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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year

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Baby Fever

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Summary: You were more than just a secretary to him.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Breeding kink, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: hiiii! I haven’t felt as inspired as I did while writing this for a while 🥹 I hope you enjoy this!

“I want a baby.”

You sputtered out the coffee you were drinking. Your eyes watered as you coughed. You tried to get your breathing under control as you looked at the imposing man sitting in front of you with his legs spread apart. He had not lifted his eyes from the laptop presented in front of him. He was idly looking at photos of paintings from the various exhibits you attended while he was busy with his group’s schedule. As an idol, and on top of that the leader of the biggest group today, Kim Namjoon was an extremely busy person. You were his secretary for almost four years now. You took care of his personal life, while his personal assistant took care of his work life. You were there for him whenever he was done with his work schedule. You were there to make sure that he remembered to call his family during their birthdays, special occasions, and holidays. In fact, you were the first person he was keen on seeing once he landed from whatever country they were in for work. His members, specially Taehyung and Seokjin, let you know time and time again how much you were appreciated. If you weren’t there, they thought that Namjoon would not be as put up as he was right now. You thought that Namjoon would survived without you.

You coughed twice before finally feeling like you could live. “What?” You asked him in confusion before wiping your self with the handkerchief he had somehow laid out in front of you.

Namjoon eventually looked up to you once he marked the photos of paintings he wanted to purchase. He leaned in, resting his elbow on his muscular thigh before plopping his chin on his hand. “I said, I want a baby.”

You squinted your eyes confusingly, “As in…baby as in baby? Or baby as in I don’t know? Not an actual baby?” You knew even as you asked what he meant. Namjoon was the most intelligent man you knew, and he did not make mistakes when conversing. In fact, he was such a great conversationalist that the media loved to invite him on their shows.

So…what brought this on?

“A child of my own, Y/N.”

That was not the first time he mentioned that. If you could remember clearly, he answered in some interviews that he really wanted to become a father. He even bought that cute little shoes when he was abroad just because. In your mind, you knew he would be the best father if how he took care of his members was any indicator. It broke your heart, though, to see him still alone after all this time.

“I mean…are you seeing someone that I’m not aware of?”

He blinked at you, absorbing what you were asking. How could he had another woman when he spent almost all his free time with you? “No.”

“T-then how?” You asked in puzzlement. You could see from his expression that he was serious about this. He rarely said anything without thinking it thoroughly in the complex and brilliant mind of his. This meant that he really did want to have a child of his own now.

You were finding it difficult to process this. Couldn’t he just want another painting?

Namjoon merely shrugged his broad shoulders and went back to looking over the paintings.

You thought that was the end of it. But no. The second time he mentioned this was at Jin’s house.

You two were about to call it a day after running errands for him. To be honest, you were quite excited for tonight. You were set to meet with your college friends, including someone you always looked up to back in your college years because of his superior intellect. He was also always so kind to you, even walked you home to your dorm every night. But you were too immense in your studies back then that you had no time for relationship. But maybe, now?

You made sure to take more time to dress yourself up this morning. You even chose to swap your usual lipstick to a different shade that made you feel more alluring and beautiful. Your fingers touched the beautiful necklace Namjoon gave you on your birthday last year. You thought that the accessory was perfect with the dress you were wearing.

This would be an easy day for you, you thought to yourself seeing that RM’s schedule was just until the afternoon. You smiled at your reflection in the mirror, satisfied with your appearance before leaving the house. When you showed up at the company to pick him up, the staff politely informed you that the leader was still in the studio with Yoongi and that he told them to ask you to go directly there. You were walking to the floor where the studio was when you passed the three maknaes: Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.

“Oh, noona!” Jungkook called you, his voice in pleasant surprised as he looked at your face. His doe eyes took in your clothes with wonder before meeting your eyes again. “Noona! You look so pretty!”

Taehyung smiled at you and nodded his head. “Our noona looks so fashionable,” he commented as he checked out your get up today. You beamed at his compliment, happy that the fashionable Taehyung approved of you.

Jimin sauntered up to you, teasingly wrapping his arm around your shoulders before smirking at you. “Our noona has a date,” he speculated on a sing-song voice that made the other two chuckled.

“So where is hyung taking you?” Jungkook pondered, excitement apparent in his eyes.

“Don’t tell me he’s taking you to another exhibit? Aish, he’s so unromantic,” Taehyung lamented, shaking his head at the thought of his hyung and the disastrous date that was about to happen.

“Hyung is not unromantic! As if you know anything about romance,” Jungkook pouted, fully on defending mode for his Namjoon hyung. His lips were in an adorable pout as he chastised Taehyung.

“I know how to be romantic!”

“As if! Until when are you going to keep giving tickets to her until she shows up in our concerts, Taehyung?”

“She will! I can still see her commenting in the weverse!”

“So? Her bias is J-hope, not you!”

You chuckled at the three’s cuteness. Taehyung was now the one pouting while Jungkook looked like he was enjoying tormenting his hyung. You watched them for a moment before finally correcting them. “He’s my boss. We’re not going on a date.”

The three maknaes looked at you with confusion in their eyes. “B-but, why are you so beautiful today?”

You squinted your eyes at Jimin, “So I’m not beautiful everyday?”

“N-No! That’s not what we meant-“Jungkook denied quickly, his eyes widening even further. He was afraid of offending his noona because then, his hyung would looked at him with disappointment in his eyes.

You chuckled lightly, deciding on ending their distress by telling them that you were going to meet with your college friends tonight, in which they were silent. They looked at each other for a moment, as though speaking in telepathy before the oldest maknae spoke up.

“So noona, is that an all-girls event, or no?”

“There’s going to be boys. Why do you ask?”

He smiled at you cheekily, but this time the smile did not reach his eyes. “Nothing.”

The three maknaes watched you walked away from them, your eyes focused on the tablet in front of you. They sighed in disappointment and worry.

“Namjoon hyung is going to lose his mind,” Taehyung finally broke the silence.

“I don’t want to be here when he finds out noona is going to meet boys from her college,” Jungkook fretted, holding both Tae’s and Jimin’s arms.

“RM is going to be unbearable after this, isn’t he?” Jimin stated with a smile that looked more like a wince. The few times you went out on a date, Namjoon was insufferable. He was quiet, too quiet that the maknaes were scared to make a mistake or speak too loudly. “Shall we move to the mountains for a while?”

Yoongi opened the door, smiling politely at you before letting you in the studio. RM’s back faced you as he hunched over the workspace. He was deciding on what beat sounded best when you arrived.

“You’re here, Y/N? I’m almost done-“ he trailed off once he turned his chair to look at you. His eyes widened before he managed to erase the awestruck expression in his face. But Yoongi saw. He smirked before sitting down on his workstation, looking up at the pair in front of him. The other one was an idiot despite being the most intelligent man in almost any room, and the other was a naive one. He hid his smile on the cup of coffee he was slowly sipping.

“No worries, Namjoon. Take your time,” you smiled at him before sitting on the sofa. He was still not able to take his eyes off of you. And you, the ever naive one, only flashed him your professional smile.

And Yoongi was enjoying it all.

“You looked different today, Y/N,” Yoongi commented tonelessly, egging the leader beside him. “Right, Namjoon?”

You blushed as you could feel your boss’ heavy eyes on you. You flashed Yoongi a shy smile before turning to look at Namjoon. It was a moment, a heartbeat too long before he replied with seriousness in his voice, “She always looks beautiful, Yoongi.”

He wanted to add that you looked like a masterpiece, one that had different meanings whenever he looked at it during different times in his life. You were timeless, his heart wanted to add. However, his brain was deaf in his heart’s true desires.

You blinked at his sudden praise on you. “T-thank you, Namjoon.”

“Is there an occasion?” Yoongi asked innocently after reading the message sent by the maknaes about you and your supposedly college reunion. He almost chuckled when he read that the three were planning on staying as far from the company as possible. But not him. This was fun to him. In his opinion, the two of you should have been in a relationship for a long time now. He thought Namjoon needed the push, or a shove if Suga was being honest. And he was willing to be the one to do that. He was a kind friend like that.

“Oh, I have a reunion with my college friends tonight,” you shared as you fixed the papers that Namjoon needed to look at. You wanted to be efficient today so Namjoon could use the rest of the day to finally relax. You thought his eyes looked a little tired lately.

“You didn’t tell me that,” Namjoon noted lightly, fixing you with his hard stare. “What time are you going to meet them? Where are you going to meet? Will you be out late?”

Yoongi was smiling as he watched RM threw question after question at you. Yet, he failed to ask one thing that should be asked.

“Are there gonna be boys, Y/N?” Yoongi asked innocently, blinking owlishly at you before leaning back and watching it all unfold.

Your affirmative answer made RM’s mood turned sour.

You were on edged as you drove the car expertly from the last location of the schedule today. Even at his age, people around Namjoon still adamantly refused to let him drive. The members thought that he would be a danger to people around him, and to himself as well. Namjoon was uncharacteristically silent as you drove. He was either staring at you or outside. Ever since you picked him up from the company, you could feel that something was off. You just could not pinpoint at it. On the other hand, Namjoon was contemplating…or more appropriately scheming as to how he could keep you with him today.

“Let’s go to Jin’s,” he finally broke the silence, flashing you his normal, dimpled smile.

“What?” This was not in the schedule today. You purposely scheduled light meetings today so that he could go home and you would have more than an ample time to drive to the reunion.

“It’s still early. I promise we’re only going to be an hour.”

Lie.

“Ahhhh actual people!” Jin greeted when he opened the door and saw you and Namjoon. He was carrying the box of baby books he insisted would be helpful to the brain development of Jin’s son.

“Hyung, your son is an actual person,” Namjoon said in a light tone as he took in Jin’s state. Despite the bags under his eyes, he was still so handsome that fans would still call him the worldwide handsome. He looked tired, but his eyes held so much happiness that RM could not helped but be happy for his hyung. At the same time, he wanted, no, he craved the domesticity that Jin was now experiencing.

The men were talking and laughing about work as Jin’s wife lead you to her son. You cooed at the child and thought that he would break a lot of hearts in the future. He was a carbon copy of Jin. He was laughing at you when you made funny faces at him, the melodious laughter reached the men’s ears.

“He likes you,” Jin commented, fondly watching his handsome son babbled and laughed. “Do you want to hold him?” His lovely wife asked.

“Really? Can I?” You asked in wonder. She smiled at you before gently laying the happy child safely in your arms.

Your heart melted as you held Jin’s little bundle of joy. The little weight you were holding was someone else’s whole world. He was barely six months old and yet he had so much personality like his father.

“You’re so beautiful, little one,” you whispered to the baby looking up at you as if he understood every word you said.

Namjoon could not even begin to decipher what it was he was feeling when he saw you holding the little Jin in your arms. He just felt this warm feeling in his heart, as if the image of you holding a baby in your arms was from a dream come true. The image was forever imprinted in his mind, he was sure. Something about you felt right. Something about you felt like the missing piece in his life. You had always been there for him. He was not ignorant to think that he could survive without you in his hectic life.

He thought that you were meant to stay in his life.

You were so focused that you almost missed the heat from Namjoon’s body when he leaned in and looked at the baby from your shoulder. You could feel his breath this close that it made you heart beat louder. Was it from shocked? Was it from shyness? Or was it from something else that you had spent years denying?

“So precious,” Namjoon whispered softly. You jumped from the deepness of his voice. You shivered from the body contact you were not used to. You cleared your throat before turning to him.

“Do you wanna hold him?”

And once he had the tiny human in his muscular arms, Namjoon smiled tenderly at Jin’s son. He brushed the sparse of hair he had on his head gently.

For the second time, he said, “I want a baby of my own.”

You were surprised that he once again brought it up. This time it was not only to you but to his hyung. Jin blinked as if he was startled by RM’s admission. He looked at you before looking at his friend.

“I’m sure you’ll be a great father, Namjoon,” Jin said in all seriousness. He knew he would. He was sure of it.

“When will you start making a baby of your own, Namjoon?” His wife asked him teasingly, leaning against Jin as they looked at the man observingly.

RM glanced at you, “Soon.”

You were already an hour too late to be considered fashionably late that RM insisted that he’d have his driver dropped you off to your reunion. You wanted to say no, yet you knew it would be impossible to resist Namjoon whenever he was in that mood. He always knew how to get his way, you thought. His intelligent mind knew just what to do, just what to say in order to get what he wanted.

And that night, he did.

Your college friends looked at you happily when you stepped out of the car. They walked closer to you, welcoming you to the party. And there you saw him, the man you hadn’t been able to forget. He was still as handsome as ever. You couldn’t help but smile when he was approaching when you felt a presence behind you.

“Hi. I just dropped off Y/N. I’m sorry she’s late,” RM greeted the group charmingly before nonchalantly placing his large hand on your waist. You jumped from the contact. He never did that. What would your friends think? Your head was in overdrive that you didn’t notice your friends fawning over the Kim Namjoon. He was treating them kindly, allowing them to take pictures with him before he turned to you.

“Enjoy your night, Y/N,” he murmured before placing a kiss on your cheek.

Well, there went your chance with your college crush.

You didn’t know what to make of his actions that when you went to his house the following week for information pertaining to the property he was looking at, you were on edged. You didn’t have to knock because he told you before to just enter his penthouse. You were given access to his home. You took a deep breath before walking inside his house, not knowing what to anticipate with him, with his touch…and that kiss that should not have happened.

“Oh, Y/N! You’re here! Come sit!” Namjoon’s mom called from his dining table, smiling pleasantly at you that you froze. You didn’t expect her here but at least there was a buffer between the two of you now, right?

“It’s been so long! You’re so thin! Is my son too hard on you?” She asked as she pulled you to sit beside her, in front of RM who only looked intently at you. You couldn’t read his expression. He was wearing a simple black shirt that fit a little too snugly on his chest. You hated how you were noticing yet again his physical qualities like you did when you were merely starting. His mom was still reprimanding his son as she put plate in front of you despite you offering to help. She merely shrugged you off, happy that you were there to take care of her son. Who knew what would happen to him if you weren’t here, she thought. RM was silently eating, enjoying the way his mom was mothering you when she turned her attention to him once again.

“When will you give me a grandchild? With the way you are working, you have no time for family! All my friends and neighbors have at least one grandchild. Son, just give me one, okay? Just one,” She pleaded as she placed more food on his plate.

“Okay, omma,” Namjoon consented. He was serious, yet his mother groaned as if he was just placating her.

“You,” she turned to you, placing more food on your plate as well. “Don’t be like my son. Go make your own babies! I’ll just borrow your child every once in a while, okay?” She told you humorously as she laughed and told you that you needed to eat more.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, the man’s face darkened with the mere thought of you carrying someone else’s child. He hated the thought of you not being his. He had the whole weekend to think intensely, and all the answers pointed to you.

You didn’t have time to discuss with him what had transpired. The following weeks, he was busy with work, yet this time he had always quietly ordered that you’d be with him. Before, you only had to meet with him thrice a week. But now, you were with him almost everyday. You were working in his office when Hoseok and Yoongi entered the room.

“Oh! Y/N, you’re here!” Hoseok exclaimed before walking to you with the brightest smile you had ever seen. Yoongi only smiled at you in acknowledgement before approaching RM and showing him his laptop. They were deep in conversation when Hoseok asked you if you knew where the list for the event was. You nodded before standing up. It was in the overhead cabinet. You reached for it in difficulty for a moment when you felt a hand on your waist, and RM’s muscular arm stretched beside you as he grabbed with such ease what you were trying to reach. He was as near as that night. “Here you go, Y/N,” he whispered…and heavens did it feel sensual in your ear. His hot breath tickled your neck. You could feel your cheeks heat up from his proximity.

You were starting to notice that RM was becoming…touchy lately. It didn’t feel disrespectful to you, it just felt like something changed with the way he was acting, with the way he was looking at you, with the way he was demanding your attention.

J-hope looked at Suga in astonishment. Were these two finally a thing?

One night, you were walking to your humble apartment with Namjoon beside you. His hands were in his pockets as he walked you to your door despite you telling him that you were fine. But you should know, he was a stubborn one. It was late, and the only light were from the hallway of your apartment. It was almost midnight when the two of you arrived at your apartment after checking out the house Namjoon wanted to buy. He asked you what you thought of it, and you said it was beautiful. The yard was spacious with swimming pool. The house itself had numerous bedrooms that you didn’t know who would stay there. In your mind, you rationalized that it must be his members if ever they wanted to stay. In Namjoon’s mind, it was for his family. He listened intently to what you had to say, and only when he saw how your face lightened up when you saw the whole house did he decide to buy it.

“Here I am, boss Namjoon,” you announced jokingly before straining to look up at your tall employer.

You blinked when he only stared at you, “Namjoon?”

“Good night, my princess,” he murmured with his deep voice.

Did he just…call you his princess?

You were too shocked to notice him leaning down. And once he did, you felt his lips kissed your forehead softly, his large hand on the back of your head. You were frozen when he stepped back.

And then he left.

Namjoon thought you needed time to process everything. He knew you were an over-thinker, that you were a flight risk. He just didn’t know you would be like this with mere kisses on your cheek and forehead. You hadn’t been picking up your phone since that day, and he had half a mind to go to your apartment. But he had to keep in mind that there were less conspicuous method to use.

You read the message from Namjoon this afternoon. Apparently, he forgot to pick up the gift he had for his father’s birthday and he was now in his hometown. He was half-pleading and half-apologizing for his clumsiness that you felt bad to just leave him on read. And so you replied that you’d bring it to him.

Your mind was blank as you drove for hours to him. Ever since that night, the feelings you had tried so hard to bury and successfully did, were resurfacing. It was unfair, you thought. You didn’t have the emotional capacity to fall for him. You knew how this would end. When you started to work for him, you thought he was everything. You looked up to him because he was so kind, so intelligent, and so masculine. He was gentle with you even when you made a mistake. He helped you find an apartment that was safe after he saw how you were living before. He paid for the deposit and for the rent during the first year despite your adamant refusal. He even paid for your grandmother’s hospital bills, the only family you had. She had lived longer than what the doctor said. She died without experiencing difficulty eventually, all thanks to RM’s connections to the best hospitals. You wanted to pay him. You even refused to accept your salary, with no success. Namjoon just merely shrugged and said he wouldn’t let anything happen to you as long as he was around. And you believed him.

And so, you did your best to take care of him day and night. Even going beyond your job description. You became his secretary, but what was more, you became his friend, an ear to vent on, even a shoulder to lay his head to rest.

One night, RM had too much to drink. He was feeling suffocated from the pressure of the world. You found him staring on an empty bottle of whiskey when you arrived in his penthouse. That night, you sat with him, listened to his worries, rubbed his back with comforting hands. You assured him that he was not the version he thought of himself. He was better. He was the best man you ever knew. You told him how much you appreciated him, and that he was doing his best.

That night, he asked you what he would do without you.

That night, you told him he’d never have to find out.

That night, he kissed you.

And come morning, he forgot about it.

But you didn’t. And that was the first time he hurt you.

Your memory trail stopped when you saw him standing in front of their house, waiting for you.

His father, just like his mother, was able to convince you to stay the night. He said you were family, and that it would be his birthday wish to spend it with the woman who managed to keep his son alive. He even joked that without you, RM would probably forget to pay his bills, to keep his fish alive, or even to eat. You laughed and said RM was becoming more mature lately and that he could survive without you. RM disagreed.

“You know what, you could do so much than be with my brother,” RM’s younger sister said teasingly as all of you were eating dinner. She stuck her tongue out to her brother who just rolled his eyes at her.

“Oh,” you chuckled shyly before looking at the tall man sitting beside you. “We’re not together!”

“Why not? I was just kidding. I think you’re perfect for him,” she admitted before smiling at the two of you. She was just voicing out what her family had been thinking for years. By now, you were a permanent fixture in their lives that if and not when the day comes that RM introduced someone else to them, they would find it hard to accept her.

You chuckled before telling her that your relationship with her brother was strictly professional.

“He’s working you too hard, isn’t he?” His father asked you as he shook his head at his innocent son. “Listen to me, life is too short to work all day. Go out and have a beautiful life! Or else you’ll find yourself old and alone one day without a family of your own.”

Once the intimate party died down, you found yourself talking with RM in the living room with alcohol in front of you. The two of you were seated on the floor side by side with the sofa behind you. His parents had called it a night after drinking with them, while his sister tapped out as well. Alcohol and the existence of other people helped to die down the awkwardness you felt. You were laughing at RM’s anecdote about the thing that happened during their dance practice. He watched you with contentment in his face. Seeing you happy was making him feel like he did something right, like he won one of those awards. He didn’t know when it started, but he just knew the desire to make you laugh would never go away. He was sure of it.

“I’m sorry about my family. They’re just used to teasing me.”

You waved him off before pouring his empty glass, before pouring yours. “It’s nothing, really. I had fun. I’m glad I came.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” he admitted, his look at you was as intense as that night that your heart started to beat harder, as if it wanted to escape the cage it was in. You blinked and decided to look away. You fanned yourself, “It’s quite warm in here, right?”

Namjoon smirked before drinking, his eyes never wavering from your face. “You’re beautiful, princess,” he commented, his voice deep as he waited for you to look at him again. He was near, so near that his thighs were touching yours. So near that whenever he moved, his muscular arm brushed against yours.

“God, you’re so drunk,” you muttered before looking up at him.

“I may be. But come morning and ask me again, and I’d still tell you you’re the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me.”

You gulped, his voice deepened even further. “You’re the most important person in my life,” he admitted with intensity in his voice, with promise in his eyes. “I know I love you.”

Your eyes widened before attempting to move away from him when you felt his massive hand on your back, preventing you from moving away from him, effectively stopping you from running away from the truth that he never tried to fight.

“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, your hand now on his chest as you tried to stop him from coming any closer. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t. Because if he did, he’d feel how hard your heart was beating just for him. Or how terrified you were of falling, only to have him forget about it again. To forget you again.

“I do. I mean it,” he whispered leaning in slowly at you. “I love you.” And then he kissed you. And you were all too powerless to stop him. He pulled away after a moment. You were breathing hard, your eyes trained on his lips before meeting his eyes. And then this time, you kissed him.

You didn’t know how, but the two of you found yourselves in his bedroom. His hand was entangled with your hair, your hands caressing his broad back as he walked you to his bed. You were drunk from the alcohol and his kisses, his heavenly kisses. He pushed you gently to the bed, and not a second was wasted before he joined you. You pulled off his shirt, your eyes in awe at his form. His muscles were definitely more defined now than when you last saw it accidentally back when you were just beginning to work for him. His chest looked definitely stronger. You were aware of this from seeing him wearing tight shirts, but this? This was something else.

You moaned lightly as Namjoon trailed kisses on your neck, peppering it with subtle marks of his own. He thought that you were his, and that your neck should be adorned with his marks. “Keep it down, princess,” he teased you as he got impatient with the endless buttons of your blouse that he resorted to ripping it off of you. He couldn’t be gentle. Not when the woman of his dreams was finally on his bed. “Or do you want me to cover your mouth?”

You didn’t know that he had it in him to be a dirty talker. You were feeling the heat when he smirked at you before you felt his lips on your chest, down to your stomach, and finally to your core. You closed your legs, shyness finally coming back to you as you sobered from his sinful kisses. He was kneeling, his legs were on either side of you as he leaned closer to you once again. “Be a good girl and open your legs, princess,” he ordered, his hand caressing your soft thigh.

His commanding voice was like a hypnotic spell that you found yourself opening your legs slowly for him. And as a reward, he made your legs shook. You were still catching your breath that you didn’t notice he placed a pillow under you, lifting your core. He kissed you once again on your lips so tenderly, so lovingly that for a moment you believed he loved you.

“You are made for me, princess,” he whispered before looking at you with darkness in his eyes, “You’re made for daddy. Say it.”

You keened when you felt his hardness slide at your core teasingly, punishingly as you waited a little too long to repeat what he wanted you to.

“Say it, princess. Don’t make daddy mad,” his hot breaths were tickling your ear as he pinched your sore nipple that you yelped.

“I-I’m made- ugh- I’m made for daddy,” you finally said as you felt his thick head slowly entered your drenched core.

“And who’s your daddy?”

“You are.”

That night, he told you repeatedly how you were his and his only. He made you promised that you would never leave him, and that you would never ignore him once again. He made you come so much that you lost track of the time. His large hand was on your mouth, preventing you from waking the whole house up as he rutted against you with so much stamina and passion. He made you so mindless that you didn’t realize he was finishing inside you each time. He made sure to not let a single drop leave your core.

The third time he didn’t have to mention about wanting a baby of his own, he just did.

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4K notes · View notes

moonchildstyles · 6 months

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oleander

oleander part one: nothing could draw y/n in the way harry could

wordcount: 11.7k+

cw: this leans into some darker themes including a description of a dead body, mentions of a parent who has passed away, some panic attack descriptions, and just in general some doom and gloom vibes! but I promise this is a love story im just doing something diferent!

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(Y/N)'s eyes followed the immaculately dressed figure floating through the shop. Barred from getting closer with the counter in front of her, she could only watch as he made his way through the small apothecary. He never glanced in her direction, though she doubted he was unaware of her eyes on him.

Dried herbs hung around his head like a dreary halo, the muted tones falling in line with the rich brown of his hair. He was tall enough that he just barely grazed the line of lavender sprigs strung up and dehydrating above his head. His coat was of a deep green velvet, tailored to show off the broad of his shoulders and strength of his arms. The matching cravat around his neck stood out starkly against the white shirt under his grey waistcoat, his skin appearing almost as pale as the starchy collar standing stiff against his throat. She wished that he would turn around for just a second; she wanted to see his eyes. Were they really as dark as she remembered, or had the town's gossip altered her memory?

As if hearing her thoughts, he quickly picked his head up and made to turn and match her gaze. She urgently dropped her eyes to her hands, pretending as if she had been preoccupied the whole time by the bundles of sage she was meant to be tying. Now her wishes turned to that of hoping he didn't catch her staring. She was sure he got enough of that as is when he bothered to venture down to their small village; he didn't need any more when he was simply trying to shop.

Forcing herself to keep her eyes down, (Y/N) tried to forget the Count's presence (was he even a Count? She wasn't sure, but that was what she had heard the women at church calling him, and no one seemed to object). She hoped he couldn't hear the sound of her heart as easily as she could, the beats pounding through her ears just from the fact she knew he was traipsing around her father's shop. Casting her gaze out the small window situated by the collection counter, she tried to see past the thick fog that had gathered that morning and done little to dissipate through the hours. If not for the fact she had lived here all her life, she would have had problems navigating through the mist. She wondered how someone like the Count fared under these conditions. He barely left that castle of his, how did he or his footmen know where they were going this time of year?

Granting herself a single peek in his direction, she saw he had gone back to shopping. He moved so silently, she wondered how he was able to cross the apothecary so vastly without a single footstep being heard. She watched as he brought bundles of herbs to his nose, taking in the heady scent. He always did this, she noticed. He always looked around until he found the strongest smelling bundles.

Truthfully, to (Y/N), all the bundles smelled the same. She couldn't notice if one sprig of lavender smelled richer than another, but maybe he knew something she didn't. It wouldn't surprise her if he spent his young years studying herbs and reading books about all of the healing plants, or whatever it was that young gentlemen did in their formative years.

Though it was a hard task to pull her eyes away from him, (Y/N) made the effort to do so. Her father really would be upset if she didn't tie up all these bundles before sundown; he barely liked her working at the apothecary as is, he didn't need any other reason to boot her from the counter.

With her eyes trained on her fingers and the clumsy bows she was tying out of twine, (Y/N) practically jumped out of her skin when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Pale hands dropped bundles of herbs on the counter, just barely in her line of sight. Her breathing stuck in her throat when she whipped her head up, finding the Count looking at her with his dark eyes.

She hadn't misremembered, it appeared. His eyes really were almost black, just barely tinted a forest green on the edges—if the forest in question was being spotted in the pitch of night, only a sliver of the moon and stars above allowing any distinction.

Her heart jumped in her throat, running faster than it had any reason to when their eyes met. She forced herself to swallow it down.

"I'm sorry, sir," she muttered, unable to pull her gaze away from his even if she instinctively wanted to look anywhere else. "Did you find all you were looking for?"

"I did, yes." His voice was a lulling rumble, rounded and heady as if the goal was to lure her nearer. If not for the table separating them, she would have fallen for it.

Offering a quiet smile, she gave him a polite nod.

No other words were exchange, as per usual for his visits. The Count wasn't much for conversation and idle chatter like the rest of the village. Instead, she could feel him watching her as she counted up his herbs and the price of each bundle.

He was buying the same ones he always did: winter savory (he switched to chamomile when out of season), tobacco, and lavender.

The buds together created a confusing scent, adding to the mishmash of what the apothecary already was. She couldn't imagine how he would put these three together in any space of that castle, the mixture too aggressive.

Though she tried her best to concentrate on only the herbs, (Y/N) was too aware of the static of his presence. She wondered what he thought when he came down to the village, what he thought when he interacted with people like her. He was always so stoic. He never gave anything away, though that didn't stop the village gossip from running wild about him.

Swallowing around her dry throat, heartbeat bubbling against her ribs, she matched his gaze. The pricing for his bounty came out on buzzing lips, "Sixteen shillings please, sir."

He didn't bat an eyelash at the price despite it being the biggest single purchase her father's apothecary would see until the next time he ventured down. Instead, he looked at her with his dark eyes and a tic in his jaw. He was unbearably handsome, made of cut edges and smooth planes, but he always looked at her as if he were angry and working to bury it down. She could never figure out why or what exactly made his nostrils flare or his jaw tight when he spoke to her, but she hoped she wasn't the only one he reacted to like this.

His hands moved quickly, pulling out a small pouch of tinkling coins before he plucked out the exact amount for her. For a moment, she could see bank notes tucked inside the pouch as well. While she wasn't surprised that someone like him would have that kind of wealth, she had never seen it before with her own eyes.

Passing off the change to her, his pale fingers grazed her open palm. Goosebumps immediately raised across her skin, his touch feeling as if he had been standing in the dawn's dew for hours, allowing the chill to cling to his skin and leach away all hope for warmth. The graze was quick, barely a heartbeat long, but she swore she could feel the lingering touch for moments after. Maybe he really did have a hard time navigating the village when the fog was this thick, having traveled in winding routes and wrong turns for so long he still hadn't been able to heat up even after spending time in the shop.

Flicking her gaze up to his on instinct, she saw he was looking at the swatches of skin exposed from her dress, eyeing the goosebumps he had plucked up on accident.

(Y/N) cleared her throat, nothing more than a reminder to herself to keep professional and not to gawk at the man. She placed the change in the small cup underneath the collection counter before reaching for his herbs of choice. A length of twine was used to tie up his product, ensuring he didn't lose anything on his way back home.

"Thank you," he muttered once she passed them back, their skin no longer grazing this time.

"Have a pleasant journey back home," she chirped, her voice decidedly pleasant against the bubbling she was feeling inside, "Stay warm."

The Count didn't give any kind of reaction to her before he was leaving the shop in a flourish. Taking advantage of the window at her disposal, she watched as he ventured out into the fog. The mist mingled around him, making him appear as if he were a ghost—one with the Earth-bound clouds. She was only vaguely aware of the way her body heat ticked up some now that he had left.

Though she could hear the sound of footsteps descending the stairs that led up to their home a floor above, (Y/N)'s head was outside the shop and away from her father. She didn't turn even when she could tell he had made it to the landing. He was used to it by now, she knew. Her head was always miles away as far as he was concerned—thinking too big for the village with daydreams that were only going to hurt her in the long run.

The air around her shifted, telling her that her father was just behind her, likely watching to see what had caught her attention this time.

"Is that Harry?" he grumbled, spitting out the name while dismissing the faux-title since they were alone.

Her father didn't much like the Count—Harry, as he bitterly spat out. (Y/N) was never sure what precisely had set off her father's distaste for the man, just knowing that he thought Harry to be something of a boogeyman against the village. He didn't even go to church, her father regularly complained. What kind of man was he if he couldn't even bother to trudge down from his palace to spend some time with God, even if it was in the presence of commoners?

(Y/N) never really minded. Though she'd never tell her father, church was boring. She couldn't blame Harry—the Count, whatever she was supposed to call him—for skipping out. Especially with the peeks at the castle she could garner if she trekked through the woods far enough. She wouldn't want to leave that place for anything.

Nonetheless, (Y/N) answered with a soft, "Yes." Her eyes were still locked on the form of him she could barely make out through the mist.

A grunt of disapproval left her father's lips. She didn't have to look at him to know that he had his arms crossed over his chest. "Are you okay?"

It was when he settled a hand on her shoulder that she snapped out of her staring.

"Yes, I'm well," she answered as placidly as possible when she turned to face him. She didn't want to show just how affected she was by the Count. Her father would do more than just grunt and disapprove if he knew just how drawn to the man as she was.

He peered through the window, his eyes surely finding the one dark figure filtering through the fog. His brows slanted into harsh slashes over his eyes. "From now on, I want you to find me when he comes in, and I will take over. I do not want him talking with you."

Her fingertips buzzed at the new instructions, matching the kickstart to her heartbeats. As much as she heard her father's concerns, and had listened in to all the of the stories and webs spun about this man, those did little to deter her interest in Harry or quell the bubbling in her chest every time she saw him step inside the apothecary.

"I can handle him, father," she countered, trying to sound as uninterested as possible while attempting to hold her ground, "We barely talk when he comes in, anyway."

The creases between his brows only deepened when he matched her gaze. "I do not want you becoming one of his victims, (Y/N)."

Her lips thinned at his words. "All of those stories are rubbish, father, you know that," she pressed, her words lighthearted despite the argument she was wagering by not immediately giving in, "Since when have we started listening to what Mary and Ethel have to say?"

He didn't break any, even when she knew she was making a valid point to him. Gossip was prohibited according to the Bible, and yet he was citing stories she had heard the worst of gossipers weave?

There was no real reason for anyone to believe that Harry had anything to do with what had been going on just outside of the village, he was just easy to pin it on seeing as no one really knew him. She doubted any of them—including Ethel and Mary—could actually believe that he was the one behind the bodies that had been found in the woods, and the disappearances that had been added to the murder count.

From what she'd heard, all signs pointed to animal attacks—wolves, or bears, or anything viscous. Though her stomach curdled at the thought, she couldn't see the Count being the one to rip out commoner's throats, to leave them crumpled in the brush with blood sinking into the earth. All of it was gossip and evil rumors that had not even a shred of truth inside.

"Still," her father stated, countering her argument, "There's something wrong with him, (Y/N)."

Wrong was very far from threatening as far as she was concerned, especially when it came to Harry. Though, this most likely wasn't the time to share that opinion. She would keep her thoughts about him to herself, her own small secret against the rest of the village.

Harry didn't scare her like he did the rest of them, but they didn't need to know that.

"Okay," she relented with a quiet nod, turning back to the collection cup so she could pass off the earnings to her father. "I will come grab you next time."

(Y/N) wasn't sure if it was the additional shillings added to the cup or her pleasant agreement that had her father's features relaxing with a small smile on his lips, but she wasn't going to object.

Besides, she wasn't going to actually follow through on her promise. Harry was her favorite customer, even if she wouldn't admit it out loud. Her father would have to try harder to steer her clear of Harry.

—————

(Y/N) struggled with the strap of her shopping baskets, one hanging from her shoulder over her back with another dangling from her hand. They were stocked full and heavy, filled with everything her father requested that morning before she was sent off. She hadn't even realized how late she was running with her errands, how many items she had picked up and how heavy her bags were becoming until the sun had already gone down and her shoulder ached with the amount she had packed in.

With the season's change, the sky was almost pitch by the time she made it to the edge of the village, the air chilled and crisp. Her father was going to have her head for making it back so late, but what could he have expected, really? He was the one that wrote the list, knowing half of the items were only available in the neighboring village.

She hummed as she followed the path, giving herself some company and filling the silence. She hated being out this late—the dark scared her more than it probably should at her age.

Her steps slowed as the bag hanging from her shoulder once again began to shift. No matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't stay put. She attempted to adjust the strap once more as she cautiously stepped over the path.

With her attention placed elsewhere, she didn't notice the man in her way until she bumped directly into him.

Her heart started in her chest, rattling against her ribs. She jumped back, whipping her head up with wide eyes. Before her stood the familiar dark-haired figure she had seen just a week prior, pursuing through the apothecary.

Harry's cut features were pinched with a furrowed brow, his dark eyes trained on her. He was pale like a ghost compared to his dark clothing that blended in with the rest of the night. He reached out to steady her, baskets and all, when she tottered on the low heel of her boot.

His touch singed her like snowflakes as he grasped at her bare arms.

"H-Harry," she gasped, his name falling from her lips before she had a chance to collect her bearings. Her skin warmed when her brain caught up with herself; she'd never called him by his name before—or called to him at all now that she thought about it. "I am so s-sorry."

What exactly she was apologizing for—using his name so brashly or running right into him—she wasn't sure, but she could cover for both, she figured.

"It is alright," he murmured to her, his hands lingering on her biceps, "I didn't mean to frighten you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thank you," she asserted, "I wasn't looking where I was going. It has been a long day."

Tipping his head, as if her word wasn't enough, Harry looked her over before dropping his hands from her arms and taking a calculated step back.

"I'm sure it was," he said to her, his voice still a low whisper, "Is what why you are out so late?"

(Y/N) eased into the conversation, despite knowing it was more than a little inappropriate to be alone with a man this late into the evening. She was flattered the Count wanted to speak to her at all, honestly. He always seemed so eager to flee from the apothecary and the rest of the village during his visits. In her dreamland, she liked to think that he actually enjoyed seeing her, this run-in being his opportunity to speak to her without all of the prying eyes trained on him.

"Yes," she sighed, shifting the small basket on her aching wrist to the other, "I had to do the shopping today, and my father always requests things he knows I have to search all over for, so I've been busy since I woke up."

Harry hummed at her words, his dark eyes seemingly lighting up with amusement at her trivial complaint. He eyed the heavy bags she was carrying before he met her eyes once more. "Would it be alright if I accompany you back home? It's too dark for a lady like yourself to be walking alone."

Biting back a smile, (Y/N) felt her blood warm under her skin. Someone of his status would know a lady when he looked at one, and (Y/N) definitely wasn't. He had to be teasing her.

"I'm no lady," she explained, though she didn't sound that convincing under her smile, "But, I think I would really enjoy some company. Thank you."

(Y/N) was well aware of what it would look like to be walked home by Harry at this time of night, alone on the path and unchaperoned. It would have been bad enough with any man, but seeing as this was the Count, she could only imagine the kinds of rumors Mary and Ethel would spin. The fluttering in her heart urged her to ignore those worries, though; Harry most likely knew better about societal standards than she, given their stations, and he had enough rumors swirling about him that he wouldn't want to add to if he could help it. If he wasn't worried, then she wouldn't either.

"Lead the way," he said, smiling at her with dazzlingly perfect teeth.

"Its not too far," she started, peering down the path to see the late night tavern still boiling with people and the small homes that decorated the mouth to the village. "It's just down that way," she told him, nodding her head in the direction they were to take.

Before she went too far, she adjusted her grocery-laden baskets once more, barely holding back a wince at the weight on her shoulder.

Harry still seemingly noticed even if she had tried to be discreet. He didn't immediately follow her steps back home. "Let me carry those for you. They can't be too comfortable after such a long day."

While she was sure it was good form to decline his offer, feign strength she didn't have and continue on without complaint, she wasn't going to pass up on the offer to relieve the stress on her shoulder.

"I would really appreciate that, actually," she sighed, shifting the basket off her shoulder in a haste, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me," he answered simply, a pleasant lightness to his features as he took the strap from her hands. He slung it over his own shoulder with an ease (Y/N) could only dream to have. He didn't stop there, taking the smaller one from her wrist as well.

She was free to roll her joints and feel circulation return to all limbs, more than gracious for her impromptu partner for the night.

"You said it was this way, yes?" he prompted, starting down the path towards the edge of town where both the apothecary was as well as the flat above it where she and her father resided.

"That way," (Y/N) affirmed with a smile, falling into step beside him as they started off through town.

A careful silence fell between them, full of opportunities that twinkled like stars. This was her chance to know him, bask in his presence, learn who she had only gazed at from afar. Though every time she looked at him from the corner of her eye, she felt her throat dry. He was even more gorgeous under moonlight.

"You know," he started first, unbraiding the silence, "I don't think I've ever seen you come out from behind that counter. I was starting to think you never left; like you were some kind of spirit attached with manning an apothecary at all hours."

A bubbling peal of laughter felt from (Y/N)'s lips, her hands a fumbling bundle at her waist. "It feels that way, sometimes," she smiled, "But I promise I do have more hobbies than only drying herbs and counting coin."

"And what might those be?" the Count pressed, looking down at her. In the low light, (Y/N) expected his eyes to look impossibly dark, more like coal than even in the daylight, but she found that ring of green to show more prominently now under the moon.

"Um," she floundered, tearing her eyes away from his when she felt goosebumps raise over her skin and her heart bounce against her lungs, "I-I like to tend to our garden—for the shop."

"I didn't know grow everything yourself. That must keep you rather busy."

(Y/N) shrugged, "It can, depending on the season. But, I've figured it out through the years, and made it easier on me."

"You grow everything for your shop, then?" Coming up to a fork in the path, Harry paused, waiting for (Y/N) to take the first step in the right direction before he followed.

"Most of it," she mused, an immediate list of their inventory coming to mind, "There's still a few things that I have to scavenge for, but I've become rather good at that as well."

"I don't doubt that," Harry smiled, the curl audible in his voice, "Was it your idea then to start the shop? Fill it with all the things you could grow?"

"Oh, no," she declined, a furrow appearing in her brow, "My father and mother started the apothecary when my sister and I were still babies."

"I don't think I've met your sister or mother," Harry shared, casting his gaze towards her once more, refractions of green shimmering in his irises.

While (Y/N) dreaded the subject, she couldn't exactly complain since she had been the one to bring them both up. Truthfully, it wasn't hard to talk about any more, it was harder to field the reactions of those around her when she shared the story. It was never easy to quell retroactive grief.

"My sister married and moved to the country almost two years ago," she started easy, keeping her gaze forward, "My mother passed away when I was a child."

When the Count didn't immediately answer, (Y/N) peeked up to find him looking at her differently than before. She didn't find pity swimming through his eyes, only sympathy. He looked at her like he knew her pain.

"It is a hard thing, losing family," he murmured, shifting his gaze towards the sky, "But, it can only grow easier as time goes on."

Tracing her eyes over his profile, through the immaculate stone-like chisel of his features and unblemished skin, she swore she could spot the same fine lines by his eyes and slight crease between his brows that she and her sister had sustained since their mother passed.

She swallowed, hoping her next line of questioning didn't breach too far. "Have you lost family before?"

"I have," he smiled, though it didn't completely reach those fine lines by his eyes, "It was a long time ago. It's funny how after a while, you can forget what it was like before."

Though (Y/N) loved her mother dearly and cherished those memories she had with her, she had been without her for longer than she had been with her. She knew what Harry was talking about, exactly. Missing her mother was just a part of her now, and it wasn't anything she tired to push away or get over. She grew around the grief and held onto her mother in that space.

"Exactly," she agreed, relieved to not be trying to quell someone else's grief and pity for her, "I've remembered her for longer than I actually knew her, but it does not upset me any more."

"Good," Harry cemented, "She wouldn't want you to be bothered by her memory."

Looking ahead, the town square was approaching with the town's tavern still full despite the late hour. That was the one place that could be bustling at any time of night, any day of the week. (Y/N) hoped no one would peer through the windows and catch her late night stroll.

"I apologize for speaking so morbidly," (Y/N) laughed, though she didn't exactly feel guilty to be learning that much more about Harry, "Since you know more about me, I would like to know more about you."

"I'm sure we could arrange that," he smiled that dazzling smile, "What would you like to know?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you out in the village before, except for when you do your shopping," (Y/N) mused, hoping to learn a little bit more about what he did up in that castle of his.

She watched as he shrugged, still completely unbothered by the weight of her shopping. "I come out every once in a while," he prattled, "But I suppose we never have run into each other until now. What a shame."

Her blood warmed at his final comment. He really must be teasing her, trying to pull those shy reactions from her.

Before she had a chance to say much in response, the rowdy tavern only a few meters ahead burst open with sloppy patrons spilling onto the street. The men were undoubtedly drunk as was apparent in the slurring of their shouts and the stumbling of their feet. Everything was too loud for the quiet of the night, including the calls coming from inside the bar, urging the few that had escaped to come back inside. The night couldn't already be over, it was still early, those beckoning voices said.

Maybe it was the dark of the night, the fact she had never been around anyone drunk enough to slur their words, or the stark sound of it all, but (Y/N) startled at the disturbance. She almost jumped out of her skin, her feet stumbling with her heels digging into the crumbling sidewalk. She could hear a gasp falling from her throat though she couldn't remember making the noise herself.

Before she had time to recover, Harry had swiftly tugged her to his other side. She was now covered by his body with her other side sandwiched with the walls of the other buildings lining the street. From where the drunken men stood, she doubted they would be able to accurately spot her given her new cover.

"Thank you," she murmured, her thrumming heart beginning to slow finally.

When he didn't respond, she looked up to find him shooting daggers towards the men that were being pulled back into the tavern. His sharp jaw was clenched shut with his eyes narrowed in their direction.

"Harry?" she sounded, breaking him from whatever he had running through his head.

He whipped his head to face her once more, blinking with a flutter of curling lashes.

"Yes, sorry," he finally responded, "My apologies, I would have pulled you away sooner had I seen them coming."

"It's alright," she tried to soothe, giving him a small smile, "The shop is just up there, I think I can survive a little while longer."

He cast his gaze over her form for just a beat longer, his shoulder relaxing some by the time he met her eyes again. "I'll make sure of it," Harry teased, cracking a smile at her.

They shared those final paces in silence, (Y/N) feeling rather proud of herself and a bit giddy to have had him at her side for this long, his attention on her. By the time the dark apothecary topped with the small flat came into view, she almost wished they would round the block once more. She still had more she wanted to ask him.

"It has been a pleasure, Ms. (Y/N)," he bowed to her, carefully pulling her shopping baskets from his shoulder and wrist, "I hope I will see you again soon—maybe we'll run into each other like this more often."

"Maybe," she smiled, taking the bags from him, "Thank you for escorting me home, and helping with my baskets."

"It's my pleasure," he repeated once more, the green in his eyes flashing with amusement, "Have a good night."

Inching towards the door, (Y/N) gave him a nod. "Good night, Harry."

A soft lipped smile on his marble-perfect face was the last thing (Y/N) saw before she was stepping inside the apothecary. The bell above the door tinkled, alerting her father who would no doubt still be awake upstairs.

"(Y/N)? Is that you?" he called down the stairs, the creak of his favorite rocking chair sounding as he stood.

"Yes, sorry!" she answered, bracing herself to trek up the steep stairs to the flat with her body weighed down with all of the groceries. "I didn't mean to take so long."

"I don't like you staying out so late after the sun goes down," her father chided her, pulling the bags from her form and taking them towards the tiny kitchen, "There's no telling what could be waiting in the dark."

(Y/N) kept her mouth shut as her father went off on his complaints. She didn't mention Harry once.

—————

Dressed in her favorite nightgown with her hair braided back with the same twine she tied her herbs with, (Y/N) peered once more out her window, finding the same black cat that had been out there since she readied for bed still sitting in the garden.

Her moon-yellow eyes were bright in the dark as she stalked and played with the bugs that threatened the state of (Y/N)'s herb garden. She had never seen the cat before, but she was tempted to convince her father to let her bring the creature inside. She would be a good pet, (Y/N) decided.

Laying back against her pillows, only dim candle light allowing her to see her ceiling, (Y/N) cast her mind back to the hours earlier. Her day had been terribly uneventful, but had ended in heart-fluttering territory.

Though she realized, thinking back to the conversation she had indulged in on her walk home, she never caught why Harry was out so late by himself, anyway.

—————

Grey clouds crowded the sky as (Y/N) carefully stepped over the vining brush at her feet. The hem of her dress snagged once or twice on some of the thorny bushes and the rough bark covering unearthed roots. Acres of towering trees formed a canopy above her head, barely letting any of the limited light through. She had her eyes on the ground as she tried to scope out those few herbs she wasn't able to cultivate at the home garden. The basket at her hip was already teeming with a good handful of different bundles, but she still needed to find some winter savory.

More than once, her mind wandered as she trekked through the trees. It had been a week since she had last seen Harry, and yet he was still the one thing that floated through her mind whenever she drifted to her daydreams. She could still see the line of his profile, backlit by the cloudy moonlight. In her dreams, she had the courage to reach out and trace over the line, grazing the bridge of his nose and the dip of his cupid's bow. He grew more and more gorgeous every time she revisited her memories.

She was already known to have her head in the clouds, dreams too big for the village to contain, but she definitely floated upwards more and more since seeing Harry.

A small smile worked its way onto her lips the longer she wafted through her reverie. (Y/N) liked to think that if she had acted on that impulse—dragging her fingertip along the planes of his features—that he would have cracked a smile, showing off the thumbed dimples and dazzling teeth. Maybe, he would have even looked at her, wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her to his chest before dipping her in the middle of the street. He could kiss her then, the moment romantic and brazen and—

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks the second she saw the dead body on the forest floor.

If not for the pallor of her skin, she could have assumed this woman had fallen asleep peacefully among the brush. She looked to be around (Y/N)'s age, unbound hair spilling around her head. Her eyes were closed with her features set in a serene scene and arms crossed over her chest. Her palms were pressed flat over her collarbones, the same way those in coffins were laid to rest six feet under. The pose reminded her of her mother.

Though all of that tranquility went to hell when she saw her throat.

While the woman had been laid to rest with utmost respect, that didn't take away from the fact her throat was ripped open. (Y/N) swore her own esophagus grew sore and tight while looking at the women. The skin had been slashed out of the way by something sharp and angry, revealing frayed sinew and torn muscle. The raw red hue stood out starkly against the snowy pallor her skin had taken on. Something had attacked her, taking out her throat and leaving her to die right where she lay.

The most unsettling part, (Y/N) realized the longer she stood there, was that there was no blood. Where she expected to see a crimson crust forming around the wood or a puddle haloing the woman's form, there was nothing. Her wound didn't even look that gruesome, truly. It was clinically clean instead, as if a healer had already cared for her and planned on bandaging the tear before letting her head home. She had been bled completely dry, leaving her with rubbery skin, thin veins, and a clean white dress.

She had heard about these incidences—people going missing only to turn up later dead—but she never pictured it was like this. To her, everything sounded as if wanderers were attacked in the woods are lost through the elements. Never once through her forages in the area had she ever met the face of someone whose life was taken so decidedly.

(Y/N) wanted to scream, she wanted to cry and panic and run. But, she just stood there.

Time was stuck as she saw the woman with long red hair, unblemished skin, and a fine gown.

All at once, the severity of the situation flooded back to her.

Her sore throat was split open with a loud scream, blood-curdling and eye-watering. She dropped her basket to the floor, returning the herbs to where she had plucked them, before she sprinted towards home. Her dress caught on the thorns of the brush, her feet stumbling over the unearthed roots. None of the obstacles slowed her. She tugged her dress free with every pump of her legs, keeping herself steady with nothing other than the will of adrenaline and fear pushing he along.

She didn't realize she had been crying until she saw the edge of the village in sight, her cheeks burning with her hands going numb. A man she recognized as one of her father's friends was out in his garden, cultivating the family vegetables when he looked up to see her, concern striking his features.

"(Y/N)," the man called out, his voice echoing over the space.

Stumbling in her tracks, she fought to keep herself steady. Instinctively, she wanted to keep running until she made it back to her bedroom with her safety intact. She knew she couldn't do that, though. She had to tell someone about the woman, find her family and lay her to rest properly.

Find who had hurt her.

"Th-There—She's—Dead," (Y/N) panted, floundering around her jumbled mind. She couldn't find a single coherent thought in her head.

The man's thick brows only furrowed as he cautiously approached her. "Dead?" he pressed, making himself appear smaller as if she were the creature to be cowering from for survival.

Hearing someone else say the word had another round of sobs wracking through her body. "Sh—The girl—She's dead. In the woods, there's been another."

Horror took the man's features. Blood drained from his face, leaving him shades paler than just moments before.

"Another?" he asked, "Like the others?"

"I-I think so," she stuttered, moments away from crumbling to the ground. She couldn't be sure if the state this young woman had been in was what the rest of the others had gone through. She hope it wasn't.

A curse was uttered under his breath before he shouted towards his home. He called for his wife, a woman (Y/N) vaguely knew from church. It only took a moment for a woman to stick her head out of the doorway, her features screwing up in worry the second she saw (Y/N)'s blubbering form.

She was only vaguely aware of the man explaining to his wife what (Y/N) had shared, and that he was going to get the others together to recover the body and care for her. His wife needed to take care of her, inform her father of what (Y/N) had seen today.

Time moved impossibly slow while racing through each second simultaneously. At some point, she checked out, shock setting in as she came to terms with everything she had seen. By the time she returned, she had been deposited on the stoop of the church, a knitted blanket around her shoulders. Shivers wracked down her spine though she could feel herself breaking into a thin sweat. Many of the women of the village had swarmed around her, including Mary and Ethel. Feet away, her father was speaking with the vicar of the church.

"Drink this, dear," Mary said, shoving a warm mug of something in her hands.

(Y/N) made no move to follow her given directly, loosely gripping the cup in her palms. Her gaze was barely focused, tears still running down her cheeks, as she absently stared at the cobblestone under her boots.

Every time she blinked, she saw the bloodless wound on the woman. Her thin, lavender eyelids masking unseeing eyes. Her thin fingers, the pale skin barely covering the bones underneath. The sections of her neck that were frayed and ripped, matching that of the hem of her dress.

Murmurs arose once more around her. (Y/N) had no doubt there was already speculation about who could have done this—who would have killed someone in such a way that an onlooker end up as traumatized as the dead. A part of her brain pinged, knowing that Mary and Ethel would no doubt be peering accusingly at the castle in the distance, their accusations known without a single word leaving their lips.

Now more than ever, having seen a body, (Y/N) had no doubt that Harry had nothing to do with these disappearances.

No human could do what she saw in the woods.

—————

"Let me grab my coat, and John and I will escort you back home."

(Y/N) did her best to school her features, regulate her reaction before reaching a gentle hand on Margret's shoulder to keep her from ascending the stairs.

"Oh, no," (Y/N) declined, canting her head with a soft smile, "You've already been too kind tonight. I can make it on my own—home's barely a block away."

Margret chewed her lip between her teeth, looking over her shoulder to where her parents were standing by the hearth. So many eyes were on them and their interaction.

"Really, Marg," (Y/N) tried again, "My father and I appreciate everyone's kindness enough, I would hate to put you out even more and make you go out in a storm like this."

"But," Margret started, "I don't want to leave you alone. The storm is bad enough without everything that... happened."

Almost two weeks had passed since (Y/N)'s run-in in the woods, and yet the village's paranoia was at an all-time high. Her father had been at her side near constant since he had finished speaking with the vicar, promising her that he wouldn't let that happen again—finding something so gruesome, as well as a silent promise that she wouldn't become the gruesome sight. He had been shaken by her reaction, telling the vicar that he had never seen her so vulnerable, on the edge of hysterics.

Any herb they couldn't grow in the garden would now be out of stock until he himself could forage through the woods, but she would never be tasked with going by herself. Otherwise, he was going to be at her side as often as he could be, ensuring she was never alone. If he couldn't be there, then he had pooled together a batch of close family friends who would be willing to stand in for him. She would never be by herself, never vulnerable to another fright.

(Y/N) was losing her mind.

Everyone walked on eggshells around her, having seen her breakdown in real time. They heeded her father's request as if law, never allowing her even a second of alone time if not in the safety of her bedroom. Even her time in the garden had been reduced to a field trip for every young woman who was tasked to be at her side, chattering about the most lighthearted of subjects.

While in a few ways, (Y/N) couldn't blame her father, she selfishly didn't really care. She needed her freedom, even if that freedom came in the form of a short walk to her home by herself.

"I promise I will be alright," (Y/N) tried to soothe her friend, offering her beaming smile to Margret's parents and brother as well. "Thank you all for dinner, please don't let me add to the burden by making you all escort me home in a storm. I would never forgive myself if any of you fell ill."

It was Margret's mother that seemed to waver from (Y/N)'s reasoning. She most likely didn't want her children out in the rain, either. (Y/N) wasn't the only one in the village that needed to be protected from whatever lived in the woods.

Peering over her shoulder, Margret searched for her parents blessing that came in the form of a small dip of her father's chin.

"I will come visit you in the morning, then," Margret cemented, "to make sure you're alright."

"I look forward to it," (Y/N) chirped, bringing her friend in for a small hug before inching towards the front door. She gave her beaming smile to the rest of the family. "Thank you again," she said, "Dinner was wonderful. I'll have to steal the recipe sometime, Mrs. Wayfield."

"I'll send it with Margret in the morning, dear," she said, her smile tight, "Get home safe. Don't linger longer than you have to."

"Absolutely," (Y/N) promised, pulling the hood of her purple cloak over her head.

Final goodbyes were shared before (Y/N) stepped outside, the raging storm that had been rattling the roof of the home now whipping against her form.

As much as the wind stung her eyes and the rain chilled her skin, she reveled in the experience. She was alone, finally.

Despite what Mrs. Wayfield said, she definitely lingered longer than she needed to, allowing the rain to soak her cloak and begin to seep through her dress. She had never been one to steep in the rain or bask in storms, but that was going to be changing tonight.

The direct walk home was decidedly short, taking less than a block's worth of steps to take her there, but she was going to make it as long as possible. She might even take the scenic route, stepping through the center of town for no reason at all other than she wanted to.

Heavy droplets of rain weighed down her cloak the longer she took outside, the wind whipping the hem around her in waves. Taking her time, she ambled over the cobblestones of the town square, ignoring the drops that slipped over her warm cheeks.

Suddenly, the storm changed once she reached the center of town.

Before, it had been nothing but rain and wind, the kind of storm that would put her to sleep in a matter of minutes. Something shifted in a matter of moments, taking the wind and amping it up into swirling chills. A crack of lightning lit up the sky, making shadowy ghosts of all the buildings and turning the trees into bony hands reaching towards the heavens. Thunder rattled the Earth a moment later. The large drops of rain quickly became a heavy downpour, slicking down her form until her clothing was stuck to her body and her eyes were struggling to blink through the droplets. Every time she peeked through slitted eyes, the sheets slammed down thick enough she could barely see through it.

The scenic route no longer seemed fun now that she was out here. She should have just gone home like she promised.

(Y/N) had to step carefully over the cobblestones, not trusting the grip of her boots over the cracks. She wished she could sprint though the barrage, but she would no doubt lose her footing and smash her face into the rocky ground if she did.

Instead, she kept her head down and tried to navigate back home through the rain, lacking sight. She kept her pace as steady as possible, giving all her focus to the task of making it home, though she was vaguely aware of a familiar panic growing in her chest.

As much as she had wanted to be alone, take time by herself and live in the village without her father's word being law, she still saw the gruesome body every time she closed her eyes. (Y/N) had nightmares of that moment she had come across the young woman, though this time she blinked her eyes open when (Y/N) grew close enough before snatching at her foot. A shaky breath expanded (Y/N)'s lungs at the childish fear that something could even be following behind her at the moment. She would have no idea if there was; every sound was drowned out by the pouring rain, her sight impaired by the water running over her eyes and the heavy sheets acting like a fog over the village.

Unable to resist the urge, (Y/N) whipped her head around, trying to catch the monster in the act of following her. Unsurprisingly, no one was there.

She was alone, just as she had wished.

Spinning around, the village was completely vacant. No one knew she was out here. No one would even know if she had been snatched like that young woman. Not until she was found again.

That flare of panic in her chest rose again, clogging her throat and thickening her head.

She needed to get out of here. Being alone wasn't worth this. She should have just taken up Margret and John on their offer and gone straight to her room. She could have found her alone time on another day.

Picking the first direction in front of her, (Y/N) stormed through. This had to take her home, right? She had lived in this flat almost all of her life, she wouldn't forget where it was.

Until, of course, (Y/N) noticed she had taken the complete wrong direction, heading towards the opposite end of the village. A strike of lightning lit up the grey sky, showing off the vague shadow of the towering castle in the distance.

The Count's home. She had to turn around; she was no where close to the apothecary.

This time, when (Y/N) spun around, trying to find a direction to head through her woolen throat and mounting panic, she couldn't decide. What if she went the wrong way again? What if she ended up back in the town center?

What if she died out here?

The morbid turn of her thoughts took her breath away.

She was stunned in place, unable to make any move in any direction.

Suddenly, a hand settled on her shoulder, stilling her shaking form.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing out here?"

(Y/N) stumbled, turning around to face to familiar voice speaking right behind her.

There, backlit by another round of lightning and thunder, was Harry.

His hair was almost black under the rain, near soaked despite having barely been out in the elements for longer than a few moments. His velvet jacket grew darker with every drop absorbed into the thick fabric. He pale skin was a beacon in the gloom.

"H-Harry?"

"You can't stay out here, (Y/N). You're going to fall ill, or worse," he told her, concern dripping from his tone the same way the rain clumped through the length of her lashes.

When she gave her body permission to do so, she wasn't sure, but in a heartbeat she was clinging to his form. He was her safety in the middle of his storm, keeping her from falling victim to the most morbid of her thoughts. It was beyond improper, but she didn't care as she dug her fingers into his waistcoat. He couldn't leave her here.

"I-I was trying to go home," she whined, her voice fragile under the weight of everything. "I think I'm l-lost."

She felt pathetic to utter something so silly given she knew this town like the back of her hand, but it was a truth.

Harry lingered in front of her for a moment, seemingly assessing her before he sprung into action.

"That's alright," he murmured, speaking as if she were an injured animal, "Let me take you home. I think I remember the way. Is that okay? I have my carriage over there."

He pointed behind himself, where another slice of lightning revealed a black, boxy carriage led by regal white horses. She could see the vague form of someone sitting in the coach box.

When she didn't immediately answer, he wrapped a tentative arm around her form. "Let me get you home, (Y/N)."

She gave an absent nod, willing to let him take her anywhere—anything was better than this, she decided. He bundled her against him as he took her to the side of the carriage, sacrificing an arm holding her middle to open the door. He helped heave her inside, getting her in as quickly as possible.

"Thank you," she peeped when she settled on the bench seat. She kept her eyes on him as he waited a moment, relaying to the driver the new destination.

Her body shook with unstoppable tremors as Harry climbed in after her, her soaked clothing ruining the red velvet under her. She would have to apologize to him later.

It was here, in the dry of his carriage, that (Y/N) realized she was sobbing with rivers of hot tears pouring down her cheeks. It wasn't just the chill of the rain that had her feeling as if she couldn't breathe, she realized. In the safety of the cover, wracking sobs kept her from properly filling her lungs, her inhales way too short to be safe.

The carriage spun around her despite the way (Y/N) tried to focus on her hands on her lap. This wasn't good, she knew.

"(Y/N)," she heard, the voice firm and commanding, "Look at me, darling."

Absently, she pulled her head up to face Harry.

He was inches away from her. (Y/N) could make out the the shattered shards of green around his black pupils. The strong line of his nose and pillow lips were right there.

Harry was dazzling. Breathtaking.

Unfortunately, breathtaking was the last thing she needed right then.

Before she knew any better, (Y/N)'s lashes fluttered as her eyes fell closed on their own accord, her breathing stunted in her lungs. The last thing she was aware of was Harry's panicked call of her name before she spilled over the velvet seat as she lost consciousness.

—————

When (Y/N) finally cracked her eyes open, her limbs felt impossibly heavy as if she had rocks tied to each end as she sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Her bleary sight took it's time clearing, allowing heartbeats to pass before the blurry streaks around her came into focus.

She was in an immaculate bedroom, she realized. Her body was cushioned by luxurious velvet, dyed a deep crimson. The mattress underneath was plush and inviting, urging her to sink deeper and deeper into the dreamy bedding and warmth it offered. A length of fur ran across the end of the bed, tickling her bare ankles as she stretched.

Sitting up where she had been nestled atop the bed, more and more of her head came to her. The bed was even more opulent that she thought. Four posters shot up from around the frame, holding curtains made of delicate black lace. Her hands ached just looking at it, thinking about how long it would take to make something so beautiful, even with the help of one of those sewing machines. More furs and velvet decorated the large space; everything honing in on the darker spectrum of colors. Here and there, pops of gold thread appeared like minute rays of sunlight. At the bedside was a bouquet of cut flowers, all in rich violet hues and smelling sweet enough to draw her in like a butterfly. And she almost did, sticking her nose into the tall stalk of trumpet shaped flowers until she realized what kind they were and jerked back.

Foxglove, she recognized them to be. Poisonous.

Around the stalk were wisteria blooms and plumes of baby's breath. The wisteria was another set of flowers that were gorgeous to look at, but deadly in the end.

Pulling away with a stiff back, she set her bare feet on the ground. Now that she was free from the flowers, the woody scent of winter savory and spike of tobacco in the background were the prominent aromas taking her attention. Looking around her, her cloak was dry, laid on the end of her borrowed bed alone with her boots set up in a neat row by her feet.

This place was extravagant. A fairytale daydream, perfect for her head-in-the-clouds mindset.

This had to be a castle. No random hut could have something this indulgent.

There was only one castle she knew of.

Memories came back to (Y/N) in pieces.

The storm. She had left the Wayfields' home, telling them she would head straight home despite knowing she was lying. She had wanted some time alone, away from her father's overprotective gaze. But the storm was too much. She had pathetically lost her way and panicked, remembering the woman she had found in the woods.

Then, there was the gleaming black carriage. The ghostly pale face of the Count who offered to take her home, get her out of the rain and into safety before he would be on his way. She remembered him helping her into the carriage, telling the coachman that they needed to drop her back at the apothecary. Her emotions had fluctuated to opposite ends of the spectrum: extreme panic under the sheets of rain to the deep relief she felt at seeing a familiar face who could help her.

The last few things she could remember was the guilt she felt at ruining the luxe seating in the Count's carriage before looking up to see him facing her directly with his breathtaking features. That was all that had been left before she tumbled back and lost consciousness.

This was no doubt the Count's home. There had been times she had wondered what kind of interior a building as magnificent as this one would have, but she had never thought of something this indulgent.

Though, despite her admirations, she couldn't stay here.

She was never supposed to take even the long walk home, let alone travel all the way to the gargantuan home that the most notorious member of the village resided in. (Naming him as a member of their village was a stretch, but the easiest way for (Y/N) to think at the moment). There was no telling how long she had been out, but her father was going to kill her even if it was ten seconds.

Despite the ache in her bones and the stiff fabric of her ill dried dress, she forced her boots back on, the laces pulled into clumsy bows. Her cloak was grabbed in a haste before she started towards the door. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she needed to get back home as soon as she could.

Swinging open the heavy door, (Y/N) swayed on her feet, stopping in her tracks when she saw who was on the other side.

Propped against the opposing wall, between more cut flowers and immaculate paintings, was the Count himself.

He was at attention within a second, but (Y/N) had caught the way he had been slumped against the wall, his shoulders a sullen slope. In an instant, he had crossed the grand hall to meet her at her door, his hands reaching out towards her. His eyes looked darker than ever, only light shatters of deep green apparent in his iris. His usually flawless hair was left in disarray. Somewhere, he had shed his coat and cravat, leaving the billowed sleeves of his shirt and grey waistcoat the only articles on his torso. Even the neckline of his white shirt had been left loose, a stretch of creamy skin on display.

"Are you okay?" he breathed out, his gaze immediately tripping down her form before she had a chance to answer, "I-I tried to make sure you hadn't injured your head, or-or worse when you fell faint, but I couldn't be positive."

Her lashes fluttered in a blink as she startled over his concern. She had never seen him so discomposed, his demeanor world's away from calm.

"I-I'm alright," she breathed, finding her tongue in her dry mouth, "You brought me to your home?" She could vaguely remember him ordering the coachman to take her home, back to the flat above the apothecary.

He wet his lips, his eyes searching through hers as he collected his words. "When you fell faint," he started, "I was not sure if you would have been alone if I took you home. I was worried; I decided to take you back here, so I could keep an eye on you. That's all, I swear it."

She was sure he knew just as well as she that being alone like this—unchaperoned, neither of them dressed as they typically should be, no one aware of her whereabouts—was more inappropriate than a single moonlight stroll through town. This could ruin both of them if anyone found out; (Y/N) would be deemed unbecoming for marriage, and the small amount of reputation Harry had would be buried six feet under.

Throughout all, (Y/N) still found her skin warming, seeing how genuinely he spoke of her and his worry of her well-being. Other than her cloak and boots, she could tell none of her clothing had been tampered with. He had done nothing more than keep an eye on her.

"Thank you," she swallowed, nodding her head as she allowed a small smile to curl her lips. She felt a bit desperate then, hoping he knew how deep her gratitude went. "Truly, thank you. I-I don't know what happened to me, it was scary."

"I'm sure it was," he murmured, the tight set to his features loosening the longer she stood in one piece before him. "I am glad I found you when I did."

"How long has it been?" she asked, noticing not a single window that could give away the time of day. She wasn't even sure if it was still night time.

He deflated some at her words. "A few hours, I think" he shared, dropping his gaze as if realizing just now how long he had been her self-appointed guardian, "The storm finally ended not too long ago. You were exhausted, (Y/N)."

She had never heard her name wrapped in his voice before. Looking at him now, she was back in that carriage with her lungs stunted and mind only on him. She swore she could see his eyes lightening before her gaze, more and more green coming to the surface like a murky pond under sunlight. The panicked urge she had to race home slowly melted out of her.

"I'm not surprised," she agreed, finally breaking her gaze from his for no other reason than to allow her breath to come back. She cast her eyes around the opulent space, taking in the priceless art around her, the glossy flooring and detailed decor. "This is your home?"

"For as long as I can remember," he smiled, pride straightening his shoulders as he followed her line of sight, "It's my sanctuary. If you'd like, I can have the kitchen make something for you and I can give you a tour of the grounds in the meantime."

Instantly, she wanted to accept. She wanted to see what kind of creations a place like this could make in the kitchen. She wanted to know where he had found such gorgeous, but deadly plantlife. She wanted to know if any of her daydreams had been right about this place.

Unfortunately, there was that niggling worry that popped back up in the back of her mind.

"As much as I would love to, I can't," she reluctantly let out, "I have to go home. My father... he's probably rallying the village as we speak, trying to find me before he loses his mind."

Harry's expression fell, losing that pride over her praise. Nonetheless, he gave her a relenting nod. "I understand," he said, cracking a small smile, "I have had you hidden away for long enough, I suppose. I'll have my staff ready my carriage, and I'll have you home by dawn."

"Thank you," she said earnestly once more, "Really, Harry. I fear where I would be if you hadn't come across me."

"I do as well," he shared, his voice low as if sharing a secret with her.

This time, (Y/N) didn't wipe the smile from her lips as she looked up at him. Another shade of green seemingly appeared in his gaze.

—————

"You're not coming with me?" (Y/N) asked, poking her head out of the door of the coach when Harry didn't immediately follow after her. The first rays of sunlight were beginning to crest the horizon, giving away just how long she had been far from home, though that didn't stop her from stalling.

"Unfortunately," he said, keeping his feet planted on the ground outside the carriage. He looked up at her from where he stood, holding the door open as he spoke to her. "I have business to attend to very soon; I wouldn't have time to arrange everything if I escorted you this morning. I hope you'll accept my apologies, anyway."

Though she was disappointed she would lose out on time with him, she couldn't blame him. He must be a busy man if he had this place to call home and a full staff to take care of it. He didn't have time to chauffeur her around the village, even if that was what she wanted. He didn't even have a chance to tell her where he had found the flowers for his bouquets.

"I suppose I'll forgive you this time," she said, a sly smile on her lips that had Harry's own lips blooming, "But next time, I won't be so lenient."

"I appreciate your grace, my lady," he played along, offering her that dazzling smile and dimpled cheeks. "I promise to see you soon. I feel like I'll need to visit the apothecary sooner rather than later."

(Y/N) could take that promise. "I will make sure we stay stocked, then."

"Until next time," Harry said, inching away from the carriage with reluctant steps deeper into the shadows.

"Until next time."

With that, Harry closed the door to the coach, relaying the destination to the driver.

With her hands in her lap and heart bubbling in her chest, (Y/N) allowed her cheeks to split with her smile. Definitely better than any kind of daydream her cloudy head had come up with.

—————

As soon as she approached the church, (Y/N) was grateful for the instructions she had given to the coachmen to drop her at the edge of the village, leaving her to be the only one who had seen the carriage at all. As she had suspected, her father really had rallied every able body in the town. She could only imagine she had caught them right before they started combing the woods and terrorizing the neighboring villages until they found her.

It was Margret who had seen her first, breaking down into tears with a bursting sob before she was running towards (Y/N).

"Where have you been?!" she screamed, collapsing around (Y/N) in a steely hug, "I—We—Everyone thought you were—"

Margret didn't have to finish her words for (Y/N) to know what had been on the village's mind.

Before she had a chance to do anything more than reciprocate the hug and draw a breath, her father was barreling over. "(Y/N)!" he shouted, a mix of relief and anger tinting his tone. She doubted he even knew how to feel in that moment.

"I'm sorry, Margret," (Y/N) muttered, offering a consoling smile before pulling away from her hug. The Wayfields stepped forward to collect their daughter while (Y/N) went towards her father, already dreading the lecture she would receive. "Father, I—"

The air was stolen from her lungs the second he scooped her into a tight hug. "My daughter," he murmured into her hair, nestling her against his chest, "I thought the worst."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, aware of the eyes watching their embrace.

"What happened?" he asked, pulling away to face her with watery eyes and warm cheeks, "Why didn't you stay with Margret and her family? They said you went through the storm alone, promising to come back home."

(Y/N) felt immense floods of guilt bubble through her system. This wasn't the welcome home she had thought she'd garner.

"I hadn't meant to frighten anyone," she started, hoping the rest of the village overheard, "I only wanted a minute alone, but I was planning on coming home right away. But, the storm was so heavy, and I scared myself. I was disoriented and ended up a village over. I stayed in their church for the night, until it was safe to come home."

The lie slipped off her tongue like water, the story planned from her time in the carriage. Her guilt only worsened knowing she was deceiving her father, but she didn't want anyone to know where she had spent the night. Despite the impropriety of the whole thing situation Harry, she didn't want Mary and Ethel chattering to her father that the Count was trying to steal away his daughter and flay her before dropping her in the forest.

She didn't want Harry to be dragged into this.

His features tightened at her words, but she could see as he ultimately accepted them. "Okay," he relented before flexing his arms around her in a pulsing hug, "Never again, (Y/N). Do you hear me?"

"I hear you," she promised, holding him back just as tightly.

Over his shoulder, she could see the gleaming of a black carriage ascending the trail towards the large castle in the distance.

—————

oleander, if consumed, can slow the heart and cause death within hours.

ahhhhhh! super super super different for myself ngl! I changed a couple of ideas I had just bc I started scaring myself but thank you so much for reading! im so happy im finally putting out a halloween fic! so sorry for any mistakes and if theres any ideas or thoughts please send them in!

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shittyassffblog · 7 months

Text

Free Bird

Noah Sebastian x Reader

I felt horny as shit and couldn't stop myself so here is some smut with Noah <3

Warnings: P in v sex, use of Y/N, best friend!noah, oral sex

Pt 2 here

"And you can take your lame ass excuses and shove them up your ass! We're done! Goodbye!" You hung up and threw your phone on your bed, emitting a loud, frustrated and high pitched groan. You heard your PC ping on your desk and you glanced at it to see what was going on. It was Discord that alerted you that you had a message.

noah: wanna come on?

You stared at it, kind of angry that he didn't anticipate that you had just broken up with your boyfriend, but the rational part of you spoke louder and decided to just tell him you weren't in the mood.

you: naw, bad day. talk to u later tho <3

He was already typing so you sat in your chair and waited for his reply.

noah: at least call me and tell me what happened, maybe I can make your day better?

You bit your lip as you considered his offer. He was your best friend since you met at the Hot Topic you used to work at. He was just a tall, lanky emo buying A Day To Remember merch and you instantly had a connection with him. Since then, you started being friends and talking to each other every day. It's been 10 years now and you meant the world to each other. You had supported him through everything when it came to Bad Omens and you were so proud of how far he and the boys have come. So given how close you were you decided to just call him.

You put on your headset and glanced in the mirror beside your desk to see if it was noticeable that you'd been crying and decided that it wasn't. Not even five seconds passed after you pressed the "video call" button and he picked up.

"Hey sweets, what's up? Wanna talk about your bad day?" Noah asked and you sighed. You didn't even know where to start.

"Me and Chase broke up." You said shortly and Noah was silent for a while.

"Oh. Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice. Noah never liked your boyfriend and you knew that. You were half expecting him to clap in enjoyment.

"Not really. I was kind of expecting you to congratulate me." You said, still not looking at him.

"Why would I do that? You don't seem like this was a happy choice." He said.

"I broke up with him. But he cheated." You said and a tear fell down your cheek.

"God he's such a dick. But good for you that you left him. That doesn't mean that you're not allowed to be upset by it though." Noah said and you looked at him with tearful eyes. You were about to answer him when you heard a loud noise coming from him.

"Alright that's it, I'm coming over." He said, slamming his fist in his table.

"But it's 11 pm?" You said, almost as a question.

"Yeah well my best friend is sad over her shitty ex boyfriend, you don't think that warrants me coming over with pizza and booze? C'mon, what kind of a friend would I be? I'll be there soon. Love you!" He said and hung up before you could answer You sighed as the silence settled in your room and you looked around. You noticed Noahs hoodie hanging on your lamp and you decided to put it on. You walked into your bathroom to access the damage of your tears and found that it wasn't too bad. You wiped away a few stray tears with your sleeve and walked into your living room, seeing a few of your ex' stuff lying around. You grabbed a box from you last amazon shipment and filled it with everything you could find, including the stupid Five Finger Death Punch t-shirt he had given you, thinking you'd like it. As if. He didn't even know the bands you listened to.

Amid your rage cleaning, you heard the doorbell ring and you stopped as you dropped a shoe into the box. You looked at it and the memories of your past relationship came flooding back, as did your tears. You went to let Noah in and he immediately went to hug you.

"I'm so sorry you're going through this." He said and kissed the top of your head as the hood of his hoodie fell down. You cried into his chest and he rubbed his hand along your arm.

After a while he lead you to the couch and set down the pizza and beer bottle he had picked up for you on the coffee table.

"Wanna tell me what happened? How did you find out?" Noah asked, separating from you to wipe away your tears.

"She fucking DM'ed me. The girl he was with, her name was Emily or something. She had slept with him and then found him on Facebook to find that it said he was in a relationship and decided to tell me about it and apologised. Of course i don't blame her, she didn't know. But man, it just felt like a knife in my gut." You said, sniffing. Noah grabbed a napkin from the coffee table and handed it to you to help you blow your nose.

"Then did you call him?" Noah asked, taking the pizza out of the bag so you could use the bag as a trash can your your snotty paper.

"Yeah and I spent like 20 minutes yelling at him. He tried saying something like she was lying or something but she had sent me screenshots of him asking to pick her up or something." You finished and Noah sighed, pulling you in for another hug.

"He's isn't worth your tears c'mon. You're far too good of a catch to let a guy like that ruin you." Noah said and you smiled up at him. The doorbell rung again and you looked at Noah quizzically. He got up and opened the door for you. It was Chase. You felt your whole body stiffen.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Noah said, immediately tensing his body. Chase only laughed when he saw Noah, and then looked over at you.

"Really Y/N? Not even an hour later and you're already on to the next one? Knew I couldn't trust you, fucking bitch." He said and before you could answer, Noah had pushed Chase out the door.

"Yeah you don't get to make accusations you know nothing about. I think you should leave." Noah said, his words and tone calm but his body ready for whatever Chase could come up with.

"I knew there was more to this...thing, you and her call a friendship, so much for the bro code huh?" Chase said, trying to upset Noah.

"Don't think for a second I think of you as a bro. Not for one damn second. It is very easy to treat a woman right without expecting something in return and you couldn't even do that so leave." Noah said, pushing Chase once more. You couldn't do much but watch as everything happened. You were frozen.

"You're just gonna sit there looking stupid? What's wrong with you bitch, say something!" Chase yelled, charging forward towards you but was stopped in his tracks as Noah grabbed a handfull of his hair and dragged him outside. You ran to the door to see what was going on and Noah forced Chase down on the ground, got down on one knee and grabbed his throat.

"You leave her alone. Got it?" Chase nodded weakly and as soon as Noah let go and stood up, he ran as fast as he could. Noah walked quickly into the living room, grabbed the box of Chase's things and threw them after him.

"Don't think about coming back." He yelled and watched as Chase pathetically picked his stuff up from the ground. Noah walked back to you, taking a deep breath to calm down and grabbed your face.

"Are you okay? Did he always talk to you like that?" He asked calmly and you nodded.

"He has anger issues." You said meekly and Noah wrapped you in his arms.

"Let's devour that pizza now, shall we?" Noah asked and you smiled at him as you nodded.

"Didn't know you were that strong though." You said, trying to lighten the mood.

"I may or may not have been working out while I was on tour." He said flexing his arms playfully. You laughed as you sat down to enjoy the pizza.

A few days passed and you were doing surprisingly well. Noah was practicing for the next leg of the tour and you were setting up dating profiles. You decided that you needed a palate cleanser to get rid of the "chase cooties" as Noah called it when he suggested you try it. You were apprehensive at first but ultimately decided it was a good idea.

You were in your kitchen waiting for your leftovers to heat up in the microwave as you were swiping on tinder. No one really captured your eye except this one guy with a dragon tattooed on his neck. His name was Steven and he was not far from you. You decided to swipe on him, and not long after your microwave dinged so you locked your phone and went to eat it. As you sat by your counter and ate your food, a notification came up that Steven had matched with you. Not long after he sent you a message.

Steven: Hey, nice tats. Wanna grab a drink this week?

You stared at the message. No emojis. He had two pictures on his profile, but it linked to his instagram. You looked through and he seemed real enough so you said yes to the drink.

You planned to meet the following friday and you texted Noah to let him know where you'd be in case something happened.

Noah: go get em tiger! get ur dick wet!

You laughed at his message and sent a gif saying 'disgustang'.

Friday came and you were getting dressed for your date. You put on some dark red lipstick and a low cut top Chase never allowed you to wear and headed out the door. You felt very liberated that you could make your own choices again and happily waited for Steven a few blocks away from your apartment.

Not long after a black sports car Xoomed up to your and packed right in front of you. A very attractive man with a dragon on his neck emerged from the car.

"Y/N?" He asked and you nodded. He walked around the car and grabbed your hand to kiss it. "Pleasure to meet you, gorgeous." he said and you blushed.

"Likewise." You said and he smiled while opening the car door for you.

Not long after you arrived at the bar and he ordered you a drink and a beer for himself. You talked for a while and had a genuinely good conversation. You went to the bathroom and texted Noah an update and he sent a sports gif of a tiger mascot. You laughed and put your phone in your pocket, ready to get out the guy again.

When you came back, Steven started asking you some personal questions. At first you didn't think much of it, but the question got more and more sexual and you were feeling quite uncomfortable. When you answers got more and more short and cold he started berating you, asking why you were such a prude and generally being a dick to you.

"Do you think you just get free drinks and then that's it? No no, you gotta do something for me too sweetheart." He said and you picked up your phone, texting Noah to come get you.

"You don't seem like a very nice person." You said, finishing your drink and locking eyes with the bartender. He nodded at you, meaning he would keep an eye on you.

"I'm very nice, trust me, but only to nice girls, not gold diggers like you." He bit back and you put on your jacket. You didn't answer him, only stared at him.

"What you're just not gonna say anything?" He asked and you still didn't answer. The bartender came over.

"Hey so I think you should leave now." Said the bartender and Steve looked up at him like he was dumb.

"You can't kick me out, I didn't do anything." He said, rolling his eyes and looking back at you.

"Yes we can , we have the right to refuse service to anyone for any reason. So leave." He said back and you started to feel scared of what Steven would do.

"Let me speak to your manager." said Steven and the bartender agreed. Steven got up and went to the bar, and while he was arguing with the bar manager you slipped out, waiting for Noah. Just as you got outside, he pulled up and you got into the car,

"Hey sweets, how was it?" Noah teased and you rolled your eyes.

"Horrible, he was a giant dick." You said, grabbing the water bottle Noah brought for you. You took a giant gulp of it.

"What do you mean?" Noah asked as he drove you home.

"He was just horrible, I don't really wanna talk about it. " You said, and he nodded, respecting your privacy, You would talk about it when you wanted to.

"Don't let this one guy deter you from online dating though. It can be really fun you know." Noah said and you scoffed.

"Yeah for guys maybe." You said coldly and Noah glanced at you. He knew you didn't mean anything by it.

"Wanna elaborate?" He asked and you sighed.

"Well it's just, for guys it's fine, you can just order women to do what you want and if they don't want to it's on to the next one and then you put your dick in them and then that's that. For women it's like, if I reject this guy, will I be dead by the time the sun comes up?" You said huffing. Noah nodded in understanding.

"I mean I know that's a real fear that women have and that sucks a lot, but there must be a space where you can have fun too right?" He asked carefully. He didn't want to seem like he wasn't empathetic to your pain, but he still wanted to help you get over your ex.

"Yeah with a person you trust sure. But online dating is a rapists wet dream." you said. "And even then, sex isn't even worth that much."

Noah looked at you quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I just never felt that big climax that people talk about. I guess my orgasms aren't very intense when I have sex." You said and Noah looked questioningly at you while still keeping an eye on the road.

"Well what about when you're alone?" He asked and you looked at him. Might as well be honest now, you thought.

"Yeah then I feel great, but when I'm with someone it's like it's just there a little, then it gets kind of good but then they're done." You said shrugging your shoulders. Noah let out a noise you had never heard before.

"You never had anyone give you an orgasm?" Noah asked incredulously.

"Well I don't know. Maybe?" You said. "I've only ever been with Chase." You said. And Noahs eyes were bigger than you've ever seen them before. You were arriving at your house and he put the car in park.

"What about when he ate you out?" Noah asked, genuinely curious.

"Chase thought it was gross. Don't you?" You asked, turning your body a little. He looked at you like you were crazy.

"What?" You asked.

"I love eating pussy, it's my favourite passtime!" He said and you laughed.

"What do you mean? Does it even taste good?" You asked and he nodded wildly

"Yeah I mean it depends a lot but generally yeah I like the taste." Noah said.

"Well, Chase never liked it so we didn't do it." You said, crossing your legs. Noah chuckled a little.

"He really was a little bitch huh. You deserve someone who loves eating your pussy." He said, grabbing your leg, like he'd done many times before, but this time it was different. This time his hand shot electricity up your thigh, making you squirm a little in your seat.

"Would...Would you show me?" You asked and his grip on your thigh tightened. You glanced a little at him and you could see his jaw tightened.

"I uh..I don't know if that's a good idea Y/N." He said and you looked at him properly. He wouldn't meet your eyes, but his hand stayed where it was.

"C'mon Noah. I've clearly missed out on a lot. Show me." You asked, getting closer to him. You didn't know where all this confidence came from, or why you wanted your best friends mouth on you so bad, but you did. He turned to look at you, but his eyes were trained on your lips. He let out a shaky breath and let go of your leg. You leaned back, afraid you had upset him or made him uncomfortable, but he was taking off his seat belt.

"I'll show you. But just this once, I don't wanna ruin our friendship. And we don't mention it to anyone." He said and you grinned, unbuckling your own seat belt and got out of his car. You already felt yourself getting excited.

"Wow you are really horny huh?" Noah said as he locked the car, holding out his arm to wrap it around your shoulder as he walked you inside. You unlocked the door and led him to your bedroom.

As you closed the door, he sat himself on the bed. You sat beside him and a kind of awkward silence fell between you. You felt like you kind of sobered up by the reality of what you had asked your best friend to do.

"If this is gonna ruin our friendship we could just forget it or something." You said, not meeting Noah eye. He looked at you for a moment not answering.

"We could also just agree to not let it ruin our friendship. This is a one time thing, to show you what you should expect from guys that you date in the future, and to get to know each other better." Noah said, and you were surprised he seemed to have thought this through.

"That doesn't sound too bad." You said, looking down at your hands. He reached over and held one of them, squeezing it to make you look at him.

"I love you, Y/N. I want to keep being friends so this will just be two people having fun for a night and then never doing it again, right?" He asked with a sweet smile and you nodded. He smiled a little wider and before you knew it, he was leaning in, closing his eyes in the process.

"Woah what are you doing?" You said, pulling away. He opened his eyes and looked at you quizzically.

"Well I need to turn you on before we begin, only way I know how to do that is to kiss you first, is that okay?" He asked softly. When he said it, it makes sense. But no one ever did this with you. Cared for your pleasure like this. It was different.

"Y-yeah, that's umm...that's okay." You stuttered out, and he smiled again, this time moving closer to you and lightly grabbing your chin with his thumb og index finger. You let yourself relax and Noah do what he wanted to. He seemed to know best. When his lips touched yours it was light and soft, yet had passion. Like he wanted something you didn't know to give him, and it was his job to pull it from you. You kissed back, and before you knew it, his tongue was in your mouth. You had thought about kissing Noah before, but this was way different than what you had imagined. Good different, but different.

His hand on your chin fell to your neck, tracing down your arm and landed itself on your waist. He pulled, as if to get you to move closer. Already this was way better than what you had experienced before, Noah clearly knew what he was doing. You wondered where he had learned it, but decided to not ask. This was too nice.

A soft moan fell from his lips and you were brought back from your train of thought. His lips left yours and for a second you thought about whining, but when his lips attached to your jaw, right below your ear and then your neck, that whine quickly turned into a moan.

"Sensitive on your neck?" He asked and you let out a breathy sound that was supposed to be a laugh. He went right back to kissing your neck, teeth getting involved sometimes and the moans that were falling from your lips were fewer between.

"Can I take your shirt off?" Noah asked and you nodded. He smiled and grabbed the hem of your shirt, lifting it up over your head. "It's a shame though." He said, eyeing up your chest.

"What is?" You asked, kind og dazedly.

"Taking your shirt off. You looked really good in it. Why don't you ever dress like that for me?" He asked smirking while laying you down on your back, leaning over you.

"Well I don't make it a habit of sleeping with my best friend." You said smiling slightly.

"You should, he's enjoying it so far." He joked and you laughed while he kissed you between your breasts. "Can I take off your bra too?" He asked, looking up at you. His voice was low, which only made this all the more enticing. You nodded slowly, laying your head back to try and think of something else besides your best friend looking at your tits. You lifted your back little so he could fit his arm under it and unclasp your bra. He slowly guided the straps down your arms, a soft groan emitting from his lips.

"Goddamn, if I knew you were hiding these under your baggy hoodies we would have done this a long time ago." Noah said, and you laughed a little.

"Yeah cause when we met at 14 my tits were definitely this size, right." You joked, but your sentence ended with a gasp as his lips closed around one nipple while his hand massaged the other. He was soft about it all, like licking a soft serve ice cream. It caused you to mewl, which Chase could never have done to you. It was like Noah knew how to handle your body, without ever asking you.

"Kinda wanna think about your adult tits right now if you don't mind?" He said as he shifted to the other nipple. You chuckled at that and let him do his thing. He moved on to your stomach and when he reached the edge of your pant he stopped and looked up at you yet again asking, "Is this okay? can I take your pants off?" You nodded and lifted your ass, his slender, tattooed fingers grasping the edge of your pants and pulling them down, kissing just above the edge of your underwear.

"These too?" He asked and you laughed a little.

"You gonna ask every time you do something new?" You asked and he stopped what he was doing to look at you.

"Yes, how else do I know what I have consent for?" He asked.

"That is the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me ever." You said and he laughed.

"You gotta raise your standards babe." He said, going back to kissing the lower part of your stomach. "You gonna answer my question?" He asked, running his hands up and down your legs.

"I forgot what the question was." You said truthfully. He laughed as he rested his head again your hip.

"I asked if I could take off your underwear too." He said, and your heart started beating faster.

"Uh yeah. Yeah that's okay." You said. The seriousness of the situation was starting to settle in and you were kind of nervous. When he pulled off your underwear it would be crossing a line that has never been crossed before and it couldn't ever be uncrossed again. Noah could sense your hesitation so he stopped.

"If you wanna stop, tell me. It's no fun if you're not having fun." He said and you knew he meant it.

"No it's okay I'm just kind of nervous." You admitted and he came back up to your face.

"Hey. It's just me. It'll be okay." He said smiling and you smiled back, taking in a deep breath as he lowered his body again, kissing along your body as he did so. He grabbed the hem of your underwear and pulled them down. You were worried he would be repulsed by then smell of you, but when you looked down at him all you could see was hunger in his eyes. It made you feel better to know that he didn't care about the smell, so you tried to relax in his presence.

He kissed the inside of your thigh, grabbing them both and pushing up so you bend your knees. You felt very exposed, and you wished he would just get on with it.

"So pretty baby. Can't wait to taste you." He said and it made your stomach soar. Did he really not find it gross?

"You know, you don't have to do this either, like if it's too gross for you or something." You said, biting your lip. You wanted him to continue, but you understood if he didn't want to.

"I don't wanna stop. And nothing about this perfect pussy could be gross." He said, kissing up your other thigh. You took a deep breath and let him do as he pleased.

He kissed your pussy as if he was knocking for entrance, and spread your legs further. He then started at your clit, licking small, tentative licks as to not overwhelm you. When you sighed in pleasure he took that as a sign he could continue, and let his tongue wander down to your entrance and licked into you.

"Oh my god." You said, already it felt better than it has with anyone else. It seemed to urge Noah to go further, so he licked a big broad stripe up your pussy and you hummed.

"Oh Noah it feels so good." You said lowly and he smiled. A devilish smile, one that you felt was too cocky for his own good but you were struggling to care. He pleasured you with such patience, the tight feeling in your stomach building and building and you almost thought he was a magician, as fast as he was getting you worked up.

What you didn't expect was the finger that was circling your opening before entering you gently.

"Holy fuck, Noah." You said and he hummed a soft 'hmm?' as if asking what was the issue.

"Oh you make me feel so good Noah." You said and his finger slid into you further and further, stopping and then curling, reaching a spot inside you that made your whole body writhe. He was rubbing the spot, not letting one movement of his finger go without touching it.

"What the fuck Noah?" You asked, sitting half up as you grabbed his hair to keep yourself grounded. He detached himself from your pussy and smiled up at you.

"That feel good baby?" He asked, his eyelids hanging low on his eyes. You could do nothing but nod as the movements of his fingers didn't halt for even a second while he took at good look at you. He went back to your clit, this time sucking on it gently and making your hips buck up into his face. It only seemed to spur him on, as his movements sped up. You felt a familiar feeling coming and you tangled your fingers in Noah’s hair, pulling when he hit a particularly nice spot inside you.

“Noah, I’m so close.” You warned, and he sped up yet again, only he stopped sucking your clit and instead look at you through heavy eyelids, right into yours. You were a moaning mess, not being able to control it anymore as you came on his fingers, yelling his name out. He helped you through your orgasm and when you were panting for air he slowly pulled his finger out of you and made sure you saw him lick it clean. You couldn’t believe what just happened, your best friend just gave you the orgasm of your life.

“How in the hell did you do that?” You asked him, still not being able to catch your breath.

“Well practice makes perfect I guess” he said laughing. You laughed with him and he came up to lay beside you. A silence fell between you, but it wasn’t awkward. You were still coming down from your high and you noticed Noah shifting a little, seeming restless.

“You okay over there?” You asked and he looked at you with a little blush on his face.

“Well, I told you I love eating pussy” he said chuckling slightly as he readjusted himself in his shorts You considered your options. You could leave the room, pretend you had to pee and let him do his thing. Or…

“You want help with that?” You asked, turning to him. He looked at you, searching your eyes for any sort of insincerity, but he couldn’t find any. He nodded slowly and you smiled, reaching hesitantly over to kiss his lips. You tasted yourself on him, and you couldn’t imagine what Chase would have against the taste, it was not bad at all. You were taken by surprise when Noah wrapped his arms around you and pulled you on top of him, deepening the kiss.

“You are wearing far too many clothes.” You said between kisses and he hummed a sound of agreement. You pulled off his hoodie and went right back to kissing him, hungry for him in a way you never were for anyone else. He grabbed two handfuls of your ass, not caring if his grip left bruises on it, grinding you down onto the bulge in his shorts. It made you moan into his mouth, giving him an opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth. You grinded on him as your tongues pushed against each other, revelling in this new feeling with each other. It felt liberating, to not care where the line was or how far it was crossed.

"How do you wanna do this? Hm?" Noah asked, and you were confused by what he meant.

"What?" Was all you could muster out, being out of breath.

"Do you wanna have sex?" Noah asked directly this time and you thought about it for only a second before nodding wildly. He smiled at that and rolled you around, getting up from the bed to undress fully. You could not contain your stare, and you wanted to touch yourself so bad. He had clearly been working out on tour, his once lanky frame was replaced by the lean muscles of his arms, his legs were carved like a god and the tattoos definitely only made it better.

"Touch yourself for me." Noah said which brought you back to reality.

"What?" You asked, wondering if you had heard him correctly. He couldn't possibly mean that, right?

"If you're comfortable, then touch yourself for me. Want to see you pleasure yourself." He said as he pulled off his underwear. You didn't dare look, afraid it would make him uncomfortable so you looked at the ceiling as your hand travelled from your stomach down to your core. You ran your fingers along your clit in a circular motion and you felt the bed dip as he came to lay beside you.

"You're such a good girl Y/N. You really are. Look at you, doing exactly what I told you. Such a good girl." Noah whispered in your ear and it only made your fingers speed up.

"You have a condom sweetheart?" He asked and you pointed towards the nightstand you had by your bed. He turned around to grab one, and while we was distracted you took at look at his member and let out a moan you didn't mean to let out. He was big, bigger than Chase and you could barely imagine it would fit. You fingers stilled as your gaze was caught on his thick cock.

"What's wrong sweets?" Noah asked, rubbing his thumb along your thigh.

"Oh nothing uhh, nothing." You said, smiling at him. He could tell it wasn't nothing though.

"Hey, you can tell me, do you want to stop?" He asked, and you shook your head furiously.

"No! No no, I'm just, nervous I guess." You admitted, looking down. He turned to hug you and kissed your forehead.

"Nothing to be nervous about baby, it's just me." He said smiling.

"Will it fit though?" You asked sheepishly and his eyes shot to yours. You worried you had said something wrong.

"That is the hottest shit i've ever heard." He said, kissing your lips. You smiled into the kiss, your hands grabbing his face and letting the kiss overtake you. He rolled on top of you, slotting himself in between your legs, groping your body and worshipping the softness of your skin. He started grinding against your heat, pulling moans from your lips.

"God Noah, please do something." You whined and he smiled mischievously, kissing you one last time before sitting back on his knees and stroking his cock a few times before running it up and down your slit. This you knew how to do. This was familiar terretory. Or so you thought. He pushed into you slowly, relishing in the tightness of your pussy, and when he bottomed out, he let out a long groan, burying his face in your neck. You had never felt so cared for and filled to the brim with pleasure before. You were overwhelmed with emotion and felt tears spring to you eyes.

"You just tell me when I can move- hey are you okay?" Noah immediately changed demeanour when he saw your wet eyes.

"No yeah I'm good, really, I just...uhm I don't know why." You admitted and he smoothed down your hair to comfort you.

"Do you want to stop?" He asked and you shook your head, smiling at him.

"No it's okay, you can move. I promise I'm fine!" You assured him as he looked at you questioningly. He didn't seem convinced.

"I promise I'm fine Noah, I'm just a bit overwhelmed, no one ever took care of me like this before." You said, avoiding his eyes. He kissed your cheek.

"Okay, but you have to tell me if I have to stop okay? Can you promise that?" He asked, trying to catch your eyes. You nodded, and he smiled a comforting smile as he kissed your neck again.

"You can move." You said, and he pulled almost all the way out, only to slide right back in, in the same excruciatingly slow pace. You wrapped your legs around his lower back, boring your heels into him, desperate to have him fuck you senseless.

"Noah, please, c'mon." You plead and he chuckled.

"Tell me what you want baby." He murmured in your ear, his pace still as slow.

"Please fuck me Noah." You asked, looking him directly in the eyes. He looked back, and before long his hips picked up speed, pounding into you as you threw your head back in pleasure.

"Oh Noah!" You moaned, not caring how loud you were. If your neighbours heard, you'd hear about it in the morning. The sound of your moans only spurred Noah on, his thrusts relentless and his breath fast.

"Fuck Y/N. Fuck we're definitely doing this again." He said and you laughed breathlessly as you dug your nails into is back. He moved slightly and with that he started hitting a spot that felt incredible many times, over and over, eliciting screams from your throat.

"Holy fuck Noah, shit shit shit, fuck, oh fuck." You rambled and Noah kept up his thrusts, moving his hips back and forth. You could feel the feeling come back, the incredibly intense feeling in your core building and building, and before long your nails dragged along his back as you screamed out his name. Your pussy clenched around him and you couldn't hold back even if you tried. Your orgasm overflowed and wouldn't stop, you legs shaking as the intense waves of pleasure washed over you. Noah kept thrusting into you through your orgasm, and when you opened your eyes again he turned you around so he was under you.

"You okay?" He asked breathlessly and you nodded lazily.

"Yeah just...intense." You said smiling. "Did you..?" You asked.

"No not yet." He said smiling. "Are you okay to continue?" He asked.

"Yeah I'm okay." You said, moving your hips slowly. He grabbed your ass, holding onto you tight and lifting you a little and started pounding into you even more relentlessly. You could barely think straight as he used your pussy until he came into the condom, deep groan escaping his throat. His hips slowed down and he let you go, burying his now softening cock into you as he caught his breath.

"Holy shit Noah." You said out of breath ad he laughed.

"Was that okay?" He asked and you nodded, kissing him. You didn't know when would be the last time you got to kiss him like this again so you decided to enjoy as much as you could. He grabbed the base of the condom and told you to get off and you did. He removed the condom and wrapped it in some tissues you had on your nightstand, as well as wiping his dick. When he was done he looked over at you and smiled. You smiled back and you wrapped yourselves in each others arms, enjoying the bubble you two had created that no one could penetrate.

The morning after woke up alone, your clothes on the floor and a feeling of complete satisfaction, yet complete loneliness.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #concrete forever #bad omens band #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #noah sebastian smut

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sunflower-lilac42 · 25 days

Text

✧ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞 | trevor zegras ♔

summary: jack and the brothers show up to their sister's apartment and words were said and things were done

warnings: fighting between siblings, slut-shaming, jack being a dick, jack being sad, mentions/allusions to eating disorders/lack of eating, mentions of dying, negative/bad thoughts, allusions to panic attacks, crying, jack being sad, jack crying

file type: fic; part two - the secret's out

published: 3/29/24

notes: so here's this. i don't know if this is actually good or not or if i just babbled on for almost 5k words. however i hope you guys are pleased with this, thank you for the huge support on part one, i honestly wasn't expecting that! i am so grateful for all of you. let me know what you want to see next!! | add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!

part one (the secret's out) | nhl masterlist | main masterlist

She wasn’t expecting that. Maybe if she looked at her phone she would have a little bit more of a warning but she didn’t. She and Trevor exchanged wide glances, trying to figure out their next move. Lia looked between them, “I can tell them to fuck off if I need to. I got this.”

“I’m going to have to face them at some point. Might as well do it now.”

She pushed the covers off of her and stood up, making her way to follow Lia when Trevor stopped her, “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” She would soon regret those words.

She made her way into the foyer of their apartment, opening the door that Lia had previously closed. She looked between all three brothers, drifting her eyes to make eye contact at the various heights of the three. At first glance, they seemed perfectly fine. But to her, and Trevor, they looked pissed.

They all did this weird thing when they got angry or frustrated, y/n included. They stood with their hands in their pockets as their faces settled into a glare. They stood shoulder-width apart and stood eerily still. They could be a statue with how still they stood. Now it sounds normal, but to anyone who knows them, it wasn’t. They would all stand that way when at least one was mad.

Knowing that, when she saw them she shrunk into herself. Her eyes flickered to the ground and she stayed silent. Trevor stood off to the side and out of sight, not wanting to make matters worse for her. Luke was the least mad, he understood why they hid it and honestly was supportive of the couple. He had no reason to doubt their relationship.

At this point, Luke was the one who was most worried about her. He knew how she could tend to always do what everyone wanted her to do. She hated making people upset and hated disappointing people, especially her family. She stepped back and allowed the three to walk in, proceeding to stand in the living room.

Jack looked around and spotted Trevor, “Oh of course you’re here.”

Another thing she hated was fights. It meant that someone had done something wrong and when she was involved, it meant that she did something wrong. On top of that, the sound of fighting had always been triggered from a young age. No matter who it was, why they were shouting, where they were, it always hurt her. She couldn’t remember what made her feel this way but her parents always told her she got into a fight with her brothers and ever since then she hated it.

“Don’t be mad at-”

“Don’t be mad? You’re fucking my best friend of course I’m mad!”

“Justice for Cole, for real,” Lia murmured as she walked into her room, having no energy to deal with the situation.

Y/n flinched at his words, she really didn’t think he would be this mad. Jack redirected his attention to the boy standing in the corner, “And you? Putting your fucking hands on my sister?! Come on, dude.”

Quinn and Luke stood behind Jack, allowing him to blow off some steam. They wouldn’t let things get too out of hand. Jack continued to ramble about how betrayed he felt by both Trevor and y/n, only some words sticking out to the two of them. At this point, she was pretty sure he was getting angrier than calmer.

“You just had to go and ruin everything, didn’t you?” His eyes fell on his sister and everyone gaped at him.

Trevor pushed himself off the wall and made his way over to stand next to her, “Don’t do that, Jack. It was both of our decisions. Not just her.”

“Can’t fight your own battles anymore?”

Y/n was in shock at how he was acting. He had every right to be mad but he didn’t have to say what he was going to, what he had been saying. Though, as much as she was surprised by it, she knew she deserved it. She thought she deserved every negative thing that came her way and this was no exception. She allowed Jack to yell at her, slowly shrinking into herself as Trevor stepped in front of her.

“No wonder relationships never worked out for you. Wonder how long you’re gonna keep him around. Should’ve known you’d go after any guy that pays attention to you. Don’t know why everyone was saying I would be the slut of the family.” He ran a hand harshly through his hair.

That made her eyes tear up, it was a low blow, and everyone in the room knew it. She had never had the best track record with relationships, she was always scared of her brothers finding out that she broke them off before they had a chance to notice. There was one time when they found out that they hated him and hated the fact that she hid it from them. They got too protective and demanded she break up with him but she was going to anyway so she didn’t fight back.

Luke tried to interject after he said that, noticing the way she was practically crying. Jack silenced him by holding a finger up. Jack’s gaze once again flickered between the two before finally landing on Trevor, “You’re a dick you know that. Can’t keep a girl for the fucking life of you, can’t keep it in your pants. Well, I guess neither can she, can you y/n?”

She raised her head to look at him, eyes watering as one lone tear fell down her cheek. Jack’s mind was clouded, he couldn’t think about anything but the anger he felt. It clouded his judgment, laced his voice, and triggered his words, that’s all he could focus on. He would never speak to her like this but when the article came out and more and more people started to agree with it, he couldn’t see past the frustration.

“I mean are you even my friend anymore? What kind of friend hooks up with their friend’s sister?”

“Of course, I’m still your friend Jack, but-”

“But what? You thought with your dick instead of your head?”

“Jesus, Jack can you calm the fuck down? I get you’re mad I do, but you don’t need to say that kind of shit. Especially to y/n.”

“You know you’re gonna have to choose right? Between me and her.”

“Okay.”

Y/n looked up at her boyfriend with worry, he had just said all of these nice things about her and their relationship. It’s not that she didn’t trust Trevor to pick her, it’s just that with all the guys that she chose her brothers over, she thought this was finally karma. But Trevor’s lips turned into a smirk, “I choose her.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, matching Jack’s eyes, “You what?”

“You heard me. I love her and frankly, I’m not willing to be friends with a little bitch who yells at their sister because she finally found someone who she loved and who loved her back. And someone who’s got a bigger ego than their dick.”

If things weren’t silent before they sure were now. Trevor cocked an eyebrow as Jack stood there in silence. Not even two minutes later Jack was storming out of the apartment with his two brothers following after him. When Luke reached the door he looked back at his sister and went to take a step back but Jack called out his name and he disappeared down the hallway.

Trevor watched as y/n stumbled backward and caught her in his arms, slowly sinking down to the floor like he had done earlier when he arrived. He shushed her as the words “I hate them” tumbled out of her mouth over and over again. He placed a kiss on her forehead as tears dampened his sweatshirt, “I got you, baby. We’re gonna be okay.”

✧༺✎༻∞

Over the next week or so, y/n heavily debated what she wanted to do. If she wanted to go home to her parents, go home to Trevor’s new apartment that he had bought for them, stay away in London to hide from her problems or move to an entirely new country where no one could find her. However, none of these seemed like plausible, realistic options.

Jack’s words clouded her judgment, should’ve known you’d have gone after any guy that paid any attention to you, you’re a slut you know that, god forbid you let me have my own friends, you ruin everything. She would never be able to forget those words.

It hurt, knowing that her brothers didn’t want her as much as everyone else did. It was bad enough that she got spammed comments about her being a slut or a whore or a traitor (sure that last one wasn’t as mean as the others), but to hear it from her own brother, her twin brother. Nothing compares to that feeling and nothing will ever compare to that feeling.

She beat herself up every day about it, going as far as to try and break up with Trevor. But, Trevor was having none of it. He wasn’t going to let some self-centered jerk come and ruin all that they had worked for, and fought for, even if that self-centered jerk was her brother. Her happiness was what mattered to him and it was all that was going to matter to him.

It was five days after Jack and co. invaded her apartment. She and Trevor were on her bed, underneath the covers. She hadn’t really talked, still reeling from the events of the past week. Everything seemed to happen so suddenly, and abruptly, that no one gave her time to think about anything. It was like the Universe was punishing her for finally doing something for her and not for someone else.

“Baby?”

She looked over at him, eyes slightly becoming bigger as she hummed, “Hmm?”

“I asked what you wanted to watch.”

“Oh, I don’t care. You pick.”

Trevor frowned, “What’s wrong? I mean I know what’s wrong but like. What’s wrong?”

“Do you think they still love me?”

“Who?”

“My brothers.”

Trevor thought it was physically impossible for his heart to break anymore. He knew how much y/n adored her brothers, they were her role models, they were the ones who made sure she was at school on time, they were the ones who read books to her when they were little, they were the ones who bugged the ever-loving crap out of her, they were the ones who did everything for her.

He pulled her into a hug before pulling away and cupping her cheeks, “They love you with their whole hearts, y/n. I promise you everything I believe in.”

“Then why does it feel like they do? Like I could die and they wouldn’t care?” Her voice cracked as she spoke, suddenly becoming flustered and finding it harder to breathe.

Trevor couldn’t contain his tears any longer especially as he looked at the look on her face. He pulled her into his arms, practically shoving her head into his chest as he cried with her. Y/n felt his few tears drop down onto her head but didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything as she cried herself to sleep.

They both fell asleep not long after that, Trevor following in her footsteps. Lia had come in to check on them about an hour after and they were still asleep. She walked out of the room and saw a figure in the living room, “How’d you get in here?!”

The figure turned around and Lia mildly calmed down, “Luke?”

Luke gave Lia his ever so charming, but awkward, half grin, “Hi.”

“Okay, this still doesn’t answer my question. How’d you get in here?”

Luke pulled a key out of his coat pocket, “Y/n gave me a copy when she was drunk and I never gave it back.”

Lia audibly “oh’d” at the words and was about to shrug it off until she turned around, “Why are you here?”

His smile crumbled, becoming more awkward, “I wanted to apologize to y/n/n. I know I wasn’t much help on Saturday but I regret it. I regret it so much. She’s my big sister, of course, I love her. And I know how much Trevor makes her happy and I just want her to be happy. There’s nothing, no one, that would change that. She deserves it more than anyone.”

“Really?”

Luke’s eyes moved to find the voice and when they laid upon her figure, his eyes teared up, “More than anything.”

Luke was the one person who was by y/n through it all. The one person who always thought she was right no matter what. He thought that she could do no wrong. Y/n was the one who gave Luke advice on everything, the one who read him bedtime stories even when she barely knew how to read, the one who gave him shit for failing miserably at talking to a girl.

He hugged her, grateful that she gave him the time to actually apologize instead of throwing him out like he thought she, or Trevor, would’ve. After Luke’s surprise visit, the four sat down and ate dinner. As much as y/n tried to hold back from asking the question, it was burning in the back of her mind, “Is Jack still mad?”

Trevor stopped eating, a piece of food shoved into the side of his mouth. He looked up at her but didn't raise his chin. He moved his gaze from his girlfriend to the boy sitting next to her as he waited for his response. Luke himself had been in the middle of drinking when she asked, and he swallowed nervously, “No.”

“No?”

“He’s um been locked in his room all week, I can hear him crying through the walls. I don’t think he’s really eaten anything.”

Y/n frowned, “I should-”

“Nah, let him wallow in self-pity a little more. He rarely ever gets to do it.”

“But if he’s not eating, Luke, that’s a problem.”

That seemed to click into Luke’s brain, “Oh shit.”

Luke fumbled for his phone all of a sudden becoming a more worried younger brother. Y/n watched in anticipation as his phone rang with Jack’s contact splayed across it. She forgot that she stole their phones and created matching contact posters for all of them and she realized that they never changed it. It was the same layout for all of them, a collage of pictures together, some funny and some meaningful. And at the center of each of them was the same picture when they were little. They were at one of the boys’ hockey games and y/n sat in Quinn’s lap with her pigtails in and her custom jersey, one that was definitely way too big for her, with all three of their names on it.

It had been a long day when that picture was taken but you couldn’t tell. All of them were sporting huge grins and everyone was trying to hold y/n up because the three knew that she could and would collapse at any moment. Just after Ellen snapped the picture, she did indeed fall asleep in Quinn’s lap, who then carried her to the car as Jim grabbed his bag (because he refused to give either of his parents his younger sister).

She missed those days, the days when everything was just simple. Where they were just four little kids, where the boys were just three brothers who loved to play hockey, where no one knew about them (well, cared about them), where she could just be a girl with three brothers. She missed the days when they were too young to know about these kinds of emotions.

Jack’s voice brought her out of her memories, he sounded as if he hadn’t spoken in days (which he hadn’t), but also sounded as if he had just got done crying, “What?”

“What are you doing right now?”

“Is this all you called me for? Aren’t you literally in the next room?”

“Yeah about that…”

“He’s with me.”

Jack was caught off guard. He sat up a little straighter, his tears stopped, and he rushed to pull himself together even though no one else was in the same room let alone the same apartment as him. His voice was hesitant as he spoke, “Y/n/n?”

“Hi, Jacky.”

The nickname sent a rush of sadness through him, he missed her and he knew he didn’t deserve to. He had been an ass and that was an understatement. His rage clouded his judgment and he took it out on her and Trevor. At this point, he wasn’t mad anymore, at least at himself. He would never forget the look on her face when he left. He’d seen that look about 5 times in his life and he was never the cause of it.

He knew he shouldn’t have said what he said, he knew he shouldn’t have even gone to London while he was mad. He wanted all of it to be over, to hide away and never see her face again because he didn’t want to face the reality of which he screwed up.

He kept repeating “I’m sorry” over and over again, all four of them listening intently and waiting for it to stop. Lia excused herself and she heard Jack sniffle, she knew this was a family, and Trevor, matter and not so much as a her matter.

When she left, Jack completely broke down. His sobs were loud against their ears, they could hear his breathing pick up, it was scary how much it sounded like y/n when she broke down, “Jack please calm down. You’re going to overwork yourself.”

However, Jack couldn’t. His mind plagued him with the idea that she was mad at him (which she wasn’t, but rather upset), that she was going to yell at him and call him names, and that she was going to stop talking to him forever.

Luke was grateful that he called Quinn before he left. He had made Quinn take a few days off to go see Jack knowing that he was going to be leaving. He didn’t want to leave him alone despite being mad at him for the way he treated their sister, especially when he was like this.

“Jack.”

It was common for y/n to take on the role of an older sister, despite being the second youngest of the family/ There was something that was always comforting about her words and her hugs that made everyone fall in love with her and make it so they opened up to her easily.

“I’m so sorry y/n/n. I love you so much and Trevor and you guys are so good together. I’m sorry I said what I said and I’m sorry I called you that. You’re not. I know you break up with everyone because of us and I hate that. I- I-'' He couldn’t breathe and she knew that. Call it twin telepathy if you please, but to them? It was just a known fact.

“Breathe Jack. It’s okay. We’re not mad at you, I promise.”

“Well…”

Y/n glared at her boyfriend who immediately shut up and sunk back into his chair. Luke stepped in while y/n went to scold Trevor, “Hey Quinn’s going to be there soon, okay? Let him in when he knocks.”

“What- why?”

“Because we’re worried about you, Jack.”

“Why? I deserve it.”

Y/n whipped her head to the phone, “No you don’t. Don’t you ever say that again. I know what you said was out of line, believe me. But you are my brother, okay? And I love you now and forever. Now unless you like to commit mass murder or do something you know is disgusting, that is never going to change.”

They could hear the knocking coming from the other end of the phone. Then they heard Jack shuffling and when he opened the door, they could hear his sobs. They were harsh, violent, and loud. Unbeknownst to the three in London, Jack practically fell into his older brother’s arms when he saw him. Quinn then picked up the fallen phone and said he would call black later, leaving the three in silence.

Trevor looked up at his girlfriend, seeing the worried look plastered on her face. He immediately stood up and wrapped his arm around her shoulder before bringing her into his chest, “He’s okay, baby. I promise.”

Her sniffles were audible but barely. Trevor thought to himself before kissing the side of her head, “Go pack. We’re going to New Jersey.”

He tapped her butt and she looked up at him with wide eyes, “What?”

“Yep, come on. I know you and you won’t stop bugging yourself about it until you see him.”

“Okay.:

Luke looked between the two, “Hey just because I said I was okay with it, doesn’t mean I want to see it.”

Y/n giggled and she wiped her eyes rid of tears, “That’s your problem, I guess.”

✧༺✎༻∞

They were lucky enough to get on the flight quickly. They were supposed to get to New Jersey at 9 Eastern time, so hopefully Jack would be okay by the time they got there. They were practically sprinting through the airport, Trevor dragging his and her suitcases behind him as Luke dragged his own. Y/n in all honestly felt as if they were in the scene from Home Alone except with fewer kids and a little more time.

When they got on the plane, they sat next to each other uncomfortably due to the lack of space, “I can’t believe we’re sitting in these seats.”

Y/n looked at Trevor with a deadpan face, “Dude are you shitting me? We booked these tickets like an hour ago.”

“Did you just dude me?”

“Did you expect anything less from her?”

“No one asked you.”

Y/n looked forward and rolled her eyes before making eye contact with one of the flight attendants, “Men am I right?”

The girl nodded her head and even gave y/n an extra set of earplugs. Trevor and Luke would not stop fighting the whole way to New Jersey it felt like, making little jabs at one another, all while y/n sat in the middle of them and blasting her music up to a “healthy” volume. One time Trevor looked over at her and hit her arm to get her input, “Don’t hit my sister.”

“Would you two actually shut the fuck up?”

The two held their hands up in surrender before slouching down in their seats like they were scolded by their mom. They crossed their arms across their chests and both held pouts, “You guys are children.”

The two didn’t say anything but an older lady came up and looked at the girl, “Thank you.”

Y/n looked up with a small smile on her face, “For what?”

“For shutting these two up.”

“Oh, it’s no problem ma’am.”

“Are you guys siblings?”

Y/n pointed to Luke first, “He is, this one over here is my boyfriend.”

“Well, you two better listen to what she says. Especially you, young man. You might lose her if you don’t.”

Trevor now turned so he was facing the older woman, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She smiled and then walked away back to her seat. Trevor then reached for y/n’s hand and brought it into his lap, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“Ugh.”

✧༺✎༻∞

Eight hours later, the three were back to running through the airport to get to their Uber. Yet, this time it wasn’t as urgent. They were jogging at best, trying to get there quickly but also not wanting to exert more energy than they had to.

They sat in the back of the car all crammed together as they watched out their respective windows. Sometimes Trevor or Luke would nudge y/n and show what they thought was oh so interesting to them. It usually turned out to be a weird-looking tree or a dog, which she couldn’t really complain about.

When the car pulled up to the apartments, y/n thanked the driver before running up the stairs with Luke and Trevor following behind her. She knocked harshly on the door and waited for someone to answer. Quinn opened the door, “What are you guys doing here?”

“Where is he?”

“In his room, he’s sleeping.”

She pushed past him and navigated her way through the apartment and to Jack’s room. When she pressed on the door and opened it slightly, she teared up. His eyes and cheeks were puffy and red, dried tears were covering them. His hair was greasy and messy from the amount of times he had run his fingers through it.

She sat on the edge of the bed and shook him awake carefully, “Jack.”

Jack stirred a little, opening his eyes in a daze. It had been days since he was able to sleep properly. When his eyes adjusted and focused he saw her sitting there, looking just like how she always did when something went wrong. He sat up quickly but scooted back so his back was against the headboard, “What’re you doing here?”

“Making sure you’re okay.”

“Why? I don’t-”

“Don’t say it, please. I understand why you were mad, I’d be mad too.”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have called you a slut.”

She inhaled harshly, “You’re right. You shouldn’t have, but I understand why you did. And I’m not mad at you Jack. Sure, I’m a little hurt, but that hurt will go away with time and be replaced with other memories.”

Jack gave her a look as she stood up, cocking his head to the side. She stared back, “Well are you going to hug me or am I going to have to hug myself?”

He was quick to stand up and hug her, basking in her infamous hugs, “I love you.”

“I love you too, you dork.”

A moment passed and then they pulled away from each other. Y/n was the one to speak, telling him that he was going to have to eat soon. When he protested, she responded, “Come on, Hughes siblings movie night featuring Zegras. And we’ll all eat together.”

“Okay.”

When they walked out of the bedroom, the three were sitting on the couch watching whatever hockey game was on TV.

“No hockey. We’re watching a movie.”

“Don’t say it.”

“We’re watching Descendants”

The boys groaned and she pouted, “Meanies.”

“We love you, but Descendants? Again? How old are you again? 22?”

“Don’t give me that shit, Mr. “Oh there’s nothing else on, let's watch Mighty Ducks for the 100th time.”

Jack looked at her offended, “Hey, Mighty Ducks is a classic. Trevor, help me out here.”

Trevor shook his head violently, “No way dude. I was already scolded for being too loud on the plane.”

“You got scolded?”

“Your sister’s scary!”

Y/n gave the two a look, “Oh I see. ‘I choose her’ my fucking ass.”

“Woah, too soon.”

“Descendants or I’m going back to London.”

The boys groaned out a fine and made room for her on the couch, “Jack what do you want for food?”

The other three let out protests, asking why he got to choose, “Um when was the last time you three ate?”

They sat in silence, “Exactly.”

Halfway into the movie, the food arrived and y/n got up to grab it. When she got back she handed out everyone’s food and listened as they sang Did I Mention? She smiled to herself as she heard them singing, joining in herself, “I gotta know which way to go, come on, give me a sign. You gotta show me that you’re only ever gonna be mine.”

When she sat back down, she sat next to Trevor who continued to sing into her ear as if he had written the song to her. She started blushing and as the song ended he kissed her on the cheek. They stared at each other and then she felt a wrapper hit her head, “Hey!”

“No kissing in my apartment.”

Y/n only stuck her tongue out before continuing to eat her food, comfortably resting under Trevor’s arm.

𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑪𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑬𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑷𝑳𝑨𝒀𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you

#sunny lune writes #trevor zegras #tz11 #trevor zegras x reader #hughes!sister #jh86 #qh43 #lh43 #hughes brothers #hughes brothers x reader #nhl #hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey nhl

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celtic-crossbow · 5 months

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Chapter 8

Warnings: Mentions of past SA, mention of injuries sustained from SA, scars, masturbation, poor mental health all around

You spent the day with Carol, getting a tour of the prison. There were places that were considered safe, cleared of the dead. That included most of the yard, the towers, a few cell blocks, and the area separating the blocks. You were advised never to go into the tombs, especially until you had been trained to defend yourself. From the living and the dead.

You watched her prepare a small, simple lunch of stew with some rabbits that Daryl brought back and prepped for her. The stew would need to be stretched out to cover dinner as well. Carol confided in you that she was hoping Daryl could get a deer on his next outing.

Between meals, laundry had to be done and the fence had to be cleared. Carol opted for laundry. It was something a couple of other women had taken over since the group had grown in number while Carol had moved to the fence. However, she refused to take you close to the walkers without any knowledge of how to defend yourself. You were introduced to the other women but only worked with Carol so that you were less afraid and anxious. Daryl volunteered to take her spot clearing the fence line.

You had seen him several times but he would only interact with Carol, not even sparing you a glance. His dismissal of you made you feel odd, to say the least. He bought you but didn’t want you. On top of that, the women worked alongside the men on normal activities and were treated kindly. The men you had been introduced to were respectful, but you did have Carol always ensuring she positioned herself between you and the strangers. Kids were playing and learning. There was even a baby.

It was a lot for your first full day. By the time dinner was over and you came inside with Carol, you were exhausted.

“Why don’t I show you where the showers are? You can get cleaned up. I’ll bring some soft clothes for you to sleep in and leave them just inside the door.” She suggested, already leading the way. You really didn’t want to give up the clothes Daryl had given you. You found them comforting. It was the first time you had been in something that wasn’t lace or sequins for as long as you could remember.

Still, it would be nice to feel clean. Really clean and comfortable. So, you relented with a nod. “Okay.”

“Look at you. Baby steps are still steps in the right direction.” When she gave your upper arm a squeeze, you actually didn’t flinch.

Carol showed you how the showers were rigged up to the drums of water and advised you not to stay in too long or you’d use it all up. You were terrified of being alone with only the light of a single candle so she promised to come right back after she grabbed clothes for you. You almost asked to go with her instead, but wanted to see that proud smile she had been giving you. So you stayed.

The water was cold but you were used to that. A bath at the club had usually meant you stood perfectly still and silent while a bucket of freezing water was dumped over you. Still, your breath hitched when the first cold spray touched your skin.

Using soap was like heaven. You actually managed to forget your fear of the dark, quiet room in favor of running your hands over your skin to rid the layers of dirt and grime your quick lake bath had left behind. You paid special attention to the area between your legs. The wounds had long ago healed and scarred over but you had never truly felt clean there since Todd’s brother had assaulted you. You had killed the man with his own knife but Jazz’s people got to you anyway.

Carefully, you ran your soapy fingers over the sensitive skin, the scars his knife had left raised and bumpy. Imperfect. Broken. Flawed. You pulled your hand away, staring down the front of your body as the suds disappeared, showing the scars across your breasts and stomach. They weren’t as severe as the ones your back held. But they were there.

Your lip was quivering with tears weighing down your lashes but you managed to get the soap off of your hands and wipe at your eyes before they could fall. The squeaky door opened. You assumed Carol had returned, hopefully remembering you didn’t have a towel. Your shivering only seemed to worsen once the water was shut off so you decided maybe you could intercept her. She was going to see you regardless. There weren’t curtains on the stalls.

Careful not to slip, you trotted out of the stall with your teeth chattering… and slammed straight into Daryl’s chest.

You backed up immediately, shocked gazes meeting briefly before you dropped your head. You didn’t attempt to cover yourself. Men had a right to look at your body, Daryl even more so.

“I’m s-s-s-sorry.” Goosebumps were littering your skin but you didn’t dare move. Maybe he’d finally decided he wanted you, despite what Carol had said. You didn’t even hear him move before his boots stepped right in front of your bare feet. He sighed before wrapping a large towel around your petite frame, holding the front out a little for you to grab.

“Usu’lly need one’a them if yer gonna take a shower.” His voice was low and gravelly in a way that you’d never heard from him. “M’sorry.” Why on earth was he apologizing?

“Th-thank you,” you took a deep breath, “Daryl.” You squeezed your eyes shut and waited for the rage. It never came. Did he really just want you to call him by his name?

“Mhm.”

The door squeaked again, Carol rushing through with an apology on her lips and a towel in her hand. Her soft expression turned stern. “What’re you doing in here, Daryl.”

The archer lifted his hands in a placating gesture, his sleep pants draped over one arm. “Easy, woman. Was jus’ gonna grab a shower n’ this’un didn’ have a towel. Gave ‘er mine.”

Her face said that she believed him but she leaned to check on you anyway. You gave a tight smile and nodded. “I’m okay.” You all but whispered, scurrying past him and toward the woman you were learning to trust more and more.

“Here.” She tossed him the towel she’d brought for you. “Take your shower. And learn to knock.”

“More than one stall in here. Shouldn’ hafta knock.” She had an arm around your shoulder when she shot him a look, resulting in his hands coming up in that same gesture once again. “I’ll knock. Jesus.”

“Good.” She smiled at him sweetly and he gave her a middle finger as she steered you through the doorway, pressing the clothes into your torso as you walked. “I’m so sorry, honey. I took a few minutes to set up the top bunk for you. I didn’t know he’d be showering this late. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded quickly. He hadn’t even tried to hurt you, which still boggled you. Little by little, you were beginning to believe what she was telling you; that you were indeed safe. Still, your guard was up and the fear lingered. The learned behaviors were not letting go so easily.

Once you were in the cell, Carol turned away from you to allow you to get dressed. The clothes she brought you were warm and comfortable. They were a little big but fit well enough. You climbed onto the top bunk before she spun back around. She was already dressed in a loose shirt and sweats, her feet bare.

“You feel safe enough to get some sleep?”

Pulling the thin blanket up to your shoulders, you laid on your side. The mattress was thin but it was more comfortable than anywhere you had been allowed to sleep in a long time. “I think so. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. Just try to rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” She said from the bunk below you.

“Okay.” Once the candle had been blown out and shadows swept into the room, you pulled the blanket up further, covering everything up to your eyes. Fear was building up in your chest, your gaze on the blanket over the cell door, watching it as if someone would tear through it at any given moment.

You realized your eyelids were growing heavy only seconds before they closed and you fell into a deep sleep.

The image of you standing bare in front of him was etched into his mind. He found himself extremely grateful for the cold water dousing his heated skin. He shouldn’t think of you like that. It was wrong. You had been objectified for god knows how long. He had no right to entertain the scenarios running through his brain.

He knew it wasn’t attraction that made you look at him the way you did. It was obligation. It was fear. He certainly wouldn’t mind if it was something you truly wanted. He’d let you wrap those pouty lips around him, fucking your mouth and wiping the tears from the corners eyes as you gagged on him. He would return the favor, of course. He wondered what you tasted like. He would make you cum on his tongue first, then bury himself inside you to the hilt. What sounds would you offer to him? Would your thighs shake against his hips as you came again?

“Fuck.” Daryl forced out through gritted teeth. He punched the hard wall in front of him, leaving his fist there to rest his head against it. He was a real piece of work to imagine fucking you when you’d spent so long being raped over and over just to survive. A real fucking prick.

The cold water was doing little to calm him now. His cock had stirred to life, now painfully hard. With a growl, he took himself in hand but didn’t move. He wasn’t sure what to think about when all he wanted now was you. If it wasn’t the end of the world, he’d still have his brother and Merle would have porn in one form or another. Then again, if it wasn’t the end of the world, he’d probably never have met you and this wouldn’t currently be an issue.

This wasn’t something he normally did. Daryl wasn’t an overly sexual being. He had jerked off twice since the turn and it had been out of boredom more than anything else. He had to handle this. He couldn’t exactly stroll out of the showers with a raging erection in his sleep pants. God knows how long it would take to go away on its own, especially with the intrusive images of you playing in his head.

The first stroke forced a hiss from between his teeth, but he pressed on and quickly fell into a rhythm. He tried to imagine girls Merle had brought home before but they always morphed into you. After a few very frustrating minutes, he gave in and let his imagination run rampant.

He fucked into you hard while you whimpered around the fingers he was pressing down on your tongue. When you took him like a good girl, he slid down your body and devoured your pussy as a reward. The little mewls and moans he imagined you’d give to him were quickly stoking the fire at the base of his spine. When he pictured you riding him, his hands squeezing your hips as you begged for him to cum, he was undone.

Daryl came with a muted shout, biting his fist to keep himself grounded through each wave. Panting, he turned and placed his back against the wall, tiredly watching his spend mix with the cold water and disappear down the drain.

Disgusted by what he had just done, he rushed through the actual bathing and shut off the water. He truly wanted nothing more than to disappear into the woods for a few days. At least until the very thought of you didn’t make him feel like he should apologize.

“Goddamnit.” His voice was a mere whisper. Grabbing his discarded clothing, he just pressed his palm down onto the candle to extinguish the flame. The sharp pain from the burn was easy to ignore. He deserved worse.

How did he let it get to this point? He truly was an asshole.

Taglist:

@royaltysuite @thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @deansapplepie @feral4daryl @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @1ivinqdeadqir1main @loganlostitall @callmeyn

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dreamii-krybaby · 6 months

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Theory on Nori’s actual personality

Ok but what if it’s revealed that Nori isn’t necessarily malicious or evil or satan’s spawn, like specifically during her time at the labs and camps.

Like yes I know she seems to be enjoying herself after the core collapse thanks to the pictures in EP4 and at the interview shown in EP6 despite Alice going berserk and smashing her own head and Yeva hurting and terrified. Not only her body language but also the fact she is resting her arm on one of the sentinels as if they were mere pets gives her almost disney villian vibes

Because to me she could be somewhat similar to N. She is a beacon of positivy, it may be simply her personality or a developed coping mechanism

It could be that her chill and cool vibes are astonishing. So it’s not that she doesn’t care or anything, she simply isn’t aware of the gravity of the situation or takes things easy.

Plus the fact that the goddam sentinels are so chill around her that even one of them lets Nori put her arm on top of them can maybe be seen as the sentinels not perceiving Nori as a threat, and more as a companion, maybe even as a friend.

Her EP6 appearance may be a red herring or is purposely made so we draw the wrong conclusion.

Bc most of her bad actions where when she was under the influence of the AS:

- Like before the core collapse happened we clearly saw in EP6 that Nori was fully possessed bc of her yellow eyes. And we in the footage you can see drones or even human limbs scattered around her, so all of that was when she was possessed.

- after the core collapse she shows to be quite friendly, it could be that she doesn’t remember a lot after her possession. Unlike Yeva who probably was still processing everything.

Tho tbh I can cut her some slack if she indeed was happy after the humans perished after the core collapse. Since you know, she was experimented and probably witnessed a lot of fucked up shit.

- When Alice mentioned that she left them to die, she also later added she had yellow eyes, again, Nori was possessed at that time. Alice probably didn’t know that the one who probably left them to die was the AS, not Nori

- Now this more of an assumption, but the fact that in Nori’s closet Khan kept boxes and boxes of “happy family memories” it probably meant their relationship was pretty good.

- And things only went south when Nori started to get visions(?). Also she constantly told Khan to build doors against the coming sky demons. Clearly she was trying to protect herself, Uzi and Khan, and probably the rest of the colony (which also included Yeva, which would go against the interpretation that Nori didn’t care much for Yeva). Also remember, it was Khan who wasn’t there for Nori, she needed him, she tried to warn him.

-Its also worth mentioning that Yeva might have not been harmed by Nori during the interview shown at EP6. Bc first there is no sharp object that could potentially be used against Yeva. (Wait now that I think about it, there is a JCJenson pen, and if u remember the pilot, that pen could have actually been used to cause Yeva’s injury but it seems to be lacking oil stains)

And its a higher possibility that Alice could have done it, as it seems she has gone berserk and drew with her own oil on the walls and is clawing at the wall, and maybeee she also used Yeva’s oil to draw.

Also Nori couldn’t have used the AS directly on Yeva due to both having the AS. And a interpretation made by @capnsaltsquid said that Yeva’s eye got damaged by the AS itself, it fucking blew up, due to her body not being very “compatible” with the AS. (Yeva my poor gal :( )

Again I think it all depends on interpretation.

Now does this mean she is a pure holy saint? No. Murder Drones is a show where most ppl aren’t really a saint. Yes..probably not even my gal Yeva. But Nori could be that at the end she wasn’t evil or smth. She could have a similar situation to Cyn.

Now personally would enjoy if she actually started off as antagonist or even villian when she got the AS at the labs and had to unfortunately learn the hard way about the dangers of the AS later. Wouldn’t mind at all if she occasionally showed moments of villainy.

And me being me, how about devil’s advocate?

Maybe she was indeed a son of a bitch at her time at the labs maybe she was happy after the destruction she caused after the core collapse.

What if Nori actually planned to get possessed? What if the AS offered her freedom by getting rid of the humans. Bc the AS drawing below her shown on the EP6 footage surrounded by body remains gives me “summoning the local Eldritch god inside of my body to do silly stuff” vibes

For all we know the AS could have given her a sense of control, power, and superiority and for a lab rat surrounded by robo-raptors and other, more aggressive lab rats, that must have felt amazing.

Also it would be nice to have a villian who fully embraces the AS, even for only a period of time.

Before you say we have Doll, I don’t think so, well partially:

-She immediately feels sorry for Uzi upon learning she also has the AS, and she promised her to help her once she finds what she is looking for.

-She also calls the AS a “sickness” via Tessa’s comment on EP6.

-A lot of ppl and myself included infer that what Doll is looking for is a cure for the AS

-Even if she uses the AS a lot more than Uzi I think Doll is simply taking advantage of it while she has it, its the only ready available tool she has. But I don’t think she necessarily likes having it. Plus Doll has more control over her body over the AS unlike Uzi.

So I would love for Nori at the beginning to embrace the AS, that loves it. Sees it as a blessing rather than a sickness. That feels a rush of control when using it.

Or we could go the more, chill route, she uses it more due to carelessness and ignorance.

And perhaps for her later go “Well maybe I don’t want this thing anymore”

But realistically from what I gathered, I see her someone who is chill, open, easy going, sociable and perhaps, careless.

Tho am begging on my knees for her to be a morally grey sassy lady.

#murder drones #murder drones nori #nori murder drones #nori doorman murder drones #murder drones nori doorman #nori doorman #murder drones theory

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teyamsatan · 7 months

Text

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ᴠ - ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ

pairing: neteyam x avatar!reader (part of the cardigan saga)

➽ a/n: it's neteyam and atan's world, and we're just living in it! hi besties and welcome to day 5, aka the day that almost killed me bc writing daddy!neteyam is actually much harder to me than i thought it could be. but i wanted so much to give this day to them, since they are my forever favourite pair from my forever favourite work of mine.

you don't have to have read cardigan for this to make sense, although it helps. i hope you enjoy, i've seen a lot of you besties reading cardigan recently and it's nice to know you wouldn't have had to wait as long for this prompt as my og readers, who i've promised this to for far too long hahahhaa my bad.

finally, this will continue in another (or two) kinktober prompts, so enjoyyy ;) x

➽ words: 1.7k words

➽ warnings: it goes without saying, but all of these works (kinktober-related) are smut and therefore minors should NOT interact with them. other warnings include: anal fingering, p in v, pet names, hair pulling.

➽ taglist (x) ➽ kinktober masterlist (x)

➽ na'vi compendium: atan - light, ma 'itan - son, kalin - sweet to the taste

“Come on, ma ‘itan. You have to let go of him at some point, you know?” Letting go of your son was harder on Neteyam than either of you ever envisioned. Well, not really. In truth, he’s always been a born father - loving, caring and attentive, he has been the unofficial parent of three kids ever since he reached puberty, and yet, it’s never made him bitter or deterred. On the contrary, it seemed that the birth of your son, the sweet Kalin, only made him more enthusiastic to put everything he’s learnt about parenthood to good use with his own family. Still, there were times, like right now, where you wanted to remember what it was like to be alone with your mate, the love of your life, the man who you’ve gone trough hell and back with. Solitude was a scarce resource right now, with a babe barely over a year old, but you were lucky to have a village full of people who were more than ready and willing to help babysit, and some who were more excited about it than others - like Neytiri.

“I’ve wanted to have this little one all to myself for so long, we’re going to have so much fun!” Her little coos were adorable and once more you couldn’t help be forever grateful for the person who’s been a mum to you for years now, who loved you and has done so ever since you were born. Although so different, you couldn’t help see your own mother in her, and you were reminded to pay her and your dad a visit at the Tree of Souls. It’s been a while.

But for now…

“We won’t be too long. Thank you for doing this, sa’nok.”

“We might be… a little long. Isn’t that so, Atan?”

You chuckled at the quiet desperation in his voice, and, with a roll of your eyes, you clicked in the direction of the tent’s entrance, wordlessly willing him out. This was going to be fun…

It was still risky, coming to the places that used to mean so much to you once, that you had to forsake when you moved to the Metkayina, that you got back once more once you returned home, but you couldn’t help yourselves. Not when these places, this place, in particular, has been one where so many memories, all shared between you two, were made, not when it still brings goosebumps on the surface of your skin, the thought of all you’ve lived through here, from learning how to swim and climb to conceiving your little bundle of joy that was safely back home. You never realised how much being a mother would mean to you - although it was always clear how much being a father meant to Neteyam. You’ve loved him all your life, but somehow never more than when taking care of your son, then when he showered you in love and affection, when he acted like the dad and partner you always knew he would be.

“I miss this place so much every time we don’t visit for a few days. It’s like after all these years, and all these memories… it’s part of me. It always will be. And even now, I feel like a teenager, obsessed with you, desperate to look into your eyes, excited beyond belief at every glance or touch you send my way.”

You couldn’t believe how even despite knowing each other since birth, being there for each other every day of your lives, your heart still galloped in your chest any time he spoke, and he still had so much power over you, power to take your breath away with words… and actions.

“Whatever you say… daddy.”

Neteyam turned around almost robotically, alert and frantic as he struggled to make eye contact with you in the least amount of time possible. You chucked at his demeanour, almost predatory, tail perked and unmoving, eyes wide and pupils even more so, swallowing the beautiful yellow of his irises whole.

“What did you just call me?”

You smirked and curved an eyebrow in his direction, enjoying the tingly feel that came with doing so, the goosebumps peppered on your skin after being conditioned to expect him to react to it, to unleash on you demons and urges that only you could swallow, only you could help quench.

“Fuck.” A second later he was by you, and even after a few years in this body, his reflexes still amazed you, still took you by surprise. You gulped at the intensity in his gaze, a gulp that got stuck in your throat as soon as his fingers found your neck, as soon as they wrapped around it and squeezed in just the right way so you felt euphoric, so it felt like the beginning to a night to remember.

“Atan, you have no idea what you started. But I’ll show you. Let daddy show you.”

His sultry words made your legs clench together, a desperate if futile attempt to cease the dew gathering in your beaded loincloth and seeping past the fabric onto the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“Turn around.”

It never took any effort on your part to wholly and relentlessly obey your mate. He loved control and for him, only him, you loved to give it up - you loved it when he manhandled you, his strong, muscular physique perfect for such a task, made to do exactly what he was doing now, spinning you in place and pushing you gently, but forcefully by your shoulder and lower back until you were on the ground, kneeling and waiting.

“I’m gonna need this perfect little body on all fours, Atan.”

The ground felt moist and tender beneath your hands and knees, and you were so aware of every move, every breath, every fleeting touch of his nimble fingers on your body, slowly making his way from your neck, down your spine until he reached your hips, that he gripped with both his large hands, before giving a praising, appreciative murmur at the sight before him.

“So, so beautiful. Look at you, spread open for me, making a mess before I even touched you. Daddy’s little slut.”

You nearly snickered at how quickly he adopted and adapted to the nickname, how natural it was, rolling off his tongue, how somehow, every time he said it, you got impossibly wetter, almost panting with the desire to be filled up with his cock, with his cum. You moaned softly when you heard him spit into his hands, and could only imagine the mouthwatering sight unfolding before you as he pumped himself, before plunging into the depths of the desire that would overcome you both. When he guided his rock-hard erection to the plush of your ass, gliding it effortlessly in between your asscheeks, over and over, all you wanted to do was scream for more. It felt wondrous and dirty, and you wanted it all, wanted him everywhere, all at once, all the time. Like the mindreader he always was, he spoke before you had a chance to voice your unrealistic feverous dreams.

“Let’s start with two fingers and work our way up, how’s that sound?” You appreciated him for his thoughtfulness always, but especially now, always ready and dutiful in making sure you were prepared, that your body was capable of taking him, of taking it the way he ended up wanting to give it to you.

“Words, Atan.”

“Sounds go-good. So good.”

“That’s right.”

He was taunting you now, slapping the tip of his cock on your clit, dragging it against your folds before sliding into you with ease, while plunging two fingers into your puckered hole.

“Fu-uck! Fuck! Argh!”

The feeling was beyond comprehension, beyond your wildest fantasies. It was always this good, always this mind-blowing and yet, you have never gotten used to it, never gotten used to the amalgamation of sensations and how they’d all accumulate to a night of orgasm after orgasm, until you were passed out on his cock, too tired to even mutter a tired I love you.

His hand was soft as it trailed up your body until it reached your braided hair, that he took into his fisted hand. When he tugged on it, as he slammed back into you, you cried out, moaning garbled attempts at his name. Your head pulled backwards as he used your hair to establish a brutal, ruthless pace of both his hips and fingers, and soon enough, you could feel your first orgasm as it approached, thunderous and violent and ready to take over you.

“I can’t wait to be a dad again, I can’t wait to see your swollen belly and know you have made me the happiest man in the world every day of my life so far and will continue to do so 'til the day I die. I can’t wait to hold your hand when you bring our baby girl into the world.”

“But not tonight, Atan. Tonight, I want to ruin you. I need to ruin you. I need to watch my cum drip out of your every perfect little hole. Do you understand?”

A meek nod is all you managed, the sensation too overwhelming to allow for any coherent, cohesive expression, the cried-out iteration of “yes, daddy. Yes, fuck, y-yes!” only audible in your head as you screamed it with all your internalised might.

“Good girl. Come for daddy. I want to hear you, Atan.”

His words were enough to push you over the edge, and you came, vision blinded by the high, mind numbed by the way every nerve in your body felt electrified, alight with the pleasure that didn’t seem to want to cease, not even as you squirted on his cock as he continued to pump into you, the overstimulation enough to make tears fall down your cheeks and onto the ground.

You didn’t have time to catch your breath, no time to gather any thoughts before he leaned onto your back, whispering seductively in your ear.

“Ready for round two? You didn’t think I was done with you yet, huh?”

taglist: @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @blue-slxt @eywaeveng @neteyamsikran @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @itsjazzsworld @daddysmurfslefttoenail @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @hadesbabygurl @linydoll @the-mourning-moon

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rraizel · 3 months

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Void- yang jeongin

words: 2,516 pairing: yang jeongin x gn reader genre: a little angst, fluff, idol!jeongin, idol!jeongin kinda having a hard time being away from reader:(

Yang Jeongin is not an easy crier. But it's already the 26th day of touring and that meant that was also the amount of days since he had last seen you and he felt that burning sensation inside his eyeballs causing them to pool with salt water which he quickly blinks away. The bustling backstage keeps moving after they closed their show for the night but it's like he came to an abrupt halt, like he wasn't just on stage not more than 15 minutes ago, doing what he does best, making sure their fans remember this night for the rest of their life. On a stark contrast, at the moment he finds himself staring blankly at the ceiling while sat on the leather couch after taking their group pictures for the night. It's almost like he's trying to focus on the nothingness of the ceiling to keep himself from feeling the unfathomable void in his heart.

The void of your absence.

Even though you make sure to call and text him at any given moment and he did the same, that simply did not suffice. Jeongin was not a big fan of any form of physical expression of affection. But oh, was he a completely different person, just for you. He can't take his hands off of you whenever you're around. His long slender fingers would either be holding yours, splayed over your waist, your thighs, your neck or maybe some other parts where he wants to touch you the most. It's to the extent that sometimes he doesn't know what to do with himself, his hands when you're not around. It took a lot of getting used to considering his job and both of your situations. But even so, sometimes when his brain comes down from the high, from the chase and rush of being on stage he almost hallucinates your presence. All he longs for after a busy schedule of concerts and shows on a foreign land, is your warm embrace waiting for him to fall into them. He wants the familiarity of your warmth under the palms of his hands and he wants your scent all over him, smothering him.

And this, right now, was just one of those times. The neurons in his brain couldn't not gravitate towards the thought of you. He had a good day, he really did. Tomorrow is a day off and it was also his 23rd birthday. STAYs had wished him an early happy birthday on their concert today and of course his heart swelled up with joy. However this is also why he misses you so earth shatteringly at the moment. He just wants to have you close and tell you how good of a day it was and not through the confinements of the borders of his phone screen.

His members know he isn't feeling his very best, for obvious reasons. They try to include him in conversations, over the dinner but he doesn't cooperate much, smiling occasionally and mostly deadpanning his words. Although, there's also something that the members are aware of but he isn't. Which is why, they are not too worried when Jeongin finishes early and leaves for his room not spending more time with the others.

He strolls through the corridor, making his way to his hotel room, with his phone in his hand as he shoots you a text;

"just got done with dinner with the hyungs what you upto?" "oh im thinking of ordering smth. did you eat well babe?"

"yeah i did. im kinda tired. facetime before sleep?"

"sure love. but um you dont wanna stay up till 12?"

Jeongin looks at the top of his screen as he taps his room key on the censor, 10:47 p.m. He exhales deeply as he enters. "guess not, what's there to wait for anyway. today was good but tiring as well, i'll hit the bed."

He sounds so particularly unenthusiastic it breaks your heart. But unbeknownst to him,

you are on a cab, on your way from the airport to the hotel he's currently in.

You couldn't help it. This is the first time the schedule was timed this way. But you couldn't miss his birthday, you knew you had to be there. And above all you wanted to be there. So here you are, in a cab in Tokyo, arriving mere minutes before your lover's birthday because you can't bear to be apart any longer and not be close to him on the day he turns 23. You cannot wait to jump into his arms and hold onto him until you both can't breathe. And even though you can feel his sadness through his texts, you have to hold yourself back from spilling the surprise in processing. And so you type him a reply; "hm i get it, you should rest, i'll just have my dinner and we'll ft before sleep, okay?" "yep okay, eat well babe."

Jeongin tosses his phone on the bed and makes his way to the bathroom. He takes off all his makeup, brushes his teeth, flosses them and continues following his usual skincare routine. The slump of his shoulders is sign enough to know how tedious all of it feels to him. He has never been this uninterested about his own birthday before. In fact, he can't care less what day it is, all he yearns for right now is you. The sight of you, the sound of your laughter, the way his name descends from your mouth so lovingly each time you say it, the hues of your irises and the way they look like they hold a few thousand milky ways inside them.

The exhaustion didn't help his situation but he was denying himself of the feeling of it all, he knew he couldn't get too sentimental over things like this, considering his line of work and how considerate and understanding you've been with him through it all. You're in it too. And Jeongin takes it as his responsibility to push through and learn to brush it off even on days like this for the sake of the two of you.

He changes into his pajamas and carries his fatigued and emotionally burdened body to bed and pulls the covers upon himself. His phone screen lights up in his hands and his eyes skim over the 11:20 p.m. display as he decides to text you; "hey im back."

"hey hun, i just did the dishes, lemme change up and wash up, i'll call you, is that cool?"

"hm yeah, i'll wait."

"innie babe is there something wrong? you seem a little down, you can tell me about it."

Jeongin chews his bottom lip, reading that text. He doesn't want to worry you, or think it's too serious so he settles his brain on telling you it's just work and that he misses you, which is the truth, but doesn't begin to cover the depth of it.

"it's nothing really, im really tired and i wish you were here. i just miss you."

"i understand love, it's okay, yeah? just 3 more days, let's both try to be patient. i'm here for you, if you wanna let it out yk that right?"

Jeongin's emotional barrier is standing on its last leg right now. He wants to cry and tell you how much he hates this, hates being apart, how he'd give everything just to be near you right now. But he can't. He can't let you feel that helpless in a situation where it truly can't be helped. It's no one's fault and he sure as hell didn't want you to feel an ounce of unwarranted guilt. It won't be fair to either of you. And so he replies;

"yeah i know, thanks for being here, i love you."

"i love you too innie, im calling you in a bit okay? brb"

You let out a heavy sigh as you set your bags down in Chan's room. You would've booked a room for yourself but you knew Jeongin wouldn't agree on that, so you decided to sit around in Chan's for the next few minutes. "He's really not feeling it today, he's gonna be so happy that you're here." Chan smiles as he passes you a can of soda from his mini fridge. "Yeah I really hope so. It's been really hard for me too, I had to be here for his birthday, you know. Thanks a bunch for cooperating right now, I hope management didn't give any of you much trouble." you open the can and take a swig. He shakes his head and clicks his tongue, "Eh don't worry about that, they know it's for the best of him, if he isn't feeling the best, he can't focus on the performance. And plus everything is fair in love and war right? So rules schmules for this one." You can't help your laughter at that.

A knock on the door interrupts your laughter causing you to go complete silent and shoot a wide eyed look towards Chan. He walks up to the door before half yelling, "What is it?". To which you hear a muffled "Are they here yet? Are we really not having a mini celebration?" from where you're sitting. Chan hastily opens the door, alarmed by the volume of the person's voice and you're met with a fresh faced, ready for bed Jisung, "Jesus, don't yell in the corridors he'll hear you." Chan sneers at him. "Oh shit, sorry bro. Oh hey Y/N! Long time no see, how's your little surprise in the making going?" he beams. You smile and shrug, "Nothing much really, just gonna show up and hope he likes it." His eyebrows rise in response, "Like it? Trust me, that's all the kid needs today, he's gonna be in tears, I tell you. But are we sure we don't want a mini surprise with a cake and all that?" his pupils shift towards Chan and then you, ''Let's save it for tomorrow, Ji. We wouldn't wanna intrude the lovebirds' reunion." Chan teases. "Ooh yeah you're right, it's their little movie moment." Jisung adds before almost breaking out into a song but getting shushed by Chan like he foresaw it. "Guys it's time." you assert, grabbing the boys' attention. You didn't even notice where all the time went and you start panicking because Jeongin was waiting for you. 11:54 p.m. You take a deep breath and try to loosen up all the tension around your shoulders, "You got this." Jisung reassures you as you type a text and send;

"heyy sorry im late, the neighbour couldn't find her cat, so i had to help her look for it and stuff im back tho"

"its fine, i got kinda worried about whats taking you so long."

You make your way out of Chan's room, your suitcase in one hand, your phone in the other. And you text him as you make your way to his door;

"so, facetime?"

"mhm yeah." And so you do, you press the video call button and watch as it rings, while you take quiet steps towards his hotel room. It rings thrice and he picks up. His face shows up on your screen and you almost break out in sobs at the sight, considering you're seconds away from seeing him up close and not through your screen. "Hey...wait where are you? You aren't in bed? Where are you going?" he asks, confusion laced on his expression and voice as he nearly shoots up from his bed. "Oh um... I decided that I can't stay home and go to sleep tonight. I have to be somewhere so... I decided I'll do exactly that and yeah, I'm outside." you're tearing up but you try not to let it show as your cheeks hurt, trying to suppress the smile that's trying to escape. "Y/N, what do you mean? where are you? This is not making any sense, it's really late at night, you shouldn't be anywhere outside now." he's concerned now, he looks like he's about to get on the next flight to Korea to make sure you're okay, but little does he know, he doesn't have to. "Innie, relax. Let me explain." you say as you take the last step before you're standing directly infront of his door. You take a long deep breath, trying to help your heart that's way beyond helping at this point.

"Open the door, Innie."

He stops breathing for a second as his pupils look like they'll burst out of his skull. He can swear he heard that sentence from two different directions, his phone and right outside his door. He has never moved as fast as he does in the next second, almost propelling himself out of the bed, pushing the covers off as he reaches for the doorknob like he'll catch on fire if he doesn't.

The door flies open in front of your eyes revealing his bewildered features a nanosecond before they crumple like a piece of paper into an emotional coalescence. "Happy Birthday, Jeonginnie." Yang Jeongin is not an easy crier. But nothing could've prepared him for the sight of you in flesh and blood standing at his door step on a different country at exactly 12:01 a.m. on his birthday. His knees buckle as his lips quiver for the right words but they come out as bead sized spheroids of salty water from his eyes, dribbling down his face, glistening under the dimly lit corridor. You practically throw yourself at him, latching onto him, wrapping your arms around his torso as he struggles to keep standing. "I missed you so much, happy birthday baby. I love you." you weep on his shoulder. He still hasn't spoken a single coherent word to you. He doesn't need to, at the moment. You're here. And this is not a dream, that's all his brain can manage right now.

So he holds you in his two arms, squeezing you so tight yet so tender to his chest. It's like he can't fit enough of you in his arms and yet he needs to be gentle as though you're made of glass. And he just cries like a child. He lets it all out and fall out of his opaque orbs onto the crook of your neck along with your clothes causing them to drench in salty water. You place a chaste kiss on his shoulder, running your hands through his silky raven locks. He gently pulls away, letting you see his tear soaked red face as he envelopes yours in his large hands. His eyes soften before fluttering shut as his lips melt into yours, fitting like two pieces of a puzzle that were never meant to be detached, his mouth caresses yours like he's trying to memorize the taste, intricately, patiently. His lips slow down before coming at a complete halt on yours, just resting there briefly before managing to pull away, still staying mere millimetres away from yours.

"You're here." he breathes. "Your heart called." you smile.

A/N: so this is a little jeongin drabble that i've been thinking of since his birthday's coming up. it's a little longer than intended, but i just had to. i hope ya'll enjoy regardless tho:>

#stray kids #stray kids fluff #skz #stray kids angst #yang jeongin #jeongin #i.n skz #i.n #jeongin fluff #yang jeongin fluff #jeongin angst #Spotify

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ughgoaway · 9 months

Text

I need you like a heartbeat

content warnings: mentions of sex... that's kinda it the rest is just very soppy lovey-dovey stuff!! word count- 1.9k

a/n: hi!! so I kinda lied about doing under 1000 words but once I got going I couldn't stop lol. I did write this quick so if it's really bad don't tell me (please do I cannot cope not knowing). This was inspired by this request for some fluffy aftercare, thanks for the request!! this is my first time writing fluff so be gentle with me... I'm not good at being in love (haven't done it irl yet) so we'll see how it goes. also would just like to reiterate I am English but I did use braid instead of plait because I have beef with the spelling of plait, I think it's stupid so refuse to type it. also, I was gonna include a full skincare scene but alas I don't do any so had no idea what to write... anyway here you go!!

Thump. Thump. Thump. All you can hear is your heartbeat in your head, the repetitive rhythm being the only thing keeping you grounded. Without it, you fear you would just float away. You fear your weightlessness would simply cause you to disappear from the earth as you know it.

Soon a pair of hands come up to wipe your tear-stained face, you instinctively lean into the touch despite not quite remembering who it is. “Baby? Darling, you with me?”

Matty.

The calloused hands delicately wiping your face belong to your boyfriend and his touch makes the fog in your mind begin to lift. As it always does when you're around him. 2 years in and still you've never met someone you feel so clear around. That may seem unusual to some people, they all say “isn't the love of your life meant to make you a bit hazy? Make your head swirl and your mind go blank?” But no, not to you. You've never felt anything but clear around him, just so completely yourself it almost hurts. There was never any fogginess in your mind, there was nothing but a clear choice. Him. It was as if there was a spotlight on him wherever you were, he was in plain sight. The first thing you saw no matter what.

Slowly your eyes blink open and you're met with the sight of your very naked boyfriend hovering over you giving you a warm smile, “there's my sweet girl” he says staring adoringly at you. The smile was quickly mirrored by you followed by a small giggle. Despite having seen him naked 1000 times, suddenly this time was very funny.

“What are you giggling at, hmm?” Matty says, despite lightly giggling himself, he always found your laughter so contagious. Your joy always lit up every room you were in. The pure happiness that surrounded you was so contagious it couldn't help but rub off on him. So for the first time in his 34 years of life, Matty would describe himself as giddy, not just from your giddiness infecting him but from just you in general. The love he felt for you made him feel 15 again like he was crushing on a girl way out of his league. Becoming slowly obsessed with seeing her around school. But with you, that feeling never went away, that slight obsession was ever permanent. And he loved it. He was nothing but absolutely, unbelievably obsessed with you. And he told you as such, over and over again.

“You’re naked” you manage to splutter out in your fit of giggles, Matty felt his heart flutter at the sight of you. Naked also, tears of dark mascara staining your cheeks and dozens of hickeys and bites blooming on your body but also giggling with no care in the world.

“Hate to be the one to tell you this sweetheart, but you're naked too. Don't tell me you forgot about my amazing lovemaking skills so quickly” Matty says, acting offended at your forgetfulness.

“One,” you begin, acting mock serious at the man on top of you “Never call it lovemaking again or it will start happening substantially less” Matty laughs at you and begins pressing small kisses over the expanse of your face. “Two” you try and list off your second point but soon get lost in another fit of giggles at the myriad of kisses being littered over your face.

“I'll never get my second point out if you keep kissing me” you manage to stutter out, trying to speak but being accosted with pecks.

“Fine, fine, sorry baby- go on,” Matty says leaning back slightly and looking back at you fondly, loving how you can go from moaning his name and crying from pleasure to giggling at your naked boyfriend.

“Thank you,” you fake clear your throat to assure your boyfriend this was a serious matter, “Two- I could never forget, I just suddenly found it funny you were naked.” You finish your statement and look up at your boyfriend.

His hair was sweaty and sticking up in 50 directions, a pink flush decorated his cheeks and his pupils were blown so wide if you didn't know better, you'd think he had black iris’. He’d never looked more beautiful to you. Well, aside from the 50 other times you had assured yourself he never looked more beautiful.

You attempt to sit up to return the onslaught of kisses but you hiss as you're soon reminded of what you were just doing. Everything hurts, in the best way, of course, your arms feel like jelly and you can faintly feel his cum leaking out of you.

As quickly as you try to sit up you are ushered back down by Matty, “No, no don't get up sweetheart. I’m going to go get a warm cloth from the bathroom and clean you up a little yeah?”

You nod lightly, closing your eyes and resting on the silk pillowcases behind you. You are almost lulled back to sleep at the noises of your boyfriend moving around the room but a hiss soon left your mouth as Matty begins wiping you delicately.

The various marks on your thigh burn as Matty wipes your wetness off them, he apologises over and over. Only getting more insistent as he begins to wipe at your core. He starts at the top, lightly patting your clit and hushing your whimpers, hating he was hurting you.

But soon the feeling of him cleaning stopped, you looked down only to catch your boyfriend staring longingly at the sight of his cum leaving you. For the third time tonight, giggles leave you as you stare at the blank expression on his face

“Oops sorry darling, got a bit distracted there but I'm back to business now I swear” Matty assures you before cautiously swiping at your hole and cleaning up the mess he made. The cloth was tossed aside as Matty worked his way back up your body to your face, smiling at your blissed-out look.

“You feel well enough to walk yet baby? We really need to get that makeup off and do your skincare. You’d kill me if I let you go one night without rubbing some oil or serum on your face.”

You smile and nod at your boyfriend, preparing to walk only to be scooped up in his arms and carried into the bathroom. The cold tile of the vanity soon hit your bum causing another hiss to leave your bitten lips, red and puffy from the nights events.

“What was the point in being able to walk if you were just gonna carry me huh handsome?” you say staring at your boyfriend while he grabs the makeup wipes and begins wiping your tear-stained cheeks.

“Always gotta give you the princess treatment baby, just wanted to make sure if you had to walk you could. But I would never make my girl walk all the way to the bathroom! What kinda boyfriend would I be huh” he says jokingly. He's so intensely focused on finding your numerous skincare products he doesn't notice the massive smile that takes over your face.

Matty has about 20 bottles in his hands, each one causing the confused frown on his face to grow. You stifle your laugh at his clear confusion and grab the various products from him and place them by the sink next to you.

“Don't worry about all that tonight baby, just some moisturiser I think. I'm too knackered for much else” You notice Matty let out a relieved breath at your shortened routine, not quite sure what he would do if you wanted to do the full thing.

He grabs the small tub nestled between the mess of products on the counter and begins rubbing it in small circles on your cheeks and forehead. You almost catch your eyes closing at the feeling of him massaging your face but force yourself to keep them open to look longingly at your boyfriend's very focused face, tongue out and all.

“You wanna have a bath darling or should I just braid your hair and we call it a night?” Matty says, still rubbing your face despite all the moisturiser being applied. He just loved touching you, anyway he could. Not necessarily sexually, as much as he enjoyed that. But just loving small touches, a kiss on the cheek when he walked past, a hand on the small of your back when you stood together, even just your pinky fingers linked together as you spoke around a dinner table. Little affectionate touches kept Matty going and he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to touch your very pretty face.

“Just some braids would be amazing, thank you my love” You smile at your doting boyfriend as he nods and grabs the hairbrush, slowly bruising out the multitude of knots caused by him, he's sure.

His nimble fingers pass your hair between them, slowly braiding your now neatly brushed hair. Matty grabs a hair tie and secures both of your braids at the end. Finishing with a flourish and a kiss on your nose that made your face scrunch up in that adorable way he loved.

Silently Matty picks you up again, smiling at the roll of your eyes and a bashful grin that you give him whilst in his arms. He places you on the edge of your bed before going to the chest of drawers behind him to fetch you both some clothes.

You hold in your giggles at your boyfriend's bare bum, assuming he wouldn't love another fit of laughter at his nakedness.

He soon returns with 2 pairs of black calvins and your favourite one of his shirts, the peach Panasonic shirt he once wore all the time. But mysteriously he stopped, about 2 years ago.

The first night you'd slept together Matty lent you that shirt, he remembers watching you sleep so soundly that morning in the shirt he adored. He vowed there and then to never wear it again, not wanting to sully it with any other memory than the memory of you.

He slipped the shirt over your shoulders and the calvins up your legs, giving your bum a cheeky pat when you lifted your hips to get them on. He followed you up the mattress and settled on the pillows, facing you and staring fondly into your eyes.

Each time your eyes met you treated it like a staring contest, never wanting to be the first to look away. The pure adoration in the other's eyes always kept you looking, staring, not ever wanting to leave that moment.

Matty broke first this time, a small celebration happened in your mind as he pulled the duvet over the two of you. He swung his arm over your shoulder as you settled on his chest. He leant down to give you a gentle kiss on the crown of your head with a large smile on his face.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he said, a smile evident in his voice.

Yours was slightly muffled by your head pressed into his chest but you returned his comment, “I love you too baby, thank you for making me feel good”

“Always” is the last thing Matty said, or the last thing you remember hearing before sleep took over you in the arms of the man you were sure was your soulmate.

#matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #matty healy fluff #matty healy fic #request!!#omg my first request... love that #i wrote this in like an hour i apologise if its shit

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spider999sposts · 9 months

Note

All this Miguel O’Hara content 🥵🥵🥵

Genuinely unsure if I’ve submitted this already, I am getting LOST in these fics, but what about a scenario involving that famous upside-down kiss but with Miguel O’Hara??

I’ve had daydreams of Miguel starting to frequent the coffee shop I tend to go to when having some work projects to do- we have some interactions, short chats; “another spreadsheet?” / me forgetting I have my pen in my mouth while typing, “neff-“ *taking pen out* “never underestimate the power of a good spreadsheet”

Just like… flirty friendly strangers. Then somehow ends up in an interaction with spiderman 2099 in that classic rainy upside-down kiss style 😩😮‍💨🥵

Your fics don’t help my feral obsession for this man and I’m so curious as to what you’d come up with, I neeeeed him 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Not Really Strangers — Miguel O'Hara

🕸synopsis: miguel o'hara gets his very own spiderkiss

🕸genre: fluff

🕸tags: miguel o'hara × reader

🕸a.n: thank you for requesting anon! so fun to write a version of this idea <3 requests are open everyone <3

Working at the Daily Bugle, meant that for most of the time, you had to do work that was not yours.

Your job didn't even include this in the work description when you first applied, you were suppose to be writing articles on what is happening in Nueva York, not making excel sheets of sales and marketing. At first, you did it to fill in for your pregnant co-worker in sales, but ever since she went on maternity leave, your boss, J. Jonah Jameson had designated you the office's sales rep, apparently, without even taking off some of your own work load.

Getting anything done in the office was near impossible nowadays with everyone looming over you, asking if you were done, if the spreadsheets were coming along, if the articles were finished, so you'd dissappear for a couple of hours when the office was at its busiest, taking your laptop and working at the coffeehouse right infront of the building you worked at.

You used to make fun of those who sat at coffee shops, with their big headphones and overpriced drinks, but now you realised how much you actually got done when no one was hanging over your shoulder, asking if you got it done. You've adopted a habit out of going to this café, to the point where you were recognised by the baristas and some of the regulars.

You never really spoke with any of the other regular customers, always gave them a polite wave or just said 'Goodmorning' or 'Have a good one.' depending on the person. None of them made any attempts at speaking with you, so you never really paid them any mind either. They were just familiar faces who made this place feel a little more homely.

Your first encounter with one of the regulars though, was certainly something.

You remember seeing him a couple of times, who wouldn't remember seeing that? Tall man, muscular arms, massive back, soft tufts of blackish brown hair and a brooding look, a nice ass—maybe a little too nice, always wearing that white jacket over any kind of shirt. He'd always come in, order the same coffee, every time.

His voice was queit, he mumbled most of the time and he had a deep, low voice, "One large americano, please." He'd get his drink, sip on it while scrolling through his phone or messing with his watch, then leave. You watched him do this routine one too many times, and one day you caught his name. "One large ameircano for Miguel!"

You never really did anything beyond stare at him, glancing at him between breaks after crunching numbers on your computer. He was just another –attractive– stranger. Nothing too special about him. No need to freak out.

That was until you were holding up the line one day, while looking for your wallet. You were nervously checking all your pockets, getting more and more nervous when you heard the irritation of the customers behind you. You almost had a breakdown when you heard someone walking over, bumping into everyone else. "Sorry—Lo siento—Hello." It was him, him and his...glorious chest and round ass. Him and his stupidly high cheekbones and plump lips. "Add one large americano to that, please. What's the total at?"

"17.75 dollars."

"Tsk, La inflación está afectando todo, ¿eh?"

[Inflation is affecting everything, huh?]

He pulled out his wallet and slid the money over the counter before you could even register. The line moved when the two of you made your way out of it, standing to the side to get your drinks. "Thank you, you didn't have to do that." You said, a blush creeping on your face. He didn't seem like a person who smiled very much, but he gave you a small grin, shaking his head. "Don't mention it. Besides, you really were holding up that line."

You laugh, even though it wasn't all that funny. "I..couldn't find my wallet. That never happens. I think I just left it back at the office. I'll fetch it to pay you back–"

"Oh, no need, my treat. I've wanted to buy you a drink for a while now."

From there, you start talking. You tell him why you became a regular, your hectic office and your demanding boss. He tells you he comes to avoid how hectic it gets too, tells you he works at Alchemax, and you salute him for surviving this long, he tells you it's all thanks to the coffee breaks he gets here and you laugh.

From here on out, you two keep bumping into each other at the coffeeshop. He'd come over and sit with you when it was too crowded, and it slowly became a thing with him, your thing with him. He'd sit at your table, watching you work and occasionally chatting with you, asking how it's going.

"What does a journalist have to do with sales?"

"Tvat—"You took the pen out of your mouth, putting it behind your ear. "—That is what I said!" He laughed, taking a sip of his coffee.

"It's cute how irritated you get. Here, let me help you."

Other days, when he seems a little busier, he flashs you one of those smiles of his, and drops a paper bag on the table before leaving, always containing some kind of sugary pastry to keep you going.

"I've got to run today, but make sure you eat well."

"Oh, are you concerned about me?"

"Of course I am, you're my periodista favorito." [Favourite Journalist]

"Spanglish!"

"Give me a break."

When he's on the phone and rushing out, he'd wave and wink, mouthing you a 'Goodluck' as he walked out the door.

And when you were working late, he'd offer to walk you home, saying it's the gentlemanly thing to do.

"That is me.."

"Ah, not so far from work, huh?"

"Not at all. Thank you for walking me."

"Of course, hermosa, wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Not with you around."

You didn't see Miguel very often after that, you mentally crused yourself for not asking for his number, but you had to remind yourself, you came here to get work done, to get spreadsheets filled out, to get articles written, not to daydream about a –gloriously handsome– man like its a school crush.

You ended up working over time back at your desk, going home at hours that you should probably be compensated for. Today was just one of those days. Your co-workers had all left, leaving you to lock the office. Once you were done, you exited the building, the cold autumn air flowing through your lungs and the pouring rain dampening your hair. You moved quickly, there were no taxis at this hour, so you pulled your coat closer to your body and made your way down the street. You didn't live too far from where the Daily Bugle was, but with this weather, you much preferred to be in a vehicle.

It was getting a little harder to see, the downpour was getting heavier and your vision was getting blurry. It didn't help how you could hear a pair of footsteps behind you—Make that two pairs of footsteps behind you. This time of night made people of every kind come out of the shadows. You just had to get to your neighbourhood and everything will be fine.

"Oi, sweetcheeks, wait up!"

"We just wanna have a chat, baby, stop walking so damn fast!"

You were practically speeding infront of them, trying to lose them by moving in between buildings. Maybe it wasn't the smartest of decisions, because by the third time, you found yourself met with a dead end. The two men from earlier seemed to have picked up a friend, and the three of them were approaching you in a menacing manner. You saw one of them holding something in his hand, the blade glinted in the pitch darkness. The other two lunged at you, pinning you to the wall. You let out a loud scream and started kicking, but it was to no avail. The armed man stepped closer to you, running his blade across your clothes, with a disgusting grin on his face.

"Gonna be a nice night, eh?"

You moved, kicking him between his legs. He recoiled, taking his time straightening up while his two filthy friends held you back tighter.

"We've got a fiesty one, h—"

A man moved out of the shadows, a familiar blue and red glow following him as he lunged at the perpetrator, knocking the swiss knife from his hand. The two men let you go and launched themselves at him, while the other one struggled to grab his knife from off the ground. Your not-so-unknown hero knocked out the two henchmen, webbing them to each other and kicking them to the side while he swiftly handled the third one. He was fast, incredibly fast, you could hear the man struggle to keep up with him, until he was finally knocked out near his two friends.

You stood mesmerised, staring at his massive back as he stood looming over the three of them. "¿Tu madre no te ha enseñado modales?" He grumbled. He must've felt your gaze, because he looked back at you. Your eyes met his red irsis, as he stood unmasked, the only thing concealing his face was the darkness you stood in.

[Has your mother taught you no manners?]

You took a few steps towards him, and he immediately moved, launching himself up. "Hey, wait!" You ran up to the street, looking up at the roofs of the two buildings you stood between. Behind you, you could hear a ziiiip! and when you turned around, your not-so-friendly masked hero stared at you, hanging upside down.

"Oh my god, hey." You smiled at him, putting your hands on your heart. It felt like was going to jump out of your chest.

"Hey." He replied, "¿Qué es algo bonito como que haces tan tarde en la noche?"

[What's a pretty thing like you doing this late at night?]

His voice sounded like you've heard it before, the way he rolled his r's and that thick spanish accent of his made him feel a little too familiar to you.

"I—I was working late." You replied after a bit, the glow of his suit reflecting in your eyes. "Spreadsheets again?" He asked, and the question made you laugh. "Yeah! My boss needed them finished."

"You shouldn't stay this late out." His tone was authoritative, "Especially all alone. Who knows what would've happened if I wasn't...in the area."

Unknown to you, he wasn't exactly 'in the area', he was making sure you'd get home safe. Just like he did every other night you went home late.

"Usually I have a friend that walks me home, but I haven't seen him in a while." You explain, before nodding. "But you're right. I won't stay this late again."

"Ah, good. Take care of yourself."

"Are you always this concerned about the people you save?"

"Just the pretty ones."

Your skin heated up, and you took a step towards him with a smile. "That's not very fair of you, Mr. Spiderman. I'm a journalist you know, I could hold this against you."

"But you won't." He chuckled, and you tilted your head at his playfulness. "You like me too much."

"My boss doesn't though, writing something negative about you could give me a raise."

"Mm, that's your thanks for saving you?"

You laugh, and move a bit closer to him so your faces were inches apart. A moment of silence fell upon the two of you, as you gently hooked your finger against the fabric of his mask.

"Wait—" One of his big hands wrapped around your wrist, but he quickly removed it, holding on to his red webs instead.

You lowered his mask and set it gently on his sharp nose. You could see his tanned skin glistening with rain droplets, his plump lips were parted and there was a recognisable small scar on his neck, peeking from under the suit. You wrapped your hands around his warm cheeks, and leaned in, pressing your lips to his. They were soft, just like how you imagined they would be. He kissed you back, closing his eyes under the mask, letting himself savour this moment as much as he could. You were ever so gentle, your breath hitched in your throat and your mouth slightly open.

You pulled back after a few minutes, and he leaned forward, not really ready to let go of you. He fought the urges he's been feeling ever since the first time he saw you in the coffeeshop, but if it were up to him, he would've had you kiss him until the two of you were breathless.

"That is my thanks." You replied, taking a step back with a smile on your face. "I'll see you around, right?" You asked, and he nodded. "You will."

You turned your back to him and made your way out to the street, the smile still on your face.

"Oh, and spiderman?"

"Yeah?"

"I didn't tell you about the spreadsheets."

His cheeks flushed as he watched you go, he followed you on the rooftops until he made sure you entered the apartment building safely.

His gizmo beeped, and a notification caught his eye.

Canon Event Completed.

#across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel o'hara #marvel #lyla spiderverse #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o hara fluff #miguel needs a hug #answered #requests #requests are always open everyone !!#more requests please <3

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spartanguard · 3 months

Text

an important date

it's Friday and it's Colin's birthday....I had to do something!! Just a bit of a post-canon Captain Charming scene, inspired by this prompt: "We both meet at the bar at a birthday party but we don’t even know who’s birthday it is. I think it’s yours, you think it’s mine." 1.1k, rated T | AO3

The Rabbit Hole was…well, the Rabbit Hole—its usual divy self. It wasn’t where Killian would typically expect to find David, least of all on the prince’s birthday.

At least—he thought that’s what Emma had said? She’d all but shoved him out of the station that evening, with the direction to meet her father here for a “birthday drink”. Of the birth dates he’d memorized (and would never forget—Emma’s, Henry’s, Hope’s), he realized he was severely lacking when it came to his in-laws.

But perhaps David’s would be easier to remember, given its proximity to his own. Or, rather, when he thought his own was; the actual date was long since lost to time, realm travel, and changing calendars, and it had been centuries since he’d actually done anything to mark the date, but he remembered it being in spring.

Really the only fond memory he had of the day was picking fresh wildflowers with his mother, the light scent filling their small house, and the sweet taste of the modest cake she’d baked. When the hyacinth began to bloom in Storybrooke, he was always taken back to that day, and generally used that milestone to mark the passing of his years—but he’d lived enough of them that he needed no extra celebration or recognition.

As it was, the first shoots of spring had only just begun to emerge, so by his math, that put David’s birthday—or whatever today was—a few weeks ahead of his own. Good to know.

He scanned the bar for his mate—squinting a bit harder than he’d like to admit in the dim light (further evidence of the passage of time, he presumed)—almost missing him at the far end of the counter, until David waved at him.

“Evening, mate,” he greeted as he slid onto the barstool next to his father-in-law. “Not your typical scene, eh?” he added, nodding towards the rest of the bar, where all manner of seedy goings-on (well, as much as ever happened in Storybrooke) were happening—things the deputy sheriff should probably be concerned with, but he was off the clock (and had no room to talk).

David shrugged. “I’ve been known to pass the occasional night here—cursed and not cursed. Having royalty around seems to keep things calm.”

“Aye, but you’ve never been here with a pirate,” he winked back, even if it had been ages since he’d anything resembling a rowdy night. The most exciting his had been lately were the times that they managed to get a teething Hope down early enough to squeeze in some intimacy, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Emma’s father.

“No,” David agreed. “But I figured I could manage for one night. To mark the occasion and all.”

“Aye; it does warrant that. My apologies for not knowing the date sooner—happy birthday, Dave.”

But instead of the customary thanks, David just tilted his head at him, brow furrowed in confusion. “Huh?”

Bloody hell—had he misheard Emma? “We’re here to celebrate your day of birth, are we not?”

“No; my birthday is in July—so now I kind of am offended,” David replied, though his tone was light. “Wait—did Emma not tell you?”

“She told me to meet you here for a birthday drink—I assumed that meant it was yours.”

“No, man—it’s yours.”

“Come again?” He’d never so much as commented to anyone, including Emma, the whereabouts of birth date; so how would either of them, least of all David, have known?

David explained, “Remember near the end of her pregnancy, when her magic was kind of overpowered and she was trying to release it?” How could Killian forget? He spent a whole week with blue hair, and trying to keep Pop-Tarts from flying around the house. “Apparently during that, she was trying out a bunch of easy, informational spells; there was one about revealing birthdates. Turned out mine was off by a couple of days. But yeah, she did yours, too; she never mentioned it?”

Killian was momentarily speechless. Not out of betrayal or anything—things were rather chaotic leading up to Hope’s birth, so he didn’t blame Emma for letting it slip her mind—but moreso that it had been able to be determined.

And, despite the last several years being filled with things such as True Love, marriages, and more family than he’d ever imagined having, he was still touched by the idea that anyone cared enough about him to know the date he’d entered this world (or whichever world it was)—and even more that they wanted to acknowledge it.

“Uh, no,” he said, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. “I seem to recall her pregnancy brain was pretty bad then,” he quipped, hoping to lighten the moment. “So—really? Today?”

“Today,” David confirmed. Killian thought back to the wildflowers—then recalled that he grew up in a far warmer climate than Maine’s, perhaps the reason for his miscalculation.

(Also: he now understood why Emma had woken him with morning sex that day. That was never something he’d question, though—and also something he wouldn’t dare mention in present company.)

The barkeep then set two glasses of amber liquid in front of David. He slid one across the worn wood to Killian, then raised his own. “Happy birthday, Killian. To the best son-in-law—best friend—a man could ask for.”

Killian clinked his glass against David’s and quickly took a sip, hoping it might wash down the lump that had formed in his throat. Alas, it didn’t—but at least it was there with good reason. “Thank you, mate; and, uh, the feeling is mutual.” It wasn’t often words escaped him, so hopefully his father-in-law picked up on the weight of the emotion in his voice; he tried to find David’s eyes, but was overcome with an odd bashfulness he hadn’t felt since youth.

David just gave a gentle chuckle and a solid, brotherly thump on the shoulder, before attempting to down his own shot of rum—which brought on laughter of a different kind, but it broke the bit of tension.

They shared another drink after (whiskey; far more palatable to the prince), before leaving to their respective princesses—and sharing perhaps a stronger embrace than Killian had originally intended, but it was certainly called for.

As sweet as his memories from childhood were, it was nice to add this one to the collection of birthday remembrances—the first in so long. (And, as he eventually found, not the last—not by a long shot—in the many years to come.)

(However, he still refused, in all those celebrations, to tell David the way Emma preferred to mark the occasion.)

-----------------------------💙💙-------------------------------

[thanks for reading, and happy Captain Charming Friday! tags below cut]

@optomisticgirl @xpumpkindumplingx @cocohook388 @kmomof4 @kat2609 @shipsxahoy @mryddinwilt @annytecture @phiralovesloki @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @wistfulcynic @pirateherokillian @colinoeyebrows @wingedlioness @word-bug @thisonesatellite @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @killianmesmalls @thejollyroger-writer @ineffablecolors @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubblesandwich @athenascarlet @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes @donteattheappleshook @jrob64 @the-darkdragonfly @stahlop @klynn-stormz @resident-of-storybrooke [let me know if you do/don't want tags!]

#killian jones #killian jones ff #captain charming ff #captain charming friday #my ff

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frankenkyle19 · 11 months

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Healing ❤️‍🩹

Request: angst with Kit Walker and fem!reader in the asylum

description: you and kit Walker look out for each other, and that includes cleaning up each other’s wounds

warnings: non sexual body touching (touching someone’s butt omg 😱 gkejfkef) mentions of abuse (asylum 😬) and some suggestive comments from ours truly, Mr. Kit Walker himself

word count: 1,049

(This gif is so sad, also not my own, I found it on Pinterest. Anyways, enjoy!! <3)

—————————————————————————

You hadn’t meant to kill that man. While it wasn’t entirely an accident, you had no other choice. It was you or him. You had been home alone one night and he had broken in through your bedroom window. You knew your father had kept a gun in his bedside drawer so you had done the only reasonable thing. You protected yourself, but it wasn’t seen that way in court. They twisted the events and blew them out of proportion until you were labeled insane and sent away to the asylum. It was living hell there, and the only person who got you through it was Kit. He had came in about a week before you, accused of killing his wife as well as other women and skinning them. You could see through that lie immediately. Kit barely had a mean bone in his body. He seemed to take interest in you immediately. You two bonded over being wrongfully accused.

Life in the asylum was no joke. From the strict schedule to the punishments for every single little mistake. The first time you got punished, Kit had found a way out of his room and brought ointment to you. You were curled up on your bed, your butt covered in red welts from the lashes. All you had done was ask for a clean gown after you had gotten flour all over yours while in the kitchen. Sister Jude had beaten you senseless. She seemed to like giving out punishments if the smirk on her face was any hint.

Kit had snuck into your room with some ointment he had managed to steal and hide in his pillow, using it on himself when he got whipped. He seemed to receive much harsher punishments than you, and nearly twice as often if not more.

When he saw you curled up on your bed, his heart broke a little. You didn’t belong here. He knew that. Any sane person knew that. He had gently coaxed you to lay on your stomach, assuring you that he was only going to put the ointment on your wounds, that was it. Kit was a gentleman and would never ever take advantage of someone in your position. He had been as gentle as he could, rubbing the cooled ointment onto your sore bum, making sure it was rubbed in before he carefully pulled down your gown, rubbing your back.

That was when you two began to get close. After that you two could always be found together either in the break room, where the repetitive music bore into your brain, or the kitchen where you two helped with dishes or preparing dinner. Kit had started a fight with one of the guards after they mumbled something about your appearance. He got beat up so badly that he had to be dragged back to his cell, half unconscious.

Your very first true act of defiance would be sneaking out of your room to go check on Kit and make sure he was okay.

You had found him in a similar position to how he found you that first day, curled up on his bed, falling in and out of sleep. You had managed to smuggle some ointment and water for him, wanting to make sure he stayed hydrated and that his wounds didn’t get infected.

When Kit’s eyes peeled open and he saw you, he swore you were an Angel sent from heaven to come fly him away.

“Suga’?” He mumbled almost deliriously.

“What’re ya doin’ in here? It’s dangerous. Don’t want ya getting caught.” He tried to sit up but groaned, quickly giving up on the idea of that.

“Just lay down okay? You got beat up real bad, I just wanted to check on you.”

“Aw I’m honored suga’. I don’t really remember what happened.” He admitted, brain foggy.

“You got in a fight with the guards, trying to defend me. You can’t do that, Kit. You could have gotten hurt even worse, or- or killed!” The thought alone made your stomach turn and tears pricked the corners of your eyes. The idea of losing Kit broke your heart.

“Don’t cry fo’ me, doll. I’m sorry but I couldn’t let em’ talk bad about you.”

You simply just shook your head, urging him to roll over so you could assess his wounds. They were bad. They were littered across his back and his bum, red and some even bleeding.

“Gonna be my nurse, suga?” He chuckled to himself, looking over his shoulder at you. “Have I been naughty?”

“Stop, Kit. Not now.” You two had been harboring a relationship that had been growing over the past few weeks, now months? You couldn’t remember how long you’d been stuck here.

He shut up, swallowing hard as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

Being as gentle as you could, you cleaned off the blood from his wounds before applying the ointment, Kit letting out quiet protests and whines of pain which you gently hushed.

When your hands finally reached his bum, you felt him shiver and let out a quiet whistle “woah there m’lady.”

You rolled your eyes and continued on applying the ointment until all his wounds were covered and then you quickly pulled his clothes back on, a blush rising on your face.

“Thanks for takin’ care of me, doll.” He mumbled, rolling over on his side to look at you.

“Of course, Kit. I brought you water, are you thirsty?”

He nodded, sitting up weakly with a wince. You frowned seeing him in so much pain and knowing that in a way, you had caused it.

You tipped his head forward and helped him sip the water. It was the only thing you could do in the moment to make him feel better. You’d do anything if it meant helping him in any way.

Your relationship only deepened after that, growing stronger each second you spent with each other. You two were attached at the hip, absolutely inseparable. He would watch out for you and you would watch out for him. It made living at the asylum a little more bearable. Maybe eventually you would get out, but if not, you at least knew Kit Walker was by your side through everything.

#kit walker #kit walker ahs #kit walker angst #evan peters #american horror story #ahs asylum #american horror asylum #kit walker x reader #evan peters icons

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rushingheadlong · 7 months

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Today is the 30th anniversary of Brian’s concert at the Palace Theater in New Haven, CT, USA. And since this is my favorite solo show Brian has ever done, I wanted to finally put together a proper post about the concert and why I love it so much.

First, a bit of background about the tour in general… For about 40% of the shows on the tour, the Brian May Band was not the main act at all. From late February to early July 1993 Brian was touring almost exclusively in support of Guns’n’Roses; they had some shows during this time where they were the headlining band but those were (generally) few and far between. It wasn’t until October 1993 that Brian set out on a tour that was exclusively his, with the Brian May Band as the only headliner and with no other support bands joining them.

It’s also important to remember that nearly everything about solo touring was entirely new to Brian, and while he can look back on it all with fondness now that ‘newness’ did cause legitimate issues during the tour itself. One of the biggest recurring problems was the new wireless system they were using for the Red Special.

(Brian, sans curly lead, at Brixton Academy)

The lack of cable meant that Brian had the freedom to move around that he needed as a frontman, but it also meant that they were dealing with constant signal issues and interference. And by “they” I mean Brian and a temporary guitar tech, because this tour took place after Jobby left but before Pete Malandrone came along.

So, with that out of the way… Why is this my favorite Back to the Light concert?

Well for one thing, it’s the best quality bootleg we have from the tour. Really the only video that’s in better quality is the professionally-filmed Brixton Academy show, and that one was edited for release to remove the explicit ending to Love Token and Brian’s cover of “God (Dream Is Over)”. In fact for the longest time the October New Haven show was pretty much the only source we had for “Dream Is Over” at all because it was never performed when they were touring with GNR.

So even though there weren’t any special one-off songs during the New Haven concert, this is really the only easily-available (i.e. on youtube) bootleg we have that includes the original full setlist and the complete encore. Some sections of video are missing, but they’re generally short moments between songs; very little of Brian’s actual performance is missing, and even better the audio quality is fantastic as well.

That's not to say that it's a perfect bootleg, or even a perfect show for that matter. The technical issues that were endemic to this tour are absolutely present here too, from Jamie’s guitar not coming in on his solo to major tuning problems with Brian's acoustic. But IMO that doesn't detract from things too much at all, because the band is far enough into this whole production that they know how to work around these things. You can see those moments when Brian gets frustrated but it doesn't get the best of him, not like it did in South America:

(Brian frustrated by technical issues in Chile)

By the time October 1993 rolls around the Brian May Band is a well-oiled machine. They know how to brush off the mistakes and cover for the inevitable problems that happen during any live show. And when things are going alright for the band and Brian looks more happy than not during shows, it's sometimes easy I think to forget how very not alright Brian still was on a personal level.

Because this final stint of touring kicked off less than two years after Freddie's death. The therapy that Brian found through Back to the Light wasn't in the making of the album, which was nearly finished before Freddie died, but in the touring specifically. Which means that by the time the band rolls into New Haven, Brian's been working through his grief onstage for less than a year. After knowing Freddie for over 23 years and spending 16 of those almost exclusively performing live with Queen.

Saying that Brian was still "not alright" in October 1993 is actually a massive understatement. The worst of his depression, anxiety, and grief is absolutely still there, but Brian keeps working through it - both literally, as he continues with the tour, and figuratively as he uses that tour as his therapy.

But as anyone who’s been in therapy can tell you, it’s not always linear. So when your therapy is performing with your band and you have a momentary backslide…

Well, you pretty much get this exact concert.

I’ve talked about some of this before, most recently in this post where I talk about Brian’s visible reaction to the audience participation in Love of My Life, but honestly I did that moment a disservice by stripping it out of the context of the rest of the show. Because yes, he’s reacting to the audience there (and I'll talk more about the audience later) but critically Brian has been off his game since the start of the show.

(Brian already looking Over It™ after only a few songs)

If you haven't watched (m)any of the BttL concerts, it can be hard to pick up on a lot of this without the additional context of Brian's behavior during other gigs. Brian has always been the most confident while performing and he's comfortable with this band now, so on first watch it’s easy to see him enjoying himself and think that the few moments of overt discomfort are outliers born out of Brian’s unfamiliarity with being a frontman.

But once you start watching more of his concerts, you realize that Brian only seems so comfortable because he’s avoiding going “off script” in his interactions with the audience whenever possible.

The first time this is really apparent comes at the start of Love Token. The introduction to the song is pretty standard across the tour, but what's missing is Brian talking to the audience before launching into things. He tells them, "You guys are great." but the rest of the typical chatter and comments about not having been to New Haven in a while are turned into part of the Love Token opening monologue.

(New Haven, before Love Token)

In contrast, a week later in Milwaukee, Brian does the happy-to-be-back bits entirely separate from Love Token and he explicitly mentions when he was there before with Queen. He's having a genuine moment with the audience outside of the music, and you can tell from his tone of voice and how he’s talking that he’s not doing this on autopilot.

(Milwaukee, before Love Token)

That's something that seems simple, but it still requires talking off-the-cuff to a theater full of people. And if you're already having a rough night, why put yourself through that if you can simply roll it into part of the song and make it a bit more routine for yourself instead?

Then we get into Love of My Life, and I know I already talked about some of this before but amazingly that moment where Brian physically curls in on himself during the song is not the only tell that this isn’t a good night for him.

Again, we have to take a look at Brian’s interactions with the audience because LoML is one of the parts of the show where he can’t avoid talking to them even if he wanted to. What he specifically says can vary wildly from one night to the next, but there are three main beats he usually tries to hit:

Asking the audience to sing along

Telling them that this song is for Freddie

Acknowledging that he wasn’t the one who originally wrote the song

I say “usually” because Brian doesn’t always mention that 3rd point. Often he just says that this is for Freddie and launches into LoML, without any commentary on the song not being “his”.

Sometimes he does mention it but leaves it a little vague, like in March 1993 in New York when he said, “This is something that I don't usually sing and to be honest I get doubts as to whether I should or not.” And sometimes he laughs it off a bit, like he did in Milwaukee in October 1993 when he said, “And it isn't because I was thinking that I have the right, it's just because I really wanna do it."

Regardless of how it’s said, Brian’s emphasis is still on the song being for Freddie. Any comments he makes about his “right” to perform it are almost always secondary to his assertion that he’s doing this in memory of his friend - but not when he gets to New Haven:

(New Haven, before Love of My Life)

In New Haven, Brian (accidentally) puts the focus on the song’s ownership. His slight hesitance and fumbling over his sentence inadvertently puts the emphasis on his own anxieties and mental state, so when he does mention Freddie his grief seems to come through stronger than it may otherwise have done.

Then Brian starts playing and although we have to acknowledge again that he’s having technical issues here, you can still tell the difference between his background emotional state on this night and his frustrations with his guitar. Because when Brian’s problems are external, he reacts and emotes to them externally - but when his problems are internal, he reacts by turning inwards on himself.

(New Haven, during Love of My Life)

Both of those gifs are from LoML. On the left he’s clearly frustrated by the guitar and/or his playing. He’s making a face, shaking his head, trying to adjust to fix it… He’s not exactly going out of his way to hide that there’s an issue there.

But on the right, when the audience sounds a bit too much like they would have with Freddie and their singing is starting to get to him, Brian’s reaction is to close off. He goes still, his face becomes blank, he turns the mic away from him so it can’t pick up any noises if he starts crying again…

(Yes, again, because I’m not going to swear on my life that that’s what’s happening earlier in the song…. but Brian does wipe something away from his face and sometimes that’s enough to make you wonder…)

(New Haven, Brian wiping his face during Love of My Life)

A few songs later and we arrive at Too Much Love Will Kill You. It’s another moment for Brian to talk to the audience, although he usually doesn’t say anything. At both Milwaukee and Brixton, Spike starts playing and Brian just comes in singing. But in New Haven, Brian feels the need to give the audience a little “warning” before they start…

(New Haven, before Too Much Love Will Kill You)

This is Brian’s anxieties coming through again, plain and simple. There’s no need to tell the audience that this part of the show “terrifies” him. If anything there’s a stronger argument to be made that the better, safer option would have been for Brian to say nothing rather than priming the audience to expect this to be imperfect.

Except the audience has already seen the imperfections. Even if they aren’t picking up on every little tell that Brian is having an off night, at this point they’ve already gotten through LoML. Everyone in that theater has already beared witness to his small come-apart during that song, and you know that Brian is absolutely still thinking about that moment as Spike starts the opening notes of TMLWKY.

Here he is, about to sing another slower and more emotional song, only this time he doesn’t have the familiarity of his guitar to fall back on or to hide behind if something goes wrong again. If he’s remembering LoML then surely the audience must be thinking of it too - and surely they must be waiting for him to fuck up again, so clearly the best thing for Brian to do is to preempt this song so the audience knows that this is difficult even on the best of nights.

That’s obviously all speculation but, as someone with an anxiety disorder myself, sometimes it just makes you want to apologize for everything. Whether you’ve actually done something wrong is irrelevant, because the anxiety will always find ways to make it feel like you’re “failing” in some way.

Brian can’t outright apologize to his audience. He’s stuck in his frontman role with a certain script to follow and he can’t break kayfabe to say “Sorry” without ruining the entire atmosphere of the show. What he can do is to admit to the things they should already know - in this case, that being onstage without his guitar is unusual and uncomfortable for him - and let them infer the rest.

He does nearly the same thing again when he talks to the audience at the start of the encore. He always thanks them for coming out to the show, but it feels a little more heartfelt at New Haven.

This part is impossible to gif but the first thing Brian says is, “Let me tell you, this is no bullshit, you guys are amazing. Because there's not that many of us here tonight and I appreciate you guys turning out and making that kind of noise.”

And I promise I’ll get more into the audience in a bit, but the fact that this wasn’t a well-attended show is SO important here as is Brian’s acknowledgment of that. This is really his last chance to say anything to the audience and he decides to specifically thank them for being loud enough to make up for the lack of attendance.

If that doesn’t say something about where his anxieties may have been focused - and what moments from the show struck a genuine chord with him - then I don’t know what does.

After that, Brian only has one more thing to say before he starts introducing “Dream Is Over”...

(New Haven, before the encore)

This is as close as Brian can get to saying, “I’m sorry but I’m doing my best.” He’s saying that he’s giving the audience everything he can and it sounds like an apology anyway. And then he has to steal himself to start the intro to the song, which he always has to do, but it hits a little harder when it’s preceded by that and not by something more like this:

(Milwaukee, before the encore)

And if you’ve made it through this nightmarishly long dissertation about every reason this show is heartbreaking and all the ways you can tell that Brian is having a rough go of it, you’re probably wondering “Rushing what the fuck is wrong with you that THIS is your favorite???”

Which, valid. But it’s my favorite because I think it’s both incredibly important and, honestly, very humbling to see Brian like this.

This isn’t the Tribute Concert, where everything is still so raw and performing hurts as much as doing nothing at all. This isn’t 1992 in South America where Brian can channel his grief into his frustration and push it out on the techs every time something goes wrong. This isn’t an opening show for GNR, where Brian’s time is more limited and even if he gets emotional he’s (probably) not the reason everyone in the theater is there.

This is Brian, not quite two years on from Freddie’s death, still mourning and still extremely depressed and anxious. And this is what it looks like when Brian has to push through that and put on a show anyway. The ways in which he both pulls away from the audience and tries to open up to them give insights not just into the state of Brian’s mental health at the time, but how that affected everything else about him from the way he carried himself to his mannerisms to how he followed the script of his own concert.

The October New Haven concert is a stark reminder of the depths of Brian’s depression and just how much time it takes a person to claw their way out of that.

And the other reason I love this concert is that you absolutely can also see the progress that Brian has already made.

Because despite the 2,500 words dissecting all the ways in which Brian was not fine during this show, there are still plenty of moments where it’s abundantly clear that he was enjoying being able to perform his music with this band.

(New Haven, Brian looking happy)

He’s visibly delighted every time he realizes that Jamie has shimmied over to join him without him realizing. He keeps looking over to everyone on his right and grinning. Whenever he really nails a difficult guitar line you can almost see the confidence boost that it gives him.

Yes, Brian is depressed and struggling but when he’s onstage he’s still Brian fucking May. He’s in his element and he is nailing it, despite the technical hiccups and emotional moments and everything in-between.

I love this concert because you see the depths of who Brian is as a person: his musicianship and how he uses that as a crutch to keep himself moving forward, the love he has for both the friends he’s performing with and those who are gone, his fears and anxieties and moments of deep self-doubt, the guitar legend he grew up to be and the incredible frontman he didn’t realize he could be, and the tired person simply trying to find himself anew after 20 years spent as someone he can’t return to anymore.

And there’s one final, very important reason that I love this show so much: the audience. (I promised we’d talk about them eventually, didn’t I?)

Brian has always been someone who thrives on the atmosphere of a live show and by god was New Haven determined to give him everything they could. They were loud, they were enthusiastic, and you can see Brian responding to that.

(New Haven, Brian looking happy because of the audience)

Brian pulls himself back together after the audience starts cheering for him during LoML. During band introductions they applaud for him long enough that it bleeds into the next song, and despite himself Brian smiles at it. And every time they recognize a Queen song you can see Brian responding to something familiar to him again.

Do you know how hard it was to get even these three gifs? Not because finding the moments was difficult, but because this audience is enjoying themselves so much that their arms are blocking the view more often than not.

Look, I am stupidly biased about this show because I’m a CT native - not from New Haven, but this is still a “home” show for me. Brian walks out wearing that tank top and I get why he wore hometown shirts for the encores even though I fucking hate Yale. This show could have been the most run-of-the-mill, routine concert imaginable and I would still find some way to write 3,000 words waxing poetic about it.

But this wasn’t a routine concert - or maybe a better way to put it would be, this was an incredibly routine concert made remarkable because of far Brian’s mask has slipped and what that inadvertently reveals to us. It’s incredible because the quality of the bootleg means we can actually see the little details of expression that otherwise are often lost.

The October New Haven concert is my favorite from Brian’s first solo tour because it proves the entire point he was making with the album. It’s a performance that shows us that Brian was finding his way Back to the Light - and that even when he was still in the dark, he was “still the same old [him] inside” despite everything that changed.

#brian may #brian harold may #brian may solo #queen #queen band #text #long post //#ramblings #brian #HEY WARNING THIS IS 3200 WORDS SO CLICK THROUGH AT YOUR OWN RISK

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lifewithdavefarts · 3 months

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DaveFarts - Episode 27 “Spicy Gas” [Episode List] Dave and Dana try to spice things up in their sexual life.

POV: Dave

Spicy Gas

Fuck, I’m freezing in this car.

It’s worth it though: I’m picking my girlfriend up from work and we’re going back to my place together. Tim (my bro and roommate) is out of town because of some needy client so, yeah, you know where this is going: a sexy, hot, movie night until we fall asleep on the couch.

When you’re past 30, this is considered a massive win.

It’s about 7:00 PM and I parked right where Dana asked me, in the mostly desert underground car park below the office building she works at. She works (usually overtime…) in a law firm and she’s as badass as she sounds; it’s a demanding job, though she’s up for it, as she told me many times without me asking and not in a nervous way at all.

Yes, she sounds stressed, but I know her, she’s got it, I’m here if she needs to vent. Sometimes that’s all you need and if it’s not, well, we’re just gonna talk abou- why is this car so cold?!

I hope Dana’s on her way ‘cause if she’s not she’s gonna find his boyfriend dead of hypothermia. Before picking her up, I made a quick stop to a fast food nearby to get some french fries on the fly, because my body may be a temple, but it’s a crumbling one. But not even junk food raised my body temperature.

This is how it ends, Dana, with your handsome boyfriend being murdered by this harsh, cold Winter in his own car, a coffin made of plastic and steel.

Truth is, I was bored and tired, so I was basically falling asleep, until I heard someone tapping on the car window right next to me. That made me jump, that always startle me for some reason… and she knows it very well, given the idiotic, beautiful smile on her face.

“Hey babe.” I said from inside the car, but she could barely hear me.

She walked around the vehicle and got inside, sitting on the passenger seat, next to me. We exchanged a quick peck on the lips and I then went for the keys to start the car.

“Wait, I need a moment.” Dana said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

She wasn’t mad nor sad, she just wanted to smoke a cigarette before leaving, all while she (as I said) vented about some co-worker acting like a bitch.

“‘Do not let Bennet know about it’ I told him and guess what he did?!”

“He… he told B-“

“He told her!” she had a puff of her cigarette. “Can you believe it? Now everyone knows we’re behind schedule because that idiot had to lick my boss’ ass.”

“Wow” I replied. I swear I’m listening, I’m just a bit on auto-pilot.

And freezing.

“And my boss… oh my boss, she got so mad, and rightfully so. We could handle the schedule, we do it all the time, but no! He had to rat us out like the kiss ass he is.”

“Is that him?” I said, casually glancing at some guy walking in the empty parking lot. “I can run him over if you want to.” I joked… and I hope she knows I’m joking.

“Yes, but don’t do anything, don’t move, don’t make any sound. He’s such a kiss ass that if he notices us he’ll come here to cha- I told you not to make a sound!” she said, almost laughing, as my enormous fart cut her off.

Yes, one of my usual farts, powered by those fries I got earlier (not that I need any particular fuel to rip a good one).

You all know what I’m capable of, my bro Tim definitely does.

I hate how warm it felt compared to the sheer cold of the car. My girl is very familiar with all of my talents, including this one. 7 seconds and I was done.

“Are you done shitting yourself?” she politely asked.

I leaned towards her and we exchanged another quick peck, but me moving meant that the gas trapped under my ass now was free to pollute the entire car.

“I’m your pig, remember?” I whispered.

“I literally never called you that.”

“Really? Must have been one of my other girlfriends then.” I joked.

She playfully slapped my shoulder and I sat back in front of the steering wheel, ready to start the car.

“Wait.”

“Oh please can we go home? I’m freezing.” I lamented.

“Just a minute…” she looked at me amused, but thoughtful. “There’s something I’d like to talk you about.” she put out her cigarette and put it in the ashtray.

“You okay?”

“Sure.” she replied, calmly.

A few seconds of silence followed. I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for her to say something.

“I actually… do like when you’re a pig.” she smiled, but still being serious and calm about it.

I gave her and inquisitive, amused look.

“Don’t judge me.” she noticed my expression.

“I’m not judging you babe.” I said. “It’s our thing, we’re very open about what we like.”

“I know… you’re awesome.”

“Of course I am.” I confirmed, with a smug smirk, fully knowing how annoying I am.

“And I, too, am awesome, thank you very much.” she added, giving me a funny scolding glare.

We laughed it off.

“So what’s up, babe?” I genuinely asked. “You know my kinks...” I leaned closer to her. “What’s your dirty secret, Mrs. D?” I whispered, trying to act cool and sexy, but all I got was another playful slap on my shoulder.

“It’s not… what you did like a minute ago.” she said, gesturing towards me.

“Oh you mean this?” I pretended to push one more fart out, but this time I actually had nothing brewing (incredible, huh?). I was amused by her reaction though. “Just kidding.” I quickly said.

She actually laughed at that.

“You’re so nice and it’s not that I like you being disgusting but… dammit, I admit that… sometimes… when we do our thing… maybe I’d like you being a bit more… dirty.”

I let out a surprisingly nervous cackle.

“That’s it? You want to spice things up?” I asked, reaching for my phone. “Because I’m pretty sure Google can give us some tips.”

She calmly but firmly extended her arm towards me. She grabbed my phone and threw it in the backseat. She then put her left hand on my jeans-clad right leg.

“If you’re cold, Mr. D” it was Dana’s turn to whisper. “I know just the way to warm you up.”

That got me instantly aroused.

My girlfriend’s hand moved closer to my crotch, touching the tent I pitched between my legs.

“Oh… are you nervous?” she asked, gently caressing my boner, still in-character, whatever the character was.

I nodded.

Why did I nod? Am I an idiot?

With a deft movement, she untied my belt and her hand slipped right into my jeans and underwear, going straight for my hard cock.

As that happened, I let out a very short high-pitched scream, not because I wasn’t used to this, but because Dana’s hand was way colder than I was expecting. She broke character to laugh a bit at my very manly scream, then quickly went back into this femme fatale persona she was impersonating.

I was sweating.

But then I realized...

“Wait… r-right here?” I stuttered.

“Are you scared, Mr. D?” she asked. “Are you… too much of a nice guy for this?”

The fuck I am.

I grabbed her head and kissed her, her tongue going down my throat as she wrapped her cold fingers around my warm, throbbing cock.

I don’t know what was going down there… I mean I do know obviously, but the way Dana was moving her hand and fingers this time almost made me cum on the spot. She did in fact spice things up, so I guess I could do was return the favour... in my own personal way.

I sat back normally and spread my legs wide, my cock still being massaged, and ripped a loud, vibrating fart, a loud blast that made the entire vehicle shake. A quick 5 seconds rip which, weirdly enough, made Dana moan as she listened to it.

“You’re such a pig.” she scolded me, now literally strangling my cock, so much so that that I actually felt a bit of pain.

And I was loving the fuck out of that.

I saw a car passing by but the thought of them noticing us only made me harder.

I then ripped another big fart, because I’m the master of this shit. I could feel the vibrations of this one even on Dana’s hand as she jerked me off, something that she seemed to enjoy.

All of this was disgusting and yet we found it hot as fuck.

My girlfriend was as thirsty I was and finally managed to pull my cock out of my jeans.

“Oh there it is.” she said, leaning down to give it a quick lick. "Let me have it."

Not the first time we do this stuff obviously, but dammit that one move was indeed a dirty one. Pre-cum dripped down from the tip of my penis as I ripped another monstrous fart, the warm gas fogging up the car's windows. I was hot-boxing that whole place and my girlfriend didn’t care; instead she once again slipped her tongue down my throat.

“Time to sleep, pig.” she then whispered right into my hear, right before biting it.

After that, she strongly tightened her grip on my cock and then twisted it. I clenched my teeth as that happened, but the arousal that it gave me was insane.

That final move made me cum, a white fountain appearing between my legs as Dana bit my ear again.

That was quick… for my standards at least, but she didn’t seem to mind at all. Actually, she was a sweaty mess herself. She licked her lips and gave me a quick peck on my own.

“Try finding that on Google.” she said, as she sat back on her passenger seat.

As if the spirit of some femme fatale left her body, she turned to me and smiled, opening the car window by her side, now realizing how terrible my gas was.

“Yeah, fuck Google, ammirite?” literally the most unsexy thing I could have said.

She handed me some napkins to clean the mess. And a cigarette, which we shared.

“Still cold?” Dana asked me, once again giving me a certain look.

I started the car in response, then I turned to her, looking straight into her brown eyes.

I let out a loud, muffled fart that shook the seat, narrowing my eyes as I pushed it out. It was warm, it was vibrating through my jeans-clad ass. I winked at my girlfriend as the thunder kept going, something that she, against all odds, seemed to appreciate.

12 seconds, then my ass went silent.

“Are you?” I asked back to her, with a smirk.

The End

#eproctophilia #davefarts #fart kink #malefarts #fart story

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greetingfromthedead · 10 days

Text

Wedding Bells (Vash x Bride!Reader)

Plot: You didn't really think too hard about your wedding day, planning to perhaps sign a paper and then go celebrate with drinks, but both you and Vash had made a promise to Lena and Granny to include them and once Meryl and Milly found out, the event took on a life of its own.

Series: None.

Pairing: Vash x Bride!Reader

Raiting: Everyone

Tags: post-Trimax (no major spoiler), fluff, happy ending, wedding, found family, love of your life

Word count: 3k

Author's Note: I went with a slightly "nontraditional" approach, mixing different wedding customs together as that's partially how I imagine things on No Man's Land to be (a blend of different Western (sorry) traditions), but I did lean more pagan and Celtic since I am self indulgent.

This has gotten a bit out of hand. You think to yourself as you look out the window at Kasted City. You can't believe how much the city has changed since you were last here. Repairs have been made, and everything looks as good as new. The last scars left by the bandit infestation have been wiped away completely. The city is thriving once again. You stand in the middle of the room on a chair, and the narrow window only reveals a small glimpse of the landscape. You lean forward, trying to see more, but immediately get pricked by a sharp needle.

"Ow!" you complain before settling back.

"I have told you time and time again to stand still! Stop fidgeting so much!" Granny scolds you as she makes the last alterations to your dress. "I'm almost done with the hem."

This was supposed to be just a little homecoming to fulfill your promise to Lena and Granny. Vash had sworn that when the time came for the two of you to finally tie the knot, they would be included. In your mind, it meant that you return to the toma farm, perhaps sign a piece of paper, and go to have a drink, but it turns out that word travels fast. Especially when it comes to the Humanoid Typhoon and his companion, who have touched many people's lives. Meryl made quite a fuss when she found out about your plan, and Milly was close to tears when she got the impression that they weren't welcome. So you assured them it would be nothing fancy, but if they wanted, they were more than welcome to join. You get the feeling that's where the cat got out of the bag.

When you got to the city this morning, you were greeted with a buzz of excitement and anticipation. You brushed it off as just something unrelated to your arrival, but as you made your way to Granny's ranch, it had been decorated with streamers and bows. Lena and Meryl were hanging up a giant sign adorned with both your and Vash's names, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You knew this was going to be a day to remember. While a hint of tread creeped into your soul, you turned your head to see your beloved fiance's face light up at the sight before him. A smile crossed his face, and you knew that whatever happened next, you would face it together. That's when Granny appeared, and after a warm welcome, you were separated from your dearest.

Granny and Lena had been working on a dress for you. It's simple but elegant and made with love. There are no extravagant embellishments, but you could see the care and effort put into every stitch. They also showed you the tiny pocket on the inside of your dress at the back of your neck that had a 5 cent piece in it. They did not, however, elaborate further.

From Granny's care, you move on to Meryl's, who makes you sit by the window to do your makeup. She chatters about all the preparations for the wedding as she carefully applies your lipstick. The others come and go, busy with preparations yet desperate to catch a glimpse of you.

"Done!" Meryl proudly proclaims, but she tilts her head and looks at you thoughtfully. "Something's missing…"

Her piercing gaze makes you nervous as you try to figure out what she is talking about. Suddenly, her eyes light up, and she reaches to remove her earrings.

"Here! These will work well! But I want them back!" She grins as she hands you the long golden earrings. You take them hesitantly as you look at them.

"Thank you, Meryl!" You smile up at her as you turn to the mirror and put them on.

"I see you have something borrowed. How about something blue?" A new voice speaks up from the door behind you, and you whip around in your chair.

"Luida!" you exclaim in surprise. She smiles her signature calming smile at you.

"It's good to see you again," she says and comes closer. "My, you look gorgeous!"

A slight blush colors your cheeks as you thank her for the compliment. Your eyes trail downward slightly, and you see something in her hand. Before you can ask, she lifts it up and removes some paper from around a brilliant blue bouquet made from the flowers she grows on Home.

"I meddled a bit with them; they should be preserved in time as they are, and hopefully they will never wither," Luida says softly as she hands you the beautiful flowers and you take a whiff. The scent is sweet and fresh, filling you with a sense of calm and happiness.

"I too have something for you," Milly says, coming closer with a slightly nervous look. "Or rather, Livio sent it with his apologies since he couldn't make it today."

"Oh, that's okay. Someone had to stay with the kids and birds." You smile, but then look at the little box Milly puts in your hand. "What's this?"

"Something old. Livio wanted you to have this since you and Mr. Priest were so close. He said he had this since the orphanage; apparently, it's the only thing he had from his birth parents. After he passed, Livio held on to it but always intended to give it to you." You hear the tears threaten to roll down her cheeks in Milly's voice. She has always been the emotional kind. You open the box, and inside you find a small cross pendant with no chain.

"Thank you, Milly! And give my gratitude to your dear husband too!" You smile at her reddening face as she tries to keep it together. You pick up a safety pin from the vanity and carefully fasten the cross to the inside of your dress's neckline, close to your heart.

"So, we have something old, something blue, something borrowed, and a 5 cent piece! We're only missing something new!" Granny said with glee, and before you could start to protest against any more gifts, Lena appears with a giant box.

"Lucky, we received a parcel a few days ago, and it's addressed to you!" She announces happily as she holds the box towards you. You hesitate for a moment, your fingers hovering at the edge of the box, before you remove the lid. The inside still doesn't give you a clue as to what this could be, as the item is carefully wrapped in paper, on top of which lays a small card. You pick it up to read it.

My dear!

The wonderful news has reached us here at Misdon! We are all so happy to hear that our two biggest heroes are getting married! You saved our lives and our livelihood! The whole town will forever remain in your debt, even if you didn't save the rest of the world too! We wish we could attend, but times have been busy, so we send you this gift. I hope you like it. Everyone pitched in and did a little bit!

Your friend,

Adeliene

You are reminded of your adventures in the mining town of Misdon, where bandits tried to take over the crystal mine. You and Vash had your hands full driving them out, and you had to personally protect Adeliene, the daughter of the mine owner. You even took a bullet for her. You carefully remove the paper to be greeted by a blinding shimmer. The sunlight from the window hits the content of the box and sends dots of light dancing all throughout the room. Everyone gasps at the sight. You touch the delicate translucent fabric and let your fingers run over the hundreds, if not thousands, of small crystals sown onto it. They look like constellations.

"This is gorgeous!" you whisper in awe as you continue to admire the intricate design.

"Alright! I can't wait to see it on you!" Lena seemingly shakes with excitement. "But first, we need to fix your hair!"

The young girl puts aside the box before quickly moving on to grab the hairbrush.

"We should get back! Let's make sure everything is perfect for the big day." Meryl announces and drags Milly away by the elbow, Luida quietly following them. You remain in the room with Granny and Lena, who fill your head with hairpins and finally fasten the veil to your hair.

"You are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen in my long life. We are truly blessed to call you part of the family, my love!" Granny squeezes your shoulders as you sit in your chair and gives you a kiss on the cheek. Gratitude swells in your chest as you thank Granny for her kind words and embrace her tightly.

"The big goofball is wholly your responsibility now!" Lena chuckles, giving you a playful nudge with her elbow.

As you are left alone in the room, you stand up and take a long look in the mirror. You can't help but feel a rush of excitement for what the future holds. Your face is covered by the light fabric, and as you let your fingers run over the delicate lace, the room is filled with sparkling lights dancing on every surface. This is not how you imagined the day going—to be surrounded by your friends and family, turning this day into possibly the most magical one of your entire life.

It doesn't take long for the music to start sounding from the parlor, signaling for you to make your entrance. So you head out through the backdoor as instructed and walk around the building to the large saloon style doors at the front of the house. The music sounds more clearly now and you can hear the chatter of the guests inside. You're not sure if Granny saw you from where she sits behind the piano or if someone else spotted you and signaled her, but the music changes. The beautiful melody has a different rhythm, and everyone knows to quiet down.

You take a deep breath and clutch the bouquet of flowers tightly. Two men push the sides of the doors and keep the doorway open for your entrance. All eyes turn to you, and gasps of adoration fill the space. The people standing on either side of the aisle are all people you've left a mark on. You have saved them in one way or another, and today they are here to pay their respects and celebrate with you. If you looked at them, you would see people from Kasted City and the neighboring villages, people from far and wide, but your eyes are on the dark haired man waiting for you at the end of the red carpet.

Vash's eyes are wide, and you can see the moment his lips part for a gasp. His gaze is so filled with love and adoration that you feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You can't believe this is happening to you. You have found such a wonderful man, and you're about to vow your everlasting devotion to each other in front of all these witnesses. And as you look into his eyes, you know that this is just the beginning of a beautiful journey together, despite everything you've been through already.

He wears a dark burgundy suit jacket, and you are sure Granny had a hand in his attire. From the chest pocket, poke out a few crystal flowers and small silver stars, catching the light and sparkling at you, mixed together with the blooms of red geraniums. He looks magnificent and handsome, and you can't help but smile at the thought of Granny and the others conspiring to make him look his best for this special occasion. You see the tears well in his eyes as he looks at your approach, and he takes half a step forward as if wanting to run towards you and lose the distance as soon as possible. However, he holds back, his emotions overwhelming him, and he lets out a small sob before brushing the tears away.

The tall windows on either side of the parlor cast light on you, and the warmth stroking your skin makes everything else fall away. In your mind, there is only you and him. Together, as always. As you reach him, a smile is painted on your face, so wide it almost hurts. He reaches out his hand, and you gently take it, feeling the electricity between your fingertips.

"My beautiful Stardust! You make the night sky jealous!" he says as the two of you stand there, basking in each other's presence, knowing that you are each other's forever.

Meryl, who has taken in her position as officiant, lets out a small cough to wake the two of you from your trance. You take another step forward without letting go of the man you love, ready to start the next chapter of your lives together.

Meryl begins the ceremony, speaking with a warm and calming voice that fills you with joy and excitement. She thanks the guests and begins to share heartfelt words about the love and dedication you both have shown towards each other. But you can barely hear her as you steal glances of the man standing beside you. His handsome silhouette and glimmering eyes as they meet yours fill you with butterflies. You can feel your heart racing with anticipation as he gently squeezes your hand.

"My dear friends, the bride and groom, I ask you to look into each other's eyes," Meryl speaks, and you turn to face your soon-to-be husband. The love and adoration in his eyes overwhelms you, confirming that you are about to marry the person of your dreams. He still holds your hand, but lifts it up a bit as he faces you. "Will you honor and respect one another and seek to never break that honor?"

"We will," you both say devotedly.

"Will you share each other's pain and seek to ease it?"

"We will."

"Will you share the burdens with each other so that your spirits may grow in this union?"

"We will."

"Will you share each other's laughter and look for the brightness in life and the positive in each other?"

"We will."

"Dear bride and groom, as you bind your souls together here, in front of people who adore you, may your spirits be joined in a union of love and trust. Above you are the stars, and below you is the earth. Like the stars, your love should be a constant source of light, and like the earth, it should be a firm foundation from which to grow. Let your love guide you through the darkest of times, and may it always be a beacon of hope in the storm. Do you have vows of your own you would like to share?"

"Yes," Vash speaks as his eyes stay on yours. "My love, you are the one person with whom I can share all that I am. I promise to trust you and to be honest with you. I promise to listen to you, respect you, and support you. I promise to laugh and play with you and grow and bend with you. I promise to cherish every day we have together. I promise to do all of this through whatever life brings us—richness or poverty, health or illness, through good times and bad—until the end of my days. And beyond this, I will cherish and honor you through this life and the next."

Lena steps forward with a small pillow, and Vash takes a golden ring from it. He releases your right hand, and you take your flowers into it so he can gently slide the ring onto the ring finger of your left hand. He bows down and places a small kiss on the band. You have Lena take your bouquet so you can tightly hold onto both of Vash's hands, feeling overwhelmed with love and joy.

"My love, I choose you. We shall walk side by side, through sunshine and storms, health and sickness, good times and bad. We will meet whatever comes together. Under the starry night sky and in the scorching desert heat. I promise to love you forever and a day. My love, I choose you to be my partner in life and always. Our love endures, forever and a day." You make your promises while looking into his tear filled eyes, your own vision blurring from the emotions too. You pick up the golden ring and slide it on his prosthetic hand. You whisper, "I will never leave your side, no matter what challenges come our way."

"And with that, I pronounce you husband and wife!" Meryl's cheerful voice sounds over the room. "You may kiss the bride!"

Vash carefully takes the edge of the veil between his fingers before he lifts it up, revealing your face completely. He lets the veil fall over your head and gently takes your face into his hands, planting a soft kiss on your lips to seal your marriage. You feel overwhelmed with love and happiness as you realize that this is just the beginning of your life together. The whole room erupts into cheers and applause, celebrating your love and new journey as a married couple.

As he pulls away, you look into his tender face, and he mouths a silent I love you. Lena hands back your bouquet, and hand-in-hand, you walk through the room again, now with Vash by your side. Feeling like the luckiest person in the world, you head out of the parlor as the people gathered throw colorful confetti at you. Further away, from the city's chapel, you hear bells echoing over the desert.

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