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#he’s not even in any of these but again. it’s the series’ name so
thefreakandthehair · 2 days
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I just wanna see that smile
wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss
a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!
Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since. 
Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something. 
Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile. 
Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy. 
Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy. 
Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers. 
“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck. 
Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page. 
“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”
“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.” 
Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around. 
Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there. 
“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him. 
“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.” 
The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive. 
Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm. 
They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.
“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?” 
Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.
“What are you worried about?”
“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor. 
“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual. 
“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.” 
Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back. 
“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.” 
“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”
“Yep.” 
He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands. 
“You’re serious.” Eddie says. 
“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases. 
“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?” 
Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.” 
Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.
“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?” 
The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull. 
Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear. 
“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”
fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.
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afterglowsainz · 2 days
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hi you said you were free to request someone you haven’t mentioned so i’m wondering if you’d be willing to write something for trent alexander arnold?? anything you won’t but i love angsty -> fluff
i look in people’s windows | trent alexander-arnold
summary: you struggle to move on from your break up with trent until one day you have to face him at your favorite coffee shop
warnings: none
word count: 1.2k
a/n: this wasn't very specific which was great (in a way) because the angst to fluff plot gave me an idea for my tortured athletes series! (i also didn't mean to make this so long, but i hope you enjoy it)
the tortured athletes department series
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you're not proud to admit that you still stalk your ex-boyfriend's friends on social media just to see a glimpse of him. it wasn’t that hard considering that you live in liverpool, if you wanted to see his face you just had to go outside and he will be there in any billboard. but there was something more personal about casually watching him on someone’s post. sometimes you just look up liverpool’s account to see him during matches or making fun challenges.
you consider blocking him, blocking his friends and everyone else remotely associated with him, you even did it for two full weeks, but it was impossible not to see him everywhere you look. sure, he was not showing up on your phone, but he was in the streets, he was on the tv playing a game, or acting in a random commercial; he was even in the supermarket next to a product he was the face of.
trent alexander-arnold was absolutely everywhere and he was impossible to escape.
so you unblock him and everyone else and you just see him. not everyday, of course, you weren’t gonna get over him if you stalked his socials every day.  maybe once every week you look up one account, and then another, and then another, and you see him, and once you do you turn your phone off and do something else and maybe, you forget about him for a moment.
sometimes you wonder what would happen if your eyes met one more time. would you realize you got over him? would you fall back in love? would he even say hello?
“what can i get you?” the barista behind the counter asks you.
“hi, an iced vanilla latte, please.” you smile. the guy nods and charges you, moving quickly to the next client.
you sit down in a booth while waiting for your name to be called, and play with your phone in the meantime. suddenly, a huge shadow blocks the natural light that was hitting your face and you shift your face from your phone to the stranger who sits in front of you, only it wasn’t a stranger at all.
“y/n.” trent whispers your name with a smile.
you were a bit shocked to see him in person, like it was the first time you lay your eyes on him all over again.
“hey.” you respond. he chuckles at your lack of words.
“i knew it was you the second i heard your voice.” he points at the register. “an iced vanilla latte as always.” he repeats your coffee order and only then you register the situation.
before you have a chance to say something, you hear your name being called throughout the whole coffee shop, announcing your order was ready.
“stay there.” he says before you have the chance to even stand up. “i’ll go get it.” you didn’t know what to say so you just nodded and he made his way to the front, claiming your coffee and getting it to you.
“thank you.” you say when he was finally in front of you again.
neither of you say anything for a few seconds. you didn’t feel uncomfortable at all, but it did feel odd to be there with him, not saying anything.
“nice jacket.” you mention, just to fill the silence.
“you like it?” he unconsciously touch it and smiles at you like he always did.
“mhm, it's pretty.” you take a sip from your coffee.
“i haven’t seen you in a while. how are you?” he asks.
you were about to answer when you got interrupted again by the barista calling his name to get his coffee. he quickly made his way to the front and back, sitting in your booth in no time.
“what is that?” you ask with a grimace, looking at his order. it was some sort of juice? you couldn’t really tell.
“it’s a pomegranate lemonade.” he shrugs. you arch a brow and he shakes his head smiling. “don’t look at me like that when you drink vanilla flavored coffee.”
a laugh escapes your lips and you just agree, still confused by his drink of choice but not making any more comments.
“how are you?” he repeats his question.
“good.” you lie to him. “you?”
“bad.” he says.
“oh?” this took you by surprise. “what happened?” you try to remember if maybe he lost any big game recently or if something happened to any friend of his, but you can’t remember anything of relevance.
“i just…” he exhales and takes a sip from his lemonade. “i’ve been missing you. a lot, actually. a bit more everyday.”
your face grows hotter by the confession and you just look at him without reacting.
“why are you saying this?” you ask the first thing that comes to your mind.
“because.” he shrugs. “why not? i’ve miss you so much since we broke up i can’t think of anything else, and now i feel like i’ve think you so much i actually manifested you and now we're both at the same coffee shop at the same time, i mean, what are the odds of that, you know?” he rambles and you feel your heart beating in your throat.
to be fair, this was the same coffee shop you both used to go to while you were still dating. and you both still live in the same city. and you’ve been stalking him on social media so you might’ve manifested him as well by accident.
“you woke up brave this morning, didn’t you?” you joke lightly and the shadow of a smile takes over his lips. “i didn’t know you still think about me.” you say instead of confessing your feelings back at him.
“you’re not an easy one to forget.” his eyes clocked in with yours and you felt like everything was the way it used to be.
why did you even break up in the first place? looking at his chocolate eyes you couldn’t even remember anymore. you finally clear your throat to speak, but he interrupts you.
“you don’t have to say anything right now,” he pleads. “i don’t… if you’re gonna say something that’s gonna break my heart for good, i don’t think i’m prepared to hear it just yet.”
his eyes look away from yours, but you’re still watching him.
“i think about you too.”
your voice was barely a whisper, but it was loud enough for him to hear it and look at your eyes, straight into your soul.
“we should talk, no?” you knew he was battling a triumphant smile but he kept a straight face for you. you nod. “wanna take a walk?” he points to the window with his head, but you shake your head.
“it’s too cold outside.” you say and he laughs, shaking his head as well.
“you and cold.” he rolls his eyes amused.
“hey.” you slap his arm playfully. “i have sensitive skin.” you defend yourself.
at that moment you felt grateful for this little plot from destiny that had brought you and trent together again. you didn’t have to wonder ‘what if, you didn’t have to avoid seeing him downtown, you didn’t have to look into people's windows anymore. his eyes meet yours one more time, and now you know.
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lillsisamarshmallow · 23 hours
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Hickeys, Houses, and Heated gazes (16)
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Summary: Y/n confronts Jungkook and this new 'discovery', whilst dealing with confronting opinions an awkward 'family' dinner ensures. Y/n learns a little more about her hybrids and they begin the search for their new house, but Jungkook doesnt seem to be the only jealous Hybrids that she has to deal with.
Word count: 6.5k
Warnings: Marking, Let me know if I missed any!
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“Jungkook!”
I scrambled my way out of the bathroom as after I yelled out his name, my feet almost slipped on the tiles as I rushed out, but I was just able to catch myself by gripping onto the door frame. My feet swung out whilst the top half of my body stayed glued to the wall as I hung on for dear life before trying to regain my balance and pull myself up. As I looked at the man in question, he was still fast asleep on the bed with his arms now wrapped around a pillow that had taken my place.
“Jungkook! Jungkook! Wake up you idiot!” I stomped my way over to the bed and started trying to shake him awake, but he kept sleeping calmly, simply rolling onto his back, and lifting his arm up to cover his face. Frustrated at him, I wacked him in his stomach a few times, not enough to hurt, but hopefully enough for him to wake up. Finally, he groaned and reached one hand up to his eye and rubbed it before opening them and perching himself up on his elbows as he looked at me tiredly.
“Hmm? What’s wrong Y/n?”
“Did you seriously give me a hickey, Jungkook?” I fumed as I pulled back the hoodie so it was clearly insight, his faced warped into confusion until he caught a glimpse of my neck and his face dropped slightly as he realised what was wrong, he sat up higher and I leaned in closer so he could get a better look at the damage he caused.
I caught the slight change in his expression from the corner of my eyes, so I pulled back to look at him fully. He still looked tired, but I could see that his once concerned slightly upturned mouth had now warped into a proud smirk as he kept his eyes locked onto my neck like he was admiring his work. He smirked.
“Kook!'' I softly yelled and wacked his shoulder with my hand. I took a step backwards and stood up straight, turning to the side, placing my hands on my lower back before pulling them up to grasp my head on the sides. “Are you kidding me?”
I turned to look back at him as I asked him again, he was sitting up on the side of the bed now as he faced me. He just smiled innocently at me, closing his eyes as he reached back to scratch that back of his head, his hair was a mess, pieces stuck out in all directions and it was just as fluffy as his dark brown rabbit ears that sat up straight on his head, ones slightly bent forwards. I sighed out in annoyance as I walked back to the bathroom and leaned over the sink to get a better look at the darker patch of skin on my neck.
I poked and prodded at it for a while, it was definitely a hickey with Jungkook’s teeth marks denting into my skin. I can't believe he did that. My face heated up from embarrassment as I leaned down to rest my elbows onto the basin and my head into my hands, I let out a loud sigh at the situation. How am I supposed to cover that up?
As I looked back up into the mirror, I could see the culprit in question standing behind me and staring right back at me, his boyish grin showing his bunny teeth made it hard to be mad at him. I turned around to face him as he took a step towards me so we were standing in front of each other. I sighed out loud as I leaned my head onto his chest, I moved my arms from my sides and rested them in front of me, wrapping them loosely around my stomach and crossing them over each other. Jungkook’s breathing caused me to move along with his chest, the silence was loud as I debated on what to do. I couldn't explain the emotions swirling inside of me, i felt uneasy and embarrassed about it, but i couldn't just ignore the butterflies in my stomach or how oddly captivating it was to look at, how i could feel my heartbeat in my throat and my chest felt impossibly tight, like a boa constrictor had found its next meal. Most of all, I couldn't ignore the twang of guilt that pulled at my heart. I let out a jagged breath that I held in for far too long as I stared down at our feet whilst not saying a word.
I tightened my arms over my chest and around to my sides as I looked up at him, he towered over me, but I didn't feel nervous.
“I can't believe you.” I muttered to him in disbelief as he just seemed to chuckle at me, he wasn't taking this seriously. Was I taking it too seriously? I mean, it's just a hickey, it’ll go away, but… I grunted as I kept thinking about it. 
“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He said with a shy smirk still on his face. He was not sorry. I rolled my eyes and faced away from him. I felt him lean in closer to my neck, his fingers grazing ever so lightly over the spot, he seemed unexplainably happy as he admired his handy work until I swatted his hand away.
“How am I supposed to hide this, Jungkook?” I whined whilst pointing at the spot.
“Hide it? Why would you hide it?” He asked genuinely.
“Because-”
A knock on the door tore us both away from the conversation as I turned and balanced on one foot as I poked my head out of the bathroom to see the door. Jisoo’s voice came through the door as she started talking.
“Y/n? Jungkook? Are you guys awake? I just wanted to let you know that we’ll be having dinner soon. If you're still asleep, I'll set some aside for you both.”
I yelled out to let her know that we would be down soon, she said okay, then I heard her footsteps disappear down the hallway. 
Abandoning mine and Jungkook's conversation, I moved away from him and began to grab out something more decent to wear rather than just this hoodie from my bag. I grabbed all my clothes and made my way over to the bed, but just as I was about to pull the hoodie over my head, I remembered the other person in the room.
“Out.” I said to him as I began ushering him towards the door so I could get changed in peace, he acted confused and wanted to argue with me as I tried pushing him to the door.
“What? Why? I was here last time.” He suggested, like it was no problem at all. My face went red as I remembered him showing up out of nowhere after I got changed before my nap.
“Yeah-well, this is ‘this time’ and I say, no.” I declared as I finally got him on the other side of the door. I closed the door as he stood on the other side with a cheeky grin, I huffed out before telling him that I would meet him downstairs in a bit.
I quickly changed and decided to tidy up my hair so it would sit over the mark, to cover it since it was way too dark to cover up with simple makeup and wearing a scarf inside would only cause more curiosity from the other people in the house. I spent way too long trying to make sure my hair was in the right place before I finally headed down into the kitchen. Everyone turned to me as I made my way over to the only spare seat left, I smiled as I sat down in my seat, Jungkook was to my left and Jimin sat to my right. 
Me and Jisoo fell into conversation as we ate the food, the boys and Jennie and Lisa stayed quiet for the most part, occasionally chipping in to whatever we were chatting about something they found interesting, or that they knew about. Something was definitely off, all the hybrids, even Jennie and Lisa, seemed to be on edge about something, the boys looked almost nervous, and the girls appeared to be irritated at something. 
I’ll have to ask the boys if they're okay later. I thought to myself.
The whole night Jungkook had kept messing with my hair, trying to pull it to the opposite side, which would have made his mark visible, I did my best to act calm and like nothing was wrong as I quickly moved one hand to cover my neck and the other to put my hair back in place, unfortunately, Jimin, who was sitting right next to me, had noticed the back and forth between me and Jungkook. 
I could feel eyes on me, but whenever I tried to find who they belonged to everyone seemed to be doing their own things. I quickly whacked Jungkook on the hand as he tried it again, moving my hair to the other shoulder. I fully turned to face him as I looked up into his brown eyes.
“Seriously, Jungkook. Stop it!” I hissed quietly, only for his ears to hear, as I was becoming increasingly more annoyed at this game of his. As I was locked in a stare down with the bunny, who just looked back at me cheekily, I was shocked when I felt someone's fingers lightly brush over the other side of my neck. I jumped and pulled back before turning to face the other way, Jimin still had his hand held out from where he was touching my neck, his face said it all, he had seen it.
He wore a shocked expression with a slight hint of hurt and jealousy, his mouth was open, and I quickly signal to him ‘zip it’. I moved my hair back to the right side and tried to get back to having a normal dinner. As I turned to focus my attention back on the table, everyone's eyes seemed to be looking at the 3 of us.
My face heated up from embarrassment and I tried to play it cool. I coughed a bit to break the silence before starting up a random conversation with everyone to hopefully drag the attention away from me and the two men next to me.
“So…How was everyone’s day?”
Everyone was looking down at their plates of food, the only sound in the air after my question was the sound of knives scratching against the china plates and some people chewing. The silence was awkward, and the tension was thick for what was supposed to be a regular household dinner.
“Well, someone got run over at work today.” I heard Jisoo speak up from her seat, I stared at her for a second, trying to see if she was joking, she was not. She didn't say anything else, and the room quickly plunged back into the awkward feeling.
Desperate to escape this atmosphere I made another attempt to have a normal conversation. “Jisoo, this tastes great! Is it a family recipe?”
Jisoo smiled back at me before attempting to answer. “Thanks! Yeah, my parents taught me how to cook-”
“So, how did you guys meet Y/n?”
We all turned to the voice that had interrupted Jisoo before she could finish, Lisa sat in her seat next to Jennie with a polite and curious smile on her face, but her eyes seemed to hold an ulterior motive. 
I swallowed the food I was halfway through chewing, and it felt like it made the loudest noise, before awkwardly looking around slightly at the others. That question was very out of nowhere and it wasn't mine to answer. I looked over to Namjoon, who sat next to Jin. He seemed taken aback by the question and did not appear to be interested in answering it as he looked down at his food and kept pushing it around on the plate.
“It’s a long story.” Jimin spoke up, sarcasm in his voice, he seemed overly annoyed and i was sure it wasn't just from the question.
“We have time, don't we?” Lisa asked innocently while looking between Jennie and Jisoo, while nodding her head letting Jimin know that she was more than willing to sit and listen to their story.
“It’s not all that interesting.” Jimin shot back, attempting to shoot her down sharply. “Why so interested?”
The room held an odd tension, I looked between the two, by eyes following whoever was talking. Lisa seemed to be digging for something, but I'm not sure what, and Jimin seemed to know as well, he was very quick to shut her down and her attempts to ask again. I was slow as I cut through my food again, but I couldn't bring myself to eat as I felt nervous.
“Well, what can I say? I’m just a curious person.” Lisa leaned forward and placed her elbow onto the table next to her cup and rested her face onto her palm, she tapped her fingers on her cheek as she stared with an overly curious gaze directed towards Jimin.
“Don't you know curiosity killed the cat?”
My knife slipped out from between my fingers and clattered onto my plate making a loud noise, I winced slightly at the sound before I, and everyone else, turned to look at the fox hybrid who had spoken, my mouth was opened in shock as I looked at the end of the table where he sat. He gave her a sharp glare which sent shivers down my spine, his face showed no signs of joking and the way he had spoken was warningly and laced with venom. I hope he never looks at me like that…
 My jaw was slack as I watched the exchange between the two. Hobi played it calmly, but gave her one of the most dominating stares I had ever seen. Lisa’s eyes widened as she picked herself up from her relaxed position to sit up straighter, her ears twitched and her tail flicked up around her as her face hardened, no longer filled with her playful curiosity and mischief. I quickly glanced over to Jisoo, who was sitting across from me, and we shared a quick look of surprise and confusion.
Dinner continued to be just as awkward as we sat in mostly silence for the rest of the meal, utensils scraping against plates, chewing and occasionally someone asking to pass something that they couldn't reach. Thankfully it was over soon, even though it felt like hours, the dinner only lasted around half an hour, we all helped put our dishes away and clean up afterwards, no one speaking, Lisa had stomped her way back up to her room leaving Jennie with her dishes.
Jimin had ushered me and Jungkook back into our room where he quickly turned the lights on before pulling me closer to him by my arm. He moved his hand off my arm and lifted it up to grip my hair and hold it up away from my neck, almost like a makeshift ponytail. He hastily lifted his other hand up to my neck where I could feel his finger linger over the area.
His fingers just barely touch my skin as they brush over the sensitive spot, I could feel his hot breath fanning down onto my neck and chest causing a chill to run through my body. Suddenly, a surge of pain ripped through me from my neck. Jimin had pushed his fingers hard onto the purple spot on my neck causing me to hiss in pain as I roughly pulled myself away from him. 
My hand snapped up to cover the spot to stop him from doing it again. I gave Jimin a ‘what the heck?’ look, but he had already turned to face the younger man who was standing just a bit behind me. Jungkook seemed to have a mix of emotions on his face, proud, but also scared, Jimin walked a few steps over to him until they were standing right in front of each other with Jungkook towering over the older one.
“What the heck, Kook?” Jimin seethed as they looked at each other, now completely ignoring my presence. Jimin had this aura around him, like he was trying to intimidate the younger male, it actually made me feel a bit nervous.
“I had to!” The bunny hybrid whined, and he sulked and dropped his shoulders down. He didn't seem remorseful at all, he seemed 100% serious and almost proud of himself.
“You had to?”
“Yes!”
Jimin deadpanned as he looked at Jungkook.
“Hyung.” Jungkook dramatically threw his head back as he whined and laughed at the same time before taking small steps towards the older man.
Jimin tsked and muttered something through his gritted teeth as he looked away from Jungkook, the latter pulled himself up to stand properly in front of the short man.
“It’s fine, Jimin.” I said, hoping to calm them down and not have this escalate further. “Even though it hurts, I’ll be fine, it's just a hickey.”
I glared daggers at Jungkook as I emphasised on the word ‘hurt’ before looking back at Jimin. He spun around as he looked at me questioningly.
“A what?”
Before I had time to restate what I had said the door burst open as the other hybrids made their way inside the room with us, Hobi and Jin walked over to stand by me and Namjoon and Yoongi stood next to Jimin, I saw Taehyung make his was to the back standing next to Jungkook.
“What is going on?” Yoongi asked the younger blond male who stood in front of him, he seemed concerned, but still remained calm.
“He marked her.” Jimin grunted as he stood to the side and pointed at Jungkook who gave a cheeky grin showing off his bunny teeth. I saw the older hybrids face warp into one of shock at what they had heard. Before I could process what Jimin had said I was suddenly bombarded by the other hybrids.
I was beginning to feel like an art piece in a museum as I let them move my head to the side so they could see the unfortunate spot on my neck. I looked off to the side of the room with a bored expression as I let them ‘inspect’ the ‘oh so magical hickey’ that had somehow caught all of their attention. I sighed out loud hoping to convey the fact that I wanted this to be over with, I don't know why it’s such a big deal to them.
 I yelped out in pain. I felt someone push their thumb a bit too hard into the dark, sensitive flesh on my neck, I pulled away and took a few steps towards the wall before I turned to face them.
“Okay, that’s enough.” I spoke as I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at the boys who all seemed to get the hint and moved back a few steps. I watched as Taehyung walked over to Jungkook and lifted his hand up for a high five, to which the younger man gladly returned. The older of the two smirked as they looked at each other and the younger gave him a cheeky grin and they seemed to have a very quiet conversation, one that I couldn't hear.
I rolled my eyes at the 2 youngest before I turned to look at the others who seemed to be talking about something before Yoongi broke from the group and walked over to Jungkook. He stood next to the bunny hybrid before raising his hand and whacking him on the back of the head. “Idiot.”
I tried to hold in my laughter at what happened, but soon after Jin walked over to them as well. He lightly hit Yoongi on the shoulder before saying something to him that I didn't catch. They fell into a discussion over the matter as they all came and stood in the middle of the room. I tried to talk with them and pitch in my thoughts, but they seemed to completely forget that I was even there.
“It’ll go away soon, it's just a hickey.” I spoke trying to diffuse the tension, finally they had heard me. They all turned to look at me with confused glances before they continued on with their conversations. Everyone seemed annoyed at Jungkook, and I watched as whenever he would suggest something he was immediately shut down, making him pout. 
“Well, did you ask her?” Yoongi said to Jungkook, he looked away at the question and Yoongi sighed as he rubbed his face into his hands. “Kook-”
“If i didn't do it they would have, and you know it. Besides, she didn't mind. Right?” Jungkook looked over to me as he asked the question, I was confused and tried to answer, but I was cut off as Namjoon started speaking to him about me.
“She doesn't understand it! How could she be okay with it? She doesn't seem okay with it.” He called out. “You…You should have at least told us and asked her.”
“I think I know what a hickey is, Namjoon.” I expressed, slightly offended, that they didn't think I knew what a simple hickey was. I was beginning to feel a bit annoyed at how they kept cutting me off and talking about me like I wasn't there.
“Stop calling it a hickey! It is not just a hickey Y/n. He marked you!” Jimin yelled as he moved his hands around in front of him before lifting them up to sit on his forehead, his fingers shading over his face as he turned around and paced for a bit before stopping.
Marked me?
“He marked me?” I wondered out loud, I didn't really know much about marking, I knew it was something that hybrids did, but that was about it. “What does that mean?” I asked quickly, growing tired of not understanding things.
“It’s uhh, it’s like…” Hobi began to explain, but he kept fumbling over his words like he wasn't sure how to phrase it.
“He marked you as his.” Yoongi said bluntly. I scoffed because I had already gathered that much from what Jimin had said, but then Yoongi said more. “It’s telling other hybrids to back off because you're theirs, you already have a hybrid.”
I didn't say anything as I thought about what Yoongi had said. He marked me as his? Why? He wants other hybrids to ‘back off’, what does that even mean? My thoughts continued to run rampant in my mind as I was processing this new information, I moved my hand up to rest under my chin as I rubbed my lips with my index finger.
I moved my hand from my chin to my neck as I subconsciously covered up the mark while still in thought, I caught movement in the corner of my eye causing me to break from my thoughts and look over. Jungkook looked a bit agitated, and he flinched when I moved my hand to cover up his mark.
“Don’t.” I turned to face Namjoon as he grabbed hold of my hand and pulled it down away from my neck. “He doesn't want you covering it up, it's almost like you're rejecting him if you do. Marks are important to hybrids.” Namjoon spoke softly and clearly, he knew that I didn't understand, and he was giving me time to process it by talking slower.
I looked down at my hands, I watched as Namjoon let his grip on my hand lift away as he took his hand back, I dropped my hands down to my sides before pulling them behind my back, I looked up at everyone and smiled.
“Okay, I won't cover it up.” I declared as I grinned at Jungkook who seemed to be bursting with excitement. I told him that if he did it again, or something similar, he needed to at least tell me what he was doing, I didn't want to end up getting dragged into something that I didn't understand again. The boys gave Jungkook a form of silent treatment for the most part, they were petty and wanted him to feel guilty. I joined in too for the most part because I thought it was funny to watch him try get attention.
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I was sitting down on the bed and Jin was sitting on the floor between my legs as I played with his hair, putting it up in a lopsided ponytail and attempting to braid it. I stopped when I started thinking about the dinner we had earlier.
“I’m sorry. I didn't realise that bringing you guys here would be such a problem.” I said aloud. Everyone turned to look at me, including Jin who had pulled away from my hands just as I was about to finish typing the hair tie. I pouted at him as he ruined the hair style.
“What? What do you mean?” Hobi asked me from his spot on the desk chair that he was sprawled out on as he used one leg to spin it side to side, I smiled slightly at his silly pose.
“Well, you guys don't seem to get along very well with Jennie and Lisa, which is fine of course!” I started while pushing Jin's head to face the other way so I could continue on with my masterpiece. “You don't have to like them obviously. If I had known I would've tried harder to find somewhere else. Is it just some hybrid thing that I'm too human to understand?”
I chuckled as there seemed to be more and more things about hybrids that I just didn't understand.
“No, it’s nothing like that, it's just-” Jimin started to explain when a random thought popped into my head and I couldn't help myself.
“Wait, are you guys… jealous? Of Lisa and Jennie? Is that what it is?” I asked almost jokingly, but the silence in the room told me that I'd just solved the riddle.
“What? No, Y/n! It’s not that-”
“Oh my goodness, it totally is! Everytime they get close to me, one of you comes and scares them away.” I exclaimed as I thought of all the times that they had done just that, I let go of Jin’s hair as I raised my hands up to cover my mouth while I smiled ear to ear and giggled at how red their faces were from me figuring it out.
“Uhm… we’re sorry.”
“It’s fine. I don't mind, really.” I said as I couldn't contain my wide smile as I felt butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Part of me wanted to push them back down to wherever they came from, but the other part of me relished in the feeling. I picked up another hair band before tying it and giving Jin 2 cute pigtails on either side of his head. “Besides, it's kinda cute that you guys get jealous over me.” 
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The house was quiet, Jisoo had gone out with Lisa and Jennie, so it was just the boys and me. I was sitting in the lounge room, a thick warm blanket wrapped around my shoulders as I sat on the floor, my back against the couch and my knees crossed as I leaned forwards over the coffee table. My laptop was open, and the many tabs were on clear display as I kept swapping between them all, the table and floor was covered with various pieces of paper with the details of different places that checked the boxes that absolutely need to be checked, I reached for my thermos filled with hot chocolate and took a sip from it.
A noise from the kitchen dragged me away from the house hunting as I turned and tried to make myself taller to see who it was, I couldn't see their face, but I did catch a glimpse of around black ears, I quickly swallow the hot liquid and put down the thermos as I yelled out trying not to choke.
“Wait!” I scrambled to stand up as I tried not to disrupt the papers on the table. I turned to face the panther hybrids as I spoke. “Perfect timing! Could you get everyone else to come down here?”
He gave me a small salute before turning the corner and walking away. I fell back down onto the floor and wrapped the blanket around myself again as I heard his footsteps echo through the house as he jumped up the stairs. Soon enough everyone had made it down to the lounge room where they did their best to find somewhere to sit without disrupting any of the somewhat organised papers.
“Okay, so…” I started as I grabbed a handful of papers that had what seemed to be the best choice of houses on them with all their information. I passed them to Namjoon who sat to my left and told him to pass them around. “I've been looking for houses, a new place for us to live, because as grateful as I am for Jisoo allowing us to stay here, if I get walked in while I'm changing one more time, I'm going to get ptsd.” I heard a few of the boys chuckle at what I had said, but I was only half joking. 
“Since this is the first time that we’ve really spoken about this, I wasn't sure what you all wanted in a house, I did make a list of things that I think we need, but feel free to add to it or take something off of it.” I said again as I passed out a notepad and pen that had all the things I was looking for in a house.
I saw Jimin reach for my thermos in front of me, but I quickly reached for it too, snatching it out of his hands. He looked at me sadly and with confusion and I looked back at him. “It's hot chocolate. You can't have it.” He seemed surprised before he smiled back at me and whispered a thanks as he looked down at the piece of paper that had been handed to him.
“5 bedrooms?” Yoongi asked from beside Namjoon as he looked at me.
“Yes, I thought 5 bedrooms would be ideal. You guys get one big room to share to sleep in, and I thought you could have 3 other rooms to kind of do your own things, you know?” I explained to them as I pointed it out in my notes that I struggled to find amongst the other papers. “And then a room for me.”
“Sounds good to me, you've really thought this out, Y/n.” Hoseok beamed in gratitude as he passed the small notepad to the person on his left. I thanked him before talking about how it had been on my mind for a while and how 5 bedrooms made the most sense for what we needed. 
I reached for the notepad as it made its way back to me, my eyes skimmed over my note and the small words on the sides until I read the new suggestions that the boys had written down. “Large backyard? That’s good, I should've thought of that.” I mumbled, thankfully most of the houses, except for one or two, had decent backyards already. “Trampoline? What? We don't need a trampoline.”
I heard someone sigh out loud at my last comment causing me to giggle.
“Won’t a house this big be expensive?” Jin mumbled from behind me.
“Yeah, but I got it covered, don't worry.”
“We want to help, Y/n.” Namjoon said. “We don't want you to have to keep paying for everything.”
I hummed at what he said, understanding the feeling of not always wanting people to do things for you, I understood that feeling all too well. I thought about what he said, and he was right, I had been paying for everything, I didn't mind but I didn't think about how that might have affected them.  “Well, how about I pay for the house initially, but after that we can split the cost for everything between the 8 of us?”
Everyone seemed to agree with that. As we continued looking at the different houses that I had chosen, throwing some out and choosing our favourite, I made some calls and sent some emails so I could set up viewings. We had a few lined up for the rest of the week now, as we all decided who would be going with me to each viewing. After some time, everyone went back to what they were doing before, I was still in the lounge room along with Jimin.
I sighed as I flopped down onto the couch and instantly, I felt my muscles relax. I leaned my head on some cushions as my fingers played with the bottom of my shirt making it ride up and expose part of my stomach. A gush of cold air came through the room causing me to pull my shirt down further, I went to reach for my blanket from before, but Jimin stood in front of me, a smile on his face as his head tilted to the side, his golden ears folded over, one with a kink making it fold inside out.
I laughed at the cuteness of the man in front of me as he stepped closer. “What's up?” I asked him as I reached a hand out towards him, which he held onto.
He hummed, stepping closer to the couch before kneeling down on it, between my legs and flopping down onto my stomach. I coughed as the air left my lungs and I let out a breathless laugh as he wiggled himself to get more comfortable. 
“Nothing.” He mumbled, he turned his head up to face me with a silly smirk on his face, which left my stomach feeling uneasy. I tried to play it off by letting a small chuckle leave my chest as I looked into his brown eyes, I could feel my face heating up as I gazed back at him.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked him as I covered my face with my hands to hide from his alluring gaze. I heard him laugh out loud, I braved peeking through my fingers to hopefully catch a glimpse, as my fingers separated and the light reached my vision, I saw him staring right back at me, I couldn’t help the small yelp that left my chest at seeing him staring right back at me.
He chuckled and I felt him shuffle around again before I felt his hands wrap themselves around mine, he pulled them down and away from my face causing me to look right at him. His loving smile on full display as his eyes curved into crescent moons, my breath hitching in my throat at the view. 
I kept staring at him as he opened his eyes to look back at me, my stomach felt funny as I watched him shake his head whilst smiling, his blond hair flopping around on top of his head as he leaned down to fully rest on top of me. I felt his arms wrap around my side and his fingers wiggled their way underneath my back as he pushed himself closer to me, I could feel his chest moving against my stomach from his breathing, he faced towards the back of the couch, and I could just barely see his face as he closed his eyes and nudged the side of his face further into my chest.
The uneasy feeling in my stomach didn't go away, it got bigger and harder to contain as it felt like it was bursting and filling with butterflies, I could help the deep blush that appear on my face or the wide smile that spread on it, the smile was so wide it started to hurt, but I couldn't bring myself to stop. I gazed down at the Dog hybrid as he rested, I move my hand up and snaked my fingers into his soft hair and lightly played with it as I looked up to the ceiling, my chest hurt from the strong feelings of happiness as I continued to play with Jimin’s hair while he rested in silence.
I stayed on the couch with Jimin laying between my legs for what felt like hours. His head rested on my chest as I softly played with his hair and his ears. The days were getting colder recently so I was happy to be around hybrids all the time. Jimin’s body heat covered me, and in turn, warmed me up. Slowly he moved his head so he was looking at me. I stopped with my movements as I stared into his eyes.
He shuffled himself around, so he was laying on his stomach and he moved himself further up and closer to my face without breaking eye contact. My breath hitched in my throat as he looked into my eyes, I studied his face as he was so close to me.
“You’re staring again.”
“I-”
“It’s okay. I don't mind.” He cut me off before I could defend myself, I smiled back at him before attempting to cover my face up again with my hand, but he intertwined his finger with mine, stopping me from covering my face. I whined and tried to pull my hand away from him, but he wasn't going to let go.
“You're so cute, Y/n.” He teased, moving his arms so he could sit up. His hair hung over his head along with his ears and he smiled down at me. I tried to break away from him as I saw his free hand move towards my sides, but his hold on me was strong. He kept spitting out compliments while poking and prodding my ribs with his other hand.
“Jimin!” I whined out the end of his name. I was embarrassed by his teasing, but I couldn't help the smile that spread on my face and the laugh that left my mouth as he kept tickling me. Finally, the torture stopped and I took a second to catch my breath. I looked up at the culprit, his teeth on full display as he had a wide smile on his face.
I stared up into his eyes as he stared down at me, I watched as his eyes moved down slightly before flicking back up to my eyes. My eyes caught onto his lips, plump, full, and dusted with a light pink, I looked back up to his eyes, but I could stop myself from glancing down at his lips every few seconds and I could see he kept looking down at mine as we shared deep breaths while looking at each other, we didn't say anything, just watching each other and taking in the others actions.
“Hey, do you guys know where the remote is?”
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A/n: The long awaited, off schedule chapter is finally here! This chapter came out great and i loved writing it, sorry for the wait again, i wasn't sure how to finish it off, but i think it ended pretty well. 🤭🥰Also! I made a mood board for Y/n because i thought it would be fun, it'll be on my profile, probably the post before this one. I feel like Jisoo house is driving Y/n mad with all the jealous hybrids lmao. I hope you all have a lovely day or night and thankyou all for the reading! 💜
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lemoncrushh · 2 days
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Through the Wall
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Summary: Harry is your handsome neighbour, and you keep hearing him through the wall.
A/N: This is short little one shot I wrote and posted last year to try to get my mojo back, so sorry if it seems familiar.
Warnings: Masturbation and sexual noises.
Word Count: 1.7k
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He was at it again. The man next door.
Harry. That was his name. You’d learnt it a week or so ago when you’d come home with multiple bags of food and he’d offered to hold the door and carry a few upstairs for you. But that hadn’t been the first time you’d seen him. You’d been admiring him from afar for weeks, sneaking peeks when he’d go out for his morning run, or when he was checking his post. You’d decided long ago that he was attractive, though you’d still been too shy to give him more than a meek smile.
But more than just getting a quick view of him on his way in or out the building, you heard him. A lot.
The building you shared with Harry was a former tenement, an old run-down series of flats from the seventies that had recently been upgraded and remodeled. Though the insides resembled modern apartment living, the walls still remained paper-thin. And recently you’d deduced that your bedroom wall was one that you shared with your handsome neighbour. Harry.
You hadn’t realised what it had been at first, the sound coming from behind the wall. You’d just returned to your room after a shower, ready to retire for the evening and crawl into bed early. The sound had started low at first, like a deep grumble. At first you thought perhaps your neighbour was talking on the phone, his demeanor soon sounding disgruntled, his volume growing through the wall. It wasn’t until you’d turned out the light that you heard a second voice. A female voice.
Just brilliant, you’d thought sarcastically. He has a woman in there with him.
Perturbed that he’d chosen to entertain a female on the evening you’d decided to go to bed before ten, you considered grabbing your headphones, or even some earplugs. But that was when the grumbling grew into deep moans. Had you any doubts before that the man’s bedroom was directly on the other side of the wall of your own, they certainly dissipated when you heard the knock of the headboard. Felt it, even.
Nearly ready to leap out of bed and find those God forsaken earplugs, you suddenly heard him speak.
“Oh, God!” he cried from the other side of the paper-thin wall.
Perhaps it was the desperate tone in his voice, or maybe the heavy breathing you heard afterwards, but your ears perked up then. As he continued to moan, you were no longer irritated by the sounds, but rather titillated by them. The search for anything to plug your ears dismissed, you laid in your bed and allowed yourself to have a private…concert.
You realised as the noises and moans increased, you heard less of the female tone. You thought this interesting since in your experience, women tend to be a little louder in bed than men. You wondered if she was sucking him off when you heard the headboard hit the wall again.
“Jesus!” Harry gasped at almost the same time you did. “Oh, fuck! Yes, baby….yes…ohhhh…”
Giggling to yourself, you listened as your neighbour came down from his orgasm, his heavy breaths slowing to a shaky sigh.
Well, he certainly sounds satisfied, you thought. Lucky girl.
That had been the first time you’d heard Harry through the wall. But it certainly wasn’t the last. The irony of it was that each time you heard him, you could have sworn there was someone else in the room with him. But the next morning, when you would open your flat door and head for the stairs, Harry would sometimes emerge from his own door…alone.
Not that the guest couldn’t have left during the night, or even directly after their shag. That was definitely possible. You just found it…odd that no one - male nor female - lingered near his flat to give him a goodbye kiss. Instead, he would smile at you, sometimes offer you a chipper greeting and wish you a pleasant day.
This particular day - a Saturday - you’d headed out that morning for an errand when you’d spotted Harry returning from his morning run.
“Good morning, Y/N,” he waved, his shirt stained with sweat, his thick thighs peeking out from his black running shorts. Damn him. The fact that he remembered your name was bad enough. Now you’d be forced to imagine him behind the wall, sweat dripping from his brow, his wet skin glistening like it was now.
When you returned home, you’d barely unloaded your items from the supermarket when you started to hear the familiar noises.
Bloody hell!, you thought. It’s the middle of the damn day!
Nevertheless, when you walked into your bedroom, Harry’s moans were intense and lusty. And just like the last time, which had only been the previous night, you found yourself turned on, squeezing your legs together to hold in your desire. As you sat on the bed to listen more closely, you could hear Harry mumbling something, though you couldn’t make out the words. Harry panted, his deep moans turning into desperate cries. You began to feel more and more wetness between your legs until you finally rose from the bed to strip.
“Fuck it all!” you exclaimed as you climbed back onto your mattress, facing the wall. Your right hand quickly made its way to your already soaking pussy while you braced yourself against the wall with your left.
Whilst Harry continued his sexy sounds, you imagined you were the guest in his room, the one who was making him feel this way - so insatiably horny until he was completely fucked out of his mind.
“Oh, God,” he cried out again. “Yeah, fuck me, baby.”
With a grin, you paused the stroking with your hand to reach for your bedside table. Opening the drawer, you pulled out your special friend. Happy to oblige, you pretended your girthy toy was your neighbour, whom no doubt was just as girthy. A girl knows these things.
As you slowly lowered yourself onto your dildo, you let out a gasp. Even in your wet state, it always took a little adjusting. But once you were there, you returned your hand to the wall, imagining Harry was inside you. Your jaw slack, your eyes rolling back in your head, you let all inhibitions go. You cursed out loud when Harry did, allowing yourself the pleasure. When your arm could no longer hold you up, you sat back on your knees, your free hand pinching your nipple.
When you heard Harry’s headboard hit the wall, you could feel your own release coming soon. Your thighs weakening and burning, you grabbed hold of your pillow as you fucked the toy harder into your dripping cunt.
“Oh, fuck, Harry!” you called out.
Oops. That was loud, you thought. Had he heard you?
You paused - for only a moment though your throbbing pussy would beg to differ - and you could have sworn Harry stopped too. Was he finished? You hadn’t heard him come.
Deciding to at least finish yourself off, you started pumping again, the “Harry” dildo fucking you in just the right spot. You gasped and moaned again, this time not caring about the volume. That was when you heard a chuckle.
At least…you thought you did.
“Yeah, babe, you’re so hot.” You definitely heard that. “Fuck me, just like that.”
Your moans become more feral, you lifted yourself up onto your knees again, your hand finding the wall. You scooted closer, until your ear was almost pressing against it. You wanted to hear him come. Needed to.
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” you heard him ask.
You licked your lips as you imagined the query was for you. Another moan escaping your lips, you sped up your hand.
“You like when I fuck you like this, baby?”
Biting your bottom lip, you nodded, but another cry sounded from your chest.
“Yeah, your pretty pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, innit? Just for me.”
“Yes!” you shouted, just as a thunderous orgasm ripped through your entire body. “Oh, God!”
Thighs trembling, palms sweating, you were no longer able to hold yourself up. You cried Harry’s name several times until it turned into a whisper as you slid down the wall to your pillows.
A low, guttural moan sounded from Harry’s side of the wall followed by a handful of expletives. Then he let out another chuckle.
“That was incredible, babe.”
Incredible, indeed. Though…now that you were coming down from your high, you finally admitted that he’d heard you. He knew it was you.
Holy shit!
Scrambling from the bed, you took a quick shower, wrapping yourself in a massive, plush towel. Laying on your bed, you pondered the idea that Harry might have been trying to tease you all along. Perhaps it was his game.
Dehydrated, you walked to the kitchen for a glass of water. Your brain was still trying to process everything that had just happened when a knock sounded on the door.
“Um…who is it?” you called from the other side without opening it.
“It’s your neighbour, love. Harry.”
Of course it was.
“Oh, um…okay, just a minute!”
Running to the bedroom, you threw on a pair of leggings and an oversized tee before hesitantly opening the door, greeting your neighbour with a weak smile.
“Hi,” he grinned. “Sorry to bother you. I got some of your post by mistake.”
“Oh,” you said, a bit confused as you handed you a couple letters. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Well…again, didn’t want to trouble you. Have a nice evening.”
“Um…same to you,” you gulped.
Harry was just about to turn away, your hand on the door as you stood baffled, when he stopped and pinched his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger.
“By the way…” he started, his words trailing off.
“Yes?”
“Uh…this is kinda awkward, but…I’m a single guy and don’t know many people yet in this area. But I’m cooking dinner, and it’s far too much for one person. Would you…like to join me?” he gestured toward his door.
Your eyebrows lifted high as your jaw dropped. “Dinner? At your flat?”
“Yeah. That is…if you want to.”
You smiled at him as a sigh of relief escaped your chest. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
“Good,” he beamed before he leant forward, his forearm resting on your door frame. “I reckon it’s better than communicating through the wall.”
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It was late and I was feeling things, so I decided to repost this. Hope you enjoyed :).
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dancingtotuyo · 6 hours
Text
High Infidelity Part V
Joel Miller x Female Reader
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Rating: Mature Explicit
Summary: Tommy is released, but he only pushes you further into Joel's arms.
Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child
Warnings: prison, mentions of war, fighting, LOTS OF TEARS, emotional and physical affair, cheating boundaries, smut (P in V), Oral sex (F receiving)
Notes: And so we reach the end of this story. I know there's a lot to wrap up. Thank you all for all your amazing comments and thoughts over the last month. It really means the world to me.
I know I say this every chapter but a huge thanks to @janaispunk and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin. They have beta'ed every chapter one top of listening to me scream about this story for hours over the course of months! I adore you both so much
Words: 7234
Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources
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They warn you that Tommy’s transition home will be difficult. An adjustment period they call it. You prepare for him to struggle, thinking he would try to leave the house in search of trouble, but it’s the opposite. Joel picks him up from work in the morning and drops him off in the evening. Then he goes out on the back deck and drinks sitting out there in utter silence. At first, you join him, letting Nathaniel play in the backyard but he refuses to talk, hardly looks your way. Sometimes he tracks Nathaniel, but not all the time. He seems so far away, like he had those first couple months home after Desert Storm, but he came back to you, as Your Tommy. At least for a little bit. 
At night, he pulls you into his arms without a word. He holds you until you fall asleep, but on several occasions, you wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed. Usually he’s sitting on the bed or standing as he stares out the window. Sometimes you hear him pacing the house. You don’t talk about it. You don’t talk about much anymore except for the weather. He’s ultra focused on the weather it seems. 
He hasn’t tried to touch you. Sexually that is. Any kiss he lays on you is chaste almost like it’s his duty, but sometimes you catch more behind it, like he’s pushing down his own desires. When you try to progress things, he walks away. 
It hurts. A lot. 
You have Julia and Micky over for dinner a month after Tommy’s release. Tommy comes out of his shell a little bit. He wears a smile, laughs with his head thrown back at some inside joke Micky cracks. He looks easy, relaxed for once. Under the table, his hand lands on your thigh sending little jolts of electricity through your body. He’s feeding you more and more loose threads of his old self to hold on to. The ever present tension in your chest eases. You hate that it feels like you can breathe again. A small, small assurance that he will come back to you in time. 
Micky and Tommy take the boys outside after dinner. Micky talks about a support group for Veterans he goes to. You watch from the window, you can’t hear them, but you see when  Tommy brushes him off, his body going rigid. You try to push it out of your mind, but you already feel the threads slipping through your fingers as you push back tears with a glass of water. 
Tommy goes to bed before you that night, but when you slip into bed, he still pulls you into his arms. When you wake up a couple hours later, Tommy stands by the window, gazing out of it like a statue keeping watch. 
You don’t usually say anything. You don’t let him know you know he’s not sleeping, but something tugs you into an upright position. “Tommy.”
He doesn’t respond, doesn’t move. You get no indication that he even hears you. You throw back the covers, joining him next to the window. You repeat his name, laying a hand on his shoulder. You catch a small twinge in his jaw. “Come back to bed?”
His eyes dart from the moon to his feet. He leans away from you, just enough for you to pick up on it. You can’t ignore the stab of hurt that shoots through your body. Your hands fall back like you’ve been burned. You wish you had the energy to yell at him, fight him, but you don’t, so you crawl back into bed, back turned to him. Silent tears soak your pillow before you fall back asleep. 
Tommy’s gaze moves to your still frame, praying for a release from the chains he can’t seem to shake. The ones that he keeps hurting you with, but he doesn't know where to find the keys. 
So life continues like that. Weekly dinners with Micky and Julia, glimpses of Tommy and threads that slip through your fingers. Most days it feels like one step forward and two steps back. Your patiences frays, your emotions unraveling each time he pushes you away only to pull you close at the end of the day. You’re not sure what does it, if you’ve reached the end of your rope, completely unraveled, or multiple tantrums Nathaniel threw all day, but when he reaches for you one night, you snap. 
“Stop.” You pull out of his reach.
“What’s wrong?”
Dry laughter falls out of you as you roll out of the bed. “What’s wrong? What’s not wrong?”
“Baby…”
“No, you don’t get to try and soothe me!” You bite your lip, trying to keep the tears of the past months from your eyes. You can’t break down right now, in front of him. “You’re pushing me away! I’m trying to be here for you, I really am, Tommy, but I am exhausted! I don’t know what to do.”
He looks away, body looking deflated. “I don’t know why you’re still here.”
“No- Stop,” you hold your hands up. “You know why I’m here. I love you, but love only gets us so far.”
“I’m trying-”
“No, you’re not.”
“You don’t know-”
“People who are trying don’t sit out on the porch and ignore their family every night! They don’t ignore their wife!”
“If that’s how you feel, maybe you should just leave me now!” he snaps. “No need to delay the inevitable.”
It pulls the air from you like a punch to the gut. Tears well in your eyes. “Is that what you want?”
He looks away from you again. You march up to him, grabbing his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “Tell me!” 
There’s nothing in his eyes, they’re the same eyes you fell in love with, but they’re hollow now. It sends a heartbreaking chill through your body. His eyes fall to the corner, the only way he can get away from your searing gaze. 
You drop his face, stepping away before you lose it in front of him. “Okay then.” 
You can’t stay here, in the room, in your home. Tommy hangs his head as you flee from his presence. The house rattles when the front door slams behind you. Only then, does Tommy let the apathy bleed out of his body and the tears fall. 
A knock on the front door jolts Joel awake. The TV plays lowly, casting harsh light and shadows across the dark living room. He feels confused, disoriented. Another knock pulls him through the fog a little bit. He opens the door to find you, tears streaming down your face. You push past him, crossing the threshold without an invitation. You don’t need one. 
“What’s wrong, Darlin?”
You inhale, preparing to let the words out, to scream if necessary, and then your whole chest quivers, and the tears pour out again sending you into a blubbering mess. Joel’s arms wrap around you, pulling you to the couch before you collapse right in front of him. 
He leaves you for a minute. The faucet runs in the kitchen. Joel sets a cool, heavy glass in your hands, watching over you with concern knit brows. Every time you try to talk, your chest rattles again and tears overpower you.
“It’s okay. Take your time.”
You sip at the water, rotating between complete serenity and total chaos. Every time you think you might be able to speak, the words turn into incoherent sobs. Finally, you give up trying to talk until the glass is empty. Joel takes the glass from your hands, setting it on the coffee table. You don’t attempt to talk until your breathing is fully evened out. Joel holds your shoulders, thumbs running smoothly over your skin.
“I’m just so fucking tired,” you say. “All the time.”
Joel frowns. “Tommy?”
“He won’t talk to me.” The tears gather behind your eyes again, creating pressure in your head. You feel the blubbering start to return. “I knew things would be hard, but he just acts like I’m not even there half the time.”
“Is he going out again?” 
You shake your head. “No- he’s home all the time, sulking, being mad at the world for whatever reason he can come up with. I’ve tried so hard. I don’t know what else to do.” Hot tears spill from your eyes. “It shouldn’t be this hard. I’m used to doing everything alone- but now I’m doing it with a ghost in my home. It wears on a person, and tonight- “ It hurts like citrus in a fresh cut to think about.  
“Come here.” Joel sighs, feeling his heartache for you. He pulls you into his chest, allowing you to soak his shirt until it sticks to his skin. His hand caresses your back, doing his best to soothe you as best he can. Though by now, he’s a pro at it. 
Eventually, your head falls into his lap. The sobs don't seem to rattle your body the same, but the tears don’t stop. 
Annoyance begins to grow in Joel. How many more times does he have to do this before you come to your senses? He thought Tommy’s stint in prison would help, yet here you are still crying on his couch. This can’t keep happening. It’s not fair to you. 
Joel loves his brother. He would do anything in this world for him, except when it comes to you. Because Joel loves you too. He loves you more and in more ways than a brother-in-law should. He hasn’t minded being just your brother-in-law and friend until now. You deserve better. 
When you finally sit up, wiping the tears from your eyes, he knows he won’t be able to stop the words at the cusp of his mouth. 
“What time is it?” You look at the clock on the wall with a sigh. “I should go home.”
“Darlin,” Joel grabs your chin. Your eyes snap to his. There’s a seriousness in his eyes you’re not sure you’ve seen before. “How long are you gonna let him keep doing this to you?”
“What?”
“You know what I mean.”
You close your eyes for a second. Another tear falls with your eyelashes. Joel swipes it away with his thumb. “What am I supposed to do, Joel? Where would we go?”
“You could stay here until you find somethin.”
A little huff of laughter manages to escape. “Yes, I’m sure Sarah would love having us invade her space when there’s a perfectly good house down the street.”
“She wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t want to leave him.” You put your hand on Joel’s wrist. “He’s a dick, but I love him.”
“It’s killing me to see you like this. You deserve better.”
He’s right. You know he’s right, but there’s something else in his eyes. The way he’s looking at you. There’s a heat in his gaze, something that feels so familiar, but you haven’t seen Tommy in years, the same look you saw that night at the beach. It sends tingles through your bloodstream, little pinpricks of excitement like the night you got yourself off in his bed, said his name and then heard him. You’ve managed to push down the question until now, but you know for certain now. He heard you. You swallow, your breath feeling like it’s being pulled out of your lungs. 
Do you tell him what Tommy said tonight? Do you tell him that you heard him that night? Do you tell him you’re being pulled into different directions?
“Joel…”
His hand falls to your waist. The other cups your neck. You feel like you’re falling toward him, helpless to stop the inevitable. “I’ve got you, Darlin.”
He’s been here. He’s always been here for you at the drop of a hat. Your firm foundation when it felt like the rest of the world was sinking. You always assumed you were just a promise he made to his brother, but what he’s been to you and what you’ve been to him, it’s more than a promise to a brother. It’s more than a love for family. 
It sparks a flame inside you. You haven’t been looked at like that in years. Haven’t been touched in just as long. Tommy hasn’t made a single move on you since he got out. He’s run every time you’ve tried to initiate something. 
Your eyes dip to his lips, centimeters from your own. Joel echoes the statement again, quieter this time as your lips touch his. He shutters under you, lips quick to take over. Arms wrap around your waist. You’re thankful for it. Thankful not to have to think about any of it. Content to let him have complete control as you straddle him.
He inhales with a faint shake to his breath, lips still touching yours. Then, he returns in full force, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth. His hands crawl up your body, greedy and searching. You give in, nails wracking through his hair. Years of pent-up desire behind both of your movements. 
You play with the top buttoning of his shirt, popping them open, lightly scraping your nails across his chest. A moan reverberates from his chest. The bulge in his pants grows against your crotch, sending electricity through your veins. You tug at another button before Joel’s hand covers yours. He manages to pull away just barely. 
“What’s wrong?”
“Not here.” He pants. “Sarah.”
Your eyes widen, realizing how easily you could’ve been spotted by your niece. Joel caresses your jaw, eyes hooded with lust. He bucks his hips up, brushing your clothed crotch again. You gasp, making him smirk. 
His voice is raspy with need. “Gotta get you into my bed, Darlin.”
You barely manage to pull yourself off his lap, your legs feeling like wet noodles. Joel smiles, he grabs your hand, tugging you behind him. He’s quiet on the stairs, eyes glued to Sarah’s bedroom door the entire way up. 
His bedroom door clicks softly behind you, your shirt thrown off before Joel can turn around. He lets out an appreciative groan, pulling his own shirt off as he stalks toward you. Want pools low in your belly, the walls of your aching cunt clench. Your breath quickens as he edges nearer, a solid arm wrapping around your waist. His contained erection pushes against you making you grin. “Happy to see me?”
“More than you know,” he growls, kissing you again. Hand roaming your exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You moan softly and then a little bit louder. Joel shakes his head. “Music to my fucking ears baby.”
He pulls and tugs at your bra, unable to get it opened to the point you’re worried he broke a clasp. Finally, you pull it over your head and let it land with your shirt. He takes you in, topless in his bedroom for just him to see. You’re a fucking work of art, water to a wanderer in the desert. 
He cups one of your breasts, pulls the other one into his mouth. You gasp, head falling back, moisture collecting in your underwear. His thumb plays with your exposed nipples while his tongue swirls over the other. You moan his name softly, being cautious of your volume.
He palms himself through his jeans, switching to your other breast as he does. You fight the urge to fall back on the bed, hands playing in his hair, nails scratching his scalp. He hums softly against your chest, sending an extra wave of pleasure through your body. He pulls back, saliva connecting the two of you, eyes glued to yours. He kisses you until the back of your knees hit his mattress, but he doesn’t let you fall to the bed yet. 
“How long has it been?” he says, muffled against your lips. His fingers play with the button of your pants
“What?”
“How long has it been?” He pulls back, the button of your pants popping open as he sinks to his knees.
Confusion flashes through your face until you realize what he’s saying, what he’s asking. You swallow, unsure of how to answer. 
“Darlin?”
It’s embarrassing because you can’t remember the last time you were touched like this. You shake your head. “I don’t know. Before?”
The sound from his throat is guttural, almost a growl. He’s been out for three months. Three fucking months and he hasn’t bothered to touch his wife. 
Joel tugs your jeans down, pressing a kiss just below your belly button, continuing down to the band of your underwear. Your pussy clenches again, dripping with need. 
“Lay down.”
You obey, bottom hitting the soft mattress first and then your back. His smell is everywhere now, seeping into your skin, just as it always has when you curled up in his bed. 
His hands run up the length of your torso, tweaking your nipples before sliding down, continuing over your thighs. He pulls your jeans free, pressing his nose to your center. “Smell so good for me, baby.”
Your stomach flutters, hips pressing into his face. He lets out a low chuckle. “I’m going to take care of you, Darlin. Don’t you worry.” 
You whine, hands gripping the sheets beside you. “Please, Joel.”
He tugs your underwear down, tortuously slow. His fingers trace down the entirety of your legs. You can see just enough under the hood of your lust-filled eyes. He props both of your legs on his shoulders, pressing slow kisses to the inside of each leg as he edges closer and closer to your core. 
When he gets there, he pauses, eyes locking on yours. It’s intentional. You have the urge to cuss him out if he doesn’t put his mouth on you soon. The need is strong enough you could cry or scream of frustration. 
Slowly, he spreads your legs, fingers creeping toward your sopping folds. He runs his pinky through them, barely nudging your clit, but it’s enough to have your back arching off the mattress. He grins up at you. He spreads you further. The evidence of your arousal glistens in the dim lights. “Fuck, Baby. So wet for me.”
You bite your lip to keep from yelling at him. “Please, Joel.” Your voice is hoarse and strained already. 
He groans, practically falling into your spread pussy. His tongue flattens against you, running the length of your folds. Your hands tangle in his hair, repeated moans falling from your lips, ones you both know you’re holding back for the sake of being quiet. You’re seeing stars and he’s barely touched you. 
Joel wants to take his time, savor the moment, memorize every piece of you. He wants to pull you apart piece by piece and put you back together again. He knows he may not get another opportunity again, but you’re addicting. He wants to pull those sounds from you on a loop and feast on your juices. He sucks your clit, swirling his tongue around it, eliciting another glorious moan from you. Each one grows louder until he pulls away for the briefest second and a pillow hits your face. 
“As much as I wanna hear you, Darlin. Use that.” He grins. “Don’t hold back on me anymore.”
His mouth is on you, doubling his efforts. Bringing you to the edge of bliss. You’re so close, moans filling the pillow case that smells like him. He inserts a finger, giving you something to clench around, softly brushing against your walls. His tongue laps over your clit and the tension building in you snaps in one beautiful crescendo. 
His thumb replaces his tongue as he works you through your orgasm, chest heaving as you catch your breath. “That’s right. Just like that.”
You toss the pillow to the side, locking eyes with him. He smirks at you, pressing a kiss over your hip. He leaves behind some of your juices, his face slick with them. Standing back to his feet, he undoes his belt shucking off his jeans and boxers. 
Your breath catches again as you hurry to sit up. He chuckles at you, catching your hands in his as you reach for him, for his cock. He pushes you back down to the bed, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “As much as I’d enjoy that, Darlin. It was all I could do not to finish in my pants like a damn teenager.” 
Your breath quivers against him, words barely coherent in your brain. He releases one of your hands, reaching into his drawer for a condom.
 “Joel, I-” Your hand runs down his side, soaking in the feel of his skin. “Please.” It’s all you can manage. Years of pent-up desire begging to be freed. 
He smiles, pressing a kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on him. 
He rips open the foil packet. Your eyes follow his every movement as he rolls it over his cock. Once it’s on he crawls onto the bed, hovering over you, gazing down at you like you hung the moon and stars. He’s your oasis in the desert and you’re his. Your hands roam his back and shoulders and hair. He leans into your touch, soft noises of contentment falling from his lips. 
Before you know what you’re doing, you manage to flip him onto his back. His arms fly out, a thunk sounding through the room as his wrist collides with the night stand. 
You can’t help the laughter that spills from your lips as you settle on top of him. “Are you okay?”
“Glad to see you’re so concerned for my well being.” He chuckles.
“No- Really.” But you can’t stop laughing. “Are you okay?”
“My watch caught it. I’m fine.” 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Joel smiles, cradling your face in his hands. 
You lean down, hands spread over his chest as you press your lips to his. His hands are all over your bare skin again. He shifts your hips, positioning you over him, ready for you to sink down on to him, feel you wrap around him. 
You run your thumb over his bottom lip as his eyes roam over your face, breath held in anticipation, waiting for you.
“Are you sure?” you ask, barely a whisper. 
“Never been more sure.” His hands settle over your hips, holding them softly. 
The air seems to evaporate from the room and the world goes silent before you take that final, fatal move and sink onto him. A soft whimper leaves your lips before Joel captures your lips, swallowing it.
The moonlight reflects off his watch face. Neither of you are aware that it’s stopped, sealing your sins under its glass. 
You lay in Joel's arms long after you’ve both finished, sweaty and bare. The ceiling fan turns above you offering little reprieve. It’s nice, at first, but the longer you lay there, the longer it begins to sink in, the more you start to feel the stickiness on your skin and the unexplainable need for a shower. 
You pull out of Joel's arm’s without a word, eyes searching for your clothes strewn across the room. Why does it feel like the walls are closing in? You need to get out and think. 
“Darlin?” Joel sits up, reaching for your shoulder. 
“I should go home,” you say, rising to your feet before he can touch you. “I need to go home.”
“I told you you can stay.”
“I need to go home!” you snap, tears glistening in your eyes. This is wrong. It’s all wrong. 
“Shit,” Joel’s head drops. He lets out a huff, a hint of sarcasm to it. You grab your shirt, pulling it on, too busy locating your items to pay him any mind. “So that’s it? You’re just going to go back? Nothing’s gonna change.”
Your head snaps up as you pull on your jeans. “This can’t happen.” Your chest shakes. “It shouldn’t have happened, Joel. We both know that.”
“Or maybe it was supposed to.” He slides out of the bed, pulling on his boxers.
“Joel-”
“He doesn’t treat you right. We both know that.”
“He’s my husband!”
“He doesn’t get to walk all over you just because he’s your husband!”
“That doesn’t make this right!”
“It was the most right my life’s felt in years,” Joel says, eyes landing on yours. You bite back tears, trying not to let him get to you as you turn away, but he grabs your wrist. “It always does with you.”
You turn your head away from him without a response.
“You shouldn’t feel guilty.” His thumbs press into your palm. 
You slip his grip. “I love him. I know I shouldn’t anymore, after everything, but I do.” 
“I’ve always been here.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” You want to curse as your emotion wells up again. How much can a person take in a single night? “My life would be so much simpler if it was you.”
“It could be.”
“No,” your head shakes. It hurts more than you expect it too. You do love him. You wish it could be him. As if the past three years weren’t enough, you know what it’s like to be with him now, but it’s still Tommy, and you hate yourself for it. 
Joel seems to read it in your eyes, the sadness, the acceptance, lingering longing for what could have been. His throat bobbles as he steps back to give you space. You release a slow breath. 
“I’m sorry-”
“Don't apologize. I should have known better.”
You cringe. You want to tell him it’s not all on him, but he’s giving you an out. You’re too exhausted not to take it. “I’ll see you this weekend.”
“Yeah.” Joel moves about his room like he’s searching for something. 
You’re not sure if you should say something more, or leave. Leaving would be easier. A clean break, and you take it, but Joel’s voice stops you before you can open the door. “He wasn’t faithful to you.”
Your hand freezes over the door knob, eyes squeezing shut. You can’t do this. You can’t have this conversation right now, but your body is frozen in place. 
“I think you should know.”
Nails bite into your palms as you steady your breath, eyes focused on the wood of the door in front of you as rage begins to grow in you. “He already told me, but thanks for dredging that hurt back up three years after the fact.”
“Darlin-”
You spin on your heels. “Fuck you, Joel!” 
Joel’s eye’s fly wide. “I just thought you should know!”
“No, you were using that for your own good!” You can’t take this. Joel throwing Tommy’s betrayal in your face years after the fact is its own form of treachery.
“I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“I live in a constant state of hurt! You were supposed to be my reprieve!” Your fists shake, voice raising. You don’t care if you wake Sarah, you don’t care if your sins come to light. There’s only so much a person can take in a single night. “If you actually cared about me, you wouldn’t have kept that a secret for years! And you damn sure wouldn’t have used it for your own good!”
Joel doesn’t break eye contact with you, but you see the regret fill his eyes. Fire buzzes in your bloodstream and tears prickle your eyes. You’re not sure how you have any left to shed. In the blink of an eye, you flee from his room and home before he can attempt to draw you back in.
You take the long way home, letting the Texas darkness swallow you whole until you’re ready to go back home. 
The house is dark and quiet. You flip on the lamp, a deep tension forming in your head. Tommy sits on the couch, eyes latching onto yours. He looks like a lost puppy. Your breath catches. You must look a mess- eyes stained red, and clothes wrinkled. You worry you smell like sex or Joel, running over the nights happening for any chance Joel left a mark on you- not that Tommy would notice that. 
“I was getting worried about you.”
You toss your keys on the end table, throwing off your shoes with a sarcastic huff. “That’s ironic.” Tommy cringes. For once, you’re the closed-off one, too emotionally hardened or drained for his antics. 
“I deserve that.”
“Ya think?” You cross your arms. 
“Baby…” He eases to his feet. “I’m sorry- for all of it.”
“Sorry? Sorry! What the hell am I supposed to do with that, Tommy!”
He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It reminds you of Joel. The thought makes your blood run cold. “I don’t know.”
A humorless laugh leaves your throat. “You don’t know?”
“What the fuck can I say? I fucked up. Quite frankly, I don’t know why you’re still here!”
“Because I love you, you fucking idiot!”
“Why!?”
The question catches you off guard. “What the fuck do you mean? ‘Why?’”
“I don’t deserve it.”
“Wow, you’re on a roll tonight.” Your eyes roll. 
“I mean it.”
“Do you want me to leave, Tommy?” Yours and his transgressions filter before your eyes, making you cringe. Two wrongs don’t make a right. “You're done with me and you can’t bring yourself to say it?”
“I’m not good enough for you anymore!” Tears swell in his eyes. “I’ve done nothing but hurt you! But I can’t let you go!”
“I don’t want you to let me go, you big idiot!”
“Why?”
Your eyes flutter shut as you take a deep breath. Joel behind your eyelids. His stability. His care. His love. You could have that, but it would never quench your longing for Tommy. For better or worse, he’s yours. You want him even if it’s bad for you. “I don’t know.”
Tommy enters your space. His arms slip around your waist, eliciting a soft gasp from a place inside you you thought long gone. 
“You still believe in me?” He presses his forehead against yours. The callus on your heart starts to lift away, easier than you want to admit. He’s still in there somewhere, the man you fell in love with. You’re seeing more of him than you have in a long time. His hands feel hot against your back and he tugs you closer. You’re compliant under his touch. Whatever he wants from you, you’ll let him have it if he’ll just stays like this. 
You sniff back the tears, head nodding. “Yeah. I think I always will.”
“Let me make it better. I’m going to do better, Baby.” His breath is hot on your ear, lips pressing right behind it, and then to the corner of your jaw. Your body takes over as you lean into his touch. “I’m going to be here and present for you and Nathaniel.”
“You promise?” If the Tommy you fell in love with comes back to you, you won’t survive losing him again. You feel his hands in places he’s not even touching, heat sprouting all over your body. 
“I promise, Baby.” He kisses your cheek and then your forehead. 
You feel the pull of his current tugging you back under, clouding your judgment. You should send him packing or at least to the guest room until you wash his brother’s scent from your skin, but your body calls for him. Tommy’s touch is your addiction, your late nights running wild, your stint in prison. 
His breath fans over your face and before you know it, you’re pulling his lips to yours. The undertow sweeps you away, tugging you under the surface. Tommy’s never been the safe option, but you never claimed to need safe. 
He tugs you up the stairs. The lock on your bedroom door clicks and he’s on you like a starved man, hands wreaking havoc on your body, pulling clothing from your body like pretty wrapping paper on christmas morning. It doesn’t matter that you were sated well over an hour ago, your body responds to Tommy like a horny teenager. He knows you. He knows how to touch your body just right, he knows exactly how to make you writhe and moan and scream, and he hasn’t forgotten either. He plans to put his memory to good use tonight. 
Your hands are as ravenous as his, tugging his hair, at the buttons of his shirt, and pants. His teeth scrapes your bottom lip before he lays you down on the bed, bared to him and the moon streaming through the curtains. He smiles at you. It’s breathtaking. 
He takes his dear, sweet time with you, pulling you apart piece by piece and gluing you back together. Each time your brain dares to wonder into forbidden territory, he reminds you why he’s your husband, that he still knows you better than anyone else. It erases the rest of the night from your memory and the last two years until it’s just you and him, coming together as one like it was always meant to be. You and him. Bonnie and Clyde. 
He finishes deep inside of you, a feeling you’ve missed. All of it you’ve missed. His skin on yours, sweat mingling together. You lay there staring up at him in awe. He locks eyes with you. He’s there. Your Tommy. The Tommy you see every time you think about him, with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin.
He leans down, lips pressing to your forehead. He wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “I never want to be the cause of these again.”
“Let’s be real, Tommy, you made me cry even when things were good.”
He chuckles, falling beside you. His chest moves with his heavy panting. You think he might be the most handsome man you’ve ever met. “Yeah, suppose I did.” 
“You’re gonna try, for real?”
“I’ll probably fuck up here and there.” He gathers you into his arms, skin pressed to skin as you breathe in the same air. 
“I know you will.” You tease. He scowls, but it’s all in good fun. Another flash of fresh air, a promise that things could go back to normal. 
“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
You laugh, fingers tangling in his black waves. His hair has gotten so long. You wonder if he’ll keep it this way. “It’s gonna take at least that.”
He nods, a hint of seriousness showing in his face. “I know.”
And you know he means it. 
“I think you should go to that group Micky mentioned. You need people who understand.”
Tommy shifts slightly. He doesn’t like the idea. That much is clear. “Baby…”
“This is how you do better, Tommy.” The firmness in your voice catches you off guard. Tommy too. 
He nods, Adam's Apple bobbing. “Okay. I’ll go.”
“Every week?”
“Every week.”
The next morning, you wake up the same way you fell asleep, in your husband’s arms. 
Tommy never says a word, but he smells it on you that night. Something familiar, but out of place. It doesn’t belong on you, but he can’t put his finger on it. He knows what it means. He’s no idiot, and he doesn’t blame you for any of it. He’s had his indiscretions. Lord knows you’re allowed yours. 
You sit on the front porch with your coffee the next morning, the creaking of the porch swing playing in the background of your racing mind. You feel guilty for all of it. What you did to Tommy. What you did to Joel. But more so, you feel guilty because you know you can keep this buried for the rest of your life if it means keeping Tommy, and you’re pretty sure it makes you no better than him. At least Tommy had the balls to own up to what he did, but Joel isn’t some random girl at a bar. He’s your friend. Tommy’s brother. If it had been some random man, you could own up to it, but not this. Not Joel. 
“Aunt Bonnie!” 
The familiar voice pulls you from your thoughts as Sarah waves from the sidewalk, other hand clutched tightly in Joel’s. 
“Hey!” You force a smile to your face, waving back to her as they climb the porch stairs. She rushes over to you, arms open to give you a hug. You return the gesture, crushing her against your frame. “What’s up?”
“We’re just walking. I wanted to come say hi.”
You kiss her cheek. “Well I feel honored. Nathaniel and Uncle Tommy are inside if you want to say hi to them too.”
“Okay,” Sarah returns your kiss, curls bouncing behind her as she darts inside. 
You keep your eyes focused off to the side as Joel’s footsteps draw closer. Your finger plays along the rim of your coffee mug. You feel small, like a child in trouble. Joel eases next to you on the swing, shoulder brushing yours as he does. You bite your lip, knee bouncing softly.
“I’m sorry,” Joel says. “I shouldn’t have let that happen last night.”
Your eyes glaze over. “It’s not all on you.”
“Let it.” Your head snaps toward him. He looks tired, like he didn’t sleep much last night. He clasps his hands together, leaning over his knees. “You weren’t in a good place. I took advantage of that. Let it be my fault.”
Tears glaze over your eyes. He’s giving you an out. 
“Joel…”
He nods at you, a silent assurance. You shouldn’t take it, but you do. You lean into it, and it covers the guilt some, even if it’s all lies. You knew what you were doing. 
He kisses your forehead as the words leave your mouth. “I’m sorry.” 
“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Darlin.” More lies to make you feel less guilty. He’ll feed them to you as long as you need him to. 
He stands up, eyes flickering between your door and the way back to his house. 
“I can walk Sarah home later.” 
“Thanks.” He nods before leaving your front porch. He doesn’t look back.  
Things with Tommy don’t magically get better overnight. Life doesn’t work that way. It takes time. It’s gradual, sometimes it feels like you’re moving backward, but slowly Tommy comes back into himself. He’s never the exact man you fell in love with, the one you married, but you’re not the same person either. Time changes things. People grow, but with some work, you find new versions of yourselves that still fit together. Most importantly, this new version is still your Tommy.
Your memories with Joel don’t go away. You keep them tucked deep in your soul, but the two of you find your new rhythm, your friendship too important to lose. 
One Year Later
The five of you gather at Joel’s on Sunday morning for breakfast, rotating houses each week. It’s a carry over from the routine you and Joel developed. It’s different, obviously. You and Nathaniel don’t stay the night. It takes time for Tommy to find his place in the well oiled unit the two of you became. It feels awkward and clunky at times, but you get through it and slowly the kinks work themselves out. 
Joel bounds down the stairs, hair wet from his shower as he joins you and Tommy around the coffee pot. 
“Figured y'all would have breakfast ready by now,” Joel says, squeezing next to Tommy to get to the coffee. 
“Last I checked, we’re guests in your house,” you say, quirking an eyebrow, teasing lilt in your voice. Joel’s eyes roll but a smirk quirks his lips none the less.
Tommy hears a ringing in his ears as the scent of Joel’s body wash filters through his senses, still strong on his brother’s skin. His eyes narrow at your and Joel’s banter. There’s nothing unusual about it. He knows you two are close. It doesn’t bother him, but he knows that scent. His mind pulls it from the fading archives quickly. He smelled it on you that night.  
Tommy sets his mug down, not saying anything as you and Joel go back and forth over breakfast traditions, the two of you falling into predetermined roles in the kitchen. You dance around each other, like a sixth sense, always knowing where the other one is and where they’re going. 
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Tommy’s  not sure how he hadn’t caught it before. Maybe his brain wasn’t ready. He’s lived a lot of his recent life in a fog, maybe it had just cleared enough now. 
He doesn’t catch any longing glances or stolen touches. Everything is above board. He knows he has no right to be angry, not after what he's done. He’d pushed you away. Maybe he even pushed you into Joel’s bed that night. Maybe there were nights before, but he hasn’t smelled another man, hasn’t smelled Joel on your skin since. You’ve spent every night next to him, in his arms, body pressed against his. At the end of the day, that’s all he needs. 
He can get past the hurt like you did for him. He can push away the questions. How long did you wait? How often did you find solace in his brother’s bed? He wants to ignore the questions, stomp them down so they don’t fester, don’t ruin what you’ve helped him rebuild. 
“Daddy?” Nathaniel tugs on Tommy’s shirt, pulling him from his thoughts. 
He smiles, pulling his son into his arms with an exaggerated groan. At five and a half, it won’t be much longer before he’s too big to pick up. It hits again, like a sledgehammer to a cinderblock wall, how much of his son’s life he’s missed. Nathaniel laughs, pressing his forehead to Tommy’s. Is there a sweeter sound in this world? 
“What’s up, kiddo?”
“I love you.” He whisper yells.
Tommy chuckles mimicking Nathaniel’s tone. “I love you too.”
Your laugh floats through. Tommy looks up to find you smiling at them, so much love and affection sparkling in your eyes. Something stirs in him, possessiveness, maybe as he strides across the room, shifting Nathaniel to his side so he can pull you flush against him. You melt against him. That’s how he knows, knows you’re still his and he's yours. He won’t ever say a word. He won’t risk losing you again or causing you more grief than he has.
Tommy grins at you, voice lowering to a growl. “And I love you, Momma.” Then he kisses you like he’d reclaiming you. 
Neither of you catches the way Joel turns his back and puts himself out of ear shot. You never catch the way his gaze lingers. He conceals the way his fingers itch to touch you like he used to. 
Nathaniel squeals in disgust, sliding out of his father’s arms. You both share a laugh and then both Tommy’s arms are tightly around your waist, lips pressed to yours again. Your hands rake through his long curls.
As long as you still look at him like that, continue to touch him like that, Tommy doesn’t care that you fucked his brother. Your heart belongs to him. 
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orbital-inclination · 8 hours
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Moltendreams - Ink Sans Alias: Fable Pronouns: he/him Personality: Upbeat and Absent Minded Ink seems perpetually Cheerful, Optimistic and full of energy. Frivolous and playful. He may came across as Tone Deaf or inappropriate, seeming unaware of sensitive subjects. However Ink is rarely, if ever intentionally mean or callous. Notes:
Fable carries a notebook he uses to record things he doesn't want to forget. His memory issues aren't as severe as Ink's, but he is still prone to forgetting things easily, specially: names to faces and important dates.
Fable loves watercolor.
His eyelights change shape and color to anything! (stars, exclamation points, swirls, etc.)
He also loves Fashion and even designs his own outfits.
He knows how to sew and stitch and usually has a comment on the tip of his tongue about your fashion choices.
Broomie is hollow inside and filled with diluted paint. Can be any color but usually the paint is associated with a positive emotion. - More info Under cut! -
The Doodleshere: In Moltendreams, Fable must travel to AUs directly to collect paint from them. In this multiverse, the Doodlesphere is scribbled on top of Fable's original AU, and rests in a sort of OUT OF BOUNDS space between AUs. Through the Doodlesphere, Fable can access every AU he has discovered so far. The Doodlesphere is an endlessly expanding liminal space; a series of interconnected empty indoor spaces, shops, malls, palaces, endless variants of regions of the underground, each reflecting an AU, through a door in each room. Despite how confusing the layout of Doodlesphere may seem to the outsider, Fable instinctively knows where everything is. Nothing is ever lost in the Doodleshere.
About: Fable acts as a Muse for Creation, he does not create AUs by himself but rather, assists in the creation by attempting to cox a Spirit of Creation (in-universe term and stand-in for the creator of a particular AU) into taking action. Most Spirits of Creation will create AUs on their own, but many will hesitate, abandoned their world before it's finished, or simply sit still while a world remains incomplete, seemingly waiting for some unknown que. While the Spirits can be influenced and encouraged, ultimately, they cannot be controlled, even by Fable. Fable has a similar history as Canonical Ink. He originated in a discarded AU, soulless but willed to life by a Spirit of Creation before it departed. Fueled by the desire to never experience the empty monotony of an unfinished AU again, Fable travels the multiverse to encourage Spirits of Creation to finish their work. Though the consequences of his actions were unintentional, Fable initially favored Positive AUs and could be said to be partially responsible for the state of the Multiverse as it is today. Happiness feels good. Joy feels good. Fable wants to feel good. He wants others to feel good too. Outcode Politics: Fable places equal value on all creation, and for that reason, he is forced into a position where he feels obligated to respect all "characters" he comes across, even "characters" like Error. Can art destroy itself? Should art destroy itself, if that is the intention of the creator? What do you do when one Artist's art can only be appreciated through the destruction of another Artist's work? Ink doesn't think of it in exactly those terms, but that is the gist of his internal conflict. Passive interference in any given AU is a problem for Fable. He believes the "narrative" should be left to play out organically without outside interference. To interfere could jeopardize the AU's stability. Or worse, antagonize the Creation Spirit that made it. Which can be dangerous for the inhabitants. But for the average encounter, Fable is a wild card. He follows no strict rules, and is just as likely to chase other outcodes off as he is to befriend them and attempt to guild them. Paint and Vials:
Specific AUs give Ink specific paint colors tied to certain emotions. Underfell will give Ink shades of red/anger/righteousness for example but won’t give him yellow/euphoria. Horrortale will give him deep blue/loneliness/grief and shades of purple/fear but won’t give him green/envy etc.
the more common the au is, the more of a specific color Ink will be able to collect from it.
this means that if a certain AU is rare he will use up the color associated with it more quickly. He will try to avoid situations that drain that specific color because it will be harder to refill it later.
Ink drinks a little bit of every color at the same time, daily. Rather than one at a time as it applies to a specific situation
it’s easier for Ink to collect paint from AUs in the “WIP” phase because the paint hasn’t dried yet AFCRUFTAFH
He can gather paint from a “finished” world but he won’t get as much.
Like Canonical Ink, when Fable is drained of paint he will become doll-like, an empty unresponsive husk. with a couple caveats. 1. Fable is aware of things that happen during this period. he just can’t react to them.
2. if what’s left of his magic feels threatened, (the minimal stuff that is keeping his body together) he will react to defend himself. it’s more reflex/instinctive than thought out, however.
3. if Fable had been focusing on a task, goal, or thought prior to going dry, he will react to external things related to that specific task/goal/thought.
Fable doesn’t immediately bounce back after getting his vials refilled. He’s sluggish, and there’s a noticeable buffer period between when something happens and when he reacts to it. He remembers what happened and what was said to him. This is the second most vulnerable period for him. if someone wanted to manipulate or influence him that would be the time to do it. OG Ink Sans/Inktale @.comyet Moltendreams @ me
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brucewaynehater101 · 13 hours
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When the others inevitably find out about the warped dynamic between Tim and Bruce they decide to completely take advantage of it and tell Tim that they’re planning on going out
And tim sees them as his siblings or distant relatives so he doesn’t really think that he needs to give them permission or that he has any authority over them so he just nods and tells them to be safe
When they get caught by Bruce they just immediately throw Tim under the bus by saying that he said they could go and Tim is realizing that his siblings are exploiting the loophole that is Tim and must work his way out of this blunder
Alright. Brilliant. However, here's how I'm imaging the scene to play out:
~~~
Damian has been glaring at Tim for the last thirteen minutes. Tim has been steadfast in ignoring whatever weird intimidation technique the kid is trying to pull with him. As he's taken to most of the batkids, he sticks to the motto, "it's not my business until it is."
The best part about that motto is how vague it is so Tim can shape it to whatever aim he pleases. It works for him, and it works against everyone else (unless it's Duke. The teen ruthlessly utilizes the loophole of making whatever situation he needs Tim for into Tim's problem).
Regardless, Tim has been clacking away at Neon Knights paperwork while Damian stares at Tim without blinking. An idle thought of Tim's almost makes him navigate to LoA servers to check their training programs (thirteen whole minutes without blinking???), but his willpower is strong enough to ignore it.
"Timothy."
Tim immediately closes his laptop and whips around to Damian.
Did the little gremlin actually refer to Tim by his first name?
Tim's fingers twitch with the urge to perform an injury check on the kid, but he refrains. Damian seems fine.
Well... besides the unblinking stare for thirteen minutes and the first name. Maybe Tim should perform tha-
"Colin and I would like to go to the zoo on Saturday, Timothy."
Tim's thoughts snap back to present at the confusing series of events that are playing out. He clocks the kid's clenched teeth, his hesitancy to even utter any words, the delayed conversation, the first name usage, the way Damian's eyes betray irritation and anticipation, his strict posture, and the way Damian's hands are clasped behind his back. It's a confusing set of clues laid out before Tim, and he can only come to one conclusion.
Damian is reaching out and offering an olive branch. He's offering random information in his socially stunted way of bonding.
Tim allows a soft smile to appear on his face as he nods. "Are there any animals in particular you want to see?"
Damian's eyebrow furrow, but he does answer the question. "Richard has prattled on about the elegance of elephants. Colin is partial to the tigers."
While that didn't necessarily answer the question, Tim offers him a nod. "I particularly enjoy their bird enclosures. They allow you to walk inside some of them as they fly around you."
Damian's eyes gain a concerning gleam to them, but Tim just hopes this bonding exercise brings them closer together. It's been hectic in the Manor ever since the other Bats found out about the true nature of his relationship with Bruce. It's not as huge of a deal as they seem to be making of it.
Tim grabs his laptop, places it on his lap, and pries it open again. "I hope you guys have fun at the zoo."
By the soft and intentional putter of feet, Tim can hear Damian walking away. "Thank you, Timothy."
"You're welcome, Dames."
Tim finds out Saturday night, when the batcave is filled with 3 tigers, 6 elephants, and so many birds, what Damian actual meant by him going to the zoo. Bruce is furious, several of the Batkids are laughing, and Tim is quietly hiding his amusement as well.
Or he was until Damian explained that Tim had given him permission to do it and even told him to grab all the birds.
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sissylittlefeather · 3 days
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Hi Sissy! If it’s not too late, could you do a Fic of Elvis based on the song “Help Me Make It Through the Night?” Like Elvis and you know you’re not good for each other, but you can’t stay away. Can develop into smut but if you’d prefer not, that’s okay too! If it’s too late, I completely understand! Thank you! 😊
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@peaceloveelvis Hi! Definitely not too late! First of all, this is one of my most favorite songs. I actually have a series planned to go with this song later, so stay tuned. But also, I haven't written anything without smut in a LONG TIME. This one came out this way and I might revisit it to expand on the smut later if there's interest, but I kind of like it without it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this ficlet!
Help Me Make It Through the Night
Warnings: none really, cussing, mentions of sex
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Elvis has been a part of your life since you met him during his Timex special with Frank Sinatra. The only thing you did more than make love relentlessly was fight endlessly. The nights were hot, but the mornings never failed to conclude with both of you yelling and at least one of you crying. There was no end to the way you loved each other or the way you managed to drive each other insane. There was always something to fight about and you left each other every time swearing you'd never be together again. But somehow, you'd end up in the same place and before you knew it you were naked in an elevator or in his backseat or in a bathroom or a hotel bed in some sketchy by-the-hour kind of place. Even after he got married, you didn't stop. Your pattern of fucking and fighting stayed the same.
In 1969, though, you had a particularly spirited tryst that ended with both of you saying things you regretted almost instantly. But you were both too stubborn to admit it, so instead you threw a shoe at him and screamed at him to get out and he called you a name and swore he'd never end up in your bed again. This time, the pain you caused cut so deep that you both insisted you'd never give in again. It was over, for real this time. The hurt was too much to make the good times worth it.
So, you did what any self-respecting woman would do. You married someone else.
When he heard about it, he broke an end table and all the things sitting on it in a fit of rage and jealousy and something else he was afraid to admit.
On your wedding night, you cried yourself to sleep with your new husband snoring quietly next to you in the bed.
Then, in 1971, you find yourself walking down the street and come upon a loud and frantic crowd. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you look to see what all the commotion is about. The crowd parts like ill-meaning clouds and he looks up at just the wrong moment.
His blue eyes pierce you straight through to your soul, even from across the street. Something inside you jumps and your hand goes to your throat. Memories of every time you've ever been together slam into you like a freight train and you're somewhere between ecstasy and wanting to die. By the look on his face, you can tell he's experiencing something similar. Everything inside you is screaming at you to go to him, but you feel the cold little ring on your finger and know that you can't. You turn and walk away as quickly as you can. He fights to get away from the crowd around him, but by the time he does, you're gone.
******
You're pacing the floor of your living room when the phone rings. Even several hours later, you haven't recovered from your encounter. You pick the phone up aggressively, annoyed to be distracted by the call.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Presley would like you to meet him tonight at the Presidential Motel at 11pm." Your blood runs cold.
"Why?" The line clicks with no answer. He's left the ball in your court and you hate it. You won't meet him. You just won't. He's impossible.
But at 10:45pm you're in your car. You've spent the last several hours trying to remind yourself of all the reasons you hate him. You finally decide you're going to see him just to tell him that you don't care what he says; you were serious last time. This is not a thing anymore and it never will be again.
At 11:06pm, you sit in the parking lot of the motel, a battle raging inside you.
"This is stupid." You mutter, finally getting out of the car. At the desk, you ask which room Mr. John Burrows is staying in. The clerk tells you and you stomp towards his room getting more and more angry as you walk. The nerve of him to think he can just summon you like this.
You pound on the door with every ounce of rage your body can contain flowing through you. The door opens slowly and your heart skips. Why does he have to look so good?
"You came."
"What the fuck could you possibly want to say to me?! The last time you saw me you called me a whore and said you'd rather swallow a knife than see me again. So, whatever you have to-"
"I miss you."
"You... what?" He speaks again slowly and deliberately.
"I miss you." It feels like your stomach has fallen to your kneecaps. "I'm lonely, honey."
"Call your wife."
"Will ya just... no. I want you."
"Have you forgotten-"
"No, I haven't. And I'm sorry." He's never apologized to you before. You stand in stunned silence just outside the door.
"You're-"
"Sorry. Yes. Now, will you come in please?" You stand there completely lost. Finally, he grabs your arm and drags you into the room, shutting the door behind you.
"What the hell, Elvis?!" He pulls you close to him and presses his lips to yours. For a second, you melt into him. Then, you remember why you were mad and pull away angrily.
"No, I'm not-" He pulls you in again, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you more deeply this time. You fight to get away, but he holds you tightly. Eventually you're able to escape his grasp and you push him backwards. He goes to grab you again and you slap him across the face. Your hands go to your mouth in shock and he looks at you stunned.
"Oh god, I'm-"
"I guess I deserved that." He walks to the bed and sits down. "You actually hate me, don't you?"
You stand there for a few seconds before sitting down beside him on the bed.
"No. I don't. But we said this was done."
"I know. I'm just... I'm alone, honey. And I miss you so much it hurts worse than being with you." You look at him, but he won't meet your eyes. It comes to you that he must be pretty desperate to put himself in this position.
"You're alone?"
"You know how it gets for me. There's people everywhere, but I just... I miss you."
"Why me?" He rolls his eyes and looks at you finally.
"You gonna make me say it?"
"Yes. If you want me to stay here, then-"
"I love you. I've been in love with you since I met you. You're the only one I want when I feel like this and it's been so long-" You reach out and put your hand on his knee and he looks down at it, setting his on top of yours, gently wrapping his fingers around yours.
You're used to these vulnerable moments from him. They're what has brought you together over and over throughout the years. So when he breaks down and sobs, you pull him into your arms and hold him without thinking. Somehow you end up lying in the bed with him cuddled tightly against you, head on your chest. You stroke his hair and hum quietly. This is a familiar position for the two of you and you've missed it more than you care to admit.
Eventually, his breathing evens out and you realize he's fallen asleep. You kick your shoes off and snuggle in to spend the night. As angry as you were, you can't deny him what he needs because the truth is you love him too and you always have. You kiss his forehead and hold him tightly. You've missed this too.
******
In the morning, you make love and it's sweet and sensual and exactly what you've both been needing. And this time you don't fight. Somewhere in the year you were apart, you grew. The love that you have is more important than anything that might separate you.
And as you lay naked together, the world opens up for you. He talks about leaving his wife and you decide your husband will be better off without you.
Will it happen? Will you finally find a way to be together in a way that works for you both? You don't know.
But you made it through this night together. Something tells you that you can make it through anything now.
******
The end?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
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von2dutch · 7 hours
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Sugar baby | Jey Uso
Part two
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Synopsis: Sex is not a big deal. ...You can have a no-strings-attached arrangement with someone you don’t care about.
Pairing: Jey uso X Black Fem reader | word count: 4.2k | warning: smut, toxic behavior , protected sex | 18+ ONLY
Hey my babies this is part two to the series hope you all enjoy this one as well! If you haven’t read the first one then go check it out. Part one| say the word
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Lastly , Enjoy
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“Jeyyy— ugh, fuck me just like that daddy” She moaned letting out a loud exclamation before enveloping the Jey’s head, her fingers tangling in his hair.
As she felt the chill of Josh's Sliver chain against her skin, a sudden shiver ran down her spine, almost like a fine mist of tiny droplets suspended in the air. The sensation was so cold and sharp that it seemed to permeate her very being, filling her with a sense of awe and wonder.
"Mmm, quiet baby, my pussy's talkin' to me." he groaned in inside her ear as he inched his fingers deeper into her hole forcing his curved dick down deeper. He tightened his arms around her body with her leggings wrapping ever so tight around him.
He wanted her to feel him alllll the way and he was successful at it. The aggression and lust filled the air as thick as a paper cut.
“Yessss Joshua!”
“You love me?” Jey moaned hormonally in her ear before flicking his tongue alone her earlobe, leaving a few wet kisses on her exposed neck.
“Huh? I asked you a fucking question.” he repeated once more speeding up his pace a loud gasp escaped her mouth with her breath taken away by how hard he was going.
He was an animal in the sheet per say.
“Yes!” Chanel shrieked out, sending shivers of passion coursing through her body, leaving her utterly in rapture. Her eyes rolled back into the back of her head as she felt an overwhelming surge of ecstasy overwhelm every inch of her being. She screamed it again, reveling in the pleasure swarming her body, reveling in it all as she told him how much she loved him. Her voice was filled with pure emotion as she said those words.
It seemed that in this very moment all he thought about was Dakota, all he could see was her; her soft touch, her gentle embrace, the light and playful touches of her short, painted nails he had paid for. It was as if she was wrapped around him with a warm, inviting hug that made him forget all about his previous encounters with countless women.
“I love you too.” Josh grunted afterwards, as much as he didn’t mean it he just said it in the moment to satisfy her.
“Daddy I’m about to cum!”
“Fuck…Cum on my dick Dakota , cover my shit!” Jey harshly mumbled on cue, Chanel reacted quickly as Joshua attempted to make a nut on her, pushing him away before he could go any further. In the heat of the moment, she lashed out and smacked him hard across the face. "What the fuck, Jey?!" she exclaimed, feeling a mix of anger and confusion at the mention of someone else’s name. Dakotas name at that.
“What?”Jey's eyes widened in confusion as he held his face, staring back at Chanel as if she had gone mad. He wondered if he had been too rough with her, or if he had accidentally caused her some pain. Before he could even open his mouth to ask her, she quickly replied with a response of her own.
Chanel shot a fierce glare at Josh as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "You just called me another bitch's name, Josh," she said, her voice dripping with anger and hurt.
“No I didn’t.” he denied.
“Yes you did.” She throw back at him quickly “you literally said Dakota, Do I look like a fucking Dakota to you? No so don’t call me that bitch name.”Chanel warned before wrapping the cover around her bare naked body grabbing her things off the floor.
“Aye, don’t call her a b!tch!”, Jey warned, his eyes filled with dominance and authority as he glared at the woman. Though he didn’t care who Chanel was to him, he wasn’t going to let her disrespect Dakota in his presence. He made his point loud and clear, his tone firm and unmistaken as he commanded her not to call her by those words.
“You know what, fuck you Jey,” Chanel shot back, angrily grabbing her white tank top shirt and throwing it over her head, storming towards the hotel door. She took one last look at him before storming out, shooting him a disgusted look as she left.
“Fuck.” Josh sighed before picking up the cover from the floor along with his black Versace boxers putting them back on he grabbed his phone from the night stand trying to reach Dakota with a call.
“Come on pick up ko.” He pleaded watching as the phone went to voicemail once again he threw his phone against the carpet floor taking a seat on the edge bed kneeling his head down rubbing against his beard mixed with grey hairs.
He had hoped she wasn’t mad about what he had said a few day ago, because if she was he didn’t understand why when they both knew the consequences of the situation. She couldn’t fall in love with him and neither could he.
He knew that he wasn’t ready for another relationship due to the recent divorce he went through a year before. The idea of falling into another serious relationship and having it go wrong was something he couldn’t bear to go through again. The difference was, though, that Dakota wasn’t that type of woman , but yet he knew he was falling for her. He knew he was falling deep for her, but he couldn’t admit it to himself.
A loud thud could be heard coming from the room as the door slammed closed, and his twin brother Jimmy walked inside, asking, "Yo uce, was that Chanel I just saw?"
Sighing, he lifted his head up and looked at his twin brother, stating, "Yeah, man."
His eyes widening and lips curling with an utter look of dissatisfaction and disgust on his face, he spoke, “I thought you were done with her, Josh. Man, where the hell is Koko at?”
“Don’t tell me you fucked up Joshua?” Jimmy stopped in his tracks staring at his brother, when he didn’t answer he knew he had fucked up.
Sitting beside him on the bed he asked “So what you do this time?”
“Uce she got mad because I said I didn’t think we could ever be a couple outside of what we do together. I mean I don’t see myself with her she just sex to me.” Josh confessed, even though it was slightly true he was also lying through his teeth.
“Look.” Jonathan forewarned “Steve wonder could see you like that Girl and is falling hard for her so just admit that shit man.”
“I know you aren’t ready for another serious relationship after what happened with Ashley and you last year, but Josh,” Jonathan said to his brother, “I know you, and I can tell when you’re in love with someone, and I can tell you’re in love with Dakota.” Jonathan went on to explain, even though it seemed like everything he was saying was going in one ear and out the other. He had hoped his brother would listen to what he had to say.
“I can list so many things of how I know you failing for this girl Josh.”
“Go ahead because I promise you I’m not in love with Dakota she just sex to me I don’t know why you can’t get that through your big ass head.” He joked but was serious as well he didn’t understand why his brother didn’t get he wasn’t in love with her as much as he tried to tell himself that.
“Okay, first off, you never take any of your clients to shows, especially live or non live televised ones. You spoil her rotten, you get mad when another man is in her presence, but you so-called don’t like her. She’s all you talk about at work, “Oh, I wonder what Dakota’s doing,” or “I wonder will Dakota like this necklace I bought her.” I mean, I could go on.”
“Two, You buy her expensive gifts and constantly check up on her to see if she needs anything. You stay up all night to talk to her when you should be resting before a show. You check your phone constantly to see if she has texted or called you, and you get upset if she doesn’t respond immediately. You’re always thinking about her, and you go out of your way to make her happy.”
“Three, You check on her both mentally and emotionally, constantly being there for her when she needs someone to talk to. You reassure her when she’s feeling down or stressed-out, and you make sure she’s okay emotionally.”
As he took in everything his brother was saying, Josh realized that he was right. He indeed did everything that was listed, because he loved Dakota, but he was scared. He was scared that the relationship wouldn’t work, but more so, he feared that it would, which is why he had been fighting his deep feelings of love for her all this time. The more he thought about it, the more his fear grew, but the more the feeling of love grew in his heart as well.
Josh loved Dakota more than anything, but for reasons unknown even to himself, he couldn’t admit it. He couldn’t even fathom the possibility of loving someone so deeply. It was as if his heart was locked up in a cage, and only Dakota had the key to his heart's release. The fear in him, the fear of love, was as great as the love he felt for Dakota. The love that he couldn’t admit to himself. The love that he was desperately trying to ignore.
“Alright, alright, I get it, Jimmy” Jey dismissed his brother, waving him off completely as he ignored what he was saying.
“Man whatever hurry and get ready with your hot dick ass.” Jimmy got up from the bed and headed towards the door, saying, “You better be down there in five minutes, Josh, ‘cause I’m the big brother!” He shouted as he walked out of the hotel room.
“Man, shut up! You’re only nine minutes older than me,” Jey shouted back, rolling his eyes, “and you act like it’s nine years!”
As Josh sat in bed thinking back to what his brother said he started to wonder did he actually love Dakota?
Was he also in love?
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Dakota.Valentine : A women irreplaceable
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“Dakota, you better be freaking ready by the time me and David get there!” Jasmine yelled into the phone during their FaceTime call with the two of them, her expression of annoyance clear on her face.
Dakota decided to go out with Jasmine and her boyfriend to a new club that had just opened up in Atlanta about a week ago called Club Pierce. It was now around 11:00 pm, but she was looking forward to the night out with her friends. She just needed to get ready, but the thought of the new club and what the night might hold filled her stomach with butterflies.
Dakota hadn't talked to Josh in a few days now, and honestly, she didn't really care to at all. Her feelings were completely bruised and broken, and she didn't know if they would ever have a chance together. As he had said, they were only having sex and nothing more, so she could do whatever she wanted. And she would, she told herself as she got ready to head to the new club.
“Girl fuck you and David I’m almost done.” Dakota rolled her eyes before she curled the last piece of her hair, sitting down and letting the flat irons cool off and unplugging them. She then threw the flat irons under the sink and grabbing her phone, grabbed her purse and headed for the door. She heard a faint knock at her door and stopped in her tracks. She wondered who was at the door.
“Who’s at your door, Kota?” Jasmine said worriedly with an expression, and Dakota responded, “I don’t know.”
"I’ll call you back, Jas," Dakota replied with a confused expression before she opened the door. Standing outside was Jey, holding flowers in his hands with pleading eyes.
Rolling her eyes, she tried to shut the door in Jey’s face, but he caught it with his foot, walking inside behind her. Taking one look back at her, he asked, “Ko, baby, please talk to me?”
Chuckling bitterly at the nickname he called her, Dakota quickly turned around with a frown on her face. “Baby?” She quickly fired back, “Last time I checked, I was your client, remember, or maybe you forgot because you were too busy fucking Chanel.”
Stunned by her new found attitude towards him Josh threw the flowers onto the ground shouting back “Dakota I ain’t fuck her!”
“Yes, you did, you ass hole. She sent me pictures of you asleep, Josh, and I know your big-ass head from anywhere!”
“Look ion even understand why you mad we’re just fucking , you’re my client just as much as she is Dakota.”
“Oh, you’re damn right, I am.” Dakota said, trying quickly to bust past Jey but he quickly pulled her back gently, turning her around to look into her eyes. “Ko, baby, why are you really mad at me?”
“Hmm? What did I do so bad? That hurt you because I apologize ma.” Josh confessed, caressing her cheek as her eyes filled with tears but she dared not let them fall and let him see her break.
“Nothing, don’t even worry about it, I have somewhere to be remember , I’m just a client.” She snarled, snatching her arm away from him, opening the door and walking out. “And lock my damn door!”
Club pierce
"Baby lemme rub, lemme rub on ya
Can I get a lil' love, lil' love from ya"
My body addictive it's driving him crazy
Think I got run from ya
The loud, catchy lyrics of Megan Thee Stallion’s song ‘Big Ole Freak’ blasted throughout the night club, the party atmosphere being illuminated by the bright, colorful lights flashing everywhere. Everything about the night club was dark but colorful, making the atmosphere exciting and dynamic.
Dakota was enjoying herself at the club, glad that she didn't have to deal with Jey for the moment since it had been two hours since she got there. The music and the party atmosphere was a good distraction from Jey, and she could just focus on enjoying herself and the club's environment.
And he wasn’t going to ruin her night.
Jasmine leaned over, shouting over the loud music to get Dakota's attention. “Koat! You want a drink?” Dakota nodded her head yes, and took the shot from Jasmine, downing it in one go. The shot burned down her throat, but she barely winced, seemingly used to the sensation.
To say the least she needed the drink to unwind tonight because it was simply fuck Jey.
Shocked by how fast Dakota took the shot she spoke”Damn Kota, you okay?”
Jasmine was shocked at how quickly Dakota took the shot down her throat. “Damn Kota, you okay?” she asked, her voice still having to be raised slightly to be heard over the loud music. Dakota didn't respond at first, seeming somewhat out of it. She then shook her head slightly, seemingly not quite ok but pretending she was fine.
“Come on let’s get up and dance on the floor! David get your ass up.” Dakota shocked excited grabbing jasmines hand leading her down to the dance floor.
The two of them danced together, having the time of their lives as they moved to the beat of the loud lyrics being played. Dakota twerked her ass on Jasmine as she cheered her on and snapped a video of them, having fun and making their own party. “Get it Kota! They ain’t fucking with you!” Jasmine cheered loudly over the music, seemingly having just as much fun as Dakota was.
After a while of dancing, the girls felt worn out and tired, so they decided to sit at the bar and take a few shots. Dakota noticed the bar tender looking at her and flirting with her, and she decided to flirt back a little, since she was single anyways."
“So this your first time here?” The bar tender asked Dakota, wiping up another drink for a customer.
Sighing Dakota rested her hands on the bar “Yeah, very first time my bestie brought me and I’m glad she did because look who I met.” She smiled her eyes slightly low staring into his eyes seductively without even trying.
Dakota sighed as she rested her hands on the bar, seeming a little tired from the whole dance session and the alcohol. She smiled as she spoke to the bar tender, “Yeah, very first time my bestie brought me and I’m glad she did because look who I met.” and was then met with his eyes seductively, which she then held. She liked the attention and the flirting, and was not even trying to be seductive. It just came naturally to her.
Dakota was naturally seductive without even trying. With her innocent eyes that were slightly lowered and her plump and big lips, she had the ability to rule guys without even thinking about it. Her seductive flirting came naturally to her, and it made her even more alluring to the bar tender.
Dakota was enjoying herself as she sat at the bar, seemingly having a nice conversation with the bar tender. However, Jasmine stepped up and tapped on her shoulder, pointing in the direction of a booth filled with a group of Samoan men. “Dakota isn’t that Jey?” One who Dakota recognized to be Jey. She turned around, and saw Jey and Chanel together in the flesh, and she immediately recognized Jey Fucking Uso. Her eyes then locked on his, and she stayed silent.
Dakota couldn't help but eye Jey from head to toe, taking in his fit in its entirety. He wore a gray, long-sleeved sweater that hugged his muscled arms tightly, and a gold chain also shining from the shirt. His white pants accompanied his white Air Forces, and he had one black cap on his head, turned slightly to the right side. His beard was also neatly groomed, and he just looked Sexy asf overall.
He looked damn good.
“Yeah that’s him, so.” Dakota spoke softly very unbothered turning back around to the bar tender continuing their conversation. “So what were you saying?”
The bar tender was seemingly puzzled at Dakota's nonchalance towards seeing Jey. 'Especially the fact he was his nephews favorite wrestler “You're not upset about seeing him here?' he questioned, since a lot of people would usually be upset about seeing an ex or just someone they knew. Dakota, however, seemed unbothered and just continued the conversation they had previously.
“Girl you and Jey need to talk like Frl. Jasmine sighed and rolled her eyes, seeming frustrated over the situation. She knew that Dakota would tend to be stubborn, and that they had this sort of status together. She also knew that they were just having casual sex, but she didn't really want to pick sides on the situation because she didn't want to put blame on either of them.
Jasmine walked away and went back to her date, David, shaking her head in disappointment. Meanwhile, she noticed that Jey was staring at Dakota, and she just rolled her eyes, knowing that the drama between them would continue. She then decided to walk up the stairs. “This gon be a long night.”
By now, it was 2 in the morning, but the group of people were still inside the club, not wanting to leave. It was clear that everyone was having a good time, and the music and drink kept everyone entertained for hours.
Jey watched Dakota closely as she danced with another man, grinding her ass back on him and throwing it all back. She did it all while she stared intently at him, like she was trying to get a reaction out of him. Jey knew that she was doing it on purpose to get a rise out of him, and it was working perfectly.
Nonetheless to say he was mad. Angry more like it.
Jeys' anger and jealousy burned through him as he saw Dakota dancing and grinding her ass back on that other man. He wanted to walk down there and punch him out for even looking her way and touching her, but he knew that there were too many eyes and ears inside the club that would get him fired and thrown on the shade room in seconds. So, he had to try and stay cool instead and try and contain his anger.
Jeys' drink tasted bitter as he looked at Dakota more, his eyes glued to her. Chanel kept attempting to get Jey's attention, but he paid her no mind on the floor and continued watching Dakota. The whole club seemed to be watching Dakota more than anything, so all attention was on her, rather than Chanel.
“I see you eyeing her , Damn she bad you know her?” His cousin Zilla asked sitting beside him drinking on a glass as well.
Jey spoke possessively and confidently about Dakota, like she was his girl and that there was no one else. "She's my girl, that's who she is.' he said in a cocky and confident voice, his bassy, low voice indicating the possessive dominance he had towards her. As well as not wanting to show much she meant to him he did.
Throwing his hands up in surrender he replied back “ oh my bad cous but go get your girl cause she dancing mighty hard on dude on the floor.” He joked while Jey glared at him. Jimmy then walked up to Jey and put his hand on his shoulder, signaling for him to look up. Jimmy's presence distracted Jey, and he glanced over at him. 'Yo man, what's good? Need something?" Jimmy asked, seemingly unaware of the tension between Jey and Dakota.
Jimmy looked over and realized where Jey's focus was, and the sight of Dakota dancing on another man. He let out a sigh and said 'Josh, if you don't take your ass down there and speak to that girl. You've been staring at her all night, uce, and she's probably wondering why.' He had a lighthearted tone when saying it, wanting to ease the tension and get Jey to go confront Dakota instead of stewing in his emotions.
Taking the initiative Jey got up from the seat without a word heading down to the dance floor he brushed past the crowd and a couple fans asking for pictures he pushed the man back harshly before gently grabbing Dakotas arm “Dakota come on we leaving.”
Dakota was caught off guard when she felt her arm being rudely grabbed by Jey without any warning whatsoever. She turned to look at him, her eyes narrowing slightly, feeling slightly frustrated by the way he grabbed her arm without taking into consideration how she felt.
Dakota had a pissed off look on her face as she yanked her arm back strongly, showing her disgust and frustration with what Jey did. She had had enough of his bullshit, and she was clearly done with him and all of his stupid games. "Jey, fuck you. I'm not going anywhere with you.” She shouted over the loud music, being loud enough for everyone around to hear her and stop talking, looking for the source of her yelling.
Jey had a look of dominance fall over his face as he glared back at Dakota, his gaze firm and full of conviction. He knew that he was able to overpower and get his way with her, and he showed no signs of relenting either. When he spoke to her, he did so with a firm and final tone, “Dakota if I repeat myself you gon make the shit you got coming worse then it already is.”
Dakota pouted as she let herself be dragged outside of the club, following behind him and following his lead despite the fact that she didn't want to. She was annoyed and angry at him, but she still followed him, likely because she knew he was stronger than her and that he could easily overpower her. When she got into the car, she didn't hold back. "You know what, Jey? Fuck you. I don't know what you're on, but take me the fuck home," she said harshly.
Sighing in frustration he closed the door and got inside the car ran to the other side he pulled off getting on the interstate.
Jey gripped the steering wheel with his left hand firmly while his right rested on Dakota’s ’inner thigh, squeezing here and there.
He could tell that he had her body feeling some kind of way because he felt her somewhat shivering under his touch. He licked his full lips before taking his eyes off of the road and glancing over at her. “Look ko, Im sorry aight? I ain’t m—.”
“Whatever Joshua .” She mumbled, cutting him off while leaning against the window. “It doesn’t even matter anymore.”
“It do though, cause now you mad at me and haven’t spoken to me.” Jey's tone suddenly became softer when he spoke about how she was obviously mad at him. He was still looking over at her, and his eyes seemed to be more gentle and caring than before. "I'm right, aren't I? You're mad at me, and you haven't spoken to me at all." He said softly and calmly, as though he wanted to have a civil conversation with her.
“I’m not mad.” She denied once more.
“So you ignorin’ my calls , texts, and missing my show twice is you not bein’ mad?”
“I just didn’t wanna talk to you Jey, damn!” She yelled and smacked his hand away from touching her, now irritated.
“Don’t be raisin’ yo gahdamn voice at me girl! I’m tryna tell yo ass what the fuck it was and you ain’t even tryna listen to what I gotta say!”
“Because I don’t care! Better yet, pull over and let me out! I’ll find my own way home, I’m not about to do this with you!”
She reached for the door handle but Jey had gripped the back of her neck tightly, forcing her back body to come back. “Yo ass ain’t goin’ no damn where!”
Dakota huffed and folded her arms across her chest for the rest of the ride. Minutes later, they were pulling up at what she she knew was Josh house. Just as she looked over at him to fuss about him not taking her home, he leaned over the middle console and smashed his lips on to hers.
She moaned softly into the kiss, placing her hands on either side of his face as he placed his right hand firmly around her neck. The kiss began to get heated once their tongues started having an all out war, causing Jey’s dick to stiffen in his jeans and Dakota’s pussy to become moist.
Their make out session was broken when Jey pulled away while still keeping his hand around her neck. “You gon’ let me fuck you Pretty mama?”
“J-Jeyyyy.” Dakota moaned as he pushed two of his fingers inside of her, curving them each he pulled them out.
She was laid out across the back seat of his red Rolls Royce, completely naked with her smooth legs wide open as josh gently flicked his tongue against it a few times before fully latching his mouth onto it, sucking feverishly while continuing to slide his fingers in and out of her.
Dakota gasped when she felt his fingers start move inside of her in a circular motion, pushing her closer to her orgasm.
Josh felt her walls tighten around his fingers and Dakota gripped onto his shoulder as she felt her stomach tightening up. “You cummin’ huh mama?”
“Oh my God, yesssss!” She shouted as she came hard, covering Jey’s handsome face with her sweet juices.
“You taste good as fuck.” Jey licked her completely clean before sitting up.
Seconds later, Dakota sat up as well and pulled Jey’s face to hers, starting up another kissing match, which Josh eventually took the lead in and won.
She climbed over onto his lap, placing her legs on either side of him as the kiss grew more and more intense. She reached under herself and started to unbuckle his pants to free his beyond hard curved dick, something that she had been yearning for.
Josh caught her drift and lifted his hips, sliding his pants down and kicking them off completely. He broke the kiss to get rid of his shirt as well, throwing it to the opposite side of them.
Dakota reached down and grabbed his thick length, placing him at her entrance then sliding down onto it slowly, causing them both to moan in unison from the newfound pleasure on both ends. He gripped her ass tightly, loving how her wet pussy felt around his dick.
She always fit around him, perfectly.
“Ohhh babbby.” She leaned her head back in ecstasy as he gripped her hips, massaging them as she rode him.
“It feel good ma?”
“Sooo good baby, fuck!” Dakota grabbed his face and kissed him hard. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and she sucked on it.
Jey cut the kiss and lifted her off of him, leaving only his tip in and slammed her back down on him hard.
“Waaait!” She screamed as he repeated his last action, obviously feeling too much pleasure.
“Ain’t no wait!” Josh began thrusting upwards at a faster pace, fucking her even harder.
Dakota felt yet another orgasm creeping up on her, causing her to grip onto his broad shoulders as he slapped her ass cheek. “Mhm, cum on this dick.”
And that’s exactly what she did, shaking violently as her juices began to flow out and down onto him.
Jey waiting a few seconds for her to come down from her high and then slid lifted her smaller frame off of him, placing her on the seat. “Turn around and get on all fours fa me baby.”
Dakota did as told and Jey then hovered over her, high key loving the view. He placed one of his large hands on her hips while using the other to stroke himself before finally pushing back into her deeply.
“Fuck man.” He grunted lowly, now finding a specific pace to stroke her.. slow.
She then started throwing it back a slightly faster than the pace he was going at, so he took the hint and sped up his strokes. He bit down on his bottom lip and closed his eyes, loving the way her pussy felt and the gushy sound it made as he repeatedly slammed into her.
“This my pussy Dakota ?” Jey asked before gripping her hair and bringing her head up.
“Yes Daddy, it’s yours!”
“Yeah?”
“Yesssss! Ohhh my fu— baby, I’m cumming!” Dakota moaned loudly, triggering Jey’s own nut that was now approaching.
“Hold that shit baby. I’ma cum with you, aight?” Jey told her and at that moment Dakota felt his dick throbbing inside of her.
“I— fuck josh!” She came and squirted, causing her juices to spray all over his lower half and push him completely out of her.
After needing a few seconds to calm down, Dakota pushed Jey back down onto the seat. She used her small hands to grip his dick that was covered in her juices and wrapped her lips around it. He held her hair as she rolled her tongue around on his tip a few times before swallowing him down completely, without gagging.
Jey’s head flew back against the headrest as he enjoying the feeling of her throating his whole length.
“Shit princess.”
“You a slut ass bitch huh?” He cheered on holding her hair gripping it with force. “Mmhm gimme that shit Dakota.”
Dakota came up for air and started massaging his balls with one hand and stroked him with the other, trying to milk him.
“Hold on Dakota, fuck!” josh growled out once he felt his dick twitching.
She placed her lips back on his throbbing tip and started sucking, which was all that was needed for his hips to start jerking and his warm load to shoot down her throat.
Dakota made sure that she sucked every last drop completely out of him before pulling back, claiming the spot on the opposite side of him.
Maybe they both were in love?
To be continued.
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I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as well!
It was a roll coaster but it’s more to come but I promise next chapter will be better mostly romantic.
Comment any opinions on any of the characters or the overall of the chapter.
Till next time. Love you all thank you for tuning in!🎀
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spectres-n-soap · 2 days
Text
One Step Forward, Three Steps Back - Ghost x You x Soap
Content Warnings - pregnancy, afab!fem!reader, panic attack
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You look at yourself in the mirror, you feel different. You feel like you’re getting better and you have expressed this to Dr Miller, told him how you think you’re starting to get better.
He had smiled at you, congratulated you but also warned you that healing is not linear. Much like an old scar, sometimes it’ll ache and you might find yourself hurting all day. You, being a soldier with a few scars that did happen to ache some days, took this like cough medicine. You knew that healing wasn’t linear. How many times have you broken something or needed stitches? You knew that healing was never as easy as it sounded. But today, you felt good. You’ve been feeling good all week despite the anxiety at the back of your mind, like a predator readying itself to strike at the unsuspecting prey. But you suspect it and therefore aren’t prey. You aren’t prey.
Simon peaks his head into the bathroom, checking on you like a mother hen. Last week, after returning home from dinner, you hadn’t just taken a step forward. You felt like it was a giant leap.
”You can sleep in the bed.” You murmured, finding it hard to meet his eyes when you said it.
”You’re not taking the couch.” Simon said gruffly and you cannot help the way your eyes rolled.
”No you wanker, I mean with me.” You huffed, annoyance washed away any sense of apprehension about offering this to him. You had been feeling bad about him sleeping on the floor next to you just so you could hold his hand on nights when you find it hard to sleep. Which seemed to be every night when you weren’t holding his hand.
Simon clutched the steering wheel of the vehicle, his knuckles nearly go white. You don’t notice it or pretend not to. He can’t tell, not when he has to focus on not crashing the car from the shock of you saying that. Finally he manages to speak again, “Okay, if that’s what you want.” He was not shocked to see you had put a pillow wall between him and you. He expected and found it surprisingly easy to settle into bed.
You smile at him, a thing that you feel like you’ve been doing more often. Yesterday you had smiled so wide your cheeks had hurt when Simon had brought home your favorite takeout while you had taken a short nap on the couch. “You sure about this?” He asks again and you roll your eyes with a smile.
”You sound like a dad.” You tease as you walk past him and grab your slip on shoes. “Yes, I’m sure. It’ll be good for me, even my therapist says so.” You comment as you slip the shoes on with a little more trouble than normal. You frown just a little, your feet have become more swollen. God damn it.
”I’m just making sure.” Simon says as he grabs your purse and hands it to you. “You’ll call me if you need me, right?” He asks and you can see the worry in his brown eyes. Genuine worry for you and you pat his bicep reassuringly.
”I will Simon.”
The group is nice. Although most of the women are a little less far along as you, they welcome you in with open arms. People discuss names for their babies, the genders and how excited or nervous they are. One woman, a pretty woman named Linda who is closest to you in terms of months, immediately brings you into her small group of women. They chatter and blessedly, don’t try to pry into your life. They don’t ask about your husband or the gender of the baby, the only thing they ask about is the name.
Your cheeks turn warm when you admit you hadn’t looked into any baby names yet. Linda gasps, jokingly, and offers you her baby name book, saying “I’ve already got my baby girl’s name picked out. I’ve had my eye on it since I was a little girl. I read it somewhere. Ophelia, how pretty of a name is that?” You smile and agree that it's a beautiful name. For once, you wonder if the baby is going to be a boy or a girl.
Everyone settles down when the teacher(?) starts. She goes over some things that every parent needs to know once the baby is here. How to make a bottle of milk, how to change a diaper, how to help get the baby on a sleeping schedule so you don’t go insane from lack of sleep and resources for postpartum depression. The class, overall, is wonderful. Most of the stuff you knew about but you have a feeling half of the reason for these classes is to know you aren’t alone and to make future new moms.
You’re walking up to Linda with the intention to give her your number so the two of you can text about the struggles of being this far along in a pregnancy. How achey your feet are or how your favorite foods seem to have been ruined. You stop dead in your tracks when you see her husband, it must be her husband since you saw the ring on her finger, come up to her.
All the warmth in the room seems to be sucked out when you see him. Messy brown hair, a bright and mischievous smile with a matching set of bright blue eyes that remind you of those springs in Florida that somehow keep getting advertised to you despite living in the UK.
He looks exactly like Johnny. So much like him that for a moment you think it is him until reality comes crashing down, you watch him smile down at her and kiss her tenderly. Your stomach lurches and your eyes burn, breathing becomes a struggle as you turn on your heel and rush towards the bathroom. You shut the door and lock it behind you, ignoring anyone who tries to talk to you and throw up into the toilet. You retch up your breakfast and that little fruity drink you had grabbed on the way here. Hot tears run down your face as you heave up everything in your stomach and then some.
You fall back, the taste of bile in your mouth only adds to whatever is happening as you sob. You grab at your hair as you cry and wonder what is going on. Why is this happening? Why now? You were doing so good! What did you do wrong? You should have never left the house, should have listened to Simon and stayed home.
Simon.
You fumble in your bag and shakily unlock your phone, immediately finding his contact in your phone and calling him. “Simon.” You sob into the line and he immediately knows.
”I’ll be right there luv, stay on the line with me yeah?”
”Okay.” You warble out as you struggle to breath past the sobs that shake your entire body.
”You got to breathe luv, can you do that for me? In, hold for three, out.” Simon talks you through it on speaker as he immediately begins to drive to you.
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theetherealbloom · 2 days
Text
BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM - CH.4
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Chapter 4: ​​Scandal Does Funny Things To Pride, But Brings Lovers Closer
Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.
Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking Around, FLUFF, LOTS OF SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Oral Male Receiving, Penetration Kissing, Barely any plot, NOT A SLOW BURN AT ALL, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content, Size Kink, Reader is “smaller” than Joel but no further descriptions, Breeding Kink, PWP (wrap it up), Body worship, declaring their love for each other, 
Word Count: 5.8k
A/N: I wrote this in two days and I’m lowkey unsure if this all makes sense LMAO. So here we are, at the final chapter… tf am I gonna do now… (*stares at all the unfinished series rewrites*) well… damn. See you at the epilogue. 
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift
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Joel doesn't think you both slept a wink that first week, the two of you creeping around in the dead of night and again in the pre-dawn light. You were over at Joel's place every morning, right after your dad left for work. He still thinks you're in your own bed every night, only helping Joel out part-time during the day.
But in between when he leaves for work and when he gets home for dinner, you're right where you belong – by Joel's side. Or, in most cases, bouncing your fine ass on the end of his thick, throbbing cock until you're screaming his name into a pillow.
It's not as if you haven't tried to tell your dad the truth. Joel has, too. But it cuts him up to keep anything from his oldest friend, especially when he sees your dad on such a high. Telling him the reality of the situation would surely ruin him.
Even though Joel knows it's the right thing to do, the thought of shattering your father's newfound joy and confidence is almost too much to bear. He's seen the way your dad's face lights up when he talks about the success of his business, all thanks to Joel's intervention.
Your dad is even making noise about setting up a workshop on the East Coast, making Joel's original idea sound like his own. But if it makes him happy, Joel's happy. Because of all that, you and Joel made a pact – if your dad asks either of you directly if you're anything more than just friends, you'll tell him the truth. But he's been so busy that neither of you have actually seen much of him at all.
As uneasy as it makes Joel, keeping the both of you a secret just a little longer seems like the easiest way to avoid making waves. Or so Joel thought. It's been two weeks to the day, and Joel doesn't think you or him have ever been happier your whole lives, except for the sneaking around past your dad bit.
But your dad is no dummy. And Joel can see now that he should have just come out with it, long before helping him get his business into first gear. You both guess that you two got lazy.
It happens right after another one of your father's dinners on a Friday night. He's insisted Joel, Tommy, and Sarah come over, and he'll cook for all of you. But come eleven o'clock, when Tommy and Sarah go home, and then midnight, you and Joel are giving each other guarded glances. And your dad takes on the air of a man who has something to say.
"I should probably head to bed," you say, about to excuse yourself, but your dad asks you to sit.
"You don't have to pretend anymore, honey," your dad says calmly, shaking his head and laughing to himself. But it's not a happy laugh – it's a wounded, ironic kind of grimace he wears as his eyes settle on Joel's.
"And you, Joel? I suppose you're beat after spending the day with my daughter 'helping you out' around the house, huh?" your dad says cuttingly, but he regains his composure quickly.
"I guess I have somethin' to tell you," Joel croaks, trying to swallow but feeling his mouth dry as dirt.
"I guess we both have something to tell you," you add, making Joel jump when your hand slips into his, and you rest them both on the table.
Your dad takes in a sharp breath, steadying himself, and Joel has to say, he's being a fucking man about it. "So go ahead," he murmurs.
"Tell me all about it," he says before raising his hand quickly. "No. Don't tell me all about it. I don't need to know the sordid details... Just tell me when all this started, Joel. You too, hon'," he asks, looking over to you, his eyes filling up with tears before either of you even says a word.
"How could you?" he sniffs bitterly, looking every bit as hurt and betrayed as Joel thought he might, but he's not angry. Not angry at all. Just hurt that you two have been fooling around behind his back and keeping secrets.
You feel upset too and lower your head in shame, but Joel, for one, feels better now that he knows. The burden of the lie has been removed, and he's ready to face the consequences, whatever they may be.
Joel takes a deep breath, his hand tightening around yours. "I've been in love with her since the day she graduated," he tells your father, his voice steady and unwavering.
"Things moved quicker than I thought, and it wasn't until we both knew how much we were in love that it meant hurting you if you knew," Joel explains, not making excuses, but trying to help your dad understand.
Your father is silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "So. You coming all the way out here, for good. All that was just a way to get to her?" he asks, his tone laced with a hint of accusation.
"Don't twist it to make it look like that," Joel retorts, but your dad isn't entirely wrong.
"I meant what I said about helping you, and I still do," Joel reminds him, his voice firm.
"I can give her more than any man half my age, too. Give her a life..." Joel trails off, his words hanging in the air.
The tension in the room is palpable as your dad's anger flares, his words sharp and cutting. "What? Give her a life her father couldn't? She's my fucking daughter, Joel. Who the fuck asked you to help yourself, huh?" he demands, his frustration evident. But you interject, your own voice rising in defense.
"I'm not a kid anymore, Dad. I'm an adult. And I know you've provided for me, always made sure I have everything I need," you assert, your tone firm and unwavering.
"But do you think a woman like me is ever gonna have a guy like Joel just breeze into town, sweep me off my feet, and then let him go?" you challenge defiantly. "Getting eight bucks an hour tutoring part-time and living with my Dad into my old age isn’t the kind of life I had planned for myself."
Joel admires your fire, proud of you for speaking your mind. The air crackles with tension, but at least everyone is having their fair say. Despite the burning bridge, the honesty in the room feels like a weight lifted off your shoulders.
For your dad to take the news without his fists flying, Joel realizes he's matured more gracefully than he would have given him credit for. The pulse of the moment slows, the truth out in the open. No more hiding, but decisions loom ahead that may not be easy.
Your father reflects, a nostalgic air settling around him. "I knew that day of your graduation, sweetheart. And I know you better than you think, Joel," he says, his gaze shifting between the two of you. "I just didn't want to believe it."
"I love her," Joel declares, his voice unwavering. "I'm having his baby, Dad," you begin, the revelation causing a moment of shock between both your dad and Joel, before your laughter breaks the tension.
“You should have seen your faces.” You chuckle a little.
"Honestly, I want to have his kids, Dad. I want us to be together forever. I want to take care of Sarah. House, kids... the whole nine yards," you chime in, relief evident in your voice.
Your father's response is unexpected, a mix of emotions playing across his face. "I know you do, sweetie," he comforts you, a smile creasing his face. "You wanna be the mom you never had. And I guess I just didn't wanna lose the little girl I raised all on my own."
As your father prepares to leave, the moment's weight settles over you all. "I just need time, Joel," he finally says. "Time to get used to all this... Time to get used to not having her around."
The nuclear fallout you both expected never came, not in the way you expected. The night ends with a sense of understanding and acceptance, your father's blessing a silent promise of support and love.
Walking home next door, the weight of the evening hangs heavy in the air. In the quiet of your shared bed, you find solace in Joel's arms, the raw emotion of the moment bringing you closer than ever before. You are crying in his embrace, the tears flowing freely as the tension and relief of the confrontation with your father wash over you.
But it feels just as good to Joel, this shared vulnerability. Sharing the not-so-great times as well as the good times – this is what being with someone is truly all about. The good thing is that you don't have to keep anything secret anymore, and better still, you both have your dad's blessing.
Probably the most important thing for Joel, because without his best friend and the woman he loves, where would he be?
"We good?" you sniffle, rubbing your puffy eyes as you look up at Joel. He lifts your face from his chest, holding you close.
"Oh, we're better than good, darlin'," he smiles back at you. "We're perfect," he tells you, stroking your hair as you lie silent for a long time.
"I love you," you eventually murmur, drifting into a dreamless sleep with a little smile playing on your lips.
"And I love you more," he promises you, kissing your forehead goodnight. He's already waiting for the morning so he can tell you the same again, his heart swelling with the knowledge that you are his, and he is yours, without the need for secrecy or shame.
The weight of the evening has lifted, replaced by a sense of relief and contentment. No longer do you have to tiptoe around, hiding your love and affection. Your father's blessing, though not without its reservations, is a testament to the depth of your connection and the trust he has in Joel to care for you.
As you sleep peacefully in Joel's arms, he can't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude. This woman, this life, is more than he ever dared to dream of. With your father's acceptance, the path ahead is clearer, and Joel is determined to cherish every moment, to build a future that will make you both proud.
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As you stir from the depths of slumber, the remnants of a dream linger, tantalizing and vivid. Joel's image flickers in your mind, a hunger burning behind your eyelids, a relentless craving that claws at your senses.
With a slow, drowsy blink, reality floods back, engulfing you in a haze of sensation. Heat coils low in your belly, radiating outward as awareness seeps into every pore. And then you feel it—the intoxicating pressure between your thighs, a languid caress that sends sparks shooting up your spine.
Your gaze drifts downward, heart pounding in your chest as you take in the sight before you. Joel lies beneath the duvet, his form obscured yet unmistakable in the dim light. His rugged features are softened by the shadows, the scruff of his beard grazing your skin like a promise unspoken.
A shiver courses through you as his tongue dances over your slick folds, igniting a firestorm of need that threatens to consume you whole. Your back arches involuntarily, a breathy sigh escaping your lips as pleasure blossoms deep within.
"Joel... fuck..." you moan, the words torn from your throat in a desperate plea for more. His head emerges from beneath the covers, lips glistening with your essence, eyes smoldering with untamed desire.
"You gotta be quiet, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice thick with a southern drawl that sends shivers cascading down your spine. "Might wake the whole house up. Can you do that for me, be a good girl?"
Your heart pounds in your chest, pulse racing as his words wash over you like a wave crashing against the shore. With a nod, you bite down on your lip, a silent promise of compliance as you surrender to the whirlwind of sensation engulfing you.
As Joel's tongue delves deeper, tracing patterns of ecstasy along your sensitive flesh, your senses spiral out of control. Every flick, every swirl sends shockwaves of pleasure cascading through your body, igniting a fierce inferno that threatens to consume you whole.
"Fuck, Joel," you whimper, fingers tangling in the sheets as you surrender to the heady rush of sensation. His touch is electric, setting your nerve endings ablaze with a fervor unlike anything you've ever known.
With a low growl, Joel's lips capture yours in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a passionate dance of desire. His hands roam over your trembling form, tracing the curves of your body with reverent exploration.
"You taste like heaven, darlin'," he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot against your ear. "Gonna make you scream my name until the whole damn house knows who you belong to."
A shudder wracks your body at his words, desire pooling low in your belly as you succumb to the primal urge driving you both. With a wordless plea, you arch into his touch, craving more of him with every fiber of your being.
Joel's fingers slip between your thighs, finding you slick and ready for him. With a wicked grin, he teases your entrance, circling your clit with agonizing slowness before plunging deep inside you with a single, relentless thrust.
"Fuck, yes," you cry out, the words torn from your lips in a breathless plea for more. Joel's pace quickens, each thrust driving you higher and higher until you're teetering on the edge of oblivion.
In the soft glow of morning light streaming through the window, you find yourself tangled in Joel's embrace, limbs intertwined in a mess of sheets and limbs. His chest rises and falls with each breath, the rhythmic cadence a comforting lullaby as you revel in the aftermath of your shared passion.
With a tender sigh, Joel presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle against your feverish skin. "God, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I could spend eternity right here, just like this."
You feel the heat stain your cheeks at his words, warmth flooding your veins at the intensity of his gaze. "I feel the same way," you whisper, fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. "Being with you like this... it's like coming home."
Joel's lips curve into a tender smile, his eyes alight with adoration as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "You're my home, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice a soft rasp that sends shivers dancing down your spine. "And I'll do anything to make sure you feel safe and loved, always."
His words linger in the air, a comforting blanket enveloping you. In Joel's embrace, you discover a sense of peace, a haven amidst life's storms. Here, in this quiet moment, you realize that with Joel beside you, and you're so excited and can't wait to see what happens next.
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As the morning sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the breakfast table, you took a deep breath and shared the news with Sarah and Tommy. The revelation of your relationship with Joel and your decision to stay with them while your dad was away for the week hung in the air, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.
Sarah's eyes lit up with joy, her enthusiasm palpable as she practically bounced in her seat, devouring her scrambled eggs with gusto. Tommy, ever the observant one, shot you both a sly look that made your cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.
You knew you needed to work on being quieter, but it was a challenge when Joel had a way of taking you to heights of pleasure that left you gasping and moaning, unable to contain the sounds of ecstasy that escaped your lips.
The dynamic between the four of you shifted subtly, a new energy crackling in the air as the unspoken tension of your newfound relationship with Joel lingered between bites of toast and sips of coffee. Sarah's infectious excitement was contagious, her chatter filling the room with a sense of camaraderie and shared secrets.
Tommy's knowing glances added a layer of intrigue to the morning, his playful smirk hinting at a deeper understanding of the dynamics at play. You couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at the thought of Joel's touch, his presence a magnetic pull that left you yearning for more, even in the most mundane moments.
As the morning unfolded, the anticipation of the week ahead hung in the air, a mix of uncertainty and excitement swirling around the breakfast table. The unspoken promise of stolen moments and whispered confessions added a layer of tension to the morning routine, turning the mundane into something charged with possibility.
With each passing minute, the weight of your decision to stay with Sarah and Tommy while your dad was away settled over you, a mix of nerves and anticipation building in the pit of your stomach.
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As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape, you found yourself in the midst of a perfect evening with Joel. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze created a soothing backdrop to your shared moment.
Joel's hand in yours felt like a perfect fit, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. The two of you had decided to take a leisurely stroll through the nearby park, the soft grass underfoot adding to the sense of intimacy that enveloped you both.
As you walked side by side, the conversation flowed effortlessly between you, a mix of playful banter and heartfelt confessions that deepened the connection between you. Joel's laughter was like music to your ears, his Texan drawl adding a touch of charm to every word he spoke.
"You know, darlin', I can't get enough of these little moments with you," Joel said, his gaze warm and adoring. "It's like the rest of the world just fades away when I'm with you."
You felt a blush creep across your cheeks, your heart fluttering at his words. "I feel the same way, Joel. Being here with you, it's like everything else just falls away."
The setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a romantic glow over the scene. You couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, his features bathed in the warm light, his eyes reflecting the beauty of the moment.
As you reached a secluded spot by a tranquil pond, Joel's gaze met yours, a silent understanding passing between you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, his touch sending a surge of desire through you. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of shared intimacy.
"I can't get enough of you," Joel murmured, his voice low and husky. "Every moment with you feels like a dream."
You melted into his embrace, the heat of his body searing through you. The air crackled with tension, desire simmering just beneath the surface as you lost yourselves in each other.
The soft rustle of the wind in the trees provided a gentle soundtrack to your shared moment, heightening the sense of intimacy between you. In that perfect moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of Joel's touch, you felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you.
As the evening drew to a close, the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, casting a magical spell over the night. With Joel by your side, you felt like anything was possible, the future stretching out before you like a blank canvas waiting to be painted with the colors of your love.
The stars had begun to twinkle in the darkening sky, lending an enchanted quality to the night. As you and Joel continued your leisurely stroll through the park, hand-in-hand, you couldn't help but be filled with a sense of wonder and possibility.
As if reading your thoughts, Joel squeezed your hand gently, his dimpled smile lighting up his features. "What's got you smiling like that, darlin'?" he asked, his affectionate nickname for you causing a flutter in your heart.
"I don't know," you replied honestly. "I just feel so... happy."
Joel's smile widened at your words. "Me too. Being here with you feels like magic."
You walked in comfortable silence for a while, taking in the sights and sounds around you. The chirping of crickets, the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze, the distant hum of traffic - it all blended together to create a peaceful symphony that added to the romantic atmosphere.
As you reached a small clearing by a pond, Joel guided you towards a bench tucked away under a weeping willow tree. Sitting down beside him, you leaned against his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you.
"This is perfect," he said softly, gazing out at the tranquil water. "Just being here with you under this beautiful sky."
The next few days were a whirlwind of stolen glances and heated touches, the air thick with unspoken desire and anticipation. Every stolen moment with Joel left you breathless, your skin tingling with the promise of what was to come. The thought of your father's imminent return lingered in the back of your mind, but in Joel's arms, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of shared intimacy.
One evening, as you stood side by side in the cozy kitchen, the scent of simmering spices filling the air, Joel's presence was a magnetic pull you couldn't resist. Without warning, he pulled you into his arms, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that left you dizzy with need.
"I've been craving this all day, darlin'," Joel murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin.
A soft giggle escaped your lips, your fingers trailing down the strong lines of his jaw. "You certainly know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?"
Joel's eyes gleamed with mischief, a wicked grin playing on his lips. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what I have in store for you. I'm just gettin’ started."
Before you could respond, Joel scooped you up in his arms, a playful glint in his eyes as he carried you towards the bedroom. Your heart raced with excitement, your arms wrapping around his neck as he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body pressing against yours in a deliciously intimate embrace.
The room was bathed in a soft, golden light, the air heavy with the promise of passion and desire. Joel's touch ignited a fire within you, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that mirrored your own. Every caress, every kiss, sent a jolt of electricity through you, building the tension between you to a fever pitch.
Joel's breath was hot against your skin, his body moving in time with the rhythm of your own desires. He pulled away for a moment, gazing into your eyes, the only source of light in the room casting shadows across his face. "I love you," he whispered, his voice husky with need.
You couldn't respond, lost in the intensity of the moment. Your heart pounded in your chest, matching the throbbing pulse of desire between your legs. With a low growl, Joel moved his lips to yours once more, his tongue probing your mouth with a fierce hunger.
The sound of your labored breaths, mingling with the low growls of desire that escaped his lips. The air grew heavy with anticipation, charged by the electricity that crackled between you. His fingers traced the sensitive skin at the apex of your thighs, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your veins.
The heat radiating from his body, the primal energy pulsing between you. As he pulled you closer, your muscles tensed in anticipation, every cell in your body yearning for the connection.
His lips met yours in a searing kiss, their tongues dancing together in a frenzied tango of need. You could taste the sweetness of desire on his lips, the tang of salt from your tears of pleasure. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory.
You couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement as he spoke those words. You wanted nothing more than to take him into your mouth, venturing into the world of pleasure and sin that awaited you. You opened your mouth, allowing your tongue to dart out and wet your lips in anticipation, his eyes never leaving yours.
He guided his erection towards your mouth, the velvety head brushing against your lips. You opened wider, welcoming his invasion. His eyes darkened, and he groaned as you enveloped the entirety of his shaft in your warm embrace. You began to suck gently, the rhythmic motion of your head creating a wet, slurpy sound as your lips and tongue massaged him.
As he thrust deeper into your mouth, you struggled to breathe, your lungs involuntarily attempting to escape the suffocating embrace of his thick, pulsating member. Yet, you remained steadfast, determined to please him, to satiate his carnal desires.
His animalistic groans echoed in your ears, as though the very walls of the room had begun to quiver in response to his euphoric release. You could feel his veins, now bulging with the ferocity of his climax, vibrate against your sensitive lips and tongue, heightening the already intense sensations coursing through your body.
You could feel his heart pounding wildly, the rhythm syncing with the beats of your own. The room was filled with his scent, musk and sweat, a potent mix that drove you on. Your tongue swirled around his hard length, savoring the taste of him.
His hands gave your head a gentle squeeze, urging you on. His pleasure was your reward, the way his breath hitched and his hips thrust harder. You moved your head in time with his, sucking him deep, keeping a steady rhythm as his release approached.
The sudden tightening of his body spoke of his climax, and you knew you had to continue. Your lips glided up and down his shaft, focusing all your attention on the growing flutters within him.
Finally, he groaned, his release a hot, salty flood that filled your mouth. You swallowed quickly, eager to please him, the taste lingering on your tongue like the first bite of a ripe peach. He pulled away, breathless and flushed, his eyes locked on yours in a silent communion of satisfaction.
“You’re turn, darlin’,” Joel says, his eyes dark and his voice deep as midnight. You feel him grab your hips and begins to devour you, kissing every inch of skin and grabbing your body with an almost primal hunger. The air around you seems to grow thick with desire as you cling to him, your breath catching in your throat. He slides his hands up under your shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine, and you can't help but arch into his touch, moaning softly.
Joel's lips trail down your neck, and you suck in a sharp breath as his teeth gently scrape against your delicate skin. A warm flush spreads across your body, and you feel yourself growing bolder, more willing with each passing moment. He bites down gently, leaving a mark that matches the one he gave you days ago, and you shudder with pleasure.
His lips explore every part of your body, getting closer and closer to your core. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his desire for you palpable in his every touch. The pace quickens as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently, a possession claim of sorts. Your breath hitches, your heart pounding in your chest, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.
His hands, strong and calloused, graze the soft skin at the nape of your neck, expertly unfastening the delicate clasp of your dress. It falls to the ground, pooling around your ankles, leaving you exposed in just a lace-edged bra and matching underwear. 
Simultaneously, his hands slide beneath your underwear, his fingers exploring, tracing patterns and leaving trails of fire on your skin. He pauses, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze fierce and unyielding. In that moment, you feel a connection, a bond that transcends physical desire. It's more than just lust; it's passion, raw and unbridled.
The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, skin against skin, and moans of pleasure, creating a symphony of desire that drowns out any other noise.
The air is heavy with the scent of sweat and musk, a heady mixture that serves to heighten the sensual atmosphere. The lingering scent of scented candles adds a touch of sweetness to the mix.
You can't take it anymore. The anticipation, the desire, it's all too much. Your body is on fire, begging for release. And Joel knows it.
"Fuck, Joel, please," you whine, your hips grinding against his in desperation.
He chuckles darkly, his lips grazing against your neck. "Alright, baby," he murmurs, and before you know it, he has entered you.
His cock slides into your weeping hole with ease; you're slick and wet from both arousal and anticipation. You gasp at the feeling of him filling you up completely, every inch of him stretching you in all the right ways.
Joel's movements are slow and deliberate at first, as if savoring every moment. But soon enough, the pace quickens as he pounds into you with a primal need. 
Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, each thrust sending shivers of pleasure through you.
Moans and gasps escape your lips uncontrollably as Joel hits all the right spots within you. Every touch feels like electricity coursing through your veins; every kiss like a fire burning between you two.
Your fingers grip onto his back desperately as he brings you closer to the edge. Your moans become louder and more frantic as your body tenses with impending release.
With one final thrust, Joel pushes both of you over the edge into pure ecstasy. Your bodies tremble together as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. You cling onto each other tightly as powerful orgasms rock through your bodies.
As you come down from your high, Joel pulls out of you gently and collapses beside you on the bed. Your breathing is heavy and labored as both of your hearts beat in sync.
Joel pulls a blanket over both of your naked bodies before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close to him. You snuggle into his chest contentedly, feeling more satisfied and loved than you ever have before.
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The sunlight streams in through the window, casting a warm glow over your tangled bodies. You stir, slowly coming to consciousness as the events of last night flood back to you.
Your eyes flutter open and you find yourself staring into Joel's deep brown gaze. He smiles at you, his fingers still tracing soothing patterns on your skin.
"I love you," he says, his words soft and sincere. 
The sound of his voice is filled with love and emotion, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
You smile and snuggle closer to him, basking in the warmth of his love. It's a feeling like no other, one that fills you with happiness and contentment.
As you lay there together in peaceful silence, memories of how the two of you came to be fill your mind. And it was the best decision either of you had ever made.
"I can't imagine my life without you," Joel whispers, breaking the silence between you two.
Tears prick at your eyes at his words. You feel overwhelmed with emotion - gratefulness for having someone like him in your life and overwhelming love for him.
"I feel the same way," you reply honestly, turning to look into his eyes once again. "I never want to lose you."
Joel leans in and kisses you gently, sealing his promise with actions rather than words. And as your lips move against each other's in a sweet embrace, all doubts fade away.
This is real and true love; a connection that goes beyond physical attraction or fleeting emotions.
It was a connection that defied reason and logic, a force that could not be contained or explained. It was a love that knew no boundaries and bloomed in every corner of their being, the sweetest melody that echoed in their hearts with every beat.
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The Silver Dragon (2)
Youth
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Lady Arianwyn and Prince Aemond grow up side-by-side.
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)
Warnings: none
Author's Note: This chapter is entirely new! The old chapter 2 will be back later as chapter 3. Also, I have not been around babies or toddlers or even kids under 10 since I was that age myself, so if I got any childhood development facts wrong, just pretend that I didn't!
Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
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Only four days after Prince Aemond Targaryen saw his eleventh moon, he took his first steps. It was a matter of necessity. His nursemaid had set him on the nursery floor too far from Aria – all the way on the other side of the rug!
He did not really know who Aria was.
He did not know that her full name was ‘Arianwyn,’ for everyone only called her Aria – except for the large men in bronze suits, who called her ‘Lady,’ or sometimes “Little Lady.” He did not know that she was his cousin, as he did not know what a cousin was. He did not know that she had not always been with him or that she was younger than him, for he had no memories without her there.
All he knew was that Aria was always there, and he was always with her.
But in that moment, she was too far away. He took one look at Aria’s sad and confused face, and he knew he needed to get to her. If he didn’t do it soon, she would start to cry. He hated it when she cried. It made him want to cry.
So, he started crawling toward her. Slowly, he was moving too slowly. She looked more and more like she was going to cry, and Aemond decided there wouldn’t be anything worse in the world.
He pushed his arms against the floor, bracing himself as he raised up onto his legs, as the bigger people did. When he lifted his arms again, he saw Aria staring at him, no longer looking like she was about to cry. While he was glad, he still wanted to go to her.
“Hurry, get the queen!”
Aemond remembered that last word, ‘queen.’ He heard it a lot when his second-favorite person was around. Was she here, too?
He turned his head to look at the part of the wall where people came through but didn’t see anyone. The turn cost him, though. His legs grew wobbly, and he had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he was going to fall. He couldn’t prevent the fall, but maybe he could control it.
His arms flailing, Aemond leaned forward and took three steps closer to Aria before he fell on his face.
Three steps were enough, though. Aria had crawled forward to meet him in the middle of the rug, a wide smile on her face as she squealed with delight. Tears had already sprung to Aemond’s eyes from his fall, but when he looked at Aria, he forgot why he had wanted to cry.
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“Aria!”
“Aymmmmmuh!”
Aemond knew words now – several of them. It infuriated Arianwyn. Especially when his favorite word was her name, and she could not say his back.
She knew his name. Whenever someone said “Aemond,” she knew they were talking about him. She just couldn’t get the word out. The first part, the “ay” sound, she usually got right, but it always fell apart from there.
The worst part was seeing his frustration when she failed, yet again, to say his name. She wanted Aemond to like her – needed him to like her.
He wasn’t like Aegon, who was too big and played in ways she couldn’t, or Helaena, who barely liked to play at all. They weren’t even there most of the time. They were big enough to leave the nursery and go to different places like “garden” or “great hall.”
But Aemond was perfect. He played exactly how she liked, and though he was bigger than her, he never played too roughly. When Aunt – who Aemond called “mama” – took Aegon and Helaena out of the nursery, he stayed with her. He always stayed with her. Even when they were in their cradles, she could still see him from across the room.
“Aymmnuh,” she tried again. And failed again.
Aemond frowned and shook his head. “No.”
Another favorite word of his – Aegon taught it to him. Arianwyn huffed, the sound echoed by the hatchling dragon sunning itself in the window.
Some weeks prior, she had woken in the hour of the wolf to find that the egg that had lain in her cradle had shattered. Shards of black speckled with storm gray and ice blue were strewn across her blanket, and the comforting heat she had grown accustomed to warming herself against was gone. As she began to cry, she noticed a shape looming over her, perched on the edge of her cradle.
The night nurses screamed, shouting at the guards outside the door. Both the man in red and black and the man in bronze looked at her and the dark shape at her feet with wide eyes before running down the corridor so fast their clanging armor sounded like a thunderstorm.
The noise woke Aemond, who looked from Arianwyn to the shape that had leaned down to peer at her. “Dwa- dwagon!”
Arianwyn watched as it jumped down from its perch. She could barely make out the shape in the darkness and against the deep brown of her fur blankets. It did look like the toys they played with that the others called “dragon.” Two membranous wings, a thin, flicking tail, a long neck covered with small spines, and eyes like living ice.
It moved cautiously as it approached her until she could see the faint lines of gray and white within its blue eyes—a dragon. Her dragon.
As she now frowned at Aemond, her dragon was sprawled on the stone of the windowsill, wings spread lazily as it echoed her frustration without even opening its eyes.
“Dragon!” Aemond exclaimed.
“Muhmuhnd!” She was so close, she knew it. She had all the pieces. She just needed to put them together. “Ay!”
Aemond stared at her, a hint of a smile on his face from knowing she was about to try again.
“Ay!” Her face was scrunched in determination as she shouted. The nurses paused their work and looked at her as well.
“Ay-muh!”
Aemond started clapping. One of the nurses whispered to another before slipping out the door.
“Ay-muhn!”
In the window, Arianwyn’s dragon sat up, small clouds of smoke puffing from his nostrils as it began to climb down from the window.
“Ay-muhn-duh! Aemond!”
One of the nurses pressed a hand to her chest and said a word Arianwyn didn’t know. The others started rushing around. But Arianwyn didn’t care. She was looking at Aemond, who clapped and smiled wider than she had ever seen.
“Aemond!” She shouted again, delighting in his responding laugh.
He pointed at her. “Aria!”
“Aemond!”
“Aria!”
“Aemond!”
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There was a new baby in the nursery—two, actually, but Daeron had already been there for four moons, so his novelty had worn off.
Aemond and Arianwyn sat together on one end of the room, watching as he was held by his mother, Rhaenyra, who was also Aemond’s sister. That made him Aemond’s nephew, the nurses had explained.
They had also explained what he was to Aria, but he didn’t quite understand it, as it was somehow much more complicated. Aegon said he understood, and Helaena had nodded, which meant she probably understood, too. She didn’t talk much, and when she did, it never made much sense.
Aegon also explained that the new babe, whose name was “Jacaerys,” but everyone just called “Jace,” was something called a bastard. It meant that Jace’s father wasn’t his father; some other man was. But that didn’t make sense. Rhaenyra was married to Laenor, which meant Laenor was Jace’s father, for the Mother only gave babes to people who were married and very much in love.
When Aemond had asked more about it, Aegon rolled his eyes and said, “You’ll understand when you’re older.”
It was something that was often said to Aemond and Arian, and they did not like it very much. They would have to wait a long time to be older, and they didn’t want to wait.
They also did not like that they were not allowed to play with Jace as they did with Daeron. Rhaenyra said they were “too big.” But when they asked Rhaenyra if she would play with them while Jace was sleeping, she also said no, even though she was definitely big enough. She only ever came to the nursery when Jace was awake and left the moment he fell asleep.
Aemond decided he did not like Rhaenyra.
She had never come to see him, or Aegon, or Helaena, or Aria before Jace was born. Now that she had finally come, she all but ignored them. When they tried to talk to her, she seemed annoyed. Worst of all, he had seen her giving Aria a mean look several times.
His mother did not get along with Rhaenyra very well, so he assumed it was fine not to like her.
However, his father loved Rhaenyra. He came to visit her and her babe often, which would annoy Aemond if it didn’t also mean he got to see his father more.
Since his father was the king, he was very busy and didn’t always have time to see his children in the nursery. But now that the nursery was very full with six children, he made the time, Aemond’s grandsire, who was also the Hand of the King, said.
The king spent most of his time with Jace, but that was probably because Jace was the newest. He still held Daeron, played with Arianwyn and her dragon, complimented Helaena’s insects, admired Aemond's drawings, ruffled Aegon’s hair, and read them all stories from Old Valyria – the fantastical empire where their ancestors were from.
Aemond loved those stories. So did Aria. They tried to memorize them so they could tell them to each other whenever the king wasn’t there. Sometimes, they even acted out some of the stories, with Helaena, Daeron, and several of Aria’s attendants–including her lady’s maid, Brynna, and any number of her twelve guards–as their audience.
Her attendants also told them stories about Aria’s other ancestors, the Bronze Kings. Before there were any Targaryens or Dragons in Westeros, the Bronze Kings ruled over Runestone. One day, Aria would, too.
They didn’t know what Aemond would do. He was a prince, but he wasn’t the heir. There weren’t many stories about second sons. Whenever they asked, they were again told, “You’ll understand when you’re older.” But they never worried for long. There were lots of other exciting things to think about, like when Aemond’s dragon egg would hatch.
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Arianwyn looked around the large room with wide eyes. She had never been to this room before, even though she had now been to many different rooms in the Red Keep. At least Aemond was there, so she wasn’t alone. Still, she wished she had been allowed to bring her dragon – which she had named ‘Emrys’ after a recent visit from her cousin, Ser Gerold.
Brynna was also there, but she sat in a chair by the door sewing something, so she couldn’t hold Arianwyn’s hand. Aemond did so happily. She was pretty sure he was also nervous. His eyes were moving all around the room, too. But his face didn’t look afraid.
Aegon was also there, but Arianwyn didn’t find comfort in his presence. Ever since Aegon left the nursery, he became mean. He was never very nice, but Arianwyn never thought he had been mean. He liked to make jokes that were not very funny, but he laughed anyway.
Most of the jokes were about Aemond and how his egg hadn’t hatched. It didn’t make much sense to Arianwyn, as Aegon’s egg hadn’t hatched either. But he had just returned from a trip to Dragonstone – their family’s other castle – with a hatchling from a different egg. He named it Sunfyre, because it was gold and pink and shiny.
Helaena also went, and though she did not find a dragon from Dragonstone, when she went with their father and Aegon to show Sunfyre the Dragonpit, she met Dreamfyre, who was once ridden by Princess Rhaena, their grandfather’s sister. Helaena and Dreamfyre bonded almost instantly, and the king was very happy.
Aemond and Arianwyn hadn’t been allowed to go along to Dragonstone at all. Arianwyn, because she was too little and already had a dragon, and Aemond, just because he was too little. He had been sad since then, and nothing Arianwyn did seemed to cheer him up for very long.
She squeezed his hand a little, causing him to look at her, his face still empty. “Are you excited?"
At the other end of the table, Aegon scoffed. “There’s nothing to be excited about, trust me.”
Arianwyn rolled her eyes. The first time she did it, it annoyed Aegon, so now she did it whenever possible. “I’m excited. I want to learn everything!”
The corner of Aemond’s mouth quirked up as if he would smile. But it fell back when Aegon started talking again. “You want to learn ‘everything?’ Perhaps you should become a maester, then.”
His tone was mocking, but Arianwyn considered the possibility. The maesters had the biggest library at the Citadel in Oldtown. Perhaps she should be a master; then, she could read all the stories she wanted. But that would require her to be in Oldtown, which was very far away from Runestone.
“Can I be a maester and Lady of Runestone?” she asked.
It went completely silent. Then, Brynna sighed sadly in the corner, and Aegon started laughing.
Arianwyn’s stomach sank. Had she said something wrong? She looked around, hoping someone else would tell her why Aegon was laughing. But Brynna just looked tired, and her guard for the day, Ser Warren, looked like he was hurting, or maybe had smelled something bad. Either way, his face was all scrunched up.
“Shut up!” Aemond shouted, startling her enough that she clapped her hands over her ears. He glared at his brother, his face reddened and angry. “Don’t laugh at her!”
Aegon kept laughing. Aemond kept shouting. Ser Christor looked like he was about to panic. Brynna abandoned her sewing and ran to calm everyone down, but it didn’t work. Tears started to sting behind Arianwyn’s eyes, so she shut them tight, ducked her chin, and shook her head back and forth. That always made the nightmares go away. Maybe it would make this go away, too.
Suddenly, Aegon’s laughing and Aemond’s shouting stopped. She lifted her hands away from her ears and opened her eyes just enough to see Maester Orwyle entering the room.
“Prince Aegon, perhaps it would be wise to keep your lessons separate from Prince Aemond and Lady Arianwyn’s.” His voice was just as gentle as when he came to the nursery when one of them was sick, but Aegon still scowled at him. “Unless you would prefer to repeat the fundamentals of the curriculum?”
Aegon pushed his chair away from the table so fast it fell over and gave a smile that made Arianwyn nervous. “I don’t give a fuck.”
Ser Christor’s eyes went wide. Brynna gasped and put a hand on her chest. Aegon didn’t acknowledge them before stomping out of the room.
After the door slammed shut, Orwyle sighed. He smiled at Aemond and Arianwyn, but it seemed fake. “I am very excited you two are beginning your lessons; you have always been curious.”
He sat at the table across from them and opened a large, messy book. “Before we begin, do you have any questions about how lessons work?”
Aemond said nothing, pouting, as he often did around Aegon, with his arms crossed.
Arianwyn raised her hand above her head. “Grand Maester, what is a ‘fuck?’”
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“Just grab it!”
“It’s too high!”
Arianwyn huffed, crossing her arms as she looked up at Aemond, standing atop a chair trying to reach a large leather-bound book. “Do you want me to try?”
“No!” Aemond’s face reddened. “I can do it. Besides, you’re shorter than me – how could you reach it if I can’t?”
She thought for a moment. If Emrys lived in the Keep, she could have him pry the book out, but he was in the Dragonpit now. Even after three moons, she still woke, expecting to find him tucked against her chest, fast asleep.
But he’d gotten too big to stay in the castle, and Arianwyn had to take him to the Dragonpit. The king and Aemond went with her and helped her with her High Valyrian while she explained to Emrys that he had to stay there now. It didn’t stop him from flying back to the castle for the first fortnight, but he eventually learned to stay in his den.
“I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “Maybe I’ll have an idea if I get on the chair.”
Aemond shook his head, his brow set. “No, you could fall.” Before she could get her next argument out, he continued, “I can do it. Watch.”  
He braced one hand on the edge of the shelf while the other just skimmed the spine of the book they were trying to reach, then jumped. Arianwyn called his name, certain he would fall and hurt himself or even destroy the book.
But then, Aemond was again standing steady on the chair, the book in his hands and a happy grin.
“You did it!” The very moment he was off the chair, Arianwyn hugged him tightly. He could not hug her back with the heavy book in his hands, so he just dropped his head on her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go read!”
She dragged him back to the table in the small alcove, where they had already set out pen and paper. Once Aemond had set the book down and opened it to the first page, she picked up the pen and got ready to write.
“Before the Andu-Andals came to Westeros, and long before Aegon Targaryen con… conchu… um…”
Arianwyn pointed to the word he struggled with. “Conquered. Remember how he’s called ‘Aegon the Conqueror?’”
Aemond’s cheeks flushed. “Yeah, I know. Con-kerd. I was just…making sure I was saying it right.”
She didn’t quite believe him, but she didn’t want to correct him either, so she gave him a smile and nodded for him to continue.
“…before Aegon Targaryen conquered the Seven Kingdoms with his dragons, the lands were inhuh- inhah… inhabee...”
Arianwyn again pointed at the book. “‘In-hah-bih-ted.’ I’ve heard it before but can’t remember what it means. Do you?”
“I…” He slumped, looking pointedly away from her. “No, I don’t.”
They both looked at the book for a moment before Arianwyn handed the pen and paper to Aemond. “Write it down,” she instructed. “In our lessons with Orwyle tomorrow, we can ask him.”
Aemond looked from the book to the paper, then slid the book to her. It made more sense this way, Arianwyn thought. She was better at pronouncing big words, and he was better at writing things down so they would be ‘legible,’ a word Orwyle said but had never really explained.
“In-hah-bih-ted,” Aemond said as he wrote the word down. He whispered the pronunciation a few more times before looking back at Arianwyn. “I’m ready for more.”
She smiled broadly before looking at the page again. “The lands were inhabited by the First Men, who had built mighty kingdoms that…”
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When he was younger, Aemond used to look at the Dragonpit from the seat at the nursery window. For hours, he would dream about one day walking through its mighty doors, mounting his own dragon, and finally claiming his birthright as a Targaryen prince.
Now, he had half a mind to tear down those doors himself.
The task would be far easier with the assistance of a dragon, however, which at the age of eight, Aemond still did not have.
Aegon and Helaena did. His bastard nephews did, somehow. Arianwyn did. But Aemond did not.
Still, he was forced to attend lessons with the Dragonkeepers, watching the others and only imagining doing the same with his own dragon. It wasn’t so bad when Aria was with him. Aegon made jokes, but stopped when she snapped back at him. After that, he would target their nephews. Aemond sometimes even laughed with him.
But then, during one lesson, Dreamfyre snapped at the younger dragons as they pranced around her. She did not cause any physical harm, but Vermax refused to leave his den for days, and Sunfyre would splay out on all fours the moment he saw the mighty she-dragon and stay that way until she left.
After that, the Dragonkeepers decided it prudent to separate Dreamfyre from the younger dragons. Not entirely, for she needed to learn to tolerate them before they could all fly together. She would continue to train with only one – Emrys.
It made sense. Emrys annoyed Dreamfyre the least. And when Aegon made Aria mad, the black dragon would often snap at Sunfyre.
So, Aemond was left to face the torment of being a Targaryen without a dragon alone.
Without Aria there to stop him, Aegon redoubled his teasing. Worse still, the bastards figured out that if they followed Aegon’s lead and made their own jokes at Aemond’s expense, he would not make jokes about them.
The Dragonpit, once a source of hope and inspiration, was now Aemond’s hell.
It started with small, simple japes or whispered comments about his lack of a dragon. But over time, it worsened.
The remarks became crueler and, sometimes, included a crudeness that rankled Aemond. “It’s still good practice for you,” Aegon said. “Even without a dragon, you’ll still need to know how to ride whatever beast mother sends you off to marry.”
The jokes evolved past mere verbal mockery. Once, Aegon and his bastard lackeys had an old saddle that one of their ancestors had used brought in. For Aemond to practice his riding stance, they said. But when he took the seat, he found himself sitting atop a pile of dragon dung they had placed in the saddle and concealed with a sheet of burlap.
He never should have trusted them. He knew it.
But he wanted to.
He wanted to practice his riding stance, to finally sit in a dragon’s saddle, even if it was on the ground rather than an actual dragon. He wanted to feel reins in his hand and imagine the wind flowing past him. And a part of him even wanted to be friends with his brother and nephews.
That small, weak part of him was soon thoroughly snuffed out.
Just after his ninth nameday, Aemond was approached by Aegon and their nephews. He’d long since vowed not to trust them, but his brother’s words shot through his defenses like Valyrian steel through armor.
“Let’s go get you a dragon, brother.”
“What?” Aemond’s heart stopped in his chest. Had one of the she-dragons laid a new clutch of eggs, or had one of the eggs in the warming chamber hatched? Perhaps a new wild dragon had been spotted?
“Look, you’ve just celebrated your nameday,” there was something genuine in Aegon’s voice, unbelievable as it was. He set a hand on Aemond’s shoulder, but it didn’t reassure him as much as it unsettled him. “You’re nearly a man. And you’ve been training with the Dragonkeepers for so long that you’re more than ready to try and claim a dragon. Unless you’re still waiting on that egg?”
That egg, once a deep blue swirling with purple, green, and silver wisps, had turned to stone years ago. It still waited by the hearth in his chambers, just in case of a miracle. He shook his head.
Aegon smiled and turned toward the dragon dens. “Come on then, let’s go.”
“Do the Dragonkeepers know?”
Lucerys ran up behind them, a half-toothless smile splitting his face. “No! We –”
“We didn’t want to tell them because… well,” Jacaerys stuttered momentarily, and Aemond’s faith wavered.
“They wouldn’t allow it if they knew.” Aegon didn’t look back as he led them down the sloping entrance to the dragon dens. “I can’t understand why. Surely, they know you’re more than ready.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Just imagine the look on their faces when they see you come into the arena on the back of a full-grown dragon!”
And Aria, Aemond thought. She would be thrilled for him. He could picture it perfectly, the gleam of utter glee in her eyes as she smiled as wide as she could. And she would be able to ride Emrys soon, she’d told him. If he claimed an adult dragon, they could fly together.
The fantasy ended the moment the last of the daylight disappeared. That rush of anticipation faded, leaving him with only reluctance and fear.
Not that he had time to act on it before Aegon seized his arm and pointed into the massive passages lit only by distant torches. “Terrax makes his den down there.”
Aemond nearly choked as he named the formidable dragon that had hatched during Aegon the Conqueror’s reign and remained unclaimed since. “You want me to claim Terrax?”
“Yes!” Aegon spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t you think you deserve one of the largest and most powerful dragons in the world?”
“I… I suppose so.”
Aegon patted Aemond’s shoulder, then pushed him forward a few steps, sand flying up around him. “Then get on!”
He made no move to follow. Neither did their bastard nephews.
“Are you not coming with me?” The thought of approaching Terrax was daunting enough. To do it alone was nearly unthinkable.
Lucerys opened his mouth, but Jacaerys thumped him before he could say anything. Aegon just held Aemond’s gaze. “We are but must follow behind, so we don’t spook Terrax. Too many unfamiliar scents will put him on edge.”
It made sense, according to everything he’d learned about dragons. Unbonded dragons were especially sensitive to unfamiliar people, it was why novice Dragonkeepers were always accompanied by an elder.
Still, this wasn’t something Aemond wanted to do alone. “But you will be behind me?”
“We will,” Aegon assured, a hint of annoyance entering his voice.
“You swear it?”
“I swear.”
Aemond searched his brother’s face for any hint of deception but found none. Either he had become a more proficient liar, or he was telling the truth. This was his brother, his future king. If he couldn’t trust Aegon, who could he trust?
He could trust Aria. Always. If only she were here, he would be far more confident. And braver – he wouldn’t let her see him afraid. If she were here, he’d march right into Terrax’s den and lay his claim. He remembered the image he’d pictured of her proud face when he told her he’d claimed a dragon and decided he would do anything to make it real.
One step forward. Two. Three.
It was not long before it was so dark that when he looked behind him, he could not see Aegon, Jacaerys, or Lucerys. But knowing they were there was still a comfort, even if he had to walk the shadowed distances between torches.
The dragon dens, at last, came into view. The first few – one on the left, two on the right – were empty. The next one on the left had a massive nest of straw, wood, and sand occupying nearly every crevice of the room.
A low growl echoed through the corridor. Perhaps it was simply a dragon snoring. Maybe one had already scented him. The only way to know for certain was to continue.
As he approached the next den on the right, the growl came again, louder this time. Aemond said a swift prayer before moving closer, as quietly as he could.
He pressed his back to the wall and crept forward, waiting for the den itself to come into view. Waiting to see what lay inside. He reached the threshold and slowly peeked into the den.
A large green eye met his.
Terrax whipped his massive head toward Aemond, letting out a piercing roar.
“Ly.. lykirī! Dohaerās!” Be calm. Serve.
Terrax did not. A glow began in his throat, and heat threatened to overwhelm Aemond.
He was going to burn him.
Aemond ran, stumbling in the sand. He had to get away, get out, escape.
“Aegon!” It was both plea and warning.
No answer came.
“Aegon!”
The heat was growing, growing, growing. A whooshing noise chased him.
“Aegon! Jacaerys! Lucerys! Help!”
The tunnel was bright as day now. Sweat rapidly formed and fell from his brow.
The fire was upon him.
He had one last prayer.
“Aria!”
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Aria was waiting in the library when Aemond finally escaped the thorough scoldings he’d received from both Elder Dantis, the leader of the Dragonkeepers, and his mother. “Aemond! Come look what Ser Gerold sent from Runestone!”
He should have been thrilled, should have felt excitement rushing in his veins at the prospect of new books directly from Aria’s home. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t even heartened by the fact that she’d waited for him for so long. He felt… nothing.
“Aemond?” As he came closer, she seemed to finally notice his disheveled appearance. The ends of his hair had been burnt away, and soot and sand clung to his clothes. “What happened?”
“I…” He took his seat, keeping his gaze on the blank parchment before him. This was what they always did: sit together while Aria read, and he wrote down new words or questions they had. It was his favorite part of the day.
Why did the prospect now make him want to cry?
He shook his head.
Aria exchanged a glance with her guard – Ser Christor always seemed to be on duty while they were in the library. She moved her chair closer to his. “Lēkia?”
He squeezed his eyes shut. Her voice always soothed him and made him feel happy and safe. But right now, it seemed to echo Terrax's horrible roaring.
A small, gentle hand came to rest on his. The touch… felt good—soft, safe, and cool.
But then she spoke again. “Please, are you alright?”
Aemond managed a slight nod. Terrax’s fire went above him, so he managed to escape without any burns, but his clothes and pride were ravaged. As was his faith in his brothers and nephews.
“Why won’t you say anything?” Damn it all, she was about to cry. He could not stand to hear anyone speaking right now, not even her. Yet he could not stand making her cry, either.
He picked up the quill she’d laid out for him, dipping it carelessly into the inkwell. He wrote, “I am well, but I really badly don’t feel like talking.”
“Oh…” Aria frowned but nodded. Aemond knew not talking would be hard for her; she always had so much to say. But she was willing to be silent for him. He could have kissed her for it.
She moved the book between them and began to open it before shutting it again, reaching over it, and grabbing Aemond’s parchment. There was little ink left in the quill, but she just managed to squeeze out, “Tap my hand when you want to turn the page.”       
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It felt like everyone in the whole world was looking at Arianwyn. It was certainly everyone in her world.
The king and queen. Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys. Ser Criston Cole. All her guards from Runestone. The Grand Maester and Orwyle. The other lords of the Small Council. Countless other lords and ladies that Arianwyn had met but did not remember well.
Ser Gerold had arrived only the day before with several lords and ladies from Runestone and their bannermen.
Even Rhaenyra was there, though she didn’t look very happy about it. Ser Laenor was next to her, Jace and Luke in front of them, their dark eyes wide as they looked at Arianwyn and Emrys. She tried not to look at their eyes for too long – it felt rude, considering those eyes were quite the source of gossip.
“Emrys umbā, āeksio.” Elder Dantis motioned toward her now-saddled dragon. “Īlos pradagon?” Emrys is ready, lady. Shall we begin?
“Issa,” Arianwyn replied. She wasn’t quite sure whether she was really ready or not, but she couldn’t disappoint all those who had come to watch her first flight. So, she approached Emrys, stroking the smooth black scales of his snout.
He had grown impressively, now nearly twice as large as the King’s wheelhouse. According to the Dragonkeepers, it was unusual for a dragon to grow this fast away from Dragonstone or Valyria. There was much speculation about why, but Arianwyn didn’t care. She would love him no matter his size, though it did help that he was already large enough to ride.
He grumbled slightly, his icy eyes glancing at the crowd and the scales and spikes along his spine flaring. In many respects, she thought, he was quite like a spoiled cat.
“Hae urnēbosy pōnte daor gaomās,” Arianwyn whispered. Try to act like they aren’t watching us.
His grumbling turned to whining.
“Sepār zūgan,” she admitted, “yn kesir kosti. Īlon kosti gīmin. Ao kostā gīmin.” I’m nervous too, but we can do it. I know we can. I know you can.”
Emrys huffed a warm breath onto Arianwyn, a gesture of affection and conceding, before nudging her toward his side and the ropes that led to the saddle.
He did not like the saddle. That much was evident from the claw marks nearly covering the worn leather and how he would roll over on his back whenever the Dragonkeepers tried to put it on. It always took Arianwyn herself to talk him into letting them. But he was getting better about it. Slightly.
The saddle was not hers. It had been passed down in the family for generations, meant for young dragons who were still growing rapidly. Still, as Arianwyn settled into the ancient, worn leather, she could not help but think it fit her perfectly.
She dared one more glance at the crowd. The king was beaming. The queen looked as though she were about to faint. Ser Gerold and her Runestone guards looked to be somewhere between the two. Rhaenyra wasn’t even looking, though her husband and sons were.
Arianwyn looked last at her cousins. Helaena wore the same dreamy expression she always did, though her lips seemed to be moving slightly. Aegon was harder to read. She had expected him to look at her disdainfully or mockingly, but he didn’t. He looked happy, though it didn’t make much sense.
And Aemond. Her heart ached to look at him. She knew he was happy for her – more than happy, even. But being here today must also cause him such pain, driving home the fact that he still had not claimed a dragon. Guilt stung in her chest. She should have told him she wouldn’t mind if he stayed behind at the Keep.
But then, he smiled. There was still longing in his eyes for his own mount, but he smiled so brightly that Arianwyn soon smiled back, suddenly anxious to show him what she could do. She straightened her posture and grasped the reins.
“Emrys! Sōvēs!”
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By the time Emrys again landed in the courtyard of the Dragonpit, he had entirely shed his dislike of his saddle. As he flew over King’s Landing, he had trilled and hooted his delight for all to hear. Arianwyn had as well, shouting and hollering with every move – rising on an air current, diving so low Emrys’ wings skimmed the surface of Blackwater Bay, and pitching around the towers and spires of the Red Keep.
Neither had ever felt so alive. But it was time to return to the ground.
Arianwyn was swarmed the moment she dismounted.
The king reached her first, clapped her on the back, and told her how proud her father would be if he were there. It was meant to be a comfort, but she flinched at the words. If he were there. But he was never there. She was nearly ten years old, but she had never met Prince Daemon, or even received a message from him.
Fortunately, the queen noticed her discomfort and subtly pushed past her husband to embrace her. “You were brilliant, Aria,” Alicent said. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Not bad at all.” Aegon, to her surprise, had also approached. He smiled at her. “Might even call it good.”
Arianwyn rolled her eyes. “How generous of you.”
He smirked. “I’m known to be sincere on rare occasions.”
She didn’t have a chance to snap back at him before she was lifted into the air and spun around. Ser Gerold held her close to his chest, and she swore she heard tears in his voice. “A dragon riding Royce! Who could have ever guessed? Oh, if only your mother could see this.”
“Would she be happy?” Arianwyn was suddenly gripped with fear that her mother would disapprove of her riding Emrys. Perhaps it was too far from Royce tradition for the late Lady of Runestone to tolerate.
Gerold lifted her so she could look directly into his dark gray eyes. “If your mother saw you now…” He really was crying now, but he smiled. “She would be so happy, Aria. She would be so thrilled that she might even ask to ride Emrys herself.”
Never able to resist his smile, Arianwyn smiled back. “Emrys isn’t quite large enough for two right now. But I would take her the moment he was.”
He finally set her down, his eyes flicking away for a moment. “I’m so proud of you, Aria. But I think there’s someone who also wants to say so.” With his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around.
Aemond was standing precisely where he was when Emrys had taken flight. He held his hands behind his back and looked away when Arianwyn met his gaze.
She had to push through more admirers – her guards, the Small Council, and other adults she couldn’t recall the names of. But they didn’t matter right now.
Yet when she stopped in front of Aemond, she didn’t know what to say. Talking about her flight might make him feel bad, but she so badly wanted to share her joy with him. Impulsively, she threw her arms over his shoulders and hugged him.
After a moment, he hugged her back.
“You’re amazing, Aria,” he whispered.
She sighed and rested her head on his shoulders. “You are, too.”
Aemond laughed almost disdainfully. Arianwyn held him tighter. “It’s true! One day, you will have a dragon, and I know you will be the fiercest rider our family has ever seen. Then, we can fly together, you and me.”
He let out a shaking breath but held her tighter, too. She could hear the faint smile in his voice. “You and me, Aria. Forever.”
“Forever.”
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Taglist: @heartb8k2 @queenofshinigamis @leptitlu @xxxkat3xxx @malfoycassimalfoy @lokiofasgard12
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bigtreefest · 1 day
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Chapter 8: What Took You So Long
From: Bigger Houses Series
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Pairing: Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader
Summary: Finding forever took forever. Now it’s time to slow it down.
Word Count: 3,414
Content/Warnings: moderate alcohol consumption, mildly negative self-talk, looking back on the past, poking fun, mild swears, entirely too much affection, learning to cook, mild allusions to adult fun times, pet name usage
A/N: hehehe, the thought of grocery shopping with a SO has been eating me up recently. Also, a good friend of mine thinks I’m becoming disillusioned to what real-life romance is like. Oops
Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo welcome and appreciated!!
Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Below is the song which inspired this chapter. Talk about sappy.
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You and Ari were grocery shopping when it hit him. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. A part of him had known the whole time, but this moment had really made it click.
You weren’t even looking at him, your eyes instead favoring the rows of produce, mentioning facts about how to determine when each fruit or vegetable was ripe. It was beautifully mundane, it was you sharing a little more of yourself and your wide breadth of knowledge he could never get over, and it was everything he ever wanted to love for the rest of time.
He was in awe of the way you moved through the aisles, your natural understanding of everything a person could possibly need, and how well you knew his preferences.
You pulled out spices, describing the dishes that utilize them. You explained the importance of salt, but not too much, and why a person could possibly need more than one kind. You walked him through different ways to make a balanced meal. The entire time, he was enthralled. He was completely taken by you and hung on to every word like it would save his life. Well, it sort of already did.
The two of you went to the checkout counter with your full cart, Ari pushing it as you began to load the items onto the belt.
Ari helped the cashier bag them up, and before he could even think to pull out his wallet, you’d already swiped your card. Ari cocked his head to the side, his long hair that peeked out from under his hat swaying. The ball cap looked so funny in juxtaposition to his ranger uniform, which he still wore as a product of you picking him up from work. His eyebrow raised as if to say ‘seriously?’
You smiled and shrugged as you took the receipt, skipping off in front of him as he pushed the cart out of the store and to your SUV. You slowed to allow him to catch up.
“You know I could’ve gotten that. These groceries are for my house, after all.” You laughed before reaching the car and pressing the button for the lift gate.
As the trunk began to open, Ari parked the cart and you felt arms wrap around you from behind. His beard bristled against your neck as he nestled in with his chin on your shoulder and kissed your cheek.
A soft smile remained on your face. “Consider it a gift. Welcome to independence, and official adulthood.”
He laughed into your hair. “Well it hardly counts as independence if you just took care of me. Swooping down to save the day again like the Angel you are. If you’re not careful, people are gonna think you’re my sugar mommy. Then I’m definitely not independent or much of a full-on grown-up.”
You rolled your eyes before turning around to start placing the bags into the trunk, keeping your head down doing your best to hide your blush at what Ari just said. You loved that he thought the world of you, and loving Ari like that was easy. Now, in terms of the sugar mommy comment, you both knew your job paid better, but neither had an issue with it, so any time it came up, he loved to joke like that, despite him having some savings from living so modestly.
Once you finished loading, you looked up into his sparkling eyes, creased with the smile he always wore when around you, finally replying. “I’ll give you sugar, you just have to wait until we’re home for it.”
You winked before giving him a chaste kiss, far too short for his liking, closing the trunk, and hopping up into the driver’s side, leaving Ari to return the cart.
When Ari returned to you, you started the car towards his cabin. You drove with one hand on the wheel, the other holding his over the center console. His thumb absent-mindedly stroked the back of your hand as Ari looked out the window, thinking about how he was going to pick out a ring.
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Ari was finally losing his bachelor fridge. Gone were the days of it only housing lunch meat and beer.
You had just helped him finish putting away the new haul as he had gotten changed out of his uniform. Everything had a place and he had never seen the cabinets so full. You had a methodical system he really appreciated.
Ari’s hands were on your hips as he was about to set you on the counter before you stopped him, placing a hand on his chest.
“Wait, stop.”
He looked at you confused.
You removed your hand from his chest and held a pointer finger up. “One more thing. Gimme a sec. I left it in the car.”
You dipped under his arm that had you barricaded against the counter, running towards the front door and slipping on the first pair of shoes you saw, Ari’s massive boots clopping as you ran on the driveway. You opened up the back door of your car, looking under the seat to pull out a small package wrapped in brown paper and a twine bow.
You ran back in to where Ari was still standing there with his mouth agape, one hand on the countertop, the other on his hip. You cautiously crept towards him with the package tucked behind your back.
His face morphed into a suspicious smile. “Whatcha got there, Duchess?”
You giggled, toes meeting his as you looked up at his towering form. He made a move to reach behind your back before you quickly slid out of his reach.
“Ah ah ah, surprises are meant to be given, not stolen, ya little klepto. Now close your eyes.”
Ari’s head fell forward with a sigh before looking back at you through his eyelashes. “Fine.”
His eyelids fluttered shut as he held out his hands and you pulled the small package out from behind your back, carefully placing it.
“Okay, open.” Ari looked down at the brown paper intently.
“What is it? What’s the occasion? You already bought my groceries.”
He set it on the counter before propping you up onto the island like he had tried to before. You shrugged, your hands gripping the edge as your feet swung.
“Open it. I know we didn’t really discuss gifts or anything, but happy one year of me almost hitting you with my car.”
He laughed, picking it up again and untying the twine. “The first or second time?”
He knew which time. It was the first one. He marked the day as soon as he’d gotten home from your first coffee shop date, counting back the days to that fateful run-in on the mountain pass.
You kicked his thigh lightly before silently urging him to tear open the paper. It revealed a small cookbook.
“‘Cooking for Two?’ What-“ His eyes grew wide. “You’re not…” he looked around before ducking his head slightly and whispering. “Pregnant…are you?”
You shoved him back. “What!? No. No!”
You shook your head frantically. “Absolutely not. That is not what this means.”
The two of you were more than careful enough to make sure that didn’t happen—at least not right now. You’d made sure to find the right birth control and Ari took proper precautions on his end, as well.
You laughed uncomfortably before going silent. Ari let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, okay, that’s good- I mean, not that I wouldn’t….like, well, kids….um.”
You calmed him, placing both hands on his shoulders. “I-I get it trust me. I want kids, too someday, just not right now. It’s okay, we’re on the same page about that.”
He nodded and placed his head on your shoulder as your hand moved to stroke his hair.
“Thank you for understanding me. Where have you been all my life?” Seriously, he couldn’t believe that heaven ever let him find you.
You placed a kiss on his temple. “I was getting prepared to meet you.”
You leaned back to catch his gaze. “Now let me explain. This book, which is most definitely not a pregnancy cookbook, is because I’m hoping to start spending more dinners here now that you’re all stocked. As much as I love cooking for you, I think it’s important we both know how.”
You gestured your head to the single book that sat on the shelf in the corner of his kitchen. “Plus, I think you’ve earned an addition to the collection. You’ve graduated on to the next best thing. The pizza incident is a thing of the past.”
He shook his head reminiscing on the memory. “It’s not my fault you distracted me.”
You looked at him with feigned shock and disbelief as he leaned in for a kiss. “But as my present to you, let me cook you dinner?”
You nodded, leaning in to meet him. The kiss was soft and slow before it became needier. Ari tried pulling you close, his one arm falling from your waist down to your hip, the other still holding the book, before you placed your hand on his chest again, pushing him away.
“Nice try, Bear, but I’m starving. As much as I wanted to see where that kiss went, I want food more. Chop chop.”
You grabbed the other end of the book still sitting in your lap and gently raised it, pushing it towards his face and turning him towards the stove.
“You pick out a recipe while I get some drinks started for us. Sound good?”
As much as Ari would’ve grumbled at anyone else, he was happy to oblige you, flipping through the pages as you pulled out two glasses and began pouring.
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Ari was so happy with the way you took over his space. Everywhere he looked, he saw you. Every room in the small shack had been filled with laughs and memories that filled his chest with warmth. Gone were the days that pained him to even look at the walls as the darkness seeped in. All that existed was light. It shined off of you and stayed reflecting off every surface, leaving an imprint of contentment in Ari’s brain, even when you weren’t here.
Ari leaned back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed as he simply watched you. Over the period of him preparing the meal that was nearly finished, you had changed into one of his old wildlife conservation hoodies he’d gotten from working a fundraiser.
You danced without a care in the world, swaying with your arms above your head to the music you had blasting through the small cabin. Your one hand held your second cocktail of the evening.
As much as Ari hated to, he had to pull his gaze off you for a second to check the roast on the stove. When he opened the pot lid, you caught a whiff of the truly delectable scent. The sweetness of carrots swirled with the seasoning blend over the braised beef.
You set your glass down on the island, dancing over to him and stepping up behind the wall of a man. No spanks in the kitchen was a long-standing rule, which was a shame for the sweatpants he was wearing, but nothing was ever contested about hugs.
Your arms snaked around his waist and up under the front of his shirt as you rested your cheek between his shoulder blades. You could feel the ripple of each muscle as his arms expertly maneuvered and he breathed steadily, it was like marble that moved. Yet, there was a softness to it, maybe from the sensation of the chest hair under your fingertips, maybe from the smell of the fabric softener he used. There was always a softness to Ari, especially around you.
He hummed, reaching to pull low-rimmed bowls down from the cabinet, serving up the meal and setting it aside before running his hands up his shirt to meet yours. He turned around and pulled your hands between the two of you, placing a kiss on each hand, right on the ring finger. Starting forever was at the forefront of his mind, unbeknownst to you.
“Ready to eat?”
You nodded with wide eyes, grabbing silverware and dancing over to the dining room as Ari followed with your meals, dancing along.
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As the sun fell, you and Ari were still sitting at his dining room table. His small work-provided cabin didn’t offer much room to move around, but there was just enough for the two of you and you didn’t mind being cozy.
You were putting together a puzzle under the warm lighting, newly donned fuzzy socks on your feet that he’d tucked away as a surprise for this very special day, finally giving them to you after dinner.
The two of you moved quickly, but not hastily, as you passed Ari the outline pieces and you worked to piece together the internal scenery. Your movements were paired with witty banter and discussions about past lives. No matter how much time you spent together, you could never learn enough. You wanted to know everything.
“So that was the spring break I spent doing cleanup work for a tornado. It’s not like I had any plans otherwise besides going home, but my mom understood it was what I needed to do.”
Ari nodded along. He enjoyed learning about the road you took that led your hearts to each other. All the things you did with your hours and your minutes. Seriously, what didn’t you do? Even now you were constantly on the move, filling your schedule with valuable, enriching things. You chased your dreams even if they took you far away from your hometown. At least, that was how he saw it. How could you always find the time to be with him? To dedicate to him when you had so many other things on your plate?
He didn’t want to question it too much, though, for fear that you’d catch on and think he didn’t live up to how amazing you were. But Ari thought to himself more, realizing the good he really had done. What took him so long? Where had this version of him been all his life? You had awoken it in him. You had pushed him to become a better version of himself.
He was roused from his thoughts by your question. “So what about you? Ever do anything fun for spring break in college?”
Ari’s eyebrows rose as he thought back to it. He hadn’t finished college and it honestly seemed like a lifetime ago. He blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair.
“Well, I only had two spring breaks. I remember going down to Daytona beach with some buddies of mine, getting drunk on Coronas and them all being drunk on love with whoever they met down there.”
You took a sip of your drink, nodding as you swallowed. “Sounds about normal. I bet you were a charmer back in the day, too. Sometimes I wish we’d met then.”
Ari shook his head vigorously at that, taking the drink from your hands and finishing it down. “Ehhhh…I’m not so sure about that. I do not think you would’ve liked to have met me then. I probably wasn’t deserving to be in your arms.”
Your brows pinched together as you took the drink back, going to Ari’s fridge and getting a fresh round of beer, hunching over to reach the shelf. “I don’t agree that you weren’t deserving. Sure, we lived different lives, but you were still you.”
Ari thanked you as you placed the new bottle in his hand, taking your seat again and shuffling the puzzle pieces.
“I mean, Bear, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who actually cares about being a ranger as much as you do. You go to all those little conferences and retreats and trainings and actually enjoy them. That’s not just a trait that develops overnight. It’s character.”
Ari blushed. Not even the cold beer was enough to counteract the warmth in his cheeks that came around when you said little things like that. When he could see how much of the little things you noticed. When you saw him.
He scoffed and tried to brush it off, though. As much as he loved to hear your praise, he respectfully disagreed with your assessment of his college self. Sure, if it had been up to him then, he would’ve been ecstatic to meet you a lot sooner, but God knew what he was doing making Ari wait all this time.
“Nah, I was a bit of a punk. And I wasn’t ready then to meet someone like you, but I think I’m ready now.” It was true. Right when Ari met you was when his world started spinning, but he wouldn’t have been able to handle it as the immature, reckless, and restless young delinquent he was.
“I definitely wasn’t doing humanitarian work like you. Trust me, Duchess, if you would’ve seen me…let’s just say…I don’t think I would’ve ever gotten the opportunity like now to kiss you every morning with the sunshine. I would’ve blown it pretty early on.”
You shrugged and continued to snap pieces into place with one hand while the other reached for his, pulling it to your lips for a kiss. “Agree to disagree.”
The puzzle was shaping up now, as you worked to slide your solved chunks in towards the middle with Ari. Only a few pieces were left to be placed.
Ari continued to work on the task at hand, but it took a back seat in his mind to the main show that was you. Sure, he loved little activities, but mostly, he just loved you and the time you could spend together. He’d do anything if it meant just stealing another moment.
As you were close to finishing, there were two spots open, but only one puzzle piece left. You stood up, looking on your seat, spinning around to check the floor, and even peeking under the mostly-solved puzzle with no luck.
“Bear, stand up. Do you see the last piece anywhere? Can you please help me find it?”
He stood up and cleared his throat. “Sure thing. It’s gotta be here somewhere. This was a new set. Couldn’t have gone far.”
The two of you looked over every nearby surface, Ari even checking the fridge to see if you’d tracked it into there somehow, and to get himself another drink after looking for the piece at the bottom of his bottle.
Somehow this hunt had turned into a dance, though. Or…more of a hobble?, as Ari had wrapped his arms around your neck, hugging you from behind and resting his head over one shoulder, taking big, goofy, swaying steps with you.
He lived for this. Really. Where had you been all his life? This night was another quotidian moment he wanted to bask in. He felt like it had taken him forever to find the one he wanted to spend forever with, but now that he did, he just wanted time to slow down. He wanted to drag out this night just a little bit longer.
You turned around in his hold, hands rubbing his chest and abs over the old hoodie he wore. Your nails raked up and down, sending tingles to the firm muscles under the plush fabric. Ari held you close, large hands splayed against your lower back. As your hand brushed over the pocket in his sweatshirt, you felt something small and flat with sharp edges.
“Hm, that’s suspicious.” Your head tilted as you looked up at the tree of a man, a sly smile on his face, looking back down at you.
“Oh, Angel, I’m just excited to see you.”
Without breaking eye contact, you reached into the pocket, finding exactly what you’d expected, mouth open in a small gasp of fake shock.
“As much as you wish it were, not everything is about your dick, Levinson.”
You winked and leaned up to kiss his cheek. Ari simply gave a shrug as you shimmied out of his hold and back over to the table, sliding the final puzzle piece into place. This was a mimetic moment for him; a visual representation of what you’d done in his life, and he planned to never let you go.
Next >
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Bonus A/N: Bro, a lil sap who thinks the world of me? That’s all I want. Fr Fr.
If you agree, I’d love to hear about it. Drop me a comment or reblog. Thank you for reading!!
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sflow-er · 3 days
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I heard people are mad because they feel like August should be apologizing to Simon also, and I think that’s like, a no-brainer because of course he will – – he’s changed now. He’s not the same person who did that thing so – – we saw him suffer and now he apologized to Wille whom he knows and then – – I’m sure when [August and Simon] meet, he’s going to talk to [Simon] about it too. Linnéa Roxeheim, director of S3 eps 5& 6, PRP interview 59:00-59:22 (– – used for legibility, the redacted phrase is 'you know')
So...this kind of seems to confirm something I've been thinking since I watched the season: the lack of apology from August to Simon feels less like an intentional, character-defining writing choice and more like a mishap overlooking or even retconning the August-Simon conflict.
Some thoughts under the cut.
That conflict was one of the central building blocks and driving forces back in S1. Simon wouldn't have ended up selling drugs if it wasn't for August looking to buy, Wille wouldn't have found out about August's finances and been able to use them against him, and Alexander would not have been framed to save Simon. And for that matter, August's eagerness to pin the blame on Simon was likely fuelled by the fact that he wasn't just a sosse sleeping with Wille, but also a constant thorn in August's side. Someone who had even physically roughed August up at one point.
Still, I do believe August's decision to post the video mainly concerned Wille. I've written about that too many times to rehash it again; let's just take his dismissive reaction when Sara says Simon is distraught in S1E6 at face value. And that made perfect sense for his character, considering his only moral code at the time was (elite) loyalty.
However. From S2 on, the history between August and Simon has been sidelined, and the focus has been on the conflict between August and Wille.
We didn't see Simon suffer any more daily consequences from the video in S2. He could already sing karaoke in Bjärstad without people giving him dirty looks, and both the rumour mill at Hillerska and the hate comments online had stopped. Not being allowed to sing his song at the Jubilee was a concrete consequence, but even that felt more like an obstacle for Wilmon and an opportunity for Wille to stand up for them. Simon and August barely even interacted over the season - but at least Simon did refer to Sara knowing everything August had done to him in the gun range scene, so that was something.
I had hoped for the August-Simon conflict to be picked up again in S3. Even if the writers wanted to focus on other relationships and tensions, to me, it felt too essential to pass up. It would have been a clear sign of August learning the accountability and empathy that he needed to grow, and it would have also provided some much-needed closure for Simon (and tied the series together as a whole). I guess the writers felt differently.
Even though the focus on Simon getting hate on social media again could have provided an easy tie-in, the vile hate messages focused on his and Wille's relationship, as well as him being a POC. Apart from Linda's comment in the settlement negotiation, I don't think the video was even mentioned once in all the hate comments we saw. There was no indication of the media or the public having dragged it back up either (or asked who filmed and leaked it, but that's another matter entirely). Nor were there any references to Simon having already received some hate after the leak - on the contrary, it seemed like he was completely blindsided by all the vitriol. I do realise that the scale was much bigger this time around, but still.
Circling back to the August-Simon conflict, there's also another aspect that is easily overlooked. Namely, that Simon himself actually seemed pretty content to just put all his dealings with August to rest after the settlement was finalised. The only time the two of them even interacted after that was all about Sara. It could have also been an opportunity to show Simon's own feelings, but that didn't materialise.
Don't get me wrong, I'm sure Simon could still use that apology, but I never got the impression that he needed it the way we fans needed to see it. Based on S3, you might even think their only source of conflict was Simon coincidentally being on the video, and when that was settled, Simon was okay just moving on with his life.
Which brings me back to the ending.
I always figured that August was portrayed as genuinely remorseful towards the end. Yes, I would have liked to see more of his growth and development (even just showing his reaction to the sale of Årnäs instead of having Simon say that Wille said it was a fitting punishment would've worked wonders)... But the authorial intent seemed to be that he had already taken enough steps. His and Wille's reconciliation was as sincere as anything could get, with Wille not forgiving him as such but agreeing to move on, start healing, and even wish each other well. Wille was sincere when he congratulated August upon graduation and tapped him as the next king, thinking he was well suited for the job (it's the narrative that frames it as a sort of punishment, not Wille).
Crucially, Simon doesn't seem bothered by this. If both Wille and August had truly just ignored the harm caused to Simon and reconciled amongst themselves, with Wille essentially giving August the position that everyone but August still thought was all August ever wanted...while Simon was still hurting and needing the closure of an apology...well. That would actually make Wille look like kind of a terrible partner even right at the end, which clearly wasn't the intention.
We can't be sure if Wille told Simon about the reconciliation when they talked at the lake, but Simon will still know that Wille stepping down means August stepping up, and he is happy about it. Wilmon are off to start a new chapter in their lives, and we don't get the feeling that the lack of an apology to Simon is left as an unresolved issue between them (or between them and August).
So...yeah. I guess I'm just trying to point out that this seems to be another example of a previously important plot line being dropped from S3, and to a lesser degree, also another example of execution vs. authorial intent.
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dismas-n-dismay · 1 day
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Hi! It's me again (I'm transferring to a bachelor's in biology this fall and I love the science that goes into the series so I love that you're exploring this)
Do either of them have hoarding instincts or dietary preferences or are they pretty much human in that regard?
They'd possibly be born with baby teeth, at least in Haze/Hazel's case, would that change anything? (Hazel would probably fit better because Falin is half French on her father's side from what I remember from the Adventurer's Bible and it feels even that they'd both get to name a kid but that's just my opinion)
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Haru with his mouth full: Checkit!! Blegh!! Haize: Gross. Good job, Haru, you're a natural hunter!
Welcome back to part 10,000 of me talking about my silly ocs. Hi. hello. Thank you sooo much for coming back with more biology questions for these two hehehe >:]c
Diet Preferences?
These two are quite the oddballs. Haru is an insectivore by simple dragon nature while Haize is a carnivore by hers, though their elven and tallman sides balance them out to be closer to omnivores! Light dragons commonly eat bugs as they're the easiest prey to attract when ur big and flashy though this keeps them very lithe and they typically have more slender builds, though the proteins do help a lot. Conversely, red dragons being mostly carnivores results in their larger build and their obvious frequency to be the most dominant and persevering dragon species- y'know. Because they murk the other ones due to their weaker diets and builds.
Haru started to eat bugs right around the time it was warm enough for him to go outdoors without getting sick, I imagine he would've eaten a butterfly or a dragonfly much to Marcille's horror. Like that vine of the pug eating the butterfly with his owner screaming no! Backtracking a bit though to give some cool facts about baby light dragons because I decide the lore. I'm making them weird half mammal half bird-lizards because I think the variety is cool but this also means that - up until baby light dragons can open their eyes and properly attempt to hunt - they drink milk from their parents! (Whether or not this is crop milk like birds produce is entirely up to the reader's imagination, I will not judge but I will choose either one if asked)
So up until he started going outside, Haru was perfectly content just drinking milk like any other baby- Haize was not. Unlike Haru she was born with baby fangs!! Just little milk teeth to help her get a headstart for the world and such, but she grew hungrier for something more diverse than milk very quickly. Red dragons, unlike light dragons, don't do the whole milk thing so Haize was only partially satiated due to being part elf and tallman but the minute she was allowed to eat soft meats she basically refused to go back. So just imagine like a 1 year old eating various lunch meats for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Honestly it was probably for the best, Haize's fangs bit into Marcille a lot and they were worried she might grow a taste for blood if she kept accidentally nicking her mom while trying to eat. She probably would have and it would've been a really bad habit to get rid of because she hadn't developed that big girl brain to be like "Hey maybe drinking blood isn't super cool."
All in all, the Touden-Donato sibs have slightly preferenced diets! Though Haize prefers meats, nectar, and citrus fruits while Haru prefers bugs, ground vegetables, citrus fruits, and any/all milk based desserts (he just really likes them). God if these kids ever got their hands on sorbet it would be a disaster, Falin and Marcille would literally spend a week trying to explain why they cant have ice cream for every meal and have to deal with whining dragonets the whole time.
2. Hoarding Instincts
They do have hoarding instincts! Though this is one of those things that differs from dragon to dragon on how they react with it. Light dragons tend to go for the flashiest treasures to make themselves more appealing and alluring, naturally they like the attention they draw in just from an instinctual standard. They frequently discard rusted, unpolished, or just not as eyecatching treasure all the time. They really just arent particular about the whole thing unless they see you have an interest in something they were previously disinterested in- then they're smug assholes who see their treasure as still having some renewed value. So essentially Envy = Worthy to them, but they arent extremely vain creatures despite their hoarding preference and are actually particularly generous within reason. It's very common for light dragons to gift their young, mates, or siblings with treasures from their own hoards or that they've taken for themselves to gift. Typically though the gifting of treasure is to help younger dragons start their own hoard and have an idea of what to go for when out and about for themselves.
That being said, Haru is a greedly little fucker who wants every single new treasure possible, fuck you. He's very grateful for being part elf and tallman because he's aware that he can make his beautiful treasures last long if he polishes, dusts, and cleans them! So his hoard isn't too huge if only because he's good at maintaining things. Still, if he sees something he tends to want it and is often reprimanded for trying to steal shiny gems, jewels, or artifacts just because he likes them- as Haru often gets tired with his new finds extremely quickly if they begin to bore him or don't compare to his other treasures. When it comes to his hoarding he essentially has the dragon equivalent to having eyes bigger than your stomach.
Haize, however, has your more traditional dragon's hoard of miscellanous treasures, artifacts, coins from birthdays, and prized family gifts. Much of her hoard consists of trinkets Haru grew bored with but that she still saw interest in and wanted to give renewed purpose, she isn't nearly as picky but is very curious and likes to inspect an item before taking it in. She'll often let Haru have a treasure knowing that he'll get tired of it within the hour- though she has been known to assert her place as the eldest sibling if there is a gift for her she particularly wants and Haru usually shies off. Haize doesn't assert herself as the eldest often so he knows it's business if she does for things like food or treasure. Haru keeps her hoard partially in and around the her nest as well as the family nest in Falin and Marcille's room! Her nest in the guardian is where she keeps most of her baby clothes, toys, trinkets, and cloths/blankets. She just feels they're safest there and prefers to sleep near them <3.
Also, fun tid bits on how dragons train their kids to gain treasure!: Typically young dragons get the urge to grab and snatch at shiny things as soon as they're able to crawl around functionally and protect themselves- which is pretty early due to them being predators of a mythical variety- so they'll often try and steal treasure from their parent's hoard! Older dragons use this as stealth training for their young and will often guard their treasure, sitting stop or nearby and continuously removing their children until they manage to sneak by successfully to take a trinket. Typically the larger/shiner/whatever is more impressive for the type of dragon you are is what is most rewarded for by parents but they do punish thinking a bit too big. It's good to know your limits! better to have 5 gold coins than 5 gold bricks you cant carry.
so Falin was very often having to train Haru and haize to amass their own treasures which was much easier for Haize due to her slinky and stealthy body allowing for quicker and quieter movement! Haru had to learn to fight, due to his regular baby limbs and range of movement, which didnt really work because he's so itty bitty but the thought was appreciated by Falin, learning to stand your ground is good too!
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nrilliree · 20 hours
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I saw a post complaining that the show goes above and beyond to give Syrax a personality + bond with Rhaenyra but doesn’t even given TG dragons personality/bonds with their riders and they’re neglected and they specifically named Dreamfyre and I just- Dreamfyre is basically non existent in this narrative. Helaena herself neglected Dreamfyre so, why would they waste money and resources giving a dragon that doesn’t even participate in the dance a personality + bond with its rider?
Not to mention Rhaneyra is the centre of the story. Syrax was in the cradle with Rhaenyra and she was the youngest dragon rider and only dragon rider Syrax has known and at the stage were at in the show, she’s been with Syrax for over 20+ years. Syrax is the mother of the dragons of Rhaenyra’s children. Why wouldn’t they highlight over and over again the bond between these two and how connected they are?
It’s bad enough TG has made up entirely new characters and slapped the names ‘Alicent’ and ‘Aemond’ on it and now they want to make up dragon bonds and personalities as well 🤦🏽‍♀️
Well, I'm sorry, but why don't Aegon, Aemond and Helaena have the opportunity to appear on screen more often? Because the show still makes Alicent a more important character than them, even though as they grow up, she should be pushed aside in favor of Aegon and Aemond. I know that according to them, screen time should be taken from TB and given to them, but it doesn't work like that…
Dragons are incredibly expensive. There weren't many of them in GoT, the focus was mainly on Drogon, although their designs were identical and with such dirty colors that it was sometimes difficult to tell them apart. In HotD, each dragon has a unique design, the colors are bright and distinct, so they must be even more expensive to make. So it's clear they won't push them any more than absolutely necessary. Dragons appear when and only when they are needed in the plot. TG want season 2 to start with Helaena and Dreamfyre in the same scene as season 1 started with Rhaenyra and Syrax. Syrax and Rhaenyra showed up for the usual ride, but that was just to show that "hey look, she's the main character" and then we don't see "unnecessary scenes" like that unless they serve to introduce something, like showing that Laena he is now a Vhagar rider. The truth is that neither Helaena nor Dreamfyre are important in the Dance. Helaena will be important in the B&C scene and her own death. This is the sad truth. She doesn't do anything else. Dreamfyre will probably appear in two or at most three scenes throughout the series - perhaps the funeral, Helaena's death, and during the assault on the Dragon Pit. Similarly with wild dragons - people want them to appear, but if the Cannibal does appear, it will be for a few seconds when he eats someone.
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