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raven-dor · 4 months ago

Note

Hi loves!!

I love your gwayne Hightower fics!

Can I have a request of gwayne x Targaryen reader (reader is rhaenyra’s young sis) where they are married for a while now then blood and cheese happened instead of jaeherys, one of their twins got killed 😔 and they’re both devastated

but still reader loves her sister (of course) and knows it’s not her fault

Thank you !! Sorry for any wrong grammars😅

are you satisfied?

In which gwayne hightower and his wife, rhaenyra targaryen’s sister, experience a great tragedy

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x targaryen!reader

WARNINGS: death, fighting, typical HOTD violence, like three swear words, 'betrayal'

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

AN: gwayne and the reader's children's names are Visenya and Velarion, and the reader is the rider of Silverwing

Gwayne always loved the fact that his wife’s violet eyes and bright white hair had transferred to their children. He thought his wife was far more comely than he, and he thanked the gods his children hadn’t received his looks.

(Y/N made him swear to stop saying such things, that he was extremely handsome.)

He smiled as his wife played hide and seek with their twins, pretending not to see their obvious hiding spots. She was an amazing mother, he told her as often as he could. His own mother had been cold, choosing court life over raising her children on more than one occasion. He had still loved her dearly, but it seemed, as he grew older, that that love was not returned.

Over time, Gwayne had come to realize that his distaste for King’s Landing stemmed from his mother’s choices. When he had returned for the tourney celebrating the new heir, Prince Baelon, he found a reason to enjoy its high walls. Princess Y/N was a year younger than her sister, but it seemed as if she was much wiser and more deliberate in her decisions.

Because Y/N had loved King’s Landing, he had pretended to enjoy the place. He couldn’t stand to see the look of disappointment stretch across her beautiful face.

So when Alicent sent a letter to Gwayne asking him to bring his family to King’s Landing, he couldn’t refuse. But he so wanted to. Y/N sensed his distaste immediately. She knew him too well, he would say.

His wife hadn’t wanted to return to King’s Landing either, her childhood home turned into that of a prison. Bringing their children, she argued, would put their whole family in danger. Gwayne had agreed, but how could he refuse the Dowager Queen?

Y/N hadn’t supported Ageon’s claim, being very forthcoming with her husband when the topic arose. Gwayne remained stoic, never letting anyone know of his true opinion, not even his dear lady wife. If he had backed Rhaenyra, he reasoned with himself, his family would have been killed, and it wouldn’t have mattered that he was the Queen’s brother. If he told Y/N he supported his nephew, she would surely shun him. Which was almost as horrible as any punishment he could have received.

Gwayne laughed as his son, Valerion, dashed across the room, hiding behind his father’s legs. The young boy looked up at his father, putting a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell her, Father.”

Gwayne nodded, looking back to his wife, who was smirking. “Oh where, I wonder, is my little boy?” She looked over at the curtains, ripping it open. “He is such a clever boy, I am sure I will never find him.”

Valerion giggled, and Y/N whipped around, laughing. “What was that?” She looked to her husband. “Did you hear that, my love?”

Gwayne shook his head, forcing himself to remain stoic. “I believe you are imagining things, my dear.”

Valerion giggled again. “She’ll never find me.”

Y/N practically bit her hand. “I keep hearing his voice…” She tiptoed over, jumping behind Gwayne and tickling their son. “I got you!”

Visenya peeked her head out from under the bed. “Does that mean I win?”

Gwayne let loose a loud laugh, gripping his stomach. “You are the champion, my dear.” He walked over, grabbing her from her hiding spot and spinning her around. “Bravo.”

Y/N sighed, hugging Valerion tightly. Their son squirmed, pushing away from his mother. “Mummy please. I’m grown-” Y/N gasped, looking at her son with fake hurt in her eyes.

“You are too old for embracing your mother now?” She sat him on the floor, pretending to cry. “You are six years old now, I should have known.”

Valerion glared playfully at his mother. “Don’t cry, Mummy.”

“I can’t help it.” She giggled. “Soon you’ll be gone and I will never see you again.”

His eyes widened. “But I don’t want to leave!”

Y/N stopped ‘crying’ and looked down at their son with surprise. “Well, that is good news.” She picked him up, hugging him tightly once more. “I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I tucked you in then?”

He shook his head. “Can you tell us a story?”

Visenya nodded eagerly. “Please Mother.”

Y/N sighed, like she was contemplating if she was going to tell them a story or not. “Well, if you insist…”

Gwayne smiled, setting Visenya down. “Be good for your mother, you two.” He walked over, kissing Y/N on the cheek. “Don’t stay up too late, darling.”

The twins looked repulsed, scrunching their noses. Valerion groaned.“Father…”

He looked down, smiling warmly. “One day, your children will make the same noises of disgust at you and your wife, Valerion, and I will remind you of this day.”

Valerion looked disgusted. “I will never marry. I will be free with my dragon, and we will fly across the seven kingdoms.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “If only it were that simple, my sweet boy.” She clapped her hands, ushering the twins out of the room. “Now, time for bed.”

Visenya yelled. “And a story!”

Y/N nodded, shutting the door behind her. “And a story.”

The twins' eyes drooped, but Y/N continued the story, knowing that if she stopped, she would be scolded. “And then Rhaenyra and I boarded our dragons, flew to Dragonstone, and retrieved our brother’s egg from our Uncle.” She smirked. “Your grandfathers were furious.”

Valerion whispered. “Do you miss your sister, Mother?”

Y/N nodded, her eyes tearing up at the thought. “Everyday my boy.” She pushed his hair out of his eyes, kissing his forehead gently. “Just as you will miss yours one day.”

Visenya laughed. “We will never be apart. I will make sure of it.”

Y/N smiled. “Goodnight children.” She stood up, walking over to her daughter and kissing her forehead. “Sleep well.”

She took one last look at the pair, almost laughing at the fact that they were already asleep. She blew out their candle, shutting the door gently behind her. She had gotten halfway back to her chambers when a child’s scream echoed through the halls.

Her blood curdled, and she whipped around racing back towards their chambers. Pulling her dagger out of its sheath, she pushed their doors open, whispering. “Childre-” Her eyes widened, and she glared, gripping her dagger tighter. “Who are you?”

Two men stood in front of her twin’s beds, rat traps over their shoulders. The taller one turned around and Y/n recognized him immediately as one of the City Watchmen. His eyes widened. “Your Highness.”

She put on a brave face, but her heart was racing. “What are you doing Sergeant?”

The man ignored her, hissing at his accomplice. “This is the wrong room. He wouldn’t want her chi-”

The smaller man interrupted, gesturing back to the Princess. “It’s too late. She’s going to tell.”

Y/N shook her head, whispering so that her children wouldn’t wake up. “I won’t. Just don’t hurt my children, and I swear I won’t.”

The small man ignored her, lowering his dagger towards Valerion’s neck. The Sergeant hissed. “That’s not who he wanted.” Reaching his arm out, he pulled the ‘rat catcher’ away from the bed. The ‘rat catcher’ jumped, and his knife fell out of his hand, plunging into her son’s neck.

Y/N gasped, a hand covering her mouth. The room was silent, none of them moving.

The Sergeant looked panicked. “Your Highness-”

A tear fell, and she looked up at the pair, whispering. “You are going to pay for that.”

She walked forward, raising her dagger and plunging it into the murderer’s neck before either of them had the chance to defend themselves. She later would say that it served them right, they carelessly murdered her son, and so she simply returned the favor.

The Sergeant pushed her away, grabbing his dying accomplice and racing towards the tunnels. She screamed, falling to the floor. Visenya stirred, her eyes opening slowly. “Mummy? What-”

Y/N wiped away her tears, ripping her daughter out of her bed. She shoved Visenya’s face into her neck, whispering soothingly. As soothingly as she could for just witnessing her son’s murder. ”Go back to sleep my love.”

Visenya’s eyes fluttered. “What about-”

“Shh, my dear.” Y/N felt her eyes well up. “Shh.”

Tucking Visenya in on the couch in their shared chambers, Y/N stalked towards their bedroom, her heart beating against her chest. “Gwayne.” She hissed. He stayed asleep. Anger raced through her veins, how could he sleep through this? She shook him harshly, on the verge of yelling. “Wake up.”

He grumbled, rolling over. “What is-” His eyes widened, throwing the covers off as he examined his wife. “You are drenched in blood.”

“Gwayne…” She sobbed, falling to the ground as he watched helplessly. “He’s dead.”

Gwayne felt worried, and sat beside his wife, rubbing circles into her back. “Who is dead, my love?”

“Valerion.” She wailed, throwing herself into her arms as more tears streamed down her face. “Valerion!”

Gwayne’s heart dropped. “What?”

“They-”

“Who?” He grabbed his wife’s arms, eyes piercing into hers. “Who?”

“I don’t know. Some rat catcher and a-” She sobbed again. “A City Watchman.” He stood and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of their room and back toward their children’s chambers. Y/N fought against her husband's hold, still violently sobbing. “No, Gwayne please do not make me go back.”

He stopped, realizing that she had truly seen everything. “My love, we have to. We need-” He choked on a sob he hadn’t known was forming. “We need to be strong for a little longer.”

Without waiting for her response, he pushed the twins’ doors open, their son lying lifelessly in his bed. He let go of Y/N’s hand, racing over to Valerion’s side. He gently pulled the knife from his son’s chest, pushing his bright white hair out of his eyes. “My boy.”

Y/N wailed once more. “Valerion, this isn’t funny, you’ve upset your mother.” His throat felt as if it was closing up. “Valerion, wake up right now.” He felt his son’s throat, finally accepting his death when he felt no pulse. He fell back, staring at the bed. “We need to notify someone.”

“Who?” Y/N cried. “Alicent? My drunken half brother of a king?”

“Anyone in the Keep, Y/N.” He stared at their son. “How did this happen?”

She simply shrugged, climbing up off the floor. “I must leave.”

His head whipped over, staring at his wife in shock. “You are leaving?”

“I will be back, I swear to you.”

“Where are you-”

“Leave it!” She snapped, a rage in her eyes that Gwayne had never seen. He nodded, watching as she walked out of their children’s room and down the hall.

Dragonstone was quiet, Y/N noticed. Of course it was, night still covered its dark walls. She landed Silverwing on the hill above the castle, stalking toward the entrance. “I demand to see my sister.”

The guard laughed. “And you are-”

“Y/N.” Rhaenyra stepped out from the shadows. “What are you doing here?”

“My son has been murdered.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, another sob breaking out. “He’s dead, Rhaenyra.”

Rhaenyra ushered her sister inside, out of the watchful eyes of her family and advisors. Rhaenyra closed her chamber doors, and sat her sister down, kneeling in front of her. “What do you mean-”

“My son has been murdered. That is what I mean.” She glared at the older woman. “Did you-”

“Seven hells, Y/N. Of course not.” She took Y/N’s hands in hers. “Do you really think that I would order the death of a child, let alone my sweet nephew?”

“I just-” Y/N sighed. “I had to make sure.” Taking one last look at her dear sister, she stood, nodding. “I will see myself out.”

Rhaneyra watched as her sister glided across the room. Just as the door opened, she cried out. “I miss you.”

Y/N smiled. “I miss you too.” She’d almost reached the exit of the castle when she felt eyes following her every step. “Iēdrosa hiding isse se shadows, nyke ūndegon. (Still hiding in the shadows, I see.)”

He stepped out, his face taking in the sight of his ‘traitorous’ niece. “Iēdrosa married naejot se hightower orvorta, nyke ūndegon. (Still married to the Hightower cunt, I see.)”

She held her head up high, glaring at her uncle. “I’ll have you know that cunt is a good man. A better man than you will ever be.” Guilt flashed across his face, but she continued. “I don’t appreciate your insinuation that I support the usurper that is my half brother, and if you repeat that mistake again, you will have more than my words attacking you.” She nodded, walking past him. “Goodbye, Daemon.”

Visenya had been wailing for days. Wailing over the death of her brother, and wailing over the fact that neither of her parents could look at her without tearing up. The couple sat beside each other at dinner, scarcely eating or speaking. Alicent sighed. “It does your daughter no good if you die of hunger.”

Y/N looked up from her plate, tilting her head, hoping she had just misheard. “What did you just-”

Gwayne grabbed her hand tightly under the table, signaling to not pick a fight. “Quite right, sister.”

Alicent smiled. “We are very fortunate.”

Y/N fought against her impulse to pull her dagger out and commit a massacre. “How so?”

“That they had the children’s rooms confused.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. She must have been hallucinating. “Excuse me?”

“I only meant it would have been quite catastrophic if the assassins had found Jaehaerys instead of Velarion.”

Y/N smiled, and she could tell it had unnerved Alicent. “Yes, because my son is much less important than the heir to the throne. Thank the gods it was Velarion instead of Jaehaerys.”

Gwayne stilled, setting his silverware down. Alicent’s cheeks flushed. “I hope I did not upset you.”

Y/N laughed, so loudly that the whole room stopped talking, staring at the woman drowning in her grief. “Of course not. You began upsetting me twenty years ago.”

Aegon smiled drunkenly. “Sister-”

“You are no brother of mine, Aegon. So do not start acting it because of this little spat.” She pushed her chair out, making an announcement. “We will be leaving at first light. This has been, by far, the worst encounter I have ever had with King’s Landing.”

Gwayne raced after his wife, not even bothering to say goodbye to his family. “Y/N-”

“I cannot believe you.”

“What?”

“You just sat there, Gwayne.” She seethed, practically running down the halls. “Our son is dead, and you sat there and let your sister act as if it was a minor loss. An accident.”

“My love-”

“Don’t!” She snapped. “I am taking Visenya, and we are going to Dragonstone.” She stopped outside their chambers, whispering so that their guards would not hear. “I do not care where you go, but I do not wish to ever see your face again.”

He sighed, walking into their room after her. “Y/N-”

“Gwayne, that is the end of our discussion-”

“No it is not!” He yelled. “I am grieving as well. You do not get to pretend I am not.”

“Then show it!” She yelled back. “You have been silent for days. You do not defend me at dinner, you do not defend me at all. You sit there like you are dead yourself.” She scoffed. “You might as well be.”

Gwayne was practically glowering. “Do not say things you do not mean, wife.”

“I will say-”

“Mummy?” The couple looked down, realizing they had just fought loudly in front of their daughter. Y/N crouched down, opening her arms.

“Come here, my love.”

Visenya faltered, and Gwayne watched as Y/N cracked, standing up. She barely spared a glance at Gwayne. “I will be sleeping in my own chambers tonight.”

He shook his head. “No.”

She scoffed. “I didn’t realize you controlled me, my lord.”

He widened his eyes, gesturing down to their daughter who was watching with wide watery eyes. “Y/N, do me this one kindness.”

“Gwayne, I need to be alone.” She stepped back, walking towards her secret exit when his hand wrapped gently around her wrist, pulling her back. His breath hit her neck as he whispered. “Sleep in our bed. I will stand watch, and we will leave at first light for Dragonstone.” She turned around, her eyes wide. He looked determined, and in that moment, Y/N understood that he would do anything to keep them together. Her heart skipped as he bore his soul to hers, his voice heavy. “I will not have my family thrown into chaos and ruin.”

Her eyes were teary as she whispered. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “Go to bed.” He turned back to their daughter, carrying her over to her makeshift bed. Visenya’s sweet voice could be heard whispering to her father. “Did I upset Mummy?”

“No my dear.” He kissed her head gently. “Your mother is hurting, as am I. Never forget that we love you dearly.” He tucked her back into bed. “Sleep tight, little one.”

It had been surprisingly easy to escape the Red Keep. Y/N gathered it was because they did not think anyone would want to leave, which made her laugh. Who would want to be held captive in such a place?

Gwayne never understood how Targaryen’s flew dragons like it was as simple as riding a horse. Being this high up horrified him, but his wife and daughter enjoyed it immensely. Visenya giggled as she reached out, grabbing a cloud with her bare hands. “Father, open your eyes!”

Y/N laughed. “Your father is frightened, dear.”

Gwayne scoffed. “I am not. I’m simply-”

“Scared!” Visenya laughed. “I thought knights were supposed to be brave, Father.”

Gwayne gasped, clutching his heart as he forced his eyes open. “Are you calling me a coward, young lady?”

Y/N smiled, forgetting for a moment that their family had been torn apart only four days ago. “Hang on.”

“Hang on?” Gwayne questioned. “Why-”

Silverwing dove, and Gwayne felt the air leave his lungs, clutching onto his wife’s waist. “Seven Hells!”

Y/N laughed, her hair flying in the wind. “Enjoy it, my love!” The great dragon landed roughly on the same hill she had visited days before. Helping down Visenya, she smirked as her husband clambered off of her dragon’s back. “Careful, Gwayne.”

“I am-” His leg caught on the saddle, and he fell backwards, causing his two silver haired beauties to burst into tears. “Do not laugh.”

“It is quite difficult.” Y/N’s violet eyes glittered in the sun. “Come down, we have much to do.”

Y/N held Visenya close to her as they approached her sister and her family. Gwayne trailed behind the two, looking around the room skeptically. Rhaenyra sat tall on her throne. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, sister?”

Y/N bowed deeply. “Your Grace, we come to swear allegiance to you, and ask that you allow us to stay with you on Dragonstone.”

Daemon laughed. “And why would we-”

With one look, Rhaneyra shut Daemon. “That is not necessary, Y/N.” She stood up, embracing her sister tightly. The elder sister looked down, waving at the young girl. “Hello, little one.”

Visenya smiled shyly, clinging to her mother’s form. Y/N laughed, whispering. “Visenya, this is your Aunt Rhaenyra. Say hello.”

Rhaenyra laughed. “Hello, Visenya. You are the spitting image of your mother.”

The young girl blushed, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Mother, what is the meaning of-” A tall, dark-haired young man sauntered in. “Y/N!” He rushed over, hugging her tightly. “How-”

“I was most tired of the 'hospitality' of King’s Landing.” She smirked. “If one could call it that." She stepped back, taking in her grown nephew. "My, you have grown. Last I saw you, you were half your height.”

He scoffed, glaring playfully. “Yes, well…”

Rhaenyra clapped her hands. “Let us show you to your rooms.” She put her arm through her sisters. “You must be exhausted.”

“One moment.” Daemon’s voice rang through the throne room. “What about her traitorous husband?”

“Daemon-”

Y/N glared. “What did I tell you would happen if you said that again?”

Daemon laughed. “I would like to see you-”

Gwayne's auburn hair blocked her view of her uncle, standing in between the two. Y/N smiled. Standing in between two angry Targaryens was a recipe for death, and yet there her husband stood, stoic as ever.

“Please.” He turned to the King Consort. “I know that my family has done nothing but hurt yours…” He spared a look to his wife. “But you must understand that my love for your niece has overcome any loyalty I once had to my family.”

“How can we be sure you will not betray-”

Gwayne hissed. “They are the reason my son is dead. I will never forgive them.”

Daemon nodded. “Very well.”

Gwayne nodded back, turning to his wife. “Let us go rest my love.” He kissed her temple, following after the queen. “I believe we have earned it."

taglist: @beebeechaos

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taintandviolent · 7 months ago

Text

A Real Man ; Jimmy Darling x reader

summary: Reader is a married to a chump. A real chump who doesn't know what he's got and as far as Jimmy Darling is concerned, reader needs to be treated right for once.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 3.6k! | married female reader, infidelity, brief usage of Y/N, judgemental language, fingering, dry humping, arousal, kissing/making out, slight angst with the fact that Jimmy can't keep every woman he meets.

a/n: requested by @babygorewhore! this was supposed to be a drabble, but it turned into a 3K fic. sorry, sorry, sorry! as always, sorry if this is horrible!!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

Jimmy peeked through the gap in the curtain -- it was almost a full house. Good. Elsa would be pleased, and when she was pleased, she was less likely to nitpick; something that all of the troupe tried to avoid.

His dark eyes spotted you heading towards the front, a giddy skip in your step. Your beauty took his breath away; he was almost disappointed to see a man following close behind you as you searched for a place to sit. Judging by your body language, Jimmy could tell you were excited. A small smile crawled across his lips as he watched you. He loved when pretty girls were excited for the show – made his performance that much better. You briefly made eye contact, and a small, shy smile curved around your red lips. Jimmy looked to the front row, and you followed his gaze. Your eyes lit up and you turned to your husband, pointing in the direction of the front.

"Let's sit -- ow!"

Roger gripped your bicep, yanking you hard backwards, away from the decision you'd made. Jimmy furrowed his brow and squared his shoulders, ready to put a man in his place if he had to. His fists balled up into fleshy wads; he didn’t like what he was seeing. Ain’t no reason for a woman to be treated like that…

"I don't want us sitting too close to them. Might catch something." he snarled, towing you towards some empty wooden chairs in the third row. A horrible sensation roiled in your stomach, making you nauseous. Suddenly ashamed to even be with a man with that kind of mindset, you couldn't help but scowl at your husband's sour opinion. Embarrassed, you kept your gaze away from the man behind the curtain, hoping he hadn't seen or heard any of that.

"Roger," you said softly, reprimanding him in the nicest way you could. "They aren't sick, they're just different."

A hush fell over the crowd as you settled into your seats and a bearded woman came out, welcoming everyone to the show. Much to your dismay, your husband was immediately disgusted and continued making snide comments under his breath.

Not brave enough to say it aloud , you thought. Coward.

As the show got started, it was easy to forget about Roger's little comments. You happily engulfed yourself in the wonderful acts that they put on, particularly delighted by all the musical performances. Not only were they putting their disabilities and differences on display for the world to see and judge – which was admirable in and of itself – but they were genuinely a very talented troupe.

After the show ended, Roger, who had scowled and crossed his arms the entire time, was the first to exit, shoving his way past people, muttering angrily as he did. Apologizing to the offended individuals he left in his wake, you ducked underneath the tent flap, heading after him.

"Makes me sick, that was a waste of time. Freaks like that oughta' be put outta' their misery."

You clenched your teeth, pressing your purse tightly to your abdomen as you walked. You'd just about had it with his disparaging commentary, and that comment was the final straw. Taking a deep breath, you dug your heels into the dirt, stopping yourself. "How DARE you!"

"Excuse me?!" Roger spun around, his expression a terrifying mixture of anger and surprise. He'd never heard you yell like that. It made him angrier than he was before, and he charged at you like an animal, ready to strike.

You righted yourself, standing your ground. In reality, there was nothing to be gained from defending these people, but something in your stomach told you that you had to. You narrowed your eyes as you continued, taking one step away from him.

"They're people too, just like you and me!" Your voice was shrill and determined.

"No! They ain't!" He stuck his finger in your face, nearly jabbing it into your nose. Roger's rebuttal was filled with so much venom, it made you reel back with a gasp. He'd always been an abrasive sort, but this wasn't the man you married.

Jimmy and Paul were helping move some of the set pieces off the stage when Del abruptly straightened up, cocking an ear towards the entrance. The hollering continued, and could be heard from inside the tent. “You hear that?”

“Sure do,” Paul said. Jimmy nodded in agreement. A couple arguing was never a good sign, and usually something that needed to be dealt with quickly. Jimmy’s heart sank; he had a pretty good idea of who it was. They all hurried towards the entrance, and as soon as Jimmy lifted the flap of the tent, he spotted you.

You stamped your foot, causing a cloud of dust to float up around your heels. "That's a wretched thing to say, and you know it! You're being so hateful, Roger!"

He gestured to the men behind you as they approached. "Well, if you're so fond of 'em, maybe you oughta' run away and join 'em! Suits me just fine!"

And with that, he stomped off, headed towards the car. With anxiety bubbling up your throat, you ran after him, calling his name. He either didn't hear you or didn't care, because he didn't turn around. You suspected it was the latter.

As the car lurched forward onto the road, the engine revved and the tires spun, spitting gravel and dust back at you. For a moment, you ran down the dirt pathway, trying to catch up to him. It was futile, but the humiliation drove you forward. You couldn't even look back at the men, unsure if they had seen everything.

You'd made it out onto the main road, but Roger's car was out of view. Out of breath, you finally stopped, huffing a defeated breath. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision. What were you to do? You looked down the road, there were some buildings up ahead. Surely, one of them had a phone. As much as it hurt your ego, you knew the only option was to walk and call Roger at home, and apologize for whatever you'd done.

Back at the field, Jimmy was fuming. He'd seen you take off, running after the car desperately, and watched as the distance between you two grew.

“I’ll get her,” he volunteered, already jogging off towards his bike. Del scoffed, unsurprised and rolled his eyes. Of course Jimmy would be the one to go find her.

As he headed for his trailer, Jimmy's temper flared. He resented the way that your boyfriend, husband, whoever he was, had shucked you off like you were nothing. Not to mention, the way he'd treated you in the show, right in front of everyone. That wasn’t right. And he wasn’t gonna’ stand for it. Part of him hoped that he'd get the chance to talk to this Roger fellow.

With tears streaming down your rouged cheeks, you ambled down the road, heading in the direction that he'd gone. Your husband had never done anything like that before, and you weren’t sure what to do next. He’d left you stranded. All because you’d opened your big, sympathetic mouth and tried to defend the freaks from his senseless hate. You'd only just gotten to the top of the hill when you heard the low rumble of an engine slowing behind you. Great. Just what you needed - someone to harass you further.

“Hey, sweetheart. You alright?” Jimmy raised his voice over the growl of his motorcycle. Despite that, there was genuine concern in his voice as he crept closer to you, approaching you apprehensively like he would a scared animal.

Turning your head to meet the voice, you swallowed back a sob, and straightened up, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand. “Y-yes, I'm just fine, thank you.”

Jimmy was next to you now, and you got a good look at his face. It was the man from the show, the one that you'd seen peeking out from behind the curtains. The Lobster Boy. You stopped walking, and his bike rolled to a stop next to you.

"You sure about that?" He asked, leaning forward on the handlebars.

You looked over at him, your lower lip trembling like a child. He just had to show you some kindness, some warmth in that moment, and that, regrettably, brought the tears back. They spilled over your cheeks, flowing freely. Jimmy reached forward and swept his gloved thumb over your cheek, wicking away the tears that tumbled over. “Baby, baby… you’re too pretty to cry that way, you know that?”

You sniffled pitifully. Bright, wet eyes lifted from the road to his suntanned face. He was so warm, so sweet… like some fresh cotton candy from the stand by the ferris wheel. The wind rustled through the bright, green leaves and you heaved a sigh.

“It’s just that my husband… he-he...” You sniffled loudly, and wiped another set of tears away.

“Hey-hey. Shh. It’s okay, dollface. I saw what happened back there. You don't gotta' relive it. Tell you what. Why don't you hop on?"

"Oh, no I couldn't... I... should get home."

Jimmy shook his head lightly, knowing that home was the last place you wanted to be.

"Sweetheart, what's your name?"

"Y/N..." you said quietly.

"Y/N, listen. It ain't right for a man to leave a woman like that..."

You knew it. Roger hadn't been right that entire afternoon, from the comments to him leaving you. He'd been out of line the entire time, and it infuriated you, doubled you up in anger, though you didn’t show. "Mr. Darling," You started, recalling his name from the show.

"Jimmy." He interjected.

"Jimmy," you started again, chewing on the corner of your lip. "I appreciate the offer, but I just... I can't..."

"Sure you can." His voice was low and sweet, like honey as it filled your ears. "Does he take care of you?"

Taken aback by the question, you furrowed your brows, silently asking what he meant. Jimmy cleared his throat and straightened up on his bike, casually brushing something from the thigh of his jeans.

"What I mean is, does he treat you right? Take care of your needs...?"

You swallowed hard, averting your gaze. That was all the confirmation he needed. Jimmy kicked down the stand of his bike, and got off of it, closing in the distance between the two of you.

“Babydoll,” Jimmy started, leaning closer to you. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, his eyes sweeping over your face. You were unbelievable, one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen – and he’d seen some. The closeness had his heart thumping and his groin flushed with heat. He hadn't intended for this, but something about the way you looked up at him with those big, ol' pretty eyes had his head spinning.

Jimmy lifted your chin with his knuckle. "Get on my bike, and lemme' show you how a real man treats a woman."

Oh, live a little, you thought. Your husband was nowhere to be found, and he was the one who had left you. Whatever repercussions occurred because of that were out of your control. It was decided. Adjusting your purse on your shoulder, you stepped to Jimmy's bike, and carefully got on. Jimmy joined you with a proud smile, and revved the engine.

Looking both ways, Jimmy made a wide turn, getting you both pointed back in the direction of the tents. The wind whistled through your hair, locks fluttering behind you. You squeezed Jimmy's torso tighter as he sped up, heading back down the road. He smelled like cotton, sweat and sun. You nuzzled your face into his back, living in the moment. Jimmy smiled, knowingly.

The ride was short, but exhilarating. You'd never ridden on a motorcycle, and the memory was something you'd cherish. You held onto his broad, toned shoulders, steadying yourself as he pulled into the field; the bumps of the dirt road jostling you about. He pulled up behind his caravan, killed the engine and hopped off. He grinned brightly at you, his large, gloved hands reaching for your waist. "C'mon, off you go."

He lifted you carefully off the bike as you swung your leg over the seat. Your heel caught on the edge, sending you stumbling into his arms. The closeness was abrupt, but very welcome. Your breath hitched in your throat.

"Easy - you alright?"

"Just clumsy," you murmured, putting enough distance between your bodies to smooth out the skirt of your dress.

With one hand, Jimmy guided you up the small steps of his trailer, holding the door open for you.

A flash of worry crossed his face as he took off his gloves, setting them on the kitchen counter. He saw your eyes dart down to his hands, scanning over the fleshy, conjoined digits, but there was a hint of intrigue in your eyes - you weren't put off. That was enough for him to make a move.

"C'mere, baby. Let me take care of you."

Without another word, Jimmy wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you into his chest. His lips connected with yours in a warm kiss - warm like the summer sun. Everything about him was intoxicating and you were drunk on him, lust-blown and wanting more. Boldly, his fingers closed around the zipper pull of your dress and pulled it carefully down your back, pressing his lips against your shoulder as he slid the sleeve down. His fingertips trailed softly down your spine, sending a chill through your body. He guided the dress off your body, allowing it to fall to your feet. You stepped out of the circle of fabric, and wrapped your arms around his neck. With strong, passionate kisses, he walked you backwards through the trailer, carefully navigating you to the back portion where the bedroom was. You were thankful he was in control, because you felt yourself wobble, dizzy with lust. The back of your legs finally hit the edge of the mattress, and Jimmy guided you backwards, until you were laying flat.

Perched at the end of his bed, he reached forward to touch you. You bit your lip, looking shy and unsure. You’d never been in your lingerie in front of any other man besides your husband, and your heart thudded against your ribcage at the thought of what you were about to experience. Jimmy's large, warm hands explored your flesh, covering every exposed inch in gentle, persuasive touches. You'd already wordlessly agreed to whatever he was doing, but every touch pushed you further over that edge, turning you into putty in his hands. You exhaled a shaky breath, watching him as he worked. His fingers swept past your ankles, up your calves and finally over the curve of your knees, where he gently spread them apart.

"My husband never does this..." You cooed, nervously. You weren't sure how to act, but you hoped natural instinct would kick in soon.

"I know." was all Jimmy said before dipping his head between your legs. He pressed kisses along your inner thighs, nearing your aching center. The closer he got, the more you writhed in his grip. Pressing a single kiss against your stomach, his teeth grazed your tummy as he took the elastic waistband of your panties between his teeth, pulling them down. His fingers met halfway, and pulled them to your ankles, where he tenderly guided your feet out of the holes.

You were on full display now and your tummy clenched. Perhaps she clenched too, because Jimmy swallowed back a deep groan, his eyes rolling back slightly. The sight of a woman, wet and waiting for him, never got old. Ever. Jimmy crawled up onto the bed, positioning himself at your side. His cock ached desperately, twitching to life, but it wasn't about him. Your pleasure was the focus, and he could wait. With all his experience at Tupperware parties, he'd gotten real good at keeping his arousal at bay until he was alone.

Above you, Jimmy’s brown eyes searched your face, flashing you a bright smile."You alright, baby?"

You nodded, spreading your legs slightly. One of his hands trailed along your stomach, softly caressing the skin as he made his way down. Breath hitching in your throat again, you unintentionally arched your back up into his touch. His fingertips met your core, and his thumb swept over your folds, spreading them gently. He explored them sweetly, taking his time to play with the slickness that met him.

"You like that?"

You mewled in response, eyes rolling back in your head.

"C'mon, lemme hear you... nothin' to be embarrassed of here."

No words came out, but a pleading, satisfied moan tumbled off your lips. You thought his act was singing and showing off his claws -- not reading minds. You were never loud with your husband; he found it obnoxious when women were too loud.

With that, Jimmy slipped into you slowly, taking his time to breach your entrance.You gasped, eyes wide and glued to the ceiling. You gripped his arms, steadying yourself as you adjusted, widening your legs a little more. The girth of his fingers stunned you, you'd never felt so full, even with your husband. They immediately curved up to hit the spongy, sensitive flesh, massaging it while his thumb circled your clit.

He may have conditioned himself into not pleasuring himself while he was giving his all to a woman, but your wanton moans and whimpers... hell... you were makin' it so hard . He clenched his jaw, watching you as your sweet, lush hips rolled back and forth to meet his fingers each time he withdrew them.

Each breath was a moan, and you couldn't stop them, the euphoria that you felt was too much. You were a perfect picture of arousal; cheeks flushed, hair mussed up and flayed out on his pillowcase, back arched, and hips undulating to meet his touch. Jimmy was used to women during pleasure, but something about the way you whimpered his name had gotten him worked up.

His cock was rock hard, tenting against his old, softened jeans. Jimmy ground his hips once against your hip, forcing friction and testing your reaction. The slick wet spot on his boxers shifted, and he let loose a throaty, low sound. He couldn't take it anymore.

Thankfully, you let out a pleased sound of surprise, and whispered: "Do that again..."

You begged him for more, your nails leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his biceps. The way he touched you was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, and certainly nothing that your husband had ever done for you. Jimmy pushed his fingers deeper, thrusting them in and out and coating them with your slick.

Jimmy groaned, your candy-sweet voice filled his ears and his caravan. His hips rutted against you again, finding a pleasurable rhythm that stroked his shaft as he moved. He would've given anything to have been inside you. He fucked you faster, and your tight, warm cunt squeezed around his fingers. His hips jerked abruptly, pressing his cock hard into your side. The sensations were too much, you couldn’t hold back any longer.

"Jimmy, I'm gonna'... I feel like I'm.... oh god."

Your legs tensed and then began quivering as your orgasm washed over you, your jaw dropping in a high-pitched moan. You pulsed around his fingers as you came, saying his name over and over again.

Jimmy felt the tightness of his own orgasm approaching, withdrew his fingers, and climbed on top of you, hurriedly. With one hand, he undid his jeans and pulled his throbbing cock free from his boxers. “Sorry, baby… I need to feel you.” The fat, scarlet tip leaked pre-cum onto you as he ground it against your cunt, slipping in between the warm folds. You dropped your head against the pillow again, whimpering at how sensitive you’d become – the friction of his cock on your clit was making you see stars. Jimmy’s hips lost their rhythm abruptly, stuttering as he emptied himself all over your stomach, white ropes of cum decorating the soft flesh.

After taking his undershirt off to clean up the mess he’d made, Jimmy laid with you, stroking your collarbone tenderly. You fell asleep on his small bed, wrapping yourself in the warm cotton sheets. As your lids drifted shut, you thought not of Roger, but of cotton candy, warm and melting on your tongue where the taste of Jimmy Darling still lingered.

The sun was setting when Jimmy finally emerged from his trailer, wearing a button down shirt and jeans. As he headed back towards the main tent, someone called his name.

"Jimmy," Eve sighed, leaning against the side of her caravan. "You can't keep breaking hearts like that."

Pausing, Jimmy shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged her statement off. "Who said I broke her heart? That girl needed to know what it felt like."

Eve knew what he meant and in a way, Jimmy was doing these women a service. He was treating them how they all ought to be treated, and she couldn't argue with that. She stepped down onto the grass, closing in the distance between them.

"We're leaving in a week, sweetheart. You know you're going to have to take her home tomorrow." Eve felt like a mother telling her kid that they couldn't keep an animal they'd found. She frowned slightly, reaching out to squeeze Jimmy's shoulder.

"Yeah... yeah, I know."

He chuckled, exhaling through his nose, his gaze falling. He liberated women. Sure, maybe a few tears were shed, a couple marriages shattered in the process, but you can't make an omelette without cracking a few eggs. Jimmy showed women how they were supposed to be treated, how they were supposed to feel every night and once they got the Lobster Boy special, they never settled again. He hoped you wouldn't, either.

You deserved that.

#Jimmy Darling #Jimmy Darling smut #Jimmy Darling x you #Jimmy Darling x reader #ahs freakshow #american horror story #AHS: Freakshow #ahs smut #jimmy darling smut #myfics #x reader #fem reader

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bvidzsoo · 1 year ago

Text

Does he know?

𖤛 Brother's best friend!San 𖤛

TW: none

Word count: 4.9k

A/N: Hii lovelies, got inspired today while listening to some scary Halloween stories, so here's this little drabble (which is not so little lol.)

Oh, you had a bad feeling. When Jongho, your older brother, came barreling inside your room yesterday evening with an excited grin on his face you just sighed, expecting a half fucked up idea about what the two of you should do over the weekend with your parents absent, but he surprised you with the idea of throwing a party, instead. It really didn’t sound bad. Not at all. Not even a little bit. Besides, he said it would be a smaller get together with his closest friends and perhaps a few other guys from his uni class, so you had no problem with that. Plus, it was Halloween. And a little party never killed nobody. But as you stood by your window right now, curtain pulled slightly to the side to be able to peek out, your face was pulled into a distressed grimace.

“No, Yeri, you don’t understand—” Your words rushed out as the phone was pressed against your ear, “the place is flooded. Okay?! It’s not just Jongho’s friends—it’s his whole fucking university!”

Your best friend giggled annoyingly on the other end of the phone, obviously amused by you overreacting over a small party. It wasn’t small at all, alright?! Your parents would kill you if they were to get home earlier. Jongho informed them of the small get together and they had no problems with it—but this?! Jesus, you were in trouble.

“What are you wearing?” Yeri asked excited, probably grinning. She left on a small trip with her family over the weekend, otherwise, she’d be sitting on your bed and teasing you in person about you freaking out.

“That’s not important—” Your breath hitched a little as you watched two motorcycles pull up in front of your house, rolling up your drive way. You were too lazy to park your cabriolet inside the garage, so the motorcycles were forced to park behind your cherry red car.

“Oh—my—God.” You managed to choke out as Choi San, your brother’s best friend, swung his leg over his very new motorcycle and took the helmet off his head. He ruffled his black hair with his fingers, and the strands fell perfectly back in place, just as it was gelled back seconds ago. Your jaw was on the floor as San placed his helmet on the seat of his motorcycle, turning to face his friend, Seonghwa. Your eyes were glued to San’s outfit, muscles on display through the tight fabric hugging his body.

“Y/N?! Hello—” Yeri’s exasperated huffing finally reached your ears, and brain to be honest, as your eyes fixed on San’s black leather pants.

“Yeri, fuck, I’m going to die tonight.” You mumbled into the phone breathless as San adjusted his leather cropped jacket, which was matching his pants. God, you felt like you were drooling. Which you might have been doing, actually.

“You know I can’t see whatever you’re seeing, right?” Yeri’s voice was amused but slightly annoyed and your eyes widened as San turned and glanced up towards you window as if sensing you were ogling him.

“Sorry, yeah, I—” You speedwalked away from your window, hoping San hadn’t seen you, as you started pacing up and down in your spacious room, “Yeri—San—God.”

There was silence on the other side of the line, that is, until loud laughter almost deafened you, “I know you have the hots for San, but seriously—this much?!”

“You’re not seeing him right now, alright?!” Your voice raised as you joined in on Yeri’s laughter.

“Well, go ahead, I’m all ears—but before that! What are you wearing?” Yeri repeated her question and you giggled as you stopped in front of your full body length mirror. Oh well, what you were wearing, despite it being decent in your opinion, would send your brother into an annoyed rant, his overprotective side, making you change into something else in milliseconds. But it was fine, because tonight, he was preoccupied with his friends and would leave you alone. At least that’s what you hoped for.

“Well, I’m wearing that black leather skirt we bought together last month,” The skirt reached mid-thigh and came up to your belly button, “I have fishnets on too, and—I don’t know, mom gave me this crop top long sleeve blouse thingy she used to wear.” The crop top was burgundy and low-cut, wrapping around your breasts snuggly as the collar of it rested nicely around your shoulders and collarbones. Your stomach was bare and as you weren’t used to dressing like this, it made you feel slightly uncomfortable, but Halloween only happened once a year, you’d survive.

“You have to send me a picture!” Yeri demanded and you hummed, looking around for an accessory to complete the look. Your neck felt too bare, perhaps a black choker would do, “What about your hair?”

“Uh,” You huffed as you walked to your dresser, opening your jewelry box on top of it, “I was lazy, so, a messy ponytail will do.”

“I bet you look hot as fuck,” You rolled your eyes as you grabbed your black choker, “And with San there…Jongho better not cockblock you—”

“Yeri.” You sighed and walked back to your mirror, “Just because I’m into San doesn’t mean he’s into me as well, you know…”

Yeri scoffed and you could have sworn she rolled her eyes too, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you—”

“Okay, enough nonsense.” You cut her off, glancing at the clock. It was almost ten and you could hear the guys setting up the music downstairs, “I’m going to hang up now.”

“Send me a picture!” Yeri exclaimed as you hummed and bid her goodbye, placing your phone on the nightstand. You secured the choker around your neck and then grabbed your phone, posing cutely in front of the mirror to send the picture to Yeri. A loud bang coming from down the hallway made you jump as your thumb pressed against the screen of your phone, but you paid it no mind as you hurried to your door and threw it open. You were about to shout at whoever went inside your parents room, but soon enough Mingi’s pink head poked through the door as Yeosang followed after him, carrying your father’s very expensive speaker set. Oh, you were dying dying when your parents returned home. Your sigh was loud as you shook your head at your brother’s friends and it caught their attention and Yeosang looked sheepish, meanwhile Mingi grinned widely.

“Hi, Y/N!” He greeted excitedly and you nodded with a grin which said ‘I have accepted my fate’ before you went back inside your room, closing your door and leaning against it with a groan. God, you were so going to regret this whole Halloween party idea. But Yeri’s supportive compliments about your outfit did cheer you up a bit.

Two hours barely into the party and you were praying your neighbors wouldn’t call the police on you. The house was full of people, and as if you had turned into your mother, you were standing on the stairs, screaming at whoever tried going upstairs, telling them that it was off-limits, and that if you caught them there again, you’d kick them out. Most people, who you had no idea who they were, seemed to know you and would greet you like ‘Hi, Jongho’s sister’, and some would even bring you drinks, which you refused. You couldn’t trust guys, it was sad, but true. You were resting against the railing of the staircase, leaning over and gaping at a couple as they were furiously making out and leaning dangerously close to your mother’s plant, about to shout at them to stop, when your brother’s face blocked your view of them.

“Here you are!” He exclaimed with a wide grin, “Someone told me there’s an angry chick screaming at anyone who tries going upstairs—I just knew it was you.”

You rolled your eyes as Jongho started laughing, which quickly died out, as he squinted his eyes at your outfit, “Isn’t that too—revealing?”

“You can literally only see my abs, Jongho, what’s revealing about that?” You raised your eyebrows unimpressed at him and he shrugged, taking a sip from his red solo cup.

“I don’t know,” He extended his cup to you, “I’m just not used to seeing you dressed like this, I guess. What are you dressed as, anyways?”

You grabbed the cup and brought it up to your nose, scrunching it when you realized he was drinking Vodka, “I’m a vampire without fangs, because I didn’t have enough money to buy some. You?”

“Nothing, I’m the host.” Jongho deadpanned as you gulped down some of your brother’s drink, somehow expecting him to not dress up as anything, even though this was his party.

“Jongho, seriously—” You slightly gagged at the disgusting taste of his drink before handing him back his drink, “the host is the most important person at a party, of course you should be dressed up!”

“Good thing my little sis dressed up in my place too,” He chuckled and nodded his head towards the kitchen, “stop annoying others and come to the kitchen.”

You rolled your eyes but followed your brother, you were starting to get irritated by the many drunken idiots wanting to go upstairs, perhaps a drink would do good. Jongho waited for you at the end of the stairs and once you were by his side he draped an arm around your shoulders, making you give him a pointed look. It wasn’t a foreign action, but he was only doing it right now to keep guys away from you. Not surprising at all. A few people smiled and waved at you as you made your way through the crowd and you smiled back awkwardly, asking Jongho who they were, and him explaining with a laugh. You also scolded him for throwing a huge party instead of a small get together and he smiled sheepishly, saying he only meant to invite a few friends over but word got out and he couldn’t do much about it. You knew he was lying, but remained silent as you walked inside the kitchen with him and realized all of his good friends were here. San included. Fuck. You gulped and made an effort to avoid looking in his direction as he had abandoned his leather jacket somewhere and the black tank top he wore exposed his deliciously buff arms and wide back. Oh, God, you truly wouldn’t survive tonight. Suddenly you missed standing on the stairs and shouting at others to stay away.

“Y/N! Finally!” Yunho, Jongho’s guitarist friend from their band, greeted you cheerily and ran up to you. Jongho released you and went to grab a red cup, pouring some whiskey in it as it was your favorite. You knew Yunho was going to hug you, but you didn’t expect the tackle and your legs dangling in the air as he twirled you around, making you giggle half scared for your life.

“How much have you had to drink?” You asked once he placed you down and he just shrugged, grabbing his own cup off the counter.

“A lot.” He muttered into your ear before he went back to his previous spot, sitting up on the counter, next to the sink. Mingi was busy showing something on his phone to Wooyoung, who waved when Yunho was twirling you around, meanwhile Yeosang was pouring coke into your cup, laughing with Jongho about something. Seonghwa was busy talking to a girl, smiling sweetly and playing with a strand of her hair, meanwhile Hongjoong was squinting and squatting, filling nine little porcelain cups with a pinkish liquid. He was pouring shots for everyone. You stood awkwardly in your own kitchen as you waited for Jongho to finally give you your drink, when you felt someone’s warmth engulfing you from your right. You gulped and screamed at yourself to remain calm and not blush, the musky scent of your brother’s best friend too familiar. Fuck, why did he have to approach you?!

“Hi,” His voice was deep and your body involuntarily shivered, “I bet you’re hating this whole thing.” Of course he knew you’d hate this whole big party thing, why did San have to know you so well? How did he even know, was the better question.

“Uhm—” Why did your jaw have to hang a little open? Seriously, you hated yourself right now. But San’s sharp eyes were rimmed with black eyeliner, making them even sharper as he gazed deeply into your own eyes as if he was trying to reach deep enough to see your soul. Which might’ve as well left your body at the moment, “San, hi. It’s—big. The party, I mean, yeah, it’s too much—whatever.”

What were you even saying? If San wouldn’t have started grinning like an idiot at your nonsense of an answer, you would’ve started crying. You still wanted to cry but Yeosang’s quiet ‘hey’ caught your attention as he stood next to you and San, handing you your red cup.

“Jongho said you’re allowed to drink only one more when you’re finished with this one.” Yeosang handed you the cup as you huffed.

“Yeah, tell Jongho he can shove it up his ass since he said he’d throw a small party and this is everything but small.” San giggled next to you and you swore Heaven was calling you as the sound made tons of butterflies erupt in your stomach. Should you really drink with San here? Whatever, fuck it, you took a big gulp of your drink and smiled at the sweet taste of it. Yeosang and Jongho always knew how to mix your drinks. Yeosang just winked before walking back to Jongho, leaving you standing next to San, feeling awkward again. Now it was because you had no idea what to say to him. Seriously, what could you ask him about at a Halloween party? You took a peek in his direction, and almost jumped when you realized he was already looking at you, but his eyes weren’t on your face but on your body. Specifically, legs. Your whole face flushed and you quickly took another gulp of you drink as you tried not to choke at the thought of San checking you out. What kind of fever dream was this?

“Let me guess,” You heard San saying, and you did choke this time, making Jongho glance your way with his eyes squinting at you, “You’re a vampire?”

Once you managed to calm your coughing, you looked at him, more than sure that your whole face was red, “Yeah, without the fangs…and what are you?”

“Ghost rider, without the fire.” You started giggling, it sounded really awful to your own ears, but it made San smile too and suddenly those damn butterflies were back. You could swear you heard him muttering ‘cute’ to himself, but Wooyoung’s witchy laughter echoed around the kitchen and you looked his way, wondering what was so funny. By the look on Hongjoong’s face it was probably nothing funny, Wooyoung just had a death wish.

“Shut up, idiot.” Hongjoong went to place his palm against Wooyoung’s mouth to shut him up, but he escaped and raced towards you, hiding behind you as he knew Hongjoong quite liked you and wouldn’t try to deck him as long as you’re standing in front of him.

“Can we just drink those shots?” Wooyoung whined from behind you and Hongjoong gave him one last scrutinizing look before he went back to the counter and clapped his hands together.

“Shots are ready!” He grinned and the boys approached the counter, excitement showing in their eyes as they all watched the pink liquid, Mingi leaning close to sniff it before Yunho pulled him backwards and shook his head at his best friend. You were just about to walk over, Hongjoong having made eye contact with you with a smile signaling the ninth cup was for you, when San grabbed your forearm and gently pulled you towards the counter. Your whole body went stiff and you focused on gripping your red cup, afraid that it would slip from your grip. God, why did your legs feel like jelly all of a sudden? He just grabbed you, for fuck’s sake, it wasn’t that serious. He did that to many others, you really needed to get out of your head. Everyone grabbed a shot, San’s grip was still on you and your hand slightly shook as you grabbed your own cup, and then Hongjoong raised his high. Everyone extended theirs, you were struggling a bit as you were further from the group, but San pulled you closer and you positively fell into his side, brain shutting down for a few seconds.

“Cheers!” Everyone shouted loudly but you could only mumble as San turned to face you with the cutest, warmest, sweetest smile of all times before he downed his shot, never breaking eye contact. Oh, for God’s sake you truly were about to pass out as your trembling hand raised to your mouth, throwing the shot back, not quite expecting the sour taste of the pink liquid as you cringed. Hongjoong saw and chuckled, grabbing your empty cup before gathering the other ones too. Jongho had a mischievous glint in his eyes as he clapped his hands together, asking for attention.

“Seonghwa and I made a bonfire in the backyard, everyone’s welcomed to share scary stories for the next hour.” Mingi and Yunho shared a smirk as they raced outside, their tall bodies crashing almost into everyone as they made it a race as to who got there first. Wooyoung’s arm around your shoulder made you jump as he started pulling you after him, San’s grip from your forearm disappearing.

“Wanna tell that story which happened like two weeks ago?” Wooyoung asked excited, pushing the door open for you.

“I’m pretty sure it was just a cat, Wooyoung…” You trailed off, still getting goosebumps from that day. Wooyoung tsked and shook his head as he walked the two of you to the empty log at the bonfire, pushing you down to sit.

“If it truly were a cat, we would’ve seen it, Y/N.” He wasn’t wrong about that, but to be honest, it still freaked you out so you hoped he’d leave you alone. The log wasn’t too big and soon Jongho joined the two of you, handing you a blanket from your parent’s room, you thanked him with a smile. His good friends all made themselves comfortable around the bonfire, a few strangers joining the nine of you as Yunho was the first one to start, with Mingi adding some information here and there, making sound effects with his mouth which only made everyone either laugh or cringe, despite his attempts to make it scary.

You weren’t dressed accordingly for the late October, early November weather, so you quickly left the bonfire, of course, only after Wooyoung told his story and kept you there to vouch for the authenticity of it. You made yourself another drink while you were downstairs and even joined in the dancing in the living room, thankful that Jongho had pushed the sofa aside for more space. You got quickly bored of that too as the played music wasn’t really your thing, so you went back to the stairs and screamed at anyone who wanted to go upstairs. At some point you had to pee as you had finished your second cup of whiskey coke and opted for the bathroom upstairs, scared that you’d walk in on some horny university students in the downstairs bathroom. Jongho would be cleaning that bathroom, not you, that was certain. The upstairs bathroom was just across the stairs so you didn’t have to do much walking, you weren’t drunk, but your legs felt a little jittery and you knew the alcohol would soon kick in. You didn’t drink much, so you knew it wouldn’t be anything serious, but you also felt like changing into your fuzzy pjs and playing some games on your PC before going to sleep. As you washed your hands you nodded to yourself, having agreed to that idea, and left the bathroom quickly. Barely few steps away from the door, you heard footsteps behind you and when you glanced back, two Ghostfaces were charging towards you, making you shriek as you took off down the corridor, slapping their hand away when they reached for your middle. You knew these were just stupid guys playing a prank on you, but those movies have seriously scarred you, and you blamed Jongho for letting you watch it at a fragile age. You yelped again as one of them popped their head next to yours, giggling deeply, making you realize who it was. However, you had no intention of stopping before you reached your room, but as you grabbed the doorknob, you were swept off your feet and twirled around again, making you curse loudly as your head became hazy.

“Jeong Yunho!” You screamed and slapped the arm holding you, “Song Mingi!”

The two boys erupted into laughter and Yunho lowered you as you swung around and punched his middle, making his laughter turn into coughs, making Mingi laugh even louder. But you were soon facing him and trying to punch him too, but he was quick on his feet and dodging your frail attacks skillfully.

“You two are assholes!” You huffed once you realized you couldn’t get Mingi and he just chuckled, pulling the mask off his face, “You know I’m scared shitless of Ghostface!”

“We know.” Mingi giggled as you glared at him before turning around and glaring at the other culprit too. Yunho was still rubbing his stomach, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, mask clutched in his hand.

“Told you it would be funny scaring her.” Yunho told Mingi and you shook your head, flipping the two giants off as you grabbed your doorknob.

“I’ll tell Jongho you two keep bullying me—” You smirked when Mingi’s eyes widened and Yunho stopped looking so amused, “And then I’ll be the one laughing and having fun.”

“Don’t do that!” Mingi whined as you narrowed your eyes at him, but didn’t say anything, just pushed the door to your room open, watching Yunho pout at you before you closed the door in their faces, darkness enveloping you. You sighed and leaned against your door for a second, waiting for your heartbeat to return to its normal rhythm. That didn’t last for long, however, as you turned around and caught glimpse of the dark shadow standing by your desk, making you shriek again and grab your phone off your nightstand. It probably wasn’t a smart weapon of choice, but you chucked it towards the shadow, slightly thankful when they caught it, confirming that it wasn’t an actual ghost. Until it dawned on you that someone was in your room and you were about to bolt, but the lamp on your desk was flicked on. Your mouth dropped open for the nth time as you watched San, who was pressing a hand against his lips to muffle his giggles. That is, until he lowered it and the endearing sound overtook your room, butterflies back in your stomach.

“Yah! Choi San!” You exclaimed, storming over and grabbing your phone from his hand, “That wasn’t funny! I nearly had a heart attack when I realized someone was standing in my room! What if you were a creep?!”

San’s giggles died down as his eyebrows furrowed, the weight of your words getting to him. He had quite the intimidating aura at times, when his face was expressionless and his sharp eyes stared you down, and that’s exactly how he was looking at you right now. You knew him well enough to know he wasn’t scary or mal-intended, but your heart picked up again as you watched him for longer. He became serious all of a sudden. The eyeliner got a little bit smudged under his eyes and it added only depth to his mesmerizing eyes under the golden hue of your lamp.

“I would’ve beaten up the creep then.” You puffed and rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, okay, big boy.” You muttered more to yourself, not taking San too seriously and he seemed offended.

“No, I’m serious!” He exclaimed and approached you, a head taller. You looked up and cursed yourself for blushing, his scent enveloping you. Oh, no, the alcohol was getting to you as your eyes could only focus on his lips. This was bad.

“You know you can seek for my help at all times, Y/N?” Yeah, his words were sweet and comforting, but your eyes took in the redness of his plump lips, the curve of it. How would he taste, was the first question that came to mind and you almost gasped at yourself. Oh, man, were you really this far gone for him? Jongho would’ve choked you out by now if he could read your mind. Damn him and his inhumane strength which he seemed to inherit from your grandpa, that man was lifting the heaviest things at the age of seventy without a care in the world or any consequences.

“Yeah, uh—” Wait, what did San just say? Oh, yes, about going to him when you needed help—wait, what? Really? “That’s—uh—sweet. Yeah, thanks.”

You promised you were better at conversations, but San…San just had this effect on you where your brain turned into mush and suddenly you were just simply dumb. San’s lips pulled into a grin and you forced yourself to keep your eyes on his forehead or eyes, and not on his lips.

“I never got to tell you, but your outfit is cute.” Yeah, screw it, your whole face flamed at the compliment, “It almost made me think you matched me on purpose when you sent me that cute mirror selfie.”

Sent him…what? Matching—who was matching? Oh, the leather skirt and his leather pants, yeah, what a coincidence. Wait—sent him a selfie?!

“I sent you a selfie?!” You exclaimed without meaning to, eyes wide as you watched San take his phone out of his pocket, unlocking his phone. Your days were numbered. You wouldn’t be alive for too long, you have concluded, if he showed you what you feared he was about to show you. No, please don’t be it—you bit your lower lip when San turned his phone around, the selfie you intended to send to Yeri only winking back at you from San’s phone. He chuckled and turned the phone back towards himself, looking at the selfie and shaking his head.

“I figured you sent it by accident,” San spoke up, pocketing his phone, “but I had a flicker of hope in me that it wasn’t an accident, after all.”

“What?” You were gaping at him like a fish, it must’ve looked hilarious, but San didn’t look amused as he stepped closer, his boots hitting yours.

“You’re really cute, you know that?” You shook your head no, on the verge of fainting if San were to compliment you once again, “And I mean that in a…I like you, you’re cute, way.”

Stop. Rewind. Did he…just…say that? I like you?! The longer you looked at him expressionless as a deep flush invaded your cheeks, the longer San had to fight off the need to grab you and kiss you.

“You like me?” You managed to ask once your brain tried to work again.

“Yes.”

“You want to date me kind of like me?”

“Yes.”

“Does Jongho know?”

“He’s the one who encouraged me to go for it.”

“He would never.”

“Okay, maybe he didn’t encourage me—but he never said I wasn’t allowed to pursue his little sister…”

“You’re fucking with me right now, Choi San.”

“No, I’m not.”

Oh, boy, perhaps your body has finally given up as you felt your knees buckle underneath you slightly, but San didn’t notice as you huffed and held the bridge of your nose.

“Are your slaps as painful as Jongho’s?”

“More painful.” You muttered and San pouted, making your heart beat even faster than it already was.

“Fuck, then I hope I never make you mad.” San chuckled and you bit your lower lip.

“Are you asking me out right now?” If he said yes, you would faint.

“Yes.” Fuck. Why was he smiling so cutely at you? Did he want to kill you? Your parents wouldn’t even get the chance to do it at this rate.

“Okay, let’s date.” Your mouth was saying things on its own accord, because your brain stopped working a long time ago.

“I knew you liked me.” San giggled and his arms went around your middle as he pulled you into a hug, pressing his chin on top of your head. Why was he so warm?

“I don’t like you.”

“Mhm.”

Okay, maybe he was right. Okay, he was right. You liked him. Painfully much. And as you hugged him back, you were positive he could hear and feel your heartbeat in your chest by the fervor it was thumping with. Lips pressed against your forehead, and now you were positive you were about to pass out as you cursed silently, making San shake with laughter as heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway outside, headed towards your room. Shit, Jongho was coming.

Masterlist ↭ Halloween Prompts

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nekohime19 · 3 months ago

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Heart behind the lie # 16 : words I can't say

Another therapy session for the monkeys!!

The kid was improving, thought the sage as he watched over his mentee, carefully eying each of his gestures, from the twitch of his muscles to the thrill of his skin. MK was welding the staff naturally, he held it almost effortlessly, as if it was a part of himself, a member he could move at will. Of course, he was still awkward in many aspects, his footwork needed work, and his strikes didn't have enough strength, but he improved greatly since his first lessons.

Sun Wukong never thought he would feel pride for anyone other than himself, but yet, here he was, heart fluttering each time his mentee succeeded in his training. It was gratifying in the loveliest of ways to see someone he cared so much about, someone he trained, he encouraged, improving.

"Good job, bud! That's good, really good!" He wanted to say so much more, but words always seemed to evade him. The kid looked up to him with a blinding smile, his face lightened up by the praises.

"Yeah, I feel like I get the staff stuff better now."

"It was good, you improved a lot."

"Thanks. It's been a long time since we did this." Now that he thought about it, the kid had been pretty busy those last few days. He looked certainly better than at the party, but his sudden packed schedule was quite suspicious in itself.

"You've been pretty busy."

"Hm, yeah, there is quite a lot to do."

"Hm, just don't tire yourself, okay? "Softly asked the King, hoping that his mentee wasn't pushing past his limits. As far as he remembered mortals had always been quite weak, he didn't want his kid to tire himself out.

" Yeah, I'll try." Awkwardly chuckled the kid." Say Monkey King do you think, if you agree, that, with you being there of course, Macaque could potentially, probably, with your agreement, train me a bit?"

"Macaque? Did he agree to train you?" Asked the sage, genuinely surprised by this, he didn't think Macaque would be the type to do this sort of thing, especially considering what happened when he had been MK's mentor.

"Well, I didn't ask, I wanted to talk about it with you first…get your opinion and all, you know." Sun Wukong thought about it, it would be a lie to say he didn't want to see the other again, they didn't cross paths very often since their first therapy sesison at Sandy's. Their talks never went further than a few greetings, and some idle chats. Don't get him wrong, those simple encounters were treasures he deeply cherished, but he would like to see him more, to truly be with him. If it could give him a good excuse to see him, mayhaps this idea was a good one.

"Macaque's opinion is the most important, so I guess we have to ask him."

"Cool! Let's ask him now then!" Happily chirped the kid, the sage flattered a little at that.

"N-now? Isn't it too sudden? We're gonna bother him…"

"Nah, I saw him lounging on a tree before meeting you, he's not doing anything."

"Yeah but I'm… "Sun Wukong looked at himself and scowled. "I'm all sweaty…"

"Well, we just trained, so that's normal."

"That's the problem-"

"Come on Monkey King!" Laughed MK as he rushed out of the water-curtain cave.

"Wait, bud!" Called the sage, he followed after his mentee, running in his steps.

Sun Wukong caught sight of a black tail hidden on top of a particularly large branch, lazily swishing in the morning winds, before his mentee could. His heart leaped out of his chest, and he felt himself still under the tree. MK noticed the black tail a few seconds after and lightened up, he immediately called for the macaque.

"What?" Groggily muttered the warrior, he looked down, his head barely peeking out of the bushy leaves.

"Macaque! We have something to ask you!" Called MK.

"I'm taking a nap?" Replied Macaque, as if this was enough to deter the kid.

"Well now you aren't!" Replied MK.

"You brat." Sighed the ebony monkey, he jumped out of the tree and landed before them with a few leaves tangled in his midnight fur, Sun Wukong hands twitched, dying to dive in the tossed strands and groom them properly. He restrained himself, and crossed his arms behind his head.

"I was wondering if you'd want to train me?" Cheerfully asked the kid. Macaque tensed, he turned towards the sage with a questioning gaze, perhaps waiting for his input.

"I…I'm okay with it if you are."Replied the King." Of course I'll be supervising. Not that I don't trust you, but, well, he's my mentee so I kinda want to know what he's doing and, you know… "

" I don't know… Are you sure it's a good idea?" Quietly muttered the macaque with furrowed eyebrows.

"I want to do it!" Assured the kid, he took the macaque's hands and earnestly dived in his gaze. Macaque tensed, each of his muscles freezing still, but Wukong could see something soft blooming in his eyes, a want, perhaps.

"I… Well, I can't be worse than you." Playfully replied the macaque as he glanced at the sage. Sun Wukong chuckled at that, tearing up a little, it has been a long time since they engaged in spiteless banter.

"How dare you, I'm the greatest mentor." Gasped the sage with false outrage.

"That is still to prove." Retorted the macaque.

"I'm not appreciated for my time." Wailed the King.

MK dragged the warrior towards the water-curtain cave with a skip in his step, Sun Wukong followed them with a smile on his lips. They didn't do anything too taxing, Sun Wukong sat on the side, commenting here and there to guide Macaque (the warrior didn't know MK style and progress that well), they decided to only spar for now, and maybe do more work next time. The sage found it very interesting to see his mentee spar with someone else, he could perceive his shortcomings better from an outside perspective. They stopped after a few hours, laying on the grass next to the sage. Sun Wukong hurried inside of his shack to grab bottles and snacks, and the two sweating monkeys took them with pleasure, thanking him with tired nods.

MK left rather quickly, running away the second he looked at the time, the two eons-old monkeys looked at his retreating form with narrowed eyes, both suspicious and admittedly worried by the kid's odd urgency.

"Do you know something about this?" Asked the macaque with a raised eyebrow.

"No… I don't know why he's so busy as of late…"

"You think it's something bad?" Muttered the warrior, a shadow of a growl imbued in his voice.

"Let's just keep an eye on him." Replied the sage, and Macaque nodded at that.

They sat in silence, tails brushing each other, hearts beating in sync, enjoying the other's presence. Macaque rose after a bit, and even if Wukong wanted to stop him, to keep him at his side, he did nothing, knowing very well he couldn't push his desires onto the other. He had to respect his boundaries, as Macaque respected his by not intruding in his cave when he wasn't here.

"You know we have another session at Sandy’s this evening, right?" Asked the warrior before he could leave the cave, peeking shyly behind his back.

"Yeah, I know, of course, I'd be there." Replied the King as he jumped on his feet.

"Great, I'd be there too. See you later."

"See you." Sighed the sage as he watched him go, staying frozen in his place for a moment, as if he could still feel the other presence, before returning to his shack.

He jumped on his cloud at the first signs of the evening, soaring towards the docks with freshly cleaned clothes. Sandy welcomed him with warmth, like always, and he sat on the right side of the couch, greeting Sock (who was sleeping on the couch) with a few pets. She purred, stretching on herself, showing him her fluffy belly, and he couldn't resist her, he showered her in coos and pets. Macaque arrived while he was babying her, and it was perhaps the most embarrassing thing he lived through this week.

"No really, don't mind me, go on. You were telling her about her “adowable pwetty face”, right?" Snickered the warrior as he sat on the left side of the couch.

"I don't… you saw nothing." Mumbled the King as he straightened slightly, Sock meowed at him, obviously outraged to not be drowned in his undivided attention anymore. He resumed his petting, this time with more dignity.

Sandy served the tea and sat in his comfortable looking chair, in front of the couch.

"So how are you both feeling today?" Gently asked the tea-lover.

"Hm, fine? I trained MK earlier and I was happy about it?" Replied the macaque with slight confusion, perhaps not knowing his own feelings very well.

"I… yeah it was cool of you to do this. I feel okay, I guess. We saw each other a bit more after the first session, I liked that." Added the sage with a furtive glance at the warrior, Macaque flinched at his words, but he didn't seemed uncomfortable, more surprised, mayhaps.

" I see, so you both feel nice. That is wonderful, I'm glad to hear that. Do you both want to do something in particular today or do you want me to guide the both of you?"

"I… if it's allowed, I… wrote some of my feelings towards… my fight with him while he was possessed and I, well I was always more comfortable with writing, and I wanted to share it." Mumbled the warrior as he took out a crumbled piece of paper from his pocket, hands siglthly shaking." You… I mean you can see it too, Sandy, if it helps you to get us or something…"

"Writing is a fine form of communication, if it is what you want to share today, it is perfectly fine. If Mr Wukong wants to see it, of course."

"Yeah, I don't’ see why not." Awkwardly chuckled the sage as he took the piece of paper handed to him. He was quite glad to see it written in ancient Chinese, he was more familiar with this sort of letters, after all. Some part of him softened when he thought of Macaque doing this for him, taking the time to make sure he would understand each word carefully written. He shook his head before he could lose himself in his musing, focusing on the crumble piece of paper in his hand.

“ It is a bit difficult to talk about it without freezing, it is also rather complicated to admit it outloud. But I wanted to tell you, because, after our first session, I realized there is a lot about you I don't know. I assumed a lot about you, maybe because we were once so close I thought I knew you, I assumed everything I thought you felt must be true. But maybe even then I didn't know you that well, the you inside, I mean. So, like me who doesn't know you, I thought that maybe you also had assumptions about what I felt, what I thought, and maybe that's what led to our downfall. Maybe understanding each other, our feelings, our thoughts about our experiences will help us see a larger picture. And I hope that this larger picture can appease us, can give us respite, but I still have doubts about that.

I don't know if sharing this will help you understand me better. Maybe you'll only laugh at me, maybe you'll be disappointed, but I think it is still important for you to know what I thought, to know why I did that.

The Bone Demon is not someone I willingly followed, in hindsight I think I never told you that, I thought it was obvious, but nothing is with us, isn't it? I fled, not willing to work for her. I was always on the move, because I knew her lap dog was always close behind. Maybe it's in those times that I really longed for Flower Fruit Mountain. This place was my home, the only one I ever had, but I kept trying to forget it. Because you were the King of those lands. Some part of me never forgot it, but I kept pushing that part away.

Fighting you, while you were possessed, was bittersweet. It hurt, to see my own shortcomings, my own weaknesses. Calling me a warrior would be laughable, really. I am now wondering if you always pulled your punches with me. I felt like a joke. Like something you could have brushed away years ago, but kept close for entertainment.

I think it is important for you to know that I am not Liu'er Mihou anymore. If, by any chance, you were hoping for those sessions to connect us the way we were connected before, I think it is best that we stop now. Of course, I'm not saying I am an entirely different person, I am Liu'er in some ways, my love for theatrics will never disappear, mind you. But I am not as shy, nor as willing to follow someone, not as admirative of you as I once were. I think it is normal for us to change, and it might be upsetting for you to accept that, but we cannot do anything about that.

I am no longer Liu'er Mihou, as you are no longer Shihou. It was quite upsetting to realize this for me, to accept that you've changed, that you are no longer the impulsive, chaotic King I knew, that you are no longer the kind, stubborn idiot I loved. I'm still struggling to see it. You're different in a lot of ways. But if I am here it is also to discover you anew, it is because I saw that you changed and I want to know that change.

I want to know you. “

Sun Wukong bit his lips, eyes fogged up by tears, throat tight, almost no letting air pass. He didn't know on which feeling to settle. He felt overjoyed that Macaque wanted to know him, that Macaque knew he wasn't the same, that he grew in some ways. But he felt wounded, at the same time, by the anguish he could feel slipping through the paper, by the sadness, the fear, the rage imbued in each word. It teared him to learn that Macaque had longed for Flower Fruit Mountain, and repressed this lounging because of him.

"… thank you for sharing this." Faintly mumbled the sage, he took a deep breath and wiped his tears before they could fall. He put the paper on the table, almost as if it burned him, and took a moment to gather himself. Sandy put his own paper down (apparently Macaque had written one for him, in a more modern Chinese perhaps). The tea-lover waited a bit, probably waiting for him to feel less overwhelmed.

"It is very brave of you, and very helpful to share this Mr Maquawke."

"Y-yeah. Not gonna do it again." Muttered the warrior as he curled on himself, tail shaked by nervous twitch. Sun Wukong was quite glad that they didn't face each other, he didn't think he would be able to talk if Macaque's gaze was on him.

"I… I do not think you're Mihou, I mean, you are, but I do not… see you as him, I know you changed." Carefully mumbled the sage, each word a weight pressing against his mouth. "W-what we had was good. But I know we can't have this again. I'm not… here because I want this again. I just… I want to know you, I want to see you, I want to… I don't really know… I want to see where this goes, I guess. I…" He stopped himself, sorting what he was feeling and trying to make sense of it. He took a sip of his cup, letting the wood-like flavor of the tea untie his throat. "I did know, somehow, that you didn't follow her willingly… It occurred to me these last few days, I didn't have… time to think of it before. But it is nice to know your true feelings on the matter. Because it is true that I would have speculated about it, and gotten it wrong… I think we get a lot of things wrong with each other, I don't know why. Maybe it's because it's easier to lie to yourself rather than confront the truth, especially if you're not sure of the truth, and if it can be bad, truly bad. I… well I talk for myself of course… but I know that sometimes it's easier for me to lie, I'm good at that, lying to myself." The sage sadly chuckled at that. He knew, now that he carefully thought of it, that some part of him decided that Macaque abandoned him under the mountain because it was easier to think that, to think he was the only one suffering, it was easier to hate than to long. Because hating was a way to escape, it was a way to avoid accountability, to avoid the “Is he okay?” and “Did he never like me?” or “Is it my fault?” that plagued him. It was daunting, in a way, to do this, to confront the undoubtable truth, and to be unable to lie, to shy away from it. But he would do it, if he could see past the lies he told himself, the assumptions he took for truth, it would be worth it.

Sun Wukong lowered his head and petted Sock, too ashamed to face the two other people in the room. He knew he shouldn't feel ashamed to admit this, to admit he was lying to himself, but some part of him, the part that was overly conscious of people's gaze, fretted at the idea. He could almost feel the phantom of his circlet pressing against his skin, the punishment for admitting his sin, his lies. Sock broke his somber thoughts, she meowed and nuzzled in his belly, purring loudly to catch his attention.

"I should probably talk about the Bone Demon too, right?" Asked the sage as he scratched the feline head, soothed slightly by her purrs.

"If you want to, you can stop the talk here if you don't feel comfortable." And Sun Wukong knew he wasn't pressured, that they would say nothing of his silence, but he felt guilty to not talk about it when Macaque confided in him so intimately.

"I…I didn't like my fight with you, when I was possessed." Mumbled the King. "I…it…it's not that I was pulling my punches before, it's just that… she pushed me. She was uncaring… of things I care about in a fight." It was hard to explain it properly, the more he talked about the feeling, the more he could sense her chilling claws graze him." I… I couldn't do… anything. I just… she was the one… I could feel you but I wasn't… in control." His breathing became more and more frantic, her words echoing inside of his ears, the promises of pain, of heartbreaks. "I was hers, I-I didn't want to… It’s… I was there, but trapped, inside of me." He closed his eyes, hands stilling over Sock, body entirely frozen. "It's… I always knew she was terrifying but not… n-not like that. I see her, still, at night. I'm…" Everything around him seemed to disappear, his voice refused to come out of his throat, it was like he was trapped all over again. He panicked, trying to open his eyes but failing to do so, trying to move, to feel something, but he remained frozen.

"Stay in the present, concentrate on your breathing." Sandy's voice sounded distorted, as if he was far away. "What you're feeling is scary, but it's not dangerous, okay?" He felt a light touch over his shoulders, something warm and comforting, a grounding weight. Unconsciously he petted Sock, who was softly pawing at his hands. Her purrs echoed in his skin, light thrills that passed through his body, that calmed him." I'm going to count to ten, try to focus on that, to slow your breathing." Sun Wukong nodded, something short and messy, but a sign nonetheless. "1… 2….3…" the sage tried to focus on the number, he breathed in on the odd number, and breathed out on the even. "4…5…6…7…" it was easier to think with a slowed breath, he realized the weight on his shoulders was a blanket. "8…9…10."

The sage slowly opened his eyes, he saw Sandy standing up beside him, and felt Macaque being a little closer, eyes on him.

"I'm…wow, little freak out there, sorry." Awkwardly chuckled the King as he scouted a little further in the couch, widening the distance between him and the others. Sandy took the hint and returned to his chair, Macaque looked at him for a moment, eyebrow furrowed, before returning to the other side of the couch. Sock stayed on his lap, and he was quite glad she did, her warmth was comforting.

"Does this happen often?" Gently asked Sandy.

"… Sometimes, not a lot. I just…usually it's just me and my thoughts so…you know."

"Should I… come see you more often?" Proposed the macaque.

"No!" Yelled the sage, he blushed a bit at his outburst. "I mean… I w-would like it, but you set your boundaries, I don't want you to break them. I can deal with this."

"Wukong I… I mean, yeah, I set boundaries but it doesn't mean I don't want to see you, you know." Sighed the warrior as he let a cat climb his arm and settle on his head. "I'm doing this because I miss you."

"I… yeah, that feels nice to hear, me too. But I don't want to depend on you to deal with this. It didn't go well last time I did that."

"But you're… you're hurting."

"Don't feel guilty about that, it's not your fault." Replied the King as he straightened up and turned towards the warrior, Macaque met his gaze a second, before lowering his eyes.

"A bit."

"No, not for that." Insisted the King as he scouted a little closer. Macaque didn't reply, he bit his lips and turned away.

"What about this… " Interrupted Sandy, Sun Wukong almost forgot he was there. The gentle giant put a phone on his table. "If I am aware, Mister Maquawke has his own phone. And I don't use this one. So I can give it to you Mister King, like that you would be able to communicate with Mister Maquawke, or even me or MK, when you feel alone with your thoughts, or even if you worry and you want to check on them."

"Oh… T-that's really nice of you. But I don't… well I don't have the best grammar."

"You think I don't know that already? "Snickered the warrior, and the King glared at him for that.

"Shut it, I learned to read and all by myself okay. I'm a monkey, I don't need to write."

"I'm a monkey and I can." Retorted the ebony monkey.

"It's different, you enjoy writing. Anyway I… well I can take it but I'm not sure…"

"It's okay. You can do what you want. Also, if you're up to it, maybe Sock can stay with you at your home?" Proposed the tea-lover.

"But I don't know how to take care of a cat…" Mumbled the sage.

"It's okay. I will tell you the basics, and you can always ask me for any urgency with the phone."

"But would she want that?" Asked Sun Wukong as she looked at the cat purring on his lap.

"I think she is pretty comfortable with you. But if you think you can't, then I won't force you." Replied Sandy.

"You always take care of the cubs, you can take care of a cat." Softly added Macaque. Sun Wukong petted Sock and cooed at her cuteness.

"… okay, I can try." Chuckled the King as he lifted Sock and softly nuzzled her. "Hm, you're gonna be stuck with me, little lady." She meowed and pawed at his snout with wonder. "You need a better name though…"

"I think Sock is adorable." Replied Sandy.

"Very fitting." Snickered the warrior.

"Nah… you'll be… Sock the first, the little sage… hm…the Little Sage Of Floof also known as the Lady Above Else."

"That is a lovely name."

"The Little Sage Of Floof! That's gold." Laughed the macaque. "Can't believe a cat will be called the Lady Above Else though."

"Hm, I'll issue a letter to heaven for her titles." Mumbled the King as he booped Sock cute snout, Macaque barked a laugh at that.

Sun Wukong smiled softly, happy to see the other laugh so freely, and hoping it wouldn't be the last time he saw it.

Ch 1 / Previous / Next

#shadowpeach #lmk #lego monkie kid #shadowpeach fanfic #sun wukong #six eared macaque #lmk shadowpeach #lmk macaque #Heart behind the lie

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wishingicouldfly · 7 months ago

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How Books are Published - Some Personal Insight

I have a bit of experience with how the publishing industry works, and I thought some of you might be interested in taking a peek behind the curtain. For the record, I don’t know anything about the veracity of Maya Henry’s novel (Looking Forward) or what she drew from her own life experiences, the quality of her writing, or her individual path to publication. The following is based on my personal knowledge of the industry.

Under the cut for more.

When someone (celeb or otherwise) has a manuscript, generally speaking, they are going to look for the best deal. One of the “Big 5” publishers (or their subsidiaries) are going to be able to offer the biggest advance, the best PR support, etc. While there are reputable publishers that aren’t considered “Big 5” – those smaller entities aren’t going to be able to afford a big advance on royalties. Sometimes publishers will engage in bidding wars to win the opportunity to publish a book that has wide commercial appeal. This would be known publicly, and the deal would be announced with a flourish and a press release.

Even a smaller deal without a bidding war would be announced through Publisher’s Weekly with information about the book, author, and who made the deal (agent), not announced via the authors Instagram account with no information about the publisher or a link on how to pre-order. See examples: Anne Twist’s book announcement on Publisher’s Weekly: Betty and the Mysterious Visitor (publishersweekly.com) and Lottie Tomlinson’s press release for her 7-way bidding war: The Bookseller - Rights - Blink Publishing wins Lottie Tomlinson's 'inspirational' memoir in seven-way auction

For me, it’s telling that Henry’s book appears to be published by a small press (MARS Book Publishing (marsbookspublishing.com) with little to no platform. This is not inherently bad. However, as of May 17, 2024, the website has typos, does not have links to its staff or published works, and both the Instagram and TikTok links on the website lead to accounts with no posts. If you’re a writer, this would be very concerning to say the least. Huge red flag. Even a small press should be able to promote your product. My advice to someone looking to publish a book would be to stay away from this press, as it doesn’t look to be reputable.

That said, if one was going to self-publish, they’d need to have a publisher listed for the business side of things – that’s the way Amazon publishing works. Most self-published authors create a business name for their own published works. Again, this is not inherently bad or wrong, just pulling the curtain back. If you don’t have a book deal with a reputable publisher, then this is the way you can publish your book. From the outside, it appears that there is a publisher attached to the book.

For both traditional and self-published books, authors should have readers prepared with reviews. Currently (as of 5/17/24) there are no reviews on Goodreads, which again, for me, is a flaw if the goal is a longer shelf life and a wider audience.

Ultimately, the quality of the book will be the determining factor. People who read the book will talk about it, recommend it, or not recommend it. Relying on word of mouth, a salacious story, some entertainment magazines interested in a click, and a big-name singer (albeit allegedly fictionalized) attached to the story is certainly helpful to garner interest in a novel. But even on the third day of release (5/17/24) the book isn’t hitting the top marks on Amazon in its selected categories. (Screen shot taken by me on 5/17/24 at 12:06 p.m. ET).

Note: these ratings update and change constantly, this is simply one snapshot in time.

If I were to make an educated guess, the book was shopped around and declined by reputable publishers, leading the author to decide to self-publish. The author created a publishing company name and published via Amazon KDP. In my opinion, it appears to have been done quickly and sloppily, without the amount of professional input it should have had.

Again, I don’t have any first-hand knowledge of this book’s path to publication, so these are educated guesses from personal experience, not personal knowledge of the author’s process.

Not having a deal announced in PW, not having a legitimate publisher website with links to staff and other published works, and not having an author website are all clues to someone wanting to capitalize on something quickly, not someone wanting to take the time to publish with precision.

I don’t have anything against self-publishing, I’ve done it myself. It’s a great way to get a book out if an author doesn't have a book deal and/or the book doesn’t hit traditional niches. However, I think it’s odd for a pseudo-celebrity, with a seemingly compelling story based on life events, to not have a bigger publishing deal with a wider reach.

The reliance on entertainment news outlets for publicity can temporarily raise the interest level; but, not having a book tour, not having books available in bookstores, not having any sort of commercial push for sales will have a detrimental effect on how this book does in the long run, regardless of how many print interviews the author does about her former relationship. Of course, the author could do all of these things at their own expense, so perhaps this is on the horizon.

One last thing to add, a self-published author, with no publishing contract or commitment to a company, has the absolute final decision about everything to do with the book from the content, the packaging, and edits, and the PR.

Self-published books can do quite well in the market, when well written and promoted. I'll be curious to see how this one does.

(For reference, I have professional insight into publishing with Big 5 publishers, smaller independent publishers, educational publishers, and with self-publishing through an independent press).

#book deals #book publishing #Maya Henry #Looking Forward #For Information purposes

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frodo-with-glasses · 1 year ago

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25 Questions with Phil Dragash: YES, SERIOUSLY!

So y'all know how I was reviewing Phil Dragash's audiobook of LotR last year, but kinda fell off somewhere in the middle of Rohan?? Well, guess what! A couple weeks ago, I received a tumblr message from the man himself, saying he'd read through all my reviews, had really enjoyed the little blast from the past, and was open to answering questions if I had any!

So of course, I had LOTS of questions.

The first one being: "Are you actually the real Phil Dragash??"

But I'm delighted to say that after exchanging emails with the work email listed on his website, I can confidently say that it is the real dude, and I've had a blast chatting with him! So for those of you who urged I listen to this audiobook—especially @laurelindorenan for her glowing recommendation—and for everyone else who likes the audiobook and/or enjoyed my reviews: I am delighted to present, ladies and gentlehobbits, this peek behind the curtain!

But of course I'm putting it all below the cut, because this man rambles like I do 🤣

Obligatory disclaimer: All opinions presented by Mr. Dragash are his own, I am not necessarily condoning any of them; please do not come after me for his opinions regarding pineapple on pizza.

25 QUESTIONS, LET'S GO!

1. Tell me how you got into Lord of the Rings!

I was ten years old when my dad took me to the library, and found a VHS copy of Ralph Bakshi’s 1978 animated Lord of the Rings film. I was already a fan of the “Chronicles of Narnia” and my dad just handed the tape to me and said “Look, C.S. Lewis’s friend made this”. I watched it, and had no idea what was going on. It was so hard to understand.

Fast forward to the year 2002 when “Fellowship” was out on DVD, and we had a movie night at my older cousin’s place, and watched the film for the first time. My 13 year old self was enraptured by it. Dad bought the DVD first thing the next day, and I’ve been a fan ever since! I, my brother, and our dad watched “Return of the King” in theaters four times, which was saying something, considering we only ever saw a movie once in cinemas. Between “The Return of the King” opening in December ‘03, I picked up the books and read (as well as I could) through them. A lot of friends kept joking “tell us how the damn story ends!”, good times.

2. When and how did you decide to make this audiobook? What’s the story behind the entire project?

I was a very ambitious lad, and my first and biggest interest was filmmaking. I used to direct short films with my friends ever since my 11th birthday, and was the youngest in class at the filmschool I attended a few years later. So it shouldn’t be a surprise that I had massive ambitions to direct “the Hobbit”, which is silly in retrospect considering I was 16 years old at the time. I even sent my portfolio and DVDs of my films to Peter Jackson’s manager (who actually got back to me with a wonderful response, despite not being able to accept my ‘completely reasonable’ offer) When I was heartbroken and torn to pieces knowing I wouldn’t be directing the movie, a few more years went by, and I decided to reread some chapters of the “Lord of the Rings” books. I remember really well that this was late at night, laying in bed, and going through “King of the Golden Hall” and seeing how close to the movies it was, but also far more expanded. I thought “my extensive home-made short movies experience with sound design and sound mixing could work here, and I could just read a few chapters and try to make the soundscape as realistic as possible. Why not try it?”

So, the next day I tried. The first two chapters I tried were “King of the Golden Hall” and “A Journey in the Dark” (which partly answers your other question about that chapter). I was so absolutely surprised by how well it was going, that I decided to upload them onto YouTube in March 2010 I think. I got a fairly good response, and I was planning on doing a few more random chapters. I never intended to do the whole thing. But this one comment on YouTube I’ll always remember, it said: “I think you should go from start to finish, because you’ll probably get used to the characters and sounds and people can also follow along in the story gradually”.

Taking that suggestion to heart, in August 2010 I went from Chapter 1 onward.

3. Were you inspired by any other audiobook versions of LotR (such as the BBC radio drama)?

I was not, I actually haven’t listened to the BBC Radio drama until far ahead into the project I was doing. I did some research on what other audio productions anyone did with LOTR, from The Mind’s Eye edition, to the ‘60s Hobbit Radio Play; so I felt pretty confident. I just fell in love with the way the films brought Middle-Earth to life and seeing their incredible dedication for authenticity (from the props department, to the music), you really couldn’t do any better than that visually or audibly - at least in my opinion. I just wanted to hear Tolkien’s text but with the realisation of the films.

However, if you listen to Chapter 1 of TTT, and hear how Legolas laments their absence from not being there to help Boromir at Amon Hen, you can clearly hear the inflection from the BBC Radio play’s version. I just lifted that because I thought it was a fantastic way to deliver the line.

4. Did you have any rituals for “getting into character” before recording?

If I were to show you the raw unedited recording sessions, you’d probably be surprised at how underdeveloped it is! I had no real rituals or warmups, I just went for it. Usually went in cold, and tried reading the entire chapter and doing all the voices at once. Then I’d be exhausted, and afterwards start cutting all the mistakes, and separating each character into different tracks – and then re-recording 50%-70% of it, as I was laying in the sounds.

I think any character just needs a few words for me to say in their voice, and that helps for the rest of their dialogue. For Aragorn it was usually: “You cannot wield it! None of us can.” for Pippin it was: “Sometimes”, just random things that make things ‘click’ in my head. If I got lost or didn’t feel like the performances were working, I’d simply just watch scenes from the films to hear the real actors again!

5. Who was your favorite character to voice? Who was your least favorite? And why?

People who know me, know I love doing the villains. Sauron, the orcs, the Nazgûl, etc. I just love the idea of personifying things that scare you. Something completely the opposite of who you are. Always a fun time! Any character I can nail extremely accurately always makes me happy, but I’m always very critical of my own work, so it’s a rare thing.

My least favorite characters to voice are: Imrahil, Denethor, Arwen, Celeborn, Galadriel, Erestor, Lindir, Haldir, Goldberry, Gildor… I think the pattern is pretty obvious if you realize that I am incapable of providing a satisfactory voice that feels unique enough. They just sound to me like “I wish I had a broader range. They weren’t done justice.” I have feelings for most of the characters in this situation, but I’m a mere mortal. I can’t do all of them as well as I wish I could. I wish Aragorn was more like Viggo Mortensen’s voice (I tried with the nasally yells you mentioned!), I wish Gandalf had a richer tone, I wish Saruman sounded more majestic, and I wish Frodo was - in retrospect- more older sounding, too. There’s so much I wish I could do better, but to hell with it, I tried.

Fun fact: my least-favorite to voice are also Orcs because they destroy my throat after a while. Which is ironic, because of my first statement.

6. I noticed that you gave the men of Rohan and Gondor slightly different dialects! Are you pulling from any real-world accents to make that happen?

I did try to listen to Anglo-Saxon, and ancient norse but I just tried to make Rohan and Gondor slightly distinct in any way I could. I never really tried to make things too obvious, but admittedly, I think I just used my intuition (smoothing the R’s for the Rohirrim, making the Gondorians more ‘proper’, etc.). I do want to emphasize that this was a one-person project and keeping things together or consistent is definitely an extraneous exercise when you’re just trying to get something finished by yourself!

7. Some characters (like Beregond and Quickbeam, to name a couple of my favorites) aren’t in the movies, so they don’t have an actor for you to imitate. How did you decide what they would sound like?

Well, in the case of Beregond, I realized he was just “your ordinary guy”, and seeing Minas Tirith through his eyes (and Pippin’s) is such an amazing and interesting opportunity. It made the city feel so real, and I wanted to take advantage of that. I think I started with a ‘generic’ voice, but when I re-recorded him knowing more and more of the context and what he was saying to Pippin, and as a result who he is, made me adjust what I felt were more his personality. But still that ‘ordinary guy’ idea was the bedrock, and it’s been years since I heard that chapter, but I hope it holds up! (I just remembered Bergil is in that too, another voice I wish I could have done better)

Another fun fact: when Pippin scares the kids in Minas Tirith, the audio was from something I videotaped when I was 10 years old with my friends, it had the perfect “kids-going-aaah!” sound.

If I had it my way, I’d have a cast of dozens in this Audiobook, so a lot of times I never felt like my voice was enough to truly capture the “We’re in Middle-Earth, we just have microphones to record it” idea. So I have to make compromises since I was the only one doing the voices. That being said, Quickbeam was a fun surprise because he felt like, as you said “young treebeard”, and these things just worked out through experimentation! I think Quickbeam turned out pretty nice. I like Quickbeam.

8. HOW—I ask with great enthusiasm—DID YOU DO TREEBEARD’S VOICE? How did you get that resonance and woody sound? Did you send your voice through a wooden box and re-record it on the other side like they did in the movies?

It’s really great that you know all the behind the scenes stories from the films! Especially what Ethan Van der Ryn, David Farmer, and the late Michael Hopkins have done with their incredible creativity. I had no such resources to produce Treebeard’s sound. What I did was a digital facsimile: a special ‘room’ reverb, with some other equalizing effects to boost the bass and (maybe, I can’t remember) another higher pitched track of the same voice faintly in there.

You won’t believe this, but I was not going to do The Two Towers audiobook unless I could do a good Treebeard voice. In 2011 after finishing “Fellowship”, I was on the fence about continuing, and only committed once I knew I could do Treebeard right. Treebeard was the key to all this. This should come to no surprise to the ones who played the game, but I used a lot of sound effects from ‘Battle for Middle-Earth’ which contained a lot of clean sounds for ents, trolls, the balrog, the ringwraiths, and other monsters from the films. I used the ent’s footsteps from the games, and recorded my own foley for some of the trees snapping and leaves rustling as well. The “fart” sounds were the low creaking of tree branches, and - as they stated in the making-of for the films - very pitched down cow moos.

9. Tell me about the foley work! Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always been that nerd who watched the Behind The Scenes featurettes for fun, so I’m very interested to hear how you made the sound effects for footsteps and whistling arrows and jangling horse harnesses and such.

I’m glad you are! I’ve collected sound libraries (ripped from video games, and finding and buying sound packs) for a literal decade, because I always needed sounds for the short films I made when I was younger. I just kept learning about how to mix sounds together, and it’s very creative and very enjoyable! That being said, the foley work itself is mostly recorded by me. If I can’t find a sound in the library I have, I will record it. Clothing rustles, and touch are all recorded while I listen to the audiobook playback and ‘perform’ each character. It’s a really arduous process, but I think it adds so much life into the sound.

I went out into the woods (or backyard) with my mic to record footsteps, sometimes I would listen to the audiobook with headphones while performing the footsteps. When I would have traveled somewhere with different terrain I would be sure to record more foley (rocks being moved, or pebbles being stepped on) knowing I’ll use it for certain chapters. I do not want to reveal a huge secret about the predominant foley for the character's clothes, but an old backpack I used were 90% of the characters’ ‘movements’. Some wingflaps of the fell beasts were just my jeans. It’s a really creative process trying to find things that ‘sound’ right for an environment or action. The magic is putting them all together and hearing the result. Also, yes Sam’s pan is my grandma’s frying pan, and I know it’s sometimes annoying, but - look - Sam has a lot of stuff to carry.

I start with the background sounds (wind, tree rustles, water if there is any, etc.) lots of layers of them just to make them sound unique and not the same. Then I move to selective and nearer environmental background sounds. Then, the ‘hero’ sounds, the effects that are integral to the story (if it’s sword clashes, or an explosion, or who knows what), and finally the foley (footsteps, clothing rustles, breaths, etc.) - I had a friend record her own horses breathing and moving for a lot of closeups of the horses in the audiobooks. I think even if you can’t really hear some of their low breaths, their presence is still ‘there’. I personally think I got a lot better by the end of LOTR than when I started!

I wanted to add, the sounds for little Elanor in the very last scene of “The Return of the King” (the baby sounds), I was not happy with the stock baby sounds I had, and asked my older cousin (an audio person too!) to send me recordings he made of his then-1-year-old daughter in a studio. So, my first-cousin-once-removed is Elanor! She’s 22 now. I feel old.

10. Do you have a favorite sound effect from this project? Mine is the “pat-pat” against cloth that’s used to denote a hug.

Absolutely, do you remember the two “watchers” before the tower of Cirith Ungol? The vulture-like statues that block the hobbit’s path out? The alarm sound is a wholly original sound design I did, and I’m really happy with it. It’s just ugly sounding, and that’s the point. I always wished I had more Nazgul, and I think the worst moments I had with mixing were the battle scenes. There’s just too much to handle and make it sound good. But I really tried.

I’m very glad you heard the ‘pat-pat’s. I try my best to perform every character when recording foley, and want even some of the sounds to convey something in the telling of the story.

11. What's the thought process behind your use of the various musical motifs from Howard Shore's score? (Read: Why do you use the Shire theme so often, and why does it get me in the heart every single time?)

I want everyone to know that this is a really important and valuable question, and one I never really get to talk about: To me, Howard Shore’s music is one of the very best things to come out of the films. He truly made an opera out of the story, and all his leitmotifs and orchestrations are a stroke of genius. They work on their own, and when reading the books as well, and as a nerd for films and all that stuff, I wanted to put a lot of care into how I’m placing the score, and for what scene, emotionally and leitmotivically, if that’s a word.

The Audiobook I did is obviously a ‘standing on the shoulders of giants’ situation, so I can’t credit myself for the majority of the Audiobook I did, but I wanted to use all my filmmaking intuition to properly use the music to enhance the telling of the story. So, just like the filmmakers had to change and mix lines from the book, or make changes to make it work as a film, I felt like a lot of instances happened with the music for the audiobook. Obviously, I used the score when applicable to the intended scenes, but there are very often cases where they won’t work. I read as much as I could in the past about what the motifs were and where Shore used them in the movies, so I followed that trajectory for the most part. Gondor is Gondor, Rohan is Rohan, Mordor is Mordor, etc.

Changes happen when I feel the emotions for a scene in the books do not match up to the ones in the films, and then there are brand new scenes and characters not in the movies at all, that I have to figure out! Take the pause from music between Gandalf falling into the chasm with the Balrog, and the fellowship successfully escaping. It’s perfect in the film, but I knew I couldn’t put the lamenting heartbreaking music in there yet, since the descriptions all drive the idea that escape is paramount. So I treated it as a ‘shock’ moment. No music until they’re completely out of the mountain, then the grief comes in. Things like that, a lot of fun creative thinking to get those emotions working!

I recall you mentioning the ‘Gimli / Legolas drinking game’ statement and how I used the hell out of it throughout the Audiobook, which is a good example. I pitched it up and down, for different moments, and it just has that hobbit mundane and jolly quality to it. So, in it goes to fill moments from the books.

I also edited and modified existing motifs for completely different scenes and ideas. One of my favorites is when Treebeard talks about the Entwives. I needed this melancholy yearning sound that was really essential, and found it by reversing Eowyn’s theme, and pitching it down so the violin sounds like a cello/bass. To me it just felt extremely appropriate for the sound of a long-lost relationship while portraying a larger-than-life creature.

Let’s also say Bombadil. I made up the idea that the last statement in the credits for “Return of the King”, was Bombadil’s theme. It’s actually just a reference to Der Ring des Nibelungen by Wagner, a very verbose beautiful crescendo, but I thought “I’ll pretend like it’s Bombadil, he’s last in the score even though he’s the first in Arda”. So I used that musical progression in his songs, that’s his leitmotif now (to me, anyway) He sings in that wavy up-and-down melody. Which is why you hear a lot of that in those chapters.

I also try to use recordings not from the original score: I looked far and wide for alternative recordings, predominantly the album by the Royal Prague Philharmonic, and the “LOTR Symphony”, just to make the Audiobooks feel different. I pitched down and moved and reassembled a lot of different cues for different scenes as well.

There are not a lot of instances of music from other movies, however, they do exist! I used music from “Battle for Middle-Earth”, the game “War in the North”, and for the last few chapters, “The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey” since it just came out at the time. I used a lot of music from Howard Shore’s “Seven” and “The Game” during Shelob (I think), and for the Barrow-Downs. I used a tiny bit of underscore from the brilliant Don Davis’s “The Matrix Reloaded”, it had a really eerie choir which made me feel like it would be perfect for the fatigue and dizzying unreality of Mordor when Sam and Frodo were on their last leg, trying to get to Mt. Doom. Lastly, I used a little bit of music from Howard Shore’s “Twilight: Eclipse” for some dialogue scenes during Return of the King! And music from the independent film “Mongol” by Tuomas Kantelinen for the Woses when Theoden has to get help from Ghan-Buri-Ghan. Also the ending of ROTK has a few cues from “The Lord of the Rings musical”, lovely stuff.

It may surprise you that there is a small amount of score I actually ‘wrote’ with help from my brother (he’s a musician). It’s in the coronation of Elessar. It’s not very good but I needed something. There is also a cello version of “to the edge of night”, which I kindly asked permission to use by YouTube celloist, but I sadly don't think that video is up anymore.

Lastly, I use the Shire music so much because - just like Howard Shore said - it becomes a ‘hymn’ or an ‘anthem’ for the hobbits as they leave their comforts behind and are in a wide and unfamiliar world. Every little bit that reminds them of home, or relates to each of them, usually deserves a little ‘shire’ statement here and there. I feel if it’s in the characters’ hearts and minds, it has to be expressed in the music!

12. Out of all the chapters I’ve listened to so far on the Internet Archive, “A Journey in the Dark” is the one most plagued with editing issues; Sam’s temper tantrum over leaving Bill the Pony is cut out entirely. Which is a shame, because I was really looking forward to hearing your take on that. (Is it strange to say that I wanted to hear you break down into blubbering tears? Probably. Let’s ignore that and move on.) Is there any chance that you have a cleaner edit of that chapter somewhere?

I think you’ll be very unsurprised to know that “A Journey in the Dark” is the first chapter I ever recorded. I think you’ll also need to know that I did FOTR when I was 21 years old, and my grasp on doing better sound mixing or even getting the characters right was still a work in progress. I learned so much going chapter-by-chapter and felt that each succeeding one improves from the former. As a demo-run, I did “King of the Golden Hall '' and “Journey in the Dark” in early 2010 (in fact, I did only the first half of “JITD” back then. Stopping right after they are barred inside the mines, as the Watcher destroys the gate. I did the second half once I caught up with the story going chapter-by-chapter.)

There are so many issues with it, and I haven’t listened to it since. If you have headphones you’ll also notice that none of the voices really pan from left to right, or feel like they’re ever anywhere else except the dead-center. I was lazy back then.

When I read the chapters, at the time, I was sharing an ‘office room’ with my younger brother, and as a teenaged younger brother does - continues strumming his guitar no matter what the other brother is doing. It was really fun, and funny and I was extremely sloppy with editing things out, and taking it too seriously. So, for sure you can hear ‘someone’ in the background during the early parts of FOTR, and I was too lazy to re-record or edit out the noises that weren’t supposed to be there.

Forgive me if this part is a lot longer, but now that you mention it, I want to get on my soap-box and rant about how many things I agree with about the Audiobook’s shortcomings and how many things have changed since the wee days of 2010:

I didn’t really get a grasp on the characters, and I had no idea I was going to do the entire book. I did not take enough care with sound mixing (it’s a highly technical and rigorous practice, I’ve discovered. Even now, ten plus years later - it’s too technical for me to fully understand yet), and I did not thoroughly re-listen to the chapter when I was done with an edit or a sound-effects pass. Therefore there’s always been mistakes still in there, and just unpleasantly careless placement of sounds and music. I have often thought about re-recording it to get it up to scratch, but it’s been over a decade and I haven’t properly preserved all the sound stems without having to re-sound-mix the whole chapter again, and there is that little thing called ‘burnout’ which is hard to ignore. So, I apologize to everyone who has to suffer through that huge drop in quality with “A Journey in the Dark”. It quite literally was my first attempt, and it definitely shows.

The good news is that a fan asked me the same thing about the missing piece in that chapter (the one you mentioned! With Sam and Bill!), and I’ve heard the same comments about it throughout the years. Why is it missing? I don’t know why! I recorded it, but in my loose run-and-gun past when I was a wee lad, I was careless, and just had the mp3 with that part missing. A rendering error, perhaps! Stupid 21 year old Phil just hodgepoging everything.

A Few months ago, I did get another email about that missing piece. I thought “okay, once and for all, I’m going to find that missing part.” - and I searched my old harddrives for some kind of archival copy with that part in it. Amazingly, it was a lot harder to find than I thought. Every rendered version of JITD either stopped right before that scene, or had it omitted. I actually found one half of it as a ‘demo’ piece I rendered years ago for a ‘sound trailer’, and then I finally found the original YouTube video I made - which had it intact! Now the hardest part was stitching it together with the rest. Took longer than I thought, but I finally amended this horrible incompetence. And yes, I will share the link to you! And be prepared to be disappointed at the 2010-era quality!

I don’t know if anyone knows this, but with the mp3s circling around, I have taken the liberty of re-recording and re-working some chapters from their original versions. I try my best to preserve the originals, but I also wish people to listen to the re-records. I have actually re-recorded and re-mastered “A Long-Expected Party” three times. 2011, 2013, and 2014. I re-recorded “King of the Golden Hall” in 2013, and “Shadow of the Past” in 2014. I usually try labelling the dates on the mp3 files themselves. The one I’m most proud of re-recording bits of, is “The Pyre of Denethor” as the first time I had Denethor say his last words he was mildly raising his voice, but I listened to it again one day and went “this man should be at the edge of sanity.” - so he absolutely yells now, and it’s such a night-and-day comparison.

Another addendum: I completely understand the complaints about ‘the sound/music drowning out the dialogue’. It’s been the #1 complaint over the decade. I completely understand. I never had professional sound mixing gear, nor did I have proper mixing headphones or speakers or a proper studio (most of the audiobook was recorded at my grandmother’s house!). The balance of the audio making it sound immersive, (like you are there!) and having clear dialogue to hear is - like I said - an extremely technical and complex process that I’ve never had the ability or tech to master. Let alone for a book that’s 48 hours long, and has so much sound and music to it. Nothing would bring me more joy than to work with an experienced sound mixer, and find all my audio stems, and for us to work together to clear up any and all issues. But as this project was a simple fan-made work, and I haven’t distributed it myself for a decade, who knows?

This is also why I never went on to do “The Hobbit”. Burnout is real, and I’ve never recovered from LOTR. The burnout… “it’s never really healed, Sam.”

13. What was your favorite scene to record and mix?

Mount Doom. Can’t get better than trying to make the climax as horrible and eucatastrophic as that. It all led up to this, and it was such a rush to work on. I remember how I was at the edge of my seat watching ROTK in cinemas for the first time, and how amazingly they pulled it off, and I wanted to definitely imitate that, but using Tolkien’s own writing. Just so cool.

I have two favorite chapters: The first one is “The Scouring of the Shire”. I remember well, when I was working on it, I realized this has never been ‘dramatized’ before. At least not in full. I felt so special being the first one (probably) to do it. I could imagine the entire chapter in my head like a film, and I could bring it to life with very little outside influence. Such a poignant and shocking chapter.

I don’t think I would have done it as well without the experience I gained doing the rest of the Audiobook. Showing the strength of the four hobbits, portraying the dignity and resolve of their kind, giving that pathetic yet dangerous authenticity to Sharkey, and the ruffians, illustrating the battle of bywater with sound… this was done in 2013, so we all were able to listen to new music by Howard Shore (for The Hobbit), and I would be able to transpose motifs from that, into “Scouring”, and honestly I wouldn’t know how it would have worked out if the Hobbit films didn’t come out just at the right time. I think the score fits so well with the events of “Scouring”, there is a ‘mordor’ theme but it feels ‘unfinished’, like the remnant of an old defeated foe; there’s that wily progression for Radagast in the films, that I used for the hobbit’s rebellion and the conflict, and there’s a new ‘hobbit/shire’ motif that worked so perfectly for a ‘wounded, but recovering’ Shire. I feel so silly talking about decisions I made for this, but I always wanted to share some thoughts I had!

Fun fact: I had a wonderful person ask if she would be able to play Rosie Cotton back in 2013, and I asked her to perform her lines. She was great, but I realized a very strange thing: when I put her in the audio mix, it would actually break the immersion, because you can hear a voice that wasn’t mine, and as a result - I couldn’t help but keep thinking - my voice for Rosie’s mother sounded like a Monty Python skit in comparison! And thus her lines had to be unused. It kind of just opened the fourth wall, breaking the illusion. Which is a shame, because I always dream of having a fully-cast LOTR Audiobook, maybe someday officially.

The other favorite is “The Tower of Cirith Ungol” just because I listened to it one day in 2014, and heard no errors. I was so proud. I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to change substantially. No one dislikes all the errors more than I do!

14. What’s your best memory from this entire project?

My late dad drove me and my brother out into a clearing at midnight in the forest. The sky was so clear and starry. And we were here simply to just yell at the top of our lungs to record material for “Helm’s Deep”. All the clear yells: “Elendil!!!” “Gúthwinë! Gúthwinë For the Mark!”etc. Etc. - I lost my voice, it was a fun time. He held the microphone for me as I splashed around a stream (for Gollum), once again at midnight since there were fewer background sounds.

I also tell this story a lot: A friend of mine who was listening to the chapters as I finished them - she hated the sound of knuckles cracking. And hated spiders. So, obviously, Shelob would have to have knuckle-cracking sounds for her limbs. So I recorded my own knuckles cracking and tried using it as much as I could for Shelob’s legs moving about. My friend was soooo ecstatic to know this fact.

15. If you could do it all again today, what would you change?

I would consider doing a ground-up re-recording of everything. With a budget, with a cast, with a lot more understanding of the story and intentions behind them. With VR sound options. With extra original music. That’s the dream.

If we’re back to reality, I guess I’d just re-record a bunch of chapters since they could always be better, and tighten all the technical errors. But that would require a lot of assembling of the raw archived files, and re-building of sounds, and re-recording of lines. Also, as I stated before, I do not want to distribute my unofficial fan work just because I know that it’s a copyright nightmare. And burnout… “it’s never really healed, Sam.”

I like taking other people’s opinions to heart, such as the issues with Frodo’s youth or inflections and intonations for certain scenes that I didn’t quite fully grasp the first time. I would love to adjust things and make it closer to the book now.

- - - - -

And now! The Silly Questions Lightning Round!

(With thoughts from Lady Glasses in parentheses and italics!)

1. In Fellowship, long stretches of dialogue would often have someone randomly cough in the background. Tell me about the Cough. Why is the Cough there?

No one hates the coughs more than me. That’s either my brother minding his own business in the other end of our ‘office room’. I think you now know I was 21, I didn’t care, so these things are just left in because I was careless. However, sometimes there are intentional coughs to make it feel more realistic. It’s been years since I listened to it, so unless I somehow do a massive commentary stream someday (thinking about it), your guess will be as good as mine! The coughs heavily subsided once I did Two Towers, since I was by myself.

2. During the dinner scene with Farmer Cotton, someone burps. Who was that?

Mine. I have no regrets with that one. Or Pippin. I guess it could be Pippin.

(Darn! And here I thought it was Farmer Cotton, LOL)

3. How did you manage to make Bill Ferny’s voice so perfectly obnoxious?

I imagined Bill as an obnoxious guy. The image in my head gives me a good idea of what he’d sound like, and I’m so glad he’s so obnoxious that you had to mention it.

(He sounds perfectly punchable. Thanks, I hate it.)

4. Did you crack yourself up at any point in the recording?

Oh yes, in fact I have a whole outtake reel just for you!

(Warning to anyone who clicks the link: the April Fool's audio had me ON THE FLOOR)

5. Voice acting aside, who is your favorite character in LotR and why?

If you asked me in 2002 it would be the Balrog, if you asked me now it would be difficult because so many of them mean so much to me, and each of their aspects have something to aspire to. Gandalf, Aragorn, Sam, Frodo, Galadriel, the list goes on and on.

(That's beautiful, and so true. The story really grows with us, doesn't it?)

6. What’s your favorite color?

Blue. Always has been.

(Blue is a good color! 💙)

7. Political question: Pineapples on pizza, yes or no?

Yes, I still don’t get what the fuss is about

(Oooh, controversial)

8. Is a hotdog a sandwich?

No, it’s a hotdog!

(Counterpoint: A hotdog is a taco.)

9. What’s your opinion on geese?

They’re racist

(Racist against the entire human race, apparently)

10. How much would I have to pay you to say “I love boats!” in Merry’s voice? (It’s an inside joke with my friends.)

Nothing, it’s on the house!

(HOLY CRAP I LOVE YOU)

- - - - -

Thank you so much for taking the time to chat with us! What are you working on nowadays?

I’ve actually had a few people ask me if I’ll ever do more audiobooks like this, and I seem to have tapped something. Yes, in fact! I’m working with a few creative collaborators on a small company to do the exact same sonic experience with other books! Since we’re very small, we are starting with stories in the Public Domain, and have successfully kickstarted (and finished) “The Jungle Book” by Rudyard Kipling. Which will be out (hopefully, officially) by early September! I’m really excited and hope this will lead to more projects, and - hopefully- back to Tolkien someday, in an official manner. Please follow my Instagram or Facebook for more info about it. (I also have a Twitter and Tumblr and more, but they’re all completely unrelated to LOTR and are just me drawing doodles and being a nerd, very unlike the Audiobooks I did, which is a bit confusing, I admit.)

- - - - -

And that concludes our interview! As I told Phil, it was so much fun to discuss a fellow fan's passion project like this. The more I read about it, the more I realized just how similar it was to my own experiences as a fan creator. We all start out as just a noob with a few unpolished skills, making something because we love it, and we learn and grow and hone our talents along the way. It's legitimately inspiring.

Needless to say, I am stoked to finish listening to the rest of this audiobook! Is it a bit weird knowing the creator of the thing might drop in and read my reviews?? Yes. Yes it is. But I'm gonna do it anyway. No holds barred! If I hear another cough, you're gonna know about it, Phil!

Also I may or may not do something with that audio of Merry because I'M STILL DYING OF LAUGHTER HELP

Anyway! If you made it to the end of this, you deserve a cookie! Everybody say thank you to Mr. Dragash, and go check out the other stuff he's doing nowadays! Namárië!

#phil dragash #audiobook #lotr audiobook #interview #CATCH ME SCREAMING ABOUT THIS FOR THE NEXT TWO WEEKS

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herarcadewasteland · 1 year ago

Text

Spin, Dare, Hide: The Chase

A/N: im not very happy with the ending but i decided against smut. felt a little weird given the situation so its just slight violence and a pretty dull end in my opinion

-18+, slight violence, swearing, jisung is a little shit, ateez kinda yandere

-ateez x reader, mentions of skz because Han Jisung is your bff

2 of 2, part 1 here

-------

previously:

Hearing none, just a slight shuffle you were sure you made, you opened your eyes just in time to see his large hand twisting the cold water tap for the shower. You gasped at his hand, his dark eyes peeking around the curtain just as ice cold water poured down onto you from above, your eyes closing as you shrieked at the cold, hands raising to try and block some of the stream. They were soon tugged down though, a new face hovering above yours as you thrashed about in the tub, heart racing as you glanced up.

-----

“It’s so cold! Please! Let me out!”, you cried to Seonghwa, Wooyoung’s gaze heavy as he held you to the bottom of the filling tub, cold water splashing onto them as they watched with indifference.

A simple throat clearing had the water stopping, both men pulling you from the tub as you coughed and shivered violently in their grasp. Your hair clung to your forehead as you made eye contact with Hongjoong, his smirk nothing short of the same evil he displayed when the bottle landed on him first. Now you were at his mercy fully, all of them had control over you as per the rules. Knowing your kinks made it all the more eventful for their plans, the mischief floating behind the danger sending you in a spiral of lust and panic as the fear settled in your chest.

“We’ve waited so long for this, bunny. We’re all so excited to play with you now.”, his giggle was as concerning as it was arousing, his eyes steady on yours while you trembled in front of him, “I can sense your terror, bunny. It’s…”

He paused, taking a long breath through his nose, the two holding you upright laughing menacingly as the smirk grew darker on their captain's face.

“Addicting.”

Your blood ran colder than the shower, your eyes brimming with tears as Wooyoung dragged you forward and out of the washroom while Seonghwa hummed a tune that you would describe as a horror movie soundtrack before a jumpscare. It truly felt like a jumpscare when suddenly you were downstairs, 5 sets of other eyes on you as you were pushed into the room.

“She couldn’t hide well enough after Hwa~”, Wooyoung mocked you with a pout as you crossed your arms over your chest, body trembling as San approached you slowly like you would a wounded, scared animal.

“Is the poor princess soaked? You know what would dry you off?”, he shared a look with one of the men behind your shaking frame, “running.”

You shook your head rapidly, mind racing as you thought over what he could mean before you were nudged towards the open doors further in the room that led to the forest on the property. Your eyes widened and you whimpered, pushing back against the hand on your chilled back.

“NO-”, you pushed back against the hand harder, “please no- anything but that! I’ll be good for you!”

Your tears overflowed as you put everything on pause with your promise of good behaviour, eyes trained on you with a different intensity.

“How good are you willing to be for us, doll?”

Jongho posed the question, Yeosang coming to stand in front of you, his large hands on your cheeks to ensure you showed no dishonesty in your answer as you sighed heavily.

“As good as you want me to be…”, your voice was a whisper but the anticipating silence allowed it to reach the ears of the boys, their responding approval setting a small spark alight in your tummy as you trembled from the cold.

A deep voice in your ear made you jump slightly in Yeosangs’ hold, his eyes dark but kind as you held his gaze.

“Good girl. I knew you would make the right choice. None of us would have liked to punish you for denying us what’s ours, after all.”

You nodded once, eyes darting between them before you settled on Jongho. His eyes seemed gentler than his elders, the small manic glint being hidden perfectly as he caught your gaze. Your eyes clearing of tears just enough to reach out in his direction, seeking comfort as you shivered. The hand coming back to push you towards the man who accepted you in his arms with a small smile, his body warmth raising goosebumps over your skin as you caught your breath past the chill in the air.

As you fully calmed, body warmer and no longer shaking, you noticed how they all watched you carefully, that knife back in Seonghwa’s pretty hand while he stared you down. It was a dare. A challenge. Displease me, it screamed. You couldn’t decide what would be the better fate, running outside in the middle of the night and into a forest while being chased by eight men you had felt safe around for many years, or face Seonghwa and his knife as the others watched.

The choice was made for you swiftly as San gripped your arm, pulling you from the heat source you had found in Jongho, his eyes glinting as you were dragged into San’s hold.

“Remember the kindness we just showed you before you get any funny ideas out there~”, He whispered in your ear, his soft lips brushing your ear as you shivered in fear once again.

“Now, now, Sannie. We haven’t told her the new rules to our game.”, Hongjoong stepped forward, a hand on San’s shoulder as he made his way to your front.

His gaze traced over your exposed skin heavily, the lust clouding his eyes being displayed almost proudly as his hand left San’s shoulder to rest on yours. A slight massage was his treat to you as you held eye contact when he made it after he had had his fill of eye-fucking you.

“Our rules are simple. You run, your time out there alone is limited to five minutes so run well. We follow when those five minutes are over. When we catch you, you get a little hurt because, well, you ran away from us didn't you?”, he laughed at your confused expression, his own darkening as he leaned forward so his lips nearly touched yours as he whispered his next words, “We don’t appreciate watching you leave us in such a rush. It has to be punished somehow, don’t you think?”

The smirk he wore was killer as he leaned away from your lips, his pretty eyes dark with the predatory gleam you saw before the game started and in the bathroom. San’s hand was on your jaw, your head being moved in a nod despite your clear resistance. A smirk shot at San before Hongjoong was focused on you again, his eyes slightly wild with emotions as he clicked his tongue.

“We chase you until we find you. And then we use you. Mhm. You’d like that though, wouldn’t you? Being passed around like a toy for eight men who you tossed in the friend-zone for so many years without another thought. I know you would. We all know how badly you want to be used like a dumb little doll for someone capable.”, his lips found your ear, San’s smirk on your neck where he had attached his lips sending chills down your spine at the sudden stimulation, “We are all more than capable of handling a dumb doll. I would suggest you don’t test our limits with your petty little attitude. It won’t be fun… for you~”

A throat clearing had him pulling away, his hands leaving you to San’s wandering ones.

“The only other rule? You… cannot hurt us. No rocks, booby traps or long sticks to whack us with. You hurt us, we hurt you more. Simple rules honestly.”, his tone was flippant as San nudged you towards the open doors.

Hums of agreement followed the end of Hongjoong’s speech, your eyes tracing over each man again to gather some, any small amount, of information on how each would be in the woods as they chased you down. You assumed Seonghwa would wait for you to get tired, pouncing when you’re down. Hongjoong seemed to be the type to hunt you tirelessly, searching every tree for your shadow. Yunho was unreadable when you met his eyes, a sort of guarded look coming over them. Yeosang seemed the most predictable in your head, calm walking, taunts called out to you as you trembled behind a tree. San, to you, as he pushed you to the door seemed like he would also stop at no end to get you, setting small traps or corralling you in the direction he wanted you.

Mingi was… more difficult to read when you met his eyes. He just radiated excitement and nerves as he held your gaze. You gave up on trying to figure him out, your gaze catching on Wooyoung who stood with his arms crossed behind San, a smirk on his lips as he licked over them with a slight tilt to his head. Wooyoung was… terrifying for you. The way he watched your every move, focusing in on every slight tremble he caught with a nearly mocking smirk, the look in his eyes the longer he watched you. You could only take a wild guess and assume he would somehow know exactly where you were at all times.

San’s hand nudged you further forwards, your feet out the door. You made frantic eye contact with Jongho who watched you with no expression on his features, a slight quirk to his lips the only inclination you got as to him noticing your eyes on him. He seemed like the least likely to put in too much effort, possibly a combination of Yeosang and San. You had no more time to ponder as San shoved you forwards roughly, your knees buckling slightly and causing you to stumble into the slight light of the moon. The pale shine hid your sight of the boys, but judging by the gasps that reached you when you turned to face them, the lighting was doing you favors despite the fear you felt as your heartbeat against your chest.

“Go on, pet. Time to run.”, Seonghwa’s voice brushed past your ears like the breeze, the moonlight fading enough for you to make out their figures in the doorway, stood shoulder to shoulder as they watched you back away slowly.

Even in your fear you couldn’t deny the beauty they radiated from the doorway as the moon shone down on them, their features illuminated and hair shining. They looked angelic with their hands in their pockets, loose clothes flying around them just slightly, billowing and accentuating the fluff to their hair.

The only thing that distracted you from the evangelical sight before you was the illuminated darkness in their eyes as they watched you, unblinking. A smirk from Wooyoung let you know that they knew how good they looked at that moment. That same smirk shook you from your thoughts, your legs carrying you backwards a little faster until you turned and booked it towards the trees.

“Five minutes, pet!”, Seonghwa called after you as your footsteps echoed across the stone of the patio, “Run while you can~!”

And run you did. You ran until you could no longer see the lights of the house, couldn’t feel their harsh gazes on your back despite the trees blocking you from view. The branches stung as they cut into your skin, small beads of blood trickling down your heated cheek from the cut on your cheekbone as you smacked others out of the way to avoid more injury before they came after you.

Your eyes slowly adjusted as you ran, anticipating the fallen log ahead of you, you prepared yourself to jump it. Your breaths came a little harsher as your mind focused on getting over that log with no difficulty, you forgot about the eight boys ready to prance after you.

“Oh bunny~!”, Jongho’s voice echoed through the trees, every noise seeming to stop as branches snapped in the distance, “It’s time to play!”

Your focus was removed from the jump, your feet catching the edge of the log and sending you tumbling across the forest floor. Leaves stuck to you in small smudges of mud, your cuts stinging from the touch of the same mud as you rolled to a stop a few feet away. A large sigh left you as you sat up, your hands picking out leaves from your hair when you felt your ankle twinge.

Of course you had to go and disable yourself slightly for one of the most important situations you had ever faced. It felt like life or death for you as you heard distant laughs shared between your hunters, a faint humming reaching your ears a little closer than the laughs. You could only think about how bad it would be if Seonghwa caught you in the darkness of the woods, that knife glinting tauntingly in the moonlight through the trees as you stumbled onto your feet, ignoring the pain in your leg as you ran further.

You had no idea where you were in the expanse of trees, the area foreign and confusing to you like a corn maze that had no actual way out. It made your adrenaline pump, your eyes scanning every shadow as you crept your way towards a decently sized tree. It wasn’t in the rules that you couldn’t climb a tree and wait them out as long as you could while they searched the forest floor for your tired body.

You took a few ragged breaths as you slowed to a stop in front of the tree, a snap to your left causing your head to snap that way in search of a figure to go with the noise. You found nothing but the barely lit trees in your search, hands trembling as you reached for the thickest branch you could find, pulling yourself up the tree slowly and painfully, your upper body strength nowhere near where it would have needed to be for a smooth climb.

Your climb ended in a painful success, your sight just high enough to see a few figures passing through the trees at least a mile away from your tree. Your breath coming back to you slowly as you panted as quietly as possible, making sure not to have a limb hanging too far off any branch in case one of them found you and were able to pull you from your spot.

“Doll~ I know you’re around here, you left some pretty obvious footprints over here!”, Jongho called for you again, his voice scarily close.

As you looked down towards where you had seen about three of them moments ago, you noticed they were no longer there. You panicked, glancing around the surrounding area with frantic eyes until a sharp tug on your leg had you slipping from the branch, your hands grasping a thicker branch tightly as you hung above open air.

A sharp laugh followed and you glanced down, San’s eyes shining up at you from the ground as you noticed Jongho a few branches below you. You gasped and tried to pull yourself up only to be stopped by a ‘tsk’ from above you as Yeosang popped out from around the tree, his lips tugged into a mocking smirk.

He must’ve gotten up there when you were resting, his light footsteps translating into tree climbing. You huffed a breath that was equal parts annoyed and fearful as you tried to swing yourself onto a new branch. Your efforts were quickly stopped by Yeosang who had lowered himself to the branch above yours, his legs coming down to press on your fingers.

One hand slipped off the branch, the pain on the small bones too much for you to keep your grip. You swung dangerously over San, your body swaying like a flag in strong winds as Jongho laughed quietly at your panicked squeal when your other hand slipped just slightly. Yeosang took advantage of your fear, drawing your attention to him as he mockingly dangled his booted feet over your hand. He didn’t hold your attention for long, the rustling and snapping of branches approaching you gaining it all as you watched the rest of the boys gather around San at the base of the tree, varying degrees of amusement on their faces as Yeosang called something down to them with a smirk. The blood rushing in your ears blocked their voices as your hand slipped further, your scream catching in your throat as you fell into the open space.

The halt in conversation was clear to you now as the murmurs stopped, your senses overloading in fear and allowing you to register your hand being held by a larger one, faces of slight concern and amusement meeting your eyes when you opened them after you gathered enough courage to unclench them. Glancing up, you met Jongho’s eyes, the sweetness in them deceiving you enough for you to call up to him as he held you steady just a meter or so above the now predatory gazes of the other boys.

“J-Jongho please! Pull me up!”, your eyes clouded with a fresh round of tears, the boys cooing as they dripped down your cheeks slowly.

A mocking giggle carried up the tree, Hongjoong’s smirk staring you down when you glanced down at them once more.

“He won’t help you, bunny. He’s prepared to drop you the second I say so.”, Seonghwa seconded his statement with a laugh built of danger, “And I say so.”

The grip on your hand left instantly, your heart freezing as everything seemed to move in slow motion, Jongho’s kind eyes getting farther from you as Yeosang became a slight shadow up in the tree. Your back hit the ground with a thud seconds later, your eyes closing as you cried out in pain, your hands cradling to your chest as your breath left you all at once.

The heat of their gazes never left you once as you rocked side to side and coughed, tears slipping down your scraped cheeks rapidly as you opened your eyes slowly. Hongjoong was crouching above you as Seonghwa crouched beside him, his knife flipping tauntingly above your beaten body as you coughed some more.

A cold hand ran over your cheek as you caught your breath, your eyes squeezing shut as the owner of the hand placed a kiss on your forehead before you were in strong arms, your eyes opening slightly to see San’s features glancing down at you every so often before the events of the night caught up to you and you were out cold.

When your eyes blinked open next, you were back in the house, a red light surrounding you and hurting your eyes just enough for you to let out a whimper, your hands reaching to rub at your eyes only to stop halfway, a harsh press of metal against your wrists. The cold had you bolting upright as much as you could, a thick material around your neck choking you and pulling you back down to the bed with a grunt passing from between your slightly dried lips.

“I’d stop fighting it if I were you, princess.”

“It really will do you no good, little baby.”

“Wouldn’t want to hurt our poor bunny further.”

“You say that like our dumb little pet isn’t getting punished anyways.”

A light growl from Yeosang had them all silencing, watching him as he walked up to your tied down figure on the bed. The red light made his hair look orange, the fluffiness contrasting with the darkness in his gaze as he landed a slap on your already stinging cheek. Your head snapped to the side with the force of it, a few cheers coming quietly as you huffed before fixing him with a harsh glare, your lips parting to tell him off before another slap landed and your head was flung to the other side.

Your jaw ached, tears welling up in your eyes, ready to drop at any second before a cough catches your attention. You turn your head to the end of the bed where your feet lay tied to either side, Yunho crouched between them, the colour of his eyes nearly gone as his pupils dilate when he meets your gaze.

Another cough drags your attention from the giddy smile Yunho sends your way, Wooyoung waiting for your gaze just behind him as he adjusts his obvious erection in his pants. When you meet his eyes though, he’s not adjusting and blatantly palming himself as you furrow your eyebrows, noticing the others in similar states of arousal throughout the red lit room.

A scoff left you before you could contain it, eyes darkening further around the room as the lighting seemed to dim. The silence that took over the space was unsettling, your arms unconsciously tugging at the restraints to escape the situation before large hands roughly gripped your ankles, tugging you to the limit of the chain attached to the collar they had on you. You coughed roughly, tears escaping your eyes as you lost your ability to breathe so abruptly.

“Don’t you dare even think about telling us off. You have no power here. We do. Learn your place and learn it fast or else there’ll be bigger repercussions. We don’t want that for you, pet.”, Seonghwa’s voice was cruel as landed a few harsh slaps on your thigh from his place on the bed beside you.

You watched him silently as he flicked his knife open, the blade appearing before it vanished in the next second, the smirk on Seonghwa’s face a warning as he moved away for Mingi to sit down beside you. His large hand stroked over your thigh where his elder had hit, his expression soft as he held a giddy smile like Yunho, who had moved up between your legs. He was nearly in contact with your core, his breath fanning against you through your pants as he shuffled even closer. Mingi watched him carefully with you, the expression on his face filled with much more love and adoration for the man between your legs opposed to the confusion and fear in your own as you watched the tall men carefully.

The others were much less focused on the two up close and personal with you, their collective gaze on your expressions, studying every face you made to gauge the situation.

“It’s time we start this properly boys. Get ready, bunny.”

You whimpered as your collar was tugged on harder, your wrists tugging against the restraints once more as Seonghwa approached you once the two cleared your personal space. The smirk on his pretty lips was only cruel and dangerous as he knelt above you, his head tilted as he watched you struggle below him.

“We’re gonna have so much fun, pet.”

His voice echoed through your head as you allowed yourself to cry. The night's events overwhelmed you so suddenly, the blade slicing shallowly through your skin on your torso doing nothing but numbing you slowly as they broke you down, bit by bit. One at a time. Maybe they did love you, but as you closed your eyes and a slap landed on your cheek, Hongjoong’s disappointed expression hovering over your pained one before a sharp hit to the back of your head had you out cold.

You would never really know how that night portrayed their love for you, but you knew for certain, you would never love them back.

------

also, happy ateez day! and thanks for reading :)

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waitineedaname · 8 months ago

Note

🐝❄️🍬

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

I'm honestly a little confused by this question lol does it mean biggest supporter in general? or biggest supporter as a fic writer? I think lately as a fic writer it's been @patron-saints who has been very kind listening to me infodump about my own fic ideas lately and recently helped me through some stuff I was stuck on! my very nice thing to say is that they are ALSO a fic writer and a really talented one at that!! they're putting so much thought into their au and every time i get to peek behind the curtain I'm astounded by how much work they've done, it really takes a lot of dedication

❄️ ⇢ what’s your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

that's a really hard question bc I am generally operating under the rule of "if you want something to exist, you have to write it yourself" lol but I guess if I could hand someone more talented one of my fic ideas, I'd love it if someone else would write wwx as the juniors' camp counselor at a summer camp bc I think he would be so good at it but there are only so many fics I can write at once lmao

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

I do not think sizhui thinks of lwj as his dad!! I think lwj definitely had a hand in raising him and I think he definitely plays favorites among the juniors, but I think their relationship isn't as simple as father and son. it's probably a more nebulous area somewhere closer to a mentor or a teacher and his favorite student, maybe with a dash of older family member, like an uncle or older brother. it doesn't have to be a nuclear family!!! especially since lwj was Not Well around the time sizhui was adopted. it's more likely that sizhui was raised in like a collective lan family situation or adopted into another lan family unit or xichen took care of him while lwj was recovering. personally I think it would be very cute if sizhui was adopted into jingyi's family, they should be brothers

#asks #anonymous #I know people love the wangxian nuclear family dynamic #but I think it's more fun if it's not that clear cut!#i think found family doesn't need to fit into neat boxes!#lwj and sizhui are definitely very close but I do not think he's like his dad

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beedreamscape · 1 year ago

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MY REVIEW/THOUGHTS ON NONA THE NINTH WITH SPOILERS

I'll shamefully (not really) admit I much preferred John's sections of the book to Nona's.

Maybe is my hard time connecting to children or just the meandering aspect of their day-to-day life (I didn't know the book took place over a single week, I thought it was much longer) but most of the book is a lot of nothing but recounting things that have already happened and details that won't matter much in the future. There's little in that planet for us plotwise and, IMO, I don't care for the people there at all.

I just feel this should've been a novella instead of a full-on novel and if I hadn't gotten it as an audiobook, I don't think I would've finished the book.

One example of the audiobook coming in handy is, if it wasn't for Moira's unique voice for each of the kids (which was annoying little voices, I'll admit, but fair they're kids), I wouldn't have been able to tell them apart and I think we could've done with just two or three kids instead of the bunch we got. Also, all the BOE and adjacent characters did nothing for me (also Pash was given the most annoying voice ever of all time so I hated her instantly).

I won't say Nona is not an endearing character but there's only so much you can put in before it becomes overly sweet and at a certain point she wasn't doing it for me anymore and her "death" was the most interesting aspect still dragging my attention to her, I was at the edge of my seat waiting for Alecto to come out.

This paragraph of very personal opinions mind you: I didn't care for the dogs or the school or the broken down city or the kids or the teachers or WeSuffer or whatever Pyrrha was doing. And I feel like I should! but it was dragging so much and I was just here waiting for the plot to start.

My favourite character in the story this time around was Camilla n Palamedes simply because they were the most capable and most focused in the plot ahead. Also, their Steven-Universe-esque fusion struggle made me tear up more than once. Pyrrha's presence was also welcome but it never made me love her, there's still so much I'd like to know about her though.

Then there's John... even after the shitshow that was his human existence and even bigger bs as an immortal being, I'm still deeply fond of him and was counting the minutes until his chapters. It's all so honest, so close to home, so human seeing how power corrupted his sanity even if he didn't realize how it was eating at the corners of his stability. I also love peeking behind the curtains and seeing how everything came together from just a guy a poor little meow meow to a global catastrophe was very fun.

I don't want him to die but it seems like the only way for his story arc to reach catharsis is Alecto killing him and our very capable necromancers keeping the sun from exploding ig. Anyway, shallow theories, Tamsyn is anything but predictable!

And following the line of the previous novels, I didn't understand everything but I didn't have that hard a time going through it, though the politics in both John's and Nona's part were very confusing to me and by the end of her part in the planet especially, it was really losing me.

Also, the lack of necromancy outside the very very few occasions of Palamedes is felt by me at least. Even with Gideon not being a necromancer, we were surrounded by it, it was nearly a hand in the plot in the mystery. Here, there's none of it and it's heartbreaking.

In conclusion, I liked the book as a part of the overall series but considerably less than the previous two instalments. I'll be rereading the other two books in the future but I'll keep my reread of Nona to John's parts and very very end.

#ntn spoilers #nona the ninth #book review #tlt spoilers #the locked tomb

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siempre-bucky · 2 years ago

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Soft Spoken

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jake's loud and obnoxious tone of voice made you want to vomit. You only knew his arrogant drawl but on a rare occasion, you get to hear the softer tone of Hangman's voice.

wc: 1.3k

a/n: I'm a Bob girl but Hangman being a secret nice guy makes me weak...

Jake Seresin only had two tones of voice in your opinion. Loud and cocky. That’s how the two of you met, the pilot barreling into your hanger shouting with his Texas drawl being thickened by his frustration. You yelled at him with the same amount of arrogance and bitterness as he complained about the repairs to his plane. Seresin’s obnoxious arrogance didn’t even fade a bit when he apologized after your repairs saved his life.

After that day, the loudness started to dim but the obnoxious tone only heightened. Whatever arrogance-filled comment made your ear drums shrivel and your lips form a frown. Hangman’s voice was the worst part about him and he made sure to talk to you every day, much to your vexation.

“Shit,” you groaned, blinking for some sort of comfort. You’d been staring at your bright screen for God knows how long and the dry eyes and rumbly stomach was the proof. The screen went dark, and the red numbers of your alarm clock shone from your desk. It was only eight, the sun had just gone down on the other side of your blackout curtains.

Your bones cracked as you rolled out of your bed, your oversized Navy t-shirt rising with your arms as you stretched your exhausted body. Hearing the low rumble again, you turned on your lamp and swiped your wallet off the light-colored wooden desk. The vending machine on the floor below you was newly stocked and it was calling your name.

After you exited the elevator the silence of the floor was cut short. Your ears perked at the low smooth voice coming from one of the dorms. Your eyebrows raised, the man's voice was smooth as silk and made you gravitate closer.

You were hooked on every muffled word coming from the room in the middle of the hall, assuming it was his room because it was the only one with an open door. You noticed that he had an accent, only appearing occasionally from how soft he spoke. Halting just before the door’s opening, you pressed your back against the hall to listen to him more.

God, he sounded like one of those men who recorded those audiobooks you’d sometimes listen to as a means to fix your insomnia. You definitely wouldn’t mind falling asleep to the sounds of the stranger's voice. Why were you swooning over a man’s voice? But it was a very enchanting voice, beautiful and full of care.

The anticipation was slowly starting to get to you with your fingers beginning to twitch from the jittery feeling in your body. You had to know who he was; just one small peek and you’d be on your way to the vending machine. Slowly, you turned and poked your head in to see his back to you. He was a tall blond with strong shoulders, his muscles could still be seen, though mostly hidden because of his black shirt. He sat at his desk with a book in hand, two children no more than eight years old smiling over a video call.

The man’s smooth voice kept pulling you away from the comfort of the wall until you were leaning against his door frame with your arms crossed.

“Uncle Jake, there’s a girl behind you,” the little boy whispered, his hand covering his giggling mouth.

The man placed the children’s book on his knee and turned around. A freezing chill ran through your warm system, your blood turning ice cold as the green eyes of Hangman met your own. Your jaw clenched so tightly that you swore it would break and you struggled to keep your composure.

The enchanting, well-spoken voice belonged to the man that completely vexed you.

“Well, well, well,” he hummed lowly, arrogance simmering at the surface. Hangman turned the rest of his body and scooted away from his desk. “Abby, Tommy…this is Y/N, the best mechanic in the Navy,” he introduced in the same tone he used while reading their bedtime story. Jake just smirked at you as the kids greeted you. It wasn't condescending but it also wasn’t reassuring, what the hell was it?

“H-hello,” you greeted bashfully, sending them a small wave. Jake murmured something to the kids before placing them on mute and turning his attention fully to you.

“What brings you down here, Y/N?” he asked.

There it was again. That handsome bastard saying your name without an ounce of flirtation or the signature way he growled your name just to get under your skin. Your name spilling from his chapstick-covered lips felt, right? It was almost soothing. Before you knew it, your heart had melted at the softness of Jake Seresin and the way his voice changed when there was no one to impress or flirt with—just an uncle calmly reading the kids Winnie the Pooh.

You suddenly liked the soft side of Hangman. You suddenly liked him.

“The, uh, guys restocked the vending machine—you want anything?” you recovered not so smoothly and when he slouched in his chair and his smirk grew wider, you knew he caught on.

“No thanks, princess,” he chuckled. He then eyed you up and down, his tongue swiping along his lower lip, “but you’re more than welcome to stay and finish the story with us.”

You hummed and nodded along as he spoke. There was a small pause before you had the courage to speak again. “I’ll stand for a bit.”

Jake flashed another knowing glare before he carried on with the ending of the book. You don’t remember how you got there, but you were sitting on the foot of his bed and watching his thumb graze the spine of the book while he read.

“Enjoy the show?” he taunted as he shut his laptop and placed the book on top of the silver surface.

There was the Jake you knew and loathed. You huffed and rolled your eyes, crossing your legs on his bed. “You should speak like that more often—people might like you better,” you teased in return. Hangman let out a small chuckle and ran a hand through his short hair.

“You mean, you’d like me better.” You refused to look but you just knew that his signature cocky smile was plastered on his perfect face.

“If only the sound of your voice didn’t fuck up my eardrums all the time, Hangman.” You chose your next words wisely. You didn’t want to call him ‘soft’ and have the man argue with you till the end of time. “If you spoke like this,” your hand came up and made a circle motion, “I might go out with that Jake.”

Hangman came closer in his chair, close enough that you could see the small and pretty lines on his forehead. “And how did I sound?” he asked in a hushed voice, the small rasp made you shiver.

“Comforting—and I think I’d like to get to know this side of you if there’s anything left of him.”

Jake leaned in a little closer and slowly placed his hand on your knee just in case you turned him down. “How about Friday? I’ll bring a big kid book to read by the beach,” he offered.

Even his touch felt different. You were accustomed to sharp pats on the back as he nonchalantly thanked you for your work and the tight clutching of your wrist as he guided you through the crowd of the Hard Deck. His large hand sat there, the warm touch causing a fire to spread on your skin.

Your eyes flashed upward to him. “Fine,” you agreed. He started to close in the gap but you placed your hand on his chest to stop him. “So am I really the best mechanic in the Navy?”

“If I say yes will you let me kiss you?” he sighed, his frustration beginning to grow like it always does with you.

“Yeah.”

His lips covered yours and as he pulled away he spoke softly, “You’re the best mechanic in the Navy, Y/N.”

His words warmed your body, the familiar tingle made you giggle before kissing him again, your hand resting on top of his and the vending machine long forgotten.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #hangman imagine #hangman fanfic #jake seresin imagine #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic

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quillbriar · 2 years ago

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what would have happened on the carnegie hall stage if midge hadn't turned down the copa

Thank you for the request, Anon! ❤️❤️

Send me requests for any ship!

read it over on ao3

“Lenny, where are you…” Her words stumbled out of her mouth like the cigarette smoke out of his. Midge Maisel isn’t often stunned into silence, but, yep, Carnegie Hall would do it.

“I had to bring you out here, it’s the next step, isn’t it? Logical. First there’s the illegal strip club hidden in the alleys, and then the Copa, and then ‘Midge Maisel, one sold-out night at Carnegie Hall’.”

“Midge to you, Mrs. Maisel to the rest of ‘em.”

“How lucky I am to get a peek behind the all-elusive and exclusive curtain.”

Midge looks up at Lenny like he’s part of the golden arched and dark velvet wrapped scenery, like he’s in her future, someday, but just not right now. Like she needs permission and stamps of approval and a committee’s opinion.

What’s the point of battling one-liners and the waltz of staring and smirking if she can’t admit defeat when the piano clinks out the final measure of three-fourths time? No, not defeat. Simply, an acquiescence that he gets to be in the lead tonight.

“Is that the route you took?”

A small tilt of the head to the left, cigarette chimneys blowing out cockeyed smoke puffs.

“To get here,” Midge clarifies with a wave of her hand as if it all is obvious, “illegal strip club, Copa, Carnegie Hall?”

“Oh, yes, most definitely. You’ve run me out of business. I’ll have to leave town soon. The usual pilgrimage has been all booked up by a certain dame in pearls and a black dress.”

“It’s not just one black dress—”

“Oh, is it not?”

“No, it’s actually multiple black dresses, with different designs and sometimes there’s a sash that’s another color, or a patterned look.”

“Very complex, this barrage of dresses.”

“You should see the hat collection.”

“But,” he started, his voice suddenly serious after the lighthearted riffing, then paused.

“Go on.”

“The pearls, just one set of pearls, right?”

“Are you offering to buy me a necklace, Mr. Bruce? And pearls, no less!”

Midge batted her eyes at him over her shoulder coquettishly, but he met her gaze with a warmth that won out over the light tone Midge kept trying to maintain. Lenny shrugged, the move a little less convincing in his dark, pressed ‘Carnegie Hall’ suit than it would be in a cheaper, more wrinkled variety. The cigarette and loosened tie and buttons helped, though.

“I could buy you a tie, if reciprocation is what you’re looking for.” Midge supplies when Lenny has taken too long to answer, her tone matching that of his stare.

“Tell you what, Midge. You play Carnegie Hall, I’ll buy you pearls, sure.”

“Before or after the ring?”

Another shrug, but there’s a boyish roguishness to the action, and the accompanying smirk.

“Depends on how fast you get to Carnegie Hall.”

#the marvelous mrs. maisel #marvelous mrs maisel #lenny bruce #midge maisel #midge x lenny #quillbriar

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osamiiya · 4 years ago

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Taking them bra shopping

Characters: Kita Shinsuke, Ojiro Aran, Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu, Suna Rintaro

Warnings: Suggestive, gender neutral pronouns but reader has boobies, like one or two swears.

a/n Why did I write this? idk honestly. Watch my mental state degrade throughout this

Kita Shinsuke

---

Very polite

You think you see him blushing a bit at the more risque lingerie but he isn't

"I think that the other colour complemented your skin tone better."

Dosent try anything funny in the changing rooms, he simply peeks his head through the curtains, makes sure no one else sees. He waits in the hallway :(

Gives his honest thoughts about the style and color

Won't outright ask you to buy any lingerie but he's not going to object.

Pays for it all bless his soul </3

"I think the other one was better. This looks too tight."

You hum and move to put the other one on and Kita makes a sound of approval that accompanies his small smile.

His hands politely hover over the bra to fix it's positioning, waiting for your green light to put his hands on you.

"This one looks the best."

"It's $45 I think." Kita just nods and slips away from the curtain when you mutter something about being done.

He's holding the bras you decide to get in one hand, wallet in the other, and as the items get scanned, he dosent even bat an eye.

At your thanks he just raises an eyebrow.

"You need them don't you?"

Ojiro Aran

Respectful but also down bad

He walks with his eyes cast downward bc his mother raised him to respect women. He can't help that his eyes wander sometimes and then widen at the linge racks.

Aran holds your stuff and lets you wander off, following and giving his opinion when asked for it.

He says everything will look good on you so he's kind of no help

Again waits in the hallway, but if you have multiple to try on he'll just wait in the fitting room with you and comment nice things on how you look that day

"This one or the first one?"

You do a turn for him and he just smiles.

"They're both nice."

Rolling your eyes you run to the mirror, not missing the way Aran's eyes wander on your body.

"I don't want to get both though."

Your hands run over the material, pushing and pulling at it slightly to see which one was more flattering.

"Just get both, I'll pay."

Your smile grows in the mirror as you ask if he's sure, and he is.

So you get both, and wander to the check out, picking up things and asking Aran's thoughts.

Aran however, didn't think that bras would be that expensive, it's a small piece of fabric,the same as a bikini top, why was the price so high?

He swallows his pride and hands his card over with shaky hands, it's nothing he couldn't afford, he was just shocked that two bras easily went over $100.

Miya Atsumu

Don't take him please

Brings you lingerie that he thinks will look nice on you.

Has his own basket of stuff he thinks will look nice on you.

Finds the whole ordeal extremely hot and enjoys watching you send an embarrassed glare when he asks to get sized

Waits in the fitting room with you the entire time, putting on the bras after you and giggling to himself.

Wants to touch. Do not let him touch.

Likes all boobies big and small, very much a boob man and will be caught drooling at you trying on lingerie and push up bras

"You should get this."

There's less that'll be covered than the others, but Atsumu's dead set on how "Fuckin' hot" you'd look in it.

A quick look to the price tag has Atsumu's eyes going wide as saucers, and you can almost see the mental debate he has going on, whether he wants to get the lingerie along with your other under things or get the nice knee pads he's been wanting.

Miya Atsumu sulks when he puts it back, sending it a solemn look as he whispers that it would be a shame to spend that much money for a one night event, knowing how he'd ruin it and rip it off at first opportunity.

Like Aran, he watches you try on different styles and colours and decides they're all nice, really nice.

The price tag however? Not so nice.

He goes on a Twitter rant while you're talking to the store owner.

Miya Osamu

You would think he was a good person to go with

But remember, he's still a Miya

Snorts when the lady has you put on a bra over your clothes to see the cup size

But somehow he's still hyping you up?

Swears in ~awe~ and wolf whistles when you ask for his opinion

He loves going undergarment shopping with you

Likes it when you allow him to pick out lingerie, hands smoothing over your skin and the lace with awe

Genuinely thinks you look prettiest in the bright fitting room lighting, clad in a pair of pants and no top

"Wow."

Osamu can't help that his eyes wander everywhere, and you're right in front of him and God, you're so pretty.

"Look ok?"

Osamu's nodding before he realizes what he's doing.

"Let's buy the whole store, doll."

Unfortunately he dosent have the budget of a professional athlete but he's still got some money that he's more than willing to spend if it makes you feel pretty.

"The whole store?" You cant help but laugh at the firm nod Osamu gives you through the mirror, and Osamu's eyes sparkle.

His eyes however, don't sparkle when the poor teenage girl rings up the items, and Osamu sweats as he hands over his card, promising himself it was for a good cause.

And it was, especially when you show him again at home.

Suna Rintaro

Asks why you can't just use his hands as a bra

Smack his smug grin

Dosent mind going shopping with you or holding your bags

Just goes on his phone until you ask him something

Thinks you're pretty whenever, and dosent get the point of getting a pretty bra when nobody (but him) will see it anyways

Gives good advice on what styles look better than others

Makes sure they're comfortable and that you tell the lady if it isnt

He couldn't care less, will walk around the mall afterwards holding the bag

"Just tell her your size is my hand."

"Rin, please shut up- Hi yes I was looking to get a bra."

Suna wandered around the area, not letting you out of his peripheral vision, texting Atsumu and feeling the different laces and silks.

He's almost scared out of his skin when a worker approaches and asks if he needs anything.

When he wanders back, you're getting sized and Suna's scanning your face for any inckling of uncomfort, and when none if detected his eyes go back to his phone, the Schweiden Adlers going into their second set after taking the first.

"Babe can you come see if this fits properly?"

Suna blinks for a moment, whipping his head around a couple times before spotting your face peeking out from the fitting room curtain.

He sends a sheepish look to the ladies in line and slips behind the curtain with you.

"I think it's good- here." His fingers are cold against your skin as he loosens the straps a little.

"Looks nice, I like the colour." Suna's face is soft and he rests his chin on your shoulder as you admire yourself.

---

Bonus; The colour bra they would pick for you

Kita: Something practical, white or a skin tone

Aran: I feel like he would like something a bit lacy? If you were comfortable with it. That or a basic colour like black.

Atsumu: Red!

Osamu: "Dosent care" but also soft colors

Suna: Like an emerald green? He gives me emerald green vibes

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years ago

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in which you and harry meet again after six months.

a/n: hiiii! this is for @theharriediaries fic challenge! the photo used is the one on the left of the banner, and the dialogue i chose was ‘Is this seat taken?’ ‘By you, I hope.’ & ‘I’m sorry it took us this long.’ thank you for creating this challenge, soph!

thank you @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, mwah! <3

WORD COUNT: 12k of dad!harry with slight angst and fluff (pls appreciate the dilfrry dialogues in this lmao)

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘THE TRAIN RIDE BACK TO US’ I’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

The gold bell chimed quite loudly, informing the baristas that someone had entered their shop. The aroma of fresh ground coffee beans immediately filled your senses once you pushed open the sage green door as the smell feeling of nostalgia and comforted you.

Everything looked the same in the coffee shop. The oak wood floor never changed with coffee stains in certain areas that didn’t quite seem to come off all the way, no matter how hard the employees scrubbed—but it gave the shop character, in your opinion. Different colored potted plants filled the shop in every corner and on the clean white windowsill, making the place look lively. Crisp oxygen mixed with Columbian coffee beans flowed around the shop, making customers want to come back to a comfortable environment. Black and white bistro tables sat within the café, with silver metal bases, holding the circular table tops up as they alternated with colors along the built-in brown bench against the light-gray colored wall; with matching black and white metal chairs that practically screeched against the oak wood floors when someone was trying to scoot in or out of the table.

The entire shop was the exact same from what you remembered it to be six months ago. The only difference was that when you sat on the wooden bench, specifically at the black table in the corner that was right next to the window, the person who was supposed to be in front of you wouldn’t be there; and for that, your heart dropped a little.

Trying not to think too much about your change of mood, you ordered your usual—an iced mocha latte with a pump of sweet vanilla syrup—before you paid and turned around to see which tables were available. The usual corner table was staring right at you, practically mocking you, and you wished that the table was occupied, but then you would’ve felt wrong sitting at a different table when yours was clearly open.

You took your seat on the bench, and almost immediately, you started shaking your leg underneath the table. Your seat felt hot, as if the wood was catching fire underneath you, burning your legs and making you antsy.

Luckily, the shop wasn’t crowded so it took the baristas less than six minutes to make your drink and to call out your name from behind the counter. Quickly, standing up from the burning hot seat, you made your way to the counter, thanking Mel for the drink. Since coming here, you had become quite a constant in the cute Portland coffee shop. Mel was one of the employees that had worked at the shop the longest, so she made everyone’s drinks because she knew the menu the best. So, you caught up with her a bit, and inevitably, she asked where you had been.

“You didn’t find a better coffee shop did you?” She teased, making you chuckle.

“No, I’ve just been, uh, too busy to come around. But I promise, your drinks and shop are still the best,” you said truthfully, to which she beamed. To this day, you hadn’t found a superior coffee shop than ‘Coava’ because the others just didn’t compare—they didn’t make you feel the same way you did with this one. “But thanks for the coffee.” You gave her one last smile before you turned around to make your way back to your table.

And then the bell chimed.

It was as if the sun was peeking out through the clouds; the sun beams strongly pointed down onto the wet pavement after a night of rain, leaving the air with its pleasant smell of petrichor. He was the light that seeped through the curtains, and you knew it was going to be a lovely day.

“Harry…” you stopped in your tracks, careful not to spill the contents of your coffee cup. Your heart skipped several beats once he flashed you his gorgeous smile that you were still hopelessly in love with.

“Hi, Y/N.” Harry mindlessly played with the buttons of his coat as he mentally tried to situate the nerves in his head and stomach. His breath felt like it was stuck in his throat, making his voice slightly trail off with a crack to the tone.

It felt like the two of you were the only ones in the coffee shop—minus the locals who were sitting at the tables, minding their own business, or wondering what the fuck they were doing standing in the middle of the shop—completely and fully captured by the other’s stare and presence.

The loud screeching noise of steam took you out of your dazy trance as you cleared your throat. Harry looked down at his feet before looking up at you through his lashes, shyly intertwining his hands behind his back.

“Uh, would you like to join me?”

Harry raised his brows at your proposal, pursing his lips to contain his giddy excitement. “S-Sure.” You took a deep breath before you started to walk towards the table in the corner—one he was also very familiar with. “This seat...Is this seat taken?” He asked politely but, almost instantly, mentally cursed himself because you wouldn’t have invited him if you were with someone.

You didn’t catch his slip up, instead, you smiled as your face grew warm. “By you, I hope.” Harry blushed, taking a seat on the black metal chair across from you.

“So, how’ve you been? It’s been a while since I last saw you,” you mentioned.

It’d been six months since the last time you saw and sat in front of Harry—a very long six months. The conversation six months ago wasn’t the most happiest of memories because that conversation brought in the heartache and heartbreak; the chat had included the mutual separation of your relationship that involved tears, chest pain, and as always, the smell of Colombian coffee that surrounded your afflictive conversation, hoping it would calm the tension between you two.

“Yeah, it has been a while, but I’m doing okay. How are you?”

“I’m good.” There was a bit of awkwardness swirling in the air, and you absolutely despised it—you wanted it to leave the shop and never return. You had always imagined what it would be like bumping into Harry again, more importantly, what you would say to him. And despite all those moments daydreaming of finding the right words, you were completely stuck, and you fully blamed it on the awkward tension. “Can we not be…y’know, awkward? That’s not us,” you simply said.

Harry let out a sigh of relief, adding a breathy laugh. “Yes, yes, of course. You’re right, that isn’t us at all.” Mel brought him an iced black coffee since it was his usual, and she saw that he didn’t get the chance to order because he was immediately occupied by the sight of you. He softly thanked her with a smile, only taking his attention off of you for a split second before his eyes were right back on you; he didn’t know what this conversation would lead to, nor did he want to get his hopes up, so that meant spending every moment with his complete attention and eyes averted to you. “I miss you…” he said.

There was a sense of relief as you exhaled deeply, glad that he wasn’t the only one who was missing the other. His words had brought a flutter of butterflies to your stomach, soaring as they pleased while your face felt warm.

You and Harry had been together for a year and a half before calling it quits. For most of the relationship, it was happiness and bliss—occasional fights, but they weren’t frequent—towards the last few months however, things were getting a bit stressful. You remembered the days like it was yesterday as the vivid memory crept inside of your head...

It was nearing nine in the evening and the house was quiet. The silence was louder than the ongoing noise inside your head that was constantly yelling at you, making your head ache from the incessant thoughts. It was safe to say that you weren’t happy, and that even Harry wasn’t happy either. But you had only gotten a glimpse of him during the evening, so you were simply assuming that he wasn’t content—but it was a very logical assumption since every time he looked at you, it seemed like he was becoming more stressed out by the minute; as if he didn’t already have a lot on his plate during the day, and by night, he would still have to deal with whatever argument and fight either of you would pick for no apparent reason.

It started with petty little arguments, getting annoyed and frustrated at the other because of burnt toast or something as small as running out of detergent for the laundry. But fighting over nothing had turned into completely confessing that you weren’t happy anymore, and that the exhaustion had gotten to you.

“I-I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Harry,” you said in between your sobs that you tried to contain. “All we’re doing is hurting each other—we’re not even happy together anymore!”

It felt like his heart was exploding, but it was the truth. “Darling…”

“You can’t lie and tell me that we’re happy together because it’s obvious that we’re not.” You wiped the tears from your face, leaving your skin damp from the moisture.

Harry sighed deeply, knowing he couldn’t argue anymore. He felt defeated and upset with himself; it was like he was doing well in everything else or at least trying, and he couldn’t even do his part in being a good boyfriend to you. He knew part of the reason why both of you weren’t happy was because of the neglectance, and both of you were too exhausted to even communicate that feeling. You two were both independent entrepreneurs—always knowing when to close business and how to make a well deserved investment or sale with others who were trying to buy whatever stock or product. But when it came down to each other, to Y/N and Harry, it seemed like the individuals that were trying to please and charm others had dissipated, leaving no room or patience for each other.

“We’re both busy, Harry, I get that. And maybe it’s best if we call it quits until everything settles down—until we both know what we want—”

“I want you,” he interrupted.

You softly huffed, looking down at your lap as you slightly nodded before you looked up at him again. He had tears streaming down his face and more forming in his eyes; you loved that he wasn’t embarrassed or afraid to show his true emotions—he was being vulnerable every time he let his guard down, and for that, you would appreciate him forever.

Muffled, static cracks followed by quiet little groans were heard from the baby monitor on the coffee table. Harry glanced at it before looking back at you, knowing he had to take care of his number one priority, and who were you to stop him? So, you nodded, tilting your head towards the room, and he sadly smiled before heading towards the nursery.

You walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbed a pen and paper, and wrote ‘Meet me at Coava tomorrow. Usual time.’ before you placed it on the coffee table beside the monitor. As you were leaving, you heard soft humming coming from the baby monitor, and your heart squeezed, frowning as this was most likely going to be the last time you were going to be in this house. Taking one look around, you took in all of the memories that you made in the building that made you feel safe and warm before you stepped out, immediately welcomed by the cool temperatures of the evening.

The next afternoon when you walked into Coava, Harry was already sitting at the usual table you two sat at. His head was down, mindlessly wiping down the condensation that formed outside of his glass. You took a seat in front of him without saying a word, making him look up. He had dark circles around eyes as he hadn’t gotten much sleep.

“Hi,” you whispered. There was your usual cup of iced coffee placed in front of you. “Thank you for the coffee.”

He nodded and smiled softly, despite his current mood. “Hello.”

You took a deep breath. “So…where do we go from here?”

Harry sadly looked at you with desperation in his eyes that spoke, no, begged you to tell him to stay, to tell him that you two could and would work this out. But it seemed like you hadn’t received that specific message from his green and sorrowful eyes.

“You were right…We haven’t been able to make time for one another. So, we’ll just…take some time apart.” His heart and voice cracked at the end of his sentence, finding it hard to even form a sentence that didn’t absolutely break him. You nodded, agreeing, but it didn’t hurt any less; you knew this would be best for the two of you because both of you had to focus on yourselves, especially when Harry had his priorities, such as his family, which you weren’t going to make him change whatsoever. “Okay…so, we’re over.” He hadn’t said it as a question but rather a way to see that realization.

You reached across the table, placing your hand on his, and you were lucky that he didn’t pull away. “Harry, this doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I…will always love you.”

“And I’ll always love you too,” he said honestly.

Behind the civil and mature conversation that occurred, there was sadness and heartbreak. There were no more smiles or laughs, no more love and affection, or anymore meet-ups during lunch or coffee dates during breaks. The painful look on Harry’s face had only pained you even more, but you both knew this split-up and time apart was for the best.

That was six months ago.

Now, as you sat across Harry, you felt an overwhelming rush of relief and joy; he just looked happier and you saw a familiar glint in his eyes as he looked at you. It may not be the same sparkle of love as it once was, which you were afraid it wasn’t, but there was still some kind of sparkle—the kind someone would give when they reunite with an old friend.

“The kids miss you—they miss you a lot.”

Your eyes look at him fondly at the mention of his children. “Really?”

“Yeah, they do. They said, and I quote, they miss their ‘pretty fairy second mom,’” Harry said quite proudly.

Harry had three kids that you absolutely adored. There was Mira and Estelle, seven-year-old twins that looked like their father. Mira was very energetic and talkative—that little girl could talk for hours on end without missing a beat; Estelle was more quiet and reserved, but once you started hanging around, she opened up and was quite fun to have a laugh with. Then there was the sweet little two-year-old boy, Rory, who resembled his mother. He was always babbling and giggling, so happy and free.

If Harry was being honest, Rory was a complete accident. Him and his ex had separated and broken up when the twins were four, but they were still seeing each other. Those occasional hangouts led to another child, which they both thought would help them bond, but six months into the pregnancy, they both knew it wasn’t right anymore—not like before. So, they stuck to coparenting and, if they were speaking the truth, it was much better than being together.

When Rory was six months old, that was when Harry met you. On an unexpected literal run in the park when you and Harry were on your daily runs, the trail was only narrow and small enough for one person to run. So, when you and Harry were running towards each other, you braced yourself for the awkwardness you were about to face with the man. Harry politely smiled, moving to his left, only for you to move to your right, which made you both giggle. The two of you then moved to the opposite side, only to clash again. The thought was quite hilarious to the two of you, so you both started laughing, clutching your stomachs. Once you two calmed down, Harry then said that he was going to his left, so you moved to your left, running the opposite directions from each other.

At the end of the trail and on your way to the parking lot, you saw Harry finish the same trail but exit from the other side. And if it said anything more, you parked right next to his car as well. Harry smiled, dimples flashing and asked you how your run was, which then led to a bit of small talk. In the six minutes you two were talking, Harry made the impulsive decision to ask you if you would like some coffee. He wouldn’t have asked if it were anyone else, and until that moment he didn’t even know if he was ready to date again. But he took the chance and decided to ask you, and luckily, you said yes.

The rest was history.

“I miss them so much too.” You smiled softly, thinking about the kids that you had thought of as your own.

“I, uh, I know it’s too much to ask, but I figured I should ask either way…Would you like to see them? Mira would never live it down if I told them that I saw you and didn’t ask if you wanted to see them.” He added a chuckle at the end, nerves creeping up his skin.

Your eyes lit up. “Really? You’d let me see them?”

Harry raised his brows. “Yeah, of course! You could see them anytime you want, if you’d like. Just because we’re not, y’know, together doesn’t mean that you can’t see them. I know how much you love them and how much they love you too,” he reassured.

“Would Laurie be okay with that?” You asked about his ex and the mother of said children.

He nodded. “Yeah, she would. I mean, she also knows how much they love you.” Harry was lucky that the mother of his children and his ex was so kind and chill with having someone that Harry loved be ‘another mother’ to her children; all Laurie really asked of you was to not try and replace her role as their mom and to always keep them safe when she wasn’t around, and who were you to disrespect her wishes?

“Harry, I would love to, thank you. I really do miss them.” You felt yourself getting a bit emotional because of how much you missed the kids, and it’d felt like an eternity since you last saw them.

“Great! Tomorrow is the weekend, so are you free to go to the park and maybe get some ice cream after?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.” You smiled, not too widely as you tried to contain your excitement.

Harry smiled back at you before quickly looking at his phone to check the time. “I gotta get back. But I’ll see you tomorrow and will text you the details tonight.”

“Okay, see you soon.” You stood up to hug him, and his arm immediately wrapped around your waist, hugging you to his chest. His stomach was doing flips as he felt your breath against the crook of his neck. He didn’t want the moment to end, and it was the most physical contact that you two had in six months.

Pulling away, he offered you a smile before bidding you goodbye, and you finally let out the breath you had been holding the moment the bell chimed and the man you still loved walked in.

A soft blush was planted on Harry’s cheeks for the entire day. He was driving from work to Laurie’s house to pick up his beloved children as he thought about how his day turned out to be.

In all honesty, he hadn’t expected to see you in the coffee shop that you two had gone to throughout the entirety of your relationship. He had just gotten out of a meeting and was debating on going to Coava because he hadn’t been there since the day you two called it quits, but he figured it was time and thought that maybe reminiscing on the memories you two had with each other wasn’t a bad thing. So, he walked into that shop thinking he was just going to get a coffee to-go, but he had gone in there and left with something so much better.

The moment his eyes landed on yours his mind had screamed and reassured him that he wasn’t just dreaming that you were standing right in front of him, he felt his stomach drop in the best way. The heat had rushed to his cheeks, tugging on the corners of his lips, urging his mouth to smile, and he did not hold back his joy when he saw you. You were beautiful, just like he remembered, but he had no doubt that there wasn’t a day that went by where you weren’t not absolutely stunning.

And the giddy feeling he felt when he asked you if you’d like to see the kids made his heart tumble inside of his chest as he couldn’t wait for you and the kids to finally see each other again.

Harry pulled into Laurie’s driveway, and he quickly got out and knocked on the door, waiting for Laurie to answer. He chuckled as he could practically hear the twins screaming from across the house to make sure they had everything they needed. When the door opened, he was met by his ex that he once loved, and still had some platonic love for her, naturally, as the mother of his children.

“Hey, Harry! They’re just getting their stuff ready,” she greeted with a smile, opening the door wider as she walked away from the entrance and let him in. She grabbed Rory from the couch, who was mindlessly playing with a giant puzzle piece, and gave him many kisses to his cheeks before saying goodbye to her son and handing him off to Harry.

Rory’s eyes lightened up at the sight of his father. “Dada!”

“Hi, my sweet boy. I’ve missed you.” He placed soft kisses to his chubby and squeezable cheeks.

“Girls, dad’s waiting!” Laurie called out from the bottom of the stairway before turning back towards Harry. “Why do you look like that?” She gave him a knowing look.

“Like what?” Harry asked, acting like he didn’t know what she was talking about. The blush really gave him away, he thought.

“You’re just…extra happy today.”

“Can’t I be happy, Laurie? To see my kids?” He teased, smirking as he hugged Rory to his chest.

“I mean, sure, but…did something happen today?”

His smile widened, and it was like he couldn’t contain the exciting feeling anymore and he just had to tell someone. “I saw Y/N today.”

Her brows raised. “Really? How is she?”

“She’s doing well, yeah. We talked for a little bit.” Was all that he told her.

“And I’m assuming it went well.” He nodded, not wanting to tell her more. “Well, that’s great, Harry. She was, is, a lovely woman and she took care of the kids, so that’s all that matters to me,” Laurie said genuinely; she wasn’t jealous, if she was being honest. All that mattered to her was that her kids were in good hands.

Suddenly more footsteps were coming down the stairs. “Dad!” The twins yelled at the same time. He put Rory down for a moment before he bent down to hug his two girls.

“Hi, my loves. How are you?” He kissed both of their cheeks, making their small arms hug him tighter.

“Dad, I scored one hundred percent on all my spelling tests, so I’m qualified for the spelling bee!” Mira explained excitedly once she let go of Harry.

“Really?! That’s amazing, bug. This week, I’ll help you study for it.” Mira beamed at that before walking over to her mom to say bye.

“How are you, my sunshine?” He directly asked Estelle, knowing that she was specifically waiting for Harry to have his attention on only her. Even though she’d never told him that, he could tell that sometimes Estelle lets Mira have her moment and wanted to speak with Harry when no one else was paying attention.

“I’m good. My teacher told me I could become a math…mathmat—daddy, what are they called?” She looked at Harry for help.

“Look at you, sunshine! I’m so proud of you my little mathematician.” Estelle’s eyes widened. “Is that you meant mathematician, sweetheart?” He smiled.

“Yes, that! I did good on my math test and even baked cookies for you!” Before Harry could say anything, Estelle ran off to the kitchen to grab the plate of cookies she baked last night.

“Alright, babies, let’s go. Say bye to mommy.” The kids said their goodbyes before Harry safely buckled them into their car seats and drove home for a week at their father’s.

When all four of them reached the front door, Harry told the twins to put their belongings away and wash up for dinner. He set Rory down in his high chair before cutting up some bananas in halves, and placing them on the plastic table in front of him for his pre-dinner snack. Knowing that his kids liked home cooked meals better than takeout, fortunately, he set out the ingredients to make some fried rice, which was quick and easy.

The twins rushed down the stairs once Harry put the leftover rice into the pan filled with sautéed veggies, and they settled onto the couch in front of the TV, waiting for dinner.

“Loves, set the table for me, please!” He called out from the kitchen as he transferred the rice from the pan to a large bowl, topping it with green onions. The girls each had a task for setting the table; Mira was in charge of forks and spoons, and Estelle handled the plates since she was less clums. He rolled Rory’s high chair over to the table, which he was so lucky to have gotten a high chair with wheels because it was so much easier to move him without carrying him and the chair; and he gave everyone an equal scoop, depending on how much they ate, and if they wanted seconds, he would be glad to serve them more.

As they ate, Harry was occasionally helping Rory eat the rice, just picking up the contents that didn’t make it into his mouth, as Estelle and Mira both took turns talking. Harry loved family dinner, he tried his very best to give all three of his children the attention that they deserved, but dinner was the one time they bonded the most because no one felt competitive or had the urge to start an argument when there was food in front of them.

“Daddy, how was your day?” Estelle asked curiously, and Harry smiled at his sunshine, as if she was the sun itself, heart swooning.

“It was great, thanks for asking, my love.” He placed his spoon on his plate. “I actually wanted to talk to you all about something.” The twins didn’t respond, just stared at him, encouraging him to continue. “Do you remember Y/N?” Just at the sound of your name, the crowd went absolutely wild.

“Y/N, yes!” Screamed Estelle, which was rare for her to raise her voice.

“Pretty, fairy second mom, of course we remember her, dad!” Mira exclaimed obviously.

“Fairy!” Rory had repeated the only word he could make out from Mira’s mouth as he fussed because of the volume that had increased from his sisters.

Harry laughed. “Alright, okay, settle down. Well, I saw her today.” The twins gasped, making him chuckle. It genuinely felt like he was on a talk show with a live audience. “And I wanted to ask you all if you wanted to see her tomorrow? Figured we could go to the park and get some ice cream together?” He asked hesitantly, even though he knew they’d say yes, and he’d get another chance to see you again.

“Yes!” The girls both answered.

Harry beamed, turning to Rory. “Bubba, remember Y/N? Your slide friend? Remember you used to go on the slide with Y/N?” Rory giggled, a sound that was Harry’s weakness, and nodded. “Do you wanna see her tomorrow?”

“Slide with fairy?” Rory asked, and Harry laughed.

“Yes, slide with fairy,” he confirmed, and Rory nodded his head eagerly.

Harry smiled, glad his kids were with the plans tomorrow. The rest of the dinner was filled with the twins talking about you; they talked about what you all could do together at the park and what they wanted to show you, and Harry would be lucky if they slept through the entire night without continuously waking up because of their excitement for the upcoming afternoon.

Once everything was cleaned up and put away, the twins washed and cleaned, Harry give Rory a bath, and everyone was ready for bed, Harry said good night to his babies, spending about five minutes cuddling and talking them to sleep until they fluttered their eyes closed and off to slumber.

Sighing, Harry closed his door, leaving the baby monitor from Rory’s room on his bedside table before he was able to unwind for the day. He always spent an extra amount of time on his skin care routine, figuring that he sometimes didn’t have time for himself and the only time he had was during nights.

When he was ready for bed, he felt a huge amount of relief to be getting into bed after a long but grateful day, and he picked up his phone and clicked on your message thread. The last time you two texted was a few weeks after the breakup, asking if you were doing okay, and he could practically feel the awkward tension through the texts as he reread them. But he was glad that this time would be a much lighter and better conversation.

Hi, Y/N. Hope this is the right number still. But if it is, kids are on board for tomorrow. Does 12:30 work for you? We could meet at the usual park. If it’s not Y/N, please don’t meet at the usual park because the kids are not on board.

You chuckled at the end of his text, happy to see that Harry is always trying to make jokes and be the comedian.

Hi, Harry! Don’t worry, this is Y/N. Probably would have hunted the person with my number down to get tomorrow’s plans. But that sounds perfect! I can't wait to see the kids tomorrow. See you then!

Harry softly smiled at his phone, not feeling the need to respond and figured he would talk to you a lot more tomorrow while the kids are playing. He stared at the message for quite some time, completely blank as he couldn’t believe the chances that he happened to see you at the shop six months after the breakup, and now he’s making plans with you tomorrow; his jaw was aching from smiling so much.

A few minutes later, he put his phone away to change before he comfortably situated himself under the blanket, feeling the heaviness of his eyes. But once he felt himself starting to drift away into dreamland, his phone buzzed on his nightstand, and he tried his best to ignore it, but curiosity got the best of him, so he picked up his phone and opened the new message.

And I can’t wait to see you tomorrow too.

And just like that, Harry was wide awake, struggling to sleep, but a smile permanently etched on his face for the night.

The day that everyone in the Styles’ household had been waiting for had finally arrived. Luckily, the kids had gotten their needed hours of sleep; Harry had only gotten a few hours of sleep, but when the sun seeped through his curtains, he didn’t dread getting up for the day. Instead, he felt a rush of eagerness, instantly remembering what the day held for him and his kids, and he jumped right out of bed.

Once the four of them were out of the house, Harry had successfully fed, cleaned, and changed his children with no complaints. The house and car ride was filled with conversations about how excited they were to see you again, asking how many more hours there was until they got to see you and if they were almost at the park.

Screams bounced off the roof of the car once Harry parked on the side of the curb; the twins had already taken their seatbelts off, getting antsy as they waited for their dad to open the car from the outside. Harry unbuckled Rory, carrying him until he rounded on the other side of the car to open the door for the twins. They quickly jumped out, clearly excited, but Harry did not forget to remind them that this was still a public area and anything could happen.

“Girls, slow down, please.” Estelle was holding Harry’s hand as Mira was holding her sister’s; Harry was still carrying Rory in his arms because his sister’s were practically lugging Harry with all their might, trying to get to their usual spot, so he didn’t want Rory to get hurt. “Loves, you know Y/N would tell you the exact same thing. Please, just slow down for me.” He pulled the Y/N card on them, knowing that they were better listeners with you than they are with him.

Once they were all close enough, they spotted a thick beige blanket under the tree with a picnic basket, and you sitting on top of it, setting everything up.

“Y/N!” The girls both screamed, Estelle letting go of Harry’s hand as they both ran towards you.

You looked up at the sound of your name, eyes brightening at the little girls running. “My Princesses! Hi, my loves!” You opened your arms widely, inviting the twins into your arms— they practically collided into your arms, making you fall onto your back since you didn’t get the chance to stand up—and embracing them with a big hug. Laughs came out of all of your mouths as wide smiles permanently stayed on your faces. “Oh, I missed you two so much!” You kissed both of their cheeks, making them giggle. You stood up, helping the girls up and brushed their clothes off with your hand from the grass. Harry and Rory were in sight, and Harry put the little boy down, making Rory run towards you. “My sweetheart, oh, you’ve gotten so big.” You hugged Rory to your chest, placing your hand behind his head as your other arm wrapped around his small body.

You were glad that Rory still had some memory of you, and didn’t shy away behind his father’s leg. You placed soft kisses on his cheeks, taking in his baby scent that you always loved.

After Rory was starting to fuss in your arms, most likely due to feeling overwhelmed from the lack of space, you let go of him before standing up.

“Hi, Y/N,” Harry greeted, offering a hug, which you gladly took.

You rubbed his back. “Hi, Harry. I’m so glad I’m here with you all.” You pulled away, smiling at him. Harry’s heart pounded against his chest at the sight of you smiling up at him. His heart did a backflip at the sight of your gorgeous smile, trickling all the way down to his stomach where it triggered the butterflies to release from the net.

“Please, we were all really excited to see you. So, thank you for agreeing.” His hand innocently ran down your arm, sending shivers down your spine.

You turned around to look at the kids who were making themselves comfortable on the blanket. You and Harry joined them as you sat in between Estelle and Rory, and Harry sat in between Mira and Rory.

“Okay, so I made some sandwiches. You all still like grilled cheese, right?” You hoped, and the twins nodded; you turned towards Rory. “What about you, sweet pea? Grilled cheese?” At the sound of cheese, Rory nodded his head and clapped his hands, making you smile.

Harry was so lost in his mind and heart that he was simply so distracted in helping you out as you unwrapped the sandwiches from the foil, putting them on a paper plate. He was just so fond of watching you interact with his children so naturally, like there was no time that was wasted when you and Harry were apart. And he was especially happy that the kids still loved you just as much as they did when you two were together; and how they still kept talking about you despite the breakup.

Aside from you and Harry, the kids had taken the breakup the hardest. From the knowledge they had based on what Harry and Laurie told them, they understood that their mommy and daddy couldn’t be together anymore due to adult reasons; it took them a while to adjust to that, but they eventually managed and figured it was better and more fun. But when Harry had to break the news on why they wouldn’t be seeing their ‘Pretty Fairy Second Mom’ anymore, they took it harder than expected. They simply looked at it as you didn’t want to see them anymore, which wasn’t the case at all, Harry explained.

“Sometimes adults need to take some time apart, loves. That does not mean that Y/N doesn’t love you anymore because she does very much, I can tell you that. But it's good to have some time to yourself, especially in a relationship.”

“But daddy, I thought you were gonna be together forever with Y/N,” Estelle spoke up, tears in her eyes. He was lucky that his kids loved you so much, and he never doubted that they weren’t going to. But his fear had come true when you two called it quits and he had to tell them the truth.

“And maybe we will, but as for right now, it’s best to be apart. Sometimes being apart saves the relationship rather than letting it burn,” he told them honestly, which was the best as he could explain it.

“D-Does Y/N still love you?” Mira asked softly. It wasn’t like Mira to be so soft spoken, which meant that the breakup had affected her deeply.

Harry sighed, grabbing both of their small hands. “She does,” he replied for the sake of more tears coming out of their eyes—plus, he was taking your word for it back at the cafe. “And she also loves you all so much too,” he reminded them again. What he really wanted to say was that maybe one day you two will get back together, but he really didn’t want to get their hopes up.

Looking back on his conversation from half a year ago, he was glad that he told them the truth on why you two broke up. He didn’t want to confuse his children even further, making them completely oblivious to the situation—he just wanted to be honest with them because he hoped you two would meet again and get back together at some point.

“Harry, would you like one?” You asked, bringing Harry back out of his thoughts. He smiled, nodding, not trusting his voice to speak; and you gladly handed him a plate with a sandwich, pouring some chips onto the side—his favorite chips, you still remembered.

“Thank you.” He smiled softly. The corners of your lips turned up as you bashfully looked at the picnic basket in front of you. You placed Rory’s plate in front of him as he seemed to have crawled to sit closer to you, and you cut out his sandwich into small pieces, along with cutting his grapes in half. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” He stopped you from what you were doing, ready to take Rory from your side as he didn’t want you to feel obligated to take care of him.

“Oh, if you don’t want me to, that’s fine. But I wouldn’t mind feeding him a bit.”

“If you want to.”

You gave him the sweetest grin, and Harry was lucky to be sitting down because his knees would give out on him if he were standing. “I want to.” He only nodded, a crimson color laid on his cheeks.

Harry comfortably watched as you made conversation with the twins as you fed Rory. You always gave them your undivided attention; your expression always lit up everytime they talked about something they were passionate about or interested in, and it just made Harry fall even more with how you were always so supportive in what his kids loved. You were always uplifting them, never dragging their hopes and dreams down.

After everyone was finished with their meals and had time to digest their food, the twins asked if they could go on the swings and Harry said yes. The tree that they were under was only a few feet away, so Harry had a clear view of his girls.

“You’re, like, a magician.” Harry suddenly said, breaking the silence once the girls were safely on the swing.

You chuckled. “How’s that?”

“It’s like hiring a magician at a party—everyone is so excited to see what they do and see them in general—you’re like that; the girls and Rory were so excited to see you.”

You playfully gasped, holding Rory to your chest. “You were excited to see me? Well, I was excited to see you!” You booped his nose, making Rory giggle.

“Fairy!” He exclaimed, and you and Harry laughed. Rory was a quiet two-year-old, but he picked up on keywords that he repeatedly said.

“So, are you seeing anyone?” You cut to the chase, skipping the small talk.

Harry chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Nope. Not entirely sure if anyone wants to date a thirty-four-year-old with three kids.”

You raised your brows in shock, and he knew that look you’re giving him very well—prepared to tease him; even though you weren’t that much younger than him either. “What? Do you think no one wants to date a hot dad? Harry, you’re peak-dilf, everyone wants to date you.”

“And what about you? Do you wanna date me? A dilf?” He teased; a smirk that you knew all too well appeared on his face, making you want to kiss it off, which was what you used to do.

Pursing your lips and cheeks heating up, you gave him an obvious look before you said, “Think you know the answer to that one, baby.” In all honesty, the pet name had slipped, and for a brief moment your eyes widened at the realization, but you brushed it off and continued with your confident and teasing attitude; and it worked quite well on Harry because he definitely heard what you used to call him loud and clear. It made his heart flutter as he missed you calling him that; he never wanted to hear that name come out of anyone else’s mouth because only yours would do it justice.

Harry was left to ponder about your response before you changed the subject, talking to Rory. “Sweets, do you wanna go on the slide?” The little boy jumped up and down, pulling your arm as he had a big smile on his face. You looked at Harry, and he gave you a nod, telling you that he would stay put and watch your belongings.

You and Rory walked hand in hand, or more like hand and finger, to the slide. It was an open purple slide with two sides, and it lasted about two seconds if you slid correctly and if the slide was slippery enough. You helped Rory step onto the playground as the dull metal steps were quite high for him to reach on his own before you guided him towards the slide.

Sitting down at the top and on the edge of the slide, you carried Rory into your lap, hyping him up for what he had been waiting for. “Ready, sweets? Are you ready?” Your tone was pure excitement as you squeezed and tickled his belly.

“Go, Y/N, go!” Directed Rory, and you scooted forward and held onto the sweet boy in your arms tightly as you two slid down the slide. Mouthfuls of squealing screams and giggles came from Rory’s mouth as he clapped his hands towards the end of the slide, causing you to cheer as well.

And the proper dad that he was, Harry clicked the red button on the screen to stop recording you and Rory from the slide. He zoomed in, capturing the bright smiles placed on his sweet boy’s and the love of his life’s face, screenshotting the perfect frame. He didn’t think the day could have gone any better than this; it was quite the perfect day, he thought.

When it was rounding two in the afternoon, Rory’s eyes were starting to droop, exhaustion taking over him from running around for almost an hour that his little body couldn’t keep up, so a nap was in his favor. He lazily looked up at you, reaching his arms up for you to carry him, which you happily held him. He settled his head on your shoulder, and it only took a few kisses and back rubs for him to be out like a light while the sun still shined in his face.

You walked over to the blanket, figuring it was time to call it a day at the park; Harry and the twins were running around nearby on the bedded grass area playing tag. They retreated to the blanket once they saw you with Rory in your arms, breaths heavy from their run.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet boy.” Harry sighed when he got to spot under the tree; you handed Rory to him, admiring the two boys cuddling as Harry pressed quiet and soft kisses to his son’s head. Since your lap was available, Estelle and Mira took the chance to finally be able to properly cuddle you since Rory was taking most of your attention. The girls took one leg each, and you wrapped your arms around their waist, kissing their shoulder.

The five of you stayed put for a while, calming down under the breezy weather that had started to pick up until it got even colder was when Harry decided it was time to leave. Luckily the girls were still awake to help with cleaning up, and were rather helpful because Harry was trying his best with Rory situated on one side of his body.

Once all of you were next to your cars, Harry placed Rory in his car seat as you were hugging the girls goodbye. You and Harry agreed that everyone was too tired to go out for some ice cream since all the twins wanted to do was lie down. Harry knew he didn’t want the day to end, even though it was still quite early, but the older he got, the tougher it was to keep up with his little children who just loved running around; a relaxing and peaceful night was calling him.

“Hey.” Harry closed the passenger door before he rounded the car to meet you on the grass. “I know we talked about going for ice cream today, but it seemed like we’re all too tired, but I was wondering…” he paused for a moment, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. “Would you like to come over? Maybe…for dinner, or to have a glass or w-water?” He scratched the back of his neck, nerves getting the best of him.

You smiled, thinking he was the absolute cutest when he was flustered. “Harry, I’d love to. Feels like I haven’t drank any water so I’m parched,” you teased.

He breathed out a laugh. “Okay, uh, I’ll see you home.” He gave you another smile before walking away and inside of his car, completely unaware of his choice of words.

Home. More specifically, Harry’s home. It was a place that made you feel safe, and if you’re being honest, it’s been too long since you’d had complete solace.

Your mental pep-talk throughout the drive toward Harry’s had helped in some way. Keeping it simple without driving your mind into overthinking every single thought, you laid it all down as if you were planning and preparing a business proposal.

You didn’t want to dive deep into what Harry’s invitation could entail—more like you didn’t want to get your hopes up on if you two were to get back together because the potential rejection you could face would absolutely crush you. Harry’s a kind and sweet guy, he’s simply inviting a friend over for a drink and dinner, if you could even call yourself that. Plus, it was still early to fully call it a day, and he planned for ice cream after the park, so he was fulfilling that promise of sweet dessert.

Without realizing, you’d been sitting in your car for a solid five minutes, staring over your steering wheel as you were parked on the curb in front of Harry’s house. Harry’s car was already in the driveway, so they were just waiting on you.

You walked towards the front door, and it swung open before you even got the chance to knock.

“Hey, thought you’d change your mind when you weren’t getting out of the car,” Harry joked, although that thought really crossed his mind when he peeked out through the window and saw you still in your car.

You chuckled nervously. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t.” You stepped inside his house, and a wave of nostalgia rushed through you as if you were at the beach and the harsh current knocked you over as you were trying to walk against the sandy wind.

Everything still looked the same—the same since the night you left without another word to the kids, just a note to Harry telling you to meet at the shop. A pinch of guilt appeared in your face as you frowned, and Harry immediately took notice, but you waved it off as you slightly smiled, telling him that you two would talk later. He didn’t press any further, waiting until later or when you were ready. Instead, he asked if you wanted anything to drink, to which he already knew you’d go for a class of Cabernet, and luckily, he had some in stock—more like, he still had the untouched bottle for when you stayed over.

The two of you leaned against the cold granite counter as music softly played on the speaker that was connected through Bluetooth on his phone. Conversations were light, but it wasn’t awkward in any sense. As a matter of fact, it felt just like old times when you would stay over his house, talking about each other’s day and simply enjoying the presence of one another. That’s what you think this was, you thought—enjoying the fact that Harry was in front of you after so many months and you were cherishing it until the next set of months went by.

After a few conversations and sips of wine later, the time had gone by fairly fast, which always happened when you were with him, and it was nearing five. The kids had woken up from their nap at four and quietly settled in the living room—the twins on the couch in front of the television and Rory was on the padded mat playing with his toys, occasionally talking to his sisters. Harry asked if you would be okay watching them so he could make dinner, and you were close to reminding him that he didn’t need to ask to watch his kids, but then again, you had to remind yourself that things were a bit different now. So, you said that you didn’t mind and walked over to the sofa chair next to the couch and watched TV with the girls as well as play with Rory.

Twenty-five minutes had gone by and Harry called everyone, announcing that dinner was ready. You all walked into the dining room, taking your seats. Your assigned seat was next to Rory’s chair, which was in between you and Harry; the girls were sitting across from you. Once everyone took several bites of Harry’s dinner--a quick fettuccine alfredo--the chatter was back. You enthusiastically listened to the girls and Rory talk; it made Harry smile, loving how natural everything felt.

Estelle tapped Harry’s shoulder, making him turn towards her with a smile on his face. “What is it, sunshine?” She got off her chair, leaning over to whisper something into his ear and he smiled, turning back to his family who was curious as to what Estelle had said. “Go ahead and ask her, love.”

You put down your fork and placed your arms on the table. “What’s up, Princess?”

“Uh, c-can we go to that place?”

“What place is that?” You asked curiously.

“That place where you told Daddy you loved him,” she responded quite bashfully. Your mouth was slightly open, not expecting her to say what she did. Looking over at Harry, he simply had a soft smile on his face with his brows raised, shrugging his shoulders.

Did you want to go back there? The answer was a simple yes. There wasn’t any excuse that you could possibly make up on the spot as to why you couldn’t go there, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad place whenever you thought about it. In fact, you really missed going over there and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t think about that place often.

Your head turned towards Estelle. “Sure, why not. How about we go tomorrow?” You asked everyone, and they all had smiles on their faces. You looked at Harry, directly asking him for permission. “Is that okay?” His elbow was resting against the arm of the brown chair, fingers placed under his lips as he slightly puckered his soft and pink lips; without looking under the table, you knew his legs were crossed. Harry smiled, nodding his head, and everyone cheered.

The rest of the time everyone was sitting at the dinner table, you all talked about plans for tomorrow, and everyone was really excited. Once it was almost eight, Harry realized that it was almost their bedtime, so he hurried them up the stairs to get ready for bed before saying goodnight to you, getting in as many hugs and kisses as they could get.

Harry was upstairs, changing Rory and putting him to bed before he walked down and found you in the kitchen washing dishes. He slipped past you, placing his hand along your lower back briefly before he grabbed the dish rag. The action sent a chill down your spine and you immediately missed his hands on you.

“The kids seem really excited about tomorrow.” Harry broke the silence, glancing over at you as you continued to wash the dishes.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m really excited too.”

Harry noticed the slight shortness, and he thought it may be because you were tired. “Hey, are you okay?”

You turned off the water and faced him, crossing your arms as he did the same.

“Do the kids hate me?” The corner of his lips turned up before he started laughing, clutching his stomach. If it were any other time, you would obsess over his laugh; it was music to your ears, the highlight of your day, and the sun when it’s bright out. You softly slapped his arm. “Harry! I’m being serious!”

“Darling, you’re joking, right?” Your heart briefly fluttered at his nickname for you. “Those kids love you!” He noticed your change of attitude and that you’d been thinking about this for a while and beating yourself up over it.

“It’s just…I don’t want them to think that we broke up and I forgot about them. I mean I understand if they see it that way because I left without saying another word for six months--didn’t even get to say goodbye to them and have a proper talk. I just don’t want them to hate me.” You looked down at your feet as you played with the thin silver band on your middle finger.

Harry’s seen you in work mode, and it reeks confidence and power. You don’t need much reassurance during work unless it’s when your employees tell you that progress is moving along. But this was completely different; you needed all the reassurance that you could get to get it through your head that the kids that you’d come to love--from the moment you met them--don’t hate you. And Harry didn’t mind telling you over and over again.

“They were just that we split up, that’s all. But they quickly understood why.”

“What’d you tell them?” You asked curiously.

“The truth--that sometimes it’s better to be apart for a while rather than drive ourselves crazy. Told them that when the time is right, then maybe we’ll get back together.” The look in his eyes was so comforting that you immediately fell into them. Harry was always the best with giving you that extra reassurance that you and his kids need.

You felt the extra beat in your chest that pumped so harshly against your chest, but it was surrounded by butterflies, making it flutter throughout your body. As you looked so deeply into Harry’s beautiful green eyes, you realized one of two things; the first thing was that you never wanted to look so deeply into another person’s eyes unless it was Harry’s; and the second thing was that you were incredibly and overwhelmingly still in love with this man and his three children, and there hadn’t been a day that gone by where you weren’t.

Taking a deep breath, itches were crawling up your skin, begging you to say something. “D-Do you think it’s time?” Your voice asked shyly.

Harry was taken back by your question as he raised his brows. He couldn’t deny the nerves that he felt whenever he was around you, but your question seemed to have increased his nervousness.

“We’ve been separated for what feels like a long time now.” He paused, taking a deep breath as he recouped his thoughts to say the right words. “I think-”

“Daddy?” Yours and Harry’s head whipped towards the staircase, finding Estelle at the bottom of it with groggy eyes.

Harry walked towards his sunshine. “What is it, my love?” He kneeled down onto the bottom step, matching her height. Estelle told him that she couldn’t sleep, and that she’s been tossing and turning for a while, so Harry told her that he would lay with her until she fell asleep and carried her to her bedroom. He looked back at you as he was walking up the steps, and you gave him a soft smile, letting him know that it was completely okay.

You finished tidying up the kitchen, wiping down the counters and cleaning the dining table until you realized that you needed to get ready for tomorrow’s adventure.

Once Harry came down the stairs, he found you sitting on the edge of the armchair with your purse on your shoulder; you looked up as he walked up to you.

“I’m gonna head out.”

Harry’s slightly frowned. “Oh, you can stay the night if you want to.”

“No, it’s okay, thanks.” You really did want to stay the night, but you didn’t have a change of clothes for tomorrow. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning.” He nodded, walking you to the door, opening it for you.

You stepped out on his doorstep, turning around as you wrapped your arm around his waist, tiptoeing to plant a kiss to his cheek. The slightest bit of touch from your lips sent Harry’s skin on fire, warming up to the affection. The touch was sent away too quickly as you let go of him completely, giving him one last smile before walking to your car and waving at him as you drove away.

Harry closed the door, the palm of his hand cupped the cheek that you kissed and he sighed as if he was shot with Cupid’s love-arrow, and he wouldn’t mind it if it meant he would feel your affection every single day.

You arrived at the Styles household at ten in the morning with a tote-full of snacks and water, knowing the kids would get hungry from all the walking. You got there forty-five minutes earlier than planned, knowing that the Styles family wouldn’t be out the door right on time because Harry has three kids, two of them who bicker and complain from time to time—especially when they’re sleepy—and a two-year-old who was starting to run away from everything. So, you figured Harry would appreciate your help.

When Harry saw you standing on his doorstep, he let out a sigh of relief. He was still in his striped pajamas pants and a white t-shirt, holding a small pair of olive green pants. You walked in and saw Rory running around half naked, despite it being early in the morning. You told Harry that he could shower and get ready for the day, and to leave it to you because you’ll handle it—plus, you both knew that the kids often listened to you more than their own dad. He smiled appreciatively, kissing your head briefly before walking up the stairs and getting ready.

Once Rory saw you, he stopped running around the house and instead, ran towards you and into your arms. You carried him up the stairs and to his room to get some clothes on him, and luckily, Harry was able to bathe him before you showed up. You gave him his favorite toy to fumble with before you walked into Mira's room, setting Rory on her twin bed before helping her get ready. You left Rory in Mira’s room and went to Estelle’s bedroom, doing the same.

By the time Harry walked downstairs, you and the three kids were sitting on the couch, eating a banana. He smiled, slowing his steps as he was amazed at the quietness and stillness in the house, but then again, he wasn’t that amazed because he knew you’d come in and get things in order.

Harry’s home was a two minute walk to the train station, and everyone decided to take the train since it was what you and Harry did when you two were dating, and the kids really wanted to walk through the entire path of their father’s love story.

Luckily, there weren’t that many people on the train—it was practically empty—so they didn’t have to rush to get a spot for the kids. Rory sat in the middle of his sisters as they all smiled brightly towards Harry’s phone that was capturing the adorable children for a sweet memory sake. You and Harry were standing, making sure neither of the kids fell over if the train made a halting stop. You held onto the metal bar above you, Harry held the bar that was mounted into the floor, and you both watched the kids interact with one another—counting on their fingers, booping one another’s noses, and laughing; it was every parent’s dream.

Without noticing, Harry moved closer to you, placing his hand directly next to yours; the side of your hand touched his, and you looked at him with wide eyes while your heart fluttered. You were hip to hip, and you saw the smirk he had on his face while occasionally glancing over at you. You couldn’t help the heat that rose onto your cheeks because it felt like old times when you two used to ride the train together and it would get too packed to where you had to stand up; he would always face you as your hands touched—sometimes he would even intertwine your fingers together while you two held the bar as you were one—and he would hover over you, giving you plentiful kisses like the true romantic that he was.

The train ride took about 30 minutes and it was a two minute walk to the place that gave you so many happy memories and nostalgia—International Rose Test Garden was where the memories of you and Harry were stored.

You had the girls on either side of you, holding their hands; and Harry carried Rory since he was likely to run around and Harry didn’t want to risk his safety.

The sun was bright—beautiful for a day in the garden as the roses and flowers bloomed ever so widely. All of you walked the rows and rows of flowers, occasionally taking pictures in front of the rose bushes.

Remembering all the times you and Harry were hand in hand, laughing until your stomachs were sore, like you did an intense ab workout, and there were tears resting in the outer corner of your eyes. All the memories that were swirling around in your head made you come to the conclusion to one thing: you never want to be without Harry and his kids ever again.

You don’t know how it took you so long to realize this, maybe it was seeing them for the first time in six months that you realized that you had it great—a small family that accepted you and loved you for who you were, and you loved them just the same.

Harry walked beside you, the kids skipping and playing around in the grass in front of you two. Confidently, you slipped your hand into Harry’s ringed hand, immediately intertwining your fingers together as if your hand knew what it was missing. Harry briefly looked down before looking at you. He smiled, and turned his head back towards the kids, not making a big deal of it as his warm hand accepted the coldness of yours.

You gently tugged against his arm, pulling him back as he came face to face with you; a quiet gasp came out of his mouth when doing so. You looked up at him with bright eyes, and Harry was taken back to a year and a half ago where you, coincidentally, were in this same spot on the very green patch of grass.

“Harry…” you breathed out, looking down at your feet nervously. He made the bold move to step closer to you, chests almost touching. Harry lifted your chin up with his fingers, locking eyes with you so intently that you practically lost your breath.

“What is it?” He whispered.

Taking a deep breath, you said, “I-I realized something.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

Glancing over at the kids, they were giving you big smiles and thumbs up for reassurance, and your heart swooned at their support and love they provided you to finally get back together with their father, even if you weren’t their biological mother.

You looked back at Harry, who was waiting patiently. “I love you. I still do and never stopped.” Harry felt like he stopped breathing at that moment. “You make me so happy—you and the kids, and I don’t want to be without you all anymore. I-I don’t like how it’s only taken me this much time to tell you this, but it felt like the perfect time since this was the place where I first told you I loved you.”

Harry smiled, taking your hands into his. His thumbs smoothed your skin on the back of your hand before he brought them up to his lips and kissed them so delicately. The action made you smile softly before your mind had switched it to thinking that it was affection before the rejection.

But then he opened his mouth to speak such beautiful words that you had been aching to hear during the breakup.

“You’re my everything. I truly don’t know what I’d do without you because you. You’re part of my source of happiness, and life didn’t feel the same without you—the kids could agree with me on that.” He chuckled, looking at them to find them holding hands and jumping around in circles. “But I know that we separated for the better only for us to come back stronger than ever, and I’m never gonna let go of you again, okay?”

Tears pricked your eyes before they streamed down your cheeks. Your heart felt like it was pounding harder than ever, but it was filled with so much love from and for this man in front of you.

Harry wiped away your tears, leaning in to kiss your forehead, down to your eyelids as he kissed your tears away. He pulled away and you opened your eyes, giving each other a relieved and happy smile.

“I love you,” he said, and he swore he saw the brightest smile he’s ever seen—brighter than the sun. “Always have and always will.”

“And I love you. C-Can you kiss me, please?”

Harry grinned. “It would be an honor.”

Placing his palms on the side of your face, he leaned his forehead against yours. Your hands were wrapped around his wrists, rubbing his skin softly. With a smile, he kissed you with such softness and passion that the flowers bloomed largely and the sun shined ever so brightly. The kids cheered and clapped, making bystanders think that you’d just gotten engaged, but you both knew that would be the next step. Your stomach was in knots, butterflies surrounding your body as he captured your lips with his. Hugging Harry’s waist, you pulled him closer and wrapped your arms around him, and he kissed you harder, effortlessly moving his lips in sync with yours as if he was a pro on kissing you, which he was.

Harry pulled away first, giving you several pecks before opening his eyes. “God, I missed doing that. Missed you so much, darling.”

“I missed you too, baby.” You were high on happiness, high on love. “I’m sorry it took us this long.” A slight frown appeared on your face, but Harry kissed it away.

“Hey, hey. None of that. I would’ve loved you until the end of time. I don’t care how long it took, you’re my forever,” he vowed, not planning to break that promise.

Missing his lips on yours, you leaned up to kiss him again while your arms were wrapped around his neck and his were around your waist, holding you tightly as if he was afraid you’d run off.

Suddenly, you started giggling into the kiss, making Harry smile before he pulled away.

“What’s so funny?” He asked. You started thinking about the conversation from the park when you asked him if he was seeing someone.

You curled in your lips before you said, “You’re a literal dilf, and I’m so in love with you.”

please tell me all of your thoughts, feelings, favorite moments and scenes! thank you for reading <3

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles reader insert #harry styles au #dad!harry #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine

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supernovafics · 3 years ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change.

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

#dylan o’brien #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o'brien x y/n #dylan o'brien x fem!reader #dylan o'brien gifs

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