#AFY fic

[callsignspark]

anything for you | part two

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x Rebecca Hermann (fem!OC)

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, implied violence against women/children, discussions of murder (nothing explicit/gory), inaccuracies about hotel ownership, implied child neglect, descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks, discussion of insecurities, eventual smut, warnings to be added as needed 

word count: 5.5k

series masterlist | main masterlist

note: here's part two, thank you to everyone who read the first part and left such kind comments - you're all so lovely!

Thursday, June 22, 2023 | San Diego, CA | 1332 PST

“When you asked if I was free for lunch, I thought this was going to be a fun, sexy thing.”

“And you thought garlic-and-onion-filled gyros were the appropriate pairing for a sexy lunch?” She snorts, rolling her eyes when he keeps talking, ignoring her teasing.

“I wouldn’t have said yes and ordered your favorite-” Jake pauses to shove a huge bite into his mouth “-if I knew you were just going to torture me with this stuff.”

“That’s disgusting, don’t talk with your mouth full.” Rebecca looks at him with disdain when he opens his mouth to show off his half-chewed food. “How you were voted California’s most eligible bachelor eight years in a row is a complete mystery to me.”

“I never had lunch with the selection committee.”

She smiles at his joke, then straightens up, getting down to the matter at hand. “So, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I don’t care what color our napkins are.” He groans, flopping back into the loveseat where they’re sharing lunch.

“Well, neither do I!” She huffs, flapping the fabric samples toward his face. “Pick one: pearl white or ivory cream.”

“Those look fucking identical.”

“They basically are.”

“So why does it matter?”

“Because Michelle needs an answer today on what we want for the reception, so please pick one.”

“I want whatever you want, darling.” Her blood heats up; the combination of the condescending pet name and how attractive he manages to be while lounging on the uncomfortable corporate-chic cushions is practically lethal.

She practically whines his name, tired of the back and forth on a conversation they’d already had three times. “Stop being a patronizing dickhead and just pick one of the nearly identical napkin options.”

“The right one.”

“Perfect, a fantastic choice.” She tosses the samples on the table and pulls out her phone to text the decision to their wedding planner. “You know, it would be nice if you would help make some of the real decisions for this wedding, too.”

“But you’re doing such a great job! And besides, I’m giving valu-”

“If you say, “valuable input on the honeymoon” one more time, I will sit on you and shove that salad down your throat, I swear to god, Jacob.”

“You say that like I wouldn’t enjoy it.”

“Keep it up, and I’ll shove more than just the salad.”

He sits up, a huge grin lighting up his face. “Wow! You are so feisty today, Mrs. Seresin!”

“I’m not Mrs. Seresin yet; you pompous, jacka-” Her joking tirade is cut off by his desk phone.

“Honey, as much as I love it when you’re mean to me, gonna need you to hold onto that thought. I told Ginger to hold all calls while you were here unless it was an emergency.” He hustles to his desk, brushing his fingers against her cheek as he passes. “This is Jake Ser- okay. Okay, hold on, sweetheart, she’s right here. Just a second.”

He waves her over as he holds the receiver away from his mouth, “It’s your sister, and she’s crying.”

“What?!” She trips getting up, her mind immediately going to the worst-case scenario. “Delilah? Are you okay? What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“Th-they-they aren’t-t-t…”

“Try to breathe, honey. Are you okay? Can you tell me if you’re hurt?”

“N-not hurt.” It’s a relief to hear, but Delilah’s breathing is too unstable to be comfortable.

“Alright, okay. It’s okay. I’m right here. Don’t want to trigger an asthma attack, so we’re gonna take deep breaths together, okay? Just like we used to when you were little.” The sisters breathe together, the older one making sure her inhales and exhales are loud enough for the younger one to hear over the phone.

It takes a few minutes, but Delilah’s breathing starts to level out. “Thanks, Becca.”

“Of course, kiddo. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“My academic awards ceremony is tonight, and I’m probably getting a big math award, but Dad just called me to tell me that they’re not gonna make it because it’s Mom’s birthday! They’re going to dinner and then to the bars with the guys from Dad’s crew! Can you believe it?” Her voice is weak but borderline shrill. “It’s my senior year – the last big thing besides graduation – and they’re not coming!”

The last three words send Rebecca’s mind into a spiral. All the times she had heard that exact phrase and then been the one to care for her sister flashing through her mind. At seventeen, being forced to be a primary caretaker to an infant Delilah during the limited free time she had in between school and work. At twenty-eight, and parenting her preteen sister because her biological parents decided to go on a month-long trip to the Caribbean. Every time they had deemed something else more important than their child. The countless volleyball and softball games missed, cash wasted on tickets for the school musical, parent-teacher conferences that were straight-up ignored half the time. When Rebecca was younger, she would mourn the gas money burned and the free time stolen as she acted as a personal assistant and valet to her sister, driving back and forth to practices, dentist appointments, dance classes, play rehearsals, haircuts, anything that Delilah needed. Looking back now, she was grateful they had gotten to spend that time together.

“We’ll be there.” She interrupts without thinking.

“You will?” Delilah’s voice is soft but pleased. The intention of her call was just to vent to her big sister, let out the frustration of being ignored again by her parents. “You don’t have to. I know you’re both busy.”

“Never too busy for you, babe. What time does it start? Do you want a ride?” She sinks into the desk chair, crossing her legs and leaning back, hoping the pressure building behind her eyes doesn’t turn into a full-blown migraine.

Rebecca can feel Jake hovering before he squats next to the chair. She ignores him in favor of letting the now happy voice of her sister wash over her. It’s a solid plan until a large hand lands on her thigh. His palm is warm where it lays against her skin, and his fingers gently rub the material of her skirt, letting her know he’s there. She turns her head to the right and peeks an eye open, watching him watch her.

“Is she hurt?” He mouths the question, looking relieved after she shakes her head.

She hesitates for a second before putting her hand on his, rubbing her thumb along the back of his hand in thanks. Jake takes the opportunity to hold her hand, playfully squeezing her fingers a few times, a ghost of a smile on his face. The sisters talk a bit more, confirming plans for the evening and saying “I love you” before hanging up. Rebecca drops the receiver into its cradle and leans back, looking at the ceiling. The office is quiet, the clock on the wall making the only noise in the otherwise silent room.

“Since we’re not preparing to storm Normandy, I take it everything is okay now?” She hums in confirmation, still staring at the ceiling. “What happened?”

“They’re not coming.”

There’s something about the way she says it – voice hollow, emotionless – that sets warning bells off in his head, but he still asks, “Who?”

“Fucking Seymour and Brittany.” She starts pacing. “It’s Brittany’s birthday, so they’ve decided that it’s not necessary to attend Delilah’s academic awards ceremony. Her senior year academic awards ceremony. Her last one. Where – because of her intelligence, hard work, and high academic ranking – it’s extremely likely that she’ll be receiving a boatload of awards. My father called her and told her they weren’t going to make it because they’re going out to dinner and then drinking with those idiots that hang around him! As if they couldn’t do that after the awards are over! It starts at six, and it’ll be like, at a maximum, an hour and a half!”

Jake stares in shock at the woman trying to wear a hole into his carpet. It wasn’t uncommon for her to curse or to be louder than usual when joking around, but the last time, the only time, he had seen Rebecca raise her voice in anger was that fateful night in February when she reamed him out after breaking into her house. Since then, her demeanor has matched the woman she had always been known to be. A kind and thoughtful person with a quieter disposition, one that hid a tough side she brought out only when needed, and a wit sharp enough to cut glass. Her voice is scathing, decades' worth of built-up frustration and resentment being released, and it freezes him in place.

“It’s just so unfair! I know they don’t like me, that I’m the “black sheep” of the family, or whatever the latest lame-ass attempt at an insult my father has taken to calling me. I don’t care about that. I worked my ass off junior and senior year to get a good scholarship, and I did. I practically put in full-time hours to save up enough to get out of that fucking house, and I did! The day after my eighteenth birthday, I packed up that crappy Camry – that I bought with my own money! – and moved into that sketchy apartment with five roommates. I worked hard to be the “outcast” of that family! I escaped, and they don’t like that, and that’s fine. I don’t need them to like me!”

Her voice was getting louder, the pacing and hand gestures more frenzied. She could feel her blood pressure rising, but she couldn’t stop. She hadn’t been this mad in years. She actually couldn’t remember the last time she was this angry.

“But it’s not fair that Delilah is treated like that! Like some show pony they can trot out when it pleases them. I know she’s the kid that was created on purpose, and I was the mistake no one wanted, but they just show her off like she’s some shiny object! Bragging about how smart she is and her amazing grades, her talent and how she gets cast in lead roles in the school plays and musicals, her athletic prowess, and how she definitely could have gone D1 if she wanted. But she doesn’t want to because she’s going to dedicate herself to helping others – something they know nothing about – but, of course, none of that actually matters to them! I can count on two hands the number of things they’ve actually showed up in the last eighteen years and still have fingers left over! And the worst part is she still believes they’re going to show up! That they’re suddenly going to give a damn about anything she does. That they’re going to treat her as more than a way for them to make themselves look better. And she doesn’t have anyone else because the only other family left is our grandfather, and it would take a fucking miracle for him to show up to an event where there’s even the slightest possibility that his son might be there. There’s no one else, so I said we’d g- oh my god.”

She stops on a dime, turning on her heel to Jake, who was shaken out of his stupor after the third curse word and now is staring in disbelief at his fiancé. “I said we’d go. You don’t have to go. I’m sorry I said you were coming without checking first-”

“I want to go.”

“-I just got caught up in the moment and didn’t think about it. You don’t have to-” His words register. “What?”

“I said it’s okay that you RSVP’d yes for me; I want to go.”

“You don’t have to. It’s not your sister.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I’m aware of that. Otherwise, this engagement would be kinda awkward. And illegal.”

“What?” The joke goes over her head; she’s only half paying attention, her body still on a high from anger and the adrenaline rush that hit when she heard her sister crying.

“Because if she was my sister, then we’d be related, which is illegal or at the very least frowned upon…” He trails off, realizing he’s not getting through. “Wow, that really got to you, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m used to their bullshit; I usually don’t get so mad. But hearing her cry on the phone like that, she was practically hyperventilating when you answe- wait. How did Delilah even get through?”

“I put her on the allowed caller list.”

“You did?” She’s surprised.

She probably shouldn’t be anymore. Except for the rough start to their engagement in February, Jake had a perfect gentleman.

His generosity is unfamiliar to her, unexpected from a man of the Dagger organization. And she hadn’t been expecting the same care to be so easily extended to her sister. She assumed she would have to make more demands to ensure Delilah was taken care of properly. But he’s done everything she was planning to ask of him, and more, before she even had the chance to bring it up. A college fund set up with safeguards in place so only a select few have access, protecting the money from her greedy father. A brand-new car: one that’s cute and practical, with a top safety rating, in her sister’s preferred color. A week-long trip over Delilah’s spring break to the three schools she was considering so she could make what Jake called “the most educated decision possible.” He even almost bought a house that neighbored the campus of her final choice, a decision that Rebecca had to talk him down from. She’s still suspicious that he secretly bought it, despite a lengthy lecture on why that was a dumb idea.

Despite his kindness, it was hard for them to interact with each other at the start of their engagement. The first month was awkward, filled with distrusting glances and silted conversations as she settled into the guest room of his ocean-view property. Their proposal announcement was spent answering questions about the financial impact of Rebecca joining Eagle Hotels as the head of the newly reformed community and charity outreach division instead of their whirlwind romance. The press conference was supposed to be the way to launch the couple to the public, grabbing attention and headlines at the fact that California’s eternal bachelor was taking a wife who was going to use the profits of his multi-million company to pour money into cancer research and other worthy causes. Instead, the next day, the media was speculating about the financial future of Eagle and the validity of their relationship, not believing they were in love – or even liked each other – due to the lack of chemistry and the visible discomfort radiating from them both.

After reading that even reputable publications questioned the engagement, Rebecca realized they needed to become friends. Being comfortable with each other would allow them to sell the relationship to the public and investors while having the bonus side effect of convincing the older members of the Dagger organization that were still doubtful. Getting to know each other on a surface level and becoming friends would allow that to happen without having to get too close. Her plan had worked. They became comfortable with each other, the speculation stopped, and the gushing over their relationship started.

It also had the unintended effect of him becoming even more thoughtful, taking her into consideration and asking her opinion, even when it wasn’t necessary. He makes her laugh, a perfectly timed terrible pun lifting her spirits on tough days. He gives affection freely. Keep gestures subtle in public, a hand on her lower back or whispering in her ear just to follow it up with a kiss to her temple, all done to get perfect paparazzi shots of the couple. In private, around friends and family, his hands are bolder but never disrespectful. A strong arm around her waist, a gentle kiss on her neck, a warm hand on her thigh.

It's not what she’s used to from men, and it flusters her, even knowing it’s an act.

Then, the reminder that it’s an act puts her guard back up. Reverting to constantly reminding herself that this is a business agreement, a marriage of convenience.

Nothing more.

It’s hard, though. He makes her feel safe. Something a man hadn’t done in a decade.

Even when something happens that rips her back to reality and she’s reminded that this isn’t a real relationship, she feels safe. She knew what she was signing up for when she agreed to the marriage. What it would mean to be the wife of The Hangman. That he was a dangerous man who had done horrible things. There’s been several nights when he comes home late, knuckles intact to ensure plausible deniability of the Dagger leader, but with dark red flecks on an otherwise pristine white shirt that betray his innocence. It’s clear from the fact that Jake lets her see him on nights like that, nights when business had to be taken care of, that he trusts her. She trusts him, not fully, but enough to know that with him, she’s safe. She knows that as long as it’s not his blood that he comes home covered in. But another night, another ruined shirt, and the reminder runs through her head on eternal rotation.

This isn’t real. It’s to protect your sister, your family. This isn’t real. It’s to protect your sister, your family.

“Of course I did. She’s family. Oh honey, come here.” He pulls her close after catching sight of her lower lip wobbling and hugs her soft body into his harder one. Mentally admonishing himself after the moment he takes to appreciate her curves when she’s practically crying. “It’ll be okay. She’s going to school; it’s paid for, and she can stay with us during her breaks. Or we’ll get her a good internship, so she doesn’t have to come back at all. And after we get married, she doesn’t ever have to see them again if she doesn’t want to.”

“I know.” She rests her forehead against his collarbones, breathing to try and stop the tears threatening to escape. “I’m just worried.”

“About what?” One of his hands starts rubbing her back, the other drifting down to his favorite spot on her hip. “We can fix it, just gotta tell me.”

“Everything? I don’t know; I just feel so guilty. For the longest time, I was resentful that I had to take care of her so much, and of course, it was them I was mad at, but I’m afraid it seemed like I was upset with her. And then there were so many years where I was more distant than I wanted to be because dealing with them was just so awful. And I couldn’t get her out of there, and I’m worried that those two have hurt her in ways that I’ll never be able to understand or fix.” Her voice gets tighter as she speaks, cracking on the last word.

“Hey, breathe. It’s okay. I know you feel bad, but you did everything you could for her. You did what you had to do to protect yourself. And even though you were kinda distant, you still spent so much time with her. She loves you so much; she wants to be just like you. And let’s face it – with both parents alive, no documented history of abuse, and your father being who he is, no judge in the county would have dared to give you custody. You did the best you could do, and it was enough. She’s kind, smart, and funny, and I’m 110% certain that is all of you.” He wipes a tear that falls. “And I’m here now. Together we’ll keep her as safe as we possibly can. I will do everything in my power to protect you both. Okay?”

She sniffles, “Okay. Thank you, Jake.”

“Of course, anything for you, you know that. Now let’s see a smile!” Her weak attempt at a smile is met with his wide grin. “There’s my girl!”

His smile turns confused when she bites back a laugh. “What?”

“You have lettuce in your teeth.”

How the fuck did I get here?

Rebecca has had that exact thought countless times since February. If someone had told her five months earlier that she would be sitting in the back of her high school’s auditorium next to Jacob “The Hangman” Seresin, and not only would he be her fiancé, but he would be willingly and eagerly attending her sister’s academic awards ceremony, and that it was his idea to buy a bouquet of daisies and make a reservation at the nicest steakhouse in the city to celebrate afterward, she would have taken that person to the emergency room for fear of horrific brain damage.

After the call with her sister Jake had cleared the rest of his schedule, insisting they spend the rest of the afternoon together. He spent the next few hours driving them around town, completing a to-do list that existed in his head. The first stop was a jewelry store to pick up two necklaces. One he immediately put around Rebecca’s neck. A beautiful white gold pendant with a teardrop-shaped peridot gemstone that rested perfectly on her decolletage. August’s birthstone for her and her sister’s birthday. The second box had an identical necklace, a graduation gift for Delilah, he explained. She didn’t have a chance to protest the much too expensive gifts before he was dragging her down the street to a bookstore where they argued over the best author of the twentieth century for almost an hour. Leaving with multiple books by Ian Fleming and Sue Grafton for comparison purposes and a promise to the owner to return. They popped into Rebecca’s favorite bakery for a snack and left with a baker’s dozen of treats and two iced teas. Splitting a chocolate donut, they dropped the rest of the pastries at the Machado household for Javy and Julianna to enjoy on their anniversary weekend. The last stop was a florist on Main Street to grab a bouquet before they picked Delilah up and headed to the school.

It had been a perfect afternoon.

The more she thinks about how smoothly everything went, how natural it felt, the more stressed she becomes. It shouldn’t have been easy. It shouldn’t have happened at all! He had more important things to do than spend the afternoon together. Why would he do that? She’s attempting to distract herself from the overwhelming feelings threatening to send her into a panic attack by flipping through the awards ceremony program when she sees it.

Her brain disconnects from her body; she can feel it happen. She knows the room is loud; it had been loud when they sat down, but now everything is muffled, and the only thing she can hear is blood rushing in her ears. Her body suddenly feels like concrete, heavy in a way it isn’t usually; an invisible pressure pushing especially hard on her sternum, making her breathing staccato and shallow. The folded booklet in her hands is now blurry, her eyes so unfocused she’s seeing multiple of the program swirling in front of her. Her hands start to shake in a way they haven’t done in a long time.

It’s the goddamn program. A voice in her head tells her. How are you supposed to deal with this? Seeing her name out of nowhere!

Another voice interrupts. No! It’s his fault. He’s being too nice; it wasn’t supposed to be like this! He wasn’t supposed to be like this.

She distantly thinks both of the voices are probably right. Because for the second time today, she can feel Jake’s concern from where he’s seated next to her – the auditorium is old, and the seats are packed together, reminiscent of a time with laxer safety regulations – and Rebecca knows that his eyebrows are scrunched together. They do that when he’s confused or worried; she noticed a few weeks after she moved into his place. She can feel his hand land on hers, and his breath is warm against her cheek where he’s leaned in close to check on her. He’s probably asking if she’s okay, asking what’s wrong, asking if she needs anything, shockingly sweet for a man suspected to be the cause of twenty-two deaths, but she can’t focus on him because right there, printed in black and white, is her mother’s name.

Monroe Mathematics Scholarship - $5,000 Given to the graduating senior who completed all the advanced mathematics courses with the highest overall four-year average and is pursuing higher education in medicine, engineering, or education. Established in 2009, this scholarship was created in loving memory of Laura Monroe and is generously donated by an anonymous alumnus. 2023 Winner: Delilah Hermann

“-ecca? Honey?” Her ears come back into play as a hand turns her face to the left. Dazed brown eyes meet worried green ones. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” Liar.

The green eyes narrow. “You’re lying. What’s wrong?”

“I- just… flipping through the program and seeing her name sprinkled throughout it right next to the words “graduating senior” got to me. She’s not a baby anymore. She’s going away to school, at a school that’s far away from me. And I’m going to miss her.”

Not a lie. Not the truth either.

“Oh, honey.” He wraps an arm around her shoulder, right hand absentmindedly playing with her hair. “I know, it sucks. It was hard to send all three of my sisters off to school, especially Kayla, and we’re not nearly as close as you two are. I don’t have any words to make it better, but I get it if that helps?”

“Yeah, it helps a little bit.”

“Good. Now!” He pulls her in close, pressing their cheeks together as he dramatically gestures toward the front of the auditorium. “Who exactly is that punk sitting next to my sister-in-law?”

“You don’t recognize him? That’s Travis.”

“Travis Kazansky?” She nods as she settles back into her own seat and firmly closes the program, she still felt dazed, but the weight of his arm was grounding. “Actually, where are the Kazanskys?”

“Sarah mentioned that Tom’s treatment was harder than usual the other day. I think they were planning to stay home so he can rest. Poor Travis. His senior year has been pretty rough.”

“God, he got big. What happened? Why are they sitting together?”

“Well, he went through puberty; that tends to happen to children, especially those that are 18 years old.”

He lets out a sarcastic chuckle, “You’re so funny I almost forgot how to laugh. Why are they sitting together?”

“Probably because they’re friends, Jake.”

“Friends?! How did those two become friends?”

“Delilah was his trig tutor, and they became friends… how ever kids become friends these days. TikTok or whatever. I don’t know anymore.”

“I thought she was taking calculus?”

“She did take calc, but she was a tutor for lower-level math classes this year.” A small smile forms on her face, watching the two teenagers shyly flirt with each other, surrounded by their friends.

“Jesus, you two are smart. I don’t know where you got- Look!” Jake interrupts his own muttering to aggressively point down front again. “Look at that! He put his arm around her!”

“I see that. It’s very sweet.”

He looks incredulous. “Sweet?! That’s not sweet! He’s taking advantage of her!”

“You’re being ridiculous! He puts his arm around her, that is not taking advantage of her. He is a perfectly nice boy!”

“No, he is not “a nice boy” – he’s a teenage boy! He's the starting quarterback and captain of the lacrosse team!”

“Hmm, wow, sounds familiar.”

“Exactly! I know what he’s like because that’s who I was!”

She rolls her eyes at the overprotective brother routine. “And you turned out fairly decent. I think we’ll be okay.”

“No! He’s not good enough for-”

“Jake. What he’s doing is totally harmless. He’s a good kid, and we know his parents very well. I’m not worried about it. And I’m actually glad a cute boy is flirting with Delilah. I didn’t get that, so I’m happy she’s getting to experience it.”

He freezes, looking sideways at her, noting her wistful expression as she watches the younger blonde boy play with her sister’s perfectly curled hair. “No one flirted with you in high school?”

“No, which isn’t surprising. I was a dork and so painfully shy. Besides, no one wanted to be known for being the guy that flirted with the too-smart-for-her-own-good, fat girl.” She shifts in her chair, dislodging his arm from her shoulders, uncomfortable with the vulnerability she had accidentally shown. His response is interrupted by Principal Scott attempting to start the evening, the entire audience cringing at the feedback that reverberates through the hall.

“Well, it’s nice to know some things around here never changed.”

Jake is worried about the woman in his passenger seat; she hasn’t once made fun of his music choice or criticized his bad blinker habits. She’s been staring out the window since they left the restaurant, just watching the bright lights of downtown. “You didn’t cry as much as I thought you would.”

His bad joke works, as it so frequently does with her. “Oh, like you’re so tough! I heard you sniffle when Delilah got the math scholarship.”

“How could I not be proud of her? She won seven awards, and that was the biggest one I saw listed in the program, and she won it!” His eyes go big as he defends himself.

She leans back into her seat, crossing her arms across her chest. “It is a big award, must be a pretty successful alumnus who donated it. Wonder who it is…”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool of them, whoever they are.”

She goes to question him – fairly certain the anonymous alumni donor is him – when he makes an unexpected turn. “What are you doing?”

“Ice cream.”

Her eyes narrow, “I thought you didn’t want dessert?”

“Maybe I just wanted to have some alone time and get a lil something sweet with my something sweet.”

“You said no at the restaurant, that you were “too full” for dessert.” She points out.

“Well, I’ve since changed my mind.” He sniffs. “A man is allowed to do that.”

“Mmmhm. You’ve done that a few times tonight.”

He plays dumb. “What do you mean?”

“When Delilah mentioned that we were going to Morton’s for a celebration dinner in front of Travis, I thought you would blow a gasket. But instead, you invited him to join us; I didn’t even have to nudge you. And you didn’t complain once when you called the restaurant to adjust our reservation.”

“Anything for you, my dear.”

She starts chuckling at him. “Stop it! You are so full of shit. There was nothing! No complaining, no protesting the, the- oh, what did you call him when he put his hand on her back? Oh! No protesting the “devil child” joining our dinner? And by the way, I can’t believe you suggested that Travis drive Delilah home and then stuffed fifty bucks in his hand so they could stop and get ice cream!”

“He’s not a bad kid.”

“Oh, and what pray tell has caused this sudden change of heart, Mr. Seresin?”

“He was very polite and respectful.”

“And?” She pokes his arm, poking him harder when he mumbles something. “I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“…and he called me sir without any prompting.” He backs into a spot, completely avoiding eye contact once in park.

“Oh my god.” Her chuckles turn into full-blown laughter. “You are so ridiculous.”

“You’re so mean to me.” He looks genuinely sad, pouting in the driver’s seat.

She unbuckles and leans across the console, getting in his personal space with a smile bigger than he had ever seen from her. “I thought you liked it when I’m mean to you?”

Her voice is low, sexy, even as she’s mocking him with his own words from earlier in the day. Suddenly his whole body feels hot, and he laughs to deflect, praying to any available deities that his neck isn’t turning red. “You know what?”

“What?”

“Just for that, you can pay for ice cream.” He climbs out of the car, smile growing as he listens to her protests about how she wasn’t even the one that wanted ice cream, so he should be the one to pay. She’s still making her case when they meet at the bumper, but he doesn’t respond, distracted by how she hooked her hand through his elbow without thinking. He stares at the ring adorning her fourth finger, and his heart thumps.

This is what the rest of our lives are going to be like.

She gently pinches the inside of his bicep as she presses into his side to give more room to a young family juggling a stroller and three young kids on a sugar high, wiggling her fingers at the baby propped on his mom’s hip. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Always, my dear.”

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credit for dividers here

[bxeckersz]

smoked away my brain | Jana El Alfy x teammate female!reader

summary: Jana and y/n get high together

warnings: weed, language, smoking

“I smoked away my brain. I think i’m going dumb.”

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“Hey guys!” I yelled as I walked through the door. “hey y/n” The girls said. “Whatcha guys doin’?” I asked. “I’m doing my homework” Aubrey says. “Same” Paige and KK say.

“I have no idea where the other girls are. probably in their rooms or something” Paige shrugged. “Is Jana here?” I ask. “Yeah shes in her room doing whatever” KK said, her face glued to her computer. Man, they really put the student in student athlete.

“Jannn!!” I announced, bursting into her door. “hii y/nn” Jana said, giving me a hug. Out of everyone on the team, me and Jana are the closest.

“where have you been all day?” Jana asked as I flopped down onto her bed. “I was shooting around, uh I went to classes then study hall, I went to my friend’s house, and I shot some pictures for my NIL deal” I shrug. “Shooting around on an off day? crazy” Jana laughs.

“You know why i came home?” I raiseed my eyebrow, a slight smirk on my face. “oh my gosh. Yes, yes.” Jana says almost immediately. It’s like she reads my mind, I swear.

“You wanna get high, don’t you?” Jana says, getting up. “You already know.” I reply.

☆☆

Me and Jana were passing the blunt back and forth with quiet music playing in the background. “Sometimes, I wish I could get high everyday. But then I remember i chose to be an athlete” I groaned, passing the blunt to Jana.

“I know” Jana giggled. By that point me and Jana were higher than a fucking kite. “I’m so fucking high” I laugh, laying back. “My God, I know. Me too” Jana giggled with me, putting the blunt out.

“Guys we’re about to have a movie- ew bro, it smells like 398 pounds of weed and sweat in here. ugh” KK gags, immediately closing the door. “ya’ll they high as fuck right now.” We hear KK say.

“we should go out there” I said, my voice raspy. “Yeah, we should.” Jana giggled as we got up.

“No, go ya’ll high asses back in there.” Paige said. “hush” I mumble, flopping down on the couch. “see this is why we need to ban weed from Jana and Y/n. This is the second time this week ya’ll have gotten high together” Morgan says. “Relax, mom” I laugh.

“That was a good one” Jana giggles with me. “What the hell are we gonna do with them” Kaitlyn says, shaking her head as she watches us laugh and giggle.

We quite literally smoked our brains away.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

thanks for reading!

ya’ll this is so rushed and bad 😭.

[longeyelashedtragedy]

anyway update for you all--sorry I have been a bit absent the past week. It wasn't intentional, I've just suddenly unexpectedly left my aromantic era and it's ✨mutual✨ and I'm just trying to sort it all out mentally after being in my aromantic era for y e a r s. Plus he's stupid hot as fuck so like.

I'm not a big fan of the Hard Launch so vague post stays vague, but!

[totallovestrucksimp]

Larry x Marian prompt

It’s how his family finds out about their relationship. Larry comes home from the club with a bruised eye and cut up knuckles because someone made remarks about Marian and her romantic history. (Extra love if you include Oscar telling Marian what happened at the club)

”This wasn’t how it was supposed to come out”

“It’s 8:15, Larry should have been back by now. What could possibly be keeping him for so long?”

Dinner at the Russell residence isn’t normally this tense, but when Bertha Russell is worried, so should everyone else be.

“He’s been at the club dear, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s simply too late for him to come.” Assured George.

“And he’s probably drunk.” added Gladys.

“Gladys! Don’t say such things. If he’s not coming, then he should have at lease sent a telegram.”

Just then, there was a commotion at the door.

“And that’s probably it now, one of the footmen can go get it.”

Ignoring her husbands request, Bertha went herself, only for the other two still at the table to come running when they heard her scream.

They were met at the door with the sight of Larry’s face bruised and lip busted, along with a busted knuckle on his right hand. Beside him was Mr Fane, Church, and Bertha, fretting over him.

“George, get him to your office, Gladys, you go and alert the staff, tell them to bring bandages, Mr Fane, thank you for bringing him home.”

“Mother, it’s not that bad, I didn’t break anything.”

“But you could be concussed! I want you looked at properly by a doctor-“

“Mother, I’m FINE-“

“Don’t fight your mother right now, she’s just worried. Come into my office and we’ll have you looked at.” George spoke into Larry’s ear, leading him away.

With Larry, Gladys, George, and Church gone, Mrs Russell was left with Mr Fane.

“What on earth happened to him?” She finally asked, the anxiousness of the situation finally wearing off.

“Well, it’s a bit complicated. We were in the lounge with a few other men simply talking, and one of the other patrons said something that Larry to great offense to. Well, it sort of went out-of-control from there. A small fight broke out before I got him out of there.”

“But what did he say?”

“I…erm, I’d rather not repeat it, but it was quite vulgar, and I dont blame Larry too much for how he reacted.” 

He avoids her gaze, not wanting to be pressed on the subject any longer.

I think I know who this is about now she thinks.

“I will say it was about someone he cares about deeply, but it really should be Larry telling you this. Now I must be going or my wife will worry.”

“Or course, please send Aurora my regards. Thank you again for seeing Larry home safely.”

He nods and heads off.

***

With the four of them plus Church dressing Larry’s wounds in the office, there’s finally time for answers.

“Mr Fane told me about the fight you got into at the club earlier.”

“The other man started it.”

“And you should have ended it! I raised you better than to use your fists to talk instead of your words!”

“He called her a Trollope! I couldn’t let him get away with that!”

“Larry! Your sister is in the room. Please keep your language civil.”

“I’ve heard worse.” Gladys speaks up from beside her father. “And besides, if he was defending a lady’s honor-“

“And he will not have contact with said lady from this moment forth. Not if she’s starting to bring out this behavior in you.”

“You can’t stop me-“

“Larry, as much as I hate to do this in front of your father and sister, I know who you were defending and I know that you’re not well suited. She’s not a good match for you.”

He shoots out of his chair in a fury.

“Marian is MORE than a match for me!”

Absolute silence echos throughout the room.

“…what does any of this have to do with Marian?”

Larry recoils a little in shock, not expecting this reaction from his mother.

“What did Mr Fane tell you?”

“Less than thought. I assumed the fight was about Mrs Blane, but it appears that I was wrong. Start from the beginning, and tell us everything.”

The bruised man lays back in his chair, recounting the events of a few hours earlier.

“Me, Mr Fane, and a couple of others were having some drinks in the lounge, and the conversation got around to the Van Rhijns. One man said that he’s surprised that Mrs Van Rhijn has let Marian stay in the house, even when men keep dropping her left and right. They started speculating why they were dropping her before I stood up for her, but then he asked me why I was defending someone who was likely a trollop, and…well, you know how it went from there. You understand I couldn’t let that go unpunished, right?”

There was a moment of silence after he wrapped up his story, the only sounds being Church applying more tape to his bandaged knuckles.

“Well, that puts the situation in a better light, doesn’t it dear?”

“Yes, I suppose so, but you mustn’t let word about this get too far. If people were to hear about this they might get the wrong idea.”

“And what idea might that be mother?”

“That you two of you are in a courting ship.”

He demeanor suddenly changes. He looks down almost bashful, and the faint trace of a blush rises on his cheeks.

Suddenly, it clicked.

It was about someone he cares about deeply.

Oh.

Oh.

“You and Miss Brook! For how long? When did it start!?” Gladys squeals.

“We started courting right after that night at the opera. We agreed to keep it quiet to not upset her aunt.”

“Why haven’t you told us before now? And what’s your plan for her in the future?” Bertha questioned, still reeling in from the shock.

“I think Larry has had a long night, and so have we. Let’s let him have a rest for we bombarder him with more questions.” Says George, trying to help keep his wife at bay.

“We’ll discuss this in the morning over breakfast. But I want genuine answers from you. I don’t want to mess up her relationship with our family.” She rubs her temples. 

“I’m going up to change.” She leaves the room. Gladys turns to her brother.

“You’ll tell me if you plan to propose to her before you tell mama, right?”

•••Epilogue••• 

At 8:59, Oscar Van Rhijn steps out of his cab on to the corner of 21st street, where he meets the doors of his childhood home. “Mr Van Rhijn! We weren’t expecting you at this hour!” Bannister says as he opens up the house for him.

“Ah, I’m just popping in for a visit. Is Marian around at all?”

“They finished dinner, and she just went upstairs for a lay down. Would you like me to go fetched her?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

He takes a seat as he watches his mother’s butler climb the steps to his cousins room. This gives him time to think about how to tell her about his interesting evening. Never mind the fact that he witnessed Larry Russell get into a fight at the club. Never mind the fact that the fight was about her. Never mind that Larry shouted that he would never be ashamed for fighting out for the woman he loves to the entire place.

“Oscar! What are you doing here? I’d invite your mother in here with us too, but we had a little spat during dinner. Apparently she thinks I’ve been seeing someone behind her back again. What an interesting thought, don’t you think?”

Yes Oscar thought. Things are going to get very interesting indeed.

[honeyedlashton]

Night in Austria 🚬🤎☕️

[xviruserrorx]

I'll wait for you another night / As you like / Dressed in Himalayan white / I'll wait for you some other night / Dressed as you like / Dressed in Himalayan white - Snow Cats by AFI

For Day 4 of @merlinrarepairfest

[ashtons-lemon-tree]

Moodboard for an upcoming Mashton songfic I'm currently writing

🎶 We were friends, now I want more / Would you take it wrong / If I leaned in for a kiss now, babe? 🎶

[itshoneywhatever]

My AO3 Works

Top Gun: Maverick — Hangster

You’re a Bad Habit… Series - 2 Works / Complete / Omegaverse, Mpreg, Explicit

You’re a Bad Habit I Can’t Shake Off (but I still want more): They don't date, they are not even friends, what they have is similar to a bad habit you want to quit. And now they have to figure out how to be parents together.

In Need of Some Life-Affirming Touches: They don't date, they are not even friends, what they have is similar to a bad habit you want to quit. Now, in the face of uncertainty, boy do they love getting high on each other.

Other TG:M Works

How Long Does It Take? — One Shot / Past Mpreg

A passionate goodbye leads to long lasting consequences for Jake.

To Protect and Cherish — One Shot / AU Bodyguard / Omegaverse

Six months after a breakup, Jake has a two week long affair with a handsome guy. Same guy shows up to work for their company at the same time threats against his life become more serious.

Formula 1 — Lestappen

I was looking for comfort (and I found you) — One Shot / Omegaverse

Charles wakes up feeling off, craving the comfort of his nest but not having the luxury to lay in it for the day, not when it’s a race weekend. When he finally is able to relax, he ends up finding more than the confort he was looking for.

A Happy Turn of Events — One Shot / Omegaverse

He never would have thought that stupidly standing up to Max so he wouldn’t start a fight with Charles’ teammate would lead to the omega being as I’m

A Turn of Luck — One Shot / Chussy, Menstruation

Charles is on day three of his period and the cramps are so bad he has to cancel his date with Max. He hadn’t expected for the man to show up at his place, completely unannounced.

Change of Plans — Ongoing, Multi chapters / Omegaverse, Chussy, Pregnancy

After days of feeling incredibly nauseous, Charles finally wakes up just in time to throw up everything he had been able to tolerate the day before.

He can no longer deny what these symptoms are telling him.

MCU — Stony

Divided We Fall, Together We Stand — Complete / Omegaverse, Mpreg, Explicit

Tony is left to deal with the aftermath of everything.

Peaky Blinders — Sholomons

Deals Series — 14 Works / Complete / Omegaverse, Mpreg, Explicit

Deals Have Consequences: Tommy needed to ensure Alfie's loyalty no matter what. He didn't expect the extent of the consequences of his actions.

Closing the Deal: Two weeks have passed since they signed the contract. It's time to close the deal and enjoy its perks.

A New Deal is Made: No matter what they are doing, no matter the situation, Tommy is first and foremost a businessman.

The Offer: Their lives through the years since they met up until the moment they decided to live together, told by one Alfie Solomons.

The Fine Print: All things considered, Alfie should probably know better about de importance of reading the fine print whenever he signs a contract.

Changes: With everything that has been going on, Tommy can't help to ponder in all the changes that have taken place in the last few months. And in the ones that are about to come.

Getting to Know You: Jealousy makes Alfie angry. Tommy doesn't have time for his bullshit. So they are going to talk like the fucking adults that they are.

Turn of Events: Alfie has to go to London. Tommy goes along. Things don’t go as planned.

The Rest of Their Lives: Bedrest is driving Tommy insane, reading isn't enough, writting isn't enough to keep him distracted; he's spending too much time on his head and some uncomfortable doubts are making their ways to his mind. All he wants is for the babies to be here already so he can walk again, and for Alfie to pay him a little more attention.

Loyalty: Cyril is very grateful for the life he has been give, that's why he makes his mission in life to protect the one who he loves -and love him- the most. (Or: A Story where Cyril prefers the Shelby boys more.)

Together: It's been a month since the twins arrived in a rather dramatic way, and this story is about how Tommy and Alfie are managing how to raise three kids and find time for them as a couple.

Another Type of Contract: “This holiday season, Tommy, I offer you another type of contract.”

One Last Deal: Tommy has a lot on his mind — kids, husband, the company he has to run. Having to worry about his fuckin' cousin lurking around, shouldn't be one of them. It's time to make a decision and negotiate one last deal.

Headcanons — Deals Series: A collection of headcan on requests about Tommy, Alfie and their kids. All set in the Deals series.

Other PB Works

Easy to Manipulate — One Shot

There’s one sure way to make Alfie agree to whatever Tommy asks, and Tommy isn’t afraid to use it.

The Model & The Baker — One Shot / Based on Prompt

It was impossible, he knows, for Tommy to still want him. He knows there’s no chance for them to get back together, and it’s all his fault. Ada seems to thinks otherwise.

Surprise! — One Shot / Based on Prompt

When he saw her there, he realized he couldn't just leave her to her own devices. So, he took her home.

Wish You Were Mine — One Shot / Based on Prompt

I want to blame you, but we both know I hurt myself with my own expectations.

From a One Night Stand to Business Partners… — One Shot / Explicit

Before a big meeting in the morning, Tommy decides to go out the night before to get a feel of the city.

[gothluke]

i 🩷 ashton

[flash-bastardd]

Guillermo always did look good enough to eat.

I have written smut! First time ever!

[iridescentis]

Power & Control by MARINA sounds like the plot of a nischa fic

[callsignspark]

anything for you | part two teaser

tiny spoilers with zero context! (well maybe a tiny bit of context for one, as seen in this preview posted last week.) I stole this idea from @roleycoleyreccenter because I loved it when Coley did it for The House We Share (which everyone should read!!)

read part two of anything for you this Friday, April 28th at 1500 EST!

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Fic Titles: Song Edition

Part III

More than distance between us - California King Bed, Rihanna

A waking nightmare that is only worse when I am sleeping - Kill The Messenger, Jack's Mannequin

Company under cover, filling space in your sheets - Candles, Daughter

Everything looks better when the sun goes down - Make me wanna die, The Pretty Reckless

Lay your head on me one last time - So cold, Breaking Benjamin

So just pour a drink (let's talk it over) - Robots will cry, Cobra Starship

Am I the one you think about - Pink Rabbits, The National

Until you hold my hand - Swing Life Away, Rise Against

All colors and cares glaze to gray - Taro, alt-J

I fall in love just a little ol' little bit - Someone new, Hozier

Sometimes goodbye is a second chance - Second chance, Shinedown

Have we got our lines crossed? - Don't waste my time, Victor Lundberg

A souvenir for the morning - The Consequence, You Me At Six

I hate loving you as much as I do - Where is her head, The National

Destined for this and the crown - Solo, Jennie

Soft skin and soft lips - girls, girl in red

Every time we lie awake - I hate everything about you, Three Days Grace

But we're still sleeping like we're lovers - Still, Daughter

Can't give you my soul - Somebody Else, The 1975

I can feel you dreaming of me - Wester, AFI

There's a fine line between love and hate - The Diary of Jane, Breaking Benjamin

Could you love me at my worst? - @ my worst, blackbear

Because we're one of a kind - God's Menu, Stray Kids

Triangles are my favorite shape - Tessellate, alt-J

Desperate minds mean desperate measures - Playing the blame game, You Me At Six

Someone I am made for - Forever yours, Sunrise Avenue

Put your sweet lips on my lips - Like real people do, Hozier

And I'll lie and you'll believe - Just tonight, The Pretty Reckless

Call me your favorite, call me the worst - Call me, Shinedown

Then tell me to leave (and baby I'll go) - July, Noah Cyrus

More titles!

[tototalks]

🎵 Pretty woman, walking down the street, pretty woman, the kind I’d like to meet, pretty woman. 🎵

Let’s go!! Time for 💎 Pet 💎

- ‘Ancel was a virgin the first twelve times he has sex. The thirteenth time, it lacked all plausibility’ - What a way to start a story and give insight into the world Ancel lives in.

- You would be SHOCKED how much us redheads get the “does the carpet match the drapes” question from total strangers. Ancel is really living the authentic ginger experience. 😂

- In the times of ancient Greeks and Romans, redheaded slaves were more expensive because they were rarer. In that way, Ancel was designed perfectly to align with his character. Love that choice by Pacat! ♥️

- Ancel has a goal and I respect it, and he’s never once tried to hide it. It’s pretty clear that his love of expensive things comes from having very little at the start of life.

- It’s interesting to gain the perspective of a character detached from the thought of sex being emotionally significant. A first night was everything to Erasmus, and sex is hugely tied in with intimacy and emotional connection for Laurent. Jord and Aimeric fell in love while having sex. Whereas sex, to Ancel, is a means to an end. It’s literally his job.

- Love the implication that pets have their own hierarchy and contracts are fiercely competitive. They have their own little community.

- Ancel uses everything he has to his advantage to incredible effect. He’s pretty, witty, and talented. Whenever he walks into a room it’s like that scene from ‘How to Lose Friends and Alienate People’ where Megan Fox walks through the middle of the pool. Lol

- Now this may be the deeply ingrained European stereotypes I grew up with, but in the same way Laurent is French and Damen is Greek, Berenger is 100% German.

- You always get the sense that even though Ancel is bold and daring, he’s still tiptoeing and walking on eggshells. He completely reinvents himself for every new master he has.

- Haha Isagoras! - very on the nose and I love it

- It makes perfect sense that Ancel can’t read and cares little for long epics and poems. I’d be willing to bet though, that he has an amazing memory because of this. Uneducated does not equal unintelligent.

- Love that Ancel’s there all wide eyed like “yes! Please teach me to ride!” while internally he’s like “ew ew ew”. Don’t blame him. Horses are terrifying.

- I like that Berenger does find out Ancel is faking his interests and tells him that he doesn’t have to pretend. From there, Ancel is clearly more himself and more comfortable.

- In addition, although he’s a creature of habit, Berenger is actually really sweet 🥺🥺

- “Luxury suits you” “hell yeah it does.”

- I am so fascinated by Ancel and Erasmus existing in the same social sphere, and Ancel wondering why Erasmus doesn’t use the fact he’s beautiful for power, and dammit I’m going to have to write that fic, aren’t I? 😭

- Ancel and Berenger are mismatched but that’s what works so well about them with Berenger negotiating and Ancel naturally drawing attention to himself. They make up for one another’s differences.

- Ancel giving Berenger fashion advice, and Berenger ignoring it every time in favour of ✨another brown jacket✨

- I’m also liking the implication that Ancel enjoys being a pet and gaining attention for power because he knows what it’s like to be powerless. I personally like to think that he saw Nicaise’s situation and somewhat understood to a certain degree. I can imagine he would’ve been quite young when he started too.

- Fun fact! Ancel’s fire performance is actually reminiscent of a real dance! It’s a Polynesian art called Siva Afi and was traditionally a war dance, except instead of burning cloth on the ends of the baton, there are burning knives. Very cool! 🔥

- Ancel 🤝 Kris Jenner - all publicity is good publicity and I will make billionaires out of a scandal and watch people be jealous.

- The kiss being the first implication that Berenger actually does desire Ancel. Ooh boy, you ain’t hiding that much longer.

- The kiss is also the catalyst for Berenger ending the contract, and I can imagine that Ancel is so confused as to what he did wrong, not realising the circumstances behind the decision. 😞

- It’s absolutely wild looking back on the garden scene from a different perspective and realising that absolutely no one wanted that mess to happen.

- “You’re old.” - once again, ouch.

- Ancel being annoyed at seeing the lords go and ‘coddle’ Erasmus serves to highlight the wildly different appeals Ancel and Erasmus have as pets. Bold and daring vs. Sweet and modest. They would be unstoppable as friends. Shit, I’m really going to have to write that fic now, or read one that hopefully some talented person out there has written already 🙏

- Love that Ancel doesn’t rat Berenger out to the Regent - the Regent doesn’t even want him, and I’m sure Ancel is faintly remembering Nicaise mentioning that he’s “too old” 🤢

- And then the big reveal that Berenger was trying to protect Ancel as he supported Laurent’s bid for the throne; and Ancel realising that Berenger does, in fact, like him. Callback to “isn’t everyone looking for someone to be loyal to?” Sensational.

- I also, for my personal brain rot reasons, need Laurent and Ancel to strike up a bargain by which Ancel listens to all the pet gossip and rats out to Laurent which of the masters are disobeying the new laws of underaged pets or are undermining the new monarchy and union. All in return for a little coin of course 😉

- Ancel and Berenger: what a great little mismatched but perfectly matched pair! Really enjoyed this rendition of pretty woman! 😂

[personasintro]

Hello dear author,

I've been a long time follower of your writing, and will start by saying I've read your entire masterlist, including the minis, and thoroughly enjoyed them! Thank you for the stories. 💚

Like with most readers, there have been some stories that I often go back to, to re-read wholly, or sometimes, particular chapters.

One such is Away From You. Afy has been an all time favourite Yoon fic of mine. I also remember reading a post from you a long time ago, saying there is only one last chapter left for the story now. Maybe I'm imagining this, and for that I am sorry in advance.

I know all of us love MH and everyone hounds you to prioritise that all the time. I still wanted to ask, is there a teeny tiny possibility that you may work on AFY again? No pressure, just wanted to know what to expect. I'm also more than happy to keep re-reading what you've already gifted us!

Lots of love.

hello dear reader ♡

i'm sorry i only now got the time to respond to your message! first of all, thank you so much for all the love and sweet words!

the next afy chapter is in the works! i do have a lot of wips but you probably know by now my situation with time etc.. so that's why it's taking so long. but i'm thinking of afy and giving it a proper ending! don't worry ♡

[sitkowski]

i will wrap you in cold ( jolly karlsson x noah sebastian )

pairing: jolly karlsson x noah sebastian

cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ description of a character’s death(s), mind manipulation, blood kink, finger sucking, oral sex, anal sex, using blood for questionable things, blood drinking, mentions of past lives.

word count: 4.2k

author's note: the second and only other fic done for kinktober in the concrete jungle, let's get spooky-ish. title comes from "silver and cold" by afi, divider by @saradika-graphics 🕷️

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups

There’s something off about this haunted house the minute he steps inside of it. First, it’s too…nice. It looks like something out of the 1800’s, or that one Backstreet Boys music video. His footsteps echo as he moves through the large foyer, too caught up in the scenery before him to realize that he’s been separated from the group he came in with. Whoever thought this was a good idea is an idiot.

It’s Noah. He’s that idiot.

When he turns back around to find his friends, that’s when he sees that he is alone. Only he isn’t. There’s a man lingering in the entryway where the door had been. He isn’t quite visible in the shadows that he’s standing in, and Noah takes a step towards him just so he can see him more clearly. He belatedly remembers that he’s in a haunted house, and there are supposed to be people in here that scare him.

“Do I scare you?” the man asks in a slightly accented voice that makes the hair on the back of Noah’s neck stand up. “You don’t look scared, pretty boy.”

When he steps out of the shadows, Noah’s first thought is that this man is the pretty one. He doesn’t appear to be dressed like any of the typical scare actors he’s seen in haunted houses before. Leather jacket, pristine white t-shirt beneath it, long hair falling over his shoulders. Noah’s eyes seem to be focusing on little details, like the way that the light catches on this man’s eyes, how he can’t look away from him.

“Where is everyone?” he asks finally.

He thinks that maybe his friends put him up to this, or it’s part of the attraction that people get separated off like this. Maybe he even went the wrong way when he came through the door and off the hallway.

The man looks left and then right, and lifts his shoulders in a graceful shrug. “Maybe you did take a wrong turn, maybe not. Are you alone? You didn’t answer my previous question.”

“If you’re supposed to scare me, you might want to do a better job.”

It’s probably not a smart idea to taunt him, especially when Noah’s got no idea what this guy is meant to do. The house wasn’t the type where he had to sign a piece of paper before going on, but judging it by the outside, something else should be happening. It’s too quiet, too clean. Noah expected to hear background music, see people being chased around with dudes in masks or clowns with chainsaws.

He decides that it’s time for him to go and find his friends, if he can just figure out which way he’s supposed to go.

“Maybe I’m doing exactly what I was meant to, Noah.”

Noah stops, and turns around. “You know my name.”

Maybe he should be terrified. He is seemingly locked in some room with a very beautiful stranger who knows his name. This is the part of the horror movie where the main character realizes that something is very wrong, and they run. But Noah doesn’t run. He just stands there.

“And my name is Joakim. We are not strangers,” Joakim’s voice seems to be everywhere now, like an echo. In the room, in his head. “I’ve been waiting for you, for a very long time.”

His fingers are cold when he touches Noah’s cheek, but Noah feels like he’s burning from the inside out. And he remembers. He remembers everything. The man in front of him is no stranger. It’s been almost three hundred years, and he now remembers that face as well as his own. He hasn’t aged a day. Noah sees it all, it comes over him in waves, the life they once shared. His death; the memories of choking on his own blood, calling out with his very last breath for Joakim who was unable to reach him. Being cold and alone, trying and failing to keep himself alive just a little longer to see him. It nearly brings him to his knees, but there are strong hands keeping him up right.

“Jolly.” The nickname falls from Noah’s lips like a prayer. If someone had asked him an hour before, he would not have known it. Wouldn’t have remembered it. But now, it’s on the tip of his tongue as if it never left. “You found me.”

He grabs onto the collar of Jolly’s leather jacket and yanks him closer, crushing his mouth to his. It’s been a long time, and Noah feels the sharpness of one of his fangs slicing into his bottom lip. Blood runs down his chin, fills his mouth. He doesn’t care. Jolly licks it all away, devouring it as if it’s the most precious thing to him. Noah wonders if his blood tastes to him as it once did all those years ago.

“How? How did you do this?” he asks breathlessly, letting himself sink further into Jolly’s embrace.

Jolly looks almost embarrassed. “I put the idea of coming here into your friend’s head. The one with the pretty eyes? When I realized that it was you, when I knew for sure, I had to get you back—”

“Where are we, by the way? I know that we walked into some old ass townhouse that was rented out for Halloween.”

“Tonight was the only time I could do this. The veil between worlds is the thinnest, and this house is very malleable to my powers. As far as your friends are concerned, you all went through together and left together. By tomorrow morning, it will not matter.”

Noah stares at him. “You manipulated Nicholas to get to me. You manipulated time.”

He never knew Jolly as a human, he had always been evasive about how long he’d been a vampire and Noah had accepted that. There had been a brief moment before his death where he felt bitterness that the same gift hadn’t been offered to him. But it wouldn’t have worked. He’d never known Jolly as human, but Jolly had never known him as healthy. He’d been living on borrowed time when they were together all those years ago.

It’s different now.

“I will not let you go again. I know you might be attached to this life here, but you are mine, Noah. I’ll do what I need to do in order to keep you this time.” Jolly promises.

The thing is, Noah isn’t afraid. He hasn’t been afraid since he stepped foot into this place. He isn’t sure if that’s Jolly’s influence over him, over this house. He should probably be concerned that he pretty much was just told that he was going to die here.

“I’m not going to kill you,” Always in his head, Jolly smiles sharply as he answers Noah’s thoughts. His blood streaks the bottom of Jolly’s face and his fangs. “I’ll have you warm and alive with me, pretty boy. As long as you desire, until the day you wish to be like me.”

He’s always known the right things to say. Noah hates that he’d forgotten, but he knows that it had been another life, long ago, where he knew Jolly. This Noah, he doesn’t know him at all, even with every memory of the two of them together running through his mind in intimate detail. It wasn’t him, but another him.

“Can we…can we go somewhere?” he asks hesitantly.

“We aren’t limited to just this room, Noah. Anywhere you want to be, I will take you.”

It’s probably just instinct that he thinks of his home; the apartment he shares with Nicholas. In a blink, they are there in his bedroom. And this time, Jolly’s unable to keep Noah from collapsing to his knees in the middle of the floor, where he gasps for air and looks around in disbelief. He waits for the bedroom door to fly open, for someone to see him there. But nothing happens.

Jolly crouches down in front of him, brushing his hair out of his face. “Just take deep breaths, you’re alright.”

“What the fuck did you do?” The haunted house was over thirty minutes away from his apartment, but they were there in seconds. Noah’s head swims, and he squeezes his eyes shut until everything feels right again. “New rule, Jolly. No using abilities that could potentially make me vomit all over you. That isn’t very attractive.”

“Sorry, love.”

He doesn’t sound sorry at all. He reaches down and hooks his hands beneath Noah’s arms, lifting him as if he weighed nothing. It doesn’t help Noah’s current mindset. Now that they’re not inside the mansion, he’s thinking a little more clearly. And suddenly trying to wrap his mind around the fact that there is a thousand year old vampire standing in his bedroom, and three hundred years ago, another version of himself was desperately in love with him. Obsessed with him. He’d thought that Jolly would turn him before he died, but he never came. And now, here he is, never having aged at all. It dawns on Noah that he’s the same age now that he was when he died in his past life.

Jolly deposits him on the end of his bed, and Noah watches avidly as he practically strolls around his room. Inspecting things, learning what he can about him by picking things up and turning them over in his hands. He eyes a picture of Nicholas and Noah with something close to jealousy, but he places it back where he picked it up with care.

“You’re happy, in this life?” Jolly asks, not looking at him.

“I am,” Noah reaches for his hand, and he feels a hint of what he felt in the mansion dance between their connecting fingers. “But I’m also yours, I never stopped being yours.”

“That Noah died—”

“What did you think was going to happen when you sought me out in that haunted house, huh? You knew the minute you touched me that everything was going to come rushing right back. You can’t expect to give me all of those memories of you and think that I’m not changed by it all.”

In a move that is anything but human, Jolly is suddenly in front of him, inches from Noah’s face. The color drains from his eyes, turning them an inky black that Noah can’t seem to look away from. His mouth opens, just a little, just enough to show the very tips of his fangs. Jolly inhales deeply, edging his way closer until his nose brushes Noah’s cheek.

“I smell the blood beneath your skin, pretty boy. I smell everything,” the corner of his mouth tilts up a little more, and Noah sees the way his tongue glances off of one of his fangs. “Tell me again that you’re not frightened of me.”

“Never said I wasn’t scared of you. But like you said. I’m yours. So…prove it.”

“I said I wouldn’t kill you. I meant that. But you are mine and I want other things. Things I’m not sure you’re ready to give me so soon after our reunion.”

Noah stares at him impassively. Reaching up, he puts his thumb on Jolly’s bottom lip, nudging until he gets the message and opens his mouth wider. What Noah does next, he does on purpose. Because a memory stirs in his mind; himself and Jolly, bloodied sheets, Noah delirious from loss of blood. He remembers begging him for more, to finally give him what he wanted. Jolly had promised, soon. Noah remembers being pushy to get that answer. So he pushes now.

His thumb slides against one of Jolly’s fangs, and the skin parts easily on the sharp point. Noah hisses out a breath and Jolly growls, grabbing his wrist in a bruising hold, trying to get his hand away from his mouth. But the second Noah’s blood touches his tongue, he’s lost. Noah can see it. He welcomes it. Jolly’s lips wrap around his thumb, and there’s a sting as he sucks on the digit, trying to draw as much blood from the nick as possible.

Finally, he manages to push Noah away, shoving himself back as if to put distance between them. Noah’s blood stains his bottom lip and his teeth, and he all but snarls at him to get out of his clothes unless he wants them torn off. Noah complies easily, enjoying the stunned look on Jolly’s face when he takes in all of his tattoos. He knows that Jolly’s got tattoos of his own now, but there was a time where nothing marred Noah’s skin, nothing but the faint but distinct scars that were in the shape of Jolly’s teeth.

Jolly takes off his own clothes, and Noah’s got vague memories of the feel of this body; memories flow through his mind and he remembers the way his skin felt pressed to his own, the way the cold would seep in, how it felt beneath his lips and his fingers. His head spins with all of the new information that keeps coming back to him, the overflow of feelings that he suddenly has for Jolly, who is both a stranger and the most important being in his life. Whichever life that may be.

“I know you remember how it once was between the two of us,” Jolly says as he stalks back towards the bed. His head tilts, as if he’s listening to the spike in Noah’s heartbeat. “If you’re expecting to leave here in the same condition you entered—”

“This is you flirting with me? Threatening my life after three hundred years?”

Noah’s amusement fades quickly as Jolly crawls over him, pushing his body down into the plush bedding. The room around them seems to distort, and it feels as if all of the air is being pulled from his lungs. Time blurs again, and it’s almost as if the worlds are mixing and melding, because he looks to the left and sees the grand staircase of the mansion, but to the right is his computer desk. Everything grows fuzzy, and his panic rises, even as he writhes up against Jolly trying to get him closer. He’s manipulating him, he knows he is. Not his feelings, but his perception of their surroundings. For all he knows, they never actually left the haunted house. This could all be a dream.

“A dream?” Jolly reaches down between them and wraps his fingers around Noah’s cock, rubbing his thumb over the head. He gathers the wetness there and brings it up to his own mouth, licking it clean. “Should I wake you then?”

Noah protests, trying to at least pretend he’s got the upper hand by lifting himself up to kiss him. Jolly fists his hands in Noah’s hair, crushing his mouth to his, and Noah feels the cut in his lip from earlier split open. The second it happens, it’s like a switch is thrown and Jolly melts against him, kissing him desperately and licking at the wound, until Noah has to physically push him away so he can breathe. This doesn’t deter him, as he starts mouthing his way down Noah’s throat and chest, nipping him here and there. He scrapes his fangs harder against the skin over Noah’s hipbone, and blood rises to the surface quickly. His eyes are locked on Noah’s as he licks it away.

“Answer me this, love?” Jolly asks. His fingers tiptoe over Noah’s stomach, and he leans down and drags his tongue up the underside of Noah’s cock. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

It’s an immediate answer, and it’s probably a lust-addled agreement, but Noah doesn’t care. He just wants Jolly to do something, anything. And he does. Noah feels the sharp pressure of his fangs sinking into his upper thigh for mere seconds, before he’s pulling back and pressing down on the wound so that the blood rises quickly. Noah hisses and fists his hands in the blankets beneath him, waiting and watching as Jolly gets Noah’s blood on his hand. He can feel it running down his leg, sticky and hot, and then Jolly is taking his cock in his blood coated hand, stroking him slowly.

Noah can’t look away. He’s caught in Jolly’s gaze, watching him lick the blood from his cock before taking him in his mouth. He can feel the edge of his fang grazing him, and he lets out a harsh breath, trying not to move. Jolly may be a three hundred year old vampire but Noah knows what those fangs can do and the last thing they need is for him to accidentally gouge him. Jolly’s hand slides over the still drying blood on his thighs, fingers pressing down on the wounds. It’s a quick twinge of pain combined with the feeling of his mouth moving, and Noah wants more.

“You want more, Noah? You have to say it. Tell me what you want and it’s yours.”

 He hasn’t stopped sucking Noah’s cock. The voice is in his head, bouncing off the walls of the room, it’s everywhere. Just like in the mansion. Noah stares into Jolly’s blacked out eyes, unable to determine what he’s really done to him, and not really caring either way. He doesn’t want the pleasure to end, but he needs more.

“Please, Jolly, please. I need you inside of me right now or I’m gonna die, I swear to God—”

Jolly pulls off him, rising up so that they’re eye to eye with each other. His eyes have darkened as if it were possible. He brings his fingers up to Noah’s mouth, the ones still tacky with Noah’s blood. “Do not swear to your God. You swear to me.”

He opens his mouth to do just that, but before he can speak, Jolly is rubbing his fingers over Noah’s tongue, making him clean the blood off of them. The metallic taste makes his mouth water in a way that isn’t entirely pleasant, but he closes his lips around those fingers, licking them clean and coating them in saliva. It isn’t lost on him that another version of himself probably knew the taste of his own blood, even before he was so close to death.

After a few minutes, Jolly pulls them away, leaning back. Noah’s head spins yet again when he grabs him by his hips and flips him over onto his stomach. He manages to just barely catch himself on his hands, and his eyes flutter closed as he feels the sharp drag of Jolly’s fangs against his throat.

“I’d hate to ruin all of this beautiful work,” he murmurs, leaning up further to kiss Noah’s cheek as he reaches down to slowly push his fingers inside of him. Noah hisses and tries to arch away and Jolly soothes a hand up his back. “Easy, pretty boy. I know, this body doesn’t remember how I made you mine.”  

He’s right. Noah’s never done this before, but he forces himself to relax, lowering his chest down against the mattress. Jolly’s free hand pets his hair, whispering words of comfort through his mind. Those words conjure memories of their many nights together, and Noah feels a tear sliding down his face. He’s overwhelmed, but not in a way he doesn’t want to be. It feels like an eternity passes before he starts impatiently begging again.

“I promised you, Noah, didn’t I?” Jolly asks out loud.

Noah nods rapidly and digs his fingers into his own hair. The feeling of Jolly thumbing his cock into him is like nothing he has ever experienced before. The memories don’t do it justice, a steady insistent pressure that makes his eyes roll back in his head. He’s babbling again, out loud, and Jolly makes a delighted noise and rocks into him slowly. He lets him adjust, gives him a few minutes to get used to the feel of him inside. Noah manages another rapid nod, and then he feels a bruising grip on his hips before Jolly pulls out and shoves back in.

He knows he’s not being as rough with him as he could be. He always held back, not treating Noah as if he were fragile, but as if he were human. Even when Noah begs now for him to go harder, he doesn’t. He keeps a deep steady pace, and Noah really hopes that whatever sort of powers Jolly has have soundproofed his room. No one’s come busting in yet to see if he’s dying from the sounds he’s making. The next thing he knows, Jolly’s pulling out of him.

“Why’d you stop?” Noah asks with a whine, only to be roughly yanked over onto his back.

“Because I want to see your face when you come. When I come inside of you. When I—”

“Bite me,” Noah finishes. “I want you to feed from me. I need you to.”

He sounds strung out and desperate to his own ears, and he doesn’t care how much of it is Jolly’s influence over him. A yelp crawls out of his throat when Jolly thrusts back into him, dragging him down onto his cock. Noah starts to reach for his own dock, but Jolly lets out a warning snarl above him and grabs onto his wrists, holding them down to the bed.

“Do you want to know a secret, love?” he leans close. His inhuman eyes burn into Noah’s. “Or rather, do you want another memory that is vital to this moment?”

“What—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish asking before the vision flashes before his eyes; Jolly’s fangs piercing the skin of his neck in one moment and Noah’s orgasm being practically instantaneous in the next. He shakes his head to clear the memory from his mind, before he pushes himself up as much as he can to catch Jolly’s lips with his own. His tongue slides against one of his fangs, not to cut himself but to entice the vampire on top of him.

“Please.” 

He presses himself back into the mattress and turns his head to the side. Jolly leans in, brushing his lips over ink on his throat, mouthing his way to his shoulder instead. Noah can’t protest, he doesn’t care where he bites him, as long as he does it. And when Jolly’s fangs sink in, it’s like two points of heat piercing his skin. Blood overruns Jolly’s mouth down over his chest and onto the sheets and Noah comes all over himself. Jolly comes inside of him at the same moment, and Noah screams. 

Jolly lets go of his wrists, only to wrap himself around Noah and continue to drink from him deeply. There’s a moment of blinding panic that this is it, this is the moment he dies. He can feel it, and the fact that he already knows what it feels like to die terrifies him. He pushes feebly at him, calls his name until his voice finally makes it through and Jolly removes his fangs. The feeling is just as painful.

Noah blinks up at him, watching the way his blood drips off of Jolly’s chin down onto his chest. “Do I need to get a sharp object?”

“You couldn’t move fast enough to do so, Noah. Not like this.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, before Jolly finally moves off of him. Noah brings his hand to the wound on his shoulder and tries to sit up, but he’s shoved back down easily.

“No. This is my mess to clean up. Stay there and let me tend to you.” Jolly demands.

He doesn’t have any choice but to listen, and he closes his eyes, only for a minute.

When he wakes hours later, it’s daylight out and he’s alone in his bedroom. He can hear movement out in the apartment and he manages to pull himself up out of his bed. When he turns back and looks, he expects to see bloody sheets. But they’re the same normal gray they were before. Turning, he rushes to the mirror above his dresser, looking for any wounds left behind. But there’s nothing. His shoulder is fine, there isn’t a drop of blood on him. He grabs a pair of shorts and yanks them on, stumbling out into the living room.

“There you are,” Nicholas says from the sofa. “I thought you died in there. What happened to you last night?”

Noah feels like he’s going to throw up. Was it all some kind of dream? “What do you mean?”

“I mean I saw some guy sneaking out of the apartment just before dawn. I could have sworn we left at the same time, so when did you find the time to bring someone home? Very hot by the way, ten out of ten.”

“You saw him?”

“Uh yeah?” Nicholas’ expression turns confused. “He said he would see you tonight, he didn’t wanna wake you up.”

Immediately, Noah feels relief. He nods like his reaction was normal, and then goes in search of coffee. He doesn’t know what Jolly did to him to make it seem like nothing had happened, but he was going to have to ask. He couldn’t wait for night to fall.

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