#Silent Hill f looks interesting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unveranosinseb0514 · 2 months

Text

Jenson Button: Tv Time

Pairing: Jenson Button x F!reader

Summary: You and Jenson decided to watch a movie together on the couch but things take a different turn and he seems to be interested in something else.

Tw: Minors dni!!!! 18+ Only, Smut, fingering (f receiving), cum eating, Jenson's a bit whipped, teasing (it's Jenson, y'all), a bit fluffy, a little praising, it's kinda...descriptive, sub!reader, dom!jenson, think that's all for now, let me know if i'm forgetting something.

Words: 6k (something around that)

Masterlist

You slowly walked down the stairs, after getting settled in a room between Sebastian and Fernando, knowing that there you could sleep without any noise bothering, both are extremely silent, so it's about to feel like heaven sleeping next to them, it's been a few weeks since you're having a light sleep, any noise might wake you up, and the other two are kinda loud even without meaning to. Suddenly, you stopped at the last step of the stair, catching a glimpse of the last beam of sunlight on the sky, smiling gently.

The house was on the best position on the top of the hill, being relatively high as well, so you could clearly see the sun touching the green hill from the distance, you always appreciated little things and little moments like this, and was tempted to hop on the kitchen island to observe the spectacle of nature before your eyes when you heard a familiar noise coming from the living room. "Sponge Bob...?" You commented quietly to yourself, making a face, walking slowly on the polished floor, the flip-flops doing the minimal noise.

The television was on with Button thrown on the couch, the hand on the remote control, while on the television, Sponge Bob made Krabby Patties. The show was ending but you saw enough to bite your lip and trying to prevent a laugh from getting out, it was an adorable scene, he sure looked bored, not with the cartoon though, every now and then he let out a few smiles or laughs, he was indeed watching.

"Am I disturbing your cartoon watching section?" You asked, laughing a little and taking steps forward, next to the sofa, he quickly turned his head on your direction, bearing a smirk that made you mirror his, it was contagious. "Y/n my darling, come, sit here" the older man said, patting with his slightly heavy hand on his side on the sofa, letting his arm above the backrest, indicating that he wanted you close, and you did that slowly, sitting there comfortably, didn't even had time to adjust, the man quick pulled you closer with the arm that was extended behind your head before, making you let out a squeak, laughing slightly, and seeing him smiling because of the surprised sound you let out.

"I hope you like cartoons, because that's what we're going to watch" Jenson was paying attention to the television with the same smile on his face.

"It's not that i have something against it, but it's so cute to see you watching" he just let out a chuckle, squeezing you to his side, but still, eyes glazed over the screen, giving time to observe him a little, your head on his shoulder, the strong arm behind your back, keeping you practically 'stuck' at his side - not that you complained. The beard was a bit thin, messy, he had some freckles, some gray hairs here and there, his expression lines became more present every time he moved his facial muscles a little....but that only made him more attractive in your eyes, not forgetting his incredible sense of humor, of course. So entertained by the man that you hadn't even noticed that something else started on the television.

Feeling his muscle close to your arm, he still raced at WEC, needing to maintain strong. "You're staring love" the older said next to your ear with a teasing smile on the lips, caressing your arm up and down, the only reaction you could have was to be out o words because you wouldn't thought he would notice, the cheeks warming up a bit and goosebumps down your spine.

Looking at the man's face like an idiot for a few seconds, he knew exactly what he was doing, and while watching, he could feel your eyes all over him, it wasn't that subtle. "I only got distracted! Sponge Bob hasn't held my attention since I was 10" you said playfully, giving a gentle slap on his chest, but he was eyeing you with a small smile, ready to tease "Yeah...but Sponge Bob finished a few minutes ago, the movie now is 'The Incredibles', what's your next excuse now?" His tone was cocky, like someone who just won an argument, that ended up leaving you once again without having anything to say, you took a glance at the television and he was right, at least 20 minutes has already passed since the movie started and you were completely lost in daydreams of his beauty, but luckily, he ended up laughing and seeking the remote control to you "I'm just teasing, silly, here, choose whatever you want"

He had a slightly tender smile on his lips now, staring while keeping you close, and like anyone else who's not boring, you did enjoyed cartoons from time to time, but it sounded more easier lie than just admit that you've been admiring the brit.

You took the remote, not that you were very interested in anything that was on television with this man by your side, but you decided to give the screen a chance, changing the channels until an horror movie came, couldn't quite recall the name, but seemed better than the cartoons.

"a horror movie? You like that kind of stuff?" The man asked, laughing, slightly ruffling your hair at the back of your head, not enough to make you annoyed.

"a lot, to be honest" you said smiling, snuggling right next to him, laying the head on his shoulder in a comfortable way.

Having you close like that made the man let out a light sigh that he didn't know he was holding, almost relieved of having you so close, looking at you more interested than what was going on the screen and you didn't even notice, slowly looking at your whole face, the way your eyes were expressive, the nose slightly raised, cheeks that seemed soft just like the rest of the skin, and naturally pink lips that he so wanted to taste despite the fact that in the back of his head there was still a small voice reminding him that maybe he shouldn't do that, so he cleared the throat quickly and shook his head, trying to pay attention to the movie and take you out of his thoughts.

Listening to the sound he made with his throat, you looked curiously but he was already watching, deciding to just stay quiet and do the same. In practically 15 minutes of film, Jenson did something he always does to distract himself from the thoughts who were still lingering on his mind: talking and being playful.

"nope, you're gonna die" he said shaking his head in the scene where one of the characters went to check on a noise in the house "why are they always so stupid? Of course if you hear a noise in the dark in the middle of the night you'll see what it is" saying as if it were obvious people won't do that, with a tone of indignation while shaking his head, you could only leave a smused smile on your lips, and as soon as the girl's screams were heard while the killer caught her. "Oh, see? Nothing good would come of a noise in the middle of the night in the house"

"And you're telling me that if you heard a noise here in the middle of the night, you wouldn't check it out?" You questioned crossing your arms and arching one of the eyebrows in a playful way.

"I'm curious, but not dumb, I would probably send you or the other boys" he said laughing and squeezing you

"Oh what a gentleman! Honestly even Fernando would go on his own" you blurt having fun, Fernando was known for prioritizing himself too much on the tracks - which is already expected of a driver, but he was a little more -, which It's nothing like the man he is outside of them, but you knew Jenson was just joking.

"and he would be the first to die, love. In the attempt to be the Knight in the shining armor, who does he think he is? Don Quixote? The Spanish version of Lancelot?" You let out a genuine laugh as he chuckled quietly, enjoying seeing that you were amused by his sense of humor.

"Now that you mentioned it, he would look really good as Aramis...or Athos...but you do know that the name of Don Quixote is Alonso, right?" you say slowly, biting your lip at the image, Aramis was the real Don Juan of The Musketeers, so it would probably suit him better, but your thoughts were interrupted by the small shove the older one did playfully to your side, as if he was jealous...and probably, deep down, he was.

"Hey, I'm right here, just because I wasn't the knight? It was a joke...in reality I wouldn't let anyone check and we would all jump the window" he said, burying his nose in your cheek, making you laugh, lightly slapping his thigh which he pretend it hurt, complaining and making a face, stroking there, straightening the legs in a relaxed manner after, he hadn't even noticed, being already used to being spacious, and even if it was tempting the way his big thighs were a bit stiff in this position, he was too relaxed.

"As if your knees could handle this and it's no use, this manspreading won't work on me" you teased him by giving the legs a little push, and only then he did realize. "oh shoot, sorry love"

It was apologetically while closing his legs a little, you were just joking, since you were practically glued to his side, it didn't bother you much, but it was certainly a distraction.

"let's just watch the movie? We've already missed a lot of things" he suggested, and laughing you agreed, as soon as you both snuggled up properly, finally paid a little attention to the plot unfolding on the screen.

Jenson seemed to have other plans, of course he enjoyed your company, to have you close, but he's been seeing you differently lately - not just him -, and having you so close, on the couch, wasn't helping at all with these thoughts he shouldn't have about it, he actually thought about watching the film...but maybe the timing was too perfect for another thing. Slowly, while pretending to pay attention to the screen, he began to gently stroke your arm caressing it while, and since you're watching, it didn't bother, to be honest, it was a welcomed affection, all the men in this house have always been affectionate towards you and the British man is no exception. His fingers slowly felt the softness of your skin, the heat, just below the sleeve of the sweatshirt you were wearing, it was one finger, then two, three... and when you realized, he was caressing and warming you up with his hand, long enough to look at his large hand for a few seconds, which despite its size, had a delicate touch, and the size had a slight contrast with your arm, ending up blinking a few times, quickly looking at the television, not letting the thoughts went where they shouldn't, but the scene in the movie wasn't helping.

The couple was kissing slowly, both sitting on the couch - which seemed like fate was trying to be funny -, the boy slowly put his hand inside the girl's t-shirt, slowly lying down on the sofa, usually this type of scene didn't even affect you, but there was something about the slow kiss, the light smiles at each other, carefree, without knowing what awaits them, the touches that seemed so real that they made you adjust a little on the sofa, letting a low sigh when the boy slide himself between the the girl's legs, you had no idea why a scene like this was affecting you so much, enough to make you have to move, several films had sex scenes...apparently, not like this one, which didn't go unnoticed by the man next to you, he looked slowly for a few seconds, from head to toe but then shifted the gaze at the screen again, and as if he didn't saw anything, still caressing the arm, he used his other hand to make a small caress on your thigh, his thumb slowly moving up and down on the fabric, of course the scene didn't help with what Button was already thinking, you were feeling the tension in the room increase, and for a few seconds you wondered if that was really happening, it was as if he was testing the waters... and actually was, he wanted to know what your reaction would be, if by any chance you would hit his hand or he would get a slap in the face and hear that he's being disrespectful, that you are not ready for any of this, which he would respect and give you space, but you were already starting to feel slight shivers, a certain anticipation in your chest, so you slowly turned your face, watching the man who feigned interest in the film at that point. Thinking that maybe he wasn't just being affectionate as usual. With some shyness, feeling the great, not so intoxicating perfume of the older man, you got close enough to leave him a kiss at the base of his neck, when you realized that the man hadn't moved away or said anything, you gave him another kiss slowly above the other, and one more, which made him humm, adjusting a little on the sofa and sliding his hand from your arm to waist, making a small caress there, his hands in a sneaky way touching the skin there underneath of the hooded sweatshirt, making you relax a little, the feeling of his hand there scared at first because you weren't expecting it, but his touch felt good.

"can i ask you something, darling?" The voice was low because you both were close, slowly facing him after that. "you just did, but go ahead" your tone was playful, which made him leave a smile on his beautiful lips, and for the first time looking a bit serious, which made you feel your cheeks heating up, your shoulder was leaning against the taller one's side, close enough, the tension palpable.

"have you ever...touched yourself?"

The question was personal, your cheeks gained even more color, probably should have already expected at this point that it would be something like that... but perhaps the fact that you had never talked about it out loud with anyone... left you embarrassed, even more so being with him, even after what you all talked about in the kitchen...you wouldn't get used to talking about it out of nowhere, so you just let out a blushing laugh. "You know that...just as you have... desires... I also have... but I never... put my fingers inside, I was afraid it would hurt" you admitted somewhat ashamed, which he let a chuckle escaped, using his hand that was previously on the thigh for your hair, slowly adjusting it, caressing your face with his knuckles right after, knowing that this had made you slightly shy so he tried to comfort with the touch and a careful smile. "Really? Those tiny little fingers?" He teased, reaching for one of your hands and making you open it, placing your palm on his hand, the difference appearing immediately, his fingers were bigger, a little thick... which was to be expected, but that made you playfully roll your eyes and intertwine your fingers.

"Ha ha ha, tiny compared to yours!" You commented, laughing slowly, the tension was still there, for a few seconds you just stared at each other, the older man's hand still gently caressed your waist.

"You're right...so what do you do then, huh? Play with your clit?" He whispered with his face close, your face coming alive again at how direct he had been just now, just letting a small smirk appear on your pinkish lips. "That's a bit too much information"

"alright...fair enough, let's put it that way, love...what if i say i want to touch you? What if i say i can make you feel good and show you that it doesn't have to be painful?" You remained quiet while the man gave a proposal, to be honest, deep down inside you didn't need to think, the answer was a solid yes! but something made you hesitate, maybe the size of his hand, which would be in unexplored parts, but the desire to have him touching you was greater, so you simply nodded, agreeing. "I need to hear you."

"yes...just don't get too ahead of yourself" you said, to which he just smiled and nodded slowly, understanding what you meant by that.

He slowly slipped his fingers further inside your sweatshirt and blouse, making a lazy caress, he slowly approached your face and began to kiss gently, wanting to relax you, when the kisses reached your neck, you couldn't help but let out a sigh, closing eyes and tilting the head to the side, giving him more space to explore the neck, after all, it was a sensitive place, and it sent goosebumps through your body, while the man's hand continued to feel the skin of your stomach, moving up gently, lightly touching the underside of your breasts, which made you adjust a little, slightly impatient to have him touch where you wanted, which didn't go unnoticed, he let a low laugh come out, biting your neck near your collarbone, making you whimper. "Impatient are we?" Joking, he plastered a somewhat smug smile on the lips, you were about to complain when his fingers slowly entered your pants, your hand grabbing on the same arm that kept you pressed against his side.

Butterflies hit your stomach at the new sensation of someone else's hand in such an intimate place, but as soon as the older man started playing with the hem of your panties, you almost gasped, of course you were comfortable with him, you felt comfortable enough to let him do what no one has ever done, because you trusted him...still, it's not like you're used to that kind of touch.

"Relax..." He whispered next to your ear, nibbling on your neck to distract just a bit, already feeling your skin a little hot, the slick between your folds dripping slowly on your panties, and that only with his touch and teasing. Button liked how sensitive to touch you seemed to be, and as much as he was tempted to just slide his fingers in and finally explore what he wanted so much...he enjoyed teasing and didn't wanted to overwhelm you all of sudden.

The film, long forgotten on television, you couldn't even hear anything other than your heart beating strongly - almost in your ears - and the breathing of the man close to your neck as he gave light bites and kisses. His hand slowly slid past the hem of the panties, all below your clothes, and those seemed to be becoming too hot as the minutes passed.

"Hey, Hey, Look at me" he asked with such a low and soft voice to hear, and slowly you did so, he took a few seconds to admire with an intense look, your eyes were half-lidded, the pupils starting to dilate, temperature a bit high and breathing slightly faltering, he had a half shit-eating grin on his face from seeing how little things affected you, but that was probably because it's him, it would be difficult not to be affected by everything he does.

With no time to waste, he kissed you, slowly, carefully, successfully distracting you from his two fingers that crept closer to their destination. You relaxed too much into the kiss, taking one of your hands to the older man's face, slowly pulling closer, caressing his facial hair with the tips of your fingers. A long, calm and patient kiss. Him, taking advantage of the fact that you were distracted, didn't miss it, gently sliding his colder fingers between your pussy lips, rubbing one of them on your clit for the first time, which made you moan softly in the middle of the kiss, not expecting the touch.

"shit... you're really wet" he voiced out, letting a small laugh escape, surprised.

Seeing him speaking so confidently while letting his fingers explore your pussy made you feel a pulse there, which he certainly felt too, your clit already throbbing, begging for attention after such light touch.

"J-Jenson" you moaned softly against his lips after the kiss with his fingers moving slowly and delicately, as if he wanted to remember the feeling of sliding his digits in such a warm and wet place, especially tight, what he felt when sliding his middle finger up to your entrance, lazily playing with the bundle of nerves with his thumb while the other pressed just a little on your glistening entrance, putting just the tip of his finger inside, already feeling how tight it was, which made you moan his name again and tremble slightly from the new sensations, he couldn't help but let out a groan that was on the back of his throat.

"that's right baby, say my name" he whispered close to your lips and placed a few kisses on your neck. As the seconds passed, you only got wetter, his touch was so careful, the caress was precise anyway, you knew he could make you Come lazily and that would still bring tears in your eyes from the intensity.

You tilted your head back a little, squirming, crying out small moans on his side with him flicking your clit a bit faster now, spreading a few times your inner lips to slide his big digit against your entrance, just teasing and sometimes pressing there but never putting in too far, as much as he was just tempted to shove his fingers into you with how wet you were, coating him slowly with your juices, what you both knew by the sensation and the slick noises it made because of the friction. This was getting too much for him, he started to play with your clit even more, your legs shaking slightly with the sudden change of pace.

"I'm gonna put one finger inside, okay?" He whispered with the breathing a little messy, almost as if asking for permission, and you couldn't respond properly, so with your eyes almost closed you just shook your head quickly, letting him do it.

Calmly he pressed his thumb on the most sensitive place while pushing his coated middle finger inside you, only stopping when his first knuckle was inside, and immediately he felt the velvet walls gripping his finger like it longed to be filled by something.

It was a strange sensation for you at first, after all, you had never dared to put anything in there, and even though Button's fingers were a little large, the feeling was far from uncomfortable, at this point, oddly enough, you already felt a slight warm sensation in your lower belly, and as soon as he started moving his finger slowly and your moans became a little louder and more frequent along with the squelch noises being more present, he couldn't take it.

"alright, i need to see you baby, fuck, i need to see that pussy, i bet it looks so beautiful all wet for me" he whispered somewhat desperately, breatheless still, as he used his other hand to hurriedly pull down your pants, you raised your legs a little, slightly trembling, to help him.

Despite everything you were already doing, hearing him talking like that made your face heat up, it seemed so shameful.

He threw the pants away, letting out a small growl when the big wet spot on your orange panties appeared, which he quickly discarded on the floor as well, and in one swift move he manhandled you to sit on one of his thick thighs, keeping your back pressed against his chest, not exactly sitting but in a position he could look at it closer and better. "keep your legs spread for me baby, that's it" he asked, slapping your thigh twice without much force, the man's breathing was almost the same as yours, but he couldn't help but let out a groan seeing the treasure you had between your legs, made his eyes shine, tempted to just throw you on the couch and eat you out like it's the last thing he'll do.

Mesmerized, letting his fingers slide to your glistening pussy, welcoming his already slick fingers so easily, it was shining in the light, his fingers seemed big there on the same espace, only then you realized the mess you made with just his touch, while releasing whimpers, your cheeks grew even hotter.

"baby look at you... God you're soaking, so fucking beautiful" he said in a low tone, still admiring you, now that he could see what he was doing, everything had become better.

"J-Jenson...baby please...please touch me" you begged in a low voice, thrusting your hips a little, to make him slide his finger where it was before

"what? I'm already touching you, love" he teased, pressing and rubbing in a slightly mean way, with force, his thumb in your little bundle of nerves, your body gaining a jolt of pleasure that made your legs shake and you moan his name, feeling the smile on the older man's lips who loved to tease you, and as much as you wanted to slap him to make make him stop that, your mind was more focused on begging, you never needed someone's touch as much as you do now.

"Goddamn, please!...please...want your fingers inside...so bad" wiggling softly on his thigh, he let a low chuckle and just as you were about to ask again without any shame in begging for it, he placed his strong arm under your breasts, keeping you pressed there while holding the hem of your hooded sweatshirt and without much delay he pushed his middle finger against your entrance, this time putting it all the way in, making you squirm but he held you with some force, not letting you move too much.

In meantime he was moving his finger, nothing too strong or forceful, but fast, which made you moan a little sweet and louder, forgetting that you weren't alone at home, but it was difficult to control, the feeling was so good, you squeezed a little more the arm that was around you, with your eyes closed and head leaning against his warm body. Without any warning, he slowly introduced another finger, both his middle and ring finger knuckles deep inside you by now, and because of the size, you thought they might hurt, but you were wrong...oh you were so wrong, it only gave it more pleasure, made your legs shake for the dozen time.

He moved them rather quickly now, as you felt the pressure in your lower belly increase, the British bit his lower lip slowly, closely observing how your body reacted, he relished the fact that he was the one doing this to you, leaving you all warm, red, sweaty, wet and sensitive, begging for his touch, getting lightheaded, things you're experiencing for the first time in the best way, you were never this helpless when you touched yourself.

"Look at that...fuck... you're dripping, you're taking my fingers so well..."

He praises close to your ear, leaving a slow bite on the earlobe, extremely concentrated on the movements of his own fingers "Open your eyes, look at the mess you're making, or I'll stop"

He demanded on purpose, his voice was soft but you knew he would stop, he could see how difficult it was to keep your eyes open from the pleasure so you forced them to stay like that looking down, his fingers appearing and disappearing inside you in a quick pace, the wetter you stayed, the more the sounds seemed so erotic, the most sloppiest sounds ever, your juices were literally dripping down and wetting his sweatpants by now, which made you a bit embarrassed but he just loved the sight.

"Good girl"

Obviously that sent a wave straight to your core, making you squeeze his fingers tighter inside, which he definitely felt and made him laugh next to your ear "hum, do you like that darling? Of course you do...you like when i praise you huh?" His tone had a bit of mockery but amusement as well, he enjoyed that fact, enjoyed how much power he suddenly had over this, over your body, over your incoming orgasm.

"P-Please...please more...f-faster" you whined between the moans, it wasn't enough to make you reach the edge with the pace his fingers had now, but it was enough to make you cream everything, and the older man decided to give you some relief, thinking that he had already provoked you too much for a first time, and suddenly curved his fingertips, reaching an area he hadn't touched yet, pressing the tip of his fingers on that spongy side against your walls where nobody had ever touched, not even you, and that made almost a wave of pleasure go through all your body that made you bite the hand so you don't moan too loudly.

It felt wonderful, he knew he had found the right place with his hands, that seemed to be so skilled, and soon enough he was pumping his fingers relentlessly, pressing down that place like a button everytime, making you almot putty in his arms, a moaning mess by now, your eyes closed, whimpering incoherent things, the man whispering some sinful things on your hear just to feel you grip his fingers harder because he knew exactly what made you clench your walls, what made your legs shake and you adjust on his lap, and when he started to also press the palm of his hand on your clit...almost made you come right there.

All the sensations were practically overwhelming, you were almost over there, the pressure in your womb a bit too much to hold it in, the wave was coming slightly faster with everything he was doing down there, and he knew it. "You're close, aren't you, pretty girl?" He whispered in a tantalizing way, but you couldn't speak, only moan, mutter a few sweet "please"'s but you shook your head quickly and desperate, that was all he needed to press his palm even more on the most sensitive part between your legs and move the fingers a bit harder, almost making you cry out, shaking all over, on his lap, your breath faultering, it was coming and it was coming hard, you never felt anything like this in your entire life, it wasn't the usual sensation of an orgasm...that time it seemed like it had more.

"Alright, come for me love, come on, you deserve it, you've been such a good girl"

And you didn't have to be told twice, just letting be drive over the edge with his fingers, you moaned louder when the orgasm finally hit, him having to slide his free hand to keep your legs open since you tried closing them by the intensity, but what actually surprised you was seeing you squirt on his hand and his pants, wetting everything, with him groaning and praising you afterwards, and if you thought you were a mess before, you should see it now.

It was so intense that your whole body was shaking, breathing was uneasy, face was red, the body was a little sweaty, while the Brit had a satisfied smile on his lips, his cock stiff in his pants because it was so goddamn hot to watch you unravel with his fingers and on his hold. He kept moving his fingers slowly to let you ride it out your orgasm, and when you finally stopped, spent, he took out his fingers carefully, hearing you whimper because you got a bit sensitive, because of the loss of contact too, not hesitating to simply suck his fingers, humming while he said so "you're delicious love, do you want a taste?"

You just opened your eyes lazily, adjusting your head closer, kissing his lips, gently and calmly, putting his tongue in your mouth so you could taste yourself there, turning it into a wet kiss but still in a way, careful. He knew you're a bit shaky after what happened, wasn't thinking straight...in fact you weren't exactly thinking at all. It took all his strength to not simply bury his head between your legs to clean you with his tongue, but you were already too sensitive, he did slide his fingers on your folds one last time, which you let out a small sound, almost protesting, his touch wasn't harmful though, he just wanted to taste you a bit more, sucking his fingers glistening again, making your face warm a bit more...jesus, he really enjoyed that...he looked like he had just tasted the sweetest thing ever and he couldn't get enough, you could clearly see on his expression that, the satisfaction after what he has done.

You felt him hard close to your body, and before you made any movement, even if tired, about to help, he quickly adjusted your position carefully and placed you back on the couch, lying down this time. "but...Jens-"

"no, no, everything was about you today, don't worry about me, relax baby, you seem tired" the man said in a soft and calm voice, his accent making your heart flutter a bit.

He got up only to grab your panties and pants, he seemed a bit out of breath...it was kinda intense for him as well, not the same for you of course, but it did made his breath faulter. He made a small caress on your waist while carefully dressing you, your legs were a little wobbly after the orgasm, and he remained there until you seemed to have returned at least a bit to normal, having the hair adjusted by him, slowly, while he looked a bit tenderly, it somewhat made you feel warm and fuzzy inside...it was intense but it had a caring touch. "That was...so good though..." You blurted out, a little embarrassed but with a satisfied smile on your face, your breathing still returning to normal, heart returning to it's normal frequency, and for him, seeing that you enjoyed yourself was more than enough to make him happy.

"I'm glad you enjoyed, darling... because i really, really did" He sent you a wink, making you scoff in a funny way, taking off your hooded sweatshirt with his help because the body was too warm after the activities you just did, staying only with your blouse.

"believe me...i know you did" you joked, both of you laughing relaxedly now, like good friends who clearly seemed to have something going on between them.

"you okay? I didn't hurt you, right?" He was serious now, eyeing you for an answer, giving him a smile, you just shake your head in a negative way before answering properly.

"No Jense, it was awesome, it did leave me a bit lightheaded, didn't thought it could be that...intense, but i'm okay" you assured him, giving his hand a light squeeze, and only when he saw on your eyes you were actually okay, that he saw you were being sincere. "By the way...i'm sorry about your...pants" you whispered gently, shy when you got a proper glimpse of the big wet spot on his thigh, but he smiles, looking down, rubbing his fingers there.

"You should already know that I don't mind...plus that was sexy as hell" he made a voice deep and sighed like he almost got turned on talking about that, you couldn't help but laugh and turn your head to look away, trying to not stay too shy. "alright! I get it..."

The man arranged a pillow behind your head, lifting your legs so that they were in his lap, starting to deliberately massage there while he watched you, comfortably in silence. Jenson was simply sweet, and it was so good that you didn't even feel like talking about what just happened, about what meant this that both of you did in the heat of the moment, but there wasn't an ounce of regret in him or in you, so maybe it would be better to wait for another day, you' didn't want to disturb the peaceful moment between you two...you didn't felt like you had to question that now...you both shared something intense and intimate, it should be simple...but you'll probably wonder why later.

#imagine #smut #f1 #f1 x reader #jenson button #jenson button smut #jenson button imagine #f1 smut

384 notes · View notes

dustymeadows-if · 8 months

Text

Dust particles flow in the air, shimmering with golden light of the sun. They rise to the sky, equally golden and hazy. Your mind is empty. There is no single memory in your head. Only one thought is ringing in your brain.

You must walk forward. Walk until your feet begin to bleed. Walk until your shoes fall apart.

And for some reason you can't oppose this thought.

This is your road to Damascus.

Dusty Meadows is a short interactive story set in post-WW1 world. It's a small psychological adventure that will take you through the scarred European fields. Wander the abandoned trenches, scorched forests, poisonous valleys and silent, deadly no man's land.

You don't remember anything. The feelings, however, still linger. Feelings like pain, grief and bitter longing. Your body is mutilated, but you feel no physical pain. It's your soul that aches. It's as if an important piece of it was heartlessly ripped off. This pain urges you to go forward. The answers might lie just behind the next hill or river. Your life depends on returning. Returning your soul. Returning your memories. Returning your life. Returning home.

That is, if there's anything left for you to return to at all.

Customizable MC: choose your gender, appearance, personality and name (if you can remember it, of course).

Meet the cast of various charachters: you're not the only one wandering and seeking these desolate lands. Talk to other wayfaring souls, listen to their stories. Maybe even share the same road and experience strangely deep bond with some of them...

Return your memories: remove the shroud from your past. Remember how you got here. Remember what hides behind the scars on your body. But be wary: some memories are forgotten for a reason.

Explore different locations: travel through the remains of war, learn what happened there and remember what binds you to these places.

Maintain your sanity: nobody said that battlefields are safe even after the war. Your mind is as scarred as your body, and sometimes memories crash like tidal waves. Whether you'll hold the line or succumb to the dark depths - is up to you and you only.

Tired Infantryman - Basile (M)

This man could be a definition of word "apathy". Everything about him is grey: both literally and figuratively. Dressed in grey-bluish trenchcoat, covered in grey dust, he looks at you with dull grey eyes. Even in his dark brown hair you can see grey strands, although he's still pretty young. He doesn't seem to be interested in anything around him, except for his cigarettes. His left arm is missing, and you can't help but wonder what's the story behind this.

Frozen Operator - Johann (M)

He is... a weird man. Tall and muscular like someone working in the fields all day long. But at the same time his skin is the palest and the coldest you've ever seen, and his eyes are sunken as if he was spending many sleepless nights doing paperwork. He's also the only one without any visible wounds, which is very unusual to see in this place. Johann seems like a kind and outgoing man, but he hides something deep in his heart.

Blind Journalist - Gelsomina (F)

Upper half of her face is covered with bandages, but even so you can tell she's a very beautiful woman. Dark blood stains over the place where her eyes were never seem to fully dry. She is much alike that blood: restless almost to despair. This woman will either find peace or die, and the least seems to be most likely. Losing her eyes was a hard hit: she can't see, she can't write, she can't do her job which had always meant life for her. She lost every reason to live, but the fire of her stubbornness is blazing hard, keeping her alive and eating her from inside at the same time.

Wayward Nun - Jolan (F)

She is a strange sight. Dressed in nun robes which covers her whole body, she also wears a gas mask which she refuses to ever take off. This woman is like a walking fortress of her own, cutting off every direct contact with the outer world. She barely speaks, preferring simple gestures, or rather, not communicating at all. You don't know what she looks like, what she sounds like, but here's one thing you know for sure: guilt is seeping through every crack of her thick defense.

Demo - TBA

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #interact if #if wip #dashingdon #choice of games #hosted games #dusty meadows

164 notes · View notes

delicrieux · 8 months

Text

𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫, 3. summer 1972, late august

pairing for this chapter—sirius black x f!lestrange!reader warnings for this chapter—sirius hates his brother word count—4.3k

in which you show an act of bravery worthy of a gryffindor. if the come up, that is, wasn't so inherently slytherin.

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | ttp masterlist | < back | next >

all of sirius' records are bought by andromeda. no one ever speaks of her. it’s bad luck. might split the sky in half, or disentangle the galaxy and all of its atoms; unravel it all, suddenly, like aunt druella falling to her knees at the mention of a well-loved name. she claimed a fainting spell, but you knew. the lights were particularly dim that evening at dinner.

no matter, you're well-meaning enough not to bother. everyone is allowed their own interests. you find it in the depths of father’s coffee cup and the curious hills and swirls the grounds make as they dry. how they shift in the wispy morning light, or become swallowed by your shadow. andromeda’s lay in things not known by the lestranges, or perhaps things frowned upon. she mails her curiosities to sirius via the muggle post. when a strange man appeared at the gates of the lestrange manor, everyone had fallen into a frenzy. the whole household, all twenty-some-or-more staff and four inhabitants (discontent house-elf and mother excluded).

this foreign officer referred to himself as 'the postman,' whatever that meant. grumpily (he was left standing in the rain, see), he shoved a parcel into your affronted butler's hands and demanded a signature. no quill, only a slim, plastic tube that clicked irritably when pressed by his finger. you and regulus watched this whole display out the second floor window, leaning over the ledge for a better look. a whole variety of things came to sirius, it was revealed, all of it contraband in a sort, to your knowledge. a bit of illicit music, a few letters with charmingly fancy stamps. a card titled Miss you that you just managed to save as rabastan threatened to throw it into the fire. a glossy magazine you and regulus were allowed to browse through briefly, only to see for yourselves the unmoving, ugly muggle world.

of course, sirius didn't know of any of this – it was stored away without his knowledge of its arrival. locked up in the attic, where all unpleasant things lie. you and regulus and the staff were sworn to secrecy. sirius musn't ever know his disgraced cousin is sending him strange things and corrupting his impressionable mind. you didn't mean to linger, or listen, or intrude. the pool laid waiting for you, and regulus, impatient by your side, tugged on your sleeve. a plea to leave before your brothers went on a tangent. so many new words to learn. this was, however, the most interesting thing to happen all summer, overshadowing even the long awaited wedding. a muggle postman under the lestrange roof. bella, if she was not away, would have thrown a fit to be outshined by such a thing.

that very night, you sneak out of your room. the hallways are dark in spots where moonlight doesn’t spill; the portraits are asleep, and the landscapes are quiet. the soft echoes of your bare feet against the cool tiles of the flooring make you shudder in your linen. summer heat lingers by the ceiling, though the nights are usually chilly. you creep silently, as you have many times before. you are quite adept, a child who can't seem to stay put no matter the trouble it may cause. and this may cause quite the bit.

you wander to the attic, mind the seventh step with the creaky floorboard, and ascend slowly. patience is a virtue, and when you really want, you possess wells of it. here, the dark is thick, almost tangible, and how and where you move is more thanks to memory than sight. though the dust burns at your eyes, they do eventually adjust, and the outline of a shape becomes easier to see.

austere, sparse. only the sooty remains of old armouries are left. furniture gone to rot, and masses of small boxes and unattended bookshelves. never a pleasant place, even during the day. it sits right above mother's room, and you try to avoid this part of the house entirely. a blind spot, like the corner of your eye. nothing well is ever found here, and you never come searching.

a bit of fumbling and you locate the parcel. it would be good to bring everything, but it's quite heavy, and you'd rather not risk it. you'll let sirius know of his hidden belongings once you have surprised him. you are not as selfless to inform him instantly, no. no, no, to miss an opportunity as this would be a great loss. how else would you show a bravery than going against the collective wishes of the black and lestrange families and blindly grabbing around in the dark for his cousin's gifts?

you sort through the things. lay them gently beside your feet; hear the roll of a crystal charm as it travels down the room and gets lost in a shrouded corner. you thought of waiting for a few days. spun a great tale of being watched and trying to get the presents to him as quick as possible, only to amplify the intensity of it all. your attention span waned an hour into your promise to keep this secret.

you grab for a record and flee. sirius likes music the most. this will make him happy.

carrying your load through the manor's quiet maze, your senses prickle at each shadow. perhaps someone is following you, or you can hear them whispering. the slightest tinge of an anxious feeling comes and goes with each breath. when you were little, regulus needed to hold your hand through the dark, since sirius was too old and too cool for that at eight. the manor at night made his pulse jump under his skin and then, you were the braver of the pair. now, reggie doesn't need your help, and neither do you need his. you’d prefer his quiet reluctance beside you. a want to continue but being too cowardly to make the first step. you’d march together. should you have invited him?

no, sirius wouldn’t like that. he prefers his brother out of sight.

at last, sirius' bedroom door presents itself before you. the faint whistle of the wind rattles the windows. instinctively, you grab for a hand that isn’t there.

you hope he isn’t asleep. he’s too grown to go to bed at an early hour. he must see you in motion, so brave in delivering contraband. contraband is a new word you've learned recently, and you quite enjoy saying it. contraband. this record is the first in, what you presume, a long line of suspicious items you will have to sneak. it will all be worth the effort.

you rap on the door. one. two, three. a forth one for safe measure. no response.

"sirius! i have a gift," you whisper, leaning in close. your cheek presses onto the cool, glossy surface, and thunder rumbles somewhere far overhead. it is not the prettiest song, but you like how deep it is. and sometimes, late at night, when the dark is very deep and the manor is quiet as the grave, you like to hide under the covers, "sirius?" you add, and a beat passes, and it occurs to you might be sleeping.

your plans of grandeur are deflated a little. what is the point of a secret if he isn't there to be surprised?

then, the handle clicks. slowly, cautiously, the door creaks open just enough for him to stick out his head. he's pouting. his gaze flickers, a nervous twitch, "why are you awake?" his voice is raspy from sleep, and his cheeks are splotchy, "aren't you scared of the dark?"

of course not, you had told yourself that the whole trek over. he waits patiently for an answer, despite how tired and annoyed he appears. your heart pounds at the sight. his hair looks funny, tousled. a wave falls over his forehead and the rest stands in spikes. you wonder if regulus' hair will do that in the morning. at breakfast, likely not. if you came to wake him unannounced, it likely would. how embarrassed he’d be.

you hold the record close to your chest, but not too tightly. sirius had once said they are fragile and can shatter if handled unkindly. still, you fear your arms might crush it if the rumble of the thunder shakes it from your grasp, like it would a robber caught red-handed.

"it isn't scary," you try, and tentatively hold out the present, "this came for you. but no one let you have it because, you know, well. it's from, er, you know." can’t say her name, even to someone that would prefer to hear it.

you can imagine a carousel of thoughts whirring madly behind his face. shock. surprise. delight. gratitude. so much more. it's impossible to catch everything, not even in the blip of light. thunder rolls.

"thank you," is his only response. he perks up as he takes his present. perhaps he had gotten over the surprise a bit quickly, or he had expected this to be sent to him all along, but nonetheless, it seems he is rather touched. at least that's what you assume by how happy he's acting, like an eager puppy, "let's go to my bed, 'kay? i've got a record player over there. come on."

you rush after quickly, not one to miss such an opportunity. the room douses in a dim light with a flick of his wand. there are books and clothes and posters slew on every surface and corner, and you overstep a pair of expensive linen trousers carelessly tossed on the rug. next to the bed sits a heavy trunk. he must've been packing. a red and gold scarf peaks over the edge. yours to be, surely.

the space goes mute and settles. like a pop in your ears after travelling via portkey, the sound returns after a small discomfort. a silencing spell. his wand clatters onto the bedside table. you had picked yours only a few days ago, but didn’t dare touch it since you grasped it for the first time.

when you settle into bed beside him, and he sets up the contraption and places the needle, it sings in the quiet. he lowers the volume just a bit.

"muggles like big music, don't they," you remark, though you do rather like it, if it makes him grin so, "can we dance? please?"

a crack, finally, along with thunder. his face splits into a grin, "of course! but a bit quieter. don't want the whole estate to catch you here. come on, now,"

so the pair of you jump and whirl about his room. you're sure he knows real muggle dances. it's very different from waltz, not smooth at all, more free, and not nearly as dignified. but oh, the beats!

as the song finishes and the music winds down, your head spins. not from dizziness, but from pure, unbridled glee. his face matches the feeling. sirius claps, as if he had never been satisfied before now, as if a curtain had gone down. he smiles broadly, a full mouth of teeth, “imagine what people would say if they saw us."

you mirror his expression, "it’s horrendous, isn't it? such disgrace."

a smile and a titter escapes him.

"a terrible affair," he gives a nod to no one, the empty bedroom and his possessions, "it would displease my family greatly. i will never dance another way again."

“what of waltz?”

“what’s that?”

"oh dear, the absolute scandal!" you clasp your hands together in horror, though really, you don't mind at all, "they shall call you a heretic and a bumptious imbecile. surely. won't that be dreadful? your reputation will be ruined."

"utterly! completely ruined. mother will burn my portrait out the family tree."

"what a messy business. tragic. whatever are you to do, young sir black?"

his words and gesticulations and silly faces make you a bit warm. this is quite something to be cherished. him, in his lonely, messy room, and the mellow candlelight. the rain pouring. a nice and pretty tune in the air. dancing is one of your favourite pastimes, besides flying and stargazing.

"hey, wanna play pretend?" he inquires, plopping back onto his bed.

you snort, dropping the audacious accent, "isn't that what we've been doing?"

he shakes his head, though his lips curl and his eyes roll fondly. "different sort. c'mere."

you perch beside him, your head level with his shoulder. his eyes are very shiny. if he told you a story, you wouldn't have trouble believing him, since they tell more than his voice ever would. but that'd be cheesy, and you'd never hear the end of it, if you told him the same. his knee bumps into yours. his head falls forward, just a bit, "tell me a secret."

"tell me a secret."

"no, go first. my secrets are boring, your's are, uh. mysterious. and interesting. and a whole bunch better. pretty please. can i have a hint?"

the compliment, you have to admit, flatters you. so does his prodding and pleading, all his wheedling and how adorable he looks while doing it.

you think of an answer carefully, a plan already forming, "well…someday, i'm going to have to marry, right?"

he groans, "merlin, no, don't tell me you're also thinking of this nonsense?"

your thoughts scramble to change, like little ducklings hurrying away from an unpleasant sound. you frown, a bit ashamed to be rebuffed so unkindly, or you should, but he's still staring at you intently, waiting for you to elaborate. like you had assumed, all boys think weddings silly. sirius is no different.

"is it wrong to think about that? i mean, someday you're going to be married, too," you deflect, "in the future," the distant one, because a child like him cannot comprehend that. or perhaps he can. after all, he will be growing into a man soon, "and besides, with bella's wedding, i suppose it got me thinking."

he has, strangely enough, become flustered. his freckles are darker across his nose, "who says i'll get married?"

"don't you have to?"

"no," he answers defiantly, crossing his arms. how defensive he is suddenly! but with how fidgety he is, it must be a sore subject. perhaps he is being affected more than you'd guessed.

"you're the heir, though," you muss. it's very unlikely walburga won't entangle him into some arrangement. you're sure she already has some sort of ideas for sirius. they are likely being executed as you speak, "you have to make kids to carry on the family, no?"

the odd, stressed look on his face almost breaks your resolve.

"we don't have to do that," he states.

that's news to you, and, logically, seems to be rather improbable. that means you don't have to get married, either. at least you won't have to carry out the other portion of marital duties, of which you are far more squeamish, "hmm," you manage, but you're not convinced. it seems quite rational to you that you should follow the pattern set by generations.

"why would you even want to get married?" he grumbles. the question comes off snottier than intended, "like i'd want some girl telling me how to behave all the time."

"we aren't allowed much choice in the matter."

"the more reason not to, right?"

this conversation had taken a sudden turn, and a sickly, squirmy feeling has taken a seat on the bed between the two of you. the dance music has finished, and the sound of rain overpowers the room. the record spins and crackles.

"we can run away."

the suddenness of his declaration makes the both of you pause, staring at the carpet and bedspread respectively. it’s not a fully formulated thought. can’t be, and in your endless compassion and innate ability to forget audacious ideas, secrets, and suggestions at a moment’s notice, you decide that he never spoke of this, for what he suggested is a breach of trust so careless and terrible that you begin to worry what else lays on his mind. must be many things such as this, dangerous, modern ideas ready to spring free given the proper climate. and the climate is warm, here, built on your friendship and your inability to refuse him.

you decide he had been caught up in the heat of a moment. harmless, silly. he asked you to play pretend, after all.

he amends before the silence could deafen him: "it'll be just the both of us."

you don’t want to listen to this, not in his room, not in your linen, not with the night singing against the windows and the record scratching at the needle. the spin is mesmerizing. he’s older and should understand the implications better. you don’t want to be the one to understand. to be rational, when you only ever wish to be carefree.

you laugh, and it sounds a tad awkward, but what a great big joke! sirius is always funny, "of course. we could live on a raft, or in muggle london. recon there wouldn’t be much of a difference. or perhaps a particularly cosy cave in the scottish highlands. with the sheep."

his eyes narrow, miffed. "i’m serious.”

“don’t suppose i need an introduction, do i?” you smile, but it doesn’t break his frown.

“we can run away.” he says, quite firmly. no more playing, then, “the both of us together," he adds, flicking his eyes away from you. his voice wavers.

"we can't just go and leave,” you start gently, “there's, well, a lot to explain. they’d catch us, too, quickly, i recon. our families. i can’t work, my hands are delicate, even if sheep are a riot. we’d have no galleons.”

"i'd work."

stubborn prat.

"stupid, you're twelve."

"almost thirteen."

"your birthday's not till november," you retort hotly, "therefore: you're twelve. how can you even consider proposing such a stupid scheme?"

his tone shifts, anger showing itself, "don't call it stupid. you haven't thought of a better one!"

you take a deep breath, and fight the childish impulse to sock him on the jaw, "i'm not the only suggesting we run away. that's- you just suggested it, first, no less! all of the sudden!"

"yes! yes, i did, but you were supposed to agree."

you can barely find the words to reply. he just gets so impossibly brattish when he's not having his way, "we can’t leave. that’s positively mental. and we can't leave reggie."

he bristles at the mention of the name, "he's not my problem."

that hurts. for some reason, this cut is especially sharp and stinging, "don't say that. he's your brother."

"only by blood."

such callous words make your face burn. what's this coming from? his posture shifts, back perfectly straight and shoulders taut. this can only mean that his emotions have overcome him. that is never good, "blood is important, though."

his dark eyes glimmer and there's a storm building, something inscrutable, a bad feeling. your mouth goes dry. you had said the wrong thing, a terrible thing. he shan't ever forget or forgive you for this. not to mention the topic itself. these are very dangerous and tender and frightfully unknown waters. you cross your arms and huff, feeling especially very small, "how can you hate him, anyway, when he adores you so much?"

the hard glint in his eyes doesn't leave. in fact, he appears to grow taller and paler with the turn of conversation, or perhaps his skin had always been a rather milky white. his words are colder still, "why are you always defending him?"

"regulus has never done anything bad," your protest is weak. and that isn't what he wants to hear, "he loves you."

"you should be on my side."

"but, why are there sides to begin with?" your tongue feels big in your mouth, and a weird taste bubbles, like metal and rust and salt, "you're brothers, you shouldn't fight."

"he's a rat."

"sirius!"

"and an idiot," he grumbles, "and selfish. a tosser. stop defending him."

this is awful. to see him with such a harsh expression and to be berated as though you're an awful friend and a liar, "stop it."

"what? he's not worth the trouble of you protecting him."

"leave him alone."

"he should leave you alone."

you wince and jerk away. how has everything gotten out of hand so fast? this is his bedside. you brought him a gift, and you danced, and he spoke kindly, and now this. you bite your tongue. your teeth press a bit too hard, “you’re being awful.”

he doesn’t seem to hear you, "why do you even like him anyway?" he sulks. a funny word to describe a very unhappy young man.

"quit it."

"are you fond of him?"

"please, shut up."

"more than me?"

silence. the world tilts, just so slightly, to the right, and spins just a tad bit too fast. does he really dislike his little brother so much? you understand he may feel a twinge of annoyance sometimes, a tad of passive resentment every other hour, which is simply understandable and probably half-decent for brothers, especially those that have nearly nothing in common and no sort of trust. but, there's the matter of an absolute hatred for someone that does no wrong, that would never, by anyone's means, ever hate you back. that isn't fair. it's only heart-breaking.

perhaps you've done wrong not to believe regulus when he confided sirius was terribly cruel to him at times. the thought stings, an acidic sort of shame. regulus wouldn't lie, he's not very good at it. you've only ever seen him sweet and obedient, a boy very different from his older brother. he was honest and soft-spoken, but just as sincere as sirius, though in a subtler manner.

gentle is another good word. or lovely.

one could argue they've both been acting odd lately. regulus had the muddled, far away eyes, but sirius was aggressive in their shared proximity. isn't it expected for siblings to fight and bicker? you and rabastan rib all the time, like it's embedded into your very marrow. you've never grown cold toward him, and you feel this way won't change much, if ever, but there might be a deeper part of you, one that can feel you're much more similar than you originally gave it credit for. perhaps it's the same with them, too.

this discovery makes you itch. it can't be that simple. of course it couldn't be. is this who he is, truly? you almost hope he will suddenly apologize and maybe hug you a bit tighter, or, or make things better somehow, say he's just teasing, tell you you're the dearest most wonderful friend a boy could ask for.

his face crumples like a wet sheet of paper, "answer me. please?"

"you know i'm fond of you both."

"more than him?"

"both."

"so he's your favourite," his voice shakes.

the look on his face…a mixture of embarrassment and genuine hurt. your's must match.

"please don't say that, i don't have favourites."

"you just put up with me?"

"sirius,"

"stop being so vague."

"you're being mean."

he huffs, "fine. whatever, see if i care what you think."

"sirius?"

"don't bother. just leave."

"what?"

his eyes are strangely wet. you reach out to touch his cheek, in the hopes it'll soften him, but he jerks back, like you had attempted to strike him. the two of you gaze at each other wide-eyed and mortified. his eyes keep tearing, but the rest of him is perfectly still and calm. you decide it's probably best to not call attention to his tears, "what should i say then?"

his face hardens, "don't say anything."

"but--"

"go," he mutters, not even sparing you a glance, "just. stop bothering me."

his eyes brim again, and the sight makes your own become glossy. how humiliating. something coils in your stomach, uncomfortable and inescapable. how should you act? but he doesn't know either. all you have are bits and pieces of lessons and rules, none of which apply to this situation, not in a satisfactory way.

he doesn't move. neither do you. his heart beats and you can feel it, too, on your side of the bed. the clock ticks.

time stretches on.

it's a strange feeling, because it's not a foreign one, and you wish it was. the dull sense of loss makes you feel weak and empty, like you've skipped dinner.

carefully, you inch closer, until the tips of your fingers graze his. you clasp them, awkwardly. it's a childish way of keeping the two of you together. your insides hurt. you wonder if his do, too. he feels warm to the touch, solid and real. both of your palms are clammy.

you manage, breathlessly, "i don't want to fight with you."

his jaw remains tense, "no, you want to have my stupid brother's back,"

"please?"

"fine."

your stare at your joined hands.

"i'll leave," you promise quietly.

"good."

a cold silence creeps in after those words. you let go of his hands and step off his bedside, a great, wistful longing coiling in your gut. you gaze, again, hopefully, only for him to sneer. a terrible look, it doesn't belong there, and it doesn't suit him in the slightest. your head drops, you nod once, and step outside his door and out onto the staircase. the air’s tinted with something burnt and foul.

it's dark and quiet and you feel strangely hollow. the stairs twist beneath your feet. you trudge along, mindlessly, hand gliding down the railing you'd perched on with sirius on sunday. what a distance. it feels like an ocean has swelled, swallowing the shoreline. a curious heat rises up from your neck, itching, prickling, spreading all over.

light dances in the parlour room. the hearth cracks and pops strangely. a swish of a heavy robe, a crinkle of parchment, a sniff.

bellatrix.

she's returned. her silhouette stands imposing by the flickering flames. you're not sure why you came here, only that you did.

she notices you lingering there, head propped against the frame, staring. your hair, mused from earlier, likely gives it away, or, the puffiness in your eyes. her wet footsteps line the polished floor. the lull of rain is oddly soothing.

she tilts her head to the side, examining you, "it's awfully late."

you nod. your chin feels sticky. you wipe at it with the back of your hand, the pads of your fingers swiping your cheek and brushing beneath your nose. she holds out her palm and beckons. something in your stomach unravels, just a little. the carpet is rough, and her hand is heavy on your shoulder.

"shouldn't be wandering around at this hour, my dove," her voice is gentle, the light of the fire lapping across her. her eyes shine strangely, blacker, a dark, curious depth. a flash of green pierces through her iris and disappears. she smells like the night, fresh, and something sweetly charred, like a bonfire or campfire, or, smoke, "a proper little lady sleeps early."

a lump in your throat keeps you from replying. you gaze into the fire. the remains of letters and postcards crumple to black ash. a bright, smiling face on the cover of the magazine shrivels up, blackening at the edges and curling, melting in the cinders. andromeda's gifts.

this is why you never want to know anything.

64 notes · View notes

star2fishmeg · 1 year

Text

ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀʏ

Pairing: Miyauchi ‘Binzo’ Kozo x afab!reader

Summary: y/n’s day just kept getting worse and worse and Binzo had just what she needed to make it better

Warnings: ooc Binzo, fluff, comfort, swearing, short n' sweet

Authors note: this one’s dedicated @straysugzhpe who is such an incredible person and writer!! This is my first time writing Binzo by the way, have mercy. F/n = friend’s name

Authors note II: my banners and fics look better on dark mode btw, light mode users are your eyes okay?

Request: none!

With the sun finding slumber over the horizon, what was supposed to be just a normal day at school turned for the worst. The heavens opened in the morning, completely ruining the hairstyle she spent ages on perfecting (no occasion, but she just wanted to feel pretty), she failed a test and while it wasn’t that much of a deal, it was just something you’d rather not add to the already defeated feeling; then over lunch, someone spilt juice over her uniform, leaving it sticky and gross and to finish off her day a couple of girls had stolen her shoes and when she had found them, they were covered in mud. Her day went so horrifically that she hadn’t even waited for her friend and just left.

Crushing the juice box between her fingers, y/n dropped it lazily on the bench beside her, staring back at the view over the city from the hill she found herself. The city itself had started to awaken, restaurant lights flickering and apartment lights barely glowing in the tangerine hues that blanketed the world. Tears welled in the corner of her eyes, her breath becoming shallow and she tried to refrain. It failed though, her ducts gave out and the weight on her chest was relieved with hot tears silently streaming down her cheeks, quiet sobs heaving as she let the stress of her day rush out her body. Covering her face was pointless, no one was around anyway, in her eyes she was already a mess as it was. Dropping her head, she pulled her knees to her chest, curling up on the bench while watching the sunset with blurry vision and sore eyes.

“I, uh…hey y/n.” Kozo wasn’t one for being soft-spoken, but the way he was picking at his nails while approaching the bench to sit next to her in small steps gave enough indication that he was trying his best. He sat at a reasonable distance, not to frighten her, eyes flickering between the view and her figure.

Y/n sniffed, languidly turned her head to give him a glance, pushing hair out her eyes and wiping her eyes swiftly, “Did f/n tell you?” she sniffed. His eyebrows raised at her croaky voice, she really sounded rough. His heart tightened, he’d never seen someone with so much resemblance to sunshine appear completely dejected and rained on. Binzo only nodded, looking back at his hands as she sighed, “I feel awful, I just left them without a word.”

“They understand, don’t worry.” He paused, “You gonna tell me what happened or do you wanna hug or something?” His mind was screaming at him, he could’ve said something better than that and he could’ve offered a hug when he wasn’t covered in dirt and drywall. Drywall. Where did the drywall come from? He kept fidgeting, his fingers becoming more interesting than anything else at that moment. Leaning back, he draped his arms over the back of the bench, awkwardly opening his mouth but no words came out. What would Mercy do, huh? He had asked him about this type of thing recently but now it was reality, he’d gone completely dumb as if y/n was some random woman. The cogs in his brain rusted and trying to think, he’d known her for years why was his leg trembling and why did he suddenly care about his appearance, why was his stomach doing flips?

Y/n scooted closer to him, resting her head on his chest, facing the dusk, “Did my hair all pretty only for it to get ruined, then failed some dumb test, had juice launched over me and some girls stole my fucking shoes and covered them in mud, so now my feet are cold, damp and disgusting and then I just ran off without f/n so I feel guilty about that and I know it’s not that deep but I can’t help it.”

Binzo wrapped his arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer while she cuddled into him, tears brimming and being soaked up by his jacket. He didn’t say anything, but the thundering in his chest spoke volumes for him. He just gently caressed her hair, twirling stands on his finger and combing it until she had no tears left to cry.

“For what it’s worth, y/n, I still think you’re pretty,” he said softly and glanced down, y/n lifting her head to meet his gaze, “Even if your hair was ruined, clothes soaked and shoes muddy, you’re still very beautiful.”

She smiled, the corners of her eyes creasing, a genuine smile. Kozo responded with a smile of his own, not a manic one like before fights, one that only existed in the comforts of his room and inner circle where it was followed by a small chuckle rather than a growl. Overall, she thought it was nice hearing him talk rather than yelling, the zombie everyone else knew didn’t exist around her, not that she was bothered by that side.

“I think you’re pretty too,” her fingers ran down the denim on his jacket, leaving a streak in the dust that coated it, “Even when you’re covered in...drywall?”

He shook his head in defeat, smile never fading, “Shit happens.”

H&L harem (if you wanna be tagged/removed in future H&L content, comment or lemme know via ‘chat to me bbygorl’ :D);

@straysugzhpe @airbendertendou @strxwberrychocolate @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @rinwhore @simpforchuchu @thatpoindexterpixy @rainisawriter @cheshirecatuniverse

[Masterlist]

[Requests OPEN]

#binzo x reader #miyauchi kozo #high&low #high&low x reader #high&low the worst #high and low #highandlow #high & low #high&low the worst x reader #high&low the worst x cross #high&low the worst cross x reader #suzuran x reader #high&low binzo

99 notes · View notes

8bitsupervillain · 4 days

Text

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 7 Minagoroshi pt. Final

“Read the entire series over again.” I wonder how many people actually did that between chapters as they were coming out?

So, since there was that one spoiler I saw from the manga version of events, and this is otherworldly voice is in fact Frederica Bernkastel I guess that does a serious number on the theory that Rika and Bernkastel are the same character. Or so it would seem to me, there’s still all of Matsuribayashi to go through to confirm or kill that particular theory. I admit that I may be operating from a faulty premise. After all, the manga came out how long after the visual novels?

This is kind of an unrelated thought, but I don’t know if I ever shared aloud the way I thought you were meant to read Umineko. Before I started that series I had the thought in my head that you were meant to read the first chapter, then jump to the first chapter of the Answer Arcs. And then proceed that way through the rest of the series, 2 then 6, and so on. Now I know this is a very silly way to think the series was meant to be done, and I admit that this particular line of reasoning didn’t live past its formation for very long. But at the time I thought that’s how it was meant to be read. I am curious though to wonder how long he had originally wanted the mystery to hang until this one came out. Ha, could you imagine if he did that? Release the first game in a series and then not release the second part for four years, despite it apparently being done a while ago?

Where's literally any information on Silent Hill F Konami?

It’s the journey not the destination. He said sarcastically. Also this reminds me of something I had read somewhere along the way that Ryukishi07 was saddened by the less than positive reception that Tsumihoroboshi received. I kind of wonder how different angry Japanese gamers are in comparison to American ones, same shit, different language?

Yeah, you didn’t exactly paint them in the most flattering light there Ryukishi. I don’t know where I read it, but I do recall reading somewhere along the line that at one point he had considered releasing this as just one singular story. Which makes me wonder what that would’ve been like. Would people have been willing to sit through the entire hundred plus hour long storyline for the entire length of it? Or was splitting it up the smarter option? For whatever my opinion’s worth on the matter of this visual novel series that was written twenty years ago, I think splitting it up was the better option. Although a part of me does wonder what the story would’ve been like as one continuous narrative. Just going from one chapter to the next, how would that have played out?

I’ve mentioned it elsewhere but there was an entirely new Higurashi storyline released about four months after Matsuribayashi. Higurashi Hou Rei. I’m given to understand that one’s not exactly the best around. Then again from what little I’ve heard, apparently chapter eight didn’t exactly delight the fan base either.

Just for funsies, around the time I was writing this part I looked at some of the later events of Minagoroshi in the manga version.

I didn’t read the whole thing, but here are some pages of Hanyuu that I thought were interesting. Primarily because I thought it was a nice change of pace seeing her with facial expressions that aren’t just sad creature.

I thought it was interesting how the manga just spells it out plainly that Ooishi had found out that Takano was alive. Whereas the visual novel kept Rika in the dark about what Ooishi had found out in Gifu. It hinted at her fate, but it never just said point blank “yeah she’s alive” like it does here in the manga.

I don’t wish to drag this out for much longer (I have over fifty screencaps from the manga saved in a folder on my desktop), but there are a couple of ones I think are worth sharing.

Kumagai still gets taken out by the Mountain Dogs sniper, but I thought this was an interesting variation, however slight, of Ooishi’s death scene.

I didn’t know this little mini-comic existed, but I’m delighted it does.

It’s canon.

Also canon.

I hope I don’t seem too hyperbolic in my praise of Minagoroshi. But this is genuinely the best written, and so far the absolute best chapter of this entire series so far. Even though I mentioned that I found the section regarding Satoko’s life with her uncle to be an absolute slog to go through. With a mention that the segments regarding this pretty firmly slammed on the brakes grinding the story to a halt I’m willing to tolerate that because the sheer strength of writing for the rest of the chapter more than makes up for it. Much as I disliked that entire section I don’t know what I would cut from it to make it a more palatable read, because despite my complaining it is rather vital to the overall narrative.

I enjoyed this chapter a lot more than I did any of the others because this chapter more than the rest started giving me what I want from the narrative. It started explaining some of the more mystical elements of the overarching plot. Much as it started doubling down on the parasites explanation it started doing so in a way that is better than just a handwave of “alien magic.” The explanation of Oyashiro, Rika in the timeloop (even though I have the theory it’s actually Hanyuu in the timeloop, and Rika’s just an unfortunate passenger to this fate), the very existence of Hanyuu herself. It handles it all extremely better than it did during the entirety of Tsumihoroboshi.

This chapter was a much-needed shot in the arm to improve the trajectory of the entire series. It’s all too easy to imagine a hypothetical scenario where it just continued its downward spiral, and just kept being worse than Tsumihoroboshi. But despite the odds it completely averted that, and came out much stronger for it. You could probably argue that my high opinion of the chapter is only because I went into it with such low expectations. I don’t think that’s the case however. I grant you that I didn’t go in to Minagoroshi with high hopes, but I don’t think I went in expecting it to be an actively miserable time.

In terms of it as a mystery I don’t know if it’s an exceptionally good one. Despite my enjoyment of mystery novels, games, and so on, I don’t feel that I have a good handle on what makes one good or not. Maybe it would’ve been a better mystery if it didn’t immediately cut to Takano injecting Tomitake with H173 and setting up all the stuff for Operation Doomsday. If we just stuck with Rika up until the reveal about Ooishi’s investigation in Gifu, or hell even later with Keiichi’s death.

As it is, however I think that Minagoroshi is far and away the absolute strongest of all of the chapters so far in the Answer Arcs. Possibly even the series as a whole. There was such a wide variety of interesting things happening that except for the plotline about Satoko it kept the story moving at a very brisk pace. I’m very excited to see if the final chapter* Matsuribayashi can keep the streak going.

I love these silly comics.

#higurashi #higurashi when they cry #higurashi no naku koro ni #higurashi playthrough

7 notes · View notes

mafuluzx · 1 year

Note

Hiii I can't be believe you're here! :D

So I was thinking if you could do a oneshot for Cole x male!reader in which the reader can like play a musical instrument(preferably the piano or the flute, or maybe both) and Cole just finds out and admires him in secret but then the reader finds out and he is embarrassed. I leave the rest to your imagination :)

AALLRRIIGGHHHHHHT!!! COMING RIGHT UP!!! I took the liberty to put in a little twist, for Cole is now a ghost, just to make things a bit more interesting.

Cole x male reader oneshot!

Takes place before the Day of the departed.

Practicing and listening

Cole let out a long sigh. Ever since he became a ghost, sleep had became less important to him. Ghosts didn't necessarily need sleep, they didn't need to eat either, and they definitely didn't have to shower... not like they even could.

Cole of course understood that what he didn't need, the others still needed. That's why when Cole didn't go to sleep, he instead silently sat around, not doing much. He couldn't train, for that would wake the others up.

Well, he knew there were others also roaming the Bounty. Usually someone just had to use the bathroom, or to get a drink. But one day, Cole realized someone needed to get water from the kitchen at the exact same time every night, before disappearing for an hour, before returning with said water. And as I said, this happened, every, night. And Cole really doubted it took an hour to get a glass of water, not even Jay was that slow.

So this time, Cole wasn't in his room. He was in the kitchen. He was waiting for the mysterious someone to get some water. And as Cole suspected, the sound of footsteps approached the kitchen. Just as Cole thought someone would come in, a familiar figure passed the room entirely. The person stopped, and Cole turned himself invisible. (y/n) took a few steps back, and peeked into the kitchen.

(y/n) was one of Cole's team mates, the (f/c) ninja, and the (any element) ninja. (y/n) looked through the kitchen, but when he spotted nothing unusual, he shrugged to himself and left. Without a second thought, Cole followed after him. (y/n) walked at a slow pace, light on his feet so he wouldn't make a sound.

He was carrying a case of sorts, and Cole recognized that it could possibly be for an instrument of some sort. Cole had his father to thank for that little fact. The Bounty was 'parked' on top of a tall mountain, as usual. The Bounty couldn't just keep floating while everyone was asleep, so it was bast to stop somewhere to rest.

(y/n) looked over the Bounty's railing and scanned the mountain bellow them. Then, he climbed down Bounty's anchor and started walking down hill. Cole followed after hims silently, until at a small clearing a good distance away from the Bounty, (y/n) stopped. (y/n) once again looked around, and Cole quickly hid behind a large rock formation behind (y/n).

The (h/c) haired boy squat down and opened the case, and indeed, there was a flute inside. It seemed to be a model from the western parts of Ninjago, more commonly known as the western concert flute. (y/n) cleaned the instrument with a white cloth before blowing a few notes. He played a few scales up and down before standing up and fixing his posture.

The silence of the night was cut by the music played by (y/n). Cole watched from behind the rocks quietly, not even realizing the passing of time. An hour passed like that, and (y/n) headed back to the Bounty, and Cole sneaked after him.

The next morning, Cole didn't hear (y/n) mention about going outside even once. If this was (y/n)'s secret, Cole was sure to keep it that way... for many reasons. One: The music was more than music to Cole, he could feel (y/n) pour out his feeling to each and every note he blew. And two: ...He just didn't feel like telling the others.

The very next night, although it was a different mountain, Cole still sneaked after (y/n), as the boy climbed down the anchor and walked further away from the Bounty.

And so another night passed... and another... and another.... and a weeks worth more.

And now was another one of those nights. (y/n) played a song which Cole had heard before a few times. (y/n) had many songs he would play, but this was the one Cole had heard the most out of all of them. Cole was hiding behind the trunk of a tree as he listened to the music with a smile.

Did you know that ghosts can sneeze? If you didn't, now you do, just like Cole. Cole tensed up an placed a finger under his nose. He was about to sneeze, but then it went away. Cole sighed in relief as-

"Achoo!"

The playing stopped as (y/n) whipped around. Cole didn't have time to more than close his eyes when a powerful kick was sent at him, and right through his head. Now was one of those times Cole was glad he was a ghost, otherwise his precious skull might have been no more.

"...Cole?" (y/n) let out as he retracted his leg. (y/n) was still holding his flute in his other hand as Cole slowly reopened his eyes. (y/n) looked around, as if expecting someone else to be there, before turning back to Cole.

"Why are you here?" (y/n) continued with another question as Cole sweat dropped.

"I- uh... I was about to ask the same of you." Cole placed his hands on his hips as he spoke. (y/n) seemed to remember that he was still holding his flute, and panicked momentarily before stuffing it back into its case.

"Nothing at all. I just couldn't sleep." (y/n) stated in a calm manner as Cole cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Just like yesterday, and the day before that, and last week?" (y/n) froze up before he stared Cole down.

"And why were you spying on me, huh?" Cole just smirked at (y/n)'s remark.

"Because I like your playing. It sounds nice." (y/n) glared at Cole with a pink tint across his cheeks before scoffing.

"That is no reason, creep."

"Hey, that's not very nice!" Cole pretended to look angry, before noticing the rather... ashamed expression on (y/n)'s face.

"...How long have you been playing?" Cole asked.

"Since always." (y/n) answered.

"How come we didn't know?" Cole asked again as he tilted his head.

"Zane does, and he promised not to tell you guys." (y/n) sighed as Cole turned even more confused than he already was.

"Why?"

"It's embarrassing... I only got caught 'cause I've been playing more than usual is because I promised to play at a concert on the day of the departed."

"I see..." Cole didn't really understand, but he tried his best.

"I really do think you're great at it. Your playing is really good." Cole said as (y/n) reached out and blocked Cole's field of vision.

"D-don't say more! I can't handle compliments..." or so (y/n) said, but from between his fingers, Cole saw the other boy blushing and smiling like crazy. Cole's lips curled up before leaned in and he phased through (y/n)'s hands. (y/n) jumped, somehow still shocked Cole could do that.

"D-Don't do that!" (y/n) commanded before grabbing his flute case and walking back towards the Bounty. This time Cole wasn't sneaking behind (y/n), and instead walked alongside him before speaking up one last time.

"Am I allowed to come listen to-"

"No."

#ninjago x reader #cole brookstone #cole x reader #x male y/n #x male reader

54 notes · View notes

pedropascal-y · 1 year

Text

Look Away From Me - Joel Miller x Reader

joel miller x f!reader

MDNI, 18+, ageless/empty/under 18 blogs will be blocked.

word count: 1.9K

Warnings: Domestic abuse, mentions of domestic abuse, cussing, violence (typical TLOU stuff), age gap (26 to Joel's 56), ‘cheating’, please lmk if I missed any.

While there is no smut in the first couple of chapters, there will be eventually, and thus the 18+ requirement

Summary: In Jackson, WY, you are one of the teachers in the community. You are quite young which means Ellie takes a liking to you and she’s not the only one.

a/n: please share your thoughts! I’m not new to fanfiction writing but it HAS been a while. I am a massive Joel Miller girl. I will try my hardest to avoid ‘y/n’ but it may happen occasionally. You do have a nickname, Sunny, that your father gave you before he passed.

(i made the mdni & arrows picture, credit me if u use it.)

Index:

Chapter 1 - Fruits of Labor - 04/13/2023

Chapter 2 - X - Coming Soon

Wyoming summers are unbearably hot, at least this one was. I pulled my desk drawer open and set my planner and journal inside. He would never let me have something private, so I kept my journal locked in my work desk. “I haven’t patrolled something in a while and Jackson is so large,” Ellie said, drawing on a piece of loose paper. The other students have grouped off to chat while they finish up their assignments for the day.

“You’ve got this, Ellie, you’re stronger than the majority of the kids here.” I smiled at her, watching her try to hide her blush. Ellie preferred to sit next to my desk and talk to me, rather than the other kids. She was more grown than the others which broke my heart. At fourteen, she lived through more than some of the adults in the community. Besides, unspoken social rules went out the window the moment the world ended. Being friends with a fourteen-year-old was the least problematic thing I could do. Dina placed her paper on my desk and smiled at Ellie.

“Are you coming to the summer party this week, Sunny?” Dina asked me and looked back at her friends.

“When have I ever missed it, Dina?” I smiled at her, grabbing the paper from the corner of my desk and sliding it into the basket, “Ellie, you and Joel should come! The community hasn’t seen much of you two.”

She dropped her pencil and brushed her loose hair from her face. “I’ll see if I can get the old man to get out of the house.” Ellie grabbed my calendar and looked for the party. Since I’ve no clue what day it is exactly or what month for that matter, I’ve made a calendar specifically used for keeping track of schooling for the kids. The community picked up on using it because their kids spread it around.

The classroom fell silent as I stood from my chair and dismissed them for the day. I tightened the braid in my hair and grabbed my apron from the shelf beside me. The sun was shining brightly, the heat was radiating and everyone was wearing as few clothes as possible. The farm was a decent walk from the building they designated as my schoolhouse. I wasn’t one to complain, I loved being in nature. Whenever people were needed for runs, I volunteered to go. There was nothing like a Wyoming forest, the scenery of the hills and mountains was breathtaking, even the thirtieth time around.

“Hey there, Sunny,” Judith waved to me before bending back down to tend the carrots. I waved back quickly before pulling my apron on. My dress was a pale yellow with small daisies on it. I wasn’t worried about dirt getting on it but if I could minimize the amount of dirt, I was going to. Ellie made eye contact with me as I picked up the small basket for weeds I pulled. She waved and continued walking with Hayden, the teenager who was also assigned to patrol duty. He was interested in her and it was obvious to everyone who ever looked their way. Ellie? Ellie is a, and I am quoting her here, “hardcore lesbian.” I kneeled down in the dirt and started tugging away the weeds around the strawberry bushes. I sank my hands under the freshly turned dirt and took a deep breath. The sun shone on my face and warmed me both inside and out. Ellie stood at the gate of the patch and watched me. “Sunny?” She called out.

“Yes?” I answered.

“Why haven’t you gone home yet?”

“I like being in nature and they don’t care that I help them out.” I shrugged, gently pouring some water onto the leaves of the strawberry bush. Ellie waved Hayden off and opened the gate. She knelt down beside me and pulled a strawberry from the bush. “At least help me pull weeds if you’re going to steal produce, Ells.” I laughed and nudged her. She laughed and tugged on a small weed near the bush she stole from.

Ellie and I stood up from the ground and high-fived each other for our work. “Ellie?” Someone called out for her. We turned around and I locked eyes with Joel.

“Hey, old man!” She yelled to him. Ellie watched as Joel locked eyes with me, “This is Sunny, my teacher and part-time gardener.”

“Sunny isn’t actually my name, my dad gave me that nickname.” I smiled and brushed the dirt from my apron and dress.

“It’s a good nickname,” Joel said, his eyes still locked on me.

“Ew, stop staring, Joel!” Ellie exclaimed and left the gated farm patch.

“I wasn’t staring, let’s go get dinner.” He groaned and waved goodbye.

They continued to bicker with one another as they walked toward the canteen. Judith had left the farm not too long ago leaving me alone to put the supplies away. I tuck the emptied basket into the shelf I retrieved it from and pull my apron off. The walk to my house was quiet, the majority of the population was headed to the canteen or eating in their own homes.

“Ace?” I called out as I opened the door. Snickersnee rubbed his face on my leg, meowing softly as I shut the door. “Is your daddy not home yet?” I asked my cat. He chirped at me in response. I pressed a soft kiss to Snickersnee’s head. He was probably still working. The house was quiet and still, not even Snic made a sound. It felt uncomfortable to have a quiet home, as a child before the outbreak my house was never quiet. It was always filled with life and music. My dad made sure of it.

I climbed the stairs and flicked the bathroom light on. I had some dirt smeared onto my face and my hair was half in a braid and the other half a mess. My face was red and sweaty from working so hard. I pulled the towel off the wall and put some of it in cold water. My dress was clean for the most part which was a win on my part. I wiped my face down and relished in the cool fabric cleansing my face. Snickersnee was sat on top of the toilet seat, quietly watching me. I tossed the towel into the hamper and let my hair out. My brush ran through my hair smoothly until I reached the ends of it. Snic hopped onto the counter and rubbed against me. He pressed his forehead to mine and began purring. I pulled my hair into a half-up half-down hairstyle and left for the canteen.

“Sunny! Come sit with us!” Ellie yelled to me as I entered the building. I nodded and headed to the food line. Today’s menu was chicken parmesan, we had more than enough chickens to spare. I piled my plate on and grabbed water before making my way to the table Ellie and Joel were seated at. “Your hair looks good,” Ellie said as I sat down across from her. Joel was on my left, quietly finishing his dinner. “Joel,” She nudged him, and he grunted, “Tell her she looks pretty.”

He looked at me for the first time since I entered the building and I smiled at him. Joel took a moment and nodded, “Pretty.” Ellie rolled her eyes and mouthed an apology. It made me laugh. Although they weren’t blood-related, those two were family. Father and daughter without a single doubt in my mind. The canteen was loud and busy, a signal that today was a good day of work for everyone. Tommy and Maria loved when the canteen was full and lively. It reminded them of all the work that goes into the place. Maria and Tommy walked in with their daughter, Zarah. An infant, she was born two weeks ago and they were on top of the world. The older women surrounded them immediately, desperate to hold the baby. It made me smile, and the community was so willing to help new parents. Bittersweet is how I would describe it. I always wanted children but not with my husband. I don’t want to bring children into our relationship. Ace has been pushing the narrative that he and I have been trying for a baby but we use every precaution possible and we haven't had sex in the past 4 weeks. For that, I am thankful if not concerned. Why would my husband not want to have sex with me? I guess the only time he wants his hands on me is when he’s beating me.

“Alright, well, I’m all done,” I cleared my throat and looked at Ellie, “Wanna help me do dishes for the kitchen crew?”

“Hell yeah.” She exclaimed. I wouldn’t have expected her to be excited about cleaning dishes but she and I were close and loved spending time together. I took Joel’s empty plate from him and placed a hand on his shoulder before heading to the kitchen.

“Joel,” Ellie nudged me, “Tell her she’s pretty.”

I rolled my eyes before looking up at Sunny. Her hair was nicer than when she was knees in the dirt and she was freshened up. Clean. She was gorgeous. I cleared my throat and muttered, “Pretty.” Such a weak word to describe how she looked. Ellie knew it and mouthed an apology she thought I didn’t see. I kept shoveling my food into my mouth. My back had been killing me all day and I was starving. Tommy made me miss breakfast today because he needed a crew to help lug the bodies of raiders to the river's edge.

“Alright, well, I’m all done. Wanna help me do the dishes for the kitchen crew?” She asked Ellie. Ellie agreed quickly and snatched her plate up. Sunny grabbed my plate, placed a hand on my shoulder, and tapped before heading to the sink to wash dishes. Tommy sat down in Sunny’s seat with Zarah. Maria was grabbing herself some food. “She’s married, Joel.” He spoke first, wiggling his finger for Zarah. He had named her after Sarah, he had brought the idea to me a day or two before Maria gave birth. Ellie helped me come to agree with it, my niece is beautiful, with the deepest brown eyes and chubbiest cheeks.

“Who?”

“Sunny.”

“Ah.”

“I see the way you look at her.”

“Got no clue what you’re talking about, Tom.”

“Oh fuck off. You’re my brother.”

“Watch your language.”

“She’s not even a month old. I can say what I want.”

My eyes drifted toward Ellie and her doing dishes. Sunny reached for an extra sponge from the shelf and her dress lifted up. Purple. Her upper thigh had a purple bruise on it and rage bubbled. Tommy was too distracted trying to get Zarah to laugh to notice my fist turning white. The idea of someone laying hands on a woman enraged me already but one as kind and beautiful as her? I wanted nothing more than to murder that son of a bitch she called her husband. “Who’s her husband?” I asked, trying my hardest to restrain the anger in my voice.

“Ace Hutchinson,” Tommy said.

“The doctor?” I asked him, looking away from Ellie and her.

“Yeah, so stay away from her.”

“I wasn’t the one who invited her to sit with me, that was Ellie.”

“Ok, whatever you say.”

I watched as Tommy went and sat at the table with his wife, leaving me alone. Ellie splashed Sunny and laughed loudly. It was nice seeing Ellie enjoy herself and break out of her shell. I was glad someone got to see what I get to see every day of my life.

90 notes · View notes