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unpredictable-probabilities · 2 months ago

Text

Where It Goes

Summary:

When a train breaks down during a snowstorm, the passengers are forced to spend the night at a hotel.

Two strangers share their Christmas plans and find themselves enjoying the company much more than they expected.

Rating: Explicit

Notes (more at the end):

For Sandman Connect 4 | @sandman-connect4

Prompts: Train + Breakdown + Feast + Explore

I'd been wanting to write a one-shot inspired by this fic written by @softest-punk, and this combination of prompts finally gave me the window for it~

Word Count: 5,130

[Read on AO3]

———

Snow is falling softly on a Friday evening in December, and the streets are alive with brilliant lights and Christmas carols.

Morpheus sees all this with distant interest as he glances up from his book, making sure it isn’t his station yet when the train begins to slow to a stop.

Some people on either side of him get up to exit, and Morpheus goes back to reading. In his periphery, he notices that a couple and their child have just gotten aboard, and he moves to his left to make space for them on the bench.

The train begins to move again. Morpheus is in the middle of figuring out the clues that the detective has discovered in the novel when he feels something bump against his shoulder.

He looks to his left and sees that the man sitting beside him has fallen asleep, his arms wrapped securely around a backpack on his lap.

Morpheus purses his lips. His first instinct is to avoid the touch, uncomfortable with physical contact even from friends and family. However, he understands how tiring public commute can be, especially with the Christmas Eve rush. So he takes a breath and lets it be, managing to get back to the story.

Two stations later, the train lurches to an abrupt halt, making most of the passengers give a shout of surprise.

The man on Morpheus’ shoulder tips forward, and Morpheus instinctively holds out his hand to the man’s backpack to steady him. The man startles awake and sits up, blinking owlishly as the train makes a screeching sound, grinding to a halt halfway into the station.

“Sorry, mate,” the man slightly shakes his head and stifles a yawn behind his hand. “Didn't mean to fall asleep. Uh, what's happening?” He straightens the front of his brown jacket.

Morpheus furrows his eyebrows as he looks around at the other confused passengers. “I believe the train has broken down.”

No sooner has he said the words when the sound of the tannoy comes on and they hear the voice of the conductor informing them that there seems to be a problem with the engine, and everyone has to disembark the train now while they make repairs.

The passengers murmur and grumble their complaints, but there's nothing else to be done about it. The doors open and people begin filing out.

Morpheus sighs and closes his book. He should have known that going home to attend his parents’ Christmas dinner would bring only misfortune.

—

Hob adjusts the straps of his backpack on his shoulders as he goes with the crowd to enter the nearest hotel from the train station.

Snow is falling heavily now, and most of the main roads are closed. Some passengers had started complaining to the conductor and security guards and whoever else in uniform they could find, and so a compromise was reached that they would all be booked to stay the night in a nearby hotel, paid for by the train company as compensation for causing such a hassle on Christmas Eve, in exchange for the passengers not suing them or filing a mountain of complaints.

Hob isn't feeling particularly angry; he's sad to miss his parents’ Christmas dinner, but he's seen enough snowy Christmases to know that he can still most likely make it in time for Christmas Day brunch at their house.

Waking up to the bluest eyes he's ever seen also helped a lot with his mood. He scans the hotel lobby now for the man, but it's difficult with the crowd of people. Hob wonders briefly if the man didn't go to the hotel with them, but it seems unlikely considering how there's hardly any cabs driving in this weather.

A hotel staff approaches them and says that unfortunately due to the amount of people coming in all at once, they would have to share rooms for the night. There's more grumbling and scoffing, and the hotel staff says that a simple meal would be prepared for them soon, and they can wait in the lobby while the food and their rooms are being arranged.

People slowly settle down into seats, and Hob looks around to find himself a vacant flat surface to sit on.

His eyes land on a man seated on the third step of the stairs leading to the second floor. The buttons of the man’s black peacoat are undone, giving him a somewhat relaxed air as his gaze focuses on the book in his lap, his slender legs stretched gracefully on the lower steps.

Hob feels himself smile and makes his way towards the man. He unslings his backpack from his shoulders and gets something from the outer pocket.

“While we wait for dinner,” Hob holds out the unopened buttered croissant in clear packaging.

The man glances at him, then at the food in his hand. “Thank you, but it is not necessary. I am not hungry.”

Hob nods and returns the croissant in his bag. “Alright, well, the offer stands if you ever change your mind. Is it alright if I sit?” he points to the stairs. “Everywhere else is full.”

The man glances at the crowded lobby and nods. “Of course.” He turns a page in his book and returns to reading.

Hob sits on the same step as the man, on the farthest side against the wall. Fortunately, the staircase is wide enough that there's still plenty of space between them for people to walk through if they wanted to use the stairs.

Hob places his backpack on the step below him and takes out his phone to message his parents. He informs them of the situation and reassures them that he'll be home for Christmas brunch.

They talk for a while in the family group chat, and Hob is glad to know that the snowfall isn't too heavy at his parents’ place.

He looks up when he sees some people walking around, and he realises that they're starting to set up tables and distribute food.

Hob glances over to the man beside him, and he still looks the same as when Hob first approached; quietly reading his book with a very subtle frown of concentration, partly leaning against the railing.

Hob considers informing him that dinner is almost ready, but he gets a better idea.

He stands up and slings his backpack on his shoulders, and heads over to help with setting up.

A few minutes later, Hob comes back to the man with a plate of food. “Here you go,” he holds it out.

The man glances up and looks at the plate: grapes, cheese, two slices of white bread, and ham.

“Wasn't sure what you'd like so I brought the safest options,” Hob says sheepishly.

The man tilts his head a fraction to the side. “Why did you bring anything at all?”

Hob shrugs and sits down against the wall again, setting his backpack down. “To thank you for catching me earlier? Would have fallen on my face if you hadn't.”

“It was simply common decency,” the man said indifferently.

“So is this,” Hob holds out the plate again.

The man gives a small smile. “Thank you.” He takes the plate, but then a notification sound from his pocket takes his attention. He sets the plate down beside him and takes out his phone, frowning when he reads the screen.

“Something troubling you?” Hob picks up a grape from his own plate. “If you don't mind me asking.”

“I was supposed to go to my parents’ house tonight for Christmas dinner. I informed them earlier of the situation, and the passive-aggressive messages have begun,” he says drily.

“Maybe they're just worried about you?” Hob offers.

“They're worried about their image,” the man corrects him. “For reasons I am yet to understand, they want all their friends to see on social media that we spend Christmas together annually. Perhaps they think it would somehow draw in more business for their country club.”

“Oh.” Hob falls quiet. It’s a bit surreal to hear, especially since it’s a stark contrast to how Hob feels about celebrating Christmas with his family.

There’s another notification sound, but this time the man smiles at his phone. “My older sister told me to be safe, and my younger sibling called me a ‘lucky bastard’ for not being there right now.”

“I’m guessing none of you actually enjoy those dinners?” Hob smiles despite the unhappy sentiment, just glad to see that the man’s mood seems to have improved.

“Indeed,” the man sighs and returns his phone to his pocket. “Ah, where are my manners. I am Morpheus.” He holds out a hand.

Hob grins. “Hob,” he shakes Morpheus’ hand. “Hopefully you have a better Christmas Eve now than last year. No posh parents to tolerate here. Unless you wanna approach any of them in the lobby,” he nods in the direction of it.

Morpheus chuckles. “How about you, then? Where were you headed?”

“Same as you, Christmas dinner with family. We do it yearly, too. No complaints so far, apart from when I extremely messed up that batch of cookies two years back.”

Morpheus raises his eyebrows in curiosity. “How does one ‘extremely mess up’ cookies?”

“When one misreads ½ cup of baking soda as 2 ½ cups. Tasted like chemicals, I nearly choked on it,” Hob scrunches up his face at the memory.

“Where did the 2 come from?” Morpheus asks in amusement.

“It was the second item on the ingredients list. I thought ‘2’ was part of the measurement, since it was right beside the ‘½’,” Hob explains, gesturing with his hands.

Morpheus glances at his plate like it might be poisoned. “You didn’t cook any of these, did you?”

“Oi!” Hob says indignantly. “That was one time! I’ve made excellent cookies since then.”

Morpheus laughs, a real one that brightens up his entire face and makes Hob feel pleasantly warm on the inside.

“Well,” Morpheus says as he calms down. “I’m sorry that your Christmas Eve is turning out to be bleaker than last year’s. It sounds like you actually enjoy spending it with your family,”

“Oh I do, but last year was… different.” A ridiculous understatement, but Hob isn’t sure how much would be socially acceptable to tell someone he just met.

Morpheus looks at him curiously. “I’m guessing it was worse than inedible cookies?”

Hob chuckles awkwardly and glances down at his plate. “Yeah, uh… my girlfriend at the time broke up with me.”

“On Christmas Eve?” Morpheus says in surprise.

“She felt like she had to, I think,” Hob shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I proposed. Thought it would be a grand romantic gesture. And it was, which was the problem. She said things were going too fast, I was too much, stuff like that.” He focused on getting a piece of lasagna from his plate, taking a bite of it and chewing slowly to make himself stop rambling.

“I see,” Morpheus said without pity or judgement in his voice, which Hob is grateful for. “I apologise for having brought up such a personal matter.”

“Nah it’s alright. It hurt an awful lot at the time, but I’ve made peace with it now,” Hob says sincerely. “It took a long while and a great deal of support from my friends and family, but eventually I was able to move on from it. We wanted different things, that’s all.”

Morpheus nods and uses his fork to put some ham and cheese on the piece of bread and puts the other slice on it to make a sandwich. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re too much,” he gestures with the sandwich towards Hob before taking a bite of it.

Hob chuckles and tugs at his earlobe, feeling his face warm. “Thanks, mate. Uh, you can go back to reading now,” he gestures to the book still open on Morpheus’ lap. “I just wanted to make sure you got some food before they ran out.”

Morpheus raises an eyebrow. “You don’t wish to speak with me anymore?”

“No, I do!” Hob says hurriedly. “It’s just that, my sister’s a bookworm and I know she hates it when people interrupt her reading.”

Morpheus smiles. “I see. And what does it mean when she willingly puts a book away in order to spend time with someone?”

“Oh, that’s a huge honour,” Hob says fondly. “It means she’s really interested…” he trails off when Morpheus closes his book and puts it in his small messenger bag. “You’re…?”

“Interested? Yes.”

“In me?” Hob says without thinking and almost takes it back.

“Are you opposed?”

“No,” Hob replies probably too quickly.

Morpheus’ eyes are twinkling with fond amusement, and Hob thinks the flush on his face might be glaringly obvious.

He is saved from saying anything embarrassing by the announcement of the hotel staff that the rooms are ready, and that they can queue up to get assigned with roommates.

Hob and Morpheus finish their remaining food and get up to stand in line. Morpheus hangs back a little when they reach the queue and gestures for Hob to be in front of him.

The now familiar notification sound catches Hob’s attention and he turns in time to see Morpheus looking at his phone screen with a sour expression.

“More passive-aggressive texts?” Hob asks sympathetically.

“Yes. I'm muting them now. I shall just claim that the snow had caused disruptions in signals.” Morpheus pockets his phone again, but there’s still a crease on his forehead.

“Are you alright?” Hob asks.

Morpheus lets out a breath. “They keep asking how my girlfriend is and whether I'm bringing her there tomorrow.”

Hob’s heart drops to his stomach. Morpheus has a girlfriend? But then why—

“I have not told them we had ended our relationship more than eight months ago.”

“Oh,” Hob feels guilty about how relieved he feels. “I'm… sorry to hear that.”

Morpheus shakes his head lightly. “It was for the best. She works in Greece, and our relationship could not survive the distance. But as you say, I’ve made peace with it. I just haven’t told my parents about the breakup because I know they’re planning to set me up with an heir to some company or other. I don’t know, I don’t really keep track of their business deals.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not having dinner with them,” Hob says to lighten the mood as they move up the line. “You can enjoy Christmas Eve for once.”

Morpheus smiles. “Indeed.”

They reach the front of the line and the woman at the desk asks Hob if he already has someone to share a room with or if they need to assign him one.

Hob realises he hasn't thought about it, and turns to Morpheus. “Do you wanna share a room?”

Morpheus nods. “Yes.” He looks at the woman. “How many would we be in one room?”

“Given the limited capacity of the hotel this evening, four people would share a double room, that's our room with two beds,” the woman adjusts her glasses. “And two people would be assigned to each single room with one bed. Extra mattresses and blankets will be provided upon request.”

Hob exchanges glances with Morpheus. He wouldn't mind sharing a room with more people, but it might be more comfortable if it's just the two of them, given that they know each other more than anyone else here. Safer too, since they already trust each other to some degree.

Yeah, keep making those excuses, Gadling, a part of Hob’s brain tells him.

“It's your turn in the queue,” Morpheus says. “You make the choice.”

“It'll be your room too,” Hob points out.

Morpheus looks away for a moment. “I am not prone to socialising.”

“Single room it is, then,” Hob tries not to sound too happy about it and nods to the woman to confirm.

She types something on her computer and gives them their key cards. “That’s on the second floor, down the hall to your right. Have a good evening,” she says with a friendly smile.

“Thank you,” Hob takes the cards and looks at her nametag. “Lucienne,” he returns the smile.

Hob hands Morpheus a key card and they head to the stairs.

“You can now resume your sleep from the train,” Morpheus says playfully as they walk side by side.

Hob smiles. “I guess, but I'm not really sleepy anymore. I think I'd walk around and explore the place for a bit, and ask for that extra mattress. You take the bed.”

Morpheus shakes his head. “I do not mind the mattress. You can have the bed.”

“We'll coin flip for it later,” Hob says when they reach their room.

Morpheus looks around and walks towards a small shelf with drinks and snacks. “All these and not a singular water bottle,” he frowns disapprovingly.

“Oh I have one, haven't opened it yet.” Hob unslings his backpack and places it down on a chair.

He opens the zipper and a small wrapped present nearly tumbles out, but he catches it in time. He takes the bottle of water he bought at a convenience store earlier and puts the present back in the bag before zipping it shut again.

“Here you go,” Hob holds out the bottle as Morpheus walks over to him. “And that buttered croissant still has your name on it if you want it,” he pats the pocket where it still sits.

“Your bag is full of presents,” Morpheus says curiously as he accepts the bottle.

“Ah, yeah,” Hob chuckles. “For my parents and siblings. Stayed up late last night wrapping them, that's why I was dozing off on the train.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Morpheus smiles and opens the water bottle to take a sip.

“They'd have some for me too, we like giving each other presents. Nothing fancy, just small trinkets and things that we think would make each other happy.”

Morpheus' smile turns wistful. “Your family sounds lovely.”

“And your siblings would want you to have a lovely evening. How about it, then? Stroll around a bit before we argue who takes the bed?”

“There shall be no arguments. We will take the stroll and you will be too tired afterwards and fall asleep on the bed,” Morpheus declares lightly.

“You're not gonna outlast me that easily, I've spent many nights telling my nieces and nephews bedtime stories. And they do not fall asleep after just one.”

Morpheus huffs out a chuckle. “Lead the way, then.”

They go downstairs and order cups of hot chocolate from the crowded café before walking aimlessly around the hotel. They find a garden blanketed with thick snow, and a small gym that's closed for the night.

They eventually end up on a small balcony on the second floor overlooking the amenities at the back of the hotel.

“There's a tennis court,” Hob notices. “Do you play?”

Morpheus shakes his head. “I am not inclined towards sports.”

“What do you do, then? When you're not getting stranded in hotels with strangers.”

“I own a pub that also rents out rooms for those who need a place to stay.”

“Wow, I wouldn't have figured you as a pub owner.”

Morpheus arches an eyebrow in amusement. “You’d have expected me to have a beard? To be more extroverted like a bartender?”

“No,” Hob chuckles. “You just look like an artist, that's all. One of those fancy ones. With your eye for books and gorgeous fashion sense.”

Morpheus smiles. “I do play the piano and write songs, so you're not entirely wrong.”

“Really? I'd love to hear you play some time,” Hob says and instantly regrets it.

It implies a next time, that he wants to keep seeing Morpheus even after tonight.

Too much, too soon. A ring discarded on the coffee table—

“I would love to play for you,” Morpheus' soft voice puts a halt on Hob's thoughts. His blue eyes are bright with sincerity, and his lips curve with that smile that Hob is beginning to grow fond of. “And what do you do, Hob? Apart from judging people based on their appearance.”

“Hey, you just said I wasn't entirely wrong,” Hob points out.

Morpheus just chuckles and takes a sip from his cup.

“I'm a college professor, Literature.” Hob leans against the railing.

“I see,” Morpheus sounds pleasantly surprised. “Do you nurture young minds to express themselves through the written word, or torture them with poetry analyzations?”

“I delight them with Christopher Marlowe, thank you very much. I torture them with Shakespeare.”

Morpheus laughs and glances down into his cup. “I must admit I… did not expect this at all when they said we would have to spend the night here.”

“You didn't expect a college professor with a bag full of wrapped trinkets?” Hob finishes his hot chocolate and places the cup on the railing.

Morpheus smiles and looks at Hob again, and Hob feels something flutter in his stomach at receiving a smile like that.

“I did not expect anyone at all. I am not the most… approachable, I've been told. I had thought I would be spending Christmas Eve by myself.” He empties his cup too and sets it down beside Hob’s.

Hob wonders who could have told Morpheus that, but he decides not to pry and just shrugs. “I didn't want to spend Christmas Eve alone, and you're good company.” He takes a step closer and playfully leans forward. “I'm glad it's you I accidentally fell asleep on.”

Morpheus chuckles and also takes a step closer. “And I'm glad I put my book away to spend time with you.”

“Still interested, then?” Hob says even as his face warms.

“Yes.” Morpheus holds his gaze, eyes glittering with intent.

Hob’s mouth suddenly goes dry, and he can’t help but stare at those rosy pink lips, wondering if they would taste like the chocolate drink Morpheus just finished.

“You're the one who told me to enjoy Christmas Eve, correct?” Morpheus steps even closer.

Hob swallows, meeting Morpheus’ eyes and unable to look away. “Y-Yeah, you should.” He could easily step backwards to put more distance between them, but right now there's nothing on this earth that could make him want to do that.

“Hob…” Morpheus whispers and noses along Hob’s cheekbone, his warm breath like a caress.

Hob grabs Morpheus' face with both hands and presses their lips together, swallowing the pleased hum that slipped out of Morpheus.

The glide of their tongues against each other is soft, and Hob was right that Morpheus’ mouth would taste like the hot chocolate, except it’s infinitely better and Hob can’t stop chasing the heat of it.

Morpheus wraps his arms around Hob’s waist, and Hob summons a great deal of willpower to pull away from the kiss, placing his hands on Morpheus' shoulders.

“Morpheus…” Hob says breathlessly. “I want… I want to keep seeing you after this. So if this is just a one-time thing for you, tell me now so I know to expect it. We’d both been with other people relatively recently and I don't want you to think I'm just using you as a replacement because I was really sad this time last year—”

Morpheus gently places a finger to Hob's lips. “I wish to keep seeing you as well.” He retracts his finger to cup Hob’s face instead, running a thumb across his cheekbone. “And neither am I using you as a mere replacement. I said I would love to play music for you, and I meant it. Even if we go no further tonight, I am already glad to have met you.”

Hob takes a steadying breath and tightens his grip on Morpheus' shoulders to ground himself. “Okay, okay… If you're alright with it, then I wanna see you again some time after tonight. I'm really glad to have met you too, and I wanna see where this goes.”

Morpheus tenderly rests his forehead against Hob’s. “I dearly enjoy your company and I would like the same.” He pulls back to look at Hob. “Though I am hoping that where this goes next is to our shared bedroom?” he says with a fond smile. “Even if all you want to do is talk, I wish to keep holding you in my arms and—”

Hob has surged up to kiss him again, pushing him backwards against a wall.

Morpheus puts his hands on the small of Hob’s back and pulls him closer, meeting the kiss with such enthusiasm that it makes Hob pleasantly lightheaded.

They do eventually make it to their bedroom, though Hob can't at all remember how. He just hears the click of a lock and the next thing he knows he's on his back on the bed, Morpheus looming beautifully over him.

He grabs the front of Morpheus' coat and pulls him down, kissing him like he needs it to breathe.

Morpheus' tongue dives deep, exploring Hob's mouth and eliciting sounds that Hob might have been embarrassed by if not for the fact that Morpheus is making them too.

Morpheus' fingers slip under Hob's shirt and he shivers, earning him another pleased hum.

They push and pull and squirm until coat and jacket and shirts fall unceremoniously to the floor.

Hob feels the hard line of Morpheus' cock against his own through their trousers and a wounded noise escapes him, his hips bucking up to chase more of the sensation.

Morpheus mirrors his impatience and reaches with trembling fingers to undo Hob’s fly. Hob bites his lip to maintain a modicum of composure as he returns the favour, and soon enough they've divested each other of the rest of their clothing.

Hob gets impossibly harder at the sight of Morpheus cock, but he doesn't have much time to stare as Morpheus captures his lips once more.

They rut against each other, precome making them slick and sticky as they moan into their kisses. Hob remembers seeing snow outside but he doesn't feel the slightest bit cold; his skin is on fire and every touch of Morpheus only stokes the flames.

Hob threads his fingers through Morpheus' hair, keeping him in place and relishing in the feeling of soft raven locks under his hands.

He feels a hand wrap around both of their cocks and Hob gasps, breaking the kiss and eyes rolling back in his head.

Morpheus sucks and nips at his neck as he strokes down their lengths, his pace quickening until he's making muffled whimpers against Hob's skin.

Hob’s legs begin to tremble, he digs his fingernails into Morpheus' back and his mouth falls open in anticipation as he feels the familiar pull at the base of his spine.

“Hob…” Morpheus moans sinfully into his neck.

Hob's response is a sound that's all vowels, but he thinks he can't be blamed when Morpheus is tightening his hand and twisting his wrist in a way that's slowly driving him mad.

Hob takes Morpheus' face and brings it up to him, wishing once more to feel those soft lips against his own.

Their kiss is more gasping and panting than a proper kiss, but Hob is too far gone to care. He thrusts up desperately into the circle of Morpheus' hand, his eyes squeezed shut and his heart thundering in his chest.

Morpheus deepens the kiss and sucks on Hob's tongue at the same time as he twists his grip—

Lightning shoots up Hob’s spine and his vision goes white as he comes, shaking uncontrollably with his screams muffled against Morpheus' mouth.

Morpheus follows him a moment after with a strangled sob, thrusting and pressing Hob’s body repeatedly into the bed as he milks them both of every drop of spend.

They're both whimpering when Morpheus slows down his pace and stops entirely, collapsing on top of Hob.

Hob can barely feel his limbs but he manages to put a soothing hand on Morpheus' back, and they catch their breaths together as they feel each other’s heartbeats return to normal.

Somewhere outside the hotel, a clock strikes midnight, and the distant sound of Christmas songs can be heard.

“Merry Christmas,” Morpheus smiles and gives him a soft kiss.

“Merry Christmas,” Hob whispers, still on this side of breathless.

Morpheus slides off him to lay on his side, and Hob immediately turns around and pulls him into an embrace, their noses almost touching.

“I never asked, what were your plans for Christmas Day?”

Morpheus hums and idly runs his fingers through Hob's chest hair. “Pretend to still have no phone signal so I can keep avoiding my parents. Though I shall send a text to my siblings to let them know I am safe.”

“Then… Then, if you'd like, you can come with me to brunch?” Hob asks hesitantly. “It's another yearly thing we do as a family, and you're welcome to join.”

Morpheus' eyes widen slightly, and Hob starts to panic.

“I know I said we'll still see where it goes, you and I, I mean. But it doesn't have to mean much, it's just brunch and I want you to have a happy Christmas too and—”

Morpheus stops him with a kiss, and Hob distantly thinks in the back of his mind that that's a dangerous way of spoiling him. He might never shut up if that's how Morpheus always quiets him.

“Hob,” Morpheus says softly when he pulls away. “I would very much like to spend Christmas with you and your family. Though I'd argue I'm already having a happy Christmas right now,” he smiles.

Hob chuckles in relief and presses closer to Morpheus, tucking his face in the crook of his neck. “Just you wait, we haven't even begun yet. I'd make you breakfast but there's nothing to cook here, so we'll just have to see what's in the café tomorrow before we leave.”

“Does that buttered croissant still have my name on it?” Morpheus asks as he caresses Hob’s back. “I'll have that for breakfast if it means I get to spend a few more hours cuddling you in this bed.”

Hob groans and pulls away to look at Morpheus. “You're actually driving me mad, you know that? You can't be gorgeous and sweet, it's not fair.”

“You are very much the same, yet you don't hear me complaining.”

Hob feels himself flush, and Morpheus smiles and snuggles into him, resting his head under Hob's chin.

Hob can’t help but smile as well, and he lets his eyes close as he feels the pleasant warmth of Morpheus' body against him.

Hob pulls the blanket over them both, and as they fall asleep in each other’s embrace, Hob thinks that he's already having a happy Christmas too.

———

Notes:

Hob's Baking Soda Bungle is based on that time my sister misread the baking soda measurement in the recipe. The cookies really did taste like chemicals 🥲

Thank you for reading! Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! <3

———

(2024 Sandman Connect4 Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

126 notes · View notes

newyearseve1979 · 23 days ago

Text

Cool Niece, Cooler Aunt

Or, Lilia and Alice spend some time together.

Content warnings, brief mentions of death and grief, allusions and mentions of malicious drug use. It’s pretty tame, generally

Lilia stared at the boiling teapot. The stove glowed gently under it, the sun lit up its shiny metal surface, but the water itself seemed unchangeable. If her stare bore into the kettle hard enough, the water would boil faster (or something like that.) “You could just use magic,” Alice said, leaning against the kitchen counter. Her hair was still messy from sleep and the orangish red streaks in her hair definitely needed re-done. She had an old Le Tigre band shirt on. Lilia vaguely remembered going to one of their concerts.

“It's the little routines that keep a girl together,” Lilia shrugged.

Alice nodded, smiling. She could appreciate the sentiment.

Lilia’s own robe was burnt orange and one of softest things she owned. Sun streamed through the window, lighting up the spacious kitchen. It was a far cry from her old apartment, Lilia knew, and she wouldn't have been able to afford it without the rest of the witches. After the road, after she’d fallen, she’d been stuck in a weird kind of Limbo. Alice had been there too, but that's all they could remember. Turns out the road had been made up so they didn't really die, even though Rio has still arrived to take them to that little inbetween world. Lilia didn't want to think too hard on that, because they’d gotten out when Jen completed her trial. What mattered was that she and her fuck ass coven (as described by Lilia herself) had bought a house together, roughly an hour’s drive out of East View, in the woods. It was close enough to other people for the working witches to keep up with their lives, and far enough away for Agatha to… what was she up to again? While the two waking witches assumed everyone else was asleep, Agatha had already gone out for a walk in the woods before the sun rose.

The teapot whistled, and Lilia took it off the stove. Alice had already set out two mugs and the honey pot. The house was quiet. Lilia and Alice were the only ones in the kitchen, and since it was a Sunday, no one had work. Not that there was much to do; Jennifer’s business was largely remote until she felt like returning to her shop, and Alice was still on the job hunt. Agatha was… well Lilia didn't need to touch that until she felt like it.

The quiet was interrupted by the music Alice had switched on. Bikini Kill, Lilia recognized it, Reject all America. “Good band,” she said, turning off the stove and mixing honey into her cup. Alice only looked slightly surprised. “I saw them live a few times.”

To Alice’s credit, she didn't let her jaw fall all the way down. “You Lilia? Really?”

Lilia smiled to herself. “Oh yeah,” she pointed at Alice’s shirt, “them too.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I’m not!” Lilia insisted, amused. She hugged her soft rope close, and sipped on her tea. Riot Grrrl had attracted plenty of witches in her area, and yeah, Lilia had been pretty into it. Alice shook her head, still smiling.

“I'm trying to picture you at a punk concert.”

Lilia rolled her eyes. She thought about a time when she’d straightened her hair and her old thrifted jacket. “Get me that leather jacket of yours, doll,” She smiled. Memories of stitching protection runes into the inside of her jacket came back to her. “I'll try it on and that’ll give you a pretty good picture.”

Alice gave Lilia a once over. Her robe was snug and secure, her curly hair was piled on her head, and an amulet hung from her neck. Lilia looked like a classy broadway star, not a Riot Grrrl fan. Still, she could almost picture it. Lilia with a shaggy haircut, leather jacket, and punk shirts, cursing out some moron. “Come on, don't tell me you think I'm too old,” Lilia huffed, half kidding.

Alice waved her off. “I’d sneak into concerts when I was younger. My um, well you know my mom died when I was thirteen? I wanna say that was the same time the movement was getting traction.”

Lilia nodded. “The years blended together for me after a bit. All my big losses happened -oh god- forever ago.” She finished her tea and put the cup in the sink. “How long did you keep up with it?”

Alice hummed, and hugged herself. “Till college. It kind of fell off a bit after I graduated you know? But freshman year was intense. I dated this girl who I thought was big into Team Dresch, so we’d gone to a few concerts. Turns out she’d been more into the story about my mom. That wasn't the whole reason we stopped going out though. But the movement had been this part of my life, in a massive way after mom died. She’d made sure music was always important to my life. I needed away from the magic shit, and it was a good place to be angry. I really needed to be angry; you know I stayed that way for a long time.

But after a few years, when I'd put in my old cd’s and records all I could think of was how… upset I was as a teenager. You know I didn’t deal with my grief until recently, so, I guess that’s something else. ” Lilia watched Alice, nodding at the right times. She definitely knew. She wasn't about to forget Alice’s trial on the road, or what she’d said later.

“Sad is better than angry.”

Alice’s head was tilted down, but Lilia saw her eyes getting misty. She moved over to Alice’s side of the kitchen. She put a hand on her shoulder. “I got back into it recently,” Alice added, "the music. It's way easier to find the old music on the internet, especially when Jen pays for my subscription.” Lilia knew what she meant; she was also on the plan.

“Well I don't know how to tell you this, but punk attracts all kinds of outcasts, witches included. Even if they tended to uplift white middle class girls over other groups.” Lilia patted Alice’s arm before stepping back again. “Trust me doll, you were where you needed to be.” The speaker had switched over to Dyke March by Le Tigre. Their singer was the same one from Bikini Kill. “I met her once,” Lilia mused, tapping on the speaker,“Kathleen Hanna.”

Alice wiped at her face. It was early enough that she hadn't put on her usual makeup yet. “Yeah? Do you think she remembers you?”

She chuckled. “No, probably not. But I know she’s touring right now with Bikini Kill again.”

“I saw that.”

Lilia didn't hesitate. “We should go see them. Tonight. They’ve got Eastview stadium for the week, and it's cheapest tonight.”

“Lilia Calderu is inviting me to a punk concert?”

“Lilia Calder is offended at this disbelief,” Lilia huffed, “you know twenty years ago I was getting more comments about my age when I was getting pins and patches than I bet your thirteen year old ass was. Compared to me, you’re practically a child. I should be asking if it's past your bedtime.”

Alice swatted Lilia’s arm. “You’ve been around Harkness too much.” Lilia shrugged. The pair made plans to go to a punk concert once the sun went down.

That evening, Lilia went through the boxes in her room that she still hadn't unpacked. “I know where it all is, there's no point in reorganizing!” She’d say, but it was really because part of her still wasn't certain the roommate situation would last. Either way, she found some dark, flowy clothes that were probably more Stevie Nicks than anything, but honestly, who was going to care. Lilia dug around for a few protection rings; the ones she always took, and the few extras she took to this kind of scene because she’d been around long enough to see some messed up shit.

A vision flashed to Lilia. Crowded room, packed venue. Sweaty bodies pushing her around. Someone yelling, Piss off Lilia! And harsh hands jerking her to the side. Too loud, too loud, too loud, so loud that it blurred her vision. She swayed. She dropped her drink; the mussels in her hand betrayed her. Was it the crowd or was it- no shit shit not again. When is this? Last time-

“Lilia!” Soft hands shook her gently, and Lilia put her own up in self defense, pushing back against a pink clad body. Soft hands held her in place as she pushed, letting Lilia have something to physically resist.. She found herself sitting, then, black skirts piling around her, grey curls falling in front of her face. Lilia was coming back to herself when Jen said her name again. “Hey? Kooky?” Lila looked around. She'd knocked over the box she’d been rifling through. Bobbles scattered around the floor, thrown about like whatever timeline was trying to speak to Lilia. Alice stood in the doorway. Lilia’s brow produced little beads of sweat as she tried to determine if she’d visited a vision or a memory. Jen nudged her again. “Lilia?”

Lilia shrugged Jen off. She rubbed her temple. “I just…”

“You went away for a minute,” Jen nodded. She tilted her head, with a rare Kale smile. “Anywhere good?” Definitely not.

Lilia chuckled dryly, using Jen to help her to her feet. “Somewhere loud.” She looked over at Alice. “You look… concert ready.” She nodded approvingly. Alice’s orange streaks had been re-dyed, with the help of Jen earlier that day. Her outfit was pretty close to what she wore the first time Lilia had met her. Only this time, it was a slightly different jacket with a list of different feminist punk bands painted onto the back. Her makeup was a bit bigger too. She tossed Lilia a pair of ear plugs.

“We’re good to head out in ten?”

“Give me twenty,” Lilia said. It wasn't a question. Alice nodded and went back downstairs. Jen smoothed out the shirt on Lilia’s shoulders. Then she went over and sat on Lilia’s bed. Lilia settled herself into a plush chair she’d picked up back in Vienna, right in front of her mirror.

“Where did you go this time?” Jen asked when Lilia didn't ask her to leave.

Lilia pursed her lips. “A concert.” She flexed her hands in front of her face. They did not fail her as she applied lipstick and mascara, or when she clasped talismans around her neck and wrists. They would not fail her again, and they hadn’t that night. It had been a close call, Lilia remembered, but that's all. She didn't tell Jen and Jen didn’t push. Oddly, she’d stopped pushing since the trial. But she had started watching Lilia. She’d stay in the same room a little longer, stay up a little later, all little things Lilia noticed, but wouldn't ask about yet. What right did she have to anyway, to tell her to leave. Not after she sent Jen down the road without her, and Lilia knew that.

Alice had the car running and music already playing. “What’s this?” Lilia asked as she slid into the passenger seat.

“Mommy Long-Legs,” Alice smiled. They pulled out of the wider part of the driveway and started down the road that wasn't necessarily a private road, but might as well have been because of how long it was, and the fact that there were only two houses on it, both perfectly crafted for woodland semi-isolation. As far as Lilia knew, their neighboring building was largely uninhabited. She’d never seen it though, as it was hidden so far back that the trees blended together into black before you could hope to see a house.

“What else do you listen to?” Alice asked, breaking Lilia from her thoughts.

Lilia hummed. “Jazz, older Italian songs, but seventies and eighties rock was a pretty good time for music too, I suppose. Stevie Nicks is wonderful.”

“Mom performed with her and Fleetwood Mac.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. I was pretty young, but I remembered it being a huge deal.”

“I remember that,” Lilia reminisced, “that was a good show.”

They got themselves out of the woods and started driving along a series of fields. Houses slowly started showing up, becoming closer and more clustered the longer they drove. The lights of civilization began to shine down on them, and suddenly the road was a bit less empty. When they made it into Eastview, approaching the venue, Lilia could start to guess who was on their way to the concert. She smiled-

Fuck off Lilia! She’s pushed to her knees, or has she fallen on her own. Help! Who needed help! The picture is fuzzy. Wrong. It’s not as clear as it should be. She’s inebriated. No, she's… she’s…

Her body slumps down, and before she can catch herself, Lilia hits her head off the dashboard. She curses herself, looks at Alice who drives calmly, and sits back up in her seat. “Um,” Alice starts slowly. She turns into a parking spot and shuts off the music. “Are you… back?”

Lilia looks at Alice, searching. Who’s voice had told her to- “Say something,” Lilia said.

“Something? Lilia are you ok? Do I need to call Jen or…?”

Lilia’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a babysitter, baby. I’m fine.” But she wasn’t fine. Time was not linear and she was actively jumping around. She couldn't hold herself, couldn't find where she needed to be like she had on the road. She looked at Alice. She needed to ask for help. She needed her sisters for the craft.

“I dont…” Alice bit her lip, “I don’t know how to help you.”

“Well I'm sure that's really hard for you,” she snapped. She rubbed her temples. In the vision… she couldn't get a grip on reality. It was like something was infecting her.

“I’m not taking your shit old woman,” Alice snapped right back, not missing a beat. Lilia barked out a humorless laugh. She nodded approvingly. It confused Alice.

“You’re into punk, right doll? Right. So why the hell are you a cop?” She gave Alice a hard stare. Alice didn't flinch, but regarded Lilia with suspicion. “I’m not, ok, that sounded judgemental. It was.”

“I wanted-”

“To help people? That wasn't intuition, that's common sense. The Protection Witch wants to protect people. So why not get into security? And don't give me that mall security bullshit, that wasn't your choice.” Lilia had successfully deflected back onto Alice. For now. Divine Mother, she really was spending too much time around Agatha. That thought made her shiver, so she softened. “You could be anything, baby,” She reached over for Alice’s hands, “embrace it.”

“Oh fuck off Lilia,” Alice groaned, “fuck that. I’m glad you had your enlightenment moment on the road, but you’re not ok!You still haven't even told me what happened after I died, so unlike Jen, I still don't have a damn clue what's wrong with you! And that's fine! But how am I supposed to protect you?”

“Don't protect me then!” Lilia shouted, “Protect yourself, baby! I’m not senile, I don't-”

“Need a babysitter! I know! You’ve fucking said Lilia, youve fucking said.” Alice slammed her hand down on the horn of the parked car. A group of punk girls, in their early teens, late twenties, cheered. “You’re smart and you can take care of yourself because you've been doing it for centuries. You and everyone else in the house, ok, I've got it. No one taught me how to be a witch. I never made a habit of spending time with women literally centuries older than me.” Her eyes welled up with tears, even as her face contorted back to the familiar anger she’d lived with for so long.

Her mother holds her hand, showing her how to spread the tarot cards. How to read people like reading cards. She will see her mother’s death, and her mother may not see the truth in it. “Please Mama, please won't you listen? Let me help, let me help,” and then in the dark of the night after vision after vision-

“Just let me help you! Don't leave me alone!” Lilia cries out, her hands flying to her hair and pulling her curls out of place, like she’d done as a girl. She shakes as her lungs try to puncture themselves on her ribs, expanding against the shell of her body. She looks back to Alice, ashamed. “That wasn't,” she started, “that wasn't for you.”

Alice nodded. She had unbuckled her seatbelt and was sitting against the inside of the door, her feet pulled up to her knees. Her head was tilted on her arms like they had been at the campfire on the witches road. Alice wasnt smiling though, she was waiting. Lilia handed her a ring to fidget with.

“My mother,” Lilia confessed quietly, “well. I lost her too. I couldn't protect her.” Lilia glances at herself in the side mirror. Her hair had been pulled into disarray. Her makeup should just be wiped off at that point. “I do not want to talk about it. Jen knows. But I knew it would happen, and I couldn't stop it, and I was alone and no one wants to be around a woman who sees their deaths-” her voice cracked, “so I was run out of everywhere. I apologize if I don’t know how to fix you, doll-”

“So don't try to fix me,” Alice said. She started out firm, then paused. She reached over for Lilia’s hand. Lilia took it- hesitantly. “Don’t try to fix, try to help. Advise. Ok?”

Lilia nodded. She pulled the curls out of her face and readjusted the neck of her shirt., fixing her posture. “And you don't need to protect me… just, oh Divine mother, just, support me. Sometimes.”

Alice nodded. A silent agreement passed between them. They did not, in fact, hug it out. They didn't go to the concert, either. With a peace made between them, Lilia saw a worse future. Her abilities were not deteriorating, she was visiting a time where she was drugged. Roofied. After Alice would tell her to fuck off, again, the protection witch would be separated from her. Neither would reach for their powers in time, because they would both be incapacitated. So instead, they went to an old vinyl shop. They left with some Grateful Dead, Billy Joel, and Alice turned Lilia onto the Crane Wives.

The shop owner, an older man, didn't peg them as mother and daughter, like his assistant had asked Lilia. Of course, Lilia said no. The shop owner, who knew and sensed more than his young apprentice, immediately saw them as Cool Niece, Cooler Aunt.

Sisters of the craft. He charged them extra.

They had yet to really understand each other, but certainly, they were getting there.

#agatha all along #lilia calderu #alice wu gulliver #fanfic #writing #aaa marvel #agatha harkness

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crunchwrapsnoopy · 2 months ago

Text

Promposals [Touya Todoroki x Reader]

˙⋆✮🪩As long as I look fly by prom night!🪩✮⋆˙

"Promise to get a little better as I get older. And you're so patient and sick of waitin" Prom - Sza

High school Senior Prom AU of my fav villain ◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠

HS! Semi-Normal! Dabi x F. Reader

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

WC: 1008

"Soo..." my best friend, Mina, started with a coy smirk, "anyone ask you to prom yet?" She nudges my arm, obviously hinting at my boyfriend.

I shake my head, adjusting the books in my arms. "Nah, I probably won't go anyway. Seems like a waste of time, not to mention money."

"It's our senior year! You're acting like your parents aren't loaded," she scoffs, clearly unimpressed by my excuse. "And really? I thought for sure Dabi would've asked you by now. You guys have been dating for, what, five months?"

"Yeah, I thought he would too, but it's whatever. He's just not really into stuff like prom." I shrug, knowing my boyfriend is the definition of lowkey. Honestly, I’m sure he thinks going to prom would mess with his carefully crafted 'mysterious bad boy' nonchalant vibe.

Her eyes widen happily as an idea forms. "I'm sure Kiri wouldn't mind if you tagged along with us!"

I give her a look. Her boyfriend, Kiri, is very outwardly lovey-dovey, and there's no way he'd be okay with sharing Mina on prom night. She catches the look in my eyes and immediately reads my mind.

"Yeah, you're right. Bad idea," she admits, rolling her eyes.

"Very," I agree. "You two have fun, though. I gotta head home and study for that econ quiz."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you'll have just as much fun with that," she jokes, giving my arm a playful pat before waving goodbye.

I wave back and head out of the school, walking toward my house, which is a short distance away in the suburbs. Normally, I'd ride home with Dabi in his sexy black Mustang, but he skipped today, which, knowing him, isn't too uncommon.

I unlock my empty house—my parents are in France on business, so I’ve been left to die. Well, technically they left me to "fend for myself," but it's basically the same thing. I kick off my shoes and head upstairs to my room, changing into some comfy lounge clothes before flopping onto my bed. I open my laptop and pull up my economics notes, trying to get through the material, but after a while, I realize I have no idea what the hell an "invisible hand" is.

I lean back against the pillows and let my eyes close. Studying is overrated anyway.

I woke up to the blaring sound of my phone alarm to take my vitamins that I had already taken earlier, but the alarm still ran incase I forgot. I groggily rolled over and squinted at the screen, still half-dazed from my nap. The time read 6:15 PM. Great. I’d fallen asleep for way too long. I rubbed my eyes, stretching as I sat up. My laptop was still open with economics notes, but the words blurred together like they were written in a foreign language. Ugh.

I pushed it aside and glanced at the clock again. Dabi would usually text me around this time, or he'd show up randomly at my door, leaning against the frame with that smirk of his. But today... nothing.

Sighing, I grabbed my phone, half-expecting another generic message from my mom or dad asking if I'm alive. But instead, there was a text from Mina.

Mina: "You sure you're not going to prom? Think about it! You'd look so hot in a dress, and I'm sure Dabi would change his mind n suck it up if you rly wanted to go. If he doesn't, still come and I'll make sure Kiri brings his best friend, so you’re not stuck third wheeling!"

I snorted at the part about Kiri's best friend. Mina's boyfriend has two best friends, Bakugo, who is painfully hostile, and Kaminari, who is super enthusiastic but also a little too much of a pervert, I'm not interested in either of those personalities. Either way, I have a boyfriend that I'm pretty exclusies with, and don't feel like pissing him off.

But the thought of prom? Of dressing up, of being surrounded by everyone else—feeling normal, like everyone else for a night—was kind of tempting. Even though I pretended not to care, I always wondered what it’d be like to go, to have that experience.

I stared at my phone for a moment, texting back:

Me: "I don’t know. It feels like too much of a hassle. You really think Dabi would go if I asked?"

There was a long pause before she replied.

Mina: "If u ask him? fat chance... But if you rly wanna go, I'll help u ask him!"

I could already hear her upbeat, enthusiastic tone in my head. It was like she was daring me to do it, challenging me to take that step.

I locked my phone, rolling my eyes as I flopped back onto my bed, already overthinking everything. As much as I hated to admit it, part of me kind of wanted to ask Dabi. Maybe he’d surprise me. But then again, maybe he'd just shrug it off and tell me he wasn’t into it, and I’d be left feeling stupid for even thinking it was a possibility.

Maybe I’d just let it go.

But a part of me couldn't stop wondering: what would it feel like to go with someone who actually cared enough to make the night special?

Just as I was starting to drift off again, my phone buzzed, snapping me out of my thoughts.

Dabi ❤︎: "You still up?"

I smiled to myself, feeling a little lighter. At least he hadn’t forgotten about me today.

Me: "Yeah, what’s up? :)" Dabi ❤︎: "Look outside."

I raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparking as I looked at my phone. Then, without thinking too much, I got up from my bed and walked over to my window. My heart nearly dropped when I first saw the fire—until my eyes caught the message the flames had formed.

"PROM?"

A laugh bubbled up from my chest, and I couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of it all. Running downstairs, I grabbed some slippers and hurried outside.

"Yes! But you really need to put this out!" I called out, smiling wide as I watched him casually stand next to the fire, hands in his pockets, looking like he hadn’t just used his quirk to set the entire front yard ablaze.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

#dabi #mha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi x reader #dabi x you #mina ashido #kirishima eijirou #touya todoroki #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #mha #high school au

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pawnshopbleus · 5 months ago

Text

These Are the Days Seven - Paper Bag

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader High School AU

For the summary, warnings, and more please visit here.

Previous Chapter.

The library was unusually empty. Normally there would be six or seven students sprinkled throughout the two-story building, but today, you and Abby were the only unlucky souls stuck in the library.

The last time you had seen Abby, she was arguing with her boyfriend in the middle of traffic, tears running down her rosy cheeks and a string of curses leaving her mouth. She had successfully avoided everyone in your little friend group the entire week. That was until she remembered that she had tutoring. Now, Abby sits across from you with her free hand resting on her bouncing leg.

Your forehead creases in concern. You had seen Abby do nervous ticks before but never to this extent. She was chewing her lip raw and if she bounced her leg any more then it was surely going to fall off.

You two had been studying for a long time. Maybe it was time to pack up and head home but then you weighed the options in your head. This was something to keep Abby occupied but at the same time, It was also doing nothing for her racing mind.

“Abby, are you okay?”

She looks up at you, almost as if you had asked her to kill the President of the United States. “What do you think?” she snapped in a tone that made your heart feel like a dozen knives were stabbing it.

You can tell immediately that she’s sorry by the way her nostrils flare and she stares at you with wide eyes. She’s taken aback by her tone just as much as you are.

“Sorry,” she huffs. “It’s just that everybody has been asking me that stupid question. I don’t know how I feel right now.”

The librarian narrows her drooping eyes at the two of you and makes her way over. Without the front desk blocking the view of her lover half, the librarian is hilariously short. She saunters over to your table and places her hands on her hip. She speaks in a high-pitched voice that resembles a dolphin.

“I have had to shush you ladies over three times. I think it’s best if you two leave and continue your shouting else where.”

You pack up your things as fast as you can and head for the door. The cool autumn breeze greets you as you exit through the back door of the library. Mountains of multi-colored leaves block the sidewalk as you walk.

Your bike is still missing, as well as the posters that you put up all around town. People have been tearing down your 'missing bike' posters in droves. Someone must like your bike to keep it this long. So, you walk down the sidewalk with your perfectly functioning legs, kicking rocks and anything that comes in your way.

Then, as you walk, your mind drifts off to Abby. Despite everything she seems to be taking it pretty well. If this were you, you would break up with Owen and never show up to school ever again. But this isn’t up to you. This is between Owen, Abby, and Mel.

There’s a certain look in Abby’s eyes that you’re familiar with. The look in her eyes that says “I’m not giving up on this.” She wore it during your first tutoring session and continues to wear it. You just know that deep down, she’s conflicted. On one hand, Owen cheated on her and got that person pregnant. On the other, they’ve been dating for so long and she isn’t ready to get rid of that.

All you want to do is help her but she isn’t letting anyone in. She can’t go through this alone or else she might do or say something she’ll regret.

Like every night, you make it home to a quiet house. You drop your backpack by the front door and drag yourself to the couch. You flop facedown and groan as your joints rejoice in being able to rest. You’re too lazy to reach for the remote on the coffee table so you lay down on the couch, basking in the essence of being home alone.

You’re awoken by the doorbell ringing a few hours later. You must have fallen asleep. You get up from the couch, drag your feet to the door, and open it without a care. You should have looked through the peephole first to make sure there weren’t ten burglars on the other side of the door, but you’re glad you didn’t. Abby stands there with a blank expression and two fast food bags. You step aside, letting her in.

“Can you do me a favor?” She asks, setting down the bags on the dining room table. “Can we talk about anything but Owen tonight? I might throw up if I think about him any more.

You put your hand on her shoulder and she doesn’t flinch this time.

"It would be my honor.”

You take her hand and drag her upstairs to your room. A night like this calls for something less formal than your ten thousand dollar dining room table.

Her skin is soft in a way that it shouldn’t. Years of softball should have roughened her up a bit, but as you grasp her hand, your skin nearly jumps at the softness.

This is the first time someone who isn’t you is in your room. You aren’t a messy person but your room wouldn’t reflect that. You quickly throw the mountains of clothes on the floor into your closet and quickly throw some trash away while Abby just stares at you.

You are the only person Abby trusts enough with this. Yes, Ellie’s her best friend but Ellie’s with Dina. If Abby tells Ellie, Ellie will tell Dina. Abby loves Dina but she has a problem with keeping secrets and right now Abby needs someone who’ll just keep her company rather than try to fix this situation. In reality, there’s no way to “fix this.” This isn’t some softball problem, this is life and Abby isn’t so good at this game.

“You can come in now!”

Abby opens the door slowly and smiles. This room is unapologetically you. With stuffed animals lining your bed and posters of your favorite artists and bands covering your walls. Your room makes Abby’s look minimalistic.

Abby sees the window. The beautiful window where she first saw you all those weeks ago. It feels like that Abby is lost. She’s lived a million lives since then.

Abby puts the bags of fast food on your desk and thanks you for doing this. She would have been more than fine with eating in silence at the dining table or chatting on the couch while watching a movie, but this feels a lot better. It makes her feel as if she was a normal girl hanging out with her friend after a hard day at school. It almost makes her forget that her boyfriend cheated on her and got a girl pregnant.

You pat the spot next to you on your bed and Abby joins you. It’s quiet for a moment, the two of you just basking in each other's presence. Abby’s the first one to say anything.

“She’s keeping it.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to talk about it?”

Abby sighs and puts her head on your shoulder. Her hair falls in soft golden waves and you have the urge to pet her head. Your fingers itch to feel her hair under your skin. To make her feel better, even if it’s just for a moment.

“I know. I just need to talk about it with someone. Someone I trust.”

Someone I trust. Those three words ring inside of your head. Abby trust you out of all people. You’ve only known each other for a few weeks and it already feels like you’ve known each other for a lifetime. You’ve never had a connection like this. Not even with your childhood friends back in California.

She continues, “I know there’s nothing I can do to change her mind. Mel’s liked Owen for ages and she’s hated me for even longer. Knowing Owen, he’ll choose her and he’ll leave me. That’s how his family is. They’re very traditional and they’ll make him marry Mel. His entire life is fucked up just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

You sit there and listen to Abby rant, your fingers digging into the skin of your palm. You’ve never liked Owen but hearing Abby talk like this makes you despise him.

“Abby, I’ll be completely honest with you, I never liked Owen but I tolerated him for you. At this point, there’s nothing you can do besides making sure that you’re okay. You are the innocent party in all of this. You can do whatever you want.”

You cannot stress this enough. Abby’s been so worried about what Mel’s going to do or how fucked up Owen’s life is going to get that she hasn’t been putting herself first.

“Right now, all I want to do is eat good food with a good girl,” Abby cringes slightly when she says that. She shakes her head, retracting her statement, “Sorry, that was…weird.”

You let out a dry laugh and roll your eyes. “It’s fine. Let’s eat!”

Abby crawls to the edge of your bed and snatches the bags of food from your desk. She flops down back next to you and hands you your bag of greasy food. The two of you eat while you talk about anything other than Owen and Mel.

As the night goes on, you feel like you’ve somehow gotten closer to Abby than anyone at Lakeview. Dina and Jesse were your first friends but Abby trusts you with anything. That’s something you’ll never get over.

Abby leaves around twelve in the morning. You told her that it was too late to drive and that she could spend the night with you but she just shook her head and thanked you for the night. As you watched Abby pull out of your driveway, you noticed something glimmering in the distance. The familiar silvery handles of your bike sit on the bushes of your front yard.

“My bike!”

Abby pulls off, smiling at your reaction. She had an inkling that Owen paid someone to steal your bike after the party and that feeling was true. Some poor football freshman kept the bike at his house for the past few weeks and it took some coercion to finally get it out of Owen.

You’ve helped Abby in so many ways that you don’t know. Getting your bike back is a small gift compared to all the big ones you’ve given her.

Next Chapter.

Tag list: @soupycloud

Thanks for reading!

#lesbian #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby anderson #the last of us part 2 #ellie williams #dina tlou #jesse tlou #joel miller #the last of us part two #the last of us

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cherrieflavouredheadcanons · 2 years ago

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Oh memories

Getting sent back in time hurts even more if the person you love has no memories of you, yet you remember everything.

Warnings: Emotional hurt, No comfort, crying, you basically go through your phone and remember sweet moments with your boyfriend you can’t have anymore.

Auhtors note: So as Satan is my favourite character, and Nightbringer is making me sad with some of the moments. I decided how to better cope that than with writing a small one shot. Also english is not my first language nor have I written for Obey me before but I hope you all enjoy this anyway!

You were lying in your bed in Cacytus hall, wide awake during the middle of the night scrolling through your camera roll.

It held pictures that now were more dear to you than ever before.

Whenever night came your thoughts were flooded with memories of the past, or rather the future, the time which you are originally from.

Solomon did his best to distract you during the evenings the two of you spend together.

He often offered you that he would take over the cooking so you could enjoy the evening after a stressful day of being a demon babysitter, luckily you always convinced him to either let yourself cook or to just order food, him still not catching onto the fact that you are doing everything in your power to hinder him from cooking.

The small smile that had begun to form on your face at that thought quickly fell as you scrolled to the next photo on your phone. It was a candid shot Asmo had taken of you and Satan as you were cuddling in the blondes room.

He had one arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close to him, a book in his other hand, though his grip on it was loose as he had fallen asleep along with you. His head was resting on yours, a content smile on both of your faces.

You felt tears well up in your eyes as you quickly scrolled further, though that only made it worse.

It was a selfie you and Satan took together, both of you had fake cat ears on your heads. You were smiling brightly in the camera, while he looked at you with a look on his face as if you had hung the stars upon the night sky.

Scrolling one more time, the photo now was one you took of him. He was gently holding a cat in his arms, cooing at the small ball of fur. You still remembered this day well. The two of you went to a cat cafe, and basically fell in love with a small black and white kitten that had a black nose. It was the one Satan was holding in the picture. It was so cute both of you couldn't help but to try and take it to the House of Lamentation with you. Sadly you were caught by Lucifer when your jacket began meowing.

Tears were now streaming down your face you wondered if you and Satan would ever be like this again? Now whenever he looked at anyone he was full of rage and anger, a look you only saw a few times before, and it had never been directed at you ever since the two of you had started dating. Now it was directed at everyone he came across, be it Lucifer, Asmodeus or you.

Of course you understood that he had basically been just born. He was confused and angry about his own existence, afterall he was the manifestation of someone elses emotions.

You weren’t upset or disappointed with him for acting like this towards you, how could you? He only knows this one emotion and can not control it yet, nor does he even know what other emotions felt like.

Though you did wonder, would you really be able to form a pact with him like this, so you could go back to the Satan you knew and called yours?

Would you even be able to get close to Satan like this? You may seem like a demon to everyone else, but you were still just a human. And Solomon never taught you a “Calm a wrath demon down so you can form a pact” spell.

Putting your phone aside you hugged one of your pillows close to your chest.

If you were in the present you’d now be snuggled against Satan as he holds you close and reads to you so you could fall asleep.

Burying your face in the pillow you were holding you began to sob. You missed these moments with Satan so much. You just wanted him to hold you again and tell you everything will be okay and that he is here for you.

You really hoped you would be able to somehow work all this out as fast as you can, so you can stop being a demon attendant and go back to your time, and back to your Satan.

Your hand unconsciously went to rub the place where Satan’s pact mark used to be, somehow the action still can provide you with a certain sense of calm, despite the mark and pact being gone and having to be reforged.

Closing your eyes as you were starting to fall asleep you hoped that at least tonight you wouldn’t have nightmares of failing your task and Satan never loving you again.

Though just like every other night since travelling back in time, you would be bound to have nightmares, only to have to pretend to be fine in the morning when you had to take care of the seven brothers.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me x reader #obey me nightbringer x reader #obey me satan #obey me swd satan #om satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan x you #obey me satan x mc #obey me angst #obey me satan angst #satan obey me #satan angst #obey me one shot

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queenshelby · 1 year ago

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Our Little Secret (Part Eight)

Pairing: Dark! Cillian Murphy x Virgin! Reader

Warning: Smut, Age-Gap, Daddy Issues

Notes: This will not be a love story. It will be dark, twisted and kinky. Cillian is portrayed as totally off cannon.

Later in the evening, you arrived at Cillian's and Danielle's holiday house in Cork with your parents. You all sat down, grieving, while Danielle opened a bottle of wine, offering it to everyone. You sat down with the group, sipping the smooth, dark red liquid as it slid down your throat. Conversation flowed easily, topics shifting from the funeral earlier that day to lighter subjects like movies and travel. But inevitably and unbeknownst to everyone else, your thoughts kept returning to the intimate moments you shared with Cillian.

Your mother, Sarah, seemed focused on the work messages that popped up on her phone, her attention drawn to the task at hand. Danielle, too, was lost in conversation with your stepfather Frank who appeared to be rather annoyed by his brother's wife's continuous antics. The air between them was dense and yet, the room hummed with conversation while a sense of unease hung in the air, subtle enough to go unnoticed by most, yet ever present to those who cared to notice.

Cillian often smiled at you in a way that was hardly appropriate, giving you a knowing look. It was as if he wanted you to know that you would always belong to him, regardless of whether it was behind closed doors or not. This thought brought a flush of both pride and embarrassment, causing you to look away, pretending to engage in conversation with the others.

Danielle glanced around the room occasionally, her eyes searching for something she couldn't quite grasp. She was oblivious to the truth that lay hidden beneath the surface, unaware of the bond between Cillian and you. And yet, she knew that something was up. Her husband was cheating again, and she needed to know who with.

There was no doubt about it now, but she didn't have concrete evidence, nor would she have expected you to be the one he was with.

The connection between you and Cillian was so subtle that nobody but you would recognize it and you even went as far as to pick up the phone and text him while he was sitting right across from you.

The rest of the company in the room did not suspect anything amiss; they only observed that you were slightly preoccupied.

"This suit you are wearing looks divine," you wrote to Cillian while looking around nervously, trying to divert any suspicion. He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment before taking a sip of his wine.

After a second or two, he typed up a response while ensuring that Danielle did not notice what he was doing.

"So is your dress and the fact that I know that you are not wearing any underwear beneath it now makes it even more appealing," came the reply which ultimately made you blush.

You looked around the room once more, satisfied that nobody noticed your exchange with Cillian before texting him again.

Feeling a bit anxious while texting, you stole another glance at Cillian, observing the play of emotion across his face – desire mixed with calculation. It made you realize just how much power he held over you. He understood exactly what buttons to push to get you where he wanted you.

"Will I get to spend some more time with you after everyone goes to sleep?" you texted back, suppressing a smile as you waited for his answer.

Cillian's thumbs flew over his phone, conveying his agreement in mere seconds.

"Absolutely. I will sneak into your bedroom after my wife has fallen asleep," Cillian wrote back, grinning ferally.

You felt a thrill course through your body at the thought of being alone with him again and of having him inside you while his very own wife was asleep next door.

"And what will you do to me after you sneak into my bedroom?" you flirtatiously teased, letting the excitement show clearly in your eyes.

Cillian grinned broadly when he read your message.

"First, I will lick that cum from earlier out of your pussy," he replied suggestively, running his tongue seductively along his bottom lip and your skin prickled with awareness as the image of him doing that to you.

"And then, I will put my cock back inside you and fuck you till you can't walk straight tomorrow," Cillian continued to text, making your stomach somersault with anticipation.

You gasped enthusiastically, already wet and excited just thinking about his words just as your mother Sarah spoke up, telling you to get of your phone.

You quickly turned off your cellphone and nodded at your mom as she handed you a glass of wine. As soon as you got the chance, you picked up your mobile again, typing another steamy message to Cillian.

"Are you serious?! Are you really going to come into my room tonight??!" You pressed send and immediately looked around the room to make sure none of the adults could see what you were doing. However, there was still a part of you that craved the risky element of potentially getting caught.

Without missing a beat, Cillian answered your question.

"Yes, baby. I will slip into your room, undetected, and ravish you for hours." He let out a low laugh, watching as you squirmed in your seat. His smirk said it all - that he had you hooked, completely under his control. No matter how wrong it might seem, you found yourself desiring him even more than you had before.

"You are on your phone again," your mother suddenly pointed out before apologising to everyone else in the room. "Y/N is seeing someone I think," Sarah then mentioned casually in her drunken kind of state.

You winced slightly, realizing that your cover may be blown and began to blush.

"Mum, please," you pleaded while Cillian put away his phone and smiled.

"Oh yeah?" he asked teasingly, causing you to cringe. "Who is the lucky guy?" he wanted to know while everyone watched intently.

Feeling cornered, you hesitated briefly before deciding to play it cool. "Just someone from school," you stated nonchalantly, trying to maintain your composure despite your racing heart.

"She won't tell us, but that's okay," your mother told the others, laughing lightly.

"Yes, because it is nothing serious," you told your mother while Cillian furrowed his eyebrows.

"You know what? I should introduce to the son of our new neighbors one day. His name is Max and he is rather good looking. He is 22 and studies law at Trinity," Danielle then suggested, catching everybody's attention including yours. "What do you mean by 'rather good looking', Danielle?" Sarah queried, intrigued.

"Well, he's tall, athletic, with lovely green eyes...the type that would make anybody stop and take a second look," Danielle elaborated further, painting a vivid picture in everyone's minds except yours.

"Maybe we could set something up?" Sarah offered jokingly, showing interest in playing matchmaker for you just as Cillian jumped in.

"I don't think he is that good looking Danielle. Despite, he is a little arrogant, wouldn't you say?" Cillian remarked, raising his brow at Danielle as he took a drink of his wine.

"He seems charming enough, Cillian," Danielle commented casually while Cillian shook his head.

"I am sure Y/N can do better than Max O'Connor," Cillian told his wife, sending a wink your way and you realized that there may have been a hint of jealousy in this voice.

Cillian did not seem to like the idea of you potentially seeing anybody else besides him. Even if that wasn't necessarily true in reality, the situation provided fertile ground for drama and conflict.

Meanwhile, Danielle ignored the comment and carried on changing the topic to discuss various legal matters related to the death of their mutual aunt. All throughout these proceedings, your mind constantly drifted back to Cillian and your impending rendezvous.

As the hours passed, the party finally started breaking up, leaving everyone exhausted. Everyone retired to their respective rooms, signaling the end of social interactions for the night.

Soon after you retreated to your room, the house grew quiet save for occasional creaks coming from the floorboards. Your heart raced with anticipation as you slipped out of your clothes and put on a thin silk nightgown that hugged your curves seductively.

You then settled on the bed with a book and began to read to kill time, knowing full well that you weren't actually interested in reading. Instead, your gaze kept wandering to the clock ticking softly beside your bed. The silence within the room seemed deafening, amplifying every sound. It appeared as though time stood still as you anxiously awaited his arrival.

Finally, the moment arrived. Quiet footsteps echoed down the hallway, and you instinctively recognized those steps as belonging to Cillian. As he approached your room, his breathing quickened, betraying his mounting excitement.

With silent precision, he entered your room, shutting the door behind him without making a single noise. The sight of Cillian standing in the dim moonlight sent shivers down your spine, as he stood there, wearing nothing but a pair of black Calvin Kleins.

His skin glistened lightly with sweat, highlighting his slender but toned physique. Your breath hitched involuntarily, your heartbeat escalating rapidly. This man knew exactly how to ignite fire within you. Inhaling sharply, he moved closer towards your bed, his intent clear.

"Danielle is asleep, but we need to be quiet," he said after he reached the bed and, with a swift motion, Cillian pulled your nightgown over your head, exposing your naked form beneath him.

Desire coursed through your veins as he traced lazy circles along your chest with his fingers, eliciting tiny moans from your lips.

"I will try my best to be quiet for you, Cillian," you whispered, reaching up to run your hands through his hair affectionately. His touch left trails of electric sensations wherever they touched your skin. It was hard to believe this was happening right now, so close to everyone else in the house, yet feeling so incredibly private and forbidden.

"Good girl," Cillian murmured against your neck, giving it a gentle bite. You shivered at his teeth grazing your skin, the eroticism almost too much to bear.

"Now spread your legs wide for me and let me eat you out," Cillian instructed huskily, his mouth dangerously close to your earlobe. His hot breath against your sensitive flesh heightened your desire, urging you to comply instantly. You obeyed, spreading your thighs wide open, presenting yourself vulnerably for him.

The mattress dipped as Cillian lowered himself onto the bed, positioning himself perfectly to taste your sweet nectar as well as his own as, just a few hours earlier, he came inside your pussy.

"Fuck, you are so wet and full of my cum," he exclaimed, appreciatively taking in the view as his fingers parted your labia. "I can't wait to taste you," he added with a grin, leaning in to press his face against your cleft.

Your heart skipped a beat as he slowly ran his tongue across your folds, savoring the tanginess that mixed with his flavor. Each pass made you feel wanton and depraved, wanting more of his skilled ministrations.

"Oh god, please," you moaned before covering your own mouth with both of your hands, trying to suppress the noises escaping you. The sounds emitting from deep within you confirmed his prowess and skill. But most importantly, the raw passion and lust filling the air intensified the experience, drawing both you and Cillian deeper into this illicit encounter.

"We taste fucking perfect together," Cillian groaned as his tongue entered your wetness once more, driving you wild with pleasure. He then suckled upon your clit, bringing you closer and closer to climax. Your body trembled violently, unable to contain its release any longer. With every thrust of his tongue, another wave of ecstasy crashed over you, leaving you utterly powerless against his expertise.

At long last, an earthshattering orgasm ripped through your entire being, nearly knocking you off the bed.

You tried to suppress your screams and moans, knowing that Cillian's wife was asleep next door, but it proved futile. The intensity of your climax coupled with Cillian's masterful manipulation pushed you beyond all reason. Your insatiable hunger for his touch consumed you entirely, transforming your senses and Cillian stopped quickly to cover your mouth with his hand.

"Ssshh, you need to be quiet," he cautioned tenderly, kissing your forehead delicately before pulling away, recomposing himself. However, his gaze remained hungry and predatory, making your heart race even faster.

"I am sorry. I will try harder," you reassured him while Cillian slowly positioned himself between your legs.

"Good girl," he whispered approvingly, running his thumb over your smooth skin. Your nipples hardened under his touch, aching for more contact.

"Now spread your legs a bit more for me and let me fuck that sweet little pussy of yours full of cum," Cillian commanded, his tone dark and demanding. Without hesitation, you obeyed his command, opening your legs wider to grant him better access.

"No, wait..." you began to say as Cillian positioned himself and guided his erection toward your entrance, teasing the tip around your wet entrance until you were both desperate for penetration.

"You need to pull out before you cum. I left my pill at home, so I didn't take any tonight. It should be fine, but just in case, you should not cum inside me again tonight," you warned him and Cillian nodded reluctantly before, inch by agonizing inch, he pressed forward, allowing only the smallest portion of his cock to enter you initially. Your muscles squeezed tightly around him, welcoming him inside your warmth.

"I will just have to cum in your mouth then when I am done fucking you," Cillian growled possessively, claiming ownership over your body. He proceeded to start thrusting into you, starting with shallow movements that built into harder ones as he got lost in the rhythm. Your moans and gasps filled the space, creating a symphony of pleasure that reverberated between the two of you.

Each powerful stroke brought him deeper inside you, causing both of you to lose control, surrendering completely to the primal nature of your connection.

"You feel absolutely amazing. So warm and tight. And I love how greedy you are," Cillian praised as he continued thrusting into you with forceful strokes. Your body trembled underneath him, your walls contracting repeatedly around his member.

He held your head firmly, pinning you to the bed as he spoke harshly, "you are mine to fuck, just mine!"

His words stung like a whip, reminding you both of whose body you belonged to during this tryst.

"I am yours to fuck, Cillian!" you cried out, losing yourself completely in the act. Caught up in the heat of the moment, neither of you could hold back anymore.

"I am close," you told him fiercely, pressing your lips to his neck as your eyes closed, feeling his strength flow through you.

Cillian responded with fervor, speeding up his pace dramatically, rocking your world with each plunge of his length inside you.

"Yes! That's it! Good girl! Take my cock!" Cillian commanded, sealing his lips around yours with a fierce, dominating kiss that left you both craving more. His large hands gripped your waist firmly, holding you in place while he continued thrusting into you with such force that you found yourself unable to speak coherently. All thought processes ceased as the pure physical sensation took complete control over your mind and body. Every movement he made felt electrically charged, sending shock waves throughout your system.

As Cillian pounded into you with increased vigor, the bed shifted beneath your weight, hitting the wall multiple times until, finally, you came, hard and fast.

As the euphoria hit you, time seemed to stand still - and then everything rushed back in one tumultuous torrent of sensation. Forcing your way past your limit, you met Cillian's gaze with a mixture of pride and satisfaction. The look he gave you, however, suggested something different altogether – he wanted to make you cry out for him. With one final forceful push, he claimed victory over your body. You screamed, the sound muffling slightly against his palm.

Still, there was enough noise to alert someone nearby and, as soon as you had peaked, Cillian struggled to contain himself any longer.

Without warning, he pulled out and released his seed all over your belly button, watching intently as the sticky substance dripped downwards on to the sheets.

"Fuck you look so hot, covered in my cum," he growled, tracing his finger along the path it took before collecting some of it and bringing it up to your mouth. Reluctantly, you opened your lips, allowing him to feed you his essence. As you swallowed, the bitter yet enticing liquid combined with the salty residue of arousal and sweat sent shivers racing through your veins. This marked a turning point between you two, blurring lines and reinforcing the bond of deceit that would consume you.

"That's good, isn't it?" he asked softly, his voice laced with both admiration and tenderness.

"So good, although I wish you could stay and sleep here, with me, tonight," you exclaimed, longing his closeness as, slowly and unbeknownst to him, you were developing feelings for him.

"You know that is not an option," he said dismissively, not looking directly at you as he got up. "I am married, remember? And if this wasn't bad enough already, my wife is asleep right next door," Cillian quipped lightly, avoiding direct eye contact with you, feeling guilty towards you as well as her.

"I know. It still would be nice to share another night like the one in the hotel," you admitted sheepishly, glancing sideways at him with a wry smile with was a suggestion to which Cillian agreed.

"I think that could be arranged when we are back in Dublin after this trip," he replied, smiling slightly.

Your cheeks flushed red with excitement, hoping that day would come sooner rather than later.

Cillian reached down to the floor, reaching for his briefs and putting them back on. His eyes were lingering fondly on your face for a brief moment before he was walking towards the bed again and kissed you goodnight.

He turned off the lamp near the bedside table and exited the room quietly, shutting the door behind him with deliberate care. Leaving you alone, wrapped in his aftermath, savoring the memories of what just transpired between you two, the thrilling sensual interlude continuously playing on loop in your mind.

Unbeknownst to anyone else, especially Danielle, who slept oblivious in the adjacent room, you allowed these thoughts to become a constant companion, driving you wild in ways you never imagined possible as, slowly, but surely, you were falling in love with a much older married man, and you knew that this was a disaster to happen.

Tags:

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillianmurphy #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n

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leggerefiore · 6 months ago

Note

Can we get... some relationships with Avery content? Please?

🎩Avery General Romance HCs🥄

cw: fluff

🔮 Honestly, getting him to even consider you as a potential romantic partner is both near impossible, yet almost much too easy. Avery genuinely does find himself too good for those around him, yet desperately desires both admiration and attention. This is something he wants to obtain due to being a remarkable trainer and talented psychic. His focus is almost entirely on those two things, and it is difficult to stray his attention away from it. Though his want for praise and admiration could actually sway him.

🔮 You had done just that. Being a close friend of his and one of his only true fans in a sense, he had naturally already been quite attached to you. This meant you were often following him around on wherever his gym duties or training brought him, too. He effortlessly fell into a relationship, finding your presence at his side a great comfort. Even as his fan base grew, and his ego got fed by more and more people, your praise mattered most to him.

🔮 Avery loves PDA as long as he deems it “elegant.” His image is first, after all, but he loves showing off to everyone what a close relationship he has. Many of the other gym leaders find his behaviour a bit obnoxious, especially with how he seems to want you to hang off his arm and act genuinely impressed by his telekinesis. Though, outside of that, he enjoys being able to give and get kisses from you. Usually, it is just quick pecks to the cheek as a greeting or holding hands as you walk together. Though if he finds himself in a clingier mood, his arm finds its way around your waist and keeps you close to him.

🔮 In private, he varies. If he wants attention, he is nearly unbearable with how clingy he is. It may even seem like he wants to be attached at the hip with how he sticks to you. Some level of physical contact is always on you when that mood is active. Even if you try to sneak away when you think he has fallen asleep, you may find yourself caught in psychic energy and brought back to him. Cuddling is a common thing when he is like that. Of course, if he is feeling particularly upset, you may find your attempts at affection outright rejected. Usually, it is pretty easy to figure out what mood he is in.

🔮 He likes any kind of affection from you, often feeling a far too inflated sense of pride you squeeze him into a hug or press a kiss to his lips. Though, it is easy to fluster him by cupping his cheeks and genuinely remarking on his beauty. While he is fully aware of how handsome he is (and frequently comments on it), having you praise him so openly makes him feel far too overwhelmed. Something that Avery particularly enjoys rests his head on your lap and having you comb through his long strands. There is a lot of tension in his scalp thanks to the intense focus required of his psychic abilities. Honestly, anything is enjoyed by the blond, though.

🔮 Dates are somewhat infrequent depending on his work schedule. Though, he does enjoy having them a lot. Avery wants to prove how elegant he is by giving you the best experiences as your lover. Yet… He sometimes realises that being a Gym Leader is quite a demanding job during its seasons. Even for one in the minor division. He likes visiting nice cafés and proper tea houses. Restaurants are also a common choice. Though, admittedly, his favourite is wandering shopping streets with you. The blond is quite fashion-oriented and loves the idea of picking out clothing for each other.

🔮 Avery is… quite jealous. Does he believe in himself? Yes and no. His confidence and ego are fragile and demanding, and he does have a genuine fear of you being swayed over to someone else. There is a strong sense of inferiority in him. His family has always found his psychic abilities lacking, and before training at the dojo, his battling sense was not the best. He often clings to you to first deter whomever may be flirting with you. Of course… If that fails, you will have to stop him from levitating them. He needs a lot of reassurance afterwards, too. There is an attempt to work on it, but most of it is due to his internal confidence struggles.

🔮 At some point, he feels so strangely in sync with you that he begins to be able to accurately predict things related to you. He truly believes that his psychic abilities are expanding, and he is beginning to actually find himself divining things. And, when he begins to pick up on just what you are thinking at a glance, he feels himself strangely ecstatic over gaining telepathy at long last. Of course, when this fails literally one time on someone else, you have to tell him that it is simply the closeness of your relationship, not anything related to his abilities. (Though, perhaps, he does eventually gain the ability to read your kind and yours alone. Something related to his familiarity with your brain waves or something.)

🔮 If you are a trainer alongside him – especially if you are involved in the league – you will be battling and training with him. (If you are a champion, somehow, he needs it even more.) He is quite determined that you make a wonderful pair together in both romance and battling. Your understanding of his usual battle preferences forces him to think of new ways to go about things while he often does manage to keep you on edge, determined to surpass you. Just beware, he might get in a mood afterwards if you go too hard on him.

🔮 A relationship with Avery can almost feel like a weird existence of being his most trusted person and emotional support. He does truly love and care for you, but he can become overly demanding if not kept in check. His internal struggles with confidence do rear their head, but he does genuinely want your relationship. He wants to show you off, yet he wishes to keep you to himself. It may feel a bit back and forth at times. Though, there is a lot of love in your relationship. Your support means so much to him, and he adores both it and you. It is quite odd, but it matches Avery. You knew what you were getting into, anyway.

#pokemon x reader #avery x reader #pokemon avery x reader #avery/reader #pokemon/reader #pokemon avery/reader

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aspecbuddie · 8 months ago

Note

Hiiii Sam 💕💕💕

Buddie + tucking the other in bed

-❤️🪐

Saturn!! My dude!! This actually isn't the one I told you I was working on but here! Hope you like it! 💚💚💚

The house is silent when Eddie returns home, which he was expecting. His shift had overrun by several hours, and he'd kept Buck and Christopher updated as much as he could, and so had hoped they would be asleep by the time he eventually returned, rather than awake and waiting for his return as confirmation he is alive.

There is a light on, but that's just something Buck does when he knows Eddie is going to be home after everyone else has gone to bed. So that he doesn't walk into everything on his way to the bedroom, apparently. (He's only had bruises from that twice, thank you very much.)

He drops his work bag in the entryway – to the side and out of the way. It can wait until the morning.

Tiptoeing through the house, he silently thanks himself for remembering to shower, change, and grab something to eat before leaving the station. Not only does he not feel like doing any of it now he's home, but he doesn't want to make any more noise than absolutely necessary. Nor would he have wanted to climb into bed with his boyfriend smelling like the aftermath of an abandoned factory fire.

He strips down to his underwear in the hall and slips on a pair of sleep shorts (that could be Buck's - it's too dark to see without turning another light on) that he grabs from the laundry.

There is a dull glow coming from around their bedroom door, so maybe his boyfriend isn’t quite as asleep as Eddie assumed. He pushes the door open quietly – Chris is asleep, even if Buck isn’t – and is about to greet Buck when he stops himself.

Buck is asleep. Eddie can’t help but smile at the sight. This man – his man – has fallen asleep sitting propped against the headboard, on top of the covers. He’s got a t-shirt and sleep shorts on, phone in one hand and a pen loosely gripped in the other, puzzle book in his lap. He has clearly tried hard to stay awake for Eddie’s return and lost the battle at some point.

As cute as the sight is, it also looks uncomfortable as hell, so Eddie allows himself one more minute of committing this image to his memory before he pads over to Buck’s side of the bed and tries to figure out the best way of getting his – frankly gigantic – boyfriend lying down and under the covers without waking him up.

Deciding there’s not really a way that’s better than any others, Eddie gently grabs Buck’s legs and lifts them slightly, trying to simultaneously pull the covers out from underneath. Buck stirs a little and Eddie freezes, silently praying for Buck to stay asleep. It seems to work, until Eddie once again moves Buck’s legs.

“Hrmph, wasgoinon?” Buck mumbles, wearily throwing an arm over his eyes, even though the only light in the room is the dim glow from the lamp on Buck’s own bedside table.

“Shh, just lift your ass up a little and then lie down properly and then you can go back to sleep, sound good?”

Buck removes the arm from over his face. “Eddie?”

“Unless you have other men over when I go to work without you, babe,” Eddie whispers, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead. “I just got back. Get under the covers, Buck. And lie down properly or you’ll hurt your neck.”

Buck makes some sort of noise that may have been intended as words, but ended up as gibberish to Eddie, but does push himself up just enough for Eddie to pull the covers out from underneath and wrap them back around him once he’s lying back down, now with his head on the pillow rather than sat upright.

Allowing himself one more moment of taking in the beauty and calm and happiness of having Buck in his bed – their bed – and wondering for the twentieth time this week just how they managed to finally sort themselves out and allow themselves to have this and be happy, Eddie smiles and turns off the lamp.

He climbs into bed, wraps his arms around Buck (who immediately moves in closer still), and drifts off to sleep with that smile still on his face.

#full disclosure: i wanted to use 'duvet' instead of 'covers' but i have a vague memory of consuming media where an american was confused by #what a duvet is and i got worried about it so covers it is #also idk if sleep shorts are actually a thing but i've definitely heard them mentioend in fic before so #asks #saturn 💚#911 fic #buddie fic #buddie #aspecbuddie writes #911 abc

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doc-pickles · 11 months ago

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sent to save me | sidney crosby (ch 7)

series masterlist

summary: vivie’s birthday party!

warnings: a little angst hehehe

notes: have fuuuuun!

xoxo

nina

“Mr. Sid! You’re here!”

Sid has barely walked through the door of Annie’s house before Vivie was in front of him. A braid twisted with pink ribbon adorns her golden curls, matching the pale pink dress that has glitter and flowers all over it.

“I am, couldn’t miss your party,” Sid grinned as Vivie hugged his legs. “I even wore my nicest shirt.”

Vivie examines the dark blue button down before nodding and dragging Sid further into the house. Geno and Anna are already standing in the kitchen, talking with another set of parents who are holding an infant not much bigger than Eva. There’s some more parents mixed in with the kids that are running around their feet and Sidney suddenly feels very out of place.

“Hey stranger,” Annie’s voice is a welcome reprieve as Sidney turns to her, his breath catching in his throat. She’s dressed in a simple light blue and white dress that flows around her calves, her wild blonde curls pulled away from her face with a ribbon. “Welcome to the fun zone.”

“It’s definitely something,” Sid chuckles as he surveys the room. “I feel out of place, everyone seems so… In their element surrounded by kids.”

Annie places one hand on his arm and rolls her eyes, “You’ll fit in fine. Don’t be a wuss, Crosby.”

Sid laughs at the annoyed expression on Annie’s face, the sound alerting Geno to his best friend's presence. He wanders over, Eva cuddled up on his shoulder, and greets Sid and Annie.

“Sid you take Eva, have to wrangle Niki before he start jumping off couches,” Geno doesn’t give Sid a chance to respond before handing Eva over and walking off.

To his credit Sidney easily takes the infant, Eva only fussing for a moment before she settles into the cradle of his arms. Annie watches him intently, noting how he’s begun to sway slowly as he whispers to Eva.

“Hey sweet girl, sorry daddy dropped you with Uncle Sid,” Sid smiles and runs a finger down the baby’s chubby cheek. “S’okay. You’re much calmer than your brother was, he would’ve been screaming by now.”

“I don’t think Vivie was ever that small,” Annie whispers as she peeks over Sid’s shoulder. “She’s so precious with those cheeks.”

“Did Vivie have chubby cheeks like that?” Sid sways slowly as he keeps his eyes trained on Eva. “My mom said I did until I was a toddler but I think Viv is too old to be able to tell now.”

The comment rips a hole in the middle of their conversation, the words bringing up the ugly realities of their situation. Annie takes a step back and Sidney immediately tries to stop her from leaving.

“Annie I didn’t mean-“

“It’s fine Sid. You two are very cute, you’re a natural,” Annie comments, voice thick as she presses a hand to her chest. “I have to- I’m sorry. I need to go.”

Annie rushes from the room without another word, leaving Sid standing dumbfounded as he looks at her retreating form. A hand settles on his arm and Anna is standing there with a sad smile, “Give me baby. You go chase after your girl.”

Eva is carefully handed from Sid to Anna before he follows after Annie with a quick thanks thrown behind him.

“Look at you,” Sid turns and grins at Annie as she sidles up next to him. Her hand falls to his arm as she peeks over his shoulder. “He’s beautiful, looks like Kris.”

Sidney’s house was crawling with Penguins players and their families celebrating the holiday season. Sid held Alex Letang, Kris and Catherine’s newborn, as everyone else milled about. The infant had finally fallen asleep in his arms and he didn’t want to disturb him.

“I’m thinking we can have a few of these,” Sid muses as he looks at Annie with a sly grin. “A boy first. With your blonde curls.”

Annie blushes and leans her head onto Sid’s shoulder, “How about a little girl with your eyes?”

“One of each,” Sid turns slightly to press a kiss to Annie’s hair. “I can’t wait to have a family with you.”

“Someday.”

“Someday”

Annie is standing in the backyard, hands braced on the top of a wooden picnic table as her shoulders shake. Sid quietly closes the slider behind him, standing and watching Annie for a moment.

“Annie,” Sid’s single word has Annie whirling around, tears streaking her cheeks. There's no words exchanged between them as they meet each other's eyes. Sidney slowly makes his way across the deck and Annie finally speaks when he’s standing right in front of her.

“I… I had dreams for years of a white picket fence and kids and a dog,” Annie sniffles, looking away from him. “I had everything planned out, how we’d buy a big house in Sewickley and what color our mailbox would be and our wedding that wouldn’t be huge but would still be a blast. All of it Sid…”

“Then why didn’t you tell me about Vivie,” Sid’s tone isn’t accusing or venomous as his fingers brush over her bare shoulder. “We could’ve had all of that.”

“Because you made me feel alone Sid,” Annie huffs out the words, still facing away from him. “You made me feel like I didn’t have a partner and that… I would be raising our baby alone. And I thought that maybe it would be easier to truly do it alone instead of you only being there when it was convenient for you.”

“Annie-“

“And I left. I knew I was pregnant and I left and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” Annie sobs. “I don’t have regrets Sid, I never have. But seeing you with Eva… It broke something in me. And I'm sorry I can’t give you back that time with Vivie. I wish things had gone differently but when I left Pittsburgh I felt like I had no one and coming back wasn’t an option.”

“You could’ve come back, you could’ve had me, Annie,” Sid pleads as he steps in closer to her.

“But that’s why I left! I didn’t feel like I had you when you were still there,” Annie cries as she turns and meets Sidney’s eyes. “I was so alone while we were still sharing a bed. Did you know Vivie was conceived the only time we slept together in two months?”

Sid doesn’t have a rebuttal as he stares at Annie with a blank expression. His heart is racing as they stand chest to chest, mind spinning as he takes in everything she’s saying.

“I wanted you to be there so badly Sidney, I really did,” Annie sniffles, her voice gone rigid and emotionless. “But you weren’t and I didn’t want Vivie to feel like that too. So I left.”

And there, Sid thinks, is the truth of everything that had happened between them. Annie needed him and he wasn’t there. And she didn’t trust him to be there for their daughter either.

Annie heaves a sigh and closes her eyes, chest shaking with the weight of the tears she’s holding back. When she opens them again she meets Sid’s eyes and cups his chin.

“I don’t have regrets but I wish you were there for me. I wish things could’ve turned out differently. Maybe we were just in the right place at the wrong time,” Annie sighs before she walks away toward the house.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there,” Sid says, stopping Annie in her tracks. “I was… so wrapped up in myself that hurt everyone around me, including you. But I promise I’ll be there for you and for Vivienne. And if I have to spend the rest of my life proving that to you then I will.”

Annie doesn’t respond, just stands there for a moment before finally going back inside. Once the slider is closed Sid falls onto the seat of the picnic bench, head in his hands as he evens out his breathing.

“Happy birthday dear Vivie! Happy birthday to you!”

A loud cheer echoes as Vivie blows out the candles on her cake. Sid is positioned toward the back of the crowd but he can still see Vivie’s wide smile as Annie kisses her cheek.

“You still have chance,” Anna’s voice jolts him out of his thoughts as he turns towards her. “She love you, can see in her eyes.”

“Doesn’t matter if she doesn’t trust me,” Sid shrugs, not wanting to give himself false hope. “I wasn’t there when she needed me.”

“Then be there now. Be there for Annie and Vivie,” Anya settles a hand on Sid’s shoulder and squeezes the spot. “You have second chance, don’t blow it.”

Sid watches as Vivie swipes some frosting on Annie’s face, both of them laughing together. He wants this more than anything, to use his second chance to be a real family together.

Sid loves Annie and he loves Vivie and he doesn’t want to be apart from them ever again. And if it takes him the rest of his life to show Annie what the two of them mean to him then he’ll do it.

Later that night Vivie is worn out as she climbs into bed and lets out a yawn. Annie smirks at the little girl as she brushes her curls back and presses a kiss to her forehead, “Did you have a good birthday?”

“Yes mama,” Vivie snuggles into her side. “And I made such a good birthday wish.”

“Did you wish for unicorns to live in the backyard?”

“No mommy that’s silly,” Vivie giggles as she swipes at her eyes, holding back a yawn. “‘m not supposed to tell you my wish or it won’t come true.”

Bringing the comforter up to under Vivie’s chin Annie smiles wistfully at her daughter. She’s half asleep now, her peaceful face reminding Annie so much of Sidney.

“I wished for my daddy to come home, so I can have one like everyone else,” Vivie mumbles the last part as she snuggles down into her pillow. “Night mama.”

“Goodnight sweet girl,” Annie whispers, choking back tears. It’s not until she’s in her bedroom that she lets her tears fall, wrapping herself in her blankets and crying until sleep overtakes her.

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby fanfic #sidney crosby fic #hockey imagine #hockey fanfic #hockey fic #nina writes

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savannahrose223 · 8 months ago

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Prologue 2

Jungkook

Trixie breathes softly as she lays in her playpen set up in my room. We use it as a bed since Seomi can’t seem to put enough money aside to get Trixie a toddler bed.

Standing up from my desk, I grab Trixie’s blanket and lay it over her sleeping form. The child snuggles into the fleece, but doesn’t wake back up. Her nightly bath always puts her to sleep.

I rub my eyes before yawning then I hear her calling my name from downstairs. The needles prick up my spine as I stiffen. The last thing I want is to go downstairs, but if I don’t, Seomi will come up here and I don’t want Trixie to see what she does.

It’s bad enough that she witnesses the beatings.

Grudgingly climbing out of bed, I switch off the light before turning on the box fan in the corner. I don’t want her to hear it either.

Stepping out of my room, I head down the hall and down the stairs. “Coming,” I mutter with anxiety creeping up the back of my neck. It’s going to happen again. I just know it. It’s the only reason she ever calls me down here after Trixie has fallen asleep.

I don’t want it to happen. I hate it. Everytime she does this, I get sick and lose everything I ate for dinner. I can already feel the bile rising as I make my way down the halls with trash bags stacked along the wall.

“Yes?” I say as I stand in the threshold of Seomi’s room and she sits on the edge of her bed in that robe I hate so much.

It’s bubble gum pink with magenta flowers all over it. It’s her unspoken sign. That dang robe. It’s meant to tell me what she’s going to do to me.

“Come here,” she says with that strange look on her face.

“I should take the trash out.” Anything to escape this, but I try this excuse every time she does this and it always makes her mad.

“You can do that tomorrow. Come here, Jungkook,” she demands, that rage in her eyes. “You know I need your help.”

She tries to look innocent.

She is anything but.

Swallowing down the rising bile, I take a step inside her room and nearly trip over the trash and dirty clothes littering the floor.

She grins like the cat from Alice In Wonderland. “Good boy. Now, come sit with me.”

Biting my tongue, I move over to the edge of her bed and take a hesitant seat beside the evil witch that controls my existence.

She stands and moves in front of me before pushing me back on the bed and pushes her robe over her shoulders and down her body. Seomi moves her filthy fingers to the elastic band of my shorts and tugs them down. Slamming my eyes shut, I try to imagine I’m somewhere else, anywhere else. As long as it's not this hell.

Still, I feel her climb on top of me and force me inside her.

My stomach rolls as my arms shake and I’m so thankful Trixie is asleep upstairs. She doesn’t know this is happening.

She doesn’t know the worst part of my sentence in this house. The worst part isn’t the trash, the beating,

or having to take care of everyone that comes through the front door. No, it’s the thing Seomi does in the dead of night.

“Such a good boy,” the beast purrs in my ear as she moves against me and I refuse to open my eyes.

It will all be over soon, like it is every time she makes me do this. It never lasts long, only until she is satisfied, and then I can go puke, shower, and go to bed.

Just for it all to start over again.

#jungkook smut #yandere bts #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #dark academia #maturesexy #jeon jungkoooook #jeon jungguk #bts army #army #bts smut #jungkook

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britswriting · 1 year ago

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Fallen For You H.S | AU - Seven

Fallen For You Masterlist - find description here

Read on Wattpad

Rancher!Harry x Plus-sized!OC

🦋Delaney🦋

I was pleasantly surprised when the weekend went by without a hitch, and I knew that was all thanks to Harry; whether he wanted to hear it or not, we wouldn't have survived without his help.

I walked into the barn where Harry and my dad were working surprisingly well together only to see my dad in there alone.

"Hey" I announced my presence, my dad appearing to be cleaning one of the stables.

"Good morning, Lane" Dad replied back, not bothering to turn and look at me.

"Hey, uh.. where's Harry?"

"He left this morning. He had something to do, he'll be back tomorrow morning" Dad replied, shuffling something around in the stable before the sound of a broom brushing against the floor was heard again.

The past few weeks, every Sunday Harry has disappeared and came back Monday morning getting straight to work.

I knew he had asked for at least one day off, which is completely fine and makes total sense. Everyone deserves a break, I just didn't expect him to be gone overnight for his break.

My brain couldn't help but spiral.

Was he seeing someone? Was he at his girlfriend's house? Did he have a whole other family? Did he have his own place? His own things? His own food? It would make sense why he was so weird about us buying him groceries, but how could he just leave that all for a week without so much as uttering a word to us?

Monday morning I argued with myself in the bathroom mirror over the fact that I willingly woke up early to get dressed for a man who seems to not give a fuck about me.

I mean honestly, who gets up before the sun just to curl their hair and apply makeup and make sure their outfit looks cute just for a guy!

Stupid, stupid Delaney!

I ran my hands through my dark loosely curled hair, my fingers separating some of the curls, applying another layer of mascara; double checking that I didn't have lipstick on my teeth before pulling my jean shorts up a bit more on my waist.

I stared into my brown eyes in the mirror, looking at myself completely done up for a man who could have an entire family somewhere else in this world that he left every Sunday to see.

Stupid, stupid Delaney!

My eyes began to burn as they started to blur; my quick blinking to prevent tears from falling wasn't working as they began to free fall down my artificially blushed cheeks, wrecking my still wet, fresh, mascara.

You're so fucking stupid, Delaney!

My shoulders slumped as I pulled open a drawer, yanking out a makeup wipe and proceeded to start wiping off all my effort.

First went the lipstick.

This was so fucking stupid. Why the fuck did I do this?

Then the foundation.

I could've been asleep this entire time!

Then the eyebrows followed by the mascara.

He's not even going to fucking care, nor notice! I not only wasted makeup, but my time and effort! All of this shit could've gone towards a job interview! A family reunion! A date for god sake!

I stared at my bright red, assaulted, skin; dark mascara still under my eye, smears of lipstick left behind, telling me I needed another makeup wipe.

My eyes burned as the tears settled in my waterline.

I looked date ready, and maybe that's what hurt? Knowing I looked date ready for a man who would never want to date me.

I washed my face with water and a cleanser before grabbing a hair tie and throwing my hair up into a now high, loosely curled ponytail.

I leaned back against the wall, my dark circles from lack of sleep, and the mascara residue staring me in the face.

Pulling off my expensive plain white shirt that had pretty lace detailing on the cuffs of my sleeves left me in a white, lacey bra; I groaned.

This was so fucking stupid.

Unclipping the fancy bra, I tossed it to the ground, ignoring the way my boobs fell and weighed down my chest as I entered my bedroom, grabbing a simple nude, plain bra and a loose t-shirt.

Stupid stupid stupid Delaney!

I wiggled out of my stupid skin tight shorts, grabbing some loose, easy to move in jeans that had wide, baggy hole's in the knees.

The sun was starting to rise, and I knew Harry would already be out this morning taking care of the animals and I felt like I was going to be sick.

I just wasted two hours on a man just to wipe it all off because of my stupid impulsive decisions! I could've just left it all on, said fuck him, and felt good about myself all day, but nooooo, I got insecure and wiped it all off and wasted it! I didn't even take a fucking picture!

Stupid stupid Delaney!

I ran my hands over my face, a strangled noise coming from my throat before I took a deep breath, grabbing my phone ready to hopefully get through today.

All day I avoided Harry the best I could.

I couldn't face the fact of what I had done this morning, knowing damn well this man didn't want me. Along with the fact that he could have an entirely different family and I refuse to be a homewrecker! Or.. or.. or.. I don't know! Anything that will paint me in a bad light! I didn't need the drama.

I got home from the market, my dad having called me asking me for help in the barn.

Walking in, Sassy trailing behind me like she owned the damn place, loudly meowing for attention; my father happily scooping her up and saying hello.

Spoiled brat.

My dad informed me that the horses needed their trail ride today before leaving Harry and I alone in the barn.

I stared at Harry's back, knowing I had to ask him for help, but deeply regretting ever needing him to begin with.

At least I wasn't wearing a lacy shirt, red lipstick and a probably crooked liner.

"Uh, hey.. how's it going?" I asked him, Harry bent over pulling bags of horse grain from a crate, placing it on the floor.

"Fine" he gruffly replied, pulling another large bag of grain out of the crate, tossing it next to the other two.

I nodded — even though he couldn't see me, trying to think quick on my feet to not let what now felt like awkward silence, at least to me, linger longer than necessary.

"Are you busy?" I stupidly asked, regretting it immediately.

"Yes" he replied instantly, my head falling back on my shoulders as my eyes closed.

Of course he's fucking busy Delaney! He's literally doing a task right now!

"I uh.. are you able to help me with the horses?" I quickly spit out, "My dad has to go back to the Rickman's" Harry froze, his muscles visibly tensing, "And the horses need to go on their trail ride, I just.. normally Morgan, or Wrenlynn help me, but uh.. well" I stumbled, my anxious racing thoughts no long becoming coherent in my brain.

"I don't ride horses" He firmly replied, grunting as he picked up one of the horse feed bags, his boots thudding against the concrete as he walked over to the ladder, impressively, yet scaring the shit out of me, climbing it with one hand as the other held the feed.

I watched intently, afraid of him acting all macho and then falling off and busting his skull open.

I couldn't help myself but call out, "But you're a rancher?" knowing damn well I should've left it alone, but I was confused by how someone who works on a farm doesn't ride horses?

Harry didn't reply, in fact, it seemed as if he was ignoring my entire existence, shuffling around stuff on the loft, "Harry?" I called out again, standing far enough away that I could watch him moving the bags of grain around, acting like it was as easy as tossing a throw blanket into a ball on the floor. I sighed, "Harry, how can you not ride horses? You're a rancher" I stated the obvious again, wishing this man would open up more so I could simply understand his stiff and stern reactions. "Look, I wouldn't have asked if I knew it was a firm no; it's just we need to do it, and everyone else is busy, and it's a lot to do by myself. I was just asking for help is all, but if you can't, or don't want to, fine" I turned on my heel, walking towards Baylor, my all black Shire horse, grabbing my brush to clean his coat before braiding his mane, wanting to prevent tangles and matting whilst we worked when I heard Harry say directly behind me, "Can't you wait for your father to be back?" making me jump due to the close proximity.

"He's booked solid helping the town, Harry. It's fine, it'll just take me longer" I replied, running my hand down Baylor's side.

I grabbed my step stool, taking the two steps up before draping a blanket over his back, fitting the saddle over the blanket. I made sure nothing was too tight or too lose, and that the blanket was lose yet snug in all the right areas. Grabbing my lead, I begun to lead Baylor out of the stables, hoisting myself up and over when Harry asked, "This is your horse?"

"This is my baby—"

"Baby nothing. That horse is bigger than you are!" He declared, my brow furrowing.

"That's the point"

"What?"

"That's the point. A big girl needs a big horse. I like that he's big. I like that I feel safe and secure on him, even at my height and weight. He's a gentle giant"

Harry appeared perplexed before shaking his head followed by saying, "My job is to help you, but I don't ride horses"

"May I ask why?"

"No" he replied instantly, my body stilling like someone had dumped cold water over my head.

Oh.

Why?

"Alright well, I need to get started. If you need anything.... I'm sure you can find someone" I unintentionally huffed, giving Baylor his command to start walking down the driveway.

I got halfway down the road when a loud, "FINE! I'LL HELP!" made my head turn over my shoulder, Harry standing a good fifty, sixty feet from me with his arms crossed over his chest just staring at my horse's butt.

I stopped Baylor, getting us to turn around and face Harry, calling back, "NO ONE IS FORCING YOU!" my hand running down Baylor's neck.

"DO YOU WANT MY HELP OR NOT?!"

Baylor and I got back to barn after Harry just stared at us; Harry watching me slide down my horse, tying him to the barn post so I could grab the horse Harry would use, "So what changed your mind?" I asked, clearly having a death wish, silently praying he didn't decide then and there to leave me yet again in the dust.

"It's my job to help you"

Ah. Yes. He's here because he has to be.

"Alright well, this is Tina" I showed Harry our Morgan horse, Harry scowling.

"I'm aware of your horses, Delaney"

"I know. This is your horse today. You said you don't ride horses, and she's really good for beginners" I ran my hand down her neck before starting to saddle her.

"Who names their horse Tina?"

"Don't disrespect Tina" I warned, "And Wren did"

"Of course she did" he scoffed, arms laid over one another across his chest.

I moved my mouth closer to Tina's ear, whispering, "Don't listen to him"

I could practically feel Harry's nerves seeping out of him as I grabbed his protective gear.

I held out a helmet for him, Harry just starting at it before slowly taking it and placing it on his head. He clipped the buckle under his chin and I grinned.

"I look stupid, don't I" he stated, rather than asked, huffing slightly as my grin widened.

"You look great" I laughed, his eyes rolling. "Have you ever ridden a horse?" I asked, Harry nodding, staring at Tina like she was some alien. "When's the last time you rode a horse?" my curiosity piqued, the senseful part of my brain ignoring the blaring alarms telling me to shut up and leave him alone and just be thankful he is actually helping me.

Instead of replying, he asked, "Won't I break her?" making me snicker, shaking my head.

"Nope"

"But your horse is ginormous?" He frowned, tugging at my heartstrings as he appeared like a little boy afraid to learn to ride a bike.

"Shouldn't that make you more afraid?" I asked, Harry's head snapping over to look at me.

"I'm not afraid" he stated, sounding offended that I would even utter such thing.

Yeah, okay.

Tina was saddled up, and I led her out of the barn, handing her off to Harry before hopping up onto Baylor, waiting for Harry to do the same.

I watched Harry stand still, staring at Tina, his eyes closing for a moment before watching him take a deep breath.

Oh. This is more serious than I thought.

I watched as he hoisted himself up onto the horse; I could practically see him shaking in his boots from here.

I started to lead Baylor back down the driveway, assuming that once we got going Harry would be fine. I poked my head back around my shoulder, Harry still just sat on Tina by the barn.

"Come on slowpoke!" I called out, teasing.

I continued down the driveway, stopping to wait for Harry, only to see he was still by the barn.

I went back to the barn, hoping off Baylor and tying him to the barn again then walking over to Harry, smiling.

"Hi" I grinned, Harry's eyes narrowed at me, "Need help?" I asked, not able to wipe the smug smile off my face. "Haven't ridden a horse before?" I asked, my tone slightly teasing, "Hm, figured you would've since you're a rancher and all" I giggled, rubbing my hand down the top of Tina's nose.

Harry's nostrils flare as he goes to get off, confusing Delaney

"Where are you going?" I asked, frowning.

"I'm not going"

"Why?"

"You're making fun of me. I have better shit to do anyway" He huffed, getting off the horse, beginning to walk away.

I knew I was teasing him, but it was all in good fun! I didn't think he'd actually get upset!

"I'm only making fun of you a little!" I call after him, snickering as my fingers pinched together, referencing my words. "I'll help you! Come back, please! I really need to get the horses out" I begged, guilt consuming me at the idea of having upset him. "Harry! I'm sorry!" I called after him, quickly jogging to him, my hand reaching out for his arm.

My fingers grasped his bicep, surprised by how warm his skin was, Harry still walking, ignoring my attempts at stopping his strides.

"Harry! Please!"

"I offered to help you, and you made fun of me"

"I know, I'm sorry! I didn't think you'd actually get upset!"

He turned quickly on his heel, facing me as I halted to a spot, "Why wouldn't I? I don't ride horses for a good reason and you made fun of me! Do you know how sick and twisted that is, Delaney?"

"But.. but I didn't mean to hurt you! I just.. you're a rancher Harry and you don't ride horses! It's a little comical. I'm sorry, please" I begged, "If I knew how serious it was, I wouldn't have done that, I promise!" I could feel my heartbeat in my ears as desperation crawled out of me, wishing I could take back everything.

"I don't appreciate being made fun of" He said, turning around, back enroute to his house.

"I'm sorry! Harry, please, stop!" I cried out, tired of chasing this man all over the ranch. "You know what? Fine! Pout! I didn't know it was this serious!" I yelled, my frustration staring to bubble over, "You know, maybe I wouldn't have made fun of you if you would've just been honest with me in the first place instead of keeping everything locked away! God, I try and I try and you just.. you just.. you ignore me! And you know what? Maybe that's my fucking fault for caring and shit, but YOU'RE A GROWN ASS MAN! Act like it!" I yelled, feeling eyes surround me.

My chest was moving rapidly and I quickly moved my head to see that all the animals were looking at me.

Great.

I ran back to Baylor and Tina, grabbing Tina and leading her back into the barn to take all her stuff off until I was ready for her again, tears flowing freely down my cheeks as I choked on a sob or two.

This day has been a disaster from start to finish, and I was sick and tired of it.

I was tired of constantly walking on eggshells, feeling like I can't freely express myself down to just making a joke. If he would've told me how serious it was, I would've taken him more seriously! Just telling someone "I don't ride horses" when you're a rancher sounds stupid! Why wouldn't I have thought he was just being an asshole to be an asshole? Somehow me reading him wrong has me crying yet again like it's my fault! If he would've just been honest I would've helped him.

I wiped at my face, pulling myself together before getting back on Baylor, very much so needing this trail ride for my own mental health rather than just exercising the horse.

"Delaney" Harry's rough, flat voice said, my head dropping low.

"What, Harry?"

"I apologize for not being honest with you." He said, getting my head to lift, turning to face him. "I don't ride horses anymore" He emphasized.

"Let me guess, I can't ask why" I huffed, tired of the back and forth.

His head shook, "I'd rather not talk about it, no"

"Okay, well. Thanks for apologizing, I guess"

I commanded Baylor to start walking when Harry stopped me again.

I groaned, stopping Baylor.

"You know Harry, I could've been done already. If you don't want to help, you could've just told me. I need to get this done. I have a lot of stuff to do today. I asked for your help because I figured you'd actually be helpful" I huffed.

I swear he flinched, his jaw clenching as he nodded.

"Sorry for disappointing you then" His voice was monotonous with a hint of sarcasm and... disappointment?

Shit.

"That's not what I meant" I groaned, my entire body wanting to just crumple into a ball on the floor.

"No, Delaney. It's exactly what you meant" He glared.

"No it's not—" I quickly defended, wishing I could just shut up and let him be mad at me; it would be a hell of a lot easier than bickering with him.

"Sounded pretty fucking crystal clear to me" He interrupted, frustrating me further.

"Goddammit Harry, will you just shut up for two seconds! That's not what I meant! I'm tired, I'm frustrated, and I have a lot to do! I swear I can't say anything without you getting mad at me and it's tiring!"

"You asked me for help!" His voice raised, nostrils flaring slightly before he took a deep breath, rolling back his shoulders, his Adam's apple visibly bouncing as he swallowed.

"I thought you'd be helpful!"

"I'm trying!"

"How?! You stop me every time I try to make progress!"

"I haven't ridden a horse in almost two decades, Delaney! I want to help you, I just don't remember how exactly" He grumbled, his hand moving up to brush against the tip of his nose before falling to his side and pulling at the end of shirt, attempting to straighten it out more, followed by running his hands through his hair, a few pieces falling down against his forehead.

"You could've just said that, you know. I would've helped and we could've avoided this entire song and dance you like to put us through" I huffed yet again, wishing I could strangle and kiss him all at the same time.

"My job is to help you. My job is to do what I'm asked. I.." he paused, chewing on his lip for a second, his eyes narrowing, "I can't do my job, when I don't know the task"

My head tilted, "Why do you view everything as a task?" I asked, brow furrowing as I licked my lips, rolling them.

"You assigned me the task"

"No," My head shook, "I asked for help"

"Same thing"

"No Harry, it isn't. We're doing the task together. I just.. I don't understand why everything feels like a game to you? How many times do I have to tell you that this ranch is a team effort? I don't expect you to know everything! Or to get everything done in one day! If you're afraid of horses, or don't know how to ride a horse, you could've just said that. I wouldn't have pushed you any further, or made fun of you; I could've helped you if you had told me. Can you please, please, stop viewing me as the enemy? I'm trying here, Harry and you just keep shoving me away! It's frustrating, and tiring, and honestly? I'm getting sick of it"

"I haven't ridden a horse since I was ten" he said abruptly, shutting me up.

"What?"

"I haven't ridden a horse since I was ten" he repeated.

"Yeah, no, I heard you the first time. Explain further please?"

"No"

"No? Harry—"

"Stop! Stop pushing all the goddamn time! You want to talk frustrating?! That's frustrating! You act entitled, like you deserve to know everything! I'm starting to miss when you were quiet, overthinking to yourself. You don't need to know everything, Delaney. You say I keep playing games with you, then what is this? I tell you something and you just can't leave it alone!"

"I'm just trying to understand you better" My voice cracked, my chest feeling heavy as I watched him glare at me.

"Well don't. Just teach me how to ride this damn horse so I can get this over with" he roughly replied, walking towards the barn, his back to me once again.

I took a deep breath, attempting to collect my spiraling emotions.

I'm starting to miss when you were quiet, overthinking to yourself.

Trust me, I hear you loud and clear this time.

"Come on slowpoke!" Harry called out, my eyes widening slightly as the burn intensified.

Did he just...?

* * * *

Harry shaved his head. This was not on my 2023 bingo card.

I would've had this out sooner, but I redid the entire chapter twice..

Written on: November 3rd, 7th, 10th 2023

Published on: November 10th 2023

Word Count: 3729

Part Eight - coming soon

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