‧₊˚♪ 𝄞𝄢₊˚⊹ it's not the pale moon light that excites me, it's just the nearness of you.
SUMMARY ｡𖦹°‧.ᐟ （ 2.6k ）sebastian wilder x female reader .ᐟ the night was already over. every customer in the bar had already left, but the notes of seb's piano still danced in the air, with no one but you to listen to it.
WARNINGS ⊹ ࣪ ˖୨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ 18+ unestablished relationship. reader is a performer at seb's. set after mia. that scene of pretty woman. smut. NSFW. oral (f!receiving). fingering. improper use of a piano. plot what plot/porn without plot. soft dom!sebastian. interrupted orgasm. finger sucking.
seb's had been buzzing that night.
not a single seat had gone untouched or any drink had gone untasted, every table, down to the ones in the corner that the usuals used to avoid, had been filled with celebrating couples and nervous first dates.
san valentine was always a great day for the business. there was something about live music and a dimly light ambiance that attracted the romance of the town for the entirety of the night. some people left after a few songs, and others stayed there all night until the chairs started to get lifted and placed on the tables for the closing hour.
valentine's was also one of the few nights of the year where you were a part of the stage for the whole duration of the night instead of just performing a couple of songs and leaving before closing hour, so your performance had always been something different on that night for the past three years.
"oh, god." you groaned to the empty four walls of the dressing room that sebastian had set up for you, your hands reaching behind your back to unzip the tight fitting sparkly dress you had chosen for the night.
your throat was patched despite the water you had been drinking throughout the night. you could swear that one of your fake eyelashes had changed its residency from your eye to your cheekbone, and you still had to shimmy your way out of this dress and risk losing one of your manicured nails because of it. you loved performing. you just didn't love the aftermath of it.
your hands were pushing your dress down from your hips when you heard movement behind your closed door. soft footsteps could be heard for a few seconds before they turned and faded into the silence of the bar, leaving you in the same quiet as before.
sebastian always stayed after closing time. you and some of the other members of the bar joked that he probably slept there because no matter what time it was, you could probably find him in the bar.
the silence lingered for a long while as you managed to get your legs out of their fabric prison, the dress already discarded on the floor where you decided to abandon it in order to focus on getting your fake eyelashes off.
your eyes were focused on the reflection that the mirror of the vanity offered you when the sound of the piano traveled through the bar, skilled fingers playing a melody that you had already come to recognize and place from how often you heard it in the quiet of the bar.
do#, fa#, sol#, la.
the melody kept repeating as you took off the rest of your makeup, and at some point, you abandoned the task of getting ready to leave for the night and drop on your sheets. instead, you got up from the chair and grabbed a robe, covering your underwear and the exposed skin underneath the black, soft fabric.
your sock clad feet guided you to the front of the bar, the sound of sebastian's melody getting louder the closer you got to his piano. he was focused, an unreadable expression on his face as his fingers moved over the same ivory notes. the ghost of his jaw clenching every few seconds was there, like each note awoke a different emotion that he was trying to make disappear.
the stage was cold even through your socks, but you still moved up the few steps on the side until you were finally standing on the platform. even then, sebastian's focus was on the piano. it was almost as if he was closed in on his small bubble, where there was no room for anything besides the instrument in front of him.
you didn't stop until you were leaning against the side of the piano, covering the notes on the right side of the keyboard.
"seb," you said softly, but the man in front of you made no gesture of listening to your words.
valentine's got him in a difficult state. he was sharper, he tended to have less patience for any kind of mistake during the performance. he was a perfectionist by nature, but valentine's made it worse. you still remember the time he fired the trumpet in the middle of a break because he fucked up his tempo and changed the entire mood of the interpretation.
your eyes were on his face before you looked down at his hands. "I don't like valentine's either." came your voice, finally gaining his attention. "too much... forced romance, right?"
his fingers stopped moving. instead, he placed his hands on his thighs as he looked at you. "forced romance?"
"yeah. I mean, you have all of the cards and the presents in every store... it feels like they're shoving it down your throat." you said, shrugging one shoulder as you elbows rested on the piano's lid.
meanwhile, sebastian was processing your words before you gained yourself that soft frown in his expression, his eyes widening just slightly before he shook his head. "I like valentine's." he confessed.
you raised your eyebrows immediately, not being able to stop the way that your jaw fell slightly open. "you do?"
"why is that so surprising?" he asked, his expression lighting up a little. "we have my funny valentine's thanks to it. I can't hate the date after that."
"well, i don't like it." you said again, but that answer only gave you the sight of sebastian shaking his head.
"you've just never had a proper valentine's."
"oh, yeah? and a romantic evening will change my mind?" you replied after letting out a laugh.
but sebastian stayed silent, looking as if he was battling something in his mind before he placed a hand on your hip and moved you so you were directly on his sight of line.
his hand stayed on your hip, the touch feeling heavy even through the robe. "maybe." he said now, his fingers moving towards the knot in the front. "you want to try?" he asked, his blue gaze piercing yours.
the feeling of the knot in your stomach gave your answer before you did, making your head move in a nod before you could even notice it.
sebastian's fingers undid the knot in your robe, exposing the bare skin of your stomach to his eyes. you felt the way that his gaze moved through your body, feeling almost like a touch.
he reached and pushed the fabric off your shoulders, letting it fall down on top of the keyboard to allow his eyes to move through your body freely.
he was still sitting on the piano bench, giving him the best height to lean forward and start placing open-mouthed kisses against the skin of your stomach while his hands started roaming through your body.
you could feel the warmth of his touch on your waist, trailing up to your hips until he was sneaking his hands underneath your bra, giving your breasts a gentle squeeze.
your hands had found purchase on his dirty blonde strands, resting your palm against his hair as he nipped the skin of your stomach before his tongue came out to soothe the spot.
you could feel his movements grow heavier, feel how his hands squeezed your breasts tighter before he suddenly pulled his hands back to unclasp your bra and let it fall off your body.
he pulled back just the slightest, letting his gaze move through your exposed chest on the dim light of the club before he reached to palm it once more. "gorgeous." he said underneath his breath, a touch not meant for you to hear it.
he could feel your nipples start to harden underneath his palm, his fingers coming down to pull and twist just to wake them up entirely.
the heat on your stomach was becoming tighter and harder to ignore with his touch, the dampness in your core starting to leak through your panties while he seemed to be trying to memorize your body. "seb." you said shakily as he started to kiss your stomach again.
he looked up at you, his eyebrows raised. "what's the matter?" he asked, as if this was a casual situation.
"you know what." you replied while his hands moved down to your hips, his thumbs tracing the waistband of your panties.
"I don't. I can't read minds." he replied, pressing your lips under your navel now.
"seb... I need you to touch me." you said now, and he hummed against your stomach, fingers hooking on your panties, but he still didn't pull them down.
"what's the word?" he asked. through the haze of your thoughts raging from how bad you wanted him and how much you hated him for not touching you, you couldn’t focus on what he meant, so the silence between you grew. "ask nicely." he prompted.
"please." you finally whimpered. the reward was immediate because he wasted no time in pulling those panties down your legs.
his hands gently pulled you down on top of the piano so you were sitting on the keyboard, your weight pressing down on the tiles and creating a constant background noise.
he didn't seem to mind because his next move was to cup your jaw to kiss you now that you were on a similar level, his lips moving with a hunger that you could only tried to match as you kissed him back, your hands resting on his neck.
he pulled back just to bury his face on your neck, kissing and nipping every inch of skin that he could reach.
meanwhile, his hand moved down your body, caressing down the skin of your stomach and letting his fingers roam lower and lower until he reached the dampness between your legs.
the feeling of your wetness coating his fingers had him groaning gently against your neck while you let out a sharp gasp at the contact, the kisses on your skin becoming more desperate. "you're so wet for me." he said while his fingers moved through your folds.
you moaned against his ear as your hands trailed down his neck to feel the fabric of his jacket, his long fingers stroking your pussy as you clinged to the fabric of the jacket's top collar.
his fingers teased your entranced, pushing the tip of his middle finger through the tight muscle before pulling back just to leave you clenching around nothing.
you whimpered each time he did it, wanting nothing more than to feel those long and skilled fingers moving inside you, but he seemed to be enjoying the soft and pitiful sounds you made each time he pulled back.
"you want my fingers inside you?" he asked, pulling back of your neck just to meet your gaze. you nodded, and he clicked his tongue. "I'm gonna need you to say it." he chastised, pulling his fingers away from you.
"sebastian, please..." you cried softly, hips bucking at the ghost of his touch. "please what?" was his only reply, his hands now far away from you.
"please. i need your fingers. please."
that pleased sebastian, who leaned in to kiss you while he pushed two of his fingers inside of you, greedily swallowing the moan that escaped your lips at the feeling.
he didn't wait for you to get used to it. he started moving his fingers right away, the squelching sounds filling the space between the two of you as his fingers moved in and out of you.
you pulled back from the kiss first, throwing your head back as his fingertips grazed that spongy spot inside you, your gasps and moans turning louder. and then, like it wasn't enough, you felt his thumb pressing against your clit and his lips wrapping around your nipple.
the combined stimulation had you clenching around his fingers like you were trying to pull him deeper inside of you, your breathing turning more and more shaky, and you swore that you were seconds away from cumming around his fingers-
he pulled away, taking your fingers out of your tight heat and his mouth from your breast, leaving you clenching around nothing and your thighs shaking with a tension that hadn’t been released.
he saw your lips opening up to say something, but the only sound that came out of you was muffled by the fingers that he pressed into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself on his skin.
"suck." he said, and it was just seconds later that your tongue was moving around his digits, licking your own juices off his fingers while he looked at you with his pupils so dilated that the blue was just a memory at this point.
"you're being so good for me." sebastian muttered, pulling his fingers out of your mouth just to smear your spit over your bottom lip, only feeling content when it was left shiny.
his hands came down to your thighs before he dropped to his knees in front of you, his lips trailing a path upward from the side of your knee until he reached your inner thighs.
he looked up at you, admiring the sight of your chest heaving with shaky gasps and your flushed cheeks before he finally made contact with your drooling pussy.
his tongue drove a like from your entrance to your clit, humming at the taste as if it was the finest dinner he had ever tasted. he flattened his tongue and gave you more of those long licks, tasting every inch of you.
his nose nudged your clit and your hand reached down to tangle in his hair, fingers sneaking through his dirty blonde hair to try and push him closer against you.
sebastian moved up, his lips wrapping around your clit to twirl his tongue around it, causing your legs to try and close around his head before his hands forced them open again.
his arms wrapped around your thighs to hold you open as he worked on you, your fingers in his hair tightening as he practically made out with your pussy.
one of his arms abandoned your legs so he could guide his fingers to your entrance again, pushing his fingers inside as he continued licking your clit while your hips bucked into his face.
soon, you found yourself in the same edge you were before, the coil in your stomach getting impossibly tight with the feeling of his tongue and his fingers working on you.
your sounds turned more high-pitched, soft whines leaving you after a particularly harsh suck to that bundle of nerves between his lips.
"sebastian... I'm gonna-" you started saying, prompting sebastian to get more focused on you. he started sucking your clit while his fingers curled inside you, searching in your walls for that spot.
the moment he grazed it, you let out a loud moan, your fingers tightening impossibly in his hair. "oh, I'm coming." you said in a whine, your muscles clenching around his fingers even tighter the moment your orgasm hit you full force.
sebastian didn't stop. he made you ride the high your orgasm for as long as you could, his fingers thrusting inside you in a rhythm that slowed down in pair of the shaking in your legs.
his tongue moved almost soothingly now, licking your clit gently until you used his hair to pull him away from you with a pained whine at the overstimulation.
he stood up from his knees and wiped his lips with the back of his hand before he grabbed your face to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his mouth as his arms wrapped around your waist.
he helped you down from the piano before he pulled away, wincing as soon as he saw the state of the tiles. it was ruined for sure.
"i'm gonna have to replace that." he said, but he just pulled you closer to him before catching your lips in another kiss.
you'd be the spoon, dip you in honey........... KEN !
reader is a mermaid barbie, ken does his very best to be a normal doll around reader ! | FLUFF.
read here ୭˚. ᵎᵎ
he is a sucker with a gun, gun.......... RICHARD H !
richard haywood as ghostface ! | DARK FIC.
read here ୭˚. ᵎᵎ
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ fanfics !
you can lean on my arm.................... DAN DUNNE!
you knew from the get-go that falling in love with dan dunne wouldn't be easy or painless. but you were willing to take that risk in the hopes that your love would be enough for him to see life in a different light. | ANGST.
read here ୭˚. ᵎᵎ
it's not the pale moon..................... SEBASTIAN W!
the night was already over. every customer in the bar had already left, but the notes of seb's piano still danced in the air, with no one but you to listen to it ! | NSFW.
⋆˚🔪ྀིྀི🩸⋆༺ he is a sucker with a gun, gun, gun, gun !!!!
pairing: richard haywood x fem!reader
WARNINGS ⊹ ࣪ ˖୨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ dead dove: do not
eat. violence. stalking. dark fic. blood. mention of murder. ghostface richard and justin. richard is 19!! toxic af.
a/n: my writing's shit but at least it's not ai💓
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ the news about ghostface had spread all around the usa like a forest fire. no matter where you looked or who you talked to, all they could talk about was the tragedy that took place in woodsboro, california. every news outlet covered the story day and night, updating with the smallest details about the case and everyone involved.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ richard and justin were some of those guys who were absolutely obsessed by the case. any time you happened to walk by the two of them in the halls, they were always whispering about whatever had been revealed now.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ richard was used to getting your attention just as easily as he did with everyone else. come on, he was richard haywood. lf he asked for your homework, you were supposed to offer to let him copy it the rest of the semester. and at first, you were the same. it's not like you were head over heels for him like everyone else, but you also didn't want to be annoyed by his pretty face and arrogant attitude daily, so whenever he asked for your homework you just handed it to him. less of a problem for you.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ until it developed into... something. the thing between you and richard couldn't be called a relationship. you hooked up with him twice, both times in parties, before he started hanging out with justin and stopped seeking you out, and you, being as petty as you were, responded by completely ignoring him in the halls and in the class you shared. you weren't about to beg for his attention.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ it bothered him. not because he missed you, but because it left him feeling bitter. he was used to girls fawning over him when he disappeared. for godsake, there was a european girl still calling him after his one month trip to italy. how could you just start ignoring him after he gifted you two nights together? it got on his nerves. you got on his nerves.
"hey." richard's voice came before you could even turn to look at him, the jack-ass smile practically obvious in that simple sentence.
you reluctantly closed your locker door and turned to look at your right, where richard was already less than a feet away from you. "what?" you asked, your hand resting on your backpack strap.
"what's the hurry?" he asked once he was right in front of you, the charm in his voice practically dripping. "can't we talk for five minutes? you couldn’t get enough of me two months ago." he added, his hand already coming to the back of your neck. he saw you roll your eyes, and his smile turned sharper and more cocky. "yeah. you made that exact same face."
"fuck off, richard." you said immediately, your face turning into an annoyed frown. "i stopped being interested two months ago."
oh. those words hit him square in a part of his stomach where his arrogance lived, especially with the way that you moved his hand away from his neck like he was an annoying bug.
"no one's uninterested-" he started saying, but you didn't linger enough to hear what he had to say. you just turned around and started walking away. from him.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ the idea had hit him after listening to you talking with your friend in the middle of your english class. you were complaining in whispers about how the news kept talking about the "ghostface shit" and how "no one wanted to hear about two insane fucks who did it."
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ he had practically ran to justin at the ring for lunch, pushing whoever got in his way to the side without lingering to hear their complaints.
"you and me. ghostface." he said as soon as he was standing in front of justin, not even caring that the other man was deeply focused in his book.
justin lifted his gaze, frowning as he processed his words. "what are you talking about?" he asked.
"she hates it. we use it to scare her a little, then I come and save her and win her back." richard said as if it was obvious, shrugging one shoulder.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ the first call had come at 2.02 a.m. on a friday night while you were in the middle of a malcom in the middle marathon. you picked up the phone after the first ring and placed it against your ear, only to hear a breathy: "do you like scary movies?" you didn't even entertain whoever was on the other side of that phone call because five seconds later, you hung up the phone and disconnected it. not tonight.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ the calls kept coming and coming. you never indulged, no matter how creepy they became.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ richard was properly pissed off at that. he was doing all of this for you and you wouldn't listen to him? or at least, that was until you sat on your couch after school, tv turned on in some news channel only to listen to the reporter start talking about how the ghostface fever had arrived to your san benito. the victim was a girl from your english class, the same girl you had been talking to that day.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ richard looked the same as he stepped into the classroom the next day, shooting you one of his annoying looks as he slid onto his usual seat. "where's your friend?" he said, nodding towards the empty chair next to you. you had to turn your head to the other side to hide your tears.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ it hadn't stopped with her. the police and the news kept reporting two more victims, each of them related to you somehow. the guy who had tutored you, even the girl who you always walked through the doors with.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ richard had started finding his opportunities to get closer to you. during school assemblies, he'd sit on your side, his hand finding a way to rest on your shoulder or even take your hand in his. you couldn’t even fight him anymore, you just let him worm his way back in your life. he'd comfort you while you cried during memorials, fight with teachers to let you turn in homework after the deadline, do everything at his power to keep you calm.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ you had started depending on him, as much as you hated it. when you saw the teachers place a small altar for everyone the school had lost, you'd immediately start looking for him to crumble in his arms.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ richard loved it. that's why he and justin had gotten more cocky. they had three victims so far, but richard wanted to make sure that he had you wrapped around your finger completely.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ the next one was your best friend. you and her had been friends since diapers. she was the only other person who had been close to you during this time, comforting you just as much as richard had.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ it was almost 8 pm. when the call had first come. richard was on the other side of the phone, keeping her distracted while justin sneaked into the house. the girl was easy to play with, giggling stupidly at the breathy voice who asked what movies she liked.
justin was in through the backdoor as she stood by the phone near the stairs, her back turned to all of the kitchen of her house. justin moved slowly, making sure that no sound came from his steps as he approached her.
the knife that slit her throat wasn't gentle. it made a sharp line, causing her hands to drop her phone to hurriedly bring them to her neck as if that would stop the river of blood escaping from her flesh to drop on the floor.
she dropped to her knees, coughing sharply and pitifully as richard made his way inside of the house. he never liked the killing part, but he knew that with a few words and what not he could convince justing to do it himself.
"well. she went down without a fight," richard said once he was standing next to justin, watching the way that the blood started painting her fingers and pooling around her body, painting her soft blue sweater to a dark color instead.
˚₊‧⁺⋆ ♱ it was in the middle of moving her body that the front door started opening, your cheerful, clueless voice filling the space. "I know you said that I have to stop coming inside your place like this, but i-"
your words died down when you stepped into the house, only to find the scene of justin and richard in black robes, masks thrown to the floor as they stood next to a pool of dark blood, your friends legs being held by richard's arms like she was just a doll.
you mouth opened as your legs started to move back, but your yell was muffled and your run was stopped by a hand pressed against your mouth that pushed you against the wall, your eyes forced to meet the sight of richard's face.
"no, no. shhh, no yelling." he said in a voice that felt like a forced combination of comforting and harsh, his fingers digging harder into your cheeks to keep your jaw still. "I did this for you." richard whispered next, his face moving closer to yours.
"you don't need anyone else." he continued, his voice turning sickeningly gentle now as his free, blood-stained hand came to brush through your hair. "just me. but you, you were too stubborn to see it. I tried to get close to you, but you kept thinking that you didn't need me. that you were uninterested. you wouldn't listen to what I had to say." he kept talking, feeling your tears drop onto the hand that was pressing against your face.
"no, don't cry. there's no reason to cry. I won't do anything to you now that you're interested again. I have you, right?" his blue eyes scanned your face, his fingers tightening when he didn't get no response. "I said, I have you, right?" he repeated, his voice sharper now.
you nodded furiously under his hand and he smiled, the hand on your hair turning gentle. "good. good, now you'll know what to focus on."
SUMMARY ｡𖦹°‧.ᐟ （ 3.0k ）dan dunne x female reader .ᐟ you knew from the get-go that falling in love with dan dunne wouldn't be easy or painless. but you were willing to take that risk in the hopes that your love would be enough for him to see life in a different light.
TAGS ⊹ ࣪ ˖୨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ angst-y. mention of drug use. mention of withdrawal. description of withdrawal. bittersweet ending. reader has a rehab complex tbh. no use of y/n. no description of reader. fluff at the end if you squint like a lot.
a/n: I JUST MADE SOME BULLSHITTTTTT its probably absolutely inaccurate because the only substance ive come across is nicotine so I apologize for that.
he was magnetic from the moment you saw him.
the sky was falling down on your shoulders. your clothes were soaked through as you pushed the door of the first establishment you came across to find a shelter from that storm, the water dripping from your clothes and hair making a trail as you walked towards the bar, already shaking off your jacket.
the bar was filled with people trying to escape the rain just like you, so it was impossible to hope for a place to sit down. you still scanned the place in hopes of seeing an empty stool that could take you until the rain calmed down and you could get out on your feet again.
then you saw him. to say that you first noticed him would be a lie, because your eyes were immediately drawn to the empty stool next to him, but it was just a matter of time before you saw him. he was sitting on the corner of the bar with a cigarette between his fingers. he didn’t look at you, in fact, he wasn’t looking at anything in particular, not even the tired barman trying to enforce what you were willing to bet was a frantic consume policy that would only last for the duration of the storm.
your feet were dragging you towards the empty stool before you could even realize what was happening. i just need a place to sit, you find yourself thinking, trying to justify your actions to your own mind. It’s just a coincidence that you have decided that he, whoever he was, was a new question that you were trying to answer.
you sat down on the stool quietly, only letting out a soft sigh when you placed your soaked jacket in your lap. you immediately hated the way that your eyes moved towards the man next to you as if checking if your presence had changed something in him, or if he had noticed the company he had, but you found the same sight as before. he was staring absently at a whiskey bottle in the wall opposite from the both of you, as if he was seeing something else.
“hey,” a voice coming from the other side of the counter interrupted your already racing mind, making you shift your glance towards the bearded bartender, who was currently giving you an exasperated look. “you gonna drink or what? you need to order if you want the seat.”
“yeah, i- give me a guinness.” you said, moving a strand of wet hair away from your face, offering the barman a smile that wasn’t acknowledged.
It took him less than a minute to slide the glass in front of you before he left your side of the bar, probably after spotting another wet face to intimidate into ordering a drink that they probably didn’t even want. like he did with you.
your hand picked up the glass and guided it towards your lips where you took a slow sip, still way too alert of the man next to you. you swore that your heart had currently moved to inhabit your throat instead of your chest the second that you noticed through the corner of your eye that he had moved. just an inch, just a shift of his position in the stool next to you.
and then it came. the voice that broke the silence and almost disappeared into the background of the bar. “the rain is nasty tonight, huh?” he asked, and you could feel his gaze moving over the general look of you. the wet hair, the way that your clothes dripped and formed a small puddle at the feet of the stool you were sitting in, how the jacket on your lap was probably only making you colder.
your head moved to the side, only for your gaze to meet the blue eyes of the man next to you. a sound resembling a soft, breathless laugh left your lips as you shook your head “no. not at all, just a bit of drizzle.”
“so the soaked look was a fashion choice?” his words were amused, and he allowed his eyes to take a second look of your current state, the weight of his gaze feeling heavy in a way that you couldn’t quite begin to understand.
“sort off.” you replied, letting a smile settle in your lips.
It was a very pleasant surprise to find that your conversation with him didn’t die down five seconds after that comment. under the warm, dim light of the bar you found out that he was a history teacher in a junior high school and also the basketball coach for the girls team, to which you answered by revealing that you had never been fond of history in your high school days. after he got over his momentary offense, he said: “I'll have to change that, then.”
the words between you flew easily, more easily than a conversation in a bar should move. a part of you knew that this would be something different than usual when you decided to ask for his number instead of spending the last 30 minutes before closing time hoping that the next thing he’d say would be an invitation to keep the conversation going, to not let whatever was starting to take place between you two die when the barman gave you the last warning of the closing time.
dating dan was quiet. it consisted of calm strolls around the park that were sometimes accompanied by ice cream, of going to his place on friday nights after he offered to cook for you and spending the rest of the evening on his couch with his cat occupying his usual spot between the two of you, acting more like a chaperone than a pet.
you were getting to know him better. your mind started collecting details about him, like how his apartment looked more like a place to spend the night in instead of a place where he *lived*, or how he’d much rather talk about his students than his family. there was a loneliness surrounding dan that stuck with him even when you two were together, a certain tension in his shoulders that never seemed to disappear, no matter how quiet it was between you, how the heavy look in his eyes stayed even after a whole night of sleep.
the first time you started noticing something else was in the middle of one of your usual friday nights. you were sitting next to him, his arm draped around your shoulders while his cat had made himself a spot between his thigh and yours. the tv was playing a documentary on penguins, the narrator's monotone voice filling the living room, even if none of you were truly paying attention to it.
your hand was about to reach for the remote to change the channel and look for something more entertaining, but your focus was quickly drawn to the feeling of his hand shaking where it rested on your shoulder and his knee bouncing up and down in a frantic rhythm that managed to shake the couch underneath the two of you and made his cat jump off after being disturbed.
“hey,” you said, moving your head so you could try to catch his gaze, but it only gave you a bigger perspective of how he looked in that moment. he was sweating and the shaking on his hands only seemed to be getting more and more intense as the seconds went by, making the worry begin to control your actions instead of your mind. “dan, you okay?” you asked, pulling away from him to take the hand on your shoulder between yours, as if your touch would make it settle.
but of course, it didn’t.
“dan-”
“i’m fine.” he said before you could finish your sentence, his voice coming out sharper than he intended. dan noticed this immediately, and he shifted, clearing his throat like something was stuck in his vocal chords. his shaky hands moved to hold yours, making the tremors in them even more obvious now. “i’m fine, don’t worry.”
“are you sure? because you’re sweating-” you started saying, one of your hands escaping his hold to try and press against his sweaty forehead in an attempt to check for fever, but he pulled back before you could make contact.
“i’m okay,” dan’s voice said again, this time trying to make his voice sound firmer, but his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing, and his forehead still looked sweaty. “i’m okay. I just- i need to– i’ll be back in a minute, okay? don’t worry.” with a kiss to your forehead, he disappeared into the bathroom of his apartment, the door closing heavily behind him.
you sat there and stared at the closed door, trying to strain your hearing to see if you could pick up even the slightest sound of whatever it was that he was doing in the bathroom, but the sound of the documentary was the only thing that your ears could pick up right now. “jesus.” you whispered in frustration, standing up from the couch so you could turn off the tv in hopes of catching any hint of what was going on, but no sound came out.
you walked towards the bathroom door, knocking on the door just once. “dan?” you called out, getting no answer. “do you need anything?” you leaned against the doorframe, your arms folding across your chest as you waited for his answer.
there was only silence coming from the other side of the door, making the worry in your throat turn thicker than before. “dan.” you called out again, raising a hand to knock once more.
“can I call you back later?” you stopped before actually hitting the wood with your knuckles, a frown settling on your expression.
“you want me to leave?”
“I'll… I'll call you back later, don't worry.” he said, as if that sentence would do something to actually calm down the worry that had already settled in your chest.
you stayed exactly in that same spot, with your shoulder resting against the doorframe as you weighted the consequences of leaving him like this. the bigger part of you wanted to stay exactly where you were until he walked out of the bathroom to make sure that he was doing fine, even when he had just asked you to leave.
“are you sure that you're fine?” you asked instead of walking away, your eyes closing as you rested your forehead against the door.
“I'll be fine, I just- i need a moment.” dan’s voice was meant to soothe the nerves on your stomach, but there was a shakiness in his voice that made it impossible for you to actually relax, no matter what he was saying.
you were about to open your lips again and try to fight it, to convince him that it might be better if you stayed, but his words cut you off. “I'll call you.”
the deepest breath left your lips as you realized that fighting would be useless and that the only choice you actually had was to leave him alone and wait for his call while you drowned in worry. “okay. but call me.” you said, pushing yourself off the bathroom door.
the day you found out wasn't dark and cloudy. it was a normal saturday evening when he invited you to eat pasta at his place like usual, and you accepted without a second thought. his company was something that you didn't just enjoy anymore, but something you hoped for.
the knock on his front door came softly, knuckles drumming against the wood in a rhythm that he had grown accustomed to. by now, he should've already opened the door and offered you a greeting, maybe even a kiss if it had been a nice morning.
“dan?” you called out as you knocked again, hearing the faint sound of one of his vinyls playing in the background.
since that day when he disappeared into the bathroom and asked you to leave, there was something in your chest that wouldn't leave. a sense of dread that had found the perfect spot between your ribs to settle in, a sense that was now screaming so loudly in your ears that left no other choice but to take the spare key from underneath his rug to open the door.
if everything was okay, you had the excuse to say that you couldn't wait to see his cat.
but as you stepped into his apartment after unlocking the door, you realized that thinking of silly excuses was a waste of time.
dan was lying on the floor of his living room. his face was covered behind his arms, which were draped over his head and gave him even a more concerning look. his chest was still rising and falling underneath your gaze, but that didn't stop you from hurrying to his side and dropping to your knees.
“hey, hey…” you said softly, hands coming to try and move his arms away from his face so you could try and see if he was okay. “what happened? should i call an ambulance?”
“no, no, no.” he answered almost immediately, shaking his head as his arms moved away from his face so he could meet your gaze.
dan had a very particular kind of gaze. you could only describe it as heavy, but not the kind that weighed on other people, the kind that looked like it weighed on him.
and right now, it only looked worse. his pupils were dilated to the point that the blue in them had almost disappeared, his eyelids almost closing completely.
your hands moved to touch his face, the back of your hand pressing against his forehead to check his temperature. “then what do i do?” you asked, trying to fill the gaps to a treatment for a sickness that you didn't have the name for. “do you need water? an aspirin?” your voice came out softly, your frown becoming more pronounced.
“water,” you nodded, moving to grab one of the almost raggedy cushions in his couch to place it underneath his head before you could stand up and walk to the kitchen.
the water running was the only thing filling the apartment for a few seconds. your own gaze was fixed on the glass you were filling, your mind running through a thousand different scenarios, each of them making something different in your chest crack.
the only thing that could bring you back to reality was the feeling of water droplets falling on your fingers only to realize that the glass was overflowing. “shit.” the whisper came slowly as you turned off the tap and returned to the living room.
you knelt down at his level again, bringing the glass to his lips and studying him as he drank. just before you were about to open your lips again to try and question him once more, your eyes caught the sight of something.
you put down the glass on the coffee table, noticing something peaking from underneath the table that held his record player. without a word, your hand reached for it, taking the object to your view line.
a drug pipe.
you could hear the way that dan's breath caught in his chest, you could practically feel him tensing up as one of his hands reached to take the pipe from your hand like that would erase the memory.
“it's not-” he started saying, but you had already moved your hand out of his reach.
“this is what has you like this?” you asked, your words coming out sharper than intended. you didn't correct it, though.
“shit.” dan said, and you could see the way that trying to find the words through his brain in that state seemed to hurt him physically.
you didn't know if the weight of the pipe in your hand was heavier than the weight of seeing him like that, but you found yourself putting down the pipe on the coffee table to bring your hand to his face again.
you should've left. you were aware of that, this wasn't something that could be fixed with a few kind words and a conversation, it was a kind of problem that would eventually start to leak into your life and taint it, but your body stayed right where it was.
instead of moving up, your hand pressed against his forehead again, even when you already knew the reason behind his state. “bad trip?” you asked, voice lighter than before.
that managed to break his face in a smile and he nodded just once. “you could say that.”
surprisingly, you smiled as well before your hands left his face and fell on your lap instead. you leaned back, pressing your back against the couch. “how long?”
dan didn't reply immediately, he brought his arm to cover his eyes once more. “few years. tried rehab but… it didn't work.”
your answer was a soft hum, letting your hand wander to take his.
“I didn't want you to find out.” he continued before you could ask anything else, his tone a reflection of the guilt settling in his stomach. “I never… did it before our dates, if that matters.”
“it doesn't hurt to know.” you muttered, looking down at the hand you were holding.
the silence between you wasn't the comfortable, easy silence from your past dates. the knowledge of this part of his life was settled heavily between you, it was breaking the idea of what you had hoped for this.
and yet, the idea of getting up and leaving him in this situation didn't feel right with you. you were a fool to stay, and you knew it. you had the perfect level of commitment to end this, but your heart was practically forcing you to stay in your spot.
your eyes ranked over him, then they moved over the naked walls of his apartment, with the paint cracking and stains that were part of the infrastructure by now. his miniature kitchen, lacking in cutlery and food in his fridge.
and for some reason, you wanted to stay. you wished to stay.
you wished to fix the cracking paint in his apartment, to create memories dear enough that they'd start filling the walls in his place, that your presence would be the thing to turn this space from a place to live to a home.
⋆.˚𓇼 you'd be the spoon...... dip you in honey so I could be sticking to you !! ♡
pairing: ken x mermaid barbie!reader
WARNINGS ⊹ ࣪ ˖୨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ none this is the silliest thing I've ever written.
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ you were a danger to his job. a liability for the wellbeing of the habitants of barbieland! ken had never injured himself while doing beach until he heard your cheerful "hi ken!" coming from one of the rocks near the shore, causing him to drop his surfboard on his foot right in front of you.
but despite his very valid instinct to yell "ouch!" and drop to the floor to cradle his injured foot, he managed to put on what he considered a strength face and drag himself to the doctor barbie to make sure that no plastic had been broken that day.
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ the truth is that ken is as smitten as one can be. he'd linger near your rock all day, standing with his brightest surfboard, his chest puffed out while his free hand rested on his hip in what he considered his most amazing pose. he just wants to look cool for you in case you ever look his way. but when you do look his way, his whole system collapses, and the only thing he's capable of doing is blurting out a: "you're so cool" while you're just slapping water around with your tail.
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ whenever you went back to the sea, it was like the sun itself had hidden. he knows that you can't be around him all day because of your nature, but that doesn't mean that he's happy about it. he'll spend the rest of his day mopping around, dragging his feet on the sand and staring at the sea while letting out these loud, dramatic sighs. his day just got ruined. :(
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ you gave him a present one time. just once. you were out of the sea, resting on your usual rock when you caught the sight of ken shooting looks in your direction while trying to be discreet. "hi, ken!" you called out, your hand raising to wave at him.
his face broke in a smile just the next second. a smile that he tried to make less bright as he walked up to you at a pace that was too fast for the uninterested look he was trying to give. "hi, barbie." he replied, his voice sounding as if he was trying to drown out a thousand different kinds of high-picthed squeaks of victory.
there was something on your hand. that's what he noticed as soon as he stepped beside you. but his mind was cleared blank the second he saw your bright smile on your lips. he swore that nothing had ever shone so bright. the sun? what even was that? you had the force of a thousand suns on your smile, that's all he knew and all he cared about.
"I made you something yesterday," those words accompanied with that smile you were offering him practically killed him and sent him to a very glittery and very pink death bed.
then came your hand, extending towards him to hand him what you had no idea would be his next favorite object in the vast land of barbieland.
if he reached to take it, it was just pure inner force guiding his hand because he was sure that the gears in his head were stuck in place by the image of you.
what he was holding was a necklace made of pink seashells. or it might have been the secret to life because ken's life just got a hundred times better!!!!!
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ since that moment, that necklace never left his neck. never. he wore it like a badge, lifting his head a little to show it off whenever rival ken came around as if the pink seashells could make him look more baddass. in his mind it did!
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ so now he had to return the favor to you. somehow. he had no idea how. he was quite literally spending his whole beach shift trying to find a way to give you a present as well. it had to be something amazing, something no one had ever given you before.
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ that's how he ended up with a huge fish tank filled with water that he was trying to pull in a garden cart, groaning all the way as he dragged it to the beach until he stopped it right next to your rock, where you were watching him with a confused expression.
"ken?" you asked, sitting up in your rock as you saw his red face.
"barbie. I got you a ride!" ken said, pride practically pouring out of him as you processed his idea.
⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ he spent the rest of the day pulling that garden cart through the streets of barbieland so you could visit the other barbies, even as he groaned and gritted his teeth in his attempt to look strong for you and impress you.
at the end of the day, it was worth it. when he pulled you back to the beach, you sat on your rock for a few minutes before you leaned in and pressed a soft peck on his lips.
ken froze as you jumped back into the sea, letting out a soft giggle as if you hadn't just broken the doll standing on the shore.
BEST DAY EVER!!! that's the only thing that ran through ken's head, next to hearts and images of your face.
he'd pull your cart for the rest of his days if that's the reward he'd get.
2087
germansingergirl
gracieabrams
prguitarman
theartofmadeline