#hallorann

Hawaii, 1946.

The moment Dick stepped foot on that Hawaiian airstrip, your presence hit him like a brick to the face.

Sharp.

Heavy.

Loud.

It came without warning, an ache-inducing force that screwed his eyes shut and made his head ring—if he was being honest, a brick would've hurt less.

Not malevolent, but idle and painful in the same way shrill feedback whined in a microphone, or nails scraped on a chalkboard.

It made him violently flinch—to the rightful confusion of the airmen around him—its weight pressing heavy on his chest and shoulders almost as if someone was sitting right on top of his neck.

Knowing that would've made sense of why a grown man suddenly slapping his hands over his ears mid-march.

"Ay, c'mon, man! Keep it movin'!" one of them grumbled, brows furrowed as Dick froze, the two roughly colliding and creating a pile-up in line.

A chorus of other sharp complaints erupted from further back—some more savory than others—while a few rough shoves made their way forward.

At the noise, the man in front of him turned around, his expression one of confusion before he surveyed the situation.

Soldier.

Ears covered.

Eyes distant.

Frozen.

It didn't take a rocket scientist, especially for a fellow man in the service.

"Hey! Take it easy, alright?" he defended, brows furrowed as he shot a sharp glare at the men behind, resting a careful hand on Dick's shoulder as he softly ushered him forward. "C'mon, brother, you gotta keep movin'."

Dick allowed himself to be led, his eyes and ears slowly but surely beginning to refocus as his body acclimated to the intense sensation.

It wasn't easy, but gradually he lowered his hands, breath faintly regulating as the shrill whine became just barely bearable, allowing him to resume walking on his own.

But although the weight was lightened, it was nowhere near gone, and, in fact, made his every step feel about twenty pounds heavier.

"You alright there?" the good Samaritan asked, his smile one of comfort. "We lost you for a minute."

Coming back to himself, Dick shook his head in apology, sliding a hand over his face.

"Y-Yeah," he croaked. "M'sorry, I just—"

"Hey, don't worry about it. My brother's the same way," the man sighed, tapping an understanding pat on his back. "We all got diff'rent things to deal with now that the war's over."

Turning, he held out his hand to shake.

"Fred Johnson."

Dick took it.

"Dick Hallorann."

But from then on, as hard as he tried to listen to Fred as he chatted away, Dick couldn't help but allow his mind to travel back to the impression made by whatever he had been hit with upon arrival.

Never in his entire life had he ever felt a Shine so strong.

It was potent, broad like a thick fog seeping its way into forbidden space, touching, reaching.

Feeling.

While getting accustomed to the sensation might not have been pleasant, it wasn't long before the sensation itself became partly soothing and even a bit satisfying.

A distinctly warm hum he had never felt, a silvery soft voice he had never heard.

And it followed him no matter where he went on base.

The hangar.

The barracks.

The canteen.

Hell, the goddamn bathroom.

Every time he ventured further inward, the thicker the "fog" seemed to become.

It got so bad that when he was called into the medical wing for a classified check-up, he physically struggled to make it down the hall, almost as if an invisible barrier was in the way, stretching in an attempt to keep him from stepping further.

Dick wrestled with it, teeth locked tight as he did everything in his power to press forward, even as his boots began to slide on the linoleum floor.

If anyone saw him like this—a negro airman hunched over, struggling to move in an empty hallway—he was sure they would ship him off to the nearest asylum.

But, by a stroke of luck, he managed to grab on to a door handle, using it as leverage to hoist himself up before yanking it wide open.

And the moment he did, it felt as if the bubble had popped.

In an instant, all the feedback in his head was gone—the noise, the buzz, the weight—a kaleidoscope of light and happiness blooming in its place.

In an instant, the world turned Technicolor, vibrancy and saturation previously invisible to the human eye now bursting from every inch of the room, drowning the room in pure and potent life.

The plants perked higher.

The sky glowed bluer.

The air became clearer.

As a whole, the world seemed better.

But Dick didn't notice.

How could he?

How could he notice anything else in the room, anything else in the world, when the most beautiful woman he had ever seen was sitting right in front of him?

With the sunlight from the window hitting just right?

With hair falling so perfectly?

With big eyes staring back at him like two glittering gemstones of brown garnet?

This must be what people felt like when they were about to die... or maybe when they've just come to life...

He honestly wasn't too sure.

And he honestly didn't care.

For the first time in a long time, he felt whole—really and truly whole.

So whole that he didn't even realize he'd been standing there and staring at you like an idiot for five minutes straight.

"Mr. Hallorann?"you called for the umpteenth time, praying that this would be the one to get his attention. "Mr. Hallorann."

At the angelic sound of your voice, he snapped himself out of it, eyes refocusing to really look at you.

Your face was faintly flushed, cheeks puffed and lips upturned awkwardly.

It wasn't every day you felt a man fall in love with you in real time.

"Mr. Hallorann, if you're ready, Dr. Corcoran will see you now."

Your curt statement instantly sobered Dick, forcing him to remember himself, and where he was.

"O-Oh, yes," he quickly cleared his throat, straightening up his posture. "Yes, I am. Thank you, ma'am."

Avoiding all eye contact, he speed walked toward the doctor's office, physically restraining himself from looking back at you as he proceeded with what he came for.

...

You weren't a stranger to the perks that came with being an empath.

As a child, you used it to suss out when your aunt was upset—when it was right to ask her for something, when it was time to keep quiet, when your brother had just gotten a beating.

As a woman, you used it to survey your surroundings—what men to stay away from, what officers had bad tempers, what the other women on base felt about you.

As a nurse, you used it to assist your work—finding what hurt where, understanding a patient's pain, knowing exactly what to say to make it all feel better.

Did you have much control over your power?

No, not as much as you'd like—every emotion had a different intensity, and every person felt things differently, making it impossible to blanket everything.

Were there times when you felt your power was more trouble than it was worth?

Yes, but that came with the territory of super-powered compassion—growing up during the Great Depression, you had gotten more than your fair share of whoopings for giving money to the homeless when you were already quite poor yourself.

Were there times when you wished you'd never been cursed with this power at all?

Absolutely, but you'd dealt with it all your life, what else could you possibly know?

And whether you liked it or not, it had given you a very useful leg up in the world, especially for a woman and even more so for a black women.

Though, it was times like these... times when Dick Hallorann entered the room... that you began to rue the day you'd been born.

You'd felt him before you saw him, your eyes still trained on the Moscow Mule you'd been nursing as his familiar, swirling apparatus of tensity nudged its way into the bar.

You'd sensed him when he first arrived, too—you were mid-flu shot, the sudden and surprising buzz in the back of your head nearly startling you into maiming a Private.

And even during your meeting in the medical wing—with great difficulty given his overwhelming flood of wonder and adoration—you sensed him, and knew quite instantly that he was just like you.

At first, you were over the moon.

You had never met a person like you before, and thus your first instinct was to introduce yourself, ask him about it, pry free all the little details.

But it wasn't long before the words of your brother began to echo in your mind.

"Listen to me, (n/n)... you can never ever never tell anybody about what you can do."

"Never? ...But why?"

"'Cause it's different, and people wouldn't understand... they'd call you crazy."

"But you understand."

"That's 'cause I'm your brother. I'm s'posed to understand. But people like Aunt Zola... they'd hurt you, or lock you up somewhere."

"I don't wanna be locked up!"

"I don't want you locked up either! S'why I'm gonna make sure we stay okay. I'll get some money, we'll move away, and be able to do whatever we want. I promise."

"Reaaally?"

"Go on, check if m'lyin'."

Your little eyes screwed shut, cheeks puffing and brows furrowing as you concentrated, a smile stretching across your lips as his sincerity bled through clear as day.

"See! I promise, (n/n), once I save up, we'll be gone. And we'll travel the world together... just you and me."

There was safety in silence, a protection in privacy.

Certain things would have to remain a mystery if you wanted to maintain your way of life.

"'Scuse me," a familiar voice asked. "This seat taken?"

Shit.

You didn't have to look up to know who it was... but you did—only he had that distinct emotional mixture of curiosity, fear, and attraction.

And sure enough, there stood Mr. Hallorann, dressed in a nice, button-down shirt, tie loosened just enough to free up his neck.

Judging by his expression, he seemed to be having a hard time being near you, face stuck between pain and faint comfort.

Regardless, you sighed, taking a sip of your drink, "I s'pose not," and nodded to the stool next to you.

He took it, plopping himself down and ordering a beer before turning to you, wincing and squinting as if he had just glared into the sun.

Jesus, it was a goddamn miracle you hadn't been sensed by every person in Oahu...

Unable to take it anymore, his gaze sharpened, training on your face—much to your severe confusion and discomfort.

"Don't panic," his voice suddenly echoed, though his mouth failed to move. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Instantly, your eyes went saucer wide, and you nearly spit out your drink mid-sip, body already positioned to sprint out the joint as you shot to your feet.

But before you could, Dick firmly grabbed your hand, fingers interlocking.

"Hey, hey, hey, easy... please listen to me.  I promise, I'm not here to hurt you... I just wanna talk."

You hesitated, eyes frantically flicking over his face, power going into overdrive as you searched for even the slightest hint of insincerity.

But you found none.

So you sat back down.

"What is this...?" you asked, warily, still unsure as to how you both were talking without talking. "Some kinda trick?"

"Mhm-mhm. No tricks... just Shining."

Even more confused, you cocked a brow.

"Shining?"

He nodded.

"S'what my grandma used to call it... talkin' without speakin', seein' without seein'... some people can do it... people like you and me."

"I don't know what you're talkin' about. Whaddya mean seein' without seein'?"

"This thing we got... when I was little, it let me see things."

"What kinda things?"

"Dead ones."

You shook your head, an uncomfortable smile settling on your face as you attempted to stand once again.

"See, sir, you must have me confused. I've never seen no dead nothin' in my life, so if you'll please excuse me—"

"(n/n), please... I—"

"(n/n)?"

You sharply cocked your head, eyes wide at his audacity.

Dick winced.

He fucked up.

"Now let's get one thing straight here, Mr. Hallorann, there is only one man in this world that can call me (n/n) and he has been gone for a long time. So you would do well to keep that name out your goddamn mouth.

"You're right. You're right, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend. It just slipped."

"Like I'm about to do right out this place. Now, let me go."

"Wait, please, jus' listen for a moment. M'tryin' to help you—"

"With all due respect, sir, the day I need your help, is the day I drop dead."

"You're gonna be dead if you don't stop for a minute and listen."

You scoffed aloud, calling the attention of the bartender.

"Are you threatening me?!"

"(y/n), you're makin' a scene..."

"I don't care if I'm puttin' on a whole damn play! Just who the hell do you think you are?! And how the hell do you know my name?!"

"I'm a man that's tryna keep you from sendin' yourself to an early grave! And if you'd take a deep breath and relax for two damn seconds, I'd tell you!"

"Who do you think you're yellin' at?!"

"Jesus, woman, will you listen?!"

CRACK!

Without warning, his beer bottle burst, shards of brown glass and frothy liquid exploding all over the bar.

You both flinched in perfect sync, Dick because a rather large chunk of bottle had lodged itself into his hand, you because you felt it happen to him.

"Oh, my God," you gasped, eyes wide as blood began to steadily flow from the meat of his palm. "Oh, my God, Mr. Hallorann, I-I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me."

Swiftly, you took his hand in yours, snatching a handkerchief from your pocket and pressing it against the wound, positioning it around the piece of glass before turning to the barback.

"Sir, could we please get a first aid kit?"

"Right here, ma'am."

"N-Nah... s'okay," he winced, eyes squinting through the harsh and potent fluctuations of you washing over him, the pain in his hand paling in comparison to what you were inflicting on his mind.

It was really and truly a miracle no one had discovered you yet—he wouldn't be surprised if every island in Hawaii could sense you now.

The barback ducked under the counter and grabbed the first aid kit, plopping it on the counter.

And you got right to work.

Dick watched with awe and surprise as you patched him up as methodically as a well-oiled machine, removing the glass, disinfecting the wound—now that you had slowed the bleeding—dressing it with gauze.

You had even given him a few quick stitches with some topical anesthetic, finishing before he'd even knew you started.

"Jesus..." he marveled, staring down at his perfectly treated hand. "I ain't never seen someone get fixed up so fast."

His gaze flicked up to you.

"You Nurse Corps?"

With a faint smile, you shook your head, packing the supplies back into the kit.

"Wish I could've," you sighed, eyes falling. "Would've been good at it, too, what with my... abilities and all."

Confused, his brows furrowed.

"Whaddya mean?" he asked. "Seein' things? Dead things? That woulda helped you?"

A scoff left your lips before you could stop it, your body unable to stave off an eye roll.

"I told you, I don't see things," you reminded, pointedly. "This Shine, or whatever it is you call it... shows up different for me."

His eyes widened slightly.

"Different how?"

Wary, you looked around, before turning back to him.

"When I was little, this power it... it let me feel things. Things that I had no business feelin'."

"What things?"

You paused a moment, searching for an example.

"If I played outside with the other children, and one of 'em fell over and cut up their knee? My knee would hurt, too... or if someone was sad, I could look them right in the eyes and tell just how sad they were... and feel it just as they did."

You shook your head, letting out an empty chuckle.

"My Aunt Zola... who was an evil, evil woman... I could feel exactly how much she hated me, exactly how much she wanted me to wander out her door and never come back."

Dick's face fell, but you pressed on.

"I know it's not like seein' the dead... but as a little girl, it was scary in its own right. Imagine walkin' down the street bein' able to feel who was fixin' to hurt somebody. Feel the grief of a wife who'd just lost her husband. Feel the pain of a homeless man with a nasty case of frostbite."

Slowly, your shoulders sank.

"I was terrified. I didn't know how or why I could feel all these things, and it only got stronger the older I got. It was gettin' harder and harder to tell the difference between my feelin's and someone else's, and it wasn't long before I gave up goin' outside all together. To save myself the pain."

A faint smile graced your lips.

"'Til my brother realized what was goin' on. He wasn't like me, but when I explained what was happenin', he believed it. And despite not knowin' what to do, he somehow found a way to make it all better. Distracted me when the feelin' got too much."

Shutting the first aid kit, you glanced down at the bartop.

"And the moment he turned eighteen, he got us both up out of that old woman's house. Joined the Navy and got stationed all the way out here. Even landed me a job as a nurse on base. It was a change, for sure, given we were Jersey folk, but we had each other... 'Til... 'til that day."

Your gaze lifted to meet his, expression hollow, eyes distant.

"There was so much terror... so much fear... When Pearl Harbor was attacked, the whole island erupted in a pain I'd never felt before... a pain I could taste, a pain I could feel in my lungs... The burnin', the drownin', the bombin'... it was pure torture. A-And I couldn't take it... so-so I fell to pieces in the middle of a barrack. Crawled under a bed, curled up into a ball, and screamed for hours."

With a sigh, you twisted your drink.

"When they finally got me to come to... my brother was dead. I couldn't feel him anymore. The Harbor was destroyed and America was at war. And 'cause of my hysteria, I was barred from the Nurse Corps. Which was a blessing in disguise 'cause I can't even begin to imagine the hell I'd be put through dealin' with all them gunshot wounds... lost limbs... dyin' men..."

You chuckled humorlessly, eyes glassy as you looked down at yourself.

But Dick was quick to take your hand in his, touch feather-light and gentle as he held it firmly, forcing your attention toward him.

His expression was soft, a unique concoction of sincerity, sympathy, and understanding swirling around inside him.

"You're not alone," he stated, voice just as earnest as him. "If there's anybody that can understand what you been through... it's me. I know how scary this shit can be."

His face dropped slightly, warning.

"But I also know there are some people out there that are even scarier. And with all due respect, ma'am, you don't exactly make yourself hard to find."

Carefully, he rested his other hand over yours, which was still held tight in his palm.

"So, please... let me help you... just enough so you can hide yourself better. If you want nothin' to do wit' me after that, then I'm gone."

You paused a moment, eyes flicking over his face.

No lies.

No half-truths.

No ulterior motives.

Just honesty—with a rather strong hint of attraction.

No reason to say no.

With a soft grin, you rested your free hand over his, a faint burn singing your cheeks at his rather potent, internal reaction to your smile.

"(y/n) (n/n)," you introduced yourself, starting all over.

He perked up, unable to bite back his own smile as his eyes met yours.

"Dick Hallorann."

...

From then on, the two of you were inseparable.

Well... as inseparable as you could be while working on an army base.

At least once or twice a week he would stop by the infirmary when you were free—be it by some sorry excuse of a paper-cut or a sore throat—and give you lessons on how to better control your Shine.

How to block out certain things you didn't want to feel, certain things you didn't want to know about people.

How to conceal your metaphysical presence, keep from alerting everyone within a hundred mile radius where you were.

How to pinpoint and focus on certain individuals, rather than receiving everyone's emotions all at once.

You were a fast learner, and with every skill you mastered came less and less reason for him to come around.

But he still did.

Even more than before.

He'd sneak into the medical wing at the end of the day when you were cleaning, the two of you staying up at ungodly hours, talking, laughing, getting to know one another.

You'd see each other around the base, sharing stolen glances and secret smiles while he'd tell you a joke in your mind, just to hear your laugh as you passed by.

He'd bring you flowers and little things that reminded you of him, talk to you about things he had never told anyone before, not even his grandmother.

And on weekends, days when the base was quiet and the men were free to let loose, you both went out dancing, cutting a rug and having a ball at a local club with fellow colored airmen and their women.

In fact, it was at one of these clubs that the two of you shared your first kiss—he'd said you looked too pretty under the lights, and couldn't help himself; but when he tried to apologize, you grabbed him by the collar and kissed him back.

After that, it didn't take long before you both realized you were completely head over heels for one another.

You'd felt it from him since the day he first stumbled in, but he didn't need your Shine to know that you had fallen, too.

.

.

.

Hawaii, 1947.

"(y/n), baby..." Dick cleared his throat, swallowing thickly as the two of you started over a quaint, wooden bridge. "there's... there's somethin' I been meanin' to tell you."

It was illuminated by ten beautiful lamp-lights, their glow orange and hazy, painting the flora wrapped around the banisters and posts like a scene from a fairytale.

You turned to him with a smile, "Alright... what is it?"

As you looked up at him, your eyes sparkled in the starlight—all pretty and bright and doe-like—washing his body in another coat of nerves and filling him with the sudden urge to loosen his tie.

Jesus, how the hell was he going to get through this...

Sensing his unease, your smile fell, the two of you coming to a stop in the middle of the bridge.

Almost immediately, your Shine went to work.

Apprehension?

Worry?

Nervousness?

Dick was almost never nervous, and even if he was, what would he have to be nervous about right now?

Something was up.

"Hey," your brows furrowed, hand rising to cup his cheek. "what's the matter? Is everything alright?"

Instantly, he leaned into your touch, fingers softly clutching your wrist, holding you close.

He let out a shaky breath, as if steadying himself for something big while his gaze met yours, its usual warmth slightly dulled.

Your eyes widened slightly, a faint pang of fear striking your heart as they frantically flicked over his solemn face.

"Dick, you're scarin' me..."

"M'sorry... I don't meant to it's just that I..." he sighed, bracing for your reaction. "I been reassigned."

Your heart sank, all previous hints of joy now wiped clear off your face, "Reassigned... where?" 

"Detroit. I ship off tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh..."

All that happiness... all that bliss... gone as if it was never there.

He was leaving.

Just when you had found your love, your Dick... he was being taken away, and you had no say in the matter.

Glassy eyed, you turned away, lips rolling in an attempt to keep yourself together.

"I suppose I knew this day was coming... jus' didn't know when."

You could already see it.

Letters, frequent at first, before growing few and far between.

Memories, originally fresh and clear, slowly corroding away, crumbling and cracking under the weight of time.

Women, pretty ones, throwing themselves at him because—and let's be honest here—Dick was a handsome man, with a smile that could make any girl weak in the knees.

It wouldn't be long before you were tossed to the side, and eventually forgotten.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, there," Dick quickly caught, hands carefully cupping your face while his eyes met yours with a softness, honesty radiating from him. "Nobody's forgettin' nobody. That's not all of what I wanted to tell ya."

Your shoulders dropped, a deep groan of relief nearly slipping past your lips, "Oh."

"Jesus, baby, you think I could ever forget you?" his thumb slid over your cheek, almost offended by the notion.

His free arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him while he leaned in, playfully meeting your lips in a kiss.

And another.

And another.

And another.

"Don't think that's even possible."

You laughed, relishing in it for a moment before resting your hands on his chest.

"Alright, then, what's all of what you wanted to say? Don't keep me in suspense."

Jesus...

It was the moment of truth.

No more stalling.

With a deep breath, Dick squared his shoulders, clearing his throat and readying himself for whatever was to come.

"When I first saw you, baby... it was like takin' my first breath," he started, tone smooth and steady. "My whole world came to a stop... knocked me on my ass 'fore I even knew what to do with myself."

He chuckled, letting out a playful scoff as he took your hand in his and rested it over his heart.

"You had me seein' colors I ain't never knew existed. Was like a glow was surroundin' you... like you were some kinda angel."

You keened under his gaze, cheeks burning as you bashfully turned away.

"You ripped the rug right out from under me. And from that moment on, I knew that you was the woman I was gonna spend the rest of my life lovin'."

Instantly, your eyes went wide, completely taken aback.

"I knew it the second I walked through that door. Hell, I know you knew it, too. I was gone. And after that night at the bar, I couldn't keep myself from runnin' to you."

Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against yours.

"Everything goes quiet when I'm with you, baby, all the noise, all the bullshit... and even when we're apart, I can still feel you with me... feel your touch in my chest. I don't think there's a corner of this world far enough I could go to escape. And I thank God for it every day 'cause I don't want to."

He grinned, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You make me weak, (y/n)... and I love you for it."

He clutched your hand tighter, pupils dilated and vulnerable as pressed a soft kiss into your knuckles before slowly dropping to a knee, his gaze not leaving you for a moment.

Your free hand flew to your mouth, muffling a gasp as he carefully pulled a gold band from his pocket.

"Baby, I love you more than I ever loved anything. There ain't no other woman on this earth I'd rather spend my life with... so I want you to be my wi—"

"Yes!" you blurted, completely jumping the gun and tackling him in a hug, nearly taking him to the ground as you tossed your arms around his neck.

Dick instantly moved to cradle you, allowing the wind to be knocked out of his chest as he attempted to keep both you and the ring in his grasp.

Without hesitation, you locked your lips with his, his face in your hands as you poured every ounce of passion you could into the kiss.

"Wait, baby... baby... baby, you 'sposed to let me ask the question!" he chuckled between breathes, fighting between fervently kissing you back and getting his words out.

"I knew what you was gonna say," you grinned, cheekily. "But I 'spose if you want me to stop so you can ask proper..."

"Hey, I ain't say all that, now," he smirked, pulling you right back in.

He captured your lips once again, smiling into you as your body went slack in his grasp, allowing him to slip the simple gold band on your ring finger.

Oh, but this was only the beginning...

...

The very next morning, you and Dick set your plan in motion.

Servicemen on deployment couldn't take anybody but their wives and their children with them, no exceptions.

Which meant if you wanted to come along with him to Detroit, you both would have to be married with the papers to show for it before 1300.

So, after all the nurses banded together to pretty you up in a nice white dress, and the airmen gave Dick a fresh haircut in his best Service Blues, the two of you marched right into the local courthouse.

And at first they gave you quite a hard time.

White courthouse.

Colored couple.

And a quite ridiculous ask to have all the paperwork processed in a few hours.

But after calling in a few favors and a lot of convincing—most of which thanks to Dick's Shine—the two of you were officially married, with Fred as your witness. 

 And an hour later... you were on a military-sanctioned flight to Detroit, everything you ever owned in your suitcase, with the last five years of your life growing distant behind you.

.

.

.

Detroit, 1947.

"What you think, baby?" Dick asked as he shoved his hands in his pockets, a knowing smirk curling on his lips. "I done good?"

"Done good?" you scoffed, ecstatic, unable to tamp down your beaming smile. "This is perfect! Oh, my God, it's beautiful!"

Your new place, rented from the military, was a sight to behold—at least for you, a woman who had only ever lived in army bases and overcrowded tenements all her life.

While others with more privileged backgrounds would've seen a house with worn-down porch steps—with chipped paint on the banisters, with shudders that were off-center—you saw a home.

A future.

A space with four walls and a roof for you and your husband to lay your heads.

Who wouldn't be happy about that?

"And wait 'til you see the inside," his arm snaked around your lower back. "C'mon, lemme show you."

Without warning, his other arm hooked under your knees, swiftly scooping you up bridal-style.

You squealed, quickly grabbing onto his neck as he began to trudge forward, "Dick! What on earth—!"

"When you get married, you gotta carry your wife into her new house. If ya don't, the marriage is doomed to fail," he defended with a cheeky grin. "You ain't never heard of that?" 

"Can't say that I have," you giggled.

"Well, indulge me. I'm not takin' any chances."

Playfully, you rolled your eyes, tightening  your hold and allowing your husband to march up the porch steps, over the threshold, and into your new living room. 

That sweet sentence did something to you.

At his commitment, you felt a buttery, warm arousal sink into your gut, making your stomach flip and awakening something deep and low within your core.

"S'a little flat," Dick admitted as he looked around, eyes flicking from the military standard issue furniture to the rather bland color of the walls. "But I think a few pictures an' some flowers could spruce it up real nice."

You smiled as your eyes fell on Dick's Adam's Apple, watching as it bobbed in his throat while he talked, zeroing in on his neck an imagining your lipstick coating it in kisses.

Then they caught on something else.

The matching gold band wrapped around his ring finger.

A reminder of what you had now, of who you were now.

Dick's wife. His bride. His woman.

Without a word, you cupped his cheek, turning him to face you.

Confused, he offered you a questionable stare, worry creeping into his dark brown eyes.

But before he could even ask, you closed the gap, giving in to your arousal and the intoxicating scent of his cologne as you pressed your lips against his.

Dick hummed at the contact, pleasantly surprised.

He kissed you back, lowering your feet to the ground and pressing himself against you in an attempt to get closer—and improve his angle.

You sighed into him in satisfaction and approval as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist, his lips soft and warm, drawing you in with every passing second.

God, how you loved his lips... and his body...

Your hands indulged him, cascading down his toned forearms and feeling up his chest.

"Mmm," he moaned into the kiss, pulling away.

His body was vibrating with pure playfulness and admiration, if your Shine was anything to go off of.

"What's gotten into you tonight?" he chuckled. "Not that I'm complainin'."

You giggled at his dopey, pleased smirk.

Any excuse to touch you was excuse enough for him.

You shook your head, praying that he saw the need in your eyes.

"You... if I have anythin' to say about it," you answered, coyly.

As soon as the words were out, Dick's pupils dilated and the air grew thick with tension.

His hands left your waist to slide down your ass, grabbing it—much to your enjoyment.

"Is that so?" he teasingly asked, smiling at the way your breath hitched when he yanked you into him.

You loved it when he got all aggressive.

"Well, then..."

He leaned down to sweep your lips up in a kiss as heated and deep as the last one, inviting your lips and tongue to explore his.

His strong hands squeezed your ass again, massaging the soft globes over your dress, making you weak in the knees.

Thank God he was holding you up because you would've been a puddle on the floor with how jelly-like your knees began to feel.

You'd been kissing and touching this man for a little over a year, and yet every time you still melted like it was your first.

You loved him.

You adored him.

You wanted and needed him more than you needed air.

"Dick?" you softly whispered, pulling away from the kiss.

"Mmm-hmm," he hummed in acknowledgement, his lips moving to your neck.

You moaned at the contact, tossing your head back and letting yourself smile as pleasure rippled across your skin.

"You wanna know somethin'?" you asked, fingers lacing in his thick hair.

"What is it, baby?" he questioned, not missing a beat as he kissed down your throat, nuzzling his nose into your neck to breathe in your perfume.

You placed your hands on either side of his handsome face to gently pull him away, bringing him to a stop with hooded eyes and parted lips.

"We're married," you whispered, unable to stop the excitement and joy from pooling in your voice.

You watched Dick's eyes widened slightly, as if the realization just hit him, too—though, in actuality, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since the two of you left the courthouse.

His dark lips curled into a smile, flashing you his pearly whites.

"We are," he replied. "I'm your husband."

"And I'm your wife," you added, thumbs stroking his cheeks. "And do you know what your wife wants you to do tonight?"

Your husband's brown eyes darkened, reminding you of the richest Swiss chocolate.

"What does my wife want, baby?" he asked, his voice growing lower and more hushed.

He pressed his lips into one of your hands, kissing the inside of your palm.

The fire inside you flared hotter and brighter, desperate to be snuffed by him.

"I want you to take me... I want you to make me yours."

You pressed a soft yet needy kiss to his lips, gently sucking on his bottom lip and drawing a groan out of him.

"That's what I want," you softly sighed. "Will you please give it to me?"

It was an innate need.

A dull ache grown in your throbbing core that could only be soothed by your husband.

You needed him and him alone.

And you needed to be his.

At first, Dick could hardly believe the words, blinking in shock.

But that shock quickly vanished once he realized you were serious, leaving behind the hot, sizzling stare of arousal.

He chuckled, drawing his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Oh, you're gonna get it."

Suddenly, you were lifted off the ground and tossed over his shoulder, his feet already making their way toward the stairs.

"Ain't said nothin' but a word."

SMACK!

"Oh!" the word escaped you uncontrollably as Dick's big hand came down onto your ass.

The sharp strike made your pussy jump excitedly, especially when the skin began to sting.

When he charged into your shared bedroom, he slammed the door shut with his foot, not even sparing a glance back as he put you down and captured your lips once again, the two of you colliding in a flurry of teeth and tongue and hastily discarded clothes.

Eventually, the back of your legs hit the bed, sending you both crashing on top of it, but even with the interruption, it wasn't long before the two of your were as naked as the day you were born.

He sat up on his knees, giving you a front-row seat to the beauty between his thighs.

His pants and his briefs were gone, long kicked off, along with his shoes and his shirt, revealing his gorgeous body and dark happy trail.

You reached out to touch him, feel him, hold him, and he let you, relishing in the feeling of your warm hands on his skin, smirking at your whimpers.

"M'all yours, baby," he cooed, leaning down to position himself right in front of your core. "And this... is all mine."

Jesus Christ...

Before you knew it, Dick had his face in your pussy, his big hands grasping your thighs to pry them apart.

He licked and lapped at you like you were his last meal, his tongue quick yet precise, seeming to nail the perfect spot every time.

"Oh, God, yes!" you moaned, your voice reaching full volume as you writhed your hips against his magical mouth, his nose nudging against your clit. "God, yes, Dick, oh! You're so good!"

The brown-eyed stud stared at you intensely from his spot at the V of your legs, sucking gently.

With a wet pop, he pulled away, pride rolling off him in potent waves.

"Yeah? Your man makin' you feel good?" 

You frantically nodded, whining for more.

"Tell me all about it, baby," he pressed a hot kiss against your inner thigh. "Lemme know how good."

And he dove right back in, his tongue licking along your slit before dipping into your wet hole as his nose swiped against your clit like a credit card, pushing you past the point of ecstasy.

The sounds that escaped him were sloppy and juicy, his wet merging with your even wetter pussy.

It didn't take long for your orgasm to crest, making you feel like a balloon filled with too much air.

"D-Dick, I think I'm gonna... think I'm gonna cum!" you warned, your words laced with moans and gasps. 

He moaned right back into your pussy, still eating away.

"Mmm-hmm," he encouraged, desperate to make you feel good. "Cum. Cum for me, baby."

Overtaken by his voice and his touch, you let your orgasm wash over you, drawing moans that would embarrass any woman were she not drunk on her husband's tongue.

The shivers that took hold of your body were intense, making you thrash and buck against Dick's mouth as he cleaned you up.

But you couldn't focus on them for long.

Not when your husband was standing between your legs and looking down at you like that, eyes hooded and lips shining in your juices.

"I need to fuck you, baby," he said, voice hushed and low.

He cupped your face in a single hand, softly running his thumb over your cheek.

"Yes," you whispered, the word having just as much conviction as when you said I do. "I need you, Dick... please."

Dick visibly shivered, as if something had taken over him at your response.

And after giving you a deep and passionate kiss, he wrapped his hand around his cock and fed it into your pussy, inch by inch, taking it slow.

You gasped, eyes growing wide at the stretch of his length.

You had never taken him before, the sensation a bit more intense than you anticipated.

Without a condom, you could feel all of him—every vein, ridge, and soft patch of skin stretched around his shaft.

Dick's face was as beautiful as the starry night in the nearby window, his expression twisted in pleasure as he rocked his hips into you.

"God, baby, you feel so good," he groaned, bottom lips catching between his teeth. "N-Need... ah, fuck! Been needin' you like this for so long."

"M-Me, too!" you gasped, grasping his shoulders for dear life as his hips bumped into you, sending tendrils of pleasure into your clit. "God, give it to me, baby, please!"

A groan of lost restraint escaped Dick as he bent down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss as he rocked a little faster, a little deeper, filling you with more of his cock every passing second.

He fucked you into the mattress, perching your leg on his shoulder so he could settle even deeper, nearly mounting.

Oh, he gave it all to you.

He gave it to you all night, as much as you wanted.

As much as you could take.

He flipped you over and fucked you from the back, his thrusts rough and manic, his hands gripping your ass so tight you were sure it would leave bruises.

He fucked you up against a wall, your body flush against his, trapped between the two as he babbled about how "fuckin' good" your pussy was and "oh, fuck yes, yes" as he slammed balls deep into you.

He fucked you on the floor, your body bouncing on top of him as his hips thrusted up to meet yours, his hands grasping and massaging your tits as his thick cock sank into your wet folds and velvety walls again and again.

Each thrust was agonizing, taking you to a place of euphoria so intense it was almost painful.

"Ah, ah, oh, fuck! Yes! Yes!"

You couldn't muster any words longer than that.

"Fuck, look at you, baby," Dick grunted, staring up at you as you took his big cock. "Lookin' so goddamn beautiful... so perfect... think I'm 'bout to burst..."

Sure, he had gone completely insane, utterly drunk on you and fucking like he'd never be able to again.

But what was robbing your ability to speak was the all-encompassing, overwhelming overflow of love exuding from his every pore.

It oozed everywhere, flooding your every sense and drowning you in nothing but his potent and powerful devotion.

You couldn't even block it out, the love so supreme and possessed that it was overloading your Shine, bringing you to tears.

"Y-You... love me!" you cried, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as your voice reached above the loud bed-springs and his rigorous fucking. "God, Dick... you love me so much!"

Instantly, Dick flipped you over, laying you on your back and sinking deeper.

"You feel me, baby?" he smiled in your ear. "Tell me how much you feel me. Tell me how much I love my wife."

It was so hard to do while the man was knocking your brains out your skull, but you found the willpower to do it anyway.

"So much!" you sobbed, overcome with the intensity and emotion as he wrapped his arms around you, locking you against him. "I love you so much, Dick! Need you s'much!"

"Yeah?" he teasingly asked, pressing a wet kiss into your collarbone. "Y'need me, baby girl? Y'love me?"

He adjusted his grip on you again, damn near folding you in half.

"Get ready, baby, 'cause you 'bouta get it all..."

You thought you were getting fucked before?

He shifted into a entirely different being as he rutted into you like a machine, hips pistoning, cock throbbing, pulsing, until finally, finally...

"Oh, fuck!" he bellowed, his voice ricocheting off the walls of your bedroom as he filled you to the brim with all of him.

You gasped as his spunk filled you, spilling into your pussy, bringing with it a warm, gushing sensation that triggered your own orgasm.

"Shit!" he groaned, encouraging you with his quick thrusts. "Cum with me, baby! Fuckin' give it to me!"

You had no choice but to.

With your eyes in the back of your head and your legs in the air, you came all over him.

His thrusts slowed to deep rocks of his hips as he fucked his cum into you, making sure none of it spilled until it was ready to pull out.

Spent.

Filled.

Probably knocked up.

All things you realized you were as you laid on the bed, weakly mewling as Dick continued to stroke.

When he was finally done, he slowly pulled out, moaning with you at the loss of contact and your pussy gushed your mixed release.

"Don't move, baby," he cooed. "Lemme clean you up."

Mustering some strength, he got up and strode into the bathroom, grabbing a damp washcloth before returning to wipe up the mess you both made, paying close attention to your puffy lips and clit.

When he finally finished, he gently moved himself under your exhausted form and laid down with you on his chest, the both of you sweaty and beat but absolutely satisfied.

You rested a hand over his heart, the hand that housed your wedding band, the simple gold almost glowing in the moonlight.

Moonlight shined in the brown eyes that stared down at you in utter adoration, holding promises of endless love and so much more.

"I love you, baby," he murmured into your hair, pressing a soft and sincere kiss on the top of your head as his arms snaked tightly and protectively around you.

You smiled, pressing a kiss on his chest before resting your hand on top of it.

"I love you, too, honey."

.

.