#// and it's gotten progressively more complicated from there

[gentlemanthiief]

what if i

persona!akira au

[cutemeat]

@nightcrawlerzincorporated Exactly the point i was making with this post thank u 🥹💛

Season 6 // Season 16

[serpentandlily]

Untouchable V - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst, suggestive situations

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part V

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Azriel couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Not when she was wearing those leathers that clung to her frame, highlighting her body from head to toe. Not when she had her wings out, her beautiful, magnificent wings. 

She was so effortlessly stunning. The most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. He knew no one would ever come close. No one had ever quite captured his attention like she had. His own personal forbidden fruit.

Every night he thought of her as he touched himself, of what it might feel like to have her, to claim her as his. The noises he would draw out of her. How beautiful she would look with a flushed face and swollen lips. 

And every morning he thought of what it might be like to wake up with her in his arms, for her beautiful smile to be the first thing he saw every day. He wanted that more than anything, more than even sex. He just wanted her.

A large hand clamping down on his shoulder jostled him from his thoughts. Cassian stood next to him, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop now,” he murmured under his breath. “Rhys looks seconds away from murdering you.” 

Azriel’s eyes flashed towards his High Lord, now noticing the piercing stare directed his way. Fuck. Had he been so obvious? He needed to get a hold of himself. It had gotten harder and harder to ignore his feelings for Rhys’s sister after she had confessed to feeling the same way about him. 

His eyes went back to watching the female Illyrians go through their training exercises. That's what they were here for after all. To check on their progress. Not to ogle at the High Lord's sister in her tight, enticing leathers. 

"He acts like her godsdamn father," Azriel hissed, unable to stop himself. 

Cassian gave him a troubling look. "He practically is, Az. He had to raise her himself since she was thirteen."

"And?" Azriel huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "She's not thirteen anymore."

"Yeah, I can tell you've noticed," Cassian bit back, crossing his own arms as he stared at his friend. Azriel felt like rolling his eyes. It was enough dealing with Rhys and his overprotective nature. He didn't need Cassian to join. 

"Oh, fuck off. I'm just pointing out how ridiculous he is when it comes to her. She's nearly three-hundred. Do you remember all the shit we got up to at that age?" 

"No, I won't fuck off," Cassian snarled, unusually serious for once. "You're walking a very fine line, brother. It doesn't matter how old she is. He will always see her as that thirteen year old girl he found covered in their own mother's blood in the snow.”

“I was there too you know,” Azriel muttered, darkly. “I was the one that found them, the one that scared off Tamlin’s father and brothers.”

Cassian’s eyes softened. “I know, Az. I know. And I know how much Rhys thanks the Mother every day for that. But we made a promise to him, remember?”

Azriel scoffed. Of course he remembered. That day would always haunt him. He hadn’t even known at the time what exactly he had been giving up. 

“What are you trying to insinuate, Cass?” He glared at his brother. He could feel his shadows getting riled up behind him—a reflection of his mood. 

“I know you, Az. And I know that look on your face. You want to get your dick wet—go find some other female to stick it in,” Cassian murmured under his breath. “Stay away from Rhys’s sister. He might love you like a brother but he won’t hesitate to rip your throat out if you touch her, if you hurt her in some way.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Azriel replied, his face slipping back into a cold mask, his voice flat as he stared down Cassian. 

But Cassian only shook his head at him, patted him on the shoulder, and walked away, muttering a small prayer to the Mother under his breath. 

Azriel went back to observing the Illyrian females. If Rhys was so fucking concerned about him messing with his sister, than he could excuse him from his duty as her guard. 

Besides, none of it mattered. As long as that tattoo was on his body, it didn’t matter how he felt. He couldn’t touch her. And she would never be his. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Ever since that night in the study, you and Azriel had kept your interactions to the bare minimum. He was still your personal guard, which meant you couldn’t just stop seeing or talking to him while doing business in Hewn City. But the wound was still fresh, your heart was still aching, so it hurt just to be around him.

You had put off answering the Prince in hopes that Azriel would start making sense, would give up on whatever weird notion he had in his mind that he couldn’t act on his feelings for you. But he had offered you no more answers to the millions of questions you had. Had refused to even discuss it any further, so there was nothing you could do but move on. 

Which is why you and the majority of your family were in Vallahan. Rhys and Prince Cedric had exchanged some correspondence back and forth and while you weren’t accepting any marriage proposals any time soon, you weren’t completely opposed to getting to know Cedric more. 

So the Prince had invited you, your brother and a few of his courtiers to visit King’s Cross in Vallahan as his esteemed guests. Rhysand had brought along Feyre, of course, Azriel, Cassian and Nesta. Since Mor was already familiar with the faeries here, she had stayed back with Amren to run the Night Court while you guys were away.

Elain has also stayed back to watch over baby Nyx in Velaris with Nuala and Cerridwen. Some of the Valkyries had agreed to act as guards for the River House as well, to ease Rhys and Feyre’s minds. It was the first time they were leaving Nyx for longer than a day. But they didn’t want to bring him into foreign territory—especially not one across the seas. 

You had just finished getting ready for the first formal dinner here, deciding on wearing something from the Night Court instead of something in Vallahan fashion. You didn’t want the Prince getting any ideas that you had made up your mind.

The dress you put on was a dark, midnight blue. It fell to the floor, two slits on either side to show off your legs. The top was cut into a deep v and ended right below your breasts, connected to the skirt with leather straps that criss-crossed over your stomach. 

You left your hair down and opted for minimal makeup. Just the usual kohl around your eyes and a dark red lip oil. You looked at yourself one more time before stepping out of your room and into the quiet corridor. 

Azriel was already waiting for you, leaning against the wall opposite in his black Illyrian leathers. His expression was dark, his hair tousled with some pieces falling on his forehead. He looked up at you as your door closed shut behind you. You watched his eyes trail over your form, bringing some color to your cheeks.

You started making your way towards the dining chambers, Azriel following a pace behind you as your official guardian. You felt his shadows caress your thighs, cascade down to your feet. You clenched your fists in frustration.

“You cannot deny me and still try to have some claim over me,” you hissed under your breath. “Take your shadows back, Az.”

“I am your guard.” You heard his dark voice from behind you. “And they are simply helping me. It is for your protection, Princess.”

You whirled around at him with a glare. “That’s bullshit and you know it!” 

He stared at you with that cold, unfeeling face that only riled you up further. “You can think what you want, Princess. But I am only doing my job.”

You stalked towards him, pushing him back with a finger to his chest. “Send them away. Now.”

“No.”

You released a noise of frustration and pushed him against the wall. “I mean it, Azriel. I’m done playing your stupid games. Call your shadows off.”

“You’ve never had a problem with them before. Why now?” He stared down at you, unflinching. He flipped you so it was you pressed against the wall now. “It is for your safety so you will deal with it.”

“I hate you,” you growled, pounding a fist against his chest weakly. It was one of the biggest lies to ever come from your mouth but Gods, you were just so frustrated. 

Azriel leaned down, his hair brushing against your temple. “Hate me all you want, Princess. But if being your guard is the only way to keep you close to me, then I will be the best damn guard in all of Prythian so your brother has no choice but to let me stay near you. The shadows stay.” 

“You won’t have me but you won’t let me go,” you whimpered. “How is that fair, Azriel? You said you don’t want to hurt me but this…this is far worse than you rejecting me and moving on.”

“Because I can’t stay away from you,” he hissed back. “I can’t stay away from you, Princess, no matter how hard I try.” 

Your heart was pounding in your chest and you opened your mouth to shout at him, to scream and cry and demand he leave you alone but another voice cut you off.

“What’s going on over here?” 

You both froze as your brother’s voice traveled down the corridor. You turned your head to see him standing at the end of the hallway next to Feyre, his arms crossed as he stared intently at Azriel, who immediately took a step away from you. 

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the weird tension between the two males. “My earring got caught in my hair,” you lied. “Azriel was helping me untangle it.” 

Rhysand didn’t look convinced but he finally looked at you. His face softened and he held out his free arm, the one not linked with his mate. “Come, little dove, walk with me.” 

You scurried past Azriel, not sparing him a glance, and took your brother’s arm, letting him escort you to dinner.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You tried to suppress your yawn but it had been another hour of being dragged around the castle by the Prince and you were so tired. He seemed happy to give you a tour, a tour you swore you had already taken the first time you were here, so you obliged him. But now you just wanted to go back to your chambers, take a nice warm bath, and go to sleep. 

Your family departed from Vallahan two days ago, after spending three days here. You had extended your trip to the end of the week by the Prince’s request. Part of you did it to spite Azriel who seemed to detest Cedric and the other, miniscule part of you was genuinely curious about the Prince. But he was turning out to be a total bore. Nice, but dull. He lacked the sort of dry wit you liked in others. He was also extremely soft—too soft. As if he had never had to fight for anything in his life. 

“Are you tired, Princess?” Cedric asked, noting your yawn. Before you could even answer the question yourself, he continued. “I only have one last area to show you. I promise I saved the best for last.”

You gave him a half-hearted smile. “Okay, lead the way.”

He extended his arm out to you and you placed your hand in the crevices of his elbow. He led you out of the library he had just been showing you back into the hallway. Azriel trailed behind you, along with one of the Prince’s personal guards, Lasos. Cedric had insisted that the pair of you didn’t need guards whilst together, but Azriel had swiftly rejected that notion and Lasos had joined after realizing that Azriel wasn’t going to let you two be alone. 

You didn’t care. If Azriel wanted to be a brooding asshole, then you would let him. You weren’t forcing him to watch Cedric court you, he was doing it all on his own. And maybe you had acted a little extra flirty with the Prince just to rub it in Azriel’s face. If he didn’t want you as his own, then he would have to watch you be with another. 

“This is the Queen’s quarters,” Cedric announced as he came to a stop in front of two large double doors. “This is where my future wife would live.”

“The Queen lives separate from the King?” you questioned as he pushed the doors open, revealing a lavish sitting area. The walls and floor were made of white marble like the rest of the castle, gold embellishments decorating the interior. 

“If she chooses to,” Cedric smiled. “This is simply a space for her to have all to her own, to use for whatever she wishes. There is a similar area in the main castle where my parents live. My mother uses it as a music room.” 

“That’s lovely,” you replied with a bow of your head. 

Cedric went to close the doors before either guard could enter, but Azriel quickly stuck a hand out and stopped him with a glare. “It is improper to be behind closed doors with an unwed female,” he growled.

You wanted to roll your eyes. Since when the hell did the Night Court ever care about that? Cedric’s eyebrows rose but he gave the shadowsinger a nod. “Of course, my apologies.”

You turned your back to them, not interested in watching them have another one of their dick measuring contests. It had been like that the whole week so far. Instead you walked towards the window on the other side of the room that overlooked the gardens. 

You nearly jumped in fright as two hands ghosted over your waist and a sudden presence was behind you. It wasn’t the first time the Prince had touched you, but it certainly was the most intimate. You had occasionally brushed hands, shared a kiss on the cheek, perhaps walked too close together, and shared some charged looks in the past couple days. 

“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?” Cedric asked, leaning down to whisper in your ear. 

You blushed a bit at his closeness, swallowing before answering him. “Yes, the gardens here are gorgeous.” 

“Not quite as beautiful as you, though,” Cedric whispered, moving your hair to one shoulder. Your eyes widened as he pressed a soft kiss against your neck. And then another. His lips brushed against your ear and you gasped. “Never quite as beautiful as you, Princess.”

“Prince Cedric,” you mumbled. “We are not alone.”

He twisted you in his arms until you were facing him, his bright blue eyes sparkling. “Lasos is my most trusted guard. I can assure you he won’t speak a word of our transgressions.” 

You peaked at the male in question from over Cedric’s shoulder. Lasos had already turned around, his back facing the two of you. But then you looked at Azriel to see him intently staring at you, anger in his eyes. You were reminded of a time like this only a few weeks ago. Except it had been you watching Azriel and Elain.

So when Cedric asked, “What about your guard? Do you trust him to keep your secrets?” You smiled as you continued to stare at Azriel, whose anger was morphing into rage and whispered back, “Yes.” 

And let the Prince crash his lips against yours. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You hummed to yourself as you brushed your hair, sitting at the vanity in your guest room. You were surprisingly feeling a bit more light after your time with the Vallahan Prince. You two hadn’t gone any further than kissing, especially considering you were never truly alone, but it felt nice to be wanted by someone. You were a bit sad that your time here was coming to an end. 

Soon you’d be back home. Back to reality. 

You set down the brush and stared at your reflection in the mirror with a sigh. You weren’t sure what you were going to do if Azriel started up again with Elain. You had no idea if what he had told you was true because everything he had said to you that night had only confused you. In the few weeks since then, you hadn’t noticed them together but you didn’t exactly go looking for them—not wanting to see something that would further hurt you. 

He still made no sense to you. You had seen the way he looked at you, watched you, like a starved male. Seen the anger on his face every time the Prince so much as brushed his hand against yours. His behavior was just so confusing. 

You would be returning to the Night Court tomorrow after sharing one last meal with the Prince and his courtiers. You wondered if he would ask you then, about his marriage proposal. Neither of you had brought it up in the time you had been here but you hadn’t forgotten. But you didn’t want a marriage that felt like a contract. You wanted to marry someone you loved.

And you did love someone…just not the Prince. But perhaps you could.

Your eyes focused on the mirror in front of you as you noticed darkness forming in the corner of the room behind you…no, not darkness. Those were shadows. They whirled in a frenzy, spreading into your room.

And then there was Azriel, stepping out from them. His face was cut from stone, his hazel eyes darkened, his hair in disarray. But there was something different about him now…a heavy resolve in his eyes. You gasped and stood, spinning around to face him.

“Azriel, what are you doing here?” you breathed out.

He said nothing as he stormed towards you, his wings spread out behind him. Gods, he looked like a fallen angel. A creature of the night. So beautiful, but so lethal. You braced yourself against the vanity behind you. 

“Has Prince Cedric won over your heart then?” he asked, his voice as dark as his shadows. He didn’t stop until he stood right before you, so close you had to angle your head back to look at him. 

“What?” You were so confused. What was he doing in your room? Why was he asking about Cedric?

“Has the Prince won your heart, y/n?” He asked again. “It’s a simple question.”

Your eyes narrowed at his tone. “Don’t come barging into my room and act like an asshole. I don’t see why you’re so concerned about me and Cedric. It’s none of your business.”

“It is my business,” he growled. “As your guard—”

“Oh please,” you snapped. “Me and you both know you’re not asking me about this because you’re my guard.” 

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “Then as your friend—”

“Is that what we are, Azriel? Friends?” You scoffed. “I don’t think you want to be my friend.”

“Just answer the godsdamn question,” he snarled, ignoring your remark. “And for fuck’s sake, stop letting these males put their godsdamn hands all over you.” 

“No,” you bit back, poking him in the chest. “This shit needs to stop. You know how I feel about you. You know and you’re the one who says we can’t be together. So stop acting like you have some claim to me, Azriel.”

“Do you think I’m happy about that?” Azriel growled. “Do you think I’m thrilled to fucking want you all the time and not be able to have you, to claim you as mine?”

A few frustrated tears escaped down your cheeks. “I offered myself to you. I was ready to give you everything, Azriel. My heart, my body, my mind. And you are the one who rejected me.”

Azriel grabbed the sides of your face and rested his forehead against yours. He was breathing heavily. “You make this so hard when you say shit like that. Please, tell me you hate me again. Tell me you don’t want me.”

“I-I can’t,” you cried out. “Gods, I wish I didn’t. I wish I didn’t feel anything for you. Why are you doing this to me, Azriel? Why?”

His eyes shut, his forehead still resting against yours. “Because…Because you’re Rhys’s sister. I can’t…We can’t cross that line, Princess. He’ll kill me.” 

“I am not just Rhys’s sister,” you argued. “I am my own person, with my own wants, with my own dreams. That is a bullshit excuse, Azriel. Rhys will understand. I will make him.”

“You don’t understand,” he sighed. But he stepped even closer, pressing his body against yours, pinning you to the vanity behind you. His leathers were rough against your silk nightgown, and your body sang at his touch. 

“No, I don’t,” you breathed out, closing your own eyes. His scent was so intoxicating; his presence so overwhelming. You couldn’t think this close to him. Couldn’t focus on anything but your desperate need for him. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me, Azriel. To us. You said you never wanted to hurt me but can’t you see how much you are by doing this? By telling me you want me as much as I want you but denying us the chance to be together? Can’t you see how much it hurts me.”

“I don’t care anymore, Princess. I don’t care if it hurts you as much as it hurts me,” Azriel growled. “I’m done trying to be a better male. I can’t watch you be with other males, can’t watch them put their filthy hands all over you. Not when I want you as my own.” 

Your eyes blinked open, staring into the hazel ones already watching you. You could see the pain behind his own eyes, the longing, the want. They were a mirror to your own.

“So have me,” you whispered. 

You saw the break in his resolve just a second before Azriel crashed his lips into yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and you were stunned but as soon as you realized what was happening, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He moaned against your mouth, one of his hands sliding up the back of your neck into your hair as he deepened the kiss, so full of passion, so full of love. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, fire lit its course through your veins. Kissing Azriel was everything you had dreamed of and more. It felt perfect…it felt right. Like everything in the world had disappeared and it was just you and him. 

His hard arousal pressed into your stomach and you gasped at the feeling. He used it as an opportunity to flick his tongue into your mouth, tasting you, with a groan. His other hand slid down to your waist and to the backside of your thigh. He lifted you with one arm as if you weighed nothing and placed you on the edge of your vanity. The bottles of lip oils, the pots of kohl, all clattered to the floor as it shook under you at his ferocity. 

His hand slid back to your waist, yanking you closer to him as he pressed himself between your legs. You moaned into his kiss, electricity licking your skin. Azriel let out a growl at the noise you made, his lips pulling away to begin tracing kisses along your jaw, down your neck. You tossed your head to the side, granting him more access as one of your hands slipped into his hair.

His nose grazed the column of your neck as he took a deep inhale, soaking in the sweet smell of you. “Say it again. Tell me you want this.”

“I want this, Azriel,” you breathed out, panting. “I want you. Have me. I’m yours.” 

He let out a low growl at your words and sank his teeth into your neck, at the spot of your pulse pounding. You gasped and his lips were on yours again. He let out an almost pained grunt, slipping his hand up your nightgown to grip the soft skin of your thigh. His hard length pressed against your clothed core and sent another wave of electricity up your body. 

He groaned again, his grip on you tightening. His fingers were digging into your skin, his other fisting your hair so tightly it caused a small whimper to leave your lips. The pain and pleasure mixed together to create a feeling you wished would never end. But then Azriel grunted again, his hold on you so forceful, you couldn’t help but wince. 

He pulled away from you with a pained groan. Your eyes shot open to see the male before you grimacing in pain. Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Azriel…Azriel, what’s wrong?”

His teeth clenched, the veins in his arms protruding like he was trying to fight against something. You slid off the vanity to stand, running a soothing hand down his arm. That only seemed to make things worse and he crumbled to the floor with another grunt of pain. His hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs as he pressed his forehead against them, cursing. 

“Fuck,” he groaned in pain.

You knelt on the floor in front of him, grabbing his face with your hands. “Azriel, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” 

His hands covered your own and gently pried them off his face. 

“This…is…why,” he managed to ground out through gritted teeth, “why we can’t do this.” 

Your arms hung limp at your sides. “Azriel, I don’t understand. What’s happening?” 

He let out a painful sigh and sat back on his haunches, lifting his shirt up. You stared at him in confusion before your eyes fell to his bare chest, tracing over the Illyrian tattoos that curled around until you noticed another, smaller tattoo. Not an Illyrian one. But a…bargain tattoo?

“Azriel? Is that a bargain tattoo?” you breathed out, bewildered. He nodded in answer. “I don’t get it. Why are you showing me that?”

“Your brother,” he grunted out.

“My brother what?” Your eyes flickered back and forth between his own, trying to understand. 

“He forced us…”

He trailed off and your eyes darkened. “Forced you to what?” 

“Me and Cassian,” he finally said, hanging his head down. “Years after, when you…when you finally matured, I think your brother saw the change in how I looked at you. I think he grew suspicious of my feelings towards you…and he didn’t like that, y/n. You were still just a kid to him…you’ll always be, Princess. And he made me and Cassian promise him that we would never touch you in that way, that anytime we touched you with less than innocent intentions, we would feel the pain of a thousand blades striking down on us.”

Your mouth dropped open, your eyes falling back to the tattoo on the side of his hip. At the Illyrian wings with a blade running down the center of them. Your brother had…What the fuck had your brother done?

“Cassian agreed without any hesitation, Princess,” Azriel continued, his voice full of sadness and regret. “And I knew if I didn’t, your brother’s suspicions would prove true. I knew he’d kick me to the curb, toss me out, if I didn’t. And I thought it was just a crush, something I could get over. So I agreed. But Gods, y/n, I’ve regretted that day ever since. Because it wasn’t just a crush. My feelings for you never went away. Which is why I tried to hide them in others.”

“I-I…” you choked out, unable to form words. This was the last thing you had expected. You knew your brother was protective over you…but to make his friends form an official bargain with him. “So you can’t touch me without…without…”

“Without feeling one of the worst pains I’ve ever known. He made you untouchable, y/n. To us. To me and Cass. It's why I tried to push you away, tried to make you think I wanted others. I couldn’t give you what you wanted, what I wanted.”

“There has to be a way to undo this, Az,” you whispered. “Maybe I can convince my brother to release you from it—”

“It doesn’t work like that, Princess, you know it doesn’t,” Azriel sighed. “Besides, he would never agree. If he knew I tried to touch you like I have tonight, he would sooner stick a dagger through my heart than ever allow you to be with me.”

“I will make him see how wrong he was for doing this, Azriel,” you said with conviction. “He was probably still traumatized by what happened to me…by what those males did to me. We just need to tell him how much we want to be together, how much—”

“It wouldn’t matter, y/n, don’t you see? Your brother might be the most powerful High Lord in Prythian, but even he cannot break bargain bonds. Even The King of Hybern needed to use the cauldron to do that.”

“I won’t accept this! I can’t, Azriel. Why should we have to! We want to be together and it's not fair that we can’t!” 

“I know, Princess, I know,” Azriel grimaced. “And I’m so sorry for making that promise. I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. I should’ve left you alone. I shouldn’t have ever—”

“No, don’t say it. I refuse to believe this is it. I refuse to believe we just have to live always wanting each other and never having it. There has to be another way.” 

“He did put one condition on it, one way to break the bargain. But…”

“But what? What is it?”

Azriel looked up at you, his hazel eyes filled with such longing it made your heart ache. “If we were mates…if the mating bond ever snapped between us, or between you and Cassian, the bargain would be completed.” 

But nearly three hundred years had gone by since then and…and a mating bond had never snapped between you and Azriel. 

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

a/n: omgggg I hope this chapter didn't disappoint! But now we all know the bargain Az made with Rhys soooo it's gonna be fun to see how this all pans out ;) are they mates? or will we have to find some sneakyyyy way to be together? who knowssss ;)

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*if you asked to be tagged but don't see your username, tumblr probably won't let me add it for some dumb reason :((

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You

Azriel x Third-oldest-archeron-sibling!reader

a/n: I was in the mood for a writing a heated argument that turns into an even hotter make-out session, but then it got slightly depressing so…

warning: slight angst but not much because I can’t take that emotionally :’)

word count: 3,888

-Part 2[*]-

“How was she today?”

You fight the urge to clench your jaw. The harsh snapping of your book is the limit to how far you’ll allow the leash on your anger to slip. Jealousy? Frustration? Whatever complicated nonsense he’s gotten you tangled up in.

“No hello? What about a how are you today?” You ask tersely. So much for keeping your emotions on a tight leash. His brow narrows a little—you don’t usually bubble over when he asks how your older sister is doing. “You weren’t practically bed-ridden for months,” he replies slowly, gauging your response carefully.

Instantly, guilt weighs in the pit of your stomach, and you look away quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you soothe hastily. Gods, why did you say that to him? You’re trying to gain his favour, not make him think you’re an ungrateful, self-absorbed sister. “She was fine. We did some baking—well, Elain did some baking, I was reading something. It’s a new book, actually! Because I finished the last one, which was actually pretty good, but this one I think is set in the last war and…” you trail off when you notice the patient smile he’s giving you.

Right. He’s not interested in what book you’re reading, or how you spent the day. He’s not interested in you full stop. He’s interested in Elain. You fight the way disappointment wants to twist the edges of your mouth, instead plastering on a smile that you hope he reads as oops, look at me! There I go again, haha.

“Well,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat, “she made some cupcakes—I think they were vanilla, and she put something that looked like jam inside. Really good. I’m sure she’d be happy for you to try one—if you ask,” you smile, adding in the details he wants to hear. For the Spymaster, he’s surprisingly open about his interest in Elain to you. But maybe that’s because you’re always so willing to answer any question you can for him.

“I’m glad,” he says, something glimmering in his hazel eyes. “And there were no silent spots? No abrupt changes?” You return your attention to the book in your hands, fingers running over the bound edges, “she was fine all the way. You never would have guessed everything she’s been through.” He hums, pleased with her progress. It’s a sound of contentment, from the back of his throat that you’re certain rumbles throughout his chest. It’s an effort to keep your attention on the book.

It’s been more than two years since the three of you were tossed into the Cauldron. Feyre and Rhysand are happy, Nesta’s made progress on healing herself and is now alarming in love with Cassian, Elain’s taking large steps in a good direction, too. You remember vividly the time when she would hardly utter a word for days, hardly shift her gaze from a strange spot in the middle-distance, how worried she made you and Nesta. And Feyre, obviously, but things were a little…strange at the time. They always had been.

You spent the first few months struggling to hold a meal down, often being wracked with spasms of anxiety and flushes of hot and cold. There was a time you would black out if you stood up too fast, and now you can hold down three meals a day without needing to run to the nearest latrine provided you don’t eat too quickly. You feel like yourself again, but fresher. You know you aren’t the same as you were, though. Not after the Cauldron, but you had no choice but to adapt. With eternity ahead of you, you couldn’t stand the thought of spending it weakened and frail—hardly capable of standing without feeling dizzy.

Maybe you are a little jealous that Elain’s getting all the attention. She’d always been the centre of Nesta’s attention, and while you were on fairly good terms with your oldest sister throughout your childhood, you were no competition for her sharp mind and sharper tongue. Feyre was the wild one, Elain the pretty one, Nesta the cunning one—then there was you.

What’s your place in your dysfunctional family?

“It’s good she seems to be steadily improving,” Azriel says, breaking you from your inner thoughts. You nod dutifully, agreeing with him. “She smiled for most of it, too,” you add, remembering how pleased she’d been when they came out how she wanted—after numerous attempts. “Though she was covered in flour—her hair was practically white!” You laugh fondly, covering your mouth with your hand.

A faint smile appears on his lips and, for just a moment, you let yourself pretend he’s smiling at the sound of your laugh.

But that’s all you have to report back to him, and even if you’ve pleased him, he’ll be finding an excuse to slip off now that he knows she’s been fine. You’ll admit, it’s difficult to remember she’s your sister when he so clearly would choose her over you. It’s not even a competition.

So you swallow your nerves, tuck your hands behind your back and peer up at him. “Hey, you read right?” You ask, keeping a pleasant smile on your lips—lest he think you’re too eager. He blinks out of whatever thought he was having, clearing his gaze as he looks down at you, then nods. “I’ve been known to pick up a book from time to time,” he answers. He’s in a good mood, it seems.

“Do you have a favourite?” You ask, tipping your head at a slight angle, appearing to look at the books stacked on the shelves. “I feel like I’ve been rereading the same story over and over again and want to try something else.”

“You’re asking me to pick just one?” He replies, quirking his brow. The smile that comes to your mouth isn’t as fake, or as controlled as you would like—it stretches your lips thin, showing the gaps either side of the top row of your teeth.

“Okay, give me a couple to have a nose at. So if one bores me to tears, I can pick up another,” you laugh gently, pulling the book tight to your chest, worried you’re showing too much. Does he know how your days often centre around whether he’ll seek you out? The too-short conversations that often revolve around your sister?

“Does Elain read?” He asks, tentatively, and it’s like a stone to your cheek. You clutch the book tighter to your chest, taking in a slow, quiet breath. “I can ask her? Subtly, of course,” you force a smile, fingers digging into the spine of the book. He shakes his head, “I’ll do it. I’d like to see how she’s doing for myself.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “to be fair, she might be sick of them for how long she was in here last year. They might be an eyesore by now,” you laugh softly. But instead he frowns disapprovingly, like you shouldn’t be making jokes at her expense. And suddenly that urge appears, the urge to confront him about his behaviour—why he never talks to you for you.

“Azriel…?” You say, the smile slipping from your lips, though your make sure your eyes still sparkle a little, keeping them partially crinkled. But then you bite the inside of your lip, and the rest of the mask fades, leaving you raw, and more than a bit scared. If you overthink it, it’ll never get done.

“Why do you…I don’t feel like you ever…like we ever talk. Us,” you say, then flush at the word—so intimate. Us. “What do you mean?” He asks, standing sturdy before you. A seed of frustration sprouts within, but you push the irritation away. “I just…You’re always asking me about Elain.” His brow narrows a bit, and you want to take the words back.

“What else?”

You look up at him, all beauty and classical grace, and such unearthly, ethereal lines and angles to him you wish you knew how to paint like Feyre. “What do you mean, ‘what else’?” You ask, a little hurt.

“I mean, is there something else you want to talk about?” He asks, gently. Carefully.

My book would be nice. I’d like you to ask how I’m doing today, how I’m feeling, what I want to do.

“Something that doesn’t involve my sister, would be nice,” you laugh, giving him a smile that reads, can you really blame me for not wanting to talk about Elain all the time? He doesn’t smile like you’d hoped, but frowns. “Do you not like her?” He asks instead, “did something happen between you two?”

“No,” you say hurriedly. “No—nothing happened, we’re fine. Right as rain. It’s just…you always ask after her, and I feel like that’s the only reason you approach me.” You swallow, having begin to put the truth out there for him. “You seem fine talking about other things with Feyre and Nesta, but I can’t remember the last time we talked about something that wasn’t my sister, and I… I don’t really…” You trail off, watching him nervously.

His frown only deepens as he takes you in. “I’m asking out of concern for her well-being, you understand that, don’t you?” He asks.

“I know, I know, but…are you?” You reply, managing to reign in your wince at the blunt question. When he only looks at you without response, you push forward. “I mean, you…you like her, don’t you? That’s why you ask all these questions? Why you care more than the others do?” You say, fighting to keep your voice even as the words come out. “And there’s nothing wrong with that,” you quickly amend, “but, you know, it would be nice to talk to you for you. And you for me. And, you know, she does have a…mate, so, I just thought—”

“What did you think?”

You blink at the sharp tone, his eyes colder than before, more sealed off. Still, you square your shoulders, keeping the book tucked tight against your front. “Well, that, maybe, it would be better to try somewhere else? Instead of investing in someone who’s practically already taken?”

“She doesn’t love him.”

“I know she says that, but—”

“But nothing,” he says, brow narrowing. “The mating bond can’t force someone to fall in love. If she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t have to have him.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you shift on your feet beneath his penetrating gaze. “Feyre and Rhys worked out,” you manage, eyes flitting away from his, focusing on the book in your hands. “And she didn’t love him at first.” The paper’s old and crisp—worn with age. “Then Nesta and Cassian also got together, too,” you add, the pads of your fingers dragging over the pages, “and you saw what Nesta was like. How badly she was struggling. They didn’t look like they were going anywhere but destruction, but—”

“Are you done with the nosey speculation into other people’s relationships, or is that how you’ve found yourself filling your time?”

Again you blink at him, caught off guard by the ice in his tone. “I’m not saying it’s wrong to pursue her, Azriel,” you appease—try to. “I’m just saying maybe you could try looking…elsewhere, you know? Maybe try something with someone else? That won’t end badly?”

“You don’t know it will end badly,” he replies, all former warmth gone, no trace of it in his beautifully designed features. “It will for someone. Even if you and Elain do somehow end up together, what about Lucien? If it were Feyre and Rhys, or Nesta and Cass, would you think it okay for someone to try and separate them? When they were chosen to be together?”

“Bad pairings happen. Rhys’ parents are a fine example.”

“Yes, but they’re rather suited for one another, don’t you think?” You ask, pushing forward, “Elain’s always excelled at social events. She easily settles into the flow of conversation—she knows what to say, and how to act to put people at ease around her. And Lucien does the same. He knows how to draw ties between people where there seem to be none, just like her. He knows how to keep conversation flowing without pushing it, how to keep things at the right pace, just like her.”

“While you…” you pause, and his jaw tightens.

“Go on,” he says icily, “tell me why think I’m undeserving of her.”

“I don’t think its a case of deserving, Azriel,” you say quickly. “But you…well, you try to blend into any corner you can when there are more than three people in the room.”

His brow narrows, “I didn’t realise you’d been keeping tabs on me.”

“Yes, well, you’re the only one I’m interested in, so.” Your voice is soft, bladed, honed. Resigned. You lips press into a thin line as your eyes flicker away from his, too embarrassed to look even in his general vicinity. You had never anticipated laying your heart to bare to be so…scary? Terrifying?

Anti-climactic.

Admitted in such a quiet, understated way. As if he isn’t the first one you’ve ever felt so strongly for. As if he isn’t the first one who’s given you a vague understanding of why some women were so happy to do whatever their husbands told them. Why they were so happy to live in subservience, and why that’s not what it was.

“You think you’re deserving of me?” He asks, coldly. Shame and embarrassment heat your features, but you manage to shoot back, “do you think you’re deserving of her?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to prevent yourself from being intimidated by his height, and muscle, and beauty, and overall damned attractiveness that makes you weak in the knees.

His upper lip twitches in a repressed snarl, anxiety spiking in your chest. “Answer my question,” he says, softly, an edge to his voice. You swallow, “answer mine.” You’ve never demanded something from someone before, but it’s out there now, and it feels surprisingly good to insist on something for yourself.

He regards you silently, and it takes a remarkable strength to stand still beneath his icy gaze—knowing that he’s judging what he’s seeing. Weighing if you’re worth his answer.

“I think I gave a hint of my interest for her,” he says, eyes glittering with something cold that you’re unaccustomed to have turned on yourself. “And she reciprocated with her own signs.” He stares you down, unyielding, and powerful, and you want to run and hide. “What about you?”

You purse your lips to keep them from trembling as heat crawls beneath your skin with humiliation. But—no. Get over it. Make it through. Survive something else. “I think I’m tired, and hurt from knowing that you only talk to me because you want to know how my sister is doing,” you confess, voice wobbling. “I think it’s cruel to continue asking after her when I so obviously answer every question you have just so you might pay me a little more attention.”

There’s no bite to your words, and they come out softer and weaker than you had expected. You feel tired, and drained. Eyelids heavy and heart rate spiking every other beat, numerous crescent shaped indentations on the heel of your palms.

“Maybe you’d be better off turning your affections somewhere they’d be appreciated,” he says, icily. Your heart aches, and it takes a few humiliating moments for you to gather yourself enough that you won’t burst into tears when you again find your voice. “That’s all you have to say?” You manage, fingers trembling behind your back.

“Maybe if you were even half the female she is, I’d be tempted to show a little interest,” he snarls softly, eyes glittering with cold rage.

It feels like a smack to the face, a punch to your stomach. Your eyes go wide, then blur, hot pressure building steadily. You dig your nails into the binding of your book, and move to walk past him—at least preserve what little dignity is still intact by refusing to let him see you cry. He already barely sees you as a woman, you won’t win any points with your blubbering. He wants a female, not a girl.

But he seems to realise what he’s said and turns, gripping your upper arm to keep you from leaving. You allow him to stop you, if only because demanding he let you go would show your tears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly, and you can hear the pity in his voice. “I spoke in anger, I did not mean to upset—”

“Get those hands off me,” you snarl, turning on him with defensive ire blazing in your pupils. Rage fresh from the forges.

He recoils as if you burned him. Retreats a step.

“Not nice, is it? Targeting someone’s insecurity—rubbing salt into an open wound?” You snap, blinking away the tears and pulling your arm back to yourself. “Don’t come asking me for updates on Elain again. I don’t want to talk to you if your only interest is in getting between her legs.”

He’s silent for a moment, and you debate just running from the library—you can feel the storm in him brewing, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him. But he doesn’t wait for you to decide, because the storm breaks right then and there. “At least she has someone interested in getting her into bed,” he says softly, hazel piercing into you. “Can you say the same?”

Mortification flushes your skin, mouth parting in humiliation. “I—…This is inappropriate,” you hiss to hide your burning shame. Because no, it’s always been Elain and Nesta to be pursued. His eyes gleam, reading your thoughts clear as day in your expression. “Thought not.”

Pain twists viciously across your chest, heart strings being plucked within an inch of snapping—pulled taught around your throat. “If I’ve never taken a man to bed, it is not because I am unwanted. Rather that I would not waste my self nor my time on someone I was not sure about. That I did not want with everything I have,” you whisper hoarsely—the final layer stripped bare for him to slice and dissect.

But then he steps forward, and without thinking, you yield a step. He’s not perturbed, and takes another. “You admit you have no experience in bed, yet think you could handle me?” He snarls softly, wings flaring ever so slightly at his back, shadows thickening. “I don’t think it’s a matter of handling you, Azriel.” His name is a little more than a whisper from your mouth. One he tracks eagerly.

“No?” He asks, stepping forward again, slowly herding you. “Then what?” You swallow, trying to stand your ground, but the sense of him is so overpowering, he threatens to obliterate every ounce of your own self. “I think it would be a matter of learning. And if you think I’m unprepared, then Elain is definitely no better off, so that clearly isn’t your issue.”

“At least she’s shared the bed of a man before, at least she would know what to do.” You don’t correct him that you have, in fact, shared a bed with a male before. A few in fact, by this point. Nesta’s the bad influence. He steps forward again, and he’s towering over you, hazel glittering between his shadows. “At least she wouldn’t lose her head over the slightest touch.”

And then his hands have landed softly on your hips, and your head is silent. Only his touch on your body, his warmth on your skin, seeping into your clothes. Does he find your shape pleasing? Is he feeling this mind-numbing shock? The tingling at his fingertips where they’re pressing into you?

For a too-long moment you just stare at him, thoughts eddying about without a destination, floating throughout your conscious.

“Still in there?” He taunts quietly, pushing you back, turning you gently as he feels the heat radiating from your skin, the stiffness to your body beneath his touch. It’s only when a hard, wooden shelf digs into the base of your spine that you realise he’s pushed you against the case. You open your mouth—to say what, you don’t know. He beats you to it either way. “You want to prove you haven’t already lost your mind?” He says softly, voice like a lover’s touch. You can do nothing but stare at him, panting softly, completely at his mercy. “Tell me to stop, or I’ll keep going. Say no, and it finishes,” he murmurs, keeping you pressed tight between his hips and the book case. “But I think you’ve already lost.”

You blink up at him, hardly a thought behind your eyes.

In the back of your mind, you’re struggling frantically to decode his words, translate them into something that makes sense. And then his challenge clicks, and you take a sudden, deep breath. You need to tell him to stop, to show him you’re still in control of yourself—that you haven’t lost your head over the slightest touch.

But then his mouth latches over yours, tongue prying your lips apart, and your efforts of rebellion are washed away. You go all warm, and soft, and pliable in his hands, melting like butter as you coat him. His piercing hazel eyes lock with yours as his mouth slants, one hand rising to the curve of your spine, pulling you against his front.

How are you supposed to stand against him when he annihilates everything that you are with the softest brush of his fingers—fingers that are now tracing up the path of your spine, reaching that final notch as they tangle with delicious pressure in your hair. His gaze cuts into you as his tongue drags across your own, flicking at the roof of your mouth.

He’s utterly unruffled, and you feel like you’re on the verge of bursting into flame right there, setting him ablaze in the process.

But then you’re again subverting his expectations, your hands flying over his shoulders as you tilt your head to allow him deeper. The only sign of surprise he allows is a blink of his eyes, but you’re already lifting onto your tiptoes—the swell of your breasts dragging over his chest in a way you must’ve learned males like. But where would you have learned?

Your arms tighten, then your hips are pressing against him, and—you’re fighting back, he realises. And for the first time in a long, long time, he feels excitement flare deep inside him as you stride to meet him. No matter that you aren’t Elain: he’s hungry, and you can make your own decisions. If you want him to stop, you need only say the word, and he’ll be off you. But if you don’t…well, he’s not going to be the one who backs out first.

He has a damn point to prove—that you have no idea what you’re getting into with him.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

[ryanshida]

It's strange to think that Kaito is the only one in this story who shouldn't have anything to do with any of this. He's not like the other Gosho Boys, who always wanted to be a detective or also, he doesn't have a relative who works for the police. A normal boy with a normal life, who thought his father had died in an accident and tried to move on from it, but ends up discovering that he lived a lie for 8 years, that his father was an internationally wanted thief and was murdered when he refused to look for a precious stone.

So Kaito enters this world of police and criminal organizations just to find out who killed his father, prevent someone bad from finding Pandora and take revenge by helping the police capture the criminals. But even if he treats it like it's nothing, he's slowly breaking down, it's exhausting and progress is almost minimal. I'm looking forward to film 27 precisely because Kaito won't be as positive as always, he's reaching his limit...

Kaito knows that Pandora might actually just be a legend but he keeps searching for why his father 'died' because of this. He devises complex plans, constantly risks his life and handles everything alone. Shinichi got support, he has Heiji, Agasa, Haibara, his own parents and everyone who knows his secret identity but Kaito has no one but Jii, not even his mother helps him (even though she knows more things than him) quite the opposite, she rarely shows genuine support, barely talks to him and is always distant and beyond that (it seems) in the last episode of Magic Kaito 1412, it was she who disguised herself using Toichi's image to shake Kaito, no matter what kind of intention did she have... That was cruel.

He's already gotten too involved to give up and pretend that nothing happened, that he doesn't know any of this, it's complicated and Jii can't stop him from putting himself at risk. Kaito doesn't like stealing, he says that sometimes but he's someone who is very stubborn and unaware of the danger, when he gets it into his head that he has to solve all this, he won't stop until he succeeds.

And even though a lot of people hate him, he never lowers his head or stops helping, he helps the police, prevents people from dying and always tries to put a smile on someone's face regardless of who they are. It's ironic to think that this pervert is such a pure-hearted person, that he feels guilty for not being able to save someone who had tried to kill him moments before...

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART VIII

— i love you, it’s ruining my life

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 6.3k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). angst!!! cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and depression. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hello besties, here's the next part!! happy reading <3

masterlist!

Pedro hadn’t expected his career to take another sharp turn so soon after The Mandalorian. The call he received that night in January, while lying in a dimly lit hotel room in London, still felt unreal. Hazy, thanks to the Ambien coursing through him, but real enough to make him sit up in bed after the line went dead.

Something big was coming, and he could feel it in his bones. It would change everything—if things weren’t already good enough as they were.

A few weeks later, he was back in London to film The Bubble. Everything seemed to blur by—filming, meetings, and the quiet rhythm of his life with Julia. He hadn't expected to fall into a relationship so effortlessly, but here he was.

She was a producer he’d met during a project in Budapest, though nothing had happened between them until months later.

Late November, to be exact. By then, things had shifted.

Pedro was never good at deciphering if someone liked him or not, and maybe that was why, when she suggested coffee, he didn’t think twice. She was lovely—kind in a way that didn't feel overwhelming, and he liked the way it felt safe, uncomplicated. When she reached for his hand, the world didn’t spin beneath his feet, and that was comforting. It was normal, and maybe that’s exactly what he needed.

After that first coffee, there were more—turning into casual dinners, casual sex, easy conversations, and eventually, a steady progression toward something more.

By December, things had gotten serious, though Pedro still sometimes woke up disoriented, feeling as if he was living in someone else’s life. Julia kept him grounded. And though it wasn’t the kind of love that made him lose his breath, it was steady.

One morning, in early December, he woke to find a message from you. You’d mentioned him in an upcoming Vogue interview, a brief nod to his help in keeping you sane during those first chaotic months of the pandemic. Your publicist thought it might make a fuss for a while, and you didn’t want him to wake up and think someone had died or something.

Nothing too big, P, just the usual storm. Call when you’re back in the States. Miss you.

Pedro stared at the message for a long time, debating. You’d always known everything about him. Every high, every low. But now? There was Julia to consider. He sat on the edge of the bed, Julia still asleep next to him, the London sky a dull gray through the curtains. He’d thought about telling you about her for weeks—maybe he should’ve before New Year’s—but it was easier to let the conversation slip away.

Until it didn’t.

That night, at Oscar’s New Year’s party, when you found out about Julia, he could see it in your eyes—the hurt, the shock, the confusion. You didn’t say much after that. Just told him you hoped he was happy, and if he was, that would be enough.

But it didn’t feel enough.

Not then, not now.

•••

Back in London, the routine of it all began to suffocate him. He spent his mornings reading lines, drinking bitter coffee, and answering the inevitable buzz of questions about his relationship status. He didn’t care to comment. He didn’t want to make it official in a way that felt like another announcement to the world. His job was to act, not live his life on a stage. Still, the headlines rolled out, and his relationship with Julia became another topic of conversation.

The days passed in a blur, but something bothered him. You had gone silent. Completely. Not only from his life but from social media, from the public eye, from everywhere. He called on your birthday. Oscar had mentioned you hadn't planned anything for the day, not that he knew off, and Pedro found himself standing on the cold balcony of his hotel room, dialing your number with a strange urgency.

You picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

Your voice sounded far away, thin and almost unfamiliar, like a melody he had forgotten.

“Hey.”

There was a beat of silence, a pause where recognition should have clicked into place. Instead, you sounded distant, hesitant.

“Oh. It’s you.”

His lips twitched into a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, it’s me. Did you delete my number?”

A soft shuffle on the other end, like you were shifting in place, caught off guard. “No, uh, I just picked it up without looking who it was.”

He leaned against the railing, gripping the phone tighter as if it could bridge the distance between you. The cold metal beneath his fingers bit into his skin, grounding him, though your absence felt like it was growing by the second. "Happy birthday, mi amor."

“Thank you, Pedro.”

The way you said his name, the clipped tone, made something stir in his gut, but he shook it off.

“You doing anything? I heard you didn’t have plans.”

“Nothing really, maybe over the weekend,” you replied, but there was a softness in your voice that didn't match the words, like you were choosing them carefully, holding something back. “I know you’re in London; that’s why I didn’t—”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t call,” he interrupted, leaning against the cold railing. His free hand found his hair, fingers tugging at the strands, trying to steady the unease creeping in. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been... You know how it is.”

Another long pause. For a moment, all he heard was the faint rustling on the other end, like you were curled up somewhere small, the space between you both stretching impossibly wide. He didn’t notice the silence for what it was—didn’t notice the way it wrapped around your words, cloaking the pain underneath.

“I do,” you whispered. It wasn’t an agreement; it was resignation. "Listen, I have to go. Say hi to Julia for me."

You hung up quickly, the words leaving him cold. The last part stung in a way he wasn’t expecting.

Days turned into weeks, and though you stayed in touch here and there, your conversations felt different. Lighter. Less personal. He tried not to let it bother him, but it did. The less he tried to think about you, the more you occupied his thoughts, living in the corners of his mind where you had always been. It felt like torture, the way your presence always lingered even in your absence.

When Pedro finally posted about landing the role of Joel Miller, the flood of congratulations came pouring in, but only one comment left him reeling.

So happy for you!!! You’re gonna kill it.

It was from you. Simple, encouraging, and yet it twisted something inside him.

His birthday arrived not long after, and he found himself back in LA, where his friends greeted him with a backyard party under the stars. Sarah held a cake with a single candle, and as everyone cheered, Pedro smiled, but there was an immovable weight in his chest.

Later that night, after the crowd had dispersed, he and Julia escaped upstairs to his room. They ended up half-dressed, tangled on his unmade bed. She smiled at him afterward, her gaze hazy with affection. “Happy birthday,” she murmured, running a hand down his chest.

Pedro wanted to stay in that moment, to let it be enough, but his mind wandered. He had that feeling of wanting to be trapped in one place, wanting to dig his heels in. It didn’t need to matter that that reality was waiting for him outside the door. It didn’t need to matter that you hadn’t called.

April 11, 2021

London, England

Pedro’s mood had been darkening for weeks now, but if Julia had noticed, she didn’t say a word.

She’d taken on a slew of new projects, coming home late most nights, leaving him to his thoughts and the silence that clung to their flat like fog. Pedro found himself pacing the empty rooms when she was gone, unsure where to place himself in her absence. He felt the weight of insomnia closing in again, the recognizable ache behind his eyes making the hours stretch painfully long.

That day, however, his focus had shifted. He was set to present Best Foreign Film at the BAFTAs, and his stylist had dressed him in a Prada tuxedo coat, a crisp white shirt, and skinny-fitting suit trousers. He looked sharp, elegant even, and for the first time in days, Pedro felt something close to confidence.

He and Julia arrived at the event together, but they didn’t pose for pictures side by side. Still, photographers captured fleeting moments—Julia holding his hand as they stepped out of the car, a quiet laugh between them under the canopy of flashing cameras. By the next morning, their images were all over social media, sparking the inevitable buzz about their relationship.

Pedro ignored most of it.

Two days later, while sharing a quiet breakfast in a cafe with Julia, he opened Instagram out of habit, and your face appeared.

There you were, standing in the middle of some forest, your expression serene. The caption read: Surprise. A new album drops at midnight. In isolation, my imagination ran wild, and this is the result—stories and songs that flowed like rivers. I hope you love it.

The post had already gathered thousands of likes and comments, and Pedro’s chest tightened as he stared at the screen. The timing of it all was almost cruel, but it was the impact of your sudden reappearance that left him reeling. You had vanished from the public eye for so long, and now, with no warning, you were back.

That night, Pedro lay awake next to Julia, the persistent itch of insomnia dragging him out of bed. He moved quietly so as not to disturb her, slipping his earbuds in as he stepped onto the hotel balcony. His hands trembled slightly as he pulled up your new album. He hesitated for a moment, but he pressed play anyway.

For ten songs, Pedro was transfixed. Your voice wrapped around him, haunting and familiar, weaving tales of heartache and isolation. There was a rawness to your words, an unflinching honesty that pierced through the midnight air. He listened intently, picking apart the lyrics, wondering if they were about him, if the pain you sang about was shared between you. It felt like an open wound, and yet he couldn’t stop listening.

Each song was a confession. Each melody a letter never sent.

When it ended, Pedro sat in the dark, overwhelmed. The emptiness gnawed at him, and all he wanted was to call you, to talk, to hear your voice. But he didn’t.

A couple of weeks later, he found himself shamelessly googling you again, hoping for something—an interview, a post, anything—but there was nothing. You had gone silent after the album drop.

No promo, no press. Just the music and then nothing. He congratulated you once, a brief message saying how beautiful the album was. You replied with a simple, “Thank you. It means a lot.”

That was it.

July 10, 2021

Alberta, Canada

Pedro arrived in Alberta at dawn, the skies painted in soft hues of pink and orange. The cab ride to the hotel was quiet, his agent and hairstylist riding with him as they prepared for the long months ahead. Filming for The Last of Us was finally starting, and though Pedro was eager to begin, a deep nervousness tugged at him.

Julia hadn’t come with him this time, staying back in London for her own work. She promised to visit, but Pedro wasn’t sure how often. In her absence, he felt that familiar loneliness creeping in, the kind that terrified him, mostly because it left him alone with thoughts of you.

He checked into his room and sat heavily on the sofa, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes until his vision blurred. He needed to eat, to call his family, to ground himself in something, but instead, he grabbed a beer from the mini fridge and settled back into the couch. His fingers hovered over his phone again, the compulsion to check your Instagram pulling at him like a bad habit.

But, like always, there was nothing.

Your only other post had been a month ago, thanking your fans for the love on the album. He had messaged you a couple of times—small, inconsequential exchanges that left him unsatisfied. He didn’t know what he was searching for in those brief interactions, but whatever it was, it felt futile.

Then, ten minutes later, like a sign from the universe, you shared an interview. A video with you talking about your creative process. Pedro couldn’t stop himself. He grabbed his laptop, another beer, and settled in.

As he watched, he couldn’t help but stare at you. You looked radiant, sitting across from the interviewer in the backyard of your California home. The conversation was easy at first, touching on the album’s success, but then it turned more personal.

"The pandemic was really rough, and also life in general, I guess," you said, your voice quiet. "I found myself post-breakup, isolated in a cabin in Calgary, and writing was all I had. But the inspiration wasn’t just from that breakup. It came from years of… things."

The interviewer asked gently, "You mean the breakup with your most recent ex specifically?"

"Yeah," you replied, your eyes dropping for a second. "It wasn’t entirely about that. I pulled a lot from my imagination, I guess. The lines between fantasy and reality blurred, and I found myself writing from perspectives that weren’t always mine."

Pedro’s heart clenched.

"There’s a song on the album," he continued, "the final track. It’s haunting. You sing about being hurt by someone you love but being unable to let them go. Can you talk about that?"

You paused, taking a breath before you spoke. "It’s a quiet resignation," you said. "That person and I, we hurt each other, but I love them. So, I guess that’s it. It felt like the right way to end the album."

Pedro’s world stilled. He realized, in that moment, what he had been searching for all this time. He had wanted confirmation, a sign that you still loved him. And with every word you spoke, you gave it to him.

Filming for The Last of Us began a couple of days later, and though Pedro threw himself into the work, your voice lingered, ghost-like, at the back of his mind. Days turned to weeks, and as production moved into September, the physical toll started to wear on him. He spent long hours on set; the Canadian cold started biting into his bones. Bella, his co-star, became a bright spot, their energy infectious, and though they bonded quickly, Pedro felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him.

In the early mornings, when the world was still asleep, he would take walks to clear his head, the cold sunlight grounding him. Julia came to visit now and then, joining him on these walks, but they often ran out of things to say. He could feel the quiet disintegration of their relationship, like watching ice slowly melt into water. He didn’t know what they were holding onto anymore.

•••

When October rolled around, Pedro’s schedule clashed with the start of The Mandalorian’s third season, and it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to join the production on time. His agents scrambled to find a solution, but when Pedro’s stunt double was suggested as a replacement for the early scenes, he was left with an odd sense of detachment. And when his agent told him it had been your suggestion, something in him cracked.

The anger simmered for weeks. He felt foolish and abandoned, wondering if you had pushed him away to keep your distance. But then, just as the resentment began to harden, you showed up on set with two coffees in hand, flashing him a smile. "One iced caramel macchiato for me and one large quad over ice for you," you teased.

Pedro blinked, startled. He hadn’t expected your warmth. "Thanks," he managed, taking the coffee.

"You’re welcome," you replied brightly. "We missed you here."

"Did you?" he said, a hint of sarcasm slipping into his tone. "Because I heard it was your idea to keep me away."

Your expression twisted into confusion before you laughed. "I was just trying to make things easier. You were still filming, and I figured rushing back here would be a nightmare for you. I wasn’t plotting anything."

Pedro felt a wave of relief wash over him, mixed with the faintest trace of regret. "Well, in that case, I missed you too."

•••

For two seasons, your character hadn't seen his without the helmet. Today you were shooting the scene where, out of necessity, he reveals his face to you. It was written as a pivotal moment in your characters' relationship.

The moment the director called action, the air on set felt different. It wasn’t the usual hum of crew members shuffling in the background or the low murmur of cameras whirring. Instead, a heavy, almost sacred quiet descended, blanketing everyone as the scene unfolded. Pedro’s mind mirrored that stillness, a sudden and unnerving hush. It felt like everything outside of this moment ceased to exist, like time itself had bent inward.

And then—nothing. No words. No script. Just you, standing so close to him, your face inches from his, hands cradling his jaw.

You widened your eyes, a silent prompt, urging him to speak, to remember his lines. But all he could do was stare. He hadn’t been this close to you in months, hadn’t felt the warmth of your touch or the soft presence of your breath in what felt like a lifetime. His throat tightened, his words trapped somewhere deep inside. He knew the scene needed to move forward, but for one fragile moment, all he wanted was to keep you there, locked in this pocket of stillness, as if holding onto you would stop everything else from slipping away.

You read him, like you always did. You settled in, your hands still on his face, fingers pressing gently into his skin as if anchoring him. Then, softly, you filled the silence with a line—one that Pedro was sure wasn’t in the script, but it was perfect. You carried the scene, leading him back into it, your voice becoming the tether that pulled him out of the stillness and into motion. Pedro blinked, refocusing, forcing his body and mind to follow your lead as he finally delivered his line.

The scene moved on, but something lingered, thick and unsaid.

When filming wrapped for the day, the tension still simmered. You caught him at the edge of the lot, your expression unreadable as you approached him. Maybe you'll ask him why he froze like an idiot during that scene, or maybe you'll just walk past him without a word.

Instead, you simply asked, "Dinner?"

Pedro couldn’t say no. He never could when it came to you.

You ended up at a small sushi restaurant tucked away from the chaos of the city. The space was warm, softly lit, a sanctuary from the noise of the outside world. Pedro sat across from you, picking at a piece of sashimi, trying to focus on the conversation but finding it hard. You talked about the year you’d spent away from the spotlight and how you’d pulled back from everything.

"I mean, I’m doing this because I signed a contract," you said, lightly joking, but your eyes flickered with something that gave you away. "Disney has snipers; you know how it is."

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

Pedro chuckled, though he could hear the sadness in your voice, the weight behind your words.

"If I could’ve gotten out of it too, I would have," you added, your tone quieter, more reflective. "I guess I just needed to slow down. I’m tired of it all."

"You even skipped the Oscars," Pedro replied, taking a sip of his drink. "That's how you know it's serious."

"Yeah, I love the Oscars. Excellent champagne."

Pedro watched you closely, wanting to dig into your words to pull apart the layers of exhaustion and sadness you were burying beneath the surface. He wanted to offer you some kind of comfort, to tell you that he understood—that he, too, had been feeling the weight of it all. But the words caught in his throat. Instead, the two of you ate in silence, the kind of quiet that wasn’t uncomfortable but spoke volumes.

There was something about being with you, even without words, that felt…right.

Later, as he lay in bed, his mind kept returning to you, to your confession. He wondered what you weren’t telling him, what you were holding back. But as much as he wanted to reach out to ask, he couldn't.

The next morning, Pedro was on a flight back to Canada. The weeks that followed blurred into a rhythm of cold, grueling days on set and long, sleepless nights. He threw himself into The Last of Us, trying to lose himself in the work, but no matter how hard he tried, thoughts of you crept back in. You were there, always, lingering in the corners of his mind, and Julia could sense it.

She didn’t say anything at first, but Pedro could feel it—the slow unraveling of their relationship. It wasn’t sudden, like a crash or an explosion; it was quiet, a gradual dissolution. Every day, a little more slipped away. He wasn’t sure what he had expected from this relationship, from this life they had built together. Did he think they would buy a house, start a family? Had he ever really seen himself in this life with her, or was it just easier to disappear into hers?

Finally, Julia said it. Brightly, almost too casually. "I think maybe we’re done."

Pedro didn’t fight it. He didn’t have the energy. "Yeah," he murmured. "I think that was my fault."

•••

Christmas and New Year’s came and went in a blur. Pedro went to Chile for a few weeks, seeking the comfort of home, of family. There, surrounded by his siblings and nephews, he found a brief pause, a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a while. But even in the warmth of his childhood home, memories of you still haunted him. He saw you in every corner, heard your laughter in the echo of the hallways.

One night, after too many glasses of wine, he called you on a whim. It wasn’t about anything important—just small talk, catching up. You sounded good, better than the last time you spoke, but there was a distance in your voice, a kind of finality that made Pedro’s heart sink. For some reason, he didn’t tell you about his breakup. He kept that part of his life hidden, not out of secrecy but because it felt irrelevant at that moment.

What would it change? What did it matter?

You didn’t talk much after that. Your silence felt deliberate, not like a missed connection but a closed door. It was as if you were telling him, without saying it outright, that this was where it ended.

In the days that followed, Pedro did his best to push you out of his mind, but it didn’t take long for the thoughts to creep back in. They always did. Anger. Sadness. Regret. They whispered in his ear, insidious and unrelenting, reminding him of what he had lost, of what he could never quite hold on to.

February 7, 2022

Los Angeles, California

The suitcase lay open on the bed, half-packed, with clothes spilling over the edges like an unspoken reflection of your mind. Each item you folded and placed inside felt heavy, as if carrying pieces of the last year with you. Taylor sat cross-legged in the chair by the window, scrolling through her phone while talking, but her words barely reached you over the noise in your head.

“I’m surprised you said yes, that’s all,” she said, her voice light with curiosity. “You’ve basically been a hermit for a year now.”

You laughed softly, your hands smoothing over the fabric of a sweater. “I needed the break, you know that. ”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push yet. You were grateful for the acceptance, even if you knew she was waiting to bring it up again, the same way she always did.

“One day, you’ll tell me what really happened,” Taylor continued, her voice taking on a familiar teasing edge. “You'll tell me what had you sulking at home like a sad Victorian poet for a whole year.”

You folded another shirt and placed it in the suitcase before responding, “I’ve told you countless times. Nothing happened other than…he got a girlfriend, and I stayed out of the way. That’s it.”

Taylor squinted at you as if she didn’t quite believe it, her eyes narrowing with the kind of suspicion only a close friend could afford to show. “Aha,” she said slowly, drawing out the sound.

You rolled your eyes but smiled.

“I wasn't sulking,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone light. “I was…relaxing. It was my year of rest and relaxation.”

She chuckled at that. “Good one, smarty pants."

Outside, a breeze rustled through the palm trees, carrying the scent of jasmine and the distant hum of LA traffic. You imagined the street below, the shuffling of photographers leaning against their cars, lighting cigarettes, and murmuring to each other. They had become a permanent fixture, appearing gradually over the months, staking out your house like ghosts waiting for you to return to life.

It never ceased to surprise you how much people cared about what you did off-screen. You couldn’t just let your work stand for itself. No, you had to prove yourself over and over again, reminding the world that you were still an asset, still someone worth admiring.

You shrugged, half-smiling, but there was something sad in it. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m only doing this because I've been dying to work with this director, and it’s a closed set. Once those eight weeks are up, it’s back to my hermit status.”

Taylor shook her head with a dramatic sigh. “So we’re missing the Oscars again this year?”

You threw a pair of socks at her, chuckling. “Seems like it.”

But inside, everything wasn’t as lighthearted as your words. Last year, you’d taken a step back from the spotlight, and while you didn’t want to attribute it to the hurt you were feeling over Pedro, the truth was, it had everything to do with him. Well, at least a huge chunk of it. It hurt not to have him. It hurt to see someone else kiss him, hold his hand so freely, so easily. The pain wrapped itself around you like a second skin.

The world expected you to bounce back, to emerge from this self-imposed exile with a smile and a perfect soundbite. But the truth was messier. You had spent a year nursing a heart that hadn’t fully healed. You loved Pedro in a way that still hurt, in a way that sometimes made you feel like a child who didn’t understand why they couldn’t have the one thing they wanted most. You wanted to be the bigger person, the one who could let him go gracefully, but instead, you had hidden.

You were blue all the time. Some days were okay; some days you barely got out of bed.

There were moments it felt paralyzing. The weight of the world outside your window, the expectations, the love you still felt for him—all of it crushed you. Some days, you simply couldn’t move. You stayed curled up in the safety of your blankets, staring blankly at the ceiling.

It wasn’t long before someone intervened. Your PA was that someone.

She didn’t push you at first. She’d just knock on your door, leave food outside, and ask if you needed anything. You’d spent three weeks in your room, moving only to get water or occasionally sit by the window.

One afternoon, Renata came in and found you in the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. She placed a sandwich she brought on the counter and looked at you, her voice careful, but firm. “You need to talk to someone.”

“I’m talking to you,” you replied simply, taking a sip of water.

“No, you know what I mean. A professional. It’s okay if you don’t feel…” She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.

“I’m fine,” you said, starting to walk toward the stairs.

“You’re not going to eat?” she called after you.

“Not hungry, but thanks,” you mumbled, disappearing into your room again.

But Renata didn’t let it go. She pushed gently, week after week, until finally, you let her schedule an appointment. She promised not to say anything to anyone, especially Taylor. You didn’t want to worry her.

The word depression had seemed too big to say aloud, too heavy, but that’s exactly the word your psychiatrist had used.

“You’ll need to take these every morning,” he said, handing you a small prescription bottle. “And it would be good to write how you feel. Keep track of things.”

You sat there, legs crossed in an oversized chair, staring at the prescription bottle in your hand.

•••

You watched from the sidelines as Pedro continued to rise, landing roles in The Last of Us, becoming the face everyone adored. You were thrilled for him, of course, but the distance between you felt insurmountable.

The only interaction you had was through a comment on his Instagram post, and even then, you weren’t sure if it meant anything. You didn't dare to call him on his birthday; you didn't want to stain his day with sadness. Every time you looked at your phone, tears threatened to spill. You felt as if the moment he spoke into the phone, you might collapse.

He's better off; he might not even notice.

The album you dropped in the spring had been a release of every emotion you hadn’t been able to speak aloud. Each song was laced with love and loss, heartbreak and longing; every note was a confession you’d never let yourself voice. You wondered if he listened to it—if the lyrics registered with him, if he knew they were about him.

That same week, you saw photos of him in London, holding her hand. You cried yourself to sleep that night.

The months passed in a blur of avoidance. You busied yourself at home with anything you could find that didn’t involve thinking about him. You did the one interview your publicist insisted on. It was with Zane Lowe; you liked him, so it was mostly okay. You found yourself talking about the songs you wrote during that time. As you listened to your own words, you realized that the music had given you a voice when you felt silenced by heartache.

It was a bittersweet realization.

By October, filming for The Mandalorian had loomed on the horizon, and when you found out Pedro was still tied up in Canada, you suggested beginning production without him. It felt easier that way, like a reprieve. But when he finally arrived on set, the connection between you two still crackled beneath the surface. There was an unspoken understanding in the way he looked at you during that intense scene—the one where your character saw his face for the first time. He froze, and you wondered what was running through his mind—what thoughts had stopped him from continuing.

You hesitated, but after the scene wrapped, you found yourself asking him to dinner. It was a slippery slope. You could pretend you were okay all you wanted in the brief moments between takes, offering coffee and smiles, but no one saw right through you like him.

Still, you asked. It was a small gesture, just a way to extend the fragile thread of connection between you, to hold onto him for a little longer before he left again.

But you’d learned how to stay in your lane. You’d learned how to love him from a distance, how to let him be happy with someone else. It was an act of love, really—letting him go, stepping aside to give him the space to live a life that didn’t include you. At least that’s what you told yourself.

Taylor’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Do you think you could be a hermit in Greece next? I could use a vacation.”

May 29, 2022

Los Angeles, California

Between promoting The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent and wrapping up the final scenes of The Last of Us in Canada, he had little time to do, well, anything else really.

It was late May, just after the Star Wars Celebration. He’d worn a blue two-piece set that felt more like pajamas than anything formal, which was fine by him. Comfort was the priority these days.

But something was missing. You. You hadn’t been there. Out of everyone from the cast, you were the only one absent, and that absence settled like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

"She’s just taking time off," he’d tell himself, repeating the words like a mantra. “She’s probably busy; she's okay.” But the nagging feeling wouldn’t leave him alone.

Pedro had even caved one evening, calling Taylor. It had been late, after a full day of press, his voice rough from interviews and late-night whiskey. He had only meant for it to be one drink. But then he thinks back to the fact that you've plagued his dreams every night this week and that there was a song he kept hearing repeatedly that reminded him of you, and one drink had turned to three, and now here he is.

“Taylor?” He had sounded more vulnerable than he intended. “Is she... I mean, everything’s okay, right?”

Taylor had reassured him, of course, her voice patient, telling him you were fine, that you just were busy. Pedro wanted to believe her, but it gnawed at him. Something felt off.

He still woke up some mornings with the urge to tell you something, a joke he heard or a weird dream he had.

•••

By August he found himself in Spain, the arid heat of the desert sinking into his skin as filming for Strange Way of Life began. The project felt like a strange departure—something raw and gritty, something that required his full attention—but even then, in quiet moments between takes, his mind wandered. He’d sit in his trailer, his phone in hand, thumb hovering over your contact name, but the messages stayed unsent.

The days passed in a blur of rehearsals, early morning call times, and late-night script revisions. He spent his downtime with Ethan, exchanging stories over beers. But there was a quietness to Pedro that hadn’t been there before—a missing piece of him he couldn’t quite place.

•••

November 22, 2022

Miami, Florida

The night was sweltering; even by late fall standards, the air was thick and humid. Pedro was grinning, wearing a loose-fitting animal print shirt that made him feel playful, like he was stepping into some exaggerated version of himself for the evening. Lux was by his side, vibrant as always, their laughter mingling with the clink of glasses as they arrived at a wine event.

But it didn’t take long for Lux to notice the shadow that hung over him.

“You’ve been quiet,” she said, side-eyeing him as they sipped their drinks by the bar.

“I’ve been busy,” Pedro answered vaguely, swirling his glass and watching the amber liquid catch the light.

“Sure,” Lux replied, smirking. “And when are you both going to stop being idiots? It’s getting tiresome, hermanito.”

Pedro nearly choked on his drink, laughing in surprise. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb.” Lux’s voice was matter-of-fact, cutting through his defenses with that typical bluntness only siblings could pull off. “You and her. It’s obvious. To everyone.”

Pedro sighed, leaning back against the bar, the Miami night buzzing around them. “It’s not that simple.”

Lux raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re both so afraid of what might happen that you’re stuck in this limbo. It’s ridiculous. Why let it get this bad?”

Pedro stared into his glass, her words echoing in his head.

"Because I love her," Pedro finally admitted, his voice quieter, weighed down by the truth. He stared down at his drink, swirling the ice around the glass. "I love her so much I’m willing to let her go."

Lux didn’t say anything.

Pedro shook his head, a bitter smile playing at his lips. "I would only hold her back. I know her so well. She’d sacrifice things just to be with me, and I can’t let her do that. I would only hold her back. She deserves so much better."

Lux tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “And what if what she wants is you? What if she’s out there feeling the same way, thinking she’s the one who isn’t good enough for you? Do you ever think about that?”

Pedro let out a slow breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. "Of course I’ve thought about it. Every day. But what if I’m wrong? What if she gives up things she shouldn’t for me? I can’t let her do that, Lux."

Lux leaned in closer, her voice gentle but firm. "Maybe it’s not your decision to make. Maybe she deserves the choice. Don’t you think it’s a bit arrogant to assume what’s best for her without even asking?"

Pedro met her gaze, feeling exposed. “I just... I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t want to ruin her life.”

Lux smiled, but it wasn’t pitying. It was knowing, soft around the edges. "You’re not ruining anything by loving her. But keeping it to yourself? That’s where the damage is, hermanito. You think you’re protecting her, but all you’re doing is pushing her away. And trust me, that hurts more than anything else."

He had always been so afraid of losing you, so terrified of not being enough, that he hadn’t even realized how much distance he had created.

Lux’s voice softened again, the words cutting through the noise in his mind. "She deserves better, Pedro? Maybe. But who says you don’t deserve her, too?"

a/n: please like, reblog and comment! i love reading your thoughts!! next part will be posted in a bit ;) aaaand something might be happening ;)

[aprik0se]

Please help a homeless trans woman survive!

09/06/24- IMMEDIATE NEED: $100 to cover an overdraft fee and get her some food.

VENM0 @ruby_arnone $rubyk01 PayPl

DETAILS: Charlotte has been sleeping outside with her dog and the weather is getting colder. She is very sick from cancer, covid complications, and injuries after being assaulted. I am grateful for the help she’s gotten so far but with donations she has only barely kept up with immediate needs, and skipped meals most days. She NEEDS more support, which means saving for a vehicle to live in. The gofundme below shows a little over $800 raised but all of that has gone to survival expenses over the past 2 months! The actual progress is 0. Please consider donating using one of the methods above! I do not exaggerate when I say that continuing to live outside will kill her. Please show up for trans women while they are still alive.

[haddonfieldwhore]

sparring partner - hayden christensen

hayden christensen x younger!fem!reader

summary: hayden helps you with lightsaber training for the ahsoka series

warnings: age gap implied (no age specified tho), that might be it? not edited

word count: 1.5k

“i can’t do it,” you resigned, frustrated and tired from trying the same move over and over and not getting it.

“try it again,” the choreographer suggested unhelpfully, and you exhaled in annoyance, mostly at yourself, before getting back in position. you doubted that the thirtieth time could possibly go any differently than the previous twenty nine attempts, but tried the steps again anyway; no luck. it didn’t look this complicated when you had first been shown the fight choreo, but for some reason you just couldn’t nail down this specific spin. you and natasha, who played sabine, were supposed to meet in about half an hour to practice the fight together before shooting the scene next week, and you had shown up an hour early to try and get your moves down. you felt like you hadn’t made any progress at all.

“take 10 minutes, get some water,” the choreographer suggested, and you nodded, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand.

you sat down on the floor and leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes with a defeated sigh, your prop lightsaber clattering to the ground next to you. a shadow fell over your face and your brows furrowed slightly in confusion at the sudden darkness.

“hey, how’s it going?” a voice asked and you opened your eyes to see hayden standing in front of you.

“not so great,” you admitted. you hadn’t gotten the chance to work with hayden much yet while filming ahsoka, but anytime he stopped by the set to see how things were going, you enjoyed talking with him, and greatly appreciated any input or advice he offered. you had always admired him as an actor. hayden tried to convince himself that it was coincidence that every time he came by set you happened to be training or shooting that day.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, a look of concern on his face.

“i can’t get this one part of the choreography,” you admitted with a sigh, and he extended his hand to you, pulling you up off the floor once you slid your hand into his grip.

“show me?” he asked.

“i can try,” you laughed dryly as he got a prop saber of his own and stood next to you, giving you enough space to demonstrate the move as best you could.

you managed to get through the steps, although with the smoothness of a droid that had never been oiled and at about a quarter the speed they should be, but it was enough for hayden to get the general idea.

he slowly repeated the steps, with slightly more grace than you had, and then instructed for you to follow along with him. after a few tries and a great display of patience from hayden, you made it through the sequence and it almost looked good.

“how are you so good at this?” you asked, trying not to let the jealousy you were feeling come out in your voice, as without him you never would have got it.

“i’ve had more practice than you, that’s all,” he smiled reassuringly. “try it again on your own,” he instructed, taking a step back.

you fumbled through the movements again, and groaned in frustration when you made a mistake again.

“it��s hopeless,” you surrendered.

“come on, you can do it,” hayden encouraged, but you shook your head.

“i can’t, i’ve been trying forever and i just can’t get it.”

“i thought you wanted to do this,” he challenged, and you were slightly taken aback by his words.

“i do-“

“then prove it,” he said, his stance changing to invite a duel.

“hayden, im not going to fight you,” you sighed, though amused.

“why not?” he taunted. “afraid to lose?”

“you have years more training than i do-“ you stopped your complaint as you had to raise the saber in your hands to stop a swing from the man in front of you.

“now you’re just making excuses,” he taunted with a smile, and you retaliated with a swing of your own that he blocked with ease. you traded blows back and forth, the crew taking a step back as the two of you duelled back and forth. to no one’s surprise, hayden had the upper hand, and you ended up dropping your prop saber, and stared up to meet hayden’s eyes as he held the blade of his across your throat, hovering just centimetres below your chin as you both caught your breath.

“not bad,” he complimented, and you felt a sense of pride.

“thanks,” you smiled, your eyes flickering down to his lips, the corner on his mouth still upturned, and your gaze landed on his eyes again, which were still locked on you. your heart pounded against your ribcage as you put your hand on his that still held the saber at your throat, and lowered it gently before you took a step back.

“sorry,” he apologized, and you shook your head as if to say it wasn’t needed. “i knew you could do it though.”

“what do you mean?” you questioned, tilting your head to the side in confusion, which hayden couldn’t help but feel guilty for finding quite cute.

“the move, you did it,” he said like it was obvious. you realized that without even thinking, during the duel with hayden you had in fact successfully executed the move sequence that had been stumping you all morning.

“that was great,” the fight choreographer said as he approached the two of you. “it’s too bad you two don’t have a scene in the show, your chemistry is great.”

“thank you,” you both replied, and the choreographer offered you an extra five minutes to rest, since you had spent your previous break practicing.

“think you can do it again now?” hayden asked encouragingly, and you nodded, but you felt nervous. what if it was a fluke? you were annoyed enough at yourself as it was, and the added pressure of not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of hayden wasn’t helping.

however, you took a deep breath, and to your relief, managed the move with little difficulty this time.

“i did it?” you smiled, but it sounded more like a question, and hayden couldn’t help but laugh. “i did it!” you repeated, and couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around his shoulders in a hug. you could feel his body tense in surprise, but he relaxed and circled his arms around your back, a chuckle shaking through his chest.

“i knew you could do it.”

“thank you,” you smiled. “i couldn’t have done it without you.”

you separated, though your eyes met again briefly, a thickness hanging in the air between you until you heard footsteps approaching. you turned to see natasha walking up to the two of you. neither of you had noticed how long she’d been watching the two of you duel, but she was impressed.

“nice moves,” she complimented, bumping your shoulder playfully. the two of you had grown close while working on the show, and you were looking forward to shooting this fight with her.

“thanks, i had a really good teacher,” you complimented, sending hayden a glance.

natasha noticed the way his smile lit up his eyes as he looked at you, and made a mental note to bug you about it later.

“i can’t take all the credit, it was all you,” he insisted, the two of you lost in your own world, and natasha wondered if she was suddenly invisible.

“well, you ready to practice?” she snapped you out of the trance you were in, and you nodded. “if you didn’t tire her out too much, that is,” she teased. hayden felt a blush rise to his cheeks, and he found himself grateful that you were looking the other way and therefore didn’t notice.

“let’s go,” you agreed, and she grabbed a prop saber and walked over to set down her bag.

“i’ll catch up with you later?” hayden asked, and you smiled.

“i’d like that,” you smiled, and he tapped your shoulder gently, his fingertips sending a shiver down your spine. “thanks again, hayden.”

“anytime.” with that he turned and walked over to some of the crew to talk with them as you met natasha on the other side of the room.

“was i interrupting something?” she teased, and your brow raised innocently.

“what do you mean?”

“you and hayden..?” she asked, like it was obvious. “you guys were having a moment when i walked up.”

“it wasn’t a ‘moment’, he was just helping me,” you disagreed, though you wouldn’t mind if it had been a ‘moment’, whatever that meant.

“hmm, okay,” natasha hummed teasingly, unconvinced. “is that why he’s still watching you?”

you casually glanced over to see that hayden was in fact looking your way, and he smiled when he met your gaze before continuing his conversation with the crew.

“that doesn’t mean anything-“

“if you say so. now come on, let’s practice.” she teased, and you rolled your eyes before she went on.

“loverboy will be there later.”

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[passionateseadruid]

yandere alastor being the reader's pet..the reader has alastor's soul, but the reader is a little afraid of the strange way in which alastor is acting.....

Yay! A request! Here you go!

“Here is your seafood gumbo, Buttercup!” Alastor smiled as he used his favorite pet name for you.

“Thank you, pet.” You took a spoonful of the gumbo into your mouth. “Mmm. Delicious as always pet. Good job.” 

He squeezed his arms. “Thank you, buttercup.”

You never knew if he was truly happy or not due to the smile that was permanently plastered on his face. You never really thought much of it though. “You are dismissed.” You didn’t want to be near him any more than you realistically had to be

“Of course, buttercup.” He bowed and left.

Your relationship with him was quite… complicated. 

—+—

See you used to be an old friend of Lilith’s. The two of you were inseparable at the start of hell (much to the chagrin of a certain short blond motherfucker). However, as time went on you started to drift apart. It had been over 2000 years since you last spoke to her when she sent you a small care package and letter. Inside the letter was Lilith requesting that you go over to her daughter's hotel and sabotage it (or at the very least stall their progress until she was able to find a way to discreetly sneak back into hell). Inside the box was alastor’s soul.

When you first got to the hotel everyone was a bit skeptical of you, other than Charlie. Vaggie didn’t trust you being basically a primordial being, Angel and Cherri liked to tease you but immediately backed off if they felt you were taking it poorly. Husker was apathetic and Niffty was aggressive towards you. And Lucifer was not happy to see you (at first). Alastor was a complicated story.

He was originally very cold to you at first. But that lasted for about a week before he started to kiss your ass, and hard. He probably figured that he could try to manipulate you into giving him his soul back. You obviously weren’t going to do that but he didn’t need to know that. After about 2 weeks he gave up upon realizing that you were going to ignore him as much as possible while you were here. 

You were sitting on the couch in the parlor. “Why are you here?” Alastor snuck up on you from behind, spooking you. He sounded really annoyed at you.

“Um… I’m here to help the hotel.” You scooted away from him. If he was mad at you, the best thing you could do was get out of there while you still could so that you wouldn’t have to use force. Despite the smile on his face you could tell he was upset. His muscles were tense, and he was hunched over trying to get in your space. “Uh… hey, could you maybe make me some crawfish etouffee? You’re an amazing chef! U-unless you had something else to do. You know, like your radio show.” You were tripping over your words trying to get him out of there.

Something changed on Alastor’s face in that moment. His eyes became saucers for a second before they narrowed and his lips twisted into a malicious, sadistic grin. “Of course… buttercup.” He cackled and melted into his shadow, his laugh echoing through the halls of the newly built hotel as he went. He left you shuddering and shrinking into yourself. 

—+—

But that was 4 months ago. Things have gotten a lot better for you since you first came to the hotel. Everyone was finally starting to trust you and dare I say even like you.

Some a bit too much for your liking (And for the liking of a certain deer).

You were getting closer with Charlie to complete your mission. Of course that also meant getting closer to Lucifer. At first he was jealous of all the attention Charlie was giving you, but he quickly switched up his attitude towards you when he realized that flirting with you would make The Radio Demon enraged.

Speaking of The Radio Demon and The King of Hell’s feud… after Alastor left you with your Gumbo that day he specifically went to seek out Lucifer. Alastor was going to have a little… chat with the big boss of Hell himself… whether they both wanted it or not.

He warped behind the short king. “Lucifer.” He was very annoyed. Lucifer had been flirting with you nonstop today. He even asked you for a kiss today.

Lucifer scoffed at Alastor. “What in blazes could you possibly want?”

Alastor’s eye twitched at the disrespect. “I want you to stop trying to steal my buttercup away from me. She is mine to have, and to hold, till an exorcist’s blade do us part.”

Lucifer laughs. “I wasn’t aware that she was your wife. The last time I asked her she told me that she owned your soul.”

Alastor silently walked over to Lucifer and shoved him against the wall. This only really worked because he had caught the king off guard. Never before had Alastor gotten physical with him. Alastor leant into Lucifer’s ear and whispered, “If you don’t stop, I will make Charlie give me her soul and order her to NEVER speak to you again…”

Lucifer gasped. “And pray tell, how would you accomplish that?”

Alastor chuckles. “Her and I made a deal. She still owes me a favor, and I will cash it in if I need to. Hm. Maybe once  I have her soul I’ll make her dress up in a short dress and parade around the pride ring in it.”

Lucifer grabbed Alastor by the neck. Lucifer’s voice was cold and low; there was a demonic filter dripping in his words. “Don’t you dare touch my daughter.”

“Then stay away from my wife.” Alastor choked out. Lucifer let him go with a nod. “Good doing business with you!” He turned around and walked back to your room. The sleep tranquilizer he put in the gumbo should have worked by now. 

He entered your room and saw you sleeping peacefully. He came over and layed next to you. He slung his arm over your waist and kissed your temple. “Goodnight, my love.”

[mikeylo]

A Reason to Stay, Bound to You

Length: 13.2K+words

Genre: Fluff, Sullyoon x M!Manager (age gap, let just say appropriate range), in-depth detail of an idol manager work, 2nd POV style.

Summary: You Y/N being Nmixx manager got into feeling complication with Sullyoon, one of the Nmixx's members (Same goes for Sullyoon with her manager). Multiple instances happened between them in which only strengthen their bond deeper than a mere staff or worker. A controversies strike the group costing your job as their manager. Will their feelings stay intact?

Disclaimer:

First time posting a story on here or ever, English is my second language, technically it is third but the second one in terms of which came first.

Props to my friends for beta read my fic to lessen the mistake in there.

Credit to her for giving the fic such a lovely name. It's so good it freaking make sense

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Nmixx manager is a diligent worker, always provide what Nmixx needs. That is you, Y/N we are talking about. All Nmixx known for extrovert aura, but Sullyoon is otherwise, well she did have to blend in with the energy of her group in which she already gotten used to it by now, but her old self still lingers around. With all due respect, other girl is easier to interact with, but Sullyoon is a more on the difficult side. You Y/N, their manager also once a shy timid little boy understood her demeanour clearly, it makes her heart flutter you are able understands her without much communication. The moment when two path crosses its way to conjoined, it all started back in the dressing room where the love spark first ignited in midst of a cold season. Being a caring manager you are, you decided to prepare some set of blankets for the girls. So, you entered the room with the folded blanket.

“Anyone needs a blanket” you voice out to the members. The room was hustling with staff going in and out ensuring the showcase smoothly progressing displaying every group distinct music colour, Nmixx the group you are taking care of was not an exception. You hope for the best award every given to them

“Aniyo (no)” member replied in unison except the one at the far back of the room, Sullyoon. At the corner of your eye, you saw Sullyoon turning around with puppy eyes and slightly protruding her lips looking for you. She assumed you will head out again since the member doesn't need the heated blankets, so she was a little bit let down as she was kind of cold by this frigid atmosphere. “Here you go” astoundment was shown in her eyes staring in appreciation towards you. You didn’t notice her heartful stare as you carry on facing the crowd in the room. “You girls need anything else?”

“You need anything?” Your remarks broke her out of her trance. She shakes her head a bit, eyes fluttering waking up her sense back, “No….… opp- manager-nim” she softly spoke. Red hue on her cheeks can be seen but you sensed it as a fleeting thought because you got a lot to take care of, part-time, siblings college fees and any other breadwinner was tasked for.

“Manager Oppaaa, get me pumpkin spice Americano juseyo and…...” in baby voice, Haewon make a call from the other side of the room. Being their manager for almost two years, you are still amazed by how explosive their energy is, the iconic trio, Kyujin Jiwoo Haewon are unstoppable force, adding Lily and Bae is just a cherry on top.

“Make it three oppa” Kyujin interrupts Haewon while holding her left hands up with the number three. You can sense Haewon glaring her eyes out at Kyujin as you take note of the order on your phone. The so-called twin maknae, Kyujin and Jiwoo always teaming up on their unnie. They even sit next to each other in the room.

You inquire their usual order from the rest of the girls, Lily and Bae. You tilt your head a bit since Sullyoon decline her daily caffeine order. You found it weird especially today with her, as if she's not being her usual self. You clearly notice all the member comfortably call you “Oppa or Manager oppa” beside Sullyoon. Well, it's a given as you regularly call her by her stage name. When you were first introduced to the members, they present themself by their stage name which is their real name but only until later you found out Yoona is her real name. By now it's a habit calling Sullyoon her stage name and looks like it doesn't bother her at all. Little did you know, she does get bother by it, seeing you calling every member by their real name make her heart feel unease.

“The order will be here, see you guys in a bit, got some errands to do, ask manager unnie if you guys need anything, FIGHTING!” with fist clench showing unwavering support to them.

Being the head manager usually handling company, production team and event organizer applications for the group, making sure they are up to date. Most of the time you get it done quickly a week before. Having no pending task, in the meantime you watch the members do their idol work from behind the scenes, assisting manager unnie taking care of the girl’s wellbeing 24/7.

Afternoon and evening schedule are filled with photo shoot, interviews and live broadcast on a music shows. Since it takes place at the Seoul broadcasting station, ending a few schedules at the station with an interview with the media outlet at the front entrance with fans cheering in the background.

Unfortunately, your stomach has been feeling uneasy for the past couple of hours as there's some technical issue earlier at Magazine shooting session making the intended schedule falling behind. You are tapping your feet away waiting behind rows of camera witnessing the girls do their interviews, finishing two to three interviewer question, bidding goodbyes to the fans and walk off to their van. To add salt to injury, the interview also taking a few minutes more than what has been planned, so you must guide the member quickly. That's what your hope for, but fate got better plans for you.

As you lead the group and assist the van’s door. The rest of the girls went on the van, but you saw the back of the Bae’s head covering the incident you never expected to happen. A commotion happens to Sullyoon with a media reporter. The reporter looks like on the last thread of his job and would do anything to keep it, even if he must break the standard moral of conduct. The media reporter was crossing the belt barrier holding onto Sullyoon wrist and bombarded her with questions.

“Mr……please…. stop it” She murmured out her discomfort and wince a bit of pain due to the tight hold. To not cause further the havoc. She grabs her left fist with her right hand to make an attempt to flee the situation. Bae hesitantly come closer to Sullyoon trying to snatch her away from the man. “Mr..…we got other schedule to attend… maybe on the next fan meeting” a chance was taken by Bae but doesn't budge the man’s hold on Sullyoon’s wrist.

“You guys are the reason Jini was kicked out of the group, she never left voluntarily!” The reporter shouted attracting more witnesses to the scene. The girls were startled by the thunderous claim by the man. Jinni issue was settled years ago, even Jinni herself say it herself.

You watched as everyone attention was pointed to them, this matter will only worsen as time goes on, you take big step towards them. Yanking the reporter’s hand off Sullyoon. It takes every ounce of your energy to not put a dent on the reporter’s face. With a lot going in your head from delayed schedule, controversial claim to the sight of frightened Sullyoon really boils your anger.

“Kindly put your hands off the idol Mr, they have fixed schedule needed to follow.” You spoke with teeth clench while trying your best to carve a smile on your face, some even may see your veins pulsing on your temple.

“Yahhh, hands off you basta-” The man was ready to throw hands but reconsider his choice after seeing you seething with anger through a fake smile as it wasn't worth to have broken nose and jaw over his job. He broke off your hold and flee the area. You didn't notice your grip earlier left him to massage his wrist.

“Are you guys, okay?” You gently hold on both of their shoulder checking for any injuries. You quickly ushered them to get into their van. After closing the door, you jog your way to the driver seat and drove off.

--------------------------------------

From time to time, you glance at the rear-view mirror to check on the girls, especially Sullyoon. Being assaulted must be putting a lot of weight on her mental health. You cursed yourself for not doing your job properly, probably you should have stayed close when guiding them, or maybe you should have been more attentive about the group schedule last week, then this wouldn't had happened. Today’s occurrence overwhelmed your mind to the brim.

“Oppa, we have arrived” Haewon tapped your shoulder from the backseat. Haewon’s call break you out of your trance. You look over your shoulder and multiple sets of eyes are directed to you. The corner of your eyes detecting your surroundings, makes you realise that you have driven them to their next schedule location instinctively. They have a schedule at Ajou University for rehearsal for upcoming University Festival consert and you brought them here with your mind going autopilot mode. “Your sick piece of shi-” once again you mouth curse word to your carelessness of not being conscious throughout the drive, it could have led to nightmarish accident. “You guys go ahead; I will catch up” signaling them with the back of your hand to go ahead. They all went out leaving you alone in the van. It was one hell of a week you think to yourself. Taking side quest while having a job to take care others was not the most ideal life choice, but the extra cash was needed.

Being a people pleaser really has took a toll on you, having most trusted friends swindle your money with debt still calling your name like student loan, monthly bills. And on top that regular hospital fees for your ailing little sister, Jiu. You wouldn’t want to complain about family burden but it’s still your responsibility. Well, you always hoped being that very unlucky main character to suddenly be granted with the most beautiful reward like those slices of life comic you used to read. You chuckle at your own ridiculousness.

With you having a laugh at your life stories. Sullyoon look back at the van before entering the tent area for the rehearsal. She can't really see you through the window as it was black tinted. But deep within her heart, she hoped that everything would go your way.

For the past years working together, she somewhat able to relates herself with you as both of you are very good at hiding your pain. Back when you have a fever, you pretended to drink an energy drink, but it was actually coughing syrup. You left her flabbergasted taking the sight of others believing your act.

On the side note, it leaves her a hint of excitement and connection knowing both of you have something in common, but it does not last long as hiding one’s pain also hurts her. Like the intense bruise on her wrist after the incident with the reporter that you missed.

“Yoona-yah, hurry up! We have to go” Jiwoo brings back Sullyoon back to earth seeing her standing far from the pack. “Wait up, I’m coming” Sullyoon take one last glance towards the van but this time from afar both of your gazes met as you step out of the van. Both of you stares into one another. Even though her sensory experience is being occupied by the intense swelling of her bruise, Sullyoon still able to shows you her toothy smile and crescent shape eye. Her smile really captivates you that you almost didn’t notice she’s waving at you lightly with her right hand. You sheepishly wave back with an equal smile but grasp something is off with her overall condition.

A sigh of relief as you see her back to her usually demeanour as that what you assumed, she’s a strong girl given a heavy responsibility to hold such beauty in this thorny world. As she turns back to catch up to her member, you furrowed your brows in confusion catching her conspicuously awkward movement. Seeing her stop mid-way to check on something. Witnessing her grasping onto her left wrist with her other hand before disappearing into the cluster of tents. You may haven’t had a meal for today, but your gut’s instinct was stronger than usual after what you had just witnessed.

You grab available med kit and rush to their tent. Despite not being fond of your overthinking traits, but it mads you think she’s been affected by the earlier incident in some way. You ran through manifold rows of tent from various group and almost missing their designated tent. Once you parted the curtain, at your dismay the members weren’t there. Checking the sign pasted outside maybe you could've gone to the wrong tent. “They already went on stage” You heard a voice beside you, seeing Manager Unnie sitting on a plastic, focused on her phone,

Without much thought, you make a beeline straight to the main stage while slither your way avoiding bystander staff. Then you found yourself by the foot of the stair leading up to the stage, since it was an outdoor concert so there are a lot of deployable stage light rigged on some beam and trusses. From there you saw the members getting ready for rehearsal, doing some stretching and vocal warm-up. Adding humorous element to the scene, Haewon poking Lily by the waist while she trying to do vocal warm-ups.

You scanned through the set while walking up the stage’s side stair and your eyes land on the person you're looking for, Sullyoon. She's doing her stretches while she's entering her pensive mode staring into the horizon. One of her few habits you happen to see quite often throughout the years, she always shies her face away when you caught her pondering her mind for too long. But for today, I don’t think it’s the case.

Since she stands close to the steps, the clanking sound of metal stairs from your footing makes her turn her head around and stumble upon seeing you with a med kit by your side. She was a bit startled by your unexpected presence and the sight of the med kit only making her anxious about what's going to happen next. From your perspective, her demeanour changes from her usual ethereal looking beauty to a timid little girl after she’s been caught red handed.

You motion her to come here before you are rummaging through the med kit searching for an ointment and a bandage and she hesitantly obliged. As she stands in front of you fidgetingly, you signal her to give her left hand. She hesitantly places her hand on top of your right palm. As you gently twist her wrist to see the damage, horror came down to you as the bruise patch was quite sizeable with deep colour. Being a manager, acquiring basic dermatology is essential, your concerned only tripled knowing it’s not what you consider a normal bruise but a severe one. After having a knowledge of her injury, you ruffle your hair in frustration, now you wished you had let your intrusive thought of busted the reporter’s nose to extinguish your wrath.

With wide eye you look up from the bruise to her eyes to make eye contact. As if telling her telepathically how serious the injury is, and she is hiding it, but she avoids the mutual glance and averted her eyesight to the ground waiting anxiously for scolding from you. But you are more obliged to attend her injury as it’s a serious one.

“ Does it hurt?” you whisper softly while maintaining your gaze on her. With both of your hand on her left wrist, positioned both thumbs on the bruise mark, just a mere graze of your thumb on her skin causing her to wince in pain. You felt sympathy for her. It really reminds you when you had to endure endless throbbing sensation for weeks on your right thigh from slipping down small steps and not having a luxury of proper treatment. Since she's under meticulous care of their manager, she doesn't need to experience it.

“This is a lot more serious than I thought, you should head back to the tent for now” you comment while spreading some bruise-healing cream on her injury. Since haven't got any cold agent around, you opt to go for immediate treatment for her and wrapping bandage loosely around her wrist.

“Bae-yahh! Come here” you called Bae to come over and continued to inform that she will accompany her back to tent. Subsequently, the rest of the member also joined in as they heard you called Bae. As expected, everyone went bonkers upon hearing the news about Sullyoon getting hurt by the incident, Jiwoo being the sensitive one might make one confuse who’s the victim as she’s about to shed some tears. Lily on the other hand being the sweetest she is, giving Sullyoon a patting at the back and lean her head onto Lily’s shoulder. Upon seeing the eldest giving affection towards to younger one, the rest of the member also joined the love surrounding Sullyoon, in contrast to you awkwardly trying to hold onto Sullyoon’s wrist as you fully aware of how excruciating having a bruise and severe one at that.

Being an Idol in a country that's known for it makes up the competitive nature so any schedule must move on. Meanwhile, you asked Bae escort Sullyoon back to their tent carefully. You advised Bae to hold Sullyoon arm closely leveled to heart level to scale down swelling rate. Conversely, you picked up their pre-ordered meals for tonight from a nearby diner run by a lovely ahjumma (Aunty). Unintentionally, it was the restaurant you used to visit frequently when around the area. And you remind yourself to also buy Sullyoon a sling and a cooling agent pack.

“That's quite a big order you got there, what's the occasion?” You were a bit jolted overhearing a voice close to you as you were patting your attire for your wallet at the counter to pay. You saw a familiar figure with some partially white hair with back slightly hunch due to old age, the restaurant owner. “It's for my sisters” you sheepishly smile back at her, I guess you could consider the members as your little sister knowing how close you guys’ bond together. You are dumbfounded knowing your mind can clearly vision where exactly you left your wallet but to only forget you left it back at the tent.

“Don't worry, the meals are on the house” the old women uttered makes you feel guilty, exchanging your forgetfulness for a free meal, such an unfair trade. “You boys must work relentlessly these days, let me tell you…. don’t overdo it like my deceased son” those final three words meant a thousand sweat and tears both from the son and his mother. You grow up without much preference of your parents other than countless cut and bruises as a remembrance of them and final memory of news about their car accident.

The only driving force that’s keeping you moving is those who are under your care. Sometimes you can be selfless to keep other in check and not worry about yourself but hearing Ahjumma’s words make you rethink on how you would approach the future. You really should take care of yourself better, ending your life accidentally by your own hands is not something you want to imagine of your loved one crying over your passing.

Your heart ached just from picturing them tears up. Your only little sister, your best friends, naughty ahjussi that helps you out of the rut, Nmixx member, Jiwoo, Kyujin, Haewon, Lily, Bae………. Yoona.

*Lub-dub Lub dub, “How does pronouncing a name can make my heart beating so fast?” you voice out internally and you opened your eyes recalling yourself you are still in the restaurant. Both pair of eyes from the cashier and Ahjumma gave you a confused look. To not make your face even redder, you bid them farewell and pick up the meals. As soon as you walked out, you facepalm yourself replaying the moment that’s just happened.

Driving back to Ajou University was never a difficult task but the lingering feeling both coming from the mind and stomach make it so. You chose to think the discomfort coming from your stomach is because of you haven’t had any proper meals aside from snack bar so you felt relief that it doesn’t have anything to do from those earlier thoughts back at the diner. But your minds are playing tricks on you, “Why am I keep thinking of her?” You shake your head every once in a while, but it doesn’t go. It only replaying memories of her but in different scenario. “Manager-nim where is my blanket?”, “Manager-nim, can you help me open this up? “, “Manager Oppa, how does Yoona look?” Haewon asking you about Sullyoon’s dress.

You are about to go crazy with this ridiculous thought repeating every instance of her with you. Fortunately, your mind has more tricks up its sleeves. Constructing a scene beyond your experience. The mind started its magic, and you can see Sullyoon is skip walking towards you with both her hands placed behind her. You think of moving out of the way, but you feel your body is stuck in place. Neither your legs nor your hands can be move. As she about to close the distance, you closed your eyes preparing for a head on collision. But then, you felt both of your hands were held by a set of soft and delicate finger. You opened your eyes to assess the situation and you were displayed by the closeness of her profile. You were charmed instantly, never ever have you gotten this up-close inspecting her allurement. You were aware of her beauty, but this only makes you to not avert your eyes away from her. As you had fully submit to your mind’s desire thinking this is the climax, but your mind knows what you truly wished for. Sullyoon tenderly squeezed your hands and say your utmost desire “Call me Yoona…………. Y/N Oppa”.

You screamed at the top of your lungs not as a figure of speech but literally, so loud that pedestrians walking by look at your van. Thankfully, with black tinted window and you stopped at the traffic light unconsciously, you once again saved face from embarrassment. To make it worst, your throat went sore and dry, it really starting to sting when you try to make a sound. You stopped by a convenience store to buy some cold packs and a sling as you nearly forgetting the most important matter.

Only couple of turns left, you arrived again at the parking lot of Ajou outdoor theatre. Not forgetting their meals in hand and post purchase item. A huff of exhaustion escapes you as you walked down the familiar path toward Nmixx’s tent. With your mind more focused than before to end the day on a good note, you settled on the improvised schedule in your head as they will have dinner here and end the day off with a radio show.

As you parted the tent’s fabric to enter, you saw the girls already finished their rehearsal and waited. “Meals are here” as you placed it down on the nearby table. “What's it, oppa?” Kyujin being the first scavenging through the plastic.

“It's Bibimbap (White rice topped with diverse toppings)” you answered while looking around where did you place your wallet. You swear you put it on top of the table. Searching around the tent, ducking under the seat, maybe it slips out of the tent, just a mere thought filled your mind with dread. With the enjoyment atmosphere from the members ensued in the background over a homemade meal, you noticed two members were absence. You reckon they went to the washroom.

You headed outside to check if your instinct were true. You spotted Bae and Sullyoon headed your way from a potentially washroom. Bae was holding onto something while leisurely maintaining Sullyoon’s wrist at heart level but what's intrigued you was both were looking at it so intently like solving a puzzle. “Where did you guys go?” You questioned them insensitively with arm crossed and raised eyebrow as you eyed the very familiar item in their hands.

“Oh, Oppa is here” Bae was the first to notice your presence and followed by Sullyoon with a slight stun perceiving your existence. Bae are oblivious on how searing Sullyoon’s wound is while holding onto your lost wallet, you can only let out unenthused snicker. “Oppa, who’s this?” Bae extended her arm out showing the inside of your wallet while being clueless of her intrusion of privacy, casually asking you who is the younger girl in the picture. “Little sister” responding with smirk, your peripherical vision detect a drastic change of Sullyoon expression from a stern look to a beaming smile. Unbeknownst to you, in the depths of her heart was a hopeless and resentful devotion upon seeing the picture in your wallet illustrating a girl figure where you wrapped your arms around her shoulder. Never once in her life being this thrilled upon hearing some news, like Christmas comes early, there’s still possibility of her uttermost wish to be granted.

“Foods is here too” Bae lightly throws the wallet up in the air leaving Sullyoon catching and grasping onto the contraband. Bae’s action spooked you a bit, it was not about seizing the wallet but the moment she lets go of her hold onto Sullyoon’s wrist got your instinct kicked in quickly holding on to her wrist. You stared menacingly in the direction of where Bae’s headed. Observing Sullyoon getting left out by Bae only adding more evident to her selfless personality. You bet Sullyoon tell Bae off to not worry about her to much as you just ordered Bae to keep watched on Sullyoon.

“Manager-nim……. your hand” Sullyoon shyly tug your sleeve to regain your attention, as you regain focused, oblivious that you unintentionally holding her hand after you noticed her response. You swiftly retrieved your wallet from her hand as you commanded her to hold her wrist with her other hand to lessen her injury. Although, this is not the first time she held your hand, it always sends butterfly in her guts. The major size difference between hers and yours coloured her cheeks red acknowledging that fact that it could easily wrap your hands arounds hers easily. The rough and sturdy exterior of your hand cradling her tender and delicate palm only contributed to her sensory overload.

With the minor mishap out of the way, you swung your sling bag around to the front to search for the sling you just bought earlier. “Here, put this on” you hand her the sling, and she hesitates, unsure about wearing it. “Manager-nim……. I don’t think I need this, it’s only a bruise” she mildly protests, unable to keep eye contact with you. You take the sling off her palm and do it your own way. You politely request her to lift her left arm to put the sling on, it was done in an instant. But the one on the receiving end was flushed to oblivion, having your arm nearly wrapping her around, your warm breath tingling her ear as you try to connect the slings end. Your hand slightly brushes her hair sending shiver down her spine. A hint of your perfume mixed with your natural scent initiate a malware in her mind.

You take a step back, appreciating your work. “Look, doesn’t take long at all to wear” feeling a bit proud of yourself, not aware what kind of blushing mess you made Sullyoon as she stared down to the ground hiding her face with her hair flow with the gravity. Worried slowly overcomes you upon seeing her current form, is she, sick? Does she really do not want to wear the sling? You leaned in to properly judge the situation. “Are you sick? your face redder than usually” you mutter to yourself, but you are not the only who heard it considering both of your face are inches away. Like any typical method to determine whether one has a fever, using the back of your hand will do the trick. You gently sweep her fringe aside and place the back of your hand against her forehead. A burning sensation started to take its place into your hand.

“Manager-nim stop it!!!!” Sullyoon let out a shriek of embarrassment with fist clench by her side. You raised your hand in defends from any potential blow. You peek between your fingers taking in a sight of fully flushed Sullyoon with an annoyed expression towards you. “Ehem ahhh G-Go eat up inside, there’s bibimbap ready” you stutter and nod tensely towards the tent inside, avoiding eye contact with her after what just happened. Sullyoon stomped off into the tent leaving you scratching your head in confusion.

Brushing the thought aside, you make your way into the tent. Everyone already munching on their respective bowl of bibimbap. “Oppa, ant chu eaching?” Jiwoo mumbled; her mouth filled with rice. “I will, just have to update the company our current status” you replied to Jiwoo detecting the scene Lily slapping her hand for talking with mouthful out of the corner of your eye as you whipped out your phone. Their sibling dynamic proving they are more than just worker but more like a family. You typed away on your phone all the details to inform about Sullyoon’s injury. “Sullyoon-ah, I need to take picture of your injury for proof” calling out her name without honorific giving her goosebumps essentially pronouncing her full name, Seol Yoona. Luckily, you proceed getting the proof without causing another scene.

“How long does she have to wear it?” Haewon posed a question piqued everyone attention. As soon you submit the report, you turned and faced Haewon before answering. “At most 3 weeks if you casually only applying balm on it, but at short as 1 week if it’s under attentive care like wearing a sling, healthy diet, gentle exercise and avoid re-injury will suffice. “It’s going to be a hassle wearing that around, how the media will react if she wears that in public?” everyone focuses on the one commenting, Manager unnie. Hands on your chin, you reflect on your assistant point of view. “Hmmmmmm” you hummed in contemplation as you walk around the space with everyone anticipating your answers.

 You stopped your track standing in front of Sullyoon. “Sullyoon-shi, does your hand feel pain when you move your arms around” almost in interrogating tone you question her. “A bit but I feel it is more convenience to- Ahhhhh” sharp pain shot through her joint as Kyujin were sitting beside her raising her knee to scratch her ankles inadvertently hitting Sullyoon’s arm. “Oh My God Sullyoon! Unnie, Are you okay! I’m Sorry!” she freaks out getting everyone on their feet. Promptly grabbing the cold pack, you went and place it onto her affected area and proceed to check-up on her. Your observation conclude that her breathing gets heavier, seeming that her body is trying to cope the sudden twist on her swollen wrist. Beads of sweat started forming on her face

Upon seeing Sullyoon condition worsened, you instantly act voicing out your game plan. “I will drop you guys off at the radio station then I will take Sullyoon to the nearby clinic” everyone nods in agreement. The reason for your urgency was because Seoul traffic gets packed during the dusk hour. By looking at Sullyoon’s current state, it’s only matter of time she will lose consciousness from enduring overbearing pain. “I will get the van closer; you guys steadily assist Sullyoon to the van” you tried to sound as calm as possible despite the critical tension to prevent any mishap occur along the way. You are not in this alone, anyone mistake will hold accountable.

You hasten your movement towards the van and with quick manoeuvre you parked it close enough for them catch up. You grimace at a sight of Sullyoon limping with her arm draping over Bae’s shoulder. With everyone buckled up, you put pedal to the metal heading towards the designated location. “Manager-unnie, can you book a VIP health check-ups at a nearby hospital?” With manager unnie doing her part, conversely you pick up steady pace on the road while not forgetting others safety. Suddenly, the situation in front of you caught your breath viewing a massive traffic jam. “Will we make it in time Oppa?” you imagine Haewon sticking her head out behind the sits. You looked closely through the rear mirror, a sigh of relief upon seeing Sullyoon’s breathing pattern has steadied. You saw a glimpse of her eyes slightly opened and nods in assurance at you that she’s doing okay.

“Everything will be under control, believe me” comforting those under you in critical moment what makes you stand out from others. Ironically, you may construct deep attachment easily with this attribute, but you will have a hard time to let go of that person. Going back to the matter at hand, you reroute your path finding alternative for better chance of arriving early as progressing slowly is better than stuck in a never-ending traffic.  Even with the situation toned down, you are still concerned about Sullyoon’s wellbeing and it’s your top priority for now.

Fortunately, with 15 minutes to spare. Everyone disembarks from the van leaving Sullyoon in your custody and splitting our respective path. “See you guys in a bit after I check-up on Sullyoon at the hospital” you bid them farewell through the window and off you went. You take a glance at the rear mirror, you saw Sullyoon soundly asleep like a baby koala latching onto its mother. Seeing her in slumber state only shows how straining the pain is putting onto her mentally and physically.

Upon arriving at Seoul National University Hospital parking space, you looked around you to determine how crowded it is. It’s a given as it’s on national level public service. It wouldn’t be pleasant walking around with an idol by your side. You looked behind your seat, Sullyoon is still sleeping. You felt guilty to wake her up, but you must for the sake of her health. You jumped out from the driver’s seat and slide the door open. The heavy sound of the sliding door woke her up randomly, she looks over her shoulder scratching her eyes.

You proceed to put her cap and mask on to prepare for check-up. You wear your sneaky outfit with a mask and the same black cap on, even though you are only a mere manager, you don’t want to risk of being caught. There’s been multiple occasions of you accidentally inside of Nmixx photos taken by fan, it wouldn’t be surprising if anyone recognize you. The walk to the receptionist was a bit of a hassle as Sullyoon still half-awake from her nap while clutching onto your arm. The reservation registration was done quick with only needing to post your assistant name and trudge to meet up with private medical officer in a consultation room. “Manager-nim, I want to take a nap” you didn’t complain much despite you basically support half of her weight as she essentially leaning onto you with her head rest on your shoulder.

Slowly but surely, you make your way crossing the doorway. “Reservation under Mrs Kim” you state your assistant’s name to the doctor inside for customer identification. You explain her condition to the doctor while she’s still drowsy with her head lean on your shoulder. The doctor instructs you to seat Sullyoon upright in the designated chair. The doctor begins doing his job and start removing Sullyoon’s sling. You were occasionally answering questions thrown out by the doctor as he keeps on his progress. How does she get the bruise? What are the first air treatment that you give her? Did you apply ice pack on it? And you also add that her bruise might be getting worse as there was a small mishap of twisting the joint.

The doctor clarifies more about her bruise severity. The more you understand her condition, the more you treat her with empathy. He highlights the extreme discomfort from the swollen bruise can put heavy stress on the patient’s mind. This justify the reason Sullyoon is drowsy because she’s exhausted put up with the pain. “Manager-nim….”she looks up at you, her lips slightly protruding and her sleepy eyes pleading, as she leans her head against your torso.

“Who is she to you? Your girlfriend?” the doctor asks but shrugged it off. The doctor interrogates you in the meantime he’s spreading arnica gel onto her bruise. You go for simple answer “Idol and manager” as his question got you acting on high alert. You heard light chuckle from the doctor “Don’t worry sir, our customer’s privacy is our priority” as he just finished wrapping up Sullyoon’s arm. You are amused by the doctor sense of humour and were reminded to take medication at the reception.

Luck was in your favoured, you felt grateful things went smoothly as you step into you van with Sullyoon taking the passenger seat beside you. A quick glance at your wristwatch telling you got ample time to even send Sullyoon back dorm before getting the other members back at the radio station. Without wasting a single second, you head straight to their dorm.

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There’s nothing more enjoyable than driving on a road in which the traffic has thinned out. Saving you more time to grab a bite as you are starting to feel the spike poking your abdomen. As you put the van to a halt in front of Nmixx dormitory, you hear Sullyoon’s yawn and stretch wide awake. “Good morning” you jokingly said to her. She understood the assignment and greeted you back with a yawn, in which you find it cute because of how down to earth she’s in spite of how ethereal she can be.

“It’s time to go to bed, I will need to get back to fetch the member” you utter with a giggle seeing her abrupt aegyo refusing your idea to go to sleep. She whines with a subtle pout; you are about to go crazy with her unexpected adorableness. But at her core, she feels the most comfortable around you just right after you earnestly taking care of her.

You disregard all her cute attacks and carry on bringing her belongings. You hoped and wished everything unfolded as intended, well it did but not the way you least expected. With her bags in hand and Sullyoon clinging onto your arm looking up to you in admiration, you aren’t complaining but this really shouldn’t be happening as you stand still waiting for the elevator.

“Sullyoona-yah, can you get the keycard” you are not falling for her doe eyes, but at least she follows your order. You started to think is this what you called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)? You don’t remember reading an article stating being clinging was part of the disorder. You take your shoes off, lead the way to their living room. With your eyes squint to resist her charm, you command her prepare for bed and go to sleep but she got better scheme to do. “Manager-nim, want to have ramyeon with me?” she requests cutely.

“Naah, I must go back at get your other members, okay? Plus, I’m not hung-” a growling sound stops disrupt you. Your eyes went wide averting towards your stomach. To make matter worst, you heard a giggle right behind you and you don’t want a whole week having the members replaying the same stories on how loud your stomach growl after being offer have ramyeon. You can’t be too certain Sullyoon be able to keep her mouth shut, she will possess the best sleep of her life reimagine this moment with you.

At last, you stayed for ramyeon with Sullyoon in the living room. “Dig in manager-nim” you side-eyed her as you scanned for potential hidden trick up her sleeve but instead you examined her to be going back to her usual self. Despite her inviting for ramyeon, you did all the cooking right at the coffee table supposedly since she got one hand on hold by a sling. You grab two set of chopstick and bowls, serving her one and one for your hungry belly.

“Jal meokkesseumnida (I will eat well)” both of you said in unison before dig in your respective bowl of ramyeon. You hummed in satisfaction savouring the tasty goodness of ramyeon. It wouldn’t satisfy your hunger fully, but it will enough for now. You both enjoyed your ramyeon in silent, but Sullyoon was the first to break it. “Manager-nim…. why are you always so nice to me?” you are in the middle of your last slurp, but her question made you stop and look at her baffled. You swallowed the last strain of ramyeon and reply to her answer defensively “What do you mean? I treat everyone equally”. Sullyoon elaborate more by adding more details proving her claim. She revealed that her member telling her that they see you treat her a little bit better and to illustrate her points clearer, even she and her other members agree that you can telepathically understand Sullyoon better than anyone else, as if you read her thoroughly. She even lay out scenarios where you read her like a book, the member say that they must tell you exactly what they want then you will bring it to them, Sullyoon on the other hand just by reading her expression and body gesture you as if able to decipher what she needs.

You were left in awestruck by how detailed her accusation is towards you. Your brain couldn’t be able to construct a legitimate excuse to defend yourself as everything that she said was accurate to you. With the amount of evidence essentially exposing you, you might as well be transparent to her and explain your whole side of the stories.

“Look Sullyoon, with all the evidence you lay out to me, you could say I’m biased, I’m not trying to refute that claim because from your guy’s point of view it looks like I’m favouring you”. You accentuate your word carefully as to avoid misunderstanding. You continue your clarification by expressing that Sullyoon looks the most vulnerable out of all the members. You even suggest that she’s unable to open-up to you for the first 3 months of you being their manager. Of course, it would imply that you must somehow adapt to each member on how they supposed to be treated. You realized that you are going off track a little bit too much about defending yourself as you started to see Sullyoon eyes starting to get watery.

Before anything going too out of hand, you grab and grasp her right hand tenderly with both of your hand and reassure her about your stance that she’s not a burden nor a cause of unfair treatment towards her members. “Actually Yoona-yah. Whenever I see you, you remind me of myself back then, shy and timid. You can be hesitant at times, but I know you are doing your best to keep up with the world. I know how exhausting it is to take every burden on your shoulder alone. That’s why I’ll take extra measure to assist you. Don’t compare yourself with other members, you will have your time to shine. Other member like Haewon, I know she will do well on her own in a long run but you, Yoona-yah you just need a little more time and care to build yourself up so you can be on par with others.”

You are in deep stare into her eye’s orb, the tears stream down her cheek almost went unnoticed. You were startle by her sobbing tears that you hand subconsciously wipe her tears with your thumb. “Don’t cry Yoona-yah, Aigoo you are big baby girl aren’t you” you smirk while wiping the remaining tears of comfort.

Cleaning up the dishes as you go, you are flabbergasted that you had to tuck Sullyoon to bed. “Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite” she lightly punches you on the shoulder for treating her like a kid. Well in fact that’s how you view her, a kid who was thrown into society to meet its standard. Well, you once being one of those kids and you don’t want youngsters to suffer the insufferable. Before you turn back, you heard her mutter something. “Do you say something?” you questioned but she only shakes her head. You bid her good night and went straight to the exit.

As the sound of the dorm’s door being locked on the outside, Sullyoon’s heart was racing millions of miles an hour. She whispers to herself something she wished you had heard “Oppa, you paboya (idiot)…………Saranghae (I love you)”.

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You take a deep breath to awaken your senses back. You thought that was a good way to end your day, but you nearly forget about the other members. Your stay with Sullyoon went a bit too late. So, you hoped that you when you arrived at the radio station, they wouldn’t be questioning your delayed arrival. Without wasting any more time, you drive back to the radio station to pick up the girls.

“ Yahhh Oppa, why are you late?” Bae being the first out of the station is asking you sulkily. You pick your own ears to check if it’s still intact due to her loud voice, Bae’s voice being the most obnoxious one neglected the fact that you almost thought she’s the most normal one out of the six member. But you grow to accept her later on. You decided to ignore her completely and open the door for other members as they walk past her.

With everyone on board, you stroll away down under the night sky of Seoul. “Oppa, why did you pick us up so late?” you sigh in defeat as another one asking you the same question, Haewon peaking her head from her seat. But this time, you answer them as it will only make it even more shady if you stayed silent “I had ramyeon before I left Sullyoon before picking you guys up”. Your anxious mind already predicts the subsequent question after you answered, so you gulp your saliva and willingly admit your fate. “Ouh getting TMI (too much information) from oppa, I was expecting you to say the medical check-up was taking too long.” Haewon said, her voice trails with disbelief . Kyujin follow up with an unexpected question  “So you did have ramyeon with Sullyoon?”. The two witty member’s comments had everyone bursting into laughter upon catching you in the act.

Your face went bright red getting fully exposed by the members. You wouldn’t have a calmly ride back to their dorm. You sensed that there’s something going on among the members like a gossip talk among them. You would like to give it more though, but you already fed up with the amount of catastrophe you had to put up today. But your guts unable to detect the fact that there’s a rivalry between who will get your heart, you did not notice Bae being the only one who’s not amused by Kyujin and Haewon act on you as she is saddened by a new revelation about you and Sullyoon.

With everyone going back to their respective resting nest, finally it’s your turn to went back home. Since tomorrow is Nmixx day off, that’s also means your time to compensate lack of sleep on the weekdays. As soon as you step inside your apartment, you waste no time slamming face first into your bed. The bed quickly sucks up your tired body and off to slumber world you go.

The sound of your phone ringing for hours forcing you to wake up. As you squint your eyes to see who’s the caller, it shows on the dialer “Manager-Unnie”. You mutter to yourself “Who the heck would call someone this early”. “Yahhhhh! Y/N -shii, don’t you get my message? Why aren’t you here yet?” and immediately she hungs up the calls. You are puzzled by the unexpected morning scenario, but as soon as you see your phone messenger app was filled with half a thousand unread messages. You are still unaware that one tap of a button to the messenger app would turn your life around completely.

The app was opened, and you still haven’t grasped on what’s going on, you thought maybe just a scammer getting your phone number and spam the heck out of you, you wouldn’t make a deal out of it. You went to Manager-Unnie contact list to check her message. The first message was not a greeting but a news headline link. You starting to feel uncomfortable seeing the link has disturbing wording especially it’s spelling out the group you are taking care of. Adding more horror to you, the picture blurred somewhat showing familiarity about the recent place you have been yesterday.

You tapped on the link, it leads you to Naver News website, as the website starting load its content. Your eyes went wide upon seeing the big red headline saying “NMIXX Male Manager Hurts NMIXX’Fan who’s A Reporter”. Just by reading the main headline, you went to your browser app and see the news feed are filled with your entitled name, “NMIXX Manager” across the screen. You make a call to manager-unnie to analyse the situation. “Palli wah (quick), it would be easier if we discussed this back at the office” She hanged up on you again.

You are frustrated to death waking up into this hell hole, you just want to suffocate yourself with your pillow. Throw you pillow aside, you stared into your ceiling, steadily digesting the uproar you had woken up to. Soon, your breath becoming more stable, and you went to your bathroom to fully wake you up with a splash of cold water shivering your senses to wake. A swig of water cleansing your through, comb your hair to look presentable, donning your jacket and you are ready to face the media allegation.

With van key in hand, you are set to go but you make a quick stop at Ahjussi’s store. “Isn’t today your day off?’ Ahjussi question and pause his daily sweep down the street. “Got an emergency matter to deal with” Ahjussi bid you safe trip before you heading straight to the company.

Cutting to the chase, you are currently running through the company’s corridor making a beeline for the company meeting room. You almost slipped trying to grab a hold of the room door handle. Your stomach immediately sucked in upon everyone arrival making the tension atmosphere tighten. Expressionless and poker face were the only  option for whoever enter this room. All higher up who are under Nmixx management are there too including the members, but you don’t spot Sullyoon anywhere. Maybe she went to the bathroom. You tried to squeeze in to take a seat vacant near the girls and whisper to them about Sullyoon whereabout. “She back at the dorm recovering” manager-unnie respond coldly, not even staring at your way.

You felt like you are missing a memo. Surely, it’s just some misleading article. Just pay the whoever posted the article to take it down, right? Thud! You are jolted by the loud hitting sound at the far side of the room and only having you swallowing your saliva upon acknowledging the presence of the CEO himself. The sound of him flaring his nostrils only making you tremble down to the core and unexpectedly he slides a tablet down the tabletop straight to you. The tablet almost slides off, but you managed to catch it. The CEO recognized how clueless you are upon entering the room, not well informed how serious this issue is.

You tried to be friendly by smiling and nodding at the CEO that you will go ahead look what the tablet screen shows. You saw the familiar headline back at your apartment but as you scrolled more into the article, more dread enveloping your skin. The details of what you missed what got you quivering your legs. You were bewildered by how freaking clever they twist the narrative just from a clip that didn’t do you justice. They only add the part of the clip where grab a hold onto the reporter’s wrist.

That bastard reported makes up stories about how you push the reporter away a bit too harsh. He has the audacity to post his injury on the internet to make him the victim. The video cut making a villain impression of you portraying as a villain, saying unnecessary usage of hard force to push away fans and reporter, even there is a picture of you last night with Sullyoon getting medical check-up and adding description that you hurt the idol and make it seem like you try to silent the idol from voicing out their assault by giving them a treatment. They were never assaulted in the first place, now they put their attack and pinpoint it to you.

You voice out your opinion about this absurdity of the situation it is “Sajang-nim (CEO) this is all just altered stories making me look bad, I have never raised my hand on Nmixx member ever, and I- “. You were cut short as you the CEO interrupts you with a question “How did Sullyoon get hurt initially?” his clasped hand covering his face partially investigating you. You carry on explicate what happened beginning with everything going according to the schedule up until the period where it all happened, after the interview. You said Sullyoon was heading towards the van, but a random reporter grabs her wrist cruelly, so you had to interfere as you saw her getting hurt by the reporter.

You were sceptical, you thought you did great explain yourself to them, but you hear everyone in the room murmuring with each other. “Is that all?” question proposed by the CEO got you feeling agonizing, as he stands up from his seat and make his way to you, you tried to look as confident as possible not being hitched by his demeanour. “I’m opened for any possibility, even I would believe there’s an alien attending the interview yesterday. But…….” The CEO gave his insight on this matter, accumulating to your distress there’s a brief interval before he finished his sentence. “If there’s no evidence, there’s no persuasion” The CEO utter his last word.

You were taken aback by the unexpected turn of event. “Ouh Come on Sajang-nim, you guys just going to believe that bullshit of an article” you sound with clear hearing of everyone in the room. You turn to the members “You girls know me, right? We have been together ever since”, you know it very well that the members know you are innocence but seeing their horrified face only proving how powerless they are even if they spoke out the truth, the media had overpowered the truth once again.

You attempt to seek help from the occupants maybe there’s hope among the darkness “Hey, we can fix this together, we got thi-”. You look back to the sound of opening door, you saw a group of people with a dark blue uniform. One of the guys walk up to you with a handcuff “Mr, you are under arrest for assault. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law” prosecuting you by handcuffing both of your hands.

“Sajang-nim! hey Sajang-nim! what are you doing? Is this some sort of prank? Get off me! I’m not finished talking to the CEO” you squirm left and right unable to come to terms with reality as the policemen drag you out of the company’s building. You are then met with million flashes of camera shutter from dozens of reporters from difference mainstream news agency and plethora of mic shoved in front of you. “Did you hurt Nmixx member?”, “What grudge do you hold onto them?”, “Is it related to Jinni leaving”. Avoidance of camera shutter and mic was the only thing you do up until you step inside at the back seat of a cop car. From that point on, the future looks bleak.

Back at Nmixx dormitory, Sullyoon just woke up from her heart fluttering dream of you. She took it as a sign of good weekend, maybe she could even get you to spend time with her. But soon, her initial thought was replacing with questionable silent atmosphere of their dorm. She wonders where everyone went. Did they go to get grocery? She investigates every room, but no one was there. She went back to the living room and detect the sound of doors opening. She doesn’t suspect anything and saw her members returned from somewhere she isn’t aware off.

As she inspects closer to her member and grasp a situation from what it seems to be the members just arrived from a crime scene. Some have dark spot under their eyes, some have tears spot visible. She inquired about what happened this morning. Upon hearing the news, she thought her aching sharp pain on her wrist is the most painful experienced but that turns out to false after what she just heard from the members. Just a mere thought of not being able to see you again shattered her heart to million pieces. Tears starting to shed to thousands off her eyes. She would gladly trade her arm to be able to see you again.

 She couldn’t had imagined she would wake up into this nightmare. She slams her affected wrist hard into the ground hoping to wake up from this unbearable nightmare but it only making her wheeping in pain and mourn over your disappearance even more. A total horror shot down upon their members faces as they immediately went towards Sullyoon to stop her from hurting herself. They couldn’t stand anymore seeing their loved ones getting hurt after losing you and couldn’t be possible be her next.

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It’s been weeks since the article explode, with Nmixx’s manager arrest and their activity was halted after the controversy. And here you stand in the middle of your cell, staring out into the small opening separating you and the outside world. You would be lying if you couldn’t be any better since your arrest. Honestly, it turns out going a lot better than you expected. No need to deal with early traffic, countless paperwork signage, eyes blinded by paparazzi, and…...even free from controversy.

Life’s great in here but there’s lingering void in your heart that you are longing for, the feeling of loving someone, your little sister and the members that you leaved unintended. They are the only thing that you have left, Jiu; your little sister, Haewon, Kyujin, Jiwoo, Lily, Bae and your dearest Sullyoon. By now, you had truly accept your feelings for her, there’s no faking it anymore. *Bang-Bang-Bang- “Wake up sleepy head……you are free now” You are about to scream with anger when the guards interrupt your daydreaming, but the latter comment got you perplex.

No news, no message, not even a pigeon letter informing you about your released. With your former outfit on, the one clothing before you were dragged to jail. You stand cluelessly outside of the prison gate with no goal in mind. You thought of going back inside with now that you don’t have anywhere to go. On the verge of making the decision, you heard a honking noice. “Hey kid, need a ride?” that one pervy ahjussi from the convenience store is here to fetch you after your discharged.

While you and ahjussi strolled down the highway in his muscle car, you end the silence by inquiring him about your release. Ahjussi simply hand you his phone with an article already opened on the screen. “NMIXX’s Manager Was Never It, It Was The Reporter” you read the title word by word, not repeating the same mistake again like how you act cocky towards the CEO for missing the detail about the whole issue. Just right below the title, a display of a video playing a clip.

The clip basically displays how the incident played out from a different perspective. The video capture from the initial grab of Sullyoon wrist with a clear sign of the reporter pulling her wrist forcefully, up until the second you popped into frame interfering the scene showcasing the need of rough grab onto the reporter’s wrist. “Heheeheh, took them long enough to post the video” you let out a feeble laugh on how ridiculous that you shouldn’t have to serve your time in prison if this video went viral, but your realistic mindset brings you back with optimism. “It must be tough mentally for the user who recorded this to post the video” you mutter to yourself.

On top of that, there’s another clip that catches your attention as the thumbnail used was clearly shows Sullyoon’s face. As you tap onto the video, you’re in for a treat as the seconds progressing through the video. Your heart softens and turns into fragile glass witnessing the content displaying Sullyoon speaking the truth to the media.

 It was clearly shown it was her own initiative knowing the low-quality recording. “Our manager-oppa actually……...he was never the one that was portrayed on the article. Ever since our debut, he always there for us through thick and thin. He can be selfless at times and still got his insecurity about taking care of people, but he is putting his effort at best……...” she proceeded to explain her whole side of the story supposedly being the most affected victim out of this tragedy. Until reaching the moment where you and she went to the hospital to seek medical attention to treat the injury origin from the earlier event. Adding more sorrowful setting in the video, it was self-evident that Sullyoon was stifling her tears wallowing the past for the sake shedding the truth to the world.

For the first time Sullyoon referring you as Oppa was one thing to think about. Her comforting words heals your self-doubting capabilities of managing them was another. The video’s sound cut off suddenly, marking the end of the video. You rub out your eyes to dry out the tears. “Have you got any place to visit?” he probed you for answers. You choose to visit your little sister, Jiu.

Jiu, being one of those people that you are truly cherishes. But unfortunately, she got chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). You aren’t an intellectual in diseases but after reading a few articles of it. You are only saddened by it fully understand how unfortunate Jiu’s condition is. Here is the analogy, normally you’re tired, you take a rest, you got better but for these patients they get tired, they take a rest, and they are still tired. Most hurting part about it, Jiu’s smile will always be carved on her face whenever you visited her.

The journey to the hospital where your sister hospitalised was quiet, with you sitting silently contemplating your current situation. The pervy ahjussi was only a nickname for him from the first impression of him. When you first moved into your current apartment now, as you open the door, the sight of him ducking with a bra attached to his face makes a terror out of you. It was a pain in the arse for him to explain himself, but it got solved soon later. Apparently, he was the landlord wanting to check the water pump to your apartment but still that doesn’t explain the bra part.

Soon after knowing him even more, he doesn’t appear to be of what your first impression thinks of him. Yes, he’s the one been there for you at your lowest, betrayed by your fake friends, the genuine one taking his own way to the after world, news of your sister had to be transferred to another hospital due to the lack of service of the former hospital as your sister illness getting more severe. Everything went downhill for that whole week.

It was raining that day; you embrace the coldness of rainwater soaking you in waiting hypothermia to put a full stop of your life voyage. It all change when the drunk ahjussi throwing tantrum you to drink with him because he needs a drinking buddy. You got more confused at a drunk a person taking walk outside in the rain, being drunk should be enough reason to. Entering a new day, you regret drinking with ahjussi as you got a massive hangover. Both of you went to their respective toilet bowl and a sink to ease up the hangover. Who would have known a middle-aged man acting childish to annoy you would extend your lifeline.

Reminiscing the past got you company for the whole car ride. Upon arriving, you inform the receptionist about your presence before strolling down to her room. You asked ahjussi beforehand to stop by a store to buy some flowers and her favourite snack, tteokbokki.

As you look through the glass door of her room, you spot a figure that’s not matching with any of your possible ideas. Wears a black hoodie with a black cap on. Doesn’t look like a nurse here. You don’t remember having an extra sibling or relative. Is it Jiu’s friends? She never tells you about them, maybe she a got a new one during your time in prison? You set the final thought as the possible answer. But you are opened for any possibilities as you heighten your alertness as there’s couldn’t be possible, she got herself a boyfriends

You slide the door opened, attracting all occupant’s attention to you. As Jiu’s eyes set to you, she waved cheerly to you transitioning your facial expression from serious to friendly. Jiu was informed earlier about your visit by the nurse through Ahjussi contact. You saw the mysterious figure turn his face to see whom Jiu’s waving to, but he quickly turns back. You catch a glimpse of his side profile but can’t construct an image who might this be.

“Who is this Jiu-yah?” you inquire Jiu while you cautiously glance at the unknown man’s face, but the man keeps averting his face from you. “She’s been visiting me while you were serving time” you look at Jiu with question mark planted on your face. “She?’ you wide eyed you sister and emphasized the word pronunciation intricately upon this new disclosure. “Yoona-yah, don’t be shy, this is my brother” Jiu nudge Sullyoon’s shoulder a bit gesturing her to face you properly.

“Anyeonghaseyo manager-nim” Sullyoon lightly bow in courtesy and weakly smiled at you after she pulls down her hoodie. You got millions of questions running in your heads upon seeing Sullyoon visiting your sister

After a solid hour of connecting the dots, finally everyone is on the same page. Clearly during your imprisonment, Sullyoon decided to visit your sister as she feels like it’s a right thing to do. You are not the only one having guilt rotting you alive, Sullyoon also felt the same way towards your sister especially, having your loved one wrongly accuse because one’s unable to do anything in their power to save them. With the help of manager-unnie, she could track where your sister hospitalised.

Ever since then, Sullyoon and Jiu were so in tune together, even if it’s only a couple of visits but every meeting mends her heart as she expressed out to Jiu like you were in front of her. While Nmixx schedule suspended and everyone were so stressed handling the issue, Sullyoon able to find tranquillity in the midst of this controversy by visiting Jiu in her free time. Every time Sullyoon visit your sister, she talks a lot about you, in which you aren’t conscious about. Jiu has a knack for digging through people emotion, mind controlling everyone to spill a little too much information. She kind of have a plan as she heard you are going to visit her at the same time with Sullyoon

“Oppa, what are you going to do now? you’re free” Jiu raise a question to you, unconsciously waking you up from staring a little too much to Sullyoon, hitting you back to reality now that you are yet again starting from zero. Sullyoon look at you with anticipation expecting an answer that align with what she hoped for. “I’m not too sure, probably check on Ahjussi about any job vacancy at his convenience store” you respond naively, earning a jab at your torso from Jiu. “What was that for?” you rub the area of Jiu’s jab quite shock by her random attack. “Just because” Jiu half-heartedly displays her fake smile with a scowling amber seeing your air-headed mindset. “Yoona-yah, you guys got a new manager?” Sullyoon shake head in denial.

In front of Jiu, presented two people who are unaware of their mutual affection. Jiu’s trying to play cupid with you two but the way you react mindlessly to the question earlier, makes her sighing with hopeless. “Alright then, I need to go to the toilet, so I don’t think I need to see you guys off, Is that alright?” Jiu clap her hand indicating you and Sullyoon can leave. She hopes that you guys can work this off on your own.

As the three of you walk out, “Bye guys” Jiu bid off cutely before turning around going the opposite way to the toilet. With both you and Sullyoon left alone, awkward atmosphere ensued. In your head, you amused how drastically energetic Jiu had been, you fully understand her condition as one can’t possibly exert themselves to much or they will be drained easily. Truthfully, having Sullyoon giving her occasional visit is good for her recovery in terms of emotional scale. Sullyoon on the other hand went haywire. She never thought she would see you this early after your imprisonment. Maybe at least she expected you to be freed from the charges but not this early after an anonymous video was uploaded online in which it clear out all of the injustice that had happened.

“Has your wrist fully healed yet?” your sudden question diverts her consciousness back, instantly making eye contact with you. You already know the answer as she’s now not constrained to a sling anymore, but you want to hear her soothing voice reply as it would put you more at ease. “It’s been only a week after I removed my sling, so far I can move my wrist around, even the bruise patch is gone” she showed you her wrist that’s been fully recovered returning her fair white skin.

Soon enough, both of you walk together mindlessly, cherishing each other company but reluctant to initiate a conversation. You look around you, empty and tranquil space of open-air area of the hospital encourage you to engage in a small talk with her. “How’s the members doing back at the dorm?” both of you converse with each other at a gentle pace, enjoying the moment. She calmly replies to you stating that the girls recover far better than expected after the incident. She goes on how the members cope with criticism and pressure from the media, reappearance of false accusation of the members kicking Jinni out of the group. There is some instances where Jiwoo was too scared to even go out of her room, locking herself up and many more countless nights crying, exhausting mentally by the insults and isolating themselves from the outside world. You regain solace again knowing the company doing their job rehabilitate the girls. Unluckily, you didn’t ask how she cope her problem considering she had cried countless night missing you so much.

“……. It was really a rough week, but I really wished someone was there to lend their shoulder when we are at our lowest” Sullyoon’s eyes are on you, she tries to push her luck to gauge your response, hoping it relates to you reuniting with the group again……. reuniting with her. You take a nervous deep breath, pretending to ignore her indirect comment towards you. You would be lying that you wouldn’t want to reconcile with them. In the matter of fact, you want to, you need to, but after listening of what the girls had gone through, you can’t fathom at the assumption of you retaking the position as their manager again without a promise that their safety is guaranteed. You done hurting people like how you have hurt your parent heart for being incompetent. Before you know it, nature had taken their lives before you can ask them for forgiveness.

You were so in dazed with your thought that you didn’t notice Sullyoon stop her track. As you feel an empty space right beside you, you look over your shoulder and see Sullyoon looking at you with a sulk as if she’s saying you are ignoring her. You grin, reliving the image of Sullyoon that you used to love but it’s time to let her go. You walk back to her in gentle pace. And as you stand in front of her, you patted her head and say “Yoona-yah………it’s okay, you can take care of yourself now”.

--------------------------------------

5 years after.

“Sullyoon-sunbaenim (senior), how did you guy able to break the 7-year curse? and still maintained as a 6-membered group, and what makes you guys want to renew your contract?” Sullyoon lightly chuckle, seeing her junior getting nudge by her co-partner for asking to many questions in a single sentence. “Well actually, it’s a long story so I hope I can make you guys understand in a brief explanation…….”. She promptly continues her speech act stating the group secret overcoming the curse which is deep understanding to one another. Deep bond comes from extensive communication among the members, they would bicker over little things but communicate through small misunderstanding built into big network of empathy to each other. Additional point, the group made noteworthy changes after the big conflict 5 years ago,  Truly reinforced their capability to strive for the future. She ends her answer with a small bow.

Under the span of 5 years, a lot of unforgettable achievements accomplish by Nmixx. For instance, winning an award as The Song of the Year categories under The Mnet Asian Music Awards (MAMA) on their latest comeback and success continues with reaching new audience at the Billboard Music Awards and was proposed as one in the Top Duo/Group category. Focusing on more individual member, every member had done their solo debut. Presenting each respective member’s distinct colour including Sullyoon. Today marking her first solo comeback attaining her first win on Music Bank Show.

“Sullyoon-shii, after this magazine photoshoot, we will end with a fan sign event” Her private manager informed her for the upcoming schedule. She hummed in respond before he leaves her alone in the dressing room. She takes a quick moment looking at herself in the mirror tracing back of fond memories up until now. Ever since then, Sullyoon developed into more confident and independent women then she is. Her dedicated fan would discover that she’s becoming more charming than ever contrasting from her old wary and shy behaviour.

She got a call from her stone-cold manager “Sullyoon-shii, are you still in the dressing room? We need to move to the photoshoot set”. Sullyoon answer coldly before packing up her purse and finish her last two schedule. However, even if she did turn for the better, she prefers her old self, composed and reserved demeanour. In her member’s eyes, she’s still Sullyoon who opted to stay indoors and play games all day. Her on-stage and off-stage aura was so difference to the point where the members joke about her being another whole new person when she’s on-stage.

After the recovery of the tragedy 5 years ago,  manager-unnie was appointed as the main manager and got them a new assistant to aid her side. The new assistant who is now her temporary private manager is supervising her schedule strictly and professionally. Sullyoon only had one last schedule to go through.  “Huhhhhhhh, when will this end? I just want to go back home and sleep” Sullyoon whined in frustration leaning on her right shoulder on top of the vanity table. With eyes closed, she breath steadily trying to regain her composure after 10 hours schedule with barely any breaks.

As she opens her eyes, she sees her left wrist recalling her past memories. She sorts of wished that there’s more significant trace to preserve her memories of you. The only remembrance she had of you is her unforgettable wrist pain still fresh in her mind till this day. A ringing sound from across the room got her senses heightened, breaking her out of her mental imagery. She stands up slouching to get the phone call from her purse thrown to the opposite side of the room as she enters the room earlier in annoyance of her pack time schedule.

She takes out her phone and see the screen display the dialler’s name “Manager-unnie”. She takes the call calmly “Anyeong, what is it Unnie?”. “Ouh Yoona-yah, there’s some adjustment with manager time shift, it looks like my assistant had to went back to take care of other group itineraries, don’t worry we already got you covered on manager replacement, there will be a new manager on your way to take care of you starting today, Okay”. Before she can respond, manager-unnie hung up on her before she could ask for her new manager’s name. She sighs in disappointment but quickly regain her emotion at a thought of tricking the new manager to skip the last schedule so she can head straight back home early.

A knocking sound of the dressing room’s door can be heard signaling the new manager has arrived, “Wait for a moment” Sullyoon rapidly pack up her belongings to execute her plan. She maybe got a little too carried away of how thrilled this is going to work, taking advantage of newcomer for her own benefit. With her belongings in hand, she scrambles away towards the door. As she’s about to reach the doorknob, the door swings open hitting her in the face.

She lands butt first on the floor, making her flinch in pain “Ouch, can’t you wait outside instead”. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you” the familiarity of the voice got her nerves sending shivers throughout her body. She looks up towards the source of the voice, as her eye regaining its focus. You take her hand in yours helping her to stand up. Sullyoon gasped in shocked upon recognizing the figure she misses the most. “Y/N oppa?”.  

-The end-

[darlingshane]

Secret Ingredient / Part II

Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: Things are looking up for Michael. He has great hopes of making this work, and all he wants is to spend the rest of his life with you and Rhys. While you're still apprehensive about certain aspects of your relationship, there's nothing you'd love more than to figure it all out with him.

CW: 18+, explicit, smut, vaginal sex, shower sex, fluff, friends to lovers, complicated relationships, some angst.

Word Count: 2.4k

— Links: First Part // AO3.

A/N: Richie makes a guest appearance to question all of Michael's choices.

Six months later…

There’s nothing that hypes Michael more right now than going home after closing The Beef. Getting to hang out with you and squeeze some time with your baby when he’s awake has become the highlight of his day that he looks forward to every single night.

He still brings you food, or cooks you something when he gets home. Even if you don’t live together yet, the spark is there and has grown far brighter than he could ever imagine since you started dating, and he has no doubt it’ll happen at some point

His life was drastically changed that moment he stumbled onto you in the hallway when you moved into his building with Rhys in tow.

He didn’t know that day that you were exactly what he needed. It took him away from that familiar path that it was leading him to dangerous places and guided him toward a nice clearing instead.

Though he still struggles with a lot of shit about the business, he’s gained some leeway, and has learned there’s a better way of handling those issues. He’s also come to accept that if he wants to be in your life, he needs to follow through with his decisions. In both– business and life. Even if that means asking for help, which it doesn’t come naturally for him.

You are the biggest inspiration and supporter he has right now. He’s taken suggestions directly from you to improve the shop, like giving customers pre-order options, and offering delivery. It’s a work in progress, but he has hope it’ll work out.

Besides all that, watching you raise Rhys on your own in the past six months gave him the most courage to take that leap forward. Even if it was fucking scary. Even if there are still a few old demons he has to fight every night before closing his eyes.

It all has put him in a better mood too. People have noticed. He’s also gotten rid of a few bad habits and taken up jogging in the morning, before the city wakes up. Sometimes he takes Rhys with him. Usually in his stroller but sometimes the baby would refuse to let go of his arms and would have to use a carrier and trade his jog for a walk. He’s shown him all his favorite places around the city, the same places he’s taken you to as well. They sit at the dog park and look at the dogs play cause Rhys is completely taken away with them. It’s the first thing he’s shown a real interest in, besides mom of course. The baby would spread his arms and try calling to them with his cute unintelligible babble.

He had never seen himself as a dad until now. It was never on his plans. Figure his family was fucked enough that there was no need to bring more Berzattos into the world. But getting to know Rhys, care for him, watching grown and love him as much as he loves you has made him consider that maybe there’s still hope yet. He just has to make sure of not repeating all those same mistakes that haunt his past.

While everyone cleans up their station, Michael sits at his desk and goes over today's numbers before going home. For a change, they're not as bad as a year ago, which is something to take into account. Perhaps in a couple of months he’d be able to hire a couple of new guys to run deliveries. He keeps that pinned for when the right time comes.

Once he's done in the office, he wishes everyone goodnight as they part home.

When the lights are off and doors locked, he heads out last with Richie by his side, who needs a ride home.

Cousin lights up a cigarette before getting into the car while Michael unlocks the doors and slides into the driver's seat. On the passenger side, on the floor mat, rests a bag of groceries and a pack of diapers he left there earlier that he now moves to the backseat to make room for Richie.

“Mama's got you running errands like an asshole again,” Richie taunts, settling on his seat as Michael starts the engine.

“She ain't. I offered.” He scoffs. “What is it to you? Why are you so concerned about what I do?”

“I’m just looking out for you, Cousin.”

“How? How are you looking out for me? All you’ve done is question and ridicule everything I do since I told you about her.”

“Because she’s using you. She has no baby daddy, and she’s just latched onto the first schmuck she met cause raising a baby is expensive.”

Michael shakes that frustration with a sharp tilt of his head as he veers the car out of the lot.

It’s not the first time he’s said something like that, but it’s starting to rub him the wrong way to see Richie thinking he knows better than him.

“What? You think she’s after my money now?” he can’t help but scoff. “She probably has more saved than you and me put together. Why are you being a fucking dick about it?”

“I don’t know… I just can’t wrap my head around you settling down and raising someone else’s baby. Now look at you, you don’t smoke, you don't drink, you don’t wanna hang out… it’s like you’re a totally different person.”

“Well, maybe that’s not a bad thing. It's called growing up. You should look it up, Cousin.”

“If she’s so important to you why haven’t you introduced her to the rest of the family, huh? Are you embarrassed of us or something? The only times you’ve brought her to the shop is when I wasn’t there. She’s met Tina, and Ebra and Gary… are the rest of us not worthy of her presence?”

“It’s not like that. We’re still trying to figure out how to do this. You’ll meet her when the time is right. And this is the last time we're having this conversation. I’m tired of you busting my balls every chance you get. I know what I’m doing.”

He ends that conversation hoping that his friend won’t bring that up again. As much as Richie has tried to convince him otherwise, there’s no doubt in Michael's heart that this is what he wants– just to be a part of your life.

After placing the bags on the counter, he goes around the apartment to find Rhys already sleeping in his crib. He has to fight the urge to pick him up and cuddle him, but he’d probably get to that in a couple of hours when he stirs awake in the middle of the night. So he just dips his head to print a gentle kiss on his forehead.

You’re taking a shower and when he sees the silhouette of your bare body behind the frosted glass he can't fight the need of having you in his hands.

He announces himself with a knock and watches your head poke out from the side of the sliding glass as he starts taking off his clothes.

“Hey, bear,” your face beams, beautifully covered on water beads.

“Hey, mind if I join you?”

“I’m almost done but come in if you want.”

He rushes out of his jeans and underwear, leaving his pile of clothes to pool by the sink to set his feet in the shower. From behind, he slides his palms along your sides to hug your torso as he prints a string of kisses along your neck and shoulders while you finish rinsing your body.

“How was your day, mama bear?”

“Good, they green-lit my project. We're starting next week.”

“That's my girl. You're gonna do great. We should do something to celebrate.”

“Aww, thank you.” Glancing over your shoulder, you tuck your arm back to caress his nape. “How's yours?”

“Same old, same old.”

“You always said that.”

“No. It was okay. It's just not as good as I'm with you.”

“Hm,” your lips curve up as they capture a soft kiss from his silver tongue.

“Say, you think we have time for a celebration quickie before the little bear wakes up?”

“He went down five minutes ago so we probably have like ten minutes tops.”

“That's more than enough for me,” his wandering hand travels down your abdomen toward your mound. “Do you wanna?”

Licking your lips, you nod your head as you wave your ass back against his dick that quickly jumps awake at the friction. It doesn't take you long to feel him swell to perfection. Same in your end. It took you a few months to get comfortable having sex with him but once you started you couldn't ever have enough of him. Feeling utterly wanted by Michael arouses you more than his fingers rounding your clit that makes your walls melt.

Once you're ready, you brace your hands on the tiled wall, bending slightly so he can properly slip into you from behind. The warm shower spray pours nicely on your back as Michael slips inside you. His hardness throbs against your walks when he’s fully sheathed inside. As he leans forwards to mouth at your neck, he blocks the spray of water. Your skin buzzes when his teeth scrape the surface of your skin as his hips start gaining some speed.

Your breath hitches, as he pounds your ass with dedicated passion. You move with him as the temperature rises, letting one of his hands tenderly massage your breasts as the other handles your clit as rough as his hips slam against you.

“You like it like that, sweetheart?” He sucks your earlobe between his lips.

“Fuck yeah.”

It’s quick, and hot, and utterly satisfying to end the day with him pushing inside you until you both come undone.

Allowing Michael to weave into your life so seamlessly fast wasn’t a decision you took lightly. Having a new little person to care for and at the same time figure out your feelings for Michael was quite challenging, to say the least. Scary comes to mind too if you really think about it. It took you a few months to warm up to the idea, but ultimately it was Michael’s unwavering attitude that put you more at ease. He was there from the get-go. He’s helped you in ways no one ever did. You never had to ask, he’d always show up, day after day. Seeing him caring for Rhys just as much really warmed you up to the idea that there might be some good guys yet. And though you’re aware he’s not perfect, he has one of the biggest hearts you’ve ever come across. He makes you feel loved and supported, always finds new ways to make you laugh but more importantly he’s won his place in your baby’s heart as well. Rhys adores him as much as you do. Sometimes it feels like even more. His little face lights up brightly when he sees Michael more than anyone. So, in a way it was watching them bond the thing that made you welcome him deeper into your life.

There are still a few things you have some reservations about, like moving in together. Though he’s been spending more and more time at your place in the past few weeks, and has been proven to be a good partner, making it official still makes you a little wary.

It doesn’t stop him from trying… Every other week, he’d suggest that maybe it is time to take the next step. It scares you how willing he is to do that, and it worries you that he might have not mulled it over enough. There are a lot of things that could potentially go wrong, and if it was just you, you’d jump right in, eyes closed. The key here is Rhys. Your son already has a deadbeat dad who went as far as signing away his parental rights. You don’t ever wanna give anyone the chance to break your baby’s heart like that ever again. No matter how much Michael loves the both of you, you need to be sure that if anything happens between you two, this is not going to affect Rhys.

Perhaps it’s the fact that you're in a good mood today or the way he’s holding the baby in his chest with both making eyes at you that you can’t resist but give in a little after dinner.

“What was that Rye Bread?” He says after the baby makes an undistinguishable noise behind his pacifier. “Oh, he says he’s taken a vote and that I should move in.”

“He didn’t say that,” you scoff, shaking your head. “He probably said– it’s time for a diaper change, and it should be you the one to deal with it for being so damn annoying.”

“Those are a lot of words for a none-talking baby.” You both laugh. “C’mon, I know you want to, sweetheart.” He changes voices to a funny pitch tone pretending it is Rhys talking then. “Yeah, mommy. Let Mikey move in. I need a buddy to play games and watch TV. Please?”

You can swear you’ve never met anyone crazier than Michael. Anyone in their right mind would take heed of a situation like this or just downright bolt in the other direction.

“Look, I have a lot of faults, but I promise if for some reason this doesn’t work, I’d never stop caring about this little guy here. I know that’s something that you’re really worried about.”

“Would you be willing to put that in writing? Officially?”

“Anytime. Where do I have to sign?”

“You’re crazy,” you shake your head, amused.

“Pretty crazy about you.” he smiles with his whole face. “This is the last time I’ll ask. What do you say? Do you want me to move in?”

“Okay.”

It feels easy to say and hard to admit that deep down–

This is what you always wanted.

[badwitch-if]

OG DEMO + AU DEMO

**a note about the demo that won the vote**

Magic is all too real and witches reign supreme.

This is a story of excess & indulgence. Luxury & depravity. Lust & love. Horror & debauchery. 

But mostly it's a story of rediscovering your inner witch. 

Bad Witch is set in a matriarchal, gothic universe eerily similar to our own, where magic runs the world. And at its core, it is a love letter to the incredibly strong and vibrant friendships that we forge in our youth, and how they ultimately shape the people we become.

Witxhes dominate the upper echelons of society, and magic has seeped into every facet of day-to-day life, for witches and humans alike. Humans were relegated to a lower class of living and as witches tend to be quite opulent & over indulgent [and more often than not revelling in their own personal vices], the bougie Season of the Witch began. Witching Society flourished and quickly overtook over the world, trickling down to influence even those without magic.

SO WILL YOU BE A BAD WITCH, OR A GOOD WITCH?

You were born to one of the most ancient and thus, important witching families; the only child of a famous mother and an even more infamous grandmother. Your ancestors were among the very first witches to lead the revolution, desperate to create a world where their children would never again die by human hands.

Your childhood was rather lonely and spent under the tutelage of the worlds best witches and academics, whilst your mother did her best to ignore your existence whenever it didn’t directly benefit her. And so years later you would often joke that your life really began once you were accepted into Ariadne Academy, the premiere school for exceptionally gifted Witxhes.

You were placed in a coven with eight of your peers; girls and boys who would quickly become your family, until it was almost like you couldn’t remember a time before them. They shared your all-consuming hunger for magic and knowledge and experiences, traits that made your coven [nicknamed the Silverlakers] an unstoppable force within the Demonhall arena. Everything was going so perfectly until it suddenly burned down around you, leaving your coven a husk of its former self.

Aaand this is currently where the stories splinter off.

OG DEMO — In the OG demo, your coven is still somewhat intact. MC’s feelings towards them may or may not have changed, but on the whole, the Silverlakers are still functioning as the overachieving badasses they were at the academy. They’re still your best friends, your soulmates, your lovers. You love them and they most definitely love you — it’s just one big lovefest. 

As a master alchemist you tediously work through trials of your newest potion while still coasting off the success of your last serum, the wildly popular Moon Juice. The story focuses on the unnaturally strong bond that exists between the remaining Silverlakers, and the powerful magic you’ve wrought because of that. The incredibly deep but complicated friendships that you built are maintained to this day, and still just as co-dependent... or have they been making you feel stifled or claustrophobic? 

You can choose how your relationship with Ash progressed post-breakup. Was it messy and dramatic, or did you keep going back to them, again and again? Have you and Ori been just the bestest friends all this time, or have things gotten a bit awkward?

AU DEMO — In the AU demo, your coven was broken following the loss of one of your own. You all went your own ways and everything that you shared was left by the wayside. You’ve spent the better part of a decade running away from your Silver Lake family, the only real home you ever knew. But now, against all of your better judgements, your returning to York. Only for a few days, of course. A couple weeks, tops. 

You haven’t returned since you absconded after graduation, when you used a somewhat controversial but entirely contrived excuse for your disappearance. And as if The Fates themselves had seen to it, you once again find yourself thrown together with the other witches formerly known as Silverlakers. Their reactions to your return are not at all what you had expected, and you’re left second-guessing what actually happened all those years ago.

No matter how deep of a rift was left between your coven, Ori was the one who really refused to give up on you. In their very unique way, they practically strong-armed you into maintaining some kind of contact. Of all your former covenmates, you are hands down closest to Ori. Your breakup with Ash, no matter how it was done, was shocking and cut deep. You can choose whether to stand by your past actions or try to make amends with your first love. 

Both the OG & AU stories will feature opportunities to reconnect with: the former childhood friend turned academy rival; as well as the young professor from your university years. And despite their shorter and more mysterious descriptions, they are both main RO’s, along with Ash & Ori.

Will you try to repair the broken connections plaguing your coven, or forge a brand new path? Will you decide to confront the nightmares of your past face on in the Demonhall arena, or continue to ignore the literal demons that chase you?

TW/CW: violent & horrific imagery; explicit language; explicit sex scenes (with options to fade to black); misandry (within context of the story); mentions of blood/gore; child abuse (past tense against MC); very questionable magic usage; frequent scenes where NPCs are intoxicated, under the spell of drugs or magic, as well as just as many options for MC to imbibe; elder abuse; voluntary magical torture

~ Fully customisable character — you can currently play as a woman, man, or non-binary person; straight, gay, or bisexual. Customise your character's personality, style and how they reacted in major moments of their life leading up to present events,

~ Choose how to react to your current coven dynamics — fight to save your soulmates & strengthen your long-established bonds, or play around on greener pastures with other witches

~Experience the Witch's Journey through the Major Arcana – but will your MC make it to the final tarot reading?

~ Meet your familiar and decide which form it takes, with your familiar's animal impacting the story

~ Set up a cozy, witchy corner to call your own! A few options include a reclaimed lighthouse, luxurious penthouse in the sky, and a secluded cabin in the woods

~ Continue to cross sexual conquests off your list of Lovers to Bed, or get serious and pursue a more serious connection. There are currently 4.5 love interests [all gender variable] as well as an optional poly route. I'm also considering bringing back a character who was cut from the OG story... TBD!

~ Decide what happened to MC's relationship with Ash, in the years since graduation. Have they drifted apart while leading separate lives, or have they been on-and-off for the better part of a decade?

~ Get answers & closure by chasing down ghosts from your past. Give yourself over to the demons in your past, or fight to find a balance between your life and the monsters at the gate.

~ Explore the ever-changing hellscapes of Demonhall and confront your demons, or keep those traumatic memories in the past where they belong

~ But above all else, choose which path your character takes going forward. Chase your dreams and loves, or turn your back, light it up & watch the world burn around you.

During your time at Ariadne Academy, rumours swirled nonstop about your coven.

You got along too well.

You loved each other too hard.

Some people said you were a bunch of weirdos, while others whispered [a little too loudly] that all of your parents had conspired together, bribing the Witches Council to put you all together in one coven. But back then you couldn't give a shit about anyone or anything outside your Silver Lake home.

You found your first love within your coven, as well as seven other soulmates. And for a long time, that was all you needed.

☆ Elijah Akos {m}

☆ Suki Aoki {f}

♡ Aisling Casablanca {f} // Asher Casablanca {m}

♡ Oriana Helyr {f} // Orion Helyr {m}

☆ Belladonna Humphrey {f}

☆ Endora Stills {f}

☆ Hazel Trout {f} — Deceased

☆ Bren Wylder {nb}

The grandiose and horrifying Demonhall is a favourite pastime for Witches young and old. Two opposing covens enter the arena (or as it's lovingly called by fans, the Demon Dome) and are sealed inside. Usually a timer is set for 6 hours, but some exhibition games run a 'last Witch standing' simulator, that can go on for days. 

At the core of every Demonhall arena lies it's true power, a demonstone. The crystalized heart of a demon powers and creates unique and dangerous environments for covens to progress through. Whether it's a futuristic, neon playground; the dilapidated ruins of Titans; or a much too lifelike version of the floor is lava, each unique setting has been randomly and lovingly crafted by the demonstone. 

Just as each demon is unique and come with their specific set of baggage challenges, so do their corresponding arenas. Some are more manipulative in luring you into their traps, while others don't waste time in throwing everything they've got at you.

The object of the game, quite simply, is to challenge & toss opposing witches out of the match, using whatever spells & curses, or hexes & charms you keep in your arsenal. All while avoiding the real terror of the Demonhall, the demon itself.

For over a decade, your life revolved around Demonhall. You were the Lead for your coven, meaning you often bore the brunt of whatever the demonstone was hurtling at you. Your Silver Lake coven dominated the amateur Demonhall circuit for the better part of a decade. You and your covemates were elevated to a level of celebrity that few others at Ariadne Academy could relate to, as you were splashed across dozens of magazine covers before you were 18.

You planned your life around your obsession and love of the game, and as your graduation approached, you fielded dozens of offers to play for top-tier professional teams. But then... the unexpected happened during a match and you lost a member of your coven.

☆The First Love☆ ...& Ash's playlist

Aisling Casablanca {f} // Asher Casablanca {m}, 31

Ash was your first love. You dated for several years during your time at Ariadne Academy. You grew up together in your Silver Lake cottage and soon after you met, you found it hard to deny your teenage crush. 

You bonded over a mutual (rather mad) obsession with Demonhall, and it didn't take long for that bond to translate onto the arena. The Silver Lake Demonhall coven dominated the competition, thanks in large part to the connection you shared with Ash.

You made plans together to follow your passions after graduation, and even courted the interest of several top-tier professional clubs. They wanted you both, and were willing to restructure their teams around you & Ash.

But life happened, and you surprised everyone when you suddenly broke things off with Ash and the Demonhall teams. Instead you followed a secondary love and traveled across the world in pursuit of cryptozoological mysteries. 

In the decade that you've been working out in the field, Ash has been named Demonhall MVP for three years in a row. Their legions of adoring fans have only multiplied. Is there room for you in their life nowadays, or is it truly too late?

☆The Best Friend☆ ...& Ori's playlist

Oriana Helyr {f} // Orion Helyr {m}, 30

Ori has been your longest and closest friend. No matter what your relationship was like with the rest of the coven, you could always count on Ori having your back. And sometimes being a shoulder to cry on, during the rockier parts of your relationship with Ash. In a way, it's always felt like the three of you had your own kind of connection, but at times, that could put Ori in the middle of your shit with Ash.

Ori is a highly sought after Master Architect, one of only two in the country. They’re instrumental to the buildings integrity and the future success of it’s residences. Ori often spends weeks onsite, crafting intricate enchantments around the bones of the structure, ensuring not only structural safety but doing everything in their power to position them for prosperity.

There's never been any fronts or facades with Ori, just transparent (sometimes brutal) honesty. You've never had to pretend around them and you might even be your truest self when you're with them. And then the two of you would stay up all night, talking and watching movies, and polishing off copious amounts of alcohol. In fact, many of those nights ended up serving as inspiration for your new experimental potion, a cure-all hangover draught.

In the years since the academy, Ori has tracked you down across the globe too many times to count. It always seemed like they had some magical way of knowing when your life was going to shit and they'd spontaneously turn up with boxes of wine & chocolate, immediately taking over your kitchen to cook up something utterly delicious

☆The Lifelong Rival☆ ...& Poe's playlist

Viridian ‘Poe’ Black {f/m}, 31

Poe was one of your very first friends, long before the academy. Your mothers ran in the same high society circles and so you were often left to your own devices. For Poe that usually meant running off into the woods to scout for berries and beasts, or tirelessly watching or reading up on anything to do with Demonhall. And in fact decades later, you've still never met anyone as obsessed with the game as them. Even as a kid, Poe was haughty and overtly snobby; they always knew exactly what and who they liked, and rarely strayed outside the lines.

But for some reason or another, you were someone they happily tolerated and actually seemed to like. Much to their delight their Demonhall fanaticism eventually infected you as well, and you spent countless hours debating the various forms, methods, and positions of the beautiful but deadly game. The two of you would often daydream about your future life at Ariadne Academy, and their eyes lit up with unabashed glee when they spoke of how together, you would bring about a new era of Demonhall. But then came the week before coven placements. And even after all of their extensive testing, you & Poe weren't placed together.

After that Poe very rarely spoke to you and altogether stopped responding to your many messages over the years, and just like that, the delicate friendship you once shared was snuffed out. And while they'd always been sarcastic and biting, that had rarely been directed towards you. Until you were put in competition, both academically and in the Demonhall arena, and then you were introduced to an entirely different side of Poe. The one that knew your weaknesses and just when to exploit them, who seemed to take a particular happiness from your defeat.

☆The One That Got Away☆

Julia St. James {f} // Julian St. James {m}

Jules is the youngest of nine children and grew up in Bilbao, Spain. They were generally spoiled as a child, doted on by all of their siblings, aunts and uncles. They could never want for tutors or toys or courtiers, but it was all rather tiresome.

They would later travel the continent as a young apprentice of a new philosophy, but they were never alone; always in the company of their cousins, Vix and Maz. Jules developed a deep appreciation for the fine arts and very delicious things during this time away from home.

Jules has now perfected the balancing act, living in both worlds. They work tirelessly as a professor of Theological Witchcraft but lately they've been feeling the pull to leave the classroom and get back out into the world.

☆ ... ☆

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (Part 1) - Kaz Brekker x reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names) Genre: modern AU, slow burn word count: 9.3k notes: please let me know what you think <3

Kaz Brekker studied the girl sitting uncomfortably in front of him. She kept shifting in her seat, her eyes darting around the room. Kaz tried to gather his thoughts, cursing himself for the drunk texts he had sent the previous night. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he was as uncomfortable as she was. He sighed, repeating to himself, "For Inej." He didn't care about this girl, didn't know her, didn't want to know her—he was doing this for Inej.

The girl's phone buzzed again. "Sorry, my friends are scared that you're going to kill me and asked me to send texts every three minutes or they'll call the police," she murmured, typing quickly.

Kaz raised an eyebrow, wondering what he had gotten himself into. He knew he had to say something. "For Inej," he reminded himself once more. "You are a prostitute," he blurted out. Who starts a conversation like that?

"Yep," the girl nodded, a tight smile on her lips.

"Who do you work for?"

"No one, it's, uh, really a selected clientele, let's say. I work with my roommates."

Kaz nodded, avoiding her gaze. He shouldn't be ashamed; she was no one. "I have a girlfriend—"

"Oh, the Wraith? I watch all of her videos. She's gorgeous. Sorry, I'll let you speak," she added quickly, noticing the annoyance on his face.

His last encounter with Inej played in his mind—how she had kissed him and he had run away, throwing up in the street. He shook his head. He could do this. He had to. "I have an issue. I can't touch people. It makes me physically sick, and I have to overcome it. For her," he said, all in one breath.

The girl frowned, her gaze shifting to his gloved hands. "So what do you want from me?"

"I want to get used to skin," he said, looking up at the ceiling, silently asking Ghezen to take him out of his misery. "She'll be back in a few months, and I would like to show her some progress."

"I'm sure you don't want her to know about this arrangement," the girl said slowly.

"No, exactly."

The girl looked around, weighing his words. "Sure, it's fine. I can do it. Prices are the same, though, sex or not," she said, getting up.

Kaz stood as well, nodding. "What do I owe you for this... chat?" he asked, blushing slightly.

The girl smirked. "First meeting is on the house. I'm y/n, by the way." She made her way out, and Kaz collapsed back into his chair, exhausted by the encounter.

***

Kaz Brekker found himself in the entry of her apartment, sitting uncomfortably on a couch, waiting. The girl who let him in had remarked that he was early and that she was still busy. He could hear soft moans coming from behind a closed door and did his best to ignore them, maintaining a straight face.

After a while, the noises stopped, replaced by muted conversation. A man left the room in a hurry, and a few minutes later, she appeared. The girl was wearing a see-through robe and dark green lingerie. She gestured for him to enter. Kaz hesitated, reminding himself, "For Inej."

The room was tidy, with no unnecessary items around. Kaz stood in the middle of it, unsure of what to do.

"You can sit, Kaz. Can I call you Kaz, or should I call you Mr. Brekker?"

"Kaz is fine," he said, neatly folding his coat and placing it on a chair, resting his cane against it. He took a seat on the bed, keeping some distance from her.

"You know, I actually did more research," she stated, getting a bit closer. The girl hugged her legs, her feet inches from his thigh. Kaz could already feel the anxiety rising.

"Your girlfriend was kidnapped and enslaved. That's awful. She's doing a great job sharing her story around the world."

He nodded without looking at her. Her body was on full display, and he never felt worse.

"What would she think if she knew you were with a whore?"

Kaz's head shot up, surprised by the question. "I... That's... you do it by choice," he stammered.

"So she wouldn't have a problem?" she inquired, curious, leaning in.

Kaz shifted a bit away. "That's none of your business," he snapped, then turned to look at her. "Why do you do this?"

The girl smiled. "Because sex is great, and my grandma always told me never to do something for free if you're good at it."

Kaz tilted his head, frowning.

"I mean," she continued, shifting closer, "what's the difference between going out on a Friday night hoping for some guy to buy me a drink and then take me home? I'll tell you," she added, not letting him think, "First, I'm getting paid, a lot. I can work with who I want, when I want, and I still have Friday nights free."

"That's... a way to see things," he admitted, surprised.

"Kaz?"

"Yes?"

"You're about to fall off the bed," she whispered playfully. Kaz had shifted so far away that he was dangerously close to the edge of the mattress.

"You are too close," he said, avoiding her gaze.

"Wasn't that the goal?" she leaned in a bit more.

"I need more time and space," Kaz said, getting up and pacing a bit.

"Do you have suggestions? Because I'm not really used to whatever it is you want me to do."

Kaz's mind raced. Part of him screamed to leave, to bury himself somewhere, to tell Inej it was over and disappear from the world. But another part remembered how good it had felt to hold Inej's hand, even if just for a few minutes. He sighed, sitting back on the bed.

"I need to have control over this, over you," he said, determined.

"I'm yours for the next 50 minutes," she shrugged, eyeing him curiously.

Kaz got lost in thought for a moment. "Can I see your hands?"

The girl rested them on the bed, and he slowly brought his covered fingers to brush against hers. "Do you like my nails?" she asked. Was she unable to stay quiet? he wondered.

"No, they're too long. Also, I don't like the color or the shape." These weren't Inej's hands, tanned and small, with bitten nails.

The girl laughed. "You have strong opinions about nails."

He actually chuckled, studying them more closely. "You should change your nail technician."

"I'll ring you up next time I have to do them."

Kaz kept turning her hand in his. They were pale and trembled slightly. Or maybe his hands were trembling; he didn't know. His thoughts wandered to the moans he had heard earlier. He wondered if they were real or if she was acting.

His fingers brushed hers again, and she shivered slightly. Kaz couldn't help but wonder about her life. Was she always this confident? Was she always in control? Did she ever feel as lost as he did right now?

After a long time, he felt confident enough to remove his gloves. "You have pianist's hands," she observed, tilting her head.

"I have thief's hands," he whispered. Kaz rested his hands next to hers on the bed. He raised a finger and slowly traced it along her hand. Shivers went down his spine; the anxiety was at his ankles, but he wasn't going to drown.

Kaz exhaled. "Your hands are cold," said the girl.

"Yours too," he replied.

"You know, I think you're forcing yourself too much. You're too focused on your hands," she observed.

"What should I do?" Kaz raised his gaze to meet hers.

"I don't know. Do something that involves touching, but not just that. Keep talking," she encouraged.

"About what?"

"Talk about your girlfriend."

Hesitantly, Kaz started talking, sharing facts here and there. He tried to keep his eyes on her, distancing his thoughts from her cold hands in his trembling ones.

Kaz felt her hands continuously slipping away. Every time he reached for them, she pulled away.

"For Ghezen's sake, stay still," he said, annoyed, grabbing her wrist to keep her hand where he wanted it.

She raised her brows, surprised.

Kaz looked at their hands. His lungs felt like they were filling with water.

"Kaz, you're not breathing."

No, he wasn't. He let go of her wrist, getting to his feet again. He leaned on the desk, taking slow breaths and cursing himself, his past, Inej, and the poor girl who was watching him with wide eyes.

"Do you want to try again?" she offered.

Kaz took a shaky breath, then nodded.

Later, he stayed in his car under the girl's flat for a while, listening to Inej's audio messages and wondering what she would think of him if she knew. He wondered if this would work and if she would ask what had happened to him when she returned and he could hug her, feel her, kiss her.

***

For weeks, Kaz made his way to her house. It took him a lot to be comfortable enough to hold her hand. Even if he didn't like to admit it, he didn't dislike talking to her. Sometimes he would vent about his work, and she would listen attentively, her hands held tight in his. Other times, they would talk about the Netflix show he convinced her to watch, sharing moments of laughter and distraction from the weight of their respective lives.

One time, they even got into a spirited debate because she was a vegan and he thought it was a ridiculous concept. She argued passionately about animal rights and the environment, while he countered with pragmatic concerns about nutrition and societal norms. Despite their differences, they found a strange sort of fun in their debates, both stubbornly refusing to concede their positions.

As the weeks passed, Kaz found himself looking forward to their sessions, not just because of the progress he was making with his aversion to touch but also because of the unexpected connection he was forming with this unconventional woman. She was sharp-witted, unapologetically herself, and surprisingly perceptive about his inner struggles. Though their arrangement was based on a transactional premise, Kaz couldn't deny that there was a genuine bond developing between them.

He often wondered about her life outside of these walls, the clients she saw, the challenges she faced, and the reasons that led her to this unconventional career. Yet, despite his curiosity, he refrained from prying too deeply. Their interactions were framed within a delicate balance of intimacy and distance, a line he was careful not to cross.

Each visit brought a new revelation or a small triumph. Sometimes it was a touch held a moment longer than before, a conversation that flowed effortlessly, or a shared laughter that eased the tension in the room. Through it all, Kaz kept Inej in his thoughts, reminding himself that every step he took here was for her.

***

He still had about three weeks before Inej would come back. Kaz was waiting on the couch, getting used to the noises he heard from the various rooms in the house. That day, they were louder than he had ever heard, and he recognized her voice clearly. The girl at the desk snorted, looking at his embarrassed face.

"Stop, please, stop, let me go," he heard, and he got on his feet.

"Where do you think you're going?" the girl at the desk raised an eyebrow.

"She said—" her screams grew louder, more pleading, more desperate cries for help.

Kaz took a few more steps, but the girl stopped him. "She's not using her safe word. You can't go in. Are you crazy?" she asked angrily.

Kaz stopped, embarrassed. "I'll go back to—"

"Yeah, sit back," the girl shook her head.

Kaz reluctantly sat back down, his mind racing. He felt a mixture of anger, confusion, and helplessness. The sounds from the room continued, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he should be doing something. Every instinct screamed at him to intervene, but he forced himself to stay put, gripping the edge of the couch with white knuckles.

The girl at the desk glanced at him, then sighed. "Look, I get it. It sounds bad, but she knows what she's doing. If she needed help, she'd use her safe word."

Kaz nodded, trying to calm his racing heart. "I know. It's just... weird to listen to."

The girl softened a bit. "It's part of the job, both hers and mine. You learn to block it out. You'll get used to it too, if you keep coming here."

He wasn't sure he wanted to get used to it. Kaz's thoughts drifted back to Inej, to the reason he was putting himself through this. He needed to be stronger for her, to be able to touch her without flinching. But moments like this made him question if he was doing the right thing.

Eventually, the noises from the room subsided. The door opened, and the man from earlier left, looking smug. Kaz glared at him, but the man didn't notice, or didn't care.

A few minutes later, she emerged, looking tired but composed. She saw Kaz and gave him a small smile. "Ready?" she asked.

Kaz nodded, standing up. He followed her into the familiar room, feeling more on edge than usual. As they settled in, he tried to push the recent events out of his mind, focusing on the task at hand.

"You okay?" she asked, noticing his tension.

"Yeah," Kaz lied. "Just... a bit distracted."

She nodded, understanding. "We can take it slow today."

Kaz took a deep breath, reaching for her hand. He held it gently, trying to steady himself. "For Inej," he reminded himself again.

She still looked a bit disheveled when he got on her bed.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, no one fucked me that good in ages, I'm still a bit shocked, sorry."

Kaz looked at the ceiling, sighing. She always had to overshare.

"What's your safe word?" he asked as she got closer.

"Why? Are you into weird shit?" she grinned, and he felt himself blush because of his total lack of experience.

"Don't make that panicked face. I was joking," her hand slid comfortably into his, "my safe word is 'safe word.'"

Kaz laughed, a good, sincere laugh. "I am not surprised."

She laughed too. "I really hope that one day you'll be able to do shit so nasty it'll become too much, and the only thing you have in mind is, 'I have to use my safe word,' and you'll think that just saying 'safe word' is a great idea."

Kaz studied her, feeling a bit curious about what she was doing with the man before him, and he was sure she would go into detail if he asked. Instead, he decided to go straight for what he wanted to do. "I want to hold you."

"Sure, how?"

He thought about Inej, how he saw her with their friends, carefree, resting her head on Nina's lap.

"Rest your head on me," his heart started racing as she executed the request.

"How does it feel?" she asked, getting comfortable.

Kaz looked at her, slowly scanning her features. She was undeniably beautiful, but still not as much as Inej. There was a stark difference between the two women, and it wasn't just physical. This girl's beauty was polished and practiced, a tool she wielded with confidence and control. Inej's beauty was more profound, a quiet strength that resonated from deep within her, marked by the resilience in her eyes and the grace in her movements.

As Kaz held her, he found himself comparing every detail. Her hair was soft under his fingers, but it lacked the wild, untamed quality of Inej's. Her skin was smooth and flawless, but it didn't have the history and stories that Inej's scars told. He felt a pang of guilt for comparing them, but he couldn't help it. Inej was the reason he was here, the reason he was pushing himself to the brink of his comfort zone.

His mind wandered to the times he had watched Inej from afar, wishing he could reach out and touch her, to reassure her of his presence and his support. He remembered the way she moved through the shadows, a silent guardian, and how he had admired her from a distance. She was more than just a companion; she was his anchor, his reason for fighting.

But now, as he sat here, trying to overcome his deepest fears, he wondered if he would ever be able to truly be there for her. Would this training make a difference? Would he be able to touch her without flinching, without feeling the icy grip of panic?

He thought about the last time he had seen Inej, how she had kissed him and how he had run away, throwing up in the street. The memory filled him with shame, but also a renewed determination. He couldn't let that be the end of their story. He had to be stronger, for her.

"It's... fine," he admitted, feeling more in control that day.

"You know," she said with a smirk, "I'm sure your girlfriend would absolutely love it if you played with her hair, scratched her head..." she let her voice trail off.

Kaz chuckled. "My girlfriend or you?"

"Oh no, it's all for her. I would hate it," she laughed softly.

He removed his gloves and started touching her hair from the lengths. He slowly made his way to her head, wondering if Inej would really enjoy it as much as this girl seemed to. The girl closed her eyes, humming with satisfaction. "I can't believe you pay me to cuddle me," she whispered.

"I'm not cuddling you," he said, offended.

"I know you're not an expert, but trust me, love, you totally are," the girl smiled, keeping her eyes closed.

Kaz rolled his eyes. "I want to try and hug you, but, uhm, can you put some more clothes on?"

The girl looked at her exposed body, then nodded. "Sure thing, baby. I'll be right back." She stood up and walked to her dresser, pulling out a comfortable-looking sweater and leggings. After slipping them on, she returned to the bed and sat next to him.

"Can you stop using pet names for me? It's weird," Kaz requested.

The girl sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. "Yes, Kaz." She moved to sit on his lap, waiting for his instructions. Kaz kept his hands firmly on the bed, his breaths quickening. The girl stood still, looking around, until he rested one of his hands on her thigh. She started chatting about the latest gossip she had on one of her friends, and Kaz found himself becoming more and more invested. That girl was really unlucky with relationships.

Kaz put his other hand on her arm, and while she kept talking, he guided her to rest against his chest, silently battling a war inside of him.

"Kaz, you're not breathing," she reminded him gently.

He knew he wasn't, and tried to distract himself by focusing on her hair. Sometimes he wondered if he had it all wrong. Maybe Inej would have enjoyed making this long journey with him, but he felt too embarrassed. With y/n, he didn't have to be ashamed; he was paying for her time, and he was the one setting the pace and the rules.

Kaz let her press her head against his chest, staring firmly out of the window. "Can I?" the girl rested a hand on his chest to shift more comfortably. They remained in that position for a while. He gathered the courage to hug her more tightly, but as he did, her forehead pressed against his neck, and he felt like drowning.

Kaz abruptly got to his feet, shoving her away, trying to ground himself. "What the fuck?" the girl was on the floor, massaging her shoulder, and Kaz managed to feel even worse.

"I'm sorry, I can't-" he started, his voice faltering with frustration and self-disappointment. He turned away, struggling to regain his composure, he failed miserably to steady his breaths.

The girl remained on the floor, watching him quietly.

He didn't look at her as he hurriedly gathered his things and made his way to the door. Before leaving, he glanced back at her once more. "Wait Kaz don't-" he heard her calling for him, but he ran away from the building. His heart stopped racing only after he drove for a while.

After a shower, Kaz was feeling slightly better. He threw himself on his bed, exhausted both physically and emotionally from the day's events. Checking his phone, he found a few audio messages from Inej, likely filled with her warm voice and reassuring words, a couple of pictures from Jesper, probably teasing snapshots or updates from their latest escapade, and nothing from y/n.

Kaz sighed heavily; he had even forgotten to pay her. He tapped on the bank application: 'Press Confirm to send 700 kruge to y/n y/l/n.' It was way more than what he usually gave her, but he confirmed the transaction without hesitation, feeling it was a small price for the scene he caused. Tossing his phone aside, he turned on the TV and aimlessly flipped through channels until he settled on the new episode of Masterchef.

As he immersed himself in the cooking competition, his phone signaled a new message.

'Did someone steal your card?'

Kaz shook his head at the text, amused by her directness. He decided not to respond, but another message followed immediately.

'Are you watching Masterchef?'

'No,' he replied without thinking.

'I bet you could do a better tiramisu than this even blind and with just one hand.'

He chuckled softly, his lips curving into a rare smile. 'Absolutely.'

'My friends asked me to go to the Crow Club tomorrow night, hope it's not a problem.'

'It's fine,' Kaz replied, relieved at the normalcy of their conversation despite the recent awkwardness.

The girl left him on read, and he returned his attention to the episode, stealing occasional glances at his phone. In the comfort of his room, surrounded by the familiar banter of the cooking show and the gentle glow of the television, Kaz allowed himself a moment of respite from the complexities of his life.

***

The next night, Kaz observed the bustling crowd from his elevated private zone in the club. It was well past 2 am, and the party was in full swing. Amidst the sea of dancing bodies and flashing lights, he spotted y/n with four other girls, one of whom he recognized as the 'secretary' he had seen at her house.

Almost immediately, a group of guys approached them, offering drinks and inviting them to dance. Kaz felt a pang of discomfort at the thought of immersing himself in the midst of the sweaty, pulsating crowd, but he couldn't deny that y/n and her friends seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Throughout the night, Kaz stole glances at her, careful not to lock eyes. He observed as she laughed, danced, and interacted with her friends and the group of guys around them. Despite the chaotic environment of the club, there was a sense of carefree energy emanating from y/n that Kaz found both intriguing and somewhat unsettling.

As the hours ticked by and the club approached closing time around 4 am, Kaz couldn't help but notice y/n leaving with a guy, her arm casually draped around his. Guess she found someone to take her home on a Friday night, he thought wryly.

Observing from his secluded vantage point, Kaz's mind began to wander, consumed by curiosity about y/n's motivations. It puzzled him why someone who engaged in intimate encounters every day for work would actively seek out another person at a club. Was it a matter of preference—perhaps finding someone who could provide a different kind of connection or intimacy that her clients couldn't? Did she crave genuine affection or cuddles after days of superficial interactions?

The image of her relaxed face as he played with her hair during their sessions floated into his mind. There had been a moment of vulnerability there, a glimpse behind the professional facade she maintained. Kaz found himself reflecting on the complexities of human desires and needs, realizing that intimacy—whether physical or emotional—could manifest in myriad forms, even for someone whose profession seemed to blur those boundaries.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, torn between curiosity and a sense of guilt for prying into her personal life.

***

"Kaz!" He had just stepped out of his car when he heard her voice calling from somewhere behind him.

Kaz turned and saw y/n approaching with a smile. It was the first time she had been free before their usual session.

"That's really your car?" she asked in shock.

"Yep," he replied, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

"My brother in Ghezen, you have money," she observed, still eyeing the car. "Are you sure you want to stay faithful to your girlfriend?" she smirked.

"Pretty sure," he answered without hesitation.

"Why are you always this early?" she asked, opening the building's door and gesturing for him to enter first.

Kaz shrugged, "I don't like being late."

"Well, I'm not booked for another 20 minutes. Do you want something to drink? I think I have beer."

"You drink before going to work?" he joked.

"Oh, wait until I tell you I have sex at my workplace sometimes," she winked.

They sat in her room, chatting about Masterchef and sipping their drinks. "I'll change and then I'm all yours," she said, heading to her drawer.

Kaz glanced at her outfit—jeans and a t-shirt, perfectly ordinary. "Can you stay like this?" he blurted before he could stop himself. "You have less skin exposed."

She seemed uncomfortable with his request. "Undressing helps me separate things," she explained, shifting her weight. "I wouldn't feel comfortable using my everyday clothes while working. I'll find a compromise like the other day."

After she changed into something less revealing, they both sat on the bed. Kaz felt calmer than before; he had survived her touching his neck, and despite the panic attack, the world hadn't stopped turning. He hadn't drowned. He could do this. 'For Inej,' he repeated in his mind like a mantra.

"Come here," he said softly, and she moved onto his lap.

Again, he started touching her hair and noticed she must have changed her shampoo. Slowly, he pulled her closer until her head rested on his chest, both careful not to let bare skin touch. They continued chatting, and Kaz felt comfortable enough to hold her hand too.

The girl slowly shifted in his arms to look at him while talking, and he didn't even notice.

"Fix my hair," she said at a certain point.

He looked puzzled. "I have hair in my face, put it behind my ear," she encouraged, "girls love it, trust me."

Kaz sighed. He had never touched her face. He took the small strand of hair and did what she asked, brushing as little as possible against her ear.

"Not bad," she commented with a smile, making him snort at the absurdity of the situation.

The whole scenario felt surreal. Here he was, grappling with the simple act of brushing hair from her face, while she was someone who had sex for money, casually and without the emotional turmoil that plagued him. Kaz's mind raced with the juxtaposition of their worlds—her ease and expertise contrasted sharply with his profound discomfort and hesitation.

Kaz's gaze fell from her eyes to her lips, and she didn't miss it. "Yes, it would be a great moment to kiss her."

He nodded, feeling bad about how slow his progress was. It frustrated him to no end. He had always been the master of his own fate, the one in control, but this was different. This was a battle against his own mind and body, and he was losing. He felt like he was stuck in quicksand, every attempt to move forward met with resistance.

His mind wandered back to Inej, her soft voice and the warmth of her presence. How would she react if she knew what he was doing? Would she understand, or would she feel betrayed? He pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the girl in front of him.

"I saw you at the club the other day. Saw you left with a guy."

"Yeah, nothing special. Bit boring, not a great shag. I'll see him later for dinner," she commented.

"Why are you seeing him again if he's not good in bed?" he frowned.

"Maybe because I have sex almost every day, so it's not exactly my first concern," she snorted.

"Yeah, right. I always forget," he shook his head.

"Forget what? That not everyone who comes in here wants to do sweet things like you?" she teased.

Kaz felt a flush of frustration rising. "The fact that I can't do much doesn't mean I wouldn't like to do much more," he said before registering what he was revealing.

She looked at him with wide eyes. "That's new," she commented.

Kaz immediately felt a wave of embarrassment crash over him. He wasn't used to exposing such raw vulnerability, especially not to someone he was paying to help him. It made him feel weak, pathetic even, to admit his shortcomings so openly.

He glanced away, his face heating up. "Forget I said anything," he mumbled, wishing he could take the words back.

But she didn't let it go. "No, really. What do you mean?"

Kaz struggled to find the right words, feeling cornered. "It's just... I want to be able to touch her, to hold her without feeling like I'm drowning. I want to be able to kiss her, to feel her against me without panicking."

She nodded, listening intently. "It's natural to want those things with someone you care about."

Kaz's frustration bubbled over. "It's more than that. I want to be able to... to make her feel good, to be with her the way she deserves. I think about it all the time, but I can't even get close without... without freezing up."

Her eyes widened slightly, her expression sympathetic.

He glanced away, again. "Forget it," he mumbled, wishing he could take the words back.

But she didn't let it go. "No, really. What do you mean?"

Kaz sighed, his frustration mixing with a deep sense of inadequacy. "I mean, I want to be able to do things, normal things. But I can't. Every step feels like I'm trying to climb a mountain."

She tilted her head, her expression softening. "You're doing more than you realize, Kaz. The fact that you're here, trying, it says a lot about you."

He shook his head, still unable to meet her gaze. "But it's not enough. Inej deserves more than what I can give her right now."

She placed a hand on his, her touch gentle. "I imagine Inej loves you for who you are, not for what you can do. She's seen you at your worst, and she's still with you, right?"

Kaz nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, but for how long? What if she gets tired of waiting for me to be... normal?"

"Normal is overrated," she said with a small smile. "And besides, you're making progress. It might feel slow, but every step forward is a victory."

He sighed, feeling a bit of the weight lift off his shoulders. "I just... I don't want to disappoint her."

"And you won't," she assured him. "You're trying, and that's what matters. The rest will come with time."

Kaz felt a mix of relief and frustration. He was trying, but it never felt like enough. He didn't want to just keep trying; he wanted to succeed. He wanted to be the man Inej deserved, not just someone who was always working on getting better.

"So you want to have sex with her?" she asked with a grin, her tone teasing and eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Of course I want to," he let himself say, sighing heavily. "But it's not just about sex. It's about everything that comes with it. The intimacy, the closeness, the trust. I want to be able to give her that without feeling like I'm about to fall apart."

She laughed softly. "That's a lot of pressure for one guy, even one as stubborn as you, Kaz. But it's cute, you know? Watching you struggle with this whole intimacy thing."

"Great," he muttered, his frustration mounting. "I'm glad my issues are entertaining for you."

She rolled her eyes, still grinning. "Oh, come on. Lighten up a little. You're taking this way too seriously."

"Seriously?" Kaz's voice had a sharp edge. "Of course I take it seriously. This is about more than just me. It's about Inej. She deserves better."

“But what about you Kaz? You always talk about her, what she might need, what she might expect from you,” she observed, “You’re allowed to do things for you too. You need to loosen up. Enjoy the process a bit."

Kaz felt the heat of embarrassment and anger rise in his cheeks. "It's not that simple," he snapped. "I can't just 'loosen up' and pretend everything's fine."

She smirked, leaning in closer. "Maybe you need to stop overthinking and start feeling. Like right now. What do you want to do? What do you really want?"

Kaz's mind raced, his usual calm shattered. "I want to be able to touch her, hold her, without feeling like I'm going to drown."

She raised an eyebrow, her smile turning mischievous. "What do you want to do with me?"

Kaz hesitated, feeling the weight of her question. His thoughts were jumbled, a mix of frustration and desire. He knew she was teasing him, but the question still struck a chord. He wanted to push his boundaries, but it was hard to admit it, even to himself.

"I want to..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I want to be able to hold you closer. To not feel like I'm constantly on the edge."

She tilted her head, still grinning. "Is that all? I thought you'd have something more interesting in mind, apart from holding hands and playing with hair."

Kaz felt a surge of irritation. "It's not a game," he snapped. "This is hard for me." His mind began to wander, thinking about all the things he wanted to try but was too shy to say out loud. He imagined holding her hand without gloves, feeling her skin against his. He thought about tracing the curves of her body, learning every inch of her by touch alone. He wanted to kiss her, to feel her lips against his and lose himself in the sensation.

He yearned to learn how to make her come undone in the same way he knew how to crack a safe, so good that it left her distracted all day, like he had witnessed for other men. He imagined exploring her body, discovering what made her gasp, what made her moan. In his mind, images of Inej blurred with images of y/n, and he shook his head to make them go away.

"You don't have to be afraid to say what you want," she whispered, her voice suddenly soft. 

Kaz took another deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside him. "I just... I want to feel normal," he confessed. "I want to touch and be touched without fear."

"Do you think you can touch my cheek?" 

Kaz tilted his head. "Maybe with the gloves first." He covered his hands and then stopped, unsure of how to proceed.

The girl felt his hesitation, "Can I?" she gestured to his hand, and he nodded.

She guided his hand to her face, and he felt the familiar rush of anxiety. He had to fight the urge to pull away, to retreat back into the safety of distance. His breathing quickened as he made contact, his gloved hand resting on her cheek.

"You're doing fine," she whispered encouragingly, but her words did little to soothe him. He felt like he was failing, like he was letting Inej down.

"It's just...so slow," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. "I should be past this by now."

She shook her head slightly, careful not to disrupt his hand. "Everyone has their own pace, Kaz. You're making progress, and that's what matters."

Kaz sighed, his eyes fixated on his gloved hand against her skin. "But what if it's not enough? What if I can't ever get past this?"

She gently cupped his hand with her own, her touch light and reassuring. "You will. It's not about how fast you go, but about continuing to move forward, even if it's just a little bit at a time."

He looked at her, searching her eyes for some form of validation. "Do you really think so?"

She smiled softly. "I do. And I think Inej would understand. She knows what you've been through, and she wouldn't expect you to change overnight."

Kaz swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat. He wanted so badly to believe her, but the fear of failure loomed large. "I just... I want to be better for her."

"And you will be," she assured him. "You're already trying, and that means a lot. Now, do you want to try taking off the glove?"

Kaz hesitated, but then nodded. "Yeah. Let's try."

He carefully removed his glove, exposing his hand to the cool air. The anxiety surged again, but he kept his focus on her face, her calm demeanor helping to steady him.

"Okay," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm ready."

She guided his bare hand back to her cheek, and this time, the contact felt more intimate, more real. Kaz took a deep breath, feeling a mix of fear and determination.

"See? You're doing it," she said softly. "One step at a time."

Kaz nodded, feeling a small spark of hope ignite within him. Maybe he could do this, after all. Maybe he could become the person he wanted to be for Inej, one slow step at a time.

He let himself brush his fingers against her nose, tracing the line of her brows. He couldn't bring himself to cup her face completely, but still, it was a lot. When he left, he felt good. He didn't have much time before Inej's arrival, but he was making progress.

***

All of his confidence disappeared the night before her arrival. In Kaz's mind, the only scene he could see was when she tried to kiss him, and he ran away.

‘Can you come to my place?’ Kaz attached the screenshot of a payment of 1000 kruge he only had to confirm.

After two minutes, he got a response. ‘Are you okay?’

He thought about what he could answer, but luckily another message saved him. ‘I don't work outside home, sorry. You can come here if you want.’

Kaz confirmed the payment and stormed outside his house.

He found y/n at her door with a worried look. It was quite late; she was probably doing other things when he had written to her. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and she wore a loose-fitting T-shirt and pajama shorts, hinting that she might have been getting ready for bed before his unexpected message.

"Kaz, what is going on?" she whispered, concern evident in her eyes as she glanced at the time on her phone.

"I have to kiss you. I want to... I want to kiss her," Kaz blurted out, his voice strained with anxiety.

She nodded slowly, processing his words. "Okay," she said softly, her tone soothing. "Come in."

She stepped aside, allowing him to enter her apartment. Kaz followed her, feeling a mix of nerves and determination swirling inside him. He noticed the cozy atmosphere of her living room, dimly lit with a few lamps casting warm light across the space.

As they walked towards her bedroom, Kaz stole glances at her, trying to read her expression. She seemed uncertain yet patient, as if she understood the weight of his intentions but wasn't entirely sure how to respond.

Inside her bedroom, she turned to face him, her gaze searching. "Let's take it slow," she suggested gently, her voice a contrast to the nervous energy crackling between them.

Kaz nodded, his heart racing in his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil of emotions churning inside him. This moment felt surreal, both daunting and exhilarating.

They stood facing each other, a palpable tension hanging in the air. Kaz noticed the way her eyes softened as she studied him, as if she could see past his walls and into the vulnerability he kept hidden.

"Okay," he murmured, his voice barely audible in the quiet room.

She took a step closer, closing the distance between them. Kaz felt his breath catch in his throat as she reached out, her hand resting gently on his arm. 

"You're trying," she said softly, her gaze unwavering. "That's what matters."

He nodded, grateful for her understanding even as he struggled with his own expectations. Kaz knew he had to push past his fears, but the fear of failing Inej loomed large in his mind.

"I just..." Kaz started, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "I don't want to mess this up."

Her expression softened further, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Have you ever kissed someone?"

"Not exactly," he muttered.

"You don't have to force yourself."

"Maybe I do," Kaz replied, releasing a few shaky breaths. With all the patience in the world, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. She tasted like cherries.

He took a few steps back, unsure. The world didn’t stop turning; he didn’t drown. He took a bit more courage, resting his gloved hands on her waist. Kaz tried to lean into the contact, to let their lips move against each other for more than a brief instant. She was cold, why was she always so cold? Inej burned under his touch; y/n felt like ice. Inej, he should be kissing Inej. Kaz pulled away from the brief contact again, with heavy breaths.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

He nodded, and her gaze softened. “You’re trembling, Kaz. Do you want to sit?”

They moved to the bed, where he noticed her tablet on with a paused show open. She was really about to go to sleep when he arrived. Their noses were inches apart, and it already felt too much.

“Talk to me,” she said gently.

“You taste like cherries,” escaped from his mouth.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“What does Inej taste like?” she leaned closer, brushing her nose against his.

“Like the sea,” he murmured, gazing one last time at her lips before pressing them into a kiss. Kaz tried to stay present, focused. His body wanted to react, to ask for more, but his mind kept him on a short leash. He managed to tangle one hand in her hair, to have more control. The girl slightly opened her lips, inviting him in, and he didn’t know what to do. He knew that people kissed with tongues, but he never grasped the mechanics of it.

Sensing his hesitation, y/n opened her mouth more, waiting for him to go further. Kaz’s heart was racing; he was sure he was about to have a stroke. All of her body was ice cold, but the hotness radiating from inside her mouth seemed to come directly from hell. y/n brushed her tongue on his lips, and he forced himself to respond. But as their tongues touched, he was back in the harbor, and water was filling his lungs.

Panic surged through him, and he pulled back, gasping for air. His chest heaved as if he were drowning, the sensation all too familiar and terrifying. He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes and cursed himself for his weakness.

A wave of nausea made his body tremble. “Shit, are you going to throw up?” asked the girl, panic evident in her voice.

He nodded frantically, trying to stop his body from convulsing. She quickly passed him a bucket just in time for him to empty his stomach into it. The acrid smell and the sound of his retching filled the room, amplifying his embarrassment and frustration.

She went to open the window, letting the fresh air in. The cool breeze helped ground him a bit. “You don’t have to rush, Kaz,” she said, passing him a few tissues to wipe his mouth.

“I just wanted to... I have been doing better these past days,” he muttered, wiping away the remnants of his failure.

“Yeah, you are, don’t worry,” she assured him, her voice gentle. Without thinking, she rested her hand on his back, making small circles. He didn’t even notice it, from how natural it felt, and for a moment, he allowed himself to be comforted.

“So she’s coming tomorrow?” she asked.

“Yes, she’s staying for a few weeks,” he replied, his voice tinged with anticipation and anxiety.

“You must be happy.”

“I am. I haven’t seen her in three months.”

“Special plans? Oh, you know where you should take her? I saw this place where they do this wine and chocolate tasting thing, must be super romantic.”

Kaz chuckled, imagining Inej in such a fancy place. The thought of her delicate features scrutinizing overpriced chocolate made him smile. “Are you going?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from his own nervousness.

The girl snorted, a sharp contrast to the soft concern she had shown moments before. “Yeah, sure, with who exactly?” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t know, that guy from the club?” Kaz suggested, feeling the awkwardness of the question. He didn’t know why he was prying into her personal life. Maybe it was an attempt to normalize their interaction, or maybe he just wanted to understand her better.

“We’re not seeing each other anymore. We weren’t very compatible,” she said, her tone dismissive.

Kaz wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. Was he supposed to apologize? Or assure her that she would find someone else? The awkwardness of the moment hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable.

“It’s a bit late, Kaz. What do you want to do?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Better go home,” he said, gathering his things. He stole a last glance at her, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and discomfort. He was about to thank her, but then remembered the substantial amount of money he gave her to come over so late. It felt odd to focus on the transactional nature of their relationship when she had seen the most vulnerable parts of him. Embarrassment flushed his cheeks as he muttered a simple, “Goodnight,” and headed straight for his car.

As he drove home, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. He couldn't shake the feeling of failure, the constant fear that he would never be able to be the man Inej deserved. The taste of her, the way she felt under his touch, was supposed to give him hope, but all it left was a hollow ache in his chest. He was trying, but it never felt like enough. As he pulled into his driveway, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Tomorrow, he would see Inej. And he had to be better for her. He had to be stronger.

***

Kaz got off the phone and threw it at the wall. The device clattered to the floor, its screen now cracked—a physical manifestation of his frustration. Inej wasn’t coming back. She had just called to talk about a new opportunity someone had proposed to her, and she had to be there. He was proud of the work she was doing, truly, but he couldn't help but feel left in the corner, an afterthought.

Inej had assured him it would only take a few days, that he wouldn’t even notice her absence. He chuckled bitterly at that. Easy for her to say—she wasn’t the one left behind to wait. She was always off on some new adventure, while he remained stuck, paralyzed by his own demons.

His phone buzzed, dragging him back from his spiraling thoughts. Reluctantly, he picked it up. It was a message from Jesper: 'Just talked to Inej. I’m sorry. Want to get drunk?' Kaz stared at the screen for a moment before replying with a simple thumbs-up. It was a weak attempt to push his emotions aside, but it was all he could manage.

With a heavy sigh, Kaz checked Instagram. As he scrolled through the endless stories of people he didn’t care about, one caught his eye—y/n pre-gaming with her friends before heading out. It was a boomerang of her getting on her knees and throwing her head back while another girl poured liquor directly into her mouth from a bottle. 

He felt a strange pang of jealousy mixed with irritation. Here he was, struggling with his emotions, and there she was, seemingly carefree and reckless. Guess he wasn’t the only one getting drunk that night, but at least she seemed to be having fun.

Kaz tossed his phone onto the couch and sank into his armchair, his thoughts a tangled mess. He thought about Inej, about how much he missed her. He thought about y/n, about the absurdity of their last encounter. His mind was a whirlwind of frustration, loneliness, and longing.

A knock at the door broke through his reverie. Jesper stood on the other side, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a mischievous grin on his face. “Ready to forget your troubles for a night?”

Kaz managed a weak smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

They settled into the living room, and Jesper poured two generous glasses. They drank in silence at first, the alcohol burning a path down Kaz’s throat and dulling the edge of his thoughts. It was a temporary reprieve, but he welcomed it.

“So, what’s the plan?” Jesper asked after a while, breaking the silence.

Kaz shrugged. “There is no plan. Just get through the night.”

Jesper nodded, raising his glass in a silent toast. “To getting through.”

As they drank, Kaz’s thoughts kept drifting back to y/n. He wondered what she was doing now, if she was thinking about him at all. He knew it was ridiculous—she had her own life, her own problems. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of connection he had felt during their last meeting, despite everything.

He took another sip, trying to drown out the confusion in his mind. Tonight, he would let go, just for a little while. Tomorrow, he would pick up the pieces and try again.

Kaz and Jesper made their way to the Crow Club. He was already leaning heavily on his cane, the weight of the evening and the alcohol slowing him down. The queue outside was longer than ever, but being the owner had its perks. As they passed the waiting patrons, Kaz spotted y/n out of the corner of his eye. She was with her friends, laughing and swaying slightly, clearly already enjoying their night.

He knew he shouldn’t acknowledge her, but he was already a bit drunk and still simmering with anger and frustration over Inej. Impulsively, he gestured towards the girls. “You four,” he called out, his voice cutting through the noise. y/n’s intoxicated eyes widened in surprise. “Come with me.”

The girls followed, giggling and chattering amongst themselves. Kaz led them through the club, bypassing the main floor and heading straight to the VIP area. He offered them a prime table, ensuring they had a good view and plenty of attention from the waitstaff.

Kaz and y/n locked eyes for a brief moment before he turned to leave, making his way to the even more secluded private area with Jesper.

“Kaz, what was that?” Jesper asked, his eyes wide with curiosity and amusement.

Kaz shrugged, trying to play it off. “Don’t know, they looked cold waiting outside,” he mumbled.

“Sure, try to invent something better for next time,” Jesper laughed. “Or should I tell Inej?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

Kaz bristled at the mention of Inej. “Tell her what? That I made four hot girls skip the queue so that some guys will offer them drinks and spend their money in my club? Sure, tell her.”

“There’s no need to get so defensive,” Jesper said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just messing with you.”

Kaz sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been a long day, Jesper.”

Jesper nodded, his expression softening. “I get it, man. You miss her. But you’ve got to trust that she’ll come back. And in the meantime, you’ve got to take care of yourself.”

Kaz stared into his drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass. “It’s just hard,” he admitted. “Inej is out there, doing amazing things, and I’m stuck here, trying to keep everything together. I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

Jesper clapped him on the back. “You’re doing your best, Kaz. That’s all anyone can ask for. Now, let’s get drunk and forget about our problems for a while.”

Kaz managed a small smile, raising his glass in a toast. “To forgetting our problems.”

They clinked glasses and drank deeply, each sip a temporary reprieve from the turmoil of their lives. Tonight, Kaz allowed himself to drift away from the weight of responsibilities and emotions that usually anchored him.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a message from y/n.

‘Thanks for the table, where’s your hot girlfriend?’ she teased.

‘Had to delay,’ Kaz responded quickly, a touch of guilt creeping into his mind.

‘:(‘ came her disappointed reply.

‘Found someone to take you home?’ Kaz debated whether to send the message or not. Finally, he shrugged and decided to go for it. 'Fuck it,' he thought, 'it's just a text.'

Her response came swiftly, two messages popping up on his screen. ‘Still looking’ followed by ‘Want to step in? :)’

Kaz shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. ‘You wish,’ he typed back before tucking the broken phone back into his pocket.

Jesper, observing Kaz's exchange, couldn't resist teasing. “Who were you texting all smiling?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No one,” Kaz replied casually, attempting to maintain his usual composed facade. But Jesper's knowing look told him he wasn't fooling anyone.

“You're hiding something,” Jesper prodded, his voice filled with curiosity.

“Don't I always?” Kaz quipped, offering a crooked smile as he got up from the table.

Jesper chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as Kaz walked away. They both understood that tonight's laughter and camaraderie were brief respites from their respective troubles. Tomorrow, Kaz would face the reality of Inej's absence once more, and y/n would continue navigating her own tumultuous world. But for now, amidst the clinking of glasses and the dim lights of the Crow Club, they found solace in each other's company and the fleeting escape that alcohol provided.

[goddessofroyalty]

hello! the fanart of Viktor with a baby you reblogged this week got me right in the soft feels u.u would you consider revisiting the Work/Life Balance 'verse? (random ideas: pregnant Viktor dealing with a minor illness (very minor, not a complication, no real threat to his health and no threat whatsoever to the baby, but Jayce is still fussing over them)? how a newborn affects Viktor's already hectic work/sleep schedule? either Viktor can't or chooses not to nurse and good papa Jayce does his part with formula and bottles?)

Kind of combined the second two parts of this into what I’ve written but more leaning on good papa Jayce helping feed their baby. Maybe I’ll figure out a quick 4th scene (to even out the POV’s) that focuses a bit more on Viktor’s messy sleeping schedule. Have also made a note of the first prompt as well to do separately.

I’ve given up and am naming this kid Naph as well. Why? Because it’s a nice easy name for me to kidnap and gods knows Arcane played fast and loose with League lore anyway. Also I like it and it has become the default in my brain if nothing else fills the space. It can be easily subbed out if I decide on something different later.

Warnings: past-mpreg, omegaverse (I refer to the baby as pup that’s literally it), some mention of after-birth pains (nothing major just a bit tender)

------------------

Viktor wakes to the sound of a baby crying.

“I’ve got him, don’t get up,” Jayce says as the sleep fades from Viktor’s brain and he remembers that it is their baby that is crying not just some random abstract one. Their baby that Viktor had given birth to days prior and had finally been allowed back home that day. The doctors happy with both their progress.

The bed shifts as Jayce gets up to go to their child. Viktor pushes himself up on his arms to sit up more as he does. Wincing as his weight settles on where he’s still tender from the birth.

“I told you not to get up,” Jayce says holding their son in his arms as he looks back at Viktor. It is a good image and one Viktor could get used to seeing. Will get used to seeing, as surreal as that feels.

“And I have not gotten out of bed.” Nor will he be. Not when he has a perfectly good and willing Jayce to get things for him while he still heals from the birth. To make up for you having done all the work to this point Jayce had said and Viktor had nothing to gain from fighting him on it. “What’s the time?”

“2AM. And you can go back to sleep,” Jayce says. “He just needs a bottle.”

“I’m awake now.” Viktor had never been able to go back to sleep once he woke. There always something he’d rather be spending the time doing than tossing and turning. “I can hold him while you heat up the bottle.”

“The doctors said you need rest,” Jayce says despite it being clear he needs both hands to keep their son settled which would leave none free to prepare a bottle as well.

“I am resting!” Despite how much he misses it he still hasn’t returned to the lab since he was put on bedrest in the final trimester. Working on formulas and schematics from bed can hardly be considered work. It’s just keeping his mind occupied. “Let me hold him.”

Jayce clearly wants to argue but he relents when Viktor raises an eyebrow. Carefully handing their son over and only taking his hands away once the baby is very secure and settled.

Viktor would almost be offended at the lack of trust but he all-too-well understands the impulse. It turns out newborns are tiny and so delicate. It is almost terrifying to think about all the different ways they could accidently hurt him. It is scary to even have him in Viktor’s arms but also nerve-wracking when he is not within easy reach.

“I’ll be right back,” Jayce promises, only taking his eyes off them when he physically leaves the room.

Viktor once again examines his son while he waits. He had hoped their child would have taken a little more after both of them rather than looking mostly like Viktor but it is still impressive to think mere days ago Naph was still growing inside him and now the boy is alive and experiencing the world, frowning up at Viktor as his tongue peaks out between tiny lips, followed by a small cry of impatience.

“Not much longer,” Viktor promises. If his milk had come in the wait wouldn’t have to be this long. But it is useful to know that Jayce can look after their son entirely on his own if needed.

Naph is still far too young to actually understand what Viktor is saying. Another louder cry being made as Jayce hurries back into the room.

“No, no, don’t cry, I got it,” Jayce rambles, sliding into bed beside Viktor, warm bottle in hand. He pauses when Viktor holds their child back out to him. “Uh-“

“You said you were feeding him, no?” Viktor has no problems with doing it as well but Jayce likes to feel useful. And Viktor likes to watch him with their son.

“Right, of course,” Jayce recovers quickly. Carefully taking their son back into his arms, offering him the bottle. It only takes two passes of the teat for the tiny mouth to open to let it pass.

“He is hungry,” Jayce says as their son makes quick work of the bottle.

“I suppose it was a big day for him.” For Viktor and Jayce they came home but all their son knew until the day before was the hospital.

“It was,” Jayce agrees, shifting slightly to allow Viktor to lean in closer and push the fabric from their son’s onesie down from where it had crept up to his mouth. “But we can all rest for now.”

Viktor gives a hum of agreement despite how he already itches to get back to the lab.

-------------------

Jayce wakes to find himself alone in the bed.

It isn’t that unusual. Neither he nor Viktor can be said to have a normal sleeping schedule even before their pup was born. But Jayce still never likes it when he reaches out for his partner only to find cold bedsheets.

He pulls himself out of bed and shuffles to the main living area. There’s no point trying to get back to sleep anyway and he might as well check on Naph to make sure he hasn’t woken in the night.

Viktor had apparently had the same thought whenever he had gotten up. He stands in front of the blackboard they had set up so they can make any changes to their equations even when not in the lab, a piece of chalk balanced in the fingers of the hand resting on his cane as the other holds their son steady where he is swaddled against Viktor’s chest. A slight bounce with every move clearly to keep the pup settled.

“I put coffee on,” Viktor says, not even turning around to acknowledge Jayce. Not that Jayce wants him to – he’s perfectly happy just watching his partner and their child together.

“Thanks.” There’s an almost empty baby bottle next to the coffeepot. It’s cold to the touch so Jayce rinses it out in the sink and puts it to the side to be sanitized with the others. He makes Viktor a cup of coffee as well as his own. “Couldn’t get him to go back to sleep?”

“He doesn’t want to be put down,” Viktor says, looking away from their life’s work to their son. “Clingy. Like his father.”

Jayce can hardly blame his son for that – he wants to cling to Viktor too at times.

“I can take him if you need to write,” Jayce says as he brings Viktor’s coffee over to him. Tapping his partner on the arm with it before placing it down on the table they keep next to the blackboard almost exclusively for coffee. He picks up the old empty one and takes it back to the sink.

“It is fine,” Viktor says with a small shake of his head, his eyes flitting back to the blackboard. “I have nothing new to add to it anyway.”

Jayce would suggest Viktor go back to bed then but he knows his partner would have as much a chance of going back to sleep as he would.

Instead he joins Viktor at the blackboard. Close enough that Viktor can shuffle over and lean against him while they both try and figures out how the equations fit together and wait for the morning sun.

------------------

“Jayce!” Viktor calls because he is in the middle of wiring up the controls for the latest iteration of Hexgates and their son is crying. Jayce is just doing some paperwork, necessary, yes, but nowhere near as dangerous to be walked away from in the middle of.

“Huh?” Jayce asks as he sticks his head into the room before realizing why he was called. “Right. On it.”

“Up we go,” Jayce says as he picks their son up from the cot they keep in the lab for him to sleep in while they work. Out of the corner of his eye Viktor watches his partner hold their son high to sniff at his backside. “Nope. Must be hungry.”

Viktor returns his attention back fully to his work as Jayce carries their son into the kitchenette of the lab to heat up a bottle for him. He’s still at it when he two return, their son still in Jayce’s arms as he comes to watch over Viktor’s shoulder.

“How are you going?”

“Nearly finished.” The wiring had nearly taken him all day but it should be worth it.

“And then we can test it?” Jayce asks despite the fact he should already know the answer.

“Yes. They should lead to a less, uh, jolty experience when the jump is made.”

Jayce doesn’t respond, but Viktor can hear him pace around the lab no doubt bouncing their child in his arms as he does to keep the boy settled and not distracting Viktor’s work.

Viktor doesn’t alert his partner to the fact once he finishes. Instead watching the two of them for the minute it takes Jayce to notice himself. He had been told by many how lucky he was to have Jayce as the father of his child and, really, he cannot argue it.

[jillsandwhichs]

Between you and me

Chapter 4 to Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection

Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: Joel is your dad's best friend, he has been since you were a bit younger. Now, you're a College student and Joel still works with your father and is still close with him. Little does your dad know, you and Joel have a little something on the side

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Complicated

WC: 3.4k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Reader is early 20s & Joel is late 30s, Degrading kink, Blowjob, He cums in your mouth, Making out, Light spanking, Unprotected P in V, Missionary, Pinning & He finishes inside of you

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

You had your earbuds in as you were listening to your study playlist. The current song playing was called 'Take on Me' by A-Ha; It is one of your favorite classics. Currently, you're studying for an environmental science test you have to take in class. Your major has literally nothing to do with it so you have to study extra hard considering you don't know much about the subject. The test is tomorrow morning-just great.

You've been home alone all day.

Your father works from the earlier hours of the morning until the later hours of the day. He is a contractor, he has been since you were a little girl. Ever since your mother, his wife, left the two of you, he's been awfully career focused.

It isn't necessarily a bad thing but you miss your father dearly, all the time. You're glad he's working though, it's a massive distraction. Your mother left the two of you a little over three years ago. Within that time, a lot has changed. You and your dad have grown more distant. You two are close, yes, but he's been too down in the dumps. You've told him numerous times to just go on a dating site or ask a pretty lady out but he completely shuts it down immediately.

That doesn't matter right now though, you have to get it off of your mind.

You've been studying for what feels like forever and you're getting awfully hungry-you've hardly ate today. You tend not to. The stress of school causes you to forget to. You know your dad will be home soon, it's possible he'll bring home some dinner. Practically everyday he does since he can't cook and he also doesn't want to burden you with cooking either.

Until he's home, you'll just focus on your school work.

You've been flipping through this damned pamphlet for like an hour and have gotten barley any progress done. It's hard to. You've got so many things on your mind. Your mother, your friends, Joel...

Shit, Joel...

He floods your mind constantly.

Admittedly, you've been hooking up with your dad's best friend. It started back in June-it is September now.

It was when he picked you up from Campus one day. Your dad had asked him to, trusted him to-you two fucked in his truck. You think about it often and how it all went down. One second he was driving, the next he was fingering you then he was deep inside of you as you rode him hard & fast. You'd never came like that before. That dick has some powers or something.

Then it happened again when you dropped lunch off to your dad at work.

Joel caught and glimpse of you and pretended to want to show you something in his little office then boom, he had you in his desk as he pounded into you.

You can't help but think about him. You get so wet at the simple mere thought of him. He knows what he does to you; He knows damn well. Whenever you two sext, he makes sure you cum just by his stupid, slutty messages.

You haven't seen him in a week or so and you two haven't hooked up since the last time which was when he fucked you at his place. You had lied to your dad, telling him you were going over to your friend McKennas house but truly, you headed over the Joel's. That's where he ate you out so good then fucked you, lovingly and passionately. You miss it. You miss him.

Suddenly, you heard your dad calling for you from downstairs. It sounded like he was in the kitchen.

"Sweetheart, I'm home, I brought you some dinner!" Yay! You were happy now and you can finally have a break-you totally deserve it. "Coming!" You shouted. You stood up and shut your music off, shutting your bedroom door as you exited it. You stammered down the stairs with haste, excited to eat. It smelt like Mexican food, you could smell it anywhere. You usually get the chimichanga with orange rice, it is heavenly!!!

Hopping off of the last step, you adjusted your tank top and walked through the open archway that led into the kitchen. On the marble island counter, you saw a bag of food and assumed yours was in there too. You glanced over at the brown table in the dining room and saw your dad. "Hi!" You said with a gleeful voice. You treaded to the bag and began to go through it, grabbing out the package with your name written on it. "Hi darling." Your dad said softly, he was already eating.

Were you two about to have an actual father-daughter dinner together? This is bound to end up in the history books.

You brought your container over to the table and right as you were about to sit down, a pair of fingers wrapped around the chair. You knew those fingers immediately-they were inside of you not to long ago. What the hell is Joel doing here? "Oh yeah, forgot to say something, Joel is here. He offered to put your new dresser together. You know I would darling but I have paperwork to do in my Study." This is just your fucking luck.

"Hey." Joel whispered, gazing at you. "Hi Joel." You breathed in deeply. The eye contact between the two of you was intense and clearly had sexual tension hosted in it. Your father cleared his throat and pointed at the chair. Joel pulled it out for you and you sat down and began to eat.

"I can get started on the dresser now. Where's it at?" Joel asked your father. "Just upstairs in her room. First door on your right." "Alrighty." Joel nodded and walked off.

You couldn't believe your goddamn dad let Joel go into your room to build your dresser. At this point, you'd rather do it yourself. It's not that you dislike Joel, not at all, but it's so difficult to be around the man. He makes you so aroused so easily. You practically need him.

You cut into a piece of the food and took a bite, chewing quickly. Your father was eating his dinner as well, he ordered some tacos, that's his usual. "How was work?" You asked. "Boring. We had to men fired today, bout goddamn time." You nodded at his words. "How's College been?" "Stressful." "You're a smart girl, I bet you're doing amazing." Your father praised you which honestly felt amazing.

"I have a test tomorrow on environmental science, I'm frustrated studying for it." "I'd help if I could but I never took that class. Just try your best, my dear, you'll do just fine." You were grateful for his confidence in you.

The food was really good, especially the rice. It felt great to finally eat. "Is your food good?" "Yeah dad, thank you for getting me some." "Of course." He welcomed you. You continued to eat. There was an urge though-an urge to go and check on Joel. Not necessarily check up on him, rather jump in his pants. You need him, the urge is present and so very clear.

You decided to eat a bit more before you'd excuse yourself.

"I was thinking that this weekend I'll stay over at Lydia's." "Lydia? You haven't spoken of her in a while." Wow! He actually noticed! There's a dad point for him. "Yeah well, girls fight, it's what we do. I miss her though. We want to see that new movie." "Do you need any money?" "No thanks dad, I have some." You assured him. In all actuality, Joel gave you some money recently, he enjoys spoiling you.

You scooped up some rice and ate it, chewing more slowly now. You didn't want to seem as if you were in a rush, that would just make this dinner awkward. You love your father, truly, you don't want to make him feel as though you want to get away from him. Your yearn for Joel is just so much more.

"We should have Chinese food tomorrow." You giggled, sipping from your water bottle. "That's funny because I was going to order that tonight but I switched last minute." Your dad chuckled. "We can definitely have Chinese tomorrow." You two smiled at each other. You love spending time with your dad like this.

After taking a couple more bites, you cleared your throat and sipped your water. "Dad, I'm gonna go help Joel. I feel bad after all, I could be building it." A little white lie can take you far. "Sure thing darling, I'll put your food away. I'll just be in the basement doing my work, ok? Holler if you need me, either one of yous." "Got it. Love you, thanks for dinner, it was tasty." You kissed your dad on the head and rushed up the stairs; So much for not seeming urgent.

You heard the sound of shuffling as you walked up the stairs. He must've already started working. You were nervous. You two haven't talked one on one in a bit.

Entering your bedroom, you saw Joel's burly figure kneeled as he was screwing some pieces together. He looked up at you with a smirk before talking, "Hey sweet thing." "Hi Joel." You kneeled down beside him. There were screws and other random teeny parts beside him. He was determined to get this dresser complete for you. There was also a toolbox a few inches from his body.

"Do you need any help?" "Not at all, this is easy." "Okay." You chuckled. You were extra nervous now, very much on edge. The tension between you two was something else. You wish you had the balls to just make a move.

The dresser appeared to only be in the beginning stages of completion. It wasn't surprising, he only started minutes ago. "Thank you for doing this." "S'okay, anytime, anything for you." He hummed.

You finally built the courage to say something to him, anything. Anything that would indicate you yearned for him, longed for him.

Joel stood up and walked over to your other dresser, grabbing some random miscellaneous tool. "I've been thinking about you." You admired. You were still on your knees, just looking up at him as he stared down at you. "That a fact?" "Mhm." You nodded. "Been thinkin' 'bout you too baby." Joel whispered. You looked behind you and scooted over to your bedroom door, closing it & locking it all while remaining on your knees.

"You have?" "I always am." Joel grunted, ambling towards you. You wanted him even more now. He's so attractive, so sexy. "What have you been thinking about?" "You know... Your face, your body, your touch and how good it would feel if you had me down your throat." He was such an ass in the best way possible. You giggled and looked down at his crotch area. He was wearing his work pants with a leather belt. "Is that what you want?" "Hm?" "For me to give you a blowjob?" You said seductively, slowly inching your way towards him.

He got the hint and chuckled. "What if your dad hears?" "He won't, he said he's going down to his study." You reassured him. Your hands were already at his belt. He scoffed and snickered. "Such a dirty girl, you're so needy." He slightly degraded you. He knows you're into it. "You need me down your throat." Joel grunted. You messed with his belt till you tossed it to the side, quickly pulling his stained jeans down along with his briefs.

His erect cock sprung out. He was rock hard. He's also so big, so long, so girthy. You've never had it so good. You gazed up at him, your eyes locking with his dark brown eyes. You licked your lips sexually and bit the lower one-pre-cum squirting out of his tip as you did. "Goddamn baby." He groaned, admiring you. You smiled and looked down at his member. It was directly in front of you, just waiting to feel your pretty wet lips around it. You did in fact need him down your throat. You want to feel his warm seed seep down your tight throat.

You wrapped your pink lips around his pale tip. You licked up his pre-cum, allowing it to coat your tongue. You heard him moan from above you. It's adorable how easily you get him going. He tasted amazing. "You're so pretty." He whispered, standing still and just letting you do your thing.

You shoved your head forward, taking him deep in your mouth. His cock is so big, you practically feel like you're choking on him anytime you blow him off; He loves it though. You held onto the base of his dick as you sucked him off, occasionally looking up at him. The first time you glanced up, his eyes were closed due to the intense pleasures but the second time, he was looking down at you. The look in his eyes was dark and stern. He looks so sexy when he's horny.

"Choke on me baby, that's it, good girl." Joel praised you. You love that too. You share not only a degrading kink, but a praising one too-you are a two in one deal.

Bobbing your head forward and backwards, you began to move it faster. You couldn't wait to feel him release. Him cum doesn't taste bad. You love it. You're obsessed with Joel in a way words couldn't describe. It's hard to explain. You don't particularly think you love him or are in love with him but... Maybe? You licked his tip, then all the way down his hardened dick, earning a twitch out of it. "Feels so damn good." He muttered, his hand going to your hair, the other remaining at his side.

The sounds of you gagging on his dick filled the room. Your spit was all around him and dripping onto the floor-you couldn't help it. He made a 'tsk' noise.

"Oh pretty baby, drooling for me, hm?" He teased. With his hand in your hair, he tugged your head upwards so you'd be looking at him. The grip he had on your hair was firm. "I'm gonna cum." Joel grunted, pushing your head for you now. All you did was use your tongue. You just kept slurping and sliding your wet tongue along the base of his length.

With only a few more licks & sucks, you felt his warm, gooey fluid flood down your throat. Like the good girl you are, you swallowed every last drop for him. "Jesus Christ..." He panted out, still holding your soft, silky hair. "That's it darlin'." Joel murmured.

You pulled away, wiping away the excess cum from your lips, cleaning them off. You looked up at him with watery eyes and he cooed. "Come here princess." You listened, you couldn't. You can't resist him.

As you began to lift yourself up, he pulled you into him. Your lips pressed against his. His hands went to your ass cheeks, squeezing both of them as he slipped his tongue into your wet, needy mouth. "Mmph." You moaned, caressing his scruff as the two of you made out passionately. You loved feeling his tongue in your mouth-you could just think about it flicking your clit. "Need to fuck you." He growled, bringing his hand to your ass, hard.

You giggled against his lips, sliding your tongue along his.

"Do you think you could be quick & quiet." "I know I can, the question is, can you?" Joel teased, caressing your ass as the two of you made out. It felt so good, so pleasurable. Yes, you could. Anything for him. You nodded, indicating you could. You seriously need him-now.

Joel practically tossed you onto your bed. You snickered and pulled your shorts down, along with your panties. Joel's eyes were stuck on your lower half the entire time, he was clearly enthralled. "Are you going to sit there and gawk or fuck me?" You bit your lip, laying your head against your soft, large pillows. He scoffed and mounted you, his arms holding himself up on either side of you. "This what you want babygirl?" "You know I want it, I need it." You were basically begging at this point.

With a chuckle, Joel pumped himself a couple times before aligning his cock with your entrance. You were still beyond soaked-it'd be enough lubricant. You were a bit nervous. With your father in the same house, just two stories below, he could potentially hear the two of you. You'll just pray for the best; Joel can keep you silent.

You winced slightly as he pushed his girthy dick inside of you, it was extremely hard; You were surprised he was able to come back from his high so quickly. "Joel..." You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I know baby, I know." He grunted, becoming used to the feeling of your tight cunt around him. "Missed this." He whispered to you. He brought himself down to your face, kissing you a few times before he began to thrust into you at a decent pace, knowing you could take it.

With every movement, you could feel him going deeper inside of you. His cock rubbed so well against your clenched walls. You needed this, and you got it. You love it whenever he fucks you; You go dumb on his dick.

You couldn't help but watch his face, the way it contorted and shifted. You are honored by the way you're able to make him feel. He gets pussy drunk so easily. "You're so damn tight." He groaned, his mouth agape as he stared down at you. The stare the two of you shared was loving and lustful. You two needed each other. You would've never imagined you'd be getting fucked by your dad's friend but, here you are. Here the two of you are.

As he picked up the pace, his force got rougher. His pelvis was slamming into you; Your thighs will definitely be bruised after this. Your bed was slightly creaking to, but not loud enough to where your father may hear. "Just like that." You whined. Your head tilted backwards. The pleasure is immense, it's so much.

Joel slowly removed your arms from around your neck as he pinned them to the bed. You love being able to touch him just as much as you love being restrained. "Wish we could do this more often," Joel hummed, "I love seeing you like this baby." He added on. You giggled, gazing at him. "I need this more often." "Ya, you do, don't ya?" Joel was so cocky. "Need me inside of you, always." You moaned at his words. He isn't wrong.

At this point, he was pounding into you. Every thrust, every slip & slide, every movement in general was bringing you closer and closer to your breaking point.

"You feel so fuckin' good."

"I wanna see you cum around me."

"Gonna fill this pretty pussy up."

Each sentence also brought you closer. He is such a dirty man.

"Look at you, lookin' dumbed out as I fuck you."

"Just a little dirty slut."

"Keep takin' it darlin'."

Every. Sentence.

"I think I'm gonna cum." You whined. You attempted to get your wrists out of his grasp but your attempts were futile. "Please, don't stop." You begged, closing your eyes tightly. "Mmm, cum for me." And just like that, you did. Just by his words, you can so easily finish.

You moaned softly. Your entire back arched as your orgasm washed over you. You could feel your already tight walls clench further, and that only helped Joel cum sooner. You felt his semen spill inside of you, marking it's territory. "Goddammit." You heard Joel mumble under his breath.

Both of you were shaking with pleasure as you two both came down from your high. Sadly, no aftercare can happen, your father is just downstairs-no risks.

"That was perfect." Joel whispered, leaning up at kissing your nose, then your forehead. You laughed and breathed in deeply, "I'll be thinking of this next time I touch myself." "Oh babygirl, you better." Joel snickered, kissing you passionately before unfortunately having to pull away.

"C'mon sweet thing, let's get dressed before your daddy comes up here." "Ugh, alright." You obliged.

What a perfect evening...

[goddessinnerglow]

Become Your Best Version Before 2025 - Day 7

Building Better Habits

So, yesterday we talked about creating a personal mission statement. I hope it helped you get a little clearer on what you really want from 2025. And if you haven’t gotten to it yet, no worries! It’s there waiting for you whenever you’re ready. Now, today, let’s chat about something that can make all the difference in turning that mission statement into real-life action: building better habits.

You know, it’s easy to think that changing our lives means making huge, dramatic shifts, like completely overhauling your entire routine or signing up for a year-long gym membership. But I’ve got a little secret for you: It’s the small changes that add up to big results over time. Don’t believe me? Stick with me for a sec.

Imagine this: You’re standing in front of the kitchen counter with a cup of tea in hand, scrolling through your phone. You’ve had a crazy day at work and feel like you deserve some relaxation, right? But then you stop and think, how can I use this time to move toward my goals? What if instead of diving into social media, you set the phone down for 5 minutes and just breathe or read a few pages of a book? That’s it. It’s simple, but it’s powerful.

I’m not talking about doing a complete 180 on your life today, just about carving out a little space for something that moves you in the direction of your best self. Small habits like these are actually the key to creating lasting change. They sneak up on you, turning into something much bigger without you even realizing it.

Here’s an example: Let’s say you want to get healthier before the new year. Instead of starting with an intense workout routine that’s hard to stick with, how about you start by drinking a glass of water every morning when you wake up? Then, once that becomes a part of your routine, add something else, like taking a walk after dinner or swapping your afternoon soda for herbal tea. These small shifts will eventually snowball, and soon enough, your overall health will be better than ever.

I know it’s tempting to try and change everything at once, but here’s the truth: Trying to change too much too quickly will only set you up for burnout. Instead, focus on one habit. Be specific. Want to read more? Set the goal to read one page every night. One page, that’s it. Stay consistent. No matter what, show up for that one page every night. Eventually, you’ll find that reading becomes a natural part of your routine. And remember, celebrate your wins. Don’t wait until you’ve read a whole book. Celebrate that one page. Seriously, give yourself credit for showing up and sticking to it.

This approach is a lot like what we talked about with setting SMART goals, right? The "small" part is just like making sure your goals are specific and realistic, something that you can do today that’s still meaningful. We’re breaking things down into simple, manageable actions that add up to big results, one step at a time.

When I first started setting daily goals, I knew I needed to create habits that would help me manage my time better. Instead of diving straight into complicated time-management systems, I started with one simple habit: writing a to-do list the night before. No fancy planner. No specific apps. Just a piece of paper and a pen. It took maybe five minutes, but it helped me wake up with clarity the next day. Over time, this simple act turned into a consistent habit that made a huge difference in how productive I felt.

Okay, now it’s your turn. Think about one small habit you can work on today, something that’ll take just a few minutes but will make a real impact. It could be anything: drinking water, stretching, journaling, or even just sitting in silence for 3 minutes. Make it small. Make it simple. And most importantly, start.

Don’t worry about getting it perfect. It’s not about being flawless; it’s about showing up and making progress, even if it’s just a little bit at a time.

And, as always, I’d love to hear how it’s going. Drop a comment about the small habit you’d like to start implementing.

♡ ☆:.｡ Keep glowing, babes! ♡ ☆:.｡ With love, Goddess Inner Glow.