#I started 4/20 early and started thinking about lips

[springwitch8]

flowers and firsts (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: being the gracious friend you are, you offer to share your weed with melissa and jacob for a fun friday night at their place. when jacob goes to bed, things get heated between you and your favorite coworker.

warnings: smut (18+), consensual high sex, recreational marijuana use (be responsible), strap-ons, praise kink, vibrators, soft melissa, stoner reader, attempts at comedy (it's a fun fic guys), mario kart 8 GONE SEXUAL

notes: happy 4/20. this wasn't requested, but my OCD is beating the fuck out of me rn and writing it brought me comfort. let me know what you think. much love from your favorite slutty stoner 💚

"i know kids are curious, but eighth grade is a bit early to try weed, right?" jacob bounced his leg anxiously as he raised the question to his friends in the teachers' lounge. one of his students had just been suspended for bringing marijuana to school, and jacob was characteristically worried about the kid.

"i started in tenth grade, but teenagers are growin' up younger and younger these days," melissa responded. barbara raised her eyebrows in shock, and melissa reacted with an amused half-smile. "like trouble over here. when was your first time, hon?"

you tried to ignore the innuendo as melissa invited you into the conversation. you had been hired to teach the third grade a few months ago. you and melissa had a rapport from the first moment you walked into the lounge. every time you were in a room together, you made each other laugh. melissa made you feel at ease in your new workplace, and you felt lucky to have her.

because you both got along so well, ava often paired you up for team-building exercises and combined-class activities. the two of you weren't exactly close friends yet, but you had chemistry. that much was obvious to everyone at abbott.

"tenth grade for me, too," you answered between sips of your morning coffee. "a friend and i did it in the bathroom before art class. good memories."

"what, did you have some kinda fancy vape pen?" melissa cocked an eyebrow at you.

"i wouldn't call it fancy, but yeah, we mostly smoked carts," you explained. "bought 'em from the upperclassmen in the parking lot before school. i'm pretty sure they weren't pure weed, though. we had to be smoking battery acid, or plastic or something."

"god, your generation is weird. smokin' chemicals out of a flash drive," melissa said, gesturing wildly to convey her amazement. "the first time i got high was in detention. my buddy steve would sneak in and bring us cigarettes and blunts. they all looked the same, so we played russian roulette with it. now everybody walks around with those neon devices in their pockets."

"i can't tell if you're being serious or if you're referencing the breakfast club," you giggled, nudging the redhead's shoulder jokingly as you sat down next to her.

"ha ha, very funny, little miss," melissa deadpanned. you had asked her to stop calling you "kid" a few weeks ago. she respected your wishes by coming up with all sorts of endearing synonyms to call you instead. "what about you, jacob? you used to vape—ever experimented with mary jane?"

"or mark john?" you added. melissa snorted and gave you a playful swat on the arm.

"no, actually, i haven't," jacob said, rolling his eyes at your quip. "i didn't have many friends in high school or college, and after that i had to be drug tested regularly for teachers without borders. i never got the chance."

"well, if you ever feel like trying something new, i have plenty to share," you offered. "can't have you over at my place, though; every time i bring guests around, my crazy neighbor thinks they're cia operatives."

everyone in the room except melissa gave you a shocked look. barbara looked especially aghast, her brightly painted lips curled into an 'o' shape.

"damn, i thought janine was the only after-school stoner here. what a pleasant surprise!" ava broke the silence.

"i suppose i would partake given one of those weed pens you mentioned," jacob said to you. "the only thing i've been vaping lately is air, and it gets stale after a while."

"oh no, i haven't used a cart since high school," you clarified. "if you're smoking with me, you're smoking. don't worry, it's easy. just like vaping, but better in every way."

"first of all, no smoke circle is happening under my roof without me." melissa chimed in, looking at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded—of course you wanted her there. "and second, where do you even get the weed? if you buy the legal stuff from new york or massachusetts, you're not bringin' it to my house."

"i wouldn't dream of it," you affirmed. "i only smoke authentic philly weed. don't worry about it; i got a guy."

---

that friday night, you showed up on melissa's doorstep wearing a casual t-shirt dress, with a tote bag full of goodies slung over your shoulder. jacob was the one to answer the door.

"hey! come on in, melissa's making pizza," he said cheerfully, a bit jittery with anticipation.

you followed jacob inside and found melissa leaning over the kitchen island, smiling fondly at you. she was wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting striped shirt, with her hair loose and a bit messy from cooking. she looked radiant and comfortable.

"you know, the pizza will taste better if we smoke before dinner," you proposed.

"bold of you to assume my pizza could taste any better," melissa joked back.

"i'm game," jacob said. "i want the full marijuana experience."

"in that case, help me set up," you said to the history teacher. "i want you to see how everything works."

you laid the contents of your tote bag out on the island countertop: a ziploc baggie full of flower, a little purple grinder, a holographic pink bowl, and a yellow lighter with white flowers on it.

"jacob, this is a grinder," you said, uncapping the grinder and opening the ziploc bag. "we're gonna use it to break up the flower into little pieces."

"oh wow, that is... pungent," jacob remarked. he watched as you ground up the weed, then handed the pink glass bowl to him.

"and this is a bowl, or a pipe if you're lame," you said. "you wanna do the honors?"

jacob grinned and reached into the grinder, bouncing excitedly on his heels. you put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. he filled the bowl, looking to you for approval several times while he did it.

"awesome, we're ready," you said. melissa placed her pizza in the oven and joined the circle.

"let's take it out on the patio," melissa suggested.

she led you and jacob out to the patio, a small ledge overlooking the city with three chairs conveniently set up in a tight circle. it was 7pm and the sun had just begun its descent, casting philadelphia in an orange glow.

the three of you sat down. you held the bowl up to your lips and moved to light it, but melissa snatched the lighter from your hand. she leaned in and held the flame to the bowl, her face inches from yours. you tried to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than her painted lips or her vivid green eyes dancing all over you.

you took a long inhale of the smoke and blew it up toward the sky. melissa plucked the bowl out of your hand and took a hit. she held the smoke in her lungs for an impressive amount of time for someone who didn't smoke regularly. she passed the still-lit bowl to jacob.

as soon as jacob took his hit, you knew it was gonna hurt. he overestimated his own lung capacity, and he didn't even finish blowing the smoke out before he was coughing.

"happens to everybody, pal," melissa patted jacob's back to ease his pain.

"ugh!" jacob sputtered between coughs. "why didn't you guys tell me smoking hurts?"

---

several rotations later, the three of you were high. well, you and melissa were high; jacob was outright fried. not altogether unexpected, but funny as hell.

when melissa's pizza was done, you all resolved to eat outside so you could watch the sunset together.

"this is heavenly, mel," you moaned after a delicious bite of the pizza.

"ha!" jacob exclaimed, and you and melissa turned to him, confused. meeting melissa's gaze, he threw his arms up in the air—like he expected her to understand what he meant by that one noise. "she stole two syllables from your name. you can't just take syllables, y/n. they're not yours."

"since when do you care about private property rights?" you quipped back before turning your attention to melissa. "i'm serious though. this pizza is sooo good. like last-meal-on-death-row good."

"keep talkin' sweet like that, and you can call me whatever you want," melissa replied with a wink, sending a flood of warmth to your face.

"what were we talking about? just now?" jacob chimed in, his eyes wide and darting every which way.

"... i actually don't know," you said with a giggle. you tried to remember, you really did. but you could feel melissa's eyes on you, and you heard her words echoing in your head. and it was hard to focus on anything else.

"short term memory loss! add that to the list of things you guys didn't warn me about," jacob scoffed.

"jacob, eat your damn pizza," melissa cut in. a peaceful smile graced her lips as she stared out at the city skyline, now a twilight blue in the absence of the sun. "i've missed this feeling, everythin' all fuzzy and light. how are you holding up, lovebug?"

your heart fluttered at the endearing name. melissa, it seemed, wore her heart on her sleeve when she was high—judging by the adoring way she gazed at you while she awaited your response. maybe the weed was messing with your head, but you swore she'd never looked so beautiful.

her eyes lacked any trace of the fire you were used to seeing (though they were quite red). for once, she wasn't on guard. her plump lips curled around her wine glass as she took a sip of merlot, vocalizing her sensual appreciation with a hum.

her long auburn hair was tucked behind her ears, resting on her shoulders in loose waves instead of her preferred meticulous curls. you wanted to run your fingers through her locks, feel their softness and smell her shampoo.

entranced by the redhead, you forgot she had asked you a question. melissa tapped your knee in reminder.

"i feel perfect," was your soft reply. you were beaming brightly before the sentence even finished. rather than sitting in a chair, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. the colors of melissa's patio and the sky blended together in a beautiful, swirling mosaic. the sounds of the city were clear and pleasant as philly wound down for the night. "i'm so happy."

"glad to hear it, sunshine. but i'm pretty sure jacob is asleep," melissa chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. he didn't stir, remaining slumped and conked out in his chair. "he's been losin' sleep over the kid who got suspended. bending over backwards trying to keep 'em on track."

"oh gosh," you said sympathetically before patting jacob a bit more firmly than melissa had. "jacob, hey. c'mon, it's time for bed. get up, go get cozy."

your words were slurred and hushed, but they seemed to pierce the veil of jacob's slumber as he awoke with a start.

melissa stood behind jacob's chair, gently rocking it back and forth to bring him back to the conscious world.

"can't go to bed, we just started," jacob grumbled, but his eyes were still closed. he was dangerously close to falling asleep again.

"from the looks of it, you're either gonna spend the night sleepin' in this chair or in your bed, so get up," melissa said resolutely.

"yeah, and besides, there's always next time," you assured jacob as he stretched and groaned his way into an upright position. you made eye contact with melissa, and this time you winked.

---

after helping jacob into bed (his motor skills really deteriorated when he got high) and smoking another bowl together, you and melissa were ready to continue your night.

"alright, sweetheart, it's down to you and me," melissa said, sitting down next to you on the couch. "what do you wanna do?" you pondered the question, looking around the room for inspiration.

"oh my god, you have a nintendo switch?" you asked excitedly, gesturing to the black tablet plugged in next to the cable box.

"that's jacob's. he showed me one of the games on there—animal crossing, i think it was. i don't get it. why play a game if you can't win?"

"alright, i know what we have to do now," you said, walking over to jacob's game cabinet and pulling out mario kart 8. holding the case up for melissa to see, you grinned. "four races. whoever wins gets whatever she wants from the other."

you were distantly aware of the implications, but you were too high to reconsider what you'd proposed.

you figured melissa would want something from your thoroughly decorated classroom if she won. if you won, you'd ask her to make you a custom pizza.

"you have no idea what you just started, hon," melissa said with a confident smirk.

"may the best woman win."

---

how the hell was she so good at everything?

melissa had needed some time to warm up to the switch controls, complaining about how the little red rectangle was too small to hold comfortably. but she was a quick learner with skilled fingers, and soon she was absolutely demolishing you.

it also didn't help that your coordination escaped you when you were high. you had driven off of too many ledges to count.

"two wins in a row for luigi," melissa bragged as she crossed the finish line of the third race. "hope you're ready to give me whatever i want, princess. don't think i forgot about our bet."

"daisy won the first race," you pointed out calmly. "i can still bring it back. but you know what this last race has to be?"

"what?"

"rainbow road. it's the perfect final showdown course," you explained, navigating to the course with your controller.

"get ready to be mine for a night," melissa said lowly. god, you knew she was talking about the bet, but she knew damn well what she was doing. by this point your panties were almost uncomfortably wet.

you leaned into her unconsciously as the race countdown began. you both held your controllers tight, almost shoulder to shoulder.

3...

2... (you push down the gas pedal button)

1...

GO!!!

daisy took off with a boost of speed thanks to your timing. luigi had a false start as his engine blew out. you cheered, and melissa cursed.

"how the fuck do you do that?" she asked, exasperated.

"play the game!" you demanded without looking away from the screen.

the competition was intense. you and melissa weaved around curves, nearly fell off the road, passed and bumped each other. neither one of you spoke until lap 3.

coming up on one of the last turns of the last lap, your hands jerked and you swerved. reacting on instinct, you bent your arms dramatically in the other direction to overcorrect.

melissa's arm bumped into yours, sending your controller flying out of your hands.

"hey!" you said, thinking she was cheating.

"hey yourself," she said, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

if she was gonna play dirty, so were you. you thrust your arm forward to grab her controller. but she saw you coming from a mile away. effortlessly, she shifted the controller into her left hand alone and held it up and out of your reach.

desperately competitive (and stupid high), you launched yourself toward the controller. you'd stop at nothing to get even. before you could snatch it out of her grasp, though, your balance faltered. you fell out of your position and started to fall backwards off the couch.

melissa dropped the controller and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you back up before you could hurt yourself. there was only one problem with this heroic act.

you were in her lap now.

her hands remained clasped at the small of your back, and your balance shifted forward. you put your arms out for stability, and wrapped them around her neck.

"careful, don't hurt your pretty head," melissa cooed. the two of you stared at each other for a moment. she surged forward and pressed her lips to yours.

if sitting outside with her felt like floating, kissing her and feeling her body against yours felt like riding the ocean waves. but unlike the atlantic, she was warm. you relaxed into her warmth as her tongue licked into your mouth.

you felt her tongue everywhere. in response to her, you gave a few tentative kitten licks. she moaned, she moaned, and pulled back before giving you one last kiss on the lips.

she stared at you with heated eyes for a while before switching her focus to the tv.

"look, baby," she said smugly while gesturing to the tv screen, where luigi was driving victory laps after placing first on rainbow road. "i won. you remember what that means?"

it was a fair question, considering how many conversations you forgot happened tonight. still, you nodded shyly and bit your lip.

"smart girl," melissa praised. "can you guess what i want from you?"

you shook your head no with a frown. melissa beamed and kissed you on the forehead. then she leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"i wanna touch you everywhere. i wanna hear your pretty voice moan my name and see your face scrunch up when you come. i want you to feel me all over you, and i want you to spend the rest of your life craving that feeling," melissa said her piece all at once, as if revealing a long-buried secret to you and herself.

you swallowed.

"would you let me do that?"

you nodded, pressing your forehead against hers.

"i need to hear you say it," she said softly, so softly you almost missed it.

"i want you, melissa. i have since the day we met."

that was all the confirmation melissa needed to attack your face and neck with kisses.

"sorry, let me just," melissa said as she pulled away abruptly and reached for the tv remote. she changed it to cable mode and navigated to the jazz music channel. "there we go, perfect."

"you're ridiculous," you giggled upon seeing melissa's proud face.

"honey," she leaned in to nip at your ear before whispering, "watch your mouth. you wanna be on my good side tonight, trust me."

you shuddered and wiggled in her lap, aching for her touch. a slow grin spread across her face and her hands found your legs, running up your thighs and lightly dragging her nails along your skin. they soon made their way up your waist to your breasts, cupping and squeezing them. melissa even took two fingernails and circled your nipples teasingly, to which you squeaked.

"do you know how many times i thought about havin' you like this?" melissa whispered. her voice was sweet like molasses and flowed right through you. you could feel your nipples tingling where her fingers had been, swimming in a bubble of desire. "in my lap, all whiny and squirmy."

she pinched your nipple and you keened. you held your breath as her hands once again traveled to your thighs, making a beeline for your core.

"and now i got my angel in my arms," she said, gently spreading your legs for better access. you sucked in a breath and trembled when her palm caressed you through your panties. "but i gotta say, even in my imagination you were never this wet for me."

she punctuated the sentence by pressing her pointer finger on your clit through the fabric, drawing tiny circles. you gasped and hid your face in her neck. the high made every touch feel like it rippled through your whole body. the world felt like it had been knocked off its axis, and melissa was your new center of gravity.

"aw, don't be embarrassed, babygirl. it's cute you're so sensitive," melissa soothed, easing you out of the crook of her neck to face her again. she trailed her fingers down to swirl around your wetness under your panties. "let me take care of you, yeah?"

---

a few minutes later, you were spread out on melissa's bed, naked save for your (now useless) panties. she'd practically carried you to her room as you were baked and horny and unable to walk straight.

in spite of your writhing and needy whines, the redhead took her time to savor you. she kissed every inch of your torso before she even considered taking your panties off, mumbling sweet nothings between love bites.

when she finally pulled away to admire her work, the view did not disappoint. you were panting and covered in melissa's marks, and god, you were her favorite piece of art ever created. all hers.

"alright, sweet girl, i know," she cooed as you continued to plead for her touch with your best pout and puppy eyes. unable to resist you, melissa hooked two fingers in the waistband of your panties. "i'm gonna slip these off ya, okay? there, down they go."

melissa discreetly tucked the saturated material into her pocket. not as a trophy or proof of her conquest; rather, a token from the first of many magical nights with her girl. she would treasure it.

she wasted no time getting situated between your legs so she was face-to-face with your pussy. she inhaled deeply, basking in the heady aroma of your arousal. you overwhelmed her senses. everything she saw, everything she smelled, everything she felt, everything she thought—it was all one big, bottomless pool of you. and there was only one sense left for you to conquer.

the first drag of her tongue up your slit set you ablaze, flames licking from your core all the way to your extremities and your head. she let out a small noise of appreciation, and you felt it more than you heard it.

"you taste like fuckin' heaven," melissa rumbled between determined licks through your folds. her comment reminded you of the pizza, and you found yourself amused at how much things had changed in just a few hours.

"last-meal-on-death-row good?" you joked, and melissa seized the moment of levity to latch onto your clit. you cried out before remembering jacob was sleeping in the next room. you clapped a hand over your mouth.

"mhmmmmm," she moaned in agreement, and the vibrations on your bundle felt incredible. "but if you're still crackin' jokes, i'm not doin' my job."

with that, she shut you up completely. her tongue poked at your clit between harsh sucks. your back arched and melissa changed her strategy, prodding at your entrance with her tongue while her fingers took over on your clit. when her tongue penetrated you, you bit down on your hand to keep from screaming.

"i said i wanna hear you, remember?" melissa pulled out to chastise you.

"but jacob—" you managed.

"is passed out. he's dead to the world. now sing for me, angel," melissa's tongue dove back into your weeping cunt and lapped at your walls. you wailed her name.

"oh, mel, right—ahhh—there!" you mewled as her tongue teased your most sensitive spot. now that she'd located her target, melissa changed her play once again. two fingers replaced her tongue and crooked into your g-spot while her mouth returned to your clit. "close..."

melissa nodded her permission, her mouth busy with your button. with another hard roll of your clit between her lips and drive of her fingers into your sweet spot, you fell apart. you moaned and cried unbidden as she worked you through your orgasm, which felt twice as powerful thanks to the intoxication factor. your body shook in the grip of seemingly endless waves of heat.

your climax eventually died down and you squirmed away from melissa's touch. your mouth opened in dismay when instead of staying by your side, she stood up and disappeared into her closet.

after a short while, the older woman reappeared by your side. she was now nude and sporting a long, girthy strap-on. she placed a few other items on the nightstand, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the thick faux cock. unless it was to look at her gorgeous tits, which swung with her every move. she was a goddess.

"okay, sweets, i'm gonna spell this out nice and slow because i know your brain is a little messy right now," she said as she crawled on top of you. "i'm gonna fuck you with my strap. and i know it's so big, but i have this to help you take it."

melissa reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a green mini wand vibrator. her intentions were clear, and you gulped. the redhead peppered kisses all over your face in reassurance.

"now relax, little love. let me in," melissa instructed as the wand buzzed to life. she smeared your wetness around your clit with her fingers, then pulled back its hood to position the vibrator tightly against your nub. even the lowest setting was a shock at such a direct angle.

while you were distracted trying to adjust to the clitoral stimulation, melissa aligned the tip of the dildo with your entrance and pushed in. you both groaned, and you felt yourself stretch around the toy. melissa turned up the vibrations on your clit as she progressed to being fully seated inside you.

"that's a good girl, so brave," melissa cooed. you thrashed underneath her, the sensations overstimulating you. the pain of the intrusion staved off a powerful orgasm from the wand vibrator.

again, you wondered if the drugs were messing with your mind—the dildo felt indistinguishable from a part of mel's body, and you were full to the brim of her.

as she began to rock her hips back and forth, you saw her bite her lip. you assumed that the strap had some kind of clit attachment for her based on the telltale signs of pleasure.

melissa built up a steady rhythm and drank in your pathetic sounds of pleasure. her tits swung in your face with every thrust, and you made a mental note to give them proper attention next time. with another tactical increase to the wand's speed, you felt yourself approaching the edge once more.

"you gettin' close? yeah, i can tell. feels too good to hide it, huh bunny?" that was a new one. you clenched at her words and she set the wand to its maximum power, rubbing it up and down on your clit. your vision went white and you spun out of reality as you came. "that's my girl. good little princess, coming so hard for me."

with a few more thrusts, melissa also came to a release. she shuddered and shimmied her hips at random while she rode it out. as soon as she recovered, she turned off the green wand and relieved you. next, she eased herself out of and off of you.

with a chaste peck to your lips, she sat upright and reached for the nightstand. she smiled at your fucked-out expression as she laid out the pajamas she'd picked out for you.

you watched in awe as she took off the strap and put on her own sleep clothes. her red hair was wild from the night's activities and glowed like a warm hearth against the white backdrop of her walls.

in your state, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with melissa and fall asleep. but she insisted that you get ready for bed so that you'd be comfortable through the night. she guided you into the bathroom and gave you a new toothbrush to use.

returning to the bedroom, you found a silky green nightgown with flowers on it waiting on the bed for you. given your exhausted and intoxicated state, melissa had to help you into it. neither of you minded. as a reward for your cooperation, she gave you a kiss.

the two of you snuggled into bed, tucked in together with you curled up against her chest. the tides of slumber lapped at your feet.

"g'night, lovebug," melissa whispered as you drifted off. "sleep well. see you in the morning."

and tomorrow would be the first of a lifetime of tomorrows waking up in her arms.

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.4 | END)

W/C 7.2k #NSFW, male!reader, top!reader, bottom!sukuna, ABO elements, heian sukuna, typical kitsune shapeshifting, jp mythology, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, unhealthy relationships, questionable relationships, power imbalance, ABO elements, gojo/megumi/yuuji/nobara cameos, yuuji/megu/nobara are early 20s, sukuna is controlling/possessive/obsessive, rough sex, not edited enough (oh well) Note: It's finally over (dies like Noctis)

tags: @kamote-kuneho @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah @memedealer-exe @f0th3rr @boretheral @cicithemess @paastaboi @someone0vx

“Google says kitsune are usually attuned to one of the thirteen elements,” Nobara prattled, scrolling through the random Japanese mythology website on her phone. “Itadori, what's his element, huh?” 

Yuuji pursed his lips, face growing deadpan as he thought and quickly realized he had no clue.

“Uh…” 

Nobara grimaced. “Useless.” 

“Hey, I didn't know they were all, y'know, elemental-y, okay?! Jeeze!” 

Megumi sighed and shook his head. “We're supposed to be keeping an eye on him, not arguing about garbage you found online.” 

The two country bumpkins followed Megumi's gaze to where you snoozed under a tree. It felt a little strange seeing you donned in one of college's spare uniforms, but you seemed quite pleased by the modern take on fashion and aesthetic. Yuuji wondered if you'd take to modifying the plain, black clothes the way you'd done so in the past.

“Oi, kyuubi!” Nobara called as she wandered in your direction, much to the chagrin of Megumi. “I got a question for ya.”

You spared her a sleepy glance before sitting up and stretching with a wide, toothy yawn. It almost took the three aback, seeing how sharp and distinctly not-human your teeth were.

“You and everyone else, evidently.” You hummed and combed your tail with your fingers. “Speak.”

“Is it true that your kind are, like, elemental or something?” 

Megumi sighed as he rolled up beside her. “She means to ask if kitsune are elementally-attuned, whether it be to fire, water, earth–that sort of thing.” 

“I literally just said that!” Nobara hissed as she smacked Megumi's arm. The raven didn't react in the slightest. 

“Yeah!” Yuuji piped up. His face grew red as soon as your lazy stare flicked to him. “I-I, uh–like, y'know, fire. Or…you talked about fire?” 

“You are so tactless. It's starting to get sad.” 

“Can it, Kugisaki!” 

You smiled. “It's true, more or less. I was taught my sort usually falls into one of the thirteen elements: celestial, wind, spirit, darkness, fire, earth, river, ocean, forest, mountain, thunder, sound, and time.

“Then, there are the broadly ‘bad’ sort, nogitsune, and the ‘good’ sort, zenko. Most say only zenko reach total divinity, but that's not always the case.” 

“Yikes, so the bad kitsune can be gods too?” Yuuji asked as he sat down with you and pulled at the grass idly. “Isn't that, y'know, bad?”

“Gods are all inherently bad, as far as I'm concerned,” you said.

“Gojo-sensei mentioned you were one,” Megumi offered as he and Nobara sat, too. “A god. The people revered you.” 

You snorted and covered your mouth the way you might have if you had the long sleeves of a kimono to aid you.

“They didn't mind me. I don't think they particularly liked me, considering what company I kept.” You hummed and straightened out your sleeve. 

“Yeah, but…you're not him, so what's the point in hating you?” Yuuji asked, and you couldn't help but feel more weight and worry behind the words. 

“I don't care what they thought of me. I only cared about what the palace residents thought. They were my family, in a sense.” 

“Even Sukuna?” Megumi asked. 

“That's such a stupid question, oh my god. Boys are so stupid,” Nobara said with a deadpan.

You smiled, though, and kindly still answered. 

“Especially Sukuna.” 

“Hey, hey! Sorry for the wait!” Gojo called across the field as he made a show of sauntering on over before teleporting in the blink of an eye. “So? Are we all–oooh, are we gossiping?”

“What, no?!”

“No.”

“No.” 

Gojo pouted. “My students always leave me out. Thankfully, my sweet, pious, precious (Name) is nice to me!”

“You're late, Satoru,” you sighed as you stood, tying back your chopped hair into the tiniest of ponytails. “What is the reason?”

Gojo whined and trotted up to you, rubbing and petting your ears to bring you back to his side of the issue.

“It's not my fault! All the higher-ups are sooo annoying and yap sooo much!” He shuffled behind you and played with your three lush tails much like a toddler would. “Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy that's not gonna get mad at the Gojo Satoru?” 

You sighed and flicked your ear, thwacking him in the forehead with it. “Let's not waste any more time, cretin.

“What're we even doing, Sensei?” Yuuji asked, rubbing the back of his head after raising his hand like he was in class. “You didn't really tell us anythin’.” 

“Yeah, I thought we were just watching the fox until he had to go back in his cage,” Nobara said, arms crossed and expression sour. “Seems kinda stupid. He's not even a threat.” But Yuuji knew there was little truth to that statement.

“I'm guessing the meeting was about relocating (Name).” Megumi looked at Gojo. “So what's the plan?” 

–

The five of you walked endlessly through the vast forest surrounding the college. Your gaze traveled up sky-scraping trees, admiring the ancient song of life only you could hear through the soil and air. Wind danced across the verdant canopy above, scattering beams of molten sunlight across the forest floor and dappling the shoulders of the sorcerers before you with golden kisses–a sight you so sorely missed from your tenure at the palace. 

The land was not crying here. You'd heard the distant sound from the concrete jungle resting far below the rise of the college, and it shrouded you with jaded confusion and contempt for what had been done to the world in your stead; if you'd been smarter, wiser to the plans of one, could you have prevented this? Or were humans simply inevitable with their evolution? Perhaps it was up to the Earth to find the yang after the yin.

“Okay, this is it!” Gojo called, snapping you from your rampant thoughts. 

You looked to where he gestured, and found a simple building. It was reminiscent of the college in its design–modern, but clearly inspired by traditional architecture–and it looked fairly new. A bell attached to a rope stood at the forefront, as did a well for mortals to throw their offerings before ringing the aforementioned chime. Beyond that, the shrine lacked character and decoration. It was a clean slate. 

You blinked owlishly, and tilted your head. “This is…?”

“A shrine! For our new on-campus god! How fun is that, huh?” Gojo smiled, proud for a reason you couldn't decipher. “You get to make it home!” 

The younger three all deadpanned, looking between each other, trying to parse if their teacher was delusional or just being a menace to society and doing this behind the council’s back. Honestly, it was up in the air. 

“I–is that even–” Megumi tried, but gave up and rubbed his face instead. 

“So…(Name)’s gonna be, like, our resident god, or something?” Yuuji wondered, feeling his heart pitter patter just a little faster. 

“Haha! Sure, if you want to think of it that way.” Gojo smiled and looked toward the blank canvas of a shrine. “In exchange for divine favour, we grant sanctuary. Home. A place to call your own.” 

You didn't say much, but your tails swished and flowed as you stared at the humble abode–your humble abode–and inhaled shakily. 

“I suppose this will do,” you conceded, still too unwilling to give Gojo the satisfaction of knowing he'd touched your heart. “It's a bit stingy, however.”

“STINGY?” 

“Indeed. Now, begone–I have work to do.” 

– 

Sukuna reached for you when he dreamed. He didn't need to sleep, he had no use for it as he was now, but he convinced himself into the realm of the unconscious regardless, searching for the doorway leading to your mind. 

And he tried night after night, day after day, searching and sitting outside the palace of your inner realm once he found the entrance. The door was the same as the one leading to your chambers in your shared home; a simple, sliding door of wood and paper. Beautiful. Comforting. 

He knew the door wouldn't open for him, not yet; he deduced what may have happened, and what that would have meant for you all and himself as a result. He'd have to be patient. Wait for you to let him in to confront him, or seek his comfort. 

But he didn't expect the door to open so suddenly behind him, sending him rolling onto his back and staring upside down at the most magnificent sight he'd ever beheld–a kyuubi, sitting poised across the room, dressed in a haori several sizes too big, waiting with his back turned as candlelight flickered and lulled the room into a lazy, sleepy haze.

Sukuna righted himself and stood, spirit flailing and tearing itself apart in his uncontrollable want for you, for a desire to return back to the simplicity of this time. But he couldn't go back. Maybe he could recreate it. 

“Fox,” Sukuna murmured, excitement igniting the small, human body he'd been forced to mold his soul into. It felt so much worse in this form, his want being so much more fucking unbearable and burning a hole in his damn chest and skull. 

You shifted, head turning the slightest toward him yet refusing to give way entirely. But, then you stood, and Sukuna suddenly understood how you felt in the presence of his overwhelming power. 

You stood tall. Proud. Powerful. Your ears pointed towards the heavens while your tails fanned against the gates of hell when you turned to face that lover of the past, the one you held so dear for decades. 

Sukuna almost felt weak in the knees (or was that somehow Yuuji interrupting his delusions?) when bright red markings caught the light, shimmering in divine sparks of orange and teal in the firelight–and your eyes. Your eyes. They burned with higher purpose. With unreadable certainty and alien understanding. You made Sukuna's gut coil with need. 

“My Sukuna,” you whispered to the room. You took a step forward, and Sukuna eagerly met you the rest of the way. “You look so…small.” 

He looked up at you–yes, up--and admired your face and godly stature and just how fucking tall and unearthly and powerful you were looming over him. 

“Stuck looking like this fucking runt while I'm in his body,” Sukuna explained bitterly. He reached a hand up while he spoke, and you graciously leaned down to let his skin touch yours. 

An ache curled under Sukuna's skin, flushing his complexion with heat and suffocating him in those unbearable sorcerer uniform garbs. His pants strained too tight, his jacket and hoodie made his core swelter and his mind grow fuzzy. It was torture. 

“He looks so much like you,” you drawled, holding Sukuna's face in kind. You hummed with sympathy when he moaned and leaned into your touch, only abandoning his own rediscovery of your features to hold your palms against him, to indulge in everything so wholly you. 

“Forgot what I look like, huh,” Sukuna huffed. “This brat looks like a beaten monkey.” 

“So did you.”

“Hey.” 

“But I adored you anyway, did I not?” 

Sukuna scanned over your face slowly, methodically, wondering. 

“Adore. You mean ‘adore’.” 

“Perhaps.” You smoothed a thumb over his cheekbone. “It's been some time.” 

“You chose me. You belong to me.” Sukuna's lip curled as he growled and forced your hands into his skin firmer as though to leave scars. “Mine. Only mine.” 

Your lips quirked upwards and Sukuna pulled you down to kiss you. His voice reverberated between your linked bodies as your tongue licked into his mouth far enough to nearly make him choke. You kindly pulled him flush against you, wrenching more pleased, needy noises out of him with no effort at all. 

“You're as starved as Yuuji,” you whispered as his hands fumbled with your ornate clothes, yanking and pulling at them with reckless abandon. 

“Shut up.” His grumbling lessened just a bit when you eased your robes open, exposing your perfect skin to him once again. 

“I believe it'd displease you if I stopped talking, no?” You tore the clothing off the other's body as he pulled you down to the floor with him, suddenly so eager to submit. 

Sukuna scoffed. “I–just touch me, fox.” 

It was your turn to purr and keen, basking in the soft tremble of anticipation the all-powerful choked on as he spread himself bare beneath you, your garbs cascading all around him like a waterfall–only you would get to see him, chest heaving, eyes swirling with lust and need, hidden behind a curtain of embroidered flames.

“Poor thing.” You dug your nails into his hips and dragged him toward you, prodding your aching length against his unprepared heat. “You've been so long without touch. Without love. Do you still think it's meaningless?” 

The curse snarled, and you caught him by the throat, pinning him in place and jamming your other hand's fingers down his throat before he could bark back at you. And just that simple torture had the king's hips twitching and bucking, slowly falling into time with the rhythm of your digits slipping in and out of his bratty mouth. 

“F-fuck you,” he gasped once his mouth fell empty. 

You chuckled smoothly. “It's simply food for thought.” You pressed two fingers into him and worked inside with ease despite the crushing heat clamping down around you. You didn't know if his sweet, little body wanted you to stay put or fill him faster. 

“Fuckin'--annoying, shithead, bratty fox–” he cut off with a ragged moan as you pressed against his prostate and rubbed against it slowly, firmly, deliciously. His eyes fell shut and his brows twitched up, a vivid look of desperation and concentration making him look far too vulnerable and breedable for his own good. 

“It's strange,” you hummed, working him a little faster and jamming your fingers against his sweet spot over and over. “I never thought you'd willingly submit.” 

“I need it,” Sukuna growled, fisting his hand around his weeping length and stroking to the beat of your fingers. His hips bucked forward and back, unsure of what searing pleasure to lean into more; luckily for him, you were keen to up the ante. 

Your fingers slipped out and Sukuna snarled, crimson eyes snapping open to brand you with frustration. You felt the whip of desperate commands about to crack off Sukuna's tongue, so you wasted no time filling him back up, stuffing him beyond his limits. 

The man almost gasped, though it could have just been the force of your cock punching the air out of his lungs. You pulled him against you, seating him to the base with a little effort and brute force. You knew he liked the pain. Pleasure was closely acquainted with it, after all. 

“This is what you wanted,” you murmured as you rocked into him. 

The curse didn't know if you beckoned an answer from him, or simply stated the facts. So, he didn't answer you. He instead gripped onto your shoulders to keep himself steady while you effortlessly drilled into his core with each and every thoughtful roll of your hips. 

And it felt good. An uncomfortable, searing stretch accompanied the deep plunges filling him beat after beat. His body tightened and clamped down around you, forcing your length to rub against the weakest, most sensitive spots inside of him–places no one would ever dream of hitting inside the unruly king. None besides you, of course. You were different. Better than the rest. Fit to fuck and fill him if Sukuna so desired it. 

“(Name),” he groaned when you changed up the angle, aiming to rub up against the ceiling of his insides with every thrust. You tortured his weak spot, and made a casual show of forcing his stomach to bulge and distend whenever you bottomed out entirely, and Sukuna reveled in it. He wanted to be yours. Just yours. 

“You're so sweet when you submit,” you cooed, leaning down and nuzzling against his neck as you fucked into him harder and faster. “You should have done so sooner.”

Sukuna should have clapped Back, but he couldn't; he was too busy trying to angle himself to somehow get you deeper. He was too busy trying to pull you closer, to graft his thick thighs to your scar-riddled sides like a branch on a tree. He couldn't spare a single braincell on your arrogant Teasing when all he could think was, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me–

“Now he's lost his voice,” you sighed. “Such a pity.” Your hips hit particularly hard to punctuate, and Sukuna grunted. 

“Again,” he choked out. “Fuck me like that.” 

You branded a smile into his skin with a hum. “Are you sure? I won't stop if it's too much.” 

Sukuna opened his bleary eyes and spied your nine tails fanned out, cloaking the ceiling from sight. It felt like staring death in the face. Maybe he'd been in its clutches this entire time. Maybe he wanted–needed–you to be the end of him.

Your hand found his throat again, and Sukuna nodded as best he could, too overwhelmed and overstimulated to get words out of his open mouth–but grunts and groans had no issue bursting through as you left mercy by the wayside and destroyed him as thoroughly as he requested. You were, after all, a selfless god.

Sukuna's eyes rolled back as his head tilted in kind, mouth left agape as you burned him alive; every push of your body into his lit new fires, and every second you stayed connected, more of his soul exhausted itself before rising from ashes once again. The tightness coiling in his stomach grew unbearable and insatiable, hungering for more and more and more until–

“There's no shame in coming undone,” you cooed, your lips and fangs replacing the hand in his throat and peppering apologetic kisses. “Unravel for me, my love.” 

My love. My love. My love.

“Fuck,” Sukuna gasped. He clung to you, and you raised your head to kiss him, swallowing his strained noises to keep them a secret from the outside world and himself. 

He grabbed at your shoulders and arms as his head tilted back and a hoarse cry left him–just as his body clamped down and sent him over the edge, he realized pushing in and out had become more taxing. Perhaps because of his cumming, or perhaps because of the ungodly thing swelling at your base and ripping him open. 

You worked him through his high, never thinking of pulling away from him when he needed you most. Because this was bound to end. He was bound to wake up and feel cold where your hands now touched. He was stuck in the body of another with no hope of reaching you unless he somehow, some way turned the tables on all those weak sorcerers and broke free. 

But he would. He'd claim his vessel and walk amongst the new world, autonomous and untouchable. It was only a matter of time. 

–

Though Sukuna was selfish in chasing his own pleasure, he soon found immense satisfaction in yours.

The number of times he'd trap you against a wall and finger you until your legs gave out and your voice ran hoarse was too great to count. He couldn't help himself; that bewildered, wide-eyed look you gave him every time you were let go to fix your robes and catch your voice screamed, what was that for? And boosted Sukuna’s ego. He reveled in the glory of being the only one to do this to you, to being the one who forced you to lose composure. 

In his chamber, he indulged further. He'd work thick fingers deep inside of you while his other hands roamed and touched, stroking, pinching and rubbing wherever he deemed needed attention. And you were putty in his hands, absolutely melting into everything he did to you, even if accompanied by a shock of pain. 

Because you were a creature who only knew sex for the sake of bearing children. Beyond that clan using you in an attempt to create half-breed sorcerers, your primal nature influenced you to only seek out a mate for the purpose of bearing children, and not necessarily for pleasure. 

But Sukuna was the opposite. He never thought of siring children. He only thought of pleasure of another's body and the thrill of total domination over them, never the idea he'd suffer the consequences of an heir; he had those women drink a special tea to prevent that for a reason, especially when a handful had come to him, offering their bodies in return for fame and perceived power. 

With you, he could entertain the idea, however. 

Yes, the mere idea of watching you walk around the gardens, properly swollen with his children, with physical proof of his ownership and coupling with you, sparked something akin to greed in his chest. Though it was a little warmer than just that, admittedly.

–

Yuuji liked you. There was no escaping it, no denying it–he liked being around you. He liked your smile. Your tails. Your ears. The way you scared the shit out of him the first time you properly met. You were just…weird. Interesting. Kind of like Yuuji himself. 

But you were kind, too. The times he wandered out to meet you at your shrine to “check up on things,” or because he was bored, he always found you tending to your gardens, talking to the passerby wildlife, dozing at the entrance, and his heart would do something funny in his chest. 

Then his mind would rot until all he could see was you sprawled beneath Sukuna, singing the king’s praises while he fucked you into the tatami and bred you. 

It wouldn't stop there. Sukuna would taunt him, poisoning him with sinful thoughts and diabolic urges:

You think that fox'll give you the time of day? You, a petulant runt with not a shred of experience beyond your hand? Hah. 

Consider it a blessing--you'd probably cum too fast to enjoy him properly. You'd embarrass yourself to death.

I know you think about him when your hand's around your cock. You wish he'd warm it, no? Wish you got to watch his ass take you in? 

Go on, why don't you just try? Fulfill your fantasies! Maybe he'll act the part of a pious, pitying god and throw you a bone. 

Yuuji, for as airheaded as he could be, knew Sukuna wanted to indulge in you through his vessel. Or, he truly believed Yuuji wouldn't be able to hook up with you and live to remember it. Maybe he was right. 

But the young man thought you had a soft spot for him; he wasn't great at reading people by any means, but he thought you always gravitated to him before the others. You always held more warmth in your eyes when they fell upon him, and your preening touch constantly found him, your hands always smoothing out the creases of his uniform while deft fingers fixed his hair and pleated his hood into more attractive folds. 

Maybe your touchy-ness toward him was a culmination of your need to parent something. Yuuji didn't fully understand it, but Gojo mentioned something about you wanting children, but you couldn't have them. Not anymore. And so those urges manifested in other ways. 

But the young sorcerer wasn't so sure anymore.

“My Yuuji,” you cooed when he came to visit. “You're back again so soon. Is everything alright?”

Yuuji smiled and braced for impact, bowing his head the slightest bit to let you bonk yours against his in greeting. It really reminded him of the way cats would welcome each other. Thankfully, you didn't seem too eager to mark him with a dose of spittle, though. 

“Yeah, everything's cool. Just–dunno. Wanted to come see what you were doing, I guess.” The sorcerer shrugged and pocketed his hands after you'd finished lovingly headbutting him.

“Mmh. Well, I certainly don't mind the company.” You smoothed back his hair and fixed the wild flare of one of his eyebrows before stepping away and meandering back towards your shrine. “It feels like something's going to happen soon.”

Yuuji's stomach flipped. “Yeah? You think so?” He followed you, watching the hypnotic swaying of your tails and hips and ass–wait, wait, wait, no, no, no–

What? Am I wrong? Sukuna's voice purred. Looks downright breedable, doesn't he? He said it more like a want than a taunt, this time, like if he were in Yuuji's shoes, he'd jump on you and pick up where you left off. 

Shut up, shut up, shut up, Yuuji chanted, trying to calm down. Don't ruin this!

Ruin what? Your sad attempt at courtship, brat? 

Yuuji said nothing. Sukuna howled with laughter. 

“Natural disasters cannot always be predicted,” you murmured, bringing Yuuji back to the present. “And they can never be stopped.”

The younger frowned and rubbed the back of his neck as he followed you inside. “Eh, I mean…we can stop a lot with sorcery, can't we?”

“And if that disaster is born of sorcery? What then?” You snapped your fingers, and every candle in the room ignited with amber flame.

“Uh…I mean…” He sighed and rubbed his face. “I still think we can stop it. We'll figure out a way!”

You sure about that, brat? 

You laughed, soft and kind, bringing a smile to Yuuji instead of a ticked off frown. You had a way of settling his nerves and relieving the tension from tightly wound muscles. Is this the effect you had on Sukuna? Is that why he cherished you so much? 

“I admire your optimism, Yuuji. Perhaps I should aspire to be like you,” you said. 

Yuuji's face flushed. “E-eh? Wh–no! You're awesome the way you are! And, uh, you're–y’know. You're good!” Smooth. Eloquent. Exceptional.

You hummed and wandered further into the back rooms, allowing Yuuji to follow you to your chambers to relax. “Well, I'll trust your opinion, then.” 

“Okay. Yeah. Cool.” The sorcerer cleared his throat and messed with his hood as he followed your lead, admiring the tidy, comfy space you welcomed him into. Pillows and blankets were plentiful and all bunched together on a futon, so much like the nests Yuuji often saw in his dreams. It felt a bit…intrusive to see it in person. 

“Hey, uh,” Yuuji started, “I–can I ask something?” 

You seated yourself down across the small, simple kotatsu, and gestured for the younger to join you. “Of course.”

The sorcerer sat down across from you. “You and Sukuna. Were you guys–did you ever…y'know.” 

You tilted your head, curious. “Go on.”

“Were you, like, in love? Or something?” Yuuji's face burned red at the words. Talking about love was so damn awkward for some reason, especially when it had to do with Sukuna and the fox Yuuji himself pined for.

“Ah.” You tilted your head the opposite direction, and hummed. “I was in love, yes.”

Yuuji's chest ached. “Even now?” 

“Eternally.” 

“Do you want him back?” 

You didn't answer right away, and the festering pain spread from his chest to the tips of his fingers; of course you wanted him back. Of course you wanted your ancient, all-powerful lover back. Why would you ever accept Yuuji in his place? A weak, mortal being?

Before Yuuji could retract the question, you'd shuffled around to his side of the table and held one of his hands in both of yours. The younger couldn't bear to look at your face, and so kept his eyes trained on your elegant fingers smoothing over his rough, scarred knuckles. 

“I would not trade a soul that walks amongst the living for a soul that has already lived its life,” you said. “Sukuna has lived. And he has died. He may rise once more, but I do not seek to aid it; he chose to die in hopes of living forever. He must accept what his decision brings, as must I.” 

The storm inside of the sorcerer calmed the slightest bit. Sails no longer whipped and frayed; they caught wind and led his heart back to placid waters, though the depths of the oceans could always threaten future treachery. For now, however, Yuuji found safety.

��Man, you really are like Yoda,” He laughed, filling the room with renewed brightness.

You blinked owlishly. “Yoda? What that is, I do not know.” 

Yuuji laughed harder and clasped his hands around yours. “Nah, don't worry about it. It's a good thing, though. From one of the movies Gojo-sensei made me watch.”

“I would strongly advise against taking lessons from that man, Yuuji.” Your brow creased as your hands clutched his in a death grip. “He’s not normal.”

Yuuji grinned, then, and held your hands just as tightly. “Yeah, he's weird. But he's smart, too! One of the strongest guys alive, y'know?” 

“Even the strongest can make mistakes,” you said. “Even the strongest can lose, Yuuji. Always be careful, even if victory is assured.” Your careful touch graced the curve of his cheek. “I would hate for your visits to stop.”

The sorcerer's heart beat in double-time. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

–

The leaves crinkled and rustled, flashing shades of amber and ruby in the dwindling daylight. Gone was the warmth of Summer's smile; now, the cold, fierce nip of Autumn cut through the air, whispering secrets about the first frost and what it would do to devastate the green around you.

But you were a god. A creature of fertility and good luck. And so, the grass did not die, and the forest did not wither under the coming winter's threats. 

It seemed your gifts could not reach into the depths of your soul, however. Perhaps you weren't to indulge in the privilege of what you brought the world--the mortal things around you could make use of a blessing from the divine, but could the divine themselves? Could you bring yourself a remedy to your loneliness the way you brought life unto the ground beneath your feet? 

You didn't know.

–

The end of October came, and the world trembled with the force of thousands of lives ending in misery and terror. You beheld it from your home, the sight of the clouds turning orange and red as hellfire devoured all. 

Bless me ‘n wish me luck! Gojo had said last time he swung by. Definitely don't need it, but you're my favourite cheerleader, y'know?

That was not too long ago, perhaps a day prior. Maybe it'd only been twelve hours ago since you last saw him. Three hours ago since you last felt his celestial presence upon the earth. 

“I would hate for your visits to stop,” you murmured, and your chest froze with the cold. 

–

Winter brought with it snow and darkness. Kuraokami had his ways of slipping his icy presence through the slivered cracks of wood grain no matter the time or place; the great dragon would be heard and seen if it was his final act upon the earth. 

Not even you could keep him out, the lesser deity you were. But you didn't mind the company; the cold breaths against your skin woke you from nightmares and empty blankness when you dozed and dazed, feeling the days slip by and blur together into one grey smear of solitary existence. 

Something had happened. Ever since the sky lit ablaze in a familiar scene of ungodly strength, you felt a shift in the state of existence. In your relevance in the grand scheme of the college and history. 

Your sorcerers lost their way to you, you realized. The cushions around the kotatsu stayed fluffed and untouched save for one. Five of the six clay tea cups gathered dust as they waited, hopeful, like you. 

–

You woke to the feeling of hollowness. It jostled you to consciousness, in fact; those two little unborn lives swirled and stirred, clawing at your stomach before vanishing in an instant. 

Maybe they'd grown too sick and weary of the loneliness and snow, too.

–

Sukuna had walked down this path too many times. And too many times he'd been unable to move, unable to claw his way out of the prison of his vessel to get back to you–but things were different now. 

He held a bundle of blankets close as he wandered toward a speck of verdant green amidst the snowy whiteness blanketing the forest, and remembered a distant past he yearned to return to:

Sukuna was a restless creature. He often distracted himself with challenges, duels, leafing through stolen knowledge of other clans–but, on rare occasions, none of that would appeal to his tumultuous mind. 

You always appealed to him, however. You, with your lavish tails, your exquisite appearance, your superior poise and prose, you always enthralled him, made him wonder and stare. 

Maybe it was because you were always doing something. If you weren't tending to his women, you were meandering around the palace, admiring trophies earned in whatever form they came in: art, weapons, bones. If you weren't doing that, you might be in the garden instead, fine-tuning the patterns drawn in the zen garden yourself and feeding the massive koi. If not that, then you might be asking Uraume to teach you to cook, or you could be fiddling with your loom or–well, it could be anything. 

Sometimes, you’d choose to  lay with Sukuna and keep him warm and content throughout the dreary haze of winter. 

You didn't hate winter yourself, no, but Sukuna most definitely did. The snow and ice were a pain in the ass, and they always threw the garden into a messy disarray of dead foliage and slushy mud that'd have to be tended to come springtime. And it was cold as hell outside. Who asked for that? No one. 

“My love,” you cooed as you stepped to his side while he stared out the window. “Glaring won't make the seasons change.” 

Sukuna scoffed. “That a challenge?”

“Not at all.” You reached up and smoothed his hair back, stopping pesky, rebellious strands from tickling his forehead. “I'd hate to see what you'd do in an attempt to play god.”

“I'm already a god,” he countered as he snatched your hand from his hair and looked down at you.

“Not a god of the seasons, I'm afraid.” You held his hand and pulled it down to kiss his knuckles. “But a god amidst men, nonetheless.” 

Your beast hummed deep in his chest. You had a funny way of setting his roiling soul at ease with your effortless praise and acknowledgement. 

“Knew there was a reason I kept you around,” the man purred, leaning down to touch his forehead to yours. 

You leaned up into the soft gesture like a cat too eager to be pet. “You'd be quite bored without me.” 

“No kidding. I'd go fucking mental if I didn't have you to entertain me.” His voice was a murmur, then, and softened even more when your warm hands cupped his cheeks like he was a priceless, fragile artifact: precious, special, breakable.

“Yes, yes, I go insane in your stead, loved one.” You touched your nose to his, then, before placing the softest of kisses upon his lips. 

A light, sighed grumble slipped past Sukuna's lips when your skin left his. It was his turn to nudge his nose against yours, earning himself a petal-like smile from his prized possession, before he blessed you in return, trying to match the kindness you'd met him with. 

You held the front of his garbs as you leaned up into him, and his hands all found their places on your smaller frame in return, pulling you closer, keeping you against him. He hardly wanted anything like this in the past before you came along and tore his mind and soul to pieces before hunkering down in the hollow of his ribs and setting up shop. It was aggravating. Captivating. 

“Come,” you softly beckoned, slipping away from his desperate hold and leading him back to the bundle of blankets and linens he’d learned to accept as a bed.

As always, he had no choice but to follow, abandoning his mad-dogging of the outside world to join you and the infinite warmth his personal Amaterasu brought him. 

“You’re lazy as hell in the winter,” Sukuna noted as he sat himself down in the middle of your nest and let you get to work adjusting blankets and such around the both of you for optimal comfort. 

“You're free to traipse off into the snow if you so wish.” You settled yourself by Sukuna's side and tucked under his heavy arms. “I will remain here. Warm. Dry. At peace.” 

Sukuna rolled his eyes and pulled you close to his side, squeezing a chirped purr from your chest. “Think I'll pass on the snow.” 

You smiled to yourself, feeling warm and content with the settling silence engulfing you as the snow engulfed the world. Winter was the only season where he'd stay by your side, so you often indulged in it, bothering him and sticking to him like a needy pet until spring inevitably rolled around to ruin your happy spell. Because Sukuna was more wild and feral than you. He had to go wander, to go fight. Otherwise, he'd have no purpose. 

Unbeknownst to you, he may have another purpose in mind. 

His hand breached your clothes and reached down, stopping just above your navel to your surprise. There, he drew gentle, thoughtful circles against your skin. You felt pulses of cursed energy flicker and feel, searching for something neither of you yet knew of. 

“What is it you're looking for?” You murmured, knowing full well what he sought.

Sukuna inhaled deeply and exhaled just as heavy. “How long does it take to get one god knocked up, huh?” He tutted and looked down at you, holding an annoyed look while you met him with doey, lovey eyes as you leaned into him more. 

“I'm sure you'll be the man who finds out.”

Sukuna grinned to himself and adjusted the lump of blankets he held. Arrogant pride blossomed in his chest alongside his bolstered ego; if he could do this as a mere man, what could he do as a curse? 

The king sighed as he breached the warmth of the halo surrounding your humble, comfy abode. He was getting sick of the shit weather in the games, all the cold and emptiness. Being near you was what he needed. 

“Oi, don't make a fuss,” Sukuna grumbled lowly to the whining duo he adjusted in his arms. “You wanna get inside or not?” 

But before he could make use of his newly freed arm, the doors slid open before him. 

And you stood there. Tired. Disheveled. Eyes big and hopeful, yet rimmed with disbelief and shock as you stared at your man and the package he brought to your doorstep. 

Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't melt, too. Being here, standing firm and whole and so very real and untethered in the spot other sorcerers stood in their attempt to spirit you away from him–it was the reason for his existence. 

And so was your arms wrapping around him and holding him close. 

“Ho? So you did miss me, huh?” He hummed, looping an arm around you and pressing you closer to him. “Sure didn't act like it earlier.”

“I didn't wish to believe in something that felt untrue,” you murmured into his shoulder. “Even now, you're not…entirely yourself.” 

Sorrow stained the undertones of your voice. Whether it was for the fate of Fushiguro Megumi, or for the state of your lover, Sukuna did not know. 

But he was here. He was tangible. He was in control. Finally. 

“At least I'm here, yeah?” He said. And you nodded. 

You led him inside and into the room filled with comfort and warmth. Works of embroidery lined the once-unremarkable tapestries draping down from the ceilings and walls, and the wooden pillars now boasted intricate carvings in various states of completion. Seemed like you'd gotten quite bored in your wait. 

Sukuna sat with you, being the man to finally make use of the fluffed cushions around the kotatsu as he dragged it to your side to stay close. You needed it. He thirsted for it.

The bundle whined and cooed as soon as Sukuna’s ass hit the cushion, and he sighed. “Think you can take care of this, fox?” He teased, but felt a rush of something overtake him when he caught you with your ears perked, tails swishing, back straight as you stared down at the bundle. 

He eased them into your arms and, with shaking hands, you pulled back the wooly linen to find two perfect little treasures staring up at you with big, red-lined eyes. One held the colour of yours, while the other took responsibility for sporting Sukuna's hues, but both boys’ eyes glimmered with divine flecks of gold and amber. Their hair blushed with the colour of sakura petals, and two, itty bitty tufts of soft onyx ears dotted both of their heads like chocolate chips in strawberry ice cream. 

Two perfect kits. Your perfect kits. 

“You seriously wanted these things?” Sukuna asked, teasing and rude, but softer and warmer than the fire burning in your chest. “Gotta say, they're pretty fucking annoying.”

You swathed your tails around them and purred with the ferocity of an avalanche as you leaned into your partner and doted on the teeny tiny babies he'd somehow brought back to the land of the living. A part of you felt guilty for what this could mean. The rest of you screamed, I don't care. 

“Look at them,” You whispered, tracing the roundness of their cheeks with a gentle touch. “They're beautiful.” 

“Well, lookit who their parents are.” Sukuna chuckled and held you against his side, which you eagerly melted into. “Kenjaku had a plan for them too, turns out. Who woulda thought?”

“You never told me,” you said. “Why did you not tell me?” 

“You would've been pissed,” Sukuna said, voice matter of fact. “Better to just do it and reap the benefits later.”

You looked up at him, and found his gaze locked onto you. “That's quite selfish.”

“I'm a king. I can do whatever I want. I can have whatever I want,” He reminded you. “As soon as I take care of a few pathetic, loose ends, everything'll be in place. Right where it all needs to be. And life goes back to normal." 

Your heart did something funny when you read between the lines. “Must you–”

“Don't question me.” Sukuna grabbed your chin and forced you to look down at your snoozing babes. “You’ll lose this. All of this. You'll be left with nothing all over again if I don’t finish this off. That what you want, fox?” 

“You know the answer,” you murmured, too content to let him guide you and sway your reason. He tugged your chin toward him, forcing you to look his way again.

“Tell me anyway.” Tell me what I want to hear.

How could you refuse? 

“No matter the case," you murmured, soft as forgotten winter snow, "you will always have my favour, Ryoumen Sukuna.”

–

Forever to be loved, herein lays a God's young,

Imprisoned by none, held dearly by the Disgraced One. 

[chuellas]

Angel | He didn’t plan on having a traditional future with a marriage and a family but one surprise trip to your work has him second, maybe even triple, guessing himself.

⤷ Ft. Nakahara Chuuya

Warnings | Fem!Reader, mentions of having children/pregnancy, slight identity crisis on Chuuya’s part, WC: 1.3k

A/N | Hello Tumblr people!! I am so excited to finally get to posting this fic. Hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful day <3

The day started out just like any other day for Chuuya, waking up next to you still soundly asleep, making the two of you coffee and breakfast then sending you a text to wake up to as he left for work. He’s been lucky today, only having a short stack of paperwork to finish before heading out to the field. After checking in with a few of his subordinates, Chuuya decides to call it a day early. 

An exceptionally ordinary day for the Port Mafia executive. 

The ginger checks his watch and a grin graces his features when he realizes you should be getting out of work in about 20 minutes. He can easily make it to the clinic you work at before you get off. Usually he’ll text you that he’s coming to pick you up, but he figures today he’ll surprise you and what’s a surprise without a bouquet of your favorite flowers from one of your favorite local florists?

Chuuya makes it to your work in 15 minutes. With 5 minutes to spare, he parks his car. The executive strips himself of his jackets, trying to make himself present as if he has a more casual job then he does and walks into the clinic. 

This clinic isn’t somewhere Chuuya would usually frequent, each time he visits you he feels a bit awkward entering the building. You work as a pediatric nurse, so you see children all day every day. You’ve expressed how difficult it can be watching sick children coming in all day but you still love getting to help them and their parents, even if it’s just for a small visit. 

The executive makes it about 5 feet into the office building when he’s stopped in his tracks at the sight of you with a child, a little boy — he can’t be much older than 4, maybe 5, years old. You’re sat on the floor with him, playing some sort of made up game and something in the ginger’s chest stirs. 

Your smile is wider than usual, a sparkle in your eye as the little boy climbs into your lap, handing you a book with his small and chubby outstretched arms. You take the invasion of your personal space in stride as a soft laugh falls from your lips and you start reading to the young child. You’re so enthralled with the boy that you don’t even notice your boyfriend standing there, starstruck. 

The scene laid out in Chuuya makes his heart yearn. In his line of work having children is risky. Being with you alone is dangerous, if it weren’t for you being an ability user yourself, Chuuya never would have entertained a relationship with a civilian. But with a child… he’s not so arrogant that he would guarantee their safety when, realistically, he knows that’s not something he can assure. 

Logically, his brain is telling him that the two of you could never become parents. But that little voice in his head that’s gotten increasingly louder since he met you is practically screaming at him. The image of a small bundle of joy with your hair and his eyes flashes across his mind. Then there’s the thought of you pregnant with his child and that short circuits something inside of his brain. He's no longer thinking logically. 

Chuuya never thought he wanted that. He was okay - content even - with it only being the two of you for the rest of your lives. But now? seeing you with a child like this, how good you are with him, he’s no longer sure. 

You’ve never brought up the idea of marriage, let alone children. Chuuya just assumed you understood that’s just something he wouldn’t be able to give you. Or maybe even that you didn’t want that kind of life. But the mafia executive is plagued by images of you in an extravagant white dress, a swollen stomach and a child that’s the perfect blend of your genes with Chuuya’s. 

Oh.

The ginger is too far gone.

It’s not until your coworker, the receptionist, is greeting Chuuya that you notice him. Not a moment too soon either, Chuuya was spiraling in a direction he doesn't think he would recover from. The woman’s voice brings him back to reality as you look up from the picture book that has a cat on display. Your eyes are misty but you smile brightly at your boyfriend. 

You’re so breathtakingly gorgeous that Chuuya literally feels winded, like your smile stole his ability to breathe. 

You tilt your head curiously. “Couldn’t wait till I got off to see me?”

“Well, I was planning on it, but looks like you’ve been preoccupied.” The ginger squats down next to you and the little boy in your arms stirs, turning to eye the ginger suspiciously.

Your attention is brought back to the small child for a split second before your head is turning to look behind Chuuya as the clinic door loudly clicks open. You smile warmly and maneuver yourself up, somehow keeping the boy in your arms. A woman with the same green eyes as the boy walks in with a baby swaddled securely to her chest. 

You gently let the boy down and watch as he runs up to who Chuuya can only assume is his mother. The resemblance, even at such a young age, is uncanny. Once again Chuuya’s thoughts are brought back to what a child with you would look like. What features would he or she get? Hopefully they would get all of your personality and temperament. 

The ginger looks over to you as a way to subtly observe your features but what he sees makes his stomach sink and face drop. The look in your eyes is longing and Chuuya knows. You want children of your own. That’s not the look of someone who never wants children. 

You put on a tight smile as the woman speaks. “Thank you so much for watching him. say thank you to the nice nurse, natsu.”

The boy waves at you with his small and chubby hand. In a timid and quiet voice the boy thanks you and then waves as his mother guides him out of the clinic. You both watch the trio until the door shuts. 

“Oh my god- I didn’t realize my shift was over with already! Are you here to pick me up? I just need to finish entering something and then I'll be out, okay-?” You blush, catching yourself before you call Chuuya your usual term of endearment while still in a professional setting. “U-uhm… fifteen minutes max. I'll be out before you know it.”

The ginger’s face softens and he smiles at you lovingly. “You got it, Doll. Y’know where to find me.”

You smile back at him and nod. As you go to turn around, Chuuya grabs hold of your hand and stops you so he can bring it up to his mouth and place a tender kiss atop your knuckles. Your breath hitches and your shoulders tense for a moment. Your cheeks heat up and you quickly look around to find your coworker cooing at his display of affection. 

You let out a squeak and pull your hand back when the executive looks up to you. 

“Chuuya- I- You-” You let out a huff and frown at him, grabbing him and spinning him around then pushing his back. “Just- Go, I’ll meet you out there.”

Chuuya watches you with an amused smirk as you turn and scan your keycard to unlock the door. He waits until it’s shut to wave at the receptionist before heading back to the parking lot. 

His mind still lingers on what the future could truly hold for the two of you. He's seen plenty of his colleagues build happy lives outside of the mafia. Maybe it’s wishful thinking but chuuya’s starting to think maybe he could too. The two of you have made it this far, why not push the limits? 

The executive’s hand twitches and phone burns in his pocket. He's made the decision, there’s something he has to do. He waits to get into his car, but the moment he does, Chuuya is unlocking his phone and searching up engagement ring cuts and styles.

[hellishjoel]

off to the races

6.3k / dbf!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

series summary: You and your parents rent a lakeside cabin, Joel and Sarah Miller are your neighbors. You’re all grown up, and you’ll do anything to prove to Joel you’re a woman now. 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s while Joel is in his 40’s), alcohol consumption, slight daddy issues lol, cursing, use of pet names, dominant!joel, maybe a lil brat tamer!joel, oral sex (m receiving), a lil praise kink, a lil degradation kink, facial, etc. you know ;)

A/N: needed to get cool slutty daddy out of my system. He’s just a Lana coded man!! I plan on turning this into a series, I hope it get's some love! let me know what you think by sending me an ask!

Your desperate eyes met his, trying to gauge what he thought. You hated how you looked like you wanted him so bad. He was your neighbor, your friend’s dad, but you wanted him to be something for you too.  “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doin-”  His words made your chest go tight and your eyes filled with pure horror. What have you done?! “But you need to be the one to walk away, because I don’t think I can.”

Summers in Danbury were what you looked forward to all year long when you were younger. You would love the long drive to the lakeside cabin, swimming in the dazzling blue water all day, and catching fireflies at night before ending it with roasting s'mores over the campfire. 

Now, all Danbury reminded you of were your parents stripping your feeling of independence as soon as you stepped in their embrace and the lack of cell service. 

It wasn’t all that bad, though. Who were you to complain about an all-expense paid vacation on the water? Your parents were fine, you just graduated from university, everything was just.. good. It almost made you a little bored, thinking about the impending summer. 

The warm sun’s kiss on your skin was a welcomed greeting after spending the past 9 months away at school out of state, your eyes twinkling below your sunglasses as you stepped out of the car. It was good to be back in Texas.

“Look, there she is!” Your dad cooed as he was eager to point out the sign that sat beside the entrance of the cabin that read ‘Life is Better at the Cabin’. Cheesy. It wasn’t your choice of decor since it was just a rental property, but still. You also despised the ‘The Secret Ingredient is Always Love’ sign in the kitchen. 

You plopped your bags down at the end of your bed, the one just down the hall from your parents, quick to plug in your phone charger though it made little difference with your lack of a strong signal. 

You turned your head to the window, seeing an old, beaten pickup truck turn onto gravel, a small smile peaking on your lips. 

“Hey, look who it is!” Your dad cheered eagerly from the living room, appearing to also be gazing out the window at the sight coming down the road and pulling into the house next to yours. 

The truck in question belonged to Joel Miller and his daughter, Sarah. Sarah had been your close friend each and every summer since you were little. You two were attached at the hip once your family started vacationing here, despite her being a fair five years younger. You two got along nonetheless. 

You stepped outside to greet them, as your mother and father were already out doing, your face lighting up as Sarah made a b-line to your embrace. “Oh my god! Look at you!” She praised, her eyes lighting up at your appearance. 

You two didn’t get the chance to spend the past few summers together due to business with school or internships on your part, so her surprise in seeing you a few years grown up was warranted. 

“Look at me? Look at you!” You said through punched lungs as she hugged you so tight you were losing your breath. 

If you thought Sarah’s tight hug was bad, you weren’t prepared to see what was waiting on the other side of the pickup truck. 

Your lips parted at the sight of Joel Miller. He was sort of… handsome. Was that wrong to think that? I mean, he was so much older than you, someone’s dad, Sarah’s dad. You tried not to let your eyes linger for too long but his voice pitched into the conversation and you had been caught. 

“Hey, Skids.” Ugh. That dreaded nickname you had yet to wear off. “Haven’t seen you these past few summers. Happy to be done with school?” Joel’s southern drawl was a shock to your system after being up in the Midwest for school. 

He was tall and rugged, so unkempt. His hair was tousled everywhere and his beard was growing with salt and pepper stippling through the landscape of his jawline. He looked hot, the faint glisten and stain of sweat marking the collar of his shirt and at the sides of his biceps. 

You blinked a few times before a graceful smile fluttered on your lips.

“Hi, Mr. Miller.” You gently cooed. What? If he could call you by that horrid nickname he had given you when you were barely ten, you could call him by his surname. Your eyes caught his own shift, his jaw twitching at his name being called like that. It was just his name after all, right? 

“Joel.” He corrected with a raised eyebrow, your eyes finally dragging themselves away from his handsome character as they turned to your parents, who were obsessing over Sarah. She was about to go into her senior year of high school, so of course, they had all of the basic questions to ask her. Are you taking any advanced classes? Are you still on the swim team? Do you know where you want to go to college?

You tried to look interested, but you could still feel Joel’s gravitating stare in your direction. 

You were just imagining things, right? He was looking one foot over, to Sarah and your family. Except he wasn’t. You know because you snuck a casual glance over to him, and he was still on you. His gaze alone made a shiver travel up your spine. 

While Sarah and your parents were nestled in their own world of conversation, you take a few subtle steps away and join him by his truck. It still felt warm, the engine relaxing after a good drive in the Texas heat. 

“You need a new truck. She looks like she’s on her deathbed.” You point out, the one corner of his mouth tugging up as he kept his eye on Sarah and your folks with his arms crossed in front of his broad chest. 

“She’s just fine.” He retorts nonchalantly. You hated that about him. You could never figure out what he was thinking, unpredictable but not exactly chaotic. 

“She?” You asked with raised eyebrows. “I always knew you had a special woman in your life. Didn’t know she was so old, though.” You egged him on, your favorite pastime in the summers; Grinding the gears of an old man who had a bigger attitude than you most days. 

“You still have quite the mouth on you. Glad to see that hasn’t changed.” Joel said sarcastically as he pushed himself off the front of the truck with his hip, his head nodding off to the side in a silent way of telling you to follow him. You watched as he pulled down the tailgate, rust screeching until it stopped with a generous thump. 

“Supposed to be Sarah helping me with this, but since she’s busy being Miss Danbury, you can help me.” He said as he pointed to some firewood and other bigger pieces of wood in varying sizes. 

“What do you plan on doing with all this wood anyway? I think the Amazon is looking for it.” You huffed but climbed up into the back of the truck bed without him asking you to. His protective hand instinctively guided your hip for stability, and you felt a rush of air pump through your lungs. “Thanks.” You murmur before you start reaching for stacks you could handle. 

“Sarah wanted to throw y'all a bonfire with it being your first day back for the summer or what have you.” Before you could stop yourself, you were already cooing at him as you jumped down from the tailgate, watching as Joel gave a tight face of annoyance. Don’t do that, you’re gonna get yourself hurt. 

It took Joel all of two seconds to grab two of the larger cut pieces, throwing each of them onto his shoulders. You couldn’t help but stare at his biceps that cradled the wood, the tan skin and muscles popping out of the dark green t-shirt he wore. Focus, focus, focus, focus, focusfocusfocus. 

“And the bigger pieces? What are those for?” You asked out of sheer curiosity now once he threw them down in the back of his lawn, the sight of your parents and Sarah long gone. 

He shrugged and shook his head, his hands on his hips as a layer of sweat started to build up around his hairline. “Just carvin’ projects. The rest can be used for scrap lumber around the lake properties.” His head finally turned to look at you, his eyes raking you up and down for a moment before nodding to your lake house rental. “Doin’ property maintenance over the summer on the houses ‘round here.”

“So if we need maintenance, we call you now?” You asked with a dubious face, to which he nodded. 

This man never stopped. It made sense, you supposed. You reflected on the summers in the past, knowing Joel to manage his own contracting business and picking up odd jobs around town. You remember one summer, he redid the flooring of an old bakery in town and then built custom shelves for the loaves of bread and bagels. Another summer, he repaved people’s driveways with blacktop. He was a laborer, a blue-collar man through and through. 

“That’s right, Skids.” The nickname made you scowl at him again, but you wouldn’t mind seeing Joel Miller laid under your kitchen sink or repairing the window in your bedroom so it could finally let in some fresh air. Frankly, you just wouldn’t mind seeing Joel Miller. 

After Joel reclaimed his daughter from your parents with a snarky yet subtle, Thanks for all your help, kiddo to Sarah, he said goodbye to you and your family as everyone parted ways back to their own homes. 

-

You were tired from the drive, but you didn’t lack attendance to the bonfire Sarah was putting together specifically for you in a welcome back to Danbury! sort of celebration. She invited the other nearby neighbors, so by the time you finally joined, it was packed with people sitting around the fire. People who lived on the lake loved a good party, anything with beer to keep them occupied. 

It was a lot of talking and bottles clinking, marshmallows on sticks, and a crackling fire blazing at the center of everyone. You weren’t one for beer but Sarah insisted on feeding you bottle after bottle. 

She liked sharing secrets with you, away from her dad. She considered you someone she could tell anything to. And you felt the same way. So not more than half an hour later, you two were giggling and sitting on the tailgate of Joel’s old pickup truck when you saw him start to saunter over.  You saw him coming first, snatching Sarah’s bottle out of her hand and taking a sharp inhale as you hid away your own. Sarah’s secret, right? 

“Dad,” she playfully whined when he came over to bust their little party. 

He was silent for a moment before he looked at the dwindling flames. “Fire’s gettin’ low.” He pointed out, looking between the two of you.

His face was lit up in a mix of gold hue from the fire and silver from the moon. His face had this intensity, a bucked-out jawline, cheekbone, and nose. It was like he was carved from stone. 

Sarah was silent, not wanting to leave behind her friends at the bonfire to shuffle over more wood. You softly nodded as you took a swig of her beer bottle in your hand before setting it down once you hopped off the truck bed. 

“I can help.” You offered. Joel looked down at you hesitantly, sneaking a glance to where your parents sat around the growing circle of people.

“Yeah.. yeah, ‘lright.” Joel said as the two of you walked off to the dividing line on his property, the wood you had dropped carelessly earlier in the day now in a neat stack. You certainly weren’t drunk, but slamming Sarah’s beer along with the other ones she ushered you before was now messing with your head, the edges of your vision a little fuzzy, especially in the dark since the glow of the bonfire was at such a distance. 

Before you knew it, you were stacking the wood into your arms, too much maybe. Joel called out your name in a warning tone. 

“No, I got it! See?” You tried to reason with a cocky smile as he shook his head. 

“You don’t like to listen.” He gruffly said as he started picking up the smaller pieces as they fell out of your arms. 

You couldn’t help the playful scoff that left your lips, still insistent on stacking more in your arms, going as far as tucking some in your elbows but all they did was drop at your feet once you went to reach for more. 

“Stop bein’ so damn difficult.” He piped up again as he snagged your wrist, halting your movements. 

“Yeah? I thought you liked difficult women.” Your words were fast like a whip, your eyes challenging his own as the two of you shared unnecessarily long eye contact. 

“Drop-- the wood. Stop bein’ a-” 

“A what?” You challenged. The distance between you two suddenly felt like it was becoming air-tight, his eyes narrowing on yours as his features hardened. He didn’t look mad, lord knows you’d never want to actually make Joel Miller mad. He just looked-- provoked. 

“A brat.” He finally bit, your teeth clenching at the name. The shock of it all made your arms finally burst open like a dam breaching with water, all of them falling to your feet as you let out an involuntary squeal. God, you did not want him to hear that noise leave you like that. 

You finally tugged away your wrist from his hand, your eyes leaving his daggered gaze to examine your palm that had a decent size splinter plunged into the center of it. 

“Shit,” You swore, feeling whatever heat you had left in your body pooling to your stringing finger. 

You heard Joel let out a debated sigh before he took you by your wrist, much more gentle this time, and tried to bring it up closer to his eyes to examine it. 

“Can’t see for shit out here.” He grumbled. You couldn’t see it either but you could feel right where it spread searing pain through the rest of your hand. 

“I got some tweezers in my workshop, I’ll get it out.” Joel offered as he started walking a few paces but you let out an involuntary whimper at the sound of him taking it out. 

“You don’t want that to get infected, do you?” He asked with a true voice of reason, to which you let out a sigh of agreement and followed him to his workshop.

You had only been inside Joel’s workshop a handful of times. You remember once your dad dragged you over so he could talk to Joel about his truck, and you had to wait there and wait there until they finished gabbing. Another time was when you explored it on your own, your eyes fascinated by the little world he surrounded himself in. It wasn’t all wood like you’d expect it to be. He had old guns mounted on the wall, ladders hung up in the rafters, and dusty old fishing plaques that made you disgusted at the sight. It housed his tools, the same ones he had been using for years. He knew where they were by heart, not even looking when he reached for something. Everything had its place, down to the tweezers he immediately found in an old little toolbox. 

“Here,” he said as he pointed to an old metal stool as tall as your waist. You sat down on the cold metal, a little hiss of discomfort leaving you as he sighed. “Always somethin’.” Joel shook his head and offered you a spare dusty blanket, shaking your head. 

“Just-- fix my hand. Please.” You said as you displayed your palm to him, now seeing it in the light for the first time. Okay.. it didn’t actually look as bad as it felt. Joel actually smiled as he looked at the tiny sliver shoved into the skin. 

“..Might have to amputate it.” He said with a half-serious tone, as joking as Joel could sound. But there was a little glint in his eye, one of satisfaction from his own joke.  

“Joel Miller has a sense of humor? I’m surprised. And pleasantly delighted.” You teased as he huffed and shook his head, the smile that graced his lips already came and gone. Sort of. He just looked down at your hand so you couldn’t directly see it anymore. 

It took you until now to see that he changed out of his dark green shirt from this afternoon and into an old 80’s rock band shirt with a worn dark navy flannel over it. He must have showered after laboring in the Texas heat. The thought made your stomach churn in excitement. 

You shivered at how cold you felt all of a sudden, no longer by the warm fire and on this damn metal stool. You shifted uncomfortably on it, cursing yourself for wearing jean shorts. 

Joel let out an exasperated sigh as he stood up straighter and shoved off his flannel, your eyes softening at the sight. 

“You want me to take tweezers to your hand but you keep... shiftin’ around. Stand up.” He directed, and this time you didn’t debate with him. You hopped off the metal stool and he laid down the flannel. It was a nice gesture and you were grateful. You hoped the goosebumps were from the temperature, not how close he was. 

Joel pulled up another metal stool so he could steady himself, reeling himself in as close as he could and holding your palm open in his as his eyes squinted a little bit. 

You felt frozen in place, your lips parting as you slowly looked down to one of his knees that parted between your own legs. Fuck. You weren’t sure if it was the little buzz of beer still in your system but something drove you to have enough courage to gently lay your hand just above his kneecap. 

His eyes flicked up to yours, trying to read what was behind your thought process right now. He looked so confident, you feared you looked all shifty. 

You could feel the worn denim of his jeans under your palm but underneath, he was warm. He was as hot as a furnace as your body craved it. 

“The sliver.” You pointed back out, your voice smaller since you two were in such close proximity. You watched his chest heave as he took a deep breath, grumbling something under his breath before he focused back to his initial task. 

You pursed your lips as you both watched and felt the tweezers line up to the red and irritated skin, his movements precise and patient until you watched him clench the tool closed. 

You let out an involuntary breath of both relief and anticipation, just wanting it out already. 

“Hold on, just gotta make sure I..” Joel’s voice trailed off as he slowly pulled the tiny sliver from your palm, an uncomfortable whine leaving the back of your throat. 

His thigh twitched under your palm at the sound, not even realizing your hand had sunk higher up his jean-clad thigh. 

“Got it.” He finally said, swiping the tip of the tweezer on the table to display the nasty little piece of wood that had caused you all this grief. You let out a breath through your nostrils and nodded. 

“Thank God, no amputation.” You joked, to which he awarded you a small smile. 

“I’ll call the surgeon and tell ‘em to turn around. We’re good here.” Joel said as he gently released your wrist. You watched his features carefully, seeing his lips part as he glanced down to his leg that your hand still held for balance. 

“What’er you doin’?” He finally asked, his voice dropping an octave at the question. Shit. 

Don’t read this wrong, or this will be the most awkward interaction you and Joel have had to date. This is worse than when he saw you fall out of the inner tube while boating, worse than when some kid tripped you at the town barbeque, worse than when you fell off Sarah’s scooter so hard that he gave you the nickname Skids. 

“Woah, Skids! Better slow down!” God, that was so many years ago. His chuckle still echoed in your ears.

Now you were older, you were a woman. You had long legs and glowing skin, and a smile that knocked guy’s out of the fuckin’ park! But he was older too, older than you, younger than your dad but god, not by much. You were so close to him, you could inhale the distant smell of the bonfire, the one he probably made instead of Sarah. He also smelled like an old spice deodorant and fucking cigarettes. 

He was stingy, and greasy, and hot, and Joel. 

Your years of anticipation thinking about him like this was over. 

You bit down on your lower lip, your mind was foggy with the rushing in your heart,  feeling your ears pound and your palm still seared. He was a head taller than you while you sat together, and before you could stop yourself, you were leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his pulse. 

Your lips lingered around his neck for a moment, the sensitive skin of your mouth feeling beard stubble and tasting distant cologne. Your breath fanned over the skin, clammy but sweet with his sweat. 

He didn’t stop you, his eyes merely watching you carefully. 

“What’er you doin’?” He asked again, but this time, his words sounded more-- goading. Do it, I know you won’t. You’re chicken shit. If you know what you want, do it. 

Your heart raced as you nearly leaped off the stool, closing the distance between you two as you stood between his legs. Your hand moved higher on his thigh, so close that you were nearly touching the leather of his belt. Your mouth returned to the sweet spot of his pulse while your injured hand reached up to the opposite side of his neck to gently hold him there. 

“Joel,” you whispered his name breathlessly, asking him for more, feeling his head drop down beside yours. You feared you embarrassed yourself, he wasn’t reciprocating, he wasn’t--

The thoughts brewing in your head bubbled down to a boil as his firm arm wrapped itself low around your waist, keeping you to his front as he pulled down to look at you with a stern look on his face.. You were so fucked. 

Your desperate eyes met his, trying to gauge what he thought. You hated how you looked like you wanted him so bad. He was your neighbor, your friend’s dad, but you wanted him to be something for you too. 

“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doin-” 

His words made your chest go tight and your eyes filled with pure horror. What have you done?!

“But you need to be the one to walk away, because I don’t think I can.”

His words surprised you. He didn’t think he could walk away from you right now? Holy shit. 

Your heart was pumping so hard under his watchful gaze, seeing his eyes look from yours to your parted lips. But he didn’t kiss you, you don’t think you would let him. It felt too intimate. You just didn’t want another boring summer in Danbury and you were determined to have a fling. 

Who knew it would be with Joel Miller. But you wanted him. 

Your brave hands took him by the chest of his shirt, your mouth moving to his jawline as you balanced the tightrope of kissing and nibbling on the skin before your hands moved south to find his belt buckle. 

His legs naturally parted for you, catching a brief smirk on his lips as you took control of the situation. 

“Dirty girl goin’ right for my fuckin’ cock.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, a desperate nod leaving you while your cheek involuntarily rubbed against the stubble of his beard. You didn’t know he talked like that.

You initiated more space for yourself, nudging the inside of his thighs with your own legs as you had his back up against his drafting table with you no longer on his side but standing in front of him. 

Your quick fingers desperately undid his belt, feeling the old leather under your fingers. You didn’t have the balls to look at him and frankly, you were afraid you would lose your nerve if you did. 

His hands were encouraging for your nervous system, firm palms planted into your hips and even going as far as to squeeze the flesh that sat under your jean shorts. His body warmed you up, his eyes admiring you as you plucked open the button on his jeans. 

You pushed your tongue against your cheek in concentration, all of a sudden desperate at the thought of having him in your mouth. You dragged down the zipper, the relaxed denim exposing the black briefs he wore underneath that hugged his tan hips. 

You slowly sunk to your knees before him, as if you were worshiping a God. Maybe you were, it was Joel Miller, after all.

“This what you were learnin’ off at school?” Joel belittled, your head doing a few quick nods as a flush stained your cheeks. God. Something about Joel calling you a slut had you in a tailspin. You couldn’t wait anymore. 

Your fingers delicately felt over the impressive growth that his briefs held down, biting down on your bottom lip as you let your pointer finger make the outline of his girth. 

He let out an audible grunt at the action, his jaw jutted out, and his eyes filled with lust. “Lemme see that pretty mouth.” He practically purred, your chest rising and falling in anticipation as you slowly opened your mouth for him. You felt the intrusion of his thumb, a guttural moan leaving your throat as your big eyes stayed on his. He pinched at the inside of your cheek for a moment, your eyes twinging closed and opening back up with twinkling tears on the brim of flowing. 

“Good girl, keep that mouth open for me.” He encouraged as he pushed two fingers past your lips, testing you. And you were more than willing to accept his little challenge. His fingers pushed on the back of your tongue, feeling your lips graze all the way to his knuckle as you worked on breathing through the feeling of his fingers shoved down your throat. 

You were determined for him not to get the best of you, to prove how you had some experience under your belt. Your tongue willingly swirled around his digits, humming softly as you suckled. Now it was his turn to look like he was ready to fold. You felt him swell in your hand, the hand still stroking over his erection in his briefs. 

He ripped back his fingers, leaving them with a pop to your lips. Holy shit. You took a few deep breaths and swallowed, blinking back the tears that his fingers provoked from going so far down. 

“Damn, baby, look so pretty down on your knees for me. Don’t make me wait ‘ny longer.” Joel’s breaths were heavy, his southern drawl exaggerated in his lust-filled state. 

A proud smirk laced on your lips, his eyes on you as he watched you pry down the material of his briefs, watching as he lightly lifted his hips off the stool and using the drafting table behind him as leverage to let his jeans and boxers rest comfortably around the top of his thighs. What you had been craving slapped eagerly into the palm of your uninjured hand, an unexpected little moan leaving you. 

You studied his cock with anticipation, the glowing pinkish-red tip glistening with pre-cum from all the anticipation. He was generous in size, he would be the biggest you had ever taken. He was just… grown. You let out a satisfied little mmm, smirking up at him as your fist wrapped delicately around the base as you pumped over just the bottom half of him. 

Your hand came up to push some hair behind your ear but Joel was quick to handle that for you, stroking the stray pieces back behind your ear and then planting his palm right on the top side of your head. He tried to guide you closer but you just continued to smirk at him, a desperate grunt leaving the back of his throat. 

“Don’t play with me, kitten.” The nickname had you fawning, much better than the other nickname he had given you in the past. Maybe this new one would replace the old, the girl he dismissed before now a woman whose attention he craved. 

You guided his tip to gently tap at your flattened tongue, using his base to guide him until you generously wrapped your mouth around his leaking head. He let out a satisfied hiss which made you smirk, knowing you were the one making him dance on the line between pain and pleasure. 

You let out an involuntary mewl as the fist he had made in the back of your hair forced you further down his rigid member, feeling wet tears threatening to spill over your waterline as his tip nudged against the back of your throat. He said not to play with him and you disobeyed. 

Your palms flattened to the front of his thighs as you pushed yourself off of him, gasping for air as you swallowed the mixture of your spit and his leakage that clogged your throat. 

“So fuckin’ pretty chokin’ on me like that, such a pretty face.” He sneered, referring to your teary eyes. But the compliment made you blush and the choking and sobbing was all of a sudden worth it for the praise. 

After that, you craved to take all of him just like he wanted. Your head worked in subtle bobs, taking inch by inch of him at a time. Sometimes his hand in your hair guided you, allowing you to take him with confidence as he let out disgusting groans and low moans. 

Your gluck, gluck, glucks filled the shed, hot pants leaving your mouth around him but not willing to let your head up. Trails of your saliva attached themselves from his balls to your lips, the sight being a trophy for your hard earned deep throating. He was already so close, you couldn’t bear not to taste the prize you had worked so hard for. 

All of a sudden, Joel stood up from his seat at the drafting table and you couldn’t help but show a look of disappointment. You thought he was done, going to leave you like a mess on the floor with bruises on your knees from the cold concrete and your slobbery mouth feeling his loss. 

Your wet eyelashes fluttered as he returned to fist the hair at the top of your head and angled your face upward, watching as his other hand yanked on his member. The sight made your jaw drop. 

“Where do you want me to finish?” His words were pained, stretched thin as he tried to hold out for an answer from you. But you wanted him to finish, you wanted to watch his face contort from the wake of his orgasm that you helped create. 

“Mmm,” you hummed out as you purposefully prolonged his finish, watching as his chest puffed and his skin grew rosy from the heat flooding his body. Your cockiness was punished by a tighter grip in your hair, yanking your head closer to his shaft to force a real answer out of you. Your scalp stung but only a smile was on your face. 

“You wanna cum on my face, Mr. Miller?” You asked in the most innocent tone you could muster, your mouth parting at the sight of him. He looked heavenly. The glow from his shed lights made him appear as if he had an angelic glow. But you knew he was hellish, nothing close to an angel. 

Joel let out a scoffy little grunt at your question, a wicked smile gracing his lips as his hooded eyes slowly fell completely closed as the shock of his orgasm coursed through his body. 

You eagerly watched and you hated how hungry you knew you looked right now. You licked your lips, eager for his taste, eager to make the Joel Miller cum. You were desperate. 

His cock began twitching in his hand, watching as he methodically yanked out his own orgasm. His eyes lazily glanced between his shaft and to your large eyes, slowly smirking at the sight of you holding out for him. 

“Let me see that tongue, darlin’.” His words were breathy, just on the edge of no return. You obeyed, dropping your jaw and flashing him your tongue as you fluttered your eyelashes. At the sight alone, he finished himself off with eager grunts and short moans, you swore one of them was your name. 

His hot cum landed on your face, your eyes closing in satisfaction with a cocky smile. Most landed on your tongue, a few piping hot white strands splattered like paint on your cheeks and nose. All the air in your lungs left you as he tapped his pulsing tip eagerly against your tongue, watching with his jaw slack as he let the rest pool onto your tongue and down your throat. 

You swallowed knowing he was watching, his hand in your hair relaxing. He tasted better than you expected, a new craving. 

Instead of fisting your strands, he started stroking them away from your messy face, praising you as he tucked himself back into his pants.

Both no longer in the hot fantasy you swore you imagined once, you tried to collect yourselves. You shakily stood up from the ground, your knees cold from the concrete. You wipe off any dust or dirt they may have collected, sneaking glances at Joel as he fastened his belt around his waist once more and popping the button of his jeans back into place. 

You glanced around for a tissue, your back to him as you cleaned up your face. Oh my god, you were wiping Joel Miller’s cum off your fucking face.  As the two of you pieced yourselves back together, he reached for his discarded flannel that he had given you still resting on the metal chair you previously abandoned before settling between his legs. 

“Said you were cold. Take it.” He said as he fisted some of the material and looked at you expectantly. You sighed before gently taking the material and wrapping yourself in its warmth. 

As he placed a bandaid on your palm to cover your futile wound, you admired the flannel in all of its unknown beauty. 

It was one of his older ones, you sort of felt bad because you could only assume it was one of his favorites. It adorned a few minor holes and rips, some of which were badly stitched back together in an attempt to salvage it for another few years. Despite its appearance, you melted into it because it smelled like him. It smelled smoky like his cigarettes or maybe that was just the residual smoke from the bonfire. As you walked outside, you could smell it clearer.

Sandalwood with a hint of cinnamon, you wondered what cologne he used. 

Your head was lost in thought as you began to wander back towards the bonfire, a sharp clearing of his throat bringing you back to your senses. You whipped around, seeing as he pointed to the stray wood you had dropped from earlier.

“Oh-” you said bashfully as you returned to the pile with him, both of you knelt down picking up stray pieces. Once you started piling the wood in your arms again, he let out a short chuckle from deep inside him as he held your wrist from stacking more. 

“That’s enough for now, just go.” You liked seeing his face lit up like that, knowing you were the cause of it being even better. 

“Okay, Mr. Miller.” You cooed quietly, his face hardening at the name of adoration you had given him. 

“Okay, Skids. I’ll be seein’ you.” He said with a tight nod of his head, his eyes directing you back to the fire. You set down the firewood by the rocks surrounding it as a barrier, clearing your throat as you returned to the tailgate. You could still taste his cum on your tongue. 

No one seemed to notice your trip taking unexpectedly longer than necessary. Your parents were both swaying their heads and laughing, empty bottles by the legs of their folding lawn chairs to explain their obvious lack of awareness. 

Sarah had joined up with other friends in your absence, but you didn’t mind. 

You finally had a moment to reflect on what had just taken place in Joel’s shed. You let your vacation house neighbor cum in your mouth. Your older, stoic, stubborn ass of a neighbor. 

As if on cue, Joel returned to the side of his truck with his body leaning against the tailgate. His jean-clad hip lightly grazed your thigh, glancing over to see him offering you a beer. 

“Since you’re all grown up now.” He said with a little spark behind his eyes. You nodded and took the opened beer with a growing smile. 

“Cheers.” He offered as he held out his bottle to clink with yours. 

“Cheers to another summer in Danbury.” You tell him. 

He cocked his eyebrow and glanced over to you one more time before he focused his eyes on the growing fire. 

“This one ain’t quite like the rest.” It almost sounded like a promise from him. You hoped it was. Because you were wearing his flannel and you were on his knees for him tonight, you wondered what experience of Joel could offer you this summer. 

---

read part 2 - dark paradise!

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Inescapable Part 4 (Steddie X You)

Warning with some notes: Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie & Young (Early 20s) Fem college student Y/N; Dom/Sub dynamics, SMUT, steddie get intimate, degrading (little boy, slut, etc), light choking and spanking, dirty talk, FLUFF, Y/N talks about Olivia.

ANGST *breathes it in like coffee*, Starts where the last chapter ended, father threatens all three, reader is smacked and threatened to never see them again, mentions of an arranged marriage, boys touch on their lives in prison and how they cope, some toxic behavior from the boys in regards to keeping the reader safe, guys are hurt and blood is mentioned, mentions of a rough birth but no real details are given (they're both fine <3), SLIGHT cliffhanger ending.

Word Count: 5474

Series here/Donate to me <3

“Here’s what’s going to happen.”, your father commands as he continues to glare their way. “You will stop speaking and all communications end today. If I catch even a single letter being sent her way, I will make you regret it. Am I being clear, boys?”

“We love her.”, Eddie answered causing your dad to roll his eyes as he rose to his feet.

“It seems what I’m saying isn’t sinking in.” Grabbing the metalhead’s hair, he roughly pressed his face down into the steel table making him grunt in pain as Steve pulled at his handcuffs to try and help to no avail. “All of that ends today. You will never see my daughter again or that baby. It’s my job to protect her and I’m not going to let you murder her like you did those other kids.”

“Dad, please.”, you beg. “I love them to.”

Your dad snickers slightly as he lets Eddie go before leaning against the wall and folding his arms. 

“Say your goodbyes now and just so you know she will be taken care of. Derek and I talked about it and after HIS baby is born, they will both get married and live happily ever after. Amen.”

Their eyes flick to you as the tears begin to flow again and you reach for their hands.

“I didn’t agree to that, I fucking swear. I love you both so much and I’ll always be here. I promise—” Tugging at your bicep, your father lifts you from your seat as you continue to try and cling to them. “NO! Dad, please! DON’T DO THIS!”

Guards come in to uncuff the boys as your dragged out of the room and into the hallway. Hearing your screams and pleading, awakes something primal in them both and all they can think about is getting to you. 

Steve elbows a guard in the face and shoves another out of the way as he runs down the hall but before he can reach you is tackled to the ground followed by Eddie who only got as far as outside the doorway. Feeling the same, you hit your dad’s chest hard enough for him to release you and you slide to the floor to be by their side. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!”

Using all of his strength, one of Steve’s arms was freed and he reached out to pinch your cheeks, bringing your lips to his. 

“This isn’t over, honey. I promise. We’ll get to you.”

Eddie was able to wiggle out of the officers hold enough to wrap his arm around your neck and kiss your lips as well. 

“We love you, baby. Everything’s going to be ok.”

You began to sob harder when they were hit with something hard as you were lifted off the ground and carried out to your dad’s car. 

***

 As your father begins to drive away, you scream and kick at things in his truck until he pulls over to the side of the road. 

“Calm down right now and you listen to me, Y/N! I will not be the fucking embarrassment of this town. Do you fucking hear me?”

“You already crossed that bridge when you cheated on mom with the town slut in the back of your cruiser. I guess fucking criminals runs in the family.”, you spit. 

The sound of his palm hitting your cheek and your gasp that followed silenced you as you glared past him out the driver’s side window. 

“Listen to me and you listen good. You will stay away from those men or so help me God, Y/N, I will make sure they stay in there for the rest of their Goddamn lives. Do I make myself clear?” When you don’t answer he shouts, making you jump as he repeats his question. 

“Yes, sir.”, you grumble through gritted teeth. 

“You will marry Derek before the baby is born and then we will go back to all our normal routines like one big happy family.”

Folding your arms, you turn to lay your head against the glass as you continue to cry. 

####################

June 3rd, 1998

Steve’s nose scrunches in anger as he punches the boxing bag they keep in the gym of the prison. As he glances towards his friend, Eddie’s eyebrows raise in amusement. 

“Fuck off, Munson. Don’t give me that look.”

“I’m not looking at you in anyway, Harrington. I’m just…a little worried.”

“I know but what can we do trapped behind this fucking concrete wall.”, he grunts as he continues punching. 

“I meant I’m worried about you.”

Steve’s chest puffs out as he wipes the sweat from his forehead, ignoring his friend as he continues what he was doing. Abruptly, the metalhead takes hold of his arm and pulls him into the bathroom nearby. 

“You have to calm down.”, Eddie scolds.

“How the fuck can I be calm! It’s been a month with no word. No phone calls, letters, nothing. What if something happens to her or Olivia?!”

It was an automatic reaction, something both of them had done a few times over the years and more to calm the other. Taking ahold of Steve’s cheeks Eddie crashed his lips to his own, his fingers tangling in his hair before both men are panting as they rest their forehead against each other’s. 

“You think this doesn’t kill me to? But what can we do, Steve? We don’t have enough money to buy another night out.”

“We have enough to get to Canada.”

The metalhead’s eyes widen as he searches through his friends to see if he’s serious. 

“I thought we wanted to do this right? What life would she have?”, he whispers.

“What life would she have married to fucking Derek with her dad breathing down her neck?”

“Steve…I don’t know...”

“Munson! Harrington! Your lawyer is here to see you.”, a guard called sharply making them jump before quickly exiting the room. 

***

“Um, Bobby, where are we going?”, Eddie asks as they pass the interrogation rooms they usually meet with their lawyer in. 

The guard doesn’t say a word as he continues to lead them further down the hall and outside to a separate building they had never been to before. Both men brace, preparing for anything especially after the last few months they had before the man stops just outside of a cellblock door. 

It looked like every other one except this one had no window so people could peak in. 

“You have three hours to go over your case and anything else you may need.”, Bobby relays, looking around as he leans in to unhook their cuffs. “I told you guys I’m on your side. Three hours. Not one second longer.”

Their eyebrows furrowed as he opened the door but all confusion and worry evaporated when their eyes landed on you. 

Before you could say anything, you started to sob as you ran forward with Steve meeting you halfway as your arms wrapped around him. 

“I don’t…how…how are you here right now?”

“I had to come make sure you were ok.”, you hiccupped as you hugged Eddie next. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve been trying to figure out how to get to you but my dad’s been a tyrant.”

Tilting you head back, the metalhead cupped your face as his thumbs tried to dry your eyes.

“He threatened to hurt you or keep you both in here longer and I was so scared.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t worry about that now. As long as nobody’s hurting you.” Ignoring him, you took hold of his thumb to bend his hand so you can place tender kisses on his palm. “Nobody’s hurting you right?”

Again, you didn’t answer and this time Steve intervened as he lightly but firmly gripped your jaw making you sigh.

“After we left you, my dad got mad when I told him he couldn’t stop me from loving you. Since then, his friends have been keeping an eye on me. Following me to school or back to my house. When I do my homework, sometimes they’ll show up to dig through my work to make sure I’m not writing you.”, you explain as you wipe your eyes and back away towards the bed. 

“My mom came down and tried to intervene but that didn’t go well. They fought and she couldn’t take it anymore so she went home. She offered to take me with her but I told her I couldn’t leave you.”

“Have you lost your mind?”, Steve scolded in a firm tone that had you sitting up straighter. “Take her offer and get out of here. You’d be safer and happier with her!”

Your anger fueled eyes glare his way. 

“I would NOT be happier. I would be just as miserable if not more because you wouldn’t be there!”

“We still won’t be there, sweetheart.”, Eddie sighs as he sits beside you and rubs your back. “We still have another 13years here but at least with your mom you could call and write.”

“No…no. Everyone else has abandoned you but I won’t.”, you declare making them swoon as he leans over kiss your cheek and Steve kneels in front of you taking your hands. 

When he rests his head against your stomach, he feels a little push causing him to jerk back as you giggle. 

“Yeah, she moves quite a bit now.” Taking both their hands, you place them where you felt her move and on cue she kicks her little feet against them. 

“Wow…”, Eddie breathes as his thumb rubs your skin. “Probably has a lot to say about all this. Don’t you, princess?”

Reaching into your bag, you hand them your new ultrasound and a big grin spreads across their faces as they take her in. 

“You see she has her little nose and these cute tiny hands.”, you beam as you point to things on the image. “Your, um, your uncle gave me a cassette of your band playing songs and Olivia just loves it. She wiggles around.”

The metalhead softly smiles your way before you both watch him stand and face the wall away from you. 

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m, um, I’m ok. I just need a minute.”, he chokes out causing you to rise and wrap your arms around him as you lean your head on his back. “I hate all this bullshit. We shouldn’t even be here! We did nothing wrong!”

You squeezed him tighter wishing you could take away his pain. This was the first time you were seeing this type of break but for Steve it was nothing new. They could hold things in pretty well until they couldn’t and that animosity would spill out, sometimes aggressively. 

“How can I help?”, you whisper.

“You can’t, Y/N. Not in your condition.”

“I’m pregnant, Steve, not broken.”, you giggle making both him chuckle with you. 

“Naw, baby girl, we know but sometimes in here our outlet is a bit different than what we did with you out there.”

“Come on, sweetheart. You’re a smart girl. Do you really need it spelled out?!”, Eddie snapped startling you as you let him go.

His dark eyes locked with yours and you could feel the other man’s practically boring into your skull as they waited for you to get to the realization on your own. 

“Oh.”, you squeaked in a little voice that had their heads tilting. “Is it…do you like it? I mean is it consensual?”

“That’s a stupid fucking question.”

“Hey.”, Steve growled towards his friend who exhaled through his nose as he looked away. “Yes, it’s consensual. We would never do anything to genuinely hurt the other. Like with you we have safe words and everything.”

“Is it intimacy or survival?”, you murmur, your tone getting smaller and smaller; you were dropping. 

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Why?! So you can decide if you still love us or not?!”

The other man rose to his feet and suddenly took hold of Eddie’s throat. 

“Don’t talk to her that way. She’s trying to understand. Right, honey?”

“Yes, Daddy. I love you either way. I just want to know more. You never made any indication that—”

“We didn’t know if we could trust you.”, Steve responded before Eddie could. “It started as survival…needing someone to hold in the middle of the night when the lights go out. Needing to feel safe in a place that’s anything but. You touch yourself needing that release but after a while you want…NEED more.”

“People would make it into something it’s not.”, Eddie added. “Something dirty like the only reason we do this is because we’re in prison. It may be the reason it started but… us being rough with each other… it’s hard to explain and to be honest I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to.”, you coo as you press up to kiss his lips. “Do you want me to give you some alone time? If this is between you two I don’t want to intrude.”

The metalhead’s hair lightly swats at his face as he shakes his head. 

“What do you need from me, Sir?”

“I want you to watch.”

Nodding, you kiss him again before turning to do the same with Steve and waddling to a chair next to the bed. After smiling comfortingly your way, he turns his body to face his friend. 

“Soft, rough or rough, rough?” 

“Both, I think.”

“Ok, baby. Use me.”, the pretty boy smirks as he sarcastically takes a bow with his arms wide open. 

Gripping his cheeks, Eddie crashes their lips together and a little sigh leaves your own as you watch them mingle together. When Steve’s arms came back down, they wrapped around the other boy’s waist, lifting him off his feet to walk with him towards the bed. After pushing the metalhead onto the mattress, Steve yanks off the man’s sweats and underwear before taking his cock in his hand and taking him into his mouth. 

“Fuck, Steven.”, Eddie groaned as he moved the boy’s hair away from his face to watch him. “All the way down. I know you can fuckin’ take it.”

At the sound of his light gags, the metalhead tightened his grip in his soft locks and guided his head lower to take him deeper. 

“That’s it. Choke on it. Choke on my dick, dirty boy.” Chocolate eyes flick to you as he notices you squirm in your seat and place your hands between your legs hoping to ease the ache. “You like this, Y/N? Watching him struggle to take all of me down his tight little throat?”

“Y-Yes, Sir. Does he feel good?”

“Jesus, you’re asking a lot of stupid fucking questions today. You’ve felt his mouth, you know how amazing it is.”

“I…I didn’t.” Eddie blinks as he tugs on Steve’s head, allowing him to catch his breath. “I only felt your tongue that night.”

“We’re going to correct that right now. Come here, baby.” With his arm steadying you behind your back, you removed your pants and kicked them to the side. “Go ahead and rest your back against the pillows.”, he instructed and you followed as you watched him pull Steve to his feet to undress him. 

Falling onto the mattress, Steve slithered on his stomach between your legs and his palms gripped your thighs. 

“Fuck, you smell so good.”, the man whimpered breathily as he pressed his nose to the cloth against your core. “Tell us if you need stop at any point, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy.”

Moving your panties to the side, his tongue pressed against your clit and a cry caught in your throat as the width of it seemed to envelope you.

“Oh my g—“, you moan as he licked between your folds in long, slow strokes that had your eyes roll shut as your fingers run through his hair much softer than the other man’s. Steve hums against you and the vibration has your eyes searching for the cause, landing on Eddie pushing two of his digits inside of the boy in front of him. 

“I told you, sweetheart. His mouth is fucking heaven especially in this hell.” When Eddie grumbles his last sentence, his hand comes down hard on Steve’s ass making him grunt and flick his tongue faster against your nub.  “Come on, dirty boy. Make our girl cum. Make her cum so I can fuck you like the slut you are.”

His fingers dug into your skin as the obscene sound of slurping filled the room till you shuddered and came against his tongue. Eddie spanked him again as Steve pushed up onto one of his palms while his other rested above your mound as his thumb rubbed slow circles against your bundle of nerves.

Your eyes continuously took in the little features on his face as the metalhead spit directly into his hole and gradually slid his cock into his entrance. Steve licked his lips as his head fell but you quickly grabbed his chin to lift it back up. 

“You…you look so handsome like this, Daddy.”

“Fuck.”, he mewled as Eddie took hold of his waist and thrust his hips. 

He seemed almost lost in what he was doing as he roughly pounded into him with each grunt that fell from the pretty boy’s mouth bordering the line between pleasure and pain with your gentle caresses a stark contrast. 

In the middle of everything, Steve’s eyes abruptly snapped open and you saw that primal look you had seen in them both when your dad was pulling you away from them. Gripping your thighs again, he pushed them open flat against the bed and lobbed a huge glob of spit into your cunt before pumping two of his long, thick fingers inside of you. 

Your own eyes closed until you gasped at the feeling of a tongue against your clit immediately recognizing it wasn’t Steve but Eddie. Laying his chest onto the man’s back, he leaned his head against his shoulder as his mouth played with you.

“Fuck…I’ll never get over how…sweet she is. Don’t…Don’t stop fingering her, Steven! Or I swear to God.”, the metalhead growled through gritted teeth. “Make her cum again, little boy. That’s it…thrust those fingers so fucking deep. Shit—you’re just as tight as her.”

“More.”, you begged and Eddie obliged as he fell into you again to flick your nub with his tongue as he rolled his cock into the man beneath him. “I’m…”

As the ball dropped and they helped you through your orgasm, Steve offered his digits to his friend who eagerly licked them clean. Pushing back onto his knees, he chased their highs as you limply slid your body under the pretty boy and he rested his face in the nook of your neck. 

“How does he feel, Daddy?”

“Mmph—good.” Your lips delicately kissed his until you felt his face scrunch as his sweaty forehead fell against your skin. “Fuck, baby.”

At his shaky breath, one of his hands reached down to stroke his cock till you felt his release land on your thigh. Eddie’s palm took hold of the man’s throat as he pulled him closer to his chest and kissed him much softer than he had been. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much…for everything…sweetheart. Mmugh—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Steve nodded and as he clung his arms around him, the metalhead grunted as he pounded his release into the boy beneath him. 

Their heavy pants filled the room as they stayed like that and you waited patiently for them to collect their bearings. 

Steve was the one to move first, crawling forward, and collecting you in his arms as his head hit the pillow. Eddie silently went to work cleaning his friend and then you before laying down in front of you so he could take your hand in his. 

“Thank you for trusting me enough to show me that. If you ever want to be intimate in front of me or without me…I don’t mind.”

The metalhead’s palm gently pets your head as he leans forward to kiss your forehead. When your eyes meet his, you notice a deep pain within them that breaks your heart. 

“We don’t really think too much about it but I do know that when I hear him cry at night I feel so helpless. When I hold him and kiss him, it makes me feel safe to. Like I have some control, you know?”

“Have you considered thinking about it?”

The metalhead knew what you meant, nodding as his fingers caressed your cheek. 

“We can’t in here. People exploit that.”

“Do they exploit that when it comes to me?”

“No…probably because they know we would fucking kill anyone that came after you or hurt you.”

His beautiful eyes darkened and Steve pushes up on his elbow to glance over your face. 

“Anyone?”

“Anyone, sweetheart. Any convict. Any Ex. Any…tyrant.”

You should be afraid…but you’re not.

You should be disgusted that they would kill someone for you…but you weren’t. 

You should hate men like them…but you didn’t.

Shaking your head, you curl yourself closer into the Steve’s chest as your arms reached for Eddie who scooted as close to your body as he could. 

“We’d never hurt you, Y/N. I hope you know that.”, the pretty boy whispered as he kissed your shoulder. 

“Or anyone else, unless you felt unsafe or in danger.”

A light knock doesn’t stir any of you as you continue to stare into those chocolate eyes in front of you. 

“Do you feel unsafe?”

“15 more minutes, guys.”, the guard informed you without opening the door. 

“No, Sir.”

“Do you trust us to protect you if you were in danger?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

It takes a couple more moments but when their eyes do finally soften, they lean in to hug you tightly and kiss your lips. 

##########################

June 14th, 1998

“Munson! Harrington! Ya’ll have a visitor!”

Both men exchange a glance as they stand up from their beds and allow the guard to lead them towards the integration rooms. 

“She wouldn’t come this soon right?”, Steve whispered. 

“I don’t think so.”

The person leading them tugged their chain, signaling them to be quiet before heading outside to where they had yard time during the afternoons. Right now, it was pitch black as they had begun getting ready for bed for the evening but they didn’t think anything out of the ordinary until they were pulled into the weight room and were met with a couple of fists to their faces. 

“You know, you both are stubborn just like Y/N.”, your dad sasses as he stands up from the bench he had been waiting on. “I see why she likes you.”

A few of the guards pull both boys up to their knees and turn them to face him. 

“She’s not as crafty as she thinks she is. She did slip away for a while but one of my officers did catch her leaving this facility so—”

“If you hurt her—” Another fist interrupts, Eddie as he grunts and spits blood onto the floor. 

“Who let her in? Which guard is it?”

The fuck you that Steve answers with didn’t help the situation as he was kicked in the stomach hard and toppled over. 

“You know, she may hate me but one day she will thank me. She may think you’re innocent but I’ve seen what you did; the pain you inflicted on those people. I will not let my daughter die because of some stupid crush.”

“So you’d force her to be with someone she doesn’t like?”, the metalhead growled before being hit again. 

“If it keeps her alive and me respected than yes.”

A snarky, deep laugh left Steve’s lips as his head tilted back to stare at your father.

“That’s what it really is, isn’t it? You don’t give a fuck about her. All that matters is image and how you look. Oh, I know all about that being a Harrington.”

Your dad stepped forward and reached out to pull the man’s hair causing him to wince slightly as his jaw clenched. 

“There he is. I was wondering when I’d meet the serial killers and not the ‘poor me’ image you display for the world. Has Y/N seen this side of you yet?”

“Outside or in the bedroom?”

Steve was punched much harder than before making Eddie snicker hoping to distract them.

“She hasn’t and she never will until you give us a reason to.”

“Don’t you mean unless?”

“That’s up to you.”

A little hm noise left your dad’s mouth as he smiled and stepped away. 

“Y/N had her baby a couple of days ago.” Both their eyes snapped his way as his grin grew. “She named her Olivia Y/L/N. She wanted to give her your last names but I forbade it. I was going to put Derek’s last name but…I figured I’d give her this especially after the birth.”

“Are they ok—ugh!”

“Oh, Mr. Munson, what happened? Not so sarcastic now are we? Here’s what’s going to happen. Since my daughter disobeyed, you will be punished. I’m thinking for Mr. Munson here, Indianapolis. That’s where your father is right? And Mr. Harrington how about Washington? I think that’s far enough away.”

At the sound of both men’s shouts his way, your father smirked as he headed out the door. 

“Enjoy your last night together, gentlemen.”

***

Monitors continually to beep as your eyes fluttered open.  You were still incredibly exhausted after rushing to the hospital and being in labor for as long as you were before Olivia decided to grace the world with her presence.

Olivia.

“Hey, hey, no. Don’t move. What do you need?”, Derek asked as you began to sit up. He sighed when you ignored him to reach for the crib and touch your daughter’s cheek to make sure she was ok. “The doctor said you should rest and take these…”

As he reached his hand out to give you some pills, you swatted them away across the room. 

“Y/N, I’m trying to help.”

“Fuck you.”

Exhaling, he took a seat by the foot of your bed and you immediately curled into yourself so he wouldn’t touch you.

“I didn’t know what to do. Your dad said if I did this he could help my family. We are in so much debt and my mom is about to go bankrupt. I could get kicked out of school and my family could lose their house—”

“So you agreed to settle down and ruin my life, you selfish asshole.”

“I’M selfish!?”, he hissed. “You brought an innocent baby into this world who has no idea her father is fucking murderer. And what, you were just going to raise her by yourself till she was 13 in a town where she will be ostracized?! She deserves better.”

“Fuck you. You are NOT Olivia’s father.”, you growl.

Derek’s eyes darken in anger as he rises to his feet. 

“Whether you like it or not I am now and next week you’re going to be my wife so it’s time you start accepting that fact. You did…once.”

As soon as he leaves, you lay your head back and sob. A part of you knew he was right; that Olivia deserved better but she deserved Eddie and Steve. Two men who loved her and you and shouldn’t have been placed in the position they were in. 

The sound of the baby cooing grabbed your attention but as you shifted in bed a palm roughly covered your mouth. Your wide, fearful eyes locked with Eddie’s as he slowly placed his finger over his month and gestured towards the door where you saw Steve waiting.

Rapidly taking them in, they both had cuts and bruises on their face that looked fresh. The metalhead himself had a pool of blood on his shirt and when you reached out to touch it, it was wet and he didn’t flinch. 

It wasn’t his.

Olivia whined again as both your eyes fleeted in that direction. 

“Miss Y/N?”, one of the officer’s asked from down the hall. “Baby is making noise.”

“Shhhhhhh!”, a nurse loudly calls towards him making him huff. 

“How is girl going to be a mom when she sleeps through a baby crying—”

As the man stepped into the room, Steve wrapped his arm around his neck in chokehold till the man stopped struggling and slumped to the floor. 

“Are you both ok?”, Eddie whispers as he lifts his palm while you watch his friend begin to remove the cop’s uniform. “Y/N, look at me, baby.”

“Wha-Wha-What’s happening?”

“We don’t really have time to explain right now but we can after we start getting where we are going. Can you move?”

As Steve put on the jacket, he tucked the gun into his pants and continued to search for something but for what you weren’t sure. 

“Y/N!”, Eddie growls in a low rumble that makes you jump before he exhales trying to control his temper. “Sweetheart, we don’t have a lot of time for this. Do you want to come with us or not?”

“I-I-I can walk but—but not fast. I need medication.”

The other boy grabs your chart and flashes it towards his friend who nods. 

“Does Olivia need anything from the doctor?” 

When you shake your head, Steve abruptly kneels in front of you and slides some scrub pants along your legs. 

“What happened to your faces?”

“Ok, honey, I’m going to carry you and Ed’s going to get the baby. Ready?”

“Answer one of my—!”

This time the pretty boy’s palm silenced you when you raised your voice, his own angry irises glaring into yours. 

“You have to be quiet, Y/N.”, he grunts in annoyance before sighing and moving his hand to caress your cheek. “Your father caught you leaving the prison.”

That’s all you needed to hear as it suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe and the machines around you began to beep. 

Leaning his forehead on yours, he began to inhale and exhale with you, guiding you as you felt Eddie kiss your temple. 

“Miss Y/L/N? Everything ok?”, the intercom cackled. 

“Um, yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I just had…had a nightmare.”

“Do you need something to help you go back to sleep?”

“No, ma’am. I’ll be alright. Thank you.”

The three of you wait and Steve hands his friend the scrubs he found as he gently lifts you off the bed to place you in a chair nearby. You watch as he grabs the officer and nervously takes off everything attached to you before hooking it to the unconscious man. When the monitors continue to beep steadily, he grins. 

“Oh, I know, princess, I know. Daddy’s got you.”, Eddie murmurs softly as he lifts the baby into his arms. 

As you try to stand, the world spins and you fall back down right as Steve catches your wrist.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I just…just need to sleep…”

Nodding, Steve pushes the cap down on his head and blocks as much of his eyes as he can while Eddie puts a face mask over his mouth. Pointing towards the wheelchair, he hastily puts you into it and begins exiting the room. 

“Are there any other officers you’re aware of around here, Y/N?”, he whispers.

“I don’t know…but I’ve…only ever seen one.”

“Excuse me.”, the nurse calls. “Where are you taking her?”

“I, uh…”

“I wanted to get some…air. Is…that ok?! I know my father has me…fucking shackled here but I can still move around! I’m bringing this asshole…is that…ok?!”, you shouted as best you could. 

The lady eyes you up and down before standing to head to a cart next to her. 

“Take this before you go. The last thing we need is you getting an infection or something. And don’t be out there with that little one too long. She needs to rest to.”, she instructs as she hands you a cup of water to swallow your pill. 

“How much more rest does she need?”, Steve asks, absently gesturing your way while trying to hide his genuine concern. 

“She’ll be ready physically within the next couple of days and you guys hounding me constantly about that won’t heal her any faster! Jesus.”

Rolling his eyes, he continues forward to the elevator and all three of you exhale a sigh of relief as the doors close around you. 

“Do you think you can hold her, Y/N?”

“Where are you going?”, Eddie asks as he gently hands you Olivia. 

“I’m going to run to the third floor to grab her meds. Find us a car and I’ll meet you out front.”

###############

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @noooah @baileebear @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon @rockmusiciscalming12 @mikeyswifie @poofyloofy @eddiexmunsonlover @dreamliners @munsonmoonshine86 @bexreadstoomuch @kitkat80 @myherometalhead @hardladyheart @sheisjoeschateau @chelebelletx

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Mcr headcanon: y/n (gn) is starring in a horror movie and they’re character d!es in the movie.

Like they d!e in a HORRIBLE way, like horrifying way, how do the boys react to it?

TW: mentions of a fictional character's death, mentions of food, mentions of jealousy

Gerard

I'm literally on my way back from a Yosakoi festival after getting up at 3am (it's 9pm currently, I had 4 hours of sleep), and my feet have been in soaking wet shoes for the past 10 hours (I think they're starting to develop gills) because the rainy season decided to made a comeback and they had to cancel the fireworks because of that (at a festival that's called a "fire carnival" of all events), and you're coming with this? Not formatted properly because I'm literally sitting in a bus, that's driving through the Kyūshū night while I have glitter stones stuck to my face and two braids with Yukata-hair-accessories on my head.

WC: ???

Assuming Gerard knows what's gonna happen, he's probably looking forward to it. He's sitting in your living room, watching the screen attentively, the snacks you were sharing long forgotten as his eyes follow the action. He's leant forward, ellbows on knees, asking "oh, is this where it happens?" in an almost gleeful voice. Depending on how sudden the scene happens, he either gets jumpscared or just follows the story like the most interesting lecture. Either way he ends up laughing, and leaning back into the couch once it's over, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and kissing your forehead. "Well done," he'll tell you with his lips pressed to your forehead.

Would he watch that movie again: sure! It's a good movie! Next time he'd like to discuss the foreshadowing of the ending through the use of colours and the weather in the early scenes of the movie.

Mikey

Mikey loves horror movies, and that his s/o is staring in one is just a major plus to him. He has a lot of experience with horro movies, so he catches on pretty early that your character is going to die, even if you didn't tell him. He would low-key get excited about it. A voice in the back of his head tells him that 15 or 20 years ago the idea of watching a character that has the face of a beloved person die on screen would have terrified him, even though he was very well able to tell fiction from reality, but now he just enjoys the action, as he feels you cuddled into his side. He might even go as far as offer ideas for even more gruesome deaths, or ways to make the character's death even more painful for the audience.

Would he watch that movie again: absolutely! Has the potential to become a new favourite of his.

Side note: my seatmate just fell asleep on my shoulder. I shall not move until she wakes up.

Ray

Ray would generally be pretty chill about it. He grew up with horror movies too, and he is used to seeing you on screen, so he isn't all too bothered by it, but probably more bothered than Gerard. He doesn't show it all too openly, only pulls you in after the scene is over and praises your work. The only indication that he is more affected by it than he lets on is when he pulls you in a little tighter that night, holding you close to his warm body with his nose buried against your neck. (Seatmate just tried sitting up, and failed. Head is back on my shoulder.)

Would he watch that movie again: he wouldn't necessarily bring it up by himself. If he wants to see you act, there are other movies you're in, where you get a happy end, or at least don't die (he prefers watching those over watching your character die, even if he has to suffer through watching you kiss another actor or actress in front of the camera. It always makes him a bit more self-conscious watching you kiss those perfect people, even if it's not real, and he get a bit more clingy than usual for a few days afterwards.)

Seatmate sat up again, is leaning towards the other side now.

Frank

Frank plays is cool, but isn't. Like the others he has seen enough horror movies and has seen you enough on screen. He's even okay with your characters making out with other characters on screen, even though he does have a (well controlled) possessive side that usually tries to act up when some person is hitting on you. (Seatmate's head is back on my shoulder. She's so cute.) So he knows he shouldn't feel that pit in his stomach opening, it's just fiction after all, you're right here next to him, babbling about how hot the studio was that day while playing with his fingers. Still he closes his eyes at the last shot showing your character staring up right past the camera with lifeless eyes. He has watched your characters die on screen before, but something about the way this is portrayed hits different. "Whoa, that looked pretty real," he'd chuckle, his voice a little more shaky than he'd like to admit, "rad acting there!" Luckily you know him well enough to see through his facade. You know he's self-conscious about his feelings towards this scene, so you don't address it directly, but you scoot a little closer to him at night, and he takes the invitation, and wrappes you in his arms (which is rare, since he usually needs a little bit of space to fall asleep).

Would he watch that movie again: only if you asked and he couldn't come up with an excuse not to watch it. He'd rather not see this last shot of your face again.

And since nobody asked, you get a picture of our banner

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 23

Holy shit guys, just two more chapters after this one. Like where has the year gone?

I have started a sequel that will come between this and the face reveal I have been sitting on for ever. This is about the vacation Steve was planning with Eddie in chapter 19. Hopefully it won't take too long and I can put it out this month for spooky season.

In this we have Jeff and Steve having a heart to heart, the heat gets the better of one of the band, and Eddie takes credit for a Jeffy idea. Lovingly, of course.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22

~

When Steve got back to the hotel he was wiped out. He hated those type of press conferences where someone had the brilliant idea to include everyone for ‘equality’ and not wanting to be exclusionary.

It really pissed him off.

He was about to get ready for bed when there was a knock on the door. He frowned at it for a moment. He wasn’t expecting anyone.

He opened the door and was surprised to see Jeff standing there.

“Hi,” he said dumbly.

Jeff huffed out a small laugh. “Hey. Can I come in for a moment?”

Steve nodded and opened the door wider to let the guitarist in. Jeff slipped though and looked around. It wasn’t a hole in the wall type room, it was spacious and clean, but nothing close to the luxury of the type of rooms Jeff and the rest of the Corroded Coffin boys were used to.

Jeff sat down in the arm chair and leaned forward on his elbows.

“So I’ve been meaning to have this talk with you for awhile,” he said with a grimace. “And there’s no way to really beat around the bush with this...”

Steve flopped on the bed and faced him. “Hit me with it.”

“So after Eddie saw the concert in Indy with Dustin,” Jeff started, “he was having a bit of a freak out, unsure what was going on.”

Steve squeezed his eyes closed tightly and pursed his lips. “Ah.” He opened his eyes slowly.

“He saw the moles and was putting two and two together,” Jeff continued.

“He told you,” Steve said dryly.

“He was really upset, thinking that maybe you didn’t trust him.”

Steve clasped his hands together and looked down at them. “Oh.” Yeah, he could see how any of his friends might think that, but Eddie especially.

“And look, I talked him out of that kind of thinking,” Jeff said. “Because a secret that big? You wouldn’t have told anyone.”

Steve nodded.

“So the reason I brought it up,” Jeff continued, “is because you got the changing the metal culture question tonight.”

“You’ve already seen it?” Steve asked his head whipping up in shock.

Jeff sat back with a huff of laughter. “We watch your band’s interviews as a band. It’s like movie night for us. Popcorn, candy, soda, the works, man.”

A small smile appeared on Steve’s lips and he pursed them to suppress it. “Can I guess whose idea that was?”

Jeff cocked his head to the side and half shrugged. “Go for it.”

“Gareth’s.”

Jeff laughed out loud, his whole body shaking with mirth. “Got it in one, man. Our drummer is obsessed with you guys.”

Steve gave up pretending to hide his smile and grinned at the other man. “And then your frontman started dating their frontman and you were never going to escape it.”

Jeff grinned back. “I’m glad you’re taking this well. I was worried you might not. Because I’m pretty sure Eddie promised to not tell a soul.”

Steve blinked for a moment. “Yeah. But it’s like Eddie knows that when I say I’m not going to tell a soul, I mean everyone but Robin.”

“Fair enough,” Jeff agreed, nodding. “Eddie told me about you when he was watching the interview you guys gave early in your career about the masks and how you guys were shunned at local metal bands for being who you were...”

Steve’s eyes went wide as the implication hit him. “Holy shit.”

Jeff ran his tongue over his teeth with a grin. “Yeah. Because we both know that Corroded Coffin would have been absolutely at the top of bands screaming about a bunch of preps trying to break into the metal scene and to go back to pop where you came from. Which isn’t fair.”

He ducked his head with a bashful smile. “You guys didn’t have go that far, though.”

“The hell we didn’t,” Jeff huffed. “How many good bands had been torn down because they didn’t fit the mould of whatever they were trying to break into? Too many and that’s not right. Not in pop, not in country, and sure as hell not in metal.”

“Thanks, Jeff.”

Jeff nodded once. “You bet your ass. I just want you to know that I have your back. No matter what. And that includes against Gareth if I have to.”

“How is he doing by the way?” Steve said somberly.

“He’s doing better,” Jeff replied. “He’s hit a couple of rough patches, but he’s improving, especially now that he has a place to put that reckless energy. I hate to say it, but think Bri was right waiting for him.”

Steve smiled. “That’s good.”

“How are you doing?” Jeff prodded. “Don’t think I didn’t know about the meltdown after the duet.”

Steve blushed deep and dark, ducking his head. “I’m doing okay. I’m learning to reach out and ask for help. I never really had anyone growing up. My parents didn’t care, my friends were only with me because what I could give them. Hell, my first girlfriend did the same fucking thing. Then the kids see me as an older brother, and so do my bandmates. Like who was there for me to rely on?”

“Well, Robin for a start,” Jeff said leveling a glare at him. “Eddie for another. Now Vickie. And clearly Shane. You better add me to your list of people to depend on, too. Because I am there for you.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and then nodded. “Thanks, Jeff. You’re right, my support system is bigger than I thought, especially if I let people in to help me.”

Jeff stood up and held out his hand to Steve. “Come on, you could use a beer or three and I’m buying.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

“That’s the spirit!”

Steve grabbed his wallet and keys and followed the guitarist out of his room. Like Gareth, maybe he could get better too.

~

“What do you mean I’m out?” Shane hissed at no one in particular as he rummaged through makeup kit. He looked up at Robin as Celeste. “Someone send someone else to get me more body paint and then I’ll pick up some on our way to the next town.”

She nodded and pulled out her cellphone, grabbing one of the empty bottles from him.

He waited impatiently with the mask on for the PA to arrive with it and when it finally arrived he just started smearing it everywhere.

“Are you sure that’s the right stuff?” he whined as it caked on thicker than normal.

“It should be,” PA huffed. “It looks just like the bottle you gave me.”

Shane huffed but continued to apply it all over, with the PA helping with his back and places he couldn’t quite reach.

“I can’t believe there is fucking draft right where my kit is,” Spence growled. “You guys are going to be as hot as hell while I freeze my ass off back there!”

Shane rolled his eyes. At least Spence could layer, they still had to wear their fucking hoods in this fucking hot weather. No more outdoor venues in the middle of summer.

They couldn’t even do their drop from the rafters in this place, cursing whoever it was who picked it.

“Stop your bitching,” Robin huffed. “It was a last minute change because they had a leak at the other venue and they feared black mold!”

Steve ground his teeth. “I swear to God, if one more thing goes wrong today, we are never coming back to this fucking town!”

They all agreed.

They got into position and waited for the spotlights to come on. One by one the spotlights came up in their color, Azrael even getting a cool black light.

Half way through their set, Astraeus started to sway a little. Abbadon checked in on him, but the bassist waved him off. He was fine.

Then suddenly he wasn’t fine. In the middle of one of his solos, Astraeus crumpled, going straight down.

Abbadon rushed to his side. He looked up at Azrael who nodded.

Jeff and Eddie who were watching from the sidelines like they did every night gasped in shock.

“Shit,” Jeff said pawing at Eddie’s chest. “Go! Swap clothes with Azrael, they need a medic and Azrael needs to be seen with the rest of the band.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Why me?”

Jeff grabbed his shirt and pulled him in close. “Curly hair, right build. Go!”

Eddie ran to the back of the dais and both Azrael and Hopper glared at him.

“You need to be seen next to Astraeus as much as he fucking needs a medic!” Eddie repeated.

Hopper and Azrael nodded and Hopper began handing Eddie the drummer’s clothes. He pulled off his own clothes and quickly yanked on Spence’s.

“Thank fuck you wore sleeves today,” he hissed as the shirt went over his head. “Otherwise the gig would be well and truly up.”

Spence frowned for a moment and then realized. “Your tattoos!”

Eddie nodded, tugging on the pants and boots as fast as he could. Soon Azrael was EMT Spence and Eddie was Azrael.

They both dashed onto the stage, making it look like Azrael had gone to get help.

Asmodeus and Abbadon were grateful for the masks to hide their shock.

“I’m Eddie,” he whispered so only they could hear. “Don’t worry about that now. Just focus on Astraeus.”

Abbadon and Spence worked together to get Astraeus off the stage. Spence was yelling at roadies to grab as much ice as they could and to bring it to trailer.

They stripped Astraeus down, removing his clothes and mask and shoved him under the stream of the shower.

“Shit!” Spence growled. “The paint isn’t coming off!”

Eddie as Azrael grabbed one of the bottles that Shane had used. “This is acrylic! Not body paint!”

“Fuck!” Abbadon cursed. “Start scraping it off with your fingers, it should come off like a second skin!”

Eddie and Spence started doing what Abbadon suggested and just started tearing off the layers of paint.

There was a knock on the door and quickly Spence covered Astraeus’s face. Azrael/Eddie hurried to open the door and there were five roadies with huge bags of ice. They started packing the bassist’s body with the ice as they ran cool water in the shower.

It would have been better if they had a bathtub, but there was no way there was anything that big–

“One of the beer booths had a huge ass cooler,” one of the roadies said. “You think he’d fit in that?” He held up his arms to show the dimensions.

Spence and Abbadon looked at each other and then said as one, “Yes!”

The roadie grabbed a couple of other guys and went to go grab it. Hopper went with them.

They came back with the cooler and lowered Astraeus into it. Then they packed the ice around him adding water to fill in the gaps.

Steve gave Eddie’s hand a squeeze when the roadies left. He took off his mask and Eddie did the same.

“That was quick thinking on your part,” Steve said.

Eddie chewed his lip. He knew it was wrong to take credit for something Jeff said, but no one else knew that Jeff knew who the men behind the masks were. And Eddie really didn’t want to freak anyone else with that knowledge. So he nodded.

“I know people can’t see your hair,” he told Spence, “but your hood falls a certain way because of the long curly hair, add having a similar build and I was literally the only choice.”

Spence nodded. “I get it man, plus having the drummer suddenly vanish like that only has two outcomes, and both are fucking shit.”

Steve tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Either Spence’s secret is out, which is horrible,” Eddie explained, “but what might even be worse is having the fans turn on him because he bailed when his bandmate collapsed.”

Steve’s eyes went wide as he looked back down at Shane. “Fucking hell. I didn’t even think about that.”

Then Shane was starting to come around. He opened his eyes and then squinted at Eddie for a moment.

“Fuck, I think I hit my head on the way down.” He struggled to sit up, but Spence held him down.

“Let me take your temperature first, dumbass,” he huffed, pulling out the thermometer. “Make sure you’re not going to die on us.”

Shane settled back into the cooler and rested his head on the rim. “Someone want to tell me what the fuck happened or do I have to play twenty questions?”

So Steve and Eddie explained while Spence took his temperature and blood pressure. After he was satisfied with both he helped Shane out of his makeshift bath.

Shane looked around at the three of them, batting his eyelashes. “Does this mean we never have to come back to this god forsaken town again?”

Spence and Steve laughed while Eddie looked confused. Yeah, Shane was going to be just fine. Right after Steve promised to tell Eddie the joke later.

~

Part 24 Part 25

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I'm actually thinking I might be doing one chapter every other night, but I would also like to draw on my comically large art tablet at some point this week, so I might skip a day or two.

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 2: Color Matching

You partially regret just agreeing to "tomorrow", seeing as this man decided that he wanted to show up at 4am.

It was the original time set for yesterday's session, and you guess he felt bad for being late, but god damn he texted you an hour earlier telling you he'd be there by 4am. Dragging yourself out of the comfort of your bed was difficult, but in the end it was worth it to draw such a stunner.

You had to get there before Leon did, so there you were; half awake, dressed in a pair of fuzzy pants and a loose t-shirt, and a small cup of tea in your right hand while the other fumbled with the keys to your little work room.

That was the greatest part about your job as a professional painter. You didn't have a dress code.

Though most days you did try to look your best, some days it was just easier to be comfortable. Besides, it's not like tons of people come and see you everyday, it was usually just one person at a time.

It was 3:47am by the time you'd gotten to your workspace and settled, sitting on one of the many floor pillows in the living area you put together away from the actual painting setup. The tea was warm, it was keeping you sleepy, but you couldn't stop taking small sips. It was in your hands, there wasn't much you could do to stop yourself.

You told Leon to just come on in when he arrived, not wanting to walk all the way back down just to lead him back up. The stiffness from sleep was still in parts of your body, so you knew it would be difficult to get up, even when he did finally stride through that door. He dressed nicely today, just what you needed him to do.

Wanting to relish in the dim yet warm lighting of your various lamps for as long as possible, you beckoned the man to come over and sit with you, which confused him slightly. He thought you would be ready to get started once he showed up, but he wasn't one to argue so early in the morning. Instead, he shrugged and slowly sauntered over to you, taking a seat on a floor pillow across from yours.

"Good morning." Leon grumbled quietly, his voice barely hiding the fact that he wasn't quite awake either. That rumble in his chest made your stomach flutter. "Good morning to you, too." You responded, closing your eyes for a moment to take another sip of your tea.

"When uh-" He cleared his throat, putting a fist up to his mouth as he did so. "When are we gonna get started?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, moving the cup away from your lips to stare at him. "I wasn't expecting to be up so early, so just give me a few more minutes to wake up and then we can turn my main lights on."

Leon sucked on his teeth as he thought, turning his head to look over out one of the windows as he rested his wrists on his knees. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to make up for being late yesterday."

You laughed softly before letting out a quiet sigh, setting your tea down on the low coffee table sitting behind you.

"Don't worry about it, but also don't make me get up so early again, old man." You attempted to joke, immediately noticing the wince on his face at the nickname. To divert, you stood up and stretched, patting his shoulder as you walked by him. "Alright, let me pull my stuff out and then we can get started."

Leon followed you with his head, taking a few seconds before standing up himself, pressing his hands onto his knees to help get up from the floor pillow.

"I'm just going to be color matching your tones today. I won't do all of it since obviously lighting changes throughout the day, buuuut..." You trailed off, beginning to rummage through a drawer in one of your desks before pulling out handfuls of paint tubes. "I just need to pull out the basic colors I'll be using."

It was still pretty dim in the room which caused you to have to squint to see the names of the colors on the tubes. Leon found that partially amusing, his chuckle causing you to glare playfully over at him. "Something funny?"

"As funny as it is to watch you go cross-eyed looking at those," he smiled, gesturing with his thumb to the light switches near the door. "I feel like it'd be easier to just turn the lights on."

"My retinas will be fried if those get turned on-" You were cut off by your own shout when Leon took the liberty of turning the lights on himself, laughing as you quickly moved to cover your eyes.

He only had to squint for a second before his eyes adjusted. You, however, were not expecting the sudden change, so you got an eyeful of bright white light. Complete and utter agony that lasted for a full five seconds.

By the time you moved your hands away from your eyes, they were watering and you had to squint for awhile longer. "Give me a warning next time you decide you want to try and murder me like that." You said, wiping away the few stray tears you'd produced from the light sensitivity. "You might live in the light, but I don't!"

The man shook his head and crossed his arms, smile still plastered to his face as he slowly made his way over to the chair in front of your easel. "That's payback for calling me an old man."

You twisted your head around to the chair so you could give him an indignant look, catching a glance as he was putting his hands up in defense with a small "what?" before you turned to look down at the tubes of paint sitting next to your hands on top of the desk.

"Nothing, just wasn't expecting to work with a toddler, that's all.." You mumbled, smile creeping onto your face as you heard him click his tongue from behind you. "I was an old man not five minutes ago and now I'm a toddler?" Leon asked, voice peaking dramatically.

"Yes, you have quite the range, Mr. Kennedy." You began sifting through the various paints you'd pulled out, humming softly as you contemplated what route you wanted to take with them. Stick to primaries? Add secondaries? Should I just use every color I need? Hmmm..

Leon watched as you stared at the paint tubes you'd picked up, tilting his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look. He snapped his head back upright when you started to speak again. "I'm trying to decide whether or not to use a lot of different colors, or just stick to a minimum.."

It was almost as if you knew what he was wondering. "Uhh... what's the difference...?" The man questioned, raising an eyebrow as you turned around, seemingly having made your decision already.

"Using just the main 6 colors-" You turned around and were faced with his very confused stare, causing you to explain a little better. "The main colors you see in a rainbow."

He breathed out a quiet "ahh" at that. Okay, good. He knows his basics. Cute...

"I can mix just red, blue, and yellow at varying degrees to get any color I need. Adding green, purple, and orange will help even more." You pursed your lips, lightly tossing the paint tubes in your hands before setting them down away from the other tubes. "I need white also. Damn.."

"What's wrong with white?" Leon asked, leaning forward a bit to watch you dig in the drawer for a tube of white oil paint.

"Nothin'. Just forgot, is all. Trying to keep this as authentic as possible..." You mumble, quickly closing the drawer with a slam after pulling out the paint you were looking for.

Silently nodding his head in acknowledgment, Leon turned his focus to his surroundings again, admiring your choice in decor once more. He bought a nice decorative pillow for his couch yesterday after being here the first time.

You grabbed a few strips of thick white paper, running your thumb along its textured surface before setting them down. You told him to stay where he was as you set up a small art palette, little dollops of the paints sitting neatly in the circular grooves.

"I'm gonna make color swatches of your skin for myself." You spoke up as you suddenly turned and walked towards him, holding the palette in your left hand while holding the strips of paper and a small yet flat paintbrush in the right. "Also, I'll need to get a picture of you in the position you want, but I'll do that after all of-" you waved everything you're currently holding in a small circle. "-this."

Leon simply responded with an "oh, okay", his knee beginning to bounce as you quickly began to mix little bits of your paint together to get a simple pale skin tone down before you even attempted to match his.

As you worked, you were starting to grow nervous with the silence, and clearly the man in front of you was as well, given he had started to sweat slightly on his forehead. He wasn't nearly as conversational as the last two agents you painted.

"So.. you've earned yourself a portrait..." You smiled slightly, holding up the strip of paper you'd brushed your mixed paint on to see what colors to mix in next. "What'd you do to earn one?"

Leon hummed. It was hard to think about every mission he's gone on, all the horrors he bore witness to, the people he saved, the people he couldn't save, how it all started, and now the fact that he's done-

"Hey, woah, I'm sorry." The sound of your voice drew him away from his thoughts. "I didn't know that would be a.. sore subject for you." He blinked at you a few times, furrowing his eyebrows soon after. "What?"

You pulled the strip of paper away from his face, pulling your lips tight with a shrug of your shoulders at his response. "You suddenly looked mad. Like... really really mad. I thought you were gonna snap at me or-"

"No. It's just bittersweet, is all." Leon cut you off, waving his hand dismissively at you before nodding once down to the paint palette in your hand. "You can keep going."

You stayed frozen in your crouched position for a few seconds longer before continuing to swatch your paint. You kept silent, not wanting to seem like you were antagonizing him.

"I used to be just a cop." The man suddenly said, causing you to look up from where you were mixing your paints together. "Only for a single day, but I was a cop. Simple as can be."

You nodded, beckoning him to continue with a small smile, which he did. "I'm sure you've heard about some of that already though, since you worked with Claire not too long ago."

His comment caused you to let out a small "ohh" in sudden recognition, nodding your head again. "Yeah, that's right! She mentioned you on that, okay.."

Leon continued to talk about all of his missions vaguely, still having to keep confidentiality in mind. You let him drone on, having gotten his skin tone matched in a few different areas now. You stopped to scribble on the papers with the paint swatches, making sure to label where each tone came from on his face and hands.

You took note of how he circled back to his single day as a cop and to certain missions. His mention of saving the president's daughter had you immediately smiling. That was a straight ticket to earning his own portrait in that hall of the White House, he could've done just that his entire life and he still would've been seeing you at some point.

You focused on mixing your paint for a little while before noticing he had grown quiet, looking up to see him staring out the window, a faint orange glow from the sun rising highlighting his features. And his tears.

Growing concerned once again, you set down the paintbrush on the palette so you could place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It seemed he didn't notice that, too lost in his head to notice anything at this point.

"Hey..." You asked with a soft voice, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. "We don't have to talk about it anymore, you know..."

Finally, Leon looked back at you, eyes widening once he realized how watery his eyes were. He turned his head away so you didn't watch him wipe the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and use his sleeve to dry his eyes. It wasn't like him to be so easily bothered by this stuff.

"I just need one more color swatch and then you can go, okay? We can save the photo for another day." You gave the man a weak smile, one he didn't reciprocate. You understood.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but you filled in for him. "Seriously, it's no trouble at all. If you need more time then you need more time." Standing up from your crouched position, you left your half-finished color match swatch with the finished ones before walking over to set everything down on the desk.

You didn't want to crowd the poor man. That was probably the last thing he needed. Despite having only painted for a select few, you've learned to just step away from these retired agents when things would go awry. It was akin to a war veteran suffering from PTSD; they did almost have the same experiences as far as you could tell.

"I'm sorry."

Leon finally managed to say to you, his hands anxiously rubbing up and down on the tops of his thighs. Must be a nervous tick.

You angled yourself so you could see him while your body still faced the desk, smiling at him while your hands worked to neatly stack the strips of paper before clipping them together with a paper clip.

"There's absolutely no reason for you to apologize." You kept your smile as you responded to Leon, looking back down at your hands to make sure everything was put together properly. "You forget I strictly work with agents like yourself. From all the vague tellings, I know that the job is tough on you guys; body and mind."

It was weird having someone outside of the agency talk to him about this kind of stuff. It was weird for him to be bringing it up in the first place. Or, at least he felt like it was.

"Still, I should know better than to do that." Leon sighed, rubbing his hand along the side of his face before stroking his chin, scratching at the stubble growing.

"Know better than to do what? Let yourself process everything you've been through?" You spoke in almost a whisper. If your tone was any louder, you fear you'd come off as accusatory.

"I get it. Really, I do." Leon groaned quietly at your words, causing you to click your tongue. You grabbed your swivel chair and scooted it over so you could sit in front of him, and when you did, you brought your legs up to sit criss-cross just like yesterday, only there wasn't a table separating the two of you. You looked solemn. He didn't like where this was going.

"The whole point of painting you a portrait is to honor you and your work as an agent, but it's not just about getting yourself painted." You leaned forward in your chair, elbows resting on your knees, all the while keeping your voice hushed and gentle. "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

Your words were really starting to strike a chord for Leon. He hadn't given it much thought. He didn't want to give it any thought at all. All he thought was "I'm just going to get myself a nice fancy portrait and be done with it". He didn't even consider what the portrait of him would actually symbolize.

"Oh." Was all Leon could muster, letting his gaze fall into his lap where his hands now sat clasped together. If it weren't for the comfortable environment you had set up here, he probably would've bolted ages ago.

You let him think everything over for awhile, wanting to give him all the time in the world. Clearly he needed something, but he wasn't allowing himself any sort of leeway.

It took some courage building internally, but you decided to stand up, taking the one step closer to him before placing your hand on his shoulder once more. You squeezed it a bit, bringing his attention back to you as he lifted his head up.

You attempted to smile at him, moving your hand off his shoulder so you could hold your arms out slightly. This man needed a hug and you were more than willing to offer the leeway he wasn't granting himself.

Leon stood up rather quickly which surprised you, and startled you just a bit, before feeling his large arms tightly wrap around you. It was a little awkward since he had to bend a bit to hug you properly, but it worked out in his favor, and yours too, since he got a better opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck.

He sighed happily when he felt your arms slowly wrap around his chest, doing your best to squeeze him for that extra bit of comfort, even rubbing up and down on his back. It had been so long since he had a real hug. It felt good.

You let him hug you for as long as he needed, which was longer than expected, but definitely not unwelcome by any means. Though, his warm breath against your neck and the smell of his cologne was causing you to blush. That's really the last thing you needed him to see after being so vulnerable and open with you.

You felt him start to pull his head away, prompting you to pat his back gently as an end to the hug. Despite the fact that it was faint, it was clear to you that he was blushing when you were finally able to look up at him.

You wanted to remain calm for Leon, letting out your nervousness through a quiet cough. "I know we've only met up twice, but if you ever need a change in scenery, just know that my workspace here is always open to you. I'm always open to you, okay?"

Your words were making him feel weird. Something he hasn't felt in a long time was creeping up his chest. Your smell lingering on his coat wasn't helping, either.

"Yeah-.. yeah, okay." Leon huffed through his nose, reaching up to scratch at the stubble underneath his jawline as he averted his gaze to the floor.

The sun was fully up now, so you walked over to where the light switches were next to the door, flipping them off. All your other ambient lights could be turned off later. For now, you needed to focus on the man still standing in front of that maroon chair.

"You can stay if you feel you need to, but I just want you to relax." You said, looking over at him as you heard his footsteps slowly walk past you to the living space.

"I'll head out." Leon bent over and grabbed his motorcycle helmet from where he'd set it down on the rug near the floor pillows. He placed his on his head as he walked over to where you stood next to the door, not really wanting anyone to look at his tear-stricken and red face any longer.

Once he finished fiddling with his helmet, you reached out and took his hand in both of yours, patting the top of it softly. "Text me when you're ready to come back over."

You couldn't see Leon's face anymore since he'd put the visor down, but you could definitely see him nod his head. He opened the door and let himself out, touching the side of the doorframe as he rounded the sharp corner and walked down the stairs.

After closing the door behind him, you started walking around your workspace to turn off all the lamps and other ambient lighting, pausing to listen to the sound of his motorcycle start up and drive off.

[unexpectedreylo]

So, It Wasn't Planned After All

https://x.com/RichEisenShow/status/1734703529552699725?s=20

While Adam Driver is making the rounds to promote "Ferrari," he drops by the Rich Eisen Show and when asked about Ben Solo during the True or False segment, Adam spills the tea.

He doesn't get asked much about Star Wars so this is the first time I think he's talked about his character arc since TROS was unleashed upon us 4 years ago. And he drops the bomb that the Ben Solo thing wasn't planned from the beginning. That's right, Bendemption happened late in the game. He says that JJ Abrams told him the idea was Vader In Reverse (starts out vulnerable, ends entrenched in the dark side) and he kept that concept in mind throughout the time he filmed the ST, until they changed it with the last film. Adam has alluded to the concept of Vader In Reverse before but this is the first time he's gone into greater detail about it, including the revelation that the decision to turn Kylo from the dark side came during the third film.

This shouldn't be surprising to anyone who read the Duel of the Fates script and it explains why Ben hardly says a word during his scenes on Exegol. Abrams and Co. conceived of Kylo Ren as an evil bastard whose destiny was to get eviller; killing Han Solo was meant to be what sent him down the path of no return. Then two things happened: TLJ and Driver's commitment to humanizing Kylo Ren. People loved Kylo and Rey together (hence Reylo exploding in popularity) and they fell in love with Adam. They empathized with Kylo. So they changed course with TROS, a little. Kylo returns to the light as Ben but he is quickly dispatched once the big battle is over. I believe Ben's death was for two reasons: one, they were less invested and focused in Ben's part of the story than we were and two, there was always the intent to end the Skywalker line so Star Wars could focus on new characters. Remember, Rey essentially turned Skywalker into a title that could be transferred to anyone.

That the story changed over the course of the trilogy isn't that big a deal. There was no Chosen One prophecy until the prequels. Leia wasn't Luke's sister until Lucas wrote ROTJ. Han wasn't guaranteed to get out of carbonite because nobody was sure if Harrison Ford was going to come back. Instead of a tyrannical, ruthless bastard like Lee Pace's emperor in Apple TV's Foundation show, Kylo Ren gave us quivering lips, teary eyes, and mooning over the heroine who is supposed to be his enemy. When Rian Johnson introduced the bond between Rey and Kylo, Abrams and Terrio explained it as a dyad and made it prominent in the film. The kiss got put in because Reylo was so popular. Okay, fine.

The problem was they never should have made the Jedi Killer from early drafts Han and Leia's only child. As an old Star Wars fan who saw every film since 1977 and followed the Skywalker clan for over 40 years, I didn't want to see Anakin Skywalker's grandson end up even more evil than he was. What a huge bummer that would've been, even worse than if Rey was killed off. (For the record, I hated the whole Darth Jacen thing so much in the legends books I stopped reading them.) Abrams and Terrio probably realized it was going to be a problem returning to the idea that Ben was too evil to save; TROS already comes off as a tragic ending rather than a happy, triumphant one. And it goes against the whole message of Star Wars. So it ends up being Vader 2.0 and fans hoping Ben would survive were disappointed. I wasn't fond of the idea of exile or something as Ben's fate prior to TROS, but now I think that probably would've been the best outcome. It would've left a lot of possibilities to explore in future SW stories without having to come up with a convoluted explanation for bringing him back.

As much as they fumbled the ball, I'm glad they at least spared us Evil Kylo 4 Ever and Adam's turn as Ben was great even without anything to say besides "Ow." Adam sounded a little disappointed to me but maybe I'm just reading into it too much. In any case he has also stated in recent interviews he would be open to returning to Star Wars, so I guess we can still be hopeful even if he doesn't appear in the upcoming film. (Just don't wait 30 years, okay?)

[fertilize-my-eggs]

The night stalker ch.1

Ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5 A03

A/N: the first chapter is base on my dream a few days ago so I believe it's was sleep paralysis demon that I was having but this give me the idea for this chapter :3

Blinking the tiredness away as I curl into a ball, the soft warmth touches on my delicate skin. I turn over for the fresh air of the ac as I sigh quietly.

I blink away to see a dark figure near my bed as I stare at it a bit. It's holding what I assume is a small gray camera but it's suddenly disappeared before I get to look at it a little longer. I think my mind was playing tricks as I turned over and didn't think much about it.

I curl over as I pull the blanket over my face, it's a bit unnerving to see something like that out of a horror movie in real life. I should stop watching those true crimes on YouTube as I doze off into sleep.

It was a bright beautiful morning as I stretched out my arms, I yawned out loud as I rub my eyes a bit.

Living in Japan by myself feels refreshed but I miss my home life in my country as I get up to start my early breakfast.

I put my thumb on my lips as I think, I need to study for my college about speaking Japanese and its culture. I smile softly as I play with my hair, I put it into a messy bun.

As I head into the living room to turn on the television for news, I feel a bit isolated about being alone in this apartment but I always thought Japan was such a beautiful place and also it was time for me to start a new chapter for my journey as a foreigner woman.

I begin to prep the potato as I peel it, I look over to see the weather lady talking about a nice sunny day as I smile. It's gonna be nice weather as I wash the peeled potatoes.

It's cut to a news man explaining about an unwanted criminal as I cut it into small pieces.

An unwanted criminal? As I pause the cutting as I begin to look at the TV.

“ an unknown male in his early 20s has been breaking and entering houses, murdering anyone who lives in it. ” I gasp as I hear him speak about the location as I bite my lips, it's close by where I live. It's hard to make out what he is saying since I'm still learning Japanese but he said.

“ The man goes by the night stalker, make sure to lock everything, your windows and doors at night time. ” I tilt my head as I think, it can't be what I saw last night about a dark figure hovering over my bed… no I think it was playing tricks on me.

“ We talked to one of his victims as they explained what he looked like. ”

“ There is a rough sketch of what we assume the criminal looks like. ” it's show a man that has shaggy short hair, sharp eyes, mole and large scar near his lips.

“ If you see this man, call the police immediately!! He is dangerous. ” I slowly realized I was holding my breath as I put my hand on my chest feeling like I couldn't breathe.

I blink fast as I turn it off, the night stalker… he sounds like something that will bring hell his way if you look at him wrong.

I walk away to start the food, I begin to think about it. Hopefully I don't run into him, I shouldn't be worried about this, I'm supposed to enjoy my day.

The meal looks a bit okay but I'll still eat it anyway, I put it down on the plate as I sat down to eat quietly.

I hum about the taste as I put my fingers on my face as I think. Don't think about it, maybe it won't ruin your day.

Suddenly I get a loud bing as I pull my phone out as I read the message.

(#1 bff asshole): hey you awake smiley?

I narrowed my eyes at his message. Katsuki bakugou was my first friend that I made when I came to Japan. We started out as online friends just joking around and now I live in Japan, he wants me to join him in college with his friends as I smile.

The nickname was a bit cheesy as I giggle at it, I remember when we first did a video call he was intimidating when I first saw him but he was a bit polite and he noticed off the bat that I smile too much or whenever I make dumb jokes often so bakugou was blunt in conversation and so smiley was his nickname to me.

(Me): yeah!! I'll be here in bit, gotta eat my breakfast :>

(#1 bff asshole): well hurry up I don't have all day smiley.

Grumpy asshole as I groan at the message.

(Me): hey you… hear about the news today? About an unwanted criminal called night stalker…apparently he's around my location..

There was a long pause as I finished my meal, I got up to clean the dishes a bit.

I walk back towards the phone as the screen lights up.

(#1 bff asshole): … yeah. Are you okay? Do you want me to protect you and be your hero? Don't fall for me tho ;)

I roll my eyes at this as I puff out air.

(Me): eww gross… but in all seriousness, yeah just a bit, I wouldn't mind the others coming to my apartment for a few days.

I close my phone as I begin to head into my room to get dressed, a simple casual outfit would be nice.

I grab my clothes to wear as I bolt to the restroom to take a quick shower.

The water feels nice on my skin as I sigh in relief. I jumped out, quickly dried my hair and did a bit of makeup.

A cute white skirt with a large pink sweater to keep me warm, white leggings and a small bag that looks like a cat.

I quickly get my keys and wallet as I head out to meet bakugou.

Today is gonna be my day and I'll enjoy it with my new friends!!

I stand outside as I begin to lock the door and start to walk away to the fresh air of japan.

[amayaonly1]

Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey

Eminem x Rapper!OC

Verse 9

About: Genji finds some free time now that the album is finally in production. She decides to take a mini-vacation before returning to Japan for the New Year, only to receive a request for an interview from a girl named Hailie Jade. Hailie requests to do an interview for a school project and asks to meet with Genji, sparking curiosity in the rapper about the project and the girl's sincerity.

"Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey" Chapter List: Verse 1 | Verse 2 | Verse 3 | Verse 4 | Verse 5 | Verse 6 | Verse 7 | Verse 8 | Verse 9 | Verse 10 | Verse 11 | Verse 12 | Verse 13 | Verse 14 | Verse 15 | Verse 16 | Verse 17 | Verse 18 | Verse 19 | Verse 20 | Verse 21 | Verse 22 | Verse 23 | Verse 24 | Verse 25 | Verse 26 | Verse 27

Disclaimer: This work is a work of fiction, and any involvement of the character Genji is purely fictional and not representative of any real person.

Winter in California arrived quietly, carrying on a cool breeze that whispered through the trees shedding their last leaves. Inside her home studio, the world felt hushed, cocooned in the warmth of glowing monitors and the hum of audio equipment. Dim lights cast a soft glow over her desk cluttered with notebooks and scattered pens, their subdued radiance stretching long shadows across the room, where muted beats rolled from the speakers like a steady pulse.

The album was finally done and in production, leaving her with a rare pocket of free time. Genji decided to take a mini-vacation before returning to Japan for the New Year. Dressed in a wool sweater and jeans, she returned to her desk, cradling a steaming cup of coffee. The faint aroma mingled with the chill of the early winter evening.

As she reached to set her cup on the desk, her laptop screen lit up with a notification. She sank into the swivel chair, her gaze flickered to the inbox, where a new email stood out with a subject line that caught her eye.

Subject: Request for an Interview – School Project

The sender's name was unfamiliar, but she clicked it open, curiosity pulling her in.

Dear Genji, My name is Hailie, and I'm a middle school senior. I'm currently working on a school project about how cultural heritage and personal identity intersect in music. I plan to explore the stories behind songs and how they reflect individuality and cultural heritage. Your name comes to my mind as one of the artists who embody this. I think your music has been a huge inspiration, especially the way you blend traditional Japanese influences with modern hip-hop. It's so authentic and thought-provoking, and it really speaks to how music can tell a story about someone's roots. If you're available, I'd love to interview you about your experiences and insights. I live in Detroit, and there's a diner here called Louie's Ham & Corned Beef that's quiet and perfect for a meeting. I completely understand if you're too busy, but it would mean the world to me if we could meet and talk. Thank you for reading my email. I really appreciate your time. Best regards, Hailie Jade

Genji leaned back in her chair, her fingers resting lightly on the keyboard as she mulled over the request. Detroit? That was unexpected, though she did plan to briefly stop there before returning to Japan. After all, Eminem (ever the champion of his hometown) had suggested she check it out. She'd always been cautious about meeting strangers, but there was something about the email's sincerity that resonated with her. It reminded her of her younger self, full of questions and admiration for the artists who had shaped her path.

Her lips curved into a small smile as she started typing:

Subject: Re: Request for an Interview – School Project Hi Hailie, Thank you for reaching out to me and for your kind words about my work. It's inspiring to hear how people connect with my music. I'll actually be passing through Detroit soon, so I'd be happy to meet you at Louie's Ham & Corned Beef to discuss your project. Let's plan for next week. What day and time works best for you? Looking forward to hearing from you soon. Best regards, Genji

The diner was quiet, the kind of place where time seemed to slow down. Snow fell softly outside, blanketing the streets of Detroit in a serene white. Genji sat near the window, her oversized hoodie and scarf shielding her from the December chill. Her notebook lay open on the table, a pen in her hand as it moved swiftly across the page as she scribbled down lyrics, deeply engrossed. The quiet hum of the diner faded into the background as her thoughts flowed into the rhythm of her writing.

Suddenly, she heard the soft click of the door opening, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching her table. She glanced up, a flicker of curiosity crossing her face as a young girl stood at her side, hesitation evident in her bright blue eyes. The girl looked about fourteen or fifteen, with long, sandy-blonde hair tucked into a simple knit beanie. Her oversized coat hung slightly loose on her small frame, and her sneakers left faint wet prints on the wooden floor. The girl's breath visibly quickened, and her nervousness became apparent in how she clutched her backpack straps.

"Excuse me," she finally began, her voice slightly shaky. "You're Genji, right?"

The said woman raised an eyebrow before a small, curious smile crept onto her face. "Yes, that's me. Can I help you with something?"

The girl shifted her weight from foot to foot, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. "Yeah, actually," she said, taking a deep breath. "I'm Hailie. I emailed you about a school project...?"

Genji tilted her head, studying her more closely. There was a sincerity in the girl's eyes that struck a chord. She seemed earnest but also determined, reminding her of herself at that age when she was hungry to spread hip-hop in her community.

She set her pen down slowly and gestured to the chair across from her. "Oh, yes," she said with a thoughtful nod. "I remember. Come on, have a seat."

Hailie's face lit up with immediate relief, a smile spreading across her face as she pulled the chair out and sat down. "Thanks!" she exclaimed, her nervous energy turning into gratitude. "We need to interview someone for this project, and I immediately thought of you. I know it's really sudden, but I really appreciate it."

Genji leaned forward slightly, her curiosity piqued. "That's actually an interesting topic," she commented. "I'm curious, though. Why me? Not that I'm having second-guesses, but I'm sure America has quite a range of cultures that might help with what you need."

Hailie shifted slightly in her seat, her cheeks flushing just a little. "Well, I wanted a fresh perspective. I read that you're one of the pioneers of hip-hop culture in Japan, especially when the industry was more about pop idols and rock. I thought you'd have a unique take on this."

Genji couldn't help but smile. "I see that you've done your research," she praised. "Aight, let's figure out how to approach this."

Hailie, now enthusiastic, reached into her bag and pulled out a cassette recorder, carefully placing it on the table.

Genji raised an eyebrow, eyeing the vintage device. "That's a bit old-school," she remarked with a small grin. "I haven't seen it in a while."

The girl nodded, her excitement barely contained. "Yeah, it's what I had lying around at home," she said. "But I was thinking... what if we did this as a video interview, like something you'd see on 60 Minutes? I know my teacher didn't mention anything about this, but I thought it'd be more interesting."

Genji's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "It definitely is," she agreed, sitting up straighter. "You got a camera with you?"

Hailie beamed. "Yep." She pulled out a small video recorder and set it up on the table, her hands steady despite the excitement buzzing in her chest. She then adjusted the angle, making sure it captured both of them.

Genji leaned back in her chair as she watched Hailie work with a mix of amusement and respect. The girl undoubtedly had energy and was serious about her craft. She finally looked up at Genji, whose calm yet commanding presence seemed to fill the small diner corner they occupied. The rapper sat comfortably, her fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, her sharp eyes both intimidating and inviting.

With the camera now rolling, Hailie glanced up, ready to begin. "Thank you for meeting me," she began, her voice carrying the mix of politeness and eagerness of a young girl deeply invested in her project. "I've been thinking a lot about how cultural heritage and personal identity intersect in music, and your career is... well, it's incredible."

Genji smiled, a small but genuine curve of her lips. She gave her a curt nod, saying, "Thank you."

Hailie sat up straighter, her notebook open, pen poised. "How did your cultural heritage influence your journey in hip-hop?"

The woman leaned back, her eyes briefly distant, as if sifting through decades of memories. "When I started in the late '80s, hip-hop wasn't a global phenomenon like today," she answered, her tone soft but deliberate. "In Japan, we were just beginning to understand it not just as music, but as a culture or movement. It taught us that we could speak our truth, even if we didn't have the same struggles as, let's say, the Bronx or Compton. I grew up in a traditional Japanese household so respect, duty, and conformity were the values drilled into me. But hip-hop was about individuality, rebellion, and telling your own story. So I had to find a way to bridge those two worlds."

Hailie nodded, enthralled. "How did you do that?"

"It started with language. At first, I tried rapping in English, copying what I heard on the imported records. But there were two problems: one, I was terrible at English at that time; and two, it wasn't me. When I switched to Japanese, everything clicked. That's when I felt like I was creating something. And then I thought, why not use the tools of my own culture? I started including things like haiku rhythms, rakugo storytelling, and even koto samples. It turned into something that was still hip-hop, but uniquely Japanese."

The girl scribbled furiously in her notebook. "Can you give an example of a song where that really comes through?"

Genji’s smile deepened. "There's a track called Tsuru no Ongaeshi. It's based on a Japanese folktale about a crane repaying a debt. I used the crane to symbolise loyalty and sacrifice, which are themes deeply rooted in our culture. At the same time, it was personal. The song was about how my dad didn't understand my choices at first but eventually came to support me. It was a mix of tradition and my own story."

"That's beautiful," Hailie murmured, almost to herself. Then she looked up, her eyes bright. "Do you think that's why your music connects with people, even outside of Japan?"

"Maybe," the rapper said thoughtfully. "Emotion transcends language. When I first heard Public Enemy and Ice Cube, I didn't understand every word. But I felt their stories. That's what I aim for. If my songs can make someone feel something, then I guess I've done my job."

Hailie tapped her pen against her notebook, a question forming on her lips. "Do you think today's hip-hop in Japan still carries that connection to cultural heritage?"

Genji's expression shifted, a mix of pride and concern. "It's evolved," she said. "You hear influences from everywhere now: trap beats, drill, even traditional instruments like the shamisen. It's exciting to see how far hip-hop in Japan has come, but it comes with the challenge of staying authentic. Hip-hop is about your own truth, right? So if artists lose their connection to their roots, then I think they'll risk losing what makes them unique."

Hailie absorbed the words, her mind racing. Finally, she asked, "What advice would you give someone trying to explore their identity through music?"

Genji leaned forward, her gaze piercing but kind. "I'd say ask yourself the hard questions. Like, what do you value? What defines you? Throughout my career, I learned that our roots aren't limitations; they're a foundation. So it's up to us how we want to build on them. And don't rush the process. Finding your voice takes time. Music is a journey, just like figuring out who you are."

Hailie smiled brightly. "Thank you so much. This has been incredible!"

Genji picked up her coffee, her expression softening as she took a sip. There was a quiet satisfaction in her chest, a feeling she hadn't realised she'd been missing. She glanced at the girl, who was still clutching the notebook tightly to her chest.

"You've got a good start here," she said, her voice warm. "Keep working on it. And if you need more help, just reach out. I'll leave my email before you go." She paused, considering the timing. "But just so you know, I'll be heading back to California in three days before going back to California. So if you want to work face-to-face on anything, we should set that up soon."

Hailie beamed and nodded eagerly. "Thank you so much," she said, her voice earnest. "This means more to me than you know."

Genji smiled, the sincerity in Hailie's tone warming her. But before the girl left, Hailie hesitated and looked back at her. "Could we maybe meet here again tomorrow? Like, around the same time? I'd love to show you what I've worked on with the interview footage."

The rapper leaned forward slightly, giving her a thoughtful look. "That sounds good," she replied, then added with a small grin. "But do you know how to edit videos?"

Hailie's eyes widened slightly. "I've never really done much with video editing," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I mean, I know the basics from school, but I've never really tried editing something like this."

Genji's smile grew a little wider. "No worries," she said. "I'll show you how to get started. We'll work through the footage, maybe brainstorm some more ideas for your project."

The girl's expression brightened. "That would be amazing," she said, her excitement evident in the way she sat up straighter. "I could use some help, for sure. And, um… thanks again for everything."

With that, she left the diner, stepping into the chilly air and disappearing into the snowy streets. Genji watched her go with a thoughtful expression on her face. She hadn't expected her quiet afternoon to take such a turn, but there was something about the way their conversation had unfolded that felt like the beginning of something important. For both of them.

[katuschka]

Olalla – Chapter Three

Josh Kiszka x female OC 8.460 words (revised, April 2025)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere. Even though this chapter is still smut-free, the rest of the story won't be.

Warnings: angst, yearning, kissing, fluff, conflict and violent behaviour, alcohol consumption, slowburn, mental breakdown, LGBT themes, homophobia (World's not perfect and some people suck...not the main characters though, don't worry).

Taglist

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What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you No, I don't wanna fall in love With you

Every once in a while, you unexpectedly experience something extraordinarily nice, which somehow leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth once it’s gone. Just like when you’re watching a beautiful sunset, thinking about how trifling and unimportant our daily feuds and worries are in comparison to the macrocosm and its wonders. The moment feels so precious. … but the world keeps spinning and as soon as you turn around, you once again find yourself submerged in the stale waters of your petty life.

It doesn’t necessarily mean that Agnieszka felt that her life was in any way stale. It was just that as soon as she closed the door behind him, the whole encounter seemed like a fever dream in retrospect. One she wished would continue, because during those few hours, everything felt so new, so out of ordinary, including the fact that it did not continue. 

So, she tried to rationalize it and eventually concluded that she shouldn’t want more. This felt right… albeit weird, because it was simply different. He was different, and therefore dangerous. 

Much more casual encounters often ended in fucking. It was her reality. The guys she willingly chose to spend time with were either not interested at all in the end, or didn’t want to let go. At least not until they got a taste of all of her. Either way, it ended up in relief. Rinse and repeat.

Joshua’s touch remained imprinted on her skin like some sort of sensory tattoo, and it left her mind racing. The effect he had on her was pretty much unwelcome, the feelings that came with it were not particularly pleasant, but she involuntarily clung to them anyway. 

His goodnight was definitive, very obviously platonic - despite its unusual intimacy - and even though it didn’t feel like a rejection, it stayed outside her threshold, just as he did. 

The night that followed was not good at all. The subconscious mind is a bitch. She spent it tossing and turning and waking up in between shallow dreams filled with images of his face just within reach, yet she couldn't bring herself to touch it. Before the actual dawn, she dreamed about them sitting on top of a mountain, watching the Sun rise. He was singing again. 

Reality hit back when Agnieszka’s alarm clock rang at 4:30. Having fallen asleep long past midnight, and then again around two and three – because she couldn’t get the feeling of his lips on her cheek out of her head – she woke up with stinging eyes and a burning headache, with a long day ahead of her. Geoaning, she slowly dragged herself from the cozy bed to start preparing breakfast and snack-to-go packages for early hikers. 

She usually enjoyed this. Morning chats over coffee were generally warmer and gave her the opportunity to talk to the guests about more than just how their day went, connecting with others on a more personal level, while sitting at the same table with them. 

They were a nuisance today. It wasn’t their fault. Just a group of young women in their early 20s and a nice couple getting ready for their last hike before going back home the next day. Definitely not an unpleasant company. Without admitting it to herself, or even consciously thinking about it, she just wished Joshua would be one of them. 

He was probably still fast asleep when she left the house to do some early shopping before her daily chores. He was already gone when she came back. Visitors kept their keys, but they were asked to leave special hangers on their door handles when leaving, which proved useful in case they wanted to have their bathrooms cleaned or sheets changed. So, of course she checked his door. And then scolded herself for her unhealthy curiosity. 

She almost forgot about him by midday, too immersed in cleaning vacated rooms and getting them ready for new arrivals. Fridays and Saturdays were the most hectic of the whole week, with people generally coming or leaving at weekends. Finally, after three pm, Neszka  could get some rest and enjoy her afternoon coffee (with just a drop of Bayleys) behind the reception desk in the lobby, reading the book she abandoned the previous evening, with just a few interruptions that day. 

At half past four, the bell above the main door chimed again and there he was, entering quietly, but turning to a full theatrical mode the moment he saw her.

This guy must be fun at parties, no doubt about that. With a toothy smile, Joshua spread out his arms and trotted like a musical actor right towards her in his brand new attire. “How do I look?” he asked while wiggling his eyebrows. 

At first she thought her heart would jump out of her chest when she saw him for the first time since the previous night, but his easygoing, comical behaviour immediately made her relax. “Like a walking Columbia advertisement,” she laughed. 

“Yeah, well, I normally prefer flannels, but the guy at the store said this is more appropriate. I hate polyester… unless it’s sparkly… but I’m willing to try this,” he shrugged – tugging at the fabric of his new shirt demonstratively – and leaned familiarly on the counter. “How was your day?”

“Busy and boring at the same time. I should be the one asking that question. Have you seen or done anything interesting today? I mean, apart from becoming one of us,” she finished the sentence with a quasi-sultry whisper and dared to lean in closer to him. 

The truth was that the dark tight-fitting crewneck accentuated his lean and firm figure in a way that made her feel a bit uneasy. That man wasn’t just “quite attractive”, he was sexy! Humour and banter was her usual way to deal with unwelcome butterflies in her stomach. And it worked, because they both giggled before he answered. 

“Nothing much, was just wanderin’ around. I didn’t dare venture far before breaking in these,” he demonstratively lifted one leg to show her his right trekking boot. “Besides, I don’t know it here. I tried to follow some folks, but the path turned to a steep and stony one pretty soon and my feet hurt like hell after just a couple miles and…” 

“Wait a minute,” she started rummaging under the counter. “I forgot to give you these. Here are some maps and leaflets with touristic tracks. Stick to those if you don't want to be chased by a bear. Also, it’s a national park, so you just have to stick to them anyway. Also, tomorrow’s going to rain all day, so you might want to visit the Tatra Museum.”

“Oh, bummer. The whole day?” The meaning of everything he said was amplified tenfold by his wild gesticulations and body language. It was like watching a silent actor, except he wasn’t silent at all. “Thank you so much for these. Any recs for a good place to eat? I tried the one right at the end of the street yesterday. It was good, but I’d like to try something more local.”

She reached behind her for some more leaflets and handed him a couple. “There are a few nearby. We serve dinner to our guests as well, but you need to preorder it at least a day in advance…but that’s usually just a plain, home-cooked meal, nothing fancy.”

“But that sounds fantastic! I’m pre-ordering dinner for tomorrow then,” he beamed, and added hopefully: “Care to join me today?”

The invitation made her beam at him, before she scrunched her nose and shook her head. Did he forget she was actually working here? “I can’t, I need to go help with the dinner in about an hour and then I have some more things to do in the evening.” 

Joshua’s face fell with a silent oh and for a brief moment she actually did hate her job. Was he asking her on a date? It certainly felt that way. Maybe he just didn’t want to be alone again. It didn’t really matter. He wanted her to say yes and she didn’t want to say no, and even if it meant just two people eating together, it would be just fine. He lingered awkwardly for a short while before he wished her a pleasant evening, hoping to see her again soon. 

Neszka didn’t want to let him go just yet, not just like that… “Joshua, wait!”

“Yes…?” he turned back to her with his arms flailing around like a marionette. 

“My dad throws a garden party for our guests every Sunday evening...if the weather allows, that is. His grilled pork chops are delicious,” she tried to sound as casual as possible to hide how much she really wanted him to join them. “I…ummm… am supposed to invite everyone,” she added, regretting those words immediately when the frown appeared on his face for a split second. 

“That sounds great, but… I don’t really eat pork… or meat in general.” He looked almost sorry that he didn’t. 

“Oh! Well, there’s always mom’s redcurrant pie, and some grilled vegetables, too… Just tell me what you like and… I’ll cook it for you.” Pathetic. And yet he visibly brightened. 

“Lovely! The pie sounds just fine. I'll be there.” And with a beaming smile, he disappeared upstairs. 

The next day started as blue-ish gray when Agnieszka woke up, only to turn to just gray as the sun came up behind the thick clouds. Breakfast didn’t need to be served before seven, as half of the people were leaving that day and the other half simply weren’t in a rush due to bad weather. Some even cancelled, preferring to go have fancier pancakes with ice-cream and forest fruit in some café nearby. 

Heavy rain was drumming on the roof and terraces, and the clouds were hanging low, turning the surrounding hills into a haunting, misty landscape.   

It was a lazy, sleepy day. A perfect day for a massage, or to go to the sauna… if you were staying in one of the fancier lodgings. The residents of Willa Eulalia were mostly bored during days like these, with just TV or board games to pass the time. 

Nothing really changed much for Agnieszka. If anything, Saturday proved to be even more hectic, because mother wasn’t feeling well. So, the usual routine consisting of vacuuming, changing the sheets and cleaning the toilets turned to be even more tiresome, as she had to do it all by herself. 

The house went almost completely silent after lunch, the hushed conversations behind closed doors blending into general white noise. It was already almost two pm when Agnieszka finally reached the attic to make the room opposite to Joshua’s ready for a new visitor. She didn’t have much time left; new guests would start coming shortly. 

It looked like he was still in his room, possibly having a nap. The rain only intensified after lunch, making it fairly easy to get drowsy here, right under the roof. Neszka softly closed the door, turned on the vacuum cleaner on the lowest setting and proceeded to do what she was supposed to, while fighting off obsessive thoughts about getting drowsy with him… 

She was almost done when she heard some disturbance coming from the other room. It sounded like Joshua arguing with someone. 

Honouring the house’s number one rule “privacy first”, Neszka collected all her things and aimed to leave the attic floor as quickly as possible. Not quickly enough, though, because his sudden loud “I don’t fucking care,” followed by something hitting the wall, stopped her in her tracks. 

It was followed by even more incoherent yelling. Something was not his fault and someone called Sam should do something instead, but otherwise she couldn’t make much sense of the one-sided argument full of fuck-offs and go-to-hells. 

The call ended and Neszka was finally about to descend the stairs, treading lightly on the creaking wood, when Joshua suddenly opened the door, making her jump. She shot him a terrified look and his own expression wasn’t much different. “Sorry for the noise,” he finally mumbled. “... I… need some fresh air.” With that, he ran past her and down the stairs. 

The whole encounter troubled her, but Neszka didn’t really have much time to ponder over it, as she already had to hurry back to the reception to resume her afternoon duties, while noticing him standing on the roofed veranda on her way there. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about it though. The lobby was connected with the back veranda by a wide, transverse corridor, so when she leaned forward a bit, she could easily see him from her place behind the counter desk. 

He was still standing there, leaning against the balustrade with his arms outstretched and his head bent down. 

It triggered her inner caretaker. Agnieszka couldn’t just leave him there like that, so she poured some fresh water in the electric kettle behind the counter and rummaged through her little box of teabags. 

“Um, hey, I made you some tea… I hope you like mint,” she approached him with the steaming mug and placed it carefully on the balustrade next to him. He looked at it and smiled weakly. “Thanks, Sheldon.”

She laughed at the reference but he didn’t reciprocate, so she continued warily: “The ghost called again?

“No, that was my twin brother this time,” Joshua mumbled with his eyes focused on the neighbouring slanted rooftops, glistening from the rain.  

“You sounded a bit agitated. I thought…”

“Olalla, I really, really don’t want to be rude, but when I said I needed fresh air, I really meant I needed to be alone.” 

Neszka was taken aback by that and her eyes widened at him, but he spared her only a fleeting glance. “I’m sorry, I…”

“Thanks for the tea,” he sighed and just when she noticed his lower lip quivering, he moved past her, rushing out through the corridor and leaving her alone with her thoughts again. Slightly shaken this time. 

He disappeared for the rest of the day. 

He didn’t come to dinner that evening either. 

Agnieszka stayed on the veranda for a few more minutes after Joshua left, drinking the tea she made for him and watching fat raindrops splashing on the stony path leading to the fireside. She was mad at herself for letting him occupy her mind the way he did those past few days. For the first time in years, she allowed someone to get under her skin, and for what. Now it stung, and it would eventually get worse if she continued with this nonsense. Rinse and repeat. 

So, she just shrugged it off with an annoyed huff and put her walls back up, just like she always did. The path from hurt to pissed off to indifferent was a short and safe one. 

And then, just like a gift from above, the bell at the front door chimed and she hurried back to greet three young and carefree handsome men who were waiting for her at the reception desk. 

Neszka knew them well. They were their frequent guests, one of them being also her regular hook-up. She had been looking forward to seeing him and his radiant smile again, only to nearly forget they were coming. It was a welcome distraction now, the only downside being her sister Maya who was also arriving the next day to spend a few days with her family… and Maya hated him. 

Agnieszka knew very well why. Maya hated fuckboys and Bartek was the epitome of that. Pretty and vain and often notoriously bad-tempered when challenged, which meant he hated her sister back with passion. However, that never stopped Agnieszka from welcoming him with open arms, because he always gave her what she wanted and he never wanted more. 

He was one of her wolves. 

So screw tomorrow, she needed some comfort quickly. As soon as she finished her daily tasks and he freshened up and got comfortable in his rented room after the long ride from Poznan, he joined her in her own quarters for one of their regular “movie nights”. They hardly ever finished watching any.

She found no comfort in his touch that night, though. After snuggling closer to him on the couch, she felt nothing. His thieving hands and intrusive tongue started to annoy her after a while, and her quickly forged excuse of being maybe a bit too tired was a lame one. It was not a complete lie and Bartek knew she worked hard, but he seemed annoyed with her all the same. After Agnieszka  literally invited him to join her, she couldn’t really blame him, so she just slid on her knees on the floor and gave him a quick head. 

There was something strangely calming about sucking dick and even gagging on it. Those brief moments of not being in control made her feel like she could control everything else... When it was finally over and Neszka lay her head in his once again clothed lap, feeling his fingers scratching her scalp affectionately (but not too much), she felt calm at last. 

They were both half asleep when they heard a soft knock. Agnieszka slowly scrambled up on her feet, excused herself and opened the door to find Joshua standing there. 

“Hey,” he bounced on the balls of his heels with a tentative smile and his eyebrows furrowed. “I feel like I should apologize for being such an ass earlier. And… I’m making some mint tea… you were right, I like it… and I thought, maybe you’d like some, too? Just to reciprocate your kindness, ya know?” he nodded towards the common kitchen in the hall. 

Agnieszka bit her lip to stop herself from smiling back. Not that he didn’t deserve it, she just didn’t feel worthy of giving it. 

She had her own kitchen unit in her apartment, so this was just a nice, albeit awkward gesture and they both knew it. Joshua just didn’t want to approach her completely empty handed. 

“It’s ok.”

“No, it’s not, and I really am sorry.”

“It’s fine, Joshua. I’m basically just a maid and I had no right to bother you when you were clearly upset by… whatever’s going on in your life. Which is none of my business. It’s not like we’re friends.”

He sighed and nodded solemnly. “Ok, gotcha. I really hoped that we would be. I… anyway, I went to this store today. They sell crystals and stuff, and this kinda reminded me of your eyes. Please, keep it.” He took her hand, palm up, and placed a small malachite pendant in it. “Good night to you, Olalla…” He bowed his head down in defeat and was about to leave when a loud “kto to jest” made it snap back up to see a man suddenly standing in the doorway right next to her, his hand squeezing her shoulder almost possessively. 

Bartek looked first at Josh, then at the piece of stone in her hand and his eyebrows shot up. He was athletic and broad shouldered and, being taller by at least 5 inches, he towered over Joshua menacingly.

He was also shirtless, with the waistband of his sweatpants sitting dangerously low on his hips. That, together with Olalla’s sheer bathrobe, told him everything he needed to know. 

“Oh, I see I’m interrupting… again, my apologies Olalla.”  Bartek didn’t even wait for him to leave; he slammed the door shut right in his face. The bang made Agnieszka jump. 

“Who the fuck was that, Olalla!?”  

“No one. Just a guest.” He had no right to do that, and she should have been angry. Normally, she would snap and bite back, but his sudden shift in mood and the weight of the whole day made her defensively meek. 

“Guests don’t come knocking on your door this late to give you trinkets unless they want much more than just room service. I thought one at a time was your rule,” he raised his voice and slammed his fist against the door. “Guests don’t call you Olalla!”

“Bart! Stop it. You’re overreacting! He just…”

“Is that why you’re so frigid today? Bitch…” 

He grabbed the rest of his discarded clothes from the couch and before Agnieszka could even react, he threw the door open again and stormed out. She started after him, only to watch him pass bewildered Joshua, who really was making tea in the common hallway kitchen. Bartek stopped in his tracks after a few more steps, turned back to face them and hissed in broken English, gesturing back at her: “Already you can go back, Frodo. The dirty whore is your now.” 

With that, he disappeared down the stairs and left them standing there in silence. He with a jug kettle in his hand, frozen in motion; she clutching the door frame for dear life. Dirty whore. 

From the look on Joshua’s face, she could tell that he had overheard the whole argument, and even though he thankfully couldn’t understand a single word of it, he must have gotten the general idea. They watched each other with wide eyes for a few long seconds, until hers welled with tears. Dirty whore…

Joshua could see hurt and shame and panic in them. “Olalla,” he whispered and slowly made his way towards her, but she quickly closed the door shut, crouched down on the floor and, overwhelmed with all the emotions from the past few days, started crying in earnest. 

She tried to suppress her sobs so that he wouldn’t hear her as soon as she heard his soft knocks again. This time, she didn’t open, waiting for him to just leave her alone, and the whole house fell quiet again after a while. Only then Neszka slowly got back on her feet and unclenched her fists. 

A warm piece of polished malachite was burning a hole in her palm. 

The clouds finally dissipated during the night and the inhabitants of Willa Eulalia were once again greeted with a clear, pinkish sky on the eastern horizon, the Sun painting the whole mountain range orange. Most of the people left early, so after 7 am, only families with young kids were still in their rooms or on their balconies, enjoying the breakfast as well as the fragrant air after yesterday’s rain. 

Already warmed by the morning sun, the soaked soil and chopped wood piled up under their windows was emitting a soothing, earthy scent. What a truly beautiful morning. Not for everyone, though. 

Agnieszka had lulled herself to sleep the previous night with a little help of a significant amount of vodka and not even the fresh breeze was of much help in easing the consequent nausea. 

She suffered through the morning, thanking god that both Bartek and Joshua were gone, hopefully for the whole day. It was just a postponement of her torture, but it was welcome all the same. 

Her younger sister Maya arrived shortly after lunch, and – seeing that both her mother and her sister looked like they might fall asleep on the spot – she quickly took over their duties. Agnieszka excused herself and climbed in her bed again, wishing to disappear. 

Maya tried to get her back on her feet a few times during the afternoon, but failed miserably. It was already past 8 pm when she appeared in the bedroom door again.

Agnieszka could hear that the garden party had already started outside her window, and she just wished Maya would understand that she didn’t want to join them. Apparently not…

“There’s a gentleman asking if you would join us.” 

“Tell Bart he can fuck off.”

“Pfff,” Maya scoffed. “I already did. That fucker and his idiot buddies went out anyway, probably to the World’s End. And by ‘gentleman’ I mean a real gentleman. Though he’s a bit of a weirdo.” 

Agnieszka suddenly had a huge lump in her throat, but didn’t say anything, so Maya continued: “He also told me what happened.” 

“He did what?”

“I was at the reception about an hour ago when the German lady from room 9 made a complaint about a noise yesterday evening,” Maya started to explain while she was rummaging in her sister’s wardrobe, determined to drag Agnieszka out of her room and into the garden by sheer force, if necessary. 

“I obviously didn’t know what she was talking about, because my sister doesn’t tell me anything anymore. Duh! That’s when he walked in, overheard us, said it was his fault and apologized to her. Then he explained to me what really happened,” Maya finished and threw black yoga pants and a fluffy powder-pink pullover on Agnieszka’s bed. “This will do.” 

“It wasn’t his fault,” Agnieszka mumbled into the pillow.

“Now you’re finally talking! Yeah, no shit. I figured. The poor guy obviously got dragged into your mess. And yet he still wants to see you. Seriously, who is he? And why is your face suddenly red like a baboon's ass? Is there a legitimate reason why Bart behaved like a total jerk this time?” she wiggled her eyebrows at Agnieszka theatrically. 

Agnieszka gave her an annoyed look. “I don’t even know who he is. And we just talked a few times. And… yeah, just talking. We spent an evening talking and then he kissed my cheek goodnight and that’s it.” She rummaged in her pocket and showed Maya the green pendant. “He also gave me this yesterday. Said it reminded him of my eyes. That was before Bart’s temper tantrum. I can’t go there, Maya. It’s better if I stay away from him, for the sake of his own wellbeing.”

“Wow. Interesting! So you’re saying the two of you are treating each other like real human beings? Didn’t know you had it in you. He’s sweet though, no surprise there. I think he likes you. His smile reminds me of…”

“Don’t!”

Maya knew she overstepped. But she wouldn’t budge. Instead, she sat on the bed and started stroking Agnieszka’s hair.

“Olalla, baby, stop shying away from people. Just go. Spend another evening talking. In spite of what you think, it will do you good. Besides, you invited him, and he’s there. It’d be rude not to show up.”

Neszka could spot him immediately when she set foot in the garden. Joshua was sitting on a piece of log by the fireplace, facing her. He was deep in conversation with some other guests, but as soon as he saw her, his face lit up with a radiant smile. He looked enchanting in the firelight, sparks dancing around him like fireflies. On her way towards him, she stopped just briefly by the long table to grab a glass of wine. Hair of the dog, right?

“Hey…” Neszka still felt uncertain and a little ashamed when she reached him. “I… didn’t have an opportunity to thank you for this,” she continued, while toying with the pendant and looking down at him bashfully.

“Good evening, Olalla,” he beamed and gestured to an empty spot to his left. “Please sit.”

“You had the opportunity,” he added as soon as she sat down. “But I totally get it…” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Your reaction was more than understandable. But I’m glad you’re here now.”

“You must think low of me.” 

“I think highly of you! You’re a hard worker, you obviously love nature and those carrot cupcakes are delicious! Maya told me you baked them this morning even though you weren’t feeling well. So,” he cleared his throat and giggled. “Now that we both apologized to each other, I’m gonna need your advice.” 

“What advice?” It was Maya, the nosy brat who just couldn’t miss an opportunity to stick that nose into anything that didn’t concern at all. She quickly took a seat to his right.

Joshua looked a bit taken aback for just a millisecond before he resumed his quick babbling again. The fact that he was now forced to turn his head from side to side gave him also the opportunity to start gesticulating wildly, which he clearly enjoyed. 

“So, I decided to go for a proper, all day hike today. But apart from the fact that I absolutely don’t know where to go – I was never good at reading maps – there were sooo many people everywhere! Which was a good thing, in a way, because I didn’t get lost. BUT…”

“Where did you go?” Maya interrupted him. The two of them were like two peas in a pod.   

“Kash…kashp… goddammit! How do you guys do that? My tongue, ouch!”

Agnieszka finally laughed, for the first time that day. “Kasprowy Wierch?” 

He nodded eagerly. “Yea! That’s the one! Nice place, don’t get me wrong, but my god! It was crowded up there.”

“Of course, it’s Sunday, and you chose the only place with a cable car,” she explained, as both she and Maya laughed. 

“Well now I feel like a complete moron,” he responded to that in a cheerful tone and even wilder gesticulation. 

“So, what advice do you need, Joshua?” 

“Well, I was thinking… since you said that you work as a guide occasionally… that you could just maybe go with me? I’d love to see some more secluded places and I can’t go alone – you said that yourself – and I wouldn’t even know where to go, so… please?” He grinned, batting his eyelashes at her. 

“But that’s mostly for families or older couples or…”

“But that’s a wonderful idea!” Maya interrupted her. “You should definitely go.” 

“I have work to do,” Agnieszka spat back. 

“Bullshit. I’m here until Wednesday, I can do that. And tomorrow’s going to be even more beautiful than today, according to the forecast.”

“Perfect! Olalla, pleeeeeease,” he turned to her. “Hey, you have nothing to drink,” he gestured to her already empty glass and took it from her. “Lemme refill it while you decide to say yes.”

“Hey, who’s the guest here?”

He gave her an “oh, come on” look, grabbed her glass and excused himself. 

“What are you doing?” Agnieszka hissed at Maya as soon as the coast was clear. 

“It’s been a long time since you looked so radiant. You’ve been miserable for way too long. Enjoy life for once. You like him! And he obviously likes you,” Maya said, nodding towards the long table. Agnieszka looked up too and they watched him shooting glances back at them.

“It’s irresponsible,” Agnieszka hissed back. “He’s leaving by the end of the month.”

“Yeah yeah, totally out of your character,” Maya responded sarcastically. “Since when does this bother you? And what exactly do you expect to happen? Just go have some fun. Two friends enjoying a hike.” 

She planned a beautiful trip. Secluded, just as he wished. Away from selfie hunters. The whole trek was on the Slovakian side of the mountains, but that wasn’t an issue. They would start right at the border and cross the whole mountain range from north to south, taking the bus back to the parking lot. 

It was a physically demanding, long trek, with almost no shelters along the road and no escape routes. That’s why not so many people ventured there, even though the first half was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful places here. Joshua was beyond excited. 

They agreed to meet by Neszka’s car at half past six the next morning. She would take care of all the necessities. All Joshua had to do was to show up on time with a backpack and some spare clothes. He failed miserably. 

At quarter to seven, Neszka finally decided to knock on his door. “Joshua, come on! We need to leave NOW if you don’t want me to change the plan.” A second later she heard a loud “oh fuck!” and some scrambling noise. “COMING!”

“Coming,” he breathed out when he finally opened the door, shirtless again, still in his sleeping sweatpants and with a literal nest on the top of his head. “I’m sooo sorry! Gimme ten minutes. Fifteen minutes max!”

“I’ll be waiting outside,” she rolled her eyes and sighed. 

He finally showed up after another 25 minutes, overflowing with joy and…

“What’s that?” she pointed at his face. 

“Sunglasses,” Joshua shrugged with a beaming smile. 

“You call this sunglasses?” 

“I’m a diva! Deal with it,” he responded affectedly and threw his backpack on the backseat. 

It was almost eight when they finally set off from the parking lot in Lysa Polana. The track was an easy one for the first ten kilometres, with just a slight ascent. It was – however – breathtaking from the very start, with the whole amphitheatre of jagged peaks opening up before them in the distance. Joshua was taking pictures the whole time. He was also talking the whole time, stopping only when the pathway became very steep all of the sudden. 

They surmounted a few levels and finally decided to take a break by a beautiful mountain lake. 

It was almost noon, but there were still barely any clouds in the sky and it was getting really hot too, even at this altitude. Agnieszka wiped the sweat off her brow and splashed her bare arms with some cold water, while Joshua stripped from his shirt and jumped on one of the large stones sticking out of the water. 

Standing there with his arms outstretched, eyes closed and his head tilted back, he looked like some kind of a guru. Neszka watched him in amusement, shielding her eyes with her hand. “If you want to go on like this, you’ll definitely need to apply more sunscreen.”

“What? Are you saying that pink wouldn’t suit me? I beg to differ, my lady!” He turned towards her in some sort of clumsy pirouette and nearly lost his balance, flailing his arms and leg around in an attempt to stay dry.

“Watch it!” She laughed, while already rummaging in her backpack. “And no. I’m serious. Come here.” He jumped back and she handed him her bottle. 

“Hmmm, coconut ice cream. Nice!” he almost dipped his nose in the of lotion he just poured onto his palm and started rubbing it in the skin on his arms and chest. “I was delicious before, but now I’m going to be practically irresistible.” Agnieszka was just taking a sip out of her bottle and his cheekiness made her cough. 

“What, you don’t think so?” He wiggled his eyebrows on her. “I might need help with the back,” he added. 

“I’d rather not answer that question. Come sit,” she motioned to the flat stone in front of her. 

He turned his back on her and sat between her legs, throwing his messy braid over his shoulder. It was adorned with silver dreadlock beads today and she couldn’t help but smile at his unashamed quirkiness. 

“Why don’t you wanna answer that question?” he asked with a low voice when she started applying the sunscreen between his shoulder blades. 

Neszka took a deep breath through her nose and squeezed her eyes shut for a second. This close, she could smell his own musky scent under the overpowering aroma of the sunscreen, and it made her dizzy. 

She watched tiny droplets of sweat running down his sides from under his armpits. Running her hands over his lower back, she involuntarily imagined the same thing in a completely different scenario. 

She really wanted this to be just two friends on a trip, just as Maya had said, but his delicate, yet manly form and his direct, spontaneous personality made it almost impossibly hard. She just couldn’t get the feral thoughts out of her head, no matter how hard she tried. “You don’t need coconuts, Joshua,” she muttered under her breath.

He… giggled? This man was either completely unaware of his power or too comfortable with it. Either way, she just wanted to push him in that water. 

Instead, she squeezed more lotion in her palm and started rubbing his shoulders. “You’re a bit tense here.”

“Yeah, my lower neck’s been hurting lately. I haven’t had much exercise in a while,” Joshua sighed. 

“Here?” She pressed both thumbs in his higher trapeze muscles and he let out an involuntary moan. They both chose to act as if he hadn’t. 

“So… you exercise? What exactly do you do?”

“Yoga, mostly. Some light weights, too. I need to keep fit because of…work.”

“Work, huh? You told me quite a lot about your family, but I still don’t know what your job is.” He looked like one of those contemporary circus acrobatic dancers – she contemplated half-jokingly – but that probably wasn’t the case. He was too clumsy. 

It took Joshua a while to respond. “A secret agent,” he finally let out. “And unfortunately, now I have to kill you.” That made her slap his shoulder in amusement. “Ok, ok, I work as a costume mannequin. It’s an extremely important job, lemme tell ya. They pay well, too.” 

Sighing exasperatedly, she pinched his side, making him squirm and squeak. Joshua was keeping something from her, but Neszka had learned not to pry. “Ok, done.” 

She wiped the rest of the lotion on her things and he shifted and sat next to her, still laughing, until she handed him a water bottle. “Now drink. I haven’t seen you drink much and I don’t want you to collapse on the road. You’re tiny, but I still couldn’t carry you all the way down.” Everytime Neszka felt vulnerable, she resorted to this strategy of making clear that she was in charge of the situation, could take care of herself and should take care of others… or whatever. It was her way to weed out the toxic people. Some guys would be mortally offended by such treatment. Joshua? He just saluted her with a “yes, ma’am” and obeyed. 

They sat in silence for a while, only an occasional hawk screech or an intelligible chatter of two girls sitting further up breaking the zen-like peace of the place. “Thank you,” she finally spoke, toying with the malachite pendant hanging around her neck. 

He looked at her with amusement. “You already did.”

“No, I mean for not treating me like…what were the words he used? Oh yeah, a dirty whore. Which I guess I am. But you’re not judging me. So, thank you.”  

He rested his face on his fist and looked at her. “Why should I be judging you? People need human touch. That’s completely normal.” 

“Some more than others, I suppose. I’m just pathetic.”

“I think you’re just lonely,” he said, toying with the water bottle absentmindedly. 

“I’m not,” she huffed.

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t respond, silently watching the ripples on the lake. The idea of being lonely was one she willingly chose not to entertain a long time ago. She had her people. She had sex. She had her freedom. She was ok…

Joshua’s hand that suddenly gently cupped her face brought her from her reverie, making her turn her head towards him. His fingers slid down to the nape of her neck while his thumb continued to caress her cheek. She instinctively leaned into the touch with her eyes closed and when she opened them again, she saw him watching her intently. 

Her heart started beating wildly. “What are you doing,” she whispered. Joshua just shook his head and bit his lip before he moved even closer and closed the gap between them. She could feel his plump lips on hers and her whole body twitched in shock, making him break the contact abruptly. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his eyelids drooping, but she grabbed his face in her own shaking hands and pressed her parted lips to his again in silent plea. The tip of his tongue brushed against her upper lip, inviting her own to touch him. Their mouths finally fully connected in a soft, deep and sensual kiss that made them both feel completely light-headed. None of them wanted this to end and they continued for at least a minute, swallowing each other’s shaky exhales. At last he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. “What is this?” she whispered again. 

“I don’t know… and I don’t wanna think about it too much right now, to be honest,” he mumbled, finally opening his eyes as they broke the contact entirely. She didn’t know where to look, didn’t even know how to process her own thoughts, so she just checked her Garmin matter-of-factly, only to see how late it already was. “We need to get moving.” 

“I don’t think I can,” he giggled in embarrassment. “Just… give me a minute.” Neszka nodded weakly in silent acknowledgement and got up to re-pack their things. 

They resumed their way up the steep and stony path in complete silence save for their laboured breath until they reached another levelled post-glacial terrace with yet another alpine lake right under the narrow saddle that divided the northern set of valleys from the southern ones. 

They were now approximately in the middle of their journey and the route was getting slightly more exposed. At one point, they had to traverse a narrow ledge above the lake. It was the first passage with safety chains they had to cross that day, and by far the easiest one, as she assured him, which only made him nervous. 

They took a short break before ascending to refresh themselves when they reached the crossing and had two ways to choose from, both leading to their final destination. The one to the left was fit for more seasoned adventurers, and – based on the people coming and going – that included also kids in their early teens or older women, so it could be done. 

She knew it could, she had gone there many times before with various people. But, seeing him watch the narrow and jagged depression between two peaks in the distance warily, Agnieszka finally decided on the other path leading right up to the more easily accessible saddle. It proved to be a wise choice just a short while after. Watching him struggle while descending on the other side, clawing the chains with terror in his eyes… was fun. Him falling or panicking in the middle of the more exposed ascent wouldn’t be. 

He even misstepped eventually when they were descending down a set of cramps onto another ledge. His foot slid down the last iron bar clumsily and his bare back collided with her chest, almost knocking them both down. 

She caught him and steadied him and they laughed it off, but there was something strange about the whole situation. Neszka could feel an underlying tension between them after she released him and they genuinely looked each other in the eye for the first time since the kiss. Joshua gently brushed the back of his hand against her arm, trying to communicate something, until the people behind them gestured to them to move. 

He led the way this time, jumping from stone to stone, high on endorphins, as if his knees were made of rubber. A wild chamois. Her own shins started to burn, the exhaustion of the past few days already taking its toll. Joshua was unstoppable though, basking in the afternoon sun and once again taking pictures of everything around him, including her on a few occasions. Some things were still left unsaid and the more tired she felt with each passing hour, the more it troubled her. The events of the day made her simply wonder, but one specific feeling that started to rear its ugly head scared her.

It was half past six when they finally reached Stary Smokovec, both completely exhausted and thirsty, but happy they made it in time. The last bus to Lysa Polana was leaving at 7:05. They had just enough time to use the restroom at the electric train station and to buy some bottled water to relieve the headache. 

Reaching the bus station, they found the girls they had previously met by the lake already waiting there and shared a few words with them. The girls took the other route at the crossing and were now also headed back to Lysa Polana. They were a nice and friendly couple, so when the bus arrived, Agnieszka and Joshua took their seats right behind them. 

The sun was already low in the sky, covering the world outside in a warm hue and a fresh, lukewarm breeze was flowing through the open roof window. The sound of the moving engine made them drowsy as they watched the changing scenery in silence. It was suddenly so peaceful. One of the girls in front of them rested her head lovingly on the other one’s shoulder and Agnieszka wished to do the same, but just couldn’t muster enough courage to do so. 

As if he read her mind, he took her hand and – just like the first night – started stroking her knuckles gently. She just smiled and looked out the window again. Whatever this was, she was now determined to enjoy every single minute of it. 

More people boarded the bus in Tatranska Lomnica and soon they were on their way again. The girls in front of them started kissing and Joshua watched them stealthily with the most heartwarming expression on his face she had seen so far. He bent his head down after a few seconds, as if to give them privacy. Suddenly, they heard the driver saying something with his voice raised and angry, while looking at them through the rear-view mirror. 

The girls tensed and started whispering something to each other in Polish. Joshua looked confused. Agnieszka didn’t understand the driver at first but when he repeated those words she finally grasped the meaning behind them and gasped. He stopped the bus and opened the back door. Joshua turned his head to Agnieszka, looking positively alarmed now. “What is he saying?” She tried to translate it but her own words failed her. He got it, though. The guy wanted the girls out. 

One of them tried to negotiate with the driver, but that made him even more visibly angry. He stood up and made his way towards them. The whole bus was whispering by then, all eyes on the girls. “Do kelu, vypadnite uz, lesby zasrate!” he roared and grabbed one of the girls by the elbow, trying to push her out of the bus with force, if necessary. An older lady in the back shouted something at him, but he ignored her and continued with his speech about not wanting such filth inside his bus. Joshua clenched his jaw, stood up abruptly and went after the driver, only to be thrown back into his seat aggressively. Agnieszka didn’t even know that she started screaming. The whole situation escalated pretty quickly and resulted in the four of them being left standing by the side of the road. 

The girls were the first to recover, one of them already tapping ferociously on the screen of her phone, while Agnieszka was still just standing there in disbelief and repeating “he can’t do this, he can’t do this” over and over again. 

Joshua sat on the grass, his elbows on his knees, clutching his head. He watched Neszka having a heated conversation with the girls and his heart rate suddenly quickened. He rubbed his temple and tried to calm down by counting from five to one, but it was no use. He already felt the onset of the familiar feeling creeping under his skin. 

Finally, Neszka noticed and crouched down next to him. “Joshua, are you ok?”

“Yes,” he whispered. 

She placed a hand on his shoulder tentatively. “Are you sure? You look…”

“I am ok, Olalla. I’m ok…” but his shoulders started shaking and he lost it, startling her while he was gasping for air.  She sat down in the grass and pulled him in her arms in a vain attempt to soothe him. “Hey! Shhh, big boy. They’re fine. One of them just called a taxi from Poprad. But…it’s a long ride and neither of us have enough cash, so…do you, perchance, have some spare Euros? I’ll pay you back once we get back to Eulalia.” 

When he could finally take a deep breath and calm down, he responded in a croaky voice. “Yeah…yes, I do. I’ll pay for the ride, don’t worry.”

“No, we’ll split the expense, I’ll just need…”

“Don’t argue, Olalla!” He was resolute. 

No one spoke during the ride back to Lysa Polana, only the radio disturbing the complete silence. The girls crammed themselves in the back seat while Joshua took the place next to the driver. Agnieszka was watching him from behind the whole time. They were both deep in thought and – while she couldn’t read his mind – her own was racing. It all made perfect sense all of the sudden. Still with the aftertaste of his kiss on her lips, she felt a sudden wave of bittersweet tenderness for him. Oh, my sweet Joshua. My dear… friend.  I get it now.

Back in her car, they still didn’t speak. They had wished the other two a safe journey back home and Joshua hugged them both, but other than that, he seemed distant, watching the passing trees outside the window absentmindedly. 

“Thank you for today, Olalla,” he finally spoke, not looking at her. “It was really nice.” 

“No need to be polite now, Joshua. Just tell me what’s troubling you… if you want to. If you don’t… then don’t...”

He opened his mouth, only to move his lips in vain like a mute fish, and started crying. 

Neszka felt a sudden surge of panic. The incident itself, however unpleasant, couldn’t possibly shake him that much. Something else was going on, and she had a feeling it was related to the previous phone calls he had. It seemed impossible to return to Eulalia now. Her notoriously curious sister would be waiting behind the reception desk, no doubt. It was not her place to explain why they were both behaving as if they just returned from a funeral. She couldn’t muster enough strength to do that, anyway. And then there was Bart and his buddies, whom she just didn’t want to see at all. AND she didn’t want them to see Joshua either. Not like this. 

He didn’t even notice that she took a different turn, coming back to reality again only when they passed the town centre and were now heading towards a much smaller Gubalowka mountain range on the northern side of town. 

“Where are we going? he asked, looking confused. 

“I just thought you might appreciate a change of scenery…”

Previous chapter Olalla masterlist

@its-interesting-van-kleep @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @fleet-of-fiction @takenbythemadness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @tripthelightfantastix @sanguinebats @love-isnt-greed @klarxtr

[missbubblesoda]

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (11)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27) | (28) | (29) | (30)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 3.4k

“I’m not sure I should.” He pulled his hand away and if it were anyone else, you would have been surprised, a little offended even; but with him, this was expected and very much in character.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered softly, even though you had a pretty good idea of what this all meant. “Am I not desirable enough, commander?”

“That’s not-” The words froze on his lips the moment you started to unbutton your shirt, eyes boring into his, as your fingers worked on revealing skin and silk lace alike. His attention drifted between your face and the soft, plump skin of your breasts, somewhat visible through your lingerie. As you stepped out of your shoes, your fingers helped with your skirt. It was just one button this time, so you knew it would be very easy. And it was.

As your long skirt fell to your feet, you couldn’t help but think about your parents, and how disappointed they would be if they knew that their daughter, their darling daughter, was stripping in front of a man, a man who happened to be her boss and not her husband. And you knew that he was thinking something along those lines as well. You knew that was probably what was stopping him too.

For years, your parents had been scouting at elegant parties and fancy Sunday gatherings, scouting for a suitable gentleman you could be promised to. For most girls, it all starts the moment they turn 16, but your parents had been thoughtful enough to wait until you were 18. You remembered those times all too well, especially the itchy gowns and boring dinner conversations, where nobody had been as uninterested and impassive as you and the poor young man sitting in front of you. Over the years, you had become good friends with many of them, but a friendship wasn’t what your parents were after. They had been tirelessly looking for someone your father could proudly ‘give you away’ to, for someone who, on your wedding night, would finally claim you as ‘his property’, as tradition stipulated. And any deviation in this path would see you casting a shadow of disgrace over your family.

You stood there in silence, looking at him, waiting for an answer, a faint twitch, an indication, for something. The lingering cold of the winter, somehow sneaking through the walls, hit your bare skin, as your chest rose and fell heavily. Any other man would slide his hand into your underwear and give you what you desired, craved, and needed. They would already be touching and kissing every patch of exposed skin, which right now, was pretty much all your body. Any other man would. That’s right. But he wasn’t just ‘any other man’.

“Just say you don’t want me and I’ll get dressed.” You spoke firmly, your heart threatening to break your rib cage. “Just tell me to leave. Commander, just give the order and I’ll get dressed and leave immediately.”

“I do want you. You know that.” You did. And, in case you didn’t before, the tightly clenched fists falling to his sides were giving it away. They were trying to hold back from you. You knew it all too well, because that’s what you had been trying to do for the last few months, every time he was around you. “But like I said, I’m not sure I should. No, in fact, I know I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I touch you, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”

“But I don’t want you to stop.” You cupped his face with both hands.

“What about your fam-”

“It’s not my first time.” You looked straight into his eyes while you confessed to the worst imaginable crime any fine lady from Mitras could ever commit, and yet you couldn’t care less. “You don’t need to hold back. Commander, I’m not a little girl. I stopped being one a long time ago. I know what I want, and that just so happens to be you. So please touch me.” You begged again, not really caring about how shameless you might sound, and then waited in silence for a reaction. A reaction that came in the form of a faltering hand, slowly reaching towards you, but an invisible barrier seemed to stop it the closer he got to your skin. So you took his hand and placed it exactly where you needed him the most. And this time, he didn’t pull it away, instead you felt his fingers tentatively brushing the fabric of your underwear. And you weren’t surprised to discover that the slightest touch of his fingertips on your cotton covered clit was enough to make your mouth open in a silent moan.

As he caressed you over the fabric, you could feel your panties getting moist with every stroke, which were gentle, just as you had expected from him. He made your whole body feel like the night sky on a fireworks show, and you were torn between closing your eyes to enjoy the sensations or keeping them open to enjoy the view, the sight of those inviting lips slightly parted and those piercing blue eyes staring so intensely into yours as he felt you, as he got to know you in your most intimate form, in the most intimate of ways.

He looked so focused, sporting that same seductive look he had every time he sat down to plan a strategy or read one of those old history books he enjoyed flipping through on rainy afternoons. His eyes were scanning your features, studying your face to see what movement was correct. One could say he was like a musician tuning his instrument. And you came to the conclusion that everything he did was fucking perfect. Every circling motion of his fingertips against your clothed clit felt incredible, and just as delicious as you thought it would. You had been right in assuming your fingers could never provide you with the pleasure his could. Every single motion was deserving of a moan, that you gladly conceded. It was your way of complimenting him on his ability to make you delirious. To make you delirious when his fingers hadn’t even entered you, when they hadn’t even touched you directly. He was so talented that no direct contact was needed and you were already coming undone. And after making a mental note of asking him if this skill was natural or acquired through years of practice, you took his lips in a slow, and intentionally sloppy kiss.

The way his lips moved against yours contrasted the pace his fingers were beginning to pick up down there. He savored you in a way that stirred more than your imagination, so your fingers diligently worked on unbuttoning his shirt. And when you finally uncovered his chest and your palms felt the skin underneath, you had to pull back for a second. You were sure this was what gardeners feel when they find there is still lemonade left in the jar after hours of working under the sun, what kids feel when they find there are still presents left to unwrap the morning after their birthday. Because just like them, what you found was even better than what you had imagined.

His chest was broad, hard, well-defined, and most noticeably, lushly covered with light brown hair, except for some areas where tissue had scarred. He put any other man you had seen shirtless before to shame; maybe they had been too young, or looked too inexperienced in comparison. And you suddenly wondered how old the commander was. You realized you had never asked him. But before you could start guessing, he pulled you back in for another kiss, and as much as you wanted to admire his chest, you didn’t feel like complaining. And when his forefinger slipped under the soaked fabric of your panties and teased your entrance, your legs almost gave in. Luckily for you, in that moment, he turned you around and held you against his chest. Strong arm wrapped around your waist, while his hand kept busy between your legs.

From the position you were now in, the only thing you could see was the fireplace, the chessboard and the door to his room. That was before you felt his lips on your neck, the overwhelming pleasure forcing your eyes closed. And, as you tilted your head to grant him full access, you hoped he left marks, lots of them, so you could prove to the pages of your journal that it hadn’t been a dream. You would figure out how to hide them from your parents later.

“Commander.” You moaned when he added his middle finger and entered you gently. “That feels so good.” His lips on your neck were exceptionally pleasing, just as his thumb was on your clit. His hot breath hitting a sensitive spot on your ear, as well as the sudden realization that you finally had his thick, manly fingers inside you made you moan even louder. “Please do that again.” He obediently started licking your ear, as he fingered you at a deliciously addictive rhythm, making it increasingly harder to breathe. As his lips feasted on your skin, you lifted a hand and placed it on the nape of his neck, bringing him even closer to you.

As wet sounds and pleased hums filled the room, you pressed your thighs tightly against each other, effectively trapping his hand and, in response, he fingered you even deeper, your hips instinctively pressing harder against his body. And that’s when you felt him: swollen and eager. Both your mouth and your slit watered at the thought, and you realized that you had never wanted to open your legs so bad for anyone before.

He was rock-hard and you were soaking wet, and there was only one logical conclusion to draw from this: your bed would remain cold and untouched for the rest of the night. And you confirmed this when his fingers reached deeper into you and his free hand went to cup one of your breasts. You looked down and were happy you did, because not even your wildest dreams could compare to what you saw. Both skilled, manly hands working to pleasure you, one squeezing your breast and the other, lost between your thighs. And something about such sight made you feel as if you were his. His to touch, to play with, to entertain and satisfy himself with.

“Touch me all you want, commander.” Something about the way his hands were holding you in your most intimate places made you feel as if you were his property. “Anywhere you want. In any way you want.” And you didn’t care how dirty and impure you sounded. “I’m all yours, commander. So do everything you want to me.” You said between heavy breaths, before turning your head to look at him once again.

He answered by kissing you. And the awkward position your neck was trapped in felt far from comfortable, but you didn’t mind, not when the feeling of your mouth stuffed with his tongue and your slit, with his fingers was there to numb all the pain. You pressed your ass desperately against his bulge, which caused him to rub your clit even harder in response.

You knew it would be obscene to come from just that, to orgasm from only two of his fingers and the wet sounds they were making, but that’s exactly what your body was going to do. You arched your back and clenched around him even tighter. And he must have felt it building up too, because suddenly, he pulled his fingers out and turned you around to face him, succeeding at making every single cell of your body feel neglected in one single move.

“I want our first time together to be more than this.” He looked into your eyes as he spoke, and you were pretty sure he meant he wanted to take it to his private room, where he could make you orgasm from his cock first. But you obviously didn’t mind, so you nodded eagerly. And not long after that, he was pushing the door open, your legs wrapped around his waist, and your face buried in the crook of his neck, kissing and leaving marks everywhere you could.

His room wasn’t that much different from his office, except for the presence of a double bed, which was the only thing suggesting it was a bedroom and not an extension of his office. Bookshelves covered the walls, and nestled between them was a wooden desk, smaller than the one in his office, and also messier. Although you rarely complimented yourself, here you had too, for never letting his workspace get like that. The desk was facing a big window, where the bitter wind could be heard knocking on the glass violently. But that wasn’t a concern, because inside his room the air was warm and pleasant, thanks in part to the softwood burning slow and nice in the fireplace; but mostly because of the strong arms now placing you on the bed. His bed.

He took off his shoes and unbuckled his belt, but when his fingers went for the remaining buttons of his shirt, you called his attention by tapping on the empty space beside you.

“Let me do it.” A playful wonder built in your lower belly and found its way to the smile you now wore. Once he did as you asked, you sat on his lap, eagerly straddling him. When your weight fell on his strong thighs you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself, because whatever you had been doing for the past few months, you had clearly been doing it right. It had gotten you exactly where you dreamed to be.

For a few moments you only stared at him, doing nothing but basking in the sensation of your asscheeks spreading out comfortably on his firm, muscular thighs, and your fingers tangled in golden strands of hair. His face was as close as you had always wanted it to be, and from this proximity, he was even more handsome, if that was even possible. The first thing you noticed was that his eyes weren’t completely blue, in fact, they had very small speckles of brown near the center. In addition, his eyebrows, which looked even fuller from up close, had fine lines of light, almost blonde, brown hair; and his skin was sprinkled with very subtle freckles.

Your heart gradually became full with warmth as you admired all the details, and then with privilege when you realized that only someone staring from such close proximity would be able to make out all those small things about him. And you felt incredibly lucky you were that person now.

You felt incredibly lucky that your hips were the ones his hands were now holding. They were comfortably resting at your sides, where his thumbs had found a cozy spot under the fabric of your panties. It was so intimate, that position. Strong hands pressed against your bare skin, and his thumbs tangled with your underwear, acting as a reminder that he could pull them down at any moment he wanted.

“Commander, I really want you to make love to me.” You confessed while your hands pushed his shirt down his shoulders. “I need to know what it’s like to feel nothing but you. Absolutely nothing else but you.” Your lips sprinkled kisses on his skin, kisses that were as light as the freckles covering his shoulders. “You inside me. You have no idea how much I’ve thought about it.” He had no idea that you had spent the last couple of months imagining his naked body hovering over yours, and his fingers glistening with your wetness, and his dick buried deep inside you, in so much detail and with so much dedication. And so, believing that you deserved to claim the final prize, your hands reached for his belt. But before you could move a finger, his hands reached for the back of your bra as he said:

“I’ve thought about it too.” His fingertips toyed with the clasp for a moment. “What it would be like to sleep next to you, your head on my chest and my arms around you.” He said before unclasping your bra, finally revealing your breasts to him. “What it would feel like to be inside of you.” He whispered against the newly exposed skin, his hot breath waking up your nipples and the hairs on your body, all at the same time. “Your welcoming warmth, your soft breasts bouncing up and down, and all the beautiful sounds you’d make for me.” As he took your breast in an open-mouthed kiss you let out one of those, one you had never heard yourself make before, and he used his tongue on your nipple to compliment you for it.

One of your hands worked on tousling his hair, and the fingernails on the other were buried deep in the skin of his back. Heavy breaths got mixed in with the wet sounds he was making against your nipples. You couldn’t get enough of his hands exploring your body, of him touching you, his hands slipping under your panties and kneading your asscheeks. And when you rolled your hips against the hard bulge inside his pants, he grunted and squeezed your ass even harder.

“Commander, please.” Fuck me now. “I need you now.” I’m so wet for you. “It hurts so much.”

He answered your pleas by pushing you down onto the bed and hovering over you. He then placed a kiss on your lips, a kiss that felt like an important announcement and tasted like a warning of some sort. And, as he made his way down your body, his lips left their mark everywhere they passed. When he slipped his thumbs under the sides of your underwear you lifted your hips and he easily slid your panties down the curve of your ass. When his eyes landed on the part of your body he had just unveiled, a part of you he had never seen before, they reminded you of someone trying to fight off the urge to bury their face into a rich, creamy dessert. But then, against all temptation, your underwear continued its journey down your thighs, and then past your feet, until it ended up discarded on the wooden floor of his room, exactly as you had fantasized about for so many nights. Then, he stood up and all while holding your gaze, unbuckled his belt, and pushed his tight jeans down his thighs, finally unveiling his briefs as well as the shape sculpted beneath. When you saw it, you couldn’t help but think it was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on. And not far below, hairy thighs came into view, thick with both muscle and a masculinity that made your legs open on instinct.

As you lied there, wide open, on full display for him, you felt the cold air hitting your folds, signaling you were already dripping. It wouldn’t be hard to take him in, given your current state. You felt more than ready. Or so you thought.

Because when his underwear joined your panties on the floor and you finally saw it, you realized he was all you had imagined and more. So much more. Imposing, curved, veiny down to the pink tip, which was already glistening with anticipation. He was all that, and most notably, he was thick. Very thick.

“I have low pain tolerance.” You found yourself joking, looking straight into his handsome naked form. He just chuckled as he joined you on the bed.

“I won’t hurt you.” He said with a sweet tone that contrasted his deep, husky voice. “No harm will ever come to you. Not as long as I’m here.” Was his promise as he hovered over you. “Not from me. Not from anyone else.” You nodded, something about him, probably the sincerity in his eyes or the gentleness in his voice, taking you back to that day out in the field, beyond the walls. A place and a time that now seemed so far, where despite the columns of black smoke ominously rising above the horizon, you knew you would be okay somehow. As long as you didn’t lose sight of the wings of freedom on his back.

Without looking away from your eyes, he ran his fingers through your wet slit, making you quiver. But he didn’t need to double check, you knew this was as wet, slick and ready as you would get. When he positioned himself to finally give you what you desired, you felt the need to confess something, not knowing exactly why.

“Commander, it’s been a while.” He stopped right at the moment the tip met your folds, looking at you with a hint of confusion. “I haven’t been with anyone in a while.” Virgin or not, it would mean little against someone like him, because with that size, you were sure he would feel like a first time for anyone.

He placed a soft, reassuring kiss on your lips. “I’ll be gentle, okay?” You nodded, feeling both nervous and impatient. “Do you trust me?” He waited for you to nod again before finally pushing inside you.

-

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats

[rorywritesjunk]

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. There’s 3 new characters thrown in because why not? Future Wife gets a name as well! Also, in this chapter, Buggy's an asshole and the Reader is just a bit as well. A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. I just started on the 4th chapter but I’m excited to write it out! I had fun with the original fic and decided to write the prequel to how they met. Enjoy! I also wanted to get this posted because I work the next six days in a row, and I may get some things posted but I wanted to get this chapter up soon because I may have teared up a bit writing it.

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 5

Buggy managed to find you sitting by yourself on a blanket at the lake. There were ducks coming up to you, quacking as you tossed seeds to them. It only took him an hour of asking around to find out where he might be able to find you. He didn’t even go to the shop to ask because he wasn’t keen on coming face to face with Miss Pins after she hit him with the broom the other night. He made sure his hat was perched right on his head and that his jacket was buttoned right before he marched over to you.

You heard someone approaching but only looked up when a shadow was cast over you. When you looked up and saw Buggy, you couldn’t help but smile. How he managed to find you, you weren’t sure, but there also weren’t that many places in town with ducks so it shouldn’t have been too hard. You scooted over on the blanket and patted a spot beside you for him to sit.

“I thought ducks were boring.” You said as he sat down. He tensed up when you said that, looking away as he said nothing in return. “There isn’t anything more exciting for you to be doing, Buggy?”

“I… yes, there is, always.” He grumbled. “I’m a pirate after all. There’s always something exciting to be done.”

“But you came to sit with me while I fed the ducks.” You pointed out. He looked back at you, glaring as you dipped an apple slice into peanut butter and held it out to him. “Snack?”

He grumbled and took it from you, shoving it into his mouth before he replied. “I wanted to… wish you a happy birthday, but I didn’t get you anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” You handed him a napkin but he didn’t take it. “I mean, I like that we seem to be becoming friends, but you didn’t have to come wish me happy birthday or get me a gift. I know you’re busy but don’t go out of your way for this.”

“I-I can do whatever I want!” He sputtered, staring at you in disbelief. How could you be telling him what not to do? He could do whatever he wanted, and if he wanted to wish you a happy birthday while you fed the damn ducks then he would. “I don’t have to answer to anyone, and, and I don’t-”

You cut him off by pushing an apple slice against his lips. His cheeks flushed and he glared at you, but he took it out of your hand before shoving it into his mouth like the other piece. 

“Well, thank you, Buggy. I appreciate it.” You smiled at him as you looked back at the ducks. Several of the mamas were quacking at you, wanting food, while one of the ducklings pulled at your skirt. You tossed more seeds out to them and looked back at the pirate. “Miss Pins doesn’t want you coming around the shop anymore.”

“She can’t turn my business away!” Buggy exclaimed. “I’m a well paying customer!”

“She’s convinced you’re lovesick and will steal me away.” You chuckled. “This morning she warned me again about seeing you because she doesn’t want you to steal me from her.”

Buggy crossed his arms and looked away again. “Well, can’t you make your own decisions? You’re an adult. She can’t tell you what you can and can’t do.”

“Are you planning on stealing me away then?” You asked as you tossed more seeds for the ducks. Buggy refused to look at you. “Buggy-”

“How can I when I still don’t know your name?” He shot back. “You never told me.”

“Miss Pins said it in front of you.” You told him with a shrug. “At least once.”

“Once isn’t enough to remember!” He snapped. “Not to mention I rarely see you, so how can you expect me to remember something stupid like your name?!”

And as soon as he said that he realized he should have shut up. He didn’t like the way you were looking at him just then, no traces of a smile or that look you had in your eyes when you talked with him, of warmth and kindness. Instead there was disappointment, maybe even hurt, and before he knew it you were gathering your things into a basket. 

“I need to get back to the shop.”

“It’s your birthday, you said you had a few days free.” Buggy replied as he stood up. “Let’s go do something, I’ll take you on my ship and, and we can go do whatever you want!”

“No, I need to get back to the shop.” You told him as you gathered your blanket into your arms. You weren’t looking at him and he hated that, he didn’t want you to look away from him. 

“We should do something!” Buggy insisted as he reached for your arm, but you jerked away and glared at him. He stopped moving in that moment, horrified to see tears in your eyes. Did he cause that? Did his stupid behavior lead to this? 

“No.” You said as you brushed past him. “And Miss Pins doesn’t want you coming by the shop anymore, Captain, so please don’t come around.”

He stood and watched you leave. He fucked up, didn’t he? One of the only people to be kind to him and he managed to ruin it by being an ass. He wasn’t lovesick, he just wanted a friend, but the way his heart was feeling right then as he watched you walk away was different from how his friendship with Shanks ended. His heart hurt and felt heavy, like it was sinking into his stomach and weighing him down. You didn’t even say his name, just called him Captain before walking off. He didn’t follow after you, his legs wouldn’t work, but he wanted to. He wanted to call you back to him, make a stupid joke to get you to laugh and smile. He didn’t like seeing tears in your eyes because of him, but maybe he should stay away if he was just going to upset you. 

He was an idiot. 

A duck quacked at him before it nipped at his ankle, startling him. No, he decided he wouldn’t stay away. Yea, he was an idiot, but he liked being around you. Buggy scowled and crossed his arms. He didn’t want to lose you.

~

You didn’t speak to Miss Pins or the girls as you went up the stairs and to your room. It was nice being the oldest as you were given your own room, you didn’t have to share like the younger two did. You shut the door and set your things down before falling face first onto your bed, hiding your face in the blankets as you sighed heavily. 

Buggy was rude from time to time, but that was the first time he was mean to you. Why did he have to react like that? You were sure it wasn’t intentional but it still hurt. And it hurt enough that you weren’t sure you wanted to see him again, but it made you wonder why he was so insistent on seeing you in the first place. Did he want to be friends with you, or was Miss Pins right, he wanted to steal you away from here? You weren’t sure about that part. While you were nearing the end of your apprenticeship with her, you hoped to stick around a bit longer to help her out. 

You rubbed your eyes and sighed. This wasn’t how you wanted your birthday to go. You only wanted to relax and watch the ducks but he had to come along and ruin it. Maybe you could do something tomorrow to make up for it, but you didn’t want to risk the chance of running into Buggy. 

Maybe you’d just hide in your room for a while.

~

It was five weeks before you saw Buggy again. 

Every time the door opened to the shop you’d look up, hoping it was him, only to be disappointed that it was someone else each time. He wasn’t coming back even though you still had two pairs of socks for him. Maybe he decided to listen to you when you told him Miss Pins didn’t want him coming around anymore. 

The girls left the apprenticeship, deciding they didn’t want to deal with pirates anymore. Miss Pins had been out of the shop and you were in charge when a big and very threatening pirate came along, scaring the girls into quitting, so it had just been you and Miss Pins taking on all the customers and tasks for a few weeks until the new apprentice showed up and honestly, you were relieved. 

Benji was only 13 but he was happy to fight any pirates that came along being rude to either you or Miss Pins. Honestly, it was kind of adorable but you made sure not to say that to him. He quickly became fiercely protective of the two of you and it became apparent when the shop door opened one afternoon and Benji was met with a scowl. He glared back at the pirate and crossed his arms.

“What?” 

The pirate made a face when he saw him. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” Benji shot back. 

“I’m Captain Buggy!”

“Oh, you’re that pirate.” Benji moved around the counter and crossed his arms as he glared up at him. “Miss Pins doesn’t want your business so you can leave.” 

“I don’t care what she says and I’m not here for her anyways!” Buggy snapped. “I’m… I’m here for…”

“Benji, what’s going on?” You sighed as you stepped out of the back. While you appreciated the protective nature, you hated how he talked to customers. You were working with him on that. When you saw Buggy you stopped in your tracks. Benji turned around to look at you.

“I’m just chasing this good for nothin’ pirate off, Sunny.” He said with a grin. “So no worries, okay? I got this.”

Buggy resisted pushing the kid away. He wanted to make amends with you, not make it worse. He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. “I’m here to see Sunny, not the old lady, kid.”

Benji looked back at him. “No, you’re not welcome here. Boss’s orders.”

“Miss Pins isn’t in right now.” You reminded him. “So it means I’m in charge.”

Benji narrowed his eyes at Buggy before looking back at you. “Do you want him in here then?”

That was a fair question and you weren’t sure how to answer it. Part of you wanted him to stay around and talk about what happened on your birthday, but the other part of you was still hurt. He said your name just now but you knew it was because Benji just said it; Buggy didn’t know your name until now. Was it fair to be upset at him for this? When Miss Pins said your name that day, he had just hit his head and been insulted all in the same five minutes, but he thought it was stupid and that had hurt when he said it.

“Boss?” Benji asked as Buggy pushed past him. “Do you want me to kick him out?”

Honestly, you did, but you didn’t want Benji involved in this nonsense. You crossed your arms and looked at Buggy. 

“I don’t have any services to offer you today, Captain, so please leave the shop.” You said as politely as possible, ignoring the look on his face that went from anger to confusion to heartbreak all in seconds. “I’m busy with orders.” 

You and Buggy locked eyes for a moment; you almost wanted to take your words back but he straightened up and knocked into Benji as he turned around to storm out of the shop. Fine. He wouldn’t come back if you didn’t want him around.

Benji followed after him and shut the door before looking back at you, giving you a thumbs up. “Good job, boss! I’ll let Miss Pins know you got rid of him quickly.”

“Thanks.” You smiled sadly as you headed to the backroom to finish your tasks. Your heart was hurting from that interaction and you wondered if you went too far.

[htchnr]

ミ★ romanticised life ꜜ ASH WILLIAMS.

𖦹 masterlist. 𖦹 buy me a coffee!

「 ꜜsummary,, Ash has always been enamoured by your painted nails, it's not a secret to anyone. during a late night smoke you reveal why you often paint your nails a specific color. 」

「 ꜜcontent,, older!Ash ⋆ smoking ⋆ you and Ash are both high AF ⋆ innuendos ⋆ it's Ash, come on ⋆ making out ⋆ age gap ⋆ Ash is in his 40s reader in her late 20s/early 30s ⋆ not beta'd we die like season 4 ⋆ i may or may not have been drunk while writing this. ꜜwc,, 1,3k. 」

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

you lay there, head lolling against his shoulder. yours legs are draped across his lap, his large warm hand firmly holding onto your thigh to keep you in place — pff, as if you'd ever want to move from this position.

your eyes droop from moment to moment as you paint your nails, contact high from Ash's third joint, the smoke swirling thick throughout the trailer. you never minded though, happy to just lay there against him.

Ash is enamoured with the sight, how precisely you start off, then the strokes slowly get sloppier the higher you get. he'd start to say something about it, but you'd say something along the lines of 'when it's dry you can just wash the excess off with warm water' and he'd keep quiet.

he doesn't comment on it to make fun of you, hell no. he's curious, always used to your nails perfectly done — always with a nice color and occasionally with a cute pattern. he loved anything you put on your nails.

right now, you were to high to bother with a pattern or little embellishments, just sticking to the nice burgundy polish you loved so much. it looked good against Ash's blue shirt.

his fingers would periodically grip and ungrip against the plush skin of your bare thigh, kneading the hot skin as he watched you.

he exhaled deeply, smoke bellowing from between his thin lips. " 's that y'er favorite color? " he nods to the burgundy polish bottle that's squished between your knees as to hold it without occupying your hands.

your eyes slowly blink, finishing up the last stroke on your thumb nail. you hum, sticking the brush back in the bottle and twisting it shut. you lean back, your back pressed against the couch as you stretch to put the bottle on the side table.

you huff as you move back to your previous position, tucked into his side with your head lolling against his shoulder as your polish dries. you're especially glad you always go with quick drying polish, as you just want it to dry and not worry about it smudging as you settle against Ash.

" y'know why i like it so much? " your words dragged out. you look up at him through your lashes.

he doesn't think you've ever looked more beautiful, messy hair, wearing just a loose shirt and your underwear, looking up at him with those glazey eyes. he thinks he might just fall in love all over again if you don't stop looking at him like he hung the stars for you.

" Ash? " your voice snaps him out of his thoughts, blinking as his eyes meet yours. you give him a dopey smile as you chuckle. " i think we should put a pause to this, " you smile, and before he knows it his joint is between your fingers instead of his.

" hey! " he laughs, leaning to take it from you. you beat him by placing the filter between your lips, taking a long drag from it, before laying down as you exhale in a long sigh. the joint now farther away from him.

he leans with you, adjusting as he hovers above you. your legs trapped between his knees as he looks down at you with those lovesick brown eyes. " if you think i should pause, no way-hosé do you get to pick it up dollface, "

his hand coming up to hold your face. your eyes are slow, your whole face moving in slow motion as you laugh. " don't you want an answer to your question, loverboy? "

he grins, " 'course i do, " his hand trailing down your face and past your shoulders, slowly sliding down your waist as his eyes follow his hand.

his eyes return to your hand with his joint when you move to take another drag, throwing your free arm around his neck to bring him in closer as you inhale the smoke. his eyes are focused on your lips as you lean in, pressing them against his as you let the smoke flow between his lips.

he eagerly inhales, exhaling the smoke before hungrily pressing his lips against yours. he reluctantly pulls away after a few seconds, eyes meeting yours once more. " so sugar lips, why is it your favorite color? " he presses a few stray kisses to your cheeks and jaw.

you breathe against him, your inebriated body moving in sync with his underneath him. he pulls away, those sweet brown eyes searching your face.

you press a hand against his blue shirt, glancing at your nails. " 'cause this color looks so nice against your shirt. " you whisper, taking one last hit from the joint before twisting and leaning back to smother the butt of it in the ashtray.

Ash blinks, eyes trailing down to your hand on his shirt. huh, they did look really good together. he leans down, pressing hungry kisses against the exposed skin of your throat.

" i can think of a few other places they'd look very, very pretty, " he mumbles against your skin, revelling in the sensation of your nails scratching at his scalp as his lips continue his assault on your skin.

[fernandopiastri28]

please update quand c’est on ao3/on here, I’m obsessed I read it all in one sitting😭

quand c’est - part 7 ~ ln4 x op81

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

For Lando, for someone who has such a self hating and destructive mind- Oscar is his sanctuary. The only place he truly feels safe and at peace with the world. In an ideal world, it would just be him and Oscar. He’d be content like that.

Warnings: sickness, illness, cancer

Oscar helps him to get dressed on his day of dispatch from the hospital. They haven’t started chemo yet, waiting to see how the surgery goes before they decide whether or not he needs it. On the bright side, it means that he still has his precious curls. 

He pulls on a beanie anyways, then takes it off, stuffing it into his bag. He has no use for a beanie in Singapore- what was he thinking?

Lando uses Oscar’s shoulders to stabilise himself as the aussie helps him into a pair of grey sweatpants, smirking as he ties the knot on them. “Good look on you,” Oscar murmurs, coyly looking up at Lando from where his head is slightly tilted down.

“Dirty dog trying to get me hard in my hospital room,” Lando grins, watching the crinkles of Oscar’s smile lines deepen.

“Ah ah ah, ex hospital room,” Oscar corrects him annoyingly, waggling his finger. Lando rolls his eyes, yanking his shirt away from Oscar and putting it on himself, smug that he’s able to do it all on his own.

Yet immediately after, he just feels useless- being proud of putting on a shirt without help? He could do that when he was 5, that’s not impressive for a 24 year old- it’s just embarrassing. 

“Lando,” Oscar rests his forehead against the brit’s. Lando’s never been one to be able to mask his emotions- so it’s pretty clear that he’s down in the dumps and more than usual. “Talk to me,”

Lando sucks his cheeks in and looks up at Oscar. “Don’t wanna,” He looks off to the side, pulling down on the hem of his shirt. He feels disgustingly raw and tender, susceptible to even more damage. “I don’t want to talk about it,” He rephrases.

Oscar doesn’t budge, giving him stupid puppy dog eyes as a way to convince him, “Is it about the shirt?” Lando weakly shrugs, “Putting it on yourself?” He nods, looking at Oscar for only a fleeting second, before looking back at his unmade hospital bed. 

“Partially,” Lando chews his bottom lip, scratching his elbow. “It’s just- it’s feeling real, isn’t it?” The cancer, the tumour, the surgery, the commitment.

God, the commitment- Lando hadn’t even had time to think about that. Not only is he gonna have to spend weeks in recovery and rehab- fucking Oscar is going to have to take care of him and ‘manage’ him.

Lando doesn’t want that for Oscar, he wants Oscar to be a free man who doesn’t have to care for his boyfriend like a child, he wants Oscar to race.

“It is very real,” Oscar agrees, slipping on his backpack. He looks awfully young, kinda like a little kid ready for their first day of school. Oscar is young, and so is Lando. Maybe that’s the most difficult part of all of this- it’s happening so early in his life.

Lando hasn’t even really lived yet. A single race win, just under 20 podiums, almost 6 years in F1, not a single world championship- only 24 years old.

And he’s not ready- he’s not ready to be sick, to have a life threatening illness, to undergo surgery.

But even less than all of that- he’s not ready to die.

So he picks up his bag, holds Oscar’s hand and squeezes it with the reassurance of ‘I’ll be okay’

He’ll fake it till he makes it.

The two of them walk out of the hospital, and they make it only a few metres before they have a few people shoving cameras, phones, and hats in their faces- fans begging for attention. Lando boils with rage- the disrespect that people show them- acting like they’re fucking animals animals in a zoo. 

He pushes past them, while Oscar gives a weak smile to a few photos, trying to keep the piece. “I’m not signing,” Lando grunts, pushing away the arm of a man who looks double his age, shoving a Daniel Ricciardo McLaren shirt in his face.

The man heckles him, calling him rude for ‘not wanting to interact with fans’. Lando opens his mouth, ready to spit defences for himself and insults towards the man before Oscar yanks him away, pulling him into their awaiting car. 

They’re lucky that the car has near completely pitch black tinted windows as Lando collapses into Oscar, his head in the Australian's lap as he just sobs. “Oscar,” His voice breaks, his body just so exhausted. He’s so tired, all the time. He can hardly talk, hardly think, hardly be himself. “I- I can’t do this,”

He can’t feel like this. Lando has a reputation to uphold, he prides himself on the fact that he tries to make each and every one of his fans feel cherished and special, not like he ignores them when it doesn’t suit them. To the outside world, he’s still normal Lando, he’s still healthy Lando.

He can’t act like this out and public, he can’t let people know he’s not well.

Oscar taps their driver on the shoulder, telling him to just drive as he begins to adjust Lando- making sure he’s strapped in with his seatbelt as Lando getting injured in the possibility they crash is the last thing either of them need. When Lando’s safely in his seat, Oscar curls up into Lando, stroking his curls and kissing his head. “I’ll take care of you, baby,” He whispers against Lando’s skin.

For Lando, for someone who has such a self hating and destructive mind- Oscar is his sanctuary. The only place he truly feels safe and at peace with the world. In an ideal world, it would just be him and Oscar. He’d be content like that.

“I love you Osc, I- I don’t say it enough,” He blabbers, his words spilling out of his mouth without an end. Part of him wants to confess all the things he has always been too scared to do out of fear of rejection or judgement because there’s a nagging worry deep inside him that is telling him he’s gonna die- that the surgery is going to kill him and he’s going to die with so many unsaid thoughts and confessions.

“You say it enough,” Oscar comforts him, holding onto Lando like he’s scared the older man is going to wither away in his arms. “You do, Lans, you make me feel so loved,”

“No I don’t,” His voice comes out as a croak, his throat burning and aching from swallowing back sobs. “You have no idea how much I love yo- you’re my whole world, you’re my everything , Osco,” He can;t see it, but he knows Oscar’s smiling at that- at the nickname. It’s a sad smile though, like he knows why Lando’s confessing.

Like he knows Lando fears dying too soon.

“I love you, Lano,” He giggles, a teary one. “You’re gonna be okay, I know it- you’ve always been okay,” But Lando’s always been well enough , he’s never had something as serious as cancer. “You’re a fucking F1 driver, mate, you’re gonna beat this shit,”

It’s weirdly funny to him- he’s an F1 driver who races against the fear of death every single day, with each time he steps into that car, he has to prepare to not exit it- yet the thing that’ll most likely kill him is a mass in his brain.

He stores that thought in his mind for later, deciding to allow himself to switch off for just a bit. He wants to be numb, be putty in Oscar’s hands. “You’re right, you muppet,” He grins, the tears on his cheeks dribbling down further. For once, they both smile genuinely, and there’s hope.

Maybe not hope for recovery, but hope for Lando that Oscar won’t up and leave when it gets hard.

The remainder of the trip to get on the plane goes by in a blur. Lando’s bundled up in a huge jacket, sunglasses, a beanie, and a disposable blue medical face mask to avoid any awkward confrontation  that could send him into another spiral. Oscar does something similar, but luckily being relatively new to the sport has his perks and he goes undetected with just a face mask from his time at prema and his hood up over his head.

They sit next to each other on the plane, neither of them watching or listening to anything for the whole flight because it’s painfully overwhelming and overstimulating to Lando, and Oscar wants to keep himself level with lando. If Lando does something, Oscar does the same.

They do hold hands though, and it feels all really good. 

Mark met them at the airport, so now he’s sitting across from them on the private jet, giving the couple about as much privacy as they get from the drive to survive film crew. He’s tapping away at something on his ipad, and Oscar dramatically mocks the older man to Lando, wiggling his eyebrows and opening and shutting his mouth like a gaping goldfish- mouthing a bunch of random teases.

Lando laughs, so fond of the Australian. He officially can take the statement he made during the lie detector test back; Oscar is a funny teammate. He’s a funny boyfriend, he’s a perfect boyfriend, he’s a perfect boy- he’s perfect.

They make a little game out of trying to kiss as much as they can without getting a reaction out of Mark, and they’re successful for a bit, alternating between pecks and deeper kisses, stifling laughs each time they pull apart and their eyes dart to where Mark is truly invested in whatever is going on his screen.

It's a solid 15 minutes into their little game when Mark, without looking up, finally speaks, “I can clearly see you two kissing- I just chose not to say anything,” He announces, confirming that he did know what they were trying to do. 

The two boys turn slightly red, looking at eachother with huge grins. Once again, feeling like teenagers being caught. It’s nice though, kissing without consequence. Mark is also a part of the small group of people who know about their relationship- basically being Oscar’s second dad and all, so they’re really allowed to do whatever. 

Whatever in reason , that is.

So, when Mark falls asleep, Lando gives Oscar a slight nudge in the arm. He’s feeling good, having recently taken some of his strong medication that is the only non-drowsy one. It was a calculated decision- he had plans.

Or, he has plans. Plans involving Oscar and the plane bathroom.

Fuck yeah. Fuck being sick, Lando's gonna make the most of his final days before surgery and join the infamous mile high club.