#I will be releasing a new chapter this week so no worries

[brighttears]

Stranger Chapter 7

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description

Summary: At the end of the day, you show up nervous at Joel’s door, and he welcomes you with open arms, then holds you in them. Sleeping with you in his bed is beautiful, and it's innocent, until it’s not. Things between you shift, and he finds a new title for you—his lover. 

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings: About half of this is smut, size kink, a tiny bit of thigh riding, praise, a little rough, creampie, light christian themes here and there (fucking you is heavenly), pet names (honey, baby, sweet girl, darling)

A/n: the smut has commenced!!!! unavoidably more to come <3 sorry it took so long to post, i had a bunch already written when i started releasing this but no more is prewritten. i literally have like one day a week that i can actually just write and really have to squeeze it in otherwise, might start to get busier unfortunately :( but I don't want to let this thing die with a whimper and am starting on the next chapter now! much love to u all 🫶

series masterlist

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Sharing a table over grilled cheese and tomato soup, your discomfort seems to wane a bit, and soon enough the air is almost light—just three old friends kicking it again, and Joel begins to hope that Jackson lasts a lot longer than the time limit he had initially come up with. 

After the meal, you part ways, having your own responsibilities around Jackson, and Joel goes on a tour of the commune followed by a shopping spree conducted by his brother. In the late afternoon, he’s left to his own devices, and basks in a burning hot shower, fresh clothes, and doing what he can to fix that nail hole in his wall, before the three of you join back for dinner. Tonight is your shift on patrol, so the brothers share a short drink alone at the bar, opting to keep the conversation relatively easy, before Joel retires back at his house. Though he’s tired from the full, yet comparably uneventful day, Joel still finds himself restless in the big, empty house. 

By the time the stars have shown, he’s still wide awake in bed, when his ears perk at slow, crunching footsteps outside, and gets up to peer out of his window. Below, he spots you, looking weary as you trail your way up to your house. Despite your clear exhaustion, seeing you coming back unharmed from patrol pulls a relieved sigh out of him. 

He considers heading outside, checking in, seeing if you need anything… he can’t help but be worried, even if there isn't a trail of blood behind you. Maybe a bit lonely, too. The last time the two of you were in the same vicinity, you were basically tired at the hip, so it feels almost unnatural to not be now that you have the option. And, the feeling of having you curled against his side won’t let go of him. But, he can’t screw this up. He doesn’t want to smother you, make you feel like he’s trying to coddle you, like he thinks you can’t handle patrol when he knows you can, that you have been. So, he keeps his head, fingers twitching and tapping on the window frame as he watches you step up to your door and unlock it with a faint jangling of keys. 

As you cross the threshold and disappear into your house, he sighs, staring for only a moment longer before giving up, shuffling back to bed and flopping down onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling. Still, he can’t help but keep himself awake, just in case…

Within about twenty minutes, he hears a knock at the door, and his heart rate spikes. It’s gotta be you. Anxiety starts to rise in his chest, and he sits up quickly, hurrying downstairs. Pulling the door open, he’s met with you, relief blooming in his chest, though still thorned with worry as his eyes instinctually search for any sign of injury, and immediately notice your tense demeanor. 

“Hey, Joel,” you greet him, breaths puff of white air in the biting air, shifting on your feet, and crossing your arms, eyes darting between him and the snow dusted wood at your feet. “Hey.” He replies, brow pinching as he regards your state. 

“Um,” you start with a nervous sigh, eyes now glued to your shoes. “I, um, I was just—I wanted to, to see if, um well, if—if—” Bashfully, you glance at him again, and he can see your lips struggle as you try to find your words, and his heart aches at it. A wave of concern, along with personal anxieties, washes through him, already starting to become overrun with a thousand potential reasons you could be acting like this, fears and doubts of all kinds, and he wants to push, ask what’s going on, tell you to stop being so nervous around him, but then Tommy’s words ring in his head: ‘be patient… wait for her to come to you…’ So, he waits, keeping his expression mild. 

“Um,” you try again, scratching your head, trying to force eye contact, “well it’s just that it felt, weird, with you here—I mean, no, I was just—well, patrol was—I just—I was wondering, i-if I could, um, if you just, maybe, I mean,” you let out a huff in clear frustration at your own floundering, before finally spitting it out. “I just wanted to see if I could, stay with you, tonight, I just…”

Joel’s heart leaps and flutters, shifting in the doorframe. 

“Yeah, of course.” He answers quickly, because, of course, because there’s nothing more he wants. 

Finally, you meet his gaze, letting out a heavy, relieved sigh. 

Though he wishes you would have just waltzed right in, not even having to question if he’d allow it, want it, his heart feels lighter at your exhale, and he gives you a small nod, stepping aside to open the door. “C’mon.” He mumbles, “Get outta the cold.”

You duck your head as you come inside, shoulders still slightly hunched in remaining nerves he’d like to reach out and skim off of you as you unzip your coat. Joel wants to just wrap you up in his arms, soothe you, keep you warm, melt that unease, like he’s supposed to. 

“You alright?” He asks automatically, eyes flicking over you. He can’t help but wonder about what’s left unspoken, you wanting to stay with him tonight, sleep next to him in his bed, be close to him in such a vulnerable way again.

“Mhm.” You reply, nodding as you shrug off your coat, and he watches as you turn to hang it up on the peg, right next to his. “I just um,” you begin to explain, sounding almost small again. “I guess… I’m just, used to sleeping in the same room as you, when you're around, you know? And I… you know, it just felt weird, and I guess I just… missed you…” 

“Yeah.” Joel nods, voice soft and quiet. “Yeah, I get it.” It’s touching, knowing you want him, want to be near him, with him, and because you missed him, too. You’re still connected. He’d been laying awake, because he knew you were going to knock on his door. Because you still don’t know how to be apart from each other. Because there’s still some magnet, you could never let go of each other, you still can’t. A house away is too far. 

You nod back, still visibly relieved, before bending to untie your boots. You look so exposed, small and precious, and he wants you tucked under his blankets, wants to watch you fall asleep, hear your breaths slow and even, see how your lashes rest over your cheeks again. Wants to see you relaxed like that again. He wants to fall asleep next to you, and not worry about it. Know that he’ll wake up and everything will be okay, you’ll be there, still tucked in, warm, and safe, and with him. 

“I—Did I wake you up?” You ask softly as you toe off your shoes and push them next to his. “No.” He shakes his head, “Couldn’t get any sleep yet.”

“Oh.” You nod, turning to him. “Good. I mean, not that you couldn’t sleep, just—”

Joel can’t help a soft chuckle, shifting forward a step to gently touch your arm. “It’s okay, Y/n.” He assures you in a gentle murmur. Glancing up at him, you nod, letting out a breath, and he watches you, eyes flicking to every subtle shift and twitch of your gaze. You’re still guarded, but he knows you want it off, so, after a silent beat, he offers a hand out to you, cocking his head towards the stairs with a quiet, “C’mon. Let’s go to bed.” As he turns and starts for them, he feels your hand slip loosely into his, and he holds onto your fingers to lead you behind him. 

It’s strange, a mix between deep recognition and something novel—your nervousness, being in pajamas, the clean and numbered blankets awaiting you; while this is just another added to thousands of nights he’s shared with you, every other has been not much more than a shuffle into a prayed for break from exhaustion, and this feels like some sort of event. 

Despite how sharp you’ve made yourself out to be, despite how sharp you believe you are these days, your hand has never felt this fragile in his. And last time he held it, it was connected to the arm you’d lost a bucket full of blood from. But, last time, your hand felt assured in his, you had gripped his back; now, it’s timorous. He pulls a slow breath into his lungs, urging himself to be softer with you now than he’s ever been, and to not think about the last time, not overdose on guilt, because this isn’t fucking about him. You’re nervous, you’re vulnerable, and you came to him for comfort and for warmth, and it’s late, you’re tired, and he's the one you’re looking to. So he's going to take care of you. He’s going to give you what you need, and it’s not his guilt, it’s not his sorry, you don’t want it, and the words mean nothing. You need kindness, and warmth, you need your rock. You need the comfort you’ve only ever found in him. He can do that. He is that. 

In his bedroom, Joel pulls back the covers on, murmuring gently, “Crawl in,” as he slips under them himself. As the bed shifts, the only sound the soft shuffle of blankets, Joel’s heart flutters again, perking with happiness, to have you here, with him, in the safety of night, where silences don’t fall and stretch but pool and settle, and there’s no rifle to be had ready in his hands, no dark woods to watch or pulls of exhaustion to will himself away from, and there’s no crucial conversation to be had, nothing to think to say—he can just lay here, with you curled up next to him, and look at you, looking at him, with your nose tucked under the blankets.

“Feel better now?” He whispers, gentle and affectionate. You nod. The silence stays for a moment, before you whisper, “Do you remember that night, Ohio, in the winter?” 

He hums. “Yeah. Can’t forget it.” 

2015, the first coldsnap of the year—ruthless, the kind of air that hurts, wind so hard in your face it’s hard to breath, and the snowflakes were fat and just wouldn’t stop fucking falling. It was the dead of night when you finally stumbled on the farm, the only structure within miles; you’d had to just keep walking until you found something, you’d die if you didn’t, but even under the layers of hay that you’d buried yourselves in, exposure was a looming threat in the derelict barn. 

You were shaking like a leaf. He’d never held you before, but that night, he did, because he was so scared. And it was that night that started to realize how much you were starting to mean to him, how precious you were, how special his heart had come to hold you. He needed you to live. He needed you to be okay. There wasn’t another option.

“I don’t know how we survived that night.” You whisper. “It was so cold.”

“I know.” He whispers back. He remembers how you shook, how his muscles strained against the cold shuddering his own bones as he pulled you closer. He remembers how the fear kept him up all night. “I thought you were gonna freeze to death.” 

“Me too. Or that I’d have to crack your arms off from around me in the morning.”

Your quiet words make his heart ache, imagining the horror of waking up to the embrace of a corpse. He blinks, sighing to brush the thoughts away, because you’re here now. “Well… we both survived. We always do.” He murmurs, and you nod. 

Though tonight, it’s warm in this house, and you’re safe in Jackson, you look just as vulnerable, as raw now as you did then, and he feels a familiar tug to pull you closer. 

He shifts, tugged further, needing to feel your breathing again, feel your skin be warm, and extends his arm, gently placing it over your waist. You shift into him, nestling in against his chest, and he lets out a long sigh as he gathers you into his arms. It feels natural, the reciprocated maneuver to fit against each other, to feel you close, to keep you close. A wave of deep comfort washes over him followed by a bloom of contentment as you wrap your arms around him. 

For a moment, it’s just the two of you, nothing else. Your warmth, the feel of your form under his fingers, brushing them idly up and down your spine with the other cradling your waist, the tickle of your hair on his chin, quiet breath skimming over the skin of his neck. The air is your smell. Filled with your presence, he closes his eyes. 

After a moment, you pull him in a little closer, and he wraps his arms further around you, pulling you in until there's barely a bit of space between you at all, and in that moment, he feels you relax, warm and solidly pressed, a soft sigh leaving your lips. 

Safe. Soothed. Protected. 

“You warm?” He whispers after a moment. 

“Yeah.” You mumble back, and he can feel the smile pulling your cheek against his chest. “Are you?”

He hums, mumbling into your hair, “I dunno, I think I could use a blanket.”

Your chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Want me to go get you one?”

He huffs, smiling wide and whispering back, “No, I think you’ll do.” You chuckle again, and warmth spreads through every part of him. “Stay.” He whispers, muffled in your hair, “stay right here.”

“Okay.” You whisper back. 

Okay. That quiet sound. 

You sound happy. 

Okay.

The sound of the smile in that word waltzes through his brain, slow, cast in faint moonlight, lulling his breaths to slow, the gentle rhythm of your breaths, chest gently expanding and relaxing under his arms relaxing his weight, the faint beat of your heart against his chest like a soundless lullaby, easing him into a dreamless sleep. 

He doesn't wake, doesn’t stir once, and in the morning, when the light streaming in from the windows makes its way past his eyelids, he finds that you haven’t moved at all, all night. Your arm is still draped over his side, the other still fitted between your chests, hand curled around the curve of his neck to rest in the hair on the nape of it. You’re the perfect mold against his body, under his arms, his hands. 

Warm. Safe. Protected. Sound in your sleep. Everything is okay. 

It’s perfect. Every bit of it.

You asked for this, requested to sleep in his bed with him, wanted for his closeness and went to him, to feel him in the night. You remembered that first time he held you, when you needed it most. He hadn’t thought about it that way—that maybe you needed him last night. And he was there. 

And he was there. 

As the thought hits him, he feels his heart flutter and skip, and he lets out an inadvertent, deep sigh. At that slight movement, he notices your eyes shift under the lids before they flutter, stirring from sleep. Watching the moment, Joel tries desperately to commit it to memory, the way you look tucked so tightly in his arms, etch the feeling of your unconscious clinging into his mind, the way your face is still so relaxed, so utterly at peace in his embrace. And in that moment, he feels himself fall just a little bit harder for you. 

Your eyes crack open, just barely, and he watches you register the sight of him, a lazy hand brushing up his back. It’s a sight for sore eyes, you in the morning. The sun filtering through the curtains brings out the color of your eyes, strings of hair highlighted in its light. He could count your eyelashes this close. He soaks it up, with your fingers brushing over the curve of his spine, the faint shuffle of blankets the only sound in the room. It’s so peaceful, so simple, so domestic. A small, gentle smile brings itself to his lips, and he watches you watch it, eyes still sleepy, only half open, and then you bring your hand out from between your chests to trace a lazy finger over the corner of it. He melts, physically feels his insides turn to mush, smile pulling further. 

This is the first glimpse he’s gotten to that gentle side of you you used to wear on your sleeve around him. It feels like pulling the curtain back, like there’s not a wall left between you, and it's so soft, and god he loves you, god, he adores you, and god does he want to kiss the fingertips dancing right in the corner of his lips, god does he want to kiss you, after all this time, all the times, he wants to know, wants to know how it would feel.

For a moment, your eyes trail up to his, before they return to his lips, tapping them lightly, almost absently. 

He’s a mess. You were always so soft when you were sleepy, and it always made him weak. Right now, he’s completely lost in it, spellbound, and the whispered words slip right now. 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

Your eyes move to his again, and he can almost see them register, and as they do, your fingers leave his lips to instead slip over his jaw, but before he can think about it, your eyes are fluttering shut and your leaning in, and then he can’t breathe, because you kiss him. 

He lets out a nearly stuttered sigh, body reacting immediately, hand splaying over your back, leaning his lips back against yours as his brain explodes into a kaleidoscope of butterflies. It’s soft, and gentle, he can feel the slight chap of your lips, and he’s never had that feeling he’s heard of in movies and from luckier friends back in the day, about how it just feels right, how it’s natural, effortless, like a gentle current, but at the same time, he’s lightheaded and the swarm is only growing bigger. He could drown in it, the sensation of you so close, the sound of the breathes leaving your nose and a quiet smack as your lips dance, and he can’t stand the thought of it ending, not yet, not yet, so he slowly, tenderly, tilts his head to press a little closer, sliding his hand to cradle your jaw, trading the other to hold your back, keeping you close. Just a little while longer, and a little while longer, to soak up the gentle embrace, he can’t stand to part, but then he gets a real taste of your spit, and he knows he needs to pull back, just for a moment, because he feels a switch flip in his brain at it. 

He parts only a couple inches, letting out a quiet breath as his eyes flutter open again.

Very quietly, you whisper, “Was that okay?” You sound so small, and there's another beating of velveteen wings, and he replies, low and gentle, sweeping his thumb over your cheek, “Yeah, honey. You can kiss me whenever you want, darlin’. I’m not gonna complain.” 

He’s used terms like that very sparingly—it always felt wrong, either condescending or just too far over the made up line, too close for comfort, but he feels out of his wits in a way, floundering under these new circumstances. He doesn't know where the ground is, but apparently neither do you, and after only a beat, you kiss him again, and he feels his brow pinch, and he wants it and he has it, and it’s so warm, and when he pulls you in you shift right into his arms, as if you’d done this a thousand and one times, and he wants it again and again and again. He drinks it in, the warmth, the softness, the feeling of your torso in his hands. He’s selfish, he’s greedy, he’s needy. With each small break before going right back in for another, he thinks, wait, because he wasn’t done, he needs more, more to hold onto, as if every slight repositioning of lips is a chance for you to slip away into dream world and he’ll wake up and see you again, and wonder all over again what your lips feel like. 

As the moment goes on, his heart only beats faster, need slowly overcoming him, his hands moving over more of the expanse of you, your sides, your neck, your jaw, with your touch on his face, in his hair, his shoulders, arms, back, and he wants it, wants to be enveloped in it, he wants you to touch him and kiss him until he can’t think, until he’s incapacitated and all he can sense is you, like this, in this moment, in the morning, where nothing else exists. Not his wrongs, not the pain, not time, not memories, just the feeling of you, the taste of you, the sound of you as a soft breath leaves your lips—a small, quiet moan. 

The sound surges him, arm automatically snaking around your waist, his fingers weaving into your hair, holding the world in his hands with your legs tangling themselves with his, hooking your ankle around his calf to pull his thigh between yours—god you’re somehow still being so soft and gentle and it’s starting to feel like his brain is melting, all he is is nerves and the feeling of you. And then you squeeze him, kissing him a little harder, a little messier, and there’s something so vulnerable about it, so needy but loving. God he wants you. He wants you he wants you he wants you. He wants you to have him, just let you have him, do what you please, he wants to please you, feeling the affection and desire wash over him like being pulled under the tide as his hands slide over your body, feeling the way your ribs meet your waist, your jaw to your neck, your shoulder blades, learning these things he’s never quite gotten the chance to before. The taste of your spit. The taste of your skin as he presses his lips along your jaw, slow, tender, making his way down to your neck, and then there’s that sound again, a little more breathless, and he pulls in your scent through his nose, shifting until he’s almost on top of you. 

He wants you to know how much he wants you, how his pulse quickens, how his body heats up, how much he loves you, needs you, wants to show you, show you just what you mean to him. He kisses your skin softly, lips lingering as they press over the muscles of your throat. Another soft sound, just a breath of a moan, falls out of you again, and he squeezes his eyes shut. Every press, every movement, he wants you to feel the affection, the care he puts into it, like he could have you absorb all these things he doesn’t have the words for. With his lips on the underside of your jawline, you shift closer, a silent request, the way you pull and push, and he needs to give you the closeness you’re asking for, show you he’ll give you anything—he wants to, he’ll give himself to you willingly. He loves you desperately, wants you to take him, hold his heart in your hands, ride his cock like it’s a fucking toy until you cum, and then cum again, until he’s got nothing left, and then take more. It’s all for you. 

He lets his lips part, pressing his tongue right between your ear and the corner of your jaw, just close enough to whisper something, but the words escape him as you let out a near whimper, and he knows the message is received as you move against him, pulling his leg until his thigh is right in between yours, and he feels his jaw go slack for a moment until his teeth reconnect with your skin, and, “Ah,” God. Without a second thought, he slides his thigh against you, fitting it where you need the friction, and you squeeze, and whisper, “Joel,” and his eyes nearly roll back in his head. 

He wants to make you cum, to make you tremble, whimper and whine and moan until your throat’s fucking raw, and he’ll lick it like a wound as he fucks you or fingers you or just uses his fucking leg, whatever you want. Whatever you need, whatever you want. He wants you to know how good this is, feel what you’re doing to him, like honey in his veins, swelling his cock, so he moves his hips, the bulge pressing against your stomach, and your breath hitches, and the moan is involuntary, and the rest of the world is lost to him. He hardens more just at that, from a chub to something that tents his sweatpants in about four seconds. Your warm hands slide down his sides, slipping under the hem of his shirt and starting to push it up, touch running over his skin, warm and buzzing. He’s on fire.  He wants you all over him. He wants your touch. Needs it. 

Hurriedly, he takes his hands off of you just long enough to pull his shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere, and in the time it takes for the fabric to pass over his eyes your shirt is being thrown after it, and his jaw nearly drops. 

He can’t help the way his hands press, sliding over your bare skin, he can’t help being so needy, he needs you more every second, feeling the curve of your breast, your nipple hard under his palm, the flesh of your waist under his fingers. Your arms nearly fling around him to pull him back in, meeting in a messy, heated kiss.

Every sense is lit in flames, and he slips his tongue against your lips, and you part them for him and fuck it’s so hot, feeling your tongue press back against his, your leg over his waist pulling him closer and his cock is straining as it presses against you and you moan in unison and fuck he needs to get you naked. 

It’s nice to know you’re on the same page, by the way your hands fall down to the buttons of your jeans just as the thought enters his head. He curses under his breath, keeping one arm braced beside your head, struggling with his haste to pull his sweatpants and boxers down. His legs wrestle under the sheets to use his feet to strip them off, and it’s a quick shuffle to ditch the layers before hot skin meets hot skin again, and precum is already beading at his tip by the time his length is pressed at the seam of your stomach. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper in a breath, right before smashing your mouth against his, and he moans, low and muffled, every part of him practically singing like a discorded chorus. He loves you. Adores you. Wants you. To love you like this. To dote on you. Worship you To fuck you, feel your sweet slick around his cock, feel your squeeze, make you whimper and moan and cum until you see stars. 

And fuck, you move for it first, reaching down to take him in your hand and slip him up and down your cunt until he’s right where he wants to be, but he still doesn’t move, waits for you to bring him inside, relishing in the feeling of your hand around him, the hand he knows so well on a part of him you’ve never touched before. Both of your mouths are dropped open at this point, eyes half lidded, but he takes care to watch your face as his tip finds its way between your folds, taking in the expression, a rough moan falling from his lips because you’re already so wet. 

“So wet.” He murmurs, faces so close it’s as if you’re trading breaths. “You want it, baby?” He asks, needing to hear you say it, to know that you do, and to hear how your voice comes out when you have his cock in you. “Yeah,” you reply, like an exhale as you move him deeper inside, and he exhales a moan in response, gripping the sheets in a vice, other hand a little more gentle on your waist. Slowly, so fucking slowly, he presses into you, inch by inch, feeling himself twitch with every one, your warmth pulling him in. As he bottoms out, he lets out a rough moan, and kisses you again, tongue licking into your mouth. Your touch is hard and tight as it travels over his sides, up his back, grasping at him, and he can’t help but bite your lip, more turned on than he was when he was a fucking virgin because god damn it it’s been a fucking while, and he loves you and has been pushing down how fucking horny you can get him for fucking years now, and here you are, naked, underneath him, wrapping your legs around him and moaning into his mouth. 

He tenses, crooning with the urge to fuck you like his body is disposed to, deep and hard like a fucking animal, because god damn it has been a while and you’ve gotten him wound up like a fucking toy box, but no, that’s not how he wants this to go. No. Gentle. Slow. Loving. Until you’re begging for it. 

The kiss is loud and messy and wet, one rolling into the next, but he moves his hips slowly, filling you up, relieving the pressure, then doing it again, keeping an easy pace. He’s gotta find what you like. What tempo. What pressure. Where all your sweet spots are. If you like it when he kneads your tits, pinches your nipple, presses his hand where he can feel himself through your stomach. But his hands won’t touch your throat. Won’t grab your hair. He won’t bruise you. Not even with his mouth on your neck. He can’t help but lick it though, wanting you to know just how fucking bad he wants you, long and flat, almost panting against the wet line, feeling like a fucking animal but still enough of himself to keep it fucking slow. Angels sing in his ears in your moans, breathy and soft, and yes, you can leave all the marks you want on him, drag your nails, squeeze him until he’s bruised if you’re so inclined. All he wants is you. Whatever you want to do, whatever you do. 

He kisses the corner of your mouth, your chin, your jaw, his knees planted in the mattress so that he can slide his hands along your sides, hold your body in his hands, know what the weight of every bit of his desire feels like, know what the clouds in heaven feel like under his fingers. He wants to know what the waters up there feel like up there, so he reaches a hand down, digits swirling your clit, and they’re warm and drooling, and the sound of the pearly gates opening are in the moan that almost trills from your throat. His mouth falls down to your skin again, tasting what the gods eat with his lips on your collarbone. Heaven is filling you up, thumb on his base, feeling every inch sliding in and out with his index and middle playing with you, testing out spots and rhythms to make you sing. 

He wants to make you feel good, so fucking good, with his fingers and his mouth and his dick. Wants you to feel loved by him, taken care of by him. Desired and needed, but cherished. Gentle, until you ask for more, if you want it. He can fuck you slow, too, grip the reins to keep himself under control. Still, the sounds that come out of him are desperate hums that are almost groans as your nails scrape down his back, leaving the muscles underneath them humming in their wake. With his lips mouthing along your shoulder, he hears your head hit the pillow, he hears the whimper. 

Electrified, he husks, hot against your skin, “That feel good?” 

“Yes.” He hums, deep and low, pressing soft kisses up the side of your neck until they reach your ear, “You like how I fill you up?” Though he keeps it measured, he presses a little deeper, almost just to show you what he can do, and it pushes another soft moan out of you. “Yes.” 

Perfect, so fucking perfect for him, like a sheath, so slick and easy to fit into. “You like how this dick feels?” Tying your ankles around his back, urging him in deep again, you moan, “Yes,” 

“Fuck,” He swears under his breath, sliding his palm back up your side, drinking up the way every touch makes your breath change. He stops at your chest, slowly enclosing your breast with his hand with his fingers still twirling your sensitive bud as he whispers, “You want me to fuck you?” The word leaves you in a whimper, “Please.”

“Fuck, Y/n.” Joel moans, hips pressing you into the mattress, grip back around your waist, fingers denting your flesh as he holds you to take him to the hilt, reveling in your moaned sigh. “Tell me how you want it,” It’s a shameless plea in your ear as he leans over you; he wants you to know he’s for you, all of him, it’s for you, his heart, his soul, his cock, his hands, his lips; his body, mind, and soul, just the way god intended.

“Harder.” You whimper. 

“Harder?” He repeats lowly, forehead against your temple to keep his whisper steadily in your ear, feeling his gut burn. 

“Yes.”

His hips twitch in a quick jolt before he can start his own rhythm, barely in control of himself when he gets the chance to fuck you how he wants, like its the last thing he’ll ever do on this earth, thwaps of meeting hips filling hitting the walls, each tight thrust pushing a breath out of you like he’s giving you fucking CPR, “You want it like this, baby?”

“Yes, God, ah,” your hands grip his biceps, flexed like every other muscle in his body, every bit of testosterone pumping out in the sweat starting to slick his skin. “That feel good, honey?” He thrust the answer out of you, a breathless, “Yes,” and he feels like a god now. To be able to get these sounds out of you, to get you all breathless and flushed with your legs spread open for him. “You like how my cock feels?” His voice is a deep, low hum, honeyed and hot, met with a lighter, breathless, “Yes, fuck me, fuck,” 

That phrase hits a nerve, and he moans like he’s being beaten, but the blood tastes so sweet in his mouth. 

The bed is starting to shake a little at the rhythm of his hips, knees dug into the bed, fingers swirling your clit in the way that has you trilling like a hungry cat with his other hand holding your waist to keep you in place as he stays just a step away from pounding the shit out of you. He’s never been the type to pride himself on his length or girth—he’s not in college anymore—but he’s hitting your cervix, loading himself into you, and its just as tight as if it was his hand, but it’s Y/n’s cunt that he’s fucking right now, and the cum is stringing his cock, making a mess where your hips meet when he looks down and does nothing less than gawk, the sight making a moan crawl out of his throat and fuck he feels that hot coil, and flings his hand out to grip the headboard, because not fucking yet god damn it, because you’re begging, voice almost shrill, “Please, don’t stop, just like that, fuck right there, right there,” and he shuts his eyes, caught between memorizing the moment and trying to keep himself from cumming first because he wants to feel you, and pump you through it, and yes he’ll do whatever you want but god how he would love to watch you whimper and squirm as you take him, he wants to have you until you’re spent, he wants to make you cum again and again and again, until the sheet is soaked through and you’ll both just have to sleep the rest of the day again, stay in this bed together, and he’ll fall alseep and wake up again to the smell of you, the taste of you. 

“Fuck,” he pants, willing himself to look down at you again, and he can tell before he even asks, almost cooing, “you close, darlin’? Gonna cum soon?”

You nod, face twisted up in sweet pleasure, breaths becoming more stuttered with the force of his hips, “Yeah.” Your hands, before loosely on his hips, slipping in and out of grip as he pressed them down again and again, are now nearly clawing, nails scraping against the muscled bone, mewling, “Yeah,” 

With a harsh moan, Joel brings his face right down over yours, panting against your lips, “Yeah? You gonna cum on my cock? That’s how good it is, baby?”

“Yes, fuck,”

“You like how I fill you up to the fuckin’ brim?” He murmurs, “You like feelin’ me in your guts? You have no idea how good it feels, baby. Love feelin’ how your pussy squeezes my cock.” Nearing pussy drunk, he starts to ramble, almost smothered under the sound of the creaking bed and skin slapping skin and the moans that march from your throat, “Takin’ me so fuckin’ well, Jesus Christ, Y/n, you’re sending me to heaven, baby. You sound like the angel’s fuckin’ singin’, Y/n. Make me feel so good. I wanna make you cum, baby. Wanna feel you fuckin’ cum for me. Cum on my cock, cum for me, honey.” 

“Oh, fuck, fuck me like that, yes,”

“So fucking pretty like this, baby,” his voice stays a soft murmur, more breathless by the second, “you got no idea. So fucking beatiful. Yes, baby, yes, I know, I know you’re so fucking close, cum on it, baby, lemme fuck you through it.”

“Oh fuck,” 

“Yes, yes, yes,” he ruts, thumb twirling around your clit as your thighs clench around his waist, mouth in a perfect O, pouring out moan after shaking moan, brows titled up, lashes fluttering, “keep cumming for me, baby, fuck, fuuuck,” he pants, moaning almost just the same, barely an inch making it out before he plunges back in, fucking you into the bed, and the way you’re hanging onto his hips almost ensures it, “god you’re takin’ me so good, so good, baby,” both hands grasp the headboard now, hanging on by a thread as your pussy grips and quivers around him, so tight in its convulsions he could swear he can feel every ridge of his cock slipping in and out. 

“Oh, God, Joel, fuck,” you’re almost incomprehensible, with the way your body is being jolted into the bed and the way every word is jumbled with a moan, “don’t stop, don’t stop, please,”

“So god damn good, baby, yes, keep cumming for me, feels like fuckin’ heaven, Y/n. Gonna make me cum, fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna fill you up with my cum, sweet girl. You want that, baby? Wanna take my cum?” He coos, moaning, dumb on it, “I wanna fuck my cum into you. You gonna take it? Gonna let me? Show you how much I fuckin’ love you? How you fuckin’ get me?”

Sounds loudening, quickening, you brace your hands on the headboard, tits on display as they jump under his force, stomach muscles clenching and tremoring, “Fuck, yes, yes,”

Joel falls back over you, snaking his arms under your back, cradling your waist as he pumps deep inside you, fucking like an animal. “Yes, yes, yes,” he calls, forehead in the pillow, “keep cumming for me, baby, that’s it, keep goin’ for me, feels so fucking—” his words drop off in a deep, desperate moan, movements fast and harsh, stuffing you up, wet squelching in a mix of cum. “Oh, fuck, I love you,” he lilts, seeing white as he pumps his cum into you, hips jolting hard, holding you tight against him with his arms encircling your waist. Your nails are in his back, heels at the base of his spine, locking him in, taking it, trilling, “Yes, yes, yes,”

Joel’s moans are harsh breaths breaking out from his throat, eyes screwed shut as the primal sensation washes through him, a deep seated desire to profess his need, his love, his devotion as his hips stutter, fucking his seed as deep as he can into you. The aftershocks feel like the moment you see that white tunnel, and he’s reduced into a state of stupid pleasure, lazy sounds falling from his lips as you milk his cock, each ridden out twitch causing his hips to swing again, until he finally stills. 

Joel stays like that, locked deep inside of you, panting against your neck. You’re both sweating, and his animal brain brings his tongue to your skin, lapping up the salty taste. One last breathy moan falls from your lips, and he sighs, long and shaky. 

Finally, he floats back down to earth, sighing, “Shit.” You hum in response, a breathy, almost sleepy sound, and he slowly releases you from his near primitively possessive embrace, your body slumping back down on the bed. Taking in the sight below him, he supports himself over you with a hand planted on the bed, slipping out of you, leaking over the sheets. Your skin is glistening, chest rising and falling gloriously with your breaths. 

He’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life, beauty that stuns him, stupefies him, locks time, eyes traveling over every inch of your skin. Your thighs still rest on either side of his waist, the curly mess between your legs drooling and beaded in cum, a trail of his oozing out to drip onto the white sheets. A strip of sunlight casts a line over your chest, like a blessed spotlight to highlight the curve of your waist, the way your breasts lay, the bend of your neck from your collar. Your face is still flushed, lips parted, eyes half lidded, but he can see something in them, something else. 

This changes things. 

He feels tethered to you now, tied, his beautiful girl, his woman. His right hand, his best friend—his lover. 

The term sounds right. You're the one he loves, in every way he can, now, like this. Giving you pleasure like that, seeing you, hearing you, raw, making your nerves scream in rapture. From him. Another thing he can give to you. 

His lover. 

[ksbbb]

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

❤️-Love is a Twisted Dance of Shadows

On his way out of the classroom he does slam into the door in his disbelief at being pulled out of class , and his teacher allowing it.

It hurts some, but he’s not too worried about it when he’s just trying to get out the door and away from prying eyes.

“What?” Liam slams his book into his bag or more so shoves it in, since he’s s not able to throw it against a hard surface.

This is not a fun way to get out of class.

“Hello, sorry to intrude. I thought I would have a really important conversation.” Douglas says, getting right to the point and he’s not Theo, so what the heck is going on? Liam’s not going to be pulled out of class for just anyone.

“Why? I thought you were Theo.” Liam steps back, placing his hand on the door and gently bringing attention to the fact that he’s not too inclined to have any contact with this man.

“Appreciate the concern, but it was only to get myself in here. Theo seems to be more of a household name than I am. For being so young he does cause a lot of traction and attention .” Douglas takes Liam’s bag, throwing it over his shoulder and waiting for him to do as he’s told, which he won’t.

“I’m not trying to be rude but I do have to pass this class.” He watches helplessly as Douglas walks away and Liam does hesitate, does wait to see if he really needs to follow, but the stern look he sees when he doesn’t move immediately, makes Liam accept the request.

—————

Other snippet

“So why are you eating with us? Now that you aren’t living in your off campus apartment you can get a private chef. Really live the lifestyle.” Brett says, a snide joke that he isn’t enjoying, as Liam takes back the waffle, throwing it on his own plate.

“Are you for real? Unbelievable. You went to a private school Brett.” Liam snarks, taking his time to get coffee and make Brett wait for his own cup to be poured.

“Yes, but I’ve never lived a life of crime.” Brett snarls back, a harsh smile bringing out Liam’s defensive side and he wants to defend Theo for doing the only thing he knows how to do.

“You don’t know what he is, or isn’t doing.” Liam throws a napkin at Brett, helping to maintain his role in being polite but adding an irritated spin to it.

Oh!! Look, waffles. Love those.” Nolan beams, and piles a heap of them onto his plate, handing Mason a couple of napkins.

“I’m glad we decided to do buffet style this time because I was getting sick of the regular food we eat at the college. How’s your appetite for fruit?” Mason asks, talking to Nolan and leaving out his other friends.

[thecryptidart1st]

I’ve been tempted to make something related to Dark Deception bc I think Dark Deception needs the love, but I’m also worried that Glowstick Entertainment are gonna release Chapter 5 on the anniversary and ruin this script I’m currently writing

[twice-inamillion]

The Company 

Teasing Bunny Nayeon

Smut (Self-sacrifice, fingering, teasing, squirting, orgasm)

Chapter 13

1430 Words 

(Nayeon finds out your role in her personal affairs. To show her appreciation she decides to offer her body, but things don’t go according to plans.)

It’s been a few weeks since the incident with Nayeon’s former stepdad, and everything has been well. There haven't been any issues from your end, and you even took care of their outstanding debts, obviously anonymously. 

You head back to your apartment when you hear someone call your name, “Oppa!” From afar, you see Nayeon returning from the other side of campus. 

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay, let’s go to a cafe.”

“It’s personal.”

Thinking of a good place, you say, “There’s a study lounge a few floors down from my apartment. We can go there.” 

“That’d be great.”

You lead Nayeon to the elevator and press the button to where the study lounge is. “I heard from my mom that someone paid all our debt a few weeks back.” 

“That’s great news.” 

“That was you, huh.” 

“What do you mean?”

“It was you who paid my family’s debt off.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know it was you, Oppa. No one else knew of our debt besides my family.” 

“Okay, it was me.” 

Nayeon hugs you, “Oppa, thank you so much; I’ll repay you no matter what.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, let me repay you.”

There’s no response; Nayeon, standing next to you, tugs on the edge of your shirt. She glides her hand against your pelvis, touching your limp cock, and ask, “What are you doing, Nayeon?”

“I want to repay you.”

“No, you’re good. There is no need.” 

“I can’t pay you monetary, but I can offer you my body instead,” as she rubs your cock through your pants.

“Nayeon, you don’t have to.”

“I don’t want to be indebted to you; please let me pay you like this,” as Nayeon puts her head onto your chest, still gliding her hand on your limp cock. “I want to show you my appreciation.

The elevator door slides open; you scan your keycard and press the button for your floor, causing the door to close. You place your hand on Nayeon’s butt and give it a nice squeeze which makes her smile. 

The elevator opens, and you walk with Nayeon, who is still attached to your side. She watches you open your door and walks in, now realizing what's going to happen. 

“You have a nice apartment. Should we get started?”

”Are you that in a rush?”

”No, it's just that I’ve never done this before, so I don’t know what to do.”

”Oh, so it’s going to be your first time?”

Startled by the question, she shyly says, “Yes,” turning completely red from embarrassment.

”Let’s make this a special night to remember,” as you give her a gentle smile. You want her to feel comfortable with you and be open to what you’re about to propose. 

“Okay, what should we do?”

”I want you to strip.”

”Ehh?”

Strip.”

Nayeon is surprised by your boldness but slightly turned on. Embarrassed, she watches as you sit on your couch while she stands in front of you. She crosses her arms, removes her blouse, and reveals her black bra. Next is her pants, and she takes those off, one leg at a time. 

“Wow, you have a nice body.” 

Nayeon can’t help but smile at your compliment, “Thanks, I try to take care of myself.” 

“Alright, now the rest.” 

She reaches her left bra strap with her right hand, slides it down, and switches to the next. She undoes the back of her bra and, releases it, and lets it drop on the floor. Nayeon crosses her arms and covers her breasts from embarrassment. 

“Don’t forget about your panties,” as you give her a warm smile.

Nayeon uses her hand to cover both her breasts as she moves the other to pull down on her panties. 

“Move your hand off your chest.”

She nods, moves her hand, and uses it to balance herself as she removes her panties. 

You see Nayeon cover her privates, embarrassed of being seen completely nude for the first time. “I won’t ask you again; move your hands away.”

With some hesitation, she moves her hands, placing them to her side as she reveals her small breast and tight cunt with a slight bush. 

“It’s cute.” 

Nayeon turns red from embarrassment and closes her eyes, “Don’t say it’s cute; that’s embarrassing.” 

You pull out your phone and say, “Look towards me.” Nayeon opens her eyes and sees your camera flash go off.” 

“You’re taking pictures?” 

“Your body is just too amazing not to take a picture.”

Enjoying the compliment, she says, “Alright, just don’t show it to anyone.” 

“Of course not.” 

“Want me to pose?”

“Press your tits together.” 

She presses her breasts together and bends slightly, allowing you a good view. You snap multiple pictures and see Nayeon enjoying the attention with each one.” 

“Turn around and spread your cheeks for me, will ya.” 

Nayeon turns and bends slightly, placing each hand on each cheek. With a firm hold, she spread her cheeks, allowing you to see both her tightly pucker hole and part of her cunt.”

“Fuck, what a beautiful ass you have,” and snap a set of pictures. You lick your thumb and press it against her cunt, causing her to moan. You switch your attention to her pucker hole, “wait, what are you doing?”

“I just want to see how tight it is.” 

“I’ve never put anything inside; that’s weird.” 

You can’t help but chuckle at her innocence, knowing she won’t stay so innocent for much longer.

“Alright, come here and take a seat,” patting the area next to you. Nayeon walks towards the couch and sits next to you, “umm, can I go to the bathroom before we do it?”

 “Haha, we’re going to have some fun before the main event.” You slide your hand across her chest and grab her breast, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Ahh…” 

You go straight for her neck and kiss her, making her moan even more. You switch back and forth, massaging her breasts, and you make out with her neck. 

After a few minutes, you move your hand off her chest and place it on her thighs, giving it a nice grip.

“Ahh, oppa, it feels good.”

Little by little you move your hand, anticipating her reaction as you move towards her lower region. She feels your fingers hover against her cunt, which catches her by surprise.

Nayeon tightens her legs to the feeling of your finger, tracing her lower lips. It’s a weird sensation, but don’t hate it, instead, it makes her stomach tickle. 

“Ahh, oppa, what are you doing?”

 “You’re this wet, already?” as you continue to rub against her wet lips. You press your fingers deeper, rubbing it quickly.

Nayeon puts her hands on top of yours and moans, “Ahh, oppa, stop, you’re making me weird…” 

You increase the pace, rubbing her cunt, making her leak uncomfortably. She puts her hands on her breasts, twisting her nipples. 

Suddenly, you see Nayeon arching her back and crying out, “oppa, I think I need to pee.” She tries to stand up, but her body doesn’t respond; she begins to shake violently and cry out as she has her orgasm. 

You feel a large amount of liquid gush out of Nayeon, staining the couch she was sitting on, “Ahh, oppa, sorry, I peed all over your couch!” She tries to stand up, but you grab her arm and pull her back onto the seat. “Don’t.” 

Nayeon yelps as you pull her back onto the couch, “Wait, I need to use the restroom!” You don’t give her a chance to react as you rub her cunt once more. She squirms around and shouts, “No, I’m going to pee again!” Using her own juices as lube, you vigorously move your hand. 

It doesn’t take long for her to have her second orgasm, “Ahh, ahh… ahhh, let me rest.” You repeat this another two times and smile when she becomes a complete mess. 

Nayeon tries to catch her breath; her own body is completely sore. When she sees you grin, she begs, “Please, don’t. My body is sore!” and crashes onto the couch.

Happy with the results, you spread her legs open and see her slightly red and swollen cunt, ready for the main event.

[hellodropbear]

like she used to (III)

alexia putellas x sister

chapter I, II

edited this in 25 minutes and now I am going to bed... but alexia debut in here today :)

~~~~~~

I sat in the back of the car as Ingrid drove Mapi and me to Johan the next morning. The car was silent, my eyes focussed out the window, hyperaware of the glances that both defenders threw back at me every so often.

Mapi is worried about me. That much I can tell, but I don't know why Ingrid, who I've barely spoken to, seems to think the world is coming to an end. She was in the room this morning when Mapi told me that Mami had called to say that she would see me there. I don't think the tension in the room was hard for the Norwegian to identify. Or it could have been Mapi's wide eyes staring at me that made her think something was wrong. 

Alba is also coming to watch this game even though I told her I wouldn't be playing.

"you are part of the first team for the first time ever, hermanita! It is exciting just to watch you warm up."

I had rolled my eyes as she pulled me into a hug that day, but I appreciated it either way.

Ingrid led me to the changing rooms as Mapi made her way into the stands with some of the other injured players. My locker is beside Aitana's and she beams up at me when she spots me. I thank Ingrid quickly and make my over to Aitana and into her open arms.

"You ready?"

I nod, a smile on my face. For the first time in a long time, I do not think about my sister or what she would say, what her opinion would be. It is hard to grasp the idea that my dreams are maybe becoming a reality. 

E. Putellas 29

It is a dream that I have had for a long time, to have my name on a blaugrana shirt, to be in this very position. It is something I have wanted since I could kick a ball, since I watched my sister do the same thing all those years ago.

They had asked me what name I wanted on the back of my jersey. Because Alexia just had her first name, I could take the last name without the E but Mami said to keep the E. I think she wanted me to just use my first name as well but that is for Alexia. I am only new to this, I thought.

I will not play today, Jonatan told me, but he said he wants me to be a sub in a game with lower pressure after I've spent a few games on the bench and trained with the team for more than a week.

Despite this, Mami and Alba are sat in the audience, between a bunch of relatives and family friends.

A red flush creeps onto my cheeks as I hear them all cheering when I run out of the tunnel to start the warm up. Aitana's arm is around my shoulders and she gives me an extra tight squeeze before winking at me and releasing me from her hold.

I know I will be sitting on the bench for the whole game but just warming up with the team is exciting. The cheering from the audience during the warm up is ten times louder than any crowd I've played in front of, even in the most stressful part of a match.

I try to shrug off the goosebumps that creep over my arms as I take in my surroundings. It is surreal and I think I am in a state of disbelief when Patri approaches me.

"You ok, pequena?"

"I'm good." I look at her as she places a hand on my shoulder. "This is just big."

"I get it. You are very young. You should be very proud of yourself, Elena. You a right, this is a big thing. A huge thing. We are all very proud, remember that."

She squeezes my shoulder before letting go.

"Now get to warming up, stop drifting off with the fairies!"

~~~~~~

It only took Barcelona 5 minutes to establish their dominance through an early Salma goal and by half time they were already up by 4 to 0.

The second half started and by the end of the match we were up by 8 with a decent scoreline of 9-1. Patri pulled me off the bench to go on the rounds to all the opposition and the fans. I have seen this happen so many times that it still feels surreal to be experiencing it.

"Where is your sister?"

Patri's whisper is meant to be harmless but her words are like ice water down my back and my stomach flips inside out. She continues when I shrug my shoulders.

"I saw her earlier with Olga, she's probably sat with the other injured girls."

At the mention of the girlfriend I have not met, I resist the urge to throw up, saying goodbye to Patri and heading over to where my family was in the stands.

My whole family tells me how proud they are and I think Mami takes about a thousand pictures of me and Alba and gets Alba to take some of me and her as well. I am grateful that she ignores Alexia's absence but that does not mean any of us are happy about it.

Mami is frustrated, angry maybe and that is evident in the way she scans the stadium every few minutes and shakes her head or releases disappointed sighs every once in a while.

Alba is sad and it is obvious because she makes no effort to hide the tears that brim in her eyes behind her smile. She tells me it is proud but I know when she looks longingly over to where Alexia should be standing beside me that she is just as upset as I am.

I am offended but I do my best to hide my emotions. I try to be as happy as I can because I am somewhat exhilarated from the experience despite sitting on the bench for the full 90 minutes.

Keira and Ona were being rested for the whole match and it turns out that Keira is hilarious and Ona can provide the best commentary on any match. They are a good pairing and I enjoyed making fun of Keira as she struggled to keep up with our (very slow) Spanish.

I am definitely looking forward to playing at some point. The thought makes me so incredibly nervous but I don't think there will be a better feeling than finally stepping out onto that field with my name on my back and representing my childhood club.

Mami holds me in her arms after she's satisfied with the pictures and I feel a tear drop onto my head.

"I am so proud of you, nina, you have made me proud from the day you were born and you will continue forever. This is just the start of everything. Papi is looking down on us right now with pride too, he's telling all his friends that you are his baby bear and that he taught you everything you know."

I sniffle in her arms.

"Thank you for everything you have done for me Mami, I would be nothing if not for you."

"Oh, hija, I love you."

"I love you too."

Alba throws herself into the hug and proclaims it is now a group hug. Mami chuckles and extends one of her arms around her.

"Mi hermanita is all grown up!" Alba cheers quietly so only me and Mami can hear. "15 years old and in the first team, a record?"

"Only a record when I leave the bench, Alba." I whack the back of her head with my hand and she recoils from the hug in mock annoyance.

"I should go, Mami, I'll meet you out the front?"

She nods and I kiss her cheek before wandering back to the changing rooms.

I am surprised when they are empty but the sound of the showers tells me that I will not be alone for long.

It is supposed to be a happy feeling, but I can not help but feel alone in this room, full of the belongings of people who are older than me, more experienced, skilled. People who know my sister better than I do.

People who will always look up to La Reina. Who will always hang off her every word.

I wish that was me still because if it was, I would not be alone in this locker room right now, I would be celebrating with my sister.

But she is nowhere to be found.

She didn't even say hello to me, she didn't say congratulations, she didn't even acknowledge my existence. It hurts me more than I care to admit, but maybe that is what she meant when she said I was weak.

I wipe the tears out of my eyes before they spill and it is good timing because a whole group of girls walk into the locker room at the same time that Ingrid and Frido return from their showers.

"Our pequena!" Marta cheers when she sees me in my cubby and paces over to pick me up. "You are one of us now, welcome to Barca!"

Everyone cheers and a big smile takes over my face as I am thrown amongst the group of people, being hugged and patted on the back, loud yells in Spanish bouncing round the room.

Aitana holds me for longer than everyone else and whispers her congratulations in my ear.

"You need a lift home today?"

I shake my head and smile.

"Mami and Alba are taking me out to dinner."

Aitana nods and begins talking about how exciting it is that I have finally been introduced to the first team and how I have grown up and I zone out and scan the room.

The loud chatter is a far cry from the near silence that engulfed the room five minutes ago.

I spot Mapi in the corner of the room speaking animatedly to Ingrid.

Frido is also there, laughing with Caro and Marta

Jana is beside Bruna, a giddy smile on her face as they chat to Esmee.

That can only mean one thing, Alexia is somewhere in here but I do not want to speak to her. I do not want to see her and I do not want her to see me. I excuse myself from Aitana to quickly grab my change of clothes and I go over to the showers, spending the longest possible time rinsing myself and washing my hair and an even longer time drying myself and getting changed.

I spend a humiliating amount of time in the stall but I do not hear anyone else come into the bathroom so I don't really think anyone had noticed.

If I had known what was been waiting for me when I opened the door of my stall I probably wouldn't have opened it.

Because the bleached blonde hair was the first thing I clocked, but her confidence oozed out of her as she leant against the wall, her arms crossed, her head resting against the blue paint like she was bored.

I don't say anything when I see her, trying my luck by just walking straight past her but her hand reaches out and stops me from leaving.

"No, Elena, don't run away from me."

"What do you want from me, Alexia?"

She let out an exhale and her features softened slightly. I look down at her feet, willing myself to not make eye contact.

"Why did I find out you had joined my team through a post on Instagram?"

I roll my eyes and shrug my shoulders, making an unintelligible sound that tells her that I do not know and I do not care. I try to leave again but she just stops me again.

"Why do I not know anything about you anymore? Why did Mapi find you in the middle of the park near her house last night when you should have been in bed like Mami thought?"

At least Mapi didn't say anything. I was worried, she is terrible at keeping secrets.

I just scoff because I don't know how else to react to the irony.

"Where is your girlfriend?"

She sighs.

"Olga is in the changing room with the others. You can meet her if you would like."

"I do not want to meet her."

"Then why did you ask?"

"I just wanted to confirm it wasn't just another one of Alba's rumours. You never told me."

I am proud that my voice doesn't falter, that it doesn't break. It is calm, level, despite the emotions that are raging inside of me.

"And whose fault is that?"

I roll my eyes but I avoid saying anything. She hesitated before continuing.

"We were best friends Elena, what even happened? Why did you stop talking to me, why did you start skipping our thursday night dinners?"

I scoff as she tries to make eye contact.

"I am not having this conversation now, Alexia. This is supposed to be a happy day but you are ruining it. You don't remember, that is the problem."

"I should be part of this day with you. I am your captain now."

I hold back a laugh.

"yes, captain, anything you say captain." I salute her weakly and turn around to leave, pushing past her outstretched arm.

Mapi looks at me cautiously as I walk back into the changing rooms but she is chatting with Olga and I do not want to have any interaction with her. I wave goodbye to her and Ingrid and say goodbye to a few of the others.

"What did she say?" Aitana had walked out with me and had apparently seen Alexia enter the showers earlier as well.

"That she is my captain now." I don't think I will ever forget her coldness.

"She is also your sister, Lena, she must be proud?"

If she is she has not shown it.

"She is my captain before she is my sister." My voice is monotone and I stare straight ahead of me. "Football always comes before family. It always has for Alexia."

Aitana shakes her head.

"It should not, it is not healthy."

I can't help but agree with the midfielder beside me.

~~~~~~

Dinner with Mami and Alba is nice, although I shouldn't have expected the topic of my oldest sister to be completely neglected the whole evening. Thankfully, she waits until we are all in the car driving home to bring it up.

"Your sister should have been there today, Elena." She makes eye contact with me through the rear view mirror and I look away.

"There are many things she should have done but didn't." I mumble quietly so Mami can't hear me, but Alba does and she looks back at me weirdly.

"Alexia said she was going to talk to you, she told us how proud she was and I said that you would want to hear her say it to you."

"She's... proud of me?" My voice is soft and I can see my mother's eyebrows furrow in the mirror.

"Of course she is, you are her baby sister and you have just joined her team. She was upset that you didn't tell her and I don't think she really understood why but, Lena, she was practically crying. She is a very proud big sister. I told her to come with us tonight and she seemed keen, said she would meet you in the changerooms and come out with you."

"Why does she tell you all this but when she talks to me she is so cold?" My voice is barely a whisper yet both Mami and Alba hear me loud and clear.

"She went to meet you in the dressing room, she was excited for you to meet Olga and Olga was excited as well. What did she say to you?" Mami frowns, her eyes flickering over to Alba who also had creases in her forehead.

I shrug.

"She asked me why I didn't tell her that I had joined, why she doesn't know anything about my life anymore. She said she was my captain, she should be part of my life. I think she meant my football life, not my actual one."

"What makes you say that?" Alba is the one who speaks because Mami looks devastated.

I look around dramatically. "If she wanted to be part of my actual life she would be here right now, no?"

Alba runs her hands over her face in frustration but I don't think she is frustrated at me. Just the situation. I think it has upset Alba more than anyone else and I feel guilty.

"Sorry." 

"No, hermanita, this is not your fault, I just don't understand what is going through Alexia's head."

"It's ok, Alba, Mami. I don't mind. Really, I don't."

Mami just shakes her head. She is not happy and she clearly does mind.

"No, you and your sister need to sort this out, pequena, I simply cannot stand it any more. You will be home for dinner this Thursday and you will talk about it."

"But I have train-" I am interrupted.

"No you do not, you are not playing with the B team at the moment, don't be ridiculous. You will be there and we will discuss it then. We also need to discuss what we are going to do about your school."

I groan, although the change in topic is appreciated.

"Mami! I don't want to have to go back to school because I'd rather do this." She sighs and I roll my eyes.

"La Masia has made an arrangement that will allow you to continue your classes there but your days will be rearranged. You will go to training with the first team until 2, then you will go over to La Masia and do your school classes with your peers there. They will get you a tutor to study with you in the evenings when training usually is to make up for the school you missed in the morning."

Unfortunately, Mami has always been adamant that we get a good education despite mine and Alexia's obsessions with football.

I was quick to get out of the car when we arrived home, having dropped Alba off at her apartment on the way back. I went up to my room quickly, changing into my pajamas and heading to bed quite quickly.

Mami called out to tell me that she was going to see Alexia before bed, so I sat on my phone for a while, the doors locked and my lights switched off.

But my phone was plugged in and my eyes were closed when a soft fist hit my door twice. Thinking it was just mami, I called for her to enter.

But when I registered that bleach blonde hair for the second time that day, all I felt was regret.

"I am tired, Alexia. Please, just let me sleep."

"Elena, please." I hadn't noticed the tears that dripped down her face, the slump in her usual perfect posture. Her voice cracked when she said my name. "I miss you."

"Alexia. It has been a long day, I am tired, I want to sleep. Please, Alexia. Let me sleep." I am acting immature but I am tired, and I don't want to have this conversation now.

She let out a soft exhale, stepping towards me and placing a kiss on the side of my head that is exposed to the air.

I try to ignore the warm shivers it sends down my spine, it has been so long since she did that; since she did something she used to do every night.

She walks slowly back to the door, stopping as she reaches it and resting her hand on the door handle.

"Mami says you don't think I am proud of you. It is not true. I am so proud of you and I love you, pequena. But I don't think you need me anymore, I think you're fine without me. I am sorry, Elena. I am sorry for not being there for you when I should have been, but I will take a step back. I am so proud of you."

She pushed down the door handle and was gone just as quickly as she came and I resisted the urge to call out and tell her she had got it all wrong. I want her to take a step forward, she has already taken a step back. She has already taken 50 steps back.

I need her. More than anything.

But I can't rely on her. I can not be weak in front of her.

I am a Putellas. I can not be weak.

She has to be right. I am fine without her.

~~~~~~

She is still home when I walk downstairs in the morning, her eyes puffy and hair a mess as she sits on the kitchen table with a coffee. My sigh alerts her to my presence but I turn my back on her as soon as I enter the kitchen.

"Elena, please." I don't know how I changed my sister from a leader to a beggar, but today is not the day to ask when that happened.

I pour myself a bowl of cereal silently and head straight back upstairs, locking my bedroom door and eating my breakfast before sitting down on the piano stall, my fingers immediately jumping onto the keys, improvising and experimenting with new notes, chords and rhythms.

I don't know what Mami said to Alexia when she visited last night, but to be quite honest I don't want to know. I just need to keep being ok without my older sister, no matter how much I miss her. She said I should be fine without her, so I will be.

For some reason, I neglect to consider the other words she said.

"I miss you."

"I am so proud of you."

"I love you."

I think I ignore those statements because I can't seem to grasp their validity. If she missed me, she would have seen me; she would have come to my games. If she was proud of me I would already know, she would have told me like Mami had, like Alba had. Like everyone else who is proud of me has.

If she loved me... If she loved me she would be my older sister again.

I miss her, I am proud of her and I love her. It is true and I have never once doubted those emotions.

But it feels like she is just saying what she wants me to hear. What Mami said that she should say to me. I don't think she actually means it.

How could someone who loves me tell me that I am weak?

How could someone who is proud of me tell me that she doesn't want me to achieve my dreams, that she never wants to share a shirt because I am haven't had to work for it?

I don't understand how it could be true, both things at the same time.

I curse at the tear that spills out of my eye, rubbing it away aggressively and shaking my head at myself. No. I can not be weak. Not today, not ever.

My sisters words from today, from yesterday, from three years ago spin in my mind and my fingers become more and more aggressive on the keys of my piano, my song increasing in intensity; reflecting my emotions in the only way I know how. The keys are my home, the notes are my head and the song is my heart. 

Though sometimes the song sounds broken, like right now when there is so much going on. So many chords, rhythms. Increasing speed, increasing volume. My fingers moving at a million miles an hour, barely hitting one key before moving to the next. 

There is so much going on that it is overwhelming, so much going on that it could just explode. Into a million pieces. So many pieces that it would be futile to even try and put them back together.

It does that sometimes, and I have to fall back down to the softness and calmness of the easy rhythms, easily sailing away from the broken song like it never even existed. 

But it always existed, and it's remains will always be there at the bottom of the sea, haunting me, threatening to re-emerge. 

I realise I have been grieving my sister like she has died. I grieve the death of our relationship and how it has changed so quickly and so aggressively. I miss her more than anything, but the thought of what it used to be is overwhelming, it fills me with dread, with complete sadness. 

Those notes that exploded so long ago, still lying dormant somewhere, never gone, never forgotten. There are so many of them, I just wish she would help me pick them up.

My song has already exploded, so I resort to playing soft chords, tears now spilling from my eyes in a continuous stream. There are too many to wipe away and I know that my eyes will be red and my cheeks puffy when I eventually do. I have lost my sister in a way that is almost impossible to comprehend.

Because Alexia isn't dead, and somehow that makes her distance so much harder to understand, so much more hurtful.

She isn't dead, she has just decided she does not want to be a part of my life any more.

The song comes to a conclusion, and my fingers rest on the keys, my eyes staring ahead at the empty stand in front of me, trying their very best to not slip upwards towards the picture that I know hangs directly above it.

The picture of me and my family the day I was born, held in Alexia's arms as Alba tried her best to share me, both of them sitting beside Mami in bed as Papi watched on with a proud smile.

I would go back to that day in an instant if I was given the opportunity.

~~~~~~

I don't go back downstairs until I hear the front door close and Alexia's car drive away. I give it a few minutes before I actually leave the safe haven that my bedroom has become, ignoring Mami's watchful eyes as I slump onto the sofa, using the remote to switch on the tv.

I only watch it for five minutes before my mother switches it off, standing by the door and looking directly at me.

"She is confused, Elena. She doesn't know why this has all happened but she is angry with herself for not being there for you more."

I roll my eyes. Of course she doesn't remember.

"Maybe she should use her brain. Maybe she should just think."

Mami shakes her head at me, it could be in frustration, maybe disappointment. I still do not look at her.

"Maybe you could just talk to her! She doesn't know how to love you when you won't let her. She wanted you to meet Olga yesterday, but you left. She wanted to speak to you last night or this morning but you ignored her."

"But Mami, it is not my fault! It should not be up to me to fix what she has broken."

"She is trying, Elena, and at the moment that is what matters. This just can not go on, you are in the same family, the same football team! Mapi spoke to me yesterday, you know. She was practically crying, Elena, it's effecting even her."

"I never should have opened my mouth to her. Now she has involved herself in something that is not her business." My voice is poisonous and my words aggressive. I know Mapi would be heartbroken if she could hear this, she always has tried so hard to do what is best. Especially when it was about me.

I love Mapi, I always have. She never thought I did because I never gravitated towards her at training when I was little, but that was just because I thought she was another sister - she was like Alexia, always around.

When I was 11, maybe, I didn't realise how upset she got about me 'not liking her', and I had made a joke about never hanging around with Mapi. It was when she left the room that Alexia pulled me to the side harshly.

"Even if you don't like her, Elena, you have to pretend! She is my best friend and she loves you so much."

I remember looking at her with my mouth agape - I love Mapi, I always did. I was confused, it was a meaningless joke - a version of a joke I made all the time to Alexia.

Alexia didn't need to tell me to go talk to her, but I didn't know what to say when I walked out the door and found her sitting down with her back to the wall, tears pouring down her face. I explained everything and she apologised for being dramatic.

Since then, we have gotten along well and I have tried to spend time with her when I can.

It has been harder in the last couple years when I have fallen out with Alexia. They are best friends, I don't want to get in the way of that.

Mami's anger brings me right back to reality.

"That is enough, Elena! Maria only wants to help, but she can't, nobody can do anything except you and Alexia."

I resist rolling my eyes, instead releasing a huff of air.

"I'll think about it." 

My arms are folded and I turn back towards the blank screen, ignoring the way Mami sighs and walks away. 

It is only when I hear her door close that I let my angry facade crumble, my body shaking as I resist the tears. 

I need to stop crying. 

Alexia thinks I am strong enough to do everything by myself.

I need to prove to her that I can. 

Maybe then she will tell me she is proud of me. 

~~~~~~

this is pretty much all the prewritten stuff i have, will write more soon once my exams are done

let me know if there's anything you want to see in the next parts

part IV

[mindmelter]

Five Alien Hosts: Adventures In Italy (Part 1) - Vacation

(This series is a Sequel of "Five Aliens On Board Of Hunks". So before diving into this story, I recommend reading its prequel. Although this chapter still works on its own. Enjoy it.)

_____________________________

Victor and the five alien controlled hunks landed in Italy, they were now at the airport waiting for Victor's next orders.

"So, what's the plan, Master? I've already canceled all my host's meetings for the week, just like you asked me." Sylo, the alien bug inside the man's brain, said.

Victor sighed and sat in front of him. He ran his hand through his hair as he analyzed the situation they were in. "I'm still thinking about it. The plan was to release all five of you once we arrived at the resort. Then, you guys would take over some of the hot Italian guests there. But I wasn't expecting the five of you to disobey my orders and take over these five hunks on the plane..."

"Do Master wish for us to abandon our hosts?" Sylo asked.

"No, I really like the bodies you guys picked. Specially yours... don't tell your brothers but your host is my favorite. I like that you went straight for the business class for the prime meat. What is his name by the way? We should use the host's names while in public"

"His name is Alexander"

"Where was he going?"

"He was going to a business meeting here in Italy. He's quite a busy and important man. His dad owned an internacional car exporter company and of course Alexander here is now the CEO of the company"

"Interesting, having a rich host might be helpful"

Victor and Sylo's attention suddenly turned to a muscular Arab man near them: It was Grus's bodybuilder host. He was screaming to someone on the phone, he seemed very angry "Yes, that's right! I will not attend the bodybuilding competition this year... I know I said I would be there... I don't have to explain why... fuck the contracts, I want you to shove them up your ass!" He shouted hanging up the call.

"Grus really knows how to imitate the personalities of his hosts" Sylo commented.

Near the angry bodybuilder was Quin's footballer host, the football player was with his girlfriend, who was waiting for him at the airport, but now it looked like they were having a heated discussion. The couple was finally going to reunite after two months apart, well, that was before one of Victor's alien bugs crawled inside the stud's brain and took over his hot body.

"What do you mean you are travelling again? I waited for you for two months! You said you would focus on our relationship once you were back"

"I have more important things to do now" He said in a flat tone.

"More important than our relationship? What's wrong with you?" The woman shouted and pushed Quin's host. "That's it, It's over for us!" She shouted storming away. The handsome blond athlete continued standing with a blank face expression, as if his girlfriend of five years hadn't just ended their relationship. He then turned to look at Victor with his blank face and smirked, giving Victor a thumbs up.

Victor then looked at Echo's Daddy host sitting on a near seat with his wife and children. While Yinx's host was talking with the host's girlfriend, she was confused as why her boyfriend had decided not to visit her parents anymore.

Those five men boarded the plane with different plans for themselves and their loved ones. Now, they were nothing but husks for the tiny alien bugs to control. The aliens were now the ones on board their bodies, and it was now up to Victor to create a new plan for all of them. Victor then turned to Alexander.

"Only Echo's daddy host was already going to the same resort as me, all the other hosts had different plans." Victor said.

"Why don't we all go together to the resort, Master? All our hosts have canceled their appointments as you ordered, our hosts are now free of any human burden."

"But you guys don't have reservations, I only made one reservation for myself"

"You don't have to worry about that, Master. My host is a millionarie, he's the CEO of an internacional car company. He's so rich that I could rent the entire resort if I wanted. I'm sure I could arrange five reservations for him and my brothers's hosts"

"This sounds like a good plan. Connect me to the others, please" Victor ordered.

Alexander then closed his eyes and pressed his fingers on his temples for a few seconds. Victor watched as the other four hosts stopped moving to receive the mental signal. This was one of the bugs' abilities: They were able to communicate telepathically to each other. They all shared the same mental link and could communicate as long as they weren't too far away from one another.

"They are hearing you Master" Sylo's host spoke with his eyes white rolling back. Victor leaned closer to him.

"Ok, listen to me, guys. We are still going to the resort as it was the original plan, only now you will go into your new hosts. You guys know the rules..." Victor said, and Sylo passed the message to the others like a group call.

"Yes Master, while inside a host we must take their Identity as well" Alexander responded for the five of them.

"That's right, unless we are in private that you guys can stop acting like them. Now let's go, this vacation is not only for me but for you guys too. After helping me fuck with every hot guy that I wanted for the past year, you guys deserve a break"

"Thank you, Master" Sylo responded for the five of the alien bugs.

_____________________________

The next day, Victor and the five alien hosts were enjoying the Saturday morning at one of the most expensive resorts in Italy. Sylo used his host's money to pay for all the expenses, and to get the best rooms.

Victor was sharing a room with Sylo's host, Alexander.

Echo's daddy host — whose name was David — was sharing a room with his family.

Yinx's host was sharing a room with his girlfriend, who was still mad at him for changing their plans of meeting with her parents to spending a weekend at the resort.

Quin's footballer host and Grus's bodybuilder host were sharing a room together as the bodybuilder was single and the football player had just ended his long term relationship at the airport.

The night before, while Alexander was fucking Victor on their bed, Victor commanded Sylo to connect his mind with his brothers, so all the hosts could feel what Alexander was feeling. In the next room, Yinx's was fucking his host's girlfriend. In another, Quin's footballer host was getting a blowjob from Grus's bodybuilder host.

When Alexander came inside Victor, Sylo sent a powerful orgasmic signal towards every single one of the four hosts in the other rooms, in which all came together at the same time.

Victor woke up to an empty bed, Alexander wasn't in the room anymore. Victor, still lying on the bed stared at the ceiling and started to smile as he remembered all the fun he had the night before. Victor fell asleep with Alexander's hard cock buried deep inside him. Victor grunted in disappointment, he wanted to start the day with a morning fuck, so where the hell was Sylo with his hot host? He grabbed his phone on the nightstand and saw a message from Alexander.

"Good morning, Master. I'm having breakfast at the restaurant near the coast. I didn't want to wake you up so I went alone"

Victor quickly put his clothes on, and on his way to meeting with Alexander, he saw David—Echo's host—relaxing on a chair with his family. Victor passed by and admired the dad in black speedos." He couldn't believe that just a day before he was cumming on those hairy pecs in the airplane bathroom.

David grinned at Victor and unpretentiously adjusted his bulge, only Victor knew it was very much Intentional, Echo was trying to tease Victor with his new sexy Daddy host. Victor then spotted Alexander sitting at a table alone, and walked to him.

"Why don't you two just fuck each other right there in front of everyone?" Alexander joked, the restaurant area had a clear view of David.

"God, I wish I could. You guys picked the most hottest men on that plane." Victor said sitting on his side, then he took Alexander's glass of orange juice and took a sip, just for fun he spat inside and handed the glass back to Alexander, who smiled.

"You taught us how to pick the best human males."

"I sure did. I'm so lucky to have you guys in my life. These men wouldn't give me the light of the day if it wasn't for literal aliens taking over their brains."

They both laughed, then Alexander gulped down the juice. "You're right, Master. Alexander would only fuck female models. You would never be on his dating pool, but you don't have to worry about that anymore. With us in control you're the only one that they will ever have eyes on"

David blushed.

Suddendly Alexander froze for a few seconds and his eyes rolled back.

"Is everything ok?" Victor asked. Alexander then pressed two fingers on his temple.

"I'm getting a mental link from Yinx... He wants to talk with you in private.... he's at the... hotel's gym."

"I better go see what he wants" Victor said standing up. "Won't you give me a kiss, Master?" Alexander asked pulling Victor by the shirt and planting a gentle kiss on his lips.

Victor walked to the gym, once there he saw that the place was almost empty with the exception of Yinx's host — Anthony — working out at the bicycle's area.

"Hey Master!" Yinx said, giving Victor a warm smile.

"Hey sexy. I'm seeing you're really enjoying your new muscles."

"What can I say? I love working the muscles of my hosts, there's just something very addicting about this human practice, I like the pain it causes."

"Can you give me a flex? Please?"

"Of course Master"

Victor started to sweat and a tent started to form in his shorts. It was too hot to have someone like Anthony flexing for him.

"God, I will never get used to this." Victor squeezed Anthony's biceps, then lifted one arm and sniffed on his sweaty armpit, he had a strong musk and Victor wasted no time in giving it a few licks. "So, uuummffh... Sylo said you wanted to.. mmmffhhh.. talk to me?"

"Yes, follow me, Master" They both walked to a more private area at the gym, then Anthony sat on a couch.

"Earlier I was jogging and I noticed a man following me with his car, he was taking photos of me. But when I tried to confront him, he said he knew what I was and then drove off"

"That's weird. It must have been just a gay pervert. Your new host is too hot, you will attract some creeps"

"You might be right" Anthony said looking down.

"And how are you dealing with Anthony's girlfriend?"

"She's driving me insane, Master. I fucked her last night to make her happy, while I was inside her I felt Sylo sending me an orgasmic mental link. Anthony came so fast while feeling what Sylo's host was feeling. His girlfriend thought he came for her, but he actually came for you, Master"

"Wait, are you hard right now?" Victor asked.

"No I'm not" Anthony responded, playfully covering his crotch with his manly hands.

"I think you are" Victor taunted "C'mon, show me"

Victor was shocked when Anthony uncovered his crotch, there was a dark wet patch on his pants. Yinx's made Anthony cum by just remembering the night before.

"You horny bastard"

"I can't help it, I wish it was me fucking you last night, Master. It's not fair that only Sylo can share a room with you. I would love to fuck you with my new meat"

"Aaawwnn, we can make that happen, Yinx. No need to be all jealous. I have plenty of ass for the five of you"

Suddenly, Victor felt his phone buzzing inside his pocket, so he grabbed it and saw a new message from David. It was a photo of him wearing only dark blue speedos while posing to a mirror.

"Wife is out with the kids, I'm all alone now. What do you think of coming over and having some fun? This host has so much more than just some hairy pecs, you need so see his hairy ass"

"I-I have to go now" Victor said.

Yinx's host nodded and Victor made his way to David's room, his heart raced with anticipation. He couldn't wait to have some fun with Echo's host. When he arrived at the door, he knocked softly only to realize the door was already open. David's deep voice called out, "Come in."

Victor stepped inside, taking in the sight before him. David was lying on the bed, wearing only a pair of dark blue speedos that did little to hide his impressive junk.

"Hey, David," Victor said, closing the door behind him. "Thanks for the invite." He walked over to the bed and sat down beside David, their legs brushing against each other.

"No problem, buddy," David replied with a sultry smile. "I've been looking forward to this." He reached out and ran his hand through Victor's hair, making the younger man shiver. "So, what do you want to do? I'm up to anything"

Victor leaned in closer, feeling the heat emanating from David's body. "Well," he began, "I've been thinking about that message you sent me..."

David smiled, his eyes glinting in the candlelight. "You mean about my hairy ass?" He reached down and took hold of Victor's erection, stroking it gently through his pants. Victor arched into the touch, unable to hide his desire.

"Yeah," Victor whispered, his heart racing. "I've been wanting to have more fun with you since I came on your pecs on the plane." He leaned in and kissed David, their lips meeting in a passionate exchange as Victor sucked on the married dad's tongue. Their hands moved frantically over each other's bodies.

As David took Victor's clothes off, a new idea began to form in Victor's mind. He glanced down at David's hairy chest and hard erection, and suddenly he had an image in his head. "I had an Idea" he whispered into David's ear.

David looked confused for a moment, but then Victor laid down on the bed with his hard member pointing up, and looked at David with a dirty look, who got the message right away...

"Oh fuck, yeah," Victor moaned, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. "That's it Echo, make this Daddy fuck himself on my cock." And with those words, the alien-controlled daddy began to fuck himself on Victor's hard cock ever harder. Victor opened his eyes to the sight of a burly hairy family dad squatting on his cock, he watched amazed as David's pecs bounced up and down with each movement. Victor grabbed each hairy pecs with his hands, sometimes he would pinch and twist the nipples. At one moment Victor even used David's nipples as a handle to guide the Daddy up and down. Soon they came together in a erotic, otherworldly union. As they reached their climaxes, waves of pleasure washed over them. Victor came inside the host, and the host came all over Victor. The room spun around them. David's breath came in ragged gasps, his hairy chest heaving as he clenched tightly around Victor's cock.

Slowly, they began to regain their composure and their breathing returning to normal. David pulled off of Victor with a satisfied sigh, his cock still hard and glistening with their shared sweat. He reached down and started to lick Victor's body clean, erasing any trace of cum.

"That was incredible," Victor whispered, his voice husky with desire "thank you, Echo." He leaned in and kissed David gently on the lips as he caressed the man's fur.

"My pleasure, Master" David replied, putting one hand behind his head "Anytime you want some more fun, you know where to find me. This brainless Daddy is yours to use."

They both shared a laugh.

_____________________________

Later that day, Victor walked back into his room to find Alexander talking on the phone. He was speaking in a strange language — was it Arabic? Or Turkish? Victor couldn't tell.

"Hey, Sylo, what are you doing on the phone? I thought I said to cancel your host's meetings for the week. You should be outside having a good time in your new body" Victor said.

Alexander muttered something into the phone and then muted it. “This host is much more important than you think, Master. He can't just disappear for a week. People will start looking for him" he growled, shooting a stern look in Victor's direction. Victor couldn't help but roll his eyes. Sylo was the most stubborn of the five bugs.

"Let them. It's not like they will suspect he's just a brainless empty husk for an alien bug now. You should be relaxing, not working"

Alexander suddenly tore his shirt off and glared at Victor with a menacing expression, making it clear that he was not amused.

Victor's heart raced as he felt a surge of adrenaline course through his veins. He knew Sylo was just playing pretend with his host's dominant personality, but still, seeing such a big muscular man giving him such a look would still make him sweat. Victor was still very much human.

"Why don't you use your slutty mouth to worship my muscles instead, while I'm doing real man stuff?" Alexander growled.

Victor's cheeks flushed red, but he couldn't help the surge of desire that coursed through his body. He looked at Alexander's muscles, meeting his intense gaze, and felt a strange sense of submission wash over him. Without hesitation, he sat onto Alexander's thighs and started to kiss and lick his chest, moving lower towards his hard stomach.

As he licked at the six-pack, Alexander went back to talking on the phone in a foreign language.

"Flex, please" Victor asked, and Alexander obeyed, flexing his right arm so Victor could grope and lick at the hard muscles, especially the biceps.

Victor then kneeled between Alexander's legs and unzipped his pants, fishing out the hard and thick 8 Inches member. He traced the outline of the shaft with his tongue before wrapping his lips around it and taking it deep into his mouth. Alexander let out a guttural moan while still on the phone, his free hand tangling in Victor's hair as he thrusted his hips forward.

Victor reveled in the power he felt in the moment, the power of sucking off a straight rich CEO that in his normal self would never even acknowledge his existence. He worked his mouth expertly, sucking and licking until he felt Alexander's climax approach, his body tensing and shuddering beneath Victor's expert mouth.

Finally, Alexander cried out in pleasure, his hips bucking wildly as he came, filling Victor's mouth with his seed. Victor swallowed every drop, relishing the taste of his friend's host on his tongue. As the intensity of the moment began to wane, he looked up at Alexander.

"You are such a good little slut," Alexander growled, his voice still heavy with arousal. He had ended the call when he started to orgasm.

Victor couldn't help but smile up at him. He had never expected to feel this way about one host, but there was something so thrilling about being called "a good little slut" by someone like Alexander.

"Now," Alexander continued, his voice taking on a commanding tone, "I want you to sit onto the bed and wait there. I have something special planned for you"

Victor was confused, but as if on cue, the door opened and Grus's middle eastern bodybuilder host stepped inside. Loking around the room Grus's host turned to Alexander. "You sent me a signal, brother?"

[staybabblingbaby]

Best Friend Protocol #14 (Team Meeting part)

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: You're Felix's childhood friend, and you and he have been planning a visit to see him for his birthday for what feels like years now. Unfortunately, SKZ is a very busy group, and the week-long vacation you'd planned for doesn't seem possible.Until Felix decides to ask his bandmates a favor...

Word Count: 2672

Notes: IT'S FINALLY HERE! ALL HAIL THE LEGENDARY FIRST WRITTEN PART OF BFP! I meant to have this out over a week ago, but it's here now! I will be attempting to get a regular chapter out here shortly to fulfil my promised 4 november chapters. Wish me luck! Huge shout out to one of my beautiful beloved betas, @brbwritingfanfic for taking the time to make sense of this damn thing lmao. I appreciate you spotting all my errors, you a real one <3 For those familiar with my archive style and curious, this is A3D2 for this chapter. It was kicking my ASS. If enough folks are interested I don't mind releasing the other attempts, but BFP is a bit divorced from the usual archive proceedings, so I'll leave that up to y'all. I actually really loved how Felix's character came through here, and i'm pretty pleased with how the dialogue turned out. My poor fiance had to sit through like 5 separate rants about how i could not roll back the details enough and kept having to scrap dialogue so it sounded less like AI attempting classical literature.

Warnings: She/Her Reader. Sort of? Polyamory negotiations. More like, the possibility is tossed out there.

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks

Additional Note: I'm always taking interaction requests. Just fyi

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The meeting goes something like this;

They pile into the living room of his and Seungmin’s shiny new dorm without discussion. It makes Felix both nervous and grateful. They’ve always had these meetings wherever Chris happened to be, before. It feels like an unspoken declaration of allegiance. Like they’re letting Felix take the lead, here.

The pressure is kind of getting to him already, as they all settle in. He doesn’t even know how he feels about it all himself, making a decision doesn’t seem like something he should be in charge of right now.

Still, he’s grateful. They’re being so mindful of him in this, and he kind of wants to cry about it. He feels seen, and loved. A bit too seen, maybe, but as embarrassing as it is he’s still a bit gooey inside about it.

Felix drags a beanbag over to where Hyunjin has settled on the couch, plopping down to lean against the other man’s legs. A hand automatically goes to bury itself in his hair, like an anchor against Felix’s stormy thoughts.

The grounding warmth of one of his best friends soothes Felix as Chris calls the meeting to order.  

“So!” Their leader casts an inquiring gaze around the room, “Who wants to start? Where are we at right now?”

A few glances are cast Felix’s way, but he tips his head back against Hyunjin’s knees to avoid their eyes. Everyone must get the message, because no one prompts him.

Jisung is the one who eventually bites the bullet, and Felix sends a silent ‘thank you’ to his birthday buddy.

“Well, I’d like to clarify everyone’s, like, goal in this?” Jisung puts forward tentatively, “Because I’m at the point where it’s more of a ‘I’d like to get to know her’ thing than a ‘I want to date her’ thing.” he shrugs to himself, “I haven’t talked to her much yet, I just think she’s cool.”

“I’m a little bit smitten,” Changbin admits from across the room. He gives Felix an apologetic grimace, but all Felix can do is wave him off with a worried smile. 

“We talked for quite a while the other day and, I dunno... We clicked? I guess? I feel like we did, anyway. I kind of want to see where that could go if we let it.” 

Changbin sends an almost appealing look to Felix as he speaks, and honestly? Super awkward for Felix right now.

Because, see, Felix’s first instinct is to get super defensive and shut everything down. He doesn’t really want to be talking about this, and it scratches at something delicate and boyish in him that they’re having this discussion at all.

It’s embarrassing to know that the feelings he’s kept so close to his chest for so many years are out in the open. It feels a bit like a betrayal that this meeting is about the fact that most of his friends have feelings for the girl he’s had a crush on basically his whole life, instead of planning how to get him to stop being stupid about said crush.

It’s just... Uncomfortable. On so many levels. An ugly monster wants to tear out of Felix’s throat as he locks eyes with Changbin, but a light scratch at his scalp from Hyunjin stalls the beast.

Right. Felix reminds himself that these aren’t any old friends. These aren’t just some acquaintances he could burn bridges with, or strange men he had to protect his angel from.

No, these were his brothers, the people he’d shed blood, sweat, and tears with. The men he’d lived with, grown with, the guys who’d seen more of him than any other person in the world.

Felix finds it in himself to spare Changbin a strained smile. He means it to be reassuring, but he’s so tangled up in his thoughts right now that it’s the best he can offer. The older man seems grateful for it anyway.

He turns his gaze up to Hyunjin, the catalyst of all this, and Felix’s current rock in the storm. He tries to keep in mind how much he loves these people as he moves the conversation forward.

He has to hear them out, at least.

“Thoughts, Hyun?” Felix gently inquires. 

Hyunjin briefly presses his lips together, gathering his thoughts into words. 

“I’ve been pretty open in my flirtation from the start, I think.” he finally says, “So I guess I’m more surprised that anyone else is? Surprised, I mean.”

Felix has to hand him that one. For all that his ‘no flirting’ rule had been mostly a joke, it did mean that he’d expected them to flirt with her. 

He wonders what makes things different now? He’d been okay with the flirting when he’d thought everyone was just joking around, has anything really changed now that he knows it’s real?

Felix sits with that thought while Minho throws his two cents in.

“I don’t think surprised is the right word,” their second eldest ponders aloud, “I’m personally more... worried about how this might work out.” He draws the words out slowly, like he’s tasting the flavor of them before he speaks.

It’s off-putting to hear Minho speak so cautiously- he’s usually so blunt with his words. 

“I’m more worried about how this will affect us as a group,” Minho admits, “I mean, I like her, she’s fun, but I don’t want her if it’s going to cause issues among us.”

And the older man has a point. Anything that causes discord in a group like theirs is a disaster waiting to happen. Especially something like this, where a misstep could lead to long-term resentments and jealousies.

Felix feels pressured by the group’s regard for him all over again. One word from him, and he knows it all ends. The moment he says he can’t handle this is the moment that the rest back off. The emotions won’t fade, Felix knows, but they’d do it anyways.

Because they love him.

He loves them right back.

“I really like her,” Seungmin pipes in, face blank. His eyes cast toward the floor for a moment, before rising again to meet Felix’s. “I really like her,” He repeats, “I don’t know that I would be okay with letting go without trying.”

Felix pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nods at the younger man. His head tips toward his lap while he thinks, brow furrowing as he loses himself to his tumultuous thoughts.

It helps to hear everyone’s feelings put so bluntly, Felix thinks. Having everyone’s stances laid out clearly like a map in his mind’s eye. 

Han, who’s not invested but interested anyways.

Changbin, who’s probably in deeper than he’d really like to be.

Hyunjin, who’d been open about his intentions from the start.

Minho, who the fact that he’s even considering her means more than Felix thinks the man realizes. And yet, he’d give her up at the first seed of discord among the group.

It’s kind of heartwarming, when Felix thinks about how much love their second eldest had shown them with those words. 

Finally, there’s Seungmin. A man whose compliments are hard earned, and whose feelings are closely guarded. A man who’d just handed Felix his heart on a silver platter, trust and love etched in every word, spoken and not.

Felix’s first instinct is still to shut them down. His clouded heart tells him to scoop up his angel and hide her away like a dragon with its hoard. To claim her as his and his alone, and feel slighted if anyone tried to contest that.

But that’s not fair. Not to his members and not to her. Not even to himself.

They’d shown him respect and care every step of the way, the least he could do is give them more than a knee-jerk reaction.

“Is it really all that complicated?” Jeongin ponders aloud.

Their maknae looks almost bored from his armchair, staring at them all. His furrowed brow gives away his worry, as does the way he allows Chris to pull him into the elder’s side with an arm around his shoulders.

“I mean, it’s up to her in the end, isn’t it?” their youngest continues, “she’s the only one that can really make a final call.”

“Could we handle that?” Felix finally speaks up. It’s a little scary having everyone’s attention snap to him like that, but this is the crux of the matter, he thinks.

“If she chooses one of us, could we handle that?” he elaborates.

A contemplative silence descends over the room. Felix kind of wishes he could peek into the member’s brains at this moment. He wants to know if they’re as worried as he is, if they’re worried about the same things he is. 

Because, quite honestly, the more he thinks about it the less he really minds if they flirt with his angel.

It’s taken him this long to untangle the ugly knot of emotions in his chest, and he still can’t see all of it for what it is, but the core of it all, he thinks, is fear.

He’s afraid that, at the end of it all, he’ll be left behind. That he’ll lose two of his very best friends, his favorite people in the world, to each other.

He doesn’t think he could handle that.

It’s an unjustified fear, Felix knows. His bonds with all of these people, the seven present in the room with him and one halfway across the world, are stronger than anything. Forged in fire and elastic with time, he’s sure there’s nothing that could ever truly break them.

That doesn’t stop anxiety from creeping up his spine.

Felix lets his eyes wander around the room, landing on each of his members in turn. It’s like something in him believes that they could guide him in this, just by looking at them, the way his gaze lands heavily on each of their forms.

Hyunjin’s hand drops from his head to knead at the base of his neck, and Felix feels himself soften. A little bit of the anxiety drains from him at the comforting touch, and with it gone he can see something new under the miasma of fear and uncertainty.

It’s bright, like hope, and a bit more exciting. A giddy little thought bubbles up with it-

“What if she chose more than one of us?” Han beats him to the punch. His eyes flick between them all anxiously, looking very much like the rodent he’s nicknamed for, and when he’s met with six confused stares and Felix’s suppressed grin, he starts to babble.

“I- I mean, we’ve all shared partners before. Like, sexually, at least. I just- I mean- We’re not strangers to sharing, is all I’m tryna say!” Han explains himself.

His shoulders rise up to cherry-red ears under the weight of their stares. Minho places a calming hand on his thigh, even as he pokes holes in the other man’s claim.

“We’ve never shared romantic partners though,” He points out, annoyingly reasonable, “That’s a completely different thing.” 

“I’d be willing to give it a shot,” Hyunjin shrugs when all eyes turn to him.

He was, admittedly, the last of them Felix had expected to back the idea. Hyunjin was the most romantic of them all, and the least likely to indulge one of them in sharing a partner or two.

“I love you guys, and I really like her,” Hyunjin states plainly, “I don’t see an issue with it.”

“So.. what? We try for, like, a.. polycule kinda thing if she wants?” Changbin questions. He scrunches up his face in concern at the concept, pointing out, “That feels a little unbalanced, doesn't it? Is it fair to hinge the whole thing on her?”

“It's going to hinge on her whether it's fair or not,” Jeongin interjects, “You all have crushes on her, not on eachother.”

“I just don’t know how comfortable I can be with that,” Changbin explains, “There’s one of her, and currently six of us. I don’t think it’s humanly possible for her to split her time enough for all of us, and it’s really unfair of us to expect it of her.”

“It could be a good thing, though,” Han argues, “None of us have the time to dedicate to a relationship how we should. Having more than one of us to turn to could be a good thing.”

“Okay, but you’re all forgetting something very important in this hypothetical,” Jeongin stresses the word, making pointed eye contact with his hyungs, “situation. She has to agree to it too. We can’t make a decision without her.”

Felix can't help but be proud of their youngest for reminding them of y/n’s place in all this. It’s not like they’d forgotten, but it was a good reminder anyway. It did feel a bit icky to be talking about their relationship with her like it was a foregone conclusion.

“I’m just saying!” Han proclaims, throwing his hands in the air, “It’s a possibility that we should be open to if it happens!”

Finally, Chris loudly claps to get everyone's attention and forestall any oncoming argument.

“Oh-kay!” he enthuses, “Let’s refocus. Show of hands, are we okay with everyone flirting with her if they want to?”

All hands go up, none of them opposed to anyone else shooting their shot. Felix pretends like all eyes aren’t on him as he easily raises his arm.

“Alright, next” Chris pushes on, “Do we think we can handle it if she chooses one of us?”

Hesitant murmurs sound around the room at this, but Felix has come to an understanding with himself during this meeting, so he speaks confidently when he says, “I think we’ll be okay.”

His words seem to reassure the others, and a ripple of agreement and gentle ribbing starts circling the room.

“Alright,” Chris nods to himself, interrupting the wave before they could get started with any mischief. He really does know them too well.

“And finally,” he starts, an indecipherable expression crossing his face, “show of hands, who’s alright with the poly thing if it comes to it?”

This subject is more divisive, Han, Hyujin, and Felix’s hands going up, but Minho and Changbin stay quiet with worried faces. Seungmin holds his arm out in front of him with his thumb held out sideways. When questioned, he just says he’s not sure how he feels about it yet.

“We’ll circle back on that later, then.” Chris decides, “I think that’s one of those things we need to be unanimous on.”

Agreements sound out, and the atmosphere relaxes. The evening quickly devolves into an impromptu game night, the group quickly descending upon Felix’s console games like a pack of hyenas.

Felix gets up to switch the TV over to his switch, intentions of strong-arming everyone into playing Mario Party in mind. Chris grabs him by the elbow as he walks by, nodding over to the kitchen. Felix follows him over, already unbearably fond. 

“You sure you're good?” Chris asks lowly, “You've been her friend the longest, and we quite literally thought you were dating her already for a while there. They'll back off if you ask, you know.” 

Felix nods, smiling softly at their leader’s care. “I'm good I promise.” he swears, “I meant it when I said I liked it when my favorite people get along.”

He turns to look through the doorway back at the living room. Despite the strange and personal nature of their conversation, jokes and laughter flow easily now. As if there was never any tension at all. 

Felix can feel himself practically melt as he looks at them, a sentiment he knows their leader shares.

“It would hurt,” Felix admits, “If she chose someone else. But there’s no one I’d trust to hurt me more, y’know?”

Chris doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t really need to. He squeezes Felix’s elbow gently as the younger dives back into the chaos, and Felix knows he’s been understood.

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[potatomountain]

CIY- CH 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍Summary: "Belonging" 📍WC: 3.6k 📍AU: detective/mafia 📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance 📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, some angst, mentions of emotional neglect? slight misogyny 📍Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @skteezcursed and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour 📍dividers made by: @cafekitsune

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“What do you mean talk?” You mumbled out, crossing your arms over your chest. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck which reminded you of the tattoos he had there. You swallowed, reminding yourself that it wasn’t uncommon for cops and detectives to have tattoos, you had some yourself. “I mean just that. We need to talk. I’m… well aware of how close you’re getting to everyone. Well, mostly everyone.” You still didn’t relax, instead you were bristling now. “If this is another warning to mind my business I-” “No no, it’s not that. It's pointless to try and keep you out of this now. But that isn’t going to stop me from worrying. Can I take you out to lunch? Have just a normal conversation about this? I’ll drop you off downtown today instead of Wooyoung.” He didn’t appear ready to tear you a new one or threaten you with a wad of cash to disappear like you half expected… the tea you’ve been hearing at the club was starting to get to you. This isn’t a k-drama.

“Okay.” You reluctantly obliged, letting your arms drop and reaching for your heels. Seonghwa reached out and grabbed a pair of leather boots instead. “You’re going to need these instead.” Skeptical, but not going to ask questions, you took the boots and pulled them on. Thankfully they still went with your outfit but you didn’t understand why the boots-

Until you were standing before a motorcycle and Seonghwa was holding out a helmet to you. Taking it, you watched with new appreciation as he pulled a leather jacket on. Somehow biker was not on the list of hobbies you thought he would have. In fact you hadn’t thought too much about Seonghwa in ways you liked to acknowledge, more often than not just admiring how fucking gorgeous he was. 

But that had changed since last week, when you were sure he had gotten off to what Wooyoung had done to you. He hadn’t shown interest before then, so it had sent your mind in a downward spiral any time you did think of him. Once more you were marveling at this new information about him as you pulled the helmet on, climbing onto the bike behind him once he motioned for you to do so. Where to put your hands was another thing.

Seonghwa didn’t hesitate, grabbing your hands and wrapping them around his waist, your mouth suddenly going dry as you realized how small his waist was.  You could hear his chuckle through the helmet, your body getting pulled with his as he leaned forward a bit to start the bike. Your chest was pressed firmly against his back, breathing hitched as you tried to just focus on anything else but him. Then you two were moving through the streets with ease, the heat and hum of the bike beneath you was as exhilarating as the wind on your bare legs and the ripple of his muscles under your hands. You wanted to feel it more, releasing your grip to sit up straighter, just to have his hand cover one of yours. He didn’t tug you back in place, but fingers entwined to keep you from going too far.

It was almost romantic, and you hated how it had your heart racing for a whole other reason than the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

In an attempt to get your bearings about you, you shut your eyes and just took in the moment, debating on just how much you could trust the man before you. His icy welcome, his attempts to control Hongjoong’s flirting, the way he refused to kiss you when Hongjoong did… But there was also the way he scolded Yunho the one time you had been late, telling him to be nice to you, when you knew he didn’t have to. His attempts at a truce, at keeping the peace, managing you and the others. But then there had been the gym, the practicing, his praise and encouragement when they first started opening up their work to you.

Could you confidently say that Seonghwa hated you? That he disliked you? Or had he just been trying to be protective over his friends? Tried to manage the hostility from the beginning and it just came off… wrong?

Lost in your head, the sudden stop had you hitting Seonghwa’s back with a surprised gasp, blushing under the helmet as his body shook with laughter. In an attempt to save face, you pulled your hands away and looked around. You were more uptown, still center city, but were outside a cute mom and pop cafe that seemed to have quite a bit of business despite the starbucks a few buildings down and a few other chain mainstream stores around. Stepping off the bike you took off your helmet, keeping your back to him since you still felt quite flustered. “This is where we’re eating?” “Yeah, this would be my favorite place to go.” Seonghwa hummed, taking off his helmet, not a hair out of place as he set both on the bike and secured them. “Do you like sweets?” You shrugged, watching him with as cool of an expression as you could muster. “On occasion, yes. I got my favorites. You like strawberry things right?” His eyes widened, lighting up with pure joy as he stepped closer. “So you pay attention to us too?” The charming smile on his lips disarmed you, finding yourself even more flustered. “Has anyone told you that you’re just unbelievably too pretty?” He laughed while you were gawking, a hand now covering your mouth at your outburst. Oh this felt dangerous. “Maybe. I could say the same about you though Angel.” He brought a hand to the small of your back, guiding you inside. Oh hell, you were speechless. It took every ounce of brain function to take in your surroundings, what you thought was a simple cafe was a bakery of sorts, but there were tables filled with all sorts of people eating lunch and sweets or just enjoying a coffee. Simple things like sandwiches, cakes, melon bread and more. Despite the busyness, it still had a homey feel to it with the decor, the staff, and just the general vibe. There was nothing you could give your full focus to that would keep you distracted from Seonghwa standing next to you, his hand on your back a constant reminder as well. This felt too cozy, he felt too comfortable with you. And after what had happened the last time you saw him? After what happened yesterday? You felt too charged up and vulnerable and he was just seeping into you through the cracks.

“What would you like?” He dipped into your field of view, expression friendly, almost innocent with the wide glossy eyes and sweet smile, a stark contrast to the outfit he wore that oozed sexiness. It caught you off guard, you had never seen him with such an… open expression in your presence before. “Um… surprise me?” As if you could focus on food anyways. Your nerves lit up in all sorts of ways.

He whistled appreciatively, nodding with enthusiasm as he quickly rattled an order off that, to your own ears, sounded like something you would order. His earlier words came rushing back: So you pay attention to us too?

The breakfast order that had been on your desk before. The notice when you had been late. You had chalked it all up to San but didn’t Yeosang scold Wooyoung to get you food you liked? Why did what you like to eat matter to these men? That wasn’t something you needed to pay attention to if you distrusted someone, if you wanted to keep them at bay.

But didn’t you also know Seonghwa liked strawberry things? That he admired his Captain and that it was probably more than a work relationship? You knew how San took his coffee, knew Yeosang was a genius with computers and that he had a cute lisp that always brought a smile to your face.

The more and more you thought of it, the more your face dropped, eyes widening. Seonghwa’s hold suddenly tightened on you, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw and force you to face him. “You know, sometimes it’s easy to read you like an open book. Does it frighten you that we pay such close attention to you?” You shook your head slowly, answering without even thinking about it. It was true, you weren’t scared at all by the attention: but by how much you liked it.

What if this ends up like S.K all over? You fall for one or a few of them, and then once you no longer fit their way of things, they would just toss you aside like Chan did? Panic swiftly washed over Seonghwa’s visage as he began to dab at the tears gathering in your lashes. “Angel. Angel, it's okay. This isn’t a bad talk. I’m not chasing you away or putting down boundaries. Not trying to scare you.” How soft he was being just had your throat tight with the need to sob. “I’m going to�� find a seat.” You mumbled under your breath, afraid to speak up more as you turned and searched for a table. There were really only two, both right next to each other, and you sat at the one against the wall, facing the wall so that the rest of the crowd would not be able to see it if you broke. What the fuck was wrong with you? Had the week away from the others fucked with your brain? Deteriorated your walls to keep them at bay? You couldn’t trust them.

Right?

Or was it just the fear that if you did, you would get hurt again?

You couldn’t believe yourself. You weren’t afraid to get shot, stabbed, run over by a car if you had to do so for your goals. Your career had always been the focus of your life, following in your father’s footsteps. He was forced to retire after getting severely injured stopping a serial killer, now a retired detective who climbed up the ranks before recently retiring. Detective work had been his life, and by extension, yours. That was who you were, who you pride yourself on being. A damned good detective, an enforcer of justice and protecting the innocent at the cost of your own life. So why the fuck were you about to sob in the middle of a lunch rush in an unfamiliar cafe just because you realized this unit was worming their way into your heart, and it was beginning to seem mutual. Why the fuck did it scare you to get close? Chan couldn’t have fucked you up this badly? Was it the betrayal of them all? Your loyalty should be to the job, not the unit. But did that make you like Chan? Loyal to the job, not your emotions.

Everything was so messed up. The tray of food and drinks getting set down in front of you startled you, gaze flashing up to meet Seonghwa’s concern. His brow scrunched together further at the look on your face. “We have a lot to talk about it seems.” “I- Vice what is this talk about?” Work. Just focus on work. “Well, you mostly. How you’re adjusting to the unit. To everything that’s happened. I know a lot of what happened is not… normal. And we haven’t been treating you right either.” He handed you the drink and sandwich, then set his in front of him. Immediately he started sipping on the strawberry drink, some of the whipped cream smearing on his upper lip. Once more you were thrown for a loop. “I don’t- fuck is this a wellness check? Does my well-being really matter here?” Seonghwa nodded without hesitation, long tongue flicking out to clean up the cream, the glint of the piercing short-circuiting your thoughts. Oh fuck, him too? “It does matter. And not just because of the job. You want to be a part of this unit right? You want the respect, the trust, the bond we have?” His lips curved into a wry smile, watching you for a moment before he leaned forward, reaching out to cup your cheek. Your emotions, your desire for what he said must be so obvious on your features. “Angel… has anyone made you feel like you belong before?” It shattered you, his words.

There were times you thought you had it, but did you? Chan? No, he chose the unit, the rules. Minho had even scolded you many times, backing up Chan, becoming a second voice to him as opposed to as your best friend. Hyunjin might have that spot, and truthfully he felt like the only one who loved you as you were. Unconditionally. But even he had said that he wasn’t right to be by your side, saying you belong elsewhere, somewhere more. Seonghwa swiped your tears away. “We’ve been so cruel to you haven’t we? And yet you’ve been fighting tooth and nail to prove yourself to us. You fit well in your undercover work, you fit well with us. Wooyoung sings your praises daily, and Yeosang’s reports only have good things to say about your work. You work so hard Angel.”

His words felt like a warm, comforting blanket that encompassed you but also shook you to your core. You could remember so clearly getting accepted into the police academy, graduating at the top of your class and immediately rising through the ranks as a uniform. And in all of those moments had your father been proud? No, he just expected you to do these things. Your mother harking you whenever you had troubles “If you had been a boy, you’d be better at your job. You’d be more like your father.” Had you ever made them proud? You had blossomed under the praise Chan gave you when you first started, doing everything to seek it out. Until you realized how unjust some of the cases were. Then most. And his praise usually was followed with a scolding. And it resonated with you. Those kids, those cases, facing unjust rules that they couldn’t do anything about. Like you. Hadn’t Yeosang said that before? You had everything to prove, and nothing to lose. “Seonghwa…” Your voice croaked as you leaned into his hand, staring up at him with a new found vulnerability that seemed mirror in his sweet brown eyes. “I want to be an equal. I do want to belong.” He smiled softly, stood up, and leaned over to press a kiss to your temple. “Alright Angel, I hear you loud and clear. Now, tell me honestly how you feel.” He sat back down and pushed the sandwich closer. “After you eat and catch a breath. The questions are mostly about the… sexual encounters and tension so I want you prepared.” Heat flooded your cheeks, but you nodded and listened. You had, for the most part, been going with the flow of things, refusing to talk about the underlying emotions because, as he just pointed out, you had been too busy trying to prove something. To prove your worth. Was it actually possible that they really did see it? That some of them did at least, and that the others might?

Were you actually seen, accepted, and equal? He was nice enough to let you sit with your thoughts as you ate, focusing on his own food and watching for your reaction to your first bite. You saw the relief flood his features when you clearly liked it, swallowing and smiling softly. Seonghwa seemed as eager to please as you were, it seemed. The meal quickly calmed your nerves, getting comfortable with the realizations he had come to, and making more as you did. That’s why Yunho’s vulnerability had meant so much to you, while Wooyoung’s honest desire slipped past your walls so easily, and why you could understand their apprehension of you so well.

Even, you dare say, sympathizing with Jongho. He had his reasons, you were sure, and you knew just how hard it was to trust after being hurt.

Now the sex- that was the topic of discussion once you swallowed the last bite and Seonghwa was now returning with a second strawberry drink, with impossibly more whipped cream. It was cute, until his tongue flicked out and scooped up a generous amount. His tongue was long, and considering what was about to be discussed, had you thinking some questionable thoughts about it.

“So, let me make sure I know everything that has happened so far- and please, do not get upset that I know about these things, I’ll explain that alright?” You nodded as he squared up his shoulders, the professional aura surrounding him showing how serious this conversation was, but there was no judgment, nothing alarming about his posture either. You mirrored his posture, knowing that yes, this is a serious thing. It was sex in the workplace, and, if you were being honest, it was more than that. “It started with the club, which technically you did amazing with, but I can’t say that your shared kisses with Yunho and Mingi were just a part of your cover. They don’t see it as just a kiss, which I’m sure you’re aware of by now considering what happened with Mingi. There is also, from my understanding, what happened in the gym? Which… San should’ve been honest that we have security cameras in there that Yeosang has access to.” Your cheeks burned at the idea that Yeosang had seen what San did to you, but it also was relaxing to know it wasn’t San who spilled. That did bring up the urge to talk to Yeosang about it, apparently he really liked to watch you get off? That didn’t necessarily upset you either. “When was it brought up? What happened in the gym?” “When Mingi came in sporting hickies. He didn’t have any targets scheduled for the weekend so we had to question. As you know, any connections have to be known to the rest of us. And it’s not just because of our work. Wooyoung’s hinted at it, you’ve had a few glimpses as well… We have something that… that a majority of people would consider wrong or disgusting, but I don’t think you would. This isn’t like an offer for you either, but so you can understand what you might be getting into.” He continued, brow furrowed as he seemed to search for the right words. Especially since you were now smiling at it seemed to throw him off. “It’s a polycule right? Or well, of sorts. I sort of figured it out, though I had never known about it beforehand. Yunho sort of explained last night but I learned the term from some of Haru’s girl’s. They like to yap my ear off since I apparently have Haru’s approval.” He sighed with relief. “Yes, that’s pretty much it. Sex is a casual thing between us, though not all of us sleep with all the rest. I think Wooyoung would be the only one?” You laughed at that. “Oh I can see that. I swear he didn’t turn the camera off on purpose.” You pointed out and Seonghwa’s smile turned pained. “Yeah, probably not. He enjoys being watched, and you… well he wants you to be one of us. Has been set on it since the beginning. And no matter how much of a little shit he can be, he’s got the best damn judge of character, and we all trust it wholeheartedly. Plus…” Now it was his turn to get flustered, the tips of his ears red. “He knows us well.” With a tilt of your head, you urged him to continue. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well… he left the camera on not just for himself, but because he knew we wanted you. We want you. The only one I can’t speak for is Jongho but, Angel, being equal and part of our bond would mean being a part of what we have, and while most of us want that, we would never force it on you. It can be just sex and work for now, or whatever you need it to be. Just on one condition?” For the most part, you were shell shocked. He said it wasn’t an offer but it was clearly there, to an extent. But he was also emphasizing that there was no pressure to be a part of it. “What’s the catch?” “No matter how deep you get, I need you to talk to me about things. If it ends up being too much, if you have doubts, if you’re struggling with others. My job in the unit and in the polycule, is to take care of everyone else. To keep the peace, and help resolve conflict. Can you do that for me? Can you trust me enough for that?” You mulled over his words, staring him down as he now fidgeted with his hands, barely noticeable if you weren’t looking for some tell that this was a lie- but that tell was simply that he was nervous, maybe even a little scared. Scared you wouldn’t trust him.

“I trust you Seonghwa. And I agree to your terms. Thank you for trusting me with this.” You reached over and placed a comforting hand over his, watching him visibly relax. Mentally, you were cursing yourself, scared this was going to end just like it did last time: trusting people, thinking you belong. It was too late to turn back though, wasn’t it?

Taglist (Capped): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

| @philijack | @lelaleleb | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames

| @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630

| @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @iwishiwasrichasfuck

| @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 8) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.3k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Angst; Arguing/Fighting; Some Crying; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake tell Bradley about the baby.

Series Master List

Master List

A.N. Two chapters in one week! Hope that you guys enjoy Bradley’s reaction!

A pin could have dropped in that moment and it would have sounded like a bomb went off in Maverick’s house. It was that silent. 

Bradley’s face was slowly growing red with anger, though he didn’t open his mouth. Yet. After a brief staring contest with your brother, you pulled Jake further into the house. Bradley was burning holes into Jake’s head and Jake was returning the sharp look with a sense of defiance that was not going to be productive in the long run.

You glanced up at Emma, who was staring at her husband with concern, and then Maverick, who was looking between Rooster and Hangman, like he was waiting for one of them to jump at each other. Holding in your emotions and trying to keep up a face of calm despite the tension, you turned back to your brother. 

“Bradley,” you started off with carefully, “you can stop glaring at Jake now.”

“So, the whole ‘nothing is going on between us’ was a big fat lie then?” Bradley asked rhetorically, turning to look at you. 

“Maybe we were worried that you would be hostile to the news,” you commented in return, staring down your brother for a moment. When he scoffed at your answer, you added, “Clearly we were wrong.” 

“Is this some kind of joke?” Bradley continued, causing you to purse your lips together. 

“No, it’s not. It’s real.” 

Bradley turned to Maverick, who turned to him with a rather stoic expression. Maverick glanced over at you and Jake, not judging but not necessarily overly supportive either, before turning back to Bradley. Frowning, Bradley turned back to you and Jake, who hadn’t moved to release your hand. 

“And when the hell did this start?”

“Around the time that you guys got back from your last deployment,” you lied, taking the lead on the questions. 

“You’ve been hiding this for five months?” 

“More or less.” 

“More or less?” Bradley repeated with an attitude. 

“Should we start dinner then?” Emma cut in, grabbing her husband’s shoulder with a sharp squeeze. “Before it gets cold?”

“Yes,” you agreed with Emma. 

“Great,” she replied, walking around and quickly grabbing all of the knives off of the table in quick succession. “We won’t be needing these today.”

The five of you sat down at the table and passed around dinner. Rooster continued to glare at Jake and Jake was very happy to return the glare. Maverick kept an eye on them as he was sitting in between them, but you weren’t fully convinced that nothing would happen.

Jake and Bradley had a history of being volatile around each other, and you just raised the stakes. And you were only going to raise them even higher. 

“Aren’t you going to ask us how we met, Brad?” you questioned, causing your brother to turn to shoot you a look.

“Of all of my teammates, of all of my squads, of all the guys in the fucking world, you had to pick him?” Bradley scoffed, gesturing to Jake, who narrowed his eyes at Rooster’s comment. “The only one that I specifically told you to stay away from.” 

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” you replied, returning your brother’s look. 

“Did you ever think that maybe there was a reason why I told you to stay away from him?”

“Am I not allowed to make my own decisions? Am I not allowed to have my own opinions on people?” you scoffed, leaning forward in your seat. “And just because someone has a problem with you, that doesn’t mean that they have a problem with me too.” 

“Fine, then I’ll ask you, Seresin,” Bradley stated, turning to Jake, “Why, out of all of the girls in Miramar, were you going after my sister?”

“Why did you go after Emma?” Jake asked rhetorically. “We found each other attractive and we had some stuff in common.”

“What the hell could you possibly have in common?”

“We both think that you’re overreacting right now, to start off with,” Jake replied, causing Maverick to sigh and reach for his beer. 

“And what’s your favorite trait of my sister?” Bradley asked, narrowing his eyes. “Since you know her so well.”

“She takes what life throws at her and keeps moving forward with her chin up. She doesn’t let anyone or anything slow her down for too long.” 

Emma nodded, quite honestly looking impressed with Jake’s answer, while Bradley only continued to glare at Jake. You quietly let your heart flutter a bit in your chest but you kept your gaze on the ground. Maverick, glancing between Jake and Bradley, decided to take the lead for a moment. 

“When did you two actually meet and get together then?”

“We met for the first time at Brad and Emma’s wedding,” you started off with, sharing a look with Jake as you reached for your water. “But we didn’t really talk too much.” It wasn’t too big of a lie, but maybe a stretch of the truth. “Then we talked a lot the night that you guys came back from your last deployment and started going out a little while after that.”

“Well, I have to ask,” Rooster drawled sarcastically, “who made the first move?”

“I did,” you replied simply. 

“You did?” Bradley and Maverick asked at the same time, both looking surprised. 

“Yes.”

“You did?” Bradley repeated. 

“Are you going deaf?” you countered, straightening up more. “Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“Bradley,” Emma sighed, rubbing her face. 

“Because I was attracted to him,” you explained, not quite having the courage to look over at Jake while you spoke. “Is that a crime?”

“No, it’s not,” Emma replied to your defense. 

“It’s a concern,” Bradley stated, earning a look from his wife. 

“Anyways,” you cut in, “we’re dating and we’re going to move in together.”

You hoped that breaking it piece by piece would help ease Bradley’s reaction and avoid an explosion. And you really just hoped that your calculations weren’t too far off. 

“You’re moving—do you even know him!?” Bradley snapped, causing you to roll your eyes at him and lean back in your seat. “You can’t just move in with a guy you just met!”

“We’ve known each other for over a year and we’ve been dating for a few months,” you replied calmly. “It’s not like we’re teenagers who don’t know what we’re doing.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes,” you snapped back defensively.

“Who’s apartment?” Maverick asked, causing you to turn to him.

“Jake’s for now,” you stated, glancing at Jake from the corner of your eye. 

“Why?” Bradley scoffed.

“It’s nicer and my lease is up first.”

“Why the rush?” Bradley pressed on, feeling that something was off with the whole situation.

“When you know, you know,” you replied, dodging the question.

“That's a bullshit answer.”

“It’s still an answer,” you scoffed right back at your brother.

“Who’s idea was that then? The whole moving in together one?”

“Mine,” Jake answered honestly. 

“Of course, it was,” Bradley replied, finding some new ammunition against Jake. “And why did you—the guy who told me at Coyote’s bachelor party that he wasn’t the type to settle down and have the ‘white picket fence’ life—suggest that the two of you should move in together after dating for five months?”

“Bradley,” you snapped, though it lacked substantial force behind it. 

You weren’t sure if the comment that Bradley was referring to actually came out of Jake’s mouth or if he actually meant it, but either way it was taking you a moment to process. You did the math and remembered that Coyote’s bachelor party was during the time where you were ignoring Jake. Maybe that had a role in it? But you didn’t want to dwell on it in front of your brother and Mav. You had to stay focused. 

“And how long was your most serious relationship again, Hangman? Last you told me, it wasn’t even a year.”

“Stop being a dick, Bradley,” you replied, this time with more force. 

“Honestly, do you really think that this is going to last?” Bradley directed at you, causing you to narrow your eyes. “Where do you see this relationship actually going?”

“Why don’t you just wait and see, Rooster?” Jake drawled, drawing Bradley’s glare to him. “Because I’m pretty sure that she can figure out what’s right for her.”

“Or what’s right for you?” Bradley countered. “Because those are two different things, Seresin.”

“Bradley,” Emma called, trying to ease the tension a bit more, “let her make her own choices. You telling her that it’s a bad idea isn’t going to lead to the result that you want.”

“Thank you, Emma,” Jake spoke up, causing Bradley to roll his eyes dramatically.

“You seriously think that you see a long-term future with him? Like marriage? Kids? All of that shit?” Bradley questioned you again. 

“Yes, I do,” you spoke so quietly that no one really heard you. 

“What?”

“Yes, I do,” you said louder despite the fact that your leg was starting to nervously bounce. 

“You’re serious?” Bradley demanded of you, almost scoffing in disbelief. “You didn’t marry Connor and you were with him for five years and you’re telling me that you’ve spent what? A couple of months with Hangman? And you can already see a long-term future with him?  That you’re already moving in with him? Really?”

“Bradley,” Emma warned him. 

“You’re such a fucking asshole!” you snapped, getting to your feet. 

Maverick called your name, trying to keep the peace, but you ignored him. Tossing your napkin down onto the table with a huff, you rounded on your brother. 

“And you wonder why I don’t tell you shit! Stop acting like you’re a goddamn saint, Bradley! You’re not! You never have been! I’m not the only one who can mess up! We’re both screw ups! We’re both fucked in the head! And Mom would be so proud of us and how we turned out, wouldn’t she!?”

Letting the tension roll off of your shoulders, you slowly sank down into your seat, the reality of your words hitting you. Not because you felt bad about what you yelled at your brother, but because of where your thoughts suddenly landed. 

Staring down at your hands for a second, you tried to discreetly wipe the tears that leaked from your eye before they got too far. Rubbing a tear between your finger and thumb, you felt Jake’s hand on your thigh, silently reminding you that he was there. 

You hadn’t really dwelled on how your mom would have reacted to the news about the baby, if she was still alive. You didn’t let yourself, actually.

After your mom died and definitely after Bradley left you behind with Maverick while he figured out his own life, you really buried all of that. You didn’t let yourself think about what your mom would have said or thought in these situations. You locked it all up and buried the key.

She would have had an opinion, certainly. She probably would have had some sharp words with a sweet Southern coating that would have struck far more fear into Jake than anything that Bradley could throw at him. But she was the type to give a hug out as quickly as a threat, so you assumed that all would have been forgiven once she knew he was serious.

And you realized with a shaking hand that you desperately wanted your mom there with you. She didn’t even get to see you in a prom dress or have a crush, for hell’s sake. 

Sharing a glance with Jake, who looked concerned for you, you slowly turned back to Bradley. Your brother’s anger was gone for now, his expression mirroring Jake’s own concerned one. But you had a feeling that you would see the anger slowly seep into his gaze again shortly. 

“You want to know what’s really going on?” you asked, staring down at your hands.

“Of course, I do,” Bradley replied immediately. 

“Alright,” you began. Picking up your head, you locked eyes with your brother. “I’m pregnant.”

“You . . .” Bradley paused, looking like his brain short circuited for a moment. “You’re . . .”

“Yes,” you confirmed, nodding slowly. 

You got up from the table and grabbed your purse. Rifling around, you pulled out your ultrasound photo and moved to hand it over to Bradley. He took it carefully, still stunned, and when he saw your name stamped in the margin of the photo, he knew that it was true. 

It wasn’t a joke—you were pregnant with Jake’s baby.

You held your breath a bit, waiting for him to react and gripped the back of the seat tightly as you stayed standing. You could also see Maverick and Jake on the edges of their seats, waiting for his reaction. Bradley silently held out the ultrasound photo to Emma, who took it from him carefully, before turning back to Jake. 

And then you saw the flash. 

“You son of a bitch!” Bradley roared, leaping to his feet. 

Chairs clattered and scratched against the floor as Jake and Maverick jumped to their feet too. Emma was yelling after her husband and you were calling after Jake, though when you moved to grab him, Emma pulled you back a step. Maverick put himself in between Bradley and Jake, keeping them separated with a hand on each of their chests. 

Rooster was boiling with rage, looking madder than a bull, and Jake appeared firm in the fact that he wasn’t going to back down. Maverick certainly had his work cut out for him. 

“You got my little sister pregnant, Seresin!?”

“And your little tantrum doesn’t change that!”

“I don’t care, you fucking bastard!”

“Bradley, stop!”

“Do you even love her!?” Bradley demanded from Jake. “Do you even care about her!?”

“Of course, I care about her!”

“Then why did you get her pregnant!?”

“I didn’t mean to do it, it was just something that happened!” 

“Bradley, stop it!” you shouted at your brother. “Jake!” 

“Are you even going to stay around to meet the kid or are you going to leave them hanging?” 

“Bradley!” 

“Both of you need to sit down now,” Maverick snapped, somehow managing to hold them apart. “You’re stressing her out!”

“He’s the one stressing her out!” Jake scoffed, glaring at Bradley. “She’s been worried about you reacting like a toddler for weeks!”

“Jake!” 

“She’s stressed because you knocked her up, you moron!”

“Bradley, stop it!”

“Sit down!” Maverick snapped, but neither Bradley nor Jake seemed to be willing to back down. 

“You’re not her fucking protector! She’s an adult, Rooster, for fuck’s sake!”

“I know her and I know that I’ll be the one consoling her when your ass gets cold feet, Seresin!”

“ENOUGH!”

The argument stopped immediately and everyone turned to where Emma was standing at the other end of the table. She certainly wasn’t the most imposing woman, but she had the ability to make her voice thunder across the room. And if her voice didn’t strike fear in them, her glare definitely did. 

“Now!”

Though he didn’t look happy about it, Bradley stepped back from Maverick and begrudgingly retook his seat. When Jake didn’t move from where he was standing, Emma pointed aggressively at his chair and wore an expression that screamed ‘try me bitch.’ Letting out a quiet mutter, Jake sat back down in his chair. 

“Now, the two of you are going to sit down and have a conversation like adults because you’re two grown ass men and not children.” Turning to Rooster first, Emma asked, “Is your support for your sister or your niece or nephew going to change depending on who the baby’s dad is?”

“Of course not,” Rooster replied defensively. “In this case, it’s only increasing it actually.”

“And Hangman, are you going to let what Bradley thinks about you change how you feel about her or the baby?”

“Absolutely not,” Jake stated, staring down Rooster with a challenging expression. 

“Good, so you can both agree that your first priority is making sure that she and the baby are happy and healthy?” With sharp nods from Jake and Bradley, Emma continued, “Good. Now figure your shit out like adults.” 

“Thank you,” you breathed out, pulling her in for a tight hug that she quickly returned. 

“Anytime.”

Emma gave you a tight hug, shooting both Bradley and Jake a look to be on their best behavior. Jake eventually let out a quiet chuckle as he turned back to Rooster. 

“Guess we know who wears the pants in your relationship,” Jake commented with a smirk, causing Maverick to shake his head. 

“I’d look to your right there, Hangman.”

Jake turned his head to find you shooting him a sharp look. Emma laughed to herself when Jake suddenly appeared sheepish about his comment.

Rooster rolled his eyes again and looked at his hands, actually taking the time to process the news. He turned to share a look with Maverick before looking over at you, to find that you were looking at him with a quietly terrified expression as you clung to Emma for a moment. Letting out a breath, he slowly got to his feet. He walked around the table towards you, completely ignoring Jake, and stopped a few steps away from you. 

Emma released you and moved to put herself in between Bradley and Jake, just in case. Bradley gave you a moment before he swallowed his annoyance and his pride and focused on your happiness for the first time since he found out about the whole situation. Though he also didn’t want to completely lie and pretend like he was overjoyed with the news.

“The storage unit,” Bradley began, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“What about it?”

“It has the old paintings that Mom made,” Bradley continued, earning a slow nod in return from you. “From our old nursery.” 

“I remember,” you agreed quietly. “I triple wrapped them myself so that they’d be preserved.” 

“Did you want them? For you and . . . your baby?” Bradley offered after a few more moments of silence and tension. 

You nodded slowly, starting to tear up again, when Bradley reached forward. Pulling you into a hug, Bradley rested his head on top of your own as you let out a few tears into his shirt. It reminded him of when you were little and he’d comfort you when a storm struck or when you were scared for your mom. He gave you a squeeze that you returned silently. 

“You’re going to be a mom,” he replied quietly.

“You’re going to be an uncle,” you returned in the same tone. 

“You know I’m here if you need anything. Emma too. We’re both here for you and the baby. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I’m not.”

Bradley opened his mouth, but when he saw Emma’s look, he closed it. While your face was still tucked into Bradley’s shoulder, he looked over at where Jake was still sitting at the table. Did Jake look thrilled? No, definitely not. But he didn’t look completely irate when he met Bradley’s gaze. Bradley, however, did not hide the fact that he still wanted to punch Jake in the face for what he did. 

“Whatever you need,” Bradley repeated as he and Jake glared at each other.

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[icarusflewsworld]

Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 14 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

Thank you for readings, I love you guys ❤️❤️

Feel free to tell me what you think about the direction the story is taking! Thanks for reading, voting and for your comments. You brighten my day.

! Don't forget to read the previous chapters ! : Here

Enjoy the read !

Chapter 14

Azriel half-opened his heavy eyelids with difficulty. He noticed the room in which he had locked Luxiana yesterday without really seeing her. He repositioned himself a little more comfortably on the wall where he was leaning, his buttocks a little numb from the cold, hard floor he was sitting on. Then, suddenly, he realized. Luxiana! He scrambled to his feet, breathless and heart pounding in his chest. He searched the room frantically for his soul mate.

Then he froze, seeing Luxiana on the bed, in the same place they'd left her yesterday. He could release the air he'd been holding in his lungs, relieved, his shoulders sagging. She was on her back, her face half-covered by her hair, and the drool dripping from the corner of her mouth made Azriel smile gently. Even like this, she was cute. Her arms and legs were at dubious angles, and one of her hands was flat against Cassian's face, which was sleeping as soundly and similarly as Luxiana beside him. 

He grimaced. That bastard. He was so close to Luxiana. Luckily, he hadn't taken advantage of the night to take her in his arms and hug her. Well, maybe that was why she had a hand on his face, because she'd pushed him away. 

Then he looked down and noticed Rhys, on the floor beside Luxiana, lying full length on the ground, completely asleep.

He frowned as he ran his hands through his hair, watching the room a little more for a threat. The sun was fully up, and the warm yellowish rays streaming through the bay window confirmed to him that it was already late. His eyes widened. Had he slept all this time? Had they slept that long? 

He couldn't believe it. He had slept. He usually had great difficulty sleeping. The voices of his shadows, although he was used to them, and whatever else was still bothering him, usually prevented him from doing so, but here, he'd just felt so good. He'd been so reassured to know Luxiana was by their side, and the fact that his shadows had fallen silent, he'd dozed off deeply. 

He glanced at Rhysand. He was sleeping well too. It was crazy. In the last few weeks, thanks to their new bond, he'd felt all the times Rhys hadn't been able to sleep because of his worry about Luxiana, but he'd also felt the nightmares he'd had that distressed him greatly. But now Rhys was sleeping peacefully. Was he as reassured as he was to know Luxiana was by their side?

Azriel winced. They'd been foolhardy to sleep at all. Anything could have happened. Luxiana could have run away again, foolishly endangering her life as she had done so well last night. 

He took a deep breath, then let it out as he dropped onto the wall behind him and slid down to sit up again, but the clanking of his weapons and armor made more noise than expected. Rhysand and Cassian awoke suddenly, straightening up at once, tense and on guard. They looked left and right, ready to fight, but frowned as they remembered where they were. 

"Everything's fine," Azriel said to his two brothers through their telepathic link, not wanting to wake Luxiana, who was still snoring softly. "We just fell asleep."

"Asleep?" repeated Cassian aloud, still confused as he stared at the sunbeams streaming through the bay window.

"Shut up, you'll wake her up," Azriel ordered him, then glanced at Luxiana. Her hand, which had been resting on Cassian's face, had fallen on the mattress when he had straightened up, but she hadn't even felt it. She still hadn't moved. He smiled, at first relieved, but then a worry gripped his gut. She was such a heavy sleeper, it could be so dangerous for her. 

Rhysand cast a puzzled glance at Azriel, who nodded in agreement. “We slept really well," affirmed the shadows singer. "It's past noon."

Rhysand's eyes widened, and he glanced at Luxiana. He'd been so reassured to know she was close to him that he'd fallen asleep. But he hadn't had a single nightmare. He hadn't had one in a long time. He ran his hands over his face to wake himself up, and as he moved he realized he was in his combat gear. So were Cassian and Azriel. They'd slept in those uncomfortable clothes, even with their shoes on. It was crazy. 

After what had happened yesterday, Azriel had rested on the wall on the left side of the room so as to have his eye on Luxiana, the bay window and the front door. Rhysand had then lain on the floor on that side too, jealous of the closeness she had with Cassian in the same bed. And he hadn't even had time to think about what had happened before he'd fallen asleep. Cassian hadn't lasted long either. He'd watched Luxiana sleep, finding her so pretty, before he himself dozed off without even realizing it.

Rhysand turned his head to Luxiana and smiled as he saw her asleep, hair matted, facial muscles relaxed, sprawled like a starfish on the bed and half on top of Cassian. She looked so cute. 

Cassian, still seated, shrugged his shoulders and grinned in acceptance. He'd slept really well and was ready to do it all over again. Especially as the bubble of vanilla perfume surrounding him and emanating from his soul mate calmed him so powerfully that his heart felt as if it had stopped beating. He lay back down and turned towards Luxiana, tucking his wings behind him. He detailed the landscape of tangled hair and drool that offered to him with a smile. He remembered when he'd opened his eyes that night and seen her curled up in a ball under the blanket Azriel had laid over her. She looked cold and he'd wanted to warm her, so he'd reached up to wrap his wings around her body but, without even waking up, she'd pushed him away with a firm hand on his face. And her palm hadn't left Cassian's face all night. 

The army commander's smile widened. She was his soul mate. He could see his brothers in his field of vision, and he noticed that they were staring at her too. In any case, the feeling of peace, tenderness and comfort he felt in his chest wasn't just Cassian's. It was their soul mate. It was their soul mate. "How are we going to do this?" he asked through their bond.

"How are we going to do what?" replied Rhysand, deflecting her eyes towards him just as Azriel did. 

"When she will love us. Will we have to make a schedule so that each of us can take turns spending the night with her? It’s horrible to think that" A ball of stress and apprehension crushed Cassian's stomach, and the same feelings arose in Azriel and Rhysand. "Will she even want this? One of us is already a lot for one woman, so three for the same one, will she want this? Will she put up with all three of us? Will she even be able to unite with three people? Does the ceremony foresee such a possibility? Will she have to marry just one of us? What about sleeping with her? We've never shared the same woman in bed, so how do we ...?"

"That's enough," interrupted Rhys, "calm down. We'll sort it all out in due time. She doesn't like us yet anyway. Let's take it one day at a time and try to get her to like us first, then we'll see. Besides, given her character, I'm sure she'll sort things out on her own." Rhysand said this, but doubt was also eating him up inside. He'd been asking himself all these questions every second since he'd met Luxiana.

Cassian nodded, relaxing as he took a deep breath. Rhysand was right. Their soul mate was no slouch, and she'd probably manage all three of them just fine. She already did. He returned his gaze to Luxiana and smiled. It would worth it to give everything and fight for her, he was convinced. She was his mate, after all. He reached up to brush the hair from her cheeks, stroking the skin of her face with his fingertips. "My bed would be big enough to receive all four of us. Maybe I'd always known we'd share the same soul mate."

Rhysand smiled wryly as he sat cross-legged. "I swear, if we come to sleep in the same bed for her, if either of you get too close to me or to touch me, especially if you're naked, I'll disintegrate you."

Cassian and Azriel burst out laughing, trying to be as quiet as possible despite everything.

Wanting to get closer to her again, Cassian slid in her direction, but the bed was far too small and limited his movements. He wanted to try again to take her in his arms. He grabbed Luxiana by the hips to turn her towards him and bring her close enough to fall asleep again for hours, but his soulmate grunted. 

Azriel rolled his eyes, cursing his brother by their bond. "Cassian, I'm going to break your fingers, let her sleep."

Luxiana, without even opening an eye, pressed both palms and both feet flat against Cassian's abdomen to push him away. And she remained in that position, bent in two and still completely asleep. Cassian couldn't help himself and burst out laughing loudly. 

"Cass," Rhysand scolded to make him stop laughing and not wake up Luxiana, but it was too late.

The blonde sat up suddenly, letting out a cry of frustration. She grabbed the pillow behind her to press it against Cassian's face with both hands, surely hoping to smother the brunet with it. But Cassian laughed even harder. The Illyrian gently pushed back the cushion and Luxiana, not wanting to murder him just yet, decided to pull it away. She struck Cassian's thigh once with it, then returned it to its place behind his back. She ran her hands over her face to wake herself up, then crossed her arms, detailing the three Illyrians and their positions. "This isn't the best way to wake me up, you know," she growled in a broken voice.

Rhysand smiled wryly as he slowly rose to his feet. He looked down at Luxiana from his heigh for a moment as she stared at him intently. He leaned towards her, "what's the best way to wake you up then?"

Luxiana swallowed hard, lost for a second in Rhysand's beautiful violet-blue eyes before squinting, remembering that she was angry with them. But why was she already? "Not to," she replied coldly as she lay back down, curling up into a ball with her back to Rhysand. 

Cassian laughed softly.  "Are you always in such a bad mood in the morning?"

Luxiana muttered through her teeth. "Only when you're the one who wakes me up." 

The three Illyrians grimaced as they glanced at each other. Either she was always in a very bad mood in the morning, or she was still angry with them. Rhysand huffed, resting her buttocks beside her soul mate on the bed.

Luxiana, feeling the mattress in her back sink, closed her eyes a little tighter as she moved back, sliding further until she couldn't, coming into contact with Cassian. She preferred him for the moment. 

Azriel jumped to his feet and approached the bed, ready to move away Cassian and Rhysand, who were oppressing his mate. Azriel understood that she couldn't be enjoying this too much. He understood that when you're a young woman, you can't necessarily be very reassured by the presence of two unknown men so close to you in a bed. But Rhysand spoke. "We'd like to apologize.”

Azriel stopped a few steps away from Rhysand with some surprise. He'd never seen him apologize for anything before. To apologize was to admit his wrongdoing, and Rhys was the high lord; he couldn't afford to do that, it would have denied his authority. And when Cassian had spoken of making amends to their soul mate, Azriel hadn't thought those words would be uttered by Rhysand. But they had been. He smiled. Rhysand had put aside his pride and his role for their soulmate. He was a good man. He was reassured to know that Luxiana would be treated well with her two brothers too. He was happy to know that relations with his brothers would take a whole new turn thanks to Luxiana.

The blonde, completely taken aback by Rhysand's words, jumps to sit straight, startling the three Illyrians. She leaned back against the headboard and crossed her hands over her thighs. She looked at Rhysand with an attentive and serious face. "Why?" she asked slowly, in a drawling voice as she squinted her eyes. 

Rhysand glanced at Cassian and Azriel, and the three of them smiled softly, realizing that their future words could determine the rest of their relationship with their soulmate and her behavior towards them. "For interrupting Feyre's wedding and behaving like cads," continued Rhysand, gazing into his soulmate's electrifying blue eyes. 

Luxiana frowned for a second. Was he sincere? Was the high lord of the night court apologizing to her? For real? "Really?"

"Oh we can promise you we really blame ourselves, yes," Cassian smiled as he straightened up and leaned on the bed in the same way as Luxiana.

Luxiana glanced at him sideways, wary. "Why did you do it then?"

Rhysand took a deep breath, he didn't want to lie to her too much so he inspired from the truth. "Yesterday we learned something very... disturbing and..."

"What have you learned?" she asked, inclining her head and detailing the fae lord with piercing eyes. 

Azriel and Rhysand glanced at each other. Cassian laughed softly. "Someday you'll find out, believe me."

She crossed her arms, puckering up her face and settling a little more herself in the mattress, making the Illyrian smile triple. "And then what?" she sought to know more.

"And so," Rhysand continued, trying to regain a modicum of seriousness.  "As a result, all the decisions that were made yesterday were hasty and made in anger. Like the one where we decided to go and get Feyre to return the favor she'd promised."

"Which is?" she interrupted him again.

Azriel crossed his arms, glancing half-closed at Luxiana. "He could come to it if he wasn't interrupted every two seconds."

Luxiana gave him a dark look, which Azriel returned.

Rhysand placed his hand on the young woman's cheek, then forced her to turn her head towards him and take her eyes off Azriel. He wanted her to see how sincere he was. "We decided this on the spur of the moment, thinking it would be a good idea, and went straight for Feyre. We really didn't think we'd be interrupting her wedding."

Luxiana loved the contact of these three Illyrians far too much. It turned her inside out so much that she couldn't even think straight. When she spoke, her voice was weak, uncertain and a little too high-pitched. "Despite how much you hate Tamlin, you still wouldn't have interrupted his wedding?"

Cassian blew out a laugh. "We would have interrupted him in other circumstances but not here, not knowing he was marrying your best friend and certainly not knowing what she means to you." 

Luxiana's eyes widened as she stared at Cassian before her cheeks flushed violently. "Liar," she said, lowering her head. 

Azriel felt his heart pounding against his ribcage. She was so cute.

"We don't lie, I assure you," Rhysand said, shifting his hand from Luxiana's cheek to her chin to catch her jaw. He raised his soulmate's flushed head to him. 

She looked at Rhysand with doubt. She wanted to believe in his sincerity, but the massacre they'd made at the wedding wasn't erased. "Why do you need Feyre, or me, or anyone?"

Rhysand straightened his back, letting go of Luxiana and putting on a serious face. "Time is running out to neutralize the cauldron and prevent Hybern from destroying the wall. We must save the humans and to do that we must find the second part of the book of breathing. We already know it's in the summer court, but despite our many searches, we haven't been able to find out exactly where it is in the summer court. So we have to go there, locate it and steal it. And that's where we need someone. We're going to need all the help we can get to find that part of the book. And it's because of all this that we were in such a hurry. We hastily decided yesterday to stop searching and get on with it. It was a bad coincidence with Feyre's wedding."

Luxiana frowned. Part of her wanted to believe him, and to believe the glint of supplication that shone in his eyes. He seemed to really want her to forgive them. But another part of Luxiana, her logical, thoughtful part, which was putting all the events together and analyzing them, was screaming at her that something was wrong. That there was something the Lord wasn't telling her. 

Even so, she had to admit that his story made sense and could be true. After all, it could really be. She wanted to believe them. She liked them. Besides, it would make sense, that's why they needed a woman, to seduce the lord of the summer court and make him tell her where he'd locked the book. She could do that. "I can do that," she affirmed, nodding seriously. Everything that had happened at the wedding had been terrible and she was still a little upset, but Rhysand was right, time was running out. Now she understood why he'd done it in such a hurry, so she blamed them a lot less. But the doubt lingered in the blonde's mind with a bitter taste in the back of her mouth. What if they were lying? But why would they lie to her? She had nothing to offer them that they could possibly want. And in any case, she'd know in due course whether what they were saying was true or not. "But why didn't you talk to Feyre about it in that case?"

Rhys smiled wryly, she was clever but he'd planned everything. "Because this mission must remain secret, we can't compromise it... there were a lot of people at the wedding and a lot of people we don't trust. That's why we didn't say anything. But when we will be in possession of the second part of the book, we'll talk to her about it."

"And why didn't you let me say goodbye?" She insisted. She intended to get to the bottom of the whole affair. 

Azriel huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why the hell was she so relentless? "As Rhys said, we were on edge. We acted without thinking and seeing all those people, it surprised us. We just wanted to get away as quickly as possible."

Luxiana took a deep breath, then lowered her eyes. She finally had answers to her questions, or at least she could settle for that for now. But it didn't help her solve her problem. She needed to contact Feyre or see her to reassure her. She knew her best friend was worried sick about her. She thought Rhysand was cruel and was probably torturing her. She just wanted to reassure her. Living in anguish would hurt Feyre and she didn't want that.

Rhysand noticed the gleam of concern and disappointment in Luxiana’s eyes. "Is it that important for you to see Feyre?" 

Luxiana simply nodded, her mind elsewhere, already imagining hundreds of plans per second to contact Feyre.

"Then we'll take you to see her. Whenever you want."

Luxiana raised a wide-eyed look of surprise at Rhysand before both her pupils began to glow brightly. "For real?"

"For real?" repeated Azriel just as surprised as Luxiana. He had clenched his teeth and his voice was wheezy. Luxiana was also his soul mate and he had something to say about it too, but Rhysand didn't seem to care. He didn't want his soul mate to get too close to Lucien again. He was going to have to have a talk with Rhysand. He had to learn to share all things concerning his soul mate, including decisions.

The lord glanced at Azriel before returning his gaze to his mate and nodding, more than happy to see that dazzling smile on her face again. 

Luxiana let out an exclamation of delight as she passed Rhysand and leapt to her feet. She didn't really believe in Rhysand's kindness, but wanted to find out if he had something on his mind or if he just wanted to please her. And either way, she intended to benefit from this moment to see Feyre. "Now then! Let's go now! I'm going in the shower!"

Cassian, who had crossed his hands behind his skull, watched the scene with tenderness. He would love to see this kind of scene every morning. Seeing his mate bickering and talking with his brothers. His heart was doing strange things in his chest, but it didn't seem wrong. 

Just as she was about to pass Azriel, he caught her by the arm, immobilizing her with a single blow. She gave him a confused look, but Azriel pointed at her. "We'll go on one condition."

Luxiana inclined her head to let Azriel know she was listening, and to encourage him to continue. 

"You don't touch Lucien, if he touches you you push him away and you don't get closer than three steps to him." he said in a growling voice.

"Four," Cassian accented, nodding in agreement with Azriel. 

"Four steps," Azriel then modified. "Is that clear?"

Rhysand huffed, casting dark, reproving glances at his two brothers. They mustn't let her think she was their soul mate, she'd get scared and intimidated, but Azriel's jealousy was stronger than that. Rhysand hoped Luxiana had no idea.  

The blonde frowned so much her forehead hurt. "What's your problem with Lucien? He's really..."

Cassian jerked to his feet with a growl, "If you're going to speak out about oh how wonderful you think Lucien is, I'm out of here, it'll be without me." He started for the door, but Azriel stopped him by raising a hand.

He caught Luxiana's chin in his grip, turning her head toward him. "It's none of your business what's wrong between us and Lucien. We're allowing you to see Feyre, but we've set a condition in exchange, so we expect you to respect it. Is that clear?" Azriel gritted his teeth. He didn't like talking to his soulmate like that, but he was so jealous, so angry, that he couldn't contain his dry tone too much.

Rhysand squinted at Azriel. He was seeing a whole new side to his brother thanks to Luxiana, and he'd had no idea he was so dominant and authoritarian in his relationships before now. He knew that the three of them were having a hard time dealing with all the amplified emotions they were feeling, but Rhysand, though deadly jealous, would never have forbidden his soulmate to approach anyone. But he said nothing; he knew it was better for everyone if she stayed away from Lucien. And despite that, a bad part of him was reassured to see that Azriel was like that. A bad part of him was reassured that he'd have that role in the relationship and that he'd make sure their soul mate didn't get too close to any other man. But he'd keep an eye on him. He wouldn't let him stop their soul mate from living.

Luxiana smiled as she tilted her head, glaring at the Illyrian who held her attentively. She was determined to find out what was wrong between them and Lucien. She didn't like taking orders, but part of her appreciated Azriel's authoritarian behavior. This time, she intended to stay away from Lucien until she'd got to the bottom of the whole thing and got to know the three Illyrians a little better. After all, as much as she liked the redhead, she didn't really care whether she got close to him or not. He was only her friend. And the important thing was Feyre. She shrugged. "If you like."

Azriel released her slowly, and Luxiana wasted no time going to the bathroom. He watched her walk away with a mixture of emotion in his chest. She'd shrugged her shoulders as if she didn't care about Lucien, and his whole body lightened at the realization, but it wasn't the answer Azriel would have wanted. He would have liked her to tell him that Lucien was nobody to her. But at least she wouldn't go near him. Azriel was so afraid that Luxiana would realize that Lucien was better than him, better than them. 

"Luxiana," Rhysand called to her as Luxiana went to close the bathroom door. She turned to him with a questioning look. "We'll wait for you in the hall" 

Cassian and Azriel glanced at him half-surprised, half-furious, but Rhysand paid them no mind. He had no reason to keep an eye on her now that she'd not run off to see Feyre like they were going to see her now. And he was giving her some space. He didn't want her to be sick of them already. "There are clothes in the closet," he added feverish to see her in his colors, "please, help yourself."

Luxiana nodded and closed the bathroom door. The three Illyrians reluctantly left the room. The three of them were really going to have to have a talk, especially as they didn't want to behave in the same way with their soul sister.

[kenziebluex]

The Broken Heart That Makes Us

Story Description: 

Your arranged marriage is on its last legs. After making an agreement with your step son, Megumi, you are puzzled when you are faced with finally making a decision.

Your whole life so far has been planned for you, leading you to struggle with the idea of moving on and finding something stable…someone stable.  

Will you finally be able to let go of the life that was made for you? Will there be others out there willing to pick up the pieces?

(18+) Pairings: Toji, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, & Choso.

Chapter 1:

“Mom” Megumi said, knocking me out of my own thoughts.

“Are you okay?” 

That question was a hard one to answer. Leave it to Megumi to read me like the back of a book. We are currently on the way home after you picked him up from Jujutsu High. His last class ended at 4 and unfortunately you  didn’t make it to pick him up until 4:30. You got stuck in traffic after having a long argument with his father. If you were counting you  would say that it’s the 10th argument you have had with him this week and it’s only Wednesday

Releasing a quiet sigh you put on the same mask you always wear for Megumi.

“Yea I’m okay, how was class today?” you quickly reply, giving him your biggest smile while nudging his arm from the driver's seat. Since he recently turned 14 years old you have allowed him to sit in the passenger seat from time to time. Mostly when you pick him up from school so the other students don’t find some reason to pick on him. Megumi isn’t the most social so you do everything in your power to not be that embarrassing mom that refuses to let their kid grow up. If it was up to you he would be 14 years old forever.

 “Good..” he answered hesitantly like he had more to say. You can see him chewing on the string of his hoodie, something you know he does when he's nervous. 

“Anything else?” you question hoping he will give you a hint as to what he's thinking about. You never push but right now you are worried it’s something serious. 

“I have a tournament on Friday at 6pm.” Megumi muttered quietly.

You let out a sigh in relief that it isn’t bad news. He had you worried there for a second. Megumi has been in martial arts since he was 12 years old. You were hesitant to let him join at first but realized that you did feel better with the thought of him being able to defend himself. He fell in love with the sport and since then you have been his number one supporter attending all his events and taking him to all his practices. 

“You remember what we talked about right mom,,..I just need to know if you are serious because I am?” suddenly you begin to feel uneasy. You hadn't forgotten but maybe you just pushed it down so you wouldn’t have to think about it. You and him had an agreement, both of you frustrated with the treatment they were receiving from his father.

It wasn’t an easy decision and you have been putting it off for over 4 years now. That was until it started affecting Megumi's mental health a few years ago. Megumi was diagnosed with acute depression and was placed on small doses of medication to help with his anxiety. While he got the help he needed from a psychologist you still haven’t done your part and you knew what needed to be done.

“If he doesn’t come we have to move on.” Megumi whispered and you could feel him looking at you from the passenger seat.

Flashback

You can remember the day clearly. The day you were set to be wed to Toji Fushiguro.  When you got the call from your parents it was October 20th and you were walking into work. That morning you recall the leaves were falling from the trees at an extreme pace as the wind picked up rapidly around you.

Entering the office you were met by numerous stares and hushed whispers. You couldn’t make out many of the words but you remember hearing “married” and “Fushiguro”. You remember thinking to yourself that Fushiguro was the last name of the mafia leaders that your dad just represented in court. Your firm had managed to secure this case and it was an important one to a lot of important people. This was a case that went on for a year and lucky your firm was able to win. You didn’t think your parents would be alive right now if they failed. Even so you had no idea why everyone was looking at you.

Your questions were answered as soon as you walked into your fathers office. You were met with not only your parents but 2 middle aged men in suits along with a small boy that couldn’t be older than 12. 

You recognized the men as Toji Fushiguro and his father who you could recall having the last name Zenin. You only recognise them because they were a part of the many mafia leaders on trial that got off. You were aware of Toji having a son, who you assumed was the small boy standing next to him. 

Toji was nice to look, 6'2 but his height wasn't what you were focused on at the moment. It was his almost perfect face.

“Excuse me dad, you called me into your office, did you need something?.” you cut to the chase feeling uncomfortable standing in the room. You felt as though you were interrupting an important conversation and didn’t understand why your dad would call you into his office early in the morning. 

“Yes, gentlemen this is my lovely daughter I was telling you about” my dads voice boomed in the room as he guided me to sit in an open chair facing Toji. You could already tell by your fathers  voice he was coming up with some terrible idea. You were used to him trying to be flashy and show off to his colleagues and clients so you figured this time was no different. 

“Does she know about the agreement?” Toji said with a look not fazed by my fathers antics. 

“What agreement?” I said slightly, raising my voice looking to my father for an answer. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Toji shaking his head and his father looking unamused.

“Watch your mouth.” my father started his explanation. “You are to be wed to Toji, we have entered an arrangement with the Fushiguro/Zenin mafia. In exchange for winning the case his son would give us the honor of marrying my only daughter. We also will be greatly compensated for entering the family.” 

If you had a bottle of water you would drink it just to spit it out.

“Like hell I am” you said laughing while sitting in the chair holding your stomach from laughing so hard. What did he think this was some fucked up mafia romance novel. You knew your father was crazy but not this crazy. 

It took you a minute to recover from that mini laugh session. Tears of laughter were falling from your face. You felt a tap when you recovered that caused you to look up. You were met by the small boy in front of you holding out a water bottle. 

“My mom used to give me water when I would cry” he said in a quiet tone. 

“Thank you… what’s your name?” you said, taking the water from his hands gently. He looked very timed and you felt as though you didn't want to frighten him. 

“Megumi” he whispered while moving to stand back beside his dad. 

“Daughter, I'm serious. You are 20 years old and never had a boyfriend. You had your choice to marry wealthy. Our family could benefit substantially from this ordeal, plus you will also be greatly compensated.” my dad said with a stern voice. I used to be scared when he would use that tone of voice. You went to interject and curse him out but his next words stopped you in your tracks.

“I’m not giving you a choice here, the papers have already been signed”

What does he mean the papers have already been signed. The last time you remember signing anything was several days ago when he asked you to sign an agreement paper for him….

“You said that paperwork was so I can take lead on the next case” you said feeling deceived and knew you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up of your father seeing your true potential. 

“Technically you will still be lead on the next case” your father said chuckling to himself. 

At this point you were left speechless. You didn’t know what to do. 

You thought of crying, thought of yelling, hell you even thought of throwing something in the room. You looked around at your surroundings but stopped when you landed on Megumi's face. 

He looked terrified. Why did he look terrified?

It hit you as soon as the question popped in your brain. He was terrified of you. Megumi was scared of how you would react and for some reason you didn’t want him to be scared of you. 

Taking a deep breath you addressed the room at once. Your tone of voice cold and stern.

“When?”

Flashback Over

Since that day you and Megumi have been joint at the hip. You got married to Toji 6 years ago and the marriage has been one of the hardest things you have gone through in your 26 years of life. 

You were wed by the end of the week after having that meeting in your fathers office. The wedding was a large wedding with over 300 guests that you didn’t know. At the time you didn’t know just how wealthy the Fushiguro/Zenin mafia was but you found out that day. The venue was decorated beautifully and the itinerary was laid out nicely even though you had no say in any of the schedule or the  decorations. You were practically treated as a guest at your own wedding. 

The Zenin’s provided you with a money compensation that you have kept saved away and have only spent on Megumi’s education. You enrolled him in the finest institution to make up for the fact that he had to deal with this fucked up situation. 

Now that you think back on everything it happened so fast and life has passed you by quickly. You were still married to Toji and living in his two bedroom apartment with Megumi. Toji managed to blow through his money gambling resulting in you guys downsizing in the last few years. You offered to pay for a better living arrangement but he declined your offer. He said he preferred smaller living. 

Not that it mattered because he doesn’t return home most of the time and if he does it’s late at night. Even though Toji’s family has money and you were both compensated for the arrangement he continuously blames you and Megumi for him not being able to ‘work’. You know what he means when he says ‘work’ and you suspect that he is already taking up odd jobs which has resulted in more arguments this week. 

Focusing back to the present you realize that you have arrived home. The lights are on so you assume Toji is still inside and you just hope he has calmed down from the argument earlier.

You and Megumi get out of the car to head inside. Picking up trash in the front of the entrance as you make your way up to the 4th floor. 

You just hope for peace for the rest of the night.

✿❀○❀✿

You don’t know why you stay.

Entering the apartment you aren’t shocked anymore by the scene in front of you. The living room table and the kitchen island you just cleaned the morning before was dirty. You only left out a few hours ago so it only took less than 4 hours for Toji to create the mess. Magazines and beer bottles on the table and carry out food containers left on the kitchen island. In the corner of the living room table was a gun along with a knife and several cigarette packs. At least he had the nerve to use an ashtray for the cigarettes. Sighing loudly you tell Megumi to head to his room noticing that the boy is already moving to head that way. Just like you, he is used to a routine whenever Toji is home. 

Your body moved like it was on autopilot. You quickly looked under the cabinet for trash bags to dispose of the empty items that he left along with the magazines. Toji reads them when he's here but you notice he never takes them when he leaves. They always end up staying on the table unless you throw them out. 

The gun and the knife were another story. You accidently threw out a small knife one time by accident when you were cleaning and Toji made it his mission to remind you of it constantly that night. He was mad and in the end it resulted in you and Megumi having to get a hotel for the night to get away from the constant yelling.

“What is wrong with me?” you question yourself outloud. You should have left a long time ago and when you found out the contract expired a few weeks ago you promised Megumi that you would take him with you. You hadn’t known that the marriage contract you ‘signed’ was only good for 5 years. So while you were still married to Toji the mafia argument that binds you guys together was no longer valid. You could get a divorce finally but when it comes to the custody of  Megumi that's a different story. 

Toji knew you were planning to divorce him. He actually pre-signed the papers last week stating that he would be gone before everything was even finalized. You were nervous to even bring up the conversation of taking custody of Megumi. Would he even care?

Focusing back to the living room you stare at the clean space. Everything was clean and clear except for the gun and knife. You didn’t know what to do as you didn’t want to touch the items. You were out of gloves since the last time you had to clean blood off of a towel Toji left on the couch. 

Not wanting to leave it there, you realized you had no choice but to wake up Toji. 

Walking to the master bedroom you turned on the hall light before peaking into the bedroom. “Toji” you said weakly hoping he wouldn’t hear you. 

“I’m not sleep”

“And if I was that weak ass whisper of my name wouldn’t have woke me up.”

You roll your eyes pushing open the door to enter. Your eyes adjust to the dim light and you are met with Toji laying on his back scrolling on his phone. The thick black cover is only pulled over his mid sections and his shirt is thrown on the floor next to the bed along with his slippers he occasionally wears indoors. His abs are on full display and his black hair has grown out, making his bed hair look messier. Even though you and him don’t get along, you have eyes, he looks like a finely made roman statue. 

“Can you please get the gun and knife off the table so I can go lay down peacefully?” you said trying your hardest to be nice for the sake of Megumi in the other room.

“Why can’t you just move it?” he replied, smirking while leaning up on his elbows causing the blanket to slip off his lap. 

“My eyes are up here ma.” he continued smirking at your obvious display of checking him out. He knows he looks good which doesn’t help.

“Cut the shit, I don’t know what you have used those for. Just move them so Megumi doesn’t see them.” you gave up on being nice. Toji makes it so difficult for you to remain calm. 

“Megumi this Megumi that, a little gun isn’t gonna scare him he grew up around it.” stated Toji laying back down on the bed. 

“Please Toji.” you sighed out walking further in the room. He looked over from his phone getting a better look of you. You could see his eyes taking in your black and red sundress you rushed to throw on earlier while you were rushing out. He must have thought of something because next thing you know he’s sitting back up.

“Where were you going to lay down?” he asked, looking me over. 

“The other room.” you answered. Even though he already knew the answer. Anytime Toji was present you choose to sleep in Megumi's rooms on an air mattress you guys kept for times like this. It was easier so that you could actually get some rest. 

“I’ll make you a deal. Come lay with me and I'll move the gun.”

“Fine” you gave in too quickly like you always end up doing. That's how you find yourself laid out on the bed with a half naked Toji above you. 

Toji started leaving kisses down your neck moving slowly. He loves to tease. It's been so long since you have hooked up with each other. You were sure Toji finds company in other people but you on the other hand don’t have the time or energy to venture out. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

“Get out of your head ma,.. think later” Toji muttered while taking your left breast into his mouth. He moved further down your body leaving several marks, he always leaves marks. By now you are whining and tugging on his head trying to move him further down to where you need him.

“Toji stop teasing.” you beg resulting in him biting hard on your right thigh. Drawing a sharp hiss out of your throat. 

“Was that an order babe?” Toji said, looking up from in between my thighs. He’s in that kind of mood today. You could tell it was going to be a long night. 

“No.” you say, turning your head into the pillow next to you while he adjusts your legs over his broad shoulders. A stutter left you at the movement. 

“Look at me” he said. Turning back and looking down you were met with a sight that always makes you weak. Toji had such an intense look on his face his eyes shined with a look of hunger. His once brown eyes looked to be black. He turned back to the task at hand knowing that your eyes wouldn’t leave him.

He left a couple more kisses and marks on your thighs and legs before burying his face into the middle of your legs. Your legs shook as he swiped his tongue over your clit before moving to fuck you with his tongue. His nose is now grazing your clit as he tongue fucks you. 

“F-fuck, please” you practically scream. You would be fucking into his face if it wasn’t for the fact that your legs were over his shoulders. 

Toji always ate you out as if he was starving. His mouth and tongue never missed anywhere grazing over all the sensitive parts of your pussy.You felt like you were floating every single time. It was always messy because he loved to take his time. He loved to make a mess of you. 

“Please, please–” you were holding his hair at point, being careful not to tug. You know if you did he would stop and you didn’t want that. You were practically crying which you knew was one of Toji’s favorite things. 

“Please what doll?” he said looking into your eyes, mouth wet and you can see his tongue licking at his bottom lip getting more of a taste of you. 

“Can I cum please Toji?” you asked as you could feel a couple of tears fall onto your check. By now he has been eating you out for over 30 minutes and you have given up on acting like you didn’t need him inside you.

“Hmm,,.not yet only after you have been good to me” Toji said, moving up from the position he was in. He was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Get on your knees doll.” he ordered. You could barely feel your legs as you got off the bed and kneeled between his legs. You hadn’t moved quick enough for Toji because you felt his hand firmly gripping your hair tugging you closer to him. 

“Suck me” Toji said, looking down at you. He hadn’t removed his sweatpants yet but you know what he wanted. 

You placed your lips on the outline of his dick. Sucking and licking at the cotton as if it wasn’t in the way. He groaned several times lightly pulling at your hair while grinding into your face. While he was patient with you when it came to his pleasure, that was a different story. 

Toji stood up pulling his sweatpants down while still keeping a firm grip on your hair.

“Ahh, wait-” you were cut off by him practically shoving himself down your throat. You were extremely wet now and knew you had to be leaking onto the floor. He was choking you on his cock which caused more tears to stream down your face. 

His hips moved pushing him deeper in your throat while his hands worked to control your head. You could feel the tip of his dick in the back of your throat. 

Toji was well endowed and if it wasn’t for you being with him sexually for the last 6 years you knew there was no way you would be able to take him this deep. He knew this and reminded you from time to time that he has ‘trained your throat’ for him. 

The sounds in the room were deep groans from Toji and moans from you that could be heard only when he slipped out of your throat. You could tell by his movement that Toji was close. Groaning his hips jerked and he slipped back, tapping his wet cock against your tongue. 

“Fu- Swallow it” he stuttered in between his higher pitched groans. He was moaning at this point. Surely enough he emptied in your mouth without giving you a chance to take a breath until he was done. 

As you went to swallow you were yanked to stand on your legs by your throat. He had a firm grasp on your throat that almost caused me to choke. He pulled me in front of him so you only had to glance up some to see his face. 

“Now swallow” he said, his hand not leaving your throat wanting to feel you swallow his load. You swallowed looking him straight in the eyes as you did. Your eyes were still teary and your legs were weak as you stood in front of him. That seemed to not be enough for him. 

“Open” he said in almost a whisper tone. Grazing his hand against your lips he looked as if he was holding himself back to not lose control. His eyes remained black and his expression didn’t give away what he was going to do. 

Toji gently grabbed your face with his other hand while you opened your mouth, remembering to keep eye contact. He leaned down and spit directly in your mouth. Hand still around your throat as you swallowed his spit. His spit tasted like cigarettes and you can smell the beer strong from his mouth. 

‘Smack’ his hand lightly smacked your face while he spit in your mouth again. The slap wasn’t hard but it still made a sound that echoed in the room. 

“I told you to stop thinking doll, it’s okay i’ll help you relax” Toji said walking you backwards until you fell on the bed with him on top of you. 

“Do you want me to make you cum?” he said, teasing his fingers at my entrance. 

“Please, y-you promised.” you sobbed at this point needing him inside you. You felt wet and empty and knew that the only way you would get relief is if he was inside you. 

“Promised?” he chuckled, slipping two fingers inside of you. He never starts with one knowing you will open right up for him. 

“Hmm.” he hums. 

“I don’t remember making that promise.” Toji moved on to tease your clit while his two fingers continued pumping into you at a slow rate. You were moaning into your hand while you were almost riding his fingers at this point. If he stops you, you might die.  

“I’m tired, maybe we should stop for the night doll.” he said, not looking tired at all. You knew he was testing you to see what kind of reaction he could get out of you. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but you needed to cum. 

You moved from under him pushing him on his back so you were now on top of him. Your legs were still shaking but you moved on and you were on your knees hovered over him. 

Reaching behind, you grip his cock lining him up with your entrance. You let out a gasp as his throbbing member entered you. You forgot that Toji doesn’t need much of a recovery after cumming, his second rounds always last longer. You might have taken on more than you can handle. 

“I found the papers you had in the bedside drawer” he said, giving you one of his flashy smiles while he leaned back with his hands behind his head.

What papers? The only thing you had in the drawer was…. Oh shit

You freeze up, not moving scared of his reaction.

“Don’t stop now doll” Toji grabbed my waist moving my body up and down slowly on his cock. 

“If you do a good job i’ll sign them for you” he casually said watching your boobs move up and down because of his actions.

“You promise?” you choked out feeling tears threatening to escape your eyes. He gave you a look like he was searching for what to say. His black eyes looked like their regular  brown color as he sat up so you two were face to face. 

“I promise.” Toji whispered into your lips kissing you for the first time tonight. You can’t recall the last time you guys kissed. This kiss was passionate and you were right about his breath smelling like beer but now you were fully tasting it. You weren’t used to this kind of emotion from Toji. You didn’t even compete for dominance just wanting to feel him close to you. 

The room was filled with moans and cries as you rode him into oblivion. Motivated by him signing the papers but you were also feeling an urgent need to make this memorable. Something was telling you that this was the last time that you would be able to feel him.

 You couldn’t tell who came first but you felt it as Toji filled you up. You thanked  yourself for starting birth control recently. 

When you caught your breath you moved to clean yourself up leaving Toji in the room. You took a shower in the bathroom using hot water to relax your muscles. After washing you glanced at yourself in the mirror. 

“Jesus.” you knew Toji left plenty of marks but you looked like you had been mauled. 

Leaving the bathroom after changing into one of your night gowns you were stopped in your tracks. Toji was now lying under the covers curled up on the right side of the bed. The lamp was on by the desk and while you walked over to turn it off you noticed papers and a pen sitting on the table. 

Picking it up you realized he had actually signed it. Toji signed the custody papers giving you full custody of Megumi. 

You couldn’t help but let out a soft sob. At this point you didn’t know if you were crying tears of joy or sadness. While you were losing a marriage you were gaining something more important. You couldn’t help but to have feelings for Toji after all these years and the thought of leaving scared you as he was the only thing you have known for the last few years. Starting over was scary but you knew you needed to. 

Turning to leave the room you were stopped by a hand on your arm.

“Don’t go. Lay with me, one last time.” looking down you were met by the face of the man you married 6 years ago.

tag: @beetusbritt❤ divider by @cafekitsune art credit 1: ig: arekushisu (commission do not use) art credit 2: twitter: ayushnz_ ❀follow for more ❀ ao3: kenzieblue❀

-kenzie & des

[cookybananas]

It's Been A Long Time, Old Friend (Part II) - Unburnt!Darth Vader x Reader

author's note: apologies for the delay! but here is part II to 'Its Been A Long Time, Old Friend'. I am currently working on the third chapter, which will be the final part of the mini-series. I am hoping to release it within the next few days. please let me know what you think of the series so far! xx

summary: where Darth Vader arrives on the planet of Lianna. Only to discover that the Queen of Lianna was once his old flame during his Jedi years. part I: It's Been A Long Time, Old Friend (Part I)

You couldn't sleep as well as you thought last night. You felt overwhelming chilly and cold. Perhaps you accidentally left one of your balcony doors open.

Chira was doing your hair as you accessorized yourself with jewelry. You were expected to dress a certain way ever since you became a monarch. Displaying your wealth and status in the intricate, puffy gowns, bouffant hair, and excessive jewelry. At times, you felt the clothing and jewelry you had wore was a bit much, but to your dismay, you didn't have a say in it.

"Is everything alright Y/N?" Chira spoke up, noticing how you were less talkative this morning.

"Yes, Chira...It's just a surprise to find out that Lord Vader would be staying with us the next four weeks. Other than that, everything is fine." You gave her a small smile as you both made your way out of your chambers. Both you and Chira talked some more before you dismissed her to her other duties.

After indulging in breakfast with Kairos in silence as per usual, he eventually left as he had gone off to show Lord Vader the facilities to where his TIE fighters were being built.

You were in the palace's private library, reading away. Life in the palace was boring, but you selfishly prefer this than having to hop planets every week. You didn't have to work in terrible conditions and worry about when or what your next meal was. At times, you weren't sure how long you could get away living this life, or how long the Empire would reign for.

Vader's presence on Lianna left you on edge, you began to ponder at your ruminations. What if you hadn't fully cut yourself off from the force? When the Jedi fell, inquisitors arose and hunted any Jedi. Whether it was to turn them into inquisitors or just simply kill them off. At times, you wanted to reach out to Obi-Wan and see how he was doing. Though, you and Obi-Wan agreed to never disclosed your locations to each other, for the sake of each other's safety, you couldn't deny that you missed your old friend dearly. But there one person you missed the most, and it was your former lover, Anakin Skywalker.

You felt like a traitor when you were forced to marry Kairos. You felt as if you betrayed Obi-Wan, yourself, and most importantly, Anakin. The guilt ate you up for the longest time until you made peace with it, believing this was how your life was going to be from now on.

When Obi-Wan had broke the news that Anakin gone, you refused to believe him at first. You lived in denial for several months, drowning in your sorrow, and holding out hope that your husband would return to you one day.

There was one night, you had a dream of Anakin dying. The dream felt too real that you couldn't tell if it was the force telling you the veracious fate of Anakin. You searched your feelings, which only pushed you in believing that the Anakin you knew and loved ceased to exist. That same night, you made the decision to cut yourself off the force and try to leave your Jedi past behind.

-

Lightning flashed through the tall windows of the dimly-lit palace. The faint sound of thunder rumbling echoed throughout the night sky, masking the sound of Vader's heavy footsteps and breathing as he roamed the corridors. After a long day of touring the facilities and having to listen to Kairos at every minute of the day, Vader was ready to be done and meditate in his chambers. But before he could, Vader had to map out the palace, scanning the building to locate any secrets that may had any hidden passages, hiding any force-sensitive people.

After sending two probe droids and unit of stormtroopers to scan the exterior, Vader had made a beeline through every hallway and room he had encountered, making sure every crevasse of the interior of the palace was noted in his holomap.

When Vader had hit the throne room, the blue light emitted from his wrist, scanning over the objects and walls within the room. When the light had hit the large portrait of you and Kairos, Vader paused, analyzing the picture. Though the room was dimly lit from the lanterns on the wall, the flashes of lightning allowed Vader to take in the portrait clearly.

Vader studied you, his eyes scanning over your features. Your face didn't have any of the royal face paint on. Instead, your face bore little to no makeup, showing your true natural beauty. Vader furrowed his eyebrows as his eyes landed at the small scar on your right cheek. Vader couldn't tell if it was a doppelgänger, or that it was a coincidence that another woman in the space system happened to eerily look like you and have the exact scar on the cheek. He thought fate was playing with him.

"My Lord, we have just finished scanning the palace." The voice of one of his stormtroopers shook Vader out of his thoughts. A flash of lighting glared through the windows and on the portrait, as Vader took one last good look at image before leaving the room and into his chambers.

-

A week had passed since Vader made the decision to stay at the palace. You rarely saw him around at first, but he soon came around and would join you and Kairos for breakfast and dinner. Though he wouldn't eat anything and would just sit and watch you and Kairos eat in silence, perhaps it allowed him to come out of his shell, or just spy on you both.

The one thing you did notice, was how he took a liking to you, at least that's what you convinced yourself of. Whenever Vader was in the presence of both you and Kairos, you always felt like there were a pair of eyes watching you. When you would look back at him, he either continue to stare at you or avert his gaze.

Maybe you were going crazy, but you could still sense Vader's prying eyes on you before going to bed. Because of this, you had made sure to close and lock your balcony doors every night, but even then, you couldn't shake the feeling away that you were being watched.

There was one day you wanted to test the waters with Vader and mustered the courage to start a conversation with him.

"Lord Vader, I hope you are enjoying your stay with us." You stated, approaching the Sith Lord, who was gazing over the clashing waves of the ocean. Vader turned to look at you, surprised at your words.

"Your majesty, it would appear I am enjoying my stay here. It does feel great... To be here, where it is beautiful, and relaxing" He let out, turning to look back at the ocean. You raised your eyebrows, stunned at his response. You've heard Vader was often straightforward with his words, never did he find interest in engaging in intimate conversations, even with his own men.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that Lord Vad-"

"Vader. You can refer me as Vader m'lady. You need not use formalities when you address me, especially when we are alone together." He interrupted you, you were taken aback at his words, unsure what to say.

"Well, Vader. In that case, you can call me Y/N." You gave him a small smile. Anakin whipped his head at your words, his eyes widening under the mask. It was you, it has to be you, this has to be a twist of fate. Anakin's breath hitched in his throat at the revelation.

"Are you alright Vader?" Your tone became serious, noticing the sudden change in his demeanor. You unconsciously touched his well built bicep, a habit you had when expressing your concern. The sudden contact sent a surge of electricity through the both of you. Realizing your action, you pulled your arm back. Anakin on the other hand was disappointed when your hand was no longer on him. He felt that all the pieces missing to him have fallen in place when you touched him. The faint feeling of familiarity he felt when he had landed on Lianna, had become stronger by the moment when you had touched him.

"Oh would you look at that, it's almost time for supper, care to join us?" You cleared your throat, looking down at your pocket watch, quickly changing the subject matter. Vader couldn't refuse, he needed an excuse to be with you longer. He needed you to touch him again, or him to touch you, or something for him to feel that spark he had just felt.

"I...I would love that." He let out. You gave him a huge grin at his response.

A gesture that Vader would never do, he offered his arm to you, in hopes he that you'll ignite that spark in him again. You hooked your arm around his, as you both made your way to the dining hall.

To say that Vader was feeling conflicted at the moment was an understatement. Anakin began to feel that his heart was melting away the ice around it. The past two years, he had felt nothing but fear, pain, and suffering. All of sudden, you, you reminded him about this youthful self and his past, before he became a Sith.

Anakin knew he would have to bring you to the Emperor or have you killed, whether it by his hands or one of his inquisitors, but now he couldn't bring himself to do either. You were his, truly. You were his angel, his wife, and his Y/N. All of the visions he had of you dying were no longer true, there were fictitious. Anakin thought he had lost everyone he loved, but you remained.

-

"That was well delicious as always." Kairos said to one of the butlers, to which you nodded in agreement as the butlers took the plates away.

"It's getting late, we should head to bed honey." You spoke up, looking at Kairos, who nodded in agreement.

"Allow me to walk you to your room my dear." Kairos stood up from his seat, as did you. You roped your arm his as you turned to back at Vader who was seated across the table.

"Goodnight Lord Vader." You gave him a smile, before leaving the room with Kairos. The both of you strolled down the hallway in comfortable silence. Instead of walking into the direction of your private chambers, you both made your way out to the palace's lit up courtyard. Kairos stopped in his place, turning to face you, holding both of your hands in his.

"Y/N..." Kairos spoke up. You looked up to him curious at his strange behavior and sudden intimacy.

"What is it Kairos?" You asked.

"I've noticed our guest has taken a liking to you." He commented. You raise an eyebrow at his statement.

"I think you're reading into it too much Kairos." You turned away, walking back into the direction from where you had came from, not wanting to deal with whatever Kairos had to pick with you this time. However, Kairos grabbed a hold of your wrist, spinning you around to face him.

"Y/N, for once put your ego aside... I understand we may not get along and disagree on most things, but I do care about you... I trust you, but I don't trust Lord Vader. Don't think I haven't noticed his wandering eyes on you." You scoffed at his accusation, ripping your hand out his grasp.

"Are you hearing yourself Kairos? You seem jealous at Vader's closelesness to me. Perhaps-" Before you could finish your words, Kairos smashed his lips against yours. Your eyes widened as you shoved Kairos off, wiping yours lips in disgust.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?" You began to yell at him, never did you imagine Kairos to pull a fast one on you.

"I need you shut up and listen to me for once Y/N. I understand you may not like me, but Lord Vader is here for a reason." Kairos took a step closer to you, his hands holding yours arms that were resting to side. "You may not see it Y/N, but there is something about you that brought Vader here."

You took a step back from Kairos, letting the revelation hit you. Your jig was up, you realized you should have been more careful around Vader. You should have known better that your force signature was still lingering out there. You needed to get off this planet before Vader figured it out.

"I...I need to know. What exchange did you have with the Empire? What relation do you have with him?"

"I-I don't know Vader like that Kairos. I have no idea what you're trying to get at." Your voice trembled, failing to hide your sudden nervousness.

"I suppose, you don't have to tell me if you want to... However, I do think it's best you leave Lianna for sometime. Before something happens." Kairos' voice was softer now. He held your hands once again, his eyes boring into yours. "I'll make sure Chira comes along with you, I'll send you to a planet somewhere in the Outer Rim. The Empire and Lord Vader would not be able to track you as easily there."

"Thank you Kairos... Really, I mean it." You cupped his cheek, to which he closed his eyes and leaned his head into. Realizing what you needed to do and where you needed to go, you knew this would probably be the last time you would step foot on Lianna, at least for a long time. "I apologize for roping you into this.... I know we had our differences, but I did not mind being around you. Even if you were a pain in my ass."

Kairos chuckled at your words, amused at your humor during one of the few vulnerable moments shared between the both of you. You knew you couldn't bring yourself to love Kairos, despite being married. You felt your heart still belonged to Anakin, even when you convinced yourself that he was gone.

"Just know I did love you Y/N, but I knew your heart was somewhere else when I had choose you." You quirked an eyebrow at his words.

"Y-you knew? Why did you still choose me?"

"You were beautiful, and still are. In truth, I needed my father to get off my back, but I did feel alone for the longest time before meeting you." Kairos looked down, avoiding your gaze.

Your eyes soften at his state. Part of you believed that your relationship with Kairos could have worked out. You strongly believed that you could have been good friends at least, but you both were too occupied being enemies than wanting to get along.

"I won't keep you here any longer. I'll have a ship ready for you. Grab whatever you need. Chira and I will meet you by the landing pad." The sudden shift in Kairos' serious tone shook you out of your pondering.

"I'll be quick. Thank you once again Kairos." You gave a quick kiss on his cheek before breaking out into a run, making your way into your private chambers to grab your emergency bag that held your personal items.

-

the finale: It's Been A Long Time, Old Friend (III)

[eroscomet]

Make it Right

Chapter three- Afraid

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Paring: Astrid Deetz x Fem!Ghost!Reader

Warnings: Talks about readers death, a bit angsty.

A/N: TWO UPDATES IN ONE DAY, LET'S GO. I had to get the grind on yall. I've been leaving you guys dry with nothinggg. I hope that you guys enjoy this. I can't say that i'm fully out of my writers block but I do know that I have quite a bit of motivation. Also, I'm writing some new things as well, a Hermione fic, an Olivia Rodrigo fic, and I'm getting a Jenna fic started as well. I have some Oneshots in my drafts currently that I might release some time. Also, i'm sorry in advance if there's any mistakes, I wrote this whole thing in like an hour.

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“What’s the frown for, dead girl?” Astrid murmured, gently running her thumb over your cold skin, which she had been so desperately trying to get accustomed to.

“I’m never going to be alive again. What if you lose your ability and never see my ghost again?” Your arm instinctively leaned into her warm touch.

“Y/N, i’m not going to suddenly just stop having this ability.” Her reassurance felt nice but did little against your fears. Her fingers raised to gently pinch your cheek, trying to bring a faint smile to your lips, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep seeing your pretty ghost face no matter what.”

A soft smile appeared on your face, wanting to believe Astrid’s words. Allowing yourself to get carried away by the thought as you continue to lean your cold, dead skin closer to Astrid’s warm, live touch.

“Even having gone through death, you’re still clingy.” Her tone was one of fondness.

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Weeks had gone by, Astrid stopped by your house whenever she could and even when she couldn’t, you’d roam the town trying to find her like a lost puppy. She was the only one who could see and talk to you, without her, you were lost in a sea of people who couldn’t see or hear you. However, you did know Astrid the best, knowing where to find her whether it’s at school or at the Deetz household.

Currently, Astrid was sitting in her bedroom, trying to desperately study for a test that she had the following day. It was late at night, with Astrid only having her desk lamp on to prove enough light to illuminate her work. She let out a small huff, frustrated as the words were beginning to blur together on the paper. Raking a hand through her messy hair, she sat back in her chair.

“God damnit.”

“Boo.” You joked as you phased through her room’s door, smiling. Emitting a sharp gasp at the sudden voice, her head whipping around to look at the door.

“God! Don’t do that!” Astrid nearly yelled, her hand over her chest as she gave you a glare. She had thought she was alone in her room. So the sudden voice almost gave her whiplash.

“I’m a ghost, it’s what I'm supposed to do, no?” You replied with a laugh as you fully phased your body through the door, entering Astrid’s room. The Handbook for the Recently Deceased in her hand, “I’ve been reading up on this and there's a way to return to life, you know?”

Astrid had let out a small scoff, rolling her eyes at the handbook in your hands. She had always thought that it was a bunch of horseshit. She stood up from her chair as her girlfriend entered the room, crossing her arms over her chest, “Don’t bullshit me, dead girl. You’re a Ghost - you can’t just suddenly come back to life.”

“No, but I can trade a life for my soul. It says so in the book, that I need to find someone living that’s willing to give me life in exchange for theirs but…i’m having no luck. You’d be surprised how hard it is to talk to people who can’t hear you.” You said jokingly with a smile.

“Why am I not surprised?” She replied with an amused scoff at your joke, “Is that the only way for you to return?”

“Well, that and or marrying the living.” You said as you opened up the book, looking down at the page. “Though, I am a bit iffy on this option. It wasn’t from the book, it was offered to me by this man with green hair and a weird white and black striped suit. He said something about if I help him find his ‘bride-to-be’, all i’d have to do is find a person with a life to marry and he’d be able to send me back to the living.”

For a moment, Astrid simply stared at you, trying to process what you had just told her. It sounded batshit insane, but then again - it’s not like the world was any less insane at this point either. She walked towards her girlfriend, glancing down at the book. A slightly skeptical look on her face. Still, she put a hand on her hip, taking a moment to think about it.

“Okay, so let me get this straight. All you have to do is marry a living person and you’re good?”

“No, I have to find this guy’s bride-to-be or whatever. He honestly went on some monologue about her and I zoned out. He didn’t want to give me any information unless I agreed to take his offer. I think he said his name was Beetlejuice?”

“Beetlejuice?” She repeated with a raised eyebrow. The name sounded vaguely familiar to her but she couldn’t remember where she had heard the name before. She let out a sigh, moving back to her desk to take a seat in her chair once more. Raking a hand through her hair as she looked at you, “Okay, let’s just say I do believe this for a second - How are you supposed to find this bride-to-be for some weird Beetle-dude?”

“He’ll give me her name and a photo of her. He says all I need to do is find her and have someone alive say his name three times.”

She hummed quietly as she listened and thought over everything for a moment. It was starting to get into crazy territory for Astrid, but it’s not like anything that happened in this god forsaken town wasn’t already crazy.

“Okay, dead girl. Let’s say we do find the bride. What then? Who’s going to say the name three times?”

“I was hoping you could help? He says that his bride or whatever can also see the dead or something.” You shrugged.

“God, you’re a pain sometimes. Fine, I’ll say the damn name three times if we find this bride” She said with a small amused huff. Of course you were going to ask her to help out with something that sounded crazy enough to work.

“Also… You need to marry me for me to return to the living.” You said as you looked at Astrid. This was a big ask of you, and one that sounded irrational but how else could you return? Your hand began to gently pull the hairs on the back of your neck, nervously.

Astrid stared at you in slight disbelief at your words. Marriage - actual marriage. A part of Astrid’s mind began to wander, imagining what it would be like to marry you. Then she pushed the thought aside, remembering they were technically teenagers.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious about the marriage part. We’re teengaers.” 

“So, what, I'm supposed to wait years to return to living?” Your voice was a bit defensive, “What if his offer doesn’t stand by then?”

“Y/N, why are you so dead set on returning to life anyway?” She asked with a frown tugging at her lips, her tone was now more soft than skeptical.

“Because I'm dead and I'm cold and everyone sees through me but you. Even you can’t touch me for long before you practically freeze to the bone!” You said, your voice had wavered a bit as you became vulnerable by the question.

Astrid’s expression softened at your words, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, you had a fair point. It was hard for her to touch you for extended periods - even if Astrid loved holding you. But at the same time, Astrid couldn’t help but also feel a pang of guilt at her words.

“But you know I don’t mind if we can’t touch for that long. Plus, i’m the only one that can see you - that’s special, don’t you think?”

“And what about my family? I’ve been dead for a year almost two!”

She felt like her heart almost dropped at your words, she couldn’t imagine how hard this had to be for you, being separated from your family - not only by death but by her own ability. She gently laid her hand on yours, trying to offer some comfort. Unsure about marrying you, but her reluctance lessened a little at your words.

“You miss your family.” She mumbled, more of a statement than a question. She squeezed your cold hand, her other going to your cheek, caressing your skin gently. She let out a soft sigh, trying to organize her thoughts - but her mind was getting progressively more conflicted.

“God, this would be so much easier if I just said yes. It sounds like the best idea, but…” Her thoughts trailed off as she slowly retracted her hand from your cheek.

“You don’t want to marry me.” You said quietly as you realized, not needing to read her mind to know what she was thinking. You pulled away from your girlfriend’s touch, biting your lip.

Her gaze immediately whipped back up to look at you, her expression was a mix of shock and confusion.

“No, that’s-” She began, a frown quickly plastering itself on her face. She reached her hand out toward you, trying to grab your again. “-It’s not that, Y/N.”

“I’ve gotta go. My second deathiversary is coming up tomorrow.” You said as you stood up, not waiting for Astrid’s reply. You simply phased through her wall, leaving her alone in her room.

“Y/N, wait!” She explained, standing up to follow after her ghost girlfriend. She dashed over to the wall that you had phased through, trying to grab your hand before you left. However, Astrid’s hand only went through empty air - you had already left.

“God damnit.” She mumbled, cursing under her breath as she let out an exasperated sigh.

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When the next day came, you found yourself sitting at a bench at the graveyard. Watching as your family visited your grave. Despite no one being able to see you, you wore all black since it felt most appropriate for the situation. Astrid had walked up to the graveyard, noticing you sitting on the bench in all black. Letting out a small, quiet sigh, she began to walk over towards you, but then stopped for a moment. Her eyes looked towards your grave, noting your family visiting and talking in front of the grave, probably leaving things for you to ‘use’ in the afterlife. 

“Astrid, honey! You made it! I can’t believe she died two years ago, huh? Still feels like yesterday.” Your mother said as she quickly walked towards Astrid, unable to see your ghost which was sitting right behind Astrid.

Astrid let out a strained smile, nodding her head. That smile was mostly fake, stealing a glance over at you.

“Yeah, yeah…it really doesn’t feel like it's been that long…” She mumbled, mostly playing along. However, the sight of your family made Astrid’s heart pang with guilt.

“I’m sure Y/N would’ve wanted her girlfriend here.” Your mom said with a pitiful smile as she put her hand on Astrid’s shoulder hesitantly.

“Yeah, she would have.” She responded quietly, trying to keep the guilt out of her voice as she glanced over at you, who only stared at your mother.

“Yeah, you know I just can’t believe…” Your mom had begun speaking, her pitiful voice drowning out as you began speaking.

“Can you tell her that I love her?” You said as you stared at your mother. 

How was Astrid supposed to tell your mother that her head daughter says that she loves her? “That would sound absolutely insane, especially to such an attention seeking mother-” Astrid quickly cut off her thoughts as she didn’t want to take them too far. She simply tried to listen to what your mother was saying, but your sudden words made her almost immediately forget. 

“How am I supposed to tell a mother that her daughter, who has been dead for two years, loves her?! I’d sound more insane than my own mother!”

Astrid glanced between you and your mother, trying to think of what to do. Her mind racing with thoughts, trying to find a way out of this situation. Her mind kept drawing blanks, and then she heard your mother speak again.

“Don’t you think?” Was all that Astrid had heard as your mother looked at her expectantly with a smile.

“Yes, I do think that.” Astrid replied, nodding her head and sending your mother a fake smile that she knew would satisfy her. She cursed herself internally for not listening to what she said before, nodding her head to your mothers words. She had no idea what she was agreeing to, all she knew was that she didn’t want to be speaking to your mother right now.

“That’s what I thought! This baby is exactly what this family needed. I’m very excited for Vera’s baby shower. I knew you’d agree that naming the baby Y/N would be a good idea.” Your mother said with a smile. 

Vera, your older sister who is twenty-two years old, apparently planning to name her first child after her sister, Y/N. Astrid knew it was purely out of her selfishness and wanting the attention directed at herself and not Y/N. She didn’t want to be in Y/N’s shadow after your death because her entire life she’d been the center of your parents' affections and attention.

Astrid’s eyes widened slightly at her words, the realization slowly dawning on her as to what your mother was saying to her. A part of her felt like she just had a bucket of water thrown on her. Your sister was pregnant and naming the baby after you and your mother had just asked Astrid’s opinion on it, knowing Astrid dated you. Astrid knew she should probably say something, but the words just froze in her throat. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words escaped her. She was happy that your family still loved and missed you, even if they displayed it in an attention seeking way.

Astrid felt guilty and almost selfish for wanting to keep you to herself, she bit her bottom lip and glanced in your direction. Your mother’s smile slowly began to fade, a look of confusion taking its place as she looked over to the direction Astrid looked, but seeing no one and nothing. Astrid’s eyes flicked up to see your mother staring at her, clearly wanting Astrid to give some kind of answer.

“You must be grief-ridden. I’ll bother you no more, but just know that you’re invited to the baby shower.” Your mother said pitifully as she shook her head, excusing herself and walking back over to your family at your grave.

“Yeah, so is half the town, don’t go feeling special with my mother.” You said with a small indignant scoff.

“Gee, thanks for the commentary.” She quipped under her breath, “You can cut the attitude, you know.”

“I’ve got eternity to hold this attitude. Literally, now that there's no way for me to return to living.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be so..” Astrid paused for a moment, trying to find the right words, before eventually sighing and just deciding to say bluntly, “..bitchy, for lack of a better term.”

You slightly scoffed, you were somewhat amused but also annoyed. Shaking your head, you stood up and began walking away. Astrid was going to catch up to you but once you phased through a tree, you disappeared into thin air.

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A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, more to come I promise. Thank you so much for the love and support. Remember that you can request something on my page if you're interested! I promise to get on it asap. Anyways, bye lovelies!

[sunflowerwinds]

this love [h.c] | chapter five

summary: the news of your parents return caused your world to come crashing down. heart heavy and yearning for hazel, the blue eyed woman takes it into her hands to distract you from the world you live in and takes you to what could be your new reality.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: fluff to the max & time period homophobia

word count: 3.3k

a/n: OH MY GOD. hello everyone. it has been months since my last update. i kid you not i don’t know where this spark of energy to write for these two angels once again. also thank you guys for 2k followers! WHAT THE HELL. i love you all so so much to the bottom of my heart <3

‘this love’ masterlist

To say you were infuriated was an understatement.

The second Isabel had informed you about your parents' early arrival, your skin lit aflame. Hazel had emerged from your bedroom with a worried expression, expecting you to be running down the halls after your friend. You turned to her with hot angry tears in your eyes and her own sharp blue ones softened.

“Princess—” Hazel spoke with a gentle tone but was interrupted by your hushed words.

“They said two months. Hazel, now we don’t even have two weeks.” Your voice wavered as you ran your hands over your face with a shaky breath. “My parents are on their ways back home.”

Hazel’s face broke you. For a split second, her entire face dropped, settling into a frown that you’ve never seen before. Genuine hurt and fear on her face.

It aches you to see her this way.

The next morning, Hazel woke up tangled in your sheets and practically clinging to you. You hadn’t slept for a single second that first night. Your eyes were wide and red-rimmed from both crying and due to lack of sleep.

She stirred in her sleep and you glanced at her relaxed figure. You knew the staff was going to be arriving within the next week to start preparing for the king and queen's arrival. You sit up from the bed, careful of Hazel’s sleeping figure.

You should’ve known better as Hazel woke up seconds after your body left the bed.

“Princess?” Her groggy voice called out.

You freeze in your tracks and blink back heavy tears. Your back was towards her, facing the door.

“Hazel, I’m alright. I’m going to read in the library.” You tell her shakily, hoping she would leave it alone.

The shuffling of the sheets causes you to turn around to face Hazel. Her hair was tossed and her eyes were slightly squinted at you. It made you feel a little better to see her so adorable in the morning. That she cared enough to get out of bed.

“You’re not alright. That’s okay, you know that?” Hazel comes up to you and gently takes your hands in hers.

You avoid her eye line, afraid she could see how afraid you were to lose this once your parents arrived back home.

“I know. I… I don’t want them back. I’ve finally found my happiness without them,” You admit softly, looking up at her for a moment before shyly looking away once again.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Hazel muttered before tugging you into her body and wrapping her arms around your tense figure.

You dropped the ache in your shoulders to wrap your arms around her midsection. You snuggled your face into the crook of her neck, wanting to crawl into her skin to stay there for the rest of your days. That way you wouldn't face the horrors of the reality of who you were.

People would harm you and Hazel for simply being together. For being a sapphic.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you sniffled as you clawed at the cotton undershirt clinging to her toned back.

Hazel releases a shaky breath, her heartbeat picking up in speed. She couldn’t believe you felt so strongly about her.

“You could never lose me,” Hazel whispered into your temple before placing a gentle kiss there.

“You can’t say that. I’m petrified of what my parents will do to you if they find out.” You shake your head, pulling your head out of the crook of her warm neck. “Isabel had told me about a brutal hanging of a man a few kingdoms north that was… a homosexual. They threw tomatoes at his dead body, shouting awful things about how he deserved it simply because he didn’t love a woman.”

Hazel’s stomach, admittedly, churned at the gruesome thought of that happening to either one of them.

“We can’t ever be open with our affections and it hurts me so much, it might kill me.” You sighed out, a frown etched onto your lips.

You never thought you would worry that much about your love life this much. Hazel changed everything.

“How about we go somewhere for a few days? Go and take a breath of fresh air and not waste time thinking about the bad that could come.” Hazel’s hands cup the sides of your hot cheeks, wiping away the few streaks of tears that had left your tired eyes.

“Where?” You ask.

“I wanted to wait until the first month was over but I think you deserve to know about this place.” Hazel grinned softly at you, leaning forward to capture your lips into a gentle kiss.

So, you made your way into the kitchen area to snatch a few fruits and breads for however long the journey could be. Hazel suggested that the two of you could spend three days there, even longer if you desired. You weren't sure what this secret location could contain but Hazel seemed to know a lot more about the kingdom than you.

Well, you guess that’s what came with the freedom of being able to leave your own home whenever you please.

You came back to your bedroom to find Hazel packing a few trousers and shirts into a leather suitcase. Her short hair beautifully fell over her sharp features, sending an electrifying feeling up your spine. The skin underneath your nightgown became warm, borderline hot to the touch.

Curse Hazel’s genetics.

“Princess? Is everything alright?” Hazel glanced up at you, noticing how you were lingering in your doorway instead of stepping into the room.

You were still gripping onto the basket filled with food, feet planted onto the cool floors.

“Yes. Sorry. I forget how distracting you can be,” you tease, a cheeky grin spreading onto your lips.

Hazel’s brows raised, shocked at your sudden bold statement. You took a few steps into the room, eyes widening with want. The hairs on the back of your stand as Hazel meets you in the middle to cup the sides of your face, kissing you with just as much want and desire as you were feeling in your chest.

You can’t help but smile against her gentle lips on yours, your mood skyrocketing. You pulled away after a few seconds of sinking into the kiss to examine her face.

“So you really won’t tell me?” You press once but Hazel merely smacks her lips and shakes her head.

“It’s a surprise. I promise you’ll love it.” Hazel insists as she pecks your lips once more.

She backs away from you to finish packing her clothes and yours. It only took you another half hour to be able to inform Isabel of you and Hazel’s absence. The honey-haired beauty was in her own quarters just an enormous hallway down from your grand room. You knocked on the door and patiently waited for her response.

“Come in!” She called from behind the heavy door.

You push on the wooden door and see her sewing a soft green dress, almost the exact shade as her eyes, with white frilly trimmings on the neckline, end of the skirt, and shoulder straps. She really did have a gift. Her ability to sew such perfect dresses was admirable.

“Oh, hi!” Isabel beamed at you, finishing up the last stitch on the dress before setting it aside on her bed. “Is everything alright?” Isabel’s captivating eyes widened when she noticed that you were stiff in posture.

You nod with a soft laugh. “I’m alright, Bel. I wanted to let you know that Hazel and I are going to be leaving for—”

“Leaving?” She jolts up onto her feet from the seat at the end of her bed with a slight panic in her voice. Her frizzy hair bounces from the sudden jolt in movement as she walks over to frantically take her hands into yours. “If it’s because of what I had told you last night, I’m so incredibly sorry. I didn’t think it would drive you out of the palace.”

Your eyes bulged out of your head at her reaction, nervously laughing at her anxious state.

“Isabel, no. She’s taking me somewhere for a few days to get away for a bit. Not forever.”

For some reason, that felt like a lie. Like it wasn’t a promise you should be making.

“Oh. Okay. Well, you two please be weary and safe. I couldn't bear to think that something could happen to the two of you.” Isabel rubbed her thumbs over your palms, seeming to pass her anxiety through her touch.

“We will. We’ll be back in three days at the very most.” You lie straight through your teeth and it aches at your gums.

Isabel seems to ease a bit once you’ve informed her of what you and Hazel’s plans were. You left her with a bone-crushing hug, waving goodbye as you sped to your bedroom once again. As you leaned against the doorway, you admired Hazel who was bent over, clasping the suitcase closed.

“Do you need any help?” You speak up, folding your hands across the wide space of your soft skirt.

Hazel stood up with a small grin at the sound of your voice, her consciousness at ease.

“I got it, princess. You could get the basket you prepared,” She tilts her head at you, eyes not leaving your own.

You blush at her gaze. She was a sorceress in disguise, you swore it.

“I can do that,” you stated as you made your way over to the woven basket.

Every glance the two of you shared ached every part of your heart. In the refined space of your high-ceiling bedroom, you were able to place lingering kisses and gentle touches on her body. After holding back every fiber of your being back from kissing her until your lips bled, the two of you were able to sneak past the few guards that were beginning to arrive for your parents’ arrival.

You peaked around every stone corner before silently walking to the doors that led to the gravel walkway to the gates. Hazel was rounding the corner of the stables with two fingers hooked onto the reins. You approached them in a hushed manner, whispering gentle words to Peanut as you brushed your hand over his beautiful mane. With a few more quick glances to scan your surrounding area, Hazel helped you up and followed your movements so that the two of you could make this mysterious tret.

There in the clearing behind the beautiful lemon trees was a medium sized cabin with a straw roof and a surrounding fence that was smothered in vines and a variety of flowers that you were sure Hazel could identify. Your eyes widened in awe at the cozy home, your arms tightening around Hazel’s torso due to your growing excitement.

“Where are we?” You question breathlessly.

“My first home,” Hazel replied, equally out of breath.

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline at her words.

Her first home?

“My father technically owns this land and everything on it. The land is under his name. Lucky for us, it's my name as well,” Hazel cheekily responded, tugging back the reins so Peanut came to a halt just in front of the fence.

You let out a soft sigh, a content smile on your face as you continue to stare at the exterior. Hazel released the reins which caused you to let go of her waist as she was going to get down from her horse. Your eyes follow her lace up boot covered feet, grabbing the leather bit to lead Peanut to the fence to tie him too. You held yourself by the reins, eyes squinting as you peered through the surrounded forest. There hadn’t been people from what you could see; merely miles of green.

Hazel’s soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Princess?”

You blink and look down at her, a smitten smile on your lips.

“Yes?” You question.

“I’d love to show you around the cabin and the garden in the back,” Hazel put out her hand for you to grasp onto.

You grin as you take her hand in yours, carefully stepping onto Peanut’s stirrups to then put your own booted feet on the fresh grass. Hazel held your waist to keep you steady as you adjusted the skirt portion of your dress. Peanut huffed a bit before Hazel muttered a few words, brushing a hand over his mane.

“He hasn’t been here in quite some time. I think he remembers it,” Hazel spoke up.

Your eyes soften at her words, running your own hand over his back. He seemed to calm down after a few gentle brushes of you and Hazel’s palms. After Hazel had made sure he was safely secure, she took your hand in hers without shame and practically dragged you to the front door of the cabin. You were bouncing on the soles of your boots with excitement to see what was inside such a domestic home.

From underneath her deep, rich blue shirt, she pulled out a key that was hanging on a thin rope around her neck. You watched her carefully slide in the key through the heavy door, listening for the click to signal the door was now unlocked. Almost immediately, you were hit by the faint stench of the old wood wafting into the clean air outside. Hazel lightly coughed as did you at the realization that the home had not been touched in a fairly long amount of time.

Walking into the home with your hand grasped onto Hazel’s slightly rough one, a small living room, no larger than your favorite room in the palace; the library. You were surprised for just a moment to see no family paintings hanging on the walls; something you despise more than anything other than a few other factors from the palace. Though, there was a specific painting that had caught your attention that hung right above the dining area that had collected a few specks of dust from the untouched spade. Hazel seemed to notice your wandering eyes, tugging your arm a bit to motion for you to follow her footsteps over to the painting. Stepping past the log-like footrest in front of the couch and a dining chair, the two of you plant your booted feet right in front of the painting.

”Is this…?” You tilt your head, eyes flickering to the strokes of paint sculpted beautifully on the canvas.

“The bridge.” She confirmed your thoughts. “I wasn’t lying earlier when I said my father would go there to think about my mother. She painted this after he took her there to ask her to be his wife,” Hazel hummed.

Your eyes cloud with guilt and beaded with tears as you remember what you did to that bridge. Something that was so memorable to Hazel’s father was damaged because of you.

“Oh, Hazel, I’m so sorry,” you sigh, a lump forming in your throat.

Hazel turned her neck to stare at your solemn face. She shook her head slowly as she took your free hand in hers.

“It’s okay. I meant that. We can… fix it together one day and make it ours.” Hazel hummed as she stared lovingly into your eyes.

“Ours?” You repeated back to her, loving the way the idea sounded on your tongue.

Hazel nodded to confirm, her smile widening. Her smile lines beautifully indented into her paler cheeks as she released both of your hands to cup the sides of your face. You knew your cheeks were as warm as the heat outside, flushed at Hazel’s touch and sweet promise.

“Everything here could be ours,” Hazel softly assured you.

You glanced at quilted pillows on the couch, the quite large rug that was tucked under the feet of the seating area. You had no idea what you were expecting when you first entered the sweet cottage but something in you felt safe here. Hazel’s thumbs ran over cheeks as she watched your eyes dart to every square inch of the living area.

The idea of being away from all of your troubles back home was inviting but you had no idea what the outcome of it could be; how enraged your father would be knowing you disappeared into the night. He might even be relieved as he saw you as such a burden to the kingdom as a whole. Blinking out of you crowded head, you focused your attention on the one person that did want you around.

“I believe I was promised the garden view,” you hum, your hands reaching to cup over her wrists.

Hazel chuckled at your words, reluctantly releasing the gentle surface of your skin. You follow her through the, just as the rest of the house, small kitchen to the back door. Twisting the knob to the chipping door, you were met with a fresh scent of a mix of florals and greens, reminding you of baths.

Vines of roses twirled around a wooden arch that led down a path of patches of different vegetables and fruit trees. Without realizing, you took a deep breath at the smell of the lemon and orange tree. The sight of every one of your favorite fruits; including some of which you’ve never seen before, had your mouth salivating.

“My father has a green thumb. Thankfully, it was passed down to me as well,” Hazel beamed at how less tense you were here.

“Where did he even get a hold of some of these?” You kneel down into the green grass, touching over the ripe blackberries.

“One of my father’s friends from when he was training to be a knight also works at the ports. They retrieve seeds from all over the world for a variety of fruits and vegetables. He would drop some off every few months. He stopped a year ago because no one had been living here for quite some time.”

“Then how are these so… fresh?” You question in confusion.

“Well, blackberries,” Hazel slightly grunted as she kneeled down right next to you, pointing at the fruit, “usually take two years to grow before they’re ripe and ready to eat. Most of the things in this garden take a few years to be fully grown.”

You feel embarrassment settle within your chest at your lack of knowledge.

“Sorry. I didn’t know,” you brush your flyaways out of your face, sighing to yourself.

Hazel merely placed a kiss on your temple from her crouched position next to you.

“There will be no more apologies from you. I will teach you everything I know,” she wrapped her arm across the length of your back, placing another kiss to your cheek and then the corner of your mouth.

Flushed in every place imaginable, you turn your neck to capture her lips in yours with need. You cup her jaw gently as your lips move against each other, the twittering of unknown birds and Peanut’s huffs making the scene feel all the more domestic. The consequence of getting caught never crossed your mind; Hazel’s gentle tone and touch clouded over the negativity.

“Everything?” You pull away, breathing against her lips.

“Cooking, gardening, building, archery, work on your combat skills as well,” Hazel teased as her nose rubbed against your own.

You crane your neck back to examine her face, jaw dropping in offense.

“You said I had a good punch.”

“While that is true, you need more than just a single punch, princess,” Hazel explains to you.

You hum in disagreement, standing back up onto your feet.

“Maybe combat isn’t meant for me. I’ll have you protect me instead,” you tease, tracing a finger over the underside of her jaw.

Hazel preened under your touch, blue eyes wide with anticipation. She stood up on her feet eagerly, placing her hands on the waist of your everyday dress. It was laughable how much you enjoyed having her hands on you.

“I’ll always protect you. I’m sworn to it.”

tag-list: @hazelvrr @sc0ttstre3ted @vster0769 @angelsknifeprty @mih11 @em16cor @ahdbodhr @rubycruzin4abruzin @slut4els @lesbianknowitall @sam-cooperrr @athenalive @nomarksonelegance @crvptidgf @summerfillednights

[anacdoce]

New Beginnings

Chapter 1 - New Year's Eve

The beautiful screenshot above is from @iizven, and I'm so in love with it!

Pairing: Astarion x you (f!reader, implied sorcerer with no magic anymore)

Rating: T

Word count: 6.4k

Warnings: post game events; fluff; Astarion is trying his best; a bit of angst to spice it all; sequel of "I wish" and so Astarion is mortal again.

Summary: After your recovery you decide it's time to move on and follow Astarion's plans. Neverwinter awaits you, as does the end of the year that is almost upon you.

Will this new beginning go as expected?

a/n: I confess, it was not my intention to make a sequel from my first fic "I wish", but a dear friend of mine, inception me with some ideas, and here I am, sharing on the last day of the year the continuation of a story that is very special to me.

As a thank you, I gift this small sequel to @iizven, not only because she is responsible for it, but because she has been a true friend, giving me the support and motivation to keep writing.

This is for you, my dear. Hope you like it. <3 (a late Christmas gift if you want).

To wrap up my ramblings, I just wanted to mention that what was originally meant to be a short one-shot ended up being much longer than I anticipated. As a result, I decided to split it into two parts.

Now please, enjoy it.

Happy New Year to everyone!! ❤️

Next chapter

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The end of the year draws near, and you’re preparing to leave Waterdeep to reach Neverwinter before that. 

It’s been a few weeks since you had Shadowheart’s blessing for your departure. Your wounds have healed, your body is mended and nothing holds you in Waterdeep anymore. There is no hope to recover your lost magic, so everything that could be done has been done. And despite Gale’s continuous pleading, you feel it’s time to leave. Not that you’re uncomfortable or anything, nothing like that, because there is no better host than Gale—he really makes you feel at home—but you know Astarion is waiting. He never tells you he wants to leave, always placing your well-being above all else, but since you heard from Shadowheart’s mouth that you no longer need her by your side as a cleric and that you are released from her hands, he started to gather things—making your packs, collecting maps and goods for your future journeys together. And you don’t want to delay that any longer, because the more you wait to leave, the more he’s growing impatient.

And finally, that day has come.

“Are you sure you want to travel at this time of the year? The winter in the north can be harsh.” Gale tries once more to convince you not to leave while he’s helping you to put your backpack on.

“It’s not that bad in Neverwinter. You know that, wizard.” Astarion replies with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

“Well… I know, but…” Gale mumbles, clearly unwilling to give up his fight. “But it can be very windy!”

“It’s fine Gale. We’ll be alright.” You try to reassure him for what feels like the tenth time on that day.

“Oh, Darling, he’s not really worried about me.” Astarion remarks dryly.

Gale snorts, darting Astarion with a deep and hurted glare. “That’s not true. You know that.” 

Astarion clicks his tongue and turns to fetch his cloak, and Gale seizes the opportunity to get closer to you, holding your arm, and lowering his voice just for you to hear. “Stay until the Wintershield celebrations. At least until then. You would make me very happy if we could celebrate the start of the new year together.” 

“I know you would… But, and after that? You would ask me to stay until the end of winter. And after that, until the snow has melted, and after that until the flowers have bloomed…” You state as he shakes his head in denial. 

“No. I promise. I won’t ask you that.” Gale insists.

“It’s fine Gale, it’s time to leave.” You smile at him, staring into his eyes trying to make him realise that you’re ready to move forward with your life. You need this.

“But… your magic? I haven't given up on that yet.” He nervously adds. His eyes, restless replying to your stare.

“Let it go Gale. I’m fine. I have accepted it. You should too.” You place your hand over his, holding it affectionately. 

It’s not entirely true, you think about it everyday, because you miss it… desperately. But there is nothing you can do about it, and there is no point to dwell on that any further.

“Never.” His face, serious.

Shadowheart approaches, pulling Gale gently to her side. “Alright, that’s enough. This is not a goodbye, is it? We’ll see each other again, shortly. I’m sure of it.” And Astarion huffs from behind you, displeased. Shadowheart ignores him and continues, “I’ll stay in Waterdeep a while longer, and we can celebrate the new year together.” She places her arm over Gale’s shoulder, making him smile at her gesture.

“We’ll keep in touch. And it’s like Shadowheart has said, we’ll be together in no time.” 

“Yes, yes, that’s all very touching.” Astarion interjects with an exaggerated sigh. “Now, shall we go?” 

You nod. It’s time.

Hugging them both, you remember the last months together. They meant so much to you. They're truly your friends, and you’ll miss them dearly. “Thank you for everything.” You mutter. “No words are enough to express my gratitude for both of you. I will never forget everything you have done for us.” You squeeze them against you.

“Oh shut up…” You swear you can hear Shadowheart sob. “You’re going to make me cry.” And she releases you breathing deeply, trying to control her emotions.

Gale, on the other hand, holds you tighter. “Please, take care of yourselves. I’ll always be here if you need me.” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek before stepping back.

Astarion approaches you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Have you said all your goodbyes, my love?” He whispers in your ear.

You glare at him and smile, your vision beginning to blur as tears gather in your water line. 

They wave their hands at you, and Astarion does the same, almost awkwardly, wanting to go unnoticed. Then he holds your hand firmly and waits for you to take the lead on the first steps of your new adventures together. 

After a big deep breath, you turn around and step forward, moving away from your friends. A few tears escape your eyes despite your best efforts to hold them back. After all, many things happened in the previous months, and if you’re here today it's because of them.

“Sweetie, are you alright?” Astarion asks, concern flickering across his face. “We can stay if you want…”

“No, I don’t want that.” You bring his hand to your mouth and kiss it. “What I want is right here by my side.” You smile at him tenderly.

“I promised to make you the happiest woman who ever lived. And I intend to. I will fulfill my promise, Love.” His words spelled with confidence. 

“Oh, my Star, but you already do.” And nothing in this world is more true than that.

You intertwine your fingers on his, brushing your thumb on the back of his hand, and you proceed your path, leaving behind the sweet and sour memories of the past months of your life.

—

Together, you decide to travel along the road near the coast, taking the shorter route to Neverwinter. You feel more and more excited with the idea of traveling around Faerun with Astarion, the more distant you are from Waterdeep. You need something like this. You both do.

When he was gathering all the things for your journey, Astarion packed a book about Neverwinter—filled with maps of the city, its traditions and costumes, and some important history facts. Each night, as you settle to rest, you read a bit of it, and you finally start to understand the fascination Astarion has with this particular city. You can’t wait to arrive there.

In the meantime, you’re enjoying each and every day of this new adventure together. You missed those days, alone with him. Only the two of you, as friends, as lovers. Never was he so tender with you, something you thought it wasn’t possible. Maybe the events of the past few months left their marks, because… well, let's just say that your near-death experience is something still very present in his mind. There are nights that you catch him hovering over you trying to hear your heartbeat, to make sure you’re alive while you’re sleeping. You can’t blame him. You would do the same… He still worries about you, and you’re sure he always will, as you will with him. 

For some time now, he has been trying to teach you how to use a dagger, because now that you don’t have your magic anymore you have to use something else to defend yourself, but you’re a menace with it. He tries to conceal his despair when he teaches you a simple move with the blade, but you can see behind his twitching eyes that the frustration is there. So one day, you suggest trying a bow instead—perhaps you can learn it more easily, which he promptly agrees to. And how joyful he is when he sees that at last you found something you can learn and be good at it. Since then, he has been more relaxed and less alert with everything around you, because now you can defend yourself. But despite all that, in each archery lesson he always ends up confessing: “Even so, I would prefer if you knew how to properly use a dagger…” To which you always retort, “And I would prefer if you acknowledged you’re not a vampire anymore and stopped playing with your knives so recklessly like you do every day…” Because honestly, Astarion’s mortality has given you new worries to care about. This elf is like a wild child on the loose, and sometimes you’re almost sure he forgets he’s not a vampire anymore… and Gods! How your heart wants to jump out from your mouth… Things he always did and never were an issue to you, like playing with his daggers, now gives you shivers all over your body. Your husband enjoys the thrill of danger, a trait you’ll have to learn to deal with, because that will not change. Not now, not ever. 

On one stormy evening, you find shelter in a cave somewhere in the Sword Mountains. After setting up camp, you grab your Neverwinter book again, and curl up in Astarion’s lap on his bedroll, as he drinks a hot cup of tea. You read it for a while, gently cradled by his free hand on your head, brushing strands of your hair with his delicate fingers, and every now and then his hand strays to your neck, stroking the scars, the scars he gifted you some time ago. He often touches them, sometimes without even realising it, sometimes longing for the taste of your blood in his mouth, and sometimes because he needs the reassurance that you’re not going anywhere, that you love him, and that you chose to spend the rest of your life with him. Even after all you have done he still doubts himself… and you believe that will never really change either.

And now he’s doing exactly that—caressing the two dots his not anymore sharp fangs left in your skin, in what seems to be a lifetime ago… 

Discreetly you look upwards, to his face, trying to examine his expression. “Is everything alright, Star?” You inquire, not sure of what’s happening inside his mind.

“Oh, yes. Everything is perfect, Darling.” He flees, as his hand, retreating to your hair.

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” You insist, leaving his lap to sit beside him.

Astarion smiles, and you sense some gloom on it. “I know.” He answers. Then, he spreads his legs open, reaches for your hand and pulls you closer. “Come here, my love.” He snuggles you against his chest, wrapping his arms around your tummy. “Now tell me… what did you learn about Neverwinter today?” And he rests his chin against your shoulder, tilting his head towards the book in your hand.

Flipping the book open, indulging him, you clear your throat dramatically before speaking. “So, today I learned about the Feast of Lanterns.” And you try to give your voice a mysterious flourish to intrigue him.

“Uuuh, the Feast of Lanterns? What is that?” He asks, tickling your belly at the same time.

Giggling, you try to escape his tickles, and when he stops you bring the book closer to his face. “It’s a celebration of the New Year. See?” You explain, pointing to an illustration of the city illuminated by lanterns. “Everyone makes a lantern, every living soul in Neverwinter makes a lantern. And on the evening of the new year, they light them, filling the city with a warm glow and making wishes for the year ahead.” 

Astarion pulls back from you, frowning, one finger waving in the air in front of your nose. “No, no! You promised!”

“What?!” You query, confused.

“You’re forbidden to make wishes, remember?” 

“Oh, come on! Are you serious about this?” You exclaim, incredulous. 

“Of course!” Then he leaps over you, making you tumble onto his bedroll, his perfect warm body over yours. “You can’t wish for anything else in this life. I was the last wish you could spell with your soft silky lips.” He purrs into your ear.

“Is that so?” You chuckle, running your hands down his back, until you reach his shirt waistband, pulling it slightly over just so you can touch his bare skin.

“And since your last wish was fulfilled—because I’m here, very, much, alive—no more wishes for you, Love.” His nose, caressing your cheek, slowly reaching to your lips. “But…”

“But?...” You gasp, feeling his breath invading your senses.

“But…” A soft kiss. “You could always…” Another kiss. “Just ask.” And another.

Your hands slide back to his shoulder plates, but this time inside his shirt. “So, I can’t make a wish, but I can ask for something. Is that it?” You try to nibble his lip, but he leans his head backwards just in time to evade your attempt. 

“Correct.” He confirms, his voice like velvet, while he unbuttons your shirt, cupping your breast contained in your bra with his hand next, making you arch your back in response to his touch. “As long as I am what you'll ask for, my love.” 

“Oh, my shining star…” You hold him tight against you, murmuring, “You will always be everything I’ll ask for.” 

His eyes glitter, reflecting the light of the candles nearby, staring into yours. “Promise?”

“I promise.” One of your hands leaves his back to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. 

He keeps just staring at you for a while longer, probably absorbing everything you just said. And from one moment to the next his expression changes, and he’s no longer bearing his soft and reverent beautiful smile, reserved to you when he’s lost in his love for you. That smile turns into a mischievous one, and you know he’s plotting for something. “Well, I could always open an exception.” His voice, provocative.

“An exception? To what, I may ask?” You play his game.

An open, victorious smile, spreading in his lips. “Yes. I will let you wish for only one more thing, at this precise moment.”

“Oh, how generous of you!” You lead your hand into your chest, feigning surprise.

“Darling, you know I can be a very generous man.” He purrs. “Now, if you want, and I know you do want to, I’ll let you wish for a kiss. A warm and breathtaking kiss from the most perfect elf you have ever met.” His tone, turning into a seductive one. “But be careful.” He warns. “You have to formulate this wish very wisely, or the elf may flee and you’ll be miserable, wondering forever how the most unforgettable kiss of your life would have been.”

Such a bastard. You think for yourself, letting out a giggle at his smugness. “Gods… I can’t let that happen. I would be heartbroken… I can’t let this perfect elf escape. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” 

“I thought so, Sweetheart.” His two fingers, running across your chest to your right shoulder, tucking aside the strap of your bra.

“Alright. Lets see…” You stray your eyes from his, looking at the ceiling of the cave, pretending that you’re thinking, while he starts to trail small kisses on your shoulder all the way up to your neck. “This is very… hard… indeed…” You confess, your body reacting to him, butterflies invading your stomach. Even after all this time, this man is still capable of making you feel like a teenager waiting for your first kiss.

“Very hard, Love.” He teases you, pressing his body against yours. “Now tell me your wish.” He demands.

“I wish…” You start, moaning in the middle of it, feeling his tongue on your ear. “I wish to be kissed by the most perfect, beautiful elf that have ever walked on this earth. I wish to be kissed by the one and only owner of my heart.” You pause, holding his chin and making him look at you, painfully interrupting his magical ministrations on your ear. “I wish to be kissed by you, Astarion. Right. Now.” 

“Very good, my dear. I think I can make that happen.” He blows the candles near you, letting the cave be only illuminated by the dim light of the almost extinguished campfire a few steps ahead from you. Then he closes his face to yours, muttering into your lips. “Let's make this wish come true.” He whispers, claiming your lips.

And he wasn’t lying, he never lies to you. He gives you the most perfect kiss ever. Like he always does in each kiss he gifts you with. 

It doesn’t matter how loud the thunders roar outside, it doesn’t matter how strong the rain falls, or how cold the wind blows… in reality nothing matters when you’re lost in his arms, when your bodies are entangled like one, celebrating the love that unites you. Everything else vanishes… It’s just you and him. And you really wish it will always be like that.  

—

A week later, you arrive at Neverwinter, a stunning city in the north, divided in two by the Neverwinter River and now painted in white by the snow that began falling some days before. It’s a really impressive city, facing the Sea of Swords. It brims with energy—very lively but not chaotic like Baldur’s Gate, and very well organized. There are merchants in every corner, showcasing the most exquisite jewels you have ever seen, because these folk are masters in the craftsmanship of jewelry and glass. Their gardens are a marvel too, with their flowers blooming every year round, coloring the beautiful streets of the city.    

Nothing feels out of place here, and despite all the torments the city has endured, it stands resilient, rebuilt time and again with an indomitable spirit. Perhaps it’s the hardiness of these people, of the people from the north, used to surviving harsh winters, that has shaped Neverwinter into one of the most prosperous cities in Faerun. And you’re really impressed by it, as is Astarion. You can see how mesmerized he is, how his eyes glitter, especially when you pass through the jewels merchants… 

“Darling, look at that!” He points to a silver tiara adorned with emeralds and diamonds. A very impressive piece of jewelry. “I would love to see it in your head, my love.” 

“It’s way too expensive, Astarion. And I do prefer the crown of flowers you usually make for me… that is too much.” You try to dissuade him, seeing how enchanted he is already.

“But it would be perfect for you to wear tonight. You would look like a queen, can you imagine?” He leans closer to you, lowering his voice. “And no one said that we should pay for it.” He winks, smirking.

You open your mouth to protest, but before you can utter a word, the merchant approaches you, all charm and good manners. “Ah, I see you liked it.” The man gestures towards the tiara. “You have good taste. It’s one of our most intricate works, and it would look stunning on you, miss.” 

“Yes, it would.” Astarion agrees, stepping behind the man and making gestures with his hand pointing to his pocket, trying to provoke you.

With your eyes wide open you keep glaring at him, shaking your head discreetly. “Thank you, sir. It really is mesmerizing.” You say with a polite smile. “But I’m afraid it’s a bit too extravagant for my taste.” 

“Now, now, my sweet. You should try it at least.” Astarion insists, and you know that by now he’s just trying to annoy you.

“Yes, of course! Allow me.” The merchant removes the tiara from the display case and carefully places it in your head. “There. Beautiful, like a princess. Let me fetch a mirror so you can see how astounding it looks on you.” And the man hurries to the inside of the store leaving you alone outside.

“Stop it!” You huff seeing how Astarion instinctively observes his surroundings, studying a route to flee.

“It’s the perfect opportunity, Love.” He notes, still smirking.

“Astarion, we just arrived! Are you trying to get us arrested on our first day in Neverwinter?” You object, harshly.

“But—”

“No.” You cut him short.

Before he can argue further, the merchant returns from the shop and gives you a hand mirror. “Please, miss, take a look.” 

Reluctantly, you lift the mirror in front of your face, keeping your gaze fixed on Astarion, darting him with your sternest glare ever, while he pouts displeased.

“It’s really stunning.” You admit, finally looking at your reflection. But at the same time you take the tiara off of your head and return it to the men’s hands. “Thank you, once again. We will think about it.” 

“Of course, miss. It was my pleasure to assist you.” The merchant bows his head and takes his leave.

“Oh, you can bet we will think about it.” Astarion mutters.

You pull him to get back on the path, wrapping your arm around his. “Forget it, Love. I will survive without it.” It’s obvious by his face that he’s not going to let this go. You adore him, more than anything, but you have to admit that this obstinate side of him sometimes picks your nerves. You roll your eyes, giving yourself a deep breath. “Now, let's find an inn for us to stay. I need a bath, and we still have to find some lanterns.” You remark, proceeding forward.

“And a warm meal. I’m starving.” He adds, while peeking behind his shoulder to the store you just left.

—

You both knock on every inn door you encounter in the city, but as expected, every one of them is fully booked. No rooms, no lanterns, nothing. 

Astarion senses your growing despair as you follow a tip from the keeper of the last inn you tried. You’re getting tired, he can see by the way you drag your feet over the ground, and  you’re probably starting to believe that you won’t be celebrating any New Year’s Eve tonight. But he’s still hopeful. He knows you will find something. Won’t you?

By the end of the day, you arrive at the Driftwood Tavern, far from the city center but with a stupendous view over the sea. And fortunately they have rooms to spare. No wonder why, with those ridiculous prices for one night! He thinks to himself, not wanting to share his thoughts with you this time, sparing himself another of your infamous eye rolls followed by a snort.

The rooms are really cozy. At least that. He throws himself to the bed, kicking off his boots, and watches you undress your traveling clothes.

“I’m going to take a bath.” You announce with some weariness. “We can look for something to eat afterwards. Want to join me?”

“I would love to, my sweet. But we have to hurry, we still have to find at least one lantern for tonight.” He replies, placing his hands behind his head.

“Forget it. We arrived too late. No lanterns for us, Star…” You mutter, a hint of sadness in your tone.

Astarion raises his torso from the bed by supporting himself on his elbows to take a closer look at you. Tossing your clothes to the floor, you pass through him to the washroom, your face closed and not in the mood for jokes or funny stories. “We still have time, you know?” He tries to uplift your spirit.

But he doesn’t hear a word from you. Only the sound of your steps in the room next to him.

Getting up he reaches the door to the washroom and peeks inside just in time to see you pouring water into the tub and instinctively trying to warm it with your hands. 

“Shit!” You yell, scowling. “I can’t even warm my own water!” You kick the tub, frustrated, regretting it right after. “Ouch!” You yelp, holding one foot in the air giving tiny jumps with the other.

Astarion predicts that this will not end in a good way for you, so he tries to warn you, “Darling, please, be—”

Too late. 

You stumble on the bucket, now empty of water, and you fall to the ground. He steps towards you but stays put in the same place, as you wave a hand for him to stop. 

“Let me have my moment of misery, please.” You hiss, holding your knees and hiding your head between your naked thighs, muffling your voice.

“Love, you don’t need to be miserable—”

“Don’t!” You snap. “Just… leave me for a while.” 

And he knows too well that when you’re like this the better thing for him to do is just to let you curse all the Gods you need to recover your good mood. But he can’t help to tenderly smile watching you like that, sitting naked on the floor, infuriated. It’s obvious he won’t let you waste New Year’s Eve being sad. For him it’s a night like any other, but he knows it’s not like that for you… For you it’s a time for new beginnings, and he knows how much you need that. He will find you a godsdamn lantern and make you smile again. And maybe, on his way to find it, he can sneak into a certain store… Who can blame him for wanting to spoil the women he's deeply in love with? You will be the most beautiful and happy woman walking the streets of Neverwinter tonight. 

But before he can go on his demand, he needs to take you out of there. It’s so cold and your skin is already prickling from the chill, and he can’t have that. You’re not getting a cold because of your stubbornness. Astarion grabs a robe, hanging on a chair nearby, and walks to you, covering you with it, kneeling beside you. You lift your head from your legs, ready to protest, but he doesn’t let you. “You can sulk all you want, but you will do it on the bed, in the comfort of the warm blankets and not on this frozen floor, my love.” Without waiting for your permission, he lifts you up from the ground, holding you in his arms. As he expected, you don’t resist, you let him carry you, wrapping your freezing arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder. Even against your will, you find solace in his arms, and he smiles again, leading his cheek to meet the crown of your head. 

Placing you in the bed he tucks the blankets around you. “I’ll ask the innkeeper to send someone to warm the water for you. Then I’m going to get us something to eat and a bottle of wine.” He pinches your chin softly. “I’ll be back in no time.” Reaching for your forehead he presses his lips against it, murmuring. “I love you.” And he kisses you.

He basks in your small smile for a moment, and then he leaves you. He needs to hurry, there is a job that has to be done.

—

It’s already dark when Astarion leaves the inn, and there’s no living soul in the streets. Snow falls steadily, blanketing the cobblestones. It’s cold and it’s almost dinner time, so perhaps it is not that strange that he doesn’t see anyone but himself sulking the streets of Neverwinter at that time of the day. He buttons his coat all the way up to his neck, protecting his chest against the cold, and starts walking, the snow crunching with each step he takes. The tiara’s store is still far away and he doesn't have much time. 

It's an easy and simple plan. He will get in and get out from the store without any setback, preferably with a particular tiara on his pocket, a well deserved gift for the one who makes his heart flutter every day. Oh, he’s picturing in his mind how stunning you’ll be with that jewel on your head, enhancing the preciousness of the real treasure that is you. And grateful, you will be very grateful for his gift, “Astarion! You didn’t need to! But I love it! Thank you, Love!” you will say hanging your arms around his neck. Yes, he can’t wait to see you smile again. He will give you plenty of reasons to smile again tonight. And in the meanwhile he’ll look for a lantern, of course. He can’t forget about that. Maybe he can steal one too, from someone. But he can’t return to you without—

Silence.

Only the sound of the wind and the snow falling around him. And it bothers him… Why in the sweet hells is this bothering me so much? Something is odd. Well, he already pointed out all the motives for the emptiness of the streets… but still, something isn’t adding up. He may not be a vampire anymore, but he’s a rogue after all, and his instincts are still very sharp. 

Stopping in the middle of the street he looks around one more time, his eyelashes starting to become filled with the white snow, like his hair.  

Nothing.

There is nothing stepping out from the ordinary.

When he’s about to start walking again his eyes catch a movement far ahead from him. A kid crossing the street, running at a fast speed. The sound of his steps echoing for a time after he disappears from Astarion’s sight. Was he scared? 

Stepping away from the lamplights, Astarion turns his stealth mode on and walks silently in the shadows. And just a few steps before reaching the corner from where the kid appeared fleeing, Astarion stops again, hearing what appears to be the clanking of metal. Metal hitting metal. He recognizes that sound perfectly. The sound of armor.

What in the hells?

Now he needs to see what's happening. Why is he hearing like there is an army gathering around the corner?

More cautiously than before he crouches and approaches slowly. At the end of the wall he freezes, pressing himself against it, and holding his breath to let his elf ears catch all the sounds they can get. And just like he predicted, a group of men stands just around the corner.

“Remember.” He hears a man whispering. “We must stay together until we are inside the castle.”

“After that, everyone knows their role to play.” Another voice adds.  

Astarion’s heart races, adrenaline flooding his veins. He shouldn’t be there. Nothing in this smells good. What are they talking about? What castle? 

Looking into the horizon he sees the dark silhouette of the imposing Castle Never in front of him. No way… He widens his eyes. Who are they? 

He tries to listen to more of their plans but the beat of his heart is bumping in his ears, like drums beating loudly, and he seems unable to concentrate. Mortality has its downsides it seems, and he's still getting used to it. But his curiosity makes him stay a little longer, and he ventures to peer around the wall. Counting them, he says there are about twenty men there, armed to the teeth, like if they’re going into a fi—

Whistles.

Dogs barking.

More armed men marching into them. Into him. 

Fuck.

In a blink of an eye they are surrounded by guards, Neverwinter guards, probably. 

“Greycloacks!” One of them yells.

And the chaos erupts in an instant. Guards rush forward, unleashing their dogs. Swords are drawn and the clash of steel fills the air, and he has stayed long enough. It’s now time to leave.

But when he spins on his heels a guard is behind him accompanied by a growling dog, his short sword pointed at him, the cold metal of it against the skin of his precious neck.

“Easy, easy.” Astarion protests, raising his hands in the hair.

“By order of Lord Neverember you’re under arrest.” The guard sentences.

“Me?” He asks in a high-pitched tone, incredulous. “But I have done nothing yet!” He exclaims with the continuous sound of men yelling and fighting around the corner as background. 

“Kneel!” The guard commands, and the dog approaches Astarion’s legs showing him his dangerous teeth.

“Just wait a moment!” He waves his hands nervously in the air. “You’re arresting me on what charges?” Astarion tries to gain some time. There must be a way to get out of here. Mustn’t it? 

“On the charges of conspiracy and treachery against Lord Protector of Neverwinter!” 

Astarion laughs. And he laughs so hard that the guard seems to be confused, diverting the sword for a moment from his neck. “Oh, this was fun.” He catches his breath before speaking again. “Well, it seems this was all a very big misunderstanding. You see, I was just passing by. Walking down the street as a normal citizen of Neverwinter.” The clamour of the fighting is calming down, and by the protests he can hear, the so called Greycloacks are losing. “I’m just visiting, I may add. Me and my wife. Can’t wait to celebrate the New Year with you folks. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to get back.” He steps aside from the guard but almost instantly the man reacts, throwing him against the wall and the dog starts barking in anger.

“If that were true you should be with your wife right now, and not wandering the streets alone. You’re a Greycloack, gathering here to conspire against our Lord!” 

After the big commotion on the street has calmed down, people start to appear, opening the doors and windows of their houses to see what’s happening outside. 

“I’m not! I told yo—”

“I said kneel!” The guard growls, exalted, and Astarion concedes that, maybe, this time is better to oblige than to try to dissuade him. He stretches his neck to the side, trying to alleviate the pressure from the sword that is there again, remembering him of his fragile mortality, lowering himself to the ground just as the guard commanded.

“Fine!” He agrees against his will, huffing.   

Stupid son of a b—

“Astarion?” He hears a very familiar voice calling his name. He closes his eyes in the hope that when he opens them again everything was just a dream and none of this is happening. After a while he opens them, turning his head to the side, seeing the one he hoped had never left her room, standing there, staring at him with so many questions in her eyes.

“Why, hello, Darling.” It’s the only thing he can think about to say right now. Shit.

“Hello? But… What happened?” You ask, approaching him quickly.

The guard blocks your way to Astarion, extending a hand to you. “Sorry, ma’am, but this man here is under arrest for breaking the law. I ask you to not interfere.” He tilts his head upwards suggesting you to step back. “Now, move away please.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but this man is my husband! And I want to understand what’s happening!” You argue, stepping forward, defiant.

A small smile of pride tugs into Astarion’s lips, you can be a pain in the ass when you want to, he knows that too well. “See, this is my wife.” He mutters to the guard.

“Ma’am I told you to step away! This man is a Greycloack and he was caught conspiring against the Lord Neverember!” 

“A what?” One more step forward. “You’re making a mistake, he’s nothing of that sort!”

“I won’t ask you again! Backwards!” The guard yells at you, spitting in his anger.

“Sweetie, please—”

“Shut up!” The guard orders, kicking Astarion on the leg.

At that moment Astarion knows that if you still had your magic your closed fists, alongside your waist, would be sparkling with electricity right now, because your eyes are burning and twitching, and that man would be doomed. But since you no longer are able to cast your spells, the only way you have to release that growing warth is to jump to the guard and start punching him the fastest you can. “You will not beat him in my presence!” You keep punching him, giving Astarion a window of opportunity to escape. 

But when Astarion is about to get up from the ground and try to take the short sword from the guard that is clumsily trying to defend himself from you, other guards approach, stopping Astarion before he can do anything.

It takes three of them to stop your fury and to restrain you beside Astarion, your hands tied together. 

“As you were so eager to join him—there! Arrested together!” The guard scoffs. “Some nights in prison will do you good to calm your temper, you crazy woman.” 

“Hey!” Astarion scolds, frowning. No one is allowed to insult you in front of him. But the guard ignores him, moving away.

“And what about him? What is going to happen to him?” You inquire.

The guard turns once more and answers, shrugging his shoulders, “We’ll see if he’s a Greycloack or not.”

“He’s not!” You hiss.

“If he’s not he has a lot to explain. Now shut your mouths or I'll split you right now!” And with no more words the guard steps away, moving to reunite with other guards ahead from you.

Astarion hears you sigh deeply, and then you lean your head backwards, meeting his own. 

“I’m sorry, Darling… I really am. I didn’t want any of this to happen…” He apologizes. 

“Not now, Astarion. Please.” You retort, your voice laced with sadness. 

His heart shrinks with your reply, because he truly means it. He’s truly sorry. The only thing he wanted was to make you happy, to make you smile, and he failed. Miserably. 

Stupid. How could I be so stupid?   

He holds your hand, squeezing it right after, and he waits. It takes a while, and he’s starting to get worried, but finally you hold his hand back, squeezing it softly too, tranquilizing his insecure heart.

Everything will be alright. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll fix this.

Watching the guards gathering the new prisoners, he hopes that they’ll get you out of there soon, because the snow is not giving signs to stop falling in the near future and it’s getting really cold. He’s getting really cold, and you, you’re getting cold too, by the way your hands are freezing already.   

If you get sick because of me, I won’t forgive myself.

It’s enough already that he, with no right to it, had robbed you of the chance to properly celebrate New Year's Eve. 

Thank you so much for reading my story. Likes, reblogs and comments are very welcomed!

Lots of love 🖤

[thebunnednun]

LOYALTY [Chapter 2]

Katsuki Bakugou x Sugar Baby! Reader

Summary: Fuck a breakup, you ever have your fiance and partner of 8 years dump you during his promotion party in front of your bosses and the whole office with the girl he told you, “Don’t worry about,” on his arm?

The man you moved continents to support and move in with while you worked from home and helped promote his hero career because you thought he loved you and he called it an investment in your future together while you just did it out of love?

Welp, now he’s kicked you out in a strange land and you’ve gotta make it on your own. When you can't get a new job or apartment and tuition is almost due: you’ve got two options: Strip it or lose.

And I guess the angry blond that keeps coming back to your club wants to help you too.

I've been holding off on releasing more chapters because chapter 1 didn't do so well. But this is taking off on ao3 so I'm giving it another chance.

Chapter 1 is found here The poster for it contains hints for the next chapters.

Chapter Song is: Cyber sex by Doja Cat

------------------------Chapter 2: Behind the Glass-----------------------

The neon lights of the club flickered, casting a vibrant glow that bounced off the walls and mirrors. The bass of the music pulsed through the floor, a rhythmic thrum that set the tempo for the night. You adjusted your mask and wig in the mirror, ensuring that your identity remained concealed. The anonymity was a small comfort in a job that offered little else.

Marshmallow peeked into your side of the room, her face beaming with encouragement. “You’re going to do great tonight,” she said, her voice warm and reassuring. Her own outfit—a soft, lavender bodysuit with delicate lace trim—made her look like a whimsical dream. “Just remember, they’re here for the show. Give them something to remember.”

You nodded, trying to shake off the nervous energy that bubbled beneath your skin. You had been working behind the glass for a few weeks now, learning the nuances of the routine, mastering the pole, and getting accustomed to the constant surveillance of the security cameras. It was a strange existence, dancing in isolation while the world outside remained a mystery.

The glass panel separated you from the rest of the room, a barrier that allowed you to perform without being seen. On the other side, the room was filled with the occasional murmur of voices and the clinking of glasses. You focused on the task at hand, pulling yourself into a graceful routine that combined elegance with just a hint of spice.

As you began your dance, the rhythm of the music seemed to blend with the beat of your heart. The movements flowed naturally, your body moving in perfect harmony with the rhythm. Your mind wandered to the surprises of the club—especially the frequent visits from pro heroes. It was an odd revelation, but not entirely unexpected. In a place like this, discretion was paramount, and the allure of anonymity must have been appealing even to those in the spotlight.

Halfway through your routine, you heard a yawn from the other side of the glass. The sound cut through the music, startling you momentarily. You couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity of the gesture. It was Marshmallow, likely on her break.

“Are you really that bored?” you called out, your voice muffled by the glass.

The response came with a chuckle. “Not bored, just waiting for you to finish up. Got a special client tonight—one of those ‘high roller’ types. They usually want something a bit… more unique.”

You finished the last of your routine, striking a final pose before retreating to the changing area. Marshmallow was already waiting for you, her eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and sympathy.

“Special client, huh?” you asked, pulling off your mask and adjusting your wig.

“Yep,” she replied, leaning casually against the wall. “Sometimes it’s just a big spender, sometimes it’s someone looking for a bit of extra fun. Just do your best and keep it professional. And if they try anything… well, you know who to call.”

You nodded, feeling a shiver of anticipation mixed with anxiety. As you prepared for the special client, Marshmallow’s reassuring presence was a comfort. You had grown to trust her in the short time you had known her. She had become a mentor of sorts, guiding you through the intricacies of this world.

When the time came, you stepped into the room where the special client awaited. The setup was familiar—a dimly lit space with a plush sofa positioned in the back. The client’s silhouette was obscured by the shadows, and you could make out little beyond the outline of a large figure.

You began your routine, pouring all of your new skills and emotion into the performance. The glass barrier between you and the client created a sense of separation, allowing you to maintain your composure while still delivering an intimate experience. You did your best to remember everything the girls taught you earlier and tried to channel your own sexiness into the dance. 

The minutes seemed to blend together, punctuated by the occasional murmur from the client. As you finished your routine and prepared to leave, you felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. The job was done, and you had managed to maintain your anonymity once again.

Back in the dressing room, Marshmallow was waiting with a smile. “How’d it go?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.

“Not too bad,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “He left a good tip too.”

She gave you a reassuring pat on the back. “Good to hear. Now, let’s hit the gym. We’ve got to keep those moves sharp.”

After your shifts, you and Micheal, or Marshmallow as she was known in the club, headed toward the gym after another grueling night, she glanced over at you with a thoughtful expression. The treadmill’s rhythmic thud matched your steady pace, and you could see her reflection in the gym’s large mirrors.

“You know,” Micheal said, her voice breaking through the thump of the treadmill, “there’s other ways to make money online. Not just the stuff you’re doing now.”

You looked over at her, curiosity piqued. Micheal was a striking woman, her skin a rich, deep brown that glowed under the gym’s fluorescent lights. Her hair was styled in a sleek, ponytail that framed her face perfectly. She wore a workout outfit that accentuated her strong physique, but it was her eyes—full of knowledge and warmth—that drew you in.

“I’m already working online during the day,” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual.

Micheal chuckled and shook her head, pulling out her phone. “That’s cute. But there’s more out there, you know. Look.” She turned the screen towards you, revealing a list of adult apps and websites. Your cheeks flushed as you glanced away, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Don’t be a prude,” Micheal teased, her smile playful. “You don’t even have to show your face if you don’t want to.”

You considered her suggestion, weighing it against your pressing financial needs. The tuition and apartment costs were mounting, and every bit of extra income would help. “I’ll think about it,” you said, focusing on your workout to distract yourself.

When you returned home, exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks. You slumped into your chair and sifted through a stack of rejection letters, each one a reminder of how tough the job market was. After scheduling more interviews, you allowed yourself a short nap, hoping it would recharge you.

The nap, however, turned into a nightmare. You dreamt of your ex, his voice insistent, pressuring you to move to Japan with him. His words echoed in your mind, manipulating and demanding, until you woke up drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. The fear and anxiety from the dream clung to you, adding to your already fraught emotions.

You sat up, wiping your face with a shaky hand, and remembered Micheal’s advice. You fumbled for your phone and shot her a text, asking about the safest website where you wouldn’t have to get nude.

Micheal’s reply came swiftly. She sent you a link to “Secret Admirer,” an app where the user is in control. “It’s a sugar baby app, but the baby calls the shots. You can add a shopping list link and build a profile with pics and videos. Within a few hours, you should start getting messages.”

You stared at the link, your mind racing with possibilities. Micheal’s explanation gave you a small glimmer of hope. “Thanks <33,” you texted back, gratitude mingling with apprehension.

‘Fuck it I’m doing this.’

That evening, you set up your account on “Secret Admirer.” With the help of makeup, filters, and another wig, you created a completely new persona. You named her “Princess Diamond” the antithesis of your real self. Where you were reserved and introspective, Princess was a brash, demanding spoiled brat with an insatiable appetite for luxury. 

You looked at the final result on your screen, feeling a mix of satisfaction and discomfort. This new identity was a way to protect yourself, to shield your true self from the harshness of your circumstances. You hoped it would work, that it would provide the financial cushion you needed to get back on your feet.

At least you hoped it would. 

The basement storage room was transformed into your temporary haven. It wasn’t much—just a simple space with concrete walls and a basic light fixture—but you were determined to make it livable. You assembled your old bed frame and draped plain white sheets over it, creating a semblance of comfort. Around the room, you hung colorful banners and posters, adding splashes of personality to the otherwise drab space. The long changing divider you set up did its best to conceal the boxes of your other belongings, creating an illusion of privacy.

Satisfied with your efforts, you propped your phone against a stack of boxes and dialed Micheal for her input. The call connected quickly, and Micheal’s familiar face appeared on the screen. 

“Hey, what’s up?” she greeted, her voice carrying a tone of casual curiosity. 

“I’m about to do a show,” you said, trying to sound upbeat despite the gnawing anxiety in your stomach. You flipped the camera to give her a view of your makeshift setup.

Micheal’s eyes darted around the room as she took in the scene. Her expression shifted from impressed to contemplative. “Nice work on the quick thinking,” she said with a smile. “Crafty, but you do know it’s going to need to be more hyper-feminine if you’re going to really sell this, right?”

You sighed, looking around at the modest decor. The banners and posters were a good start, but the room still felt incomplete. The bed frame was plain, and the sheets were ordinary. The divider was practical but hardly glamorous. “Just what I was thinking, any ideas?” you said, feeling a bit tired.

Micheal nodded, her eyes narrowing slightly as she thought. “Hmmm, I have an idea. Just keep taking pics and videos of yourself for now. I’ll be in touch with more details.”

She blew a few playful kisses into the camera before ending the call, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You turned your attention back to your profile, updating it with the new photos and videos you’d taken. Despite the fatigue and frustration, a small spark of excitement flickered within you. There were a few new messages waiting, and the prospect of new connections invigorated you.

As you were thinking of settling in for the evening, your phone buzzed with a new text from Micheal. “Join my live,” it read. Your confusion was soon overshadowed by curiosity as you prepared to join her stream.

You set your phone up on a stand and waited for the connection. Micheal appeared on screen, her usual vibrant self. Only she didn't have a top on. The stream ran smoothly, with Micheal interacting with her audience and discussing various topics with you. Everything seemed normal until Micheal suddenly shooed you away from the screen, her demeanor shifting to something more serious.

“Alright, now listen,” she instructed, her voice taking on a commanding tone. “I want you to turn on your music and point the camera towards the divider. Put on a show for me.”

Realization dawned on you. Micheal was supposed to be doing a squirt show right now, and it was up to you to make it engaging. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. You started one of your more seductive routines, moving behind the divider. The muted, private space was your sanctuary, and you poured your energy into the performance, swaying and winding with practiced ease. 

It was ironically a little easier to strip down to your panties in this storage unit than in the club. As you danced, you heard the constant ding of notifications from your phone. The influx of messages and tips was almost overwhelming, and the steady hum of your phone’s vibrations grew louder. It wasn’t long before the phone started to overheat and beep as the screen became uncomfortably warm. You scrambled to throw on your jeans and sweater before you placed the phone in front of a fan, trying to cool it down before it shut off entirely.

The stream ended abruptly as the phone’s temperature soared, and you were kicked out of the live session. Your heart raced as you checked your account, eyes widening in disbelief at the amount of money that had accumulated. The funds were substantial, far more than you had anticipated.

That wasn’t what shocked you though. 

Alongside the influx of money, there was a transfer from Micheal with a note that read, “Buy yourself some pretty things, xxxooo~” Her generosity was both a relief and a source of renewed hope. You marveled at the support Micheal had provided, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and appreciation.

“I love that woman!”

With your phone finally cooled down, you took a moment to reflect on the evening’s events. The unexpected success of your performance was a beacon of hope in an otherwise tumultuous time. Micheal’s kindness and the financial cushion she had provided were a lifeline, giving you the breathing room you needed to continue rebuilding your life.

You closed your eyes, feeling a cautious optimism about the future. The shit show was far from over, but with support from Micheal, you felt a bit more secure. The stream left you feeling a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. It was way easier than working at the club. 

After the whirlwind of emotions, you found yourself staring at your phone, hands trembling as you recorded a voice message for Micheal. You knew she'd probably be in the shower right now to clean off from her "performance". Your voice wavered as you spoke, a mix of disbelief and gratitude evident in your tone.

“Hey Micheal, I— I don’t even know how to thank you. How did you do this? Why? I’m still in shock!” 

You sent the message and waited, your heart pounding in anticipation. A few moments later, Micheal’s reply came through, her voice warm and reassuring.

“Hey there, calm down. I was hyping up your profile during my show. My clients were really interested, and it got you a solid fanbase right off the bat. You’ve got a lot of potential, and they’re excited to meet you. Just make sure to keep everything separate from your real life. Buy things that fit your online persona so you don’t get too attached.”

Her advice was practical and wise, but it only fueled the mix of relief and anxiety you felt. “Okay,” you replied, taking a deep breath. “I’ll get on it. Thanks so much for everything.” You blew her some kisses that you caught before you both hung up and immediately jumped onto Pinterest, scrolling through endless pages of Y2K fashion and room decor ideas.

Your room, now to be decorated in pastel pinks and nostalgic patterns, needed a bit more polish to fit the vibe. You envisioned adding bold prints, glittering accents, and maybe a few playful neon signs to complete the look. With a clear plan in mind, you set about buying new items for your space, making sure to keep the majority of the money aside for your tuition and a new apartment.

Okay, maybe you were looking at that stuff because your ex never let you decorate the apartment how you wanted. 

Just before bed, you decided to go live, just one more time.

As you started the stream, you were pleasantly surprised to see a handful of subscribers already in the comment section. The messages began to flood in:

StarGazer88 : Wow, you look stunning! The setup is amazing!

RetroFan23 : Your room is so cute! Love the decor!

FrightenFae : You’re absolutely beautiful! Can’t wait to see more!

You grinned at the screen, feeling a rush of excitement. Channeling the confidence Micheal had coached you on, you began to speak with a playful, almost teasing tone. “Hey everyone! Thanks for joining me tonight. I’m thinking of doing a Q&A show. What do you guys think?”

The chat erupted with enthusiasm, a chorus of “Yes!” and “Definitely!” filling the comments. Some viewers also requested a room tour, and you decided to make a playful challenge out of it.

“Well, if someone tips $500, I’ll do it,” you said with a wink and a smile, your voice dripping with sweet, sultry charm.

To your astonishment, the screen quickly filled with notifications of tips, and within moments, a user named Spiceman420 had tipped the entire $500.

“Hey, Spiceman420, thank you so much!” you said, beaming at the camera. Your genuine smile lit up the screen, and the viewers went wild with excitement.

As the tips continued to roll in, you tried to keep your composure, but your phone was starting to overheat again. “Guys, please slow down! My phone can’t handle this!” you pleaded, trying to keep your voice light and engaging.

Determined to keep your promise, you stood up and gave the camera a slow, dramatic pan around the room. “Here’s the room tour,” you said with a laugh, showing off the wall decorations and your modest setup.

The comments exploded with praise:

StarGazer88 : The room looks fantastic! Love the vibe!

YourMom69 : It's so cute! You’ve done a great job!

Spiceman420 : Looks pretty barren, Princess.

The last comment caught your eye. You hesitated, then decided to address it directly. “Oh, I actually just moved in and this place was bigger than I expected,” you fibbed with a smile, trying to keep the tone light and engaging.

More questions and compliments came in, many of them asking where you were from and remarking on how sweet you seemed despite your self proclaimed bratty persona. “We’ll see about that,” you joked, winking at the camera. “Thank you all so much for the support! I’m so grateful.”

You yawned prettily behind your hand, then blew a kiss to the camera. “Thanks for joining me tonight. I’m going to call it in. See you all soon!” 

After ending the stream, you took a refreshing shower to wash off the sweat and exhaustion. As you checked your phone, you saw a notification of a $5,000 check from Spiceman420, accompanied by a personal message: 

“For your new apartment, Princess.”

You stared at the screen, feeling a mix of disbelief and gratitude. The generous gesture was overwhelming, and you found yourself on the verge of tears once more. You quickly sent a photo of your hands forming a heart symbol, adding a simple “Thank you so much” in your message.

The read receipt confirmed that Spiceman420 had seen your reply, but there was no immediate response. You sighed, feeling a bit of relief. The money would go a long way in securing your new place and starting fresh.

With a hopeful heart, you settled into your new routine, feeling a bit more secure in your journey forward. The night had been a whirlwind, but the unexpected support and the small victories kept you moving forward.

Bakugou sat slumped in a velvet armchair, his fingers scrolling lazily through his phone as the club buzzed with life around him. The low hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter from his fellow pros filled the air, but it all washed over him like background noise. He was here because he’d been dragged along—again. Designated driver, the role he always got stuck with because everyone else wanted to get plastered and he didn’t trust those dumbasses after what happened the first time.

He stifled a sigh, his eyes narrowing in disdain at the scene unfolding around him. A couple of bikini baristas were eyeing him from across the bar, giggling and whispering to each other, clearly trying to muster the courage to approach him. He didn’t even bother looking up, though; he knew exactly how it would go. One of them would sidle up to him, all flirty smiles and batting eyelashes, and then he’d spend the next few hours scrubbing glitter and body spray off his skin because she’d gotten too handsy. It was more trouble than it was worth.

And to top it all off, his favorite performer wasn’t even here tonight. That had been the one thing he’d looked forward to—seeing her. The first time he’d stumbled upon her had been a total accident, courtesy of Denki, who’d practically shoved him into that private room with an exasperated “Loosen up, dude!” And honestly? Bakugou had been pissed at first, but then she started dancing. It wasn’t even sexual as it was…. almost romantic? It felt personal, like she was performing for just him after a long day. Like it was only the both of them in that warm darkness. 

There was something about her. She never asked personal questions, never tried to flirt or tease like the others. She just danced, with an almost ethereal grace, and then she was gone, leaving him in peace. He didn’t know why, but he found that comforting. Maybe it was because she didn’t try to pry into his life, or maybe it was because he could just sit there, unwind, and not have to deal with anyone’s expectations.

Maybe it was because his mouth didn’t get in the way for once. 

He didn’t ask to see her up close, though. He knew that would break the illusion, the little bubble of escapism he’d found himself enjoying. Did he want a relationship? Sometimes the thought crossed his mind, but between his career, the press constantly hounding him, and his deep-seated distrust of people in general, he couldn’t be bothered. 

He was scrolling through his phone, bored out of his mind, when he overheard a couple of other pros talking about some app. Something about it caught his attention, just enough to make him curious. He quickly made up a bullshit username and started browsing. 

That’s when he found her. He paused, thumb hovering over the screen as he watched the live stream. It was her—it had to be. The dance routine was so familiar, almost muscle memory to him by now. His heartbeat quickened as he watched, and before he knew it, he’d hit the subscribe button. He hadn’t bought the premium subscription to see the pics or videos on her profile yet. No, he wanted to save that for later. 

Then he didn’t even think twice before tipping the $500, his fingers moving on instinct. Katuski wasn’t sure why he’d done it, but when she thanked him personally, her voice soft and warm, he felt something in his chest tighten. He forced himself to keep his expression neutral, refusing to let his face betray how flustered he felt.

Fuck, he was blushing. In public, no less. 

She showed off her room then, clearly just set up, and Bakugou couldn’t help but feel a pang of something like sympathy. So that’s why she wasn’t at the club—she was busy moving in. It made sense now. He found himself feeling oddly moved by her situation, enough to make him send her more money without really thinking about it.

He slumped further into the chair, his mind racing. What was he even doing? He was the number two pro hero in Japan. He’d achieved everything he’d ever wanted, and yet here he was, sitting in a strip club, feeling lost and bored out of his mind. He had everything he could ever want, and yet... now what? 

Bakugou’s gaze flicked back to his phone. The notification from her stream still lingered on the screen, a reminder of the strange connection he formed in his mind. Maybe that was the answer he’d been searching for—something new, something different. Something that wasn’t tied to being a hero. 

He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but for once, he didn’t mind not having all the answers. He’d just see where this path took him.

And then he saw your message.

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

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, If you wanna be added lemme know!

That was the first chapter! So far there are 9 posted on my ao3 account. Chapter 1 is here

Chapter 3 is here

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Farmer Bakugou x Gardener Reader here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡