#Too tired to edit but I think I may have fucked up a few tenses.

[averbaldumpingground]

Dialogue Prompt: "That is way above my pay grade."

It had seemed like such a good idea on paper when Darcy had told her, armed with her nice curling iron and that one dress from the absolute back of Jane's closet that had been hanging there, still in its dry cleaner plastic, since probably some time in the Cretaceous Period judging by how many mom jeans and flannels Darcy had had to excavate past just to find it, that they were going out. An excellent idea, really. An absolute stroke of pure genius.

And, more importantly, her brilliant plan had been working. Jane, pleasantly tipsy, was actually making friends.

Well, one friend. One very easy on the eyes male friend. Who had been totally okay with Jane interrupting his pool game to lecture him and like half the bar about physics or applied geometry or something. Darcy didn't know, but it sounded smart and very Jane-after-two-shots-of-tequila, so it probably still made sense. To people with a bajillion graduate degrees. Or engineers or something.

But Darcy didn't need to understand. She could totally tell that Mr. Tall, Somewhat Bewildered, and Probably-a-Pool-Shark was into it. Like really into it.

And sure, the dude had been wearing some kind of shapeless JC Penney funeral suit, but he was hot. Like really hot but kind of trying not to be. It wasn't working. Darcy still knew he was hot. Because she knew these things. Better than physics or quadratic equations or whatever.

The stranger in the creepy flasher trench coat she sat next to had just nodded. So he had probably agreed. Or been confused. He'd looked a little confused. But Darcy didn't mind. She was so right and she knew it.

And Jane knew it too. Because she was actually flirting!

Or, well, she was talking about gamma arrays. And something about nucleuses. Nucleii. Nuclice? Those tiny little atom thingies that blew up. Yeah, those!

Flasher Dude just blinked at her and kind of cocked his head. So okay, Darcy was drunk enough to narrate these things out loud. It was fine. Totally fine. And Jane showing interest in a guy was worth like a whole David Attenborough documentary's worth of narration. Well a guy who--

And that's when it happened. Because apparently Darcy had jinxed them by thinking about it.

"Really, Foster? The GRETA project? That's how you start talking dirty?"

Darcy groaned. Just one night. Just one frigging night.

"But the structural advancements--"

No. Not this again. Darcy really didn't even want to hear it. She banged her head against the bar. Mr. Probably Drives a White Van poked her shoulder. He looked concerned. Or maybe constipated. Darcy didn't know and didn't want to find out and--

"--really so pedestrian of you. The readings out of Cheyenne--"

"--Uh, Jane, was it? I think I'm probably--"

"--but germanium provides a--"

--just gonna go now?"

The hot guy had set down his pool cue. Nooo! This wasn't how the evening was supposed to go. Darcy had checked both their lab schedules. She knew she did. Overly Pedantic Jerkface was supposed to be babysitting the freshman astrology section tonight. Astromony? Astromasomething. That thing where they stayed up past 2 and--

"Man, that is way above my paygrade."

Hot Guy had gotten his jacket. And Jane hadn't even noticed. No, not even a little. Because she was glaring daggers at Overly Pedantic Jerkface, still in the center of the bar, the two of them openly doing that thing, where they were whisper shouting and stupidly close and Jane was waving her arms in his face. Something something Berkeley blah blah blah Dr. Whatsherface said-- Darcy was very much done.

And the worst of it was that she wasn't even surprised. Nope. Not a little. She had been totally on track to finally getting Jane laid. Which Jane really, really needed.

But then of course he showed up. Of course.

Darcy turned her head, the sticky mojito residue plastering her hair to her cheek. She sighed. Even the trench coat guy had left.

"--the long term implications of--"

She sighed again, signaling for another of whatever was the last thing the bartender had given her.

It was going to be a terrible night.

[dykeomania]

𝒎𝒊𝒂'𝒔 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒔: parenthood (3).

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: parenthood means stress, and endurance, and exhaustion, and learning curves, and ... sometimes, really, really, really good sex?

𝐚/𝐧: this is my Parenthood (Thought) Piece because i understand that i am mentally 30 but i llloooooooooooveeee a good domesticity concept i eat that shit up nnomnomnonmonmnom. i needed to talk about early parenthood with ellie and i needed to talk about some of the ... Alternate Consequences ... of early parenting .. if you will. this was fun. this was also composed between the hours of like, 2-4am. i think it's pretty literate, and kind of alright. you may have a fun time reading it. if you don't, sorry i'll venmo you a dollar. not ssssure if i really have anything else to say, honestly. proofread (at a very early hour, mind you) but i always make mistakes, i'll always edit over time.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: i understand these tags are like super weird and i always preface my fics like "fuck around and find out," but just to be clear, this fic does not sexualize children in any way. any way. just to really make that clear. mentions of you and ellie being engaged. joel's technically alive. mentions of children. parental uncertainty. stress. a little bit of sub bottom!ellie. we're dipping our toes in. also dom top!ellie. mentions of oral (both receiving), mentions of vaginal penetration (reader receiving). both ellie and the reader being milfs / ellie thinking its really hot how you are a good mom (there are still so many things in this category that i could've hit that im probably not even thinking of, so if y'all like this and wanna talk about them, Please talk to me) i write in past tense for literally all of it and this is just a me thing, but that's not really my style, so things may be .. off. or maybe it's just me. maybe i'm tripping. we'll see. it's like, 4am. so.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.1k, just about (i did too much).

.   .   .   .

you both lived on the farm. it was a quiet, proud little life that you lead. a picturesque actualization of all of the little thoughts and dreams that you and ellie have had about living together, about having a family. though, parenthood was new, and difficult. there were some nights that the baby wouldn't stop crying, and both of you would take turns feeling like shit -- one usually at a grander magnitude than the other --  because neither of you would know what to do. what, am i like, a bad mom? does he hate me? you spent time convincing each other that that is simply not the case, and that this was all part of the process. that you were both new, and learning, and that it's okay.

if you knew nothing else, whether that be due to not having experienced parenthood before or the delirium accompanying the heavy set bags and dark circled ruminating under both of your eyes, then you did know that there were a few things for certain: he will suck his thumb. his cries will turn to wails which will turn to sniffles, which will turn to sighs. he will get tired. he will roll over, and coo, and will go to sleep.... eventually.

granted, while this mentality in general made things easier throughout the early days of raising your newborn son, there was still no doubt that it was.. exhausting. in every way. parenting was a constant learning curve, and it took tolls on both of you in different ways. for ellie, she'd get quiet. snippy, even, and gain a little bit too much audacity at times. a snarky remark or demonstration of blatant impatience towards something minuscule, but still hurtful. her frustration would always point toward some deeper issue that she often struggled met with annoyance first, and words second. one of the first things that ellie learned while parenting was that she was really bad at communicating. she'd find herself throughout the first three, maybe even six months, constantly finding ways to say sorry.. even without saying really having said it. like, slipping into bed when after you'd finally went to sleep, and pressing kisses to your temple. or making sure the dishrack was completely empty, so you'd have one less thing to work about. albeit she struggled to verbally explain that while she understood you were too, she was just.. a little tired.

maybe it was the sleep deprivation, or her willingness to take up most of the tasks that required attention in areas other than just the inside of the home. which.. you did have to admit, were a little bit more intense than cleaning and washing dishes. no one asked her to do all of that. she took it upon herself to do extraneous tasks, like fix the fucking roof, during the peak of summer. and you'd always offer to help, truly. but it was always no, i've got it. you've got other stuff to do. you just go play with him, and i'll be in to take over in a little, okay?

you would, at times, have to sit her down and remind her to take it slow. that the roof isn't really bothering either of you, right now, and it won't until .. october, probably. that it's okay to swap out, if need be. she can do dishes, cook if she wants (burn down the house, if she wants), clean up while you go fix the wiring of the fence, tend to the horses, whatever the fuck she feels the need to do, on top of having to do already.

you would have to remind her, that she just can't do everything all at once. and that's okay. but that's also neither of your faults.

both you and parenthood alike would teach her to .. slow down, take it easy, and to talk.

ellie would have to teach you something similar, believe it or not. your back hurt. your tits wouldn't stop fucking leaking, and ever since you gave birth, you wouldn't stop getting these aching migraines that made your ears ring. you quite literally found yourself bending over backwards, trying to do everything all at once all of the time (sound familiar?), because you knew that it was as much of your job as it was ellie's. you can change the diapers, you can pump the breastmilk, you can clean the house, you can stop him from crying, you can read him books (that he couldn't understand, yet, technically), you could do everything. and theoretically, you could. and you would, until it made you frayed, and unhealthy.

that would be enough to make ellie to step in, put her hand on your shoulder, and advise you in a tone that was about as gentle as it was stern:

hey, let maria take him for a couple of days. you're tense -- i can feel you from across the house.

despite the anxiety and the frustration and the sleep deprivation and the exhaustion, you really would feel grateful to be experiencing this trying time together. there were some patterns characterizing it that were obviously stressful, and anxiety-inducing. but there were some consistencies throughout it that were be sweet, and tender. like, running each other warm baths. sitting – either in the bath, with the other, or on the toilet, or the side of the bath – and talking in low volume, not really out of fear of waking the baby, but just to kind of relish in the pocket of peace that existed between the two of you in that moment. the affection never died between the two of you. you were always snuggling close to each other when it came time for bed. always pressing tender kisses to each other's shoulders, holding each other's hands, circling your thumbs and indexes over each other's engagement rings.

… But!

you know... i'm a whore. so honestly, what really spurred this whole thought, is the fact that .. during parenthood your sex lives would practically be nonexistent. and it's not something that either of you really notice, until one of you explicitly brought it up. raising a child -- especially raising one in an environment that you both worked to keep safe, secured, and comfortable -- is a lot of work.

it wouldn't dawn upon either of you until you both were eating one night at the table - another tradition that you did not forfeit. you managed to dance around the subject due to something entirely tangential, and then it hit you, and you said – out of pure realization, ellie, we haven't had sex in .. like, months.

and just like that, the consequences of at least 98 days of involuntarily celibacy hit you both like a fucking truck.

for you, it came in the form of .. the simple reminder that your soon-to-be-wife is really... really fucking physically flawless. you'd notice this everytime she'd wear short-sleeves, or shirts no sleeves, which was really only.. every once in a while, as jackson got colder, or whenever you both woke up. sometimes you'd find yourself looking at ellie's back profile as she sat upright on the bed, adjacent and turned from you, stretching a big, grand stretch, and you'd feel a specific heat beginning to tickle the insides of your thighs. you found it harder to keep your gazes to yourself as ellie exited the shower, muscles apparent, and glistening. her whole body was littered with scars, and yet she was still so gorgeous. it was hard to believe that even for a second you failed to recall – or be conscious of – the fact that as much of a teddy-bear as she was, you were practically dating a fucking sculpture.

naturally, you would act on your desires first. and frankly, ellie would be so willing to lean into them. 

she'd be lying if she said sometimes she didn't wake feeling a bit restless, and like there was only one thing that soothe her. she craved it, sometimes – your hands, on her. all she needed were some quick rubs against her clit and kisses against her skin to motivate her to get out of bed and feed the animals. and she was so, so fortunate to have a fiancée good enough to her to give her just that.

she dared, shame on her, to forget how good you could make her feel. ellie never really let anyone touch her, before she met you. before she met you, she was honestly convinced a lot of the parts "down there" didn't work. she could hardly achieve making herself cum. it’d take so long. ellie hardly masturbated because she’d get impatient in any ordeal that wasn’t some needy, feral 3am occurrence that left her stirring, sweaty, and overwhelmed. it was a lot of buildup for what she saw as, in the end, very little payoff. and as far as other people making her cum went? well, no one had ever gotten that far. frankly, she didn’t think anyone would get that far.

that was until she met you.

it definitely wasn’t easy. there were a lot of tired wrists and upper biceps, and your jaw did get pretty sore. her pussy was gorgeously messy. but her clit liked to hide sometimes underneath the extra skin. when you found it, you learned that it was usually, extremely sensitive. but you told her that that was okay. you could make that work.

you spent a lot of time learning all of the technicalities. what was too much, what wasn’t enough. what to say to her; how fast to rub her.

it paid off, because about a month into dating, you showed her that it — and frankly, anything — was possible. just takes a little bit of time, and patience, kisses and whispers of affirmation how about how good she feels. how good she’s doing. takes some listening, intently, to what she needs. to what her body needs. 

can feel you twitching. you want my finger right here?

fuck, yeah. right there. just like that, baby -- please don't fuckin' stop.

and once you got good at it (and you got so fucking good at it), ellie couldn’t get enough. she jokes, regularly, that that’s one of the reasons why she’s going to marry you.

ellie's voice in the mornings would breathless and empty. all bostonian accent, rasp, and nothing else. they were vulnerable. whenever she'd let you between her thighs and you placed those kitten licks across her clit transitioning into these longer, learned drags, her moans would break, like glass. her hips would shuffle. sometimes, you’d have to hold her still.

no no, fucking running. it’s okay. just let me. can you let me? can you let me take care of you, baby?

fuck. yes. yes, yes, fuck. s— sorry just – oh, fuck.

it would mostly just be wake-me-ups. but ellie's back would always be arching by the middle of it. she'd find herself gasping, and sighing, and fucking -- against your tongue, against your finger -- and gripping onto whatever, all while mumbling to gods she didn't believe in.

that feels so, so so fucking – g–good.

so fucking good to me; feels so good, babe, thinki'mgonnacum–

ellie's orgasms hit her the same way every time. hard. ridiculously hard. leaving her breathing heavy, and screwing her eyes shut while she grasped at your hand, or your hair. her thighs would tense -- sometimes scramble -- and then collapse, after a while. she became this perfect amalgamation of tinted cheeks, chapped pink lips, messy brown hair, and sticky skin. 

she was such a fucking .. painting. she's so incredible.

the plan, as she wrote it, often was to immediately get out of bed after you made her cum. but oftentimes, she couldn't do anything for the first couple of minutes except lie there, body just a sack of bones and jello. her head would rest instead of pressing into yours, or would nuzzle its way deep into your neck. both occasions a precursor to her finally catching her breath. when she moves her head to kiss you, capturing your lips in something thankful, and sweet, it is almost always grounding for the both of you.

better?

so much better. holy shit, babe.

and that's not to say that ellie would never act on her desires. she was always just a little more calculated.

for ellie, her frustrations would creep up on her in the weirdest ways. it would be.. small things. things that were, actually, probably mutual. watching you wash the dishes, even when you’re not bent in a particularly promiscuous way. watching you cook, even when she wasn't really watching you, 'cause she was keeping the baby busy. but what really did her in was watching how you handled your son. something about seeing you have him on your hip, cooing at him or laughing with him, or playing with him, or smothering his cheek in big kisses that elicited these big, big giggles from him, drove her.. a very, questionable? kind of crazy? it was pure. it was so sweet, and most of the time, it was just that. but you were so, good with him. after so many months, despite all of the struggle, you really did blossom into a beautiful, capable mother, who still held the glow and all of the weight from the pregnancy and just–

ellie would realize how good it all looked on you. she would feel.. really proud.

and it made her feel like you ..  deserved something.

you both remember the first night she’d acted on her desires like it was yesterday. it was on the night that you two had hosted a dinner party for all of your mutual close friends and people who you called family. the dinner was a 3-week-long process of grocery picking, tablecloth finding, invitation designing, and recipe collecting. it honestly stressed you out more than it did ellie because, to be honest, she was kind of just there for moral support. it was your idea, after having had maria over for dinner once. and it was a great idea. but it left you drained – defeated from the final week of preparations, which was especially hectic. when you bathed that night, you bathed alone, a little overstimulated from the day. but you’d let ellie run the bath, though. only because she insisted on doing so. 

the soak cured some of the ache that settled deep into your joints, muscles, and bones.. but not all of it. after you'd set the tub to drain, brushed your teeth, and wrapped a towel around your body, you entered the room with an expected level of silence. you slathered moisturizer on your face, over your arms, over your stretch marks. when it came time to take off your jewlery, the rings – except the prized one – came off easily. but when it came to your necklace, your hands were simply too slippery. you sucked your teeth. you always did this. 

you eventually sighed, filling your lungs to call:

hey, bug. can you come help me take this necklace off, please?

ellie eventually would appear behind you, probably shuffling off of the bed or rounding some corner after changing and becoming into her own definition of comfortable. if she seriously complained, you didn’t hear it. you only felt her, how her hand placed itself on your shoulder just to let you know that she was behind you.

some things never change, move your hair over.

you do as asked, and hang your head. ellie's fingers brush against your skin with a kind of delicacy that makes shivers run down your spine. you lift your eyes, catching ellie's in the mirror before you. yours, heavier than hers.

you watched as she fought a smile, or a smirk. either was a given with her, honestly — in retrospect, it was most likely the latter. you couldn’t really tell, though. she’d dipped her head, eyes fixated on her fingers that fiddled with your necklace clasp.

you did a really nice job on the dinner, tonight.

suddenly, you were the one fighting the smile. you watched her, still.

yeah?

oh, you like.. completely knocked it out of the park. you did great. it was really, really really nice.

you didnt know if ellie was referring to the food, or the setup, or the wine choices – whichever. but something about the appraisal made your head buzz, like you were coming down off a two glasses of champagne (which.. maybe you were). ellie successfully removed your necklace, and yet didn’t back away. instead, she pressed herself closer to your back, and tilted her head so that she could speak just above the top of your ear,

you looked really nice, too.

been waiting for you to settle down, a bit. so i could tell you.

you probably hummed something in response, something that was probably suggestive but also thankful at the same time. it gets lost, though. because ellie bent down, and placed these slow, unassuming, appreciative kisses down your neck, and against the plateau of your shoulder. between those words and the way her hands lingered over your skin, the way she was breathing you in and drinking up the moment, and your scent, made you melt into her way too easily. like butter in a warm pan.

you exhale, like you've been meaning to for .. you don't even know how long.

el..

mhm?

you realize though, that the house is quiet. too quiet. there is a stillness to it that makes the pit of your stomach twist, and anxiety and guilt bubble in the base of it before you could even stop it.

...where's our baby?

you felt ellie grin against your shoulder. she masked it with a peck,

he’s at joel’s.

and then you felt her tongue drag across your skin. a long, open-mouthed kiss across the midpoint of your neck. she presses the padding of her tongue against tender flesh, sucks hard enough for blood to make the skin bloom, and almost -- against your own will -- makes your eyes roll shut.

the simple act -- acts rather, of ellie coordinating behind your back to have the baby taken off your hands (you knew it for a few days –  it's always a few days). she thought she was so slick. it was odd, how much relief those three words gave you,

but at the same time, you kind of wanted to be mad at her.

it was hard to, though. but you couldn't think straight, with how her hands were moving over you, over your towel. with her pelvis pressed against your ass, and her lips on your neck.

you tried,

he was fine here. everything was .. fine, ellie.

but she was so..

i never said everything wasn't fine.

i just think... you've had a really long, stressful week.

you hate how your body reacts to ellie's hands smoothing up your towel. your whole body broke out into goosebumps, seemingly trying to fit into the pores of ellie's palm, 

and i think i wanna make it better.

ellie's breath was hot on your ear, and you didn’t realize it, but your head was already tilted. your eyes had begun to flutter closed. you felt yourself, almost swaying against her. your mouth hung as her teeth grazed over sensitive flesh. her tongue pressed against familiar spots that had been untouched -- like the rest of you -- for so, so long. it was too activating.

in your best effort of defense, you spun yourself to turn around to face her. ellie’s head was tilted, her eyes were low. her breath spanned over your mouth while your palm laid flat against her chest. you stalled – shivering, shaking, suddenly caught in a rapture of toiling emotion that you hadn't felt that strongly in .. god knows how long.

her head dipped back into your neck. she pressed her cotton-clad hips against your towel-covered ones, and it just wasn’t enough. it was a lot, and yet, not enough.

your hand snaked over the nape of her neck as you breathed against your cheek, whole body feeling heavy and compliant. your knees were jelly. you could feel your clit. pulsing, and pleading. it ached as you feel ellie's hand slip over the backs of your thighs, inching under the cusps of your ass.

you needed something. you needed anything. you like to think that you had no idea what necessity meant before this moment, because you had never felt it so strongly. it knocked the wind out of you, only leading you to ask – to plead, without pleading,

e... ellie?

and she understood.

ellie’s head lifted from the crook of your neck she crashed her lips upon yours. the kiss was heavy, and deep. your knees buckled, and where you swore you may fall, she made sure you didn’t. you were shuddering, a hand suddenly possessive around the back her neck. her hands suddenly possessive and stabilizing with the grips she held on your ass. months worth of unknown tension relinquished itself in the pushes and pulls you demanded from each other's bodies while teeth clattered and bit into chapped flesh, turned glossy. moans and breaths circumvented between the two of you, and suddenly, the whole room felt like it was on fire.

she delivered a verbal command, teeth tugging at your lower lip as she half-way parted from it, 

jump.

you’d used whatever remainder of your energy to follow the simple instruction, your legs wrapping around ellie's waist like she was your lifeline. they remained around her as your back fell against the duvet, and as she kissed you so deep, your head ran dizzy and your body was left no choice but to arch into her.

you remember your hand smoothing over her abdomen, and reaching up to grab her chest. you remember sighing into her mouth over the fact that you could. you relished in the moan she released your mouth, and only returned it halfway. 

you remember gripping her and massaging her and bucking your bare hips up against her in hopes of making her make that noise again, louder. you remember how she bucked her hips into you in hopes of the same sentiment, her waistband grazing against your bair clit cauisng her to succeed far quicker than you. 

the night was filled with mind-blurring, fuck-until-the-sun-rises kind of sex. sex that you had no idea your body had needed until ellie had given it to you. your body reeled with every kiss that she'd placed over your skin – you’d watched as she peeled back your towel, and replaced bits and segments of the fabric with her lips in soft, attentive kisses.  it was hard to believe that they would transpire into messy, sloppy things. wet, tantilizing things that would trek down the axis of your body. that would hold your body hostage as her tongue and her lips worked on your clit to bring you closer and closer to your third orgasm of the hour. 

your body wasn’t used to it. any of it. it was, however, too used to and hyperaware of having a tiny human in the house that you simply couldn’t wake at this time of night.

you were shuffling, at one point, scrambling to put a hand on your mouth, or to bite your own knuckle.  when that didn’t work, you let your head fall over to a pillow while you fucked up against ellie’s tongue and bit the fabric, trying so hard not to moan. but you felt yourself cracking. 

you’ll never forget how ellie looked up at you. eyes a deep, pointed shade of green as she shook her head – mouth still attached to your clit – which in and of itself had almost made you cry. when she pulled away, it was the only time you let yourself make a noise. only because the whine that was ripped out of you was entirely unanticipated, just like her action.

her breath rippled over your the nerves as she ran her fingertip up, and down your hole. you whimpered, hips shifting up relfexivley, cunt tightening just from the invitation. nearly gushing from the feeling of her beginning to small rub circles against it, instead.

i’ve missed you so fucking much.

she dipped a finger inside of you with such ease, and no warning. a long, slender digit bottomed out inside your cunt, before she pushed in another, and made your jaw go slack. her eyes hung on yours – glossed over with lust and a bit narrow as a result of the devious smile that’d begun to overtake her expression.

she’d begun pumping her fingers.

he’s not here, baby.

it’s just us.

her fingers were so fucking long, you swore to god, you would never want a life without them in it. couldn’t bear another 3, 4, 5 months without having them in you. jesus fuck.

wanna hear you. 

wanna hear you be as loud as you fuckin’ want.

ellie emphasized her words by proceeding to fuck you faster. her tongue latched back onto your clit, rolling over and slurping at the nerves, rolling beads of saliva and your juices into and against the bundle. the sound of your cunt was so encompassing, it was hard to believe that it became the backdrop for the moans that ellie had ripped out of you. that made it into, and mostly out of, the pillow, amidst a sea of praise and bucking hips.

the next morning was luxuriuosly unproductive. ellie had only woke to feed the animals and returned to bed and slept with you until noon. she was always affectionate, come mornings. but especially riding off of the honeymoon buzz of the night prior, she made the morning after memorably tender, often pressing kisses to your forehead, and your shoulder, regardless of how awake both you or she was. she’d whisper sweet nothings into your ear, promises of how much she loved you. how she’s really glad this is how she gets to spend her life, as long as it’s with you. all of the sugary things that eventually caramelize into jokes and giggles and laughter, and that how you’d know it was time to get up.

it’s safe to say that parenthood brought you and ellie both very interesting things. it brought you challenges, and it brought you lows. it brought you highs, and photographs, and moments where you did feel like all of your hard-work was paying off, even when it didn’t seem that way. having a family meant having the opportunity to open your house up to people you who you loved. having a family meant having traditions, and things to fall back on – things that you would develop over time, as you learned more and discovered more of what you wanted. and having a family with ellie meant that you could fall back on each other, no matter how tough things got.

.. it also just meant sometimes having really.. really good sex. 

(whenever you remembered that that was something that the two of you could actually do, that is.)

[deandoesthingstome]

Night Moves - Deleted Scene

@geralts-yenn

Babe, you sent me a Director's Cut ask about Night Moves and I basically lied to you and said I hadn't saved any other scenes that never made it into the story and I promised you a follow up, so here it is.

I wrote this title on what I'm sure was the first doc I started, and this was probably the first scene I actually wrote before I figured out the crime portion of the story. Also, I may have intimated in the Ask reply, that Alex wasn't as into his desire to control her, but it's not that she didn't want to be controlled, as you will see, it's just that she didn't want him to BE so controlling. Hopefully you understand the nuance i was going for, but ultimately scrapped.

Deleted Smut Under The Cut - no edits or betas

Sex with Walter - not sure how we get here but:

Alex folds herself over his chest, grabbing his chin through his beard and kissing him hot and deep. She is hungry for him, and is a little tired of the careful way he’s handling her. Can’t believe she hasn’t gotten his cock deep inside her yet, She’s going to change that now.

“Where are your condoms?” she whispers into his ear.

Walter grabs her arms and tenses, as if he’s about to peel her off him. “Fuck.” He closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at her directly when he admits how unprepared he is.

“It’s okay. I was hoping we could just pull some out of the drawer here. But I can go grab my purse.” Alex kisses him again, gentle and forgiving, ending with a quick peck. “Be right back.”

She hops off the bed and debates a shirt, but doesn’t want to waste anymore time. In the few moments she’s down the hall and back, Walter sheds his underwear and leans back against the headboard, taking himself in hand to stroke and keep himself ready for her.

She peeks her head back in the doorway, hand raised with a full strip dangling down from her fingers.

“No pressure, I just wanted to make sure we had some options,” she grins and he can’t believe this is the same woman who was losing her shit at Rachel a few days ago. She steps in and closes the door behind her. “Is this okay?”

“A handful of condoms?” he scoffs. “Yeah, more than fine.”

“A closed door. You didn’t seem interested in shutting it earlier. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to keep it open.”

Walter ponders what she’s actually asking. A closed door does feel more intimate, but he thinks this is what she wants, so he gives a little shake of his head. “It’s fine. C’mere.”

She pads around the bed again, tearing off a packet and dropping the rest on the nightstand. She holds it out to him with a questioning look and he takes it from her.

“I’ve got it.”

Alex watches him slip the condom out of the foil and roll it down his length, pumping a few times to smooth it out and make sure it’s on snug. Then she climbs back over him on her knees and settles herself on his hips, tucking his sheathed cock forward almost as if it was her own. He gives her a questioning look, like he’s not sure why he just wrapped up if she wasn’t going to slide right on, but she smiles and glances down her belly to where the back of her thumb is teasing her own clit.

When she’s sure he’s watching too, she wraps her fingers around him and pulls slowly, making sure her thumb slips inside on every return.

“Fuck,” he groans and she dips low over him again, leaning her weight onto one knee and shifting onto the other foot so she can lift up and tuck him under her. When she feels his tip at her entrance, she sinks down on him, sitting back onto both knees and holding in place to feel the delicious stretch. She grinds her hips back and forth a little, shifting him around inside her and letting the space open around him.

His hands are on her hips now, kneading and pressing, pulling her with each grind towards him and helping her push away on the return. Walter thinks her tits are amazing and as much as he wants her to lean over so he can get one in his mouth, he also thinks he’d like to just squeeze them again for a bit. He shifts his hands up her sides, cupping her breasts when he reaches them and thumbing over the hardened nipples.

Alex licks her lips at the pleasure of it, hoping he might do more than just tease. But a tease’ll work. She isn’t complaining, she’d just love a little more. As if he could almost read her mind, he slips a hand back to her hip and then down into the space between them, taking a cue from her earlier action and sliding the tip of his thumb over to rub at her pearl. It’s not exactly what she needs, but she can work with it.

“Fuck yeah,” she sighs.

She grinds into his finger and gets his cock deeper in her at the same time. The sharp jolt against her cervix wakes her up and she finally falls forward to capture his lips with her own, keeping his hand trapped between them.

It's a flurry of grunts, and thrusts, and bounces then and it doesn’t take long like this for her to find another little release. But as unlike any other man she’s met he is, in this one way, Walter’s like ‘em all. 

The condom dulls the sensation of her walls around him and while he can feel the little squeeze of her orgasm, it isn’t like he can’t resist it. So he does. He keeps pumping up into her and when she pulls back to sit up he chases her with his mouth, wrapping his arms around her lower back and sitting up with her.

He urges her to wrap her legs around him, but she does the unthinkable and actually lifts up off him. 

“Everything okay?” he questions, arms still holding her close.

“Oh everything is more than okay. Just wondering if we could switch it up a little?” she bit her lip with a wicked smile.

“What’d you have in mind?”

Without speaking, Alex begins to crawl backwards down the bed on her knees. When she’s clear of his chest, she falls forward on her hands too, but keeps moving until her knees hit the edge of the bed.  Walter is confused and thinks she might be getting ready to lower her head to his condom-wrapped cock, but she grins again and shifts a hip out to the side, swinging her head around to look back behind her. When she looks back at him, the lust is apparent.

“Yes ma’am,” he grins, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and walking around to the end. As soon as his hand meets her hips, he’s lining himself up and she’s pitching forward, ass still high in the air. Once he’s fully seated, Alex grinds back up against him with a continual roll of her hips that he can tell is driving her crazy. He imagines this is what a lap dance would look like if he were sitting with her pressed up against him.

Walter clenches his jaw now, not really wanting to think about the club, or her stripping, or anyone stripping for that matter. He just wants to fuck her raw. He slows down because if he doesn’t he’s going to keep going, harder and harder and he doesn’t want to do that to her. Not on a first time. As if he could be sure there’d be more times. 

Though he wonders for a split second if maybe, just maybe, he were to show a woman who he really was, it might make it easier for them to decide upfront if they want to stay or go. But no, never let them see that, he thinks to himself. He’s suddenly snapped out of his internal monologue as Alex peels herself up from the bed back to her knees, draping her arm back to trace around his neck. She grips him as she tilts her head and brings his lips to her neck, then leaves him there while her arm skims down his side to his hand on her hip.

She grabs a hold and drags his hand up her belly and over her tits to place it at her throat and he freezes for a moment.

Alex senses his hesitation and gently presses her forefinger and thumb into the back of his hand, urging him to squeeze.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, leaning her head back into him. “I want this. I’ll tell you when to stop, okay? I’ll tap your arm.”

“It’s not…”

“It is. It’s so good. Please Walter,” she pleads and how could he say no?

And the following morning, though this makes no sense since they were clearly at Walter's the night before, but there you go... LOL! SMDH.

Are you leaving?

I wasn't...

Without saying goodbye?

I didn't want to wake you. I wasn't sure if you'd feel different about this in the light of day, so I ...

Thought you'd slip out unnoticed? That I wouldn't miss you surrounded as I am by all these other guys? Come back to bed. Please.

[hansensgirl]

not all who wander are lost.

summary. | He’s got your name on his tattoo, wearing the same damn clothes since three days ago. A bottle of gin in his hand, and you’d say he’s just wandering.

warnings. | Strangers to lovers, smut, naive reader, mentions of trauma, angst, fluff, slight violence, slight dub/con, slight blasphemy, drinking, DD/LG, daddy kink, corruption kink, ring/hand kink, size kink, creampie kink, teasing, spanking, choking, spitting, manhandling, praise, male masturbation, handjob, degradation, a bit of humiliation, oral sex, virginity loss, marking, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI.

word count. | 11k

pairings. | Daddy!Destroyer!Chris x Little!Reader.

a/n. | one of the few fics inspired/based off of chemtrails over the country club. please heed the warnings and don’t forget to reblog. ily! thank you so much to @dragon-of-dreams @mypoisonedvine @tenuntilfightcall and everyone else for helping me out with some information! and thank you to my bb sara @asadmarveltrashbag for beta-ing and being there for me during this insane month, ilysm!!

The first time he laid eyes on you, was six months ago.

Meadows like the ones that surround him only exist in movies and Instagram posts. But even those need editing for perfection. Yet, the ones around him made him feel as though he has camera lenses for his eyes. Each piece of grass is a beautiful green, and some had flowers between them. His thighs may hurt but the view is a reward for all the trouble he just went through. A cute cottage lies on the hill he stands on. It resembles one from a Pinterest board but he doesn’t mind.

Birds chirp, sheep bleat, cows low and chickens cluck amongst Ella Fitzgerald's rendition of Summertime. Chris walks a few more steps and onto the porch he goes. This isn’t his destination. Well, technically, it is. But he isn’t supposed to be knocking on your door like he is now, and his heart shouldn’t be beating out of his chest. To the right of this cottage — Chris’s right — is another cottage.

It’s more modern than he’d prefer it to be. It only looks so because inside lives a drug lord who is on the run. It’s truly unfortunate his girlfriend sold him out for immunity. He knocks on the wooden door and takes a step back. Who knows what kind of person is behind it. “Coming!” your sweet voice calls. Chris doesn’t let go of his grip on his gun that’s down the waist of his pants.

Even the sweetest seeming things can always end up being sour.

You struggle not to trip over your own dress. The tail of it drags behind you and sweeps the floor, too. But it makes you feel just like a princess, so you don’t care. On your hip is a basket, and inside is Cotton. Your bunny. She’s been your company for years, and you don’t know what you’d do without her. Barely anyone visits anymore, only because cars can’t handle the long drive up and many people hate nature. But when the occasional knock on your door echoes throughout the house, you can barely keep your excitement inside.

You open the door and gasp. The man… is brooding. And he’s not the type of broody that would grumble insults under his breath or the type that would stalk people, either. He’s the dreamy type, the man your parents say is bad news when really he just needs love. You take in his form. You can tell he’s slightly tired and you just have to give him credit for walking up to your home. He has no flaws, except for the dirt that stains his clothing.

“Hi, do you live here?” the strange man asks, looking around the inside of your home. You jump and you’re not sure why but your skin raises with goosebumps. His voice is deep yet so soft-spoken. For some odd reason, his hand is reaching backwards and you assume that it’s because he has some sort of ache from the walk. You finally register his words and look up at him.

“Y- yes, do you live here?” you stupidly ask. You don’t even realize what you just said until you noticed his puzzled look. “Oh, sorry,” you look down and notice that his black boots are covered in pollen, something that can be oh so bothersome. “‘S’alright, I was hiking a- and I don’t have anywhere to go… Do you think you could let me stay here?” he asks, letting go of the gun. “Uhm, s- sure, what’s your name?” you ask him, moving out of the way.

Naive, so fucking naive.

“Chris, what’s yours?” he asks, stepping inside. You give him your name and he nods. He goes to wipe his shoes on the rug in front of the door but there is no rug. You hand him a rag and he gratefully takes him, mumbling a small ‘thank you.’ “Are you a tourist?” you ask him, setting your basket down onto the floor. Cotton hops out of it and runs off to the kitchen, probably to chew on your apron. “No…” he solemnly answers. He hands you the rag back and you shyly take it.

“O- okay… Are you a photographer? I’ll tell you God’s truth, the most beautiful photos are taken when the sun rises, when it sets and when it’s raining,” you pointedly inform him. You drop the rag into your basket and turn back around, your dress spinning in a slight swirl. His eyes rake your body up and down, taking in every inch of your body. Red cloth with white polka dots covers your body and your mushroom earrings bring the entire outfit together.  Chris has to assume that the heavens above or whatever the fuck else is there have handcrafted you to absolute perfection.

He’s never read any stories about Greek gods, but he knows that Zeus would be absolutely infatuated with you. He takes note of how your body tenses up when he makes eye contact with you, and he gives you a small smile.

“I’m not a photographer,” he clarifies, looking around. He can’t believe you let him in just like that, but the more he found, the more he understood why. A lonely, innocent little girl like you doesn’t have anyone to tell you right from wrong. “Then what are you, sir? Are you lost? I can call the Consulate if you’d like,” you offer, walking towards him. “I’m not lost… I’m a wanderer,” he whispers almost hesitatingly.

“But you only ever wander when you’re lost, no?” you confusingly ask him. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, before peering out of the window. Luckily, he has a direct view of the other cottage. He really did hit the jackpot. “Not all who wander are lost, little girl. Now tell me, why would you let a stranger inside your home?” he asks you.

Cotton hops from the kitchen to your bedroom, and you stand in place. “I… Well, I’m not sure. You didn’t give me any reason to not let you in or to make me believe you’re dangerous, sorry…” you shyly tell him. “Don’t apologize, just know that not everyone in this world is good. There’s always going to be someone with a little more darkness than the rest of us…”

Chris unzips his duffle bag, and you let out a giggle. “Quite ominous of you, but then again, it suits your whole aesthetic. The cool, bearded man, with his cool words,” you smile at him, but it carries a bit of sadness. “Treat this place as your own, make yourself at home. And if you need anything, I’m always here.”

Chris stays at the window for most of his days. Always with a pair of binoculars and a pack of saltine crackers. Sometimes, he pulls a juice bottle out of his duffle bag, You’ve countlessly offered him something that’s actually filling, such as angel cake and sandwiches. He rejects them all, and you wonder if he’s some sort of super-human. But technology hasn’t invented wireless technology yet, so it’s impossible.

“Uhm, Mr. Chris-Sir? I don’t think those crackers are good for you, they’re all you eat…” you sheepishly admit, carrying a cup of water to him. The mug has a little frog painted on it, but the green paint has chipped away over seven years. You set it down gently, onto the table next to him and Chris just stares out at the cottage. “Bird-watching is so cool, isn’t it? If you see a robin, let me know, they’re so beautiful,” you tell him, before walking off.

At first, he doesn’t take in your words. But once they’ve settled deep in his mind and sunk in, he realizes that you assume he’s bird-watching. He’d honestly take any other assumption, but at least you don’t know he’s spying on the criminal next door. He looks down at the table with a sigh and then notices what you’ve done. Not only did you set a cup of water down, but you also gave him two slices of toast. One has strawberry jam on it, and the other has melted butter.

His mouth surprisingly salivates, but it also doesn’t shock him. Every day he sits there, basking in the beautiful smell of your food and humming. His personal favourite is the smell of focaccia bread being baked. He watches and waits until you leave the room to go tend to the chickens. Apparently, one of them laid a few eggs. He quickly shovels the two slices of toast into his mouth and downs the glass of water like a starved man. Because he is one.

Cotton hopes around once again but all Chris sees is a fluffy white blur. He recalls his memories from when he was younger. Younger him always wanted a pet. Even a fish that would die in the span of two weeks would suffice. But his mom couldn’t afford it, so he dropped the idea. Sometimes, he wishes he had dropped other ideas, as well. Like the idea that he’d enjoy life as an undercover agent, or the idea of sacrificing himself for Erin.

His fingers are sticky with jam. He hates the feeling. He spreads his fingers out and goes to get up from his seat. “Shit,” he curses, realizing that something may happen while he’s away from the window. He stands there, contemplating whether or not he should risk his mission just to wash the fucking jam off of his stupid fucking hands. He calls your name, loudly, hoping you’ll hear him all the way outside the cottage.

“Is everything alright?” you shout, running inside the house. He didn’t expect that reaction, but he’ll take it. You’re holding onto the corner of two walls, slightly bent over. Your chest, your beautiful chest, is the first thing Chris lays his eyes on. He nearly chokes on his saliva, and he just can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. “Uh, hi, I need help,” he gruffly says, his voice a bit deeper than usual. He clears his throat with a loud ‘ahem’ and you begin to stand up straight, much to his dismay.

But he doesn’t think the image of your tits nearly falling out of your dress will leave his mind any time soon.

“Of course… Did you enjoy the toast? I can make you some more if you’d like,” you shyly offer him. “It was good, but I’m fine, thanks though. Can you stay here, right at the window, while I go wash my hands? If anything happens, you have to tell me.” Chris doesn’t leave any room for argument, but your curiosity and naivety get the best of you as always.

“What happens if I don’t tell you?” you ask him, walking towards the window. He blocks your path and suddenly personal space is no longer a thing you need. “You don’t want to know what I’m gonna do if you don’t, little girl,” he warns with a hint of lust in his tone. You nod your head and feel tingles bloom just above your core. You’re not sure whether they’re butterflies or those tingles.

Chris walks past you and you quickly rush to the window. You never realized how beautiful this view is until now. The sun is bright, angled in the most perfect manner so that it doesn’t shine directly in your eyes. The sky is so clear, even with the occasional fluffy cloud that always manages to look like some animal. The window blows gently, shaking the sheer curtains that frame you. You sigh and fold your arms, resting them on the windowsill.

You lay your head on your arms and stare out the window with joy filling your heart.

Chris watches you as you look out the window. You’re slightly bent over, once again. Your ass sticks out, and you subconsciously sway your hips side to side, almost purposefully teasing him. Your white dress has a few strings hanging from the hem, but it doesn’t make you look any less gorgeous. He feels like he’s in a dream.

Not only because of the beautiful scenery, and the beautiful woman in front of him but also because he’s trying his hardest to wash his hands quickly, but his movements are so slow. He looks down and rubs his hands together at a furious pace. Chris hears you gasp and he looks up. “Did you see something?” he asks you, turning off the sink.

“Yeah, my neighbour! I haven’t seen him in months, I need to go say hi,” you tell Chris, before rushing out the door. He only then registers your words once you’ve run out of the house and into the unknown. “Fuck- Wait!” he yells after you. He runs behind you and is so grateful when he notices you haven’t gone too far. But you’re still running and Chris’s target is about ten meters away, so he decides to do what he does best.

He decides to save you.

Chris’s feet hit the ground harshly, crushing the flowers beneath him. Running in socks isn’t fun, but at least he has something to protect him. He calls your name and crashes into you with all the force in his body. You both go down and hit the ground from his fierce tackling technique. You go to cry out in pain and lose your mind, but Chris clams his hand over your mouth. “Shh, be quiet. You’re not hurt, okay? I’m sorry I had to do that, but you can’t go running off like that,” he lectures, throwing his right leg over your body. He frames you down, and you don’t have much room to move. You’re frozen in place, chest heaving, and you furrow your eyebrows at his words.

“Listen, I need you to listen. You may not know me and I may not know you, but when I tell you to do something, you’re going to listen. Understood?” he chastised with a harsh tone. You nod meekly, like a little kid who just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “And just so you know, that sweet neighbour of yours over there is wanted by the Feds.” Chris looks over his shoulder and doesn’t see the man there anymore, so he begrudgingly climbs off of your body.

You gulp thickly, out of fear and nervousness. Chris doesn’t seem to want to add on to this newfound information, so your anxiety makes work of it. For all you know, your neighbour could be a murderer. Chris senses your nervousness and gives you a pat on the head, almost as if you’re his pet.

Unbeknownst to you, the sight of you under him, helpless and with his hand clamped over your mouth is something that gets his blood (and hand) pumping. He helps you up, and you don’t even realize it until he brushes some dandelion seeds out of your hair. “Thank you… and thank you for saving me, I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” you shyly speak to him. He nods and shoves his hands into his pockets, finding an old cigarette from before he quit.

“‘S’alright, I just need a few things from you,” he gruffly reassured. “O- Of course, anything for my guest and for the man who saved my life,” you beam with a small giggle punctuating your words. He basks in it, almost as though it’s sunlight over a beach. “Ah, you flatter me. Just tell me about yourself, I’m going to be staying for a while,” he says as he turns around to walk back inside.

A bottle of gin is in Chris’s hands. The colourless yet pale yellow liquid swishes inside its rightful bottle. It’s half full, only because last night, he downed the rest. He hasn’t drunk in a while. Since he got over being left for dead. And that’s only six months ago.

He’s shirtless. Only left in his grey jeans and jewelry. His rings clink against the glass bottle and his bracelets hang a little past his wrist. The gunshot wound on his left side had a faint scar on it. He hates it. Every single time he stares in the mirror, that fucking scar just stares back at him.

His father told him it makes him seem more ‘manly’, but it just feels like a point of weakness. Maybe if he was a little quicker, he would’ve saved that bank teller. He would’ve gotten Silas behind bars. He would’ve been able to be proud of himself.

Chris groans at the memories and spins the cap off of the bottle. It flies somewhere across the room, probably hitting one of the wood walls. He mumbles a ‘fucking hell’ and brings the bottle to his lips. The last time he drank like this was three months ago, and he ended up fucking the bartender.

She was bent over the counter, her tits spilled out of her bra and his cock pummeled into her sloppily.

She ended up kicking him out after they were done.

Chris groans again and sits down on the bed, kicking his legs up. His pants are stained with the pigment of dandelions and grass. The splotchy stains are juxtaposed to the grey of his old jeans. They have wear and tear all over them, but he doesn’t care.

Every now and then, he sighs — he sighs quite deeply. The puffs of air come from deep inside his chest. He tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling, thinking back to earlier today. He smiles to himself, recalling the way you looked so innocent beneath him.

He’s only known you for a few days, and he already has lewd thoughts for you. Fuck. He just can’t help himself, though. Especially with your innocent doe eyes and pretty little dresses. He closes his eyes slowly, using that memory to fuel his much-needed mental images.

You’re beneath him once again, but you’re naked. His hand is wrapped around your throat, and he’s naked too. His cock is slowly driving in and out of you. He’s teasing you. Your pulsating, wet walls hug his fat cock, and you’re both moaning softly.

“Daddy…” you whisper to him, clenching around his cock. “What’s wrong, baby?” he softly asks you. “Please fuck me harder, please, Daddy,” you beg to him, before biting down onto your bottom lip. “I don’t think you’ll be able to take my cock like that, baby,” he shakes his head.

“I can take it, Daddy, I’m your good girl.”

Chris opens his eyes and his right hand has found its way down his boxers. His cock is all swollen and hard, hard as a rock. He places the bottle of gin down on the bedside table and gets himself all comfortable. Chris slowly begins to stroke himself gently. He goes from the base all the way to the top, and then back down. His thumb occasionally swipes against his leaking tip and all he can think of is teaching you how to make him — your Daddy — feel good.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans, feeling a vein throat against his hand. He moans your name and speeds up his movements. His fingers are slightly sticky, but it’s the type of sticky he doesn’t mind. He begins to slow his hand down, and he sighs, not wanting to come just yet. He hasn’t been this hard in ages, and touching himself feels so fucking good.

“Did you say my name? Is everything alright?” you ask, barging into his room. He jumps and his hand flies out of his pants. You both stare at each other, not even daring to blink. You eventually break eye contact and notice the bottle of gin sitting on the bedside table. There’s only a sixth of it left, and you frown. You don’t like it when people you care about drink. “Uhm…” he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck and then takes in your form.

You’re in a nightgown, and it’s sheer as fuck. The gin gets to him and his mind has a slight buzz to it. His heart beats rapidly and his cock throbs with want and need. Chris’s eyes rake up and down your body like how they usually do whenever you’re in front of him. His mother would scold him for ogling at you, but he just doesn’t care anymore.

“I- I am so so so sorry, I should’ve knocked. I just thought you needed help with something because I heard you say my name, but sometimes I just tend to hear random things, so sorry,” you apologize in a panicking manner. You slowly walk back to the door, but you don’t turn around. Your bare feet leave a faint imprint on the floor from the cold sweats that have taken over your body.

“Come back here,” he orders, sitting up on the bed. Chris’s unbuckled belt clanks quietly, and he begins to remove it in one quick motion. You gulp thickly and exhale shakily. You slowly walk to where Chris is sitting, and he pats the spot next to him. You’ve never had such an interaction with anyone, ever. You sit down next to him, but you keep your distance.

Alcohol should not be called alcohol in Chris’s utmost humble opinion. No, it should just stick to its nickname ‘liquid courage’ because it’s more accurate than anything else. He may not seem like it, but he’s just a man who doesn’t have the heart to do much. Adrenaline doesn’t exist for him anymore, not since the incident.

Chris turns his head and stares at your pretty face. You look down, unable to make eye contact with such a God-like man. You have to assume that even Apollo is envious of Chris’s beauty. “How’d you hear me? Because I know these walls aren’t thin enough, and I know I wasn’t being loud, so tell me; How’d you hear me?” he interrogates you like one of Silas’s companions, but this time is slightly different.

Lust is what’s pumping through his veins, not rage.

“Uhm, well… My room was right there, and I wasn’t doing anything but thinking, and since your bed is against the wall, I- I heard you say my name,” you explain shyly. He hums, and you’re not sure whether it’s a hum of delight or disbelief. “Thinking of what?” he presses, inching his body closer to yours.

You continue to stare at his hand, even though you can feel his heavy breathing against your face. “I… Well- I was uh,” you stutter embarrassingly, and it makes you burn up with shame. “Spit it out, little girl, and don’t think of lying to me,” he growls, placing his hand on your thigh. Your gaze follows his movements, and you take in the set of rings that adorn his fingers.

They’re all black and of similar styles. One has a skull, one is completely plain, one has a cross on it and the last one has the word ‘Daddy’ engraved on it. His veins are so prominent. They bulge out with intensity, and you’d just love to trail your fingers along each of them. “Am I going to have to force an answer out of you?” he roughly asks. His other hand goes to the back of your head and he brings your gaze to his face.  

You quickly shake your head in objection, and he raises his eyebrows for you to spit your answer out. “I was thinking about you, and the way you tackled me…” you admit to him in a low and soft voice. “You liked the way I was on you, little girl?” he asks, moving his hand to the back of your neck. “Y- Yeah, made me feel all… Tingly…” you whisper to him.

“I want to hear you say it, little girl,” Chris ushers, squeezing the back of your neck slightly. “I liked the way you were on top of me…” you tell him breathlessly. “Good girl,” he praises in a slightly deep voice. He pulls you onto his lap and you gasp. His hard, wanting cock is right under your thighs, and you exhale nervously.

“You feel that, little girl? That’s all because of you, you did this to me. And you’re proud of it, aren’t you? Got me so fucking hard just because of you.” Chris squeezes your waist, and you really can feel it all. He’s not wrong, either. You’re so proud that you’ve made a man like him so desperate for you. “Do you know what I was doing, little girl? I was jerking off to the thought of fucking that cunny of yours until you’re begging me to stop,” he growls in your ear.

You moan softly, and the picture comes to mind, making your pussy gush with want. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asks, placing his hand on your inner thigh. You nod, and he raises his eyebrows in warning again. “Yeah, I want that so bad,” you murmur to him. You and your pussy want him so bad. Chris’s hand inches further up your thighs until he’s just an inch away from your bare pussy.

Your thighs are already slightly sticky from your arousal. “Do you know what jerking off is, little girl?” he asks, pulling his hand away from your pussy. You hold back a pathetic, child-like whine, and he begins to lift up your nightgown until he sees your naked body. “Kind of… Isn’t that when a man touches himself? Like how women touch their… down there?” you innocently ask him.

Chris chuckles at how cute you are. So innocent yet oh so slutty. “Have you ever touched yourself, little girl?” he asks, lifting the nightgown over your head. It’s strewn across the floor behind you, and neither of you cares. But you quickly use your hands to cover your most precious, most private parts. “No, no, I don’t want to see any of that. You’re so beautiful, baby, you’re built like an absolute angel,” he husks, and you feel so flustered that you can’t help but giggle.

“T- Thank you… And I’ve done it a few times,” you inform him. Chris nods and smirks, catching the way your nipples have pebbled up. “Have you ever made someone feel good before?” he questions, trailing his broad hands up and down your body. “N- No, it’s pretty lonely up here…” you almost-ashamedly admit. He coos at you. “Do you want me to teach you how to make me feel good, little girl?” he questions, palming your tits.

You moan softly and rub your thighs together as he pinches and pulls at your hard nipples. You’re so small in his large hands, it makes him even harder. You nod your head fervently, wanting to make Chris feel so fucking good. Chris takes his hands away from your body and shifts you in his lap. He reaches down his pants and pulls his cock out of his boxers.

You gasp, having never seen something as big as that. He smirks and uses his right hand to grasp the base of his thick cock. Chris brings your dominant hand down to where his cock is and guides you to wrap your fingers around him. Chris shudders at your soft touch, and he moans softly. “Good girl, yeah,” he praises. “Wrap your hand around me a bit tighter, baby,” he urges, and you do exactly that.

He groans loudly and a small smile stretches across your lips. “N- Now, you’ve got to move your hand up and down. Start off slowly, go all the way to the tip, and then back down,” he instructs, even though he’s helping you out. His hand brings yours all the way to the tip, and then back down; just like he said. His hand leaves yours and goes back to feeling up your pretty body.

“Now do it by yourself, but in a twisting motion, little girl.”

You listen to his words and jerk him off, feeling yourself get wet as his cock twitches in your hand. Your clit throbs and so do the veins on the side of his shaft. Chris curses, and you bite down on your bottom lip. “Good girl, just like that. Fuck, your hand feels so good around me,” he moans, squeezing your waist. You focus on his cock, watching as pre-cum leaks from the tip and down the side of his dick.

It drips onto your slow-moving hand, and you exhale as your movements grow a bit faster. You look at him, watching as his pupils darken with lust. You can tell — it’s written on his face — he wants you to go faster. Your hand speeds up around his cock, making him a moaning mess. “Fuck, you’re such a good fucking girl. You like making me feel good, don’t you? So eager to please like the good little girl you are,” Chris husks.

His praise goes straight to your needy cunt and he knows this because he can just tell. Your thighs rub together, your breath hitches, you let out a giggle and squeeze a little tighter around his cock. Chris’s hand goes up to your head and smashes your lips against his. You both moan into the kiss, and you straddle both his thighs to get more comfortable.

You place your other hand on his cock and mimic your dominant hand’s movements. You try to keep up with the kiss, but you just can’t. Teeth clash and so do tongues as Chris moves his mouth against yours. He pants and his chest heaves as you continue to stroke him. “Go faster, baby,” he urges, and he pulls his mouth away from yours. He can feel you soaking his jeans, your wetness joining the abundant amount of rips and tears in the material.

Your hand moves faster, twisting perfectly and occasionally squeezing his most sensitive spots as well. Chris pushes your hands away abruptly, and you’re confused. Did you do something wrong? Does he not like you anymore? What happened? “Shit, wrap your mouth around the tip, little girl. Trust me, you’re gonna fucking love it,” he says, and you quickly do so.

You’ll do anything to please him. His mushroom tip is leaking and a raging red. It’s the same red as the rest of his cock, and you could swear it’s almost purplish. You can tell he’s aching because you’ve been through a similar thing. You drop down to the floor and kneel in front of Chris. Your lips smooth around the tip of his hard cock, and you can taste him as soon as he hits your tongue.

He tastes of musk and manliness, along with a hint of saltiness, and it’s oh so addicting. You keep the tip of his cock in your mouth like it’s one of your favourite lollipops and smile around him. Chris smiles and wraps his hand around himself. He jerks himself off quickly, desperate to come in your mouth. “Fucking shit– god, you’re such a good fucking girl,” Chris rasps as he reaches his climax.,

His balls tighten up and his blue eyes roll back into his skull. White, hot, thick ropes of cum shoot out of his tip and fill your mouth. You’re not sure why, but a moan escapes past your throat, and it only makes Chris’s high much better. Chris places both hands on the sides of your head and holds you there, gently. You swallow all his cum as it fills your mouth and leaks from the corners of your lips.

Chris so desperately wants to push your head farther down his cock, but he knows he shouldn’t. Plus, there’s always going to be more time for things like that. He pulls your head away from his cock and watches as a string of saliva tries to keep the two of you connected. You gently lick your lips, still savouring his taste and he smiles down at you. You can’t lie — you feel giddy. Giddy in a way in which you crave his praise and approval like no other.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that? Thank you for helping me out… I do suppose I should return the favour, right?” he teasingly says, lifting you up into his lap. You shake your head out of nervousness. “No? … Why not, baby?” Chris asks, and you gulp thickly. “Don’t wanna rush it… I- never mind, you wouldn’t understand,” you look down and fiddle with your fingers.

The grooves of your nails are smoothed over by your pointer finger. Some dips and rises make you cringe, and others satisfy you. He looks down at your hands and notices the skin picked on the sides. He knows how painful those can be, and he doesn’t want you to feel any pain at all. “I’ll try to understand, darling, but if you don’t tell me, then I’ll be completely clueless,” he speaks to you lowly. “I like the way your words make me feel…” you shyly admit to him.

“Aw, how do they make you feel, baby?” Chris presses, grasping your two hands together. “All warm and small… makes me feel like I have it all. Hey, that rhymes!” you exclaim, bubbling in the utmost adorable giggles ever. “You’re a natural poet, darling. But tell me more…” he urges, rubbing his coarse thumbs against your soft skin. “I get butterflies, and I feel all shy and safe. Your words make me so comfortable yet so vulnerable…” you describe to him even though words can’t describe what you feel.

“Is that right, baby? You’re so cute… Do you- Do you get all tingly and babyish when I use my words?” Chris hesitatingly asks. His voice is so gentle and soft, a low whisper that is so soothing to your ears and rough edges. You nod meekly and smile to yourself. Your cheeks may hurt from all the laughter he caused earlier today but that doesn’t refrain you from hiding your smile.

Now, Chris is no doctor. He’s no professional, he’s no master. He’s just a broken man, but he knows exactly what you’re talking about. But he won’t explain what it is, because he needs you to learn on your own. Maybe with some guidance from him, but he won’t trick you into thinking something completely off base.

“Let’s get cleaned up, okay? Then we’ll sleep, you need the rest. We both do.”

He’s got your name on his tattoo, wearing the same damn clothes since three days ago. A bottle of gin in his hand, and you’d say he’s just wandering. But he isn’t. He was never. The stick-and-poke tattoo may seem a bit much, but he doesn’t regret it one bit. Your name is written in your pretty handwriting. The ink is in his skin, and he’s practically marked as yours, now.

The days go by slower, much slower than he’d like them to. But it doesn’t matter now, because his mission is over, and he’ll be leaving soon. But Chris doesn’t want to leave. His wanderlust has found an end as he finally has a place where he’s meant to be. He’s found heaven in the hills, and between your legs.

“D- Daddy…” you whisper under your breath, loud enough for him to hear. Your hands are locked with his, and they rest at your sides. You’re just in a small bralette, and your hard nipples poke through the fabric. Your legs are thrown over his shoulders and your ankles lace together behind his head. Your neck aches from the angle your body is in, but the pleasure blooming from your core is much more powerful.

Chris is between your legs, and he hums against your wet, throbbing pussy. You moan loudly and squeeze your eyes shut from the feeling. He sucks on your clit harshly, and wetness seeps from your hole. “Feels so good… Oh, my…” you pant. Your hips gyrate and you subconsciously grind your wet cunt against Chris’s face. He pulls his face away from your pussy and licks a broad stripe against you.

You moan again and squeeze his hands tighter. His tongue swirls around your swollen and throbbing clit, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Your taste is addictive, and he could stay between your legs for hours on end, if not for eternities. His beautiful, lovely rings dig into the sides of your fingers, but you don’t care. Chris may treat you like a delicate doll, but he should know how much you love it when he’s rough with you.

“I think I’m gonna come, Daddy…” you cry out to him before a strangled moan leaves your mouth. Chris pulls away from your pussy once again, but this time he spits on your lips. His saliva drops down your cunt and mixes with your wetness, and he goes back to devouring you. He eats you out like a starved man, and you’re squealing at the overwhelming pleasure.

If he was on death row, he’d have your sweet pussy as his last meal.

His tongue works over your clit and brings you closer and closer to your release. It’s coming fast. A searing, heated feeling takes over your body and abdomen as your back arches off your couch. Chris is as hard as a rock, staring you directly in the eyes, and he makes you come on his mouth.

“Oh- Daddy!” you cry out loudly, your mouth falling open into a silent, voiceless scream. Your eyes roll back into your skull and in Chris’s past words, you look like a brain-dead slut. Your wetness gushes out of your drooling hole, and he laps it all up with no problem. He drinks up everything you give him, and then some. Your hands are still laced with his and your chest rises and falls at a fast pace.

“Shh… You did amazing, little one. Taste so fucking sweet, just like nectar,” he hums like a hummingbird, before smacking his lips. You slowly come down from your high as he strokes your hands with his thumbs. Your lids are slightly heavy, but you don’t want to get any shut-eye. Time away from Chris is practically a sin in your eyes. “Thank you, Daddy,” you gratefully reply.

“You’re welcome, little one. Got me so hard,” he husks as he moves to get up. He carefully handles your body and pulls out a handkerchief from the pocket of his jeans. They’ve been washed and scrubbed but there are still faint dandelion and pollen stains that he just doesn’t care enough about. Though the adorable face you were making whilst washing them is something that’ll never leave his mind.

Just like the mental image of you coming undone beneath him.

“Can I make you feel good, Daddy? Pretty please?” you ask sweetly and Chris knows he could say yes, but he doesn’t want to. Making you feel good pleases him, but he doesn’t want to sound so poetic so he chuckles. “Soon, little one, I need to clean you up properly,” he tells you and you jut your bottom lip out, pouting. He coos at you and you scrunch your nose up at the attention.

“But I’m all clean, Daddy!” you reason, reaching over to palm his hard cock through his jeans. Chris chokes on his saliva at the feeling of your touch. “In a bit, little one, you need to listen to Daddy. Okay?” he rasps with a warning in his voice. “Okay, Dada…” you trail off with a deep sigh punctuating your sentence. You fiddle with your fingers as Chris carefully cleans up your pussy.

The damp washcloth is gentle against your sensitive skin. Each movement of his is carried by gentleness and love. “I have a question, Daddy,” you hum after a few seconds of silence. “Go ahead, mushy one,” he says with a smile. You giggle at the nickname before calming yourself down. “Were you really wandering?” you bluntly ask him. Chris’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets, and you gasp.

“What do you mean, little one?” he asks, looking up at you. “Well… You said you were a wanderer! And that’s how you found me! But you don’t seem like a wanderer, you’re too clever to be one,” you explain with a smile on your face. Chris begins to chew on the inside of his cheek, and the skin has already been filled with bite marks and scars. At this point, he should tell you, right? You already know the deepest, most darkest pieces and part of him.

You’ll love him no matter what.

“Well, I wasn’t wandering. You’re so smart, little one. The smartest baby in the world!” he cheers and moves to get up. He sits in the empty spot next to you and lifts you into his lap. You’re still naked and Chris has his shirt off (as usual), so the skin-on-skin contact has you feeling even sleepier. “Sometimes, we lie to protect people. I lied, to protect you, along with many other people. Myself included, of course,” he starts.

“I was sent here with the sole purpose of bringing in your criminal neighbour,” he pauses “and I did.” You nod along with his words, your mind only allowing the most important phrases to sink in. “I arrested him around a month ago, and I was supposed to leave three weeks ago,” he sadly sighs. You look up in a panic, and you’re in shock. “Two weeks ago, I turned in my resignation. I’m not going anywhere,” he quickly adds and your face lights up.

“I’m staying with my best girl, okay?” Chris smiles and leans in to kiss you. You let him do so because God-damn, you’d let him do anything he wants to you. “T- Thank you so much, Daddy!” you squeal and hug him tightly. He laughs in a beautiful cacophony of sounds, and it’s right in your ear.

Chris feels a weight being lifted off his shoulders as you writhe around in his arms. You wiggle around on his hard cock and Chris suppresses a groan. His hands trail from your shoulders to your waist, down to your hips. Goosebumps erupt on your skin and excitement runs in your veins at his touch. Your head rolls back and you exhale shakily. He grips your hips tightly, and you involuntarily buck your hips against his crotch.

Both you and Chris moan before he moves both his hands to your ass. He gropes you roughly, feeling a bit of your wetness on his fingers. “Oh, baby… What’s all that for? Hm? Didn’t Daddy just eat your sweet little pussy out?” he asks in a slightly worried tone. “Y- Yeah… But I can’t help it, Daddy, you always make me so tingly…” you admit to him, shyly.

“Mmm, I like knowing I do this to you. Gets me so fucking hard,” he groans, slapping your ass. You yelp in surprise, but it gets cut off by a whimper. Chris caresses the hit skin and soothes you down from the shock. He smiles at you and then lands another hit. Then another, and then another.

The sting is addictive, just like he is. It leaves you writhing in both pain and pleasure and yet you still want more. “M- more, please,” you quietly beg and Chris coos at you as if you're a pet. And the truth isn’t far off. The coolness of his rings is both brutal and comforting. It soothes you yet acts as if they didn’t just hurt you. “You want more, baby?” he asks in that sweet yet sultry condescending tone of his.

You nod your head and chew on your bottom lip. “‘S too bad you’re gonna have to take what I give you and keep quiet, baby,” he husks, and you whine loudly. Chris flips your bodies around and suddenly you’re on your back, and he’s leaning over you. He locks lips with you and you try your hardest to keep up with the kiss.

His lips move sloppily against yours, but you don’t mind because you’ll take anything he gives you. You moan into true kiss and Chris wedges his knee between your legs. You’d hump him like a bunny because that’s what the demon on your shoulder is telling you to do. But the last time you did something without his permission, you weren’t allowed to make him come for a week.

You just know you’re soaking his jeans but neither of you cares. Chris kisses the corner of your mouth and trails down to your neck, peppering kisses behind as if he’s leaving a trail on your body for when he’s going to explore you later. The stubble on his cheeks and jaw tickles you and Chris falls even more in love with you as your laughter fills the air.

“D- Dada…” you whisper to him as you tilt your head back. His lips land on that sweet spot of yours and your back arches off the couch. Chris smiles against your skin and begins to suck on that sweet spot. Your breath hitches as he bites, licks and sucks on your skin. He marks you up like no other, and you know how much he loves to know that you’re all his.

“Dada… No teasing, please,” you sweetly ask in your soft tone. And how can he turn you down? “In a bit, little girl, be patient for Daddy.” Chris continues to mark you up until he’s satisfied. The feeling of his teeth against your neck and collar bones makes you even wetter than you already are. Possessiveness is carried in his movements, and it only drives you to be needier.

Chris moves further down from your collar bones to the valley of your breasts. Each curve of yours makes him want to sin without any repentance afterwards. He places a kiss there and then looks up at you. “Please, Daddy,” you whisper so quietly it takes him a few seconds to realize what you’ve said. Chris’s hand wraps around your body to your back.

He slowly unclasps your bralette and drags it away from your body at the same pace. You both maintain eye contact all whilst he undresses you to your vulnerability. Chris throws your bra somewhere behind him and places his hands on your body. “Aw, baby… You’re so cute and small,” he sweetly says in an almost shocking manner. Almost as if he doesn't use the size difference as a weapon to make you all soft and mushy.

“Hm, thank you, Daddy,” you tell him because good girls always have manners. “So good, using your manners for Daddy,” he praises, and you wonder if he can read your mind. Your Daddy can do anything, so it would be no surprise if he can. Chris sits upon his knees, but he remains in his towering position. Gently, and with care, he spreads your legs open until he’s satisfied.

He watches as you clench your needy pussy. He just knows your clit is throbbing, and you’re tingly because he just has that effect on you. “Poor baby… Is this all for Daddy?” he asks, and you quickly nod. “Say it, tell me it’s all because of me,” he growls placing his hands on your thighs. Chris slowly moves his hands further down your thighs. His touch is gentle, and he can feel the goosebumps on your thighs beginning to raise.

“‘S all yours, daddy. It’s all because of you,” you tell him breathlessly. “And this pussy is all mine, isn’t it, little girl?” he asks, inching closer to your wet pussy. “Mhm, only yours, Daddy!” you happily assure him, and he smirks at you. “That’s right, little girl. And since it’s all mine, doesn’t that mean I can do whatever I want with it?” he questions, and you nod with no hesitance at all.

Chris traces your wet pussy with his ring-donned pointer finger. “Oh my…” you gasp at the feeling. It may not be much, but your sensitive little pussy struggles to handle it. You clench around nothing again, and he watches, before chuckling at you. “Such a pretty pussy you have, baby, I can’t fucking wait to ruin it,” Chris growls, and you whimper. “Gonna fill you up with my cum after I fuck you, little girl,” he promises, and you never wanted to be fucked so badly until now.

He wonders if his cock could even fit inside you. Usually, he’d want to eat you out and finger you to prepare you. But he’s now thinking with what’s between his legs, and not what’s between his ears. He trails that same pointer finger on your pussy, and becomes mesmerized with the sight. Chris watches as your hole drools with want and need, whilst you watch him.

His already dark eyes are blown out with lust, and it only turns you on even more. Chris knows you’re watching him. He’s not one of the best agents in the FBI for no reason. He looks up at you, and you lock eyes with each other. He smirks and pulls his hand away from your pussy. You hold back a whine, but you still pout in disappointment. Chris begins to unbuckle his pants, and you’re filled with eagerness.

You smile widely, and he coos. “Aw, you’re such a desperate little slut, it’s adorable,” he chuckles, and you shy away. He pulls down his jeans along with his boxers slowly. Chris takes off his jeans and boxers completely, and throws them somewhere around the house. You watch as his cock bounces up and leaks with pre-cum. You just know he’s aching because of how red his cock is.

He’s big, and you already know that. But seeing him in all his naked glory is just something else. The simple yet not so simple idea of Chris’s cock being inside of you is electrifying. It’s both terrifying and exciting. He grabs the base of his cock and the prickly hair pokes the soft skin of his hands, but he doesn’t care. His left hand goes back to your pussy, and begins to rub circles on your clit.

“Oh… Daddy,” you moan quietly. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, so you involuntarily try to shut your legs and keep Chris out. Your knees touch for a brief moment, and he’s having none of that. He separates your legs and climbs on top of you, all while staring you directly in the eyes. His cock drags against your inner thigh. “Oh, is it too much for you, little one?” he asks with faux pity in his tone. You nod and clench your fists to control yourself.

“Too fucking bad, you’re gonna take whatever I give you, and you’re not gonna complain. Isn’t that right, little girl?” he sneers, and you gasp. Usually, you can’t handle someone who raises their voice in the slightest. But hearing Chris do it makes the butterflies in your stomach fly. “Yes, Daddy,” you hum delightfully, and he smiles. “Good girl,” he praises. Chris presses harder on your sensitive pearl of nerves and rubs you in faster circles.

“Daddy…” You moan and it goes straight to his cock. He looks up at you and just knows you’re beginning to drive up that cliff. He slows down his ministrations on your nub, and you bite back a loud whine. “You’re so needy, baby… Already so close to coming, it’s kind of pathetic…” he trails off and more wetness leaks out of you. You’re absolutely soaked and are a little bit ashamed of it.

“Please, Daddy! I’m so close, I’ll do anything,” you beg, but he just doesn’t buy it. “You’ll already do anything I tell you, baby, begging is so useless,” Chris chortles. You let out a small huff and move your hips in a circle, grinding against his thumb. In a flash of blurry moments, Chris pulls his hand away from your pussy and wraps around your neck. He squeezes the sides of your throat, and you gasp quite loudly.

He raises his eyebrow in warning, and you nod in understanding. “Good girl, I don’t want to put you over my knee when I’m feeling so gracious,” he assures, and you smile. Chris brings the tip of his cock to your swollen, needy clit and his pre-cum begins to mix with your wetness. You both moan softly as he rubs his tip on your clit. Your bottom lip finds a home between your teeth and Chris’s tongue swipes over his.

The sight and feeling of his cock on your silky pussy make him so weak in the knees. “Fuck, baby, do you like that? You like it when Daddy makes you feel good with his cock?” Chris asks in a deep, gravelly voice. “Yeah, Daddy… love it so much…” you tell him through a mushy haze of pleasure.

“You’re getting all dumb and stupid already? You’re so cute, little one,” he purrs, and you giggle at his words even though there’s nothing funny about them. “Do you want my cock, little baby? Say it, tell Daddy you want his cock,” he urges, and you look down to where you’re both nearly connected.

“I wan’ your cock, Daddy. Want it so bad, I need it, Daddy,” you beg, and Chris hums. “Just a little more, little girl, it’s like music to my ears,” he smirks, and you bite your bottom lip. “Sing for me, hummingbird,” he pushes, and you just go with whatever your neediness tells you to do.

“I wanna feel your cock deep inside me, Daddy. I want your cum to fill me up until I’m leaking and all stupid. Please, Daddy, please fuck me. I really want your cock, I need it,” you beg and blood rushes to his face and cock. “Fuck, yeah, I’ll give you my fucking cock, and you better take it like the good girl you are,” he growls, and you whimper. Chris slowly drags the fat tip of his shaft down to your drooling, slutty hole.

You whimper loudly, and he looks back at you. Fear is written all over that pretty face of yours, and Chris knows the exact reason why. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be gentle, okay? If you want to stop just say so, and I’ll listen. I won’t hurt you, darling. I promise,” he gently reassures you. You sigh with an almost heavy yet full heart.

You then nod and Chris thanks you for allowing him to fully make you his. “Wanna hold your hand, Dada… Please,” you ask pleasantly, and he nods. “In a bit, little girl, I just need to be careful,” he whispers. Chris slowly begins to push into your wet, tight cunt. You swallow him slowly, and the sight is mesmerizing.

The tightness of your cunt squeezes him in a strong hug, and he wishes he could be buried deep inside you for the rest of his life. “Fuck- Baby, you feeling so fucking good,” he moans while trying to compose himself. You’re still whimpering from the pain, and your chest is rising and falling at a fast pace.

“C- Can I push all the way in, little one? It’ll only hurt for a bit,” he asks, and he looks deep into your eyes. “Mhm… Wanna feel your cock deep inside me, Daddy, please,” you beg, and Chris tries his hardest not to come right here, right now. He thrusts his hips forward, and bottoms out inside you completely.

Your mouth falls open, and you’re silently screaming. The pain isn’t too much, but you feel as though the wind is being knocked out of you. Chris shifts a bit, and that’s when you start to feel it more. He’s so deep inside you, and he’s splitting you in two. “Breathe, baby, breathe,” he says.

You realize you’re holding your breath and it’s no wonder why your heart was beating out of your chest. “You’re doing so- so well, darling. Your little cunny looks so nice when it’s stuffed full with my cock,” he groans, and you whimper. “Dada, is hurtin’...” you whisper, and Chris wants to pull out because he can’t stand the thought of his little girl being hurt.

“Do you want me to stop, little one?” he asks, but you quickly shake your head in objection. Even though the pressure in your core is dwindling, and even though you feel a little too full, you don’t want him to stop. “No stopping, Daddy, please,” you whine and flail your arms towards him. He shushes you soothingly, and you calm down as soon as he flashes a stern look.

The pain soon burns away into nothing but dust and ash, and you finally see why he was so desperate to shove his cock inside of your cunt. It turns into pleasure and your pussy leaks around him. You’re soaking Chris’s cock with no shame at all. “Oh, fuck, baby… You feel so fucking good,” he moans, and you follow with a gasp. “I like the way y- you feel inside me, Daddy, makes me all tingly…” you admit shyly, and Chris chuckles.

“Yeah? Bet it makes you want to be fucked stupid, right, baby?” he questions with a playful smirk on his face. “Yes, Daddy,” you moan. You’re never aware of your surroundings because you’re too caught up in the moments. It’s something Chris scolds you for, but you never learn. But in this moment, you can feel everything. The veins on his cock throb against your silky walls, and you can feel his balls against your ass. His hot breath fans over you as Chris struggles to compose himself.

He slowly drags his hips backwards, pulling out of your pussy until his tip is the only thing in your cunt. The sudden almost-emptiness is surprising, but you quickly get used to it. Chris then pushes back into your pussy, and you moan loudly. “Fucking hell, little one,” he curses under his breath as he bottoms out again. He begins to fuck into you slowly and gently, careful to not hurt you. Even if he wants to fuck you until you’re crying.

The sound of skin on skin is quiet and almost unintelligible. The squelching sounds from your wet pussy and moans fill the room. Chris gently grips your hips and watches as your face contorts into a frown of pleasure and not pain. “Daddy…” you pant softly as you look up at Chris. “Yeah, baby? Am I hurting you?” he asks out of worry. “N-No, it feels so good…” you trail off as one particular thrust lands near your g-spot. And he knows that.

“Wan’ you to fuck me hard, wan’ you to destroy me, Daddy. Please fuck me like the slut I am…” you gently beg and Chris halts his thrusts. His cock twitches inside of you because of your words. Only he can corrupt an innocent angel such as yourself. “Shit- Little one, I don’t want to hurt you, that’s why I’m being so gentle,” Chris explains, but you shake your head. “You could never hurt me, Daddy. Please, I need you,” you beg for one last time, unaware of what you’ve done to him.

Chris roughly pushes his cock back into your cunt without warning. “Awe, I see. My little princess wants to be fucked like the whore she is, hm? Well, whatever princess wants, she gets,” he growls because beginning to fuck you roughly. You moan loudly at the feeling as with each thrust, his cock pummels against your sweet spot roughly. His pelvic bone rubs against your swollen clit and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Daddy!” you cry out as Chris pounds into your poor pussy. The room fills with moans, groans, curse words and wet sounds that all come from the art you two are making. “Aw, what’s wrong, little girl? Can’t take daddy’s cock anymore? Hm? Well, I don’t really give a fuck, you’re just gonna lie there, and take what I give you like a good fucking girl,” he sneers, and you push at his chest.

“It’s so sensitive!” you wail like a little bitch in heat. “But I bet you don’t want me to stop, do you?” Chris asks as a moan bleeds past his plump lips. “Uh-uh, please don’t stop, Daddy!” you squeal after a harsh thrust. The stretch of Chris’s cock is amazing, and you never want the feeling to stop. Chris’s hand leaves your hip and crawls all the way up to your neck. He wraps his fingers around your throat, and squeezes the sides, making you clench tightly around his big, thick cock.

He lowers his face to yours and watches as you react to the way he’s being rough with you. “Oh, God!” you cry out as he makes his thrusts more powerful. “Actually, it’s just ‘Daddy’, but I’m fine with that too,” he slyly smirks. You’re too fucked out to even laugh at his joke. Your eyes roll back into your skull and your back begins to arch off of the couch.  “Awe, are you gonna come around my big fat cock already, slut? How cute,” Chris mocks.

You nod your head and begin babbling like a baby. “But remember, little girl, I have to give you permission to come, okay?” he reminds you, and you whine. Chris’s hand around your throat moves up to grab your jaw, and he stops thrusting into you. “None of that is allowed. Don’t forget your place, little girl,” Chris warns with fury seething through his words. You mumble an apology, trying to formulate the proper words to speak.

“Seems like I really did fuck you stupid,” he chuckles, and you moan at his words. You clamp down on his cock, tempting him to do what you want, like a siren using her voice to lure men into the sea. “Open your mouth up first, little girl,” he orders, and you obediently listen. The searing arousal in your core begins to fade away, and you feel a panic beginning to rise inside you.

Chris drags his hand back down to your throat and rests it there. You watch as he puckers his lips up, and suddenly, he spits into your mouth. You open your mouth even wider and stretch your tongue out. His saliva lands directly on your tongue, and you wait for further instructions before you give in to your desires.

“Swallow it, little girl,” he instructs, and you do exactly so. You open your mouth back up just to earn some praise. “Good fucking girl. The best baby ever,�� he smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, Daddy! … Can I have cummies now?” you lovingly ask your Daddy.

“Of course, little one,” he says as he smiles down at you. Chris begins to fuck into you again, deep and hard. With each thrust, he pounds your g-spot and his balls slap against your ass. His remaining hand on your hip moves down to your clit, rubbing your little button with rough circles.

“Daddy… ‘m gonna come!” you moan loudly and Chris fucks you harder. “Come one, baby, come all over my big cock like the good girl you are,” he urges. The building feeling inside you increases, and you feel yourself getting closer to your release. “Fucking come, little girl, wanna hear you sing for me,” he growls. And with one specific thrust, you find yourself coming undone beneath him.

The sight is so fucking beautiful. Watching you as your eyes turn up, your mouth falls open and your cunt hugging his cock just gets him going, and he wishes he could take a picture of you right now. “D- Daddy! Oh, my-” You cut yourself off with a loud moan and Chris keeps on rubbing your clit and fucking you through your orgasm.

You soak his cock until it’s dripping and even then you’re still coming. You moan loudly and Chris can feel himself getting closer to his orgasm. His balls begin to tighten up and a droplet of sweat drips from his neck down to his chest. “Daddy, are you gonna come?” you sweetly ask as he fucks you through your orgasm whilst chasing his own.

“Yeah, baby, Daddy’s gonna fill you up with his cum. I’m gonna leave you leaking with my seed,” Chris growls as he fucks you faster. “Please, Daddy… Please, I want your cum so badly! Please fill me up with your cum, Daddy,” you beg and Chris tosses his head back.

“Fuck, yes, yes yes,” he shouts as his balls tighten up again. He quickens his pace until white, hot, thick ropes of cum spurts out from his aching tip. He fulfills his promise and your wish, filling you up with his cum until there’s nothing left. His cum mixes with your juices as he paints your walls with no expertise whatsoever. Chris slumps on top of your body, engulfing you in a bear hug as his cock remains buried inside of you.

You’re both panting and struggling to come down from the euphoric feelings. You look up at Chris make lock eyes with him for the nth time. There’ll never be a day where you don’t get lost in his eyes. They’re beautiful, absolutely beautiful. “You did so fucking good, little one,” he praises, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“Thank you very, very much, Daddy,” you slur, feeling yourself beginning to sleep into little space. “Daddy?” you call out, tapping his bicep after a few seconds. “Yeah, baby?” he asks, lifting himself up to get a better view of your face. “Will you really stay?” you ask with a bit of worry in your voice. He sighs with a full heart.

“Always.”

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Teacher's Pet

Aizawa's got eyes for his new teacher's assistant. Reader was is a former student of his.

tw: smut, noncon, drugging, yandere-ish, penetration

AN: My computer deleted the original version of this fic so I anger-rewrote it. Not edited.

You were always Aizawa's favorite. Never rude or lazy. And you always trusted his decisions. That's why - after a few years - when you decided to try your hand at teaching he volunteered to train you has his Teacher's Assistant. You looked the same, just a little more mature. You still looked at the man with the same doe eyed expression, waiting for his next direction. You were no longer his student and he didn't need to keep his mind from wandering.

Aizawa invited you over under the guise of grading papers. In attempt to make the task less boring, he poured two glasses of wine.

"Aizawa-sensei, how late is it?" You yawned.

Your mentor glanced at his phone, "You know you can call me Shota. It's only going to be 9, if you're tired we can finish this another day."

Nodding you attempted to stand, but plopped back down because the room began to spin. Maybe it was the alcohol mixing with your exhaustion but your body felt heavy and sluggish.

"I didn't realize you weren't much of a drinker," Aizawa laughed, extending his arm toward you. "Here, let me help you up."

You managed a few steps before taking a break to collect your bearings. On second thought, it couldn't be the wine, you only had a single glass. Then the room began to shift. Aizawa had picked you up. He was talking to you, something about being worried for your safety. You weren't fully listening, it was a pain just trying to concentrate.

When did you get on a bed?

You felt the mattress shift as Aizawa sat beside you. "I think you should just sleep it off here, I know you're pretty tough but right now you look like a confused little kitten."

Taking a deep breath you tried sitting up, "No, I shouldn't-"

The older man was on top of you. Tendrils of his hair reached down to graze your face. He smells so good, you couldn't put your finger on it but he smelled like comfort.

You snapped out of your trance when you felt a tug at your waist. Aizawa, your mentor, was pulled off your pants. When had he removed your shirt?

"Sensei, stop-"

Aizawa smashed his lips against yours. He had one had tangled in your hair to keep you from squirming away from his attack. "Are you gonna be a good girl and open your mouth for me?"

Heat was coursing throughout your body. You were embarrassed, upset, scared, but also curious. Of course your body was feeling good, but this wasn't what you wanted. You shook your head before he caught your lips again. You kept them firmly pressed together, denying his tongue entrance. But then dug his nails into your soft hips so hard that you had to cry out in pain. After exploring with his tongue he pulled away from you.

"See, that's not so hard."

To make everything worse, he had skillfully removed your bra while you were distracted.

He licked his lip as you took in your body, the only thing left was your underwear. Kneeling on the bed, between your spread legs, he place a hand under either knee. With a quick pull he dragged you toward him. Your ass was elevated, resting on the top of his thighs; gravity making your breasts perkier than they already were. If he had drugged you it must've fully kicked in because no matter how hard you will your arms, they wouldn't move.

His knuckles grazed between your thighs making tears escape your eyes.

"Oh kitty, you've soaked through your panties," he pressed a little harder against the material. "You always caught the eyes of so many of the boys. I wondered if you knew. If you acted naive around them as a way to tease. How many of them succeeded?"

You didn't respond.

Hooking a finger under you panties he moved them to the side, exposing your glistening pussy. Whimpering you begged him once more to stop. Maybe if you told him you were too tired he'd leave you alone.

"I know honey, once we're done it'll be bedtime. If you avoid my questions we're gonna have to stay up later. Tell me how many boys you let crawl between your legs. What'd they do that made you feel good?"

All the while his hand never stopped rubbing against you.

Your words came out choppy, between tearful gasps, "Please, Aizawa sensei, I don't want to. I promise, I never-"

A shiver racked your body when he began rubbing circles around your clit. You jerked away from him. You think you were strong enough to pull away but maybe he just wanted an excuse to reposition you. He leaned forward, giving your body a break and smiled against your neck, "Is my kitty a virgin?"

Humiliated you nodded your head. You never really stopped to think about your lack of a sex life, none of your peers ever caught you attention in that way. You just wanted to become a pro and prove yourself to your role model, the man on top of you.

"How perfect are you," he cooed. He moved to sucking an nipping at your breasts, leaving a trail of marks from your neck like a map. "How about we go slowly. I know they taught sex ed but real life is always different from a text book. Let me know if you have any questions, you know I'm a good teacher."

A calloused finger slid inside you. You focused on your breathing, everything was okay. It was uncomfortable but not unbearable. He moved his finger slowly, taking in how tight your felt. He didn't want your first time to be unnecessarily painful. You were mortified when he removed his finger from you and brought it to his lips. He groaned as his licked two fingers.

"You're doing so good, baby. Can you take a big breath for me?" Two fingers slid inside you, there wasn't much resistance but you felt the pressure change. You couldn't help with whine. "That's my good girl. We're gonna do three now, okay?"

Fuck. Three was too much. You felt like you couldn't take any more. Then, with his fingers still inside of you be began playing with your clit again. Your body tensed as electricity coursed from your core. The moan that poured from your lips was involuntary. More juices pooled beneath you. You kept shaking while Aizawa withdrew from you.

"Such a messy girl," he kissed you. "That's exactly what we want."

Becoming acutely aware that his erect cock was resting below your belly you looked for the first time. You weren't sure what to expect when it came to the size of any dick but certainly not what was before you.

"Wait, can we stop," you found your voice. "It's too big, I don't think I can do it."

"Trust me, it'll fit. It may be a little painful at the beginning because it's your first time but then it'll feel good. Just like how I made you feel good with my hands."

The anticipation was killing him. Aizawa was trying to keep your attention by praising you while he teased around your soaking entrance with the head of his cock.

You hissed, pushing weakly against Aizawa's chest, as he entered you. He moved slowly, frustratingly slow. He wanted nothing more that to push in to you, to make you hurt in the best way. Your walls felt so tight and warm against him that if he was a less experienced man would've already finished him.

Finally at his base you earned more praise, "Fuck, kitten, you're taking me so well. Already making me feel so good and it's only your first time. I'm gonna try to go slow but - fuck - tell me if it starts getting to rough."

After a few moments you began to acclimate and the pain eased up. But every time his hips fully met against you you were reminded his girth. You involuntarily jerked against him as that feeling of electricity began to manifest in your core. He was beginning to pick up the pace and couldn't keep from arching against him. Sparks shot through your body as he bit into your shoulder. Your walls spasmed around him. You could hear him praising you as almost completely pulled out just to thrust back into you. Repeating the motion and filling the near silence with the sound of your wetness.

Maybe something in your broke or maybe it was a defense mechanism but your started to rationalize the situation. You body did feel physically good. And lord know's you always had a thing for the hero. This would be perfect if he had gone about things the right way. You wanted some sense of control so you did the only thing you could think of.

"Sh-Shota," You moaned into his ear. Your nails digging in to his back.

"Fuck, say it again," he growled. No longer able to control his pace he moved harder and faster. Tomorrow there would be plenty of proof on your body that Aizawa had been there. "Be my good girl and say it again."

You weren't going to, but you were speaking before you realized, "Shota, I can't-"

If he kept going like this you knew hit your third orgasm of the night. You didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

"You're going to. Show me that you can be a good little whore and listen to teacher."

As if on cue you were seeing stars. Aizawa moaned into you neck and buried his cock deep inside of you. There was a new sensation and your realized that he wasn't wearing protection. His hot cum was filling you to the brim. "Wait, I'm not on the pill"

After a few more pumps he froze inside of you, "That's so fucking hot."

He pulled out and a mixture of both your fluids followed. He rolled to the side of you and brought you close to his chest.

"I'm so proud of you, you were such a good girl."

You interrupted, maybe he hadn't heard you, "I'm, I'm not on the pill."

"That's okay, I wouldn't want you to be, you're all mine. You need to sleep, we can take a bath in the morning."

You were tired, even though it felt like your mind was beginning to clear. Like a cornered animal you felt trapped. Aizawa kept whispering as you closed your eyes. He mentioned something about next time feeling better for you. That he was going to take such good care of you. How he didn't share.

[jschllatt]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 | 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Prompt: (Based off of the song I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys) Clay’s recent fame leads to a difficult decision to be made. Months later, he’s still regretful. You seem to be fine, so why can’t he move on, too? 

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, slight angst

Pairing: Dream x GN!Reader

Words: 2.5k

Masterlist

I spent a week on this and idk how I feel about it but I hope you enjoy <3

Clay had been consumed by an overwhelming emptiness, his entire body hollow as the lack of your presence took its toll. 

Two months. Two devastating months had passed since he’d made a grave mistake, and now he was facing the agonous repercussions. He was a mess—anyone could see it. Between his long, disheveled hair, the light scruff that covered his face, and his bloodshot eyes, it was clear that Clay’s mind had been somewhere else. And it had been. Every passing second was a constant reminder of his solitude, causing the emptiness in his heart to evolve into a deep, incessant void, no longer inhabited by the happiness you had ingrained in him just months before. Why? Clay was overcome with a sense of deep regret as a result of your absence, feeling more alone than he ever had before. What could have possibly happened to make him feel this way? To make you leave? The answer was rather simple—he was just too damn busy. 

Clay had dedicated a considerable amount of time to his career, filming or streaming during the little free time he had. As he grew more popular, the time that you had spent in each other’s presence dwindled significantly, each day becoming lonelier than the last. Your interactions with him had shortened drastically—what were once long, lingering kisses placed on your forehead had devolved into chaste pecks, void of any true care or meaning. While you understood entirely that Clay’s career was important, you found yourself slowly losing hope.

You realized it one day as he was filming. 

It was a day no different from the last. Clay was recording a Manhunt video in his office, his voice shrill as he begged his friends for mercy. He was always loud when he filmed, and though you had chastised him for it countless times, he never listened. A loud sigh escaped your lips, going unheard, and you shifted your position on the couch, uncomfortable. Everyday seemed to be the same—each as lonely and frustrating as the last. Clay’s ignorance only fueled your apathy towards your relationship more, and you couldn’t help but find yourself growing hopeless at the thought of Clay being unaware of your unhappiness. Your troubled thoughts continued until a week had passed—a long, grueling week in which you had hopelessly tried to burrow your apathetic thoughts. But you couldn’t. You were giving up. The realization of your unhappiness made a pit grow in your stomach. You knew that you cared about Clay, but you couldn’t keep living the way you were—tired, unacknowledged, pitiful. 

And so, you let him go.

Clay was editing by the time you gathered the courage to face him, your stomach nauseous as you approached his office door. A light knock signaled your presence, and Clay muttered a quiet ‘come in,’ his voice raspy after hours of unuse. Blowing out a breath, you entered the room, your expression sullen upon noticing Clay’s inattentiveness. His eyes were still glued to his monitor, deeply focused on editing rather than your presence. You waited for a few seconds, silently hoping he would pay you any mind, but he didn’t. A wave of disappointment washed over you, though you managed to keep your voice steady as you declared, “We should break up.” Clay tensed in his seat, suddenly fixated on your words rather than the hours worth of footage he was editing. His chair turned with a quiet squeak as he swiveled around to face you. “What?” You sensed the subtle indignation of his tone as he squinted confusedly at your abrupt words. “We should break up.” You were much quieter this time, unable to meet his eyes as your words died silently in the tense air. You wrung your hands together anxiously as you leaned back on your heels, feeling awkward under Clay’s intense gaze. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and dealt with it. Maybe—

“Okay.” 

Immediately, your eyes flickered up to meet his, filled with a silent desperation as you searched his emerald irises for any indication of his intentions. Nothing. 

“Okay?”

Clay remained silent for a moment, his body stiff as he leaned back in his noisy chair. His expression was inscrutable as he stared at you blankly, trying to find the right words to say as he watched your face remain solemn at his confound brevity. His voice was level as he spoke, “I know I’ve been busy lately. We haven’t spent a lot of time together and that’s my fault. I could sit here and promise to change, but we both know I can’t—not right now.” Though you felt your heart shatter, you knew he was right. His job was too important, too time consuming.

A nod signaled your understanding and you turned to leave, feeling overwhelmingly dejected. 

“Hey.” You turned around to meet Clay’s eyes, noticing the hurt that was settled in them. “I hope you know I care about you.” You fought the urge to cry and shot him a watery smile, struggling to keep your tone unwavering as you agreed, “Me too.”

Two months had passed. 

Clay had been struggling. Everyone knew it—his friends, family, even his fans. It was clear that the once cheerful, happy man had become melancholy, suddenly depressed and unable to hide his unhappiness on camera. There had been numerous speculations of why this was, but only few knew the truth. Sapnap was among one of them and had been staying at Clay’s for the past month, creating content with his best friend while simultaneously making sure he was okay. Though two months had passed, Clay was still a mess. Perhaps it was because it hadn’t hit him that day. He had momentarily convinced himself that his career was more important than you, but deep down he knew that wasn’t true. He wanted so desperately to reach out to you, but assumed you had moved on—another incorrect belief of his. Clay cooped himself up in his home, never leaving unless it was urgent. He had sunken into a deep depression and the only remedy for his pain was you. You. He treated you so poorly. Everyday was a constant reminder of your absence and it was his fault. He could’ve made more time for you, or at least spent the free time he had with you. 

Remorseful thoughts ran through his head everyday, nearly driving himself crazy, and Sapnap knew he needed to get Clay out of the house. 

“There’s a party tonight, I think we should go.” Clay immediately denied the offer with a shake of his head, grumbling to himself. His best friend sighed indignantly, blowing out a breath of frustration before stating, “You don’t have a choice, you need to get out of the house.” Sapnap stood his ground, arms crossed as he stared at Clay sternly. A minute had passed and Clay, aware of his best friend’s stubbornness, gave in begrudgingly, “Fine, but only for an hour.” Sapnap grinned triumphantly, exiting the room with a smirk. He slammed the door behind him, heading back to his room while yelling, “And shave, for fuck sake.” Clay shook his head, cracking a small smile at his friend’s words.

The party was overwhelming to say the least. Bodies swarmed the crowded living room, reeking of alcohol and sweat. Music blared from a speaker, a shrill, nearly deafening melody that was sure to give Clay a headache by the end of the night. The room was buzzing with conversation, every word drowning out in the loud atmosphere. Almost immediately, Clay was passed a beer, and he lifted the bottle to his lips to take a swig. If Sapnap was going to make him stay here, he may as well take some edge off while doing so. A few minutes had passed and he finished the bottle, discarding it in a bin nearby. “I’m gonna go get another drink.” Clay muttered to Sapnap, who was talking loudly to a group of people he’d recognized. His best friend patted his back in response, chuckling as he gave him a playful shove towards the kitchen. Stumbling through the drunken crowd, Clay soon broke free as he neared his destination. He grabbed a beer, opening it skillfully off of the edge of a table, and turned around wordlessly. Taking a big sip, he hoped to free his mind from thoughts of you. Though he wasn’t one to drink, especially when upset, Clay knew that, aside from you, alcohol was the only other solution to temporarily mask his pain. He’d already drank half before he warned himself to slow down, knowing that if he got too drunk, he’d probably do something he regretted. Turning around so he could rejoin Sapnap, Clay nearly dropped his drink on the floor, feeling his heart drop. 

His eyes met yours. And then, he heard the music. 

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathin’ in your dust.

Clay felt his breath hitch in his throat, noticing the surprise in your eyes as you stared at him, astonished. As he stood there, staring at you shamelessly, he regretted it—everything. He regretted how he neglected you, ignored you, prioritized all of the wrong things when the only right thing in his life was right in front of him: you. Memories flashed before his eyes, quick and familiar, yet saddening all the same. The way you smiled at him from across the room when he was filming, the way you held him when he was stressed, the way you spoke to him, softly, while he was streaming to check up on him. Everything.

I wanna be your Ford Cortina

I will never rust

You looked away, suddenly nervous, though the eye contact was all-too-familiar. You felt your heart begin to race as you processed every detail of Clay’s face—from his anxious expression to the dark circles beneath his eyes. He looked like a mess. But so did you. You mirrored most of his tired, dejected qualities because you, too, were hurting. 

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

Snapping you out of your daze, you felt a tug on your arm. “Hey, you alright?” Your friend asked worriedly. Nodding briskly, you muttered a quiet ‘yeah’ and smiled in a poor attempt to sound convincing. Seconds passed, and you could still feel the intensity of Clay’s burning gaze as your friend tugged you through the crowd, handing you a drink in the process. You dared to look up, instantly locking eyes with Clay, and swallowed thickly. You knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, not when he was looking at you like that—desperate, longing. 

You call the shots, babe

I just wanna be yours

Lifting up the red solo cup to your lips, you downed its contents quickly, eliciting a few laughs and impressed hollers from your friends. You were never the type to drink, but you felt that it was necessary, especially when you knew Clay was still staring at you intently. Downing another shot, you risked glancing up towards Clay, but he was gone. Suddenly anxious as a result of his absence, you surveyed the room. Nothing. “I’m gonna go get a drink.” You said before you could stop yourself, not giving your friends the chance to answer you before you ventured into the kitchen. You tried to dodge the swaying, drunken bodies as you made your way quickly into the room, frowning upon entry. Clay wasn’t there either. You sighed, frustrated, and grabbed a beer, struggling to open it. You nearly laughed at your incompetence, feeling sadly nostalgic despite the humor you found in your struggles—Clay had always opened your beers, then teased you for being incapable. You fought back an onslaught of tears at the memory and sighed deeply, leaning against the table with your head in your hands. 

Secrets I have held in my heart.

“Hey.” Your body jolted at the sound of his voice. Daring to turn around, you felt your chest constrict at the sight of him clutching your now-opened beer, a sad smile plastered on his tired features. 

Are harder to hide than I thought. 

“Hey.” You breathed. Clay passed the beer to your shaking hand, trying to ignore the way his fingers brushed against yours. Chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously as he tried to find the right words to say, Clay admitted, “I’m sorry.” A few quiet moments passed, though they felt like an eternity, and you replied simply,  “Don’t be.” You tried to hide the tremor that shook your arm as you took another swig of your beer, noticing how Clay’s face fell in sudden disappointment. What? Did you say the wrong thing? You didn’t want Clay to feel guilty, to blame himself for your failed relationship though it was mostly his fault. Why? Because you cared about him. You could immediately sense the despair that washed over him. And, though you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the pure adrenaline from the moment, you hugged him. 

Maybe I just wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

Clay tensed at your touch, wondering if the beer had gotten to him or if this really was happening. It was. He soon wrapped his arms around your waist, grip purposeful as he tugged you into him. Your head rested against his chest, the steady thumping of his heartbeat in your ear far more of a melodic sound compared to any music you’d ever listened to.

Wanna be yours

Clay swayed the two of you softly, resting his chin atop your head. You clung to him tightly, shutting your eyes as he held you, gentle. “I missed you so much.” You admitted before your mind could even process it. Clay chuckled, lowering his head so his lips were close to your ear, “I missed you more, baby.” You tried to fight the grin that plastered itself on your face as you took in his words, squeezing his torso with such force you were sure he’d explode. Clay went to speak again, caressing your sides so gently you could barely feel it, before being interrupted. 

“Holy shit, there you are, dumbass!” 

Sapnap. 

Clay pulled away from you to glare at his best friend, trying to ignore the shit eating grin on Sapnap’s face as he glanced at you. “My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt...whatever the hell I just interrupted. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, but you clearly are.” Before either of you could respond, he left, shooting his friend a thumbs up before disappearing into the crowd. You couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction, noticing the slight rosiness Clay’s cheeks had suddenly sported, embarrassed. “Sorry about that, he…” Clay struggled to find the perfect word to describe his best friend, but trailed off. “Yeah.” You agreed, seemingly understanding what he meant despite his silence. Clay laughed, then. The sound was music to your ears, and when his smile faded, the two of you were serious again. Clay’s hand found refuge in yours as he began to speak, his face solemn as he confessed, “I lied. I can change. I will right now if you want me to—I’d do anything for you.” 

Wanna be yours

You smiled lovingly at the man, interlocking the fingers of his hand that wasn’t already occupied in yours, and pulled him closer to you, wanting him near. 

Wanna be yours

“Deal.”

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

Hello I hope your doing well! I have a headcanon idea how would the brothers and previously undatebles react to a masseuse/masseur (people who give out professional massages)

Let's try this shall we~

Edit: I was informed by someone who is actually familiar with this field that the term Masseuse and Masseur can be seen as insulting in the profession, thank you for informing me again!

.

The Boys and a Massage Professional/Therapist MC

.

Warning: uncensored swearing, a lot of it asfkfkajshfkslajd

.

Lucifer

Tense shoulders that could cut steel, harder than a fucking nokia phone from centuries to eons of stress, if I was a professional at massages I think I would be itching to grab onto those muscles of his like dough.

He will probably feel chills down his spine whenever you are around.

Won't take much convincing if the time is right to ask him to please let you release the pressure on him because dear fucking lord I wouldn't be able to just stand and watch either.

Good fucking luck in the process, when I say this man is stiff this man is STIFF.

He will be feeling so much better by the end of it there's a chance he will be slightly dazed.

Also it improved his mood which led to less harsh punishments, which now has led to more demands from others than from Lucifer himself for you to massage him.

I think you should start asking for payment at this point-

.

Mammon

And talking about payment, you will definetelly need to ask it from this one because after the first time you gave it to him for free out of your own good will he started to come back for it all. the. time.

Okay, he's cute and the sounds he makes are so 👌. But damn boy this is not exactly so easy so please give something back??????

Well, you just need to say the word and he will always have something in ready to give you. A date at a place you have been wanting to go for a good while now or something you have had you eyes on for a good time.

It's a very win win kind of deal.

Though at some point when you massaged his legs he felt so light he ran faster than he could control and almost ran into a wall, actually no, he did ran into a wall there's a crack in there ouch-

.

Leviathan

In which the cause of the second oldest running was probably to scape the demands for his money back from the third oldest, though Levi was definetelly too stunned by the lighting speed to react right away.

He now makes sonic jokes when refering to Mammon.

But going back to massages, this fucking snake has such a bad posture I would be in back pain just from watching him sit.

And don't expect it to be easy to fix that because everytime you touch him he just tenses up further.

I swear it would be easier to just knock him out and acupuncture him.

You will succeed at some point if you don't give up, and BOY he also makes some 👌😩 sounds.

They're a lot more dorkish and high pitched and he will definetelly not be functional by the end of it.

He will start trying to fix his posture from now on to not make your work go to waste.

.

Satan

A curious cat that would just straight up ask for a session (not for free of course he already has something to give you back in ready) after witnessing the shenanigans above.

Not so stiff as Lucifer but still fucking hard, which is to be expected since he has so much rage bottled up.

Chances are he's turning into his demon form unconsciously.

It's a bit of an intimidating session not gonna lie, he is basically using it to relieve himself from part of his wrath so with every groan it feels like he's going to jump at you and rip you to shreds.

He won't of course, instead he will smile brightly by the end of the session and give you your reward for such a good job.

It's honestly worth it though you will probably be needing a massage yourself after-

.

Asmodeus

And that's where pretty boy comes in! He doesn't have a professional tittle on him but he has centuries of experience so that's close right?

He will have all things ready, just say the word and he will give you the best payment for all your hard work ever: a chance to relax yourself.

And man he's good.

It's also not very tiring to massage him either, his smooth skin is addicting to touch, the atmosphere he will help set up will be perfect, and he also spills a lot of tea in between so that's a plus for entertainment.

Seriously whenever it becomes too much to be with the rest of the brothers just hit Asmo up and he's gotchu.

Private spa day comming right up.

.

Beelzebub

He won't ask because it will completelly scape his mind.

He plays a lot of sports and does a lot of exercising so of course he has a lot of sore muscles.

And you can't tell me you wouldn't want to massage his belly, he's a glutton, it's literally asking for you to massage there.

Baby boy is always so gratefull, thanks to your aftercare on his legs, arms and torso, he has never felt lighter!

Which has led him to accidentally break some of the gym weights, win a sports game almost all on his own and make another restaurant suffer because he felt he could eat more than usual.

Although I would like to say you should proceed with the massages with caution, his smile is too precious to ever say no to.

.

Belphegor

Easiest target ever, will probably sleep for 24 hours in one go right after.

And he won't wake up for shit.

Though once he wakes up after those 24 hours he will basically be wide awake for the next 24 hours, so honestly? This has turned out to be very useful in important ocasions.

Will often give out some whines in the middle of a session, possibly half asleep for the entire time.

I feel like he would feel quite ticklish in some places even though you wouldn't be purposelly trying to tickle him, probably.

And I know many of you love his laugh, so yeah that's a plus.

He will definetelly offer to massage you back, and yes he will be good at it, and no it's not because of experience, yes it's because he's too much of a genious and has basically learned through osmosis just from getting massages from you.

.

Solomon

Let me tell ya, he's stiffer than you think.

Bad posture, centuries of responsabilities, strain from excessive use of magic and pacts and the weight of existence when you are both immortal and unable to die.

He could easily rival Lucifer and he won't even realize it.

Will definetelly agree to get a massage and will definetelly say "well I do feel a bit under the weather" and his muscles will definetelly feel a little bit more than just under the weather.

It's easier to chew on hard bread than massage Solomon.

He also offers to pay you back.

Do not agree to get a massage from him, I repeat, DO NOT.

.

Simeon

If you didn't feel like touching that exposed waist of his then you're lying.

If you don't offer first, he will ask you for it at some point.

And man to have a literal angel right under you, letting out a few exhales of satisfaction and bliss with every move of your skilled hands and arms, sometimes a chuckle followed by a comment that could start a small conversation.

Smooth skin, perfectly shaped body, I don't think I would be able to get my hands off him either.

Massage his hands, from his palms to his fingertips, massage his shoulders, from his blades to his neck, thumbs pressing close to his spine.

He will gladly let you indulge yourself for as long as you wish.

.

Diavolo

Another one who's stiffer than you think.

You could literally jump on his back and it would feel like pavement.

Oh and he's now definetelly addicted to massage.

Of course he will also be paying you back with whatever you wish (don't make a joke and say something like 100,000,000 grimm, he will take it seriously-).

Depending on the day he may actually fall asleep, which is very cute.

On another note tho, have you ever thought about sleeping on his back? Because I have-

.

Barbatos

Good luck getting him to take off his clothes, even more good luck to catch him not being busy.

This man will gladly give out massages of his own (which could probably knock out a dragon because damn boy those hands are skilled) but will probably not be as easy to convince to get a massage.

It will take an extremelly tiring day to make him agree and it will be so worth it.

Why you ask? Because the look in his face will alway be so soft by the end of it. Pure gratefullness.

Since then he will start to actually seek you out from time to time, the little smile on his face almost looking excited.

[mlm-writer]

Hero of the Swamp (Shrek x Jaskier)

Edit by me 

Pairing: Shrek x Netflix!Jaskier (Julian Alfred Pankratz/Dandelion) Rating: Explicit Words: 2893 POV: Third Summary: After being left on the mountain, Jaskier finds himself lost in the swamp and in need of warmth and comfort. Note: Y’all can thank @spielzeugkaiser​ and their amazing art for this. Sorry for the sloppy edit, but I really was not going to put even more time into this sinful work.  Tags: I’ve been a bad boy daddy forgive me father fore I have sinned, pre-movies Shrek, post-mountain Jaskier, angst, fluff, Shrek’s huge dong, size kink, cum shower, monster cock, blowjobs, rimming, cum eating and Shrek has emotions ok 

The growls of monsters lurking in the forest rolled over the muddy forest grounds and reached Jaskier’s icy ears. He shivered in both terror and response to the temperature. He told himself he could get off that mountain on his own, but who was he kidding? His frigid ears caught something in the dark. The bard bolted off the path, then later found himself in the middle of nowhere, chilled to the bone, disoriented, and, to be honest, frightened. 

He was looking for a path, but even that seemed to not be present anywhere in the vicinity. Jaskier rubbed his trembling hands together and walked on. Jaskier thought he should at last find some shelter from the wind. Just as he was about to settle for a random tree, he noticed light in the distance, warm like fire, inviting him and promising warmth and shelter. 

The fatigued bard all but ran towards it, the signs around the perimeter unnoticed in the dark. His boots sunk into the mud of the swamp, but he had his eyes set on the house-like structure in the middle of the swamp. He could not believe anyone wanted to live in this stinky place, but right now this someone was about to be his saviour. Once at what he assumed to be the door, he knocked on it. When there was no answer he knocked again. There were some angry, heavy footsteps, before the door opened. 

Before him stood a massive humanoid, skin green like peas, frame built like Geralt who preferred cake over his nasty potions. “Eh, good evening, sir,” Jaskier tried. If it was living in a house, it must be intelligent to some extent… right? “Could you please spare some place for a weary traveller?” The green creature did not look nice, even without its facial expressions. Some tension left its body after the question. Jaskier recognised it as a hint of confusion. “I’m afraid I’ll freeze to death if I don’t warm myself by a fire.” 

“No, get out of my swamp,” the creature spoke. It sounded like it was from Skellige. It was about to retreat into its home, but Jaskier put his foot between the door.

“Please, I’ll die out here,” he spoke dramatically, hoping for pity so he’d have a roof over his head tonight. He was not sure if he should try his luck with this creature, but at least it could speak. Wraiths had said less words, before trying to slice him. 

“Not my problem. Get out of my swamp. The only way you get close to my fire is when I roast you over it.” “Oh please, you don’t mean that.”

Jaskier had barely finished speaking, when the green man grabbed him by his doublet and pulled him close. His breath stank of swamp water and fish. His mouth was wide and Jaskier was pretty sure he would fit inside there. The bard felt like he should be terrified, but underneath a thin layer of leather and cloth, there was warmth radiating off pear skin. He wanted to lean into it, thaw. What inhibited his survival skills further, where those eyes glaring into his. Under bushy eyebrows rested two brown pools of warm broth. He heard the green man roar into his face that he needed to leave, because he was an ogre and he was going to eat him, but it was hard to believe him. 

Within those eyes that were so close to his, the ogre told the story of a creature that wanted to be alone, because alone was safe, alone was comfortable, alone was all he was used to. Jaskier never knew that, but after today, he understood why one would think that. 

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”

It stung, more than anything had caused him to ache in ages. Jaskier could feel the urge to never make friends again, never love again, never lust after one he could not have. However, he refused. It was pain that made life worth living. Without pain, bliss did not feel as good as it did. The rain made sunlight so much more appreciated. The cold made fire so much more precious. The monsters made the witcher so much more valuable.

The human knew this, but the ogre holding him up by his doublet did not. Jaskier had wished for pity, but he pitied the other now. He clumsily threw his arms around the ogre and hugged him tightly. The ogre stopped yelling at him. Jaskier could feel the muscles against his body tensing up. The hand holding him loosened and he threw his legs around the ogre too, holding on and hugging him tightly. “You don’t have to be alone. I don’t fear you,” Jaskier spoke gently. 

“I am an ogre.” “And if you were really malicious I would not still be breathing. Please, just for one night. There are all sorts of dangers out in these swamps, especially at night. I just want to stay alive.” 

Jaskier could hear the ogre letting out a long sigh. “Fine,” he spoke, “but you have to be gone tomorrow.” Jaskier let him go, but not after planting a delighted kiss on the rough skin of the ogre’s cheek. 

“Thank you so much,” the bard exclaimed. He slipped inside, before the ogre could change his mind. The inside of the hollowed out tree looked cozy. It stank like hell, but he was in the middle of the swamp; what did he expect? “Do you like music? I have little to give you, but I am a bard.” Jaskier held up his lute as he grabbed the chair that had no food in front of it. One look at the giant slug on a plate and he was pretty sure he did not want to have any food. Jaskier pulled the chair a little closer to the fire and sat down with his lute in his lap. It seemed rather strange that there were two hand-crafted chairs, while the ogre seemed to be so keen on being alone. “Oh and you can call me Jaskier, by the by. What may I call you, my hero from the swamp?”

The ogre looked at him a little annoyed as he closed the door and sat back down to finish his dinner. “Uh… Shrek. You can play, but don’t sing.” Jaskier let the name roll off his tongue, before playing a calming tune. He didn’t speak, just let his fingers do their thing as he processed all that happened during the day, well it was actually more just those few minutes that haunted his mind. Each one of Geralt’s words cutting into his soul. “Eh… Jaskier?” Jaskier was pulled from his thoughts when Shrek spoke his name. He shook his head, before looking at Shrek. “You don't seem to be… you… you seem sad, well, what I mean is… I never heard such a depressing tune.”

Jaskier faked a smile. “My apologies, good sir. I’ll play you a happier tune, if you wish.” He diverted his eyes to the fingerboard, blinking away the tears he suddenly noticed pooling in his eyes. 

“No, you don’t have to. I prefer silence, anyway.” Jaskier looked up and noticed Shrek had finished eating. He stood up and started cleaning up. “You can sleep on my good chair.” Jaskier followed the ogre’s gaze to the fauteuil in the corner. He nodded. It looked comfortable enough. He had slept on forest floors with Geralt. This was more luxury than a regular day with the witcher. 

Shrek had some board and card games, which he seemed to enjoy to play. Jaskier wondered if Shrek usually played these games on his own or if he hosted guests more often. Neither seemed likely, since the games seemed to have gone untouched for at least a decade, if not longer. They shared a few laughs. Shrek turned out to be more fun company than Jaskier would ever have expected from an ogre. His jokes were terrible and sometimes a little insensitive, but he so clearly meant well. It was clear Shrek was not used to talking or any social interactions. He spoke like a young man still trying to figure out what was socially acceptable to say and what was not. Still, he was trying and Jaskier welcomes the vivid chatting. 

When they got tired, Jaskier curled up on the comfortable fauteuil by the fire. Shrek had draped a shirt of his over the human. It stank and was dirty, but it was warm and Jaskier was still low key afraid of getting kicked out to sleep in the mud, so he didn’t voice a single word of complaint. In the silence of the night with no one to talk to, words that were already spoken returned to his mind. Jaskier tried to block them out, but they bit at his brain, keeping him awake and drawing tears from his eyes. He curled further in on himself, trying to stay quiet as he sobbed into his hands. It just hurt so much to be discarded like he was nothing but a nuisance. Was that all he was? He was sure his songs brought joy in taverns, but right now the unlikely and unrealistic idea that everyone just pretended to have a good time was so overwhelming. 

The bard flinched when he felt a huge hand on his shoulder and arm. He looked up to find Shrek hanging over him in nothing but his smalls. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the ogre clearly wasn’t good with words. “I’m fine, Shrek,” Jaskier lied as he wiped the tears off his face, “I’ll just find the nearest town tomorrow and fuck the pain away.” The words had already left him, when he realised how that might sound. “And I’ll do that tomorrow, not because I think you’re hideous, quite the contrary, you might be the most handsome ogre to ever exist, but I just assumed you would not be interested in having sex with a human… male. Human male, doesn’t seem your taste, but it could be, I wouldn’t judge you. How could I? You’ve been a most generous host! I…” 

Jaskier almost suffocated as Shrek’s palm covered the entirety of his face. He got the hint and just shut up. Shrek slowly let go of his face, allowing him to breathe again. Jaskier looked away, cheeks red. He was blabbering nonsense to an ogre who preferred peace and quiet. He guessed it was time to sleep in the mud outside, however, Shrek wasn’t yelling at him… yet. 

“So you just have sex and that helps you feel better?” Jaskier nodded slowly. “I wouldn’t mind helping you feel better. It is not like I have had lassies lining up in the swamp… or lads.” He laughed a little awkwardly, making Jaskier laugh too. He took hold of one of Shrek’s huge fingers with two of his, by comparison, tiny hands. 

“Oh Shrek, you are such a wonderful host. You really do not have to do this though. I will still want to visit you again, even when you don’t want to fuck my brains out, just so I don’t have to think about some brutish asshole.” Shrek gave him a long look, before enclosing his hand around Jaskier’s waist and lifting him off the fauteuil. 

“It’s not just for you. It’s for me too.” And Jaskier wanted to read into those words, figure out the ogre with complicated feelings, but he had no willpower to. Shrek’s bed was firm, almost hard like a plank. It smelled like him, like onions and mud and firewood. Shrek tried to undress him, but his huge fingers couldn’t get a grip on Jaskier’s complex clothing. Jaskier smiled kindly at him, helping him without even needing to look at any button. “Can I kiss you?” Jaskier didn’t even reply. Instead he pulled Shrek’s head down. It was an awkward kiss. Shrek’s mouth was way too big and neither of them were very coordinated in the moment. 

When his clothes were mostly off and Jaskier was left in his smalls, Shrek kissed down his body, his huge tongue lapping at his skin and Jaskier could hear him enjoy the taste. He hummed to signal his pleasure, letting the ogre go about his business. Shrek pulled off his smalls and to Jaskier’s complete surprise, the ogre took his cock in his mouth. Jaskier whimpered, hands grabbing the sheets. Everything about Shrek was big, including his mouth. Even when the ogre sucked him to full hardness, Jaskier still didn’t feel the back of the ogre’s throat. Shrek sucked in his balls at well and Jaskier almost cried from the pleasure of having his cock and balls inside a warm mouth.  

When Shrek let Jaskier go, his length was hard, red and leaking. Jaskier barely had time to recover, before he felt that glorious tongue on him again, this time licking over his hole. Whispered pleas left his lips as he imagined that tongue inside of him. Then a thought crossed his mind. If everything about Shrek was big, what about his dick? Jaskier had seen the ogre’s hands and one finger was already bigger than the average cock. While he normally was down to go big, the imaginable size of Shrek’s dong low key terrified him.

His mind had no opportunity to freak him out completely, because Shrek’s tongue entered him and the feeling was so, so good. Jaskier moaned as big green hands spread his cheeks and thick wetness penetrated him. “Ah… ah Shrek I hate to be a uh… fuck!” The bard trashed his arms around when his new found friend started to stroke his cock at the same time. “I’m gonna cum! Way too soon, I know! Sto..aahh...” His whole body tensed as he spilled all over himself. Shrek was unrelenting. As the bard’s cock was spent, he still had his tongue inside him, pressing at the right places and wiggling around so talentedly. “Stop, stop, stop, it’s too much, really, too much.” 

Jaskier was out of breath, head fuzzy with post-orgasmic bliss. His whole brain short-circuited as Shrek’s tongue licked over his torso, cleaning him off all the cum he had spilled over himself. “Are you all right?” The green-skinned sex machine inquired with innocent eyes that did not match the absolute tent in his smalls. 

“Say, Shrek, will I die if I swallow ogre cum?” Jaskier almost laughed at Shrek’s expression. It was a ‘yes, no, maybe’. “Ok fine, but I will suck you off still.” The human pushed at the ogre, cornering the larger frame against the opposite wall, before getting on his knees. 

“With all due respect, Jask, I don’t think you can fit me anywhere.” Jaskier didn’t listen, pulling down Sherk’s white smalls in spite of knowing the ogre was probably right. As soon as 12 inch of green cock basically slapped him in the face, Jaskier knew he was in way over his head. Still, he was confident that if he tried, he could still fit the head inside his mouth. With Shrek still assuring him he did not have to do this, Jaskier started licking all over Shrek’s length. The taste was not as bad as he feared. In fact, the more he licked, the more he started to like it. Jaskier made out with the head of Shrek’s cock, fucking the slit with his tongue. Shrek was holding his shoulder, occasionally squeezing a little as he moaned. And oh were those delicious moans, primal, guttural, deep and vibrating through Jaskier’s entire body. 

The human tried many times, but he couldn’t slip the monster cock inside his mouth. He was resilient though and kept trying, while stroking the rest of the green length. He was so caught up in his quest that he didn’t hear Shrek telling him how close he was. He made a disappointed sound as he was forcibly removed from the cock in his mouth. Jaskier crawled back up the bed and stretched out his body. “Cum on me,” he wantonly moaned and Shrek did not disappoint. Jaskier had to close his eyes and mouth as he got showered in thick, beige cum. He never had felt this dirty, but it was a good kind. He wished he could have taken Shrek in his ass. He could’ve been so full. 

Once Shrek had stopped groaning, Jaskier dared to open his eyes. He could see guilt already spreading over Shrek’s face. He must have been a sight, so much smaller than Shrek and absolutely drenched in his cum. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve always fantasised about being showered in cum. Just never thought that all that cum would come from a single person.” 

Shrek let out a relieved sigh and helped him wipe some cum off his face so it wouldn’t get into his mouth or eyes. “I’ll prepare you a bath,” he spoke gently, surprising Jaskier with the thoughtfulness. His eyes followed the ogre as he put his breeches on and moved out to probably get some fresh water. A laugh escaped Jaskier as he stared at the sticky substance covering his skin. Who would’ve thought that the swamp could’ve been so pleasant? 

[huihuiheart]

Claiming - Hybrid! San

Navigation

Ateez Masterlist

Pairing: Tiger Hybrid! San x Female Reader

Genre: Smut + Fluff

Summary: Part 2 of Obvious - San’s heat is coming to an end and he’s finally ready to hear your explanation for the events that brought it on in the first place. He also realizes though that some of those feelings he had during the week weren’t just his heat talking.

Warnings: The implied cheating from part 1 is explained, unprotected sex, marking, dom/sub themes, oral (f! receiving), degradation, dirty talk, cursing, soft and hard dom San, biting, claiming, blood, slapping (one to the thigh).

Word Count: 2,884

Note: This was finished and edited on breaks between my first day of a new job, with only three hours of sleep in my body, so it might be a mess. If you have concerns or things that seem like they need to be fixed please send me an ask or pm to resolve it.

“A-All yours! I’m your filthy fucking slut! Your kitten! S-San please!” You wonder if you’ve done enough as he only curls his tongue into you once before pulling away again. When he’s flipping you over though and placing your hips on the highest part of the armrest to show your ass off you already know what he’s planning, “F-Fuck yes! San please, please fuck me so good! Show everyone who owns this pussy!”

San laughs breathlessly as he strips behind you, playfully spanking your ass as he teases his tip through your fold before gripping your hips harshly and suddenly thrusting all the way into you. Leaning down with a smirk he kisses the shell of your ear before whispering.

“Oh, I will, kitten. You’ll be dripping my cum for days.”

You stirred by the feeling of fleeting kisses against the sensitive marks littering your neck. Your quiet whimper makes San slow his pace, being more gentle in the way his lips and tongue soothe at the marks he so harshly left behind over the last few days.

“Are you already ready for another round?” You whine softly, slumber still deep in your voice as you don’t even open your eyes yet. San was definitely built for weeks like this whereas you...not so much, despite how pleasant it was.

San chuckles deeply, “I mean I am, but that’s not why I woke you. I hadn’t intended to wake you at all. You’ve done so well for me this week, but you’re so exhausted now I just wanted to let you sleep.”

You hum softly with a small yawn, “You’re oddly soft right now, is your heat over already?”

“Not entirely, but it’s pretty much passed. I might get a sudden flash or two of heat today and tomorrow, the worst is over though. I’m at least coherent again.” San brushes the hair out of your face as your eyes finally flutter open to look up at him, before he kisses you softly, “Though eating you out might help with that a little bit too.”

You snicker knowing his statement was actually a request, “Go ahead then, you woke me up anyway and I’m too tired to stop you.”

San hums teasingly, “More like too enticed to stop me.”

You roll your eyes, making San laugh a little as he moves to hover over you, gently nudging your bare legs apart. You’re clothed in only a shirt and some panties knowing anything more wouldn’t have lasted during his heat anyways...not that these often did either. 

His hands ease up your thighs, inching closer and closer to your panties and the beginning of a wet spot that was forming. His thumb finding your clit through the thin fabric and rubbing slow circles onto it, easing your sensitive body into arousal once more. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s ready to go again.” San teases, nuzzling up your thigh until he reaches your panties. His tongue giving slow laps over the wetness seeping through the material, a moan low in his throat at your taste. 

His heat is still spiking just slightly with you like this, so his hands are already moving to take your panties off. Going as slow as he can will with his heat making itself known still, not to tease for once though, simply to ensure your comfort after the last couple days of restless fucking. 

San’s rough tongue is slow and gentle in its movements between your folds. Watching your face closely to take in how you were feeling. When he determines that you’re feeling good and it’s not too much he places a soft kiss on your clit before giving it some attention. His lips around your clit shrouding your whole body in sweet bliss. His goal is just to bring you over the sweet edge once and to do so gently, letting your tensed worn-out body release and finally relax some. Only lapping your release up for a little bit, not wanting to overstimulate you, just to clean you up.

“So good for me, kitten. Such a good girl.” San praises softly and you buzz at the praise drawing him up for a brief kiss.

“Does this mean we can finally talk about what happened?” You inquire with a quiet voice not wanting to push anything, especially with San’s heat still lingering.

San hums, “We can, but not yet. First I’m going to draw you a nice bath to relax and clean up in and then I’m going to feed you some breakfast. We can talk once I’ve made sure you’ve had a chance to recover.” 

He kisses your forehead before going to do as he had said he was going to. Humming a soft tune as he goes, something that eases your worries about where you and he stood.

Leaning back in your seat after finishing a full meal without interruption for the first time in four days you were starting to feel much more recharged now. Thinking that San may have had a good point in wanting to clean up and eat properly first. 

Resting your chin in your palm you watch him as he finishes up his own food and it makes him chuckle, “That eager to talk about it?”

“I mean...I’ve been anxious about it so kind of ready to get it over with. I’m worried about what you think of me.” You admit, leaning into San’s touch when you feel him cupping your cheek.

“I know I get jealous easily, but I trust you, my love. I know whatever explanation you have will be reasonable.” San encourages brushing his thumb over your skin.

“My brother is visiting, so I went to spend some time with him. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, so there was a lot of hugging involved.” You laugh a little when San’s brows furrowed in confusion knowing the scent wasn’t anything like yours or anyone in your family, “He was my foster brother. My family looked after him for a few years until someone adopted him...well before we were able to anyways. He comes and visits when he can, but it’s not super often. I was going to tell you about it, considering he wants to meet you, but it kind of triggered your heat, so we’ve not really got a chance to talk about that.”

San flushes a little rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah...we have been a bit preoccupied...but of course, I’d want to meet him! Though I am curious as to why he wants to meet me.”

“He said it’s because you’re important to me...and he says he can tell from how happy I am that you’re the one. So he wants to come to see if you have any wedding plans or anything I guess.” You laugh a little but notice how his ears perk up at the mention of weddings.

“Oh? It’s interesting you bring that up...cause my heat got me thinking about somethings.” San admits, blushing a slightly deeper hue now. 

This time it’s you who reaches out to him, cupping his cheek in your palm and trying to calm him, “Well you can talk to me about it if you’re ready to. You know that.”

San nods softly, hand slipping over yours and turning his head to kiss your palm, “I just want to move too fast and scare you away or anything.” 

“If you’re moving too fast I’ll say so, but I seriously doubt you’ll ever scare me away at this point. If that was going to happen it would have happened a long time ago.” You joke with him, trying to lighten the mood some and put him more at ease.

“Well we haven’t really talked about it too much, so for starters...hybrids don’t usually have a wedding as you would have. I mean...I’m not opposed to it of course especially for you and your family. I know how special and meaningful that is for you...but we take that step differently typically.” San explains, noticing how your face scrunches in confusion. You had done a lot of research about hybrids having San around and wanting to be familiar with his needs and what to expect, yet you’d never seen anything that you could think he could be talking about now.

“Well then what do you usually do? I want to know. If we were to have a wedding for me, then I’d want to do the equivalent for you too.” You encourage and he takes your hands in his carefully.

“Why don’t you hear what it is before making that decision, my love. It might not be so pleasant for you...like my heat you’ll be okay to handle it, but you weren’t made for it either. So if you don’t want to do it I understand.” San leans forward brushing your hair back and kissing your forehead softly, “For hybrids, we do something a lot less public...and a lot more intimate. Usually, we get the urge to do it while in our heat, but unless we really want that it goes away after our heat...that desire isn’t going away for me this time. I want it still.” 

Your skin is a bit heated at the implications, but you still have so many unanswered questions, “Just tell me what happens San. It’s alright.”

“When a hybrid and the person who he wants to be with forever...to be his mate are...well...breeding. He claims her, right here...” San’s thumb brushes over the sensitive skin on your sweet spot, the very spot he loves to suckle his marks onto, “ It’s a bite simply put, meant to leave a lasting mark for anyone to see. It will hurt and it will bleed, but I promise it will make you feel good too and I’ll take care of you if you were to agree.” 

You hum, processing his explanation for a moment, “And you want to do that with me?”

San nods almost immediately, “I do. I really...really do, but I don’t want to hurt you or do anything that would make you upset or uncomfortable.”

“Well, I’ll agree...on one condition.” You finally voice your opinion and it has San looking at you intently, waiting to hear whatever it was your condition would me. Ready to do anything in a heartbeat, “I want to do this in some sort of order that makes sense to me too...so propose first and once we’re engaged you can claim me in every way you want San.”

“Oh fuck...I totally forgot about the whole engagement thing...I have to get a ring, don’t I? ...fuck, I don’t even know where to start.” San whines and it makes you giggle.

“Who says we have to have the ring in hand for you to propose? You can ask without it...besides I’m sure my family would love to help you pick something out later.” You smirk at him, watching as it takes a minute to understand what you mean before getting giddy once again.

San scrambles down onto one knee, giggling a little himself, “Well then...Y/N will you marry me? Will you be my one and only? Forever?”

“Yes San, I will.” You giggle back, cupping his cheeks and leaning down to kiss him. Something he easily returns as he stands and takes you into his arms. 

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to become more intense, San’s heat flashing through him again at your agreeing and touch. It being enough to spur on another wave of desire, one that was obvious even to you as a human. In part because you knew him and in part due to the fact that his skin burned under your touch, his arousal building beneath his pants and pressing against your hip.

“Well go on then...if you want it so badly I’m not going to stop you San. I want it too, to be yours for the whole world to see...claim me San.” Your pleads have San growling, nipping at your lips before capturing them passionately once more. His hands groping at any part of you that they could get to as he gets more desperate to feel you again. 

San’s hands move to grip your thighs, pressing against you before picking you up to carry you back to your bedroom. His tongue laving over your sweet spot, before giving it special attention with his lips, only breaking away to lay you back onto the bed. 

“How sore are you, kitten?” San asks, hands toying with the hem of the shirt you were wearing as he watches your face.

“Not enough that you should hold back.” You smirk, knowing what he was asking and he smacks your thigh playfully, barely leaving a sting.

“Don’t get cocky with me, just because I’m trying to take care of my kitten. Besides you’re going to be sore again after this.” San’s words sound more like a promise than anything else as his lips find your throat again, seemingly fixed on it right now. His hands working your shirt up at a slow pace, not ready to leave the sweet spot his mouth was focused on again yet. 

“I better be. I like having that constantly reminding me of you. Besides, the things that lead to me being so sore are the most fun anyway.” Your words make San smirk against your skin, before pulling back to pull your shirt off entirely.

“Oh is that so kitten? Does my girl like it rough?” San mocks leaning down to bite playfully at your nipple, “Want me to ruin you?” 

“Fuck, yes...I do. I want it so badly.” Your desperation is growing along with his and making you both restless. San’s chuckle turns into a growl as he smells your arousal in the air. 

San’s fingers slip down between your folds, seeing how wet you were before quickly pulling your panties down. His hand moves to return to your folds until you push it away, making his eyes snap up to your face sternly.

“Easy there tiger.” You snicker, “I’m not stopping you, it’s just...” 

San’s brows furrow at your hesitance thinking maybe you were reconsidering this for now, until he sees how flustered you are instead of regret on your face, “What is it kitten?”

“Please no teasing...I’m already ready for you again, no prep.” You admit and San licks his lips looking down at your soaked folds. 

“Oh, so that’s what it is hm? And here I thought I was the desperate one with my heat.” San taunts, making quick work of his pants and letting his hard cock slap against his abs. 

You nod, biting your lip. Though soon it won’t matter what you do, San will have you screaming. San’s tip running through your sodden folds as something, before pushing into you. The feeling only more familiar after the last few days, but no less blissful. His hands gripping your hips, thumbs rubbing at your skin, before his touch gets firmer, holding you in place. His thrusts start slow, but deep and forceful, hitting all the right spots. Enamored with the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, leaning down and teasingly flicking his tongue over one of your nipples. 

As his pace picks up his hands move to your thighs, pushing them open to give himself full access to your heat. His one hand moving up again, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing circles onto it. His other hand now gripping your jaw to make you look into his eyes. His lips moving in towards yours, growling against your lips.

“Fuck kitten, you’re so good for me. You’re going to take it, won’t you? You’ll cum and then take everything I give you like a good girl won’t you?” San’s questions are more of a demand knowing that you could, but there’s a desperation to them that lets you know he needs your answer too. 

Your palms pull his face in for a kiss before moving his face to your neck again, fingers tangling into his hair and tugging to a nip and another growl.

"I...I'm going to cum for you San..." You keen, San thrusting harder, his fingers putting more pressure on your clit. Trying to distract you from the initial pain you would soon feel as he bites down onto your sweet spot the second he feels you cumming around him. The pain soon bleeds into white-hot pleasure coursing through your whole body, riding you through your orgasm, the more intense you've had yet as he cums inside of you.

Once you've both started to come back to reality San leans down, gently lapping at the wound as blood trickles out and onto your skin. Before giving you a short, sweet kiss.

"I'm going to clean that up and get it taken care of and then I'll take care of the rest of you kitten." He promises, kissing your forehead, " You've done so good for me you can rest now."

His words of assurance are all your body needs for you to start drifting off again. Only slightly registering the feeling of him cleaning and dressing the wound for you before you're entirely swept away into your dreams...dreams of the future. Of your future, with San.

Tags: @foreveryouaremystar​

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Limerence [M] ︳34

Pairing: Zuko x Fem. OC (Ying Yue Jiang)

Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with future smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.

Rating: SFW

Words: 16100+

Notes: It’s finally up! Sorry it took me so long to edit, I don’t know why, but it kept lagging. I’m probably gonna log on tmw and re-edit because things just kept freezing on here. But take care everyone, and I hope you like it~!

Masterlist ︳33 ︳ 35 [M]

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person.

The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.

“Lacuna”

(Latin/n.) A blank space, a missing part.

~ Countess Mai ~

           Fucking Ying Yue, that dumb bitc-

           Kissing my teeth disagreeably loud, I could feel the jagged rocks under the thin sole of my shoes, the ground stupidly uneven and uncharted. My breathing came in quick pants, bruises lingering on my arms, thighs burning as we marched up the cliff at a steady pace. The looming trees above provided ample shade and cover, kicking up dust as Azula trailed in front.

           My lips parted, another exhausted breath escaping me as I narrowed my eyes – Azula.

           Her long ponytail swayed side to side like a whip, face void of any expressive emotion, trekking forward with purpose. Her shoulders were squared, not breaking a sweat from the steepness of the hill or the humid air. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve said she was completely fine – but I knew better.

           “Azula,”  I muttered, voice monotoned, barely audible. But the speed at which Azula’s posture tensed proved as evidence that she heard me loud and clear. Still sharp as ever.

           Effortlessly, she looked over her shoulder, raising a perfectly groomed brow at me. “What?” Azula clipped, jaw clenched as she bore over me impatiently. I ignored the sharpness in her tone, a gentle breeze causing the bangs that framed her face to twirl—the way she held her head high, nose in the air.

           Her pace didn’t flatter once, high-tailing at an alarmingly hasty pace. Don’t blame her, the faster we get away from the Kingdom, the better. The scenery around us was different from the last hide-out she brought me to. The landscape seemed thicker, so dense that one could easily scream for help, and not a single soul would hear—a perfect hide-out.

           “Are we close?” I bore, rolling my eyes as my foot nudged a rock. “If I wanted to go on a nature walk, I would’ve gone to work with my sister.”

           The stone tumbled, skipping by Azula’s feet.

           She scoffed under her breath, eyes judging as she twisted her body forward, continuing on her march. “Why, tired? Try not to get your ass kicked by a peasant next time.” Azula expired, and I could hear the way her lips curved upwards at the insult.

           My eyes glowered once more, “Nice scar you have on your hand.”

           Azula stopped.

           The way her hands quaked, balling into fists before letting go-

           My pace eased, cautiously treading behind her before coming to a complete stop, surveying the way she towered above. Despite her back facing me, I could feel it. An aura of malice – down to the twitch in her fingertips.

           I swallowed, seeing the bright pink scar that ran across Azula’s palm. The way the dipping sun managed to seep through the thick bush, seemingly emphasizing how deep the cut ran. It wasn’t a wound for the weak, the skin roughly patched together by her flames. Gross.

           Azula abruptly shook her hand, balling it into a fist as if she could feel my lingering eyes studying the cut in detail.

           “Up ahead,” She spoke, catching my attention, “The cave.”

           I looked beyond Azula, realizing the way the ground evened for a moment, moss-covered rocks looming ahead. The entrance was almost entirely out of sight, only noticeable now that she pointed out the obvious. Trees grew on top of the structure, the dark abyss begging us to enter—the perfect image of a secreted lair.

           My feet itched to move, but I stopped myself, noting that Azula didn’t move a muscle despite us being a few steps away. Fucking- I swore under my breath, flicking my fingers in annoyance.

           “What’s the holdup?” I grumbled, trying my hardest not to roll my eyes once again, but it was her voice. The deadly drop in pitch, the way she hissed.

           “I’ll kill her,” Azula whispered, and I could feel my skin begin to heat up.

           Every word Azula spat was laced with venom, filled with a deep-rooted hatred, a passion and emotion-evoking tone that was all too unfamiliar. Azula, the most put-together being, the only one to keep her composure together, even in the heat of battle. But now-

           The way Azula’s fists trembled, letting her emotions rise to the surface.

           She’s not the same.

           “I’ll make her regret thinking that I’m anything less than perfect.” Azula hissed under her breath, and I grimaced. She didn’t need to say her name for me to know who she was talking about. Her nails dug into the skin of her palm, a bead of scarlet running down her porcelain skin, her wound reopening.

           Soundlessly I watched as the lone droplet of blood dripped onto the dirt below, and just like that – with a quick shake of her hand, Azula walked forward. Her shoulders were relaxed, flicking a strand of hair behind her ears as she casually strolled.

           As if nothing had happened.

           Not a single sound could be heard besides the rustling of the tree branches, Azula’s feet kicking up a trail of dust as she stomped over loose rocks. The only real thing of interest in this forsaken forest was her retreating figure.

           The mouth of the cave eagerly welcomed Azula, the shadows beginning to swallow her body. Just as she was about to take another step, she halted, head tilting as if trying to hear something. She looked over her shoulder, an exhausted look on her face.

            “Stop gawking like a fool, Mai, or else I’ll leave you with the Avatar and his annoying friends.” Azula pestered, her tone oddly tranquil, different from the act moments ago.

           I glared, kissing my teeth as I commanded my feet to move.

           “Whatever,” I muttered petulantly, begrudgingly going as I stripped my gaze away. I could hear Azula snort, rustling onward as I swiftly caught up. The burn in my legs seemed to grow tenfold, the slight pause in our march giving time for my body to take in the damage Ying Yue unleashed earlier. What a nuisance.

           I crossed my arms, eyes looking straight ahead as the space around us darkened the further we descended into the mouth of the cave.

           The air felt abnormally dewy, but it was the uncanny silence as we entered that had my guard rising. The sound of Azula’s and I breathing seemed to have intensified, every sniffle or breaking of a twig ricocheting off the walls at an alarming volume. Watchfully my eyes scanned our surroundings, piles of rubbish sprinkled.

           Food, water canisters-

           “Where the fuck is she?” A man’s voice resonated in the ample space, and my pace flattered. My eyes tapered, taking note of the glowing specs of light up ahead. People, but that voice-

           I knew that voice, and I could feel my gut drop.        

           Memories of Kayto swamped my mind, remembering the final moments of that faithful day. The sound of his body slain from the inside, his last breath, how lifeless his eyes looked-

           “Looking for me, Yakone?” Azula purred devilishly, as she strolled frontward. The illuminations were now in full view, torches laid along with the outermost corners, lighting the space. But that wasn’t what caught my attention.

           It was the tall foreboding man at the center, whose chest was rising and falling, eyes glowing. His fists balled up, nostrils flared the moment he caught sight of Azula, before briefly shifting his gaze on me. His lips pressed tight; jaw clenched as he took a sharp inhale.

           “Where the fuck were you, and why is your fucking finger-puppet here?” Yakone spat, stepping forward, dangerous slow.

           Azula’s body stiffened slightly, but the way she brushed back her long bangs behind her ear, letting a hand rest on her hip as if she was completely unbothered by the beast in front of her. Yakone’s eyes were stone cold, a blue that easily reminded one of the dark depths of the sea, the unknown �� danger.

           “Mai is staying with us now.”

           “Isn’t that a fucking treat.” Yakone sarcastically replied, running a hand through his hair.

           Azula’s eyes narrowed, Yakone licking his lips impatiently. “You know what else is a fucking treat, the fact that I just got word that someone tried to kill not only your dumbass brother but Ying Yue.” He bellowed. The veins in his neck bulged as he spoke, and as he took a step headfirst, Azula took a step back.

           Why would Yakone be upset that Azula wanted to kill Ying Yue? Isn’t that plan?

           Carefully I followed her lead, letting my body ease its way to the other side of the stony encasement, and as I shifted, I could see the look on Azula’s face. Her lips pressed, eyes conspicuous as Yakone inched his way closer and closer to her figure. Azula, she’s cowering away-

           “What are you trying to suggest, Yakone,” Azula warned, and he merely hooted, losing his patience by the second. “It was you and your lil’ friend over there, wasn’t it? You tried to kill Ying Yue.” Yakone interrogated, his hands twitching, cracking his fingers.

           She rolled her eyes, “What makes you think I have anything to do with this?”

           My eyes widen, hearing those words leave her lips - Azula’s lying.

           The way Azula effortlessly tried to bypass Yakone’s questioning, acting aloof and unbothered. But I saw the way Yakone rolled his shoulders back, chest buffing. My arms reached into my sleeves, fingers grazing the knives that laid hidden-

           And just like that, Yakone lunged.

           His hand reached forward with speed, grabbing Azula’s by her neck, shoving her against the rocks behind. His fingers spread across her windpipe, nails digging into her skin.

           Azula looked like a hurt puppy.

           The way Yakone effortlessly overpowered her, the grip on his hand tightening, purple and blue bruises rising to the surface of her skin quickly. The sound of my feet shifting over the dirt that decorated the floor caught Yakone’s attention, as he raised his free hand, wiggling his fingers towards me.

           “Fucking try, and I swear I’ll make your death more painful than Kayto’s.”

           I stilled, holding my breath as I watched as Azula’s hands fell over his.

           “What are you doing-” she hissed, eyes crazed as he practically lifted her body off the ground with no struggle. Her feet barely touched the ground, Yakone putting a warning-amount of pressure on her neck, her face turning a light shade of pink.

           “Don’t you ever fucking forget, Azula, who needs who here.” Yakone snarled.

           He leaned closer to her face; their foreheads pressed together as he tousled above. “I agreed to your plan because of two things. No United Nations, and your brother’s demise. One of those things failed, meaning Zuko’s death is the one reason why I’m even here.”

           Azula growled, “I told you I wanted to ruin him, damage him, not kill.”

           “Oh, now we’re getting into technicalities here, and I’m not one for word games. I want Zuko dead, Ying Yue was not apart of this discussion.”

           “What do you expect, Yakone? That she’s going to run and give hugs and kisses to her long-lost Uncle? You’re a criminal.”

           “And what about you, smart-ass?” Yakone shouted, shoving her body further against the rocks. She winced as the sharp edges dug into her back, “You think you’re just going to hurt Zuko and take the throne? You were nothing more but a tool for your father’s failed plan, even your mother, tossed you aside. You’re disposable.”

           The looks on both of their faces, insults and slurs tossed, each one of them raising their voices to beat each other—a shouting match, whose lungs were loudest, who could hurt the other more. I swallowed hard, taking a step back as my arms limply fell to my side.

           The whole time I thought Azula and Yakone shared the same goals, a singular plan in mind. But the way Azula shrieked and Yakone roared had my body feeling numb, their fighting fading to background noise.

           I thought the real threat was Azula and Yakone working together, but I was wrong.

           This was far worse.

           There’s no longer a game plan, a goal, or a motive.

           One wants blood, and the other wants power – both willing to cross each other and lie to get what they want.

 ~ Ying Yue Jiang ~

           “She’s pregnant!”

           “What a blessing, will this be her third child?”

           “Fourth, her eldest is serving in the navy.”

           “Ahh, yes-yes, slipped from my mind. How beautiful, if only I could convince my husband…”

           “Makes two of us. How about you, Imperial Consort Ying Yue? Have you thought about having children of your own?” The ladies giggled, sipping away on their sweet teas in the garden.  

           The cherry blossom branches swayed under the gentle breeze, the pink flowers cascading with the current, fluttering like butterflies. The cool shade painted our skin, providing as an escape from the blaring sun, although the kids didn’t seem to mind the heat in the slightest. Quite the contrary – they were thriving.

           Their laughter was clear as day, ringing throughout the palace gardens, but I couldn’t help but tune in with Kiyi’s the most. The ladies’ banter lost to the birds humming and moving water – absorbed in the beautiful smile on Kiyi’s face as she chatted away with her friends.

           A red and golden embroidered picnic blanket laid over the grass, Kiyi was passing along the turtle duck food for her friends to feed. Her cheeks were dusted in pink, telling them fascinating facts about the creatures from the Southern Water Tribe.

           “After school tomorrow, I’ll read the book to you. They have this animal called a ‘Polar Bear Dog’ – and it’s so cute and fluffy!” Kiyi gushed, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t snort hearing her excitement. The way her eyes twinkled with passion, a small part of my heart hurt – because the look reminded me so much of Zuko’s whenever he got excited.

           Zuko…I miss you-

           “Imperial Consort?” A voice droned; the sound close to my being, I found myself jumping. My head snapped to the women beside me, them staring at me with looks of concern. Shit – what were we talking about again?

           “My apologies, I was watching the children-” I started, and the lady to my side started to snicker. She rose a napkin to her face, delicately tapping the tissue to rid herself of any crumbs that littered her appearance. All the women looked put-together, their hair and makeup done to impress, their clothes extravagant, meant to display their status.

           “I guess that answers our question.”

           “What question?” I inquired, and the ladies began to laugh once again.

           “Whether or not Fire Lord Zuko and you are planning on having children anytime soon.” She replied, shooting me a sheepish smile. My mouth dropped, a shy blush coating my cheeks as a meek oh escaped me. Of course, they were talking about children and family. Almost all the high-ranking nobles were married, most with kids – or pregnant.

           I stuck out like a sore thumb in these ‘royal tea parties,’ unable to relate to the women or men due to my lack of domestic life. I’m a mere child dressed in adult clothes – playing dress-up. My hands fell over my lap after combing my hair behind my ear, carelessly pressing thumbs as a means to keep my composure. I could feel my skin starting to heat up once again.

           Another fever- Katara is going to kill me.

           “Well, if it is not out of line to ask – when do you and Fire Lord Zuko plan on officially tying the knot?” A curious voice peeked, and at the question alone, I found myself reaching for my teacup, stealing a sip of the much-needed chamomile tea.

           Marriage – with Zuko? I fought back the petty laugh. Marriage with Zuko seems more like a distant dream than a reality.

           “Hopefully, once Fire Lord Zuko completes a few of his personal projects. Love is patient after all, and I’ll wait an eternity for him.” I spoke, forcing the words to leave my lips as I swallowed the lukewarm liquid.

           It was comical, how quick they were to eat up my words, gushing about how romantic I was, that I was willing to wait for Zuko – words straight out of a romance novel. If only they knew that that was only scratching the surface of what I would do for Zuko, the things I would sacrifice.

           I could feel my shoulders slump over in defeat, biting my lips anxiously.

           The women didn’t notice the waver in my voice, the blue smile on my face, or the tears that I desperately held back. They were more concerned about the newest designer, skincare product, and fragrance – topics I would’ve undoubtedly been interested in if I didn’t have a looming fog in my mind.

           Politics, it’s all politics.

           The kid’s squeals peeked in volume, catching my attention, the children throwing their napkins in the air, towards Kiyi. What in the world-

           “It’s okay! I’ll be right back!” Kiyi insisted before standing up.

           Her black hair bobbed side to side, skipping towards me at full speed. Droplets of something dripping after every bounce, tainting the green coloured grass under her steps, seeping into the soil.

           “Button-” I cooed, letting my tea rest on my plate before outstretching my arms. My hands caressed her face, and the happiness in her expression had me sporting a smile – a genuine smile. Kiyi was a breath of fresh air. Youthfulness and innocence, a heart of pure gold.

           “What happened, button? You’re a mess.” I snickered under my breath, watching the sticky liquid trickle from the hem of her dress, her lap completed covered. She scratched her head, shooting me a spirited grin. She looks just like Zuko when she smiles like that-

           “An accident, I didn’t see the jug of juice, and I kind of hit it.” Kiyi giggled, and I couldn’t help but snort, running my hand through her loose locks. “You’re so silly, button. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” I assured, light-heartedly tapping her nose.

           Kiyi nodded her head before shifting her gaze to the women I was seated with. My eyes followed hers, flustered at how the women looked over us with broad smiles – hearts for eyes.

           “I bet on two kids.”

           “Really? I think one.”

           “Wouldn’t be surprised if they already have a name picked out.” The ladies bantered between themselves as if I wasn’t currently sitting with them.

           I could feel a tiny finger poke my cheek, looking back at Kiyi, a teasing smile on her face. And seeing her sport that knowing look, a look that reminded me of a harmonious mixture of Zuko’s and Toph’s ‘I’m up to no good’ had me freezing.

           Oh no-

           “Izumi – Zuzu told me that that’s the name they want,” Kiyi spoke up, catching on to the topic at hand far too quickly for my liking. The women all leaned over in disbelief, jaws hitting the table, struggling to process the very thing Kiyi blurted.

           My eyes widen, the silly banter of family life between Zuko and I exposed. When and why did Zuko tell Kiyi this information-

           “Button-”

           “And Zuzu said they have a baby room set up in their vacation house! I can’t wait until I become an aunt. He said it’s a very serious job and-” My hand fell over Kiyi’s lips, cutting her off midsentence as I shot the women an embarrassed smile.

           The redness of my face was no longer due to my impending fever – but out of the utter realization that Zuko seemingly unleashes all his damn soft and fluffy feelings to her. Kiyi really is Zuko’s weakness, isn’t she?

           “Let’s get that dress cleaned button,” I said through awkward giggles, hand still firmly placed over her face, Kiyi letting out squeals of delight through my fingers.

           “Yue and Zuzu, sitting on a-”

           “Throne because he’s Fire Lord and I’m his-”

           “Wifey.” Kiyi managed to yelp.

           The speed at which my body moved, not bothering to say my goodbyes to these royals, as I nudged Kiyi’s body forward with my own. There was no way in the spirit world I was going to look behind me, already imaging the sunny looks on those women’s faces hearing the fuss coming from Kiyi’s lips.

           “I swear, button, I’m going to revoke cookie dates from you!” I mumbled under my breath, feeling the way Kiyi’s body shook from joy. My hand slipped from her mouth, her face pink as she held her stomach, her laughter loud and proud. And despite the embarrassment and exasperation, I found myself laughing along with her.

           There was something about hearing a child’s guiltless laugh that was contagious, especially coming from Kiyi. The smile on my face was enormous, reaching my eyes. When was the last time I smiled this much? The last time I laughed freely, enjoying my time?

           “You’re so much trouble, button~.” I blew, hands falling over her shoulders, embracing her. My fingers squeezed her chubby cheeks from behind basking in the sun’s heat before we walked up the palace steps. The guards before us opened the grand doors, observing the way I coddled Kiyi to my body. Like a momma bear.

           There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that they didn’t already know the trouble Kiyi could cause in less than a minute – the reason why they all sported small grins watching us enter.

           A handful, just like her brother.

           We stepped inside the Kingdom, walking side by side, glued to the hip, humming happily. Our footsteps pattered along the flooring, heading towards her room, but I saw the cheeky glances Kiyi tried to steal from the corner of her eyes, studying my figure. She thinks she’s so sly.

           I snickered at her childish behaviour, poking her cheek, “What are you staring at so much, button? Do I have some crumbs on my face?”

           “No~.” Kiyi giggled, tilting her head to the side.

           “Then tell me, button.” I pestered, enjoying her coyness. Her blush deepened, a flush I didn’t notice until now, before poking her one more time, “Tell me, what are you staring at so intently?”

           “You’re smiling again…you’re pretty when you smile.” Kiyi breathed.

           Our paces stilled; my breathing hitched as Kiyi wore the saddest smile on her face. An expression no child should ever have to wear. My shoulders dropped in surprise, not fully processing the words she spoke.

           “Ever since Zuzu got this cold, you’ve been really sad…you must miss him a lot, I can tell.” Kiyi uttered. Her tone dripped with distress, only then noticing where her golden eyes were settled over.

           Men and women dressed in red with badges strapped to their arms. The cross-shaped icon of their insignia standing out amongst their outfit. They were moving around us hastily, clipboards pressed against their chests, giving us quick bows before running through the large doors before us.

           The Infirmary.

           How did I not notice before?

           “I want to visit Zuzu, but Mom told me that I couldn’t. She said that he’s sleeping, but-but he’ll wake up soon…” Kiyi continued, although the more she spoke, the quiver in her voice grew. I breathed in deeply, hearing the pain in Kiyi’s words. Gosh, of course, she misses Zuko.

           They’re two peas in a pod – an inseparable duo. I watched as Kiyi sprung side to side, a whirlwind of emotions flying by. But what pained me the most about this was the fact that Kiyi didn’t know a single thing, the truth.

           A nasty cold – that’s all it was.

           “I’m going to pick some flowers for Zuzu for your bedroom! He loves it when I pick him flowers. Can I do that, Yue?” Kiyi questioned, and I smiled at the positive idea, the ache laced in her tone already lost, a chirpiness finding light. Seeing how quick she bounced back to her upbeat self, pushing past the sad thoughts, the spirit of a Firebender.

           My knees bent, going down to her height, our pupils leveled.

           “Zuko would love that, button.” I whispered docilely, brushing her black locks behind her ear, “Any gift from you would make him smile.”

           My smile grew, seeing how a faint pink painted her cheeks, like tiny pink stars that decorated the starry night. “Yue…can I-can I ask you for a favour?” Kiyi questioned shyly, looking down at her toes, her hands stuffed into her dress pockets. I let my finger dip underneath her chin, compelling her gaze to met mine.

           “Anything button.”

           “I-I made a get-better card for Zuzu in school today. Can you-can you give it to him?” Kiyi requested, pulling from her pocket. My eyes dipped, noticing the little red card appear from her dress, astonished it wasn’t ruined from the juice spilling over her lap. A large sun was painted in front with a smiley face, ‘Get better Zuzu!!!!’ scribbled across.

           The smile from my face flattered, lips parting as I took in what Kiyi asked me to do – the effort she put into this card. She wants me to give this to Zuko? My eyes snapped back to her, taking in the look of pure and utter determination on her face.

           There was nothing more Kiyi wanted at this moment than for her big brother to have this card.

           I opened my mouth to say something – but I couldn’t, lips trembling as I struggled to think coherently. The feather-like footsteps from the maids and nurses around us seemed to intensify, sounding like thunder. Blood rushing to my head as the thought of seeing Zuko’s resting figure tormented my mind.

           Kiyi will be heartbroken if I say no, but Zuko-

           “Button, I-I-” I stammered agonizingly, unable to find the right answer, trying to catch my breath. But the look on Kiyi’s face. Gosh, the similarities in expressions with Zuko, it was baffling.

           I can’t hurt her like this, but to see Zuko after so long-

           A delicate hand fell over my shoulder, like a plume, and Kiyi’s eyes widened in surprise before shooting the stranger behind me a joyful smile. I flinched at the unexpected tender touch over my kneeling figure. The familial grasp accustomed.

           “Avatar Aang!”

           “Hi Kiyi, what are you two doing over here? Planning on visiting your brother with Yue?” Aang spoke light-heartedly from behind, his pitch higher in tone than usual. I could feel the way his hand shifted over my shoulder, his fingers wrapping around my body, squeezing.

           He’s telling me to relax-

           “No~. I can’t visit, grown-ups only. But I made a card for Zuzu, and I want Yue to give it to him!”

           “A card, so thoughtful, Kiyi! It’s been a while since Yue saw your brother. What a perfect reason to see him now.” Aang casually spoke, his playful and cheerful aura shining through. And while any other day I would’ve gushed about how well Aang was with children, my mind focused on the words he uttered. I knew the double meaning.

           “Aang-” I warned with a batted breath.

           A cold sweat started to form on my eyebrow, the fever and impending panic attack beginning to work its way back to the surface no matter how hard I tried to shove the looming emotions away. I didn’t need to look over my shoulder, as I could feel Aang’s usual doe-like eyes boring holes into the back of my head, goosebumps rising on my skin.

           “I was going to see Zuko right now. I can go with Yue.” Aang continued, and I could hear the smile on his face. But despite the casual tone, there was an unspoken sternness. He wasn’t leaving this up for debate.

           Kiyi, utterly oblivious to Aang’s underlying message, squealed in delight. She shot me a great smile, a smile that had my stomach in knots as her tiny hands gripped my own, tugging on my sleeves. The excitement that ran through her body, practically jumping and standing on her toes.

           “Thank you, Yue! You’re the best; I’m so lucky to have a big sister like you. No wonder Zuko says he wants to marry you!” Kiyi gushed, and I could feel my skin begin to prickle. Zuko wants to marry me- “I can wash up by myself, so don’t worry about me, Yue! Here is the card-” Kiyi rushed, shoving the fragile thing into my grip.

           But what caught me off guard the most was the way Kiyi leaned towards me, pressing her puckered lips against my cheek. The feeling of her pouting lips, planting a gigantic wet kiss, had me blushing with happiness. It was adorable, sweet, a gesture that I didn’t deserve.

           “You’re the best; I love you!” Kiyi blurted all in one breath.

           No, I’m not, I’m far from ‘best,’ and even farther from ‘good.’

           “I love you too, button.” I hummed, pressing a bittersweet kiss on her cheek before she pulled away. She glowed at the words of endearment, waving at Aang before skipping down the hallway. I watched as she clasped on her juice-covered dress, giggles flowing from her innocent lips as she danced away, her figure becoming nothing more but a fleeting dot.

           It was Aang’s moderate tap that pulled me away from my trance, looking over my shoulder to see him standing in those mustard coloured robes of his.

           “Let me help you up, Yue.” Aang hummed as he reached, our fingers brushing against each other. He tugged me forward easily, letting me find my footing, as I dusted off my dress. As I patted down, I couldn’t help but let my digits slide over the hand-made card Kiyi gave me.

           The large sun she had painted with a cheery smile, staring back at me almost mockingly.

           Why did it hurt so much to see this card?

           “You’re flushed, Yue. Is your fever back?” Aang worried, stepping closer as he carefully inspected my figure. The further he inched his way towards me, I found myself blinking rapidly, taking in Aang’s appearance.

           The deep circles under his eyes, cheeks a bit more hollow than usual, highlighting his cheekbones in an ill manner. Even his brown eyes that were usually light in colour seemed darker, murky.

           “Aang, you look unwell-”

           “Guess that makes two of us.” Aang laughed under his breath, letting the back of his hand fall over my forehead. His soft skin brushed against mine, sweeping aside whatever baby hairs decided to escape from my current updo. The coolness from his body had me sighing in relief. How an ice bath seems far too tempting at the moment.

           Aang glowered, pulling his hand back, and I couldn’t help but gripe under my breath – my five second-cooling pad gone. “Let’s go see Katara about this fever. You’re burning up; this isn’t good...” Aang started, and I shook my head.

           “Don’t worry, Aang, she’s with Zuko and I-and I have things I have to do,” I spoke, voice unsteady as I tried to sound put-together. Instinctively, I sharpened up shoulders, chin up, trying to appear presentable—the same go-to movements I often did with the other royals and councilmembers.

           Yet the moment I breathed in deeply, back straight, I couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling of feeling stupid. Standing here with Aang, forcing myself to seem normal, happy, okay, had my whole act in shambles. Because while I was able to put on the perfect façade with everyone, Aang was family.

           The way his shoulders dropped, eyes rounded, and arms ready to embrace – he already knew that I was in so much emotional and physical pain. Every day was a struggle to get out of bed, to eat, to work. I bit my lip, letting my fingers dance with the card Kiyi left behind. I can’t do this.

           I rose it, extending it towards him, “H-here, please give this to Zuko.”

           Aang’s eyes widen, lightly pushing the card back towards my chest. “Kiyi asked you to do this, Yue.” Aang reasoned, shaking his head, and I swallowed dryly.

           He doesn’t get it.

           “I-I can’t, Aang-” I inhaled, and Aang blew, “How long are you going to go not seeing Zuko, Yue. He needs you-”

           “I’m busy-” I struggled, and Aang scoffed, his palms falling over my arms.

           He ran his hands up and down, trying his best to comfort me despite the busybodies swimming by us. And for a split moment, I found myself slowly starting to ease in the act, before Aang spoke once more.

           It was like the room around us disappeared, the people, the noise, everything gone. My vision tunnelled on the way Aang moved his lips, ears listening to his usually airy voice utter the heaviest, heart-wrenching truth.

           “It’s been a week, Yue. A whole week, and you’ve never visited him once.”

           I swore, realizing I caused a dent in the corner of the delicate card from my shuddering hands, hearing Aang’s blunt revelation. A-a whole week?

           A whole week I went without seeing Zuko, and the sense of overwhelming dread weighed down my shoulders, stressed to process the information. I swallowed back a sob, cradling the card to my chest as the space around me felt like it was enclosing, the air too thick to breathe, burning my throat-

           “Yue, watch out-” Aang exclaimed.

           A maid bumped her shoulder against mine abruptly, causing me to wobble in my spot.

           The room spun, Aang’s arm reaching forward, grasping my elbow securely as a means to steady my dazzled state. The maid’s eyes widening in shock as she took note at the way my feet tumbled over each other for a moment, Aang desperately trying to help me find my state of balance.

           “My apologies, Imperial Consort Ying Yue, I was not watching where I was going- Imperial Consort Ying Yue? Are-are you alright?” The lady asked, her brows pinching together as she thoughtfully inched forward. It was then I realized how frazzled I undoubtedly looked.

           My whole body squeezed inwardly, clenching onto the card Kiyi gave me to my chest for dear life. I gulped, nodding my head nervously, “I-I’m fine, please, don’t apologize. I was lost in my thoughts; it’s my fault. I have to go now.” I exclaimed, forcing a smile on my face to the maid as she worriedly nodded and carefully bid her farewell.

           Aang’s grasp on my elbow stiffened, shifting my gaze back to him as she left, “Yue, you need to see Zuko eventually. You promised Kiyi.”

           “I will, just not now.” I wheezed, and the frown on Aang’s face grew, “You’ve been saying that all week.”

           “Because I’m busy, I made a vow-”

           “Work can wait, Yue. You shouldn’t even be working; you’re exhausted. Have you seen yourself?” Aang puffed, shaking his head in frustration as his fingers unknowingly dug deeper into my arm. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, you have a fever, you look sick. I’m worried-” Aang tried to reason, and I grimaced at his words.

           I knew how terrible I looked.

           Every night I tossed and turned in bed. No number of blankets, no number of pillows, not even sleeping in Zuko’s old T-shirts, seemed to do the trick. And those rare moments, where I did manage to close my eyes, were only filled with nightmares. Vivid images of the pained expression on Zuko’s face, him struggling to breathe, the way he looked at me.

           He hates me-

           A shaky exhale left me, “A-Aang, I can’t see Zuko-”

           “Stop punishing yourself, Yue.” Aang snapped, his voice sharp.

           The people around us all stilled for a moment, undoubtedly hearing Aang raise his voice, a tone I have only listened to a handful of times. They stared at us, looks of confusion and alarm stamped on their faces before they cautiously treaded around us, dashing through the infirmary doors, or down the hallway.

           Aang’s face was pink, the grip on my arm constricting as he blew stridently. It was like the emotional turmoil inside the both of us snapped, lashing out towards each other with no real reason. The weight of the whole week, the stress of running around, was eating us all alive.

           I ripped my arm from his grip with a cry, taking a step back as my bottom lip quivered. “You don’t understand, Aang.” I gulped, head shaking as I took another weak step backwards. The way my body trembled, thankful I didn’t trip over my feet.

           It was like all the pain and confusion was evident in my face, Aang’s expression softened, realizing how his temper flared for that split moment. Rubbing his face in defeat, he sighed heavily.

           “Then talk to me, Yue.” Aang pleaded as his voice strained with need, “Zuko needs you so much right now, you’re the only person he’s ever opened to like this. He loves you more than anything else in the world-”

           My breathing hitched, body stilling at Aang’s words. Memories of Mai and I’s interaction a week ago entering my mind-

‘Zuko would never love a monster like yourself. Not after everything you’ve done.’

‘All this drama happened because of you.’

‘If anyone gets hurt, it’s all your fault.’

           My lips parted, a wheezy gasp leaving me as I struggled to talk – as if someone kicked me in the gut. “I need to go-” I said, eyes unable to focus onto Aang, everything around me turning into one giant blur.

           “Yue-”

           “I need to go; I have work I need to do,” I spoke harshly, face impassive as I dodged his reach. Aang’s soft pleas, desperately trying to grab hold of me, the sleeves of my dress slipping through his fingers like water as I twisted on my heel.

           Scurrying through the people in the hallway, hand clasping over the card Kiyi had drawn, my teeth dug into my lips, the taste of iron filling my senses. I need to go; I need to go-

           But…

           I don’t want to go.

             I let out a tired sulk, staring down at the black ink that stained the document before me. My signature looked like a two-year-old drew it, lines shaky and blotchy. What’s wrong with me? It’s like I forgot how to write, the ink practically pooling at the bottom of the page.

           It seemed like instead of spilling the ink all over the desk, like I’ve been doing this past week, I decided to pool it at the bottom of each document I’ve signed. Each paper that I touched with the tip of my golden pen, sporting its own artistic touch of ‘blotches.’ Every hour, the specks and chaos were getting worse.

           Maybe I could play it off as some modern artistic signature style?

           I snorted at my foolishness; shoulders slouched as I hesitantly rose the heavy pen in my hand back towards the paper. My eyes wearily scanned the document, trying to think of any possible way to save the work.

           At this point, anything would do.

           One paper, I just needed one article this evening to have a pretty signature. That’s it. Cautiously, I inched the pen towards my scribbles, biting my lip as I held my breath. And just like that, I swore.

           The sound of wet paper ripping as the golden tip stabbed through, the paper giving way to the sheer volume of ink and pressure. A loud whine escaped me, pen slipping from my grasp as I let my body fall against the desk, head thumping against the wood. Why can’t anything go right for once?

           Papers flew into the air, cascading downwards like fluttering butterflies, falling onto the floor. The unrelenting throbbing of my head grew tenfold. Either from banging it against this wooden desk or the utter frustration that coursed through my veins – my bet is both.

           My hands spread wide, flush with the study, nails digging and scratching at the surface.

           “Get it together, Yue. You’re not going to cry over a damn signature.” I blubbered, lip rolling between my teeth, forcing my eyes shut to prevent that stupid tear from rolling down my cheek. The taste of old blood still lingering on my lip from biting it roughly earlier on in the day with Aang.

           I whipped my head back, sitting upright, forcing my eyes open.

           “Don’t you dare cry.” I hissed to myself, as my chest tightened.

           The room was deathly quiet, only the dim lights from the candles spread about lighting the area. Eerie shadows from the décor scattered throughout the room had a restlessness settling in my stomach, the air stuffy. Every creak of the wooden floors, the flicker of light felt like a spirit hiding in the shadows, ready to lunge and attack.

           The room didn’t feel like home.

           I didn’t get the butterflies when I sat in this chair, skin warm and giggling non-stop.

           Nothing felt like home anymore.

           Because Zuko was home, dummy.

           “D-don’t cry,” I repeated like a mantra, blinking rapidly to stop the tears that so desperately wanted to fall. “It’s a signature, j-just a signature. Who cares?” I reasoned loudly, undoubtedly the guards on the other side questioning my sanity. But the more I spoke, the further my voice cracked, my emotions and logic fighting fiercely against one another.

           Helplessly my gaze wandered about the room, trying to distract myself, anything to push the too real of emotions away. I could hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears, every single thing my eyes settled upon evoking another, stronger emotion.

           The simple door at the other end of the room had me recalling those times I would sneak in here to surprise Zuko during work. The way his face would light up, more often than not, sighing in relief and beckoning me to his side. ‘Just who I needed, my baby’ Zuko would often coo, his hands brushing back my hair, tangling themselves.

           Or what about this desk?

           The number of times I sat on this thing, Zuko and I teasing each other, bantering about nonsense. ‘You’re so needy, love. Always needing hugs and kisses,’ Zuko would complain, only to pull me close. Fitting perfectly between his legs as he planted chaste kisses over my head, whispering sweet nothings.

           I sniffled, nose runny as my eyes fluttered shut.

           ‘Mmm, my one and only, baby’ I could vividly recall Zuko droning into my ear just last week, arms wrapping around my waist, fingers dancing over my skin. His warmth, his touches, his kisses.

           Zuko loved me in those moments, he really did, and I ruined it all.

           “Why now? Of all the times, why do I have to remember this now?” I whimpered under my breath, pain radiating up my nails as I burrowed into the wood beneath me. For days upon days, I drowned myself in work—anything to keep my mind off Zuko, avoiding the Gaang like the plague.

           This wasn’t about the stupid signature, gosh, it was so much more.

           My thoughts ran wild, switching between the happy moments Zuko and I shared, to the look of absolute horror once he realized what I was. But the cherry on top, the gut-twisting moment that had a small cry leaving my lips was Mai’s words that faithful day.

           The way Mai’s eyes looked down from above, an expression filled with sadness and pain etched into her very soul. Her tough shell crumbled for that tiny instant; her winded whisper engraved into my mind.

           ‘Remember, Yue. If you really love Zuko – want the best for him. You know what to do.’

           “B-but I don’t want to go.” I weakly snivelled, confessing that very thing I was trying to ignore. The festering and unavoidable topic at hand, the decision that kept me up at night, the reason why I couldn’t look at Ursa or Noren in the eye. I want to stay here, by Zuko’s side. I can’t hurt him like that, leave him after everything he’s been through-

           But this isn’t about you; a dark voice echoed into my mind; this is for Zuko, his safety.

           But he’s home-

           He doesn’t love you, you’re a monster, forever and always.

           My eyes snapped open once more, vision blurry as tears build up, freely falling down my face. “I’m losing home.” I sniffled, heart aching as I tried my hardest to swallow down my sobs. I didn’t want the guards who stood on the other side of that door to hear me, to feel burdened by my distress.

           Now is not the time to make others worry.

           I just need to continue ruling the Kingdom until Zuko gets better and then-

           Weakly, I wiped the tears from my eyes, taking deep lungsful as a means to control my emotions. My cheeks hurt from the crying, nose a bright red, no doubt, as I wiped the final tear from my eyes. I don’t even want to know how I look like at the moment.

           My vision cleared, a shaky breath leaving me, as I sat straight. Another hour of work and then you can try to sleep this all off. I wiggled my way into Zuko’s chair, trying to find a comfy spot to zone out my thoughts and fix my terrible signatures, only to freeze.

           There, at the very edge of my desk, stood that perfect red card.

           The bright yellow sun smiling at me, Kiyi’s adorable cursive scribbled on the front.

           “Get better, Zuzu,” I whispered, a small smile emerging on my face as the words flew from my lips.

           Memories of Kiyi’s, bouncing from joy in her spot as she said she loved me, that I was the best big sister. Hands shaking, I found them stretching before me without thinking. Leaning forward and pressing myself against the desk, my fingertips grazed the edge of the card, drawing it closer.

           I couldn’t help but caress the soft paper, feeling where the paint stuck, the paper slightly wrinkled. With much care, I brought it close to my face, eagerly musing over every paint stroke, every sparkle, the love etched into this simple card.

           It was funny how the little things in life take up the most space in your heart.

           How a simple card caused the warm fuzzy feelings, the feelings I haven’t felt in almost a week, to appear. The dashing butterflies in my stomach, cheeks glowing in glee, the emotions and reactions that would often appear whenever I was with Zuko. A fleeting moment of complete and utter bliss, happiness.

           I want to see Zu-

           A knock on the door stripped me from my thoughts, jumping in my seat.

           The way my eyes bugged out, staring at the door with my jaw dropped, not at all anticipating such a powerful knock, let alone at this moment. My head snapped side to side, hastily taking note of the mess spread around.

           “Umm, o-one minute, please!” I shouted, mortified beyond belief.

           My hand grabbed the papers that were within reach, almost throwing myself over the table as I greedily swiped all the blotched documents towards me. Shit-shit-shit, where am I going to put all this? And that’s when I spotted the small white bin that stood at my feet, and without thinking twice, I tossed all the papers inside.

           I’ll take care of this mess after.

           “C-come in!” I awkwardly muttered, sniffling as I stared forward.

           A moment of silence fell over me before the front door flew open with a bang. My head tilted to the side, watching with interest as a short man dashed inside. His black clothing made him look like a shadow, making his way towards me as if he’s been inside here countless of times, knowing the room like the back of his hand.

           The door swayed close behind him, the man's hands raised as he adjusted the thick red scarf wrapped around his shoulders and neck. “Fire Lord Zuko.” The man huffed, pulling the veil down his face, exposing his sharp nose, “I have news about Ax-”

           His dark cat-like eyes lined up with mine, his thin pink lips forming an ‘O’ shape as he froze in his spot. We stared at each other, looks of confusion and amusement flashing between us, neither one of us knowing who we were in relation.

           I found my gaze falling over the man’s features, taking note of the faint wrinkles that appeared on his face, his skin tanned. As if he realized that I was studying him intently, curious as to who he was, a faint flush coated his cheeks.

           “Y-you’re not Fire Lord Zuko.” The man buzzed, his tone low and taut.

           I let out a breathless giggle, entertained by the expression on his face.

           He looked utterly taken off guard, stunned, like a confused child. And seeing such an expression on a man who was currently dressed in a skin tight-suit, weapons undoubtedly concealed underneath was such a contrast. I found myself easing in my seat, something in me telling me he wasn’t a threat, despite his harsh facial structures and odd clothing.

           I saw the way he eagerly studied my sitting figure, and like something clicked he quickly bowed, “You must be- Imperial Consort Ying Yue, my sincere apologies-”

           “Please, it’s okay.” I quickly retorted, standing up from the chair as I waved away the formalities. My eyes scanned his face once again, trying desperately to place a name. He seems unfamiliar, I’ve never met this man before, have I?

           “Is there something you need? Fire Lord Zuko is not available at the moment, but I can do whatever I can.” I started, and the man merely shook his head, hand scratching his head. “Unfortunately, I need to speak with Fire Lord Zuko, directly. Do you know where I could find him?”

           My lips parted, a sad smile forming on my face, as I eased my way around the chair, walking around the desk. He doesn’t know- Even the man in front seemed to notice the way my body altered, a sudden heaviness in my step. I let my hand slide down my lap, fixing any wrinkles that may have appeared.

           “Fire Lord Zuko is ill at the moment; I’m temporarily stepping into his role. But if there’s anything I can do-”

           “He’s ill?” The man exclaimed, and I puckered, nodding my head.

           “This whole week…” I spoke, and the man clicked his tongue, running his hands through his hair. He did not want to hear that. He began to grumble under his breath, mumbling incoherent, but I could sense the frustration from him.

           I couldn’t help it, watching over him, feet moving on their own, inching closer towards him: the sharp eyes, sun-kissed skin. Just who is he?

           “My apologies, but who are you, may I ask?”

           He looked taken aback by the question, before chuckling bashfully under his breath. “I promise I do have better manners than this, Imperial Consort.” He droned, shaking his head in shame before giving me a broad smile.

           “I go by Mihir; I’m an informant, I work directly under Fire Lord Zuko’s authority.” He started, and the moment his name left his lips, my eyes widen.

           The beach house.

           I stepped forward, a pout on my face as I pointed a finger, “It’s you. The man who kept calling Zuko when we were on vacation- you kept stealing Zuko from me!”

           He looked taken aback, raising his hands in front of him as he shook, hearing the high pitch in my voice as I squealed. “S-sorry, Imperial Consort. I didn’t mean to bother you during your vacation-” he stumbled, and I huffed under my breath.

           “It’s fine, knowing Zuko, he made you work. That man doesn’t understand how to relax.” Gosh, if Zuko knew I stuffed the bin to the brim with paperwork, he would’ve killed me.‘Hiding paperwork doesn’t make the work go away, love’ I could already imagine Zuko grumbling, hearing his voice vividly in my mind. I smiled to myself despite the annoyance.

           Zuko would pinch his nose, and then complain about how the papers are all wrinkled-

           “You know Fire Lord Zuko well.” Mihir chuckled under his breath, a blush creeping onto my cheeks as I realized I zoned out for a moment. I timidly brushed whatever hairs fell from my ponytail, biting my lip as I looked down at the floor.

           “I admire his work ethic, even though it drives me nuts sometimes. There isn’t a day where he isn’t doing something, improving himself or helping others. I-I always adored that.” I rambled, mentally slapping myself. Why is it that, whenever Zuko is brought to topic, I find myself blurting another thing I adore about him?

           Mihir mused at my words, crossing his arms, “Fire Lord Zuko…he talks about you…a lot.”  My gaze snapped upwards to meet Mihir’s, a gentle smile on his face.

           He didn’t seem like a man who smiled often, but it suited him. Even though every expression of Mihir’s had this stoutness to it, I couldn’t help but notice the softness in this man’s soul. I think I know why Zuko trusts him.

           “I guess I’ll come back tomorrow. Hopefully, Fire Lord Zuko feels better and can arrange a moment with me. I’ll leave so you can go see him now, give him my regards.” Mihir spoke, and my head tilted, raising a brow.

           “What makes you think I’m seeing him now?” I blurted, confusion written on my face. Mihir chuckled, raising his scarf over his face, “Because you’re holding that ‘get better Zuzu’ card.”

           His cat-like eyes were the only visible part of his body, stepping back as he placed his hand over his chest, “And based on the way you’re holding it, tight and close to your heart, shows me it’s important. That you care and worry about Fire Lord Zuko, maybe even more than you realize.”

           He bowed from his waist down before opening the study door, just a crack – slipping through like the wind. It softly shut behind him, leaving me alone in the middle of the room. My mouth dropped, looking down at my hands to realize Mihir was right.

           This whole time…I-I was holding the card.

           The sun smiled back at me, and I couldn’t help but smile again, no longer experiencing that mocking feeling like I was earlier in the day. “A promise is a promise…” I whispered, and I twirled on my feet, walking towards the candles that littered the room.

           My lips puckered, blowing out each one, dashing. The way I spoke to Aang, the promise I made to Kiyi- I don’t want my time here to end like this, on such a sour note.

           I want to see Zuko – one last time.

             Thumbs twirling, a large pout settled as I waltzed down the red hall, the infirmary just around the corner.

           My dress rustled as I walked, the clicking sound of my heels, bouncing off the walls of the almost wholly deserted Kingdom. One or two servants would come down ever so often, smiling sweetly before continuing on their way. They all bore tired expressions, ready to go home for the night, until tomorrow.

           I pressed the card Kiyi made close to my chest, hands shaking slightly.

           The moon was high in the night sky, admiring the reflection it drew on the water in the pond. Despite the distance, I could spot the faint ripples, turtle ducks calmly floating below the waterfall, enjoying the chill air the Fire Nation had to offer.

           Another puff left me, lost in my thoughts as I continued on my walk, eyes settling upon the flower petals that fell from the trees. To think that just hours ago, I was under a tree, the hot air and beaming sun radiating upon my skin. Now an odd sense of peace filled the air, the children's laughter, the women’s gossip just remnants of time.

           One more walk in the gardens with Zuko.

           I would’ve loved that.

           The warmth of Zuko’s hands in mine, his fingers rubbing the skin between my thumb and pointer, humming our soft tune. Or maybe us playing in the water with Kiyi once again, Iroh and Ursa laughing in the background, shaking their heads in amusement.

           “Yue?” A voice breathed, so light, quieter than a whisper, that for a moment, I thought I imagined it. My brows pinched together, raising my hand to my head as my pace flattered. Did I- am I so tired I’m hearing things right now?

           I shook my head, scoffing to myself.

           My eyes burned, throat rough as I swallowed hard. The events of the day had my hands cramped and body aching. “Get it together, Yue,” I grumbled under my breath, forcing my feet to move. I let my hand drop from my forehead, resting it along the palace walls – pivoting to turn the corner before I stopped abruptly in my tracks.

           “Yue.” The voice spoke again, this time louder, more forceful.

           This isn’t my imagination; the voice is coming from behind me. I twirled in my spot, a small gasp escaping me as I soaked up what I saw. The stunning mix of yellow and blue, a large wooden stick in hand-

           “Aang.” I breathed, reviewing his figure up and down.

           He stood there, posture hunched, and unlike this morning, where he seemed tired but overall refreshed, now he looked utterly drained. The way his eyes sulked and the grip he held over his staff, loose. Dangling from the tips of fingers as he stared back at me, his pupils wide. Is he just coming back from work? At this hour of the night?

           “Aang, you’re just going to bed now?” I announced, unable to hide the worry in my tone.  Aang awkwardly scratched his head, laughing under his breath while nodding slowly, “Mhm, I had some paperwork I had to review for Republic City.”

           “This late?” I questioned; my hands firmly pressed over my chest.

           Aang opened his mouth before shutting it, the corner of his lips tugging upwards as he coolly leaned on his staff. “What about you, Yue?” Aang started, wiggling his eyebrows, nudging his head to the side as if to emphasize the fact that the moon was high in the sky.

           “It seems like someone else is just going to bed.”

           I bite my lip, shaking my head, “I’m not going to bed just yet…”

           Aang glowered at my words, pushing off the staff that he was just resting on, back straightening. “Where are you going, Yue?” Aang voiced, “It’s late; you should be resting-”

           “I'm going to see Zuko.”

           The air between us stilled, hearing him take in a sharp inhale, stilling in his spot.      

           His mouth agape, gawking as he let the words, I uttered, seep in. Expressions of astonishment and disbelief flashed by his face, unsure which emotion to settle upon. I couldn’t fault him for feeling as shocked as he was. For a whole week, I refused to see Zuko, no matter how often they begged and asked. But I can’t say no anymore; I want to see him so bad, be greedy and selfish and see him-

           Reservedly, I shifted my hands from my chest, presenting the get-better card Kiyi gave me earlier in the day to him. It was like the card jerked Aang from the conflicting emotions that tumbled inside him, seeing his sandaled feet moving forward.

           “Yue, if you’re not ready to see him, you don’t have to.” Aang concerned, brows pinching together as he anxiously stepped forward. “I can give the card, right now-”

           “Aang, I’m sorry for pushing you and the Gaang away.” I snivelled.

           The trembling in my hands grew, teeth digging deep into my swollen lips as I drove the card further into my chest. My nails pulled at the silky fabric of my dress, fighting back the tears of remorse.

           The way I treated Aang earlier was sad, but it wasn’t just today. It was ever since Zuko fell ill. It was like I couldn’t look at anyone in the eye, not even Sokka or Katara, without feeling guilty. Overwhelming shame and burden, despite them not holding what happened to Zuko against me.

           But I was also lying to them, not telling them the truth of what happened that terrible day, the extent of my bending.

           “I was so mean to you, and I’m sorry.”

           “Yue-” Aang sniffled, and I felt his arms wrap around my body, pulling me into a tight embrace.

           I let my head snuggle in between his neck and shoulder, chest rising and falling between my heavy breaths as Aang fussed into my ear. His lips pressed against my head, a smile dancing as he held me close. A whole week I went without a single hug from anyone, without any form of affection. I was forcing myself into complete isolation beside any business meetings.

           To have someone hold me close made me realize how lonely I felt. How much I wanted a hug – to be held.

           “I’m sorry too. I should’ve have lost my temper like that. I just-” Aang started, pulling away slightly, our gazes meeting as we stood close. I saw how round his eyes were, cheeks a pleased flush as he spoke. “I can’t stand seeing you hurting yourself, Yue. Take all the blame and hurt when you deserve to be happy.”

           “I just want Zuko to be safe.” I sighed, raising my hand against my nose for the hundredth time today. Aang hummed knowingly, “Come on, I’ll walk you to the infirmary, and then I’ll let you be.”

           “A-actually, Aang…” I stuttered, cheeks turning rosy, “Can you come with me? I-I don’t want to do this alone.”

           The way Aang beamed as if I told him that Appa could, in fact, fit inside the Kingdom and sleep in the same room as Katara, him, and Momo. He let his hand rest over the small of my back, glowing ear to ear.

           “I would love to go with you, Yue.”

           I stepped back from his caring touches, taking a deep breath as I looked down at the card that sat in my hand. The red of the paper practically radiating under the dim candlelight of the Kingdom. The last thing I’ll ever do for Kiyi-

           “We should hurry,” Aang spoke sympathetically, “You look exhausted, but I know seeing Zuko is important for you, Yue.” I could feel the way he put light pressure on the tips of fingers, nudging me gently. Within seconds I found ourselves walking, Aang letting his staff twirl in his grip as he watched over me out of the corner of his brown eyes.

           With every step we took, the beating of my heart grew.

           Blood rushing, skin warm as goosebumps rose.

           Despite the chill air of the night, I was sweating, the sound of paper rattling between my grasp embarrassingly loud as we marched. The mental gymnastics that ran through my head, torn between running to Zuko’s side or hiding in the comforts of my blankets. I want to see Zuko so bad, but what if Mai is right? That he doesn’t love me anymore, and the last thing he wants is a visit from me.

           My lip rolled between my teeth, letting my gaze wander to our right as we turned the corner. For a split moment, I saw how the turtle ducks huddled together in the pond. The babies adorable squished together heads resting over each other, as their parents loomed over them. A family…

           “Don’t think for a second Zuko doesn’t want you there with him,” Aang spoke.

           I titled my head, snapping my gaze towards him.

           Aang continued walking ahead, the grand wooden doors before us a few steps away. People with crosses embordered on their sleeves, walking in and out of those doors. The air around them was calm, but I could tell a few of them looked surprised to see us this late in the night.

           “You really think…Zuko wants me there, Aang?” I whispered.

           I could hear Aang snort, giving me a side look filled with personality. “Yue, I didn’t want to say this…” He started, and by then, my head was spinning, realizing that right before us was the entrance.

           Aang’s hand rested over the door, look heavy as he slowly faced me, “Katara told me that sometimes Zuko whispers your name in his sleep.”

           My bottom lip quivered, hearing those words, Aang’s hand dragging along the wood. But he wasn’t finished, laughing lightly as he seemingly remembers the conversation between him and Katara. “Every time he says your name, he smiles. Katara said it was creepy seeing him that happy.”

           I couldn’t help but giggle, rubbing my eyes with the ends of my sleeves imaging it.

           From first-hand experience, I already knew that Zuko was prone to smiling during his sleep. Also, prone to holding me to close to his chest so that the slightest movement from me caused his arm to lock, holding me in place. And don’t forget about sniffing my hair, whispering ‘vanilla’ under his breath far too many times to count.

           Tugging on my sleeves, now stained with wet droplets, Aang glowed from above, “Now, Yue, you make do with that information as you will. But I think we both know what it means.”

           “Aang…” I breathed between my stuffy nose; voice soft.

           “Yes, Yue?”

           “I-I’m ready.”

           “Let’s go then, Princess.” Aang teased with a cheeky smile, pushing the door.

           The door creaked, the high pitch noise sounding louder than usual, given how quiet the palace hallways were at the time. Right away, the nurses who were busily working inside turned their heads towards our direction, shooting us enormous smiles. They waved excitedly, energy-filled in their actions.

           “A beautiful night, Imperial Consort,” they happily sang, before going back to work.

           I pressed a smile to my face, whispering my soft greetings as I pressed the card closer to my chest. I couldn’t help but notice how clammy my palms were, if it weren’t for Aang’s guidance, I would’ve undoubtedly froze in place at the door.

           My eyes scanned the area, the chandlers lighting up the large room, the grand windows opened, and curtains pushed back to allow the calming breeze from outside to enter. Fresh flowers and bright paintings decorated the space as a means to keep the atmosphere up and going. And the further I walked, taking in every detail, down to the colours of the candles, I couldn’t help but wonder.

           Was this how Zuko felt that time when I was in here?

           Just as nervous, anxious, to see me after the waterfall incident? I could recall how flustered Zuko appeared. A look of exhaustion washing over him as he stood before me. The way he rushed to my side, cupping my face before placing a kiss of pure desperation over my lips- my cheeks flushed.

           Why would I think of something like that right now?

           Aang’s hand fell over my back once more, rubbing gently as I jumped in my spot.

           “He’s over there, behind that curtain, where the guards are,” Aang spoke, nudging me where he pointed with his chin. As if they heard, the guards carefully lifted their helmets, bowing slightly with warm smiles before moving off to the side. Their helmets fell back over their faces, quietly discussing amongst themselves, giving us space and privacy.

           My knees were wobbling; every step I took felt like rocks were tied to the soles of my feet, the ground sand as I struggled to move. The reality of the whole situation hitting me all at once. You’re fine, Yue.

           This is fine, you’re fine-

           The curtain that isolated Zuko from the rest was now right before me. A dark velvety red fabric, dragons imprinted all over. The point at which the curtains met swayed lightly with the incoming breeze, and I could feel my breath catching when I spotted the end of a metal bed through the momentary crack.

           He’s right here, right behind this curtain-

           My hand reached naturally, fingertips feeling the soft fabric slip in between each digit. It was like everything was moving in slow motion, the overwhelming need, want, to see Zuko.  I missed him so much.

           I need him; I want to see him-

           Hastily, I drew the draping back, the curtain swaying dramatically with my movement. I clenched the card tightly to my chest, eyes rapidly scanning the space, and just like that, my arm limply dropped to my side. My shoulders slumped, body shuddering, hand falling over my mouth as an uncontrollable sob erupted from me.

           “Yue?” Aang worried from behind me, his hands squeezing over me with care.

           It was at that moment I realized I wasn’t moving, too busy studying over the handsome sleeping figure before me – Zuko.

           His long black hair was neatly brushed and scattered over the scarlet pillow he rested upon, hands over his heart as his chest rose and fell with every breath. The way the moonlight shined through the large windows behind him, painting his skin with a heavenly aura – almost spirit-like.

           Those pink lips of his that I adored were parted, loveable sighs leaving him as his head slightly leaned to the side. It was like last week never happened, his expression so peaceful, sleeping without a worry in the world. The red blanket that laid over his body stopped short of his chest, his milky skin bare.

           Zuko- he looked healthy.

           Part of me imagined Zuko’s appearance to have withered slightly. His face to have sunken, cheekbones prominent, and his physique smaller. How wrong was I. Zuko looked like he gained weight – shoulders broader than usual, the divots on his arms from where his muscles lined abnormally defined. He was even freshly shaven, skin clear and dewy.

           Small breathless giggles left me, unable to contain the relief of seeing Zuko looking nothing short of perfect.  “Yue-” Aang voiced once again, and this time I turned on my heel to look at him.

           “He’s okay.” I cried, and Aang’s expression softened the moment he realized why I was crying.

           I wasn’t shedding tears because I was upset but relieved.

           Zuko looked so healthy, completely untouched, as I wiped my nose messily on my sleeve. “K-Katara took such good care of him; I owe her so much. I-I couldn’t have healed him as well as her if it weren’t for you and the Gaang being there for him-”

           Aang’s hand brushed my face, cleaning my cheeks to the best of his ability as I let my tears flow. “I told you, Yue. We’re family. We love Zuko too. If you think Katara was going to let her best friend fall ill because some bad guys wanted to hurt you, you doubt our bonds.”

           I smiled, choking as I sniffled, turning my head back to Zuko. He looked so happy, “T-thank you. For everything. For coming with me.”

           “I’ll always be here, Yue. Now give him that card. He may be knocked out cold, but I’m sure he’ll be happy to see it when he wakes up.” Aang happily blubbered, standing at the far corner as I carefully made my way around the bed.

           I couldn’t pull my gaze away from Zuko, watching him as he slept, it felt like my heart was going to burst. Was it creepy to stare at Zuko this excitedly while he slept? Probably, but I couldn’t stop myself. I missed him so much.

           Carefully I rose the card, lips moving silently as I cumbersomely. “Katara told me that he could most likely hear us, Yue…I bet he would love to hear your voice.”

           My voice…?

           “Z-Zuko.” I shakily started, carefully placing the beautiful handcrafted card on the wooden table that stood right beside him. A few vials and bowls of water with towels laid there – tools for Katara whenever she was healing or checking up on Zuko quickly at her aid. If it weren’t for Katara’s Waterbending skills, who knows what would’ve happened to Zuko.

           “Zuko.” I breathed once again, smiling softly as I inched my way closer to Zuko’s bedside.

           I watched as Zuko’s eyes moved under his shut eyelids at the sound of my voice so close to his body, a deep sigh, leaving him for a moment as he continued sleeping. My hand outstretched over his, hovering, fighting the temptation to feel his skin against mine.

           “K-Kiyi made a card for you; she misses you….” I whispered, and I saw the way Zuko’s expression changed the more I talked. His brows pinched together slightly as his head tossing towards me side, another long exhale leaving him. It was like in his sleep he was searching for my voice, his fingers tightening its hold on the blankets that laid over him.

           I weakly smiled, and without thinking, my hand rested of his.

           “I miss you,” I whispered, tears falling down my face as I anxiously held my breath.

           The greed took over, my fingers dance over his soft skin, basking in the warmth. It was like a current ran through me the moment our hands touched, the sense of familiarity and happiness bursting at the seams.

           “I miss you so much. I miss your hugs and cuddles and smiles, and-” I had to stop talking, struggling as my words rushed. My digits laced with his, my skin tingling, butterflies in my stomach from being so close to Zuko after so long.

           “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me, I’m sorry for not telling you the truth. I’m sorry I didn’t do more.” I cried as I let my other hand wander, trailing up his chest to his neck. I winced, feeling the rough patch of skin nestled at the base of his neck. There was a small scar now, a darkened patch of skin from where I sliced.

           Forever a reminder, and I swear I could feel the scar that rested along my jaw tingle.

           “I promised myself that I would never hurt you…” I whimpered, leaning over his bed, unable to stop the temptation to get closer. My hands cupped his face, thumbs caressing his pouting lips. “I promised Iroh, your mom, Kiyi, everyone that I would take care of you. I made that vow to myself the moment I met you.”

           My eyes fluttered shut, face rosy, all self-restraint gone.

           Leaning over his body, hair falling over our faces as my lips gently brushed over his. The feeling of his soft, plump lips pressed against my swollen ones, tears tumbling over his skin.

           “I hope you find someone who can keep that vow better than me, Zuko. Who will love you more than I ever could. Who will bring out that stunning twinkle in your eyes. I want you to be happy Zuko…”

           “Yue.” I heard Aang cry, and I carefully pulled back, noticing the way my salty tears dripped down Zuko’s cheek, tainting the stark burn on his face.

           “One last kiss.” I dejectedly cried, taking a step back, my fingertips grazing his skin before leaving. The moment my touch left him, I could feel my heart ache, hands cupping my mouth as I tried my toughest to shush my tears.

           “What do you mean by one last kiss, Yue?” Aang worriedly questioned, stepping closer to my trembling figure.

           It’s time I come clean.

           “I-I never you, what Mai said to me.” I sobbed, and I could feel Aang’s arms wrap around me, holding me close to his chest as his hands ran up and down my back. He cradled my face into his neck, shaking his head at my words, “What did she tell you, Yue?”

           “S-she said that the reason Zuko got hurt is because of me.” I started, spluttering harder as my sight became filled with nothing more but tears. “I-if I leave, t-then Zuko will be safe. No harm will be done.”

           “Yue, you can’t believe her, she could be lying for all we know-”

           “But what if she isn’t, Aang?” I huffed, pulling away to stare at him.

           Tears swelled in Aang’s eyes, wiping his face with the back of his hand heatedly as he looked down at me. “Maybe she is lying, Aang. But I prefer to take the risk, then have Zuko get hurt again because of me.”

           “I-if you leave, Yue.” Aang broke, his voice cracking as the grip on my body tightened. “Zuko would look under every damn rock for you. Go to the ends of the world looking for you. You think he’s going to let you go, Yue? Walk out of his life after how much you’ve changed him?” Aang argued expression hurt as he took in a shaky breath.

           “Zuko loves you so much. I shouldn’t even tell you this, but Zuko is already thinking of a hundred and one ways to propose! He told me that he wants kids, he wants a family, asking me what good diapers- damnit Yue!” Aang huffed, pulling me back into a tight embrace as we cried silently together.

           “This whole week, you’ve pushed us away, carried the burden of that knowledge. You wanted to see Zuko today, not because you stopped blaming yourself, but because you wanted to say goodbye.”

           “I don’t want to go, Aang, but I don’t want Zuko to hurt anymore.”

           “You’re going to hurt him by leaving.”

           “But, I’ll be hurting him more if I stay.”

           I pulled away slightly, looking to my side to watch as Zuko laid in bed. The tranquil expression on his face at the moment, I couldn’t have wished for a better lasting appearance to see. Every memory we shared, forever locked in my heart for years to come, because no one can steal those recollections away from me.

           “I thought Zuko was the one, Yue,” Aang whispered into my ear, and I rubbed my nose, smiling to myself. “Zuko is the one for me, always will be. But I’m not the one for him. I don’t think I ever was…”

           “So, is this it? Are you just going to leave us? Me, Katara, Sokka, Hakoda-”

           I winced, shutting my eyes as I shook my head, “I’ll leave as soon as Zuko wakes up. I made a promise that I’ll take care of the kingdom for him, and I want to keep at least one promise.”

           “Where will you go, Yue? I-we-but-” Aang raged internally, stepping back before running his hands over his hand. His fingers pressed against the skin of the blue arrow along his head, expression panicked. I could tell from the look in his eyes that his mind was swirling, unable to focus.

           Carefully, I stepped towards Zuko, grabbing the blanket that laid over him, and lifting it. I tucked the warm fabric, snuggling under his chin, a bittersweet smile painting my face as I took in Zuko’s features one last time. “I love you, Zuko, I can’t even begin to express my feelings. There aren’t enough letters in the alphabet to string together a word strong enough to tell you how much I love you.”

           I pulled away, letting my hands clasp together, nails causing crescents into my palms as I swallowed back the next wave of weeping. “And I want you to know, Zuko, that no matter how much you hate me, are angry at me, I’ll still love you. That will never change.”

           Turning on my heel, I faced Aang, whose face was swollen, nose a bright red as he weakly grabbed the staff he let rest on the wall.

           “I-I think it’s time I go to bed now…” I quietly spoke, and Aang nodded, using the tip of his stick to pull back the curtains to lead to the outside world. But he didn’t move right away, his eyes locked with mine.

           “Aang?” I asked, and he sighed, forcing a smile on his face.

           “I can’t stop you from leaving, Yue. This is your choice, your journey. But I hope you know that while everyone may be nervous once they learn about your bending, you’re still you. You’re still Sokka and Katara’s sister, Toph’s drinking partner, Suki’s shopping pal, and my best friend.”

           “Thank you, Aang.”

           “I’ll take you to your room, and I hope tomorrow, by some miracle, you realize that Zuko will love you, regardless of how you view yourself. And that you have every right to stay here with Zuko, and have the family you always dreamed of.”

           I could feel my heart swell, Aang outstretching his hand towards me, a poignant smile on his face. Right away, I grabbed his cold hand, our fingers intertwining, letting ourselves relish in the bittersweet moment. His hand squeezed tightly, before beginning to move, and I looked over my shoulder quickly.

           “Goodbye, Zuko.” I hummed, taking in the finest of details as if I didn’t already know each and every mark on his skin—the shape of his nose and lips, even his ears. But my eyes narrowed, only noticing too late the fresh tear running down Zuko’s cheek.

           A tear that was undoubtedly not present a moment ago.

           My feet stuttered, and as I eagerly tilted my head to get a better look, to make sure it was not my eyes playing tricks, but it was too late. The thick curtain shut, red flooding my vision. This is really it; I said my goodbye.

           Without any of other words spoken between Aang and me, we walked side by side, our hands swinging as Aang silently guided me to my room. The nurses and guards all said their share of goodnights, not daring to ask as to why our cheeks were as red as could be, our voices coarse and eyes puffy.

           Tiredly, we inched our way down the hallway, rubbing my face as I took in every nuisance of the kingdom. How many more days do I have left, walking down this hallway before I go? Soon the I won’t ever hear the clicking of my heels when I stroll in the mornings or the happy greetings of the servants.

           We turned the corner, my eyes lighting up as I spotted two guards at the front of my bedroom—two people who I knew far too well at this point. I turned to face Aang, our eyes meeting. An unspoken connection hitting us both as Aang drew me in for one last hug.

           “Goodnight, Yue. And how I hope, more than anything, I see you in the morning.” He wished before pulling away. We shared one last look before he begrudgingly turned on his heel. His yellow robes flowed behind him as he let his staff dance in his grip, eagerly walking towards the waiting arms of his dearest lover. Bringing my arms up to my chest, I hugged myself.

           Thank you.

           “Imperial Consort Ying Yue?” two voices spoke, causing me to twirl.

           With their helmets now off, I couldn’t hide the short moment of happiness seeing them this late at night. It really is them- “Ah, hello, friends~!” I sung, waving with a small yawn as I inched my way towards them.

           They smiled back, but I couldn’t help but notice how forced their smiles seemed, their bodies tensed as they shared anxious looks. I pouted, tilting my head to the side as I looked around. Aang was already long gone, no one in sight. What could be upsetting them?

           “Is everything alright?” I asked curiously, and I had to raise a brow at the way they nudged each other in the stomach.

           “You tell her.”

           “No, you do.”

           “I didn’t let her enter.”

           “She’s a Princess; I can’t exactly say ‘no.’ And you were there with me, why didn’t you say anything?” They bickered with each other. My head snapped back and forth, watching how they grumbled under their breath, like two school children bickering. It was literally like watching Katara and Sokka fight, just older and from the Fire Nation.

           I let out a small giggle, shaking my head, children.

           “Can someone, please, tell me? I promise I won’t get mad.” I urged, crossing my arms over my chest. At the sound of my voice, they stilled, nervously shifting in their spots. I gave them a look, and that seemed to do the trick. Both of blurting out what they didn’t want to say, “Princess Kiyi is inside your bedroom. She says she wants to sleep in your bed.”

           My eyes widen at the news, staring at the large bedroom doors.

           K-Kiyi?

           I opened my mouth, only to close it once more.

           This was strange.

           Kiyi was undoubtedly a cuddlier, loved to spend time with everyone and anyone. The star of the show, able to capture the hearts of many with her positive and addictive attitude. Sometimes Zuko would go to her room and read books before she went to bed, often coming back to the bedroom and telling me how these children’s books were ‘cringy.’

           But to have her, in our bed, saying that she wants to stay the night had me in a whirlwind. It was so unlike her. She loved snuggling, but she was one independent cookie – one who went to the beat of her own drum. Processing their words, both of them gawking over me, trying to figure out if I was upset at the news.

           “Did she give a reason why she wished to stay?” I asked, and they nodded eagerly, “Something about a card?”

           “Oh-”

           “We can go and ask her to leave, Imperial Consort, we shouldn’t have let her stay in the first place-”

           “No,” I spoke up, raising my hand and gently placing it over theirs.

           Their breathing hitched, unsure if I was about to get upset, but I quickly flashed a smile. Shaking my head because suddenly, it made sense, remembering the sad smile on Kiyi’s face from this morning when she spoke about Zuko.

           She was just as upset and worried as everyone else about the whole situation. Just because she was a child, and didn’t know all the details regarding the situation, didn’t mean she didn’t pick up on the depressive tone from us all. Just like how I needed a hug, I bet Kiyi needed one too.

           “Do me a favour, please, and let Lady Ursa know that Kiyi is with me tonight. To send a maid in the morning to wake us, so she goes to school on time.”

           They both nodded, letting out a breath, “We’ll go right now, Imperial Consort.”

           “Thank you. Have a nice night.”

           “You too.” They smiled before bowing.

           I turned on my heel, facing the bedroom doors, my hands falling over it. With one fluid movement, I eased my way inside, only for the corners of my lips to curve upwards.

           What a sight.

           There Kiyi sat, in the middle of Zuko and I’s bed, pillows around her as she held the teddy bear Zuko gave me tight to her chest. The blankets were perfectly nestled under her chin, her beady eyes glowing under the warmth of the candles. “Button?” I cooed, and I could hear Kiyi enthusiastically squirm under the sheets.

           “I was waiting; it’s past bedtime.” She smugly retorted, and while I didn’t see the look on her face, I already knew she had a huge grin.

           “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that this room here I’m pretty sure doesn’t belong to you.” I teased, stepping inside as I let the door shut behind me. With ease, I pulled at the elastic that held my hair into a high pony, mewling with delight as it fell. All the tension in my scalp, releasing as my hair draped over my shoulders.

           Kiyi watched in awe as she sat up, her mouth hanging, “Your hair is so long and pretty.”

           “Compliments won’t work on me, button.” I pestered, grabbing one of Zuko’s old T-shirts that was draped at the end of the bed.

           With the shirt in hand, I eased my way to the bathroom, letting the door open just a crack, so I could hear the way Kiyi buzzed on the other side. My hand rubbed the back of my neck, another yawn escaping me before my eyes settled over the mirror, taking in my appearance for the first time in a while.

           I looked exhausted.

           The dress I wore seemed oddly loose about my hips, fingers a bit boney, and cheeks sullen. Dark circles under my eyes and back aching from hunching over the desk all day, staying up all night only to wake up bright and early. I let my hands run through my hair, trying my best to shake out the tangles, too tired to brush.

           With a tired sigh, my fingers danced to the front of my dress, beginning to undress.

           “Yue, where did you get this teddy? He’s so cute.” I heard Kiyi gush and laughed softly. “Who do you think, button?” I responded, letting the red fabric fall onto the floor.

           My hands grasped Zuko’s old shirt, easily squirming my body into it. It was massive in size, stopping near my thighs as it bagged over my body comfortably. His warm spice-like scene still etched into the fabric, like cinnamon.

           “Was it Zuzu?” Kiyi shouted, and I happily smiled with closed eyes, “You bet it.”

           In a matter of minutes, I cleaned myself up, patting my face dry with a towel and wiped the last drop of my cream onto my leg. My hand reached for the door, ready to step out, but I stilled for a split moment, catching a glimpse of myself once more in the mirror. A sad smile reaching my eyes knowing that I saw Zuko today, even if it were for the last time.

           As long as you’re safe, Zuko, that’s all that matters

           “Which side do you want, button?” I questioned, forcing my pitch to be higher than usual, a weak attempt to appear cheery. With my hands on my hips, I stopped at the foot of the bed, gazing over at Kiyi with tender eyes.

           Kiyi brought a finger to her lip as if thinking deeply of the question. Her cute brows scrunching up before her lighting up unexpectedly, “Where do you sleep?”          

           “On the right,” I answered, and Kiyi grinned.

           “Then I want to sleep right-” Kiyi droned before rolling underneath the blankets and stopping abruptly, “here.” I giggled at Kiyi’s silliness, taking note where this little ball of trouble decided to sleep.

           “As you wish, button.” I hummed under my breath before walking towards the left side of the bed.

           My fingers dragged along the warm covers, eyes setting over the pillow and nightstand that rested. The unfinished book Zuko had left sitting over the table, the candles still fresh and unused for the past week until today. And while Kima and Lia even dusted his side, creating the illusion as if space has been used, I swallowed back the sadness.

           I didn’t dare touch this side once, opting to curl myself into a tight ball, sticking too far right.

           But now standing here, pulling the heavy covers back had me entering a joyful trance. If I thought wearing Zuko’s shirts gave me flashbacks of pure bliss, letting my body dip into the bed, head resting along his pillow had me turning pink. It felt like home, the closest I’ve been to him for days, and if it weren’t for Kiyi’s giggle, I would’ve laid here with a goofy smile plastered on my face for hours.

           I twisted my body, pulling the blankets over us as Kiyi wiggled her way closer to my body. Her legs wrapped themselves with mine, letting my arm drape over her frame as she rested her head on my shoulder. My lips danced along with her temple, placing a sweet kiss, “So button, tell me, something. Why did you come to my bed tonight?”

           I heard Kiyi shyly huff, before mumbling softly, “Because I miss Zuko…”

           A low sigh escaped me, placing another chaste kiss over her. “He misses you too, button. I know when he gets up, he’s going to give you tons of hugs and kisses, especially after that card.” I cooed against her forehead, hand caressing her face.

           Kiyi sniffled, nodding slightly as she tugged the blankets closer to her body. I could tell based on the way her body didn’t squirm as much anymore, that sleep was starting to get the best of her. I wonder how far it is past her bedtime? Hopefully, she gets the rest she needs.

           “Yue…” Kiyi quietly spoke, her voice so low that I had to force myself to hear her properly. “Do you ever get lonely without Zuzu around?”

           My mouth opened at her question, pulling her body closer to me as I thought. I’ve never felt lonelier in my life until now.

           “Of course, Button, but guess who decided to surprise me in my bed, it’s like a cuddle party.” I chirped under my breath, trying to keep my tone down. Kiyi giggled feebly at my answer before a tiny yawn left her lips.

           I rose a brow at the adorable yawn that left her, reminding me of the cute sighs Zuko was letting go as he slept. “Is someone tired?” I whispered, and I could hear her pout.

           “No…I-I can stay up a bit longer...” Kiyi argued tiredly, but as I pulled back, I snickered under my breath.

           Kiyi’s eyes were droopy, struggling to stay open as she snuggled the teddy bear close to her chest. I let my hand brush her black locks behind her ears, carefully moving her head from my shoulder onto my pillow. Without much protests, just a tiny whine, Kiyi curled into a ball, head sinking into the cushion.

           “I love you, Yue.” She whispered sleepily, and I beamed, tucking the blankets under her chin. “I love you too, button. Thank you for always bringing a smile to my face.” I hummed, before slowly inching my way back, sitting upright for a brief moment to blow out the candles that lit the space.

           The room darkened, only the moonlight seeping through the curtain, casting shadows. But this time, the shadows – didn’t feel as scary.

           I pulled the covers over my body, settling onto my side as I let my arm drape over Kiyi’s resting figure. My heart twisted into knows, joy filling my soul, as the light from the moon cast just enough illumination for me to see the tranquil expression on Kiyi.

           My hand rose, gently caressing her chubby cheeks, her lips parting as her breathing evened out. She’s precious. Soft snores escaping her as she snuggled deeper into my hold, blankets enveloping her body.

           “Goodnight, button,” I whispered into her messy hair, my own eyes falling shut.

           I don’t want to leave. Not Kiyi, or the Gaang, Iroh or Ursa…

           But most importantly, I don’t want to leave Zuko.

           My breathing began to even out; mind spacing as my body felt heavy. Sleep beginning to consume my body, enjoying the way my muscles relaxed. How long has it been since I’ve been able to ease into such a calm state?

           Lost in the peace, the gentle sounds of the door opening, footsteps pattering was dismissed as nothing more but a dream. The current state of nirvana, mind floating, disregarding the way the blankets shifted over my body. Probably Kiyi getting comfy.

           Intuitively, I squirmed in my spot, bringing the covers closer to myself, head sinking into the pillow. A comforting warmth was spooning me from behind the further I fell into a deep sleep, as if two large arms were holding me from behind.

           I smiled softly because there wasn’t a doubt in my mind who I was dreaming of. The way their hands cupped my own – fingers rubbing my palms as their legs tangled with both mine and Kiyi’s.  

           “Zuko.” I weakly called, because the dream felt so real. As if he was right behind, his face pressed into my hair, his hot breath tickling my ear. Even his overwhelming firewood scent filled my scenes, eyes rolling to the back of my head despite my eyes shut because it was the smell of home.

           “Shh, baby. Just sleep, I got you.” I could hear him drone into my ear, my heart pounding because I could feel the way his chest rumbled from behind. It was crazy, how vivid this dream. But my body too tired, to relaxed, to move and make sure that I was in fact, dreaming, let the doubts in my mind go.

           Enjoy the dream, Yue. Your first happy dream in days.

           “Zuko…” I sighed in harmony, snuggling my body deeper into his embrace. Right away, the grip he had on my body tightened, cooing into my ear, “Yes, love?”

           “I’m…sorry. I don’t…I don’t want to go.”

           “Then don’t.” he quickly replied into my ear, a raspiness in his voice. I let out a small sniffle as I instinctively pulled his hand to my chest. “But…I…I want…you safe.”

           “I’m safe, right here, with you in my arms.”

           “I… I love you.”

           “I love you, too, Yue,” Zuko whispered once more before my mind drifted completely.

           And for the first time, in days, I slept.

           With the biggest smile on my face.

Copyright © 2019 Mystic-Kitten-Writer, inc. all rights reserved. No reposting, modifying, or translations of any kind allowed. Thank you for your cooperation.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

[lifeofkaze]

When Stars Ignite - Chapter 15

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: Katriona Cassopeia (in mention) belongs to the gorgeous @kc-and-oc, David Willows (in mention) belongs to the wonderful @that-scouse-wizard

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: language

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @carewyncromwell @night-rhea @thatravenpuffwitch

Mm, child, tired of the bullshit Go on, dust your shoulders off and keep it moving Yes, Lord, tryna get some new shit In there, swimwear, going-for-the-pool shit

~ Cold Years - Good As Hell ~

Lizzie frowned as she saw Murphy quickly turning his wheelchair around and getting ready to leave as she approached him and Orion. The blond sound technician nodded to her in passing and she could have sworn he winked at her as well.

She looked after him curiously as she sat down on the deckchair next to Orion, her towel loosely wrapped around her shoulders.

“What’s gotten into him?”

Orion smiled ominously. “Yearning for his one true love.”

“What, basketball?” Lizzie snorted. “Fucking fringe sports.”

Orion had to laugh at her words. “I was talking about Katriona.”

Lizzie shrugged. “Close enough.” She tilted her head to see what Orion had been writing down into his notebook. “How’s the song going?”

He spun the pencil between his fingers, the way Lizzie had shown him with a drumstick. “Slowly; I’ve been a little distracted by more inspirational sights.”

He briefly smiled at her before resting his chin on his arms with his eyes closed.

“Were you now,” Lizzie giggled. She moved a little closer to Orion, pulled her still dripping ponytail over her shoulder and wrung it out over his back. She laughed as he jumped at the cold water hitting his warm skin.

“What was that for?” he called out, playfully trying to shove her away. “You’re a mood of your own, do you know that?”

“As if you don’t love it.”

Orion only snorted and chose not to answer. Expecting another teasing remark from Lizzie, he was surprised when she remained silent. Looking up, Orion saw her attention had shifted from him to the other side of the pool. He followed her eyes to where Artemis was sitting alone on her deckchair, listening to music with her gigantic headphones on while scrolling through her phone.

“You’re still intent on making friends with her, aren’t you?” Orion said. It was more a statement than a question.

Lizzie hummed in response, her eyes not leaving Artemis. “I can’t believe she wants to be alone all of the time.”

“Have you considered that maybe she values her solitude more than she does company?” Orion contemplated softly. “Sometimes we keep from others because we want to protect sides of ourselves we don’t want anyone to see.”

“Like Merula does all the time?”

Orion nodded. “Yes, she and Artemis are more similar than both of them might think.”

“But Merula and I became friends eventually,” Lizzie said stubbornly. “The effort was on another level but we still did. I bet I could make Artemis like me; I don’t want her to be alone all the time. That’s the best part of touring isn’t it? Spending all this time with your friends.”

“It is for us, but not necessarily for her. You can’t force her, Liz; if she wants to remain alone, you’ll have to accept that. Why are you so intent on befriending her anyway,” he wanted to know, “is this about you or about her?”

“It’s not an ego thing, if that’s what you’re going for,” Lizzie answered a little more sharply than she had meant to. She could see that Orion was taken aback by her tone, so she softened her voice a little as she tried to explain.

“I don’t think she’s keeping to herself by choice,” she said. “She’s always on the sidelines, always watching what everyone else is doing. She only started talking to Charlie a few days ago, and God knows how he managed to do that. I don’t think that’s because she doesn’t like us, though. I think she just had really bad experiences in the past.”

“Artemis is not a scared cat. It shows your compassion that you want to include her so badly but just think about all the things you’ve tried already. You tried talking to her many different times, you wanted her to join us for lunch, asked her to go out for drinks after the shows; she declined every single one of your offers. If Artemis wants to tear down her walls, she will do so in her own time and at her own pace.”

Lizzie contemplated Orion’s words; without thinking about it, she placed her hand on the tattoo on Orion’s back. She had seen it up close so many times by now, but she never grew tired of how beautiful it looked. The water beads still glistening on his skin were looking like shiny pearls amongst the black lines.

She was broken out of her thoughts, when Orion moved away from her touch. “What’s wrong?”

He looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “You know I appreciate both the gesture of affection and the thrill of the risk, but I think you’re taking things a little too far.”

Lizzie only chuckled and tried to playfully poke him in the ribs, but Orion moved out of her reach again. A little irritated, she furrowed her brow. “Since when have you become so boring? You didn’t complain about the little extra attention when we had the photoshoot yesterday.”

“I know, but still, it was reckless of you,” Orion replied calmly. “People could start noticing.”

“But they didn’t.”

Orion sighed. “I’m not entirely sure about that.”

Lizzie’s shoulders tensed, all playfulness disappearing from her face. “What do you mean?”

“I think Skye might have seen something. I wasn’t sure because she didn’t say anything so I decided to wait and see. But in any case, it is unwise to draw attention like that.”

Lizzie raised her head, her eyes moving to where Skye was sitting with Erika and Andre. And sure enough, the blue haired bassist was in fact looking their way. Lizzie unconsciously moved a little away from Orion, but when hers and Skye’s eyes met, Skye’s look confirmed what the sinking feeling in Lizzie’s stomach had been telling her all along - she knew.

“That’s not good,” Lizzie whispered, more to herself than Orion.

“It is far from optimal indeed.”

And sure enough, Skye’s frown deepened as quickly as Lizzie’s panic was growing. She watched as her friend said something to Erika before getting out of her chair to come over to them.

Lizzie absolutely didn’t want to be confronted by Skye, and least of all in front of the others. Skye had never been a particularly subtle person; if Lizzie got into an argument with her here, she might as well shout everything from the rooftops.

Before Skye could make her way to them, Lizzie practically jumped out of her seat, trying to look as casual as possible while her heart was racing in her chest.

“Pity you don’t want to join the next round,” she proclaimed just loudly enough for Skye to hear it, “water polo is always more fun with more players.”

She set her eyes on Artemis, who was still sitting on the opposite side of the pool. “I’ll just go and ask Artemis instead.”

“How smooth,” she heard Orion mutter with a mocking tone, but didn’t care. She had wanted to speak to Artemis anyway and if she could bring the whole length of the pool between herself and Skye by doing so, all the better.

Lizzie set off to round the pool in the opposite direction to Skye; much to her relief, she noted that her friend had sat down onto her deckchair again, but she could feel her green eyes boring into her back.

Artemis was slumped deep into her chair when Lizzie approached her. She was slightly nodding her head to the inaudible beat coming from her headphones. The corners of Lizzie’s mouth twitched when she saw the stylised cat face engraved in silver on the speakers; she had the same limited edition.

Artemis was so concentrated on her phone that she didn’t even notice Lizzie’s presence. Lizzie wondered if that was intentional, but when Artemis jumped violently when Lizzie sat down next to her, she instantly felt sorry; she hadn’t wanted to scare her.

She countered Artemis’ hostile stare with an extra cheerful smile, partly because she wanted to start the conversation off right and partly to mask her own jumpy nerves.

“All alone today?”

Artemis sized her up for a moment. “Apparently.”

“Sorry about scaring you, I thought you’d seen me coming.”

The look in Artemis’ eyes grew hard. “I’m not scared.”

“I just thought…”

“I said, I’m not scared,” Artemis repeated stubbornly and Lizzie raised her hands in defence.

“Of course not, sorry.”

She waited for Artemis to show any sign of wanting to continue their conversation but received none, so she tried again. “Do you want to come over and sit with the rest of us? You don’t have to sit alone all of the time.”

Artemis’ eyes flickered to where Everett was basking in the sun. “I don’t think so.”

Lizzie was looking in the same direction. “Whistling after you earlier was shit, sorry about that. Ev takes a lot of getting used to, but he doesn’t really mean it that way.”

Now Artemis’ hazel eyes found hers and Lizzie could see a trace of anger flashing in them. “I think he very much meant it that way.”

Lizzie sighed; actually, Artemis was right but that wasn’t something she could downright tell her and still hope to get her to come. “He can be such an idiot, I know. Just forget about him.”

Artemis indicated her headphones. “That was the plan.”

The faint sound of a guitar was reaching Lizzie’s ears from the music that was still playing, and the voice of the singer was sounding familiar. “What are you listening to?”

Artemis watched her critically, probably contemplating just putting her headphones back on, and be done with it. “Some cover songs from a singer from Liverpool. He’s called David Willows. Have you heard of him?”

Lizzie had to laugh. “You could say I’ve met him once or twice back in the days.”

She immediately regretted laughing when Artemis’ eyes narrowed; she had probably given the impression that she was making fun of her.

It was apparent that the unapproachable pyro tech had no intention of continuing their conversation; she was repeatedly glancing at her phone and her whole body language had turned dismissive. Under usual circumstances Lizzie would have given up at this point but she didn’t want to give Skye another opportunity to talk to her.

“What I actually wanted to ask,” she tried for the third time, “Charlie and I want to play another round of water polo. Want to join?”

The look in Artemis’ eyes turned contemptuous. “And climb onto some random guys naked back to make a mickey out of myself?” She demonstratively dropped her eyes to her phone. “No thanks, I’m good.”

Lizzie had to stifle a sigh at her stubbornness. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“I said no,” Artemis replied, a lot more sharply than before.

Lizzie felt a flare of temper. “It’s just water polo, why are you making such a fuss about it?”

Artemis' face darkened considerably and Lizzie feared she might have overstepped her mark. But before Artemis could say something, her eyes shifted from Lizzie to something in her back, only moments before Lizzie felt Charlie’s hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

“There you are, little rockstar. Have you persuaded Artemis to join?”

His tone was easy but the look in his eyes wasn’t lost on Lizzie; he wasn’t happy at all she had disregarded his wish to leave Artemis alone.

“I’m afraid not.” Her tone was brusque; she was pissed with Charlie for stepping in.

Charlie’s mouth twisted into a grin. “Hate to say it, but I told you so.”

His attention turned to Artemis, who was just as unhappy with her company than the rest of them. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Artemis sighed deeply. “If you have to.”

She put her phone down and got up and Charlie immediately walked her away from Lizzie. Lizzie’s face darkened and she fought the urge to cross her arms in front of her chest. She was not impressed Charlie had interfered; he was starting to grow overly protective of Artemis, even though she didn’t seem to be the kind of person to need anybody’s protection but her own.

Her thoughts were instantly forgotten, when she suddenly heard Skye’s voice in her back.

“Jameson, you and I, we need to talk.”

Lizzie grimaced before turning around. Skye had her arms crossed and was staring at her accusingly.

“What’s on your mind?” Lizzie sighed.

“You know damn well what’s on my mind,” Skye hissed. “There’s something you need to tell me, right fucking now.”

Lizzie averted her eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know damn well what I mean,” Skye snorted. “What in the actual fuck is going on with you and Orion? Don’t try to pull the old innocent-trick on me, we’ve lived together and I know you’re as innocent as Merula next to an empty box of cigarettes.”

Her eyes narrowed when Lizzie didn’t answer. “I saw what you did yesterday at the photoshoot and I saw you earlier next to him as well. You’re not even as handsy when it comes to Charlie and a lot of things make a lot more sense to me now. So, gonna ask you again and you better not lie to me; what’s the deal?”

Lizzie muttered something under her breath, making Skye frown. “What’s that?”

Knowing she would have to tell her friend if she liked it or not, Lizzie sighed. “We may potentially have a little thing going on, if you want to call it that,” she said, not meeting Skye’s eyes.

Just as she had feared, Skye’s voice immediately rose in volume. “Are you out of your bloody mind?”

“Keep your voice down,” Lizzie said angrily, “there’s no need to shout.”

Ignoring her words, Skye continued, albeit with a lower voice. “You know the rules! It’s a clear hands off the other band members. What if dad finds out you guys are dating?”

“He won’t find out if you just shut up about it and keep your nose out of things that aren’t your business,” Lizzie responded sharply. “And for the record, we’re not dating. It’s just some fun, nothing of it.”

Skye pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers, clearly exasperated at her friends’ antics. “Can’t believe it, I always thought you were the smart one out of the two of us. How long have you been at it?”

Lizzie fidgeted uncomfortably. “A few months? Maybe?” She faltered under Skye’s withering stare. “Since last August.”

Skye looked at her incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned. “You’re not saying you’ve been shagging our guitarist longer than my longest relationship lasted and never even thought to tell me? Your best friend?”

“At least I’ll have to tell no one else if you don’t stop shouting,” Lizzie replied wryly. “And sorry to say that but your average relationship duration is not a very high benchmark to reach.”

Despite herself, Skye had to suppress a grin. “Fair game.” The smile faded as quickly as it had come when she continued. “Seriously though, are you sure about what you’re doing? It’s a damn right dangerous game you’re playing at, is all I’m saying. What if something goes wrong?”

They both glanced over to where Orion was now again working on whatever song was floating around in his head. Much to their surprise, Artemis was sitting next to him. When she saw them looking, they quickly turned their heads again.

“Nothing will go wrong,” Lizzie insisted, “if anyone should know shagging a colleague can work just fine, it’s you.”

If Lizzie hadn’t known her so well, she might have missed the slight flush creeping onto Skye’s face. “No idea what you’re on about.”

Lizzie made a dismissive sound. “Oh please. Don’t act as if not the whole fucking crew knows about you and Erika.”

Skye raised her chin defiantly. “Okay fine, maybe being friends with benefits can work, but this is different. She’s part of the crew, Orion’s an actual member of the band, and a damn important one at that. If you guys screw things up, we’re all royally fucked.”

“Stop worrying, everything will be alright. Orion and I are completely on the same page with this.”

Lizzie hesitated for a moment. “You’ll keep this to yourself, right? You won’t tell your dad about this?”

Skye looked at her as if she had gone mad for good. “Do you think I’m bonkers? Dad doesn’t need to know everything. Way too involved in our stuff as it is, if you ask me. But you got to promise me one thing.”

Relieved the immediate catastrophe had been averted, Lizzie nodded. “What?”

“Don’t put me into a position where I need to lie to my dad, alright?” There was nothing of the ever present sparkle in Skye’s eyes; she was dead serious about this. “Don’t get too involved with him. This is about family.”

[heavcnslyre]

ricky bowen x reader series! part two

— starstruck au!

series masterlist, part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine, part ten

IN WHICH you’re dragged along to camilla’s plans to try to meet ricky bowen— but the wrong one out of the two of you ends up in an encounter with him instead.

WARNINGS a lot more swearing this chapter rather than last, you have to get stitches

NOTES this chapter is actually pretty long. i’m not super happy with how it ends but it’s going to pick up in the next chapter exactly where it left off in this one, i just didn’t want to keep adding onto this one lmaoo. also there are some parts that are lowkey written poorly but i’m tired and it’s not too bad HAHAH enjoy!

edit 1-16-21 i changed the song he was singing if u saw it before no u didn’t!!!

(y/n) - your name

text dividers from @writeyourmindaway !!

lowercase intended.

“bye ash! have a good time!” you called as ashlyn was leaving. she waved goodbye and drove away in her parents car. it had taken a couple of hours for her to be happy with her outfit and hair/makeup, but she ended up looking really nice (not that she didn’t before, she just seemed to glow when she felt prettier). as you turned back into the house, camilla grabbed your arm and pulled you into your bedroom.

“what the hell cam?” you asked as she closed the bedroom door.

“mom and dad just agreed to me taking you around the city tonight and we’re going to nini’s party,” she said, turning towards the still packed suitcases and digging through them. you watched, eyebrows raised.

“really? what’s in it for me? i’m not just going to follow you to la to stalk this poor guy.”

camilla rolled her eyes and holds a dress up against herself in the mirror. “you can meet nini, maybe. you like her music, don’t you?”

“that dress is mine. and yeah i like her music but i’m not crashing her birthday party just to meet her.”

“whatever. you can wait in the car. i’ll just.... buy you something later.” she put the dress she had down and grabbed another one.

“how about you stop talking about ricky? i’ll go if you stop.”

camilla gave you an incredulous look. “stop talking about him? have you met me? or seen him?”

“fine. at least for the rest of the trip. take it or leave it.” she sighed and paused for a second, before nodding and grabbing the first dress she had.

“alright. but i’m wearing your dress.”

after the short drive to los angeles, camilla drove around, trying to find parking. but, naturally, it was los angeles, and there was no available parking. after more than ten minutes of searching, camilla sighed in frustration and pulled over, directly next to a ‘no parking’ sign. you pursed your lips and pointed up at it.

“cam, this is very clearly a no parking zone. you’re going to get a ticket,” she ignored you and dug in the backseat for her bag.

“i’ll be back in less than half an hour. stay put. if someone tries to talk to you... ignore them. or punch them, or something. i don’t care. just be safe.”

“you too,” you said, although it came out as more of a question. she moved the mirror to face her, made a few adjustments to her hair, then left the car quickly. you sighed and sank into your seat. it was going to be a while.

after almost half an hour with no sign of your sister, you texted her a simple ‘you okay?’ but recieved no response. you fidgeted in your seat, switching between random apps on your phone, trying to pass the time. eventually, close to 50 minutes pass and you sighed, realizing that you should probably go look for her.

you wrung your hands out and grabbed your bag, opening your door quickly and rushing across the street. the street was crowded and the main entrance to the club was packed full of fans wanting to get into the building. you stood on your toes, trying to find camilla, but you didn’t see her anywhere. ready to give up, you spot an alleyway by the building. you considered it for a moment before mentally saying fuck it and walking towards the alleyway. you’re busy looking for an entrance when a door opens suddenly and you ram into it, head first, knocking you onto your butt.

“ow, fuck,” you said, rubbing your head and wincing as you saw you were bleeding.

“oh, god!” the person who opened the door exclaimed as they knelt onto the ground to be at your level. “i’m so sorry— i didn’t know you were there.”

“it’s... it’s fine,” you said. “how could you have known?”

“can i help? i might have some bandaids in my car...”

you shook your head and look up at the person. “no, it’s... wait, are you ricky—”

he put one hand over your mouth and the other on the side of your face. “i’ll give you tickets to my next concert or something if you don’t scream my name.”

you shoved his hand off of you. “didn’t have to make it sound so kinky. i don’t want tickets to your show.”

“i...i didnt—” ricky stuttered but trailed off as a car pulls up in the alley. someone comes out of the drivers seat quickly.

“ricky, what the hell is going on?” the person asked as they advance towards you quickly. the person in the passenger seat gets out shortly after the first person and walked towards you as well.

“i... i hit her with my door on the way out. should probably take her to the hospital?” he asked nervously. the person knelt next to you and you recognize him as the guy ashlyn’s talking to from a few pictures she’s shown you.

“wait, you’re—”

“(y/n)?!” the person from the passenger seat exclaimed as they approached you. your eyes widened as ashlyn kneels in front of you, putting her hand on your cheek.

“ashlyn? what the hell?”

“i was about to ask you the same thing, what are you doing here?” she asked, worry written on her face. she moved your hand to look at the mark on your forehead.

“cam forced me here, she came to meet...” you looked over at ricky. “came to meet him.”

ashlyn rolled her eyes, not looking away from your face. “of course she did.”

“wait, how do you guys know each other?” ricky asked. “and who’s cam?”

“(y/n)’s my cousin, camilla is her sister. huge fan of yours,” ashlyn explained. “i should get her to a hospital.”

“let me take her,” ricky piped up. “i was the one who hit her.”

“ricky, you’re not even supposed to be out of the house right now. imagine what the press would say if you show up with.... a girl you don’t know at a hospital. you’d never get the role,” big red said firmly. ashlyn gave him a similar look to what big red was giving.

“i know but... i should take her. it’s only fair, i hit her,” ricky said, and him and red stared at each other for a minute. “besides, she just said her sister’s here. someone needs to find her, it’d be easier to explain coming from her cousin than me.”

“she would probably have a heart attack if it came from you,” ashlyn agreed. red sighed.

“fine. but just be careful, and stay out of the light. lurk in the shadows, or whatever. i’ll see you at your house in two hours.”

“okay.” ricky said. ashlyn stood up and helped you up.

“ricky, if you do anything to her, i will kill you. be careful. (y/n),” she turned to you. “i’ll try to distract cam and i’ll meet you at grandmas. text me what the doctor says.”

you hugged her quickly. “okay, i will.”

ashlyn gave one more stern look to ricky who raised his hands in defense before walking away with big red. ricky grabbed your bag off the ground and offered an arm for you to lean on to help bring you to the car. you shook your head, telling him you were fine and climbed into the passengers seat of his fancy car. he looked around before getting into the car quickly and putting on sunglasses.

“are you like on the run from the cops or something?” you asked after a minute of silence. he lookedcat you quickly, eyebrows knit.

“what do you mean?”

“well, you were coming out of a club through an alleyway, your friend was pulling the car into the alley and you’re acting super paranoid. should i be worried?”

he laughed. “no. running from the press, more like. i’m not supposed to be out this weekend. i’m.... up for a lead in a new tv show and any press this weekend, good or bad, could ruin it.”

“then why are you out? you could have easily avoided this whole situation by staying home,” you said pointedly. he sighed.

“i promised nini i’d sing at her party. i didn’t want to let her down. and i didn’t think someone would be walking down the alleyway at close to midnight anyways.”

you scoffed. “yeah well, i was there because of you anyways. your fault all around.”

he looked over at you with the same confused expression as before. “you were there because of me?”

“not like that. don’t get your hopes up,” you said. “my sister is obsessed with you, remember? she told me to wait in the car while she went to find you. it had been a while and the main entrance was packed. i needed to find a way in.”

“so... more your sisters fault, huh.”

“yeah. i guess so,” ricky grinned at you. you gave him a small, unamused smile back and turned to look out the window.

once you made it to the hospital, a doctor came to greet you almost immediately, as there were few people there. the doctor closed the curtain around you as he did the examination and ricky sat on the other side of it. you ended up getting a few stitches but he confirmed that you didn’t have any serious damage. the only thing he suggested was to keep an ice pack on it.

“so she’s okay?” ricky asked, peeking in through the curtain. the doctor laughed.

“yeah, she’s fine. let me go grab the ice pack, i’ll be back,” he left you and ricky in awkward silence for a moment. but, it was broken by his phone ringing loudly. his eyes widened and he answered the phone quickly.

“mom? what’s up?”

you couldn’t hear what she was saying on the other end, but he seemed to tense up after every second she talked. you watched, raising your eyebrows.

“okay, alright. stall him. i’ll be there in...” he looked at the clock on the wall. “twenty minutes. okay. thank you!”

ricky ended the call and turned towards you, a sheepish grin on his face. “yeah... so we may have to take a quick pit stop before i take you home.”

you glared at him. “you’ve got to be kidding.”

he wasn’t kidding.

as soon as you pulled up to his house, you text ashlyn.

you; help ricky is kidnapping me he just brought me to his house

ashlyn; if i didn’t know ricky i would be really worried rn

you; HOW WELL DO YOU KNOW HIM???

ashlyn; pretty well we’ve hung out a few times

you; oml

you; well he’s a kidnapper. and he made me get stitches

ashlyn; no way you needed stitches? what are you gonna tell your parents?

you; no clue!!!!! do i just casually tell them ricky bowen ran a door into my face???

ashlyn; fuck they probably wouldn’t take that well. i’ll figure it out and save ur ass. hang on.

you; you’re my favorite person in the entire world

ashlyn; i know

“you coming?” ricky asked from outside the car. you looked up from your phone, not even realizing that he had been waiting.

“oh, sorry.”

“no problem,” he mumbled. you get out of the car and he lead you into his house (past his six cars). it was huge. tall ceilings, brand new looking leather furniture, huge doors leading to the backyard, a spiral staircase. if you were being honest, it was pretty close to your dream house (or, one of your dream houses). you stared at it in disbelief.

“you, a seventeen year old, live here?”

ricky doesn’t look at you. he was staring into the yard, searching frantically. “yeah. been in the industry five years now, makes you a lot of money. i guess.”

“you guess?” he didn’t answer, instead suddenly pulled you out of the view of the backyard. he looked around, sees that it’s clear, and pulled you towards the stairs.

“keep your head down for a second,”

you put your head down and walk quickly next to him. “ricky, what the hell?”

“just... hang on.”

“why the hell are you pulling me?”

“shut up for a second.”

you stared at him, taken aback. “fine.”

once you got upstairs, he pulled you into a random room.

“here’s my guest room. make yourself comfortable i’ll... be right back,”

you folded your arms over your chest. “why the hell did you bring me here just to hide me?”

ricky looked at you with wide eyes. “no, no! i’m not trying to hide you, necessarily. i just... don’t think either of us want anyone to see you.”

“harsh, but fine. go, mingle or whatever. just be quick. i don’t want my parents to be more pissed than they probably already are,” he thanked you and ran out of the room quickly. you sighed and sat in a chair in the corner of the room, pulling out your phone.

ashlyn; talked to ur parents. told them that you’re with a friend of mine because you fell and he wanted to take care of you. they’re not... happy, necessarily. less pissed than before tho

ashlyn; u still alive over there?

you; yeah. ricky hid me in his guest bedroom so he could go mingle at some party i’m assuming his parents are throwing

ashlyn; OHH yeah his parents threw a party tonight, i don’t see why he needs to be there?

you; he told me on the way here that a producer of the show he’s trying to get a role in is here and he wasn’t supposed to leave home this weekend

you; idk or at least that’s what i think he said i didn’t rly pay attention

ashlyn; aren’t you just a kind ball of sunshine

as you were typing your response, you heard a guitar strumming from outside. looking up and realizing that the balcony door was open, you decided to go see what was going on. you looked down and saw ricky sitting on a stool, strumming his guitar. he started to sing— a song you didn’t recognize. you knew most of his music (in result from camilla blasting it around the house every chance possible) but this one sounded new.

you say you gotta think it over

i can't stop thinkin' of you

is he the guy you want to hold ya

i'll be here when you need me to

you listened, suddenly intrigued. this song was nice— gentle, almost. you actually kinda liked it. and he seemed at peace as he was singing in front of these people, he seemed genuinely happy.

make you feel beautiful in the morning

light you up when the rain won't stop pouring

'cause there's a million little things I haven't told ya

it kills me every time he's with you, so

ricky made eye contact with you and his expression almost softened when he saw you watching. he smiled gently at you.

he continued the song. he seemed to be in a trance, so focused on the song and perfecting it. as you listened to the lyrics of what was obviously a love song, you sighed. it was beautiful, but you didn’t think it was appropriate for you to just be standing here watching him, as if this was a big romantic gesture in a movie. before he finished singing, you turned away and left the guest room.

you made your way down to the garage, trying to avoid anyone who happened to be inside— for both yours and ricky’s sake. you slipped into the garage quickly and before you even took ten steps inside, ricky was behind you.

“what are you doing?” he asked, a happy expression still on his face from singing. your eyes widened at his expression but you shook the feeling off quickly.

“i want to go home,”

“alright. were you planning on walking?”

you rolled your eyes. “haha. no dumbass, i was going to wait for you in here. not walking to glendale.”

he grabbed a pair of car keys from the hooks. “hey, glendale’s not that far, you’d make it there alright.”

“yeah, a teenage girl walking the streets of california at random hours of the night by herself. definitely make it there alright.”

he hummed. “you did it earlier,” he winked at you and moved to open the passenger door of his blue car for you. you got into the car and he closed the door, going to the drivers side.

“what’s your grandmas address?”

you told him the address and he pulled out of the garage, checking to make sure no one was watching, pulled out of his driveway, and drove down the street.

“so, what are you in california for?” he asked after a couple minutes of silence.

“holidays. we haven’t spent christmas with my family in a while, and california with my grandma seemed like a somewhat neutral place for us and my aunt and uncle to come to.”

“and where are you from?”

“western new york.”

ricky whistles. “completely across the country. yikes. different time zone too, right?”

“yeah. and the jet lag is an ass, i’m exhausted.”

“oh i get that. when i go on tour... i do nothing but sleep, eat, and perform.”

“that is quite the life to live.”

“tell me about it,” although he obviously meant that as a joke, there was a lining of bitterness in his tone that you picked up on. you looked over at him, but he stared straight forward at the road.

“so,” he started again, obviously eager to change the subject. “ashlyn’s your cousin?”

“mhm, has been my whole life,” you joked and he rolled his eyes playfully at you. “i had no idea you guys knew each other.”

“you didn’t know she was talking to big red?”

“i knew she was talking to a boy, she didn’t mention who he was, other than showing me a couple pictures. didn’t even tell me it was nini’s birthday party she was going to tonight.”

“oh. yeah, ashlyn’s the best. big red’s really happy with her.”

“and she seems happy with him. turn left here,” you pointed and he moved over into the turning lane. he turned onto your grandmas street and her house was the second on the right.

“thank you. for the ride,” you said awkwardly as you opened the door to his car.

“yeah, sure. thank you... for not getting too pissed at me for making you have to get stitches.”

you give him a small laugh and sit for a moment, feeling like you should say something else, but finally deciding to just leave. you said a small bye and he gave you a small wave and you rushed into the back door of your grandma’s house.

[koocycle]

if not forever | jk drabble

pairing. jungkook x reader

summary. “i wanted to be with you for a long time, if not forever. you ruined that. you ruined many things.”

wc. 1.6k

warnings. none

a/n. kinda messy post break up drabble. wrote this in one go and did not (!!) proof read nor edit ahaaa my sincere apologies if this is the worst thing u ever read

masterlist

“what’s so funny?”

your voice comes out a little harsher than you had officially intended to and for some odd reason, you had hoped to throw him off guard with it. however, the same beautiful yet forced grin keeps its place on his face. the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes yet he makes no effort into erasing it, maintaining his gaze on the plates of seafood in front of him.

“i’m sorry, i don’t mean to laugh at you,” he speaks with his mouth still stuffed with the fried shrimps you ordered earlier, showing you he kept his old habits you always told him to get rid off. “but it’s kinda funny to me.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie as you reposition yourself in your seat. he doesn’t need to see it, but he knows your fingers are nervously fumbling with the edge of the table cloth.

“you do, though.” the man in front of you places his chopsticks neatly back in place whilst speaking, still not making any eye contact.

“you don’t even like the dude. you’re making him look ridiculous sitting here.” he dares to state out loud, chewing on the last remains in his mouth.

the urge to roll your eyes at the man is getting stronger, and at first you decide to not give him the satisfaction of an answer. you have better things to do, you keep repeating to yourself. you don’t have time for such childish acts, you decide. that until he speaks up again.

“what even was that story about? dude keeps talking about his art galleries and shit. as if you could care less.” he snickers cockily into the warm air.

“drop it, jeongguk.”

“oh and don’t get me started on when he began to show off his paintings.” he huffs, “he was literally fishing for compliments. couldn’t be more obvious.” he continues on, taking another sip of his sparkly water. “he thinks he’s the shit because he owns a pair of designer shoes and a gucci bag.”

“excuse me, taehyung is a very fine man. thank you very much.” you snap at him, not taking his harsh words any longer.

“sure.” he holds his hands up in the air. “i’m just saying, he isn’t what you’re looking for.”

“and what am i looking for, jeongguk?” you ask almost immediately, fed up with his attitude and big ego. “since you know me so well, tell me everything about it.”

“i’m not trying to invade your life, since you decided i shouldn’t be a part of it any longer-”

you hold your finger up in the air, shushing him mid-sentence, “give me a minute to take notes, yeah?”

a beat of silence passes through the both of you, each of you way too stubborn to break the intense eye contact you are sharing. bubbles of laughter erupt on the tables beside yours, happy couples and families making the most out of their night, the tense atmosphere on the table next door going completely unnoticed by them.

and for the first time this night, you and jeongguk are actually, sincerely looking at each other. the previous hour before taehyung excused himself to the bathroom was filled with awkward small talk and tacky glances that didn’t last any longer than a second.

you didn’t plan to find your ex in this restaurant this exact night. fuck, you didn’t plan to see him ever again, you assured yourself it was better for your own mental health. and when your tinder date decided to meet up at his favorite restaurant? what would you do then? you’d go nonetheless. because what were the odds of seeing the one person you didn’t bet on seeing tonight? the chances were small, that for sure, but with your luck, you should’ve seen it coming.

and what would you do when your ex introduced himself to your new date as an old friend of yours? of course you’d sit down at his table. of course you would, because your prince charming for the night was a beautiful social butterfly. as talented as he is, as breathtaking as he looks, it wasn’t enough and he just had to be social enough to accompany this so called old friend on his table.

“i just don’t get how you can date him.” he sighs into the air, leaning back in his chair with a huff.

“he seems like a cool person to be around, whether or not he reaches your standards,” you say, slumping down your own seat now. “and we’re not dating.”

“you’re going on dates with him.” he corrects himself. “and you bring him to places i’ve been bringing you to the past three years?”

you hate the sharp edge to his tone. you hate the desperate search for answers which is evident in his voice. you hate it. you caused it, you’re aware. and the pang in your chest grows each second of taehyung’s absence.

“how could you throw us aside like that?”

his voice is booming loud and clear through your ears, and even though you had been expecting this question sooner or later tonight, you still hadn’t figured out a solid answer for him. you wish you had.

“did those three years mean nothing to you?” he has so many questions bottled up inside of him, so many questions he has collected over the past months, unable to form any solid answers himself - so now that you’re in front of him, he has to take his chances, no?

the sight of you not making any eye contact is irritating him, though. he doesn’t see, but he knows you’re staring at your fumbling fingers under the table, folding the edges of the napkin placed on your lap. your pretty lips are shut tight, the beautiful toothy smile he was once able to appear on your face, has disappeared. your silence is killing him.

“did they mean nothing to you?” he asks again, his voice slightly cracking halfway.

you feel his stare burning on your face, you hear the way he holds his breath for a few seconds. and it pains you. “they did. they still do.”

“then why did we stop? we were perfect together.” his voice lowers a few octaves, “we were perfect.”

“jeongguk..”

“i planned to stay with you for a long time, if not forever.” he says, unable to keep his stares away from you. he hates how you’re able to stay so silent, proving all the assumptions that had been swerving in his mind to be right. he wants to yell at you for being so calm, he wants you to know how he’s been feeling the past couple of months. like total shit.

he loves you so much. he loves you so much that it hurts. he loves you so much that he wants you to go through the pain he’s been going through. he may know it’s selfish, but the way you’re sitting there, slumped onto your seat, giving him answers filled with silence - he doesn’t care no more. doesn’t want to care.

“don’t say stuff like that, guk. you don’t mean that.” you rub your temples in a tired manner. “we both know that wasn’t going to work with the way things were going between us.”

they way his name leaves your lips in such an unfamiliar manner makes his head spin.

“you thought it wasn’t going to work.” he snaps, and loudly so, making a few heads turn in your direction. “you thought so many things and you made a rashed decision that isn’t better for neither of us.”

he continues on, “i wanted to stay with you for forever. you ruined that - you ruined many things. you ruined the beautiful things we had.” he rambles, and you can feel your heart beat against your ribcage now. “i bet you didn’t even think twice about the break up. bet you just went up and left. probably for this guy too. you didn’t care - you don’t care about those years. you’re selfish.”

“you gotta stop it, guk.”

“i have to remind myself to not be sad when i go home to an empty house when i leave work.” he says, an accusing finger pointing your way. “i loved you and you didn’t give two shits. i have to wake up and go to bed with a shit feeling whilst your out here going on dates with guys you barely know?”

you catch your breath in your throat. you want him to know how much he meant to you - how much he still means to you. how you’re going through it as well. you’re not sure if he’d still believe you, considering the circumstances you were in.

“i’m going through it as well, jeongguk. i swear i am. just as much as you.” you reach for his hands resting on the table, needy for some contact.

he pulls himself away from you, though. so your hands fall on the wooden table in defeat. “this is as hard for me as it is for you. but i had to do this. what we had wasn’t healthy.”

he nods as if he understands you. he doesn’t. his lips purse and his glossed eyes are the last thing you see before he tears his gaze away and grabs his stuff on the chair next to him.

“you don’t understand.” he mumbles, right before he goes up and leaves.

you call out for him a couple more times, but he’s not listening, so you watch him from afar, just until you hear the heavy door of the restaurant go to a shut.

and you cry.

[katiea03]

hey hawtie with a bawdy😏

i was sorta kind of wondering if you could do me a favor and write a fluff drabble of my mans hinata🤩 like him coming home from practice or something and he’s pretty sleepy and he’s just extra soft??

but yeah, bye now loser😀

if you don’t write this, another six months

☀︎︎*~Exhausted~*☀︎︎ (Hinata x Reader) Drabble

❣︎Warnings❣︎: None:)

❣︎Genre❣︎: Fluff

❣︎A/N❣︎: This is for my irl best firend @dreampathic . The worst best bitch I know! Here you go hoe 😘 It’s kinda long for a drabble but oh well! Since this is for you, I tried my best to edit it myself so hopefullly there aren’t too many mistakes 😬 Hope you enjoy eiher way!

Just one more chapter you told yourself. Just one more! But of course the last chapter is never the last chapter. You were lounging on the couch with a book you've been dying to read but had never gotten the time to read. With the first day off in a while, you couldn’t think of anything better to do. Especially with Hinata gone on another away game. As you turn another page, you glance down at the diamond that graced your ring finger.

Only being engaged for a few months, the excitement still buzzed within you. The butterflies that filled your stomach every time you looked at the ring felt so intoxicating. There’s no way this feeling could ever go away. But along with the immense joy, you felt the sinking feeling in your chest knowing he wasn’t with you. Your mind often wandered, wondering if he was looking at his engagement band as much as you did.

You curled yourself into the couch, resting your head on the arm rest. You knew what you were getting yourself into when deciding to marry the very much flamboyant and busy man you call your Fiancé. You went to every game you could, cheering him on in the crowd, dropping him off at the airport every time he had to leave on another trip. And every time he left, you wondered just how long he would be gone this time. You had no idea when he would be back this time. He said he could be another week in Brazil for maybe close to a month. With his tournaments, there was no telling what could happen, so you must wait.

The words on the page began to mix together and you felt yourself slowly begin to doze off when you hear the front door slam. You jolt up and quickly run to find anything to be used as a potential weapon. You grab the empty vase that sat on your bookcase and leaned against the wall waiting for whoever it may be. Your heart was racing a mile a minute and you instantly regret not immediately calling the cops. Footsteps be to creep louder and louder, the floorboards squeaking beneath each step. You held onto your breath without realizing and as soon as the figure in black pearled you popped out from around the corner.

The mysterious man shrieks, and so did you. You were frozen in place, instantly forgetting about your ‘weapon’ and the man almost flies back into the wall behind him.

“Babe what the fuck its me!” Hinata puts his hands up and keeps his distance, as you still have the glass case in your hand.

Your body releases from its tense state and you feel yourself finally breath.

Hinata takes the vase from your hand carefully before putting it down.

“Shoyo your home early?” He wipes his tired eyes before yawning.

“Yea, a bunch of stuff had to be rescheduled so we got the okay to go home.”

You both are finally calm , and now both equally drained.

“Give me a hug, dammit!” You sleepily smile and quickly bury yourself in his chest. His arms snake around your waist and you suddenly feel like you are home.

“I missed you so much Shoyo.” You squeezed him a little tighter.

“I missed you too.” Hinata kisses the crown of your head before ruffling it. You pull back in faux annoyance and take a good look at him.

He was tanner for sure, and had the tiniest bit of stubble that grazed his face. But his dark circles under his eyes were most prominent. He looked exhausted and the mini heart attack earlier probably didn’t help either. You place a small kiss to his lips before pulling him to your shared bed. Hinata threw off his hoodie and kicked off his shoes and quite literally flopped into bed. You slide into your side of the bed and he pulls himself to be in between your legs; head resting on your chest. You brushed his red fluff of hair out of his face and his eyes fluttered closed. He mumbled something of an ‘I love you’ into your chest and he was out like a light. With a soft kiss on his forehead, you got comfy and fell asleep too. With the comfort of your husband- to- be wrapped around your body.

[fenristheorem]

Hello!

I was wondering if you could write headcanons for Lance during episode 26? Maybe the most significant moments in the chapter but from his perspective and how he felt

Hello there! This is such an interesting ask! I've always considered what Lance may have been thinking through episode 26, but I honestly never actually thought too deep on it. I hope at some point Beemoov gives us a long conversation between Guardienne and Lance in ANE that talks about his perspective in that episode...

Also, sorry this took so long to write. Tumblr ate this ask a few times and spit it back out (I guess it didn’t taste right lol) so I’ve been inconsistent on when I could work on it. Then I somehow ended up re-writing one specific part of this three times over so I had to figure out how to combine all of that information and edit it properly. And then Tumblr freaked out on me and deleted some recent edits - twice - but fortunately I remembered what I did so it didn’t take too long to re-write it. This may also be the longest headcanon I’ve written so far lol. The ask had one hell of a journey in it’s making but I think I love it even more because of that. 😂

~Below the cut~

Lance's POV in episode 26:

Oh how enthralling it was to have Guardienne on his ship! Not only was she his ticket to escape, and a prized asset - therefore collateral - for the guard, but she knew how to access the dragons. He would find his people by using her knowledge.

He knew she had spirit, but he considered sometimes that perhaps he should have thought a little harder on ways to get her to shut up and obey him. He certainly loved the thrill of banter and having her break her persona of peace for him, but by the Oracle was she irritating sometimes. Of course, he already knew she was also pretty amusing as well, with her wild thought processes and ideas. She could have been a bit friendlier with his kraken though... 

He wasn't sure if he was surprised by how blunt Guardienne was at times. He had chosen the site in the forest because of its tactical advantage, but when she revealed her bad experience with that area, he could do nothing but apologize. She wasn’t trying to provoke him or stand in the way of his plans at the moment - it was a bad memory for her - so Lance understood her distress at staying there and didn’t wish to put her in further distress. There was no way that they were moving camp though.

Lance had her show him the island, and he was nearly surprised when she didn't try to escape. His attention was held by the ruins for most of the time; she could have tried to slip away thinking he was distracted. He was also quite surprised when she didn’t try to throw him off the cliff - it was the perfect opportunity, but she didn’t even seem like jumping at the chance.

Later on, when Guardienne talked with his mercenaries late at night, he tried to get a read on her. She seemed so unhappy stuck on the island with him, and yet she was so persistent on talking to his followers. She seemed to hate Lance, and yet she was so determined to understand why others decided to follow him. This sent his head spinning. Was she interested in joining him? Certainly not. Was she just curious? Most likely, but the typical person in her situation makes a point to not talk to those who hold them hostage...

He wakes her early in the morning, eager to find the gateway to his people, but his excitement drops when he realizes that Guardienne is in no mood to help him. She had been promising her resistance for many days, why did he expect any different?

This pissed him off of course; he was so close to finding his people and now he had to find a way to get her to comply. Threatening her didn't work too well, but she decided to lead him somewhere anyways. They go towards the library ruins and she leads him through a dark corridor that opens up into a room of alchemical concoctions, cages, and blood spattered walls before stopping. Lance knows immediately that she’s mislead him.

He turns on her, raw fury bleeding into him and coursing within his bones until he’s sure he’ll kill her. However, out of kindness and mercy, he gives her a second chance to show him to the dragons.

Lance didn’t know what he was expecting really, of course she would deny him again. So he takes her to the cliff to threaten her - and then those closest to her once he realizes she won’t crack. He really didn’t want to do this, he wanted things to go smoothly with little damage done, but more than that; he wanted to talk with his people.

She finally gives in and takes him towards the Door of the Dragons, but he nearly throws himself at her when they step into the library ruins again. However, she leads him a different way this time, and he can feel it in his bones that they’re heading the right way as they get closer.

Finally he witnesses the first monument of his people: the doors to their realm.

There’s a weight that settles on his chest and shoulders - after all these years wondering, searching, fighting to reach his people, he’s finally made it. Suddenly he’s aware of the blood surging through his veins, his breathing sharpens and the door is all he can look at.

He knows he's trembling as he reaches to brush his fingertips across the etchings in the stone doors, and he knows that she sees that as well, but he doesn't pay mind to it. In that moment, all that mattered is that he's finally among his people - the ghosts of them at least. 

He snaps himself out of the awe the grand doors put him in, turning to Guardienne and requesting her to show him how the doors open. She does as told - finally - but the doors don't open... 

Oh like hell he was going to deal with her shit now that's he's this close to knowing his people. She wasn't an issue before, but now she's standing directly between him and his people.

He turns on her again, his blood burning hot and arctic cold at the same time, but she's already explaining that they repeated the ritual the same way as last time. But perhaps...  the moon could be an issue?

He's impatient again - there's no way they can stay on that island until the next full moon. Fortunately he brought a few toys to help... 

Some time later, after many different attempts to open the door forcefully - all failed and leaving not even a scratch on the ancient stone - Guardienne comes bolting into the room screeching like a psychopath. As if it weren't bad enough that the doors aren't opening, now he has her to deal with again... 

He's irritated but holds himself well - there's still the battering ram that may work. 

Of course, Guardienne cuts in again, spitting wrath at him about his people and how much of an idiot he is. He humors her a bit, playing the hurt card (even though some bit of it holds true in some ways), and finding his own amusement when she thinks she actually hurt his feelings. Goodness she can be so adorable to fuck with. 

The Draflayels come when night falls, drifting in the air with musical trills. Guardienne has found herself entranced at the beauty, but Lance seeths. How dare these creatures mimic his people? How dare they act as a replacement for the dragons?

She stops him as he goes to cut them down, saying that they'll show them something important. If he weren't so desperate to speak with his people... 

He lets her lead him to the cliff, following the vile creatures as Lance glares at them, and they gather in sparkling clusters around them, singing their songs the whole time. Lance tenses his whole body and trembles - what he wouldn't do to get rid of these creatures - but then Guardienne steps into the cloud of Draflayels and begins... dancing?

He relaxes faintly, suddenly taken by surprise and slipping into hesitant curiosity as she twirls with the companions. She was so... happy, and carefree. How could she be this joyful with these useless creatures? Didn't she understand that they exist only from the sacrificial genocide of a grand race?

But she still dances with them, entranced by their harmony and twirls, and he's entranced by her as he watches her, careless and free, reminding him of the days where he was like that. 

Wasn't it tiring? To be so cold and hateful for so long?

Didn't he miss the days where he ran free and proud, fighting valiantly alongside his brother?

Pain sparks in his chest as he watches her, his face betraying no emotions but the clawing agony welled in his chest and left him breathless all the same. He did miss it... 

The Draflayels disperse and Guardienne backs away - straight into him. She's startled for a moment as she looks into his eyes, but he makes it clear that he's no threat.

As he stares at her, a different emotion stirs within him - a wistful wishing, whispered admiration, ghosts of jealousy and bittersweet knowing. She was so beautiful and happy, and he wanted to have that again as well, but he never could - not with everything he knows now. 

Brilliant blue essence swam through the air, and Lance quickly turned his attention to it. A ghost appeared - one of his people - and spoke in a grand, cavernous voice to him. Guardienne - and all he once wished for - forgotten, he stepped forward to pursue his chosen path. 

He had to argue to be allowed in sooner, but Lance regretted nothing when he was finally standing in front of the Door to the Dragons again, this time being welcomed in as family. However, he hesitated as he stared into the grand doorway; what information would he find hidden within this realm?

He allowed himself to spare a moment to think about his family... he would avenge them, with every bit of brittle, exhausted energy he had, he would avenge them. His heart twisted as he fell among them. These dragons were family... 

Fafnir shows him around, and he keeps an eye on Guardienne the whole time - she could attempt to run away. But he wants her to like the dragons and their realm as well, so he keeps an eye on her for her well-being also. She did help him after all... 

He argues with Fafnir much of the time, not understanding why the dragon is so steady and accepting about the destruction of their race. Fafnir is calm the whole time, a stable boulder underneath the rush of icy water that was Lance's opinions and emotions. He seemed so sure that Lance would change his mind about his quest for revenge, and even as Lance argues that, Fafnir still continues to show them around.

Fafnir mentions his mother not too long after, noting the similarities between them, and Lance is taken off guard. What would his mother think of him? What did Fafnir want him to know about his mother? Was it true that they were so similar? Would he be able to meet her ghost?

They continue their tour, and Lance knows immediately when Guardienne becomes uncomfortable as they step into the lava realm. Every change in her body language tells that she feels like she's drowning in heat, so he provides a layer of cooled air for her. Whether or not she wanted to, she provided him with invaluable help and remains invaluable as long as the guard is after him, so he might as well try to make her comfortable with him... 

As she recovers and looks around, pride blooms in Lance’s chest. This may be the lava realm, but she had a right to stare in admiration at one of the realms of his people. The glitter in her eyes and awe on her face were enough to tell him that she thinks the world of the strange realm, and curiosity suddenly sparks in Lance. She hasn’t seen firsthand the power of the dragons; him and his brother are the only ones she’s been around enough to witness anything, and his brother doesn’t know how to evoke his abilities... What would she think about Lance’s abilities? Would she stare at him with the same look of awe and curiosity?

Lance dismisses his thoughts and probes Fafnir for information on his parents again - first discovering his father's element - but the ancient ghost hesitates when he begins to speak of Tia. Silence fills the air for only a moment before Lance yells at Fafnir to answer his rest of his question.

An ice dragon...

Fafnir compares him to his mother again, and once again Lance is taken off guard. Was he really that similar to his mother?

Lance begins to dig further into the reasoning for their sacrifice, and this only leads down a long path of arguing between him and Fafnir until the ghost finally snaps. They're brought to another location within their realm and Fafnir begins to question Lance's decision of partnering with the demon. Lance is nearly surprised when Fafnir doesn't ask who it is, but the solid weight of... shame? lands on his chest and shoulders as Fafnir seems to scold him for creating a pact with the demon.

So Fafnir knew about that then... 

This shame was short-lived, though, before Lance quickly jumped to defend himself and explain the wrongs done to their kind and the foolish decision they made.

Fafnir eventually snapped and Lance quieted, feeling overwhelming irritation at the ancient dragon’s persistence. There was a rift forming that Lance could feel - an expanse hollowing out between him and Fafnir as he withdrew from Fafnir’s knowledge.

Lance watched as Fafnir created a sphere, faint images flickering within, and he was told to walk into the sphere if he wanted to understand the dragons’ decision. He hesitated, suddenly unsure if he wanted to understand in the first place. What if all of this was for nothing? Why would his people - upheld with such esteem within himself and around Eldarya - purposefully make such a foolish decision if it wasn’t forced?

Guardienne snaps him out of his thoughts and overwhelming anxiety, encouraging him to step into the sphere to find the answers to his questions. He hesitates further, but follows her as she steps into the sphere. Lance knew she was right; he came here to find answers, and Fafnir was giving him answers.

Lance isn’t very interested in where the sphere takes them to - it’s the dark-skinned woman who appears that catches his interest. She was talking to a man, pale skin and hair, and Lance quickly caught on to what he was seeing.

His mother and father... 

Shocks freezes him and quivers through his body as his throat constricts. He calls out to them. Was he finally meeting his parents? Would they recognize him? Would he be welcomed home by them?

Fafnir quickly explains that they’re only a memory - that they can’t hear him - and Lance’s emotions collapse in on himself. He wouldn’t be welcomed, they probably wouldn’t know who he is, he was left without a family because of the sacrifice and it will remain like that. Pain and rejection hits him in a crushing wave; he finally met his parents, but they’re not even aware of him.

Regardless, he follows them as they fly off, desperately seeking just another second with them - just another facet of information that he could learn from them.

At the cliff, witnessing his mother’s own temper, Fafnir once again compares him to his mother. Lance retaliates again, not wishing for Fafnir to speak so fondly of him or his mother. He could barely stand the idea of not knowing her, but knowing how similar they are and yet not knowing anything about her bothered him in ways that left a yawning hole in his chest.

He starts to think things over - his people willingly sacrificed themselves, but certainly his mother must have known better! She must have been forced by her people! Fafnir agrees that she didn’t agree to the decision, but claims that she still did so of her own free will. In a thunderous state of denial and anger, Lance turns and storms off. He can’t believe that his own mother just abandoned him to sacrifice herself for a decision she didn’t agree with. It doesn’t make any sense!

Fafnir chases him down and, despite his anger, Lance agrees to keep exploring his mother’s past.

They follow Tia to the doorways within the Dragon Realm, where she talks with Fafnir. As much as Lance wishes to ignore it, he notices that her aggressiveness does mirror his own.

His thoughts wander about his mother for a bit while Guardienne and Fafnir talk, until Lance finally has enough with waiting and interrupts to continue on.

Fafnir takes them to the Council Room now, where they see discussion of the Blue Sacrifice taking place. Many arguments take place until Fafnir finally tells him that Tia kept looking for another solution - to no avail.

He’s silent now as Guardienne and Fafnir talk again. Everything tells him that this was the only solution, that the dragons had to do this, that there was no better way, but he couldn’t accept it. If that was true then everything he did was for nothing... If that was true then there was no need to avenge their deaths because it was their own choice...

A cavern of something similar to dread forms within his chest as he wonders if he set out to wage a pointless war, almost afraid of knowing if this was truth. He couldn’t be in the wrong, right? They were his people, certainly they could have thought of something else... right?

Fafnir calls out to make sure he’s ok before suggesting a break, and Lance finds himself nearly running from the memories - almost regretting learning everything he knows and hoping to leave it all behind alongside the confused assortment of emotions that nearly breaks his sanity. It was so much easier when he thought they didn’t have a choice...

He flees to the old camp area and Guardienne follows before calling out to him, asking if he’s alright. He’s heavily shocked when she explains that she does care about him, despite the assumption that he hates her.

After everything he’s done, why would she care? Does she think this will stop him?

She avoids his conflicted gaze before he turns and walks away. He needed time to think everything over; the sacrifices, his parents, even Guardienne’s sudden change in demeanor towards him. Nothing makes sense to him anymore.

Lance realizes that she's not following him. He turns and asks if she’s coming or not. One would think if she’s so worried about him, she would actually bother to follow him.

He wanders aimlessly for a while, not knowing where he wishes to go, but eventually finds himself at the cliff when Guardienne asks if he’d like to talk. Lance turns on her; he’s not in the mood for her to play false nice with him. He knows she hates him.

Guardienne contradicts that, though, claiming instead that she hates his actions but has faith that he can be good again.

Was she right? Was there some possibility of redemption? Did he even want redemption? What about everything he’s done to get to this point? Was any of it even worth it anymore?

Confused questions flood his mind in tidal waves until he nearly has a headache. Hesitantly, he begins to open up to Guardienne. If there was some chance that she could understand. If there was some chance she could help him understand...

He seeks her opinion on why his mother left him and Valk to the world instead of sacrificing them, and Guardienne explains that it’s normal that a mother would want her children to reap the benefits of her actions. Lance says he would have rather died.

Guardienne pauses at this, surprise flitting over her features and she goes to comfort him, asking why this is all so important for him.

Why is it all so important? He’s so confused, unfamiliar with these doubtful emotions now sweeping through him. Why was any of this important? What does he do now? Is everything he learned really true? Would his people actually be ashamed of him knowing he’s hurt others in their name?

She offers an ear to listen to his troubles, and as much as he doesn’t wish to confide in her, he does so anyways. He doesn’t know what else to do.

Guardienne is quiet as he explains their birth and the village, and he relaxes and allows himself to soften - just a bit. It was... nice to finally have someone to talk to. It’s been so long since someone actually sought to truly understand him...

This calm is broken when he speaks of the kind people who raised them - and Guardienne speaks up to explain that every world will have good people and bad. Lance turns on her in anger; what would she know about good and bad? She hasn’t needed to hide her nature because of others! She hasn’t needed to learn about the sacrifice of her people for the sake of these people! She hasn’t needed to suffer her whole life the way he has!

He explodes in anger, forcing himself to take a moment to cool off as Guardienne watches with a conflicted expression, and then turns back to her to reveal the horror of the Guard and faeries hunting down the dragons who survived the sacrifice.

He’s nearly happy when she reels back in disgust, refusing to believe that the faeries could have done something that terrible, but it was true all the same, no matter how hard she refused to believe it.

Lance turns away again - he needs to know more. He needs to know why him and his brother were abandoned to this world alone.

He manages to track down Fafnir and demands to know why, but the only response he receives is to follow and see for himself. They go back and forth, Fafnir pressuring him to witness the memories again while Lance argues it. He can’t see it again, he couldn’t bear seeing the past through memories...

Guardienne startles him when she lays a hand on his forearm.

Why was she doing that? Why did she care this much? What’s the reason for any of this?

She tells him that he needs to keep exploring his mother’s past if he wants to understand and find his answers, and while he doesn’t want to do that anymore - he can’t possibly do that again - he knows she’s right. It’s the only thing he can do right now in the mess of emotions he’s feeling. Guardienne promises that she’ll stay by his side the whole time, but that doesn’t help as she was probably hoping it would. Why is it comforting that she’s promising to stay by his side - he should be irritated at that thought!

Lance agrees, feeling more lost than ever, and ghosts back to the past memories alongside Fafnir and Guardienne with no further argument.

The Blue Sacrifice was being held soon, countless dragons sprawling across the land and swooping through the sky as Tia talked with Fafnir... about a pregnancy test. She doesn’t want to sacrifice her children with her. Then she speaks of her sons - that she had seen them.

She’s seen him and his brother before, can name their hair and eye color, and she thought they were... beautiful.

Lance watches intently as the memory plays out but he still has questions. She could have stayed with them if she had the choice, why didn’t she stay with them?

Fafnir further explains what happens after that - his mother and father leaving for a while and then returning to carry through with the sacrifice - but Lance’s thoughts are still scattered, and he demands that he sees his parents’ final moments. He needed to see everything in order to believe this...

They return to the pathway where the sacrifice will take place. Many different races are gathered, paying their respects to the dragons, and Fafnir points their attention to another group talking to his mother. Humans.

Lance is subtly shocked; why were they there? And why are they so close with his mother? 

Fafnir says that they’re family; his uncle had fallen in love with a human, and Tia was hugging his cousin.

He has humans in his close family!? And they had children... Him and his brother weren’t the only dragons then! But Fafnir explains that they’re weakened due to the dilution of the genetics.

Lance doesn’t know how he feels about this. Was he nearly happy that he had surviving family - even if they were human? Were they really considered human in that case, or dragon? Should he be happy that those humans can’t compare their power to his because of their weakened genetics?

Lance is confused about himself again, shifting into anger at the realization that he’s thinking this only because of what happened; his closest living family is humans, and they’re only alive because they couldn’t have been hunted down by the Eldaryans. Fafnir tries to compare this to Guardienne and speaks of her angel genetics.

An angel?

Lance is truly surprised at this; she’s an angel? He has an angel in his clutches?

Fafnir seems shocked that Lance didn’t know, but the ice dragon is busy turning to Guardienne, many of his other questions now being answered. A wave of painful anger hits him, and he feels... jealous? That demon got to spend every day around this female angel - of course he’d be interested in her; they could attempt a revival of their race!

He had said to much. Lance collapses, pain wracking his body as he heaves for breath and clutches at his chest. The pact they made knew he had said too much. His vision fades into black and the last thing he hears is Fafnir telling Guardienne to help him bring Lance back to the real world...

Lance wakes... alone. Why was he alone? Where was the angel!?

He bolts up, cold burning anger flooding through his veins. After all he said to her! After he explained his past and reasoning for this war! After she promised she would stay by his side! She goes and tries to run away!

He quickly finds her urgently walking around - probably looking for some way off this island - and he approaches her in blind anger as she shrinks in front of him. He was glad, pleased, that she was terrified. She should be scared!

Lance can’t keep himself from yelling as he advances on her and draws his sword. He’s been so nice to her up until now, but that time is now long since passed. She cringes as he raises his sword... and stabs it into the ground next to her. Why did he find himself unable to do this?

Guardienne quickly begins to explain her reason for leaving, but he cuts her off. It doesn’t matter why she left - there was no way he could trust her on any account anymore. Of course she would try to escape, she’s still a hostage. He feels foolish for ever having believed she could possibly care for him.

He grabs her wrist and heads back to find Fafnir, thanking him for sharing his energy to strengthen him again. The ancient ghost asks if he understands everything now, and Lance admits that he doesn’t, but he does realize something important now - family needs to defend and stay with family, so he needs Valk with him.

Before anything else can happen the energy of the islands shifts - he can feel it and he knows Fafnir feels it too.

They have visitors, and it’s the guard.

Time is up, Lance realizes, and he quickly takes hold of Guardienne and drags her with him to the beach shores to find a horrific sight awaiting. 

There are many boats sailing towards the island - too many for the kraken to take on. Lance realizes that he needs defense lines and orders Orion and his mercenaries to hold the guard back. He needs to find a good place for them to be found at if the guard gets past his lines.

Hints of panic start to crack his steady thoughts - they’re surrounded with no direct way off this island, and how the hell does he get his brother on his side!?

The angel; the thing they came here for! She’s his bargaining chip!

But she’s intent on not making this easy. She spits bitter truths at him that he doesn’t want to hear but knows it true all the same, and he turns on her to shut her up. 

He paces around the island with her as the sounds of the battle rage on at the shore and she kicks at him, unbalancing him and tearing herself away as he regains his balance with pain shooting up his leg. Lance doesn’t let her go very far, though. He evokes his powers, pulling her back to him and snapping at her as he drags her around again, heading towards to cliff.

The roar of the waves is drowned out as Lance scans the cliff with screeching thoughts, finding no coverage and then choosing to place himself with her at the edge of the cliff. There’s nowhere else to hide, nowhere he can set traps for the guard, nowhere he can keep her while he attempts to fight off the guard - or even better; bargain with them for Valkyon. He can only stand here and brace himself.

Finally they arrive, and Lance calls to them to stop when they’re a comfortable distance away, holding Guardienne to the cliff for leverage. They stop, but his brother tries to convince him to let her go. Guardienne calls back, but Lance is tried of hearing her input and quickly shuts her up. This was between him and the guard, and if she convinces them to not worry about her, he’ll lose his bargaining chip.

As soon as everything is silent Lance begins to speak, calling out for his brother to join him - but he resists of course, and offers the opposite instead. Lance explains that the guard will kill him in no time, and his brother quickly gives in after that; choosing to join Lance as long as Guardienne is let go.

Just as he had hoped for.

He’s not even bothered as Guardienne cries out anymore, and lets go of her as soon as Valk asks - but he’s sure to keep her trapped on that ledge with a wall of energy. He knew if he just let her go they would attack him, so he assured his safety by keeping her at risk.

They say their tragic goodbyes and Lance rests a hand on his brother’s shoulder as they walk away, elated at the fact that he has his brother with him now. Things are exactly as they should have been since the beginning of this war.

He can hear Guardienne arguing with the others as they walk away, and when they’re a safe distance he drops the wall... letting it take the cliff she was standing on with it as it crumbled away to submerge into the surging tides below. She was no longer needed and it would be better if she were gone now, or at very least it’ll delay the guard from following him and his brother as they make their escape.

Lance learned many lessons from that journey - many things that were useful, and some that were... complicated, and he intended to use all of this to his advantage.

I hope you like this! I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again; this ask went through hell and back from Tumblr in it’s creation process, but I love it even more because of the quirks I encountered.

Thank you for asking!

Have a request? Ask them here!

But first, please read the rules list for asks!

[firefly464]

The Real World - Chapter 11

Ok so this ones a bit more of a slightly slower chapter and kinda does a bit more world building sooooo yeah. BUT ALSO THERES SOME WHOLESOME FRIENDSHIP MOMENTS SO THATS GOOD

Made in collaboration with @i-have-this-now​ Thank you to @rivys​ for beta reading and editing!

Master Post

First - Previous - Next

~~~

Silence. Complete and total silence fell over the call as both Tubbo and Wilbur tried to process what Tommy was saying. The moment was tense, and loaded with unanswered questions. 

“Fuck…” Wilbur muttered. He didn’t know what else to say. He was in a state of shock. What was he supposed to do? He had just learned that two of his friends were trapped in another dimension, and that said dimension was going to be destroyed because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. 

“Yeah. I feel like that sums it up pretty well.” Tommy had no idea what he was supposed to be doing, or even feeling. There were so many emotions raging through his mind. Anger at Wilbur for talking to Dream. Relief that Tubbo and Wilbur weren’t screaming at him. Fear that his home was going to be destroyed.

God, he was sick of being afraid. He had felt nothing but fear and terror for a week straight, and thought that he had grown numb to it. He had thought wrong. The raw terror that coursed through his veins in that moment was nothing like he had ever felt before. It was cold and numbing. It made him want to just crawl into his bed and lay there. He felt completely and unbelievably hopeless. At least during the war there had been a small sliver of hope. A tiny beacon of light in all the darkness. It had been what kept him going. Now, there was nothing. He had no way of fighting back. No way of even contacting his friends and seeing if they were safe. He hated it.

“So. What’s the plan?” Tubbo’s voice shook Tommy from his intrusive thoughts. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for Tubbo’s optimism, despite the fact that he knew it was hopeless. “How are we gonna stop him?” 

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice quiet. 

“We’re not just going to let him kill all those people, right? There's gotta be something we can do. Some way that we can stop him.”

“Tubbo, I-” “No, he’s right.” Will interjected. “We aren’t just going to sit around and do nothing. Besides, if what you said is true, then our Tommy and Dream are stuck there as well. We’re not just going to let them die.” 

“You guys don’t get it, do you…?” Tommy muttered. He knew his friends were trying their best, but the hopelessness of the situation was suffocating. It was like he was standing in a pool of quicksand, slowly being dragged down. Each time he struggled and tried to resist, he was only dragged down farther. He was tired of fighting it. “You can’t stop him. We don’t even know where he is.” Tubbo was silent for a moment. “What if we switched you guys back? We could figure out the command that swapped you in the first place and just run it again.”

“I mean, you can try. But wouldn’t you need Dream’s computer?” 

A sly grin spread across Tubbo’s face. “Who says I need access to his computer to access the server? Just give me a few minutes.” The sound of typing echoed through Tommy’s headphones.

He frowned, confused as to what was going on. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to access the server.” He didn’t offer any more information.

“While he’s doing that, maybe you could tell us more about what happened to you. How did you even end up involved with Dream? From the sounds of it, he's fucking terrifying,” Wilbur asked. He figured that the more they knew about what was going on, the easier it would be to try and solve their issue. 

“I… He used to disappear for really long periods of time. Eventually I got curious. I saw him leaving and tried to follow. He caught me pretty quickly. He… he said that he would kill everyone in L’Manberg if I didn’t go with him and do what he said.”

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed. That didn’t make any sense. Why on earth would Dream force Tommy to go with him if he hadn’t gone far? Something wasn’t adding up. “What-”

“I’M IN!” Tubbo yelled out, cutting off Will’s question. 

“You’re in?” Tommy asked.

“I have access to the server.” Tubbo explained. “Maybe I can try and contact them.”

“Wait, what do you mean you have access to the server?” Wilbur said.

“I have the console open, wait- here.” Tubbo started sharing his screen on Discord. 

A black background filled with white text that neither Wilbur nor Tommy could understand appeared on the screen. It was filled with coordinates and commands that were constantly being updated every couple of seconds. A waterfall of white text was filling Tubbo’s screen. He could see a grayed out command that read ‘/msg TommyInnit hello?’.

“Hey, wait a second,” Wilbur said. “Tubbo’s commands aren’t working.”

“Do you think it could be some sort of activation key?” Tommy asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

“...Exactly. How did you know?” Tubbo asked.

“I think I may know where that is.”

~~~

“What the fuck?” Tommy held the wooden bow in his hands, staring at the blinking light. “Have either of you ever seen this kinda thing before?”

“Why the hell would I know anything? I’ve been here as long as you have,” Dream remarked as he took another drink from the glass bottle. 

“I dunno, maybe because you’re the server owner?”

“Just because I’m the server owner doesn’t mean I know what's happening.” 

“Well, maybe you should.”

Dream only rolled his eyes. Tubbo squirmed a bit. Seeing Dream acting so casual was… unnerving. The lack of a mask only made it ten times worse. Until an hour ago, he had never even seen the man’s face. It was always just the blank mask, cold and emotionless. Seeing the raw emotions on his face was somehow scarier than not seeing them at all. A shudder ran down his spine. 

“Tubbo? Any ideas?” 

Tubbo jumped slightly, caught off guard by the sudden question. “Huh? O-oh! No, I don’t know. Sorry man, I’ve never seen anything like this before.” 

A sigh escaped him as he ran a hand over the leather wrapped grip. The blinking light stared up at him, almost taunting him in a way. That was when he felt it. A small raised section of the grip, right where his finger would sit if he were holding it normally. He frowned. “what the fuck?” 

“What? What is it?” Dream asked quickly. 

“I dunno. It’s just a weird bump…”

“Oh. That's it? It's probably just from the other Tommy making his bow wrong or something.” 

Tubbo shook his head, quick to defend his best friend. “No… Tommy was really good at making weapons. He wouldn’t have done something like that. It’s not like him.” 

Tommy’s brow furrowed as he ran his finger over the strange button. On a whim, he pressed down. 

A scream was torn from his throat as a robotic voice played in his ears. “Hello?” it said. 

“What the fuck?!” 

“Tommy?! Tommy are you ok?! What happened?!” Tubbo was instantly on his feet, trying to check on his friend. His instincts kicked in. Everything that had kept him and his friends alive during the war came rushing back to him as he frantically checked Tommy for any wounds or injuries. Nothing. No visible cuts or bruises. Maybe it was mental? Or a type of potion. Or maybe even- 

“Tubbo, Tubbo! I’m fine! I promise. Just a bit startled.” Tommy’s voice brought his train of thought to an abrupt halt. Tubbo sat back down, his face burning with shame. 

Dream stared at them in concern. “What happened?”

“Did you not hear it?” he furrowed his brow, trying to put the pieces together.

“Hear what?” 

“That weird voice thingy. I pressed the little button and the robot lady started talking.”

“You’re hearing voices now? Are you alright?” 

“Yes, Dream! I’m fine!” he cried out in exasperation. The blinking light on the grip of the bow had gone dark, leaving nothing but a regular wooden bow.

~~~

“How do you even know that they’re in your world?” Wilbur asked. Tubbo had already set the command in the server, and now the three of them were just waiting for some sort of results. Now, they were all just sitting around, trying to get more answers out of Tommy. “I mean, for all we know they could be floating out in the empty void of nothing.”

“No, I’m sure that your Tommy and Dream are in my world. Dream seemed really confident about it. He said something about it already being tested or whatever. 

“Tested? Tested on what?”

“I don’t know. He never told me. All he said was that the test had worked.”

“Alright, I’m just gonna be the one to say it, thats sketchy as fuck.” Tommy couldn’t help but jump. Tubbo had been so quiet while they were talking, he had forgotten that he was even there. “I mean, I get that he’s a sketchy guy, but that's just weird.”

Tommy took a deep breath to try and calm his racing heart. “Yeah… It really is. I learned pretty quickly not to question him though. He was fucking terifying whenever he got asked too many questions.” A shudder ran down his spine as he remembered the blank, emotionless mask. God, he hated that fucking mask. Every night, he was plagued with nightmares about it. 

“Tubbo, I think your command went through” Wilbur said, his voice cutting through the fog that was starting to build in Tommy’s mind. He looked at the screen. Sure enough, the grayed out text was now gone, replaced with a blank text box. 

“Someone must have found the trigger. Hopefully it was your Tommy and Dream. I’m not sure what would happen if someone else managed to get their hands on it.” 

“Either way, it should have only sent the message to Tommy, right?” Tubbo asked.

“I don’t fucking know. I wasn’t allowed anywhere near the console.”

“Probably because you’re a little gremlin child.” Will couldn’t help but make the snide comment. Maybe he just wanted to pretend, if only for a moment that nothing had changed. Maybe he was searching for a way to lighten the mood. He wasn’t sure. 

Either way, the comment earned him a cry of protest. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?!” 

“It means that you are a little gremlin boy. What else would it mean?” Despite his best attempts, he couldn’t quite keep the smile out of his voice.

“Alright, you son of a bitch, you listen here. I could beat your fucking ass in a fight, no questions asked.” Despite the harsh words, Tommy couldn’t help but grin. The friendly banter was familiar to him, and he couldn’t help but be thankful for it. In a world where everything was strange and foreign, it felt nice to have something that stayed consistent. 

“Oh yeah? Prove it”

“Alright. Next time I see you, how about we 1v1? Me versus you.” “Uh, I don’t think that's a really good idea,” Tubbo interjected.

“What? Why not? I’ve beaten him before, I’ll do it again.” Tommy’s voice was dripping with confidence. He may not have been nearly as strong here as he was back in his home world, but he still knew how to fight. Not to mention, he had spent most of the past week trying to get his strength back. 

“I don’t doubt it, it’s just that fighting someone is generally considered not good here”

“Are you serious? That's so lame! Back at home we used to spar all the time!” 

“Yeah, not here. Unless you’re in a fighting style sport, sparring just isn’t something that you do here” 

“Ughhhh, that’s so dumb.” he grumbled.

“So, uh, what’s the plan now?” Tubbo asked. On the screen, another /msg command was pulled up, ready to be sent. The message section itself was blank, but it was clear that Tubbo was itching to try and communicate with his best friend. 

“We just input the command, right? We swap you back, you guys could go home, and we get our Tommy and Dream back. Boom, problem solved.” Wilbur couldn’t help but feel slightly confused. Hadn’t that been the plan from the start? 

“I uh… I don’t know the command that he used,” Tommy admitted. 

“Fuck.”  The three sat in silence, trying to figure out what to do. Tommy couldn’t help but feel like hopelessness starting to drag him down again, pulling him down into the pit of quicksand. 

“What if we brought them to the console? That way they could actually respond and we might be able to come up with some sort of plan?” Tubbo suggested. 

He weighed his options. On one hand, it was the best bet they had. Hell, he was about 99 percent sure that Dream would have left some sort of clue as to what the command was, if only because he enjoyed the thrill of the danger. On the other, who knew what kind of trap Dream had set up. Knowing him, he would have expected them to do exactly this. No. No he couldn’t think like that. This was their one chance. It was his only chance at saving his home, at saving his friends. 

Swallowing his fear, he nodded. “Yeah. Alright, that sounds good.” 

~~~

“What the fuck?! Why is it blinking again?!” The small red light was back, blinking up at the blonde teenager annoyingly. 

“Press the button again?” Dream offered helpfully. 

“What? No! I’m not pressing that fucking button again! You press it if you’re so curious!” he tossed the bow onto the table carelessly, the loud noise making Tubbo flinch. 

Dream grabbed the weapon and looked over it. “Alright, maybe I will. Where did you say it was?” 

“On the grip, right next to the little light. It's really small though, you have to feel it.” 

“Got it!” with a soft click, Dream pressed down on the button. 

Instantly, the robotic voice echoed through Tommy’s mind once more. The voice was cold and metallic, with no emotion whatsoever. It reminded Tommy of pretty much every computer generated voice he had ever heard, only this time, it echoed through his skull. He could feel his teeth vibrating from the sheer volume of it. His eyes shook, causing the world to vibrate and jitter. It reminded him of when the bell had been rung, only this time he was the only one could hear it. 

“Hey Tommy, it's Tubbo. This other Tommy just told me and Wilbur everything that’s been going on. Don’t worry, we’re gonna get you out of there, alright? Apparently the other Dream is going to really fuck everything up if we don’t stop him. And by that I mean he’s going to delete the server and most likely kill all of you and I really don’t want that to happen. So we’re gonna stop it!”

The voice continued for a bit, explaining what the plan was and where he and Dream needed to go, and Tommy did his best to keep track of Tubbo’s directions. “... Anyways, we really miss you man. I swear, we’re gonna figure something out and get you guys home. Yours truly, big T.” The voice stopped, and Tommy blinked. Tears pricked at his eyes.

He didn’t really understand what was going on, but he did understand one thing: there was hope. He might be able to go home. Tubbo and Wilbur were going to bring them home. 

~~~

Master Post

First - Previous - Next