#a smidge of angst ofc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pedrospatch · 4 months ago

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call it what it is

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: A disagreement over patrol duty leads to declarations that have been long overdue.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. established relationship. HEFTY AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and joel is 56). ellie and joel are fine bc i said so and they deserve nothing less. reader handles a rifle, joel’s a little too overprotective and almost seems controlling, but i promise he is not. well, maybe just a smidge. arguing, admission of feelings, joel miller says i love you (yes this is ooc, no i do not care bc i need this old man to tell me he loves me). angst, fluff. quite a bit of side character interaction before we get to joel and reader in the second half. the only physical description of reader is that she is shorter than joel. fair warning, i am quite rusty.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: hi hello. i have not shared a wip in over 2 months. i was going back and forth on whether or not i wanted to share a fic with so much going on but decided i wanted to get back to doing what i enjoy. that and ofc that new footage was a boost of inspo. i am sending so, so much love to anyone who happens to see this author note, whether you read this fic or just happen to see this note in passing whilst scrolling. i know things have been tough, but i am here with you. <3

Joel wakes with a gentle start. Yawning, he rolls over from his side onto his back, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as warm, golden sunlight filters into the bedroom through the sheer, white linen curtains drawn over the window. He stares up at the ceiling, his breathing slow, steady, and even. He’s still getting used to it, it seems. Waking this calmly, with a tranquil peace he had been so certain he would never in his life feel again. He knew it couldn’t be a mere coincidence the nightmares had all but stopped tormenting him in his sleep when the two of you stopped doing that awkward little tap dance around one another and began sharing a bed, a home, a life.

No more bolting upright in sheer panic in the middle of the night, heart pounding and drenched head to toe in a cold sweat. No more believing he’s failing in his sleep. No more waking up feeling like he’s lost something.

Even his dreams about Sarah had become so, so much more pleasant. Images of her in that field on that night were replaced by different memories, like watching her teammates dogpile her after she’d scored the winning goal in their soccer tournament, or the big, triumphant grin she’d flashed him over her chocolate milkshake as the pair sat in their usual corner booth at their favorite fifties-themed diner in Austin—much to Joel’s surprise, Sarah had politely declined her teammates’ invitation for pizza once the match ended, choosing to celebrate her victory with him. Just the two of them.

“Y’sure you don’t wanna go with your friends, kiddo?” he’d asked, raising an eyebrow. He had been certain she was approaching the age where she would start spending less and less time with her old man. “I wouldn’t mind, y’know.”

“Positive,” she had reassured him with a smile, looping her arm through his and leading him off the pitch. “I’d much rather be with you, dad.”

Rather than smelling metallic in his slumber, he smells the grass that stained her white and blue striped jersey. Her cheeks are smeared with dirt, not with crimson.

Stifling another loud yawn, Joel stretches his arm out over towards your side of the bed, his calloused fingers seeking the warmth and softness of your naked body—instead, all they find are empty sheets, cold and long abandoned. He turns his head, and as suspected, you are not laying there beside him. That’s hardly out of the ordinary. Out of the two of you, you were the early riser, up before the neighbors’ rooster even had the chance to sound the alarm. Joel knows how much you treasure your quiet mornings lounging on the porch swing he’d built for you as you watched the sunrise with a hot cup of coffee in hand. He often made a genuine effort to get up and join you, but lately, his patrol rotations had been all over the place thanks to a shortage of patrolmen. He found himself sleeping in whenever he had the chance, seeing as he never knew when he might have to work a damn double. Or maybe it was just his age catching up with him.

He checks the time and then rolls out of bed, groaning when his sore knees and his aching lower back protest his movement.

After taking a quick shower using whatever hot water the kid had left for him after her own shower—much to his annoyance, it was not very much—Joel brushes his teeth and gets dressed for the day before pulling on his boots and heading downstairs into the kitchen where he finds the culprit responsible for the cold downpour he’d been forced to wash himself under. Ellie’s sitting at the table, absentmindedly stirring her oatmeal around her bowl with her spoon as she flips through one of her comic books. Just as he’s about to greet her, he spots the clean, empty coffee pot on the kitchen counter and frowns. You hadn’t even made coffee yet?

Now, that—that is out of the ordinary.

“Where is she?” he asks.

“Well, good morning to you too, old man. Oh, I slept great, thanks for asking,” Ellie quips without looking up at him as she flips the page. She mumbles something under her breath he doesn’t quite catch, something like, and you get on my ass about my manners?

Rolling his eyes, Joel snorts in response and pads over to the coffee maker on the counter. He spoons in some of the grounds he’d traded for earlier that week into the reusable filter, pours in water from the tap, and turns it on to brew. He grabs two ceramic mugs from the wire dish rack beside the sink and sets them down on the counter. “She out back?” he questions, yanking the refrigerator door open—he tries to remember the little things, like how you enjoyed your coffee with a bit of milk as well as a dash of cinnamon, if you had the rations, or something to trade for the precious spice. He always made sure that you did.

“Nope.” Ellie shovels a spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth and adds thickly, “She went to get some eggs.”

Joel shoots her a look of disgust over his shoulder. “Jesus, Ellie! How many times do I gotta tell you? Don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s bad manners,” he scolds her, shaking his head. He turns his attention back to the refrigerator. As he reaches for the glass bottle of milk, he pauses and his eyebrows pull together in confusion when he sees the wicker basket on the top shelf. “Wait a minute.” He feels her stiffen in her chair. “Why the hell would she go get eggs when we’ve got a full basket of ‘em right here in the fridge?”

She clears her throat. “Oh, uh, my bad. I got confused. Think she said she was gonna go get more honey? Uh, I used the last of it to make my breakfast this morning and she, uh—she wanted some for her toast. You know, ‘cause she really likes putting honey on her toast,” she rambles before piling more oatmeal into her mouth.

Closing the refrigerator door, he turns to her, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as uneasiness settles deep in the pit of his stomach. “Ellie?”

There’s a momentary pause. “...yeah?”

This time, Joel doesn’t bother to chastise the teenager for talking with her mouth full. “Where is she?”

Ellie nervously swallows her food and holds up both of her hands. “Hey, I already fucking told you, man.”

“Look, I know you like the back of my own hand, kiddo. And I know damn good and well when you’re lying to me.” Joel crosses his arms over his chest. “Now tell me the truth. What do you know that I don’t?”

Groaning, Ellie sits back in her chair. “Ugh. She made me swear not to tell you! She’ll fucking strangle me if I do—”

“Yeah, well, not if I fuckin’ strangle you first myself,” he threatens her. “M’Serious, Ellie. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

“Alright, alright! Jesus,” she huffs. “She’s with Tommy. He’s been taking her out of town to do target practice in the mornings, just the two of them. She usually gets back to the house before you get up,” she admits.

Joel’s arms fall back to his sides, his shoulders tense. “And how long has this been goin’ on?” he asks, rigidly. There’s a sudden tightness inside his chest, a feeling he hasn’t felt it in a while, but is still all too familiar to him.

After Tommy spread the word around town that more people were needed for patrol duties, you’d expressed an interest in the role, but Joel had been all too quick to shut you down, telling you he didn’t want you stepping foot outside the community’s gates.

“No,” he’d said. “Not happenin’. S’too dangerous.”

“But Joel—”

“I said,” he lowered his voice. “No.”

He hadn’t offered you an explanation as to why he was against it, refused to give you one good, solid reason as to why it was acceptable for him to risk his own life to protect Jackson, but it wasn’t acceptable for you to do the same.

Joel hadn’t known how to tell you the truth. How he needed you far, far more than you needed him, how the mere thought of losing you, the best fucking thing that could have possibly happened to him since the world ended, made him feel like his heart was going to stop.

A few weeks had passed since then, and thankfully, you never brought it up to him again. You had lost interest in patrol duty. Or so he’d thought.

“How long has this been going on?” he repeats after a minute.

“C’mon, man! Haven’t I already snitched enough?”

“Ellie,” Joel bites out her name. “Tell me. How long?”

She sighs in defeat. “Two weeks? Maybe three?” When she notices the muscle in his jaw tick, she grimaces. “You do realize why she didn’t fucking tell you, right?”

“Don’t,” he warns her, sharply.

“I’m just saying,” Ellie mutters, peering down into her bowl.

Without another word, Joel angrily storms past her and straight out the front door, snatching up his rifle on the way. He heads straight for the stables, trying to ignore the anxiety flaring inside of his chest.

Focus.

Now, breathe in. And breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe...

You exhale as you slowly squeeze the trigger.

Y’squeeze it like you love it, you had been told by your reluctant instructor.

The round fires off into the distance and you swiftly grab the bolt handle, bringing it up, back, forward, and then down again. You pull the trigger once more, then repeat and continue firing one shot after the other for a total of five rounds.

The rifle’s recoil nearly sends you flying backwards, but a strong hand on your back keeps you nice and steady. That same hand then moves to your shoulder and gives you three firm taps.

“Alright, alright! Christ,” Tommy laughs. He withdraws his arm from around you and shakes his head. “Fuckin’ calm down, Annie Oakley.”

Picking up his binoculars, he rises to his feet and looks through the lens at the makeshift targets that he’d set up for you, three empty soup cans lined up in a row on top of a wooden fence about twenty-five yards away—your longest shooting distance to date.

“Well?” You don’t even bother masking your impatience as you lower the rifle, carefully propping the weapon up against the tree stump you’re perched behind. Rubbing your sore shoulder, you hope the kickback won’t leave a bruise. You wouldn’t know how to explain that to Joel. “How did I do?”

His response comes in the form of a long, low whistle.

There is no telling if that had been good whistle, or if it had been a bad one. You groan. Now was not the time for him to dick around. “Please tell me I got at least one of them?”

“You got ‘em all, actually.” Tommy replies, lowering the binoculars and peering down at you. There’s a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “Good job, kid.”

Kid? Not exactly a nickname one wants to be called by the brother of the much, much older man that they are romantically involved with. It’d taken Tommy months to accept your relationship with Joel, especially when you moved your things out of your unit and into his over the summer. Part of you wonders if him referring to you as a kid is simply his own subtle way of telling you—no, of reminding you, that he’s still not comfortable with it.

And perhaps he never would be.

After all, you had still been a teenager when you first arrived to Jackson a few years ago, stumbling upon the town just a few months shy of the twentieth birthday you weren’t sure you would survive long enough to see.

You were indeed a kid when you’d met Tommy Miller.

Were.

Scowling up at him, you snap, “I told you to stop calling me that. I’m not nineteen anymore, Tommy.”

Having read your mind, he gives you a small smile and acknowledges, “Yeah, you’re right. You definitely ain’t a kid anymore.” He offers you his hand and hoists you up to your feet. Before dropping your hand, he gives it an apologetic squeeze.

You relax a little and smile back at him. “Did I really get all three?”

Tommy nods. “You sure did. You’re a damn good shot. I gotta be honest with you—I didn’t expect you to be this fuckin’ good,” he admits sheepishly.

Chuckling, you scoff, “Thanks. I think.”

“It’s a compliment, sugar.” He winks and flashes you a lopsided grin. “In fact, I’d say my work here is done.”

“Great! So when are you putting me on the roster?”

His grin instantly vanishes. “Uh, listen. About that....”

He trails off, and your heart sinks a little.

Tommy wouldn’t back out of this now—would he?

“Oh, no. Don’t you dare go back on your word, Miller,” you say, lightly poking him in the chest. “We had a deal. You said if I did well enough, you’d think about it.”

He nods in agreement. “Exactly. Said I’d think about it. And I think that puttin’ you on the roster for patrol ain’t a good idea.”

Your mouth falls open. If he never had any intention of holding up his end of the bargain, then what had been the point of teaching you how to shoot?

You didn’t understand.

“You just said it yourself, I’m a great shot! I’m a good on horseback, too. I’m stealthy. I’m diligent. What more do you fucking need from me, Tommy?”

Tommy’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “Joel would fuckin’ murder me with his bare hands if I even thought about puttin’ you on patrol duty. Hell, he’d murder me just knowin’ we’re out here and I’m teachin’ you how to shoot. It’s a damn fuckin’ miracle he still hasn’t caught onto this, y’know.”

Shocked, your eyebrows shoot to your hairline. “This is about Joel? Are you serious?”

“‘Course it is.” He pauses. “Listen, now I know the three of us had our—differences—when he first told me ‘bout you two. Still takin’ me a bit of gettin’ used to, but I can see he’s real serious about you. I know my brother, and I know he won’t risk losin’ what’s most important to him. Ain’t no way in hell. He doesn’t want you out here and you know that as well as I do.” Tommy shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging as he shuffles his weight from one cowboy boot to the other. “Unless he’s alright with it, I ain’t gonna put you on the roster.”

For a moment, you’re at a complete loss for words.

Upon seeing the crestfallen expression on your face, he makes a suggestion. “You can try talkin’ to him ‘bout it again if it means that much to you. Ask him—”

“Ask?” You want to laugh. You almost do. “I’m an adult, Tommy. I don’t need his permission to do this. Or to do anything for that matter. Joel doesn’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

Tommy smiles wryly. “Well then, if that’s the case, why are we sneakin’ around and doin’ this behind his back?”

Your shoulders slump in defeat.

Because the ramifications could be disastrous.

Joel had made his stance on the matter abundantly clear, and yet here you were, deliberately disobeying him.

“Stumped you real good, didn’t I?”

Before you can even start to think about how you can possibly respond to that, you hear the sound of hooves in the dirt behind you, followed by whinny of a horse.

Tommy’s face pales as he glances over your shoulder.

“Shit.”

There’s no need for you to ask. His grimace says it all.

Somehow, you will yourself to turn around just as Joel’s steed comes to a halt beside the mare you and Tommy had ridden out on together. He jumps out of the saddle, grunting at the forceful impact on his knees when his feet hit the ground. His rifle hangs from a worn, brown leather strap slung across his back.

He approaches the two of you looking absolutely livid, and your throat goes dry.

“The hell is goin’ on here?” He breezes right past you, roughly shoving his brother with both hands. “Why the fuck would you bring her out here, Tommy? What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“Joel, c’mon. Take it easy—”

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me to take it easy!”

“Joel!” You reach for his arm. “Wait, it’s not his fault!”

Joel shoves him again, then takes him by the collar of his shirt and pins him against the ponderosa pine tree behind him. “You’ve been bringin’ her outside the gates behind my fuckin’ back for weeks, asshole?”

The panic begins to set in—he’s taking his anger out on the wrong person, and deep down, he knows this too.

“Joel! Stop! Let him go!” Grabbing fistfuls of his jacket, you try pulling him off of the younger man. “Stop it! It’s not his fault! I asked Tommy to bring me out here!”

He whirls around, his nostrils flared, jaw clenched.

You’ve seen this side of him a handful of times before.

But his anger has never been directed at you.

“What?”

Immediately, you let go of him and take a step back. “I asked Tommy to bring me out here and teach me how to shoot so that I can start working patrol,” you explain, hoping, praying, he doesn’t catch the slight tremble in your voice. “This was all my idea, okay? If you’re going to be mad at someone, then be mad at me. Not at him.”

“So you did this after I fuckin’ told you I didn’t want you out here?” Joel seethes. His neck becomes flushed, his tan skin now a deep shade of red.

“Joel—”

He cuts you off. “I had to find out from Ellie? You tried to get her to fuckin’ lie to me? After all the work it took for me and her to—” Stopping mid sentence, he places his hands on his hips and shakes his head.

“Joel. Please.” Behind the anger in his dark brown eyes, you detect something else. A mingle of hurt, concern—fear?

Tommy awkwardly clears his throat. “Well I’m, uh—I’m gonna head back to town,” he says, touching a hand to the back of his neck. “I’ll let the two of you work things out in private.” As he passes Joel, he lightly claps him on the shoulder. “Girl’s a sharp shooter, big brother. I’d reckon she’s almost better than you.”

His effort to lighten the mood fails. Miserably.

Offering you a subtle nod of encouragement, Tommy hops into the saddle of his mare and takes off towards the commune.

Silence falls over the both of you. It feels suffocating.

Unfamiliar.

Finally, you speak. “Joel, please just hear me out—”

“What the hell were you thinkin’? Or were you just not thinkin’ at all?”

“I was thinking I want to pull my weight in Jackson.”

“You already have a fuckin’ job,” Joel reminds you.

“Making sandwiches and serving whiskey at The Tipsy Bison?” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “I am capable of more than that, Joel. So much more. Don’t you believe I’m capable of doing more?”

“I don’t want you out here,” he grits through his teeth. “Capable or not, I don’t want you outside Jackson’s walls. I don’t want you on patrol and that’s fuckin’ final. You understand me?” Now it’s him who falters, and you wonder if you’re imagining things, or if that’s really a tear you see sliding down the side of his face, disappearing into the salt and pepper scruff of his beard.

“That’s not your decision to make, Joel. It’s mine.”

“M’responsible for you. It’s my job to look after you—to protect you.”

Something about the way he is looking at you, it feels like a punch to the gut, and it’s at that precise moment when you begin to realize that he’s not angry. He’s afraid.

“Joel, I know that all you want to do is protect me,” you sigh, letting your arms fall down to your sides. “I know you do. But you’re doing me no favors by trying to keep me sheltered. By treating me like I’m defenseless. Don’t forget, I’m a survivor too.”

“You already know how fuckin’ dangerous it is out here. Clickers, raiders—”

“I can handle it,” you insist, stubbornly.

“You’d be puttin’ yourself right in harm’s way!”

You shoot back, “You mean, the way you and so many other people put yourselves in harm’s way every single day for the sake of keeping Jackson safe?”

A frustrated growl rumbles through his chest. “Christ, why are you bein’ so fuckin’ foolish? You’re just askin’ to get yourself killed!”

“I can take care of myself!” You realize your hands are shaking and curl them into tight fists at your sides in an effort to hide it. “Just accept it, Joel! Accept that I can take care of myself, alright?”

That is all it takes to tip Joel over the edge he’s been teetering on. “Then what do you fuckin’ need me for?” he shouts, his voice thundering over the quiet plains of Wyoming. “If you can take care of yourself, what’s the point in us bein’ together? Why are you with me?”

“Because I love you!”

As soon as the confession comes tumbling out of your mouth, you take a step back, your wide eyes meeting his own. Until now, neither of you have ever called this what it is, been bold enough to say it’s love.

Loving after so much grief, so much loss, is daunting. It’s something you thought you would never be capable of doing again, not in this lifetime. Not in this world. It’s happened, though.

You love Joel Miller.

And he loves you.

He’s never told you he does, but he’s shown you.

From the way remembers how you take your coffee in the mornings, to the way he laces his fingers with your own, holding your hand when he’s buried inside of you, whispering sweet nothings into your collarbone every single night.

“You—you what?” Joel’s whisper is hardly audible.

You inch your way closer to him, your voice soft. “I love you,” you declare once more. “I’m not with you because of what you can do for me. I’m not with you because you can take care of me.” Closer. “I’m with you because I love you—because I’m in love with you, Joel.” Closer, until your chest brushes against his, and he can smell the subtle scent of your homemade, rosewater soap. “The only thing I need, and have ever needed from you, is your love in return.”

His throat bobs. Before you can utter another word, he lifts his hands and gently takes your face, cradling it in between his large palms, gently. His eyes search yours, immediately finding the sincerity behind your words. Leaning down, he brushes the tip of nose against your own as one of his hands travels down, his long fingers curling around the nape of your neck. His thumb lightly strokes the column of your throat.

“I love you,” Joel says hoarsely. Three words he hadn’t said to anyone in over two decades—it feels foreign to him, they ring strange in his own ears. He tries it again, clearer this time, and with a little more confidence. After all, he’s only saying what he has known from the very start. “I love you.” His other hand moves to your hip, pulling you even closer to him. “M’gonna love you for the rest of my life, baby.”

He leans in further and presses his lips to yours lightly, at first, but he wastes no time in sweeping his tongue across your bottom lip, silently asking for more.

Your mouth parts for him, and he backs you against the ponderosa, kissing you deeply, greedily, like he’s a man starved.

You whimper into him, your hands sliding up his broad chest and past his shoulders until they’re tangled in his soft, graying curls. He breathes you in, like you are the oxygen he needs to stay alive.

It isn’t until you both hear the sound of rustling behind a nearby shrub that you’re forced to pull apart. “Don’t move,” Joel instructs in a hushed voice. He keeps you pinned against the tree, his hand abandoning your hip. He glances around, slowly reaching behind his back for his rifle. His tense shoulders relax when the both of you see a pair of rabbits dart out from one dried bush and straight into another. Exhaling an amused huff, Joel shifts his attention back to you and rests his forehead against yours.

Smiling, you reach up and softly graze his beard with your fingertips. “Guess it’s about time we called this what it is, huh?”

“Guess you’re right, darlin’.” He lifts his chin, brushing a kiss onto your forehead. “M’sorry for raisin’ my voice to you. For talkin’ to you the way I did. S’just, the thought of somethin’ happenin’ to you out here scares shit out of me.” Taking a step back, he pulls the strap of his rifle from around his shoulder. He chews the inside of his cheek and silently stares at the gun in his hands. After a minute, he meets your curious gaze. “Do you really wanna do this, sweet girl?”

You nod. “Yeah. I really do.”

Joel sighs. “Can I put a condition it?”

“Depends on what that condition is.”

“I’m your patrol partner. Every shift. Every rotation.”

You roll your eyes. “Joel.”

“At least for the first few weeks,” he bargains. “Last thing I need is for you to be paired up with some fuckin’ idiot who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doin’.”

Knowing that would be the only way he’d have some peace of mind, you decide to agree. “Fine. We’re patrol partners.”

“Alright then.” Joel nods and hands you the rifle. He flashes you a small grin. “Show me what you got, baby.”

divider credit to @/saradika 💛

for fic notifications please follow @joelsgreysupdates!

#joel miller x reader #fic: call it what it is #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 3 months ago

Text

Closed Position: Week 5 (Rumba Part 3)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition, Dancing with the Stars, would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on the show to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 13.5k

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence (not by or toward Dieter), past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

👉 Chapter Warnings: Dieter being a menace, improper use of a seat belt, Dieter with a guitar, serious sexual tension, improper ballroom dancing, Dieter's mouth, blasphemy (because of Dieter's mouth), smut, aftercare, fluff, and maybe a smidge of angst

Chapter Quote: “You know you wanna do it with me. Let’s cause a scene.”

Kat's POV

On Friday, I awoke sweaty and aroused. I was almost certain I had been having a sex dream…about Dieter. That was a new experience. I was equal parts mortified and angry that the alarm woke me up before the climax.

I sat up and stretched before reaching over to grab my phone and water bottle from the nightstand, unscrewing the lid and taking a long drink as I unlocked my phone. I turned my attention to email first, opening the app to make sure I didn’t have any new marching orders from Stacia and Joe. I didn’t, but there was an email from the medical clinic indicating that my test results were now available. I figured everything was probably fine, but that didn’t make it any less nerve wracking as I logged into their portal to check. I sighed in relief as I skimmed down the page, all negative. At least that was one less thing to worry about. I closed that app, then noticed there were new Instagram notifications. Dieter had apparently posted a couple of new stories. The first was a picture he had taken of me last night before dinner. I balked when I saw the included text said “My dance partner is hotter than yours,” with the hashtag #YourLoss.

(Click pics to enlarge. More after the jump.)

That didn’t do anything to help my current state of arousal. The fact that he absolutely did not give a fuck was a serious turn on. However, I knew it was going to cause some raised eyebrows.

I sent a quick reply to the story, “Dieter, seriously?🤦🏻‍♀️😂”

My eyes rolled at his ridiculousness as I moved to take another drink of my water. I nearly choked, spilling half of it down the front of my shirt as his next story popped up on the screen. It was a mirror selfie of him sitting on the edge of the bed wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs and brown leather jacket. Once I finally stopped coughing, I audibly groaned. He looked so fucking good. Without a second thought, I took a screenshot, just as there was a knock at my door. I quickly locked my phone as I yelled “come in”, realizing too late that I probably looked like a hot mess. Dieter popped his head around the door, “Hey sleeping beauty…what in the world happened to you?”

I looked down at my shirt and rubbed aimlessly, “I spilled my water.” Because of you, you beautiful fucking tease. “What’s up?”

He looked amused, “I’m gonna go grab us some breakfast. I’ll be back.”

I gave him a deadpan stare, “I hope you found your pants.”

He snorted, “Unfortunately for you, I did.”

Fucker. I narrowed my eyes and chucked a pillow toward his face, “Shut up. Get out of here.”

He laughed loudly as he pulled the door shut behind him. I heard the main door to the suite open and close a few minutes later. I screwed the lid back on my water and put it on the nightstand, huffing in frustration as I fell back onto the bed. His mere existence was making me crazy. At least we only had two days left here because I wasn’t sure how much more I could handle. I sighed, pulling up the screenshot of his story. Something about it caused the ache between my thighs to become almost painful.

I scoffed, “Oh fuck this. I can’t take it anymore.”

I tossed my phone down beside me, then settled back into the pillow and closed my eyes. One hand sliding up my shirt to knead my breast while the other found its way under the waistband of my sleep shorts. I was soaking wet to the point that it was embarrassing. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this aroused. It was almost shocking considering it was over something so small. Or was it? Maybe it had just been building all week and was finally at a breaking point.

I fought it at first, trying to think of anything but Dieter, but my mind kept going back to him sitting on the edge of the bed, thick thighs spread wide with that smoldering look on his face. Then my thoughts shifted to his large hands being the ones touching me. Now knowing how good he was with his hands had me craving his touch over every inch of my skin. I could only imagine how good it would feel for him to massage other parts of my body. Something told me he wouldn’t disappoint.

I could feel the tension building, stretching so tight that it had me sweaty and gasping for air, but wouldn’t progress further than that. I was stuck on the edge, unable to finish. I think part of me knew allowing my thoughts to wander down this path was a terrible idea and was still fighting it. I stopped my ministrations, huffing loudly from frustration. Setting up, I sought out my suitcase to find the small vibrator I had brought. I should’ve just started with that.

After searching it out, I settled into bed again, trying to get back in my zone with light touches, working my way up to it. Now that I allowed myself to freely think of Dieter, I seemed to get to the edge a lot quicker this time. Just as I turned the vibrator on, I heard the front door open and slam shut, followed by Dieter yelling, “Food’s here!”

I turned the vibrator off and shoved it under my pillow, kicking my legs, groaning, and wanting to cry. How the hell is he back already? If I didn’t do something about this soon, I was going to spontaneously combust.

I rolled out of bed, pulling my hair up into a messy bun as I walked out into the living room. Dieter stared at me with furrowed brows.

“You good? You look flushed…again.”

Fuck. “Y-Yeah, I was just doing some yoga.”

His brows arched, “You could do that in here ya know…where there’s more space. I promise I won’t gawk…too much…but maybe avoid the downward dog. I don’t need to see that.”

I could feel the wetness on the inside of my thighs, suddenly thinking about how a little yoga session could turn dirty really fast under the right circumstances.

I shook my head to clear that thought, remembering his last comment.

“Why don’t you need to see that?” I asked.

His face turned pink as he chuckled nervously, “Seriously? I’ve already told you that you have a nice ass. I wouldn’t be able to look away.”

So, he’s an ass man. Got it. I snorted, “Well, at least you’re honest.”

My eyes raked over the spread of food that he was now pulling out of bags, “Where did you go for all of this? That was super-fast.”

“There’s a diner just around the corner. I called it in and it was ready to go when I got there.”

I nodded. That explains it. Of all days to get something quick…damn him.

We sat down to eat. It took everything in me not to be distracted by the burning urge at my core. It eventually passed as we discussed the day’s schedule. Then I had to rush and get ready to head to the studio with him. It was dress rehearsal day, which I was pretty excited about. I couldn’t wait to see Dieter in action.

Most of my day was spent standing around, watching Dieter and the cast go through the skits. During breaks he would come over to ask me for feedback. Overall I thought he was doing amazing. The way he could just turn it on and go into character fascinated me. He was so witty, and his timing was spot on. I could already tell the show was going to go well if it turned out to be anything like the dress rehearsals. I did appreciate that he took any suggestions I made as being constructive. He didn’t seem offended and even welcomed the input, giving my ideas a try on the next run through.

By lunchtime, I was beginning to feel achy. The week’s chaotic schedule was catching up to me and I had hardly taken any self-care measures to avoid it. I’m sure the pent up tension I had been feeling didn’t help matters either.

Dieter came to sit next to me at the table with our DoorDash delivery and began pulling food out of the bag as he eyed me popping two anti-inflammatory tablets.

“You feeling ok?” he asked.

I slumped back in my seat and puffed air out through my cheeks, “Yeah…I’m just getting a little run down. My joints are protesting and determined to ruin my day. I think I may take advantage of that soaking tub tonight. It might help.”

Dieter gave me a sympathetic look, “Anything I can do to help? I can go get you some herbal tea. Turmeric, ginger, and white willow bark are good anti-inflammatories. I drink those when my back bothers me.”

I was surprised he offered such a thing, but I really shouldn’t have been. The man knows his plants, of course that would carry over to herbal remedies. He also seemed to have a tendency to try and take care of me.

I reached over and squeezed his knee, “Thank you, but I’ll be fine…I think. I’ll keep it in mind though.”

He looked disappointed as he took a bite of his sub sandwich, chewing thoughtfully for a moment.

“We’ve still got a few more skits to rehearse. Why don’t you go relax in my dressing room for a bit…get off your feet…we can do the monologue run through last.”

I made a pouty face as I picked at my sandwich, “But then I won’t get to watch you rehearse.”

“I mean…you don’t have to, it was only a suggestion…just wanna make sure you're not hurting. I need you on top of your game after all.”

I smiled at his meager attempt at a joke, “You know what, I may actually take you up on that offer. At least long enough for the pain meds to kick in.” I would never admit it to him, but I was actually starting to ache bad enough that it was getting hard to ignore.

He nodded, “Good.”

That seemed to placate him for now. I did appreciate his concern. At least he showed me that he cared. It was more than Alec ever did.

After I finished my sandwich, I stood and perched against the table beside Dieter, who was now scrolling on his phone.

“How long do you think it’ll take you all to finish up?”

Without looking up from his phone, his hand reached out toward me, slipping around my lower back before pulling me into his side. His hand came to rest on my hip as he finally looked up at me from where he was still sitting in the chair.

It took me off guard, but I didn’t hate it. I responded by leaning into him and resting my hand at the nape of his neck. My fingers inched toward his curls, hesitating briefly before moving to scratch lightly at his scalp. It had to be one of the most casually intimate interactions we had ever had. I wanted more.

When our eyes met, my breath hitched. God, he’s so fucking beautiful. I could feel his thumb running across the small area of exposed skin where my shirt had ridden up, causing goosebumps to form over my entire body. It would be so easy to crawl into his lap and kiss him right now. I exhaled slowly, attempting to focus my thoughts on something else.

Dieter seemed to have been momentarily distracted too, but eventually gave me a small smile, seeming to remember that I had asked him a question.

“I’ll come get you during our next break. Feel free to take a nap if you want. The leather sofa is pretty comfortable, but I can’t promise how clean it is. No telling who has been in that room…”

I snorted out a laugh, “Noted.”

I moved to leave, but his hand tightened on my hip. His gaze turned more intense, “Promise you’ll let me know if you need anything? I’ll go get whatever you want.”

I smiled at him and ran my fingers through the top of his hair, brushing it away from his eyes. It felt strangely satisfying to do. “Don’t worry, I will. I promise. It’s not that bad, really.”

He studied my face for a moment, seemingly satisfied with my response before dropping his arm. I was suddenly feeling much better and didn’t want to leave him after that exchange, but I didn’t want to try and explain my sudden recovery because it had everything to do with him.

After that, I made my way to his dressing room and immediately sunk down onto the plushy leather sofa. There was a blanket draped over the back that seemed questionable, but I sort of didn’t care, wrapping myself up in it as I settled in for a nap. I was out as soon as I laid my head down. Hazy dreams that I wouldn’t remember followed. Only traces of the way it made me feel would remain - warm, safe, loved, and blissfully happy.

I awoke sometime later to Dieter sitting on the edge of the couch beside me, his hand on my hip giving a gentle shake. He was looking at me with a smirk as I groaned and wiped the sleep from my eyes.

“Time to wake up, sleeping beauty. How you feeling?”

I moved to sit up, his hand sliding down to rest on the side of my thigh in the process.

“Better, I think. I didn’t realize how badly I needed that.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I think we’ve both been a little sleep deprived the last few days.”

He stood, “You ready to go over the monologue?”

I laughed nervously, “I suppose. This is about to be a disaster…”

Dieter shook his head, “Nope, you’ve got this. Just focus on me and the cue cards if you need them. Forget anyone else is in the room.”

That’s easy to do. I do it often enough. I stood and followed him out to the stage, both of us taking our places. The first time through was…rough. By the fourth time, I relaxed into it some, creating a playful banter between us, which was the goal. Dieter’s facial expressions to my joking insults were so on point. It was hard for me to keep from laughing. I really hoped I could keep it together during the live shows. The fifth and final time, we managed to nail it, which left me feeling much more confident about the whole thing.

Dieter and I were standing just in front of the stage exchanging notes on our last run through when one of the writers, Judy, came over and invited us out for open mic night at a local blues club. I knew there would probably be alcohol there, so I was tempted to decline. I glanced over at Dieter with a questioning look, “I’ll leave that up to you.”

Dieter shrugged, “We could spare a couple of hours, right? I wouldn’t mind getting you up on stage...” A mischievous grin was now plastered across his face as I started to shake my head.

“Nope. Not happening, Bravo.”

Judy’s eyes lit up, “Wait, do you sing?”

Dieter bumped his shoulder against mine, still smiling, “She sings and plays. She’s amazing.”

I was still shaking my head, “Dieter, no. I refuse.”

He put an arm around my shoulders, hugging me against his side as he leaned in close to my ear, “I’ll do it if you will.”

I sighed, “Now you’re playing dirty…asshole.”

Dieter snorted out a laugh as Judy grabbed my arm, “Come on Kat, it’ll be a good time. It would be amazing to see you two do something like that together.”

I puffed air out of my cheeks, “Alright fine. We can go…but I’m not making any promises.”

Dieter bear hugged me, shaking me from side to side as he yelled “Yaaaaasss” a little louder than necessary. I laughed and rolled my eyes at his enthusiasm. Judy snickered at Dieter’s antics, “Great, I’ll let everyone know you’re coming. You can share a ride with us if you don’t mind being squished in. It’s not that far away.”

Dieter glanced over at me, a smirk on his lips, “That’s fine, Kat can sit on my lap if need be.”

Fucking hell. Why is he torturing me like this? I narrowed my eyes on him as Judy chuckled, “Cool, I’ll go gather everyone up.”

After she walked away, I leaned over to Dieter and quietly asked, “You sure this is ok? You know they’ll probably be drinking…”

He sighed, “I’m gonna have to be around it at some point. It’s inevitable.” He gave me a soft smile as he took my hand and entwined his fingers with mine, “Besides…you’re gonna be there with me, so I’ll be fine.”

His eyes crinkled around the edges as his smile grew. I could tell that he believed what he was saying. It caused butterflies to form in my stomach when I considered the possible implications behind his words.

A short time later, a group of us squished into the back of a black SUV. Dieter sat in the very back corner. I hopped in behind him. Just as I was about to settle into the seat, he pulled me onto his lap, sitting me at an angle across his thighs. He wordlessly reached up behind him with his left hand to pull the seat belt out and motioned for me to fasten it around the both of us. Judy and one other person slid onto the bench seat beside us as he wrapped his arms around my middle and hugged me against his chest.

Dieter’s proximity caused him to completely invade all of my senses. His face was close enough to mine that I could almost taste his lips. I was cocooned in his smell and warmth, causing me to melt into his embrace. I could feel his hot breath blowing against the side of my neck and hear it hitch as I smiled shyly at him. The sight of his rounded brown eyes gazing deeply into mine made my heart skip a beat. For a brief moment, the world fell away, and it was just us getting lost in each other's eyes. He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth before turning his attention to Judy who had apparently asked a question.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he said almost in a daze.

“Do you play too?” she asked again.

Dieter shrugged, “I guess you could call it that.”

I smiled down at him, “He plays the guitar and sings. He’s really good.”

A smile tugged at his lips as a blush crept across his cheeks. He squeezed me a little tighter as he leaned his forehead against my jaw.

Judy clapped her hands excitedly, “This is gonna be so much fun.”

I wished I shared her enthusiasm, but I couldn’t. Dieter laughed, his eyes meeting mine again.

“You gonna have some fun with me, Kit Kat?” My brow arched. Fucking tease.

I shifted to put my arm around his neck, “Depends on which definition of fun we’re talking about.”

His left hand that now rested on my hip gripped a little tighter as his eyes roamed over my face. I could tell he wasn’t sure how to take that comment. Good. Stew on that one. One side of his lips tugged upward, “I’m open to trying any definition of your choosing.”

My jaw nearly dropped. What. The. Fuck. Is he doing? I glanced around the car, worried someone was going to hear us, but everyone now seemed engrossed in one of the multiple conversations happening between the occupants. I could feel myself relax knowing that they all seemed distracted.

He shifted to lean in closer, causing his right hand to slide up my jean covered thigh a few inches. His lips grazed the shell of my ear as he spoke in a low gravelly voice, “We gonna rehearse for a bit after this?”

When he pulled away I couldn’t help staring at his pouty bottom lip briefly before my eyes flicked up to his. I nodded, “I’m not gonna let you get out of it that easily. You still need a little work.”

He chuckled, “Right…Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

I gave him an admonishing look over the pet name as he fought a smile. We were interrupted by the opening of doors, having arrived at the club.

The club wasn’t really what I was expecting. The walls were dark, but it was hard to tell what color they actually were because every inch of the place was bathed in a crimson glow from the red lantern like light fixtures hanging overhead. A decently sized stage sat in the center of the room with equipment scattered about. The stage was surrounded by tables and plushy booths where people sat enjoying meals. A bar lined the wall on the far side, which made me cringe a little, but overall the atmosphere seemed very chill. It didn’t give off any sort of party vibe.

We were seated at a large table next to the stage. Judy sat on one side of me, Dieter on the other. I sat in silence taking in my surroundings while Dieter chatted away with one of the cast members seated on the other side of him. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits and eager to engage with him. It appeared that whatever damage he had caused during his previous time with them had been repaired. It made me happy that he was making progress in that area because I knew how worried he had been about it.

A server soon appeared and began taking everyone’s drink order. To my surprise, not a single person ordered alcohol. I briefly wondered if that was something they had discussed as a group beforehand or not. Either way, I appreciated it. Dieter was still chattering away so I’m sure he hadn’t even noticed.

I had just started flipping through the menu when, without a word, Dieter grabbed my chair and pulled me closer to his side. I looked up at him with furrowed brows. He gave me a cheesy smile as he rested his arm along the back of my seat, “I didn’t get a menu. Gotta share. What are we getting?”

I gave him a disbelieving smile and rolled my eyes, tilting the menu toward him so he could look at it with me. By this point in the week, we had gotten into the habit of picking out meals that we both wanted to try so we could sample each other’s dishes. I settled on the blackened chicken carbonara while he went with a Cajun chicken and shrimp pasta.

After ordering, his arm remained around the back of my chair as he leaned in closer to talk to Judy on the other side of me. His full attention seemed to be on her, yet his fingers had found their way to the back of my hair, lightly stroking through it as he talked. I tried to be present during their conversation, but it was hard to focus on anything other than his soft touch. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure what the hell they were talking about.

Our attention was soon drawn to the stage as open mic night got underway. The host of the evening, Brian, was already badgering people to go sign up before it even started. Before he introduced the first performer, he caught sight of Dieter sitting in front of the stage. He stopped mid-sentence and changed course, “OH Damn, we got Dieter Bravo in the house tonight y’all!”

His eyes shifted to me as the room whooped and whistled, “AND Kat Stamos is here too! Y’all shouldn’t have sat next to the stage. Imma be giving you hell all night.”

We all laughed, but I felt like I was dying inside just a little bit. I hated being the center of attention like this. Judy took that moment to yell out, “Get them up on stage!” Fucking hell.

Brian’s eyebrows arched, “Oh you guys gonna perform for us?”

I shook my head as Dieter tried to laugh it off. He must have sensed my nervousness because his free hand found its way to my thigh and squeezed gently.

Brian laughed, “I’ll come back to you later. I’m not lettin’ that go.” Everyone cheered. Fuck. This is not how I saw the evening going. The host finally moved on to introducing the first performer just as our dinner was served. Aside from taste testing each other's food, we ate mostly in silence, enjoying the soulful blues performances taking place mere feet from us. I thought we had escaped the wrath of Brian, but I was wrong. Just as we were finishing up, Brian was back on stage asking if anyone wanted to fill the next open slot. When no one came forward, his eyes focused on us.

“A little birdy told me that Dieter and Kat have some hidden talents. I think this would be a good time to get them up here!”

I glanced over at Judy, who looked guilty before her nervous smile turned to an encouraging one. I felt a sudden adrenaline rush coursing through me as I turned to Dieter. A small part of me really wanted to see him sing and play on stage.

“Go on, get to it. You said you would do it,” I teased with a smile.

He shook his head, “No, I said I would, if you did. You gotta come too.”

He stood up, which seemed to get the crowd riled up further, “Come on Kit Kat. You know you wanna do it with me. Let’s cause a scene.”

I laughed. This is NOT what I wanna do with you, sir. I puffed air out of my cheeks. “Fine…but you owe me a solo performance too.”

“You let me pick the song and I’ll do anything you tell me to,” he replied with a dimpled smile. Fucker. I couldn’t pass that up.

He grabbed my hand, tugging me up out of the seat. The cheers in the room were almost deafening as he pulled me up onto the stage. He grabbed one of the acoustic guitars from the stand, taking a minute to strum and tune it as he chatted with the house band. Brian walked over and offered me a wireless mic before disappearing. The handle felt slick in my sweaty palms as I turned toward Dieter who was moving toward the mic stand in the center of the stage. He gave me a sneaky grin as he worked to raise the stand to his height. I smiled at him nervously as I raised my mic to speak, “Alright Bravo, what's it gonna be?”

Dieter was still smiling at me as he strummed a couple bars of the opening notes, waiting for my realization to kick in. It didn’t take long. It was the song I had been humming along to on Wednesday. The one he said that he wanted to hear me sing right before we had the almost kiss, or whatever the hell that was. I chuckled, rolling my eyes at him. He turned to his mic, “I hope you’re ready to have your minds blown by this beautiful and talented woman standing on stage with me.”

I could feel the heat creeping up my cheeks as the audience responded with whistles and applause. I couldn’t help hiding behind my hand. I could hear Dieter’s deep rumbling laugh through the sound system. It vibrated through every inch of my body as I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for what we were about to do. I had sung in front of crowds before, but that was during family gatherings. This was different, almost daunting. Especially since I knew videos would inevitably find their way online for the world to see.

Dieter turned toward me and leaned in to ask, “You good?”

I gave him a nervous smile, taking another deep breath as I nodded.

“Focus on me if you need to,” he said. I nodded again.

He bumped his shoulder against mine, “Ok, here we go.”

I watched as his thick fingers began to pluck out the opening notes to Blood on a Rose. My eyes met his sultry gaze just as the words to the first verse left my lips. 🎶 (Song link for reference)

Your voice in my ear / The world disappears / So I'll fall again / You can keep me right here / Haunting my soul / A beautiful thorn / You rapture my heart / Leave me broken and torn

The lyrics were suddenly taking on a new meaning for me. He WAS haunting my soul, and I was torn between keeping things professional and completely losing myself to him. I was inching closer to him now, singing only for him. We had seemingly become completely entranced by each other as I moved into the chorus.

This love is killing me / The pain must be part of the cure / It's so hard to breathe when I need you so bad that it burns / You are the fire, love is the blood on a rose

I felt every word of it. This game we were playing had turned into nothing short of torture. My desire for him was reaching a new peak as the electricity crackled between us like it never had before. We were connecting in a new way that suddenly felt more intimate than the dancing. Maybe because we could both sense that there was some truth to the lyrics. I couldn’t keep myself from reaching up to brush the curl away that had fallen down over his forehead, then settled my hand on his cheek as I began the next verse.

Lost in your eyes / These ties that bind / Body and soul / Leaving nothing behind / Don't know how to stop / Don't know how to stay / These chains might break / But you like it that way

And lost in his eyes I was. I don’t think either of us had broken eye contact since the first note of music sounded. We were standing so close together by the time I went into the next round of the chorus that I could have easily leaned in to kiss him if there hadn't been a guitar between us. After a short building instrumental interlude, he shifted, angling the guitar in front of me. He leaned in toward the mic just as I started the final two refrains of the chorus and joined in.

The rush that I felt from his closeness was insane. My entire body was tingling and covered in goosebumps with his face now inches from mine, our gazes still locked as he belted out the words, harmonizing perfectly with me. Sharing this moment and this part of myself with him was waking something up inside of me. A craving unlike anything I had ever felt, and he was the only one that could satisfy it.

When the song ended, we just sort of stared at each other for a few beats as applause and cheers broke out around us. He smirked as he pulled me into his side and kissed me on the cheek. Just as I pulled away, the crowd began to chant “One more!”. I laughed, shaking my head as I raised the mic to speak, “I think the next one is on Dieter. I’m done.”

Dieter gave me his best sad puppy dog look. I shook my head again, “Nope. I’m done. It’s your turn.” He rolled his eyes as I turned to exit the stage, receiving praise as I went. I politely smiled in thanks, moving to take my seat at the table directly in front of where Dieter was now standing.

I could see that he was feeling anxious as he fidgeted with the guitar strap, then adjusted the mic, “Well, I don’t have Kat up here to make me look good anymore.” He laughed nervously, “So, you all better take it easy on me.”

The audience filled with quiet laughter as he turned around, briefly speaking with the house band one more time before returning to the mic. His voice started with the music, slow and deep. Bluesy guitar riffs intermingling with his somber tone. Every word was laced with emotion as his eyes focused on me.

🎶 (Song link for reference)

Bright lights with the side of passion / Nightlife, welcome the attraction / Her satin gloves wrapped all around / She lift me up, then, she knocked me down / I fell in love, she showed me how / She takes a puff and it's curtains now

I was happy to be sitting, because my legs would have given out on me if I hadn’t been. He was literally taking my breath away. This was way more intense than the first time I had seen him sing. I could feel it in my bones - in every cell. I couldn’t handle how fucking perfect and beautiful he was.

Judy grabbed my arm, “I had no idea he sounded like this. He’s so fucking good!”

All I could manage was a small nod, not taking my eyes off him as he transitioned to the chorus.

She drives a camera crazy / I think she knows it / There ain't no one above her and she ain't afraid to own it / The glitz and glamor slay me / But is it hopeless? / This goddess of a woman really gets the people going / Close up, zoom out / From every angle, yeah, she lay me down / Choked up, no doubt / She hard to handle, but she'll keep you 'round

His anxiety appeared to have dissipated. He now seemed slightly cocky even. The rawness and passion in his voice was seriously doing something to me. My thighs were now clenching together under the table. The ache at my center went from zero to painful in an instant. I sighed. This may very well be what finally breaks me.

As he moved into the second verse, something about his expression changed. It was more playful as he fought a smirk, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip during the brief lyrical pauses. His eyes were borderline seductive as he continued to focus on me. Something told me he knew what he was doing, and that thought only made me squirm more. I couldn’t help questioning his song choice. I found myself wondering how much truth was behind the lyrics.

Might bite when they call for action / Shines like she'll evoke reaction /�� I feel it jump, heart starts to pound / She pulled the plug, really show me now / We fell in love, she showed me how / Hands are cuffed as I slowly drown

By the time he hit the chorus again, he was in full performance mode - sliding the guitar behind his back and gripping the microphone between both hands with confidence. It had to be one of the hottest things I had ever seen. A confident Dieter seemed to be my new weakness.

Everyone in the room collectively lost their minds when he finished. I could hear murmurs around about how amazing he sounded and how surprised everyone was by his talent. He was shocking people left and right this week and I was loving every second of it. I was proud of him and suddenly understood the urge of wanting to show him off. He was MY dance partner after all. If he could use that as an excuse, then so could I.

After a shy “thank you” to the audience, Dieter rejoined us at the table and was met with fist bumps, claps, and pats on the back. He had a dopey grin on his face as he finally sat down beside me. When he noticed me looking at him, his demeanor shifted, seemingly unsure of himself now. I gave him a comforting smile, reaching to lace my fingers with his.

“You did such a good job. I’m a little speechless.”

He huffed out a relieved chuckle, shifting to put his arm along the back of my seat as he leaned in next to my ear, “You were amazing. I could listen to you all night.”

It was my turn to be embarrassed. I could feel the blush creeping up my cheeks, but I still managed to pluck up the courage to ask, “Those were some interesting song choices. Why did you pick them?”

Dieter leaned back into his chair and took a drink of water with his free hand, seemingly weighing his response. He finally shrugged, “They seemed to fit the mood of the evening.”

He’s being cryptic with that answer. My brows pinched together, “What does that mean?”

A cocky grin spread across his face, “You tell me.”

My mouth opened to speak, then snapped shut. I don’t know what to do with that. What is he insinuating?

We were suddenly interrupted by two younger women who asked to take a selfie with us. We agreed, of course. After they spent a few minutes fawning over us, they thankfully left. Dieter immediately turned his attention back to me, smiling as he draped his arm back around my shoulders.

“I’m almost afraid to check social media after this gets out. You know there’ll be videos,” I said.

He snickered, “Well, let’s beat them to it. Story time!”

Dieter shifted to pull out his phone and snapped a quick selfie of us, then posted it to his Instagram story with a smirk. I’d have to check to see what ridiculousness he added to it later. After setting his phone down on the table, his hand found its way to my thigh and rubbed gently as he asked “When do you wanna head back?”

His gaze locked with mine as I reveled in the sensation from his touch. The thigh touching was new, he did it so casually now and I was loving every second of it. I wanted more.

“Umm, lemme run to the ladies room, then we can go,” I finally said.

Judy’s attention was drawn to me as I got up. I motioned that I was going to the bathroom which prompted her to stand and join me. We had to wait in line for several minutes, quietly chatting amongst ourselves as we did so.

“I’ve gotta say, Dieter has shocked us all this week. He’s like a completely different person. He’s actually been pretty amazing to work with,” she said.

I smiled, “Yeah, I know he’s been working really hard. He was excited to be asked back.”

“I’ll admit, a lot of us were not happy about him coming back at first. He was an absolute asshole last time…when he wasn’t trying to get laid that is. He was a mess.”

That probably shouldn’t bother me, but it sort of did. I had to remind myself that he hadn’t kept his past a secret. I knew he used to sleep around. Maybe it was just starting to hit me differently after the Alec thing.

“Being sober has done him good though. I think you're having a positive impact on him too. He seems much more relaxed when you're around,” she added with a knowing look in her eyes.

My brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, “I dunno. He just appears to be…happier maybe? You seem very in tune with each other.” She leaned in closer, “I’ve gotta ask…because I honestly can’t figure you two out…Do you have something going on? Like…are you together?”

I scoffed, “No. Absolutely not. I mean, sure, we’ve gotten close…I understand what he’s going through because my dad had the same issues…And this show and all the drama that comes with it is putting us through the wringer. We’ve just become good friends through all of it.”

She didn’t look convinced, “All I’m gonna say is…he was tryin’ to get with anyone that would give him the time of day last time he was here. Now, he only has eyes for you. That man is one hundred percent into you.”

I laughed nervously, “No he’s not. It’s not like that with us.”

She gave me a doubtful look as she moved to take the next open stall, “If you say so, honey.”

I stood there, a little dumbfounded for a moment. Maybe I wasn’t imagining things?

I tried to put Judy’s words out of my mind as I walked back to the table. I was still trying to convince myself that she was wrong. Do I think he flirts sometimes? Yes. But he’s Dieter fucking Bravo. That’s just how he is. To say he only has eyes for me is a whole other level that I was not fully convinced of yet. Of course, now that I was thinking about it, I couldn’t actually recall having seen him flirt with anyone else. Not even in a joking manner. That had to be because he was comfortable around me though. Right?

As I approached the table, I realized Dieter was saying his goodbyes. He turned to me with a soft smile on his face, “I took care of our bill, and our ride should be here any minute.”

Damn, he didn’t waste any time. I nodded, then turned to bid my farewells to everyone for the evening and thanked them for inviting us. Once finished, Dieter grabbed my hand and led me through the crowd to the exit where we found our Uber already waiting.

The ride back to the hotel was oddly quiet, but I could still feel a strange electricity crackling between us. Something had definitely changed between us tonight. I couldn’t keep my eyes from shifting in his direction and roaming over his profile as he stared out the window of the car. The city lights occasionally illuminated his face in various shades of white, blue, and pink - emphasizing his aquiline nose and pouty lips in a way that was making it hard for me to breathe. I knew I should look away, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could ignore the feelings I was having toward him. Being with him as much as I had this week was causing a raging monster to grow inside of me, and it wanted him. After tonight, I didn’t think I could lock it away any longer.

Once we reached the hotel, I linked my arm with his as we walked inside toward the elevators. After the elevator doors closed, his arm shifted to wrap around my waist, tucking me into his side. I was suddenly surrounded by the scent of him, earthy and woody with a soft citrus undertone. It was intoxicating and I had to remind myself not to lean in to inhale him. His husky voice broke through my thoughts, “Do you still wanna rehearse some tonight? I guess we probably should, huh?”

I raised my head to look at him, startled by how close his face was to mine. Fuck. He’s beautiful. I cleared my throat, staring up at him through my lashes, “Yeah, I mean…maybe we can just run through it a few times with the music.”

The elevator doors opened to our floor. I moved away from him to exit, “I’m just gonna run and change first. Tight jeans are not ideal…” I added with a chuckle, swiping into the room as I spoke. He nodded, agreeing that he was going to change as well.

I changed into black leggings and a matching zip front sports bra, then met Dieter in the living room. We stuck to our routine of rehearsing on the terrace. It wasn’t a cold night but being up on the top floor definitely made it a little chilly. Dieter made some sort of comment about keeping the blood flowing to stay warm and my thoughts spiraled. The fact that we were stuck doing one of the most intimate dances this week was not helping matters. I suddenly had butterflies in my stomach realizing what we were about to do while I was in my current state. I don’t know if I can do this and keep it together.

I queued up the music using the small Bluetooth speaker and my phone, then hit play on my watch once we got into position. On our first run-through, I messed up several times because I couldn’t concentrate, but we managed to make it through in the midst of laughter. Dieter was completely throwing me off my game with his new found confidence and intense focus. His hesitation with physical contact had disappeared only to be replaced by a cocky smirk and playful glint in his eyes, which was beyond distracting. I felt like he knew what effect it was having on me too.

On our second run-through, we shook off our giggles and managed to focus, if that’s what you could even call it. The electric current between us was buzzing at max levels as we channeled the intimacy of the dance. Our touches became more sensual and less playful, the looks between us now lingering, the space between us disappearing. Instead of just our foreheads touching during those more intimate moves, our noses were now nuzzling against each other with our lips centimeters apart. Every nerve ending in my body was like a livewire, shocking me where our skin touched. By the time the song came to an end, the vibe between us had completely shifted. I stepped away, laughing nervously, “Well, that one went much better. I think we have a pretty good grasp on it. Do you wanna call it a night?” I need to get away from him. Now. Or I’m gonna lose what little control I have.

Dieter rubbed at the back of his neck as he peered up at me through his lashes, the corner of his lip twitched upward before he spoke, “I dunno, I think maybe we should go through it one or two more times…at least. If you’re feeling up to it…of course.” I could feel his chocolate eyes boring into me as he fought a smile. What the fuck is this? Why does he keep looking at me like that? His words from a few days ago popped into my head, “I’ll behave unless I’m told to do otherwise.”

Surely, he’s not…no. Is he? I felt like he was trying to get a read on where I was with things. Did he feel the shift too? My intuition was telling me that if we kept rehearsing right now, something was going to happen. This whole situation we had been thrust into was setting us up for this and I was falling for it. My gut told me he was too. My head was telling me to call it a night, but my traitorous lady bits were throbbing at the possibility of seeing what else Dieter Bravo could do with those loose hips of his. I suddenly felt like everything was hinging on my response. I must have taken longer than I realized to answer him, because Dieter’s brows furrowed as my name slipped out between his lips. My attention snapped back to him as he asked, “Is everything ok?”

My eyes widened, meeting his, “Yeah, sorry. I was thinking through the ending. I’m not sure it feels right.”

He arched a brow as the smirk returned, “I agree, it’s almost sort of… anticlimactic?”

I nodded, “Yeah…I agree.” Maybe with a new focus, the tension might dissipate some. “Are you good to do another lift?” I asked.

He shrugged, his eyes were almost smoldering now, “I’m good with whatever you wanna do.”

I felt like his words had a double meaning behind them. I tried my best to ignore my thoughts as I worked through the moves in my head, “Alright, I’m not sure how to explain this…ummm…as I turn, allow me to complete the turn into your side while lifting me up onto your hip. You’re gonna bend your leg slightly for me to rest on as you dip me backward, run your hand down my side then snap me up for the final pose.”

He stood staring at me with a confused look etched on his face. I sighed, “Ok, hold on.” I moved to pick up my phone, closing my eyes for a minute to think where I had seen that move before. I somehow managed to pull it out of the recesses of my mind and quickly found it on YouTube to show him. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched, then nodded, “Yeah, I like that better.”

We tried it several times and managed to get it down after some struggles and laughter. Then we decided to go through the whole routine again with the new ending. The tension between us quickly returned - pretty much picking up where it left off. Especially when we hit the first lift. From my position on the floor, I raised my legs and hooked them over the tops of his thighs. He slowly lifted me off the ground as I rolled my torso upward and hooked my hands around his neck pulling his face up to meet mine. Our lips grazed against each other this time. The position that we found ourselves in felt more intimate than it ever had as he did a full turn, and I released the hold my legs had around his waist to plant my feet on the ground. We stayed in the embrace a few beats longer than we should have but kept going after finally breaking apart.

Our lips continued to lightly brush against each other throughout the rest of the routine. This was new. We had never gotten this close and intimate during a dance. It was causing blood to rush to my aching core. There was no way we could keep this up or else I was going to burst into flames. I could feel my control slipping away with each passing second.

By the time we reached the end with the final lift I was hanging on by a thread. When I turned and he lifted me onto his hip for the dip, he didn’t just run his hand down my side. He started by caressing my neck, skimmed the center of my breasts, then down my side to pull me upward toward his face. Instead of just resting my hand on the back of his neck, it seemed to have a mind of its own as it moved upward and fisted in the curls at the nape. I could feel his heated breath rush out against my lips as he closed his eyes from the sensation, a quiet whimper escaping his throat before nuzzling his nose with mine. He pulled back slightly, allowing his gaze to settle on me. He looked dazed as I continued to slowly pull away to stand. His hand slid down my arm and gripped my fingertips until they were out of his reach.

I turned away, brushing my hair back off my face and inhaling deeply in an attempt to compose myself. Fuck, I’ve never felt anything this intense before. It was really messing with my head. He was like a magnet pulling me in. There was no way I could fight this for seven more weeks. The pull was too strong. If it didn’t happen now, it was going to eventually unless something changed.

His voice broke through my thoughts, “One more time?” He asked. His voice sounded off. Smoother and deeper somehow. Like honey and sex. I turned to look at him, his eyes widening slightly, “Or, we can call it a night…if you prefer.” He could sense my reluctance and was giving me an out. Deep down I knew he was testing me. I could sense that he wanted it just as badly as I did.

I shook my head, “N-No…one more time should do it. Our timing was still a little off. I think we can get it right this time.”

One corner of his lips tugged upward. Did I have a double meaning behind my words now? Fuck. What am I doing? We got into position as I started the music again. The last of the frayed threads that had been holding us back were finally pulling apart. After the first turn, he placed his hands on my hips and pulled my back tightly against his front. I could feel every inch of his broad body pressed against me, including the stiffness in his pants. There was no polite space there this time as I reached up behind me with my right hand to the back of his neck, grasping at his curls. His fingertips slid down the underside of my arm as his lips lowered to brush against the shell of my ear, then trailed down my neck before transitioning to the next move. I could still feel the blazing path of his mouth on my skin, even after it was gone.

Our touches continued to intensify as we got to the first lift. This is when the threads finally snapped. After I rolled my torso upright and pulled his face upward to meet mine, he stopped moving. His breathing was noticeably shallower as I cupped his cheeks and stared into his darkened eyes. Slowly leaning in further, and without thinking, I placed the lightest of kisses on his lips before pulling back to meet his gaze again. His eyes searched my face as a conflicted expression overtook his features. I loosened the grip my legs had around his waist so he could set me down, which he did, but his hands kept me pulled snugly against his chest as they caressed over the bare skin of my lower back.

He pressed his forehead against mine, I could tell he wanted to kiss me, but he was holding back. His words popped into my head again, “I’ll behave unless I’m told to do otherwise.” I realized then, he’s following my lead in this dance. I pressed my lips against his again, his response was tentative and gentle. Almost like he was afraid he might scare me away if he moved too quickly. My hands slid from his cheeks into his hair, pulling him in closer and deepening the kiss. His lips parted, allowing me entrance. It was soft and sensual the way he massaged my tongue with his. God, he’s such a good kisser. I had never really thought that about anyone in the past, now I realized why. There was an art to it, and Dieter Bravo had mastered it.

My thighs clenched together, the throb at my center was now unbearable. I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew there was no fighting it at this point as my hands dropped down to the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head. The soft fabric was replaced by my fingers splayed across his bare chest. He leaned in and kissed me briefly before pausing and placing his hands on either side of my neck with his thumbs resting on my chin, gently stroking my face. He pulled back, his intense eyes locking with mine. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

I nodded in response, but then he continued, “If we do this…it changes everything. I-I can’t go back to the way things were before. It’s all or nothing for me.” He was deadly serious as his eyes bore into me, unblinking as he searched mine. His intensity took me by surprise, and only seemed to spur me on. I let out a shaky breath, his vehemence causing my heart to pound in my ears. I nodded again, “I’m sure.”

He must have found what he was looking for as his eyes danced around my face, because it was like a dam had broken when his lips finally crashed against mine. He was suddenly full of passion and need. His hands roamed over the length of my body as he walked us backward toward the open door to go inside. Once we passed the threshold, he turned, pressing me up against the curtain covered floor-to-ceiling window. My leg hooked around his hip as he rutted against my center, nearly causing me to come undone from the contact.

His lips made their way down my neck, but he still seemed hesitant in touching me where I wanted him to. I grabbed his hands and brought them to my breast, encouraging him to have his way with me. He gave them a tentative squeeze, before groaning against my jaw. One of my hands fisted in the top of his hair as the other moved to the front zipper on my bra, “It’s ok to touch me, Dieter. I want you to…need you to…please.” I begged through heavy pants.

He whimpered against my skin as I pulled the zipper down, his hands immediately reaching for and massaging at the soft exposed flesh as I managed to slide the bra off down my arms. He raised his head, his tongue quickly plunged into my mouth as one of his hands began to move downward at a painfully slow pace until he was finally rubbing against the spot that I wanted him most. It was my turn to whimper into his mouth now. It wasn’t enough, I wanted more. My hips bucked against his palm. He seemed to understand, moving to dip his hand into the front of my leggings, his digits sliding over my slick folds, expertly caressing and teasing me. I quickly turned into a quivering mess as he licked and sucked on my neck and worked me over with his thick fingers.

He suddenly withdrew his hand, now sliding both down my sides and hooking his fingers under the band of my leggings, he paused quietly whispering into my ear, “Is this ok?” I let out a breathy “yes” as he continued to pepper me with kisses, slowly moving down my body with his mouth as he removed the rest of my clothing, completely exposing me. I was burning for him. I couldn’t remember ever feeling like this before. The hungry look in his eyes as he sucked a nipple into his mouth only exacerbated the feeling.

Dieter sank to his knees, lifting my left leg over his shoulder as he pulled away from my breast with a pop. He turned his attention to kissing and nibbling at my inner thigh, dragging his patchy stubble against my skin as his lips made a fiery path to the apex. His teasing touches were maddening. I knew I wasn’t going to last long. When he finally moved to my folds, licking up the center with the flat of his tongue, my legs nearly gave out. He hummed against me before latching on to the sensitive and throbbing bundle of nerves, sucking and flicking his tongue in tandem as his hands gripped my ass and held me firmly against his mouth. I doubled over almost immediately, my hands fisting in his hair for balance. Fucking hell, how did he do that? The loud moan that escaped my lips was almost embarrassing. I somehow managed to get myself upright and grabbed onto the door facing to my left for support. I was already covered in sweat, breathing heavily, and thighs shaking from the building release. Another quick jolt of pleasure ran through me, nearly causing me to double forward again. A breathy, “What the fuck!?!?” escaped my lips. I’d never felt anything like this before.

I could feel the deep rumble of his chuckle as he broke away with another pop, looking up at me through his lashes, “Everything ok, sweetheart?”

My eyes narrowed at the pet name. I could tell he was using that word purposefully. His defiance only further stimulated my arousal. “I don’t think I told you to stop.”

That cocky smirk was back again, “Yes, ma’am.”

He dove back in, more enthusiastic than before - groaning out profane sounds as he worked. I was fairly certain he was sucking my soul out through my cunt. His mouth should be considered the eighth wonder of the world. He should be worshiped. My debauched thoughts were already sending me to hell, so why not add the worship of a false god to the list?

I couldn’t help grinding and arching into him, it felt so good it was almost painful. My release hit out of nowhere, my vision going dark before filling with bursts of color behind my eyelids. My ears began ringing, muffling all sound. The primal cry that came from deep within my chest shocked me. My whole body was shaking to the point that I could hardly stand. I could feel Dieter in front of me now, nuzzling his slick covered nose against mine with his hands around my waist, holding me tightly against him for support.

I snorted out a breathless laugh, “I think I just blacked out for a minute.”

I could feel him laughing against my throat. “Somebody was wound up tight,” he said between kisses. I knotted his hair in my hand and tilted his face upward to meet my gaze, “I don’t think I’ve ever come that fast, or hard…”

He smirked. “You can wipe that smug look off your face,” I added through a chuckle.

He shrugged as a cheesy grin spread across his face, “You know Kit Kats are my favorite thing to eat. What did you expect?”

I snorted, “You DID NOT just say that.”

He laughed loudly, “I totally did, and I’ll never not say it again. It’s too good.”

I smiled against his lips before pulling him in for a deep kiss, tasting the after effects of his handiwork. I wasn’t done with him yet. My right hand slid down through the light smattering of wiry hair at the base of his abdomen, then down the front of his gym shorts, rubbing his hard length. He melted into me as I swallowed his moans, pushing his shorts and boxer briefs down, exposing him to me. His size was as I suspected, girthy and above average in length, but not in a ridiculous way. He was perfect and I was aching to feel him. I NEEDED to feel him. I hooked my leg around his hip, encouraging him to rub against my slick center. He paused suddenly, his forehead dropping to my shoulder, “What’s wrong?” I asked.

He raised his head to look at me with a grimace, “I…uhhh…I don’t have any condoms. I wasn’t expecting…this.”

His rounded brown eyes were full of regret and maybe a little embarrassment at his admission. God, he’s perfect. I gave him a small smile, “I think I would’ve had more questions if you did have them.” He chuckled as I cupped his cheek, “It’s fine. I got the all clear and I’m on birth control…I trust you.”

His brows arched upwards as he shook his head, “I haven’t…with anyone. I swear”

I smiled against his lips, “I know…I told you, I trust you.”

He huffed out a sigh of relief, kissing me once more as he grabbed my ass and lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he walked toward the bedroom. He continued kissing me as he sank to his knees on the edge of the bed, managing to make it up far enough to lay me back on the pillows. He hovered above me on his elbows, fingertips in my hair as he kissed gently on my forehead, my nose, then my lips. He stared down at me for a moment, his eyes full of emotion, “I just want you to know that…with you…this does mean something to me.” I could feel my heart beating out of my chest from his admission. I kissed him back, deeply, before mummering a quiet “I know” against his plump bottom lip.

He gave me a soft smile, then sat up on his knees, his hands gently rubbing and massaging down my torso as he moved. His eyes followed their path, taking in every inch of my flesh. Seeing him like this, completely bare before me as he began stroking himself between my thighs, was easily the most erotic sight I had ever laid eyes on. His shoulders somehow looked broader from this angle, the muscles in his chest and arm flexed as he slowly slid his hand up and down his length. His messy curls were now hanging down over his lustful gaze, adding to his sexiness.

The way he looked at me was nothing short of obscene as he reached to rub at my inner thigh with his free hand, gently grazing his fingertips down to my ankle, then lifting my foot to rest on his shoulder. His hand continued to rub from the tips of my toes down my calf as he nuzzled his cheek against the inside of my foot. The softness of his touch juxtaposed with the scratchiness of his beard in such a sensitive spot caused a surge of electricity to course through my veins.

My cunt was suddenly aching to be touched. I couldn’t wait any longer. I surprised myself when my right hand found its way down to my folds to rub at the small bundle of nerves. My fingers briefly dipped down to collect some of the slick to smear around before continuing in my endeavor. My left hand moved to squeeze my breast. I was already feeling that familiar tingling sensation again with very little effort. Something about Dieter made me feel brazen and uninhibited unlike ever before. I never felt safe enough to be like this with Alec. I never felt any of this with Alec.

Dieter’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he watched me arch into my hands. His eyes flicking up from the apex of my thighs to meet my gaze ever so often to watch me, watching him. Neither of us said a word, our connection allowing us to silently communicate our feelings and needs as we shared this moment of mutual self-pleasure.

His hand moved to caress my ankle, his thumb pressing THAT spot again just below the ankle bone, causing jolts of pleasure to shoot through me. He tucked his chin, opening his mouth to graze his teeth against the spot his thumb had just vacated, causing a new prickling sensation to creep up to my aching core. I whimpered quietly at the feeling, his gaze meeting mine as he began to gently suck the area. His eyes shifted down to my center, now watching my fingers at work. I watched as his head dipped further, spit dripping from his mouth onto his cock as he continued to leisurely stroke himself, his thumb swiping over the sensitive tip as he moved. Something about his actions made me feel feral. It wasn’t a want anymore. I needed him.

Dieter must have sensed my growing need, suddenly lowering my leg and sliding his large hands around my hips. With a firm grip, he lifted them up off the mattress and notched himself at my entrance. I watched our reflections in the mirrored ceiling as he slowly sank in, stretching me around his length. The sight and feeling of him forced incoherent sounds from my lips. He let out a loud hiss through his teeth as he sunk in to the hilt. His eyes fluttered shut as his jaw went slack, his head briefly dropping back in ecstasy. The position he put me in had opened my hips up in a way they never had been during sex, allowing him in deeper, eliciting a pleasure I had never felt.

He leaned forward slightly, tucking one arm around my lower back, causing it to arch further, increasing the friction of his movements against my center. He set a steady rhythm, rolling his hips and thrusting upward in a way that hit all the right spots perfectly. His free hand slid up my abdomen to knead my breast and roll my nipples between his fingertips causing my skin to pebble all over. He let out a quiet moan at the way my body responded to his touch. I soon found myself fisting the sheets and coming undone again before he had even broken out into a sweat.

A satisfied smile slid across his face as I clenched down around him and groaned loudly with my release, “That’s it sweetheart, let it go.” His breathy voice was deeper and more husky than I had ever heard it. It was so fucking sexy. I wanted to tell him to stop calling me sweetheart, but deep down, it was only stoking the flames further. I think he knew it too, which is why he kept saying it.

He gently lowered my hips to the bed while I tried to catch my breath. He shifted to hover above me on his elbows, somehow managing to leave us joined through it all. His fingers worked to brush away the stray hairs that were sticking to my sweaty face, his lips trailing behind them. I caught his mouth with mine, kissing him deeply as my hands wandered over his body. He began moving again, tucking his knees under my thighs to slightly elevate my hips. I arched up into him as he hit just the right spot deep inside of me. The way he moved was causing the base of his cock to rub against my clit in a way that was already making my whole body quiver and shake toward another release as my legs tightened around his hips. One of his arms slid underneath my lower back, holding me snugly against his chest, further increasing the friction as he continued to massage my tongue with his.

All of his movements seemed to be calculated. Every touch and every angle were done with a single purpose - to give pleasure, not take it. He knew exactly what I needed and how to get me there. I didn’t have to tell him, because he was reading the cues. He was working my body in ways I never thought possible and satisfying every craving that I ever had that had gone unfulfilled. Yet, he was awakening a primal hunger that I didn’t think would ever be satiated.

He began to quicken the pace of his thrusts, which finally sent both of us over the edge together. The room filled with sounds of our heavy breathing and loud moans as he finally spilled into me. Our eyes remained locked on each other through our releases. It was intimate and unexpected, making my heart skip a few beats. He wasn’t afraid to show the vulnerable side of himself as he lost control - not holding back any of his soft whimpers. I found myself wanting to see it again and again.

Dieter nearly collapsed on top of me, burying his face in my neck as he worked to catch his breath. My fingers instinctively combed through his messy curls as I did the same. Eventually, he moved to kiss me again, nibbling on my chin as he pulled out with a groan to lay at my side. He was quiet for a few minutes, now seeming unsure of himself as he finally spoke up, “Do you want me to leave now?” His words came out almost in a whisper, sounding sad, like it was inevitable. He didn’t look my way, instead he stared toward the doorway as he waited for my response. I could see his expression in the mirrored ceiling. He looked sad, like he was fighting back his emotions.

I could feel my brows pinching together, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. “Why would I want you to leave?” I asked.

His lips set into a tight line as he shrugged, “Because people usually don’t want me to stay…after.”

I shifted to lay on my side so that I was facing him. I placed my hand under his chin, turning his head so he was looking at me, “I never want you to leave me after…”

He stared up at me with his sad puppy eyes before turning his body to face mine, burying his face in my side and hugging my thighs against his chest. “Is this ok?” he asked against my bare skin. My fingers moved back to strum through his hair, “Of course it is. It always will be.”

I suddenly felt sad for him, wondering what had happened in his life that would make him ask those questions. I had the overwhelming urge to shower him in affection. I had a feeling he hadn’t gotten a lot of that, in recent years at least. Then again, I hadn’t really had that either.

I felt his hand rub up and down the back of my thigh, his head suddenly popped up to look at me, “Did you still wanna soak in the tub? I know the last few days have been tough on you. I don’t want you to be sore or anything. I can get it ready for you…if you want?”

I glanced at the clock, it was almost 11:30 PM. “I dunno, it’s getting late.”

Dieter kissed my hip, “If you wanna sleep in, I’ll go grab us some breakfast in the morning.”

I smiled, “You’re making that really hard to turn down, Bravo.”

He was massaging my hip now, with a small smile on his lips. It felt amazing.

“I wanna take care of you. Gotta keep these hips in working order,” he leaned down and kissed where he had just been rubbing as his hand slid down to grip my ass cheek.

He’s definitely an ass man. I laughed, “Ok, fine. You win, but only if you join me.”

He smiled against my skin, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I stretched out on the bed, watching as he moved around the room to prepare the bath, still completely naked and confident. As he waited for it to fill, he gathered towels from the bathroom then added salts to the water, occasionally checking the temperature. Once it was halfway full, he stepped in and sat down, “Oooh fuck, this might be too hot.”

I laughed, “That means it’s perfect then.”

He shook his head, muttering out, “Nope. Nope. Nope.” Then he moved to adjust the temperature of the running water.

Once he settled against the backrest, I got up to join him, piling my hair up into a messy bun along the way. He spread his legs wide so I could sit between his thighs and lean against his chest. I scoffed, “Nope. It could be warmer.” I sat up to adjust the temperature again while he laughed. We were quiet until the tub was full. I reached to shut off the water then got comfortable against him. His thumbs moved to massage into my neck, then down the back side of my shoulders. After several minutes, the rest of his fingers joined in, digging into the top muscles. His motions elicited a quiet moan from me as my head dropped back to his chest. His fingers made their way to the front side, massaging around the base of my neck, then moved down the sides of my arms.

My eyes drifted closed, “Mmm, I wasn’t aware that a massage was part of this.”

Dieter’s lips brushed against my ear, “I told you, I wanna take care of you. That position I had you in can do a number on your neck and back.”

I sighed, “I’m not really sure what to do with this. I’m not used to aftercare.”

He scoffed, “That shouldn’t surprise me. I hope he was at least a decent lay.”

I laughed, “No. He wasn’t. He fucking sucked. I usually had to take care of things myself. He was a very selfish lover. Always wanting and taking. Half the time I just felt like his plaything to be used as he saw fit, then discarded when he was done. He typically didn’t stick around after either.”

Dieter nuzzled into my neck, “That’s a terrible feeling that I know all too well. I promise, I’ll never do that to you.”

I turned so that I could see his face, “I’ll never do it to you either…People would really ask you to leave after?”

He pursed his lips in thought, “Yeah, I mean…it was just hookups. It was never meant to be more than that. Either they asked me to leave, or they would leave without a word. It was better in a lot of ways…didn’t have to go through the awkward morning after thing. It’s just sort of what I’ve come to expect I guess.”

I turned away, now staring at the water, “Why did you do it?”

He sighed, squirming under me a little, “Ummm, that’s more complicated. Most of the time I was so coked out I’m not even sure if I knew what I was doing. Other times, it was an escape…to feel something else and nothing else at the same time…but there was never any connection there. It was just about forgetting my problems and having a fun time.”

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, suddenly worried that’s all this was to him. An escape. He must have sensed it because his arms tightened around me as he leaned his cheek against mine, “It’s not like that with you. Don’t worry. I told you…this means something to me. You’re making me feel things I didn’t know possible…want things I’ve never wanted because I was too afraid.”

His voice wavered, which took me by surprise. I turned to face him again, searching his sad eyes. “What were you afraid of?” I asked.

He reached to entwine his fingers with mine on his chest, his eyes turning glassy as he stared at them, “In simple terms…rejection, abandonment, pain, loss. I didn’t feel like I was worthy of being loved. There’s a lot to unpack there, and I don’t wanna do that tonight. I just wanna be with you.”

I smiled, releasing his hand and reaching to pull his face toward mine so I could look at him. We took each other in for a moment before he leaned down and captured my lips with his. I shifted to straddle his thighs as his arms snaked around me. We spent some time making out as our hands explored each other. It never progressed beyond that. I couldn’t remember the last time I had an intimate moment like this that didn’t turn sexual. It was actually kind of nice just being together. When we finally broke apart, Dieter buried his face in my chest, and hugged me tightly. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, my fingers instinctively going to his fluffy curls. He sighed contentedly, “I can’t believe this is happening right now.”

I chuckled, “I honestly can’t either…”

“You fought a good fight. I wasn’t sure if you were gonna give in or not,” he mumbled out against my neck.

I scoffed, “Excuse me? You didn’t know I was into you.”

I felt his rumbling laugh, “Oh I one hundred percent did.”

I tugged his hair to lean his head back so I could look at him, “Since when?”

He shrugged, “Since last week for sure.”

My head shook from side to side in disbelief, “And here I thought I was doing a good job at hiding it.”

He laughed, “Maybe for a little while, but no, not recently…I think the water is getting cold.”

I puffed air out of my cheeks, “Yeah it is.”

I slid back off his thighs, then he moved to stand and grab a towel. After helping me to my feet, he began drying me off. Once he was satisfied, he tucked the towel in around my torso, then gave my ass a squeeze as I stepped out of the tub. I squealed, reaching for his towel, then turned to return the favor of getting him dry.

As I rubbed the towel over his chest, I suddenly felt shy as I asked, “Are you gonna stay with me tonight?”

He smirked, “If you want me to…I mean, I was kinda planning on it…”

Relief flooded through me. I couldn’t meet his eyes as I spoke, “Good. I wasn’t sure…”

His fingers found their way to my chin and lifted it upward so that I was looking at him, “I’m gonna be wherever you are until you tell me to fuck off.” I couldn’t help laughing. He always had a way with words.

We didn’t even bother to get dressed before snuggling into bed, tangling our limbs together and making out like a couple of teenagers. I wanted to feel all of him as I drifted off to sleep and I made sure he knew it. He didn’t hesitate to wrap himself around me once we finally settled down. It was the best night’s sleep I had had in a very long time, and I knew it was because of him.

Next: Week 5 (Part 4)

A/N: Are you all screaming right now? I'm screaming because FINALLY! Took them long enough, right? Could that build up have been any slower? Dieter was taking a chance when he asked to keep going...it was a rather delicate dance on his part. We will hear from him in Part 4, which I currently have no ETA on as I haven't started it yet. (I know, I'm SORRY!)

Poor Kat just couldn't catch a break in this chapter. Just when she was finally going to do something about her little ache, Dieter had to ruin it. He was literally driving her crazy in every way possible. 🤭

What do you think about Dieter's song choices? Was he trying to make a statement?

Can we talk about how much he wants to take care of her (and honestly enjoys it)? He's too damn cute.

Also, can we talk about the sex? Do you think he's about to give Kat some new experiences? If so, how open do you think she'll be to them?

We got some small revelations about Dieter's past. What are your thoughts on that? We have more to unpack there...

✨This chapter's video is a little different. It was made by two of the dance professionals from DWTS (who are married in real life). I love watching these two dance together because their chemistry is off the charts. They are dancing to the same song that Dieter and Kat will be dancing the Rumba too. Honestly, I think their version is better than the one from the actual music video. Give it a watch and enjoy!

Click HERE for the video.

✨THE LIFTS: I’ve included gifs for reference on the lifts. The first two gifs go together. I had to split them because tumblr has a ridiculous size limit.😒

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #dancing dieter #soft dieter #cat dad dieter #plant dad dieter #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fluff #slow burn #closed position series

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lilacheavenxo · 4 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 ➸ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨

summary: carmen's girlfriend gets a job offer too good to pass up, he doesn't want her to take it. word count: warnings: angst, hurt (minimal comfort), misogyny, swearing, toxicity, timeline is sketchy, third person, unnamed ofc (she's a blank slate), light sexual content

The sound of the faucet dripping in the kitchen was the only sound coming from the otherwise silent apartment.

It was always silent nowadays.

She sat in the living room, wringing her hands together nervously as she fought the urge to re-read the email on her cellphone, which had been tossed on the coffee table in a haste.

The email bore good news. She had been waiting for an offer like that for most of her adult life—finally, an opportunity to do what she loved and be paid for it.

She had been a musician for as long as she could remember. Her dad had bought her a guitar for her ninth birthday, and from that moment, she knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life. She had spent her college fund on moving to New York, a dream of making it big clouding any smidge of rationality an eighteen-year-old could possess.

It hadn't worked out the way she wanted, and she was forced to move back to Chicago without a dollar to her name. Living with her parents and waiting tables for a living, she would play gigs in dive bars whenever she got the chance - a pathetic reminder of her failure.

It hadn't been all bad. One of those dive bar gigs was how she met Carmen Berzatto, at least.

He had walked into the bar halfway through her set, and, despite the white light in her eyes, she noticed him immediately. He was trying to blend in, his shoulders slumped as he made his way to the bar, hanging his head down as soon as he had ordered his drink, but she still saw him.

He had complimented her when her set ended and she slid onto the barstool next to his.

"You have a nice voice."

Everything following that night had happened quickly - too quickly.

They were friends first. He would come into the bar whenever he could, maybe stop at the diner where she worked on his way to work, and she would meet him at his restaurant when everybody had left, sitting on his work station, watching him sweep the floor.

Nothing had happened between them until after she had moved in with him. He had offered her his spare room after she finished another rant about how pathetic it was to live with her parents at her age.

She had only slept in the spare room for one week.

She loved Carmen Berzatto, and she was sure he loved her too, though he never said it. She didn't take it personally; when he responded to her declarations with a smile or a kiss, she knew he was just scared.

"You make me happy," he would whisper to her in the quiet apartment when he returned home at an ungodly hour.

That was good enough for her.

The jingling of keys in the lock snapped her out of her thoughts. She sat up straighter on the couch, waiting until Carmen appeared in the living room, his head down and shoulders slumped.

"He jumped slightly when he spotted her on the couch, a dim lamp illuminating the living room.

"You're still up?" he asked, as he made his way to the couch and threw himself down next to her.

She hummed in response, moving closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around her shoulders.

"How was your day?" she mumbled, already knowing what his answer would be.

"Same as usual. Fuckin' bullshit."

"Wanna talk about it?" She knew the answer to that one, too.

"No."

"Wanna talk at all?" she asked, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. She rested her hand on the spot she had kissed, gently pulling his head down to meet her mouth with his. He sighed into the kiss, his arm moving from her shoulder to cup her neck. As he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth, he let out a laugh when she swung her legs over him, positioning herself to straddle him.

"You seem happy," he mumbled when she moved her lips to his neck, grazing her teeth against his adam's apple as her hands began to move lower, fliddling with the buckle of his belt.

"I got some good news today, feel like celebrating," she said.

"Oh yeah?" Carmen asked, a gasp escaping his lips when her hand moved to cup him through his jeans. "What news?"

"I'll tell you later."

"Tell me now, I wanna celebrate with you," he gently grabbed her arm, linking her hand in his. Her lips paused on his neck, and he could feel the smile creeping up on her face.

"Okay," she relented, lifting her head up to rest her forehead against his. "You remember Callum?"

Carmen frowned, trying to recall, but eventually shook his head and shrugged.

"Callum, Carmy," she said, eyes widening in disbelief when he shrugged again. "Callum! The guy I worked with in New York, he moved to Chicago last year and we played a gig together? He plays the guitar."

"Wait!" Carmen sat up straighter, and she held on to his shoulders as not to fall. "The creepy guy? The one that wouldn't leave you alone the whole night?"

"Creepy? What? No," she frowned. "Callum."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Creepy Callum, that's what we called him."

"We?"

"Me and Richie."

"Ugh," she groaned, sliding off his lap to sit beside him. "Callum isn't a creep, Carm. He's my friend."

"Anyone tell him that?"

She ignored him, wrapping arm arm around his shoulder, and resting her cheek against his. "You wanna hear my good news or not?"

"Sorry," Carmen sighed, leaning into her touch, and placing a hand on her knee. "Go on."

"Well," she tucked her legs under her thighs, leaning an elbow on the back of the couch to face him. "Callum's band have got this gig as a supporting artist for the US leg of this other guy's tour. He's not super famous or anything, but he's got a pretty big following, y'know?"

Carmen nodded, his eyes locked on hers, and he gestured for her to continue.

"Well," she said, rolling her eyes, "their lead singer left the band because of 'artistic differences' or whatever. And Callum has asked me to take her place! Can you believe it?" She squealed, grabbing his arm and shaking it slightly.

Carmen didn't respond, his body growing tense under touch, and the dazzling smile on her face slowly dropped at her boyfriend's silence.

"Carm?" she nudged him, lightly. "Isn't that great?"

"Yeah," he choked out, standing up from the couch and clearing his throat. "Yeah, congratulations, I guess."

He didn't look her in the eye as he headed towards the fire escape, muttering that he needed a smoke.

She didn't follow him.

An hour later, he climbed back through the window and sighed when he saw her still sitting on the couch, nervously chewing her thumbnail.

"We good, Carm?" she asked, her voice timid.

He ignored her question, leaning on the wall opposite the couch, and crossing his arms over his chest. "When?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Uh, next month. It's short notice because of the other girl-"

"How long?"

"Like three months, there's only like two shows a week, maybe you could come and visit me-"

Carmen cut her off with a humourless laugh, sneering when he saw the confusion on her face.

"You're kidding, right?" he scoffed. "You know how busy I am. You think I can just drop everything to chase you around the fucking country?"

"No," she muttered. "No, of course not. I know how busy you are, Carmen." The bitterness in her tone was palpable.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she shrugged, standing up from the couch and trying to push past him, but he blocked her path.

"If you've got something to say, say it," he said in a menacing tone, and she rolled her eyes in response.

"I have nothing to say to you."

She tried to move past him again, but he blocked her with his arm once more, his eyes piercing into hers. They stayed in a silent starting competition for what felt like hours before she scoffed, shaking her head.

"It's funny," she said. "You work endless hours at the restaurant, coming home at God knows what hour, and I support you because I love you and believe in your dreams. But you can't seem to do the same for me."

He threw his head back as he laughed, it was a cruel laugh, and it pierced her heart.

"Your dream?" he sneered, and she shrinked back. "Your fuckin' dream? Lemme tell you about your dream, sweetheart - it's pathetic." She shook her head at his words, but it didn't deter him. "You're a grown fucking woman still singing dive bars in Chicago! What? You think a tour of every dive bar in America with a few washed up assholes will finally be your big break?" he shook his head at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "Grow up."

He turned on his heel to leave the room, not interested in what she had to say, pausing in the doorway when she called out to him.

"I'm going on that tour, Carm. I sing because I enjoy it, because it brings me happiness. I'm not trying to prove anything to anyone. Unlike you."

He left the room, and the apartment, without another word.

Carmen didn't go home until the following evening.

He had gone straight to the Bear after their fight, not really having any other option, and sat in the office with his head in his hands for longer than he'd like to admit, the events of the evening repeating in his brain like a stupid pop song you can never get out of your head.

He shouldn't have reacted like that, he knew it.

A better man would have congratulated her.

A better man would have told her how proud he was, and pushed any doubt to the back of his mind and let her have her moment.

A better man wouldn't have belittled her achievement because of his own abandonment issues.

But, Carmen Berzatto wasn't a better man. He wasn't even sure he was a good one.

He thought about his family, how even in their most fucked up moments, they were always proud of him. They had never tried to force him to stay in Chicago when he had a better offer elsewhere, how they never dismissed his talents just because they didn't want him to leave.

He thought about Mikey. He thought about how he wouldn't let him work at 'The Beef', how bad that felt, but how Mikey was doing it for his own good. His brother wanted him to achieve things, wanted him to go out in the world and not be tied down by some toxic arrangement that would never make him happy.

He thought about how he hadn't done any of that for her.

He had been selfish.

He had talked down to her, patronised her, all because she would be gone for three months.

Three fucking months.

He fucked up.

He arrived back to the apartment the next evening, a box of cannolis from a bakery she liked under one arm, a bouquet of her favourite flowers under the other.

He wasn't good at apologies, especially in a relationship, but it was the best he could think of, and all he could do was pray she forgave him. She probably would, she always forgave him - even when he didn't deserve it.

Carmen had planned his apology the whole way home. He would hand her the cannolis and flowers, and he would tell her how proud he was of her, how he didn't care if she was going to be gone for a year - that he'd support her no matter what.

The apartment was silent when he entered, and eerily still. He called out her name and there was no response, but he expected that - she was a fan of the silent treatment, after all.

He checked the bedroom after his eyes scanned the living area and kitchen, not finding her there. The bed was perfectly made, no sign she had slept in it last night, amd the bathroom door was ajar, no sign of life anywhere.

He threw the gifts he got her on the bed, wiping his hands over his face as he made his way back to the living room and taking a seat on the couch, trying not to jump to the worst conclusion.

He noticed the folded up piece of paper on the coffee table after he removed his hands from his face, her cursive writing causing a sickening feeling to swirl in his stomach.

He unfolded the paper slowly, as if his patience would somehow change the words she had written on it.

Carmen,

Callum said I can crash at his apartment until we go on tour - it'll be good to get some rehearsals in.

When I get back, I think it's best we don't see each other.

I hope you'll be able to find what truly makes you happy.

I love you.

He threw the note to the ground, running his hands through his hair.

He fucked up.

#carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #the bear fanfiction

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myownwholewildworld · 2 months ago

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acta, non verba - ii. there is no treachery in the art of war

chapter 1 | series masterlist | ao3 | main masterlist | chapter 3 pairing: conqueror!marcus acacius x ofc!reader. summary: you need to start moving the game along, but you cannot be too obvious. or... can you? a/n: hello there! c: here's the second chapter! there is quite a bit of character & world building in this one, as i felt it served the storyline, so i hope you guys like it! i wanted to thank you all for your nice, encouring words on the first chapter, it really motivated me to keep on writing! you guys are amazing 💖 as always, all interactions welcome, i do appreciate you liking, sharing and/or commenting! take care <3 warnings: 18+, mdni. references to marital abuse (physical and sexual) and child marriage (massive age gap, not in a cutesy way), in line with the time this story is set on. mentions of death/murder. mention of infertility. sexual tension galore (👀). a smidge of angst. w/c: ~8.6k. dividers by @saradika-graphics taglist at the end (let me know if you want to be added/removed please!)

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s a good idea, Callie”, Torcall sombrely warned you, his eyes locking on yours over the wooden spoon he tightly gripped close to his mouth.

“And what would you have me do then?”, you sneeringly replied back.

Your brother-in-law had been pestering you the whole morning about what your plan was to win your lands back. You knew the long game was your best bet — you didn’t have the numbers to face Rome on your own. Your athair had tried and failed in his attempt. Another defeat like the one your people suffered in Raedykes would destroy your clan. It would wipe you out off the map — everything your ancestors had worked for, gone under the crushing yoke of the Romans.

“I would not have you whoring yourself out to a fucking Roman, that’s for sure. Your athair would be so disappointed in you.” He snapped back at you, anger flowing in his words.

His reply stung badly, so much you unconsciously crossed your arms at chest level — an unvoluntary gesture to protect yourself from his accusation.

“That’s beyond the point”, you barked, the green of your irises burning like hellish fire. “And my father would be just fine with my decision. Need I remind you who he married me off to?”

Torcall’s knuckles went white as his fingers pressed around the spoon harshly. You cocked a brow, unwavering.

Ten years ago, your athair had reached an agreement with Iain of Am Baile Ùr(Insh), the lord of Badenoch whose state was a few miles south of your birthplace. For as long as Caledonia had formed, there had always been internal disputes about who was the rightful heir to the Overlord title.

The clan who held the stronghold at Inbhir Nis had historically always been considered the legitimate title’s holder. Your family had been the keepers of the land for as long as anyone could remember. But it didn’t stop those who were thirsty for power, so your father had to prove himself over and over again.

After several bloody skirmishes, Murdoch of Inbhir Nis had crowned himself, yet again, lord and master of Caledonia. Iain had been a strong contestant against your father and was only appeased when your athair offered you as a consolation prize to him, as if you were a lamb up for sale at the local market. A cheap one at that.

At the tender age of six and ten, you had been shipped off to an unknown land to be wife to a man you had never seen before. The next ten years of your life would be living hell — what you had to endure, you would not wish it upon your worst enemy.

The memories that would crawl back at night would still wake you up, a cold sweat trickling down your spine every time. Abuse in your arranged marriage was your bread and butter. Every time you returned home under the prying, controlling eyes of Iain or your family came to visit, you would lie to them about the new bruise on your cheek, the limp you had for a couple of weeks or the teeth marks on your neck. Murdoch was the last to realise, unable to come to terms with the destiny he had forced upon you. And by the time he did, there was not much he could do without infuriating Iain, without risking another war.

The peace of the Caledonians outweighed your suffering, after all. You were not worth such a bloodshed.

So you pushed through it all and survived — for family, for clan, for honour. Never resented your father either; he had a duty to protect his tribe, and so did you. For a decade you dragged yourself across ember and ash, until you finally caught a break six months ago.

Iain was found dead in the marital bed, his eyes wide open and his expression struck with horror, as if a wraith had taken his life. At the mature age of six and sixty, you had been his third wife, so when his only son and heir from his first marriage ascended, you were no longer needed. With no family of your own tying you to that ghostly place, you packed your things and swiftly left, the Will' O' the Wisps guiding you home.

“I didn’t mean it that way”, his answer burst out in a pitiful whisper. One of your eyebrows raised even further into your forehead. “I’m sorry.”

You sighed, unfolding your arms and looking at the cold broth in front of you. Grabbing the spoon again, you swirled it in the bowl aimlessly. You didn’t need your most trusted ally questioning your decisions, not when the whole clan depended on your actions. At least he was doing so in the intimacy of a crannog and not in front of your folk.

“I’m just trying my best, Torcall. I know I can win our freedom back, so I need you to have some faith in me. How I get to the endgame is up to me. The means justify the end.” Your words were imbued with unfaltering determination.

“I do trust you, Callie. With my life and the lives of my children”, he mumbled solemnly with a curtsy as his eyes drifted to the other end of the room.

Your niece and nephew, whom you loved dearly, were obliviously playing with some wooden swords their father had handcrafted a while back. They were six years of age, both born during the cold winter months. The twins had filled the blackhole in your heart, one that your marriage had not been able to lade.

“Ah, ye brute!” Your nephew, Daimh, let the sword slip from his fingers to hold his hand close to his chest. “You’ve hurt me, Iona!”

His little feet dabbed towards you, raising his injured hand in the air.

“Auntaidh (auntie), Iona has broken my fingers, look!”, he wept while you cradled his hand.

“Oh, come on here, mo laochain (my little hero). Let me see”, you said while rubbing his hand between yours and kissing it where it hurt.

“What a wimpy!”, Iona complained, running to her father. “I won, daddy!” Her proud, high-pitched voice squealed in excitement, and you couldn’t hide your smile.

“I’m going to tell màthair (mother)!”, Daimh blew raspberries at his sister, and she reciprocated from the other side of the table.

Your heart sunk to your stomach at the mention of Maisie, tears welling up at the corner of your eyes. Both you and Torcall had explained to them that their mother had been reunited with Dhuosnos, God of the Dead, but they were too little to fully understand what that entailed, what it truly meant.

“When is mama coming back from Tech Duinn (House of Dhuosnos), daddy? I miss her dearly”, Iona’s innocent words ripped at your heart.

Torcall and you exchanged mournful glances.

“Aye, me too”, exclaimed Daimh as he snuggled in your arms.

“So do we, sweet pea, so do we”, you mumbled as you kissed the crown of his blonde head.

Daimh stirred in your arms, his green eyes piercing yours. He looked so much like his mother that it was painful. Maisie and you had the same emerald irises, although she had been blonde. Daimh and Iona were living images of her.

“When can we go home? This place smells funny”, your nephew questioned while he sat on your lap.

You wished you could tell him. Your whole family had been living in the castle that now Marcus Acacius occupied. Torcall and his children could not risk staying there, not when the threat of death was hanging above them. If the Romans knew your sister had offspring, they would hunt them down.

Despite the adversity, you had been lucky in a sense. The highlanders had always been wary of strangers — outsiders brought tragedy with them, in the way of disease or war. The Caledonians had learnt to keep their distance, to be extremely cautious. So, when the General and his army arrived, no one spoke of your family, not even when questioned.

Your people, despite the differences that had them at each other’s throats some years back, were loyal to you. And it was their fealty what enabled your plan, what allowed you to pretend, to just be another servant girl.

So Torcall, his children and you had sought refuge in the skirts of town. Your uncail Aengus’ wife had welcomed you into her home.

The crannog was a circular hut with a straw roof, the walls made of mud, rocks, wood. There was only one big, round room, with an open hearth which kept the inside warm. The open shelving gathered some necessary clutter, but there were many things scattered around the place. There were only three beds lined up against the wall, which meant that you shared a bed with Iona and Torcall with his son. Your cousins had moved out to the small barn just a few feet away to make room for you.

It was cramped and very modest in comparison to the thick walls of your castle, but it was a roof over your heads. You were extremely grateful to her. Your heart still wept at the memory of telling her the demise of her husband.

“Soon we will, but in the meantime, we are keeping Bonnie and her sons company. And this place smells just fine. Are you sure it’s not you, you stinky little deamhan (demon)?”, you jested, pinching his nose and then tickling his ribs.

His laughter was a soothing balm on your aching, longing heart.

“Was everything as expected, Dominus?” His Roman servant asked, his head bowed to him.

Marcus patted the corners of his mouth with the rag on his lap and then nodded to Atticus. The food was somewhat decent, a venison stew with some root vegetables he could not identify. The bread, unsurprisingly, was a bit stale, so he had left it untouched.

The great hall was lugubrious, silence filling up the atmosphere. There were two other maids in the room, cowering in a corner with averted eyes. They only spoke a barbarian language he had no wish to learn. Communication with the natives was extremely difficult, as they seemed to be uneducated.

But there was one lass who knew how to speak Latin — you, Callie.

He wondered where you had gone. Marcus had not seen you since your encounter in his new-found bedchamber. It had been three days since then and with each passing one, he found himself searching the room for you. There was something about you that had reeled him in but was unsure of what it was. Maybe it was the eerie, magical aura that surrounded your fiery hair — or maybe it was the way you carried yourself, the way you had briefly but decisively held his gaze. The way you quickly retreated — unwillingly.

Marcus imperceptibly shook his head and waved his hand at Atticus, motioning for him to pour another cup of the bitter wine.

“Yes”, he simply replied, bringing the wooden chalice to his lips.

Atticus signalled the young women to come forward and they quickly cleared the table of dishes and cutlery. When he was alone with his servant, away from enemies’ ears, he signalled at Atticus, who quickly stepped forward.

“Fetch my commanders and bring them here. There are matters I need to discuss with them”, Marcus demanded of him.

His attendant curtsied and vanished from the great hall, leaving him alone.

Marcus was taking in every detail of the room, of the tapestries and their stories, when a scattering sound distracted him. He thought to hear a commotion, then a blasphemy. Curious, he stood up, stepped off the dais and sauntered towards the double doors. The door was slightly ajar, so he only had to push it for it to swing open.

There was nothing in the corridor except for a distinct scent. Rosemary and thyme with a hint of something unrecognisable, he identified. A smell that had loitered in his bedchamber once you left. Wrinkling his aquiline nose, he caught something in the corner of his eye. He turned to see how a shadow dissipated at the end of the corridor.

Furrowing his brows and in long strides, Marcus covered the distance, tracking the distinct aroma — like a lost man after the beckoning of a nymph, he followed. As he was about to turn the corner, he almost collided with Maximus, Valerius and Cassius.

“My lord,” Cassius was the first to talk, “we were on our way to you. You wished to see us?”

Marcus tried to conceal his confusion at the sight of the three men. With his head slightly tilted, he asked, “Did you encounter anyone on your way to me, Commander?”

Cassius slowly shook his head no, baffled by the question. “No, Dominus, no one. Were you expecting someone else?”

The General hmphed, taciturn. He needed to be cautious — if the tapestries were right, ungodly, mythical creatures lingered between the walls of the castle. Evil ones at that.

“Worry not”, Marcus rapidly dismissed. “Follow me, gentlemen.”

The four men sat at the rectangular table on the dais, Marcus’ fingers drumming on the wood as Maximus flattened a piece of parchment before him.

“These are some names that have been thrown around in the last few days, people who may act on their rebellious comments. Our spies have been trying their best to mix in with the townies, but they are tough nuts to crack. They are wary even of the people who speak their own language”, Maximus’ index finger slid down the list as he talked.

Marcus’ hand darted forward and pinched one corner of the parchment, pulling it towards him. His eyes scanned the unfamiliar names.

The barbarians did not use surnames, which spoke to their lack of sophistication. Instead, they used patronyms and the land where they were born, so the list made it difficult to identify individuals who might belong to the same family. Knowing what families were a menace would be a great advantage, one they did not have.

“There seems to be a recurrent name here”, Marcus paused, his fingertip pointing to the words scribbled in lead ink. “Seumas and Anndra of Dail an Eich (Dalneigh), sons of Aengus. Who is this Aengus?”, he questioned, looking up to the frowning faces.

“We are not sure, Dominus. As I said, the villagers are not talking much”, Cassius replied, his fingers intertwined, resting atop of the wooden table.

“Well, find out then. I don’t care how you get the information. Just get it”, Marcus’ back reclined against the chair he was sat on. He felt like they were wasting his time with trivial details. He needed more than that.

“You didn’t get Murdoch’s wife to talk, even when she was hanged half dead in a cage off the main tower, after being brutally tortured and whatever else you inflicted upon her, and you expect us to get names just like that?”, Valerius’ insolence spoke for him.

Marcus’ eyes lazily locked on his commander’s. He should have his ill-mannered tongue cut out for such disdainful arrogance. Valerius’ Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he forcefully swallowed, his eyes slightly widened, realising his impertinence.

Whispers flew around the town; his name being cursed from mouth to mouth. Marcus was not too worried about whatever rumours they could spread about him. They probably would be true — he was no saint.

But Marcus had not been the one who had ordered such distasteful death upon Mòrag, wife of Murdoch. Agricola did, with no respect for his name when he dropped it mid-sentence. Marcus did not even lay an eye on her, even less a hand.

Let them all think what they might. Marcus was used to being the scapegoat of the governor — when something went wrong, Agricola would blame him. And when something went right, he would just take credit for himself, the evil, power-thirsty rat.

He looked at Valerius dead in his eyes, one cocked brow showing his mild incredulity.

“Do you have something to say, Valerius? I hear a certain condemning tone in your words?”, his voice was flat, devoid of emotion, but the reality was there was a raging fire within him he could not make manifest.

“Absolutely not, my lord”, the man bowed his head to him, his knuckles white.

“Then be gone. All of you. Find those two men or I will have you hanged too.”

The resolution in his tone scared the seasoned warriors, who quickly said their goodbyes and hurriedly left the premises.

Marcus’ elbows sunk in the wooden table, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He was angry, but amongst all, he was tired — tired of masking, of cleaning up after Agricola’s hideous actions, of power plays, of trickery, betrayal and deception. He was surrounded by it all.

At eight and forty, he was tired of war and conquest. He had seen it all, lived it all. If retirement would be an option, he would gladly take it. But he knew — he would wield a sword till the day he died in a godforsaken battlefield, till Pluto welcomed him with open arms. Rome would not have him any other way.

Marcus Acacius was truly exhausted.

So it was him who had your beautiful màthair tortured and hanged in a cage until she greeted death. Your blood boiled as your breath quickened. The rage flickered inside you like wild flames burning down an entire civilisation.

When the rangers announced your arrival to a few selected loyal men who had stayed behind, they got out at night to cut the ropes holding the cage your mother had been thrown in. They did not want you to see such act of savagery.

Your kinsmen had really tried to conceal how badly damaged your mother’s body was. Despite the heartache, you had been grateful that they had gone to the effort of making her somewhat presentable. But one look at her mangled body had been enough to understand what type of wickedness you were up against.

In the dead of night, you had buried Mòrag, the woman who so selflessly gave you life, in the outskirts of town. Just like her other children and husband, she would not rest under the family’s chambered cairns. Your family had been wiped out of history as if they were mere droplets in a vast ocean of human tragedy.

With one ear flat against the wooden door to the great hall, you unknowingly squinted your eyes, trying to listen to the rest of the conversation. If someone caught you eavesdropping, you would have a lot of explaining to do. But so far your spying was being productive — you would need to warn your cousins when you got home that night.

The faint sound of approaching footsteps made your heart jolt in your chest.

“Cac (shite)!”, you swore, frantically looking for a place to stow yourself away.

Picking up your skirt so you would not trip, you hid in a nearby garderobe. The cupboard smelt sweet and musty — barrels of wine decorated the whole height of the stone walls. The scent was so intense, you felt it soaking through your skin, appeasing the craze that had a tight grip on your mind. The darkness that surrounded you only accentuated your sense of smell. Could you get inebriated just with the sugary aroma of grape juice?

When the booted treads slowly faded away, you quietly pushed the door open, emerging back into the cold corridor — the contrasting temperature between the garderobe and the hallway gave you goosebumps. Palm flat against the wood and the other hand tightly gripping the iron pull handle, you gently shoved the door back into its frame, hoping to make no noise.

“What are you doing?”, a deep, masculine voice startled you, making you jump on the spot.

A set of warm, firm arms wrapped around you as you stumbled with your feet. They enveloped you so steadfastly, your body involuntarily relaxed against the person behind you. Leaning back, your back met the cold touch of metal.

Swallowing a profanity that would bring a repenting clergyman down to his knees, you turned around, in the arms that held you tight, to face the embodiment of hate. Your hate.

Marcus Acacius was standing, all righteous and proud, intimately close to you. He was wearing an impeccable white armour with golden details. Two flaxen griffins adorned the center of the plackart, their claws wrapping around a floral design. Linen straps, snug around his hips, fell from his waist, covering the fauld and the tasset underneath.

Marcus’ body was a fountain of warmth, even with all the layers enfolding his frame. His arms, although tense around you, did not feel suffocating — in fact, they were almost coddling you into a state of ataraxia as your brain quietened. His hug exuded a sense of security you had not felt in years — as if nothing nor no one could ever harm you as long as you stayed in Marcus’ embrace.

You traced the topography of his plackart with your fingers, your palms resting against the alloy, as your eyes peeked up —he was considerably taller than you— and were met with the fervour of two brown irises. Their gravity pulled you in for an eternal second. With your face near his, you picked up on the tired bearing on his face, the wrinkles around his eyes, the hard press of his lips. A kempt but patchy beard coated his jawline, and salt and peppered hair curled at the nape of his thick, muscular neck — a stray silver lock caressing his forehead, asking to be tucked away.

Your fingertips suddenly itched with longing, your eyes slightly widened, and your mouth partially parted. And then you came back to reality with the full force of your conscience yapping at you. What the hell? You had to control the contortion of your face so your disappointment would not be evident. It’s because I want to slap him so bad, was your afterthought.

Something changed in his expression — Marcus suddenly let you go, leaving you cold again. As if it was a rehearsed move, you both took a step back, breaking the electric contact that snapped between your bodies.

You now realised his clean image was a shocking contrast to how you first met him. Covered in mud, blood and sweat, his untamed expression as he dispatched your father still haunted you at night. And that was how you had to remember him. Sinking his gladius in your father’s belly. And nothing else.

“Well?”, the General insisted after clearing his throat, his eyebrows knitting together as he folded his arms.

You rapidly lowered your gaze when you realised you had been looking at him too intently, too directly. A maid would have fainted at the audacity you had just shown him. But you were no maid — albeit he was not privy of such detail for obvious reasons.

You hoped he didn’t notice, although you could feel his eyes studying you eagerly.

“I— I was looking for wine, Dominus.” You faked the stammering in an attempt to convey innocence. “Cormag, the cook, wants a very specific wine to accompany your supper, Dux Meus (My General/Leader). I was making sure we had it.”

“And what wine is that, if I dare ask?”, he pressed with a steely voice.

Thalla gu taigh na galla (go to hell), you thought, browsing your brain for a quick reply.

“It’s a fine wine imported from Carmo, my lord.” Your father had been a wine enthusiast, so you knew some places he had his wine shipped from. Not that it really meant anything to you, anyway.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his arms falling to his sides, his threatening posture softening.

“Carmo? In the Baetic region of Hispania?”, Marcus’ incredulous voice made you glance up at him through your long eyelashes.

You nodded, your fingers laced at your front as you bowed your head again, showing a deference you didn’t really feel towards him. And you prayed there was at least a few drops left of said wine in one of the barrels, or you would be in trouble come dinner.

“That’s one of my favourites”, he let slip and you instantly knew he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

Feigning bravery, you fanned your eyelashes back at him, a half-smile softening your lips. The General almost looked mortified at the fact of letting a stranger know about his likes. You could see it in his eyes — the brief moment of asking himself, “What have I just said?” Although he seemed all stoic and unattainable, he was just a man. Just like any other.

“Is that so?” You did not wait for a reply you knew would never come. “I’ll try and remember that, Dominus, to make sure we never run out.”

He was a hard man to read, you would give him that. His expression didn’t flinch, as if your words had gone over his head. The only sign he had actually listened was a subtle tic on his jaw.

You just needed to drop some hints here and there, let him brew. If you were too obvious with your intentions, Marcus would become suspicious. You knew nothing about the man except he was a cold-blooded murderer, but perceived he was observant. Probably too observant.

“If you’ll excuse me, my lord, I wish to retire now so I can attend to my tasks.” Asking for permission was not something that came naturally to you, but it was a trained response you had learnt from your late husband.

“Take your leave then”, he granted, his hands hiding on his back.

You curtsied. “Thank you, Dux Meus.”

Marcus turned on his heels in a swift whoosh, the sword swaying in front of him, his fingers gripping the handle tight. He intuited his opponent’s next move before it happened, so he bent his knees and ducked his head right under the swing of Maximus’ gladius. With a wild, toothy smile, Marcus pulled back, weighing the blade on his left hand.

“So predictable”, he teased the commander, who was an old friend of his.

If one could have friends in the midst of war, that was. Their friendship easily transformed depending on the circumstances — in war matters, Maximus knew to respect Marcus above everything else. Outside of that, they just were two friends with a long history behind them.

“I’m being gentle, lord General. We have spectators, I don’t want to embarrass you. I know your ego is as fragile as a rose’s petal”, Maximus chaffed, a grin taking over his mouth as they circled each other like two lions on the gladiator’s pit.

Marcus’ tunnel vision had him so tuned in on his friend’s advances, he had not realised that a small group of people had gathered around the makeshift arena. Feeling a sudden heaviness weighing him down, Marcus combed the gathered faces in one sweep.

Until his eyes locked in on yours. He saw a glimpse of wonder metamorphosing into surprise in your emerald greens — then you quickly withdrew your eyes from his at the realisation of getting caught staring.

There was something about you that drew him in — something mysterious, uncanny, but also strangely enticing. Exciting. Your eyes spoke of mischief, of adventure, of the unknown. Of something eerie, almost witchy. The flickering, iridescent fire within them had him under a spell for a brief moment.

Marcus vividly remembered holding you against his chest, your soft curves perfectly moulding to his hard edges. Even through the armour, he had felt the heat your body irradiated, the way it seeped through to envelop him, soothe him. For a moment, having you between his arms felt just right. And that thought had unsettled him gravely, letting go of you as such wild, unnerving concept sank in — his mind point-blank rejecting the notion.

Despite his inner refusal, how you looked back at him would plague him. For days and nights on end.

Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus watched as Maximus inched forward, the sword aiming at his open flank. Just in the nick of time, the General’s steel deflected the attack.

“Getting distracted? That’s unusual of you, Marcus”, the commander jeered at him, closing in.

Marcus scoffed at his words, bluffing. But the reality was that Maximus had hit the nail in the head. Not that he was going to acknowledge it in public anyway. If he was to successfully bring Maximus down, he needed to focus on the task at hand and not think about a green-eyed nymph.

Studying his adversary’s body language, his feet dragged on the sand. Maximus was on edge, tense, too focused on his sword, so Marcus wagered a distraction would tip the scales in his favour. Maintaining eye contact, he slowly knelt, the fingers of his non-occupied right hand extended, palm down. Maximus’ brows wrinkled when he saw Marcus getting a fistful of sand and the General knew he had the diversion he was looking for.

With Maximus focused on his right hand, too worried with a cloud of sand that would get in his eyes, Marcus took the chance, quickly stood up and swung his heavy sword against his rival’s left loin. Maximus did not have time to prepare for the impact and so dropped to the ground.

Marcus smiled with sufficiency, straightening out his aching back, and offered a hand to his old friend.

With a grunt, Maximus accepted his gesture and got up, palming Marcus’ back soundly.

“You treacherous man, making me believe you were going to blind me”, he quipped as they both started to walk out of the circle people had formed around them.

“There is no treachery in the art of war”, Marcus replied, patting his friend’s back in playful jest.

A loud snort made Marcus look around him. He had no time to fully study your face, but he could swear you had made that disapproving noise before turning on your heels and trotting off.

Confusion and a smidge of curiosity settled in him — what had he done to gain your dissent when a minute ago awe darkened your eyes? The sudden change in your attitude left a lingering question in the back of his head as he and Maximus ushered towards the barracks in the northwest corner of the bailey.

“But you shouldn’t be serving, mo bhean-uasal (my lady)”, whispered the young lass, her hands twisting in her lap with nervousness.

“Shush, Brighid, lower your tone.” Anxiously you checked out your surroundings, ensuring you were alone. You were relieved to know you were. “You cannae refer to me like that. I’m just Callie now, remember?”

Upon your arrival to Inbhir Nis, Torcall and your father’s retinue —now yours, you guessed— had made everyone aware that the Romans thought you dead and hence, concealing your identity was of utmost importance. A slip of a tongue and you would be hanging in a cage too. Every passing day you feared someone might forget and show you deference publicly — but you had to trust that no one would run off at the mouth and rat you out.

“Duilich (sorry), mo bh— Callie. I—I promise I didn’t mean to”, she profusely apologised, her big wide eyes begging for your pardon. The wee lass could not stop fidgeting.

“I know, I know”, you tried to calm her down, placing your hand on her forearm. “But please, I need to take your place tonight.”

“Cormag will fire me for not turning up. I cannae afford that, my family depends on me.” Her pleading plucked some fast beats out of your heart.

“Don’t fret about it, lass. I’ll speak to that old crank of a man, he owes me. You’ll get paid, awright? He’ll be fine with it, I promise.” You gently squeezed her forearm, so your words would sink in.

Her eyes broadened in understanding. Before the girl could think about her actions, she jolted forward, her arms wrapping around your shoulders. You could only smile at her relief and let out a soft cackle when Brighid lumbered back, mortified.

“I’m so sorry, do Ghras (Your Grace).” Her excitement was so palpable the poor girl didn’t notice the second blunder.

“BRIGHID!”, a raspy threat left your tongue as you jerked her closer to you by the elbow. “For the love of Morrìgan, do watch your mouth!”

The young servant covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes speaking of self-reproach as it dawned on her. “I’ll have it sewn”, she muttered with great remorse.

The guilt splayed across her heart-shaped face brought a smirk to your lips. “Off you go now, before your runny tongue gets me into trouble.”

Brighid scurried away towards the barbican, and you hurried along to the kitchens. You followed the tangled web of corridors and passages thoughtlessly — you had played hide and seek countless times with your siblings between the stone walls, there was no nook nor cranny you were not familiar with.

The air got denser as you approached, the thick smoke of the open hearth filling your lungs. Repressing a cough, you entered the galley as good ol’ Cormag was shouting orders at the helping lads. The head cook had an aging face, creases around his grey eyes and bulbous nose, and a thick bush of white hair — hair strands shooting in every direction, almost comically. He was short and round around the belly, living proof of his good, delicious cooking.

“Keep fanning the fire, ye lazy ass! Don’t you see it’s going to die out? Faster, stronger! Aren’t you supposed to be young and full of life?!”, Cormag had wrapped his thick fingers around the brittle wrists of the lad, forcing his feeble arms up and down, fingers tight around a thin plank of wood. “Tiugainn (come on), with more enthusiasm, ye numpty!”

“Do you really think that’s how you motivate the young lads to do a good job, Cormag?” You questioned his teaching approach, with folded arms and a cocked brow.

An oath escaped his mouth as the cook turned around, his face downcast at your reprimand. “Callie!”

Thank the gods someone remembered how to approach you now. It came easier to Cormag though, considering that he was almost like family to you. The old man had seen you grow, having served your father since before you were even born. He was there, on the background, to wave you goodbye every time you had to return to Am Baile Ùr. And each time you came back, he had a full plate of haggis with a side of neeps and tatties waiting for you.

“No wonder your apprentices quit so fast if you treat them like that, Cormag. Have you no manners?” You kidded — the man had the filthiest mouth of the shire.

“I was raised by an ogre, young lady, of course I don’t”, he jokingly replied, cleaning his dirty hands on the apron tied around his round belly.

“Aye, and Nessie was your pet. I’ve heard that story before awright. I am still to see proof of such claims though.” Unfolding your arms you approached him, immediately going in for a bear hug.

Cormag palmed your back enthusiastically and you circled his stout frame, sinking in the comfort of his presence. In the blink of an eye, you were a five-year-old crybaby being consoled by a younger Cormag because there were no more mutton pies left that you could shove down your tiny mouth.

“I heard you were back, fear beag (little one). Wondered when you’d come visit this old git.” With a last squeeze, he took a step back, his hands placed on your shoulders. “Know you’ve probably heard this a thousand times now, but I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

His whisper was loaded with a heavy affection that shot your heart down to your stomach. Pressing your lips to stop your face from contorting at the memory of being alone in this world, you nodded, almost frantically, and sniffed. His eyes were a reflection of yours — the friendship between your athair and Cormag had been a staple in your life for as long as you could remember.

“But let’s not get all teary now!”, his demeanour changed as he rubbed your shoulders before taking a step back. “Got something for you.”

He turned around to rummage through a rattan basket on one of the counters. Cormag exclaimed an enthusiastic “Ha!” when he got his hands on what he was looking for. Then he presented his discovery to you with a flourish that made you crow.

When you saw the peachy plum on the palm of his hand, you almost squealed. “Plums!” You quickly snatched it, afraid he would take it away.

“I arranged for these to be brought from Fachabair (Fochabers). The cook who serves the clan chief there is an old friend of mine.”

“But Cormag, plums are not in season yet!” You marvelled at the sight, munching on the delicious fruit eagerly. Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head.

“I know.” He winked at you mysteriously, but you didn’t press the matter if it meant you could get your hands on some more plums.

“I did come to you with a favour to ask”, you batted your eyelashes at him, anticipating his disapproval.

He looked at you, inquisitorial — it was his turn to fold arms at the chest. Cormag snapped his tongue as if to say, “do go on”.

“I already convinced Brighid so you cannae be mad at her. In fact, I promised her you wouldn’t.” You grinned at him, his face already puckering with exasperation. “I’m taking her place tonight as a serving maid.”

“Have you lost your damn mind, lass? Nay, I’m not having it”, he quickly dismissed you, grunting.

“I’m not asking for permission. I need to be there, I—” Just in time, you remembered that the two lads were still running around the fireplace, trying to keep the flames alive. “I’ll fill you in later, but I have to be there, there’s no discussion about it.”

“What? Serving that Roman scoundrel? There’s more royal blood in you than there is in him.” He was more offended than you were.

You laughed, patting his forearm. The old man already hated the Romans more than you did, and that was difficult to accomplish.

“Aye, and that’s not the worst bit, Cormag”, you teased him, because you knew he would lose his mind with rage.

“Enlighten me”, he said between gritted teeth.

“We are serving the Corma wine tonight with supper”, you pursed your lips, watching his reaction.

His round face turned all shades of red, and his nostrils flared. If it was physically possible, his ears would be steaming too, like a ceramic pot with boiling water over the open fire.

“NAY, OVER MY DEAD FUCKING BODY!”, he exploded, shaking his arms over his head in disbelief, and you burst into laughter. Cormag was too expressive. “Ah, no, NO. We are not wasting such finery on that murderous cunt!”

You blinked rapidly at him to appease his fury, but his rage just gleamed brighter.

“Well… I kinda told him we would. You winnae make me look like a liar, right, Cormag?”, you muttered, as if you were a child who had committed the grave felony of stealing a sweet off the counter.

“You did WHAT?!”, he snorted angrily.

“Tìoraidh (bye)!”, you effusively waved him goodbye as you bit into the plum, sprinting off and ducking when you heard the wooden spoon flying by your ear.

“Trobhad (come here)!”, but you had already turned the corner into the hallway.

Why he was so taut, he did not fully understand. Marcus’ body was in high alert, and he had his suspicions about the cause.

You were just a woman like any other. Sure, your green eyes flickered like hellfire, your red hair was so bright it looked like you were up in flames, your upturned nose covered in freckles twitched adorably, and the skin on your hands was unusually soft — but that was it, really.

So you were nothing out of the ordinary, he kept telling himself. But it was hard to keep to that line of thought when your breast would brush against his shoulder every time you approached to clear the table from empty plates, when your velvety fingers would briefly caress the back of his hand while reaching for his cutlery, or when you would talk too close to his ear, a tingling sensation on the back of his neck almost making him shiver uncomfortably.

Marcus did not know if you were doing it on purpose or not — your face had an innocent look to it that was hard to read for him. The most prudent thing would be to ignore it all — ignore you. Surely you were only being suggestive in his imagination. And he still had the feeling something had upset you that afternoon when you stormed off after his training session.

“How’s the wine, Dux Meus?”, your sweet voice trickled from your plush lips like honey.

The way you kept referring to him as Dux Meus unsettled him. The first time you had said it during your encounter in the corridor, it caused certain havoc in his mind — and body.

Although it was appropriate for his title, no one really referred to him like that. My leader, my general, my god. It was the last connotation what made him feel… uneasy, for lack of a better word. It just sounded too intimate, the way it would pour from your oval-shaped mouth.

Marcus blamed it on Latin not being your first language. If you knew how seductively it rolled from your lips, he was sure you would stop addressing him like that straight away. Which meant he should correct you, tell you to just stick to Dominus.

But for whatever inexplicable reason, he did not.

“It’s as tasty and earthy as I remember it.” He replied, his fingers wrapping around the chalice with more strength than what was necessary.

You smiled at him, one of your hands gently placed on his right shoulder giving him a subtle squeeze.

“I’m glad to hear it, my lord”, you mumbled, Marcus’ eyes following the movement of your hand when you broke contact.

You inched forward over his shoulder to grab the glass jug and refill his cup, gifting him with the sight of your generous cleavage — your breasts almost spilling over the neckline of the dark blue, linen dress that so tightly wrapped around your hourglass figure.

Marcus had to swallow hard, tension suddenly building up on his groin. Was he getting hard just by the mere touch of a woman? He sucked in his breath while forcing himself to look forward, not down.

He just nodded in reply, unable to find his voice. If he had talked, he would have just groaned in frustration. Marcus had to readjust his posture as he saw you walking away, your waist evocatively swaying sideways with every step you took.

“I’m sure the wine is not the only tasty thing around here.”

Maximus’ whispered jest forced Marcus to look in his direction, turning to his left. They, along with the other commanders and a few other people of importance, were sat on the table on the dais, facing the crowd. Other tables were scattered around the great hall, where some legionnaires were enjoying a meal and a drink, sharing a joke and bursting in laughter.

“I don’t follow”, he grunted, feigning ignorance, before taking a sip.

“Oh, you do follow. At least your eyes do.” Maximus mocked him while Marcus just sneered at him, eyes squinting. “No one would blame you though. We are far away in an unknown land, and we all have needs to satisfy. I myself am considering getting laid tonight.”

“I did not doubt you would.” Men like Maximus had no consideration for their wives.

Neither does Livia, the intrusive thought wiggled its way through his mind. Despite the lack of passion in bed with his spouse, Marcus had been a faithful husband. While others looked for warmth in the folds of a pleasure woman after a battle, the General would tend to his wounds and rest, focusing on what next skirmish lied ahead.

And while he had been loyal although there was never love between them, Livia had been fucking the “love of her life”, as she had referred to the man stuffing her cunt full during his long absences. Marcus was yet to know his name. What he would do with that information, he did not know.

Thinking of his perfidious wife had an extinguishing effect on him. The strain against his subligaculum (underwear) had softened.

“You’re too tense, Marcus. You need to relax, have some fun. I bet you two denarii that she will fuck the stress out of you expertly, I can tell.” Maximus pressed maliciously, conscious of how uncomfortable the conversation would make Marcus feel.

“Just shut up, will you?”, Marcus snapped back, tired of his friend’s quips, and downing the drink in his cup.

Maximus laughed it off and turned to talk to Cassius when you sauntered towards the table again, stopping right behind him.

“More wine, Dux Meus?”, you asked, infusing your honeyed voice with a sweet touch of flirtation.

You bent over his shoulder again, hand lazily looking for the wine jug in front of him. His hazel eyes fell on your bosom again and your nipples involuntarily hardened at the desire you saw in him — you were sure he noticed them peeking through the thin fabric.

In your attempts to arouse him, your body was betraying you, getting warm in all the wrong places. As much as you wanted to be immune to your own provocative games, you were not. But it wasn’t him who made you wet with lust, you told yourself. It was your own actions, nothing else. The long game.

But Marcus quickly tamed his expression, grinding his jaw and looking away.

“No, I’m okay”, he rejected your offer, hovering his hand over the chalice so you would not pour more.

You forced your lips into a flat line. You needed the man to let go of his defences. Having him drunk would help with that. But not tonight, apparently.

You nodded.

“Of course, Dominus.” You placed the jug back down on the table, your left breast brushing his right shoulder again.

You bit down your bottom lip, your free fingers curling on the back of his chair. It’s just the game, you thought to yourself again, your core slick and hot.

Slowly you retreated to the kitchens, fully aware of Marcus’ eyes feasting on your body. You smiled to yourself — he might be a taut General, but he was just a man.

A deceitful man at that, who thought there was no treachery in the art of war. Was that how he defeated your father? With deception? You had been too far to see and hear how the fight between your father and Marcus had unfolded, but having been witness to how the General distracted his opponent that afternoon, you wondered if he had followed similar tactics with Murdoch. If your father’s demise was just a byproduct of Marcus’ boldness.

The memory of Marcus being your father’s executioner put out the liquid fire in your crotch. And rightly so.

It wasn’t long before the Romans started to vanish from the great hall, retreating to the barracks or to town, maybe looking for the comfort only a woman could offer.

When you walked back out to clear the last plates, you saw the General leaving the room. Alone. Where he intended to go you did not know, but you had to make sure he was not considering joining the men in town — if he was to choose a woman to enliven his bed, he should pick you.

“Isla, I’ll be back in a minute.” The lass gave you a puzzled look as the bits you had gathered previously clattered against the wooden table when you let go of them.

You hurried forward to meet him as he swung the double doors open, the cold breeze of the corridor filtering into the great hall.

“Dux Meus, wait please”, you interjected in the hopes he would stop walking.

Indeed, he did. His whole body stiffened, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. You were not sure what to make of that reaction — exasperation or frustration. You hoped for the second, especially the good kind of frustration.

As soon as you reached him, you placed a daring hand on his forearm — an unusual surge of energy sparked at the contact between your skins, giving you goosebumps. You quickly retrieved your hand with certain surprise, the tingling sensation evaporating right after.

“I trust everything was good?”, you queried, tilting your head to one side.

“Yes. Now I’ll retire to my bedchambers. Bonum noctis (good night)”, his words dragged for a second, “Callie.”

There it was again, your name falling from his lips as if it belonged to him. It angered and pleased you equally. If he pronounced it like that on purpose you did not know, but it surely felt like it.

Before you could come up with an answer, he trudged to his right and you took a step forward.

“That is not the way to the main bedchamber, my lord. You should follow this other corridor instead”, you pointed to the left.

He paused and turned around to face you. A lingering question danced in his pupils, but whatever it was, he did not say out loud. Instead, he nodded.

“I am aware. However, I have taken a different bedroom.” He did not give you an explanation, but you could have a good guess. Your father always complained his bed was like a blanket of spikey rocks. “I am now lodged in the second tower, the room in the top floor.”

You tamed your face into nothingness, but internally you flinched at his reply. He was sleeping in your room, in your bed. The thought of him naked with your bedlinen draped around his waist and thick legs made you gush. Fuck.

This was unknown territory to you — although you had been married for ten years, you had not known pleasure in the bedchamber. Iain just chased his own release, using you in disgusting ways, proving you that you were the problem, not him — that your womb was barren. You had been told by your friends that fucking was enjoyable for both parties, but you were yet to discover that. Maybe the dampness your legs harboured was a start?

“I see”, you curtsied, fingers laced on your back, looking up at him through your long eyelashes.

“How come you speak Latin?” His question blurted out, catching you completely off guard.

Marcus had a nick for inconvenience, forcing you to come up with lies on the spot. Luckily you were astute and creative.

“My late father was a scrivener to Murdoch. He taught me how to speak Latin, as it was his favourite language.”

“He passed?” You simply nodded. “I trust you still have family around though?”

You shook your head no. You killed them all, ye cunt. But you could not express your hatred out loud. Although when the time came, you would. Aye, you definitely would.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” For a second you believed him, his tone almost sorrowful.

“It was a long time ago.” You lied through your teeth, shrugging. “I’ll leave you to your rest now. Oidhche mhath (good night), Marcus.”

You heard a loud sigh being drawn into his lungs, possibly because of your cheekiness — calling him by his first name was a very bold move on your part. Maybe too bold.

Before he could reprimand you for your audacity, you scuttled back into the great hall, a sufficient grin tugging at your lips.

@orcasoul @immyowndefender @sjc7542 @fairiebabey

@thepalaceofmelanie @harriedandharassed @whoaitspascal87

@verybigvag @jessthebaker @ivoryandflame @missadangel @pepperstories

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 10 months ago

Text

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 3

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: None really. Angst. Dean being a bit of an asshole. A brief, near sexual encounter. Smidge of fluff.

Word Count: 3,654

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: So, here I am with chapter 3. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much for all the very kind comments that this series has received so far. You're all fabulous.

Series Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

The next morning Dean was sitting at the table in his tent, listening to the camp waking up around him, when his tent flap opened and Cas strolled in. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Jesus, we gotta put up a piece of wood on the tent poles or something so people can knock.” He said in a surly and growly, early morning voice. When Cas didn’t respond, he challenged him with an even surlier tone. “What? Why are you here?”

Cas walked further into the tent. “I saw you gave Y/N back her daughter.” Dean raised his hand and then dropped it, conceding the point. “And,” Cas continued, raising his hand in the air and waving it slightly, “no more manacles.”

Dean spread his arms wide. “These are all things I already know, Cas; why are you telling me this?”

Cas shrugged slightly. “So, can I assume this means you no longer think she’s going to turn into a monster at any minute?”

Dean blew out a puff of air. “It means, she’s been here a week, and hasn’t turned yet. And since that isn’t really something that happens to people who get bit, I think I can be reasonably certain she won’t turn, randomly, out of the blue one day. And I gave her back her kid so she can look after her, and I can get Risa back as a soldier instead of a nanny.”

Cas wore a very enthusiastic expression as he moved closer. “Come on, even you have to admit that this is exciting.”

Dean arched a brow. “Exciting?”

Cas’ voice became awestruck. “Dean, this is the most hopeful sign we’ve had in…years!”

“Aw, don’t come at me with that hopeful bullshit!” Dean’s scowl and fierce countenance was immediate and slightly intimidating, even to the angel.

“Hope is nothing but a fucking lie, okay? We know it. We HOPED we could stop Lilith breaking seals and we didn’t, we HOPED we could stop the apocalypse, but we failed at that too. We HOPED we could save everyone, and well, we’re doing a pretty piss poor job of that, aren’t we? Every single time we go out on a raid, I hope we come back with the same number of people we left with, but it doesn’t happen very often, does it? We hoped -”

Dean cut himself short and swallowed hard, lowering his voice. “We hoped that Sam would be strong enough to say no, but…he wasn’t. I hoped I could save him. And-” He cut himself off again and rubbed a hand hard across his face.

“So just don’t come at me with ‘hopeful’.” Dean said, sneering the word.

He tapped his fingers against his chest. “Cause I gotta live in the reality of this situation. And look, if you wanna hide away from that reality, you wanna get blitzed and bombed every day, and pretend like you’re some kind of sexual guru, fuck around with dozens of girls, I don’t really give a shit. Okay? Do it. But I,” he banged his chest with his whole fist this time, “I have to live in the reality of our lives.”

Dean stood up and stepped closer to Cas, swinging his arm out sideways. “And the reality is I have no fucking clue why that woman hasn’t turned.” He shrugged dismissively. “Maybe the person who bit her wasn’t fully turned themselves, or maybe they didn’t fully break the skin so it didn’t take completely. Who knows. All I know is that she’s probably not gonna turn and so now we’ve got one more mouth to feed. Two, actually.” He said holding up two fingers. “And two more people draining our resources.”

He stepped back and turned away, giving Cas his profile. “That’s the reality. So you wanna join me in it, great. If not,” He turned his head to look at him, lifting his hand towards the entrance, “there’s the door. Or, you know, the tent flap.”

He dropped down onto the chair he’d vacated and rubbed a hand across his lips. He looked up when Cas spoke softly.

“I don’t wanna live in this reality, Dean. I just can’t anymore. So I choose hope, I choose to be hopeful that maybe she marks a change, maybe things can be different. I’m telling you, this reality isn’t the only option.”

Dean shook his head. “It’s my only option. I learned a long time ago, and you should’ve too - hope is dangerous. Reality can’t hurt you like hope can.”

Cas’ expression was discouraged and disappointed as he nodded, looking away from Dean. He said nothing more as he turned and walked away.

***

A little while after Cas left, Dean moved out to his campfire and cooked and ate his ration of eggs and potatoes. As he drank his coffee, he was actively trying to push the argument with Cas out of his head. He had a camp to lead, he didn't need this crap clouding his judgment.

It was ridiculous to think the woman represented some kind of new hope for mankind. He rolled his eyes at the very notion.

Still, he found himself calling out to Johnston as the soldier walked by. The man stopped abruptly and turned fearful eyes on Dean. It drove Dean a little crazy that after more than two years of Johnston serving the camp, of protecting it and helping to run the day-to-day work and activities there, he still seemed petrified of Dean.

I can't possibly be that scary, Dean thought with a deep scowl. Not like I've had him flogged for looking at me wrong or something.

Dean rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the fear radiating from the other man.

“You settled Y/N and her daughter?” He asked.

Johnston's blue eyes were slightly bulging and his prominent Adam's apple moved up and down as he swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

Dean waited a minute for him to elaborate before prodding him gruffly. “And?”

The other man seemed at a loss and Dean snapped his fingers impatiently. “And where did you put them?”

Understanding finally lit in Johnston's eyes and he began nodding. “Oh, yes sir. I put them in the southwest corner. Fourth row, the tent on the end.” He seemed proud to get that much out. But then he raised a finger. “Oh, the tent is red.”

Dean nodded and waved at him. “As you were.”

Johnston saluted (even though Dean had told him a million times not to) and hurried on. Dean sighed deeply and without thinking about it too much, he headed in the direction of the red tent.

When he got there he shouted out a hello, feeling slightly foolish and vowing then and there to make it a project to put some kind of wood near tents’ openings so people could knock.

The flap opened and Y/N's face lit up with a beaming smile when she saw him. “Hi!”

Not knowing what to do with her enthusiasm, he just nodded. There was a slightly awkward moment and then Emma, her big blue eyes staring up at Dean, poked her head out from behind her mom, keeping her arms tightly wrapped around her hips and leaning her head into her side.

Y/N lifted her arm a little so Emma could shuffle out from behind her a bit more. She combed down Emma's slightly flyaway curls with her fingers and then settled her hand on the little girl's thin shoulders.

She gestured to Dean. “Say hi to Mr. Winchester.”

The little one just pressed closer and looked away from Dean to bury her face in her mother's side.

Y/N gave him a slightly chagrined look. “She isn't usually this shy.” She said by way of apology.

But Dean simply shook his head. Unlike Johnston, he understood all too well why this blue-eyed moppet was scared of him. She'd watched him nearly end her mother's life - not something she was ever likely to forget.

Dean hated that that realization came with a trace of guilt. Feeling very annoyed with himself, he straightened up and nodded curtly.

“Good.” He said succinctly, responding to nothing. “I just wanted to make sure you were settled properly.”

He turned in an abrupt about face and started walking away.

“Dean, wait!” Y/N called out to him. He turned back to see her wave Emma back into the tent and head towards him. When she reached him she wore her bright smile again, and he frowned deeper as a result.

“I wanted to ask you about something.”

Dean said nothing, waiting for her to continue. She seemed to be a little nervous, fiddling with her hair. She finally clasped her hands in front of her and continued.

“So, I was talking to Eric?” She said as though it was a question. Dean did give her a puzzled look.

“Eric?” He asked.

Y/N had opened her mouth to continue talking, but then closed it and gave her head a shake, pointing to the side at nothing in particular.

“Eric Johnston? The…soldier that brought us to this tent and helped us set it up.”

Dean nodded in recognition. Yes, he remembered now, that was his first name. He never used it. “Right.” He waved her on.

“And I was asking about school for Emma, but he said there isn't one.”

Dean shook his head. “No, the parents, guardians, they look after that themselves.”

Y/N nodded. “Yes, but I was thinking…well, I was a third grade teacher in the…before.” She thumbed behind her as though their former, normal lives were just right behind them, around the corner, instead of existing eons ago.

She shrugged. “So, I was thinking that maybe I could start a kind of school for the kids here. Eric figured there were about 35 or 40 of them. So I thought we could hold lessons somewhere outside most days, but if the weather's bad, maybe we could use the main cabin.”

Dean was scowling harder now, so she rushed on. “It would only be for a few hours a day. Wouldn't be anything spectacular, but it could help them with reading and math, and just some basics. Keep the kids' minds occupied and give their parents a couple of hours on their own.”

She shrugged. “It's nothing much, but it might help people feel a little more hopeful about the future.” She finished with another bright smile.

Dean felt his ire rise with that word again - hopeful. This woman was going to upset everything, tip the precarious balance of the camp on its head.

He shook his head angrily. “We don't do shit like that. This isn't a fucking gated community, okay? These are survivors who get by together. That's it.”

Y/N's eyes were so earnest it almost hurt to look at her. “But, don't you see, it could be a community. Not gated, but open. We could do more for each other than just survive.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “Look, if you're unhappy with being here, we can happily help you on your way.”

Y/N raised her hands. “No, of course not, that's not what-”

Dean cut her off with a cold, hard voice. “And you can't teach kids like this.” He waved a hand towards the red rings encircling her irises. “You'd scare the shit outta them. Take one look at you and freak out, thinking you're gonna turn into a monster any minute.”

That pulled Y/N up short and Dean could see by her slight flinch that his words had hit home. She was quiet a minute and her smile was dimmed as she nodded.

“Right. That's…no, you're right.” She gave an imitation of a chuckle. “There aren't many mirrors around, so I…sometimes I forget about…” she gestured to her eyes.

She shook her head. “I was just trying to find a way to be helpful, you know.” She shrugged. “But yeah…” She trailed off and Dean felt a sick gnawing sensation in his stomach as she gave a final dull smile.

“Okay, well thanks.” She said as she turned away. Though what she could have possibly been thanking him for, he had no idea.

He thought about Cas’ disappointed expression, and Y/N's bent smile and he gritted his teeth. This morning was not going well for him.

The day didn’t get much better from there. He spent most of it planning their next raid for canned goods. They were running low, and it was September already. Over the next couple of months they’d have to make sure they had whatever they needed for the winter. Once the snow hit, the winter roads were sometimes impassable for weeks at a time.

They were having to go further and further out from the camp to find supplies. The area was becoming picked clean. There were four or five other, smaller, groups of survivors within about a hundred square miles of their camp. For the most part they all rubbed along together alright, pretty much just leaving a big buffer of space between the camps, and leaving each other alone.

However, Dean was starting to worry about what would happen now that resources and supplies around them were starting to run out. In this last year, they’d started having to drive hours and hours away from camp to find un-ransacked grocery stores and restaurants in the abandoned cities. They could manage it because of their size, but some of the smaller groups had very few working vehicles, making it harder for them to travel. Dean worried what would happen when they got desperate.

He wanted to be ready for winter.

So, he tried to spend the day planning the best route to hit as many cities as they could without hitting too many known Croat hives, or cleaned out cities. But he kept getting interrupted by his soldiers. The concerns of the camp were unending, and sometimes felt completely overwhelming.

The morning kept being interrupted by issues and grievances his soldiers brought him from some of the camp inhabitants. He tried to put out as many fires as he could, while continuing to plan the raid.

Then he ended up spending far too much of the afternoon talking about drainage and irrigation with the young guy who used to be an engineering student, and an old farmer who’d spent his whole life in the fields. The two very different men were teaming up to try and see about making bigger winter crop plots this year. They’d grown some winter vegetables last fall and winter, and even that small amount of fresh food had made a big difference in the health of the campers. So this year they were hoping for more.

Finally the men went off to plan some more and Dean folded up his maps. He hadn’t made much headway into the raid route, but the light was getting low; he’d have to come back to it. He fried up some spam and a few of the cooked, frozen potatoes they’d put up in the spring and sat beside his fire for a while before tossing water on it and going inside his tent. He lit a lantern and started to try and look at the maps again, but he was interrupted by Risa.

Dean lifted his chin towards her by way of greeting. She came forward and dropped a small piece of machinery on his table. “Here’s the piston for that Ford we towed back last week.” She said, referring to the truck they’d found abandoned on the side of the road with no owners in sight. “Should work.”

Dean nodded. “Great.”

Risa lingered a moment and then walked closer to him. “How are you?”

Dean shrugged. “Fine.”

She moved forward to stand between his legs and then reached out to run her hands over his cheeks and down his neck. She bent over and pressed a brief kiss to his lips.

“I miss you.” She said, her voice softer and more intimate than it ever was when they were soldier and commander. “You haven’t been to see me in weeks.”

“Sorry.” Dean said gruffly and then let her kiss him again, kissing her back for a moment before pulling away.

Not willing to give up, Risa straddled his outstretched thighs and reached for his zipper. “It’s okay, I bet I can find ways to entice you back.” She said, dark brown eyes flashing with heat.

But Dean grabbed her hands and pulled them away. He kissed her briefly to try and ease the sting of his rejection. “Sorry, not tonight.” He nodded towards the maps on his table. “I’ve got shit I gotta finish.”

Risa bit into her lip, looking down at their hands entwined in his lap, and then nodding before she stood up. She lifted her mouth in a smile. “Yeah, sure. ‘Kay.” She nodded again and pointed to the piston as she left. “Let me know if that works.”

Dean sighed as his tent flap fell back into place. And that was the third person he’d disappointed today. Without his permission Y/N’s face floated into his mind. Despite what he’d said to her, he couldn’t deny how beautiful that face actually was. The red pigment in her eyes made no difference to that beauty.

He couldn’t erase the image of her crestfallen expression when he told her she’d scare the kids. That was complete bullshit and he knew it. Five seconds in her shiny presence and the kids would be eating out of her hand.

He growled slightly as he could feel himself caving. But would it really be so bad to let her teach the kids somewhere? They’d have to stay out of the way, and she’d have to keep them all quiet when they were together in a mob. But it might actually free their parents up for more of the endless tasks it took to maintain the camp.

If he let her do it, he’d have to make sure she knew he was only saying yes so that they could have the kids out of the way for a while. This wasn’t some hopeful mission for the future. It was just a practical solution for improving the camp.

He nodded. Yeah, I'll tell her tomorrow.

But even as he though it, he got up and walked out of his tent, moving towards the southwest corner of the camp. Within a couple minutes he was standing in front of the red tent and again found himself clearing his throat and embarrassingly calling out a hello, like he was the Avon lady.

Y/N poked her head out of the tent and smiled. But she lowered her eyes a little and wouldn’t look directly at him. He wanted to punch himself.

“Hi.” She said softly, and then stepped out of the tent into the cool, late evening breeze. She waved towards the tent. “Emma’s sleeping.”

He nodded. She rubbed her arms and he frowned. “Didn’t they give you a jacket?” Then he noticed she was still wearing the grubby clothes she’d been wearing when she came. “And clean clothes?”

Y/N nodded and even in the dusky twilight Dean could see her blush. “Yes, but I realized…I’m all dirty.” She shrugged. “Nothing but basin baths for weeks. I’d like to get cleaner before I put on the clean clothes. One of your soldiers said there was a place where people went to bathe nearby. But he didn’t have time to take me.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, there’s a river about four miles south of camp. It does the trick. I’ll take you tomorrow.”

He scowled; he didn’t know where that offer had come from. He could have had one of his soldiers, or any other camper really, take her out to the river. But he didn’t rescind the offer and Y/N nodded happily.

“That would be wonderful.” She said rapturously.

Dean nodded curtly again. “Yeah. And uh…you can do the school.” Y/N looked directly at him now and her face was surprised, but clearly thrilled.

“Really?”

He nodded and scowled. “Yeah, the kids'll get over it." He said with a nod to her red eyes. "But just make sure you all stay out of the way of the work in the camp. And let the parents know we’ll have some work for them during the hours their kids are gone. We can use the extra hands.”

Y/N nodded. “I’m sure they’ll be happy to help out where they can.”

Impulsively it seemed, she threw her arms around him, squeezing his arms tight to his sides as she hugged him. Shock coursed through him and he didn’t know how to move. Thankfully it was a brief hug and she was soon pulling away.

“Thank you so much, Dean. I’m so excited. I think it’s going to make a real difference. Just wait.”

As she bid him goodnight and bounced back into her tent, he shook his head, frowning deeply.

Fuck, he thought, everything is too different already.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @deangirl96

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

#dean winchester #endverse!dean #endverse!dean x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fic series #spn fan fic #endverse

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thefallennightmare · 7 months ago

Text

The Promise-Andy Biersack

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Andy Biersack x OFC

Warnings: smut, language, angst(lots of it), a smidge of fluff, mentions of abuse, alcoholism.

Summary: High school was supposed to be some of the best years of a teenager's life; except for River. Those four years were hell, the only one that got her through it was her best friend, Andy. She thought he'd be by her side after graduation but after one night of giving each other something so treasured, life took both of them in different directions.

Almost ten years later, River and Andy meet again in a way neither of them expected.

Authors Note: This is my first time writing Andy Biersack but I'm very excited! As of now, it is a one-shot but might consider continuing it if people are interested!

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @concreteangel92 @flowery-mess @cookiesupplier @poppy-in-the-woods @viofcrows @sprokat @srorgana1 @bloody-delusion-expert

“You don’t ever have to be alone, River,” his soothing voice cooed in my ear as he cupped my cheek.

I looked up at him through the tears and choked on a sob. “Promise you’ll stay with me?”

He smiled that smile I fell in love with years ago. “I promise.”

The sounds of yelling pulled me out of my thoughts in time to see a group of teenagers running past me on the street, youthful smiles on their faces.

If they only knew what the future for them held.

With the setting sun grazing over the streets of Hollywood as people made their way home from school or work, I was headed to work with my camera bag hanging on my shoulder and phone in my hand. I had the Maps app up giving me directions where I needed to go. It was going to be a long night at work for this music video shoot and I was already on my third cup of coffee, the feeling of caffeine still not flowing through my system.

I spent the morning and afternoon bouncing between different shoots from clients and when I remembered I had booked this job taking pictures of a band's music video tonight, I cut the last photoshoot short by only a few minutes to make it in time.

The company that booked me for this video shoot, Industrialism Films, didn’t tell me much about who the band was. They just told me to show up at seven p.m. and start working as soon as I was set up. It was going to be an all-night event and I needed to make sure to get shots of everyone in the band.

Hence the third cup of coffee.

It also hadn't helped that my mind had been plagued with memories of high school even ten years after graduation. Usually, I was great at pushing away those awful memories but the last few nights, those images of my past life kept clawing at me, dragging me down to the depths. I spent so long trying to crawl out of it and breathe that fresh air I desperately craved those four years of hell.

The bullying.

Eating alone in the bathroom stalls.

The feeling of being so alone, I cried myself to sleep every night.

The desperation of my home being a haven away from the mocking at school, only to have it worse there.

Every single day of high school was miserable; except for one person.

Him.

My best friend and first everything; Andy.

Until he left you to deal with the beatings alone so he could succeed with his band.

Screwing my eyes shut tight to forget the sound of my dad's skin on mine, I turned the corner, and a large church and steps came into view. There were ropes blocked off around the perimeter, keeping outsiders away. As I reached a security guard, I pulled out my I.D. to show him.

“River Murray. I’m the photographer,” I said.

The guard glanced down to my I.D. then to the list in his hands and with a gruff of response, he let me walk past the ropes.

“Have a great night,” I mumbled under my breath.

Bodies were moving everywhere, and people were screaming over one another, but I was able to find the director of the shoot pretty quickly. He showed me a trailer where I could set up my things and once I was settled, I could start working. They didn’t care what pictures I shot, just as long as I got a lot of the band.

“Who’s the band?” I asked Vincent, the director while setting my camera bag on the table inside the trailer.

“Bloody veils? No that’s not right,” he scratched at the beard on his chin, trying to remember. “I don’t know. It's some metal band. I’ve only met them once before but they’re nice guys. It’s for their song Saviour II.”

I nodded. “So I have free reign around here? As long as I don’t get in the shot right?”

Vincent smiled. “You’ve worked on music video shoots before?”

“Once or twice,” I shrugged. “I worked with Bad Omens on one and some local bands another time.”

“Bad Omens?” He whistled low. “They’re one of the hottest bands right now. I’m surprised you aren't working with them.”

“I dated their current photographer for a few months. He set up the shoot with them to help build up my portfolio,” I shifted on my feet, suddenly feeling uncomfortable divulging too much about my life to this stranger.

A loud crackle and static came through Vincent’s radio. “Veil Brid-. They’re here.”

My heart stuttered in my chest for the briefest of moments but told myself to take a breath. It couldn’t be him; the radio cut off before finishing who was here, I was just in my head.

“You’re beautiful, River,” he mused while kissing every inch of my bruised skin.

Vincent clapped his hands which caused me to jump out of my thoughts and blinked wildly.

“Alright, I’ve got to meet the boys and show them their trailers to get ready. Head out whenever you’re ready. There’s a radio for you on the table in case we need to communicate with you tonight.”

“Sure,” I did my best to nod with a smile.

Once alone, I sat on the couch in the trailer and went about assembling my camera, doing a few test shots. The past kept trying to crawl its way back into the present, doing its best to render me useless, but I wouldn’t allow it.

Well, I tried to anyway.

“You’re worthless.”

“Piece of shit daughter. I should have dropped you off with your mother years ago.”

“The only thing you’re good for is being a punching bag. But you can’t even do that right.”

A swift kick to my ribs sent me flying across the room.

Choking on a sob, I dug my palms into my eyes hoping that would force out those thoughts.

“I haven’t thought of Dad in years but now he’s overtaking every part of me again,” I sighed to myself.

Not feeling quite ready to leave the trailer yet, I fixed myself in the reflection of the mirror by tying my long black hair into a tight French braid and cleaned up my makeup a bit. The scar underneath my right eye was faint but visible to this day almost eleven years later. No matter how much makeup I wore to cover it, it was still a reminder of not only the best day of my life but also the worst day.

“River, we need you on set.”

“Be right there,” I said into the radio before clicking it to the belt of my jeans, and with my camera around my neck, I bounded down the steps of the trailer.

By now the sun had set and the moon shone overhead so I stopped in my tracks for a moment to take a few shots of it before walking into the church where there was a large gathering of people. On the altar of the church were a set up of drums, guitars, an orchestra, and a microphone stand.

After snapping a picture of it, I turned on my heels when I heard Vincent call my name.

“River, I’d like you to meet the band. I figured you’d want to get some pictures of them before we start shooting.”

I looked over the picture I had just taken of the drum set, something vaguely familiar about the logo, but then glanced up at the five men standing in front of me; the one in the middle with the bright gray eyes immediately catching my gaze.

My breath caught in my throat as I nearly tripped over my feet when his jaw went slack, the familiarity slapping both of us in the face.

“River?”

The richness of his voice brought back all of those other memories I did my best to push away. I stood frozen, unable to move or say anything, while my brain tried to catch up on the man that stood in front of me; the one I hadn’t seen in ten years.

The one that broke his promise.

“Andy.”

Highschool. Senior year. One week before graduation.

I pounded on the bedroom window as the rain assaulted me with no end in sight, drenching me from head to toe. The rain mixed with the salty tears that rolled down my cheeks as I continued to beat my palm against the glass while standing on the makeshift ladder we made of three cinder blocks. I needed a way to reach his window in times like this. There was no way I could walk through his front door looking like this where his parents could see and ask questions.

“Damn it, Andy! Wake up!” I cried, still pounding on the window.

The storm was a constant onslaught of rain, lightning, and thunder, so I knew it was hard for him to hear me. But that didn’t stop me.

Finally, after a few minutes of crying and pounding on the window, Andy’s sleep-filled eyes stared at me through the curtain covering his window. I saw all the emotions run through his intense gaze.

Confusion.

Realization.

And when he gave my face one long once over, the emotion that crossed the soft features of his face, I knew there was no way I’d be able to excuse my dad’s actions this time.

Anger.

“River,” his voice instantly soothing me when he opened the window, helping me inside. “What the fuck happened?”

My body convulsed in shivers and I wrapped my arms around me to help keep some of my body heat.

“I–I-I’m fi-fine,” my teeth chattered loudly in the quiet room.

“Bullshit,” Andy spat while running a hand through his long black hair. “You’ve got a nasty cut under your eye and your lip is busted.”

Now with the rain not washing away the blood, I could taste the bitter crimson on my lips and felt it pooling in my eye. I didn’t have to look at myself to know that the cut was deep and needed stitches.

Typically, my dad made sure to hit me in places that I could easily hide. But tonight was different. I told him that once I graduated, I had plans to leave Ohio and move to North Carolina to start over; fresh.

“Not with my money,” he spat.

Literally.

When I told him I didn’t need his money and that I had other plans, he snorted while stubbing out his cigarette.

“With that little boyfriend of yours? Sweety, he’ll drop you the second you follow him to that big fancy city.”

“Fuck you!” I screamed. “You know nothing about Andy!”

My cursing set him off and that's when the first slap happened, causing my busted lip. This time, I fought back, but in the end, it didn’t matter. My dad’s strength overpowered me as he threw me across the floor, face skidding along some of the broken glass from the cup I had thrown at him before.

Hence the nasty cut underneath my eye.

Andy’s sighing brought me back and I then noticed he was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. I’d seen him like this many times before since we were best friends but something about seeing him like this tonight, made my insides burn low.

I’d had a crush on him since freshman year when he stepped between me and Alexa Dread from taking my camera and breaking it; again. Ever since that day, Andy and I were inseparable. We knew everything about each other and we always confided in each other about our feelings.

Just not for each other.

My feelings for him began to grow with each passing day but I had to watch him date girls that weren’t me with a fake smile because I needed to be happy for my best friend.

He’d never feel the same way and that was something I came to terms with a while ago.

My eyes grazed over the scattered ink on his arms, the random designs always taking my breath away. He was eighteen so was able to get the tattoos without the permission of his parents.

I, however, was one month shy of turning eighteen and I’d been counting down the days. Ready to run from all of this the minute the clock struck midnight.

“Fuck, River. You’re shaking,” Andy’s hand reached for me, leading me to the adjacent bathroom off of his bedroom.

“I d-didn’t know wh-where el-se to go-go,” I did my best to speak over my body shaking.

He hushed me with a gentle squeeze of my hand. “You know you can always come here. You always have a place here, Riv.”

I swallowed thickly at his nickname for me.

“You need to shower but I want to clean that cut first,” he motioned towards the soaked clothes that were clinging to me like a second skin. “Take them off.”

I stilled at his words. While Andy had no problem walking around in his underwear around me, I, on the other hand, could not muster up that kind of courage.

“I can’t,” I shook my head.

His bright eyes narrowed through the thickness of his black hair. “Either you take those clothes off or I will. The last thing you need right now is to catch pneumonia.”

Gnawing on the inside of my cheek, I still didn’t make a move, which caused Andy to sigh.

“I’ll turn around so you can undress, and keep your bra and underwear on. I’ll keep my face on yours when I clean your cut,” he reassured me with a gentle smile.

“Okay,” I said finally.

Before he turned around, Andy turned on the shower so the steam could fill the bathroom and keep me warm while he cleaned the cut. Staying true to his word, he turned his back to me, and as quick as I could, I ripped off the wet clothes. The sound it made falling to the tiled floor made me cringe and I covered myself with my arms.

My bra and underwear were not cute, nothing he’d seen his past girlfriends wear, so to say I was embarrassed was an understatement. A simple pair of black cotton panties and a red bra.

“You can turn around,” I said softly.

Andy slowly turned around and kept his eyes straight ahead on my face as he motioned to the closed toilet seat. While I sat, I watched his back muscles contort as he rummaged around underneath the sink for the first aid kit.

“Won't your parents wonder why you’re taking a shower at two in the morning?” I asked.

He snorted his laughter, still rummaging underneath the sink. “They would never question why their teenage son would be taking a shower in the middle of the night.”

“Huh?” I said, utterly confused.

Andy glanced up at me from his kneeling position with his brows raised and a playful smirk. Suddenly, it clicked on what he meant.

“Oh, right,” I muttered low; the image of his hand around his cock pumping it slowly then fast replaying in my mind like a movie.

I’d never seen him do that but I’d thought about it a handful of times.

“This might sting a bit,” Andy said, kneeling in front of me now; his eyes remaining on my face.

“I’ve had worse,” I tried to joke but the stern look from him made my shoulders fall and I muttered an apology.

“You need to leave home, River,” he said while soaking a cotton pad in peroxide.

I shook my head. “And go where? I have no money and no other relatives that will take me in.”

“You know my parents will let you stay in the guest room for as long as you need.”

I snorted. “Right. I don’t think your girlfriend would like the idea of me staying down the hall from you.”

Andy’s eyes snapped away from the cotton ball to my face. “We broke up.”

I did my best to keep a straight face when my heart nearly soared out of my chest.

“When?”

“The other day. She wanted to have sex and I said no so she broke up with me,” his voice told me that he wasn't upset about it.

My brows furrowed together. “You said no to sex with Ashley Jenks? You’re not sick are you?”

I made a play of touching his forehead with the back of my hand, our laughter echoing in the small bathroom.

“No,” he grabbed my hand, not letting it go right away. “I’m not going to give my virginity to the first girl that throws themself at me. Or in this case, the fourth.”

I blinked. “You’re still a virgin?”

Andy finally let go of my hand and I frowned at the loss of warmth.

“I know it’s shocking but call me old school. I’m waiting until I find the right person.”

Our eyes met in an intense battle of who would look away first but neither of us was faltering.

“I am too,” I said quietly.

For the briefest of moments, I saw his eyes widen before he played it off by holding up the soaked cotton ball.

“I’m sorry for the sting.”

I urged him on with a nod and didn’t even flinch when the cool liquid met my skin finally as Andy cleaned the cut on my cheek. Silence fell between us as he then cleaned the dried blood on my face and when his warm breath fanned over the cut to dry it, I nearly melted into him; skin rising with goosebumps.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” he murmured while looking closely at the cut.

I sucked in a breath when I realized his lips were mere meters from mine and dared a glance down to his full lips. They were practically begging to be kissed and I wanted to be the one to do it.

“I’ll put a bandaid on it after my shower,” I said.

With me still sitting on the toilet and Andy kneeling in front of me, I spread my legs wide so he was able to get as close as he could to cleaning the cut. Now that he was finished, it was as if he had no idea where to place his hands so they rested on the wall behind me, his long body leaning over me.

“You’re not going back tonight, River,” his voice was deep as he stared down at me.

With shaking fingers, I brushed away the strands of hair from his face so I could see those gray eyes.

“I know.”

I tracked the movement of his Adam's apple as it bobbed low when he swallowed, his eyes finally grazing lower than my face. Down to the swell of my breasts and the slight pudge of skin around my stomach.

I wasn't the skinniest of girls, another reason why I was bullied, but Andy never commented on it.

“You should get in the shower,” his voice broke the trance between us. “Your lips are blue.”

When his finger ghosted over my mouth, I let out a soft moan desperately wanting to feel the pressure of his touch everywhere.

Suddenly like a ghost, Andy had vanished from the bathroom back into his bedroom, leaving me all alone. Since the door was now shut, I rose from the toilet and stripped out of my remaining clothes.

The hot water stung like a blade against my sore skin and I groaned out in pleasure. I didn’t want to take a long shower only because the water had already been running for a while before stepping beneath it. I washed away the memories of today with Andy’s soap and wrapped a towel around me after I stepped out of the shower.

“Shit, what am I supposed to wear?” I grumbled to myself.

Slowly opening the bathroom door, the light burst into Andy’s bedroom and lit up his form lounging on his bed reading a Batman comic.

“Andy,” I said while shuffling my feet and clutching the towel close to my chest. “I don’t have any clothes.”

Setting the comic down, he hopped off the bed and went across the room, opening the drawers of his dresser to pull out a pair of boxers and a shirt.

“We’ll swing by your house at some point tomorrow to grab you some clothes. You’ll stay here for the weekend,” he said while standing in front of me.

I took the clothes with one hand. “Thank you.”

Before in the bathroom, Andy made sure not to look at the bruises covering my skin but now, he made sure to take in every single one that he could see.

The fingers imprinted around my neck.

The bruise on my shoulder, left arm, and legs.

These were the ones that he could see. The ones underneath the towel around me were worse.

His jaw ticked with the anger he so desperately tried to keep within, knowing that one outburst from him would cause me to fall into myself.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I whispered.

Andy’s eyes were dark but his voice was gentle. “Let me see all of it.”

I vigorously shook my head. “I’m fine, Andy. I just want to get dressed and go to sleep.”

All at once, I felt my body being pressed up against the wall and the towel falling to the floor at my feet. Andy’s gaze ignited as he pressed his hips against mine causing a shockwave throughout my body. His clothed cock brushed along my bare clit and I let out a moan while my eyes fluttered shut.

“Riv.”

My eyes snapped open when I felt his hand cup my cheek. Tears burned at the corners and he gently wiped them away with the pad of his thumb.

“Please,” I begged. “Don’t look. They’re ugly. I’m ugly.”

The burning anger in his iris softened at my cries but still kept me locked in place against the wall with his hips.

“You’re beautiful, angel,” he admitted with a steady voice.

Angel.

It was Andy’s nickname for me ever since sophomore year when I dressed up as a fallen angel for Halloween. We were too old to go trick or treating but not cool enough for parties so we both decided to get dressed up and spend the night in his basement getting drunk.

It was also the night I had my first kiss. We were sitting on the couch in his basement, a few drinks in, and I had my head resting on Andy’s shoulder trying so hard to stay awake for the horror movie he put on. When I looked up at him, I was shocked to see that he was already staring at me and the next thing I knew, his lips were on mine. It was a short kiss, over before I could enjoy it.

“Shit, sorry,” he apologized. “I drank too much.”

We never talked about that kiss after that night, both of us burying it away; much to my dismay.

“I’m not,” I cast my eyes away from him.

His warm breath fanned across the crook of my neck as he peppered kisses on the bruises there.

“Let me show you.”

Yet again our eyes locked with intensity, so fierce it set the space around us on fire. Andy’s hand moved down my cheek, over my neck, and the space between my breasts. I bit back a moan when his finger and thumb rolled one of my perked nipples between them.

“Will you let me show you?” He asked, nuzzling his face in my neck.

I licked my lips. “What about waiting for the right person?”

“She’s already in front of me,” Andy admitted before crashing his lips to mine.

My body had come alive with his touch and everything I wanted since freshman year was coming to fruition. Andy wanted me just as much as I wanted him. Our lips synced together perfectly, never missing a beat, as he lifted me and carried me to his bed.

That night, we both gave each other something we held so dear to ourselves. Afterward, as we lay together with our naked bodies tangled underneath his sheets, Andy pressed a kiss to my forehead when I cried in his chest, scared to go back home once Monday morning came.

“I hate being alone there. I’m afraid he’ll go too far and kill me.”

“You don’t ever have to be alone, River,” his soothing voice cooed in my ear as he cupped my cheek.

I looked up at him through the tears and choked on a sob. “Promise you’ll stay with me?”

He smiled that smile I fell in love with years ago. “I promise.”

Andy lied.

Four days later, he packed up his entire life and moved to Hollywood without a simple goodbye.

PRESENT DAY.

“River?”

I blinked while shaking my head, trying to gather my bearings again. The past had sucked me in whole, forcing me to relive that night over again. I couldn't believe Any was standing in front of me again after all these years, the moonlight breaking through the stained glass windows of the church bathed him in a glow made for kings. Even though he looked different than the last time I’d seen him, with more tattoos and shorter hair; tonight he had a small white patch in his hair. I could vaguely make out the old lip-piercing hole and I remembered how the cool metal tasted against my tongue when we kissed.

He, along with the guys around him, were dressed in their outfits for the video, so I was able to see the tattoos that littered his neck, chest, and stomach. However, those eyes were still the same.

Those haunting gray eyes stared into the soul I previously just captured again as he waited for me to say something.

Do I play it off like I don't remember him?

Right, like you could forget the guy that took your virginity.

Do I ignore him and go about work like a professional?

How is ignoring the person you’re supposed to be working with professional?

I was starting to grow tired of the little voice inside my head.

Vincent glanced between Andy and me, pointing a finger. “Do you two know each other?”

“We went to high school together,” Andy answered before I could.

“No shit,” Vincent chuckled. “What a small world.”

“Right,” I snorted venomously.

Andy’s eyes sliced into me but I ignored him by giving him my back and looking over at Vincent.

“I’ll get shots of them later. Radio me when you’re ready.”

When he nodded, I took that as my cue to leave although I made it only a few steps before my name was called from behind.

“You’re not even going to say hello, Riv.”

I spun so fast on my heels, the end of my braid snapped to the other side of my face and I pointed a finger at Andy.

“I’m not doing this with you. Not here and especially not right now. Both of us have a job to do. Let’s keep it that way.”

One of the guys next to Andy watched us carefully and I could practically see the light click on above his head.

“Wait, River as in River from high school,” the guy said.

“Yeah, Jinxx,” Andy answered before taking a step towards me.

I took a large step away from him. “I already said I’m here to do my job, that’s it.”

Before he could try and sweet talk his way into my life, just like that night, I turned back around and marched out of the church, calling back that I was going to take some shots of it.

Once outside, I let the cold night air brush the hot tears away from my face as my heart nearly burst out from my chest, sobs echoing throughout the vastness of the sky.

No. This cannot be happening.

For the last nine years, I spent my life crying over that man, wondering what I did wrong that night to make him leave me behind. He promised to stay with me but still left.

Was I not good enough? Worthy of being by his side?

Nine years I spent stuck in Ohio wondering why with the bitter taste of Hennessy, drinking away my sorrows and regrets. It wasn’t until a year ago when I finally questioned myself in the reflection of the bottle that I took whatever money I had left from selling my father's house after he died to move across the county to California.

The last year I spent building myself up to the women I was now and creating my career empire with my photography. I refused to let the past crumble everything I worked so hard for; no matter how good he looked now or how bad I wanted to taste his lips again.

“Get a hold of yourself,” I seethed. “He left you.”

The sound of music from inside blasted through the walls of the church letting me know that they started shooting and choosing not to dwell on Andy showing back up into my life, I took a few shots of the church outside. Then I reluctantly walked back inside knowing I couldn’t avoid him forever and decided to get some pictures of the guys.

Andy’s eyes quickly found me but I did my best to ignore him by hiding behind my camera. His voice erupted through the speakers and it brought back every single time during music class in high school when he would sing in front of the class or solo for me in his bedroom.

My bottom lip trembled as I blew out a shaky breath while walking over to where Vincent sat, just as he yelled cut.

“Did you get your shots?” He wondered.

Clicking back through all of the pictures, I pursed my lips at the realization that while I got great shots of the other band members, I hadn’t gotten any shots of Andy mostly because I avoided him at all costs.

“I need some of Andy,” I said with a long breath.

“No problem. I think we got everything we need with this scene. Next up is the scene of him sitting in the pew alone so you can get them now,” Vincent patted my shoulder as he stood from the chair.

“Lovely,” I grumbled while walking back towards the altar of the church directly in Andy’s path.

He was talking with one of his band members but when he caught sight of me, he met me halfway.

“Riv,” he began.

“Don’t,” I seethed, walking past him. “You lost the right to call me that when you left me.”

“Can I explain please?” Andy asked while reaching for my elbow.

I yanked it out of his grasp, ready to move to the opposite side of the church when his voice halted me.

“Angel.”

Whirling around so fast, I nearly dropped my camera to the ground when I pushed him in his chest.

“Don’t you fucking ever call me that again!” I nearly screamed. “You don’t have the right to call me that.”

Anytime I heard that name, all I would think about was our first kiss and the night we slept together.

His eyes softened, almost begging me to listen. “Please, angel. I have to explain-.”

“NO!” My voice echoed inside the church. “There’s nothing to explain, Andy. Anything that comes out of your mouth is a lie.”

“Do you guys need a moment?” Vincent’s voice carried over to us.

“No!”

“Yes!”

Andy and I both said at the same time.

“You know what, I think a break is a good idea. Let’s take thirty and come back,” Vincent directed to everyone with a wave of a finger.

Having every intention of spending that thirty minutes alone in my trailer, I brushed past Andy and nearly tripped over my feet as I ran down the concrete steps, the vision of my solace getting closer and closer. Just before I could slam the door shut behind me, it closed on a body with an audible ouch.

“Leave me alone, Andy!” I yelled.

He stood tall in the small confines of the trailer, his broad chest heaving with each deep breath from chasing after me. His bare chest underneath his opened jacket and for a second, I allowed myself to study those visible tattoos. The eagle on his sternum, the sword in the crease of his stomach, the tiger neck to it. I couldn’t make out the tattoo across his neck or chest but I could make out the 26 in a hear on his neck.

“Not until you let me explain,” he said.

I grabbed the end of my braid, ripping it out so my dark hair could fall around my shoulders.

“I swear to fucking God himself, if you say explain one more time I’m going to-.”

“Do what, angel?” He raised a brow while resting his hands on his hips.

I pointed to the door. “Get out.”

Andy didn’t move.

“You're unbelievable,” I growled while making a beeline for the door instead, only to have him block my path.

“I had to leave.”

I blinked up at him, mouth agape. “What?”

We were so close now, his familiar scent encasing me with its vise grip, and my mind kept screaming at me to create space.

He ran a hand over his short hair and took a deep breath. “I had to leave. That Monday morning after you left, I got a call from an agent in Los Angeles offering me a small gig in a commercial. It's what I needed to get my foot in the door, to get Black Veil Brides started, so I took it. But I had to be out there the day after they called me.”

“So you left me behind, without a single fucking goodbye,” I sneered, pushing past him to the other side of the trailer.

“I didn’t have a choice!” Andy’s voice was raised now, it echoing off the walls.

“You could have told me! You know I would have followed you!” I shot back.

He began pacing the narrow space while having his hands on his hips. “I couldn’t, River. Not without knowing that everything would have paid off in the end. I couldn’t have you with me while I suffered.”

I chuckled dryly. “Oh but suffering back home alone was fine with you?”

“I wanted to reach out and check on how you were doing,” his shoulders slumped.

“My number has been the same,” I held out my hands. “I lived in the same fucking house for nine years after you left. You could have come to see me.”

When he said nothing, his lips unmoving, I grew angrier and pushed his chest, ten years of holding everything in finally exploding.

“You lied!”

Push.

“You left me with him to beat on me for another three fucking years until he died!”

Push.

“You made me a promise and broke it!”

I cried with one final push, causing Andy to fall back onto the couch, stormy eyes staring up at me. Tears were streaming down my face and my eyes burned with anger for the man in front of me.

“You told me you would never leave me,” I snarled through gritted teeth. “You said you wouldn’t and you fucking did.”

When he reached for my hand, I smacked it away.

“Please, angel,” he begged. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. But I wasn’t in the best place. I couldn’t have you be with me, seeing all that shit. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“Just tell me all you wanted from me was sex so I can finally put the nail in the coffin, Andy,” I said with a shaky breath.

His face fell. “That’s not even remotely true, River.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. After tonight, you’ll go back to your band and life as a rockstar.”

With my back turned, I gathered my camera and was ready to get back to work when an arm wrapped around me from behind.

“Come with me, angel,” Andy’s soft voice brushed along the shell of my ear.

When I felt myself falling into his embrace, almost ready to give in, I pushed away from him. He made me so mad I could throw something at him. My camera or the chair.

Myself.

“You’re insane,” I shook my head.

He linked our hands together so I could face him, the pleading bright in his eyes. “Give me a chance to make up for the last ten years.”

I stared blankly at him, trying to determine if this was a cruel trick.

“You don’t deserve my time, Andy. What we used to have is gone, you can’t fix it or try to bring it back.”

“You’re not even going to let me try?” He asked.

“Why should I? So that you can break my heart again? You don’t realize how much of myself I gave to you; parts I can never take back. You were my first kiss!” I raised my voice.

He blinked. “I didn’t know that.”

I scoffed while shaking my head again. “Of course you didn’t, Andy. Because you never brought it up again. You blamed it on the alcohol that night. What’s your excuse for the night we lost our virginity to each other?”

Before Andy could speak, I waved him off and headed towards the door of the trailer.

“It’s not even worth it anymore,” I muttered with my hand on the handle.

Suddenly in a whirlwind, I felt myself being hoisted up and pressed against the bathroom door. Those dark gray eyes were reading my face, assessing every movement of my gaze as it burned into him. Andy held my hands pinned to my sides and kept me locked into place with his hips. The imprint of his cock was felt against the material of my leggings and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the moan quiet.

It’d been so long since I felt his touch and I was ready to throw out everything, all of my morals, just to have him again.

“River,” his hand cupped my cheek, the coolness of his rings almost a shock to my warm skin.

I said nothing, simply glaring up at him with a clenched jaw.

“Riv. Come with me.”

AnDy breathed over my lips and I nearly lost it. But I still kept strong, not wanting to be the first one to falter. I worked so hard to build myself back up after he left and there was no way I could allow myself to fall.

Not again.

His thumb lifted my chin, keeping it locked in his grip, and his eyes dropped to my lips; a silent question.

“Fuck you,” I spat.

Something dark flashed in Andy’s eyes as a sinister smirk played on his lips. One that I recognized all too well even though it was never directed at me.

“I don’t ever remember you being such a brat,” he tsked.

I swallowed thickly, unsure how the tension between us went from anger to sexual, but at that moment with him eyeing me hungrily, I didn’t want to question it.

“How could you remember? You’ve been gone for ten years,” I shot back.

Andy pressed his hips harder against me and this time I wasn’t able to hold back the moan. It slipped through my lips with sheer pleasure and I let my head fall against the door behind me.

“I wasn’t drunk the night we slept together, River,” Andy’s hand wrapped around my neck, thumb now on my pulse point. “Or that entire weekend.”

My cheeks flushed when I remembered we had sex multiple times that weekend. We never left his bedroom and thankfully, his parents left the next morning for a friend's wedding so they had no idea I was there.

“All I ever wanted was you,” his voice was low.

I raised my chin at him. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, an action I watched intently, and then his voice dropped even lower. Those usually bright eyes were dark and it made the air thick, heated, and full of spice. It made it harder to breathe as his grip tightened around my throat slightly.

“Let me show you.”

Those four words sent both of us back to his bedroom during high school and just like that night, I succumbed to the darkness that was Andy Biersack; consequences be damned.

“Are you still waiting for the right person?” My question was a breath over his lips.

A low noise rumbled in Andy’s chest as his hand gripped behind my neck, yanking my mouth to his.

“She’s right in front of me.”

Every single doubt and fight I had within me vanished the second our lips touched, those familiar fireworks exploding. My hands were all over Andy; his neck, chest, ribs, and back as they sneaked underneath his jacket. While one of his hands continued to grip the back of my neck, the other held tight on my hip so I couldn’t leave.

As if I wanted to.

Our tongues molded together and he swallowed my moan when his teeth bit down on my bottom lip. For a moment, reality struck with clarity and I pushed Andy off of me, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand.

“You need to leave,” I warned, breathless.

His lips were kiss swollen and his jacket was falling off of his shoulders as those stormy eyes never left my lips.

“Do you want that? Because if you do, I’ll leave right now.”

When I remained silent, Andy smirked while grasping the back of my head to crash his lips on mine again, this time with more hunger. It was as if he was a man starved, desperate for his last meal.

“You need to go,” I groaned when his lips began trailing down my chin and neck.

“Go where?” He asked. “Here?”

A gentle bite to the shell of my ear.

“Or here?”

A kiss on the sensitive part of my skin between my neck and shoulder which caused me to shiver in his embrace.

“What about here, angel? Do you want me here?”

The head of his cock brushed along my clit from underneath our clothes and I nearly fell at his feet until Andy’s strong arms lifted me to carry me over to the small twin-size bed on the other end of the trailer.

“It’s like we're back in my childhood bedroom with this small ass bed,” he grumbled.

I fell onto the cheap mattress with a slight giggle but it was hushed with Andy consuming me once more. My entire soul went up in a fiery blaze when he began rutting his hips into me and it was as if we were a couple of teenagers again making out and thinking that was the best part of it. We couldn’t keep our hands off of each other as I helped him out of his jacket and he all but ripped my sweater off, leaving me in an olive green bralette.

His eyes darkened before he left teeth marks between the swell of my breasts, lapping up his saliva and dried sweat from the day and I raked my nails through the buzzed hair.

“I miss your long hair,” I gasped, feeling his tongue slip between the material of my bra and catching my nipple.

“I’ve missed the way you tasted, River,” Andy mused while kissing his way back up to my lips.

This time the kiss was slow, as if we had the rest of our lives together and there was no need to rush anything. It was like he was trying to imprint me into him, never wanting to forget anything again.

I reached for the button on his pants, pulling down the zipper to slip my hand inside, palming his hard cock.

Holy. Shit.

It was a lot thicker than ten years ago.

“Shit, Riv,” he cursed when I squeezed him. “Just like that.”

I did it a few more times while his forehead fell to my chest, panting his warm breath over my skin. I lifted his face with my other hand to kiss him again, the savageness poured out of him.

The room smelled of our desperation as I shimmied out of my leggings while he stepped out of his pants, after unhooking my bra and tossing it over his shoulder. As Andy stood at the end of the bed, I let my eyes rake over every defined muscle of his body; tongue begging for a simple taste of the ink on his skin and the head of his cock that was almost slipping through his briefs; the black briefs doing absolutely nothing to hide his arousal.

Rising to my knees on the bed, I ran my palm over his cock again, his entire body shivering underneath my touch.

"Fuck, angel,” Andy groaned before his teeth grasped at my bottom lip, yanking it away from me.

I hissed in pleasure, the taste of copper lingering on my tongue.

"Did you-." I licked my bottom lip and then tilted my head to the side. "Did you just bite me?"

Andy pushed me back down on the bed so he could take in the sight of me bare for him; those stormy eyes were now clear with only one thing.

Heat.

“I can’t believe I went ten years without this,” he muttered to himself while stepping out of his briefs, his cock finally springing free.

I licked my lips at the sight of it, salivating for a taste of the precum that he smeared over the head. But instead, I felt like being a brat with Andy, not allowing him to think I wasn’t still upset with him.

“It’s your own fucking fault,” I shot back with a sly smirk, resting on my elbows.

My squeals echoed in the trailer when Andy flipped my tiny frame over on the mattress so my ass was exposed to his palm, a hard strike falling onto it. I writhed against the bed when another harsh strike came down on my ass, my mewls of pleasure being drowned out by the pillow.

“You’re such an ass,” I seethed when the spankings stopped.

Andy palmed my reddened cheek while looming over my back, his breath warm on my neck.

“Do you still like it rough, River?” His question was heavy on his tongue.

That weekend we spent together, I divulged what kind of kinks I might have been into due to my own research. Andy let me try things with him while I did the same and needless to say, all these years later he still knew exactly what my body needed to come alive for him.

Instead of answering, I raised my hips from the bed with his name falling from my lips in a whine full of desperation. Andy had barely touched me but the wetness between my legs was warm and sticky.

I needed this release more than oxygen.

"What do you want from me?" His fingers dragged up my slick folds from his position behind me before slipping one inside, the feeling of his rings making me stiffen.

My head was turned to the side so I could gaze up at him over my shoulder. However, he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were trained hard on his finger pumping in and out of my pussy, the sounds of my arousal overpowering the sounds of my panting. Seeing the desperation on his face as he tried to hold himself back made me push my ass closer to Andy.

“Use your words, Riv,” he ordered while flicking his eyes to me for a moment.

I shook my head, words foreign when he slipped another finger inside of me, spreading them wide like a V.

“Did you forget how to speak?”

Andy clicked his tongue against his teeth, ready to pull his fingers out when my begging halted him.

"You. I just want you."

The bed shifted behind me when I noticed Andy disappear only to feel the wetness of his tongue press against my pussy to lick my arousal. The sharpness of his teeth scraped along my clit as he buried his face deeper into the sweet spot between my legs.

“You still taste so good, River,” he mused, pressing gentle kisses on the inside of my thigh.

“Don’t stop,” I all but whined, wanting to feel his tongue again.

Andy ate me out from behind with both hands on my hips, continuing to keep me in place as my body writhed on the bed from the onslaught of his mouth. When his lips wrapped around my clit to suck hard on the sensitive bud, I screamed out his name.

“Andy,” I drowned it out with a moan. “It’s so good. I’m so close.”

With the indication my orgasm was on the brink of collapse, he slipped a finger inside of me again. While his mouth was a rough attack on my clit, his finger was a gentle caress of my inner walls with slow strokes. Sheer ecstasy was slowly building at the base of my spine, warming up all of my senses until I felt like I could combust at any moment. Andy flicked his tongue over my clit and I buried my face into the pillow, the musky scent of my wellness tickling my nose as my body shook out my orgasm. My cries of release sounded like music to Andy’s ears as he hummed in praise, drinking up my arousal as it gushed over his tongue and fingers.

It had been so long since I had an orgasm that wasn’t brought on by my hand or a toy. I lay limp on the bed, breathless, as the after-shocks slowly began to fade along with the hazy bright lights, my soul returning from wherever it retreated to. I barely felt the kisses upon my thigh and then lower back as Andy dragged a finger down my spine.

“Still on birth control?” He asked, lust gone from his voice for a second.

I nodded while glancing over my shoulder and seeing my arousal coating his lips. The sight was so intoxicating that I almost uttered those three words that plagued my existence since I first met him.

“River,” he tapped my back, bringing me out of my thoughts.

“Implant,” I replied.

My head leaned back in pure bliss when Andy dug his nails into my hips as he pressed himself past my wetness, the thickness of his cock filling me. It twitched inside of me, earning a disgustingly desperate groan from me.

It felt nothing like it did ten years ago. It felt better.

Andy left no space between us as he held us in place on the small mattress and I tried to move my hips in his grip. It was so rough, I knew I would have bruises later but frankly, I didn’t care. All I cared about was how good it felt to have him inside of me again.

“So tight, angel. I can’t-.”

His eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted to an 'O' shape when I rocked my hips against him with my swollen clit rubbing against the cool blanket and I shivered at the sensation. Everything from our fight to our kiss sent me in a spiral of pure ecstasy and I felt the coil in my stomach pulling tight again. My previous orgasm was still lingering and it didn’t take long before I felt that familiar tingly feeling in my spine.

“Andy, I’m going to-.”

Still inside of me, he managed to flip me over so now I was staring up at those dark eyes; pupils blown wide with lust. Now, Andy didn’t hold back as he hooked my leg up and around his shoulder so he could thrust in a deeper angle.

“Oh god,” I closed my eyes, the new sensation causing the coil to hurt.

“Eyes on me, River!” He snapped with a low growl and I immediately obeyed. "You're so fucking beautiful, angel. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry it’s been ten years.”

I didn’t want to hear his apology. I only wanted to have that coil spring free with my second orgasm. I attacked his lips with such force Andy had to hold himself up with one hand on the headboard, the other slipping between the place where our bodies met to play with my clit; exactly how I liked. Our tongues explored each other's mouths in a kiss so vicious it made my head spin. Andy’s pace was erratic and merciless but it didn’t stop me from begging.

"More," I mumbled into his lips.

That's all he needed before he maneuvered us so he sat in the middle of the bed with me in his lap and he held me closer to his chest as his hips snapped up into me in violent strokes, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot. I yelled out my pleasure, exposing my neck to Andy who immediately attacked it with his teeth leaving bite marks all along the skin sticky with sweat.

My body hummed in a prayer-like awaking, the flames and heat burning high in my belly as my organs crested higher; so fucking high I was afraid I would combust into nothing but matter in the air. His name fell from my lips in devotion, a woman praying to her God, and my toes curled as the orgasm ripped through me with so much force I screamed out in pure nirvana.

“I love you, River,” Andy professed with a strangled breath as he spilled himself inside of me, cock throbbing with his release.

“What did you say?” I questioned, almost unsure if I had heard him correctly.

He cupped my cheek, eyes softening. “I love you.”

My bottom lip trembled at those three words; the words I wanted to hear for years.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it,” Andy brushed away my hair from my face. “But it’s true. I’m at a better place where now admitting it out loud doesn't scare me.”

We stayed like that, bodies tangled together in the silence for a few long moments until he laid us on the bed. I very quickly detached myself from him so I could put some space between us.

Although he admitted how he felt, I wasn't ready to yet. I knew that I loved him ever since high school, but it was my turn to be afraid of what would happen if I admitted it out loud.

Instead, I remained silent while lying on my stomach on the bed, resting my chin on my hand to gaze down at his tattoos again. One of them immediately caught my attention and I smiled at it, a fond memory cresting to the surface.

“I remember being with you when you got this,” I whispered while trailing a finger over the black and yellow Batman logo on his arm.

“I still have the comics you got me for my birthday,” he said while propping his arm behind his head.

My heart skipped at that because it meant that he was thinking of me during our time away.

“But you couldn’t come to see me,” I muttered under my breath as I turned from him.

Andy reached for me to pull my back to his chest and lock me into place with a leg over my hips. His left hand grazed up and down my arm, sending shivers all over my skin, and I let out a soft breath.

“Will you stay with me, River?”

I sat on his question for a few long beats, letting it sink in if it was something I truly wanted. My life in Hollywood wasn’t set in place, I’d always been on the move. But the thought of uprooting everything to be with Andy scared the shit out of me. How could I trust that he won’t leave me again?

Then why did you sleep with him? You plan on leaving after this, so you’re no better than him.

“Why now?” I sat up to gaze down at him, his arm falling away from me. “How come now you want to make things work between us?”

He hesitated with inner turmoil eating away inside as he slowly sat up and ran a hand over his short hair.

“I was married for six years. The divorce was finalized last year.”

My heart sank into the depths of my stomach; no farther. It fell straight to Tartarus.

“We were together for a total of eight years but the longer our relationship went on I began to realize it wasn’t what I wanted. Who I wanted,” Andy explained.

There was absolutely no reason for me to be upset with him because while he was married, I had been casually dating. None of them were ever serious enough to last more than a few months. But it still caused an ache in my heart.

“Then why did you stay with her for as long as you did?” I asked.

Andy has a soft smile. “I loved her, in a different way than I love you. But sometimes that kind of love isn’t enough. Not when someone else held my heart first.”

Tears burned in my eyes and I blew out a shaky breath. “If that were true, Andy, then you would have come to me first. You wouldn’t have gotten married.”

Removing myself from his grasp, I began slipping on my discarded pieces of clothing while he continued to sit in bed, naked.

“I’m not saying I’m perfect, River. But I’ve grown a lot in the last few years. The Andy you used to know wouldn’t have been good for you.”

“And now?” I asked with my hands on my hips.

The smile that played on his lips grew wider. “Now, I would love to have you come on the road with me. We leave in a few days for our North America leg then jump overseas for a few weeks. Plenty of time to make up for old times and prove I’ve changed.”

I laughed. “You want me to stop what I’m doing here to come follow you? Give up potential jobs? Just to be your roadie?”

Andy’s jaw twitched but with a deep breath, he gathered himself from the bed and stepped back into his briefs and pants.

“You can be our photographer. I’ll talk it over with our management team, that way you can be getting paid.”

I pursed my lips in consideration because his offer was a pretty good one. But was it worth spending all that time together?

You love and miss him.

I sighed at the voice in my head, knowing it was true. Seeing him again brought up all the old feelings I spent years burying, trying to forget, and it was clear that Andy still felt the same.

“You remember all the plans we made? When we were hoping for better days? You wanted to become a photographer and I wanted to sing in a band. We have that now. What’s stopping you from saying yes?” He took a small step towards me.

“The promise you betrayed,” I said flatly.

Andy’s shoulders fell. “You don’t have to forgive me for leaving you, Riv. But I swear to you that if you come with me, I will spend every day from here on out proving to you that you’re all I want.”

When I didn’t say anything, he wrapped his arms around me and oh so gently, laid a kiss on my lips.

“I love you, River Murray,” he professed. “We can start over; fresh. But only if this is something you want. If not, then we can both leave with some closure and go our separate ways.”

I couldn’t explain the way my heart physically ached with the thought of leaving tonight and forgetting about Andy. Even with all the anger and hurt, I couldn't imagine acting like tonight didn’t happen. Maybe there was a small possibility that we could work through our issues, gain that trust back, and finally find what we were desperate to have.

But the betrayal weighed heavy in my soul along with the fear of Andy doing it again, only this time while I was with him and leaving me stranded.

“River, if you’re with Andy, can you have him come to set? We’re ready to start again.”

I jumped at the sudden loud crackle of the radio, Vincent’s voice breaking through the clouds of confusion.

With a sigh, Andy slipped back into his shoes and jacket.

“Let’s get back to work, yeah? We can talk more about this on the next break,” he said.

I swallowed the waver in my voice as it broke. “I’m actually going to sit here for a bit since I’m not needed right now.”

Andy’s thumb brushed along the soft skin of my cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, angel.”

He left me with a kiss on the cheek and for the first time since reuniting with Andy, I fell to the ground with sobs wracking my body. Everything I worked hard to overcome was shattered by those three words and his offer. It terrified me to completely allow him in again but I also didn’t want to let him go.

The decision was made in an instant as I rose from the floor, hastily wiping away the tears, and gathered my things together. I knew what I chose would have repercussions, some I may never recover from, but as the door of the trailer slammed behind me, it would be alright. Because my heart said it would be.

#tina talks #andy biersack #andy black #black veil brides #bvb #andy black fanfiction #andy biersack fanfiction

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arenabreadandbiscuits · 7 months ago

Text

Sooo... Can we talk about Vox and Alastor Cause I'm literally obsessed...

Basically headcanons since of course I seen the post running around where Viv calls their relationship sad and complicated.

Being an 'angst-girlie' I HAVE to gobble this up so here's a few headcanons I immediately thought about.

Mentions of Valentinos acts against humanity so watch out for that. A bit, like a smidge, of kissing and making out mentioned as well.

For Starters

I happily wrote a fanfic for pics that @milariro drew (lovely artist, check em out!) and I think Valentino definitely plays a big roll in the fallout.

So Vox and Alastor were pals yeah, hung out, chit chatted, ate food together, even got close enough for Alastor to feel comfortable doing more intimate actions like cuddling and hugging and such.

I can't help but think of Vox perhaps being on the Acespectrum himself? He's giving "I will but I don't have to" so I get more demi vibes off of him. He probably doesn't give a fuck about anyone else like he does with Alastor so that's why.

I think he could build intimacy with others yes but he's so focused on his work usually outside of his competition.

Vox probably came to hell and started off really small and little so as he grew, he wanted to grow and took his time to try and get bigger. I would say that Valentino could come in here if not later when Vox seemed to develop feelings for Alastor and in doing so Alastor wants to return those said feelings but he's scared.

Scared of what? The unknown.

He probably is someone who doesn't like when he can't see what's going to occur or happen before it actually does.

He's a runner. Imma say that because I can be one. He cares for Vox but he can't stop the way his heart seems to race when they get just a bit too close...

Valentino probably comes in and ruins everything, most likely at a time when Alastor starts to get some sort of understanding on his own feelings and seeing Vox practically become infatuated with Valentino really leaves a void in his own heart.

Of course he wants to support Vox in his endeavors but... Valentino? Out of all people?

Alastor is most likely disgusted by even the thought of Valentino and seeing Vox so happy and eager with him sets. Him. Off.

A lot of arguments now, harsh words and such and really it's from Vox as he's confused and lost as to Alastor's behavior. He probably picked up on it and asked multiple times just for Alastor to brush him off every time so now that smoke is in the air everything is coming out.

Vox probably would confess he's in love with Alastor in this argument, tears, crying and all and Alastor can't help the way he feels about it

He feels he's at fault, and his airy silence doesn't help with all the anguish in the air already

He's scared. He loves Vox as well but something about the situation makes it hard for Alastor to swallow all the information and this leads to the 7 year disappearance

This mother fucker definitely leaves without saying a single thing to Vox and that hurts Vox more than anything else.

What else can Vox do without a single letter or sign as to where his friend went and of course he's going to know he's the reason to a certain extent

It definitely hurts both of them, like... World shattering.

Vox has no choice but to go to Valentino.

I can't help but analyze how Vox seemed... Happy? That he thought Angeldust quit when Valentino was raging. Vox does not love this man...

He of course knows about the things Valentino does... Or maybe... He doesn't? Like maybe he has an idea but he hates to think about it... He's never around when it actually happens to someone?

Valentino probably...has even done things to Vox himself?

Maaaannn like I said these aren't canon ofc but now I'm just rambling. Vox probably goes through similar ways of abuse from Val but he just puts up with it like everyone else? I can see him being so broken behind closed doors and when he's in front of others he puts on the cocky persona of his. It's something he's picked up from Alastor, smiling was a tactic all on its own.

He's unconscious of it but Vox thinks of Alastor all the time; when he wakes, when he works, etc etc and I think that in very little ways Alastor does the same thing.

Alastor definitely thinks of Vox often but he's so much better at hiding it. These two are so broken when they are alone.

I'm hoping they talk more about these two but OMG imagine so heartfelt ass communication after so maybe years... They definitely need it, to air out everything

And imagine that while they are Vox is speaking and Alastor is adamantly listening as he's always done and before he even knows it he's leaning forward, closer and Vox doesn't necessarily realize it until Alastor is just a breath away.

Tbh Alastor wouldn't even know what he was doing, it's like he's doing it unconsciously...no thoughts in mind and when Vox stops for a moment and just right then everything just seems to make sense? Alastor looks at him as if there's nothing but him and Vox would return the gaze before they closed in with a kiss

It's not just a little kiss either, it's one that starts off soft and gentle and leads into something hotter... Something raunchy as they cling to each other and hold each other.

Someone drew a pick with Vox being pinned against the wall by Alastor while kissing and I'll tag them (HERE) when I find them again but yeah it's like that.

It's like Alastor is letting off steam that's been trapped inside him for all those years even prior to his disappearance and he wants to be careful and gentle but he's... Excited, happy to have Vox in his arms again so he gets rough, biting, nipping, sucking until Vox seems to just completely become goop against him because in reality this is all he's wanted from Alastor... To be close to him, to hug him, to kiss him...

To help him, to protect him, to watch him grow and grow together with him.

Alastor still struggles with admitting it but he's just as happy to be with Vox too. (It's giving soulmates?? Soulmate AU ANYONE??! I'LL WRITE IT? PAY ME AND ILL START IT TODAY???!!! Support a disabled writer and I'll write whatever you want!~ current commission status: 3/5 stories to be done which I'll be working on right after this post)

Ahem...

But anyway they are married your honor!

I can see Vox coming to the Hotel after he manages to break free of Valentino. Maybe running off and disappearing on him and pulling an Alastor while Valentino rages at everyone else to find him. Velvet is broken between helping and not.

Vox coming to the hotel would be a shit fest to start off but... He is actually really helpful, and he takes the time to rebuild a connection with Angeldust and Alastor and he seems just so much more... Happy and genuine? And sometimes when Alastor notices he can't help but show a genuine smile as he admires Vox.

They would eventually come together to help publicize the hotel and WOAH are they banging!

The radio demon and TV demon have come together to help some crappy hotel rehabilitate sinners? Holy shit!

They reel people in from all over for various reasons whether it be fangirls shipping them or people actually wanting help and to grow...

They are happy together but...

Valentino and whoever is on his side of things definitely managed to also pick up on the sudden booming aura coming off of that hotel and maybe...maybe they'll pay a visit.

One that reminds Vox of everything that Valentino did to him and OMG imagine Vox having a panic attack or something, running off because he knows it's Val? Leaving Alastor to go hunt for him?

A fight would be interesting.

Alright alright, imma shut up.

I wrote this write the angst in mind but of course I rambled hahah. Either way, I said what I said. ÙwÚ

If you made it this far follow? Reblog? Comment???

MWAH 💋

- A

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aquaquadrant · 16 days ago

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was rereading the first part of final chapter of HTP and got caught up thinking about the whole “go get x if we don’t come back by tomorrow” thing between grian and mumbo. what if they didn’t come back. what would x do who would he go to.

i’m a MCSR addict and considering MCC, i’ve been thinking that he goes to some of the crazy good players that the hermits have been teamed with. feinberg, fruitberries, hbomb, petezahutt, and purpled are the main ones— five of the best players going feral to help out their silly little hermit friends. fein and fruit especially cause fein’s teamed with tango, and fruit is fruit. his friendship with grian in old mcc’s makes me so happy. “fruity b!!” being screamed from grian when fruit finds him from whatever they caught got by in hels makes me so happy.

anyway here’s my hels names for my silly little guys:

feinberg — matthew (irl, feinberg is his last name. matthew is his first name)

fruitberries — rotthorn (rot & thorn. fruit rots and berry bushes have thorns)

purpled — yellowed (complementary colors)

petezahutt — dominoes (goes by “dom”)

hbomb94 — honestly no idea please help guys

anyway hi sorry i’m nate i found htp like 2 weeks ago and went a smidge crazy for it. suggested it to all my friends who don’t even know what a hermitcraft or a life series is. hehe. teehee went a little wild. anyway thanks for listening to me yap and thank you for making such a good fic and such a good au you’ve given me so many brainwaves.

HELLO THANK U welcome to our lil corner of gay blockman angst 🫡

gotta be honest, when i had grian say they’d have to tell x it was more along the lines of just ‘he’s the admin and admins should be informed of these kinds of things’ rather than implicating any sort of plan of action on x’s part. but if he HAD gotten involved it prob would’ve been limited to the other hermits (on account of me not being familiar with any players outside of hermitcraft havsjdgajhahs….)

but damn those are some NEAT HELS u got there, idk these players but the names are very pleasing 👀

hbomb94… it’s annoying he’s already got ‘h’ in his name cuz that’s usually my go-to swap letter for a hels HAH so maybe we just keep it. but u could take ‘bomb’ as in the actual physical weapon, a violent action, or complete failure and that provides some fun opportunities. right off the dome i’m thinking either ‘napalm’ (phonetically similar) or ‘blitz’ (describing the action of bombing) or ‘flop’. u could ALSO get into opposites but typically i like to use the more dramatic/violent/edgy names for most hels. ofc it also depends on what characterization ur going for and i don’t know hbomb well enough to design a hels definitively. and for numbers i just swap em. SO some options for ya: napalm49 (dropped the h so it’s the same number of syllables), hblitz49, hflop49.

#hels to pay au #HTP ask #and that concludes my impromptu mini-session abt my process for naming hels LMAO sorry for rambling #and the only time i watched MCC is when my blorbos played #clapping cheering screaming as imp skizz etho and tango finish dead last 🙌🙌🙌#anyway ALL THIS TO SAY i’m tragically undereducated in regards to the larger mcyt-verse #i’m sure there’s LOTS of tasty hels opportunities out there

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netherfeildren · 2 years ago

Text

FEAR OF GOD : Chapter II : Although a monster [Joel] could be charming in company

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC

Content Warnings: Angst, possessive behavior, unprotected sex (there are no condoms in the apocalypse, only vibes), oral sex (f!receiving), squirting, brief non-graphic descriptions of medical procedures / illness, brief discussion of avoiding meals (no reference to any sort of ED), stupid! Joel ™️

Summary: Joel gets a little stupid and a little jealous.

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: I wanted to mention that that I've altered the timeline a smidge to benefit my own whims. So the Joel we find here is about 50-51 and our reader is in her mid to late 20's (cw: age gap 🤓) Everything else in the timeline is the same up until Joel and Ellie return to Jackson.

Another thing, I hella make shit up in this chapter. I talk about a surgical device and there’s discussions of like mechanical/electrical engineering? which I know fuck all about. So if it reads as nonsense I sincerely apologize. There’s a fair bit of character/world building in this ch. so I hope you all can bear with me for a smidge. There is the gift of porn at the end though >:)

Chapter title is from Anne Carson’s Autobiography of Red (my favorite book in the whole world which everyone should read). Art is Intimacy by Angelica Alzona

Word count: a whopping 9.6k (I'm so sorry 😭)

Read on AO3

CHAPTER II: Although a monster [Joel] could be charming in company

What it looked like?

Like fucking the forest for once birdless, beastless.

Like measuring the distance between all that’s lost

and everything else that, even now, waved at

hard enough sometimes,

will sometimes wave back.

But it felt like swallowing the sea–

being forced to, ships and all.

Then a silence as vast as it was particular.

The like holding a mirror up to Apollo

and expecting his face there, when Apollo’s always been

faceless, obviously, being a god.

And the hand still holding the mirror up anyway.

And the face not showing.

-Carl Phillips, Star Map with Action Figures

“I mean, yeah, I’d fuckin’ like to think so. I’m not sure. She told me –”

“Ellie, you’re overthinking the hell out of it.”

“I am not,” she grumbles.

“You’re a dumbass,” you deadpan.

That riles her up. “Me?! You!”

“What’ve I done? It’s pretty obvious what’s happening here – Dina wants you to ask her out – you’re too chicken shit to step up.”

“Okay, genius. Y’don’t know what you’re talking about, first of all.” The sass on this girl, honestly. The two of you sit together at the picnic tables that’d been set out in the town center for the monthly barbecue. “You think you’re so damn smart. Well lemme just ask you this, what’s going on with Joel? You two’ve been weird as fuck lately.” That shuts you up quick.

“Don’t even start with that. The answer is nothing.”

She gives you that knowing look of hers, but let’s it go. Silently says: I know this hurts, so I won’t push. Out loud: “You started it, motherfucker.” You yank on her bangs, and she swats you away. “Maybe I should call you a fatherfucker instead,” she cackles.

“Oh my god, I actually hate you.” You try and swat her back, yank on her bangs again.

“What’re you two schemin’ about?” Joel’s voice comes from behind you.

“Speak’a the devil,” she says under her breath, starting to gather up her empty plate.“Nothing–” She shoots up, and brushes past, “Gotta go. We’ll talk later,” not even sparing him a glance. You look between the two of them wishing there was anything you could do to help them bridge this cold distance between them. She turns before walking off, gives you the finger behind his back.

“Ellie, hold on a sec,” you call after her, but she’s off.

“It’s fine,” Joel says. “Leave it.”

“I’m sorry,” shielding your eyes from the bright sun, you look up into his serious face.

He shakes his head. “Nothin’ for you to be sorry about. Ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.” And that stings. Off-handedly as it’s said, it stings that he thinks their rift doesn’t affect you, make you hurt for the two of them.

How could he ever think that after everything he’d told you about Sarah – a night that’d made you feel closer to him than ever before, while you two lay in bed, still damp and trembling – that you’d not worry about his relationship now with Ellie? Who you knew he loved like a daughter, even if he was incapable of saying it out loud. How could he think it had nothing to do with you now? After what he’d told you about himself in the aftermath of Sarah. That moment, his confession, could sustain you for a lifetime of this push and pull if necessary. With trust like that, what else mattered? Very little, you thought.

“You get everything done you needed to?” he threads his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck, and bends to press a soft kiss to your temple.

You sigh, basking in this small tenderness he offers you after his casual hurt. “Yeah, we finished.” Sometimes you wonder if there’s something wrong with you, taking all this in stride. Luxuriating in his offerings of tenderness and vulnerability one second, swallowing the way he casually brushes you off another. Surely there must be something wrong with you. Especially because, when it comes down to it, you don’t really care as much as you think you should .

“How’d it go?” You’d had to debride some areas from Mr. Schwartz’s diabetic foot this morning – super fun for the both of you . The foot was famous in Jackson. A great source of shrieks and giggles when the old man decided to pull it out in front of the kids as his so-called ‘party trick’. We all gotta bring something fun to the table, honey, he’d tell you when you tried to put on your false tone of admonishment with him.

“Long – I had to take more than I’d initially thought I’d need to.”

“He alright?”

“Resting now… Just means it’ll be harder for him later on – take longer to recover, as best he can, in any case. And ideally, what he really needs is a boot – which we have – one… but it’s not in great condition. I don’t even know if it’ll fit him – or a wheelchair, and both of them are being used right now. So, seems my only other option is to order him into bed until I can figure something else out. And of course Connie’s all, this is on you, honey. I trust your judgment, honey. ” You deepen your tone and scrunch your brow trying to inflect Connie’s baritone. “As if that’s helpful.”

He grips your chin, forcing you to take a breath, brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, and your eyes flutter shut, pressing a tiny kiss to the pad of his thumb. He hums a little, and you catch the flare of heat in his eyes. “You’ll worry yourself half to death, little bird. Take a breath.” You huff a small laugh. He was right about that, worry was heavy on your mind recently. About lots of different things.

“I fixed you a plate,” you divert.

“You didn’t have to do that, sweetheart. Thank you.” He swings his long leg over the bench to sit astride it, legs open to pull you between his thighs.

“S’alright. I was getting Connie’s anyway.” He digs in, and you card your fingers through his thick hair – overly long now, it brushes the collar of his shirt in the back, you’ll need to cut it for him soon – and watch the thick column of his throat ripple as he swallows. You press your thighs together – the sun is so strong today. You think it might be making you a little delirious.

“You’re not eating.” It isn’t a question, posed more like an admonishment, paired with the severe crook of his brow.

“Nah, I’m alright. Can’t have anything just yet after staring at that foot all morning,” you joke.

“You telling me you’re not as entertained by it as the kids are?”

You roll your eyes at him. “Shocking, I know.”

He turns to give you an assessing glance now, “You sure you’re alright?”

“Just tired.” You lay your head in the cool, dark crook of his neck, breathe him in. “Birdie …” voice laced with concern – he tries to gently tug you back by your ponytail, but you burrow in further – press your lips to the pulsing vein in his neck. “I’m fine, Joel. Just tired, really.” He huffs. Grouchy man.

“Hi, honey,” Connie shuffles up to the table. “Joel–” he nods, “You two alright ? That go a long time with Mr. Shwartz?” he asks.

You’re grateful for the distraction from Joel’s fifth degree. “It was fine. Our handy dandy Bovie is so good.” You’d done your best recently to fashion an electrocautery device, like the ones they’d used before in surgery. The two of you had gathered the different parts over time and much voracious scavenging, to put the system together. “You’ve gotta try it next. We should be real proud of that.”

“You should be proud. You’ve got a nice mechanical mind in you, as well. You know, Joel, the body is just a machine of flesh and blood.” Connie turns his blue eyes, gone slightly milky now, on Joel, ready to impart his slice of wisdom – part lecture, part proud tirade for your benefit, as the younger man continues to work through his plate of barbecue. “She looks at the two the same way; it’s very impressive.”

Joel finishes chewing: “Our girl is nothin’ if not impressive,” he says, giving you an impish little smirk. You pinch the inside of his thigh over the thick denim, not imparting nearly enough punishment as you’d like to.

“Shut up,” you grouch at him. “Anyways, the lines were pretty sharp, the cauterization clean. A bit slow, though. I felt a bit held back – but not too bad, considering.”

“Considering…” Connie muses. He starts to eat as well, and the sight of the slick, sauce covered meat is slightly revolting. The sun is way too hot with the change of season into fall just on the cusp, and after staring at poor Mr. Schwartz’s mangled foot all day… “I’m thinking with a little more juice it’ll be perfect. We just have to find a way to feed it more power without frying the whole system.”

“Yes… it’s delicate,” he says slowly.”You should ask Noah for advice.” Joel is silent beside you, but you feel the tensing of his thigh beneath your palm at the mention of Noah’s name. “He’s always been very keen to help us in any way we need.”

“Oh, has he?” Joel drawls, in that monotone he loves to use when cutting people down. He can’t fucking stand Noah; it’s quite funny to you, actually. You nudge his knee with your own, still cradled between his spread legs, and drag your nails slowly up and down his thigh, only responding with a non-committal hum. He shifts his jaw in that way he’s wont to do when he’s especially aggravated, cocks his eyebrow at you. You give him a tiny little mocking tilt of your head. You’re sure he can see the laughter at his expense in your eyes.

“Yes,” Connie continues, completely oblivious to the silent conversation going on between the two of you, “He’s very adept at anything electrical or mechanical. Although, you are, as well, Joel. Perhaps you could advise us too. Any help would be greatly appreciated.”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I can take a look. Offer what I can.”

You change the subject: “Teddy’s been in again this week.” One of the single mother’s in Jackson, Susanna’s son, Teddy, had been continuously ill the past few months. Coming down with different, seemingly unrelated afflictions on and off. His mother was beside herself with worry, and you and Connie were reaching your limits on what you could do to help him. Much less actually provide a clear answer as to a diagnosis.

“Yes, I spoke to his mother last night. Some sort of ague again, undoubtedly.”

You roll your eyes at him affectionately. Connie loved to condemn undiagnosable patients with ‘the ague’. “Connie, the ague is absolutely not a valid form of diagnosis,” you laugh. That launches him into a tirade about the conundrum the boys posed to the both of you these past few weeks. And ague is a perfectly valid explanation, honey. Neither of you are certain what’s causing his bouts of illness. Though you’re reluctantly leaning towards something that won’t pose anything good for any of you; you’re trying to remain optimistic, but the uncertainty is taking a toll on the both of you, as well as his mother.

As Connie goes on, there’s a hazy buzz rumbling around in your brain. Your temples throb, and you press the tender spot into the hard mass of Joel’s shoulder. He’s finished eating now, and you nuzzle into him, breathe in the warm scent of his skin and sweat, grip the hard swell of his bicep – the thick muscle has the most inappropriate arousal pooling low in your belly, but your stomach churns at the same time, and the sun is so damn bright. Too many opposing sensations going on within you all at once, you’re sure you’re on the verge of sun poisoning – dramatic – and it’s making you needy. Infecting you with ideas of crawling into his lap and having him cradle you. He stiffens beneath your attentions suddenly. The soothing large palm he’d been dragging up and down your spine goes still, pausing with his fingertips tucked just below the waistband of your jeans – as if he’s just now realizing how openly affectionate the two of you are being – his muscles go rigid at your display, and then that’s it. He’s pulling away.

Your gut twists again, your head is really spinning now – you straighten in your seat, scoot back and out of the cradle of his thighs, as far as the bench allows you. Always fucking pulling away. He’s stiff and uncomfortable, but at your retreat he clicks his tongue at you, frowns a little, and you want to snap at his subtle admonishment – you started it, what are you frowning at me for?

Connie is still going on about Teddy. “You sure you’re alright, dear?” he interrupts himself. “You look a bit peaky.”

“I’m fine.” You stand abruptly, “I’ve got to head back, actually.” Joel turns to reach for you, but you step back and away from his fingers. The heat is definitely making you grouchy, sick; you’re not acting yourself. “I promised Mr. Schwartz I’d be back to check on him within the hour.” You don’t want to look at Joel anymore – you’re used to his sudden bouts of tension – discomfort – but something is setting you on edge today.

“You should eat something before you go, honey,” Connie says – looking up at you with concern.

“I had something before I came. I’m okay.” You turn to look at Joel now, as the lie passes your lips, a provocation held in your eyes and tone.

He frowns, “You said –”

“I’ll see you two later.”

“Birdie –” But you’ve turned from him before he can continue, walking away quickly. Your head is spinning, gut cramping and turning over on itself. The sun feels like it’s two feet away from you, bearing down on the crown of your head, and you know you’re about to be sick. Always fucking pulling away, always. It embarrasses you a little that you still chafe at it, the back of your eyes pinching and saliva pooling heavy on your tongue. You know the way he is.

You make it back to the clinic just in time to vomit behind the bushes on the side of the house.

Jesus.

Susanna brings Teddy into the clinic late in the evening. You’ve just finished writing up your operative note for the ‘famous foot’ (Mr. Schwartz’s words, not yours) when she flies in, frantic, with the listless child in her arms. She tells you he’d been lethargic and without an appetite all day, but she’d chalked it up to fatigue and melancholy from being ill and bedridden so often, recently. His fever had crept up out of nowhere, and now Teddy was almost unconscious, burning hot and delirious – words slurring, eyes glassy.

It’d been hours since then. Teddy was now resting quietly with cool compresses and ice bags tucked under his arms and against his neck which seemed to be helping. Susanna had retired to the back of the house to rest for a bit, and you now sat between Mr. Schwartz and the boy, quietly reading over a text both you and Connie had already gone over multiple times – hoping to find anything that’d inspire an explanation. Most concerningly of all, you’d noticed a smattering of purple-yellowish, sickly looking bruises along Teddy’s spine. It pushed you in the direction your mind had previously taken concerning what could potentially be the cause of all of this. And even though it was the first you’d seen of any bruising on him, it didn’t reassure you at all.

“Joel’s here,” Nancy, the nurse that worked with you and Connie, says quietly from the doorway. You stand from your bedside vigil, sighing. It’s late, and you don’t want to do this now. A little embarrassed from your earlier fit. A lot tired from the long day and throwing up and the heat.

“Can you come out and get me in two minutes, please? Interrupt us.”

She gives you an assessing look. “Sure.”

You walk out to the office to find him leaning against your cluttered desk, bulging arms crossed against his chest, straining the sleeves of his button down. There’s a far off look in his eyes, scowl marring his brow, but when he looks up at you all the tightness in his countenance seems to melt away at the sight of you. “You alright?” His gaze is assessing – sweeping up and down your frame, taking everything in like always. The man sees entirely too much.

“I’m fine. I need to stay here tonight, though.” You jerk your thumb back towards the exam room. “They need me.”

“You said you were tired.”

“It passed – just the sun.” He looks at you like he doesn’t really believe you.

“About earlier—”

“It’s fine, Joel.” You feel too tired, too strung out, to give him an out by pretending to ignore that he’d hurt you, pissed you off. Let it be what it was – you had a sick child to care for – couldn’t think about all the distance that would seemingly exist forever between the two of you, not right now, at least.

“You lied about eating.”

Oh, now he wanted to be fucking honest. You roll your eyes at him, watch his jaw clench. “What?” Tone bratty and antagonistic, “No I didn’t – you misunderstood.”

“You told me you didn’t want to eat, and then you told Connie, not fifteen minutes later, that you’d already eaten.”

“Well then I misspoke – that’s not what I meant.” You turn away from him towards the desk, busy your hands with the papers littered across its surface to avoid his eyes. You feel like fighting – like baring your teeth at him, and you hate it. You don’t want to fight with him, ever. You want, need, things to be okay between the two of you. “Why are we arguing about this? I have to get back.” The bite in your voice startles you for a second, and your hands pause their shuffling. Turning back to face him, wide eyed and shocked at the way you practically spit the words at him, but, fuck it, you decide to just go with it.

He doesn’t let you, though – doesn’t take your bait. You watch the muscle in his jaw feather rapidly as he grinds his teeth, fists curled into knots at his sides like he’s trying to restrain himself from throttling you – and you think you’d kind of like him to do it. You’ve gotta be PMSing or something because where is all this sudden desire for violence coming from? You definitely need to sleep soon.

He exhales a slow breath through his nose. “Not try’na argue, baby… just figure out what’s wrong.” Your heart twists painfully, the back of your eyes pinching and hot, and you will not cry right now. His words make you even more angry because if he cares so much about such seemingly small things like this, why can’t he just let everything else fall into place between you as well?

Nancy pops her head through the open door, calling your name, “Need you when you’ve got a second.”

“Be right there, Nance.” You throw her a grateful look.

Turning back to Joel you rub your forehead, trying to press the ache that’s taking root in your brain out with your fingertips. “Nothing… nothing’s wrong. I’m just…” you sigh, suddenly very sad, very tired. You take in his weathered face, his brow pulled down into a scowl anyone who knew him less would take for anger, but you see it for what it is: concern, discomfort, frustration at the tension that’s held constant between the two of you all day. The both of you pulling away and then yanking each other back. You can see he wants to move past this, avoid whatever fight is brewing – too much for him to handle. You know he hates it when you’re angry and annoyed with him, and doesn’t that have to mean something? Please, please it must mean something more. But you’re too tired for this now, your body overwrought from its brief bout of sickness earlier, from your long day. You’d like to go to bed with him and not wake up for a year. Lay on his chest and feel the movement of his breathing rock you to sleep, count the spaces between his ribs, make a home for yourself within them. A great jealousy for his heart, the organ itself, writhes in you, that it gets to live inside him. You’re feeling melancholy and exhausted and overly emotional . Sad that even when he’s the source of your turmoil, your hurt, he’s still the only one you want to go to for comfort. You clear your throat, “I’m fine, Joel. Really.” You try and give him a small smile. “I was in a mood earlier, but I’m okay now.”

“I need us to be okay, Birdie. I– I know…” he looks away, hisses through his teeth in frustration. “I know I don’t always act like it, but–”

You hold up a hand to stop him. You don’t want to, can’t, listen to him try and make excuses. Explain to you things you’ve always understood about what this thing is between the two of you. “We don’t need to do this. I promise everything’s fine. I need to get back.” You step forward to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, to appease the both of you, but also if only because you can’t help but touch him when he’s near, hands snaking up his belly and chest to fist in the collar of his shirt. He hums low in his throat and grips the back of your neck, other hand low on your back to press you to him, and everything inside you goes liquid hot and wanting, just at the feel of him, the scent of him.

“Try and rest.” He breathes you in at the crown of your head, and you nod against his chest.

“I will. Don’t worry.” But you know he’ll do that anyways, and that alone is a comfort.

Connie meanders in about midnight, nocturnal creature that he is, to check on you all. You’d pulled the armchair from the office into the corner of the infirmary while you read in the corner. An all night vigil wasn’t exactly necessary – Teddy’s fever had broken about an hour ago, his vitals were stable, and Mr. Schwartz had been snoring the night away for hours. Nancy lived on the second floor of the house, and was always near and available if necessary, but you were peaceful here. Tucked away in your corner with your book and a throw draped over your folded knees. The anxiety you’d carried heavy in your belly all day had dissipated. Thoughts of Joel settled now, compared to the frenzied hysterical swarm they’d been all day. Sometimes this need for him scared you. That your mood, your physical self, could so easily be altered by him, by his own mood, his words, his touch. The tether he held you by was so strong, it felt unbreakable, permanent. It scared you to think what would become of you if one day he decided to break it.

Connie passes a hand over the boy’s forehead, murmuring to himself as he examines him, pops his stethoscope in to take a listen. His movements are slow and practiced, methodical. You’d always loved watching him work. You’ve passed so far into the realms of exhaustion, you’re a little delirious now, your mind and vision hazy, and you rest your head against the wingback and watch. “He’s settled now. Vitals are steady.” You hum in agreement.

He turns to look at you then, his gaze contemplative as he takes a seat on the bench along the end of the bed directly in front of you. His tired groan makes you smile a little, old man. The fondness for him squeezes your heart. He has something to say, you can tell. “I know your father was an exacting man,” he starts. You nod, still quiet. You know that now is a time for listening. “I think of him often. I know I never met him, but he wanders into my mind quite frequently. I think of the things you’ve told me about him, about your mother and sister–” When you’d first become close, it’d been hard for you to speak of your family, of Beth and her death, but eventually you’d forced yourself to. For no other reason than that the thought of you being the only person left in the world that remembered their names, that knew their stories, wrought a grief in you so profound, it was impossible to keep it all inside. You were scared if you didn’t share, if you carried all that alone, you’d lose yourself in their memories forever. “I think that after all that, after living their deaths in such a gruesome way, it could have been very easy for you to lose yourself in all that. Do you agree?” Another small tilt of your chin. The precision with which he’d always read you, understood you, was the greatest comfort in the world. That sometimes it wasn’t even necessary to tell him out loud what it was you were feeling or needed for him to pick up on it.

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” you finally say.

“No…” his eyes take on the thoughtful look he gets, the one that makes you wish you could read his mind sometimes, read the wonderings of that brilliant mind like one of your textbooks. “Instead, you became a splendid and thoughtful physician. A seemingly impossible thing, no? Now, with the state of the world for you to have pieced together a vocation such as this…” his milky blue eyes glint with humor, pride, “Well, it’s all very impressive, my dear.”

“Thank you,” you acknowledge.

“And even more impressive, considering the fact, that had you been given a choice in the matter, you would never have chosen this for yourself… had the world been different, normal.” And there it is again, that keen sense of knowing.

“Yes.” There is nothing more to say. It is, after all, your most painful, most honest, most shameful truth. Painful, not in the sense that you carried any regret now, when you cared for your patients, when you put the knowledge your father and Connie had given you into practice. But painful in the sense that it chafed at your skin, that desire for other . That small seed that had the great potential of growth within you, to spread like ivy around a house, and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, until all you were left with were thoughts of what could have been.

“But like I said… your father was an exacting man, and this is what he chose for you. And then, perhaps, even I played a part in that same theft of choice from you.” You try to interrupt him then, to vehemently deny it, but he continues unheeded. “You got here and you seemed to be a sort of benediction to me. A vessel for all the knowledge I could impart on you. A shepherd I could leave this flock to.” He slips his glasses off the bridge of his nose and wipes them slowly with the hem of his sweater. “I know you’ll take good care of them when I’m no longer here. That they could not have ended up in better, more caring hands.” You hate when he talks about his dying, fills you with a premonitory dread you don’t know how you’ll cope with when it becomes actuality. “But alas, you did what was set upon you, took it all in stride.” He pauses, as if contemplating what he’s about to say next, and you know the point of all this has arrived. You even know where it is he’s going with this.

“I say all this, my dear, not to dredge up old painful memories, or reminders of what could have been… But because I would not like to see your choices taken from you once again.” And there it is. He levels his gaze at you, quiet for several moments, and it’s like he is here in the room with you now, his presence, his unsaid name heavy and poignant.

“Joel’s a good man, honey, but he’s a hurt man. Hurt in a way I don’t think even you could cure.”

Your instinct to defend him is immediate. “He’s not— he’s not a hurt man.” You shake your head, brow furrowed, “He’s been hurt before, but it doesn’t define him, Connie. It’s not the sole contributor to who he is.” And that’s true, you know it is. Believe it to your very core. You, who knows Joel better than few others, you know the pains of his past don’t define him. Perhaps before, they did. A pain so acute it molded him into a creature focused only on survival, or perhaps, he let it get the better of him at times. But he is so much more than all that. Has the strength and the will to set it aside when he so chooses to. Ellie being the perfect example of that.

Choices, choices, those were the things that defined a person.

“Isn’t it? You can’t live off the potential you see in someone forever.”

“I hate it when you say that.” You sit up, let your feet drop to the floor, and lean forward to stress your point. “What are we all, if not vessels of untapped potential? We’re all just walking around with the possibility of something more inside of us. Of course, of course I value the potential I see in him! I know he has the possibility of so, so much inside of him – that’s what makes me… That’s why I –” You cut yourself off before you can make that confession, a choked sound leaving your throat. You look out the nearby window at the dark street, press your thumb hard into the center of your forehead, will the tension and frustration out of the skin and bone.

“I know… I know,” he says gently, offering you his hands, palms up – a sign of concession. “But it’s not enough to hang all your hopes and dreams on just that. I want more for you than just that . I want you to have choices. To be able to have what you truly want, what you truly need. I would not like to know that something unfulfilling has been forced upon you once again by the circumstances of this world.” And he says it so sadly, with a look of such tenderness in his eyes, it makes embarrassment burn hot and red in your cheeks. The back of your eyes pinch. What must they all think of me when they see us together? The part that perhaps does, or should, make you the most embarrassed, is that you don’t really care at all. Not in any substantial way that would make a real difference, make you act differently. “I’m not unfulfilled, Connie. I love what we do here,” you say softly.

“I know that, I know. But still…I just–”

You rest your aching head in your cupped palms, bent elbows propped on your knees. You’re so fucking tired. “Connie, please, I know…” you whisper. “Just, please, no more tonight… I’m exhausted. You can tell me all this another time – tomorrow. Just no more tonight.”

“Alright, alright, dear. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to give you grief.” He stands, comes towards you to rest a gentle palm on your shoulder.

“I know… and you’re not… It’s me.”

“I only want good things for you, darling girl.” You press your hand over his on your shoulder, give a short nod.

“Go home – you need rest. Nancy will stay with them.”

“I can sit for a few more hours. Teddy likes to know I’m here.”

“No, no,” his voice takes on that stern fatherly tone he likes to whip you into shape with sometimes. “Enough for tonight. They’ll both be fine. You’ll see them tomorrow.”

You scrunch your nose at him, “Bossy.” But you stand to go, draping the blanket over the back of the chair. He pulls you in for a hug then, envelops you in the comfort and steadiness he’s always offered you, from the very start. He always smells faintly of peppermint and mothballs and old paper. “It’ll all work itself out, my dear. You’ll find a way. You always do. I’m not worried about that.”

Joel watches you leave the clinic from his spot in the shadows across the road. He’s been posted here, obstinate and pissed off with himself, for hours. Especially because he’s certain this must be a new low for him, sulking in the dark, watching for you like a creep. But he just wanted to be close to you. He knows you lied to put him off earlier. Your conversation had left him unsatisfied, restless. He knows you’re pulling away because he’s pulling away. Because he’s putting you off, and he tells himself he’ll give you space, tells himself that’s what’s best, but knows it’s a lie as he thinks it.

The thing is, despite his obstinance, Joel was not a man who lacked self awareness. He was, in fact, very good at recognizing a thing within himself, and yet still able to make a conscious decision to feign ignorance towards it to the outside world. This set up worked well for him – sometimes … on occasion… But this was different, and he knew it. Feigning ignorance would not work between the two of you for much longer. You were getting tired and sad and frustrated with him and he could see it and hated himself for being the cause of it. And if he was being honest with himself, which in this moment, he was trying to be, he was getting tired of it too, tired of himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in this position with a woman. On the verge of … something. Something he couldn’t confess, even to himself, yet. But to allow himself that, to allow himself the simple act of even admitting what he knew was the truth of his feelings for you – there was a part of him, a very broken part that had not been used in a long, long time, that couldn’t even imagine it. To allow himself that sort of vulnerability. To allow himself the truth of there existing another person in this world, in what this world had become, a partner – a woman he cared for, needed . It was too vulnerable, too precious a thing to allow himself. Perhaps before, perhaps in a world not overrun by death and disease and violence – by loss.

But what did that even look like anymore? A world bereft of monstrousness? Wiped clean of the beasts that had overtaken it, human or infected. Could Joel even remember such a thing – even imagine it, if only in his dreams? He couldn’t even discern which of the two was worse anymore. Part of him knew it didn’t really matter. Not in the end. It was all conjecture when it came down to losing your life – losing the person you loved. Whether it was fungus or a bullet – dead was dead.

Sometimes he didn't even feel like a person anymore. Just this thing that existed at the periphery of the world. In the moments when he pushed you away, when he turned from the loving look in your face, forced himself to brush off your words and your affection, to hold you at arms length – to protect the vulnerable, scarred mass of his heart – those were the moments in which he was most like a creature, least like a man.

He thought of a world where he felt safe enough to go to the woman he loved, his Birdie, hold you in his arms and say: here is everything I have for you, I’m begging you, please take it .

Such a world didn’t exist in Joel’s mind. Couldn’t fit. He’d been stripped of the ability. To have something so vulnerable and new. A type of fragile he’d not held since his twelve year old daughter lay bleeding and broken in his arms, and have the ability to say I am strong enough to endure the possible loss of this. I need you this badly. So badly I am willing to risk even my own heart.

It looked like trying to swallow the sea.

He follows you home in the darkness.

“You get that fixed alright?” Joel’s voice barks from the mouth of the garage. You startle, your knee slamming into the underside of the workbench. Deciding to follow through on Connie’s suggestion from yesterday, you’d come to see Noah, knocking on his door bright and early this morning, Bovie clutched in your hands. He’d been more than happy to give it a look for you. The two of you had been sitting here for about an hour now, and in that time you’d seen Joel’s form stalk by at least three times, from out of the corner of your eye. Absurd man that he was, you knew he’d been psyching himself up to barge in here and interrupt the two of you. Seemed he’d brought his attitude with him.

“Jesus, man–” Noah’s hand grips your smarting knee, rubbing it gently, “We didn’t hear you come up.” Joel’s left eye twitches at the we, his gaze zeroed in on the hand on your knee, his teeth bared in the perpetuation of a ridiculous growl as he takes a threatening step forward. You lift your brows at him – all your fire and fight from yesterday put to rest now after some much needed sleep. He cocks his brow back at you, shifts his jaw side to side in annoyance.

“Absorbed in your work?” he drawls sardonically.

“We’ve made some good progress actually! Come see,” Noah says, completely missing Joel’s mocking tone, the poor thing. He gives your knee another gentle pat, and you think you might just see steam come out of Joel’s ears. He steps up behind you, chest pressed close to your back and passes a hand over your hair, presses a kiss to the crown of your head. This fucking guy. Now he feels like getting handsy. You scrunch your nose at him, turning back to face Noah and the Bovie, your shoulder pressing into Joel’s belly. Noah takes in your positions, the possessive hand now curled around your neck – looks back down at the knee he’d just grabbed and then back to Joel’s broad intimidating form and scowling face. You see a slow swallow move through his throat. As he starts to explain the changes the two of you had made to the electrocautery generator, you consider the differences between the two of them. The contrast is stark. Noah isn’t small by any means, average height, a nice build – but there’s something about Joel. Some sort of warning in the air around him, in the space he takes up in a room, that makes him larger than life – something that says don’t fuck with me or mine. Heat pools low in your belly and you press your thighs together tightly. Fucked up, you’re fucked up – you try to brush his hand off your neck – suddenly feeling overwhelmed, your skin overly sensitized. “Quit –” he says low in your ear and you almost whimper. He’s jealous, and it’s turning you on. There’s definitely something wrong with you.

You try to shake him off again,“ Let go.”

“No.” His voice is steel. Noah is heedlessly going on about the Bovie, about how it only took a slight rewiring from the generator into the hand-piece without overwhelming the system; giving it the little bump of power it was missing. Joel’s thumb brushes a slow, warning path up and down your neck. Down, down, to the top notch of your vertebrae, slowly kneading the fine muscles surrounding the prominence of your bone and then up and pushing into the base of your skull. His hands are warm and dry – the rough calluses abrading your sensitive skin. You feel the flush in your cheeks traveling down over your chest, the tips of your breasts tightening to painful points. You see Joel’s eyes flicker down, taking you in, and he gives a contemplative hum low in his throat.

“I’m so glad you let me help,” Noah says with a warm smile. He’s sweet and so genuine and as you take him in, how completely unaware he is of the silent struggle going on between you and Joel right in front of him, you’re struck by how easy loving a man like that would be. And how unfulfilling for a woman like you. What is it about some people, that they can’t appreciate a good thing unless it hurts a little?

“Connie and I are real grateful that you could help. You let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.” Joel gives him a short nod as you leave.

And then, soft and threatening into the shell of your ear as the two of you walk away from the nice, sweet, uncomplicated boy: we’re goin’ home, and I’m gonna lick that cunt until you’re cryin’, little bird.

Your steps speed up, trying to outrun the clutch of his hands on your skin, trying to escape – even if just a little.

You never stood a chance of that.

He follows, menacingly on your heels, as you dart into your house. A rabbit trying to outrun the big bad wolf. You make for the stairs and you feel the tips of his fingers ghost lightly in the ends of your long hair, one foot on the first step, but then his finger is catching in your belt loop, yanking you hard into his chest. Your back thumps against him with a small oof and then his hands are skating along your curves, big palms squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples through the cotton of your t-shirt..

“Bad Birdie, try’na run from me.” He nuzzles, gentle, gentle into the nape of your neck, the line of your hair, presses his mouth to the top notch of your spine. You feel his hot, wet tongue slide over the jut of your vertebrae, small peppered kisses to your nape and your entire body flushes hot – arousal pulling low and tight in your belly. Your clit throbs in time with his panting breath in your ear. His soft mouth is totally at odds with the tension he’s holding himself with right now, the harsh way he presses his fingers into the skin of your hips.

You can feel the thick length of him pressing into your ass; he’s hard as stone and throbbing – turned on by the chase. You moan, deep and wanton, slick pooling in your panties, ready for him now , just at the feel of his hands on you. “You want it, baby?”

“Y– yes,” you stutter, pressing yourself harder into him.

“Want me to fuck that needy little cunt?”

His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his chest and into your back, down, down your body all the way to the tips of your toes. “Please, Joel,” you whimper. You try to turn in his arms, but he clicks his tongue at you, wrapping his arms more tightly around your waist, half dragging, half carrying you up the stairs to your bedroom.

“I always give my Birdie what she needs, don’t I?”

“Settle now. Stay still so I can eat you how I like.” He hitches his hands higher up the backs of your thighs, beneath your knees – spreads you further apart, up and back to press into your breasts, making more space for the broad valley of his naked shoulders. He’d gotten you naked and into bed, quick as a viper. His desperation, evident in the wild look in his eyes. He was unsettled, either by the tension between the two of you yesterday or you around another man, but he was trying to prove some unspoken point to the two of you in the ferocity of his grip on your skin.

He settles his face deep into your sex now and eats. “Who’s all this wet for, huh? Were you thinkin’ about me while that boy tried to get in your good graces?”

“It’s too much. Please, please, please,” you sob. Tears making a slow, steady journey back into your hairline, dripping into your ears. You yank hard on his hair, try to direct his movements. You can’t tell if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer.

“Want me to stop?” He laps at your clit.

“I– I dont– I don’t know–” It felt like he’d been at this for hours. “I–”

“It’s okay.” Soft, whispered kisses to the puffy lips of your sex, your slippery inner thighs. You’re so wet, and you’d have burns from his beard and bruises from his teeth tomorrow. “I know, I know you’re just a little bird,” his teeth sharp and mean to the softest part of you, then the broad flat of his tongue to soothe – a sharp, quick suck to your swollen clit. His volley between rough and tender on your vulnerable sex setting you further on edge than anything else he was doing. “But you can take it for me.You can be so, so good for me. My good girl.”

Your cunt pulls tight – throbs like a wound. Hurts in a way you’re desperate for. You love him, you love him, you love him. Goddamn the things he does to you, makes you feel. You need him so much and he gives it all to you exactly in the way that’s the most perfect, just for you. You feel fucking delirious, on the brink of insanity.

He pushes two thick fingers into you, cunt spasming and clinging. He scissors the digits inside of you, stretches your hole. The squelch is lewd and obscene and messy. You can feel your cheeks burning red and hot, and you throw an arm over your eyes as you feel your slick leak down between your ass to pool on the sheets beneath you – hiding yourself from your own obscenity.

“Pussy s’fuckin’ good, baby. Tastes like candy.” He pulls out his fingers, slaps your cunt, twice, quick and sharp. The sound you let out shames you, high pitched and whining. “Fuckin’ red ‘nd gaping for me. God, Birdie –” he moans so deep it makes your heart race, brings his mouth back to you – licks a broad stripe from hole to clit with the flat of his tongue. His mouth latches to the aching swollen bud and sucks. “You need me so much dont you? Fuckin’ come in my mouth – wanna taste it.” And he’s right, he’s right, you do, you need him so much. In that instant, you feel so grateful that he knows it.

Your back arches, everything liquid within you pooling low in your pelvis, pulling tight, and it feels like the world is about to end around you; a catastrophe even greater than anything the cordyceps could have ever wrought. This is what he brings out of you with his mouth and his fingers and his words, and you gush onto his face. He almost fucking whines at the splash of your orgasm on his tongue – slurping down everything you have to give him, you feel your wetness cover his face and beard. This is what you give to each other.

He gentles his fingers and tongue. Letting your orgasm coast along into echoes and throbs. You try to push him away with your foot on the thick mass of his shoulder, on the brink of overstimulation, but quick as a viper, he circles his entire large palm around the fine bones of your ankle and squeezes. Quit – presses a tiny kiss to the protrusion of your bone there.

“ Mine,” he growls. “Mine, no one touches you but me–” His hands open you wider for him, fileting you for his eyes only. You feel hot and flush, your skin tight, to the point of bursting, like an overripe plum in the sun. Skin fragile and thin, insides viscous, ready to spill your flesh for him, blood burning hot as it churns in your veins. “Not fuckin’ done yet, Birdie. Not done with this perfect pussy.” Tears make a slow path down your temples, your fingers tangled in his hair, wanting to hurt– just a little. Like the delicious hurt of holding him within yourself. The way it feels like an old aching bruise inside of you when he stuffs you full of his cock. And then he’s up, up, up – quick as a whip – his fingers shoving into the tangle of your hair at the nape of your neck, captured in a tight fist like prey in a snare, and he’s shoving your own taste deep into you with his tongue. The kiss, open and savage – he’s fucking your mouth like he was just fucking your pussy. Your heart pushes against the bones of your chest, and you desperately clutch at his shoulders for some sort of countenance. He unmoors you . You have been unmoored by this man. And you want – need – more.

He kneels between your open legs, thick thighs anchoring you wider and fists his cock, the head gleaming and painfully red. He pulls your thighs over his own thicker ones, and presses the fat tip hard to your sensitive clit, making you jolt and whimper pathetically. “Cock drunk, that’s what you are.” All you can do is nod dumbly, eyes glassy and wet. His voice is so deep. He drags the head down to your entrance, presses just a little, only the fat tip held inside you. He fucks you short and shallow like that, his hips moving in tiny, slow jerks.

“Please,” you sigh, your eyes fluttering shut at the subtle pressure, at the promise of what’s about to come, “Please, Joel.”

“Please what? Please what?” he mocks, just a little mean, and then he’s surging inside in one brutal thrust. Fucking into you without warning and he’s huge — almost too much to take, even after your orgasms. “Fucking tight,” he grits out. He hoists you up, arms wrapped around your waist and starts fucking up and into you, hard. Not giving you a moment to adjust. Letting go of the restraint he’d held while he ate you out. Cock battering into something deep and sensitive inside you, all you can do is take it. Let him have you as he pleases.

He can feel your slick pooling at the base of his cock and sliding down his balls. He wraps his hand around the fine bones of your jaw, “Who’s pussy is this?” he growls over the wet slap, “Wanna hear it out loud.”

Yours, yours, yours.

Your face is flushed and sweaty, cheeks red as an apple, eyes glazed, dark, wet lashes clumped together. The fucked out look in your eyes doing more for him than anything else. This is what he does to you, only him . He picks up the pace of his hips, fucks you harder, harder and your tits bounce against his chest. He slaps one of them gently, appreciating the soft jiggle it gives, the small gasp you let out. His other hand snakes low on your tummy and presses down into your pelvis so he can feel the battering of his cock inside of your cunt and shit he’s gonna come soon. Gonna come with his hand feeling himself fuck you from the outside. “Too much, too much, Joel ,” you whine. “Oh god, I– I’m gonna–” You’re soaked, sweat and slick sliding between your two bodies, and clutching him hot and tight as a fist. He can’t get deep enough, can’t give it to you hard enough. He never wants to stop, will never be able to stop.

“You’re taking my cock so good, so fucking good. Jesus fuck, I can’t, I can’t–” He slates his mouth over your open panting one, licks into the sweet, red gleam of you. Your arms wrap around his neck, and he drags his teeth along your full bottom lip, lets it go with a little wet pop. You moan, head falling back on your neck, beyond words. He bends his head, hand wrapped around the fullness of your tit to bring it to his mouth, bites gently down on the tight, aching bud, laves his tongue around it and sucks it into his mouth. Then he’s pushing you back, letting you fall and bounce onto the mattress, legs splayed. When he pulls out abruptly you whimper – he can’t let himself come yet, not yet, just a little more – and he leaves a hot trail of open mouth kisses down your neck, over your shoulder, sucking the peak of your breast into his mouth again, over the swell of your belly, until he’s between your thighs again and bends his head to devour your slick. His tongue licking deep inside where his cock just was. He’s frantic. There’s no reason to the sense of urgency he feels, the urgency he’s taking you with right now. It’s something subconscious – something primal telling him to mark you, lay his claim.

He can’t stop taking and taking, always taking.

He pulls up again from between your legs, the abruptness of his movements confusing you, leaving you to deliriously allow him to do with you what he will. “Taste us,” he says as he licks into your mouth, fucking his aching cock back into your spent cunt, so fucking tight always. “One more, baby. Gimme one more, lemme feel you milk me.” And like his own personal little marionette on a string, you do. Pussy fluttering and then pulling tight, a little furl of a knot, squeezing his own orgasm out of him. He feels his balls pull up tight and he’s painting you inside, teeth latched tightly to the delicate muscle that connects your neck and shoulder. The sound from your throat is high and keening, supplicant. He licks the hurt he’s just left. Grinds his spitting cock deep, right into the mouth of your womb.

Mine, mine, fucking mine. It is a mantra of reassurance for the both of you.

He cradles you in his embrace afterwards, his body wrapped around you as if he were a vine grown from your very heart. He sighs, the sound deep from his chest, and you want to tell yourself you can hear a yearning desperate enough to match your own in the cadence of it. His head drops to your shoulder, nuzzles the vulnerable space beneath your jaw, now riddled with his bites and bruises. You know you’ll enjoy inspecting them in the mirror tomorrow, feeling the warm pull of your belly at the reminder. And the moment is so achingly tender, even more intimate in a way, than your sex. The feel of him surrounding you, soft and quiet. Your eyes feel hot, pinching threateningly.

“I have to go,” he murmurs, spent cock still buried inside of you. He presses kisses to your hair, your lips, over your closed eyelids. He can’t stop, God, he’s tried – is trying – but he can’t go, can’t part from you. Fighting is so fucking hard when you’ve got no will behind it. When what you’re trying to fight against is the thing you’ve wanted more than anything else in your whole life, and the only thing standing in your way is yourself, your own inadequacy. Perhaps he could endure the agony, the filth of life, the loss, the loss, the loss, with you held in his arms like this.

His patrol shift started almost an hour ago. The guys were going to ream the hell out of him, he’d been here with you for hours, and still, still he couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull himself away. His lack of will, lack of restraint, of self control – his body and heart’s inability to do what his mind told him to, makes him so angry. At himself, and maybe – not at you, never you – but perhaps, at what you represented. All he wanted but couldn’t let himself have in full. He needed to go. He had responsibilities. He had truths to confess to himself.

He was in love with you. He was. He was.

Joel was an obstinate man, but he did not lack self awareness. Now was the moment for this truth, if only confessed to himself. So, angry, and in love with you, and tremendously sorry, he turns away. Pulls out of your tight wet clutch with a wince, your breathy gasp making his cock twitch slightly, even so soon after he’s just come. You roll over, burrow into the pillows, and he grips the swell of your ass, pulls you apart to feast on the sight of his come leaking out of you. Obscene. Wet and messy and swollen, marked by his spend. He wants to bend for a taste but knows if he does, he won’t stop, will be likely to start all over again. “I gotta go, Birdie. M’already late.” He bends to nip a gentle bite to your ass cheek, one small last taste, then the press of a kiss. He hopes you can feel all he cannot say with that touch. The soft sound of acquiescence you hum as you burrow further into the sheets has his teeth clenching as he reaches for his clothes, heart turning over in his chest. He’s sure every sound out of you has a direct connection to his cock at this point.

He won’t shower, won’t wash your drying come from his body. He’ll take you with him, wear you on his skin. Anyways, what did it matter, really, when he already wore you on his heart, his soul? What was one more conquering of his self? Perhaps this was, ultimately, what swallowing the sea looked like.

Chapter III

Netherfeildren Masterlist

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #FOG fic

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 11 months ago

Text

Combat Cold Cuts

Tech x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your favorite team of Navy SEALs just docked and are looking for some good food.

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader

Characters: Mira (OFC), Tech, Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, Crosshair

Tags & Warnings: modern!AU, sandwich shop!AU, navy!AU, fluff, awkwardness, smidge of angst, military/naval terms and jargon, sad Bad Batch backstories, mentions of death, mentions of war, mentions of injuries

Word Count: 3.2k

Author's Note: If you've been here a while, then you'll know that earlier in the year, when the polls came out, I made a poll asking who from the Bad Batch y'all would want in my Sandwich Shop AU, and Tech had the most votes. So, ta-da! Took me half a year, but better late than never. Also, don't quote me on this, but I may write more for this AU. Also, if you know where the title is from, we can be friends. As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Tech

Today begins like any other day for you as you get ready for your job on the naval base. The sky is crystal clear and the sea breeze coming off the coast is refreshing. You’ve been working at the sandwich shop on the naval base for two years now thanks to your friend Mira. You've known Mira since high school, and because she's the wife of a sailor, she lives on base. Her personal recommendation is what helped you get the job and you're forever grateful to her.

You love working on the naval base because you get to interact with all of the sailors. The sailors always have the best stories to tell. Whether it’s their last meal before setting out to sea or it’s their first meal back on dry land, you're always there to smile and laugh at what they say. Sometimes the men are lively and sometimes they're quiet. You can usually tell when something bad has happened while they were deployed, because the normally talkative ones say nothing.

While stopped at the security gate, as you wait for the officer to scan your ID, you can see a destroyer coming into port in the distance. With that class of vessel docking, you know it’s going to be a busy day at the sandwich shop, with lots of hungry sailors looking for good food and someone to tell their stories too. You quickly go through your mental checklist to ensure you properly restocked yesterday, then the officer returns your ID and lifts the gate for you to enter.

“Hey!” Mira calls with a wave and a bright smile as you enter the sandwich shop.

You smile and wave back. "Good morning!"

"Are you excited?" Mira asks as she playfully jabs her elbow into your side when you come around to the back of the deli line.

“For what?” you ask as you rub your side, then throw on your apron.

“Didn’t you hear?” Mira says.

“Hear what?” you ask.

“The Bad Batch are on that destroyer that came in this morning,” Mira answers with a giddy bobble of her head.

“No way!” you exclaim, but quickly hush yourself. “Really?”

“Yup,” Mira says with a pop of her lips on the last letter. “Top scuttlebutt says they’re returning from a super dangerous and top secret mission.”

“Woah,” you breathe. "Incredible."

The Bad Batch. An elite team of five navy SEALs that were pulled together as sole survivors from other teams across the navy. Each member of the Bad Batch has a unique skill set that allows their team to be practically unstoppable in the field. Which is why they are assigned the most difficult missions, because their success rate precedes them. They don’t even use their real names anymore, just the nicknames they've been given over their many years of service.

Hunter, their sergeant, is the only member of the team that began his career as a navy SEAL. He lost his original SEAL team during a special operation involving drug pirates off the gulf of some foreign country. According to sources, he was able to track down the pirates, complete the mission, and bring his dead men back to port for a proper burial. That's how he got the name, Hunter. He's a natural born leader, and there’s not an operation he won’t lead his men into.

Echo, their communications specialist, is a triple amputee and a former sonar technician on a submarine. His submarine was attacked while surfacing from a mission, which is when he lost his right arm and both legs. Unfortunately, the rest of the crew weren't so lucky. He spent a week in a coma, and his best friend he served with died in the bed next to him the day before he woke up. Sometimes you see him sitting by himself at the memorial with two open beers.

Wrecker, their demolition expert, was part of an explosive ordnance disposal unit before a fatal accident. It was supposed to be a routine defusal of a pipe bomb, but his partner misread one of the numbers on the detonator, leading him to cut the wrong wire. Wrecker noticed the mistake and tried to stop him, but it was too late. His partner didn't make it, and neither did the rest of the unit. Wrecker survived, but lost most of his hearing, and all of his vision, in his left ear and eye.

Crosshair, their weapons expert and sniper, wasn't in the navy, but was a scout sniper in the marine corps. The man was born with a cigarette in his mouth and a permanent scowl on his face, and not much is known about his time in the marine corp. However, according to the rumors, his scout sniper platoon was ambushed during a night operation in the tropics. They say he was stranded on one of the islands for thirty-two days before he was found and rescued.

Tech, their cyber intelligence specialist, was part of the cyber command group before he was reassigned to the Bad Batch. While it sounds like a desk job, he was actually involved in combat missions where he provided integrated cyberspace attacks in support of operational plans. Basically, cyber-warfare. Not much is known about what happened to his team, and there aren't many rumors or theories surrounding the circumstances either, so it remains a mystery.

"So," Mira begins with a sly grin, “are you finally going to ask him on a date?”

“Who?” you ask as you pull off the plastic wrap from the condiment containers.

“You know who,” Mira taps your arm. “The smart one with the glasses that you make googly-eyes at whenever he comes in.”

“Oh…” you pause. “That one.”

“Well?” Mira presses while waving a loaf of Italian bread around.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe next time?” Mira scoffs. “Maybe next time? Girl, he could be dead next time!”

You rush to cover her mouth. “Shh! Don’t say that. It’s bad luck.”

Mira mumbles something you can't understand.

"What did you say?" you ask as you remove your hand.

"I said," Mira begins, "they don't need extra help in the bad luck department."

You roll your eyes and return to prepping the deli line for when the shop opens. While it's true that a lot of bad things have happened to the Bad Batch team, none of the members have died themselves. So, is it really the men who carry the bad luck? Or is it another force entirely? You push back the crazy thoughts, because in reality, you're not superstitious, even if Mira tries to convince you otherwise. Instead, you make your conjectures based on the facts in front of you.

One such fact being that the shop opens in ten minutes and there's already a line of hungry sailors outside the locked door waiting to get in. You and Mira exchange a high-five and put on your game faces to tackle the wave of hungry men. There's nothing quite like the midday rush between ten o'clock and two o'clock, but it's even worse when the ships come to port. You know after two o'clock you'll be able to take a well-earned break, but until then it is full-steam ahead.

Sailor after sailor pours into the sandwich shop once you unlock the door. Mira always mans the register and you make the sandwiches. When you first started working at the shop, it was a complete disaster trying to get in sync with each other. There was shouting, crashing into each other, and lettuce all over the floor. But now, the two of you work together like a well-oiled machine, dancing around each other behind the deli line, and communicating like a dream.

Your heart skips a beat when you see the Bad Batch walk into the sandwich shop. The quiet murmurs of the sailors stop for a moment as the SEAL team's stoic presence takes over the atmosphere. The Bad Batch have a big reputation around the base and they've garnered a lot of respect, even from the greenhorns. It's almost like having a few celebrities walk into the shop, but it doesn't last long and the sailors go back to munching and conversing with each other.

You choke down your nerves as they approach the counter and smile. "What can I get for you boys?"

"Large steak and cheese, toasted," Hunter says. "Extra peppers if you can."

"Sure thing," you answer as you make the sandwich. You quickly pop it into the toaster to melt the cheese, then wrap the sandwich in paper, and hand it to Hunter. "One large steak and cheese with extra peppers, warmed, and toasty."

"Thanks, kid," Hunter says before moving down the line to the register.

"Can I get a really large buffalo chicken with extra buffalo sauce?" Wrecker asks excitedly. "And I mean, lots of sauce, and ranch!"

"You got it," you chuckle, then make his sandwich, wrap it up, and hand it to him. "One really large buffalo chicken drowning in buffalo sauce and ranch."

"Aw, yeah!" Wrecker says as he grabs the sandwich. "Thanks a ton!"

You smile and look at your next customer, but he doesn't smile back.

"Large roast beef," Crosshair says. "Make sure the mayo is light and not a single onion touches it."

"Understood," you bristle at his tone, then quickly make his sandwich, wrap it, and hand it to him. "One large roast beef, with a squirt of mayo, and absolutely no onions."

"Finally," Crosshair says as he takes the sandwich. "Someone who can listen."

You let out the breath you were holding in and compose yourself to smile at your next customer.

"Large tuna, please," Echo says. "Extra mayo and no cheese or veggies, if that's alright."

"Not a problem," you answer, then make his sandwich, wrap it up, and hand it to him. "One large tuna, no cheese, no veggies, and extra mayo."

"Thank you, ma'am," Echo says with a nod as he grabs the sandwich and moves down to the register.

"A large cold cut combo, if you please," Tech says. "But I would prefer it if you hold the ham."

"Absolutely," you answer, then make his sandwich, wrap it up, and hand it to him. "One large cold cut combo, but hold my hand."

Tech reaches out to grab the sandwich. "I beg your pardon?"

You look up at him, confused as to what he means. "I'm sorry, did I forget something?"

"You requested that I hold your hand," Tech says. "Are you unwell?"

Your eyes grow wide and your face flushes with heat as you realize the slip of your tongue. "Oh," you stammer. "I'm sorry. I… uh… didn't mean to say… well… I just… um. Have a nice day."

Flustered and embarrassed beyond belief, you rush yourself off the deli line and into the back storage room.

Mira overhears your awkward exchange and waves Tech down to register with a smile. "I can ring you out over here, hon."

Meanwhile, in the storage room, you attempt to pull yourself together. You can't believe you made such a dumb mistake and said something so absentmindedly stupid to the one guy you like, and he's a navy SEAL for crying out loud. He must think you're an idiot, or worse. Although, you're not quite sure what could possibly be worse than being an idiot in front of a man who had perfect scores at the naval academy, but there must be something, and it makes you want to scream.

"Are you doing alright?" Mira asks as she leans against the doorframe to the storage room.

You sigh. "I'll be fine."

Mira walks over to you. "I think I can cheer you up."

"Doubt it," you answer while rubbing your hands against your face.

Mira smiles and pulls out a sticky note. "I got you a date with that smart guy you like."

You peek out through your fingers. "You what?"

"I set you up on a date with Tech," Mira repeats as she waves the sticky note around.

"How did–"

"Ah, ah," Mira stops you. "It's a secret. And by a secret, I mean I just asked him."

Your jaw drops as you throw her an incredulous look. Was it really that easy? All you had to do was ask? Seriously? You're shocked that Mira had the audacity to ask Tech to go on a date with you, but you're even more shocked that he actually said yes. You're not sure how to process this new information, or if you'll ever get your heart to beat normally again. All at once, feelings of excitement and panic intermingle in your stomach and you feel like you're going to be sick.

"Here are the details," Mira hands you the sticky note, a big grin still plastered on her face. "Don't be late."

You take the sticky note from her, and she goes back to the front to continue taking care of the customers. You look at what's written on the small piece of paper, and it's a time and place. The park bench at 1900 hours. You count backwards on your fingers to seven o'clock. Even though you've been working on the base for two years, you still haven't gotten used to military time. You look up at the clock on the wall and see it is two o'clock. At least you have time to get ready.

You spend the rest of your shift trying not to let your nerves get the better of you. You busy yourself with everything possible; to the point where you've swept the floor and wiped the counter ten times already. But you can't help it. You're excited and nervous about your date with Tech. You're not even sure if you know how to go on a date, considering it's been so long since you've been on one yourself. However, you have Mira to help you, so it won't be that bad.

Once your shift is over, the shop has been cleaned and the front door locked, Mira helps you get ready for your date. You explain to her how you feel nervous and how you're worried that you might say something wrong or he might think you're stupid. Mira just smiles and listens as you ramble on, offering the occasional encouragement here and there as she helps you put your hair up. Luckily, you wore some decent clothes today so you don't have to go home and change.

After you're ready, Mira gives you a big hug and a few words of advice. "Just be yourself and you'll be fine."

"Thanks," you say, then separate from the hug.

"Go get em'!" Mira shouts as you open the door to leave.

You turn around, smile, and wave goodbye. Mira knows that you'll call her as soon as the date is over to give her all of the juicy details, but you're happy she's here right now to cheer you on. You close the door to the shop behind you and take a deep breath of the evening air. It's still daylight, since it's summer, and because it's later in the day, you're not worried about sweating or becoming gross from the heat. Steeling yourself, you walk to the park to meet Tech for your date.

As you approach the specified meeting place, you see Tech sitting on one of the benches under a tree. Your heart flutters and your stomach flips as your nerves flare throughout your veins. You try your best to breathe through the anxiety, and you swallow back your fear as you approach him. He acknowledges your presence but doesn't say anything, and then you sit down next to him. You both sit in silence and you fidget with your fingers while trying to think of something to say.

"I–" you both start to say, then stop.

"You first," you both say again, then stop.

You giggle, which helps break the ice. "I've never been good at conversation."

"Neither have I," Tech admits. "However, your colleague was most pleasurable to speak with."

"Oh," you say. "Yeah, Mira is great."

"That is not to say that you also will not be pleasurable to speak with," Tech adds.

You pause for a second as you try to process his words. "Can you say that again, but slower?"

"My sincerest apologies," Tech says. "My military duties require precision of language and I will admit that I get carried away with my verbiage. However, my team finds my speech pattern to be complicated as well, so I would not feel disheartened by your lack of comprehension."

"Uh, thanks," you say. "I think."

"Perhaps I should begin again," Tech says as he reaches out his hand. "I am Tech and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

You smile, shake his hand, and offer your name as well.

Your evening with Tech becomes more smooth as you continue chatting on the bench. Your conversation is filled with quirks from the both of you, as well as giggles from your side, and confused looks from Tech. However, it's nice chatting with someone like him. His speech skills really are incredible and it makes sense why he graduated top of his class at the naval academy. You find him endearing, and the way he gets passionate when he speaks makes you smile.

You carry on your conversation with him for as long as you can; until the sun sets and the lampposts in the park illuminate the walkways for the late night passerby. As much as you don't want to call it a night and leave, you can't help but stifle a small yawn. You try to hide it, but during your brief time with Tech, you've realized that not much goes unnoticed by him. Just thinking about it makes you yawn again, but this time not so subtly, and Tech takes note.

"Perhaps we should adjourn for the night," Tech says. "Your oral reflex and deep inhalation indicates that you are fatigued."

"My what?" you ask.

"You yawned," Tech explains.

"Oh," you chuckle. "I guess I am getting pretty tired. It was a long day at the shop."

"I concur," Tech says as he gets up from the bench. "I assume you will be at your employment establishment tomorrow as well?"

You get up from the bench and stretch your arms over your head. "You would assume correctly."

"Through the power of deduction, will you also be available after you have concluded your assigned duties at said establishment?" Tech asks.

You smile. "Why, yes. That will be the case."

"Then I would like to formally invite you to participate in another mutual discussion tomorrow," Tech says.

"I accept," you answer. "Same time, same place?"

"Indubitably," Tech answers.

"Does that mean yes?" you ask, not understanding the word.

"Without a doubt," Tech explains.

You smile. "Good night, Tech."

"Good night," Tech says. "Pleasantest of endogenous sensory experiences."

You snort and decide to look that one up when you get home, but only after you call Mira and tell her about the wonderful time you had with Tech, as well as the prospect of seeing him again tomorrow. Although, you highly doubt you'll be able to sleep tonight, since your body feels too giddy and excited to calm down and relax. Mira was right. Life is too short to put off doing things you're scared of, because tomorrow is not promised to anyone, and today is all you may have.

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arcielee · 1 year ago

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Just different stories from the Ewanverse. I will update whenever I expand like when Saltburn comes out. Please be mindful of tags and warnings!

Dancing in the Dark [World on Fire] Tom Bennett x OFC Summary: War is spilling over Europe and a route is being created to help POWs escape occupied France. Sometimes love does not last forever, but lasts long enough. Warnings: Smut/NSFW later on, some misogyny cause it's the 1940s Author's Note: This is complete, enjoy. ♥

+ + + +

It's Not Tonight [World on Fire] Tom Bennett x Female!Reader Summary: Tom Bennett slips in through your window. Warnings: Tom is a scoundrel, angst from a one night stand, masturbating, a smidge of voyeurism, kissing, grinding, sexual memories recalled fondly but also bitterly, overstimulation kinda?

Lazy Sunday [Trigger Point] Billy Washington x Female!Reader Summary: Billy enjoys a lazy Sunday with you. Warnings: Comfort fic with some smutty smut, oral (f receiving).

Billy x you drabble [Trigger Point] Billy Washington x Female!Reader Summary: This exists in the same AU as Lazy Sunday! Warnings: Nothing, just some fluff to soothe the soul.

Closing Time [Trigger Point] Billy Washington x Female!Reader Summary: You and Billy do your best to make time for one another. Warnings: Semi-public sex, kissing shenanigans, teasing, oral (f receiving), p in v unprotected.

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#arcielee masterlist #world on fire #world on fire fanfic #world on fire fanfiction #wof #tom bennett x ofc #trigger point #billy washington #billy x you #billy x female!reader #billy washington fanfic #billy washington fanfiction #updated 7/7

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redlollygag · 5 months ago

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so im gonna be autistic in your inbox 😁😁😁 < face of someone mentally unwell

SO the biggest appeal of dabihawks is ofc the enemies to lovers trope, first lets look at canon:

theyre enemies plain and simple, they hate each other, its a beautiful show to watch of them absolutely disgusted by the other but forced to interact [ IF ONLY THEY GOT MORE FUCKING SCREENTIME TOGETHER JESUS CHRIST ] anyways its the angst potential, hawks dirtying his hands just to get into the league only to then betray the entire league </3 hawks dirtying his hands just for the sake of the mission for the sake of dabi letting him in because that WAS his only contact so hes the one hes "closest too" dabi the evil motherfuck toying with hawks, making him do all the things he hates and knowing what hawks is truely doing. they hate each other in canon plain and simple they dont care if neither one dies or not. hawks even STILL views endeavor as an equal even after all hes done (whether or not you think its valid is up to you i think that hawks needs a LITTLE MORE TIME AND SPACE to rethink the whole "yeah no enjis cool now hes alright :D" shtick.... personally i hate it i just want him to be a little more..... EYES OPEN to how fucked up endeavor did things even if hes trying to do better now like ?????) canon tropes that could fit are like their divorce, unhealthy co dependency, there was only one bed, acciental first kiss, drunk sex, fuck buddies, rarepair, the whole hero vs villain thing, height difference, flirty and the flustered, oh fuck theyre BOTH messed up, loud and quiet ETC ETC

now heres where the dots connect though through fandom genius. now when dabis first introduced hes blue and emo and firey and dramatic (theatre kid) mentally unwell, tired yet manic, daddy issues supreme, body horror circus party, the whole palooza. we ALL been known, his daddys a top hero who made him a top villain. and now hawks, who was an enigma at first, man too fast for his own good, red, arrogant, laidback, yet serious and calculating, heart of gold underneath all of that dirty work with a like for trashy preppy outfits. at first it was just the enemies to lovers, dabi hates endeavor and heroes, hawks admires him to the sun and is one of the best heros... AND THEN WE GET HAWKS BACK STORY. hawks. hero. raised by a villain. if the red and blue, sun and moon, emo/goth and jock, FLAME AND FEATHERS, if those parallels werent enough the father issues sure will! dabi, hero father made him a villain, hawks, villain father made him a hero. the amount of parallels these two have was fuel for the growing fire.

FIRE IN WHICH IT WAS FANON. fanon dabihawks is BEAUTIFUL. the best and probably only light dabihawks will ever shine in 😀😀😀 < gripping horikoshis neck even thought nothing will happen but angst for these two. slightly shifted canon compliant with some queer writing and spicing up the characters a SMIDGE, making them more fit to how they ACTAULLY ARE (in my very (not) humble opinion horikoshi you dont know your own characters like we do) all of that is the mountain of fanfic tropes. we already have enemies to lovers but add a little bit of that battle for dominance play and sexual tension, heavy flirting and fuck buddies OOO BOY. they play and they bite and hawks is number one pretty boy and charms his way past dabi "probably hasnt been flirted with in his life," OR dabi being the brat and attention seeker he is and pushing hawks buttons before dabi gets put in his place. hawks turned genuine lov member because then thats where he sees the TRUTH. or hawks still killing jin but REGRETS IT TO THE MAX and dabi finds him a little after and hawks begging for forgiveness. the league was his only true family but hes been a hero under the commission for so long that killing him was second nature until he realizes. rehabilitation after the war and dabi being captured and hawks still visiting him wherever dabis being held. if you make them even a LITTLE BIT GAY it literally makes things more tragic than just "lets hate each other even though we're walking parallels"

one very popular and loved aspect is red tailed hawks avian hawks and not just his fierce wings. THIS ADDS TO THE MOUNTAIN. youve got a multitude of bird facts like torpor, nesting, cloacas if youre into that, preening, MATING HABITS. hawks being a spy to the league only to see how open they are to their members quirks. spinner and his lizardness needing warmth and insects and shedding and togas fascination and need for blood ( not quirk reasons shes mentally ill but there are healthy ways to get blood so) hawks seeing the league being accepting open AND welcoming to when we dont see ANY OF THAT in his hero work??? especially with dabis inside knowledge of how shit the hero system is with quirk discrimination??? youve got so much to work with here JUST from the aspect of making hawks a hawk mutant. he likes how shiny dabi is with his staples and piercings, he loves the natural warmth coming from him (even if dabis skin is cold), hawks lowkey loving the smell of blood from dabis scars (bird of prey) dabi helping hawks be open to the more avian side of him, he imprints on him and dabi becomes mate in hawks mind, IN TURN hawks showing dabi that even the most shittiest of origins, you can still do good, hawks knowing full well that quirks sucks (molting season, talon clipping, wing care, the overstimulation of senses like sounds hawks has become numb to) and he coaxs that little burning fire thats still in dabi, that he can still do good (dabi said that killing innocent people drove him mad in a negative way so he doesnt enjoy it) two broken souls from quirk discrimination finding solace even with all the shit hero AND villain society treat them. this leads to, along with those above, hurt comfort, slow burn, mutual healing, mutual pining, sunshine x grump, girlboss and malewife, overly affectionate x touch adverse, old married couple, sacrifices too much x sacrifices too little, romantic virgin x romantic confident, annoyed x annoying, gets into fights x patches them up, OBLIVIOUSNESS TO THE MAX, idiots in love, domestic husbands ETC ETC (and the more kinky spicy aspects when it comes to bird genes and a fire quirk)

what makes them even JUCIER is if you make the commission EVIL. EXACTLY WHAT DABI HATES AND DESPISES. another common trope is to make hawks be lowkey abused by the commission hence the whole child soldier thing but hawks has been living with then his whole life so its like, fine for him. dabi being his savior, dabi showing him the league can be his true family, dabi, a villain, being hawkss hero. hawks, who would get his hands dirty just for the sake of justice, shows dabi true heroes are still alive. hawks being an avian mutant adds to the juice because if it was just hawks with fierce wings well you could paint it as just the child soldier BUT WITH THE HETEROMORPH youve got commission being absolute JERKS and forcing hawks to mask his avian-ness, forced to endure people touching his wings left and right, forced to not perch, forced to have them preen his feathers in the way that society views as "perfect," clipping his talons, making him live in a boring ass apartment because "hawks heroes dont care about sentiments, you have to be presentable and collecting 'shiny things' isnt herolike," the league being the EPITOME of quirk freedom, hawks finding solace in the league because hes actually able to be himself and being a heteromorph isnt SHOULDNT be bad, dabi being able to polish his old big brother instincts and take care of hawks nurse him back to help and free him from his bird cage.

SPEAKING OF BIRD CAGES, another beautiful fanon interpretation is DABI HIMSELF BEING A PART OF THE LEAGUE BEFORE HIS REBIRTH. OW. youve got friends to lovers and all the fluff that comes with it (as much as it is being in the commission) dabi and hawks growing up together in the commission only for endeavor to pull dabi out and hawks loses his one true best friend :[ dabi and hawks not knowing how to socialize with other kids but between dabis temper yet caringness and hawks being shy yet a determined bastard, they click LOVINGLY. they bond over shitty fathers (hawks not knowing the extent to his idol OR you can change it up and have hawks despise endeavor secretly but the commission knows hes adored endeavor so he has to suck up the urge to MAIM and KILL the flaming bag of shit because at the time endeavor aint "changing" and he acts EXACTLY like hawkss birth father.) hawks imprinting on dabi his first real friend, taking care of each other through the commissions pains and abuse, sacrificing themselves in order for the other to not be punished. MAJOR ANGST WHEN IT COMES TO DABIS DEATH and hawks loses his spark and throws himself into training to distract the howling pain of his bird side and instincts as he lost a flock member (and potential mate), ONLY TO FIND DABI ALIVE YEARS LATER. the angst of reconciliation to see your love turn yo the darkest sides (dabi being a villain and hawks being a hero both of who they respectively hate) the angst of dabi knowing that without him the commission successfully brainwashed hawks to the point of betrayal on their side and hawks knowing his old beloved is now on the side in which he has to take down and kill (his old beloved truely did die if this is the path dabi went to) THE FRIENDS TO LOVERS TO STRANGERS TO ENEMIES AND BACK TO LOVERS. IM GONE O-(-( ORZ. youve successfully wounded me.

the amount of aus/canon divergent situations you can put these two from those three things TOGETHER or SEPARATE/SOLO, soulmates, quirk accident, princess carry, found family, exes to lovers, role reversal, fantasy au, royal au, cyberpunk au, dystopian, apocalypse, sickfic, honeypot turned non sexual intimacy, highschool au, civilians au, quirk swap, body swap, arranged marriage, actual genuine married couple, kindergarten au, amnesia fics, time travel, time travel fix it fics, space au, star wars au, pirates and mermaids, and the wonderful beautiful amount of crack/crack treated seriously is UDGODLY. hawks pranking endeavor, the lov and hawks playing video games, trophy wife dabi, watching disney movies, coming out at the worse times, "HAWKS/DABI WDYM YOUR FUCKING A VILLAIN/HERO," one or more of the todorokis (minus endeavor) being in the league and dabi hating it but hawks loves it (adores shouto, loves and is terrified of fuyumi, gets along w natsuo, DABI YOUR MOM IS A FALLEN ANGEL), dabis mom being in the league and is a better mom in canon and dabis like what the shit or this is my mom fuckers touch her and your burnt and hawks is like but what about affectionate touching (hugs, headbumps etc), hawks learning to build a pillow fort and experience actual good childhoos activities, dabi walking in on hawks (and maybe spinner and toga) indulging in his avian-ness for the first time, dabi cooking for hawks, hawkss nesting habits, gift giving

am i autistic about dabihawks or am i AUTISTIC about DABIHAWKS

if you read this hold this (jesus /AFFECTIONATE I WROTE A LOT.) thank you and hoping to convert you :D

ANON you fucking FEASTED WITH THIS ONE OH MY GOD!!!! You delivered on your promise and brought over the whole damn MEAL!!

(I love the essay thank you so so much for taking time to pour out your thoughts on this ship!!! Ngl I don’t give Dabi enough credit as a character and maybe this ship is one way to kinda explore that and dammit if I am not more intrigued by them than anything else)

#gin speaks #ANON #BREATHLESS I AM #I frankly want to hear you write out and analyze your grocery list this was absolutely fantastic to read #bnha #dabihawks

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moonlightndaydreams · 1 year ago

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Room 143 Series: A Han Jisung 18+ fanfic - Part 1 - A Night to Remember (the beginning of the 143 Series)

Premise: If someone told me I would spend a night with Han Jisung, I would have laughed in your face.

Stray Kids are in Sydney Australia for their Maniac concerts, and so am I. Little did I know that I would be staying at the same hotel as them, or what was going to unfold that night.

Characters: Han/ OFC, Very little mentions of Stray Kids Ensemble.

Trigger Warnings/ Warnings: smut, oral sex, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, sex toys, mild spanking, angst, romantic feelings, videotaping sex, cum eating, explicit language, making love, anal sex.

This is an adult 18+ story.

Approx 22k words

If someone had told me that I would have one night with Han Jisung, I would have laughed in your face.

[ Han heard my frustrated, pathetic cry. “Tell me what you need me to do.” He whispered huskily between kisses.

“Touch me, Han.” I breathed, and I reached down to touch his hand on my thigh. “Please.” My voice was barely audible.

He let out a shaky breath and looked down to where our hands were resting together on my leg. My hand slid back up his arm to grip his bicep, and he slowly inched his fingers up the inside of my leg, his hungry eyes following his hand as it disappeared under my skirt. ]

Sophie pov Earlier that day…

It was finally Tuesday, and I woke up in the hotel room with excitement. Tonight was the night. Stray Kids were having their Sydney concerts tonight and tomorrow night and I was going to both! YES!

I flicked the sheet off of me but continued to lay there trying to ground myself that I was actually going to see them in real life. They would be in the same place as me. At the same time. I squealed and flapped my arms and legs around in excitement. I was such a nerd.

Sydney had been hot this week. February was the hottest month of the year in Australia, but this week was outrageously hot, and STAYS were getting worried about the outfits they had chosen for the night. It was definitely not the weather for black pants and boots, or any of the punk/goth-like attire many had planned to wear. I’d been sweating for days! I hoped the boys would be able to cope tonight. They had already performed two concerts in Melbourne, and that city had had a heatwave too.

I had arrived at the hotel yesterday evening, to give myself a little bit of a mini break from my busy life, and, because I didn’t know anyone who liked Kpop, my mini break was also a solo one.

But that didn’t bother me at all. I knew from the STAY’s Facebook group that many were going to the concerts solo. I loved the idea that young people these days are happy to enjoy the things that light them up, even if no one else they know likes it. I am a slightly older STAY. Early thirties. So doing things independently doesn’t seem as big a deal as it would have 15 years ago. I was fine with flying solo.

I checked the time on my phone. 8am. I had too many hours to kill, and decided I’d go and have some breakfast and then go do a workout in the hotel’s gym. That should pass some time and get a smidge of my pent up excitement out of my restless body.

I went down to the restaurant where breakfast was your standard “Continental breakfast”, and I filled up on pastries and orange juice. The restaurant was practically empty. Any business folk would have already eaten (if they had even eaten at all) and be off to work, and since it wasn’t the weekend there weren’t any families around. Empty and quiet.

Once I had enough to eat and drink I headed to the gym room.

I wasn’t the fittest person in the world, and I was definitely not the most confident person in a gym setting, but I did like to make sure I exercised three times a week.

I opened the door to the gym and found it to be empty. Good, no one would see my awkwardness. The room was moderately sized, with several treadmills and elliptical machines along the back wall, a floor area for mat work, some strength training equipment and free weights along the full length mirrored side wall. Two weights benches were parked nearby.

After warming up on an exercise bike, I decided I’d use some free weights today. I wandered over to the weights and picked up the 4 kg dumbbell and sat down on a bench and began a set of bicep curls.

Even though I was alone I felt so uncoordinated and self-conscious. But I tried to push through. Something I had learned about myself a long time ago was that after the first ten minutes of anything, some of that weird anxiety lessens, and I settle into what I am doing. So my first goal was to get through ten minutes and surely I would feel okay after that.

That’s when I heard voices outside. Male voices. Getting closer to the gym.

Fuck. Don’t tell me some gym bros are going to come in here?

I could feel my skin flushing as I became flustered. I listened hard trying to find out what the voices were saying.

I could here them. One voice was bellowing loudly, another laughing. But I couldn’t understand them. They were speaking a foreign language.

The gym door burst open and three men dressed in black confidently sauntered in.

They noticed me right away and nodded a polite hello to me, bowing slightly when they did.

I automatically responded with a friendly smile and a “hello, how are you.” But inside I was frozen.

It was fucking 3Racha.

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

The three men moved so confidently around the gym whilst I tried to mind my own business and not look at them. Every now and then I would steal a glance, and each time I could feel my heartbeat kick up a gear.

They looked like gods as they helped each other with weights, admiring each other’s physique as their muscles became pumped up. Changbin said something to Han and Chan burst out laughing uncontrollably. Han then pouted and complained. Was Changbin teasing him? I smiled to myself as I watched their interactions. If it wasn’t for the nerves and anxiety swirling around my body telling me that this is fucking real, I would have pinched myself to see if I was dreaming.

I felt like an outsider who had no idea what I was doing. I couldn’t stay any longer. But I also couldn’t leave. I’d be an idiot to walk away from this scenario. But I couldn’t keep sitting there with my 4kg dumbell. I needed to move onto some other exercise.

I scanned the room, seeking out a piece of equipment to use. Something that didn’t look too difficult. The pull down bar. Yes, I have used one of those before.

So over to the pull down bar I went. It was set to some outrageously heavy weight that only Chan and and Changbin would be able to manage, which meant that I’d have to figure out how to change the weight setting. I stood there looking for the pin that readjusts the weight. How the fuck do I do this?

“You look a little lost with that.” Oh my fucking god. Chan. My heart stopped and felt like I couldn’t find my words. Be polite. Be polite. Somehow I managed to pull a smile and actually speak.

“Um… yeah I… I’m just trying to adjust the weight.” Okay, so I managed to speak, but it didn’t come out well.

Chan came in closer so he could adjust the machine. He was standing so close to me that I could feel a warmth radiating off of him, and the smell of his skin which was of a fresh deodorant and sweat mingled together. His bare arms so close that if I reached out I would touch them.

“What setting would you like?” he looked at me and smiled that gorgeous smile we all know and love.

“Um… maybe the second lightest.” I said shyly realising what a weakling I am.

If Chan had any judgment about how not-strong I was he didn’t show it. He just simply slot the pin in, and then held the handle bar steady as I sat down on the seat. He was about to pull it down for me when I felt someone come up behind me. It was Changbin. He took hold of the handle bar, ushering Chan to let go of it, and pulled it down so I could hold onto it. Chan let him, taking step back, but stayed lingering by my side.

Changbin’s thick arms were on either side of mine as he held the bar steady for me to take hold of, his hands merely inches away from mine. I couldn’t breathe.

“Thank you.” I managed as Changbin let go and stepped back. By now Han was hovering around as well and I felt like I could die of embarrassment on the spot. How was I supposed to do this with them all watching me?

I took a deep breath and pulled the bar down, and then released it back up. Although I didn’t know how to change the weight on the equipment, I did know how to do the exercise properly with good form. Thank God. Satisfied that I was doing it correctly, Chan and Han went back to what they were doing at the bench press, but Changbin took this as an opportunity to be ‘personal trainer’ and stood close by watching, nodding. Approving.

“I think you can do heavier.” He stated, more to himself than to me. He took hold of the handle bar again, this time his fingers brushed mine, sending a shiver through my body, and eased the bar back up to it’s starting position. Then he considered what weight to set the machine. I watched him with one of his arms crossed across his chest, across his skin tight black t shirt, his other hand at his mouth in thought. Han was back now standing at Changbin’s side.

“What do you think? This one?” he asked Han.

I looked from Changbin to Han. Han looked at me. I felt my skin redden. He raised his eyebrows up and down at me as if to say “look at Changbin… He can’t help himself can he?”. I let out a small chuckle and Han laughed too.

“Okay try this one.” Changbin had reset the weight and helped me get back into position.

It was far heavier than I expected, but manageable.

“Changbin! A hand.” Chan called out over at the bench press. Satisfied he’d selected the correct weight for me, Changbin went back over to his leader, leaving Han to supervise me.

I felt like I was going to die. Han fucking Jisung. In the flesh. His slim body was covered with a white muscle tee, showing off his toned arms and he had slim black sweatpants on. We were in the middle of a heatwave and he had sweatpants on!

I had experienced performance anxiety in the past but this would have to top it. I attempted to keep my breath steady and my mind focused on the exercise. I tried to block out this stunning young man’s energy. This stunning young man who was… gazing?…at me.

After I completed ten pull downs, Han took the bar from me and let it slide back up. His chest grazing my back as he did so. My breath hitched. Was that on purpose? Then he came around and crouched down next to me, and from seemingly nowhere, he pulled out a bottled water and offered it to me.

“My names Han.” He said “and over there, that’s Chan and Changbin.” He pointed to his band members then turned his attention back to me, waiting for me to introduce myself.

I smirked. I wasn’t sure what to say. “I know.” I whispered quietly.

Han raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth in surprise.

“You know who we are?” he leaned forward “are you a Stay?” added excitedly.

I nodded. “Umm.. Yes.. But only a new one. I am not sure I know enough to even call myself a Stay. I am going to the concert tonight though.”

“You’re a Stay. Trust me.” Han grinned.

A dreaded thought hit me then. What if they think I stalked them here!

“I wouldn’t have imagined JYP would have put you guys up at this hotel, though.” I hoped that didn’t sound extra stalker-like.

“Actually we weren’t meant to originally. It’s all been changed up last minute. But it’s not too bad. I got to meet a Stay and that is always a bonus.” He playfully punched me in the arm.

“My name’s Sophie.” I offered.

“Nice to meet you, Sophie.” Han grinned. His smile was infectious, and I found myself grinning like an idiot at him.

The next little while was spent with mostly me talking about where I live, what I do and how I came there alone and that I'm going to their concert.

“So how are you getting to the venue?” Chan piped up. By then all three members were sitting around chatting to me, and I felt more comfortable and at ease.

“I don’t know. I guess an Uber?” I replied.

“Don’t be silly. You can come with us.” Han said and turned to Chan. “Can’t she Hyung?” Han looked hopeful.

“It’s okay. I am a grown woman.” I didn’t want to cause any problems or tension between the members or staff.

Chan held up his hand. “Of course she can come with us, but you’ll have to get her a pass and she’ll have to be there for soundcheck, and we won’t get back here until quite late.”

This was too much. I didn’t need any special treatment.

“Look. I’m really grateful you want to look after me, or be kind or… whatever… but it’s really okay.” I insisted.

“What’s your room number? I will collect you myself.” Han said sounding chivalrous. It was rather endearing to see him eager to take care of me.

Maybe I should run with this and see where it goes?

I swallowed hard. “Okay,” I said. “Room 143.”

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

Back in my room I flopped down onto the bed. What the hell just happened? I kicked my legs in flurry, and brought my hands up over my face to muffle a squeal. After I let reality sink in, I sat straight up. I needed to get ready! Han had said we had to leave by 2pm and that left… I looked down at my phone… two hours.

I jumped in the shower, but my mind was still in the gym with Han, Chan and Changbin. How does something this exciting happen to me? Me!! It just kept repeating itself over and over in my mind like one of those TikTok looped edits.

I don’t know how I managed it, but before I knew it I had blow dried my hair, applied my makeup and was slipping on my frayed denim skirt, and a pink and white tee covered in little love hearts. The theme I was trying for was “Maxident”.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the knock on my hotel door.

Was it already time?

I hurried to the door, almost tripping over my own feet. “Coming. Just a sec.” I called out. I took a deep, steadying breath, and opened the door.

There stood Han… Han. Fucking. Jisung. Standing at my hotel room door. He was now donning baggy cargo pants and a grey, oversized hoodie, which he had pulled up over his bucket cap. He was gorgeous, and I felt my nerves pick up.

“Hi there.” I smiled and welcomed him into the room.

“Room 143?” he replied pointing at my room number “143 I love you!” he sang and finger hearted me, making me laugh. “I’ve got you something.” He gestured to the black cross-body bag he was wearing.

I ushered Han into my room. My room. Argghh how was this even real?

The hotel room was pretty standard of hotel rooms. An ensuite bathroom off to the right when you entered the room, a double bed in the middle, and a 2 seater couch and coffee table on the other side of the bed. A large window looked out onto a mediocre view.

“So…this is my humble abode for the next day or two.” I said gesturing around the room as though I was giving him a tour. Han scanned the room like it was somehow unique, until I saw his gaze land on an item of clothing laying on the floor… a black lace garment. Fuck, my bra!

In the most ungraceful way, I kicked the bra away and under the bed. “Sorry about that.” I stuttered. How fucking embarrassing. Han simply grinned at me as though he wanted to tease me, but he didn’t say a word.

“So… I brought you a present.” He said as he pulled off his cross-body bag. My eyes widened as he unzipped it and he pulled out a band tshirt. “I thought seeing as though you are part of the team tonight, you would like to wear this?” he handed me the shirt.

“Naww… thanks…Han.” I unfolded the black shirt and held it up against my body. The little green Maniac logo on one breast, and green print on the back.

I looked up from the shirt and met his eyes to find him looking at me expectantly. “Go try it on.” He encouraged me. “I mean I love what you’re wearing right now, so you don’t have to change it if you don’t want to,” He scratched his head nervously, “but I’d love to see you in it.” He added coyly, lowering his eyes to the floor. A rush of heat rose through my body.

“Of course. Yes…Just give me a minute.” I choked. “Um, I’ll be right back. Grab a drink if you’d like.” I waved towards the mini bar and kettle.

I stood at the bathroom sink in my new band t-shirt, trying to decide whether to tuck it into my skirt or not. What would Han prefer? Stop it, Sophie. He’s just being kind. It’s not like he’s attracted to you. I turned from side to side to get an idea of how I looked, and settled on tucking it in to highlight my hourglass figure. Then I touched up my make up. Han Jisung is in my room! I slapped my cheek to bring myself back to my senses, my stinging skin telling me this was very real. Okay, breathe Sophie. You can do this.

I stepped back into the room to find Han making two cups of tea. It was an interesting sight. Him looking all street-wise whilst brewing a comforting warm tea. Just like he can deliver hard hitting rap lines and then turn around act like a Baby-girl.

“Tada!” I exclaimed and Han turned around. He looked me up and down and nodded in approval. “Looks good, baby!” He grinned nervousnessly, fidgeting with the cords of his hoodie.

“Aren’t you hot in that?” I asked pointing to his hoodie? “It’s so hot today! Even for those that live here!”

“It is hot today.” He whispered and bit his lip, like he wasn’t talking about just the weather.

I ignored the sudden tension that had filled the room. It was suddenly suffocating, and I started twirling my hair around my finger to try to look busy.

“Well… feel free to take it off if you’re too hot, ok.” What the fuck are you saying? But Han was already removing the hoodie and his bucket cap anyway, and draped them on my bed before returning his attention to the tea. His long, slender neck, now on full display, had a thin sheen of perspiration. It set off something inside of me. I am not generally a fan of sweat, but seeing Han with just a light amount of perspiration, well, it was doing something to me. I wanted to…taste it.

“Tea’s ready!” he announced, turning around with a hot teacup in each hand. “Should we sit on the couch…?” he nodded towards the two seater couch at the other side of the room.

“Huh? Mmm.. Yes… sure…” I was brought back to reality, and it seemed I was finding it difficult to find my words, so I just awkwardly led the way and sat down.

Han placed the tea on the timber coffee table and settled into the couch and grinned at me. My eyes darted around the room nervously. What was one supposed to say to a Kpop idol who was sitting in your hotel room and just made you a fucking cup of tea?

“So…” I sucked in my breath and picked at the the hem of my skirt with my fingers.

“This is awkward for you isn’t it?” he concluded, tilting his head to the side as he watched my nervous hands busy with the frayed hem.

He glanced up capturing my gaze and I nodded, sucking in my lip. “Yeah… Sorry?” I offered.

“You don’t need to be nervous around me, baby.” He chimed endearingly. It was supposed to make me feel at ease, but all it did was make me nearly choke on air.

“If it helps, I’m nervous too.” He continued, leaning in closer like it was a secret. He looked so perfect. Big eager eyes, and an expression of wonderment, like he thought he was the lucky one in this situation.

“Really?” I whispered. “You’re nervous too?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He seemed so confident and outgoing, although I had only ever seen him perform.

He nodded. “I am the most nervous person I know!”

I laughed softly. Han looked at me suspiciously. “What is it? Why are you laughing?” he teased.

“Han,” my laugh becoming louder. “I’m the most nervous person I know!”

The rapper looked at me in disbelief, mouth hung open.

“Mm mm,” I nodded. “You don’t want to know how nervous I was in the gym this morning.” I confessed, smacking him lightly on the arm.

“You looked pretty cool and calm to me.” He argued cheekily.

“Well you don’t look nervous right now!” I taunted.

Han grabbed my hand from the hem of my skirt and held it against his chest. “Feel how fast my heart is.” He whispered seriously. I could feel his hard pecs under his shirt and the pulsing of his heart against my hand, as he stared into my fucking soul. My eyes were locked on his. I couldn’t escape his gaze. Han may have thought his heart was beating fast, but it was nothing like the racing of my heart. The pounding sounding like a fucking drum line was standing in the room.

“Can you feel it?” he asked hopefully. Oh god what was happening?

My mouth was dry. I needed a drink. I pulled my hand back quickly, and without thinking, I picked up my teacup and took a big sip in a bid to busy myself. Big mistake. “Fuck!” I pulled my mouth away and almost spilled tea down my new shirt. “I burnt my tongue!” I couldn’t believe how stupid I must’ve looked.

Han chuckled “Well it is fresh, baby.” He teased and he took the cup off me, returning it to the table. Baby?

I hung my head. Why oh why did I do that? I squeezed my eyes closed and shook my head, hoping to shake out the embarrassment.

“Oh my god,” Han’s teasing turned serious as he saw my reaction, springing from his seat to dart to the mini bar to grab a bottle of water.

“Here,” he offered me the water. “Drink this, it will help.”

I took a big gulp of water, hoping that it will dissipate my embarrassment as well as my burnt tongue.

“Hey!” Han edged closer to my side, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?” I could feel his eyes on me even though my gaze was firmly fixed to the floor.

I shook my head. “I’m just so clumsy.” I whispered and looked up shyly to meet his gaze. His eyes were kind and warm, and he was smirking a little.

“Baby,” Baby? Really, does he have to keep saying that? I knew he said it to everyone, but it didn’t stop my heart from skipping a beat. “You are talking to the clumsiest Idol known to man!” he sat up proudly. “You want someone to forget lyrics? You’re looking at him. You want someone who falls on his butt? Me!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his words. He was far from clumsy, but his attempt to be relatable and make me feel better, well, it was kind of working.

“You’re good? You promise?” he asked again, double checking, rubbing my shoulder. I nodded my reassurances along with a smile.

“Good.” He whispered, nodding satisfied that I was okay. My eyes drifted to where his hand was still lingering on my shoulder, although now he’d stopped rubbing it. Han followed my gaze to where his hand rested, and for a moment it felt like time stood still. My heart stopped, my lungs weren’t working, and butterflies were starting to swirl around in my stomach. I could’ve sworn I saw longing in his eyes, and his breath catch in his throat. He abruptly came to his senses, quickly retracting his hand and nervously pushing his hair back.

“So,” he picked up his tea and blew on it before carefully taking a sip. “I take it you don’t live super close if you’re staying in a hotel?” he asked. “Wow! That is hot!” he gasped, referring to the tea, and quickly placed it back on the table.

“I guess not, I live about two hours from here. I could’ve driven home after the concert, but you know what?” I looked at Han “I wanted to just have a bit of a break. You know, from the real world. Just a couple of days.”

Han nodded approvingly. “I’d love to have a few days just for myself.” He gazed softly across the the room as though he was imagining what it’d be like to have time off to do whatever the hell he wanted.

“I take it you don’t get a lot of free time?” I asked curiously.

Han shook his head. “Nah," he paused momentarily and smiled. “but it’s all good. I certainly don’t have anything to complain about, that’s for sure.” It was as though he was trying to convince himself, more than me.

His demeanor seemed so bubbly and energetic, but as we talked there on the couch I could feel there was a lot more going on for him. It felt like underneath that happy, dorky young man there was something else, like something was missing. A sense of emptiness, perhaps? Sadness? Loneliness? I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but what I was quickly noticing was that Han, although he wanted to come across as carefree and fun, deep down he yearned for something. Whether that was more of something, less of something, or something different to what he currently had, I didn’t know.

“Are you okay, Han?” I asked seemingly breaking his thoughts.

The young man paused, considering my question. “Really. I don’t have anything to complain about.” He repeated, but his words sounded empty. “But lately I’ve been lonely. I mean, I have the guys, the staff,” he sighed. “But… I don’t know. I’m tired and I suppose, maybe, I need some newness in my life.” He nodded to himself thinking through what he had just said out loud. It seemed like he was processing his thoughts and speaking them out loud for the first time. “I feel like I need some respite. From everything.” He half smiled.

A pang of empathy rushed over me and without thinking I reached for his hand that was resting on his thigh and squeezed it tightly. For a long moment, Han studied my hand covering his, and sucked in his lip. Then he looked up locking eyes with me questioningly.

I thought there was no longer any oxygen left in the room. I didn’t even know if I’d even taken a breath for the past three minutes, and it seemed Han wasn’t breathing either. We were both frozen still. The only sign that we weren’t actually frozen in time was his expression as he searched my face, like he was silently asking me a million questions and trying to find the answers in my eyes.

“The tea is probably good to drink now.” He said, swallowing, not breaking eye contact.

“Yeah… the tea.” I acknowledged, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away either.

Han cupped my face with his other hand, causing me to finally remember how to exhale. With slightly parted lips and eyes that conveyed a glimmer of want, he glanced down at my mouth and subconsciously licked his lips. His eyes flickered back up to mine for a brief moment before returning them to my mouth as he slowly closed the space between our faces. He was merely inches away and I could feel his hot breath close to my skin. I wanted nothing more than to feel his breath directly against my mouth. I wanted his breath in my mouth. I wanted to taste him, and have his wet tongue slip inside me. I wanted his teeth to hungrily bite into my lip and then softly kiss away the pain.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed.

I bit my lip and nodded.

Han’s lips had barely even touched mine, but I could already feel the electricity shoot through my veins, making my body tingle. The butterflies in my stomach started to go berserk and I truly thought they’d make me float away if it weren’t for Han’s hand on my cheek.

He pulled away momentarily searching my eyes for permission to continue. I let go of his hand and slipped it around the back of his neck his skin hot and sweaty underneath my fingers. I needed to hold on for dear life if he was going to keep kissing me.

Our lips connected again, starting off slowly and carefully as though one of us would break if either of us moved too suddenly. His lips were soft and he tasted like mint. Did he brush his teeth before coming here? His hand slid from my cheek to my waist and in response I melted in closer to his body. Han took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, parting my mouth slightly so he could sneak his tongue inside to find mine. He moaned and peeled away again.

“Is this okay?” he panted, checking in with me.

“Yes, don’t stop” I begged, wrapping both my arms around the back of his neck and finding his mouth again with a sense urgency. My heart kicked up a notch when I felt his hand land firmly on my thigh, my skin burning from the touch. I dove my tongue into his mouth and his fingers squeezed the flesh of my leg as he let out a low groan.

My body was rapidly responding to the man that was kissing me. We were only kissing and I’d only just met him, but my core ached for more, my panties close to soaking. Han’s hand wasn’t far away from where I was craving to be touched. All he’d have to do was slide it up the inside of my leg and he’d be there.

I gripped his upper arm (the one attached to the hand on my leg), pulling him closer, encouraging him to keep going, inviting him to explore my body. His hand moved to the inside of my thigh, sending shivers up my leg all the way to where I wanted him most. He was setting me on fire and I whimpered with need.

Han heard my frustrated, pathetic cry. “Tell me what you need me to do.” He whispered huskily between kisses.

“Touch me, Han.” I breathed, and I reached down to touch his hand on my thigh. “Please.” My voice was barely audible.

He let out a shaky breath and looked down to where our hands were resting together on my thigh. My hand slid back up his arm to grip his bicep, and he slowly inched his fingers up the inside of my leg, his hungry eyes following his hand as it disappeared under my skirt.

“Han!” I gasped when his fingers reached my panties.

Han smirked as he pressed his finger against me. “Is this what you wanted?” His eyes were hooded and hazy with desire. I whimpered and nodded, parting my legs a little to give him more access. Han ran his finger along my underwear, grazing over my clitoris. “You’re soaking!” he sounded surprised. His fingers moved more hurriedly, finding the edge of my panties and pulling them to the side. “Kiss me.” He commanded and I smashed my mouth back onto his. He slid a finger through my wetness, rubbing it over my bare clit.

“Fuck!” I huffed. Then he sunk two fingers deep inside of me. My eyes rolled back from the relief of finally being filled making me throw my head back in pleasure. His hot, wet mouth moved to my neck, sucking and nibbling my skin as he started to move his fingers in and out of my pussy.

“You’re so wet, baby.” He cooed. “You really needed this, huh?”

“Mhh-hhm” was all I could manage. I had lost access to my vocabulary. All I could do was lose myself to Han and how incredible he felt.

“Sophie?” he kissed up the side of my neck and brought his mouth to my ear. “There’s something I want to try, if you’ll let me.”

“Yes, anything.” I panted. I didn’t care what he planned to do, I just wanted more of him.

Han removed his fingers from me and brought his glistening fingers up to his mouth and sucked my wetness off them. “You taste so good. I want to taste more of you.” He leaned his forehead on mine. “Will you let me?”

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

Han pov:

“Sophie?” Han kissed up the side of her neck and brought his mouth to her ear. “There’s something I want to try, if you’ll let me.”

“Yes, anything.” She panted. Her voice was husky and so fucking sexy.

He removed his fingers from her pussy and brought his glistening fingers up to his mouth to taste her wetness. “You taste so good. I want to taste more of you.” He leaned his forehead on hers. “Will you let me?”

Han could’ve just kept making out with Sophie, but he felt an uncontrollable urge to serve the woman in front of him. It had been so long since he felt the kind of nerves that came with desire, and it felt good to lose himself to whatever was unfolding. Even though he didn’t know her, the woman in front of him illuminated warmth and comfort, and understanding, and he wanted to envelope himself in her aura. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to please her. To satisfy her.

“Yes…please…” she purred, her neediness going straight to his already throbbing cock.

“Lean back for me, baby.” He breathed.

Sophie sank against the back of the couch, not taking her eyes off of him as he slid to the floor in front of her, pushing the coffee table away to make room.

Han’s hands trembled slightly as he undid the button on her skirt. He could’ve just slid it up around her waist, but he wanted the option to explore her body more easily. He slid both her skirt and soaked panties slowly down her legs and carefully put them to the side, then leaned in and kissed her mouth softly while his fingers gently dug into her hips. His lips tingled and his cock twitched as she deepened the kiss and slid her tongue into his mouth. Han felt his insides melt as his heart rate rose (and his dick getting even harder). He could kiss her forever.

They only had forty five minutes until they needed to be in the vans to head to the venue. That wasn’t nearly enough time. But the next forty five minutes were theirs, just theirs, and no one else’s. Part of him wanted to devour Sophie rough and urgently, but what he wanted more was to slowly savour every second, making the most of the little time they had.

A small whimper escaped Han as Sophie tried to pull his hips between her legs and kiss him more frantically. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. It was enough to spur him on. Han matched her intensity with the kiss before pulling himself away.

Sophie reached for the hem of her shirt.

“No, baby. Leave it on for me.” He panted. The thought of eating her out while she was wearing their band t shirt turned Han on more than he could imagine.

Sophie nestled back into the couch and opened her legs offering herself to him. Han met her eyes. They were looking at him longingly and beckoning him to come closer. Then he dropped his gaze to her slightly parted mouth. Her lips were silently begging him to ruin her. Then he allowed his gaze to drop all the way down to her centre, between her legs.

Fuck! Han subconsciously licked his lips as he took in her beauty. She was a goddess.

“Touch me Han.” Sophie panted.

It was all he needed to hear. He hooked his arms under her thighs and pressed his mouth against her pussy. Sophie gasped. Han groaned.

Han had only gone down on a woman a handful of times. It was always a rushed encounter, and he didn’t think he’d ever made a woman orgasm through oral sex either.

He realised that he might not be equipped to satisfy Sophie and that frightened him somewhat. He didn’t want to disappoint her. But he knew that he was great at improvising, he was after all one of the best freestyle rappers. He had a clever, talented mouth. He could learn as he goes.

Han carefully tuned into how Sophie responded to his ministrations.

He learned that she lets out shallow pants and whimpers if he used to tip of his tongue on her clitoris.

He learned she made long, low moans when he used the flat of his tongue to lick stripes up from her entrance all the way up to her sensitive nub.

He learned that she stilled in anticipation when used his hands to spread her lips with his fingers.

And he learned that she rocked her hips when he slid his tongue inside of her while rubbing her clit in firm, fast circles.

Han never knew that anything could taste this good. He felt like a starving man who had been offered the most scarce delicacy in the world and he was trying not to consume it too fast.

He’d never had anyone respond to his touch like Sophie was either. She was hot and wet, and when he stole glances of her face her cheeks were flushed and her eyes unfocused.

Han wanted to worship this woman.

“Sophie, baby. I want to put my fingers inside you again.” He said “tell me how you’d like me to do it.” Han didn’t want to undo all his good work with clumsy finger fucking.

Sophie looked dazed but managed to find her words.

“I like two.” She said through a ragged breath. “Palm facing up.” She added. Han licked two of his fingers and brought them to her entrance. “And.. could you keep using your mouth too?”

He slid two fingers into her vagina as he sucked and licked her clit firmly. Then he began to gently thrust his fingers in and out of her in rhythm with his tongue.

She was so wet that his fingers slid easily, and the wet sounds of him fucking her with his fingers made his cock ache. Han couldn’t help but imagine his cock inside her. He could tell it was swollen and in need of a release. He knew there’d be pre-cum leaking into his boxers. He tried to concentrate on bringing Sophie to the edge, but his mind kept thinking about her wet, tight walls squeezing his cock.

“Han?” Fuck, his name sounded so fucking hot coming out of her mouth. “Han…please… I’m close”.

Han registered Sophie’s words, and it was enough to push the thoughts of being buried inside her away.

“Yes baby…tell me what you need me to do.” Han encouraged her to guide him.

“Curl your fingers… push up…into…against the front of my body…keep sucking my clit”. She managed between groans.

Han did exactly what she asked. He curled his fingers and began to thrust them the way she'd described. He could feel the flesh there had a different texture, and he focused his attention there. He used his mouth with a renewed vigour.

Sophie was coming undone. Her hips started to buck against his hand, and she was getting louder as she was getting closer. Her legs began to shake and her back arch.

“I’m coming. Don’t stop.” She said and threw her head back. Her whole body tensed and stilled, but Han could feel her walls squeeze and then pulse around his fingers. He supported her through her orgasm and eventually her body melted back into the couch and he removed his fingers.

It was the most incredible thing Han had ever witnessed. Again, he was overcome with the urge to lick her wetness off his fingers. So he did. He wanted to remember this taste forever.

Sophie sat up and cupped Han’s face in her hands. She looked freshly fucked and so gorgeous. Her cheeks were pink. Her lips were full. Her eyes warm and happy.

Han couldn’t help himself and pulled her in for a sloppy kiss.

“That was so good, Han.” She grinned like a drunk fool. It made Han’s heart burst.

“You were so perfect, Sophie”. Han whispered.

——--------------

After they had both calmed down and their heart rates had returned to normal, Han realised that they only had 15 minutes to get down to the cars that were taking them to the venue.

Panic set in as they scrambled to get dressed, tidy their hair, compose themselves and get where they needed to be.

But they made it with 2 minutes to spare.

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

Sophie pov

Before I knew it I was seated in the arena with the perfect view of the extended stage. The atmosphere was buzzing as Stay were getting excited. Before the show I was able to get a behind the scenes glimpse into what goes into a production like this. It was fascinating and I felt grateful for the opportunity to see how it all came together. Sitting next to me were two young women, probably around nineteen, and they started chatting to me.

“This is SO exciting!!! How long have you been a Stay?” the black haired girl asked me. I was embarrassed to admit it had only been a few months.

“Oh so you’re a Baby Stay?” the lighter haired girl said excitedly, and leaned forward. “Do you have a bias?” she asked wiggling her eyebrows. What the hell was I supposed to say? Did I have a bias? “Kind of?” I squeaked. “What about you?” I quickly deflected the question.

“Jisung.” The black haired girl cooed, closing her eyes, imagining her bias.

“Oh!” I choked and cleared my throat. “Yeah, I like him too.” I said smiling. I wonder if she’s imagined him between her legs? How many people in this room have visualised him doing all sorts of obscene things to them? Oh god Sophie, stop. Just stop. Focus.

I watched Han as he performed their stages. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Everything he did on stage was magic. Whether he was rapping, singing like an angel, or being a goof-ball during the intermissions, he was captivating. Stay loved his sense of humour and listened intently as he told us about going to the pool with Lee Know and just walking around in the water because he can’t swim.

Han didn’t really search for me in the audience, instead focusing all his attention on performing for their fans. Muddy Water was next, which meant that Han and just three other members were going to wander around the second stage in a less structured and choreographed way. I knew it was going to be a treat. Han fucking Jisung looked so god damned hot strutting around that stage. All of them did. When it was his turn to rap, I could really hear how skilled, smooth and talented his mouth was, and what it’d be like to have him rap in my ear in his bedroom voice. I couldn’t help but think about that mouth between my legs only hours before, giving me the best orgasm of my life.

Oh God it was the best orgasm of my life. I felt an ache between my legs and a moistness developing. Surely I’m not the only one here horny in this place? I crossed my legs and ignored the pressure that was building.

Shaking my head to jolt myself back to reality, I looked up at the stage to see Han had stopped in front of me and was making eye contact with some of the nearby fans. His eyes found mine and he smirked and brought two fingers, the two that were inside me earlier, up to his mouth and licked them, then winked at me. The horror on my face made him laugh as he continued to wander the stage.

It was quite a flurry after the show. I was ushered backstage where I met Han in a corridor.

“What did you think? Did you have fun? What was your favourite part?” he bombarded me enthusiastically with questions.

“It was fucking amazing! All of it!” I squealed excitedly. Han beamed at me, “and your favourite part?” he looked at me devilishly.

“Ummm…” I thought for a moment. “The part where Chan lifts his shirt in Charmer.” I teased. Han’s face turned to feigned disapproval, like I was a traitor.

“Okay, okay…” I laughed. “I really loved it when you hit the high notes in Hellevator.”

Han looked proud and happy. “Was that the only part you liked?”

What was he pushing for? Oh. I realised what he was hinting at. “Yes, yes… In Muddy Water you reminded a fan of something you are very good at doing.” I stated coolly, but I felt like I was going red.

Han grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Did I?” he said pretending he had no idea what I was talking about.

“Hannie!” a voice interrupted. We turned to see Chan ushering us into a room.

“Come, join us Sophie.” Han gestured for me to lead the way.

I entered a rather large, unremarkable space, much like a conference room. Several black couches were positioned around the room, and there were so many people chatting excitedly. I assumed they were staff of some sort. The room smelled of sweat and deodorant and although I knew the air conditioner would be cranking, it wasn’t enough to cut through how hot the night was. I was sweating too, the thick band tshirt clinging to my skin. My makeup had probably melted off long ago. I felt so un-sexy.

“Come meet some of the guys.” Han said, holding my elbow and guiding me over to the right side of the room. “This is Lee Know.”

Sitting on the black leather couch in front of me was the most intimidating man I had ever seen. He wordlessly glared at Han as if to say “How fucking dare you bring a woman home.” Han made an innocent face, and blinked his big gorgeous doe-eyes that said “I haven’t done anything wrong… Can we keep her?”

I stood there awkwardly. Is MInsung really a thing? They both looked at me and burst out laughing. “Come on Hyung, we are not on stage anymore!” Han whined. Lee Know’s face softened and he bowed his head, greeting me politely. “Hello, nice to meet you. Did you have a nice night?” Lee Know smiled. Maybe he wasn’t as intimidating as I first thought. Just a man of few words.

Han continued to introduce me to the other members and some of their staff. Everyone was really polite, and I wondered how often they see this situation. Does Han find a girl in every city?

“Would you like a drink? Are you thirsty?” Han pointed to a table with bottles of water. He opened a bottle before handing it to me, and grabbed one for himself. I was so parched that I had already nearly finished the bottle by the time we sat down on one of the couches.

Han grinned at me sheepishly. “You know, Sophie… I have a secret.” He leaned in close “You know when I licked my fingers in Muddy Water?” I felt my skin burn up at the memory. “I could still taste you.”

I felt my stomach drop and arousal hit me like a flash flood. My vagina clenched with need. Why did he have to say that? I looked away only to lock eyes on the beauty that was Hyunjin. He was sitting on a nearby couch watching us curiously. The look in his eyes made me feel like he was reading my mind and that he knew exactly what Han had just said and what he was referring to, even though he wasn’t even in earshot. He parted his mouth and his tongue slid slightly along his lip like he was concentrating on something really hard.

I swallowed and tore my eyes away, preferring to stare at the floor instead.

“You don’t think I’m weird do you?” Han whispered. I lifted my head to look at him. He looked worried.

Embarrassed, I smiled and shook my head. “No… it was kind of… hot.” I admitted.

“Excuse me…sorry.” A middle aged woman politely interrupted. I was relieved. She had perfect timing. “We are taking you back to the hotel now.” My heart dropped. Already? I snapped my head back to Han. He looked crestfallen. Did it feel too soon for him too?

“I’ll walk her out to the car.” He insisted. The woman bowed and nodded.

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

Han walked with me along corridor that led to where the vehicles were waiting. I couldn’t believe this was over already. We walked in silence. Each step we took was a step closer to goodbye. I fucking hated it. We had almost reached the exit door, when Han suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me through a side door and into a some sort of dimly lit storage room.

“I didn’t really think that’d be unlocked.” He said surprised, referring to the door.

“Han what are you doing? The car… it’s waiting for me.” I protested.

“I need to kiss you… feel you… one more time.” He purred.

Han gently pushed me against the wall, pressing his body against me and moaning low. His hands slowly roamed my body. His lips found mine. Oh god I wanted him. I wanted him to take me then and there. My heart pounded, my body silently screamed for him. I pulled his hips hard against me so I could feel how much he wanted me too.

I peeled my mouth away from his, but his lips landed on my neck, making me swoon. “I have to go…” I whimpered. Every part of me wanted him to ignore my words and keep me there longer.

“I wish you didn’t have to go.” He panted and pressed his head against mine. “I could just take you right here… right now… if you wanted me to. Do you want me to, baby?”

We looked into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity as we silently considered how possible, how easy it would really be for him to hike my skirt up and slip himself inside of me.

“I want you to…” I whispered. Han exhaled and his hand flew to the button on his jeans. Adrenaline coursed through me as my body anticipated what was about to happen.

“Hey are you in here!?” a deep voice said as the door flew open, startling us.

“God. S-ssorry…” It was Felix. “Guys… Um…they’re asking if you still need a lift, Sophie.” Felix eyes were everywhere but on us.

Han looked at me sadly. “Yeah. I’ll walk her out. Just give me second.” He said solemnly, adjusting his crotch to try and hide his erection.

This time, Han really did walk me to the car. I felt heavy. I wanted to cry. I wanted to cling onto him. I didn't want this to end.

Han apoligised to the driver saying he was to blame, not me, for making them wait.

“Bye Sophie.” He said as I stepped into the van and took my seat.

As I was driven away, Han didn’t move to go back inside. He just stood there watching the van drive away. I watched him too, for as I could, before the van turned the corner and I could no longer see him.

It was over.

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

I got back to the hotel and had a long, hot shower (even though the night was stinking hot). Today had been like a dream. From running into 3Racha this morning, to having Han Jisung going down on me, to the incredible VIP treament in at the concert, to almost having sex with him in a storage room. If only Felix hadn’t barged in, I would have been able to feel him inside of me.

I sighed deeply, as the water washed any trace of Han off my skin. My mind flashed to Han watching me drive away earlier that night. Today would be hard to get over. I felt a pang in my chest.

Don't you dare get sad.

I slid into bed and pulled out a drawstring bag from the side table and shimmied off my panties. Today might be hard to get over, but I was still horny. I pulled out my small bullet vibrator. I let my mind drift off with thoughts of Han Jisung standing nervously in my hotel room. Han Jisung holding me close, kissing my body as he made his way down to the place he drove me wild. Han Jisung's fingers inside of me. Han Jisung on stage. Han Jisung fucking me in a storage room. Han Jisung knocking on my door.

Han Jisung knocking on my door?

My eyes flicked open as I registered the tiny knock on the hotel room door.

What the fuck? The intrusion scared me, my heart almost flung out of my chest, pumping adrenaline through my veins. There is no way this could possibly be -

I tossed the toy on the bed, padded to the door and cracked it open.

It was Han fucking Jisung.

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

The feelings that came over me when I saw Han standing there freshly washed and in a new set of sweatpants and hoodie, was hard to describe. There was this dull ache in my chest that resembled angst and heartbreak, but also a tension that flooded south to my core.

It was like a longing. Longing to be close to him. Fuck my body absolutely craved him. But there was also a knowing. Knowing deep down this probably wasn’t a good idea. There was a chance I’d let my heart get in the way and I would then have to get over him. He would be long gone in a couple of days.

Who was I kidding? My heart was already in it and I would have to get over it, regardless of whether I let him in or turn him away.

You should turn him away. For your own good, Sophie.

I don’t want to turn him away.

I didn’t have the courage to look at his face. I just kept my gaze somewhere chest level, but I knew he was watching me. I could feel his eyes burning into my skin, and I knew if I dared look, I’d see want in his eyes.

I didn’t need to look.

I couldn’t bare to look.

The tension was so thick I thought I was going to choke.

Neither of us had said a word yet. We both knew what he was asking by simply being at my door. We both knew what it would mean if I let him in.

You shouldn’t let him in, Sophie. It’ll only lead to heartache.

I want to let him in.

I swallowed a lump in my throat and slowly, bravely, met his eyes.

I shouldn’t have looked.

Longing. Hope. Desire. Hunger. Sadness. How could eyes convey so many emotions all at once? And how could eyes look so fucking beautiful?

My body felt like it was melting, like he had some fucking lasers coming out him or something, and I was about to become a puddle on the floor.

Despite my brain screaming that this was a bad idea, I stepped back and opened the door, making space for him to pass through.

Still a word had not been spoken.

My heart kicked up a beat as I pushed the door closed, and I rested my head momentarily on the door frame.

You’ve let him in.

I’ll take my chances.

It was lucky I took a second to ground myself, because when I turned around Han was on me. His mouth smashed against mine in a messy, feral kiss, and his hands gripped the sides of my waist to push me back against the door.

He’d already lost his hoodie and was now in a singlet tee. I ran my hands up his arms, over his toned muscles, then I slid them down his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles tense under my touch. His skin felt electric under my fingertips sending shocks through my body.

He slowed down to caress me gently. His hand brushed my cheek and he planted hot, breathy kisses on my neck. His hard cock pressed against me, making me ache for him. It was almost unbearable.

“I had to come, Sophie.” He panted. “I couldn’t just end things like that.” Referring to earlier at the concert venue. “I hope it’s okay, baby… I want you so fucking badly.”

“I want you too.” I whispered, tugging gently at his elastic waistband. A choked whimper escaped him when my hand gripped his cock and released it from his pants.

He was rock hard, and as I explored it with my hand, I could feel that it was already leaking. He was about to find out that I was leaking too.

Han’s hand dropped from my waist to reach under the hem of my short nightshirt and slid its way up between my thighs to find my bare pussy. I let out a sharp exhale at the touch. My body absolutely craved him. Han hissed through his teeth from the unexpected access, and leaned close to my ear.

“You’re such a bad girl,” he whispered low “I like it.” And he parted my lips with his finger and slid it roughly back and forth over my clitoris, as he buried his face in my neck.

“Fuck! You’re so wet baby!” Han sounded incredulous as he explored my lips, my clitoris, and teased the entrance to my vagina.

I really do love it when he calls me baby.

I started to writhe against him. I wanted to make him hungrier. I wanted him to snap. I wanted him to ruin me.

“It’s for you, Han.” I confessed, as I tried to guide his cock between my thighs.

He reached his hands under my thighs and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pinned me hard against the hotel door.

I held on for dear life, my arms around his neck, as the tip of his cock brushed against my entrance. It was so incredibly close, but not quite where we needed it to be. It was pure agony for both of us.

Frustrated, and desperate, Han swiveled his hips in such a way that it only took a moment to line himself up.

I ached for him to be inside me, and we both gasped when the tip of his cock slipped inside.

Han stopped still. He glanced down at where we were barely connected, and then looked back up at me questioningly. It was like he was running through some internal dialogue, some sort of inner conflict, and he was frozen.

“This is okay, right?” he said searching my face. “Cos I want you so bad, Sophie.”

“Fuck, yes…please.”

He pressed his cheek against mine, inhaled deeply, and sank me down onto his length in one motion, until he was buried all the way inside of me. We both sighed in relief and the stretch felt excruciatingly delicious.

Then he started to fuck me. He needed the friction. I needed the sharp jolts of his powerful thrusts. His hips slamming into me at a relentless pace, like some wild beast.

Han fucking Jisung was inside my hotel room.

Han Fucking Jisung was inside of me!

“I was going to go slow…” he panted as he hammered into me “I promised myself I was…but I couldn’t stop myself…I can’t hold back…” he said breathlessly. “There’s just too much…feeling… so much… I…don’t know the words…” he trailed off as he vigorously worked his hips.

He didn’t need his words though. I knew what he meant. It was like the the desire…the need… was so strong and so…visceral…that we just might lose our minds if we didn’t get it out of our bodies. And the only way to rid ourselves from that feeling was to meet it with this hot, burning release.

“I want to make love to you after this…let me stay the night…can I… can I stay…?… you feel so hot…and tight…” he choked.

His words were my undoing.

He wants to stay?

This isn’t going to be the only time?

We’re going to have sex again!

He wants to ‘make love to me’?

Knowing that I didn’t need to hold onto this moment forever, knowing that we had all night, my body let go completely and I slipped over the edge. I felt like I had been kicked in the guts and thrown off a cliff. I held on tighter to Han to try and slow the fall.

“Come inside me, Han…I need you to co-.." I didn’t finish my sentence. Han’s hips had become erratic and a stifled whimper came from him as he reached his own climax.

“Baby…” He panted as he slowed down. “How can something feel that good?” he chuckled.

Then, with him still inside me, Han took us over to the bed, gently laying us down on the mattress. He hovered over me and kissed me as he pulled out and collapsed by my side, pulling me against him. I could feel his semen leaking out of me, sticking to my inner thigh. But I didn’t care. As far as I was concerned it was part of Han, and I wanted him to completely own me.

“Sophie, baby?” Han said finally.

“Mmm hmm.?”

Han propped himself up on an elbow and searched my face, tenderly brushing some hair out of my eyes. He looked contemplative, but he still had that hope in his expression.

“Can I really spend the night with you?”

I broke out I a smile. “Of course. You know, Han, I’d say yes to anything to you asked.” It was true too. This man could ask absolutely anything and I’d say yes.

The thought scared me.

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

I reached up and traced my thumb along Han’s bottom lip. Han fucking Jisung had the most perfectly plush, perfectly shaped, perfectly pink lips. They were wildly talented too, in so many ways. He had certainly shown me that today. But there was something I hadn’t seen yet. Not up close anyway. I had this secret “thing” for something he did when he rapped, where he pulled the corner of his top lip up in what can only be described as a -

“Snarl for me Han.” I demanded. “You know… like when you’re rapping.”

Han’s eyes widened in surprise, then his features softened momentarily before he narrowed his eyebrows in an expression of "you naughty girl.”

“Okay… but I have to do it rapping.” He said and sat himself up to kneel on the bed about to prepare himself for a private performance.

“Wait!” I sat up suddenly too, and kneeled in front of him reaching for his shirt. Han followed his gaze to where my hand grabbed onto the fabric.

“I want you completely naked first.” I stared at him dead seriously. Han’s mouth fell open.

“Oh you are a bad girl.” He was trying to sound dark and sexy, but he couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice. He sounded thrilled that he was about to be naked and began lifting his shirt.

But I tugged his hands away and shook my head. “I want to undress you.” I whispered. Han was frozen to the spot except to open his mouth to speak, and when he realised no words would come out, he simply nodded vigorously.

I took my time lifting his shirt, slowly revealing his slim waist and bellybutton, his hard abdominal muscles, then his chest and nipples. A shaky exhale escaped me as I pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it to the side. Han didn’t move, his eyes just followed my hands as I let them roam his bare upper body, dragging my thumb across a pink nipple and leaning in to graze my tongue over the other.

My other hand explored the peaks and valleys of his abs as it made it’s way down to waistband of his sweatpants.

“Stand at the edge of the bed.” I directed Han to stand up so I could remove his sweatpants.

I couldn’t hide the lust in my eyes as I bit my lip. A naked Han Jisung standing before me and about to give me a private show. Han Jisung following my instructions. Something was triggered in me. Whatever it was made me want to demand naughty things of him. It made me to want to deny him just to make him beg. It made me want to be mean just so I could make it better again.

But the feeling was fleeting, and left just as quickly as it arrived when Han spoke.

“So…what is the lovely lady’s request?”

“Hmmm…” what to ask for? “What about… Venom?” I sat back on the bed as Han proceeded to perform for me, showing off that ‘snarl’ I loved as much as possible.

As he was rapping I knelt on the mattress and slowly lifted my nightshirt, revealing my breasts. Han stumbled on his lines as he took in the sight of them for the first time. Then I tossed the shirt to the side.

“Continue.” I instructed.

He moved on from Venom to then demonstrate dance moves like the ‘Poppin’ part of Maniac, which now that I had seen in this context, could never be unseen again.

It all finished in a fit of laughter from both of us as the performances got less and less serious and more about making me cringe.

His finale was taking a run up and landing face down on the bed.

“Owww!!!” he cried and lifted his head. “What was that?”

He picked up the item that had assaulted him when he landed on the mattress and looked at it quizzically, and held it up for inspection.

My bullet vibrator.

Han pushed the button on the side and the unmistakable buzzing sound began pulsing from the device.

“Who are you?” He said looking up at me wide eyed and mouth open.

I smirked. “Well I thought I’d need it after going to a Stray Kids concert. Apparently those guys dance pretty raunchy.” I winked at him.

Han chuckled and turned the vibrator off, which took some time for him to figure out. “So…any other surprises?” he asked cheekily raising his eyebrows up and down.

I sucked in my lips and looked up at the ceiling. “Well…” I hesitated as I considered showing him my other items I kept in my drawstring bag.

“I have these.” I took the bag from the bedside table, loosened the strings and tipped the contents out on the bed in front of Han.

His eyes bulged as he registered what was in front of him. One slimline black vibrator dildo, a second bullet vibrator, and two butt plugs - one black, the other with a white fluffy tail attached, and a little bottle of lube.

“I like options.” I offered as an explanation of why I needed more of one kind of toy.

“You certainly do!” he gasped as he picked up the black dildo and admired its curves and texture.

As Han curiously experimented with the settings, I let my eyes drift down his body. His shoulders and back were muscular and sinewy. I needed to run my nails down that back later. His hips were slim and perfect for wrapping my legs around. I’d already done that, but the thought of doing that again made my heart beat faster.

Then my eyes landed on his round, pert ass.

Oh my God. I have to touch it.

My legs felt like they had a life of their own as they crawled me closer to sit by his side, and my hands moved of their own accord as I firmly grabbed one, meaty cheek and squeezed it in my hand.

“Hey! That’s my butt!” Han squealed and looked back at me in surprise.

I stared back at him, not attempting to move my hand at all.

“Don’t stop.” He added and went back to exploring my sex toys.

I alternated between squeezing and massaging one cheek, then moved onto the other. His ass looked scrumptious. Perfectly perky, but squishy enough to sink my fingers around. I knew why people refer to an ass as ‘buns’, because Han’s looked like two perfectly baked bread buns.

I growled and smacked him on the left cheek, finishing with a hungry squeeze.

Han gasped. I repeated the action. It just felt so satisfying. Then I did the same on the other cheek. I followed up with a gentle rub of the area I just slapped.

Han started responding with little gasps and his hips began to grind into the bed. When I paused he whimpered and wiggled his ass at me.

He likes this.

I felt encouraged to continue and that feeling I had earlier of wanting to be mean, making him beg and me being in control came back to the forefront. I wanted to make his cheeks burn red and and make him wait for permission to touch himself, or touch me, or to come. I wanted him to whimper and beg for relief.

“Do you like this baby?” I cooed and my hand landed down on his skin in a loud slap.

Han shuddered. “Yes..” He panted. “It feels… so good… please… don’t stop.”

I massaged the red skin, soothing it momentarily before spanking it again. Han’s breaths were becoming louder and more laboured as I increased the intensity of each slap. His hips desperately pressed into the bed for friction.

I want to wreck him.

I glanced back up towards Han’s head, he had the fluffy tail plug in his hand, his fingers stroking the long white furry tail and staring at it longingly.

I smirked. I knew what I wanted to do. “You like that toy do you, baby?” I leaned down and kissed his butt cheek. It took all my effort not to sink my teeth into the flesh.

What is happening to me?

Where are these urges coming from?

“Does Han want me to share my toy with him?” I held my breath. Was this too much? Had I gone too far? Would he leave?

Han nodded. “Hannie wants...” He whispered.

Hannie? He was calling himself in the third person.

I carefully took the plug from him, and the lube, applying a generous amount the to the steel plug. This toy was new. I admired the long white fluffy tail attached to a vibrating silver bullet. It would look so good with Han’s ass.

Straddling his thighs I realised I had no idea what I was doing. I had never touched a man’s asshole before, let along insert something. But there was no backing out. Han had given up on the rest of my toys. They’d been pushed aside. The side of his face was buried into the mattress, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of his head. His hips still wiggling in frustration.

“Patience, Hannie.” I said.

I placed one hand on his cheek, pushing it to the side so I could find my target. Then I turned the vibrator on and placed the tip on his rim. Han sucked his breath in at the contact, then relaxed into the bed as I gently massaged him with the tip.

I wasn’t sure when I should apply more pressure. What if I actually hurt him? But the sounds he was making, the beautiful, needy moans, prompted me to push the tip in slightly.

Han let out a long, deep, relieving moan at the stretch. The plug wasn’t all that thick or long, it was dainty, and I wondered if maybe I should just push it in all the way.

“Hannie? Do you think you can take the rest?” I asked gently.

“Fuck… yes… just put it in.” He sounded frustrated.

I pushed the plug in all the way and turned the vibration up to full.

“Yes… fuck… yes… baby…” Han was writhing underneath me, but he couldn’t do much while I was still straddling his thighs.

I simultaneously massaged both Han’s cheeks roughly, pulling them apart on each circle, eliciting a sharp breath from him each time I did it.

I was so fucking turned on I could feel the wetness between my legs.

“Hannie,” I said crawling up to meet his face with mine. “Can you put this one in me?” I held out the little black butt plug and offered it to him.

I positioned myself on all fours, while Han knelt behind me.

“Here, baby, put some lube on it first.” I instructed. Han didn’t look like he was alert at all.

I heard a squeeze of lube, presumably on the plug, and then cold lube being smeared on my entrance. Then I felt the vibration against me. I was so ready, so aroused, so desperate that I began to back myself onto the vibrating plug. The stretch burned, but eased quickly, and it was only a moment later that it was snugly inside of me. The vibrations pulsed through entire pelvis and causing my whole body to shake.

But I needed more.

And so did Han.

I felt the head of his cock push against me, trying to squeeze inside. But I was tight. As the tip stretched me open, both of us gasped.

“You’re so tight with that in there.” He growled. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

I whined in frustration. “Just fuck me already, Han.” And I pushed back hard against him as he pushed equally as hard into me.

I felt so filled up, so stretched, and so stimulated that I knew this wouldn’t last long.

“I...I c..can feel the vibrations through your walls.” Han exclaimed. I could only imagine what Han must be feeling, with the vibrator inside of him sending shivers through his body, to having his cock being squeezed in my tight, clenching and vibrating vagina.

I lost all sense of myself as Han fucked me for the second time. I forgot my name, where I was, everything. Everything except how good it felt to have Han fucking Jisung inside me, ruining me, owning me, and taking me to ecstasy.

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

Han pov.

Han laid on his back panting. He had just had his mind blown to oblivion. His brain tried desperately to catch up with what had just transpired. He’d never shown a woman that side of himself before. The side that liked to be submissive. He’d never had a women play with his ass like that either.

Sophie leaned over him and kissed his neck. “I’ll be right back.” She cooed bringing him back to reality.

She quickly checked her phone then placed it back on the bedside table and disappeared into the bathroom.

Han’s eyes gravitated to the phone. The screen hadn’t locked yet. His brain started to kick into overdrive. Could he? Should he? Before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed her phone and opened the contacts.

Then he selected “Create a New Contact.” He stared at the screen.

What the fuck do you think you’re doing Jisung? He said to himself. But his fingers kept going as he entered the name Han Jisung. Then he typed in his number.

Really, what the fuck are you doing, you idiot?

Then, he phoned the number letting the call connect. Lastly, Han went to the recent call log and deleted the phone call he just made.

This is a bad idea.

He heard Sophie exiting the bathroom, and he quickly put the phone back where she’d left it.

She slipped back into bed laying herself against his side and placed a leg across his stomach. Han turned his head to kiss her, his hand resting on her thigh. She was so soft, warm, safe.

He’d wanted to go slow. That’s what he’d decided when he made his way to her door earlier. He wanted to take his time with her. He wanted to remember every moment - every sigh, every whimper, every quiver of her muscles. He wanted to look into her eyes while he slowly fucked her.

But this was good too. More than good. This was the best sex he’d ever had. He grinned. He still wanted to... make love... to her though. Why do those words keep popping in his head? Oh why had he said that out loud to her before? MAKE LOVE? He covered his eyes with his free hand. How fucking cringe.

He stole a glance at Sophie, worried she might be reading his mind, but she had dozed off, her breath had settled into a calm and steady rhythm.

Han let himself settle into the bed and drift off to sleep too. In the back of his mind he remembered what she’d said earlier that day. “This is my humble abode for the next day or two.” Did that mean she would be still here tomorrow night?

Could he see her again?

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

Han squinted as he opened his eyes to the glaring morning sun streaming through the crack in the blinds.

Where the fuck am I? He rubbed his eyes as the memory of last night’s events came back to him.

He registered the limbs that were wrapped around his body, and sighed in relief. It was real. It wasn’t a dream, he thought as he turned his gaze to the woman in his arms. Fast asleep. She must have tired herself out, he chuckled to himself and stroked her hair, moving it out of her face.

Sophie was older than he was, he was sure. A Noona. He wondered how old she was. Thirty maybe? It didn’t matter though, did it? This could never go anywhere anyway. All Han knew for sure was that he lost his capacity for commonsense and self-control when he was near her.

His muscles tensed as the goddess wrapped around him stirred and eventually opened her bleary eyes.

“Hey, baby.” He whispered. Sophie blinked several times to wake herself up properly, then leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. Han’s skin burned at the touch and a warmth spread from his chest to the rest of his body. Imagine waking up to someone like this everyday? He pushed that thought away immediately. He had another concert to think about.

Shit, the concert. Fuck, what time was it?

Panicked, Han glanced around the room trying to locate his pants where he kept his phone. “What time is it?” he cried.

“10 o’clock.” Sophie answered looking at her phone.

“Fuck!” He sprang out of bed, scrambling for his clothes. Frantically he searched his pockets and eventually pulled out his phone.

10 missed calls. Fuck, he was in trouble. He unlocked his phone to see who exactly had been calling him. Five calls from Chan, 4 from Changbin and one from…and one from… He remembered what he had done last night.

Guilt replaced the panic that Han was feeling, and as he dressed he peeked over at Sophie who was sitting propped up on the bed watching him with a worried expression. It was a bad idea to have her number. It was a bad idea to leave the door of possibility open.

“Sophie?” He said “I have to go. I’m late.” He choked and gestured at his phone.

Sophie nodded in understanding and smiled, but Han didn’t miss the solemn expression that appeared for just a fraction of a second.

He felt like he’d been kicked in the guts and his eyes began to prickle. His mind, his fight or flight response, the adrenalin coursing through him, they were all screaming at him to hurry the fuck up and get where he supposed to be.

But his heart, his fucking heart, rooted him to the spot, paralysing him.

Sophie bit her lip and looked at him with hazy eyes, and Han felt like he was being magnetised towards her. It was like something in her had reached out and grabbed onto his heart and was literally pulling him to her.

He didn’t know how, but the next thing he knew he was sitting by her on the bed, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her like his life depended on it. They explored each other’s mouths, their tongues dancing together, trying to memorise the feeling and the taste. He felt himself getting hard again.

Sophie reached down towards Han’s rapidly growing erection with one hand, her other hand cupped his cheek “Can I take care of you first?” She gazed at him longingly.

“Baby… I’m not sure there’s time…I’m going to need to be quick…” Sophie put a finger to his mouth to sush him.

“I want to take care of you… will you let me?” Han’s heart began to pound. How could he say no? He wanted to stay for as long as possible. He wanted to stay forever. He wanted to forget about commitments, schedules and work. He was tired. He was lonely. He needed connection outside of his band mates.

Han nodded. It was all he could do. Despite knowing that he should have already left, Han stood next to the bed while Sophie made quick work of undoing his pants.

“You shouldn’t have bothered getting dressed.” She teased, freeing his cock.

Han knew he didn’t have the biggest or thickest dick in the world, but he knew it was pretty. Well as pretty as cocks could be, and he loved the way Sophie’s eyes widened as she admired it hungrily.

All thought left him when she took him in her hand and licked the leaking pre-cum from his tip.

“Fuck, Baby!” He hissed in surprise.

Sophie looked up at him. “Use me.” She said. Han blinked. “Fuck my face…Do it how it feels good for you…I want to take care of you… I know you need to be quick…Please...I want to take it. I trust you.” The last part was whispered.

Sophie opened her mouth for Han’s cock, locking her eyes on his has he sank himself into her mouth.

“Fuck!” He sucked in a sharp breath.

Sophie giggled around his dick sending shivers through Han’s entire body. Her mouth felt so good that he couldn’t hold back even if he wanted to, and he began thrusting himself in and out of her mouth fast.

Her eyes watered as he assaulted the back of her throat. For a split second he worried that he was too much, that he was going too hard, but when she reached around to cup his ass and pull him in deeper into her mouth, he let go completely, ramming himself into her with abandon before releasing himself down her throat.

Han pulled out and knelt down on the floor in front of Sophie bringing her in for a kiss. He needed to kiss her. He needed to be close to her. He didn’t even care that she hadn’t completely finished swallowing his cum and that he could taste it in her mouth.

“Baby…” Han reluctantly broke the kiss. “Did I hear you right, you will still be here tonight?” he said hopefully.

Sophie brushed the hair out of his eyes. “Yes, Han. I’ll still be here tonight.”

Han’s breath hitched at the possibility of seeing her again, but then he remembered. He had commitments after the show, and he didn’t know how long that would take.

“Sophie, baby… I really wanna see you again tonight.” He kissed her cheek, then nibbled her ear, drawing a slight shiver from her. “Could I? Would it be okay?” His hand explored her stomach and drifted up to cup her breast. Sophie leaned into him humming in approval. “Yes, Han… You still have to make love to me remember.” She grinned sheepishly.

“Oh you heard me say that huh?” He said, turning beet red.

“Mmm. I did… it made me come… actually.” It was Sophie’s turn to burn red.

Han raised an eyebrow “Really?” he was surprised. He was convinced she’d think it was cheesy. Then for another long moment he kissed her again.

“Hey…” His tone turned serious.

“I have to do some things…after the show… and I’m not sure how late I will get here. But I’ll come. I promise. I just don’t know how what time it will be… I hope…”

“Han!” Sophie took his face in her hands. “It’s okay. I’ll wait for you.” She beamed that beautiful warm smile, and Han felt himself relax.

She stood up and climbed off the bed and Han drank in her naked form as she sauntered over to the coffee table.

“Here.” She held out a keycard for the hotel room. “They gave me two of these at check in…” She trailed off, handing him the card.

Han looked at the rectangle piece of plastic in his hand, and then looked at Sophie with a hopeful gaze.

“Just let yourself in when you get here.”

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

Sophie pov.

I didn’t tell Han that I was going to the concert that night. I didn’t want to give him the chance to offer me special treatment, or take more of his attention when he needed to focus on his actual job. I imagined the disapproving glares I would have got from his fellow band members when they realised that I was the reason Han was late to his schedule.

No today I would stay out of his way.

After Han left, I went back to bed for a bit longer to try and get a little more sleep, but the events of last night kept running over and over through my head. That was so wild. It seemed that Han fucking Jisung knew how to unlock parts of me that I never knew were locked up!

I reached down between my thighs and touched myself. I was slightly tender, and the contact from my fingers sent a shiver through me. He felt so perfect inside me. It sounded so cliche but it was as if he was made for me.

What am I saying? Of course he isn’t made for me! He lives in another country. He is far too young for me. He’s a fucking idol for Christ's sake!

I let out a big, loud sigh. Get up, Sophie. Pull yourself together.

I gathered the used toys and went into to the bathroom to clean them up. A smirk plastered on my face as I washed the silver-fluffy-tail plug, carefully holding the fluffy tail out the water. Han Jisung you are going to be a hard man to forget.

——

The day passed so painfully slow. Every time I thought I was distracted, my mind would either wander to the activities of last night, or to the possibilities of what was to come later that night.

Those thoughts were okay. It was the intrusive thoughts that bothered me somewhat. In the cafe I imagined Han sitting in the seat across from me trying to feed me a piece of cake, wide eyed and silly. When I was walking outside the strip of shops I imagined Han by my side, arm linked with mine as we browsed shops and bought each other gifts. When I was in the Uber I imagined I was going to see my boyfriend perform on stage.

I felt a rush of adrenalin when I arrived at the venue, the energy amongst Stays was buzzing. I took my seat, this time further away than the evening before, and took a deep breath.

He’s not your boyfriend. He’s an idol. He is unattainable.

He is just a bit of fun. An unforgettable experience. One I will never forget.

He just wants to get his rocks off. It’s not about you.

He says he wants to make love to me.

He’ll probably just fuck you again. If he turns up at all.

I gave him my key card. He’s going to come to me tonight.

He might not.

Shut up and just enjoy the show.

The concert was amazing as expected. This time I got to hear Changbin’s solo “Mirror Mirror” and Chan looked like was almost going to cry when he said is ending speech.

Han was his usual energiser bunny self. Where did this man get his energy? Considering what he got up to last night.

I was almost going to cry too. It was all going to be over too soon, and I wasn’t talking about the concert.

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

Anticipation buzzed through me as I laid in bed that night. Han fucking Jisung was going to be here soon.

But the hours passed and he still hadn’t arrived. I tossed and turned restlessly. Part of me was waiting to hear the door. Part of me felt agitated that I couldn’t fall asleep. I cared too much about whether or not he turned up and it made me angry with myself.

Where was he?

See he isn’t coming.

Yes he will, you’ll see.

Just go to sleep.

I eventually resigned myself to the possibility that he might not come at all, and eventually I fell asleep.

——-----------------

Han pov.

Han was distracted and fidgety after the show. He had to do some official work with the other members, but all he could think about was when he could go to Sophie. Was she waiting for him? Did she think he wasn’t coming?

Once they had wrapped things up Hyunjin took Han to the side. “Hannie, bro, what’s going on with you?” he whispered. “It’s that Noona isn’t it?”

Han dropped his head but didn’t say anything.

“It is!” Hyunjin blew out a loud breath. “Did you sleep with her last night?”

Han lifted his head to meet his friend’s eyes and nodded. “I…She… she makes me feel…” he drifted off, he wasn’t sure how he could narrow down everything he felt into one word.

“Comforted?” Hyunjin offered, wrapping an arm around Han’s shoulder.

Yes. Comforted. That was the perfect way to describe it. But he felt a myriad of other feelings too. Safe. Warm. Euphoric. Complete. Satisfied. Insatiable. But comforted? That resonated with Han the mostl

“She does, Hyunjin. She makes me feel really good. She helps me forget about the pressure… the stress…” he smiled just at the thought of her. But his smile disintegrated when he thought about the reality of the situation. Sophie could never be his, as much as he wanted to pretend that she could be.

“Shh… It’s okay.” He soothed. “Are you going to go to her tonight too?”

“I know I shouldn’t, Hyung” Han sobbed.

Han leaned his head against Hyunjin’s chest and Hyunjin wrapped his arms around him entirely, holding him in a strong embrace.

Hyunjin stroked Han’s hair affectionately. “Hannie. I think you’d regret it more if you didn’t go to her tonight.”

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

Han’s nerves skyrocketed as approached room 143. This was going to be his last chance with Sophie. He wanted to make it count. He wanted to make it a night to remember. He wanted to memorise every single thing that was about to happen so he could draw upon it again and again.

He stood outside Sophie’s room and took a deep breath. This is it Han. He nervously pulled the key card out of his pocket and studied it for a moment. Was this the right thing to do? He silently told his brain to shut the fuck up, and with a shaky hand opened Sophie’s door and slipped inside.

Han moved quietly, shedding his clothing and slid into bed beside Sophie. She was asleep and she was…naked. He scooched up to spoon her, pressing his entire body against hers, and nuzzled his face into her shoulder.

He didn’t want to wake her, but he also didn’t want to lose a moment either. He was leaving the country tomorrow. He slowly peppered light kisses along her neck and shoulder, and his hand delicately stroked her arm as it made it’s way down to caress her hip. He pressed his hardening length against her ass, the pressure against his cock made him release a shaky breath and bite his bottom lip. He explored her body with a slow and gentle touch while his mouth continued to nip at her neck. He felt her breath change from a slow, steady rhythm to shallow gasps, and as she woke she started to push her ass back against him.

Han pulled away, allowing Sophie to roll onto her back, and he moved to hover over her, holding himself up with his arms either side of her.

“You’re here?” she said wearily. “Yes baby. I came as soon as I could… I’m sorry it’s so late.”

Sophie wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her for a kiss. It was like he’d been gone for a month. Her mouth devoured him, her hungry tongue searching for his.

“I need to see you… can we put a lamp on?” Han needed to see everything if he was going to add it to his memory bank. With a flick of a switch above the bed one of the bedside lamps came to life.

Now Han could see properly, he set to work. If yesterday was all about release and relief, tonight would be all about creating a memory that he could draw upon time and time again. Tonight he was going to go slow and take his time.

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

Sophie pov.

Han Jisung was really here! See he hadn’t stood me up. He hovered over me with an expression of overwhelm and desperation that made me yearn for him with every cell of my being. The way his wide eyes bored into me made me feel both vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

He explored my bottom lip with his tongue, slowly running the tip along the sensitive skin and slowly pushed it into my mouth as our lips connected. His tongue massaged mine. Slowly. Deliberately. The way he was kissing me made my pelvis ache, my vagina squeeze tight and my body feel drunk. He pulled away and looked down on me with now hooded eyes and he bit down hard on his his lower lip, before leaning down to kiss the side of my neck, nipping at it and sucking the flesh. I let out a slight squeal and he smiled against my skin.

Han’s hands and mouth explored every inch of my skin, first making his way from my neck to my breasts. He pinched one nipple lightly while his mouth found the other and sunk his teeth around it. It was pure heaven having his mouth attached to me like this. Then he swapped, taking the other nipple between his lips and flicking his tongue over it before biting it gently.

Eventually, his mouth made it’s way to my stomach and he kissed me there while his hands massaged my breasts. I didn’t take my eyes off of him while he worked his way down to my core.

Han knew exactly what to do. He’d really paid attention yesterday, and he applied the same technique that had taken me over the edge. But this time he slowed the pace right down, and then he alternated from gentle and soft motions to hungry and passionate. I loved both, and I showed him how good he felt by rewarding him deep moans and whimpers.

He brought me to orgasm with his fingers deep inside me and his mouth covering my clitoris. I saw stars and I thought I was going to float away from how fucking amazing it felt.

He made his way back up my body just as slowly as he went down it, making sure he gave every inch of skin equal care and attention. “I wanna remember. Every. Single. Part. Of. You.” He said between kisses to my stomach and crawled his way back up to be face to face with me. His lips glistened with my wetness and he had the audacity to lick his lips. “You taste so fucking good. Did you know that?” and he leaned down to kiss me messily so I could taste myself on him. “See… delicious right?” and he crashed his mouth back down on mine.

My hands explored Han’s body too, running them up and down his back. Stroking the back of his neck where his shaved undercut met his skin, and then slid them all the way to his fucking perky ass to pull his hips down to press against mine. I could feel his hard cock trapped between us and I was ready to beg him to be inside of me.

As if sensing my thoughts, or reading my body’s signals, Han lifted his hips enough to slide his hand down to my lips, sliding it through my wetness.

“Fuck!” I didn’t know if I had said it or if he did. All I knew is that this was pure bliss.

He removed his fingers and reached around the back of my thigh pulling it to the side, giving him access to nestle between my legs. With eyes locked on mine he allowed the head of his penis to brush against my lips. I inhaled sharply and my eyes plead with him to sink into me. He didn’t break eye contact as he pushed his hips against me and his cock effortlessly found my entrance and slipped inside with one motion.

Han let out a wobbly exhale, and once he was fully inside, he pushed even further ensuring he was as deep as possible. The stretch felt incredible, the pressure against my cervix exquisite. He really was made for me.

“You doing okay, baby?” he panted. He hadn’t even started moving yet and he looked out of breath.

“Mmm-hmm” I nodded. I wanted him to start moving. I wanted him closer. I wanted him to consume me.

He began to move in and out of me, and the kisses started again. On my mouth. On my neck. My shoulder. My nipples. Whatever hand wasn’t propping himself up was caressing me tenderly.

He pulled away and leaned up on both his elbows to drink in my body with his gaze. Then he looked down to watch his cock as he pulled it out almost the whole way only to push it in again with long languid strokes. His mouth hung open and his tongue poked out the side and he lifted his head back up to me.

“Your cock looks so good doing that to me.” I said.

“It sure fucking does. Your pussy takes me so well. It’s like we were made for each other.”

It was like we were made for each other.

Something in me snapped and I pulled him back down so that his whole weight was crushing me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist so that I could cling to him and hold him as close as possible.

Han took both my wrists and pinned them above my head with one hand, and reached around to my ass with the other, pulling my cheek to the side so he could grind deeper. He buried his face in my neck and sucked the skin hard enough it was going to leave marks. I wanted him to leave evidence.

His thrusts were still slow but they had more force behind them now. He’d pull out so slowly only to slam back in, hitting my cervix and creating a loud slapping sound as his body connected with mine.I wanted him to make me sore so I could feel him for days to come.

I want him to hurt me.

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

Han pov.

Han knew he wanted to make love to Sophie, but he didn’t know making love could mean pinning her hands above her head as he his cock slammed into her. He didn’t know it could mean bursting the blood vessels on her neck or pinching her nipple so hard she arched her back and cried his name. He didn’t know it could mean digging his fingers so hard into her hips that she was bound to bruise, and he didn’t know it could mean placing a hand on her neck and gently applying pressure while she watched him with lustful eyes. But it was making love and Han couldn’t think of any other name to describe what has happening. It felt so…right.

Han balanced his forceful ministrations with tender kisses, gentle caresses and sweet words. He loved to hear the different ways her body responded under his touch, from high pitched cries, to long low moans and everything in between.

“Ride me, baby.” He huffed lifting Sophie up and top of him as he flipped onto his back. He had the perfect view now as she rolled her hips against him and eagerly cupped her own breasts. Han laid back and enjoyed what was happening above him. He watched her facial expression as she rode him, her breasts as she massaged them, and then his eyes drifted down to where the was sitting flush against his pelvis.

Sophie leaned down to kiss him gently as she began to move up and down along his length. He wrapped his arms around her tight and lifted his hips to meet hers as she slid back down his cock. She was so fucking wet too. Obscene, wet noises filled the room as their breathing became ragged and strained.

“I’m really close…. Can you come with me?” He stammered.

“Yes…I’m…I’m gonna come…I’m close…” and with that Sophie lifted back up and threw her head back as she bucked and rocked on him with abandonment. Han held her hips guiding her as she started to falter and he felt her walls tighten around him. It sent Han over the edge and he choked on his breath as he released himself deep inside of her. He felt like the air had been stolen from his lungs and his entire body buzzed.

“That was fucking incredible, Han.” Sophie flopped down on his chest panting. “Where did you learn to be so good at that, huh?”

Han stroked her back that was now covered in a sheen of sweat. He could feel her heart racing against him.

“What? Making love?” he joked.

“Yeah…Making love. How’d you learn to be so good at it?”

“I don’t know…I’ve never really…made love before. It had always just been sex.”

Sophie slowly slid off his spent cock and laid against his side.

“If that's what making love's supposed to be Han, then I’d never done it either." She smiled.

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

Sophie Pov.

Han made love to me three more times that night. The man truly had an endless supply of energy and an endless supply of semen! Each time we started slow, his cock would struggle to squeeze into my sore and swollen lips.

“I’m not hurting you am I baby?” He’d ask me each time.

“No Han, it feels achingly good…keep going.” Would be my answer.

I lost count of the number of times he took me to the stars. During one time tears sprung from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, sending me into a blubbering mess. We both came and then broke down in sobs. Fuck he made my heart ache so bad.

Eventually, Han did run out of energy and we fell asleep covered in sweat, tears and cum. We could clean up in the morning, but for now I needed to be mingled with him for a while longer.

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

“Can I video you?” Han asked through ragged breaths. I hesitated. He wants to what? He wants to video me?

My brain ran through all the possible implications.

What if someone saw it?

What if it got leaked?

If I let him record me I’d have no control over it.

Has he done this before?

Does he video all his encounters?

Does he have a whole hard drive of conquests?

Han and I had woken up half an hour earlier at half past five in the morning, so that we could have a few more hours together. He was lazily fucking me, because we needed to be connected for as long as possible, when he popped the video question.

“Baby,” he broke my thoughts. “We don’t have to…” he reassured me. “I..don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He stroked my inner thigh lightly, tenderly.

“Yes…” I whispered. “Yes it’s okay…it’s just…I’ve never done something like that before.” I lowered my eyes sheepishly.

“Me either…But I really want to… If you’re okay with it.”

I studied his face. His expression was soft and caring. He was being honest. He was telling the truth.

I nodded. “Yes… let’s do it.” My concern faded and was replaced with a nervous smile.

He’s going to have me forever.

He’s going to jerk off to this later.

I’m going to make him come long after today.

The thought excited me.

Han pulled out of me and fetched his phone. Then repositioned himself, kneeling between my legs.

He looked up at me. “Are you ready, Sophie.” He whispered.

I sucked in my bottom lip and nodded profusely.

Holding the phone near his chest, he aimed it down towards my pussy. Then with a few pumps of his cock with his hand he pushed the head against my lips, sliding it from the entrance up to my clitoris. I gasped and looked down to watch his cock slide up and down through my sensitive labia. They were swollen and sore now from all the delicious fucking we’d been doing, yet I wanted him to give me more.

“Han…” I squeaked, my voice cracking. He looked up at me, camera following his gaze. “I…Please…I need your cock inside me…” I begged. I wanted him to know how much I needed him, right now in this moment, and every time he watched his video in the future. I hooked a hand under each of my thighs and pulled them as wide as I could so I could give him the best view possible.

With what could only described as a growl, Han pointed the camera back down between us, and plunged his cock inside of me.

“Fuck… you feel so tight…baby.” He panted. He’d been saying that all night, as though every time he penetrated me was for the first time. For me, each time I felt that first push inside of me it felt like relief. Relief that he was finally back where I needed him most. Back where he belonged.

His jaw was slack, mouth agape, as he concentrated on long, slow thrusts. He’d drag his cock out almost to the tip, pause, then squeeze back inside to the hilt. His eyes flickering between what he saw in real life, and the screen on his phone. The noises I was making were becoming obscene and pornographic. I needed him to know how good, how perfect, he felt.

He looked so fucking hot filming me like this just as it felt so erotic being filmed!

“I wanna see you play with yourself, baby.” He instructed.

I let go of one of my legs and Han pressed against it with his free hand, keeping it pinned out of the way. He was stronger than me and pushed my leg further than I thought it could go.

I reached down to my pussy and spread my lips with two fingers, exposing my most intimate parts to the man filming me.

Han’s eyes glazed over, his eyes hooded, and he hadn’t closed his mouth yet. He hungrily licked his lip as he watched me begin to swirl my fingers over my clit and then rub and flick the nub in an upward motion.

The camera drifted up my body and to my face. I stared right into the lens with with an expression of pure ecstasy. I bit my lower lip hard as my eyes begged him to ruin me.

Han whispered a “Fuck!” under his breath and he suddenly snapped his hips faster, making my breasts bounce and knock the breath out of me.

“That’s it, Han… Fuck me faster…harder…” I cried out. “I wanna come on your cock!”

Han’s hips pounded into me, and the sudden change from the relentless, slow thrusts that he had been torturing me with previously, to this forceful pace, tipped me over the precipice. My back arched off the bed, my hands gripped the sheets as I released a long, primal guttural moan. I didn’t care how I sounded or how I looked, or what it must’ve looked like on video. I was too wrapped up in the moment to give a fuck.

“That was so god damned hot.” Han said dead seriously. He’d stopped fucking me and was staring at me in wonderment.

“You make me this way.” I panted and relaxed my body back into the bed.

Han paused in thought. “Baby…Sophie…?” he put the phone down on the bed beside him and crawled up to meet my face. He stroked my cheek and kissed my jawline. “There’s something…one more thing I want to try…” he hovered over me, looking in my eyes with a nervous expression. “And… We really don’t have to do it… And if we start…and you feel like you need to stop… you have to tell me, ‘kay?”

I cupped his adorable cheeks with both hands and kissed him.

“Han…” I cooed. “What is it? What do you want to try?”

Han swallowed “I wanna fuck your ass.” He said and exhaled loudly.

I raised an eyebrow, then softened my face. “Then do it.”

Han’s eyes widened. “Really? You’re sure?” he sounded shocked. “Okay… Um…Well…lube…We’ll need the lube.” He scrambled off me to retrieve the lube from the bedside table (we’d been using it here and there throughout the night), and I positioned myself on all fours.

Han knelt behind me. “Do I need to…you know… prep you?” He had already squirted some lube on his fingers and massaging my rim. Oh fuck! It felt so good. I dug my teeth into my lower lip to muffle a moan when his thumb breached my opening. His other hand greedily attacked my sopping pussy, slipping two fingers inside of me and digging into my g-spot.

“Fuck Han!” I squealed. “You’re gonna make me come again doing that!” my surprised reaction morphed into a laugh, and then into a low moan as his fingers dug at my sensitive walls.

“Just trying to get you ready to take me.” He grinned and slid his two fingers out only to return with three fingers directed straight into my g-spot. I mewled at the stretch and the ache in my pelvis.

“Ah but Han, baby, that’s not the hole you’re getting me ready for!” I teased. He growled roughly and removed his thumb from my ass and repositioned his hand so he could press against me with two lubricated fingers. “Are you ready, baby?”

I nodded “Please…hurry.”

He pushed his two fingers into me.

“Is that better?”

“Mmm-hhhm.” I hissed through gritted my teeth.

“Does it hurt, baby? I can stop.”

Does it hurt, baby? Those words made me want nothing more than to have him hurt me deliberately just to say those words. But in my mind instead of “I can stop” he’d say “Can you be a good girl and take it for me?”

“Yes…yes it hurts but in the best possible way.” I managed through my panting breath. “Hurt me more.” I whined.

Han hesitated.

“I’ll say red if I need you stop, okay?” I promised.

“Okay baby, if you’re sure.” His words were barely a whisper.

Han removed all his digits and I cried out at the emptiness. The emptiness wasn’t just in my body, it was in my heart too. Is this what it will feel like when this is over?

I felt Han’s cock push against my rim. “If you’re ready, baby, I want you take me, okay? All of me. I know how badly you want it.” He pushed the head past my rim.

“Oh…fucking…God…” The stretch was like nothing I’d ever felt. It was like I was being split in two. I gripped the sheets and squeezed my eyes shut, panting until the burning eased.

“M..more…” I mumbled. “I…want…need -”

“Shhh. It’s okay, baby. It won’t be long until I’m fucking you, okay?” Han cooed and massaged my ass cheeks.

As Han continued to penetrate me it sounded like he was struggling to compose himself. His breath was short and shallow and he kept muttering how “fucking tight” I was and how good it felt. It felt satisfying knowing that I made him feel this way.

I continued to hiss through my teeth at the intensity of pleasure I felt with every slight movement that was caused merely from our breathing.

It felt like Han was filling up my entire body, stretching me so wide I thought I’d die.

And then I felt his hips against me. He was completely inside me.

“You’re taking me so well.” He was saying all the right things to make me completely lose my mind, and I started bucking against him.

Holding onto my hips, Han guided me forward halfway off his cock and then slid my hips back to meet his.

“Jesus Christ…this…fuck…Oh shit…This feels…” Han cried “I have to go harder…is that okay? Do you think you can take it?” He pulled hips away and slammed then against me, ramming his cock into me. Then again, groaning loudly.

My arms gave way making me fall face first into the mattress, and my legs were struggling to hold me up. He was so deep inside me it felt like I was going to choke on his cock. My body felt like it was going to burst into a million pieces and scatter across the universe.

“Yes, Han…Please…Fuck the FEELINGS out of me!”

Han stopped abruptly and went quiet.

“Han?” my voice was tiny and wobbly. Fuck! Shit! Why did he stop?

He pulled his cock out of my ass and flipped me onto my back forcefully. Anger burned in his eyes and his brow furrowed as he glared at me. Wordlessly, he grabbed a pillow, folded it in half and pushed it underneath my hips He grabbed my legs not caring how hard he gripped me and hooked them over his shoulders. Leaning forward, he cupped the side of my face and roughly shoved a thumb into the corner of my mouth forcing me to suck his thumb. Then his hand slipped down to my neck. I stared into his burning, furious eyes as he squeezed his hand around my neck. I felt the air constrict. My eyes widened.

“WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?” he growled. “Why do want me to fuck…the feelings… out of you?” he winced at the last part, his voice sounding hurt. The anger in his eyes turning to despair.

I placed a hand over the hand on my neck, tears welling up in my eyes. He released his grip, but his hand remained where it was. He dropped his head and sighed.

“Han…” I sobbed. “It hurts.” He looked up at me confused. “In here.” I moved his hand from around my neck and placed it on my chest. His eyes followed his hand to where I’d placed it over my heart. “I thought maybe you could…like…fuck it away.”

Han’s face turned soft. “Oh baby,” he soothed and took my hand to his chest “it hurts for me too.”

Tears streamed down my face as I sobbed loudly.

“Baby…shh” he leaned in kissing away my tears, stroking my face. “It’ll be okay. It will. I promise.”

“I know…it’s just…hard.” I sniffled.

“Hey, come here.” He said soothingly and mouth met mine with a slow deep kiss. A kiss that made every part of me surrender, and every inch of my body and every cell of my being melt. His tongue danced tenderly with mine, and I moaned into his mouth making him smile. I sucked on his lower lip taking the flesh into my mouth savoring the feel and the taste, before pushing my tongue into his mouth.

I could feel his cock twitching against me.

“It seems you’re getting excited again, Sir.” I teased.

“Grrr… you make me crazy, you know that?” He grinned.

I smirked, although I must have looked a complete mess with my puffy eyes and tear-stained face.

“You know…” he leaned in close to my ear. “I won’t fuck your feelings out…but I tell you what I can do.” He whispered darkly.

“What?” I asked eagerly, my breath hitching.

“I can fuck your brains out.”

He pushed himself up to kneel between my legs. “Would you like me to do that?” he asked, pressing himself against my ass again.

“Yes, Han I want you to.”

He reapplied whatever remaining lube we still had to his dick, and with barely any warning he pushed his entire length into me.

I welcomed every sensation that came with it. The burning, the stretch, the fullness, the pain. The sensations were amplified more than double, as they resonated with how my heart felt too. It too burned, and stretched, felt full, and it was definitely in pain. My heart and body together.

I closed my eyes losing myself to the feeling as Han hovered above me.

“Don’t take you eyes off me.” It was more of a beg than a demand or request.

I locked my eyes on his, his face contorted with angst and euphoria as his cock dragged along my inner walls and I squeezed around him like a vice.

“I’m gonna fuck your brains out now…and you can’t come ‘till I say.” He said huskily. “And you can’t look away. I wanna see your eyes the whole time.”

“O…okay..” I nodded.

Han set a brutal pace. It was the hardest he’d gone the entire two nights together. His hips snapped fast, rutting into me relentlessly. He slammed into me so hard that I knew that I would be feeling this for days. It’s what I had wanted all along, to feel him even after this. His body was sweaty and burning hot as I ran my hands over his biceps and shoulders, and my fingernails down his back.

The noises were absolutely obscene, my groans, whimpers and cries becoming louder and more feral. Han was making a lot of noise too, his breathing was laboured and heavy, and he kept muttering in Korean. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, but when they were they dark and hazy and locked on mine. We only truly broke eye contact when our mouth crashed together in messy, wet kisses.

“Fuck, I really do think you were made for me, Soph-” he breathed.

I could feel my orgasm approaching, and was nearly sent hurtling over the edge with one particularly hard thrust that made me cry out. “Han…!”

“Yes, Sophie?” he said as he slowed his pace for a moment.

“I…I’m so…so close.” I whined.

Han smiled and kissed me. “Me too, baby. You can come when you’re ready, okay?” he leaned his forehead on mine. “I won’t be far behind you.”

I nodded. “Okay… keep going.”

Han began to move again but he didn’t match the pace he had set before. His thrusts still had force behind them, but they were much slower and it heightened the sensations. I could focus on how exactly his cock felt as it dragged against my insides, or the how my stretched rim felt as he passed through it back and forth, or how my vagina would clench and ache as it yearned to be filled.

“Oh God! Oh….fuck!!!” My entire body stiffened and I choked on my breath as I saw stars. My orgasm wouldn’t slow down, it just kept going and I dug my fingers into his shoulders as I cried out.

“Come for me Han. I want you to own me.” I somehow managed, even though I thought my lungs had stopped working.

Han groaned as he released himself deep inside me, coating my walls as my extended orgasm eventually faded.

Han pulled out and collapsed on top of me out of breath and panting. He removed the pillow, not caring about the cum seeping out underneath me (we’d given up caring at this point), and propped himself up on and elbow.

“That was…intense.” He grinned the biggest fucked-out grin I’d ever seen. “You’re incredible.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m so lucky to have met you, you know that?”

I stroked his cheek. “You know what happened, don’t you?”

He looked at me intrigued. “What?” he smirked.

“We turned what was supposed to be raw and dirty anal sex into making love.”

“Ha!” he bellowed “True! You know what that means, right?”

I shook my head “No. What?”

“With all this making love, we might be in love.” He nestled his head onto my chest and I wrapped my arms around him tight.

“Maybe.” I sighed, but I didn’t let my mind entertain that idea.

————

Han pov.

Han turned on the shower and waited for the hot water to come through.

“I can’t promise I won’t grope you.” He joked as he ushered Sophie into the shower with him. She stepped into the cubicle and allowed Han to soap her up.

“And I can’t promise I won’t spank your ass.” She equally teased, smacking him on the butt.

Their time together was almost over and they had finally come to terms with it (not just putting on a brave face, surely).

And after their shower they ordered room service breakfast and scoffed down muffins and fruit because it was tasty (not to squash down their sadness, or anything like that).

Eventually, it really was time to say goodbye.

“Sophie,” He held her tight as they stood at the hotel room entrance. “I’ll never forget what.. What we shared. You don’t know how much you’ve helped me…to feel like myself again.”

“You’d better not forget!” She playfully punched his arm. “You’ve got a fucking porno of me in your phone!”

Han grinned like an idiot. “Yeah!” he feigned embarrassment.

“Well…” he started and looked down at his feet.

“Yeah…” Sophie responded quietly, eyes downcast.

“I.. I have to go.”

Then Sophie threw her arms around him, almost knocking him over.

And she kissed him. Really kissed him. A kiss that was full of love and sorrow. A kiss that was a “thank you” and a “you’re welcome”. A kiss that was a “goodbye” and an “until next time”.

And Han kissed her back. He wanted to say so much but he couldn’t find the words. At least not English words. Actually, even the Korean words were hard to find. It was unlike Han to be speechless. But he tried to convey how he felt in the way he kissed her. A slow, tender, deep kiss. He tried to memorise the softness of her lips, and the taste of her tongue, the way she’d bite his lip as he pulled his mouth away.

“Remember me, okay?” He whispered.

“How could I ever forget you?” she replied.

—-----------------------

Tears had already escaped Han as he walked back to his room, and once he was inside he fell to the floor sobbing uncontrollably, where no one could hear or see him.

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

One Month Later

Han Pov.

A month later Han was in a hotel room in Atlanta. He’d just finished a show he was alone again with his thoughts.

Even though he always kept himself busy, thoughts of Sophie still crept into his head. He hardly slept because he’d dream about her. Last night he dreamed that she was on tour with him, but when he woke up he was alone.

He searched for her face everywhere he went. Every show, every meet, fucking everywhere! He searched even when he knew there was no possibility that she’d even be there. He wrote songs about her. He tried to distract himself with work.

And every night he would open his phone and watch the video of her. Seeing how she came undone on his cock always made him so hard and so heartbroken.

Sometimes he’d jerk off to watching the video like a porno. Sometimes he’d just listen to the audio in the dark and fantasise about fucking her while he got off.

Sometimes he just watched it without masturbating just to see her face and hear her voice.

And sometimes he’d cry when he watched it.

“Pull yourself together.” He would say, “or this is the last time I’m going to watch this.”

He even contemplated deleting the video entirely but he could never bring himself to do it.

That night, Han opened his contact list, like he did every night, and brought Sophie’s number up on the screen.

“You can’t fucking call her.” He’d say each and every time.

This time he hit dial.

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

Sophie Pov.

After my time with Han my life went back to it’s regular rhythm, but it was like I was living on autopilot, and in some sort of hazy state. It was like I was doing all of the things Sophie does, but nothing felt right anymore.

Stray Kids were finishing their final leg of their tour and it took every ounce of will power not to watch clips of Han on Instagram. I didn’t want to be reminded of him, and I knew if I did look, it would be like picking a scab off a wound too soon.

It was a struggle to move on and I had often found myself thinking about him.

It would start when I opened my eyes in the morning. I’d imagine he was curled up beside me. Then I’d wonder what he was doing right now. If he was in Korea was he still fast asleep? What is he dreaming about? Does he dream about me? If he was in another country what is he doing? Do I creep into his mind too?

Does he watch the video he took?

And then eventually I’d get up and go about my day functioning as best I could.

I didn’t know how he felt. All I knew for sure was that I hadn’t forgot about him.

The weeks passed and the foggy haze that had been clouding be began to ease just slightly. I’d decided that it was okay to be sad and to grieve. It was a special, once in a lifetime, romantic encounter, and I shouldn’t want to forget it. I somehow found the trust in myself that eventually the pain will fade and this will one day be a cherished memory. One that will make my heart burst with happiness, rather than feel heavy and ache. I just wish it’d hurry the fuck up.

One Friday afternoon I was in a cafe working on my laptop, enjoying a coffee and cake. Stray Kids were in the US finishing off their tour. I knew because I’d started to become brave and and sneak a few peeks at Instagram. It was okay if I looked at clips of the other members, but if I saw Han my chest would pound and I’d have to turn it off. I was still not ready to look at him.

I finished my work, packed up and paid for my afternoon tea before heading out into the warm afternoon sun.

As I walked I focused my mind on my surroundings.

What could I see? The beautiful parkland to my left. The green grass. Trees that have been there far longer than I’ve been alive.

What could I feel? The warm sun. The breeze. The heaviness of my laptop bag strap digging into my shoulder.

What could I hear? People talking. Seagulls squawking. My phone ringing.

My phone ringing? Fuck!

I scrambled into by bag searching for my phone. It was probably a client. I pulled it out and looked at who was calling me.

Incoming Call: Han Jisung

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Han fucking Jisung?

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

Han video called me every week. And in between he’d send me selfies and sweet messages. Occasionally, I’d get a cheeky dick pic. He said those particular photos were to make me so hungry that I’d fly to Korea.

I would count down the days until our video calls. It’s where we got to learn about, and get to know each other properly. We’d talk about everything. From my childhood to his time as a trainee, our passions, interests, dreams. Sometimes we’d talk about random shit, or he’d show me a new song.

He’d share with me his struggles and worries, and he’d listen to mine, always offering me empathy.

Sometimes our calls turned sexy and he’d masturbate while he instructed me to undress and play with myself. Sometimes he’d get me to use my toys or demonstrate the fluffy plug for him.

One particular evening we were on one of our calls and I’d slipped my top off for him.

“Fuck, baby! I’ll never get sick of your tits!” He hissed and I knew he was playing with himself.

“I should’ve given them more attention.” He said regretfully.

I responded with a seductive smirk and began to play with my nipples and then cup them in my palms, squeezing and massaging them.

“Imagine these wrapped around you cock, Han.” I suggested huskily as I pushed my breasts together. “Would you like to fuck my tits?”

Han’s mouth fell open and his tongue hung out the corner as he worked his cock. I couldn’t see what he was doing but his face told me that he’d come because of the way he squeezed his eyes shut, and from the choked sound in his throat. I loved seeing Han’s “pleasure face” as we’d affectionately started calling it.

Once he came back down to earth he stared at me lovingly, and reached out to touch the screen.

“I’d give anything to hold you right now.” He whispered. He had pure longing in his eyes.

I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. I’d planned to taunt and tease him and drop hints. But the pained, tormented look he was giving me melted my heart.

“Well baby!” I smiled. “You will get to touch me very soon.”

Han’s expression changed from longing to confusion, and then to hope. He raised his eyebrows and his eyes widened questioningly as realisation hit him.

“Wait! What? … Does that…. mean?”

I grinned “Yep, Han. I’ve bought flights to Korea!”

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

Thank you for taking the time to read my Han and Sophie story... I am a sucker for a Han love story.

Hope you enjoyed.

#skz smut #skz fanfic #han jisung #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut

51 notes · View notes

debbiechanclub · 1 year ago

Text

Hit Me Like Bang (and Now I'm Never Looking Back), Part 2

A "Take My Hands, Wreck My Plans" fic

Pairings: David Finlay x OFC / past!Jay White x OFC Word Count: 11k Warnings: Language; alcohol use; radioactive levels of angst but also fluff; and a little smidge of smut so 18+

On the road to Dominion, Nellie's past and present converge to solidify the truth of what's been in front of her all along.

TMHWMP Timeline | Masterlist

Read it on AO3

A/N: Herein is the end of Nellie's story, and I am emotional :') Don't worry―there are more prequels forthcoming that will go more into her previous relationships and how she got here, but this is her happy ending.

One small note: there's quite a bit of flashback scenes in this chapter, and they're not in chronological order to each other, so pay attention to the dates. That said, this fic and Nellie truly are my baby, and thank you for coming on this two-plus-year journey with me. I hope you enjoy reading her story just as much as I've enjoyed creating it for you <3

tags: @aussiearrow @cowboyslariat @knifepervert @sldghmmr @cardblade @missbrownstone @meteora-fc @bec0m @thatgirlforever5 @rocca09 @aussiespam

Friday, April 14, 2023 Tokyo, Japan

It took about seven minutes bell-to-bell for Nellie to dispose of Mariah May in their title match at Korakuen Hall. She hadn’t even broken a sweat. But she’d anticipated short work. She’d already planned to make up for it in her backstage comments.

“Alright, I’ll make sure this is short and sweet just like that match,” she started as she stepped in front of the camera. “Do you see this title?” She held up the championship in her hand. “I have been the SWA World Champion since May fifth of last year. Twenty-twenty-two. That is three hundred and forty-five days, just twenty days short of an entire year. And no one here at World Wonder Ring Stardom seems to give a shit about it, or the verifiable fact that I am the only person in history to hold this title more than once!

“But here’s the thing: I know exactly why they don’t care. Because I’m a gaijin. Never mind that I’ve been dedicated to this company since twenty-eighteen; that I’ve lived in Japan for over three years, through a fucking pandemic; that I’ve learned the language. Apparently, none of that matters, because I’m still not from here. I’m still an outsider. And God forbid a gaijin become the face of Stardom, so what do they do? They hold me in place with this title that they clearly don’t give a shit about and allow me to defend it once a quarter. And Mariah May?” She scoffed. “Do you know how many times I’ve already beaten Mariah in title matches? Tonight makes three, and the other two were in her home country for the RevPro Undisputed British Women’s Championship. So please, someone enlighten me: if Mariah May couldn’t get it done against me in her home country, why the fuck did anyone think she stood a chance against me here, in Korakuen of all places? I might be from Philly, but Tokyo is my home. Stardom is my home. The Stardom dojo beat me down, built me back up, and turned me into the joshi I am today, and in return I made history. And I refuse to be held in place any longer.

“Saya Kamitani. You’ve made history, too. We have history. Because see, everyone associates you with Hayashishita-san and me with Torrance—but you and I were partners first. We were Goddess of Stardom champions together. We’re both champions now. And at All Star Grand Queendom, I want you in a winner takes all match for my SWA World Championship, and your Wonder of Stardom Championship. And it’ll be a gaijin from Philadelphia who puts an end to your history-making reign.”

And with that she walked off camera, the gauntlet thrown.

* * * *

Sunday, October 30, 2022 Tokyo, Japan

Nellie was in good spirits. She was fresh off defending her SWA World Championship against Mayu Iwatani in New York City. Halloween was tomorrow, and David had come over for a horror movie marathon. He’d brought takeout from her favorite sushi place and a six-pack of Sapporo. She intended to tell him how she felt. And she couldn’t have been more nervous.

“Is everything alright?” he casually asked. “It seems like something’s on your mind.”

She brought her feet up to sit cross-legged on the couch and pulled her soft checkered fleece blanket over her lap. Of course he could tell something was on her mind—it was David. He paid attention. He was perceptive; emotionally mature. It was one of the many, many things that drew her to him, something that set him apart from most guys she’d been involved with in the past. And now, after her few days away, she knew for certain.

“Yeah… I, um,” she started. “I just guess I realized something when I was in New York.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Well,” she stalled, nervous. But there was no turning back now—and she didn’t want to. “I went out with a few people after the show, and… Kyle Fletcher kissed me. But all it did was make me realize that I have feelings for someone else.”

David wasn’t looking at her as she said it, queuing up the first movie on her TV. And Nellie quickly started to overthink, worried that maybe he’d focus on the fact that Kyle had kissed her and not what she was trying to tell him—

But then the corner of his mouth quirked up. “Oh, yeah? Who’s the lucky guy?”

He glanced at her as he set down the remote. She pursed her lips at him. “Are you seriously gonna make me say it?”

“I kind of want you to, yeah.”

She bit back a grin. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that she worried he could hear it. “Well… I don’t know how he feels, so I’m kind of nervous to.”

“Well, let me clear things up for you, then…” David said, and he pulled her in and kissed her. Nellie melted into him. His lips were soft, his kiss slow and sweet, and the way he cradled her head in his hands felt natural, as if they’d done this a thousand times before. And she already knew she wanted to do it a thousand times more.

He pulled back from her lips but still held her close. “I’ve been wanting to do that for the last three months,” he said.

She grinned. “You have?”

“Yeah. And since we’re talking about it… I wasn’t sure how you felt. Sometimes it seemed like you were still hung up on Jay.”

Nellie sighed and leaned back into the couch. Admittedly, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Honestly, at the start of the summer, I was still hung up on him. And I think it was because I never got any definite closure when we broke up, and so when he showed up out of nowhere at Dontaku it did feel like there was still something there between us. And he made it seem like there was, too, which didn’t help at all. But then you came back for the G1, and we reconnected, and genuinely—you’ve put in more effort over the last three months than Jay ever put into our entire relationship. And that really put things into perspective for me. But then it was complicated, too, because I know how close you and Jay used to be, and sometimes I worried that getting involved with you after him would look… I don’t know… messy? As stupid as that sounds.”

“No, I get it,” David nodded. “No matter how you and Jay left things, there was a point in time when you cared about him, so of course you wouldn’t want to throw salt in a wound. I mean, there was a point in time when I cared about him, too; he was my best friend. But it’s not like you and Jay just broke up, and he and I aren’t as close as we used to be, either.” He reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear; Nellie’s skin tingled at his touch. “Besides… technically I went out with you first, anyway.”

She mirrored his grin. He wasn’t wrong about that, either. David had gone out with her first, on an awkward date back in 2017, the first time Nellie had ever set foot in Japan. Back before she’d met Zack, or Riley, or Kyle, or ever gotten involved with Jay—David had been first. But she hadn’t seen it then.

“Not technically—you did,” she confirmed. “And lately I’ve wondered how different things would be if I’d given you a chance back then.”

“Nah,” he returned with a shake of his head. “I was a clown back then; I don’t blame you for not giving me a chance. Plus, I’ve come to believe that everything meaningful happens when it’s supposed to.” He smiled to himself. “I was actually planning on telling you how I felt tonight. But you beat me to it.”

Nellie’s smile widened. “Oh yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah. So, I guess I owe Kyle Fletcher a beer for kissing you and helping you figure shit out.”

“Ha!” she laughed, and he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, and she snuggled into him, moving the blanket so that he was underneath it, too. It felt right—a perfect fit. And as David pressed play on the first movie, Nellie knew in her heart that this was when it was all supposed to fall into place, and not a moment sooner.

* * * *

“God, you are a sight for sore eyes.”

Nellie smiled at David through her phone screen. It was only a few days ago that he’d left, and he’d only be gone a few days more, working Capital Collision in Washington, D.C., and then Collision in Philadelphia before flying right back to Tokyo—to her. But Nellie already felt the ache of his absence.

“You have no idea how bad I wish you were here right now.” She settled back into her bed pillows, getting comfortable. “I have some pent-up energy that could really use working out.”

David grinned, crooked and handsome. It didn’t help her situation. “I know you do. I just watched your backstage comments.”

She waited, expecting him to say something more, wanting him to. After all, his opinion was the one that mattered most to her. “And?” she impatiently pressed.

“And it took everything in me not to share the video wherever I could,” he said. “I’m proud of you, babe. You already deserved that match; I don’t see how they can’t give it to you now.”

The ache in Nellie’s core deepened. But so did the warmth in her heart. “Thanks, babe. I’m hoping it’ll be official by tomorrow, but… we’ll see.”

“Do you have a match tomorrow?”

She laughed shortly to herself; the expression on her face said it all. “Yeah… a best two out of three falls eight-woman tag match. Me, Tam, Poi, and Mina against Donna del Mondo. It’s the main event.”

“Shit,” David commented before she’d even finished. “That’s gonna be charged.”

“Tell me about it,” she lowly returned. And then, “Thekla thinks I should take the opportunity to leave Cosmic Angels.”

“I was just about to say. It’s the perfect opportunity, isn’t it?”

She drew in a hesitant breath. “Potentially? Actually, if the Cosmic Angels-Club Venus shit finally hits the fan like I expect it to, it probably will be the perfect opportunity. I could just say they’re too dysfunctional and walk out. That’s exactly how I left Queen’s Quest.”

“Then I say do it,” David returned. “You’d be better served somewhere other than Cosmic Angels, I know you would. You know you would.”

“I do know I would,” she agreed. “I’m just… I don’t know. Worried about hurting people’s feelings even though I know I shouldn’t be.”

“Torrance will be fine,” David dismissed; it went without saying that she meant her. “She has Mariah and Mina.”

“No shit,” Nellie breathed. “They’re three peas in a pod these days. Which doesn’t really surprise me… Torr and Mariah are basically the same person in slightly different fonts.” David laughed at that. “Well, it’s true!” she doubled down.

“No, it is,” he nodded. “But I could always just say you’re Bullet Club, too. I’m sure that would get the point across to Tam.”

A grin spread over Nellie’s face. It felt inevitable that she would be Bullet Club, and sooner rather than later. But he’d reminded her. “Speaking of Bullet Club, are you gonna tell me who Riley’s replacement is yet?”

He smirked and shook his head. “No. That’s privileged information.”

Her eyebrows arched. “And I’m not privileged to it? I’m your girlfriend!”

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” he assured her. “Don’t worry—it’s someone you like. I can’t have anyone in Bullet Club who doesn’t get along with my girl.”

“Well, there’s some people you need to kick out, then,” she returned—just as she heard a knock-knock-knock on the front door of her apartment. She glanced toward the sound in confusion. David noticed.

“What?”

“Someone just knocked on my door.”

He looked confused then. “Isn’t it almost 10 p.m. there?” he asked. But Nellie was already pulling up the live feed from her video doorbell—and she saw a familiar figure.

“It’s Torr.” She sighed. Something told her she wasn’t just dropping by.

“I guess you should go, then,” David figured. Nellie’s brow furrowed.

“Probably. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” he gently said. “I should probably get going myself, and you two are overdue for a talk.”

“Yeah… because I don’t want to have it,” she muttered.

David smirked. “Go, babe. I’ll talk to you later.”

She pouted. “Okay. See you soon,” she returned—and before they disconnected, she almost said it. I love you. She knew she did. But she wanted the first time she told him to be in person.

She left her phone in her bedroom and padded down the hall to the front door. She unlocked and opened it just as Torrance was getting ready to knock again. She quickly put her hand down, almost as if she was surprised Nellie had answered.

“Hey.” Torrance took in her appearance—pajamas on, makeup off. Her brow furrowed. “You weren’t in bed, were you?”

“Well, technically,” Nellie returned. “But I was talking with David.”

Torrance’s frown deepened. “Oh. I’m sorry, I should have texted—”

“No, it’s fine,” Nellie dismissed, and she opened the door wider so she could come inside. Torrance hesitated for a beat before she crossed the threshold. It was odd. They both had keys to each other’s apartments; it used to be that Torrance would just let herself in without so much as a knock. But a lot had changed over the last three months.

“What’s up?” Nellie asked as she shut the door. She noticed that Torrance was dressed for a night out in a shiny pink miniskirt and white bustier tank top, her hair and makeup done to perfection. And again, Torrance hesitated.

“Um, well,” she started with a bit of a nervous laugh. “I actually came over here to ask if you wanted to come out with us, but—”

“Who’s ‘us’?”

Torrance bit her lip. “Me, Mariah, and Mina.”

Nellie couldn’t help her laugh. “You’re joking, right?”

Torrance’s expression turned stony. “No, actually, I’m not.”

“Torr,” Nellie breathed out. “Come on. I literally just beat Mariah in a title match and then talked shit about her, you really think either of us want to hang out with each other?”

“Well, Mariah’s willing to put that aside because she knows you’re my best friend,” Torrance returned. She looked down at her hands. “And I feel like we’ve barely seen each other since… well, since the Triangle Derby started.”

So, since Club Venus became a thing, Nellie wanted to say. But she figured it wouldn’t help. “Because we haven’t,” she regretfully returned. “But it’s not intentional. You’ve just been doing your thing with Mariah and Mina, and I’ve been doing mine with Tam and Poi. Or I was. And I know I sort of went off into my own little world when David came back, so…”

Torrance looked back up at her. “Yeah, so are you and him…?”

“Together? Officially?” Nellie finished. “Yeah, we are,” she confirmed, and the mood lightened a bit. Torrance smiled.

“Took long enough.”

Nellie breathed a laugh. “I know. But I think it happened right when it was supposed to.”

“No, I think so, too,” Torrance agreed. “He’s good for you, I can tell. You’ve carried yourself differently ever since he came back; more confident.”

“Thanks,” Nellie genuinely returned. She’d noticed that change in herself, too. David was good for her. He was good to her. And she wasn’t the only one who’d changed. “You’ve been more confident with Club Venus, too.”

Torrance looked down again, the corners of her mouth turned up, almost as if she was bashful to hear that Nellie had noticed. “Yeah, they’ve really helped me come into my own. Mina really pushes me. And I don’t know… it just feels like we’re all on equal footing.”

Nellie nodded in understanding. “Unlike when we were a tag team?”

Torrance frowned again. “I wasn’t trying to imply—”

“No, I get it,” Nellie assured her. And she did get it. After she and Torrance had won the 2021 Goddesses of Stardom Tag League, throughout their entire reign as Goddess of Stardom Champions, people had said that Nellie carried Torrance. That Nellie was the better wrestler, that Torrance would never be champion without her. So, it was no wonder Torrance felt more confident with Mariah and Mina. People weren’t comparing her to them; instead, they were acknowledging how much she’d improved. And as much as Nellie didn’t care for Club Venus, she still wanted the best for Torrance.

“And for what it’s worth, I never felt like I was carrying our team,” she told her. “I should have told you that back then. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“No, I know you never felt that way,” Torrance returned, and nothing else needed to be said. She and Nellie understood each other. They always had.

“But… I guess I can’t persuade you to get dressed and come out with us?” she added.

Nellie shook her head. “Not a chance.”

Torrance nodded. “It was worth a shot.” She started for the door. “Well, sorry for interrupting your call with your man.” She stopped. “I didn’t interrupt… something, did I?”

Nellie let out a laugh. “No, it wasn’t one of those calls. He’ll be back Tuesday; I think I can manage ‘til then.”

“Tuesday?” Torrance noted. “Okay, I’ll be sure to steer clear of here that whole day.”

She let herself out, and Nellie told her to have a glass of water for every drink—she had to work tomorrow. And as Torrance waved goodbye and Nellie shut the door, she knew that neither of them were the same people anymore. They’d grown. Professionally, apart. But not in their hearts.

* * * *

Sunday, November 20, 2022 NJPW/Stardom Historic X-Over – Tokyo, Japan

If anyone was surprised at how well Cosmic Queendom and Aussie Open worked together in the ring, it wasn’t Nellie, Torrance, Kyle, or Mark. It felt like they’d been teaming together for years, and the deeper they got into the match against Los Ingobernables de Japon and Fukuoka Double Crazy, the more Nellie knew they were creating something special for fans of NJPW and Stardom alike. But it wasn’t all serious. Nellie couldn’t help but mess with Sanada and Naito a bit—a callback to her days in Suzuki-gun with Zack. In the end, it was Torrance who got the pin over Koguma after she and Nellie surprised Mark and Kyle by doing Coriolis. And when their arms were raised in victory, Nellie almost wished that she and Torrance had joined United Empire like they’d half-joked about a year ago.

Almost.

More members of United Empire greeted them as they returned backstage; Jeff Cobb, Great O-Khan, and Aaron Henare’s match against Kazuchika Okada, Toru Yano, and Great Muta was next. Mark and Kyle exchanged “Crowns Up” with all their teammates—and then Jeff looked expectantly at Nellie.

“Come on, you know you want to,” he tempted, wiggling his hands at her.

“Fine; but only for you,” she reluctantly gave in, and she made a crown with her hands and touched her fingers to his.

“I don’t know,” Jeff teased, his voice raising leadingly. “After seeing that Coriolis, I think there’s definitely a spot for Cosmic Queendom in the Empire.”

“Ha!” Torrance bluntly dismissed. Jeff pressed his mouth into a line.

“Okay, maybe just a spot for Nellie, then.”

“Yeah, how long have you two been planning that?” Mark asked, tactfully shifting the focus away from the ghost of Torrance and Will’s relationship. Thank God Will was elsewhere.

“Not long; we only just thought of trying it a few days ago,” Nellie said. “You’re not upset we did it?”

She looked hesitantly between Mark and Kyle, but they both quickly shook their heads. “Hell no, it was perfect,” Kyle assured, and Nellie smiled. They’d talked everything out that night he’d kissed her three weeks ago in New York City, and there wasn’t any awkwardness at all between them. They’d had a fling a year ago that just hadn’t panned out, and that was that. They were just friends. Easy.

“Well, thanks,” she said. “But Torr and I are kind of a package deal, so if she’s not in, I’m not, either. Sorry, Jeff.”

“A package deal?” O-Khan slyly asked. Torrance’s eyes widened.

“Not that kind of package deal!” she proclaimed. And then, more under her breath, “Not that anyone hasn’t asked me that before, but.”

Nellie whipped her head around at her. “Wait, what?”

“Yes, please share with the class,” Jeff eagerly added, propping his chin on his fist. But O-Khan’s entrance music started to play and inadvertently gave Torrance the perfect out from answering.

“Good luck!” she said, and the guys all groaned and booed after them as she and Nellie left. Nellie could tell by Torrance’s clipping pace that she was keyed up.

“You alright?”

“I need to get out of here and get a drink,” she returned. “How many more matches are there?”

“Um,” Nellie thought about it for a second. “Three, I think? But that reminds me—Gabe invited us out with the LA Dojo guys. I told him I wasn’t sure if you had anything in mind already and would let him know.” She shrugged. “I don’t know, it could be fun. Although that Clark guy seems like he might be trouble.”

“I don’t have anything in mind,” Torrance returned. “And honestly, I’m up for a bit of trouble.”

And that was how, later that night, they found themselves at a dive bar in Roppongi with Gabriel Kidd, Clark Connors, and Alex Coughlin. There had been more people with them at the outset, but one by one they’d dropped off bar after bar and called it a night. But not Nellie and Torrance. They were both familiar with Gabe from his time as a Young Lion, although they hadn’t seen him in a year-and-a-half. As for Clark and Alex, the girls barely knew either of them—but the guys seemed very keen on changing that.

“How the hell is it we haven’t hung out before tonight?” Clark asked Nellie, turning toward her as they sat together at the bar. “I know you were around when I was here in twenty-nineteen.”

“Probably because I was around, but I wasn’t living here yet,” she explained. “I moved here in twenty-twenty, right before everything shut down.”

“Yeah, Nell and I were in that same shitty boat,” Gabe said. “At least you weren’t stuck quarantined in fucking dojo housing.”

She snorted through her nose. “No, I was just stuck quarantined with my ex.”

“No shit!” Clark exclaimed. “Who’s that?”

“Jesus, Clark, mind your business!” Alex shot, his New York accent becoming even more pronounced. Torrance chuckled beside him.

“It’s fine,” Nellie dismissed with a wave of her hand. “It was Zack. Sabre Jr.,” she added, as if there was another pro wrestler named Zack living in Japan.

“Oh shit, you were with ZSJ, weren’t you?” Clark realized. “Actually, now that you mention it, I remember working a RevPro show with you, him, and Suzuki a few years back. Both of y’all were there too,” he said to Alex and Gabe.

They both nodded. “Yeah, bruv, I know exactly what show you’re talking about,” Gabe confirmed. “And clearly Nellie has a thing for Brits, so we should switch spots.”

Clark flipped him off. “You want another drink?” he asked Nellie.

“Nah, I’ll get it,” Gabe said, already flagging down the bartender.

“How about I get us all the next round?” Alex interjected. “You two are embarrassing yourselves.”

Clark and Gabe both let Alex know exactly what they thought of that, and Nellie took the opportunity to slide off her barstool. “Well, while you guys figure it out, I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

“I’ll go with you,” Torrance said.

“It’s a one-stall bathroom,” Clark pointed out.

“Well, good thing I’m going just so we can talk about the three of you, then,” she sweetly returned, and Nellie laughed at the look on Clark’s face as they both walked away.

“Looks like you have your pick of Clark and Gabe tonight,” Torrance smirked once they were out of earshot. Nellie genially rolled her eyes.

“Come on… you know I’m not available.”

“Yeah, I know,” Torrance started—and Nellie could sense it coming.

“But?”

“But,” she went on. “As much as I want things to work out with you and David, you’ve already spent enough time waiting on guys, Nell. More than enough, more than you ever should have. I mean, speaking of Zack—he’s literally the only guy since I’ve known you who didn’t leave you in some sort of limbo.”

Nellie’s eyebrows arched. “Jesus, when you put it like that.” She tried the restroom door handle as they arrived, but it was occupied, and so they both leaned back against the wall on either side of the hall to wait.

“I’m just being honest,” Torrance returned.

“No, I know,” Nellie breathed; and, admittedly, Torrance did have a point.

David had left Japan less than a week after he and Nellie had finally told each other how they felt; and with no timetable for when he’d be back, they’d made the mutual decision not to put a label on anything. “That would make me no better than Jay, and I refuse to do that to you,” David had said. But it didn’t dishearten Nellie. Instead, it emboldened her. Because, to her, it confirmed that what she and David had wasn’t conditional. It was real.

“And I get what you’re saying, I do,” she told Torrance. “But it doesn’t feel like I’m in a limbo this time, Torr, and I can’t explain it other than to say I just have this deep-seated feeling in my soul that David and I have something real that’s worth waiting for. I mean, we’ve talked every single day since he left, and I sure as shit couldn’t say that about Jay when he was stuck in the States, and we were actually in a relationship.”

“I know,” Torrance nodded. “David’s a good guy, and I have a lot more faith in him than most, I do. But I’m just saying… I’ll still kick his ass if I have to.”

Nellie grinned. “I know you will. But I’m telling you you won’t.” The restroom door opened, and a woman smiled and bowed her head at them as she exited. “You go ahead,” Nellie offered Torrance.

“Okay, cool; turns out I do have to go,” she said, and she ducked inside and locked the door behind her as Nellie fished her phone out of her small crossbody bag. The clock widget on her home screen informed her it was after 10 a.m. on the East Coast of the U.S., but David was in Los Angeles filming an episode of NJPW Strong; ironically, he had an eight-man tag match against a team that included Jay and Riley. But she decided to text him, anyway. Even if he wasn’t up, he’d get back to her when he was.

She pulled up their text chain and smiled seeing their messages from just a few hours ago; he’d gotten up in the middle of the night to watch her and Torrance’s Historic X-Over match live. Torr and I are out with the LA Dojo guys, she wrote. I’m having fun, but it’s also just making me miss you.

She sent it off and switched over to Instagram, not expecting a reply. But then David’s name popped up on her screen.

Are you? They’re good guys, don’t let their antics fool you. And I miss you too, every day.

Butterflies. Meaningful ones.

They exchanged a few more texts before Torrance emerged from the bathroom, and Nellie told him she’d let him go to start his day. Okay, let me know when you make it back home, he wrote back. You know I’ll start to worry if I don’t hear from you.

I know, she returned, and she sent it off with a kissy face emoji. Because even though there wasn’t a label on her and David’s relationship, in every other way, every way that mattered, they were together.

* * * *

Sunday, April 23, 2023 Stardom All Star Grand Queendom – Yokohama, Japan

Doggedness and determination. That’s what Nellie was running on by the end of the winner takes all match against Saya Kamitani.

She’d been prepared, thoroughly. But as well as Nellie knew Saya, she wasn’t used to being opposite her, at least not one-on-one, and she realized early on that she couldn’t afford a single misstep. But the reverse was also true—and unlike Nellie, Saya had nothing to gain or prove. She’d surpassed the record set by Momo Watanabe for defenses of the Wonder of Stardom Championship, eclipsed Kairi by more than one hundred days to become the white belt’s second-longest reigning champion, her position as one of Stardom’s best and brightest secure. She had nothing to fight for outside maintaining the status quo.

But Nellie had everything to gain, everything to prove, everything to fight for. Despite being a long-tenured champion herself, despite being the older and more experienced wrestler of the two, she was decidedly the underdog. That was her motivation, her drive, her fire. And by the halfway point, there were more people cheering for Nellie in Saya’s hometown crowd than there had been at the opening bell. If she lost, at least she would have that.

But she won.

She knew she’d done it as soon as she hit her new finisher, a variation on a lifting reverse STO that she’d worked out with David and dubbed the Wit Hit. (“As in a cheesesteak wit onion, not as in like, a quick wit,” she’d explained. “Honestly, it works either way,” he’d smirked.) And when she hooked Saya’s leg and felt the referee count one, two, three, she knew she’d earned the crowd’s respect.

And she had Saya’s, too. All along.

As Nellie stood with tears in her eyes and the winner’s trophy in her hands, Saya fastened the Wonder of Stardom Championship around her waist. And after she raised her arm in victory, she pulled her into a hug and told her in Japanese, “You are always welcome in Queen’s Quest, Nellie-san.”

Nellie hadn’t expected it. It gave her even more to think about.

But she’d worry about that later. Right now, her priority was setting her intention as the new Wonder of Stardom Champion.

“What did I say?” she started as she stepped in front of the backstage camera; sweaty and worn, laden with gold. “I said I would end Saya Kamitani’s history-making reign, and that’s exactly what I did. And now a gaijin from Philadelphia is the 9th SWA World Champion and the 17th Wonder of Stardom Champion—and I intend to be a fighting champion.” She shook her head. “No more going five months without a defense. No more being placated and overlooked. Whoever wants a shot at either of my titles, just say the word. Kamitani-san had fifteen defenses of this championship? I want sixteen. Seventeen, eighteen, more. So whoever wants to try to take it from me, let Rossy know. He can’t ignore me now.”

She stopped to draw in a breath, collecting herself before she went on. “And now that I have proven just how un-ignorable I am, how much of an asset I am to this company, there’s another piece of business I need to address. For an entire week now people have been asking me nonstop backstage, online, stopping me out in the street—Who are you with, Nellie? Are you with Cosmic Angels or Club Venus? And frankly? The answer is neither.

“Tam and Poi, you welcomed me into Cosmic Angels without question. You gave me a place when I was suddenly without one, and I’ll never take that for granted. Torr and I won the Goddess titles with your backing, I won this SWA title for a history-making second time with your backing, the three of us nearly went the distance in the Triangle Derby. But despite all that success, we all knew I was something of a black sheep in your colorful, kawaii flock. It was like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole, and what happened? I wore myself down to try to fit.” She shook her head again. “Not anymore. My edge is back—and with all due respect, I’ve outgrown Cosmic Angels. And with no due respect, I’m sure as shit not joining Club Venus.”

She adjusted the SWA title on her shoulder. She was exhausted, and it was getting heavier by the minute. “But even though I know at the end of the day I can only really rely on me, myself, and I, I’m not really into the whole lone wolf thing, either. I recognize that there’s strength in numbers, and I’ll be taking my time to consider my next move. But for now, I’m gonna go put all this down because it’s fucking heavy, and then I’m gonna crack open a Sapporo and celebrate the sweet, sweet return of Two-Belt Nell.”

* * * *

Wednesday, May 3, 2023 Wrestling Dontaku – Fukuoka, Japan

The Stardom bus arrived at the Fukuoka International Center fifteen minutes before bell time. They’d had a show earlier that afternoon in Shimonoseki, and with Stardom running a pay-per-view in Fukuoka tomorrow, they’d loaded up and made the hour-and-a-half trip down for the NJPW show there that evening. And as soon as she could, Nellie shot off the bus like a bullet.

David had been back in Japan for two weeks, but Nellie had only gotten to spend a handful of hours with him. He’d arrived in Tokyo only to turn around and leave for the Road to Dontaku tour, and their schedules had kept them apart in separate corners of the country. And because of that, Nellie still hadn’t said those three little-big words.

They’d been on the tip of her tongue the day he’d come back. She’d felt them in the way he’d touched her, looked at her, in every breath during that abbreviated time they’d spent together before he had to leave to get on the bus. But she hadn’t wanted to say it only for him to be physically absent again. If she was going to tell him she loved him, she needed to feel it, live in it for longer than just a few hours.

And tonight, the timing was finally right.

She made a beeline for his dressing room, pausing impatiently when she ran into Aussie Open, and they both hugged her and congratulated her on winning the Wonder of Stardom Championship before she took off again. She knocked on the door when she arrived, and David called for her to come in. Her heart melted at the sight of his smile.

“Finally,” he breathed, and then his lips were on hers. Hungry, eager, heated, as if it had been two months instead of just two weeks.

But then Nellie had a thought. “Are you sharing this room with Kenta?” she quickly asked. She hadn’t noticed any other luggage around, but she hadn’t really looked, either.

David shook his head, a smirk on his lips. “Not tonight. We have this all to ourselves.”

That was all the information she needed. She pushed him down onto a seat and straddled his lap, and then they were the only two people in the entire arena again. David ignited her entire being in a way that no one ever had, mind, body, soul—heart. And before they lost themselves in each other, she needed to tell him.

She pulled back and looked down at him. His eyes were dark and hooded, full of desire. “What?” he softly asked.

“I love you.”

Nellie knew he felt the same, she knew he did—but there was still that anxious knot in her gut. Until a smile spread over David’s face.

“I was wondering when you’d finally say it.”

She let go of the breath she’d been holding. “Are you serious right—”

He silenced her with a kiss, and she melted into him like she always did. She loved him; he loved her. It was undeniable.

He pulled back, their lips still close, noses brushing. “I love you, too. I have since the fall.”

Butterflies exploded in Nellie’s stomach. “You have?”

“Mhm,” he nodded. “I spent that entire tour last year falling in love with you, and when I left Japan, it felt like I’d left part of myself behind. And then the night of Historic X-Over, when you called me after you got home from being out with the LA Dojo guys… I knew.”

Nellie’s smile lit up her entire face, her entire being. “I was drunk when I called you that night,” she remembered.

“Yeah, I know you were,” David grinned. “Which reminds me, I have to tell Clark he can’t take my girlfriend out and ply her with alcohol anymore.”

She laughed. “But it would just be a little Bullet Club bonding,” she innocently returned. It made him arch a brow.

“You saying you’re Bullet Club? Is that what I’m hearing?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know… that’s kind of up to you.”

He drew her closer on his lap. “It would be nice to have you out there with me when I win the title tonight…”

He trailed off and kissed her neck. She bit back a grin. “I don’t want to stir the pot just yet. I just won the Wonder of Stardom title; it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to ruffle any company feathers.”

David hummed against her skin. “Mm… yeah, you’re not ready. That’s not something someone in Bullet Club would say.”

Nellie playfully rolled her eyes. But he pulled her mouth against his again, and they let their bodies finish the conversation.

* * * *

Sunday, June 12, 2022 Osaka, Japan

For the longest time, this was all Nellie had wanted. To feel Jay again. To feel wanted by him again. And now that she’d finally gotten it, all she felt was uncertainty. Still.

She lay next to him in his hotel room, facing the other way, listening to him breathe. In and out, steady. Last night had been an intoxicating blur of adrenaline and emotion. She blamed Osaka, the romance of a different setting, the context of why they were there. Stardom and NJPW both had shows in the city; Jay had a match against Okada for the IWGP World Heavyweight Championship at Dominion that night. And last night, Nellie had felt like her body was a prize for Jay just as much as that title. Something for him to win, to take. Part of her regretted letting him have it. But another part of her still yearned to belong to him.

She felt him stir beside her, and then he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back against his chest. She closed her eyes and folded into him.

“Mm,” he hummed. “I missed this.”

He pressed his lips against her neck, and Nellie let him. But she couldn’t keep from asking.

“Did you?”

“Of course,” he easily returned. Almost as if he’d expected her to question him, as if he’d had the answer at the ready that he knew she wanted to hear. But then his mouth was working down her body, his lips leaving a trail of goosebumps over her skin, until his head was between her legs and his tongue inside her. And she gave into him, writhing and arching her back, curling her fingers in his hair until she came undone. And all the while, she didn’t stop questioning.

He kissed his way back up to her lips, his naked body hovering over her. His cock pressed hard against her inner thigh. She wanted it. She hated that she did. But she wanted him.

“Let’s get in the shower,” he breathed. And she let him pull her from the bed and lead her into the shower where he had her again, her back pressed up against the wet tile, legs wrapped tight around his waist as her nails left tiny moon-shaped marks on his shoulders. Because even though Nellie knew it wouldn’t last, that Jay would just be gone again come tomorrow, she wanted to pretend he was hers for just a little while longer.

* * * *

Saturday, May 27, 2023 Stardom Flashing Champions – Tokyo, Japan

Two defenses in just over a month. Nellie had said she’d wanted to be a fighting champion, and her challengers had quickly formed a line.

Natsupoi had been first, eager and determined. Nellie bested her in a main event twenty-minute battle in Fukuoka the night after David won the NEVER Openweight Championship. Tonight, it was Unagi Sayaka, defeated in just over fifteen minutes. Nellie wasn’t surprised that her former teammates had been the first to step up. They wanted to defend the honor of Cosmic Angels in the wake of her departure, even if there wasn’t any bad blood. But their efforts had fallen short—and Nellie was still an island unto herself. She was biding her time, weighing her options between Donna del Mondo and Queen’s Quest. This time around, the ball was in her court; she wasn’t going to fumble it.

She returned to the locker room after making her backstage comments and automatically checked her phone. David was flying in tomorrow after being back in the States for the last three weeks and change, returning early to spend time with her before Dominion and the next Stardom tour. She smiled when she saw she had a text from him.

Two down, fourteen to go. Proud of you, babe. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

Tomorrow isn’t soon enough, she returned with a kissy face emoji.

But David wasn’t the only one who’d texted her. So had Clark.

Congrats, champ. We’re going out to celebrate, right?

Her brow furrowed. Who’s we? she sent back. She and Clark were friends, but he could get too friendly sometimes.

His response came quick. You, me, and your Stardom friends. The hot single ones.

She rolled her eyes, but her phone pinged again. He’d sent her the name of a bar in Roppongi; of course that was where he wanted to go. She pursed her lips as she wrote back.

My hot single friends might already have plans, she told him.

Alright but if Dave asks it was your idea for just the two of us to hang out, not mine, he returned.

Nellie breathed out. As irritated as she wanted to be, she had to give him that one. But she sent him an eye roll emoji and said, I’ll ask Torr and Thekla and let you know, and threw her phone in her bag to head to the shower.

* * * *

As it turned out, Nellie’s hot single friends did already have plans—to go to a different bar in Roppongi. But that worked just fine for Clark, and he told Nellie he’d meet them there. And honestly, she hoped he’d get there sooner rather than later, because the current company was a mixed bag, to say the least.

Thekla had come, along with Giulia and Mai Sakurai, the three of which were in a celebratory mood—they’d won the Artist of Stardom Championship from REStart that night. Torrance had also come; it was the first time she and Nellie had gone out together in months.

But she’d brought Club Venus with her.

“They’re really not that bad if you get to know them,” Thekla told Nellie over the music as they sat together in the booth; all the others were off dancing or getting drinks. It earned her a skeptical stare. “I know, I know,” she returned. “You’re Team Tam even if you’re not in Cosmic Angels anymore. But Torrance is your best friend, and Mariah is practically her clone. Her much taller British clone, but still.”

Nellie laughed, remembering how she’d told David almost the exact same thing. But then Thekla changed the subject.

“And speaking of you not being in Cosmic Angels anymore… when’re you gonna bite the bullet and join DDM?”

Nellie breathed out. She’d expected this to come up.

“It’s been over a month, Nell.”

“I’m aware,” she replied. “But Giulia doesn’t seem nearly as eager to have me in DDM as Utami does to have me back in Queen’s Quest.”

She sent Thekla a pointed look over her drink. Thekla’s eyebrows arched in understanding.

“Giulia is hard to read, I’ll give you that,” she admitted. “And I’ll be honest with you—you’d have to earn her trust because of how close you are with Tam. Which I mean, can you blame her? Tam shaved her head.”

“Okay, but she rocked that look, though,” Nellie pointed out.

Thekla grinned. “She did, but still. The good news is you’re already halfway there.”

“Am I?” she curiously asked.

“Yeah. Because Giulia trusts me and my judgment—and I want you in DDM, dammit.”

Nellie grinned. “And I appreciate that. And as soon as I make my decision, I’ll let you know.”

“Look who we found at the bar.”

They both looked up. Giulia and Mai had returned, and they had Clark with them.

“I wouldn’t expect you to find him anywhere else,” Nellie quipped.

He set a shot glass in front of her and Thekla each. “Here, I bought us all a round,” he said, and then, in a higher-pitched voice, “‘Oh, thank you, Clark, you’re so sweet and thoughtful and also incredibly handsome.’”

Thekla snorted. Nellie's expression was deadpan. “I already regret telling you where to meet us.”

“Scoot over,” he said with a nudge of her shoulder, and she and Thekla made room so he could sit down while Giulia and Mai did the same on the other side of the booth.

“What is this?” Nellie asked as she picked up the shot.

“Tequila,” Clark said. “I remember what you like.”

She ignored the comment and brought the liquor to her lips.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he quickly stopped her. “We gotta toast!” He raised his glass and looked expectantly around the table. The girls all obliged. “To the success of Donna del Mondo,” he started, “and the restoration of fucking Bullet Club.”

A smirk pulled at Nellie’s lips, and they all toasted and kicked back the tequila, some grimacing more than others as it went down. “Okay, that one was for you, but we're getting whiskey next round,” Clark winced.

“What, can’t handle it?” Nellie teased. “I remember Gabe shooting tequila just fine.”

“A-heh-heh-heh,” he screwed up his face and mock-laughed in return. “But speaking of Gabe—I heard you’re gonna be at Dominion?”

Her brow furrowed in confusion; that segue didn’t make any sense. What did Gabe have to do with Dominion?

But before she could ask, Thekla interjected, “Wait, what? Isn’t Dominion the same day as our Korakuen show?”

Nellie nodded. “It is. But I told Rossy I want to be in Osaka to support David at ringside and that if he really wants to elevate Stardom’s global profile, he needs to start putting me and my two titles on NJPW TV.”

Thekla’s eyebrows arched. “And he agreed to that?”

“Mhm,” Nellie proudly returned. “I think he admired my nerve.”

“Hell yeah,” Clark grinned. “I cannot wait to see the look on ELP’s face when you walk out there with us.”

She gave him another curious look. Us? As far as she knew, Clark wasn’t booked to be at Dominion. “Okay, is there something—”

“What the fuck is this twat doing here?”

Nellie whipped her head around. She saw Torrance first, her face flushed from dancing. And then she saw Dan Moloney.

“I know you’re not talking about me,” Clark returned.

“Well, I don’t see any other twats sat at this table.”

Nellie shot a tense look at Torrance, asking with her face what the hell Dan was doing there. He and Clark had just tried to murder each other in their Best of the Super Juniors tournament match three days ago; the last thing she wanted to do tonight was pull apart another United Empire-Bullet Club fight.

Clark stood from the booth, and Nellie almost grabbed the back of his shirt—but then he greeted Dan like they were best mates.

“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight, man. You should’ve said something.”

“Yeah, well, kind of a last-minute thing. This one invited me,” Dan said with a thumb at Torrance.

Nellie, meanwhile, was at a complete loss. “I’m sorry—what?”

“I don’t know—men,” Thekla shrugged. “They beat the shit out of each other once and suddenly they’re best friends.”

Clark sat back down next to Nellie while Mai made room for Torrance and Dan on the other side of the booth, and Torrance and Nellie’s gaze connected again. Torrance tapped her phone; and no sooner had she than Nellie felt hers vibrate in the back pocket of her jeans. She pulled it out and read the text.

We may have hooked up. Surprise?

Nellie widened her eyes at her friend. She just shrugged.

Surprised and not surprised, she wrote back. I guess bro code doesn’t count for shit in UE.

She waited for Torrance to see the response. Her phone lit up—and she scoffed before quickly typing back.

Whatever, I don’t care. Will had already moved on to another warm body before my side of the bed was even cold.

Nellie read the text and gave her a look that said, “You’re not wrong,” before sending a written reply.

Maybe Dan isn’t even in UE anymore. Him and Clark acting all buddy-buddy right now is suspicious AF.

Torrance’s eyes went wide, and she typed quickly back. Don’t even joke. I’m so done fucking with Bullet Club boys.

Nellie just laughed; she’d thought the same after she and Jay had broken up. And yet, here she was, just days away from declaring herself Bullet Club, too—something that only she, David, and Clark knew.

As far as she knew, anyway.

* * * *

Friday, November 4, 2022 Osaka, Japan

Tomorrow would be David’s last show in Japan until he didn’t know when. It sucked—it really sucked. He and Nellie had only realized their mutual desire for something more than just friendship five days ago. But Nellie didn’t want to focus on their painfully poor timing. As it worked out, their schedules had synced up to give them a full day off together in Osaka, and they’d taken full advantage.

They started off with getting breakfast at an American-style diner, splitting chocolate banana pancakes and a bacon and cheese omelet because neither of them could decide which sounded better. Then they’d gone on the famous Osaka costumed go-kart sightseeing tour that Nellie had always wanted to try but never had the chance; she’d dressed up as Yoshi, David as Pikachu. Afterward, they’d stopped at one of the city’s numerous food stalls for deep-fried chicken and sticky-sweet rice balls before heading back to David’s hotel room, where they’d fallen asleep watching TV together on the bed. It felt so natural, so comfortable, so uncomplicated sleeping in David’s arms.

But when they awoke, it only made it that much more difficult not to think about how their time together was dwindling all too quickly.

“I don’t want to leave you at all,” David said as they still lay together, his arm around her, her head on his chest. “But I also feel like I need the time away for myself to reset; go back to the fucking drawing board. My G1 was shit; I really wanted that TV Title… I don’t know. I need to figure out what I need to do to stop just spinning my wheels.”

“Your G1 wasn’t shit,” Nellie gently returned. “Will won your block with what? Eight points? And you and everyone else but Juice finished with six. Most people finished with six this year. And if it helps at all, that TV Title is ugly as shit.”

David let out a laugh. “You’re right about that. And yeah, at least I did beat Juice. But it’s just one disappointment after another, you know?”

“I do know. You know I do. And I think you’re right. I don’t want you to leave, either. But even more than that, I don’t want you to get burned out from frustration.” She lifted her head to look at him. “So, take some time to do what you need to do, and then come back to me.”

He gave her a soft smile. “I know this probably feels like an uncomfortably familiar situation. But I promise, Nell—I’m not Jay.”

She shook her head. “I know you’re not,” she said, and she kissed him. She’d meant it to be just one, short and sweet, assuring; but neither of them wanted to stop at just one. David rolled her underneath him, and her hand unintentionally slipped under his shirt. Nellie wanted him; she wanted to cross that line. But she knew all too well that sleeping with him now would only make his absence hurt that much more—

And then her phone started ringing.

He pulled back. “Is someone calling you?”

She sighed. “Guarantee it’s Torrance.” Sure enough, when she retrieved her phone from the nightstand, Torrance’s name was displayed on the screen. David just laughed.

Nellie answered the call, and she and Torrance talked for a few minutes, figuring out what the plans were for the evening (“The Aussies and Jeff and Francesco want to get dinner with us, but I don’t want to be around Will,” Torrance explained). When she hung up, she looked back at David. The previous tension still hung in the air between them.

“It’s probably for the best she interrupted,” he softly said. “I don’t want to do that just to turn around and leave for I don’t know how long.”

Nellie sighed again. “I know. But you know you saying that only makes me want it more, right?”

He grinned. “Maybe that’s the point,” he teased, and he kissed her again. Once, tender and meaningful.

They got up from the bed, and David walked her to the door and told her to let him know when she made it back to her hotel—she wanted to shower and change before dinner—and Nellie made her way to the elevators. She looked down at her phone as one arrived with a ding; but when the doors slid open, a stone dropped into her stomach.

Jay.

He looked like he’d just arrived, luggage in tow, sunglasses on. He pushed them on top of his head and grinned. The cat who caught the canary.

“Well, fancy meeting you here.”

He stepped out of the elevator, but his suitcase blocked her way and the doors slid closed. Not that Nellie could move, anyway. It felt like her legs had suddenly turned to lead.

“Is Stardom in this hotel?” he asked. “I thought your show was in Nara tomorrow?”

She tried not to think about why he knew that as she answered. “It is, and we’re not. I’m here with David.”

It was more gratifying than she expected to say that to Jay’s face. And even though his face didn’t give much away, she could see it in his eyes. Resentment. But then he turned them down and nodded.

“Are you? That’s kind of surprising.”

Nellie’s brow hardened. “What’s so surprising about it?”

He shook his head. “Nothing—well. It’s just that when you started hanging out with him during the G1… I thought you were doing it just to get back at me.”

Anger bubbled up in Nellie’s chest. Shock, disbelief, to the point that she felt ill. She looked him dead in the eye. “If you think I would use someone like that, then you really don’t know me at all.”

She hit the down button again.

“Nell, come on,” Jay breathed. “What else was I supposed to think? When I got back to Japan it seemed like you wanted to fix things between us, and then next thing I knew, you were out getting drinks with my old best friend.”

“I did want to fix things!” she burst. “Against my own better judgment, I did! And what happened? You fucked me one last time—here, in Osaka, to pump yourself up for your World Title match—and then you disappeared again.”

His eyebrows arched. “Are you joking? I had other bookings; that was two weeks before Forbidden Door.”

The elevator arrived, but Nellie didn’t get on. “Okay, but you didn’t talk to me! You didn’t show me anything, Jay—nothing changed! And you know what David did? He showed me that he gave a shit about me.”

The elevator doors started to close, and Nellie caught them with her arm and stepped inside. She looked back at Jay. The resentment in his eyes had given way to something else. Guilt.

“Nell… I don’t want to leave it like this.”

She shook her head. “Now’s not the time,” she told him, and the elevator doors slid closed, putting a pause on the one conversation that she knew, eventually, she’d no longer be able to avoid.

* * * *

Friday, June 2, 2023 Tokyo, Japan

“You remember the last time we were in Osaka together?”

David asked the question as they finished packing. The big weekend had finally arrived. They were taking the bullet train down to Osaka tomorrow for Dominion on Sunday, and Nellie was buzzing with excitement.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about that,” she said as she zipped up her suitcase and moved it with some effort from her bed to the floor. “It’s crazy to think how much has changed since then.”

Everything had changed. Seven months ago, she and David had been reluctantly pulled apart from one another, both frustrated and floundering in their careers, nothing but uncertainty on the horizon. And now, they were both champions; David the leader of Bullet Club, Nellie on the verge of making her membership known to the world. It felt like they had the whole world ahead of them. And they were doing it together.

“I know,” David returned. “I’d never wanted to board a plane less in my life than I did after that show.”

“Even more than this last time you left?”

“Oh, for sure,” he answered, no hesitation. “Because when I leave now, I know exactly when I’m coming back. It was the not knowing back then that really made it hard.”

Nellie didn’t reply as she climbed onto her bed and settled against the pillows, her thoughts turning inward. After Dominion, David didn’t have any bookings until the G1, over a month away. And they hadn’t really discussed that—if he would extend his stay to spend some extra time with her before heading back home to Florida, if he would come back early before the tournament, if he’d even given it any thought at all. It didn’t worry her, per se; they’d both been busy. But now it was right there in front of her.

“Which, actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

She looked back at him, pulled from her thoughts. “What is it?” she asked.

He settled next to her on the bed, and the atmosphere suddenly felt different. Not tense. But important. Nellie felt her heart pick up a beat.

“I know we’ve been moving kind of fast since I came back in March,” David began. “But truthfully—and I think you feel the same—I don’t see the point in waiting if we both know what we want. And so… I’ve decided that I want to move here, to Tokyo. And if you want, I’d like us to get a new place together.”

If Nellie had been buzzing before, she was positively vibrating now. “Are you being serious?”

He nodded. “Of course. I fucking hate every time I have to get on a plane and leave you again. I hate it. And this last time I was gone, I realized… it’s not just my career that’s here now. My life is, too.”

He looked her in the eyes, full of love and trust, and her heart grew wings. “I would love to get a new place together.”

David smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yes, of course,” she said, and she kissed him. She couldn’t contain her excitement. “Babe! This is a big deal!”

“I know, but it’s what I want,” he reiterated. “And plus, this timing works out because I have a month-and-a-half off after Sunday, so that’ll give me a good amount of time to sort everything out and get my place in Florida packed up and shipped over here.”

“That’s a process,” she told him. “Trust me, I know from experience.”

“I know. But to be honest with you, I already started.”

Nellie smiled at him. “You did?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I had a feeling you’d say yes, so I figured I’d get a head start when I was home.”

“Oh, you had a feeling?”

“I did,” he grinned. “Come here.”

He pulled her into another kiss, and Nellie had never felt so much love, so much trust, so much understanding, so much faith that this was right. That everything she’d been through, that they’d been through, had purposefully brought them exactly to where they were now. And she couldn’t wait to find out what else they would build—together.

“I love you,” David said against her lips, and Nellie smiled.

“I love you, too.”

* * * *

Sunday, June 4, 2023 Dominion 6.4 in Osaka-jo Hall – Osaka, Japan

Nellie had thought she was the only surprise David had in store that night. Boy, had she thought wrong.

The first surprise came after the IWGP Junior Tag Title match. Catch 2/2 had staved off Intergalactic Jetsetters only for Clark to come strutting down to the ring—with a gold cap on one of his teeth and a too-orange spray tan, God bless him—and at first, Nellie hadn’t understood. No one had; he was outnumbered, what was he going to do? But everyone got their answer when Dan Moloney, who had been at ringside for the match, unexpectedly attacked Francesco and TJP, officially turning on United Empire and joining Bullet Club. And Torrance had texted Nellie almost as soon as it had happened.

Nellie I swear to God if you knew about this and didn’t tell me.

Dude I had NO idea I swear, I’m just as shocked as you are, she’d quickly sent back. But as Dan and Clark had walked back up the ramp, the sight of them together made a little too much sense.

“They’re gonna bring out the absolute worst in each other,” she’d noted. David had just laughed.

And then, the match after the next, there was another surprise.

After Bishamon had defeated House of Torture and United Empire to win both the IWGP Tag Team and Strong Openweight Tag Team championships, Alex Coughlin and Gabe Kidd had shown up in Bullet Club shirts and put the boots to them, declaring their intent and establishing their allegiance in one fell swoop. It explained why Clark had brought up Dominion after Nellie had mentioned Gabe last week. She had to admit—she was impressed.

But now it was her turn to be the surprise.

She’d never felt more confident than she did now in her BC Decade t-shirt, cropped to show off her figure; although, she wore her Wonder of Stardom Championship around her waist and her SWA World Championship diagonally across her chest, so she was mostly gold. David had explicitly told her to show off. “You’ve earned that,” he’d told her. “We run this fucking place.”

Excited butterflies teemed in her stomach as they all stood at the ready at the Gorilla curtain. David smirked down at her.

“Last chance to back out.”

She grinned and shook her head. “Not a chance,” she told him, and sealed it with a kiss.

His entrance music started. Clark and Dan went out first, followed by Gabe and Alex. They stood on either side of the stage, and then David went up the steps, followed closely by Nellie, Gedo behind her. She could hear the surprise of the crowd when they saw her, feel it course through her body, energizing her. It was a familiar feeling, but renewed. Different. Deeper.

They walked down to the ring, and while David’s focus was zeroed in on El Phantasmo, ELP was looking at Nellie. Except it wasn’t ELP; not right then. Right then, it was Riley.

“Seriously?” he said down to her. “You never once came out here with Jay.”

Nellie didn’t hesitate. “Jay never asked,” she returned, and David slid into the ring and attacked him.

Twenty-six minutes later, he was victorious. And Nellie hadn’t gotten involved; none of the other members of Bullet Club had. David didn’t need their help; he didn’t need them to interfere. This was a different Bullet Club than what it had been under Jay, a return to the original. And when they all joined David in the ring and raised up the Too Sweet above ELP, Nellie had never felt more like she belonged. Not in Cosmic Angels, not in Queen’s Quest, not even in Suzuki-gun. This was her home, beside David—and it just so happened to be in Bullet Club.

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