#and so she inadvertently left THEM all behind too.

[sanbantaishi]

Zutara Week 2024 – Day 3 ～ Echoes

“ The Waterbender and the Banished Prince”

Katara leaned against the cold bars of her cell and looked around.

The cell was cold and empty. No blanket, no mattress, no lamp...

The only light in the cell was the light of the torch burning over the guard's head in the corridor outside.

Katara's hands were still tied behind her back.

She was feeling the burning pain in her left elbow...on the back of her left shoulder...and her right wrist...spots burned in the fight with Zuko and his firebenders.

Her clothes, soaked in the river, weighed more and more on her body in the cold of the cell. The cold bit her bones and the burn marks stung her skin... But the pain of these wounds was nothing compared to the pain that Aang was feeling now.

a sob caught in her throat.

where was Aang now? How was he feeling? Had Sokka managed to get him to the physician? How was Sokka doing now?

Her mind was racing ...what was to become of them all?! ...

Katara took a deep breath...calm down...first she had to calm down...then, she had to find a way to escape this ship...and then...

Footsteps echoed in the stairwell.

The guard stood up.

Someone turned in the corridor outside and walked towards the brig.

Someone Katara knew well...

The root cause of all of her miseries ...!

Katara frowned. Not moving an inch away from the bars of her cell, she fixed her eyes on the gate of the brig that separated the four prison cells from the corridor outside.

The guard opened the gate for Zuko.

Zuko entered the corridor between the four cells, taking slow measured steps to the last cell on the right, and stood in front of Katara.

"Where's the avatar?"

inadvertently, Katara burst into laughter!

she didn't expect to hear those words from Zuko...

Or rather, she totally expected to hear Zuko say those words...!

That question was so obvious, so familiar, so platitude, that Katara could not hold back her laughter!

"You have nerves to laugh in a situation like this, waterbender... when you don't even know if the Avatar is dead or alive!..."

The laughter vanished from Katara's face, replaced by worry and anger.

"I can help the Avatar, if you tell me where he is...!.."

"And why should Aang need your help?!"

"You know very well why, waterbender."

"No I don't!"

"Don't play dumb!"

 Zuko clasped his hands behind his back and started walking around the corridor between the cells.

"Avatar didn't fight today..."

...

Snippets from Chapter three of Longfic “ The Waterbender and the Banished Prince”

Season 1 capture fic.

Angst Hurt/Comfort

WIP/yet to be published, hopefully soon ><

Rating General ～ K+

Read more on Pixiv ( link to be added soon >< )

Read more on Fanfiction.net  ( link to be added soon >< )

Happy Zutara Week everyone ^^

 and thank you so much for sharing all your great works this year too ^^

Zutara is forever ☀🌙

[the--days]

so it's like this.

you're young and you're scared and you're trapped in the feywild (happens to the best of us) with the love of your life. You're a half-elf and she's a fullblooded elf but you don't think about it very much because you're barely surviving day to day. And you get offered a deal to get yourself home again, and you take it. And the price of your freedom is that you leave her still trapped there, alone.

And then five years pass. And you age a century in that time, and you grow, and you change, and you find her again, and you're still in love, and you meet people, and you lose people, and you love them too, and you learn, and you start wanting a future again, and caring again, taking care of yourself, taking care of other people--

and after all of that, at the end of things, you find out the man responsible for all of the misery in your short, sad life has cast a spell which gives him complete control and ownership of you- mind, body, and soul (again. this happens to the best of us). And you are given the choice to stay under his thrall, and live a thousand years-- or to age and die, like humans do, and to be free of him.

And the love of your life is there, and you're married now, and she's still a full blooded elf, and you're still a half-elf, and you think about what that means a lot more than you used to.

And still, after everything you've learned-- you choose your freedom. You choose leaving her behind.

[leth-writes]

Yandere! Batfam x reader

Tried a different format for part 3.

You ran, down the hallway and thundered down the stairwell, sneakered feet slapping against the harsh concrete. You could hear Tim giving chase, racing after you. Yet, you didn’t stop. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be soulbound to someone you stole from, let alone someone who was threatening you right before you found out! You just knew that it would be an unpleasant experience, especially considering the animosity his family no doubt had for you. You burst out into the lobby, Tim close behind, and skidded to a stop. There, standing directly in front of you, was Jason Todd.

He was leaning against the wooden, warped table, leather jacket unzipped to expose his tight muscle shirt. His hair, complete with the little tuft of white at the front, was expertly styled to look perfectly messy. You had to admit he was cute, even if he was part of the now duo threatening your peaceful, if stressful, experience. His eyes flicked up from where they had been staring at his phone, which looked tiny in his hand, then widened in shock as yet another bond snapped into place in your chest. Your ring finger’s string, thick and jagged, now glowed a blood red, leading directly to his now slack hand. You stood halfway between the door to the stairs and the door outside, with Tim now standing just behind you and to your left.

“You feel it too?” Tim asked his brother, jerking his chin in your direction. His dark hair was mussed from the chase, though he remained poised, with not a bead of sweat on his forehead. You turned to face Jason fully, warily taking a step away from both of them, inadvertently putting yourself in a corner.

“Yeah. She our thief?” Jason murmured, eyes still locked on your own. You averted your gaze at the reminder of your actions. Shit. Of course, even when you met your soulfamily, you had to mess it up by stealing from them! You wouldn’t blame them if they rejected you completely and asked you to stay far away from them.

Tim nodded in response to his brother, stepping closer to where you now stood cornered. Jason loomed in the background, now texting and periodically lifting his gaze as if to check you were still present. “We aren’t mad. We just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting too… cocky. I mean, at first Bruce was ecstatic that someone was savvy enough to take some money. Work on uncorrupting the relief funds is slow going, you know? But this month you took so much that he was sure you were moving from relief to scamming.” He explained, hands raised as if to calm you.

“Listen. I’m sorry, I just needed enough to help cover rent for the building. Our new landlord hiked the rent up and no one can get jobs and we’ve all been so stressed…” You found yourself slightly tearing up. Jason clicked his tongue, pocketing his phone and striding forward to place an arm around your shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Water under the bridge. Why don’t we head to a cafe and you can tell us all about your new landlord?” he moved you forward with his arm, waving lazily at Tim in a gesture to follow. 

“Jason, we need to head back to the manor. If anyone spots her, it could put her at risk-” Tim started, looking irritated. “We’ll just go out for some coffee and get an explanation. We need to sort out the landlord situation, even if they won’t be living here anymore.” Jason interrupted, once again waving lazily. He seemed quite relaxed, a direct contrast to Tim’s tightly wound posture. “Wait- no! I’m sorry for stealing but I can’t leave my apartment!” You burst out, pulling away.

“You don’t need to apologize. Not like Bruce is missing a couple thousand. He’s got more than enough to be set for life. Let’s go chat at the cafe, I’ll buy you a bagel; you look hungry and you didn’t get to bring your groceries in.” Jason tugged at your arm, marching you forward as Tim rushed to walk next to the two of you.

You didn’t miss the implication that they had been watching you and were aware of your actions that day, but knowing they had been aware of you since the beginning, it no longer surprised you. You supposed that going to the local cafe, indulging in a treat you hadn’t had since long before you been working at that convenience store all those months ago, wouldn’t be too bad.

Not running was your third mistake.

[emeritusemeritus]

Fred Weasley headcanons

Just a few personal headcanons for our man, NSFW under the cut 🌹

SFW ✨

Still considers you his best friend even though you’re together now (you and George being tied in first place).

Calls you princess and sweetheart (both of which started as sarcastic remarks that stuck around and are now used as endearments).

Always ready to kiss you. Doesn’t care who’s around, once he can be open about your relationship he’ll kiss you anywhere, and passionately - except for in front of his mother.

Actual menace at school. You’re walking to your next class and you pass him in the halls? He lifts you up and spins you, shouts out your name across crowded, echoing corridors to embarrass you. One time he lifted you up onto the stone pillars outside charms and left you there. You had to wait to be rescued by Ron who was luckily passing by.

You tease each other constantly, bantering back and forth. He’s heard more ginger jokes from you than anyone else in his life, but he knows just how much you love him and his red hair so there is never any malice behind it, the same with his teasing of you. It all comes from a place of love and familiarity.

He’s a natural prankster and takes great pride in it but he knows your limits and would never intentionally cross them. One time he did inadvertently go too far and he’s apologised profusely and had been torn up about it, trying to win back your trust in anyway he could. George still says that it’s the only time he’d seen Fred be actually remorseful in his life.

Throws notes to you in study hall, usually by scrunching up large balls of parchment and throwing them directly at you, bonus points if he manages to bounce them off of your head. Always followed by a sickly sweet smile or a wink.

As much as he teases you, he’s the only one truly allowed to (even George is warned sometimes).

LOVES seeing you wear his clothes, specifically his jumpers or his old quidditch T-shirt’s that you sleep in. It makes his little possessive brain twitch seeing you wear his clothes so openly in front of the whole school, declaring that you’re his.

Looks for you at every one of his Quidditch games- it gives him a boost of confidence to know that you’re cheering for him. Wanting to impress you, he always plays harder and better, putting on a show.

The first time you’d attended a quidditch game as his official girlfriend, you had worn his green ‘F’ jumper and he nearly fell off his broom once he’d realised.

He’s incredibly supportive as a friend and boyfriend. Even though he knows that he is seen as the ‘meaner’ twin, he has a true sweetness to him that most people overlook but he’d do anything for you and his friends, even at great personal risk. He supports you in everything you want to do and always looks after you if you get stressed or disheartened whilst chasing your dreams.

He’s especially protective of Ginny, taking his role of older brother very seriously. He still says that he fell truly in love with you the moment he saw you running up and confronting Malfoy, who had been teasing Ginny after the whole Chamber of Secrets event. Upon seeing the commotion, Fred had run to help her, followed closely by George, but you had gotten there first and had verbally berated the bully before punching him square in the nose. You then pulled Ginny away, cast your arm around her protectively and had begun escorting her back to the common room even though you were originally going the other way. Only when you had met up with Fred and George did you eventually leave her and go to your destination, making sure that she was comfortable and safe with her brothers before leaving. You’d received a letter home and detention for three weeks for punching Malfoy and another late night detention for being late to class but you still maintained that it was worth it.

Will throw hands without a second thought at anyone who disrespects you. He’s incredibly protective and won’t hesitate to throw a punch at anyone who violates your boundaries. Minimal offences still demand punishment and it’s common for anyone who crosses you to suspiciously find themselves with boils, purple hair or spontaneously vomiting the next day.

He’s surprisingly needy in private and loves to cuddle. Loves having his hair stroked and played with. Always has to be touching you in some way, even just your feet touching in bed or a hand absently placed on your hip.

Cannot cook to save his life, even with the assistance of magic.

He LOVES being a twin but he’s actually terrified of having twins once you start trying for a baby.

NSFW🌹

Will try anything once. Fact.

He’s a master with his fingers. He knew how much you loved his hands even before you were together, having caught you staring at them multiple times. They’re long, thin and incredibly skilled.

Makes it his personal mission in life to learn every single one of your pleasure points and can anticipate your every reaction just by the sounds you make, having learnt each and every one.

Had a definite breeding kink but doesn’t actually want kids yet. The idea of knocking you up and seeing you pregnant makes him harder than he ever thought possible. It’s his dirty little secret.

Dirty talk champ- he knows how much you love his voice and how much it gets you off when he whispers absolute filth to you in the middle of sex but it absolutely riles him up too. It’s less of a calculated dialogue and more of a dirty, running commentary on how well he’s fucking you.

Big fan of quickies. He’ll literally fuck you anywhere if the mood arises, which is always. As much as he loves to tease you and make you wait, savouring your body, there’s nothing like a quick, hard fuck in his book.

Definite size kink. He’s 6ft 3 and you are definitely not. Along with this comes a specific show of dominance, his height making him tower over you which makes him feel powerful and in control.

Although it depends on the overall mood, he’s mostly still playful and teasing even during sex, as are you. Occasionally you will try and throw each other off their game. One time you purposefully moaned out Snape’s name to throw him off and it caused a three minute intermission as you both had to stop and laugh. He then swiftly pulled out of you, spanked you and then proceeded to fuck you harder as ‘punishment’ for moaning another man’s name.

He’s absolutely feral for you wearing skirts.

He likes the idea of public sex but after you were both once accidentally caught by George, he decided that he hated the thought of anyone but him seeing you like that and put an end to your more risky escapades. Semi-public is still fine, of course.

[lilacgaby]

Barbarian!Katsuki x princess/prince!reader? (Omg I love your stuff)

(a/n: oops this accidentally became like kind of a tangled!au LMAO, i'll write another one and make it actual royals soon)

katsuki was on yet another adventure, one to slay a dragon and add to his collection of teeth on his necklace.

he treked through the forests, fighting creatures left and right, using his magic and swordsmanship to slice everything in his way in pieces.

day and night he did this.. eventually ending up lost and being too prideful to admit it, even to himself, so he continued in the same direction. while he did not find the dragon's nest he set off for, he found an overgrown tower.

he scoffed at the sight, deciding he'd take refuge in it for the day while he gathered his bearings. he climbed up the vines that led up to the wide, opened window and walked in.

detailed on the walls were gorgeous paintings of every color, knitted blankets and decor scattered the room, and the skylight at the top tied it all together.

'wow, this is so beautiful.' he thought to himself, his tribal outfit standing out against the interior. he noticed a shadow behind him, the owner of this tower? as he turned behind to look-

he was slammed in the face by a frying pan.

he woke up, tied to a bed, his weapon out of reach and his hands to far to set off magic.

"tsk, what do you want from me? face me head on like a ma--"

he was cut off by the sight of you, wearing a causal dress, your eyes glimmering, skin popping thanks to the constrasting color of the dress. you wore expensive jewels he'd never seen before, and gold as if it was nothing. you were.. gorgeous.

you tilted his head upwards with the pan, staying a fair distance away from him. "what.. are you? i've never seen anyone like you." you questioned.

his demeanor changed, slightly mocking as he joked, "you treat all outsiders like this?"

"only ones that break into my home."

"...fair, however, why don't you tell me what you're doing out here all alone? princess."

you looked away as you said, "i.. i was banished from my castle. at least til i get my magic honed, my family are all magical so.. unless i become at least an average wizard i'll never be accepted back."

his eyes widened at this. banished? that was pretty harsh, especially since another alternative was just marrying you off early. "why didn't they just train you?"

"you never answered my questions first."

he looked annoyed, "i don't answer questions without being a free man, im a king and you'll treat me like one."

"you're a royal too?" she sshe rolled her eyes, moving to untie him. "well, king, don't hurt me or.. you'll get bad luck when you die."

he laughed, as she untied him. you were really pretty up close too, he almost wanted to grab your face so he could look you over closely.

almost. you stepped back, eyeing him suspiciously.

"anyways, mr king, you're a.. what do they call it?"

"barbarian."

"barbarian right, and don't you guys like these?" out of seemingly nothing, you pulled out tooths, huge ones, varying in size and quality,

all from dragons.

"how did you get those? those are practically impossible to find and you have 8?"

"i have them lying around.. i'll give you them but.. i want something in return."

he sighed, "yeah whatever you want princess, i'll have to earn those anyways so.. give me your best shot."

"i want..

you to take me to your kingdom and teach me magic!"

he deadpanned. he really wanted those teeth so..

"fine, saddle up princess."

you squealed, hugging him and inadvertently making him flush. you jumped around and scrambled to go pack your bag. after you finished, he helped you down the tower. he basically carried the both of you down, you landing on his lap as you fell to the ground, making you laugh.

the journey was long, but it passed by quicker with her company. they laughed together, shared the same cot most nights. he held her during the harsh thunders of the rain and after they'd fought some disfigured looking creatures.

he'd taught you some of his magics as you journeyed along, you were even able to beat some small creatures now. every time you did, he'd celebrate immensely, and once,

you'd kissed him on the lips in excitement and impulse. and he'd kiss back.

he grew fond of you, and you of him.

it was about two months time to get back to the kingdom, you were holding his hand, him close to you as he pushed you behind him, guarding you.

as he presented you to his family and the elders in his language, only one word stood out to you like a sore thumb.

betrothed, is what he referred to you as.

your face lit up with a smile, as he finished up and brought you outside.

you took on the task of setting 7 of the tooth's onto his necklace,

and when he asked about the 8th?

"oh, that's for our wedding day of course."

he turned as red as the ruby on his necklace.

[scorpioriesling]

Invisible String - Part 2

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warning(s): light angst if you squint. Please be advised; future parts might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.

Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.

SR’s Note: I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't begin the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- get excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night. (; Much love to all.

Tags: @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @talesofadragon @rcarbo1 @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kitsunetori (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You paced back and forth awkwardly around your room, not sure what to do with your time. Normally, you'd give Riley a bath and see her off to bed -- but not tonight. Her father had come home during dinner today, and you almost couldn't believe your eyes when he'd materialized before the both of you in the dining room.

Gods, you'd never seen her so excited to see him come home in all the time you'd known the two. She truly missed him when he was gone, just waiting to see her dad come home at the end of the day. You understood; to be honest, you worried some nights when he would be gone late, always apologizing like his timing was the end of the world. He failed to realize that it was his safe return you were more concerned with.

You paused, shrieks of laughter heard from the opposite end of the Wing and you smiled to yourself. Padding over to your open doorway, you peeked your head out, listening as Eris' faint voice spoke with his daughter, saying something that had her giggling once more before you heard the distinct sound of her door latching shut. You retreated back into your room, trying to find anything to busy yourself as the sound of his shoes drew nearer toward your room.

"Could I offer any help with the last of those?" Eris asks, leaning casually against the doorframe as he gestures toward the stack of heavy boxes piled in the corner of your room. You turn, crossing your arms and then uncrossing them, not quite finding a comfortable position.

"Um... well, I could probably get them, tomorrow." You shrug, biting on your lower lip. Eris' eyes study your face for a long moment before he chuckles, walking over to the pile and pushing up his sleeves with such grace. He lifts the top box, his arms flexing under the weight as he adjusts his grip under the edges.

You try, really, really hard not to stare.

"I'll leave these outside to be picked up in the morning, unless you needed them to be kept for something?" He asks, and you all but shake your head before he heads out of your room, leaving you in awe. You shake your head, get it together. That is your boss, for Gods sakes. You take a deep breath, pushing your hair behind your ears before reaching for the next highest box, barely reaching the upper rim before its contents nearly spill over on top of you.

"Cauldron damned-" your curse is cut off when the box doesn't completely dump out on to you, but is caught haphazardly between your hands and one of Eris'. His other one is wrapped around your waist, preventing your impending collision with the floor.

"Woah! Woah," he says, his voice much closer than you expected and you open your eyes you'd inadvertently squeezed shut. He loomed over you, holding you so close to his chest that you sucked in a breath, your eyes widening when they met his peering down at you.

"I'm..." you made to stand, and he lifted the cardboard from your hands. "I thought I could help with that one." You said sheepishly. He chuckled, glancing sidelong at you.

"Always trying to do everything," he muttered. "Honestly, I'm just surprised to hear Y/N actually say a bad word out loud."

You set your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow and ignoring his teasing remark.

"This is my mess, anyhow. I was just trying to help."

He turns, heading for the door once more.

"Allow me to help you for once, hm?" He says, winking and walking out. You roll your eyes, irritated at how warm your cheeks feel. You flit about the room, putting random smaller items away and folding a few articles of clothing as Eris makes the last few trips. When he comes back in for the final time, he sits on the edge of your bed with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

You look to him, noticing his exhaustion from the day again. "Thank you," you say, and he looks to you again. He offers you a small smile, leaning back on his hands.

"For all that you've done, helping you move a few boxes is incomparable." Your lips curve upward as you place a few more of your skirts inside the drawers of the dresser, averting his eye. After a few shared moments of quiet, he speaks again.

"This room... its... I'm glad someone is using it again." He says, his hand running softly over the duvet. You glance at him, his fallen expression puzzling as you go about tidying up.

"Oh?"

He's quiet again before he looks at you. "I used to avoid coming in here, after... well, after Selene left." He says quietly, and you pause. The air feels thick, you try to keep breathing evenly as your mind races.

"She... the two of you didn't share...?"

"No." He whispers, looking at the floor. "She thought only mates should share a room."

You shoved the drawer closed, walking slowly to the bedside and sitting next to him.

"I'm sure this is common knowledge by now, but our marriage was simply a transaction, a sign of goodwill between our courts." He let out a humorless laugh. "No magic, golden thread there."

For everything he'd done for his court, all the battles he'd won, every fight he'd fought and all he'd witnessed... this was a subject he rarely discussed, as it seemed tomdrag him down the most.

"Eris..." You said softly, reaching out a hand timidly and placing it on his arm. He braced lightly against the touch, and you leaned closer. "I'm so sorry that you were treated that way-"

He sniffed, his hand rubbing along his jaw quickly before he stood, your outstretched hand slowly retracting with the distance between you two.

"It's alright. Nothing for you to worry about, anyway." He flashed a humorless half-smile, and you stared up at him with concern. You could tell it was a tough subject for him, and you definately didn't want to pry; but he didn't exactly have many other people to open up to.

"Well... alright then." You say defeatedly. He nods, turning and heading for the door. He looks over his shoulder only once more before closing the door behind him.

"Sleep well, Y/N."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Apple juice, please?" Riley asks, and you pour her a fresh glass, delivering it to her awaiting hand. She sips quietly, then blinks a few times when you sit down beside her. "Oh -- thanks!" She smiles.

You nod, silently praising her good mannered habits. You could still remember when you arrived at the Forest House, the little spitfire was ordering people around at the ripe age of three. "Give this!" and "Do that!" was all she managed, and though her heart was pure, you did encourage better etiquitte; luckily, it stuck.

"Daddy said he have a surprise," she swung her legs under the table, some of her juice swishing in her cup. You raised an eyebrow.

"Did he, now?" You weren't sure what she was talking about, or if there really was a surprise at all. Eris had made haste this morning, rushing past you this morning on his way out the door. He'd barely kissed his daughter goodbye before he was on his horse and halfway to the border-

"He did! He said he had one." She insisted, and you nodded in understanding. What it could be, you had no clue.

"Well, lets finish our dinner so we're ready when he gets home, yes?" You suggest, and Riley agrees, jamming the last of her chicken nuggets into her mouth and chewing with maximum effort. You shake your head, smiling at just how normal the girl was. You were just glad she found joy in chicken nuggets still, and didn't request challenging dishes every meal quite yet.

Insisting on wearing her fluffy pink footie pajamas, Rylie then sat in your lap on the couch, her stuffed beagle clutched in her hands as you brushed out her wet-clean locks.

"Braid it pretty?" She asks, and you leaned in, kissing the top of her little head. She grinned, holding her little beagle's head to her lips and kissing it's head just the same.

"Anything for you, Riles," you say, getting to work on the long strawberry strands. She sits very patiently for a four year old; that is, until you've secured the band at the end of your work and the front door creaks open.

"Daddy!" She's up in an instant, running to the door with glee and clinging to her father's leg the moment she spots him. You stay seated a moment longer, listening from the living area but not quite ready to see Eris yet. After the tense conversation last night, you couldn't help but feel... awkward, after the conversation.

After a few minutes, Riley has retreated to the living room looking rather dejected. Your brows knit as she stalks toward you, her beagle hanging limply from her fingers.

"Daddy says bedtime. You take me please?" She says, looking down at the floor. You frown, your hands lifting under her arms as she wraps her legs around your waist.

"Of course sweetie," you try to sound upbeat, but she only lays her head on your shoulder. You pet her head, wrapping your other hand around her to keep her propped up against your waist as you make your way to her end of the Wing. You look around as you go, not seeing any sign of Eris on your way. He literally just got home, what the Hell could he possibly have to do right now?

Once you reach her room, you place her gently atop her plush duvet, her eyes half closed when her head touches the pillow. You pull a loose blanket over her legs, knowing sometimes she gets cold at night, and kiss her little cheek one last time before moving toward the door.

"Y/N," she whispers. Your eyes meet hers in the dim light, your fingers stalling as they reach for the glowing tableside lamp.

"Yes dear?"

"Can you please read? Please?" Her bottom lip trembles. "D-daddy always reads... he reads my book..." she sucks in a breath of air, and you rush over to her bed, taking her little hand in yours.

"Yes, of course honey!" You say, hoping she will feel better. "I would love to read you a story," you look left and right, searching for any tomes near her bed. She lifts a limp hand, her finger pointing to the book resting at the opposite end of her bed.

"You'd like that one? The Kissing Hand?" She nods, one tear slipping free and running down her cheek. You hastily grab the book, and she scoots over, making a space for you to lay beside her. You scoot close, reaching an arm around her and she snuggles close as you flip open the book. Her little fingers wipe her tear from her cheek, and you begin to read.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You weren't sure when you'd drifted off, but when you slipped back into consciousness, your back ached from its cramped position on the small bed. You looked around, the darkened room coming into view as well as the peacefully sleeping babe next to you.

You must have fallen asleep reading to her, you thought. Surely you'd left the lamp on though; its glow would come in handy now as you tried to slip silently out of her embrace, sneaking out in absolute darkness. At least the door was still cracked open.

You'd stumbled around quietly enough and made it down the hallway to the kitchen, the clock on the wall coming into view.

Four in the morning. Gods.

You kept walking, feeling along the walls until you found your bedroom door, and let yourself inside.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You woke up that morning to the delicious smell of cinnamon and sugar, the comfort of your plush bed surrounding you as the first light of day drifted through your curtains. You yawned, stretching out your arms and slowly opening your eyes.

Ahh, what a lovely morning.

Morning. The sun was out.

You threw the covers off of you hastily, your bare feet hitting the cold wood floors in a rush as you lunged for your door handle. Riley was surely awake by now, and surely starving. You bounded down the hallway, your steps faltering when you heard her familiar ramblings from the kitchen and registered the smell of food wafting through the air.

As you approached, you watched in pure shock as Eris stood over the kitchen island, his hand holding his daughters as he helped her spread icing over a tray of steaming cinnamon rolls, smiling and talking along with her. He hadn't noticed you walk in; but she sure did.

"Y/N! Finally! You're awake!" She squealed happily, and you forced a smile, still confused by the scene before you. Eris looked up then, his eyes meeting yours only briefly before he went back to the treats he was making.

"Good morning Riley," you said hesitantly, stepping closer toward the island. Eris' eyes flicked up again, snagging on the silk pajamas you'd changed into before collapsing onto your bed last night. You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Good morning. Eris." You said, and his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Morning Y/N." He said plainly before turning to Riley, lifting her off the counter and setting her on the ground.

"Bunny, why don't you set the table," he handed her the silverware and a few plates. "And we'll join you in just a few minutes?" She nods, skipping into the dining room, as Eris braces his hands against the countertop, his eyes locked on yours once more.

You stare back, shrugging when you can't understand the point of standing in silence. "What?" You ask. He sighs, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for the... discussion. We had. The other night, it was... highly, unprofessional." He nodded, looking down at the pan of cinnamon rolls once more. You raised an eyebrow, a soft laugh erupting from your lips and causing him to flick his gaze to you again.

"What is funny?" He asks, seeming a bit taken aback.

"Nothing, no," you say, smiling softly at him. "I just... Eris, I live in your home. I spend every day with your daughter. I think we're beyond professional, aren't we?" You say. He cocks his head to the side, a small smirk curving the side of his lips.

"I suppose we are, then."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Daddy. These cimanim rolls. Are. Delicious!" Riley grins with delight, Eris' expression a mirror of his daughter sitting next to him at the table. You watch the two and your heart swells; one day, you could only dream of having something so special as that.

"Why, thank you Princess!" Eris says, and she holds her chin high. You shake your head at her, and Eris' eyes meet yours, his face giving away exactly what he's thinking. After a few more quiet moments, he speaks up again.

"Bunny, I wanted to ask you about doing something fun today," he says, and Riley immediately perks up.

"Fun?" She asks, and he nods.

"In the Town Square, there is the Autumn Festival, and it would make me very happy as your daddy if you would go with me-"

"Yesss!" She shrieks, every single one of her teeth showing as she smiles in excitement. You can't help but feel so happy for her -- she deserves time with her father, and he's finally home to spend it with her, doing something she had been longing to do anyway.

"Ohmygosh I can't wait! I will wear my Princess dress so everyone knows I am a Princess, okay," she explains hastily, only pausing to take a sip from her glass of milk.

Eris nods, looking to you. "I figured you may appreciate at least a day off as well," he adds quietly, and you offer him a gentle smile. Truly, you didn't need one, but you appreciated his consideration all the same. Riley doesn't quite catch the incinuation, though.

"Y/N, you have to wear a dress. You can't borrow from me this time because you're too big," she says, hopping from her chair. "You have a dress?" She asks. Your eyes meet her dad's and his mouth opens to answer first.

"Bunny," he starts. "I don't think Y/N was going to come today," he explains. Rileys brows knit in confusion as she looks at him.

"Why not?"

"Well," he says, trying to tread lightly. "Maybe Y/N has other things she would like to do today. It's okay though; just me and you can go." He says, but Riley looks to you, her eyes looking you up and down.

"What... what else do you want to do though?" She says, and you chuckle.

"Riley, honey, today you can go have fun with your daddy, alright? Me and you play here everyday," You reason with her. She doesn't let up, and Eris studies you from across the table.

"Daddy -- can Y/N just come too?" Riley says. You sigh, looking to Eris for help, but he only stares quietly at you, a small smile on his lips.

"I really will just stay here-"

"Yes." Eris says, and you meet his eyes, Riley spinning in happy little circles at the end of the table. "Y/N can absolutely come with us today."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 25 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: A long weekend with your parents is exactly what you needed. But when they keep asking what happened to your car and inadvertently force you to tone things down in the bedroom, you and Bradley realize you have more to discuss than just a replacement for your totaled pride and joy.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, fluff, smut, loud sex in public, spanking

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

As soon as you and Bradley unloaded the Bronco and had your parents settled inside the Craftsman, you had the uncontrollable urge to fuck your husband. You were trying your best to listen to your mom as she opened up a bottle of wine from your refrigerator, but Bradley was standing on the other side of the island, nodding as he answered one of your dad's questions. Your husband looked hot, and it was then that you realized you hadn't had sex with him since Sunday night. Since before you found out your car was totaled. And something about the impromptu funeral he just threw for your car was making you needy.

Well. You fucked up.

"Bradley didn't have any more hotel points?" your mom asked, finally drawing your attention her way. It was almost laughable now. Bradley had made up the entire thing about the points that were about to expire last year. It was all a ploy to get them to stay at a hotel so you and he could do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted to do it, in your own home. You nearly moaned just thinking about it. 

"Nope," you replied softly, reaching down some wine glasses. "No more hotel points, sorry."

"Nonsense," your mom said, waving you off. "Your house is beautiful, but you're still newlyweds. We get it."

You snorted as you sipped your wine. "Mom, it's July. We got married in November. I don't think we're considered newlyweds any longer."

"Hmm," she hummed as she drank from her glass. "Don't tell Bradley that."

When you glanced over at him, he was already looking at you, a soft blush rising in his cheeks. He looked so damn good, shaking his head slightly like he was annoyed you weren't alone, but still smiling like he couldn't believe you were his. 

"That man adores you," your mom added, inspecting the label on the bottle of wine. "Make sure you let him know you adore him, too."

An hour later, after your parents had retired to the spare bedroom, you had Bradley's cock buried deep inside you with his hand covering your mouth and his voice in your ear. "Do you regret it yet?" came his harsh whisper.

Your legs were already shaking as he fucked you from behind, standing up just inside your bedroom with the door closed. You tried to nod as you grasped the dresser and the wall for support. Neither of you had even been able to take the time to get undressed; you just needed it that badly. 

"Yeah, well you should, Baby Girl. Oughta be filled with nothing but regret and my cum."

You tried to moan his name against his hand, but it came out soft and muffled just like he intended as he slammed into you. He knew better than to trust you if he removed his hand, so he kept it right there, pressed tight to your mouth to the point it was almost painful. 

"Next time they visit, they stay at a hotel unless we finish the attic," he grunted as his free hand found your clit. "You look fucking perfect in this little dress, and I'd have had you in the kitchen if they weren't here."

Then his lips found your neck, sucking hard as he fucked you until his thrusts became even more demanding. Your fingers quivered as you held onto the dresser for dear life as he managed to hit just the right spot inside at the same time his rough fingers pinched your clit.

Your orgasm left you shaking as you bit Bradley's palm so hard, he shoved two fingers in your mouth instead. "Fuck," he growled quietly. "Oh, fuck." Then his steady tempo gave way to short strokes and his lips came softly to your ear. "I love you."

He filled you up so well, your dress and thighs were a mess afterwards, and you had to waddle into the bathroom so you didn't drip onto the floor. "Oh my god, Roo," you gasped as you finally took the time to pull your dress off to get yourself cleaned up. He walked in to turn the shower on with his shirt balled up in one hand, and then he smirked as his cum dripped down your legs. 

"Just to be clear, I love your parents. I love when we get to visit with them. I love having them here. But I also love fucking you, and you and I both know you can't keep quiet."

You slipped past him and into the shower. "I know what you want me to say."

"Then just say it, Sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes. "You were right about the hotel. But I was trying to save money for the car."

He wrenched his jeans and underwear off as he joined you in the shower immediately backing you up against the tile wall making you thrum with need all over again. With his left forearm leaning against the wall, he tipped your chin up with his right hand and pressed his body against yours. He could have been intimidating if you weren't so in love with him and also outrageously turned on. 

"Money is not an issue, okay?" he asked, his voice nothing but a deep rumble. "It's never going to be an issue. Pick out the car of your dreams, and it's yours. We will figure out the rest as we go."

You whimpered, "Okay, Daddy." Then you were moaning into his mouth.

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

The next morning, Bradley felt a little bad about leaving you without a car, but Nat offered to stop by and pick you and your mom up for brunch. He also felt a little bad about how Bob got booted out of the golf foursome so your dad could join in.

Your dad was sipping a travel mug of coffee on the way to the golf course when he suddenly asked, "How did her car get totaled anyway?"

Bradley almost swerved off the road as he scrambled to point out the window at essentially nothing special as he said, "Did you see that?!"

"What?!" he asked in response, turning to look back.

Bradley swallowed hard and said, "Oh, nevermind. So, uh, how often have you been golfing this summer? Because I'm anticipating being pretty terrible myself. I haven't been out in months."

"Oh, well I told you about Jerry, right?" he asked in response, and Bradley knew he had your father safely distracted as he talked about his golf buddy that he'd known since college for the rest of the drive.

But the next issue arose when they actually made it to the golf cart and Jake started liberally handing out hard seltzers. "Oh, I've never had one of these," your dad told him. 

"They're great," Javy promised, patting him on the back with a grin. 

Bradley already had to share his clubs with your dad, but when he was tipsy by the ninth hole, Bradley had become his glorified caddy. When he looked at one of the cans, he realized why the three of them were laughing so much. These things had 12% alcohol by volume. 

"Jesus Christ," Bradley muttered, considering texting you for help, but you were probably out with your mom and Nat right now. And he was supposed to have your dad home by four for a beach cookout and fourth of July fireworks. 

"So why don't you tell us what you really think of your son-in-law, sir?" Jake drawled obnoxiously as he grinned back at Bradley. It was a shame Bob got the boot instead of Jake or Javy who currently couldn't find his golf ball even though it was on the green right in front of him. 

"Bradley?" your dad asked as if Bradley wasn't standing ten feet behind him. "He's great! Love the guy! Although I have the sneaking suspicion that he was the one who totaled my little girl's car. She just loved that ugly thing, you know?"

"Oh yes, sir," Jake replied. "I've seen that car many times, and it truly was nothing to look at. But what would you say if I told you I know exactly what happened to it?"

"Hangman," Bradley barked. "Tee off. Let's get a move on."

You dad didn't even seem to notice anything was off as he cracked open another seltzer and said, "Oh, there you are, Bradley. Have you tried one of these drinks? They are absolutely delicious."

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

You and your mom stood side by side on the front porch after lunch when Bradley got back home with your dad. He'd texted you to give you a heads up about the hard seltzers, but you were still surprised when he had to help your father out of the Bronco. He was completely drunk and wearing Javy's New Orleans Saints hat while he laughed hysterically. 

"Oh... shit," your mom said, and she started laughing, too. "Bradley must have had a fun time today."

You had to hold your own giggles at bay as you watched your husband try to wrangle your dad who was now walking to check if there was anything in your mailbox. 

"Mom, he's a mess!"

"Just think, if we move to San Diego, your dad can ruin Bradley's golf outings all the time."

You snorted. There had been some discussion earlier about your parents potentially selling the house in Maryland and making the move to be closer to you. It was all still hypothetical, but you loved the idea of having them nearby. However now you weren't so sure Bradley would share your sentiment. 

"No, no, this way, Dad," he was saying, trying to coax your father up to the porch. 

"How many did he drink?" you asked as your dad awkwardly patted your mom on the head before walking inside and collapsing onto the couch with Tramp licking his face. 

"Not that many?" Bradley replied, running his hands over his face. "I'm sorry, but Jake and Javy were a nightmare, too. I had to drop them both off, because there was no way they could drive. And now we'll be late for this neighborhood beach cookout."

"It's okay," you told him, wrapping your arms around his waist while your mom went to get your dad some water. "You got everyone home safely. It's so fucking hot when you're responsible." You kissed the scars on his neck and added, "We could always just make dinner here and watch the fireworks from the back patio?"

The way he sighed in relief let you know that he thought that sounded like a better idea. "Only if that's what you want to do."

"That's exactly what I want to do," you promised him. 

When you turned to walk away, he caught your hand and asked, "Did you give any more thought to what kind of car you want? I didn't like leaving you without one today."

You just shrugged; it still made you completely and utterly sad inside to think about it. You couldn't even imagine anything else parked in the driveway next to the Bronco. "No," you whispered. "Let's talk about it more next week? After they go back to Maryland?"

He nodded. "Serious conversations will include your car and some home renovations."

You looked from him to the couch where your dad was currently snoring and then back to him again. There was no escaping your parents at the moment. "Add San Diego real estate to the list, Roo," you told him with a peck on his cheek as you went in search of what you could make for dinner. 

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

Sunday afternoon was bright and gorgeously sunny. It was the perfect day for a baseball game. Bradley was nursing a beer at Petco Park while he held your hand, occasionally leaning closer to you so he could converse with your parents who were sitting on your other side. But every time he did so, it got a little harder for him to sit there and behave; you smelled so sweet, and you looked sinful in that shirt. Bradley could only think about the second date he took you on where you and he ended up on the Kiss Cam.

"I was wondering," your mom mused between innings, "how the car got totaled. Who was driving it?"

Bradley shook his mostly empty beer can and jumped to his feet, absolutely unwilling yet again to discuss the truth with your parents. "I am so thirsty," he announced, pretending he hadn't even heard her as you looked up at him with panic in your eyes. "Anyone else need a drink?" 

"I'll take a beer," your dad said, eyes glued to the game as the bottom of the inning started. 

"Absolutely," Bradley replied, silently shocked the man was still drinking today after his hard seltzer incident the day before. There was a beer vendor down at the bottom of the stairs, and Bradley hightailed it in his direction. 

He bought two and turned to look back at you. Christ almighty, he was so fucking horny right now. He'd been in the mood for bed rattling sex, the kind where your voice was hoarse from screaming his name. Last night you fell asleep before he even finished cleaning the kitchen and joined you in bed, and he didn't want to wake you just to clamp his hand over your mouth again. 

"Sir?" the beer vendor asked, trying to hand him the cans. 

"Thanks," Bradley grunted, taking two steps at a time to get back to his seat. He could wait for the loud stuff since your parents would only be here for a little while longer. As he settled in next to you, he passed one beer to your dad and pecked you on the cheek. "Dad, you're supposed to be on a diet," you reminded your father while he ordered two more hot dogs from a different vendor.

"Aww, let him have some fun," Bradley said. "He's on vacation."

You rolled your eyes at him, probably annoyed that he ditched you to answer your parents' never ending attempts at learning exactly what became of your little shit mobile. "You're not helping, Roo."

Your mom just shook her head. "Your father has no self discipline. I'm referring to the junk food as well as yesterday's seltzers."

Bradley leaned in close to your ear and kissed you before whispering. "Is that where you get it from, Baby Girl?"

You quickly turned toward his smirking face. "I have plenty of self discipline," you told him defiantly. "Except when it comes to one thing." You let your hand drift up his thigh slowly as you turned toward the baseball game, feigning interest in the player up to bat. And then you gently palmed Bradley's cock through his jeans and squeezed.

He grunted, but he didn't move your hand away. Rather, he said probably loud enough for your parents to hear, "Do I need to discipline you right now?" It was honestly a wonder they hadn't pieced together what really happened to your car.

Bradley bit back a moan as your lips connected with his earlobe, and you whispered, "I need it." That's exactly how the two of you ended up in the family bathroom, with your jeans and panties pushed down around your thighs and your hands planted on your knees.

"You can't keep your hands to yourself in public, can you?" Bradley asked, rubbing his large palm along your ass and down to tease your pussy with his fingers before spanking you hard.

"No, Daddy," you whined, wiggling your butt back toward him for some more.

He spanked you again. "What's your punishment for grabbing my cock in front of your parents?"

You moaned so loudly, the sound echoed off the tiled walls. "Spanking," you answered, but it really wasn't a punishment at all. He knew it. You knew it, too.

As his palm connected with your gorgeous ass over and over, you didn't even try to keep quiet. Bradley let you be as loud as you wanted here since you couldn't scream his name at the house with your parents there.

"You are doing so well, Baby Girl. You ready for me to fuck you now?"

"Pease, Daddy!" you nearly shouted, and then he was inside you.

He wasn't going slow or trying to make you feel good, he was just fucking you hard and fast. Which was definitely working for you, based on the sounds you were making.

"You're always so fucking wet for me," he growled, hands wrapped tight around your hips. The slapping sounds of skin on skin filled the small space, along with his panting and your whimpers.

"I need it, Daddy," you gasped, voice getting higher as he felt the first squeeze of your pussy around his cock.

He grabbed your waist tighter to keep you steady as he said, "I'm going to fill you up. Fuck you full of my cum. And you'll keep it inside you for the rest of the day." His palm landed on your ass one more time, and then you were spiraling into your own orgasm as he came in your pussy.

A moment later, he watched his semen soak through your lace panties and drip down to the inside of your jeans as you pulled them up. "Oh my god, I love you," Bradley groaned as you opened the door. The line of unamused people waiting for the restroom had you and Bradley laughing as he wrapped his arm around you.

"That was fun, Roo," you said with a grin, placing a kiss on his neck. "I really learned my lesson, too."

"No, you didn't," he whispered, squeezing your waist and making you giggle as he led you back to the seats. "You're a brat, Sweetheart." 

But now he was thinking about how badly he wanted this to be the one that took. He'd spend the rest of his life talking about how he knocked up his wife at a Padres game, but he knew it probably wasn't possible. While he tried his best not to think about it too much, he knew vaguely when your cycle would be starting. 

He pulled you a little closer to his side and kissed your forehead. It didn't matter though. He wouldn't trade this feeling or his smiling wife for anything else in the world. 

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

You were always in tears when it was time to say goodbye to your parents. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted them to sell your childhood home and move to California, but you thought you'd better wait a few days before really discussing it more with Bradley. 

Before you met him, he'd been on his own for so long, you were beginning to think he struggled a bit with sharing his space, which was kind of a revelation since he had never been that way with you. He had welcomed you to move into his home with him almost as soon as he purchased it, and you only saw a few glimpses of frustration from him in those early days. Bradley had an ease about him that made you feel comfortable, but you still knew he'd never truly opened himself up to a woman before you, and that included his living space. The fact that he loved and accomodated your parents as much as they did for him was important to you.

He unloaded the luggage from the back of the Bronco while you hugged your dad and then your mom on the sidewalk outside of the departures door for the airline. "I'll let you know if I'm coming to Annapolis for work in a few weeks," you whispered as your mom kissed your cheek.

"We can try to have dinner together one night," she replied. You watched your dad shaking hands with your husband before he pulled your dad in for a hug. 

"That sounds nice," you told her as tears blurred your vision. You'd been crying so much recently, feeling overly emotional about your car and spending a ton of money on something that you didn't deem necessary. But these tears were the welcome kind. Your heart felt full of love instead of disappointment. 

As your parents disappeared through the sliding doors, Bradley wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. "It's kind of late, but when we get back to our quiet house, we should talk about a new car, renovations to our house, and the San Diego real estate market. Me and you and a bottle of wine." Your eyes fluttered closed as one big hand slid down over your belly before settling on your jeans zipper while he kissed your neck. "Just as soon as I fuck you so hard in our bed that you're screaming my name with tears in your eyes."

You moaned as your parents waved through the window, and you and Bradley waved back before you spun in his arms and looked up at his warm eyes. "Take me home right now."

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

Bradley was a sweaty mess underneath you as your head came to rest on his shoulder. His heart was still pounding, and his cum was slick and sticky between your pussy and his abs. The sound of your voice, soft and hoarse in his ear, gave him goosebumps as your fingers ran up and down his bicep, slowly tracing his tattoo. 

"I love you."

He turned his head to kiss your cheek and rub his mustache along your ear until you laughed. 

"You were loud as hell, Baby Girl," he rasped, knowing full well that he'd been vocal, too. 

"Yeah, well, it's nice to have the house to ourselves again," you responded as you yawned.

"I knew you'd see things my way." Very gently, Bradley asked, "Do you want to talk about new cars?"

Another drawn out yawn escaped you as you rolled off of him. "No, I'm too tired, and I don't really feel like it."

Bradley kissed your shoulder as you burrowed under the blankets. Getting you to focus on this task was clearly going to take as much stamina as he'd just given you in bed. "Fine. We'll do it later."

"Mmhmm," you hummed. "I love you."

"I love you, too." 

But Bradley wasn't ready for bed yet, and he knew that the next time your mom and dad were here, he'd need the physical separation. After he got himself cleaned up in the bathroom, he pulled on his boxer briefs, and Tramp followed him upstairs to the huge open space that the two of you only used for storage. It would be a project, but it would be worth it.

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

If any of this sounded familiar, it's because we have reached this exciting point in the story of Roo and BG. Thank you for being here! Thanks for reading and reblogging and putting a smile on my face. Big thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 26

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[bloggerspam]

Chapter 1: Beginning of an End

For @sheabeeprime and @uniasus for this year's @phicphight !

===

The thing about Fenton is that he’s not…..subtle. 

Star thinks about this as she watches him struggle with his locker. Kwan’s just about to offer to help—she can see it in her peripherals—before Fenton groans, looks left and right (completely missing them loitering across the hall directly behind him) and sticks his hand into the locker. 

He’s fiddling around with the lock, trying to unlock it, instead of doing the completely reasonable thing and just. Grabbing the thing he wanted to grab. Why bother with the lock at all if he’s just gonna stick his hand in anyway?

She and Kwan share a look at that. Kwan scratches the back of his head, looking around to see if anybody else could tell him what to do, before settling on her pleadingly. 

She sighs, shaking her head and closing her eyes against the headache that she feels coming on. It’s Senior Year. You’d think after 3 years, Fenton would get better at hiding, not worse. 

But then again…it did take the majority of Casper High a year to even realize something was wrong with the boy.

She thinks about that, before correcting herself. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s just….not all right either. She shakes her head, walking off to the nearest classroom door. It’s early in the morning so the halls are still relatively empty. Star and Kwan are only here because of morning practice. 

She wonders, idly, why Fenton is so early. He’s usually late, but then again the ghosts have been getting better about leaving him alone these days. Fenton’s lost those wretched eye-bags he kept carrying around like Paulina and her prada bags. 

She opens the door softly, placing Kwan in front of her and placing her hand on his broad back, as if pushing him out. She slams the door behind her, pushing Kwan who blessedly goes with it. 

“Star! What’s the rush?” Fenton jumps, yanking his hand out and inadvertently tripping the locker open. 

“We’re gonna be late to practice.” She says, primly. 

“Alright alright, oh, hey Fentino.” Kwan chuckles, as they pass by Danny. 

He flinches, picking up the books that spilled out. “Hey, Kwan. Star.” 

He starts pulling at his sleeves, always long sleeved nowadays, but no sleeve is long enough to cover the scars that litter his wrists and fists. She gives him a sweet smile, staunchly ignoring the way his answering nervous smile has too many teeth. 

“Morning Danny. See you later.” She stops pushing at Kwan to pull up beside him. He takes her hand, squeezing it gently as they make their way down the hall. Just before they turn the corner she sees Danny stare at his hand in fear. He flexes it, and she notices that it has claws, before they disappear and he breathes out a shakey sigh.

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Kwan says softly. She looks up at him, and his sad far away stare. 

She doesn’t want to answer–doesn’t want to face the truth of it. But this is Kwan.

“Yes.” Of all the A-listers, she’s the only one that seems to be on neutral terms with Danny, and the only one who see exactly how many times it’s been a close call. 

His hand squeezes hers, and the rest of the walk to practice is deathly silent. Because what can you say to that? Nothing. 

She squeezes back. 

[iron-embers]

Spirits are the souls of loved ones that have left the living world, some pass on to the threshold of reincarnation, some haunt the living with their past regrets and unfinished business. But some…linger. While they hold no malice to cause suffering onto the living, some spirits feel they are not yet ready to leave. Not when they worry for the well-being of those they left in the land of the living. Despite the circumstances of her passing, while not having any problems left behind, Ruka worried for her young sons she could not have the opportunity to raise herself. Worried that the neglect her husband inadvertently caused would make their sons suffer, she lingered. Hoping to watch over them in her own way, she is drawn to the sound of silence and warm light coming from the open door. Quiet snores came from their bedroom, and watching another care for them while bittersweet, gave a sense of relief to her soul seeing their peaceful faces lost in the world of dreams. Just as the woman with eyes like honey hummed with content as she fixed the blankets, so did Ruka watch on with a knowing smile, her ruby eyes glittering with a comforting gaze. Her sons were alright, they were not alone…..but did her husband feel the same?

Looking over her shoulder, she was met with shadows, and through the dim light could see a hunched form. Too lost in his own thoughts, tormenting himself with those doubts that clouded both his mind and his features. She remembered he used to look softer, more confident with his kindness……and yet his once warm bright face…..now ridden with inexplicable exhaustion. Seeing her husband cause himself such pain, refusing to sleep and instead holding onto that bottle as if it could bring him any comfort. From where the spirit stood she could sense his unease even with his back turned away. He didn’t seem to want to acknowledge the open doors behind him, as if seeing the sons she left to him could not ease his broken heart…..it brought a deep sorrow to the spirit to see him like this. As much as she wanted to comfort him, to urge him to look at their sons, she knew the world of spirit had no foothold in influencing the living like that. No….all she could do was watch him wallow in grief, and yet even then she hoped. Wishing he could see that even with her absence, he was not alone and was loved. Praying that he would be able to get himself out of the hole he was digging for himself. Hoping he would one day turn around and look into the light without shame or fear, that he wouldn’t be afraid of being there for his sons…..Before it was too late.

Back on a wonderful Saturday to bring in the angst train😂🤣😭. I feel Ruka had always been there in some capacity, brought on with the worry of the family she left behind. Seeing her sons thriving and peaceful is a relief…but seeing the sadness Shinjuro is still going through brings a pain to her. Ruka would have given anything to be back with them, but she has accepted that it cannot be, and that moving on is part of living and creating a good future. Concerned that Shinjuro is blinded by his own sadness to see that his sons still need him, more then ever now that she can’t be there…all she can do is hope that he will realize it before he will regret not being there when it matters most. Hatomi may not see her, but I’m certain Ruka would be happy that she chose to be there for them. Ruka as the mother of the two blessings she left behind, appreciates that her sons are being looked after by another mother that made the conscious decision to protect them. Hope ya like and feel free to ask questions if you wanna know more!

[holybibly]

Divine Rosa  ❢ot8xreader❣ 

❣ Pairing: yandere!otx8 x reader

❣ Genre: Dark Romance, vampire au, angst, horror, yandere au, smut

❣ Word Count: 8.5k

❣ Summary: The moth always pours itself into the flame; what a pity that in the end it burns out. After the tragic death of her sister, MС tries to find answers to the questions she left behind. This leads her to a gated cottage town known for its luxurious rose gardens. In addition, there are also these mysterious men who manage all the affairs in the city. Too sweet, too helpful, too intrusive, and too in love.

❣ WARNING: only!18+ Themes of death, suicide, severe depression, stalking, blood, yandere behavior, panic attack. Sexual themes: hematolagnia, body worship, masturbation, bite kink, olfactophilia, voyeurism.

❣ Disclaimer: I don't support yandere behavior, stalking, or religious imposition. Themes include violence, obsession, possessiveness, and emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended solely for entertainment purposes.

❣Chapter 2: Wolf in sheep's clothing❣

Love is a word that deserves closer consideration, halfway between the dry hypocrisy of the dictionary and its deep sacral meaning.

What a strange feeling…

Love, both virtuous and vicious, motivates us to accomplish great feats yet also triggers the commission of heinous crimes. This mysterious and inexplicable feeling interweaves its complex structure within us, becoming the most unstable, contentious, and hazardous of all human emotions.

Love is the fundamental source of all our emotions and experiences in the world, both beautiful and disgusting.

Love has a multitude of motives, including the desire for control, submission, care, seduction, lust, protection, worship, creation and, of course, destruction.

The feeling is manifold; We can call this complex emotion by different names, including passion, hatred, obsession, alienation, objectification, mania, unattainable dreams, happiness, idolatry, spiritual unity, and possibly the most poetic of all—the second half of the soul.

Humans crave love from birth until death. This desire is inherent and everlasting. As we take our first breath, we unconsciously absorb the toxic essence of love, which settles in our lungs like delicate, silky flowers.

This need is woven into the very structure of our DNA, an animal instinct that inadvertently condemns us to eternal suffering.

Love exists as a palpable entity, often obscured by human perceptions of carefree happiness and joy. It can be likened to a lurking deep-sea creature, concealing its true visage, branching and moving under the thin surface of our skin.

She is as cunning as a murderer's grin, and she is well aware of the inevitable tragic end of every story she is about to tell. Though we may be in the belief that we have had a joyful life, in reality all our actions have been under the impulse of love. For the sake of this deceptive feeling, which unites us for a moment in the ecstatic joy and privileges of angelic ugliness.

In the end, our physical bodies will serve to feed the earthworms, to house the larvae and to nourish the roots.

Never again will they gaze into each other's eyes, never again will the turquoise flame passion between them ignite, and never again will their lips meet in a voluptuousness kiss. 

Love has the power to drive us insane, to blind us, and even to lead to our demise.

And yet, in life, it is possible to miss everything but love.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

 3rd POV 

I want to fill my mouth with your name. I want to eat you whole. Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems, and a Song of Despair

“You look pathetic, San. Don't you think so? I wonder what Seonghwa would say to that?” Yeosang lazily runs his pale spidery fingers over Yoru's silky black fur, looking with contempt at the naked brunette stretched on a pile of knocked-down sheets and pillows.

The rings on his hands burn with blood, like the eyes of the Devil.

San looked blissfully relaxed and languid, like a caressing predator. His golden skin seemed to glow from within with an otherworldly glow as the translucent sunlight greedily licked his body with its soft touch.

Still, there was something vaguely animalistic, almost primitively predatory, about him, which in no way connected him with the arrogant aloofness that was inherent in the entire vampire race.

There was hot blood running through his veins, making him even more dangerous.

He was unbridled.

“I don't care what Seonghwa says, if he says a word at all in the next few centuries. Personally, I would prefer that his magnificent body continue to rest in the coffin for a very long time.” A smug smile played on his sensual lips. “And unlike you, my dear brother, I don't hide my true desires.” A slow, almost lazy glance from San's silvery eyes swept over the slender body of Yeosang sitting in the chair, lingering for a moment on the pale pink patch of soft skin on his temple.

He imagines, not without pleasure, how, with particular cruelty, he tears it from the porcelain face of his beloved brother with his long claws, leaving behind a wet, gaping wound.

San hated it. His birthmark is indisputable proof of his connection with his beautiful Rose.

The sign that binds their souls tightly into a single whole.

He should have found her first that night.

“Look at you, Sangie. You act like a coward, hiding in dark corners and wandering in her dreams. Perhaps I could understand you if your wayward antics gave her pleasure. If our Rose woke up with your name on her lips, all wet and needy, so desperate for more.

You have to ignite her passion and her desire to be loved, make her feel special, and fill her with thirst and hunger for our touch and our love. All her thoughts should belong only to us. But how did we end Yeosangie? Tell me, huh? Our Rosa has an animal terror before you. Sarang is afraid of you. Isn't that really pathetic? You know, I can smell that sweet scent of fear on her sheets.” San buried his face in the soft fabric of the silk pillow on which Sarang usually slept and took a deep, slow breath. “So damn delicious… I want to eat her whole.”

All he wanted now was to feel her from the inside, so that her scent would stay forever in his lungs, merge with his blood, be absorbed into his skin, and become an integral part of it.

God, he is prepared to worship this woman and idolize her in every conceivable way. 

She was his.

Not in some figurative or metaphorical sense, no. She was his everything. A soul that fills the shell with his dead body, blood black as night, that runs through his veins, his thoughts. Every second of his life. San couldn't tell where he ended, and she began, for you were two halves fused together into a single breathing living being.

The beginning and the end of his life

If he could know death, which was no longer possible for him, he would be happy to suffocate on that heady aroma that was spinning his head like a powerful drug. And to do so until death takes him into his arms.

How beautiful would his death be! Silk sheets, roses, and Sarang are the only true loves.

“She smells so divine, Sangie; how can you resist this temptation?” His back arched gracefully. Under the golden canvas of the skin, the jagged vertebral bones were outlined, and the flexible muscles were stretched like tight velvet ribbons. The relief of his chiseled abs pressing against the bed, his thighs rushing up, creating a perfect s-line.

He moved so smoothly. A large predatory cat, draining gross sexuality and animal dominance. A true erotic vision, fringed by the diffused glow of the lazy midday sun. The smell of her fear brought out the worst in him and made him crave to devour her heart and soul, but he couldn't do it.

“You don't know shit, San. You come here whenever you want and act like a cranky kid, pouting and expressing anger because you couldn't get her first. What a pity, because I was the one who made the connection. I can feel her; I can feel her in my veins; I don't have to act like a bitch in heat fucking her bed.” Yeosang's voice was indifferently cold, so deceptively calm, but San could clearly hear the poisonous malice in every word he said.

It looks like he hit a nerve.

“You tell me you'd never been in my place, Yeosangie?”  San grinned, and on his cheeks appeared charming dimples. “You never could lie;you always spilled everything to Seonghwa like a good puppy at the first snap of his fingers. You should ask Wooyoung to teach you some lessons if you want to play games with me. We all know exactly what you do, so didn't be shy about it, honey. Do you think you can hide from Hongjoong your little dream manipulation, constant stalking, and night visits? Or how pathetic and pathetic you look, whining and wriggling like a whore when you come in with her dirty laundry, which you hide under your pillow. Oh my God, what will Seonghwa say when he finds out? You should care. Our good boy has gone to the dark side; he's going to be so disappointed that he lost his mutt. Although you know, maybe you and Wooyoung aren't as different as I originally thought. He's just as pathetic a puppy as you are, my beautiful brother, and look how that turned out for him. Perhaps you'll be the next one to end up in a coffin. I'd change my behavior if I were you. Bad boys get punished.” There was mockery and outright bullying in his voice.

That's right, they were family; their loyalty to each other was an unbreakable blood oath, and if necessary, they would be willing to die for each other. Blood is thicker than water. But the bond they shared with Sarang was different from anything that could be explained. She wasn't a missing part; to think so would be foolish. No, she was a part of themselves, a part of their dead souls, filling their bodies with a semblance of life. Something extremely more dangerous than any possible blood bond. A bond where the lines between reality and fantasy, obsession and morality, understanding and rationality were blurred.  And that bond was the reason, why Wooyoung, Yunho, and Seonghwa were still resting in their luxurious coffins. Iron, velvet, and crystal—so completely different, so frighteningly the same.

San remembers with pleasure how good it felt to drive stakes into their black hearts. The spell would be broken with a kiss. Perfectly. He hopes their sleep will be eternal. This time, it should be different. He will be the first, yes. San will be first—not Seonghwa, not Hongjoong, not Wooyoung, but him.

That's right. Everything will be the way it should be from the beginning. After all, he was the one who started it all.

Once upon a time, Sarang belonged only to him.

“San…” Yeosang hissed menacingly, digging his bony fingers forcefully into the soft feline fur, causing Yoru to meow painfully and curl up into a ball in his lap. His fangs bared, scratching his plump lower lip, and black veins trickled in an intricate pattern down his thin neck.

The brunette laughed and rubbed his cheek against the soft fabric of the pillow, covering his eyes dreamily.

The silk felt wonderful against his bare skin.

“You hiss like a kitten; will you show me your sharp little teeth?”

“You'd better watch out for your tongue, or I might rip it out.” The fierce gaze literally stabbed him. It burned and penetrated to the core of his being.

“I dare you.” The bloodied lips opened, allowing the pointed tip of his tongue to traverse the tortured, swollen flesh, licking away the blood that seeped to the surface.

“Let his lips be like rose petals - red as fresh blood.” Said the Queen Witch.

San covered his eyes and completely ignored the angry brunette. He loved to play with fire. It was his nature. If it had been Hongjoon or Mingi in Yeosan's place, he might have thought twice before poking the tiger with a stick, and of course he would never intentionally offend Seonghwa; the outcome of any of those confrontations would not have been in his favor. But this was Yeosang - airy and gentle as melting snow.

The shadows of San's long eyelashes lay in a lacy pattern on his heart-wrenching cheekbones. They were one of the most striking features of his appearance - sharp and angular - and they made his face a masterpiece. A creation skilfully crafted by the hand of a master.

Yeosang's beauty was soft and angelic, the kind of beauty one might see on the faces of the winged, plump cherubs beneath the vaulted ceilings of Gothic cathedrals. He had once admired their beauty so much, especially when he tore their flesh with his claws and tore baby, fluffy wings from their pale, soft bodies.

Such an exquisite, decadent taste.

San's beauty was of a completely different kind: vicious, dark and hypnotic. Chiseled like the eternally frozen perfection of a pagan marble god, every line of his face was sharp and deadly seductive. From the feline cut of his eyes, shimmering with silvery immortality, to the capriciously curved corners of his plump lips, always inflamed and soft, so tortured and tender from incessant biting and kissing…

San's appearance was sinful.

He was the most desirable of all nightmares, the special kind that seduces the girls of the church, then fills his bathtub with their blood and organizes orgies in the bloody pieces of their torn bodies. San was formidable and intimidating, but his aura was alluring and seductive. The terrible prospect of an inevitable end and death had never looked so appealing. Maybe he was having an affair with you, or maybe he was going to kill you. There was lust, danger, and rage. There was a delicate balance between horror and desire, as if he were the embodiment of both the horror and the charm of God. He was the man everyone secretly dreams about when they caress themselves before going to bed, in a cold, lonely bed.

He was the person who made you feel uncomfortable in your own skin and who made you experience a shivering sensation of fear that would spread over all of your exposed areas.

San was undoubtedly that person. Despite the potential for his eyes to linger on your skin, his presence was desired. Exquisite wounds, reminiscent of blossoms from damaged tissue, were created by his razor-sharp canines.

Death and sex were not enough for San; he had a craving for disorder and hot sensations.

He always wanted more, whether it was blood or pleasure. He never felt satisfied.

His sole desire was Rose—just her alone.

“Do you smell that Sangie scent?” San inhaled deeply again that intoxicating divine scent, resisting the urge to savor her flavor like a dog, choking and whimpering. “Mmmm, I want her so badly. I want her whole, every fucking cell of her body. She's driving me crazy.”

Sarang emitted a scent that was distinctly sharp and overpowering in its fragrance. Reminiscent of aged wine, it was infused with the bitterness of dark chocolate, the piquancy of red pepper, and the sweetness of roses. It tastes like sin and blessing at the same time. Like a slight saltiness akin to the tears she had shed, he longed to lick them off her rounded, flushed cheeks. The fruity sweetness of illicit fruit. The taste of his own blood. The metal and thick aroma of their sexual encounter. Thick as semen and honey.

San wants to have her. Wants her to love him. He desires his love to be reciprocated as fervently and passionately as he does.

His only wish is her love.

Although it is not enough for him to possess her love, he wants her to have an intense and almost sadistic affection for him—one that goes beyond what seems possible. He yearns for her to destroy him. Because he's confident in Sarang's ability to do so. He needs more. More than she could offer him, more than she could ever agree to. He is but a slave, created to worship her.

San's aim is to belong to her; he would go to any extent, even to the point of destroying the entire world, if that is what it takes to achieve that. The value of her love is immeasurable, and his objective is absolute.   She is the center of his life and the very essence of his being.   She is the haunting presence in his dreams, a seductive force that both seduces and tortures. The midnight idol of his desire, the serpent that dwells around his heart, tempts him to sin.

San craves her love so much, and that need is so painful, so all-consuming, and so twisted. If need be, he would kill her with his own hands, just to be sure that no one else would ever have her.

Sharing her with his brothers was like hellfire burning him from the inside out, but it was a paltry sacrifice he could make in exchange for her love.

This time, he won't let her go. This time, not even death would dare separate them. Saran will be his. She will be theirs. In life. In death. Forever and ever.

Soon.

It will happen so soon. San can't wait for the day when his Goddess is beneath him, in the cage of his body, sprawled on the black velvet of his bed. With his fangs deep into her sweet flesh, and she will screaming his name in a haze of ecstatic pleasure.

He would make her see stars. San will take her all the way to the doors of Heaven.

“San,” “San,” “San,” “San” over and over, until her voice completely collapses to a painful wheeze, until he absorbs every tiny sound she makes, every moan, every breath, every barely perceptible note, until all she will remember is his name.

Until Sarang whispers right into his lips, “I am yours.”

Soon.

In the meantime, San can patiently wait. He will wait as he always has, obediently and without complaint. He will be such a good boy. San will wait obediently, as he has done for centuries and centuries before. Until the time is right to pursue his desires, he will take all that he has dreamt of, and God will save the souls of those who get in his way.

Right now, he thinks he could die here — in her bed, surrounded by the lingering warmth of her body and her maddening scent. He would like nothing more than to show her all his passion and devotion and all the love he could give her.

He dreams of running his lips over her skin and tasting her until his whole face is wet and glistening with her juices. He will fuck her into oblivion until night turns to day and then drown her in tenderness, worshiping her caress-weary body as an obedient slave should.

Sometimes, he thinks it's not normal—the feelings he has for her. Such love simply cannot exist. How can someone love someone so much? Is it normal to hate the very existence of nature and the heavenly bodies for being able to see her beauty, which should belong to him alone?

However, these were only momentary musings until he regained his composure, dispelling any doubts. How could he even question his love? It felt so perfect and effortless, like breathing. How could such thoughts even enter his mind?

Her love was a life worth living.

It was destined since the dawn of time, when spirits roamed the earth, the sun was young, and the old gods had not yet vanished. She belonged to them, and they belonged to her. They sensed her first breath on their lips. He felt. 

Their love bloomed again—a blood rose.

Soon…

These fantasies drove him mad; every cell ignited with the desire to possess, awakening his animal predatory nature. The ugly nature of his genuinely depraved being.

He pictured Sarang biting into his neck and taking possession of him. She aimed at him as if he were nothing more than a thing, a toy for her amusement.

“Say my name, Sarang. Express your fondness for me and acknowledge that I am your only one. I want you to own me and claim me as yours. Say my name until it burns your lips. Again and again. Drink my blood, bite me to death; I'm nothing more than your slave, just a pathetic means of pleasure. Hit me. Hurt me, I beg you. I need it so badly. Please, my love, I am begging you to love me. Love… Love me so much until it kills me. That is what I wish for.”

His hips moved smoothly, grinding his arousal against the rumpled bedclothes. San moaned, breathlessly gasping as he found the perfect angle to satisfy his intense desire for release. He needs to cum; he couldn't leave here without cumming. He buried his face in the pillow, panting and whimpering like a wild animal possessed. His primal instincts demanded he leave his mark on her, to possess her and fuck her into oblivion until her belly bloated from the amount of cum pouring into her and her head felt light and empty.

His claws lengthened, digging into the mattress, leaving sickening jagged stripes as his hips moved uncontrollably, continuing to rub his throbbing wet cock against the silken folds of the crumpled sheets.

The sounds he made were almost heavenly.

Soft, extended moans that turned into pitiful sobs. He sounded like an angel in the throes of passion.

In his fantasies, San imagined drinking from her as long scarlet streams of her sweet blood ran down their naked bodies, staining everything red. How deeply he entered her body, seeing the imprint of his cock on her flat stomach as her neat, pointed nails plowed into his back into gaping lacerations.

His teeth clenched as he let out a hoarse moan, the sound vibrating deep in his throat. San needed to cum; he was on the verge of madness. The need for pleasure was more obvious than anything around him at the moment. The transparent essence of his arousal dripped down onto the sheets, sticking to his golden, wet skin with every movement of his muscled thighs.

His thoughts returned to the dark, vicious images of hot animal sex. A fine shiver ran down his entire body.

He will run his tongue along every contour of the intricate bloody lines, licking up every last drop. First, the longest neck-open and vulnerable to his insatiable mouth, then lower down the hollow between the heavy breasts, rising in time with her labored breathing. His lips would close around the hard pink nipples, scraping them with his teeth, making her squeal and gasp. Lower down her flat belly, where the flowers of his hungry kisses and hard touches bloomed. Until his tongue is between the moist puffy folds of her pussy, he runs the pointed tip along the soft silken flesh, plunging deeper into the tight hole where blood mingles with her natural sweetness. He wants to feel the velvety, wet walls of her vagina clench and quiver around his tongue.

“Sarang!” His voice was hoarse, and his hands gripped the sheets beneath him with such force that his knuckles turned white, almost tearing the skin.

He looked pornographic.

San was so lost in his fantasies that he had completely forgotten about Yeosang, who was still in this room, until he was reminded of it with a sharp, painful tug of his hair. Long, thin fingers gripped the dark, damp strands with force and tilted his head back rigidly, revealing a view of a strong neck with veins swollen from exertion and beads of sweat running down her

“Here we go, such a pathetic, stupid bitch.” Yeosang said it with mockery in his voice. His lips curled into a wicked smirk, and San could feel it on his skin as the brunet whispered in his ear. “Look at you, you're nothing more than a slut; where's your pride, San, eh? The great general of the dark army, the heartless ice prince, the ruthless Ripper, is nothing more than a drooling whore shamefully rubbing his cock against the sheets.” Yeosang's fingernails dug painfully into his scalp, tugging harder on the long silk strands the color of night.

“Yes, yes, keep calling me that.” His request sounded like a plea. All Yeosang's words made him move faster, almost in desperation.

The rhythm of his hips became erratic and uncontrollable. He was close. His teeth clenched as he let out a hoarse moan, the sound vibrating deep in his throat.

“Are you imagine fucking her, Sannie, hmm? Or what would it taste like? I bet the taste will be heavenly; she's sweeter than ever in this life. Oh no, I know exactly what you're thinking.” A mocking chuckle escaped his ruby-red lips. “You want her to bite you.” Those wicked lips pressed against the frantically beating pulse point. “Right here.” Yeosang's teeth sank with force into the flushed skin of San's neck—that particular sensitive spot on his neck beneath a scattering of pale freckles.

San's eyes rolled back in pleasure, his mouth opened in a silent moan, and his hips shook with the intensity of his orgasm. Thick, hot cum splattered onto the sheets, staining them with the pale, milky liquid.

The brunet unclenched his teeth, releasing the tender skin. The bite mark was wine-red, with swollen incisor impressions and drops of black blood in the hollows. A poisonous flower, tempting to know sin.

“Sannie, look at the mess you'd made. Truly a royal fuck. I always thought it was more Mingi's style.” Finally, thin but surprisingly strong fingers let go of the silken strands, allowing San to rest his face tiredly against the pillow. His whole body relaxes after the overwhelming orgasm. The entire pillow is soaked with drool and sweat, and semen cools beneath his stomach, sticking uncomfortably to his skin.

He opens one eye and looks up at the vampire leaning over him with a lecherous smile.

“Would you like to join me, my beautiful brother? We still have a few hours before she gets home.” The brunet rolls onto his back to make room for Yeosang in the bed. His fingers run along the sculpted curves of his abs, scooping up the viscous, pearly liquid and sliding it into his mouth. “Mmm…” A long tongue swirled around his fingers, licking up every drop with lazy, slow pleasure.

“You're disgusting, San.” Yeosang puckered his lips in disgust, looking around at the brunette sprawled on the bed. He turned sharply on his heels and strode away from the room;  to he pick up Yoru on his way, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, in his arms. “Get up; we have to go. Hongjoon is calling us.”

“You're not leaving the cat?”

The brunette turned around over his shoulder, meeting his gaze with San's silver eyes.

“June misses his darling; for our little girl, it's time to come home.”

San propped himself up on his elbows, looking at the departing Yeosang. His lips stretched in a satisfied smile full of devilish anticipation.

The time had finally come.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

1st POV

"Feed me to the wolves, let them take my flesh."

“Well, I'm glad to finally meet you in a more relaxed setting, Miss Ahn. Please take a seat.” With an elegant gesture, the man motioned me to a deep leather chair in front of his desk. On the glass tabletop was a silver plaque engraved with the name “Mr. Lee Taeho”.

“Miss An” - how sad and tragic that sounds. I never wanted to try out this role. I didn't like being addressed like that, because it was always Mina, and before her, it was my grandmother, and probably my mother was addressed like that when she was alive.

But here I am, the new Miss Ahn, and unlike my predecessors, I have not sought to carry the weight of this unbearable crown. I don't need the congratulatory ribbons and the wet glitter sequins smeared across my face.

Although there was nothing in the address itself that I could call unpleasant, the tone with which it was always delivered foreshadowed the inevitable tragic ending of its own and tasted of earth and chrysanthemums.

You're bound to end up as one of them; it's not all by chance, Sarang.   Don't kid yourself.

I saw the future as a series of predetermined events, especially after Mina's death. She had the arrogance to dispose of my life as she saw fit, putting chains of obligations and secrets around my neck. I buried her in the ground, and my days became nothing more than a list of dull plans, paltry hopes, and bitter regrets, as murky as the water in the city canals through which a coffin floats. Still, I couldn't help but wonder who would be the next Miss An when I died, or would I be the one to hold that title forever?

There are never any former queens. There are only dead ones.

I could feel the blood flowing faster through my veins.

For a few moments, there was silence around us, thick and enveloping like fog. If I'd felt any hint of confidence as I walked through the tall glass doors of Silver & Black LTD, now, alone with this man, I was floundering in my social insecurity like a butterfly caught in a spider's web. I resisted the urge to squirm under the gaze of his night-dark eyes. Beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

Lee Taeho wasn't just one of Silver & Black's most successful lawyers; he was also a devilishly handsome man.

He was built like a god. Broad shoulders, narrow hips, and a tight-fitting white shirt that accentuated his muscular biceps, bulging pecs, and flat stomach. The image of strength and power was completed by the perfectly tailored, tight-fitting trousers. The rolled-up sleeves revealed several tattoos on his wiry forearms—something in Latin that I couldn't make out.

His face was also striking, with angular, pointed features that would have looked strange and out of place on anyone else, but the luscious, perfectly sculpted lips made them something unimaginable and outrageously beautiful.

I felt uncomfortable under the weight of his scrutinizing gaze. He was looking at me like I was something special, but not in a sexual or romantic way; rather, it was the look of an explorer who had found an unexpected treasure in a pile of rubbish.

“I honestly didn't expect you to have any free time in the next few months, so thank you for seeing me at such short notice.”

To be honest, I knew absolutely nothing about Silver & Black until Soomin told me about them on the way here. Soo turned out to be absolutely right when she told me about them. This place was the epitome of the arrogant domination of money and power—cold, glassy, and sterile, like a morgue where the remains of all “happy stories” are taken.

I could never belong to such a place, but I could easily imagine Mina here, with her developing blood curls and the unemotional grandeur of royalty. People like my sister were part of that 'proper' society so suited to closed Sunday clubs and icy glass offices. Like all of her kind, Mina was a great predator, used to labeling people and giving them her own names and definitions. She knew exactly how to make those around her feel uncomfortable with just one look.

Some people have everything, others nothing. It's as cruel and true as the inequality of love.

I still didn't understand how Mina had so much money to afford the services of this company, but judging by how polite and “sweetly” the receptionist greeted me at the entrance, she was very much appreciated here.

Blood of my blood.

“You have nothing to thank me for, Saran.” He said that, and I looked back at him in surprise. It wasn't so much the fact that he allowed himself a familiarity that surprised me, but the way he said my name—as if it had always belonged to his lips. It was as if he'd said it over and over again until the intonation was perfect.

My heart beats fast in my chest, but I couldn't tell if it was fear or something else entirely.

“We will always make time for you. If you'll allow me to be frank, I've left a few free hours each day, just in case you decide to call me. Honestly, I expected it to take a little less time on your part, but who am I to judge you, Sarang?”

“But why?” I tried to gather information and put it together in a way that wasn't absurd. I didn't want to assume anything.

“Why? Do I have to explain? Maybe I just wanted to see you; you're a beautiful girl, and I'm a great admirer of the beautiful. He smiled, seemingly satisfied with the embarrassment that must have been written on my face. I could feel the heat spilling over my cheeks, turning them a painfully inflamed shade of red.

I had never been a girl with a 'cute' blush. I was more like a girl burned by the gold of the sun, pressing her cheek directly against the boiling, bubbling surface of the sun.

Taeho lightly drummed his perfectly filed nails on the glass tabletop, completely ignoring my obvious embarrassment at the situation, and continued:

“But let's say that this is due to the fact that your dear sister was a valued client of ours, whom everyone here at Silver & Black LTD sincerely appreciated. Miss Ahn was our special customer. All the staff will agree with me; your sister is impossible not to love.”

“A special client?” I interjected. Somehow, that didn't surprise me at all. Of course, it was only natural that Mina was always at the center of the universe. People followed the sound of her voice like rats behind the magical melody of the flute.

“Are you surprised, Sarang? Your sister has helped our firm in many ways, bringing us new clients and introducing us to the 'right' people, making our firm one of the best in Korea. She's contributed a lot to the development of Silver & Black. There was a strange note in his voice, as if between the cracks there was something terrible—a terrible secret that could change my whole life.

For some reason, I don't feel comfortable at all right now.

“I'm pleased… hmm, or rather, I'm pleased to know that my sister has done so much for you. Lately, she and I haven't really been close, and we've barely chatted. So I didn't know where she went or what kind of people she hung out with.” My words come out a little sour, and I press my lips together.

The lovely Mina, as always, is proving to be the best. I wonder if the day will come when she damn pedestal will be nothing but a pile of ruins at my feet. I thought all this time you'd been pining for roses, but instead you've been doing the right thing. What else don't I know about you, Ahn Min?

What don't I want to know about you?

''Yes, yes, she helped us a lot. Now let's get on with signing the documents, do you mind? I don't want to keep you any longer than necessary.” His words were very dry, businesslike, and in no way in keeping with the previous flirtation. Something flashed in his eyes—concern, doubt, maybe even fear—there was a tense tremor in his hands, and his whole aura changed, as if something huge and evil had turned its attention to him.

“Sure, let's get started.”

The entire process took no more than 30 minutes. I signed document after document, with occasional detached comments from Mr. Lee, which were completely at odds with his previous behavior. There was nothing special about the documents, except for one thing: Rose Hill. As best, I could make out from the extensive stack of papers, it was a small house in the style of Victorian England. It was in the ownership of a gated cottage community, the grounds of which were owned by a private company. It was all too complex and confusing to realize the meaning in the space of 30 minutes. I'll deal with it later, most likely in the company of Soomin and a couple of bottles of wine.

“Can I sell the house I inherited, Rose Hill?” I asked without lifting my head from the papers; a few more strokes and I could be out of here. The atmosphere in the office was terribly tense; my skin itched unpleasantly and tingled in places as if it no longer belonged to me.

“To my regret, I cannot help you in this matter. In all matters concerning Rose Hill, you must deal directly with the owners of the land; I will email you their contacts.” The smile he gave me was forced, and I couldn't help but wonder what had made such a difference in his change of mood.

“Okay, thank you.” I signed the last form and handed the pile of paperwork to Mr. Lee. “I'm done; hopefully everything is settled now. Can I get a copy of the documents, preferably today?”

Taeho cursorily flicked through the pages to make sure each one was signed.

 “Our administrator, Sunwoo, will give you all the documents. There is one more thing you need to get before you leave. When you leave here, go further down the corridor to the vault, and Bora will show you a locker in the storage room that belongs to your sister. Now, if you'll excuse me, my next customer is waiting, and I don't want to keep him waiting.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Lee.” I clumsily rose from my chair, trying to get out of this stuffy room as quickly as possible. The air felt pressurized, and I felt like I was going to start suffocating a little more. I needed to get out of here right now.

“It was nice to meet you, too, Miss Ahn. Please take care of yourself.” The look he gave me was sad—so unusually sad, like the look of a man living his last day on earth. It was as if the end had come for him before he could realize it.

His words, on the contrary, were a warning. “Take care of yourself.” What kind of lawyer wishes that to a client as a farewell? Was I in danger? Perhaps you were. Although that's true, it's worth crossing out the word “perhaps”, yes, I was in danger. Could he have known about it? Did Taeho know about the roses or the people who sent those awful flowers? Was there something he hadn't told me? A thousand questions were in my head as I walked out of his office.

Mechanically, I reach for the strands of pearls at my neck and twist them around my fingers, nervousness bubbling in my stomach. This isn't some worldwide conspiracy, Sarang. Wake up.

I think I'm becoming paranoid.

The door closes softly behind me. I'm alone in a sterile, shiny corridor.

In the distance, I hear a cheerful laugh—Soomin. She was definitely laughing. Soo is having a great time waiting for me to wrap things up. Even though she was denied my escort to Mr. Lee's office, she wasn't upset at all because the nice receptionist, Sunwoo, I think his name was, was determined not to let her get bored alone.

I could have fallen in love with him. He was charming and cute, with a sweet, heart-shaped smile that would make your teeth rot. He was wearing a perfectly tailored suit, Armani Prive, in a thinly stitched pinstripe. I'd say he looked like a puppy. With those big, wet, shiny eyes and the way he struck the right pose when you told him to.

Yes, that was the kind of guy I fell in love with—the kind with a good reputation and a well-paid job—the kind who makes love, not fucks. They're the ones who make sure he looks you in the eye and whispers to you about how good you're feeling when he's caressing your body.

Good boys. Obedient boys. Sugar-coated like candy.

If I fell in love with a guy like that, Soomin would break him up like a Christmas candy bar and take a bite right down the middle of him. She liked that type—kind, gentle, and submissive. There had never been a lack of male attention in her life, but for some reason, Soo had always surrounded herself with this type of boy, like colorful toys. She wasn't afraid to break them because she could always move on to the next one. They never crossed her, nodding in obedience and jumping as high as she asked. Men were no more precious to Soo than broken crystal balls, shimmering but useless.

The corridor in front of me was long and empty, with a single door at the end. The sound of heels hitting marble tiles echoed in my head, and the checkerboard pattern on the marble was jarring. For a moment, I thought the corridor was narrowing like a rabbit hole, endless and dark. I was short of air, unable to breathe, and the oxygen in my lungs was as thick and viscous as swamp sludge. I clawed at my neck with my fingernails, trying to pull off the pearl collar, but I felt myself tightening it stronger. My eyes stung from tears and mascara, and ink streaks ran down my cheeks, and somehow they felt colder than they should have.

My fingernails dug into the skin on my collarbones, scratching at it with cruelty and anger.

I needed to get away from myself. To be separate from my body and the way I felt. The nightmare awakened inside me, licking my veins, working its way inside, and gnawing into my soul. My consciousness was beyond my mind.

I hear the sound of tearing threads and thousands of pearls falling at my feet, and I fall with them. I want to go back to before it all began. Before the pain, Before the roses.

Fluorescent lights flash like the tails of nameless comets on the pearly roundness of the beads. I see stars exploding behind my eyes, painting the underside of my eyelids with intricate strokes—the constellation Gemini. Nergal. I want to remember the days when roses were just roses, not home to the ghosts of my soul.

I hear a sound—it's pearls crunching under sharp heels. Under steel heels, like the teeth of the Witch Queen. 

“Oh my God, Saran!” Someone shouts. Soomin isn't laughing anymore.

Her hands are so cold against my clammy skin. She presses my face against her chest, and the feverish beating of her heart brings me back to reality. She is my white rabbit.

Voices, voices—there are so many of them. It's a cacophony of sounds and unpleasant cracking noises. The pearls keep breaking, and I keep crying.

Someone brings me a glass of unpleasantly cold water; it runs down my throat like a liquid flame.

I finally took a breath.

“Take me home.” That's all I can say right now. I want to go home, away from the world, away from the sun, and away from the memories.

“She's having a panic attack; she needs air.”

“No! I need to go home.”

“It's OK, sweetheart. I've got you,” Soo purrs, kissing the top of my head like a little baby. She pulls me off the floor with effort, lifting me to my feet.

I look down at the checkered pattern of the marble slabs and at the scattered pearls. In some places, the white slabs are smeared with red, like lipstick smeared by a kiss. This is blood. My blood.

My legs shake like a newborn fawn as Soomin leads me away from this place. Every step was painful, almost more painful than Soo's tight grip on my forearm.   “It's okay, Sarang, we're going home.”

It's okay, Sarang.

It's okay.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

“Are you sure you're feeling better?”

“Yeah, I'm fine now.” I squeezed out the shadow of a smile. Apparently it was useless; the look in her eyes remained the same: worried, with fear lurking around the edges. Fear for me.

“How long have you been having these attacks?”

“This is the first time. I guess… I don't know. Let's just say it's a consequence of trauma. I don't want to talk about it.”

“I'm so sorry.” Soo crouched on the edge of the bed, taking my hand gently. I was made of glass; she didn't want to break me or do the opposite by hurting herself on me. “It's so horrible that you have to go through all this, baby.”

“Yes, it is.” What else could I say? I could not have said a word, and everything would have been understood. The wounds under the bandage itched terribly. Long red marks stretched along my collarbones and neck. Mascara was still smeared across my face, as was the soft pink lip gloss. I looked like a mess. I was a mess.

My throat was all dry and thirsty, and my eyes were so swollen I couldn't even open them fully.

“Do you want me to stay with you tonight, love? We can watch a film or something; maybe one of those stupid comedy shows Mina hated. I'll make dinner and open the wine.”

“No need; I'll be fine. Soomin, go home; you should be resting too, not babysitting me. I'm fine, really. I'm feeling better, and I'll definitely get through the night. I'll probably go straight to sleep as soon as you leave.” Much as I loved Soo, I didn't feel like seeing anyone right now.

“If you say so, Please call me in the morning as soon as you wake up, okay?”

“Of course. Be safe, Soo. Love you.” I thought I covered my eyes for only a second before I heard the click of the front door. The mark of her kiss burned on my cheek.

I don't know how many hours I sat like that—completely still, not taking my eyes off the dark landscape outside the window, which was getting brighter now that a little moonlight was seeping through the thick clouds.

I didn't want to get out of bed, drowning in pillows and blankets like a pipe dream. I felt good in my bed. I couldn't understand what exactly had changed, but I could feel the change. Even in the morning, the bed had been cold and lonely, but now the silk under my fingers was warmer and softer to the touch. Even the smell of the blankets seemed to be different, like purple lilies and musk, a scent that remotely reminded me of something very familiar but long forgotten. Could it have been Soo's perfume? No, more like the scent that Yoru always brought with her.

By the way, where did she go? She was here when I left this morning, but knowing her talent for disappearing and reappearing at will, I didn't hold out much hope of seeing her today. It would be nice to have her around now, though.

I rolled onto my side, resting my cheek against the pillow. I didn't want to sleep, but I didn't want to get out of bed either. My gaze settled on the small box that lay on the chair across from the bed. A casket from a storage locker.

After my panic attack, Soomin took it away, since I was apparently incapable of doing so. Next to it was a neat stack of papers with black paint poisonously embedded in them, listing all the possessions I now owned, including Rose Hill, but the most valuable and important thing was kept in this little silver coffin.

The metal walls of the casket shimmered like liquid silver when moonlight hit them. I was mesmerized by this otherworldly glow. Number 0711 - Miss Ahn Mina. Sometimes a lifetime can be folded like origami and placed on a velvet cushion like a collector's item.

I struggled with myself for a few more minutes before I threw back the blankets and got out of bed. My curiosity outweighed my fear. At that moment, I had to remind myself that “curiosity killed the cat,” and if I had been any smarter, I would have thrown the box to hell and never thought of it again.

The box opened silently, and I felt a chill, as if someone had dipped my heart in ice water. There weren't many things in the box—something old, something new, and something blue—all like a wedding tradition. It wasn't like Mina. She had always despised the idea of marriage; the very thought of anyone daring to claim her freedom made her sick.

It wasn't for her, and it wasn't for me.

Weddings are gorgeous, creamy bouquets of fragrant flowers that breathe in the dawn. At the end of a long journey down a narrow church aisle, a handsome prince awaits with the promise of eternal love. As if. Girls, guard your hearts, for they will eat them for breakfast. Piece by piece, like a birthday cake, until there's nothing left to keep you alive.

Then there'll be another, just as naive. And then another, and so on, endlessly. That's all love is. A streak of devil's rubies and eaten hearts.

There was no heart and no love in that box. Just one little piece of paper with torn edges and a handful of precious trinkets. Just one small puzzle piece that had fallen out of a huge and complex picture. I could recognize Mina's handwriting from a million others, but the words written on that little piece of paper were not hers. In each letter lurked something that had never belonged to Mina; her hand had scrawled those lines, but her lips had never uttered those words.

“My only love. My divine Rose, when I leave this world, I will leave you everything you could ever want. When you read this, I will be gone. Everything has been arranged; everything is ready for you. The whole world will belong to you, my love. I took care of it. On the back of this page, I have left the number of my good friend. Please give him a call; he will help you with all the things you need. He'll be waiting for you. He is the only one you can trust, Sarang. Your beloved Mina P.S. Don't forget, love is eternal.”

I flipped the sheet to the other side. The handwriting was the same but so different; the letters were sharp and crumpled, as if they were written in a hurry.

Hongjoong. I had heard that name before. I knew the taste of it on my tongue.

My fingers hurriedly dialed the number; I didn't look at the time, and, to be honest, I didn't care. I wanted to make sure that he was real and that this wasn't another one of her crazy fantasies that would lead me down a blind alley. I needed to know that Hongjoong wasn't fiction but blood and flesh, intermittent breathing, and an unevenly beating pulse.

At the other end of the phone, the long beeps were interrupted, there was a static pause for a second, and then I heard the sleepy and so welcome sound:

“Hello.”

[tartsinarat]

Pip: “…I know you will never think so, but I have always hoped that in another life, you had ran away with me that night.”

Hunter: “…”

Pip: “We could have actually been finally free from this gilded birdcage.”

So I’ve never actually posted anything deeper into how Hunter and Pip think about each other/ their dynamic other than silly sibling dynamic but it’s actually a lot more interesting than that.

Pip and Hunter actually have a complicated relationship that somewhat is like funhouse mirror on what Philip and Caleb may have been like as they both flip flop between the two roles but ironically Hunter predominantly takes Philip’s role while Pip takes Caleb’s. Which uh caused a lot of disagreements.

In the au canon, they see themselves as actually being siblings rather than cousins because the fake story that Belos made is a lot different from the og canon of the show.

So rather than being Belos’s nephews like how Hunter is in the show, instead they are his actual children that he had with a human when he supposedly visited the human realm. This is what Hunter believes is the reason why he has no magic but pointed ears and why Pip thinks he has magic but round ears.

The story that Belos created in order to explain why their mum mysteriously missing is that a group of wild witches killed her and the rest of their family. It’s also the fake explanation for how both Pip and Belos got cursed.

This also adds credence to why Belos hates wild witches to the public and why the day of unity is so important because they’ve all been told it’s going to properly unite the human realm and the demon realm.

I also find it much more interesting that instead of Hunter just knowing that his “family” died in a mysterious way like in the show canon that instead Belos actually created an extremely detailed false family history so those two wouldn’t go snooping around searching for any missing details

it makes it even more fucked up when these two later learn that everything was a lie because to further solidify the illusion Belos even implanted false memories so uh these definitely two struggle with the consequences of figuring that out.

But yeah properly onto Pip and Hunter, both of them were basically inseparable as little kids but ended up drifting apart because Hunter had started working as the Golden guard and Pip was too young to help out (and also Belos didn’t want to have to go through the long and tedious process of cloning himself again) so Pip was often left behind bored and alone.

This boredom has consequences because when exploring the castle Pip found out about something he really shouldn’t have…He inadvertently ended meeting the collector who was also really bored and wanted to play with someone who’s not old and boring like Belos. Uh safe to say Pip straight up almost died when Belos walked in on him and the collector chatting about titans.

Hunter also ended up eventually getting involved to try and protect Pip but ended up getting that wound across his cheek. They obviously both survived but they were both punished by not being allowed to use healing magic on their wounds and to be locked in their rooms for the foreseeable future.

Pip sneaks out and attempts to convince Hunter to escape the castle and run away because it’s not the first time they’ve been almost killed for a mistake but Hunter believes that they had both deserved it for disobeying authority and refuses to come with Pip.

Pip just ends up escaping by sneaking on to an airship but almost gets caught by Belos but just escapes in the nick of time with just a scratch across his thigh. Luckily the airship was being piloted Lilith who had no idea that there was a stowaway onboard as she was too busy planing on how to finally convince Eda to join the emperor’s coven.

Oh yeah Eda straight up slams the door in Lilith’s face and tells Hooty to eat any intruders, Pip sneaks out of the airship as it’s about to leave and while trying to get a grasp of his surroundings, Hooty sees him and its on sight. Eda saves him and ends up with a new roommate along side King and Hooty and patches him up because she felt bad for the little guy.

I’ll talk about Hunter and Pip’s familial relationship in the modern times in another post as this one got really long TwT

But yeah that’s the origin to this post of small Pip and why him and Hunter have bad blood until they met again like 7 years later.

[leafs-lover]

Too Far Gone - Part Fifty Six

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut - fingering, cum play, dirty talk, maybe a slight voyeurism kink, interrupted sex, inadvertent orgasm deprivation, light degradation? I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,000

Auston didn’t know when they went to bed. The curtains had been left open and the faint glow from the moon was filtering in, but he had to make good on that promise from the roof. And even then, he wasn’t done because they were both drenched in sweat, and there is something about warm beads of water cascading over his girlfriend’s chest that always ended with Auston on his knees.

Sure, it could be considered reckless to stay up that late given they have a three-year-old who has been known to barge in before the sun broke the horizon looking for breakfast. But what was Auston supposed to do, not celebrate the fact Tia finally admitted she loved him? They had talked about getting a puppy, having more kids, getting married, they planned their future, but hearing those words roll off her tongue cemented to him that it was real. As if those four years were nothing more than a long and hazy nightmare he finally awoke from.

When Auston did wake up around 9:20, he planned on quietly crawling out of bed, finding Taylour (he knew one of his friends was keeping him entertained for the time being) and wrangling his help to make her breakfast in bed. A simple gesture, one he had been deprived of for so long. It was his plan, and it was a great plan, then he saw the faint marks on her shoulders, the marks he left, and everything changed. All reason was long gone, and his primal instinct took over. If he could keep her there all day, he would.

“Aus.”

Her nails scratch along his broad shoulder and her body arches into him. Even though she is pulsing with oversensitivity, she doesn’t know if she’s had enough, if she ever will have enough.

“Babe –“ She gasps, sharply.

“What?” He grins, moustache tickling her ear.

“We gotta to get up.” He can tell she wants there to be weight behind the words, but her body is saying something completely different. “So much to do…”

“How am I supposed to get anything done when you’re naked in our bed?” Auston murmurs thickly against her jaw.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

The sheets are a mess. Pillows are on the floor. The stench of sex is heavy in the room.

“So...” His hands roam all over her body. He cups her breast, which somehow overflows in his big hands. “What’s on your list this morning?”

“Yoga.”

“Pretty sure we already did that.” Satisfaction curls on his lips.

“I want to finish up something I’ve been working on…” She trails off for a moment as he licks up her neck, tongue following the bite marks left the night before. “Have to check in with Becks…” Auston grins, the heat flaring behind her cheeks says that won’t happen anytime soon.

“What about fucking your boyfriend?” Auston’s fingers carve into the swollen flesh of her ass.

“I believe I did that already.” He moves his fingers around to her pussy lips and the inside of her thighs, and they are wet, absolutely drenched in their hot sticky mess. “That’s why we’re still in bed.”

“You should put it back on the list, maybe twice.” Auston’s mouth slowly begins to work its way down, first to her collarbone, then her breasts. As his warm tongue swirls around her sensitive nipple, her slick grazes over his member and a deep guttural groan erupts.

“Is that so?” She breathes out a laugh while tugging harshly on his curls.

“Yeah.” Two fingers once again find their way inside. Her body arks toward him and within a few seconds they begin to move. The disgusting slurp of her cunt fills the room as he thrusts them faster and faster. Her walls greedily grasp and hug his digits, never wanting to let him go. Her elbows give out and her body collapses into the bed, quickly and desperately clawing at the sheets.

Auston smirks and applies more pressure. His left hand grabs at her knee and tosses it over his shoulder, earning him a shriek from the deepest part of her diaphragm. Auston fucks his fingers back inside. Every stroke is precise, his knuckles crooked at the knuckle to create the perfect angle. “Can’t decide if I want to eat the cum out of you before I fill you back up.” Auston licks his bottom lip, his fingers massaging her g-spot. “Or if I should bury myself inside and make ya overflow…what do you think?”

“Fuck me.” Tia whispers to herself.

Auston chuckles, a little breathless. “I’m going to.” He circles his thumb around her clit, fingers rhythmically seeking her high. “You taste so good, can only dream of what we taste like together.”

Tia whimpers at the emptiness as Auston pulls his fingers out. He brings them up to her mouth, and without instruction Tia drops her jaw and wraps her lips around them. They both moan as she swirls her tongue around his digits, working to clean the mess. Quickly, he snaps his wrist and runs the saliva and cum coated fingers along her jaw. With a cocky brow raise, he shoves his tongue into her mouth.

“Better than I imagined.”

His hand moves to her hair, and she bites at her lower lip. He knows she washed her hair yesterday. He also knows she will scold him for this later. He just doesn’t care. He moves the head of his shaft down through her folds, allowing it to rest at the opening for just a second, then he buries himself deep inside her warmth.

He messily kisses her once again, taking the time to embrace the wetness that oozes out around his cock. He pulls his hips back, and right before he is about to drive back inside, her hands are on his shoulder trying to push him away.

“Stop.” Her eyes snap open, wide with fear. His brows contort with confusion, then he hears it. Little feet pattering down the hall, his playful giggle getting louder and louder with every step. They both knew they were pushing their luck going for round two, but like a moth to a flame, Auston couldn’t pull himself away.

“Taylour, come on bud, let’s go.” Fred’s voice calls, louder than normal trying to warn those on the other side.

The doorknob begins to jiggle. Tia’s breathing becomes frantic . The slow creak gets louder and louder, and Taylour’s voice enters the room. “I want to show them my trick.”

The more the door opens the more Tia’s face whitens. Auston scrambles off her and scours the floor for a shirt, pants, some piece of clothing to toss on before Taylour barrels in. But everything is everywhere, all he can find is the sheet which he tosses toward Tia.

“Mommy and Daddy are sleeping.” Fred tells him, pulling the door shut. “Why don’t we practice more, and you can show them when they wake up?”

“Because practice makes perfect,” Taylour agrees with a nod.

“Right.” Fred nods down the hall. “Let’s go.”

Auston waits a few seconds until Taylour’s feet are down the hall, then calls out, “Thanks Fred.”

“Yup,” Fred hollers through the door.

**

“I’m not sure about this.” Tia runs her finger along the strap, then smooths over her stomach.

Once they heard the footsteps fade down the hall and the stair boards creak, Auston and Tia were out of bed. Tia ran a comb through her hair while glaring at Auston for the ends that had fused together, then swiftly threw it up on the top of her head. Auston grabbed a bathing suit –because every day ends with them in the pool – and one of his t-shirts. The two of them went downstairs and Tia started making them smoothies, and Auston set out to get the avocado ready for their breakfast. After inhaling their food, Auston was outside, showing off his backflips – always a favourite with Taylour - and Tia was upstairs in her sewing room.

Once the workspace was mostly complete, she finished the couple orders that were outstanding, then set out designing a few new pieces to expand her line. She sketched out seven new pieces, three of them made it through the 3D rendering, then she began the process of cutting fabric, pinning it together and trying to bring her visions to life. One was easy, only needed a few minor tweaks but was now ready to go to the testing phase. The other two she has been stuck on. Nothing seemed to work, and Tia was about ready to scrap them both and start over, but before that she decided to reach out to the one person that might be able to help.

Celeste presses her glasses back up her nose and shuffles in her seat, as if trying to get a better view from Toronto.

“Yeah…” She hims through the speaker. “I see what you were talking about…I think the point near your underarm needs to go up a bit.” Tia turns toward the camera and lifts her arm, then points to the area she assumes Celeste is talking about. “Yeah,” she confirms. “It’s a little…” her face crinkles as she thinks over the next word.

“Aggressive?”

Celeste feigns a laugh. “That may not be the word I’d use…but yes.”

“The prototype looked so good.” Tia sighs. She thought the dress was going to be the easiest to bring to life. But when she tried the top on it sat low, dangerously low, to a point if Tia moved too much everything spilled out. Despite Auston’s objections, she added fabric to the bodice to bring the neckline up, only it came up too much. Next, she cut a bit out but then she didn’t like the neckline, it was too squared off and simple, so she tried to curve it but overcompensated as indents are being left in her skin.

“That’s why we test them out. I can’t tell you how many pieces I thought were good until I tried them on.” Celeste tries to reassure her with a faint laugh, but this part never gets easy. “It’s not that far off, dear.”

“Yeah.” Tia’s nose crinkles again, almost at her wits end with this one.

“What about the top you were working on.” Celeste steers the conversation away, hoping it has better results. “You decide on a sleeve?”

A few days ago, Tia sent Celeste a picture of a satin top with a simple square neck and subtle pleats in the bodice. The hem was unfinished and there were many pins, but what caught her attention was the two distinctly different sleeves styles. One was short and puffy, and the other was a simple and slender arm with a bell style sleeve. Tia said she was unsure of which one worked best. Celeste called it a copout, called her out to doubt herself and said she wasn’t going to help. It might have been tough, but Celeste knew she needed to make this decision on her own.

“Yay!” Celeste claps when she sees the long and flowy sleeve. This was always the right choice; she is glad Tia figured it out on her own.

“I love that one. Definitely the right pick”

“It’s playful but classic.” Tia smiles with her mentor’s reassurance.

“Completely elevates that top. Tia, I know I’ve said this before, but you have a bright future ahead of you, some people are years in the industry without the eye you have.”

“Thanks.” Tia softly laughs, a faint blush swarming her cheeks.

Now that the prototype is complete, it’s ready for Tia to make a few more and ship them back to the “testers” back in Toronto and get their feedback. Then there are the edits, photoshoots, uploading details to the website. Just when she thinks the finish line is near, she realizes just how far it is.

The two of them talked for a little while longer. Celeste told her about all the struggles she’d been facing as a store owner while in a global lockdown. Her store was forced closed, curbside pickup and online orders were slow, some days non-existent. It filled Tia with so many emotions but worry and regret were the ones she couldn’t shake. If someone who had been successful in the industry was struggling at the drop of a hat, what did it mean for her? Sales were slow, to be expected for a new line, but how long could they be slow before they stopped all together?

**

Tia put the finishing details on the shirt but left the dress on the mannequin. Normally putting it off wouldn’t be an option. It’d eat at her, knowing there was so much to do but  not knowing how to fix it. But today as she walked down the hall toward the stairs, she had zero hesitation walking away because something else had consumed her mind.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Taylour screeches when the patio doors open. “Mommy, help!” He giggles mid-air as Auston tosses him to the other end of the pool, a large splash erupts around him and a few seconds later his head pokes through the surface.

“I can’t help you.” Tia chuckles as she shuffled around the pool’s edge, her feet getting kissed by the exploding water.

“Why not?” Taylour flings his arm around and starts moving toward Auston.

“Because every time I help, your dad throws me in the water.”

“Not true.” Auston winks at her.

Tia shakes her head.

“Please mommy!” Taylour squeals as Auston grabs him by the waist and once again launches him in the air.

Tia flips her wrist and glances at the time on her watch - the very expensive watch Auston brought back from the California road trip because he “thought of her when he saw it.” “We actually have to go, Taylour.”

“Nooooo!” He emphatically shakes his head.

“Yup.” Auston moves toward the stairs. The water line slowly descends, more and more of his chest coming on display for Tia to gawk at. As he moves toward the steps, he grabs Taylour and tugs him. “You said you wanted In and Out for lunch, we have to go get it.”

“Why can’t I stay with Uncle Freddie, and you bring it here.” Taylour pouts. He stands on one of the pool steps, half in – half out of the water, hoping to convince Auston to let him stay.

“Because we’re your parents not Uncle Freddie. Uncle Freddie doesn’t have to spend his time watching you.”

“I want to stay with Fweddie.”

“Well, you’re not.” Auston bites sharply, letting his frustration poke through. “You’re coming with Mommy and I.”

“I don’t want to go with you and Mommy,” he huffs, angrily smacking his hands against the water.

“Taylour, you are coming. Get out of the pool and get dressed, now.” Auston demands, but Tia catches the inflection in his voice and the smirk curving his lips.

“But why?” He raises his voice, becoming more frustrated with Auston’s unusual stern nature. Tia knew it wasn’t going to be easy getting her son from the pool, it never was.

“Because I said so.” Auston barks. “Keep it up and you won’t get to swim for the rest of the week.”

Taylour releases a loud and dramatic groan, then once again smacks his hands against the water. He stomps past Auston, grumbling under his breath, and goes right to Tia who has a warm fluffy towel waiting for him. Having lost the battle with his father, Taylour sets his sights on Tia, hoping for a different response.

“I don’t want to go, Mommy.” Taylour whined softly while he nestled his head to the crook of her neck. She hears the broken exhale and knows tears are on the way – he doesn’t handle Auston’s frustrations well - she just doesn’t know if they are real or fake.

“I know.” Tia kneels and starts rubbing her hands over his back, drying him off while softly comforting him. She gently tilts his head, and swats at the tears clinging to the corner of his eyes. “You have to come with us, sweetie.”

“Why?” Taylour sniffles, barely choking back the lump in his throat.

“Because we have a surprise for you.” Auston cards his hand through Taylour’s drenched curls and grabs his own towel.

“A surprise?!” He immediately perks up, his eyes widen and dart up to Auston. “What is it?”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if we told you, silly.” Tia playfully boops his nose.

As if the last thirty seconds never happened, Taylour immediately takes off toward the sliding door and gives it a firm tug to drag it open. He runs inside too excited to close the door behind him, then scurries across the hardwood.

“No running on the stairs!” Auston yells after him, but he is too late, Taylour is at the top of the stairs, slipping on the hardwood as he sprints past the railing that overlooks the living room.

“What did we get ourselves into?” Tia jokingly whines when Taylour lets out an “ooh” as he uses his palms to catch himself from falling.

Auston wraps his painted arm around Tia, over her shoulder. Tia brings her hand up and grabs his, then leans against his hard chest. Little drops of water land on her shoulder and in her hair. In an almost scarily still tone he whispers, “you’re going to miss this level of calm.” The worst part is, he is right.

**

Like most car rides, Taylour quickly became impatient. It wasn’t long after he finished his cheeseburger and shake before the “where are we going,” “how much longer” and “are we there yet” started. They knew the almost hour drive would be long, and planned for it, but no amount of movies, superhero action figures, colouring books would be enough, when all he wanted was to do was swim.

“Mommy, I’m bored.” He whines and dramatically throws his head back against the car seat. He tosses the tablet, and it lands on the floor, bouncing on impact.

Auston huffs out a dry laugh. Like Taylour, his patience is wearing thin. “Wouldn’t be if you watched the movie.”

“I don’t want to watch the movie anymore.” Taylour promptly informs him. His feet kick against the car seat and he dramatically sighs, again.

“We’re almost there, Tay.” Tia turns in her seat and silently laughs at his outfit choice. He insisted on getting ready himself and his shoes are on the wrong feet, his shirt must have come from the laundry given the ketchup stain on the chest, and his shorts are bright neon yellow. The fashion designer in her cringes but as a mom, she is thrilled that he is dressed, and understands that some battles aren’t worth it.

“How many minutes?”

“Less than five.” She picks up the tablet and pauses the movie, then puts it in her bag.

“That’s too long.” Taylour kicks his legs out in a frustrated fit.

“Of course, it is.” Auston mutters sarcastically, his knuckles whitening around the steering wheel.

Tia snaps her head to Auston, and she gives him a look, one he hasn’t seen often but immediately recognizes. “I promise, you’re going to love your surprise.”

They continue driving down the quiet rural road, slowly maneuvering turns. Whatever playlist Auston selected is quiet, so quiet the only sound is the air conditioning whirring through the vents and the rhythmic beeping of the blinker. Tia presses her head against the window and watches the dust kick out from under the tires.

“We’re here.” Auston announces once the vehicle is parked in front of a large farmhouse.

Taylour perks up and tries to sit up in his seat as much as possible. He takes in the surroundings, a blue house with a simple white fence, not distinguishing or exciting for an almost four-year old.

“What are we doing here?” He asks, not hiding the disgruntled look on his face.

“This is a boring surprise, Daddy.”

“You sure about that?” Taylour freed himself from the car seat, and when Auston opens the door, he is quick to leap out.

“Yeah.” He crinkles his nose and closes the car door behind him. “There is no slide or pool, nothing fun.”

Tia hears small overlapping barks and yips coming from inside the home, her heart flutters. She has been waiting for this day her entire life.

Gravel crunches under her feet as she strolled around the car. She crouches down and puts her hand on her knees, bringing herself to Taylour’s eye level. She adjusts his ball cap over his curls then smiles. “Would it still be a bad surprise if we told you there were puppies inside?”

His brown eyes glow. “I want to see the puppies!” He blurts out.

Auston crouches down and smiles, almost bigger than Taylour. “What if we told you; we’re going to bring one home?”

“MY OWN PUPPY!” Taylour screams while jumping in the air.

“A family puppy.” Auston corrects him.

“I’M GETTING A PUPPY!” He shrieks, unphased by what Auston told him.

Auston knew he would be excited when he found out. He assumed there would be jumping and screaming, thought there was the possibility of joyful tears. What he didn’t count on was Taylour being so excited he’d sprint past them toward the front door without another word.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Taylour pounds on the door as hard as he can. “I’m here for my puppy!” Knock. Knock. Knock.

Auston and Tia had barely made it two steps before the door creaks open, a middle-aged woman stands on the other side.

“Hello.” She smiles to Taylour, then to Auston and Tia.

Taylour bounces on his heels, even though they can’t see his face they know he is beaming from ear to ear. “Hi, my name’s Taylour. I’m here for my puppy.”

“Taylour, you can’t just – “

“It’s fine.” She laughs, Taylour isn’t the first child to react this way. She moves to the side to let him pass then waits for Tia and Auston to make their way up the porch.

“Sorry, he has wanted a puppy since before he could walk.”

The three of them hear Taylour squeal as an overlapping chorus of barks and whines echo down the hall.

“No apologies needed.” They all step inside and see Taylour standing on the outside of the fenced in area. He is leaning as far as he can without losing his balance, scratching the tops of the puppies’ heads, giggling the entire time. “I’m Sandra, and that,” she eyes over to the full-size Bernese Mountain dog who is across from Taylour keeping a watchful eye on her pups, “is Stella the mom.” Shortly after a white poodle rounds the corner and walks right up to Auston, nudging his hand for some pets. “This suck is Teddy.”

“Hiya Teddy.” Auston bends down and is instantly met with a lick to the cheek.

“Which one is mine?” Taylour’s head is on a swivel. This puppy. That puppy. That puppy. He can barely keep up. 

“We have to pick it.” Auston tells him.

“You can go in.” Sandra offers, motioning to the pen.

Auston and Tia step over the gate, then Auston hooks his arms under Taylour’s armpits to hoist him over. The three of them fall to the floor, immediately being swarmed by the puppies.

“Mommy!” Taylour giggles as one with a pink ribbon licks his cheek. “Mommy, I want this one.”

“Yeah?” She grins, gently scratching behind the ear.

“Any with a ribbon have a home already,” Sandra tells them. “They’ve all had their first round of shots and will be ready for the next one in about two weeks.”

“Daddy, look!” Taylour nods to his foot, where one is gnawing on his sock, attempting to pull it off.

“This one’s trouble huh?” Auston scoops up the black and white ball of fur, taking Taylour’s sock with him, then cradles it in his arms.

“He’s silly.” Taylour broadcasts, trying to yank the sock out of its mouth.

When the puppy keeps his jaw tightly clenched around Taylour’s sock, he sets the puppy on his lap to the ground and crawls over to Auston. He pets along its side with one hand, his other tugging on the sock, laughing the entire time. Finally, the puppy releases the sock only to start chewing at Auston’s wrist.

“I want this one.” Taylour gives it a kiss.

“Really? What about this one?” Tia eyes to the one curled in her lap, eyes getting heavy.

Taylour takes a second to glance between the two dogs, pondering Tia’s suggestion. She obviously knows just because a dog is calm now doesn’t mean it always will be, but something, most likely her motherly instinct is telling her not to pick the one already biting.

“Uhmmm.” He ponders. Taylour scoots closer to Tia to look at the puppy in her lap. “Ohh, this one is cute too, Mommy!”

“Mhm.”

Taylour’s eyes rapidly dart between the two dogs, and he appears deep in thought, but they both know he has zero selection criteria. A twinkle catches his eye, and his entire face somehow lights up even more.

“Can I have both puppies?”

“No.” Tia is very fast to answer.

“Puh-lease!” He turns to Auston. His move always is to try the other parent with hopes for a better outcome. “Please can I get two puppies, Daddy?”

Auston looks to Taylour, then to the puppy curled up in Tia’s arms sleeping, then to the one nibling at his wrist, and sighs. “I don’t think –“

“Please, Daddy! They can play together.” He eagerly cuts him off, desperately trying to bring home two dogs.

“Then who will you play with?” Tia can see the way Auston’s face is softening and knows she will have to be the one to shut this down.

“I’ll play with them, we’ll be best friends, all three of us!”

“I think we only need one dog for now.” Auston says dimly, but Tia knows if she wasn’t here to supervise, Auston would be bringing two dog’s home.

“No!” Taylour carefully climbs over the puppies and their toys to get to Auston and wraps his arms tightly around his neck. “We need two puppies, Daddy!”

Auston makes the mistake of looking at Taylour and sees the large pout and beady eyes, a cuteness barely rivalled by the puppy in his lap. Taylour falls to his knees and gets directly into Auston’s sightline. He puts his hands together as if he is praying, and desperately pleads with a croak in his voice. “Please can we get two, Daddy? Pleeeeease?”

Auston hates how his son knows exactly what to say and how to say it to make him forget all reason.

“Tay,” Auston sighs and prepares himself for the heartbreak, but he knows Taylour will get over it faster than Tia’s frustration if he gives in. “Just one.”

There is a groan that develops deep in his stomach as his shoulders drop. “No fair.”

“Look at how cute this little guy is though.”

Auston holds the wiggly puppy a little higher and hands it to Taylour. An excited yip comes from the puppy and a smile begins to creep its way back to Taylour’s face. “He is cute, Daddy.”

Auston reaches over and grabs a small stuffed pig and gives it to the puppy who wraps his mouth around it and starts whipping its head from side to side. “I want this one.” Taylour informs them without an ounce of hesitation.

Auston and Tia left Taylour with the puppies and found Sandra in the kitchen. They went over the paperwork and fine details. She gave them a bag with some food, a small blanket, along with a binder full of health information and veterinary records.

By the time they wandered back to the living room a few minutes later, Taylour had forgotten about his desire to bring home two. He was on his knees, heels digging into the back of his thighs, squeaking the pig in an attempt to engage the puppy.

“You two ready?” Tia walks to the edge of the puppy fencing, Auston’s hand on her back.

“Mhm.” Taylour enthusiastically nods. He stands up and Auston bends down to help him over then scoops up their puppy. “Thank you for my puppy!” Taylour addresses Sandra while making a beeline for the door.

Once Taylour was in the car, which was a task, he demanded the dog sit with him. Tia was a little uneasy about leaving them alone in the back, she had a feeling she should sit with them, just in case the puppy fell or wandered away and somehow found his way under a seat, but Auston assured her everything would be fine. He could tell she was anxious, so he reached over the console and laced his fingers with hers, then brought it to her lips and placed kisses on the back of her hand, knowing that would bring her to ease.

“What should we name him?” Auston asks as they sit at a red light, the steady sound of the blinker being drowned by the noise coming from the backseat.

“Rex.” Taylour proudly proclaims.

“Rex?” Auston probes with a laugh. The suggestion undoubtedly comes from the recent viewing of Toy Story. “I don’t know if that suits him.”

“Pickles!” He cheers from the back seat.”

“Pickles?” Tia shakes her head; she knew letting the almost-four-year-old name the dog would be a terrible idea. “What about Bernie?” She suggests in reference to its breed.

“No.” They simultaneously protest.

“How about Felix?” Auston pipes up. He doesn’t know why but the second he held him, that name felt right and it’s hard for him to imagine the dog as anything else.

“Yes!” Taylour promptly agrees. “I like that!”

Auston kept his hand linked with hers over the console as he drove the quiet Scottsdale streets. His eyes were mostly on the road, but he couldn’t help glancing in the rearview every chance he got, spending red lights turned around staring at Taylour and Felix.

The next few hours were somewhat of a blur. Taylour was eager to show Felix to Trevor and Fred. He had to FaceTime Mitch, Becks, Emily and Max,Sarah and Charlie, every person he knew. He never wanted to leave Felix, even tried getting him to come to the bathroom with him. He would lay on the floor beside him while he napped, pull him into his arms for pets, dangle a toy over his head, or run around in the yard, trying to get him to follow. Felix was a little overwhelmed at times, often quiet and reserved, unsure about the toys and people around him, but that didn’t stop Taylour. He was determined to be that pup’s best friend no matter what.

**

Auston found Tia in the kitchen checking her e-mail. Some Disney movie Taylour long ago lost interest in plays in the background, he uses the noise to sneak up in front of her. He presses himself into her and chuckles when she jumps.

Droplets of water fall from his hair and splatter on her shoulder, the towel that hangs loosely over his hips rubs against her thigh.

“He’s so happy.” Auston places a gentle kiss on her temple.

She peers out the glass doors to Taylour who is sitting on a lounger with Felix in his lap. She doesn’t know what he is saying, but he constantly laughs and places kisses to his head. Her heart is about to explode. She lets out a contentious sigh and rests her arms on his shoulders, aimlessly fiddling with the metal wrapped around his neck. “I’m so happy we did this.”

“Me too.” Auston tugs at her pony and tilts her head back, then places a kiss on her lips. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, too.”

Tia is expecting another kiss on her lips, only Auston ducks down and starts sucking along her neck.

“Auston.” She tries to scold him, only to shriek when he grabs a handful of ass from under her damp bathing suit.

“I want to kiss my girlfriend without a little parrot announcing it.”

“I know.” Tia sighs, because he has been announcing it - six times so far. “But we should go to our boys.”

Our boys.

Auston loves the way that sounds and even though it’s only been a couple hours he can’t wait until their family grows even more.

“They’re fine, Fred and Trevor have it under control. “Besides, you have a boy here who needs you.” He rolls her hips over his slowly growing erection and carves his nails into her flesh.

“Auston.” She playfully swats at his chest, letting out a breathy laugh.

“I told you to add fucking me to your list of things to do today,” he growls.

His fingers trail over her skin, pricked with goosebumps, until they find the bows that are holding up the barely-there bikini bottoms. His fingers tangle in and he begins to tug, loosening the knot.

“It’s like 4 pm.” It’s a futile attempt. They both know it.

Having heard no reason to stop, Auston quickly hoists her onto the counter. The towel drops to the floor as he presses her knees apart. He gently teases his fingertips past the seam of her lips, sending a ripple of goosebumps up her spine.

She wants to give in.

She can’t help it.

She spent too much time without him, her heart (among other things) physically ached for him and his touch. She never wants to be without it again, never wants to crave his physical touch like she did.

Following the hitch in her breath, two fingers slide inside, and are greedily welcomed by her heat. She arches toward his electric touch and his mouth moves toward the sweet spot below her ear.

It barely takes two minutes before a slew of curse words roll off Tia’s tongue. The air between them gets sticky and Auston licks up her neck. She can see the bulge beneath his bathing suit, rapidly swelling as he continues to stroke her inner walls. Through the pleasureful haze Tia barely manages to get her fingers under the waist band.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Auston purrs against her neck, teeth nipping at her warm skin. Pressure builds inside her – everywhere – as Auston pets her silky inner walls. “I’m gonna bend you over this counter.” Auston’s breath is hot and heavy against her skin, fanning over her in hypnotic waves. “Kitchen’s gonna be so dirty we’ll need a hazmat team.”

Tia shudders. Her cheeks colour pink.

She wraps a leg around his hip and pulls him close. His left hand immediately finds her thigh and runs up and down. Fingerprints are left on her hips; bright red scratch marks decorate his shoulders. He’s hungry and he won’t stop until he’s had his fill of her.

“That’s what you want, right?” All thoughts disappear from her mind when his thumb starts caressing her swollen clit. Every part of her is consumed by him, and she struggles to even breathe. “To use my cock to christen this place, huh?” Her breasts bounce following every thrust, threatening to spill out of the stringy bikini top any moment. Little butterflies dance in her belly. She is barely keeping it together and Auston can tell. “M’gonna fuck you so hard a black light will break in here.”

“Mngh.” Tia chokes out, as if her tongue is glued to the top of her mouth.

“Let my friends hear.” Auston encourages her. He spits in his hand then it disappears, slathering his cock in saliva. She shudders when his warm erection nudges against her throbbing clit. “Cum baby. Show them how good I make you feel.”

Auston kneads at her fraying nerve as his breath gets hotter and heavier against her skin. They are so absorbed by the coil tightening in her belly, her release building and building -

“AUSTON!” Ema howls, absolutely horrified.

Nothing would get Auston to stop. Nothing, except his mother would get him to stop.

Taglist: If you are in this list you have expressed interest in the series (either through likes/reblogs or by asking). If it’s crossed out your tag didn’t work. If you would like to be removed or added to the list send me an ask:

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[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 28, Unwanted - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, violence, death

Word Count: 861

Previously On...: You're boyfriend's back and Jade's gonna be in trouble. Hey na, hey na...

A/N: THREE MORE CHAPTERS LEFT OMG HOW DID WE GET HERE?!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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Jade was dragging you through the hallways of the base by your hair as she frantically searched for an exit that would keep her out of Bucky’s reach. At first, you tried to keep track of the path you took, making note of turns and counting doorways as you were pulled down long corridors in case the opportunity to escape presented itself and you had to retrace your steps, but the route was so convoluted, and your head so battered, that you quickly lost track of where you were going, and any sense of direction you’d been able to hold onto. 

“I need eyes,” Jade said, more to herself than to you, and soon she was shifting directions. Within moments, she was throwing open a metal door that appeared to lead to a security center. Tossing you unceremoniously inside, she bolted the door behind her and heaved a heavy breath.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, your tone dangerously mocking. “If he loves you as much as you think he does, you shouldn’t have any reason to run from him.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Jade chanted. She moved over to the row of security monitors and began quickly cycling through the screens. “Gotta find an exit,” she murmured to herself. “There has to be a way out where he won’t see.”

You took the opportunity her distraction provided to study the rest of the monitors, hoping to find some subtle way to contact Bucky, to let him know where you were or, at the very least, to try and find an escape route of your own. 

“How did he know where to find you?” Jade muttered as she continued to flip through the feeds.

You opted not to answer; you’d be a fucking idiot to reveal your distress bangle now. If you could keep it a secret from Jade, you’d ensure that Bucky would have the ability to find you, no matter where she ended up taking you. It would also let him know you were still alive.

You scanned the rest of the monitors, instead, and were shocked by what you saw: Room after room was littered in corpses; bloody, mangled, bodies where there had once been Hydra agents. Your eyes landed on a monitor in the far left corner of the room, and you saw him. Bucky was covered head to toe in the blood of his enemies, dual guns raised in the air as he opened fire on anyone who stood in his way. Though you couldn’t hear the words coming from his mouth, you could read his lips well enough to know he was screaming your name, searching for you as he tore through the facility, slaughtering every Hydra operative that crossed his path.

You had never seen him so enraged before. Yes, you knew that, as the Winter Soldier, he’d been capable of immense violence– you’d seen video footage of him in action, after all, but this? This was so much worse than that. Because Soldat complied. And Bucky Barnes? He was out for blood.*

You should have been frightened by the blatant display of absolute brutality, should have been repulsed by it. But instead, it excited you. It thrilled you, because you knew that he was doing this for you. To get you back, to keep you safe. He was willing to damn his soul to hell to protect you when you needed him. You should have been disgusted, but you’d never been more turned on by him in your life.

“Gotcha!” Jade exclaimed, drawing your attention back to her. She’d stopped her cycling through the security feeds on a non-descript door that, so far, seemed to have been spared from the ongoing carnage. Moving to a locker beside the desk, Jade reached inside and pulled out a handgun and several clips of ammo, tucking them snuggly into her belt.

“Come on,” she said, reaching out and grabbing your hair once more. “You’re my human shield for getting out of here.” She dragged you back out of the security station and into the hallway, looking both ways before turning left and sprinting down the corridor. It was all you could do to keep up; you had no doubt that if you faltered, she’d drag you across the floor behind her without a second thought. 

In minutes, you were at the door you’d seen in the feed. Jade let go of your hair and trained her gun on your head. “Open it,” she commanded. 

You winced in pain as you yanked on the door with your right hand, the left dangling limply and uselessly at your side. “Hurry up!” Jade shouted at you.

“I’m trying,” you grunted as you pulled. “The door’s fucking heavy, and in case you forgot, I’m down an arm because of you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jade grumbled, reaching around you to yank the door open, herself. “Do I have to do fucking everything around here?” She jabbed the barrel of her gun into your back. “Go,” she urged.

You stepped into the darkness of the open tunnel and, doing your best not to stumble or jostle your ruined arm, began to walk.

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

[bookwyrminspiration]

ok not to alvar post in your inbox again but liek.

“You want to talk about being left for dead?” Alvar lunged forward, but Sandor and Ro shifted their blades to block him. “ I was left in a pod of orange goo while my brother and sister stood by watching! The same brother who threatened to carve me up with a knife earlier that night! The brother who stopped pressing buttons to try to save me as the pod filled up—did he tell you that? He let the tank fill, waiting for me to drown” (632).

this excerpt makes me want to eat concrete in a good way. we love to talk about fitz stopping pressing buttons, but the way alvar is angry at fitz for stopping isn’t really talked about as much as it could be i think.

i always thought it was so funny because alvar was given the chance to change and come back from what he did throughout flashback. and when his memories came back, he made his choice to turn his back on his family, but he’s mad when said family turns their back on him in return. but i rlly wanted to hear your thoughts on this because you’re one of the most ardent buttonsposters on this site

this is FASCINATING. Okay, so. Looking at Alvar's familial feelings, a lot of his hatred is centered on his parents. He felt drowned in unrealistic expectations he could never live up to as the only Vacker kid, and saw Fitz as a replacement, his parents saying he'd never be good enough. Whether this is true isn't really relevant, as it's how he took it

Fitz ends up in a weird cross section here where he hasn't actually done anything to Alvar but exist. Alvar hates Fitz for replacing him, but it was their parents that chose to have him. Everything Alvar hates about Fitz is a manifestation of his resentment for Alden and Della.

Fitz is the perfect golden boy. A telepath like their father, the youngest to naturally manifest at that. Replaced Alvar in looking for Sophie--actually found her when Alvar passed her by. Fitz enrages Alvar for being everything he thinks their parents wanted that he wasn't

But Fitz doesn't have to be. I think that's key. Fitz could throw it all away, stop being perfect, drown under the pressure like Alvar did, and join him. And I think Alvar wants him to. Then he wouldn't be replaced, and instead Fitz could serve as evidence of how horrible their parents were. If Fitz breaks, too, then the problem wasn't with Alvar

And yet he isn't. FItz is choosing, again and again, his family. His parents. To be on the opposite side. Which means he's now making an active choice to become the replacement he inadvertently always was, proving the problem's with Alvar. Which means Alvar can hate him for being himself now. He's just like them, and he's turning their sister, too. The little sister who was the most likely to get him--so when she doesn't? They're blinded, representing everything wrong with their world. The expectations, the indoctrination of the next generations, everything

Alvar is desperate to be the one hurting. He grew up incredibly privileged and only talks of the burden it was. Keefe said Umber was left for dead and he immediately lashes back with this quote, talking about how he's been hurt just as much if not more because he got gooed. And not only that, his family gooed him.

Which reveals he does value family to an extent. If it's worse to be hurt by your siblings, it's because they matter more. Again, everything Alvar hates is centered on their parents. Fitz and Biana were supposed to choose him, to see his pain and understand him, leave their parents behind. They're siblings, even if they're bratty and naive.

We see that in the repetition of brother before each point; he's highlighting the connection they should've had--and blaming its dissolution on Fitz. A little on Biana, but mostly on Fitz, as Fitz was the replacement and the spark to the fuel of Alvar's suffering. The last straw. He's furious. And frames everything as if its unbelievable.

Which implies, potentially, that he wouldn't do the same. That he wouldn't take a knife to his sister, or watch his brother drown. That for all his talk, he sees them as different from their parents and that they matter, deep down.

I think Alvar is desperate to have his pain acknowledged, to be seen and understood, which is a valid desire. But he has blown it entirely out of proportion in his quest to be seen--and his siblings were his main hope. Who better to understand what being a Vacker kid did to him than the other Vacker kids? But because of that blowing it out of proportion, even though they're all Vacker kids, they can't understand. Because Alvar's reaction is illogical. He's in the wrong, and he refuses to understand or realize that because there's kernels of validity to his feelings.

so he's simultaneously furious at Fitz for replacing him, being everything he wasn't, and not choosing him, and desperate to be seen and acknowledged and understood by him and Biana.

basically Alvar's a clusterfuck of complications of a man

[scribble-dribble-writes]

A Lingering Past

<<<Prev(The Bargain) (Sinister plot) Next>>>

Pairing: Buggy x female mermaid reader

Word count: 2000

Warnings: none

Content: Buggy loses you and it breaks him, making him remember the first night he saw you.

Y'all asked for it, here is Buggy pining and longing 🥹😭💖💖💖

---

“I would sure love to help you guys but it’s time I exit stage left.”, Buggy ran off from the chaos of the fight feeling the thrill of finally being put back together.

He had helped the Straw hat pirates more graciously than he would have liked and all that work for nothing in return too. But now that wasn’t the core issue, he scrambled through Arlong Park dodging blows or the possibilities of being lured into a fight because he only had one goal.

He had to find you. His mind relentlessly thinking of you when he was with those bickering kids, that even his incessant sea shaties or jokes weren't giving him relief.

He rubbed the base of his neck, flexed his fingers, the image of that tank you were put in flashing across his mind. For a man having become famous and fearsome all by portraying himself as a fool, his life wasn’t so light hearted or comedic.

The dread crept in, the guilt of his plans going askew and inadvertently causing you pain. He knew his plans always had the tendency to fail and yet in the end he would always profit from it. But this plan of his had failed and as he tirelessly searched for you with a fading hope that somehow he could still be victorious, to find you and get back, it only seemed more unlikely.

But his sick prickled when another image flashed in his mind. Of you in the tank having run out of oxygen because of his delay. He placed a gloved hand over his mouth as he gagged. He hadn’t eaten anything in the last day and a half. So he stopped by the open bar to compose himself when he caught sight of the glass bowl. Somehow seeing it empty only prolonged the anxiety.

He ran to it, unable to believe the new possiblity that was beginning to creep into his mind, that he had be double crossed or cheated. Or maybe in the nugget of belief he held in optimism and everything good, there was also a possibility that you could have escaped. The rise and fall of hope and despair wasn't doing him any good, he began to feel seasick while on land.

Just as he stood there, he recognized one of the henchmen from Arlong’s crew trying to sneak away, the one who was left behind to keep an eye on you. Buggy’s patience had worn out, he needed answers and so he reached out to get them, in his style.

Before the man could run, Buggy extended his arm but let loose his hand towards him. With catapulting speed, he felt his fingers reach for the man’s throat and from where Buggy stood, he willed his hand back to him dragging the henchman along within his closed fingers.

“Where’s my girl?”, his deadly stare bore into the chocking man in his grasp.

He wasn’t willing to give an answer and so his anger flared even further. Buggy rammed the man to the ground, letting his detached hands continue to construct his airways as the fish man tried to escape his hold.

"I ask you a question, I expect an answer.", Buggy gritted his teeth.

He put one foot on the man’s chest and leaned towards his face to see his unrelenting effort at keeping his mouth shut. The veins in his eyes turned red as his throat began to expand. It was now or never, he either got the clue or this man died in the process. But Buggy held on, with what hope he didn’t know.

The henchman tapped his hand on the ground as a sign that he yielded, Buggy let go, his hands snapping back to his arm as he heard the man spit out in a coarse tone.

“Her ransom was paid.”, the man coughed and it caused Buggy to spiral..

“She was never yours.”, he laughed cynically as he looked up at Buggy.

But now Buggy’s rage couldn't be bridled further. They had sold you under some pretext, the failure of his strategy had now caused him to lose the only important person in his life.

He crouched down to level his gaze with the henchman’s.

“What nonsense are you spouting now, gills?”, he sneered knowing well that the red smile on his face didn’t look funny anymore as the man groveling at his feet shifted in fear so to enhance Buggy smiled holding up his blades against his chin.

“The island of Makara had lost its princess when a coup took place twenty five years ago. A mermaid with the same resemblance as your missus.”, the man slurred his words as he held up his hands begging for mercy.

Lost princess? How had he never known?

"She's not my....", Buggy huffed. "Never mind.", he said looking away.

It changed everything. Every time he looked into your eyes, he had a feeling you were more than just what you had settled for. More than what he could offer you.

“What I find funny is that she went willingly. Maybe all she needed was something better than you for her to leave you behind without so much of a thought.”, the man chuckled.

Buggy got up, putting all his pent up frustration into a kick to the fish man’s abdomen. “The funny thing is, I don't need your insight. Stop talking like you knew her.”

“Did you?”, the man grunted and Buggy paused, all this useless talk was working it's way into his head.

The world swirled around him, all the voices in his head coming to life. Some criticising him for having lost someone as valuable as you. His mind concocting ways in which you could have been more pivotal if you held a higher social standing, all the money and information you would have been privy to. But the one that ached the most was the subdued voice of his heart telling him that he had lost you forever. Because now your life could afford you everything he couldn’t.

What had to offer besides his pathetic self?

He knew you, the true you. Would that be enough?

Would that compare to a throne and a kingdom?

Would you have been satisfied with a useless man's love as opposed to gold?

It broke him, the self hatred taking over his body in ways that made him  heart collapse. All those nights he held with fondness now ruined by thinking how your skin held an impression of him. Him! A clown of the seas while you were royalty.

With every step he took, the loneliness began to wrap around him, his heart heavy with loss and contention. He was now free to go after the One piece but why did it seem irrelevant now?

His crew, his ship, you, all lost in a matter of days when it took him years to build and find.

It was possible that wherever you were, you hated him now having learnt of what you were actually worth. Everytime you sat by next to him in his Captain’s quarters, trying to piece together the memory of the night you ended up by the cove, he would change the topic. Not because he wanted to prevent you from finding out your heritage, your true home. It was out of a more stupid selfish reason.

If he had known the truth about your past, he would have taken you back to your island himself. But the whole problem was because he could never seem to walk away from you. He balanced on a tightrope in his mind, he wanted to figure out your past but the fear from that was, if you did, you would slip away from his fingers and take with you the only comfort he had in his life, that not even his art couldn’t soothe his pain.

Everything else lost its meaning the moment he erased you from his life.

The night by the cove, as he slipped away from the loud local pub by the docks to hear of the raid that had happened in a nearby town. He had spent a fair time at sea by then, that news like these weren't as surprising. But in order to battle the numbness that he developed through the years of being part of a crew he would look out to the ocean every night, that once gave him joy.

Before he ate the devil fruit, he would frolic in the salty waters. To work off his frustration or take time for himself, to indulge in a swim. His fingers twitched even as he thought of feeling the waves brush against him, muscle memory, it was a part of him, a part of him that had died once he gained this ability of his.

So as he walked by the beach, making sure his feet didn’t touch the waves that splashed against the shore. He heard your voice then, your song, in a language he didn’t understand but his soul did, cause the pain in it was the same he carried. The dark night concealed the sharp rocks so he feared as he climbed over it carefully, afraid that one cut would cause him to turn to pieces to then be washed away.

But he persisted, the only time he worked for something because his heart craved this peace he felt as he heard your singing. All his torment seemed to vanish and that was a relief no amount of his treasures could give him.

And there you were, your long dark brown hair spread around you in the water like the wisps of black smoke that escaped from his cannon balls. Your dark eyes reflecting the clear dark sky he would wish for stars in. Your tailing catching the light as you swirled it anxiously, each scale like studded jewels he could never find in any loot. He was mesmerized as he reached his hand out to you. Not because he wanted to capture you, he wanted to know how it would be like, to touch you.

To his surprise that given his appearance, you waded closer, placing your hand softly into his when he saw your webbed fingers. He inhaled sharply, for so long he had seen ordinary people around him, his nose a hideous thing he could never get past but your fingers, the slight shimmer of scales of your skin.

You were unique and beautiful. Giving him the smallest hope that he maybe he was too, only that no one could see it.

He balanced his feet with great effort, one slip and he would drown in this lagoon. But then he saw a gnash on the side of your tail that could only be caused by a harpoon. You were driven into this rocky place in search of protection.

His heart twitched as he fear faded. You were cast aside and hunted. He held onto your hand firmly, he didn’t have a proper ship yet or a strong enough crew but he was certain of one thing. That he would protect you. He pulled you up but just as he did he watched in awe as your tail transformed into legs, your dress sticking onto your wet skin.

He held you close as he wrapped you within his coat as he let you catch your breath. You rested your head on his chest. You were a teenager just like him, your tan skin so supple he wanted to trace his finger over your cheek. But no one had sought comfort from him, ever.

So now as he watched you steady yourself with your eyes closed as you held onto him, his heart beating in sync with yours. There was nothing more precious than this in the world, his heart felt full for the first time. As his eyes traced your body he saw your wound on your calf and observed with wonder how the water sealed your scars.

The more he saw, the more he began to realize how similar you were to him. That just like him, you sealed yourself back together, over and over. He wrapped his hand around you, here in the dark hidden from every eye, he could let his defenses drop. He knew how hard it was, to always walk away as though nothing had impacted or hurt you. Although neither of your bodies retained the scars, he knew of the scars your heart always remembered.

“Let’s get you home, fishtail.”, he said softly as he carried you. Someone at the pub should know where you had to go, but until then in his arms for these few extra minutes, you were his. He had found you and so took solace in his greatest find that even the one piece could never contend with.

Now all that time he cheated himself to have with you had caught up, to take you from him forever, to forbid him from even trying to approach you. What good would it do if he stormed the gates of your kingdom?

Would you still run to his arms?

You would be queen and he, like the moniker he had chosen for himself, would be the jester.

Fate had a funny way of reminding him where he belonged and as often as he played it off to maintain his appearance as a fearsome pirate, it felt like all the forces had conspired together to play the biggest prank on him. To give him everything he wanted and then rip it away only to laugh at his face.

You had warned him against it, his foolish head stuck in the clouds, and yet he never listened. How stupid, he had let himself to believe a man like him could be blessed to have a life with a woman like you, but it wasn’t to be.

[disaster-writer]

What Lips Can’t Say

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Summary: Mando realizes that he may not be able to love you the way you want to be loved

Word Count: 3.4k

Rating: T

Warning: Mentions of human trafficking

Din Djarin wasn’t cut out for this. He wasn’t cut out for playing the role of ‘Dad’ or talking to a woman in hopes of pursuing a relationship. 

He ignored the scene behind him in the pilot seat with every ounce of will that he had, but the temptation to look behind himself was all too strong. Especially since he knew he’d only find you cooing at Grogu and staring into his wide innocent eyes going on about how beautiful they were while you stroked his cheeks with him responding in his own gibberish speak.

This entire situation the Mandalorian seemed to find himself in felt all too domestic in the most off kilter way imaginable.

He always figured that if he decided to settle down, it would be with a Mandalorian woman that he’d have a human kid with. It certainly didn’t consist of a little green Jedi menace as a son and attempting to pursue an escaped slave turned thief and con artist.

And you were both his bounties— go figure.

Perhaps he was growing soft. Years ago he would have never done anything like this.

When Din was younger he had hunted kids before and women. He had no problem collecting the price on their heads back then. Sure, maybe it made him feel like shit for a couple days but he needed the money.

But now it was as if he had no self control. He was at least able to hand Grogu over for a day or so but when it came right down to it, he couldn’t just leave the little hellraiser in the hands of the Empire. Maybe you were right to fawn over the kid’s eyes like you had, it was probably those same eyes that had thawed something within Din and ripped out any spine he had in the process.

And he didn’t even want to think about how far he went with you. 

You were only frozen in carbonite for three days before allowing Peli, of all people, to inadvertently talk him into thawing you and helping you find your way back home.

The mechanic had went on her own little tour inside the Razor Crest when he had stopped by for her to fix some things, and upon her little expedition she stuck her nose where it hadn’t belonged.

In the frozen bounties.

That was when she had spotted you, frozen in carbonite with a look of terror marring your beautiful face. 

Peli had immediately gone on and on about how great you were, hanging out with her and the droids to gamble in rounds of Sabacc despite you losing every single time. Then in Peli fashion she had said too much, she went into your sob story, how you were trying to get back home after being separated from your family and seeing your parents killed by stormtroopers right in front of your eyes, and how the bounty on your head was because you had escaped from your slavemaster. So you eventually turned to stealing and conning others in order to survive while you tried to find your way back to your home planet.

”What slave trade was she in?” He had stupidly asked.

”She’s a beautiful young woman, what do you think tin can?”

”The bounty’s too high for an escaped slave.”

”That’s because she left with a little souvenir,” Peli had grinned.

”…What did she take?”

”The bastards cock.”

And that’s why Din Djarin never asked kriffing questions.

Half way towards Nevarro, going through hyperspace. Din had found himself leaving the cockpit and heading towards the captured bounties.

He had flipped through them until he landed on you.

With a sigh, he had unfroze you.

He still remembers the wail that escaped your tense throat and the absolute panic that radiated from you. You were disoriented and blinded from the carbonite and Din had to hold you down to keep you from hurting yourself while you cried about not being able to see.

He had to sooth your panic… something he was certainly not very adept at. But once he had gotten through to you, once he had told you the blindness would wear off, and when he had told you he would help you get back home. Only then, did you calm down.

Little did he know, you lived on an unknown planet in the outer rim, with the strangest kriffing orbital pattern.

So now, almost two years later, you were still with him and Grogu.

There was a particular noise Grogu made behind him that made you giggle in response, and your giggle had made Din’s traitorous heart skip a beat.

He swallowed nervously, keeping his eyes ahead of him in space, once again ignoring the urge to turn around.

Right… there was also that.

It was something that he would forever blame on Mayfeld— if that bastard had just kept his big mouth shut Din maybe would have had a chance of living a life in denial until dropping you off on your home planet only then realizing what had been happening once it was too late.

He was falling for you.

It was so kriffing stupid and made him feel like a teenager all over again. He knew it was ridiculous, he knew it would never happen, but that didn’t stop his thoughts from straying to you or worrying over you whenever you had tagged along on a job.

It was an observation Migs Mayfeld had pointed out during a job he needed help with, and he could no longer ignore his feelings, not with it being said out in the open. The words taunted him, feeling as if they just hung in the air now whenever he was around you.

”Didn’t know you were wife shopping. Looking for a mom for Grogu so you can keep playing house?”

”I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Din had replied.

Mayfeld had furrowed his brow, looking at Mando like he was insane, “Don’t act like I haven’t noticed you hogging her from the moment I stepped onto this ship. I haven’t been able to say two things to the woman without you hovering.”

”That’s not—“

”Alright. Let me ask her out then.”

“What?”

”What. She’s pretty and single, so I’m gonna ask her out,” with that he had headed to the door of the cockpit, putting his hand on the handle to go to the bunker below but before he could open it Mando had placed a hand on the door, holding it shut.

His own actions had shocked himself.

”Interesting.”

Mando hadn’t known what to say, so he remained silent.

”A little advice. Just tell her— who knows? Maybe she has a thing for quiet, brooding Mandalorians.”

He was fucked from that moment on.

”Shifting into hyperspace.”

You hummed in response behind him as he shifted the ship into hyperspace as to continue the search for your home planet.

Din stared into space as the stars zipped past the ship in striking lights of blue. A beautiful sight that’s gotten all too familiar, causing it to lose it’s original charm.

But slowly he spun in his seat to witness one sight that didn’t have the capability of losing its charm.

Just as Din had assumed, there you sat in the copilot’s chair, forehead pressed against Grogu’s as you stared lovingly into his eyes with a grin. Grogu’s small hand had come up to pat your cheek.

It reminded him of the first time you had seen Grogu. 

You had been sitting in his bunker for a few days as you waited for your sight to return, Grogu had been in his hammock as usual. It was morning and you had just woken up to find your eye sight had returned just enough for you to finally get around safely. 

You had known that there was a baby on board, but what you hadn’t expected was to be greeted with the sight of the small creature with impossibly large and innocent eyes.

Din was barely able to pry Grogu from your hands that entire day.

So you had done this a lot with the child.

He had never asked why, the same way you had never asked him about his helmet or the things he would do due to his creed so it didn’t quite feel right for the Mandalorian to ask you about your own peculiar habits.

But something felt different in this moment. 

And whatever that was, it had compelled him to finally put the words into question.

”Why do you do that?” Came the smooth modulated voice from his helmet.

You perked up, lifting your forehead from Grogu’s to meet the same blank stare of Mando’s helmet that you have grown so accustomed to.

”Do what?” Your smile was giddy— a smile that the child always seemed to pull out of you… He’d be lying if it didn’t make him the slightest bit jealous, even if he knew it was silly.

”Stare into his eyes like that.”

”Oh,” you hummed, gazing back down to stroke Grogu’s cheek just below his eye, before peering back up at Mando. “It’s a uh— custom, I guess you could say.  Something my people do back home.”

Din was quiet for a moment. 

You both had been quite similar to one another. Neither one of you spoke much but instead allowed actions to take precedent over words. 

It was one of the reasons you both worked well together. A deeper understanding that transcended the use of words.

But that also lead to crossroads such as this, where Din wanted to learn more about you but didn’t know how to ask you, while you needed the prompting since you never just gave it up.

So he stammered, “Does it— Does it mean something or…” he trailed off awkwardly.

You finally straighten up to start addressing him properly. You laughed softly at his flustered words, “Where’s this sudden curiosity stemming from,” you grinned.

”…You just do it a lot.” He spoke softly.

You hummed again, thinking about how you could explain this cornerstone of your culture to him. 

Truthfully you were quite open about this particular thing but with Mando being a Mandalorian you had decided to keep it to yourself. You’ve always figured that at best he wouldn’t understand where you were coming from but at worst it could accidentally end up insulting his entire way of life… so you kept it shut away.

You had never offered it up and he had never pried.

Until now it seemed.

You quirked your head in thought before deciding to ultimately bite the bolt.

”My people believe that love comes from the eyes.”

Mando didn’t respond.

So you elaborated, “The concept of love, no matter what kind, is very important in my culture. You could say it’s what we are all about. Just as the Mandalorians are trained to fight and handle weapons as part of your religion, love is the main focus for us.”

”… The Mandalorians believe in love.” He responded softly, something was beginning to ache within himself at your words.

You nodded, “Yes, the loyalty that the Mandalorians have is very similar to us— it’s my favorite part of the Mandalorian Creed if I am being honest.”

Din was starting to realize that you may have known more about him and his people than he did about you and yours all along.

”However, we were never strong believers in learning how to fight… it was how the Empire was able to target us and invade the planet. Everything I learned, the stealing, the conning, how to fight back in combat and fire a blaster goes against everything I ever believed in,” you said sadly, eyes falling back to the baby in your arms who cooed at you.

The ache was rapidly growing within Mando’s chest. He had asked you to steal for him during certain jobs, you were smaller than him and quite efficient at the task. He had also had you aid him in fights and… he was the one that wanted to teach you how to fire a blaster. A memory he once found intimate had quickly soured at the thought of making you turn your back on your beliefs.

He felt sick. But you continued.

”Perhaps we were just too peaceful, but I loved every minute of it. My parents were madly in love, the way my father would look at my mother always made me want to find a man that would look at me the same way one day. What I do with Grogu is something parents do with their babies to convey how much they love them.”

”I didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

You smiled at Din— a heart stopping smile, “You’re not the only one that’s secretly a softy.”

”I’m not—“

You wordlessly held Grogu up, making him concede your point.

”So eyes, huh?” He asked, not sure if he wanted to hear anymore but at the same time he liked hearing you speak about something you clearly held so much passion for.

If he knew it was this easy to get you to talk this whole time, he would have asked sooner.

”Yes,” you nodded, “We believe our eyes say things our lips can’t even attempt to say with words. I suppose some of our habits are quite strange when you think about it.”

”Like what?”

”Well… it was quite easy to tell when someone wanted to pursue you, all you had to do was keep eye contact when talking to them and pretty soon they would take the hint. School kids have a funny thing they do when they have a crush on someone— during lectures it wasn’t unusual for kids to be staring at the one they liked throughout the class— it drove our teachers crazy,” you giggled, “There was one time I had three boys staring at me at once during a lecture— I was a bit of a heartthrob back then if you could believe,” you laughed again.

’I do’

Din forced a dry laugh.

”When lovers are alone, you would simply gaze into your partners eyes for as long as you wanted. No words would need to be said because everything was said with their eyes— we also value physical touch quite a bit so you could imagine where those situations likely ended up.” You blushed, looking out the windshield of the ship.

”Did you have a lover,” his voice shook.

”I did,” you nodded, “Again, I was quite the heartthrob. We were together until I ran from home after my parents were killed. That was when I fled to Coruscant just to end up a slave,” your voice soured, “I suppose I was just too trusting.”

”You were never taught that not everyone has good intentions,” he suddenly realized.

You nodded, “I guess you could say that. Not everyone on my planet was good, we’re all just human after all, but I never thought…” you trailed off. Din watched as you tried to blink back a set of tears before continuing, “But yes, I had a boyfriend— he had the most beautiful green eyes. I would stare into them for hours. He was one of the most desired boys in my town and all the girls were jealous of me but… the Empire would come to take everything away.”

Din shut his eyes, wanting the pain that took hold of his heart to ebb away as he asked his next question, “Are you trying to get back to him?”

You sighed, “No. We were only children then. He’s grown and I’m grown— I know that I am no longer the same person he once knew and I am sure he’s carried on with his life. But that’s alright,” You finally looked back at Mando.

It was quiet once more. Din was trying to swallow down his emotion while you continued to reflect on your home.

Din could almost hear is heart beating in the silence.

”We used to play a game as kids, two friends would gaze into each other’s eyes and…” you trailed off before your eyes suddenly lit up. “We should play.” 

“But I can’t—“ 

“That’s okay, we can still play,” you said excitedly, placing Grogu back into his pram, who had been talking now at the sudden excitement. 

You stood up, grasping Mando’s hand to stand him up and pull him behind the seats of the cockpit to the open space.

”Kneel,” you said, climbing onto your knees and pulling him down by the hand.

He quickly did as you said so that you were kneeling across from each other.

”Can you take your gloves off?”

Din wordlessly took them off.

”Okay so— if this is too much you can stop me, but this was the game,” you picked up his gloveless hands and placed them to cup your nape and the back of your head, your own hands then coming to cup his. “Is it alright if I touch your skin?”

”Yeah,” Din exhaled, already with his head in a spin.

With his consent you had slid your fingers and palms into the cowl of his flight suit and cupped the warm skin of his neck.

”Now,” you pulled him forward so his helmet touched your forehead, causing his breath to hitch.

He was beginning to see even more, how different the two of you were, where this was just a game for you but for him… this was a keldabe kiss. 

“All we have to do is stare into each other eyes for a little while— now this’ll mostly be a game for you so just stare into my eyes.”

And so he did.

Din focused on the exchange of warmth between his hands and your neck, feeling how much smaller your neck was compared to his own hands. And focused on the feeling of your hands on his neck and— Maker, you were playing with hairs of his nape causing his eyes to roll bac— he snapped out of it and looked back into your eyes.

It was dark in hyperspace but there was just enough light from the stars to see them reflecting in your eyes. He could almost make out the patterns of your iris. He noted the way you had to peer up at him through your lashes due to your heights. 

He both hated and loved his helmet in this very moment. He understood what you had meant, your eyes held so much in them and he would spend hours trying to figure out each emotion in them if he could. But he was secretly grateful that you couldn’t see him staring at you like a Massiff stares at a Tusken Raider when getting attention.

It hurt something deep within himself to realize he could never give you the one thing you believed to be the cornerstone of love.

Din could swear is loyalty to you, keep you protected and safe, he could do everything in his power to give you a happy life.

But he could never let you look in his eyes.

There would be no loving gazes exchanged between you both, he could never look at you the way your father looked at your mother, he could never gaze into your eyes for hours until someone bent first and had the night end in a passion of your shared love.

And it was something Din couldn’t knowingly ask you to abandon.

”Okay,” you finally spoke, jarring him from the trance your eyes held him in. “Remember the size of my pupil.”

”Alright.”

A moment later you had closed your eyes. “Now the lighting isn’t ideal but the point of the game is to see if I fell in love with you after that. So when I open my eyes if my pupil gets bigger than it did before, I’m in love.”

He said nothing. 

You opened your eyes.

Din Djarin knew that this was just a silly kids game you played back home. He knew that this was terrible lighting. He knew that if you couldn’t connect with him through his eyes like you were taught and raised to believe then there was little hope that you could ever fall in love with him.

And yet… he could have sworn your pupils got just half a milimeter larger.