#and you want to just never write again so none of this trash will see the light of day?

[aurorawritestoescape]

BE MY GUEST

No outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: working as a hotel housekeeper, you meet a handsome guest under quite unexpected circumstances. An awkward conversation leads to a friendly relationship that grows into something none of you expects.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, lots of fluff, a bit of angst, age gap (the size is up to you, Joel is in his late 30s-early 40s, reader is younger), Sarah is alive (7 y.o), pining, strangers to friends to lovers, soft Joel, insecure reader, accidental flashing, praise kink, f!oral, unprotected piv, creampie, m/f masturbation, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, aftercare, phone/video sex, pet names, swearing. Joel can lift reader. Reader wears a uniform dress.

Word count: 12k

A/n: I’m finally posting this story and I’m sooo excited. It took me a lot of time, I love these two very much and I hope you all will like them, too. It’s written for @yxtkiwiyxt ‘s Never Have I Ever Challenge. My prompt was ’never have i ever booked a hotel room just to go have sex‘. Thank you for the fun event, Kiwi!💞 Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and supporting me through the journey aka writing this fic lol ILY❤️ Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST

“Housekeeping!” you announced yourself loudly when you came up to room 605. Following the protocol, you’d knocked three times before that, waited for two minutes and the silence was your invitation to enter. You rolled your housekeeping cart closer to the door and opened it with your master key.

When you walked through a short hall and into the living area, you expected to find anything. Having worked as a hotel housekeeper for only a year, you’d already seen your fair share of messy beds, spilled drinks, broken furniture, completely trashed rooms, so nothing could surprise you.

Nothing except for a man lying naked in bed with his cock out. Even a glance was enough to realize that he was busy stroking himself, a mobile phone in hand.

Everything happened lightning fast— you gasped, hands clasped over your mouth — the man cursed and hastily covered himself with a sheet — you squeaked a timid ’sorry’ and ran out of the room.

A string of curses was leaving your mouth as you were hurrying away from room 605, pushing the heavy cart in front of you.

***

Minutes later you were in the staff locker room, panting, sweaty palms pressed to your chest, your heart racing.

‘Why?’ You were asking yourself, ’why didn’t he hear you announce yourself and knock?’‘ First, you thought that he wanted you to see him— during your time working in the hotel you’d met a few creeps, but that man seemed genuinely shocked, when you appeared in his room, and embarrassed when your eyes landed on his exposed member.

He must have been wearing headphones. Probably. Hopefully. For some reason you didn’t want him to be a perv. He was too handsome, too hot. And his cock was… ahhh it was amazing— long and thick, fat tip angry red and glistening in the bright light of the sun. He must have been close to coming.

Your eyes were still widened, hands shaking, but your lips curved into a little smile, thinking about him, a heat rising in your belly. You started bringing any detail you could to mind - his dark disheveled hair - he’d probably just woken up, his naked chest, broad and strong, a happy trail on his tummy, the big hand, wrapped around his —

”Hey, babe!”

You jumped, scared to death, your heart, that was slowing down after the incident, was pounding again.

“Hi, Max,” you breathed out, greeting your colleague and friend who’d just entered the room. She was your age, funny, kind and extremely nosy.

You turned to the lockers, away from her, embarrassed by the tingling between your legs, but also worried that she’d notice your flustered face.

”What’s wrong?”

Fuck!

“Nothing,” you lied, trying to calm down. Silence filled the room. When you glanced back at Max, she was staring at you, her eyes narrowed. Obviously, she wasn’t buying it.

“Ok. I’ll tell you,” you sighed, reluctant to talk about it at first, but Max was always reliable and loyal so you thought ‘why the hell not’ and started talking, “Something happened.”

“Yeah?” She immediately lit up, anticipating something juicy.

“I was working on the 6th floor and I entered this room and — shit— I saw a man, you know, naked and —“

Max opened her mouth exaggeratingly wide and was waiting for you to go on.

“That man — he was ehm— watching something on his phone and —you know?”

You were trying to find the right words, but Max was not the one to beat around the bush.

“Jacking off?!”

“Shhh, Max!” you hissed, raising your hands, begging her to speak quieter with your pleading eyes. “What if Ms Hewitt hears?!”

“Ms Hewitt hears what?”

You wanted to drop dead at that moment. Your heart plummeted into your stomach when the housekeeping supervisor, a tall blond middle aged woman, appeared behind you.

“Ehm, nothing,” you replied with a fake smile.

Ms Hewitt looked you up and down as she always did, checking if everything was perfect in her staff’s attire, then her eyes focused on your face. Her piercing gaze was enough for you to crumble, especially when she said,

“Doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’.”

You had never been a good liar so you took a deep breath and decided to come clean. You were sure that you’d done nothing wrong but anxiety was still churning your stomach.

You cleared your throat and started talking a mile a minute as if it would make it sound less bad.

“I was on the 6th, was about to clean the 605, and I knocked three times, waited for two minutes. No one answered so I opened the door. I announced myself! I did everything by the book, I swear, but somehow the guest didn’t hear me and he was naked in bed and… and…”

Max’s high pitched ‘jacking off’ almost flew out of your mouth but you shut it just in time.

Miss Hewitt's poker face didn’t reveal anything for a few long seconds until she pushed,

”And?”

You shifted on your feet nervously, cleared your throat and exhaled,

“He was pleasuring himself.”

Max burst into giggles, you flinched and quickly made big eyes at her. She clamped her palm over her mouth and shook her head, apologising with her eyes.

Ms Hewitt was less entertained by your story. She kept looking at you with the same expression and you felt like time had stopped.

“Ms Harmon, don’t you have the 3rd floor today?“ the woman asked Max sternly.

Your friend mumbled a disappointed ‘yes, ma’am’ and dragged herself out of the room.

When you two were left alone, Ms Hewitt’s face softened, and she asked you with her voice lowered. “Was he inappropriate with you, honey?”

“Oh, no-no-no! No!” you hurried to assure her, “he was embarrassed— said sorry. I apologised too and ran out. It was just an accident. Maybe he was wearing headphones or something,” you added fumbling with your fingers. “I’m sure he didn’t want it to happen.”

The supervisor was slowly nodding, listening to you.

For a few moments she was standing there in thought until she spoke.

“I suppose you should talk to him and apologise.”

Your jaw hit the floor.

“What? Talk to him? Why? I did nothing wrong!”

“Yes, probably, but if he feels like you did, he might go to the manager and tell him that you committed an invasion of privacy. And what does Mr Stewart always say? ‘A guest is always right.’ You’d be fired in a second.”

You shook your head.

“I don’t think he’ll complain.”

“Why?” Ms Hewitt’s brows shot up. “Has seeing his penis given you an understanding of his whole personality? We don’t know that person. I don’t want you to lose your job over an accident. If you want I’ll go with you.”

Now you were completely terrified.

“Oh no, no, it’ll be even more awkward.”

“Ok, but tell me how it goes,” the woman said on her way to the door, then stopped and added. “Do it today.”

When she left, you plopped on the bench and stared at your palms. How could you talk to him? After what you’d seen. After what you’d felt. You hoped that he was the man you thought him to be and prayed he wouldn’t make it hard for you. Hard, you murmured and hid your smiling face behind your hands.

You knocked on Joel Miller’s hotel door a few hours later, making sure that the sound was loud enough. Your throat dried up and you cursed under your breath, praying that you wouldn’t have to talk for too long.

To prepare for the conversation l, you had asked for the guest’s name at the reception and learnt that he had booked the room for a week.

Mr Miller opened the door fully clothed this time. He was wearing a white tee and a pair of grey sweatpants. You noticed that he swallowed loudly when he saw you and his expression showed

that he definitely recognised you.

“Mr Miller, can we talk? It’ll take a few minutes.”

“Oh, of course, come in.” He gave you a little smile and stepped aside, letting you enter. You walked into the room and he followed you.

He stopped a few steps away, giving you enough personal space, and you were grateful— it was easier to talk that way.

You dropped your eyes to the floor at his bare feet and said the speech you’d rehearsed a hundred times by now.

”I’d like to apologise for what happened earlier. I assure you, it won’t happen again. I’ll knock harder and announce myself louder next time.”

“Oh no, no, it was my fault,” he said hurriedly and you looked up at the man. He was rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks blushed. It seemed that he was embarrassed just like you and it made you feel better.

“I had an earbud in my right ear,” Mr Miller began explaining. “Noise cancelling.. damnit,” he mumbled under his breath. ”And my left ear is really bad…a work accident. That’s why I didn’t hear you.”

You were glad that your theory turned out to be right and sighed with relief.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It must’ve been horrible to see…damn, I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s ok.”

That ‘sweetheart’ made you tingle all over and you smiled to yourself, thinking that it wasn’t a horrible sight at all.

“It was an accident. I’m glad that you’re not angry at me, sir.”

“Angry? Of course, not. I’m embarrassed and very sorry for what you had to see and — wait, please.”

Mr Miller walked to the nightstand and bent over to grab something. Your eyes immediately slid from his broad muscular back, straining his tee, to his ass, looking absolutely sinful in those sweatpants. His body made you feel hot all over again. You quickly snapped your eyes back to his face when he turned to you.

"Oh no, Mr Miller, you don't have to—.”

You shook your head, having noticed a wallet in his hands.

"I insist.”

He walked up to you and pulled a few bills out. He stopped in front of you, leaned closer, took your hand and placed the cash into your palm.

"I'm really sorry."

You felt the warmth of his skin against yours, his smile was warm and timid, and it was a fleeting moment, but the time seemed to feeeze for you. You drowned in his honey eyes, his gruff voice reached the deepest parts of you and a scorching fire licked at your core. Your chest swelled with a feeling so overwhelming and strong that it almost knocked you off your feet.

Trying to hide the tornado inside you, you lowered your eyes and glanced at his hand, so big in comparison to yours. Suddenly, an image of Mr Miller's palm wrapped around his cock flashed in your mind. Your breath hitched, you pulled your hand away, squeaked "Thank you, sir” and rushed to the door on shaky legs.

“No, thank you for your work. And call me Joel. Please. If it’s ok with you,” he added, following you.

”Yes, of course, Mr M—- Joel.”

He smiled widely, when you called him that, and trying not to scream at how handsome he was, you opened the door.

“Oh,” you stopped and turned to him again. “I’ll ask them not to assign me to this floor anymore. So you don’t feel uncomfortable.”

“Hey, no, please.” Joel raised his hands and shook his head. “I don’t mind seeing you again. I— I’d love to, actually. And I promise to be clothed next time we meet.”

You laughed with him gleefully and said ‘goodbye’. Walking through the hallway with a giddy smile on your face, you thought that you’d love to see him again, too. Clothed or not.

You told Ms Hewitt about your conversation with Mr Miller and she seemed satisfied with the way you handled the situation.

All day you couldn’t stop thinking about Joel — he had been so charming, so apologetic and kind to you, that the awkwardness of the morning incident faded out of your heart, and all that remained was a bright, exciting feeling of meeting someone wonderful, someone you wished to get to know better.

Yet not only your heart and mind were occupied by your accidental acquaintance. You felt tingling between your legs every time you remembered Joel’s body, a scorching fire igniting your core.

***

When you came home in the evening and went to take a shower to wash the tiring day off, you found yourself fantasising about the guest in room 605. In your mind the rivulets of water turned into Joel’s strong arms, snaking around your body. You closed your eyes and imagined him standing behind you, naked and gorgeous, just like you’d seen him in the morning. The vision was bright and vivid behind your eyelids, and a needy moan escaped your parted lips.

You could finally quench your thirst. Your hand slid from your neck to your chest, down to your belly and when it reached your mound, you gently massaged your wet folds, envisioning that it was Joel touching you, his fingers were tracing your seam and then pushing inside. In your mind his pads began rubbing your hardened clit, he was the one twitching and pulling your pebbled nipples, and your needy whimpers and moans reverberated in the small bathroom. Joel praised you for your lustful serenade, whispering into your ear,

“Yes, sweetheart, need you to be loud for me. Show me how much you’re enjoying it.”

You were imagining his hard cock push and slide between your thighs, slippery and hot, hotter than the water running down your body.

“Ahhh, Joel,” you whined, as an upcoming climax was licking at your body. Edged by your memories of Joel during the day, it was craving a release. You heard Joel’s gruff ‘sweetheart’ in your ears and came hard, shaking on your trembling legs, holding onto the cold tile wall, trying not to collapse.

Before going to bed you thought of the handsome guest again, wishing to see him in your dreams, to talk to him, to touch him, but your mind didn’t give you that chance, and you fell into a dreamless sleep.

Without any effort on your part, you began seeing Joel often. When you two ran into each other in the hallway, he always gave you a warm smile and your heart skipped a beat every time you heard his ‘Mornin’, sweetheart.”

You were good at your job, but when you worked in Joel’s room, you tried to do everything perfectly. You wanted to make his stay as pleasant as possible and dreamed that he would think fondly of you. Every day you left him more shampoo and conditioner bottles than one man could need in a week and put a little flower on top of his fresh towels.

He seemingly felt your care because every day he would leave you a tip. It was nice but you never needed any money from him - the fact that he thought about you was enough.

You had never snooped around guests’ belongings, it was going against your principles, as well as a big no-no in any hotel, but whenever Joel left anything in the open - on the nightstand or on the desk, you meticulously studied ‘the thing’, not touching it but simply looking, eager to get any information about the man.

Once on his desk you saw a flyer that said ‘Small Business Contracting Expo’. He must be a contractor, you thought. You sighed dreamily, standing in the middle of his room with a turned on vacuum in hand. You found his job incredibly sexy.

But not all the discoveries were pleasant. One day you noticed something that upset you. It was a photo, lying on the nightstand - a Polaroid of him with a 6 or 7 year old girl. She was very pretty and had a beautiful smile. His smile.

‘He has a daughter. He’s married,’ you thought and your heart dropped. Of course. How could such a handsome and sweet man be single? That moment you shared… He was just friendly and your head was full of stupid fantasies.

All the rules and regulations forgotten, you plopped on his bed and tears flowed down your cheeks as you were staring at the photo of the happy family man.

The next day you were in the hallway, rummaging your cart for the right cleaning detergent, when you saw Joel exiting his room. He was wearing a leather jacket and a pair of dark blue jeans. At first, your eyes feasted on the sight of his strong back, straining the shiny leather, and you bit your lip, admiring his broad frame, but then you remembered the photo you’d seen on his nightstand - happy Joel with his little daughter. You hastily averted your eyes from the guest — you’d never be a homewrecker.

Not that you had any plans to win his heart but in your mind Joel had been single and it was fine to daydream about him, yet after seeing the Polaroid, your dreams had been crushed by reality like a glass butterfly by a hammer.

Avoiding Joel, you quickly crouched behind your cart, hoping he wouldn’t see you and his warm ‘sweetheart‘ wouldn’t cut your heart like a blade.

You were cleaning off a non-existent spot on your shoe when you heard a soft ’Hey there’ over your head.

“Are you hiding from me?” Joel chuckled as you sprung up on your feet, your heart racing in your chest.

“No,” you lied with a nervous giggle. “I was just looking for —ehm.” You shoved your hand into the cart and retreated the first thing you touched— a roll of toilet paper. “This. For the room.”

“Yeah, ok.” Joel was standing in front of you with his hands shoved in his jeans pocket, and his lopsided smile and a twinkle in his eye told you that he wasn’t buying it.

Then he raised his hands a little, palms towards you.

“I hope I don’t weird you out. You know? Because of… the way we met.”

Your breath hitched when he said that but you tried to keep your cool.

“No. I was really just looking for the paper.”

“Ok,” he mumbled, rubbing his scruffy beard. ”I’m heading out and I need help.”

“Yeah?” You were lost in beautiful eyes for a second and then your gaze slid down to his thick neck, his strong arms, covered by the leather. You locked eyes with him again - beautiful and deep they seemed to stare right into your soul, bringing you comfort and torment at the same time.

“What do you think?”

Fuck! You got completely mesmerized by Joel while he was talking and asked you for help. Help with what?! You had no damn idea.

“I’m sorry, could you say it again? I got lost in thought for a second.”

“Yeah, I see”, Joel smirked, a playful joy glinting in his irises, but kindly repeated himself.

“I need a gift for my daughter. I promised her a souvenir from the trip. Do you know any nice stores nearby? I don’t think she’d like a magnet from the hotel shop.”

“Yes, daughter,” you uttered, your face falling at the reminder of your discovery. Trying to hide sadness in your quiet voice, you asked,

“How old is she?”

“7.”

You thought for a few seconds and smiled when an idea came to you.

“There’s a store on the opposite side of the street. It’s next to a bank, you’ll see it right away. They sell these super cute handmade plushies. They’re adorable!”

Joel’s eyebrows shot up as he nodded.

“Yes! She loves plushies.”

“Oh, and they have all kinds of pretty stationery there too. Kids love that, right?” you asked with a little smile.

Joel took a step closer to you and put his warm palm over your hand, which was resting on the cart.

“Thank you so much, sweetheart. I’m sure I’ll be the world’s best dad when I get home.”

“I’m sure you already are,” you said quietly and dropped your head, your heart heavy.

“Are you ok?” You heard Joel’s lowered voice.

You looked up at him and lied.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

***

The next day you hoped not to see him at all. Your feelings were cruelly scratching at your chest, making your smile fake, your work day longer. Every minute felt like hours, and to make matters worse you started plucking at your own soul. You were single and lonely, saving up for college and dreaming of a career you probably would never achieve. Why would you want something if all you got at the end was disappointment?

Usually cleaning helped you to put your mind and heart at ease, to organize the thoughts swirling in your head like a bunch of stinging bees, but not that day. That day you wanted to dump all your hopes and dreams in one giant pile and set the useless trash on fire.

***

You decided to skip Joel’s room that day and was on your way to the neighbouring one when his head popped out of the door and he called for you.

”I thought I heard your cart. Sorry, can we talk, sweetheart?”

You smiled weakly at the pet name, and walked up to his room.

Joel motioned for you to step inside and you followed him. He was wearing a white Henley and jeans and you couldn’t help but ogle him. So stupid of you to think that a man like that was available. Especially for you.

Involuntarily you took a deep breath of his scent that was filling the room, piney and fresh with something so him. You felt at ease right away. He was almost a stranger and an emptiness inside was swallowing you bit by bit but his presence made you calm and relaxed.

“Look what I got for Sarah.”

Joel grabbed a toy sitting on his pillow - a cute fluffy bunny, wearing blue overalls, and brought it to you.

“I think she’ll like him.”

“I’m sure she will,” you assured him, petting the plushie, before giving it back to him. It was soft and pretty.

“And I bought her a bunch of pens and stickers and stuff. Thank you so much for your advice. Oh, and..”

Joel walked to the drawer and pulled something out.

“This one’s for you. A little thank you gift for your help.”

He was handing you a cute plushie cat, fluffy just like the bunny. “Had to hide it in case you’d come to my room.”

“You didn’t have to,” you said, accepting the present with a smile.

“I wanted to. Thought about you when I saw it.”

“Why?” you giggled.

“I don’t know. It’s beautiful and you’re—.” A slight blush appeared on Joel’s cheeks and he cleared his throat before adding, “Jus’ thought you might like it.”

“I love it.”

You didn’t lie. His gesture was so sweet that you had to take a deep breath, fighting an urge to cry.

“You’re a great father, Joel,” you said with a shaky voice, your eyes set on the toy, and then added,

“And I’m sure a wonderful husband.”

The words escaped your mouth before you could stop them. It seemed that the despair you’d been carrying in your soul made you bolder, more numb. It was easier to talk to him when all your feelings for the man lost a taste of sweet hope, leaving only bitterness.

“Thank you,” Joel uttered, placing the bunny back on the bed, ”but it’s just me and Sarah.”

Your eyes snapped back at him, and you stared at him in surprise. Your chest swelled with hope and joy. That man was single, but now it sounded almost impossible in your head. How could he be single?

Joel was completely oblivious to a whirlwind of thoughts inside your mind and kept talking,

“Well… there’s also my younger brother, Tommy. She’s staying with him now. Frankly, I’m not sure who’s looking after who,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

You laughed, maybe a little too loudly and too happily, but it was hard to keep your emotions contained.

“I'm sure they’ll be fine,” you assured him.

“Yeah. I call them every day and they haven’t burnt the house down yet — so — it’s great.”

You giggled and Joel seemed to notice your sudden mood uplift. His eyes narrowed as he asked,

“What about you? Husband, boyfriend?”

You bit your lower lip, hiding a smile that would be too revealing of your feelings - his interest flattered you greatly.

“No, none of those.”

Joel hummed and unlike you, didn’t hide his smile.

Your eyes connected and something electric appeared between you two. It started hard to breathe and the tingling warmth spread all over your body. Joel’s gaze slid from your eyes to your lips and you took a sharp breath, scared of the strength of your feelings. Panicking, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind,

“Where are you from?”

As if having forgotten where he was, Joel looked around the hotel room and cleared his throat before replying,

“Austin, Texas.”

You felt flustered by the moment you two had shared, your legs felt like they were made of cotton.

Joel noticed you shifting on your feet and offered you to sit down. You chose to take a chair at his desk, as sitting next to him on the bed could be inappropriate.

“Are you on business here?” you asked, trying not to think about the last time you had seen him on that bed.

“That’s right, ma’am,” Joel bowed his head with a smile and the gesture made your heart flutter. “Tommy and I are starting our own company,” he continued. “Contracting. Very small for now. There's a big expo here this week so we thought it’d be useful to meet people, do some networkin’.” Joel pinched the bridge of his nose and gruffed, “if that’s what it’s called. I’m still learning all the business lingo.”

In spite of the visible self-doubt, Joel’s eyes were glinting with excitement when he was talking about their plans. Then he leaned forward, placed his elbows on the knees, and asked,

“What about you? Do you like working here?”

His soft baritone was caressing your ears and sending heat to your core. His piercing eyes set on you weren’t helping either so you took a deep breath to calm down and replied,

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m saving up to go to a law school. Next year I hope.”

As you were sharing your plans with him, Joel was listening to you attentively, nodding and asking questions from time to time. It was easy to open up to him and the conversation flowed smoothly until you heard someone talk in the hallway and remembered that you were supposed to be working.

“Oh my God, Joel, I’m sorry I need to go.”

You got up, pressing the plushie cat close to your chest, and headed to the door.

“I hope you're not gonna get in trouble because of me,” Joel said, following you. “Some old man lured you into his room…”

You opened the door and walked to your cart, giggling, and then turned to him, smiling widely.

“You’re not old. And you can lure me anywhere anytime.”

Joel scratched his bearded chin, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips.

“Goodbye, Joel,” you purred, and feeling bold, gave him a playful wink.

“See you, sweetheart.”

You felt his eyes on your back and - hopefully - on your ass as you sauntered to another room as gracefully as you could, pushing your cart forward with the cutest plushie cat, sitting on top of it.

***

It was difficult for you to fall asleep that night. You were tossing and turning, hugging the kitty Joel had gifted you and thinking about his smile, his eyes, his hands, his body, his voice. You kept replaying your conversation over and over, your face aching after smiling so much. You were used to the constant tingling between your legs when Joel was on your mind and it wasn’t surprising - he was a handsome man, big and strong, but what stole your sleep that night was the feeling in your stomach. Something warm filled your belly, it was pushing up against your lungs, stealing your breaths away again and again. The sensation was so encapsulating, so pleasant and exciting that you had no doubt what it was. You fell in love with Joel. You fell in love with a guest.

***

The next day you were assigned to a different floor, but your head was full of Joel Miller. You were yawning because of the lack of sleep the previous night and yearning for the culprit of your insomnia. You wondered if he thought about you, too, if he liked you, if he wanted you. An idea to visit him popped into your head but you brushed it off, not wanting to impose and still feeling a little insecure. What if the spark you felt was one sided? What if it all was only in your head?

You were scheduled to work on the sixth floor the next day, so you were looking forward to seeing him soon.

That day everything went wrong. You overslept, probably because you managed to close your eyes only at 4 am, love-induced insomnia to blame again. On top of that, the traffic was horrible, so you missed the morning briefing.

Ms Hewitt looked at you sternly when you came to her office to get your assignments for the day but your genuine apologies and sorry puppy eyes softened her and she gave you all the info you needed.

“Oh, and it’s final cleaning for the 605.”

“What?!” Your heart plummeted into your stomach when you heard the number of the room. Joel’s room.

Trying but absolutely failing to hide your shock you squeaked,

“He—they‘re checking out today?”

“Yes,” Ms Hewitt's puzzled expression told you that the panic in your eyes was evident. She put her hand on your shoulder and asked,

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart

Sweetheart

Sweetheart

The pet name was ringing in your ears but it sounded like Joel. A scary thought flashed in your mind, ‘Will I ever hear it again?‘

”What time is it?” You exclaimed.

Ms Hewitt’s brows shot up, before she glanced at her watch.

“Ehm. 10:45.”

“Oh god! I need to go— to clean!”

You excused yourself hurriedly and ran to the elevator.

***

A minute later you were at room 605, knocking loudly. No reply. You didn’t stop, remembering Joel’s hearing problem, but there were no heavy footsteps of the man you so foolishly fell in love with. The realization pierced your heart - he was gone, he was gone forever.

Breaking all the rules you opened the door with your card and went inside.

“Joel!” you called, desperation loud in your voice.

He didn’t reply.

It felt empty, lifeless. Just another standard hotel room. The biggest sign that he had even been there was his scent, still lingering in the air.

You took a deep breath of him and tears welled up in your eyes. Your loud sob shuttered the deafening silence.

“Joel,” you mewled helplessly.

There was something on the bed. You walked there and saw a note with your name on it. You lifted it with shaky hands and started reading.

Sweetheart, I hope you’ll get this note. I couldn’t find you but I’d like to thank you for everything. Meeting you was a highlight of my trip. I hope all your dreams come true. And sorry again for the way we met. Joel

On the bed there was also a big tip and a bouquet of red roses.

Your chest swelled with a myriad of different emotions - it was nice of him to leave you a message and the flowers but it was a goodbye. A farewell forever.

A tear fell on the note in your hands. You wiped it off and smudged the writing, leaving a blue streak.

He wrote it not so long ago. What if you could still catch him?

You dropped the note and ran out of the room. Pressing the elevator button several times with a rushed hand, wiping your tears with the other, you were praying to all the gods to let you see him at least one more time, to hear his husky voice, to feel his warm eyes on you.

Joel—Joel—Joel

His name was booming in your head and your heart on your way downstairs.

On the first floor, not wanting to alarm the guests and other personnel, you walked fast to the reception.

“Birtie, hi, could you tell me when Joel Miller checked out? Please,” you asked the receptionist who furrowed his brows at you, having noticed your teary eyes.

You didn’t care about his concern, your gaze was glued to the entrance. Through the glass door you saw him.

Joel was standing outside, his back to you, his suitcase at his feet.

“Is everything ok?” You barely heard Bertie, your heart was making somersaults in your chest. He’s still here!

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but a wide smile wouldn’t leave your face as you hurried to your most precious guest.

***

“Joel?” you called softly, standing behind him.

He turned to you and his face lit up. All of a sudden he hugged you and you stopped breathing altogether. Feeling his body so close to yours made your head spin. To your dismay, Joel pulled away in a moment and took a step back.

“Fuck. Sorry. I thought you weren’t here today. But you’re and … I’m glad to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you, too,” you smiled at Joel, still feeling his strong arms around you. “I’ve just found your note and came here to say goodbye and— .”

“Yes?” Joel’s puppy eyes were darting between yours as you paused with your mouth open.

What now? Are you going to shake his hand and let him disappear from your life? The thought made you feel sick.

“There’s a problem. With your room. I’m afraid you have to go back up with me.”

Joel furrowed his brows, looking confused.

“What problem?”

Yeah, what problem?

“Ehm.. Can we talk in your room, sir?”

You added ’sir‘ to sound more formal so he wouldn’t think that you were making shit up.

“Of course. No problem. I have lots of time.”

Joel grabbed his suitcase and followed you inside.

You felt Bertie’s eyes on you as you were walking past the reception with the guest who had already checked out but you didn’t care.

When you stepped into the elevator, Joel turned to you.

“What’s wrong with the room, sweetheart? Tell me you didn’t get in trouble because of my note or the roses.”

“Oh, no,” you replied, nervously fumbling with your sleeve. “It’s— ehm—-it’s the hangers. Some are missing.”

“The hangers?”

“Yep.” You averted your eyes, feeling your heart in your throat. You could feel Joel’s confusion. Then you heard a low chuckle. Was he laughing at your stupid lie? You wouldn’t blame him.

“I didn’t steal the hangers, sweetheart,” he snickered, as you were walking to the room. “I promise.”

You felt bad about lying, but when you glanced at his smiley face, you couldn’t help but giggle along. Your excuse was ridiculous, but it was the first thing that came to your mind and, what was more important, it worked.

You opened the door and Joel and you entered the room. The room where you met. The room where you saw more than you were supposed to. Felt more than you were supposed to.

Joel left the suitcase at the door, followed you to the living area and stopped a few steps from you, as always giving you personal space. You didn’t want that space now. A few minutes ago you’d thought that you had lost him forever so you took a step closer to him, basking in the warmth his smile was giving you, his honey eyes mesmerizing you.

Joel followed your lead and inched closer, too. Now one tiny step was separating you two. He lowered his voice and asked, almost whispering,

“It’s not about the hangers, is it?”

You looked down at your hands and shook your head, nerves, excitement, love churning your stomach. You opened your mouth to talk but didn’t find any words. Why have you brought him here? What do you want? What do you want?

The answer to that question came like a flash. You were seeing it clearly then, fears and worries pushed into the corners of your mind, only your desire in the spotlight.

You took the final step towards him and pressed your lips to his. It was a soft little peck, timid and fleeting, but the feel of him flush to you, his warm lips, his heady scent drew you to kiss him again. Joel didn’t pull back but instead put his hands on your waist. His touch was gentle, careful but it set your whole body on fire. Feeling overwhelmed you broke the kiss and looked into his eyes.

You had just kissed Joel Miller. Your brain switched off completely as you were ogling his handsome face up close, his hot breath fanning your lips, the heat of his body seeping through your clothes.

“I wanted to say ‘goodbye’,” you lied, looking into Joel’s darkening eyes. You’d never want to say goodbye to that man.

“Do all the guests get a goodbye like that from you?” he asked as his lips curled into a smile.

You dropped your head and whispered ‘no’. Joel’s chest rose and fell heavily and his sigh tickled your nose.

“Am I special then?”

A shiver ran down your spine when you heard his question. You looked him right in the eye and your voice didn’t waver when you replied,

“Yes.”

Your boldness seemed to touch him deeply, his face lit up as if he’d just gotten the best compliment in his life. His reaction warmed your heart but your eyes still were puffy from the tears, the pain was still fresh in your chest.

“I was afraid you’d left forever. Thank you for the note but, frankly, I hoped you’d leave your number,” you said, sadness coating your words. Joel sighed again and his puppy eyes made your heart flutter.

“I did. In the first note. But then I threw it in the trash.”

“Why?” you mumbled, blinking at him in confusion.

Joel inched closer and took your face into his big warm hands.

“Because you’re young and beautiful,” he whispered, leaning down, and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

“You have your whole life ahead of you.” – he kissed the corner of your eye,

“I’m a single dad.” — He kissed your nose, your other cheek, until his lips grazed yours for a fleeting moment.

Then he pulled away, his eyes glossy.

“And I live in another state. I didn’t have a right to leave you my number.”

Joel was still holding your face and it was heavenly but his words squeezed your throat with a tight grip.

“Why are you kissing me then?” you murmured, searching for the answer in his sparkling eyes.

Joel sighed again and croaked,

“’cause I can’t help it.”

That was when he kissed you. If your first kiss was like a soft breeze, a gentle caress to the skin, his was like an ocean, heady, overwhelming, you both drowning in it in seconds.

Joel’s arms bound you to him, your bodies flush against each other, and when he licked into your mouth, the taste of him made you dizzy, the ache between your legs grew and you bucked your hips against his thigh.

Joel growled, feeling your need, and your wet arousal leaked into your panties when you heard that he craved you, too. You broke the kiss and panted,

“When’s your flight?”

“In six hours.” Joel’s blown out eyes were darting between yours as he offered, “Can I spend this time with you?”

“Yes,” you replied immediately, having never been more sure about anything in your life.

Joel was beaming at you, his grin wide and happy. His hands were running up and down your arms as he mused,

“We can have a walk. Or we can stay here. What do you prefer?”

You dropped your head, contemplating your answer, and in a second you knew exactly what you wanted to do. You had about three hours to spend with the man of your dreams and you decided to use them to the fullest. There was no time to be shy.

“Can we stay here?” you asked quietly and Joel eagerly nodded.

“Yeah, sure, sweetheart. I’ll call the reception, see if I can have this room for today. Ok?”

“Yes! If it’s not booked, it shouldn't be a problem.”

Your belly was full of butterflies, your core was on fire, and it was hard to think straight, but suddenly you remembered that you had work to do.

While Joel was talking to Bertie, you pulled your phone out of your dress pocket and quickly texted Max.

Need to leave. Cover for me pls. I’ll explain later.

She sent you back an ‘ok’ just as Joel hung up.

Judging by his wide smile, the room was available.

“We can stay here.” He took your hand in his and you whispered a breathy ‘good’, already under the spell of his dark eyes.

He pulled you into his embrace and kissed you. His lips were moving gently against yours until they travelled lower to your neck, his moustache and beard deliciously tickling your skin. The sensation was intoxicating, your whole body was buzzing, craving him, your heart was beating fast.

You couldn’t wait any longer, your poor pussy was crying and begging for him, so you took his hand and led him to the bed.

“Thank you for the roses,” you purred, looking at the flowers, their crimson colour a bright contrast to the whiteness of the sheets. “They’re very beautiful.”

Joel barely glanced at the bouquet, he had eyes only for you.

“You’re beautiful, baby.”

***

A few kisses later you were making out, sitting on the edge of the bed, you’re on Joel’s lap, straddling his thighs, your arms wrapped around his thick neck. Joel’s hand was gently cupping the back of your head, the other, pressed to your lower back, keeping you close. You were softly whimpering into his mouth, your tongues tangled in a passionate dance.

“Ahh, Joel,” you moaned and began grinding your burning pussy against the big bulge in his jeans. Timidly at first, but the growing desire gave you courage to take what you wanted.

“I’m here,” Joel breathed out. “My needy girl.”

He broke the kiss and dropped his head down to watch your hips move, the hem of your uniform dress inching higher, exposing more and more of your tights-covered thighs.

“I need you too, sweetheart,” he confessed but then his hands left your hips and flew up to your face. He searched for your eyes and asked,

“You sure you want this? We can just kiss, baby. You don’t have to—“

“No, please, I want you,” you panted, surprising even yourself. You weren’t hiding your feelings anymore, you were begging him to give you more, to put down the fire burning you on the inside.

“Ok,” he nodded, his lips in a lopsided smile. “I needed to make sure.”

“I’ve never done this,” you mumbled, nervously chewing your lower lip. “Never been with a guest— like this.”

Joel brought his hand to your mouth and glided his thumb over your lip to stop you from hurting yourself.

“Me too, sweetheart. Never got a hotel room to —. He paused and you noticed a light blush painting his cheeks. Joel ran his hands down your neck and traced your neckline with his knuckles, lightly grazing your skin and sending chills down your spine.

“Can I undress you, baby?”

His voice was low and raspy, gorgeous and alluring, and you swallowed a moan when you heard his question. You replied with a sultry ‘yes’ and got off his lap.

Joel’s hands were gentle and slow. Standing behind you he unzipped your dress on your back, pulled it off your shoulders and helped you to step out of it. He slid the tights down and off your legs.

His fingers were gliding up and down your arms, his breath fanning your shoulder before he pressed his lips to the crease of your neck. You moaned, melting in his arms, turning into a puddle when his hand slid down your neck to your chest. You looked down and just then remembered what you were wearing that day- a simple flowery bra and unmatching black panties.

“Shit—,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating up. “Wish I was wearing something sexy. Lace or something…”

Your voice was small, your head downcast. Joel walked around you, took your chin between his fingers and gently lifted your face. A pair of dark-as-night eyes met you, there was a bright fire in them, a desire that echoed deeply in your own body.

”I don’t want ‘lacy’. I want you.”

He cupped your covered breast with his big hand and began kneading it. Even through the padding the sensation sent lightning of pleasure to your core, and you moaned shamelessly watching him caress your other breast.

Then his hands snaked behind you.

“Can I…?”

You uttered a needy ‘yeah’ and Joel unclasped your bra, letting it fall on the floor.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, looking at your naked breasts, and you smiled, taking it as a compliment. ”You’re gorgeous.”

You were standing in front of him topless while he was still dressed. It was turning you on but you couldn’t wait to see him naked. Again.

“My turn,” you purred and grabbed the hem of his tee. You took it off him and ogled his golden skin, his toned shoulders, his muscular arms and a happy train on his soft tummy. Your hand impatiently flew to feel his broad chest, but having dreamed of it all week, you feared that he would disappear like a mirage.

“Joel,” you whispered his name like a spell, binding him to you at that moment, making it real in your mind, you and him there, exposed to each other, needing each other desperately, ready to dive into something beautiful and exciting.

You pressed your thighs together and a lustful shiver ran down your spine.

“C’mere, baby.” Joel probably thought that you were cold and caged you in his warm embrace. Your nose found its home in the crease of his neck, your heart close to his heart, your arms around his torso. It felt like his body was meant for you- to bring you comfort, to warm you up, to caress you, to make love to you.

You kissed his collar bone and Joel pressed his lips to the top of your head.

You two stood like that for a few moments, simply relishing the feel of each other's skin, sharing warmth of your bodies.

Then Joel’s hand slowly slithered down your back, covering your skin with a new set of goosebumps, and cupped your asscheek. He squeezed it gently and you moaned.

“Get on the bed, baby.”

He knew what you wanted, there was no uncertainty in his words, it sounded like a command, and you were happy to follow it.

You put the roses on the nightstand and climbed onto the soft bed. Your back against the pillows, you were watching Joel discard his jeans.

When he was only in his boxers, your jaw involuntarily dropped at the sight of his huge bulge. Apparently your memory wasn’t kind to him, because in your mind his cock was smaller. In reality he was hung like a god, and as handsome as one. A part of you got scared that he would split you in two, but the heady mixture of desire and love erased any doubts in your heart and head. You desperately needed him. Starved to have him inside you.

Joel lay down next to you and dived into your arms right away. As you were kissing, his hands were exploring your body, caressing your soft skin, gently squeezing your breasts, twitching your hardened nipples. You were hungrily feeling him too— with a soft drag of your nails down his arms and his back, with your fingers running through his silky curls. Your legs intertwined, you began rubbing your covered pussy against his hairy thigh.

“Joel— please,” you begged and with a fast hand he pulled your panties down. Now he could see all of you and you’d have probably got shy, but Joel’s eyes full of hunger and need, gave you the courage to throw your legs apart, to invite him to the most sacred place of your body.

”Jesus, sweetheart, you’re so wet,” Joel growled as his fingers were tracing your slicked up seam before pushing inside. With the pads of his two digits he drew a circle around your clit and you almost came, shuddering against the crispy sheets and his body. Joel noticed your reaction.

“Been needing it for some time, baby?”

“Yes, Joel, since the moment I saw you. Here, on this bed.”

You paused, scared that the memory of the incident would embarrass him, but Joel smirked, brought his lips to your ear and whispered,

“Did you like what you saw?”

You opened your mouth to reply but Joel made you gasp, when he slowly inserted his middle finger into your soft hole. He began thrusting it in and out, and you quickly turned into a moaning, dripping mess.

“I take it as a ’yes’”. His voice was strained with lust as his lips brushed against your cheek. “Did you think about me after that? About my hard cock?”

His soft husky voice, his words, his finger caressing something delicious inside you - everything at once was overwhelming and your eyes fluttered shut, your mind begging for any respite.

“Yeah, Joel, so— so much,” you slurred, unable to speak clearly.

“That’s my girl.”

Joel lightly nibbled on your earlobe, a satisfied growl rumbling in his chest, and then added another finger to penetrate your sopping heat.

Your moan was loud and shameless and Joel echoed you with a groan. His lips drew a path from your cheek, down your neck and soon he kissed your pebbled nipple. Your hand flew to his curls, legs opened up wider and your eyes rolled back, when he began sucking on your bud, while his fingers were opening your cunt up for his thick cock. Joel hummed at the taste of your skin and his low grunts made your pussy drool more around his digits. He parted from your tit and asked, breathing heavily with arousal,

“Tell me what you wanted me to do to you. When you thought about me, baby.”

“Wanted you —to fuck me.”

“Oh, baby. I thought about you, too. Fuck.. non stop, all these days.”

“Really?“ You panted, searching for his eyes.

“Yes, sweetheart. I thought— what if you’d stayed— would you wanna watch me?”

You bit your lip and purred,

“I would.”

Joel licked his smiling lips, his eyes blown out, and gave you a wink before saying,

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”.

Carefully, so as not to hurt your pussy with his fingers, he sat up and kneeled next to you on the bed, then using his free hand, the hand that wasn’t fucking you, he pulled down his boxers and let his stiff cock spring free. It was as gorgeous as you remembered, thick and long, curved up at the top, glistening in the sunlight, leaking rivers of precum.

“Now you can watch, sweetheart,” Joel groaned, wrapping his palm around his member with a sigh and beginning to jerk it.

You were watching him fuck his fist, while his fingers were fingering your wet pussy, until your plea interrupted your moaning.

“Can I do it? Please.”

“Yes, baby.”

Joel let go off his cock and your little hand immediately replaced his. You could barely circle your fingers around his girth but you applied all of yourself and began pumping his fat cock. Joel’s grunts were making your head spin. His pleasure was giving yours an ecstatic, exquisite, divine taste. You were revelling in the feeling of bringing ecstasy to him, your hand pulling up and down the soft skin stretched over the hot steel of his cock.

“Joel…what else did you think about? Tell me,” you moaned, tilting your hips up to give him more access to your crying pussy. His fingers were curling inside you and an upcoming climax overshadowed your shiness.

”Everyday I dreamed about pulling you close and kissing you, baby.”

“Just kissing?” you teased.

“Hngg, ‘course not. Wanted to tear your cute dress off, throw you on the bed and lick your little pussy.”

“Oh my god, Joel.”

“Then fuck you on every surface in here.”

His confession drew a needy whine out of your mouth and you began squeezing his fingers with your pulsating cunt. A hard orgasm was shaking your body, your pussy bursting with pleasure and wetness against his hand. You stopped jerking Joel off and just held his cock in your hand, too focused on the waves of euphoria rippling through you.

“Yeah, like that, baby,” Joel growled, watching you explode on his fingers. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you. So sweet and beautiful. I’d give anything to bounce you on my cock, to kiss your pretty tits.”

His mouth latched onto your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple, his fingers were still massaging your g-spot, prolonging your orgasm.

When you relaxed and your hand fell off his cock onto the bed, Joel carefully pulled his drenched fingers out of your stretched hole.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he whispered, taking you in his arms, and kissed you again, slowly and sensually, letting you rest in the warm ocean of his caress.

You were in heaven. Basking in the afterglow of the climax, relishing Joel’s embrace and his soft kisses, you couldn’t be happier.

He pulled away and looked into your hazy eyes.

“You ok?”

“Yes,” you murmured with a smile, tracing his handsome features with your gaze, mesmerized by him once again. Then you averted your eyes and bit your lip.

“What is it, baby?” Joel furrowed his brows and you heard a trace of worry in his tone.

You cupped his cheek and he melted against your touch.

“I want more, Joel. I need you inside me.”

Joel’s body shuddered at your words, his cock twitched, and you had no doubt that he desperately wanted it, too.

“I’ll give you anything you want, sweetheart. But— I don’t have condoms. Do you?”

You shook your head and hid your face in his neck, too shy to look at him, as you whispered.

“Can we do it without them? I’m clean, I promise.”

Joel stroked your head and kissed your temple.

“Me too, I haven’t had—, " he cleared his throat and continued, “had anyone for a while.”

“Ok.” You smiled, raising your eyes at him.

“Ok,” he echoed you.

***

You sat up and carefully straddled Joel’s thick thighs. His cock was engorged, crying and ready for you. But were you ready for it?

You swallowed loudly, fear noticeable in your expression, and Joel rubbed your thighs with his palms.

“We’ll go slowly, sweetheart. And.. if you’re not ready — I can kiss your pretty pussy instead.”

His words made you gush more, your head spun at the image of Joel’s lips on your cunt, but you shook your head with determination.

“No. I want you— want you to bounce me on your cock,” you quoted him with a timid smile and Joel half chuckled-half groaned. His cock twitched and you saw a drop of prefuck juice bead on the reddish slit.

“Baby, if you keep talking like this… I’m afraid I’ll come too soon.“

You playfully bit your lower lip, his words giving you much needed confidence. You felt desired, sexy and beautiful.

You got up on your knees and moved forward until you were hovering over his cock. It brushed against your folds and you impatiently gripped it at the base and glided his tip over your seam, before teasing your puffy clit with the bulbous head.

Your lustful whimper rang loudly in the room, fusing with Joel’s moan. Your palm planted on his hairy chest, you slid his tip down, and when it notched the source of your wetness, you began lowering your hips, slowly sinking on it. The sounds you both were making seemed like an epitome of pleasure, a beautiful melody of two bodies becoming one. They weren’t lewd, they were pure and sincere.

You seemed to lose an ability to talk or think, your whole being was overtaken by the feeling of Joel filling your core. The stretch sent shivers down your spine, but the dull pain got overshadowed by the bliss in your body. Joel’s palm was gripping your hip when the other slid up from your lower belly to your sternum, then to your chest until he surely could feel your heart, beating loudly in unison with your pussy, that was hungrily swallowing his length.

”Oh, baby, oh, yes,” was everything that Joel could muster when you took all of him. His eyes were dark with desire but the affection and warmth within them pulled you to him. You leaned down, lay down on his chest, uniting your heartbeats, and your lips met. Your eager tongues tangled with passion, your fingers ran through his curls, damp with sweat, his palms were exploring your body.

When Joel squeezed your asscheeks and gently lifted your hips up, you mewled, realizing what he wanted. Making out with him, you began slowly moving your hips up and down, your walls massaging his shaft, your mouth drinking his growls, that inevitably turned into moans. You smiled against his lips, happy to be giving Joel so much pleasure, but also getting an immense amount of it as well.

No one had ever made you feel so sexy in your life and the elation in your heart gave you the courage to break the kiss and sit up proudly on Joel’s cock, letting him see all of you again. With his mouth slightly open Joel looked completely drunk on you. His gaze slid over your body and he panted,

”Look at you, baby. Wish you could ride me like that every day till I die.”

You smiled and took his hand, that was kneading your breast, and kissed his palm. The next moment Joel sat up and you moaned at the position shift, feeling his cock even deeper inside you like that. He cupped the back of your head, and holding you close, kissed you hard. Your legs wrapped around his hips and you stilled, pierced by his member, melting in his arms.

His cock was thumping in your heat, your pussy was crying more and more around it, begging for a release.

“Joel,” you whined and, as if having read your mind, he grabbed your asscheeks in his strong hands and started lifting you up and down on his cock, moving your body easily, bringing you both closer to your peaks.

Your sensitive clit was deliciously rubbing against Joel’s hairy lower belly and soon you felt heat rise in your tightening core and your pussy started fluttering around Joel’s length.

“I’m coming,” you mewled and dug your nails into his broad shoulders, grounding yourself to him.

“That’s my girl,” Joel praised you, his eyes focused on your face, and then groaned through his teeth,

“Gonna come, too. Where d’you want me, baby?”

“Inside, please,” you begged, still trembling with the second orgasm.

“Yeah?” Joel grunted, “wanna be full of my hot cum?”

“Yes—yes—yes,” you chanted, bouncing on his cock, prolonging your pleasure.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I want it, too. Want your pussy wet with me for days.”

Pushed over the edge by the image and your walls gripping his member, Joel roared and began filling you up. You greedily milked him of every drop, pressing your body to his, burying your nose in his neck, relishing the scent of his heated skin.

Joel was jerking with every squirt of his load, holding you so tight that it was hard to breathe, but you’d have rather suffocated than left his arms at that moment.

***

“Thank you,” Joel murmured as you two were lying covered by the white sheets, face to face. Your legs were tangled, arms wrapped around each other, your nose against his neck. When you heard his soft voice, you raised your eyes at him.

“What for?”

“For being here with me. For letting me kiss you, touch you…”

His fingers glided over your arm and your skin erupted with goosebumps.

“You’ve done more than touching, sir,” you smirked and he groaned, pushing you over and pinning you to the bed with his body.

”Keep calling me ‘sir‘ and I’ll do it all again.“

“Promise?” you purred, feeling helpless, caged between the bed and his broad torso and your clit twitched again.

“Bad girl.”

Joel’s words reignited fire in your belly, but you felt like behind the playful banter there was something else that he wanted to tell you.

You cupped his cheek, your eyes darting between his, and whispered,

“I’m happy to be here with you.”

Joel sighed with a smile and leaned in to kiss you gently. Then he pressed his forehead to yours, his hot breath kissing your lips.

“What I wrote— in the note. You being the highlight of my trip— I meant it.”

A happy smile shone on your face, when you heard sincerity in his voice, warmth spreading inside your body. Joel lay down next to you and continued, his arm wrapped around your waist.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you all these days— wanted you the moment I saw you but that’s not all. You’ve been so kind to me. So sweet. I haven’t felt cared for like that in a long time.”

“I was simply doing my job,” you uttered, drawing patterns on his hairy forearm.

“No, I mean, yes, but — every time I thought of you, I felt something — “

He paused, searching for words. You felt emotions in his voice and you took his hand and pressed it to your lips before whispering,

“I know, Joel. I felt it too.”

”Oh, baby,” Joel pulled you into his chest and you pecked his lips before your eyes locked and you said everything to each other without words, your hearts speaking for you. His warm gaze glossed over and your vision got blurry with your own feelings.

“Joel,” you mumbled, opening your eyes. You woke up from a wonderful dream, where you fell for a handsome guest, who later kissed you, made you see the brightest stars with his lips, his fingers and his cock, and then you fell asleep, cuddling with him.

Fortunately, it wasn’t a dream.

“I’m right here,“ you heard a soft baritone of the man next to you. You wrapped your arms around Joel and he gave you a gentle kiss.

“Had a bad dream, sweetheart?”

A tsunami of emotions flooded your heart - excitement, affection, joy stole your breath away. He was really there. He was really yours. At least for now.

“No,” you croaked, sleep heavy in your voice. “It was the best dream.” You crashed your lips against his, hunger for his caress waking up with you, but a sudden memory flashed in your mind - you had been given just a few hours to be together.

“How long have I been asleep?” Panic was loud in your voice.

“About an hour.”

“Oh no! You should’ve woken me up. We don’t have much time.”

Joel hugged you tightly.

“Shh, we have time, baby. You were sleeping like a little kitten next to me. I couldn’t miss the opportunity to stare at you like a creep.” You two laughed, your nerves seeping you out of your heart.

Joel kissed you and then began leaving open-mouth kisses over your neck, your exposed breasts and a few moments later you were dripping your juices onto the white sheets while he was licking and sucking on your sensitive nipples.

“Sweet thing,” he mumbled against your tits. “Can I have a real treat now?”

“What?” you slurred, already drunk on him.

“You pussy, baby, can I taste her?”

“Oh,” you moaned and nodded with a timid smile.

You had never been eaten out that well before. Joel’s hands were pinning your hips to the bed, holding you open for him as he was feasting on your blooming flower, his hot tongue lapping at your folds and your clit tirelessly. His mouth was gentle but he gave you enough pressure to make your pussy pulsate and explode on his tongue in a few minutes.

You were practically crying with euphoria when he climbed up the bed to let you lick your own nectar off his lips.

***

The rest of the time together you spent naked in bed, talking, laughing, eating the food you ordered to the room, kissing and cuddling. At the back of your mind you kept thinking about how lucky you were - to have met someone you clicked with spiritually, sexually and emotionally. There was no doubt in your heart that Joel was your person and he looked at you like you were his.

Inevitably the precious time ran out and Joel needed to leave for the airport. It took everything from you not to burst into tears, when you imagined saying ’goodbye’ to him, but the day you had shared, the pleasure he had given you, eased the pain in your soul.

When you two were talking and sharing your past, Joel kept mentioning your future. Your future together. He promised to introduce you to Tommy and Sarah, to take you to his favourite places in Austin, and in your dreams you saw yourself forever by his side, getting to hug and kiss him every single day for the rest of your life. It seemed like the most amazing fairy tale, and although you knew by now that life was far from perfect, his enamoured eyes, his gentle hands, his kind words gave you strength to let him go, because your heart was full of hope.

***

You covertly changed out of your uniform in the staff room and sneaked out of the hotel to take Joel to the airport in your car.

When you two arrived, you couldn’t hold your tears back anymore. Joel gently wiped them away with his thumbs but his own eyes were glossy and reddish.

“I’ll call you as soon as I land, sweetheart,” he promised, holding your face in his warm hands, then wrapped his arms around you and kissed you like no one else before, passionately, sensually, claiming you as his, and you stored the memory of his body against yours deep inside your mind.

Many phone and video calls later

The next time you saw Joel again, not on the screen of your phone or your laptop, not in your dreams or fantasies, but in person, in real life, was at the airport as well. Now in Texas.

You spotted Joel first. His honey eyes were searching for you in a sea of people, his expression serious and concentrated. You wanted to run and kiss that deep crease between his brows, wanted to drop your bags and scream with happiness, but then you saw what he had in his hands and your eyes welled up with tears.

He was holding a sign with your name on it. It was sweet, but what made you cry were glittery hearts and flowers, decorating it. Joel definitely wasn’t the type to use glitter and draw pretty hearts and you realized right away. that they were made by Sarah’s hand.

***

Joel introduced you to Sarah a week after he’d flown back to Austin. You fell in love with his daughter right away, she was a lively and funny girl, excellent at trolling her dad, the talent of hers which always made you giggle.

Quickly she became a usual participant of your daily video calls with Joel. You never minded it, falling deeper in love with Joel, when you witnessed what a great father he was. Sarah often told you about her day, asked about yours, and when she shared only with you who she liked at school, you were touched by her trust. Soon you three had breakfasts and dinners together, Joel and Sarah joining you on the screen of your laptop, and it felt like you were a little family.

At night when Sarah was asleep in her bedroom, Joel and you had other types of calls. You quickly realized that the man was a menace. He loved making you needy and desperate with his husky voice whispering filth into your ear. He would tell you in great detail how exactly he would fuck you if he was there in your bedroom. Like a good girl you would be spread for him on the bed, your legs open widely, your fingers thrusting in and out of your sopping hole. You whispered his name again and again, your hazy eyes glued to the screen, where Joel was stroking himself, deep in the pit of desire just like you.

You lost count how many times he came watching you fuck yourself, how many times you unraveled in front of his hungry eyes. It was enough for you two. For the time being.

But your feelings grew and soon you felt like you were suffocating without being able to touch him, kiss him. Joel tentatively asked if you wanted to visit them in Austin and you happily agreed. One night you two were planning your trip, when Joel admitted. that he didn’t want you just to visit.

“Sweetheart... what if we lived together?”

“It would be amazing,” you sighed, smiling at him through your phone screen.

“So why don’t we?”

You were staring at him in disbelief for a few seconds, your heart in your throat, before you asked,

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Joel replied and added, ”I love you, baby.”

His watery eyes told you that he wasn’t joking.

“I love you, too, Joel. So much,” you mumbled, already sobbing with happy tears.

***

It took you a month to quit your housekeeping job, sell the things you didn’t need anymore, pack the stuff you did, say ‘goodbye’ to your friends and family and take a big step towards your future. Future with the man you loved, the man who loved you.

***

Not being able to contain your excitement any longer, you dropped your baggage and ran to Joel, waiting for you at the airport. You were quietly squealing, trying not to alert the people around you, but when Joel noticed you and his face lit up with a widest grin, you finally screamed. He opened his big arms to you and you dived into his warm embrace. Your lips met in a fiery, long awaited kiss, and you didn’t care that people were staring at you two, making out like two horny teenagers, holding each other close. Joel was yours and you were his. Once your guest, now he was your home.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic! Your feedback means the world💞

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40 @meetmeatyourworst @callmebyyournick-name

People who were interested in the wip posts (no pressure to read, bbs) @604to647 @tateypots @thundermartini @sawymredfox

[yailtsv]

Rivals - j.w

📜 Syn: you and juju were best friends....and then you committed to ucla

౨ৎ— warnings: juju pulling a diana ;)

౨ৎ— notes: i loved writing this lmao

౨ৎ— word count: 1.1k

౨ৎ— pair: juju watkins x ucla!reader

if someone told younger you that you and juju weren’t friends anymore, you would laugh in their face and tell them that jujus stuck with you forever.

but now your in your sophomore year of college being no contact with juju. so i guess the “jujus stuck with you forever”…didn’t last forever

—all because of a college decision too

you guys had offer’s coming in since freshman year of high school, but you guys obviously weren’t going to choose until senior year - you guys wanted to do it together, even if you were going to separate schools.

juju, she knew she wanted to stay in california, so that limited down her options by a bunch. you, on the other hand, had no idea what you wanted to do. you didn’t have a dream like juju with usc, well….you did, ucla, but juju would never allow that in your friendship. she HATES ucla.

so, you took all the school tours. you toured uconn, lsu, south carolina, texas, tennessee, you name it, you practically toured every school with a good women’s basketball program, but none of them stuck out to when you toured ucla privately.

it’s in california #1 so you would be close to all your family still, the campus was beautiful, the sun - warm, the blue and yellow together…yeah. you were in love with ucla, and have been.

you just never told juju since she’s been so vocal about her hatred towards that school.

but you knew you had to choose soon, decision day was just around the corner.

you over worked yourself your whole senior year, trying to find a school good for your major that also has a good basketball program, while also having to ignore your acceptance letter from your dream school.

your mom eventually intervened, saying “follow your dreams, do what’s best for YOU, not what’s best for juju. you guys will work this out i promise, but go to ucla & follow your dreams. you’ll regret it if you don’t go to your dream college all because your best friend seems to hate the school.”

and that’s how you decided to go to ucla. when decision day came around, that was the day juju found out. she thought you were committing to uconn seeing as you were talking about the program a lot but, you were wearing a ucla sweatshirt.

juju felt heartbroken and betrayed, 1. you didn’t tell her about that, when you guys tell each other everything. 2. ucla? the school she hates most?

that day you guys had a fight. in all of the years of being friends with her, of course you had meaningless arguments through the years, but this one wasn’t as meaningless.

juju took your college decision to heart, and she said hurtful things during the argument. that was the end of your life long friendship.

so as you can imagine, today is probably gonna be the worst day ever. being on the ucla women’s basketball team means, you have to play against usc. you have to play against her.

and today is the away game. todays the day ucla goes to usc. what’s worse, sharing a court with her again or having to share her court with all of her fans?

it’s now halftime, and the game is going exactly how you expected it to go but also 10x worse.

juju is putting up one hell of a fight, trying to prove that she’s better, that usc is better…but you’ve been fighting right back.

you’ve also been stuck to be the one guarding her as your coach said “you know her game better than any of us.” eugh.

this whole game as been her touching you when she doesn’t have to, whispering teasing words in your ear to make you mad, her showing off that she’s better than you

but you’ve also been talking trash back to her, and teasing her.

everyone on the court can feel the tension between you two, i mean they already had to pull you two apart once. everyone off the court could honestly probably feel the tension too.

with the 3rd quarter starting, you and juju were both back on the court, your coaches taking both of you guys out of “timeout”

…juju should have stayed in timeout though. she’s being a menace right now. she keeps grabbing onto you and pulling you, as a way of guarding i guess.

—but she’s also trash talking with that said trash talking only getting worse every time you ignore her.

“would you shut up? do you know how to do that?” you snap back to juju in response to something she whispered to you, before you steal the ball from her—running down the court and getting a lay up before she can catch up “who’s quiet now?”

getting juju worked up in a game is bad…but also kinda funny, cause you never know what she’s gonna do in response. she could play “bad cop” and just get mad and have to sit on the bench OR she could just do something that would be hilarious to her, or go viral…

juju chose the latter.

you both were standing in the middle of the court during the fourth quarter. you were arguing over a foul that should have been called…jujus playing dirty with you and has been getting away with it this whole game.

you and juju are both super heated, and before any teammates or refs could step in between you guys, she leaned down and kissed you…making you shut up.

immediately after, a ref is pushing you guys away from each other while juju just smirks - feeling accomplished.

everyone was recording the argument not knowing where it would lead to…and they all got the kiss on film.

so as you can imagine….you and juju are now trending and the clips are going viral.

after the game, you and your team just left. your team lost and you guys didn’t want to stay in a rival territory. even if the fan’s support both teams —you guys weren’t really in the mood to give autographs or take pictures after that loss.

juju was trying to talk to you before you left, but you just kept walking. why should you give her a minute of your time? she hurt you.

🔖 @authentic-girl03 @evry1luvzzae @bethsleftnip @rebecca-woso @shikaizer @hellokittyfeenie @niya500 @ch-3-rry

[sturniololuvz]

Hi, I’m sorry if this is too much but can you write about how the triplets sister is struggling with sh and they eventually find out about it (I’m struggling with it right now, sorry to vent on u) only if your okay with it🫶🏼

aw i’m so sorry , i hope you get better soon, please talk to someone!!

TW: mentions of sh .

⸻ “The Pieces They Missed”

At first, it was just little things.

Chris noticed she stopped wearing short sleeves, even when it was hot out.

Matt picked up on how often she stayed in her room — too quiet for too long.

And Nick… Nick was the one who saw the bandaids in the bathroom trash. A lot of them. Too many for someone who never mentioned being hurt.

But none of them said anything.

Not because they didn’t care — but because they didn’t want to believe it.

Because this was their little sister.

The one who used to fall asleep on the couch during movie nights. The one who’d write dumb jokes in their group chat at 2 a.m. The one they promised — promised — to protect.

And they’d missed it.

⸻

It was Matt who finally asked.

She was curled on the couch in her hoodie, arms tucked tightly in, barely speaking.

He sat down beside her and didn’t try to make it casual.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded without looking up.

“You don’t have to lie.”

That made her eyes flick toward him, and for a moment — just a moment — her mask cracked.

“Matt,” she said quietly. “Please don’t.”

He hesitated. Then reached out, gently taking her sleeve.

She flinched. But didn’t stop him.

He pushed the fabric up just enough to see the edge of fading scars. Some fresher than others.

Matt’s breath hitched.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” he whispered.

Tears pooled in her eyes instantly.

“Because I didn’t want to be a burden,” she choked. “Because I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

Footsteps rushed into the room — Nick, followed by Chris, both pale and panicked after Matt’s text.

When they saw her curled up and crying, Matt’s hand still lightly on her sleeve, they stopped cold.

She tried to pull away. Tried to hide again.

But Chris crossed the room in seconds and wrapped her in a hug so tight she nearly collapsed.

“You’re never a burden,” he said into her hair. “Do you hear me? Never.”

Nick knelt in front of her, eyes wet. “We should’ve seen it. I’m so sorry. But we’re here now. And we’re not going anywhere.”

She broke.

All the hiding, the guilt, the weight — it poured out of her in sobs she couldn’t hold back.

And they stayed.

All three of them, on the floor of the living room, wrapped around their little sister like armor.

Not fixing. Not rushing. Just being there.

Because sometimes, the first step to healing is finally being seen.

⸻

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

What happens during their(yes their) pregnancy announcement...part 1 of????

Cw: pregnancy, vomiting

Based off this series of posts.

A/N: Follow up crack/not for the original cracks :V

Dunno if I will make more but I just wanted to write these.

-------

Diluc

When Diluc announces one day to his staff at the Dawn Winery that he is with child they automatically assume that you've finally decided to have children and congratulate you both. But when someone asks who will be the one carrying and Diluc begins to flush muttering out a strained "Me." all hell breaks loose.

Adelinde starts fussing over him while the rest panic wondering if he's drunk the very alcohol he makes and what would cause him to do that. It takes you cheerfully explaining that through divine intervention Diluc is now carrying your child. Now you said that in an effort to calm them which is what should have happened if it weren't for it doing the exact opposite mostly because they know Diluc doesn't exactly lie about these sorts of things.

Moco and Hillie catch a fainted Elzer, while the rest of the staff flounder and lose their minds over the entire situation. Diluc hides his face in his hands sitting on the couch at Adelinde's insistence that he care for himself and the baby. Someone screeches that they have to contact the church no one able to stop them in time.

No more than an hour later does a tired Jean, amused Kaeya, and a flustered Barbara as well as the one who ran out earlier walk through the door. Diluc groans as Kaeya teases him about the situation not exactly believing him to be pregnant like the panicked employee said but congratulating him anyways.

Jean congratulates him as well but let's him know they brought Barbara to examine him at the insistence of his staff and if only to clear the supposed misunderstanding. But as they all find out during her examination he is anything but joking and that he really and truly is pregnant.

Elzer who had just woken up faints again at the news. Both Kaeya and Jean stare at him wide eyed and he curses their not-so-absent god.. Kaeya pats his shoulder wordlessly congratulating him again before tripping on his feet and joining Elzer on the floor.

Diluc and you share a look.

It could have been much worse.

And it is as you find out days later that now the entire city of Mondstat believes he's having an immaculate conception. Venti cheerfully praises Barbatos for this miracle when he sees him and Diluc has never wanted to strangle him more than he does now.

Kaeya in all of his wisdom believed that the little potion he drank that night wouldn't have gotten him pregnant. But here he is vomiting in a trash bin at work while Albedo takes his vitals and jots down a few notes about his condition and Diluc stares at him like he's biggest fool there is. Jean walks in with Lisa pushing in a cart carrying a set of minty tea and some light snacks.

"You would think drinking a potion that was made to induce pregnancy in yourself you wouldn't be surprised that it did result in pregnancy." Diluc comments and Lisa rubs Kaeya's back as he glares at him. "None of that. I made you some tea it'll help settle your stomach.

Albedo takes the trash can from his hands before handing him a moist towel and a liquid to clean his mouth. Jean passes him a cup of the tea when he's finished freshening up.

"While this whole situation is a bit...odd, we'll stick by you the entire way. Congratulations to both you and your partner." His wonderful partner being you who has taken it upon yourself to perform his duties for the day as he felt unwell. He sighs. Albedo hands him a copy of his notes as well as an empty journal to record his symptoms and progress through his pregnancy.

Lisa hands him a book filled with baby names and as he gets congratulations from his fellow knights he gets a little overwhelmed. He's simultaneously happy but uneasy about it all. Eventually everyone clears out of the room leaving him and Diluc alone. Diluc breaks the silence with a sigh.

"As much as I don't understand what made you do this. You and your partner are more than welcome to spend your pregnancy and more at the winery. And should you need anything at all...you can rely on me to be there."

"Congratulations Kaeya."

[cam3lliaw]

Catching the eye of a prince

-crownprince!gojo x maid!reader

Who would’ve thought getting caught reading a book during work hours one random day would not only make you good friends with the right hand of the crown prince, but also end up making the said crown prince be interested in getting to know you.

contents/ warnings: might be ooc, insecurities( some implied), mentions of stealing, a bit of angst at times to eventual fluff, friends to lovers trope, the main characters are all in their early 20s, tba

word count: 0.7 k words

series masterlist

notes: I've read a lot of jjk royalty au recently and I was inspired to write one as well :) this is the prologue and I don't really know how long this will turn out to be but i hope you enjoy it !! (fic under the cut)

“Need any help with that?” a gruff voice could be heard from behind.

You didn’t need to turn around to know that the voice belonged to none other than Geto Suguru, the crown prince’s right hand, his one and only best friend, and last but not least, your occasional thorn in the side.

“You really like that joke a lot, don’t you, Lord Geto.” you said, still not turning to face him as you continued to hang the sheets on the clothesline.

“And you really like to call me that, even though I tell you all the time that Suguru is just fine. And besides, I wasn’t, and never will be, joking when I ask you that question, [name].” he chuckled.

“You know that my answer will always be no, Suguru. There are some lines that even I won’t cross, and to be honest, it’s absurd to even consider I’ll let you help me.”

“And why is that?” he asked, even though he fully knows the answer already.

“Well for starters, I’m not that stupid not to be aware of the difference in our status, friends or not, it still matters to me. And secondly-” you turn to face him as a smile stretches on your face “You don’t see me coming to your office and telling you how you should do your work.”

“I wouldn’t oppose to that, you know.” Suguru smiled back.

“Like I’m smart enough to even step into a place like that.” you huffed jokingly.

At that he grimaced slightly.

“Come on, [name]. We both know you are way smarter than a lot of the people that work in this palace.”

“Reading a few books here and there only get you so far, Suguru. You, out of everyone, should know that well.”

It never gets easier, admitting that you wish for more. In another universe, you would read all day, study literature properly with someone who actually knows what they’re doing, not only from damaged pages of stolen books from the royal library, books that are about to be disposed not only because the years have left them in a horrible shape but sometimes also because the concepts explained are so old that they aren’t even right anymore.

“You know I could always bring and lend you newer ones right? I told you that on multiple occasions already and I mean it every time.” Suguru said as he approached you and stood by your side.

You also know Suguru would never make fun of you, he really wants to help. But it’s hard enough to get and hide the books in the maids’ chambers before you finish reading them and returning them to the library's unofficial “trash” section. Imagine what trouble you would get in if you get caught with fancy new books. It hurts only to think about it.

“I know…I’ll let you know in case I need anything. I promise.”

Saying this is clearly better than admitting the truth. As much as you don’t want unnecessary problems for yourself, dragging Suguru into all of this mess is even worse.

“This doesn’t look very…straight.” Suguru changed the subject to lighten the mood, as he tried to lightly stretch one of the sheets.

“We both know that’s a bold-faced lie! Don’t mess the laundry! If it ends up falling down and I’ll have to wash it again, I won't talk to you anymore, Suguru.”

“We also know that’s not true.” he chuckled as he gently bumped his side into yours.

You returned the action.

And he did it once again but a bit more forceful.

And the cycle repeated itself for a few more times until you literally shoved him, but before he could fall on the grass, he grabbed your hands and dragged you down as well, falling down a step away from the dark haired man.

“You’re acting like a child!” you exclaimed as you started laughing.

“Says the one who shoved me!” he started to laugh too.

“You started it!”

“Oh that’s such a mature argument, [name]. Impressive, really.” the male continued to laugh as he got up and helped you up as well.

Unknown to the both of you, this whole exchange was watched from afar by none other than the crown prince, who was initially looking for his best friend, but it seems like he found something else instead.

end notes: i hope you liked it! :)

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - A Day With Alastor

A/N – Well, it took a while but I finally felt up to writing a bit. There’s still a lot of sadness at home right now, but I’ll try to keep writing.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

TAG LIST: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch @reverse-soe @koirb @usernameunavailable2 @lavenderkita @kannakanan @mcueveryday @amarokofficial @mbruben-stein @tyrythewolf @lasagna-501 @bizzardvark @firefirefeline @kaylanotkk @missme-07 @memontica @angelsdemonsmonsters @tj4shy @midoria-kinnie @meesachan @fusehoundshipper @velvettenoctus @crescent-z @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @rosiescannibalwife @skylerbutterfly @hamthepan @latersgaters-steven @kryptidkova @sleepyhead-number27 @cherry-4200 @harcourtholmesii @alastorandluciferspouse @holyspacething @kedelman24 @becsmarvel @vash-yuu @k-n0-x @radio-leigh @tamaki-simp @wolfdaddyalphasworld @http-dilflvr @cosmic-lavender

MALE VERSION HERE

GN / NB VERSION HERE

You woke up in Angel’s bed. The previous night, you two had laughed, danced, ordered pizza and stayed tucked away in the safe haven of his bedroom. In that time, Angel had been reminded of how much his life had improved recently, and how precious his new friends were, and you had allowed yourself to relax, once again reverting to your previous human appearance. Yet, after revealing how you had died twice in a night, the change to look human felt more like a choice rather than the repression of painful emotions; you still had no love for your Demonic appearance, but you felt it wouldn’t be so terrible if it was seen among friends, or if you wanted a break from the low thrum of energy it took to keep your human façade in place.

You groaned tiredly as you pushed yourself up, never having been a morning person, and upon looking through the slats of the shaded window, you saw that it was very early indeed.

Angel had already left, and you made a mental note to call him in the evening when you knew he would be done with work. Despite the fun respite the two of you had shared, Angel would undoubtedly have a terrible day as Valentino’s plaything.

Stretching, you got up and headed downstairs for breakfast, surprised when you didn’t see anyone at the breakfast bar. Technically, the breakfast bar was just the regular bar, but since Husk typically spent his mornings sleeping in, everyone had adopted it as the breakfast bar and so there were always boxes of cereal on it until noon.

Thinking about it, you realised that since Charlie and Vaggie weren’t there to greet you, Angel Dust had likely talked them through the previous night and reassured them that everything was going to be okay. It had undoubtedly been a tearful reunion for Charlie. Angel Dust would have laughed and played it off like it was nothing, though he would have secretly been touched that Charlie cared enough to cry over someone like him, and Vaggie would have been left to care for Charlie and steer her in the direction of her daily duties.

Absently, you reached for a box and began pouring yourself a bowl of Glutton-O’s. There was a thunk in the bowl as a dead cockroach pinned to a cheap ring of plastic fell into it. You hummed at Nifty’s idea of a breakfast prize, though you didn’t scoff at it. Instead, you opted to wear it, just in case the psychotic little maid was around. If she was, you would make her happy, and if she wasn’t, you could always throw it away when you were far from the Hotel.

Despite claiming the prize, you opted not to eat the tainted cereal, getting up to leave instead.

“Ah, (Y/N), good morning,” Alastor greeted you energetically as if he had only just spotted you when in reality he had been waiting patiently for you to awaken and head downstairs.

“Morning Alastor,” You replied warmly, used to his sudden appearances.

“I didn’t know you were back in our wonderful home. Tell me, was it trouble in Paradise with Lucifer?” His head lurched to the side and his grin became more malicious as he mentioned his rival’s name, though he was back to his default expression a moment later when you replied.

“Christ on a stick, Al. You make it sound like we’re a couple or something.” You shook your head, chuckling, “No, everything’s fine between me and Charlie’s dad. I just came over to visit last night. I’ll be going soon though.”

“Going? Oh my. Well, I can’t let you go without first ensuring you’ve had an enchanting day out. How would you feel about joining me on my morning constitutional?”

You smiled and got up, straightening your crumpled clothes. “Sure, I could do with a walk.”

“Wonderful!” Alastor stamped his cane to the floor, and your outfit transformed into one more fitting for a trip to Cannibal Town.

“Oh,” You hummed, glancing down at the new outfit. You weren’t offended; Alastor liked his travelling companions to look their best and to be honest, you had needed a fresh change of clothes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my dear,” He replied brightly.

Then, Alastor offered you his arm, a rare gesture seeing as he didn’t liked to be touched, and after escorting you out of the hotel, the two of you separated, walking side by side.

You had been to Cannibal Town only twice in the past. The first time was because that was where you arrived upon your death. The second time, you were running from the carnage caused by some loan sharks wherein you had been caught in the crossfire. At the time, you had been dressed so poorly that the inhabitants of the elegant town had chased you to the border, trying to take a bite out of you.

Since then, you hadn’t been back. However, seeing as Alastor was escorting you and since you were now dressed to match the high standards Cannibal Town held, you felt safe in going there.

All those who passed by you and Alastor stopped to bow or tip their hats in due reverence to the Overlord.

“So…” You started, “Is this your territory?”

Alastor threw back his head and laughed, “Ha-ha-ha, my territory? No, no. This wonderful patch of Hell belongs to my good friend, Rosie. Now there’s a fine Lady, if you’ve ever met one.” He hummed happily, “Indeed, they don’t make them like her anymore. I’d introduce the two of you, but I have it on good authority that she is currently away attending business.”

With that, Alastor led you to some of the finer boutiques of the Town. He snapped his fingers and the attendees rushed to his side, crowding him, and pushing you out somewhat. You shrugged your shoulders and began looking around at the many wonderful clothes surrounding you.

You had seen old films wherein boutiques like this once existed, with attendants and fine boxes tied with perfectly curled ribbons. Until now, they had seemed to be a thing of the past, but one good thing about Hell was that the past was all around you, and should you want a taste of something more modern, you could always catch up with a bit of Vox-tech, ensuring the best of both worlds.

You heard the sharp static screech that meant Alastor was offended and turned to find him gesturing at you.

The salespeople who previously crowded him were suddenly surrounding you.

“Alastor, what’s going on?” You asked uncertainly.

“Well, my darling,” He grinned devilishly, “Call this my treat. It’s rare that I have someone travel with me so willingly and I do find it ever so nice to have a passion project these days. So, these fine people are ready to bow to your every whim. Clothes, pearls, a bottle of the finest Champagne, you name it and they will bring it to you. In fact-” Alastor clapped his hands lightly and suddenly a tiny imp rushed to his side, struggling under the weight of the ice bucket he held above his head.

Alastor waited as another hired imp hurried over to pour two flutes of Brut Imperial Moet & Chandon Champagne, handing one glass to Alastor and forcing the other into your hand.

Alastor took a sip and smacked his lips together, eliciting a satisfied sigh, “Ah, 1911, a fine vintage. So, a new wardrobe then?”

“Oh, Alastor, I- I couldn’t,” You said sheepishly as a Cannibal Tailor began taking your measurements, holding a tape measure against your leg.

You tried to walk back to Alastor but were restrained when the tailor hooked the tape around your waist.

“Nonsense, I insist.” Alastor chuckled.

“No, really. I didn’t come here to get anything from you.”

“Exactly! You don’t want anything from me, and that’s precisely why you shall have everything. I do ever so enjoy gifting my friends, especially those humble enough to try and deny me my eccentricities.”

You tried to argue further, but it quickly became an exercise in futility. No matter what happened, you would not be able to convince Alastor to change his mind. So, you gave in, and in doing so, you ended up having one of the best days of your afterlife.

That day, you felt like you were a part of a movie montage. You were rushed about into changing rooms to try on several outfits tailored to you, your face was peppered with makeup, attendants were constantly by your side, gushing over you and offering mimosas or whatever else your heart desired (though, you avoided the finger sandwiches filled with actual human fingers, or any other food, seeing as you were afraid of what might be in it.)

Overall, you knew that this kind of attention would be too much if you were constantly plied with it, but for a short while, it was fun, and you were happy to let yourself be spoiled.

Finally, Alastor decided he had given you enough and offered to take you out for afternoon tea, which you happily agreed to as long as there were some non-cannibal options.

Alastor rested a hand over his heart as if offended, “Oh, you non-cannibals don’t know the kind of flavours you are missing, but if you insist, I promise to take you to one of the tamer venues in town.”

He waved the attendants away, leaving your new belongings to a Demon who would have them transported directly into your room.

When the two of you sat down outside of the Insani-Tea tea house that overlooked the pavilion in the central plaza, Alastor sighed contentedly. He picked up his cup and swirled it around airily, taking a look at the scenery as he changed the topic from the previous ones about the hotel, “This has been quite a lovely day if I do say so myself.”

You smiled happily, resting your hands around your tea cup and relishing the gentle warmth, “It has. Thank you, Alastor. I needed a nice day like this.”

“Hm? So, life with our all-powerful Satan hasn’t been all you imagined.”

You chuckled as Alastor caught your eye, “Well, it was all Charlie’s idea, and you know what she’s like when she gets a thought into her head.”

“Indeed. A very determined young lady.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“You’re not happy, then?”

You took a moment to contemplate the question, “Honestly? I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in a very long time. It’s… hard sometimes to be in such a new place when I felt so at home in the hotel, but I think that Charlie might be on the right track when it comes to Lucifer.

Granted, her methods are… Well, she’s a real ballbuster when it comes to her ideals on friendship and the like, but I think that if her father could see what she’s trying to do and make a connection with people like us then he would see that Hell isn’t just one big punishment and that he and his family did manage to build something sort of good here.”

At the mention of Sinners as a Collective, Alastor’s grin became darker and more sinister in nature, as if he didn’t approve of your placement of him and the other Sinners on the same level, though, distracted as you were, you missed his disapproval and sense of superiority. He however didn’t miss the way your smile softened when you mentioned Lucifer’s success.

It wasn’t love. Of that, Alastor was certain, but if he nudged you in the right direction, you could probably fall for that blonde idiot, and if that happened, and if Lucifer somehow also found feelings for you, Alastor could use you to manipulate Lucifer.

Like all of Alastor’s plans, this would take time and a lot of work, but the reward would be great. With time, he would be the new ruler of Hell, and that was a day he sorely looked forward to.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that our darling Charlie was right in her hunch,” He said genially. “You should continue to work with Lucifer. I’m sure it would be beneficial for everyone.”

 “We’ll see,” You agreed, taking a sip of your tea.

Lucifer paced back and forth in the Pride Parlor where you usually spent your afternoons. Where were you? You had been missing all day.

He folded his arms tightly against his chest as he paced. Had he upset you the night before? What was he thinking? Of course he had! You had told him how you died, and now… Now, what? Had you run away? Should he call Charlie?

Lucifer didn’t know what to do. He didn’t own you, and while you had claimed him as your friend, he had never reciprocated in kind.

The sound of the door opening caught Lucifer’s attention and he looked up hopefully, but it was only Spick closely followed by Span, each of the snakes holding feather dusters and getting to work cleaning the room. Lucifer watched as Span dusted the fireplace mantle, his eyes travelling upward to a portrait of him and Lilith together; it was one of the earlier pieces he had commissioned from an awful Sinner, Salvador Dali; the artist’s punishment for selling his soul to an Overlord had been that whenever he was commissioned, he wasn’t allowed to paint his beloved surrealism art and could instead only paint portraits.

In the painting, Lucifer was staring intently at Lilith, admiring her for everything she was or ever would be since her potential was limitless to him. She however was looking straight ahead, a demure smile upon her face.

When Lucifer thought of you, he couldn’t help also thinking of Lilith. Granted, you and he were only friends, but Lilith had also disappeared and now she had been missing for seven lonely years. Lucifer would hate to think that he had driven the only other person to live with him since then away too.

Anxiously, he twisted his wedding ring from side to side, feeling more miserable than ever.

“Hey boys,” Your cheery voice greeted as you entered the parlour.

Lucifer spun around to find you eagerly smushing Spick and Span’s faces like they were puppies or something equally as pettable.

“(Y/N)… You’re back,” He murmured quietly.

Mistaking his quietness for indifference towards you, you wilted somewhat, “Yeah, but I can uh- I can leave again if that’s what you want.”

“What I want?” Lucifer repeated listlessly. He held up his hand as if he was going to touch you, but let it drop again, “I’m… I’m going to my workshop.”

You nodded, your brows furrowing at the strange exchange, “Okay, I’ll- I’ll be in my room.”

Lucifer passed by you to leave the parlour first, then he seemed to change his mind, if only for a moment.

“It’s good to have you back,” He said softly before heading out.

You smiled to yourself, relieved. “It’s good to be back.”

You thought that Lucifer hadn’t heard you, yet as he walked to his workshop, a small smile reached his lips; it had been a long time since he’d considered anyone new to be a friend.

[fairykingjing]

Zoro x Reader-- Nap time

First time posting anything like this online so bear with me if it’s trash. Wanted to write some Zoro one shots and fics, then hopefully post a longer story later on.

Summary: You and Zoro have been training together for a while now, after he agreed to teach you some basics of fighting. You’ve found yourself growing closer to him and sometimes sit with him afterwords to chat, or just enjoy each other's silent company. Extra tired from that day's training, you find yourself nodding off… on Zoro! What will happen when you wake up?

WC: 536

Warnings: none, female reader, little bit of fluff, Sanji yelling, idk how this works yet but I'm figuring it out.

You found yourself pinned beneath the green-haired swordsman again, for the fifth time today. He had been sparring with you to assist in teaching you some fighting techniques, and he was winning of course. His strong muscles held you in place, and his face was only a few inches from yours. “You ready to tap out yet?” he teased. “I um, I guess so” you answered, blushing. You turned your head away quickly in a failed attempt at hiding your face. He pulled you up to your feet and you dusted yourself off. You couldn’t help but to replay that scene in your head and you quickly tried to walk off, muttering a thanks on your way. He was quick to grab your hand though and pulled you back to him.

“Hey, what's the hurry?” he asked confusedly. “Don’t we usually sit for a while afterword?”

“Oh, sorry, I’m just a little extra tired today,” you replied.

“Well, come sit with me and relax, then,” he insisted. You followed him to the shady spot on the Sunny where you usually spent your post training time to rest. Plopping down next to him, you let out a content sigh.

The two of you talked for a while, commenting on the days training exercise and how you could improve. Then, a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, and you felt yourself nodding off. It wasn’t long before you had fallen asleep.

You weren’t sure how long you slept for. But when you awoke to the sound of Sanji yelling, your eyes flew open, and you realized your head was resting on Zoro's broad chest. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes, you quickly jolted up and began apologizing repeatedly. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep on him like that.

“Quit apologizing,” Zoro said. “And quit yelling, cook. You interrupted our nap."

“What do you think you’re doing with your arm around her anyway?” Sanji yelled. “She would never want to be with you, moss head! She needs a true gentleman.” His words stung, and as you glanced over at Zoro you could tell he was bothered too. You hoped he didn’t believe those words.

“Actually, Sanji-” Zoro started to correct him, but you cut him off.

“I’m the one who fell asleep on him, not the other way around,” you informed. “Sorry to burst your bubble but maybe I would want to be with him.”

“You would do this to me, mon amore? You would choose him over me?” he gasped. He quickly left to sulk, probably feeling down about himself. You didn’t want him to feel bad or anything, but you also didn’t want to lead him on in any way. Looking at Zoro again, he stared back at you, chewing his lip.

“Sounds like we have some things to talk about,” he began. “But first I want to finish our nap.” He pulled you into his chest again and placed a soft kiss on top of your head. Before you could register what was happening, he was snoring, so you decided to get comfortable and nap some more too. You smiled to yourself, eager to see how things would go after you woke up again.

Thanks for reading, I hope your day is nice.

[vibratingskull]

Hi, I just wanted to say that I love reading your fic posts you made and was wondering on a AU… What if Thrawn and other chiss were in Epic AU..?🏹

Fem-reader waits for Thawrn to return home from the war. It’s been 12 years since he was gone, chiss sailors who wilfully defiles Thrawn's home while the he is lost at sea. They await for the reader to choose a new husband to rule Ithaca. Reader gives the sailors a challenge of who’ve never can string her husband old bow and shot 12 axes cleanly. Each of them try and fails, they had enough of waiting and began plotting to kill their son and do horrible things to the reader. Not knowing that Thrawn was among them. Hearing that made his blood boiled as he takes his bow and shot down their leader down. After getting rid of all the sailors, he finally meets his son and was about to see his wife. But he wondered if she will ever love him again..?

Idk I just thinking of how you’ll make this Epic AU in your own writing. Take your time on working, rest if needed. If this is not pick, it’s alright^^

Oooooh, an Epic Au! I did not read the Odyssey, nor did I watch/listen to the musical so I hope this is okay

⊹︶︶୨Thrawn x F!reader ୧︶︶⊹

Tags: Epic alternare universe, ancient Greek alternate universe, suicide attempt, reunion

Clip clip clip clip 

You crouch next to your weaving loom, cutting the precious threads of your tapestry, reducing all your hard work of the day down to nothing.  

Not that you put much effort into it in the first place. The pace of the weaving must be believable to the untrained eye but remain slow. None of those crude warriors understand the delicate art of weaving, but they sure notice if a work takes too long to get completed!

 You sigh, thinking about your husband as you pull out a golden thread off the frame, the wavering flame of your oil lamp illuminating you in the middle of the night.  

Where is your Chiss now? 

Is he even still alive? Are you doing all of that in vain? 

You jump as another crashing sound resonates in the villa. You frown, looking at the door of the room, guessing the silhouette of the stairs going down to the living room where all those... thugs are ruining your house.  

Thrawn’s house! 

They invited themself in, terrified your house servants, pillaged the villa of its treasures, and now they seem to be destroying the pieces of furniture. 

They did not like your little game. 

You keep cutting down the tapestry as loud voices start to rise and resonate in, degenerating into shooting. You recognise your son’s voice, coming back from his tasks of the day, and find his father’s rivals trashing the house. 

Your son was trained in the way of the blade by Thrawn himself, but those thugs are also armed, drunk and pissed off! You readjust your hair veil and go down before the first blood is drawn. 

But when you reach the first floor, they are already gone, leaving your son and his friends in the middle of the trashed living room. 

“Thelemachus.” You greet him 

“Mother!” Your son turns to you, enraged, “Did you see? Did you see what they’ve done?!” 

Thelemachus’ group of friends slightly bows to you and leaves the room, as decency demands. 

“I mostly heard.” You correct him. 

“Admire the work of those animals!” He extends his arms and designates the entire room. 

All the pieces of furniture are broken, the vases are shattered, the clothes are torn apart, and even the mosaics on the ground and walls are damaged. Those boors have no education whatsoever! 

“It’s impressive.” You admit. 

“What happened for them to lash out like that? Until now, they just squatted in, drinking our wine and pestering our servants, but now they pillaged the rooms and damaged everything!” Thelemachus kicks the shard of a plate shattered on the ground, fuming. 

“It is my fault.” You admit, “I submitted a game to them.” 

Your son looks at you, his (color) eyes squinting with questions and indignation. You observe your son, the blood of your blood, the flesh of your flesh. 

The crystalisation of all your ambitions. 

He inherited your eye color and your nose, but the blue of his skin and his forehead bulges are undoubtebly from his father, as for his blue-black hair. 

“I challenged them to shoot twelve axes to win the throne of Ithaca.” 

“Mother!” He shouts, “You did not?!” 

“I did. My trick with the tapestry is losing credibility by the day, I needed something for them to munch on. And hopefully they will be honorable enough to respect the results if they all fail...” 

“You know they won’t, don’t you? You know they will go berserk if none of them win. Do you know what I heard they wished they would do to you, mother?” 

“I did not hear, but I am old enough to have a good idea, Thelemachus.” 

“If they all lose you will have way more than a good idea mother.” 

“That is why I asked you to go to the market for me today. Did you find it?” 

Telemachus contemplates you before sighing, resigned. 

“Yes... I did...” 

And he hands you a closed square basket. 

You open the lock and lift the lid. 

Inside, all wrapped over itself, peacefully sleeping is a black viper. You observe it for a moment before closing back the lid. 

“Thank you, son.”  

He gulps, looking at you with agitation in his eyes. 

“Is your choice made, then...?” 

“Yes. Whatever happens, I will not let any of those men take me and soil your father’s honor.” 

“You could flee... Go back on the continent, rejoin with your human kin and live.” He negotiates 

“And you? Would you follow me in human territories?” 

“I would die protecting the Mitth’s and my father’s honor!” He proclaims, raising his head high like you insulted him. 

“So you want me to outlive both my husband and my son? Live like a fugitive and die alone?” 

“You know I do not, mother. You are still young, of noble blood. You could marry again and be happy once more.” 

“No. I forsaken my race when I accepted to wed a Chiss, and I accepted to die for the Mitth when I wed one of their sons. This is my honor and privilege to die this way.” 

Telemachus lower his head, in clear pain. 

“I see... If this is your honor, then I will not stop you, mother. But I do not think this is what Father would have wished.” 

“Probably... Surely even... But I must follow Chiss rules, and I would rather be dead than know another man’s touch than your father’s.” 

“I understand. I would rather die than let them touch Ithaca’s thrones without fighting.” 

“So it is decided. Let the mess to the servants and sleep, or go drink with your friends, my son. Let your mother handle our esteemed guests for our last days.” 

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

He remains mute. Following the group in silence. 

He did not partake in the destruction of the villa, simply sitting on a chair with crossed legs and a glass of wine to taste and freshen up during those hot and heavy nights while they trashed everything around him.  

They are furious. 

Absolutely enraged. 

”I can’t believe she would demand such a thing!” One spits, “Who does she think she is?” 

“The queen, obviously.” One retorts, “She is hanging on to her dignity.” 

The first one snorts. 

This challenge you submitted is the last straw for them. 

On his hand, he finds it absolutely brilliant! This is so like you to challenge usurpers with a nearly impossible task. He recognizes your touch. He was a decade late, but he knew Ithaca was safe with you on the throne, and Thelemachus was here to protect you. 

“Come on, gentlemen, can’t you see?” the second one continues, “This is a last-ditch effort to delay our inevitable success. She is against a wall and knows it. Who cares about a stupid challenge when victory is assured?” 

“One of us still needs to win...” A third chimes in, a piece of art of the villa looted under the arm, “Shooting through twelve axes...” 

“We do not need to win anything. What is a human woman against a Chiss warrior, all queen that she might be?” 

“Her son will be in the way.” 

“Just another throat to slit. Once all her followers are slaughtered, the throne and her will be ours to enjoy as we please...” The second grins at the group, a childish glitter in his red eyes, “I do not know for you all, but I may put more energy into comforting that sweet widow than ruling at first. She must miss a man after a decade!” 

A snigger courses through the entire group of Chiss, approving the second’s words. 

He remains silent mute. Following the group in silence. 

His hand on his blade’s handle... 

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

You look down from your window, hidden by thin veils hanging from the ceiling, hiding you to the public eye. A proper woman must not appear in the public eye without a good reason, so you sat down in a chair at your window in your bedroom, looking down at the garden of the villa where all the sailors are. 

They are all discussing among themself, stringing their bows or observing the field where the twelve axes were placed. You cannot hear but can guess the ebullition and the tension in the crowd of men surrounding your villa. Thelemachus is with them, surrounded by his friends, handling the trial. 

“Madam, remain hidden in the shadows...” Your servant presses you, afraid a man would catch a glimpse of your face or silhouet. 

“I am well hidden, do not worry.” You respond, fixed on the field below, “I want to see for myself, the next tyrant of the throne...” 

You sigh in your head. 

You are all attired with your heaviest pieces of jewelry, perfumed and coiffed as when Thrawn was still here and ruled the isle. Your servants bathed you and clothed you in an attire fit for a new King. 

You hid the square basket, you did not tell your servants about it. Once the trials are done, whether there is a winner or not, you will ask for a moment of piece and quiet all alone in your bedroom. 

You will contemplate the heavy wooden bed that your husband carefully carved for your wedding. The bed around wich the entire villa was built. 

The central piece of your house and your life 

A cocoon of intimacy and love 

The bed in wich your gave birth to your son in tears and blood 

You will lie on this bed one last time as you will let the viper dance on your stomach and close your eyes a final time. 

Loyal to death, this is the last you can do for your beloved husband... 

“They are starting!” One of your servants exclaims next to you. 

You silently observe the challengers going one by one, trying to shoot through the twelve axes and missing each after the other. 

Anger simmers in the crowd, and each new loser adds his bitterness. 

Hours flew by as they took their turn and slowly brought you closer to your final moment. 

The guards of the Mitth stand in front of the villa, armed, while the challengers stand next to the edge of the garden, looking down at each other like rabid dogs. 

One of the last ones advances with a large bow and a scarf hiding his face. 

“What an uncooth character! He should reveal his face like a true sportsman.” One of your servants comments. 

You look at this Chiss intently. 

You feel like you know him from somewhere... But where? 

He draws his bow, aiming to the axes... 

And spins on his heels and shoots one of the challenger right in the jugular. 

One of your servants screams in horror while one stumbles away feeling dizzy as you press your hand against your mouth in shock. 

Immediately, the two sides grab their weapons and throw themself at each other in a sea of screams. 

It’s messy, it’s loud, it’s dirty. Blood splashes everywhere on your terrain and on the walls of the villa, soiling your house. The challengers try to force their way inside, but are met with a row of Mitth warriors with your son ready to die to defend you and the throne. 

“Madam! Madam!” One of your servant try to shake you out of your frozen state when an arrow flies right next to your face, cutting a strand of your hair in its wake. 

You gasp in surprise and fall to the ground with her, the sounds of battle and dying men resonating in the garden up to you. One of the servants throws herself against the door to keep it shut as they manage to pierce the row of warriors. 

You hurry under your bed and pull out the basket. You open it and contemplate the viper rising her head high, looking into its eyes. 

You expected it to be a dead gaze, but it is surprisingly... Awake 

It knows no right nor wrong, only survival. 

You grab the animal by the throat while your maids are recoiling over themself, hugging each other, trying to calm each other down. 

“What’s that?!” One of them demands over the loud ruckus. 

“Our ticket to paradise. I will not let them take us....” You explain, surprisingly calm now that the time has come. 

There is nothing more to do now... Let the venom do its work and pray to be reunited with loved ones in the Warrior’s fields. 

They look at you slowly lifting the serpentine creature, wrapping itself all around your arm, showing its fangs ready to bite. 

You gulp and approach it to your throat, and 

“Mother! Mother!” Bangs can be heard against the door, “Let me in!” 

You look at each other then the door in silence.  

One of your maids pokes her head out the window carefully. 

“... They’re all dead...” 

“Mother!” 

You nod to the servant holding the door, and she lets the door open. 

Thelemachus burst through, soiled with blood, disheveled, and clothes torn apart all over, but alive and breathing. 

“Mother...!” He slaps the viper away from you and kneels to grab your arms in his still young hands. “We won... You do not have to die.” 

“...Won?” 

“They are dead!” 

“Fool!” You protest, “Those were the sons of powerful neighbors, how are we going to fight them off now that we killed their young princes?” 

“I have the perfect person for that, mother. Follow me...” 

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

He remains kneeling 

Silent 

Head bowed, hidden behind the scarf, and his long hair, muscles still prominent after that battle, sweat rolling down his deep blue skin. 

You used to compliment him on his skin color. 

You preside over all of them, he and his followers, as you sit on Ithaca’s throne regally. 

A human ruling the Chiss... 

“You make an outrageous claim, sir.” You finally declare after gauging them all up and down after a long moment, “The King has been lost for twelve years.” 

“I know of the years that have passed and the effect they had on my traits. But I am bearer of good news, my queen. The king has returned.” He assures, raising his head to look at you. 

Warrior... You are so beautiful. 

So regal and radiant, sitting on your throne in full power. Next to you, Thelemachus is giving him knowing and approving glances, inviting him to prove his point. 

“That remains to be seen. I shall decide if the king is in this throne room with us.” 

“I am more than willing to prove my point, my queen.” He assures. 

You recognized him. 

He knows you did. 

But prudence dictates you must remain cautious and doubt everyone coming down a boat, and starting a massacre on your door, even to protect you, is not a gleaming point. 

“I have a trial for you.” You snap your fingers imperiously, and several servants appear, each holding a plate. 

He observes them all placing themself in a line at the bottom of your throne. 

“The king, my husband, was a man of the arts. Observe and tell me which of those plates I decorated myself. If you truly are who you pretend to be, then it will not be a problem for you.” 

“Yes, my Queen.”  

He stands up and approaches the plates to get a better view. 

Another trial, tailor-made to recognize your King. Another ruse to protect Ithaca from any impersonator, what’s even the point of taking his throne back when you are clearly so good at ruling and plotting? 

He loves that in you... He knew he had made the right choice to wed you despite the cries of indignation of the Mitth! 

How he missed you, his clever queen... 

He carefully observes each and every plate, analysing the brush strokes, the colors, the tints and shades, the quality of the metal, the polishing, the shimmer of the paint. 

He grabs a plate and climbs the stairs up to you, handing you the plate in silence. 

You grab it and observe it before gulping, a shiver coursing your shoulders as your press your hand to your mouth to repress a sob. 

“How are you, Ch’eo Ch’acah?” He asks with a tight grin, pulling on the scarf to reveal his face fully. 

“Oh my warrior... Thrawn...” You sob. 

“I am here, Ch’acah. And for good this time.” 

He invites you to stand up to embrace your trembling body in his arms 

Finally 

After 12 long years 

Finally reunited  

Together at last. 

You hug each other tightly, paying no heed to decency and Chiss’ habits and customs of the throne room. 

He purrs, hearing people in the audience whispering at your indecency to display such acts of affection in public 

Its okay 

Thrawn is not at his first scandal and certainly not his last 

Who cares about masks and appearances when home is in your arms at long last? 

@bluechiss @justanothersadperson93 @thrawnspetgoose @thrawnalani @twilekchiss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @elise2174@davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @princesslunamoon19 @janjtje @helrose8

[rin-fukuroi]

Hello! Could I request Dan Heng with an s/o who enjoys cooking and baking for the express (e.g. Himeko always get fancy cakes alongside her coffee, March gets super cute donuts, and even Pom Pom gets rabbit-shaped crackers, etc) but she always makes something extra special for Dan Heng?

Hi!

I was a little late, but I was glad to write this sweet request for you. I may have deviated a little from what you asked for, but I hope you'll like it ( ‾́ ◡ ‾́ )

𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞! [𝐃𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐠]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: Dan Heng x fem!reader

Warnings: none, just fluff.

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

God, I always feel like I'm so bad at writing fluff, but for some reason I keep doing it. In any case, even in a pool of debauchery and yandere, sometimes there must be something sweet, right? ( ´ ꒳ ` )

As soon as you had a few free hours, the carriages of the Astral Express were filled with the captivating aroma of a wide variety of pastries.

Once you received a pleasant compliment from Himeko, when you couldn't stand the disgusting taste of her coffee anymore and made chocolate cookies for it to save your taste buds a little, when she kindly offered to treat you to it again, you decided that it would be nice to pamper the other Nameless with something delicious. First, a batch of donuts for March 7, then air pancakes for Pom-Pom, and there was not far for a whole cake to thank Mr. Welt after he helped you out on one of the missions.

It's always so nice for you to see your friends' faces stretch into smiles as soon as your sweet pastries touch their tongues. But there was one person you always wanted to do something special for.…

Dan Heng always refused when others suggested that he try something from your cooking. Although it might seem from the outside that he doesn't like sweets or even disdains to eat food cooked by you (it's so hard to understand his real feelings when his face literally doesn't express any emotions), but in fact he just didn't think that he deserved to try something that wasn't prepared for him. No, no, don't think that he is so arrogant that he can only eat what is made especially for him. Rather, it is another manifestation of his modesty, which he hardly ever admits to.

But you never took offense at it, as if you caught the direction of his thoughts. To cook for him separately the same thing that you cook for other passengers on the Atral Express would be quite simple, however… It's Dan Heng.

Probably, the more you tried to hide your feelings towards him, the more your attitude towards Dan Heng looked like you were simply avoiding him. It's so childish, but there's nothing you can do about how you get nervous in his presence, funny stumbling over words or even uttering complete nonsense, making the rest of your friends feel awkward.

And it should have stopped today.

You'll have the courage, you'll do it. You're going to take a step that should put an end to this annoying awkwardness between you.

You've been up all night knowing that none of you have anything to do today, which means you'll have plenty of time to pursue your newfound hobby. What would he like? Cookies, waffles, maybe candy? Tossing and turning in your bed all night, you still haven't come to full agreement with yourself, but what does it even matter? As a kind of artist, inspiration should guide you in the right direction, so you decided.

March 7 and Caelus looked anxiously at your concentrated figure, which has been diligently trying to cook something in the kitchen for several hours, every time they passed by and heard your dissatisfied grumbling, but they collectively decided to just leave you alone with yourself and your creative process.

Batch after batch of failed pastries were sent to the trash (although they could hardly be called unsuccessful, but there is no limit to perfection). You desperately tried to achieve the perfect balance of taste and appearance of your cooking, but failed time after time, until finally you grunted, looking at another result of your hard efforts, deciding that now it seems you are relatively satisfied.

You nervously shift from one foot to the other, standing at the door behind which Dan Heng's room is located. Your heart literally jumps in your chest until you decide to knock, but then you take a deep breath, taking in more air into your lungs, before finally hesitantly hitting your friend's door with your knuckles twice softly.

— Dan Heng, it's me!

— Come in, — you hear a quiet, indifferent voice on the other side and exhale, slowly opening the door.

— Just so you know, «it's me» doesn't give me any information about who's standing behind the door.

You roll your eyes.

— But you recognized my voice, didn't you?

— Lucky for you.

You move closer to Dan Heng, who is sitting on the bed with a book, ignoring his displeased grumbling.

That's all.

An awkward silence hangs between you, and the man finally looks up from his book, looking up at you.

— Did you want something?

«So, you have to say it confidently… Pull yourself together, it's just Dan Heng…»

You take a deep breath again, closing your eyes, as if trying to concentrate before the fight, causing an even greater misunderstanding of what is happening in the sitting man.

— Cupcake! — you abruptly hand to Dan Heng the most perfect cupcake you've got. A cupcake is neatly wrapped with a small piece of parchment, and on top is a cap of mint cream, framed with a sprinkle of yellow tiny moons.

«Oh shit, that's not what I wanted to say at all!»

Dan Heng just stares at the pastry in your hand for a few seconds before looking up at you with a puzzled look.

— A cupcake?

— C-cupcake… — your outstretched hand begins to tremble. — This is… This is for you! I made it for you.

«God, why are you such a fool?»

Dan Heng's turquoise eyes narrow in disbelief before he accepts your gift anyway, carefully leaving it on the shelf above his head.

— Thanks.

— You're not going to eat it? — you pout, twisting the fingers of your hands behind your back.

— Later, — Dan Heng replied shortly before returning back to reading his book.

You wanted to say something hurtful to him before you left, absolutely furious at his stoically indifferent behavior, but you just snort, throwing a short «you're welcome» before leaving his room.

Dan Heng looks up at the door, noticing how it closes after your figure has left his field of vision. The man sighs, putting down the book before taking your gift from the shelf. The cupcake looks literally perfect, and Dan Heng just twirls it in his hand, looking at it from all sides.

— And you really want me to eat this? — the corners of the man's lips lift slightly as he chuckles softly to himself before taking a small bite of dessert.

Although at first glance it might seem that the cupcake is very sweet, there is a slight sourness in it, which balances the taste and doesn't make the sweetness cloying. The cream is so airy that it literally melts on the tongue of Dan Heng, and the little moons of glaze crunch pleasantly in your mouth.

— Delicious…

[catiuskaa]

i don’t like my mind.

part of the “now playing: mitski!” series

SUMMARY: there was nothing you could’ve said to him to keep hyunjin away from his thoughts. Not on the night of March 20, 2021.

WC: 0.675k

CW: mentions of vomiting, it’s really short but angsty, hyunjin’s hiatus in 2021 is the main plot. (as an oddinary era stay, i can’t grasp how it must’ve felt, so i’m sorry for bringing old memories back. </3)

A/N: ok, shit. as an empath, this was hard to write. talk about a challenge… uf. I’m sorry. please go check out my other works, i am not this depressing in default i swear 😭🫶

[◼️☆🎂☆◼️]

Hyunjin shivered, as he stared blankly at his phone.

The date glowed back, as if mocking him.

“19:54, March 20, 2021.”

It should’ve been a fairly normal late evening for him. But it couldn’t.

Normal had never been a word that he’d use often, but considering his usual routine, no one would’ve called that ‘normal.’

Except that it wasn’t going to be his routine anymore. He sighed.

His room felt colder than usual. He felt colder than usual.

Hyunjin nuzzled the blanket over his nose, and cocooned himself further under it.

He stared at the window, the curtains swaying from the wind that came from outside, but he didn’t mind it. He knew that he was cold because the window was open, but deep inside, he knew that closing it wouldn’t fix his coldness. Or how he felt and empty feeling inside of him, as if it was stuck to his heart.

The blanket wasn’t helping. He kicked it off with a grunt.

Then, his phone chimed. It had been chiming the past five minutes. Maybe ten.

< princess: hyunjin, please

His heart swelled in his chest.

< princess: talk to me, jinnie

< princess: I need to know you’re fine.

He only managed to chuckle dryly, a laugh full of acid, almost poisonus, and that sick feeling scattered all through his body.

...fine?

How could he be fine, knowing that most likely, his life was never going to be the same? How could he be fine, thinking that it could be possible that he really had wasted all of those years for nothing?

He closed his eyes.

Several people had texted him ‘happy birthday,’ but none of them new what it was going to be like.

Painful.

It was like daggers that threatened to puncture his heart and leave him bleeding on the floor, the only culprit being himself and whoever thought it was a good idea to leave him alone in his room, with his thoughts as his only company.

He frowned, and dizzily stood up from his bed, his body hurting from all the stress he had been putting himself to. In his mind, he had to be doing something. He wanted to do something. He didn’t want to keep waiting for the fuss to leave him. He wanted to keep dancing. To keep singing.

He needed to keep living.

The sight of his desk table gave him nausea. He grimmaced at it, his eyes swelling up with tears again.

Cake.

The one Jeongin and Felix had bringed hours ago. The one that they reluctantly admitted that they weren’t supposed to eat because of their restricted diets. The one that they had to leave there just the two of them because the rest of the members had so many things to do that they couldn’t manage to pass by.

The one he hadn’t dared to touch, afraid that it wouldn’t go pass the lump on his throat.

It stared at him. The whole cake. It made a nasty shiver trail up his spine, a sudden need to throw up that made him even more sick.

A stray tear fell down his cheek.

He took the cake with a sudden softness that almost surprised him.

His phone kept buzzing, forgotten, on his bed.

< princess: i’m sure the company will let you come back with them soon

< princess: hyunjin, please

< princess: call me when you see this

< princess: please, hyun, don’t do anything stupid.

< princess: I love you.

But not even your kind words could go through Hyunjin’s mind.

He approached the window and looked down from the fifth floor, finding a trash container next to the building in front.

With a groan, he stared at the cake, at the message over it.

“Happy birthday!”

He sniffed, quickly cleaning his tears up with one hand, as both of them trembled, the other still holding the cake.

And he threw it to the container, watching it crash against its lid despite the plastic cover.

He didn’t want to have a happy birthday.

He wanted his life back.

[◼️☆🎂☆◼️]

~Kats, who is so sorry for this, and who admires all of the stays who had to go through hyun’s hiatus.

[mannatea]

Knowing, a Rose of Versailles fanfic

Words: 8,129 words Summary: Oscar and André, the morning after the barfight. Pairing/Character: André/Oscar Warnings: None. Extra Info: This is for the lovely and perfect @nicetoart / @niceto169 whose beautiful art has once again come into my house and beat me up. Crazy that this keeps happening! This piece is based on two of her works: You'd love the stars & It's not my blood. Rating: T Genre: Friendship, light romance/attraction, yearning.

Special thank you to @trash-god for her keen eyes.

I hope you enjoy. 🌹

Notes/“behind the scenes” footage:

This was written based on the manga characterizations. This is true for almost everything RoV I write these days, but I feel the need to say it anyway.

--

When I conceptualized the story for this piece, I was so certain it was going to be a really short story told in Oscar’s perspective, but ultimately it feels really strange to know both sides of the story and not showcase them both, so this monstrosity was born.

My biggest goal in writing this is to destroy niceto169 (obviously), but also to try to show what might be going on in the heads of the characters she drew so thoughtfully. I hope I succeeded.

--

I’ve always been of the opinion that the kiss André gives Oscar after the barfight is important for a number of reasons. First of all, she reflects on this kiss literally years later, and holds it up in her head as an ideal standard—as something she’s looking for again. She compares other experiences to it. She even links the kiss back to André, and to such a clear degree I believe it’s impossible to say she was completely unconscious when it happened.

Conversely, we never see André think of that scene again on-page.

In my mind, this serves a great narrative purpose: showing that the kiss is something he gave her, not something he was trying to take from her (if that makes sense). It’s still not fully selfless, of course, but I don’t see it as a particularly selfish act, either.

--

If there isn’t yearning, is it really an OA ‘fic? No. Next question.

I tried to play a little with posture in this at points: her curling into him, shouldering him, him leaning toward her when they’re verbally sparring (to show that closeness). And also her looking away from him on the walk home, to show her awkwardness.

I was really happy to see that the movie mentioned where André might have been if his grandmother hadn’t taken him in (and if Oscar’s father hadn’t given her permission to do that), so I included it here, because there’s just no way André isn’t very aware of it.

There’s something SO interesting about Oscar, André, and Fersen all being tangled up together in this nonsense. I didn’t want to dive into it too much, but Fersen leaving the people who love him to worry is the reason Oscar went out drinking, so I had to include it.

The inhale/exhale component to the kiss features in both perspectives. Oscar, some years later, mentions the inhale/breathing in part of the kiss, and I wanted to mimic that here. From his perspective, then, he’s breathing in the things he loves about her, and then trying to give her support. From her perspective, it’s like he’s letting loose all the bad pressure that’s been building in her and then filling the space with gentler things.

I also made it two kisses: that first tentative initial touch, then something a little more solid (so not TECHNICALLY two kisses, but one kiss that “feels” separated because there are the two steps to it, if that makes sense).

Just really loved the imagery of the burdens Oscar bears being a yoke, and how oxen/horses tend to pull in teams. The way that leaves André to want to be the one hitched to her, sharing in that with her is just... OUGHHHH. I’m very normal about this! :D

André’s “moderate” comment/agreement is more about him acknowledging that she exists in the middle than it is the truth. He had no trouble carrying her for hours, after all. He agrees with “moderate” because he thinks it will make her happier to hear (and it does).

André’s guilt starts to settle in the moment he’s “home” because now he has to live with what he’s done and it’s the first time he’s ever done something so out of line.

Most of the injuries were taken from niceto169’s art or from the morning-after scene where André’s bandaged up. I don’t think he broke his arm or anything, since he was able to carry Oscar so long, but it’s probably badly bruised or strained. It helps that it’s his left, so it was carrying the least amount of weight.

I’ll never let it go that André said, “We sure are lucky they didn’t discover you’re a woman.” He says it casually but the way it’s linked to her hotblooded nature and how much he believes she looks like a woman, and how he knows her heart must be in anguish sometimes about all this is just. UGHHHH. It’s also a reminder of why André exists so closely to her all the time (as a bodyguard). After all, when she joins the French Guard, her father sends André with her because even he is aware that she might be in physical/sexual danger from other men.

I wanted to link those men touching her against her will with what André does, because I think he would draw that connection himself. Like he knows what he did is different and he’s not like those men, but it still feels awful to him that these things happened so close together. He doesn’t want Oscar to even unconsciously make that connection/doesn't want to be like that.

Oscar feeling guilty for losing her temper and getting André hurt (but never apologizing for it) was intentional. I’m deeply obsessed with the idea that when these two make big mistakes or do really stupid things, that they just let it go: I think seeing that as early as the barfight scene helps to build up the quick forgiveness/pretending it never happened-ness of the incident/poisoning scenes. Like, it establishes that this is the way things have always been between them.

Oscar’s also pretty emotionally immature in general I think, when it comes to personal relationships, but I don’t think she’s ignorant. She knows the barfight was her fault, but if she apologizes for it, she has to open that can of worms…and she’s not willing to do that/be vulnerable like that.

The “Are you a noble, too?!” line in the manga is wild to me, but it really makes sense. They’re basically the best-dressed people in the bar, and the way André keeps calling her by her name makes them seem like they’re equals to any bystanders.

I’m extremely obsessed with Oscar’s line in the manga: “Listen! You and I are both human beings. We belong to the same species! Merde, to hell with rank and status!” All while she’s heavy breathing, lmao. André’s cute little smile/chuckle about this is ADORABLE (you know he’s so charmed) but it pisses Oscar off more, because she IS a belligerent drunk and thinks he’s laughing at her idea, not at how cute she’s being.

Jericho is one of the oldest cities in the world with the oldest known defensive wall. Biblically speaking, we are told of the Battle of Jericho led by Joshua: the first Israelite victory in the Canaan Land. This isn’t a historically supported narrative, obviously, but in the Book of Joshua, the Israelites marched around the city’s defensive walls once a day for six days, and seven times on the seventh day. After the shofar (horn, oftentimes called a trumpet in more modern translations) sounded loudly, the Israelites all shouted together, and the city walls fell down. I really wanted this juxtaposition between Oscar and Jericho to feel strong. I went with “trumpet sound” because it’s such a common thread in Christian texts and is a phrase people may recognize.

The way “It’s not my blood” gives us a glimpse at the idea that Oscar might have known for sure there was a kiss, and that André had given it to her, just made me absolutely feral. I already said that it’s pretty clear to me she was somewhat aware of it, but the way this piece solidifies all the evidence is something I wanted to also capture with this story.

I really, REALLY wanted to explore the possibility that Oscar couldn’t quite determine if André had been the one to kiss her, or if she might have somehow kissed him. It makes her uncomfortable to think she might have kissed him, because she’s aware of the power she has over him (and fearful that if he returned it, it was only him giving into what she wants, rather than something he actually wanted to do). At the same time, the kiss she remembers is EXACTLY what she wanted/the brand of comfort she was looking for, and it seems impossible to imagine that André would just Know That: so she must have taken it. Probably.

I played with the idea of Oscar never realizing one way or another (because the blood being André’s doesn’t mean she knows who kissed whom, just that the kiss was real, rather than something her lonely mind made up to comfort herself) but ultimately decided to give her closure so that she at least can reflect on the experience as something fully positive for the rest of her life. This seemed the most reasonable approach, too, considering how she holds this up for years to come as some kind of Ideal.

(And later in life fully understands that gentleness/kindness is what she needs/finds fulfilling, and that is why it was so meaningful to her.)

The phrase “for some reason” (or a variant thereof) was used 6 times in this story.

Nanny/Granny blasting into the room ready to obliterate both of them was fun. I like to imagine they can’t ever get away with anything when it comes to her. She knows too much. Classic situation. She really does have eyes in the back of her head.

Ended this on a more positive/sweeter note because I am a kind person. Sort of.

Themes of knowing are literally everywhere in this story, hence the title, which OBVIOUSLY comes from Oscar’s iconic “The lips I know” lines.

--

I hope you all enjoyed the story (and maybe these little behind-the-scenes notes, too). Thank you for reading; comments are appreciated as always!

[thatonefanficwriternooneknows]

Corrie Week Day 7: FOX DAY!

And with this I have completed my first ever FULL fandom week thing! (I always end up forgetting to do day 7 lol) and while none of it is particularly long, I'm still proud of me!

Once again writing this at work because why not get paid to write fanfiction?

Here we go!

--

The thing about Coruscant that the GAR didn't know was that it wasn't worth protecting. That the down on their luck people were stepped on by those with money and power, and that the people with money and power could do whatever they wanted and get away with it.

It wasn't fair but nothing in life was.

So Fox did the only thing he could do.

Shrugged and moved on.

There was better osik for him to worry about than natborns and their arbitrary rules of class and other such rot. Fox had shinies to take care of and troopers to train, he didn't have any time or energy to spare in wondering about the strange things natborns do.

Didn't stop the Corries from collecting gossip like a trash chute collected waste.

"Senator Drahish definitely has a few side arms, none of the beings that came over to xir rooms last night were xir spouse and they all stayed until relief at 0600!"

"I'm positive Senator Binks only exists to make us question Nabooian citizen's sanity."

"Last week Senator Ishtasi met up with a Jetii and they totally kriffed in the alley. Smelled awful but whatever rattles your shell, am I right?"

"General Kenobi is clearly in love with his Commander, and the Commander is blind as haran and doesn't notice because we all know Commander Fox got all of the brain cells out of that batch."

"At least it's better than Commander Fox knowing Vos is bucket over boots for him and using his privileges to get whatever the Commander needs or wants."

Fox glared at the two discussing that last bit of gossip, but the idiots just smiled cheekily back at him. Unfortunately, his Corries were well aware of his fondness for all of them. Even if none of them necessarily knew that Fox wasn't manipulating Vos so much as he's letting his partner do nice things for him.

He'd never live that down.

So he let the two off with just a wave of his hand and leaned back in his ever so comfy desk chair said Jedi acquired for him. No he will NOT be asking where it came from.

For once he was doing as Hex ordered, and taking a much needed break from the never ending stream of datawork.

(Mostly because Hex had Codex install cams in Fox's office that live streamed to the medbay. His CMO would absolutely notice if he wasn't taking the mandatory breaks and resting his eyes and hands for some kriffing reason.

It was also the unfortunate reason Fox had had to cancel his much desired visit from Quinlan because there was no way in haran Fox was going to let Hex see him and his Jedi kriffing.

That was too much power for one vod to hold.)

His peace last a whole five minutes (a record) when there was a commotion in the hallway right outside his door.

Fox sighed.

Hopefully it would be something important enough that Hex wouldn't get on his shebs about ending his break early.

There was barely enough time for Fox to put his feet down on the floor before the door to his office was slamming open (how in the Force? They were SLIDING doors?!).

It was a GAR trooper in royal blue.

What the heck was one of Rex's idiots doing in Corrie Command?

Thire, Stone, and Thorn all clamored in right after the frontie, a few other guards crowding around in the doorway.

"I told you earlier, frontie, whatever you need to tell us can go through ME first!" Thorn huffed and tried to push his way between the GAR trooper and Fox with a puffed up chest.

The trooper just pushed Thorn aside, which cause his fellow Corrie to let out a hilarious squawking sound as he was knocked to the floor. (Thorn carried around a massive fire arm for fun, the Force was up with this trooper that they could just knock him aside??)

"Commander Fox?" The frontie slurred slightly, swaying a bit where he stood, so Fox decided to put him out of his misery.

"What can I do for you, trooper?"

"Are you actually Commander Fox? Because all of these Corries said that THEY were Commander Fox." The vod took off their bucket and glared. They did not look healthy.

The Aurebesh five on their temple the only thing not coated in sweat and other debris.

Interesting.

Fox settled back in his chair.

"Pretty sure that os'ika, Rex, told you exactly what my paint looked like, Fives. Now what do you want?"

It was a credit to Fives that he didn't startle at Fox knowing who the Force he was, but Fox was still withholding judgement considering the vod looked like he was on a bad spice trip.

Fives squinted at him then nodded quickly.

"Yeah, the Captain said you were, like, a super asshole."

Fox smirked. He did, in fact, have more asshole than most of his batch (barring Cody and Wolffe, who were definitely more asshole than he was).

"Anyway, the Chancellor is a Sith Lord and there are little microscopic chips inside of every vod with override codes that can make us do anything he wants us to, including murdering the Jedi including their tubies and cadets." Fives swayed where he stood, and Stone came up to steady him.

Fox hummed.

"Well?" Fives looked a little angry, but it was to be expected considering he was a frontie.

"Thorn."

"Sir." Thorn snapped to attention and saluted, recognizing Fox's voice for the Professional Shenanigans are Afoot tone that it was.

"You still have that slugthrower I'm not supposed to know about?"

"Yessir."

"Please go get it, I'm going to shoot the Chancellor."

"Yessir!"

The Corries departed with shouts of glee and a few exclamations of "finally!" following them.

Poor Fives just looked confused.

"That's it? I thought I'd have to be more persuasive than that..."

Fox shrugged.

"I've been looking for a way to murder that old man since I got on this skughole of a planet. This is better than the excuses we've been brainstorming."

"And if I'm wrong??" Fives furrowed his brows and looked to Stone like he was going to be of any help.

"Are you?"

"NO!"

"Then it's time to commit a murder. Let's go."

[dihydromorphinone]

I CAN'T WAIT TO TASTE YOU.

after watching her for over a year, tanner can't control his urges anymore and he goes to claim what, he thinks, is rightfully his.

— tanner x reader, reader/character is implied to be female and in luna's place, not really smut but very suggestive it was supposed to be a smut though, kinda dark themed(!!) but it is consensual somehow TT, stalking references, i'll definitely write a part two with smut 👅, been writing this for four months;; kinda feel like i could've done better

if you like it pls reblog!! ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

an: i wanted to try something new hehehe tell me if you like how it's written!! also dude... tanner voicelines are so cannibalistic and sexy,,, and i feel sooo bad i drank too much and i was sitting outside drinking beer with some random ahh guy at 3am and I'm pretty sure that something i took today got laced >_< this is my comfort fic yall.

tonight was oddly peaceful. the state of Montana, especially that one – someone would say cursed – town was the complete opposite of peace. with the sudden increase in crime; murder, kidnappings, disappearances mostly the city was covered with terror. the blueblood killer was definitely a real threat, a threat that is wandering free on the sickly covered in fog streets, while the poor citizens are left in the dark – and though he enjoys the exposition he has, for tanner it wasn't enough. it's never going to be enough.

he's cruel. psychotic, even. what sane person would happily murder so many of its own kind? none. and yet, there he was. enthusiastically setting feet rhythmically on the pavement, the heels of his elegant shoes making a barely audible 'click-clacks'. so much passion in each step; the same passion which drives him to inject toxins to humans and toying them with much visible sadism. tanner – the blueblood killer, had a very distinctive way of looking at the society. for him, it was nothing else than scum. trash, refuse; all the same. no human mattered to him. he treated mankind like a child would treat its toys; fun, but only for a moment. then the toy, or in tanner's case, a human can be tossed away into some corner, because it won't serve his purpose this well again. his definition of fun, however, was as cruel as he was. stalking, trespassing, closely observing his prey's emotional reactions and how the body and mind react separately depending on the circumstances and substances. his fun ends when the victim dies or acts repetitively – so he cherishes every moment of preying upon a human.

he found one exception, though – a young woman living not-so-far-away from his hideout; the captivating lady was a detective, with her home set close to the giant, maze-like forest, where the equally handsome doctor was spending his days, and if he wasn't out satiating his disgusting urges, nights. tanner has been watching her for over a year, falling prey to the female's plush lips, seemingly sweet demeanor and her abominable desires. in their own home, each human feels safe. the only place they can be themselves, do whatever they want to do. tanner pitied them - he always did. but for some reason, he still laughed at people who acted different indoors. he defied the whole purpose of safety, stripping the victim of it.

he’s stood in the shadows – where he preferred to be, for now. the thrill of being found was growing fonder and fonder on him, but now's not the right time, tanner would always repeatedly tell himself this like a mantra. like a plea to the sober-thinking part of him to let the other, more careless and darker part have some more fun. his thirst, though, for blood and flesh was just expanding more and more... insatiable, one would think. no matter how many victims would be reported, no matter how the blueblood killer's body count would go up, the urge was almost... attached to him.

through the tinted, mostly curtain-hidden windows, he could see her moving around. left and right she swayed, not getting enough sleep and forgetting basic self care because of her almost sick, he thought, altruistic urges. such a good, upstanding individual she was - someone to look up to, to worship... the woman deserved good, proper treatment only. especially from him - all the neglect is happening because his identity, still a secret, was wanted. tanner almost convinced himself that he feels pity and cries for her, being the source of her opposite of well-being, but in the end it's hard to judge and distinguish emotions while being hazed with mad, almost lusting feelings.

there was, however, no time to reflect the past actions, even if they're undoubtedly mingling with the present. he always did whatever his body and mind wanted, more or less heart. but he would be the last one to judge - there was no place for him and his 'sick' assessment. that being said, tanner finally realised he is in fact done waiting. their time together was pleasant and wholesome, but the urge will drive him to further madness if he won't do anyting about it soon. and since this isn't a mind matter, then it would be suitable to satisfy the flesh, disregarding the heart's wishes and indulge in the woman visible through the small gap in the curtains.

but his heart cannot be silenced this fast.

after searching for his trusted syringe and the mix of liquid midazolam and some other drug he put there previously, he cracked a small smile and sighed, being able to free himself after such a long time. his playtime with victims never lasted this long - this was but a miracle, something unexpected and ready to turn his peaceful, murderous life into something even more vile, dangerous and ruined. but the thought of disposing her like a loose trash didn't sit right with him; tanner was almost disgusted by the bare thought of causing her heart to stop permantly. he was having so much fun now, it'd be almost criminal... but, what is going to happen will eventually happen, so reveal himself to her, he shall.

the woman inside the cozy home was unaware of the terror right next her door, but even if she was - it didn't really matter. for her, the most important thing to do now was to catch that damned blueblood killer, to put end to the town's suffering... and her own grief. she's lost many of her friends and few family members to his wicked fantasies, and it only felt right to do something for the rapidly decreasing community. focused on her promethean task, she couldn't hear the light creak of her door and even lighter footsteps right behind her. only after tanner stood behind her, she could sense someone's presence. shiver ran down her spine, as she vividly remembered closing the door and definitely not inviting anyone, especially this late at night. fear paralyzed her, but then came the realisation.

it could be the blueblood killer. either she will get violently gutted, or she will make a life-changing discovery. and so, the captivating lady sighed, and prepared herself for the worst moments of her life. she turned around, surprising tanner. bold. she was definitely bold, unsure of the danger's scale, yet facing it bravely. his heart barely, but still, softened. endearing, so endearing... but it was too much for her. she closed her eyes right before facing him, squinting her eyes. his little plaything was even more captivating, he thought, smiling softly. though, she could never see it.

"who are you?" she asked, knowing well the answer is going to be fake or she will get no answer at all. or maybe some pistol on her forehead would be all she needed to know before her apparent, incoming demise? but she heard a small chuckle. "i'm the one you've been searching for. pardon me, miss, for keeping you up for so many nights. figured i'd better show myself in person."

his voice was oddly attractive. so pleasant to her ears, so pleasant she almost didn't get what he was saying - clearly, the murderer who got rid of solid few percents of the town's residents was before her, and he was aware of the search. well, it was obvious he will figure it out eventually, but the fact that he exactly knew that it was her... next thing she knew, his fingers were caressing her cheekbones, which made her open her eyes in a second. the sight made her lose her breath for a second.

the blueblood killer was undeniably handsome. sharp jaw, ideally shaped brows, perfect face ratio... not a single thing was wrong. he'd definitely pass as a model, or an angel, though the circumstances made her think of him as the devil. his appearance made it easy to sin. tempting. he was clearly her type, and deep inside of herself she was having a moral battle. she couldn't help the train of thoughts, all vile and lusting, all due to the bare sight of him. that didn't go unnoticed - tanner, as the aspiring master of knowing human reactions, realized she was captivated with him as much as she was with her. the syringe in his other hand, placed behind his back, almost fell to the floor. sweet, so sweet; it seems the paradise's gates won't be opened for him only.

"i've planned some fun activities for the two of us. don't worry, honey, you won't die. yet," the murderer smiled at the woman, terrified and enamored, still gazing at him. oh, how absurdly sweet she was... a perfect mix. with his large, gentle movements he still was caressing her cheek, but slowly moved down to her neck, tracing circles and various shapes. the lady was stunned - and tanner will also be as stunned as the detective, if he regains his mind clarity. but that did not matter; not for now, at least. she's here, next to him, looking at him with lust behind the pretty, sweet facade...

suddenly, the lady felt a sting on her neck. she hissed, and tanner shushed her, continuing to inject the tranquilizer liquid through the syringe. "this will only hurt for a while, i assure you. i wouldn't let you suffer for more, that is - unless you want me to," his poor, horrid jokes made her think about the event briefly, before losing consciousness. this is awful - she is awful, for even considering this monster as a human being, someone that could even potentially become her crush. but the shame can wait, she thought, as the man dressed in white lab coat and red tie came closer to her face and hovered above her, waving his hand as her eyes became droopy and eventually closed.

"good girl," tanner told her, though she couldn't hear those affectionate words. the effects were visible shortly - as if it were not for her perpetrator and his strong, muscular hands she would surely fall down, hitting herself and creating a possible injury. not today, tanner thought, not happening ever. why should she injure herself if the feared master of terror was always for her disposal? but even he wouldn't cut her too deep. the precious flesh of hers shall not be tainted with foolish, mortal-only limited bruises.

having his prized lady in his arms, he spared a few seconds more to admire her unconscious body. not like this was the first time he's seen it - this time was different, though, as he never actually held her like this. tanner closed his eyes swiftly, took a small, but deep breath and contemplated what to do next. it would be a shame to waste the precious liquid he just injected, though it was as precious as she was.

tanner knew her home well, sneaking inside when she wasn't home, and he was about to exploit this knowledge, just as he was about to exploit the sweet, sweet detective he oh-so-adored. holding her as softly as he could, but firm, he moved in the direction of her bedroom, clearly having some sort of a more detailed plan now. after entering, he put her still unconscious body on the big, fluffy bed and then went back to the living room to turn off the lights. should add some more vibes, tanner thought, grinning from ear to ear, as if it was his first time feeling happiness.

awakening from her slumber, she felt as if her wrists were restrained. and soon, she would learn her assumption was correct - although, it wasn't rope or anything extreme as she feared, no.. it was a fine, soft material, silk probably. sitting nice and tight on her skin. in her circumstances, getting tied up was the least she could worry about, and soon, she would find out; as the man's figure hovered over her body, multiple terrifying scenarios flashed her poor mind yet again. but was it surprising? no, it was expected even. her eyes became glassy, as if she'd cry in a second, at which tanner just... cooed. "oh, what's this now? i told you already, i won't let you suffer by my hand unless you want it," tanner replied, bringing his hand to her cheek and gently caressing her already tear-stained flawless skin.

the word gentle did not sit right with him, obviously. his actions were confusing to the extreme; but she wouldn't refuse anything the man would offer. not like she'd even be able to - but he made her think she has a choice and whatever happens next is up to her. what a cruel illusion - one of freedom and safety, that he won't take anything she doesn't want him to. in his mind, she was already his. equal to him, even, though he wouldn't like to see her running around with some sedatives, tranquilizing random people on the street like he does on some nights.

tanner did not retreat his hand, seeing his darling still conflicted but not showing any signs of reluctance. if anything, she was very compliant, and so he shall make sure she's rewarded for her obedience. "could you.. um.. untie me?" she asked, earning yet another one of tanner's smiles. what a silly girl, he thought, asking questions like this. but do whatever she wants him to do, he shall.

"no thrashing and squirming, okay? and i'll give you a piece of freedom," the man said, to which she nodded. she wouldn't want to cross him, never. bringing her arms closer, he slowly undid the bindings on her wrists, brushing his lips softly on the soft flesh of hers. it was somehow... intimate. the way he presented himself to her; she knew he's dangerous. one wrong move or word could probably get her killed, and yet - the way he is now with her speaks a whole different story. one couldn't just see him as a psychotic, sadistic murderer; not when his actions were those of a lover, not a killer. thinking about him in this way was surely a sin. the woman's train of thought, however, was rudely interrupted.

"stop thinking so much," he murmured against her ear. "no point in being so worried. i came here to do what i wanted for a long, long time, you know?" tanner started delicately biting the skin on her ear, chuckling a bit at his own words. "tonight, you shall become rightfully mine. i was thinking of claiming you in a different scenario but i just can't keep myself away from you, sweet girl." her breath hitched, in fear or excitement - she did not know. the anticipation, his face being so close to her own; she was surely about to go insane after tonight. and as tanner buried his face in her neck, she started trying to regain at least part of her mind's long gone clarity.

he's a murderer. a terrible person. he's creating hell on earth. she knows he is awful and she should scream in terror, but her fleshy, earthly desires are clouding her judgement a tad too much. up to this moment, she knew who he is - a killer. his sly antics tonight made her forget about his cruelty, but she shall see him as a criminal, a murderer yet again - he's going to kill her all the same, the difference will be the weapon of choice. he will stab her relentlessly all the same, but not with any blade or syringe. cursing her coveting mind, she brushed all concerns aside and let him have his way with her.

she's going to let him ruin her, deprave her - and she will enjoy every second of it.

[fruity-mega-coconut69]

Back In Your Arms Again

[Pairings]: Tara Carpenter X Fem!Reader

[Summary]: You glanced at Tara, realizing the situation only when you saw Chad only in his shirt and underwear  while looking down. You nodded. “I…I live here now, so..” You trailed off before roughly walking through them, dropping Your bag beside the empty bed. “But… I see you’re busy, so I think I’m gonna go..”

[Warnings]: nothing really, it's sooooooooo short but at least it's something, my writing

A/N: God, I've been so busy. But I'll try to stop finding excuses and write more!

You honestly never thought you’d see her again. Not after what happened. But here you were, standing in front of the door to your dorm. A name was already on it just above yours.

Tara Carpenter

Your stomach tightened as a lump began to form in your throat the longer you stared at it. After a while, you lifted your hand, ready to open the door to hell but it suddenly opened. 

“Yeah, I-” Tara stopped dead in her tracks and her words died in her throat when she saw you.

“Tara.” You breathed out, her name was like venom on your tongue.

“Y/N” Her voice was much softer than yours, her eyes, too.

“Tar-?” Chad’s loud voice echoed down the empty hallway as he appeared behind Tara and you looked up at him. “Oh, shi-” He cleared his throat. “Y/N. Hi. Wh-what’s up?”

You glanced at Tara, realizing the situation only when you saw Chad only in his shirt and underwear  while looking down. You nodded. “I…I live here now, so..” YOu trailed off before roughly walking through them, dropping your bag beside the empty bed. “But… I see you’re busy, so I think I’m gonna go..”

“W-wait, Y/N” Tara’s voice makes you stop right away. “Wh..what happened with your old dorm?”

“None of your business, Carpenter” And with that, you walked out of the dorm room, the door slamming behind you forcefully.

“AN-and I can’t believe it! Like how? And that douchebag, Chad was there, too! In his fucking underwear and a shirt!” You sighed in frustration, waving your piece of fry around as you talked angrily. Zhanna, your life-long best friend, was looking at you with a concerned face until you finished talking and she reached for your hand, holding it still. 

“Hey, hey, I..know that this is definitely the worst thing that could've happened right now, but it is going to be fine. I’ll be here. Always. And I told you, you can come live in my apartment” Zhanna smiled warmly at you. 

“I know, but I don’t wanna disturb you, Andrei and Bao. That’s already too many people, might I add.”

“You won’t! They are happy with it too” Zhanna bit her lip, some of her blonde hair fell in front of her face. She let go of your hand and pushed the strands of hair back behind her ears, also pushing her light purple glasses further up her nose. 

“Yes, because you guys are too good people.” You giggled,  getting up from your booth at the  best restaurant near Zhanna’s apartment, The Flavour Club. It serves the best coffee and pizza. Odd combo but still good. Zhanna sighed before getting up after you, throwing some money on the table and walking out after you. 

“And, it’s either having to hear my best friend and her partners banging or having to hear my ex girlfriend and ex best friend banging.” You grumple, throwing a paper napkin into a trash can that you walked by.

“Oh, hey now, I was your best friend wayyy before that jerk.” Zhanna frowned.

“I know, but he was like my brother until….” You trailed off and Zhanna’s face softened, taking your hand and giving it a quick squeeze.

“And if you -and I know you do- want some more time to think about moving in with us, then feel free to do so.” Your hands swung back and front as you walked, your fingers still interlocked. You nod softly. “And I already told you to get over that bitch.”

You frowned and bit the inside of your cheek. “She’s not a bitch. Don’t call her that” You mumbled under your breath. 

Zhanna stopped suddenly. “What was that? What did you say?” You knew she knew exactly what you said.

“Nothing”

“Right”

A/N: Also it's not proof-read sooo

[upsidedownmvnson]

crash landed

A/N: i want to branch out on this blog and write for other fandoms too, so im dipping my toes in my baby poe dameron's pool

summary: you and poe are stranded on an unknown planet after a dicy shootout. and your injuries are getting worse by the minute.

warnings: probably inaccurate star wars stuff, graphic descriptions of injuries (maybe), broken bones,

"poe?" you whispered, shaky voice barely cutting through the loud wind noises rattling the loose metal of a broken starfighter.

he grunts, barely looking away from the twisted metal he's trying to bend back in shape with pure will. it's been hours, and with no working comms, and no working beacon.. it was time to start considering alternate escape routes.

"ugh - if it would just-" he grunts again, pounding his fist once against it, the sound lost beneath the other crashing titanium pieces.

"poe..." you said, again, holding onto your shoulder. it was starting to really hurt, and you could barely move your arm, you were sure it was broken, and with the adrenaline of a crash landing fading, it was really starting to be a problem.

he looked at you, lips tight and tense, none of the usual spark in his eyes. his mouth softens into a light frown when he sees you cradling your injury.

"if we don't leave soon i dont know how far i'll be able to go," you say, raising your voice to be heard over the weather.

"we don't even know where we are!" he shouts back, frustrated and angry.

"i know but..."

"how am i supposed to get you out of this!?"

but he softens even more when your lip quivers, and he knows he's being cold - but look at what he's done. he's hurt you. he's gotten you lost on some outskirt planet with no way out, and no medical supplies. he's just proven about himself what he always feared might be true ... he can't protect you.

"I'm sorry!" he shouts, he looks around, and harshly scratches his thumb on his temple. "you're right! we have to move."

"take the comlink! i'll try to fix it when we get ..." you squint, "somewhere."

he grabs it, although he doesn't believe you can fix it. it doesn't even look like scrap metal anymore. totally crushed during the crash landing. if he had just jumped instead of trying to outmaneuver, this wouldn't have happened. he could have gotten you to safety but he was so sure that they wouldn't see his flip coming, but they did... and managed to target the gun you'd been using at the back of the ship, causing a small explosion and sending you against the side of the ship and then when you weren't answering he...

he lost all control and crashed the ship. he was the best pilot the resistance had, and he crashed with the most precious thing in his life depending on him. he was a failure.

when he climbs back down from the trashed fighter, he puts his hand on the small of your back and guides you forward. you were disappointed when he let you go. usually, he'd find any excuse to keep his hands on you, but now he dropped his touch as soon as you'd started walking with him.

you walked quietly, holding the ripped fabric on the shoulder of your suit closed with your good arm and kept the other as snug to your chest as you could. you felt like you were trying to hold yourself together.

you knew this was your fault. if you had just made the shot... you guys wouldn't be in this mess. and the man you were in love with - and arguably the most important pilot in the resistance - wouldn't be stranded in this nowhere place. and you wouldn't be a limping burden. you try your best to hide it. to walk normally and disguise your wincing.

"i'm sorry," you say finally, unable to stand one more moment of uncomfortable silence. you'd never struggled to talk to poe before, normally you can't get him to shut up. "I should've been able to hit the fuel tank, i knew where it was and i missed the-"

"this wasn't your fault," he cut you off, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "none of this is your fault, it's mine."

you could barely hear him, and you were about you respond when both of you were taken by complete surprise as you yelped, your ankle giving way under you with a sickening crunch. poe heard it over the wind, and caught you before you could completely hit the ground.

you cried, trying to say something about the pain but all that came out were a few strangled syllables.

"hey, hey, hey, it's okay! i've got you!" but he's panicking. he can't support you with your arm in that condition, and he can't get you up because of the leg. he's sick. he can't breathe thinking of what's he caused. he picks you up, cradling you as close to his chest as he can as he frantically looks around for anything, anything.

a cave in the face of a rockside is all he can see, and he escapes to it's safety, at least able to get you out of the wind for a minute while he thinks. he sets you down as gently as he can, his heart shattering with each deep sob you release.

he looks around, as if help will just appear in the cave. and he stands up, watching you curl into yourself.

"poe, i'm so sorry." you sob, not noticing his confused expression as you hide your face in your arm, words coming out choked and pathetic you say, "look at what i've done."

"you can't -" he pauses, "you didn't do anything wrong, this mess is my fault."

he wants to stop and comfort you, but he doesn't have time. he has to save you, he has to save. you. he's freaking out. he's failed you, the mission, leia, all because he assumed he was better than some first order pilot.

"i have to find you some help," he says, crouching down close to you and moving some hair out of your face. the blotchy, red cheeks, and swollen eyes that hold nothing but pain behind them, made an unexpected tear fall from poe's eye, but he catches it on the back of his hand before you can see. "why can't wait these injuries out, okay?" you nod sullenly, unable to force out anymore words. "do you have your blaster? hm? can you look at me?" he asks, and you do. "i'm going to run okay? i'm going to find you some help."

poe runs for an hour, but aside from the weather finally yielding, he finds nothing. he nearly gets lost on his way back, but finds you sitting up against the hard rock wall, blaster disassembled around you, as you fiddle with the small broken comlink.

"you're sitting."

"i'm totally numb," you whisper, and you're both quiet. you both know that's not a good thing. "i don't know if it worked... but i tried to send out a signal. the transmitter looked functional enough, but the mic was broken beyond... I..." you trail off. "i hope they find you."

"us," he corrects harsher than he means to. "they're going to find us."

you smile. "you should go."

"what????"

"you can come back for me later but -"

"-no-"

"-we shouldn't both rot in this-"

"-stop saying this crap, seriously-"

"hellhole, and you're too important to lose and-"

"stop!" he shouts, crouching down to look in your eye, passion and frustration covered his face, "you're too important, don't you get that!? don't you get anything? i can't lose you too." poe's resolve falls faster than it rose, and he's sobbing before you've even really processed what he's said. "i won't survive it. if i lose you. i won't survive."

"poe?"

"i love you, you idiot."

but then you passed out. and poe is screaming your name, tapping gentle slaps on your cheek to wake you, but it's not working. he's worried you hit your head.

"what do i do!?" he's looking around, but there's nothing. he knows there's nothing. "what do i do!?"

but he hears something outside that sounds like yelling. and he doesn't care if its first order, pirates, or whatever, he doesn't care. he'd surrender himself to save you. he's only got a half broke blaster, but he's got the spark he needs to save you.

he hides behind a tree when he sees figures, waiting to ambush the first person and steal their weapon, but when he grabs them, it's finn looking out of breath and terrified.

"poe! maker, we couldn't-"

"come on!" poe shouts, ignoring his friend, letting go of the fistful of shirt he had, and taking off full tilt back to where you were. finn was hot on his trail, silent. while chewie ran not far behind, roaring in worry. no one liked the crazed look in poe's eye, especially when they knew it was bad sign you weren't with him.

when they're back to you, poe first checks your pulse, his own nearly stopping with anxiety. but however shallow, it was there, you were still there.

poe scoops you up, holds you close to his chest for a second, whispering a secret plea for you to stay with him, and let chewie take you in his arms, begging him in broken words to be gentle with you.

and then poe just sobbed as they rushed back to the ship.

you didn't wake up for a full month. poe ran defensive missions, or short trips. but he couldn't stay focused long enough for anything longer.

when he returns from a simple fetch & return for leia, he's greeted by rey and rose waiting in the hanger, chatting excitedly. at first poe is annoyed, as he takes his helmet off and shakes his hair out. how could your friends find a way to stand around and chat and smile... but when they look at him with wide grins, he hesitates to feel hope. they've said nothing but his heart is racing. he thinks it may beat clear out of his chest,

"someone wants to see you," rose singsongs, laughing as poe throws his helmet on the floor and takes off down the hallway, following his usual path straight from the hanger to the medbay.

he stops in the doorway, panting as he takes in the sight of you smiling with finn, who was sitting on the chair closest to you. he gets up when he sees poe, says goodbye, and leaves, patting his friend on the shoulder as he passes.

"you're awake," he says, taking finn's seat, and scooching it even closer to you. he gathers up your hand in both of his, and leans forward to press his forehead against the back of your hand. "please, forgive me."

"forgive you? for what?"

he scoffs, leaning back but maintaining a secure grip on your hands. "well, for nearly killing you, mostly."

"poe, i missed the shot. i had the shot and i missed it, it's my fault."

"no," he says, sternly, in a commanding voice you don't even recognize, and you listen, watching him with kind eyes. he could live in them, melt into them, stay there forever. "you saved us. you made a beacon out of a gun and a broken comlink. you're a genius, you're... you're so..." he grunts in frustration when the words get lost. "i almost lost you..." he whispers, kissing the back of your hand. he leans his forehead back onto your hand, whispering again and again how sorry he was. 

you smiled sadly at him. he looked thin, had bags under his eyes. you doubted he has been sleeping, finn said he'd spent every night by your side, curled up uncomfortably on the metal chair.

"nah," you chuckle, "i always was gunna come back to you."

"and how do you know that, hm?"

you grin, winking, "because i love you, you idiot."

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up Spring challenge.

Holding Out For Spring

Prompt: Spring | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Alcohol Abuse | Tags: Eddie POV, Corroded Coffin, Future Fic, Struggling, Chronic Pain, Post Break-Up, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Gatorade: Not a Sponsor

Eddie scratches his pen against the page, scribbling forth and scratching away the words that are spilling out onto the loose papers shuffled all around the desk. He reaches for the bottle sitting on the edge of the desk, and takes another long pull.

It was supposed to be a sober month, and he only made it eight days. That's two more than last month, he supposes. 

Writing drunk never gets him anywhere, not really, but he's doing it anyway. Because he feels too much right now. 

The door to the hotel room opens and closes, and Eddie ignores it. He doesn't want the lecture, not from any of them. He's heard it all before, and it doesn't bear repeating.

It's Gareth, and he's quiet as he gathers up the discarded empties, dropping them into the small trash can across the hotel room. Then, he's putting his hand on Eddie's, covering his fingers as they grip the pen, stilling his wrist. Stopping the flow of words.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Gareth tells him, and it's too soft. Too gentle, and Eddie fucking hates it. Hates him. Hates this godforsaken band. 

Hates the never-ending winter he's suffering through. Freezing him to the bone while he moves through the world.

Gareth can't fix that, nobody can, and there's nothing the three of them can scheme up to change this. No amount of babysitting, no amount of coddling, and no amount of treating him like he's fragile. 

He's not fragile. He's broken. There's a difference.

And Eddie wants to fight back, wants to snarl and bite, but he doesn't. He lets go of the pen, and watches as it rolls off the desk and onto the carpet. 

Gareth pulls him up off the chair, and leads him towards the bathroom, getting the water turned on and to the right temperature. Eddie just leans there watching it all happen, numb. 

"Can you stand?" Gareth asks, and Eddie nods.

It's too cold, this winter that's lingering. Steve left, and that saddled him with six more weeks of winter. Only, it's been six months now.

And he's still holding out for spring.

If spring would just come, then maybe he'd be able to breathe again, even if that feels impossible these days, without Steve. 

He gets in the shower, and sticks his head under the spray, trying to sober up. Scrubs at his sides, fingers digging into the scars there. The ones that have faded, but will never disappear. He's in constant pain. The nerve damage, the muscle loss. You can't get gnawed on by bats and just bounce back, at least Eddie couldn't.

Steve did.

But Steve's always been stronger than him.

He's not gonna be fixed, not ever, but they have a show tonight, and if they cancel any more gigs, shit's really gonna hit the fan. He's a goddamn mess, has been since Steve…took a break. 

It's just a break, not a break-up, Eddie tells himself. Over and over, because he won't survive, if this is permanent. Even as the days have turned into weeks, into months.  

He can hear the rest of the band arguing outside the door, Jeff and Goodie now involved. Throwing ideas around. The same old, same old. 

Rehab, again. Canceling the tour, again. Calling Wayne, again.

The last resort, calling Steve.

They can't do any of those things. Won't. None of them will help, will fix him. This is just the way he is, and they have to work around it.  

So, they'll get him sobered up for the night, for the week, and pretend he'll be better this time. He won't be. He never is. The pain will come back, and he'll turn back to the bottle. 

It's genetic. The Munson way. He's cursed, and there's no point in fighting it. 

When Eddie gets out of the shower, Gareth has his scribbled lyrics in hand, waving them around as he talks. Like Eddie isn't even here, listening. Eddie sees the bottle of yellow Gatorade on the desk, that one of them must have gotten from the vending machine, like it'd be enough to sober him up, and Eddie bats it away, sending it skittering across the carpet and into the wall, leaving a dent near the baseboard that they'll have to pay for. That's nothing new. But it shuts them up, just for a second, before Goodie picks the bottle up off the ground and hurls it back at Eddie. Eddie ducks instead of catching it, and it slams against the mirror, glass against glass, all of it shattering to the carpet below.

Eddie lunges towards Goodie, while Gareth and Jeff struggle to hold them both back, and the shouting starts, all over again.

Eddie comes off the stage, and a bottle of Gatorade is pressed into his fist, and he downs it. Ignoring that it's the wrong color. He prefers yellow, and Steve knows that. So does the band. But this stranger, this roadie, doesn't. So, it's red. 

It's fine, but it isn't right. 

Eddie still claps the kid on the shoulder in thanks, and walks away. 

Opening the door to his dressing room, there's a bottle of yellow Gatorade waiting on the coffee table, and Steve waiting on the couch. 

Eddie can't be mad they called him, can't do anything other than crumple in on himself at the sight of him. Steve shouldn't be here, shouldn't be trying to save Eddie from himself, yet again. It hasn't worked before, and it probably won't work now, either.

But Eddie wants it to work. Wants to be good enough for Steve.

"Why?" Eddie asks, and Steve stands. Crosses the room, takes Sweetheart off of Eddie's back, sitting her down gently. Then he pulls Eddie to his chest, those large, warm hands sliding up and down Eddie's back. Soothing him, warming him. 

"You know why," Steve says.

Eddie held out for spring, and he's here now. 

His sunshine, in a yellow sweater.

The start of the thaw.

Inspired by the song Spring by Ed Sheeran.

I said I'd do a sober month, I failed, but tried, and wrote this drunk, Oh, what a state we're in, I'll keep holdin' out for spring Spring, Ed Sheeran

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!