#but i do appreciate that the post underneath this when i came across it was an emmrich volkarin gifset

[elliee3e]

light size kink & age play w logan because i’m feeling absolutely depraved today</3

like, jesus FUCK this gif. oh my lord, i need him to throw me onto his bed and ravage me right now please !!!

content warnings ;

age play, size kink/difference, reader’s described as very small, innocence kink, light sub/dom themes, mentions of piv, creampies, tummy/dick bulge (i couldn’t help myself)

author’s note ;

also in the process of making an old man logan drabble !! hopefully i’ll try to post it later tonight, but if not it’ll definitely be out before monday — bare with me y’all…

oh, logan is an absolute sucker for size and age differences.

logan, who by now was used to sleeping with people of course younger than him — he knew how big he was compared to them, and knew he was pretty big just in general and everywhere.

but you, oh baby. you could barely take his dick without having a bulge at least somewhere in your little body, right from where the thick head of it sat, stretching whichever hole he was fucking, making it his.

something about the way you were also just so needy for his attention. you needed him for everything, even for things as simple as tying your shoes or fixing your outfit. logan would never forget the moment you came out of the shared bathroom in your guys’ room, wearing a small little baby pink dress that barely reached the smooth, soft skin of your little mid-thighs, as you held up a pair of white stockings for him to put on for you.

he knew you enjoyed it far too much. enjoyed the way he would sigh, patting his lap invitingly for you to come over.

“pretty dress for a pretty princess, hm?” he would hum gruffly, but the tone of appreciation and approval still stuck out as he started stretching the stockings out a little with his big hands. big rough hands you wanted all over your body, squeezing and kneading at your supple flesh. your heart would flutter at the words, making you nod and bite your lip, a sentence you tried to keep inside ending up out anyway. “bought it for you..” you would mumble softly, voice slightly ashamed, feeling as his hands started to stretch the stocking over your pretty legs.

and oh, he loved your legs so much. he loved the feel of that smooth, soft skin underneath his roughed up hands when he would run them over your skin, or even when he would press little kisses to your ankle when he would do up your heels, scruff rubbing against your sensitive flesh. it felt so wrong but so right. so taboo to have such a bigger, older man like logan — a man who had been around for centuries longer than you had, who knew exactly what to do to please a woman, you being no different.

and he loved your body head to toe. in his eyes, you were the most gorgeous girl ever. his gorgeous girl, and he would do anything to make sure you knew that.

“yeah? bought it for me, that right, baby?” he asked, a low chuckle coming from his throat at your words, a sound that made your stomach flutter with warmth — and logan seemed to know, as his free hand ran up and over your little stomach: his big palm splaying across it and covering more than half of you there. where he had filled you up with his cum merely a few hours ago. your stomach, that everytime he pounded into you, felt like he was carving a spot just for his dick — your tight heat struggling to even take all of him at times, but it was always worth it to feel that warm heat pour into your sweet pussy, filling you up to every brim. it was enough to make you weak, but after all — you were always weak for logan.

[pbueckerslover]

I JUST WANNA BE ONE OF YOUR GIRLS TONIGHT - CAITLIN CLARK

pairing(s): caitlin clark x female!reader

warnings: language, smut w no plot, strap sucking, strap on use, kinda aggressive cait

caitlin continued planting kisses to your neck as you started to move yourself against her lap. she smirked as she watched you, she could tell that you were needy.

your lips met again and you felt as her tongue lightly grazed over your lip. you felt her slip her tongue into your mouth causing you to moan, yet again.

she deepened the kiss as she pulled you closer to her, the space between you barely visible anymore. you could hear her breathing start to pick up as you moved yourself on her again.

“baby… need you so bad.” you whispered into her ear, practically sending shivers down her spine. your words caused her to get up from her spot. when she came back you noticed she had on the strap she had used on you many times before.

“get on your knees.” she spat out. you did exactly what she said, getting on your knees so you were now level with the strap. “start sucking, baby.” she said and you swore you could already feel yourself getting wet from her words.

again you did exactly what she said, your mouth making its way to her strap. you started to suck on it and you watched as she leaned her head back. “yeah… just like that. such a good girl.” she let out, causing you to move faster.

you sucked harder on her cock, your head bobbing as you moved. she brought one hand up to your hair pulling on it. the other one made its way to your face. she lightly grazed her thumb across your cheek causing you to moan against her.

“want me to fuck you now?” you quickly nodded at her words. she signaled for you to stop what you were doing and get on the bed.

once you were comfortable she made her way over to you. without a warning she was already lining her tip up with your entrance. “gonna make you feel so good.” she whispered into your ear before slamming into you.

you let out a pornagraphic moan causing her to pick up the pace. she grabbed onto your hips to keep you still. you knew there was gonna be marks later from how hard her fingers were digging into you.

“oh cait… feels so fucking good!” you moaned out. you saw her smirk at your praise. this caused her to slam harder into you. you heard her whimper underneath you making you smile up at her.

“taking me so well baby. love how pretty you look riding my cock like this.” she said before placing her lips against yours once again. you kissed her back eagerly, your hands moving to wrap around her neck.

“gonna cum cait!” you whispered looking into her eyes. she placed one last kiss to your lips before encouraging you to cum all over her cock.

you did just that, legs shaking from the overwhelming pleasure. you moved yourself off of her as you came down from your high. you stared at caitlin as she was trying to catch her breath.

her eyes finally met yours and she smiled at the fact that you were watching her. “i love you so much.” you let out, moving closer to her. you laid your head on her shoulder and she wrapped her arms around you.

pulling you closer to her she whispered, “i love you more.” she placed a soft kiss to your forehead before covering you up with a blanket. you moved your head to rest in the crook of her neck and she giggled at the contact.

“goodnight baby.” you whispered as you placed kisses along her neck. “goodnight y/n.” she replied

⇾ be sure to checkout my masterlist if you enjoyed! any type of interaction is appreciated :,)

⇾ ty for reading all the way through 💌💌💌 i hope you guys liked this one!!!! i promise i’m going to get to more requests soon i’ve just been really busy and these next couple days i’m also going to be busy but tysm for being patient! my bday is tomorrow so i’m gonna try to post a fic then for the fun of it!!! i love y’all

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lip gallagher x implied fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re not sure why you feel the way you do but everything is just so overwhelming. what better way to relieve stress than by going to bug your favorite cocky bastard? || preview here

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥��𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠: fluff, tiny bit of anxiety, light smut, soft!lip, reader is referred to as ‘girlfriend (once), princess, and baby’, no use of y/n

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k (2203)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 💌: a reupload because the first didn’t post properly for some reason i have an idea or two for our fav southside boy in the works, but in the meantime, feel very free to send me a request or just shoot me an ask with lip brainrot. i welcome all here.

also! i made a ko-fi, link here! totally not required but greatly appreciated if you want to support!

- ❤︎ -

You’re tired, unbelievably so. You can’t fathom being in this class for another minute. When you slowly direct your gaze to the clock on the wall, you thank whatever higher power is at work that you only have a few minutes before the class ends.

The professor can barely bid his farewells before you’re out the door. You don’t remember ever moving so fast, but you can’t wait to be in the comfort and safety of your room. 

Walking to your destination, you notice how heavy your body feels. It seems like you’re carrying double your weight as you drag yourself. The only thing getting you through is knowing that soon enough, you’ll be able to toss your books aside and rid yourself of the clothes that feel far too tight and warm and- 

You groan, suddenly feeling oh so overwhelmed. Once you reach your shared campus apartment, you can’t help sighing in relief. The tension almost dissipates as you rummage through your bag for your key, letting yourself in. What greets you, however, is nothing short of comforting. Your roommate is currently on the couch, looking like they’re about two kisses away from having sex.

Your annoyed sigh catches their attention, and they separate from their partner long enough to send you a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I thought I texted.” The person underneath whispers something in their ear. You barely hide your disgust when your roommate giggles. “We’ll be quiet.”

You must look skeptical - as you should, taking into consideration the many times when they have, in fact, not been quiet - because your roommate lifts their pinky, “Promise.”

You ignore how they barely wait for you to take your leave before starting back again. Your only focus is quickly entering your room and stripping yourself of those ultra-suffocating clothes. You let out a breath of air, inhaling and exhaling and exhaling and inhaling. 

Burying yourself in your blankets, you lay your head on your pillows and feel yourself start to drift off. The day’s stress fades as you close your eyes, welcoming sleep.

And you do just that until a loud thump wakes you from your daze. You go on high alert, thinking something is awry. Only when you hear moaning do you pinpoint the disruption.

That fucking liar, you silently seethe, attempting to block the increasingly loud moans from reaching your ears. Of course, they weren’t going to be quiet. It was like they had no sense of privacy or respect, for that matter.

Based on previous experience, you knew that sleep stood no chance against the literal bumping and grinding of your roommate and their partner right outside your room. With a frustrated sigh, you pull yourself out of bed, slipping on a hoodie and sweatpants. At least these clothes don’t feel so suffocating.

You move around your room in the dark to find your shoes. You weren’t sure where you’d kicked them when you came home, hazardously tossing your clothes off so you could dive into bed. You think about turning the light on, but considering the headache begging for stimulus, you decide against it.

You finally come across a pair of shoes - well, correction: slippers. Better than nothing, you think as you slide your feet inside. You bring your hood down over your head, practically shielding your face before leaving your room. 

The sounds are even louder as you walk past the couch, and you mentally note to rearrange the living room the next time you don’t feel like shit.

You practically stomp over to the door, not even caring to be quiet. If your roommate doesn’t give a flying fuck, neither do you. They pause long enough for your roommate to apologize with what you know is another sheepish smile.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes as you open the door, “fuck both of you.”

You close the door behind you and almost laugh when you remember they were doing just that. You’re not sure which is worse: staying in the apartment with your roommate being extremely loud or having nowhere to go. You think about it for a second when you realize that both are equally as bad.

You’re about to start stressing again when you think of something, someone else. As you meander through the apartment hallways, grimacing at every loud noise you encounter, you flip out your phone and text the one person you know won’t disrespect your privacy like your roommate.

hey, can i come over?

The elevator dings, and you pocket your phone, boarding the chute. You grimace at the bright lights and the loud chattering of the two people in the corner. While you realize they don’t mean to be so obnoxious, you sigh heavily, waiting to reach your desired floor. 

Just when you think you’ll combust if you hear one more hyena-like laugh, the elevator dings again, and when you sigh this time, it’s in relief.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and you check it as you step off, beginning your walk down the hall.

aww, u missed me, didn’t u?

Your eyes roll as a smile tugs at your lips. You’re about to respond when another text comes through.

come on over since u just can’t live without me

The cocky bastard, you muse, not bothering to text back when you approach the door you’ve been desperately waiting to see. You go to knock when the door opens, and you perk up a bit, only to frown when you notice it’s not the person you came to bother.

Tyler, you think that’s his name, grins at you and opens the door wider for you to step inside. “Hey, Lip, your girlfriend’s here.” 

Lip emerges and greets you with a sly smirk. “That was quick. Bet you were racing to get here.”

Upon seeing your favorite cocky asshole, you feel your stress relieving. With a scoff and roll of your eyes, you deny the accusation. “One, I wasn’t racing. And two, I think we both know who can’t live without who here, and just a hint: it’s not me.”

Lip bites back a laugh, dipping his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants as he brings you closer. His lips are pressed against yours before you even register him leaning in. When you do, he’s pulling away, leaving you chasing after him. 

The brunet laughs then, “What was that again, babe? Something about you being able to live without me?”

You huff, the corners of your mouth tilt down, and your brows crease. It was such a Lip thing to rub it in your face. If the roles were reversed, you know for a fact Lip would be all over you.

“C’mere, you baby.” Lip pulls you closer to him, smirking as he kisses you again. You press into him, sighing softly against his mouth. It seemed like with each kiss, your stress was slowly melting away.

You felt the brunet’s exploratory hands caressing the skin beneath your waistband. Before they can reach any further, a laugh comes from behind you. “Aren’t you two just so cute?”

Shit, you flush with embarrassment. So caught up with him, you forgot Tyler there by the door. You go to move away from the brunet, but he holds you still, one hand cradling your head and the other raising his middle finger to his friend.

It’s a simple ‘fuck you’ that only sends the other male into boisterous laughter. 

“Okay, okay,” Tyler snickers, “I’m going.” The door opens once more, and right before it closes, Tyler calls over his shoulder, “Don’t have too much fun, kiddos.”

If you think you were embarrassed before, it doesn’t surpass now as you finally separate from him, face burning as you plant it on his chest.

You feel the brunet’s chest rumbling as he attempts to contain his laughter. “C’mon, let’s go to my room before Tyler starts creeping on us.”

You follow behind him like a lost puppy, allowing him to pull you along. You don’t realize your eyes are closed until you fall on his bed. Shooting a glare at the brunet, you right yourself on the bed.

His response is a cocky grin, and if you weren’t feeling like crap, you might rip him a new one. Instead, you roll your eyes, laying back on the pillows. 

“So, what’s got you in such a pissy mood?” You hear shuffling next to you and direct your gaze to the brunet, who is pulling his tee over his head. As shitty as you feel, you allow yourself to keep your eyes on how his muscles shift and contract. 

“My eyes are up here, baby,” You can hear his sarcastic tone, and you slowly drag your attention away from his chest and arms to his face. 

“I know. I guess you can say I was,” you pause, pretending to look for the correct word, “admiring the view.” 

You hear the bed creak before you feel it dip as Lip hovers above you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You mean you’re having a bad day because you want my dick? Aw, princess, you could’ve just said so. I’m more than happy to help.”

“Fuck you, Gallagher.” You try to sound annoyed, but your breath of laughter betrays you. “And I’m having a shitty day because I’m tired as shit, and my roommate is fucking.” Lip looks confused, so you clarify. “Like actually fucking, which sucks ass. So I’m here because I need some TLC.”

“Thick Long Cock?”

A laugh rips through your chest as you push the brunet away. “You’re fucking awful. You know damn well I meant Tender Love and Care, not fucking Thick Long-” You can’t even finish your sentence through your laughter.

When you’ve calmed down, you look up to see him staring down at you with a genuine smile, not a smirk or a grin. The quickening pitter-patter of your heart is interrupted when the brunet leans down to peck at your lips. “Got you to laugh, didn’t I?”

The sneaky bastard. You shake your head, unable to hide your simpering grin. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down for another kiss. Then another. And another. And just once more.

You’re satisfied now, and you let him know just that. Though, just because you are doesn’t mean he is. The next thing you know, your face and neck are peppered with kisses that have you squirming away.

“Lip…” you groan as his kisses become more frequent and sensual. He pulls back only to look down at you with that motherfucking cocky smirk you’ve come to love and hate. 

“Thought you wanted some TLC?”

“You’re the most awful person I’ve ever known,” you sigh, pretending to be annoyed. Lip could read right through your facade.

One hand slides under your hoodie, prompting goosebumps despite the warmth, as the other holds him up. Lip’s fingers trailed up to your breast, but he paused. “This okay?” He asks, stroking the skin just below. 

You’re sure he can hear the quickening beat of your heart as you nod, “Yeah, yeah, it’s okay.”

“Just my luck then, huh?” is asked as his hand encompasses your breast, eliciting a shaky breath from you when he presses against your nipple. He squeezes and palms and pinches and pulls, alternating from breast to breast until you’re moaning soft and quiet, digging your teeth into your bottom lip.

When you had come over, you hadn’t been expecting this. But you can’t complain. And as much as it would stroke the brunet’s already enormous ego, you can’t deny that Lip’s fingers are incredibly skilled.

Your hoodie is pulled higher, so you lift yourself to help him remove it. If he was giving you the front-row seat to his show, the least you could be is a pliant audience member. You’ve barely closed your eyes, laying your head on the pillow, when he licks at your nipples. The cold air and his earlier ministrations have increased your sensitivity, and you can’t stop a choked whimper from escaping.

“Fuck, Lip!” His teeth scrape against the hardening buds, and you can’t remember why you were so on edge earlier.

A breath of laughter sounds above you, prompting your eyes to flutter open. “Feels good?” If your brain wasn’t so muddled by the pleasure he gave you, you might ask why he asks questions he already knows the answers to.

Instead, you add fuel to the fire, maintaining eye contact as you look at him through your lashes, “Yeah, it feels good.”

A slight dimple appears as he grins, “You know, you’re kinda hot when you get confident like that.”

During the pause in pleasure, your brain clears some, and you raise a questioning brow. “Kinda?” 

Lip corrects himself, “No, not kinda. I mean, so fucking hot that it gets my dick all hard.”

Your eyes widen at his vulgar choice of words. It takes a second to regain your composure, “Screw you.”

“I’d like to screw you more, princess.” Lip says as he adjusts to sit on his knees, still hovering above you. His hands find themselves home on your thighs, “So, how about you let me give you some more stress relief?”

[misserabella]

new blood

ellie williams x fem! reader

enemies to lovers!

part 2!

summary; you had finally found joel, the man that had taken away your father. surprises show on the faces of his allies when you join them, instead of hunt them down for revenge, ‘cause you were already a prey under the eyes of your sister; abby. but there’s one of them that seems to take a special interest in you: ellie williams.

cw for this chapter; blood, weapons, chains, hostages, fighting, broken bones, threatening, mentions of abuse and imagery (abusive parent), drug usage (weed)…

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡ either ways, i hope y’all like it. <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

-

Another day begun, and just like the last… you didn’t know how many days you’d been her, chained to this wall, but what you knew is that they all started the same way.

One, Two, Three Clicks, a knock and the door was opening.

Bright green eyes found yours, and as always, you ignored her, just like you ignored those who accompanied her. Every and each day they did the same. Came for questions that you wouldn’t answer. Came for something that you wouldn’t give them. How much would they keep you here? Would they get rid of you eventually? Would you rot here?

You kicked the still full trolley that they had left for you the night before towards the girl that stood at the front of the group. She looked rough, with freckles decorating her cheeks and a scar his right eyebrow. Her hair was up in a half messy bun, and there was a gun hidden underneath her green combat coat. It was cold. You could see it in the way her fingernails were turning just the slightest purplish.

The food spilled, and the water wetted her boots, but you didn’t care, she didn’t either. It had been days since you’d eaten. But you were clever. Who told you they wouldn’t drug you? Humans were scary, the real monsters in a world filled with them.

She simply approached you, boots heavy, a thud accompanying her walk as she threw something towards you as well; your backpack. You were quick to grab it, ripping it open and taking out your dagger under the vigilance of the whole group. She never stopped getting closer and closer —even if you were pointing at her with a weapon that you were more than ready to use—, until she had crouched down in front of you, bits of her hair cupping her cheeks.

“You’re not scared.” you muttered and the auburn haired simply shrugged. “Then unlock me.” you ordered and she smirked.

“How about a ‘thank you first’? If you can’t recall, I’m the one who told them to not shoot you.”

“Why would I fucking thank you? I’m chained to a fucking wall!” you hissed and she arched her eyebrows. Your grip tightened around the switch blade.

“If you kill me they’ll kill you.” she said, and nodded towards those who stared at you through the other side of the room.

“I’d like to see them try.” you smiled.

Two men and three women counting with this fucking asshole talking to you.

That’d be easy.

“What do you say? Want me to give you a matching scar on your other eyebrow? Maybe one across your neck would look good.” the girl simply stared at you, not even startled by your threat. Her green eyes never left yours, not even when she got up and gave you her back to get to the door. “Fucking let me out!”

But the door was closing, and you were left alone once again, completely trapped.

“Fuck!” you smashed the glass of water that stood on your new food trolley —the one that she had brought you for the morning— against the door, smashing it to pieces.

And that’s when it hit you. That’s right. You just needed to break.

-

“Okay! Let’s try this again.”

You were laying on your side when you heard her, the door opening with a creek along with the wood floorboards underneath the weight of those who had entered the room. You were giving them your back, trying to stay as still as possible, nor even breathing.

You didn’t answer, didn’t even turn. You were getting out of here.

Your lip was bleeding due to your teeth digging so harshly on its flesh, pain shooting through your veins.

Breathe.

The silence that came after that was terrifying, even more the sound of their guns cocking.

Breathe.

Something was wrong. You knew they knew. But they didn’t knew what exactly. So you had an advantage. You just needed to move your pawns the way you needed to and you’d be able to scape.

Steps became closer, and your breath almost hitched. Just a little bit more…

“Hey.”

You moved so fast it was almost impossible to follow, your body suddenly rising and swinging the chain that had had you captive for days. You dodged the bullet that her gun sent towards you and tugged from it when the chain had surrounded her wrist, sending her weapon far away from her reach.

You smiled as you pressed your switch blade against her neck once you’d managed to press her back against your chest, her hair was ticking your skin, and guns were pointing directly to your head.

“Huh-uh…” you chuckled, raising your eyebrows to the group that now threatened you. But you had now the upper hand. “I wouldn’t shoot if I were you. Wouldn’t want her to become my shield, right?”

The red head stood completely still, her green eyes on the oldest man of her companions. Bingo.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, old man. I swear I’m a good girl.” you pouted, still pressing the blade harder against the unknown girl’s neck.

“Ellie-“ he tried and come closer, but Ellie rose one of her hands, stopping him.

Ellie, Ellie, Ellie, Ellie, Ellie….

“Clever girl.” you muttered against her neck, and she hissed.

“You broke the chain?” she inquired and you chuckled.

“Not exactly.”

That when they all noticed. The hand that was holding the blade… It was broken, all bruised and bloody, shaking in pain but still ready to kill if the occasion called for it.

“You broke your hand?” the old man that had tried and step closer to help Ellie inquired, his eyes seeming shocked, even impressed by how far would you go to survive.

“Great, so the pops still has great sight.” you rolled your eyes, and he glared at you, his grip tightening around the gun. “You see… It was great. This whole cheap free hotel, nice food, comfortable floor to sleep…But I was getting pretty fucking tired of being your dog.” you shrugged. “So if you let me go… I promise not to bite.” you smiled, the threat on your eyes sending shivers down the spine of anyone that could ever lay eyes on you.

“You see… That was great.” Ellie suddenly said, and your hand shook against her neck. “The whole I’m so fucking crazy I’m gonna fuck up my hand and scape. But your plan is fucking stupid.” you frowned, but soon enough you were groaning when she suddenly grabbed your fucking hand and simply squeezed it, pain shooting down your spine.

In just a matter of seconds she had you pinned to the ground, your switch blade meters away scattered on the floor.

“You fucking bitch!” you seethed, trying to scape her hold, but she simply squeezed harder, digging her fingertips on your bruised and swollen skin.

“Oh, but I though the dog here was you, aren’t you?” your chest rose at her words, and before she could look away, you had spat on her face.

“Let me go.” you repeated, even if you knew you now were the one in trouble.

“Not until you tell me how you found us.” she answered, and you simply quieted down. “Answer me.” you cried out in pain when she twisted your wrist. The pain was making you see red.

“Ellie…”

“Shut it Dina.” she hissed, and you almost swore you could die when she banged your hand against the floor, making your head spin. “Answer me!”

“Joel!” you whimpered, breathy, sweat decorating your skin. “I came…, for Joel.” you muttered and the whole room fell silent. “And from that silence… I’m guessing it’s one of you, isn’t it? You two have aged since the last time I saw you… But I’d never be able to forget those names…” you smiled, and you saw her whole body stiffen up. “Even if it was years ago that he killed an entire hospital full of people just to save you, isn’t that right… Ellie?” her jaw tightened.

“Who are you?” the old man stepped closer, and you stared at him.

“Just the daughter of the surgeon that was supposed to cut her open.” you shrugged, and you shook when his finger pressed just the slightest against the trigger. “Woah, calm down pops. I’m not here to kill you, just to warn you that they’re coming after you.”

“Who? Who is coming after him?” Ellie inquired and your eyes were back on hers.

“Abby. My dear sister.” you scoffed, and moaned in pain when she tugged on your broken hand. “Fuck.”

“And why would you help us?” Joel spat, a visible frown on his face.

“Because you helped me first by killing that son of a bitch.” you answered. “And because she wants me dead too.”

-

You hissed and the woman simply sighed, finishing up with the bandaging of your broken hand.

“This… I don’t even have words for this. So you’re telling me that this group lead by… Abby, is coming after Joel to take revenge on him?” a man with brown long slicked hair sighed.

“How many are them?”

“About twenty.” you bit down on your lip when the curly haired tightened the bandages so your hand would be immobilized.

“Weapons?” Joel inquired, right beside the man who had just asked you. They looked similar. Maybe brothers.

“Guns, knives… Pretty much the same stuff you guys have.” you shrugged.

You could feel that pair of green emerald eyes burying into your skull from across the room, but you’ve decided just to ignore it and live peacefully with yourself.

“I still don’t understand it. Why would you make it all the way here to warn us?”

“I already told your, pops. Shit, you really need to check your hearing.” you rolled your eyes. “I’m just thanking you for killing my father that’s it.” you thanked the woman who you recall had been called Maria before when she had finished up with your hand.

“You’re… Thanking me.” you nodded. “For killing your father.” you nodded again and Joel blinked in confusion. “Why?”

“Why what?” you asked.

“Why are you thanking me for killing him? Shouldn’t you be siding up with your sister and coming after me?” you looked at him and then away, falling silent.

You got up from your seat and took your bag. They all watched you put your coat back on and push your gun on the back of your pants.

“Does it really matter? Just take the fucking help and try not to die.” you spat. It was obvious the venom and bitterness on your voice. “I’m done here. I’m leaving, probably to the other side of this fucking country to live in a farm or some shit until the day I peacefully die.” you pulled up the zipper of your coat. “I would say it was nice meeting you. But you treated me like pure shit, so I’d be lying.” you said before making your way towards the door.

“Wait.” Joel’s brother, now known as Tommy, interrupted your leave. “Why don’t you stay? At least for a couple of days, you’re safe here and they would find you. Once we take care of them, you won’t need to hide anymore and leave. At least let us thank you for helping us.” you stated at him, then at the rest.

“I don’t take charity.” you said. “I’ll leave now.”

“You really wanna go?” that was the first time you’ve heard her talk in hours. You could help but look at her, at her auburn hair, freckles and green eyes. “Since you’ve been in the same room for days, you might have not noticed the fact that we’re in the middle of a fucking storm.” and as if the world was trying to make a point, a loud bolt of lightning came crashing down the sky. How the hell hadn’t you heard those before? “And it will get much worse.”

You took a deep breath. Fucking hell.

After a few moments in silence you talked, sighing.

“Fine. But once it’s gone I am too. I’m not fucking staying for tea parties.” you spat.

And just like that, your cage had expanded from a room to the whole town.

-

Your hand hurt like hell. And you were fucking exhausted. But you couldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t sleep as long as she’d be there.

“Are your ever gonna put that thing down?” her green eyes met the switchblade on your hand.

You were back at her house, where Maria had placed you from the time being until she could find a clean and fixed place for you to stay.

“I think we both know the answer to that.” you answered, squinting your eyes, to what she rolled hers.

“Whatever. I’m gonna smoke. You enjoy your little psychotic breakdown.”

You watched as she made her way towards her side bed table and took a metal little box out of it before coming back to the salon, where the two of you had been sitting.

“Weed? Seriously?” you inquired, eyebrows rising when the smell hit your nose once she had opened the lid.

“I’d better be high if I’ll be sharing my house with you. It’s survival instinct.” she shrugged and you scoffed.

“Bitch.”

“That’s all? Damn, you really know where to hurt don’t you?” the sarcasm was palpable on her voice, and you rolled your eyes.

“Whatever.”

You two fell silent, and you simply stared at her roll the blunt with her slim yet long fingers, lick the paper to seal it and burn it just the slightest so it would have more firmness.

She took a big inhale once it was lit up.

You shrugged your jacket off, uncovering your shoulders and arms, more comfortable now on only your white tank top.

Ellie’s eyes landed on the exposed skin, the emerald shifting once she had took in the multiple scars that decorated them, along with your shoulders and back.

“Pretty aren’t they?” you sarcastically scoffed, and that’s when she noticed that she had been staring for far too long.

“Clickers?” she inquired, taking another drag of her blunt.

“My father.”

Her face fell, her breath hitched as you looked away.

“Let’s say I wasn’t his favorite.” you shrugged. “And that he was a fucking alcoholic with a lot of bad days.”

Ellie looked at you, silently, listening. She felt sorry for you. She never got to have a father, nor a biological one at least, but just to think about how your own blood could have done something as brutal as that to you…

“So now you might understand why I came here. How grateful I am to Joel for having ripped him out of my life. He saved me.” you muttered, still not looking at her.

Long minutes passed by in complete silence.

You two didn’t interact until she slowly but softly offered you her blunt. You rose your eyebrows before accepting it, taking a drag of it and slightly coughing.

“This shit’s strong.” you bitterly said, but still took another long and deep drag, already feeling slightly lightheaded.

“Why thank you. Appreciate it.” she smirked and your mouth slightly fell. “Best in Jackson.” you laughed at her confidence, your laughter filling and warming the room.

You offered it back to her, and as the time passed you two shared it in a deep silence.

Soon enough it went out, and Ellie got up, eyes tired and body heavy.

“Gonna go to my room. There’s more blankets on that basket in case you need ‘em.” you nodded. “Night.”

“Night.”

And with that you laid on the sofa, eyes unable to close. But it was okay. You couldn’t truly remember the last time your mind had been quiet enough to sleep. Ellie stood up all night as well. And the silence in between the two of you couldn’t be any more loud.

-

a/n; this has been sitting on my drafts for far too long. part two? 👀

ellie williams masterlist! <3

xxx

[wdcbox]

hot cocoa ⠀⠀⋆·˚ ༘ *⠀⠀dino beganovic.

pairing. dino beganovic x gn!reader.

word count. 1.3k.

summary. with a leap of faith, you decide to ask your friend dino to go out ice skating with you on a night you thought would be romantic. to your surprise, dino didn't know how to skate and it wouldn't be just him who failed poorly at it.

ellis’ addition. lil dino fic for the holidays <3 reblogs and comments are appreciated and requests are open! shout out to the lovely @lechrts ♡ had some issues posting this the past couple of days, so hopefully it works!

the air was crisp and invigorating, each breath a cloud of mist that danced in the fading light. the outdoor ice rink was a hub of activity, surrounded by towering evergreen trees dusted with fresh snow, their branches glimmering under the soft glow of lanterns. a light breeze carried the cheerful sounds of holiday music, the merry jingles of the tune blending seamlessly with the chatter and laughter that filled the air.

dino stood at the entrance to the rink, his heart racing slightly as he watched the smooth, glassy surface shimmer beneath the golden glow of the overhead lights. couples and families filled the ice, most of the crowd skating effortlessly without any help or assistance, dancing across the ice with such ease.

you laughed as dino stared out into the rink like a deer in headlights, a cloud of smoke puffing from his cold lips as he exhaled. ice skating with your friend was oddly romantic, and dino would have come to enjoy it more if it wasn’t for one thing: he didn’t know how to skate. 

“can’t we just go inside? sit down for a bit before we do this? have some hot cocoa?” dino tried to force out a laugh to convince you he wasn’t nervous out of his mind, his hands shaking at his side from either the cold or anxiousness. 

growing up ice skating provided you with a skill you had known since you were very young. you recalled acting as if you were the coolest person on earth when you could balance perfectly, your ego only growing larger when you learned to skate backward. whereas dino was talented in driving, you had your own special skills up your sleeve.

in his childhood, dino recalled going ice skating with his friends and family once or twice. pained memories of slipping on the ice or embarrassing himself in front of people because he was unable to balance was something that haunted him into his adult years. the activity was something he was never gifted at, so he swore to never step foot on the ice again until you came begging with puppy dog eyes. he just couldn’t say no to you when you looked like that.

“i promised you some hot cocoa and dinner afterward if you at least tried to skate,” you laughed, your blades already planted neatly on the ice as you stood up straight. despite your bribery, dino stubbornly shook his head from the outskirts, a laugh falling from his cold lips.

“you promise no shit pasta place this time if i do?” dino teased, raising a brow as he started to slip his gloves over his already reddened and frozen fingers. his action made you smile, a growing happiness filling your heart at the fact dino at least wanted to attempt to step on the ice no matter how nervous he was.

“i promise you – here,” you hummed, holding out your gloved hands so dino could take hold, giving him more encouragement and a shoulder to lean on as you slowly pulled him onto the ice.

dino’s feet shook underneath him as he took a leap of faith onto the ice, his grip on your hands instantly tightening which caused a small laugh to escape from your lips. grumbling under his breath, he shakily moved forward, decreasing the distance between the two of you. “there ya go,” you hummed, satisfied at his ounce of bravery as you slowly started to inch backward, pulling him along as you glided on the ice.

dino’s legs wobbled like a baby deer, a small woah escaping from his cold lips as his tried to maintain his balance. “i’m gonna let go of you, okay? i’ll be right here if you need my help,” you cooed calmly. “let go? i can barely stand up!” dino spoke frusturatedly, the pink blush of his cheeks prominent in the cold air.

“shh, calm down,” you laughed, shaking your head at dino’s words, “i’m not gonna let you fall.” you tried to convince him everything would be fine even though you thought his timidness was quite funny. dino drove cars that raced at high speeds, yet ice skating grew some sort of fear within him. dino let out another huff, and despite the persistent shake of his head, you let go.

skating backward a few feet away, you beckoned dino to follow, treating him as if he was a baby learning to walk for the first time. “i hate you,” he grumbled, knowing your patience would be the only way he survived this activity as he tried to move forward, the scratching sound of his skates knicking the ice.

the world around you faded away, leaving the moment as if it were just you and dino on the rink  — shouts from kids skating across the ice, the warmth of a nearby fire crackling, and the aroma of hot chocolate in the air dissipating as he remained focused. all that mattered at that moment was the patience you had shown him, your glimmering smile working as encouragement.

dino almost had it causing you to nod with happiness as he slowly glided his wobbly legs across the ice, your arms extended out as a form of support. a glimmer of hope washed over you as a smile decorated your face, he was finally doing it.

just as dino started to find his groove, another skater zipped by, his body instinctively flinching. with a look of surprise, his foot slipped, and before you could react, dino had grabbed onto your hands, pulling both of your bodies onto the ice.

for a moment, neither of you spoke, your breath clouding in the frosty air. a loud, hearty laugh escaped your lips, dino’s response being one of a grumble as he covered his face in utter embarrassment. then dino joined along as he started to chuckle, his voice warm and melodic against the winter chill.

“you okay?” you asked, brushing snow from your coat as you sat up on your bottom, now looking down at the tosseled man below you. dino huffed softly once more, pulling his hat back down to it’s original position before a smile tugged at his lips, “what do you consider ‘okay’?”

your laughter in return softened, and when your eyes met, the world around the two of you seemed to fade all over again. your face was close, your breath warm throughout the air, and for the first time all evening, dino forgot about how unsteady he felt.

“i guess i lied,” you teased, your calm words replaced by giggles after the embarrassing moment, “i did kind of let you fall – but i blame you – you pulled me down with you.” the snow fell softly, landing in what you could see of dino’s brown hair, and you found yourself smiling all over again.

dino’s heart skipped as he chuckled softly, the supid words falling from his lips with little hesitation, “maybe i don’t mind falling.” there was your laugh again, erupting in the cold of the night as dino sat up, now brushing the snow off his own coat in an attempt to clean himself up.

for a beat, the two of you stayed like that, the cold biting at your skin, yet warmth blooming between you. indistinctively, your eyes dropped to his cold and cracked lips, causing dino’s chest to tighten slightly once he noticed your gaze.

“you know,” you spoke up, your voice barely above a whisper, “we should probably get up before someone runs us over.” dino laughed softly, sniffling a bit from the cold, “you’re probably right.” but neither of you moved.

your lips curved into a smile, and for a moment, the fall of the snow began to stop. it was just the two of you, sat tangled on the ice, hearts racing in unison. despite your previous words, the two of you didn’t feel the need to gather your senses and get on your feet.

for once, for the first time that night, dino wasn’t afraid of falling.

[ninii-winchester]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 6)

Pairing: Boss!Dean Winchester X Assistant!Reader

Word count : 1.7k

Warnings: angst, foul language, not proofread.

A/n: I hate Mary more than I hate John🥰

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

After Castiel had left, Dean was left alone with his thoughts. He mustered up the courage to finally tell Y/n everything. He would tell her everything. He was overwhelmed, all his emotions came crashing into him at once. He was angry at his parents, ashamed in front of his lover, and ashamed at his own dilemma. With an uneasy feeling inside his chest, he called her inside.

Y/n stepped inside the room looking completely unbothered but Dean knew better, he knew she was keeping up a facade of being fine and he wanted nothing more than to take away all her pain.

"Yes, Mr.Winchester?" She said, her tone void of any adoration he was used to.

"Don't do that." Dean begged. "Please." Y/n stared at him blankly and he cleared his throat, standing up from his chair. She waited for him to speak with her arms crossed across her chest. He stopped in front of her. "There's something you need to know." He said softly and she scoffed.

"Isn't it a bit too early?" She asked sarcastically. "I thought you might want to wait until your wedding." She sneered. Dean knew he deserved everything she threw at him but he wouldn't deny that he felt a bit of anger and frustration build up, she's not even letting him explain.

"Will you let me talk, please?" Dean replied softly but she could tell there was an edge to his voice. She nodded reluctantly. He led her to couch placed in his office and sat down beside her. Taking in a deep breath, Dean spilled it all. He told her how his parents are forcing him to marry Rachel, he stood against it and his father threatened to kick him off his position, he even tried telling them that he has someone in his life but they wouldn't budge. Y/n listened to him intently, a soft gasp leaving her lips at the mention of Dean losing his position as CEO. She could tell he was conflicted, she felt bad for treating him the way she did but then again he hid it from her when she asked so its not completely her fault.

"Why did you lie to me when I asked you what happened at your parents'?" She asked softly, now something understanding the situation better.

"I thought I'd deal with it without you knowing, I didn't want you to worry, but then Rachel showed up and it all went to shit." Dean said remorseful. She nodded her head indicating she understood. She was quiet for a while and it killing Dean on the inside, he really wanted to know what she was thinking. "Please say something." He pleaded, when she didn’t speak he added. “Look at me.” He placed his fingers underneath her chin and made her look at him. “I love you, and I’ll talk to my parents again. It’s true I don’t want to choose between you and this job but if it comes down to it, I’ll choose you.” Dean said sincerely.

“I know.” She spoke airily, giving him a gentle smile she added, “but I don’t want you to.” Dean opened his mouth to speak but she shook her head. “If this this position would’ve been given to you just because it’s your father’s company, if I didn’t know how hard you’ve worked to get here. I would’ve asked you to choose me.” She said placing her hand over his cheek. “I can let you go knowing you love me with everything you have than have you resent me a few years down the line for making you miserable.”

“No, it won’t ever happen. This isn’t important. You are. You make me happy.” Dean argued and she smiled sadly at his at his attempt to convince her.

“Right now—yes.” She concluded. “A few years later, maybe not. Dean you’ve worked hard for this. This is your dream and I can’t take that away from you.”

“I don’t wanna lose you, please.” Tears pooled at his eyes at the thought of losing the one person he loves more than anything in the entire world. “I need you in my life.”

“You won’t. I’m right here.” She chuckled through her tears, gesturing to her workspace outside his office. He shook his head again. “I’m not going anywhere Dean.” The moment hung in the air, heavy with the weight of words exchanged. His eyes turned dark and intense and she felt her heart stutter in her chest.

The moment lingered, fragile and bittersweet, as they sat facing each other, the weight of what was to come pressing down on them. His eyes were soft, filled with a sadness she had never seen before, as if he were memorizing every detail of her face. Time seemed to still as he reached for her, his rough hand cupping her cheek, thumb brushing lightly against her skin. She leaned into the touch, his lips crashed into hers and it was as if the world fell away.

When his lips met hers, it was slow, achingly tender. There was no rush, no desperation—just a quiet sorrow that settled between them like a final farewell. His lips brushed against hers with a softness that made her heart ache, as though he was trying to pour every unspoken word, every unfulfilled promise, into that one moment. Their moment was broken when the door slammed open and a loud gasp was heard. They both quickly pulled apart and saw Rachel standing in the doorway. She looked upset at first but then her faced twisted in to a condescending smirk.

“Now I understand why men approach you, they know a skank when they see one.” Rachel sneered folding her arms across her chest. Dean stood from his place and walked closer to her.

“Apologise. RIGHT NOW.!” He growled menacingly and Rachel flinched a bit. Y/n quickly rushed to Dean’s side and placed a hand over his arm to calm him down.

“Get away from him you-“

“I swear to God, Rachel if you said anything to her, I will make sure you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” Dean threatened making the woman gulp in fear.

“Why the hell are you behaving like this? I’m your soon to be wife!” She yelled.

“No you’re not. You’re just some girl who I went to school with. I’ve never loved you and I never will.” Dean yelled back.

“I’ll make you fall for me once we’re married.” She replied.

“You’re delusional.” Dean snarked. “I love Y/n and only her. I’ll love her until my last breath.” With a huff and a nasty glare to towards Y/n, she left stomping her feet but not before adding,

“We’ll see about that.”

Dean turned to Y/n, holding her arms. “You okay, baby?” He caressed her skin, calming her. She nodded but Dean knew she was still shook up from what Rachel had said. He hates that woman so much. “Hey, I’ll talk to Dad. We’ll figure this out. I promise.” Dean knew if he went to his Dad he might be able to get out of this arrangement. His mother is kind of a control freak and he hates it. It was only Sam’s luck that he had crush on Jess even before Mary arranged them. There’s a possibility John might listen to him if Mary’s not present.

The rest of the day passed rather quickly, and Y/n back home. While Dean drove to his parent’s house. He had asked Sam to keep Mary away from home for a while, so Sam made up lie about Jess needing help with wedding preparations, that would keep her occupied for a few hours at-least.

“Dad.” Dean said entering the house and finding his father lounging on the couch. The old man wasn’t too happy to see his eldest son after the scene he’d created a few days prior.

“Dean.” He greeted back tersely.

“Dad, I need to talk to you.” The green eyed man stated, staring down at his father, and the latter raised his brow with curiosity. He gestured his son to sit and talk. “ I can’t marry Rachel. You have to understand. Mom wants me to settle down, fine! I will. But not with Rachel. Like I said that day, I have someone in my life.” Dean poured his heart to his dad and John was surprised to say the least.

“I thought you just it to get out of the arrangement.” John commented.

“Dad, I’m your son. I don’t just say things.” Dean sighed defeatedly. “I do have someone.” He added.

“You love her, son?” John questioned.

“More than anything, Dad. We’ve been together to three years and I proposed a few weeks back. She said yes. I came here to tell you about us and then mom dropped that bomb on me.” John was astonished at the revelation of Dean being engaged. He knew his son was a private person but he never expected him to keep his relationship a secret from his family.

“I didn’t know that.” John said, he didn’t wait for his son to reply and added, “I don’t know who she is but the question still stands though, Her or the company.”

“Her.” Dean declared without a second thought. There’s nothing he would choose over her. He’d been a fool to not realise it earlier but the more he comes closer to losing her—the more he realises he needs her more than anything. John smirked at his son, it was a test. It definitely was and he passed. If there’s anything John respects and adores most is true love. After all he went through all the sort of hurdles to marry his love, Mary.

“I’ll talk to your mother.” Was all John said but it was all Dean needed to hear. Even though the Winchester men were not the most emotional ones out there, in this moment Dean couldn’t help but hug his father. John patted his son’s back and Dean felt like he could finally breathe.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkess @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

@10ava01

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Love on Ice Chapter 10: The Hickey

One of my favorite chapters 😉 I hope y’all enjoy some tension 🫦 Another chapter will be posted Friday ❤️

35 days until Competition

It was one of those days where no matter how hard they tried, Azriel and Elain were not in sync. His entrance into the straight line lift was too slow. Her exit on the stationary lift was unsteady. Their two foot turns were sloppy. Everything about their program was uncoordinated, and the frustration had gotten the best of Elain. 

“I’m done for today,” She decided after another failed attempt at a smooth exit out of the stationary lift. Mama would have scolded her for giving up, barking that she stay on the ice until the move was perfected. She would have listened, too. “I’m going home.” 

“How? I drove you,” Azriel reminded her, firm hands on his hips as he watched her skate away. His tone was a bit more clipped than usual. Not only was her cold demeanor unpleasant, but the new hockey schedule had been weighing on his mind for the last few days  and he wasn’t sure how to bring it up. It wasn’t everyday that he was out of sorts, but he had his moments. Today was just one of them. 

The sway of her hips as she angrily glided across the ice temporarily suspended his irritation. She’d filled out over the years, growing into a body that was strong and shapely, wearing curves in all his favorite places. And maybe it was wrong of him to stare, but her legs were clad in bright blue leggings that left little to the imagination. He swallowed thickly, allowing himself a brief moment to take in the swell of her backside, the way it’d fit nicely in his hands and—.

“Well hurry up and take me home, please. I can’t stand to be here for a second longer.”

Even the attitude dripping from her voice wasn’t enough to kill any sensual thoughts about her ass in his palms. If anything, it spurred them on. Blood rushed to his cock as thoughts of her soft skin flooded his brain. While he was fully content to stand there and appreciate her body, he was more determined to uncover what had ticked her off.

In a swift motion, he skated over just in time to block her path to the ice door. Annoyance rippled off her form. Would it make things worse if he told her just how cute it was when her nose scrunched up? Probably. He’d do it another day, then. “You want to fill me in on what’s going on?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest. The black compression shirt strained across his body. Hard as it was, Elain willed her eyes to stay above his chest so she didn’t fall into a spiral of picturing the well defined muscles underneath the fabric. 

“Nothing is going on,” She said, a bit too quickly to be taken seriously. She turned the question on him, quirking a manicured brow. “Do you want to tell me what's going on with you?” 

“I asked you first.” 

“That is childish,” she scolded, mimicking his stance. 

“What’s wrong, Elain?” 

“Nothing, Azriel.” 

“What’s wrong, Elain?” He repeated, voice tinged in vexation.

Her eyes shifted to his neck. The mark was still there, fainter and covered by his chain, but it was visible and all that mattered is that she saw red. She bit out, “You have a girlfriend. That’s what’s wrong.” 

The second it left her mouth, she wished she could have taken it back. It didn’t sound like a mere observation or an innocent question. No, it sounded like pure jealousy. And Azriel had the audacity to look amused. 

“Okay. That came out wrong,” Elain explained hastily, palms outward in defense. “I don’t care that you have a girlfriend. I care that you didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t realize you were so hellbent on learning about my love life,” Azriel said, shoulder leaning against the protective glass boards. 

“It would’ve been nice to know,” Elain chided, hands on her hips. “I pride myself on being professional and respectful. I would never want to cause any issues between the two of you because we’re skating partners. So yes, you should have told me about her.”

Azriel licked his lips once, clicking his tongue in thought. “I have a girlfriend,” He reiterated slowly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his light gray joggers. “This is the first I’m hearing of her. Tell me, what’s her name? What’s she like?”

Elain’s eyes narrowed, shifting her weight to one leg. “Are you fucking with me right now?” 

Azriel hummed. “If I was fucking anyone right now it would surely be my girlfriend, but I don’t have a girlfriend, Elain. I haven’t had one for years.” 

Her spine straightened. 

Shocking. And…kind of unbelievable, given who he was and what he looked like. 

“Okay, fine,” her hands slapped against the sides of her thighs. “You met someone in the club, took her home, slept with her, and then kicked her out in the morning.” 

“I can assure you I’m a gentleman,” he said, hazel eyes darkening. His mouth twitched comically. “I offer breakfast in the morning because I usually like to go all night long. Works up quite the appetite.” 

Her cheeks flamed. “Is this funny to you?” 

“Oh, I’m having a great time,” Azriel answered truthfully, a grin dancing on his lips. “I finally think I figured out why you’re asking me all these nonsensical questions,” he pushed off the glass and came forward, his large frame towering over her as their chests brushed. Big as he was, she didn’t balk from him. Never him. “Elain Archeron…you want to be my girlfriend, don’t you?” 

What?!

“I–what? No, I do not want to be your girlfriend,” She emphasized, though her voice shook with every word. Forcefully, she rammed her finger into his neck. “What I want is to figure out why there is a hickey on your neck.”

Azriel paused, blinking owlishly. 

And then he laughed. 

He laughed long and loud and hard, almost doubling over on the ice. Dumbfounded, she watched his body shake gleefully. She figured she must have screwed up somewhere, because something was humorous and she felt like she was on the outside of an inside joke. Her skin burned each time he looked at her, huffing out smaller laughs as he began to settle. 

He pressed a firm kiss to her forehead and squished her cheeks, stating through his giggles, “That’s not a hickey, Elain. Cassian was fooling around during practice and accidentally shot a puck at my neck." 

If she didn’t want to disappear before, now she truly wished the ground beneath her feet would swallow her. Azriel’s teeth caught on his lip, watching twenty different emotions flicker on her face. 

“A…hockey puck,” She confirmed, unable to hide the quiver of her lips. This was funny. Oh, this was really fucking funny. “You got hit…in the neck…with a hockey puck.” 

He nodded, eyes sparkling.

And then they both erupted into another fit of laughter. Azriel pulled her into his body, dusting a kiss over the top of her head as she squeezed her arms around his waist. “Gosh, I sounded like an idiot.” 

He rubbed her back soothingly. “No, you sounded jealous.” 

Elain pulled away, gently pushing his chest.  “I was not jealous, Azriel. Jealousy implies feelings.” 

“Right, you don't do feelings,” He contended, rolling his eyes. 

“Exactly,” Not wanting to ruminate on the feelings she certainly didn’t have, Elain asked, “So, what was wrong with you today?” 

And it must have been bad, because she’d never seen him look so dejected. Almost as if he were contemplating whether or not to be truthful. Her heart dropped when he clasped her hands. “The championship hockey game is the same day as the competition.” 

Eleven of the worst words he could have uttered.

At the worst time, too, because her heart had finally started to feel lighter. 

One sentence, and Mama’s dream was wiped away for good. 

"It’s immediately after the competition," Azriel went on. "I can absolutely attend both. But Rhys…" A long, drawn out sigh. "He doesn’t want me doing the competition with you, in case I end up injured in a freak accident of some sort." 

“And I agree with Rhys. You need to go,” Elain choked out, voice wet as she peered up at his solemn face. It broke her heart. “You should only attend the game, Azriel. I can…figure something out." 

Dark brows furrowed. “Absolutely not. We’re doing the competition. Together.” 

She huffed, rolling her eyes now to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. “I can’t let you do this. If you were to get hurt during the competition and had to miss the championship game, I would never forgive myself." She skated back a step, ready to glide off the ice and curl up under a warm blanket. Anything was better than this. Standing here in pain, in such a terrible, unfortunate predicament. 

“Hey,” he twirled her back into his chest, gently gripping her hips to keep her in place. “You are not letting me do anything. I am a grown man who can make his own choices, and I am choosing to honor the commitment I made to you. Don’t try to talk me out of being there for you. The game is not my priority. You are." 

Heat pooled in her belly at the conviction in his voice. 

He was adamant. 

Strong and sure and unwavering in his choice. 

Prioritizing her. 

She’d never had that before. 

And if he could do that for her, choose her, then she could do something for him too. Her lips curled, one finger gently tracing over the black ink on the side of his throat. His pulse fluttered under her touch. “Well, it looks like I’ll be attending my first ever hockey game that day, too." 

Azriel’s smile lit up the rink. He took her hand from his neck, holding it by his side as they skated off the ice. He said to her softly, “I’d like that.” 

They shucked off their skates and packed up their bags, linking arms as they headed for the parking lot. Before they reached his car, Azriel smirked, “By the way, I think it’s only fair I ask you the same thing you asked me.” 

She paused, cocking her head in consideration. 

He bent down to her ear, breath hot on her skin as he whispered, “Elain, are you fucking anyone?” 

It was sinful coming from his mouth. And the look on his face was entirely feline. 

She pulled away to stare at him, cheeks flushed rose. “No,” she breathed. “I’m not.” 

But two more words echoed in her head, ones she didn’t dare utter out loud. 

Not yet. 

ARTWORK FOR THE CHAPTER BY @chachachai17: Here

DIVIDER BY: @saradika-graphics

[starrayblogs]

The Cowboy Ropes in A Bunny || Striker x Reader

pairings: striker x reader

tags: this fic contains slow burn, strangers to lovers but at the same time fuck buddies, and is not canon compliant. the reader has a name and set appearance. this fic is also 18+ mdni!

others: this is cross-posted on my ao3! so if you'd like, you can read it there too :) this is my first time writing something like this, so i would love to hear your feedback! reblogs and likes are appreciated :3

Chapter 1: A Bump on The Road

this chapter contains: light nsfw topics. mdni!

Rabbit Imps. One of the lowest ranking succubi from the Lust Ring, often seen in lower-end strip clubs where broke, horny demons can go for a cheap fuck.

Rabbits, famously called ‘Buns’, are around the same height as Imps. Their fur can range from one shade of white until black, but some buns come with spots across their body. Their scleras are red, irises are different shades of fainted pink, and pupils are white. They have small horns on the top of their head, while their ears hang lower by the sides of their face. Buns’ faces are generally round and small, paired with whiskers at the cheeks. Rabbits have three fingers and one thumb, each finger with padding underneath. Lastly, a Bun’s body type ranges from whatever the client prefers.

Since they’re so low on the class of succubi, they do and take anything it takes to make a living. Sex sells, don’t it?

So, here’s a day in the life of one of the most famous camgirls in all of Hell—you.

“Seeker…” You murmur the username as you play with the rim of your glass with your teeth.

You had just finished one of your streams and were checking the donations as you replenish your energy. ‘Seeker’ was, as usual, one of the top donors from your audience. He was a sweet talker, praising you with affirmations and calling you sweet names every time he ‘spoke’.

You remember when he first became part of your audience.

You were warming up the stream with subtle, dirty talk that was leading to a roleplay you had planned— when your notification blew up with his username.

‘Cut with the foreplay, sweetheart. I wanna see how pretty you bounce.’ It read—next to the highest amount of money you had ever received at the time.

You were so surprised. Then, to treat your new viewer as a thanks, you changed up the plan and pace.

He gave you another donation when you came in front of the camera with his name rolling off your tongue as a special mention.

He’s been in every stream of yours since.

It’s safe to say that he’s one of your sweetest donors too. Your service doesn’t just provide live performances, but you do pre-recorded personalized requests.

Seeker has asked for personal videos of you. He always asks sweetly in his messages. You remember the time he wrote that he wouldn’t even withdraw his money if you turn down one of his requests if it was too much to ask for.

You hum at the thought of him again.

Then, you shut your laptop and begin to remove the Ozzie-knows-what stained sheet off your bed. It’s a thick waterproof sheet that you put on your bed whenever you stream so you don’t have to wash your sheets every time. One of your favorite purchases.

You clean up the rest of the room and store your toys where they belonged. You take a shower to freshen yourself from all the sweat and sticky substance on your fur.

You step out the shower with your robe and walk over to tour vanity. You take a seat and look at yourself. You smile in the mirror.

There is a stereotype about Buns in the Lust Ring. It is said that because they are considered cheap fucks, many demons think they come with cheap looks. Though, it is the complete opposite.

You had short, soft fur. You were mostly white but the ends of your ears fade to black, your nose and tail is snowed with a bit of black, and, your favorite, your lower abdomen has a black patch that looked almost like a heart.

Your scleras were deep red, irises were a gray-pinkish hue, and your pupils were white. You have long, thick black eyelashes. You have two whiskers on each side of your cheek.

You were midsize, not skinny but just a bit chubby. Though, your cheeks are very plump compared to other Buns. Your hair is white, the length until just below your breasts.

You finished your skincare, confident with how you look. You pat your cheeks gently before standing up to walk to your cabinet. You put on something simple for the night, since you had plans to do grocery shopping.

You grab your bag and phone before putting on your shoes. You lock the door and leave your house after making sure to double check everything. You place your earbuds in and make your way to the supermarket.

You arrive no later than 15 minutes and take a grocery cart for your things. You get the necessities and a few treats for yourself before helping yourself through self check-out.

While you do have confidence in your looks, you don’t have much faith in your strength. Like most Buns, your physical strength wasn’t something to be amazed with. It was average, and it’s not like you went to the gym. You work up enough sweat doing your job already.

As you grip the heavy bags in your hand, your pace has significantly dropped. You walked slower now and as you were about to step outside, someone had collided into your side. Not having seen them, you stumble and fall onto the floor.

You wince at the impact and let go of the grocery to massage your back. Your pain quickly turned into annoyance as your head diverts to the demon who bumped into you.

“Ah, shit. Pard’n me, miss,” it says in a gruff voice.

You didn’t have the chance to look at who bumped into you, because the demon had bent down to the floor to collect your groceries. What you found weird was that it was wearing a cowboy hat.

‘A Wrathian?’ You think to yourself as you slowly reach to remove your earbuds and place them in your bag. “It’s… fine.” You reply, reaching out for any spilt groceries to place them back inside. “Just be careful next time,” You caution the demon while shrugging your shoulder.

It chuckles and moves to raise its head. You blink as you process his features.

He has pale-red skin. His features are sharp, but not intimidating. Though, rather intriguing. His scleras are a pale yellow with dark yellow-green rings surrounding his slit pupils. He has a small, black mustache accompanied with a gold fang sticking out of his sharp grin.

You didn’t see the way he looked at you briefly with shock when your eyes met.

“Didn’t mean to bump into you, miss. I was in a rush and I wasn’t payin’ attention of what’s ahead o’ me,” He explains, reaching down to grab a few of your grocery bags.

“Oh!” You blink your eyes as you watch him stand up. “Thank you for that.” You pick up the remaining bags as your other hand gestures to the ones in his. You stand up alongside him.

“My pleasure… and apologies,” He chuckles deeply, holding onto his cowboy hat.

You take a good look at him. He is definitely an imp, but he’s more on the tall side. His lower body is thinner compared to his broader upper body. He has short, messy ivory hair that cups his cheeks. His horns were the same color and pointed upwards.

You look down further and notice his tail is different from most imps you’ve seen. He has a long tail with black strips at the tip, but what really caught your eye were the spikes you could slightly peek at the base of his tail.

When you look back up, your guess that he is a Wrathian is further enforced with how he dressed up like a cowboy.

“Need any help carryin’ these ‘ome?” His offer breaks you out of your thoughts.

You blink up at him and smile politely. “Oh, that’s fine. You said you were in a rush anyway,” You reply, going to reach out for your groceries.

But he pulls his hand away.

“I was just in a rush to get home, but I don’t mind spendin’ a few minutes longer to help you,” He assures you. One of your ears twitch a bit, and you think for a few seconds.

It wouldn’t hurt to have someone else carry your groceries for today. Like, he did bump into you hard enough for you to fall.

“Well, alright.” You shrugged your shoulders. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“You can give me the other bags. Just lead the way back to yer place, pretty lil’ bun.” He offers his other hand out for you to hand him the groceries in your hand.

Your nose crinkles at the nickname. You hum slowly as you look at his hand. “Don’t call me that.” You raise a brow as you look up at him through your lashes.

His eyelids raise for a moment before it relaxes. “Pard’n me. So, just ‘miss’?” He hums at the end of his question.

Your brow relaxes and you hand him the rest of your groceries. “That’s good,” you tell him. “Ah, uh, thank you. Again.” Your attitude slips away for a second as you watch him adjust the bags in his hands.

“It’s nothin’. This hardly weighs a thing.” He demonstrates by casually swaying the bags in his hand without trouble. “Lead the way, miss.” He tips his nose forward to signal that you two should walk.

“Right,” you said, “I’m this way.” You turn your body back to the direction of your apartment.

It’s a quiet walk at first. You’re only walking a few steps ahead, but he has to take the smallest steps for you to keep staying ahead. This was your first time seeing an imp as tall as him. You’re curious.

“You’re from the Wrath Ring, right? What brings you down here to Lust?” You tilt your head a little in his direction, but it’s your eyes that, mainly, move to look at him.

“Long story…” He bites his lip for a second. “Let’s just say I was doin’ a favor for someon’.” He grunts. He looks down at you, but you evade his eyes by looking back forward.

You hum at his response.

“I see,” you said. “Well, welcome to the Lust Ring—where the most action you can get is helping a Rabbit with her groceries.” You make yourself giggle with your own joke, but your ear twitches at the sound of his husky chuckle.

“Real funny, miss.” He said, glancing down to meet your eye at the right time. You keep contact this time before looking away a few seconds later.

You take a turn and point to the building ahead. “That’s me.” You say, watching him look where you’re pointing.

He blows a low whistle. “Tall buildin’ you live in, miss,” he comments. “Bet you got a real, nice job down here.” He raises a brow with a small smirk.

You shrug your shoulders as you fetch for your keys in your bag. “You could say that.” Your tail flicks itself behind you, feeling cheeky about how he was correct. You did have a nice job.

You walk up the steps to the door and hold the door open for him to step inside. The two of you take the elevator up to your floor.

You lead him to your apartment door and hop your way to the opposite side of him. “Well,” you smile. “Thank you again for carrying my groceriesss..?” You realize you haven’t caught his name.

“Striker. The name’s Striker.” He lifts his hat briefly before setting it back down. “You, miss?”

You smile and tilt your head to the side as you introduce yourself. “My name’s Velvet.”

“Pretty name for a pretty woman, eh?” Striker chuckles and you giggle this time. You feel your cheeks flush a little, but dismiss it.

“Thank you, Striker.” You tell him. “Well, you can drop the groceries out here,” you motion to space in front of your door, “I’ll be bringing them inside myself.”

“Alright, miss.” His eyelids shut in agreement momentarily before setting down the bags. You both stand there for a few seconds of silence until you speak up.

“It was nice meeting you, Striker.” You smile.

“Same goes for you,” he chuckles. “I’ll be headin’ on home now.” He waves his hand while tucking his other into his pockets.

You hum before returning the gesture. “Well, get back safe.” You give him a small smirk “No more bumping into any more demons, alright?” You tease.

He snickers as he shakes his head, murmuring ‘yeah’s afterwards. “I’ll take note o’ that, pretty.” Your tail twitches at the nickname. “See you around.” He waves his hand again and you wave back with a smile.

You watch him turn the corner for the elevators before unlocking your door. You haul in your grocery bags one by one and take off your shoes once you were done.

You slip on your slippers and carry the bags further into your house. You were about to change out of your clothes until you remembered you hadn’t closed your blinds yet.

You walk over to your window to quickly pull the curtains closed, and just miss him.

Striker, having watched you close your curtain in the shadow of a nearby dumpster bin. His eyes followed as the silhouette of you backed away from the window, he guessed so that you could unpack your groceries.

[stayxlix]

off the deep end. (04)

~(part four) the eighth~

pairing: rebel!felix x reader (f)

genre: non-idol au, post-apocalypse/dystopian au. wc: 15.7k

series rating: 18+ **minors do not interact**

chapter warnings: violent mature themes, explicit description of murder/death, explicit sexual content, implied unprotected intercourse, alcohol use/intoxication, oppressive government, brief mention of parent death, traumatic past/abuse, fighting, weaponry (knife use), stabbing, injury, blood, angst, language, please lmk if i missed any!

a/n: thank you so so much to everyone who has been waiting patiently for this update. :) i truly appreciate every single one of you and im so excited (and a little nervous) to finally be putting this out there so as always any feedback, likes, and reblogs are more appreciated than you know. i hope you enjoy.♡♡

~series masterlist~

There are people you will always be drawn to, for you were made from the same clusters of stars. There are parts of you that are made from them as well, and that is what keeps drawing you in. Like gravity. You will come across many soulmates in your current lifetime. But that doesn't mean you will get to keep them.

Felix gripped the handles of the bike with white knuckles. He’d taken the same route so many times before that he could've made it back to District 6 with his eyes closed, but he kept them wide open tonight.

For as long as he could remember, Felix had always made a point to appreciate the night sky. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing much to admire about it during the daytime. Nothing special about thick gray clouds—ominous and foreboding. And on days when the sun did decide to make an appearance, it was harsh. It invited him to stay underneath it, blanketed in warmth, until it burned. 

Much like Felix himself, who had a habit of turning everything good in his life to ash.

But not the moon. The moon was the exact opposite of Felix. Peaceful and gentle, and he'd spent so much time looking up at it that he may as well have memorized each individual surrounding constellation of stars.

Out of all of the memories he'd ever made, Felix had pushed most of them away. He buried them so deep that sometimes, he wondered if he would even be able to recall them if he tried.

As for the few worthwhile moments in his life, Felix liked to remember those by the way he felt underneath the moon. Like the night he met Chan, when he looked up at it from District 2 with an overwhelming sense that his life had been forever changed. 

He had been right, of course. All of the moments worth remembering came after Chan.

Like the night he and the others had nearly given up. Exhausted, starving, half-alive, until they wandered into District 6 and came across what would come to be the closest thing to a home that he had ever known.

That is, until he realized that home could be another person. 

Or seven. 

He would never forget the foreign emotion that washed over him the first night after they'd found Yellow Wood, when he looked to the moon from the rooftop surrounded by seven soul mates.

He held onto the small sense of comfort provided to him by the moon, because it was always there. When he'd had nothing else, when he'd had less than nothing, it was always there. To remind him of the few nights that made it all worth it.

When he looked to it tonight, Felix felt like an entirely different person. Maybe he was different. Almost as if he'd discovered a newfound sense of purpose with your arms wrapped tightly around him like your life depended on it.

Were you afraid?

Maybe he should slow down.

It’s not like your father's guards would have any chance to catch up to them tonight, anyway. If all had gone to plan, before the others had caught fire to the ground windows of the palace using Jeongin's homemade "thunder bombs", as he called them, they would have gone to slit the tires of your fathers military vehicles. At least, as many as they could without drawing attention.

A "distraction" Chan had called it.

Felix thought his own personal addition to the plan was more along the lines of genius, actually. Chan was an excellent leader. Righteous, honest, and hard-headed in all the best ways. Near faultless, if it weren't for his tendency to let his ambition get the best of him. He wasn’t careless by any means, just needed to slow down sometimes.

Felix gradually released his death grip on the throttle.

He expected you to loosen your own grip around him at the slight decrease in speed, but to his surprise, you only held him tighter. Your hands linked firmly at his waist. 

Felix didn't understand you.

You'd been born with everything anyone could ever need. An endless supply of food (that probably tasted good), a warm place to sleep, water to drink and to bathe in, all underneath the promise of guaranteed safety. A luxury that only a handful of people in the entire world would ever come to know.

And yet, you had willingly chosen to leave it all behind. 

Sure, Felix may have risked his own life to follow Chan and the others into the fight against your father, but he had nothing to lose. 

If he'd been born in your place, he didn't know if he would have made the same choice. Chan would've. Without a doubt. And Felix liked to think that he would too, but for what? The mere chance to repair a broken society made entirely of people that he didn't even know? Most of whom didn't even deserve it, as far as he was concerned. 

Not everyone was as good-natured as Jeongin or as loyal as Changbin. Not everyone had as much to offer as Minho, who was beyond skilled in his knowledge of healing. 

Felix envied them, and he couldn't help but wonder if you would think he deserved it, if you knew the things he'd done in his life. The choices he had been forced to make. Where he went sometimes, while the others were asleep. Where he went last night. Before he returned to the tavern with bloody knuckles. 

He wondered if you would ever kiss him again the way you did before, if you knew. If you would ever say his name again, or the nickname you had so casually thrown out moments earlier, when you were agreeing to put your life in their hands. 

In his hands.

No. 

He couldn't do this right now. He needed to focus.

And so, just as easily as you'd slipped your way back into his head, Felix forced you out. Something he had been doing a lot of, lately.

More than he cared to admit.

Instead, he allowed his thoughts to drift to the only other thing on his mind. A conversation that had taken place earlier this morning upon his return to Yellow Wood after dropping you off outside the palace gates.

Underneath the rising sun, after throwing the tarp back over his bike and refilling it with fuel from their quickly depleting supply, Felix had reluctantly made his way toward the front of the building. He was already dreading the discussion that Chan had promised him before he left with you. Although, when he pushed open the front doors, he was surprised to find someone else waiting for him there instead. 

“I thought you were Chan,” he muttered as Hyunjin looked up at him from where he sat at the foot of the staircase that split the room down the middle. It resembled the staircase in the grand hall of the palace, where they'd hung the banners the night of the raid. Except, like everything else beyond District 9, Yellow Wood was nothing more than a skeleton of what it had once been. Frail, decaying, and worn down from hundreds of years worth of neglect.  

Hyunjin didn't reply. He only glared with the same piercing intensity as earlier tonight, when Felix had been standing next to you. 

Alright, then.

If Hyunjin didn't want to talk about whatever was obviously bothering him, that was fine with Felix. He hadn't been in the mood for one difficult conversation in the first place, let alone two. Not to mention the fact that he was exhausted, and only just now starting to notice the throbbing sensation in his face where the bruises lie. 

Felix took a few steps into the main floor where he would (hopefully) be able to find one of Jisung's stashed liquor bottles and avoid Chan for the rest of the night.

“He's upstairs, on the rooftop I think."

Hyunjin dared to break the silence, and although Felix wasn't facing him anymore, he could still feel where his eyes bore into the side of his head.

“Great.”

He should have known Chan would be waiting for him there. All the more reason for Felix to stay down here. He took a few more steps but it didn't deter the older boy from speaking again from behind him.

“You’re fill of shit if you think she's on our side."  

There it was.

Hyunjin had never been very good at hiding the things that bothered him. At least, not from Felix. 

Never from Felix. 

And of course it was about you. He should have known. 

Felix reluctantly turned around when he heard Hyunjin step down from the staircase behind him. He should have ignored him. He knew how Hyunjin could be, he wanted to get a rise out of him.

He shouldn't have responded, but like always, Felix was unable to resist. "It doesn't matter if she is or not. You saw the journal. We don't have a choice." 

"I saw the way she looks at you. The way you look at her. It matters." Hyunjin spit out each individual word as if they offended him personally.

Felix closed his eyes, tilting his head. Did he really just hear that right? 

The way you look at him?

The way he looks at you? 

"I don't know what you're talking abou—"

"Please," Hyunjin scoffed, "that might work on Chan but you can't pull that shit with me. She'll never be one of us. Its in her blood, Felix. Just remember that. Remember what we all agreed on, before you get too attached."

Hyunjin always knew what Felix was thinking. Even before Felix knew what he was thinking, he always knew. And now, he was only repeating what Felix’s own mind wouldn't let him forget. The same thought that had been replaying over and over again in his head since he'd seen that damn family crest around your neck. He was well aware that you would never be one of them. He didn't need the reminder. 

Even if he did, he didn't want it.

Hyunjin shifted. He crossed his arms over his chest and then, he added something that made Felix's blood boil. "Minho says we might as well get rid of her the second we get into Miroh," he raised a taunting eyebrow as the words fell from his lips, a hint of amusement in his voice. Hyunjin leaned against the bannister of the staircase, cloaked beneath golden light that perfectly matched his golden hair as it fell in through the windows above. To anyone else, he would have looked incredibly intimidating. 

But not to Felix. Never to Felix. "Fine by me," he snapped. 

"You don't look at her like it would be fine by you," the smirk that had been playing at the corners of Hyunjin's mouth finally made its way across his lips. As if he had caught Felix in some sort of lie.

With no desire to entertain him any further, Felix turned on his heels to leave the older boy alone once again.

So what if it wasn't really fine by him. What was it of any concern to Hyunjin, the thoughts that ran through his head. 

So what if he wanted to find Minho right this second and strangle him for his words. Even if he wasn't quite sure why.

So what if he liked the way you looked at him, with your pretty eyes and your lips swollen and parted after he'd kissed you. So what if he wanted to know how you looked with your lips wrapped around his cock, instead.

Felix wasn't like Jisung, who could charm his way into convincing whatever semi-interested human being he stumbled across in god knows where to fuck him. Not that it mattered. Felix didn't care to do those things. Or at least, he hadn't cared to do those things..Until you.

But you were beyond stunning, anyone could see that. Even Hyunjin, who’s own eyes had lingered a little longer than they should have on your figure tonight.

And Felix was human too, wasn't he? Even if just barely.

But for whatever reason, Hyunjin appeared to be under the impression that there was something more in the way Felix looked at you. As if he would actually care if something happened to you. As if he would grieve anything other than your pretty eyes and the way they looked at him. 

You don't look at her like it would be fine by you.

Somehow, Hyunjin always knew.

You clung to Felix as the bike raced over hills, across open fields, and through dirt roads when he had no choice but to take you down them. Crippling guilt began to consume your thoughts at the realization that soon, everything in your sight would be up in flames because of you. Your father would literally burn down every single obstacle that stood in his way of finding you because you were the only other person alive who had access to whatever lie beneath the earth in District 2. And if you were being honest, it hadn’t really occurred to you until this very moment that there might not be a world left for you to save after he was through with it.

You strengthened your hold on Felix when the bike slowed, afraid of what would happen once it stopped. Terrified for this moment to end because once it did, you would be forced to come to terms with the permanence of the decision you had made tonight, and what it meant for not only your future, but the future of every innocent person that you passed by, sleeping soundly without any idea that a war had just begun.

You buried your face in Felix's back as the wind whipped through your hair, squeezing your eyes shut when you sensed the cover of trees above you. You felt the bike incline and when it leveled at the top of the hill, you opened them. Breathing a sigh of relief as Yellow Wood came into view. At least the part of you that feared you might not even make it this far could relax now.

Felix slowed the bike again, coming to a stop around the side of the building. You lifted your head from his back, unlocking your fingers from around his waist despite how badly you wanted to keep them there.

But reality couldn’t be avoided forever.

You had found that out far too long ago. 

You stretched as he threw the tarp over the bike. And then, to your surprise, he left your side without a word. Heading toward front of the building. 

“Shouldn’t we wait for the others?”

“They won’t be far behind,” he answered without looking back. After brief consideration, you settled on following him inside. Partly because the surrounding forest had become far more intimidating at the thought of facing it alone. But that wasn't the only reason.

"I know its not what you're used to," Felix spoke over his shoulder as he pushed the doors open. And he was right, stepping across the border into Yellow Wood was like throwing yourself into another world. It was so unlike the palace that was always buzzing with activity, which was ironic considering the number of lives that had ended just outside the front doors.

The area inside was massive, with a ceiling that stretched up to the heavens. Silver moonlight fell through ornate windows above, cloudy with time. The atmosphere was thick with dust and the floor was covered in leaves and muddy footprints. Dirty, but obviously frequented.

The surrounding space was empty, save for a few stray belongings here and there. A tattered backpack, a water canteen that lie empty on its side, a worn out pair of shoes, things that someone from District 9 wouldn’t consider to be of any value at all.

Things that just might mean the difference between life and death to someone out here, which you had a feeling you would soon come to find out for yourself.

You increased your pace, having fallen behind while taking it all in. Each step you took echoed throughout the hollow room, and when Felix spoke, his voice did the same. “We usually sleep upstairs, except for Minho who's pretty much claimed the main floor as his because he hates heights…And sometimes Jisung, who just likes to be wherever Minho is.”

It came as a bit of a shock to you that Minho could be afraid of anything at all, considering the bone-chilling glare he had given you last night. It was even more surprising that Jisung, who had been so welcoming, with such a warm presence, could have anything in common with Minho and his icy aura.

Body still buzzing with adrenaline, you shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, hoping Felix wouldn't notice them shake. You stayed close as he made his way over to a large staircase in the middle of the room. It reminded you of the staircase in the grand hall, and the magnitude of everything that had happened tonight began to creep its way back into your mind.

It felt like you shouldn't have been here, probably because you didn't belong here. You were an outsider. They referred to the decrepit space around you as their home while you had spent the entirety of your life sleeping on feather pillows and satin sheets. 

Still, all things considered, it had taken a lot less convincing than you thought it would to get from your feather pillows to this point.

Although Felix had made sure to remind you of his reluctance to trust you at every single chance he got (when his lips weren’t preoccupied by yours) he also hadn't hesitated to bring you to meet Chan the very next day after you'd shared your first real conversation with him.

And Chan had been more than willing to let you in on their biggest secrets—Miroh and your father's journal—just moments after he’d learned your name. Almost as though he'd had his mind made up about you before he ever even knew about the blood requirement.

Realistically, it had almost been a little too easy to get to where you stood now. You were good with your words, you'd put everything you had into explaining yourself to them, but nobody was that convincing.

It was evident that they'd made allies inside the palace before, but you were quite literally the offspring of the man that had sculpted this world into his own personal hell. With a little help from the generations of your bloodline before him. Which meant that they should have been a least a little bit more hesitant, right? And although Felix had very clearly expressed his apprehension with words, when you really thought about it, his actions said otherwise. He had actually been putting trust in you from the very beginning, you had just been too caught up in everything to realize it. 

So then, why?

Why had it been so easy to convince them?

Why hadn't they questioned you further?

"Why were they so quick to let me in?"

Every muscle in your body froze when a voice shattered the silence.

Your voice.

Had you just said that out loud? 

You winced, blaming the mess of disordered thoughts in your head for allowing the words to slip right out past your lips. Eyes trained forward, you hoped that maybe the thoughts in Felix's own head were so loud that he hadn't even heard you.

As if you would ever be so lucky.

"What do you not understand about the fact that they didn't have a choice?" his tone was stern. The small glimpse of tenderness that he'd shown you earlier tonight, when he wiped the tear from your cheek, was long gone.

He stepped up onto the landing at the top of the stairs, taking a sharp turn down the hallway with you still following behind, a little less closely now. "When we realized the journal was missing the final pages, it was like we'd just lost a war we would never even get the chance to start. So don't get the wrong idea, princess. Chan didn't want to let you in, but he didn't have a choice. And just because things have worked out until now doesn't mean he trusts you. It doesn't mean they trust you, and it certainly doesn't guarantee that they ever will." 

"Well it didn't take you very long to change your mi—"

What was with you tonight?

You bit your tongue to keep from finishing the sentence, although it was obvious what you were implying.

You shouldn't have said it. You didn't mean to say it, but apparently you weren't in control of filtering your words tonight. Probably because everything in your head was messy and confusing, and your feelings for Felix were even messier and more confusing, not to mention the fact that you had been on the verge of mental collapse for not only the past twenty four hours but possibly your entire life...So if you could just find some way to quickly summarize all of that to him then maybe he would be willing to forget the comment you'd so carelessly made.

Felix froze immediately upon registering what you'd said, his sudden stop in movement causing you to stumble into his back. You opened your mouth to speak but when he turned around, you realized it wouldn't have mattered if you'd been given all the time in the world to explain yourself. 

Like flipping a switch, the familiar darkness returned to his eyes.

You backed up until your shoulder blades hit the wall behind you, causing you to jump. 

"Did you not hear anything I said before?" he took a few steps closer, inviting himself into your personal space once again. "What makes you think I've changed my mind about you?" 

Oh, I dont know. The fact that you can't seem to keep your tongue out of my mouth?

"I..I just thought—"

You swallowed.

His eyes narrowed.

And you lost your ability to speak all over again.

Even if you had meant to say it, would it really have been so wrong to entertain the idea that he might have changed his mind about you? 

After all, every time you'd kissed, he had been the one to initiate it. When he came to collect the supplies tonight, you may have been the one to pull him into your arms, but he embraced you back. Whenever he called you princess, the nickname rolled off of his tongue like honey. 

Felix was the king of sending mixed signals, and you had half a mind to call him out for it, if you could just focus long enough to form a coherent sentence. But as always, for reasons you still couldn't quite understand, you lost all composure when it came to the freckled boy standing in front of you now.

Felix brought his hands up to rest against the wall on either side of you, closing you in.

You traced his freckles with your eyes, counting them to distract yourself from the thoughts that ran through your head, and the throbbing sensation between your legs when his breath fell hot against your lips. 

Felix was decent at making himself appear threatening when he wanted to. You should have been intimidated, but unfortunately for him, it had quite the opposite effect on you. The false sense of danger was incredibly enticing—arousing even, because you knew, or at least you thought you did in that moment, that he would never actually hurt you. 

If only you could just stay in control and refrain from thinking with your pussy for five fucking seconds, something that had been proven to be nearly impossible whenever you were alone with him. Especially when you could literally see it in his eyes that his own desires were just as corrupt as yours.

Felix leaned down, allowing his lips to brush against yours agonizingly slow before pulling back to speak. "What makes you think I'm not just using you like the rest of them? What makes you think I won’t turn on you in a second if I have to, to protect what’s mine?" 

Mine. 

He drew out the last word, voice coarse and low and thick with that damned accent, and suddenly you had never needed anything quite as badly as you needed to become something that Felix considered his.

No. You needed him to make you his, in every possible way.

Screw holding back. Why couldn’t you be the one to send a few mixed signals yourself? Its not like your relationship with him was ever very stable to begin with. It's not like your mental status ever had much of a chance at surviving any of this, either.

You brought a hand up to push a stray piece of long, black hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear. It was soft and had grown quickly, even longer now than the first time you'd met not so long ago. The hand you used to push back the loose strand became tangled in the locks at the back of his neck. You tugged, because you knew he liked it, pleased when the action earned a deep grunt from somewhere within his chest.

If you couldn't keep yourself in control tonight then you would at least be the one to decide how you lost it. 

You pulled at his hair until he hissed at the pain. And then, you leaned in. Glancing up at him through hooded eyes, you spoke, barely above a whisper. “You’re obviously torn. Let me help you.” 

And before he had the chance to respond, it was you who moved to close the space between your lips.

For the first time, it was you. 

You grabbed his wrists, pulling them down and shifting your bodies so that you were now the one pinning him against the wall. You put all of your frustration into the kiss. Frustration over his confusing mixed signals and his perfect fucking lips and the fact that you just couldn't shake the feeling that he and the others had secrets that you didn't even begin to understand.

The others. Right.

"Felix—" you broke the kiss to remind him of their impending arrival, but he only took your momentary distraction as an opportunity to take hold of your waist and push you back against the wall, reclaiming control.

Felix was well aware that they could be here at any second. 

He just didn’t care. 

He pulled you back into a deliberate kiss, pressing himself up against you once again. The obvious bulge in his pants becoming harder to ignore.

“Say it again. My name princess,” he growled against your lips. And suddenly, the others were so far gone from your mind that you couldn't even remember their names.

In your head there was only one name and you made sure to draw out every single syllable when you said it for a second time.

“Maybe you don’t trust me, Felix. But I think you want to. More than you’d like to admit.”

And with that, you abandoned all restraint, allowing your needy hands to fall down to his belt. You let out a frustrated sigh into his mouth, fiddling with the clasp that was unlike anything you had ever come across on the clothing worn in the palace. Felix reached down to help, ensuring that your lips stayed connected the entire time.

As soon as the clasp was released and his zipper was undone, you slipped a hand down the front of his jeans to palm his rock hard length. He breathed out a low, guttural moan into your mouth that had you absolutely aching for him.

Every rational thought that popped into your head was consumed by the overwhelming need to have him inside of you right then. And you would have gotten everything you wanted and more, if it weren't for the sound of footsteps, voices, and two very heavy doors closing downstairs.

“Fuck,” he growled.

You couldn't have said it better yourself, seeing as this was now the second time you'd been so cruelly interrupted. Although this time, you were remarkably more flustered than the last—embarrassingly so. The wet spot in your panties having soaked through the thin material long before your lips had even touched his.

Felix drew back as the others entered the building below. A thin line of saliva connected your lips and you let out a defeated sigh.

The throbbing emptiness between your legs would have to wait. Again.

Panting heavily, Felix pressed his sweaty forehead against your own. It had taken every single fiber in his being to keep from touching you again, when all he could think about was bending you over and fucking you right there against the wall, until you cried pretty tears of pleasure from your pretty, pretty eyes.

His cock was painfully hard, but he didn't have any choice but to ignore it. Nobody could know about the two of you. At least, not until he figured out exactly what it was between you.

And besides, he wasn't going to give Hyunjin the satisfaction.

The voices downstairs grew louder with every passing moment. Time was slipping away, despite the fact that Felix would have given anything to make it stop. He was selfish, maybe. But he wasn't greedy—just needed a few more minutes with you all to himself. To feel you around him, just once.

As if he would ever be so lucky.

“You’re right,” he leaned down to kiss you again, softer this time.

When he pulled back you followed his lips with your own, letting out a soft wine in protest.

“You’re right and I think," he placed another delicate kiss to your lips between words, "you’ll be the death of me princess.” 

One last kiss, one last touch of his forehead to yours with closed eyes before he turned and made his way toward the staircase, fixing his belt as he went. 

Felix didn't wait for you, and he didn’t look back—leaving you alone in the company of the shadows to contemplate once again the severity of the situation you had gotten yourself into, as his words echoed throughout your head.

You’ll be the death of me, princess.

Adrenaline filled the room with electricity as the boys piled in downstairs, relishing in the night's success. You, on the other hand, were much more hesitant to let your guard down. More than a little paranoid that your father would come crashing through the doors any moment to rip you from your newfound freedom. Nevertheless, their energy did help to calm your nerves as it was obvious that they trusted you were safe for the night.

That or they were just really, really good at keeping calm in life or death situations....After all, at the end of the day, they were still just a misfit group of eight boys your age. Something that had been easy to forget, all things considered.

All eyes were on you when you appeared at the top of the staircase, except for Felix, who had his back turned to you at the bottom. When your feet hit the main floor, Chan hurried over and put an arm around you. The sudden contact caused you to stiffen, but it didn't take long for you to relax into his touch. 

"We did it, y/n."

We did it. We.

Screw Felix and his earlier warning.

It doesn't mean they trust you, and it certainly doesn't guarantee that they ever will.

Screw your own paranoid thoughts for making you doubt their intention, for doubting Chan, even if it was only for a moment.

It was going to take some time to get used to the fact that you were no longer the prisoner of a life built upon your father's lies. Maybe there didn't have to be some ulterior motive behind it all this time.

It seemed as though Chan already thought of you as one of their own. And Jisung too, judging by the radiant smile plastered across his face when he looked your way. The butterflies in your stomach returned at full force as you shied away from meeting his eyes.

Unable to help yourself, you shot a quick glance across the room—to where Felix was now engrossed in a hushed conversation with Hyunjin, ignoring you completely, as if you didn't have your hands down the front of his pants less than three minutes ago.

As if you wouldn't have been able to turn him into a mess underneath your touch all over again, if everyone else were to suddenly disappear.

You huffed, turning back to Chan and the others. 

Once the boys had brought the majority of the supplies inside, where they would keep them until you left for Miroh, you stuck to Chan's side as the group made their way out to the backyard—where Minho and Changbin were working to start a small fire. It was dim, just enough to keep warm without drawing attention. 

Minho glanced up when you came around the corner, the sharp features of his face outlined by the gentle flames.

"Are you really sure we should be out here right now?" you lowered your voice just enough so that only Chan could hear you in the midst of the excitement. 

He looked to you with a reassuring smile. "We're safe here, at least for the night. Felix probably told you this already, but the others were able to take out a good majority of your fathers vehicles." 

No actually, he was a bit too preoccupied earlier to mention it.

"And besides," he added, "would you be able to sleep right now?"

He had a point.

You nodded, but your apprehension lingered.

When you turned your attention back to the group, Jeongin had been summoned to keep first watch on the roof. Despite his best protests, he gave in eventually, sulking his way back toward the front of the building. His youthful demeanor was endearing, although you were sure there was much more to him underneath the surface.

He wouldn't have made it this far if there wasn't.

Changbin announced to the group that he was going to collect more firewood and Felix wasted no time in volunteering himself to join. You watched intently as they disappeared into the trees. 

The rest of the boys took their respective places around the fire, aside from Jisung who had stayed inside the building earlier, insisting that he would be out to join the rest of the group later.

At your feet, Chan was shifting through a sizable bag that you had filled to the brim with food from the palace kitchens—food collected by Jisoo, who had watched you willingly leave the palace tonight. Jisoo who, by now, would have been summoned to your fathers study to reveal every single detail of what she'd witnessed. And she would have complied, if she wanted her family to survive the night.

If your father had been in your position, Jisoo would've been dead the second she wandered out of the tunnels and caught sight of you with the boys. You hated yourself for questioning if it was the right decision to leave her behind. You hated yourself even more when it crossed your mind, for the smallest fraction of a second, that maybe you should learn to be more like your father if you were going to have any chance at surviving out here.

You bit down on your lip to suppress the sudden influx of emotion at the thought of your former best (and only) friend, and the betrayal she must have felt watching you leave tonight.

You shifted on your feet, observing as Chan pulled a boiled sweet potato from the bag. "Why is it orange.." he muttered under his breath after peeling the skin back.

His puzzled expression caused a weak smile to pull at the corners of your mouth. "It's a—"

"Sweet potato."

You were immediately taken aback when Minho chimed in from his place next to Chan, in an attempt to finish your sentence for you—the two of you speaking the final word in unison. Your eyebrows knitted together and you squinted through the darkness to study his face as his eyes remained trained on the flames.

Chan looked between the two of you and shrugged, reaching into the bag for more. He took out handfuls of food and passed it around to each of the boys. They tore into it and your heart sank at the realization that it had probably been longer than you'd thought since they'd last eaten. He looked up and held some out to you but you declined, shaking your head.

Its not that you weren't hungry, your stomach was actively protesting with your brain to accept the food, it just felt wrong to take any for yourself when they were eating like they hadn't in years and you'd had an endless supply your entire life.

Eventually you would have to get over it, but you could go one night without.

You stood for a moment longer, ultimately deciding on settling down next to Seungmin who was fiddling with the bow and arrow that you'd managed to secure from the training room tonight.

"I might be shit with a gun, but this I can work with," he spoke without looking up as you took your place next to him on the grass.

"Then its yours," you assured him.

Seungmin seemed friendly enough, and you liked that he was relatively quiet. He also happened to be on the opposite side of the circle from Minho—who you now had a clear view of across the flames. You examined him, unable to help but notice that the way he held himself didn't quite match the others.

That his posture was just slightly straighter.

How he held his head just a little bit higher.

It was peculiar—like his interruption earlier, but you brushed it off.

Hyunjin had isolated himself in the grass a bit further from the group, with his light brown locks tucked behind his ears, bangs falling down in his eyes, while he scribbled something down into a worn out journal of his own. It looked like a sketch, although it was difficult to discern through the darkness.

You stretched your hands out toward the flames. Closing your eyes, you listened as the boys talked in between themselves, ignoring the fact that the one voice you really wanted to hear was missing. 

Shortly after everyone had made themselves comfortable, just as you were beginning to feel yourself slip into that limbo between consciousness and sleep, the sound of glass clinking together caused your eyes to snap open again.

You were met with the sight of Jisung as he came strolling in from around the corner with three shiny bottles in his arms. He jogged over and plopped down on your other side, lightly brushing your shoulder with his own as he tossed a bottle to Chan over the fire. He reached across you to hand another to Seungmin, keeping the last one for himself. The two tapped the bottles together before Jisung popped the top and took a swig. His face contorted and he bared his teeth as he swallowed. After taking another sip, he turned and offered the bottle to you, raising the eyebrow with the metal piercing

"Told you I'd save one for you. It'll make you feel better, promise," he flashed you another bright smile and you wondered if the pretty boy in front of you had ever heard the word 'no' in his entire life.

He certainly wasn't going to hear it from you.

You wrapped your hand around the bottle and put it to your lips. 

The liquor was nothing like the wine served in the palace. It burned as it made its way down your throat and you sputtered at the sensation, which made Jisung burst into a laugh. It was hearty and sincere, and it took a moment for you to realized that you had actually laughed with him. A sound so unfamiliar it was as if it had come from a stranger.

You took another sip.

The seconds turned to minutes. Five, ten, fifteen, until it became too difficult to keep track of time any longer. The liquor began to cloud your senses, and you welcomed it with open arms. You'd never been drunk before, you weren't even sure if you were drunk now, but whatever it was felt fucking amazing as your worries slipped further away with every sip.

Chan was immersed in conversation with Minho across the fire, Hyunjin had yet to lift his head from the drawing he was so intently focused on, and Seungmin lay against the ground with his eyes closed, humming a wistful melody in perfect pitch.

Meanwhile, you and Jisung had passed the bottle back and forth so many times you'd lost count. With sparkling eyes and animated hand gestures, he was excitedly telling you about the night they'd found Yellow Wood nearly five years ago. You nodded along, despite the fact that, although you did have genuine interest in the story (and his appearance), you weren't really listening at all.

Your focus was entirely lost to the the tree line behind him. 

Just as he handed the liquor out to you again, two shadowy figures stepped out from the trees into the clearing. You brought the bottle to your lips, eyes locked on their every move.

On his every move.

Felix scanned the group, and when his eyes landed on yours the buzz in your head caused a few drops to slip out onto your chin. You coughed, handing the bottle to Jisung who, without warning, covered his hand with his sleeve and brought it up to wipe the alcohol from your chin. Your eyes widened but Jisung was oblivious as he took the bottle back, chiming in to whatever Chan was saying across the fire. 

When you looked back to Felix, he had stopped moving. Frozen in time, with his jaw tightly clenched and his hand crumpled into a fist at his side. Changbin called out to him from the spot he'd taken next to Chan, and the others fell silent one by one as Felix stared daggers at Jisung. After his name was repeated for a third time, Felix finally marched over to join the others. His movement was stiff and you kept his fiery gaze in your peripherals, unable to ignore when it shifted to you. 

Chan cleared his throat before quickly resuming the conversation, which was probably a good thing because Felix wasn't being subtle at all. 

The liquor made your head spin. 

Felix made your head spin. 

You took another sip. 

"And we couldn't have done it without you, y/n," Chan's voice cut through your thoughts at the mention of your name.

"What you risked tonight doesn't go unnoticed. Make yourself comfortable here before we leave for Miroh. I think we'll take tomorrow to come up with some kind of plan, which we'll need your help with. You know better than any of us the routes we'll need to take to have the best chance at avoiding your father out there."

A few of the others nodded in agreement, and you couldn't deny that it felt good to be included by Chan as if you were one of their own, even if you knew he wasn't speaking for everyone. Even if the mention of your father brought you back to feeling powerless for a moment, it was a brief moment, thanks to the multitude of distractions around you.

"Whats ours is yours. Thank you." Chan finished by lifting a bottle in your direction, and Jisung let out an exaggerated applause. Seungmin reached behind you to give him a playful smack on the back of the head, which Changbin seemed to enjoy. Minho remained stoic, Hyunjin had yet to look up from his journal, and Felix..

Felix, Felix, Felix.

Brown eyes had always been your favorite and his were stunning, even more so with the flames reflected in them. They didn't leave you for a second, not even when he snatched the bottle from Chan and gulped down the alcohol like it was water.

His lips glistened when he pulled it away, and you shifted position in an attempt to feel any small ounce of friction between your legs. The tension between the two of you was nothing less than palpable at this point, and you knew for a fact that the others could feel it too.

But you didn't care.

You could only think of how badly you wanted to be alone with him again, even just for a little while. As long as it was without any interruptions.

Your attention was ripped from Felix when Jisung offered you the last sip in your shared bottle. Just as you were preparing to decline, due to the strong suspicion that you were already going to have a headache in the morning, Jeongin reappeared from around the building.

He waltzed over to Jisung, reaching for the bottle, and frown quickly spread across his lips when he realized it was nearly empty. "I told you to save me some!" he whined through a pout.

"Don't blame me, District nine over here can drink!"Jisung pointed to where you sat behind him, and you shoved his shoulder.

The intensity from Felix magnified tenfold when you your hands fell against Jisung, and you briefly considered touching him again. 

Just to see.

"I like her," Seungmin chimed in from behind you. And you pulled a face at Jisung, smirking and raising your own eyebrow.

After coming to the conclusion that neither Jisung nor Seungmin were in any state to keep watch, Jeongin turned to survey the other half of the group. "Feelix," a wide grin spread across his face, and your ears perked up at the name.

Felix stood abruptly. Tossing Chan's now empty liquor bottle to the ground, he pushed past the younger boy without speaking a word.

“Was it something I said?” Jeongin looked to the rest of the group and Jisung shrugged as he got up to go relieve himself in the woods.

Seungmin lay back down against the ground with a thud, groaning as he rubbed his head. “You shouldgo,” he slurred out, looking up at you from his place on the grass.

“What—” you turned to face him, realizing that your eyes hadn't left the spot where Felix had disappeared around the building. 

He nudged his head in the same direction. “The view from the roof is craazy at night.”

“Y-yeah but I don't—"

“y/n just go. I know you want to. I won’t tell,” he put a finger to his lips and gestured around the circle to the others who, at this point, were either passed out or too intoxicated to notice your absence. Even Jeongin had made himself quite comfortable using Seungmin's thigh as a pillow, eyelids growing heavier with every passing second.

With another reassuring nod from Seungmin, you stood. The full effects of the alcohol that you had ingested hit you at full force when you began to move.

Had you chosen to remain outside, you were certain that you would have fallen asleep eventually underneath the stars, surrounded by the boys who offered you some small sense of security, even if they hadn't fully accepted you. And yet, here you were chasing after Felix like a lost puppy. With the worst part being that, as much as you would have liked to pretend that your intentions were purely innocent, that you only wanted to check up on the freckled boy and nothing more, it would have been impossible to deny that you knew exactly what you were doing.

Making sure to keep your distance, you trailed behind Felix around to the front of the building where he disappeared inside. You slipped through the front doors just in time to watch him turn the corner upstairs. The room spinned and you had to grab onto the bannister of the staircase as you stumbled up it, abandoning any attempt at staying quiet.

Immediately upon turning the corner at the top of the stairs you, let out a small yelp when you were encompassed by a pair of strong arms from behind. In one swift movement, they pulled you in until your back made contact with a toned chest, and you were unable to help the faint smile that spread across your lips when you felt his heartbeat thud against your back.

Jisung was right—you did feel better. Although you were sure the alcohol was no longer to thank. 

Felix turned you around in his arms, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath when he reached for your hand. He took it without a word, guiding you in the direction of a dark hallway lined by closed doors.

At the end of the hallway, he turned and led you through one final door into a large open space. The ceiling was higher here, and in some spots it was so eroded that you could see straight through it to the floor above. The surrounding space looked like it had been designed as multiple separate rooms, although the walls between them had since been knocked down. You recalled the word 'Hotel' in faded writing above the front doors. Having no idea what it meant, your curiosity surrounding Yellow Wood and its original purpose grew.

You wondered how long it had been here and who had lived in it before the boys, hundreds of years ago, when it looked how it was supposed to look. 

Broken windows decorated the outer wall, but you didn't mind when the cool breeze hit your face—flushed from exhaustion, and the alcohol, and your close proximity to Felix. The air tasted sweet, and—like Seungmin's melody—it made you nostalgic for a life you'd never had. 

You hoped the people who lived here before were able to have that sort of life.

Felix dragged you across the moonlit space, your hands still clasped together. "I'm surprised Jisung let you leave," he mumbled underneath his breath. And you wondered if he'd actually meant for you to hear him.

Either way, jealousy looked good on Felix. 

You came to a halt, tugging on his hand, unable to help the giggle that escaped you when he turned around. The alcohol in your veins gave you the courage to lift your head and plant a kiss directly on his lips, wiping off the scowl. "I saw the way you looked at him,"  you smiled against him.

"Its not that..He's just..I just..Fuck come on. I'm supposed to be keeping watch," his tone was serious, but as he pulled away you caught him try to hide the faintest hint of a smile.

Jealousy looked good on Felix, but whatever that was, it looked better.

He led you to an open space on the outer wall where he pulled back a curtain to reveal a balcony made entirely of wooden planks.

Wooden planks that appeared..Less than stable.

"There," he nudged his head in the direction across the balcony where you observed a rickety iron ladder. It scaled the side of the building, leading up to the roof.

Felix took a step onto the balcony and you hesitantly followed his lead, freezing when you peered down over the edge. The edge that also happened to be missing a railing.

"It's alright. I've got you," he tightened his grip on your hand, and you were able to tear your eyes from the endless darkness below.

The gentle tone in his voice was a stark contrast from what you were used to receiving from not only Felix, but everyone else in your life. His attitude was also much more relaxed than you'd ever seen it, and you were certain that the alcohol (and the fact that you were no longer sitting next to Jisung) was to thank. 

With a little help from Felix, you steadied yourself on the ladder—which was considerably more difficult than it should've been due to the spinning sensation in your head, but you managed to climb to the top. You pulled yourself over the edge of the short wall that lined the perimeter of the rooftop, and when you looked up from dusting off your pants, your jaw dropped.

Even through the shadows, the rooftop was its own kind of beautiful. Thick vines and foliage weaved throughout rubble on the ground, reaching all the way up to wooden beams that covered the spaced above. It resembled a hidden fortress that you had a feeling was even more enchanting during the daytime.

You recognized the black hoodie that belonged to Felix thrown on top of a small pile of blankets in the corner.

Did he sleep here often? Had he ever thought of you while he lie there, like you'd thought of him when you struggled to fall asleep in your own bed at the palace?

Get it together, y/n.

You stepped away from his side, making your way over to the short wall at the edge of the rooftop, resting your hands on it and straining your eyes as far as you could see.

Across the vast landscape, muted orange and yellow light from lanterns vaguely outlined buildings in Districts 7 and 8. Taller buildings stood even further beyond, in what you could only assume to be District 9. Behind you, an ocean of darkness extended into nothing toward the outer districts. 

You shuddered at the thought before taking it all in for a second time, until you came across something in the distance that you hadn't noticed the before.

A thick cloud of smoke, rising up from a faint dot on the horizon.

The sight of it—the realization of what it represented, was more than sobering. 

You turned and slid your back down the wall until you reached the pile of blankets at the bottom, hugging your knees while your heart raced. 

Felix crouched down next to you with his own back against the wall.

He looked to the moon, and it illuminated his features beautifully. He was beautiful. Beautiful enough to distract you from the nauseating surge of emotions that had fallen over you at the sight of your father's palace. Far more beautiful than anything in the sky above, so you turned to rest your head against the wall—choosing to look at him instead. 

He did the same, and when your eyes met, you knew without question that the sight of him there would be embedded permanently in your mind until the moment you died.

After a moment, his expression faltered. Almost as if he was fighting something within himself. And you were too, although it didn't take long at all for you to give in tonight—allowing yourself to succumb to whatever it was that had been pulling you together since the moment you'd met.

Before you'd even had time to process what he was doing, Felix reached over and pulled you into his lap. Your knees landed on the hard ground on either side of him, your lips connecting instantly with his. He didn't need words to tell you that he'd been waiting for this moment just as badly as you. 

You cushioned his head with your hand when he leaned back against the wall. The kisses deepened to your usual pace as you allowed his tongue entrance to your mouth, and his hands found their way to your hips to guide them as you began to move, rocking back and forth. 

So much for keeping watch. 

His lips fell down to your neck where he left a trail of sloppy wet kisses. You moaned, far louder than you had intended, when he bit down at the sensitive skin. "Fuck, Felix—" you struggled to catch your breath, "you'll leave a mark."

"Don't care. It'll look good on you," he smirked against your skin, and you wondered if he thought Jisung would agree. 

You grabbed his hands and brought them up to your breasts, where he kneaded at the soft flesh over your clothing as the kisses became more desperate.

A little afraid being interrupted for a third time, you wasted no time in undressing—actions sloppy due to exhaustion, lust, and the lingering effects of the alcohol. But at this point you were both sober enough to make it more than clear how badly you wanted each other. 

Felix helped you take off your shirt before removing his own and tossing it to the side. You slipped out of your pants while he undid his belt for the second time that night. He shoved his jeans and underwear down to his thighs allowing his cock to spring free. It slapped up against his abdomen, leaving a small trail of pre-cum. You bit down on your lip to stifle another moan at the sight of it.

"Like what you see?" he looked up with an arrogance that you couldn't even be mad at him for, because he had every right to be arrogant.

His nails dug deep crescent shapes into the bare skin at your hips, the silver rings on his fingers making you shiver. When you dropped back down into his lap, his thick length swiped across your folds and you gasped as the head of his cock made contact with your clit.

"Need you," you whimpered against his lips. And Felix was more than happy to oblige, wasting no time in aligning himself with your entrance. You closed your eyes to prepare for the stretch as the tip of his cock teased at your dripping heat, whining his name in protest when he hesitated.  

"Just promise me one thing princess," his breathless words came out heavily muffled by your lips. 

"Anything," you croaked, burying your face in the side of his neck. And it was true, in that moment you would've told him absolutely anything he wanted to hear, if it meant that you'd finally get to feel him inside of you.

"D-don't," he swallowed, in an attempt to regain enough composure to speak.

"Don't let me love you." 

You pulled back with your arms still wrapped around his neck, meeting his piercing brown eyes that were already staring back. You glanced over his face through the darkness, studying something in his expression that nobody had ever looked at you with before.

Should you have stopped to ask what he meant by it? Probably. But you'd done a spectacular job of numbing your emotions up to this point, and you weren't about to fight that now.

Not when every single aspect of your future was uncertain, including the promise of tomorrow. And selfishly, you needed Felix right now more than you ever would've allowed yourself to admit—to keep your mind from spiraling down into a place that scared you even more than it did to be completely vulnerable with him.

"I promise. I just want to forget, Lix, please," you kissed him again, "please just make me forget."

Felix didn’t have to ask what you meant, because he'd been there all too many times before in his own life.

He didn't quite understand why, and maybe he never would, but it destroyed him to hear you utter those words in your current defenseless state—begging him to make it all disappear.

He would have taken it from you in a heartbeat, if he could've. Every fear caused by every painful memory, every burden that came with the blood that ran through your veins—he would have accepted it all for himself if it meant that he never had to witness an ounce of pain behind your pretty eyes ever again.

But Felix was only human, after all. And if the only thing he could offer was to make you forget, even if just for tonight, then that is exactly what he would do.

Not once in your life had you spent a single night outside the walls of the palace. Until now.

The smell of fresh air, mixed with the gentle breeze against your skin, would have been absolutely serene it weren’t for the splitting headache that kept your eyes squeezed shut. It only seemed to worsen as you recalled what had led to you waking up outside like this.

On the rooftop. Alone. 

You didn’t need to open your eyes to feel his absence.

You'd fallen asleep in only your thin shirt with his warm chest pressed up against your back. His arms had been wrapped tightly around you as he drew circles on your skin with his fingertips, tracing the faint marks left by those same fingertips just moments before. 

When you'd fallen asleep you were warm, protected, safe.

And so was he. Most importantly, so was he. 

But now, as you opened your heavy eyelids, you were cold, exposed, alone.

You should have known better, really. 

You'd made it clear that last night was only meant to be a distraction and Felix had been in total agreement. Even if there had been a small part of you that had hoped to wake up in his arms—which there wasn't—it's not like you'd actually expected to.

At least he’d had the decency to cover you with his jacket before he left. 

You slipped your arms through it and his scent invited you to feel safe again for a moment before coming to your senses.

You reached for the rest of your clothing that had been folded into a neat pile beside you, something you were almost certain you hadn't done yourself before falling asleep last night. Putting your head in your hands, you let out a frustrated groan at your own stupidity as you began to recall the events of last night.

You could still feel where he had placed sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your skin. Where he had put his hands to steady himself while he was fucking into you. And if you'd lifted your shirt, you were certain that you would have observed faint bruises on the skin underneath. Bruises that perfectly matched the shape of his fingertips.

After getting dressed, you climbed down the ladder and slipped back inside the building that was much less intimidating underneath the morning light. Less intimidating and more..Misunderstood. If you could call a place that.

You found your way back down the hallway and when you turned the corner at the top of the staircase, you caught sight of Chan and Minho near the entrance below, engaged in what appeared to be a fairly heated discussion. Their heads snapped up simultaneously upon your arrival, eyes falling to the jacket that you had forgotten you were still wearing—Felix's jacket.

You shrugged it off when you made your way down the stairs, as if they hadn't already caught sight of you wearing it like a trophy.

Nice, y/n.

When you reached the bottom, Chan hurried over. He glanced down to your neck for a fraction of a second, and you were instantly reminded of how Felix had taken it upon himself to mark you in the same place last night.

Fucking fantastic.

Chan cleared his throat. “Have you..uh, seen Felix this morning?”

“W-what why would I—" your shaky voice betrayed you as more particularly intimate details from last night came flooding back.

You reached up to press against your temple in an attempt to calm the pounding headache and regain control of your thoughts. “No, I haven’t,” you choked out, unable to meet Chans eyes. 

“I fucking told you he took the bike, it was already gone when I got up this morning," Minho stepped up to join Chan beside you. It was the first time you had heard him speak up close and his voice was honey smooth, even when he cursed.

Chan let out a heavy sigh before pinching the scar along the bridge of his nose, a habit of his that you'd picked up on. “Let’s go. We might have a chance to catch up to him if we take the—” 

“What's going on?” their heads spun around at your sudden interruption, almost as if they had forgotten you were there at all.

Minho turned back to Chan, ignoring you completely.

“How the hell are we supposed to find him when—"

“We need to try,” Chan's voice strained, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore the way his entire boy was beginning to tense.

“Oh, well that should be easy enough considering there’s only nine districts. At least there aren’t ten. At least there isn't an entire fucking army looking to put a bullet in each of our heads right now.” Minho’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, and you might have been able to appreciate it, if it weren't for your growing concern.

“What is going on?” You repeated more forcefully, although your confidence was short lived.

Minho snarled. “You mean Felix didn’t willingly offer up his deepest darkest secrets to the daughter of the man that wants us all dead? Or maybe he was just too busy sucking that mark into your neck," he turned his entire body to stare directly at the spot where your hair was (apparently) doing a very poor job of covering the deep purple bruise. 

You recoiled at the harshness in his voice, reaching a shaky hand up to move your hair.

"Min. Don't," Chan shot him a glare, and Minho rolled his eyes.

When Chan looked back to you, his expression softened. "I'm sure you've figured out by now that none of us have had it easy, y/n. We all have a past that we want to erase, and most of us have. Felix just has a tendency to let his catch up to him sometimes."

Minho scoffed. "You could say that. Just be glad you’re not the one patching him up every time it catches up to him—"

"If you're not coming then I’ll go by myself," Chan cut him off again.

A muscle twitched in Minho's jaw before he turned to follow Chan, who was now heading for the doors.

With your concern for Felix overpowering your better judgement, you chased after them.

When you caught up, Chan turned and put a firm hand on your shoulder. "No, y/n. Not this time, I’m sorry."

You knew why he'd stopped you, and he was right to do it.

It wasn't worth the risk of you being caught by your father, just for you to accompany them on some heroic side quest to save Felix from whatever danger he appeared to have gotten himself into. But with last night still lingering in your mind, you'd entirely forgotten about the current state of the world outside the walls of Yellow Wood. Including the fact that there was now a very expensive price on your head.

"Maybe if I just—"

"Y/n," Chan's voice was commanding, but before you could protest any further the front doors creaked in front of you. All three of you whipped your heads toward the sound as the doors opened to reveal the freckled boy who had left you alone on the rooftop this morning.

Judging by his expression, it was obvious that he hadn't expected to walk inside and come face to face with the three of you staring back.

He looked first to Chan, next to Minho, and then, he let his eyes fall to yours briefly before another interruption arose behind you. 

"Damn, what’s with the energy in here?" Jisung stepped out into the light from somewhere deeper within the main floor, covering a yawn with his hand.

Felix took the sudden distraction as his chance to slip the rest of the way through the door. Without slowing his pace, he tore his jacket from your hands and climbed swiftly up the stairs, with Chan calling after him to no avail.

"You know I think I'm just gonna.." Jisung pointed behind himself with his thumb and took a few steps backward before turning to leave. Minho looked to Chan and the two shared a silent word before Minho followed after Jisung.

"What the hell is going on?" you repeated for a third time, hoping you might be able to get an actual answer out of Chan now that the two of you were alone.

He looked you up and down, chewing on the inside of his cheek, clearly trying to decide whether or not to include you in on a secret that might not be entirely his to tell.

"Please Chan. I need to know that I made the right choice. I need to know that you trust me."

A little manipulative, maybe, but you were desperate.

After a moment of consideration, he let out a defeated sigh. "Fine. Just..Not here. Come with me."

And then, he took your arm and dragged you through the front doors.

The forest that surrounded Yellow Wood, like the building itself, was far less intimidating when it wasn't distorted by darkness. It felt easier to breathe here, underneath the trees. And if the circumstances had been different, you might have liked to stay for a while. Forever, maybe.

You walked beside Chan in silence until you came up on a small stream. He sat down at the bank and you did the same, crossing your legs and resting your hands against the earth behind you. Digging your fingers in the dirt, you watched as he visibly struggled to find the words to begin. "Like I said, y/n. We all have a past we want to erase. Even Minho, who grew up in District nine if you can believe that. It's how he knows what he does about healing."

What.

Minho and his polished mannerisms, the way he carried himself, it all made sense when you really thought about it. But you'd just assumed that all of the boys were from the outer districts. And so, the revelation that Minho was actually from District nine of all places, brought rise to a thousand more questions. Questions that would have to wait, because you weren’t about to interrupt Chan now.

When he opened his mouth again, you braced yourself as best you could for whatever he was preparing say. "Minho has seen some dark shit. But Felix..I don’t even know half of what he's been through. We're both from District two. Felix doesn’t talk much about his life before, but I know enough from the state he was in when I found him. Before we met, he was part of a group of people—if you can call them that—so horrible they would give even your father a run for his money. A different breed of evil. They killed his mother, and then they took him and conditioned him to be like them. Its what they do—take kids from parents who are unable to fight back and turn them into monsters. They force them to steal for them, to hunt for them, to kill for them. But Felix is good by nature, I know he is and I know you see it too.”

He paused to take in a shaky breath, letting it out as a steady exhale. "I knew the moment we met that I had to get him out of there. It’s a long story, but they’re not the kind of people that just let you leave. Even now, whenever they catch up to us again, whenever they find him again, I always know because he starts disappearing. Sometimes he'll be gone for two or three days at a time, and when he finally does come back, he looks like shit. Usually covered in bruises, and theres nothing I can do. I don't even know what he does when he's with them but I know its them. He won't talk to me about it, no matter how much I try to convince him that he's safe with us and that he doesn’t have to go keep going back. But they’ve got their claws buried so deep in him that he just won’t listen, even after all this time."

He turned to face you. “He wont listen to me but I thought, maybe he might listen to you."

“Wh—why would you think he would listen to me?" you choked out.

His eyes fell to your neck before dropping to the ground, where he picked up a small stone and began to fidget with it between his fingers. "The first thing to know about Felix is that he doesn’t let people in. It took years for him to accept me and the others the way he does now. I know for a fact that if it wasn’t for me he wouldn’t be involved in any of this—the raid, Miroh, going up against your father. But he puts himself right in the middle of it all because he is so damn loyal. And that's the second thing to know about Felix. Once you do earn his trust, you will have it until the day you die. He will do anything for you."

You nodded, encouraging him to continue seeing as he still hadn't answered your question.

Chan cleared his throat. "The third thing about Felix..Is that I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. Never. Not anyone. He’s been through a lot, y/n. I worry about him. I care about him, and thats why I’m telling you this. Because..I think you do too.”

To say that you were speechless would have been an understatement.

You gave him a weak, reassuring smile because it was the only form of response that you could manage through the tightness in your chest and the ringing in your ears.

He thinks you care about Felix?

You have no idea, Chan.

You have no fucking idea.

You were more than thankful Chan didn't press you for any further response on the way back. It was a lot to process—beyond a lot. Because not only were you trying to wrap your mind around the truth about Felix and his past, you were also trying to deal with your own rapidly changing feelings for him.

Despite the things he had been through in his life, things that you couldn't even begin to understand, you were certain that there were parts of Felix that even a past as awful as his would never have been able to take from him. You had caught brief glimpses of those parts of him when it was just the two of you. You saw it in his eyes. Heard it in his voice. Felt it in his touch when he..

Maybe Chan was right about there being a chance that he would listen to you. 

You picked up your pace, allowing Chan to fall behind.

Finally, you stepped across the tree line into the clearing where the backside of Yellow Wood came into view. It took everything you had not to completely abandon Chan and run inside. You were strongly considering it, until you movement caught your attention up ahead.

A figure dressed in ragged clothing had his back to you as he walked along the backside of the building. At first glance, you assumed it was one of the boys, but it quickly became clear that something wasn’t right. Chan came up behind you and you could quite literally feel the shift in energy the moment he laid his own eyes on the stranger.

When he reached out for you, to ensure that you didn’t take another step, a stick snapped underneath the weight of his foot. 

It obliterated the silence, and you let out a breath you hadn't even realized you'd been holding in. Cursing at him in your head.

The stranger spun around in an instant, in search of the source of the sound. He fit right in with the majority of the population you'd come across outside of District 9. Slender build, long hair streaked with gray that fell down around the skeletal features of his face. Except, there was something about this particular man that made the hair on the back of your neck stand straight up. 

Intuition, maybe. 

That, or the malicious look in his eyes. 

The three of you stood at a standstill, which may have gone on for quite some time if Changbin and Minho hadn’t come strolling around the corner up ahead, completely oblivious to the severity of the situation they had just stumbled into.

Everything that happened next happened in a blur. 

Chan called out for Minho, shoving you behind him. The man tried to run but was easily overpowered by Changbin as he pushed him to the ground.

Chan hurried to join them and, after regaining your balance, you did the same. He dropped to the ground, helping Changbin to pull the man’s arms behind his back.

"There's some rope in the back of the truck that we can use to tie him," he grunted as the man struggled in his grasp. And Minho took off running in the direction of the vehicle.

The intruder spit out vulgar curses at the boys until his eyes came to you and he fell silent, slowly licking his lips. “Where’d you find this pretty thing—” he was cut off by Changbin who delivered a swift punch to his jaw.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” Changbin spoke through gritted teeth.

"Get inside y/n," Chan ordered, although you were a bit too stunned to comprehend his words.

When you didn’t move, he spoke again in a more authoritative tone.

"Now."

You swallowed and forced yourself to peel your eyes from the man on the ground. But before you could take a single step, Hyunjin came sprinting around the corner. "We heard shouting—" 

We. 

You craned your neck to find Felix standing motionless behind him, eyes so wide you could see the whites surrounding them. The color drained from his face with every passing second, as if he was staring at a ghost. 

That or something much, much worse.

The intruder managed to turn his head where Changbin had it pressed against the ground, just enough to face Felix. And then, he did something that made every inch of your skin crawl. 

He smiled—a sinister grin that revealed a mouth full of missing teeth.

"I mean no harm to you and your people," he looked up to Chan, correctly presuming his status as leader of the group. His voice was coarse and laced with something vicious, despite his words.

"I thought I told you to shut the fuck up," Changbin shoved the side of his head back into the ground, but it didn't prevent him from speaking again. 

"I only came to collect what is rightfully mine," he spit the words out into the dirt, no longer looking to Chan but directly at Felix, whose own eyes now displayed something that you had never seen in them before.

Fear.

Minho returned with the rope and a cloth, which Chan used to gag the man before he was able to say anything further. The boys dragged him to the nearest tree where they tied him tightly. His eyes never left Felix, who remained visibly on edge.

The sight of the freckled boy standing before you, absolutely terrified, took away any fear you might've had for yourself and turned it into red hot anger. 

Without hesitation, you marched over and stepped right in front of Felix. Facing him yourself, you did your best to block the man entirely from his view. His stare remained empty, trained somewhere behind you, so you whispered out a soft “Hey,” and gently reached up to cup his face, bringing his attention to you instead—ignoring your surroundings entirely, as if it was just the two of you. 

He didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to. The way he looked at you alone was enough to ignite something deep within you. A fierce, unexplainable desire to protect him from whatever monster lie behind you. No matter the cost.

The second the man was secured to the tree, Chan stood and yanked the clothing back from one of his shoulders, almost as if he were looking for something on the skin underneath. Dissatisfied with what he found, he moved to the opposite shoulder and did the same exact thing. You watched as he pulled down the mans shirt again to reveal a deep, branded mark, permanently etched into the skin.

Chan gritted his teeth at the sight. And then, he got up and walked right over to where you and Felix stood.

Without any resistance from Felix, Chan turned him around and pulled up the back of his shirt to reveal the exact same mark, less faded, in the exact same place.

And then, it was like the final piece of a puzzle fitting into place in your mind. 

Just as Chan had said, it seemed as though Felix really did have a tendency to let his past catch up to him.

And this time, it appeared to have been just a little too close to home.

It was decided that the boys would take turns keeping watch over the man from Felix’s past while they figured out how to deal with him. Chan was strongly against the idea of “getting rid of the fucker right here and now,” as Changbin put it. And although you hadn’t said it outright, you were in agreement with Changbin. Whoever he was, the man had clearly come here with the sole intention of hurting Felix, which was more than enough reason to get rid of him in your eyes. 

Despite not having any idea what was going on, Jisung was sent outside, gun in hand, to keep first watch. His only instructions from Chan being to “just do it” and that he would explain later. Changbin left with Seungmin and Jeongin to scope the perimeter, just in case the man hadn’t come alone, although you were all pretty confident you’d know by now if that had been the case.

Behind closed doors just off the main floor, what had started as a discussion between Chan, Minho, and Felix quickly escalated into an argument. You stood outside with Hyunjin, both of you too intently focused on trying to discern was being said on the other side of the doors to acknowledge each others presence. 

You jumped at what sounded like a fist slamming down on a table, which was quickly followed by Minho raising his voice. “How else do you think he found us? He fucking followed him back this morning!”

Hyunjin's face scrunched in confusion and you thought of filling him in on what had happened earlier, but decided against it. Now wasn't the time to try and make friends.

You'd nearly forgotten that Felix was in the room with them because he had yet to utter a single word. In fact, the last time you’d heard him speak at all was before you'd fallen asleep last night. When his voice was filled with nothing but pleasure, exhaustion, and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Something sweeter than both. 

Now, not even twenty four hours later, his voice came out detached, emotionless. Broken.

“Chan is right. We need to let him go," a brief pause occurred before he spoke again, "we can't kill him because they'll all come looking. We need to let him go, and I might as well go with him now because they won’t stop until—"

“No,” Chans voice was firm, “that isn’t an option.”

“We aren’t letting that happen,” Minho again. 

And no response from Felix. 

After deciding that you'd had enough, you reached for the door handle. Before you could pull it open, Hyunjin put his hand over yours. You looked to him and he shook his head.

You obeyed and stepped back, putting your ear to the wall again.

Chan was first to speak.

“Then we leave for Miroh tomorrow, before any more of them show up. We’ll bring him with us until we can figure out what to do with him. And we keep this between us. The others don’t need to know who he is or how he knows who we are. Keep him gagged.”

Silence. 

Silence, for what felt like an eternity before the door flew open, causing you and Hyunjin to stumble backward. Felix came out first, pushing his way through without stopping to acknowledge either of you. You felt Hyunjin's eyes on you as you watched Felix go.

After a brief conversation with Minho and Chan about what would need to be done to prepare to leave for Miroh tomorrow (with an extra person) you left to get some fresh air. Which, despite the fact that you probably did need it, was just a poor excuse to cover up the real reason you were so desperate to leave the room.

You decided to head to the rooftop, because you figured it was where you'd have the best chance of finding Felix.

Just as you stepped out onto the main floor, Jisung came in through the front doors. “Do you have any idea what the hell is going on?"

“I thought you were keeping watch?” you shot him a puzzled look. Had Changbin and the others returned already?

“Nah, well I was, but Felix just took over so I came in to find some answers—"

“What do you mean?” you interrupted, unable to mask the sudden panic in your voice, “is he out there alone right now?” 

“Well yeah, I mean unless you count the other guy—"

Shit.

You shoved Jisung out of the way, heading for the doors. He called out your name, but there was no time to stop and explain. You bolted around the side of the building as fast as you could and when you turned the corner, your breath hitched in your throat. 

It took a moment for you to realize what was actually going on. Although the sun was beginning to set, it was still light enough outside that you could make out a general outline.

The intruder was on the ground. Free of his restraints.

On top of something, no, someone. With his hands wrapped tightly around their throat.

With his hands wrapped around Felix's throat.

Felix, who was just letting it happen. With his own hands loosely grasped around the mans own, doing nothing to stop him. The gun he was supposed to have been using to keep watch was nowhere in sight. 

You opened your mouth to yell for Chan, or Jisung, or anyone but nothing came out as the scene before you ripped the air from your lungs.

The man was so completely focused on draining the life from Felix that he didn’t even notice as you approached.

You desperately tried to push him off, begging him to stop with whatever words you could manage, but he didn't budge. He paid no mind to you, black eyes locked on Felix beneath him.

Out of instinct, your hand fell down to the knife that you always carried with you. The second time you'd ever gripped the handle with real intent to use it. Removing it from your waistband, you caught sight of Felix as his eyelids began to flutter, rolling back into his head as he lost consciousness. Your heart pounded in your ears at the realization that if you didn’t do something that very second you would never see them open again.

Every choice comes at a cost.

And you were more than willing to pay the price.

You clutched the handle of the knife as hard as you could. And with one last glance to Felix, with one short plea to whatever higher power might be on your side tonight, you plunged the blade into the back of his attacker.

But you didn't stop there. You pushed it deeper into the flesh because you didn’t want to let him live. Because he didn't deserve to live—Chan had been wrong. 

It took every ounce of strength you had to rip the knife back out. When you did, the stranger immediately released his hold on Felix, rolling over and collapsing face up on the ground.

You took a shaky step back, and then another, dropping the knife into the grass.

It was all too much, really.

The sight of the man on the ground, sputtering and convulsing as he struggled to breathe. Blood on his lips. Blood on the knife.

Blood on your hands.

The sounds expressed by Felix, whose eyes lulled open as he reached for his throat, coughing and gasping for air.

The wheezing noises caused by your own hyperventilated breathing that you hadn’t even noticed until now.

You had never killed anyone before. Somewhere deep down, you knew that you had it in you, considering where you came from. And you had accepted that you might need to some day given the recent choices you'd made. But you had never actually done it. 

And maybe you would never have had to, if Felix hadn’t just allowed the man at your feet to bring him to the edge of death. 

Your panic turned to anger once again. But this time, it wasn't directed at the dying man. 

"You didn’t fight back," you whispered, refusing to look at Felix as he lifted his head from his place on the ground.

When he failed to respond, you repeated yourself again. "Why didn’t you fight back?!" raising your voice, it broke as you yelled it at him, nails digging into your palms once again to keep from losing it completely.

Felix stood slowly on shaky legs. Once he was stable on his feet, he took a few hesitant steps toward you. He took your hands in his own, bringing the bottom of his shirt up to wipe off the blood. When you tried to look back at the man that now lay motionless on the ground, he cupped your face and turned your attention back to him. Just as you had done earlier.

You turned your head in the opposite direction, refusing to face him because it stung. The fact that he had almost willingly left you behind in this world to face whatever uncertainties lie ahead without him. Alone.

You lifted a fist and brought it back down onto his chest. It landed gently, with a soft thud, because no matter how upset you were with him, no matter how angry or hurt you might have been, you would never be able to hurt him back.

You repeated the action over and over, again and again, and then you stopped. Splaying your fingers on his chest, spreading them wide until you felt beat of his heart underneath. Thudding against your palm, accompanied by the steady rise and fall of every breath he took.

Felix was safe. He was alive. The marks on his neck would fade. The aching sensation in your heart would heal to leave behind a small scar. But what was one more, anyway?

Felix remained motionless, allowing you all the time you needed with your hand on his chest as your breathing steadied, falling in sync with his own.

Finally you gave in, tilting your head up to look at him, unable to keep tears from falling when you met his eyes despite your best efforts to hold them back. You could have, if he had been anyone else, but he made you more vulnerable than you would ever have been able to admit.

When Felix pulled you into his arms, you let him.

Maybe it was a good thing you felt like throwing up at the mere thought of the body at your feet, because it meant that you hadn't inherited your fathers disregard for human life. Maybe it made you weaker. But nothing made you as weak as the freckled boy standing in front of you now. 

Maybe your father had been right about one thing. 

Over your shoulder, Felix forced his eyes down to the lifeless man on the ground, just one of the many individuals who had made his life a living hell for as long as he could remember. A strange combination of loss and relief washed over him, followed by a brief sense of freedom that he couldn’t let himself indulge in fully, because he knew it wouldn't last. 

When you buried your face in his neck, Felix rested his chin on top of your head. Bringing a hand up, he gently stroked your hair while you calmed down.

He'd never even meant for you to know his name and now, without any hesitation whatsoever, you had stupidly put yourself in danger for him.

Without any consideration for the repercussions it might have, you had just killed someone.

For him.

To protect him. 

And it was because of you that he was able to feel any ounce of freedom at all tonight, no matter how short lived it may be.

Every barrier he had put up, every single wall he'd built around himself, it all came crashing down at the thought. Shattering into nothing as you tore your way through his defenses faster than anyone ever had before.

Felix already had seven soul mates.

He wondered if there would be room for an eighth. 

Part 5.

tysm for reading<33 i'm also going to start a taglist for this fic so if you would like to be added please don't hesitate to let me know :)

taglist: @vixensss

[radioactivepeasant]

Chaos Wednesday (doesn't normally happen): Demon Slayer Baby au!

Two back to back snippets: how DJ got his nickname, and how Damas caused A Misunderstanding (long post, be forewarned)

Nickname

"Daxter!!"

Tess brightened, flinging her arms open.

"Angel!"

Daxter leaped up onto the bed, careful to avoid the stack of pillows Tess was using to prop up her swollen ankle.

"How's my best gal doing?"

Tess fell back against the headboard with a groan. "Booooooored. Nobody can get out to check Dead Town for old medpacks, so I'm stuck in here for now. I hope Krew isn't being too hard on you!"

Daxter scoffed. "Pssh. Me? Never. He finally appreciates my skill in drink mixing."

A snort of derision from just below the bed contradicted this. Tess noted the pitch of the voice and raised her brows.

"No fights on the way here to get the eco out?"

Daxter cuddled up next to her and shrugged. "I think he just wanted to feel safe, actually. He's getting better at transforming at will!"

Tess smiled and patted the bed. "Hey goober! Come on up!"

Little black claws appeared at the edge of the blanket and scrambled for purchase. Tess didn't really understand why he didn't just adjust his height -- he had full control over the proportions of his limbs like this. But she didn't mention it. Jak was so much happier in this state, acting more like Daxter said he did before they came to Haven. Tess may not have had a full picture of what was going on in that prison when Daxter rescued Jak, but she knew what complex trauma looked like. If it made Jak feel happier, feel safer to be some kind of little goblin, then who was Tess to stop him?

"C'mere, kiddo." Tess reached over to help him up.

With a little gasp of triumph, Jak scooted up over the edge and flung his arms up in a victory pose. His sleeves, sized for a teenaged boy of regular size, unrolled themselves with the motion and flopped over his hands. The travel-sized dark warrior shook them in annoyance, sending them flapping back and forth.

"Awww, come here you cutie!"

Tess scooped him up and danced her fingers over his sides.

"Tickle tickle tickle!"

Jak hissed, but his ear to ear grin gave him away as he batted at Tess’s hands.

"Weirdo sis!" he signed with a snort. "Daxter help!"

"Look bud, she was gonna go after one of us. You gotta take one for the team," Daxter said. "I just got this fur combed flat."

"Who's my favorite murderbuddy? Dee-Jaaaay! DJ's my favorite murderbuddy!" Tess sang, scrubbing her knuckles across the hissing eco being's scalp.

Daxter scratched his nose and frowned. "Huh? DJ?"

"Yeah!" Tess grinned at him. "Dark-eco Jak! DJ! Get it?"

The ottsel looked over at Jak, who was clearly enjoying being fussed over for a change.

"DJ...huh. Whaddya think of that, pal?"

"Yop!"

A soft look overtook Daxter. He reached out to muss Jak's hair. "Alright, DJ it is."

"Yee!" The newly nicknamed DJ flailed his arms even faster in excitement. The sleeves smacked Tess and Daxter in the face. It was absolutely on purpose.

He didn't know why everything was more fun at this size -- was it because there were more things to climb on? Because fights were more of a challenge? Because people were nicer to him? -- but he loved how wild and big all the eco -- and even all his feelings were. Most of the time.

He didn't like Big Sad and Big Scared. He had to go back to tall DJ during those feelings to get them under control. Or let Sig carry him around, but sometimes that was embarrassing.

"Torn is going to come back here before long," Tess warned the boys, "So if you didn't want to do some work today you'll have to make yourself scarce."

DJ began to snicker and pulled his scarf over his head like he was hiding before flailing his arm out from underneath. Daxter cackled, knowing immediately what Jak was suggesting.

"No, bud, I don't think Tattooed Wonder would appreciate it if you hid under the bed and grabbed his ankle when he walked by. It would be funny though."

"Nooo that's so mean!" Tess giggled.

DJ kicked his arms and legs up in the air, made a croaking screech, acting out what he thought Torn's reaction would be before collapsing into giggles as well.

"You're a menace, DJ," Tess cooed, scratching the base of Jak's horn nubs.

"Why yes," DJ signed, "Yes I am."

Damas Causes Problems (on purpose)

"No leads on Mar yet."

Sig slouched in the corner booth, eyeing the empty bar as he spoke quietly into his talk-box. "Been trying to work out why Jak does the...the thing. Why he looks like a desaturated Mar when he does it. All I got is that Praxis picked up a hu'men experimentation hobby."

"I wish I could say that didn't sound like a logical progression of his depravity," Damas hissed on the other end of the line. "Do you...know which form is Jak’s natural one?"

Sig knew what Damas was thinking. He'd wondered it himself. Was Jak made in Praxis's lab? Was the tiny child resembling Mar his truest form and the young teenager a disguise to protect him?

But to the best of his knowledge, it was the other way around.

"The taller one -- with- with Mar's kinda hair -- that's his base shape. He's still learning how to control the dark stuff. That's why he gets stuck in Baby Mode as often as he does. Used to make him real mad, now he just thinks it's funny. But while we're on the subject...I have a request. I know you don't want to get involved in the civil war beyond runnin' guns, but-"

"Spit it out, Sig."

Sig rubbed the skin under his prosthetic eye and groaned.

"I'm scared for Jak, man. Every time I see him, he's weaker. Kid’s about to drop over the edge of exhaustion and he keeps trudging on because he says "they" told him to. And I'm pretty sure he's talkin' about the Underground. Now, I know it's off agenda, but- I wanna follow him back. Find out whose trying to work him to death and straighten em out."

He could almost see the shrug as Damas answered.

"Why're you asking me? He's your kid."

Something warm fluttered in Sig’s stomach and he grinned despite himself. "Yeah. He kinda is at this point, isn't he?"

The line was quiet for a few seconds. Time enough for sounds to begin emanating from the street. Then,

"When you find Mar-"

When. Not if. As if his success wasn't even in question, even after two years.

"When you bring him home, bring Jak, too. I want to meet this kid -- in person, this time."

"You think I'd let him and Daxter stay here?" Sig scoffed.

Just then, the door swung open, bringing with it the ottsel's familiar voice.

"I'm tellin' you, sweetheart, it's all about the pine-pears. Slice em, grill em, put em on the steak. I guarantee even Hoverboy will love it."

Tess walked in with the boys -- Sig didn't blame them for walking together. This wasn't the nicest neighborhood even without the KG -- and she giggled.

"Daxxie, I've never even had pine-pear. How am I supposed to convince Krew to put something on the menu if we can't get any?"

Jak looked worse than before. The circles beneath his eyes were deep and purple, and he looked dehydrated. Daxter perked up from his shoulders to glance in Sig’s direction.

Crap. He loved the boys, but they weren't ready to know about Spargus yet.

"Hey, shift's gonna be starting soon, hon. Imma have to call you back."

"I beg your pardon!?"

Damas sputtered, not sure whether to be offended or amused. After a beat, in which he must've heard the other voices, he sounded calmer. "Ah. You have company. Carry on."

"Yeah yeah yeah. No, I'll remember. Don't worry about it," Sig said quickly, and a little louder than necessary. "Milk, eggs, paper towels. You need me to grab anything else when I clock out?"

Jak stopped next to his table and cocked his head with a soft frown.

"Who you talkin' to?" he asked.

With a sardonic lilt, Damas’s voice grated in his ear.

"Oh, is that my "stepson"? Tell him to take a nap."

"Tell him yourself!"

"Sure. Watch your ears."

And before he had time to brace himself, Sig had his ears ringing as Damas raised his voice and loudly called,

"Hey kid! Be good for your old man today. Take a nap when he tells you to this time."

Sig flushed scarlet from the tip of his ears to his neck when he heard the usually stoic king burst into uncontrolled cackling.

"I am going to get him for this," Sig muttered as Jak’s face twisted in confusion.

"Who the heck is that?"

"A menace, that's who," Sig growled. "Ignore him."

Jak, unfortunately, did not.

[emma-m-black]

Soul Mate Magic - Chapter Twelve

Rupert Giles x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

A new magical transfer comes to Sunnydale High, and ends up discovering a magical connection with our favorite Watcher.

OC is 19+ (Not a Minor), Age Gap, Slow Burn-ish (with a little preview thrown in there during the Bandy Candy Episode).

____

Okay so I just finished writing Chapter 20!! I'm so glad that some people seem to be enjoying this story and reading it haha 🩷 I cannot wait to get these all uploaded, and it is taking all my willpower to not just post everything right now, but I'm gonna try and do a few days in between each post.

____

Author Master List

Read: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven,

Chapter Twelve:

Since Christmas Eve, Rose had barely a moment to herself, suffocated by the constant presence of her new-found friends. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate their concern, but their pitiful glances and whispered conversations behind her back gnawed at her nerves. She needed time—time to breathe, time to think. She craved silence from their endless protection. When classes finally resumed, it was her first chance to at least be alone in the crowd, despite Buffy and Giles’s lingering disapproval.

The ride to Sunnydale High in Oz’s van was a brief escape, but not nearly enough. By the time Rose sat down for English, the weight of everything pressed on her once again. She let her mind wander, her pen idly scratching across the notebook page when she felt it—a flicker of magic, like the brush of cold air against her skin. Her notebook lifted ever so slightly off the desk.

Her heart pounded as she found a folded scrap of paper underneath. The ink had bled through hints of jagged letters on the other side. Rose glanced at Willow beside her, but her friend was engrossed in her own work. Slowly, with careful fingers, she unfolded the note beneath her book.

If you want answers, you need to get away from your annoyingly attached friends. Use the cafeteria exit. Your equally annoying family isn’t watching it. - Ethan

Her breath caught in her throat. Ethan. A trick, maybe, but what would her family gain from pretending to be him? And why now? Despite the warning bells ringing in her head, it was tempting. Ethan was part of Giles’s magical past—a piece of the puzzle Rose had been desperately trying to solve.

It’s worth the risk.

There was no slipping away unnoticed if Willow caught wind of her plan. Rose steadied her breath, whispering a word beneath it, “Subsisto.“ The world around her froze mid-motion: the teacher, the ticking clock, the tapping of pencils. Time held still as she darted from her seat, her bag and books clutched to her chest.

Once in the hall, the spell’s effect ebbed. She could already feel it faltering. Heart hammering in her chest, she rushed toward the cafeteria exit, knowing Willow would soon be on her trail. Sunlight blinded her as she burst through the doors, but she barely had time to register Ethan’s dark, triumphant smile before everything went black.

When Rose awoke, cold tile pressed against her cheek, the metallic stench of mildew filling her lungs. Disoriented, she blinked through the haze clouding her mind. Where am I? A dingy bathroom spun into focus, and her stomach twisted as fear anchored in her gut.

“What—?” Her voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Ethan’s face came into view, a smirk plastered across his face as he crouched in front of her. “Why, hello love.”

Her first instinct was to lunge at him, but a sharp jolt of pain held her back. She looked down—her wrists were bound in thick iron cuffs, etched with runes that pulsed faintly. Chains rattled as she struggled, securing her to a rusted pipe behind her. Panic surged through her as she reached for her magic, only to find emptiness. The familiar spark was gone.

“They negate your magic.” Ethan’s voice dripped with amusement as Rose continued her futile attempts to summon her power. “Did you really think I’d meet you without a way to nullify your power? Plus, this keeps you hidden from both your lover and your family.”

Rose gritted her teeth. “So, this was all just a trap.”

“Yes and no,” Ethan replied, standing up and dusting off his hands. “I needed to separate you from your babysitters. As much as I enjoy chaos, I have information you want and I don’t need the band of misfits trying to kill me.”

Her mind raced, but it kept circling back to Giles—how furious he would be, how reckless she’d been. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

Ethan’s smile widened, a glint of malevolence in his eyes. “Because it will kill Ripper to know the truth, and nothing gives me more pleasure than watching him self-destruct. So don’t worry, today is not the day you die, Rose.”

His words struck like a knife, slicing through her resolve. The air around her felt heavier, suffocating. “Why do you hate him so much?” Rose spat, though her voice wavered.

“Hate? Oh, darling, I don’t hate him. I pity him.” Ethan crossed his arms, his tone thick with sarcasm. “Your white knight, hiding behind his books, preaching about morality when he’s done worse than most of the monsters he fights.”

Rose’s heart pounded in her chest. “If I’m here to just listen to you slander him, you’re wasting your breath. Rupert is a good man.”

“Is he now?” Ethan’s gaze bore into her. “Tell me, those feelings you have for him—do they feel real? Or are they just a spell, carefully crafted to bind you to him?”

Her blood ran cold. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s a spell, love.” His voice was low, almost gentle, as though he enjoyed watching her break. “Years ago, Ripper and I performed a little ritual. A spell to draw out the one person whose magic would perfectly complement our own. Someone who would satisfy every need, every desire. We were lonely men dear, you have to understand. However, it is my luck that your pesky family curse has made everything so much more fun. “

Rose’s breath hitched, the world around her narrowing into a suffocating tunnel. “A spell?“

Her heart splintered under the weight of his words. Everything she had felt—her attraction to Giles, her growing connection—was it all fabricated and by Giles himself? Tears stung the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to give Ethan the satisfaction of seeing her crumble.

“We thought we did it wrong, that it didn’t work. Then, to my surprise, about five years ago, I found him. Hugh was my everything; we complimented each other perfectly... until the Watchers killed him for using dark magic.” Ethan’s voice was quieter now, but the bitterness behind his words cut deep. Then he left the room, his retreat leaving a hollow silence.

Rose’s pulse quickened, her heart pounding against her chest. It wasn’t just the realization that Ethan had lost someone—someone who completed him, just like she thought Giles did for her—but the creeping fear that slithered into her mind. Was her bond with Giles just an illusion? Just another manipulation?

“So this is all revenge on Rupert because the Council killed the man you bewitched into loving you?” she asked, her voice strained as she pulled at the cuffs, trying to loosen her wrist even a fraction.

Ethan reappeared, a twisted smile tugging at his lips. “No, I’ve wanted revenge on Ripper for much longer than that. Hugh... he gave me a purpose, a new life. But now that he’s gone, what else is there?” He stepped forward, the glint of something cold in his hand catching Rose’s attention.

Her heart dropped as she saw the blade—a ceremonial dagger, its hilt adorned with the same runes that marked her family’s coven. Recognition hit her like a punch to the gut. “How did you get that?” Her voice trembled with fear she could no longer suppress.

“You’re not the only one with friends, love.” Ethan’s smirk deepened as he leaned casually against the doorframe. He twirled the dagger, the metal catching the dim light, making her stomach churn. “Now, here’s where you find yourself, Rose. I want access to your coven’s magic. In exchange, I’ll give you the spell to sever the magical aspect of your romantic connection with Ripper. He’ll still be your guardian in this little curse of yours, but you’ll be free from the... nasty effect your death will have on him.”

Rose felt the walls closing in, her breaths growing shallow as panic settled in her chest. “Why would I even bother? I’m going to die anyway. What difference does it make?” The words came out sharper than she intended, though beneath them was a thread of desperation she couldn’t mask.

“The spell, love.” Ethan’s eyes gleamed with a cruel satisfaction. “Judging by how close you two were when I first met you, I’d wager you’ve already consummated your bond—emotionally and physically. That’s how the spell fully connects, you see. It ties you to each other in ways you can’t escape. If you die...” He let the words hang in the air, his grin widening. “Rupert dies too.”

Rose’s heart stopped, her blood running cold. “What?” Her voice barely escaped her lips. A strangled whisper as the weight of his words settled on her like a shroud. “But...”

Ethan’s smile widened. “But I’m alive, aren’t I? See, I severed the connection between myself and Hugh long before his death. I’m not one for being tied down and when I realized the love, I felt was a result of the spell, I found a way to break it.” He paused, watching her intently, savoring her unraveling. “Unfortunately, we really did love each other, so it still felt like my heart was being ripped out when his was pierced with a dagger. So, here’s your dilemma, love. If you die, are you going to take Ripper with you?”

“No...” Rose’s throat tightened, her vision blurring as tears welled in her eyes. The book Anya had shown her—the passage about the bond—it had been true. All of it, just not in the context they thought. “No,” she whispered again, as if saying it enough times would make it false, but deep down, she knew. She had known for a while that what she felt was deep down was only magic.

“You really are unlucky, aren’t you?” Ethan cooed, circling her like a predator, savoring its prey. “Cursed by your ancestors and bewitched by a warlock... It’s almost poetic.”

The first tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it, but once it started, more followed. She couldn’t hold back the flood of emotions crashing into her all at once. The love she thought was hers—real and pure—was a fabrication, an enchantment woven into the very fabric of her being.

“So... it’s all a lie?” Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. The room felt impossibly small, the walls pressing in as her heart broke into pieces.

“No, not entirely. The love I felt for Hugh was still there after I broke the spell, even when I didn’t want to feel it.” Ethan crouched down in front of her, brushing a tear from her cheek with a mockingly gentle touch. “The connection would have been there, but without the spell and given your age differences, you’d have dismissed it as a fleeting crush. And Rupert, well, he would’ve remained the saintly, rule-abiding Watcher, keeping his distance, never acting on his feelings.”

A sob caught in her throat as another tear slipped free. Ethan’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched her crumble. “But I could have never expected what I would find here in Sunnydale, here you are... bound to him in ways you can’t control. Tell me, Rose, do you really want to take him with you to the grave?”

Rose closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the cold wall, feeling utterly defeated. Her mind raced, spinning through the impossible choices laid before her. She couldn’t bear the thought of Giles—Rupert—dying because of her. But to sever the bond meant surrendering to Ethan, allowing him into her coven’s magic. Was there any way out? Any path that wouldn’t end in ruin?

“I can’t do the ritual like this.” Her voice was hoarse, broken as she lifted her shackled wrists slightly in a half-hearted gesture.

“I’m well aware,” Ethan responded smoothly.

“Well?” Rose whispered, her voice trembling as she glanced down at the enchanted cuffs biting into her wrists.

“I’m not stupid, love,” Ethan replied smoothly, his tone condescending as he eyed her restraints. “I’m not releasing you until we’re ready for the ritual. Besides, I’d like Ripper to stew in his own guilt a little longer before we meet up again. Once the time comes, we’ll gather with your do-gooder friends, and once you’ve brought me into the coven, I’ll give you the spell to sever your connection with your beloved Watcher.”

He straightened himself, his gaze cold and calculating as it bore down on her. “But I think I’d like to see you a bit weaker before that. Can’t have you overpowering me, now can we? You see, with those cuffs binding you, the longer you and Ripper are apart, the weaker you’ll both become.” His smile was a cruel, deliberate thing, full of satisfaction. “Gotta even the playing field somehow, because I want to enjoy watching Rupert lose yet another woman he cares for.”

Rose’s heart pounded painfully in her chest as Ethan turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him. The moment she was alone, the silence of the musty bathroom swallowed her whole. It was as if every fear and doubt she’d been holding back came crashing down in an unrelenting wave. Her breath hitched, and before she could stop it, the sobs ripped from her throat, raw and helpless.

Her body shook as she cried, the weight of Ethan’s words crashing over her. Every tear that fell was a reminder of how trapped she was—physically, emotionally, magically. The truth carved itself deeper into her heart with every ragged breath. Her love for Giles twisted into a cruel, unnatural connection. It wasn’t real, none of it was real.

And yet, the pain that tore through her wasn’t a lie. The fear of what was happening to them—of what could happen to Giles—was all too real. Ethan’s game, his twisted manipulation, had reduced her to this—bound, broken, and desperate, with no clear way out.

Each sob that wracked her body felt like a betrayal of her own strength, but she couldn’t stop.

Chapter Thirteen

[cosmicstarlatte]

could you make the virginity obey me prompt with mc being the virgin one? it justs feeds into my corruption kink— (and honestly they would be so so careful and have so much after care with them after, the thought of it just warms my heart)

nsfw 18+ // minors dni

[OG] // ah this has been sitting a while, I managed to do Lucifers and Beels. The 3 others are half finished but I don't think I'll ever complete them so I'm just gonna post what I have lol.

tags: incomplete, nsfw 18+, virgin gn mc, obey me, luci, mam, levi, beel, dia

Lucifer: "Shh...you're doing so well."

When you admitted to him in hopes he'd take your virginity, he was more than willing. It's not everyday a human virgin would like to sleep with a demon. Besides that fact, he felt honored you would want to him to be your first. You, who changed his life. Lucifer loved you and was already planning a night you wouldn't forget.

~~~

How could he not let out a soft groan as he thrusted into you when you looked and sounded so lewd? You looked so perfect underneath him, even with tear filled eyes. He watched as he slid his fat cock in and out of your tiny greedy virgin hole, sucking him in. As much as he tried to be gentle, he started getting rougher, faster with each thrust. You were just so fucking tight. He kissed your forehead, "do you know how perfect you are? Youre doing so well..." After he made sure both of you came, he placed a kiss upon your forehead and asked how you were feeling. He gave you some water & cuddled with you for a few minutes before excusing himself to go start a bath for you two, promising more warm cuddles for the rest of the night.

Beel: "...f-fuck so good...talk to me okay?"

In all honesty, Beel wasn't prepared for this. He's never slept with a virgin before, plus a human one? But if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he was going to take his time with you and make sure you were okay.

~~~

Beel hissed as he felt your warmth clench around him, he tried so hard to not move further until you adjusted more to his size. The two of you could feel his cock twitching, begging for more friction, desperately wanting to go deeper. He heard you whimper and kissed your forehead letting you know you were okay and safe. He felt you ease up a little more and when you finally gave the OK, he growled. Small grunts escaped him as he started rutting into you. He checked frequently to make sure you were still doing fine. (He's a big boy!) After you both finished he cuddled up with you for a few minutes asking how it was. He excused himself a moment to get you both snacks to re-energize and rehydrate before coming back to snuggle with you.

(These next three are half finished & unedited)

Mammon: "T-that's it, just like that."

His brain short circuited when you asked him if he could officially be your first. There was no way he was going to say no to that.

~~~

It was a new experience but one he wouldn't let you down on. He's never been the best with words but he'd be damned if he didnt get his heart across to you. He wanted you to feel safe and comfortable. Giving yourself to someone can be scary but he didn't want you to feel that way. "There we go...perfect, you're doing, hah, great,". Slow deep strokes and kisses to your face, he praised you all he could.

Levi: "Haah!...i-is this okay?"

You wanted him to be your first!? Levi nearly passed out at your confession. Okay that was a lie, he did in fact pass out. Can you really blame him!?

~~~

After sex he cuddles up with you and can't stop kissing you, making sure you feel all the love and appreciation he has for you. He takes a moment to pop a fun simple game into the tv for the two of you to play, making sure to give you a kiss on your head every so often~

Diavolo: "I got you, it's okay, shhh."

It's safe to say he never imagined you giving up your virginity to him, but here you are, the giant demon looming over you with his swollen cock poking at your prepped entrance.

~~~

-------

That's it lol sorry 😭

[beaker1636]

The Scavenger Hunt Pt. 2 - Confessions

AN: was going to wait until tomorrow to post this, but I’m really into this story and may or may not have written almost all of it, because I think it’s absolutely adorable so you all can have a double update of it today!

“So which park are we going to, you can’t just tell me that we are going to ‘the park’,” your sister teases you, she knows which park you mean because she remembers you coming back from that walk the two of you took with a smile, telling her that he somehow liked you too, that you were going on a date together the next week.

“Backbone, we intended to go for a walk but we spent a couple hours sitting on the beach instead, watching the sun set that night. We got some weird looks, being the only people in all black on the beach, but we had a lot of fun. Wound up renting one of those paddle boat things and messing around in the lake. At some point I lost one of my sandals in the water, remember the look on your face when I came home barefoot?” you ask, looking at her in the driver's seat with a smile.

“Oh yeah, I asked you if you lost your sandals when you beat him with them. You thought I was nuts,” she laughs at the memory, continuing the drive.

“You are nuts, but yeah I did. You questioned me so hard that night, asking me if I was sure he was worth my time and everything,” you say, thinking about that night.

“To be fair, the guys before Rick we're all duds, you never were much good at picking a decent man. I didn’t want you getting hurt by an idiot again,” she admits. “Luckily he hasn’t.”

“Okay, you said that you have to guess the beach part? We are almost to that part of the park, you ready to figure out your next puzzle?” She asks you, pulling into the parking lot before she stops.

“Of course, but I have no clue where it would be…. Wait, is that Chris?” You ask her, noticing the tall man at the other end of the beach sitting there.

“Looks like it, maybe he has your next puzzle?” She asks you, both of you starting to walk across the sand towards him. Luckily with it being early spring and not the warmest there isn’t anyone else here, only the two of you.

“Hey, about time the two of you showed up. You look beautiful as always, are you ready for your next puzzle y/n?” He asks you, pulling you into a tight hug as you approach him.

“Yes, and thank you by the way, for helping with whatever the hell this is,” you say with a smile, appreciating him taking his time out of his day to do this for you.

“Of course, I am always happy to help with things, but that is all you are getting out of me. Anyways, there are 12 hidden orange shells on this beach that you have to find and bring back to me, once you do I will have your next letter and rose. You better start searching!” He says, his eyes meeting yours while he smiles.

“I know you probably can’t help, but do you want to walk with us? That way you aren’t just sitting here watching me and bored?” You ask him, a slight giggle emerging as you think of him just sitting there by himself, watching you.

“Of course, after you,” he says, starting to follow you as you begin to walk around the beach, finding a couple shells easily as you start but quickly realizing that some are going to be harder to find.

You notice a bucket laying upside down on the beach and walk over to pick it up, smiling when you find one underneath it and hand it to Chris, who has agreed to carry them all for you.

“That’s 3, only 9 more to go,” he says.

“Just because I am curious, did he hide them or did you when you came here to do this for me?” You ask Chris, continuing to walk through the sand as you keep looking. Finding another one by a tree trunk that you hand to him.

“He did, I just showed up with what he told me to bring and waited for you. All of this was set up by him, each puzzle is one he came up with for you and got together, we are just helping him with them. He did send me a list of where they all are so if you take hours to find them I can help you but so far it doesn’t seem like you are going to need my help.” He teases you, nudging your side as you pick up your fifth shell, this one was was next to a pair of sandals, the same color as the ones that you lost when you two came here the first time.

When you laugh they both look at you like you are crazy, wanting the story of why you are laughing at where the shell was.

“Okay, so what is this laugh about,” your sister asks, an amused smile on her face as she watches the joy that spreads across yours.

“Remember how I lost a sandal that day, it was a pink one. I’ve given him shit ever since that he owes me a new pair of pink flip flops, I guess he replaced them for me today,” you say with a smile. “I lost it down in the water, we had to take a couple steps to get into the paddle boat and I sank into the mud, we couldn’t find it after that.”

“I remember that, you came home with mud all over your legs that night, I didn’t know that was why. That is funny,” your sister says, taking a sip of her coffee.

You find number six quickly, having made your way to the paddle boats after reliving that memory and finding one sitting on the seat of the number that the two of you had rented that day. Number 7 was right on the edge of the beach, where you had fallen in the mud that time.

“Nice try Rick, not gonna fall in it this time,” you mumble, making Chris and Kayla laugh behind you at your words. Both of them mostly letting you do your thing while they chat behind you.

You see number 8 and let out a groan. “Ugh that little fucker, Chris, can you reach that one up in the tree? We both know that I can’t,” you ask, giving Chris a sweet smile and hoping that he will just help you with it.

“I guess, not sure if that breaks the rules or not but I can,” he says, laughing and reaching it for you, quickly adding it to the bag that he has with him to put them all in. You give him a playful shove before starting back on your mission again.

Number 9 is underneath a towel that you find down the beach a little more.

“3 left, you are getting so close y/n!” Your sister exclaims, her hand giving one of yours a squeeze, encouraging you.

Number 10 is on a log that is halfway in the water, number 11 underneath it where the log sticks up. You let out a sigh, hoping that you find number 12 soon. As much as you are enjoying this you just want to move on to the next thing, want to get this show on the road. You have never been much of a patient person so having to do a task like this, that takes a lot of time and patience is starting to annoy you.

About 15 minutes later you finally notice a sandcastle in the middle of the beach, letting out a groan as you make your way over to it and notice that the last shell is sitting on the top of it, almost like it was mocking you.

“Thank fucking god, here Chris, your final shell. Can I have my letter now?” You ask, making both of them laugh at how quick you were to ask for it, ready to read what to do next and what Ricky has to say.

Baby,

You have finished the second puzzle, you are getting closer. I know this one tested your patience a bit, but I wanted it to. That day seemed to test your patience, nothing was going how we wanted it to. Both of us leaving covered in mud, you missing a shoe, me not having the guts to ask you on that date until we made it back to your house when I was dropping you off. That day really tested both of our patience.

But when we did ride that stupid swan paddle boat I remember how much you smiled, how beautiful you looked with the smile on your face as we watched the sunset from the beach that night. How well we seemed to get along despite the challenges of the day, that despite the fact most people would have been upset about the mud, about losing a sandal, you took it in stride and still enjoyed the day, that smile never leaving your face. In fact you laughed when you fell into the mud before me trying to find your sandal, the laugh that is still my favorite sound in the world.

That night showed me who you are, how positive you are, and gave me the courage to admit I liked you finally, and breathed a breath of fresh air when you said you felt the same way.

To figure out where you are to go next the shells spell it out, arrange them into words and you will know where you are to go next. When you are done let Chris keep them, he will make sure they get back to us but you have enough to carry and worry about today.

I love you, and can’t wait for you to see what else is in store.

Rick

You look at Chris, who is handing you the bag of shells after you have read the letter out loud before you take a seat on the beach. Lay them all out in front of you as you start to move shells around, figure out different words they could possibly spell before it hits you and you move them.

“Our First Date,” you say softly, looking up at your sister and Chris who are watching you as you solve this.

“Well, tell me where we need to go,” your sister says, helping you off the beach while you brush your sand off your dress.

You turn, pulling Chris into another hug and thanking him again for his part in this while he hands you your third rose.

The tag on this one reads “I love that you love me, accept me despite all my flaws and baggage.”

[countrymusiclover]

17 - My Cousin Jo

Part 18

Gemini Runaway

Tag list ask to be added @dragonixfrye @secretdreamlandmentality

Am I posting at 1am when I should go to bed yes 😂 Goodnight my readers

“You finally kissed him!” Caroline Forbes’s sweet squeal came through the phone when I had barely gotten to tell her anything else about the date last night.

Pulling the phone away from my ear I put her on speaker and video call that way she wouldn’t scream in my ear again. “Yes Care and if I’m being honest I loved every second of it.”

“So was it a slow kiss or something with a bit more kick in it?” She asked me while I was walking down the stairs carrying a map in my other hand with a printed out picture of Jo that I had kept with me before she left to work as a doctor.

Sitting the map down on the kitchen table with a single candle in the center. “It was a pretty heated kiss considering we had tried to kiss like multiple times and kept getting interrupted.”

“Awe and ew at the same time. I’m sorry that I am still conflicted over this. I can’t believe it, it's so adorable. Wait, what are you doing with a map. Are you trying to do more magic after you nearly died by Esther’s spell?” She knitted her brows at me in confusion.

Opening a drawer I grabbed one of the knives sitting on the phone on the table. “How do you know about that? I didn’t tell you about that.”

“Bonnie spilled the beans after I was comforting her because Damon killed her mom to stop the ritual but you managed to do it all on your own.” The blonde vampire admitted.

“Oh sorry Caroline. Tell her I’m sorry but I am not sure she will accept it.” Raising the blade I sliced it across my palm sitting the picture in the center of the map letting my blood drop onto the picture.

She got closer to the phone screen seeing what I was doing. “What witchy spell are you doing this time, Rae?”

“Yes I would like to know as well, Raelyn.” Whipping my head up and throwing my hair over my shoulders Klaus entered the room wearing a black jacket thrown over a gray sweatshirt, waving to the blonde on my phone. “You should be resting after my mothers spell nearly killed you. Hello Caroline.”

She waved back at him. “Hi Klaus. He’s right Raelyn you should just come over to my house and we can party and get drunk.”

“I appreciate the offer and concern but I have to see someone in my family. My cousin Josette.” I picked up the knife about to cut my hand but Klaus grabbed my wrist with his vamp speed.

His blue eyes trained on mine where we were very close to one another. “You’re not going alone. I am coming with you. I don’t know this woman.”

“She would never hurt me, Nik.” I fought against his parodied mind knowing my cousin better than he ever would. “She’s the person who taught me almost every spell I know.”

Caroline clapped her hands together, gaining our attention once more. “Hold up if you’re talking about a road trip then I want to come too.”

“Alright fine you both can come. Now can I do the spell. I need to find her exact location or we won’t be going anywhere.” I caved in knowing otherwise he wouldn’t let me leave Mystic Falls without someone to watch out for me.

He released my wrist allowing me to slice the blade across my palm offering his right hand out to me. “Caroline, you get everything prepared. I’ll get the car.”

“Phasmatos tribum, nas ex viras sequita saguines ementas asten mihan ega petrous…” The blood moved across the map slowly circling around a spot that was located as Whitmore College. “Looks like we’re going to college, Caroline.”

“Rae, your nose.” Klaus pointed out.

Holding my hand underneath my nose there was some blood but I waved it off sniffling so it would go away in a little bit. “I’ll be fine. We’re going to find Jo.”

It was an hour later when I saw a small chair be left in the driveway and for Caroline to vamp up to the door ringing the doorbell. She flung her arms open with a bottle of wine in her hands wrapping her arms around me. "I come with alcohol, my friend."

"Hi Care, Nik should be coming down in a second. I looked up the directions to the college." I told her hugging her back before Klaus vamped downstairs.

He held open his palm eyeing Caroline. "I'll drive ladies."

"Why do you need to drive. Are you trying to be the Alpha male?" She snapped.

He smirked, sending me a look since I wasn't saying anything. "I am the Alpha male and I know that you two will probably want to talk."

"Yeah but I am cam drive and talk at the same time." She got in his face.

Holding my hands up I pushed in between them. "Okay, Nik just drive there. Caroline you drive home. Let's go." The three of us got in the car and for the most part of it was spent in silence. Klaus had one hand on the steering wheel while he drove.

"So you said your cousin taught you magic. How old were you and what about the rest of your family?" Caroline asked, sitting in the backseat with me in the front passenger seat.

Turning back around to her I sighed thinking about what Jo started teaching me magic. "I was a teenager. As for the rest of my family they view me as a witch against them. She's always accepted what I am because her brother was the same. Even though he tried to kill her."

Walking into my bedroom Jo sat down with her bag on my bed sitting down across from me. She had her hair very shorter than mine was at the time. “You know I don’t care what the rest of our Coven says right. You are a witch even if you weren’t born with your own magic.”

“What makes you think that I was thinking that, cuz?” I asked her surprised that she would even be right on the money about it.

She sent me a look flipping through pages in a notebook that had some specific spells written down that she felt were important. “By the look in your eyes, Rae. My brother Kai is just like you an outcast so that is why he was sent away because he let his anger take control over him. I have faith you won’t ever do that. Now these are just a few of the spells I think can be useful since we won’t always be around one another, repeat after me.”

“Alright. Are we holding hands too?” I questioned knowing that I could siphon away her magic.

She shook her head yes holding out her open palms so I placed my hands on top of hers. “Don’t worry I stored my magic away in a hunting knife you won’t hurt me, Raelyn. Now pay attention…..Phasmatos tribum exum sue redem su pas quo.”

“Phasmatos tribum exum sue redem su pas quo - A spell to take away a witches power.” I repeated her.

She praised me. “Good what about this one, Te ni rien a boka.”

“Family members interact through consciousness.”

She smiled nodding in my direction. “Phasmatos tribum melan veras raddiam onu pavadus ponemus.”

“A linking spell. Thank you for helping me, Jo.” I dropped our hands wrapping my arms around her in a gentle hug.

She wrapped her arms around me where we just remained in that position for a while. “I will always be there for you. We are family no matter what. Witches or not, we look out for each other.”

Walking up to the room that had her name on it I paused raising my hand turning towards the pair standing behind me. “If you two wouldn’t mind staying out here. I need to speak with her privately.”

“Sure.” Caroline nodded.

“Rae..” Klaus began until she nudged him with her elbow so he took it back. “Fine, we will be out here if you need anything.”

Turning back on my feet I pushed the door quickly opened and closed, locking it behind me before Klaus could change his mind. “Excuse me but you can’t just come in here - Raelyn?”

“Hi Jo, did you miss me?” I waved with a light smile seeing her rise from her desk wearing a white lab coat immediately dropping her notebook.

My cousin rushed towards me wrapping me in a tight hug. “Ohhh! How are you. How…why are you here. I mean not that I overjoyed to see you it’s just..”

“It’s fine. I know it’s unexpected but I just needed to see you.” I broke the hug where she grabbed another chair letting me sit down when she pulled her chair across from me wanting for me to start talking.

She clasped her hands together. “So what do you need to get off your chest. Is it about what happened to Jacob?”

“How did my mother find your location exactly because she came to Mystic Falls and begged me to forgive her after she lied to me about how someone wins the Merge.”

Jo covers her mouth releasing some tears. “Oh gosh. I…she didn’t come alone Rae. My father was with her and he came to check up on me but I should have guessed he came after you when I felt Jacob's spirit die. I…I’m…I’m sorry I had no idea he was using her to find you.”

“The Coven dies if I don’t take my place as leader before he dies.”

“Well I don’t care about that. If you don’t want to be in charge of everyone then you don’t have to do anything. I chose to protect Lucas and Olivia from my brother. I chose to put my magic away after he was gone, you deserve to choose your own life too.” She pushed her black hair from her face, placing her hands over mine in my lap.

Slumping my shoulders I blurted my next words quickly not sure if I could keep thinking I was going crazy anymore. “I saw him, Jo. I saw your brother Kai.”

“What do you mean, Rae?” She made a face at me.

Huffing in a long breath I shifted my shoulders removing my hands away from hers playing with my thumbs while I spoke. “There is someone on the other side of the door that is named Klaus Mikaelson. He is one of the first vampires in history and I recently met his mother who tried to kill me. I was able to stop the spell she was doing to murder all of her vampire children but after I blacked out I saw him. I saw him eating pork rinds and he attempted to siphon me before I regained consciousness.”

“So you’re saying that you went to his prison world and came back out. Does that mean he is free, oh crap if he is he will come straight for me.” She began to panic rising to her feet until I called her name.

“Josette! I don’t know what it was but he can’t possibly be here. I can’t siphon him out of his prison world. That can’t be remotely possible even for a siphon witch. I am just saying that whatever happened to me can’t be good. It must have been something to do with the strength of the spell I took on cause I almost died ... .or I would have been dead if it wasn’t for Klaus.”

Jo slumped her shoulders finally calming down, still confused almost as much as I was about this whole thing. “Alright so what exactly do you think I can do about this. I’m not saying that I won’t help but what happened after you siphoned the magic of the spell away from this woman?”

“I passed out and took almost all her magic but…Dic mihi hva du vet…” Jo gasped as I spoke the next part into her mind so that Caroline and Klaus couldn’t hear us since I didn’t have any sage to burn to prevent them from listening in otherwise. “You have to promise not to say anything to the guy and girl outside this door that came with me, this started happening after I did the spell to find you.”

Rolling up the sleeves of my shirt on my right arm I held my forearm out to her seeing her eyes go wide in shock and horror at what she saw. The black veins that had first appeared the spell to consume Esther spell had returned and we’re making their way up my arm. “Holy crap, cuz. We are in serious trouble. If…if that gets worse then you might.”

“Die, I know Jo.” I sniffed through some tears knowing Klaus would hate me if I told him I might die so I needed to fix this before he ever found out about it. “You’re the only family member I trust so I am begging for your help with this.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[fixfoxnox]

Something In The Orange - Part 20

Description: Roach is out of the hospital and back on base

Warnings: Mental Health discussions, guilt/self hatred, discussion of dubious consent/SA

Note: I am also posting this to my Ao3 if you would prefer to read it there

Word Count: 7.9k

"I swear I've known you from another time

And I caught you down the line, but I couldn't stop you moving

And when I found you by the riverside

It's waters wild and wide, you left me again"

"After Many Miles" - The Ghost of Paul Revere

“How are you feeling today?” 

Roach shifted uncomfortably in his seat, letting his hands rub nervously over the fabric of the couch underneath him as he tried to formulate a response. “Fine,” he settled on after a moment. “Ready to get this over with.”

The woman across from him gave a small, comforting smile, “I know this is hard,” she folded her hands in front of her patiently, “Most people who I see struggle through these sessions. That’s okay. You should know that.” Roach didn’t respond, he only shifted nervously again before giving her a nod. “How was your time off?”

Roach almost gave a snort at the question, his mind calling back to the past month and a half of his life, all spent at home with his family. “Tiring,” he said after a moment, “I’m not used to spending so much time at home.”

“I guess your family spent a lot of time doting on you?”

“If by doting on me,” Roach shook his head fondly, “You mean watching my every move like a hawk. Then yes, they spent quite a bit of time doting on me.” His mind called back to the way his mother had refused to let him do anything for himself the first week or so after he’d been released from the hospital. The way his brothers had come by almost every day to check up on him. 

The time at home had been refreshing to him. Sure, it was a little annoying to be home, only able to talk to the other members of the 141 over the phone as the team was forced back to work much sooner than him. And sure, it was a little overwhelming to spend so much time at home after years of coming back for only a week or so at a time. But it was also wonderful, so unbelievably wonderful.

He hadn’t ever spent so much time around his nieces and nephews. He’d seen them so often that he found it easy to understand why his brothers had decided to have so many of them. Spending time with his brothers again was a blessing. For the first time in this life, he was really able to appreciate the two men, really able to appreciate how much they cared about him. It made him mourn his childhood a bit, sad that he’d been so wrapped up in his own grief that he’d missed so much time with them. 

Then there were his parents. He knew that they were happy to have him home, but he’d thought that he would be more nervous to spend so much time around them. He thought that those memories of his parents in his first life would begin to haunt him again. Instead, he found that he was grateful and so happy. He found that his mother's gentleness and his father's care in this life were enough to drive the fears that his parents in his first life had instilled in him away. There was still work to be done, still, things he was trying to readjust his mind to, but he’d found it had become easier to accept his life. He found that his first life didn’t seem to plague his mind so much.

He knew now, knew that he didn’t fit into his first life anymore. It had been something he’d been trying not to accept for some time. Something he’d been pushing down for what had to be years. He’d put his first life on a pedestal, held it in such high regard in his mind, he’d let it rule his current life. Not anymore. He really wanted to live, without those memories plaguing everything that he did. It was a sad realization, that he no longer fit in his first life, but there was happiness too. Happiness that he could finally let go. 

Of course, nothing could ever be so simple for him, and, with the acceptance that he didn’t fit in his first life anymore came a new question, a new concern that plagued his mind. He didn’t fit in his first life anymore, but did he fit in this life?

He shook himself out of his thoughts, anxiety rising in his chest as his mind ventured into that rabbit hole. He focused himself back on the woman in front of him, forcing a small smile on his face, “It was nice being home, though.”

The woman watched him closely, it was like she knew what he’d just been thinking, like she knew his mind had taken a quick spiral before he’d come back to himself. She tilted her head at him, “How did your family handle your decision to return to the military?”

Roach winced at the question, he was sure it let her know that she’d landed on a sensitive subject with the question. “As well as they could.”

“I understand your mother isn’t a big fan of the military?”

“She isn’t a big fan of me being in danger,” Roach responded, his hands clenching at his sides, “She’s worried is all. She means well, but,” he trailed off, unsure of what to say. 

He’d made things worse when he told them, he knew that, It was, primarily, because he’d attempted to avoid telling them. There were papers that were sent over, things he had to sign. An agreement that he wouldn’t be put back into the field until it had been signed off by a therapist. An agreement that he’d still get to be on base, still get to train with the 141 while he waited to be allowed back into the field. There were other things too, papers about his injuries, and statements that needed to be made about his time with Makarov. Reports took up most of the papers. 

He’d intended to finish them up, sign them fully, and send them back before telling his family, ensuring that there was no way that they could try to talk him out of it. He was trying to avoid another incident like when he’d first enlisted. Another round of his family trying to talk him out of going back. He knew they would be more serious about it this time. 

He’d messed up though. “But?” The woman asked kindly, “She didn’t take it well, I assume?”

“I messed up,” Roach said lowly, gripping the fabric of his pants tightly. His fingers were still ruined, he’d still been picking and chewing at the skin there. “I was going to sign all the papers, and confirm everything before I told them.”

The woman nodded, her eyes soft, “I’m assuming they found them?”

“Yes,” Roach responded, “I went outside with some of my nieces and nephews. I guess my mom went into my room to change the sheets or something, she saw the papers.” Roach took in a breath, trying to calm himself. There were tears that threatened to form in his eyes, he could feel them in the way that his nose began to twitch and sting. “She didn’t tell me at first. Told everyone else. Had my brother and his wife take me out to dinner, when we got back, the whole family was there.”

The woman across from him scribbled something down against the clipboard she had in her hands, her face serious. “They ambushed you?”

“An intervention is what my mother said,” Roach tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling in hopes that it would help keep tears from falling down his face. It was nice to have someone confirm what he’d been thinking though, that it was an ambush. “I told them I didn’t want to talk about it. It wasn’t their decision, it was mine. Told them I was going back. Mom didn’t like that.” He brought his head back down, and brought his thumb to his mouth so he could tear at the skin there, his mind was a bit foggy with the memory, “We argued. Everyone just kinda let my mom speak for them, so it was really just me and her. She said she couldn’t understand why I would go back, why I wouldn’t just stay home with them. And I,” He cut himself off, biting against the skin of his thumb harder. He could taste blood in his mouth. 

“It’s alright,” The woman said comfortingly, “I’m not here to judge you.”

“I got frustrated. I just started yelling. I told them I couldn’t stay there, couldn’t stay home for too long. Told them I went crazy if I was around them for too long. Told them I could,” tears fell from his eyes then, his breathing becoming shaky, “told them I could see the way they looked at me. Told them I knew they still thought I was crazy.”

“Your childhood,” the woman reached out, grabbing a box of tissues from the small coffee table between them and handing it over to Roach, he took it nervously. “In your file, it mentioned that you’d been to psychologists when you were younger. Said that they’d wanted to diagnose you with PTSD, but that the head doctor would never sign off on it.” She looked down at her papers, “Forgive my language, but I do think that doctor was a piece of shit.” 

The words pulled a snort from Roach, laughter wracking his system for a few minutes. He was sure he looked crazy as he laughed, tears falling from his face that he tried to wipe away quickly, there was no judgment though, only a small smile sent his way. “That’s what my mom said,” he responded, “When I was younger. Our town was small though, no other place to go. But she held a grudge for years. Used to bake stuff for the entire building and add a little sign to it that said anyone but he could have some.”

“She sounds like she was very protective of you. Still is it seems.” Roach nodded, fondness flooding his system as he remembered his normally calm mother spitting out curses at the man because he’d refused to sign off on the diagnoses simply because there was no “identifying incident.” She’d nearly punched the man on several other occasions, something that had amused Roach, even when he was stuck in the body of a child. “I’ve amended your papers,” the woman gave him a nod, “With the information I have, it seems obvious to me that you were suffering from PTSD as a child. It’s understandable that being home for too long would bring up memories of your childhood for both you and your parents.” She tilted her head at him, watching him closely for a moment, “How did your family handle what you said?”

“It hurt them,” he shook his head at himself, guilt clawing its way up his throat from where it had been sitting neatly in his chest since he’d woken up in the hospital, “Mom just kinda went silent. Sat down. She just looked…empty?” He bit his lip, “I just felt so guilty after I said it. I left for a few hours and walked around the woods, and through town. My brother came after me. He picked me up about three hours later, drove me back home, didn’t say a word to me the entire time. I apologized to mom the next morning, she did too.”

“So you made up? That seems good.”

“I don’t know,” Roach shrugged his shoulders, biting at his fingers again, “I still feel so guilty for what happened, for what I said.”

“Did your mother seem to linger over it?”

“She was careful with me,” He noted, “Didn’t mention anything else about me coming back, though I could tell it still bothered her a bit. Other than that, it was like she just went back to normal,” he shifted in his seat again, trying hard not to consider that his mother had been more upset than she let on. 

“It seems to me,” the woman started carefully, “That perhaps your outburst was a bit of a wake-up call for her. Maybe it made her realize that she’d still been treating you like she had when you were younger. Like she still needed to protect you.” She watched him for a moment, as though reading the twisted expression that had taken over his face, “You shouldn’t linger over things that you don’t know. If your mother seemed like she was okay, like she wasn’t angry, then she probably wasn’t.”

The words took Roach by surprise and he jerked back slightly. It was as though the woman in front of him had opened up his mind and peered directly at his thoughts. It was both impressive and scary how well she’d been able to read him. He took a calming breath, trying to keep from showing how her words had affected him. “Right,” he gave a nod, “It’s just hard not to linger over it, not to worry that I hurt her.”

“I understand,” she gave him a small smile, “But you can’t linger on things you can’t control. It isn’t healthy to fixate on what-ifs.” She leaned forward slightly, “We should try to challenge those thoughts, remind ourselves that some things are out of our control. I know it can be difficult, but it’s a good tool to help us practice some of that self-love in a simple way. We’ll have to train our brains to do that. Do you understand?”

Roach nodded hesitantly. What the woman was suggesting seemed much harder than she made it out to be, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. Silence fell over the small room for a moment and Roach shifted uncomfortably once again. After another moment, he cleared his throat, looking around the room. She was watching him carefully, it was making him more nervous than he wanted to admit.

After a moment, he opened his mouth to speak, “So,” he started, rubbing his hands against his pants to try to comfort himself, “Is that it then? I get to go back on duty because I talked about my mommy issues?”

The woman’s mouth quirked up slightly and she pulled her wrist up to check her watch. “With the rest of our time today,” she spoke softly as she started to flip through a few things on her clipboard, “I’d like to go over what you experienced during your time with Vladimir Makarov.” 

The words made Roach freeze. This was the last thing that he wanted to talk about. “I don’t,” he started, “I don’t think that’s necessary.” His leg started bouncing up and down quickly, he forced himself to stop when he noticed the woman’s eyes shoot to the movement, watching closely. 

“Nothing specific for now,” the woman assured him, “I just want to get a general idea of the things that we’ll be working through in our future sessions. You can just give me an overview and then we’ll move on to whatever you want to for the rest of the session or,” she gave him a small smile, “We’ll even cut the session short for the day so you can go get some rest.” 

There was silence around the room as Roach tried to come up with some excuse or some reason why he didn’t need to talk about his time with Makarov. He really didn’t want to go through it with the woman. He hadn’t even been able to talk about what had happened with Soap and Ghost, he certainly didn’t think he’d be able to talk about it with a woman he hardly knew. 

There was another part of him. A part that commented that, since he didn’t know this woman well, she would be the perfect person to tell. That part of him had been screaming to be let out for the past month. That part of him wanted and needed nothing more than to tell someone about what had happened, to have someone tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that he hadn’t done wrong. That he hadn’t betrayed his team. That he hadn’t betrayed Soap and Ghost. 

That part of him often got buried. 

“I don’t know what there is to say,” Roach shook his head, “I mentioned most of it in my reports.”

The woman tilted her head, “Yes,” she said, there was a slight note to her voice that told Roach that something else was coming, “Most of it.” She agreed. Her eyes caught his, “But there is a lot left out here isn’t there? Your report doesn’t mention the incident in Finland, the one mentioned in Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant MacTavish, and Sergeant Garrick’s reports from the incident.” 

Roach froze slightly. He didn’t know quite how to respond to the woman in front of him, or the knowledge that she definitely knew that he’d left out that and likely far more information in his report. He just hadn’t been able to write everything down, so he’d settled on writing the bare bones of what he could stomach. “It,” he started slowly, “it must have slipped my mind.”

“I’m sure,” the woman’s voice wasn’t accusing as she added, “Just like the source of that stab wound you had must have slipped your memory. Or the broken nose. Or how exactly you got those wounds that Captain Price and Lieutenant Riley found you with.” She tilted her head at him, her eyes serious, but kind, “I’m here to help you, Sergeant Sanderson. In order to do that, I need to know what happened.” 

Roach ran a hand over his face, his nerves shooting back up. He started tapping his heel again, he didn’t try to stop himself this time. One of his hands came up to his mouth so that he could bite at his nails and the skin around his fingers. He wrapped an arm around his middle, his eyes locked on to the rug on the floor rather than the woman in front of him. He took in a deep, shaky breath. The room felt hot. The room felt like it was closing in on him. 

“I,” he finally managed to get out, his voice shaky, “It’s a lot.”

“I understand,” Her voice and the lack of judgment on her face calmed him just a bit. He felt like he could breathe a bit clearer, “We’ll start off abstract. On just vague general things. We don’t have to talk about anything in particular until you’re ready.” 

Roach glanced at her hesitantly. Maybe it would be okay if he kept things vague. “I don’t have to…give detail?”

“Not until you’re ready,” the woman assured. “We’re going to work at your pace.”

“My pace,” Roach repeated to himself. There was a dizzying feeling that threatened to take over his mind if he continued speaking, but he didn’t care. He needed to talk. That part of his mind that he’d been shoving into a box needed some pressure released from it. “Okay,” he finally said, “Okay I think I can do that.”

The woman gave him a soft nod, “That’s good. Whatever you feel comfortable telling me, okay? I may ask some questions at the end, but all you’ll have to do is say yes or no.”

Roach nodded and he took a deep breath in. It was almost hard to force the words out, but once he began speaking, he found that they came easily, “After pretending to kill Price, Makarov sent men to find me. One of them stabbed me. Makarov killed him because of it. I passed out and woke back up in Russia.” He took another deep breath, “Makarov told me about the bracelet. He wanted me to kill someone for him. I,” he hesitated, but with a quick glance at the non-judgemental face that the woman wore he continued speaking, “I did it. He had me kill more people. He brought me to Finland to make me kill someone in front of the team. I attacked him after we left. He won.” He grit his teeth slightly. 

His mind recalled what had happened next. His realization of what Makarov wanted. His words. The way he’d batted his lashes at the man and lured him in, playing into his fantasies. He nearly felt sick as he recalled the man’s hands against his skin, his mouth against his own. His mind went to Soap and Ghost again. They didn’t know. They didn’t know what he’d done. They couldn’t know. He skipped that bit and continued, “Within the next few days the team showed up, I went to try and stop Makarov, but he caught me off guard. He planned to take me with him again.”

He stopped then, swallowing hard as he listened to the woman across from him write something down in her notes. “I’m just going to ask a few questions,” she said softly, “The man who stabbed you, did you see Makarov kill him?” Roach nodded his head in response, sickness creeping up his throat once again as he remembered the sickening crack of bones echoing around the church. “There were several days between your injuries and when the teams raided Makarov’s compound?” 

Roach was taken aback by the question, his body thrumming with nerves, “Yes.” He begged whatever God was out there that she didn’t ask him what had happened during that time. What he’d done during that time. 

She paused for a moment, looking up at him in silence for several seconds, as though considering her words. Roach knew then that she was going to ask, in some form or another she was going to ask. “Captain Price and Agent Laswell mentioned that Makarov’s interest in you might not have been strictly for the use of getting to the 141.” 

Roach took in a deep breath, “He seemed to think that I understood him. That we were the same in some way.”

The woman nodded slowly, “And his…interest in you, it never went further than that?”

Roach clenched his hands, his throat feeling tight. “He was obsessive,” he said simply. 

“Yes,” the woman nodded, “But how far did that obsession go?”

Roach couldn’t stand the way that she was skirting around the question, trying hard to ask without actually asking. It drove him crazy. He took a deep breath before leveling her with a serious stare, “Ask what you want to ask.”

She tilted her head at him, as though considering if he could handle it. Finally, after a moment, she nodded, “Sergeant Sanderson, did you have a romantic relationship with Vladimir Makarov? Consensual or otherwise.”

Roach didn’t run from the room, but it was certainly close. His heart was pounding, his throat felt tight, and he was sure that his eyes were rimmed red. All of his plans of getting back to the norm of missions were flushed down the drain with several questions asked to him by a woman in a blazer. It was a bit annoying. 

He barely watched where he was going as he marched down the hallways of the base, letting muscle memory guide him back to the room where he’d spent all of his nights since arriving at the new base. He hardly even knew where his own room was, but he had the path to this one memorized like the back of his hand. 

During his month of leave, the team had been moved to a more permanent base in England. The area was unfamiliar to Roach, and the plane ride with his things had been hell, but he found that he actually quite liked their new base. At the very least, the rooms that they were given to use if they didn’t have a place off base were quite nice. Roach was almost upset that they hadn’t been at the base sooner. Almost. 

He approached the door to the room, not even bothering to knock before swinging it open, stepping inside, and closing it with a little more force than he meant to behind him. The noise gained the attention of the other two men in the room. He was given a raised brow by Simon. He was on the other side of the room, slipping on his jacket and his fingerless gloves. His mask wasn’t on, but it was set off to the side. 

Similarly, Soap was slipping his shirt over his head when Roach had barged in, his head turning to give him a smile in greeting. They were both getting dressed. Roach didn’t understand. “Are you guys going somewhere?”

“Well hi, to you too, Bug,” Soap gave a laugh.

Roach winced, guilt tugging at his chest as he realized how snippy his voice had sounded, “Sorry,” he gave the two an apologetic smile, his hands raising just enough that he could join them together and begin picking at the skin around his fingers again. Not even the warning stings of pain in his hands could stop him. “Just wasn’t expecting to find the two of you up and getting ready.”

“We have a team meeting,” Simon raised an eyebrow at him, “Didn’t Price tell you? You’re still allowed to sit in on meetings right?”

Roach shook his head. Captain Price had not informed him about any meeting. His jaw tightened, but he forced a smile as he replied, “I must have missed it in my email, you guys know i’m shit at checking it.”

There was a hum from Simon, his eyes watching him closely for several moments. “How did your session go?”

Roach gave a huff, making his way toward them all so that he could throw himself face down onto the bed with a groan. It pulled a chuckle from both of the men, a sound that had Roach feeling warm. “Terrible. I hate psychiatrists.”

In a moment, someone was sitting next to him on the bed and there was a hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. He didn’t have to look up to know it was Soap, he could identify the man by touch at this point. “I know it sucks, Bug, but it’s good for you.”

Roach gave a huff. “I just want to get back to normal. You know, missions and coming back to base to hold you guys' hands and shit,” he whined, pulling another laugh from Soap. 

“You’ve been holding our hands,” that was Simon, a hint of amusement in his voice. 

“Not enough,” Roach responded, peeking up at him from the sheets. 

“Well, good news,” he turned his head so that he could look at Soap, “You can hold our hands on the walk to the meeting room. I’ll even let you walk in the middle this time,” his last few words were said with an overexaggerated huff that pulled a grin from Roach. 

Roach popped up from the bed, moving closer to Soap with a grin, “Yeah? With no complaints?”

“No complaints,” Soap held a hand up, “Scout's honor.” Soap leaned closer to him, his hand coming up to stroke his cheek gently. Roach leaned into the movement for a moment, a happy hum leaving his mouth as, for a brief second, his mind went pleasantly blank. That brief second ended when he closed his eyes happily, flashes of Makarov’s hands on his face making him pull back from Soap quickly. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d pulled away from Soap, or Ghost for that matter. It was never their touches that had him pulling away. Never their kisses that made him separate from them. It wasn’t the reminder of what he’d done that had him moving. It was the guilt. 

He wasn’t haunted by Makarov’s touches. Not in the way that others might have been. He didn’t dream of the man haunting his every move. He didn’t dream of those hands against his skin. Sure, when he thought about what he’d done he felt sick, but that wasn’t because of the memories. It was because of the guilt. 

How could he let Soap and Ghost touch him? How could he let them love him the way that they do? How could he take that so easily when he knew that he’d betrayed them? How could he let that happen when he’d played into what Makarov wanted? How could he let that happen when he’d let another touch him with no complaint? 

He didn’t think he was worthy of the love that they showed him. That open affection that they so easily gave to him. He’d been treading the line, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for them to learn what he’d done. Waiting for them to feel just as disgusted with him as he felt with himself. 

He recognized the confusion on Soap’s face as he pulled away. He could see the look that Simon was giving him. He knew that they knew that something was going on. He was just hoping to hold on to them for a bit longer. For his own, selfish, reasons. 

He popped up from the bed, pretending not to see the looks on their faces as he stretched his arms into the air, taking in a deep breath as he moved. “What time is the meeting?” He asked as he turned back to face the two. 

Simon watched him for a moment before tilting his eyes down to check his watch, “Fifteen minutes. We should probably start moving if we don’t want to be late.”

“You mean if we want to be early,” Soap said with a roll of his eyes. He stood from the bed and made his way over to his shoes, slipping them on his feet quickly. “No way we’re going to be late when the meeting doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. It’s not even a five-minute walk over there.” 

Roach leaned against the wall by the door, listening to Soap and Simon debate back and forth on what was early and what was late. He picked idly at his thumb, biting his lip as he watched them, a sad sort of affection blooming in his chest. He loved to just watch the two at times, listen to them talk. He was glad to say that he was past the days of feeling like a third wheel in these moments. Past the days of his mind calling something in his first life to the forefront just to remind him of what he’d lost. Sure he’d lost, but look at what he’d gained. Even if he knew it wouldn’t last.

It was a few more moments before Simon was slipping on his mask and he and Soap were joining Roach by the door. Just as Soap had promised, when the three stepped out of the room, Ghost shutting and locking it behind him, he allowed Roach to stand in the center of their little group. One of his hands was taken first by Soap, the man pulling him closer to his side with a grin. A moment later and his other hand was gently taken by Simon, a small, comforting squeeze given to the limb. Roach pulled them both closer to him, practically squished between the two as they all made their way toward the conference room. 

Roach could tell by the look on Captain Price’s face when he walked into the room that the man hadn’t told him about the meeting on purpose. He wasn’t mad at him. He knew why he hadn’t wanted to tell him. 

Still, it did nothing to stop him from abandoning Soap and Ghost’s side as they went to take their seats, all to march up to Captain Price and glare him down. “You didn’t tell me about this meeting!” He hissed in a low voice. He didn’t need the rest of the team hearing his conversation with the man. 

“I’m sorry, lad,” Price responded, his voice genuine, “I just thought, after your session, you might have wanted a day. I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to come.”

Roach reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, a small sigh of frustration leaving his throat, “I appreciate that, Price, I really do.” He stopped to look at the man fully, “But really? If you’re worried about that then just tell me if I’m not feeling up to it that I don’t have to come.”

“I’m sorry,” Price responded.

“Just,” Roach shook his head, “Please don’t do it again. It’s really frustrating to only find out there’s a meeting because of Soap and Ghost. Doesn’t really make me feel like you guys see me as a valid part of the team.” His eyes widened slightly at the confession. 

It wasn’t one he’d meant to make. His mouth was running faster than his brain could follow and filter. It was the truth though. He’d been terribly worried that after over a month away from the team and now the time that he would be off for his mandated therapy sessions, the team would grow comfortable without him there. That they’d realize that they didn’t need him anymore. 

It was a stupid thing to worry about. But it didn’t stop his mind from whispering those words to him. It had taken to doing that more and more often now. What if they don’t need you anymore? What if they’re still angry? What if you’re fucked up for good? What if, what if, what if. It just kept going. 

He thought back to his therapist's words from earlier, about trying to stop those what-if phrases from taking hold in his brain. It was much easier said than done, still, he tried. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that those were just scenarios. Unlikely scenarios. Not the reality. It seemed to help a bit, that pressure in his chest relieving itself slightly. 

Price reached out to him, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry, lad. It won’t happen again.” He paused, as though hesitant, before adding, “You are a valued and valid member of this team Roach. Please remember that.” 

Roach let out a small breath, the words calming those feelings in his chest even further. Though he was embarrassed by his words, it was nice to have someone else there to validate his feelings and give him some reassurance. “Thank you, Captain.” He gave Price a small, flashed smile before turning around and making his way to where Soap and Ghost were, an open seat between them saved for him. It made his heart ache with joy for a brief moment. That feeling disappeared from his chest. 

The group waited several more minutes until Gaz finally stumbled into the room, his eyes locked onto his phone as he typed several things out rapidly. From the grin on his face, Roach knew that he was likely messaging Jackson. He couldn’t help but grin at Gaz, happy that two of his friends seemed to have found happiness together. He had to admit, they made a far better pairing than he’d expected. 

Price cleared his throat, catching everyone’s attention and prompting Gaz to put his phone face down on the table. “Boys,” he started with a small smile, “As you all know, we’ve been tracking one of Makarov’s would-be successors,” his eyes shot to Roach at the mention of Makarov.

“Any news?” Gaz asked, leaning forward against the table. 

“He seems to have found his foothold in the party,” Price crossed his arms, tugging slightly at his beard, “Laswell’s been monitoring his activity. He went off of the grid four days ago. Popped back up in Brazil.”

“He’s taking over Makarov’s weapons deals in the area,” Roach guessed, “Rojas?”

“Still locked up tight,” Price nodded, “Seems like he’s got someone else. Some new partner in the area.”

Soap gave a low whistle, an annoyed look painted onto his face, “Weapons dealers. Always popping up somewhere. Take one out and two more come from the shadows.”

“Any idea on the new partner?” Simon was the one who asked, leaning back in his seat to cross his arms. 

“We didn’t have any leads on them, that was until about a day ago.” He tapped a few buttons on his computer before spinning it around to show the group a picture of a woman, “Francisca Costa, apparently she’s stolen nearly all of Rojas’ clients while he’s been in custody, including the ultranationalists.” 

“How’d we figure this out?” Roach asked, squinting at the picture. Often times it was hard to follow when terrorists switched up who their shipments were from. Most of the time it took months to establish enough of a pattern.

“Because,” Price took in a deep breath, “It seems that Francisca was being monitored closely by another team.”

“Another team?”

“PMC,” Price responded, “Group called KorTac. They got in contact with us a few days ago, apparently heard that we were watching out for Makarov’s replacement, said that they had some information that could help us bring him down before he gets started.”

“That’s rather nice of them,” Ghost commented with narrowed eyes, “What do they want in return?”

Price took a moment, rolling his neck before he leaned down to place his hands on the table, “Joint operation to take out both Francisca and our target.”

“Absolutely not,” Soap responded immediately, pushing himself away from the table, Roach turned to look at him watching as his face twisted into anger, “I’m not working with a PMC again.” 

“This isn’t like last time,” Price assured him, “It won’t be like last time.”

“How do you know that?” Ghost asked, “How do you know we won’t get fucked over again?”

Price shook his head at him, “I won’t let it happen. And,” he nodded, “Their group is smaller. Much smaller than Shadow Company. They won’t want something like that on their record for clients.”

There was a tense pause, silence hanging over the room for several moments. He’d never dealt with the Shadow Company of this life, but he understood the team’s hesitation to work with another PMC. He still felt the sting of betrayal from the Shadow Company of his first life, but he couldn’t say that. 

Still, there was no reason that they had not to, at the very least, work with this new group. If it allowed them to cut off another head of the ultranationalist party before they could really get started, keep them scrambling for long enough for the loyalists to fully turn the tides, it would do wonders for them. 

He leaned forward in his seat, fiddling with his fingers as he glanced at Ghost then Soap with a sense of anxiety laying over his shoulders. “How, uh,” he cleared his throat, feeling all of the attention in the room turn to him, “How many men do they want us to work with?” He looked around the group, “If it’s a larger number of people, that seems a bit suspicious.”

“KorTac isn’t a large group on its own,” Price started slowly, “They have thirteen operators in total, they want us to work with four of them. To match our numbers,” his eyes shot to Roach for a moment before he corrected, “our current numbers.”

“That seems reasonable,” Gaz crossed his arms, “What’s our timeline? How much time are we going to have to get to know these people before we have to trust them not to shoot us in the back?”

Price shot him a scolding look before responding, “They want to send them in ahead of time. Sometime within the next few days. They’re hoping that we can train together before the mission. Get to know each other and maybe even teach their people something.” 

Roach nodded. The request sounded reasonable. If they were a PMC, they’d want a chance for their people to learn from other teams, and pick up new skills that they could market. The entire thing sounded reasonable, as much as it pained him to admit it. That arrangement would also allow the team the chance to get to know the people that they were working with, and scope them out ahead of time to ensure that they could trust them. 

He pushed himself back in his seat and took a deep breath, “I say we do it.” He looked around the group, “I know I won’t get to go on the mission with you guys, but I can help in training. We can scope them out, make sure they aren’t suspicious.”

“Bug,” Soap commented quietly, “We can’t trust them.”

“After finding out Makarov had an informant who was working with us,” Roach responded, turning to him, “How do we know if we can trust anyone?” He looked around at the group, “I know I wasn’t with you guys during the situation with Shadow Company, but if you go around thinking you can’t work with people because you can’t trust them, we’ll never get anything done.” 

Quiet fell over the room again, Soap’s face twisted into something sour. Roach felt bad, he understood his anger, but they couldn’t miss the opportunity they were given. Not when they could get ahead of the ultranationalists and even have the chance to help wipe them out for good. 

Finally, after several moments, Ghost’s voice rang out, “Alright, but if they so much as breath wrong on one of us, that’s it.”

Price nodded to him, “Thank you, Simon.”

After another moment, Gaz nodded, “Alright, I guess.”

The group turned to Soap. He still seemed to be troubled. Like he didn’t want to agree with their words. He looked around at them all for several moments before he finally seemed to deflate a bit and respond, “Alright, but like Ghost said, if they breathe wrong. That’s it.”

It’s the middle of the night. He’s awake again. He should have known he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not after his session. Not after the memories. 

He slowly peeled himself away from where he’d been draped over Soap’s back and slid out from under the covers, scooting himself until he was able to pull himself from the bed and stumble toward the bathroom. He didn’t bother turning on the light in the room, he just stripped off his clothes and turned the shower on.

The water was cold when he stepped in, not given a proper amount of time to warm up. He didn’t have the patience to wait. It was practically freezing on his skin, pulling a startled gasp from him as his body tried to recoil away from the cold. After a moment, the water warmed up and he was finally able to relax under the almost stinging heat it provided. 

He let himself lean back against the shower wall, closing his eyes with a sigh. Images flashed across the back of his eyelids, nothing more than nightmares. Scenarios his mind had created for itself, terrible terrible scenarios. 

He took in a breath through the water splashing across his face, reminding himself carefully that they were dreams. They weren’t the reality. They hadn’t happened. 

They will, his mind whispered back. Maybe Makarov is dead. Maybe he can’t hurt you physically anymore. But what you’ve done? What you did while with him? That won’t go away so easily.

Images flashed again. Hands on him. He invited them, fluttered his lashes and spoke low words. Low, careful words. He’d drawn memories from his time with Simon, and he’d used them with Makarov. He’d let the man touch him. Let the man kiss him. Let the man think that he’d given in. 

He’d done it to survive. He knew that. It didn’t change what he’d done. It didn’t change how he felt. It didn’t change the sickness that crept up his throat. The guilt clogged his arteries and threatened to burst his heart. 

His dreams reminded him of that. His dreams reminded him of what was to come. Of the looks of disgust that he’d be soon to see from Soap and Ghost. Johnny and Simon. The men he loved. They’d never want to touch him again, never want to see him again, they’d never trust him again. 

He’d lose them. Just like he lost the Soap and Ghost of his first life. Just like he’d lost everything else. Just like he’d continue to lose. Anything and everything he cared about. 

The water of the shower hid his tears, hid the evidence of his tears. He allowed the water to run, allowed himself to cry. He didn’t move, not even when the water of the shower began to run cold again, stinging his skin and pulling a shiver from deep in his bones.

Finally, when he didn’t think he would cry anymore, when he felt that he could control his emotions, he leaned forward to turn the water of the shower off. He was shaking as he stepped out, both from the cold and his own emotions. He let the water from his body drip to the floor, only grabbing a towel after a few moments of blankly staring. 

He wrapped the material around his shoulders, using it more as a blanket than a towel. He stopped in front of the mirror in the small bathroom, taking in his appearance for several moments, trying to be sure that he didn’t look like he’d just spent an unknown amount of time crying his eyes out as his mind tore itself apart. 

He traced his eyes over his body, stopping at the skin at his side that was still healing. He’d been warned by the doctors that it was likely going to leave a terrible scar because of how often it had been torn open. How violently it had been ripped apart. He brought his wrists up so that he could examine them. His left was slightly smaller than the right, still building back up muscle from the cast that had laid over it. His right had scar tissue already forming over it in a line from where Makarov had carefully cut it open. In time, it was sure to be nothing more than a line on his skin. 

He took in another deep breath, lowering his wrists to his side as he did so. He gave himself another few minutes, calming the rapid beating of his heart, before lifting the towel and beginning the process of drying himself off. He wrapped the material around his waist before leaving the safety of the bathroom to step back out into the room where Ghost and Soap were still sleeping.

He kept his footsteps quiet, creeping across the room to retrieve a new pair of pajamas for himself and slip into them. He took his time with the movements, knowing that he would have to inevitably go back to bed and try to sleep. He had another session the next morning and there was no doubt in his mind that his therapist would be able to see if he hadn’t slept. 

The team was going to have a busy few weeks ahead of them. With the members from KorTac arriving in several days and the preparation for their mission, Roach was sure that he was going to be busier and that Soap and Ghost would be busier as well. He only hoped that it wouldn’t impact how much he would get to see them. 

He carefully stepped back toward the bed, lowering himself to the mattress carefully before scooting close enough that he could once again tuck himself close to Soap. He wrapped himself under the covers and pressed his face into the man’s back, taking in a deep breath and trying to appreciate the warmth of the other man. 

Slipping back into sleep didn’t come easy. He expected it. His dreams weren’t pleasant. He wasn’t surprised. 

[ficbrish]

"Tell me what you want, Kaidan."

[AO3 Link]

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Tags: During Canon, Mass Effect 3, Post-Mass Effect 3 Mission - Priority: Rannoch, Post-Mass Effect 3 Mission - Priority: Thessia, Biotic Shepard (Mass Effect), Colonist (Mass Effect), War Hero (Mass Effect), Sentinel (Mass Effect), Paragade (Mass Effect), POV Kaidan Alenko, POV Alternating, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, Some Humor, Some Plot, Dom Kaidan Alenko, Switching, dom is subbing, sub is domming, Mutual Masturbation, Misuse of Biotics, Rough Sex, Voyeurism, Multiple Orgasms, Kissing, Sexual Fantasy, Strip Tease, Dorks in Love, I Will Go Down With This Ship

[[TW/CW: Degradation kink, light gagging, descriptions of genitals, body fluids]]

He was already hard when she stepped into the dressing room, his heart pounding fast enough to turn his breath ragged.

Get yourself under control, Kaidan. She hasn’t even started yet.

Shepard made no show of noticing him across from her. She was acting as if she were alone.

“What do you want, Kaidan?” she’d purred the other night, perched on her side like a panther in its tree, “Tell me.”  

This is what he’d finally admitted to. Sat in the corner in his pervert chair, Shepard would try something on, and he’d watch her get carried away with her own body.

“You just want to watch?” she’d asked, already excited.

“Well… I’d also be there to provide assistance—Uh, but only if you need it, of course.”

They’d figured out a time, place, and rules of consent. Now they were here, making his fantasy come true at the end of everything.

Kaidan swallowed hard.

He could see Shepard watching him from the corner of her eye, appreciating his current state without breaking character. They were only in the Spectre locker room, where there’d be less chance of encountering others and plenty of warning if they did, but the danger of it still boiled under his fingers like the crinkle of his biotics before a fight.

She kept her manner casual and business-like, strutting in holding a shirt on a hanger with the tags still attached. She hooked it on one of the locker handles, and the scratch of metal on metal shrieked through the still room.

Shepard faced the mirror, parallel to where Kaidan sat, her back to him. They could see each other’s faces in its reflection.

She caught him unconsciously biting his lip through the glint in her eye.

He saw a fleeting thirst play over her profile, just for a moment before it was hidden again. Right after that, her charcoal-black shirt began to come apart, its buttons slowly coming undone.

One of them gave way to her cleavage, revealing the lace trim splashed across her silky, black bra. Delicate, dark patterns swirled on top of amber skin, which sparkled underneath. Her breasts, packed tight against her, bubbled over the edge where flesh met fabric.

First, she’d take off her shirt. Try on the other.

Shepard took her time, pausing to appreciate her chest. She wasn’t making a show of it, just looking at herself. The expression on her face wasn’t blank, but subtle. It was like a code only Kaidan could decipher. A secret just for him conveying she was pleased with what she saw.

Another button came undone, and the rest of her bra tumbled into his vision. The bottom of it accentuated the full, round curve of her breasts… Kaidan felt his pants lurch with a sudden tick of his erection. He couldn’t tell if his breathing was audible, or if it was just loud in his own head. Watching her like this felt like being strangled.

Once her shirt was off, Shepard was left standing in that bra and pencil skirt of hers, red leather with a zipper running down its side. Its shiny shell hugged her bottom tightly, making two poison apples out of it so juicy they begged to be bitten into. The effect exaggerated itself as she bent over to take off her shoes, black pumps she easily slipped out of.

Her stockings, opaque at the top, reached just past her mid-thigh. Kaidan’s gaze was stuck there, where her skin burst over that opaque band. Her movement pulled up her leather skirt, and a tease of red lace peeked out from between her thighs. As she bent further, more was revealed. His vision blurred, full of red lace and the promising mound underneath; that shock of bright crimson gliding over and accentuating every detail of that precious part of her.

Shepard snatched it away, standing up to go grab the other shirt.

She threw its opening above her head, and Kaidan watched her strong torso wriggle into it. Like a belly dancer, her muscles rippled and scrunched as her waist pinched and stretched. It reminded him of the way she looked flat on her back when he’d buck into her, her legs thrown over his shoulders.

The new shirt had a very deep plunge. It was meant to curtain down her chest, baring sternum and teasing more, but her bra was in the way of its charm. She moved her arms out of its sleeves to unhook her bra.

Once she did, he was left to drink in the vision of her perfect, brown nipples.

He knew how they tasted. He could feel their warmth on his tongue at the sight.

Kaidan shifted in his chair, pants uncomfortably tight. Soon, he’d have to pull his zipper down just for a bit of relief.

Shepard shrugged her arms back into the sleeves, and braless, they were able to see the blouse’s intended look.

She should keep that shirt.

Next time they went out, he’d ask her to wear this exact outfit. Its draping fell along the curve of her breasts at the perfect angle, showcasing their shape in a way that was still soft and seductive despite how unsubtle it was. Kaidan could tell that she liked it too. She held her posture proudly as she turned in the mirror side-to-side.

It fit like it was made specifically for her. But it was time for it to come off.

She made eye contact with him through the mirror.

Are you ready?

He blinked one… two… three… four times in a row, and she gave an almost imperceptible nod back.

The real show was ready to start. Kaidan’s breath got stuck under his belly button.

Shepard took off the new shirt and hung it up, leaving her topless in the red leather skirt, copper legs gleaming under her transparent brown thigh-highs.

Her finger went to its zipper along the side. Slowly, she split her skirt in half. It peeled apart as she brought the zipper lower, a rich red petal her thigh blossomed out of.

Now she was just stockings, skin, and bright crimson lace.

Shepard took the time to appreciate herself again, looking in the mirror at her state of clothed nakedness. Just looking. A tilt of her head. A smirk.

Then a hand travelled to her chest.

She rested it on her sternum, and brought it down to a breast, caressing its side. Her hand travelled underneath it, then pushed upwards, its shape rounder and fuller when pressed against her. Her lips relaxed into a light smile as she rubbed her thumb across her areola, brushing over it back and forth until the nipple hardened. Kaidan loved the way that transformation felt on his lips, and his legs twitched with impulse. Like a good boy, he remained in his chair.

He saw her reflected eyes dart to his, making each set flare blue. She quickly looked away, while Kaidan’s stayed peeled on her. They devoured her head to toe.

“It would be your private moment,” he’d said when they discussed it, “Like I’m not even there.”

Shepard wasn’t sure about that part at first, “Would it be for me too? Or just you?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way! It has be for the both of us—There’s no exceptions to that!” he’d explained, “I’d just want you to display it differently. Does, uh, does any of that make sense?”

“It’s getting there.”

She wasn’t supposed to notice him so explicitly. Excluding their starting signal, his first rule was no prolonged eye contact. A few seconds or a glance was fine, but any more was a way to opt out of it, to say stop. That would be one signal. Looking away swiftly was a requirement to continue, a way to say yes. Quickly shifting her gaze, as she did now, was an invitation for him to look longer, deeper.

Her other hand went to her other breast, squeezing it harder than the last.

Then her arms dropped to her side.

She took another moment just to look. To notice herself with an air that was equally curious and appreciative. Everything that Shepard did was captivating to him, but right now Kaidan thought she was captivating. Her right heel lifted as she turned her hip to the side, observing her waist which she then caressed with both hands. They ran up and down it, lightly, gradually.

The harsh lighting wasn’t flattering, but it didn’t mar her. She stood brilliantly unaffected. Her beauty was even more otherworldly in the abundant fluorescent light. It exposed her with its unforgiving untheatrically, looking for faults and coming up short. He could see every mole and they all were his favorite. Every part of her was perfect. Kaidan added his own blue glow to the room. He couldn’t fight it anymore; he was bursting out of himself.

Shepard changed her pose to stand tall, facing the mirror directly with her legs planted strongly under her frame. Then she stood a little wider. She laid her palms flat against the part of her thighs that sat just below her hips, resting them on the bone underneath the bright string sides of her crimson thong.

Kaidan’s throat stung in his neck, choking him with a sensation that tugged. He was pretty sure he was panting now, but he didn’t care. No one had ever seen him like this, and he didn’t care.

Finally, he unzipped his pants, letting his desperate member spill forth. Still, it was no relief.

That was his other rule. When he unzipped his pants, she’d know it would be time to take things up a notch. Next time, if there was one, he’d ask Shepard to bind his hands. He was hoping to give the moment a little more time, but his will was weaker than his want.

Shepard’s reflection smirked at him, met his gaze, then looked away.

Her thumb looped under the red string and pulled it to snap against her skin. It was the only sound in the room other than Kaidan’s breathing.

He could see Shepard staring at his exposed lap from the corner of her eye. Hunger played across her face until she fixed it. She didn’t break the moment but stumbled a bit at the sight of his cock at full attention, drooling at the tip. She loved to put it in her mouth when it was like this.

He was sitting, but his knees felt weak.

She rubbed her hands over her ass, squeezing her cheeks like she did her breasts. Noticing and appreciating. Then dropped her arms back down to her sides.

There was only one other place left to touch.

Shepard brought her index finger between her thighs and traced it up the middle of her red lace. One light stroke.

Noticing and appreciating.

Suddenly, she made a show of having a thought. It wasn’t like she was being corny, but it was endearing the way she really invested in it. She looked side-to-side with an affected nervousness, as if checking for other people in a dressing room.

She looked back at herself in the mirror and bit her lip.

Kaidan allowed himself to just hold his dick.

She brought her finger back to the front of her thong and started to rub up and down. Slowly, lingering; teasing herself with light sensations. He watched her, feeling the wetness from his cock run over his fingers. Without thinking, he gave the head a rub. Just a tease, like her dancing over the red lace.

He groaned when she moved the middle of it over to the side, exposing her folds. She ran her finger over them, slicking the whole area as she rubbed up and down the middle. Kaidan let his hand travel up and down the length of his shaft, stroking along with her at the pace she set.

Slowly. Up on her upstroke. Down on her downstroke. Along with her.

After a while of this, she stopped. He stopped too.

She made another show of looking around, side-to-side.

Kaidan wasn’t breathing. He was waiting.

Shepard brought her other hand around and slipped two fingers inside. They didn’t appear to go in deep but moved quickly back and forth. Her other hand remained occupied as before, with her finger running up and down the middle. Then a blue light started to flow from her fingertip, and an unintentional moan rumbled in her throat.

It wasn’t long until a new position was necessary.

“If you find yourself, um, you know, needing extra support,” he’d said, “Lean somewhere close so I can see you better.”

“Fuck the mirror at that point?”

He’d punctuated each word with a kiss to her happily-raised brow, “Fuck. The. Mirror!”

Now, here in his fantasy made real, Shepard was turning around, walking towards him. Still not noticing him.

He did have one final condition.

“If you find yourself wanting me inside you, to the point you can’t take it, I want you to notice me.”

“And punish you?” she’d asked, voice pitched high with glee.

“Yes, Ma’am!”

But only if she wanted him inside her so badly that the pain of denial became absolute need.

They were almost there. Just not yet. For now, she was just finding a new position. Somewhere closer.

It seemed like she was approaching him directly, but she’d chosen the wall behind him. She laid her back against it and leaned into the artificial gravity.

One leg she brought up to the knee and planted her foot on the wall. He watched her pelvis shift forward and her hands travel towards it. She then shimmied down her thong, until it met her stockings mid-thigh and rested there.

Kaidan, already at the edge of his seat, turned as far as he could in his chair. Familiar details he couldn’t see before greeted him like a homecoming.

He felt his way around her body as she did, watching her fingertips and feeling everything on his own. Two of them stroked the wet depth of her, while another danced where he could see. It rubbed over her stiff clit, then around it, alternating the sensation. Soon, her torso began to tense up.

He wanted to watch it happen.

Her whole body shimmered with indigo, and her breathing came through heavy in high, staccato cries.

He was used to seeing her like this at a more intimate distance, and she was—Kaidan had to stop himself from saying it out loud.

His throat caught when their eyes met.

“Who are you?” she finally asked, pretending to see him there for the first time, completely unfazed by their sexual activities.

“A filthy pig,” he replied, still staring into her eyes, still stroking himself vigorously.

She tilted her head to the side with a little hum. He’d seen her size up so many others this way, but not like this; the way she surveyed him…

Kaidan was getting too close, and he didn’t want it to end. He had to let go of his dick.

“Fuck…”

She watched the denial play over his features, twisting and stretching them. A muscle towards the corner of his lips lightly fluttered. There was sweat on his brow, and it furrowed desperately.

Her gaze kept shifting between his legs and his face.

Then Shepard brought a sullied finger to his lips and made him taste her. His tongue set her on edge, so she took it out and commanded his eye contact with hers instead. She held it as she put the same finger in her mouth, tasting him. Her own tongue couldn’t compare.

She wiped her finger off on his shoulder like he was nothing.

He blinked four times. She spread his knees apart, one after the other.

“Does the filthy piggy want to watch?”

He nodded.

Shepard got close, settling into the space she’d made between his thighs. Kaidan swallowed. Her scent was finally back in his senses.

The first thing she did was step out of her thong with the same sense of graceful power she emanated on the battlefield. Then she balled it up and gagged him with it.

“Hold onto that for me, piggy.”

He nodded, and she put her foot up on his chair with the same vigor, trapping one of his legs under the high arch of one of hers. The way her thigh spilled over her stockings trapped his gaze.

Her hands reached for his hands, placing them along her ridiculous-thick ass. It was firm, and soft, and oh god…

Leaning back into his support, she rubbed herself again in front of his face. She started to do that blue thing, and he blinked from the brightness. Through the glow, he could see as she puffed up and pulsed.

His dick throbbed, but his hands were glued. If he touched himself, he’d have to let go. If he let go, she’d fall. But more than that, he didn’t want to.

All he could do was watch, helplessly, until she came again.

If this was torture, he would talk.

“You can lick it if you like,” Shepard commanded, looking down at him. She yanked her soaking thong out of his mouth.

Gripping a fistful of his hair at the top of his head, she held steady so that it would pull as he leaned forward. He’d have to fight through the pain to taste her with more than his memory.

The sting felt hot and sweet at the same time, like the nectar glistening on her skin. He barely reached it with the very tip of his tongue. Her grip was so firm. He was sure her hands would come away with a few of his curls.

And just when the stinging became louder in his senses than her taste, she thrust herself fully onto him. A grateful whine bubbled up from his chest as he opened his mouth to indulge.

Kaidan didn’t notice he was suffocating until she took herself away.

This time she spoke to him from below, crouching down between his legs.

His hands were freed.

“I want to watch you now,” she said with a seductive distance that kept up the fantasy even though they were changing directions.

He felt gratitude emanate from his dick as he wrapped his fist around it. His skin burned on his fingers.

His eyes rolled back in his head as Shepard began to lightly kiss along his inner thighs.

It didn’t take long.

His cum shot out energetically, then flowed and flowed. Shepard watched it with an equal mix of desire and wonder.

He twitched with overstimulation as she cleaned him off with her tongue. Then he lifted her up and wiped off the bit that had gotten on her cheek. And a little more next to her eye…

Kaidan chuckled, “I made a mess.”

Shepard leapt at him, responding with a furious kiss. Still overstimulated, Kaidan felt a new stirring. The taste of himself on her tongue was always overwhelming, but the belated kiss overtook it. He’d been dying to press his lips to hers, stroke her tongue with his, even more than he was eager to feel her wrapped around him. They both finally felt the hunger that ached this whole time, and the realization settled over them like hypnosis.

“I feel like I’m supposed to punish you,” she said between kisses, “but I just want to fuck you.”

“That’s okay!”

Shepard sat down on his lap, and he rubbed himself a little before slipping himself inside.

Kaidan groaned. “You’re so wet,” he said stupidly. The satisfaction of moments before transformed back into a lustful greed.

She kissed and sucked his ear before whispering into it, “Fuck me in your pervert chair.”

They were veering in and out of the performance, but it didn’t matter anymore. The show wasn’t over, but it was complete. Now it was time to just enjoy each other, with neither of them able to hold out anymore.

He held her hips still and thrust into her, controlling the movement even with her straddling him. A shudder worked through her whole body every time he hit the back, starting small and growing into an eventual convulsion of release.

“Did you cum, Shepard?” he asked, knowing the answer as her convulsions ebbed around him.

She struggled to answer.

“Yes…”

A smile played over his face. Now she was the one breathless and thick in the head. He’d even elicited a bigger reaction than the others she’d had by herself.

“Don’t get all cocky,” she muttered, kissing between his brow.

“Oh? Did I say something?”

“It’s all over your face.”

Kaidan leaned in close to suck her bottom lip. He bit it, pulling a little before slipping his tongue past her lips.

She moaned deeply.

“Turn around,” he said.

Shepard smirked and got off his lap. Standing turned around, her bare bottom hovered by his face, planted neatly on top of her stockings until it blended into the dip in her back.

“Holy shit, Shepard.”

“Tell me what you want.”

He didn’t see her face but could hear the smile in her tone.

His hands ran back to where they wanted to be. They squeezed reverently, finding more ass than he had palm.

“Oh god.”

“You like that, Kaidan?” she teased.

He answered by bending her over, pushing down on her lower back. Then he grabbed her hips by the sides to position her. They say you can’t have your cake and eat it too but fucking her from behind afforded him the opportunity to have her and keep his hands on her ass.

Shepard was leaning back, brushing up against his dick.

He wasn’t going to give it to her just yet. He pushed the head against her but didn’t let it go inside. It just rested there, and when she tried to lean back onto him, he held her hips still. Then it started to thrum slightly with a blue energy. Nestled right there against her, she started to cry out and beg.

He eventually allowed her one initial thrust before standing up to angle better. His strokes started out long and deliberate. Every one of them was a tease mixing relief and denial. It built and built but wouldn’t melt into a climax until he gave a little more speed or pressure. Kaidan held her there at the edge until she begged even more.

Once she did, he went all out. He didn’t stop until she came again, steadying his strokes along with her pulsations until they began to taper. Then he sped back up, thrust harder, until it started to happen again.

They were loud, but didn’t care. The walls were soundproofed against the shooting range.

Lightheaded, Shepard made him sit down again to crawl back into his lap. She kissed his neck and grabbed his dick, slipping him back inside her. Her breathing stuttered.

Kaidan brushed the hair out of her face with both hands and lingered there. He stroked the sides of her jaw, then her shoulders. Finally, they found her breasts, and lingered there too.

Her skin felt warmer on his tongue than he remembered.

“Fuck, Shepard. I’m gonna—"

“Cum for me, Kaidan.”

He did.

He held her close and shivered into her chest. Even when it was over, he rocked his hips lightly, feeling her just a little more.

He held her so close.

She got up as her normal self, his Shepard.

“Gotta run to the bathroom,” she said, leaving him alone like she always had to.

Kaidan’s heart was pounding. He should really clean himself up, but he just sat there.

By the time she came back, he’d cleaned up, but he was still in a daze.

“That was…” he started to say.

“Yeah? You liked it?”

“Loved it!” he chuckled, “Couldn’t you tell?”

Her face flushed, “I guess. Maybe a little.”

He stood up to hold her close again.

“Thank you.”

Her you’re welcome was a kiss.

“I had a lot of fun too,” she said, beaming up at him, “And not just at the end there.”

His heart was thudding again. He couldn’t help but think of last year, Shepard showing this side of herself to him for the first time. No one else had seen such a private moment of hers. It was solely his privilege, an exclusive vulnerable act only they were allowed into.

Now they were even. No one had ever seen him like this either.

“Hey, Shepard,” he began.

She smiled, “I love you too, Kaidan.”

She started getting dressed, which was his cue to change out of his pants.

The room felt completely transformed. It was the Spectre locker room again, not a dressing room. What they did still existed but was left behind in the realm they’d just stepped out of. The sweat on their skin meant something different in this new space.

Once dressed, they needed to head back to reality. Back to the war.

Kaidan grabbed her hand, and she nodded. They started to go.

“Uh—wait!”

Shepard raised her brow questioningly.

“Um, the chair… What do we do with it?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t think about that one, did we?”

“Nope. Uh…”

“Burn it?”

“Shepard…”

“Kaidan!”

He paused seriously, hands on his hips like when he was truly stumped, “We really can’t let anyone else use it.”

“I mean… That could be funny,” she shrugged.

He sighed, “No, it wouldn’t. We can’t.”

“All right. So… Bring it back to the Normandy?”

“We just walk a chair out of the Spectre room and drag it through the Embassies?”

“It’s weird, but… I mean, who’s gonna know it’s a sex chair?”

“It’s not!—It’s not a sex chair.”

“Then what else is it, Kaidan?”

He didn’t want her to be right, “It’s just a chair.”

“Then why are we bringing it back with us?”

He really, really didn’t want her to be right. He sighed, “Because it’s a sex chair.”

“Exactly!”

*           *           *           *           *

They were back. No one had asked about the chair.

The hangar was mostly empty once they got there. They weren’t necessarily suspicious, but odd nonetheless. Kaidan was holding the ugly metal bulk under one of his arms. Shepard had purposely left the other shirt behind in her locker, but was still overdressed for the quick run they were supposedly on.

Odd.

But they were alone, give or take a few busy crewmembers. It was a perfect ending to a perfect mome—

They turned a corner to find Tali having a conversation with Vega and Cortez and had no choice but to greet them.

“What’s with the chair?” Cortez asked immediately.

“Uuuuhhhh…” Kaidan scratched the back of his head with his free hand.

“Why are you asking?” Shepard deflected.

“I didn’t order those.”

“Yeah,” Tali agreed, “You have taste.”

“It’s ironic!” Kaidan blurted.

Now everyone was confused.

Shepard still stepped in, “We stole it from the Spectre offices.”

Vega nodded admiringly, “Word.”

“Don’t encourage theft!” Cortez scolded.

“It’s fun, hombre!” Vega teased, “A little chair here and there never, ever harmed anybody.”

“You wanna make that bet?”

“OH!” Tali suddenly shouted. Even through her mask, Shepard could sense trouble brewing in her expression.

“We’ve gotta get back upstairs,” Kaidan said, sensing it too, “Paperwork and all that.”

Tali wasn’t just a bomb raring to blow up, she was a god damn land mine.

“It’s a sex chair, isn’t it?”

Shepard and Kaidan laughed awkwardly. They both denied it at the same time, muttering variations of “no” and “what’s a sex chair?”

“It’s not a sex chair,” Shepard stated again clearly, using her commander voice.

Her and Kaidan took that chance to exit quickly.

Tali yelled back at them, “It’s totally a sex chair!”

Which was better than Vega yelling, “Git it, Mama!”

They couldn’t be rid of it fast enough, taking a detour over to the refuse room. The chair glistened, now a satisfying metallic cube once they’d managed to shove it down the trash compactor.

“Ready, Shepard?”

“Let’s do it.”

Pushing the airlock button together, they sent the evidence out to space.