#cloud fourteen

[sillysnack]

thinking about kusuke in london makes me sad... that flight must've been hard. like..WAAHHHHh

kusuke isn't scared of planes, he understands that the pilots and all other staff members are skilled at their respective field. though there was a sinking feeling in his stomach he couldn't get rid of– nausea? not quite. only certain foods made him feel nauseated, he's had a strict diet for years now; it couldn't've been that.

the plane finally lands. that was it. finally in london. then kusuke would navigate the place alone, not that he needed much help. oddly, at every turn, he can hear his parents. rather, he was imagining things they'd say if they were in london with him.

there are a lot of people in the airport. kusuke thinks of kusuo. he'll be fine. kusuke tries to imagine all the thoughts that would make itself heard in kusuo's head. it rather annoys him, wasting his thoughts on locals and foreigners alike. what does he gain from thinking of what other people are thinking–? when there was someone kilometers away that could effortlessly know it without even wanting to do so?

kusuke shrugs his shoulders, fixing his jacket. while he's adjusting to cambridge, he'll have to try not to dwell too much on why he moved there in the first place.

i just hope dad doesn't rely on him too much while i'm gone. he'll be fine. i'll be fine.

[wine-dark-soup]

i can't believe y'sthola is a bisexual catgirl who would cross the rift between worlds for her boyfriend and would create a trans-planar beacon of aether to always be able to locate her girlfriend

[dark-elf-writes]

Fic idea where Cloud and Lazard are both Shinra bastards who get along shockingly well with Rufus (time travel shenanigans mayhaps?) but it’s told exclusively through the lens of the Turks assigned to the three of them that just want their charges to Stop. Getting. Into situations. For like five minutes.

[nightwingsgirlfriend]

When i was like seven i felt really bad for Joseph because like imagine your girl randomly gets pregnant, claims it's god and then the baby is born and starts calling some cloud dad like you aren't there that's so sad. You don't even get to be a virgin you are just the guy who chopped wood or something. No wonder he's a saint

[hungarianmudkip69]

look at him. my sweet baby boy

[mssalo]

worship

Ignored and humiliated by your husband, you find yourself in Joel's arms-his best friend who's been silently craving you for far too long. One heated night pushes you both over the edge, and Joel isn't holding back. He's ready to give you what your husband never could: everything.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cheating, body worship, your husband treating you bad, Joel treating you good, oral (f receiving), kissing, (P in V), pinning, cumming Inside, breeding kink, Joel gets nasty with it, 10k

Part: 2

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

The late afternoon sunlight filtered gently through the lace curtains, casting soft patterns across the dining table where you sat with Sarah, helping her with her homework. Your smile, though kind, felt heavy today. You leaned over the table, explaining a math problem to her with patience, even though your mind was clouded with thoughts of your husband.

It had been weeks—maybe months—since he’d been fully present. You had long suspected something was off, but now it was undeniable. He came home late, if at all, and when he did, his eyes never seemed to meet yours. You’d catch glimpses of texts on his phone, messages you weren’t supposed to see. You weren’t stupid. You knew.

But you’d spent so long being the perfect wife, the one who never caused trouble. He’d always introduced you as his “trophy,” an arm to show off at events, beautiful and polished. It was the role you’d filled for years, playing the part he wanted you to play. Smile, be perfect, don’t question. And you had been doing just that for far too long, even though inside you were crumbling.

You brushed a strand of hair from your face and forced a warm smile as Sarah struggled with her fractions.

You adored Joel’s daughter. She was smart, sweet, and had a lightness about her that made your heart ache with a longing for the family you never had. Sarah was only fourteen, but she had a way of reading people that made you think she saw right through you.

“You’re doing great, sweetie,” you encouraged her softly. “Just think of the numerator as the number on top and the denominator as the number on the bottom.”

Sarah gave you a soft smile, but it was clear she wasn’t fully focused. Her big, brown eyes studied you carefully, picking up on the sadness that lingered just beneath the surface of your cheerful demeanor.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice hesitant but filled with concern. “You seem… off today.”

Your heart sank a little at the realization that she noticed. You were supposed to be the adult here, the one keeping it all together, but it was getting harder to hide the cracks. You blinked back the tears threatening to well up, reaching over to give Sarah’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m okay, baby,” you whispered softly, trying to steady your voice. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

Sarah looked at you for a moment longer, her brow furrowed as if she didn’t quite believe you, but she didn’t push it. She was too kind for that, too sweet. You wished your own husband had even a fraction of the empathy this girl had. Instead, he barely acknowledged your presence anymore, leaving you to feel like a ghost in your own home.

After Sarah finished her homework, you walked her to the door, sending her off with her usual hug. She hugged you back tightly, sensing more than you were letting on, but when you said goodbye, you assured her again that you were fine. She gave you one last concerned look before heading home.

After Sarah left, the silence in the house became overwhelming, filling every corner with the weight of your thoughts.

You leaned against the door for a moment, closing your eyes, fighting the urge to let the tears spill over. It was getting harder to keep up the facade. The loneliness, the sense of being unseen in your own marriage—it was suffocating.

You’d done everything you could to save the relationship, to bring back the warmth that had once existed between you and your husband, but there was nothing left.

With a deep breath, you pushed away from the door and headed to the kitchen, trying to busy yourself with anything that could distract you from the ache in your chest. But the sound of a knock at the door startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You weren’t expecting anyone.

When you opened it, Joel stood on your porch, concern etched into his rugged features. His broad shoulders seemed even larger framed by the doorway, his familiar Texas drawl cutting through the silence as he spoke.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gentle but serious. “Sarah told me you weren’t doing too good today. Figured I’d come by and check on you.”

You blinked, surprised but not unwelcome to see him standing there. It took a moment for you to gather your thoughts, your heart catching in your throat at the sight of him. Joel had always been kind to you, always present in a way your husband wasn’t. He was a steady, comforting presence in your life, one you had grown to rely on more than you ever intended.

“I—I’m fine,” you stammered, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to worry her. It’s just been a long day.”

Joel’s brow furrowed, and he didn’t hesitate to step inside, closing the door behind him. He looked down at you with those dark, thoughtful eyes of his, reading you in ways you wished your husband still could. His gaze softened, but he didn’t buy your answer for a second.

“You don’t gotta put up a front with me,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I can tell somethin’s been bothering you.”

It was those words—the way he said them with such understanding, such care—that made something in you break. You couldn’t hold it together any longer, not with Joel standing there, offering the kind of concern and kindness you hadn’t felt in so long. The tears you had been holding back began to well up again, this time falling before you could stop them.

Joel stepped forward, his hands settling gently on your arms.

“Hey, hey now… don’t cry,” he murmured softly. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

His words, so simple yet so full of warmth, only made the tears come faster. You wiped at your cheeks, embarrassed that you were falling apart like this in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to… it’s just… everything feels so wrong.”

Joel’s grip tightened slightly, a gesture of reassurance. He guided you over to the couch, sitting beside you as you tried to compose yourself. You leaned into him instinctively, finding comfort in the solid presence of his body next to yours. Joel had always had this way of making you feel safe, like you could let your guard down without fear of judgment.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly, his hand still resting on your arm, warm and steady.

You hesitated, the words heavy in your throat. You’d kept it all inside for so long, afraid to say it out loud, afraid that acknowledging it would make it all too real. But sitting there, with Joel looking at you like he genuinely cared, it all came tumbling out.

“He doesn’t care anymore, Joel,” you murmured, the words spilling from your lips, weighed down by the months of heartache you had been carrying. “It’s like I’m invisible to him. He doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t even look at me… and I know he’s seeing someone else.”

The effect on Joel was immediate. His jaw clenched tightly, the muscles in his face twitching as he tried to contain the anger that flared up inside him.

His eyes darkened, filling with a storm of emotions—disbelief, frustration, and something protective, primal. His hand, which had been resting gently on your arm, tightened its grip slightly, grounding you as he processed your words.

He stared at you for a long moment, his face a mix of shock and disbelief, as if he couldn’t comprehend how anyone could treat you that way.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Joel muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice low and rough. “How could he—how could anyone—do that to you? To you of all people?”

He shook his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. His voice softened, but the rough edges of his anger were still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

“You deserve so much more than that. You deserve someone who sees you, who knows just how lucky they are to have you.”

Joel leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, urgent murmur as he continued.

“You’re kind, thoughtful… hell, you’re always puttin’ everyone else first. The way you care for Sarah like she’s your own, the way you keep your home so warm and welcoming, the way you’ve always been there for him… you’re so damn good, and he doesn’t even see it.” He shook his head again, the disbelief etched deep in his furrowed brow.

“How could he not see that? How could he throw that away?”

His eyes softened as he looked at you, filled with a mixture of admiration and frustration.

“It breaks my heart to see you treated like this. You deserve someone who cherishes you, who shows up for you, every day… who loves you for exactly who you are.”

His words hit you like a wave, each one wrapped in the raw sincerity and care that had always been so natural for Joel. You could see the anger and confusion in his eyes—he truly couldn’t understand how anyone could treat you as anything less than extraordinary.

You had been trying so hard to convince yourself that it was enough to be the perfect wife, to keep playing the role you had been assigned, but Joel’s kindness made you question all of it. His care, his attention—it was what you had been craving for so long, and now, here he was, offering it to you without asking for anything in return.

“But I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling as the weight of everything settled heavily on your shoulders. “I’ve tried so hard to make it work, to be what he wants, but nothing’s enough.”

Joel’s hand lifted to your face, gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his palm grounded you, the rough texture of his skin a stark contrast to the tenderness in his touch. He guided your face to meet his eyes, filled with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“You don’t need to be what he wants,” Joel said, his voice low, almost a growl, roughened by emotion.

“You deserve to be seen, to be loved for who you are. Not just for what you can give someone else.”

His words hung in the air between you, wrapping around your heart, pulling at the deepest parts of you that had felt so neglected, so starved for this very thing—connection.

The space between you felt charged, heavy with unspoken emotions that had been simmering for far too long. It was as though every unexpressed feeling, every suppressed desire had built up into a moment that neither of you could stop.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the ache of loneliness and longing that had been gnawing at you for months. Joel had always been there, quietly, steadily, offering you the care your husband never could.

And now, sitting so close to him, his hand on your cheek, the warmth of his body radiating toward you, the pull between you was undeniable.

“Joel…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, your gaze flickering between his deep brown eyes and his lips, so close, so tempting.

He didn’t move away. Instead, his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. His touch was tender, but his eyes were dark, filled with something deeper—something that had been quietly building between you for longer than either of you cared to admit.

“I’ll take care of you,” Joel whispered, his voice rough with the promise of protection, of something more. “You don’t have to go through this alone anymore.”

Your heart raced, torn between the vulnerability of the moment and the undeniable comfort of his words.

The way he spoke, the way he looked at you—it was everything you had been craving for so long. The tenderness you had missed, the feeling of being truly seen, appreciated, cared for. It was overwhelming. And yet…

Before you could fully process what was happening, Joel leaned in. His lips brushed against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. The world around you seemed to disappear, the only thing grounding you being the warmth of his lips and the steady strength of his hand still cradling your face.

The kiss was gentle at first, full of the tenderness and care you had longed for, but there was something else beneath it, something more intense, more primal, as if he had been holding back for too long and couldn’t anymore.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if needing something to hold on to, something solid in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

His kiss deepened slightly, his other hand moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer. It felt like everything you had wanted—someone who saw you, who cared for you, who wanted you.

But just as quickly as the warmth of the kiss had filled you, the weight of guilt crashed down like a tidal wave. You broke away, pulling back suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest, breath coming in short gasps. You shook your head, stepping out of his reach, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips, but your mind already spinning.

“I—” you stammered, the words barely forming as you backed away, your hands trembling. “I can’t… I’m sorry, Joel, I just… I can’t do this.”

The look on Joel’s face was one of hurt and confusion, but also understanding. He stood there, his arms falling to his sides as he watched you retreat.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, his voice gentle, though the rough edge of his emotion was still there. “You don’t need to apologize.”

You took another step back, trying to steady yourself, your heart in your throat. “It’s not right,” you murmured, your voice trembling as you tried to rationalize everything that had just happened. “I can’t… I’m still married, and this… this is wrong.”

Joel didn’t argue. He didn’t push. He just watched you, his eyes filled with a mixture of understanding and a quiet sorrow.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt anymore,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. “You deserve better than the way he treats you.”

His words hit you hard, but you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t face the reality of what had just happened, of what you had almost allowed yourself to feel. The guilt was too much, too overwhelming. You turned away, your hands still trembling as you moved toward the stairs, needing distance, needing space to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice barely audible as you left Joel standing alone in the living room. You hurried upstairs, your heart heavy, your mind racing, every step a reminder of the pull between you and Joel that you had just tried so desperately to resist.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you paused, your hand gripping the banister as you tried to steady your breath. You could still feel the warmth of his lips on yours, the safety of his arms around you, and it terrified you.

Because for the first time in so long, you had felt something real, something you wanted. And yet, the weight of everything else—your marriage, your vows, the guilt—it was too much to bear.

You didn’t look back, but you could feel Joel’s presence downstairs, lingering in the quiet of the house. His words echoed in your mind, and despite everything, you knew deep down that what he had said was true: you deserved more. But admitting that meant facing the truth about everything you had been avoiding for so long.

And you weren’t ready for that.

· · ─────

The days following the kiss were thick with awkwardness and tension that hung between you and Joel like a fog neither of you knew how to clear. Every time you thought about it—his lips on yours, the tenderness in his touch, the way he had made you feel seen and wanted—your stomach twisted with guilt. But there was another feeling too, one that gnawed at you in the quiet moments when you were alone: longing. That kiss had stirred something deep inside you, something that had been buried for far too long, and now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

You longed for that feeling again—the safety, the warmth, the tenderness that had been absent from your life for so long. It made the distance between you and your husband feel even wider, the coldness in your marriage more unbearable. But despite how much you tried to shake it, that kiss was constantly on your mind.

Then came the day Joel came over to watch the football game with your husband. You knew it was coming—your husband had mentioned it in passing—but you weren’t prepared to see Joel again. The thought of being in the same room as him after what had happened made your heart race and your palms sweat.

When Joel arrived, you could hear his familiar knock on the door, followed by your husband’s slurred greeting. He had already been drinking, you noticed. You had hoped he would keep it under control, but knowing him, that was never a safe bet.

You opened the door and found Joel standing there, looking as calm and collected as ever. But the moment his eyes met yours, a wave of heat rushed to your face, your heart skipping in your chest. You tried to keep your expression neutral, but it was impossible to ignore the way the memory of that kiss flooded your senses all at once.

He shifted slightly, his hands slipping into his pockets, as if he was just as unsure of how to handle the tension between you. His gaze flickered over your face for just a second longer than it should have, his eyes darkening with something unspoken before he quickly looked away.

You felt the blush creeping up your neck, your cheeks growing warmer by the second. You cleared your throat, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to greet him without giving anything away.

“H-hi, Joel,” you stammered, forcing yourself to look at him, even though your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. Your fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of your shirt, desperate to find something—anything—to do with your hands.

Joel’s eyes flicked back to yours briefly, and you could see the hesitation there, the same uncertainty you were feeling. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his voice coming out low and gruff, but with a warmth that only made you blush harder.

“hello there,” he said, his tone casual, but the way his eyes softened when he looked at you made your stomach flip.

The awkwardness was palpable, like neither of you knew exactly what to say. You wanted to hide from the intensity of the moment, to avoid the feelings that had been swirling between you since that kiss. Your gaze darted down to your feet, your fingers still twisting the fabric of your shirt nervously.

Your husband’s voice suddenly bellowed from the living room, a loud demand for more beer, pulling both of you out of the charged moment. Joel winced slightly, his brow furrowing in mild annoyance at the sound, but you just gave a small, flustered nod.

“Uh, I’ll get that for him,” you mumbled quickly, stepping aside to let Joel in, your skin tingling with the awareness of how close he was as he brushed past you.

As Joel entered, you couldn’t help but glance at him one last time, your heart racing again when you saw the way his eyes lingered on you for a brief second before he turned toward the living room, where your husband was already half-immersed in the game.

“Thanks,” Joel murmured softly, his voice still gruff but gentle as he moved to sit beside your husband.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You knew tonight was going to be hard—being in the same room as Joel, pretending that nothing had changed. But the way your heart leapt every time you caught his eye made it clear that things were far from normal between you.

The night dragged on painfully, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. Your husband’s drinking had started early, his excitement for the game quickly turning into something darker, something meaner as the alcohol took hold. It wasn’t unusual for him to drink during football, but tonight, it seemed worse than usual. Each beer drained away whatever patience he had left, and you could feel his mood souring with every sip.

“Get me another one,” he grunted, not bothering to look at you as he pointed at the empty bottle on the coffee table.

You moved quickly, not wanting to cause a scene, especially not with Joel sitting there. The last thing you needed was for Joel to witness the full extent of your husband’s irritability. But as you handed him the beer, your husband’s gaze flickered up to you, and his expression turned sour.

“Can’t you just do one damn thing right?” he muttered, snatching the bottle from your hand. His words were slurred but sharp, laced with frustration as if your mere presence irritated him.

Your cheeks flushed with humiliation, the familiar sting of his words settling deep inside you. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you from across the room, but you didn’t dare look at him. The embarrassment was too much. All you wanted was to get through the night, to make it out of this room with what little dignity you had left.

But it only got worse. As the game continued, your husband’s tone grew harsher, his demands more insistent.

“Get me some more chips,” he barked, barely glancing at you. You quickly obliged, fetching the bowl from the kitchen, trying to keep your hands steady as you placed it on the table in front of him.

Joel, always polite, nodded in your direction. “Thanks,” he said softly, his voice warm and sincere. The contrast between Joel’s quiet gratitude and your husband’s increasing belligerence was jarring, and it only made the ache in your chest worse.

As you turned to walk back to the kitchen, you felt it—your husband’s hand coming down hard on your ass, the slap echoing through the room. You froze in place, your entire body going rigid as the sting of his hand sent a wave of humiliation crashing over you.

“Good girl,” he slurred, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’re real good at one thing at least, huh?”

The room felt like it was spinning, your face burning with shame. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, to even breathe for a moment. Joel was right there. He had seen it all.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the humiliation overwhelming, crushing. You had endured so much already—his cruelty, his indifference—but this? In front of Joel?

You couldn’t stay in the room any longer. Without a word, you turned and walked quickly toward the stairs, your vision blurring as the tears threatened to spill. You could hear your husband muttering something under his breath, but you didn’t care. You just needed to get away.

As you reached the bathroom, you closed the door behind you and leaned against the sink, gripping the edges tightly as the tears finally came. Your breath hitched in your throat as you tried to hold it together, but it was no use. The humiliation, the shame—it was all too much.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, your reflection blurred by the tears that streamed down your face.

What had happened to you? How had things gotten this bad?

You had spent years trying to hold onto the marriage, trying to make things work, but now it felt like you were nothing more than an afterthought, a servant in your own home. The sting of his hand, the cruel way he had dismissed you—it was unbearable.

You didn’t know how long you had been standing there when you heard a soft knock at the bathroom door.

“Hey… it’s me,” Joel’s voice came from the other side, low and cautious, full of concern.

Your heart tightened in your chest. You weren’t sure if you could face him, not after what had just happened. Not after he had seen the way your husband had treated you. But Joel wasn’t like your husband. He had always been kind, always understanding. He had seen you—truly seen you—when no one else had.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly.

You hesitated for a moment, wiping at your tear-streaked face as you tried to compose yourself. Then, slowly, you unlocked the door and pulled it open just enough to let him in.

Joel stepped inside, his presence filling the small space, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. His eyes softened when he saw your tear-streaked face, his brow furrowing in concern.

“I’m sorry,” Joel murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean for things to get like that.”

You shook your head quickly, wiping at your eyes again. “It’s not your fault,” you whispered. “It’s just… this is how it is. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Joel’s expression darkened slightly, but not with anger—just with sadness, frustration at the situation. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a tear from your cheek, his touch so different from the harshness you had just experienced. His fingers were warm, careful, like he was afraid to push you any further than you were ready for.

“You don’t deserve this,” he said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “You deserve better than the way he treats you.”

His words broke something inside you, and you felt your lip tremble as another sob escaped. You had been holding it in for so long—holding everything in, trying to be strong, trying to make it work. But now, standing here with Joel, it all came crashing down.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I feel so trapped.”

Joel didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, his eyes locked on yours, full of understanding. And then, quietly, he spoke again.

“You don’t have to go through this alone,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. Whatever you need… I’m here.”

The warmth in his words, the tenderness in his touch—it was more than you had felt in years. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt seen, felt valued. It stirred something deep inside you, something desperate and raw, a need that had been pushed down for so long.

Before you could even think about it, you lunged toward him, closing the small distance between you and crashing your lips into his. It wasn’t delicate or hesitant—it was a kiss born out of longing, out of months, maybe even years, of being unseen, unheard.

Your hands fisted into his shirt, pulling him closer as your body pressed against his, needing more, needing all of him.

Joel responded immediately, his hands gripping your waist as he kissed you back with a fierceness that matched your own. There was no hesitation in the way his lips moved against yours, no doubt in the way he held you tight.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, his mouth hungry, demanding.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was fire, igniting every nerve in your body. His kiss was rough, filled with a desperation that mirrored your own, like he had been holding back for too long and finally, finally, he could let go. The tension between you, all the unspoken words, all the stolen glances—it was exploding now in this moment, and neither of you could stop it.

Your heart raced as your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him under your fingertips. The years of loneliness, of being ignored, melted away with every touch, every kiss. Joel’s hands were everywhere, pulling you closer, pressing you against him as if he was afraid to let go.

He pulled back just slightly, his breath ragged, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice rough and thick with emotion, his lips still brushing against yours. “God, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

You couldn’t respond with words—you didn’t need to. Instead, you pulled him back into the kiss, your lips crashing together again, more desperate, more urgent. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you slightly as he backed you up against the bathroom wall, pinning you there as he kissed you harder, deeper.

There was no space left between you, no room for doubt or hesitation. Your body responded to his in ways you hadn’t felt in years, every nerve alight with the intensity of it. His hands slid down your sides, rough and possessive, holding you tightly as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You could feel the heat rising between you, the desperation building, as if all the longing, all the frustration had finally found an outlet. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, each touch making your breath hitch, your body arch into his.

“Joel…” you whispered, your voice breathless, barely able to get the words out.

But he already knew. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was even more intense, more consuming than before. You were lost in him, lost in the feel of him, the taste of him. Everything else—the hurt, the humiliation, the loneliness—faded away until there was only this moment, only Joel.

This was what you had been missing. This was what you had been longing for. And for the first time in so long, you felt alive.

Joel’s breath was hot against your skin as his lips moved along the curve of your neck, each kiss searing into you, grounding you in this moment, in him. His hands gripped you firmly, possessive yet tender, his touch a reassurance that you were more than what you had been made to feel for so long.

“God, you have no idea,” he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with need. “You’re everythin’. You deserve so much more than what he gives you. So much more.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the intensity in his tone, the sincerity. You could feel the heat between you building, your heart pounding as his lips moved lower, kissing along your collarbone, your chest. You were lost in the sensation, the way his hands moved over you, the way his breath ghosted over your skin.

Joel's kisses became more urgent, more fervent, as he slowly knelt before you, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants. He paused for a moment, looking up at you with an expression that was both filled with desire and a silent question—a request for permission, for trust.

“Let me worship you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, his hands steady as he began to ease your pants down, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent sparks through you. “I want to show you how much you mean to me. I want you to feel everything.”

The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity as he pulled your pants away, his eyes dark with want as he drank in the sight of you.

Joel stood, lifting you effortlessly in his arms, turning and pressing you gently but firmly against the wall. The coolness of the tile was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off of him, his body holding yours securely, every inch of your weight supported by his strength.

“You’re everythin’,” he murmured again, his lips finding yours in a deep, lingering kiss before trailing down your neck. “You deserve the world. And I’m gonna it to you.”

Without breaking the kiss, he shifted you slightly, his hands gripping your thighs as he held you against the wall. His mouth moved lower, his lips, his tongue, trailing over your stomach, your hips, until he was kneeling before you again, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady as he pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh.

The sensation of his breath against your skin made your head spin, the anticipation building as his kisses grew slower, more deliberate, inching closer and closer to the center of your need. Every kiss, every touch felt like a promise—a promise that you were cherished, that you were seen.

Joel’s lips trembled against your skin as he kissed down your stomach, rough and hungry, his hands gripping your hips tightly as though he was afraid to let go.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark with desire, and his breath came out hot against your bare thighs as he spread you open for him, his tongue flicking out to tease the edges of your soaked entrance.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he growled, his voice deep and husky. "I've been waitin’ for this, waitin’ to taste this sweet pussy. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about it—about you."

You gasped as he buried his face between your legs, his tongue flat and wide as he dragged it through your folds, groaning like he was savoring every drop.

His lips latched onto your clit, sucking hard, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your body. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as your legs trembled, and he groaned again, the vibration making you whimper.

"God, you're perfect," Joel mumbled against you, his voice muffled as he licked you with long, languid strokes. "This cunt is all mine tonight, yeah? You feel that? You hear that? This pussy's mine."

He sucked noisily, deliberately making sure every stroke of his tongue was loud, wet, and filthy. You could hear the lewd slurping sounds as he devoured you, his mouth greedy and desperate as if he’d been starving for this moment.

Your breath came out in ragged gasps, your whole body burning under his relentless attention.

“What if he hears?” you whispered, your voice shaky as your head fell back against the wall. “Joel… what if—”

“He won’t hear shit,” Joel cut you off, his voice rough with possessiveness. “That asshole’s passed out cold on the couch. Even if he could hear, I wouldn’t stop. He doesn’t deserve you. But I do.”

His tongue plunged into you, fucking you with wet, deep strokes, his nose brushing against your swollen clit as he grunted against you. “This pussy tastes so fuckin’ sweet, baby. All I want is to hear you moan for me. Let him fuckin’ hear it.”

You couldn’t help but whimper, your hips bucking against his face as he growled, his tongue thrusting deeper, his lips and chin coated with your arousal. He pulled back for just a second, his breath heavy, his eyes wild as he looked up at you.

"Fuck, I could eat this pussy all night," he murmured, his voice almost a snarl as he gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you even closer. "I want to make you come on my tongue over and over, until you can't stand. You deserve to be worshipped like this. I’m not stoppin’ until you scream my name."

With that, he dove back in, his tongue swirling over your clit as he sucked you harder, his mouth relentless. You moaned louder, your fingers tugging at his hair as your body arched off the wall, pleasure crashing through you with every filthy stroke of his tongue.

He groaned again, louder this time, savoring every moment as he devoured you, his mouth hot and hungry, like he couldn’t get enough.

He alternated between sucking your clit hard, his lips tight around the sensitive bud, and sliding his tongue deep inside you, fucking your pussy with slow, torturous strokes.

Each time you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, his hands gripping your thighs so hard it felt like he was staking a claim.

"Yeah, that’s it," he murmured between licks, his voice raw. "I want to hear you scream for me. Let me hear how much you love it when I eat this sweet little cunt."

Your moans grew louder, filling the bathroom as Joel’s tongue worked you harder, faster, his groans matching your own as he lost himself in the taste of you.

His hands slid up your body, gripping your breasts roughly as he continued to feast on you, the pleasure so intense it was overwhelming. You couldn’t stop yourself anymore—every nerve was on fire, your mind blank as you gave in completely to him.

"Joel, fuck, I’m gonna—" you gasped, your thighs trembling as you teetered on the edge of release.

"Cum for me, baby," he growled, his voice hoarse as his tongue flicked over your clit again, harder, faster, relentless. "Cum on my tongue. I want to taste all of it."

With a final, devastating suck on your clit, you shattered. Pleasure slammed into you, your entire body shaking as you screamed his name, your nails digging into his scalp as he held you in place, his mouth still working you through the waves of your orgasm.

Joel didn’t stop—he kept licking, kept sucking, devouring every drop as your body convulsed, the intensity of it making your legs shake.

He moaned against you, his tongue softening slightly but still teasing your swollen clit as you came down, his grip on your hips loosening just enough to let you catch your breath.

When he finally pulled back, his face was slick with your arousal, his eyes dark with lust as he looked up at you, his chest heaving.

"You taste like heaven," he rasped, his voice thick with satisfaction as he stood, pressing his body against yours again, his lips crashing into yours in a bruising kiss.

You could taste yourself on his lips, feel the raw, aching desire still burning between you, and you knew this was only the beginning.

“That’s what you deserve,” he whispered, his hands roaming over your body, possessive and loving all at once. “And I’m not done worshippin’ you.”

Joel’s hands moved up your body slowly, deliberately, as if savoring every second his fingers touched your skin. His breath was still ragged, and his lips were barely an inch from yours as he whispered against them, his voice rough but tender.

“If you were my woman, I’d never let you leave the house without makin’ you cum at least twice,” he murmured, his words sending a shiver through you. “And here he is, treatin’ you like garbage. Doesn’t he see? You’re a goddess.”

He paused, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, his touch gentle but insistent as he slowly pulled it up, over your head, tossing it to the side. His eyes darkened with hunger as he gazed at your bare skin, his breath coming out in a heavy exhale as he traced his fingers along the curve of your waist, up to the clasp of your bra.

“You represent everything good in this world,” Joel continued, his voice deepening as his fingers worked to unhook your bra, his eyes locked on yours. “He should feel so damn lucky to have you. How can he not see what he has?”

Your bra fell away, and his eyes dropped to your breasts, the sight of them making him groan deeply, the sound vibrating in his chest. His hands cupped them reverently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as his lips curled into a smirk.

“These,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, “prove my point exactly.”

Without another word, Joel dipped his head, his lips brushing against one of your nipples before he drew it into his mouth, sucking gently at first, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak.

The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight through your core, your back arching as you gasped, your hands instinctively finding his hair, pulling him closer.

He groaned again, his hand kneading your other breast as his mouth worked your nipple with expert precision, sucking harder, his tongue flicking over the sensitive flesh with just the right amount of pressure. Every movement of his mouth, every touch of his hands, felt like he was worshipping you, like you were something precious and sacred.

“I swear,” Joel mumbled against your skin, his lips trailing to your other nipple, sucking it into his mouth with the same intensity.

“If you were mine, I’d worship this body every damn day. You deserve to be treated like the goddess you are, not some afterthought.”

His teeth grazed your nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you, making you whimper as he continued to suck and lick, his hands never leaving your body, constantly exploring, worshipping. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you, his mouth greedy, his hands possessive, but all of it wrapped in the tenderness that made your heart ache.

“Look at you,” he groaned, his breath hot against your skin as he switched between your breasts, lavishing each one with the same amount of attention. “Every part of you is fuckin’ perfect.”

His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you, his erection hard and insistent through his jeans. The friction only added to the heat between you, the tension building with every kiss, every touch. Joel’s lips moved back up to your neck, his breath ragged as he pressed soft kisses along your jawline, his words spilling out between them.

“I could spend all night tastin’ you, touchin’ you,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with raw emotion. “You deserve to feel this good all the time. I’d make sure you never forgot it.”

Your mind was spinning, your body burning under his touch. Every word he spoke, every movement of his mouth, was like gasoline on a fire, and you were completely consumed by him, by the way he made you feel—seen, wanted, worshipped.

Joel’s hands slid back up to your breasts, kneading them as his lips claimed yours in another searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he pressed you harder against the wall, his body radiating heat, his need for you palpable.

“Tell me,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me how much you want this.”

Your breath hitched, your lips parting as his words hung in the air between you. The heat in his eyes, the intensity of his touch—it was overwhelming, and you couldn’t stop yourself from responding.

“I want it so bad, Joel,” you whispered, your voice shaky with need, your body arching into him. “Please… take your clothes off. I need to feel you.”

He groaned at your words, his hands gripping your hips tightly, his erection pressing harder against you.

“Yeah, baby,” he growled, his lips brushing yours, “you need to see a real man. Feel a real cock, not just someone who acts like one. I’ll show you the difference.”

With a swift movement, Joel pulled back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, revealing the broad, muscular chest that you’d only stolen glances at before. His skin glistened with sweat, his muscles flexing as he moved, and the sight of him made your mouth water. Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles as you let out a soft moan of appreciation.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you murmured, your voice breathless as your hands wandered lower, desperate to feel every inch of him.

Joel smirked, his hands already working to unbuckle his jeans, his voice dropping to a rough, dirty whisper. “You want this cock, hm? You’ve been starving for it—starving for a man who knows how to take care of you, who knows how to make you cum like you deserve.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as he pushed his jeans and boxers down in one fluid motion, his thick, hard cock springing free, already leaking with precum. It was big—thick and long, veins running down the shaft, the head swollen and glistening.

He gave it a slow stroke, his eyes locked on yours, the sight making your thighs clench with anticipation.

“See this?” he growled, tapping his cock against your thigh, making your breath hitch. “This is what you’ve been missin’. And I’m gonna make sure you never forget what a real man feels like.”

You whimpered in response, your hands reaching out to touch him, to wrap your fingers around his length, but he pulled back slightly, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Not yet, baby,” he murmured, his voice full of filthy promise. “I want you to feel it everywhere first.”

With that, Joel pressed his cock against your stomach, dragging it slowly across your skin, leaving a slick trail of precum in its wake. You moaned, the sensation driving you wild, your body arching into him as you felt the heat of his shaft sliding over your skin.

“Fuck, you look so good with my cock on you,” he groaned, his hand gripping his length as he slid it up between your breasts, over your chest, your neck, and then back down again. “You want this. You want to feel it inside you, stretchin’ you, fillin’ you up.”

“Yes, Joel, please,” you whimpered, your voice shaking with desperation. “I need it. I need you. I want your cock so bad, I can’t stand it.”

He chuckled darkly, his hand moving to tap the thick head of his cock against your clit, the sudden jolt of pleasure making you cry out.

“You want it here, yeah?” he growled, slapping his cock against your swollen clit again, harder this time, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “You want to feel me inside this tight little pussy, fuckin’ you like you’ve never been fucked before.”

“Oh, God, yes,” you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders as your body trembled with need. “Fuck me, Joel. I want to feel every inch of you. I want you to ruin me.”

His eyes flashed with pure desire as he tapped his cock against your clit again, the wet head of his cock throbbing as more precum leaked out, mixing with your own arousal.

He dragged his length through your folds, coating himself in your slickness, groaning as he teased you.

“I’m gonna make you scream for me,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll never even think about another man again. You’ll be mine, baby. This pussy will be mine.”

Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you, making you ache for him. Every word he spoke, every filthy promise he made, sent another wave of heat crashing through you, your body desperate for the release only he could give.

“Say it,” Joel demanded, his voice rough as he slid just the tip inside you, stretching you ever so slightly. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Joel,” you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tighter as you felt him start to push inside you. “I’m yours. Please, fuck me. Make me yours.”

With a deep, guttural groan, Joel thrust into you, his cock stretching you wide, filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, your body arching into his as he buried himself deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips as he held you in place.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his voice strained as he began to move, his cock sliding in and out of you in slow, deliberate strokes. “This pussy is mine now, baby. And I’m gonna make you cum so hard, you’ll forget anyone else ever existed.”

Joel’s thrusts were deep and deliberate, each one sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, but the delicious pressure only intensified the raw need coursing between you. His cock filled you so completely, stretching you to the point where you could barely think straight, only able to feel him.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Joel groaned, his voice rough with lust as he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you with a force that made you gasp.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with your ragged moans and the wet, lewd sounds of your pussy taking every inch of him.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice low and rough as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “This is what you’d get with me all the time. Not that half-assed bullshit you’ve been settlin for. You’d get this—my cock fillin’ you up, my hands on your body, making you cum until you can’t even fuckin stand.”

He punctuated his words with rough, powerful thrusts, his cock driving deeper into you with each one. Your head fell back against the wall, your legs trembling as he held you up, completely at his mercy.

“You feel that?” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear as his hips snapped into you again and again. “You deserve this, you deserve to be fucked like this every day. Not treated like you’re worthless.”

Joel’s mouth was everywhere—his lips moving over your neck, nipping at your skin before kissing and licking at the sensitive spot just below your ear.

His tongue flicked out, tasting the salt of your skin, and you moaned, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he fucked you harder, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, his voice thick with praise and hunger. “My perfect little good girl.”

He kissed down your neck, his lips trailing lower until he found your breasts again, groaning as he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. The sensation of his mouth on your sensitive skin, combined with the relentless pace of his hips, had you gasping, your body on the verge of breaking apart with pleasure.

“Fuck, ’could suck these tits all day,” Joel murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing your nipple as he switched to the other breast, sucking and licking, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he fucked you harder.

“So fuckin’ beautiful. You’d get this all the time with me, baby. You’re my good girl, hm?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, your nipples aching under his relentless attention. “I’m your good girl. Please, don’t stop.”

Joel growled, a deep, primal sound that sent a shiver down your spine as he kissed his way back up to your mouth, his lips crashing against yours in a bruising kiss.

His tongue invaded your mouth, hungry and demanding, as he continued to pound into you, each thrust harder than the last, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You whimpered beneath him, your nails digging into his back as he pounded into you, his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you with every thrust.

The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming you, and you could barely form coherent words. All you could do was moan his name, begging for more.

“That’s my good girl,” Joel rasped, his lips trailing down your neck as his hips snapped harder, faster. “You love this, baby? You love havin’ my cock so deep inside you, fuckin’ you the way you deserve. Tell me, baby. Tell me how much you need it.”

“I need it,” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as your head fell back against the wall, your body trembling with pleasure.

“I need you so bad, Joel. I need your cock. I need you to fuck me harder. I love it. Please, Joel, don’t stop.”

“I won’t stop,” he growled, his hands sliding up your body, cupping your breasts again as he continued to thrust into you, his cock hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“I’ll never stop. You’ll never go a day without feelin’ this. Without knowing how fuckin’ perfect you are.”

His lips moved across your face, kissing your cheeks, your jaw, before finding your neck again, sucking and biting at your skin as he pounded into you. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pushed you closer to the brink of release.

His tongue claimed your mouth with the same intensity as his cock claimed your pussy, his hands still worshipping your body as if he couldn’t stop touching you.

“You feel so good,” he growled against your lips, his breath ragged as his hips continued to slam into you.

“This is what I’d do every single day if you were mine. I’d wake you up with my tongue on this perfect pussy, make you cum before breakfast, fuck you until you can’t even think straight.”

You moaned loudly, your body arching into his as his filthy words made your head spin, the pleasure building inside you with every thrust of his cock.

His hand slid down your body, his thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in tight circles as he fucked you, his touch sending sparks through your veins.

“I’m gonna make you cum, babygirl,” Joel whispered, his voice thick with desire as he kissed you again, his tongue dominating yours. “I want you to cum all over my cock like a good girl. Show me how much you love it.”

You whimpered, your body trembling as the pleasure mounted, your mind going blank as Joel’s cock slammed into you harder, deeper. His hand on your clit, his mouth on your neck, his body pressed tightly against yours—it was too much, and you felt yourself spiraling toward release.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice rough as he felt you tighten around him. “Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

With a final, devastating thrust, the coil inside you snapped, and you screamed his name as your orgasm tore through you, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

Your pussy clenched around his cock, milking him as he groaned deeply, his hips never stopping, prolonging your pleasure as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Joel’s hips slowed, but his thrusts remained deep and deliberate, his cock throbbing inside you, the heat of him radiating against your skin. His breath came in hot, ragged bursts against your neck as his hands roamed possessively over your body, caressing every inch of your trembling form.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice thick with need as his hips ground deeper, each thrust making your body arch against him. “You’re fuckin’ perfect. My good girl.”

His words sent another jolt of desire through you, your body still sensitive from your orgasm, but you could feel his need, the tension in his body as he held back. His cock twitched inside you, and you knew he was close—so close.

Joel’s pace slowed slightly, his cock throbbing deep inside you as he hovered over you, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. His hand slid down your side, possessive, as if every inch of your body belonged to him now. He kissed along your jawline, his voice husky, thick with lust and something deeper.

“Where do you want me to cum, baby?” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his cock still twitching inside you.

“Tell me where you want it. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

You felt a rush of heat, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment. Your voice came out shaky, but full of want as you gasped, “Inside, Joel. Please cum inside me.”

A guttural groan escaped his throat, his eyes darkening as he stared at you, the words hitting him like a spark to gasoline.

"God, I’ve been dreamin’ of hearing you say that," he growled, his hips bucking forward again, harder this time. "Pumpin’ you full of my seed. Fuck… the thought of you pregnant with my child?"

“The thought of you, round and swollen with my baby—fuck, sometimes I just cum from imaginin’ it,” he growled, his voice growing more desperate as his thrusts quickened, his cock hitting deep inside you with every movement.

“You’d be so beautiful, so perfect. And you’d be mine—all mine.”

His words sent a shock of pleasure straight through you, the intensity of his dirty talk igniting every nerve in your body. Joel’s hands gripped your hips harder as he thrust deeper, his cock filling you completely with each powerful stroke. His voice was raw, full of desperate hunger as he whispered in your ear.

“Imagine it,” he rasped, his breath hot against your neck, his cock pounding into you relentlessly.

“You, swollen with my baby. I’d make you cum again and again while my child grows inside you. I’d take care of you, worship you… make you feel like the goddess you are.”

The filthy images he painted, combined with the overwhelming sensation of his thick cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy, made your body tremble, your mind reeling with the intensity of it. Your fingers dug into his back as your moans grew louder, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

His pace grew faster, more frantic as he chased his release, the idea of you full of his cum, of you carrying his child, driving him wild. You could feel him getting closer, his grip on your hips tightening as his cock swelled inside you, his thrusts becoming erratic.

“You’d be such a good mother,” he groaned, his voice rough as he buried his face in your neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up, baby. I’m gonna cum so deep inside you. I’m gonna make sure every drop stays inside. ’ gonna be so full of my cum.”

You were lost in him, lost in the way his body felt against yours, the way his words wrapped around you, pulling you deeper into the pleasure.

“Yes, Joel,” you gasped, your voice shaky as your body trembled with anticipation. “Please, cum inside me. I want it so bad.”

“Take it, baby. Take all of it. I’m fillin’ you up. God, you feel so fucking good.”

With a deep, primal growl, Joel’s hips slammed into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside as he came with a force that made his whole body shudder.

He held you tightly, his breath ragged as he groaned your name, his cum spilling inside you, filling you completely.

You could feel every twitch, every hot pulse of his release, the sensation sending you over the edge again, your body convulsing as a second wave of pleasure crashed through you.

His body shook with the force of his release, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged pants as he held you tightly, his cock twitching inside you as he emptied himself.

He stayed like that for a moment, his body pressed tightly against yours, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he caught his breath. His cock still twitched inside you, his cum warm and thick as it filled you completely. His hands caressed your sides, his touch tender and loving despite the roughness of what had just happened.

Joel’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he buried his face in your neck, still trembling with the aftermath of his orgasm. “Fuck… you’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice soft but full of emotion. “’ everything I’ve ever wanted.”

His cock still twitched inside you, the warmth of his cum spreading through your core as he slowly pulled back, pressing soft kisses along your neck, your shoulders.

Joel's breathing was still heavy, his chest pressed against yours as he held you tightly, his cock still buried inside you. He kissed your neck softly, murmuring between deep breaths.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this,” he rasped, his voice low and raw. “You have no idea how long I’ve been savin’ this for you, baby. No one else could ever do it for me. You’re the only one… the only woman I want. I’m full of it, every drop of cum was meant for you.”

His words were tender but possessive, the weight of what he was saying wrapping around you. His hand slid up your side gently, still exploring, as though he couldn’t get enough of touching you. His lips brushed your ear, and his voice took on a pleading tone.

“Please, baby,” he whispered softly, his fingers tightening around your waist. “Leave him. You deserve more. You deserve to be worshipped, loved, the way I’ll love you every single day. You’re mine now. You know that, don’t you?”

You felt your heart pound at the weight of his words, your body still trembling from the intensity of the moment.

As the intensity of the moment began to fade, the weight of Joel's words hung in the air between you. You felt the warmth of his body still pressed against yours, his breath steadying as he held you close, but now, the frantic passion had simmered into something deeper. Something certain.

For the first time in what felt like forever, clarity washed over you. Joel had peeled back all the layers of doubt, of shame, of loneliness, and left you with the undeniable truth—you deserved this. You deserved more.

You shifted slightly in his arms, and he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was soft, no longer driven by raw desire, but by something far more profound. There was a silent question there, one he didn’t have to ask out loud. He had already said it all.

You smiled softly, your fingers tracing over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. You didn’t need to say anything right now. You didn’t need to make promises or decisions this second. But for the first time, you knew. You knew what you wanted, who you wanted.

And Joel knew it too.

“I’ll wait for you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple, the tenderness of the moment grounding you both. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You nodded, feeling lighter than you had in years. You weren’t just his now—you were finally yours.

As the room grew quiet, the weight of your choices settled in, but it wasn’t daunting anymore. It felt like freedom. Like the start of something new.

The beginning of everything you’d been missing.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

[concreteangels24]

Christmas Drabble 2 

Bryn was sitting down on his couch when he turned on the TV and started flipping through the channels, once he had found something that he wanted to watch he went to that channel as he then stood up and made his way into his kitchen so he could get something to drink and he wanted to grab a candy cane from the little tree that he had on his table. Once he had that and then his drink he made himself and he sat back down on his couch he began to watch the show that was on TV. When Bryn is by himself he starts thinking of the craziest things that he could. Sucking on the candy cane for a few to the point where it was like a needle, pulling it out as he then said “Do you think I could make a candy cane into a weapon?” even though there was no one there with him that still didn’t stop him from talking to himself like there was someone there.  Looking at the candy cane he still wondered if he could because by the look of it maybe you could. This took a few moments as he wondered the questions that he had asked himself before he had gone back to sucking on his candy cane and watching his show. While he was doing so he then heard his phone starting to ring, turning as he picked it up and answered it. It was his mother's on the other end, he was so excited to talk to them. Bryn knew that he needed to get down to see them more but he just hadn’t had the money for him to down there. But he did try to call them as much as he could throughout the week to check up on them knowing they weren’t getting any younger by the day.  Once they were off the phone he then went back to watching his show as he also was going through his social media and messages that he had unread on his phone. Bryn still had that question in the back of his mind if he could make a candy cane into a weapon. Bryn took a drink of the beer that he had in his hands. Bryn was so excited to see his family this month for Christmas.

[extremelyaverageartist]

I keep getting to these late. I hope to finish today's as well but I might have to do that one tommorow. Anyway I'm pretty proud of this one

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Hero and Hope

Based off a world where everyone gets a Destiny they must fulfill. Bakers and Demon Kings (x) and Villagers (X). You? You are a Hero.

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

You are a Hero.

Nobody at the orphanage knows. The mark sets during the worst winter in three decades, when the windows have to be barred to prevent snow spirits from ripping them to shreds and the Director takes half the reserves and runs in the middle of the night.

Sarah, the only caregiver left in the rickety building, holds as many of the kids as she can while the snow spirits scream outside. You’d love to be in the circle of her arms, but you’re holding the door shut with as much strength as your eight-year-old arms allow.

She doesn’t tell you to get away from the door.

“It’s alright,” she says, voice trembling. Her brown hair, matted from the months indoors, hides her eyes. She croons to the younger kids like a bird, so softly and gently that you have to strain to hear it over the howling demons and roaring winds. “We’ll be okay. Our land’s Lord will send a Hero, you’ll see. We’ll be okay then.”

Your arms burn as intensely as your eyes. A Hero. Your stomach aches from hunger and your fingers sting from the cold. You aren’t sure how much good you’re doing keeping the door closed, but there’s something deep inside of you that tells you you must do something. The blows from the snow spirits outside vibrate up your arms, nearly throwing you back.

Heroes, you think, only matter if they show up.

Hope is traumatic. Eight-years-old and you’ve been returned from potential families twice. Three days ago, you found the beginnings of greenery in the woods behind the orphanage. When you excitedly raced back to tell the others that winter was ending, it was only to find the Director and most of the caregivers gone with a significant portion of the rations.

Then the storm clouds rolled in.

So that long, dangerous night, you don’t hope. You shut your ears to Sarah’s gentle comforts and the snow spirits’ shrieks. You focus on the burning in your arms, the blisters forming on your heels, the cold nipping at your fingers.

Hope is traumatic but trying is something you can do. You put your small body between all of the horrors outside the door and the other kids. You try to stand firm.

You don’t notice when the burning in your arms hides the arrival of a telling mark on your left bicep.

---------------------.

You are fourteen years old, one year shy of coming into your power, when a couple visits the orphanage intending to adopt.

Sarah is now the Director of the orphanage, awarded the position by the land’s Lord after that terrible winter six years ago. She’s different than she was then. You lost three kids to hunger before spring finally came and she held each one in their last moments.

You and Sarah never develop the close relationship she has with the other kids. But she always makes sure you have more meat in your meals than most and, when you hunt in the woods, you always let her decide how the food will be divided between dinner and winter stores.

“We’re Knights,” the potential adopters tell the Director. They’re a couple, a man and a woman with dark hair and muscular bodies. “Retired. We’re settling just north of here for good and are looking for a suitable child who can follow in our footsteps.”

Director Sarah looks at them coldly, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands over her stomach. If she notices you and two of the younger kids peeking through the crack in the door, she doesn’t say anything. “I apologize, Mr. and Mrs. Bahr, but it seems there’s a misunderstanding. We do not pair children with families based on their Destiny.”

“We’re not saying you do,” Mrs. Bahr says. Her gaze is cutting though her shoulders are relaxed. “Our Lord explained before we came. However, there is no rule against asking the children their Destiny, is there?”

Loophole. You pull away from the crack in the door, letting Hera and Josiah take your spot. You lean against the wall with your eyes closed. Orphanages aren’t allowed to disclose Destinies, but that’s where the protection ends. If someone sees a child’s Destiny or learns of it through some other means, that’s alright.

These people aren’t here to adopt because they want a child. They’re here to adopt for a guarantee. A guarantee of what remains to be seen. An heir like they claim? A prodigy for status? Or a weapon for them to control?

You listen for any other clues behind their motives, but the Bahrs don’t push the issue of Destiny again. They accept Director Sarah’s schedule for meeting the kids, even offering to host a picnic day at their estate as a treat. The couple wants to gain trust, you can tell, and by the end of the meeting it’s working.

Director Sarah sees them off to the door herself.

“We’ll wait for the invitation,” she says. She’s older now, her thin brown hair showing the beginning signs of going grey. But her handshake looks strong when she shakes Mrs. Bahr’s in farewell. “I’m sure the children will be thrilled.”

“I hope so,” Mrs. Bahr says. Her husband nods to the Director gravely, but Mrs. Bahr lingers. “I’m sorry if we came off a little…forward when we mentioned Destinies. Please believe me when I say that my husband and I aren’t so shallow. We are looking for a child – one we can call our own.”

“I see,” Director Sarah says. There’s a hint of warmth in her voice. “As I said, we look forward to your invitation.”

Mrs. Bahr nods and joins her husband in their carriage. They set off down the road without once having asked to meet one of the children on the first day of their introduction.

You can tell Sarah likes them.

“What do you think?” Sarah asks. She doesn’t turn from the road, even though the Bahr’s carriage is out of sight. “Isla?”

You don’t ask how she knows it’s you lurking in the shadows of the orphanage. Director Sarah is a Guardian. Her senses are elevated when it comes to those under her charge.

“I don’t think anything,” you say. You step out from around the corner with a sigh. No use hiding now. “They’re influential people if they were recommended here by the Lord himself. We’re fortunate.”

“You’re the right age for a Knight’s apprenticeship,” Sarah says.

“Hera hasn’t shown me her Destiny, but it’s probably something suitable,” you say. Hera is ten, one of the older kids at the orphanage. Last summer she lifted Josiah, only a year younger than her and already a head taller, out of the well before he could drown. “You should talk to her about what being part of a Knight family could mean.”

Sarah looks at you over her shoulder. The setting sun catches in her eyes, turning the warm brown into an unearthly amber. “I hope you can accept the possibility they might choose you.”

They won’t. “Aren’t I needed here?” you ask.

Sarah’s expression softens. “You are, Isla,” she says. She weighs her next words carefully. “But I am the one who’s responsible for all of you. I can take care of everyone. If the Bahr family is a good fit…”

“Sure,” you say flippantly. You shove your hands in your pockets and slink back into the orphanage. You don’t dare hope. “I’m going to help Josiah.” He’s on dinner duty tonight. He always cuts the onions too roughly. “See you later.”

You feel Sarah’s eyes on your back like a physical warmth.

-----------.

Being a Hero doesn’t change anything about you. You expected it to when you first noticed the mark but, even six years later, nothing’s different.

You aren’t kinder. When Josiah asks for your dessert, you steal a bit of his as punishment for even asking. When Hera asks for a bedtime story, you tell her one so scary that she has to sleep with one of the other girls. When Sarah asks you to fix the fence around the chickens, you whine and complain that you’re the only one who does anything around the orphanage.

“The curse of being the oldest,” Sarah says dryly. She hands you a hammer and a bucketful of nails. “Some posts were dropped off at the end of the lane. Make sure you’re back by sunset.”

Maybe you’re a little stronger than others. You can drag three posts at once and could probably drag more if you wanted. But another curse of being a Hero is that you’re very aware.

It’s not until you’re nailing a third rail to the fence that Mr. Bahr makes his presence known. You don’t turn even when he makes his steps purposefully heavy to avoid scaring you.

“You’re very strong,” Mr. Bahr says.

His shadow is long and thin, just like him. You observe it from your peripherals, unable to speak with the two nails you’re holding between your lips. You take your time pounding them into the wood. He’s arms, a sword at his hip, but his hands are loose at his sides.

“Good thing I am,” you say at last. You stand and turn in the same motion. He waited for you to finish without chastising you for not speaking right away. You perch the hammer on your shoulder. “Otherwise, the chickens would take over.”

Mr. Bahr laughs. Unlike when he was meeting Director Sarah, his face is relaxed and open. His blue eyes sparkle. “We couldn’t have that now, could we? I suppose we all owe you our thanks for preventing the coop’s coup.”

You want to laugh. You don’t. “Director Sarah won’t like you being here uninvited.”

“I just came to drop off an invitation,” Mr. Bahr says. He studies you for a moment and then smiles. “I hope you’ll accept, Isla.”

A chill races down your spine. How does he know your name? You wipe the sweat from your brow with a scowl. “Maybe I don’t want to be adopted.”

To your surprise, Mr. Bahr nods. “I can understand that,” he says. He looks up at the sky. The light is sliding from the sky, catching on the clouds and turning them a brilliant orange. When he looks back at you, he almost looks…sad. “Think of our invitation as a party, hm? No strings attached.”

For some reason your tongue feels heavy. It takes two tries before you can say, “I need to fix this part of the fence before dark.”

“Want some help?” Mr. Bahr asks.

“I couldn’t ask—”

“You didn’t ask, I offered,” Mr. Bahr says. He rolls up his sleeves and nimbly plucks the hammer from your grip. “I may be a Knight, but I’ve done my fair share of carpentry. Let me show you a few tricks.”

You listen quietly as Mr. Bahr shows you how to twist the nails to avoid splitting the wood. What would have taken you an hour to finish, he accomplishes in a quarter of one, talking to you the entire time.

It’s…odd to have an adult’s attention on you for such a long time. He’s careful not to get too close, always offering you the hammer to practice by setting it on the grass between you rather than handing it to you directly. When you manage to replicate his technique on your second try, Mr. Bahr is more excited than you are.

“Wonderful,” he compliments. He glances up at the sky. The first stars are twinkling. “I’ll be going now and you should too. Have a good night, Isla.”

Unlike the first time he said your name, it feels pleasant now. You mutter a goodbye and leave before he does, scurrying towards the orphanage with your bucket of nails clutched to your chest.

He’s gone when you think to check the road for his carriage. Did he walk here? Ride a horse?

You close and lock the orphanage’s doors behind you.

----------------.

The picnic isn’t scheduled until the middle of summer and it’s spring now. Still, it’s all anyone can talk about.

“We have plenty of time to get ready,” Director Sarah tells them. “The Bahrs will be dropping in from time to time until then. I expect everyone to be on their best behavior when they’re here.”

Josiah raises his hand. “I hear they live in a castle!”

“A manor,” Sarah corrects. “Given to them by our Lord for their years of service.”

“The Guard in town says they worked for the King once!” Hera says, wiggling in her seat. “Is that true?”

“You can ask them yourself,” Sarah says. She claps her hands together and starts urging the kids up. “It’s time for chores. Your assignment is posted by the kitchen…”

You stay seated at the breakfast table. You haven’t eaten your third egg or your last slice of toast. Your stomach feels queasy. You keep thinking about Mr. Bahr saying wonderful when you worked on the fence together.

You aren’t supposed to want to be adopted. You’ve had your chance and you ruined it both times. It’s not fair of you to imagine what it would be like learning swordsmanship from Mr. Bahr and what it’d be like to hear him praise you when you got the next move right. One of the other kids deserve that chance.

You can only do what you can do.

---------------.

Mrs. Bahr is alone the next visit.

No one recognizes her at first. She’s wearing a gown like a noble and her hair is gently flowing down her back rather than tightly pinned behind her head.

“I’ve received the Director’s permission to hold a lesson on writing,” she tells the children. She gestures to the bag she’s set on the table. “Come get a slate and a piece of chalk. We will work all together.”

The kids have never had slate and chalk before, not the real ones anyway. Sometimes you find a nice, flat rock they can draw on with charcoal, but it’s not as entertaining as what Mrs. Bahr brings. She watches everyone in amusement as they immediately start drawing instead of starting the lesson, flower and trees and swords.

“Look, Isla,” Hera says, tugging at your sleeve. You’re seated on the spare chair by the wall, away from the table. She twists from her spot to show you she’s drawn a shaky stick figure. “It’s you!”

Your eyes flick up to Mrs. Bahr. She’s not irritated by the distractions yet. You point with your bit of chalk at the drawing. “Which part of it is me?”

Hera points at a blob in the stick figure’s hand. “That’s the horned rabbit you brought home yesterday!”

You snort. The horned rabbit you’d killed yesterday wasn’t half the size of your body. “Are you sure that’s a horned rabbit? Looks like a turtle to me.”

Hera points to the stick figure’s face. “You can also tell it’s you ‘cause you’re frowning.”

“Hey!”

Mrs. Bahr claps her hands together. Instantly, she has the room’s attention. “I’m glad you all like my present. However, it’s time to get started.”

“Present?” Josiah asks.

“If you work hard today, you will be allowed to keep the slate and chalk as a present,” Mrs. Bahr says. She takes care to make eye contact with every kid. “Only those who work hard.”

It’s generous. You watch Mrs. Bahr from under your lashes as she talks everyone through writing the alphabet. It’s too generous not to be genuine. Try as you might, you can’t figure out any ulterior motive to spending so much on the kids. To look good? For who? For Director Sarah?

Director Sarah won’t be swayed by gifts like this even if the kids could be.

Mrs. Bahr stops well away from you, observing your slate from afar. “Very good, Isla. Do you know how to write?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Read?”

“Only a little.”

Mrs. Bahr hums. She doesn’t look disgusted by your stupidity or put off by your clipped tone. Your first family returned you when you told them. Mrs. Bahr’s lips curve. “Your letters are wonderfully steady. I can tell you will be a very good student.”

She turns before she can see you flush.

---------.

Over the next few months, there isn’t a week that goes by without at least one of the Bahrs visiting. They become a regularity around the orphanage to the point that even Director Sarah stops worrying about the state of their rooms with every visit.

“Kids will be kids,” Mrs. Bahr says when you ask her to wait while you tidy the toys in the parlor. “It’s alright, Isla.”

Your head spins. Sometimes, when one of them says something particularly bizarre, you feel like you’re outside your body. There was a time when they didn’t have toys to leave out in the visiting area. Thanks to the Bahrs, every child has a doll, a slate, a new set of shoes, and an abacus. You are still waiting for the strings that come with these presents.

There haven’t been any yet.

The kids love the Bahrs. Hera insists on baking fresh strawberry tarts for them after a day of gathering. Josiah carefully sounds out passages from their new books to show them that he’s still practicing his letters. Annie and a group of the younger kids spend all day weaving a flower crown for Mrs. Bahr that you have to confiscate before they can put it on her head.

“Go wash your hands,” you scold. Despite your tone, your hands are gentle as you push Annie to the schoolhouse. “Don’t touch your eyes.”

Annie blinks rapidly, trying to hold back tears. “I didn’t know it was poison, lady, I swear.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Bahr says, hand fluttering over her heart. She steps towards Annie. “Dear one—”

You give full body flinch when Mrs. Bahr stoops to hug Annie, but you don’t get between them. The Bahrs have won your trust in this. They won’t hurt the kids.

You sigh to hide your flinch when Mrs. Bahr stands. “Now Mrs. Bahr needs to wash. Poison ivy is no joke.”

“It is not,” Mrs. Bahr agrees. She ruffles Annie’s hair. “Go on, do as Isla says. Wash up.”

“We can go together,” Annie says with her big, blue eyes. She reaches for Mrs. Bahr’s hand and then thinks better of it. She tucks her hands behind her back and kicks at the ground. “If you want.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” Mrs. Bahr says, smiling.

Annie nods and races to follow her friends.

“I’m sorry,” you say as soon as Annie is out of ear shot. You busy yourself picking up the fallen flower crown and the various trimmings of poison ivy they’d used for foliage throughout it. You feel flustered. “They really didn’t know any better—”

“I know,” Mrs. Bahr says so gently that you have to look up at her. She’s frowning at your hands. “I’m more concerned about you. Should you be holding onto it like that?’

“I’m immune,” you say. You’re not worried that she’ll guess your Destiny from that. Lots of Villagers are immune to poison ivy, particularly the ones in this region who rely on gathering and hunting. “Since I’m in the woods so much.”

“Knights are immune too,” Mrs. Bahr says. She follows you away from the orphanage and to the tree line. “You’re quite the hunter, aren’t you? I remember Hera saying you slayed a horned rabbit.”

Heat comes to your face. You stomp ahead of her to deposit the flower crown in some denser foliage where the kids won’t be able to get it. “I get lucky.”

“I’d consider it unlucky to run across a horned rabbit,” Mrs. Bahr says. She examines the forest with interest. “A demon is a demon. Even adults have difficulty with horned rabbits.”

It hadn’t been difficult. You’d been armed with a sharpened branch and, when the rabbit leapt for you, you knew right when to stab. You clear your throat. “It was difficult.” Then when Mrs. Bahr doesn’t say anything, you add, “It was frightening.”

She believes you. She lays a gentle hand on your shoulder to get you to look her in the face. “The orphanage budget is enough that you don’t need to hunt, Isla,” Mrs. Bahr says. “I know I don’t like the idea of a fourteen-year-old out here alone and unarmed.”

“Almost fifteen,” you say, “and I had a sharp stick.”

“A sharp sti—” Mrs. Bahr cuts herself off with a deep breath. “Regardless of your…aptitude, Isla, it’s dangerous. I’ve spoken to the Director and she agrees with me. You aren’t to go hunting anymore.”

The forest suddenly feels too hot. The leaves overhead rustle, but you can barely hear it over the roaring of your blood. “Excuse me?”

Mrs. Bahr steps closer. “You’re a very strong girl, Isla, but it’s dangerous. If you want to go out with me or Mr. Bahr—”

You shake off her hand. “The Director agreed with you? She said I’m not allowed to go hunting anymore?”

“Out of concern for your safety.” Mrs. Bahr looks like she regrets saying anything. “Once Mr. Bahr and I explained to her what a risk a horned rabbit poses—”

You run away. Mrs. Bahr calls out after you, but you don’t stop. Beyond the sting of Mr. and Mrs. Bahr not thinking you strong enough to hunt, there’s a deeper hurt. The Director agrees. Really? Really?

“Isla? What’s wrong? I thought you were with Mrs. Bahr,” Director Sarah says when you burst into her office. She sets the papers she’d been reading down and frowns. “You look—”

“I’m not supposed to go hunting anymore?” you ask.

Sarah’s face blooms in understanding. “After what Mr. and Mrs. Bahr said about the increase in demons in the area, I agreed—”

“It’s summer,” you interrupt. You stalk up to her desk, your fists balled at your side. “It’s time to hunt.”

“The Bahrs have agreed to accompany you—”

“They only come once a week,” you say. You’re being so incredibly rude to the Director, but you don’t care. “I need to hunt three times that at least. The game has been moving deeper into the forest—”

“Where you are not allowed to go,” Director Sarah says, this time interrupting you. She steeples her hands in front of her. “I should have curtailed this activity long before this point, but I thought you needed it.”

“We need it,” you say. You can’t believe what you are hearing. “We need to store up rations, you know that.”

“Our budget allows us to purchase rations in town.”

“But what if that’s not enough? It’s better to have our own supply—”

“It will be enough.”

“It still doesn’t hurt to have some extra jerky—”

“The store we have will be enough.”

“But what if it’s not?!” You’ve raised your voice without realizing it, fists shaking at your sides. “The other kids are too young to remember o-or too new, but you and I do. That winter, we didn’t have enough. Why are you trying to stop me?” To your horror, your voice cracks. “I thought you understood.”

There’s silence in the room except for your panting breath.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah finally says. The sudden apology is enough to close your mouth against what you might have said. She meets your eyes. “You’ve always been so strong that I…Isla, you were a child. I will always be grateful for what you did that winter and for every winter since. I relied on you, a child, because I didn’t have any other option. We didn’t have another option. But now we do. We’re okay now, Isla. You don’t have to work so hard to protect us.”

“Yes, I do, I’m—” the Hero “—I can do it.” There is something inside of you telling you that that is what you must do. You think that it’s part of being a Hero.

((You’re worried that it’s because you’re scared.))

“My decision is final,” Sarah says. She picks up her documents and straightens them. “You are only to go hunting with an adult from now on. If I find out you went to the woods without one, there will be consequences.”

She’s using the same tone she uses on the other kids when they’re misbehaving. I mean business. You stare at her for a long, breathless moment. You jerkily turn to go.

Mrs. Bahr is hovering in the doorway. She looks guiltily between you and Director Sarah. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop…”

You shove past her and run to your room.

-------------.

Somewhat counterintuitively, as an orphan you’re never alone. You throw yourself face down on your bed.

A shocked silence swallows the occupants on the other bed.

“Is she okay?” Josiah asks Hera.

“It’s Isla,” Hera answers. There’s the rustling of bedsheets as Hera climbs out of bed and then the soft sound of socks on hardwood as she comes over. “You okay?”

You are not okay. There’s an intense war of emotions in your chest. Anger that none of the adults seem to think you’re capable. Betrayal that Sarah isn’t on your side. A sick fear at the thought of being unprepared for winter. And, now that you’ve run away so spectacularly, shame. They probably think you’re overreacting, but they’re wrong. They’re the ones who are being naïve. They’re the ones who—

A gentle hand on the back of your head freezes the thought. Hera pets your short, black hairs in an attempt at comfort. “It’s okay, Isla. You can just sleep. Sleep makes everything better.”

That’s what you tell the younger kids. The difference between you and Hera saying it? When Hera falls asleep, you work to fix the problem. If you fall asleep, no one is going to fix the problem for you.

You flip over, dislodging Hera’s hand. You look up at her as if seeing her for the first time. She’s ten, two years older than you were when the winter happened. She was four then. You want to ask her if she remembers, but instead you ask, “Do you think Sarah hates me?”

“What?” Hera’s eyes are wide. “No! What makes you think that?”

“Nothing,” you say. “It’s stupid. Forget I asked.” You turn on your side, your back to them.

“I know she’s worried about you,” Josiah says. He offers the information tentatively. “I overheard her and the Bahrs talking. Did they ban you from the woods?”

You don’t move. “What else did they say?” You’re afraid that he’s going to say they called you weak. Or, worse, a nuisance. “Did they say anything else about me?”

“Not really.”

Nobody hears anything useful around here. You close your eyes. “I just want to be alone for a little while. I—”

There’s a knock on the door. “Isla? It’s me, Marie. Can I come in?”

Marie? Too late you remember that that’s Mrs. Bahr’s name. She’s been trying to get the kids to call her be her first name. So far no one’s taken her up on it and she hasn’t pushed.

Hera opens the door. “Hi, Mrs. Bahr. Isla is being moody.”

You sit up with a squawk. “I am not!”

“If it’s alright, I’d like to talk to Isla for a moment,” Mrs. Bahr says to Josiah and Hera. “Alone.”

“Don’t let her yell at you,” Hera says as she passes Mrs. Bahr. “She never means it.”

You are going to strangle her. “I don’t yell!”

“That’s not an inside voice,” Josiah says. He dodges the pillow you throw at him, pulling the door closed behind him and Hera.

You are suddenly alone in the room with Mrs. Bahr.

You sit up further, pressing your back against the headboard. Mrs. Bahr doesn’t look mad. Her hands are clasped in front of her and she’s looking down at the floor. It almost looks like she’s the nervous one. You hug your pillow to your chest. “You can sit down if you’d like.”

Mrs. Bahr looks up at you. Her lips twitch. “Thank you, Isla.” She sits down on Hera’s bed gingerly as if afraid it wouldn’t be able to take her wait. When she’s settled, she says, “I wanted to apologize to you.”

Your arms tighten around your pillow. “Why?”

“Not for saying you shouldn’t hunt alone,” Mrs. Bahr says. She’s not a mind reader but sometimes it seems like she is. “For not understanding what hunting means to you. I would have approached things differently if I’d known.”

“Known what?”

“About what you’ve been through.”

The winter. That’s the only thing Mrs. Bahr could be talking about. She must have heard more of your conversation (argument) with the Director than you thought. “It was a long time ago,” you say. You really don’t want to talk about this with Mrs. Bahr. Not when you can still feel that winter’s desperation in your molars like a memory. “I’m fine.”

Mrs. Bahr is quiet for a moment. She studies you much like Mr. Bahr did all those weeks ago mending the fence. “I was a knight for 30 years, you know. I supposed it’s not weird that a Knight worked as a knight for so long. As soon as I came into my power at 15, I was compelled to hold a sword. To seek out evils and defeat them. To follow my Lord into battle no matter the cause.” She looks up at the ceiling. “I’ve had a lot of adventures and helped many, many people. But there was a time when I wanted to quit.”

You start. “You did?”

“I wanted to work in a flower shop,” Mrs. Bahr says. She leans back on her hands. “What a life it could have been! Waking up before the sun and hiking to the flower fields…I had my new house all picked out. It’d have a koi pond and a row of red rocks from the Harrow River. That’s where I met Ivan.”

Mr. Bahr. He’s been trying to get you to call him by his first name too. Unlike Mrs. Bahr, he’s much pushier about it. “What made you want to quit?”

“Exhaustion,” Mrs. Bahr says. She closes her eyes. “It seemed that there was a new threat to my Lord every day. An assassination attempt from a branch family. A territorial dispute. A new influx of demon beasts. It got to the point that I hardly left my Lord’s side for fear of returning to find him dead. He was the first Lord I swore my loyalty to. I always felt like I was failing those days. So I wanted to quit.”

You’ve felt like that before. Sometimes it seems like you never catch enough while hunting, that you’re never kind enough, that you’re never strong enough. You’ve never thought about working in a flower shop though. “Why didn’t you?”

“I did.” Mrs. Bahr laughs at your shocked expression. “I was in my twenties. They tell you things calm down after your teen years, but that’s not true. I handed in my resignation and fled for the nearest town.” Her smile softens. “Ivan followed me.”

“He was there?”

Mrs. Bahr nods. “We were sworn to the same Lord. He came galloping up with my resignation clutched in his hand. His face was so red!” She laughs. “’What does this mean, Marie? He was crying! You can’t quit! I haven’t beaten you yet!’”

“And that’s what convinced you to stay a knight?” you ask. That doesn’t help you. You don’t have a significant other to come racing after you.

“No,” Mrs. Bahr said. “Ivan didn’t know why I wanted to quit. I can’t do it, I said. I can’t keep the Lord safe. I’m not enough. You know what he said?”

You shake your head.

“He said, Of course, you’re not enough,” Mrs. Bahr says. She’s lowering her voice in imitation of Ivan’s. “You were never going to be enough.” You’re gaping at his harsh words, but Mrs. Bahr looks amused. “That’s why we have a squadron. The job is too big for one person. All you need to do is your part.”

You stare at her, not understanding.

“The world isn’t carried by one person,” Mrs. Bahr says. “I was so convinced that everything was up to me – the Lord’s safety, the next campaign’s success, or defense from monsters – that I buckled under the pressure. What I didn’t see that it wasn’t all my responsibility. I was part of a team. All I had to do was one part.”

You think of the winter night and holding the door shut. There hadn’t been anyone to help you then. Someone needed to comfort the younger kids. Someone needed to try and protect them. “What if there isn’t anyone else?”

“Then we do our best,” Mrs. Bahr says immediately. She meets your eyes. “But are you by yourself now, Isla?”

Yes. You open your mouth to tell her that, but the word won’t come out. Are you? Director Sarah looked so defeated when you accused her of not understanding. But didn’t she understand better than anyone else. You swallow. “No. There’s Director Sarah.”

“What does she do?”

“She takes care of us,” you say. “She makes sure the money we get goes to the right things.”

Mrs. Bahr smiles warmly. “That’s right. Who else?”

“…Hera,” you say. You remember she pulled Josiah from the well before Annie even had the chance to tell you what had happened. “She watches the younger kids.”

“She’s very good with them,” Mrs. Bahr says. “Who else?”

Your mind blanks. Who else? “Josiah. He helps us study.”

“And?”

And? “T-the Lord. He makes sure we have the funds for what we need.”

“Including winter provisions,” Mrs. Bahr agrees.

You frown. You suddenly see where this is going. “The amount of winter provisions he thinks we need.”

Mrs. Bahr hums. “What happens if he’s wrong?”

“That’s why I hunt,” you say. Maybe now she’ll understand. “So that we’ll be okay if he’s wrong.”

“What if you don’t hunt enough?” Mrs. Bahr asks.

Your chest is tight. You rub at your sternum and try to breathe deeply. “We starve,” you say. You wheeze and then clear your throat. “We’d starve, but that’s not going to happen. Because I always hunt enough.” I have to.

“This year,” Mrs. Bahr says, voice gentle and soothing, “say you don’t hunt anymore. The winter is harsher than expected and the orphanage’s stores are depleted. What do you think will happen?”

You laugh and gasp at the same time. “They’d all starve,” you say again. What doesn’t she get about that? “First the little ones then—”

Mrs. Bahr is shaking her head. “No, Isla, that’s not what would happen.”

Your temper flares. “That’s what always—”

“What would happen,” Mrs. Bahr says in her even tone, “is that Mr. Bahr and I would come deliver extra provisions to you.”

All the air is chased from your lungs. You feel eight again, small and vulnerable and cold. You’re shivering as you stare at her. “You would?”

“We would.” Gently, as if afraid she might scare you, Mrs. Bahr moves from Hera’s bed to yours. She puts a warm hand on your knee. “We’re a fortress. The Lord gives us part of the emergency fund in order to keep our stores and grounds ready for refugees. Mr. Bahr keeps fifteen percent more than the most generous estimate out of an abundance of caution. We would come and make sure nobody starved.”

For some reason, that makes you want to cry. You blink against the sudden heat behind your eyes. “Oh.”

“That’s why we don’t want you to go hunting,” Mrs. Bahr says. Her thumb rubs over your knee. “It was worth the risk before. You worked hard to keep everyone here alive. You are incredible, for that, Isla. I can’t tell you how much I admire your strength and your bravery. But things are different now. You don’t need to do as much as you did before. There are other people on your squad.”

But I’m the Hero, you want to say. Heroes are supposed to save the day, aren’t they?

Knights help save the day too.

You let Mrs. Bahr pat your knee for a long time. She seems content to let you think, her energy a pleasant hum next to you. A knot is untying in your chest. If you don’t hunt, it’s not the end of everyone. There will still be the funds from the Lord. Sarah’s always been excellent at stretching those as far as they need to go. And, if they aren’t enough, there’s something different this year. The Bahrs are here.

“You’d help us even if you’re only going to adopt one of us?” you ask.

Mrs. Bahr’s lips thin. She looks sad, but hides it quickly. “We’re Knights,” she says. “Even if we are retired. We’ll be here the moment you need us.”

You don’t hope. Hope is traumatic. But…

You believe her.

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(Part 2) (part 3)

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Thanks for reading! There will be a new part of Hope and the Hero every Friday!

If you'd like to read the whole story now, please consider supporting me on Patreon (X)!

There's also a new story up there, a sequel to my Dandelion villain story (X)

Summary: You are free of mind control for the first time in a year. The only things standing between you and your revenge are the heroes.

[rin-may-1103]

Badger Day Au (part two)

Previous | Master Post | Next

"Fourteen?" Aquaman repeats, turning his chair to face Danny. "Fourteen what? Days, weeks, months?"

Flash hissed like he was in pain, "Please don't say it's been fourteen months!"

Danny trailed his eyes away from the ceiling, away from the bothersome crack, and toward the single window in the room. He could just barely make out the Cassiopeia constellation. Its distinct W shape winked and flickered, drawing up a memory from a few loops into this whole mess. Tucker had wanted to comfort him, seeing as Danny had just broken down crying over how frustrated he was with everything.

The Ghost of Cassiopeia. Also known as IC 63, about 550 light years away.

A giant cloud of dust and gas. A nebula. Its ethereal glow reminded people of spirits they would see in haunted houses or fields. So they called it the ghost of Cassiopeia.

But it wasn't a ghost, it's simply hydrogen that's been bombarded with ultraviolet radiation from the nearby star. A blue giant called Gamma Cassiopeiae. It's also known as the center of the constellation. The light from the blue giant makes the majority of the nebula glow a vivid red. The blue around the edges is just light reflected off the dust within.

Tucker had joked that Danny should try and see how far he could get before the loop restarted. See if he could even get past Jupiter. Danny had just snorted and brushed his suggestion off. What was the point when he should be spending his time trying to fix the loop?

About six years in, Danny had given up and tried.

Eight months he had spent flying. He got further and further out into the void, surrounded by darkness and the beautiful stars in the distance to guide him. He never managed to make it past Pluto before he was brought back.

"Years," Danny confessed, his eyes still trained on the faraway stars.

"YEARS!?!" Superman cried, standing up so fast his chair was sent flying into the wall. Danny glanced back up at the crack, watching as it grew just a little larger, plaster dust sprinkling down like freshly fallen snow.

Sighing, Danny sat up and stared at the group. How many times has he had this conversation? How many times was he going to explain what was happening? How many times was he going to wake up in his bed just to restart all over again?

"Years," Danny repeated, "Fourteen years. Like I said, I've tried everything."

They sat in silence for a moment, just digesting his situation. Batman was standing still, his fists clenched tightly. Superman looked faint like he would pass out. Flash looked devastated.

Wonder Woman leaned forward, her brows furled in confusion, "Were you cursed, young one?"

"No, I checked. You checked. Heck, even Zatanna and Constantine have checked. I'm not cursed." Danny grumbled, slumping down to rest his head on the table.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to just curl up and sleep for the next however long. Wanted to hug Jazz and cry about how unfair it all was. Wanted to curl into his mother's side and cling until she made it all better. Hide behind his father until he knew it was safe.

but he couldn't.

Something always happened when he tried. If he stayed home from the very beginning of the day, the league would call him over and over again, convinced he was needed for the case Batman had. They even sent Flash over a few times just to search the city to drag him to the meeting.

(He was happy they hadn't figured out his civilian identity yet, but man was it hard to watch as Flash stuck his face into every nook and cranny around town yelling his name. Danny's lost count of how many times the man got overshadowed.)

If he managed to convince them that he was in a loop, then they found it would be safer for him to stay up on the watchtower. where they could keep an eye on him while searching for a way to break it.

Or, if he managed to convince them he was sick or something and they left him alone, Vlad would start acting up. Jack would call him on the phone to cancel Maddie's meeting with him because Danny was 'sick'. If he convinces Maddie to go and stay home with his dad, then Jack somehow opens the portal long enough for one of his rogues to slip through.

It just never ends. Everything he's tried ends with him having to go ghost and fight. The calmest day he's managed to have ended with Box ghost blasting the portal doors open so he could give him a homemade lunch from his wife, which then led the ghost to find Jack's new weapon box and go ballistic because of his obsession.

after that, he gave up spending time with his parents and focused more on his friends and Jazz. This was equally disastrous.

so, his safest option was to go to the meeting and stay with the league.

Glancing up, Danny watched as the time slowly changed on the clock; six twenty-nine, tick, tick, tick, six thirty.

Sighing, Danny sat up and held his hand out, making eye contact with Batman. He might as well get the day going, no use in wallowing in self-pity. He's done that plenty already.

"I already figured out what the cult wanted to do, we just need to figure out where their next meeting is. I'll fill you guys in on the rest." Danny added, wiggling his fingers in the hope it would make Batman move faster.

Batman sighed and handed him the folder. Once Danny had the folder, Batman sat down to listen to his report intently.

Flipping the file open, Danny grabbed the first page and showed it to the group, ignoring how a copy showed up on the big screen behind Batman. (again, why use paper if he was just going to project it?)

"This is the result of the cult's last meeting, two weeks ago. as you can see, the ground has been scorched and the ritual circle permanently carved into the cement." Tossing the paper and ignoring it as Flash scrambled to catch it, Danny grabbed the next couple of pages.

Holding up the seventy missing person reports, Danny placed them on the table and separated them into four different piles. "After some digging, Batman was able to figure out the pattern between the missing people. This group," Danny pointed to the one on the left, "consists of organ donors who were anemic."

pointing to the pile on the right, Danny continued, "This group is made up of meta-humans who have powers related to the elements. they also all happen to have more than one piercing, though Batman didn't really figure out if that had an impact on whether they were chosen or not..."

Pointing to the northern pile, Danny separated the top seven pages. "while everyone in this pile has some relation to an ancient and powerful witch from the 1500s, these seven are the only ones who still share her 'family' name. I'm not sure exactly how this affects the cult's motives, Batman hadn't shared that with me in all the loops so far."

Danny glared at Batman in annoyance, he didn't care if there was a good reason or not. Without fail, in each loop that Danny's made it through where Batman makes the connection; he would refuse to tell Danny about it.

Rolling his eyes at Batman's unwavering apathy, Danny continued, "The last pile consists of people who have been dead at some point in their lives. whether it be just a few seconds or a few weeks."

passing the reports around, Danny pulled the next page from the file. "Flash and Constantine were able to connect the past locations of the cult gatherings. Constantine figured out there was a specific magic signature that he could follow, so he had Flash drag him around the world to map the locations."

tapping the table, Danny selected the world map. Glancing at the paper he had pulled out, Danny marked the places with a red dot. Then he marked the places Constantine found in blue. Looking up, Danny found the league staring at him.

"What?" Danny huffed, shoving the hologram away from him. Batman grabbed it and started to examine it.

"So, do we need Constantine for this?" Green Lantern asks, scratching his head.

Shrugging, Danny tossed the folder over to Wonder Woman. "You can call him if you want, but he won't get here until noon. He's in the house of mystery dealing with a pixie infestation."

"pixie infestation?" Superman asks, turning to look over to Zatanna. Zatanna reached into her jacket and handed him a pamphlet, not turning away from watching Danny with curious eyes.

"Anyway, like I was saying. the cult's been going around taking all these people and using them in their rituals."

"you said you knew what they were trying to do, what was it?" Batman asked with a noticeable frown.

Sighing, Danny pinched his nose. "they've been trying to summon Pariah Dark."

"The ghost king!?!?" Zatanna squawked, slamming her hands onto the table.

"yeah, that bastard," Danny grumbled, rubbing his face. The cult hadn't been successful for all fourteen years now, so Danny wasn't too worried about it. But still... If something, anything really, changed just the slightest; would they succeed? Would they drag Prariah out of his sarcophagus and let him lose on the living?

Danny's already had to face him once, he didn't know if he could do it again. The Fenton ecto-skeleton suit had been ruined last time, to the point dad hadn't even tried to fix it.

"Bastard?" Aquaman repeated, eyes narrowed, "You speak as if you've met him before."

"I have," Danny admitted, "and I will again if we don't do something about the cult." What if this is the loop the cult succeeded? what if it's the next one, or the one after that? could Danny even do anything to prevent it?

Zatara sat down with a heavy thump, her eyes widening in shock. Danny lifted his brow, wondering what was wrong with her. She hadn't acted like this any other time? what was different? had he said something he hadn't last time? hmm, something to think about later.

"back to the case," Danny shrugged, turning to gesture at the hologram of the world. "we were able to narrow down the cult's next location to about seven hundred places. I was able to check off about six hundred and thirty these last few loops. That leaves about seventy places they could be."

Danny used a yellow dot to select the seventy places he still needed to check.

"um," Flash started, nervously glancing between Danny and the globe. "you just highlighted the whole grand cannon and all of Alaska... and the Himalayas.... and the-"

"Yep," Danny cut in, "Like I said, I checked off all the others. These are the last seventy I still need to check. I haven't before because it's a lot of ground to cover. I was hoping I'd catch a break and find the cult before I had to check all those places, but nope. The fruitloops just had to make it difficult.

"oh," Flash winced, "do, do you want me to check them out?"

sighing, Danny leaned back in his chair, "I would love to have you check them out, but you need a magic user who knows what they're looking for to go with you. it's why we haven't found them yet, it's taking forever."

"Oh," was the only response he got.

"you know what we are looking for?" Zatara asks, finally getting over whatever had surprised her.

"yeah, it's hard to explain. I'll have to bring you or the others to a previous place and show you."

"hmm, alright. after the meeting, why don't you bring me so that at least one more person can help start looking, until, john is freed up at noon?" she suggests, tilting her head to the side.

"sounds good with me," Danny shrugged. it's not like it'll hurt to have her looking around, heck, they might even get lucky and she'll find them.

Next

[fluoneia]

violet is used to losing people that are close to her.

her family, her childhood, her sister. hell, she didn’t even have any friends at this point.

she lost everyone except for you.

the reunion between you guys was sweet when she found you after caitlyn released her from stillwater. she was your bestfriend, and that never changed, even after all these years.

truth be told, you had a crush on her since you two were all but fourteen. your love and devotion toward vi never wavered, always believing she was somewhere out there.

it still hadn’t wavered when you knew she didn’t feel the same way as you. and it still didn’t waver as she talked to you about caitlyn, the enforcer who brought her back to you.

you were there to give her advice about caitlyn. about rebuilding a love life after years of isolation. a true friend, she would call you, and despite the pain in your chest you nod and give her a smile.

you watched from a distance as the feelings between vi and caitlyn flourished. you wished nothing but for that to be you, for vi to see you like how she sees caitlyn.

you watched as their relationship grew. became more. and damn did it fucking hurt.

and you watched as it crumbled as soon as it came to be. she gave you an excited look after caitlyn and vi’s first kiss. you were her cheerleader. truly, all you wanted was for vi to be happy. and she was, by the looks of it.

but after the attack on jinx, caitlyn abandoned her as quickly as caitlyn’s words of ‘i won’t’ left her lips.

you stare in awe and utter shock as vi cries on her knees. her hands clutch at her stomach, and she’s a sputtering mess as she begs for caitlyn not to leave.

as you watch caitlyn leave, the second she’s out of your eyesight you’re rushing to vi.

“violet?” you say, hands cupping her face, “vi, shh, shh..” you whisper, running a finger over her face. she looks up at you, tears streaming down her face, clouding her vision.

but then, you’re pushed off of her.

“get off me!” she yells, pushing you back. you yelp as you thud on the floor.

and your heart breaks. her hand clutches her chest, before ripping off the blue armour around her. she’s heaving.

you don’t have the words to speak. and you realise, you can’t comfort her anymore. she doesn’t want your comfort.

“violet..” you would whisper, just barely over her softened cries. but, they’re nothing to her ears.

she wants nothing to do with me anymore, your head screams.

so, you stand. you peer down at vi, in utter shambles, all the racked up feeling from her past spilling out at once.

you drop your hextexh weapon. you joined the enforcers to help vi make it seem less awkward for her, for another zaunite, for a familiar face beside her.

but it was all for nothing.

and then, you turn away.

“wai.. wait..” vi’s voice is heard behind you. “where are you going?”

and you still.

“you don’t need me anymore, violet.” you shake your head.

“no.. no, no, i can’t lose you too. y/n.” she exasperates.

“back when we were kids, we were inseparable. but.. you’ve changed. i’ve changed. you’ve.. you’ve grown out of me.”

“please. not you too, please.” she cries.

she grabs your wrist as you take a step.

“don’t leave me.”

and you feel a shock through your chest. you turn back to look at her, and it’s like all the composure in your body deteriorates.

“you’re wrong.” she says. “you’re wrong, i need you. i haven’t grown out of you, just, please.. don’t leave me, too.”

and she hauls herself onto you. she’s hugging you, grabbing onto you for dear life, head pressed against your stomach.

slowly, you let your arms fall around her. “i won’t leave you.” you whisper. “i promise.”

[lisa-cuddys]

There is the dark end of the world cloud above London, a God of Death threatening to annihilate everything and everyone, the TARDIS is possessed by a giant dog, there is chaos all over the place, neither UNIT, nor Fifteen have any idea how to deal with this. Meanwhile Fourteen and Donna, in Spain, scuba diving, relaxed and completely unaware of yet another apocalypse happening in London:

[hornedmonsters]

"A'thaen" Yautja Oc x Reader - Mate - nsfw

Warnings: nsfw, size difference, dead animals, yautja seeks a partner, exophilia, teratophilia, monster x human, alien sex, slow burn, sex in water, sex outdoors, blood play, breeding - English is not my native language!

Synopsis: You used to live in a small house near a forest. But one day you sensed something, someone was watching you and brought you gifts. A strange creature that could kill you with sheer force and he was looking for a mate for life.

Words: 8k

German Version

You never worried about whether it was safe to live alone in an old house near the forest. The nearest big town was a good half hour away from you and it was rare for people to pass by. The letter carrier, maybe, but very rarely. Not even tourists or hikers were to be seen here. The nature around you was rough and a bear liked to sneak around the river near you. It was dangerous, especially in the salmon season, but you respected nature and its fauna and stuck to the rules:

Stay on the path.

Stay out of the way of mother animals.

Never get between predator and prey.

Make noises so that you are not suddenly confronted without warning.

And most importantly. Never travel in the dark without weapons. You had a weapon but never used it, you wanted to avoid it because you didn't see weapons as a positive thing. They only caused death and destruction and people had become dangerous beings through war and hatred. One of the reasons you lived out here.

You stared out of the window. Dark clouds were moving across the sky, it was definitely going to rain soon and somehow you were looking forward to it. You loved rain, it calmed you down and you always took one of your many books and made yourself comfortable on your sofa. Enjoying the peace and quiet, listening to the patter of the rain while the wind whistled outside and the trees gave way awkwardly under the force of the wind and the rain.

You flinched when you suddenly heard wolves howling in the distance. Puzzled, you looked up. Normally wolves had little desire to be active in this weather, at least that's what you thought, but you could hear how restless the otherwise brave predators were. You sat so still on your sofa, as if a murderer was going to jump in at any moment and you were trying not to attract attention because of the silence.

It was only seconds before an agonizing, screaming squeak made you tremble. It sounded like a wolf, but its wail was so high-pitched that it almost sounded like a child in agonizing pain. You swallowed. Your heart pounded and fear rose up inside you. What was out there?

The next scream made you flinch even more, but it didn't stop at two. A pack consisted of five to fourteen members. Alpha animals, kittens, puppies. Everything was there, sometimes even the grandparents were still there if they had a good chance of living. You knew the pack. You affectionately called them the River pack, because the wolves always stayed close to the river and had their territory there. The river was about five hundred meters from your home and you could clearly hear one wolf after another going silent. It made your blood run cold.

Something strange was going on out there. What kind of predator would kill an entire pack of at least seven animals just like that? There were seven of the Riverwolves at your last count. It was a comfortable pack size and you enjoyed watching them with your binoculars. A bear perhaps? But did bears ever attack a whole pack of wolves?

Out of paranoia you checked the door again, fine, it was locked. There was another door, it led into a small stable of sorts. But there was nothing in it, you had emptied it out and used it as a kind of lair as you had no animals. You no longer felt like reading, so you got ready for bed and went to sleep. Even though your pulse was still beating strongly against your skin.

It took a while for you to fall asleep, but when sleep pulled you in, it was deep and firm. You woke up refreshed and got out of bed. Your breakfast consisted only of an apple, as you were rarely hungry after getting up. You packed your bag and went out the door. You wanted to go for a walk, even though you were still feeling the effects of last night. But it always smelled so good after it had rained. Especially in the forest.

You hummed to yourself and went on your daily walk. You knew this route inside out, since you've lived here, you've always walked it as best you could. It led you past berry bushes where you had tasted some of the sweet fruits and every now and then you could spot a deer.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice how you were being watched. But how could you? The creature was invisible and hiding in one of the trees, staring at you like a vulture that had found new carrion. The creature followed you for a few meters and watched your every move. Almost curiously.

Your legs carried you unintentionally to the river, you wanted to see the area. Maybe you could find out what had killed the wolves, but it was as if nothing had ever happened. No blood, no cadavar, nothing! Someone had done a thorough job and you were beginning to fear that it might be poachers who were up to mischief here. You didn't see the danger coming, but He did.

A crack in the bush sent shivers down your spine and you turned cautiously. A large grizzly stepped out of the undergrowth. Its heavy panting made you gulp and you walked slowly backwards until you could feel the gravel under your shoes. Behind you was the riverbed and you considered jumping in, but at the same time you were worried that it might trigger the bear in front of you. Today was definitely not your day.

“Take it easy,” you whispered and tried to breathe calmly. But the bear in front of you stomped up, a growl came from its throat and then the male animal reared up in front of you in all its glory. Your eyes grew wide and your instincts kicked in, you ran. The bear's roar still in your ears, he was so close and tears welled up in your eyes. What had you done to deserve this now? What had you done wrong?

You really thought you were going to die, the thought of bears eating their prey alive and not bothering to kill them beforehand made your stomach churn. Your lungs burned and a root became your doom. You hadn't seen it and painfully you tripped over it and fell into the shallow water. You groaned as the stones tore open your knees and the bear's heavy gallops came closer. You were about to scramble to your feet just as the beast's huge jaws shot towards you. But things turned out differently than you had expected.

The grizzly was pushed aside with full force, but you couldn't see anyone. Even the bear seemed confused, but it sensed something. Now it was even angrier and another roar came from its mouth. He ran towards a place where there was no one, but it seemed different. The bear actually grabbed someone, but your eyes couldn't see him. For the time being. But then outlines flashed, they were hard to make out, they glowed, then they showed some skin. Dark skin, lizard-like. Confused and disturbed, you drew your brows together and watched the spectacle.

The bear didn't stand a chance, even though he put up a brave fight. He took blow after blow, but then he bit down when his half-invisible opponent briefly lost focus. Green liquid flowed out of the bear's mouth and it turned back in your direction. But before anything could happen to you, the bear howled. Its throat was severed with a smooth cut.

A strangled cry escaped your throat as the invisible creature lifted the lifeless body, which weighed a good three hundred kilos. Then it revealed itself. Its skin became clearer and you gulped as you looked at the large alien-like creature before you. Drenched in the blood of its victim. Under the red you could see obsidian skin, he was wearing a mask and you forgot to breathe. Would he kill you now too? Had he saved you?

“Thank you,” you breathed, not noticing the tears running down your cheeks as the adrenaline slowly wore off and you were safe for now. The alien tilted its head slightly and a clicking sound came from its mouth. You felt uncomfortable under his probing gaze. Then he threw the bear over his shoulder and left. You quickly got up and watched him go. He simply disappeared into the forest and left you alone. You held your hand to your chest and a weeping sigh escaped from your dry throat. You ran home as fast as you could. You had definitely had enough of today.

You avoided the forest for the next few days, you had little desire to get into a situation like that again, besides there was this creature you didn't know what it was. You tried to put things behind you, it hadn't returned and the bad weather outside made you sit in your cozy home and read your books again. You drank tea and tried not to think about that day anymore.

If he/she had wanted to kill you, he/she would have done it long ago. You sighed and put some more wood in your fireplace. Despite the heat, you were shivering and not even the raindrops on your window could calm down. Just when you thought you were at peace, there was a bang outside. Someone had knocked over your garbage cans, or something. You took a deep breath and stood up. Your feet carried you towards the door, your mind racing, wondering if you were doing the right thing and if you were about to die.

Your fingertips touched the knob and you cautiously opened the back door. You couldn't react at all when a heavy weight slammed against the wood and you landed on the floor with a yelp. A dull thud beside you. Your eyes widened after you rubbed your bottom painfully. There it was! Next to you, its dark skin covered in a green. Liquid that had to be his blood.

As if struck by lightning, you got up and examined the creature in front of you. It still had its helmet on, but a large notch adorned the metal. That wasn't there last time. A clicking sound drew you out of your spell. Your eyes scrutinized him critically. His breathing was heavy and he seemed to be injured. Should you really be helping him? But he had helped you too. You sigh.

You slowly walked towards him. A growl came from his throat and you flinched, raising your hands.

I don't want to hurt you, you whispered, and his helmet turned more in your direction. He was watching you intently, you felt it and it made you nervous.

“Let me help you,” you spoke slowly, hoping he understood. Another click, he seemed to be thinking. But then came a nod and carefully you moved closer to him.

“You have to take it off,” you whispered, looking at his helmet. The creature hesitated and only now did you see how tall it actually was. It had to be well over two meters. No wonder he could slay a bear with his bare claws.

He didn't even try to struggle to his feet as he almost grabbed the helmet. You heard a few clicks as if something was opening on the helmet and slowly it let go. You held your breath as you slowly saw what was hiding under the mask.

A large head, four fangs that could fold out, it reminded you of a spider and you shivered, silver eyes staring at you. It seemed almost amused when the creature noticed you staring at it, it had probably already expected such a reaction. But you remain calm.

You quickly fetch your first aid kit and get out the essentials. A bowl of warm water, thread and needle, everything was ready. You carefully started to wipe the blood off his smooth scales. You couldn't describe how it felt. He was neither cold nor warm, his obsidian black skin was dull and spikes grew out in places. He had long dreadlocks with blood red beads woven into them and his small silver eyes watched you intently. His muscles were firm and sinewy, it almost felt like he had metal plates underneath, but it was just his pure strength and he looked really strong. Big and powerful. You gulped.

His looks made you uneasy and you didn't know exactly what it was. Countless faded scars adorned his body, he must have fought a lot in his life. But one scar caught your eye the most. It was a large, elongated scar on his chest, it hadn't been a clean cut, it looked more like someone had tried to rip something out of his chest. You couldn't just survive something like that.

“Scared?” the creature suddenly croaked and you stiffened. It could talk?! You tried to stay cool and took a quick breath.

“No,” you said firmly and stared into his eyes, not wanting to appear weak. The next wound was on his chest and you gently stroked the rough flesh. He purred, but it didn't sound painful, more soothing… like he was… enjoying it. You tried to concentrate, but his mere presence made you fuzzy and the feel of his muscles under his skin made you weak. You gritted your teeth. Stop it, (y/n)! He's an alien, dammit!

“You like… what you… See?” he asked brokenly and you ignored the glow in your cheeks. He was toying with you, you saw the amusement in his eyes. His ego was bigger than he was and really, you should have kicked him out.

You didn't answer him, but started stitching up his wounds. His eyes were half closed and he was watching you with a predatory look. Under your hands you could feel how tense he was. He was still in flight mode and ready to kill at any moment.

“Why are you hurt?” you asked now and he clicked again.

“Fight,” he breathed deeply.

“What were you fighting? You defeated the bear with ease and there's nothing bigger out there,” he had remained silent and just continued to stare at you. You tensed up and now your eyes found his.

“There isn't anything bigger out there, is there?” you almost panicked. He snorted in exhaustion, but there was ambition in his eyes.

“Yes…, but…dead,” he growled, making a few more chirping sounds, ”I… have…killed.” That was the last thing he said before his eyes closed and he was gone. His body was apparently close to the limit and he must have really put a lot of strength into the fight. You looked at his wounds again, in peace. Now that he was asleep. He was really lucky they didn't go any deeper. He must really be an experienced fighter, what creature would mess with him?

You shook your head and washed your hands. Then you grabbed a pillow and a blanket and put his head on the pillow, then you put the blanket over him, even though he was way too big for it. But it was better than nothing.

What did you get yourself into?

The big robber slept until the next day. You got up, but he was no longer lying on the floor where he had last fallen asleep. Somehow you weren't surprised that he had left. He had no reason to stay. But at least he had tidied up the blanket and pillow. You sighed and put the first aid kit back in its place, but a rumble made you sit up. It came from outside your front door.

Astonished but curious, you opened the door only to see, with a stifled scream, a large grizzly skull lying on your porch. There was no flesh left on the bone and it had been thoroughly cleaned. You had a feeling that it was the grizzly that had attacked you a few days ago.

Hesitantly you picked up the skull, you had a slight idea who it could be from. But why did he give you a skull? You placed the skull on the ledge of your fireplace and looked at it. It made you tremble as you remembered how those teeth wanted to dig into your flesh.

It didn't stop with the skull. Every day… really every day, there was something on your doorstep. Skulls, whole animals that you could skin and jewelry made of bones and beautiful stones. You now had a whole ration of game meat and you barely had any room left in the freezer. You displayed the skulls on your fireplace. Wolves, foxes, birds, it was all there. There was even a cougar skull by the door, but there was one thing you liked best from the unusual gifts.

It was a necklace made of predator teeth with a beautiful red gemstone in the middle. You wondered where he had found it. There must have been gemstones out there somewhere, but it must have taken a lot of effort to find one. But you asked yourself one question every single day. Why? Why did this giant give you gifts and bring you food? He had no reason to, or was it his way of saying 'thank you' because you had helped him?

Then you investigated, you grabbed your laptop and went looking. As silly as it sounded, you typed in 'what animals give each other gifts' and read through a post. There are indeed animal species that give each other gifts to impress the female: birds, fish and even insects did it. Apart from that, chimpanzees did something similar. For meat and fruit, the females slept with the males and you swallowed. Was he trying to impress himself? As if that at the river when he lifted the bear wasn't impressive enough.

Shaking your head, you closed your laptop. You didn't believe this alien wanted anything from you, if only because you were human. It was almost ridiculous. You laughed, apart from the fact that he was an alien? A big, strange creature that could kill you with ease.

There was something else on the floor of your porch that day that gave you pause. It was… Flowers. The most beautiful you'd ever seen. You sat by the river and looked intently at the small bouquet of wildflowers. No one had ever given you a gift like this before and you didn't want to admit it, but it made you happy somehow and sent a pleasant tingle through your body.

“You… find beautiful?” the deep, robotic voice made you freeze and you gulped. He was here, only maybe a meter away from your weak form sitting on the floor. Slowly, you turned your head and there he stood. As if he hadn't been almost dead in your house recently.

“j..yeah…they're really pretty,” you said almost shyly and a slight smile crept onto your lips. He nodded and continued to look at you through the small eyes in his mask.

“Thank you,” he clicked, apparently he had acknowledged it with that. You thought about asking him why he gave you the gifts, your heart pounded and you hesitated.

“Why are you giving me so many presents?” You nervously played with the stems of the flowers and waited for the answer. Inwardly, you hoped that he would simply say that he did it because you helped him. But it didn't turn out as you expected.

“Gifts… for… partners,” he grunts and your eyes widen. You felt like you were about to faint, your heart was beating against your chest and it almost hurt. At the same time, your cheeks burned and you blushed. He saw you as a suitable partner?

“Courting… you,” came out of his mouth next.

“I don't think I'm a suitable partner for you. I'm a human and you're an-” you thought about what you could say because you felt ‘alien’ would be rude.

“Yautja,” he finished your sentence and you raised your eyebrows.

“Your kind call themselves Yautja?” he nodded.

“What are you doing here? Are you just here to find a mate?” you followed up and he shook his head. Then he pointed at himself with a claw.

“Going hunting… Xenomorph. But I sensed… suitable partner is… here,” he tried to explain. You could hear how hard it was for him to speak in your language, considering his speech consisted only of clicking noises and growls.

“I see,” you laughed, ‘I don't even know your name,’ his head cocked to the side, watching your lips curl. The sound coming from your mouth was foreign to him, but he thought it sounded pleasant. No Yautja female made such beautiful sounds. His instincts had not been wrong.

“A'thaen,” he growled, ”my name…, A'thaen.”

“That's a really… nice name. My name is (Y/n),” you introduced yourself and then the Yautja went down on his knees. He was still huge in front of you, but now you could look at him a little better without having to contort your neck completely.

“My instincts… led me… here. To you,” then he moved his claws and took off his mask. You were surprised by this, because he seemed to take this mask for hunting and it seemed really important to him.

“Become… my… Partner. I am… good, experienced hunter. Can… protect and… Provide,” he almost cooed and it made you blush how he was trying to woo you. But you weren't sure, you couldn't speak his language, nor did you know anything about his culture.

“I'm not sure. I don't know you at all and a few days ago I thought you were going to kill me,” you swallowed and you expected A'thaen to get angry, but he nodded again.

“Ki'sei,” he said and you didn't understand what he had said. But you were amazed that he seemed to have a language with words after all, not just clicking sounds. He saw the look on your face and was amused. “I… I see,” he rumbled, and then you understood.

“Give me time,” you spoke, now standing up, ”let me… get to know you. get to know you,” your nervousness grew. What would you get yourself into here? You didn't know him and could you even love him? He was an alien, yes. But the fact that he had saved you and made the effort to give you gifts made you see him in a different light. Even his appearance didn't really bother you much, why should it. He wasn't ugly or scary just because you didn't know what he looked like. On his planet, he was perhaps one of the prettiest.

His bright eyes scrutinized you. Only now did you notice that his eyes weren't completely silver. They were green-gold on the inside and you had to admit to yourself that you found them pretty. You woke up from your stupor when his large, long-clawed claw took one of your strands of hair. Not daring to move, your eyes met his.

“Sei'i,” he nodded at you, then let go of your strand and stood up.

“Take all the time… You need. No…hurry,” he growled and you felt relieved. So now you had the chance to meet him, a large alien who was over two meters tall and could kill a bear with ease.

A'thaen even accompanied you home. You had offered him the chance to sleep in the house so that he wouldn't have to sleep outside in the bad weather. He gratefully accepted. The bad weather actually didn't bother him much, he still had his smaller spaceship to sleep in. But he was reluctant to refuse to let him into your house. He didn't know why his instincts had chosen you, you are small, weak and human. But this awakened his protective instinct and he felt a great need to look after you.

He felt his body reacting to you, to your scent. Especially when you were scared. He couldn't deny that it excited him the way you were scared, it was just in his nature. He was an elite hunter. One of the best of his tribe, if not the best. He has killed many xenomorphs, many different types of large predators. On Earth and also on many other planets. Even humans have not been spared. Once he started he couldn't stop, he was in a bloodlust and that made him a feared hunter; his experience, his strength and his temperament made him the deadliest Yautja of his tribe.

His heart was cold and he did not let emotions get to him, something the younglings learned very early on. Especially when they were being trained as hunters, but then you came along. A little human who most likely couldn't even give birth to successors and clouded his mind. Your weak body aroused him and awakened his instincts, but he had to restrain himself. You were no Yautja female who could be fucked easily. You were fragile and probably wouldn't even be able to take all of him.

He wanted you gentle, he wanted you to come to him willingly and ask him to make you his and breed you. But deep down, he really wanted to be gentle. He was known to be a killer, a monster. But he would not harm his future female, he would look after you and kill anyone who could harm you. He wanted to be an equal lover. In fact, he didn't think much of the mating behavior that many Yautja had. Many females of his species mated with several males. It was neither about love nor about the shared feeling of being one. They simply wanted to reproduce, to satisfy their urges. But it annoyed him, he longed for something different, something gentle and long. For you. He only wanted you.

You thought about where he could sleep best. He was so big. Too big for the bed, too big for the couch. Your brain was working, then you thought of something. Since you were a frostbite, you still had some blankets in the wardrobe, which you fetched as quickly as possible. With great effort, you built him a bed right in front of the fireplace. Two mattresses and five blankets should be enough. A'thaen watched you with amusement and attention at the same time. No one had ever made a bed for him before and he admired how much effort you had put into it. His gaze fell on the fireplace and pride grew in his chest when he saw the gifts he had given you. You had kept all the skulls and the necklace was there too and he purred. He really liked it.

“How are your wounds,” your voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he turned to you. His head tilted slightly.

“Better… Wounds heal… Faster…, with Yautjas,” he explained and you nodded. His mandibles twitched and he could sense that you were nervous. He wondered why.

“May I see them?” you asked and A'thaen nodded, then began to undress. You blushed and the hunter in front of you could smell it, he could even hear your heartbeat and it made his ego grow. He liked the way you reacted, the way your body responded.

He took off his armor. Shoulder plates, arm guards, breastplate, knee armor and his stocking nets he took off, he also put down the plates on his loincloth. His wounds had healed completely, only pale patches were still visible and you were amazed. And now you could see him in his full glory.

His skin was matt black, only the skin on his chest, inner arms, thighs and palms was a few shades lighter. On his back you could see wild patterns and his skull plate was decorated with an ornament-like pattern. He had thick thighs and his upper arms also showed the pure strength that was in him. He had a thick mane of dreadlocks and you admired the beautiful blood-red beads that caught your eye the first time you saw him. They suited him. But what fascinated you the most were his eyes. You had never seen eyes like his before. They were like liquid silver and in the middle was this green-gold color that made him truly unique.

“Do you… still like what… you see?” he asked, croaking, his mandibles twitching. You shook your head in amusement.

“You have a really big ego, A'thaen,” and you had to chuckle. His mandibles twitched again as he heard the strange sound from you again. Hoomans called it 'laughter' or 'giggling'. Yautjas didn't have that, but he really liked hearing it from you.

Then he grabbed the tense bicep he'd lifted earlier with his one claw and pressed against the hard flesh.

“That… is big,” he growled and you rolled your eyes. What a show-off. But you couldn't ignore the way his taut biceps had an effect on you. His eyes flashed with pleasure as he could smell your scent changing again. You didn't want to admit that you liked him, but your body couldn't deny it.

“Do you like what you see?” you asked him now and he nodded immediately.

“Sei'i!”

You blushed, he hadn't even hesitated, you had. You had not yet admitted that you liked him, that he somehow managed to impress you, that his muscles were not foreign to you and his strength impressed you.

“A'ket'anu,” A'thaen chirped and you could have sworn his gaze turned affectionate. But alas, you didn't understand what he said.

“I think you need to teach me your language,” you grin sheepishly and with a chirp he agreed with you.

“Fine,” he growls, ”A'ket'anu… means… beautiful. Just like… You,” now you could swear your face was as red as a tomato. How could someone who looked so terrifying say such things?

“Will… teach you… Teach you,” he nodded. And he did. The next day, he had tried to teach you the basic words so that you could understand him better. It was difficult for you to emphasize the accents correctly, but the Yautja had a lot of patience. You spent a good two weeks learning.

“Not… bad,” he grunts, nodding at you appreciatively. You felt the pride in your chest and smiled.

“Why can you speak my language?” you asked curiously, setting down a cup of tea for the Yautja, who eyed it curiously.

“Been… often…on Planet. Earth. Have… quickly… learned,” he explained, tasting the flavored hot water. It was strange, but not bad.

“How old are you?” you asked next, wondering how old Yautjas could get.

“Three hundred years,” A'thaen replied and your mouth dropped open. Three hundred… Years? He didn't look old, if you could interpret it. He was strong, agile and well-built and apparently three hundred years was like young adulthood in Yautjas.

“That's really… old?” it sounded more like a question than a statement and A'thaen almost seemed offended, shaking her head.

“Three hundred very young… about the age… of a human… Between… twenty-three and twenty-seven. Approximately,” he explained and you nodded, not wanting to offend him, but three hundred years is a lot. He had told you more. About Yautja Prime, his life and the Xenomorph. You had to swallow, because they were the other big predators here on the planet and there had been some near you. It made you feel quite different to think that the strange and deadly creatures might have seen you a long time ago and it wouldn't have been long before they would have struck.

A'thaen noticed your discomfort and placed a heavy claw on your shoulder comfortingly, even though he didn't say anything. You could feel that he wanted to reassure you and you looked at him gratefully. But then he did something that made you tense every muscle. His claw began to stroke your collarbone. It was so big that it covered part of your breasts and it was an intoxicating sight. He was so big. You had never seen anything bigger.

Carefully he slid further and let his hand rest on your hips. He had rough hands, but it was pleasant the way he touched you and you had the dull feeling that on his home planet things weren't always really gentle when it came to such things. But it was the same here.

His thumb claw gently stroked the fat of your belly and he admired it, you were so soft. Your skin was smooth and not leathery and he began to purr. He could break through your skin so easily, a little more force and he would see a drop of blood ooze from the stitch. But he didn't, of course. His other hand grabbed your leg and he stood between your legs. You were imprisoned by the power he was using for good, now kneading the flesh of your thigh. You sighed blissfully and realized how much it fascinated him too. Logically, you were so different from him.

He continued kneading and again you sighed contentedly, he clicked. A'thaen absorbed every bit of information his touch triggered in him and your pleasurable sounds made him hard. He could feel his blood flowing into his cock and he was getting hard, but it wasn't the right time yet. He wanted you to trust him completely and want it too. Now he took his claw and traced from your navel up to your breasts, you whimpered at the touch and the way he lifted your breasts as his hand ran against them.

You weren't wearing a bra and the Predator's eyes could see your bursting nipples. They were already pebbly and a growl escaped his throat as he could now detect your scent. The tip of his thumb slid over your standing nipple and you closed your eyes, your brows crinkling. You had been trying to concentrate, to not let yourself get foggy. He hadn't even been here long and already you were letting an alien touch you and make you wet.

A'thaen became bolder and took your right breast completely in his large claw. The rough skin of his hand pads made you shiver and you felt so very sensitive. Of course, you were already familiar with sex, even though you had almost no male visitors out here. But you knew how to help yourself and now this was this huge alien who thought he could make you so wet with a single touch.

“A'thaen,” you sighed and your eyes looked at him pleadingly from under your lashes, but he didn't continue. His silver-green eyes just stared at you. You could hear him suck in the air and you could feel him tense up, but then he let go of you. Just like that, you looked at him, confused.

He couldn't make you his yet. A'thaen knew his tail would be far too big for you, at least at first, and it would take good preparation, even if you wanted something else. He needed to distract himself before he did something wrong, he didn't want to hurt you or do anything rash, so he went out of your house, hunting. You were still lying on the kitchen counter where you had sat before your little game, half confused and agitated.

With dizzy legs, you got up and looked after the Yautja as he quickly disappeared into the forest. Damn, he couldn't just abandon you like that, yet you were understanding and let him go.

A'thaen growled and the next moment he slammed his claws into a tree and ripped them out again. The wood splintered and left huge gouges. He had to distract himself, but the soft skin of you had burned into him and was driving him mad. He had been so close to making you his, breeding you and making you beg for more. He could have taken what he wanted with ease, but he didn't want you like that. Somehow he did want it, but he also wanted you to want him, because you also… loved him.

That word was so foreign, but also so close. Love… . Yautjas usually didn't know love, at least it was rare and they certainly didn't have love for another species. There were always exceptions and he had heard of some of his kind taking human females as mates.

But you were the one and he was about to go too far, but he could smell you wanting him and he could feel his cock getting hard again at the thought. He had checked out the surroundings through his mask. He would go hunting.

You were a little surprised when you saw the buck lying on your porch. At the same time, you were pleased. He was still here. A'thaen had not shown his face for seven days now and you had missed him, yet he had continued to give you gifts and you were very grateful for that.

On the eighth day, you used the time to cook. You cooked a stew from the venison and you could smell it all the way outside. You were so distracted that you didn't notice an invisible figure sneaking up behind you and placing large claws on your hips. You cried out and quickly turned around with a knife in your hand. But the blade was gripped by a claw and you widened your eyes.

“A'thaen!!! What the hell is this?” you sneered at him and he glared at you in amusement. Then you noticed the blade in his claw and green blood dripped along the metal. Your eyes immediately went wide in shock.

“Oh no! I'm so sorry… I-” he interrupted you.

“It's all right… I've… Worse,” he put the knife down and his eyes stared at the cut in his hand and the small hands of you holding it. So small and fragile. He didn't notice the cheeky gleam in his eyes as you thought of something.

“I know a good spot in the forest where you could go hunting,” you breathed and now his eyes were on your face, patterning you.

“About two kilometers from here, by a river. There are hot springs there too,” you almost whispered the last part, but he heard it anyway. You wanted your revenge and you were going to get it. You couldn't get his touch out of your mind and it had scared you how much you had reacted to him. But you didn't realize it was because of his pheromones, which were part of what made you want him. This effect was particularly noticeable with potential partners. It happened all by itself.

"I don't know this… place," he admitted and seemed to be pondering. Normally he chose his hunting spots himself, but he became curious. He was always up for new hunting grounds. He swung his head in your direction when he felt your hand on his forearm.

"You haven't seen each other for a long time. I-I missed you," you confessed to him and A'thaen's eyes widened briefly. You had missed him? Even though he had just left you standing there. His heart sank at that statement. He cooed and his large hand gently stroked your cheek.

"I missed… you too," he purred and a slight smile graced your face. You could feel your heart stopping and maybe you just had to admit to yourself that you found this alien attractive. You didn't feel weird about it, you found it exciting and you had nothing to lose.

"Would you like something to eat?" you asked him in his language and he seemed surprised. Had you continued to study diligently? Brave Hooman. He only now felt the hole in his stomach and nodded slightly. You gave him some of your stew and he gulped it down greedily without leaving a drop. You laughed. What a greedy mouth, but you couldn't help but notice the sauce running down his chin and you licked your lips. He noticed your look but said nothing. He just stored it away.

A'thaen walked through the forest, he wanted to go to the place you had suggested. He wanted to visit you this morning, but you weren't there. Since you were an independent being, he hadn't thought about it at first. Maybe you were getting things for Hooman. He paused when he noticed a scent, his mask scanned the area, but he found nothing at first. His mandibles clicked in surprise and he continued on.

But then he noticed something. As if from nowhere, a deer jumped out of a bush, with a quick movement he grabbed it easily before it could jump away. The animal's squealing made his instinct scream and with a skilled grip he ripped out the animal's vertebrae. The carcass hung limply in his claws, but he wasn't finished yet. He carefully cut open the chest and removed the heart, took off his mask and the hunger for blood permeated his veins as he bit into the bloody muscle and devoured it.

He noticed how he was slowly losing control and wanted more. With quick steps he pushed through the undergrowth, further and further and there he was again. That smell…, your smell. An electric shock shot through his body and he became suspicious, what were you doing out here in the forest? Had something happened to you?

When he pushed some of the bushes out of the way, he froze. There were some hot springs in front of him, there were several natural pools of different sizes and you were sitting in one of them, with your eyes closed.

"You were here pretty quickly," you grinned and opened your eyes. The sight of him was simply divine. The poor Yautja really had no idea what this was all about. Then a light went on in his head.

"You lured me here," he said in Yautja language and you grinned cheekily at him.

"Yes. As punishment for leaving me behind that one day, you have to watch me bathe now," you laughed and got up from the water. A'thaen's eyes became greedy when he saw your wet, smooth body. He could feel his tail twitching at you and a growl coming from his throat.

"Don't you dare tease me, Hooman," he growled and started to get dangerously close to you. He was really close to not being able to control himself anymore. You accepted the challenge and started to knead your breasts, which immediately made him growl loudly. You sighed and pinched one of your nipples between your fingers.

"I didn't think it was very nice that you touched me like that and then just left," you said, panting and feeling yourself getting wet. A'thaen was now dangerously close to you, he started to take off his armor and his loincloth was thrown to the side as well. Your eyes widened when you could see his thick length. But the sight of it emerging from his sheath, swollen and hard, also excited you.

Suddenly you were grabbed, a wave hit your thighs and stomach and you gasped as the Yautja pulled you towards him. His look was murderous and greedy.

"I wanted to mate with you when you were ready. If you loved me. Yautja almost always take what they want, but I didn't want to force you to be mine," he growled and you had to make an effort to understand him. But you did and now you understood what his problem was. He wanted your consent and it made your heart swell.

"Do you love me?" you asked him and his grip tightened so much that it almost hurt.

"Yes! I love you, ever since the first day I sat in my ship and felt you. When I felt that you were my partner and you don't know how much I hold back from taking you right here and filling you with all my seed that has been building up inside me for so long," his honest words impressed and excited you at the same time and your mouth was open. His silver eyes burned into yours and you were so ready to let him join you.

Your hand ran along his jaw and his eyelids drooped. He purred at your touch and his cock pressed against your stomach. Your hands continued to explore him, running over his toned chest, over his chiseled abs and to his powerful hips. You imagined how they would feel between your legs and you subconsciously bit your lip.

A'thaen had no patience left, he grabbed your hips and fell backwards. You clung to his shoulders and squealed as the water swayed against you. You were now sitting on his lap, in the middle of the hot springs and you weren't even sure if it was your own heat or the steaming springs.

"You… start," the Yautja growls, looking at you lovingly and lustfully at the same time.

"Don't want to… hurt you," he moans as you take his swollen cock in your hand. It was really thick and big, which didn't surprise you, but it also put you off a bit. Could you even take it?

You carefully placed yourself over him, you could feel how swollen you were and how much you wanted him now, so you gently lowered yourself onto him. A growl came from his chest as he could feel his glans slowly entering you and stretching you. Your mouth was open, it felt good, despite the fact that it burned slightly.

You moaned as you sank deeper, your head slightly back and your eyes closed. A'thaen could see the strong pulse in your neck and it drove him wild. How he wished he could be on top to take care of you and give you your satisfaction, but you knew you had to get used to his size first so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

He was almost completely inside you and you had never been as full as you were today. You didn't regret an inch of him being inside you. You could feel him slowly approaching your cervix and it made you pause for a moment, but suddenly he rocked his hips up and you moaned as a strange but familiar feeling ran through your body.

You hadn't had sex in a long time and having something like this now overstimulated your senses to the limit. You moved your hips forward and the delicious feeling gave you goosebumps. Your fingers dug into his forearms while he still held you tightly by the hips and you took full advantage of the fact that you were in charge.

Even though you could feel him bucking beneath you and throwing his head back. The water had long since mixed with the blood of his victims and you didn't care that it stuck to your palms, it just gave you a forbidden and disgusting kick.

"A'thaen," you gasped lustfully and moved faster. He growled and forced you to move even faster. Your mouth fell open again, it was so much, he was so much. His mandibles were wide open and came dangerously close to your face, but it didn't matter. You knew he wouldn't hurt you and you were too caught up in your intoxication.

You gasped and a scream escaped your lungs as his fangs dug into your shoulder and left his mark on you.

Your clitoris rubbed against his lower abdomen, making you even wetter. You rubbed yourself against him like an animal and felt yourself getting closer to your orgasm. You forgot the world around you as everything contracted and you didn't care much as your fingernails dug into his scaly skin and you moaned loudly as your orgasm flooded you with happiness hormones. A'thaen did the same. His claws pecked you as he came inside you, growling and snorting deeply.

You clung to his neck and tried to calm your rapid heartbeat. A'thaen's heartbeat was also uncontrollable and it was still twitching inside you. Sweat ran down your face and you just realized what you, you, had done. You were now tied to him. The four red dots on your shoulder made it pretty clear.

Gently but firmly, A'thaen grabbed your neck and forced you to look at him.

"You belong to me now," he growled and you just nodded and moaned as you felt his cock getting hard again inside you. He would now show you every day who you belonged to and you didn't mind. You were excited about the future with your companion.

Part 2 ?

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Better when you're here ⭑

Masterlist

Pairing: Sad!king!aegon x sister!reader

A/N: #needthat

Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, pure filth, aegon whines so much I lost count, heavy mommy kink, sub aegon, fingering, piv sex, slight handjob, titty sucking (yes again), sad aegon.

Summary: Sad and needy Aegon just needs mummy to make him feel better :((((

Word count: 2.2k (pretty short blurb)

The gardens were your favourite place in the Red Keep, it was often quiet. And not to mention the beautiful view of the sea. You sat at one of the table’s in an alcove, it was nice and tucked away, giving you your own private space.

You read some book for a while and enjoyed your wine and lemoncakes. Because you never knew when it would be the last time you could sit here. You had been of age for two years now, and even though you have avoided marriage for quite a while, you never knew what your grandsire Otto Hightower had in mind. 

Now you had at least some security since your eldest brother Aegon was now king and everyone was distracted by the war that loomed over Westeros like a black cloud. Only a few more drops of rain to form before the whole thing came crashing down. 

Frustration and anxiety filled everyone's hearts and it was hard to pretend nothing was wrong. But the person you feared most right now was Aemond, he seemed to lose control everyday and he shocked the realm when he killed his own fourteen year old nephew at Storm’s End. However he was now to marry too, to some Baratheon girl and you knew that soon they would use you too, to make alliances with houses. Binded by a meaningless marriage.

You felt like it was all you were good for, and you saw how it affected Helaena and Aegon. Your heart broke for her, she wanted nothing more than to be left alone and live in peace, yet she must be queen. Aegon was of course also affected by this, ever since he became king he drank more than ever before and had even grown a bit of a belly. Still he remained of a nice physique. 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you rode your dragons with him. He didn’t have much of a relationship with Helaena, seeing her more as his quiet sister than his wife and queen and for some reason it seemed better that way. She would be left alone more. 

But you and Aegon were a different story, you liked to sneak around and have fun with him. He might not be a great king or a good man but he was a good brother to you. And you saw things in him that no one else seemed to. The crown seemed to only stress him out and you knew that he just wanted to live out his days drinking wine and relaxing but your mother and grandsire had other plans. 

As of late you couldn’t see him much, council meetings took a great part of the day and he would always hide in his chambers afterwards. Your mother seemed to keep you away from him, for what reason you didn’t know. Your days went from watching Aemond train, flying around KIng’s Landing with Aegon and running around the Red Keep with friends to praying at the Sept, locked inside your chamber or helping Helaena with embroidery. That is why the gardens offered a nice escape.

Soon you would pay a visit to your elder sister and her twins. After a morning at the sept with your mother and sister you needed some alone time. But Helaena was always a calming and nice presence and it was good to keep her company.

After reading the last sentence of a chapter you closed the book, and decided it would be nice to sow with Helaena. As you walked through the halls of the red keep numerous ‘your grace’ and ‘princes’ surrounded you, staff getting out of your way. You ascended the stairs in the throne room, it was empty. Soon it would be supper time but there was enough time.

When you reached Helaena’s door you could already hear your niece and nephew playing, which put a smile on your face. You knocked twice and a handmaiden opened, letting you inside. Helaena was sitting on some blankets and pillows, already embroidering what looked like a blanket. She looked up and slightly smiled when you joined her side, children playing on their own blanket. 

Getting handed some thread, a needle and a new fabric, as was the routine, you began to work on something for Aegon and if you worked hard enough you could bring it to him tonight. When you were about finished, a servant came in to fetch you and Helaena for supper with the family.

But when you arrived only Aemond, Alicent and Otto were there, Aegon’s seat was empty. Silently you both joined them and began eating without him. Supper was tense and silent as it had been for about a month now. When you had finished, you excused yourself and fetched the doublet you had finished before supper, wanting to bring a gift to your brother. 

When you had fetched it you hurriedly made your way up to the king's bedchambers, you knew something was wrong with Aegon, all the stress had probably gotten to him. When you had almost reached the door Ser Criston Cole stood guard there. He bowed his head before he spoke; “Princess, the king does not wish to be disturbed right now.” He said politely. 

“I understand, but I have something to cheer him up, so please, let me enter.” Ser Criston seemed to think about it, before releasing a sigh and opening the door for you, very softly as to not disturb his grace. You stepped inside and Cole just as softly as he opened the door, closed it again. It was now dark and Aegon’s fire was lit as he sat in a chair in front of it, you could hear the sobs coming from him. It broke your heart. 

You quietly made your way towards him. “Aegon?” You called out. He didn’t lift his head. You walked around him so you were standing in front of him, he looked up with red stained cheeks, and red, tear filled eyes. “Oh Aeg- what happened?” You asked him, instead of answering he buried his head into your stomach, his hand gripping your dress as he sobbed into it. The doublet falling on the ground.

You caressed his messy short silver locks and he continued to sob for a while, in your embrace. Then he seemed to speak up; “They- don’t care about- me-” He choked against you in between sobs. “Who doesn’t care about you?” You were confused but he lifted his head from your now tear stained dress. “The- the- council- mother- my own hand- they don’t- care-!” He sobbed as he looked at you desperately. 

But to your surprise he pulled you in his lap as his hands were still clinging to your dress. You gasped as you landed on his thighs, he buried his face in your chest instead and continued to cry, the doublet on the ground, forgotten. “Aegon they do care, especially mother, they just want the best for you. To help guide you since they have knowledge of war-” “No! They all hate me- everyone of them!” His breath on your skin gave you goosebumps. His hand now rested on your hip, keeping you in place. 

“You’re the only one who loves me- I see that now- my beautiful smart sister.” He seemed to have exhausted his tears as they now stopped, he breathed heavily against your chest, nuzzling his face against your breasts. He must have had wine. “You love me? Right sister?” He mumbled against your breasts. “Of course I do, so incredibly much. I would do anything for you.” You soothed him, hand still grazing through his silver locks. His purple eyes stared up at you and he smiled slightly.

“Anything?” He asked softly. “Of course, you are not only my brother but my king.” You smiled, placing a kiss on his forehead. This stirred something in him and he breathed heavier again. His face and especially his nose grazed your neck and jaw, lips ghosting over the warm skin. Your own breath hitched in your throat at the feeling. “Aeg-” He ignored you and started to kiss and nip at the soft skin. You lightly gasped at the feeling, and then you felt something hard against your thigh. 

“Brother I don’t think we should-” He stopped and looked at you with teary eyes. “I need this- I need you. Please- just- just let me make you feel good. To thank you. Please mummy.” That last part was whined against your chest where he let his hand graze the low neckline of your dress. Since it was warm earlier, it was quite thin and loose. Your body felt hot at his words, your lower stomach filled with an ache you didn’t understand.

His hand started then at the bottom of your leg, underneath your dress, as he caressed your leg moving up and up where you didn’t know you needed him. “I’m so hard for you mummy. All because of you.” He whined. His hand had finally reached your core, two of his fingers rubbing over your smallclothes, which were already wet with your slick. “Aegon-” You moaned, sparks went off in your body at his touch, you had no idea what he was doing to you but seven hells did it feel good. You hoped he would never stop, but still it felt wrong and guilt consumed you. Yet you didn’t stop him.

His other hand that didn’t tease your clothed clit was still busy with your neckline. The dress was loose enough for him to pull it down so your tits would fall out. He wasted no time in sucking on them. The feeling of his warm wet tongue sucking on your nipple made you release a moan. It felt way too good, it had to be a sin. Aegon himself moaned around your breast, bucking his hips up in need for friction. All your will to stop him had left you. Desire clouding your mind. You moved so that both of your legs were now on either side of his lap, the chair was big and comfortable enough to allow this. 

Aegon released your nipple but never moved his hand from teasing you. But when you sat down, his hand trapped, he removed it and pulled at your dress, eager to remove it. You didn’t know why you did it, but you needed him. You helped him remove your dress and shimmied out of your small clothes as well. “Need to be inside you mummy.” You gasped at his fingers sliding through your now bare slit. His fingers then stimulating your clit. Your breath hitched when he put a finger inside you, going deeper until he found that spot that would make you see stars. He stretched you out a bit for a while until he got too impatient and grabbed your hand to place between you, over his bulge. 

You instinctively squeezed it making him gasp. He moved your hand and quickly undid his breeches himself. He then reached for your hand again and helped you stroke his thick veiny cock. Pre cum started to dribble out over both your hands. And Aegon groaned at the sight. When he was almost about to cum for your hand alone, he removed it, as he did, he removed his fingers inside your cunt as well. Grabbing your hips instead, his cock was so hard it hurt and the feeling of his tip hitting your warm slick entrance almost made him cry out. He used one hand to guide his cock better inside you and you winced in pain. “It’ll be better soon, I promise.” He said softly. 

You whispered okay and he buried himself deeper inside until he was fully sheathed inside you. Your clit hit his pelvic bone and a bolt of pleasure shot through you. You felt so sensitive and weak. When you felt like the pain went away you slowly started to grind and bounce on his cock, testing the waters. He whimpered in response, it just felt so good for him. He held on to your hips so you could start a steady rhythm and he knew he wouldn't last long. “So tight mummy- feels so good.” He sobbed. Squelching and slapping noises filled the room and you both forgot all about a certain guard outside. 

Both of your moans filled each other's mouths as you held on tight to each other. Lost in pleasure you chase your release and started riding him faster, Aegon started to fuck up into you in response chasing his own high. “Mummy- I-I’m close- please- gonna fill you so good.” Aegon whined. This only spurred you on and soon you clenched down on his cock, fire striking through you, you had never felt such insane pleasure in your life. Aegon did not stop fucking into you though and only moments later he cried out as his warm seed filled you. He squeezed you against him tightly to hold you in place. 

He came so much it started to drip out along his shaft, onto his balls and some drops even landed on the floor. You both caught your breath and Aegon didn’t let go of you. But after a few moments his grip loosened and you winced when his softening cock left you. He whined at your warm body getting up but you soothed him, just getting the rest of his clothes off and helping him to the bed. You laid down as well and he immediately crawled up against your chest. “Thank you mummy.”

[hungarianmudkip69]

acquired crisis core today (...yesterday, technically.) was doing the infiltration in chapter 5. eventually decided "i'll just make a backup save that i come back to for the trophy someday and deal with losing an item or two." got the trophy on the next attempt

[kelogsloops]

Cloud Ladder to the Moon watercolour & mixed media on paper

Excited to share that I’ve been part of 3dtotal's latest book project: Hokusai: An Artist’s Tribute! Fourteen artists (including me!) were invited to reimagine masterpieces of Katsushika Hokusai. You might not recognize his name, but you definitely know his iconic work, The Great Wave Off Kanagawa (yes, THAT wave painting).

We each documented a 15-step process showcasing how we created our pieces from start to finish. Each of us shared insights into our inspiration and artistic choices throughout the process. In my chapter, you’ll see how I recreated Hokusai’s original ink drawing, ‘Daoist Master Zhou Sheng Ascends a Cloud-Ladder to the Moon' to this very painting here

More info about the book & prints here: https://bit.ly/40jLdWL

#brbchasingdreams

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