#i wasn’t having the best art day but the ideas were flowing

[apple-cider-vinegarrr]

Luca au ft Mike being a little shit

[unstable-samurai]

Passenger

Nana x Male Reader

word count: 7.8k

A/n: special smut to celebrate Nana's birthday 🥳

You're sitting at the counter, glass half-empty. The bar lights are dim, casting a warm amber hue that makes the place seem imperfect, but in a comforting way. Most nights, someone else serves you, someone who never asks your name, and you never feel the need to say it.

But tonight, that person isn’t here. Instead, there’s Nana.

You’ve noticed Nana before. How could you not? She stands out like a wildfire in the middle of a forest. She has that kind of beauty that’s almost aggressive, as if every detail was designed to challenge the idea that perfect people don’t exist. Her hair is long, black like the night outside, and her body... Her body is like a work of art, covered in tattoos you try not to stare at for too long, but they demand attention. Her curves, her intense eyes. She moves like she doesn't care about the world, but you notice her every move, and although you haven't realized it yet, she also notices you.

Tonight, she's the one who walks up to you. When she stops in front of you, you can’t hide your surprise.

"Another one?" she asks. Her voice is slightly deep, velvety.

You nod, trying not to seem nervous, but you know you are failing.

"You come here every night," she says as she fills your glass. "But I never serve you."

"Yeah. It’s always that bearded guy," you reply, forcing a smile. Your voice feels smaller than it should.

"What brings you here every day?"

"I like the atmosphere."

"It’s not the best place to be every night, you know."

You let out a sigh.

"Still, you work here every night."

She raises an eyebrow.

"And that’s exactly why I know it’s not a good place for you. By the way, my name is Nana."

You grip your glass tightly, as if it’s the only anchor keeping you there. You do the formalities, say it's a pleasure to meet her and also give her your name, then continue: "Well, I’m new in town," you end up saying, not sure why you’re opening up to her. "I don’t know many people yet."

She pauses for a second, as if studying you. Something in her eyes changes. She doesn’t say anything, but the way her lips curve suggests she’s interested.

"New in town... and you’ve already chosen this hole of a bar to spend your time?" she teases, with a half-smile.

You laugh, a short, nervous laugh. "It’s what’s available."

She leans in a bit, resting on the counter. "And what are you looking for here? Besides cheap beer?"

You think about the answer. You don’t have one. Or maybe you do. Or maybe you really don’t.

"I don’t know," you reply.

She smiles. A smile that says she understands what you’re going through.

—

The bar is almost empty now, just you, Nana, and a few lost souls at distant tables. The conversation flows easily, slipping through words like the drink she keeps serving you. You feel a lightness in your shoulders that wasn’t there when you walked in, as if the weight of the day had melted away, dripping to the floor along with the drops of beer.

"I get off at midnight," she says, casually, as she dries a glass with a cloth. "What do you think about going for a drive with me?"

You almost choke. "Are you serious?"

She looks over the rim of the glass, one eyebrow raised, a small smile on her lips. "Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?"

You glance around, as if expecting someone to wake you from a prank. "I thought... I don’t know, it was just bar talk."

"Bar talk is usually full of crap, I know," she says, pushing the glass aside. "But I’m not the type to say things just to say them. When I need to clear my head, I go for a drive."

Now you’re more intrigued. "A drive?"

She leans on the counter, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. As if there were nothing strange about a bartender inviting a guy she barely knows to go out at night. "I have a hobby," she says, without rush. "I like to restore old cars."

"Old cars?" That catches you off guard. You didn’t expect that. Of all the things she could have said, that was the last.

She points her thumb outside, toward the street. "The Impala out there. It’s mine."

Your eyes follow her finger, and you see the car parked outside. A black Impala, classic, gleaming under the faint streetlights. You’ve seen it plenty of times, but you never imagined it was hers.

"You’re kidding," you say, with a half-smile. "I see it there all the time, but I didn’t know it was yours. It’s beautiful."

She smiles, a smile that feels more personal now, as if you’ve hit something you didn’t know you were aiming for. "I restored it myself," she says, with contained pride. "Took a few good years, but there it is, ready to take me wherever I want."

You can’t hide your admiration. She’s different. Very different. The kind of person who seems to have lived a hundred lives while you’re still trying to figure out your first. And she seems to enjoy keeping you off balance.

"You... seem like a one-of-a-kind girl," you blurt out, without much thought, and realize how foolish it sounds once it’s said aloud.

"I could say the same about you," she replies, with a wink.

You feel a little out of place now. She has this confidence, this raw energy that you’ve never had. And you, the opposite of everything Nana seems to represent, never imagined attracting someone like her. But, for some reason, here she is, inviting you out, asking you to get into her car, to see her world.

"So," she says, suddenly serious. "Are you coming or not?"

Your mind is still processing everything, but before you can overthink it, you respond. "I’m in."

"Then you’ll be my passenger for the night," she says, grabbing her car keys from her pocket and twirling them on her finger. She leans closer, the distance between you shrinking until you can smell her. "I’m gonna take you to places you’ve never been before," she murmurs, and the way she says it makes it feel like those places aren’t just physical.

—

You’re standing outside, arms crossed against the chill of the night that seems to grow colder by the hour. The bar has finally closed, and now you can hear the muffled voices inside, the last of the staff finishing up. The black Impala is parked in front of you, gleaming under the streetlight. You wait, anxious, unsure of what to expect.

The door to the bar opens, and she appears. Nana. This time, without the counter between you. You notice now, in a much more intense way, how her body fills the space. She’s all soft lines and yet strong, tattoos tracing her arms that you imagine extend to places you haven’t seen yet.

She pauses for a second, noticing your gaze, and smiles with a bit of amusement. "Like my tank top?" she asks casually, turning slightly as if wanting you to get a better look. "I think it fits just right, don’t you?"

You swallow hard, and suddenly, your words seem to have evaporated. "Yeah... it looks great on you."

She lets out a low laugh, tilting her head as she slips on her leather jacket. "You’re not very good at hiding things, are you?"

Before you can respond, she opens the car door and motions for you to get in. You walk to the other side, feeling the ground unsteady beneath your feet. When you settle into the passenger seat, the smell of the leather upholstery mixes with her perfume, something intoxicating.

She starts the car, the engine purring low, deep, like a beast waking up. Nana leans slightly toward you, offering a cigarette. "Want one?"

You hesitate for a second, but... why not? "Sure."

She lights your cigarette first, then hers. The car still parked, both of you smoking in silence. You cough twice before getting the hang of it. The smoke mingles with the cold air seeping through the slightly cracked window. She seems content with the moment, like the entire scene is unfolding exactly as she had planned.

"Where are we going?" you ask.

She takes a long drag from the cigarette before answering, blowing the smoke out the side of her mouth. "I was thinking we could head to the coast. There’s a cliff along the road where you can see the sea, the bridge, and the lighthouse... it’s beautiful at night." Before you can respond, she continues, turning her face toward you with that mischievous smile that seems to be her signature. "But honestly? The destination doesn’t matter much. What matters is the ride." She looks at you for a second longer. "The company."

The way she says that — the way her eyes linger on yours — makes you feel like, yes, you will understand.

“I’m in your hands,” you say.

—

The Impala rumbles softly as she finally parks on the shoulder near the cliff. The road seems deserted now, wrapped in darkness, except for the thin line of streetlights stretching ahead. You step out of the car, the night air cooler here, damper, with the salty scent of the sea rising up to meet you. Nana gets out on her side, slamming the car door and pulling the zipper of her leather jacket up to her chin. She glances at you for a moment, her eyes gleaming, as if analyzing your reaction.

“This way,” she says, her phone's flashlight on, pointing to a trail that winds down a small hill, overgrown with weeds. “Watch your step here. It gets slippery.”

You descend slowly, each step sinking slightly into the loose soil. The wind is stronger here, whipping through the leaves and Nana’s hair, which she pushes back carelessly. You follow close behind, focusing on each movement, trying to appear confident but feeling the vulnerability of walking along a dark trail leading to a cliff.

Finally, you reach the cliff’s edge. The view is breathtaking—the suspension bridge stretching across the gap, the sea below churning under the distant light of a lighthouse. Lights flicker in the distance, and for a moment, it feels like the whole world is just this scene, this moment.

“Wow,” you murmur, taking it all in. “I’ve never seen the bridge from this angle... but I’ve seen pictures of people here.”

“Some braver tourists come here,” she says. “I think it makes them feel alive.”

She turns to you, a mischievous smile on her lips. “Want to take a picture too? To mark the moment.”

You laugh nervously but agree. “Sure… why not?”

Nana raises her phone, positioning you against the dramatic backdrop. “Stand there, try to look... introspective.”

You awkwardly pose, crossing your arms and gazing at the horizon. She snaps the picture and looks at the result, chuckling softly. “Came out great. I’ll send it to you later.”

She shows you the picture, and yeah, it really is great.

She leans against a rock, lighting a cigarette and offering you one. You take it, inhale slowly, the bitter taste blending with the night. Silence hangs for a while, until she breaks the tension with a question.

“So… how’s life treating you?” Her voice is soft, but there’s something more behind it, a genuine curiosity, like she really wants to understand.

You hesitate, thinking about how to answer. “I’m not sure if I’m doing it right, to be honest.”

She laughs quietly, but not mockingly. It’s more a sound of recognition, like she’s heard that many times before.

“Knew you’d say something like that,” she replies, blowing smoke to the side. “Most people aren’t sure. Everyone pretends they know what they’re doing, but really, we’re all just fumbling in the dark.”

You look at her, waiting for more. She seems to be building up to something bigger.

“See… the problem is, we’ve been taught to measure happiness the wrong way,” she says, her tone turning more serious now. “They made us believe that happiness is about having things. Buying a new car, getting a promotion, finding the perfect partner. And all that’s just temporary bullshit. When you get it, it’s great. It lasts for a while. And then?”

She pauses, as if giving you time to process. “Then you need something else. Another goal, another prize. Happiness has become this trophy we’re always chasing. But no one tells you the race never ends. It’s like working on a treadmill.”

“You think we shouldn’t chase those things?” you ask, trying to grasp where she’s headed.

She looks at you with an intensity that catches you off guard. “It’s not that we shouldn’t chase them. It’s that we should stop measuring our lives by them. What really matters is right now. We spend so much time trying to build a perfect future that we forget the present.”

She exhales slowly, as if each word comes from some deep, lived truth. “What happens when you reach all those goals and still feel empty? Modern culture, capitalism, they sell you this idea that you’re incomplete until you have everything. But no one tells you that ‘everything’ doesn’t exist.”

You stay silent for a moment, considering. It feels like she’s saying something that’s been lurking in the back of your mind, unspoken.

“So, what should we do? Just give up on all that?”

Nana gives a sly smile, like she’s been expecting the question. “It’s not about giving up. It’s about redefining what ‘everything’ means. For me, it’s this. The journey. The company. Not the destination. What you do now, in the moment, with the people you’re with... that’s what matters. Happiness is in what you do along the way, not what you achieve at the end.”

She flicks the cigarette to the ground, crushing the tip under her boot. “Once you start living in the present, you stop worrying so much about achieving the future. Because, one way or another, the future comes. And most people don’t even know what to do with it when it arrives.”

You stand there, staring out at the horizon, feeling the weight of her words. It’s a philosophy that challenges everything you’ve been trying to do since moving to this new city, trying to fit in, trying to find your path.

“So, what now?” you ask, more to yourself than to her.

She smiles, looking at you in a way that makes the air around you feel heavier. “Now? Now you finish that cigarette, enjoy the view, and stop worrying so much about what comes next.”

—

On the way back to the car, Nana stops suddenly, spinning on her heels with a provocative gleam in her eyes. “Get in the backseat,” she says, her voice soft but with an authority that leaves no room for questioning.

“Why?” you ask, unsure of her intent.

She smirks. “Just do what I’m asking.”

You hesitate for a second, but curiosity—and something else—wins out. You open the back door and slide onto the seat. You barely have time to adjust before Nana climbs in after you, straddling your lap without hesitation. The warmth of her body against yours is immediate, electric.

“You’ve been waiting for this all night, haven’t you?” Her question comes as a whisper in your ear, her lips barely brushing against the skin of your neck.

Before you can respond, she kisses you, and everything becomes a blur of lips and skin, your heart pounding in your chest. Her hands move down your body while yours trace the curves of hers, feeling every inch.

“You’re so hot,” you blurt out, unable to hold back.

She laughs, a low, confident sound. “I know,” she replies, her lips barely leaving yours.

Her movements grow bolder, her body pressing into yours, her hips grinding provocatively against you, making you even harder beneath her. She notices. “I drive you crazy, don’t I?”

All you can do is nod.

“I’m going to take the lead tonight,” she says, sliding down without breaking eye contact.

“Lead on,” you answer, giving in completely.

She kneels in the cramped space of the backseat, shrugs off her jacket for more comfort, and tosses it to the front seat. Then, with swift efficiency, Nana unbuttons your pants, pulling them down along with your boxers in one fluid motion. Your hard cock is now exposed, throbbing under the dim light of the car.

She wraps a hand around it, pausing for a moment as if admiring her work. “Mmm, big and thick,” she comments like she’s appreciating a piece of art. She leans down, placing a soft kiss on the tip, running her tongue slowly along it, teasing. “Relax,” she whispers, her eyes never leaving yours, “because now, I’m taking you to the edge.”

She starts slowly, teasing. The tip of her tongue circles the head as if testing your limits. “Did you expect to get a blowjob tonight?” She smiles but doesn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll show you what it’s really like.”

Her tongue trails from the base of your cock, moving upwards agonizingly slowly, every movement deliberate. One hand grips you at the perfect spot, squeezing just enough to make you pulse, while the other fondles your balls, alternating between pleasure and pain in a rhythm that makes your mind spin.

You groan, the sounds escaping uncontrollably. “Fuck, Nana…” is all you can manage.

She pauses for a second, holding your cock against her face, rubbing it against her cheek. “This is what you’ve wanted from the start, isn’t it?” Her tone is a mix of teasing and command. “Seeing me down here, driving you crazy.”

Before you can answer, she takes you fully into her mouth, without warning, without preparation. Her hot mouth envelops every inch, the pressure perfect. She goes deep, as far as she can, not giving you a chance to breathe. You try to say something, but the sensation is too much.

She begins to move, her lips sliding up and down, with force and precision. “I want you to look at me,” she says, pulling you out of her mouth for a moment, her eyes locked on yours. “Watch what I’m doing.”

You obey, breathless, heart pounding in your chest.

She returns, this time more intense, sucking hard, obscene sounds filling the confined space of the car. Saliva drips down your cock, her hands working in sync, squeezing the base, each movement pulling you closer to the edge. She changes the pace again, speeding up, then slowing down, torturing you, keeping you on the brink of orgasm but not letting you go.

“You’ll only cum when I say so,” she declares, her mouth still around you, the words muffled but the command clear. “Understood?”

You can only nod, completely at her mercy. Every movement feels designed to extract the maximum amount of pleasure. Her hand is now firm on your balls, squeezing with precise control, while the other continues to guide the rhythm at the base of your cock. She speeds up again, sucking with a fervor that makes your vision blur.

“Fuck, Nana, I... I can’t anymore,” you moan, your whole body burning, muscles tense, pressure building.

“Not yet! Only when I allow it.”

Nana grips you harder now, almost brutally, her eyes locked on yours as she intensifies every movement. Her rhythm is relentless, no pauses, no mercy. Her hand squeezes the base of your cock as if she wants to wring every drop of pleasure from you. She knows what she’s doing, pushing you to the limit, not letting you breathe, not allowing you any control over what’s happening.

“Go on, I want to feel you lose control,” she whispers, her voice muffled as your cock slides deep into her mouth. The wet, filthy sound of each suck echoes through the car, mingling with your moans, now hoarser, more desperate. Her hand on your balls squeezes perfectly, making your vision darken at the edges.

She speeds up, her hot mouth sucking harder, her tongue swirling around the tip, teasing and pressing in all the right ways. Her other hand keeps your cock steady, controlling every inch that enters and leaves her mouth. You try to hold on, but she’s in command and won’t stop until she breaks you.

“You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you?” she says, her mouth still wrapped around you, each word making your cock throb more, pushing you closer to the edge. “I want you to cum now. In my mouth. I want to taste it.”

Your legs tremble, your whole body tense. The heat inside you grows, the pressure building until it feels impossible to hold on for another second. The control you tried to maintain disintegrates when Nana increases the intensity again, sucking with a force that makes you let out a deep moan.

“Nana, I’m going to...,” you can barely form the words, your entire body ready to explode.

“That’s right. Now you can,” she murmurs. Nana takes you all the way in, her throat tightening around your cock, and that sends you straight over the edge. Her hand grips your base firmly as she keeps sucking, drawing out every second of your orgasm. You have no choice anymore, your body gives in, and you feel the first wave of pleasure rip through you, your cock throbbing violently in her mouth.

You cum hard, your body shaking with intensity, muscles clenched as your cum explodes into her mouth. She doesn’t pull back, doesn’t hesitate. She keeps you deep, her mouth sealed, sucking every last drop, feeling every pulse. You feel the warmth of your own cum fill her mouth, and she doesn’t stop, still sucking, wanting more from you. She makes sure you give it all, every drop.

“That’s it... good boy,” she whispers between licks, her voice warm and husky, as the last spurt escapes, your body still trembling, exhausted.

She slowly pulls your cock out of her mouth, her lips sliding along the length in the process. Her eyes never leave you, dominant, satisfied.

“I told you I’d take you to the edge,” she says teasingly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, your taste still on her lips.

You’re buttoning up your pants, trying to process what just happened. Your mind is a whirlwind—everything feels surreal, like you’re watching from the outside. Nana is there, still with that lazy smile on her lips, as if she’d just done something casual, something she does with anyone. But you know that’s not true, she saw something in you. Though you’re not sure what.

“How do you feel?” Her question pulls you back to the car, to the moment.

You chuckle softly, a little incredulous. “Good... Too good, actually,” you answer, letting out a breath in a sigh that tries to release the tension.

“Great,” she says, reaching over the driver's seat to grab her jacket back. “That was the plan. And we’re just getting started.”

You look at her, confused. “Wait, there’s more?”

She laughs, tossing her hair back before sliding into the driver's seat. “Of course there’s more. I haven’t even had my turn yet.” She turns the key in the ignition, and the Impala roars to life like a beast awakening.

You join her in the front seat, grabbing another cigarette from the pack on the dashboard without thinking too much. The silence between you is comfortable now, almost conspiratorial. Nana glances at you from the corner of her eye, approving. “Light one for me too,” she says.

You obey, lighting both cigarettes and handing one to her. The smell of tobacco fills the car as the Impala rolls down the streets of the sleeping city. The engine hums, blending with the sound of tires on asphalt, a buzz that cradles the adrenaline.

Nana takes a long drag and exhales the smoke slowly, her eyes fixed on the road. “Ever gotten a blowjob in a car before?” The question comes casually.

“No,” you admit.

She smirks. “And how did it feel?”

You think for a second, the words swirling in your mind, trying to find something that captures what just happened. “Indescribable... Especially coming from someone as gorgeous as you.”

She laughs, a low laugh, like she expected that kind of compliment. “Thanks,” she says, with a hint of sarcasm. She shifts gears and speeds up a little more.

“Where are we going now?” you ask, trying to understand what else she has planned for the night.

Nana shrugs. “I don’t know. But there’s a gun in the glovebox, we could go out and rob some places... like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Too bad I’m a pacifist,” you joke, playing along.

She pouts mockingly, as if disappointed. “Of course you are... The best guys always are pacifists.” She winks, taking another drag before leaning in closer, the smoke mingling in the air between you. “But maybe we’ll find another way to have fun, huh?”

—

The Impala roars down the empty road, slicing through the quiet of the early morning like a blade. The city lights flicker in and out of view, passing as yellow and red blurs, while Nana drives with one hand on the wheel and the other holding her cigarette. Each time she inhales, the glowing tip briefly lights up her face, showing the smile that never leaves her lips.

She’s been talking for minutes, maybe hours—you’ve lost track of time. Her words are like smoke, wrapping around you in a philosophical fog that seems endless. “Freedom,” she says, taking a deep drag and letting the smoke out slowly, “isn’t what everyone thinks. It’s not doing what you want, when you want. No. It’s knowing that you’re nothing, nobody gives you a purpose. You’re free to create your own.”

You watch the streets go by, the low buildings and traffic lights blinking green. “Sartre,” she continues, never taking her eyes off the road, “he had this view... that we’re all condemned to be free. Like, the freedom to have to make choices, to live with those choices. There’s no ‘fate,’ just the shit you choose to do.”

You nod, not saying much, but taking in every word.

“Real freedom is knowing that all of this,” she gestures widely with her hand, indicating the city around you, “is meaningless. You, me, everyone. And still choosing what to do with it.”

The Impala turns onto a larger avenue now, lit by an endless string of streetlights. “We live in this invisible cage, you know? Jobs, money, house, car. But none of it matters, because in the end... nothing matters.” She smiles sideways, as if she’s just told the most tragic and funniest joke in the world.

You stay silent, processing. You’re not sure if you agree, but something about the way she speaks, the intensity with which she lives, makes sense. It’s like she’s living everything with such urgency that you have no choice but to keep up with her pace. It’s terrifying and addictive at the same time.

Another turn and you pull into an alley, where a neon LED sign marks a convenience store. Nana slows down and parks the car. “Second-to-last stop,” she says, turning off the engine and turning to you. “Convenience store. Let’s buy something to celebrate this condemned freedom.”

You step out of the car with her, the cool night air hitting your skin. She pulls the zipper of her jacket up again. “Tell me something,” she says as you walk toward the store entrance, “if you could do anything right now, with no consequences… what would you do?”

The question lingers, heavy, as she opens the store door. You don’t know how to respond, but the truth is, ever since you got into that car, it feels like you’ve been living exactly that: a night without consequences, a blur of unexpected freedom.

She grabs a soda from the fridge and tosses it to you. “Cheap philosophy, right? I promise I’ll stop here. Wait for me outside. Don't worry, I'll pay for your soda and buy some things and be right back.”

—

You’re leaning against the car’s hood, soda can in hand, but not really drinking. Suddenly, the convenience store door opens, and there’s Nana, but now she's holding something. It’s not what you expected—no bottles of beer or another round of cigarettes. She’s carrying a cake. Nothing fancy, just a white cake with frosting. And as she approaches, you can read what’s written, a bit crooked, in pink and blue icing: “Happy Birthday.”

You’re confused. “Happy birthday to me,” she says with a smile that tries to be casual, but you can see a hint of something deeper there.

“Wait, is it your birthday?” The question escapes before you can process it.

Nana lets out a short, humorless laugh, as if amused by your surprise. “Yeah, it’s today.” She waves the cake in front of you, almost like presenting proof. “Surprise, I guess.”

You straighten up, the soda can dangling loosely from your fingers. “Damn, happy birthday!” You hug her, awkward but sincere. The cake almost squashes between you, but she laughs again, this time genuinely. When she pulls away, you're full of questions. “But why… why are you spending your birthday with a stranger instead of, I don’t know, your friends, family?”

She shrugs, her eyes drifting for a second before returning to yours. “I don’t think anyone’s awake now to celebrate with me. I’ve got the whole day ahead for that. Right now, it’s just… my time. I was going to do this alone, you know? But then, I saw you alone at the bar and thought… maybe it would be nice. Maybe we could keep each other company.” She makes it sound simple, and maybe it is.

You watch as she places the cake on the hood of the car, like it’s the most natural setting for a celebration. She opens the packaging of a plastic knife—the flimsy kind that could snap at any moment trying to cut through tougher frosting—and starts slicing the cake right there, no ceremony, no ritual. Just a girl and a cake in a convenience store parking lot.

“I’ve only known you for a few hours, but this is so… you,” you comment.

“Good. You can lose everything, except your essence.”

As you take your first bite, the sweetness fills your mouth, but it’s the bitterness of the early morning that still lingers in the air. You’re eating cake in the middle of a parking lot, yet somehow, it’s the most meaningful cake you’ve ever had. She’s eating too, her eyes fixed on the horizon where the city lights blend into the dark sky.

“Everything I’ve said tonight,” she begins softly, “was more about me than you. I’m getting older, and these dates always make me think… reflect on everything. The choices. What could’ve been different, what still can be. I guess I was just trying to reaffirm something to myself.”

You look at her, chewing slowly. There’s something vulnerable in that moment, something you hadn’t seen in her until now. “Nana, you’re doing great,” you say, your words feeling a bit silly, but somehow, they make sense. “Look at you—you’re killing it.”

She smiles, but there’s a melancholy curve to her lips. “Yeah, maybe. Who knows.” She sighs, not out of exhaustion—more like someone shedding a weight they've carried for too long. “I always get reflective on my birthday. Maybe I just need to stop overthinking.”

You smile back, and something inside you, a light sense of urgency, makes you promise, “I’ll get you a present later.”

“You’re already my present,” she says, and then, with a quick move, she swipes some frosting and gently spreads it over your lips.

Before you can react, she kisses you. It’s sweet and warm, the taste of frosting mixing with the heat of her lips. And for a moment, you think of nothing—not the cake, not the parking lot, not the wild world. Just her.

She pulls you a little closer, and for a second, you get lost in the rhythm of her breathing, in the way her chest rises and falls, pressed against you. Nana’s hair falls over her face, and you feel its softness brushing against your skin.

When she finally pulls away, just enough to look into your eyes, your lips are still wet from the kiss. She quickly licks her own, as if savoring the moment. “This night…” she begins, her voice low, almost a whisper. “It’s been really great.”

You try to say something, but your mind is still spinning from the kiss, so you just manage to say, “Thanks… for pulling me out of my comfort zone.”

“The night’s not over yet, we still have so much to explore, so much to feel. And if you think that was stepping out of your comfort zone… just wait.” She pauses, her eyes drifting to your lips before locking onto yours again. “There’s more where that came from.”

You chuckle, not because it’s funny, but because it’s all you can do. The weight of her words feels lighter now, the tension between you both like an electric current that keeps flowing, even when you’re not touching. Her taste still lingers on your lips.

“You have no idea how much I needed this,” you say, finally taking in a full breath, as if you’ve been holding it since the night began. “I didn’t know it, but… I needed it.”

She gives a small nod, as if she knew that all along. “I can feel the energy of the people around me. And when I saw you at that bar… you looked like you needed a different kind of night. Something… off the script. And now here we are.”

“Yeah… here we are.”

“But seriously,” she continues, her voice lower, almost confiding. “I wanted tonight to be good. And I’m glad you’re here with me. Truly.”

You run a hand through her hair, just a light touch, but it says everything. “I’m glad you chose me for this.”

“You were the best choice of the night. And now…” She glances around, as if looking for something, anything to pull you both back into the moment. “Let’s finish this cake before it melts on the hood.”

She scrapes a bit more frosting with her finger and brings it to her mouth, but before tasting it, she smears another dollop on your lips again, with a mischievous smile. “This time, I want you to kiss me.”

—

Nana drives in silence, the car gliding along the nearly empty road. The city lights fade behind you, and the cool night air begins to seep in through the slightly open window. You feel the freshness, the smell of asphalt and dew-covered grass. She doesn’t say much, just smiles occasionally, as if she knows exactly what's coming and wants to savor your curiosity. And you, lost in your own thoughts, can only wonder where she's taking you now.

"It's a place where we can really relax," she says, breaking the silence. "You'll see. I promise."

Minutes later, you pull up in front of a motel. It's not one of those seedy places you see in mafia movies, but it's no five-star hotel either. The neon lights blink in soft tones, and the sign above the entrance looks a bit old, but well-maintained. You recognize the place by sight, but you never imagined you'd find yourself here. Nana pulls the handbrake in a swift, almost automatic motion and looks at you.

"Shall we?" She doesn’t wait for an answer. She steps out of the car, and you follow.

Inside, the lobby is small and discreet. A receptionist behind the counter doesn’t even look up from the book she's reading while Nana handles everything. In minutes, you’re climbing the stairs, walking through narrow hallways with striped wallpaper. There's a strange calm in the air.

When you both enter the room, it’s... normal. No surprises, just a wide double bed covered with white sheets and a brown bedspread. A lamp in the corner casts a soft light, and the curtains are thick enough to keep the outside world at bay. In the background, a TV is mounted on the wall, a small fridge nearby, and the inevitable mirror above the headboard—a cliché the motel couldn’t resist.

Nana kicks off her shoes and jacket in seconds, almost like she's at home. She walks over to the bed and, without hesitation, jumps onto it, sinking into the sheets.

"Good," she says, looking at you lazily, "I hope you know how to make the birthday girl happy. You know what I mean, right?"

You give a half-smile, a bit awkward, and walk to the bed, sitting on the edge. The feel of the soft mattress under you eases some of the tension in your body. She reaches out and touches your arm.

"Relax," she whispers. "No need to rush."

She gets up and goes to the small light control on the wall. With a click, a soft neon glow, in shades of pink and purple, fills the room, replacing the lamp’s light. Now, the room has a warm, intimate, almost dreamlike atmosphere.

She returns to the bed, this time with two small bottles of tequila she found in the mini-fridge. She hands one to you, opening hers with a pop.

"Shall we toast?" She raises her bottle in the air. "To unexpected nights... and the best company."

You raise yours too. "To the most interesting birthday girl I've ever met."

You drink, and the alcohol burns its familiar path down your throat, spreading warmth through your body. She lets out a soft laugh, that laugh you know so well, and moves closer. The closeness between you grows, not just physically, but in a way you can’t quite explain. As if, with every sip, every exchanged glance, something deeper is being built.

"I like this," she says, her voice soft, almost melancholic. "Being here, now. With you. It feels like... like I've finally stopped running for a second, you know? Like life pressed pause so I could breathe."

You feel the warmth of her hand on yours and gently squeeze it. "And I like that you pulled me out of my own head for a night."

She smiles, her eyes glowing under the neon light.

The tension between you grows, but it’s not rushed. It’s slow, almost like a rhythm you’ve created together. She leans in and kisses you, this time with a softness that suggests it's not just desire—it’s connection.

She pulls back, looking into your eyes, as if she’s studying every part of you. "From now on, the birthday girl is all yours."

Then she sighs, looking at you with those eyes that, until now, always seemed in control. But now, for the first time, they seem to be surrendering to you.

She gently takes the tequila bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table along with hers. Standing, Nana’s hands move to the hem of her tank top, and in a slow, almost ritualistic gesture, she lifts it over her head. The fabric slides down her skin like it's nothing, and suddenly, she’s exposed. Her slender body, the tattoos, her small, almost non-existent breasts, raw beauty without pretense. She sits at the edge of the bed, vulnerable for the first time.

"Do you like what you see?" she asks as she lies down on the bed. She’s not in control now.

For now.

You don’t answer. Instead, you stand up, just to be able to look down at her, feeling the power of the situation shift. She stays there, lying down, waiting, in a long, tension-filled pause. You want her even more because of it.

Nana looks at you, biting her lower lip, impatient but silent. And then, with a brief smile, you lean over her. Your hands go straight to her neck, firm but not aggressive. Just enough for her to feel that you're in charge. She closes her eyes, her breath quickening as you lower your head and begin kissing her skin—first her neck, then her shoulders. Your touch is slow, every movement deliberate, and she melts bit by bit. She moans as your lips trail down to her breasts. You open your mouth, teasing her skin with your tongue, tracing the outline of her small, dark areolas. Nana sighs, eyes closed, wordless now. She’s passive, completely surrendered, her moans soft and ragged.

"Keep going..." she murmurs, barely audible.

You obey, but at your own pace. You take one of her breasts in your hand, gently squeezing while sucking on the other, your tongue playing with her nipple. Nana arches her back, trying to move against you, but your hands on her hips keep her in place. She struggles, impatient, but you don’t let her. "Slow down, Nana," you whisper, your voice controlled, almost cold. "The night is ours."

She laughs, a short, shaky laugh. "You bastard..." she says, but there’s amusement in her voice, an acceptance of the role she’s now playing. "Are you going to make me beg?"

"Only if you want to," you reply, your lips returning to her breasts, alternating between them now, nibbling harder, your tongue circling the areolas. She moans louder, finally surrendering completely to the situation.

Nana lets out a long sigh, her fingers twisting into the sheets as you move over her with more intensity, and her breathing becomes erratic. "Damn, this... this is..." She can barely form a sentence. "This feels so fucking good..."

She tries to squirm, seeking more contact, but you hold her down again, keeping her in place. And for the first time, she doesn’t fight back. She accepts it, and that’s exactly what you wanted.

Then comes the moment. "Now I need you to eat me out," she says. And of course, you oblige. Her pants slide down her legs, and when you see it, there’s that wet spot on her white panties. You hold back the anticipation for a moment as you undress, there’s no rush, and that teases Nana in a fun way. Now free of any fabric, you trace your fingers over her panties, feeling the warmth, the moisture, while your lips travel down her thighs, following a path that leads you closer to what you really want.

She moans softly, but just enough to let you know you’re doing it right. Every second of anticipation is killing her, and she likes it. Until it becomes unbearable, and she squeezes her thighs around your head, whispering, "Lick me already. Come on, I’m about to explode."

When you pull off her panties, it’s like peeling away the last layer of something much deeper. The air in the room feels heavier, and her scent fills the space like a wild, addictive perfume. You kneel between her legs, the warm skin of her inner thighs pressing lightly on either side of you. Every breath she takes, every swallowed moan, brings you closer, deeper. Your tongue moves slowly, first lightly, as if testing, tasting the contours. The wet heat pulsing inside her precedes something big, something that’s going to break when you finally open the floodgates.

"Don’t stop..." she whispers, surrendered. "More... deeper."

You comply. Your tongue works as if following a rhythm only the two of you know. Its tip finds that exact spot, and Nana arches, her hips trembling, as if every muscle in her body is short-circuiting, rebelling. She moans louder now, unashamed, uncontrolled.

"Like that... don’t stop, fuck, keep going..." Her voice blends with her breathing, her moans becoming more spaced, almost suffocated.

You feel her taste growing stronger, the moisture increasing in your mouth, on your lips, and then, without warning, Nana’s entire body contracts. Her muscles tighten, her legs squeeze your head hard, and she cums, a muffled scream escaping her throat. Her body trembles, her hips spasming involuntarily, and you keep going, knowing it’s not over. Not for her.

"Fuck... this... my god..." She moans through gritted teeth, eyes squeezed shut, her whole body vibrating as if she’s in another dimension. And you continue, your tongue sliding faster, deeper, until she lets out a final moan, long, drawn-out, as if exorcizing everything inside her.

When you come back up, her taste is still fresh in your mouth. You kiss her, her tongue meeting yours, and she tastes herself on your lips.

"You... fuck... you drove me crazy," she says, her voice weak but still full of intent. She looks at you, her eyes bright, satisfied, then she smiles. "Now... fuck me. Fuck me like it’s the last thing you’re going to do today."

She turns over on all fours, her knees sinking into the mattress with that natural movement, without hesitation. The invitation doesn’t need words; it’s all in the gesture, in the way her hips raise, her spine arched just enough to drive you completely insane. The tattoos scattered across her slim body come alive under the soft room light, every line of the design blending with the shadows, while her desire escapes in small sighs.

You grab her hips, your fingers digging into the soft flesh as if trying to anchor her to the moment. The first thrust is slow, almost a test, and Nana lets out a low moan, something between pleasure and provocation. She loves feeling the tension building in you and pushes back, forcing you to go deeper.

"That’s it..." she murmurs through gritted teeth, "harder."

You obey. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mixing with her moans, growing louder each time. The pace quickens, you pull her closer, burying yourself deeper, while Nana moves against you, her hips meeting yours with perfect precision at each thrust. The sheets bunch up beneath her, and her moans turn into something almost animalistic, a rough sound that makes her body tremble.

"Fuck..." she moans, her head dropping forward, hair falling into her face. "Fuck me faster."

You grip her hips harder, her body responding to yours with absolute submission. Every movement is an exchange—a silent request, an inevitable response. Her moans become more erratic, the bed creaking with the frantic rhythm you both reach. Her whole body tense, the muscles in her back and thighs contracted, almost falling apart under your hands.

Suddenly, she stops, breaking the rhythm, and turns around. Her gaze is wild, a mix of excitement and challenge. "Now let me do it my way."

She climbs on top of you, her knees sinking into the mattress next to your hips, and the sight is mesmerizing. Nana looks down at you, her eyes half-closed, lips parted, as she slowly lowers herself, feeling every inch of you filling her again. She lets out a heavy sigh and starts moving, first slow, controlled, her hips rising and falling with calculated precision, almost cruel.

"You like watching me like this?" she asks, her voice raspy, full of satisfaction.

All you can do is nod. And she smiles, that smile that says she knows exactly what she’s doing to you. Nana picks up the pace, her hips slamming against yours with force, riding you without a shred of inhibition. Her hands find your chest, nails lightly scratching your skin, her face twisted in pure pleasure. She leans forward, her small breasts pressed against you, her mouth close to your ear as she whispers, her voice broken by moans.

"You... are... perfect."

Nana's hands grip your shoulders, her hips riding your cock with the precision of someone who knows their body well. But it won’t last like this. Not for long. You need to take control. "My turn," you whisper against her ear. She lets out a low moan, a half-smile, like she was waiting for it.

She climbs off of you. You both adjust, lying on your sides, legs intertwined, and you pull her closer, your mouth on her neck, tasting her sweaty skin, the scent of desire mixing with the heat of the room. "Closer," you say, as your hands travel down her tattooed hips, pulling her into you. Nana doesn’t hesitate, grinding her hips, sinking deeper into you, her eyes half-closed, mouth open, moaning.

"You like it like this, don’t you?" you ask, one hand sliding to her neck. She turns her head to look over her shoulder, that same half-cynical, half-hungry smile.

"I love it," she murmurs, and then your fingers lightly tighten around her throat. Nothing violent, just enough for her to feel the pressure. It makes her moan even louder, her body reacting, giving in to the control you’ve taken. "Harder," she asks, eyes shutting like she's lost in her own satisfaction.

You squeeze a little more, controlling the intensity with the same precision you control the thrusts. Each time you bury yourself inside her, she grips the sheets, her whole body tense with pleasure. The heat of her skin, the way she moves against you, the sound of her moans muffled by your hand... all of it makes you lose track of anything else.

"You’re so fucking hot," you say, your entire body focused on how she’s giving herself to you. She moans in response, but her words are getting more fragmented, harder to get out. You release her neck for a second, just to let her breathe better. She swallows hard and lets out a short laugh, almost in disbelief.

"Fuck, you’re gonna make me come again," she confesses, and you realize you’re almost there too. You pull out of her, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling Nana into your lap, and she climbs back on top of you. The heat of her skin against yours is instant, and you feel her entire body mold to yours like a second skin. Your feet are planted firmly on the floor, ready for the intensity of Nana’s hips. Her hands grip your shoulders, and her pussy sinks down slowly on your cock with a precision that’s pure wickedness.

The room is a mess of discarded clothes, crumpled sheets, and the scent of sex hanging in the air.

She settles in, adjusts, and then starts riding, slow at first, almost like she’s teasing, savoring the moment.

"Mmm, I knew you’d like it when I ride you… Mmm, yeah, I bet it has become your favorite position…" she murmurs, her voice low, while her nails lightly scratch your shoulders, her ass moving with pinpoint accuracy on your cock. The sensation is overwhelming, the tight, wet grip as if she was made for this.

You hold onto her hips tightly, fingers sinking into her skin, pulling her closer, deeper. "Fuck, Nana… You’re so good," you blurt out, not even realizing the words slipped out.

She lets out a little laugh, muffled by the sound of bodies colliding. "I know," she replies, and you can feel her ego swelling alongside the pleasure she’s giving you. She picks up the pace, and now there’s nothing gentle about it. No. Now it’s skin on skin, the sound of flesh against flesh, and her ass moving fast, faster, her moans coming in waves, louder and louder.

You feel everything. Her weight in your lap, her hips rising and falling in a rhythm only she controls. The way she moans when you pull her even closer, when you force the thrusts to go deeper. The sensation is brutal. You can barely think, barely speak, all you can do is moan along with her, your bodies drenched in sweat and pleasure.

"You like it when I do this, don’t you?" she gasps, her hair falling messily across her face as she rides you like she’s competing with her own pleasure. "You love it when I sit on your cock, right?"

You can only nod. Any attempt to speak would be a pathetic moan at this point.

She leans forward, her lips at your ear, her breath hot and ragged. "I’m gonna come like this… right in your lap," she whispers, like it’s a dirty secret. "And you’re gonna come with me. Together."

And there’s no escaping it. She’s pulling you along, dragging you down with her, every movement sinking you both deeper into this shared haze of raw pleasure.

Nana speeds up, riding with an almost desperate urgency now, her moans turning into muffled screams, her nails clawing at your back, leaving marks. With each thrust, you feel like you’re about to lose your mind, like the pleasure is tearing you apart from the inside.

Nana leans forward, her hair falling loose across her face, her hands braced on your shoulders as she picks up speed, and it’s like the world is melting around you. Each time she comes down on your cock, the sound of flesh slapping together is almost deafening. Her ass slides so perfectly in your lap it feels like you were made for this.

"Fuck, Nana…," you let out, almost without control, gripping her hips, pulling her even deeper, feeling your cock completely swallowed up. "I’m gonna come..."

She smirks, a wicked, crooked grin, as she keeps riding you with an almost violent intensity. "Come inside me."

Your hands slide down her sweaty back, fingers digging into her flesh, and you can only nod, speechless, your breathing ragged, your body already trembling, about to collapse. She leans in, her words a whisper against your ear: "Come with me… I want your hot cum in my tight little pussy."

And then it happens. Her body shakes, and yours follows, and everything implodes. You feel the spasm that grips her, her pussy tightening around you in a way that knocks the breath out of you, and that’s it. There’s no turning back. You come with a force that feels like it’s ripping your soul out of your body, filling her up, each thrust spilling more. Nana screams your name, or at least something that sounds like it, and she sinks down one last time, slowly, sitting fully on your cock, feeling every drop of your cum inside her.

"Fuck, Nana…" is all you can manage as the world comes back into focus, your body exhausted but still buzzing with the intensity of it all.

You stay like that, quiet, your bodies still pressed together, breathing heavy, trying to find a normal rhythm again. The room is drowned in silence, the kind of silence that only exists when the noise was so loud before it feels almost unreal now. You’re still inside her. You can feel the soft, steady heat of Nana’s body around your cock, a warmth that pulses slowly, matching the rapid beat of your heart. She doesn’t move, just stays there, relaxed against your body.

"It feels so good having you inside me like this," she says, almost like letting go of a secret, her voice low, muffled, without her usual brazen confidence. You smile, still catching your breath, and you feel a trickle of your hot cum running down your cock. "It’s your birthday, but I’m the one who got the gift," you reply. "Thank you. For this amazing night. For the conversation. For the sex. For getting to know you, Nana."

She stays quiet for a second, and you feel her body tense a little against yours. Like she’s embarrassed. Nana? Embarrassed? It’s almost funny. You can hardly believe it, but there it is, the slight blush on her cheeks, the way she looks off to the side. And before you can say more, she kisses you. A quick kiss, but full of urgency. Like she wants to stop whatever words you were about to spill.

"Shut up, idiot," she mutters against your lips, a little laugh escaping her.

You pull her a little closer, savoring the last remnants of the moment, not wanting to break whatever it is you’ve just created together. She sighs, relaxing even more, as if she’s finally let her body collapse after holding it all together for so long.

"This was a gift for me too," she finally says, letting out the laugh she’d been holding back. "And what a gift, huh? I didn’t think it’d be so... memorable." The word comes out with her typical sarcasm, but there’s a layer of real gratitude hidden beneath that tough exterior.

"I’d say the same," you reply, your voice a little lighter, your body finally slowing down, though still electrified by the feeling of being inside her.

Then, suddenly, she lets out a quiet, mischievous giggle. "Can you feel it?" she asks. "Can you feel how full of cum I am?"

She slowly climbs off your lap, placing one foot on the bed, her eyes locked on you as she spreads her legs. "Look at this," she murmurs, using two fingers to part her pussy lips, letting the cum start to drip out. "Wow, you really filled me up." The liquid drips down her fingers as she teases, "What’s better than a creampie for a birthday?”

—

You wake up to the soft light filtering through the motel curtains, making everything seem a little more golden, like the place was painted by an artist obsessed with warm tones. Your body feels heavy, but relaxed, your mind floating between dream and reality, the memory of last night still buzzing in your muscles, your skin, in the scent of Nana that seems to have fused with the air.

You barely move, and you can already feel it. She’s there. Pressed up against you. Skin on skin. Your naked bodies intertwined in a way that makes it seem like you’ve always known how to fit together, like you’re not strangers, like this isn’t the first time. And then, without warning, you feel her lips. First, a soft kiss on your chest, like she’s exploring the territory again, testing the waters. Then, the kiss travels up to your neck, and suddenly, her lips are on yours, warm and hungry. She doesn’t need to say anything. The way she kisses you says it all.

You finally open your eyes, your body starting to wake up, though you’re already fully awake where it matters. “Nana, you need to stop,” you joke, your voice raspy, trying to sound more relaxed than you really are. “You’re going to get me obsessed with you. And later, I’ll remember this and want more.”

She laughs, her lips still on yours, a quiet giggle that you feel vibrate against your mouth. “Who said we’re done here?” she whispers, gently tugging on your bottom lip with her teeth before letting it go. “Maybe I’m just getting started.”

“So, you want to see me again?” you ask, half-joking, half-serious, testing the waters.

She raises an eyebrow, like the question is ridiculous. “After a night like that? Of course I want to see you again. Many times, actually.” She bites her lip, her gaze a little challenging, like she’s already planning something, and you know she is. She always is.

Without warning, Nana reaches for her phone on the bedside table. She unlocks it and smiles, a mischievous smile. She opens the camera and points it at you both. “Let’s capture this moment.”

You frown, still half-asleep, half-disbelieving. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I am.” She says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “A night like this deserves a keepsake, don’t you think?” She doesn’t wait for your answer. Her finger is already on the button, ready to take the picture.

The idea feels strange, but you go with it. You snuggle up to her, both of you smiling for the camera, like it’s something you do all the time. She snaps the photo, the two of you grinning, with no pretense. Just warm skin, relaxed bodies. Then, she takes another. This time, you tilt your head and kiss Nana, the sensation more vivid, with a clarity that comes with daylight, when everything feels more real, less driven by the adrenaline of the moment.

When the camera’s click finally falls silent, she tosses the phone aside and leans back against you, eyes closed, body relaxed. “This is going to be a good memory,” she murmurs, and there’s something in her voice that makes you believe her.

She shifts, the sheet slipping slightly, and you feel the warmth of her skin against yours. Nana settles more into you, a slow, almost deliberate movement. She lets out a quiet laugh, more breath than sound, and you feel her smile against your neck.

“I can feel it,” she says, her voice warmer now, closer to a whisper. “You’re already hard for me.” And then, as if to prove her point, she adjusts her body again, rubbing against you like she’s discovered a new toy and can’t resist.

You sigh, half pleasure, half yearning. “Yeah, I’m horny,” you admit, no beating around the bush. There’s something about the way she’s pressed against you, the smell of her hair mingling with the room’s air, that erases any notion of self-control.

“Good,” she says, as if that’s exactly what she was waiting for. “How about a nice blowjob to start the day?”

You already know the answer, but you stay silent for a second, your mind processing the almost ridiculous simplicity of the proposal, the casual way she talks about it, like she’s asking what you want for breakfast. It’s something you love about this now not-so-strange girl. So finally, you open your mouth. “Yes, please.”

She giggles, the kind of giggle that’s full of mischief, of pure fun. She leans over you, her hand trailing down your stomach to your cock, her fingers cool against your warm skin. “I knew you’d say that,” she murmurs, almost to herself, as she starts to move slowly down your body, like she’s studying your every reaction.

Nana crawls down to your hips, her movements slow, lazy, like she has all the time in the world, and then lowers her head. Her lips touch the tip of your cock first, a kiss almost chaste, before she opens her mouth and takes you in.

—

The sun is already up, it's around nine in the morning. You're in the car next to Nana after a night that felt like it came straight out of a dirty and perfect dream. The motel is left behind like a distant memory, a blur of neon and crumpled sheets. Now, you're parked in front of your house, and reality is there, knocking at the door.

Breakfast helped you get your energy back. You had to insist on paying. It was the least you could do. Nana didn’t want to accept it, but at some point, she got tired of arguing. Though, you know she doesn't really care about that kind of thing. She doesn’t seem like someone who worries about small formalities. But for you, paying for breakfast was your way of thanking her for more than just the night. It was for a temporary collapse of everything you knew.

She leans against the steering wheel, her slender fingers drumming on it. "We’ll talk on Insta, I’ll send you the photos there too," she says, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

You smile, still a bit dazed, your muscles tired from all the pleasure and exhaustion. "That’d be great." You smile, not sure what to say in these final minutes. "I really enjoyed meeting you, Nana. I mean that."

She turns to you. “I liked meeting you too, you’re a nice guy.”

The words come out with the casualness of someone who's been through this before, but with a sincerity that makes you believe that, even if it’s fleeting, it was special in some way.

You watch her, her profile illuminated by the morning light, and realize how something so simple, a chance encounter, can turn your day, your week, maybe even your life, upside down if you let it.

"Happy birthday again," you say, your hand already on the door handle.

"Thanks," she replies. “I hope the rest of my day is as interesting as it’s been so far.”

You laugh, unsure if she's being serious or joking. But then, just before getting out of the car, something pulls you back, a final question you have to ask. "But... what now, Nana? What do we do?"

She looks at you with that smile, the one you’ve already learned to associate with the unpredictable. "Now?" She pauses, starting the car, her eyes focused on the road. "Now, we just jump to the next night and see what we find."

Of course. You knew she’d say something like that. You nod, a smile forming on your face, because there’s nothing more to say. You step out of the car, feeling different somehow, even though everything around you looks exactly the same as before.

Nana waves slightly, and you stand there, watching the car disappear around the corner, knowing that last night was just one among many that could happen.

[shootingstarwritings]

Body Surfing Lesson

“’Body surfing,’ is an important skill to learn as fledgling body possessors,” Gerald spoke to the hidden camera, putting on his teacher persona as best he could considering the ciscumstances. “Normally, it takes a lot of mana for us to take over other people, but the body surfing technique involves taking over multiple people over the course of a single day, using their own mana as a sort of ‘surfboard,’ to ride the waves of mana that flow inside of us all.” He inwardly cringed as he spoke, his current body very clearly unfitting for his lesson.

Gerald had no idea who had come up with such awful terminology, but it was far too late to change that. The small yet tight-knit community the possessors in the area had formed needed to have a sense of unity. Too much innocent blood had been shed for shame to hold Gerald back. ‘Far too many of you have been lost for me to get cold feet now,’ he thought to himself. Taking a deep breath, he continued his explanation for the future viewers.

“I’ve already spent quite a lot of my own mana to possess this young man,” Gerald forced his host to say. What was his name again…? He focused, face visibly tightening before his eyes widened in realization. “Jerry! Huh, it’s so close to my name.” He winced and made a mental note to himself to delete that part of the video. “It was difficult, y’know,” he said, pacing around in Jerry’s underwear with very little shame. He couldn’t help but strut, already enjoying the tight muscle in this youthful form. “I had to float into his cute little butt to take him over.”

Gerald grinned and slapped Jerry’s butt, enjoying the slight jiggling. He thought back earlier today as he launched into a story of how he had taken Jerry over for his class.

Gerald’s misty form had crawled through the apartment building’s pipes, searching for a nice and hot host that would catch people’s eyes while he tried to educate them. Then, he found Jerry exiting the shower and clad in just a pair of new-age briefs. Gerald stared at it in confusion, unsure if this is really what the young ones were really wearing. ‘Am I getting old?’ Gerald had briefly mused before launching himself towards Jerry’s ass.

“AH! Woah, ahhh…!” Jerry collapsed on his stomach, ass facing the ceiling as Gerald’s essence took him over. “Ah, pl-please… help…!” gasped Jerry, his hips thrusting on their own as he lost consciousness.

“Mmm, nice…” Gerald muttered as he sat up. He rubbed his stomach and then his bare, youthful legs. “It’s been a while since I was someone so young. And so hairless,” he chuckled.

“And that’s what happened,” he finished for his class. “It was lucky that this young man enjoys filming so much. Now I’ve got a nice and high-quality camera for this lesson rather than some janky phone.” It truly had been serendipity for him. Gerald giggled as he sat cross-legged in front of the camera, enjoying just how his borrowed form felt so exposed and yet so confident in his near-nudity. “So, I’ve got a dilemma. I want to move on and yet I’m pretty much exhausted my mana supplies—the essence of the soul. Say I even got into the trouble and I have to evacuate for whatever reason. What could I do in this situation?”

Gerald waited a quick second before continuing, “If you don’t know, that’s fine. This technique’s quite advanced. Not even some of our more veteran community members have even mastered it. Yours truly, however,” Gerald paused to place a hand on his chest, making sure to lightly tweak a nipple, “is well-versed enough in the arts to enlighten you.”

It wasn’t a secret nor difficult to figure out the theoretical part, but it was a challenge to divert the flow of energy instead of letting it be lost to entropy. It was similar to having a rush of anger and trying to convert the energy of that anger to something productive. In other words, it was turning anger to passion, turning sadness to compassion, and turning joy to kindness. The emotion behind it was just as important, if not more so, than the actual intention. 

‘Easier said than done,’ Gerald thought. ‘Honestly, I’d have to do a one-on-one with all of these new possessors for them to even get proficient at it. However, just imparting the knowledge would be enough… for now, at least.’

“Now, I have invited my host’s friend to come over soon. Before he arrives, I’m going to start masturbating my host’s body and preparing my mana.” One of the ways that mana flowed was through bodily fluids, with semen being one of the most potent ones. The emotions surrounding a climax allows a large flow of magic to surge through and even be present in the semen that one shoots at that moment of peak pleasure. “I won’t use my own mana,” summarized Gerald, “but instead use this young man’s mana from his own climax to possess his friend, Mike.”

Gerald was about to continue, but bit his lower lip as he heard the faintest knock from the front door. Then, Mike’s voice called out to be let in.

Grinning, Gerald placed a finger to his lips and winked at the camera. “Let the show begin.” It wasn’t difficult to begin jacking off in this youth’s body. Even stroke felt like a lightning strike and even gasp was just fuel to Gerald’s fiery lust--now reborn in this young vessel… for the time.

“C-C’mon in,” Gerald forced Jerry to say. He had left the apartment’s front door unlocked on purpose. With any luck, Mike would get curious and explore the lustful noises straight to Jerry’s room. “Door’s unlocked.” Everything was falling into place. Gerald had seen a few pictures of Mike. He was a cute ginger with a good body that used to play hockey in high school. Though his sports days were behind him, Mike still regularly went to the gym to keep a nice form. “Mmm…!” The thought of taking over another young hunk, one with fiery curly hair that was so much like his own during his teenage years, almost made Gerald cum on the spot.

“Hurry up…!” Gerald hissed. Just how much more did his thick cock need to finally cum. It was such a tease--to be on the verge of cumming but not getting there quite yet. “You stupid fucking himbo, fucking cum already!” Although he was on the verge of running out of time, Gerald couldn’t help but find the verbal abuse arousing as well. “Cum for me, boy. Lemme feel that stallion cock of yours burst all over your hairless, himbo body…”

“Jerry? That you? What’re you doing…?” Gerald could hear Mike’s approaching footfalls, and that only made the whole situation more erotic. Before losing his body, Mike would see his best friend cum all over himself like a shameless exhibitionist. And then, Gerald would do the same thing to Mike. Forget the class or keeping the peace, Gerald could only think of hopping between men and turning each of them into cum-obsessed cocksuckers.

“Hrrngh! Oh god…!” 

Yes… it was approaching. All Gerald needed to really turn this body on as he cranked the cock was a bit of foreplay. His core was beginning to tense, and he could feel himself rush past the point of no return.

Right at the precise moment, the door opened. “Jerry, what the fuck?!” Mike cried out as he saw his best friend beating his meat without a lick of shame.

Grining, Gerald forced Jerry to shout, “I’m fucking cumming…!” as torrents of cum shot high into the air in Mike’s direction.

‘Now, give me your body, boy.’

Riding that climatic wave, Gerald used the large pool mana that Jerry’s young body was shooting to propel his soul forward. Even though all of his own energy was spent, he felt rejuvenated, as though he was 20 years younger, as Jerry came. However, just like a normal wave crashing into the sea, it would not last forever. The energy could not be stored, only spent in that very moment; but that small burst in power was all Gerald needed as he dove into Mike’s body.

“Oomph!” Mike huffed as the force of Gerald diving into his body was enough to knock him off balance. He fell backwards and hit the ground, body convulsing as an invisible, unknowable force began to take him over. “Wh-What the fuck…?!” was all he could say as a cold and numb sensation spread from the tips of his fingers and toes into his core. “H-Help… ohh… please don’t…” Mike reached a trembling arm towards the doorknob, his fingers twitching as they tried to find anything to grab onto.

By the time Mike’s fingers gripped the brass knob, Gerald was already in control. “Mmm… delicious.” Something that Gerald noticed from certain bodies was that they somehow had some kind of spiritual ‘flavor.’ Mike reminded him of strawberries in a shortcake somehow. He licked his lips and chuckled at the light bristle of Mike’s bushy and manly beard. “Trying to be a real man, boy?”

Gerald forced Mike to sit up and then lie on his stomach. “Just a young man trying to be a big boy,” he chuckled as he positioned Mike’s ass high in the air, wiggling his hips the whole time. “But then a real man like Gerald took over my body. All with my best friend’s spunk as a springboard. God, what kinda friend--what kinda man--am I for letting that happen?”

A horrible idea suddenly crossed Gerald’s mind. Crawling back into Jerry’s room, Gerald opened Mike’s mouth and began to suck the remaining cum off of Jerry’s still twitching cock. “God, Mike, you’re so virile. I’m so glad you’re this cumslut’s friend,” said Gerald. Then he realized that he was still supposed to be explaining a lesson. 

Grabbing the camera, Gerald focused it on Mike’s face and began to speak. “Well, did you see that? I was all out of mana, but masturbating with a man’s other body, I was able to use his energy to possess this hunk of meat.” To illustrate his point, Gerald stripped most of Mike’s clothes until he was down to his boxer briefs. “See? And--” he stopped as he heard the front door open.

“Jerry? You home? What’d I tell you about leaving the front door unlocked?”

Jerry’s father. A tall and broad-shouldered man that, from what Gerald could tell from Jerry’s memory, wasn’t particularly fond of Mike due to his… ‘lifestyle.’ Was it due to something repressed? Mike certainly seemed to think so, but Gerald couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. Taking a look around and seeing the scene before him, Gerald began to internally panic--twisting Mike’s generally nonchalant expression into a stressed grimace.

‘Shit. His son’s unconscious, covered in cum,  and his best friend’s stripped down to his underwear.  If I saw this scene I’d think Mike was trying to date-rape my son! Don’t think I’ll be able to simply laugh off this little excursion. But… the only way to get out of this would be…’

Gerald had never attempted a double possession, with or without an explosive orgasm catapult. Was it a good thing that the camera was still recording? He wasn’t sure anymore. To be frank, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Loud, boisterous footfalls continued to ring in his ears.

Even in times of danger, Gerald knew he could rely on his libido to get him out. Throwing Mike’s underwear away, no longer caring about maintaining any sense of professionalism, Gerald got to work. Using what was left of Jerry’s cum as makeshift lube, he began to explore Mike’s tasty body with horned-up haste.

“The hell’s that, Jerry? Got a girl over?” Jerry’s father called out again. Gerald couldn’t help but giggle in-betweens his moans. If only he knew.

Mike’s gruff voice contrasted so wonderfully with his high-pitched and needy groans. His back arched and his toes curled as Gerald continued to beat his dick. The other hand freely explored the nice pelt of orange hair that coated Mike’s body.

‘What I wouldn’t give to just have a day with this guy,’ thought Gerald. A few tweeks of the nipples and he could already feel an orgasm building up. Just a few more minute and vigorous strokes and he’d be home free. “C’mon, cum for me…! Just a bit more.”

Jerry’s door flew open for the second time that day, and this time Jerry’s father roared in horror at the scene before him. “MIKE! What the fuck are you doing?! Jerry?!”

‘An audience,’ Gerald thought, smirking at the older man. ‘And not a bad looker either.’

“Hey, daddy-o,” Gerald forced Mike to say. He thrust into his grip, gyrating his hips as though to show off what his body could do to Jerry’s father. “Like the show? Have a seat, I can do so much for you if you want. I don’t mind some audience participation.” To emphasize his own point, Gerald raised a hand with a bit of pre-cum and slowly licked it off--savoring the sweet flavor.

Jerry’s father, mouth slightly agape and expression somewhere between horror and arousal, just stared at Gerald abusing Mike’s body. “Y-You’re sick,” he finally said, eyes glued to Mike’s swinging cock as it twitched. “What did you do to Jerry…?”

“Same thing I’m gonna do to you, daddy!” Gerald cried out in glee as Mike’s abused cock shot the first few rounds of semen. He bit his bottom lip, moans just barely muffled, as Mike’s hips naturally thrust with each shot. As the orgasm reached its end, Mike’s body began to tremble and grow limp as Gerald shot himself out. He rushed through the air and quickly dove right into Jerry’s father through his large chest.

“Hurugh! Ohh, what the fuck…?!” Unlike Mike, Jerry’s father remained standing even after Gerald dive bombed into his chest. However, despite his stronger will, he was unable to stop the tidal wave that crashed over his body. His broad arms gripped the door frame for support as his knees bent from the pressure. 

The invasive presence washed over him, filling him up slowly. It wasn’t unlike the first time his ex-wife had pegged him. The fear that came from being filled for the first time was matched only by the pleasure that followed. Just the thought of that night made his cargo shorts tighten. He knew that he should’ve been afraid and even outraged, but his body betrayed him in favor of the invasive presence. “M-More, please fuck me more…!” he whispered as his grip on the door frame tightened. Sweat dripped from his body as his soul let the tides carry him to a blissful and erotic rest.

“And that class,” Gerald forced his host to say, “is how you use your host to your advantage. Now, this is a more advanced technique, so don’t worry if you find it tricky at first.” Bill, Jerry’s father, was far more comfortable to Gerald than Jerry or Mike. The beefy look and authoritative voice also helped Gerald really get into the persona of a professor. It was like putting on a custom before getting into character. “But, as you can see from my improvised lesson plan, it’s possible to even chain multiple possessions in just one day! Really beats having to wait for the refractory period to end, huh?” He chuckled in Bill’s deep baritone, hands on his stomach as he felt Bill’s stolen body jiggle and quake with life. This was more like it.

And with the lesson done, Gerald now had plenty of time on his own to get familiar with Bill. Maybe Jerry and Mike would like to get involved as well…

[slutt4ellie]

Sacred Hearts Entwined

(Bare with me this is the first story i’ve ever written!)

Ellie Williams X Reader

masterslist

Part 2 -> ✞

Part 3 -> ✞

What do you do when you’re falling hopelessly in love with your childhood best friend?

Summery: You’ve been friends since 2nd grade first meeting in school. Growing up in a religious background you’ve always been taught the “right” way to think. So why are you falling in love with her..?

Warnings -> Mentions of the “d slur” / Parents are controlling / homophobia / Both extremely confused of their feelings / cheating / (lmk if I missed anything else!)

WC: 2.3k

(Did not proofread!!)

The girl who caught your eye since you were kids, Ellie Williams.

Age 6 (grade 2) -

You didn’t have much friends, after all it was only grade 2 and being popular was probably the least of your concerns, at least that’s what your mom constantly told you.

Growing up as a naturally shy kid, meant going outside of the box to talk to people wasn’t precisely your idea of “fun”! That’s why you often dissociated, it seemed easier that way? So, as soon as the bell rang for recess you would go to the back of the playground where no one else sat watching the different animals the would scale the trees while the birds would flow through the sky.

But today was a different day, as you did that normal routine a girl sat beside you, freckles that trailed all around her face and light green eyes that shined in the sun with auburn hair which ended up being almost bright red in the sun.

“Do you like watching the animals too?” She asked fairly quietly looking at her hands, you sorta look at her and nod, to nervous to talk..

Age- 7 (grade 3) -

You shortly did learn her name after that moment, Ellie Williams. To be fair you actually started learning almost everything about her. She’s an only child, loves spending most of her time doing art or playing outdoors, she’s way more extroverted then you ever could be, and she has a pet dog named Max.

You and Ellie almost spent all your time together if not at her house playing outside then you guys would be cooped up in your basement finding new board games while your mother cooked dinner for you guys upstairs. Coming out of your shell with her seemed easier then other people, she made it easy. After all she didn’t get easily bored of my shyness through the beginning.

Age 10 (grade 6) -

“Okay push!!” Ellie groans pushing a trash bin closer to the convenience store ladder which leads to the roof. “Ellie this is dumb” You say on the opposite side using your back to help her push it. “Just relax! Once we get up there, then we can practically see the whole town!” She smiles continuing to push it “But if we get caug-“ You can’t even finish your sentence before she talks “We won’t get caught!” She says as the trash bin finally reaches the end of the brick wall.

“K boost me!” Ellie smiles walking up beside you as you slowly crouch resting your back on the cold metal trash bin, you put your hands in a cuff which Ellie’s foot rest in as you lift her up. She’s not even standing on the trash bin for more then 10 seconds before the bottom gives out and she falls feet first in the bagged trash “Ag fuck! Help!” Ellie groans trying to lift herself out.

You burst out laughing not even grabbing her hands to help her up and out, but now she yells “Help me!!” You’re still cackling as she practically falls out “Eww now you smell weird!” You laugh getting away from her “Oh yeah you want a hug?” Ellie says chasing after you as you run away into the distance.

Age 14 (Freshman year) -

“It’s bullshit!” Ellie says annoyed “They didn’t care about signing us up for a catholic school for the last 10 years” Ellie says kicking in her new shoes she got for her uniform “Maybe just a change of heart” You shrug almost accepting it “You barley even care” Ellie says looking at you “Us pouting isn’t gonna change our parents mind, the decision is final now?”

“I don’t wanna even go, I look really dumb in a skirt.” Ellie holds it up disappointed “Ellie you look fine in a skirt” You sorta smile looking at her “I don’t, I rather just wear the pants.” Ellie groans sliding her hands down her face dramatically “Well I think you look good?” You say partially because you want her to stop whining about it but mainly because you mean it.

Age 15 (grade 10) -

“So you’re going with Alex then?” Ellie ask looking at you as you read a book “I mean yeah he asked it would be weird not to go?” You sorta shrug “K..? I- We just always made fun of people who went to the dances, I just didn’t except you to suddenly change?” Ellie says, she wants it to seem like she doesn’t care but she’s genuinely doing a horrible job covering it. “I guess I didn’t get the impression you cared so much?” An annoyed tone leaking through your voice.

“I don’t.” Ellie says almost coldly adding on a few seconds later. “I’m probably gonna dip, my parents want me home soon anyway.” Ellie says standing up. You sorta just wave also not in the mood it’s been a long day and you don’t wanna fight with Ellie over a stupid thing like going to the dance with someone.

16 (grade 11) -

The moment where the story starts to go downhill, well this is it. You got together with Alex a few weeks after the dance and you’ve been together all summer. Leaving little time for Ellie, and don’t get me wrong! It’s not like it’s purposefully happening, it’s just the fact that you’re both at 2 different points and spending all your time with the person you’ve previously been doing that with for 10 years isn’t exactly on your top priority list. Ellie’s also just been weird around you, she doesn’t like it when Alex is brought up occasionally sighing every time he’s even mentioned or going on about how she can’t see you guys going beyond high school. And at this point you finally talk “You say it like you’re fucking jealous?” You say a bit pissed off.

“Why the fuck would I be jealous?” Ellie claps back. “I don’t know Ellie! Please you tell me, every time I bring him up it’s like the idea of me dating someone repeals you, I don’t get why you’re not happy for me!”

“Who ever said I wasn’t happy for you” Ellie says now no longer walking so she can actually look at you in the face. “You just imply it constantly, like am I missing something, did he do something??” You say actually wanting to hear her opinion, why she hates him. Ellie chokes up though, wanting nothing to do with the real reason she doesn’t like Alex.

“Because I-“ She stops, and switches what she was going to say. “Because me and you barley hang out anymore, last summer all we did was go to each others houses and now you have 0 time for me!” She sorta yells. “Because Ellie I have a boyfriend? Did you not except us to grow up?” You now yell back, this whole argument is picking up fast. “I expected you to have the fucking decency to hang out with me once in awhile, you think i’m some girl who’s just obsessed with you and it’s getting old” Ellie says hurt that becoming evident when her voice cracks. “Ellie I didn’t say-“ You can’t finish your sentence because she talks. “It’s fine we can hang out later.” She says turning around and walking away.

To be fair half of you wants to chase after her, talk to her like you used to before you guys even started high school, but you don’t. This isn’t a movie after all.

(Present: Saturday)

You and Ellie haven’t talked in about 4 days since the little fight, the annoying part of it is the fight wasn’t even that serious, it’s just neither of you know where to start.

Throughout your friendship there’s only been a few fights, none of them being at all important, dumb stuff like you never gave each others clothes back or broke a toy. Never something like this, something that actually had meaning.

You don’t even understand why it bothers Ellie so much that you’re dating Alex, she’s your best friend, if anything she should support it, you would support her? As of now though you’re trying to do everything in your power to completely ignore the fact you guys even had a fight, as long as she doesn’t talk to you and you don’t talk to her it’s fine! Right…?

That’s at least how you thought about it, avoiding it seemed like the best situation at the end of the day because you never had to confront the problem, you did that a lot. When you were 7 and broke a glass cup, the way you solved it was hiding it in between the tiny opening between your counter and oven. Which actually ending up working..till your brother found it and immediately snitched.

Tonight though there was a perfect distraction, there was a party and half the school was going to be there, I mean it was a safe assumption saying Ellie wasn’t going to be. She hated parties, she said “It’s like a bunch of toddlers in a room, not really anything fun about that?” Which wasn’t completely false but she rarely let loose and actually drank.

Tonight’s plan was to get blackout drunk, forget Ellie, forget school, just forget everything as of now, and just hang out with the guy you loved..?

Because you love Alex how could you not?? He plays football, is popular, has a bunch of friends, treats you nice! You would be insane not to like him!! So why does everything with him feel so stale and forced? Shit now you’re thinking to much about this, Ellie is just getting in your head.

So when it was 11pm and your boyfriend Alex picked you up you made sure to make him the only thing on your mind, hanging around him, being touchy, anything to convince you that you love him. “Baby can you get me a drink” He ask smiling kissing your cheek “Yeah of course” You smile walking over to the kitchen grabbing a red solo cup filling it up with punch when as you look up, there she in. Ellie..

“Real gentleman you picked out.” Ellie says sarcastically drinking out of her red solo cup clearly tipsy if not drunk. “What..” You sigh looking up at her.. “I said real gentlemen. I mean because he’s grabbing your drinks and all!” She smiles looking at you right in the eyes.

“Why the fuck do you suddenly care so much Ellie.” You say annoyed looking at her. “I don’t care I just know you could do better..” She shrugs looking at her red solo cup the confidence disappearing after that sentence. “Who’s the magical person who’s better for me then Ellie?” You look up at her

Ellie sorta shrugs. She wants to say her but she rather skip on border school because her stupid crush on you, if her parents found out Ellie would be kicked out in a matter of seconds. “I don’t know, just someone better” you just slowly nod as Ellie finishes her sentence “Thanks for that great speech Ellie.” Ellie grabs you arm as you try and leave. “When did you start settling for low?” Ellie ask looking at you “Fuck you” You push her.

Ellie pushes you back “You’ve changed” You quickly shoot back “You act like you fucking like me!” you say probably to loud “You seem like a dyke Ellie.” You don’t even know why you said that!..well you sorta do. It was to cover your own ass, it was better to say that then “I think i’m in love with you Ellie”. Ellie almost immediately steps back and walks out which prompted you to follow “Ellie I didn’t fucking- fuck.” You can’t even finish your sentence before she’s gone, at this point you’re almost sure you just fully screwed up your whole friendship.

(Sunday 3:47am)

You can’t fall asleep knowing you called Ellie that, it was a heat of the moment and you didn’t even fucking mean it, it felt so much easier then admitting you think you love her? What if she didn’t feel the same when, then the whole school knows you like girls and next thing you know your parents find out and you’re getting sent to a border school to be “corrected”! Fuck, fuck, fuck. You get out of your bed throwing on a t shirt and sweatpants, what are you even doing??

You quickly sneak out your window and start running to Ellie’s house which is about a 7 minute normal walk. As you run up you notice that Ellie’s bedroom light is on, so sneakily climb up onto the roof, you used to do that a lot during summer after your mom would say no to a sleepover but once you climb up Ellie’s window you lightly knock on it.

After about a minute and a half she opens the window and sees it’s you almost immediately shutting it. Before Ellie can shut it though she puts her palm on the window. “Ellie can we talk” You ask genuinely nervous she might say no.. “No, i’m studying?” Ellie completely lies but she just needs a shitty excuse “Ellie it’s Sunday can I just come in. Please.” At this point it’s like your begging and Ellie eventually opens the window fully. You step in looking at her “I’m so sorry” you say almost immediately “Mhm” Ellie replies, she doesn’t wanna here stupid ass sorry’s

“Ellie” You say looking at her.

And as soon as Ellie looks up you lean forward and kiss her. Ellie moves her hands on your face and you do the same..

But that moment is cut almost immediately right after when Ellie’s father walks in..

A/N -> I hope this is okay for my first post!! I’ve been reading on tumblr for about a month now and I thought making something could be interesting. I might make a part 2 depending on if I feel like it considering this story ends on a cliff hanger 😭

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Stars Align: Part 7

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Mentions of Abuse, Violence, Angry Bradley, Sexual Themes, Alcohol, Swearing, Just Really Soppy Scenes.

-- Part 6 Here --

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

18+ Only

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

Past:

Bradley decided to skip the party that night. Michelle was getting on his nerves and he just really missed his best friend. He hadn’t spoken to you in over a week and withdrawals began to set in.

You plagued his dreams and he longed for your company, your adorable laugh to ring out when he made a really bad joke, or just to have a genuinely interesting conversation with someone who wouldn't look at him like he was looney.

All he got these days was stale conversations about the latest fashion, who slept with who, and how that guy they met at that party that one time got a fake ID.

He was growing quickly bored of this new lifestyle, and wished he’d taken the time to savour his old life when he had it. To savour you.

Bradley was finally coming to terms with the fact that he should have told you how he felt before you left, but the opportunity was now long gone and he would likely never have the chance again.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still tell you how much he cared.

“Ma, I’m home!” Bradley called as he jogged up the stairs to his bedroom.

Carole poked her head out of the kitchen, “I thought you were at Michelle’s tonight?”

“I was gonna, but I really just need to talk to Birdy.” He said as he stopped at the top of the stairs.

“Okay sweetheart, I’ll get dinner started.”

Bradley disappeared into his bedroom and shut the door, he took a deep breath as he picked up the phone.

“Hi this is Y/N, I’m not here right now. Please leave a message and I’ll get right back to you!” Your sweet voice rang over the other end, and it gave Bradley goosebumps. Simultaneously it also filled him with guilt. You kept missing one another, and it was mostly his fault.

The line beeped and he cleared his throat.

“Hey Birdy, sorry I missed your call yesterday, looks like we keep missing each other.” He chuckled sadly, cleared his throat again and sighed, “I really, really miss you, kid. Life’s not the same without you. Please call me back, I don't care what time it is, just call, I'll answer.”

He hung up and rubbed his face frustratedly.

Part of him wanted to pack a bag and catch a bus or plane over to you, but he knew it wasn’t the right time.

Not yet anyway.

Bradley looked around his bedroom for a moment, until he had an idea.

He got up and crossed the room to his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper.

If he couldn't tell you how he felt, he decided he'd write about it instead.

————————————

Present:

The weeks passed in a beautiful blur, and you were really growing accustomed to life in the little bungalow with Bradley.

He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, and he was your biggest supporter when it came to your art, which was flowing out of you with ease.

He made it hard to concentrate when he kissed your neck from behind while you tried to paint, but once he’d taken care of you, well and truly breaking the bed, that’s when some of your best work was created.

One day you were lounging in the back yard catching some sun, while Bradley did some gardening, shirtless and in his favourite jorts. The sun glistened against his tanned, sweaty body, and you couldn’t help the way your core throbbed as you bit your lip and watched his muscles ripple as he worked hard to move around a series of large stones.

He glanced over at you and caught you staring, and a wide grin spread across his face.

“Really? Like this? I’m disgusting.” He chuckled.

“I know, but it's really doing it for me. Please?” You stuck out your bottom lip and pleaded.

Bradley couldn’t resist you if he tried, especially not when you lay in such a small bikini, face flushed by the sun and lust. He straightened, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand. He sauntered over to you slowly, teasingly, and gave you a wink as he grabbed your calves, slowly sliding his hands up to your thighs and pushing your legs apart, crawling in between them.

He captured your lips hungrily and took your breath away as your hands wandered his sweaty abs.

You wrapped your legs around him and he moved his lips to your neck, and down, down, sucking marks into the valley of your breasts until he reached your bikini top. He tugged at it gently with his teeth and -

“Hellooo? Anyone home?” A voice rang out, and you pushed Bradley off of you, blushing bright red. Bradley groaned as he pushed himself up and off of your lounger.

“Who is it?” You whispered, flustered.

“Nat.” He mouthed back, then took a deep breath to calm himself. “Out here Nat!” He called. “I really need to start locking that door.”

You chuckled and adjusted your bikini. No one knew about you and Bradley yet, you'd been keeping your relationship in a secret little bubble of bliss, not keen on other peoples unwanted opinions just yet.

Nat poked her head out the back door with a grin. ''Hey guys! I did knock, but I guess... never mind.'' She could obviously tell she had interrupted something by the flushed looks on both of your faces. ''I'm heading over to the Hard Deck for a few drinks, just wanted to see if you're interested?''

Bradley looked over at you and you shrugged, ''Sounds fun to me, I just need to get changed.'' you smiled.

Bradley sighed, ''Yeah ok, can I shower first?''

_____________________________

Past:

Bradley was positively bouncing as he waited at the airport's arrivals terminal, you were finally getting off of the plane to come and stay with him for the summer, and it had been months since he had last been able to hold you, even if it was just platonic.

He craned his neck as he waited for you to arrive, growing more and more impatient by the second, until he saw your smiling face bobbing along with the crowd. You'd had to jump to see over the heads of some of the passengers, but when you spotted Bradley, you ended up in full sprint, zig zagging past everyone to get to him.

As soon as you were close enough, you dropped your suitcase and jumped into Bradleys arms. He spun you around with his face buried in your hair, and he felt as if he could fly in that moment, he was so happy.

''Oh my god, you have no idea how much I've missed you lil bird.'' he mumbled into your hair.

''I missed you more!'' you exclaimed as you pulled back and cupped his slightly less chubby cheeks to inspect him. ''I've missed you and your dumb moustache.''

Bradley chuckled as he put you down, grabbing your suitcase and your hand as he walked you to his truck.

You sang along to cheesy 80's hits and caught up on the past few months as he drove you to his house, and Bradley couldn't stop glancing over at you, thrilled that you were finally back with him, even if it was just for a little while.

''So how's Michelle?'' you asked, teasingly, ''Have you done the thing yet?''

Bradley blushed and cleared his throat as he eyed the road, ''Uhm, we broke up, and no.''

You looked over at him with wide eyes, ''Oh, I'm sorry Brad, you never said anything. What happened?''

''I took too long.'' He shrugged.

''Took too long to do what?''

''Sex, Birdy, I took too long to fuck her.'' He said plainly, a hint of humour behind his lips.

''Ah, gross, Brad. Didn't need to put it so crassly.'' You cringed, ''I am sorry though.'' you nudged him gently.

''It's okay, she wasn't right for me.''

You wanted to say 'I knew it.' or 'I told you so.', but you didn't. You didn't need to, you knew he knew.

''Why did you hold out on her? Thought you just wanted to get it over and done with.''

''I couldn't stop thinking about what you said, about the first time needing to be with someone I actually care about.''

You blushed and nodded, ''Yeah, that's sort of why I still haven't done it either.''

Bradley glanced over at you for a moment, but he said nothing, turning his attention back to the road.

Before long you were pulling up on his drive and you hopped out before the truck even fully came to a halt. You legged it inside and skidded into the kitchen, where Carole stood brewing a cup of tea.

''Carole!'' you screamed, running over to hug her.

''Oh sweat pea! I'm so happy you're finally here.'' she hugged you back and kissed the top of your head. ''It's gonna be so nice to have another woman in the house again.''

Bradley walked in and put your suitcase against the wall. He scoffed, ''You mean 'girl'.'' he said teasingly.

You shot him a glare, ''Shut up Bradshaw, I don't even wear princess pyjamas anymore.''

Carole laughed and shooed you both upstairs to unpack.

Bradley showed you to the guest bedroom and sat with you while you unpacked your things into the little chest of drawers.

''So, any boyfriends or anything your side?'' he asked as he leaned back on his elbows.

You scoffed, ''No, they're all dreadful where I live. I have got a friend though, her name's Gabby, I think you'd really like her.''

''I'm glad you're fitting in, but don't forget where you really belong.'' he sighed, laying back against the bed, his torso exposed. You pried your eyes away and forced out a chuckle.

''And where is that?''

''With me.'' he said simply.

You stopped for a moment, but then realised he must have meant physically, as in back in your home town, and you said nothing.

''Woaaah, what are these?'' You heard him say suddenly, and turned around to find Bradley fishing a pair of thongs out of your suitcase.

You gasped and snatched at them, but Bradley moved them out of reach.

''Give them back, Bradshaw!'' you swiped again, falling onto the bed as Bradley held them up high.

''Not until you tell me what they are, dental floss?'' he teased.

''Shut up, I'm not a kid anymore.'' you threw yourself onto Bradley and pinned him under you, snatching the underwear out of his hands. You looked down and you were now face to face with him as he chuckled, and your face must have looked even redder up close.

''I know you're not, Birdy, you haven't been for a long time.'' he was suddenly serious as you hovered over him.

You pushed yourself up and shoved the thongs back into your suitcase, zipping it up.

You stuck your tongue out at Bradley, ''I'll unpack the rest later. Once you're in your own room.''

_______________________

Present:

The Hard Deck was packed by the time you arrived, and Bradley took your hand as he lead you through the crowd towards the pool table at the back. You smiled as you saw the familiar group you'd come to adore over the past few weeks.

You said hi to everyone and wedged yourself in between Jake and Bob as they asked you to help settle a debate.

Bradley went to the bar and grabbed a round of drinks.

''So Baby on Board here says showering at night is better, but I say showering in the morning, so you're fresh for the day, what do you think?'' Jake drawled and took a sip of his beer, sure you would agree with him.

You laughed, ''Well, I think it depends on your lifestyle, but personally I shower at night, you're not gonna get dirty or sweaty while you sleep, and if you do I'd suggest a morning shower. But the way I see it is if you shower before bed, then you're all soft and clean and sleep better, and should still be clean in the morning for the day ahead. If you only shower in the morning, by the time you go to sleep you'll be all gross again.'' You shrugged and Jakes face fell, he looked defeated. Bob hooted and gave you a high five.

''I'll have you know, I do get very dirty and sweaty at night, so I'll stick to my mornin' showers thanks.'' Jake said sarcastically, and sauntered off. You and Bob laughed, and he rolled his eyes.

''Last week I lost the debate, so it's only fitting I win this one.'' Bob grinned. ''So, how are...things?''

You blushed and lowered your voice, ''Good, really good, but no one else knows. Can you just keep it between us three for now?''

''You got it.'' he smiled.

You found it difficult to act normal around Bradley for the rest of the evening, having to catch yourself from flirting with him out in the open, and he kept finding himself staring at you across the room for prolonged periods of time before having to remind himself that no one knew.

You were tempted to pull him into a bathroom stall, but as packed as the bar was, you knew someone would notice.

You were sat on a stool as Nat told you an embarrassing story about Jake, who stood not far away trying to convince you that she was telling it wrong, when you noticed Javy's face drop. He immediately stopped his game of darts, and tapped Jake on the shoulder, whispering something in his ear.

Jake looked over and sighed, you couldn't see what they were seeing from your seat, but Jake made his way over to you and leaned over so only you and Nat could hear him.

''Heads up, chickadee, Alice just walked in.''

Your heart began to thud, but you smiled a calm smile and nodded. ''Thanks Jake, where's Bradley? We should probably let him know.''

''Not sure, I'll go find him.'' He patted you on the back gently as he walked off to find Bradley, and you went back to your conversation with Nat, trying to push the fact that Alice was more than likely still unhappy and would be looking to pick a fight with you or Bradley.

You and Nat laughed along to her reminiscing about the days before she was friends with Jake.

''Anyway, so then when I pointed it out to Hangman, he acted as if he didn't do it, and he tried to...'' she suddenly trailed off, distracted by something over your shoulder, or rather someone. She frowned as she stood from her seat.

''What?'' you asked as twisted in your seat, but just as soon as you had turned around, you wished you hadn't. It was if you were inside a horrible, realistic nightmare. You thought you were going to be sick.

Your breath was knocked from your lungs and you stumbled off of your seat, tears prickling in your eyes as you blinked rapidly and fought to breathe.

''Hey pretty girl. It's been a while.''

__________________________________

-- Part 8 Here --

Taglist now open 💛 please let me know if you'd like to be added!

@dizzybee03

@lucyjenniferx

@xoxabs88xox

@pinkpantheris

@italk2god

@shanimallina87

@knight-of-the-doctor

@legolastheleafyelf

[cherrysurf]

when the stars collide | k.bokuto x reader

chapter 2; the day we meet

guess who wrote more than 300 words this time (me lol)

After your 11 o'clock econ class you headed down to the stadium to start preparing for the mural, the deadline was in 2 weeks, besides this being on display and looking amazing on your art profolio it was paying you a decent amount which was more than enough to keep you motivated. Your plan for the piece was to create a montage of the best players in the msby league (past n recent) and the stadium in the background, on your way to the stadium you headed into the cafe to grab a quick lunch to eat on your break. You make it to the gates and show them the id they gave you to come n go as you please without any hassle. It felt cool in a vip sorta way but it was just for work so it was whatever. You walk to the area where you're supposed to design the mural and set your stuff up ready to being, you brought your sketchbook as it had the reference you were going off of for this, you drew it in colored pencil not that long ago to really grasp your idea on what you wanted to convey on the wall. As you sit there on the floor eating while adding a few more notes to your sketch, you feel someone’s bag hit the back of your head “ouch?!” you say looking up, finding a tall buff slivered a white haired man, “oh my gosh i’m so sorry i totally didn’t see you there i’m in a rush right now, I'm sorry again. I gotta go head practice before the coach yells at me!” he says taking a small glance at you before running off not fully capturing you or what you were doing. “ugh how rude.” you said underneath your breath chalking it up to stupid baseball players being stupid and ignorant, sure he apologized but he didn’t take his time doing it, he just brushed it off how insignificant of him. You chose to calm down and not let it affect you before it completely ruins your artist flow, the next two hours you start the outline on the wall feeling accomplished by the ruff sketch of it right now. you pack up and happen to see the boys’ baseball team still practicing and you notice the silver and white haired man yet again and scoffed on your way out the stadium, as you drive home to your small but cozy apartment you can’t help but think about the situation that happened today and feel like how you did back in highschool when people would purposely do that to you all the time. It wasn’t easy being you, I mean constantly having your eyes on your sketches, not going out, and not typically being focused on regular highschool activities. So you have no friends really but you didn’t mind you were more worried about your future as an artist more than anything else so it was all going to be worth it right? right. you snap out of the moment and finally arrive home, you shower and get ready for the night. As you sip tea and do your regular classes assignments on your laptop as your white fluffy cat curled up to you, mango was the only real friend you had. Your mom got her for you a couple months before you graduated highschool and she’s been stuck with you ever since, and you didn’t live in the doors so you didn’t have to worry about not being able to keep her. She was the only real company you had and you preferred it that way. as you put away your laptop and tea cup you head to bed sleeping all those bad feelings away.

taglist; @heartmaddie @twiishaa @cretenu

[myseungsunglove]

Life’s not Easy | Hjs

Pairing: Han Jisung x reader

Warnings: none, really. Maybe a tad bit angsty, but honestly just real.

Word Count: 570

𖠫Summary: You understand what Han needs more than anyone really has before. He can be 100% himself with you and you just get it.

✎WIP✎: I’ve got a few things going:

The Art of Meeting - Chan x reader - The master of Flirting Pt. 3 - The reader and Chan are finally going to meet! — I’m thinking this may be a little delayed. Not sure I can get it out this week.

What do you even know - Seungmin x noona!reader - the reader falls for Seungmin over the course of many years but figures he could never feel the same way about someone three and a half years older than him.

Holding You - a potential Seungmin or Han x reader story with no particular plot yet

The Desire to Connect - Prologue to “The Master of Flirting” - this would be a Chan POV story of how he noticed the reader in bubble and finally decided to reach out to her on instagram where our story “The Master of Flirting” started.

A/n: when I’m sleepy, ideas flow. Sometimes they’re good. Sometimes they’re bad. I don’t know what this is, but maybe someone out there will enjoy it.

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

「© August 27, 2023 by mysweethannie」

If Han had learned anything in his short 23 years of life, it was that life was not easy. Very few people truly understood what he meant when he said that. They were on the outside looking in and from there, why would someone like Han Jisung believe that life was not easy? From an outsider’s perspective, he had it made. Talent flowing out of everything he did, wild raging success, a group that loved him like family, fans that adored him. What could be so hard about that?

You were the first person to really see Han. To really make him feel like he couldn’t hide behind his heart shaped smile and warm belly laugh. He couldn’t fool you like he did so many others. And boy did he try.

It’s not that you were always looking for a problem where there wasn’t one. It was just that you saw the loneliness and the burden where others did not. You saw how sometimes, not always, there was an emptiness behind the jovial smile. Han so often brought a room to life, but he was doing that for everyone else. It was rarely for him. He never put himself first.

So, you stood in his stead, putting him first where he failed to. When he would leave the recording studio after a day of being on the entire time, he could come home to you, not say a word and just lay in your arms. He didn’t have to recall every detail of every minute if he didn’t want to and you never felt neglected or left behind as a result. You understood the need to completely disconnect, so often you’d both lay in peaceful silence after a long day, Han’s arms wrapped around you or vice versa and just exist. You’d sometimes sing to him, maybe something you’d been working on for your next release, or something that you knew he loved. Other times, you’d put on Howl’s and let it play in the background while you both drifted off to sleep.

Some days he’d come home and he’d immediately kiss you hard, his tongue and body telling you everything he needed without words as he pressed himself against you as if he was trying to melt into you. You were his safe place, and sometimes connecting with you after a day away from you was his best medicine. His tongue would push into your mouth, his need to taste you desperate. He’d whimper and moan as he kissed you, all the while in complete control until he had you moaning beneath him. He may not be in control in so many other ways, but here with you, that control he needed desperately especially on those days that life felt like it was spiraling. So you’d give him all the control. You trusted him and he trusted you.

Other days still, he’d come home, jovial and talkative and you could tell it wasn’t just for show but it was genuine. These days were often, but they weren’t always. They were mixed with all of the other days because at the end of the day, Han was still human. No one ever felt 100% on all the time. He understood that about you and you understood that about him. It’s why you worked so well together.

Life’s not easy but with you by his side, it sure becomes a lot more bearable.

[mousy-nona]

All of God's Angels p. 2

I think you will like His newest creation, Gabriel mused. I’ve foreseen a challenge for you. An equal. A partner, tall and beautiful and terrible, and crowned in red. // Or Lucifer tries his damned best to ignore Gabriel's prophecy, then finds Alastor after Extermination Day.

All parts up on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53800450/chapters/136173307

Lucifer was Not Impressed by his supposed perfect match. 

As he watched Alastor toss a few grunts into his mouth with a glee that Lucifer could only describe as satanic, he broke his resolution to never pray again for the second time in a row and sent a quick message up to Heaven.

Dear Father, he beseeched – nay, begged – Dear Father, for the love of all that is unholy, please let it be someone else.  

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was another false alarm, like Lilith had been. Hell was full of red-faced bastards, and as much as he hated to admit it (and as Alastor had so smugly reminded him), most of them were taller than he was. Not Alastor tall, of course, but Gabriel had never specified ye verily, thy fated companion shall be approximately seven feet high, if thou art judging by the imperial system. 

(Curse that stuffy excuse for a messenger pigeon! If he hadn’t been so annoyingly vague, Lucifer wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place!) 

But there was something about the demon that made him think this time – this time would be the one that stuck. 

Maybe it was the way the demon seemed to have an uncanny sixth sense for knowing exactly how to get under his skin. He’d picked on his height, which was a low (ha!) blow, but then he’d honed in on his one true weakness with a swift, savage efficiency even Lucifer had to admire. Within less than a minute, he’d focused all his witty one liners on his relationship with Charlie – or lack thereof. 

Maybe it was the thrill that crept up his back as they fired insults at each other – “that’s why they call it the ‘Has-Been Hotel’!” “It was actually my idea!” – and Alastor didn’t once miss a beat. He returned each one of Lucifer’s barbs with a grace and silky condescension that made his own retorts look clumsy by comparison. He was excited in a way he hadn’t in years, filled with an electricity that could have been hate or delight or anything in between. 

Most importantly, he felt alive . Awake and alert. And when he placed his hand on the apple topping his staff, he felt it vibrate the way it had that first morning, and his mouth filled with the crisp, clean sparkle of potential.

It almost tasted like static. 

It was all too much for one day and Lucifer – the Prince of Darkness, the Morning Star, the Light Bringer – retreated. In front of a former human. 

Time flowed differently for a being that had existed since before the creation of the world. A blink of an eye could last a decade, or it could last a heartbeat of a second. He’d forced himself to get better at keeping track after Charlie’s birth, knowing time didn’t misbehave for her like it did for him. Being a father meant not wanting to miss a single moment – a lesson he’d learned the hard way. 

It was a mark of how badly Alastor had shaken him that he forgot all of his self-imposed rituals. He didn’t set the alarm at night. He didn’t mark off the days on the calendar. He didn’t even bother to darken and brighten the room to match the cycles of Hell. In the half-submerged gloom of his circus tent, surrounded on all sides by mountains of fire-breathing duckies, he could freak out in peace and quiet as the hours slid by like endless grains of sand.

That was why he didn’t realize what day it was until it was almost too late. 

If it wasn’t for the half-dead angel that crashed through the main hall, he might have missed the whole thing altogether. For the first time in days, his mind was strong and clear as he stared at the cherubim twitching on his floor. 

Extermination Day.

Charlie.

It was as if he’d mainlined a lightning bolt straight into his veins. He didn’t bother with a portal. He didn’t even bother to think. His six great wings unfurled and carried him towards the hotel faster than sound itself. And perhaps he hadn’t fallen out of favor after all, because he got there just in time to whisk Charlie out of harm’s way. Adam’s beady little eyes widened when he saw who it was.

Lucifer was so giddy with relief that he couldn’t resist a few jabs as he flew circles around the First Man. Adam fought to keep up, stuttering and spitting out profanities as he struggled to come up with a single clever comeback. 

“You’ve really let yourself go since Eden,” Lucifer couldn’t help but remark, rather sadly. What a shame – even after a millennia, Adam still possessed the conversational skills of a rock. What the Hell were they teaching the humans up there? Less than a few minutes had passed, and he was already growing bored of this exchange. He found his attention drifting to a far more enjoyable battle of wits from a few days ago…

Speaking of which, where was Alastor? 

He was distracted by Charlie, always Charlie, who transformed into a form he’d never seen before to stop Adam’s charge with one hand. An almighty rage that had lain dormant in him since the Fall reared its ugly head, and for a moment, all other thoughts were wiped from his mind. 

He dares? This pathetic, empty excuse for a human being dares threaten my Charlie? 

It was only later, after the battle, when there was time to talk and mourn for the fallen, that he heard Alastor hadn’t been seen since his battle with Adam. 

Alastor…fallen to Adam? It made logical sense, of course – as powerful as Alastor was, he was only an Overlord, and a young one to boot. Adam had had the entirety of human history to strengthen his power, and the angels had afforded him special abilities due to his status as the first human to enter Heaven. But still his mind struggled to comprehend it. It was like trying to understand how a Neanderthal had beaten an elegant war machine. 

A Neanderthal with a huge angelic blaster gun, he groused as he magicked a wall of timber into being. It was a good thing he hadn’t seen Alastor fall — he didn’t think he would have been able to stop himself from gutting Adam with his two bare hands if he had.

But at the same time, his limbs were suffused with a strange sense of relief. If Alastor had been taken out so easily, there was no way he was his fated companion. This was a good thing. A blessed turn of events. His equal match was still out there somewhere, and with any luck they would be free of unsightly defects like pointy teeth and cannibalistic tastes and a predilection for sadism. He was free! 

(So why was his chest aching so much?)

Then Alastor deigned to show his face, his smile as sharp as ever, his suit impeccably pressed, and Lucifer felt his heart beat again. Charlie and the rest of the hotel (except for Husk – strange, that) pressed in to touch him, to hug him, to bask in his strange enigmatic presence. To the untrained eye, he looked as good as new, as if he’d risen from a restful nap instead of a grueling battle. 

But Lucifer had spent the past few days agonizing over this demon. Going over every last detail in his mind until his features were firmly etched into his memory. And he knew, he knew something was wrong. There wasn’t any outward sign that gave it away – Alastor was even better at hiding pain than handing it out – but there was something in the careful way he slipped out of Charlie’s overenthusiastic embrace, the millisecond twitch of his shadow, the grin that was a shade too large that set Lucifer’s teeth on edge.

He’d ignored signs before. He’d tinkered on ducks and stupid useless things as Lilith had disappeared into the ether. He’d missed half of Charlie’s teenage years on projects that he couldn’t even remember. He wasn’t going to repeat the same mistakes again.

He ushered Charlie and Vaggie up to bed, insisting they take the master, brushing away their worried suggestions – “but we should help you get unpacked!” and “are you sure you’ll be able to find your room okay?”

He slipped Cherri a twenty to make herself scarce, and he made pointed suggestions to Husk and Angel Dust about where they could find some of the truly good booze back at his palace. His heart warmed a little as he watched Angel Dust slip a not-so-sneaky arm around Husk’s shoulders and bring him in close. Husk’s hard facade cracked a bit, his lips quirking up a bit as he pretended not to notice it. 

He couldn’t find Niffty or figure out where the odd creature slept at nights (did she even have a room?), but he figured she knew Alastor well enough by this point to leave him alone. 

Preparations complete, Lucifer ascended the staircase. At the top floor, instead of going left, towards his rooms, he took a deep breath and turned right. The hall got progressively darker as he closed in on the menacing radio tower. The shadows were deep here. They breathed and pulsed, as if he’d stepped into the maw of some giant beast. The air was humid, heavy with old mud and the ghostly aroma of a thousand dead bodies. 

It felt like Alastor was all around him, pressing against his bare skin, invading his lungs. A thrill went down his back as he raised his hand and knocked, just once. It sounded muffled in the damp and the dark. 

“Yes?” The radio static was so heavy he could hardly hear Alastor under it. He got as close to the door as possible.

“It’s me.” He didn’t say who it was. Alastor knew. 

There was a pause. “And what does the King of Hell want with a lowly facility manager at this late hour?”

Again, the tone of his voice crackled and popped, as if it was going in and out of signal. It sounded…weaker this time. Suddenly gripped with concern, Lucifer wrapped his hand around the knob and –

“DON’T.” 

The high frequency static ripped through the air like a sonic blast. He winced as a ringing in his ears momentarily knocked him off balance. Something wet dripped onto his shoulder. He swept his finger across it, surprised when it came up red. Alastor had burst his eardrums. 

That nasty, annoying, hard headed–!

“Okay, no more Mr. Nice Demon,” he muttered under his breath. Louder, so Alastor could hear him, he announced, “I’m coming in!”

He threw the door open. Or tried to, at least. Neon green threads made it impossible to open it more than a crack. He could slice them open, of course, but he didn’t really want to strain Alastor any further. 

“Are you serious?” He exclaimed, just a few seconds away from stomping his foot like a little kid. He wouldn’t let Alastor get the satisfaction of pushing him to such depths. “Something’s going on with you, don’t try to deny it. I can help. So let me in.” 

“Why?” The static had abated a bit, enough so that Lucifer could hear Alastor’s true voice. It sounded tired, as if their little exchange had exhausted him.

Because I might have been waiting for you since Creation Day. Ha! That would scare him off for good. Besides, it wasn’t like he was sure Gabriel had been talking about Alastor. No reason irritating them both before he was sure of it. 

“For Charlie,” he said simply. It was half-true. He might have been willing to help the irritating demon for his daughter’s sake even without this accursed prophecy. Maybe. 

To his surprise, the glowing green threads fell away, and the door swung open. The room was darker even than the hallway. He couldn’t see a thing. He stepped inside, flinching when the static washed over him again, as sharp as a slap. 

“Stop there.” 

“How am I supposed to do anything from here?” He asked, frustrated at the unbending wall of darkness in front of him. 

“Look. But do not touch.” 

A swarm of fireflies blinked into being, and Lucifer raged. 

[lingering-42-long]

Idk how many more ideas I have left in me lol

Request - König OR Rodolfo Parra x F! Reader [fluff]

Prompt/Idea - They're always writing poems/drawing stuff but they've lost inspiration. That's until they meet the reader on base or outside of the base, and immediately they begin to write/draw about them. The reader notices them and tries to talk to them, but they freak out and walk away, just for the art piece to fall out of their book. The reader picks it up and smiles

An Artist’s Muse

König x f! reader

I loved the idea of both so I may do another for Rudy. If this gets 20 likes I’ll do a Rudy version!

Sorry I have been inactive, I didn’t have any writing juice in me…. This is a short but sweet story. I changed it up a little bit because I didn’t read the full thing and I should’ve lol. I still think this is super sweet.

Warnings: none, fluff

Scenario: when König meets his girl for the first time, he gets the sudden urge to open his sketch book to draw.

Austria was a beautiful place with scenery that rivaled even some of the best locations anywhere else in Europe or America for that matter. König believed it wholeheartedly. This was his home where he grew up with his father and mother on their farm. He loved it here, though he hated the people of his town to some degree. But here he was sitting in another local area in a small café right outside of the main street. He was away from his obligations for a few months. He needed some time to recover and some time to rest. Just to be by himself.

One of his favorite past times was art. Growing up his mother sent him to an art school where he fell in love with art. He enjoyed doing a large variety of different things ranging from acrylic to oil watercolor and sketching with pencils and pens. He was a natural talent and everyone believed that he had a knack for it. He even entered a few of his pieces into a few contests and even one a little bit of prize money here and there. One might think that he would’ve chosen a path dealing with something in art for his career but he needed some thing else to channel his aggression, while art was a good way to relax, he still needed some thing else to fuel his mind.

As he was sitting, trying to think of some thing to draw, anything would be good at this point, he heard the door chime from where he was at his table. The café wasn’t usually busy at this time of the day but there were the occasional people that would be going back-and-forth ordering drinks or grabbing a quick bite to eat before heading off to another meeting or leaving to go do some thing. He didn’t like going during the times that were a little busy. As he took a sip from his coffee, he looked up to see a girl. This made him almost choke on his hot beverage, to him she was beautiful. Her hair flowed gracefully over her shoulders and her beautiful eye sparkled as she was trying her hardest to speak to the barista in his native tongue of German. It wasn’t good he wouldn’t lie but he could see the effort that she was trying. Thankfully the barista also knew English and help the girl out order her drink. König wanted to hide and not be seen. Out of all the days an angel had to land on this one particular afternoon.

The girl sat in a table next to a window across from him. She had brought a book to read and seems to be enjoying the hard cover. Inspiration hit him hard. Carefully pulling out his sketchpad once again, he began quietly working away every once in a while taking a quick glance in her direction just enough to remember features before sketching more on the page.

She stayed only for an hour before getting up, finishing her coffee, putting it in the trash, and waving goodbye to the baristas. He wanted to go after her, to show her what he had done so far, but he knew that would be awkward for both of them. She might think that he was stocking her and the last thing he wanted was to startle her. He was now pretty grumpy about the whole thing. All he wanted to do was to give her his drawing of her and hopes of asking her if she wanted to grab coffee soon, but now his chances were ruined because he didn’t have the courage to ask. He groaned and lightly hit his head against the table. He hated his social awkwardness, he always did. He just wanted the courage to go up and ask her.

Sighing, he picked up his equipment and put them back into his bag before he to finish this coffee and left for the day. As he walked out, he wanted to see if he could spot her anywhere on the street, but it was like she vanished. There was no trace of her. Cursing to himself quietly, he made his way to his car to head back to his families homestead.

3 weeks later

It has been three weeks since König had seen her and he finally lost hope in her coming back. Once again, he was sitting at his favorite table trying to come up with some idea to sketch some thing else outside of this memory of this mysterious girl. As he was about to give up, the door opened again and the same girl came back. She was talking to the barista about how she had made a trip to the capital city with some of her friends for school before ordering herself another cup of coffee and walking to the table where she sat last as she once again opened her book and began reading. König wasted in no time sketching out the finishing touches to her.

She got up to use the restroom and left her book open to the page where she was at. Taking in all of his courage, König stood up and with the paper in his hand, carefully placed it in her book where she was reading before hastily making his way back to his table hoping that the shadows hit him well enough for her not to notice. A part of him was praying that she would find him and talk to him and another part of him dreaded the idea of being caught.

When the girl came back she saw the paper and looked over it. A small blush formed over her cheeks as she quickly scanned the room for the person that could have done this. Her eyes landed on König, Who was fidgeting with his pencil sharpener, too nervous to look up. She closed her book and walked over to him.

“Did you do this?” She asked

König looked up and nodded shyly.

“It’s very beautiful.” The girl smiled, “Thank you for making me your muse.”

“O-oh no problem! You are very b-beautiful and I wanted to capture your radiance.” König Wanted to be run over by a truck. He sounded so cliché and stupid.

The girl blushed and gave a light laugh, “Well your not too bad yourself. I’m (y/n) by the way.”

“König.” He applied alittle to quickly and abruptly, but the girl didn’t seem to take notice of this.

“Conich?” She tried to say his name on her tongue.

“König.” He made the syllables a lot more clearer for her to hear.

“Con…Kön…ing…. König?” She asked looking at him if that was how she needed to say it.

The man grinned happily “Yes! Good!” He felt like there was a million butterflies just dancing around in his stomach. It made him happy and wanting to throw up all at the same time. Was this love? He felt at once a long time ago in his youth only to have it be betrayed on him.

“Well König, it was nice meeting you, your really good at this, you made my day…. Well I will see you around.”

“W-wait!” He stood up a little too fast making the table bump against his legs and the chair creek behind him. “Ummm…. I was wondering if you would like to grab some coffee sometime… if not I understand.” He couldn’t look at her directly. And fiddled with his hands as he was trying to come up with a sentence without sounding like an idiot or a creep.

(Y/n) just smiled and nodded “sure I would love too… tomorrow same time?” She asked.

“Ja… that would be good.” He nodded vigorously.

“Ok König I will see you tomorrow.” The girl blushed and walked back over to her table to finish reading her book with the paper in her hand. König practically collapsed back into his chair, he could hear his heart beating in his rib cage harder than it had ever beated before.

He got up after a little bit of calming himself down, to leave. He waved shyly back at (y/n) and she returned the wave smiling back at him making the tall man blush even more, as he made his way to the door. Once he got back into his car, he stared blankly at the roof trying to collect some thought that was flowing through his head that came up empty. Did he really just find a girl and was able to win her over with just a silly piece of art? Surely he couldn’t be that talented in doing that the only time he ever seen that happen was through films. He prayed to whatever was listening to him, that this would be the one for him, the one person who he had been searching for.

[leviathanlazarus]

Smother the Flame in Your Heart - Part XXIV

Read previous parts here or read on Ao3 // Playlist

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~4700

Warnings: a little angst, some mild sexual content

Well, my friends, we've made it to the last chapter. I never know when I'm going to end a fic, I just feel it out, and once the idea for this chapter kept rolling through my mind and growing, the definitive conclusion just seemed so right. I can't believe we've been following these two (three if you include Jake lol) since October! I love writing series so much and this is my first complete Danny x Sam series <3 I do have thoughts about reviving Gold Isn't Everything, if any of you remember my cowboy AU slash series...anyway, thank you all for reading and commenting and supporting! Vampire Danny x Juice Box Sam forever <3

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Things were tense despite both of their best efforts. Danny remained on edge–it made him flighty and uncomfortable, and his stress rubbed off on Sam like a rash. Sam had been trying to make Danny feel better–feel more assured and safe. Nothing he tried was working. 

One silver lining was, Sam had been looking for an excuse to get away anyway, and Danny’s ongoing anxiety about being “caught” in Detroit motivated him to make a plan. Originally, it was just going to be the two of them camping–pitching a tent, hiking, tending a fire, cooking and drinking out in the woods was always something Sam looked forward to once nicer weather rolled around, and it would be the first time he got to do it with Danny. But of course, once the twins caught word of his plan they latched onto it and invited themselves. Sam had tried to protest but it was Danny who actually agreed that they should join. Sam wanted to protest that too, but ultimately decided that if his vampire boyfriend needed all of the distractions, so be it. He’d deal with it. Just as long as they had separate tents.

They went up north, where the groves of pine trees and fir trees became so thick and full that the dense green of them seemed endless; birch trees also surrounded their campsite, which was hardly anything more than a choppy section of grass and a crude fire pit in the middle. There was barely enough room for the two tents but they made it work–just enough, anyway. At least there was a creek flowing behind the site–that would help with some noise cancellation, Sam thought, because the entire drive he’d been thinking about how badly he wanted Danny to fuck him in their tent. Well, before the twins integrated themselves, he wanted to fuck Danny right on the dirt in front of the fire pit. A forcibly quiet handjob in their tent wasn’t as alluring, but he’d have to take whatever he could get.

He was a little nervous about all of it, he had to admit to himself. A little day trip to Detroit with walls of art to keep them mentally occupied was one thing–a camping trip where all of them were so together was another, and Sam’s thoughts kept drifting to Jake. He had no concerns about where he stood with Danny–he was confident that he really was Danny’s one and only–but he still had concerns about where Danny stood in Jake’s mind. They hadn’t really talked about it. Sam had just decided he no longer cared. But he did. Just a little. 

He certainly cared enough to intercept when Jake proposed a hike with just him and Danny, intending to leave Sam and Josh behind. No way was Sam ready for that to happen so, despite actually wanting to hang back at camp, strip down and explore the creek rather than a trail, he turned it into a whole group thing.

Josh led the way, a dislodged tree branch that he’d found not long into their journey fashioned as a walking stick. It was a hot afternoon and Sam could already see the sheen of sweat on the back of his brother’s neck, beads dripping down behind his ears. Sam was sweating too, even more so because he kept having to swat mosquitoes away. Jake, on the other hand, looked perfectly at ease each time Sam looked back at him trailing behind and it was pissing him off. 

He also kept trying to walk in step with Danny, but Danny and Sam were walking together and there wasn’t much room leftover on the trail. So it was easy enough to keep Jake away from the two of them then, like Sam was keeping those mosquitoes at bay, but after the four of them ascended up a slightly rocky hill, the trail widened. Jake shuffled up to meet Danny’s side faster than Sam could even realize, too busy trying to catch his breath.

Whatever. It’s not like anything was going to happen as long as he was there, Sam decided, and it’s not like anything would happen anytime, anywhere regardless. Still, it was so annoying to have Jake fumble his way into their space and into their conversation. Eventually, he took Danny over entirely; Sam paused to wait up for Josh, who had fallen behind once he’d stopped to tie one of his boots, and scoffed.

“What?” Josh asked, and his unnecessary cluelessness only annoyed Sam more.

“Look!” Sam hissed quietly, gesturing at Danny and Jake hiking along, moving further up the trail without a care in the world.

Josh did look, then sighed as he laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Ah. Well, let’s move it along, Samuel. God forbid those two get out of your sight for even a single second.”

“I just want one day without an issue,” Sam said, keeping his voice hushed to a level the other two wouldn’t hear, though the birds and insects in addition to Danny and Jake’s own conversation were already doing a fine job of that. “I spent months trying to get Danny to be exclusive with me in that way. Then Jake decides he wants to bang my boyfriend–great!” Sam huffed as he tripped a bit over a root. “Now Danny’s all paranoid because of what happened at the museum. We planned this trip to get away from it all for a bit but you two just had to ruin that too.”

“Danny invited us,” Josh said, so matter-of-factly that it almost sounded smug to Sam, but before he could verbally retaliate, his brother went on: “I think you need to just take a step back and remind yourself that Jake and Danny are friends–as a matter of fact, we’re all friends–and if you can’t trust your boyfriend, you’ve got bigger problems.”

“It’s never been about me not trusting Danny–”

“I think it is,” Josh interrupted, catching Sam’s eye as they trudged onward, the heat graciously calmed for a moment by a cool, languid breeze. “Because you can’t chill out about it, and Jake hasn’t done a thing that you haven’t let him do.”

Sam clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth. He wanted to argue, but maybe Josh was right. All this time, his focus had been entirely on Jake and how he didn’t trust his brother, but what was really stopping Sam from not trusting Danny just a little bit? Sam had, as he’d reiterated to Josh, had to deal with Danny being intimate with other people for months. Not sex, not while they were together, Sam knew that, but it didn’t matter how little Danny had done with those people–he’d done something with each of them. Even the mere thought of Danny flashing his flirtatious, seductive eyes at someone else filled Sam with envy and rage.

Danny wasn’t really thinking much of Jake being by his side during the hike. He was just happy to have all the extra company–Sam was amazing, of course, and he had no opposition to a camping trip with just the two of them. But when the twins expressed their interest, he’d invited them along without even thinking. Jake was a calming presence and offered a lot of intrigue–he shared things about literature and music that Danny didn’t know. He always felt like he learned something new from their conversations. And Josh was funny, vibrant and refreshing to be around because he was the only one totally unbothered, or Danny guessed perhaps just uninterested, in the vampire aspect of his life. Josh knew about it but didn’t care one way or the other–Danny had never encountered that before. In his experience, people were either terrified at the realization or they were entranced, like Sam and Jake.

He intrinsically knew that Sam didn’t just like him because he was a vampire, but sometimes Danny’s brain itched at him to think about that anyway. Because really, what would have brought them together and made them stay together if he hadn’t been such a wild fascination for Sam? When the twins had told Danny that Sam had never really had a best friend before, certainly not a boyfriend, that had soothed his soul a bit–but Sam had had girlfriends. Quite a few, apparently, whereas most of Danny’s experience had been short-lived and stale or, later on, only because he needed to eat. 

“You really don’t mind that we’re here?” Jake asked, steering Danny away from his increasing doubt. “Josh and I?”

“Not at all.” Danny flinched as a deer fly tried to assault his neck–he swatted it away and looked ahead at the next hill they had to climb, even more steep and rockier than the last one. “I like that it’s all of us here. I haven’t gone camping in a really long time. It’s nice to be with a group.”

“Your family doesn’t go?”

“They do. I just haven’t gone with them the last few times.”

“Oh.”

Jake sounded so dejected on his behalf that Danny felt compelled to say, “I should go with them next time. Now that I’ll be getting some confidence in my camping skills back.”

“You should,” Jake agreed, panting a little as they began to ascend the new hill. 

Danny had to focus on his own breathing–the incline was sharper than what he was accustomed to from the flatness of the rest of the state, and the rocks of varied sizes and sharpness made it imperative to watch only the way his feet were moving and where to step next. 

He was listening to Jake begin to say something about what they might cook for dinner when the sentence was interrupted by a grunt and a sudden low, dense thud–Danny looked to his side and Jake was no longer standing there. He was down on the ground, with one knee cocked, the whole leg a little twisted, and both of his hands flat against the rocks, like he just face-planted into the hill.

“Damn!” Josh called out from behind as Danny snapped into action. He crouched down beside Jake, who was slowly turning over to sit up.

“Jesus, Jake,” Sam said, and soon enough both of Jake’s brothers had circled him and Danny.

Jake’s knee was skinned and gouged. He groaned as he inspected the wound, attempting to use his hands before seemingly noticing for the first time that his palms were bleeding too. “This is what I get for wearing shorts.”

The breeze carried the scent of Jake’s blood straight into Danny’s nostrils as he crouched beside him. He realized how incredibly rare it was that he ever just got to smell blood like that, from an external circumstance and not one of his own making, and as the scent filled his nose, he could imagine the taste that he had once experienced. It made his mouth water.

“Can you walk?” Josh asked, making Danny also realize that he’d just been staring and doing nothing at all helpful.

“I think so,” Jake said, trying to get up without putting his scraped hands back on the rocks for leverage. Danny finally had a purpose then–he hooked an arm around Jake’s shoulders and aided him into a standing position, trying to ignore the scent of that blood. A shocking amount of it, really.

“We should go back,” Danny suggested, looking down at Jake’s wrecked knee again. “I brought a first-aid kit. Figured I’d need it for Sam though, honestly.”

If there was something in that kit to vanquish the jealousy Sam was feeling, perhaps he would find some use in it as well. He knew it was silly to be jealous of Danny merely helping his injured brother get up after what was sort of a pathetic and decently hilarious fall, but he still felt it. In his eyes, Danny’s hand lingered too long on Jake’s shoulder as did his gaze, even worse when Sam noticed where that gaze was lingering the most–on all the blood. 

“You guys could finish the hike if you wanted,” Danny suggested, making too-late eye contact with his boyfriend, then Josh. “Jake and I can go back and get him all sterilized and patched up.”

“No,” Sam said quickly–too quick and too sharp, he realized based on everyone’s expressions. He squared his shoulders with his hands wrapped around the straps of his backpack. “We’ll all go back.”

Back at camp, Jake sat on the bench of the picnic table next to the fire pit. Danny was on his knees in the dirt in front of him, gently wiping Jake’s knee with a damp paper towel while Jake cleaned up his own hands.

“I could do this all myself, you know,” Jake said, and Danny looked up just in time to see Jake glance over at a scowling Sam. 

“I don’t mind,” Danny told him after he tried to give Sam a reassuring look that didn’t appear to work. “I can finally put this kit to use. I’ve had most of the stuff for years but, like I said, I stopped going camping for a while there. Thankfully, I haven’t had to clean up any injuries at home lately either.” He went for the hydrogen peroxide next–Jake only winced silently as Danny dabbed that over his wound, then came the Neosporin. 

“Only because your saliva has healing powers,” Jake said softly and with a little smile. 

Danny chuckled. “Yeah. Fucking weird, right?” With the blood cleaned up from all of Jake’s little injuries, he felt some relief. Glancing over to his boyfriend again, however, he could see that Sam was still pissed. It was time to do even more damage control. 

“Are you still worried about the girl you ran into?”

Danny sighed and handed the Neosporin to Jake to use on his poor hands. “Not as much. I figure that nothing’s going to happen–it’s just been eating away at me.” Jake smiled again. “No pun intended,” Danny said with a small laugh. “I still wish I wasn’t this sometimes but there’s nothing I can do about it. As long as Sam is with me, no one else ever has to get hurt again.”

“May I remind you that you were very gentle with me, Danny. I didn’t get hurt. Sam never got hurt either.”

Danny patted Jake’s uninjured leg before he stood up. “I know. But you and Sam are the only ones who have ever wanted it. It terrifies everyone else.”

Jake shook his head, smiling, and kept his focus on his hands. “I get it, man–objectively. But you gotta remember there’s absolutely nothing terrifying about you.” Once he twisted the cap back onto the tube and put it aside, he looked up at Danny. “You’re a sweetheart through and through and Sam’s lucky to have you.”

Danny sighed again and crumpled the damp paper towels in his hands. “Thanks, Jake. Of course, he’s fucking pissed at me now.”

“Why? ‘Cause you played doctor for five minutes?” Jake looked over at Sam again, who had at least busied himself with collecting kindling, though he was obviously staying close enough to keep an eye on the two of them. Jake turned back to Danny and said, “You’ll smooth things over with him just fine. He’s a total sap for you.”

But Sam gave Danny the cold shoulder the rest of the afternoon and through the evening, so distant and frigid that Danny was lost as to how to approach him. The strange, tense quiet from him made the entire evening disconcerting–it seemed like Danny wasn’t alone in not being able to relax. Even the twins were rigid with their brother’s steady, silent anger, and Danny felt guilty knowing that if Sam was mad at one of his brothers, they would have hashed it out quickly and easily and they wouldn’t all be sitting around the fire awkwardly, like they were all just waiting to go to bed to escape.

When the twins announced they were going to settle in for the night, although it was still fairly early, Danny was still unsure of his next move. All he knew was that he needed to make things better before the morning, otherwise the whole trip would be a wash, and that wasn’t even the whole of it. So he stayed sitting next to Sam at the fire, wanting to touch him, wanting to offer all the right words, but Sam wouldn’t even look at him. 

Danny was looking up at the stars, going through the roster of nice, sweet things to say in his head as the twins tucked themselves into their tent. The flames crackled while there were also soft sounds of fabric being rustled and hushed voices; he tried to just focus on the glittering canvas above his head. Maybe he’d see a shooting star and he could wish to somehow be a normal person again.

“Why’d you have to do that?”

Sam hadn’t spoken in so long, the sound of his voice startled Danny. He brought his focus back to his boyfriend, although Sam was still looking into the fire and not at him. “Which thing?” Danny asked. “I feel like I’ve done a lot today to make you upset.”

Sam finally looked at him–or really, glared at him. “Jake could have taken care of himself. You did that on purpose.” 

Danny looked over at the twins’ tent, then motioned for Sam to lower his voice. “I chose to help him, yeah, but I didn’t do that to hurt you, Sam. I was being–”

“What?” Sam snapped, still at full volume. “A good friend?”

Danny stood up and grabbed Sam’s arm, hauling him out of the chair. “Let’s go for a walk. We’ll both feel better after you can freely yell at me without them hearing.” He was surprised when Sam didn’t fight out of his grasp and make more of a scene right there in their campsite–Danny was able to steer him out of it and onto the road, walking with only the starlight and moonlight to aid their steps. The deep darkness of the trees around them would have been a little spooky if Sam’s fury wasn’t the most frightening thing in the world.

“You know I’d do the same for you,” Danny said, which prompted Sam to thrash his arm out of his hold. 

“That’s the problem!” Sam hissed, stopping in his tracks. “You shouldn’t do the same. That should be for only me. You should let my brothers deal with their shit on their own.” Sam turned away before Danny could read his face. “I’m supposed to be the only one.”

Danny reached a hand out but dropped it after a second of letting it linger in the air, inched away from Sam’s shoulder. “You are the only one, Sammy. How many times do I need to say it?”

“It’s not just about saying it. You need to show me too.”

Danny sighed, defeated. “I show you all the time. Don’t you see it?”

“I see when you have little secret conversations with Jake. I saw the way you looked at his gross, bloody knee. I see how easily you laugh with Josh. I see everything, Daniel.”

Really, Danny just wanted to make Sam see how petulant and ridiculous he was being, because truly, none of that meant anything to him. Danny saved the most intimate conversations for just Sam; he looked at Sam like he was made of the most precious diamonds and gold; and no one ever made him laugh like Sam did. 

But what Danny actually said, the words so instinctive and raw, shocked even himself: “Sometimes I think you like feeling this way, Sam. All jealous and wound up. Sometimes I feel like you only like me because there’s one special, fucked up thing about me that ignites all those feelings to begin with.”

Sam whipped around, his eyes blazing even in the dark. “You think I only like you because you’re a vampire? How the fuck could you think that after all this time?”

“I know it’s not accurate. But sometimes it just feels that way. Just like what you think–you have to know I don’t like Jake or Josh in the same way I like you. Because I love you. But your wacky brain keeps telling you that there’s something more there.” Danny made a real move again by pulling Sam into himself, his arms wrapped around his waist tight enough to where Sam wouldn’t be able to wriggle free even if he tried. “Feelings aren’t always reality. There’s nothing there for anyone else. Not a single fucking thing, Sam. All I’ve got, it’s all for you.” 

Sam’s face softened, and Danny was surprised at how quickly, all things considered, his hard feelings were being extinguished. “I know. I know that.”

Danny smiled and tapped Sam’s temple. “Then what’s going on up here all the time, baby?”

“Bullshit. Nonsense,” Sam replied with a scoff, becoming putty in Danny’s arms. “I don’t like feeling jealous. It’s exhausting. Jake just–he makes me feel crazy. I’m afraid that he still wants you and that he’ll always still want you and I fucked up by letting that thing happen.”

“I don’t think he does. That thing you did made him see reality,” Danny told him. He was sure that the bulk of his allure had drained away on Jake’s end–he looked at Danny differently now. The mostly-hidden longing was gone from his gaze, and the covert flirting that Danny had missed before was absent. Jake was a friend, and there were no more secrets as far as he was concerned. Only perhaps the scraps of lingering heartbreak that Jake would inevitably heal from. “But if you’re so worried, talk to him about it.” 

Sam looked away, scowling. “Maybe tomorrow. You and Josh can go for a hike or something and let me talk to him.” He sighed and brought his gaze back to Danny. “I’ll admit it’s been a little while since our last heart-to-heart and we probably need to like, regroup or whatever.”

Danny smoothed one hand across Sam’s lower back. “That’s a good idea. But you actually trust me with Josh?”

“Oh, come on. We all know Josh doesn’t care.”

Danny laughed. “Oh–ouch!”

Sam wiggled in his hold. “No, not like that! He doesn’t care that you’re a vampire. There’s no hard-on for you to chomp into him and suck his blood.”

“I know, I know. Okay. Good.” Danny embraced Sam in a complete hug, resting his chin on his shoulder and smelling the smoke in his hair and the sweet blood that was running beneath his skin. “Are we good? I want us to have a fun trip, but more than that, I want you to really, totally, finally understand how much I love you and only you.”

Sam pulled back and clasped the sides of Danny’s face. With such close proximity and the faint, ghostly light from the moon, he could make out more than enough to remind him of how perplexing and bewitching Danny’s beauty was. He couldn’t really blame anyone else for wanting his boyfriend–Sam just had to keep reminding himself of how lucky he was that Danny continued to choose him. 

“I understand, Daniel,” Sam told him, inching one thumb past Danny’s lip. Danny tried to latch on, but Sam ran it over one fang instead. “Now let me show you how I love all of you. Not just this.” 

In the depths of the forest, within a small clearing beneath the waxing moon, Danny and Sam fumbled on top of their own shed clothing, hands exploring warm, bare skin. As Danny tried to match the pace and intensity of Sam’s kisses, he was rolled over onto his back with Sam straddling his hips hard, wasting no time to hump and grind in the silent and chilly night air. 

Sam did show Danny how much he loved all of him, from the top of his head where long fingers raked through his curls to the arches of his feet that tingled with anticipation as Sam’s hands gripped his ankles and stroked up his legs. Every part of him was caressed, kissed and licked–utterly ravished, totally loved. And Danny returned that same devotion once he managed to get Sam under him, his hair fanned out in the grass, the curve of his smile lit up by the moon, the soft sighs and keening moans from both of them turning into a song in the night.

“That was hot,” Sam proclaimed once they were standing again and getting dressed. He felt totally better–how silly he’d been, he thought while he watched Danny pull his shirt back over his head, how needlessly venomous. He was ready to stir that fire at camp back to full flame and sip a strong drink beneath the stars.

“Just us and the coyotes,” Danny remarked, peering out into the trees. He looked back at Sam, moving in closer. “But seriously–was this sufficient?”

Sam chuckled and grabbed a handful of Danny’s hair to tug. “Fuck yeah, it was sufficient, Daniel. I know I’m…a lot sometimes. I know jealousy isn’t an attractive quality.” He let Danny’s curls go and sighed. “But you just rile me up so goddamn much.”

Danny smiled. “I like that. I like that I do that. There’s just nothing to be jealous of–you gotta relax.” He took Sam’s hand. “Isn’t that what we’re here for?”

“You need to relax, too. There’s no one hunting you down. And even if someone were, I’d rip their head off before they got anywhere near you.”

“You would. You totally would, Sammy.”

Sam held Danny’s tight while they walked back to camp. If there were monsters out there in the black forest, he’d fight them off; whatever monstrous people existed in the world, he really wouldn’t let them get close to Danny, ever. Real monsters, Sam thought to himself while squeezing Danny’s hand, were the people who lived without a care in the world for what they did and what and who they hurt. Danny wasn’t like that at all–never was, never would be. One day, Sam would get his beloved vampire boyfriend to fully understand that, just as Danny had made him fully understand that Sam was the only person on earth for him. And Sam didn’t feel deserving–Danny was too good for him. Too pure, had too much integrity, too kind, too reasonable–Sam was a fire roaring wild and wicked, unable to be tamed. 

Or so he thought. Because in the great expanse of the woods and beneath the infinite expanse of the night sky, Sam realized that Danny had tamed him. Not because he wanted to or because he tried, but just because he was the balance Sam needed. They went together so fluidly that they were meant to be together. Sam had known that from day one. 

A lantern was still on inside the twins’ tent when Sam and Danny returned; Danny looked at Sam and asked, “Should we get them out?”

“Let’s do it,” Sam concurred, stepping over to the fire. It was still hanging on, the embers bright enough to stroke back to life. “Let’s get this party fucking started. Finally.”

Before he went to the tent, Danny went to him and planted a fierce kiss on his lips while his hands gripped his hips, sinking his teeth into Sam’s full bottom lip–just enough for Sam to whimper and a little blood to soak Danny’s tongue.

“I just wanted a little taste,” Danny told him when he pulled back, licking his lips while he wiped the blood away from Sam’s with his thumb. “Something to get me through the night.”

Sam giggled. “I like it when you’re naughty.” He reached around and smacked Danny’s ass, which made him yelp in surprise. “But you know I can be even more naughty.”

Danny laughed. “It’s not a competition.”

Sam squeezed the muscle and flesh in his hand–all his, every part of Danny. “Everything is a competition, Daniel.” 

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[rickie-does-random-stuff]

Season 1

1a: Starting Point

Zephyr Masden loved nothing more than spending his afternoons chilling on the golden beaches of Plymouth. He had been surfing for his entire life, pretty much. And by that, I mean since he and his family first moved here, which was back when he was seven, and his younger brother Caius had just turned six. Their father taught the two boys how to surf that summer, and they continued this activity ever since. Sometimes, their other friend Rowan would show up and join them. And when Rowan moved away with his family, they’d hang out with the other local Kai (Kailan Kobe, who worked at the ice cream truck. Nice guy).

Zephyr and Cai couldn’t be more different. The juxtaposition between them was striking, like night and day colliding on the canvas of life. 

Zephyr preferred to go with the flow. He was this carefree, laidback individual that just went wherever life seemed to take him, much like ocean waves that he’d often ride. Pulling him through the vast endless waters of his world, with him doing little to control where he lands.

Caius, on the other hand, never allowed any external factors to cause any ripples in his world. He created the waves and moved himself through the ocean of life. He was the “smart” brother. He was studious and disciplined. He got great grades. He was sensible and kind. He never got into trouble. All the teachers in school loved him… Zephyr couldn’t say the same thing about himself, unfortunately.

Cai always had an idea of what he wanted his life to look like. He had dreams and goals, and he’d actively push himself, working hard to get himself there.

In terms of how they went about life, they had nothing in common. But they were the best of friends nonetheless. Zephyr loved his brother more than anything. They had a strong and special bond. 

They did everything together growing up. They especially loved to surf together, and spend time on the beach. They each had their own unique surfing styles - Zephyr’s was like freestyle dancing with the ocean’s whims, while Caius, with his naturally analytical mind, had taken to surfing with an almost scientific precision. Both brothers spent years mastering the art of  harnessing the raw power of the water as they surfed. They were the yin to the other’s yang. Two halves of a perfect, harmonious whole.

But that was before Caius had to leave for AU.

Aurelian University was a fairly new educational institute. Zephyr didn’t know too much about it… but he did know that it was located on a mysterious island in Europe somewhere. And that it was relatively hard to get in… not that you needed to be a genius or anything, but you could tell they were rather picky with who they accepted (on top of having the grades, they also made you sit a bunch of entrance exams?). It was all very suspicious. Even the fact that the island itself is nowhere to be found on most maps added to the mystery of it all. Some people wondered if the place even existed.

Zephyr should have applied for university last year. At least, that’s what everybody told him. And pretty much everybody in his class had done so. But it just didn’t feel right. And sure, he didn’t get the grades to apply to the few university courses he did find interesting, but that wasn’t really anything to do with it. He just wasn’t interested in going to university. He never really had been.

Zephyr never really liked school. He wasn’t good at it. Not like Cai.

The weeks leading up to Caius's departure were tough. Zephyr kept telling himself he should be happy for his brilliant brother getting into such a prestigious school. But the thought of the endless summers spent surfing together coming to an end filled him with melancholy.

Zephyr tried not to let it get to him when Caius left for that weird university on the mysterious island. He really did. But deep down, it stung.

They had been inseparable growing up. Surfing buddies and best friends through thick and thin. No matter how different their approaches to life were, they complemented each other perfectly. Zephyr was going to miss having his straight-laced, logical brother around to balance out his carefree spirit.

The last day was by far the hardest.

"You better not forget about me when you're off becoming some big shot professor or something," Zephyr told Caius as they surfed the morning before he left.

Caius just laughed. "As if I could ever forget you, bro. Don't worry though - we'll always have the ocean between us."

Those words didn't provide Zephyr much comfort.

He and Mum dropped Caius off at the airport later that day (Dad would have come as well, but he had to go to work). As he watched his brother's plane take off, he felt unmoored, like the ocean had swept him out too far with no shore in sight.

The first few months without Caius around were really difficult for Zephyr. He tried to spend as much time as possible out in the waves, surfing until exhaustion replaced that aching loneliness. But even the soothing rhythm of the ocean seemed off without his brother riding beside him.

In the past, Zephyr could always count on Caius to ground him when he felt too adrift. Now he had to find his own anchor. Slowly, through cherishing little routines like prepping his surfboard or watching the sun rise over the beach, he started feeling steadier.

He spent more time with Kai and the usual beach crowd to keep his spirits up. Though it wasn't the same as having Caius around, at least he had good people to remind him that his free-spirited way of riding through life didn't have to be a completely solitary journey.

Zephyr knew he couldn't just tread water while his brother moved on to bigger things. He had to dive forward and pursue his own passion - allowing the ocean's perpetual motion to carry him towards his next adventure, wherever that might be.

___

Beach cleaning.

That's it. That's his latest adventure. His new life purpose.

I mean, he already spends every day at the beach. It's practically his second backyard. He may as well clean it, right? It started with just picking up litter he'd see during his daily surf sessions. He simply wanted to make the place a bit more tidy. But it grew into a habit, which grew into a deeper interest in the state of the environment.

For a while, Zephyr found purpose in beach cleaning and environmental activism. Seeing the harmful impacts of pollution and litter on the ocean he loved so much sparked a fire in him. He started organizing regular beach clean-ups and awareness campaigns in the community. Zephyr soon got passionate about preserving the pristine beauty of the oceanfront that meant so much to him. He started organizing community cleanups and lobbying local businesses to cut down on plastics.

At first, his parents were relieved to see Zephyr so passionate about something positive. "It's great that he's finally applying himself to a cause," Mum remarked one time. "I'm proud of you. It's so great to see you care about more than just catching waves."

However, Zephyr's zeal began verging into obsession. Before long, Zephyr's environmental crusading verged into extremism. He became that annoying militant vegan who wouldn't shut up about carbon footprints and zero-waste living. He started showing up at town halls and protests, ranting about unethical corporations. He was getting increasingly outspoken and never failed to call out anyone who so much as dropped a candy wrapper on the beach. He started getting into heated confrontations with beachgoers over using plastic straws or styrofoam coolers.

"Dude, chill out! It was an accident," Kai had to defuse one situation where Zephyr was berating a kid for spilling a can of Diet Coke.

Zephyr's tunnel vision when it came to environmental purity made him seem erratic and confrontational. His parents and friends grew worried about him.

"Dude, chill out. It was never that deep. You're taking this too far," Kai told him one day as Zephyr was berating him for selling ice cream in non-compostable containers.

"We're all for protecting the planet, but you need to find balance. This obsession is getting out of hand," his dad cautioned.

Zephyr just brushed them off, convinced he was righting the course for the environment and humankind, as well as himself. After all, he never felt like he had a true reason for being before - aside from things like surfing, he was never really good at anything. He never felt like he had a purpose in life, and that feeling only intensified after Cai left. This is all he had now.

He got more and more reckless in his pursuit of his cause, trespassing onto private beaches to do cleanups and once even trying to chain himself to a bulldozer demolishing the last undeveloped plot of beachfront. He got into a lot of trouble for that, but it could have been worse (a fact that didn't seem to reassure his parents all that much).

One night, about a week later, Zephyr's mum and dad tried voicing their concerns to him one last time. "We think it's great you've found a passion, but you need to find a healthier middle ground, son," his mom said gently to him.

Zephyr instantly got defensive. "Are you kidding me? The planet is dying! If no one makes changes, what kind of world are we going to end up leaving behind?"

"Your mother and I just want you to have... some direction in your life beyond this," his dad attempted. "You shouldn't put every once of your time and energy into this one thing. You're young, and you should have a life of your own and be able to have different experiences and-"

"Oh, so now caring about the environment isn't good enough 'direction'?" Zephyr fumed. "At least I'm doing something meaningful instead of just drifting aimlessly!"

The tense conversation devolved into a heated argument. Mum looked pleadingly at Caius's empty chair at the table, silently wishing that her more level-headed son was sitting there with them.

Well, all of them wished Cai was here. But he's not. Not anymore...

___

"You're ridiculous, mate," Kai told Zephyr after having to retrieve him from jail. Again. Long story.

"I have said it before, and I'll say it again - you need to chill out!" he went on. "This obsession with trying to single-handedly save the world is getting out of control!"

Zephyr opened his mouth to protest, but Kai cut him off. "Don't even start, dude. I'm all for protecting the environment, but you're taking this way too far. You need to find some balance in your life again."

Zephyr slumped in the passenger seat, knowing his friend was right but too stubborn to admit it. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

Finally, Kai spoke up again. "You know, I think deep down this is all still about missing Cai."

Zephyr's head whipped around at the mention of his brother's name. Kai gave him a knowing look.

"Ever since he left for that weird university, you've been... not quite yourself, mate. I think you're using this environmental crusading as a way to try and find your purpose, but it's just a band-aid for the real issue."

Zephyr couldn't argue with that. As much as he championed his causes, they hadn't truly filled the void Caius's absence left. He missed his brother - his surfing buddy, his voice of reason, his other half.

"Maybe..." Kai began carefully. "Maybe it's time you went and saw him at this Aurelian place. Get your anchor back, you know? It's time for you to go on a quest to figure out what you really want from life. So go. Go visit your brother at that university, and get yourself some perspective."

The idea of reuniting with Cai after months and months apart quickly lifted Zephyr's spirits. But then practicality set in. "How the hell am I supposed to get to that island, assuming it even exists? I don't have the money for that."

"Well, you'd better start figuring it out then!" Kai grinned. "Do your research, get a job or something to save up. Having a goal to work towards might be exactly what you need right now instead of just...endlessly raging at the system."

Good idea, Kai.

As soon as Zephyr got home, he started scouring the internet for any information about Aurelian University and its mysterious island location. The findings were...perplexing to say the least.

The university's website provided little in the way of concrete details, displaying only vague philosophies about "unlocking the boundless potential of the mind and spirit" through "holistic education transcending limits." Conspiracy theory message boards claimed Aurelian was a front for everything from military experiments to druidic cults.

The most useful lead seemed to be mentions of a privately chartered flight that departed from a remote airstrip in northern Scotland, intended to shuttle new students to the island at the start of each semester. But even finding the exact departure location proved challenging.

Zephyr spent weeks deep down a rabbit hole of research, corresponding with amateur sleuths who had dedicated alarming amounts of time to cracking Aurelian's secrets. He started working part-time jobs to squirrel away savings for the potential travel costs and whatever other expenditures gaining access to this place might require.

His parents were relieved to see Zephyr's obsessive energy getting redirected towards a more positive goal for once. Though they questioned his efforts to essentially stalk Caius at his university, they didn't balk too hard after witnessing how much more balanced he became.

Zephyr was finally regaining his drive and sense of purpose - no longer just aimlessly crusading, but actively working towards something meaningful. Or at least, he hoped a reunion with Cai would help ground him again and provide some clarity.

After several months of planning and preparation, Zephyr managed to uncover the coordinates for the remote Scottish airfield that hosted Aurelian's ferry flights. As Zephyr headed towards his grand adventure in this strange new world that was the enigmatic island university, he couldn't help but feel a stirring sense of excitement for what awaited him. He scraped together enough money for a one-way ticket, ready to take a leap of faith in search of his brother...and maybe some answers about himself in the process.

Surprise! Only 8 months late lol. Here is the first chapter/episode of AU! What do you think will happen next?

[rhysiana]

A summer vacation moment for Nozue and Togawa that I originally started as a Yuletide treat, but it was both too short and too overwhelmingly summer-y, so I saved it for now. Posting this specifically on August 7, the day Tanabata is celebrated in Sendai. (Please also imagine a future where Togawa tries out sketching as a new hobby for the accompanying art.)

Technically, this trip had been Togawa’s idea. He had been the one to spot the shinkansen fare deal after Nozue commented casually about a travel segment on the morning news; he had been the one to book the ryokan instead of one of the hotels they always used on business trips so it would feel like a real vacation. But now that they were here, he was really starting to question the wisdom of traveling to Sendai in August. Here in the covered shopping street in the middle of the city, the humid air was barely moving. He could feel sweat trickling down the middle of his back and spared a very brief but longing thought for the air-conditioned office he’d been so eager to escape.

Fortunately, looking at Nozue was serving as a pretty good distraction from his own discomfort. Not that Nozue was probably any less hot than Togawa was, but he was handling it with more style, dressed in a short-sleeved linen shirt he’d ironed before Togawa had woken up that morning and somehow kept unwrinkled the whole day. He’d also managed to procure a cheap fan from somewhere and was using it to lazily stir the air in front of his face, but Togawa could see sweat beading on his neck and had been running an idle fantasy in his mind of kissing it off the hollow of his throat for the past fifteen minutes.

He wiped an annoying (and undoubtedly less attractive) trickle off his own forehead. “Do you think they celebrate Tanabata here a month later than everywhere just to maximize how hot it will be?”

“I think it’s supposed to be something about staying more in line with the historical calendar,” Nozue said almost absently, and then smiled over his shoulder at him. “Look at that one!”

Togawa forced himself to blink away from Nozue’s smile, which as far as he was concerned was the entire point of the trip, and look at the huge paper decoration he was pointing at.

“Very pretty,” he agreed, and held up his phone to take a picture, Nozue in the foreground as the more important subject. If Nozue wanted photos of just the decorations, he could take them himself.

Nozue noticed and looked away, fanning himself a little harder. If he hadn’t already been so flushed from the heat, Togawa suspected he would have been blushing. Togawa hadn’t decided whether he hoped would someday get used to it, or if he’d respond so cutely forever.

“Oh, look,” Nozue said, still a master of deflection when flustered. “There’s going to be fireworks tonight. Do you think we’ll be able to see them from the ryokan, or should we go to,” he squinted at the flyer, glasses left behind in his suitcase as always, “um, this bridge up near the castle ruins?”

Togawa decided not to tease him about clearly figuring that out from the larger symbols on the map rather than the words and considered the question seriously. “There’s aircon back in the room, but if we go to the festival area, there will be yakisoba. And dango.” He glanced at the map again. “And probably reflections off the river.”

“Hmmm, yes, let’s do that.” Nozue leaned a little closer to Togawa in a way he often did now, like he was responding to a personal gravity. (Togawa thrilled at it every time even though he wasn’t sure Nozue really realized he was doing it.) “Why does yakisoba from a festival stall always taste the best?”

Fitting his hand into the small of Nozue’s back, Togawa steered him back into the flow of pedestrians. “I don’t know, but I’m sure the answer is very unhealthy.”

Nozue’s fan was directed at them both now. “I’m sure that’s true. Let’s not find out.”

[Now also in my Petit Fours collection of Old Fashion Cupcake post-canon slice-of-life moments.)

[loganscroftersstash]

Isn't That Us On That Poster?

hihi back at you with another logan centric fic bc. brainrot. i am so normal abt him and orange. teehee.

i purposefully left him unnamed for multiple reasons soooo yeah!!! i've had this idea since i saw this post by@volno-pesh. its been on my mind. literally since i first saw it. this is just inspired by that post a little bit (a lot. i did make a whole scene out of one of the pieces of art they made.. and used the lyric from the same song they did.. BUT YEAH) sooo feel free to go enjoy that art!! bc its so <333

Summary: Logan doesn't like his counterpart very much. Pairing: Logan & Orange Side (platonic) Word Count: 2042 Tags: Hurt/No Comfort, Logan-centric, angst :3

enjoy!! (crossposted on ao3!)

A fluke was all it was. Logan never lost control like that. He’s had outbursts before— poor puppet Roman bore the brunt of it, he hardly ever got so violent— but this? He’s never…

The moment lingers in his mind like the taste of iron in his mouth, replaying over and over again. Logan felt more like Anxiety than he did Logic, right now. What was Remus going to do with this? Was he going to do anything? Maybe he’d blackmail Logan, use the information to get him to do his dirty work or evil bidding, or maybe he wouldn’t do anything. There was no reason for what he did, he just did, after all. But the very thought that Remus had witnessed it made Logan’s stomach twist and turn.

As he watches Thomas rush out the door and trip over boxes, and gives one last look over to the mess of the apartment, he sinks out, defeated. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This was his day. His day to help, to get through to Thomas and help him better achieve the best life he can possibly live. After all the hard work he’s done getting him organized, helping him and the others rationalize his intrusive thoughts— all the work that went into the very creation of the schedule itself! He’d done so much for so little and he was going to be demonized for getting upset with the fact that maybe, just maybe, he wanted a little recognition for once. Was it so much to ask for a thank you? If it was up to Patton it’d be mandated, if the Redux he was pulled from was any indication.

He rose back up in his room, feeling exhaustion slowly crawl up his spine and lay over him like a blanket made of lead. Logan knew he only had a minute or two to gather himself, collect his thoughts, and dry his eyes from the angry tears that threatened to spill over. He tossed his planner aside, for once uncaring of the way the pages landed sporadically on the bed and were sure to crease randomly, and took his glasses off. He set them on his dresser and pinched the bridge of his nose, moving his thumb and pointer finger up to rub at his temples as he let out a long sigh.

He was so tired...

Logan didn’t have time to be tired, though. He had a job and that was more important than his own exhaustion. He had to make sure that this little venture to the park was at least worth abandoning the entire day they’d planned out.

After a few long, arduous hours of watching, they’d finally been able to go home. Although the others were thrilled with not only the event but also the outcome, Logan just found himself feeling more bitter than he would’ve liked. He knew it was immature and a waste of time to hold a grudge… so he told himself not to.

Logan sank out, that same lead blanket weighing him down even more as he rises back up into his room. It holds him down as he trudges to his bathroom, flicking on the light and wincing at the usually welcome fluorescent lighting. He examines himself in the mirror, noting the slightly darker eye bags and the tousled hair, probably from him running his hands through it too much.

He takes off his glasses and sets them down, rubbing his eyes. He twists the cold tap on the sink and calmly watches as water flows from the faucet, hitting the white porcelain just loud enough to temporarily drown out his thoughts. He cups his hands beneath it and watches as they fill with water, before he leans down and splashes his face with it. The water makes him feel a little bit better, even if just for a moment. Logan repeats this twice more before he takes a towel, gently patting his face dry before he sets it down. He grabs his glasses and reframes them on his face, glancing up at his reflection once more before he flicks off the light. He closes the door to the bathroom and turns to face his bed again, only to be met with a figure clad in bright orange.

Logan jumps, his left hand bracing against the doorknob behind him and earning a chuckle from the other side. “Oh, Logan. Not expecting my visit?”

Logan glares at him. He’s still exhausted, even more so now after the date, but he couldn’t go to sleep with this… “What do you want?”

“Oh, nothing.” He grinned, baring his teeth in a way that only read as predatory to Logan. Like he’d tear him apart if he was given the very chance. “Just wanted to see you.”

An unlikely occurrence, Logan thinks. Either Janus didn’t care to show up or he was being truthful. “I’ll pretend that’s true. What is it that you really want?”

“To check in on you after what happened up there, silly!” He grinned, tilting his head as he spoke. “You put on quite a show… what a shame Thomas didn’t get to see the fireworks.”

Logan narrows his gaze. He’s doing his best to pick apart his words and dissect his mannerisms, but this bastard is too hard for him to read. If only he knew more about how or why he worked.. “It is not a shame. If Thomas had seen, that would create an even bigger rift between the two of us. I cannot create anymore metaphorical distance between us as he’s already having a hard time listening to me as it is. Furthermore, Thomas is already reeling from the revealing of Remus and Janus, you do not need to be added to the l—”

He burst out laughing, arms crossed over his chest as he did so. “Oh, Logan.” He murmured, shaking his head. “You’re positively adorable. You know that? You try so, so hard.” He rises from his spot on the other side’s bed, and Logan notes that the planner from earlier is still in ruin behind them, and crosses the room to stand directly in front of him. “And yet, you still fail time and time again?”

Logan hates how it gets to him. He knows that’s what he wants: to upset and get another rise out of him so he can take influence over him once more. Logan can’t let that happen. “I did not fail. Thomas redirected his attention to a task he deemed more important, and the other sides agreed. Our viewpoints did not align, but we still got some work accomplished today.”

“Oh, is that how you’d describe it?” He laughs, shaking his head. “Because personally, to me it looked more like Thomas tossing you to the side yet again, and you letting him.” He grinned, but there was no joy behind it. Amusement, more like. “Doesn’t that hurt, Logan? Make you angry?”

“You are trying to get a rise out of me; I am going to continue to ignore you.” Logan removed himself from between the orange clad side and the door, instead walking towards his dresser. “Sure, I wish the others would appreciate my work more, but that does not mean I get to stop working completely and take it out on them. Outbursts get me nowhere.”

“I disagree. But, to each their own,” The other hummed, leaning against the very door he’d just had Logan trapped by. “But… you wouldn’t have to keep having outbursts like this if you quit dealing with their bullshit.”

Logan sighs. This is typical. “Your crude words mean nothing.”

“Words, crude or not, mean everything, Logan. You of all sides should know that.” He smiled again, baring his teeth in a way that Logan just despises in the deepest pits of his stomach. “Unless they’re yours.”

Logan turns from his place at the dresser, cut off once more, “Don’t you get tired, Logan? They’ve stopped caring about you,” He begins to walk over, slowly. “When you started out in these silly little videos, you were so… expressive. You were much less of a prude, you actually had fun! You and padre played dress up together, you wore your onesie and didn’t have a care about it— you expressed yourself.” He approaches Logan in full, pushing his back against the dresser. “And then, a switch flipped at one point. Suddenly, you were all business! No feelings allowed! You stopped smiling, you stopped letting yourself feel joy or anything you considered to be a waste of time, but worst of all, Logan?” He leans down, directly in his face, “You became what they all wanted you to be: An empty, emotionless robot with no feelings, and no other purpose than to answer questions and calm fears when the moment arrived, and when your moment had passed, you could be disposed of.”

Hot, angry tears sting Logan‘s eyes, threatening to spill over. He glares at the now blur of orange in front of him, tempted to yell, scream, hit, punch, do whatever it took to get him and his painfully honest words out of his room. He thinks he can waltz in here and just insult him like this, in the one place he’s supposed to have safety, and destroy that for him as well? Logan knew deep down it was all to get him to react, to upset him and make him lash out again, but all that weighed right now on Logan’s mind was the painfully heavy fact that the other hadn’t lied.

“Get. Out.” Logan spits, fighting back the tears as best as he can.

“I don’t think I will.” The orange side grins back at him. “Admit it. You want to get angry. You want to make them all shut up and listen, don’t you? You want the order, the control, don’t you, Logan? You want to be listened to.”

“So what if I do?!” Logan shouts, near startling himself with the sudden outburst. Tears spill over and fall onto his cheeks, burning red from crying and the anger welling in his chest. “You’d feel just as bad as I do if everything you did that they didn’t deem necessary was discarded!”

“See? There it is,” The tone he used is patronizing, speaking to Logan as if he is some sort of little harmless animal. “You just have to say that! Talk all about how angry it makes you feel, or, alternatively, you take control back by force. I could help you with that, you know.”

Logan shoves him, steadying himself on the dresser as he straightens his posture. “No. I will most certainly not be doing that. I do not need you.”

Suddenly there’s a hand on his jaw and an arm around his waist, spinning him around and pulling him flush against the citrus colored side. “Oh, Logic, don’t be silly! Just look at us!” He forces his head in the direction of the mirror in front of the dresser, earning a glare from the other. The dark blue and bright orange go disgustingly well together, but that doesn’t make Logan anymore trusting. “Don’t we look wonderful together? Come on, now… you mustn’t think you can do this by yourself.” He releases his grip on the other’s jaw and spins him around, “Let me assist you. I know we’re foils but—”

“No.” Logan insists, reaching a hand up to wipe his damp cheeks. “I never have, nor will I ever, need your help. The only way you can assist me now is by getting the hell out of my room.”

“Alright. Alright. I see how it is.” He puts his hands up defensively, backing away slowly from the logical side. “But trust me, Logan. You’ll come crawling back, one way or another. That is a promise.”

The other sinks out, and Logan is momentarily ecstatic to be rid of the orange in his room entirely. He can finally breathe again, relax, as he chews over the words that were said and lingered in the forefront of his mind.

He turns to face the mirror, eyes once again gleaming with orange.

Logan hated the idea that maybe he was right.

[trashcritter]

Writer Interview Tag!

Ngl kind of chuckled to myself when @lolliputian tagged me in this, because I hardly consider myself a writer. I’ve written two full stories, only published one of them on ao3, that doesn’t feel like it counts. BUT. The questions were intriguing and I liked filling them out and thinking about this stuff. I’m tagging @boobcratchit and @el-inle and @poetryvampire and also anyone else who wants to steal this.

When did you start writing?

I mean as a kid I thought of myself as something of a creative writer through middle school, but something changed in high school where I suddenly decided I couldn’t do it anymore (probably just being an anxious perfectionistic teenager, honestly), and I transitioned to solely academic writing. I went to law school and became strictly a legal writer—and a damn good one. But I left my last writing-heavy job in 2020 and basically didn’t write anything until a couple of months ago, where for some reason I finally was able to rip the bandaid off.

Are there any specific themes or genres that you enjoy reading other than what you write?

Sci fi, horror, and I’m also a sucker for brain candy romance novels.

Is there a writer that you want to emulate or get compared to often?

Lol almost nobody is reading anything I’m writing yet, so no one is making any comparisons. I’m really just in a fact finding and developing phase of my writing as a creative pursuit—everything I’m reading I’m trying to think of what I like about it and how those things are being accomplished. So I guess I’m trying to emulate everyone right now as I work to find my own preferences.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I’ve been doing a lot of writing on my phone of all places. For whatever reason, it’s the cheat code to bypass the “writing = SERIOUS BUSINESS” panic moment in my brain that has kept me from transitioning from legal writing to writing as a creative pursuit. Occasionally I’ll hop on my desktop computer, and that is where I do most editing.

What is your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I don’t know yet! I’m mostly a visual artist, and I know that in that realm the best thing I can do for an idea is get it down on paper or in clay ASAP. I’ve been doing the same thing with my writing. Have an idea? A few lines? Throw it down in a new note. I find the ones I keep coming back to, whether it’s a project or a story, are the ones that are ready to have something made of them.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

I’ve been really interested in grief and loss as of late. My first piece that I shared with the world earlier this summer is on its surface a really sweet happy little story, but it’s driving point for me was one of grief, and I’m not sure it reads as super bittersweet (it wasn’t intended to), but I know that it’s a very bittersweet story at least for me personally. I keep coming back to a piece lately that is more obviously about immediate loss as well as the consequences of old loss that has gone ungrieved.

Something that is less of a theme and more stylistic is I’m very interested in the flow and musicality of my words. All of my best physical art has a certain movement and musicality to it, and I feel like I’m constantly trying to bring that into my writing as well.

What is your reason for writing?

When I wrote as a large part of my career, I loved the power behind my words. I am a really good legal writer. I’m persuasive as fuck and I am excellent at evoking the emotion and the viewpoint I want my reader to have. I loved that feeling and found that I missed it once I stopped. So I write to recapture the feeling of command and control over language, for one. But also I write because it gives a voice to the words that I would say naturally if I could, but don’t really seem like they belong in every day speech. And I’m finding that I enjoy putting my blorbos in situations and seeing what they do. It’s imaginative in a way that is very different from visual art. Finally, it’s giving me a place to process things in a new way. And I really love being able to share those thoughts and feelings with others; we both discover we aren’t so alone when we connect over writing.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment that you find particularly motivating?

When people call out individual snippets of writing that they particularly thought were beautiful, that brings me such joy. But otherwise just getting encouraging notes has been great. I’m so new to this art form, I know I’m still very much a developing writer, and that things are rough around the edges. But being able to be welcomed by others and have fun with them is really wonderful.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I have no idea. Somebody called my writing very introspective, and I really felt proud of that comment. I think it *is* quite introspective, and I like that. I like taking the inner world and giving it voice.

What do you think is your greatest strength as a writer?

I have no idea what I’m doing. No really—there’s a freedom to being a beginner that you can’t get back. I don’t think my writing is always very effective yet, but I do think it’s honest and unconstrained. In time I’ll learn to build guardrails and give it more shape, but the key I think is maintaining that honesty. And that’s hard to do once you know what you’ve been doing “wrong” the whole time. I’m in no hurry to learn lol.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Oh this is all purely self indulgent bullshit.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I’m pretty self conscious of it right now because I can tell it’s not where I want it to be. And of course it isn’t—I’ve been practicing this skill for a few months, tops? I think it’s better than average for that timeline, but it’s by no means great. I’m trying to be okay with not being great though—it’s good practice for me (or so my therapist says ;) ). I think I’ve got some good ideas, and occasionally lightning strikes and I can create a really solid few sentences. But I can’t yet do it consistently. I just don’t know enough yet. But I’m having *fun* and nobody is paying me for it, and it’s nice to just be able to let something be.

[all-things-ghostly]

Hi hi!

So I don't know if you take requests or not but if you do I have one for you!!

How about Hatbox ghost (movie or not doesn't matter) with a medium s/o. They are like Madam Leota but more in touch with the spirit world since they've studied more and are a wee but adventurous.

They can also get into the minds of other people but getting in a tub filled with ice and water blindfolded kinda like El from Stranger things.

I hope this isn't overwhelming and if I can't request anything that's fine! Just thought I'd try! :)

❤️ anon

Oh wow hi anon! You're actually my first ask! I know I haven’t really mentioned requests before since honestly I usually just take those on a case by case basis based on whether or not I can come up with something for it, but you were super sweet and polite and I have quite a few ideas for this so I’ll give yours a shot 👍 I just hope you don’t mind if I do it more headcanon style because I can’t really think of a way to make my ideas flow properly into a oneshot lmao. I’m honored that you thought of me, thank you!

Your powers were actually what initially led you to Alistair. Your sense of adventure always had you traveling from haunted site to haunted site, seeing what you could pick up on and who you could potentially meet, so when you noticed the mansion was vacant once again you immediately took the opportunity to go inside and check it out.

He was the first ghost you encountered in there, since he obviously got all excited and bloodthirsty when he realized another mortal got caught up in his trap. As you can imagine at first he wasn’t all that friendly. In his eyes you were just another soul to claim, although he did quickly catch on that there was more to you than what meets the eye.

That just convinced him to up the ante on his mind games even further, he did some of the scariest things he could think of, sent out all the most erratic ghosts after you, all that jazz, but it just completely failed lmao. Instead you just ate that shit up. You were searching for wild ghost encounters? Well now you certainly have them.

Alistair was so annoyed with it at first but you eventually grew on him. He saw a bit of himself in you. You had that same curiosity for the morbid and mystical that he once did when he was younger.

Which is why he maybe even starts to teach you some of what he knows. I’m sure he has some like ancient books hiding around somewhere (even if his reading skills are… questionable…) that were lost to time and never published in modern day that taught you all sorts of new things. Although he was more so into the dark arts aspect of things which can obviously have repercussions, so maybe it’s best if you skip over the blood sacrifices for now… or don’t, who knows. That’s for you to decide ;)

However, as much as he’s intrigued by your talent, he also looks out for you. Theres no hiding that you can be just a little reckless and over ambitious sometimes and may not always properly protect yourself. That can lead to very bad things, as he would know, he was summoned into the mansion for that very reason. So if by any chance the time ever comes, he will make sure no dark entity ever crosses you. This guy can seriously mess somebody up-

As for the emotional mind reading aspect of things, Alistair’s bad at showing and communicating his feelings most of the time. His dad kind of enforced that into him. Sometimes you’ll have to use your abilities to be able to fully understand how he’s feeling when he can’t articulate it himself. You don’t always have to go full sensory deprivation, sometimes it can be as simple as closing your eyes and clearing your thoughts, but he can also bury some stuff REALLY deep down that would require you to really ground yourself to get into his mind. He does appreciate it though, it allows you both to empathize with one another even when he can’t easily be open.

I had another thought that kind of goes along with this. Now if reader’s a REALLY good medium, like able to connect all the way to the region beyond type of really good medium, there could be a time where you might reach out to his mom for him. Only if he’s ready for it of course. Theres a lot that’s changed since they’ve last seen each other. And, I like to headcanon that when he was mortal and participating in occult, he would sometimes secretly go off alone and try to contact her, but it would never work. You may very well finally be his chance to do that again. He sobs like a baby during the conversation but it’s very healing and it ties up a lot of loose ends on his side. Sometimes if he’s having a really hard time, you’ll offer to try and reach her for him so they can talk, since his mom is the only person he really has ever felt completely 100% safe around.

I hope that kinda fit what you were thinking of anon! Thanks for popping in ❤️

[silvertherogue715]

hello! This is just a small one before I get into the bigger question, I remember on your deviant art it was implied that Sunstar and Ra Moon were the same entity. Also what did you mean by Terra wasn’t himself when he and Minx first met, and what is Slur’s role in the AU? I hope you have a good day/night! Thank you!

Short answer:

Are Sunstar and Ra Moon the same person? 

Yes! They are! Technically. 

Ra Moon lacks Sunstar’s full set of memories, and is the part of Sunstar that has been with Minx the longest. “Ra Moon” doesn’t gain back his memories of being “Sunstar” until the end of Arc 1, when Terra essentially “kidnaps” him (which was shown in the comic from the last ask) from SciLab.

Terra wasn’t himself?

No. He (and his brothers) had been exposed to the negative effects of Sunstar’s Negative Energy Crystals (NEC’s or NE Crystals) for far too long. A side effect of this exposure brought out the worst in Terra, which can be observed during the Stardroids first arrival back on Earth after thousands of years. 

Also, space and time are funky in this AU, courtesy of Duo–the stardroids are not actually thousands of years old.

What is Slur’s role?

She doesn't appear until late arc 2, but she is a recurring threat throughout later arcs. She carries out Duo's will by 'testing' the inhabitants of life-filled planets to determine whether or not they are "evil." If they are? Destruction. If not? They're left alone.

Long answer:

Are Sunstar and Ra Moon the same person? 

Yes. 

Ra Moon lacks all of his previous memories as “Sunstar" until Terra puts the NE Crystal inside of Ra Moon back into his ‘Sunstar’ body. This is the red crystal Terra was clutching in the comic from the last ask!

NE Crystals are a whole discussion on their own. Hoo boy. I’m sure some of this will be confusing, but please feel free to ask for clarity. Hope it isn't too overwhelming!

Let me try to give you a timeline, for simplicity:

Sunstar was the first, and only Stardroid created with 2 NEC’s in his body. These crystals bind best with non-organic material, like Navis, and serve as both a source of power and a place to store memories.

Yes there are Positive Energy Crystals, too. I just call ‘em GVC’s (good vibes crystals) though because it flows better.

Sunstar contained 5 NECs in his body at one point. The power overwhelms him, and the potency also affects the Stardroids (who are also NEC Navis).

His original 2 are in his chest.

He has one in his right forearm, and another in his left forearm.

The 5th is in his abdomen.

Duo (weird space & time god in the anime–) injures Sunstar enough to put him in critical condition during a battle in space. 

4 of his 5 crystals are scattered to the stars.

Terra intercepts one of Sunstar’s two original NEC’s before Duo can destroy it, and places it into Ra Moon–a lifeless surveillance drone–and has Saturn send it to Earth (to give Sunstar distance and safety from Duo).

The outcome of the battle did not look favorable for the stardroids–he believed it was his best course of action at the time. 

Duo had the mindset of "No crystals = no memories = no Sunstar"

Ra Moon landed on Earth and was found by Minx’s great-great Grandfather, Edward. 

Sunstar’s amnesia as Ra Moon is caused by 2 things:

He is missing his other crystal

The crystal in Ra Moon has not adjusted to the ‘new host body,’ and a lack of familiar items or people mean he has nothing to trigger memories of his past self.

‘Viren society’ has long since been buried during their time away. 

So basically, imagine waking up and having so idea who you are, and the only clues being:

“Name = Ra_Moon_model71”

But basically, “Ra Moon” has been in Minx’s family for generations. He helped Edward establish a Net-based company, providing both him and his human friend security. Then Edward dies. Edward’s son “inherits” him. Ra Moon is still treated well. Then the son dies. Things get worse. Then it happens again. And again. 

And then he is eventually given to Minx (8). She reminds him of Edward, and things slowly start getting better again. Then Terra shows up.

Ra Moon has been with Minx for a long, long time.

Terra wasn’t himself?

No. As mentioned above, he hasn’t truly been himself since Sunstar started gaining more NECs in his body. One NE crystal is already an impressively powerful energy source, and Sunstar was created with two. The more crystals he gained, the more he lost himself, and the more the excess energy–like poison–started affecting the other Stardroids. Even after Sunstar's NEC’s were scattered, residual energy tainted the Stardroids minds while they hunted them down to restore their leaders body.

The Stardroids are not purged of this excess energy until sometime after arriving on Earth again, after Sunstar was repaired.

What is Slur’s role?

She doesn't appear until late arc 2, but she is a recurring threat throughout later arcs. Slur is…interesting, to say the least. Egocentric with a holier-than-thou attitude, like her anime counterpart, to be sure, but…interesting. 

Though Slur could/should be discussed in greater detail in a different ask on her own, honestly. But to understand her role, the history of NEC vs GVCs Navis, as well as Viren society (which is basically my name for the ancient Earth civilization that is briefly touched on in the anime) and the creation of Duo as a whole would probably have to be addressed first? It’s a lot of lore-heavy stuff. Would probably be too overwhelming for a single post.

But TLDR: Bad guy. Sociopath. Hate Slur.