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alwaysmicado · 10 months

Text

Trouble

5.3k | 18+ MDNI | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 5

Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, D/s dynamic, rough oral (m receiving), spitting, cum eating, leg humping, degradation/praise, humiliation kink, pet names, aftercare, feelings Summary: After you’ve distracted Joel from work with your explicit texts all day, he decides to teach you a lesson. A/N: Consensual degradation & humiliation – my beloved. This one's for you if you're into unadulterated filth with feelings sprinkled on top hehe. Let me know what you think, I love hearing your thots! 🤍

pt. 1 ・ pt. 2 ・ pt. 3 ・ pt. 4 ・ series masterlist

“You sure you got nothing else to say to me?”

“I’m—sorry?”

“No,” he tilts his head and you see the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “But you will be when I’m done with you.”

---

“Sneaking out for a hot date?”

Busted.

You sigh and turn around to face Kristen’s triumphant grin. Beautiful Kristen. The only person at your job with a bearable personality.

If you only had Janice from accounting and her incessant yapping about her feral kids, or John from HR and his never-ending tirades against “modern women”, you probably would have burnt down the building already.

Kristen’s been your lifeline over the past two years at this job. She’s upbeat, fun, a gifted painter and the closest thing to a female friend you have.

Her only flaw: she’s so nosy it’s not even funny.

After your get-well-fuck with Joel three days ago where he left multiple marks on your neck, you not only plastered a bunch of foundation over the purple reminders of his fever-fueled nipping, you also wore a silk scarf which, in hindsight, was a dumb idea.

The first thing you were welcomed with when you came in that morning was an enthusiastic “You go, girl!” followed by giggling after Kristen saw your unimpressed face.

You shoot her a half-hearted smile and raise an eyebrow. “Who says it’s a date?”

Kristen’s grin widens. “Oh, come on! You think I don’t notice the way you giggle at your phone like a lovesick idiot?”

“Oh, shut up,” you protest in mock offense. What the hell is she talking about? You don’t do that. “I got a doctor’s appointment. Nothing hot about that,” you say nonchalantly.

Kristen leans in, lowering her voice dramatically. “A doctor, huh? Do you have an ache only he can cure with his special tool?”

“You’re a pervert, you know that?”

“Yeah, duh. That’s why you love me,” she chuckles, causing the corners of your own lips to twitch.

“Well,” she smirks, “I hope the doctor will take the best care of you.”

You roll your eyes at her teasing, grab your bag and blow her a kiss before heading out. You leave the office with a grin, reveling in the sunshine that greets you when you step out.

The warmth of the day feels refreshing against your skin as you stroll to the parking lot. Your dress, despite being a result of prolonged laundry procrastination, is surprisingly comfortable, allowing you to appreciate the light breeze that rustles its fabric.

The sun casts a golden hue on the cityscape and you can't help but smile at the small pleasures of life – the sun on your face, a staff meeting getting canceled earlier, finding twenty bucks in an old pair of jeans this morning.

Life is okay at the moment.

Despite work kicking your ass, your mother trying to guilt-trip you into coming “home” and the last hookup you had throwing you out in the middle of the goddamn night because his wife came home from her business trip early.

You’re feeling good.

One might even say you’re happy.

If only there wasn’t this nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You take a deep breath and straighten your shoulders when you see your Uber pull up. Get yourself together.

The car winds through the city streets, and as you give Joel's address to the driver, you can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation. The engine hums softly as you navigate the familiar turns, presenting the perfect background to lose yourself in a daydream.

As you settle into the comfort of your bed, the world outside fades away. In the gentle embrace of your imagination, you feel a figure appear behind you. Their warmth is a soothing balm, and as they pull you close, a profound sense of security envelops you. The weight of the world, of your being lifts, replaced by the tender reassurance of this ethereal embrace.

In this imagined sanctuary, sleep finds you easily, cradled in the arms of solace. The whispered promise of warmth and safety lingers, allowing dreams to unfold like petals, undisturbed and serene in the soft glow of moonlight.

The notification sound of your phone pulls you back to reality. Glancing at the screen, you see Joel's name. You open the message and involuntarily press your thighs together, your pulse quickening instantly.

Door’s open. Get naked, then come upstairs.You’re in real trouble, angel.

---

The familiar scent of Joel’s home greets you when you step inside. It smells more like home than your apartment or any other place you’ve lived in since you were a child. Safe, warm, comforting – like its owner. And it’s a surprisingly well-decorated and welcoming home for a bachelor.

So much so that you asked him flat out if he had a wife on your first night together.

You take your shoes off and put your bag on the couch in the living room before heading to the downstairs bathroom to wash your hands and quickly check if you look presentable. Your eyes are a bit swollen from lack of restful sleep, but other than that, you’re good to go.

As you take your dress, bra and panties off, you somewhat fondly remember the last time Joel ordered you to his home because you were sending him filthy texts and photos while you both were at work.

You spent thirty minutes sitting still on his lap while he worked on his computer, his throbbing cock buried deep inside you. Every time he would shift in his chair a little, you would whimper into the crook of his neck and he would whisper into your ear how well you were doing for him and draw soothing circles on your back with his palm.

You hated and loved every torturous second of it.

The office door is open when you come upstairs. Your eyes widen when you see Joel sitting at his desk. It’s incredible how handsome he looks. He’s wearing a black t-shirt, blue gym shorts and his glasses as he’s staring at the computer and typing something with his index fingers.

Your heart starts beating faster as you take him in, the domesticity of this scene giving you an unexpectedly warm feeling deep within you.

“You just gonna stand there and stare at me?” Joel asks with a swivel of his chair, his body now facing yours. He saw you out of the corner of his eye before but now that he’s getting a good look at you, his jaw almost hits the floor.

He will never get used to seeing you naked.

“God, you’re so much more beautiful in real life,” he murmurs, his pupils blown wide and the admiration in his voice unmistakable.

You give him a satisfied smile as you lean against the doorframe. “I sure hope so,” you tease.

“Do you know why you’re here, darlin’?” Joel asks with a tilt of his head, his brow slightly furrowed.

“I’m assuming it has something to do with the silly little texts and pics I sent you to brighten up your day,” you say, feigning innocence. “Did you like them?”

“You really think now’s the time to be a brat, huh?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Alright, then.” His eyes sparkle dangerously as he sits back in his chair and spreads his legs wider.

“You sure you got nothing else to say to me?”

“I’m—sorry?”

“No,” he tilts his head and you see the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “But you will be when I’m done with you.”

You bite your lip as your eyes focus on the visible bulge in Joel’s shorts, and try to suppress the huge grin that’s threatening to spread across your face. This is exactly what you wanted and you both know it.

“Hands and knees, baby,” Joel orders calmly and puts his hands on his thighs. “C’mere.”

You lower yourself on all fours without hesitation and crawl towards him slowly, making sure to sway your hips and never break eye contact. Joel’s the only person you’d put yourself in such a submissive position for and you revel in the exhilarating feeling it gives you.

Joel keeps his eyes trained on you, subtly rubbing his thighs as you come closer to where he’s needed you all day. His eyes are dark and full of need as he licks his lips and follows the mesmerizing movement of your body. He likes how you, despite your brattiness, know perfectly well where your place is.

“Look at what you did,” he says, once you’re kneeling on all fours between his spread legs. He palms his throbbing cock over the fabric and your eyes widen a little, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“That's right, baby, you did this. And now you need to take responsibility for your actions.” He gently caresses your cheek, tracing your lips with his thumb.

When he presses on your lower lip, you instinctively open your mouth enough for his finger to slip inside. He presses on your tongue, admiring the feeling and your willingness to submit.

“Look at you,” he chuckles, gently rubbing his cock. “Such a little slut, always wants something in her mouth.”

He moves his thumb further along your tongue, causing you to furrow your brow and gag a little. “You couldn't help yourself, huh, just had to put on a show all day like the needy whore you are.”

He takes his thumb out of your mouth and pulls his shorts all the way down, letting them fall on the floor next to his chair. His heavy cock flops against his lower belly, causing you to swallow and part your lips instinctively. Joel smirks at your reaction, enjoying the raw need sparkling in your eyes as he strokes himself slowly.

You start squirming, pressing your thighs together to alleviate at least some of the uncomfortable ache between your legs, and let out an almost inaudible whine as Joel continuously strokes up and down his length while looking at you curiously.

He leans in and tilts your chin up, his dark eyes boring into you.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” He asks softly, feigning concern. He looks from you to his cock and back, raising an eyebrow. “All of this just because you’re a pathetic little cockslut with nothing else in her dumb little head than my cock. Isn’t that right, angel?”

You nod slowly, your lips slightly parted, hypnotized by Joel’s big eyes and filthy words.

“Use your words, slut,” he growls, gripping the back of your neck to tilt your head up even more.

“I just—wanted you so bad, I–”

“Aww, of course you did,” he teases you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Tell me your safeword, angel.”

He looks into your eyes intently as you say it out loud, then puts a soft kiss on your lips. You whimper when he withdraws, the feeling of his warm lips lingering.

“Open up,” he orders with a tap of his fingers to your bottom lip. “Stick your tongue out for me.”

You obey and do as he says, looking into his eyes expectantly. You watch in awe and pure need as the thick glob of saliva makes its way down from Joel’s mouth and lands on the back of your tongue. A shiver runs down your spine as you feel it run down your throat.

“Swallow.” He gently puts a strand of hair behind your ear as you show him your empty mouth. “Good girl.”

You moan softly at his praise and furrow your brow when your eyes find his cock again.

“You really want it, huh,” Joel purrs, trailing your neck and chest gently with his hands. When he brushes your nipples, you wince a little, eliciting a low chuckle from him. “Spread your legs, baby. Let me see your little pussy.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, his cock twitching impatiently when you sit back on your heels and present your glistening folds.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs, tracing your belly all the way down to your mound and stopping right before touching your clit. “Must’ve been uncomfortable to sit in that all day, hm?”

He gently pulls your lips apart with his thumbs and index fingers, inspecting you closely. “Your little clit is so swollen, baby, does it hurt?”

“Mhm,” you whine, his touch so close to your neglected bundle of nerves torturing you beyond belief. “It–it hurts so bad, Sir.”

“Hmm,” he searches your eyes, “and that’s why you thought it was a good idea to send me all those naughty messages?” He spreads your lips apart further, eliciting a long moan from you. “You thought I’d fuck you if you did?”

“Y–yes,” you stammer, your legs trembling, “I’m sor–”

You’re cut off when Joel lets go of your lips and swipes his fingers through your dripping wet folds agonizingly slowly, once, twice, three times, barely brushing your pulsating clit.

Listening to the noises you make and feeling your hot cunt on his hand is enough to make him almost come, despite his cock not having any contact at the moment. His eyes never leave yours as you whimper desperately, his barely there touch enough to build your long overdue orgasm.

“Go on, angel,” he withdraws his hand and holds his hand up to your lips, “clean up the mess you made.”

He pushes his wet fingers into your mouth, forcing you to suck your own juices off of him. You do so eagerly, sucking and licking his fingers, moaning around them.

“You would’ve sucked my cock in front of everyone if I had let you, huh.” You let out a desperate moan, feeling your pussy get wetter at the thought. “That’s right, baby,” Joel chuckles. “Show everyone you’re my little cockslut.”

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, satisfied with the job you did, then grabs your chin hard, his wet fingers pressing into your hot cheeks.

“You want it so bad, baby? Then beg for it.”

“Please,” you whine. “Please let me suck your cock, please, I–I want your cock so bad—”

“All yours, baby.”

He leans back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head, looking at you through lidded eyes.

“Fuuuck, that’s it,” Joel groans as you start licking and sucking at his balls, then lightly trace the veins of his cock with your warm tongue, swirling it around the tip, licking up the salty precum. You look at him expectantly as you lick up and down his length, fondling his balls with your hand.

He smiles at the needy look in your eyes, finding it unbelievably hot that you want to, need to hear his praise so badly even though it’s obvious that everything you do to him is and feels beyond perfect.

“Good girl,” he says softly, eliciting a little whimper from you. “Now stop teasing and take it.”

You immediately hold him up by the base and take the tip into your mouth, sucking on it eagerly. You take him further, inch by inch, bobbing your head up and down his shaft until he’s nudging the back of your throat. Your eyes well over with tears as you gag around his cock. Joel groans in response, his whole body tensing as he tangles his hands in your hair.

You make a surprised sound when he leans over you and pushes your head down until your nose is rubbing his pubic hair, giving you no chance to move your head. He keeps his length buried deep inside you for a few seconds before pulling you up, a thick string of saliva mixed with precum connecting you two, only to push you right back down.

“Fuck, I love the sounds you make,” Joel pants as you choke and whine loudly.

He pulls your head back up to let you catch your breath and make sure you’re enjoying yourself as much as he is. He knows from the look in your eyes that you are, but he wants to make sure before you continue.

“What’s your color, angel?”

You look at him with bleary eyes, but give him a dazed smile and whisper, “Green.”

Joel nods and caresses your wet cheeks, wiping away some of your tears with his thumbs.

He traces your swollen lips with the head of his cock, loving the way his precum sticks to them.

“Breathe through your nose, baby,” he pants. “Can’t have you passing out on me.”

You wrap your lips around his head, swirl your tongue around it, then bob your head again – messily, sloppily, just the way he likes it.

“Good girl,” he breathes, thrusting his hips to slide in and out of your mouth, smiling at you and petting your hair. “Such a perfect little fleshlight.”

You tremble and moan around him, not entirely sure if his filthy mouth, his groaning, or the fact that he’s using you for his pleasure is turning you on the most. You just know you love it when he holds your head steady and fucks your mouth roughly, taking what he wants from you, making you gag and choke, saliva and tears running down your cheeks, chin, neck, and body.

You look like a masterpiece.

“I’m close, baby,” Joel pants, your perfect, wet mouth and the admiration he sees in your big, wet eyes making him tremble every time he thrusts his hips into you. You push him right over the edge when you squeeze his balls hard.

He comes with a strangled groan, shooting rope after rope of warm cum down your throat and onto your tongue. You welcome it with eager moans, so far gone that you don’t realize what you’re doing until after it’s too late — you swallow it all without his permission.

Fatal mistake.

Joel grabs you by your hair, pulling you off his pulsating cock, still breathing heavily.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?”

Your eyes widen in shock, your lip quivering. “I–I'm sorry, I–I forgot.”

“You forgot?” Joel sighs and raises his eyebrows. He loosens his grip in your hair and looks at your eyes welling up with tears. You stumble over your words as you keep apologizing over and over again. You’re so perfect like this.

“What’s your color, baby?”

“Green, Sir,” you sniffle. “It’s green.”

“Now what am I supposed to do with a fleshlight that doesn’t work right, hm?” He tilts your chin up and rubs it softly with his thumb. “Do you think you deserve to get fucked?”

“I’m—please, I'll be good, I promise,” you choke out through tears and hiccups. “Please, I’ll do anything you want, just please—”

Joel smirks and leans back in his chair. “No need to tell me that, angel. I know you’ll do anything.” He lifts his foot between your thighs, eliciting a small, needy noise from you when he presses it against your swollen cunt.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. All from being used, hm?”

“Yes, Sir,” you whine, wiping your cheeks and trying your hardest to stay still. “Thank you.”

“Such a pathetic little slut.” He rubs his foot against your folds, and you moan, closing your eyes, your lips trembling, your face hot from embarrassment and arousal. Joel presses harder and you cry out, your hips jerking instinctively.

“Pathetic enough to hump my leg?”

He snorts when he sees the stunned look on your face. You are definitely startled, but you don't protest. Joel can see a mix of hesitation and need in your eyes, and he understands that he needs to push you.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he says, gently petting your hair, “so you better thank me for letting you come at all.”

He sighs and pulls your head back by your hair when you don’t answer fast enough.

“Use your words, slut.”

“Th–thank you,” you whimper. “I–I just–” You trail off, too shocked and embarrassed to finish your sentence, your voice trembling as you babble unintelligibly.

You hear Joel say your name and feel him cup your cheeks. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

You sniffle and try to focus on his eyes. “Tell me your color,” he says gently, his deep voice soothing your nerves.

“Still green,” you breathe, swallowing hard.

He searches your eyes and nods before sitting back up and extending his leg a little.

“Go on, then.”

You look at the satisfied smirk on his face before taking a deep breath and scooting forward, adjusting yourself against Joel’s leg. Gripping Joel’s thigh for balance, you tilt your hips forward until your clit makes contact with his hairy leg. You shudder at the feeling, a needy little moan escaping your lips.

Joel’s pupils are so blown, his eyes are completely black now.

You slowly drag your hips upward and duck your head, embarrassed that you’re actually enjoying this – and that you’re this wet. After slowly rocking your hips up and down a few times, you can’t keep yourself from moaning anymore. It feels to fucking good.

You shift a little and allow yourself to set a pace that will make you come. You nuzzle your face against Joel’s thigh and don’t hold back anymore, rutting against his leg with abandon, chasing your release.

“That’s it, angel,” Joel purrs, gently brushing a wet strand of hair out of your face. “You’re doing so well for me.”

You rock your hips against his leg over and over again, your brows furrowed, whimpering desperately as you grind your wet folds against Joel’s leg, the friction causing your whole body to shudder.

Joel fucking loves seeing you like this; pliant, obedient, wanting to be good so badly that you’d do anything to please him. Most of all, though, he loves how much you trust him.

“You’re such a good girl,” he praises, tilting your chin up to look into your glazed over eyes. “My good girl.”

You moan at his words, your fingers digging into the flesh of his thighs, your hips jerking frantically, desperate for release. Joel smiles softly at your reaction, reveling in the fact that he's ruining you for anyone else.

He fucking delights in it.

“That’s right, angel. Keep looking at me with those beautiful eyes.”

You barely hear what he says as your breathing comes out in noisy, deep gasps, too far gone, too overwhelmed to feel embarrassed at fucking yourself on Joel’s leg. There are no thoughts left in your brain, your only focus now is chasing your climax.

“Feels good, huh? Such a spoiled brat, aren’t you,” he taunts, marveling at your blissed out expression and the sheen of sweat glistening on your naked body.

“You think you deserve to come, hm? Even though you’re just a dumb little whore, only good for taking my cock in all her holes?”

That’s almost enough right there to tip you over the edge.

“Tell me what you are.”

You let out a choked sob, fresh tears making their way down your cheeks. Joel wipes them away with his thumbs as you stutter, “I’m–I’m your dumb little whore, Sir. I’m all yours — please, please–”

He gives you a warm smile as his dark eyes bore into. “Come for me, angel.”

You press your throbbing clit hard against him, humping his leg feverishly until the tension finally snaps and shockwaves grip your whole body, your legs trembling as you moan uncontrollably. Your walls contract around nothing as you collapse onto Joel’s thigh and start sobbing.

It’s all too much right now.

He immediately draws you into his strong arms, lifting you up and cradling you. “Shh, sweetheart,” he purrs, holding you tight and stroking your hair, “you did so well. Are you alright, hm? You want me to go get you a towel?”

Your eyes widen at the suggestion of him leaving you, causing you to shake your head fervently, your tears flowing freely now as you gradually come down from your high.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby” he coos, putting soft kisses on the top of your head and rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You're still naked and Joel wants you to feel comfortable and warm, so he swivels you two towards the couch to snag the blanket and drape it over you. He holds you close, whispering into your hair how well you did and how good you are, intermittently pressing soft kisses on your wet face.

You feel the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath, a comforting rhythm that wraps around you like a protective cocoon. The warmth emanating from his body seeps into yours, making you feel calm and protected.

Joel’s not surprised that you need physical affection and closeness right now, knowing that humiliation is one of the most effective ways to make you fly – and crash.

Falling apart in front of somebody, allowing them to see you in such a raw, uninhibited state, is an incredibly vulnerable act.

Joel is not taking your trust lightly.

When he sees you wipe your nose with your arm, he swivels you back to his desk and opens the drawer to get you some tissues. Your heart skips a beat when you see what else is inside, but you keep quiet.

“Was I really good?” You mumble after listening to Joel’s calming heartbeat for a few minutes.

“You were perfect, baby,” he says softly, pressing a tender kiss on the crown of your head.

“So, can you fuck me now?”

The vibrations of Joel’s chuckles reverberate beneath you, making you laugh yourself.

“How about we make sure you drink enough and eat something first, hm?”

“Just say that your refractory period is getting longer, old man.”

“Why, hello,” he laughs and pinches your sides, making you squeal, “the princess is back.” You lift your head to look into his eyes. His beautiful, warm eyes. “You think I’ll fuck you if you keep being a brat, hm?”

“That’s exactly what I think. Because you always do. Because you love it.”

“Wow,” he chuckles and shakes his head. “All this just now and you’re still sassing me?”

“Just admit you fucking love it, so we can move on and decide what we wanna have for dinner,” you murmur.

Joel can’t hold back the beaming smile that’s spreading across his face.

Save for last time, you usually leave shortly after you’ve come down. He’ll sometimes ask if you want to stay a bit, but will never pressure you into doing so – even if it hurts him.

And it does, sometimes, if he’s being honest.

“Alright, alright,” he sighs deeply, his smile betraying his mocking tone. “I fucking love it when you’re a little brat and torture me all fucking day, making me sit in a fucking meeting for hours on end with a hard cock, listening to some rich fucks who want me to build some bullshit building for them.”

You giggle at the description of his day and kiss his dimple. “I really am sorry, you know.”

“No you’re not,” he shakes his head. “Now, what are you in the mood for?”

“Can we, um, can we go eat the fattiest, unhealthiest junk food ever and then wash it down with huge cups of pure sugar, so we’re both gonna have a stomach ache for the next three days?”

“Have I ever told you you’re perfect before?”

---

You step out of the shower, dry off, wash your face with Joel’s face wash and drink a glass of water. Joel put your bag outside the door when you were in the shower, giving you space to do your thing and going downstairs to take a shower there himself.

You’re kind of tired now, feeling a little burnt out.

You put on your panties and retrieve the comfy gym shorts you were smart enough to bring with you from your bag. They’re the only other clean piece of clothing besides the dress you could find in your drawer this morning.

“Joel?” You shout from the top of the stairs.

“Yeah?”

“Can I borrow a t-shirt?”

“Sure, darlin’. Just grab one you like.”

“Thank you.”

You smile and make your way to Joel’s bedroom. Opening the drawer, your eyes fall on a white shirt you’ve seen him wear many times. Don’t do it. You sigh defeatedly and lift the shirt up to your face, inhaling the unmistakable scent.

Then you suddenly remember it. Fuck. You need to make sure.

You put on the shirt and quickly walk to the office. Taking a deep breath and making sure Joel’s not watching you snoop through his things, you open the drawer.

The polaroid feels strange in your hand as you lift it to take a closer look.

It’s one of Tommy, you and Joel in it, from the night Tommy introduced you two. You don’t even remember taking this one, but now that you’re looking at it, you see something. It’s the way you’re smiling.

You turn the photo and read the handwritten note that catches your eye.

when I met her

You swallow hard and put it back. It doesn’t mean anything. You hung the other polaroid, the one of only you and Joel, up in your apartment and that doesn’t mean anything either—right?

“Babe?” Joel’s voice pulls you back.

You turn around and look at him, startled. “I, uh, was just looking for some batteries. Couldn’t find any though.”

“I got plenty downstairs,” he says with a tilt of his head. “Come on, let’s go.”

---

You’re sitting in a booth, munching on your burger, intermittently sipping your soda. You don’t even realize you haven’t answered Joel for the third time.

“Are you sure everything’s okay, sweetheart?” Joel touches your arm, his brow furrowed. You look at his concerned face, his cute little frown, before putting down your burger with a sigh.

“I, uh,” you start but can’t think of the right words. “I’m just feeling a little off these days, I guess. Work’s been stressful and, um, you–you’re gonna think I’m weird,” you murmur while picking at the fries on your plate.

“Darlin’,” Joel sighs, taking your hand into his, “you’re the weirdest person I’ve ever met.” He chuckles when he sees your offended face. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

He rubs the back of your hand softly and searches your eyes. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“It’s, um,” you clear your throat. “Do you ever get this feeling that there’s something looming?”

He tilts his head and looks at you curiously. “I’m not sure I follow, darlin’?”

“Like if you’re happy, do you ever feel like it’s not real, it can’t be real, and there’s something looming? Like there’s something just waiting to fuck everything up?”

When he doesn’t answer, you avert your gaze and try to withdraw your hand. “I’m sorry, I’m killing the vi–”

“No, sweetheart. Hey, c’mere.” He extends both of his hands to you on the table and you give him yours to hold. “I’m sorry, darlin’,” he murmurs, “your question just caught me off guard a little.”

You softly rub his hand with your right thumb and study his features. He looks gorgeous with his tousled hair and his big cow eyes.

“Look, I know that happiness is hard to accept sometimes because we’re afraid of it not lasting. It may even seem easier to sabotage it preemptively, so we’re not disappointed or don’t get hurt when something bad does happen. And I also know that we sometimes don’t think we even deserve to be happy.”

Bingo.

“But sweetheart, I need you to understand something,” he squeezes your hands gently, his sincere eyes boring into you.

“If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”

You try your best to blink away the tears that are forming in your eyes.

---

Thank you for reading! 🤍 part 4 || part 6 || series masterlist

436 notes · View notes

tadpolesonalgae · 3 months

Text

Degraded[*]

Nesta x reader

a/n: I haven’t written anything unhinged in a while

warnings: degradation, manipulation on Nesta’s part, slight dubcon because of that, reader having a vague cnc kink, also a bit of a fear kink, dumbification, heavy d/s dynamics, collar + leash, intense humiliation, squirting, slight overstim, orgasm denial, Nesta’s definitely a mean domme in this so have fun I guess?

word count: 6,323

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You relish the cool bite of the night air as it nips at the exposed skin of your neck, content to take your time on the late walk.

The sidra is always lovely at this time of night, with the colours amplified by the darkness of the sky, and the smell of food in the air, vendors selling treats and snacks to other like-minded fae as you, who enjoy taking strolls before bed.

Alcohol permeates just below the slight smokiness of the night air, but you can manage to ignore it—you’re long past that point in your life of drinking until the sun’s rising, scrambling for clothes that were recklessly strewn off the night before. Yes, that’s all far behind you now. And you’re glad of it.

Your heels click faintly atop the cobbles, streetlights twinkling high above as you pass through various alleyways, taking your sweet time as you meander through the familiar parts of the city. Maybe it would be worth paying a visit to Rita’s…catch up with some familiar faces. It’s been a while since you last swung by, and you find yourself missing the pleasant comfort that’s always available there. The distinct coziness and security provided by the establishment.

A hand snatches at your wrist, and you nearly stumble as you’re jerked into a narrow alleyway, the abrasive texture of brick grazing your back harshly.

Your mouth opens in a yelp, but another hand has slapped over your mouth, nails tenderly biting into your cheeks as eyes the colour of mercury burn into you. Instantly you recognise the female, tension dissipating as you relax into the relief, before your brows are furrowing in question—what’s going on? Her palm recedes from your mouth but her hand remains firmly shackling your wrist, and you look at her in confusion.

“Nesta…” you greet, nervously. “How’ve you been?”

“Perfect,” she replies, her voice whispering down the vertebrae of your spine, small hairs rising at the nape of your neck instinctively at that quicksilver sound. “You?”

“Good…” you hedge, glancing about skittishly. “I’m— I’ve been good.” You swallow, trying to regain your composure. Her lips curve faintly. Oh dear…

“I haven’t seen you recently,” she drawls, stepping closer so her foot is between your own. “Have you been hiding from me?”

“Hiding from you?” You question, forcing a laugh into your voice. “Why would I be hiding from you?” Her smile sharpens faintly, a hungry glint in her eyes that has your pulse spiking. Heart stuttering further when she again raises her hand to your cheek, gently scraping a nail below your jaw to tilt your head upwards for her. Pushing a strand of hair away, tucking it behind an arched ear.

You swallow.

“So…what are you doing, out this late?” You manage to ask, head wanting to dip so you might be spared from the intensity of her gaze. The ire that seems to be continuously ablaze in the depths of her silver stare. “Evening entertainment,” she muses lightly, fingers grazing a spot she knows you find sensitive just shy of your ear, a spot below the hinge of your jaw. You inhale softly.

“And you?”

Your tongue flicks out to wet your lips, momentarily fumbling when she follows the motion. “I wanted an evening walk,” you answer, eyes averted and you glance to the relative light from the street. “Then I’ll be getting to bed,” you smile, forcing another laugh, “I like my early nights now.”

“Hmm? Has all the fun been drained out of you, lamb?” She drawls, a mirthless laugh slicing from her own lips. “Did Amren suck you dry?”

“No! No, no. I haven’t seen Amren actually since…” you fumble trying to think back, her pesky nail repeatedly scratching at that spot that has your breath trembling. Her grin widens. “Probably in a few months, at least…”

“And now I’m to understand you’ve taken to staying in, on nights like these?”

You swallow thickly, all too aware of her proximity, that wretched nail scratching away at the tender soft spot below your ear. Nod your head. “I enjoy it,” you stammer out softly. “It’s pleasant, to…be alone for some nights…” You wonder if she catches your meaning.

“Only some?”

Fuck.

“I suppose…company is nice…sometimes too…” you hedge, nervous to displease her. Anxious to slip out from her dominating presence. Her lips curve into a vicious smile, one that you’re sure would feel like steel across your mouth. “Sometimes…” she muses, eyes glinting with ravenous hunger, “tonight?”

“Uh, I don’t know about tonight…I’m quite worn out…and I’ve been falling asleep earlier, as of late, so…”

Her smile vanishes, dropping faster than a millstone through water. Apprehension strangles your throat at that look, heart pounding wildly. Her nails close around your neck tenderly, scraping as she steps closer, able to feel her breath on your lips. “Repeat that?”

You fumble, lungs trembling as your pulse spikes, and you could swear a bead of sweat gathers on your temple. You look away. “Nesta…maybe you should stay in for the night too. By yourself.”

Her nails scratch at the soft flesh of your cheeks as she grips you harder, forcing your face up. “I thought you liked being my little bitch,” she whispers sharply against your mouth, marking the involuntary shiver of pleasure that tremors up your spine. The small noise that gets caught in your throat. “Has something changed?”

“No…! Nesta, let me go…” You mumble beneath her grip, hands beginning to raise to pry her fingers away, but one sharp glare has them recoiling to your chest. “My sexuality is as it’s always been, but that doesn’t entitle you to it…” you whimper softly, fingers trembling beneath that barely restrained ferocity.

Her temper seems temporarily soothed in the blink of an eye. A bat of her eyelashes and it’s gone. Then the hand on your wrist is releasing you in favour of pulling your dress out of the way, her palm sliding effortlessly between your thighs as she cups you through your underwear. Your eyes go wide, inhaling sharply as your lips part at the violation. The entitlement. Her fingers shift, and your hands ball tight over your chest as she presses at your clit.

You’re unable to look away, her silver eyes burning into your with a starving, simmering heat that’s bound you tight in her spidersilk, breath beginning to pant from your parted lips as she leans closer, mouth skimming your own. “You like this,” she murmurs, so tenderly, fingers swiping softly between your trembling thighs. “Remember how it felt? How much you enjoyed it?” She asks, removing her hand only in favour of gripping your wrist again, but you don’t think to fight against her as she brings your palm to touch her.

“Remember this?” Nesta whispers, mouth almost atop your own, hips grinding softly over your hand, riding her scent into your skin. “You loved getting the chance to put your pretty face between my thighs, getting to taste me…” she goads, “and you were so good at it too. Better than any of those males by a long shot. So good with my clit.”

Your breath stutters in your chest, heat flushing your cheeks with an overwhelming ferocity, hunger paired with fear. “Is that what this is about?” You force a whisper, lips trembling as her mouth returns to its sharp curve. “You’re bored?”

“I’m bored of not finding my satisfaction,” Nesta drawls atop your mouth. You inhale raggedly as she slips your palm into her underwear, inviting your fingers to dance through the sopping wetness of her heat. “And you will definitely satisfy me,” she murmurs, grinding down on your fingers before guiding them away. “As you always do.”

With an almost tender touch, she plies your lips apart, guiding your glistening fingers to slide into your mouth, pushing her taste across your tongue. “Doesn’t that sound wonderful?” She muses, pressing her leg between your thighs, watching how your pupils dilate at her flavour, the memories coming back to you.

She can feel she almost has you.

You swallow thickly, eyes dropping away from her own, glancing downward toward the light of the street. You’re supposed to be getting back from your walk soon…supposed to be settling into bed…supposed to be going to sleep soon…

Nesta pulls your fingers from your mouth, cupping your cheeks in both hands before carefully laying her lips atop your own. There’s the faintest taste of alcohol, but you’re surprised how sober she is…probably hadn’t had time to visit a tavern before she found you… Your breathing stutters, able to feel the faint caress of her lashes against your cheek, her tongue nimbly swiping out to taste you…and you crumble.

“Just…just tonight…?” You ask, head slightly dipped when she pulls away. A hair-raising laugh spills from her lips as she gazes down at you, hands still cupping your cheeks. “If that’s what you want to tell yourself, be my guest.” You flush, looking up at her from beneath your lashes, brows furrowed faintly. “Do you want this or not?” You mumble, trying to sound indignant but failing miserably.

“You’ve crawled on your hands and knees for a taste of my cunt before,” she drawls, pressing her thigh closer between your own, causing your breath to hitch, “you’ll crawl again, before the night is up.”

“I don’t have to come with you, you know,” you try to argue, but there’s already a distinct heat pooling in your lower belly, and she looks like she’s considering dragging you away herself if you won’t follow of your own accord. “You won’t be coming at all, if you keep up with this attitude,” she hisses, a shiver sprinting up your spine.

You look away. “You never made me come anyway…you always made me do it by myself…”

“Give me a reason for you to deserve one.”

“You…you like my mouth better than a male’s…” you mumble softly.

“You could put in half effort and still be better than a male’s. Maybe if I think you’re actually trying to make me come I’d be inclined to return the favour.”

“I always did,” you insist, flushing. “I always made sure you came. You never did anything for me…you just wanted pleasure…”

“Oh please,” Nesta hisses, shoving firmly at your shoulders, making the brick of the wall dig into your back. “Like you didn’t get off on it. I know you loved how objectified I made you feel, how much you loved getting to shut up and follow my orders. That’s why you kept coming back, because you love my kind of degradation. And that’s exactly why you’re going to drop everything for me tonight and fumble your dumb, ditzy way back to my place, just so you might get the tiniest bit of approval from me.”

You stare at her, speechless, arousal thick and heavy in the air as you flush.

“Now, I’ll ask you again,” she murmurs, and you can feel her breath as it fans across your mouth. “Do you, or do you not, want to be my good, little, bitch.”

————

Honestly, you’re surprised how clean her apartment is. Sure there’s still some clothing strewn about, but as far as you can tell the sheets are washed and crisp, the duvet recently changed, and only the faintest scent of liquor in the air. You’ll admit a part of you had been antsy at having to go over to her place, where you’d be so isolated, but… well, it looks okay, at least…

“Strip,” Nesta orders, and you turn to look at her. “Do I need to repeat myself for those dim ears of yours?” She murmurs, worryingly softly. Like the calm before the storm. You flush. Look away. “No…”

“No, what?” She probes.

You bite the inside of your lip. “No, ma’am.”

Silver eyes narrow on you, then she’s turning away, and you glance down at yourself, feeling how swiftly your body has prepared itself for her. The sensitivity in your breasts, the tingling heat between your thighs…you lick your lips, sliding the straps down over your shoulders before lifting the dress up over your head, leaving you bare save for your underwear.

“Come here,” she commands, your skin prickling at the stern tone.

Bare feet pad across the wooden floors, and she turns to face you. “You know, I thought you might be a little hesitant to return to me,” she drawls, her hands faintly skimming your bare hips, nails scraping over the thin string of underwear. “So I got you something I think you’ll like.” She applies a pressure to your hips. “Kneel.”

You settle on the floor, hands in your lap as you look up at her shyly.

Nesta’s lips curve, them her fingers are deftly releasing the strings holding the bodice of her dress together, allowing the material to go slack over her lovely form, before pulling it away entirely. Leaving her in little clothing. “Do you like the view from down there,” she muses, one palm lightly cupping her breast, the other trailing tauntingly lower, fingers slipping between her parted legs. You swallow. “Yes, ma’am.”

Silver eyes twinkle, then she’s pulling something from the drawer at her back. When you realise it’s a collar, you hurry to look away to hide the ferocious heat that’s undoubtedly ravishing your body. A single, disciplinary tut has you righting your posture, spine straightening as you incline your chin so she can attach it to you. “I knew you’d like this little thing,” she murmurs, tightening the straps so it fits well, still able to slip two fingers between the collar and your skin, before she attaches the leash.

“I told you you’d be crawling for me before the night was over,” she taunts, feet parting a little wider as she gives a short tug on the leash, beckoning you up onto your knees. She wraps the lead around her knuckles, keeping it tight when she tangles her hand in your hair. “Keep still. Don’t move until I tell you to,” she commands, giving a punishing tug.

You release an involuntary whimper as she steps forward while holding you still, a mere scrap of fabric between you and her cunt as she stands over you, close enough your mouth is pressed flush to her clit. It’s a struggle to not part your lips, with her heat and her scent right there. How her arousal is filling your every breath.

“Now, you’re going to listen carefully because I’m only going to tell you this once,” she mutters, grip tightening on you. “I think you have been avoiding me lately, and I don’t appreciate it. There are a lot of males in this city I could go to for pleasure, but very few of them would actually give it to me. Fewer still well enough to make me want to return to them, especially when it comes to knowing how to work their mouths well.”

You try to concentrate, but your mouth is watering from how dizzyingly close you are to her cunt, practically able to feel the dampness seeping through onto your lips.

Another punishing tug on your hair, pressing her hips closer, so Nesta can really only see your nose and eyes, though she’s working on making more of you disappear from her vision.

“Knowing all that, don’t you think it was cruel to vanish like you did? To deprive me of that pleasure? That only another female could give me?” She drawls, tone sharpening to something icy and bladed. “I went so long without it, you know. Missing the feel of your lovely, pretty mouth between my legs, the way you actually know what to do with your tongue. Even those dumb noises you made when I was particularly punishing to you.” She takes another small step, forcing you to crane your neck back as she settles over the lower portion of your face, nose now pressing to her clit, mouth poised to…you can’t finish the thought…

“So if you think for a second I’ll be warm and welcoming to you, grateful that you’re dumb enough to fumble your way back to me, you’re mistaken.” Her hips buck, rubbing her scent into your skin, giving in to that need to mark you as her own, so nobody else can claim your pleasure. “You won’t be getting so much as an ounce of pleasure from me,” she whispers, thumb stroking with faux-care over your scalp, “until you’ve repaid every night I’ve missed. Every orgasm I’ve had to settle for since you decided to take your mouth away from me, every half-decent lay, and the ones less that that, you’re going to make up for every, single, one of them.”

Gods, your limbs already feel weak. You need more of her.

“And you’re going to degrade yourself wholeheartedly, because your only goal tonight is to please me. Understand?”

You whimper in response, wanting to touch her, to wrap your hands around her thighs, but you know you’d only get in more trouble for that. Her lips curve, apparently satisfied with whatever she finds in your eyes, but steps away before you can get a chance to use your mouth on her.

“Now crawl,” she murmurs, making to walk over to the bed, forcing you to descend onto your hands and knees to follow after her, the leash still clutched taut in her hand. Humiliation pleasantly simmers beneath your skin as you cross the floor, a small portion of you happy to be engaging in this behaviour with her again. After so long without it.

Nesta prowls onto the edge of her bed, keeping you behind her as she settles on her knees, bringing a pillow forward for her to lie on, looping your lead between her legs. Then she settles down, tugging faintly on the leash to drag you closer. “I’ll take my underwear off when I think you’ve earned it,” she tells you, getting comfy on her bed, and you can make out the rustling of pages.

She did this a lot when you were with her before—hiding you away beneath her skirts, or tucking you under a thin sheet then turning to a book to conjure up a fantasy. Maybe not the healthiest dynamic you’ve been in, but gods did it turn you on how she demeaned and exploited you. Pretended you weren’t there for the sake of her own pleasure.

“Are you waiting for something?” She mutters, jerking hard enough on the leash you’re pulled to her cunt, parted lips settling over her centre, and she bucks her hips lightly, thighs spreading wider to get you closer.

You hastily raise into a sitting position, hungry to start working on her, to please her enough she’ll let you have a taste… She makes no noise of contentment when you lay your hands on her, but her figure relaxes significantly, muscle melting into her bed as she resigns herself over to you, and a kernel of pride blooms in your chest that you could get this terror of a woman to give herself over to you.

You swallow thickly, one palm resting on her ass while the other thumbs down her centre, getting to work on slowly building up that heat. She prevents abrupt and intense stimulation, but with the added layer of difficulty of her underwear in the way, capping the amount of sensitivity you can exploit from her, you’ll have to take a more slow, deliberate approach. You allow your breath to ghost across the inside of her thigh, nosing lightly at the intimate skin, letting her anticipation build as your fingers trail teasingly across her hind, almost reverently.

As lightly as you can manage, you press your lips over the top of her underwear, slowly, slowly making your way down, following the thin, grey silk band to where it darkens, arousal having soaked the lovely material. You can feel her tighten beneath your mouth. Nesta shifts on the bed, and a page turns.

Swallowing thickly, you press your lips to the apex of her thighs, and she snatches at the opportunity you’ve presented to grind back against the tip of your nose, tightening the pull on the leash so you’re flush with her cunt. Smoothly, you graze your palm across the exposed skin of her hind, redirecting sensitivity while you open your mouth. Gently, you lay the flat of your tongue against her clit, giving time for the saliva to soak through, so the material will be less abrasive.

Nesta shivers as you apply a slight pressure, grip slackening on the leash enough for you to run your thumb down her centre, switching positions to lick at the dip between her thighs, softening the already wet material, sucking on it lightly to better taste her arousal. Her spine curves faintly as you push the pad of your thumb to her clit, oscillating slowly as you focus on working her up, tongue flicking at her entrance.

When she begins to get impatient, tightening her hold on your leash, you switch back. Your thumb rests over her entrance, circling thrice before slipping beneath the dove-grey silk, pressing flush to her heat. Nesta rolls her hips down, and you kiss up her centre, pressing your middle and further finger against her, soaking them in her slick and it takes all of your discipline to keep from licking at them right then and there. Only in favour of sinking them inside of her, feeling how she grips at your digits, already knowing how much pleasure they can bring.

“Hurry up,” she mumbles, but you can hear the slightly breathless note in her voice, the way her hips are winding, and anticipation builds in the pit of your belly.

Focusing on pumping and curling your fingers, you continue applying that pressure to her clit—more than anything that’s been the kind of stimulation she’s been missing, so it’s the kind you will target. Relentlessly. When you have better access to her, that is. For now, you’re searching. It’s been a while since you’ve been with her, and you need to re-familiarise yourself with her— there.

Her toes curl, body moving atop the pillow as she squeezes at your fingers, clenching around them when you brush up against a spot she likes. Your lids flutter with pleasure, sealing your lips over her heat, pushing your fingers further inside to better rub their pads against that spot, kissing at her cunt while beckoning her closer…and closer… Nesta’s body goes taut, her toes curling as the orgasm releases through her, her fingers gripping the sheets as you push against that spot, not once slowing or shifting your rhythm as she flutters around your digits.

A quiet curse slips from her lips as you carry her through the aftershocks, pulling back to rub your thumb atop her clit, sending fresh pulses of pleasure through her.

Nesta raises from the pillow lethargically, like an ancient creature at last waking from its slumber, and she pulls on the leash again, dragging you to her wet cunt as she spreads her thighs, grinding over your face, the lead rubbing against her clit. You inhale deeply, hands tenderly wrapping around her thigh and calf, keeping yourself close.

A low, mocking laugh drags from her lips, forcing you to remain plastered to her cunt as arousal seeps through onto your skin, holding you there as she rides out her pleasure. “You’ve missed this, haven’t you slut?”

You whimper at the name, and she laughs again, using you like a pillow to rub and grind against until she’s satisfied.

“Now,” she instructs, settling higher onto her hands and knees, “I want you to remove my underwear. Don’t use your hands, and don’t lick anything. Get to work.”

You swallow a moan, rising higher to latch your teeth over the band at the base of her spine, forcing yourself to drag the material away and keeping your mouth to yourself. It’s a harder task than it sounds, watching the slick fabric peel away, strings of silvery arousal webbing between her thighs, the heavy traces of her orgasm difficult to ignore, but you manage to complete your task. Enough so that Nesta shifts on her own, removing her underwear when you’ve tugged it down to her thighs, exposing her to the cool air of the bedroom.

“Come up here,” she instructs, shifting along the bed to make room for you, and you follow swiftly, crawling up onto the plush mattress. Her lips curve when you pause a healthy distance from her. “Closer,” she drawls, reaching for your lead but you scurry forward before she can tug on it. But still, “closer.”

You pause when your knees might as well be brushing her own, hands set in your lap as you look up at her nervously.

“There were a few things that surprised me, when I first decided to try you on,” Nesta muses, letting her fingers roam across the top of your thigh, moving in faintly circular patterns. “One of them was how shameless you were,” she continues, “I couldn’t fathom ever submitting myself in the way you do. But I suppose that’s why I’m the one who does the degrading, not the other way around.”

Her fingers persist on their travels, skimming to the inner part of your thigh, and when she taps her nail twice, you shyly part them a little. Nesta hums slightly, and her palm slides between your legs, fingers running over the damp material clinging to your hips, dragging them over your sex teasingly, noticing possibly for the first time just how you react to her touch—hands tightening into fists just shy of your knees, the increase of temperature in your skin, that wonderfully bashful look that’s kept in the set of your brows.

“But I think what I found the most surprising was how, despite your pretty exterior, how you put yourself together, your composure and polite demeanour,” she smiles, and no good can come of that smile. You feel yourself getting wetter, aching for her, but as if sensing that acute need, she pulls away, instead dragging her underwear closer. “All of that was put together to hide that nasty little fixation of yours, hm? Isn’t that right?”

She circles the tip of her finger atop the mattress, in one of the holes for her legs, and you swallow thickly, catching the way a section of the material glistens with a thick coating of slick. Hers. Her orgasm.

You’re too busy off in your own world that you don’t notice her hand until it’s gripping your jaw, nails lightly piercing your skin as she holds you still. “You’re so dirty beneath all of that,” she mutters, fingers curling around the band that would settle at her hip, “and yet you have the guile to try and act so innocently to the world. Pretend you’re so sweet, and quiet, and charming. But I know better.”

She grips her underwear in her hand, fingers squeezing firmly at the hinge of your jaw and you have no time to think as she shoves the erotic flavoured part of clothing into your mouth, holding you still so you’re utterly under her control.

“So dumb beneath all that, aren’t you? Silly, stupid, foolish girl,” she hums, pressing down on your tongue to draw more whimpers from your throat, mind fogging at her rough touch. “There’s nothing going on behind those eyes of yours, is there? Not a single thought, other than trying to memorise what I taste like, trying to conjure up a dirty little fantasy to help get yourself off. Not even trying to please me anymore, are you?”

Nesta’s silver eyes glint like mercury as she rubs her fingers over your tongue, infusing her flavour with your saliva, making sure you get all of it in your mouth.

“How hot and bothered would you get if I tied you up and left you tucked away beneath my bed for a few hours, with my underwear gagging your dumb little mouth to stop it from making any more of those stupid noises?” She croons, moving closer, rising up onto her knees so you have to look up at her. “Would you like that?” She whispers, a power-hungry gleam in her eyes. “What else can I make you do, hm? How far will you go for me, if I tell you to? Wear that collar in public for me? Let me permanently mark those thighs of yours? Spend full days on your hands and knees for me? I bet you’d love that last one, such a pathetic little slut, aren’t you?”

Nesta laughs, gripping you tighter as a wetness shines on your lashes, able to smell as your arousal spikes, humiliation flushing your skin.

“Go on,” she mutters atop your mouth, smiling cruelly. “Tell me how you’re my perfect little slut.”

Your eyes widen, looking away, tongue swiping across your lips when she pulls her underwear from your mouth expectantly. “Nesta…that’s a bit far…”

“Hm? A bit far?” She parodies, making to lay back on her mattress, that smug, domineering smile staying on her perfectly curved lips. “You don’t get to say I’m going a bit far when you’ve waited hours on your knees beneath my vanity for me to give you the okay to stick your ditzy face between my thighs.”

Your lips part on a shocked inhale, vicious flame engulfing your body whole, like you’ve been dunked in a slightly too-hot bath and need to be getting out.

Nesta smirks, laying back into the plush cushioning of her pillows, legs bending at the knees to spread herself open, and you flush further when she beckons you over, a single elegant finger directing you toward her exposed, dripping cunt. “Come over here,” she murmurs, still looking smug.

Shyly meeting her gaze, you crawl forward, settling lower to the bed as you open your mouth, anxious to finally lay your tongue over her, to bury your face into the sopping wetness of her pussy. But Nesta hasn’t let her original plan go, and you squeal when her nails rake across your scalp, holding you in place, less than an inch from her lovely cunt. So close you could probably lick her, if you tried.

“I told you to say it,” she whispers in a tone that sounds like it’s trying to mimic care. A little whiney, a little taunting. Wholly mocking.

“Go on,” she encourages, lips curving into that smarmy little smile again, “say you’re a pathetic little slut. Or I’ll be more than happy to toss you back to the streets.” You can guess that’s a lie after how she sought you out, but her pride is fierce enough, and she’s stubborn enough to possibly follow through…

Silver eyes pierce into you. “…I’m…your…”

“Where are you looking?” She drawls, tugging on your hair once, redirecting you to her cunt. “I know what you are. Tell her.” She pulls you closer, so her arousal glistens on your lips, and it would be so easy to flick your tongue out…

Your toes curl with embarrassment, an arousing twinge of shame unspooling in your abdomen as you lower your gaze to her pussy. “…I’m…I’m your pathetic little slut.”

Nesta laughs, spreading her legs wider as she pushes you against herself, hips winding against you as her thighs squeeze either side of your head in pleasure. “I knew you’d say it,” she taunts, “too desperate to go without it. Dumb, ditzy, desperate slut.”

You could moan from how good it feels to be so intimately placed in relation to her bare heat, feeling how she’s lightly riding your face, swiping her hips up and down to glide across your slick-soaked features, liking how your mouth feels pressed flush to her entrance, nose pressing at her clit. “Get started,” she muses, a little breathless, thighs squeezing you with need. “You’ve got a lot to make up for.”

Your lips part, and her flavour rushes in, pulled further into your mouth with every fervent swipe of your tongue through her centre, parting her until the tip reaches her clit, circling and trailing around it in the way she’s been yearning for. Nesta’s hips buck with pleasure, and you close your lips around her, suckling eagerly while your palms wrap beneath her legs, skimming the tops of her thighs as you drink her taste down, so much more concentrated that what you got from her underwear.

Gods, she’s heavenly.

Nesta curses on a low, rushed exhale, grappling for her book again, and you flush as she balances it across her sternum, effectively blocking you out once more. You feel at least a small part of you should be indignant about her obsession at refusing to acknowledge you, but it allows you to focus on her.

Carefully removing your hand from her thigh, you trail down to her entrance, pushing your tongue against her, lapping and flicking against her as you begin pushing small circles into her clit. She inhales sharply, and you know the sound. It’s always different when it’s someone who understands what’s going on between your legs, who can choose to target sweet spots and use them to their advantage. Your tongue flattens against her, pushing inside, and the circles become tighter; meaner. Rapidly dragging her closer, making use of the sensitivity you’ve created from that first orgasm.

The curses become more frequent, though they’re all barely muttered under her breath. You switch around, lips wrapping around her clit to suck while your hand slides lower, slipping in your middle and forth finger with arousing ease.

She’s so wet.

You know it’s helped on by the first orgasm, but even then, she’s practically drooling slick onto the sheets, even after you’ve spent so long licking it up.

“More,” Nesta murmurs, voice breathy and undone; you follow obediently.

You know exactly where to touch, where to rub up against again, curling your fingers and keeping in rhythm with the suctioning pulses you’re creating with your mouth and tongue, pulling her clit between your lips and circling the tip of your tongue against that sensitive part. You can feel how it’s hardened from the stimulation, growing taut beneath your ministrations.

Nesta’s spine arches, and you keep pushing against that spot, knowing exactly the kind of reaction it’ll reward you with.

She makes a strained noise in her throat, deep and breathy, book falling aside as she tries to cover her mouth as the second orgasm gushes through her…and from her. You moan as she splashes onto you, a little taken aback, having forgotten what it was like to have her soaking you.

Heated, silver eyes glance downwards, a beautiful pink flush heavily colouring her cheeks, and you have to press your thighs together when she reaches down and spreads herself apart, making an upside-down V with her fingers, intentionally squirting across your face, taking her pleasure in marking you so territorially. You get the vague impression it’s turning her on more that it is you.

Nesta doesn’t once look away, practically coming again from the humiliation of it all, her lips curving in a feline grin, dripping feminine satisfaction, sinking into the luscious plushness of her pillows. As if she’s finally back where she belongs, after being denied her rightful position.

Her fingers shakily roll over her clit, delivering slow, almost lazy circles that cause her thighs to flinch with each pass, and you obediently return to lapping at her heat, gently licking up the orgasm from her dripping pussy, careful not to waste a single drop.

With a steadied grip, Nesta pulls on your leash, and you rise desperately from her heat, your own cunt aching for some kind of relief.

“Nesta…it’s your turn,” you insist softly, a deep flush on your cheeks from how needy you sound. She arches an eyebrow, and your brows curve with desperate frustration. “Nesta, you said you wouldn’t do this,” you whine, following her pull on the lead until you’re hovering above her, poised to lower yourself to her breasts should she order you to. “Please, I need to cum so badly…”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t touch yourself,” she muses, two finger looping directly beneath your collar to pull you closer to her mouth. “I can sit on your face, while you use those talented little fingers on yourself,” she croons, lips brushing against your own, making you release a noise of disappointed frustration.

“No, you said…” you fumble, recalling that she didn’t exactly say anything. “I’m not… I’m leaving if you don’t. It can’t just always be for your pleasure, you know. I’m serious this time. I’ll leave…” Nesta’s lip curls, silver flame blazing bright in those tormentingly beautiful eyes of hers, inciting both your fear and your arousal. “You aren’t stepping foot outside this bedroom, much less getting to come on your own until you make me do that at least two other times,” Nesta hisses against your mouth, a snarl coming through from beneath.

“And don’t even think about trying to sneak yourself some relief now,” she mutters, a punishing ire gleaming hot in her silver stare. “Pathetic little sluts don’t get to cum. Now stop whining. I told you exactly what you were in for before we started, so don’t try and act all shy now,” she tells you, her legs moving to guide you into the next position she wants, dragging you back down her body to continue servicing her aching pussy.

Her mouth shifts with knowing, a distinctly self-satisfied expression passing over her cruelly honed features, voice softened to a mocking drawl.

“This is exactly what you want.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover

#nesta x reader smut #nesta x reader #dom!nesta x reader #dom!nesta x reader smut #nesta archeron #x f!reader

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its-all-or-nothing94 · 1 year

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Racing Hearts - Part 1 // Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc, a beloved and celebrated F1 driver, yearns for a meaningful connection amidst the glitz and glamour of his high-profile job. As the Monaco GP is around the corner, he fatefully crosses paths with Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary girl who captures his heart with her genuine personality and kind spirit.

Masterlist

Warnings: None

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

A/N: Sooo, this is my first F1 Story :) I hope you enjoy it. It's a typical romance for all you romance lovers out there ;) Like, Reblog, tell me what you think :D It's highly appreciated!

Disclaimer: This story is purely fictional, and any character portrayals are just how I wrote them - hence fictional! I don't know them, except my OCs.

Tagging: @liebgotts-lovergirl, @softly-writes, @bellewintersroe (I thought, you might enjoy this ;))

The streets of Monaco shimmered under the golden rays of the sun, casting an ethereal glow upon the grand city. You stood at the edge of the bustling harbor, your eyes wide with wonder. You had arrived in this glamorous playground by chance, a spontaneous detour on your adventure across Europe. The winding cobblestone streets, the opulent yachts bobbing in the azure waters, and the hum of wealthy tourists filled the air, creating an atmosphere of indulgence and sophistication.

Your Y/H/C hair fell softly around your sun-kissed shoulders as your Y/E/C eyes scanned the crowd, searching for your best friend, Sofia. Minutes turned into an impatient eternity until, finally, a familiar figure emerged from the throng. Sofia Santoro, her dark hair cascading down her back, approached with a radiant smile that reached her warm brown eyes. You embraced, reuniting after weeks of exploration and discovery.

"Y/N!" Sofia exclaimed, her voice alive with excitement. "You won't believe the sights I've seen! And the food... Oh, you have to try the pastries here. They're heavenly."

You chuckled, your spirited personality shining through. Sofia lived here for a year now, and finally, you came to visit your best friend. "I can't wait to hear all about it, Sof. Monaco truly is a dream."

As you strolled through the luxurious streets, your laughter mingling with the splash of waves, an unexpected occurrence startled them. You stumbled, your steps faltering as if an invisible force had collided with you.

"What is it?" you asked your best friend, but Sofia just looked at you, confused.

"I didn't say anything... But hey, there is that store I told you about. Be right baaack", she sings as she walked away into the store across from the harbor.

You, meanwhile, stood at the edge of the Monte Carlo harbor, your eyes wide with wonder as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the glistening water. The air was thick with anticipation as if the city itself was holding its breath, awaiting the arrival of someone extraordinary.

You took a deep breath, the salty scent of the sea mingling with the aroma of fresh pastries wafting from a nearby café. Your heart fluttered with excitement as you adjusted the strap of your worn leather backpack, the only constant companion on your solo adventure across Europe.

"A breathtaking view, isn't it?"

You turned your head, Y/E/C eyes meeting the warm gaze of a stranger beside you. Chestnut hair, emerald green eyes, and a smile that could light up the night sky - it was as if destiny had brought you together at this very moment. Your heart skipped a beat as you stumbled back, blushing furiously.

"Uh, yes, it is," you stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The young man chuckled, a sound that was both melodic and infectious. "Apologies if I startled you. I couldn't help but notice your awe as you took in the beauty of Monaco."

Your cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson, your Y/H/C waves tumbling down to frame your face. "It's just...I've dreamed of visiting this place for so long. And to see it like this, it's...magical."

"I couldn't agree more," he replied, extending a hand. "I'm Charles, by the way."

You couldn't say much as you were captivated by him. "Euh Y/N," you managed to squeak out, a shaky hand reaching out to meet his.

Your fingers intertwined an electric current passing between you. At that moment, the noise of the bustling harbor faded, and it was as if they were the only two people in the world.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N," Charles said, genuine warmth in his voice. "Are you enjoying your time in Monaco?"

You nodded, a shy smile gracing her lips. "I am. I've been traveling across Europe, and this is my last stop. My best friend moved here last year. Her dad is a designer, and she took over the store here. But it feels...right, being here."

Charles's eyes sparkled with interest as he leaned in closer. "And for how long are you staying?"

You hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. But with Charles, there was a certain comfort, an inexplicable connection that compelled you to share the truth.

"I actually don't have a set schedule. I'm a freelance photographer taking a break, so I... have no obligations."

Charles chuckled, his cute dimples appearing on his cheeks. "That actually sounds quite nice. Not having any obligations, I mean."

You smiled at him as the bell on the store door rang, and Sofia made her way back to you.

"Okay, I've got everything, we can... go," Sofia said, the last word hesitant, finally noticing Charles. "Uh, hi," she greeted, and Charles nodded in response with a small smile.

A young man who bore an uncanny resemblance to Charles walked out onto the street from behind him. You guessed that this must be his brother. He called out something in French and waved at Charles, eyeing him for a second, before disappearing back into the restaurant.

"I have to go," Charles said. "But maybe we'll see each other again, Y/N. It was really nice meeting you."

He nodded at Sofia before following his brother into the restaurant. You watched him leave with a content smile.

"Oh my god! Do you know who that was?!" Sofia exclaimed as soon as Charles was gone.

You looked at her, confused, while you shrugged. "He said his name is Charles."

"Yeah, Charles fucking Leclerc! The Formula 1 driver? Don't tell me you don't know him?"

Sofia raised her eyebrows at you, making you feel foolish.

"What?"

Sofia put her hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. "You just flirted with one of the most famous Formula 1 drivers there is. He's from Monaco, and you, my dear, didn't even recognize him."

"Why would I? I've never watched Formula 1!" you defended yourself.

Sofia shook her head. "No, you haven't. But he definitely had his eyes on you, girl." Sofia smiled widely and nudged you.

"So? It's not like I'm going to see him again," You shrugged, turning your gaze back to the ocean.

"Oh, don't be so quick to dismiss it, girlfriend. Monaco is a magical place. And if he wants to find you, he will find you, I promise."

Meanwhile, at the restaurant, the Leclerc family had gathered, rejoicing in the reunion of all the children back in Monaco.

"Who was that? Another tourist fan?" Arthur inquired, settling down beside their mother, Pascale, and their brother Lorenzo.

"No, actually, she wasn't," Charles responded. "I don't think she even knew who I was."

Pascale glanced at her two sons. "What are you talking about, mon chéris?" she asked just as their entrees arrived.

"Charles was talking to a girl outside. I thought she was a fan," Arthur explained, and Pascale turned her attention to Charles.

"A girl?"

Charles seemed slightly irritated by his younger brother. "It's nothing, Maman. We were just discussing Monaco, nothing more."

Pascale studied her son's face. She knew him well enough to sense that there was more to the story than met the eye.

She sighed. "Well, as long as you don't plan on rekindling things with that dreadful Isabella..."

"Maman!" Lorenzo interjected, shaking his head slightly.

"What? They're not together anymore, so I can speak my mind, can't I?" Pascale asked, looking at Charles, who shook his head, annoyed.

Charles loved his mother, but she had a tendency to be outspoken, even when it would be best to hold her tongue. Charles knew his mother had never approved of his ex-girlfriend, Isabella Rossi. They had met at a charity event in Monaco, where Isabella's wealthy businessman father and her career as a model brought them together.

Initially, Isabella was sweet and caring, and Charles had fallen deeply in love with her. However, after four years, his feelings changed. When he confided in his brothers, best friend Pierre, and his athletic trainer Andrea Ferrari, they all agreed that their relationship had become toxic.

Ending things with Isabella hadn't been easy for Charles. The life of a Formula 1 driver could be lonely, constantly jetting around the world. Having someone who cared about him was a comfort. But eventually, Charles accepted the fact that his feelings had faded, and he ended the relationship. Needless to say, Isabella didn't take it well.

That had been a month ago, and ever since, she had made numerous attempts to win him back. As the Monaco Grand Prix was just around the corner, she knew Charles was back home.

"You can, Maman, and you know it. But can we just enjoy dinner and talk about something else?" Charles asked, digging into his pasta.

"She was really pretty," Arthur chimed in, causing Lorenzo and Charles to look at him, perplexed. Arthur couldn't be referring to Isabella. Arthur, noticing his brothers' confusion, rolled his eyes. "The girl outside? She was really pretty. Are you going to see her again?"

Charles glanced at Arthur for a moment. "Why would I?" he asked, although deep down, he wanted to. There was something about Y/N that stirred something inside him as if she were something special.

"Why not? Don't tell me you don't want to see her again. I saw the way you looked at her, Charles."

Charles took a deep breath. "Even if I wanted to, Art, I don't have her number, just her first name. I don't even know where she's from."

Arthur looked at Charles with an exasperated expression. "Are you shitting me?"

"Arthur!" Pascale immediately intervened.

"Sorry, Ma. But seriously, Charles. You know that if you want to find her, you will. We all know that. So get off your ass and go find that girl!"

"Is she really that special?" Lorenzo asked, looking at Charles.

The middle brother hesitated and then nodded. "I don't know why, but I have this feeling that our story isn't finished yet."

Pascale kept a watchful eye on her son. She took a deep breath and spoke up. "Then why don't you look for her, Charles? If she truly is that special."

Charles looked surprised at his mother. Pascale wasn't one to believe in fate, but if even she was advising him to pursue it, then he knew he should.

He set his fork down and gazed at his family, one by one. "Okay, starting tomorrow, we'll begin searching for Y/N."

"We?" Lorenzo immediately questioned, but Arthur simply nodded and grinned.

Basking in the warm Mediterranean sun, you and Sofia lounged beside the pool at Sofia's opulent apartment the next morning, which her father had graciously rented for her. You relaxed, sipping on glasses of wine and sharing laughter as you reminisced about your European escapades. However, Sofia's mischievous grin indicated that she had something up her sleeve.

"Sooo, Y/N," Sofia said, her grin widening, "Oh my gosh! I can't get over what went down yesterday with Charles Leclerc!"

You blushed slightly, attempting to downplay the encounter. "Oh, come on, Sof. It wasn't that big of a deal. We just chatted for a few minutes. It doesn't mean anything."

Sofia playfully raised an eyebrow. "No big deal? I saw the way he looked at you, and trust me, that wasn't ordinary. Charles is a charming guy, but he's not usually so forward with strangers."

You took a sip of her wine, trying to conceal your excitement, and shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, he was simply being friendly, right? I mean, he interacts with fans all the time. I didn't even know who he was until you told me."

Sofia shook her head, her grin refusing to fade. "Are you serious? The way he gazed at you, Y/N. Trust me, he knows you left an impression."

You shook your head at your friend, well aware of Sofia's tendency to read too much into things. "Yeah, right."

"But Y/N, I've seen Charles with fans before. He's usually reserved, quiet. Yet with you, it was like there was something more. He couldn't take his eyes off of you," Sofia stated, sitting up from the sunbed and raising her sunglasses. "I'm serious!"

You looked at your best friend, your cheeks tinged with a hint of red. "I-I don't know what you're talking about. It was just a chance encounter, nothing more."

Sofia's eyes sparkled with excitement as she continued to prod. "Oh, come on, Y/N! You can't deny the connection between you two. It was written all over his face."

You rolled your eyes. "Could you just stop? I'm not even looking for someone at the moment, and you know that. After everything that happened with Oliver..."

Sofia sighed. "I know, I know. He was a jerk, and you've sworn off love. Got it." She slipped her sunglasses back on. "But I'm still rooting for the perfect celebrity love story." She reclined back into her chair.

You glanced over at your best friend, and then you couldn't help but burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

You lingered at the pool a little longer, enjoying the warm sun on your skin. Suddenly, Sofia's phone interrupted your peaceful moment. She quickly answered, speaking rapidly in both Spanish and French. After hanging up, she turned to you with an apologetic look. "Please don't be upset with me," she pleaded, and you raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Sofia sighed, explaining, "There's an issue at my dad's store that he insists I handle personally. I'm really sorry, Y/N."

You studied your best friend for a moment before responding, "No worries, Sof. I can handle some alone time."

Sofia observed your determined expression. "Are you sure? I promised I would clear my schedule for you."

You sat up and grasped Sofia's hand. "Hey, don't worry about it. I've been traveling solo through Europe for the past six months, so I think I can handle an afternoon alone."

Sofia chuckled, grateful for her best friend's easygoing nature. That was one of the reasons she loved you so much.

Thirty minutes later, Sofia arrived at her father's store. "Okay, what's the problem?" she asked her employee, Cassandra, who explained the situation. The problem turned out to be more time-consuming than Sofia had anticipated. After three exhausting hours, they finally resolved everything. Annoyed, Sofia walked to the counter and set down her phone, which she had used frequently throughout the afternoon. Suddenly, the bell above the door jingled, causing her eyes to widen.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, her gaze fixed on the individual who had just entered the store. With a wide grin, she approached none other than Charles Leclerc, accompanied by his brother Lorenzo. "I knew you would come back."

Charles looked at her, initially confused, before recognition dawned on him. "Wait, I saw you yesterday, didn't I?"

Lorenzo glanced between Sofia and Charles, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Yes, you did. At the harbor!" Sofia replied excitedly.

"So, we finally found her?" Lorenzo asked hesitantly, trying to make sense of the situation.

Sofia smiled at Lorenzo. "Yeah, it's not her," Charles clarified, causing Lorenzo's attention to snap back to his brother. "But she's the friend with the designer store."

Sofia maintained her smile, shrugging lightly. "That's me, and I'm thrilled you found me. But on the other hand... How?"

Charles chuckled. "Y/N mentioned that she was visiting a friend here who owns a designer store. So we went from store to store today, searching for a clue. And now we've found you."

"You searched all over for her?" Sofia asked, amazed. Charles nodded. "That's incredibly sweet."

A faint blush tinted Charles' cheeks. "So, can you tell me where she is?"

Sofia's smile persisted as she replied, "No."

Lorenzo's head shot up, confusion etched on his face. "No?"

"No... I mean, yes, but let me explain. She's at my place and, well... Okay, never mind. I have a proposition for you. Y/N and I will be at Jimmy'z tonight, so why don't you surprise her and join us there?" Sofia proposed, locking eyes with Charles before glancing at Lorenzo.

Charles exchanged a brief glance with his brother before turning back to Sofia. "We'll be there!"

Lorenzo looked at his younger brother, still perplexed. "We will?"

Charles met Lorenzo's gaze with a firm expression. "We will," he affirmed.

Sofia's grin widened, and she nodded enthusiastically. "Great! OMG, Y/N will be overjoyed when she sees you. She didn't want to believe me when I told her you would search for her and that you two had a special connection..." Sofia rambled, noticing Charles' amused expression.

"Sorry," Sofia finally said, realizing she had been babbling.

Charles chuckled. "It's okay. See you tonight." He took his brother's arm, and they exited Sofia's store.

A mischievous smile played on Sofia's lips as she watched them leave. Oh, Y/N was going to love this.

Upon returning home, Sofia found you emerging from the shower, clad in towels. As you applied moisturizer, Sofia entered the room with a smile on her face.

"Oh, you're back," you greeted your best friend.

"I am, and I come bearing gifts as an apology for taking so long," Sofia replied, placing a jaw-dropping black dress with golden sequins on your bed.

Curiosity piqued, you examined the beautiful garment. "Sof, no! I can't accept this, and you know it," you protested. You were well aware of Sofia's affluent background and her tendency to shower you with gifts, but you always declined.

"Come on! It's from my store, and I insist, Y/N. I want you to have it," Sofia insisted, revealing a pair of matching shoes from behind her back.

Your fingertips trembled with anticipation as your gaze shifted from the mesmerizing dress to Sofia and back again. With a gentle, hesitant touch, your fingers delicately brushed against the luxurious fabric. It felt soft and smooth beneath her touch, its fine craftsmanship evident in every thread. The sensation sent a shiver of excitement through you, making you appreciate the dress even more. "No, Sof... I wouldn't even know when to wear it..."

"Oh, I do! How about tonight, at Jimmy'z?" Sofia proposed.

"Jimmy'z?" you questioned. "Oh, no, Sof! You know I despise those types of clubs..."

Sofia draped her arm around you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Well, that's a shame, but there's no way you're getting out of this one, my dear. I've already made all the arrangements."

With that, Sofia pranced out of your room, leaving her best friend in stunned silence. However, a smile crept onto your lips as you shook your head in amusement. Once again, you gazed at the dress. It truly was a stunning piece, and in that moment, you felt a flicker of excitement at the thought of wearing it tonight.

>> Part 2

#Charles Leclerc #Charles Leclerc x Reader #Charles Leclerc Fanfic #Formula 1 x reader #Formula 1 #Charles Leclerc Romance #Formula 1 Romance #Ordinary x Celebrity #Celebrity relationship #Racing Hearts #Kim writes again

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ghoststyles · 1 year

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Fairway to Heaven Part 8

8K.... 🤠👍

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Harry prides himself on his ability to keep his composure. He has to as a boss, a mentor, a partner. But in this moment, he feels out of his mind. His love, his reason for being some days, wants nothing to do with him while he’s an entire ocean away.

While he’s over the moon about meeting Oliver and mending burned bridges with Camille, he’s ready to fly home. He has two more weeks in France. Time he can spend changing Briar’s mind.

He reaches for his phone to reply to Camille.

Everything is alright now. I’ll be at the pitch shortly.

Ok. See you soon.

Harry inhales through his nose and exhales through his mouth in hopes of putting on his brave face. Parents have to do this all the time, he thinks. He didn’t think he’d need it, but he packed his Xanax anyway. With shaky hands, he pulls the container of pills from his toiletries, not even taking a swig of water to wash it down.

Barely able to look in the mirror, he lifts his head painfully to find his eyes puffy and swollen, and his chest red from the panic rash that formed. His mind is reeling from Briar’s sudden flip on him and his heart hasn’t stopped hammering in his chest.

Walking over to the dresser, he stumbles on the edge of his suitcase. He angrily shoves it with his foot before pulling a pair of jeans and a light sweater from the drawer. He dumps his rings out of their cinched pouch onto a towel on the table, staring at each of them before putting on his usual suspects. The ruby ring he and Briar picked out together on a whim sends a shiver down his spine.

They’d just eaten lunch, and were wandering aimlessly down the street of a nearby town when Briar spotted a pawn and thrift shop. The smell of mothballs and incense overwhelmed their senses, but Briar pulled them further in, slowly analyzing the unique pieces. She hovered over a jewelry case when she pointed to the square ruby stone and metal band.

“You need one,” she reached for his left hand, lifting up his pointer finger. “For this one. It’s empty.”

“Y’think?” He smiled at her, staring at her lips.

“Yeah,” she poked her tongue in her cheek while lifting his hand to rest on the hollow of her neck. “‘d feel good right here.”

Harry’s jaw locked before rolling his eyes, “Not now, Birdie.”

The sound of the street below breaks Harry from his train of thought. He’d better go if he wants to make it to Oliver’s game on time. He calls his Uber, but not before sending Briar a text.

🦊: Please don’t do this, love. Get some sleep and call me when you wake up. I’ll talk all night if we have to. I love you.

Not expecting an answer, he shoves his phone in his pocket. He doesn’t smoke cigarettes, but his nervous system is shutting down on him. He wants to pop into the shop and buy some, but the gruff driver arrives minutes later, waving Harry in the car.

He lays his head against the window and shuts his eyes. The panic is slowly starting to leave his body as the pill works its magic. He watches happy couples stroll the city of love as he’s the most miserable he’s ever felt. Even more so than when Camille left him.

Harry knows she’s probably stewing with emotions, but he stops himself from blowing up her phone.

Briar is on her bathroom floor staring up at the ceiling after heaving into the toilet for an hour. It’s not food poisoning. She’s not drunk. She’s worried she’s made the worse decision of her life.

Her heart is shattered, her brain is screaming at her, and her gut feels right. Her gut is rarely wrong; but her heart is begging it to be.

It’s now close to 3AM, and there’s a slim chance of Briar getting any sleep. Part of her wants to call Harry, but she knows he promised to go to Oliver’s game. He’s probably suffering enough.

Briar knows she’s being unfair. If years of therapy taught her anything, she’s overly self-aware. Her phone buzzes, so she looks down to find Harry’s text. Her bottom lip immediately starts to quiver, trying to hold back tears.

Even though she hurt him, he’s still level-headed and sweet to her. He probably thinks she’s having one of her moments of intense feelings and needs time to calm down. It’s the scorpio moon in her; brash, intense and passionate. Gus is hovering over her as the sweat dripping from her forehead subsides. She’s grateful for his company. He seems to always sense when she’s down and is there to lick her salty tears from her cheeks.

Grabbing her phone that skidded across the floor, she dials Caroline's number. It rings and rings, so she hangs up and tries again a few moments later.

“Briar? What’s going on? Are you okay?” Caroline’s strained, sleepy voice rings through the phone.

When Briar doesn’t respond right away, Caroline knows what happened.

“Babe,” she says softly. “Did you do something?”

“Caro,” Briar says, a mix of a sob and a whine. “I talked to him on the phone and I blew up at him. I’ve fucked everything up.”

“Okay, okay. Breathe. What happened?”

“I,” Briar starts. “I told him this isn’t working. That I don’t see where I fit in all of this. He has a kid, Caro. He has to figure out how to be a dad before I can figure out how to be a step-mom. A wife,” she wails. “But I should’ve kept my fucking mouth shut until he gets back.”

“I-yeah,” Caroline exhales. “But we’re well past that, so, let’s make a plan. Do you want me to come over?”

“No, no, it’s too late. I’ll come to you.”

“Okay, be careful. I’ll see you soon.”

Briar hangs up the phone and immediately calls for an Uber. She opts to stay in her pajamas, slipping on her Ugg boots and throwing one of Harry’s hats on. It’s his hat from when he went to the Master’s tournament. He was walking on air that entire week, documenting his trip and calling her from the iconic pay-phones on the course since no cell phones are allowed.

A tear sneaks out of the corner of her eye, and she doesn’t bother wiping it. By some grace of god, she secures a driver. She watches the headlights appear through the fog, and hops into the white SUV.

“For Harry?” the driver asks.

Her ride is on his account again.

She nods before slamming her head on the rest behind her, grateful the driver doesn’t seem talkative. She looks down on her phone, fully expecting another text from Harry.

🦊: Baby, where are you going?? Please call me. It’s so late.

1 missed call from 🦊

1 missed FaceTime from 🦊

🦊: We don’t have to even talk or figure anything out, I just need to know what you’re doing. It’s so late and I’m worried.

1 missed call from 🦊

Her phone is burning in her hand from Harry blowing it up. Now she feels guilty from taking his time away from Oliver. Switching apps, she zooms into the map to find her ETA. 8 minutes.

🦊: Please. Just tell me if you’re safe.

🐥: I’m going to Caroline’s.

🦊: Okay. I love you. So much. Don’t give up on me.

🦊: Please.

Briar shoves the phone into the waistband of her pajama pants. Spotting the familiar entrance to Caroline’s neighborhood, she unlocks her seatbelt so she can bolt as soon as the car stops.

He slowly pulls up to the driveway, so Briar flies out of the car, mumbling thank you to the driver.

Caroline is standing at her garage door, awaiting her arrival. Her face is sad as she gnaws on her lower lip. Briar collapses into her arms when they finally meet. Caroline pets at her hair, waiting until she calms down before speaking again.

“C’mon, let’s get inside.”

Harry is ghostly pale sitting on the sideline of his son’s football game. The squeals and laughter from the children should be giving him that warm and fuzzy feeling, but he can’t help but feel like he’s going to vomit. He’s been discretely texting and calling Briar while trying to watch the kids play.

Camille senses his energy and quietly leans into him.

“What’s going on?”

Harry is startled, not expecting her to ask that.

“Um, I, uh,” he sputters. “My girlfriend. Just a rough patch is all.”

Camille nods, her jaw shifting a little, “I thought so. Been together long?”

“Mm, since May, I guess. Met her at Wynnewood, actually,” he says quietly, picking at his nails.

She looks at him quizzically, “Still going there? I thought for sure you’d swear it off forever.”

Harry laughs ironically, “Some of us have to deal with issues instead of running away from them.”

Her eyebrows raise at the jab, but she nods her head.

“If you need to leave and take care of it, you can come over for dinner later. Theo is making lamb,” she offers.

Harry nods appreciatively, standing up. He gets Oliver’s attention as he runs to the group for a drink of water. He waves at him, an enthusiastic smile overtaking his face.

“Bye, Oliver. I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”

“D’accord, Papa!”

Harry’s breath catches in his throat, a lump quickly forming. He looks back at Camille, a small smile donning her face that matches his, before turning to leave the pitch.

He jogs toward the metro. Looking down at his phone to pull up the map, he sees another Uber charge to his card. Puzzled, he does the math to determine the time in America.

It’s well past 3AM and Briar is going somewhere? His stomach drops, so he sends her a series of texts, tries calling and FaceTiming. Running a hand through his hair, he decides to whistle for a Taxi instead.

The driver gets him to his hotel in record time, so he throws 20 euro through the plexiglass. He ascends up the 4 flights of stairs, his asthma raging every step he takes. Being an entire ocean away, he’s not even sure what he can do right now beside continue to call her.

He sits down on the bed, his knee anxiously bouncing as he waits for her to pick up. Not expecting her to answer, he’s shocked when he hears a strained voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Briar, baby, what’s going on?”

“I came to,” she hiccups. “I’m at Caroline’s.”

Harry frowns, unsure what this means. He’s not going to have this conversation with Caroline present.

“Okay. D-do you want to talk? I just want to understand what’s going on, lovie.”

“It’s late here,” she replies. She shuffles into Caroline’s bathroom. Her foot is asleep from where they sat on the floor trying to reel in Briar’s thoughts and emotions.

“I know, but, baby, I can’t let you hang up this phone. Please tell daddy what’s going on.”

“Fucking stop, Harry!” she starts to cry again.

Harry couldn’t be more confused.

“What do you mean?” he says softly, his heart sinking.

“This is too much. You need to learn how to be a dad, Harry. Separate from me. I can’t be a part of this when there’s so much to figure out,” she sniffles quietly.

“Briar, our day to day isn’t going to change,” he reasons. “I haven’t talked to Camille yet, but I can most likely take frequent trips and even have Oliver stay with us in the U.S for a little at a time.”

“Harry. You need to put your son first.”

His jaw drops, having no idea what she’s talking about. What the fuck is he doing in Paris if he’s not putting his son first?

“I love you so much. But, I had the parent who didn’t put their kids first. And it sucked. It still hurts me to this day,” Briar chokes out. “I’m stepping away so you can be the best dad to Oliver. So he doesn’t have a memory of his dad choosing some woman who was sort of there in his life.”

Harry feels like he’s been sucker punched. He pictured Harry, Briar, Oliver and Gus spending summers together; the dog chasing the boy around the yard, and Harry and Briar cuddled by the fire watching.

He still hasn’t answered. He knows what she means; who wants to take on raising someone’s child at 24? Her family issues continue to rear their heads in different areas of her life.

“Bri—,” Harry starts, but fails. “I hear you, sweetheart. But, I don’t know how to convince you that this is a mistake. Thought we were forever? Are you not my forever?”

Briar clenches her jaw and shakes her head violently. Her head will go right through the dry wall if this continues.

“I want to be. I want to be so fucking bad,” she heaves. “But I can’t right now.”

Tears start flowing down his face. He places his right hand over his heart to make sure he’s still alive. He’d marry her the minute he touches the tarmac if it meant that she’d stay on the phone with him right now.

“Please,” he’s desperate now. “Briar, please. We’ll grow through this together. Do you trust me?”

She’s silent. She does trust him; it’s herself she doesn't trust. She had to be the glue for her brothers. She can’t be the glue in Harry and Oliver’s relationship.

“Take the time and focus on him, Harry.”

“Can I see you? When I’m back?”

“No,” she says sadly. “I’m gonna pick up my stuff at the house.”

“And that’s it?” he replies, almost angrily.

“Yes, that's it. What’s meant to happen will happen.”

Fuck fate! Harry puts his head in his hands, shaking it back and forth.

“I’m hanging up now, Harry,” she says softly.

“Briar—,” Harry says as the line disconnects. He grips the phone so tightly he could almost snap it.

Harry places his elbows on his knees to regulate his breathing. Labored, depleted pants are escaping his chest, so he shuffles his Spotify to relax. The app immediately plays Secret Language by the Shivers, a song Briar and Harry have spent countless nights dancing to while making dinner, or making out to by the fire pit. Bile bubbles to the top of his throat as it plays.

Until we meet again.

Under some street light in some foreign town.

And then you'll take my hand,

And look at me as if to say, "Are you still down?"

Briar depletes her body of all water and oxygen by the time she’s done crying. Caroline gave up on getting any sleep, so she put on John Tucker Must Die to lighten the mood.

Her eyes are bloodshot, cheeks sticky and stained with tears, jaw aching from the constant pressure. Caroline didn’t hear any of Briar and Harry’s conversation, but she pieced the situation together between Briar’s wails and hiccups.

Caroline sees both sides; a young girl so hopelessly in love, but held back by her deep-rooted family issues; not ready to raise a child. And a guy who was dealt an unfair hand and is trying to pick up the pieces. She feels for them, she really does.

It’s admirable, Briar’s approach. Removing herself from the equation allows for Harry to focus on being a father for the first time, having missed out on the first seven years of Oliver’s life.

The girls agree on giving Harry time and space to be a dad. Briar can focus on grad school and even date around if she wants. To witness two people who are good to one another and protect each others’ peace be driven apart by circumstances beyond their own makes her heart hurt.

Caroline pulls Briar in for a hug, gently petting her hair until they both finally fall asleep.

The hours drag on the more Harry stares at the blank wall in his hotel room. The sun has come and gone, and he feels like a hollow shell of a person. He’s due at Camille and Theo’s for dinner in just under an hour, but he can’t bring himself to move. His eyes are sore from crying and his stomach is still in knots.

He drudges to the bathroom to strip and jump in the shower. The scorching water runs down his back as he extends his neck to stare at the ceiling. He takes a series of deep breaths, the duration increasing of each one. It’s not until he’s gasping for air that he shuts the water off.

Tying a towel around his waist, Harry grabs his phone to make a rash decision. He dials the number, walking over to the window.

“Hey, boss!” Madison says happily. “What are you doing calling me on your leave of absence?”

“Gotta keep you on your toes. Niall been treating you well?”

The two exchange pleasantries for a few minutes, until Harry changes the subject.

“Listen, ah,” Harry starts. “Can you do me a favor? Two, actually. One, can you change my flight home and send me to Manchester next week instead? Might pop home for a minute. I’ll leave Paris a few days early.”

At this point, his heart is racing.

“Second. Can you head over to my place and change the codes for all of my exterior doors? Today? Like, as soon as possible. You can make the front door my mum’s birthday.”

“Uh, sure. Should I ask why?”

“Uhm,” he stumbles. “‘D rather not get into it.”

“Okay. Anything else you need?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks, Mads. I appreciate all of your help organizing everything.”

“Anytime. Talk to you soon.”

The call ends, and Harry feels like a piece of shit. Did he really just send his assistant to keep Briar’s belongings hostage at his house? Yeah.

He needs to buy himself time and hold on to contact with her. Is it manipulative? Yes. Does he give a shit right now? No. He’s an ocean away and his entire future is slipping from his grasp.

After Ubering home at 8AM, Briar tends to Gus and takes another run to clear her head. She runs to the same coffee shop from the week before.

“Hey, Briar,” Spencer smiles, approaching the counter to take her order. “You done that take home mid-term?”

She pops her AirPod out of her ear before shaking her head, “No, I’ve been so busy I haven’t even looked at it yet.”

“Ah, well, if you need any help, let me know. I’d be happy to review it with you,” he winks.

A nervous shiver shoots up her spine, “Uhm, yeah, thanks. I-I’ll let you know, for sure. Can I have an iced green tea? With a little sweetener and a lemon?”

“You got it,” He smiles again, turning on his heels to make the drink. He hands it to her a few minutes later before going to help another customer. This time, he took her money. She waves before popping her AirPod in and resuming her walk.

She decides to bite the bullet and go to Harry’s for her stuff before she loses the courage. The water from her shower is scorching hot, but she prays it’ll wash away the ramifications from the night before. Her neck aches from throwing a tantrum throughout Caroline’s room.

Briar scurries out the door in her favorite sweats and her hair tied in a knot on her head.

Pulling up to his house brings another round of tears to her eyes, so she lightly throws her head against the back of her seat. A deep breath escapes her nostrils, and she’s immediately reminded of Harry. She misses when he’d make her do box breathing; inhale for four seconds, hold for four, exhale for four and hold for four. She gasps for air before her eyes are met with an unfamiliar car in the driveway.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she jumps out of her Jeep before approaching the front door. Waking up the key pad, she punches in the code.

1206 - June 12th - His childhood cat, Dusty’s, birthday. She rolls her eyes. The month comes first in America, dingus.

Without acknowledging the red light that flashes twice, her body slams into the door. Confused, she jiggles the handle. Nothing. Entering the passcode again, she’s met with another flashing red light.

Backing away from the door, she looks back at the unfamiliar car. Does he suddenly have a house sitter since she opted to stay at her apartment instead of here?

Shaking it off, Briar walks to the side door that leads to a mudroom. This time, the code is 2307 - July 23rd - The day he moved to America.

Again, she’s met with the angry red light.

“What the fuck?”

As a last-ditch effort, she tries the back porch door. Again, she enters the code.

0102 - February 1st - Harry’s birthday.

The door is locked. That motherfucker!

She pounds at the door, screaming, “Hey! Open the door!”

A familiar face pops in view through the glass with a concerned look on her face. Madison.

“Briar? Hey!”

“Uh, hey, Madison. What’re you doing here?”

“Harry asked me to do a few favors for him. He asked me to change his locks for some reason. Did he not text you the new codes?”

Anger boils in Briar’s chest. Her puzzled look makes Madison speak up again.

“I’m guessing no. I can write them down for you,” she smiles, reaching into her purse for her notepad and pen.

“No, he didn’t. We broke up, actually, so,” Briar says quietly.

Madison gasps, her face contorting into a look of pity.

“Briar! Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. That’s such a shame,” she lends a soft touch on Briar’s shoulder. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be gentle with him.”

Briar nods, inhaling heavily through her splayed nostrils.

“Here, I’ll let you in now. Is your stuff inside? Is that what you came to get?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Briar bites her lip, looking down.

Madison punches the new code in and invites her inside. She lets Briar go ahead, before saying goodbye and shutting the door.

Briar stands in the entryway staring at the eerily still house. It doesn’t sound the same without Harry puttering about, playing music or loudly watching the Packers.

She laughs at her thought before remembering how angry she is at him. Pulling out her phone, she furiously dials his number.

It rings several times before it’s picked up. The person on the other end is silent.

“You’re a real fucking prick, you know that?” Briar seethes into the phone. “Don’t even give it 2 hours before you’re changing your fucking locks and keeping me from getting my shit?”

Harry winces, pulling his phone away from his ear. Camille and Theo can hear the tone of Briar’s voice through the speaker, causing them to look at Harry questioningly. Harry just finished reading a story to Oliver and tucking him in.

When he imagined being a dad when he was younger, bed time was a big part of his day dreams. Some of his fondest memories are times he was cuddled up to his mom and sister, listening to them read Shel Silverstein poems to him as he drifted to sleep.

He excuses himself from where Camille and Theo are sitting on their sofa.

“Briar, listen —,” Harry tries, ducking through the window door to their balcony. They all enjoyed a nice dinner, starting to talk about a co-parenting plan moving forward.

“No, I won’t fucking listen! Madison was just here and told me you made her change the locks. Do you know how much of a fucking idiot I just looked like?”

“I didn’t think you’d go over right away. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you,” He lies. He knew she would.

“So, you’re just going to manipulate me into staying in touch with you? What’s next? Are you going to abduct Gus from his doggie daycare?”

He has to hold himself back from smirking. Now she’s just putting ideas in his head.

“Birdie, I’m not evil,” He reasons. “I just wanted to up my security while I’m gone.”

“You are SO fucking full of shit. You knew I’d go MIA and you’re trying to Stockholm syndrome me.”

“That’s not how that wo—,” he replies but is interrupted from her frustrated groan and scream.

“FUCK YOU, H. Don’t fucking contact me again,” Briar spits at him. “Ever.”

“Birdie, please, let’s just talk!” Harry yells before she hangs up on him again.

Her vision is blurred by the fat tears forming in her eyes, fingers shaking as her thumb hovers over the block button on Harry’s contact. She closes her eyes as she presses the button, her stomach dropping to her feet.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chants sadly as she sits in his hallway, her head in her hands.

Harry’s face scrunches up as he leans against the railing of the balcony. He watches the happy people on the street below pass by, his heart thumping out of his chest.

He ducks through the window again to find Camille in the kitchen, flipping through a magazine. Her eyes meet his, waiting for him to speak.

Harry runs a hand through his hair before finally saying, “I changed my flight. Have some things to take care of,” he says solemnly.

“D’accord. Let’s get a plan in place before you go, then.”

He nods before joining her at the table.

Harry and Camille discuss a loose plan. Oliver will live with Camille and Theo, and visit Harry twice a year for a month. Harry will visit Oliver for a few weeks at a time throughout the year. She feels comfortable with Harry’s ability to take care of him, but for their first trip, she’d like to be close by.

Harry is relieved. They hug, and a hopeful feeling washes over him. For his last day, they make plans for Harry to take Oliver to the museums for the day before they say their goodbyes.

He leaves their apartment, his hands in his pockets. His heart hurts for many different reasons; searing pain over Briar, but swelling with love and adoration for Oliver. On the metro home, he spends time putting important school dates for Oliver in his calendar. He’s even started to block time off in his work calendar to be able to check in with him several times a week.

Shuffling back to his hotel, he stops by a pharmacy to grab a pack of cigarettes. Just one, he thinks. For the culture. He leans against the entrance of his hotel, lighting the stick with a match. He winces at the heat on his finger tips, waving his fingers in the air.

He inhales, letting the smoke swirl around his lungs, the heat burning his throat slightly. Coughing, a few more tears escape his eyes. He won’t last long with his asthma, but he feels the dopamine hit his brain.

He flicks the butt to the ground before heading inside. The doorman looks at him sympathetically before pressing his floor on the elevator. He pulls out his wallet to open the door with his key card.

The room is messy how he’d left it — clothes thrown about and the pillows indented from his fits of anger. He even spots the open bottle of tequila from the few swigs he took before Oliver’s game. Father of the year.

Before giving up and going to bed, he sends one text to Briar.

🦊: I’ll be here when you’re ready. It’ll always be you.

The message delivers in a green bubble.

It’s been 24 hours since Briar blocked Harry. She calls in reinforcements to help her gather her stuff. 3 of her 4 brothers arrived to Harry’s — begrudgingly, but willing to help her carry things. She frantically searched the house for their more damning items; plugs, whips, chains, ropes, gags, what have you, and hid them deep in Harry’s closet.

Her adrenaline from not sleeping and getting completely drained emotionally is taking over, so she’s suddenly energized to get this done. They grab Gus’s items and a few workout supplies she leaves in his gym. Suddenly, the space becomes more sterile and boring as her items are removed.

She buys them all pizza as a peace offering, so they spend one final evening at Harry’s. The boys avoid the elephant in the room, and opt to listen to Callum’s crazy stories from his friend’s bachelor party.

When they leave, they each hug her for a little longer. She’s grateful for their company since she’ll probably fall apart before bed again.

She stares at the house before sadly pulling away, not daring to look behind her in the mirror.

All the while, watchful eyes couldn’t stop watching this unfold through the security cameras.

He doesn’t know why he watched. If it weren’t for the annoying ping sound, he’d forget he can even view his security cameras from his phone.

Harry’s eyes were glued to the screen as he watched his girl stand on his driveway, staring sadly at his house. His number is blocked — he’s sure of it. So, he opts to be the eye in the sky instead of finding a way to contact her in some obscure way, like messaging her through her cable provider. That’s too toxic, even for him.

He had an amazing day with Oliver at the museums and going all over Paris to do his favorite things. It’s fun to tour a city in the eyes of a child. Then, they had a teary goodbye as he boarded the plane to England.

“Au revoir, Papa. Je t’aime,” Oliver sniffles.

“I love you too, buddy. I had so much fun with you,” Harry rubs his back. He kisses Oliver on the forehead before reaching to hug Camille.

“Thank you, Harry. This is a good thing,” she smiles at him. “Good luck with everything. We’ll talk soon about travel plans.”

Harry nods, waving one more time at Oliver. He walks to the gate, quickly losing sight of his boy. Now, he’s sat watching a live stream of his girl packing her shit and leaving. She even brought in her brothers to get out of there quicker.

He angrily shoves his phone in his pocket before covering his eyes with his arm. The airport is buzzing around him, and he’s just thankful this flight home is quick. He’s excited to see his family; it’s been about a year and a half since he was in England, due to travel restrictions from the pandemic.

Unable to be alone with his thoughts, he pulls his phone back out to open his photo app. He flips through photos of himself and Oliver, Oliver and Pierre the cat, and even one of Camille and him that Oliver took. He smiles at each of them, feeling the happiness radiate off his boy’s dimpled smile.

As he scrolls, he moves further back in time. Pictures of Gus, Harry and Briar cuddled in bed, her bare body in various positions start popping up. He lowers his brightness so TSA isn’t called on him. His heart lurches at his chest when he finds a photo of their pinkies intertwined.

He snaps his eyes shut as tears blur his eyes again, so he jumps when he hears his flight number called. He’s flying coach, since it’s only an hour long flight. He stands once group 4 is called.

A woman with a small baby is ahead of him, so he offers to lift her suitcase into the overhead compartment of their row. She smiles at him gratefully as she situates into her seat.

Harry is nestled in his window seat when he shoots his mum a quick text that he’s boarded. He’s done it for every flight he’s ever gotten on.

He bunches up his DAMN. hoodie and rests it between his head and the window. His over-ear headphones are on, but he’s not listening to any music. All his liked songs on Spotify are from Briar controlling the music in the car. He’d risk playing a song they both love and end up bawling his eyes out.

The plane starts to taxi, so Harry finally presses shuffle. It’s that goddamn song again

It’s a one chance in a lifetime, sort of thing.

It’s the kind of love sent from above.

Harry takes a deep breath before frantically pausing the song and shoving everything in his bag. The woman from earlier spots his minor outburst, so she gives him a concerned, tight-lipped look. He looks away, slightly embarrassed.

They still have 30 minutes left on the flight, so Harry pulls out his moleskin notebook. He hasn’t journaled since he got kicked out of graduated from therapy. He’s scared to flip to previous pages; unsure what he’ll find.

Next thing he knows, the words are pouring onto the paper.

He’s not going to give it to her, or anything. He’s just trying to channel all of his anger and heartbreak in one direction so he doesn’t lose his mind. A small chuckle escapes Harry when he realizes this is now the second time he’s running home after heartbreak, the last one happening almost 9 years ago.

It probably makes him seem soft, but he can’t bring himself to care. He wants to be surrounded by people he loves, and maybe even a little doted on. His mom and step-dad are nearing 70, so he really should be the one caring for them.

He’s excited to see his niece and tell her all about her new cousin. She begs for a sibling all the time, so maybe this will fill the gap for her.

He doodles on the page, making sure to initial the bottom. He mindlessly draws a bluebird and a jar of honey. Just a few minutes later, the cabin lights flash, signaling their descent into Manchester. His sister and niece are picking him up, so he’s sure to have a laugh the minute he sees them.

When Harry exits the plane, he stretches his long limbs, loosening his joints and hips. He’s exhausted both physically and emotionally, so he can’t wait to pass out in the guest room.

From the top of the escalator he spots Gemma and Hattie, along with a sign he can’t quite make out. As he gets closer, he sees what the sign his beaming niece is holding.

Welcome home, Uncle Harry!

His heart bursts in his chest, so he starts to step down on the escalator to get to them faster.

“Uncle Harry!”

“Hattie!” he yells as he lifts her in the air. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too!”

“Hey, stranger,” Gemma says, pulling him in for a hug.

“Hey Gem,” Harry kisses her cheek. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“No problem. Why the last minute need to come home?”

“We’ll talk about it,” he diverts her attention as he hands Hattie his small bag for her to carry.

“Nooo! It’s too heavy,” Hattie whines.

“Where’re your muscles?” He laughs grabbing the bag back.

The three of them head to the car listening to Hattie spew every moment leading up to getting him at the airport.

Harry sits up front, resting his eyes. Gemma hasn’t said much, but she’s dying to know why Harry is home. They drive back to the house, Hattie humming some song by Jojo Siwa, whom Harry has no clue who that is to begin with.

Gemma drops Harry off at their mum’s before heading back to their own house. He promises to see them the next day at breakfast. He blows a kiss to Hattie before unloading his bags from the trunk.

His mum comes to the door as soon as she heard the trunk close. She waves to Gemma and Hattie before meeting him on the path.

“Hi, mum.”

“Hi, baby. So happy to see you,” she gushes as she pulls him in for a long hug. “I just put some tea on, if you want to go put your bags away.”

“Okay,” he says softly. He already feels like he could fall apart.

His room has been transformed into many things over the years; a yoga room, a pottery studio, and even a sauna. But, now it’s back to being a spare bedroom. He opens the wardrobe to find items from his past. Football trophies, drawings from school, and a dozen stuffed animals. His chest constricts as he looks at a small stuffed dog that Briar would probably love.

He shakes the thought and closes the door. Not bothering to unpack, he heads back out to the sitting room. His mum smiles at him, patting the seat beside her. Harry says nothing as he fixes his tea; one sugar and a dash of cream.

He clears his throat, “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

Anne flashes him a tight lipped smile, “I’ll never turn down a visit with my youngest pup. It’s been far too long, anyway.”

Harry nods, taking a small sip, only to sputter from the searing temperature of the tea.

“Just, um, going through a rough patch,” he grips the back of his neck and scratches the nape. “Was seeing a girl, and she encouraged me to make amends with Camille.”

Anne’s eyebrows raise in surprise, “So, does that mean you’ve met…”

“Yep. Yeah, I did. He’s great, mum. And Camille seems to really have changed. She and Theo are married with another baby.”

Anne has a visceral reaction to this, but says nothing.

“The girl —Briar— is 24, and, obviously, I think getting involved in something like this is daunting. But, I really thought she was the one,” he coughs. “Is the one.”

She leans in closer and rests her chin on her palm, “So, what’s going on then? Did she get cold feet?”

“I think so. Called the other day and everything just blew up. She wants me to take time to learn how to be a good father to Oliver.”

She hums, stirring her tea around.

“I get it. She’s a bit young to possibly become a step-mum. But, it’s not like he’d live with you full-time.”

“That’s what I said, but she’s not having it. Pretty sure I’m blocked on everything.”

Harry omits telling his mother about keeping Briar’s belongings hostage in order to buy himself time.

“It’s a tough situation, baby. I see both sides. Maybe just take this time apart and get into a good routine with Oliver and Camille, and then go from there.”

Harry rubs his eyes, tears threatening to fall at any minute. He can’t help but feel like it’s just not in the cards to be happy. Any sliver of happiness has been fleeting, raising his anxiety levels as the years go on.

“I’m just so tired of being unhappy,” a small sob escapes him. He’s trying to breathe to stop it from happening, but he just erupts into harder, shakier tears.

Anne pulls him in for a hug, wrapping her arms around him tightly. He feels stupid. He’s reminded of the times he cried this hard; when his cat, Dusty, died, or when he was caught smoking weed for the first time, and, of course, the weeks after Camille left.

He remains like that for almost a half hour; Anne’s grip never loosening. Once his breathing slows and the shivering stops, he moves to rest his forehead on his folded arms on the table.

“You can stay here as long as you need to, sweetheart.”

“Hey, Bear,” Patrick’s cheery voice rings over the phone.

Briar is laid up in her bed, curtains drawn, not a peek of sunlight coming through. It’s been 6 days since she blocked Harry. It’s like one of her limbs is missing.

That’s the thing about routine; when it’s disrupted, it can be impossible to go back to normal. She’s been operating on autopilot, and is due for a breakdown soon.

“Hi,” Briar squeaks.

“It’s been a while. Haven’t heard from you or seen you at Wynnewood. Why are you hiding?”

Briar scowls to herself. He knows her too well.

She coughs in order to buy herself some time, or an excuse. “Just been feeling burnt out lately. Busy with school. Everything’s fine, Uncle Patrick.”

He hums, but she can tell he isn’t buying it. After years of going head to head with him, he knows how to play offense.

“We’re having some people over on Saturday. All the boys will be there, too. Bring Harry if he’s around.”

Briar inhales sharply at the sound of his name.

“Mhm, okay. I’ll let you know,” she mumbles. Seconds later, her eyes shoot open. “Wait. Aren’t they all out visiting mom?”

“They got back on Monday. You haven’t talked to any of them?”

Guilt bubbles to the surface. “No, I just helped Cormac book his flight. But, that was a few weeks ago.”

“Bri,” Patrick replies pointedly. “What’s going on?”

She squeezes her eyes shut, her voice cracking a little, “Nothing. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“Honey, I know you’re not telling me the truth. What is it? Is it your mom?”

Briar can barely breathe. “Yes, I’m still upset about her leaving,” she lies.

“You gotta tell me about that stuff, Briar. We’re all here to help you. Have you told Harry the whole story?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles. “He knows what he needs to know.”

“Okay. Please don’t bottle things up. It’s not good for you.”

Suddenly, Briar is 15 again, drinking for the first time and sneaking out to meet boys. Her aunt and uncle almost sent her away, but instead opted for more intense therapy, which helped.

“I know. Thank you. I love you,” she says quietly.

“Love you too, Bear. See you Saturday. Harry owes me a six pack from our bet the last time we played.”

She chokes out a fake chuckle and hangs up, throwing her phone across the room to her “everything chair” that gets covered in clothes and junk every week.

Even though it’s nearing 8 PM on a Wednesday, she’s feeling reckless. She immediately grabs her phone again, and begins typing. Her heart is beating faster than it has in weeks.

B: Hey, Spencer. It’s Briar. Want to meet up and review the take-home exam?

Harry is staying in Manchester for a few weeks. His leave of absence is over, so he had Madison ship him his laptop and order new monitors. He’s staying at Gemma’s in their guest house. It’s a little more secluded, and he can get some work done in peace.

He’s gotten into a good routine over the past few weeks; His mornings are spent working out, playing with Hattie, and visiting his old stomping grounds before returning home to work east coast hours.

Niall is starting to get suspicious. As far as he knew, Harry’s time with Oliver went well. Harry is oddly cold in their meetings, and can barely meet Niall’s eye in their weekly one on one meetings. He hasn’t mentioned Briar’s name once.

Harry is surprisingly in good spirits. His mum, his sister, his niece and his old mates have been taking his mind off things. This time around, heartbreak is effecting him in a completely different way.

Maybe because he knows it’s not over. He just has to play his hand right. He’s trying to avoid groveling, or smothering her.

So, like a lion laying low in the grass, he’ll wait her out.

Talking to Spencer is easy. Effortless. Not that talking to Harry wasn’t, but it’s different. He understands her meme references, they make connections about the games they played as kids and the tv shows they watched.

He’s extremely kind, and doesn’t give her any sort of ick right off the bat. Their study session started out as a tutoring session, which soon turned to Briar finessing his answers from him. Not that she couldn’t do it on her own; she’s just seeking attention.

She’s well aware of what she’s doing. It’s been just over a month since she and Harry broke up. Well, since she ended it. It’s infuriating that he hasn’t tried to contact her. Was he even in love with her in the first place?

Spencer and Briar meet up regularly, and he’s even started to get day passes to Wynnewood so he can see her. Briar is back to work like normal, not answering any prying questions from Cam or any of the friends she’s come to make there. They look at her with raised eyebrows, but don’t dare to say anything.

Spencer and Briar have kissed, which sent her into a tizzy when she got home the night it happened. Spencer messaged her the next night to ask her out to dinner at a nice Italian place he loves. He called an Uber for her, so the destination was unknown, until she pulls up to a familiar place. La Campagna. Harry’s favorite restaurant.

Panic seeps through every pore in her body. Not wanting to alarm the driver, she takes a deep breath before forcing her body to move.

Her hands are shaking, but she pulls open the door to reveal the quaint interior. There are only a few seatings each night, so the whole place is intimate. She spots Spencer in the back corner, so she softly smiles at the hostess before walking over.

He stands to pull out her chair, and compliments her dress. Upon sitting, Briar downs the glass of water at her seat. Spencer is startled, but doesn’t comment on it. They start to chit chat, debrief from their day and discuss their assignments for the week. It’s nice conversation, but it doesn’t light each of her nerve endings on fire like it does with Harry.

After a while and a lot more wine than she planned on drinking, she excused herself to the bathroom. Scurrying past the tables, she finds the small single bathroom in the back hallway. She’s about to push open the door when she spots a picture hanging on the wall.

A picture of Harry. And the chef, Massimo, who Harry befriended years ago. This photo is clearly not recent; his face a little softer, and his hips holding onto the puppy fat. He looks to be about 25.

His suit is striking; bright pink with only a white tank top underneath. The two are smiling brightly, Massimo leaning over his shoulder. Despite how many times she’s been here, she’s never once noticed this picture.

Her panic comes back as she forces her way through the door. She can hardly flip the lock and turn on the light before a sob escapes her. She bends her knees, folding her body in on itself. Covering her face with her hands, she tries not to smudge her eye make up.

Briar is not a discreet crier by any means. Her eyes get puffy, she bites her lip until it bleeds, and a rash forms on her chest when she’s in any kind of distress. It’ll be clear as day when she returns to the table.

Hesitantly, she rises to stand in front of the sink. She takes a stack of paper towels, dampening them so she can cool her body temperature. A sigh of relief washes over her when the cold water touches her skin.

Why did it have to be this fucking restaurant?! Balling up her fists, she gives herself a pep talk in the mirror, and takes several deep breaths to regulate her breathing. Using the same towels, she cleans up her under eye area, bringing her make up back to decent shape.

Briar unlocks the door, and confidently strides out of the bathroom, completely ignoring the photo on the wall. Spencer smiles when she comes into view.

“Hope you don’t mind, I ordered us another appetizer,” he smiles.

“Perfect,” Briar flips her hair over her shoulder, smiling at him softly. “Want to come back to mine after we finish here?”

________________________________________________________

@daphnesutton @pandeebearstyles @anxiouswaterss @gem1712 @stylesfever @awesomenavy @crazygirlinthisworld @butdaddyilovehim-hs @luxiorchive @alchemxx @narry-heart

DON'T KILL ME PLZZZZZ HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL WRITING TWO IDIOTS IN LOVE .

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles imagine #Harry styles smut #dom!harry #daddy!harry #agegapfic #Harry Styles golf #golfrry #one direction imagine #daddy!h #fth h #fairway to heaven #harry styles x oc

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writeriguess · 23 days

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Five hargreaves x reader where he and fem reader go on a date

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the city. You glanced at the clock on your bedside table, the anticipation making your heart race. Tonight was special—Five Hargreeves had actually agreed to a date. Not just any date, but one you had meticulously planned to make the most of your evening together. Five, with his usual aloof demeanor and tendency for time-traveling adventures, had surprised you by agreeing to a simple, yet charming, evening out.

You had chosen a quaint little bistro known for its cozy atmosphere and excellent cuisine. It was the perfect place for a casual date where the focus could be on each other, rather than grand gestures or extravagant settings. You had taken care to dress in something elegant yet comfortable, and now, as you looked in the mirror, you hoped Five would appreciate the effort.

The sound of the doorbell echoed through your apartment, causing a flutter of nerves to settle in your stomach. You took a deep breath and went to answer it, your heart skipping a beat as you opened the door to find Five standing there, impeccably dressed in a sharp suit.

Five’s usual smirk was replaced with a look of genuine appreciation as he took in your appearance. “You look… well, not entirely terrible,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of a compliment buried beneath his trademark sarcasm.

You laughed, stepping aside to let him in. “I’ll take that as a win. Shall we?”

Five nodded, his gaze softening as he followed you to the door. “Lead the way.”

The drive to the bistro was filled with comfortable conversation, as you navigated the city streets under the soft glow of streetlights. Five, usually so preoccupied with his own thoughts, seemed to relax in your presence, occasionally glancing at you with a curious mix of admiration and intrigue.

When you arrived at the bistro, the atmosphere was everything you had hoped for: dim lighting, soft jazz playing in the background, and a warm, welcoming ambiance. The maitre d’ greeted you with a smile and led you to a cozy corner table, away from the main crowd.

As you both settled into your seats, Five took a moment to look around, his expression reflecting a rare sense of contentment. “This place is actually nice,” he admitted, surprising you with his candidness.

“I’m glad you think so,” you said, smiling. “I thought it would be a good spot for a relaxing evening.”

The evening progressed smoothly, with laughter and light-hearted conversation flowing easily between you. Five, despite his usual reserved nature, opened up about his experiences and adventures, sharing stories that were both fascinating and endearing. You found yourself drawn to his intelligence and vulnerability, qualities that were often overshadowed by his more abrasive traits.

Dinner arrived, and you both enjoyed the meal, exchanging playful banter and savoring each bite. Five’s usual sarcasm was softened by genuine curiosity and interest in your thoughts, making the evening feel effortless and enjoyable.

As the meal came to an end, Five’s eyes met yours, a rare softness in his gaze. “I have to admit, I wasn’t sure what to expect from this evening. But I’ve actually enjoyed myself.”

You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve enjoyed it too.”

The night was still young, and after dinner, you suggested a walk through a nearby park. Five agreed, and the two of you strolled side by side, the night air crisp and refreshing. The park was peaceful, illuminated by the soft glow of streetlamps and the occasional flicker of fireflies.

As you walked, you talked about everything and nothing—hopes, dreams, and even mundane details of your daily lives. The connection between you deepened with each step, and you could sense Five’s guard gradually lowering, revealing more of the person behind the enigmatic exterior.

Eventually, you reached a small, secluded bench under a large oak tree. You both sat down, and the silence that followed was filled with a comfortable intimacy. Five turned to you, his eyes reflecting the soft light of the moon.

“I’ve always been a bit of a loner,” he began, his voice more serious than before. “But tonight, being with you… it feels different. Better.”

You looked at him, your heart swelling with warmth. “I’m glad, Five. I think you’re incredible just as you are.”

Without another word, Five leaned in, closing the distance between you. His lips met yours in a tender, heartfelt kiss, a contrast to the intensity and chaos that often defined his life. The kiss was gentle yet filled with unspoken emotions, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings that had grown between you.

When he finally pulled away, his expression was one of quiet satisfaction. “Thank you for tonight,” he said softly. “It’s been... nice.”

You smiled, resting your forehead against his. “You’re welcome. I’ve enjoyed every moment.”

The night ended with a sense of peaceful contentment. As you both made your way back to the car, the connection between you felt stronger, more profound. Five’s usual aloofness had been tempered by a genuine affection that had emerged through the course of the evening.

As you said your goodbyes at your apartment, Five took your hand once more, his gaze lingering on yours. “I’ll see you soon,” he promised, a rare sincerity in his voice.

You nodded, a smile playing on your lips. “I look forward to it.”

With that, Five turned and walked away, leaving you with a heart full of hope and a newfound sense of connection. The evening had been more than just a date; it had been a glimpse into the deeper, more vulnerable side of Five Hargreeves, and a testament to the growing bond that was forming between you.

And as you closed the door and prepared for bed, you couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something truly special.

#five hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #number five #five #five hargreeves imagines #number five x reader #number five imagine #five x reader #five imagine #tua x reader #tua imagine #tua

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freesia-writes · 1 year

Text

REBLOG CHAIN! For funsies!

Please, if you feel so inclined, reblog this and add a little blurb of what you would do if you had this weekend to spend with your favorite clone. Considering where you live, what you like to do, etc... Let's all just take a little mental vacation with our favorite boys?? <3

I'll go first! :D And it got a little long, LOL.

Eep -- it got a lil NSFW at the end, so minors be gone! <3

After all the duties of the week were finished on Friday night, Howzer and I had a wee bit of edibles, sinking into the couch into each other's arms and giggling about random things. We popped a batch of break-n-bake cookies into the oven, cooking them to the PERFECT softness in the center, and ate far too many because they were so warm, gooey, and incredible. We dragged ourselves up to bed, curling up with each other in bubbly-brained bliss, feeling heavy and content.

Saturday didn't really begin until noon, when we finally hauled ourselves out of bed and made some espresso drinks. We watched a recording of The Price is Right, calling out our guesses and teasing each other competitively. We threw together a cozy breakfast (around 1pm, haha) of sourdough French toast, eggs, and sausage links, and ate it on the garden patio. It was a warm, breezy day, and I was tempted to suggest going back to bed, but we opted to head to the bay instead.

We walked through downtown, aimlessly perusing the charming little shops that included everything from antiques to plants, books to confections. We pretended to critique the art in a gallery, putting on airs and snickering at our complete lack of refinement. Our stroll took us down to the pier, where we spent a leisurely hour watching the fishermen huddled over their rods and buckets, the salty scents of the sea ruffling our hair as it blew past. His hand in mine was warm and strong, and we paused at the end of the pier to lean over the rough wooden railing, gazing at the bridge in the distance and marveling at the unusually cloudy sky. It was filled with layers of every shade of grey and white, blending together seamlessly in a cozy canvas of calm. He leaned behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist as we took in the sights, whispering some inside joke in my ear that made me guffaw like an idiot, which made him grin even more.

The sun was sinking below the horizon, barely visible behind the thick layer of clouds, but the fading light of the sky and our growling stomachs clued us in to the late hour. We headed to an adorable blue and white building that was an old house turned into a restaurant, with all sorts of nooks and crannies stuffed with tables with expansive views of the bay. We opted for the balcony, pushing our chairs together on the same side of the table to snuggle into each other's sides, his arm around my shoulders. We decided to splurge, sharing our steak and salmon dinners with each other, enjoying a sparkling drink that complimented the food, and ordering two desserts because we couldn't decide on just one. When I gave him a bite of my flourless chocolate cake, he took the fork into his mouth with a slow suggestiveness, sliding his lips down the metal as he fixed his brown eyes on mine. My heart did a flip, and though I laughed on the outside, he knew he was kindling the flame within.

We rolled out of the restaurant, equipped with bags of leftovers and stuffed beyond belief. The train station across the street broadcasted the impending arrival of the last train of the night, headed out to the coast. With a glimmer in his eyes, he took my hand and ran for the ticket kiosk, and the next thing we knew, we were sitting in window seats in a plushly-upholstered train car, rocking gently down the tracks toward the ocean. The world faded to black outside, the passing cities indicated only by the twinkling lights of people gathered in their homes, stoking fires and tucking in for the night.

The small beach town at the end of the line had a variety of charming bed and breakfasts, but the one that advertised the "in-room fireplace" caught our eyes immediately. The entire wall that faced the sea was a sliding glass door that included a screen, and the combination of the sound of the waves crashing on the shore, the fresh breeze cooling the room, and the flickering gas fireplace made the little room impossibly cozy. We took showers, pulled on the impossibly soft robes in the closet, and flopped across the large bed.

We talked about everything and nothing, lazily caressing each other, hands exploring further, robes slipping off of shoulders and thighs. It was a languorous exploration of my other half, appreciating everything that made him who he was. A slight graze of the wrist across a breast, the shift of a thigh against his hips, sent tingles through each of us and slowly increased the intensity until we were both naked, slithering against each other in a tangle of arms and legs illuminated by the warm glow of the fireplace. Breathless sighs and little quips punctuated the sounds of the seashore. He pressed into me, my legs wrapped around his, my hands caressing the curve of his back and grasping his strong forearm next to my head.

It was truly "making love" in every sense of the phrase, the comfort and pleasure weaving us together in blissful contentment. When we collapsed in delirious release, cleaning ourselves up and matching every curve of our frames against each other in warm, satisfying spooning, it was only a matter of seconds before sleep greeted us with a warm welcome. Just kidding, we got too hot in less than five minutes and peeled apart from each other, sprawling across opposite sides of the bed and drifting off in real comfort. ;)

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

ARTISTS, FEEL FREE TO DRAW ANY OF THIS AS ALWAYS!! ;)

NPT: @wolffegirlsunite @littlefeatherr @dystopicjumpsuit @arctrooper69 @foreverdaydreaming1 @stunkbiggu @mxkyrie @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @littlemissbshine @atomickidsoul @dreamie411 @skellymom @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @followthepurrgil @the-hexfiles @1vlouds @sunshinesdaydream @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @ughhhhfoff @coraex @moonlightwarriorqueen @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @gt13tbbart @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @523rdrebel @ghostperson69 @rain-on-kamino @secondaryrealm @hellhound5925 @thew0nderer2342 @blueink-bluesoul @cloneloverrrrr @kashasenpai @lightwise @drafthorsemath @nahoney22 @kaminocasey @neyswxrld @amorfista @zaana @mythical-illustrator @angrypaperearthquake-tbbb-main @arctrooper69 @ghostperson69 @littlemissmanga @starqueensthings @nika6q @vimse @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @mandos-mind-trick @clonethirstingisreal

#the bad batch #tbb #star wars fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #howzer fanfic #howzer one shot #howzer fluff #clone fluff #star wars fluff #fluff #clone love

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ceapa-mica · 1 year

Text

GEHAT'IK BE ALIIT | Chapter 24

{cross-posted on ao3} {masterlist}

<- previous chapter

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Grogu being a public menace

Words: 5758

Summary: Visiting Din's homeworld to celebrate Life Day becomes an emotional roller coaster for Din and Elora.

a/n: Welcome back! You're probably wondering what returning to the place of his trauma will be like for Din. There will be so many emotions! Also this is the official Christmas chapter for my fic (published in September lol) If you're reading this during the holidays I wish you Merry Christmas or whatever else you celebrate.

"This is Vetina City spaceport tower one, state your business, Razor Crest."

Din got goosebumps at the transmission, but didn't let his nervousness get a hold of him.

"We are here for the Life Day celebrations."

"You have permission to land in bay 5-C. Thank you."

Din and Elora exchanged glances. Even Grogu had picked up on his father figure's feelings, causing him to squirm in Elora's hold.

"Relax, little one. We have not yet landed." she cooed in a soothing voice.

When Vetina City came into sight, Din was speechless. The ruins of the town he used to live in wasreplaced by a bustling city with a large spaceport. Even from afar you could see the many people bustling in the streets.

"It's so… different from what I remember."

Bay 5-C wasn't hard to find, and as the Crest hit the ground, Din didn't move. Elora put a reassuring hand on his arm under his pauldron where she knew he could feel her touch.

"We can still leave. It's all up to you." she reminded him.

Din considered it for a moment, then he stood and tried to look confident. Elora and Grogu both sensed that quite the opposite was the case.

"Now that we're here, I think we should at least take a look around. This place has changed a lot, so we can get our bearings."

Down in the hull, Elora took her gray Jawa cloak and her satchel bag. Arfour was beeping, excited to join them again. Meanwhile Din had left for the 'fresher. He had removed his helmet and stared at his reflection for several minutes.

Elora patiently waited for him, but Grogu on the other hand didn't want to wait any longer. He wanted to run around and explore. He squirmed impatiently in Elora's arm and was on the verge of throwing a tantrum when Din came out of the fresher.

"Are we good to go?" Elora asked. As a simple response he took her hand and opened the hatch. Followed by Arfour they set foot on Din's homeworld. It resembled Nevarro in some way. At least the soil, as it was a similar shade of gray. The scent of fried food lingered in the air, and as they left the spaceport for the bustling streets, there were colorful decorative lights on the flat roofed houses, the market stalls, trees and lanterns.

"I heard people put those everywhere for Life Day." Din said, noticing Elora's astonished gaze. He chuckled at the childlike wonder in her eyes, his hand still in hers. Grogu let out a joyful squeal as well, making attempts to climb over on Arfour's flat top, and Elora let him.

"Stay close, Arfour."

The droid whistled in agreement and followed them closely as they strolled through the streets. There were so many vendors, some were selling fabrics, little trinkets, Life tree orbs, and of course, all kinds of foods. Roasted meat, even stews and many different pastries. Elora knew to keep an eye on the always hungry child who looked displeased at the attention he got from Elora and Din with all the food around. The moment Grogu tried to take a particularly delicious looking pastry from a stall via the force, Din had quickly intervened and took the child into his arms, holding him close to his chest.

"Having one thief on the team is enough, don't you think, you little womp rat?" Grogu frowned, making his forehead look even wrinklier than it already did. "Don't be upset, I will buy you something sweet later. Let's take a look around first, then we decide what we wanna eat." That's when Din noticed that Elora had let go of his hand. She was nowhere to be seen. Fortunately, the HUD inside his helmet wasn't just useful for bounty hunting, but for tracking down wayward loved ones who have a talent for getting into trouble. It took him barely a minute to find Elora, who was standing at a stall. She had laid eyes on an object she examined with a thoughtful look in her eyes.

"It's made out of beskar alloy, very high quality." the Togruta vendor said.

"Did you find something?" Din asked, looking at the colorful metal figure Elora held in her hands. It showed a Jedi and a Mandalorian - the Jedi pointing their lightsaber at the armored warrior who responded using their flamethrower.

"It's a rarity, the price is 3.500 credits. You won't find anything of finer quality on the entire market, that I assure you."

"He says it's made from beskar alloy." Elora added, causing Din to huff in disbelief.

"I'm Mandalorian, and I can tell the difference between common durasteel alloy and beskar alloy. And this…" He took the statue and hit it against his vambrace, the collision of the metals creating a dull sound. "...this is definitely not beskar alloy." He then hit his chest plate with his vambrace, the collision causing a loud bright sound resembling a bell. "This is what beskar on beskar sounds like. Think about it next time you try to scam tourists out of their money." The vendor was at a loss for words, looking around to estimate how many people had witnessed this moment of pure shame.

Meanwhile Din, Elora and Grogu went on their way. Elora was blushing and looked uncomfortable, something Din noticed immediately. "You alright?" Elora put on a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I can tell when you're pretending. So what is it?"

"Argh! I'm just frustrated. I feel humiliated is all. Not by you, by that son of a bantha vendor. I should be able to recognize beskar, or anything of value really. When someone scams a Jawa out of credits, parts or whatever, it can ruin your reputation within the tribe. In my culture we get taught how to trade from a very young age. We learn what's valuable and what isn't, I should have known this was durasteel alloy. It was just so polished and shiny, looking like my beskar alloy lightsaber hilt. I would have fallen for it if you hadn't intervened."

"It looked real, Elora. You can only figure it out with a well trained eye and hitting the material against actual beskar. Next time someone claims to sell a beskar object, you know what to do." Din hated the sad look in Elora's eyes and tried to distract her, leading her to a town square where a choir with a little orchestra in blue uniforms was singing Life Day songs.

Grogu looked interested in the direction of the two chindinkalu flute players. Din put him back on Arfour's top, the droid rolling closer to the orchestra. Grogu clapped his little hands, cheering the musicians on. At the same time Din took Elora's hand. "I'm really not good at this but…can I have this dance, my lady?"

Elora tried to hold back her laughter. "I don't think you've spoken to me in that formal tone before, sir." Din blushed under his helmet. "In case you don't remember, on Naboo I had to dance with this annoying noble, his feet probably still haven't recovered from it."

Din chuckled at the memory. "He got what he deserved. Step on my feet as often as you like, it won't make me love you any less, mesh'la."

"You're being quite a flirt today, Din Djarin." They began to sway to the music together, not caring how the couples around them danced. They found their own rhythm and only had eyes for each other, and occasionally for Grogu, who was still gleefully watching the orchestra.

"You know what I don't understand? Why do paintings and statues always portray Mandalorians and Jedi fighting each other? Clearly the times have changed. Look at us -" She accidentally stepped on his left foot. "Sorry…"

"They are portrayed fighting because the Jedi stepped on the Mandalorian's toes while dancing." Din chuckled, then his voice turned serious with a gentle undertone. "Our cultures have fought each other for thousands of years. Do you remember what Paz said? That Mandalorians and Jedi could never -" He accidentally stepped on Elora's toes. "Sorry I- um… Well, our cultures are polar opposites. If we should choose to spend our life together at some point, there would certainly be people, even friends, who wouldn't agree with our connection."

"So far my family is just looking forward to a wedding. Dank farrik, I assume you've never been to a Jawa wedding, no?"

"I can't say that I have."

"Jawa weddings are huge. Especially since I'm the daughter of the chief. When two Jawas get married, the two tribes come together for the ceremony. Weddings are a way to strengthen connections with other tribes. One Jawa wedding I attended took three days, believe it or not."

"Our cultures are very different indeed… A Mandalorian wedding ceremony is just the couple, alone, speaking the wedding vows to each other. There's no feast, nothing special, only that we remove our helmets for our spouse for the first time. Spouses and offspring are the only living beings allowed to see each other's faces in private. This is the Way." Din explained.

"I know we only let my family believe we're engaged right now, but could you imagine getting actually engaged to me in the future?"

The look in Elora's eyes was so hopeful, it made Din's heart swell.

"There's no such thing as engagement in my culture, just the marriage vows. And… despite all odds… I can imagine making you my riduur one day."

"Riduur means wife?"

"It means spouse or romantic partner, yes. Do you know that Life Day marks one year since we first met? I remember the bounty before Grogu, he mentioned Life Day. Then I went to Arvala 7 and found you and the kid."

Elora couldn't believe it was one year already since she had left her tribe for the first time to find blood relatives. It felt like it had just been yesterday. So much had changed in just one year. She had to admit it had been the best year of her life so far. She finally found love, she knew her birth mother was still alive and had better control over her force powers than ever before. Everything had changed. She went from hating Mandalorians to being unable to imagine a life without Din by her side. They were on Aq Vetina together - a place that meant so much to Din - celebrating the little family the four of them, Arfour included, had become.

"You truly changed my life, Din. We've been through so much and-" A sudden scream tore through the music, causing it abruptly to stop. It was one of the chindinkalu flute players.

"Grogu!" Din yelled, rapidly approaching the musician. Grogu had force jumped onto her shoulder out of curiosity, scaring the shit out of her.

"A green rat! Somebody take that thing back where it came from or so help me-" she yelled. Grogu showed no fear, trying to reach the mouthpiece of the instrument before Din grabbed him.

"I'm sorry, Miss! He's still a kid, I-"

"You're sorry?! That thing tried to bite me!"

"He did not! He wanted to play your instrument." Elora explained, focusing on the fear the woman felt, and sending calming vibes through the force at her. She instantly calmed down.

The incident had caused a small crowd of people to gather around them. Too much attention was never a good thing, especially when you wore beskar armor, were force sensitive and on top of that on the Empire's most wanted list. Din and Elora knew that and left the scene, walking over the market in quick steps until the town square was out of sight. Din took a weary look around, but nobody paid more attention to him than usual. He was used to the looks he got for his armor. After he deemed the situation safe, they went to a food stall that offered ronto wraps and salad bowls. Elora looked for a table to sit. Din returned with two plates of ronto wraps. Instead of ronto sausage the wraps contained ronto gyro, and it tasted as good as it smelled. Elora admired the way Din's armor reflected the rays of the evening sun while she ate and she thought about how annoying it had to be to never be able to eat with others. Din leaned back in his chair, looking content, Grogu took a particular liking to the meat, and Arfour was watching the passersby.

"I- I have something for you, cyar'ika. I know Life Day is tomorrow, but I wanna give this to you now." Din said with a softness in his voice, as the last bite of her dinner disappeared in Elora's mouth. He opened his satchel bag and took out a small red box. She opened it with bright eyes, and gaped at the pretty golden bracelet with multiple charms on it. One being a tiny purple crystal, looking like a small version of the one in her lightsaber. Another charm looked like the middle of Din's chest plate. He noticed how her eyes went to that part of his armor.

"It’s called the kar'ta beskar, which means beskar heart. And you, cyare, have my heart."

"Where did you get all those particular charms?!" Elora looked around to find the market stall that was selling those.

"The bracelet itself I bought on Naboo back in the day. Whenever we went to markets, I've been looking for charms to add. The beskar heart I bought in Kyrimorut. Today I found the last one."

The bracelet had five charms. The remaining three were a rusty little bolt, a bead of jade in the same shade of green as Grogu and a very shiny mythosaur skull.

"The bolt is supposed to signify your tribe, the jade signifies the bond you have with Grogu, and the shiny mythosaur skull the Armorer made for you as thanks for helping to successfully relocate the covert."

Elora stared at Din, completely at a loss for words. As much as she hated crying in front of others, tears welled in her eyes. Grogu cooed sadly, obviously not understanding why she was suddenly crying. Din was such a thoughtful person, he made her feel seen, made her feel loved, both physically and emotionally. Her heart truly felt like it could burst out of happiness, and the featherlight feeling in her tummy had increased tenfold.

"I feel bad because I have no gift for you."

"There's no bigger gift than having you for a girlfriend."

"Didn't you say earlier that you can imagine making me your wife one day?" Elora asked with her usual cheeky smile while putting on the bracelet. Din reached out and wiped the remaining tears off her cheeks with his thumbs.

"I promise you I will. There's something I wanna show you. All of you."

The sun had set and they continued their stroll around the Life Day market. At the cobblestone plaza where the town hall was located stood a large tree decorated with colorful lights and orbs. It looked simply magical. Grogu squealed joyfully and jumped off Arfour's top, waddling towards the tree. He was so tiny compared to it. Elora and Din laughed at the child's curiosity. There were some kids at the plaza playing ball, distracting Grogu from the enormous tree. Before the boy could run off to Maker knows where, Din had picked him up.

"How did you know the tree was there?" Elora asked.

"The food vendor saw Grogu and mentioned the Life Day tree and something else. It will be a surprise."

"Another surprise?!"

Din nodded. "Trust me, I know the perfect place for this one." He put his arms tightly around her waist.

"What the-" Before Elora could speak any further, Din had activated his jetpack, zooming off to a nearby flat rooftop of a building that was higher than the tree on the plaza. Arfour used his thrusters to follow them.

The view of the city was incredible. The decorations, the lights, the many different scents coming from the market, it was more than Din could have imagined, but to his disappointment, it didn't feel like a home anymore. This bustling city had once been a small town with simple people and without a spaceport. He could tell most people down on those streets weren't born on Aq Vetina. He wasn't sure if all those changes made it easier for him to find closure or not.

"Okay why did you take us up here? Don't get me wrong, the view is fantastic, but I have a feeling Grogu is craving a dessert and-" Din raised his hand and she paused.

"Just wait for it."

Elora didn't understand the sudden secrecy. What were they waiting for?

Suddenly there was a whistling sound and in the next second the sky above lit up in the most beautiful colors. Grogu winced at the sounds of the firework, but looked up in wonder, same as Elora. Neither of them had ever seen fireworks before. Even Arfour bleeped at the spectacle in wonder. As the colors lit up the night sky, Din's gaze rested on Elora and Grogu. If there was anything he enjoyed watching more than the fireworks, it was their reaction. He knew it was a moment both of them would never forget. Elora felt his eyes on her and turned around, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his helmet where his mouth would be.

"I love you, Din. Everything you do for me - for us… How are you feeling by the way?"

"I'm fine. Life Day is about family, and there's no better way to honor my parents than being happy. That's probably what they would want me to be. Making Life Day unforgettable for you and Grogu makes me happy. And I love you too, cyar'ika."

They were holding each other and looked up at the fireworks, with an occasional glance to Grogu who was mesmerized by the beauty. It was when he started to cough due to the smoke in the air that Din and Elora let go of each other.

"We should find a place to sleep. As much as I love the Crest, a holiday is special. We should celebrate it somewhere festive." Din suggested and took them back down to the streets, where he started looking for lodging.

He was distracted for a moment, asking a vendor where they could find a place to sleep. Elora took that as a chance to walk off as she noticed a stall selling melee weapons.

"There's a bed and breakfast at the-" Din paused and his eyes landed on Arfour. Elora and Grogu had disappeared. He was about to use his HUD again to find them, when there was a commotion a few stalls to his right.

"Thief! Somebody stop this woman!"

He recognized Elora's red hair immediately from afar and groaned in frustration. "I knew this was gonna happen at some point. Come on, droid."

Din and Arfour followed Elora's distinctive red hair through the crowds. He was surprised how fast of a runner she could be, and he had a feeling it had something to do with her force sensitivity. If there had been someone trying to catch her, she had already outrun them.

At a young age Elora had learned how to escape pursuers. She knew she had to hide from their sight, which meant she had to get off this market. So she took a turn into the next alley. It was dirty and smelled of a mix of mud and urine. Out of breath she checked on Grogu, who was giggling, amused by the situation. He held a little muffin in his hand he was nibbling on.

"I hope you learned an important lesson today, kid. When you steal, try not to get caught."

His ears flopped at her words and the sad look in his eyes made her heart melt, she couldn't be mad at him.

"There you are…" Din had caught up to them, a little out of breath. "I told you stealing could get you into trouble." he scolded Elora, who couldn't hold back a cheeky smile.

"You did, but I think you forgot to tell him." She pointed at Grogu, stains of blue buttercream on his mouth and nose. Din huffed in disbelief and let out an exasperated sigh. "You're being a bad influence, cyar'ika."

"Aww I take that as a compliment." she responded in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

Before they could argue, Din looked around, having picked up on a sound coming from another nearby alley. It was a metallic sound that Elora and Din were both familiar with. At the mouth of the alley, Din pulled his blaster from its holster faster than the blink of an eye, shooting at a silver battle droid who was carrying cargo.

"What the fuck, Din?!"

It took several shots to destroy the droid. The cargo, a large grey chest, fell to the floor, a golden power-like substance coming out of it. Elora had seen it before, and she knew a spice deal gone wrong meant trouble. "I know you hate droids, but thoughtlessly shooting one is risky, given the cargo it's supposed to load on the sled.

"I don't care. That's the kind of droid that killed my parents. It's dangerous." The hatred in his voice was audible.

"It was likely reprogrammed. They can be useful for carrying heavy objects." she tried to explain.

Din clenched his hands into tight fists and took deep breaths, trying to calm his rapid heartbeat. "What would you do to the man who you thought had killed your mother, Elora?"

It took her a moment to think of the right words, but she decided to be blunt about it. "I would let him suffer before I kill him." she said in a dark tone. She understood his actions, but also saw the risk. Din's trauma seemed to impact his judgment.

That's when a blaster bolt came out of nowhere, almost hitting Elora in the shoulder. She dodged it with her lightsaber in a second's notice. There were men yelling inside the building. Another blaster bolt hit Din in his chest plate, causing him to stumble a few steps back.

"See what you've done?!" They started running again, Elora dodging the blaster bolts that followed them with her lightsaber and Din firing shots at the group of six men, shielding Grogu from harm with his body. His aim was much better than theirs. In a matter of minutes there were only four of them left, then three, one… Even when no more shots were fired after the last spice smuggler fell, Din and Elora remained on high alert, Arfour bleeping uncomfortably and Grogu on top of him dropped his long ears in fear.

"It's okay, sweetie, we're out of danger now." Elora cooed, picking him up. In her arms he instantly buried his little face in the crook of her neck and she went to face Din. "Listen, I understand what overcame you when you saw that droid. The same feeling overcame me when I met you for the first time, Din. I learned in the best way that things are not always as they seem. This droid was programmed to load cargo, not kill innocents, and I know a thing or two about droids. You're not the type of guy who thinks with their blaster, it was reckless and so unlike you."

"I- I'm so sorry, I put you all in danger. It was never my intention, it's just…" She noticed how he shivered. "I saw that droid and I just…. I was nine years old when one of those things almost killed me. When I saw the droid back there, it was like I was a child again.." Din's voice trembled. Elora felt a deep sadness radiating off him. Before she could pull him into a hug he walked past her, his gaze on a clothesline where a red cloak was hanging to dry.

"Darling?" Elora asked as Din stared at the cloak, his posture being rigid.

"That's traditional Vetinese clothing. My family… that's what we used to wear." His voice was quiet and sad. "I don't remember much, but I know I was happy. It's the little things that I still recall the most aside from our last moments together. The scent of my mother's perfume, my father's laugh… Damn it was such a long time ago."

Din took the red fabric in his hand, a familiar feeling of safety settled in his gut at the touch.

"Nothing gets lost in this universe. In the force they'll always be with you until the day you join them." Din turned, and Elora took the opportunity to pull him into a warm hug. He rested his head on her shoulder, enjoying the feeling of her running her hands over his arms.

"Whatever you feel, Din, it's okay."

Their hug was suddenly interrupted when the back door of the building opened. A little old lady in a lilac dressing gown stepped out, two tookas purring around her legs.

"What's all the noise out here?!" she asked, her wrinkly face contorted in anger.

"Sorry, m'am. We were about to leave." Elora apologized.

The expression on the woman's face changed from anger to curiosity as she took in Din's shiny appearance. "Why did you return here?" the lady asked Din, who was taken aback by her question. "Your people freed what was left of our village. Are you back because this town is in danger?" she clarified.

"No, not at all. I was actually born here. The Mandalorians took me in after the battle droids attacked the town.”

The old lady frowned thoughtfully, appraising him. "What's your name?"

For a moment Din hesitated telling this woman - a stranger - his name, but decided to take the risk and do it. "The name's Din. Din Djarin."

Her eyes lit up at his name. "You're Zaro and Ni'qa Djarin's boy, aren't you? Oh, I thought you had died along with them." Tears welled in her eyes as she introduced herself as Varia Geth, explaining that she had been a neighbor of Din's family back in the day. Din was still in disbelief hearing his parents' names and that there was someone who remembered him from before his life as a Mandalorian foundling. He couldn't place the warm feeling that blossomed in his heart, but he knew Elora and Grogu felt it too.

Varia invited them into her house. Grogu was immediately fascinated by her tookas and squealed happily as Din put him down to let him play with them.

"If you and your wife are looking for a place to stay, you can sleep in my son's room. I have no use for it since he moved out." Varia offered, and Din and Elora eagerly accepted, without bothering to correct her when it came to the title of their relationship, since old people could be a bit conservative at times, and they wanted to sleep in the same room.

It turned out, Varia had a real talent for baking, much to Grogu's delight. They sat down in her cozy living room that had many pillows and self made blankets. With a hot chocolate for each, Varia started telling them stories from before the Separatist invasion that destroyed the village. How all people wore red cloaks when leaving the house, about the peace and quiet she missed so much in this bustling city. Din listened intently, sipping his hot chocolate through a straw that went under his helmet. From the stories Varia told them, his parents had been kind and generous people, living a simple life with the wellbeing of their only child as their top priority.

Bedtime was truly something else when you were used to sleeping in the small nook on the Razor Crest. The spare bedroom in Varia's house had a bed that was big enough for two, with lots of soft pillows and self made quilts. Grogu cooed as he climbed on top of it, getting comfortable.

Din removed his armor sans his helmet, feeling safe enough in this house to do so. Elora took off her boots and put her lightsaber on the bedside table before lying down next to Grogu who was trying real hard to keep his eyes open. Din laid down on the other side of him, so Grogu was lying in between his guardians. He yawned and they watched him drift off to sleep with a smile on his face.

Arfour had switched off, charging in the corner of the bedroom, and peace and quiet settled in the house. Din and Elora looked at each other, and despite the helmet, she knew the look in his eyes was full of affection.

"I certainly didn't expect the day to go like this." he whispered barely loud enough for the vocoder to pick up.

"How do you feel?"

It took Din a good minute to come up with the right words. "Like I made the right choice by coming here. I have to thank you for suggesting it." He caressed her cheek with his gloved hand. "My sweet girl, you helped me reconnect with my family in a way, I hope I can find a way to return the favor."

"Mmm.. the thought of my mom spending Life Day without me now that I know she's alive... It feels a bit off." Elora yawned, closing her eyes. Din didn't miss the light frown she always had when she was worried.

"I'll do everything so you can celebrate together next year, mesh'la. Rest now, the kid will be up early."

He didn't have to tell her twice. He watched her fall asleep wrapped in the colorful quilt blankets, taking her hand in his. Just like any Mandalorian, he swore to put his little family before everything else, like his parents before him.

"Patu! PATU!"

Elora groaned when Grogu jumped on her chest before the sun was up.

"No…it's too early. Go back to sleep." she cursed in Jawa Trade under her breath. That's when she felt that the other side of the bed was cold and empty, her eyes blinking open. Grogu crawled up to her face and squished her cheeks with his pudgy hands.

"Grogu!" Din's voice came from the hallway. He came to take the child off her chest. "I told you to let her sleep longer. I'm sorry, cyare. He woke me up first, all excited about his Life Day gifts."

While Elora sat up and rubbed her eyes, Din took Grogu back into the living room where he started playing with the Life Day gift Din had gotten him - a Thranta plushie that was actually more of a soft blanket than a stuffed toy, and miniature Jawa toy figures. Varia was preparing breakfast in the kitchen, waffles by the smell of it. Din wished his life could always be this harmonic, but he knew the reality was a different one, Moff Gideon was still out there and many others wouldn't hesitate to kill him for his beskar or to get to Elora and the kid.

After breakfast (Din having breakfast in the living room instead of the kitchen due to his Creed), Elora approached him with a present wrapped in red paper. "I found this on the market yesterday. I think it's a useful gift."

Din raised his brows, surprised that she, too, had bought him a gift. He didn't expect that.

"I didn't steal it by the way." she added as she noticed his hesitation.

"I didn't assume you stole it, I'm just…" He unwrapped the item, which was a box containing a collection of high quality vibroblades. He took one, twirling it between his fingers. Din huffed in disbelief. "They must have cost a fortune."

"I saved some credits from our previous jobs. Do you like them?"

Din stood up, looking down at her. "No. I love them! Such a thoughtful gift, thank you so much!" He wrapped his arms around her. "Gifting weapons is a sign of trust in my culture. It means a lot to me."

Varia searched several shelves in her living room until she found what she had been looking for. It was a small holochip she gave to Din.

"What is this for?"

"Put it in the projector and you'll see." she said with a kind smile.

They all took a seat in front of the holoprojector in the living room. Grogu was still distracted, playing with his new toys.

As Din inserted the holochip, a holopic popped up, showing several people in a backyard. Adults and children alike wore red cloaks and the neighborhood looked rather rural. Din held his breath as he saw his parents' faces for the first time in so many years. They were talking to friends and neighbors, and there was him, chasing after a tooka with a wide smile on his face. He looked no older than four years in this holopic.

"Is that-"

"Yes. That was before I took the Creed, which means you can look at it."

"Oh Din, you were so sweet! You still are, of course."

Din huffed at Elora’s remark. "I know hundreds of ways to kill someone. There's nothing sweet about that, cyare." He couldn't take his eyes off his parents' faces. Elora sensed his inner turmoil and took his hand.

"You can keep the holochip. That's my gift for you, young man." Varia said, tearing up at Din's reaction.

"Thank you. I- I don't know what to say. You really wanna give this to me?"

"It's your family, you should carry a picture of them with you. I have enough holochips anyway." she shrugged.

Elora and Din agreed that this was the best Life Day ever, despite being their first. There was hardly anything that could top that. If Grogu could speak, he would probably agree, judging by the joyful gleam in his dark eyes while playing with his new toys.

They spent Life Day eating cookies, laughing together, listening to Varia's stories and telling her of their adventures in return. Taking some time to unwind and not worry about what tomorrow would bring was exactly what they needed. They made memories that day they would cherish forever. It truly felt like, for a moment, the Galaxy was completely at peace.

<- previous chapter

They needed some downtime ok! Now let's get back to new adventures around the Galaxy with the next story arc coming soon! Spoiler: Our favorite Weequay space pirate will show up in the next chapter!

#gehat'ik be aliit #din djarin #din djarin x oc #the mandalorian x oc #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction

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benjaminthewolf · 1 year

Text

Annie Lol

I’m not dead, I’ve just been adjusting to college. I can’t garuntee uploads will be weekly again. Maybe I’ll switch to bi-weekly. But I’m not leaving this blog any time soon.

****

Your lower lip and jaw both quivered in bodily anguish as a high-pitched, agonizing warble continuously squeezed out your clenching vocal chords; and into the feverish clutch of the heatwave. Daring not to open your eyes for anything, lest your retinas flare up in garish swirlings of light and jumbled color, your senses instead seemed to hone in with meticulous precision onto each and every single individual bead of salty sweat, as they steadily flowed their way down your skin, and soaked up their moisture into your clothes. Gagging in and out the humid air which surrounded you, your lungs straining laboriously to absorb all the oxygen from the heavy, moistened, scalding, layering atmosphere, the overpowering urge to seek cold shelter bore deeper in compounding visceral need, each of your jittering nerves and tightening veins screeching vehemently up towards your brain. And yet, your brain knew that as long as all of your bodily resources remained focused on keeping you alive, the fact remained that absolutely zero was left over for you to heave your form off the street bench, and straggle away in search of AC. Thus, glued emphatically to that grooved, damp, wooden surface you remained, your consciousness now beginning to waver. Eventually, you stopped thinking.

****

Annie’s four fingers clenched vigorously onto the opposite side of the mysterious, yet iconic item which belonged to her alone, whilst her thumb navigated itself upwards along the side of her “Special Edition Non-Monsterizing T H E L I Q U I D” filled bottle.

The thumb soon appeared to halt instinctively, as it breached upon the ending corner of the bottle’s cylindrical side. The fingers crawled upwards just a little, in order for the thumb to comfortably move through the top, towards its prize.

Annie halted her breath for just a moment, as her thumb prepared itself all the same. A single second passed without motion. And then, her thumb flicked its way upwards in momentarily elevated, violent strength. The bottle cap, now popped up into the sky, was flung in mere seconds past Annie’s view, disappearing into the unexplored lying beyond.

Immediately shoving the now-open top of the bottle straight into her tilted-up mouth, Annie audibly chugged down gulp after gulp. Unrecognizable light blue liquid streamed its way down both her cheeks and onto the tan-ish sidewalk below, their chilling, crisp, undoubtedly refreshing effects sizzling up from the rays of the summer, as Annie forced more and more down her throat.

Eventually, the bottle was removed, and Annie brought her head back down into its standard position. Allowing a warbling: “Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh…” to escape from her lungs as T H E L I Q U I D now within her triumphed swiftly upon the external heat, Annie placed her bottle-holding-hand at her side, continuing only to stroll her way down the city sidewalk.

Casually glancing upon her surroundings, Annie soon took notice of a public bench, with somebody lounging upon it. Annie’s eyes darted away from the bench, before she glimpsed across to the other side, at the car-fested streets. And then, her critical thinking kicked in.

Rushing up onto the bench in a newfound bout of heightened panic, Annie swiftly examined your body, determining as such that you were utterly unresponsive, and drenched in so much sweat that you had most likely been overwhelmed by the heat. Now understanding the situation, Annie knew she had to calm down and start thinking, swiftly placing the fingers of her bottle-free hand underneath her chin as a result. And that’s when she remembered she had the bottle.

Casually bringing up the item with a slight grin forming on her face, Annie took a small step back from the bench as she gazed upon its form in deep affection. She then lowered T H E L I Q U I D filled bottle back down once more, though this time, at a slightly-upwards-sloping horizontal angle. Annie took a couple seconds in order to properly line up the shot. And then, at long last, she let it rip.

****

It was less of a regaining of consciousness, and more of a snapping straight into sheer bewilderment. Lurching forwards whilst your eyelids snapped open, you could only blabber out a nonsensical rambling of: “AWAOAHYOINAISNAKENOWENSEWASSITBENBUNEWATITOWEITNOSWEAISWHAIDONONI-”

“Uh…hey!”

Suddenly, your eyes were clear enough in order to recognize the shape and color of a person standing in front of you.

As your breathing continued to steady, and your body continued to reorient, you subconsciously noted your observations of who this person in front of you was.

She was an adult woman of middle height, with long black hair covering her eyes, a black v-neck t-shirt, and black shoes. The other major color she wore was red, with long black pants, and red fingerless gloves. Upon a bit of closer examination, you were able to figure out that what you previously thought was just more hair on her head was actually a black beanie with cat-like ears.

A little while after you were finished processing all this information, your brain had rebooted itself to a point where you could sense that whatever was currently drenching you wasn’t more sweat, and that in fact, it had significantly cooled you down. That was when the gray and blue bottle the woman was holding caught your attention. Fitting together the pieces within your head, you gave a slight nod of understanding.

At this point, then, you had figured out enough of what was going on to where you were comfortable addressing this woman. Repositioning yourself into a far more natural sitting position, you take in and out a deep breath in order to release the final remnants of panic, before finally, letting out your words.

“...well…thanks for…thanks for maybe even saving my life.” you calmly stated whilst attempting to steady your breathing.

“Oh, no problem!” Annie nonchalantly responded. “So…I’m assuming you’re feeling a lot cooler now?”

“Yeah. Yeah, most certainly.” you sighed out rather breathily. “...but man…it's so intense of a scorcher today, I can already feel the coolness evaporating off me! Oh, why does this area have to have so few buildings in it?”

“Hmmm…well…I know that the pool is quite near!”

“I…really don’t think I have the energy to make it to the pool…”

“Hmmmmmmmmmmmm…” Annie’s brow suddenly lowered in rising concentration. “Alright, well then in that case-”

Annie’s sentence was abruptly cut off as her face promptly morphed into a pog.

“I know!” she eventually called out, whilst holding up her bottle of T H E L I Q U I D. “Ok, open your mouth, I’m going to waterfall some of T H E L I Q U I D in there!”

“Wh-why’d you say ‘the liquid’ like that?”

“Oh…uh…” Annie abruptly stammered. “...it’s just a thing that I do.”

“.........ummm…ok……?”

“Anyway, open up!”

“So is this liquid going to, like, cool my insides or something?”

“Even better! T H E L I Q U I D is going to shrink you down to bite-size, and then I’m gonna gulp you down, and then-”

“Wait, what? But the human digestive system is nowhere near as cold as a pool, or AC, or whatever, in fact, it's probably even warmer than the surface of this bench, so I really don’t see how that's supposed to help, like, at all!” you suddenly barged in with a question.

“...well maybe that’s because you didn’t let me finish talking.” Annie mumbled in a slightly irritated tone.

“...oh. S-Sorry.” you immediately apologize in awkward embarrassment.

“Anyway-” Annie continued on, her prior facial expression evaporating in an instant. “You drink T H E L I Q U I D, I swallow you, and then I drink some of T H E L I Q U I D, and it cools my insides down!”

“Ok, I guess that makes sense, but how do you know that each desired effect will happen for each of us when… t h e l i q u i d is exactly the same?”

“..............................................................”

“...D-Did I say something wrong?”

“...please just open your mouth.”

Responding with zero words at all, and instead parting your jaws are you were told, Annie once again reverts back to a state of casual contentedness, before raising up her bottle above your head, and meticulously lining up the waterfall so none of T H E L I Q U I D would splash on your face. Once she’s sure she’s got the correct angle, she slowly tilts the bottle downwards, until T H E L I Q U I D within begins succumbing to the law of gravity, and lands itself inside your mouth.

An overwhelming flood of blueberry-blue-raspberry flavored fizzy carbonated drink washes itself directly onto your taste buds before swishing its way down towards your gullet. Instantly swallowing the moment it hits, knowing very well what would happen if you didn’t, you are able to feel gulp after gulp of T H E L I Q U I D sloshing its way down your throat as Annie continues to pour. You had absolutely no clue just how long this scene went on for. What you did know, however, is that as soon as Annie pulled away her bottle, you nearly choked yourself gasping out for air.

“PHWAH-GAAAH! AAAAURGH, BAAAGH! AAGH-UHUH! Uuuuuuuhhh. So…*ahem*! When does this stuff start kicking in, exactly?” you asked after finishing clearing your windpipe from T H E L I Q U I D.

“Uh………look up, buddy.”

“........oh.”

“*Pffft*! Were you so distracted from coughing that you didn’t even realize you were getting shrunk?”

“...I suppose I was!” you nonchalantly responded from the surface of the bench, now at a size which was comparable to a mouse’s.

“Bwahahahaha! I-ok no I won’t make fun of you. Or at least, any more than I already did. Just uh…yeah, just hop up on my hands and I’ll get'cha down there in no time!”

With Annie’s hands now extended in a cupping motion before you, it wasn’t long at all before you found yourself positioned on your knees in a crawling pose (as, despite your new size, you recognized you still wouldn’t be able to walk in), getting raised up towards the face of the now relatively giant woman.

“Alright! Ya ready?” Annie asked you in preparation of what was about to happen next.

“Ayup!” You affirmed alongside a thumbs-up in response. “...anything other than walking all the way to the pool.”

Annie couldn’t help but snort out a significant chuckle at your little comment. Nonetheless, once she had, she brought you slightly closer to her face, before finally, opening her maw.

Parting her jaws to just as far as they could comfortably stretch, Annie proceeded to stretch out her pink-ish red colored tongue, in order to bridge the remaining gap between the gaping chamber and her cupped hands where you waited. Upon the muscle’s tip flopping down onto the skin of her wrists, you were able at last to enter her maw, and begin your much-needed journey to her stomach.

Your hands squishing down onto the damp surface of the tongue as you shuffled forwards into the chamber, the very first thing you noticed was that, presumably due to the sheer amount of T H E L I Q U I D Annie had been drinking, her maw was significantly cooler than you had expected, to the point where it could almost be described as room temperature inside the goopy chamber. This in and of itself was most definitely a desperately welcomed break from the scorching summer heat outside.

Once the whole of your form had clamored its way into her maw, Annie began to rise back up her lower jaw, though in a steady and cautious manner as to not cause any issues for you. Once the two rows of fanged teeth had slidden back together again, you were now officially sealed away from the scalding, sweltering rays beating down on you from the sun high above. You collapse your exhausted body with a depleted sigh onto the surface of the pillowy tongue, and take a second to truly appreciate the current lack of heat from your surroundings.

Eventually, however, you sense the muscle beneath you rising up, which inevitably causes your head to bump up against Annie’s rough and rigid hard palate. Annie silently and slowly lowers her tongue back down after this, as you internally decide to not make a fuss over the moment. Annie then begins to tilt her head back instead, so you may start sliding into her pharynx. Gazing deep down into the specified region below as the saliva around you slickens up your being as it only continues slipping deeper, you examine in sudden fascination Annie’s vocal chords inside her larynx as the air flows in and out around their fragile form. The larger woman’s uvula bumps itself against your head as you do this, but this hardly bothers you at all as your descent continues onwards, and eventually reaches the root of the tongue. Now, you were able to observe Annie’s epiglottis flipping over to cover her glottis, as she swallows hard to push you through her upper esophageal sphincter, and into her esophagus as such.

Immediately after your head and upper body had been squeezed past the natural valve into the muscular tube, you realized that the organ’s color was significantly different from the maw’s. Instead of the fleshy pink-ish red color typical of esophagi, it was instead pink-ish purple color, or perhaps even magenta. Pretty soon after this, you could feel your lower body getting squelched into the esophagus along with the rest of your being, allowing the natural motions of peristalsis to guide you towards your final destination.

Annie, as soon as she’s finished swallowing you, gives a relaxed sigh to commend the completion, before plopping herself onto the left end of the bench, and laying a hand over her middle; the other one, hanging over the bench’s armrest. With her bottle currently in her right hand, Annie, if but instinctively, raises it up to her face, nearly taking a giant swig of its contents, before her critical thinking once again prevented disaster, causing her to sheepishly put it back down.

Meanwhile, within her esophagus, the constant, rhythmic, forward pulsing of the muscles around your tiny being have taken you all the way past Annie’s collarbone, meaning you were soon to enter into her stomach. Until then, though, your mind was able to occupy itself with the sudden observation that you were able to pick up the powerful thumping emulating from the larger woman’s heart, which would only get louder and louder as you were pushed deeper into her being. As you knew, however, that the moment it began to get softer was the moment that the lower esophageal sphincter should come into view at any second, you thus made sure to pay very close attention to its volume, as it thumped away within Annie’s chest.

And then, just like that, up against the baseline heart rate came a symphonic melody of gastric grumbles, immediately catching your attention as well. Even so, as you were still keeping an ear on the heart, you were very quick to deduce that the beating was definitely softer than it was seconds prior. Your eyes immediately darted directly downwards. Low and behold, there it was, as predicted. Your head was thus squeezed through the lower esophageal sphincter very soon afterwards, giving the rest of your body right of way as a result. You were then to experience a single second of tumbling freefall, before eventually, you stuck the splashdown landing. Annie instantly perks up upon sensing her stomach getting significantly active and sloshier.

As soon as you resurfaced with a gasp, inside the light blue, churning, growling organ, your ears were immediately greeted with a cheerful, victorious call of: “You made it!” from Annie outside. “Are ya ready for me to drink some of T H E L I Q U I D now, or should I give you like, a minute or two to get ready?”

Taking a moment to wipe the harmless, watery stomach juices off your face, you promptly clear your throat upon having been asked this question, before responding with a definite: “No, sooner is far better than later. You can go ahead and drink… T H E L I Q U I D now. (Did I put enough emphasis into it)?”

“Oh, that time, you most certainly did!” Annie responds in affirmation, whilst making a finger gun motion towards her guts. “And ok, but you better get ready when it comes!”

“Don’t worry, I’m…very much ready.”

“Alright then!” Annie firmly states while bringing her bottle up to her face again. “I’m gonna start drinking in three…two…one…HERE IT COMES!”

Gazing up in anticipation at the lower esophageal sphincter, you kept your ears just as focused for the entourage of swishing, torrential liquid. Eventually, the flooding rush of T H E L I Q U I D came through, given right of way from the sphincter in a picosecond, before violently pouring into Annie’s stomach, and causing the walls to expand very rapidly. Keeping your head above water as this continued, your eyes remained glued on the sphincter, awaiting the moment the flooding finally stopped. Back on the outside, Annie overdramatically removed her bottle from her lips at last, before releasing another calm: “Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh…….”. T H E L I Q U I D that remained flowed downwards and through the lower esophageal sphincter, until you finally saw it was over.

Feeling that a deep breath was rather warranted, you take in and heave forth the air from your lungs, before treading your way over to the light blue stomach walls, in order to lean up against them.

“...you alright in there, buddy?” Annie promptly pipes up to make sure you’re ok.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good! Don’t worry! I can…oh wow…this T H E L I Q U I D stuff really works, doesn’t it?”

“Hah, see? What did I tell you? Of course it would work, ya little Silly!”

Doing your very best to ignore the slight “I told you so!” undertone in Annie’s voice, lest this interaction end on a rather nasty note, you instead wait for her to speak again, lest you end up saying something you really shouldn’t.

“So……… what does it feel like in there, a room with the AC cranked up?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” you are now calmly able to respond, “Or that combined with the feeling of wading a nice, crisp pool…except this is more like being at the deep end. It’s still fine though, I’m comfortable up against the walls!”

“Great!” Annie exclaims in satisfaction at the overwhelming success of her idea. “Welp, you settle down in there, I guess! I’m just gonna keep walking along the sidewalk now!”

“Alright then, sounds good to me!”

And so, as soon as the conversation was wrapped up, you vigorously squished your face into the slick, cushiony light blue stomach walls, nuzzling your being into its softness, as it continued to lightly churn around you. Less than thirty minutes ago, the sun had been beating its cruelty down on your sweltering being. Now, the plasmic ball held absolutely zero power over your temperature, as you lay deep within Annie’s magically cooled down stomach. Thanks, of course, to the power of her iconic drink of T H E L I Q U I D.

****

Annie now continued her casual plodding across the tan-ish, concrete sidewalk lying at the edge of the parallel road.

Eventually, she came upon the crosswalk signal push-button machine region, where she would naturally need to wait to cross the road.

This was not what concerned her attention the most, however. Bending down slowly and cautiously, as not to disturb the one resting within, Annie’s fingers made contact with a large, dark gray, grooved bottlecap on the floor.

Silently picking it up, before screwing it back onto her bottle containing T H E L I Q U I D, Annie closed her eyes in peaceful contentment, as T H E L I Q U I D was sealed away once again.

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elagantwriterqueen · 2 years

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See You Again

A/N: Not sure how many chapters this will be, but please, enjoy :D

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Ruby Buckley

Warnings: eventual adult content, drinking, smut, fluff, sick to your stomach cuteness.

Summary: Story follows Ruby Buckley (fraternal twin to Robin), and Eddie Munson, 2 years after the upside down, and the permanent bond with this group of oddly matched people. She saved Eddie, and once Eddie was cleared from the murder charges he left Hawkins heading to the west coast for a new life. Losing touch with most of his friends, Eddie walks into a new record store and sees a familiar face.

Chapter One: West Coast

Ruby sighed as she rolled over to slam the snooze on her alarm clock that woke her from a pretty great dream. Stretching out and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she sat up sliding her feet into her gray fuzzy slippers. Ruby wasn’t much of a morning person, but today she planned on exploring her surroundings, after being in L.A. for a few months now. Her day off from the dance studio, she was training and working at, Ruby decided it was time to get out there. She had no friends here, and she kept to herself except the long distance calls to her sister, and best friend Steve back in Hawkins.

She paced around the apartment as her dark grey tabby cat Oliver watching from his perch near the window. Once she was heading for the kitchen the fur baby jumped down and weaved in and out of her legs letting her know it was breakfast time. “Alright Mr. Impatient, relax.” She quipped as she grabbed and filled his food bowl. Once her child was satisfied she made a bagel, and fed herself before getting dressed and ready to leave. Knowing how hot it would be, she threw on a light pink sundress that fell mid thigh. Her hair half up in space buns atop her head, little mascara nothing that would melt off if she sweat.

Ruby checked herself out in the full length mirror that sat in the corner of her bedroom, she smiled and grabbed her bag petting Ollie before she walked out the door.

……………………………………

Eddie dug through the dresser to find something to wear, choosing his black ripped jeans and an old Metallica shirt with the sides cut lower, the sides of his chest and stomach able to be seen. He had a day off from work, and there was a new record store that opened a few weeks back that he hadn’t come up with enough free time to actually go. The new Iron Maiden album had been released a few days ago and Eddie couldn’t wait to get his hands on it. After deciding he looked presentable to head out into public, he grabbed his wallet and keys, setting out for a day on the town…alone. When he moved to L.A Eddie wanted a fresh start, no one to know who he was or where he came from. Unfortunately being unable to make actual friends followed him too, he talked to Dustin and Steve almost daily but no one in this area to fill his quiet time. Steve did tell him last night that Robin's sister, Ruby had moved to L.A. about 4 months ago, after New York didn’t work out for her.

The Buckley twin that had saved his life 2 years ago when he was attacked by the Demobats, and nearly bled to death. Eddie was grateful for what she had done to save him, he honestly thought if he had met her sooner the whole situation with Chrissy wouldn’t have happened at all. Because Ruby would be his girl, and he wouldn’t have even taken the cheerleader up on her offer to sell her anything. Eddie had watched Robin and Ruby through the halls, walking arm in arm to class, while patting Dustin on the head. Ruby wasn’t as outspoken and awkward as her sister, she was quieter and didn’t seem to get as tongue tied as Robin. Before she showed up to the boathouse with her friends to find Eddie, he’d only spoken to her a handful of times in Biology class.

As Eddie strolled through the streets towards his destination he wondered if he’d see her, L.A. was a big city so the chances were slim but he was slightly hopeful. From the minute he seen her in the doorway of the boathouse he felt an electric shock to his heart, she was beautiful and she believed him. Not once did Ruby ever look at Eddie as though he could have possibly been guilty. There was a small coffee shop on his way, he stopped, grabbed a cup of coffee and a donut before trekking through the already warm morning in L.A.

…………………………………

By the time Ruby made it to the record store she wanted to check out, it was almost sweltering and sticky hot. As she entered the building the small bell above her head going off, and the cool breeze of air conditioning hitting her in the face was a warm welcome. “Morning!” The young guy behind the counter smiled acknowledging her presence, and she gave a small wave in return. She wandered around the aisles in search for something to catch her eyes, without noticing someone walking right towards her, their nose in the album they were looking at.

The sudden collision made Ruby stumble back, almost falling on her back, but was caught by a strong hand. One adorning familiar rings, she’s seen this hand before, there was no way this was happening. “Jesus Christ! I’m so sor—“ he paused, eyes wide not sure if this was real. “Ruby?!” She smiled as she stood up right fixing her dress, “Eddie Munson, didn’t think I’d see you again.” He smiled pulling her into the tightest hug she’d ever received, it was warm, and although he was squeezing her, it was gentle. Pulling away seeing how red his cheeks were made her blush even harder. “I thought you were in New York, what are you doing here?” “It’s called stalking, ever heard of it?” She laughed, shaking her head. “They didn’t want me, so I figured I’d try Cali, see if I had any luck.”

“Well I guess their loss is Munson's gain.” He smiled looking directly into her beautiful blue eyes, making her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. “You live around here Eddie?” Ruby asked quickly, changing the subject, playing mindlessly with the strap of her bag. “A few blocks east. You?” “Actually just around the corner, we should hang out sometime. I could cook you something?” A hopeful smile crept upon her face waiting for the curly haired metal head to answer. “Yeah that would be awesome, why don’t you give me your number and I’ll give you a call so we can set something up.” Eddie responded with that big goofy grin she loved so much, as she grabbed a pen and scrap piece of paper from her bag.

After handing him the paper, she threw her arms around his waist pulling him into a bud, “it was really good to see you Eddie. Call me!” Ruby smiled, walking out of the store before he could even picture what to do or how to respond to her hug. He took the record he just purchased and tucked it under his arm, racing towards home, he couldn't wait to tell Steve who he ran into. And he had to find out how long to wait, before he called and asked her out. Trying to catch his breath as he ran up three flights of stairs, he grabbed the phone quickly dialing. “Hello?” “Harrington, it’s Eddie.” He panted, throwing himself down on the lousy excuse for a couch. “What the hell is wrong with you Munson?” “Ruby, I ran into her. She gave me her number, and offered to cook me dinner. When do I call?” Eddie rolled his eyes at the loud cackle that escaped his friend's mouth, “Buckley! Eddie finally ran into Rubes, and she gave him her number, and offered to cook.” “Holy shit! They are getting married Steve!” Eddie rolled his eyes and laughed, “calm down Buckley, when do I call her Steve??” “Tomorrow, after 5 she gets done with dancing at 4:30.” “Alright, I’m taking your word for this Steven!” Eddie hung up, getting up and placing his new record on the record player, kicking back on the couch imagining what hanging out with Ruby was going to be like.

#robin buckley #steve harrington #stranger things #dustin henderson

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freaks-and-facades-ravenloft · 1 year

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Freaks & Facades: Session One - Vignettes Part One

Welcome all to the first full recap of Freaks & Facades, a D&D 3e/3.5 campaign that has drawn strangers from across the Planes for reasons tenebrous and strange.

We will be splitting this story into several smaller posts to keep you, our lucky reader, from being overwhelmed at the start. This is a recap of the first session, a series of Horror Vignettes that introduced our amazing cast of characters and drew them together.

These are the individual horror stories of how Pryrrish, Schrödinger and Fenri were drawn into Ravenloft by the Mists!

Warning: this is a horror campaign setting, so bear that in mind before reading. Possible triggers for these first vignettes: claustrophobia, fire, falling...

We hope you enjoy! *starts projector* - Aboleth Eye

Pryrrish Norfaer

Pryrrish wanders the Mournland, the magical wasteland of what was once Cyre. She is guided on her quest by the Tome she carries, a massive book of dark symbols only she can read. She is searching for a long-lost subterranean prison beneath the dead city of Making. Supposedly it was where the rulers of Cyre imprisoned and studied outsiders, and the Tome draws her towards the lost prison.

She finds the prison entrance and enters the misty darkness. But Pryrrish finds nothing but dungeon-cleaning oozes and empty cells... Until she spots a cloaked figure down a hallway. It runs from her down into the dark depths of the prison, and Pryrrish follows!

It leads her down a spiraling stairway, deep into the earth. The elf swallows her fear of tight spaces and runs down. Down, down, down. Into darkness and rising Mists... Always the figure ahead is just around the corner... How deep has she gone?

Pryrrish turns around, struggling to find her step as the Mists swallow her augmented vision. She hears footsteps from above and watches a shadowy afterimage pass her by; a translucent silhouette of herself.

She begins to panic, the stairwell never ends! The mists are impossible to see through. She couldn’t read the Tome at her side even if she wanted to, she has nothing to guide her except her instincts. But everything is murky and opaque! And then she finds the curved wall, her only support on this endless stair, has also become unsure. Pryrrish could pass through it towards... What?

Pryrrish, surrounded on all sides by the Mists, decides to risk this new unknown path rather than be trapped forever on a downward spiral. She pushes through, defying the physical limits she knows should be present, and walks on a sideways path. Still unsure and shrouded in Mist, but her own decision.

This new path is murky as the spiral, but now Pryrrish knows she’s not alone. Sounds of scraping reptilian claws. Flapping knife-edged feathers. Snarling maws that drool at the sight of her exhausted flesh. She hears so much around her in the endless bank of Mist, finding the strength to run forward. But the sounds keep pace. She runs and runs, dagger in hand, clutching her Tome! There’s suddenly a doorway, of purest light that defies the Mists and Elemental Dark surrounding her!

She rushes inside! The doorway slams behind her...

Ludwig Hössler Schrödinger

Young lord Schrödinger needs to leave Ludendorf tonight! His endeavor to share his experiments with the so-called Syndicate of Enlightened Minds has put all he’s worked for, and all the support his parents put into his studies, at risk. His first time in Lamordia’s biggest city, strolling in with luggage for a prolonged stay, is now ending with him jamming everything vital in a single valise. He hears the mob coming down the street to his hotel, the fools and deniers of true science with their pitchforks and torches!

Betraying his height and build, Schrödinger miraculously leaps from his hotel window to the rooftops across the street. But unfortunately, such a sight has easily caught the mob’s attention. They fire upon him as he dashes away on the roofs of Ludendorf. He poorly slides down a drainpipe to an alley entryway, rushing into the misted corridors. If he can reach the next street over he can lose the mob and leave the city! He must return to Schwartzsteinburg, his home, and to the open arms of his beloved parents. They understand him, they will protect him as they always have...

But the alleys of Ludendorf confuse the nobleman scientist. The Mist spills out from every corridor and sewer grate, making it impossible to navigate. And yet the mob appears to know every turn and twist he takes! The sounds of their shouts echo through the abandoned alleyways! The lights of the torches grow brighter and brighter! Is he fleeing or being herded?

Schrödinger finds himself finally at a dead end. No way to jump to the rooftops from here, no doors to break down. The mob grows louder, closer, more eager to tear him and his life’s work to shreds! He looks around, begging fortune to smile upon him... Only an open sewer grate, Mist spilling out like a wellspring, is before him. Does he dare degrade himself further to trekking through the sewers? Already humiliated and despised by those who dare to cull the unique and new?

Wounding his pride, Schrödinger leaps into the sewer...

He falls a long time. Far, far, far too long. All is darkness and icy fog slashing past him as he falls deeper and deeper into the Misty nothingness. This defies logic greater than anything. Will he fall forever, slowly eroded by the Misty winds that make his bones shudder?

No. Suddenly Schrödinger knows the ground is fast approaching. He cannot see it, but he knows he will be crushed by the impact. Him and all he’s pursued, his life’s work; destroyed all the same as if the mob had claimed him!

Staring down at his inevitable demise, bracing for the impact, Schrödinger is thrown once again as a doorway of light opens up! He sails through it, gravity lurches a completely different direction.

He rolls and rolls against solid wood, tumbling helplessly until he collides with something hard and stable. His eyes adjust to the light...

Fenri Sunwillow

In the vast city of Greyhawk, Fenri the halfling sits in the loneliest and dirtiest tavern possible. The food and ale are terrible, the lone minstrel is pitiful and the barkeep is very unfriendly. Fenri sits alone, all her companions have abandoned her. But despite this hopeless atmosphere, Fenri Sunwillow has faith that Pelor the Dawnfather will see her through.

Suddenly a group of thugs burst in and begin to spread out through the tavern. Their leader, a terribly cruel-eyed dwarf with massive iron boots, stomps in and begins to threaten the barkeep for not paying protection money. Fenri skips over and tries to be the diplomat, offering the thugs and their leader friendship and a chance to use their obvious strength in great adventures. They laugh at the halfling cleric.

But suddenly the thugs leave, the tavern’s “debts” still unpaid. They close the door behind them. Fenri tries to follow but the door is blocked for some reason... The back is blocked as well. Panic rising among the two other people in the tavern, Fenri channels the strength of her god to throw a table through a window. Only to find the thugs outside ready to toss in vials of alchemical fire.

The tavern erupts into terrible green flame! The dwarf uses a scroll to create a wall of stone before the newly broken window, sealing them all inside to burn with the building! Fenri looks about, and she realizes tavern’s large fireplace has a chimney big enough to climb up! With her divine strength she rushes in and climbs! The sounds of burning agony behind her...

Fenri climbs, green and gray Misty smoke choking her lungs and obscuring her vision. She climbs higher. And higher... The flames are beneath her always, ready to lick at her feet, despite her being unable to see. Higher and higher she climbs... Surely the building was not this tall? But through the acrid smoke Fenri sees nothing but the chimney opening above, never closer.

The climb is getting to her. Fenri knows the strength of Pelor is only hers for a short time. She is alone, no sound of those trapped with her climbing up after... The green and gray fire roars and roars. The chimney is nothing but gray smoke, her tiny hands clutching desperately at the murky stones...

Time inevitably, and despairingly, catches up to Fenri. The divine strength of her clerical domain, her faith in Pelor augmenting the strength of her tiny body, suddenly vanishes. And Fenri falls! Slowly. So slowly, the flames beneath her awaiting their morsel... Regrets and despair weighing the halfling cleric down, the Sun now out of reach... She looks to the opening, and realizes it was blocked off by a board this whole time...

Suddenly, a flash of heat passes her by and Fenri rolls rapidly on solid ground. She collides with something large and soft, staying curled up in her armor for a few moments. Then... she opens her eyes a peek...

Freaks & Facades: Vignettes - Session One will continue in Part Two! Click here to read on!

Thanks for reading! We hope you enjoyed these first tales of our friendly freaks as much as we do!

Parts: Zero/Cast, One P1, One P2, Two, Three, Four [tbd]

Aboleth Eye, 05/02/2023!

#Freaks & Facades #fandf #campaign recap #ravenloft #d&d #d&d recap #session one #vignettes #vignettes part one #Freaks and Facades #pryrrish #pryrrish norfaer #schrodinger #ludwig hossler schrodinger #fenri #fenri sunwillow #original characters #our characters

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