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lucozadehulahoop · 6 months

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A question of time (Astarion x fem! tav/reader) part 1/?

Summary: Cazador gets his hands on the daughter (tav) of the Elven goddess Sehanine and a common mortal, hoping to manipulate the girl over time and obtain the favor of her protection while he prepares for his Ascension, during which he plans to sacrifice her to gain more power than any devil could ever promise him.

Unfortunately, as the plans for his Ascension become more and more concrete, his ward is summoned every night by the sweet cries of the most tortured out of all his slaves, and she cannot bear to leave his side.

Meanwhile, it has become increasingly obvious to Astarion that his Master does in fact have a weakness, a certain someone he keeps locked away and safe... there is nothing Astarion wants more than to snuff that little light out of Cazador's eyes, no matter if it's the last thing he ever does.

tags and TW pre-bg3! Astarion, slave!Astarion, mentions of torture and abuse, demi-goddess!tav, Cazador being all sorts of creepy, eventual NSFW (minors stay away kindly, thank you darlings)

Part 2 here ! Part 3 Part 4

I'll take you under my wing, Somebody should

-A Question of Time, Depeche Mode

Astarion had come to the conclusion that the excruciating torture Cazador imposed on him every night was becoming unbearable to the point he was now hallucinating.

It had happened three times now, always when he felt at his lowest. When he was so desperate and alone in his suffering, that he could only wish for someone to drag him out in the early dawn and leave him to burn alive, she would appear.

A clear figment of his imagination. A soul so ethereal yet warm, soft, and real. It made no sense for a creature like that to be down in the dungeons with the likes of him, her silk dress soaked from his own blood. Cazador was never really done with him until the entire floor was soaked in the thick red liquid.

Astarion had been afraid at first. He had never even seen her enter the room. She was just there, at his side. He'd made a feeble attempt to back away when she'd attempted to reach out for him. She had stopped herself in her tracks, and spoken to him softly. Astarion hadn't understood a word. He only knew this was another trick, another evil sent to punish him.

He'd passed out soon after.

The following night he'd realised he didn’t feel as weak as he usually did after a beating. He'd been healed. Somehow he'd even been granted a lavish pillow to rest his head on instead of the cold hard ground he was used to.

Alarmed, Astarion immediately did his best to hide it, using all of his strength to stuff the pillow behind a loose set of bricks in the walls of the dungeon. His master would not have been very forgiving if he thought one of his spawn had been stealing from him.

..☆..

A few weeks passed before the hallucination presented itself again.

It had been another terrible night and Cazador had decided Astarion needed to be sealed up in a coffin again.

Astarion cried like a babe. He begged his Master, promised to do anything for him, to give him anything he wanted. At some point he even attempted to convince Cazador to simply kill him once and for all. But it was no use, and soon he was sealed back into the darkness.

Astarion wondered how long he'd be left to rot this time. Another year? Two? What if this time Cazador simply... forgot about him? Left him to suffer his bloodlust and paranoia for all of eternity?

The world would move on, new cities would be built above his head and no one would be able to hear his cries—

Astarion almost jumped out of his bones in fear when the coffin was being opened up again. He was more than happy to take this little mercy from his Master in exchange of whatever other punishment he chose.

But it was not Cazador's face he ended up facing in the dark.

It was his angel, once again there to save him. Or more likely , as Astarion had been beginning to suspect, to lead him on to the next life.

This time he could see her more clearly. At first glance she might have been any other noble young lady from the city, the kind that had an array of suitors waiting outside her door. She looked like the type to make someone go mad from love or heartbreak, and Astarion was certain there were many out there already dedicating songs and sonnets to her beauty.

Yet her regal attire, while exquisite and fashionable, did not suit her. In fact, it seemed as if she were completely out of place wearing something so mundane. Something told him she wasn't exactly human, or elven for that matter. Her wide eyes were reading him like an open book, yet she did not say a word.

"Now, I don't know who you are..." Astarion warned, barely finding the strength to speak after an almost constant state of screaming and crying. "...or what you want with me... but I can tell you're not his. Because, if you were... you would know how dead we're both going to be when he catches you trying to get me out of here."

She attempted to speak, reaching out for a cut on Astarion's cheek. "You're —"

"You better get the fuck out of here, if you know what's good for you—" Astarion growled, snatching her wrist and squeezing it so tight, if she had been human it would have snapped in his hand like a twig. "And I trust you know how to board up this coffin again since you've been capable of roaming around a den of starving vampire spawn and making it out alive. Twice."

She gave out a wail of pain and Astarion finally let her go. He wasn't about to rot even longer than he had to in a coffin because of yet another reason that was completely out of his control.

The young woman stood there in front of him, undecided on what to do.

"I can't." She said, finally.

"But you will!" Astarion, roared, panicking about the very real possibility of Cazador assuming he'd managed to break out of his confinements himself. "By the hells! Put me back the way you found me and be on your way—"

"But you were crying—" She interjected.

"E-excuse you?" Astarion smiled uneasily, tilting his head to the side. What did this silly little girl think she knew about him?

"I heard you." The odd little thing in front of him answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You were calling out for help. You said, anything but the dark-"

Astarion's eyes burned with rage and hot tears. Suddenly he was stumbling out of the coffin, grabbing the woman by her frilly bloodstained clothes, and pinning her up against a wall. "You're here to doom me, is that it? You're some kind of faerie pulling a cruel joke on me, are you? Trying to give him even more excuses to hurt me. Is that it?" He panted frantically, straining his ears to pick up any signs of Cazador's return. "Here to feed on my suffering, are you?" Astarion attempted to grill answers out of her.

The supposed faerie did not seem concerned with the fact an unstable bloodthirsty creature currently had her trapped with no way of escape. She slowly reached for a huge gaping wound on Astarion's abdomen, and for a few moments he was transfixed by how quickly the flesh healed itself back together under his very eyes.

"I do not wish to bring you harm." She explained calmly. "I thought you would enjoy the freedom. He is away. And I promise to put you back as you were before his return."

Astarion shook his head and laughed maniacally. Freedom. His prayers had somehow been answered but he didn't trust the situation one bit. "Is that right, princess?" He taunted her. "And who just might you be to know the comings and goings of the Master of this house better than his own spawn?"

"He calls me his daughter."

..☆..

The revelation never left Astarion's head, even in the days that followed. Cazador... his heartless captor, his psychotic jailor, had a weakness. Initially, he'd thought about what it would have been like to take the life of Cazador's precious daughter right there and then, damned by the consequences.

But that would have been too easy. No, Astarion had finally stumbled upon something that gave him an edge over his Master, and his revenge was going to be carefully thought out. Sweet as can be.

Cazador had never mentioned his daughter to any of them so Astarion had no rules or commandments looming over his head. She was the perfect way to get revenge after almost two centuries of suffering. He just needed to be clever about it. He could not squander an opportunity like this.

The prospect of hurting Cazador made the torture much more barerable during the coming weeks. In fact, Astarion didn't know whether he was delirious or if all of that suffering was just feeding the fire burning inside of him more and more.

Once he'd been finally freed to go out and bring a new victim for Cazador to feast on, his plan he been set into action. Going out on a limb, Astarion assumed Cazador had tucked his daughter in the highest room of the tallest tower of his castle, where none could get to her and where she could never see the true horror of who her father truly was.

Under the cover of night, he scaled the side of the castle walls with nothing but some climbing tools and his own blessed agility. And as he did so, his mind was flooded with the same questions he'd been plagued with since the last night he'd seen the young woman. How was it possible that Cazdor had sired a daughter? What was the nature of her powers? They did not seem to have sliver of relation between them. And why, oh why, was she so determined to care for Astarion of all people?

Had Cazador set her on it? Was it all some sick game? Only one thing was for sure. Cazador had hidden the girl from everything and everyone, so at some fundamental level he must have cared for her.

That was all that mattered to Astarion. It was worth risking Cazador's eternal wrath just to see even a tiny sliver of pain in his eyes. A crack in his armor. And there was no doubt in his mind that would soon be true, just as soon as he found his daughter's lifeless body and her blood splattered all across the castle walls on his return.

"Are you stuck?" Her voice called out to him from her bedroom window as she looked down at him. Yes, Astarion had been slightly stalled by his thoughts. He looked up at her. Well, there went the element of surprise. He certainly was not planning on underestimating her. The girl had true power coursing through her veins.

Yet, he had not anticipated the scenario and now he was at a loss for words. A first for him. "No I was just, well I was—"

"Just close the window when you come up, okay? It's getting cold in here." She admonished him, before disappearing back inside. Astarion was a little taken aback. Had she known he was coming?

When he finally stepped into her chambers, he got a full understanding of just how capable Cazador was of spoiling and pampering someone he cared about. The room was lavish and spacious, almost every single item worth more than the average working person in Baldur's Gate could make in their entire lifetimes.

She was there, simply brushing her hair in front of the fireplace, almost completely uncaring about the fact a stranger had just invaded her private quarters.

Astarion let a dagger slip out of his sleeve, and only then did she turn around to look at him. He hated it, wishing he could have gotten the chance to kill her in her sleep or with a stab to the back, so he wouldn't have had to stare into those mesmerizing pools again.

"You won't hurt me, Astarion." She simply stated.

Astarion ground his teeth in anger. It really wasn't fair how perfect his name sounded on her tongue.

"I see his brat is not only spoiled, but entitled too. What makes you think you'll get out of this?" Astarion marched over towards her. "What makes you think your life will be spared against the countless others I've dragged to the grave in your father's name?" He snarled drawing his blade up to her perfect neck.

The sound of her pulse was enchanting and exhilarating at the same time. If he only could have, he would have gorged himself with her blood, sunk his teeth into her perfect flesh.

"Because... you're afraid the next time you call for help you'll be alone. For good." She answered honestly, seeing right through him as if he were made of glass.

The young woman had meant no offense, but Astarion took it nonetheless. In one swift move, he had a dagger to her throat, tears brimming in his eyes. He hated that she was right, but he was going to prove her wrong nonetheless.

"You think you're so smart, don't you love?" He sneered. "What? Were you so bored all couped up in your tower, you thought you could just have a little fun with one of your daddy's toys? That bastard's going to get what's coming to him—"

Suddenly, she was placing a hand over Astarion's mouth and cutting him off mid-speech. For the first time ever, Astarion saw the strange girl display concern in her features. No... it was genuine fear in her eyes.

"He's... he's down the hall." She whispered, more concerned with her father's arrival than the blade at her throat. Astarion dropped the weapon and froze, completely incapable of doing anything except await for his punishment in silence.

"What are you doing?" She fretted over him. "You need to leave!" The girl tried to put some sense into him but it was useless. Her attempts to drag him towards her closet were also fruitless.

Astarion was frozen, his eyes on the door and his ears keenly listening to Cazador's steps as they drew nearer.

___

AN: Let me know if you'd like part 2, comments are appreciated 🤧🥺

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fic #astarion smut #astarion angst #astarion fluff #bg3 astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 x you #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader

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mo0nfairy · 1 year

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I gotta see a part of yandere Leon where reader remembers him as they get through los Iluminados maybe some yandere in action lol (at least only if you want to!)

part 1. part 3. part 4.

tw :: obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, mention of drugs, framing, handcuffs, stalking, trauma, guns, wounds, heights, being locked up.

⸺ ooooooo !!! i've been meaning to make a part 2 of my last ask, but had zero idea where to go from where i ended. i also had played a bit of RE2 before the remake came out recently, so a piece of my brain has been kept up in raccoon city for a little while. i would love to express my thoughts and mesh these two games together !!

let's start with where we left off in los iluminados.

upon having your handcuffs taken off by the stranger who is far too close for comfort, you pace backwards, far away as you can get from this insanity of a man. his attitude abruptly shifts into something softer, a major contrast to the emotional breakdown he had just seconds prior. he realizes you're afraid — afraid of him. and as much as the mere thought destroys him to the point of breaking down again, he shoves a sob back down his throat and keeps his distance, despite how desperately he wishes to close it.

6 years. 6 years. he has been waiting over 2,190 miserable days for this single moment. all the sleepless nights spent searching the world for you; all the hopeless nights spent clinging to pillows, praying by some miracle it will somehow become you. every second of these past 6 years has been spent dreaming of this single moment. and even though your reunion wasn't the teary-eyed, passionate kiss in the rain he had hoped for, you are still here with him nonetheless.

and like hell will he let you slip from his grasp again.

with as much time as his needy self would grant him being physically away from you, he is soon at your side. leon then wraps you in his jacket and you swear you hear a harsh gasp escape from him when his finger accidentally makes contact with the skin of your neck. despite your negligence and more-than-obvious discomfort, you do appreciate the new warm embrace after a week of cold rain and damp clothes. it smells exactly like him, as well.

and with that, he's got a gentle hand hovering over your lower back as he guides you through the depths of this hellhole. and piece by piece, memories that had been buried in your brain begin to disinter themselves.

for example, you got a staring problem bro?? for the entirety of the time you spend with leon in los iluminados, there is literally never a single moment where this mans eyes are not on you. half of the time it is to ensure you are unharmed, but the other half consists of him staring in complete and utter awe. it's kind of hard to focus on surviving when leon is constantly staring into your soul. but it has just been so fucking long since he has been able to see you in all of your glory, so please excuse him for any inappropriate behavior on his end.

also, you knew you have lived in raccoon city for a short period of time before the events of RE2 happened, but like everything else that relates to that damned place, you couldn't remember a thing.

except now. leon's gaze uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held in one of the RPD holding cells. the atrocious scent, the uncomfortable bench, the paint peeling from the walls. you try and scrutinize what on earth you could have been arrested for, but your attempts are merely futile. but unbeknownst to you, your arrest was nothing but bullshit. and to say leon has had a crush on you from the second you moved into RC would be nothing short of the truth. so, by pulling some strings, the rookie had managed to lock you up for what he calls 'bonding time'. he'll place a chair backwards in front of your cell, prop his arms on the backrest and admire you with your full attention finally on him (instead of just stalking you around town).

two things you now remember about this man: he was so adorably baby-faced back then and my god, was he awkward. he still cannot talk for shit and i mean this with my whole heart. his sweet, innocent eyes gaze at you while he tries to play it cool, pulling cards like "yeah, i workout" and "you come here often?". all as if he hadn't personally arrested you for possession of illegal substances he planted himself. (nothing will happen to you, obvi. he just desperately needed a second alone with you to show off how charismatic he can be. or try to be, at least).

and for the short second of seeing him after 6 years, his eyes were just devoid of any life. you had assumed the trauma inflicted from that night had caused such a contrast in his physical appearance, and you would be right to assume that. but the soulless eyes, monotone voice, and lackluster personality was entirely due to your disappearance. days upon days of the lonely, eternal torment destroyed his sanity. however, that illustrious boy you can barely remember seems to have returned with your presence.

another thing you can't believe you had forgotten was how intense his stare is. the way he stares is illegible and sometimes overwhelming. he shivers in his stance, whimpers at your every move, and his mind runs rampant with all sorts of obsessive declarations of love. although it may seem creepy to others and especially yourself, do not fret. he has no ill intent towards you, god he could never! this puppy-dog of a man is simply marveling at your sheer existence.

you are able to retrieve another lost memory when you have to jump from a window and into his arms (for those who say he won't be able to catch you, stfu. have ya'll seen how beefy his arms are??? anyways....). the secret agent you have grown to like during your stay in los iluminados jumps down marvelously (most def showing off his james-bond-esque agilities to you). he now watches from below as you stare at the distance beneath you in trepidation. this distrust you have — he is going to travel to the ends of the universe to fix it. no matter what.

you begin to ponder, he has savagely brutalized all threats in your path and held your hand as if he were holding the world all in the same breath. you should trust him, especially after witnessing the pure display of loyalty he has for you.

"don't be afraid, y/n. i'll catch you, i promise!" there is 10000% a way to walk through the house and down the stairs to get to him, but ofc he's not gonna tell you. why would he willingly throw away the opportunity to be your knight in shining armor?

"you will?" your voice is full of apprehension. his stare on you feels like the same bullets he's forced upon your attackers.

"always."

with that, you rip the bandaid off and jump from the ledge. and leon was most certainly not lying. you land safely in his embrace and he wraps his arms tightly around your form. and to finally have you so close, after so, so long of devastatingly praying he could feel you once more.......... if he had a tail, it would for sure be wagging so fast it would morph into a blur. and the way he holds you is different, as if his gentle nature is reserved for you and you only (which it is. this is literally him in a nutshell).

and when you had instinctively buried your face into his neck upon landing, clinging to him out of fear of hitting the ground, he literally melts. i'm serious, he literally just 🫠🫠🫠🫠. the faint hum of laughter and adoration that escapes his throat breaks you out of your state of shock. you made it safely to the ground without breaking every bone in your body, hooray! (as if there is a single reality in existence where leon would ever allow that to happen, but i digress).

you meet his gaze and there is that all-too familiar stare he gives you. leon's arms holding onto you like a lifeline uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held like this all those years ago. you can't recall exactly where in raccoon city you were, but you can remember how humiliated you were when you tripped over a crack in the pavement and ate shit. there was the fairest of scrapes against your shin, but the mortification hurt far more than any wound. while you dust yourself off and attempt to ignore the burning stares of pedestrians, a shout of your name sparks your attention.

the RPD gear and besotted eyes you're met with could be no other than that baby-faced rookie. you ponder of what he was doing on this side of town. was it a simple coincidence you had run into each other? or perhaps, had he followed you? just when you think you can't feel more embarrassed, leon gets down on one knee and dramatically inspects your wound. and my god, he acts like you were shot or something. he visibly shudders from the sight of your leg; people begin to gather around the commotion. with pure ease, he then scoops you into his arms to bring you to safety. you can feel his heart pound like a machine gun beneath the palm of your hand.

despite the humiliation deprived from this event, you fortunately are free from anything mortifying in los iluminados. however, leon doesn't seem to understand when to take a hint.

"uh... you can put me down now." you come out of your memory to thrash in his grasp and avoid his intense gaze, but your prince charming seems to still be caught in his y/n-filled daze.

after a few long seconds, your comment seems to finally reach his brain. "huh?" his response is faint and you almost don't hear it.

you repeat yourself and begrudgingly, leon then slowly puts you back onto your feet, savoring the last few seconds spent with you in his arms. exactly where you belong. you can only fear how much more suffocating affection you'll have to endure before you can finally remember what happened that night.

i think someone legit needs to slap me across the face and bring me back into reality cause holy shit...... i went WAYY too far with this. my brain is a mess thank u for reading.

i have more thoughts about this........ just incase u were curious........ ;)

#resident evil 4 #re4 #re4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #yandere leon kennedy #yandere resident evil #yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #venus’ brain #moonfairy

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rmsrkive · 18 days

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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐈 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑? | 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐁𝐓𝐒

summary: in which bts find themselves completely and utterly infatuated with one of the members of hybe’s newest girl group, le sserafim, developing a strange and unhealthy addiction to their junior

warnings: age gap (3-8 year age gap), oc is of consenting and legal age, yandere bts, unhealthy, possessive, and obsessive behavior, violence, idol au

a/n: here is the next oneshot of my strange addiction! i wanted to dedicate the second oneshot to providing a backstory of oc's life before she became an idol and what led her to quit her passion as a gymnast. i DO NOT know much about gymnastics so please forgive me for how vague this entire oneshot seems! if there are any inaccuracies, i apologize in advance and hope you understand. thank you! (also no bangtan in this one)

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

pairings: ot7 x fem reader

word count: 7479

taglist [CLOSED]: [@thepixienamednyxie @inlovewithallmusic @afiaaaa19 @minchedchilli @severuslovebot]

[@jjkluver7 @solaany @taekritimin123 @notvantaes @jewishmommy]

[@weeeeeekly @0rubyrose0 @thechillmage @cuntessaiii @earth2joon]

[@huni7857 @yukichan67 @coralmusicblaze @ts-1030 @mochisdayone]

[@devilzliaison @hollyschit @whenthebeatdrop-beatdrop @crushedblackroses @xicanacorpse]

[@blackswan446 @stopeatread @iammeandmeisiam @monysakura @iveivory]

taglist note: the taglist for my strange addiction is CLOSED. if you asked to be added to the taglist prior to this oneshot being published but i did NOT add you, please let me know so i can add you right away

masterlist

JULY-AUGUST 2021

Gymnastics was the only stability you had in your life.

When you were ten, your parents divorced. Constant fights were between them, often over minuscule subjects that were not worth arguing over. Their marriage had been strained before you were even born but they stayed together once they found out that your mom was pregnant with you. Holding onto a broken marriage for the sake of your surprise baby was an impressive feat but it only meant that they held resentment toward you. To your parents, you were the sole reason why they had yet to divorce. They were both tied down to you because they had to raise you and while they thought they were preventing you from growing up in a broken home, you were actually susceptible to their resentment.

They eventually divorced, leaving you amid a failed marriage. You tried picking up the broken pieces, desperately scrambling around in hopes they would love each other once again. Your attempts were futile and soon enough, you found yourself being exchanged at a random gas station every other weekend.

Not too long after they divorced, both of your parents found a new significant other and before you knew it, you had two additional parents and several step-siblings in your life. It rubbed you the wrong way how quickly they seemed to move on. Granted, they were in a loveless marriage for quite some time but to you, it seemed like they weren't mourning the loss of the family. You loved your step-parents and step-siblings more than anything as they welcomed you into their lives with open arms but sometimes you wished they didn't appear in your life so soon after your parents divorced. The wound of having split parents was too fresh and gaining new family members within a year of the divorce only added more pain.

You had three biological older siblings, two brothers, and one sister. All three of them were significantly older than you and by the time you were old enough to form a proper relationship with them, they were off to college to pursue their own future. Even now years later, you barely had a relationship with them. In your eyes, they were complete strangers with only the bond of a shared bloodline linking all of you. There was never a second thought about any of them.

When you were in elementary and middle school, you missed out on school often for gymnastics competitions around the world. After moving up to the junior level, you found yourself having to skip more and more school days to practice and prepare for all of the competitions you had to partake in. All of the friendships you had eventually dwindled away until you were left with your friends from the gym. Eventually, those friendships became rivalries as you competed against the same girls you once called your best friends.

Being a gymnast was the only constant in your life.

While everybody in your life slowly left you, you continued to pursue your career as a professional gymnast. The losses never swayed you as long as your hard work meant that you would end up with an Olympic title. Your only concern was reaching the goals you set for yourself once you determined in your heart that you would become a professional gymnast, no matter what it took.

But sometimes you wished you held onto your friendships and relationships tighter.

"I have never seen such sloppy technique from you, Y/N." Your coach glowered at you, a murderous glint in her eye. "The Olympics are right around the corner and here you are struggling with even the simplest of elements. Do you think you deserve to go to the Olympics when there are dozens of girls out there who are much better than you?"

You winced at her insult, your face burning in shame as you stared at the ground. Truth be told, you had no excuse as to why your practices weren't the best lately. Having an off day was normal for any athletes but you were having an unacceptable amount. In fact, you had been practicing poorly ever since you were named to be on the Olympic team.

"I'm sorry," You mumbled, looking up at your coach. "I'm trying my best."

"Your best isn't enough anymore, Y/N. If this is considered your best, what are you going to do when you get to Tokyo? Hoping that doing your best will get you an Olympic medal is a joke. You need to snap out of whatever mind block you're stuck in if you want to win a medal."

The pain from sinking your teeth into your bottom lip startled you, the taste of metallic mixing with the sting of your broken skin. Your coach sighed, rubbing her forehead as her gaze on you softened.

"You have a lot of potential, Y/N. I may be biased because you're my student but I know that you can win at least one gold medal in Tokyo. I've seen what you can do and you're miles above every other gymnast who qualified for the Olympics. Even if times are tough now, competing at the biggest competition in the world will be worth it. I promise it'll get better even if it feels like it won't. I believe in you, Y/N and I hope you believe in yourself too."

"Yes, coach." You nodded your head.

"We'll end practice early today. Go home and get some rest."

It was days like these where you wished you had someone to lean on and receive comfort from. Not a single person came to mind as you trudged to the locker room with tears burning your eyes, the stress of making it to the Olympics gradually growing on you. Nowadays, you often wake up with your heart pounding out of your chest and sweat dripping down your face as if you experienced a nightmare because of the stress that was weighing down on you. The second you realized you were awake, a feeling of dread washed over you as you thought about the future that lay ahead. The type of mindset and lifestyle that was overtaking your life was exhausting, to say the least.

Nevertheless, you powered through each and every day because giving up was not an option. You worked far too hard since you were three to quit gymnastics when the Olympics were right around the corner. You couldn't do that to your parents, who had put money and time into ensuring you would have a successful career. You couldn't do that to your older siblings who had their attention ripped away from them so their parents could focus on their youngest child. You couldn't do that to your coach who had spent the past five years pushing you and helping you become a better gymnast even when you were sure that you reached your limit. Too many people sacrificed a part of themselves for you to become one of the top gymnasts in the world; if you quit now, it would be a slap in the face to them.

How could you do that to the people you loved?

Y/N Y/L/N: The Gold Medal Favorite for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics

As the 2020 Tokyo Olympics is just around the corner, there are several names to look out for; Naomi Osaka, Simone Biles, Katie Ledecky, Allyson Felix, yet there is one athlete who has made a name for herself over the past four years: Y/N Y/L/N.

From the Republic of Korea, Y/L/N has made quite a name for herself in gymnastics. Her specialty is floor and she has blown the world away with her routines over the past few seasons. She has displayed extraordinary skills and tricks in her routines throughout the past few years. With several national and international titles, Y/L/N has become one of the favorites for an Olympic gold medal.

Hundreds of thousands of fans from around the world are said to be tuning into the Olympics to see her compete. She is currently one of South Korea's most famous athletes, being recognized among figure skating Olympic champion Kim Yuna and the legendary Son Heungmin. If Y/L/N wins an Olympic title in Tokyo this summer, she will be added to the Korean Sports Hall of Fame.

"Wow, the media is trying hard to push the Olympic champion agenda onto you." Yuri made a face, glad that she wasn't the one constantly in the spotlight. "This would make me want to kill myself."

"You're telling me." You mumbled.

Yuri liked to FaceTime you out of the blue despite being on the other side of the world. Ever since she started attending university, she found herself with more free time since she was no longer studying for the college entrance exam. Your step-sister was naturally a sociable person so you knew it killed her inside to dial down her social life once she began high school. You barely had any contact with her for the four years she was studying but now that she made it into South Korea's top university, all of her stress disappeared.

"What if you just quit gymnastics?" Yunchan wondered.

Yunchan was Yuri's older brother and he also was accepted to Seoul National University. You didn't expect any less from them as they had been extremely intelligent since you met them but having them attend the same university meant that they could bother you even more. As much as you loved your step-siblings, they annoyed you whenever they decided to bother you at random hours of the day.

"I've been thinking about it." You grumbled. "Don't give me ideas."

"What!?"

It was the first time saying out loud that you were thinking about quitting gymnastics. Every athlete at some point thought about quitting their beloved sport and even if they said it out loud, it was mostly an empty threat. You, on the other hand, were getting closer and closer to retiring each day. The toll that the wretched sport was taking on your mental and physical health was becoming gradually worse. As you progressed further in your career, more expectations were weighed down on your shoulders; you felt as if you couldn't make even the tiniest mistake without being berated. Ever since you began winning more competitions, it seemed as if the world was expecting perfection from you. You heard it from your coach and you heard it from the media and fans as well. While you didn't go out of your way to read articles and social media posts about you, some things did pop up on your feed which typically consisted of very opinionated comments.

On top of waking up with a start every morning, you were struggling to fall asleep. With the stress of a big competition around the corner, you found yourself unable to sleep with the tension and nerves weighing down on you. Melatonin helped for a little bit but eventually was no help. Every piece of advice provided by medical professionals and random strangers on the Internet was of no avail as well.

"Level with us, Y/Nie." Yunchan interrupted your train of thought. He noticed your troubled expression and mirrored it, worried that you were silently struggling and had been for a really long time. "You know we won't judge you and we're always here for you." Yuri nodded her head rapidly in agreement to show her support.

You pursed your lips together. "I don't like being a gymnast anymore. I think it's time for me to retire."

"Retire?" Yuri questioned incredulously. "You just turned 21. What do you mean it's time for you to retire?"

You couldn't help but smile at her remark, amused that she was assuming you were talking about retirement due to your age. "Not because I think I'm old, I'm just not happy being a gymnast. It's all I've been my entire life and I want to explore past that."

"That's true, you've definitely been tied down to gymnastics once people began to realize that you're very talented." Yunchan mused.

When he was younger, he heard his mom talking often about a girl named Y/N who was an incredible gymnast. You were a prodigy, somebody who was going to make it big in not only the world of gymnastics but in the world of athletes as well. He heard your name constantly until he met you one random day, being introduced to each other as step-siblings. Yunchan felt like he knew you inside and out before he even met you because of how much your dad talked about you.

"I guess I've been feeling unmotivated since the pandemic started," You confessed. "Having to train alone was exhausting; I was lucky that I had access to the gym but gymnastics became boring after not competing for so long and it still feels that way sometimes. Not only that, the media talks about how I'm the favorite for an Olympic gold medal and the way I'm being compared to Kim Yuna and Son Heungmin—the Kim Yuna and Son Heungmin mind you—is getting to me and the pressure has been stressing me out. The more expectations weighed down on me, the more I resent gymnastics. And now I don't want to compete anymore."

"Oh, unnie."

Yuri and Yunchan frowned, pitifully staring at you through the screen. You mustered a small smile, trying to hold back the tears that formed in your eyes out of frustration. You felt like a weight was somewhat lifted off of your shoulders after rambling to them but you had a lot more baggage to unpack. Confiding in somebody about the problems you had was the first step; acting upon them in a way that you would be happy with the end result was the final goal and quite frankly, it seemed as if you weren't going to reach it anytime soon.

"I don't know what to do anymore." You whispered, staring at your calloused hands that reflected the years of hardships endured from being a gymnast. "Don't get me wrong, I'm extremely grateful that my parents put in years of hard work and sacrifice so that I could be where I am today but why should I compete at the Olympics if I'm not happy anymore? There are so many gymnasts who didn't qualify for the Olympics that deserve my spot more than me. I guess I just feel bad about the entire situation."

"You deserve that position more than anyone, Y/Nie. It may be hard to believe but you know that you worked hard and sacrificed everything to make it where you are today. Sure, you may think that someone else is more deserving of your spot just because you don't want to be a gymnast anymore but that doesn't necessarily mean somebody should take your spot." Yuri said.

Yunchan nodded his head. "If you want to retire after the Olympics, then that's fine. I'm sure other athletes are in the same situation as you so there is nothing to feel bad about. It's okay to outgrow and move on from gymnastics because being a gymnast has been your identity for most of your life. You have the right to move beyond that and find something else that makes you happy." He added.

Your step-siblings were the youngest on both sides of your family yet they were wise beyond their years. You began to confide in them more as all three of you grew older and they never failed to provide you with comfort and advice. While your older siblings left you behind to start their own lives, Yuri and Yunchan immediately took their place. You were grateful that they were able to give you the relationship you always wanted with your older siblings but at the same time, you felt guilty for never making an effort to become closer to them

"Thanks, guys, I appreciate both of you so much." You sighed. "Even when we're on opposite sides of the world I can rely on you guys always. Where would I be without the two of the most important people in my life?"

One downside of the Olympics being held in Tokyo was having to travel to the other side of the world. You were lucky to have booked a non-stop flight that allowed you to reach Japan in twelve hours but the total travel time including getting through security and trying to get to your hotel was well over twelve hours. You collapsed on your bed the moment you walked into your hotel room, eager to take a nap before dinner.

Your first practice was in two days and it was an unofficial practice. Your coach managed to squeeze in practice for you and the other Korean gymnasts to get a feel of what the gym was like. There was nothing worse than stepping into a competition without adjusting to the new environment; any extra practices made all the difference in how you and your teammates performed.

You turned onto your back and grabbed your phone from your pocket, pulling up YouTube to watch the latest episodes of Going Seventeen that you missed. You barely had any free time to indulge in your favorite K-pop group because you were too busy practicing. Now that you had free time until the next day, you were prepared to spend every second catching up on Seventeen content you missed.

"Y/N, open the door!"

With a groan, you rolled off of your bed and trudged over to the door. You swung the door open to see your teammates standing on the other side, displeased with how they interrupted your free time. They were all dressed up, looking much more put together than they did when you arrived in Tokyo. Yunseo and Seojeong looked at you up and down, unimpressed how your outfit still consisted of the hoodie and sweats you wore on the plane. Haksoen, Hansol, Junho, Jeahwan, and Sunghyun weren't amused by the situation either.

"Why aren't you dressed, unnie?" Yunseo was miffed.

"What do you mean why aren't I dressed?" You furrowed your eyebrows before looking down at the clothes you were wearing. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I told you she didn't read our messages." Hansol piped up.

You grabbed your phone off of your bed and swiped down on your notifications coming to find that your teammates discussed going out for dinner to explore Tokyo. Admittedly, you muted the group chat and put your phone on Do Not Disturb after their countless messages interrupted Don't Lie III. How could you watch in peace when their messages were bombarding you?

"Sorry." You sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck. "I was watching Going Seventeen."

"I knew that was the reason why she wasn't responding." Sunghyun rolled his eyes. "If she's too busy to answer us it's because she's looking at other men."

Seojeong wagged her finger at him disapprovingly. "Don't be jealous, Sunghyun."

This time it was you who rolled your eyes. You made a show of closing the door on them but they all protested, filing inside one by one and settling into your room.

"We'll wait while you get ready, unnie." Yunseo smiled sweetly. "Just don't take too long or else Junho oppa might bite your head off."

"Hey, uncalled for." Junho frowned.

You hastily grabbed a random outfit from your suitcase before ducking away into the bathroom to freshen up. Quite honestly, you didn't want to go out but also knew you had limited time to explore Tokyo. It was clear that Yunseo and Seojeong had an itinerary for your time in Tokyo because they immediately dragged the rest of the team to a restaurant that had a table prepared for all of you.

After eating a filling dinner of ramen and udon, the younger girls led the group to a shopping center. Yunseo linked arms with you, giggling as she pulled you down the bustling sidewalk away from everybody else. She sensed your dampened mood when she walked into your hotel room and was worried about your mental state declining right before the Olympics. Although she didn't train with you, Yunseo could tell you were silently battling an inner conflict.

"How are you, unnie?" She asked, deciding it was better to be straightforward rather than beat around the bush. "I feel like we haven't spoken much since we got here."

"I flew in this morning, Yunseo." You smiled amusedly.

"Exactly." The younger girl cleared her throat before turning to you with a serious expression. "Are you okay, unnie? You've been really quiet and seem kind of down. I wanted to make sure you're fine."

You were touched that Yunseo was making an effort to reach out to you but were also worried that you were being too obvious about your struggles. "I'm fine. Just stressed about competing." A simple yet honest answer would surely suffice.

Yunseo raised her eyebrows, unconvinced by your answer. Your constant slumped shoulders and downcast eyes were a clear indication that you weren't feeling well both physically and mentally. Nevertheless, she dropped the topic, opting to respect your answer rather than prying for more information. "That's valid. This might not mean much to you but I know you're gonna do amazing like always. You've never placed off the podium since you moved up to the senior level and you're only getting better from here. If there's anybody on our team who's gonna walk away with an Olympic medal, it's you."

"Thanks, Yunnie. I really appreciate that you're looking out for me even if you're stressed about your events." You smiled.

She paused in the middle of the sidewalk, wrapping her arms around your torso before pulling you into a tight hug. "I'm proud of you for making it this far, unnie."

The rest of the group stopped in front of you, confused as to why the two of you were sharing a sentimental moment in the streets of Tokyo. They glanced at one another before continuing to walk past, only having eyes for the luxury stores lined up one after another.

Yunseo pulled away before cupping your face with her hands. "You'll do great. Remember: you're a gold medal favorite. You're going to walk away with an Olympic medal."

'You're a gold medal favorite. You have to walk away with an Olympic medal.'

You jolted awake, immediately pushing yourself upright. Your head whipped back and forth as you tried to make sense of where you were and why you weren't in your own bedroom. After a few seconds, you came to the realization that you were in the Olympic Village. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you calmed yourself down, checking the time on your phone. It was seven in the morning and you had a few hours until your final practice before the all-around individual event. A sense of dread flooded you as you thought about how your first Olympics competition was right around the corner. Despite having an empty stomach, you were quite nauseous and felt the need to throw up.

The past week in Tokyo had been miserable, to say the least. Your practices hadn't been the greatest and your coaches were getting frustrated with you. The days leading up to the Olympics had been filled with failed routines and they assumed you would be fine once you landed in Tokyo. Their assumptions were wrong, however, and you found yourself struggling to make it through a clean routine. Your hopes of getting an Olympic medal seemed to be getting slimmer and slimmer. Despite your constant mistakes, your coaches still had hope that you would end up somewhere on the podium. After all, you had never placed lower than third in any competition since you moved up to the senior level.

You had a quiet morning to yourself as you got ready for the day, which only made your nerves worse. Hundreds of thoughts and scenarios flew through your mind, countless 'what ifs?' taunting you. At breakfast, the only thing you could do was stare at your food and play around with it while your teammates happily conversed amongst one another, seemingly unbothered by the tense situation all of you were in. They spared worried glances at you, taking turns to urge you to eat and ask if you were okay. You ate a quarter of your breakfast before scurrying off to practice, avoiding the concerned glances of your teammates.

Fortunately, your body and mind cooperated with you enough to have a decent last practice. It certainly wasn't the best practice of your career but you felt significantly better than you had for the past few months. At this point, any feeling of positivity was enough to get you through the games and you were desperate enough to hold onto any optimism you could.

"Representing the Republic of Korea, Y/N, Y/L/N!"

To say you were intimidated to perform on the uneven bars after Suni Lee was an understatement. Everybody in the gymnastics community knew Suni Lee and everybody also knew that uneven bars were her strong suit. She was currently one of the best, if not the best gymnasts on uneven bars, and you were given the misfortune of competing right after her. It didn't help that uneven bars were not your forte whatsoever.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your wildly pounding heart. You stared up at the high bar above you, taunted by a simple wooden rod that you had learned to use years ago. Your uneven bars routine was something you perfected long ago yet you were still terrified. Before you could second guess yourself, you launched yourself up to the high bar with the vault, performing your routine on complete autopilot mode.

The strength it took for uneven bars was unbelievable. Trying to build your muscles to be able to rotate your body 360 degrees and throw yourself between both bars was excruciating. Your hands were covered in callouses from your hands constantly dragging across the wooden surface, a symbol of the hard work you put in for the past seventeen years. Your combinations weren't as impressive as Suni's but it was enough to put your score on par with hers. You landed on the ground perfectly, putting your hands up with a smile to indicate the end of your performance.

"Wonderful job, Y/N. That was fantastic." Your coach gave you a high-five.

You were halfway through the all-around event, with beam and floor remaining. You specialized in beam for half of your career before you came to the sudden realization that floor routines were much more exciting. Having your strongest routines during the latter half of the event allowed you to make up for any points you may have lost during vault and uneven bars.

Throughout the entirety of the event, you were competing head-to-head with Suni and Rebeca Andrade. Going into the Olympics, you knew they would be your top competition but severely underestimated their skills. You assumed at least one of the events would be their weakness but they were perfecting every one of their routines.

"This is where you have to do the best, Y/N. If you score well on your floor routine, you can place first overall because you have an advantage in your technical skills. Whether or not you leave with an Olympic title depends on your performance." Your coach squeezed your shoulders.

All she got in return was a tight smile. If there was one thing your coach was good at other than helping you improve your gymnastics skills, it was giving you advice and words of encouragement that made you feel worse than when you started. You simply gave her a nod before moving to the corner of the spring floor where you would begin your performance. Yunseo and Seojeong were dispersed on opposite corners of the floor as they insisted you needed full support on all sides. After your name was announced, you took your place on the mat with a faux smile while waiting for the music to start.

Your first skill was a Dos Santos II, which was something you had been practicing for two years. It was by far the most difficult technique you had learned and your coach was extremely hesitant in allowing you to add it to your floor routine, let alone allow you to learn it. Daiane Dos Santos was the only gymnast who had landed it in a competition and there was a reason for that. Regardless, you begged your coach to practice it and had been attempting it in the past two competitions. They had yet to be landed cleanly but you did execute the skill perfectly during countless practices. If you weren't confident in landing it in competition, you wouldn't have wanted to attempt it at the Olympics.

A Dos Santos II consisted of an Arabian double salto in a stretched position with a level H rating. Simply landing this skill would put your technical score miles ahead of your competitors and could even guarantee an Olympic title. You knew you wouldn't be happy with yourself if you left Tokyo without at least attempting it. Since it was your opening skill, you didn't have much time to mentally prepare for it. The most you could do was take deep breaths and focus on the music to keep you on time.

The Dos Santos II was over before you could process it. By the time you launched yourself into the air, you were already back on your feet ready to move onto the next part of your routine. Everything happened so quickly that you couldn't celebrate landing one of the most difficult moves in gymnastics. You could vaguely hear your coach and teammates scream in the background but their voices were muffled. The rest of your routine was filled with skills you could complete in your sleep, which left you in your ending posing before you knew it.

With a heavy sigh, your shoulders immediately slackened as you dropped your ending pose. You bowed to the audience before hopping off of the springboard where your coach and teammates were waiting.

"That was amazing, Y/N! That Dos Santos was beautiful, it was the best you ever landed it." Your coach beamed.

"I can't believe I actually landed it." You grinned, happiness overtaking you for the first time since the competition began. "It happened so quickly and it doesn't even feel like I attempted it."

Seojeong and Yunseo pulled you into a hug, forcing you to jump up and down with them. They each squealed unintelligible exclamations in your ear, rambling about the Dos Santos II and how well you performed.

"Great job, Y/Nie." Hanseok patted your head. "You have a big chance at winning gold!"

His words caused you to freeze for a split second. You whipped your head toward the screen that was displaying the current rankings before you performed. You waited with bated breath as the judges calculated your final score, taking their time as it was the final performance of the night. A slow-motion playback of your routine was on the jumbo screen and while you may sound cocky, surely you were going to score the highest with how well you performed.

"The scores please for Y/N Y/L/N."

Yunseo squealed and clung onto your shoulders with a death grip. "Oh, I'm so scared and I'm not even the one who performed."

You needed to score higher than 13.7 points to place first to make up for the points you didn't acquire during vault and uneven bars. Suni was sitting comfortably in first place with a higher chance of winning the Olympic title but your Dos Santos II was close to leaving her in second place. You were relying on your technical score to push you into first place.

"Y/N Y/L/N has received a score of 13.933 points."

It certainly wasn't your highest score but it was enough to put you in first place. The jumbo screen flashed the final ranking up on the screen with your name at the very top.

A breath you didn't know you were holding escaped from your lips as your score popped up on the screen. You scored well enough on your floor routine to put you into first place; you were returning to Korea with an Olympic medal. All of the stress that had been burdening you finally disappeared and for the first time in months, you felt like you could breathe.

"Fantastic job, Y/N! You did wonderful!" Your coach patted your shoulder and gave you a tight hug.

Your teammates came running over, tackling you into a hug that left all of you in a pile of limbs. You were at the bottom of the pile, trying to hug them back while simultaneously struggling to breathe. Jeahwan, bless his heart, took notice of you turning purple and immediately pulled your teammates off of you.

A giggle escaped your lips at your excitement as they yanked you off the ground only to pull you into another hug. The pressure you felt throughout the season slowly dissipated, leaving you in a state of bliss.

Until the individual floor event, at least.

"I think I'm gonna throw up." You mumbled, unable to suppress the nausea that was overtaking you.

Yunseo's eyes widened in alarm. "Do you need a bucket?"

"No, I'm just dramatic."

Your teammates rolled their eyes before Junho smacked the back of your head. "You need to get therapy for this, I'm so serious." He scolded.

The situation at hand felt all too familiar. You couldn��t wrap your head around the fact that you were competing again as a finalist for the floor event. There were only eight gymnasts who qualified for the final round and you placed first in the qualification round a little over a week prior. You were the last gymnast to compete in the event which left you in a puddle of nerves by the time you were warming up and preparing to perform.

Your floor routine was similar to the one you performed during the all-around individual event but your opening combination was different. You had a new skill you had been practicing for the past three years and worked hard to perfect it so you could perform it at the Olympics. You hoped it would be recognized as a new skill and be added to the Code of Points after the Olympics were over. Alongside of dreaming to be an Olympian, you also dreamed of having an official skill named after you.

"You have to lock in immediately, Y/N. Don't let your surroundings distract you or hinder you from putting on your best performance. If you land your opening skill and perform cleanly, you'll end up in first place. I guarantee it." Your coach squeezed your shoulders.

"Don't let us down, Y/N."

Quite honestly, you had been doing a good job pushing away the pressure that loomed over you since you arrived in Tokyo. After the medal ceremony for the all-around event, the initial nerves and pressure you felt disappeared since you got into the swing of things. You were even looking forward to competing but your coach's words sent you spiraling and now you were back to square one.

What did she mean by "us"? Your entire coaching team? Your teammates? Your home country was watching you in anticipation as you prepared to perform on the biggest stage in the world? She could be talking about anybody and everybody and the mere thought made you sick.

With no time to contemplate her words, you forced yourself to walk out onto the floor with a smile on your face. You waved to the audience, who seemed to be cheering louder than ever.

"Representing the Republic of Korea, Y/N Y/L/N."

You positioned yourself in the same corner you always began your routine in and took a final deep breath before waiting for your music to start. Just like always, your body went on autopilot mode as you prepared for your new skill.

You could hear your teammates and coaches screaming as you launched yourself into the air, flipping and turning before landing heavily on your feet with a loud thud. Your arms went up as you straightened yourself out, the opening skill being landed cleanly. You cruised through the rest of the performance with ease, nailing every single skill that was left as they were all ones you were familiar with.

Once you held your ending pose for a few seconds, your body dropped to the ground as your head fell into your hands. You tried to process what happened, unable to believe you cleanly landed a skill nobody else had landed, and performed the rest of your routine flawlessly. You pushed your exhausted body off of the springboard and stood up to acknowledge the audience before joining your coach and teammates.

"Holy shit, Y/N! That was absolutely insane." Sunghyun swept you off of the ground before your feet could even touch the ground from the spring board, spinning you around in a tight hug.

"Put her down, you big oaf." Seojeong smacked his beefy arm. "She just threw herself around in the air and your first instinct is to spin her around? She's going to throw up on you.

Sunghyun listened to his junior and immediately placed you on the ground with a ruffle of your hair. The rest of your teammates surrounded you, taking turns to congratulate you and gushing endlessly about your performance. Your coach barely praised you before the speakers were crackling back to life for your final score.

"Y/N Y/L/N has earned a total score of 15.566."

It wasn't the best score seen at the Olympics but it was much higher than your own personal record. Your mouth fell open as the numbers flashed onto the jumbo screen, unable to believe what your eyes were reading. Your vision was obscured by a body throwing itself against you as you were pulled into a hug for the umpteenth time. You lost count of how many times you were squeezed in a hug but knowing you had a wonderful support system warmed your heart. The past few weeks in Tokyo had been nothing short of grueling so you were thankful that your teammates did whatever they could to support you despite having to focus on their own events.

There was a half-hour break before the medal ceremony and every single second was filled with interviews and photos. You never had so many cameras and microphones shoved into your face in your entire life which made winning an Olympic title more overwhelming. You couldn't process what was happening but the more questions you were asked about how you felt, the bigger the pit in your stomach became.

Before you knew it, you were preparing for the medal ceremony. As the lights in the stadium dimmed, a familiar sense of dread washed over you. You gulped nervously and fiddled around with your fingers while watching members of the Olympic committee set up for the ceremony. You felt the same sickness in your stomach during the medal ceremony for the all-around individual event but chalked it off as being exhausted from practicing extensively. You hoped you would be excited for the floor medal ceremony since you won a medal for your specialty but you were feeling even worse than you did a week ago.

"And the Olympic gold medalist from the Republic of Korea, Y/N Y/L/N!"

Straightening your back with a deep breath, a smile forced its way onto your face as you waved to the cheering crowd. Before you stepped onto the podium, you bowed to the audience and hugged Jade Carey and Rebecca Ferrari, who were the silver and bronze medalists.

You nervously eyed the president of the International Gymnastics Federation as she walked over to you with a big smile on your face. She shook your head before placing the gold medal around your neck, congratulating you for your stellar performance. It felt wrong to accept the medal from her when all you wanted to do was rip it off of your neck and give it to Jade instead.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the 2020 Olympic floor medalists!"

The sight of the Korean flag being raised amidst the American and Italian flags was a sight you never thought you would dread to see. Winning an Olympic title was your dream but at one point did it stop? When did you start hating the sport you dedicated your entire life to?

As you stood on the podium with your hand on your chest as the Korean national anthem heard distantly in your ears, you realized that gymnastics was no longer your passion. The gold medal hanging around your neck felt heavy and it felt as if it tied you to a stone to leave you dropping into the middle of the ocean. Your ears were ringing and your head was spinning, your heart started to beat faster from the overwhelming sensation of being in an undeserving position.

Who were you to claim the Olympic gold medal when you no longer cared for gymnastics? The girls next to you worked equally as hard, perhaps even harder to become an Olympic champion and here you were, preparing to draft your retirement statement rather after returning home. You spent almost the entirety of your life working to make it to the Olympics but with the Olympic title finally in the palm of your hand, you felt nothing short of empty.

Even as you were hugged by your teammates and coaches after the Olympic medal ceremony, you felt empty. A fake smile was pasted on your face during every interview and press conference to hide your conflicted feelings. What would the public say if there was even the slightest hint of displeasure on your face? You would be painted as an ungrateful, undeserving Olympic champion; the last thing you needed was your name dragged through the mud. Millions of people in South Korea rooted, supported, and cheered for you ever since you began to make a name for yourself within the last few years. You were obligated to show your appreciation even if it ate away at you inside.

"You're an Olympic champion again, unnie!" Seojeong squealed, holding your hands as she jumped up and down.

You jumped up and down with her, trying to share her excitement as she rambled about how the two of you would be going home with Olympic medals, a life long dream finally accomplished.

"I'm so happy!" You smiled, squeezing her hands gently. "And I'm so proud of you, Seojeongie. You did amazing."

She smiled, pouting before pulling you into a hug. "I'm proud of you too, unnie. So proud. I know the past couple of years haven't been easy on you but you did amazing. I'm happy and honored that I get to call you my teammate."

Your coach gave you a hug next, swaying you from side to side as she held you tightly. She then pulled away, smiling tearfully at you which shocked you. In the six years you had been training with her, she never once shed a single tear. You didn't know she was capable of showing any emotion beyond stoicism but she had been shocking you constantly since arriving in Tokyo.

"Coach, are you crying?" A bewildered expression broke out on your face as your coach let out a sob.

"Oh my Y/Nie, I can't believe you're a two-time Olympic champion." She wiped the tears off of her face, fanning her face to compose herself. "I know the past few years have been extremely difficult for you but you've done well. I'm so proud of you and there's nobody more deserving to win that title than you."

Guilt once again overtook you, seizing you by the neck with a tight grip. You exhaled deeply in a poor attempt to get your feelings back in check, worried that she would notice your distressed state. You hugged her back with a laugh to mask how you were truly feeling about your Olympic title.

The endless praises and congratulations were only making you feel worse about the entire situation. You weren't sure what was wrong with you and you absolutely hated how you felt but you couldn't shake off the guilt that came with the medal. It felt heavier and heavier by the second.

You were able to walk away from the Olympics with two gold medals but at what cost?

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#bts x reader #bts fic #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts ot7 x reader #bts ot7 fic

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akutasoda · 2 months

Note

Can I request Sunday with Noelle reader?

Reader will guide every guest and tell them everything she knew in Penacony, since her job is tour guide.

But in reality, she want to be a knight in Xianzhou Luofu but failed every test dispite she work so hard on it.

Reader is from Luofu, but travel abroad to study life more and try to gain some experiences.

Sorry if my request is weird…

atleast someone believes in me

synopsis - after rejection from the cloud knights you seek a change of pace but there's someone who sees your potential

includes - sunday

warnings - gn!reader, reader is based on noelle, reader is from the xianzhou, fluff, slight angst, rejection?, wc - 1.6k

a/n: your request isn't weird at all!

taglist - @teddirika

failure hits hard for most people, especially when it's somebody's first attempt at achieving their dream. failure becomes a deterrent, planting the idea that their dreams can no longer be accomplished - which can be untrue but since they would be too focused on their failure they can no longer focus on how to improve. people who experience failure often seek comfort in settling for something easy, something that they won't fail at.

you were born and raised on the xianzhou luofu. you grew up alongside the cloud knights and would regularly watch them on patrol and sometimes would even sneak out to watch them fight a wandering mara-struck. your eager curiousity did not go unnoticed by your guardian, who managed to catch hold of somebody willing to grant you some basic training. it boosted your dedication to becoming a cloud knight and eventually you took your training into your own hands.

day in and day out, you would spend toiling over your techniques and ensuring they were perfect. you had a deadline, your birthday was soon approaching and as soon as that passed you would be allowed to join the cloud knights if you're skills passed the test. admittedly you became so wrapped up in your training that you often would forget basic needs but you were determined to become a cloud knight.

your birthday could not have come any sooner. the day after, you were straight out of bed and headed down to enlist into the cloud knights - a few people you knew had recently also enlisted and passed the tests, they told you how you would have no issue and you believed them. when you got there, they accepted your initial application and told you that if you passed the physical trials you would be welcomed into the cloud knights. all those nights, days and evenings had lead up to this very moment. the moment where all your training was meant to pay off and help you achieve your dreams. was... was meant to.

you don't know why or how but you were denied, you were told you're skills just weren't what they were looking for but nothing more. rejection hit you immediately. it tore out your dreams and replaced them with a sense of hopelessness - how could you spend so much of your life dedicated to becoming a cloud knight just to be rejected, surely that meant you couldn't achieve anything right? you returned home with dry tear streaks that were soon replaced when you shut the door.

some may say you overreacted but the rejection really hit you hard. you felt ashamed to still be living on the luofu and desperately searched for elsewhere, you needed a fresh start is what you told yourself. brief words had been overheard about a world called penacony, where dreams can come true. even though your dream was to become a cloud knight, you doubted that could become true and so maybe you could settle for something simpler.

you gathered what little money you had and left for penacony in shame. when you arrived you immediately inquired with the hotel lobby staff about any potential jobs that could be gifted to you - you made sure to specify that they could be anything. one of the workers left for a brief moment before returning and telling you that there was a few jobs available inside the dreamscape. you didn't really care what the job was you just wanted something to distract you from the pain of your rejection from the cloud knights.

unfortunately the only job available was a tour guide. you weren't native to penacony and this was infact your first time even in penacony but it seemed like an opportunity, you could bury yourself in mounds of research into penacony to become a tour guide and not think about the cloud knights. after a long time with bargaining with various officials, you managed to land a job as a tour guide - the only thing you had to do was research all of the dreamscape before your first ever shift.

your habit for hard work had led you to spend hours upon hours staring at the maps of penacony and its dreamscape, reading all of it's history and eventually becoming acquainted with some locals who told you some tips. on your very first shift, you were paired with a young silver haired girl who introduced herself as firefly, she was a fellow tour guide and offered to oversee your first shift to make sure you were good to go. she was a sweet young girl and even complimented your knowledge of penacony even as a newcomer to the land of dreams.

due to your extensive studies, you becane extremely well versed in the knowledge of penacony and it's history. very quickly, more and more newcomers would request your tours as word spread very quickly about your tours. this time as a tour guide served well in gaining experiences and opportunities to learn something new, those that took your tours often would become very chatty. you met all kinds of people from all other the galaxy, except they all had similar reasons for turning to penacony.

you still thought about the cloud knights from time to time. you'd watch the bloodhounds from time to time and they vaguely reminded you of the knights, not by much but enough to drag up unpleasant memories. sometimes you did wonder that if you trained a little bit harder you could retake the test and become a cloud knight - however the idea of failing again would only put a greater shame on you and you didn't want that.

the dreamscape become a comfort to you, the job as a tour guide was alot more fun than anticipated and you enjoyed meeting people from all walks of life. unfortunately, you had now spent a long time in the dreamscape and started seeing the truth beyond golden hours flashing lights and slot machines. one of your tours had been ended abruptly when the person you were helping around slipped into a deeper pocket of the dream - you soon followed just in time.

you were met with familiar yet unfamiliar scenery but what quickly caught your attention was you're tourist being attacked by some kind of walking television and robotic dog. you didn't really think about your actions and instead opted to charge straight ahead to protect the tourist. out of pure habit, you still carried some kind of weapon from your cloud knight training days and it finally payed off - you made quick work of the weird figures and made sure to check on your tourist before looking for a way out.

you wandered the distorted halls with your guest, always keeping them out of harms way but it seemed your saviour came in the form if a certain silver haired halovian. sunday had heard about a tour guide and their tourist being captured into a deeper pocket of the dreamscape, and because it was a more dangerous zone filled with all sorts of memes he figured it would be best if he went himself - it would also help to silence the wanderers.

what sunday wasn't expecting was a trail of dead meme's which eventually lead him to you and your tourist. he was rather impressed a tour guide such as yourself was so capable with a weapon. he made quick work of escorting the two of you into golden hour and sorted out the toruist before turning to you, 'you appear to be quite well versed in combat for a tour guide' he started.

before you had a chance to answer he continued, 'your skills would befit the bloodhounds more no?' you simply shook your head and replied 'my skills are merely acts of self defense nothing more'. sunday frowned slightly before taking a quick glance around golden hour, he turned back to you with a proposition

'it may be optimistic of me but could i offer you some more work? payed of course.' you knew what he was getting at and you sighed before responding

'with all due respect mr.sunday, i don't have an interest in attempting a carer for fighting' you looked down slightly to avoid his gaze which seemed practically suffocating.

'that's a shame then, a tour guide with your skills could be effective in helping those curious enough to get lost in the corrupt parts of the dreamscape', he smiled before continuing

'it shall still be an offer if you wish to accept, but for now may i extend my personal thank you for keeping a paying visitor safe'

sunday's offer really toiled with you for a while. the cloud knights back on the luofu rejected your skills but now somebody was praising them - you felt more inclined to believe the cloud knights. but maybe this was what you needed, it was a fresh start and you were being offered it so sunday wouldn't turn you down right? it would appear not as when you showed up at his office he seemed like he had been expecting you because truth be told, sunday was enamored by your willingness to help those you do and more importantly you're skills in combat.

he had read your employee file, it had all your basic information and when he found out you originated from the xianzhou, he couldn't help but wonder why the cloud knights hadn't scouted out your exceptional skills. however, if they weren't going to help you utilise your skills, he would.

#—stellaronhvnters.#x reader #x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr sunday #honkai star rail sunday #sunday x reader

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 9 months

Text

TAKE CARE OF YOU [8B]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 11,971

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: it's here, holy moly. I'm glad I split it up otherwise this would've been a 23k word chapter 😂 love all of you for reading though and double love the beautiful souls who leave me words of kindness!]

Chapter Specific Warning: masturbation (F), reader is a thirsty bitch (which like is totally fair considering Joel Miller is 🥵), fluff and my usual attempt at humor, angst (but like the 'please trust me as the writer babes' kind)

08: YOU'RE JOEL MILLER'S SUGAR BABY!

"in the mess of feelings, focus on what is important, what brings peace to your soul, and let all the rest go." -all is not lost

The room was sweltering. You were damp with sweat. It’s the first thing you notice when you slowly begin to awaken. The second thing you notice is the strong arm resting around your waist and the firm chest at your back. Your groggy sleep heavy mind reminds you that Joel and you had gone to bed not too long after you iced his hand for him. Granted, being tangled in his limbs was a new thing.

You took a deep breath and settled against him. Everything about this moment screamed comfort. The soft morning sunlight streaming through the window, the warmth radiating from Joel’s embrace, his soft breaths fanning against the back of your neck. You could spend eternity in his arms.

Your squirming hadn’t woken Joel, but his sleeping form shifted to match yours. Any leftover drowsiness you had vanished when you felt something firm press against your ass. It took you a beat to recognize what was pressing into you because there was no way it was what you thought it was. Joel gave off ‘big dick’ energy without a doubt, but this was significant enough that you had to be mistaken. You squirmed once more and Joel’s arm tightened around you, pulling you in closer, and there was no mistaking it now. The hard bulge pushing perfectly against you was his cock. Holy fuck. When Joel had said he was a ‘big man’ yesterday you thought it just meant his broad shoulders.

Joel let out a soft sigh, a content mumble, and in a panic you let your body go limp and closed your eyes once more. Seconds later, you felt Joel stiffen behind you⏤ sucking in a sharp breath through his nose. You kept your own breathing even and smooth as Joel stayed completely still. Finally, he slowly pulled his hips back, trying not to shift the mattress, and untangled his arm from you. You rolled over and continued to feign sleep.

“Jesus Christ.” Joel mumbled softly. You heard his soft steps padding across the room behind you, and you didn’t move until the bathroom door shut.

You rolled onto your back then and lifted your hands to cover your face.

Idiot, idiot, idiot. You chastised yourself. There was an ache in your core that you only had yourself to blame for. All these missed opportunities. You went to bed last night without kissing Joel. You woke up this morning and pretended to still be sleeping when Joel’s dick was literally pressed against your ass. The sound of the shower kicked on and your mind involuntarily conjured an image of Joel under a spray of hot water. The urge to slip your hand under your waistband and touch yourself was growing more and more overwhelming by the second.

After a glance to the door, your need shoved common sense to the back of your brain, trampling over it to get in control, and your hand slipped into your pants. This had to be fast and the absolute dripping desire you found told you that wouldn’t be tough to manage. You dragged your middle and ring finger up your wet lips to the apex where you let it curl around your clit in circular motions a few times. Your breath hitched and you pushed your fingers back down through your wetness to sink into yourself. With the memory of his cock pressed against you and his hot breath on your neck, you were already dangerously close to snapping. The pace you found with yourself was fast rather than the languid way you usually would pleasure yourself, and you let the heel of your palm grind against your clit. It was startling how quick and hard you came at your own hand with the image of Joel’s broad shoulders and rough hands in the forefront of your mind. The beginnings of a cry accidentally slipped from your lips and you bit down on the inside of your cheek to shut yourself up. Your hand lingered against yourself as you caught your breath and let the waves of pleasure ebb and flow over you.

The shower squeaked off and you sat up breathless, hand yanked out of your shorts. You could hear Joel moving around the bathroom and you struggled to calm your racing heart. As you shifted in place, trying to piece yourself back together, the feel of your now soaked panties was made more apparent and the back of your neck burned with a new warmth. You sent a silent prayer up to whatever deity may be listening that there wouldn’t be a noticeable damp spot on your sleep shorts when you stood.

Much sooner than you thought, the bathroom door opened and your spine stiffened to sit straight up with your hands resting in your lap. Joel stepped out, hair damp and slicked back, with a towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes landed on yours and widened, “Hey. Hey.” Joel cleared his throat and his hand fell to readjust the towel on his waist. “You’re awake.”

“Mhmm.” You hummed with a tight lipped smile. Joel stood in the doorway like a deer in the headlights and you felt a weird awkward tension. There was no way Joel heard you. Not over the sound of the shower. Plus, you were mostly quiet. The tension must be coming from somewhere else. You pointed your hand out toward him with a nod, “So, I didn’t kick you last night, right?”

Joel’s face cracked into an amused smile and he chuckled, “Not a bit. I’m impressed.” Joel came further into the room and nodded back toward the bathroom. “You need it? I can change out here.”

“Yes. Yes, please.” You slid out of the bed and tugged the edge of your shirt down a bit⏤ not that it helped in covering your shorts. Joel’s eyes trailed up your legs to meet your gaze and you tried not to feel self conscious in your morning state. Between the bed head and the state of your underwear, you felt like a spotlight was shining down on you.

Without pausing, you made a beeline to the bathroom. Before you got too far past Joel he caught you by the elbow and pulled you a bit closer. Your face burned warm under Joel’s stare. It was soft and warm, but underneath that was a hunger in his eyes that you were positive would remain burned into your memory forever⏤ haunting every dream you had of him. The corner of Joel’s lips twitched up. “I gotta say it proper.” He pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger and traced the bottom curve of your lip. “Good mornin', sugar.”

“Uh, yeah.” You mumbled in a daze. Joel raised an eyebrow at you skeptically, and you shook your head with a small laugh. “I mean, good morning, daddy.”

“Good girl.” Joel approved. As if you hadn’t just touched yourself at the thought of him, you felt a new ache between your legs demanding attention. He tapped his fingers under your chin once and pulled away. “Go on. I wanna spend as much time with ya as I can 'fore I’m dragged away for work.”

You smirked and scrounged up every ounce of bold bravery you had in your body to reach out and set a hand on his bare chest. Joel sucked in a sharp breath and the look of hunger burned so hot you could’ve sworn you literally felt the heat on your skin. “You could always play hooky with me.”

“As temptin' as that is,” Joel cleared his throat and rested his hand on top of yours, allowing his thumb to rub against the back of your hand, “Tess'd literally castrate me if I skipped anythin' today.”

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” You teased before you even considered the words. Joel raised his eyebrows with a slight tilt of his head and your eyes widened at your own words. “I, uh, I mean,” You used your other hand to point to the suitcase, “I should… I need to get ready so we can… yupp.”

Joel squeezed your hand then lifted it up off your chest to press a soft kiss against the palm of your hand. At the simple touch, your entire body relaxed and you thanked that same deity you prayed to moments before that the hand you settled on his chest hadn't been the one you pleasured yourself with.

A part of you wondered if you were going to melt into a puddle right here and now. He nodded his head toward the bathroom with a small smile and let go of your hand. Your first step away from him was more or less a stumble. Joel chuckled and you scrambled to grab a swimsuit and cover from the suitcase before rushing away to compose yourself behind closed doors and out of view of those tempting, hungry eyes.

When you stepped out of the bathroom twenty or so minutes later, dressed for a casual day by the pool, you were met with quite the sight. Joel was in the process of putting on his watch, but his outfit was what caught your eye. Joel was going golfing apparently. He had on a pair of khaki slacks with an olive collared, short sleeve shirt tucked into it. The shirt was just tight enough to stretch across his broad shoulders and the sleeves clung tightly to his thick arms. A pair of sunglasses were hanging from his open collar.

“Hello, Tiger Woods.” You said appreciatively.

Joel glanced over briefly before doing a double take. His own eyes traced slowly down your form before confidently meeting your eyes once more. He chuckled, “Tiger Woods?”

“It’s the only golfer I know off the top of my head.” You replied and closed the space so you could reach out and run a hand down his arm. Joel’s eyes followed your hands' movements. “I like this look on you. Very preppy.” Joel’s gaze snapped to yours and he raised an eyebrow in question. You grinned impishly, “Golf Daddy.”

Joel laughed in amusement and shook his head. You looked around him to see his wallet was resting on the dresser by a black baseball cap. You frowned, “Are you gonna wear a hat?”

“Was gonna. Why?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen you in a hat before.” You shrugged. It just seemed a damn shame to hide Joel’s fluffy hair. Every time you saw him, you craved to drag your fingers through it. Not even in lust either. You just wanted to play with his wild slightly curled locks that seemed to have a mind of their own regardless of how Joel tried to shape it. Not to say you weren’t thirsty for this man. You also wanted to tug on his hair as he buried his tongue between your legs. The sudden and intrusive thought had a pang of desire cut through you. Jesus, at this rate you’d have to throw yourself into the pool head first just to cool off a bit. “Lemme see.”

Joel appeased your request and picked up the hat with an over exaggerated sigh⏤ as if you were asking him to carry the world. He pulled the cap on and tilted his head at you in question. Still doing whatever they seemed to want, his hair stuck out around the edges of the hat in half curls that you wanted to twist around your finger. “Well, sugar?”

“Okay. I guess I approve.” You grinned.

“Glad to hear it.” Joel reached out and set a hand on your waist to tug you a bit closer. “Ya know, I got a stetson at home. Does that meet your criteria or do I gotta get rid of it?”

You recognized the word and your eyes widened at the thought of Joel wearing an actual cowboy hat, “No, you don’t. You’re joking.”

“I’m from Texas.” He countered.

It was pathetic and sad the lengths you would go to see Joel Miller in a cowboy hat. The thought of Joel Miller in nothing but the cowboy hat flickered through your thoughts and you took in a slow breath. Fuck. Never mind throwing yourself in head first, you’d have to drown yourself in the pool to get these thoughts out of there. You cleared your throat, “I will allow it.”

“Really? Don't even gotta try it on for you or nothin'?”

“Well,” You shrugged, “I wouldn’t be opposed to a… a viewing.”

Joel chuckled and tapped his hand against your waist a couple times before grabbing his wallet and sticking it in his back pocket. He motioned for you to follow him. “C'mon.” You grabbed your phone and hurried after him. “You’re usin' up all our breakfast time droolin' over me.”

“I am not drooling over you!” You gave him a light push.

“Don’t worry.” Joel paused as you both neared the door and before you knew it his arm was wrapped around your waist to tug you into his side. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You got me all hot an' bothered too, sugar.”

Flustered and giddy, Joel whisked you away for breakfast.

The two of you ended up at the same little cafe as yesterday, but this time they were serving breakfast dishes rather than the more broad brunch option. Joel had apologized profusely for taking you to the same place since he didn’t have time to take you out of the resort to eat somewhere else. You found the whole situation hilarious because never in a million years would you have even thought to complain or be bothered by it. Hell, you didn't pay it a single thought until Joel brought it up.

“Can I ask for a favor?” Joel suddenly asked as the two of you left the cafe. Your eyes widened to a degree that you were sure was comical. All the time you spent with him, and he never asked you for a favor of any kind. Joel never requested anything. You were actually happy to hear him ask because you wanted to give him more.

“Anything, Joel.”

Joel chuckled but quickly cleared his throat. There was a look of anxiety written across his features, but when he spoke his voice still stayed strong and firm. “Stay in the Wynn today.” Despite broaching the topic as ‘asking for a favor’ there was a finality to his word that left no room for argument. “I’ll walk ya to the Wynn pool, I reserved a cabana there for you too, an' when you’re done just stay on campus.”

It wouldn’t be a difficulty. It wasn’t like you were being restricted to Guantanamo Bay⏤ this was the Wynn Resort in Vegas. There would be plenty to keep you occupied. You hesitated to respond to him though simply because you couldn’t puzzle out Joel’s expression. It wasn’t a difficult request, and yet Joel still had that nervous energy burning in his dark eyes. Almost as if he expected you to rebel against his request.

“Can I ask why?” Literally, there was nothing out of this building that interested you exploring as a solo errand, you came for Joel, but you were curious nonetheless.

“I hate the idea of leavin' you all alone.” Joel sighed. He readjusted the baseball cap on his head with a frown. “I really did try an' get outta this golf game, but Tess wouldn’ bite. Even Tommy was bitchin’ 'bout it.” He grumbled the last words with a tinge of annoyance.

You shook your head with a laugh and touched his arm. “Joel, it’s fine. I’m a big girl. I can find something to occupy my time until later today.”

“I know, but I brought you here to show you a good time, sugar.”

“You’re working. This is your job.” You tried to reassure him. Joel didn’t seem appeased, but he squeezed your hand and pulled you through the lobby. You leaned into his side with a smirk. “Besides, if you don’t go to work, how are you going to be able to afford to take care of me?” Joel’s face stretched out into a wide smile. His dimple was ever present and you couldn’t help but lift your free hand to poke him lightly in the cheek right over it making him chuckle. “I’m a needy girl.”

“You’re somethin' alright.”

“Something good?”

Joel rolled his eyes at your teasing smile and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it. “Somethin' absolutely incredible.”

Your cheeks warmed pleasantly at his words. Joel was so charming and forthcoming with his compliments, yet every single time he spoke your heart would flutter. You never tired of his words of praise, and it was probably because they were always said with so much sincerity and warmth.

Joel was walking you to the pool, you knew that, but you were surprised when he walked out of the building with you and into the pool area. He scooped up a couple towels when you passed the stand and then he led you to a cute, little cabana. It was close to the water so you wouldn’t have to travel far, but it looked like it sat on a more secluded side of the pool.

“Tonight, we have the work dinner, but afterwards we can go out.” Joel reassured in a firm tone. He had already told you about the dinner. It’d be a collection of other heads of companies and Joel warned you it would be dry and boring. “I promise.”

“I’m looking forward to dinner tonight.” You said and it wasn’t even a lie. He gave you a dry look. You shook your head and cupped his hand with both of yours to squeeze his. “I am!” You shrugged a bit in mild embarrassment as you admitted the truth. “I always look forward to spending time with you, Joel. No matter what we end up doing.”

Joel’s gaze softened, and you pressed your lips together and shrugged again not knowing what else to do. He chuckled and leaned forward until his lips found the skin right under your hairline. Joel lingered there and your eyes fluttered close as you took in a deep breath of him. The second he pulled away you were already missing his touch.

“I got my phone on me. You need anythin' at all, sugar, I’m one call away.”

You nodded and Joel lingered for a moment longer before making his leave. As you sat down on the chair outside the cabana, the towels he grabbed in your lap, you watched him go⏤ eyes raking up and down his frame unabashedly. When Joel reached the doors that would take him out of sight, he surprised you by turning around to give you one more glance. His gaze met yours and you spotted his smirk at the realization that you had been watching him go. You couldn't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. Joel winked before slipping away and you flopped back onto the chair with a soft sigh.

God, you had it bad for that man.

You had come to Vegas for Joel, but you had to admit it was kind of nice to have some alone time. It had been a long time since you had sat by a pool and just soaked in the sun. Maybe a year ago now? Nathan and you had taken a trip to the beach one weekend. It wasn’t a bad trip. Hell, it was possibly one of the last times you were really happy with him. But, it was a far cry from where you were now. Sitting in one of the lounge chairs in the shallow end of the pool with a book in one hand and a drink in the other⏤ not a care in the world. That was the difference. Unlike the last time you sat by a pool, you weren’t thinking about work or rent or bills. You just enjoyed yourself.

“Hi, is this seat taken?”

You looked up from your book to see a woman pointing to the chair next to you. She was gorgeous with a white one piece that complimented her curves and her light brown skin tone. The woman wore a large sun hat with her black hair tied off in two braids.

“Oh, no. Go ahead⏤”

“Oh my god!” She chirped suddenly and you jumped in surprise at the squeal. She settled on the lounge chair but sat on the side of it so she could face you. “You’re that woman!”

You nodded blankly, “I am a woman, yes.”

She laughed and waved her hand. “My bad. Guess I should’ve been more clear. You’re Joel Miller’s sugar baby!” Your eyes widened and you just stared at her in shock. She paused in thought then snapped her fingers and said your name. This time your jaw dropped as the shock doubled. “You are her, right?”

“That…is me.” You replied slowly. You set your book and drink down on the side table and turned on the chair with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

“I go by Yo-yo.”

You pressed your lips together and glanced back at your drink. You only had the one pina colada so far, but it sure as hell felt you were wasted. What was going on? While you tried to puzzle out if you were having a stroke or not, Yo-yo settled in her chair and pulled a bit of sunscreen out of the bag she had set on her own side table.

“Yo-yo?” You questioned skeptically.

She glanced your way and rolled her eyes, “It’s a ridiculous name, right? I wasn’t about to use my real name. Plus, my sugar daddy liked it. You do what you gotta to get that bank.” She winked at you. “Am I right, or am I right?”

“I have so many questions.” You mumbled.

“Hm?”

“How do you know my name?”

“You're with Joel Miller. It's always a big deal. I mean, handsome bachelor, filthy rich, and that sexy accent and voice? Ugh.” Yo-yo groaned. “I am so jealous. My daddy is CEO of Simmons Construction. Very rich, but he’s 62 and it shows.” She finished rubbing sunscreen on her front and held the bottle out towards you with a sheepish smile. “Can I bother you with getting my back?”

You took the sunscreen and stood to rub it into her back like she asked. While doing so, you asked, “I know there’s this supposed ‘sugar baby’ network, but I’m not seriously this infamous am I? For you to know my name?”

“Normally, no.” You finished her back and she turned back around. You handed her the bottle. “But, not only did you nab the sexiest Texan to ever exist, but you also pissed off Rosalind Turby.” She laughed and you winced. Yo-yo shook her hand at you. “No, no! I’m not criticizing. I’m honestly impressed. Rosalind is such a cunt.”

Your eyes widened. “That woman is becoming a bigger part of my life than I thought she would.”

“Oh, if you stay in this game, baby, she’s your new god.”

“She’s that important?”

“Rosalind is Queen Sugar Baby.” Yo-yo rolled her eyes and pulled on a pair of sunglasses. “She’s been running this game for ages, and she’s very serious about her girls being the perfect ‘baby’. And if you’re not then she makes your life hell.”

You scoffed, “So, I pissed her off by not being a ‘perfect’ sugar baby?”

“No,” Yo-yo held up a finger to you, “You pissed her off because you took what she wanted.”

“Joel?” You cried. The woman had come to your bakery for her shot of him, yes, but you didn’t think she’d hate you enough to make you infamous around the community. “Seriously?”

Yo-yo pulled her glasses down the bridge of your nose to shoot you a wide grin and wink, “Can you blame her? God, Joel Miller has a face that was made to be ridden.” The weather was close to 100 degrees, you were cooking, yet still her words brought a whole new level of heat to your face. She pulled her sunglasses back up and moaned. “Girl, you have to tell me how good he is. There is not way he's anything less than fucking fantastic.”

The memory of his devastatingly large cock pressed firmly against your ass this morning made your breath hitch. Yo-yo continued to stare at you, as if waiting for you to elaborate on the dick you had yet to see, and you steered the conversation away. “So, do I need to worry about Rosalind showing up at my house with a meat cleaver?”

Yo-yo laughed, “Don’t worry about it. You’re not the only one on her shit list. She hates me too, and I’m not dead yet.”

“You too?” You asked. “Did you steal Simmons’ CEO from her?”

“Ugh, nobody wants that man. He’s basically satan. I’m doing the world a favor by keeping him away from other women.” She laughed. “No, no, she hates me because I technically ‘scam’ my daddies. Fucking ridiculous if you ask me.” She put the word in air quotations. “But, why shouldn’t I trick them? You can’t trust these men. They’re all just old pervs looking to wet their dicks.”

“Not all of them.” You said firmly. That wasn’t Joel. Yes, he was technically a sugar daddy, but that wasn’t what your relationship with him was.

Yo-yo held her hands up in mock surrender. She sat up and threw her legs over the side to face you once more. “Listen, you gotta look out for yourself. It’s easy to get lost in the relationship, especially if you’re actually attracted to the guy, but after a few daddies you realize they’re using you. So, why not use them? For example, Simmons buys me a lot of really nice things, but I don’t keep it all.” She smirked. “I sell it on the side. It’s barely even a scam considering he’s buying the stuff for me to have. That means I can do whatever I want with it. Daddies don’t like the idea of a baby saving up money for themselves though and Rosalind has a stick up her ass about it. But, hey, I got a nice little nest egg saved up for when Simmons decides 25 is too old for him and wants a younger girl.” She shrugged. “You should consider it. Purses and dresses and jewelry are all nice, but they won’t last.”

You twisted your lips at her words. Honestly, you thought what she was doing was smart. The situations between you were different though. Right? Joel cared about you. He wanted to take care of you. A sinking feeling filled your belly. Yo-yo suggested planning for the future, and realistically speaking… Did you even have a future with Joel? You were planning on initiating something, giving into the temptation that was Joel, but where would something like this go? You felt like there was real chemistry between the two of you, but that hardly meant he wanted you around forever.

“How…” You shook your head and hoped the negative thoughts would loosen and fall away. There was another question you had for her. “How were you so sure I was Joel’s sugar baby. He could've brought anyone with him.”

Yo-yo waved over a waitress. “Easy. We’re in Vegas for the same reason. To be shown off.” You furrowed your brow and she shot you a curious look. “You’re coming to the dinner tonight, right? With all the contracting bigwigs?”

“I…am.” You nodded.

“Good. I know the other two sugar babies that’ll be there and they take this ‘getting shown off by their daddy’ thing so seriously. It’ll be nice to have someone normal to talk to.” Yo-yo replied as the waitress reached you. “Yes, I’ll take a mai tai. You want anything? It’s on my daddy.” She smirked and wiggled a gold credit card in her hand.

“Sure, I’ll… take the same.”

Yo-yo continued speaking to the waitress and you settled back in your lounge chair. You and Joel were different. He didn’t bring you to Vegas to show you off. He brought you here to spend time with you. Granted, there was no reason he couldn’t do both. You shook your head. No, Joel’s intentions were pure. He took care of you, defended you, and he never once pressured you into anything you were uncomfortable with. Joel had given you no reason to doubt him.

“Joel didn’t bring me to show me off.” You said firmly once the waitress left. You wanted to defend him. Joel wasn’t like the guy she was with right now.

Yo-yo frowned and waved her hand at you. “I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to upset you, I swear. I don’t even know the man and obviously you do. Maybe he is the unicorn of sugar daddies. Caring and kind and genuine. Hell, I hope he is.”

“What we have is…” You almost said the word ‘real’, but you worried Yo-yo really would think you were just some doe-eyed, naive fool. “It’s different. I’ve never done this before, and neither has he, so we’re learning together. Just having fun and… What?” You noticed Yo-yo was giving you a look that could only be described as pity. “What? What is it?”

“Joel Miller has had a sugar baby before.”

You felt a chill run down your spine as you stared at her in dumbstruck shock. One of the things that put you at ease about this relationship was the fact that he was just as new to this as you were. The two of you sat in an awkward silence as the world continued on around you.

“Did he tell you that you were his first?” Yo-yo asked.

“No. Rosalind did.”

She nodded. “That makes sense. Rumor says the girl with Joel Miller was like us. Rosalind didn’t consider her legit.” You opened your mouth, but Yo-yo seemed to read your mind. “I don’t know much else. The only reason I know she exists is because when I was talking to a friend of mine about Rosalind's temper tantrum over you she mentioned this wasn't the first time Queen B lost her shit over Joel Miller.”

“That’s okay.” You mumbled.

Yo-you gave you a sheepish smile, “Hey, at least it wasn’t him who lied to you. That’s a good sign, right?”

Right. Joel never lied to you. But, it bothered you that he never mentioned it to you. Both of you discussed past relationships and he never brought up the fact that he had a sugar baby before you. In fact, the way he talked about how he was ‘lovingly bullied’ into this, and went on dates with other babies that didn’t go well, almost implied to you that you were his first. Yo-yo changed the subject, trying to cheer you up, and eventually the waitress returned with your drinks. You smiled and nodded when necessary in the conversation, but a part of your focus was still stuck on this news.

A doubt had been planted, and like a weed it’s roots crept deeper and deeper until it was anchored in place.

Yo-yo was fun. You liked her. In fact, you wished she didn’t live in Seattle because you would love to introduce her to Nima. They’d get along well. To a degree that was arguably dangerous to the LA region, but fun nonetheless.

You spent the entire afternoon with her and even got lunch with her when the sun became much too exhausting to bear for another second. She recommended a place on the strip that was renowned, but you stuck with your promise to Joel and asked if the two of you could stay in the Wynn. She wasn’t condescending or judgemental when you explained why. She actually agreed happily.

Overall, your day had been fun. The only issue being the lingering doubts about Joel. He texted you throughout the day. Little comments here and there either mocking the men he was with or asking how you were doing. Every sweet text reminded you of what Yo-yo said and then you felt sick with guilt over having anxiety about him to begin with. It was why you were dressed in your pajamas lying on your back in bed staring at the ceiling with your phone resting by your head.

“Listen,” Nima spoke through facetime, “You say the word, and I will use all my miles to fly out there right now and kick his ass for you.”

“Joel didn’t do anything wrong. He never lied to me. Rosalind did, technically.”

“He didn’t lie, but he also didn’t tell the truth.”

You shook your head, “He didn’t owe me that truth.” This was oddly working for you. Nima defended you while you defended Joel. Unorthodox, but that was kind of your life right now anyways. “Joel said he’d never lie to me and he hasn’t. That’s what matters.”

“Do you know any more about this other sugar baby? The one before you?”

You frowned at the phrasing and reminded yourself of the same things you were telling Nima now. Joel never owed you anything. There was no need for him to bring up the information, and you had never asked. You just assumed Rosalind was telling the truth and that was your first mistake.

“No.” You said. “Just that there was one, and Roaslind didn’t like her.”

“Okay, but at this point, have we met anyone that Rosalind does like?”

You shrugged, “Joel?” Nima laughed through the phone and your lips curled up at the sound. “Thanks for this, Nima.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” She said. You rolled over and picked up the phone to look at her. She was still in her office at work, but since it was already after five you assumed she’d be going home soon. “You can thank me after I beat the man senseless with a baseball bat.”

You shook your head, “He’s literally the boss of your boss, and you think kicking his ass is a good idea? It’s gonna be hard to keep your job after that, and I’m sure the letter of recommendation they gave you wouldn’t be all that grand.”

“Are you kidding?” Nima smirked at you confidently. “When you’re as good as I am at what you do then kicking your boss’ ass is absolutely an option. I get job offers on a weekly basis.”

“You’re such a badass.” You chuckled.

“I know.” Nima beamed. The sound of her office door opening made you pause and Nima glanced up from her phone to answer the question of whoever poked their head in. You sighed and let your head fall forward to rest on the bed. Joel would be back any minute now, and you should be getting ready for dinner. Before coming, back when you had been shopping, you asked Joel what kind of settings you had to dress for and he mentioned the dinner. With his help you had picked out a dress specifically for the dinner. At the time it seemed the usual amount of cute, but now your plaguing thoughts wondered if he helped pick it out because the whole point was to just show you off. “Babe?”

You lifted your head to see Nima was staring at you in concern. You offered her a sad smile, “I just wish I could turn my dumb brain off for like two seconds.”

“Your brain is not dumb.” Nima replied. “It’s smart and beautiful and kind and loving. It’s one of my favorite brains”

Your smile turned sincere, and you shook your head at her, “What would I do without you?”

“Well, for one, you’d have to buy your own baseball bat to beat Joel with.”

“I’m not beating him with a bat.” Nima opened her mouth and you cut her off. “And I’m not letting you do it either.”

The sound of the door chiming and being opened made you say quick goodbyes to Nima who forced you to agree to text her an ‘SOS’ if you needed her skills with a blunt object. She also took the time to assure you that she had a friend in Vegas who could definitely help hide a body.

“Hey, you here?” Joel’s voice called out.

You tossed your phone back onto the bed before making your way out into the main room. Joel had showered and changed out of his golf clothes after the game. You had still been poolside at the time. Then his afternoon was filled with work. He wore a plain dark gray, bordering on black, suit with a white shirt and a pink tie of all things.

“Pink?” You motioned toward him.

Joel readjusted the tie and gave a sheepish smile, “Fathers day gift from the girls. The color is a⏤ it’s an inside joke between us.” Joel nodded toward you with a furrowed brow. “Not that I’m complainin', 'cause I like the look, but pajamas aren’t really in the dress code tonight. Need some more time?”

“I uh…” You blurted with no prepared excuse in mind.

Whatever look you wore on your face though was enough to fill Joel’s with concern. Joel closed the few feet between the two of you and cupped your face. “You feelin' alright, sugar?” One of his hands crawled up to feel your forehead. “Sick?”

“No, I’m okay.” You shook your head. “I think I was just in the sun too long today.”

“Did'ya drink 'nough water by the pool?”

“I thought so.” You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Now, I’m wondering if that last pina colada should've been an ice water.” Joel returned the smile, but there was still worry in his dark eyes. “I’m sorry, Joel. I don’t know if I can do the dinner tonight⏤”

Joel shook his head, “Hey, don’ worry yourself 'bout that. Dinner doesn’ matter.” He gently tugged you toward the couch so he could settle you on the cushions. “Do ya need me to take ya to a doctor? I’m sure I can find an urgent care 'round here that’s open, and if not the hospital is⏤”

“Joel, no.” You said firmly. “Seriously. I’m just…tired, I think. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizin'.”

You twisted your lips in guilt. Joel was paying you to keep him company and you were bailing on the main event. He was paying you. You didn’t often think those words because it left a bitter taste in your mouth. Joel brushed some hair from your face.

“Can I get ya anythin' while I’m out?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Alright.” Joel leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You got your phone?” When you told him it was in the bedroom, Joel fetched it and brought it back to you. “Call me if you start feelin' worse. I’ll be back later.”

You nodded, “Good luck at the dinner.”

Another wave of guilt washed over you as you watched the door shut behind Joel. In this kind of situation most people would probably be angry. Nima was angry. You were so conflicted that you couldn’t even be angry correctly. You flopped back on the couch and lifted your phone. A bullet point list had been made to keep your thoughts straight when you met with Joel for the first time. Maybe a pros and cons list would help you decide if you wanted to be angry, guilty, or just sad.

Pro: Joel made you happier than you’ve been in a long time.

Con: He was paying you which made you more of an employee than a friend or lover.

Pro: Not having to worry about your bills has taken such a weight off your shoulders. One you didn’t even know you were carrying.

Con: That was a lot of power to give him. If you quit your job like he wanted too then you’d really be reliant on him.

Pro: You were beginning to feel real emotions for this man, emotions you thought your ex had destroyed.

Con: If Joel didn’t share those real emotions you were going to get really hurt.

Pro: You were beginning to believe he did truly care for you.

Con: You had no idea if you were mixing that up with a man just showing interest in his sugar baby.

Pro: A part of you was starting to be okay with the sugar baby status. Relationships sometimes had really weird starts. People had met in weirder ways.

Con: If you really weren’t his first sugar baby, then the question remained. What if you were just one of many? You were young and poor and willing to let him control your life. It could just be what gets him off?

You stared at the list in front of you for another beat before mumbling a string of curses. That had somehow confused you more. This would be easier if you could detangle your feelings from this. View Joel in the same way Yo-yo views her sugar daddy. A means to an end. This even allowed you to jump his bones. You had no qualms with the idea of casual sex. It was like Nima had pointed out though, your last relationship had been serious and monogamous. Despite that, you truly believed you could handle a casual relationship. The issue was you already had feelings for the man, and you were bad at ignoring that.

It was approaching close to an hour since Joel left and you were still agonizing over your pros and cons list while Netflix played in the background, and you were half tempted to call Nima again. You only resisted because you knew if you called her again she’d take that as an invitation to meet you in Vegas ready to go to war. The sound of the door chiming startled you and you were half off the couch in panic when Joel stepped through.

“Hey, how’re you feelin'?” He asked. You stared at him blankly. In one hand he had a large brown bag and in the other a small bouquet of sunflowers in the other. “Sugar?”

“Joel!” You blurted and rose off the couch to greet him. “What’re you… The dinner! It can’t possibly be over yet.”

“Never went.” Joel set the bag on the nearby table and held the flowers out to you. “I asked the lady what flowers meant ‘feel better soon’ 'nd she said tulips, yellow roses, or sunflowers. Choice was obvious 'nough.” You took the bouquet and held them to your chest⏤ still speechless in shock. “Then I went to pick us up some food. It only took me so long 'cause of Vegas traffic an' I had to go off the strip to find a place.”

“But… But dinner?”

Joel grinned boyishly with a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “My options were go to a stuffy dinner with guys I got no interest in seein', or have a night in with you.” He began to loosen his tie. “C'mon, sugar.”

You blinked at him. “Tess?”

“Will probably kill me.” Joel pulled the tie off with a shrug and gruffly added. “But she wants to kill me most days anyways.” He nodded to the bedroom. “Gimme a minute. I’m dyin' to get out of this damn suit.”

Joel tapped under your jaw with the side of his fist before heading to the bedroom. Even after he disappeared from view you stood frozen for another few seconds. Finally, you snapped out of it and walked over to the table. You set the flowers down and peeked into the bag to see the to-go food he mentioned. Carefully, you unpacked the bag and after the second box you realized it was Korean food. You froze again and felt a lump form in your throat. A while back, during a late night phone call, you had mentioned to him that Nima introduced you to Korean food by taking you home to meet her mother, and it had easily become a comfort food to you too. There was a Korean place a few blocks down from you where you’d pick up food on your way home on particularly bad days.

“I tried to order the soup you were talkin' 'bout, but you used the Korean word for it an' I sure as hell wasn’ gonna pronounce that right.” Joel spoke up from behind you. You spun to see him leaning against the doorway in a plain t-shirt and pajama pants. “So, I just described it to the woman an' she gave me the closest thing. Seaweed soup?” You nodded dumbly. “Good. Just in case I ordered a bunch of other stuff too.”

Suddenly, the pros and cons list you made didn’t matter all that much to you. Because right now, in this moment right here, Joel cared louder than the anxiety yelling in your brain. You dated Nathan for two years and he outwardly told you that he loved you. But before the two of you moved into together, when you had separate apartments, you paid for his rent when he lost his job, yet when you needed help covering your water bill once he claimed he wasn’t comfortable giving you so much money that early in the relationship. So much money being $100. When you asked him about one of his exes not only did he blatantly lie to your face about the last time he had seen her and after you found out he forced the three of you to get dinner together to prove whatever stupid point he was trying to make. And, right before you broke up, when you had caught the flu and begged him to pick you up some food from the place down the road, he refused because he said he didn’t like the smell of kimchi and didn’t want to go into the restaurant.

Your eyes filled with tears and Joel’s face fell. He pushed off the door frame in a hurry and pulled you into his arms. You buried your face into his chest and tried to bite back a sob. Joel soothingly cupped the back of your head, “Hey, you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You murmured into his chest and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be crying.”

Joel shushed you softly and pulled you back so he could meet your gaze, “None of that. It’s okay. You’re okay.” His hand cupped under your jaw as his thumb traced back and forth on the skin there. “Talk to me, sugar.”

You stared into his eyes and felt nothing by safety and warmth. “I’m just really thankful for this. For you. Just… Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me, Joel.”

Joel’s lips curled into a soft smile, “What have I said 'bout thankin' me for things I wanna do?”

Rather than answer, you just held his gaze. Joel did the same and the air between the two of you felt charged. There was always an energy bubbling anytime you were with Joel, but this was stronger⏤ more tangible. His eyes darted down to your lips then back up. Joel was going to kiss you. You were so sure of it. When his eyes darted down to your lips again you let them part. Anticipation electric on your skin. Joel sucked in a sharp breath. He leaned in, but his lips didn’t land where you thought they would. Joel set a kiss on your forehead, right above your eyebrows, and lingered there.

He had kissed your forehead before, did so right before he left an hour ago, but this was more intimate somehow. Your eyes fluttered closed and you took in a slow breath before letting it out. Joel pulled his warm lips away from your skin and let his own forehead rest against yours.

Your eyes stayed closed as you soaked in the feel of his hot breath against your skin and a pang of disappointment shot through you. “Joel…”

“I know.” Joel’s voice was hoarse and rough. “I… I know.”

Slowly, you let your eyes open and found Joel with his eyes already on you. “It’s okay.”

“You are…” Joel locked his jaw and closed his eyes.

There was something holding him back. You saw it written all over his face. Maybe you should worry that this had something to do with what Yo-yo had tried to tell you. Ten minutes earlier and you would’ve. Your anxiety would have grabbed hold of it, written it in bold on your cons list, and never left it alone. But, right now you felt at peace. That’s what Joel brought with him⏤ a sense of peace and calmness to your very soul. And that’s what you wanted to bring to him. You wanted to take care of him.

Your hands lifted to cup his face and when his eyes opened you gave him a bright smile. “If we don’t eat now the food’s gonna get cold.” His jaw relaxed and he murmured your name. Just as he did to you, you nodded, “I know.”

Joel cleared his throat and caressed your face once more before nodding, “Come on. Let’s get some food in you, pretty girl.”

While Joel finished pulling out the food, you set the sunflowers in a vase that was probably only meant for decoration and filled it with water. A glance over your shoulder showed Joel setting the food up on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“I put the wine from last night in the mini fridge if you wanna grab it.”

“Yeah, sure.” You made your way over and grabbed two glasses while you were doing so. “I gotta see what bribe wine tastes like.”

Joel turned and shot you a skeptical look, “Bribe wine?”

“The Wynn gave you the expensive wine to bribe you into not telling all your rich friends that you and your guest got accosted in the casino.”

He shook his head, “That is not bribe wine.”

“Why are you so sure?” You set the wine glasses down on the table and began to look for the corkscrew. “Do you dabble in bribe wine often, Mr. Miller?”

Joel groaned, “Don’ you start with this Mr. Miller shit.”

“Why not?”

“Because last I checked,” Joel stepped closer as you used the corkscrew you found in a drawer to begin opening the wine, “You’re supposed to be callin' me somethin' else.”

You gave the cork a tug, but it didn’t budge. “Hm, I can’t possibly think of what.”

“Oh, you can’t?” Joel remarked. You shook your head and gave the cork another useless tug. He took the wine bottle from you and, without breaking eye contact, Joel popped the cork out with ease. You went to grab it from him, but he pulled it back with a tilt of his head. “Manners, sugar.”

The worst case scenario would’ve been an awkward air settling in the room around you after coming so close to kissing him only for it not to happen. That being said, Joel slipped right back into the familiar teasing and that made you sigh happily. You held your hands out, “Thank you, daddy.”

“Good girl.” Joel chuckled and let you take the bottle from him. As you poured into the two glasses, Joel scooped up the remote and sat down. You dropped down next to him and handed him his glass. He tapped it against yours. “Any requests?”

“I’m not picky. You can choose.” You took a sip of the wine then hummed. “Mmm, this bribe wine tastes amazing.”

Joel laughed but didn’t take his gaze away from the screen as he flipped through different options, “You’re impossible, ya know that?”

He picked a random Netflix original action movie titled ‘Triple Frontier’ and tossed the remote aside. The movie played in the background, but the two of you ended up talking through a lot of it as you pointed out different foods that Nima had introduced you to originally and he had picked up. When the meal had been finished, you were curled into his side still sipping wine half chatting and half watching the movie.

A moment of silence rose up between the two of you and after a second you filled it, “About the dinner I made you miss⏤”

“First off, you didn’ make me do anythin'.” Joel scoffed. “An' secondly, I swear to God, if you apologize again…”

You chuckled, “Okay, I won’t apologize, but we’re in Las Vegas, the city that never sleeps, and I have us sitting on the couch watching a Netflix movie.”

“This right here is literally my definition of a perfect night.” Joel shook his head at you.

You leaned against his shoulder and decided to mention your afternoon, “I, uh, I met one of the sugar babies that was gonna be at the dinner tonight.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. She goes by Yo-yo.”

“Doesn’ ring a bell…”

“I think she said her sugar daddy is Simmons? Of Simmons Construction?”

Joel groaned loudly and hung his head backward, “Jesus, Simmons? Girl gotta be a saint to put up with that bastard.”

“She did refer to the man as ‘satan’.”

Joel lifted his head and smirked at you, “See? You saved me from a night with satan.” You chuckled. “Zero reason to be apologizin’. I should be thankin' you.”

“I think it’s a shame I didn’t get to meet him.” You hummed. “It sounds like quite the experience.”

Joel sighed and took a long sip from his wine glass, “Yeah, well, there’s always next year, sugar.”

Your eyes widened at his words, but Joel didn’t even blink. It was like he hadn’t even realized what he just said⏤ what he inferred. That you’d be here next year. With him still. You shifted your gaze back to the TV and smiled to yourself.

After another few quiet moments, you pointed toward the TV with your glass, “That guy looks like you.”

“Him?” Joel asked skeptically. You nodded in confirmation. “I’m better lookin' though right?”

“Of course, daddy! So much better looking.” You nodded.

Joel chuckled and reached down to pinch your side making you squeal and nearly spill your wine, “Right answer, wrong tone, ya little brat.”

You settled back against him, and Joel didn’t hesitate to tuck you in under his arm.

When the movie ended, Joel clicked on whatever the first suggested movie was so something was still playing, but neither of you paid enough attention to even know the title. The hand behind your shoulder was drawing circles on your shoulder while telling you about how excited he was that his eldest daughter was coming to visit soon.

“Do you have something fun planned?”

“We gotta tradition where we go to the drive in theater. No matter what’s playin'. Just sit in the bed of the truck an' hang out.”

You grinned, “That sounds fun.”

“It is.” Joel nodded and grew silent in thought. You thought he’d follow his last statement up with something else about the girls, but he caught you off guard with something else. “I wanna kiss you so bad, sugar.”

It was a good thing you had already set down your glass of wine otherwise it would have slipped right out of your hands. You sat up so you could turn in place and face him on the couch. Joel’s eyes traced your features with a sigh. Slowly, you nodded, “Do you… Do you want to talk about why you haven’t?”

“I’m jus',” Joel lifted his hand and caressed your jawline with his thumb, “Tryin' real hard to be good.” You opened your mouth to argue that he didn't have to be, but Joel pressed the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip to stop you before a word even came out. “Nah, I gotta. I gotta be good.” He forcibly dragged his eyes up from your lips to your eyes. “I like what we got. I like this. If I do somethin' to fuck it up, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“And giving me just a little kiss is gonna do that?”

Joel’s lips curled into a melancholic smile, “I think you an' I both know if we start it ain’t gonna be just some little kiss, baby girl.”

It was the first time he had used that pet name towards you and you just melted. If he was trying to steer the both of you away from temptation, calling you ‘baby girl’ was not helping. “How do you know that this won’t just get better?” It kind of stung realizing the reason he stopped earlier was because he thought a physical relationship would ruin this. “Why do you assume that would fuck this up? I⏤”

“No.” Joel said firmly and he squeezed his hold on the side of your face at the same time for even more emphasis. “Not you. What I jus' said? I’m talkin' 'bout me. Me fuckin' it up. It comes from… from personal experience.”

You wanted more information. You wanted him to explain more. You wanted to ask him about the sugar baby that came before you. Was that the personal experience he was talking about? All those thoughts, and you somehow couldn’t get a single one out of your damn mouth.

“I’m only bringin' this up 'cause I don’ want you confused.”

“Confused about what exactly?”

“'bout how much I want you.” Joel replied. You attempted to swallow the forming lump in your throat, but it didn’t help. “I jus' wanna do right by you, sugar. An' that…that’s just gonna take a little time, okay?” You gave him a small nod. “Can we jus' stay what we are in the meantime? If… If you don’t wanna wait for me to get my shit together, if you wanna walk, I understand.”

“No. I’ll wait.” You blurted. The thought of Joel leaving your life was too painful to even consider. The man had carved a slot in your life, and his absence would be noticed⏤ not just financially speaking either. If you walked away, you would miss him badly. Waiting was hardly a cost you had to think twice about. Especially, since you’d still have him in the meantime. Maybe not in the entire way you wanted him, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “If it means being with you, then I’ll happily wait.”

Joel pressed a chaste kiss to your temple before pulling you into a tight hug that you returned without hesitation. This wouldn’t be easy, but it was worth the effort. You pulled back and suggested changing the movie from whatever was playing to something the two of you would actually pay attention to, best of your ability at least, and Joel agreed. He grabbed the remote and pulled you into his side. The two of you were only a few options into the discussion when someone knocked on the door⏤ loud enough that it could probably be referred to a ‘banging’ rather than simply knocking.

“Did you order something?” You asked.

“No.” Joel rose cautiously and held a hand out for you to stay on the couch. There was a tension in his shoulders that worried you.

He only took a step forward when a female voice drifted faintly through the shut door, “Miller, I swear to Christ if you don’t open this goddamn door…”

Joel muttered a curse but his entire frame visibly relaxed. He glanced over his shoulder while approaching the door. “Whatever she says, jus' know I’m sorry for it.” You furrowed your brow at his words, but he explained no further. Joel tugged the door open and a brunette haired woman stormed in. Her light shade of hair was pulled back into a low, loose bun. A style thrown together just to keep it out of her face more than likely. She was around Joel’s age, if you had to garner a guess, and she wore a black form fitting dress that looked incredible on her, but you could see she wasn’t entirely comfortable in it. “Tess⏤”

“You son of bitch.” Tess pointed at him threateningly. She was shorter than him by a head, but Joel still reeled back with his hands held in mock surrender. “See? Can’t even fight back because you know you’re in the fucking wrong.”

“I’m sorry⏤”

“You know who I spent my night with?”

“Tess⏤”

“Putting up with Simmons, Crew, Han, and their trio of bimbo sugar babies.” Tess snapped. You frowned. Yo-yo was hardly a bimbo, she confided in you the reason she was saving up all that money was because she wanted to go back to college and then on to Law School, but she also told you she played it dumb around Simmons so you couldn’t fault Tess’ words. “All so you could⏤”

As if suddenly remembering why Joel had bailed, her light hazel eyes snapped to you. You stiffened awkwardly and not knowing what else to do, you lifted a hand in a pathetic wave, “Uh, hi.”

Tess stared at you for another beat before letting her eyes drag back to Joel in a look you could only describe as irritably smug. “Well⏤”

“Tess.” Joel snapped with fire in his voice. You finally looked away from Tess to glance at Joel. He was stiff again and you recognized the look of anger on his features with ease. “Don’t.”

Tess crossed her arms and scoffed, “Go get dressed. You’re getting drinks with the pricks.”

“I’m what?”

“I spent the last three hours pretending like I didn’t want to stab Simmons in the neck with my dinner fork.” Tess warned. “The least you can do is get that pretty little ass in a suit and go get one drink with him so you can discuss the Golden Plains plans.”

Joel locked his jaw and didn’t reply. Tess didn’t say anything further either. The two just glared at one another. She was sharp and cool ice while he felt like a wild and burning fire, yet it felt like an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force. Finally, Joel huffed angrily and shook his head.

“C’mon.” He grunted at you. He held his hand out as he walked toward the bedroom.

You began to stand, despite not loving the rough, grumbled command, but Tess shook her head. “No sugar babies allowed, per Simmons. Just the big boys for cigars and drinks.”

“What makes you think I give two shits what Simmons wants??”

“Play fucking nice, you ass.” Tess snapped. “You owe me.”

“Because you did your job at one dinner? I⏤”

“San Antonio 2019.”

Joel paused and scoffed, “Never let me live that fucking down.”

He waved his hand at her in irritation before disappearing into the bedroom. You heard the bathroom door slam shut and you jumped in place. The sound had been enough to remind you that you were now alone in a room with Tess. Slowly, you turned toward her to see she was already staring at you with the cold look she had pierced Joel with.

“Hi.” You said sheepishly and offered her a nervous smile. You introduced yourself, “Joel has told me a lot about you. I⏤”

“You two fucking?” Tess blurted. Your face burned and you opened your mouth to splutter out the beginnings of the answer, but she shook her head. “Guess not considering I’m finding you both on the couch fully clothed.”

You set your hands on your hips and cleared your throat, “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Don’t care if we did.” Tess replied. She marched closer and you had to resist the urge to scramble back from the incredibly intimidating woman. “Listen to me right now because I’m only giving you this warning once.” Tess crossed her arms. “The Miller brothers get these dumb fucking ideas in their head, but once they pick one they’re like a dog with a bone. Can’t get them to shake it.” She narrowed her eyes at you. “I told him I thought this was a stupid ass idea, but like I said⏤ dog with a fucking bone.”

“Look, I⏤”

“I’ve known Joel for twenty years.” Tess said firmly. “He’s family. Him, the girls, his idiot ass brother. I’ve been taking care of them from the start and I don’t do well with strangers stepping in to take advantage.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “No, no. This is a misunderstanding. I am not taking advantage of Joel.”

“So you paid for half this trip to Vegas?”

“Uh, no, but⏤”

“And he’s not paying all your bills?”

“Well⏤”

“Footing the cost of every single⏤”

“Hey.” You snapped to interrupt her and Tess’ eyes widened marginally in surprise. You swallowed nervously. Nima knew a friend that could help you hide a body, but there was something about Tess that told you she could drag you out to the desert alone and figure it out herself. “Yes, he is taking care of me, but it’s not just… I care about him. A lot. Joel means so much to me. I’m not just here to make ends meet. I really like him.”

Tess hummed, “Right. You’re one of those rare sugar babies who like a guy for their personality and not their wallet?”

“Well,” You cracked the most friendly smile you could muster to try and break the tension, “It helps he’s gorgeous.” Tess continued to glare at you, and you were tempted to throw a chair through the suite window and leap out just to avoid her stare. Granted, she looked close to just throwing you out herself. “Bad joke. Very bad joke. That was⏤ I’m sorry. When I get nervous my mouth just says things without my permission.”

It was painfully silent in the room as she just stared at you. You cleared your throat and just stood there awkwardly. Finally, Tess spoke up, “You step one toe out of line, and you will regret it. Do I make myself clear?”

The sound of the bathroom door opened and you nodded. “Crystal.”

Joel stepped back out wearing the suit he had earlier, but without the tie. The top few buttons of his shirt were messily hanging open and he didn’t bother fixing his tousled hair. Tess rolled her eyes at him, “Finally. Let’s go.”

“Just hang on.” Joel walked toward you.

“Miller⏤”

“Give me two fuckin' seconds, Tess.” Joel snapped.

Tess scoffed and marched out of the room into the hall without a passing goodbye in your direction. Joel finally reached you and his warm hands cupped your arms. You focused back on him and the softness you had grown used to had returned in his gaze. “So, she hates me.”

“No.” Joel shakes his head. “She don't.”

“You weren’t in here with us a minute ago, I think she might try and kill me.”

Joel chuckled and dragged a hand up past your shoulder to cup the side of your neck. “Tess is just… protective. A bull dog.”

You furrowed your brow, “She compared you to a dog too a second ago.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

Joel kissed your forehead, “I don’ know when I’ll be back so don’ wait up for me, 'kay? Same deal as last time. You need anythin' an' you jus' shoot me a text. Do not leave this room or let anyone in while I’m gone.” You nodded, but Joel wanted more than that. “Understood?”

“Yeah, I got it.” You agreed.

Joel brushed his thumb against your cheek in a caress once more before wishing you a good night and leaving. With both of them out of the room, you felt like you were finally catching your breath.

Vegas had been a whirlwind, but you supposed that was the appeal of the city to so many. Your hand was tangled with Joel’s as the two of you slowly walked through the lobby. Your bags had already been packed and brought down to the car by the staff. Now the two of you were just lingering for the sake of lingering. Joel told you more about the annoying time he had last night⏤ he hadn’t managed to get back until just past midnight.

You focused on the drag of his thumb against the back of your hand as he spoke. As much as you hated to admit it, you only half paid attention to the words he was saying. Your mind was playing through your meeting with Tess line by line. There was something nagging at you.

Joel squeezed your hand suddenly and you snapped your gaze to see him looking beyond you. He nodded, “She’s callin' you.”

“Huh?” You glanced over your shoulder to see Yo-yo waving to you as she hurried over. She wore a white cocktail dress that clung to her skin. Her hair was curled in pretty wave. “Oh, Yo-yo, hey.”

“I am so glad I caught you!” Yo-yo squealed and pulled you in a tight hug despite your hand still being connected to yours. “Ugh, I missed you so much last night. Can’t believe you bailed on me!”

“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling good.” You motioned to Joel. “Yo-yo, this is Joel Miller. Joel, this is Yo-yo. She’s the one I met by the pool yesterday.”

“It’s super nice to meet you, Mr. Miller.” Yo-yo replied in a musical tone.

Joel grunted in agreement with a curt nod. You gave him a curious glance, but he met your gaze. He nodded once, “Stay. I’ll get the car.”

“Oh, okay.” You replied. Joel pulled his hand from yours and wandered away. You furrowed your eyebrow in slight confusion.

Yo-yo chuckled and her tone lost the bubbly tone to return to her baseline normal one, “Wow. He is just as stoic and grumpy as everyone says.” You opened your mouth to argue. Technically, neither of those words described the man you spent your days with, but you couldn’t deny they fit him in the few seconds with Yo-yo here. “Also, he seriously is stupid hot. God. His jawline just makes me wanna gnaw on it. Shame he’s kind of a sleaze ball.”

“I don’t even know what that means⏤ wait, what?” You shook your head as the final part of her statement dawned on you. “What did you just say?”

Yo-yo twisted her lips in a frown, “I seriously am glad I caught you. I mean, I was gonna call you regardless, but this is probably better in person.”

“Yo-yo, spit it out.” You snapped.

“I did some digging last night when Simmons was out. Called a few girls I actually trust.” She sighed. “Best I’ve gathered, the sugar baby he had before you? Her name is Heather. Granted, I have no idea if that’s her real name or not since a good bit of us lie about that.” Yo-yo reached out to hold your elbow. “Anyways, my friend Tammy says the last time Heather bragged about seeing him was around four months ago.”

You blinked in shock. Four months? That was even less time considering you and Joel had been hanging out for almost a month and a half now. Worse, if it were true that meant Joel lied to you. He said his last relationship had been a year ago.

“That’s not the worst part…” Yo-yo said slowly.

“That’s not…” You lifted a hand to your face. You didn’t mean to snap at her, but it came out in frustration and confusion. “How exactly does it get worse, Yo-yo!?”

She hesitated a beat before sighing. Yo-yo said the words, you saw her mouth move and the words entered your skull, but they rattled around in a way that left your ears ringing. Yo-yo was saying your name in concern, but you were still trying to register her previous statement.

“He married her. Joel is a married man.”

Yeah. Yo-yo was right.

That was worse.

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✨J.M. Masterlist✨

#tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #sugar daddy!joel miller #sugar daddy!joel miller x reader #female reader #reader insert #the last of us #joel miller smut

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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months

Text

Fallen || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!devil!reader Summary: When a young driver wants to make a deal with the devil to get his greatest desire you find yourself forgetting what side of Heaven and Hell you are on. Warnings: supernatural themes, mention of deaths (Jules, Hervé & Hubert), angst, fluff WC: 5k

F1 Masterlist || Bonus Scene

16th October 2013 The kid had no business standing at the crossroads. What could a boy need so desperately that he was willing to part with his soul for it? But it wasn’t your place to question, merely to answer.

The boy murmured to himself as he knelt on the gravel and started to dig with a pink trowel he had borrowed from his mothers gardening tools. The quiet mutterings brought you amusement as you thought of the surprise he would get when his doubt was proven wrong and you appeared.

He carefully followed the instructions inked on the page that had been torn from a very old book. He reached up to his dark hair with a small pocket knife and cut away a small patch before laying it in the hole he had made. Turning the knife on himself, he whined as he pricked the tip of his finger and squeezed it until three thick blood drops fell onto the strands of his hair.

You would usually laugh at the poor attempt of the incantation to call upon you but instead you sighed as you grew tired of the theatrics.

“What do you want, kid?”

A small shriek filled the night as he fell back on his ass. “But…but…you…but…”

“Shit, you’re not even old enough to talk properly,” you said as you knelt down to his height. “Go home.”

His mouth snapped closed before scrambling to his feet and wiping the dust that covered his jeans. “Sorry, you gave me a fright. I was expecting…” he looked around and frowned, “never mind. Do you need help?”

“No, do you?”

He looked genuinely concerned as he searched the dark road and you tipped your head to the side before you remembered that to a human you looked like a 21 year old. It didn’t matter that you had roamed the world for a thousand years, your physical form remained the same.

“I guess not,” he sighed as his shoulders slumped and he kicked his vans at the loose stones as he whispered, “it didn’t work anyway.”

“It was your pronunciation, Latin is a tough language. I’ll let you in on a secret, you can say the incantation in any language and it will work.” You leaned in closer and chuckled darkly. “The devil just enjoys torturing people.”

“But…but…”

“Great, we’re back to that, are we?” You rolled your eyes and opened your palm, a ball of fire erupting into the night and the scent of sulphur lingering after the flame burned out. “What did you expect when you called me?”

“You…you’re the…dev…”

“Devil,” you offered as his face paled and he stumbled backwards. “Say it with me. De-vil.”

“You’re the devil? But you look like an angel.”

“More or less, there’s actually a lot of us.” You clapped him on the back and grinned when he jumped. “So what can I do for you, kid?”

“I heard you could grant wishes.”

“I’m not a genie, I’m a dealer,” you said with a shake of your head. “You tell me your dream and I make it happen, for a price.”

He chewed on his lip, his conscience trying to warn him it was a bad idea. “What price?”

You flicked your hand out and the piece of paper on the ground flew into your fingers. “You know the price. How old are you anyway, kid?”

“I’m sixteen, today actually.”

“Congratulations!” You frowned as it didn’t sound quite right and he did the same. “Wait, it’s happy birthday, isn’t it? We don’t exactly have them since we are fallen, not born.”

“That's really sad.”

“Hell help me, you are an emotional one.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as you felt the waves of empathy rolling off the teenager. “Listen, I’m all up for taking souls, it’s my job and I’m pretty good at it, but you seem like a nice guy so I’ll help you out pro bono as long as you don’t cry.”

“Really?” His excitement was almost as infectious as his smile as he grinned at your offer and you could tell that with a few more years of growth and maturity he would be as handsome as those goody-good angels.

“Really. So what’s your dream? And don’t go all ‘Disneyland’ and that shit, make it big.”

“I want to be a Formula One World Champion.”

“Fuck, okay, I said big not gigantic,” you said as you cracked your neck and then your knuckles before rolling your shoulders. “That will take some time to pull off, but we got this, kid.”

“Charles, my name is Charles Leclerc,” he said as he held his hand out. “Do devils have names?”

“Of course we have names, but names have power and I don’t know you well enough to share mine with you.” You shook his hand and he jumped a little at the heat difference since the hellfire made you run hotter than humans. That same heat flickered up your spine as you felt another calling at a crossroad half a world away and so you stepped away. “I’ll check in once a year to see your progress.”

“Wait, that’s it?”

You laughed darkly as thick smoke began to gather at your feet where the earth was opening to your home realm. The teen yelped as a lick of flame encircled his wrist but the scar that appeared just as quickly healed so no one would know he had been marked by the devil. “Goodbye, Charles.”

16th October 2014 “I wasn’t sure you would actually come, I thought you were a figment of my imagination.”

You stepped out of the shadows and looked around the modest home that should have been full of his friends celebrating his 17th birthday. The air was thick with grief and it made your back ache from the weight of it bearing down on you as you watched the teenager stand with his back to you at a bookcase.

“Maybe I am,” you murmured as you walked over to him and saw his eyes fixated on a photo.

Placing the photo back carefully on the shelf he turned and you saw the difference a year had made. “I want to make a deal. My soul, take it.”

“Woah, slow down, Birthday Boy, you don’t know what you are offering.”

“I don’t care, I just need him to be alright.” Tears were swimming in his eyes as he grabbed your hand and squeezed tightly. “Fix Jules, please.”

Unable to resist, you reached out and touched the tear that ran down his cheek. Pain obliterated your chest, crushing your insides as waves of memories flooded your senses until you knew Jules just as well as he did.

For the first time since your fall a thousand years ago, you were envious of the angel you had been. You wanted to be the cause of his hope, but that wasn’t something you could give and you tugged your hand from his hold before they could blister his skin. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Bullshit! You are a dealer, you said so yourself.”

“That’s not how it works, Charles, I’m a devil. Don’t you see? The deals I make are selfish, the things people want for themselves. You want a miracle,” you sighed and felt the familiar ache where your wings once were, “I can’t do those anymore.”

“You got me into Formula Renault.”

“You got yourself there, kid,” you said as you stepped away. “I just whispered a few suggestions to people I knew would listen.”

It was a little more threatening involved but you weren’t going to let him know that. You hadn’t needed to do anything other than get someone to give him a chance since he had the talent to win all on his own.

“There has to be something you can do,” he pleaded, his green eyes swimming with tears.

You sighed as you stepped away, rubbing your temple as if you could actually get a migraine like a human could. “I can’t make any promises, but…let me see what I can do.”

You faded from the room before you could see the hope that filled his face and followed the memory of his visit to Jules, finding yourself in the shadows of a hospital room. The room was empty except for the young man laying on the bed, wires and tubes keeping his breathing steady. You were struck by the pain you felt and knew it wasn’t real but the lingering effects of sharing Charles’ memory of him, but that knowledge still didn’t ease the ache.

“Azrael, come down here.”

It only took a second for the angel to appear and she didn’t look pleased at being called away from her duties.

“You’re not an archangel anymore, you can’t just snap your fingers at me.”

“Obviously I can since you showed,” you pointed out. “I need a favour.”

“You don’t do favours,” she said as she narrowed her eyes.

“I do now. I need you to leave him alone.”

Azrael looked at the comatose man before reaching forward and touching his forehead and shaking her head. “He’s one of ours, he has to come with me soon.”

“You have no sense of time, whatsoever. Soon could be 50 years from now.” You crossed your arms and stared the death angel down. “I’ll deny three souls in exchange for his life.”

“You’d turn down three deals for Jules? Who is he to you?”

“No one, but he means everything to someone else. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal, he has until I next come back down, no more.”

You nodded in agreement hoping her sporadic trips to earth erred on a lengthier time away this round. Unfurling her wings, you felt a pang of jealousy arise as you watched her fade away only to hear the strong beats of her wings carry her higher.

You aparated back to Charles and found him slumped in a leather reading chair, an album of photos open on his lap. Droplets splattered on plastic sleeves, only to smear into streaks as he wiped them away at your arrival.

“I bought him some time,” you said softly as you fell into the seat opposite him. “I can’t say how long because I don’t know but for now he will live.”

Charles dropped the book as he fell to his knees and clutched your hand tightly, the gesture making you uncomfortable. “Thank you,” he choked as his tears hit your knee through the rip in your skinny jeans and turned to steam. He didn’t seem to be affected by the heat radiating off you, he didn’t seem to feel it at all as he closed his eyes and rested his head on your joined hands. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, kid,” you said ruefully, pulling your hand back from the touch. “Healing was never my gift. He will have to do that on his own.”

“He will, I know he will,” Charles said with certainty as he rose to his feet. “He’s the strongest man that I know.”

You stood up with a nod and realised this year he was the same height as you, seeing eye to eye after his latest growth spurt.

“I hope you are right,” you said, feeling the floor start to give way beneath you as you willed yourself home. “Until next year, Birthday Boy.”

Charles’ nose wrinkled at the smell of sulphur filling the room and he stepped back at the sight of the black plume swirling around your boots. “You don’t have to wait a year, you can visit anytime.”

“Have you forgotten who I am?” you laughed as the smoke climbed higher.

“Just because you’re the devil, it doesn’t make you bad,” he said with a shy shrug. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

He was right in the fact you had been kind, something no one else would say about you. You couldn’t explain why you were different with him, why you couldn’t treat him like any other advantageous young man wanting to get ahead. There would surely be hell to pay if word ever got out about it.

The smoke reached your throat and pulled you down. “Maybe I made a mistake.”

16th October 2015 Charles would never know it but you had visited him throughout the year. You had kept to the shadows, watching from afar as he graduated to Formula 3 and came one step closer to reaching his dream. You were there by his side when he received the phone call that had devastated him, you had felt Azrael’s presence on the mortal plane and immediately went to him. You didn’t reveal yourself, not when the gut wrenching sound he made had you hate having fallen. You could offer him nothing so you remained hidden, torturing yourself with the knowledge of what could have been.

It was a little before midnight when you arrived at the busy nightclub. You should have just apparated into a bathroom stall but instead you had to produce a fake ID so the bouncer would let you in.

“Guess I can’t call you kid anymore,” you said as you found Charles in the VIP area and took a seat beside him. “Happy Birthday.”

“Who’s this angel, Charles?” his friend asked with a confident grin.

You tipped your head back with a laugh before you recovered enough to say, “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, but you call me D.”

Charles nearly choked on his drink at the snort he gave. “What are you doing here, D? I don’t remember inviting you.”

You leaned closer to see his cheeks flushed pink with the alcohol he was now legally allowed to imbibe in and whispered, “There’s only one place I need an invitation, and despite the name on the door outside - this isn’t Heaven.”

With a huff of annoyance he stood up and made his way out of the VIP area to the packed dance floor. Knowing everyone was completely inebriated you didn’t bother to follow him, instead you suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Leave me alone,” Charles growled as he turned his back, but everywhere he went you were in front of him.

Finally he gave up escaping and you shoved a hand on your hip as you asked, “What’s your problem?”

“My problem? You lied to me, that’s what!” The drink in his hand spilled over the rim of the glass with the angry shaking overtaking his body. “Jules died…and you weren’t even there. You never visited me and…I needed you. I needed to know why!”

You took the glass from him and tipped the liquid back, relishing the burn of the alcohol down your throat as he stared daggers at you. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, mortal.”

“Well, we never made a deal, so there’s no need for you to be here, devil.”

The words hurt more than you cared to admit and the glass shattered in your hand, ichor flowing from the wounds before they could heal as quickly as they came. Charles' eyes widened at the dark liquid coating your palm and he almost looked worried for you but you weren’t looking at him. Your eyes were fixed on your heels, the shoes uncomfortable compared to the boots you normally wore but you had wanted to fit in. For him.

“You’re right,” you muttered as you freed your hair from the constricting hair tie and kicked the shoes off. There was nothing to be done about the tight red dress until you were home, but you would be there soon enough. “Goodbye, Charles.”

16th October 2016 Try as you might, you couldn’t stay away. Unbeknownst to Charles, you regularly checked in to see what his latest accomplishments were. As it was, he was leading the Formula 3 Championship and was a sure graduate to Formula 2. He raced like he had the devil breathing down his neck, pushing the boundaries to the brink of disaster.

Maybe he knew you hadn’t abandoned him, or maybe he just didn’t care. You knew you definitely shouldn’t have cared but still you watched him grow into a man and mature as his career evolved.

16th October 2017 You had nearly started another war the day Azrael came for Charles’ father. For three days you stood ready to fight the angel of death for Charles’ biggest supporter while he visited the hospital to say his goodbyes. He had lied to his father, telling Hervé that he had signed to a Formula 1 team for the next year and you promised to make it happen - with or without a soul to bargain.

It wasn’t a difficult task to achieve, a small incident with Pascal Wehrlein making a seat available in Sauber. All Charles had to do was keep his head in the game and go fast like he always did.

When you watched him celebrate his birthday his eyes had glanced around the room and you wondered if it was you he was looking for. It was only when those green eyes landed on a family photo you pushed the silly thought away, he was just missing his father.

16th October 2018 “How long have you been there?” Charles asked the empty room.

How he sensed your presence, you didn’t know, but since you no longer needed to hide it you let the shadows fall away. Turning away from where he had been styling his hair in the mirror, he leaned against the dresser and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

His room hadn’t changed all that much, Ferrari posters still covered the majority of the walls but they were also joined by some models posing on hoods of cars. The twin bed had been upgraded to a double and was covered in a red and yellow bedspread that clashed with your trademark black outfit as you lay across it.

“How often do you do that?”

“Do what?” you asked innocently as you stared at his ceiling and not his narrowed eyes.

He waved a hand over your leisurely state. “This.”

You got off the bed and stalked across the room to the Formula 1 racer and found you had to look up at him even with the heels on your boots. “Don’t mortals leave home by now? I thought the 21st birthday was some big right of passage.”

You reached for the tub of hair product and sniffed at the vanilla scent before it was swiped from your hand. It smelled edible and there was another scent that was just as good but you weren’t sure what it was or where it was coming from until you leaned closer to him and inhaled.

“I just bought an apartment but it’s not ready for me to move into for a few more weeks. Will you stop that?”

“What is that smell?” Your head was swimming as if you were high but that wasn’t possible. “My head…”

You could barely stand upright as you felt drunk all of a sudden and Charles caught you as you stumbled back. “Sit down,” he said softly as he guided you to the edge of his bed. “Why did you come back?”

Your head lolled onto his shoulder and the room spun as the truth tumbled from your lips. “I never left you,” you admitted, your words slurring as the intoxicating smell left you dazed. “Not when Jules died…or your father, never…”

Charles frowned as your eyes closed and you fell back on his bed. He had spent so long blaming you, being angry at you, believing you had abandoned him when he needed you most but as you murmured in your strange state he realised he had it all wrong.

“D?” he called out as he shook your shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You tried to open your eyes but they were too heavy and you curled into a ball as your stomach churned. “Because I shouldn’t care. You’re just a human.”

“But you do care,” he surmised as he grabbed the blanket and draped it over your shivering body.

“Devils don’t care.” You could hardly talk through your chattering teeth, the blanket doing nothing to warm the ice that had seeped into your being.

Charles curled himself up against your back and tightened his arms around the blanket as he tried to warm you. Nothing seemed to work until his voice spoke softly in your ear, “Then maybe you’re not like the others.”

The silence grew and he thought you had passed out when you muttered, “I had nowhere else to go.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a war…couldn’t choose a side…threw me out.” A yawn silenced your words and you snuggled into his arms, your nose finding that delicious scent strongest on his neck where you nuzzled deeper.

“My cologne,” Charles whispered and you realised you had asked aloud what it was. “You’re like a cat high on catnip.”

“Haven’t been high since I had wings.” You giggled, a sound so unlike you, but it turned to a sad sigh. “I miss my wings.”

Charles brushed your hair back from your face but you didn’t have the strength to open your eyes. “What colour were they?”

“There isn’t a colour to describe them. But you can see it at dawn…look to the east…the last star in the morning sky.”

“The Morningstar?” Charles looked down to see your lips parted with a soft snore and reached into his pocket for his phone. There was no way he was going to leave you in the state you were in, not even for his own birthday party.

16th October 2019 You had thought Azrael had forgotten the deal you made but she made sure to remind you of it when she crossed paths with you at the Belgium GP. Charles’ head had snapped your way the moment he heard the crash and you shook your head sadly. The only reassurance you could give him was that the young driver’s soul was at peace.

Before leaving with her precious cargo, Azrael had given you two months to keep your end of the bargain and you didn’t want to test her patience. The crossroads had been quiet and it took nearly the whole time to find three souls worthy of denying a deal, most people who offered their souls for their greatest desires deserved the eternal damnation in return.

As soon as your task was fulfilled you returned to Charles, to the only place you felt at home. After waking in his arms a year ago you had struggled with the duties expected of you, finding more and more excuses for the downturn in deals. After waking in his arms, you wanted to be more than what you were. You wanted to believe you could be more, like he believed in you.

“D,” Pierre greeted as he joined you at the bar. “Still looking as lovely as ever.”

“Still the charmer.”

His attempt to shift closer to your side was blocked by the heat radiating from you and he pulled back with a frown, brushing the oddity off in his tipsy state. “Where have you been?”

“Here, there, everywhere,” you answered absentmindedly as you felt Charles’ presence before you spotted him. “I travel for work.”

“Let me guess - modelling?”

“Dealing.”

“No way!” His eyebrow shot up and he leaned in to whisper, “Drugs?”

“Not quite,” you said with a laugh. “Something far more lucrative.”

Charles’ hand came to rest on the small of your back and his lips brushed your cheek. “Sorry I’m late, ma diablesse. What are you drinking?”

“I could do with a-” your voice trailed off as a fissure ran through the air and you turned to see what had just walked in the door. “Hold that thought.”

“What’s wrong?” Charles asked but you were already weaving your way through the crowd.

Waves of power rolled off the beast but no one would see the tusks spearing out of its face or the black soulless eyes, they would merely see a mountain of a man and a vibe that warned them to move aside.

“This is a bit out of your territory, Fowler. What are you doing topside?”

The demon looked over your shoulder and smirked. “Heard some interesting rumours.”

“And what rumours were those?”

“That some darling angel was caught up with a mortal, helping out for free. You know the rules. No soul, no deal.” Fowler’s hand snapped out and caught your throat, his claws threatening to tear it out. “Don’t forget who took you in when your family threw you out.”

“Fuck you, I’ve more than paid my debt,” you spat as you grabbed his wrist and seared his skin with the lick of your flames. “Don’t come and threaten me.”

“I don’t have to threaten you,” he chuckled as he cradled his hand to his chest and looked past you to where Charles was pushing his way to your side. “Mortals are so weak, a little accident is all it takes.”

There was no way you could let Fowler return to Hell with the information he had, your weakness, so you did the only thing you could to protect Charles. You rushed the demon as the ground opened, disappearing into the pit with him before Charles could follow. You called all of your power and funnelled it into your fire, pouring it down the demon's throat until he was smothered by the flames and a smoking husk that turned to ash as you crashed to the ground.

“Morningstar, what is the meaning of this?”

You bowed to Beelzebub before kicking away the ash that had settled on your boot and painted a dark smile onto your face. “He interrupted a deal, I couldn’t let that grievance go unpunished. Or did you want me to forgive him?” You challenged him with an arch of your brow until he huffed a sigh and waved the question away with the whip of his tail.

“So where is the contract for the soul?”

“Did you miss the part where I said he interrupted the deal?”

“I’m not sure if I liked you less as an angel or not,” he uttered from his throne of skulls.

“I have that effect.” You started to leave the way you came but a chain snared around your ankle and locked into place before you could escape.

“Not so fast.” You were thrown onto your ass as he yanked the chain and dragged you to the foot of his throne. “I find myself short of an enforcer,” he said as he looked pointedly at the pile of ash you had created.

“So find another,” you growled as you tried to melt the chain but it merely absorbed the heat you poured onto it, “there’s no shortage of brainless fools ready to serve you.”

“But look how that ended,” he laughed. “How about a deal? Ten years as my enforcer for your freedom.”

Freedom. Ten years was nothing, just a blip to an immortal, but you weren’t thinking of yourself. You were thinking what ten years would be for Charles. Would he have a wife and kids? Would he have won his world championship? Would he remember you?

“Two,” you countered.

“Five.”

“Deal, but on one condition.” You stopped fighting the chain and rose to your knees. “I want a soul.”

16th October 2024 You were beyond exhausted when you stumbled into the bedroom, using the last of your strength to find your way back to him. The last five years had been brutal and it was a miracle that you had survived to complete your end of the deal, much to Beelzebub’s chagrin. The bastard had thrown every impossible task your way but you had something he could never understand, hope. And it kept you fighting to the bitter end.

You crashed onto the bed as your legs gave out and he leapt up at the intrusion, the bedside lamp lighting up and illuminating his silhouette as he stared at you wide eyed. “Ma diablesse? You came back…”

“Always, Birthday Boy.” You reached for him, needing to feel him with your own two hands after missing him for five years. It was his face that had kept you alive and you cupped his jaw to pull him closer only to freeze at what you felt. “Charles?”

“What? What is it?” he asked with panic as he placed his hands over yours, holding them tight to his cheeks.

“You have a beard,” you whispered, turning his face to the side to see the styled hair on his jaw. “When did that happen?”

Charles laughed and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck as he crushed you against his chest. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“I would have been back sooner but I made a deal with the devil.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out an unassuming medallion. “A soul, my soul.”

Charles frowned in confusion as he trailed a finger over the symbols of an ancient language long forgotten. “What do you mean?”

“No more devil deals, if you’ll have me, I would be human.”

Shock rippled through his features. “You would give up immortality for me?”

“Hell is an eternity without you,” you said before you pressed your forehead to his, sharing his breath of life. “And if I never make it back to Heaven at least I will have had a moment of it here with you.”

Bonus scene here.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

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glitteryinknotes · 8 months

Text

Astarion & his life before Cazador

After seeing a few different takes on it, my thoughts have been circling around Astarion's pre - vampiric life and what it must have been like to shape him into the person we know, behind the trauma and his attempts to hide the truth of his feelings and vulnerability inside him.

After days of musings, I've tried to gather my thoughts into a single analysis of a sort, both on his general mindset and his life as the person buried in the graveyard as Astarion Ancunin.

What can be said - disappointing as it is - is that in his life he most likely was what can be tactfully referred to as "an asshole". He held a magistrate's position, but most likely didn't give a damn about anything other than luxuries this position provided him with and the life of utter debauchery he was given on a silver plate. I don't think he's ever had to really fend for anything nor work towards anything, or deal with any kind of problems either on personal or any other level. What's worse - he probably had his part in some form of severe oppression of the common people, otherwise why would he get jumped and beaten to death (his attackers clearly aimed for his death, not just a lesson to be taught) in his own city.

(I would like to mark at that point that my further thoughts are not an excuse for him being a shitty person. If he was a dick indeed, that's on him)

Astarion is, fundamentally, as others have pointed out before me, a rather selfish person - or more specifically, self - absorbed to the point of selfishness. That's one of his core vices.

However.

He isn't an evil person either. He is capable of compassion and taking interest in other people. He is fiercely loyal to those he loves (that being Tav) and capable of consideration, pride and joy for those he considers friends. He is very slow to trust (understandably so) or accept kindness - but once he does, he remains true to the people who granted him those gifts. His confession scenes are the best proof of that - where his consience, still intact, is eating him up as he can't stomach leading on the only person he knows who treated him well.

And as much as he adores his own charms, beauty, pleasure, fine things, there is deep within him the yearning for something more than that. He isn't truly sated by all of those shallow things, nor is he pushed to any kind of growth within them. This yearning is something he is barely able to recognise and understand himself, let alone pursue it. But it's there.

Astarion's character and behavioral patterns must have been shaped before. The trauma from Cazador's enslavement broke him, scarred his psyche to unimaginable extent, exposed his worse qualities and drove him to become a shell of who he could have been, leaving him utterly out of touch with himself, burdened with indescribable guilt and self - loathing, stuck in desperate survival mindset. But his inner self was still shaped somewhere and somehow.

I've come to imagine that his pre-vampiric life wasn't really a happy one. It was undoubtedly rich, loud, unspoiled by any hardships, but fundamentally empty. Without any semblance of meaning, without any true kinship with anyone or any genuine emotional intimacy. Even if he lived like there was no tomorrow and nothing in the world mattered but his pleasure - deep down, maybe he knew he wasn't truly satisfied and that no amount of shameless, drunk debauchery would ever fullfill this emptiness. Perhaps he craved something more after all, something he hadn't been taught how to seek.

Now how could it have come to that?

He was most likely born in some wealthy local family (or one with considerable influence in the city) that held the position of the magistrate for generations, hence his lifestyle and being granted the title at such a young age for elven standards (he was 39 at the time of his presumed death; i personally would equal that to no more than 30 years by human standards, more like middle 20s even). He was obviously somebody's son - but I don't personally believe he ever experienced the healthy, genuine love a child should be provided, he strikes me as a type of person who never quite had a good, trusted role model to look up to, no one to call him out on his vices and lovingly steer him into growing into a possibly best version of himself. No one to check him on his selfish instincts and show him that there may be a more rewarding way of going through the world. That kind of thing usually happens through some sort of neglect and lack of sufficient care; my guess is that he never had an actual meaningful bond with his parents, was raised mostly by hired caretakers and overall in his childhood didn't experience the much needed selfless love & care from emotionally close people, the kind of love that subconsciously makes us believe that there is good and kindness in the world and that it's worth the effort on our part.

Whatever came in his elder years couldn't have been better, and it certainly didn't make him a better person. Some amount of power, money, countless pleasures, all of that he so adores but which doesn't ultimately fullfill him nor make him truly value and appreciate himself on a deeper level. And after his death - he was most likely mourned in some way, but not necessarily missed by anyone and was quickly forgotten. Perhaps his parents remembered - but they too eventually moved on.

What leads me to believe that?

The most interesting thing about Astarion's final love declaration to Tav is that he says he feels "seen" with them. It's one of the most beautiful things we people can offer each other - the feeling of being "seen" and safe in that sight, understood, felt, valued. That can only happen when the other person knows us well enough to be aware of all the ugly qualities we possess, but is just as aware of our capability for all the good ones, and so, in the greater picture sees the better version of ourselves (sometimes even better than we ourselves can picture) and that vision, when truly caring for the other person, we trust and want to live up to. By seeing ourselves the way our loved one sees us, we allow ourselves to grow and be better.

I don't think Astarion ever had that kind of person. I don't believe that he ever, in his pre - vampiric life, experienced a kind of love and trust needed for such a feeling - being "seen", and wanting to be seen as someone good, worthy, valued. Even more - I don't think he ever had any kind of true friend or companion. And that kind of emptiness deeply cripples a person, no matter who they are.

The tragic thing is - Tav may not be the first person to show Astarion kindness and care after years of torment from Cazador, they may be the first selflessly caring and kind person in his entire life. Even if he doesn't remember anything about his previous life, emotionally, he doesn't even seem to recognise the feeling of being cared for, considered, valued, appreciated for who he is, he doesn't instinctively recognise emotional closeness of any kind. Tav may be his first ever true companion, confidant, someone he comes to value and trust enough, that he eventually wants to be the same for them - and be better himself.

Tav may just be the first person to be a selfless and genuinely healthy influence for him, the first person to call him out on shitty behaviour and challenge him, but also to the first one to care. Ever. The first person Astarion comes to care about. The person through whom he learns to care and value more, both others and himself. And the person through whom he learns to love.

I don't believe he ever loved before, nor was he truly loved in the first place. Maybe he never tried, maybe he never dared, maybe he didn't know how to, maybe no one taught him. Tav was the best thing to happen to him in both of his lives.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion analysis

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moonmaiden1996 · 2 years

Text

Claiming his Queen Part Two

Honestly, you so much. I did not expect to get such as wonderful response. Thank you so much.

Warnings- Smut, dark love, possessive love, obsessives love, soul branding, kidnapping

The hickey took a week to disappear, the purple hue mocking you from beneath your clothing. It took a further week before you realised you had an interloper in your dreams. You could never see him; he was always just on the edge of your sight, almost like he was teasing you and begging you to see him again. Despite that, you could feel him watching you, touching you, willing you to submit to him. The worst part was that you wanted to. He made you weak and desperate.

Dreams were no longer a sanctuary; they were a prison to your desire and need.

But you would not waver to him. Not submit to his power. The burn might still be there, but you weren’t beaten yet.

Your research had been fruitful. Demons could not manifest themselves in the physical world without a host or a spell that would bind them to a particular spot. With the spell ring destroyed and the manor, the demon was harmless; the only place it could get to you was your dreams. Thirty more minutes of research were enough to realise you could only manifest a dream if you were in REM sleep, a deep enough sleep that the physical world had no bind to you. In which the perfect plan presented itself.

You brought a ridiculously expensive sleep monitor system and alarm. If we set the alarm to wake you every hour and a half, you could fight off the dreams without falling into the depths of sleep deprivation. It was the only plan you had, and if it didn’t. You shivered. It didn’t bare thinking about.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

You were lounging on a pile of cushions on your bedroom floor, the sound of rain pattering against your window. In your hands, you fiddled with the alarm. It was a little white box with a thin set of wires, now securely attached to your wrist. This could work.

A small smile etched across your face as a pleasant warmth caressed against the side of your neck. A small mew escaped from your mouth as lips moved across your throat before nuzzling against the side of your face. The familiar mop of obsidian locks tickled at your skin.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

‘I have missed you. My business is almost complete; then, we will be together.’ His low voice vibrated across your neck and straight to your core.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tensed. Where was that freaking alarm?

‘I just need a little touch to sustain me. Will you grant me this one small thing, my love?’ He mumbled into your skin, hands roaming across your body as his lips devoured your neck, teeth scraping across your delicate skin.

You didn’t respond; you didn’t need to. A throaty moan escaped your traitorous mouth as warm fingers ran across your panties, ghosting across your clit. It was not enough for you to feel anything but to abandon all logical thoughts and surrender yourself to his sinful embrace.

You bucked your hips forward, pushing your wet pussy into his hand. Your treacherous body succumbing to its base instincts.

‘Let me hear you.’ His voice was like liquid sin, fuelling the fire in the pit of your stomach.

A gasp ripped from her throat as the pads of three of his fingers rolled tight circles across the top of your clit. You were clenching around nothing, chest heaving as you tried to remain still, biting your lip in a feeble attempt to control the unbridle moans that spewed from your mouth. But your stubborn resolve only earnt an increase in pressure that made you whimper, as his fingertips burrowed down directly, working into the sensitive bundle of nerves through the thin cotton of your underwear. Beside you, you could feel his breath becoming laboured- impatient, frustrated grunts as his gaze absorbed the tremble of your hips.

Your gaze clung to the thick mop of hair; the side profile of his face was beautiful, with white skin and an elegant nose dipping gently down to the pretty pink lips parted in a growl. You wanted to see him fully, but you feared if you did, all resolve would collapse, and you would be lost in the grasp of this demon.

‘I NEED to taste you.’ He growled primally.

Cool air attacked your bare skin causing a needy whine to tumble from the back of your throat. A dark chuckle vibrated against your thighs as the black figure pushed them apart and kept them wide. With a flick of his fingers, your underwear disappeared in a cloud of dust before he nestled down between your legs. His smooth face nuzzled in between your thighs. Full lips mouthed against your tender flesh before his tongue slowly descended across the recesses of your core. Oh god. Your fingers dug into his thick mane as you watched him burrow deeper into your folds, licking a heavy stripe up the length of your pussy. Before slowly, he drove the tip of his tongue inside you, moaning wantonly at the taste of your wetness, before returning his attention to your clit, suckling it between his lips

‘Oh my…fuck!’ Was all you could stammer as you arched your back off the bed.

Fluttering lashes shot up to you, framing the beautiful mercury eyes of your predator. He dared to smirk against your pussy before his furious tongue lashed against your clit, thrusting his jaw deeper to pull a series of pathetic cries from you, hungry like a starved man eating the forbidden fruit. His eyes burnt into you, never blinking, never moving an itch as you writhed against his mouth.

You were powerless against his moans, the vibrations strumming on your sensitive core as he suckled between your clit and your begging opening.

You were already close, but who could blame you when he devoured you, his silver eyes pulling you in? Tears pricked at your eyes, unable to look away from him, lapping at your centre. You babbled, moaned and cried, dark eyes drinking you in. Suddenly, his tongue plunged into you. Your lips parted to make a desperate plea.

Then.

Then the dream shook. You couldn’t hear your moans anymore or his soft grunts as he ate you out, just the piercing wail of an alarm. Your alarm. His eyes darted away from you to glare at the black strap tightly bound to your wrist as it ripped you away from the dream.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

You awoke whimpering.

You were dripping with arousal, clit throbbing. Yet your brand on your palm was suspiciously pain free. Tentatively glancing down, you felt a gush of relief as your saw the flash of cotton, your underwear was still firmly in place. It was all a dream. You were safe.

Yet.

‘What. Is. This.’ The voice roared.

Your eyes darted up, resting on the figure of the man standing directly next to you on the bed.

‘You…you can't be here…you’re a demon, I am dreaming. This isn’t real.’ You knew it was, but you hoped it would be true if you said it aloud.

He looked the same as he did ten years ago. However, now he was dressed in an immaculate black suit, yet he looked rumpled, hair a dishevelled finger thread mess. His mouth and chin shone in the moonlight with your sticky essence.

‘I am no demon’, he spat, angry silver eyes glinting menacingly in the darkness. ‘I am the King of the Dreams.’

Dreams? Shit.

‘I will ask you one last time, my love, What. Is. This?’

‘I…’ What could you say?

‘Master…’ a voice called behind, pulling away his gaze. Behind him, an inky black raven emerged from the dark, nudging the white box. ‘it’s a sleep tracker; it wakes her up’ it paused, flapping its wings before resuming ‘if she starts to dream,’ The bird sounded almost disappointed, sad even as it shook its feathers.

You didn’t want to, but you looked back at the looming man. He stared at you coldly, fury swirling in those silvery depths, but now they turn grey and icy, like a winter’s sky.

‘I am disappointed; I tried to be patient, but you trick me with this.’ As he spoke, the slim box shattered in his hands, the deep rich voice now a bitter mummer as a delicate finger tugged open a small pouch, and with a majestic flick, a swirl of sand tugged you into darkness.

‘Shhh shhh, sleep for now.’

Yes, I am evil, and yes I am a whore for Dark Morpheus. For the next chapter, I think... more smut is in order (obviously), Morpheus POV? and Morpheus's big sister might appear. What do you think? Please leave comments below as they make me so happy!

@daydreamin1220 @starsleeping-m @jesllianaquilesrolon @columbinathedove @ultimatreality @startdust-and-starlight @duhitzdae @songbirdcannabe @musemaniac42 @wt-fxck @quillycrow

#Morpheus #morpheus x y/n #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #the sandman #king of dreams

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dark-and-kawaii · 5 months

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To add to anons Haarlep request, could I request a scene where Raphael forces reader to take his ascended cock. It’s at that moment where Haarlep realizes they actually do have feelings for tav

I love angsty shit like this!!! I hope you enjoy it babes!!! I’m trying to keep Haarlep in character as best as possible!! I wrote this while eating at shake shack LMAO I hope it turned out okay!!!

Haarlep - Ascended Raphael - NSFW - Noncon - Hurt/ Comfort - (Click Here For Haarlep Request)

Haarlep holds you tightly in their arms, attempting to offer some semblance of comfort before the impending pain. Their hand caresses your head gently as they whisper in your ear, "The more you resist, the longer he will prolong it." The cold ground beneath you provides no solace for what is about to unfold.

Opening your eyes, you gaze upon the transformation that Raphael has undergone. His once simple horns have morphed into a complex crown of infernal bone, framing his snouted face. Additional faces protrude from either side of his cheekbones, granting him a total of four fiery orange eyes. His entire being radiates with infernal flame, and fearsome tusks emerge from each of his mouths. Trembling, you find your arms instinctively reaching out to grasp Haarlep's, desperately pleading, "Haarlep, please... I-I won't be able to endure this..." Tears well up in your eyes.

As for Haarlep, they were powerless. They have already tried to sway Raphael, his brat of a devil. But in Raphael's eyes, both of you have crossed the boundaries one too many times. And now, he plans to utterly ruin you, to push you beyond the point of no return. He seeks to starve Haarlep of their desires, and what better way than to take the very flesh that brings them the most pleasure.

Haarlep rests their head against yours, silently promising to bring you relief in the healing bath afterward, it would be your only saving grace. Raphael, however, pays no heed to your pleas, his focus solely on the cruel act that is about to unfold. He positions himself at your entrance, his monstrously large cock ready to invade your trembling core.

A scream escapes your lips as your pussy strains to accommodate the colossal pillar of cock that invades you. It feels as if you are being torn in two, both your stomach and cunt stretching to accommodate the immense member. Your nails dig into Haarlep's arms, their grip on you tightening as they reassure, "It will be over soon, little dove." The ridges on Raphael's cock only added to the discomfort, scraping against your sensitive inner walls. A strained whimper escapes you as he shows no mercy, thrusting into you with relentless force, plunging deep into your womb. The brutal pace leaves you gasping for air, with no respite in sight. "N-no... No more, pl-please... Har-Haarlep…" you groan, your head hanging limply. Haarlep lifts your head gently, planting a tender kiss upon your forehead.

Another scream erupts from your lips as you throw your head back against Haarlep's chest. Raphael is determined to breach your cervix, to claim your womb as his own. He desires to impregnate you, to mark you as his possession.

Without wasting a moment, Raphael releases a torrent of his cum inside you, causing your once flat belly to swell with his seed. Tears stream down your face, you realize the gravity of the situation, the knowledge that you will carry his offspring, a physical manifestation of his dominance over you. There’s no way you aren’t pregnant after all this…

As Raphael reverts to his human form, a smirk of satisfaction plays on his lips. Your stretched and gaping cunt leaks his seed, an endless stream that seems to mock your vulnerability. "I wonder," he taunts, his voice dripping with sadistic delight, "if my child will bear resemblance to my ascended form. Will it tear your insides as it emerges, breathing new life into this world? Only time will tell." With a snap of his fingers, he disappears, leaving you and Haarlep on the floor, your consciousness barely intact.

Haarlep takes a moment to collect themselves, their emotions a twisted mix of dread? And, love? They gather you in their arms, carrying you over their shoulders to the healing bath, Raphael's cum still oozing from your ravaged cunt. As they enter the bath, Haarlep carefully places you in the water, the warmth offering a brief respite from the pain and torment that has consumed you.

In the past, Haarlep had reveled in your suffering, laughing in your face before taking you for themselves, ravishing your cunt just as their master had done. But now, after all this time spent together and witnessing your unwavering loyalty, Haarlep found themselves contemplating the concept of love. The dread in their chest prompts them to ponder these unfamiliar emotions. The desire to protect and keep you safe, to claim you as their own, grows within them. Haarlep has always despised Raphael, but with every passing second that you remain under his clutches, the yearning for his demise intensifies. Perhaps it is time to send word to your old companions…

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #tav #Haarlep #haarlep x tav #raphael x reader #ascended raphael #ascended Raphael x tav #haarlep x reader #bg3 Raphael x tav #bg3 raphael x reader #tw.noncon

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lancermylove · 5 months

Text

MC is Scared of Them (Scenario)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Pairing: Malleus, Rollo with gn! Reader.

Warning: Angst

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: I’m here with the mild angst baybee. Could you possibly write a scenario where Rollo and Malleus (separately) have a crush on someone (GN) who is absolutely terrified of them? Like “one wrong move and they’ll book it” type of terrified of them? How would the boys try to coax them, or do they at all? Tysm ☺️

A/N: Malleus's got a bit more angst than I meant. ><

Word Count: Malleus (454), Rollo (302)

———————————————

Malleus

Your existence was nothing less than intoxicating to him. Like a moth to a flame, his attention was always on and for you; if you were nearby, he would study your every movement; if you were nowhere in sight, his eyes would eagerly search for a glimpse of you. It was evident to everyone that Malleus had a crush on you, except you.

To you, he was nothing more than the most powerful mage in that world and the future King of Briar Valley, and his title and power terrified you. Throughout your many encounters, Malleus had discerned you were frightened of him, but this did not deter him from attempting to win your trust and, eventually, your heart.

Seeing Malleus approaching you again, you nervously shifted your gaze to your feet and mentally reminded yourself to stay calm. Your attempt to avoid his gaze was futile, as his attention was firmly placed on you. His gaze seemed to pierce through you as if looking deep into your soul; his green eyes took in your every flaw, yet he saw no flaw.

"Do you fear me, Child of Man?" His firm voice held compassion and a yearning so deep that it was almost primal.

His patience wore thin when you refused to answer his question. Everyone on campus could see how enamored the Prince of Briar Valley was with you, so why could you not see his feelings? You suddenly felt his long fingers brush against your jawline before gently grasping your chin. Malleus tilted your head to look up at him and studied your wide, dilated pupils.

"Do you believe I could harm you?"

A hint of desperation and sadness coated his stern voice as his emerald eyes searched your face for the slightest hint of trust in him. Much to his despair, the dragon prince found nothing but trepidation.

"Tell me, Child of Man. Why do you fear me? Do you believe I am a cruel monster, much like those on this campus?" The desperation and softness in his voice grew as he spoke. "Why do you hold reservations about my intentions?"

Your lips parted slightly as if you were prepared to answer his question, but you swatted his hand away, spun on your heels, and ran as fast as your legs could carry you. Malleus was unprepared for your actions but gave you the space you desired. As the sound of your feet faded into the distance, he sighed deeply and momentarily lowered his head.

"All I ask is for you to grant me the privilege to show you my true self."

Turning in the opposite direction from where you ran, the prince stood motionless and stared into the empty horizon.

Rollo

Rollo refused to admit it aloud, but an overwhelming sense of warmth and pain captured his heart whenever you were near him. Though he may not have been obvious, Rollo favored you over everyone else at Noble Bell, which showed in his leniency toward you.

Was it his poker face or his strictness? Maybe his habit of shutting everyone out or covering his face with his handkerchief as if he was disgusted by every living being around him. Fear. That was what you felt when you were in Rollo's presence. As he approached, you drew in a deep breath to prepare yourself for the uneasiness that was about to ensue.

His piercing gaze bored into your soul, causing a wave of uncertainty to wash over you. Your body froze against your will, but you managed to lower your gaze. Much to your relief, Rollo did not stop to speak to you and continued to the room at the end of the hallway.

Upon arriving at the room, he paused briefly at the entrance and turned his head in your direction as you quickly walked away. He was aware of your fear. Despite his efforts, you never comprehended the depths of his feelings for you, but it was for the best. Succumbing to emotions such as love would act as a distraction from his academic and future pursuits. Yet the flame in his heart refused to extinguish.

An unexpected tenderness briefly flashed in his pale green eyes as your form vanished in the distance. Rollo returned his gaze to the classroom interior and rested his hand over his tightened chest. It was a mere crush and naught more. He did not have the time or luxury to love or pursue the selfish desires of his heart. That was all Rollo could tell himself.

"I am a fool."

———————————————

➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland malleus #twst malleus #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #twst rollo #rollo flamm #twisted wonderland rollo #rollo x reader #twst headcanons #twst hcs #twst angst

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Text

ɢʀɪᴇꜰ | ʟᴏʀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴘʜᴇᴜꜱ

GIFs not mine!

Lord Morpheus x Deity!Reader (Goddess of Nature and Music)

summary: In the wake of his own capture, his queen was imprisoned too.

word count: 971

warnings: angst, seriously, this is angsty, blood, Morpheus wants to burn the Waking World to ashes

author’s note: My first Morpheus work, and we’re directly starting with something short and angsty xD I’m so unhappy with how this turned out, but I’m pushing myself to upload these types of works anyway because I’m my biggest critic and all that. Plus, I’m shitty at writing pure angst. But we’ll deal with this for now before we’re gonna turn to the fluffy part of writing for this god of a man <3

»part 2? part 2.«

;

His eyes were trained on the woman lying next to him on the solid, cold ground. His hand outstretched, his fingers twitching desperately in order to reach her. Only mere inches parted them, but the existence of the laughable distance was mocking him in its impossibility to overcome. Not in his current state.

Dry lips moved slowly, forming words without letting a single sound escape; the agony too consuming to mutter a single syllable. Morpheus was not even convinced she could hear him if he would succeed in calling her name, trying to nudge her mind back into consciousness with the power of his voice. A helpless sound was the only audible thing escaping his parted lips.

And then, abnormal darkness engulfed him once more.

—

His returning consciousness let him move his hand again, but instead of finally palpating the silk-like skin of his wife underneath his fingertips, the Lord of Dreams touched icy cold glass. Unsteadily, he opened his distinct blue eyes, which once held the entire universe in them, but now only pictured the void of a pitch-black night sky. He felt so heavy, his mind slow, his body not responding the way it was supposed to. The loss of his powers was something he almost missed because his tired eyes suddenly rested on red droplets scattering the dirty stone floor.

With a silent groan, Morpheus pushed himself up on his bare knees, blinking rapidly to sharpen his eyesight in the dimly lit basement. Suddenly, he wished he had not done it as every single ounce of air was pushed out of his lungs as if he had fallen from a high looming tower and crashed onto the ground. He felt as if he would suffocate in a matter of fleeting moments; his eyes trained motionless on the pool of blood surrounding a body he knew better than his own.

YN’s eyes blinked slowly, her chest rose barely perceptible for a human’s eye, the fingertips of her outstretched arm trying to find a hold of this realm. Morpheus knew she made an effort to anchor herself so Death could come and bring her back into the Dreaming before every ounce of life had left her body. But he could feel with every agonizing piece of his soul how life slowly faded out of her bright shining eyes, forever reminding him of Fiddler’s Green and every single vegetation that grew in their realm. His heart ached heavily in his chest, tears blurring his sight, and both hands were pressed onto the glass, trying to push through it to get to her, to protect her just as she obviously had done for him.

“YN.” His voice broke in the middle of her name, unable to speak it out, to taste every syllable of it on his lips, letting it flood his mind to ease a pain he had never experienced, never had suffered before. The salty lakes his eyes had turned into overflowed, and still, he didn’t dare to move his gaze from her, not even as his capturer stepped into her blood. Raging fury and hatred burned his insides as the human closed his hands around her throat and neck to lift her off the ground, pressing her body onto the sphere, facing lover to lover. Her eyes, which tended to change their colors frequently, stared dull and lifeless into his own, and despite her dying state, YN managed to grant him the sight of the attempt of one of her beautiful smiles, which always illuminated his life and the Dreaming, bringing comfort and joy.

“Poor little thing. You see, she tried to save you, and I cannot let that happen. So… Her pitiful death is practically your wrongdoing.” Morpheus almost did not listen to the echoing voice, instead holding the last remnants of her gaze captured in his, salty crystals flowing over both faces, connecting them in their pain and loss though separated by sorcery. Her lips gently moved, only visible to his eyes, and he started to make out her words as her eyes lost the last specks of life and her body went limp. The man only let her drop to the floor, where she landed in her own blood, shedded in her attempts to protect him as they had promised one another on the night of their wedding under the darkest but most ethereal firmament ever seen by the eyes of humans, deities, and endless.

With burning rage in his now flaming blue irises filled with a darkening void that swallowed every other emotion in its wake, the Lord of Dreams slowly stared up at his jailer, his heart only knowing hatred anymore. He wanted to see this world burn, but in particular, he craved to see this human burn—the one who had robbed him of his wife and queen, the love of his existence. He wanted to hear him beg for mercy. He wanted to listen to his piercing screams filled with agony, and he would not even stop when he was certain the man had learned his lesson before ending his life with his own bare hands. Morpheus would relish in the afterglow of his glorious vengeance before turning his gaze to the rest of this degenerated order to end every single life himself.

And maybe, after the last scream had faded, he would be satisfied to finally mourn the only woman he had ever wanted.

His gaze settled back onto her body after their capturer left him with her; tears continuing to cover his skin and drowning his soul in anguish and torment which didn’t leave him—

Not even after a century of imprisonment and her gentle voice wandering through his mind, repeating her last words to him over and over.

I will find you in my next existence, my love.

;

I kinda don’t like it, but hey, it’s my first time writing for my baby, so that’s okay. Hope y’all enjoyed it anyway. As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated! <3

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uptoolateart · 11 months

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The Miraculous Child

So, in 'Representation', Felix talks refers to ‘the miraculous boy’ a couple times. He also calls Adrien’s conception ‘a miracle’, meaning Adrien too is ‘miraculous’.

The second I heard this, it hit me that the title of the show has had this extra meaning from day one. If we look right back to the start of the series, it has been a story about children and adults, especially parents, some a little overbearing (like Tom) and some neglectful or downright abusive.

The message I take away is - life, bringing a child into the world, is a miracle. Science tells us how it works, but the fact that it works is almost like magic. Yet, there are people out there who fail to see this and don't value the gift they've been granted.

There will be people reading this and thinking, ‘Yeah? So what about Chloe?’

I hear you.

Audrey is a terrible person, and Andre is no better. When he hauls her off at the end of ‘Revolution’ and says he needs to correct his mistakes, he just sends her away with her mother. He’s washing his hands of ‘a problem’, just like he’s done with everything else, e.g. when he resigned as mayor. He walked away from responsibilities, after creating a mess for the people who voted him into office. Likewise, he walked away from his responsibilities as a father.

Does that excuse Chloe's behaviour towards others, especially Marinette? No. Does it explain it? Yes.

So, let's talk about choice, which has been mentioned several times in the series. Chloe has a choice to become just like one of her parents...or to become something better.

Because, if you think about it, at some point in time, Audrey and Andre and even Gabriel were all children. And children aren't just born nasty. They learn nastiness as they grow up. To become who they are today, they had to have started out in a similar position to Chloe, for example. They represent the potential future for their children.

If we saw them as kids, we'd probably see them being mistreated by the adults in their lives and we'd all sympathise with them and hope for their redemption. But we're seeing them as adults and our instinct is to say oh well, too late, they're just awful people. In fact, they could redeem themselves at any point, as demonstrated by Nathalie's turnaround in Season 5. It's just that, the more awful things you've done, the more you have to atone for. Gabriel would have to do a lot - maybe even have a brain change - to be redeemed. But you see my point.

So, at the end of 'Revolution', we see Chloe at a crossroads. She's on that plane, annihilated by her mother, and hiding by herself in a corner. She browses her contacts and hovers over Sabrina's entry...and her face crumples like her heart is breaking with regrets. Oh, it’s sad.

But she passes over Sabrina and moves onto Marinette. She makes one last attempt to bring her down. It’s an act of desperation – redirecting her own suffering onto another, trying to keep control over things when she’s completely out of control of her own life.

Marinette finally puts her in her place, and we see Chloe fall apart in a real way - for the first time ever. I don't know about you, but I found that very uncomfortable viewing. It was a relief to see Marinette stand up for herself, and it needed to happen...but Chloe's despair was also painful. I think all of those were emotions were intended.

Let’s set Thomas aside here. I don't want to get into debates about what was said on Twitter. He’s not the only writer for the show, anyway. I am just speaking about my personal perception of that scene. Chloe gained heaps of sympathy, after she’d been appalling all season, which was pretty powerful.

The fact is…Chloe needed to be put in her place. But that doesn’t mean she deserved everything she went through. Even so...sometimes these moments are necessary and revelatory. They can be the catalyst for great change.

What I mean is – if you're in denial about your position, redirecting your pain onto others, sometimes you need that wakeup call. You need to hit rock bottom in order to start climbing back up into the light. So, when Chloe fell apart, it was painful...but I also saw it as her potential turning point. As long as she maintained her delusions to escape into at school, it was impossible for her to transform - because she refused to see that there was any change needed. But when you have nothing left…that’s when you might begin rebuilding yourself.

Every episode in Season 5 has had multiple meanings. Looking at 'Revolution', when Chloe was akumatised, she trapped her victims in a maze, going round in endless circles (revolutions). Notably a lot of them were adults.

I think if this had happened early on in Season 4, Adrien would have been trapped morosely in that loop with the others. We saw this kind of thing in 'Guiltrip'. So, it spoke volumes about his growth as a character when he was the first one to seek a way out of Chloe's maze. He immediately used his cataclysm and broke a hole, escaping and letting everyone else out. Metaphorically, what he did was break the cycle. If we think about cycles of abuse, this is what the next generation always has the chance to do - to revolt against the past.

it's interesting, then, that when we got to 'Representation', we saw Cat Noir completely lose it with his father. He needed to let it all out...but he was in danger of going too far...and deep down, he knew it. His worst nightmare was of losing all control, to the point of letting his rage destroy everything he loved. Unconsciously, he's well aware that he runs the risk of becoming like his father. However, his complete breakdown, begging his father to take his miraculous to make it all stop, tells us he won't become like his father - because his conscience is too strong. He wants to break that cycle.

Felix has also done some bad things - but he's begun the journey of redeeming himself and changing. He too is trying to break out of that cycle so he doesn't become like his father.

Kagami is embracing her passionate side, rejecting the coldness and isolation her mother has attempted to breed into her, no doubt due to her own upbringing once upon a time.

And I think there’s definite potential for Chloe to do the same. There’s no reason for anyone to remain caught in these patterns. The trick is to recognise the pattern is there in the first place - because you can’t break free of something if you don’t know you’re imprisoned. At the end of Revolution, I think Chloe finally saw her prison, saw that she was already trapped in her own maze, going round in circles. Now it’s up to her to pull an Adrien and cataclysm the bars that hold her in.

Because like Felix said, over and over – each child is miraculous simply for existing. And miracles should be cherished.

PLEASE NO POST-REPRESENTATION SPOILERS IN COMMENTS :)

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bunny-yan · 1 year

Note

i love your writing and characters so much, like your ideas are too interesting! and i love the way you write spitfire mc's, the ones that are more pissy about their situation than scared lolol

If you're still taking requests could you possibly do a third part to the hero? i love that guy tasman, and if you wanted to, include some non-con? i just feel like at this point he's gotta be up to his wits end of being patient, especially if his little captive is still ogling the window like they're more interested in those trees than talking to him, or even still thinking of trying something sneaky.

keep up the amazing work, i hope all your bubble baths are very relaxing and your water is always crisp

awwww! thanks so much for the kind words. i do like writing reactions in different ways and i don't know if it's just me but i find it much more satisfying when a yan is forced to bend you to his will, ya know? don't want to make his job too easy ;)

TW: non-con, more lime than lemon, violence, domestic abuse, threats, mentions nudity, abs NO minors —

He was sitting on the bed, head resting on clasped hands, watching you. It would’ve made you uncomfortable, but then again, air existed. It was nothing to get upset about.

You were pretending he didn’t exist and it was going pretty well considering his anger issues could destroy the world if they went unchecked. But he was sitting there, silently drilling holes into your body for the last couple of hours.

He’d made attempts to appease you, attempts that had failed the moment he tried because he didn’t exist.

Food would appear out of thin air and you would look at it before turning your head and continuing to gaze out of the window.

Flies would buzz around your ears. You weren’t sure how they got inside considering the window was sealed shut with magic, but you swatted them away nonetheless.

You didn’t turn your head at the sound of his fist balling, sounding as if he broke every bone in each of his fingers. You steeled yourself so you wouldn’t flinch away or react. You wouldn’t give him the time of day.

“Is this tantrum meant to get underneath my skin? You should know better than to test my patience. Acting like a rebellious child won’t achieve the results you expect.”

A rebellious child. What an amazing thing to call the lover whose attention you’re so desperate for. As for getting underneath his skin, his reaction proved this was an effective method to get him angry. It isn’t like you hadn’t known before. Tasman hated being ignored.

You’d pretended to give him the silent treatment after a mini dispute when the two of you were arguing when you were younger and he’d followed you around the village, asking if you were angry with him repeatedly past the disappearance of the sun. His young worried face was too pitiful to ignore, but you sensed something ominous the longer you refused to speak to him.

The two of you grew up together. If he though you didn’t know about the things he liked and disliked, he was sorely mistaken.

Getting comfortable as you gazed out in the distance to view the vast forest beyond the city made him clench his jaw so tightly you thought he’d break it. You had to tell yourself not to smile, but it was hard to resist a slight quirk at the edge of your lips.

“I am trying my best to give you what you want. As long as you don’t ask for ridiculous things, I can award the world to you. Please, just talk to me.”

As if your freedom was a menial desire. You no longer had the ability to choose what you ate, what you wore, whether or not you went outside, all things you’d surely taken for granted before you were whisked away to this sacred cell of his. It might’ve seemed ridiculous to argue about what you decided to wear or whether or not you were going to eat, but at the end of the day they were the only options you had.

Your basic liberty was seen as a luxury, as something that only he could grant if you were on your best behavior and it made you want to gouge his eyes out for acting as if he was being so benignant.

A small huff was all you let out in response to his words, telling yourself not to let him anger you, you tried thinking of what you would do if you got the chance to start over. Would you live on a farm? Maybe marry and help your significant other with their responsibilities whether they be a restaurant owner with an inn or a blacksmith that managed swords for new and upcoming adventurers. You didn’t think you could be a scholar. Not that your intelligence was inadequate, on the contrary. It would’ve been your first choice in terms a well-paying job if you weren’t afraid of feeling suffocated in the offices scholars tended to inhabit.

You had enough of enclosed spaces. Working on a farm could provide the fresh air you desperately yearned for and smithing while running a shop would provide you with plenty of opportunities to meet people from all sorts of backgrounds. Both would be hard work. Especially if you compared the leisurely role as the hero’s hostage where you could be waited on hand and foot if you so desired, but you’d take anything if it meant a life beyond his obsessive desperation.

Knocked out of your daydream by the sound of footsteps coming closer to where you were, you tensed when he sat beside you, his body pressing into your side as he begged for your eyes.

“Can’t you see that I’m doing my best?” His hand tentatively touched your back before he slowly wrapped it around waist, eyes sliding slowly to your lips and then your neck.

How long had it been since you’d allowed him near you. You were hell bent on scratching at him like a feral animal whenever he came near, both with your hands and words so he’d wanted to give you space to soothe your anger, but the longer he kept his distance, the more you required from him.

Shying away from his touch when he wanted to embrace you, his eyes when the two of you took meals together, his words when he professed his love for you. It was a wonder that you let him as close as you did in this moment.

Pulling you closer, he whispered, “I’m trying.” before placing lips on your neck, bordering on your collarbone, as his hands squeezed your side.

His desire for you hadn’t waned in the slightest.

Tasman believed after so many lives and time apart his desperate craving would have been relieved, but it had only grown stronger. He was plagued with thoughts of your body writhing underneath his, wondering how your skin would feel as his rough hands fought to be gentle. How each and every inch of you would taste, whispering how he’d take his time to memorize everything, from the way you moved to the sounds you would make.

How you would look…

Head snapping to him, the hopeful sentiment splintered at the sight of utter revulsion in your eyes.

Shielding his broken heart with anger, he grabbed the collar of your shirt before you could move away and pinned you against the window.

“What are you hiding?” he asked, voice seething as he regarded you suspiciously.

You were frozen in shock, unsure where this outburst came from. One moment, he was attempting seduce you, the next he was angry, practically choking you as he shoved you against the magic enforced glass.

“You’ve never been this quiet and the minute I get close you try to move away, did someone give you something to leave me? A key?”

He began pulling at your clothes, shocking you further as the fabric began to rip away, beginning to expose every inch of your body.

“A magic circle?”

His accusations continued and despite you breaking your silence to yell for him to stop, pushing him away, and holding on to the clothes he began to remove, he refused until your clothes were in a tattered heap on the floor.

Shielding your nudity, you glared at him, his cold gaze regarded you closely.

“You’re crazy.” you told him, trying to keep your voice from wavering from the sheer embarrassment and shame you felt from not being able to stop him.

He was the hero. Your strength was comparable to a grain of sand if he was your opponent, but the rationalization didn’t make you feel any better.

His eyes seemed to soften at your words, becoming more focused but not completely losing the haze they confined.

“I’m sorry,” he began, “But you have to understand my hesitancy to trust you given your actions in the past.” His eyes made you shiver at the way they roamed across your figure, looking unapologetic as studied you, eyes lingering in the areas you shielded.

“Get out.” you said through gritted teeth, unable to shake the ugly discomfort in your gut.

You needed him to leave. He had to go if you were going to feel comfortable and safe.

“This is my room as well.”

“Get. Out.”

“I understand that my reaction may have been a bit rough, but there is no reason for you to be upset to this degree. If you had simply talked to me, it wouldn’t have come to this.”

Standing up, you couldn’t stop yourself from getting into his face as you yelled, “Get out, you asshole!”

A hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as lips were suddenly on yours. You struggled against his hold, momentarily forgetting to shield yourself as your fists beat against his body, attempting to shove him off of you or arch your body away from his kiss, but he followed you.

Your voice was muffled by the tongue that attempted to slither its way past your defenses, feeling hot as it battled your for dominance yet strangely like iron when you attempted to crush your teeth around it. Pain reverberated through your skull and Tasman took you momentary docility as an opportunity to take things further.

Pulling you to the bed, he continued to kiss you passionately, flinging away his gloves as his hand roamed from your chest to harshly squeezing your ass before rubbing your legs and stroking your inner thigh.

You felt him smile in the kiss when he felt your body trembling, your glare slowly melding with fear the longer his assault continued without pause.

When he finally backed away, you were breathing hard and in an attempt to catch your breath, your chest heaving from the lack of oxygen.

Tasman smiled, satisfied with the way you responded, he began to slide a wandering hand up and up your leg. Fingers calloused from continuous monster subjugation, you flinched away from his unrepentant touch before your hand intercepted his before he got too close.

“Tasman, stop. Get off of me.”

Looking into your eyes, you wanted to shrivel at the sight of his glare.

Why did you continue to push him away‽

Gripping your forearms, he forced them to the bed as he got in your face.

“Is there some other bastard you’d prefer to be doing this with?”

What?

“I didn’t think to have the barrier react if you got too close to someone else. I didn’t think I’d have to worry about anyone from our village unless you’d managed to attract some useless noble up here.”

“There’s no one.” you said, deciding against lying and saying you did have a secret lover in case he burned the capital down looking for them.

“You’re lying.” he said, squeezing your arms tighter as he glared at you.

You were tired of hearing things like that from him of all people.

“How am I supposed to meet someone if you keep me locked in this room‽” you shouted, struggling beginning anew. If it bothered him, he didn’t say anything about it.

“You’d find a way.” he said, releasing one of your arms to caress your face. “You simply love torturing me.”

His thumb brushed against your lip, a hidden desire springing to life as his eyes met yours.

“If you’re telling the truth, I can’t understand why you’re being obstinate about this.”

Leaning closer, he brought his lips to the space just below your ear as he placed a chaste kiss there. “I simply want to make the person I love feel good.” he said, voice taking on a sultry tone.

If it had been three lifetimes ago, you would’ve considered it.

If it’d been the year before he barged into your escape and confined you after, you might’ve considered it.

Even as every piece of your heart rejected him, your soul was desperately pleading for you to forgive him, to take this opportunity to climb into his arms and love him how you were always meant to, but you wouldn’t.

You wouldn’t disgrace the you who’d discovered what heartbreak was after a first, second, and third failed love. You wouldn’t betray the you whose hands had grown old and wrinkled, waiting for something that would never come. You wouldn’t forgive him as long as he continued to act as if he had done nothing wrong while demanding you give him your everything, everything you would’ve happily handed over if he’d considered what it felt like to be repeatedly betrayed by the very person your soul constantly cried out for.

“I don’t ever want to see you again.”

He froze, fear coiling around your insides at the expression on his face that you couldn’t see. His hand loosened around your forearm, gripping the bed, you thought he was finally coming to his senses before you heard the bed creak.

The suffocating weight of his magic presence hit you a moment later, making you want to gag, but a hand clamped around your mouth, forcing your head to the bed before you could turn over and dry heave.

“Lover, how cruel.”

He looked at you with an expression that you couldn’t distinguish as anger or sorrow, but it was terrifying.

His mouth made its way to your neck, kissing you sensually before his teeth buried themselves into your skin, drawing blood and eliciting a muffled scream from you at the vicious way his teeth pierced your body.

Your hands tried to push him away, both wrapping around his wrist to uncover his hand from your mouth, but he ignored your attempts. Turning your head to the side, his ran his tongue across the teeth marks he made, pouring enough magic into the wound so it would stop bleeding, but not enough to get rid of the mark or alleviate the pain you felt.

“I love you.” he sighed, his hand coming up as he caressed the side of your body, resting before his thumb caressed your nipple.

You gaped at him with petrified eyes, unable to move at the cold gaze he stared you down with as he continued to press chaste kisses into your neck, trailing to your chest.

He removed his hand from your mouth, using both to focus on teasing your body.

“T-Tasman,” you began in a quiet voice, but the look in his eyes silenced you.

“Shhhh.”

Tipping your head up by your chin, he pecked you on the lips before placing a kiss on your nose and forehead.

“I’m just going to show you how much I love and I want peace and quiet, okay?”

Memories of a barn flooded your mind as you thought back to your younger days when you had last tried to use the silent treatment with Tasman. Bruised hands held together above your head, hay prickling your skin, and heavy breathing from above.

“Not a single word, lover.”

Tasman had never reacted well to the silent treatment.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere male #ask #gn reader #yan!tasman #yandere hero

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undead-supernova · 3 months

Text

I'll Pay the Price, You Won't.

Miss Heartbreak

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

Masterlist

This chapter is based off of Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince by Taylor Swift and I'm starting to realize just how in deep I am in the lore and storytelling of her music. See if you can find my easter eggs, hm?

plot: no cameras catch my muffled cries...you are the only one who seems to care...this is a fight that some day we're gonna win

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: slut shaming, body image insecurities, public shaming, crying

easter egg count: 43

wc: 5.3k

When you first realized you were in love with him, it was a Saturday night. You weren’t even with him. In fact, you were at a house party with some of your best friends. They weren’t famous—these three girls were in college, just the way you should’ve been. You’d met them at a dive bar in Pittsburg while touring.

There was a distinct memory of watching these girls walk in, talking about their English courses and the ten-page research papers on the feminist lens of the works of Octavia Butler, rape culture in a novel called Waiting for the Barbarians, and how the third girl was doing some deep dive into the coded lesbianism in Gertrude Stein’s Tender Buttons. You approached them, desperate to know more about their class. Their studies. Their college experiences.

Desperate to know more about the life you gave away when your career blew up three days before moving into your dorm room.

They knew who you were, but they didn’t care to squeal or ask for pictures. Instead, they motioned for you to join them and started to complain about their shared Rhetorical Analysis class. And after a few Fireball shots, some poor attempts at karaoke, and loud debates about Jane Austen and Emily Brontë that nearly got you kicked out, you were solidified.

But there you were, at a college house party after flying out just to see them. You were in drastically different makeup than you were used to. In short, you were basically in Eddie Munson cosplay. Your friends had dressed you up, giggling and adding more charcoal eye shadow than you desired. Becky, Mary, and Este swore it would make you feel better. That you’d dance the night away without a care in the world.

But the couch was where you stayed the whole night, a mimosa (filled with more prosecco than orange juice) in your hands as you watched life exist around you. You were pretending to be a normal twenty-two year old girl. You were pretending that you could have love affairs with anyone you wanted to and if your heart got broken every single time, it wouldn’t be such a big deal to anyone outside of your friends that loved you.

And he would be there, too.

With your head to rest on his shoulder, listening to him talk about his Dungeons and Dragons game he hosted with the rest of the band when they were tucked away in hotel rooms. They were too big to go out without everyone and their mother following them, so they found a way to escape.

(People thought they did drugs and partied. And, at the start of the band, they did. Eddie had told you about having a coke problem in the beginning and Gareth, Jeff, and Grant trashing hotel rooms. Ronnie getting the cops called on her house regularly for the outrageous parties she hosted. But it died out after about a year when they realized how tiring it was to just be on all the time. They went to parties sometimes, but now they really looked forward to smoking a few joints and playing a fantasy game.)

In this fictional scenario, they’d congregate in the communal rooms at their dorm. They’d buy a few pizzas and beer, remembering to get the garlic twists of course, and play for six hours.

And you would lean over to his ear, brushing your lips against his ear and say, “I’m in love with you.”

As soon as it fell into your imagination, you were startled to the point of springing up and running to the bathroom, hyperventilating in the mirror. The rest of your night had been spent with your friends cuddling you in their shared apartment until you could calm down.

“It’s too soon for this!” you exclaimed. “It’s too soon for me to fall in love.”

They said that it was fine. That you were allowed to love him. That the chance at love was worth the bullshit. You could survive this, even if he didn’t feel the same. Maybe you would be able to connect better if you just told him how you felt.

But this was only a month after you started seeing each other.

Only a week before you two were caught in public together.

Only a week before the whole world had an opinion.

“I can’t believe we’re out at a restaurant in Manhattan of all places.”

“On a date,” he noted.

“On a date.”

“Oh, and happy four-month anniversary,” he said while holding up his piece of bread, leaning over to tap yours with it.

“Ah, yes. How could I forget?” you teased before stuffing the slice in your mouth, closing your eyes as you became overwhelmingly calmed by the taste of butter melting on your tongue.

It was super late on a Saturday, one of the only times you could get away with having a private dinner without the threat of paparazzi and lingering glances. You felt fancy, with a sparkly silver dress on, all short with thin straps and a small slit at the thigh. Tall, sparkly silver heels that made you nearly the same height as him. A fluffy pink faux fur coat sitting on the back of the chair (that Eddie had spent the whole drive here running his hands through). Pink nails to match, already chipped from your nervous picking.

Eddie was dressed beautifully, wearing a silk white button down. Simple black blazer and slacks. His signature boots. Those rings. That necklace. Hair up in a bun with bangs and stray hairs framing his face. The only real nontraditional part of his ensemble was a thin layer of black eyeliner adorning his eyelids and waterline, with mascara to match.

Oh, and a coat of lipgloss, lipgloss that he borrowed from you, that was now lining the rim of his wine glass.

“Do you like it?” he asked. “The wine, I mean.”

You looked down at the burgundy liquid you were absentmindedly swirling. You had no clue what that did for the drink or if it was just to look fancy, but it was something you saw your parents do growing up. You decided to take a crack at being an adult tonight, just to see how it felt.

“Yeah, it’s nice. Thank you.”

He nodded, but you could tell that he was still nervous about the whole thing. You couldn’t blame him. Being out for an official date together in the heart of a city with nearly nine million people who could ruin it at any second was quite a heavy burden. There was a part of you that feared that you had become a burden in the last four months.

Enough of that, you tried to tell yourself.

“However,” you added. “I do have to confess that I have absolutely no clue what the difference is between this and the stuff I get at the grocery store.”

Eddie let out a sigh and a breathy laugh. You wondered how long he’d been holding it in. “Well, that’s a relief because I was literally sitting here thinking the exact same thing.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Are you serious?”

He kept laughing. “Yes! I thought I was the only one!”

“No, this is literally exactly how I feel whenever I have dinner with some of the label execs,” you exclaimed. “They order all this like crazy expensive wine, and I have to just sit there and be like,” you raised the pitch of your voice, “Oh, wow. This is sooo cool. So good. What year is it? That must cost a fortune.”

Eddie nodded. “Me, too! And it’s like: Dude, seriously? I could get shit I like better than this at, like, Trader Joe’s or Target. Fuck, even Walmart.”

You giggled as you continued to nod with him. “Yes, yes, yes! I genuinely don’t get it. Everyone is so pretentious, I swear.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Eddie raised his glass. “Fuck ‘em.”

You grinned. “Fuck ‘em!” you agreed, clinking your glass with his before you took a hearty sip. Finally took a second glance around the room.

“I really thought there’d be more people here,” you observed. “Isn’t this, like, a popular restaurant? I hear celebs love this place.”

“I maaaay have bought out the empty tables,” Eddie admitted, looking sheepish. “I didn’t want our first official date to be bombarded with people we know or even ones we don’t. I wanted to make sure I could focus.”

A grin met your lips. “You’re a sweetheart, you know that?”

“That’s you, baby. That’s all you.”

The playful dinner conversation continued with a whole three course meal plus dessert. You came alive in public for once, talking in silly voices and laughing as loud as you wanted. Like you were best friends. Like you were lovers. Holding Eddie’s hand at the table without having to worry about cell phones. No one here was able to take away what was yours.

Despite feeling full, you couldn’t help but nibble on some more of the bread. Your personal trainer, Mary, forbid you from eating any while you were gearing up for another album release and tour. But you were starting to care a little bit less. And she wasn’t here. Eddie was, pushing the basket towards you.

But then the strangest thing happened as the waiter took your dinner plate.

As he turned to leave, you looked past him and saw that the other five occupied tables in the restaurant were…staring. And…so were their waiters? Had everyone finally started staring or were you only now noticing? But you would’ve noticed before…

They were all looking from their phones to you and then back again. The hushed whispers were getting a bit louder, even catching Eddie’s ears. He turned his head to look but was distracted when his phone started ringing.

Gareth.

“Take it,” you encouraged. Eddie raised an eyebrow. “It’s probably important.”

He nodded. “Hey,” he said as he answered. “No, I’m on an incredibly important date, remember?”

As you spread butter over the last slice, you couldn’t help but giggle when Eddie looked up at you with a quick wink and a smile meant only for you.

But then his eyebrows narrowed.

“What’re you doing watching cable?”

And a part of you wished you could hear the other side of the conversation when you watched Eddie’s neutral expression falling into anger.

“They what?”

“It’s fucking SNL. They haven’t had a good run in years. I don’t think anyone even watches—”

You noticed him get cut off before shaking his head.

“What? Why the fuck do people care?”

“Fuck…yeah, okay… Sure, whatever…” He sighed, pinching his nose in frustration. “No, I’m not mad at you. Promise… I’m sorry for being a dick. I just hate people, I swear…” A quick nod. “Thanks for understanding and letting me know. Love you, dude. Okay, talk later.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked as he immediately started searching for something on his phone. “Is everything okay?”

Eddie paused, looking away from his phone to bring his attention back to you.

His expression held something resembling an apology.

“The guys are watching TV back at the hotel and, uh, they were watching SNL…”

“Okay?”

“Apparently they did a skit about you.”

Your stomach dropped as you let his words sink in.

It was one thing to have random people on the internet give you shit. It was another thing entirely for a long-running, highly known television show to have grown adults portray you and spend four to six minutes making fun of you. Especially when you’d performed there merely two months ago.

“Is it…” you trailed, almost unable to speak.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Yeah, it’s bad.”

“It’s on YouTube already?” He nodded. “Let me see.”

“Are you sure you want to watch it?”

You nodded. “I should know what’s going on. Everyone’s already staring at us,” you stated, gesturing behind him.

When Eddie looked back at every nameless face watching you, every single person looked away. Like he commanded the room with his presence. Like he had the power to change the world with just one stare.

He had changed your world with just one glance.

Sighing, Eddie clicked on the video, holding it between you two on the table.

“I decided to go on The Bachelorette to prove that I haven't dated everyone,” a woman said with a huge grin, mimicking the way you smiled. "And to get new inspiration because I need to sell my next album. I'm sure this will be fun."

Some new addition to the cast tried to imitate your posture. Your voice. Your everything. She was acting like you were some ditsy girl. Did people really think of you like this? Is this how the cast and crew saw you when you were there?

A fake announcer's voice said, “Here are the men and women chosen for tonight.”

The woman impersonating you smiled even wider in a comedic fashion, making fun of the way you, what, didn't ever give a negative reaction? The camera turned to watch everyone file in.

The different men and women of the SNL cast rotated, pretending to be people you’d allegedly been with. But most of them were wrong. When you were rumored to be dating these people, friend or not, they left, either from wanting that clout or being unable to handle the noise. All you had wanted were real friendships, real relationships. But being burnt at the stake came with the possibility of flammable embers.

One after the other, impression after impression, they were reminding you of everyone you’d lost.

And was that Jacob Elordi pretending to be…Christopher Briney?

(You met Christopher once at the Emmy’s, having taken one fucking photo together before he was whisked away by his team. At the time, you had only wished he would notice you before he got a girlfriend…)

“We're missing one guy...where is he?” the announcer said.

Mikey Day popped in with a smoke machine behind him and some copyright free rock music playing, wearing a curly wig and pretending to be Eddie. The audience lost their minds, erupting in applause and laughter at the sheer mention of him. He was immediately stereotyped as a punk stoner who only pretended to listen to you talk while playing his guitar.

“Hey, babe,” he said, trying to mimic Eddie’s voice. “What’s up?”

You looked over at the real Eddie who looked less than impressed. Less than affected by someone trying to make fun of him. You wished you could say the same for yourself.

“I CHOOSE HIM FOR MY NEXT ALBUM!” the woman shouted before ripping up the roses and walking over. However, she turned and pointed at the others. "Save them for me in case I get bored.”

As she grabbed onto "Eddie's" arm and professed her love, it was clear that he wasn't paying attention. "Are you even listening to me?" she shouted.

“Nah, baaabe,” he said and then realized his “mistake”. Cue laughter. “I’m totes paying attention.” Laughter. “Just practicing this sick riff for the band.” He raised his guitar before turning it the other way. “Does it look cool this way, babe?” Laughter ensued as he pretended to play his guitar right-handed. “Do I look metal as hell?”

“Totally, babe,” the woman said, giggling. “You’re so hot.”

“Ah, babe, thanks. I know it’s been three minutes but this is forever, babe.”

When the skit ended, Eddie turned it off and shoved his phone in his pocket.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay,” you said, trying to tell yourself more than him. “It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Did anyone see what was happening? That this was starting to get out of hand? It was like nobody gave a shit, nobody cared that you were human. Yes, you were privileged and had money, you knew that. You grew up fucking poor, hit even worse with the 2008 recession, hardly ever recovering.

You always acknowledged your privilege, always made it a point to give it away to people who needed it more than you. Provided for your family so your parents didn’t have to go back to working at the sawmill and being fucking tour guides for next to nothing at Graceland. (The fucking irony.) Donated constantly to animal shelters, women’s shelters, LGBTQIA+ youth organizations, etc. etc.

But no one would know any of that because you kept that secret. Kept it hidden to be the face of your label, with a shiny pageant smile. You were now the punching bag, the reflection of society that every YouTuber did deep dives on and now SNL was taking a shot at.

When would it end?

“Are you?” Eddie asked, causing you to come out of the fog. “‘Cause your hands are shaking.”

You looked down, realizing he was right. “I—”

Before you could say anything, your own phone buzzed. Looking down, you noticed a text from Becky. It was a link to a video on Twitter or X or whatever the fuck it was called now. Her text read,

Look how delusional the internet is. I don’t care about this crap but I wanted to make sure you knew what was going on before you got bamboozled or something. Also, fuck that SNL skit. Love you.

“There’s more,” you murmured, looking up at Eddie’s concerned expression.

“Fuck.”

He stood up immediately and pulled over the chair next to you. He sat and leaned in, just as deep into this as you were. You didn’t hesitate to click on the link. It was just another band-aid to rip off anyways.

The caption said:

are gareth ronnie and grant next? lmao eddie shouldn’t have gone anywhere near her. the vibes are soooo off

You heard Eddie scoff as he read it.

The video attached was of you and Jeff walking around New York City that very morning, laughing together. You nudged his arm, animatedly talking.

You knew what had happened, distinctly remembering that the conversation was about Eddie. Jeff had been teasing you, telling you that he knew you were disgustingly in love with him and that you needed to just say it before you lost your minds. You thought it was funny, so you jokingly nudged his arm and pretended to threaten violence. That was it. Nothing else happened.

“No!” you exclaimed, wild-eyed as you turned to Eddie. “No, Jeff and I went to get this chocolate mousse at this little bistro we both like. We told you before we left, remember? I swear it was the truth. We were literally talking about you. Eddie, I—”

“It’s all good, sweetheart,” Eddie interrupted, kissing your temple four times. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s okay. I believe you. I know you’d never do anything like that.” You felt yourself breathe again. “Besides, Jeff has a crush on our tech manager anyways.”

That made you chuckle for a second, but you felt yourself deflate, putting a hand on your forehead as tears trickled down your cheeks. “I’m scared. I don’t like this, Eddie.”

“Me neither.”

Before you could say anything else, your waiter was approaching the table.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” the waiter asked, hands politely clasped in front of him. You avoided his gaze, embarrassment flooding your system. There was something irrational telling you that he would tell the internet about your breakdown, expose you for your reaction.

But when you glanced at him, he actually looked…concerned.

“Yeah, could we get the check, please?” Eddie asked in a hushed voice, running his fingers down your back. “We’re gonna need a minute, but I just wanna get that out of the way.”

“Of course, Mr. Munson.” he responded before turning to you. “I can take that plate for you if you’d like?”

“Oh, yes, sorry,” you said, sniffling.

Without thinking, you moved your hand to grab your bread plate, accidentally knocking your glass on the table. You watched as the wine seeped into the white cloth, staining the fabric.

Eddie was quick to grab the glass before it shattered on the floor.

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, taking your napkin and trying to blot the stain. You kept glancing up at the waiter through your tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That’s so rude of me. I’m so sorry.”

The waiter shook his head. “It’s okay, ma’am. We have a hundred more in the back. This happens all the time.”

“Here,” you said, shaking your head as you rummaged through your purse. When you found your wad of cash, you handed him a one-hundred-dollar bill. “Take this. For you, not the restaurant. I’m so sorry.”

He gaped at you, looking down at the bill before looking back up. “Um, thank you,” he said, breaking his customer service voice before taking the cash from you. “I’ll get everything sorted for you right away.”

“Sweetheart.”

“I want to leave,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Can we leave?”

You looked over at Eddie who was already standing and grabbing your coat.

“Yeah, baby,” he said softly. “I’ll pay up front. Come on, let’s go.”

But it wasn’t really going to be that simple, was it?

As soon as you reached the front doors, James and Scott, your personal bodyguard, were stopping you.

“Guys, uh, we got a situation,” Scott said, mainly looking at you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“There’s a fuck ton of paparazzi out there.”

“And that’s the only way we can get to the car,” James added.

You wanted to look at Eddie, but you didn’t want him knowing just how scared you were. He was so stoic and strong, always being able to shrug everything off. It was like he was born for this.

Maybe you weren’t.

“Okay,” Eddie said, putting his shoulders back before grabbing your hand. His grasp was firm with a gentle squeeze that left your heart soaring despite the fear. He nudged your arm, causing you to look up. “Ready, sweetheart?”

You nodded, looking back at James and Scott, tear stains still adorning your cheeks. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

A gasp left your mouth as the doors opened and a swarm of people with cameras crowded around you. Flashes and red recording lights and cell phones. Screams, gasps. Some fans tried to catch your attention the best they could, but their voices were drowned out by the incessant vultures. James and Scott were on either side of you, pushing people out of the way.

But it did nothing. It only sprung more tears.

Paparazzi shouted your name. Shouted Eddie’s.

“What did you think of the SNL skit?”

“Any comment on the cheating allegations?”

“Is this thing between you serious?”

They were all variations of the same thing.

Except for one voice that stood out from the rest.

“Hey, why are you crying?”

You turned, seeing a teenage girl who looked barely fourteen, maybe fifteen, with rainbow braces and friendship bracelets in her hand. She stood next to who you presumed to be her mother, over by the curb. Set apart from the hive.

Despite your better judgment, you nudged Scott and walked over to her quickly.

“I want to talk to her,” you told him loudly, disconnecting your hand from Eddie’s.

Scott nodded. “You got maybe a minute and a half before things get buckwild.”

“She’s got this,” Eddie said. You looked at him and smiled.

Thank you, you mouthed before rushing over to the girl.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Just got a lot going on, hun,” you said softly, trying to smile but your tears clouded your vision. Your only hope was that the sight wouldn’t scar her for the rest of her life. “What’s your name?”

“Caroline,” she said before handing you the bracelets. “I made these for you.”

Her mom placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to look up. “She’s been keeping them with her just in case she ever saw you in the city. She’s a big, big fan.”

You could only try to smile again, studying the colors Caroline chose to represent your last few albums. Light blue to represent your self-titled album. A soft sage for your second, “Tetris”. Sparkling gold for your last album, “Acacia My Dear”. There were even one or two that had references to inside jokes shared between you and the fans.

“These are beautiful,” you told her, immediately rolling them onto your wrist. “Thank you so much, Caroline.”

“Could I get a picture of you two?” her mom asked.

“Hey,” Scott interrupted. “Sorry, we gotta cut this short. They’re pressin’ in on us.”

You nodded, looking back at Caroline. “Thank you so much, Caroline. This means everything to me,” you said honestly. Without thought, you gave her a tight hug. “You just made everything better,” you whispered in her ear.

When you pulled back, her mom grabbed your hand. “You’re doing great things,” she said, softly squeezing your hand. “Don’t let those bastards win.”

Before you could even process her words or thank her, Scott was pulling you back to Eddie. Scott seemed a little softer, blonde hair still peppering with gray. He was from Tennessee, like you, his accent just noticeable enough to give him away. James seemed to contrast him, with thick muscles, frown lines across his forehead, and a bald head. Oh, and did you mention that he was a hardass from Ireland?

Your grasp on Eddie’s hand tightened with every passing second before you were finally enclosed in the confines of the black van.

The walk to the car was only, what, two minutes? Three?

But it felt like forever.

The waterworks continued, wracking your body with sobs you didn’t realize were just brewing behind the façade you were able to put up on any given occasion.

Scott took the driver’s seat while James took shotgun. You could just barely make out what they were whispering.

“Fucking vampires, the lot of ‘em,” James said, shaking his head.

“Them two deserve better,” Scott replied. “They’re just fucking kids.”

Eddie pulled you into his side, making sure you were hidden from any and all intrusion even if the windows were severely tinted.

You had an urge, however miniscule it felt, to go on your Instagram story and be bitter about it. Tell SNL to fuck off and remind them how sexist and gross it was to put you in a sketch just to make fun of your dating history when there were men around you who ran through women like sport and talked about them like each one was a momentary fad.

But you knew what would happen. You would be considered overreacting. You’d be a woman scorned and laughed at for caring so much despite the rest of the fucking internet seeming to care more.

So, you did nothing. Said nothing.

You merely curled yourself further into Eddie and fought the urge to have a mental breakdown.

“We’re getting out of the city,” he whispered. “Back to your place.”

“It’s a long drive,” you mumbled.

“I don’t mind. Really. We made the drive out here, remember?” Eddie shook his head. “Speaking of, I’m sorry. I should’ve chosen somewhere more secluded.”

“You shouldn’t have to. We shouldn’t have to.”

He leaned back, tilting your chin up to make eye contact with you. “I want you to feel safe.”

“But I want us to be normal people going to a normal restaurant and have a normal date.”

“We’ll win this fight, okay?” he said, tracing his thumb along your cheeks as the tears came and went. “They have to get bored soon enough, yeah? TikTok will move on to its next viral bullshit anytime now. We just have to wait it out.”

“It’ll just go away?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Both you and Eddie let out a sigh. “Listen, okay? Just listen to me. We’ll figure this out. I’ll tell the world to fuck off. Just give me the word and I’ll do it.”

“That’ll just egg them on.”

He kissed your wet cheek. Pulling back, you could see the color return to his face as he smiled. “I could always pull an Ozzy.”

That got a giggle out of you, a few snot bubbles awkwardly falling down your lips. Eddie didn’t mind, simply grabbing a tissue to help wipe it away.

“Absolutely do not do that,” you said with a sigh, grabbing another one.

“Then I won’t. But I’m here in front of you. I want you. I need you.”

You nodded, your eyes glassy and wild as you tried to stop crying.

“Alright, babe?” he exaggerated, imitating Mikey Day. “I’m metal as hell, babe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. It was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. You looked up at him, watching a playful grin meet his lips.

“Oh, yeah, babe,” you played along, still wiping your tears. “You’re sooooo hot, babe.”

Eddie nearly suffocated you with another hug, rapidly kissing the top of your head. You couldn’t help but giggle again, feeling some weight lifting off of you. For the first time, you had someone in your life who was blocking out the noise.

“You know, the jokes aren’t even funny,” he said. “I don’t know why they’re making fun of a right-handed guitar. Jimi Hendrix had one and that guy’s a legend.”

“I think the point was to make you look dumb by playing it upside down.”

“Mmmm, I don’t think so, babe,” he teased. “I’m, like, sooooo smart.”

“You’re soooo right, babe.” “Okay, I’m cutting us off. I just know we won’t stop talking like this.”

The laughter died out, silence ensuing. Eddie was fiddling with your bracelets, his touch settling the storm in your stomach.

“Why did you walk over to that girl?”

You thought about her, Caroline, and how she was the only one outside to ask if you were okay. All she wanted was to give you bracelets. Had been keeping them with her just in case she ever saw you. Fuck, if that wasn’t one of the most shocking things you’d ever heard from a fan. It was kind. And when she did see you, she cared more about how you were feeling.

“She asked me why I was crying,” you said. “She actually cared. It meant something to me.”

“You really love the fans, don’t you?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

The night seemed to settle into comfortable silliness, ending with pints of Ben & Jerry’s and the start of another TV show for you two to binge. You settled into his side with fuzzy socks and old pajamas from before all of the bullshit ensued. They were probably ten years old, from the thrift store down the street from your childhood home. The hand-me-downs that never seemed to get holes, the ones that always seemed to save you from the brink of madness.

Eddie was donning a similar outfit, just with a few holes here and there. Baseball tee with a logo for his old D&D group, Hellfire Club, back in high school. Some of the lines were starting to crack, the red fading into something nearly blood orange.

It was comforting to know that Eddie was able to shrug it all off. That he was able to guide you through this fear and loathing. But some part of you wondered how long that could last. All the heat and dismissal and scrutiny and humiliation. All the assumptions and poking.

Because if he wanted to do this, if he was in it for the long haul, this was going to be how it was for the rest of your careers, for the rest of your lives. He wasn’t going to be able to shrug everything off. What happens when he’s poked at? When he’s the one in your shoes?

And as you laid there at 2am with Eddie fast asleep next to you, you were starting to wonder about yourself. Because if you wanted to do this, if you wanted to follow wherever he led, you were going to have to endure. Watching him sleeping soundly, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could last.

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