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turtletaubwrites · 1 month

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Misty Eyes ~ Part 3

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. MDNI. *This part contains two Doffy flashbacks with a graphic depiction of violence including blood, murder of an unnamed character, and the reader being sick, as well as implied sexual encounters. Doffy flashback sections are marked between these symbols ~🦩🦩🦩~ so you can skip past them if you'd like. The chapter begins with one of these graphic memories, but ends with some Hurt/Comfort & sweet fluff!

Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks)

Word Count: 5768

Misty Eyes Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: You try to acclimate to life aboard this yellow submarine, but your past keeps tearing you apart. All that Doffy made you do feels like a stain on your soul, and you're afraid you'll never be clean.

Author's Note: This one gets really fucked up, but I hope the sweet ending makes up for it! 🖤 I have added the dead dove do not eat tag, so please heed the warnings, and do not read if they might be triggering for you.

Thank you so much @pinejayyfor this delicious request!!

Rating/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Donquixote Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Kissing, Shame, Blood and Violence, Vomiting, Minor Character Death, (unnamed character), Sparring, Childhood Memories, Chaste Childhood Kiss, Teasing, Tickling, Yandere Donquixote Doflamingo, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags To Be Added

!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Another simple mission too much for you, Y/N?”

Doffy ducked a bit as he sauntered into the room, his voice making your enemy freeze with her sea prism stone blade to your throat.

“Young mast–”

Your target smirked at you, pressing the tip of the blade into your flesh, just enough to cut your words.

“Are you good and scared,” she taunted, ignoring the powerful man at her back.

Is she fucking stupid? She has to know who he is.

Doffy grinned as he moved closer, until you saw yourself reflected in his sunglasses over your enemy’s head. Neither of the menacing figures before you moved or spoke for a moment, leaving your mind in chaos.

I failed him again. He’s not helping me. Why would he? I’m worthless.

The woman chuckled, showing no fear as the future king of the pirates towered over her. Until his large hand fisted her hair, lifting her until her toes barely touched the ground. A shocked cry left her lips, her satisfied smirk torn away as she struggled to free herself.

“You really can’t do anything on your own, can you?”

Humiliation poured over you, making you wish that the blade had cut you deeper. The prick of blood on your throat wasn’t nearly enough to drown your shame.

The woman laughed, even as she struggled in Doffy’s grasp. She choked on that laughter as the blade in her hand flew toward her own neck, tugged by invisible strings.

“Wait, you said–”

Those frantic eyes had tried to look toward the young master, but her words ended as a flood of red left her throat. Doffy laughed, watching your wide eyes while the woman thrashed. The blade clattered to the floor as a rain of bright, hot blood fell upon it. He took a step toward you, letting all that cherry red cascade down your chest as you stared into the woman’s dying eyes.

She reached for you, dragging her nails across your throat.

“You’re really gonna let this trash disrespect our family? Disrespect me,” Doffy questioned, as bile rose in your throat.

“N-No, I’m sorry young–”

“Finish it. Pick up the knife, and gut her.”

The woman was still struggling, still fighting, but you knew it wouldn’t be long.

I have to prove myself.

You couldn’t move.

“Do it, Y/N,” Doffy threatened, his voice low as he shoved her closer. That hot blood poured over your face as he lifted her higher.

You fell to your knees, somehow finding the blade through the red that had covered your eyes, spitting it out of your mouth as you used the wall to stand back up.

“There you go. Prove you can do something right, Y/N.”

Blinking through the blood, you held the blade to the woman’s stomach, throwing up before you could pierce her flesh.

Doffy dropped that lightly twitching body as you started to retch, stepping back to watch you cover your enemy in your own pathetic disgrace.

Choking on sobs as your stomach emptied over the nearly dead form, you tried to wipe and hide your face. There was no way to hide from Doffy, his manic grin looming near as he crouched beside you.

“Such a pathetic sight. To think that a member of my family could fail me like this,” he tutted, ripping your heart to shreds.

“I’m so sorry, young master, I–”

Your fingers slipped in the blood and sick on the floor as you tried to push yourself up, until your body moved on its own.

No. Not on its own.

Doffy moved it, his fingers extending as he controlled you. A disgusting marionette, dripping with the evidence of shame.

“So disappointing.”

The young master’s voice weighed you down, even as he held your body up. He directed your movements, forcing you to walk as though you were proud of the sticky failure on your skin.

I’m nothing. I don’t deserve to live. I don’t deserve his love.

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Y/N, hey, you’re okay–”

“I couldn’t do it, I’m too weak. I’m so sorry, young–”

Nausea tore through you, the fight to keep from being sick bringing you into the present. Into the mist. Law’s soothing voice was too full of concern, and you hated taking down your camouflage. Hated letting him see how weak you were.

“Y/N, can I check your–”

Law’s fingers were on you as soon as you nodded, slipping along the cold sweat that coated your skin as he checked your temperature and pulse.

“I’m fine,” you lied, your voice hoarse as if you had been sick.

His hands guided your trembling body as you sat up, your eyes caught on your own misty fingers.

Pathetic.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?”

A sharp laugh escaped you, flooding you with guilt. An apology died in your throat as you rubbed your hands over your arms, sliding through that layer of sweat.

“Can I take a shower?”

The “Surgeon of Death” waited outside the bathroom for you. You thought he was trying to help you feel safe by not letting anyone else in, until you remembered the concern, the pity on his face.

He’s making sure I don’t hurt myself.

You couldn’t meet his eyes as he tried to speak to you on the way to the galley, but a tiny smile broke through your heavy shame from Law’s poor attempt at small talk.

“Good morning, Y/N!” Penguin’s voice was too loud as he leaned close to grab breakfast at the counter. The stuffed penguin on his hat bobbed toward you while he spoke.

“Morning,” you greeted, with far less enthusiasm, only to be met with a small orchestra of cheerful voices calling to you, and their captain.

“Hope you didn’t mind the captain on your floor last night. He used to snore like a–”

“Penguin,” Law commanded, voice low as he gripped his crew mate’s wrist.

The man's friendly clap on your back had made your shoulders tense up, your jaw clenching as Doffy’s voice boomed through your mind.

‘Only I’m allowed to touch my little doll,’ Doffy rasped, pinching your thighs almost too hard as you sat in his lap. You tried not to stare at the blood spreading across the marble floor. ‘I don’t like to share.’

“Sure, sorry captain, sorry Y/N…” Penguin took a step back, dipping his head at Law’s frown.

“It’s okay,” you breathed, your lying smile forming so easily on your face before he led you to a table in the corner, away from his happy crew.

I’m like mist, sucking the joy and beauty out of a sunny place.

“Why don’t we skip the interview today,” Law suggested, tapping his pretty fingers on the table.

“But, don’t you nee–”

“I need you to be okay,” he interrupted, reaching those fingers to touch your wrist gently, barely, before pulling away. “Besides, I have something else in mind.”

Moving through the metal halls felt like a dream, like you’d get lost, and keep walking for years before you woke up. Until he spun the wheel to open a heavy door, leading you into the largest room you’d seen on this underwater ship.

“How nostalgic,” you teased, nodding your head toward the wall of weapons in what was clearly a training room.

“It’s been a while since you kicked my ass,” he said with a laugh, and you chewed your lip to fight your cheesy smile. He moved down the wall, pulling two daggers free before facing you. “Catch.”

“Wait,” you cried out, ready to move or mist away, but your body acted on its own. You caught the blade he’d thrown your way, gripping it as you smiled to yourself.

“I see you haven’t lost your reflexes,” he hummed, facing off with you.

“What if I had,” you scolded, your free hand on your hip.

“I knew it couldn’t hurt you. But your enemies might not,” he mused. “Why didn’t you strike? I gave you an opening.”

“What are you–” you laughed, shaking your head at him. “I’m not a fighter anymore. Besides, I don’t want to be mauled by a bear when your crew finds out I tried to attack you.”

His scowl was so sharp, you almost missed his movement. The second blade flew toward you, spinning clear with the ringing of metal as you blocked it with the first dagger.

“What the fuck, Law?”

He ignored you as he pulled a sword from the wall, striding your way with death in his eyes. Your body slid into a stance it hadn’t felt in years, and you gritted your teeth. Barely escaping Law’s attack, you used the dagger to deflect his blade as you rolled away.

“Why are–”

His sword came down over your head, and you misted out of reach, your breath heavy as anger and fear started to build.

“Law! Why–”

“Why do you keep saying you’re weak?”

You froze, unable to move as he plunged his sword through your chest, meeting nothing but mist.

“What happened to the girl that could kick my ass? Until I’d get her back, of course,” he grinned, offering his hand to help you up. Still frozen, you watched him sigh, dropping the sword as he sat down beside you.

“Why do you keep saying that you’re weak,” he repeated softly, his gaze stripping you to the bone.

“Because I am weak.”

The words held nothing but truth, a truth you’d long since accepted.

“Don’t be stupid,” he reprimanded, the insult bringing your eyes to his with a bit of shock and annoyance.

“Is that my doctor’s orders,” you growled, anger showing through your mask for the first time in ages. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you dug your nails into your shins, the comfort of the mild pain helping you stay grounded.

“Yes,” he deadpanned, your lips parting as you glared. He didn’t drop that judgemental look on his face, and it was too fucking much.

You hid the need to squirm by standing, picking up the weapons to hang back on the wall. The weight of a useless life pushed your shoulders down, until a tattooed hand touched yours, taking one of the daggers from you while you stared at the floor.

“When we were kids, you were just as strong of a fighter as I was. I don’t understand how that could change, Y/N,” he recalled, voice soft as he touched your chin. His eyes searched yours, as if you were a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

“I know you’re fierce. Pretty sure I’ve still got a few scars from you,” he laughed, that gentle sound making your eyes drift closed, a bittersweet smile on your lips.

“I’m not fierce,” you confessed, shivering as your skin burned where his fingers still held your chin. “I couldn’t keep up. My powers are so... I kept failing, just like they said I would.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

You almost gaped at him again, but his hand on your chin kept your jaw from dropping. Pulling away, you crossed your arms, that irritation growing.

“Your bedside manner is shit, you know that?”

“We’re not in bed right now,” he countered, his confident voice cut short by his own awkward cough as he continued. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. I’m not a fighter anymore, Law. I can help you with my memories, you don’t need to do all of this.” He ignored your movements as you gestured to the wall of weapons, falling back into that frown he’s so good at.

“Get over it.”

“Excuse me?”

He thrust the handle of the dagger into your palm, leaning close.

“Everyone has to pull their weight on this ship. You’re gonna shadow the crew until we find a job that suits you. You’re gonna sit with me for interviews. And you’re gonna train, just like everyone else,” he commanded, your breath catching as you felt the authority pouring off of him. His fingers were still wrapped around yours, pressing the handle of the blade into your skin.

“Do you under–”

Law grunted with more surprise than pain as your other fist connected with his face. He took a step back, scalding eyes raking over you while he rubbed his jaw, but you cut him off before he could speak.

“Gotcha, with a capital ‘G,” you declared, moving your arms with the dagger to create a poor image of the letter ‘G.’

Everything else faded from your mind as Law started to laugh, holding himself up with his hands on his knees. You couldn’t help but join him, some good childhood memories finally filling the air between you.

“Does he still do that,” he asked, still breathless as he fought the laughter.

“Lau G won’t stop doing that until he’s dead and gone.”

He leaned against the wall of weapons, shaking his head as he pulled up ancient memories.

“That old man trained both of us, Y/N. You were neck and neck with me, even though I’d never admit it back then.”

Your face grew hot, hopefully masked by the wheezing laughter you were still recovering from. But shame quickly followed the pride from his praise, so you turned away to stretch, avoiding his discerning eyes.

“Let’s start with hand to hand,” he ordered softly. You let him take the blade from you, meeting him on the mats in the center of the large, echoey room. Bouncing on your heels, you fought to keep yourself in the present.

‘Can’t take care of a single mission. I’ve never had such a failure in my family before. What should I do with you?’

‘So misty, so flimsy! You’ll never be as strong as us. I bet the young master will throw you out soon.’

‘Why don’t you just focus on being pretty, dear. I heard the young master say that’s all you’re good for.’

“I won’t go easy on you," Law's threat broke through your foggy mind. He smirked, taunting you with a tilt to his head. “Kick my ass.”

Falling into a stance without a thought, you tried to be here, to be nothing but this. You couldn’t make the first move, getting annoyed as Law feinted, tapping you here or there until you finally fought back.

There he was. That silly, angry boy with that wicked smirk. The smirk that you needed to kick off that pretty face. Two years of rivalry, two years of tiny, vicious preteens sparring daily, came flooding back as the sounds filled the training room. The sounds of fists and shins connecting with bodies, breaths and grunts, snarky remarks and laughter.

It felt like no time had passed.

Until you noticed that thought, and shame hit you just before Law tackled you, taking your breath as he rode your body to the ground.

Coming back to yourself too late, he had you pinned, unable to work your arms or legs to get out of his grasp.

“I know you can do better than that,” he teased, his black hair caught in the sweat on his forehead as he stared down at you.

“Go fuck yourself,” you breathed, still winded with his weight on your body.

“With a capital ‘G,” he smirked, too much satisfaction on his face. He laughed as you squirmed harder, trying to free a hand to punch him with.

Now you were satisfied, hearing him grunt as he struggled to keep you in place. You freed one arm, but before you could make contact, Law changed position. He caught your wrist, his breathing ragged as his face hovered even closer to yours.

The air was different, shivers running through you as your bodies relaxed into each other. The struggle halted as you felt his breath on your lips.

His eyes were wide as he took you in, his brows creasing just a bit. Your chest warmed at the memory of a childhood crush, and a quick peck of a kiss before he disappeared. That sweet memory fell apart when he pulled himself off of you, a slight frown on his lips before he turned away.

Oh.

“That’s, uh,” he started, walking away as he avoided your gaze, “that’s enough for today. Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll get your schedule for tomorrow. Good work, today.”

You held up a polite smile as sharp blades of ice seemed to carve into your empty chest. Wanting Law to kiss you seemed ridiculous. Selfish. You hadn’t realized that your stupid, absent heart was so delusional. And now you knew exactly why you shouldn’t think about him that way.

He’s disgusted by me. I’ll always be tainted. Ruined. I’m lucky he hasn’t put me out of my misery yet. Why would Law want to touch trash like me?

The thoughts crashed into you, and the moment wouldn’t stop replaying. The press of him, his amber eyes, the sweat and breath mixing between you.

And that frown as he pulled away.

It played on a loop as you walked through the submarine, repeating through another shower, a nearly silent lunch in the galley, and the tour. Law guided you with a hand drawn map, labeled with the various stations, and the crew members you’d be shadowing. A detailed weekly schedule filled the back of the paper, and you let out a quiet laugh at his attention to detail.

“Do you have any questions?”

“No, teacher,” you teased, breathing deep when he finally looked at you again.

“It’s captain,” he corrected as he pointed to the schedule. “You’ll be with Ikkaku tomorrow morning, then if you’re up for it, I'd like to do another interview.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

Just a twitch of his lips this time, but it was a relief. Until he left you in the galley with the crew, excusing himself to complete some “captain’s duties.”

He doesn’t even want to eat with me now. I probably make him sick.

“Hi, Y/N, you can sit with me! You know, if you want to…” Bepo trailed off, flipping from excited to glum in seconds.

“Thank you, Bepo,” you agreed, donning your cheerful voice as you sat across from him.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier,” Penguin said as he sat beside you, still too close for comfort after years of Doffy’s rules. “The captain’s the only one that taught us any manners, but I guess I still need some practice.”

“It’s al–”

“Give her some space, you��re being a creep,” Shachi cut in, sitting across from Penguin as he pointed a fork his way.

“I’m not a creep, you jerk–”

“The captain said to behave ourselves,” Bepo scolded, and you found a real smile on your lips as you saw the concern on his cute, furry face.

“Hey, you’re with me tomorrow, right?”

Ikkaku waved over the bear's shoulder, her dark brown curls making her instantly recognizable. You confirmed with a nod while the three boys at the table kept bickering.

“Let’s go talk about it.”

Arguments and insults floated through the air, and you were grateful for the rescue as you joined the only other non-man on the ship. She smirked as she nodded her head toward her crew mates.

“Don’t mind the dumbasses, they’re harmless.”

“Thanks,” you laughed, your appetite returning as you watched Ikkaku take a large bite, rolling her eyes at Bepo’s table.

Comfortable quiet sat with you, and you finally felt a moment of ease in your new world. Even with Law, you felt this energy of holding yourself up, of presenting yourself how you wanted him to see you. But this relaxed woman seemed friendly as she dug into her meal, without the pressure of a smile. She didn’t watch you, or force you into small talk, even when you followed her out of the galley to point out where you’d be working in the morning.

“I’m ‘Weps,’ so I’ll be showing you how to spot and kill enemies. Hopefully we’ll always be bored,” she huffed, pointing vaguely toward her station before guiding you back to the barracks.

“That’s you, right,” she asked, tapping on your door. “I’ll yell when it’s time to go.”

“Thank you,” you squeaked, staring for a moment as she turned away.

That small metal room seemed to amplify your worst thoughts, your loneliness echoing through the air like some torturous bell. You wished you had some sort of drug to knock yourself out. Instead, you curled on your side, trying not to think about how Law had cared enough to sleep on your floor last night, but could barely look at you after your near touch earlier.

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Don’t get all misty-eyed. That man should have known better than to touch my pretty doll,” Doffy declared, crouching down to press his palm into the sticky red puddle.

The blood of an unlucky man. A friendly man that tried to help you stay balanced while you walked down a flight of stairs in too-high heels.

“No one else will ever touch you,” Doffy breathed, pressing his bloody palm to your chest. He licked his lips as he dragged his fingers higher, painting your skin.

Doffy loves me. He’ll be King. Kings have to do this. They have to enforce their–

Your deep breaths and calming thoughts halted as his sticky hand gripped your face, digging into your cheeks to tilt your face up to his.

No more misty eyes.

You felt pride for your lack of tears, and for the smile he gave before he smoothed the hair from your face.

“You’re so pretty when you listen to me,” he praised, his grin deepening when he heard your pleased hum. “You know I’ll have to kill you too, right? You're my doll now. Letting someone touch you with their grubby fingers, and defile my toy sounds like another failure, huh, misty eyes?”

A soft noise escaped your lips as you struggled to be strong for him.

“Well,” he seethed, the veins in his forehead bulging as he shook your face in his bloody grip, “does my pretty doll have anything to say?”

“I-I’m yours, Doffy,” you promised, keeping your eyes dry as your body went loose, leaning into his hold.

“My body belongs to you, young mast– Doffy. I’d rather die than let someone defile your property.”

A bruising kiss took your breath, and you whined for him as he laid you on the marble floor. That spill of red beside you had finally stopped flowing.

“Don’t forget that, Y/N. I’m the only one that gets to defile my pretty doll. My disgusting, little toy. No one would want to touch you anyway. Not if they knew what you let me do to you.”

Doffy laughed as he proved it to you.

And you kept your eyes dry.

~🦩🦩🦩~

Last night, your mind had chosen memories over dreams. The lights and sounds of the sonar were lovely, yet too soothing, and Ikkaku caught you shaking yourself as you held in a yawn.

“Come on,” she ordered as she pushed you out of the weapons room, leading you through the halls. You pressed your fingers into your brow, trying to alleviate some of the pressure, not realizing where she was taking you until she called through a familiar door.

“Captain, I need to report a crew member who’s unfit for duty.”

“Wait, what,” you cried out, cutting off your own yawn as she rolled her eyes at you.

Law opened the door, his eyes narrowing on you before he looked at her.

“What’s your report?”

“Y/N was doing well with sonar, but she's clearly sleep deprived. There's no yawning at my weapons station, Captain.”

Ikkaku softened her report by flashing you a tiny smile, but your shoulders slumped in embarrassment.

“Thank you for the report,” Law cleared his throat, avoiding your eyes as he focused on her. “We’ll try again tomorrow. You’re dismissed, Ikkaku.”

She patted your back as she passed, her gesture of comfort lost as your body tensed at the touch.

With a shaky breath, you turned to him, staring at his tattooed arms that flexed as they crossed below his chest.

I didn’t mind when he touched me.

That thought was bittersweet, the bitter turning to bile when you remembered him pulling away.

“Come in,” he gestured into the office, and you stepped back into your memories. A shrine to Doffy, even if it was built of hate.

“How much sleep did you get last night,” he spoke like a doctor, scrutinizing every movement as you sat down across his desk.

“How would I know? There’s no clock in there.”

Somehow, his frown deepened, and you let out a heavy sigh.

“Did you sleep at all?”

The touch of warmth in his voice filled the cold room, but you didn’t want it. You couldn’t truly have it. So you let the truth ring through your mind as you lied again.

All I am is the broken toy of the man he despises.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be okay.”

Your eyes slid away, seeing nothing as you pretended to be fine. Yet, you blinked slowly when he stood, his chair scraping along the floor before he came to kneel beside you.

Time seemed fuzzy, but after a while you heard his voice, low and steady.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Too tired and stuck for anything except for the faint quivering of your bottom lip, you stayed silent.

“Is it…” he cleared his throat, flexing his hands before he went on. “Is it alright if I hug you?”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he tried to cover his worry in a soothing tone as tears and small choked sounds left your throat. “We don’t need to–”

“Please.”

That tiny, pathetic word left your lips, and you felt sick for asking for anything. Sick for forcing him to take care of you.

But you didn’t fight as he pulled the chair out, as he knelt to the side of your knees, as he touched long fingers to your cheek.

“Is it alright if I hug you,” he asked again in a whisper. You were too weak to protect him from you, nodding slowly until you felt more of his touch.

He pulled you gently forward, your arms limp as he wrapped his around your waist, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

“You’re okay,” he soothed, sliding a palm between your shoulder blades. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Denials and arguments struggled to leave your lips, anger and fear fighting for control.

But you were so tired.

And Law felt so warm, so solid, his smell familiar, yet new. He squeezed you tighter as your breath sped up, holding you still, until you held him too.

He didn’t let go as you dripped hot tears onto his neck. He didn’t let go when you clung to him, digging your fingers into his arms and shoulders. He didn’t let go as your cries flipped from silent to pleading, as you begged for his forgiveness, or choked over the fears and shame you carried.

Through every round of emotions, you would return to guilt and disgust.

“I’m sorry, Law, I’m sick. You shouldn't be... I’m sorry you have to touch me.”

“Why are you saying that,” he nearly growled, holding your head against him to keep you from leaving his grasp.

You had no idea how long you’d made him care for you, how many tears you’d let stain his shirt. But however long it had been, you were finally able to speak some of it clearly.

“You hate him,” you said, your feeble voice breaking between your haggard breaths, “and I’m his… I’m broken. I’m disgust–”

“Shut up.”

A surprised yelp stopped your words, the force of his grip catching your breath.

Law’s fingers dug into your skin as he pressed you against him, almost to the point of pain, and your mind froze as you waited for him.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he declared, forcing the words through his teeth. “I don’t give a shit about what he did to you. I don’t care what he made you do. It wasn’t your fault, you hear me?”

There was anger in his words, but you knew it wasn’t for you. Still, you were stunned, feeling his heavy breaths beating against your chest.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he buried his face into your neck before pulling away. It was almost painful losing his warmth against you, but he took your hands in his. He seemed to be having more trouble meeting eyes than you were, and you started sinking into the chair while he cleared his throat a few times.

“When I found out that you’d… That he’d… I should have saved you, Y/N. But I decided not to care about you so I could focus on my mission. I let him–”

“Stop,” you cried out, shaking your head against the guilt in his voice. “I wouldn’t have come with you before. I don’t even know when things started to change. But I would have betrayed you. I wanted to be… I’m glad you didn’t find me sooner, Law. I just wish–”

You cut yourself off, melting into his golden eyes. A stolen moment of peace amidst the guilt and pain.

“What do you wish,” he asked, rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands.

“... I don't think broken people get wishes.”

He gave a jaded laugh before standing, leaning against the desk while he rubbed his knees.

“Will it help you sleep if I stay on your floor tonight?”

You smirked at his soft words, looking from his knees up to his face before responding.

“I don’t know, old man. I don’t think it’ll be good for your joints.” The look on his face was perfect, and a real laugh left your raw throat, shaking your tired body.

“We’re the same age,” he countered, eyes wide with that manic grin, “and disrespecting your captain is a punishable offense.”

“I see how it is,” you teased, lightly poking his side. “Still can’t come up with a good comeback, so you threaten me with violence? Looks like you haven’t changed a bit, you– Law!”

He’d grabbed your wrist before going to his knees again, those pretty fingers searching your ribs for the perfect spot. You writhed and laughed, and failed to fight him off as he tickled you, the way he used to when he couldn’t outsmart you.

“Law, you–”

“Fuck, sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Law pressed himself against the desk, still on his knees with his hands held up, his eyes wide and worried as he looked at you.

You cracked up, true, heavy laughter, until his lips curled into that evil little smirk. But you beat him to it, sliding to the ground to get him back, tickling and getting a good squirm out of him before you both attacked.

He growled as he laughed, grappling you to the side of the chair until he had you pinned to the ground again. Neither of you could tickle the other as you fought for control or freedom. His cheeks were flushed as he laughed in your face, giving you a snarky, “nuh uh,” when you failed to break loose.

His tongue pressed between his teeth as he gloated, that cocky grin fading as you melted into each other again.

“I–I’m sorry,” he sighed, shifting his weight to leave.

“Don’t be sorry,” you demanded, breathless, and aching for him to stay. “I want…”

You closed your eyes, guilt and shame sliding into your lungs again.

His weight shifted, settling back where he was before. You bit your lip when you saw him staring at your mouth, and heat filled your body as you became hyper aware of every detail of his gorgeous face.

“You want,” he rasped as he met your eyes, concern still pouring from his own.

Your words were choked by all those shitty feelings and doubts.

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

His gentle voice eased the tension in your body, and you were grateful that he hadn’t moved. That he still touched you.

He was still touching you even though you were broken.

“I want you to kiss me.”

~🖤🖤🖤~

You’d ordered the stupid boy to kiss you, your arms crossed as you tried to act like you didn’t care. He’d lost the bet, and had to do whatever you asked.

“Ew, gross! I’m not doing that.”

Law stuck his tongue out, pretending to be sick.

“You lost the bet,” you scolded, punching his shoulder. “Want me to tell everyone you’re an oathbreaker?”

“Why do you wanna kiss me anyway? I’m sick,” he questioned, a hint of hurt in his voice as he gestured to the pale spots on his face.

“I don’t care if you’re sick. I like you how you are.” The confession slipped out, and heat rushed to your face as you clamped your hands over your mouth.

“You like me,” he taunted, smirking as he poked your burning cheek. “Ha, you’re such a girl.”

“Am not,” you yelled, your hands going misty with embarrassment.

“So, all I gotta do is kiss you, and we’ll be square?”

You nodded quickly, not sure if you should trust him.

“Fine,” he complained, leaning in.

You didn’t know what the big deal was about kissing. His lips were cold and scratchy when he pressed them against yours for a few seconds, then he scowled at you as he pulled away.

“That was dumb,” he deadpanned, poking your side.

“You’re dumb!”

He stuck his tongue out at you, and you chased Law down until he swore to never tell a soul.

~🖤🖤🖤~

“Ew, gross,” Law grinned, your mouth falling open in shock.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he teased, moving his smug face closer to yours. “Kissing you sounds gross.”

“You fucking ass,” you seethed, struggling to get out of his grapple so you could punch him. “I can’t believe–”

He let out a needy sound as he crashed his lips onto yours, and you moaned against him. Your back arched when he released his hold on your arms to cradle your face.

A sob of relief escaped you, and you felt like you’d lost your mind, your hands clawing at his back to pull him closer.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against yours. “I should–”

“No more ‘sorry's,” you ordered, “I just want you to kiss me.”

Law chuckled, his voice coming back in a wicked rasp.

“Ew, gross.”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Sorry about the gruesome, but I hope you enjoyed the wholesome Law with his childhood sweetheart. I adore this man 🥰

Note for the timeline: The childhood flashback occurred shortly before Cora took Law away, so both the reader and Law had known each other over 2 years, and were both between 12-13 yrs old. At the present time in the story, both the reader and Law are around 25 years old.

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass

Part 4

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

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papiliotao · 1 year

Text

・❥・DICTIONARY OF LOVE

♡ — Reader: GN

♡ — Characters: Albedo, Ayaka, Kazuha, Tartaglia, Wanderer (Scaramouche), Xiao

♡ — Synopsis: love through their eyes.

♡ — Content: fluff, very very light angst(?)

♡ — Warnings: spoilers for some characters' backstories

♡ — A/N: honestly, I'm kind of proud of the fact that I was able to keep each part relatively concise. Also, one of these parts is just me being down bad for one of the characters (I'll leave who it is to your imagination hehe). Anyway, as always, I hope you enjoy the fic!!

To ALBEDO, love means patience. He's well aware that he's not the most energetic or expressive person. There are moments where his social battery is low, and he needs to immerse himself in his own world more than anything. Whenever this happens, you sit in the snowy landscape of Dragonspine, watching Albedo as he drags a brush across a canvas, causing inky strokes to bleed across the intricate composition. You wait in silence, intently peering at him, observing every movement of his arm and flick of his wrist. The frigid air stings your cheeks, but Albedo's presence is enough to cease the chills that threaten to wrack your body. Once he finishes, he turns to you and smiles softly. Albedo thanks you for waiting for him. Your understanding means the world to him, and despite the fact that you insist you need nothing in return, he still feels the need to reimburse you by taking you back to his camp in Dragonspine where he cuddles you until you feel warm again.

To AYAKA, love means acceptance. After long days of being surrounded by people who idolize her instead of seeing her as a friend, your presence makes her feel like a human being instead of some faultless goddess. Although she appreciates the individuals who think highly of her, she loves how spending time with you feels so easy in comparison. With you, she has no image to maintain. Formalities and etiquette are thrown out the window when she is with the one she adores. Despite the fact that you know she's not a perfect person, you're still hers, and that makes her feel secure. You're special to her because you accept all her flaws instead of ignoring them, yet you love her nonetheless.

To KAZUHA, love means tranquility. After all the storms he has encountered in his lifetime, he needs someone who can help him calm the raging tempests in his heart, and that someone is you. Peace — it's a feeling reminiscent of the serenity that courses through his veins when he basks in the last ephemeral rays of sunlight with you by his side. It’s a sentiment that is evoked by the gentle lapping of waves on sand as the two of you walk along a pristine shoreline, hand-in-hand as the sun sinks below the horizon. And most importantly of all, it's found in the sense of stillness that settles over him each night as he falls asleep with you in his arms. The moon acts as a witness to your love, curiously glancing down at the two of you as Kazuha holds you close and whispers sweet nothings into your ear until you drift off into slumber. When he is finally left alone with his thoughts, Kazuha wistfully gazes overhead and thanks every star in his sight for leading him to you.

To TARTAGLIA, love means war. He is a fighter by nature, so needless to say, he will fight as many battles as it takes to protect you. He knows it's not easy nor safe being romantically involved with one of the Fatui Harbingers. Numerous foes have tried to take you hostage and use you as leverage against him. However, Tartaglia is always there to protect you whenever his enemies try to strike from the shadows. His love for you and his contempt for those who attempt to hurt you fuel a fiery rage that urges him to show no mercy. By the time he is finished with them, he is certain that they will never try to harm you again. In Tartaglia's eyes, loving you is like fighting a war, and although the prospect is unappealing to many, Tartaglia is different. The thrill of battle fills him with adrenaline, and at the end of the day, he finds that it is all worth it because you're still by his side.

To the WANDERER, love means eternity. It is a concept he is all too familiar with — after all, the deity who embodies the principle is the one who created him just to cast him aside, initiating the first of several betrayals to come. All the fleeting moments of warmth he has experienced in his lifetime have left him raring for more, but no one ever quite quenches his thirst for intimacy before they abandon him. He wants something lasting, but he's too afraid to voice his desires due to the dubious thoughts that riddle his mind. If the God of Eternity’s affection for him was as transient as the vibrant maple leaves that adorned his birthplace, then who would ever be willing to love him indefinitely? His burning questions are all answered when he meets you. You are able to look past his harsh exterior and see him for who he truly is: someone afraid of the impermanence of tenderness, so when you finally confess your true feelings to him, you make it clear that you plan on staying by his side forevermore. When you make your vow to the Wanderer, he feels a gentle heartbeat thrumming to life in his once-empty chest. Perhaps this time, eternity will last forever.

To XIAO, love means subtlety. It is difficult for Xiao to verbally convey his admiration for you, so instead of expressing his infatuation in a straightforward manner, it is instead a sentiment he administers through lingering touches and shy acts of service. His love is quiet. Subdued, yet passionate all the same, and he will forever be grateful that you never fail to pick up on what he is discreetly trying to say to you. A heartfelt "I love you" is hidden in every small moment, no matter how insignificant it seems. And the way you reciprocate his gestures by preparing his favourite dish, shyly taking his hand while you're sitting together on Wangshu Inn's roof, and inspecting his body for any injuries in what you think is an inconspicuous manner makes his heart race time and time again. To Xiao, love is not something that needs to be in-your-face; it is found when you read between the lines.

Au revoir, mes amis. Also, all of these were supposed to be wholesome, and then Childe came along, and I just said VIOLENCE. I wonder if anyone can tell which one of these characters is my favourite. (Any guesses? /hj)

#r.archives *ೃ༄#albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #xiao x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #ayaka x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons

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simply-wlw-kpopstan · 1 month

Text

4. Accident

⚠️ Spoilers ahead

You woke up and groaned lightly at the light peeking in from behind the curtains. You buried your face in the mass of hair that was in front of you and shifted closer to the warm source, the soft scent of cinnamon and sigarets were just lulling you back to sleep until realization hit you.

Sometime in the night, you and harin got closer and ended up cuddling. Harin’s back was pressed against you, your thigh wedged between her legs and an arm loosely over her waist.

You try to pull away slightly, but all you end up doing is accidentally rubbing your thigh against her 'causing harin to moan lightly in her sleep. Luckily for you she doesn't wake up and you try again, shifting more slowly this time and you manage to escape the bed without waking her up and got ready for the day quietly.

As you walk into the living room you see eunjeong sitting on the couch with her headphones on. You walked closer to her and tapped her on her shoulder, she jumps a little at the touch and shifts the headphones slightly so she can hear you. "What's up?"

"How's your foot?" you nodd towards her leg that's taped, "think you can walk on it to get a coffee?" She smiled and nodded.

"sure, let me grab my bag first." when she left the room you walked towards the window that stretched across the suite, the sun was rising and there were a few people jogging downstairs. If you have the time later you'll go for a run, who knows what you'll find along the way." ready? " eunjeong's voice startled you and you both laughed it off.

"Let's go." you left the suite and ran into yerim and suji at the coffee shop. The air was pretty awkward when nobody said a word as you waited for your orders. It seems like luck was on your side when they call out your order number. "so what's going on between you and yerim? Are you fighting or something?"

"I'll tell you if you tell me what's going on between you and harin." she gave you a knowing look as she sipped from her cup.

"Okay so no talking then. Got it."

"what is it that she has on you?" She watched your expression closely, searching for a sign that could confirm her suspicion. "it looks like you're being protected by her or maybe she's just keeping you for her entertainment. I heard about the clay incident, that must've been hard. Did she ruin one of your pieces?"

"no. It wasn't like that. It's complicated." lie. It was simple, you like her and have been sneaking around in a certain way. You don't know what you are, no matter what harin says there will always be a voice doubting her. " I met her before I came here and she was not like how you know her, I didn't see that side of her until a few weeks ago."

"you like her?" judging by eunjeong's voice she wasn't judging you like you thought she would. "you liked her and then you got to know her other side but it was too late wasn't it?"

You just nodded at her question, no words needed to be said to confirm. " it's crazy right? I hate that I still see the good in her when I know what she's done."

"well, I'm ignoring yerim because I want her to debut."

"I'm sorry for saying this but that doesn't make any sense."

"yerim was against the game from the beginning and harin didn't like that. But since yerim comes from a powerful family harin couldn't just make her an F so she uses her debut against her. I know that me and yerim are obvious but I want her to achieve her dream of debuting."

"so that's what she got on you." you said it more to yourself then to eunjeong but she nodded anyways.

"all I want to say is just be careful. It seems like this thing between you is the only way of her having a hold on you. I'm not saying she doesn't like you but...."

"I know. Trust me there's a little voice in the back of my head whenever she's sweet to me. It's constantly reminding me to keep my guard up just in case. "

"well as long as you listen to it you'll be fine." she smiled and you both finished your drinks as you made your way back to the hotel.

Harin was nowhere to be found but you assumed eunbyeol was with her since she was gone too. You still had 10 minutes before you had to go downstairs, paintball would sound fun if it wasn't with this group of people. A lot has happened and you knew today would be a recipe for disaster. Your only hope was that harin kept her wordbut That hope was shattered the moment eunbyeol announces you were playing for a replacement F and a penalty. As the game starts everyone scatters around and you tried to find harin to ask what all this was about but you couldn't seem to find her. There were times when someone passes you without shooting and you start to wonder why nobody had any paint marks when you heard shots a couple of seconds ago.

You walk inside a building and heard shots and voices talking. Not just any voice, harin. You walk up to the corner and took a peek to see her standing in front of jaeun who had multiple paint shots on her shirt, was that her plan? Shoot Jaeun so she'd get a penalty? You knew that eavesdropping wasn't really nice but did it matter in this situation? Harin had asked jaeun something about her mom and then told her to betray her friends. That's when it clicked, jaeun and sooji's room were all black vests. The alarm sounds and they both leave before you could talk with harin.

In the end it's jaeun, sooji, jaehyung, jiae and eunjeong. It doesn't take a genius to know eunjeong took the fall for yerim and that jiae was set up. As eunbyeol explained the penalty you looked over to harin but she wouldn't turn towards you. Out of nowhere jiae begins to shoot herself and it takes everyone by Suprise and then it's followed by the rest doing the same. You couldn't help the smile as they took turns confessing and then jaeun begins and for a second you think she was going to confess what she did to harin but she freezes and sooji shoots her, claiming she looks evil next to her and they continue to shoot each other. You looked at harin once again to see her holding back her anger. As you're watching her you notice eunbyeol talking to dayeon and before you realize it she's fighting with eunjeong.

You immediately run towards them but sadly you were to late as dayeon throws her against the wooden panel, "are you fucking crazy?" you yelled at dayeon as you pulled her away.

"what? You think I won't hurt you because harin told us not to? Try me and find out. " she spat on the ground at your feet.

"Someone call 911!" sooji yelled from behind you. You turned back and saw the blood coming from eunjeong's leg, you didn't care about the consequences and pushed dayeon back. She stumbled backwards at the force but managed to keep standing.

"you fucking bitch!" She yelled as she charges at you and both of you fall to the ground. You tussled on the ground for a moment but managed to land a hit and overpowered her quickly.

"stop it!" harin spoke and it turned your attention towards her for a second too long. Dayeon quickly hits you and you can feel it connect with your cheekbone. No matter what happens you won't just roll over because she wants you to so you ignore her, landing another punch before staff members of the facility pulled you off of dayeon.

"do neither of you feel sorry for what you did?" you yelled to dayeon and harin, "and you!" you turned towards eunbyeol, "I saw you! Don't even think about saying you didn't do anything. If you didn't tell dayeon whatever it was you told her, all of this wouldn't have happened."

Everything feels like a blur as they take eunjeong to the hospital. One of the staff members takes a look at your cheek since it was already bruising and gave you an ice pack to reduce swelling. Your eyes fall on harin who was standing near the entrance, watching you as the woman applies an ointment. After that you're free to go and you walk the other way to ignore harin. The bus ride back to the hotel is silent, nobody dares to say anything after today's events.

Sooji walks up to you in the hotel lobby and drags you away by your arm, as she pulls you towards the corner you see harin stare at the two of you and swear you could see her eyes twitch from where you're standing. "thank you for standing up to dayeon and the others." she smiles a little, "I talked with the others and we wanted to ask if you wanted to stay in our suite instead of yours."

"I'll think about it."

"aren't you worried they'll do something to you?" She frowned.

"not really. But if things do get weird I'll text you and I'll come join the sleepover" you joked and you both managed to loosen up a bit and laugh. "I think you have a big shot at stopping the game."

"you can still help us you know. Never too late."

"I don't want to get dragged into this eventhough I did just jump in the middle of it," you smile and rub the back of your neck, "Just know if you need a vote to stop this you got mine."

You end up talking about eunjeong for a little while before parting ways. As you're headed to your suite you hope harin isn't in the living room that way you can shower peacefully before having to deal with her anger. You successfully escape to the bathroom without being seen but heard harin's voice pass by when you closed the door.

Once you step out the shower you take in your bruise on your face, the throbbing feeling was returning as the painkillers were wearing off. It wasn't too bad but it wasn't pretty either. Thank god for that staff member that gave you some ice and ointment or else the swelling would've been much worse. You reach your hand up to touch the skin around but flinch at the pain, looks like you won't be able to lay on that side for a little while.

The moment you walk in your bedroom harin is laying on the bed, staring out the window with her arms crossed, "about time you showed up."

"didn't know you were waiting for me." you lied and you both knew it.

"why were you talking with sooji?" She moves to the side of the bed as she watched you walk over to your suitcase.

"because she wanted to talk to me and unlike some people she tells me the truth." was it a lowblow? For sure but you couldn't care less. she had promised you that there wouldn't be any bullying, you had a feeling she wouldn't keep it but to go this far? Eunjeong was in the hospital because of her game, she could've stopped dayeon but she didn't.

"What's that supposed to mean?! I didn't lie to you." she got off the bed and made you look at her. "are you helping her?"

"no. But maybe I should." you stood up and got closer to her, your face just an inch away from hers. It was clear she was mad at you but there was also a trace of hurt in her eyes. " you promised me harin. You wouldn't hurt anyone and now eunjeong is in the hospital, Her chances of a swimming career might be gone! All because of your dumb game!"

"it isn't dumb!" She gritted her teeth and you knew this could end bad for you. No matter what happens you would end up at sooji's and jaeun's tonight. "eunjeong chose to defend yerim and after that she chose to stop dayeon. Those are not my choices and I didn't tell dayeon to do anything."

"did you talk to them like you said you would? Like you promised me?" you stepped away from her to get dressed but she followed you anyways. "you didn't did you? I was there when you shot jaeun, when you told her to betray her friends harin."

"she deserved it."

"did she? You were both 9, she didn't know any better! Sure she's guilty of some stuff too but you've done so much worse lately. You're not even sorry for what happened today!"

"she shouldn't have! -" she raised her voice but you cut her off.

"what about me?!" your voice cracked and you swear you could see a flash of guilt in her eyes. "I stepped in too, dayeon and I fought and the only thing you did was tell us to stop once. You could've done that before dayeon hurt eunjeong but you didn't."

"I don't care about eunjeong. I care about you. This is the first time I've felt this way and I didn't want to see you get hurt" she reached out to grab your hand but you pulled away.

"that doesn't mean it's okay. " you turned your head away from her as you thought back to your conversation with eunjeong this morning, " If there's anything that I've learned these past few days it's that I don't really know you."

"you do know me!"

"really? Because I never thought you would threaten to out a person. I talked with eunjeong this morning and she told me everything. Yerim was against the game from the start but you couldn't control her because of her family. The only thing you could do was destroy her chance to debute and then you found out about them." you grabbed all your stuff and threw it in your suitcase." jaeun might have hurt you when you were kids but that's no excuse for everything you've done. "

" wha- where are you going? We leave tomorrow."

" I can't stay in the same suite as you and your minions. Not after today. Whatever this was between us is done harin. " you feel your throat tighten and turn away from her to close your suitcase.

" no! You can't just walk out on me!" She followed you as you left the room. Doa looked up from her place on the couch and dayeon smirked as you walked past her.

" leaving 'cause you're scared i'll do something?" it was the first time you saw her after the fight and saw the damage you did. Dayeon had a busted lip and a bruise on her cheek, it wasn't as bad as yours and you were a bit disappointed by it.

"i'm leaving because I can't stand to look at any of you... Except for you doa." you gave her a soft smile and she nodded.

"understandable." she smiled.

"where are you going?" harin's voice was stern.

"none of your business." you opened the door and left the suite. A part of you was worried she would follow you and loose her shit when she sees you walk in sooji's and jaeun's suite. She would find out either way but you'd appreciate a bit of peace and quiet before the storm. The moment you walk in the suite you see the girls surrounding yerim as she read something on her phone. Eunjeong was going to be okay but it was too soon to tell if she'd have to give up her swimming career or not. Jaehyeong soon lifted the mood by joking around and flirting with jaeun, maybe things could get better if you helped them out.

What would happen if harin lost her game? Could she lose? Her control goes beyond the school, she can change a person's life with just a single text. How far can she go? Better question, how far is sooji willing to take this? Harin wasn't a nice person and yet you couldn't help feeling bad for leaving her. She already dealt with so much in her life and this game was the only thing that made her happy in some way. Time passes by fast and before you know it you're alone in the living room at night.

"What's on your mind?" yerim pulled you out of your daydreaming as she sat down on the opposite side.

"nothing." you gave her a quick smile, "you can't sleep?"

"not really." she looked down at her phone as it lights up.

"have you heard anything from eunjeong?" She shook her head and you just nodd, "i'm sorry for today."

"it's not your fault. I should be thanking you for defending her." she smiled lightly, "you could've just stood by and you wouldn't have gotten hurt." her eyes trail over the bruise as you waved her off. "aren't you worried harin will come after you?"

"don't worry about it."

"can't help it. Harin is dangerous, she's unpredictable. Add the drugs on top of it and it's-"

"drugs?"

"yeah, her vitamins? Don't tell me you didn't know." she looked at you in disbelieve, "everyone knows about it."

"I didn't."you look down at your hands." do you know what kind? "

" no. Sorry. Maybe you could ask her? She seems to like you"

"I think that ship has sailed after today." you end up talking for a few more hours about all sorts of things. As you lay down on one of the beds your mind goes over yerim's words. How did you not realize harin was taking drugs? Things started to click in your head. She took those pills throughout the day while most people take vitamins in the morning. Could her behavior be a side effect of the drugs? What kind did she take? Would she tell you if you asked? Probably not. The only person who might know is doa, she's very observant and her dad's a doctor. You closed your eyes as you thought about how you were going to bring it up. Doa was helping sooji behind the scenes so if she knows she would tell you right? Guess you'll find tomorrow.

masterlist | next

#baek harin #baek harin x reader #pyramid game x reader #pyramid game

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mistydeyes · 10 months

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eyes for the stars

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: The 141 boys can't help but feel slightly jealous about your celebrity crush. They can't help but wonder why you're so obsessed with them.

pairing: 141 x civvie! Reader

warnings: swearing, spoilers for Euphoria!

a/n: a little self indulgent because i too have all of these crushes (love my problematic ladies, sydney and phoebe <;3)

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

price: pedro pascal

The minute you laid eyes on him you were hooked. From episode 1 of The Last of Us, Pedro became your very apparent celebrity crush. Who doesn’t love a strong parental figure who will do anything for his unconventional child?

Ever the observer, Price noticed how your Instagram stories were filled with reposts of Pedro at award shows, magazine covers, and even behind-the-shoot pictures. He even noticed the growing collection in your shared home of Mandalorian memorabilia. He couldn't help but feel hurt that his partner posted a celebrity more than him.

As Gaz looked over his shoulder he commented, "Looks like a more handsome version of you, Sir." "Get back to work, Sergeant" Price commanded, before shoving his phone back in his pocket. He couldn't believe that this was getting to him.

“You have a type, love,” Price said as you sat watching another episode of Narcos. It was your turn to pick a show to binge and of course, you picked this one. Price secretly wished you spent his leave watching anything else. You were glued to the screen as you sat in your boyfriend’s arms. “I do not,” you argued, “you and he are so different.” You rolled your eyes and he let out a small chuckle.

“He’s an older man who is surprisingly resourceful and doesn’t let many people in until he’s given someone to protect with his life,” he began and you realized the similarities, “Plus, look at him. I might start shaving my beard and only having a mustache for you.”

As the realization hit you, you couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed at his observations. You paused the episode and held his face gently. "I'd much rather have this mustached face here with me than him," you said and shared a loving kiss.

Price was later happy to say that your stories of the man were significantly less than before. Good thing he didn't see your phone wallpaper was of the very famous Pedro Pascal edit (yk the one).

soap: sydney sweeney

You both were unapologetic about your love for the problematic blonde on Euphoria. Although you couldn't condone her rumors about Glen Powell, you couldn't help but obsess over the gorgeous woman. A new Syd’s garage TikTok? Queue you running around your house to find your boyfriend. You both religiously watched her in episodes of The Handmaid’s Tale and White Lotus. Don’t even get me started on when she appeared on the red carpet, your texts were flooded with pictures and emojis.

There was always one rule between you and Soap: don't watch any Sydney Sweeney movies or shows without the other. He instituted that rule once the new Euphoria season was predicted to come out. As he left for another mission for the 141, he kissed you and said, "No Sydney without me, promise?" As you gave him your pinky, you wouldn't realize you would be breaking that rule later on that year.

To be fair, no one could have predicted that their mission would have taken until the end of November. Also, it was technically Soap's fault for not binging the show before he was deployed. However, since the call to duty was ever present, he didn't want to start a show without knowing he could finish it. You waited until August to finally start it. You had been dying since the season ended in February and had blocked all spoilers.

The minute the show started, you knew you couldn't stop. The plot line between Nate and Cassie was just TOO GOOD. Hours later, you had finished and were ashamed of yourself. You just had to know how the drama between Maddy and Cassie ended. Logging out of your account, you tried to hide all the evidence before your boyfriend inevitably came home.

It was December when Soap returned, excited to be home with you and even more excited to start Season 2 of Euphoria. As you made you both some popcorn, you heard an ear-piercing scream from the living room. You rushed over to see what happened but Soap stood there with a shocked face. "Bonnie, why does HBO say you finished all the episodes?" he accused and you knew you were done for. "I-" you started before he interrupted. "You betrayed me, worse than Graves," he said almost as if he was crying. As you looked at him sheepishly he said in a soft voice, "Please tell me that the rumors about Cassie and Nate aren't true."

gaz: henry cavill

Who could compete with Superman? Certainly not Gaz, in fact, he would get a little jealous when you mentioned your little crush. You loved Henry Cavill specifically the DC Comic version of him, not The Witcher. Gaz regretted ever letting Soap get you into the new films.

For the past year, your boyfriend would not hear the end of your pining for the dark-haired beauty. You were non-stop, always talking about his latest interviews and always having his films on repeat. Gaz even had to stop you from putting a framed picture of Henry on your fireplace mantle. You finally agreed that Henry belonged on screen, not in a frame along with your loved ones and your boyfriend.

Gaz miraculously was home for Halloween, a first! You had been invited to a party by your friends and decided on a Cat Woman costume. Oddly enough, when you asked Gaz what he was wearing, he said he already had it covered. This was his chance to show you who the real hero was. You tried to find out the best you could (even looking through his search history) but you could not find what it was.

"Babe, can you at least tell me you're on theme?" you asked over the phone, it was a few weeks before his return and you were anxious to know his secret costume. "Trust me, love, you'll be pleasantly surprised" he answered and you audibly groaned at his mysterious tone.

“Kyle, are you ready?” you called, dressed in your Cat Woman costume. You loved Lois Lane but something about the powerful energy Selena Kyle had plus her sexy attire made you pick this instead. As you adjusted your all-black outfit in the mirror, you heard your boyfriend descend the stairs. You turned around to see him dressed in Superman’s signature costume. The costume was of surprising quality, perfectly defining your boyfriend's physique and making his butt look great.

“I heard there’s someone who needs a superhero,” he triumphantly said as he struck a pose. You smiled widely and took many pictures. “You look amazing, babe! This is just like the movies,” you said excitedly as you kissed him on the cheek. “Bought it just for you” he winked, “Gotta let you know who the real hero is.” You laughed and punched his arm lightly. “Let’s go my Lois Lane,” he said and you grabbed his hand, getting ready to face the world with your hero.

ghost: phoebe bridgers

Now Ghost isn't like the rest of the 141 boys, he won't let his jealousy get the better of him. BUT COME ON, you were in love with Phoebe Bridgers, the haunting singer of Boygenius whose grey hair glistened in the moonlight. You owned every single record of hers and constantly pined over the TikTok videos of her on Taylor Swift's tour. You even bought you and Ghost her matching sweatpants with bones on the front and her name on the butt. He wouldn't admit it but he did love her style. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little twinge of jealousy whenever Kyoto came on the radio.

While on duty, Ghost could feel his phone ring. He answered immediately, knowing you only called for emergencies. He was greeted by you screaming. "BOYGENIUS IS COMING TO LONDON WE HAVE TO GO!!" you yelled excitedly. Ghost mentally slapped himself, he would have to remind you that this line was only for major injuries or death. "Love, Boygenius is not an emergency," he said sternly before you responded, "SIMON, PHOEBE FUCKING BRIDGERS WILL BE SHARING THE SAME AIR AS US," you yelled back. Ghost was glad no one was around because he would never hear the end of it. "Calm down, I'll see what I can do," he said before reiterating his love for you and hanging up.

When Ghost returned home, you were in a deep depression. You opened the door and looked sadder than he had ever seen you. "What's wrong?" he asked, closing the door behind him and taking you into his arms. You let out a few tears as you sat on the couch together. He noted you were all decked out in one of your many Phoebe hoodies and shorts. "I wasn't able to get tickets," you sniffled, "they sold out immediately." You knew it was stupid but your heart was crushed. You would never get to see her live.

"Well good thing I know a thing or two about computers," he said before pulling out his phone to show you a confirmation email. Your eyes widened when you saw he had secured VIP tickets to meet the band and watch from the pit. "Happy anniversary, my love," he said and you were speechless for a moment. "Simon, I think I could marry you," you whispered as you hugged him tightly. "Anything for you darling," he said and kissed you. As you excitedly confirmed all the details and peeked at the set list, Ghost felt the need to poke fun at you. "Do you love her because she has a thing for skeletons too?" That earned him a light slap to the chest.

The day of the concert, you could've fainted upon meeting the band. They were all so much cooler than you could have ever imagined. As you talked Julien's and Lucy's ears off, Phoebe walked up to Ghost. "Sick mask dude, gotta get me one of those," she said in her deep, chill voice. Moments later, Ghost almost had to subdue you as you tried to force the mask off his face to give it to her.

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

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dailyadventureprompts · 6 months

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Tableskills: Creating Dread

I've often had a lot of problems telling scary stories at my table, whether it be in d&d or other horror focused games. I personally don't get scared easily, especially around "traditionally horrifying" things so it's hard for me to recreate that experience in others. Likewise, you can't just port horror movie iconography into tabletop and expect it to evoke genuine fear: I've already spoken of being bored out of my mind during the zombie apocalypse, and my few trips into ravenloft have all been filled with similar levels of limp and derivative grimdark.

It took me a long time (and a lot of video essays about films I'd never watched) to realize that in terms of an experience fear is a lot like a joke, in that it requires multiple steps of setup and payoff. Dread is that setup, it's the rising tension in a scene that makes the revelation worth it, the slow and literal rising of a rollercoaster before the drop. It's way easier to inspire dread in your party than it is to scare them apropos of nothing, which has the added flexibility of letting you choose just the right time to deliver the frights.

TLDR: You start with one of the basic human fears (guide to that below) to emotionally prime your players and introduce it to your party in a initially non-threataning manor. Then you introduce a more severe version of it in a way that has stakes but is not overwhelmingly scary just yet. You wait until they're neck deep in this second scenario before throwing in some kind of twist that forces them to confront their discomfort head on.

More advice (and spoilers for The Magnus Archives) below the cut.

Before we go any farther it's vitally important that you learn your party's limits and triggers before a game begins. A lot of ttrpg content can be downright horrifying without even trying to be, so it's critical you know how everyone in your party is going to react to something before you go into it. Whether or not you're running an actual horror game or just wanting to add some tension to an otherwise heroic romp, you and your group need to be on the same page about this, and discuss safety systems from session 0 onwards.

The Fundamental Fears: It may seem a bit basic but one of the greatest tools to help me understand different aspects of horror was the taxonomy invented by Jonathan Sims of The Magnus Archives podcast. He breaks down fear into different thematic and emotional through lines, each given a snappy name and iconography that's so memorable that I often joke it's the queer-horror version of pokemon types or hogwarts houses. If we start with a basic understanding of WHY people find things scary we learn just what dials we need turn in order to build dread in our players.

Implementation: Each of these examples is like a colour we can paint a scene or encounter with, flavouring it just so to tickle a particular, primal part of our party's brains. You don't have to do much, just something along the lines of "the upcoming cave tunnel is getting a little too close for comfort" or "the all-too thin walkway creaks under your weight ", or "what you don't see is the movement at the edge of the room". Once the seed is planted your party's' minds will do most of the work: humans are social, pattern seeking creatures, and the hint of danger to one member of the group will lay the groundwork of fear in all the rest.

The trick here is not to over commit, which is the mistake most ttrpgs make with horror: actually showing the monster, putting the party into a dangerous situation, that’s the finisher, the punchline of the joke. It’s also a release valve on all the pressure you’ve been hard at work building.

There’s nothing all that scary about fighting a level-appropriate number of skeletons, but forcing your party to creep through a series of dark, cobweb infested catacombs with the THREAT of being attacked by undead? That’s going to have them climbing the walls.

Let narration and bad dice rolls be your main tools here, driving home the discomfort, the risk, the looming threat.

Surprise: Now that you’ve got your party marinating in dread, what you want to do to really scare them is to throw a curve ball. Go back to that list and find another fear which either compliments or contrasts the original one you set up, and have it lurking juuuust out of reach ready to pop up at a moment of perfect tension like a jack in the box. The party is climbing down a slick interior of an underdark cavern, bottom nowhere in sight? They expect to to fall, but what they couldn't possibly expect is for a giant arm to reach out of the darkness and pull one of them down. Have the party figured out that there's a shapeshifter that's infiltrated the rebel meeting and is killing their allies? They suspect suspicion and lies but what they don't expect is for the rebel base to suddenly be on FIRE forcing them to run.

My expert advice is to lightly tease this second threat LONG before you introduce the initial scare. Your players will think you're a genius for doing what amounts to a little extra work, and curse themselves for not paying more attention.

Restraint: Less is more when it comes to scares, as if you do this trick too often your players are going to be inured to it. Try to do it maybe once an adventure, or dungeon level. Scares hit so much harder when the party isn't expecting them. If you're specifically playing in a "horror" game, it's a good idea to introduce a few false scares, or make multiple encounters part of the same bait and switch scare tactic: If we're going into the filthy gross sewer with mould and rot and rats and the like, you'll get more punch if the final challenge isn't corruption based, but is instead some new threat that we could have never prepared for.

Art

#tableskills #horror #spooky #halloween #the magnus archives #dm tip #dm advice #dm tips

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writingstreetspirit · 1 year

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You're an awesome writer ♡ so I want to request a lil blurb for neteyam x human reader where he Learns more about human stuff maybe trying new snacks with the reader or maybe even watching the reader do their skin care routine , etc. If you like this idea and okay with writing it, I will be grateful thankk you In advance 🤗💗

It’s…A Human Thing?

Summary: Neteyam learns things about being human through skincare

Pairing: Neteyam x Human!Reader

Warnings: May contain spoilers from ATWOW, reader uses makeup and skincare products

Word count: 0.4k

A/N: Hi lovely, sorry for the looong wait. I lost motivation there for a little while, but I finally got the spark to write back! Thank you for this adorable request, I enjoy making this small piece :)

—

”It’s…a human thing?” Neteyam’s intrigued, watching closely every move you make. How you go through some form of learned routine of rubbing, washing and massaging your delicate skin that is for once not covered by the breathing mask.

”Well, yeah. On Earth it’s pretty common to use makeup to feel more confidant or to enhance ones looks. And the face wash is to get rid of all the leftover gunk from my face before I go to bed.” You explained while simultaneously tapping a dot of the moisturizer on your nose, a dot on your forehead, one for each cheek, and finally your chin. You rubbed the moisturizer into your skin, looking back at Neteyam in the mirror every few seconds.

”Do you use…makeup, for confidence or to feel pretty? Because yawne (beloved), you don’t need it to look pretty, you are the most beautiful being I have ever lain eyes upon!” Neteyam is quick to say, sounding almost offended by the very thought that you doubted your own beauty. It made you smile at the Na’vi that would one day become your mate for life. Oh, how he made you happy.

”Thank you Neteyam, I know I don’t need it. I just like to explore and discover new things.” You reassured, leaning back to give Neteyam a small comforting kiss on his lips before you continued on with your routine by applying soothing oil under your eyes and on your cheeks.

”Can I do it?” Neteyam asked, head tilted to the side as he observed your hands move over your face. You looked back at him with a small confused smile. ”What? Applying the oil?”

Neteyam nodded, his yellow eyes never leaving your hands. You smiled, turning around to face the much taller boy. ”Yeah, sure. Go at it.”

His much bigger hands dwarfed your face has his fingers slowly massaged the liquid with the gentlest touch, the way he always touch you. As if you were his greatest treasure, which you very much are. Once Neteyam felt finished after what must have been minutes, he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips lovingly against yours before departing to press one on your forehead, one on each cheek and finally your nose.

”Thank you for the helping hand.” You laughed a little, cheeks slightly flushed from the affection. Neteyam laughed with you, arms creeping around your waist to playfully tug you closer. ”You’re welcome!”

Your mouth stretched into a yawn as your body sagged against Neteyam’s strong torso. ”I think it’s time for bed soon. Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

Neteyam guided you toward your bed in the corner of the room, practically lifting you off the floor. He nuzzled his face into the crock of your neck. ”I’ll stay as long as you want, yawne (beloved).”

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar neteyam #avatar x reader #neteyam x reader #avatar 2009 #avatar x y/n #avatar x you #avatar x human reader #atwow fanfiction #atwow x reader #atwow imagines #writingstreetspirit

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anundyingfidelity · 4 months

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NO SECOND CHANCES — Brother Day/Cleon XVII

Summary: A lonely space traveler happens to save from a certain death the most annoying person of the entire galaxy, the Emperor.

Pairing: Cleon XVII x female reader.

Word count: 8.1k. (oooops).

Warnings: well, spoilers for whole season 2. Language, angst (the reader wants to die, really). Talks about suicide, talks about suicide attempts, reader having nightmares, PTSD, reader is suffering too. Some hurt/comfort, some fluff? Filthy smut (included but not limited to hand jobs, unprotected sex, oral from both parts, dirty language, etc. etc.), and end of the world sex (to Beki's arsehole bitches yay🥂). Also Cleon refers to the reader as "woman" a couple of times lol. Reader has pierced ears? (wait for it). Bittersweet ending tbh.

Notes: just trying to make slow burn in a one shot because I'm a lazy fucker who doesn't like to write stories with chapters, otherwise I don't finish shit. Uh probably OOC Cleon??? I don't know. Fully inspired by my favorite trope ever: saving the bad guy and making him humble. I don't care we're four people watching Foundation, I need to write about this little piece of shit I love him so much. Cleon XVII is a himbo I said it. Not beta, we die like bitches of the Gossamer court.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

Tagging: @curiouswildi hope you like it 🥺💘

GEN MASTERLIST!

I. BEYOND

The last thing wandering his mind was Bel Riose. Fucking Bel Riose. That idiot. They had won over him; over him, who was Empire and still meant to be for years ahead. Next, the cold feeling of space was embracing him. But he felt he was not floating around anymore.

Cleon was tied to a surface. It felt like harsh, uncomfortable metal under his back. He slowly forced his eyes open, moving his limbs and trying to escape whatever it was restraining him to do so. His wrists and ankles, as his waist, were tied by a light blue particle field preventing the patient to move at all. He was met with the roof of a ship and equipment, but it wasn't any Imperial one. In panic, he moved until he was able to shake the surface he was on, panting and grunting, feeling some pain and sting resurging all over him. The headache was becoming unbearable and the sounds coming from his dry mouth finally transformed into screams. The room doors opened and a strange voice catched his attention.

"Finally, you're awake."

Cleon obliged to follow the shadow moving around, his eyes focusing to try and see who was talking. He heard steps and the sounds of metal and glass clinking around, probably looking for medication and tools as he was know fully concius. The figure finally came to view by his side.

"I will inject this, so don't move," you said, grabbing his bicep. Cleon was about to protest, but the needle was faster and the medicine was welcomed on his vurnerable system, easing the pain and calming down the headache. "Welcome back, Eminence," you smirked to him.

"And just so, who are you?" he asked chuckling to himself, licking his lips. "What have you done to me?"

"First, I saved your life and cleaned all your bloody wounds. You should say thanks at least," you sat down dangerously close by his side, on the same surface he was on.

"I did not ask you for mercy."

"Oh, but I did," you replied, a smirk on your lips. "Perhaps I shouldn't have, right?" you took a small pencil-like device in your hand from the pocket of your pants and used it to scan his vital signs. You touched his face carefully with your fingers, examining his eyes, his heartbeat, and any anomaly that might be on his system from head to toe, but the scanner found none. Cleon watched you doing so until he asked again, his voice softer this time.

"Who are you?"

"Just no one as important as you are," you said, saving the scanner back.

"Where are we?" Cleon asked, looking around. He observed he was placed in a small medical bay.

"In space, in the middle of nowhere I suppose," you shrugged, getting on your feet again. "It seems you're recovering quite well and fast. At least that's what my scanner says. So first, I think you should want some water, which I am leaving right here," you put a flask on the small table next to him. "And before I give you this to drink, I want to make sure you will not restrain or fight back at me."

He laughed, that narcissistic smile on his face. You wanted to punch him.

"You're no match for me, woman."

"Really? Then I could just throw you out there again, you know, it's not difficult. I'm spending resources on you, surely I won't oppose to that idea," you snapped back.

His smile faded slowly, thinking. If it wasn't for you, he would be dead by now, it was true. But he was so used to be immortal and undefeteable that the situation was kind of new. He only had been vulnerable and exposed to his doctors in the palace, and you were a complete stranger. And still, you had the heart to take him in your ship and save his life. He sighed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Fuck, fine. What do you want me to do?"

So this was his way of cooperating, you thought.

"After I turn off the restraints, you will have to sit down on the stretcher. I will help you. Do not try to get up yet, you might feel dizzy."

With a nod he said to you the orders were clear. Next, the restraints disappeared in the air with a push on a button and Cleon felt a small relief. As you promised, you helped him to sit and he realized that the clothes he had before were replaced with a set of new pale grey robes that allowed him to move freely. You offered the flask to his lips, but he watched you with a questioning look on his face.

"Is only water, I swear. See?" you had a small sip from the bottle and he looked more at ease after you swallowed the liquid.

You offered the bottle again and helped him to slowly drink. Once he was done, you placed a small tray with fruits and dry seeds on top of the same table beside the stretcher.

"You might want to eat something," you said, breaking the silence under his fixed gaze. Even when he was sitting down and you on your feet it felt rather intimidating. "I'm still collecting supplies and food. You were certainly not part of the plan these days."

"So you travel alone," Cleon said, taking a small red fruit between his fingers and began to eat it.

"I do," you nodded. "Sorry if the taste of the fruit is not pleasant."

"You're doing your best," he said while eating, studying the room around him. You were not sure if he was mocking you or not. "What was your name again?"

You chuckled. "You're very interesting, Empire. Why don't you finish eating and rest before taking a bath?"

The next few hours, you left him to rest and escorted him to your quaters, the only place with a comfortable bed, so he could get proper sleep. Since there were no further questions from him, you got to your business and requested more provisions to the merchants. Traveling alone had made you some contacts and traders, from time to time you would request for food giving in exchange money or rare knick knacks, and within a day you had a small capsule with supplements heading to your coordinates with everything you needed. You just had to wait for now.

After checking the estate of your ship and confirming everything was working correctly, you went back to your quaters to see how the Emperor was doing. You were startled to see him sitting on your bed with a book between his hands. He looked like he just had a bath because his shirt was gone and his hair was wet, some droplets running down his skin. Quickly, you studied him. He was handsome, muscular, his skin had a beautiful tan, and he was tall and heavy as hell, something you noticed when cleaning his wounds and taking him inside your ship. The earring on his left ear was also interesting, you thought, for a member of the most important dinasty of the galaxy. Very rebellious for the emperor.

You also knew he heard you steping in but never looked up from the book because he was the first one to talk.

"Never I could imagine you would have books in here," he said, clearly interested on the pages.

"Yeah, not all of us are barbarians as you work so hard to convice yourself we are."

He chuckled to himself, looking at you for the first time since you entered the room.

"Are you from Korell?"

"The book gave it away, didn't it."

"This is very old," he said, closing the book. "You are for sure not allowed to have this in Korell."

"That is one of the reasons I left," you replied, looking around the place. It was obvious to you that he was pearing within your personal stuff because the old myth book was secured down your mattress. At least he didn't leave a mess and everything seemed in the right place. "I was a threat in my planet so Argo kept looking for me for some conspiracy shit and terrorism when all I did was oppose myself to his repression and freakshow," you continued, his eyes drew back to you. "They wanted me dead in Korell, but I am the only one to decide that, even when and where will it happen."

Cleon shifted on his seat, wondering why you were sharing a piece of your life to him when he didn't even know your name yet. Words and thoughts wandered his head on how would he answer to your words, compassion or empathy sometimes were difficult things to feel. But before he was able to speak, you interrupted his thoughts.

"I will leave you alone to rest for a while and will come back when it's around supper. I follow Kornell cycle of time, so you know... Just don't poke around my underwear, Empire," you dragged his title mockingly.

He laughed softly, going back to his reading.

"Thank you for the idea."

That was the first time you would hear him expressing gratitude.

II. GHOSTS FROM THE PAST

Around more than a week passed, and Cleon was healing and his wounds were not so visible now. You made sure to inject him every day and gave your quaters and bed for him to sleep and recover. He had took a pad you had in the room so he could count the cycle of days in Trantor. Hardly to admit, he found himself missing home rather than hatred. Sometimes the rage mixed with sorrow, but he forced himself to try and understand that it was a normal feeling due to the sudden lose of everything he once had.

Cleon had been up from some time now as he counted the end of the eighth day on the pad, and wondered why your daily visit was taking so long. It was a habit you had, to come in and wake him up with the medicine, and after it was done, you would tell him to eat some of the fruits and food on the tray you brought for him. He got on his feet and put a shirt on before leaving the room to search for you. On the pilot cabin, you had an improvised, small stickable mattress on the wall that had saved your life before, so you used it to sleep and rest the past few days while he cured. Cleon observed your figure lying down on the mattress, walking slowly and sensing something was not right. He found you shaking and trembling, eyes still closed and chest heavily breathing as your hand held onto dear life what he realised it was a gun.

He felt somehow frightened and confused. If you wanted to kill him, you would already have done it. You had made yourself clear on that. The tremor of your body seemed it was increasing and Cleon, with a gentless he did not know he possesed, tried to soothe you with his voice, removing the gun from your embrace.

"Shh... everything is fine," he mumbled, not sure of his words, his other hand touching your shoulder in soft circles. He was able to withdraw the gun from your hands and placed it on the floating shelf near by.

Your eyes squeezed and some tears flowed down your face as you sobbed still in your sleep. Cleon hesitated on what to do next to wake you up. He leaned again, his hand slowly tracing the skin of your arm, like he did when his brother Dawn was a child.

"Woman? Wake up," he whispered, shaking you a little bit and pating your arm softly, and when he talked again, his voice was a little bit louder. "You're having a nightmare, wake up."

And as he repeated his words over and over, your eyes opened wide, feeling your lungs able to breath again. But your senses still were coming to awareness, and automatically you slapped the face of whoever it was touching your arm. You heard him groan in pain and you rolled over the mattres, until you hit the floor, taking out a small blade from below the makeshift pillow of fabrics you used. The blade pointing at him as you looked around the cabin to find out it was only both of you.

"What- are you okay?!" Cleon questioned with a frown, rubbing his hurting cheek as he remained on the other side of your bed, the only thing separating you from him was the mattress.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine!"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Of course you are not."

"Then why the fuck would you ask that?! It's obvious I'm not fine!" you yelled. Your body was tense and ready to attack. You felt a knot on your throat, like if you were to cry again. Silence envolved you, trying to calm down. That inner voice in your head began saying it was just a dream, and you wanted to believe it. It was all in your head. It was not real...

"Do you want to kill me?" Cleon's gloomy voice echoed.

"What? No! I would never-"

"Then why are you sleeping with a damn blaster shot and a blade on your bed?!" he confronted, screaming at you, but not daring to move as you also remained standing in the same place.

"Because I wanted to kill myself!" you yelled back, pointing the sharp of the knife to you instead. His face became stern and you realised what you had said, and what was happening. Ashamed, you threw the blade back under the pillow. "Sorry, I don't want you to know that. Forget it."

You wiped the tears on your face under his piercing and concerning eyes. You forced your head to compose and burry your nightmares and memories deep inside before talking.

"I have to inject you," you said and walked back to the room, sure he would follow behind. Once you crossed the doors, you prepared the needle but Cleon remained standing near the exit of your room the whole time, arms crossed over his chest, observing you with utter worry on his face. Why? He really did not know. Probably because you were the only human and intelligent contact he had for days now, and you had the decency to keep him alive. Though he was not going to let that in his head - yet.

"Why don't you seat?" you most likely ordered. Cleon slowly made his way to you and remained standing, tall and kind of threatening. He was Emperor, after all.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked with a careful tone.

"Nothing, Empire. Just sit," you said, coldly, waiting for him to do as you requested.

"No, I need to know," he demanded, coming closer to you, jaw clenching. Anger started taking over your being and held his gaze as you replied.

"I have the right to decide whether or not speak about my personal life, I am not one of your subjects, so sit the fuck down so I can give you the last dosis of this shit."

"I need to know if I can fucking trust you after what I just heard coming from your mouth," his voice boomed around the place.

"You really want to know?! Fine, back in Korell I lost my family, my brother, my parents, my home - everything I had they took it from me! I was the last one alive and I escaped after they killed my brother in front of me and that day is still haunting me," you muttered and felt the tears forming on your eyes, but this time, of rage. "So if it concerns your own well being, like it always has been, no, I will not kill you. But you are no Emperor here, so stop that game. Some of us never gave a fuck about you or the Empire, or the Foundation and Hari Seldon, or the Church of the Galactic Spirit -I don't care! I'm tired, I just want to be free and live peacefully!"

You had not noticed you stepped closer to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body. His face was blank, as if he had been slapped again, but this time to reality. A reality he was not familiar with on his own bubble.

Quickly you grabbed his bicep and injected the dosis with him standing up. He whined in surprise. It was fast. So fast that you just removed the needle from his flesh and left the room.

III. WHAT YOU REALLY KNOW

According to the Trantor cycle, evening should be now. When you left him alone in the room, Cleon spent the next hours by himself, and since he watched you looking up for garments and food around the ship before, he made sure to get those without speaking to you. Not that you wanted to talk either. He noticed you sitting on the main pilot seat, looking at the stars and the void through the glass the whole day. He got concerned for a moment, but decided to let you be as he, also, understood that some time alone was necessary.

However, Cleon thought to talk to you finally and say something. Anything to get you back to reality and forget your bad dreams. So he found himself making his way to sit on the other chair of the ship. He prepared the words to say inside his head, but it was more difficult to speak out loud.

"I think I owe you an apology," he finally said, taking in the view of space. You nodded slowly your head. Nobody turned to see each other.

"It's nothing. But apology accepted I guess."

"It's not nothing. I rarely thought about what other citizens and planets are going through... I'm so sorry it happened to you."

"I would like to say that was not your fault, but since the Empire withdrawal from Korell, living there definitely became so much worse," you confessed, very aware of the genetic dinasty and some of the things previous emperors did, which did not change much. They were the same man after all. Cloning again and again...

"Probably should apologise for that as well," he said.

"Yeah, it's too late, but thank you."

Cleon could still sense a feeling of resentment in your voice. He thought you were right to feel that way, but he was also going to try and make you understand him.

"I never had a mother, or a father, and my brothers are the same man as me, so it's hard to understand that some people lose their family and loved ones. I was born with that loss already... That's why I wanted to end the genetic dinasty."

"You are the eighteenth?" you asked, not knowing exactly why he was opening to you.

"The seventeenth."

"That's a lot of you though. Do you remember anything from the past?"

"I do not. But our memories are always saved. Everything that happens in Trantor is recorded and kept as data. If I want to know something about a previous Cleon, I would just request it."

You turned your gaze to finally see him, he looked in awe with space as he spoke.

"So what was your motive to destroy a planet?"

He turned his eyes to you. "I believe you didn't care about Empire or the Foundation."

"That doesn't mean I want to see a genocide, your Eminence."

Cleon stirred on his seat, with a strange feeling of guilt, sadness and regret. For some reason, the title falling off your lips made everything worse.

"You saw it," he said. "How? You're no part of the Foundation, at least you're lying to me."

"No, I am not! I did a stupid space jump without course and I ended here, unfortunately." You were growing tired of the conversation. "I don't know why we keep talking. We're both shitty people anyway."

Cleon chuckled, not to mock you, but because of the whole situation you were in together.

"I know you are. Brave enough to kill yourself, taking another life is nothing compared to your own."

You locked your gaze with his, thinking if he was he judging you or flattering you.

"And have you, like, tried to end with your life at some point? You must feel lonely, under the shadow of a clone, not allowing you to be, well, you."

He let out a deep breath, avoiding your eyes.

"I have not, but my genes are already compromised and adultered. No surprise if any of us dared to commit suicide before," he replied, looking to the void. "In any case, if something out of the ordinary is to happen to my brothers or myself, we have another clone with our same memories, same age, everything; prepared to be woken up and take our place. Like if we never existed."

"That's fucked up," you scoffed. "We are never trully free, are we."

You got on your feet to look up for something to eat and forget your small talk. You knew he had searched for fruits and dry food because you heard him moving around and then leaving a couple of times, but you had nothing through the whole day. Cleon followed your steps, leaving enough space between you both as you took a couple of apples, giving one to him.

"The jump, how did you do that?" he asked, taking a bite of the fruit. "You don't have spacers."

"The rebels are smart people. A lot of members of the Foundation replicated your technology."

"I thought you were not involved with them," he insisted.

"I am not, but I would never deny any help. That my support doesn't rely on them doesn't mean I will let a chance slide."

"You're not answering my question."

You pulled the sleeve of your shirt up to show your bare wrist to him. There was the same device Hober Mallow and the Clerics had, inserted on your skin.

"I use this.”

"This is a whisper ship," he mumbled.

"Smart. Yes, sort of."

Cleon scoffed. "So that means we can land somewhere."

"About that, uh, we can't."

He moved to throw the remainings of his fruit with a confused look. "Why?"

He heard your sigh as you covered your wrist again, looking away from his deep eyes.

"I- I threw myself to space because I wanted to kill myself," you started, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't care how long would take me, I just wanted to blow up my ship. Just end everything. But then I saw you, floating, dying... and for some reason I couldn't let you die. I didn't know who you were but I saved you. There's no energy or fuel to make another jump. I don't have that. We are far from what Terminus was now. From any planet, form of life or civilization... plus you are unarmed. You still are weak and anyone could kill you," you finished, and waiting for some reason that he could forgive you for giving him any sort of hope. "I'm sorry, Empire."

Beyond madness, Cleon felt you were worried for him. Not the kind of sentiment his brothers or palace workers would do, but a real one. Because you knew saving him was condemn him to death anyway. But this felt much better than dying alone. He had sins, past despiteful decisions and ghosts hunting him, as so were you. You just addressed your feelings and your life together in less than a day. And you were right, none of you were never trully free, but as crazy as it might be, being lost in space with you felt like freedom to him. Finally, he was far away from everything that was keeping chained to a life and responsibilities he never asked for, living under the shadow of an egotistical emperor.

There was a strong impulse growing inside him and before his rational voice began to scream it was a bad idea to continue, he had cupped your cheeks between his hands and his lips pressing hungrily against yours. You whined, surprised of the warm feeling of his mouth, his tongue hurriedly asking for permission to taste you. When oxygen was not enough you pulled away, shocked and panting. You barely noticed your hand around his forearm, recovering yourself from the best kiss you had in some time.

"Cleon," he whispered, kissing your lips one more time.

"What?"

"Just call me Cleon. I'm not Empire anymore."

You kissed him in response with the same eagerness he had before, heart beating strongly in your chest. His hands caressed every inch of your body, from your neck, breasts, your hips, your soft thighs, your ass... he touched you with desperate fire while you moaned against his mouth, liking where was this leading you, more than you wanted to admit.

That was the first time you gave in to him completely.

IV. TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED

You moaned against his lips, those that forcefuly broke the heated kiss you shared as he ruts into you desperately to reach his own climax. His flesh hitting against yours made an obscene harmony that echoed the confines the ship, far from civil and coherent noises fell from his lips as he sucked into the skin of your neck.

"Fuck, yes, right there," a broken whimper escaped your throat, your nails scratching his back, your walls clenching around his cock. "Cleon..."

The sound of his name being moaned by your sweet, raspy voice, caused him to slow down his thrusts just a bit.

"I still don't know your name," he whispered, bitting your bottom lip only to kiss you wet again.

"And yet you're fucking me, isn't that enough?" you teased, rolling your hips to meet his own.

He gave you a smirk, that fucking handsome smirk you hated so much. He took you with his strong arms, flipping you around so he was now on his back and you got control on top of him. You sinked down his dick setting a reckless rhythm, his thrusts matching yours every time you went down, his grip hard on your waist, marking and bruising your skin. One of his hands massaged your bouncing breasts, one after the other, pinching and then, you felt his mouth biting your nipples and chest, as he leaned your body to him for easy access, with slow grunts and groans that didn't sound human anymore.

His cock repeatedly hit that sweet spot from the position you were taking him, increasing the tension inside you. The sensation of his hands coming back to your sides and making its way to your ass cheeks to guide your bouncing hips became too much so soon. You cried as you felt drunk and high, muscles tense as you finally came. Cleon held you tight, fucking into you as you reached sweet release. His tongue traveled down your collarbone and breasts.

"Cleon," you moaned, your hands on his chest to support your body better. You felt him twitch inside you, knowing he was dangerously close too. Quickly, you slid off him, taking his girth, slick with your own wetness, between your hand you pumped him hard, easing his own release. His seed coated your palm, sprinkling on his abdomen.

"Shit, you're great," he praised, voice dark from lust. His fingers tangled into your hair, his forehead against yours as you recovered from the intense sex session you had for the second time that day. He kissed you sweetly, like a sweetness he only had discovered in the short time with you. "I wish I could know your name."

"You can call me your savior," you gave him a playful smile.

After a shared lazy kiss, you got on your feet, legs still shaking, and left the bed to clean yourself in the small place you called bathroom right next to the only room of the ship. Once finished, you threw the cloth away, and looked directly the mirror, or poor attempt of it. In the damp glass, you watched Cleon appear to embrace your body against his, your back touching his chest muscles and his hands roamed your abdomen while he left butterfly kisses on your shoulder. His big arms around you, pressing your figure to his own, huge in comparison entrusting protection.

The nineteenth day it was, and you spent it exploring your pleassures, talking nonsense and overall for Cleon, thinking he might love you. The confinement had flourished different kinds of feelings and sentiments inside his heart. He finally learned to feel something else besides hatred, power, or selfishness. The more you spoke to him, the more he grew to like you. You were far from perfect and so was he, and the way you opened your heart to him - the man who was to wed a powerful queen, govern thrillions of people around the galaxy and kill a few others - caused him to feel unworthy of anything coming from you. The man he grew up to be slowly disappeared as long as you had him under your light and spirit; his old self was fading away. And it scared him, but excited him at the same time. Even when he was very aware you were near the end together, he had nothing to ask for but to perish with you.

"What's in your head?" you whispered.

Cleon had no longer been tasting the skin of your neck, his chin pressed on your shoulder instead with his mind running a million thoughts by now. He took a glance at the damp and dirty mirror of how perfect you looked, bare and exposed in body and soul, only for his eyes to witness the true beauty of being alive. Of being human.

"You."

A loving smile curled up on your lips, looking directly into his enamoured gaze through the mirror. He decided he wanted to remember you like this in the afterlife.

You finished marking the last spot with an 'x', a wide grin over your face.

"I won."

"Yet again," Cleon chuckled. His laugh had grew sincere with you as he settled on the floor on the cold floor of the pilot cabin, just giving enough space for the board between you and him. "And what is your question, person-I-not-know-the-name-of?"

You just had finished playing another round of a silly game. It was an old Terran game, and you were surprised it made it this far across the galaxy. It was good to pass the time though. It kept you and Cleon thinking about other things besides dying. The fuel and energy, along with the water, were lowering on their levels. Food on the other hand was not a worry, you knew you could request to the traders as long as energy was functioning to make communication with them. However, the energy of your ship had to be loaded in land, just like fuel. And you had no place to go now to do that.

Being together as long as you had the resources was the main goal now. So many things crossed your mind as you talked about everything and nothing at the same time the past days.

"Have you ever been in love?" you asked after some time thinking.

You thought maybe it was the first time in Cleon's life that he was finally able to think and behave on his own, with no burdens about a dinasty to protect or pleasing his council.

He was taken by surprise as you spoke. He immediately remembered Demerzel, his loyal advisor. His relationship was merely sexual, but there were no feelings that would assimilate to what love is in reality. For sure, his own clone should have been woken up by now with no further consequences. For Cleon, it felt like he was actually erased from existence forever. He was disposable, just like his brothers. But thinking about your question, his answer was no. He never knew what love was. Not from Demerzel, certainly not from Dusk, Dawn was slightly different though, he did love Dawn but not the way you were referring to. He never knew the love from a mother or a father, nor family. Sareth hated him, so even if they got to marry he knew there would be no space for such sentiment. His own future children with the Queen of Cloud Dominion would have grown up without an essential part of being human.

"No," Cleon finally gave an answer, his gaze went soft as he realised what you just became to him in a matter of days. "However I sense something different when I am with you. And I don't recall to know what that is."

You smiled. "Isolation tends to create adjustments in those who suffer it."

"And have you?" Cleon asked back. "Have you ever felt it before?"

"I did... With my parents, my brother, my best friends, and a couple of assholes who broke my heart."

He chuckled, admiring the charm you had to brush off the hardships in your life. You smiled back at him. Gods you loved seeing him like this, like if he was happy and nothing had happened.

"And how is it?" he said.

"It's affection, it's addictive, not everyone can escape from it. You feel like you belong somewhere, that your life is strangely complete," you mumbled, locking your gaze with his own. "And it hurts a lot. But as you go through that path, you get to know the most beautiful kind of pain."

"Does it hurt now?"

You swallowed hard, that familiar knot on your throat. You were not expecting to feel this way. Not for the Emperor, not for the clone, not for Cleon. Yet one does not control love. You don't decide to love someone without a reason. And what else could two lost souls do in the middle of the galaxy with no purpose but to wait and die? You had opened your deepest fears and secrets to him, not expecting Cleon doing exactly the same. He trusted you and you trusted him. You slept in the same bed, ate the same food and fruits, fucked like animals everyday and yet there was an emotional connection in between you thought would never know again after so many years. How could you not fall for him when everything was crumbling? Finally, you nodded your head, feeling the tears burning in your eyes.

"I always have been alone, Cleon, but my soul seems to have a little love to give. In the end, love is what makes us human."

Cleon put the board of the game away and leaned closer to you, his hand caressed your cheek, cleaning the tears falling down your face as he pressed his forehead with yours. He kissed you softly, swallowing your pain, as a way to say he was hurting too.

V. VOYAGE

It was the thirtieth day on the ship.

Your last try to get and land in any planet failed. As much as Cleon told you to stop, that everything was fine, you felt you had to keep trying until your last day. But the ship was basically to zero fuel and soon energy will follow. You used the control panel of the ship, hopefuly to find a near by land, but luck was not on your side. There was nothing. You don't know exactly how many miles you traveled with no course for a month. It was getting beyond bearing.

Frustrated, you pulled away the holo of the map and the calculations you did in the air, throwing a lose screw of your seat directly to the glass. It did nothing, but you were starting to hate the view of the stars and nothingness sorrounding.

"I told you to stop that," you listened to Cleon, who seemed just arrived to the pilot cabin.

"I had to try," you stood up, walking towards him. Your arms embraced his waist and he took you in with the same warmth.

"You're worried."

"I am not," you whined. "I should have sent for help with the merchants."

Cleon broke your hug and cupped your face between his hands, leaning closer to you.

"No, we should end this now," he whispered, his brows furrowed.

"No!"

"Why not? You wanted to do it even before you found me."

"Because now ending me is ending you too!"

Cleon felt your pain, but there was no other option to make than to blow up the ship anyway. Even if you were to land somewhere, what was for him? You were not able to go back home, and Cleon was discarded at this point. The throne could not have two of the same in the middle. Hiding and running away sounded like a good choice, but still, where? There was nothing left, but he found comfort with you.

"I am okay with this," he said. "I told you. You have to do it."

"Cleon-" you plea was cut by his voice.

"How much time do we have?"

"I don't know, a couple of days at last."

"Then do it. You said you were to decide when and how you would die, this is the time," he remembered with a stern voice. "Take it."

You let out a shaky breath and pushed him to press your lips to his own, like saying goodbye. But you still would not accept this fate. Not like this. You kissed him with hunger and need, your tongues tangled up as your mouths danced together.

"I just have- I can't yet," you mumbled once the kiss was over, leaving you both seeking for air. "Can we just fuck each others brains again and pretend none of this happened for a moment?" you asked against his lips, your hand now on his cheek, caressing the stubble on his face. You always remembered to help him shave and that was one of the most normal things you had to do since you found yourself confined with him. The most casual and mundane things to do became

He nodded. "Yes, my love.”

Cleon kissed your lips with the same hunger and desire, his hands caressing every inch of you until he lifted you up, your legs quickly went around his waist. With eyes closed, you let him guide you to the bar fixed against the wall of your ship.

He made sure to throw everything that was on the surface to the ground to place you in there. Once you were sitting, he pulled your legs apart to stand in the middle of them, and full with lust, his lips and teeth marked your neck and collarbone. You moaned sweetly, palming his groin still covered with the fabric of his pants. He traveled down your breasts, kissing over your shirt until he took it off. He was lucky you decided not to wear bra anymore. He sucked on your tits and nipples, grinding his hips against your hand.

You tried to pull his pants away, but he finished the job first, pulling away from your chest. After his pants were discarded, his shirt followed. He also got used to no underwear so he stood exposed all for you. A true god he was, looking perfect and like if every inch of his body was created for you to worship completely.

Cleon hurried in getting you out of your clothes, and in minutes you were naked and feeling his tongue dancing on your belly. His fingers and massive hands teasing your thighs, avoiding the place where you needed them the most. You moaned when he finally used a single digit to rub your slit, collecting your wetness. He rubbed your clit, mouth going slow and dangerously close to your pussy.

You laid your back on the bar and Cleon grabbed your thighs to have you exactly at the edge of the surface, ready to eat from your heat.

"Cleon," you cried out his name, your fingers tangled on his hair as his tongue licked your most sensitive parts.

He kept your hips in place, fucking you with his tongue and licking your folds, going to your clit. You couldn't help but whimper and moan, removing his hair to see just how much he yearned your cunt.

You tried to roll your hips but his grip was too strong. He looked up to lock his dark gaze with you, his humming creating strong vibrations down your core. He played some more, using a finger to tease your entrance. You were about to cum just by watching him.

"Cleon, please-" you gasped when he inserted a finger inside you, thrusting slowly. "Please, I want to taste you too."

He stopped, looking your flushed face for a moment. Your eyes were begging to suck him right now. He released your pussy with an obscene sound, pulling his tongue and hand away, but your wetness still shined on him. You got on the ground with his help and started to kneel down, kissing his skin, from his chest and then abdomen, licking and biting to leave your marks on his sculptured muscles. You made sure to adore and suck the skin of his navel, knowing he was insecure with not having a belly button. Still without it, he was more human than he could ever get to accept because you have seen that on him.

Cleon grunted once your hand wrapped around him, his hand on your scalp. You gave him a far from innocent look from your position before licking the head, rolling your tongue around it, lubing it with your saliva. His desperate groans led you to wrap your lips around him, pumping with your hand what you couldn't reach with your throat yet. You had to learn he was big for you, so a little of warm up for your mouth was a good start.

He cursed under his breath, thrusting his hips a little to go further, slowly, and you welcomed his cock with a small gag once he reached the back of your throat. He moaned darkly, your rubbed your thighs together when he started to fuck your mouth. Both his hands taking the sides of your head as you choked and gagged around his lenght. You felt him throbbing but he quickly pulled out, and left you empty and with drool falling from your lips, your pussy now aching and clenching around nothing.

"So beautiful," he purred, the touch on your scalp soft now. "But I want to finish inside you."

You nodded, obedient. Cleon helped you to sit down on the bar again, he stayed between your legs, spreading them wide, you held onto him, arms around his neck. He entered slowly, the warmth of your walls swallowing his cock, inch by inch, until it disappeared completely inside your dripping cunt.

You shivered, broken moans falling from your lips. Cleon muffled your low cries with kisses, waiting for you to get used to him.

"Fuck me, Cleon," you mumbled against his swollen lips.

He complied happily, thrusting and pounding into your heat, with a frenetic and brutal pace you had learn to love. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, yor nails scratching his arms and back. His cock touched all the right places inside you and he whispered sweet nothings into your skin, fucking you right under the light of the stars and the void of space.

He moaned along with you, wishing heaven or whatever it was after felt exactly like this. Like you, with your arms around him, your sweet voice calling his name lovingly and whimpering for more, giving your soul to him and only him. Your walls started to clench and his hips stuttered, aproaching a craving release. But in between, he heard a word against his ear you never mumbled before, turning his lustful eyes to you and slowing down his thrusts.

You repeated it again, he was visibly confused but kept ruting into you.

"My name," you said, fingers now caressing his hair.

He smiled. He knew it now. The stranger who saved him had a name after all. Cleon kissed you fiercely, repeating your name again and again between wet kisses. You were close to release, feeling one of his digits rubbing your clit as you moaned together. The wave of electricity took your body first, clenching your pussy around his cock. Cleon followed soon after, rhythm slow and tense muscles, until he spilled inside you, coating your sensitive cunt with his seed.

Catching your breath, you remained together. He sucked on your neck softly, your name was the only thought inside his mind. And as much as you loved his touch on you, you remembered there was something to do still.

"Cleon," you called, getting his attention and feeling he was pulling out of you with a low groan. He looked at you with loving eyes and you smiled. You brushed his hair with your fingers pulling him to yet another smooth kiss. "It's time."

He knew it was. In silence his fingers found his earring, twitsting it and pulling it apart. He took it from his ear and placed it on yours carefully. You were always amazed at his touch, how rough and yet soft and gentle he could be.

"So you can remember me," he smiled when he was over. You let out a laugh and curved your llps in a grin. "It suits you."

"Thanks, Cleon."

Cleon leaned down to kiss you one more time before cleaning both of you. You dressed together as if you were not about to meet finally death. For some reason, you saved everything that was not on their cabinets or initial positions, packing all you could, like if you could take those belongings with you, most of which were from your family. One day Cleon asked why you had clothes that could meet his height, being taller than a lot of people around. You told him it was from your best friend. You thought every piece of clothes or souvenirs would help someday, but it never crossed your mind that it was going to be this way.

When everything was was done, you and Cleon settled in front of the control panel, however, before you could start the holo, a loud explosion could be heard. You frowned, turning to Cleon.

"Did you-? Ah!"

The ship almost overturned as something heavy hit the side, making you trip and fall over with Cleon on the ground. Again, an explosion was heard, far from the ship but clear enough to say it was getting closer, and seconds later, the ship got hit but this time on the glass, almost breaking it over. Quickly, you both stood up and saw what was happening.

"A black hole..."

"Look, there are debris around," you pointed a huge piece that looked the size of your ship, but that definitely was part of a much bigger one. You saw the debris and metal being swallowed and destroyed by the black hole. It wasn't pacing fast, but wasn't slow either. It looked like it was talking its time for much bigger things to eat, such as your ship. Cleon called you, taking your hands and pressing his forehead to yours. You could feel he was shaking, and your skin grew cold. You realised it was really happening now.

"Do it," he said. "Destroy the ship."

After a moment of hesitation, you gave a nod. He kissed you deeply again. You turned the holo to activate the ship and program its own destruction.

"Self-destruction mechanism activated," the computer confirmed.

"We have sixty seconds," you mumbled, tears already forming in your eyes. He cut you off with a kiss. You would miss those warm lips on yours.

"That's enough for me," he said. You smiled and he did the same.

"I love you, Cleon," you embraced his body with a hug. "I am happy I met this kind of pain with you."

He cupped your cheeks, pecking your lips, smiling down at you, saying I love you too. You, the one who saved him and gave him a second chance. Or at least a moment of relief. A place and a person who allowed him to be himself and find things he never knew would have.

"We have more in common now," he whispered. "We are both alone and hurting somewhere in the galaxy.”

#brother day x female reader #brother day smut #brother day x reader #cleon xvii #cleon xvii x reader #cleon xvii smut #foundation 2021 #foundation fanfiction #foundation apple tv #foundation imagines #isaac asimov foundation #lee pace #lee pace fanfiction #lee pace x reader #lee pace smut #brother day foundation #foundation season 2

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buckgasms · 1 year

Text

Game Day

Y'all...... This might be the filthiest thing i have ever ever written 🫣🫣🫣 like omg it's really, so dirty!

Without spoilers this is a dark fic with elements of dub-con and if that makes you uncomfortable please do not engage!

Plot: Bucky shares you with his close friends and you don't know it's happening until it's happening 🎀

Special thanks to @imyourbratzdoll for encouraging me and coming up with some of the filth that features here! Lysm 🖤

You should have known something was amiss when Bucky insisted he choose your outfit for this evening. Even more so that he chose a tiny skirt, barely covering your ass and a sheer white top. He finally finished off the look with your bunny ears and attached a pink collar around your neck.

"Bucky... I only wear this when we have our nights together" you pout and fiddle with the hem of your top. He saunters forward, pinching your chin and tilting your head upwards, meeting your gaze. "Just for tonight baby, don't make a fuss."

You didn't feel better but he ignored your moans and bent you over. "Baby if you don't shut up your whining I'm gonna put this plug in dry ok?" He shot, landing a swat on your ass cheek.

Your whimper died in your throat and he took your silence to be your agreement, continuing to prepare you for the evening.

"I want my bunny ready to use" he said as he worked your holes, satisfied by your soft breaths. "Although.... You're always ready for me aren't you pretty baby?"

"Yes Bucky, always good for you" you moaned as he lubed up your ass and probed his fingers in. Before long you felt the familiar cold steel pressing against your puckered hole.

"Take it all Bunny, relax and take it for me" he hisses as he watches it slide in. He stands you up and smiles at the strained look on your face, eyes already glassy. "That's it bunny, my good girl."

🖤

So you were perched on his lap, plug sitting snugly in your ass, jolting you every so often as he bounced you on his knee.

You were surrounded by Bucky's friends, all of whom had openly approved of your outfit. You blushed and thanked them before heading off to get Bucky's beer from the kitchen.

It was a smaller group than usual today. Only Bucky's closest friends, Steve of course, Sam, Nick and Lee were attending the game night tonight. You were disappointed to find none of them had brought a girl tonight. It was sometimes nice to have some female company when sports facts were being thrown around, but you supposed Bucky might keep you occupied as you headed back into the living room.

"There's my girl" he smiled and pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your hair and running his fingers gently over the plug. You flushed but managed to kiss him back before you were pulled into his lap, to watch the game.

🖤

"Bunny...?" Bucky whispered in your ear and you glanced at him, before watching his hands snake around your waist to rest on your thighs. "What?" You whisper back, smiling a little as he jiggled you around. "I'm bored, wanna play with your pussy."

Your eyes widened and you looked around the room. It didn't seem like anyone heard, but you leaned in closer just in case. "We can't Bucky! Not here!" He looked around and clicked his tongue. "Yeah I guess you're right... I tell you what, go into the room next door and wait for me. I'll come join you in a bit, that way no one will know."

You grinned and giggled quietly at him before nodding. You sat back for a moment before the excitement got to you and you hopped out of his lap and scurried into the other room.

🖤

You figured Bucky would like it if you were on your knees, so you knelt in the middle of the room, undid a few buttons and readjusted your bunny ears.

You heard the guys in the room next door groan as you did. You wondered if there had been a missed goal, although it sounded... Different.

You waited until finally Bucky appeared, and slipped quietly into the room. He stalked over and smiled at you. "Such a good bunny, waiting for me like this." You smiled, pleased he had noticed. "God those guys have no idea what a perfect little fuck bunny I have do they? Wish they could have you huh?"

You giggled as he slipped his thumb in your mouth and you greedily sucked. Your hands quickly moved to his shorts and pulled them down, sucking harder on his thumb as his thick cock sprang free. He stroked himself, occasionally rubbing his precum over your lips and cheeks. "Tell me what you like baby bunny, wanna hear your dirty secrets..."

Thinking it was a little game you listed off your favourite things. Sucking his cock until you choke, when he fucks you like a slut, when he uses his hands on you, you like when he plays with both holes, "choke me, slap me, use me Bucky" you panted as your hands gripped his thigh. You heard another groan from the other room, and Bucky chuckled, hand running through your locks. "All right baby, take your clothes off and show me where you need it..."

You scramble to your feet and shimmy out of your skirt and top. He manhandles you around to check on the plug, wiggling it around and making your whimper. His other hand rakes up your thigh before pressing through your soaked folds. Your knees buckle as he rubs at your heat and moves the plug in tandem. Your moan fills the room and echos a little kn the unusually quiet house.

"Bunny, if someone hears us they'll come in. And if they come in, I ain't sending them away, you hear me?"

Your stomach flips and you nod, hand flying to your mouth as you nibble your fingers. "I'll be quiet promise" you whisper and he nods, resuming his torture.

🖤

What you don't know, is that you are putting on a show for the whole room next door. The remaining men are sitting there, watching Bucky play with you like a doll. They've been waiting for the word, for Bucky to get you prepared for what's to come. He promised them all a turn on his pretty bunny.

He was sick of them eyeing you up, but he also couldn't get the idea of you being used by all of them out of his head. So, with Steve's help he fitted out a room with cameras so they could watch, and film your destruction. It was unbearable waiting for this day, for this moment. But here it was...

"Can't we just go in now?" Lee drawled readjusting himself as he watched Bucky start fucking your throat on the big screen.

"No" snapped Steve, "she's gotta be ready or she'll fight it. We wait now, and we get to do what we like later..."

Lee smiled and cursed as he watched tears track down your pretty face. What he'd do to have to himself...

"Can't fucking believe this is real" Nick muttered, not even trying to hide his arousal, "she's so... Filthy" he said, mostly to himself as Bucky dragged you smiling across the room to rest on your hands and knees right in front of a hidden camera.

"Christ, look at her face... So fucked out already" Sam said, "bet Fowler's never made a girl look like that before" which earned a laugh from the other men and a scowl from Nick. "Fuck off Wilson, bet I can make her squirt before you do."

They continued to bicker and throw bets and money about before Steve cut across them all.

"Get ready... She's almost there."

They all quietened down again as they watched your blissed out face react to Bucky taking you from behind. His hand gripped your hair and pulled your face higher.

"Smile bunny, you're on camera"

🖤

In your fucked out state you didn't really hear what he said, but you smiled and thanked him for fucking you. That was normally what he wanted.

You then felt him pull out and his fingers swirl around your clit before rubbing harshly at your sensitive folds. You couldn't contain the squeal that left your lips, but before you could stop yourself the door clicked open.

You tried to stop, to make Bucky hold back but his hands never stopped as you watched Steve, Sam, Lee, and Nick walk in the room. They looked excited, amused and hungry for you.

Finally Bucky halted his actions, wrapping his arms around your retreating form and leaving you held open for them to see. "Oh dear bunny, I guess they heard you being a little slut didn't they?" You whimpered and tried again to hide your body. "Nu-uh baby girl. Don't be all shy now, when you didn't care before... Told ya, if they come in, they get a go on you. You did this to yourself slutty bunny."

You wanted to sob and scream, but you just sat on the floor as they all towered over you. Your lower half was buzzing and your brain was on a time delay. Surely they were joking?

"Bucky's told us about your mouth Bunny. Why don't you show us how good it is?" Sam reached out and flicked your bunny ears, before trailing a finger down your cheek. You looked to Bucky for help, but all he did was roll his eyes and grab your hair before shoving your face directly towards Sam's crotch.

He was more prepared than you, gripping his dick as you were pushed closer. You opened your mouth on instinct and took him as far as you could. He was longer than Bucky, so it choked you quicker than you were used to.

As you choked and gagged the other men sprung into movement. You saw pants being removed and cocks being pulled into view. You were now in the centre of a very impatient group of guys, all wanting a piece of you.

"Use your hands bunny" a voice commanded and you did as you were told, gripping unknown dicks and stroking as Sam used you for a while longer. "Come on Wilson, don't be a fucking hog" you recognised Lee's voice before you were dragged off Sam and another length was rammed down your throat before you could even blink. Your hands fumbled and your eyes streamed as they used you. Eventually hands drifted down to your throbbing heat. "Fuck she loves it" Steve growled as his fingers sank into your soaking heat. You moaned around a cock and Nick swore loudly as the sensitivity pulsed through him.

"Please, please" you begged as Steve flexed his fingers inside you, your pleasure reaching a new high as your mouth was refilled and hands tweaked at your nipples and pulled your hair. "Don't you fucking dare come Bunny" Bucky's voice cut through the haze, "you haven't done a thing to earn it yet. Lazy sluts don't get to come..."

They all chuckled as you were lifted up like a toy and carried to the couch. You lay on Steve's body, his cock brushing against your soaked heat, and you finally had a good look at them all. They were all gorgeous in their own ways but you still felt like this was wrong, but Bucky said it was your fault?

Bucky leaned over you and pressed a kiss to your lips. Tears stung your eyes but he just laughed before pulling the plug out of your ass. "Made sure she was nice and stretched out for you guys... Don't waste it..." That didn't make sense you thought, but Steve lined up his thick dick and sank into your puckered hole making you wail in pleasure and pain. "Fuck that's nice" he growled in your ear as your pussy was filled by Nick, his hands slapping at your breasts and face. "God what a whore" he muttered as tears leaked down your face.

Bucky leaned over again and licked them away, his hand drifting softly through your hair. "Don't cry silly bunny, you like this don't you? Like being a little slut for me and my pals?" You didn't have time to respond before Lee was climbing upwards and shoving his dick in your face. With a hard pinch from Bucky you opened up and took him all the way, the airtight sensation had you overwhelmed in seconds.

The alternating thrusts and touching had you coming quickly to a high. "Fucking watch this Wilson" Nick muttered before pulling out and thrusting two fingers straight in your cunt, flexing fast. You screamed around Lee's cock as you squirted, Steve groaned underneath as you squeezed him like a vice. "Fuck sake Fowler" growled Lee as he allowed you a moments breath before continuing.

"Not bad Nick" Sam mocked, "for a first try" he chuckled before replacing Nick at your pussy and sinking in. You groaned again, as the thickness made your holes ache. Lee finally pulled away, moaning about showboating assholes and you could take a deep breath as Bucky's two best friends fucked you in tandem. Your boyfriend appeared back at your side, wiping your drool over your face.

"So pretty hmm? You like getting fucked by my friends bunny?" As he spoke Sam and Steve fucked you harder and deeper, making your eyes roll and a string of curses left your lips. "Keep going guys, she's still got miles in her yet." They all laughed again and jeered as Bucky spat on your face and you instinctively licked it up.

"I want her ass" Lee growled, eyeing you impatiently as you bounced up and down. "One sec" Sam grinned before he too, pulled out and sank his fingers in to you. This time you could see your release spray over him, you screamed and cried out, held firm by Steve's strong hands. When you finished he wiped his hand on your face before striding over to Nick and waving his wet hand. "That's how you do it."

You sank to the floor but Lee was on you, pushing your head to the floor with his foot he pressed down until your ass was in the air. He sank into your ass and fucked with abandon, you could feel him spit on you as he did it, making your walls flutter, much to your embarrassment. You wailed and cried, but no one cared, they just continued to use you, swapping places every few minutes until you weren't sure who was using you when.

"Show me my Bunny" you heard Bucky say after a little while of this treatment. You were pushed over to lay on the floor, limbs flopping to either side, your body covered in red marks, spit and sweat. He added a few more of his own before pushing your legs up and folding you in half before sinking his cock in. "We're gonna fill you up, cover you in come, make you swallow it. Whatever we want bunny, then I'll let you rest."

You whined and cried as he pinched your clit hard, before rubbing it and making your legs shake. "Say you want it, tell us you want it..." He growled and you wailed out your need for them. Anything to call time to this game. He gripped your hips and fucked hard, your walls fluttering again as he worked his magic. "Bucky please..." You whimpered and he grinned before rubbing at your clit again. "Come now bunny, come for me..."

Your eyes rolled backwards and your limbs shook as you felt him fill you up with his release. "Atta girl" he groaned before standing up and carrying you over to the sofa again. "She's all yours" he said putting your head on his lap and stroking your hair as they descended upon you once more. Nick wanted your mouth again so he settled in, fucking you fast and hard before he was spilling over your lips and cheek. But you could barely register because Steve was using your abused pussy as his own personal fuck toy, his growls making you weak. He pulls out to come on your stomach as his place is filled by Sam, who fucks in tandem with Lee who is using your mouth. Your hand grips Bucky's who is holding yours as the stimulation drags you closer to another peak.

"So. Fucking. Pretty" Lee growls as he chokes you through his orgasm, making sure you swallow him all down. Your breath shudders as Sam finally finishes, adding his mess to Steve's.

You lay on the sofa, body twitching, limbs throbbing and everything else aching. "Bunny.... Don't forget your manners" Bucky says, stroking his hand through your hair and your lip trembles as you look at them all and croak a "thank you". There's an air of tension in the room, as if they don't want to leave, but Bucky takes back the reins and says casually, "Game must be back on by now? Shall we go and see what the score is?" They all chuckle before pulling their clothes on and heading out of the room.

You lay on his lap, whining and disorientated as he leans over so you are looking at him. He's got the devil in his eye and it makes you swallow hard.

"My turn..."

#dark!bucky x y/n #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut

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bamsara · 2 years

Note

Oo oo oooh number 7?

Drunk! Reader x DCA (Moon Centric) Set Post-Fire / DCA is living with Reader. May contain slight spoilers for Solar Lunacy ARC 3.

AO3 Link (preferred if you want to comment!)

NOTE: This one was HIGHLY requested by several people omg. This one-shot is leaning more romantic, contains drinking and suggestive humor. Moon is caring for a drunken reader. Wordcount: 3,700+

It started out as a friendly invite from a couple of classmates, a few who's names you remember and some others that you'd hardly recall their faces, but you all faced the same hellish finals together, neck deep in studying and deadlines that the lack of aqqauintance with them didn't so much as matter as the mutual understanding that college was hell, and final exams were the metaphorical boss battle you all had to face against.

You pass by the skin of your teeth. Between what was happening outside of classes and your own habit of procastinating, you were close to calling it quits for the semester. But Sun was helpful going over the material for you, and Moon kept you from being distracted, so you pass. Barely, and you're already stressed to the nines, but it's enough.

So when your classmate messages the class's group chat (much to the proffessor's charigin) about a group outing at a local bar to celebrate, you agree. You haven't been able to be social lately, and some reprieve was needed. You didn't really drink, and the bar wasn't really your style, but a change of pace was in order. Gramps promises to answer the door for the Attendants if something came up, but they liked to bother him reguardless when you weren't home, so you leave with a quick goodbye to do a little celebratory socializing.

And that's how you're....here. Drunk and alone.

Turns out after the first hour, everyone scampered off to go get hitched or call it for the night. It was nice, but a majority of them are dispersed by now or in pockets, save for one classmate (Brittney? Becky? You don't remember) who's actaully chatting it up with the robot bartender.

She's twirling her hair around her finger and blantently flirting with the robot in plain view, probably as tipsy as you are. It's a scene you glance over at occasioanlly in amusement while you nurse your own drink. The robot doesn't seem bothered, but then again, you can't tell if it's able to even display emotion like that.

Though, you did notice it never shooed her away, never charged for her second drink and was currently pouring flavored water into her shot glass while she laughs at some sort of joke it makes that you don't hear.

Kinda funny how far along human and robot relations have come, hasn't it?

You sip at your own drink again, finishing it off, and stand up from your chair-

-and that's a bad idea. The world spins, tilts far left to the side until you grip the side of the counter to pull yourself back down to the chair and wait for the disortion to subside.

Out of the corner of your eye, the bartender's mechanical eyes flit to you for a split second, then return back to Brenda. (Or Bethany. Who knows.)

How embarressing.

Pulling out your phone, you check the time. It's late at night, almost the early hours of the morning. The bar is open for now, but will close soon enough by the time you wait for the tipsy to pass and sobering to start, and to be fair, it just doesn't dawn on you to ask for water when you're a bit too preoccupied trying to not be dizzy.

Walking home alone like this is...probably not a good idea.

Gramps is in your speedial, along with another number you've put in here fairly recently.

(You did teach them how to use the phone properly, right? Oh, you'll feel so terrible if you have to wake Gramps up at this hour, the poor old guy.)

(You can probably make it home by yourself. It's just a ten minute walk.)

(Maybe you can ask someone here for a ride home. Nevermind. The last remaining of your known classmates are either arguing in the corner, leaving as you watch and Brooklyn's flirts with the robot bartender is becoming more and more riskay by the minute.)

"It's late."

You blink. In your hand, your phone screen says you're in a call. You're finger is still pressing over the spot where you selected the contact. Oops. Did you mean to do that? "Uh.-"

A sound from the speaker thats soft spoken and slow. You press it up against your ear to hear it better amongst the bar's chatter, and a low voice repeats itself. "You should be sleeping."

You can't pick up the meaning in his tone. You're too muffled in your own brain to make out the ends of his sentences that you just rock back in your chair and hum in your throat. "Heya...Hi." You start, voice slurring. "Hi Moon."

There's a pause on the other end of the call. "Where are you?"

"Uh, same place. You know." You wave your hand off and don't feel stupid that he couldn't see your gesture. "The uh, bar down the road. The one with the big neon sign in the front. Looks like kinda like ah, a...banana. The thing, curved thing on the front."

"Okay." Moon sounds tired, except robots don't get tired, and that's just what he usually sounds like whenever he's dealing with your shenanigans, or something particularly difficult. Sometimes he says you're difficult, but not in the way that feels mean. "Stay there."

"Well, I can't, dumbass I gotta get home at some point. Bar closes soon." You huff into the phone. "Was gonna leave here in a bit, anyways. Just need to sit for a minute."

"A minute." Moon repeats. His voice echoes like he's talking to you from a stairwell.

"Yeah-huh. Like, a minute." You lean back in your chair confidently, then immediatly lean back towards the counter as the legs started to tip the other direction and forgoe any movement to just lean against the bartop. "Didn't mean to call you. My finger slipped."

He hums, and it sounds less than convinced. "Hmm. How much?"

"How much...what?" The end of your question is drawled out with your lack of sobriety.

"Nevermind." Footsteps, air against the phone speaker. Moon speaks plainly. "Did you have fun?"

"Man, whats with you and the questions?" You blow air out of your nose, your free hand thumbing minelessly for your shot glass and looking up from the wooden counterop when you feel something different.

A glass of ice water was set next to you, replacing what little alcohol you had left in your cup. The bartender is on the other side of the room, still talking to your classmate, but you've already seen how it's been replacing her drink with water, and frown at your own. "Aw, damn."

"Language."

"Shut uuuup." You groan into the mic, and your head plops down onto the counter, resting. "I had fun. It was...alright."

Moon makes a noise of aknowledgment, a quiet sound to continue.

"I got the lowest score in the class." You confess, almost mummbling. There's no one paying attention to you, and the bar was sparspy populated so it's not like you had anything to be embarressed over. Still, your breath comes back up to your face as you rest your head and it smells like vodka. "I mean, nothing's wrong with that. Still passed though."

He hmms through the phone. "We know. You told us."

"Got ditched." A slurred sentence, quickly continued after a moment. "Not like, ditched ditched. Like....everyone's gettin' ready to leave soon. They've got their own bubbles, m'not in them." You slow to a stop, looking around the room. There's even less people now, and with the slow music playing on the speakers, it's a nice vibe. Smelled like cigaratte smoke and alchol though.

It's relaxing. You're relaxed. That drink is really settling in, and your legs are feeling like heavy weights and your tongue easy to move when you talk. In fact, you could sit here for a few more hours under the low-lights, listening to soft music, rambling about how college is stupid and how you regret being such a lightweight. Maybe skip out on the drinks, next time. You were starting to feel tired.

"Don't tell me that yet."

You blink, blearily, head shifting to look back down at your phone. "Hmm?"

There's a small pause on the other end, a silence punctuated only by soft background noises that you can't make out through the call. "...You've been talking outloud for the past few minutes."

Minutes? It's been seconds, no way. You squint at the phone screen, ignoring the numbers in the corner for the numbers that state how long you've been on call. It's too bright for you, so you put the phone back to your ear. "S'fine. I mean't to do that."

"Sure." Moon says. "Anything else?"

"...It's uh, dark enough in here for you."

"That's nice."

"Kinda stinks, though."

"We wouldn't be able to tell."

"I think my classmate likes robots." You speak quieter, which only makes half of your sentence coherent but you continue off the drunken assumption that your rambles were making sense anyway, free hand cupped around your mouth and facing away from the flirting scene like a kindergardener giggling at juicy gossip. Luckly, your classmate is too far to hear you, and if the robot did, then it doesn't show it. "Like, likes-likes robots. She totally wants to bang it. Her. I think. I think the robots a girl."

"Uh-huh." Moon speaks dully, but you can hear faint amusement. "Good for her."

"Can robots do that? Wait, don't answer that." You bring down your phone away from your ear to glance back up towards said classmate like you were scared of getting caught gossipping. You were, in a sense, not the best at being subtle, but both the bartender robot and your classmate are now seated at a booth away from the counter, holding their own conversation.

You stiffle a small gasp. "Holy shit, I think they're hitting it off."

Moon does the robot equivlanet of a sigh. "Don't stare."

"Right. Rightrightrightright-" You turn away quickly, curling back into yourself like some child caught in the act. "I'm not-I'm not staring-Wait, how didja even know I was looking?"

The sound of a car driving past, a door softly opening. "We know you. You're nosy."

"You're mean." You huff, phone pushed into the space between your ear and neck, using the countertop to rest your head. "I want to go home."

"Mmhm."

"Can robots make out?" The question is so out-of-the-blue you can almost feel the whiplash you send through the phone. "Because I think they're about to. Becky, uh. Brianna. I don't know her name. They're like, really getting along. M'not staring by the way. I'm glancing."

"Okay."

"Is it like, all robots can do it or just some of them? I don't know if, it's like-uh, like..is that insensitive? Am I offensive?"

"No."

"If I google it do I get weird pictures or do I get an answer?"

"Both."

"Can I ask you a question?" You continue. "A totally...not weird question. Maybe kinda weird. Not the weirdest thing I've asked you. Anyway, can you-?"

Click.

You raise your head, looking down at the phone as it flashes the 'call ended' words before going back to your home screen. In a tipsy gasp, your mouth drops open. He hung up on you! Why that little-

"Ask again when you're sober."

A low voice startles you, and you spin around and almost falll off your chair in the motion.

Moon stands behind you, phone still in hand but lowering to pocket it in his hoodie. (Plain, simple, the biggest one you could find to fit them. He still wears his star pants and ribbons but at least he took the bells off his slippers.) and glowers down at you with a quiet look. He has the hood pulled up, even with the hat on, and it just makes his eyes glow a little more in the low-lights.

His hand raises to the glass of water, now with most of it's ice melted, and slides it across the counter towards you. "Drink."

You blink blearily at him, and it's out of synch. "When did you get here-"

"Drink." He repeats, hoisting the glass up to your face until you grumble something innapropriate and snag it from him. You chug it down rather quickly while he waits, and the room never quietens in the few seconds that it takes, but you listen to the conversations out of habit.

Bailey and the bartender robot were definatley gonna start dating or something, and your classmate didn't even look drunk anymore, just a bad flirter. Most of the people in the bar were humans (why would robots come here? They can't drink, and they'd be outnumbered 10 to 1 anyways) save for the other two automations you think are quietly hanging out outside, but it's mostly flesh and blood.

A quiet 'where did that one come from? the circus?' reaches your ears as soon as you finish the water, dropping the glass down on the table and turning your head to whatever human spoke but Moon inturrupts you. A sleeved arm holds out in front of you. "Stand up. Here."

"Don't tell me what to do." Comes out slurred and stuffed up, but the world tilts when you lift yourself off the chair, so your hands find his arm and your balance steadies. "I want to go home."

"Mmm." Moon turns, slowly so you don't get stick, and leads you to the door. "It's past your bedtime."

"Dun't have a bedtime."

"You will tonight." You are lead past the remaining patrons, who don't really care about your departure save for the one or two off-hand glances. Moon opens the door with one hand, holding it open, and guides you through. "Come on."

Your classmate turns your way, and you register her throwing up two thumbs up in your direction with a wide, encouraging smile just as the door shuts behind you. Whoops.

The bar's neon light is bannaa shaped because of some island-theme they had back before redesign that never got taken down, but in your shifting vision and the night's dim lights, it kinda looks like a cresent moon. This is something you voice outloud without meaning to, and Moon spares your thoughts with a glance to the sign, and a chuckle before he leads you down the sidewalk.

Walking is...well, it's taking some bit of effort. Everything felt kinda heavy, your stomach was starting to churn and you needed to use the restroom soon. Maybe you could get home faster if you speed-walked or something, or took a shortcut. You pull away from the guiding arm out for you. "I can walk."

"Okay." And so Moon lets you pull away, standing straight and watching as you take a few tentive steps. You fumble on your fifth step, but the ground never has a chace to rush towards you. A hand around your shoulders, tight but never lower, presses you back towards the Attendant until your own grip finds his upper arm and dig your fingernails into the sleeve.

He's walking before he even asks again. "Want to try again."

Your nose wrinkles up, and whatever word you had formlated in your mind comes out garbled and incoherent. "Heuh."

"....Guess not."

It's peaceful walking at night. Sometimes cars would pass by on this road, and the bright headlights would make your eyes sting but you never ran into anything. Fireflies start to appear in scarcity as you approuch your apartment, rambling about your classmates and the exam and how the vodka didn't taste at all how the bar marketed to be while your animatronic guide is quiet with the occasional noise of aknowledgement, and very focused on making sure you don't trip on every pebble you see.

"This is kinda like...when you escorted me to the doors, back at the pizzaplex." You talk outloud again, and there's no sting in your voice when you're drunk. "You know, ya escorting me."

Moon doesn't look up from the keypad to your apartments, jotting in the number (because just hacking it served you a few complaints from maintenence) and hums. "It is."

You are lead through the opened door, and into the stairwell. "But like, this time you get to come home with me."

"Every night." Moon adds, and finds the door to your apartment without so much as turning on the light in the hallway. It's nearly pitchblack, but you're not scared or bothered by the lack of sight in the slightest. The perks of having a robot friend with night vision means free avoidance of bumping into walls. You hear the clacking of keys, and the door opens. "Inside-"

You go in before he can finish, using the wall and the kitchen counter to steady you until you make it to the living room and the adjacent hallway. The lights are off for obvious reasons, but the living room lamp is on, so it's just enough light for you to make out your path. The world still tilts, although it's weakening, you barely manage to make it to the bathroom door, yelling out some incoherent 'illbeouutinasecond' before you swing the door shut.

When you come back out, Moon is in the kitchen, and he turns to see you almost plank on the sofa cushions for a rest. You miss, bounce off the edge of the seats and faceplant on the floor instead. "...oww."

Soft padded footsteps approuch you, and you are unceramounsly yanked up by the back of your shirt until you're placed on the cushions (he lifted you effortlessly and carefully, but you still groan like an elephant at the movement) and turned over until you're facing upwards, sitting back against the cushion on the back arm rest.

Something wrapped in a napkin is shoved in front of your face. "Eat."

You smell it before you can process seeing it. A plain, peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which you take into your hands, pull away the napkin and take a huge bite before you can say your appreciation properly without a mouthful "Thhansk."

There's no response, but a hand comes up to your forehead, brushing back against your scalp and gentle running through your hair. His hand lingers there as Moon crouches besides the couch. The hoodie is gone now, so it's just his hat and t-shirt. You can see his soft smile more clearly. "You need to go to bed when you're done."

You talk inbetween bites. "M'not moving."

"Then stay here." He rises, knuckles brushing across your ear as his hand moves and disappears down the hallway. You're on the last bites of your sandwhich when he reappears with a blanket and pillow in hand, along with a folder you recognize with stars and moons in it's printed pattern.

The blanket is tossed over your legs and feet, and the folder is set to the coffee table besides you along with a pen. In your approuching bare-sobreity, you recognize the papers peeking out from the edge. Moon sits down besides the couch, back facing you, and opens up to where he left off presummably before he came and retrieved you.

He grades papers while you finish your sandwich and peek nosely over his shoulder. "You never answered my question."

Moon does not look up from grading his student's papers. "I haven't."

"Gimmie answer."

"Silly." He starts, marking an answer wrong and setting that finished paper to the side. His voice never breaks from the calm tone. "Asking personal questions, gossiping in public like that. Intoxicated."

"I wasn't the only one." You defend, and realize that's not exactly a factor that can play in your favor, so you search your clouded tipsy brain for another answer. "Look, listen. I was dared to do shots. I don't..., uh, drink. Like ever. M'lightweight. But I'm not a coward."

The animatronic's head turns towards you on his swivel. "Bad decision. Probably already tipsy."

"Hey-" You warn, pointing a finger in his face. "The amuont of drunk I was has no corrolations-" That last word comes out fumbled. You ignore how Moon's smile twitches upwards. "-no corrolations to the bad decisions I've made."

"Sure." Moon chuckles, onto the next batch of ungraded papers in his folder. "You make plenty of those."

You make a notable effort to brush off any of the crumbs on your shirt in his direction. "You weren't a bad decision."

The monotonous sound of pen scratching pauses for a moment. Then continues. "Debatable."

"Booo." You groan, your disagreement echoing in the living room and silence settling between you two only broken by pages turning and pen scratching.

Sinking into the sofa and watching him work becomes a lullaby, and you feel sleep teter at the edge of your mind as the animatronic finishes up the current page, closing the folder and setting it to the side. Moon pushes the folder to the center of the coffee table, left out to finish the rest later, and you puff up your cheeks to blow air at his face when he turns back to you.

He doesn't even squint, just stares dully at you until you've finish. "Thanks for getting me."

His head tilts. "Mhmm."

Your cheek presses further into the pillow. Nausea is there, something in the pit of your stomach, but it is long buried by the promise of sleep. "But for the record, I didn't ask for you to take care of me."

A blurred movement in the corner of your eye. His hand has returned, settled against your head with his thumb gently running over your skin. "We didn't ask for your permission."

"....M'gonna be hungover in the morning."

"Yes." Moon grin in a way that's both soft and amused. You wonder if his sunny counterpart would be this teasing too, considering that's who's most likely going to be rubbing your back when you're kneeled over the toilet in the morning. "You will be very hungover. Go to sleep."

You mummble something in protest, but your eyes close nonetheless. "M'sleeping already. Geeze."

Your response is a quiet hum, and the hand brushing against your forehead in slow motions until you start to drift away. That hand lingers, softley, and doesn't return to the pen until the world fades and you are well into slumber.

#fnaf sb #fnaf #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #fnaf the daycare attendant #writings #moon x reader #sun x reader #Solar Lunacy #Solar Lunacy Arc 3 #drabbles #x reader #cw alcohol #cw drunk

2K notes · View notes

astro-pioneer · 1 year

Text

crossfire!

the virus was meant for the leader. why do you have it? 『dazai, kunikida, chuuya, fyodor』 season 3 spoilers!

dazai!

came as a surprise to everyone in the ada

it wasn't unusual for members to be in the face of danger

but for something as specific as this to harm you of all members? strange

it was obviously planned for someone else and yet you were attacked

dazai was not having a good time

it got even worse when he was also hospitalized

Nervousness wasn't a friend of Dazai's; it could be better categorized as a stranger. He never had a reason to be nervous before. You never made him nervous before. But now, not able to protect you in your moment of vulnerability, the horrendous emotion creeped into his mind without warning.

"Man, this sucks," he groaned, head thrown back. He was waiting for his phone to ring with a call from Atsushi. Oh, how he missed getting calls from you after you finished a task outside the office. For now until they take down the virus ability user, he'll have to deal with staring at the candid picture that he set his background.

kunikida!

you knew blood in alleyways was a common occurrence

you also knew to not get involved

but when it's bordering the sidewalk? crazy

he got the call from the hospital in the middle of the day and was like O:

the mafia doesn't know who you are but their connections run deep

he's just hoping everything will be solved before you're in danger

His schedule did not have a 'call from the hospital regarding s/o' event jotted down. It was stressful as he knew that not seeing you would keep you safe, especially when news of Mori also getting the virus reached the detective agency. Him suddenly going to the hospital would immediately put the mafia's sights on every patient there.

For now, he'd need to distract himself with planning on how to get rid of the virus. Both for the safety of Yokohama and the survival of you. All the news he has related to you comes from Haruno; he hopes they'll fix everything before the timer on his watch goes off.

chuuya!

man is willing to protect your unconscious body with his LIFE

anyone who'd willingly think he'd allow his enemy to take the only person he actually likes in the mafia is dumb

he was so paranoid an ada member would come after you that he skipped on going to the hospital

refused to leave your side even when he's needed

not even dazai would risk getting into a fight with him during this time

he promised to help in times of need, anyway

Chuuya kept on ignoring his ringing phone, sharp eyes watching the entire room from your bedside. He already informed Mori that he refused to leave your side. Hell will appear on earth if anything happens to you while he has the power to prevent that. The ringtone was different than the other contacts he had, but not yours.

The caller was persistent. "What?" Chuuya didn't want to be professional or polite with whoever was calling, since it definitely wasn't any of the mafia members. His hand tightened around the body of his phone, the words the person on the other side of the phone was speaking pissing him off. "Ridiculous," he muttered, but loosened his stance. You'll be better soon, guaranteed.

fyodor!

would kill the virus ability user immediately

you and your ability were far more important than this unneeded piece in his plan

sure, the virus ability was also good, but yours was amazing

if it took a while for his subordinates to end him, he'd pretend as if nothing was wrong

there's also the ada and mafia going after the guy as well, and he knows they would not allow their leaders to die

you'll be in tip-top shape to continue in assisting him in his plans in no time

The Russian calmly hummed, the tea he was served brewed just perfectly. His phone was in front of him, three digital monitors playing. The top one showed your vitals, the pulse lowered than before his plan took action. The middle one was his subordinate. His heartbeat was normal and he was seemingly confident. Strange.

Ivan's was at the bottom, erratic. He was panicking, obviously losing. It was a shame the virus ability user wouldn't die at the hands of one of his minions. His interest grew when the middle one changed to anxious. He'll be able to move onto the next step in his plan. Simply perfect.

#✎ expedition #∅*｡ saturn #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #kunikida x reader #chuuya x reader #fyodor x reader

438 notes · View notes

absurdthirst · 9 months

Text

Finding the Right Note {Country Star!Jack Daniels x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.2k

Warnings: Jack Daniel is a flirt, vaginal sex, angst, derogatory name calling, misplaced anger, mentions of alcoholism, groveling, face slapping, mentions of pregnancy

Comments: Country music star Jack Daniels strides into the bar you are performing in. Looking for an opening act for his upcoming tour, he decides you are just what he wants. Until your star might outshine his.

Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Agent Whiskey MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Jack walks into the bar, it’s bustling for a Wednesday night and he’s desperate for a drink after such a long day. His record label is giving him shit for not booking an opening act just yet. He hasn’t found the right one and he’s pushing them by delaying but damn, he’s been in the industry long enough to get the final say on who opens for him. He saddles up to the bar and orders a whiskey, thanking the bartender and once he’s got his drink, the crowd starts to cheer as the stage lights go off. It’s loud for a few moments until you walk out on stage.

You exhale shakily, always nervous before you take the stage, but once you start to sing, the nerves fade away. You smile at the crowd as the music starts and you begin your set.

She’s a fucking angel. Glass halfway to his lips, Jack stops, turning from the bar to stare at the stage behind him. It’s soulful and passionate. Fun and flirty once the hook drops and the beat turns up. Jack’s eyes flutter around the crowd and he nods, watching them get into the act. She’s perfect. Turning back to the bartender. “Who’s up on stage?” He asks. “What’s her name?”

The bartender gives your name and Jack turns his attention back to you. You sway your hips as you sing, putting your all into the music. Your passion is clear and you love this gig. The owner had heard you busking on the street and offered you the job as the singer for his bar. It’s a great gig, good pay, but it’s not what you want. You want to make music, tour the world, and let people hear your songs. It hasn’t happened yet, even after sending your demos in to every record company but no luck yet. You don’t notice the famous country singer sitting at the bar watching you with rapture as you continue singing.

Jack watches your performance with an excitement that he’s not felt in years. His whiskey all but forgotten as he starts to sing along to the chorus the second time around. Your energy is unmatched and he can tell you want to glide around the small stage if you had enough room. You’d be magnificent on a big stage. Your last line is belted out, giving it everything you have and it’s perfect, making you grin when the last note of the song hits and you wave your hand holding the pick up. “Give it up for the band!”

Your set seems to fly by as you sing your heart out and you saddle up to the bar once you’ve finished, gesturing for the bartender to get you your usual. “It’s on my tab.” Jack says as he sits beside you and you turn to face him.

“Thank you. Wait…aren’t you- what are you doing in a place like this?” You ask him with a chuckle.

Jack shrugs slightly and his fingers slide around his own glass. “Was plannin’ on getting drunk, but now I’m thinkin’ about business.” He admits. “How long you been tryin’ to break out?” He asks as the bartender comes over and slides your drink in front of you.

You blow out a breath, shaking your head, “way too long. Could’ve recorded enough material for three or four albums by now but it’s hard to get big in a town full of singers.” You chuckle and pick up your drink, lifting it towards Jack. “To music.” You toast and Jack clinks his glass against yours.

“To music.” Jack takes a sip of his whiskey and takes a hard look at you. You don’t look like the typical worn out ‘trying to make it big’ country singer. Where up close the evidence of hard partying and too much alcohol is evident. “Got something I can listen to?” He asks, wanting to hear the quality of your studio session in addition to the live performance he just witnessed.

You nod, taking your phone out, and you know it’s something else for you to be asking him to listen to your music but when he’s asking you, you’re not gonna turn him down. You select what you think is your best song and hand him the phone to listen to it.

The noise in the bar is loud, but not loud enough that he can’t hear the pure potential in the music. The notes shine through clearly and he can hear the enthusiasm in your voice.

The noise in the bar is loud, but not enough that he can’t hear the pure potential in the music. The notes shine through clearly and he can hear the enthusiasm in your voice.

“Can you send me that?” He asks as he hands you back the phone. “I want to send that to my manager.”

Your mouth falls open but you won’t turn him down. You hand the phone to him to put his number in, shocked that Jack Daniels wants your demo. You hit send and you shake your head, a chuckle escaping your lips. “I- I can’t believe you’re here and you want my music.”

“Lookin’ for an opening act for my upcoming tour.” Jack tells you, smirking at the way your mouth drops open in shock. “Haven’t found anyone I liked until now.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “you’re shittin’ me.” You ask and his chuckle warms you, “I ain’t shittin’ you baby. I wanna have you open my show.” He tells you and you shake your head, “if you want me, I’m yours.”

“You’re gonna have to play for my people.” Jack tosses back the rest of his drink and grins at you. “You ready for that?”

You nod, “I’ll do it. You tell me the time and place.” You tell him and he throws some cash down to pay for his drink. “I’ll wait for the call.” You wink and sip your drink, heart pounding as you think of what this could lead to.

For the first time in a long time, Jack doesn’t have a second drink. Instead he’s sending the song to his manager and typing out a text telling him that he’s found his opening act. When he sends it off he smirks at you. “Your entire world’s about to change, sugar.”

****

True to his word, you got a call the next day about opening for Jack Daniels and a few weeks later, you sublet your apartment and put your things in storage. Packing your clothes for the tour and your guitar, you are excited, practically buzzing and the first stop is Atlanta. A big city and a big arena for the biggest star in country right now. You’re checked into your hotel and whisked over to the venue for the sound check before Jack arrivals. Little do you know he’s already arrived when you’re finishing your sound check until you hear his applause. “Damn good song, little lady.” He praises and you fluster, glancing around at the crew. “Thank you. I- I wrote that one when I was eighteen and thinking the world would treat me right.”

Jack grins, propping his hands on his hips. “It’s funny how that happens, ain’t it?” He’s got his own share of problems, that is well documented in all the articles written about him. “I think that song might be the best damn thing I’ve heard for a long time.”

You fluster and duck your head, “you flatter me, Daniels. Says the five time Grammy award winner.” You scoff softly and shake your head as you fiddle with the strings of your guitar. “First big show of the tour. You ready?” You ask him as you hand the guitar off to the stage hand.

“I am.” Jack nods, smirking slightly. “Nothing like bein’ on the road. The crowds, the tour buses, the after parties.” He chuckles and waggles his brows.

You have heard rumors about his after parties. They go hard and you’re not sure you want to get involved in them every night. You’re here to get your career started and he’s one of the biggest stars in the world. You need to focus…especially when he turns those gorgeous brown eyes on you. You make your way off of the stage to give him the time to sound check and you come face to face with him when he meets you halfway.

“You ready?” He turns the question on you and you nod, “fucking nervous but I’m ready.” His chuckle warms you and you know that’s dangerous, especially when he leans in closer to whisper in your ear.

“You’re gonna be a fucking star, baby.” He promises and leans back.

Your heart pounds as you stare at him and the stage manager calls out, “Jack, time to check your mics.”

Jack winks at you, “see you later, sugar,” and he walks past you to make his way out onto the stage.

Jack’s sound check is more of a formality than anything else but he does run through one of the newer songs on his recently released album. Just to make sure that it sounds okay since it’s the first time being played in a stadium. He sees you watching him and shows off for good measure, just to let you know that he’s still got it in him. When he’s done, he walks over to you and the roadie hands him his standard whiskey over ice. “Whatcha think? Sound okay?”

You nod, eying the drink in his hand but who are you to judge? Everyone has their pre-show routines. “Your fans are gonna love it. Your new album…it’s fantastic. I’m excited to see the great Jack Daniels perform.” You smirk and cross your arms, “you got any tips?”

“Don’t show your underwear, and never let a fan come up on stage without you inviting them.” He tells you seriously before taking a sip. “Had one fan grope me and then turn around and sue me for “emotional manipulation”. Said I led her on because I was obviously singing to her in my songs and then publicly spurned her.”

You wince, “your fans are crazy.” You shake your head, having heard about his “Jack Pack” fan club. You sigh, “I doubt my popularity will lead to fans that crazy. It just shows how damn famous you are.” You tease him softly and he snorts, looking down at his drink. “It’s a blessin’ and a curse.” You can understand that. “Well, good luck. I’ll see you before the show. I better go get something to eat and glam myself up.”

“Don’t do too much more than you are now.” Jack tells you with a wink. “Otherwise you’re libel to upstage the main headliner.” You’re gorgeous and with your upbeat smile and excitement, the crowd is going to eat you up. Jack Daniels has done found himself the next country music star.

****

Your adrenaline is high once you come off of stage, your body buzzing as you grab the water you have waiting for you and Jack is standing there, his hands still clapping your performance. “Oh my God.” You gasp after downing the bottle. “That was - wow.”

“How’s it feel knowing you just played your first of many shows?” Jack demands, beaming at your breathless laughter and joy. He remembers that exhilaration, even though it had long since faded into the worry that he was washed up. Past his prime, despite his people saying that wasn’t the case. They were going to milk him until his teat was dry and move on to someone else.

You shake your head in amazement, “incredible. I- I never imagined - thank you.” You surge forward to wrap your arms around him, hugging him close. “I owe you everything.” You tell him and he chuckles, rubbing your back, “just make me proud.” He says and you nod, stepping back. Soon enough, he’s making his way onto stage, the crowd roaring and you watch him from the side of the sound desk, in awe of his talent.

Jack might have a little more oomph in his performance. He tells himself it’s because it’s the kickoff of another tour, that he’s energetic because of that and not because he’s sure you are watching his performance. Showing off for you for over two hours, the crowd roars as the lights dim and he walks off stage to cheers of demands for him to do an encore. He’s sweaty and red faced as he strides up to you and takes your water to drink, sending you a wink before he downs it.

Your mouth goes dry, wishing you had the water he just finished, and your stomach twists with attraction to him. His wink and the sweat coating him has you aching for him but you know you can’t fuck this opportunity up. It’s important and can make your career. Fucking Jack Daniels will be short lived. A career in music could be the rest of your life. The roar of the crowd is deafening as he finishes his encore and you watch him come off of the stage, taking the towel from the stage hand.

After the concert, Jack has his meet and greets. VIP guests who have paid a lot of money to see him, but he also goes out to sign autographs for those that waited for him. Taking time to appreciate his fans and when he spots you, he motions you over. “Ya’ll want her signature too.” He tells them with a grin. “She’s gonna blow up and you can say you met her first!”

You fluster and some fans take his word and you sign their papers. You are soon escorted by Jack’s security to the bus and you are shuffled onto the bus with a sweaty Jack. His band applauds and you follow suit, exhausted but on top of the world as the bus starts to move to the next city.

“So, how was the first show?” Jack demands, pouring both of you a drink rather than jumping in the shower like he knows he should. You have a bus, but he had them put you on his for tonight so you could get to know one another better. If you say no, there’s another bed to sleep on. He hands you the glass and clinks his against it. “To fame and fortune.”

You take a sip of the whiskey, leaning back to look at Jack as he throws his arm over the back of the sofa he’s sitting on as the bus starts to move. “To your fame and fortune.” You counter and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yours too, sugar. Tonight was the first night of the rest of your career.”

You smile softly, setting your drink down. “I hope so. Tonight was…it was exhilarating. The high you get off of it - I can’t wait to do it again tomorrow.”

“Nothing like it, is there?” He chuckles and sets his drink down. Leaning in and watching your eyes widen slightly. “I’ve only found one way to really burn off this energy.”

You swallow harshly as he leans a little closer, your eyes dropping down to his lips as he licks them clean of the remnants of whiskey. You bite your lip, leaning back a little to catch your breath. “What’s that?” You ask, hating how breathy you sound as your heart thumps. Your attraction to him rearing its head again.

“Find the prettiest girl I can, take her to bed and make her forget everything but screamin’ my name.” It’s not every night but often enough that he didn’t want to count bodies. But right now, his eyes are on you.

His words and his dark gaze makes you shiver and your eyes flit over to the kitchenette before you glance back at him. “You didn’t find the prettiest girl tonight to take to bed…you’re here with me?” You question, hoping you are predicting his answer correctly but this allows you an exit strategy if you’re wrong about the lust in his eyes.

“Oh but I did find the prettiest girl.” He argues, stepping closer. “Now I know that I’m sweaty, sugar, but I can shower before I get sweaty again.” He offers. Knowing that some wouldn’t like it but he feels like he is going to be taken like he is with you. Especially since you are musky from your own set.

You bite your lip, reminding yourself again of your promise to not fuck this opportunity up, especially with sex, but he’s standing there with that ridiculously sexy smirk and your resolve crumbles. You step towards him, your fingers playing with the buttons of this shirt. “Seeing as we are sharing this bus, I think the best thing to do is to shower together. However, it’s very small in the shower so you’d have to press up against me…is that something you’d be okay with?”

“Baby, I’d love nothing more than to press against you and keep pressing against you until I hear how my name sounds coming from your pretty lips.” He wraps his hand around your neck and drags you close to kiss you.

You let him drag you against him, your lips pressing against his and your hands slide up to grip the collar of his shirt. His tongue quickly slides along your lower lip and you grant him the access he seeks. Jack’s free hand caresses your waist and slides down to squeeze your ass, making you moan. Your back is soon pressed against the counter of the kitchenette and you know it’s worth the risk. Just this kiss is worth risking it all.

Jack groans into your mouth, finding it even sexier that you are matching him for passion. It’s not one sided where Jack is once again putting on a performance for someone while they melt in surprise. Your own fingers roam over his body until you are starting to unbutton his shirt and slide it off of him.

You caress his chest, sticky with dried sweat but you love it. You slide your tongue against his and his hands reach for the hem of your dress, helping you shift to pull it off of you, exposing your tits and lace underwear to his dark gaze. “Jack.” You whimper when he kisses along your throat.

“You wanna shower, sugar?” Jack asks, knowing the driver won’t be coming back to where you are and you’re the only two on the bus. Jack has a rule about not bothering him unless he invites someone on. Needing the time to unwind. His hands dip under your panties to pull them the down around your thighs.

His hands caress your thighs and you’re not sure you can wait to shower and clean off. He’s too intoxicating and you whimper when his fingers slide between your folds. “Shower after.” You decide, reaching down to squeeze him through his jeans, the obnoxiously large belt buckle hindering your touch.

Jack groans, smirking when he does. “I like the way you think. I want to see if you are as tight as I imagined you would be.” He groans again when you manage to get his buckle undone. “We’ll have our own private show.”

You reach in to pull his cock out of his tight jeans and you groan at the thickness of him. “Shit, Jack. You - that’s gonna be a stretch. It’s - it’s been a while.” You admit and let go of him so you can spit in your palm, gripping him again and starting to pump his length.

“That’s a good thing, ain’t it?” He groans, cock twitching in your hand and he doesn’t want to admit how long it’s been for him. He’s fucked plenty, but when he’s not on tour or in the studio, it’s a different story. “You want to see my bus bedroom?” He asks, unclipping your bra and pulling it off your tits so he can palm them.

You arch into his touch, your fingers squeezing his cock, and you moan when he pinches your nipples. “Yes. Show me.” You plead, letting go of him so he can escort you to the bedroom.

You run into several things, a counter, a door frame. Jack guiding you back while trying to kiss you. Eager to see you spread out on his bed. Your own fingers working on his shirt and dragging it over his shoulders.

You manage to get his shirt off just as you are laying down on his bed and you drag him down on top of you. “Come on baby. Fuck me.” You beg, the adrenaline still pulsing inside of you. “You have a condom?” You ask breathlessly.

“I do.” Jack reaches for the small built in shelf and pops the door open. Fumbling around inside for one of the many foil packets stashed there. “No warm up? Just straight to riding?”

You whimper when his fingers find your clit, “yes. Let me - I want to ride you.” You push on his chest, wanting to feel him inside of you. You don’t care about foreplay, you want the stretch. You want to feel something, you want to feel all of him. “Baby, let me ride you. Come on cowboy.”

Shucking his boots and jeans comes with a few curses and giggles but he is finally flat on his back with his cock curled up against his stomach, “come on, sugar.” He growls, reaching for your hip. “Put the condom on me and take me for a ride.”

You nod, slithering up his body to straddle his thighs and you rip open the condom. You roll it down his length and squeeze his cock. Shifting closer to line yourself up with his length, biting your lip as you start to sink down onto him.

“That’s it sugar, that’s it.” Jack pants. “Holy fuck you are as tight as a small glove on a giants hand.” His toes curl and his back arches slightly when you squeeze him inside the warmth of your velvet walls. “Holy fuck, holy shit girl.”

His words take your breath away and you gasp as you slowly sink down on him. A few moments later, you have his cock fully inside of you and you don’t move, closing your eyes for a few moments to collect yourself. “Shit. You are stretching me out, Daniels.” You declare as you caress his chest, giving you another moment until you lift your hips, starting to move on top of him.

He loves that you get right to it. Soon your hips are rolling and his own are struggling to stay put on the bed. The squeaks are covered by the sounds of the bus rolling down the road and he groans your name.

Hearing him moan your name has your body shaking. Your nails scratch his chest as you ride his cock, rolling your hips and grinding down onto him. “Fuck, Jack. You feel so good. So damn good.” You pant.

“You gonna cum?” Jack slides his hand down to cover your stomach and his thumb finds your clit. Rubbing harshly in a tight pattern to match the roll of your hips. “Gonna soak ‘ol Jack?”

You nod, shifting to lean back, your hands on his knees as you find the angle that has you tossing your head back. His thumb rubbing your clit as you grind down onto him. “Gonna cum. Gonna - fuck.” You cry out, clamping down on him and you squeeze your eyes shut as your mouth falls open.

Jack hisses, his eyes nearly rolling back at how good you feel around his cock. His thumb keeps pressing, keeps rolling and he makes sure that he bucks his hips up harshly enough to move you as you cum.

His thumb becomes too much and you reach down to grab his hand, bringing it to your chest so he can feel your thumping heart. You still for a moment, just relishing the moment and the haze of your orgasm. “Fuck, I want more.” You tell him, reaching for his hand to balance yourself so you can start to ride him again.

Jack chuckles. “Like a girl who knows what she needs.” He moans when your hand squeezes his and he watches your tits bounce. “Fuck, look at you, thought about this the entire time you were up on stage.”

To hear him say that has your pussy clenching around him, and you bend down to press your lips against his, changing the angle. “Thought about this while you were on stage. So fucking sexy. Strutting around like you owned the fucking arena. Those women screaming your name but it’s me who you wanted to ride you.” You murmur against his jaw.

“Fuck yes, I wanted you to ride me.” He groans against and slaps your ass, turning his head to capture your lips with his own again. Needing to kiss you, to slide his tongue against yours. Hoping that he can last long enough for you to cum again.

The angle you are rocking back onto his cock in has his coarse hair rubbing against your clit and it’s enough to have you panting into his mouth. “Fuck baby. So good. Feel so good.” You whine against his jaw before you kiss him again, so close to another orgasm. When he shifts to brace his feet on the bed, his cock pushing deeper inside of you as he rocks his hips up, you fall apart again. Clamping down on his cock and soaking his length as you squeal into his mouth.

Jack groans, holding your hips tight as he rocks up into you. “Fuck baby, that’s it, cream all over Jack’s cock.” He pants. “Knew you’d do so good for me. Every man there wanted to fuck you but I’m the one buried balls deep, about to explode.” He chokes out a cry a few sharp thrusts later and grinds as deep as he can. Holding still and grunting as ropes of cum spill into the condom.

You slump against him, enjoying the way he groans your name, his cock twitching inside of you. “Fuck, that’s good. So good.” You murmur, kissing along his neck, and you reach up to brush his damp hair out of his face. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.” You tease breathlessly.

You slump against him, enjoying the way he groans your name, his cock twitching inside of you. “I don’t mind showering together. We have seen each other naked. Washing isn’t much to worry about now.” You chuckle softly and enjoy the way he caresses your back. “Plus I can’t get on the other bus.” You smirk and you caress him one last time before you shift off of him, gripping the base of his cock to make sure the condom doesn’t come off.

“Nope.” He chuckles quietly and sits up. “Although if you don’t like the idea of sharin’ a bed, there’s another you can sleep in.” He won’t make you share a bed with him if you don’t want. You might want to decompress.

You nod, “I get the feeling you aren’t one for sleeping all night and I need to be on top of my game if I am to make the most of the opportunity you’ve given me. I’ll sleep in the other bed but come on, let’s shower.” You shift off of the bed and make your way to the tiny bathroom, turning on the water and stepping into the cubicle while Jack deals with the condom.

Jack ties the condom and tosses it in the wastebasket, deciding not to do his normal routine in dealing with it. He joins you and grins as he steps into the spray with you. “Best thing after a concert is a hot shower.”

You tilt your head back under the hot water, closing your eyes as you let the water flow over you, reaching for the body wash but Jack soon snatches it out of your hand so he can begin to wash you. “What a gentleman.” You coo, liking the feel of his hands on your body.

“Easiest way to learn a woman.” Jack hums against your neck, sliding his soapy hands down your stomach and back up over your breasts. He squeezes your tits playfully. “What do you think?”

You let him clean you up, his touch playful and you realize that this is going to be a regular occurrence. You won’t be able to forget this so you’ve already accepted that you’ll be back in his bed tomorrow or the night after. “It’s fucking perfect.” You grin, leaning against him. From singing in a bar to opening for Jack Daniels…you know your life is just starting.

****

“Are you serious?” You gasp, unable to play it cool as you listen to your new manager. “Yes. Tell them yes.” You squeal and your manager chuckles, promising he will deliver the message. You hang up just as Jack rounds the corner of the diner you’ve stopped off in on your way to Houston. His hands immediately find your waist now that no one is looking and you are alone. You shove your phone into your jeans and reach up to cup his cheeks. “Guess what I just had a call about?” You ask him and he chuckles, “good news I take it?” You nod, “the best news. The label wants an album. My EP did really freaking well and they want an entire album.” You squeal and lean in to press your lips against Jack’s.

You’re not sure what you are right now, friends that sleep together? You’ve been on tour for three months now and you’ve spent nearly every night on Jack’s bus, having sex and talking and playing music. You’ve never slept in the same bed together but you’ve grown close.

“That’s fantastic, sugar.” Jack grins and wraps his arms around you to spin you around. Chuckling when you squeal happily and kiss him again. “You’re gonna kill it. Just make sure you don’t let them push you to puttin’ too many love songs on the album. You don’t wanna get pigeonholed.”

You nod, knowing you have enough material for two or three albums so it will be a mixture. “Hard to write love songs when you’ve never been in love.” You reveal and Jack frowns, “you’ve never been in love?” You shake your head, “guess I’ve kept my heart under lock and key.” You murmur, squeezing his hand to step away from him. Jack lets you go, wondering what it would take for you to fall in love. “I gotta go figure out the tracklist and - I - God, there’s so much to do.” You murmur and step away from Jack so you can start to think. His frown deepens when you rush off, making his stomach twist with unknown emotion.

****

The crowd roars as Jack comes off of the stage and he’s immediately taking his whiskey from the stage hand and he strides over to you. His heart pounding and you let him take your hand to drag you towards his dressing room. “Jack? Jack? Everything okay?” You ask but he’s shutting the door behind him, downing the whiskey and then his lips are on yours.

His tongue is insistent, demanding when he kisses you. It’s not playful like before. There’s a roughness behind it that he doesn’t want to analyze too closely. You’ve already signed your autographs and he needs to as well but he’s noticed that a larger portion of the crowd is wearing shirts with your face on it. The same face he is gripping in his hand now while his other hand is starting to rip open his jeans.

You whimper when his hands shove your dress up, his cock hard and throbbing in your palm as you reach down to grip him. “Baby. Oh shit.” You moan when his fingers dig into your ass, pulling you up against him and you let him guide you over to the vanity, lifting you onto it and you eagerly spread your legs for him. “Fuck me.” You plead, needing him as the adrenaline surges through you.

Condoms are a thing of the past. Both of you have been tested and Jack hadn’t taken anyone else to bed since the very first night. Not even when you had been gone to finalize your album for a few shows where his buddy opened for him. Now though, he’s ravenous for you. Quickly pushing your panties to the side, he notches his cock and pushes deep.

You gasp when he pushes into you, making you whine in pleasure and you grip his shoulders, pulling him close so you can press your lips against his. “Fuck. I’ve missed this.” You cry and wrap your legs around his waist when he starts to move inside of you.

“Shit.” Jack groans, pressing his lips to yours just as desperately. His fingers dig into your hips and he doesn’t even hesitate, pulling his hips back to slam back into you harshly. “Missed you, missed this.” He grunts, biting your bottom lip and tugging on it.

You moan into his mouth, your heels digging into his ass as he starts to fuck you hard and fast. “Jack. Missed - oh shit - missed this too.” You whine, loving the harsh pace and desperation. The adrenaline running through both of you.

His hips slap against your thighs and he groans into your mouth. Desperate to claim you, to mark you as his, even though he has no claim on you. “Fuck, fuck, missed this tight little cunt squeezing me tight.” He huffs. “Just what I need.”

His lips kiss along your neck and you’re certain he is going to bite you but you can’t let him do that when you are supposed to have a photographer from Rolling Stone come and meet you tomorrow. You tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him back, “can’t mark me baby.” You tell him and he grunts but concedes, kissing you once more. You’re close, always are when it comes to him, and you swear it’s something in his kiss, in his touch, that makes you feel electric. “Come on baby, I need - need -“ You reach between you to rub your clit, anxious to feel that bliss you’ve been denied with his absence from your life.

Jack groans, looking down to watch you rub your clit. It’s so sexy how you prioritize your pleasure. “You gonna cum for me?” He demands, the slick sounds of his cock moving fills the air between you. “Gonna soak my cock, sugar? You feel so desperate for it.”

Part of you wants to taunt him, tell him you are doing this because he can’t but the other side of you wants to submit to him, to tell him only he can make you feel like this. “Baby, oh fuck. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me - shitttt.” You hiss, clamping down on his cock as you cry out, loving how good he feels pushing deep inside of you.

Hissing at how tight you get, Jacks thrusts get sloppy, determine to fuck you through it but he’s so fucking close to cumming himself. “That’s it baby girl, cum all over me. Fuck I love that.” He groans.

Your head hits the mirror and you watch him through hazy eyes as he starts to cum. You love it, the way his jaw clenches, the muscles in his neck tighten. You caress his neck, watching him as he thrusts a half dozen more times until he’s burying himself inside of you, painting your walls. “Yes, Jack. That’s it baby. God, you always feel so good.”

You kiss him again, dragging him back into you as you savor the feel of him until it’s time to pull back. He has meet and greets and you have to speak to your team. Jack’s tour is coming to an end soon and your label want you to start promoting your album.

Jack nudges his nose against yours and grins. “You gonna stay on my bus tonight?” He asks, even though he knows the answer. You’ve spent every night on his bus. All your lounging clothes are there in a few drawers he had made room for.

“Yeah. Of course.” You murmur, knowing it’s not even a question at this point. You really have missed him during the shows you’ve been gone, and tonight, you want more. “I want…I want to sleep in your bed.” You tell him, hoping he understands the step you are taking.

Jack hums, grinning as he wraps his arms around you. “Sugar, I promise I won’t hog the covers or snore in your ear.”

“You better not, Daniels, otherwise I will go back to my own bed.” You tease, leaning in to kiss his jaw. He hums and you lean back to pat his chest. “You’d better clean up for those meet and greets. See you in a bit, cowboy.” You wink and he groans as he pulls out of you, letting you know how excited he is to meet his fans.

****

Jack tosses back another show of whiskey and slams it down on the counter, his mood sour and he hates that this is the last tour. This will probably be the end of his career. Despite the numbers, the label was deciding they wanted to hold off on making another album. He can see the writing on the wall, he’s old news. Washed up and while his career is ending, it seems like yours is taking off.

You frown when you find Jack sitting at the bar backstage. It’s the last show of the tour and you need to talk to Jack. “Hey baby.” You rub his back, knowing he’s preparing for his time on stage and you sit down beside him. “Are you doing okay?” You ask and he snorts, tapping his fingers on the counter.

“Yeah. Just mourning the last show of my career.” He says and you frown, “last show? Says who?” You ask and he shakes his head, “everyone. They love you. They adore you and I’m-“

You reach for his hand, “loved and adored. By your fans, by the country music community…by me.” You reveal, biting your lip as you stare at him.

Jack mistakes the adoration in your eyes from pity, shaking his head and sighing. “Naw, it ain’t in the cards for me.” He draws and reaches for the bottle of whiskey again, pulling his hand out of yours. “I’m gonna fade into the night and you will be a rising star.”

Your frown deepens at his self pity, his fate seemingly sealed by his own depression. “You are a star, you’ve opened the CMAs more times than I can count. You have won Grammys and shit - you’ve won sexiest man of the year twice. I have an EP and the label…they want me to - to go out on my own. They have lined up a few shows for me to play, get the momentum going. I am barely a mention, you are the star.” You tell him, caressing his arm, “they love you…I love you.”

“Fuck.” Jack knows that you will go on and become a huge star, and he will just be dead weight. Dragging you down and preventing you from reaching your potential. “You did it, congratulations.” He sneers sarcastically. Raising his glass in a mock salute and tossing back another belt of whiskey. “You got what you want.”

His snarky tone is one you’ve never heard before. “Got what I want…Jack. I- I was singing in a bar and you gave me this opportunity. I owe you everything but do not mistake my success for your opportunity. I am a great songwriter, a great singer. I got the contract on my own talent. You gave me a step onto the ladder but I climbed it by myself. You can sit there and wallow, drown yourself in whiskey, and what will that get you? Nothing. Maybe you are washed up but it’s from your own doing.”

“My opportunity?” Jack leaps to his feet, a scowl twisting his features into an ugly set of his normally handsome face. “Sugar, I don’t need anything from a whore who climbed into my bed.” He regrets the words the second they come out of his mouth, but he doesn’t retract them. “Get out of my goddamn dressing room and get off my fuckin’ stage. You might be hotter than shit, but I’m still the star of this show.”

His words break your heart. All those nights on his bus, talking and playing music. Those moments shatter and in their place is nothing. You stare at him and scoff, shaking your head. “You are washed up. A drunk. Good luck out there. You’re gonna need it since most of them came to see me.” You spit spitefully and back away from him, stomping out of the room and pulling your phone out. You are going to call your manager and tell him you are on for the tour. In a few months, you won’t even remember Jack Daniels.

****

“Jack…I don’t understand. You said you didn’t want to record another song.” His manager sounds bewildered and maybe it’s because Jack has been hell bent on self destruction since you left. After the concert he had tried to find you, only to be told you had already packed up and left. His texts wouldn’t go through, you’d blocked him. So a song is the only way he knows how to reach you.

“I don’t give a shit what I said. I want to record a single and have it put out now.” Jack insists, staring at a picture of you that he had taken, missing you more than he could express without a beat behind it.

****

You exhale shakily, nervous to perform an entire concert alone. Opening for Jack was one thing, five songs to sing, but this is an entire show. You have dance moves and new lyrics to remember. A band and back up dancers. The entire production has been a few months in the making and tonight is the first night of your tour. Your album exploded, going to number one pretty quickly and you have been swept up in success since leaving Jack in his dressing room. You stare at yourself in the mirror, remembering how Jack would drink before a show and you know you don’t want to get into that habit.

It was a pain in the ass buying a ticket to your show but he managed it. Pulling strings with the roadies he knew from his own tour, he had managed to get backstage and talk to the director of the show, convincing him that his idea would be a success. It was hard not to rush to you, seeing you all dressed up and ready to go on stage, but he didn’t want to mess up your timing and he knew he would.

You exhale shakily as you finish the song. Your encore is next and you are full of adrenaline and glistening with sweat. You exit off of the stage and grab the water, downing half off of it as you listen to the crowd scream your name. About five minutes later, you head back on stage with the band but they don’t start playing your song. You turn towards them in question when you see him come on stage. The crowd roars as Jack walks towards you and you force yourself to smile and bring the mic to your lips, “Jack Daniels everyone.”

“How’s everybody doin’ tonight?” Jack asks, fully mic-ed up and ready to go. The crowd cheers and he throws his hand up and waves but his eyes are on you. Your smile is painted on but your eyes are shooting deadly lasers at him that would knock him down dead if they could. “I know most ya’ll have heard my new single, but I bet ya’ll didn’t know I wrote it about this pretty lady right here, did ya?” He asks, and the crowd goes crazy again. “And I want to sing it to her tonight.”

You haven’t heard his new single. Having tried to actively avoid anything to do with Jack and you want to ask if he wrote a song about a whore. Your jaw is clenched, teeth gritted in a smile as Jack strums his guitar and he starts to play as the crowd settles down.

Jack pours his heart into the song, singing every note as pure as he can. The song about love and loss, failure and redemption and the everlasting hope that love would come back. He ends on the last note and the entire stadium erupts into applause.

Your blood is boiling but you can’t show that. You have to act like this is perfect and that Jack just won you over. He hasn’t. You smile and clap, deciding to end your concert there as you look at the band and make the symbol that the concert is over. You wave at the crowd and move to stand next to Jack, holding his hand as you both bid the crowd goodnight. He guides you off of the stage, guitar pressing against his back, and you snatch your hand away. “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?” You growl, raising your hand to slap his face.

Jack doesn’t stop you from slapping him, figuring that you deserve it agyer what he said. His eyes widened as his head snaps to the side from the impact and he rubs his cheek. “Sugar, I’m tryin’ to apologize the only way I know how. I’m a fuckin’ fool and I love you. I’m sorry for the hurt I caused you.”

You shake your head, stepping away from him. “You love me? Are you being serious? I- Jack - you called me a whore? Remember? Said I wasn’t good enough. I- you fucking asshole.” You hiss, shaking your head as tears sting in your eyes.

“It’s me that ain’t good enough, sugar.” Jack admits, reaching out for you and then dropping his hand when you flinch back. “I didn’t mean it, I promise. I’ve never thought of you like that. I was angry and scared and I took it out on you. Didn’t you listen to the song?”

You nod, “I- shit. I did and I- you wrote that for me?” You ask and he nods. You shake your head and take another step back. “You don’t want me. That song - it doesn’t mean anything. You don’t love me.”

“Sugar, I love you more than anything.” Jack promises you. “I want you more than I want to be a country music star. I’d give it all up and be your roadie. Or I’d open for you. I don’t care. I just want you.”

His words make your heart twist, wanting to believe him and tell him how much you love him. You still do, even after you walked out of his dressing room that night. You swallow harshly, tears stinging in your eyes. “I can’t - I don’t believe you. You were so cruel to me and you picked me up from nothing and gave me a chance then you ripped it all away. I’m not gonna be a superstar like you. How can you throw it all away?”

“I want you more.” Jack tells you, desperate for you to believe him. “After my wife and son died, I never thought love was in the cards for me again. Never thought anything was more important. And when the label said they didn’t want to make a new album just yet, I thought I was done, that they had moved on and I couldn’t handle it.” He sighs. “I’ve decided I’m gonna retire, or start my own label if needed, but I want to see you become a star. I want to watch you rise up.”

Jack had told you about the death of his childhood sweetheart and his son. A tragedy that made you cry for him and it made you love him more that he’d survived such a loss. Understanding him more than you thought possible but now you aren’t sure if you trust him. “It doesn’t matter anyway. After this tour…I’m taking a break.” You reveal.

Jack frowns, “why? You’re just getting started. You need to take advantage. Record another album. Get back on the road.” He argues.

You shake your head, “I need to go home…to have the baby.” You declare softly, your hand resting on your lower stomach.

Jack’s eyes flutter between your stomach and your face, in disbelief and he knows that the baby has to be his. “C-congratulations.” He chokes out, wanting to reach out for you but he curls his hand into a fist. “I- what can I do? What do you want from me, sugar? You want me to be involved? You want child support? I want to be involved, however you will let me. A baby? Really?”

You bite your lip, imagining him as a father, as your partner, but then you remember his drinking problem. “Jack…I can’t - you’re a drunk. You can’t be around a kid. I wouldn’t trust you.” You hate saying it but your baby has to come first. You’d been torn on having an abortion since your career was taking off and you’d broken up with Jack but the thought of losing the last piece of him was too much as you decided to keep the baby.

“I’ll quit drinkin’.” If that’s what it takes for you to let him in the baby’s life, he would. He would do anything. “I’ll go to rehab and pour every goddamn bottle down the drain.”

You stare into his eyes, “if you mean it, if you’ll go to rehab…you can be in this baby’s life. In my life. I love- I can’t - I love you so much and I want you to be mine but you - the drink and the music are your priorities.

“I’ll give it all up, baby.” Jack shakes his head and reaches for you. “Baby, I’ll give it all up for you. I’ll be a stay at home daddy if it means I get to have you and-“ Jack’s voice cracks. “Our baby. I love you, sugar. I don’t want to spend another minute without you.”

You let him pull you close, allowing yourself to snuggle into his chest, breathing him in. “I just want you to be there. Go to rehab and get sober and I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.” You promise, caressing his chest. “Our baby…our baby.” You grin and slide your hands up to cup his cheeks, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jack hums, right before the sounds from the stadium registers. The call from the crowd for you and Jack. The fans not leaving and chanting your names over and over again and Jack realizes that the crew hadn’t turned off your mics so your entire conversation had been broadcasted to the concert. “Oops.” Jack huffs, unconcerned with them hearing his confession, it’s nothing that isn’t in his song. “Think we’ve gone public, sugar.”

You bury your face in his chest, slightly embarrassed that the crowd heard it all but you knew it would all come out eventually. “Do you- the duet we wrote…maybe now is the time to try it live?” You ask, looking at him while you bashfully smile.

“I think now would be the perfect time to showcase a brand new song, a duet that probably is more emotional than we ever really thought it was gonna be.” Now thinking of the words, it was everything unsaid between you while on his tour. “Are you ready, baby? We can do it if you want to.”

You nod, knowing the whole world will know about your relationship and you want to put your words out into the world before the press gets hold of it. “Let’s do it.” You say and squeeze his hand as he starts to escort you on stage. The crowd roars as you come on stage and the band watch from the sides as Jack takes the guitar and winks at you, leaning in to kiss your cheek as your fingers flex around the mic. Jack starts to play and you sing a verse each, singing the chorus together and performing the song that summerized your relationship so far.

Jack watches you the entire time, stars in his eyes as he sings. Showing the crowd and the entire world how he feels about you. He knows that it will go viral, the news and the video uploaded onto social media. But for now, he’s just singing to you.

You sing back, the crowd blurring into the background as you focus on Jack and how you feel. “I love you.” You mouth at Jack when he finishes the song. He winks at you and pulls you close, pressing his lips to yours and the crowd roars, shouting their approval and congratulations. You smile against Jack’s mouth, excited for what the futures brings.

****

You sit there and look at Jack up on stage. He kept his promise and went to rehab, remaining sober from that day to this, and you watch him as he reads the prompter, dressed in a gorgeous suit you can’t wait to pull off of him later. You rub your bump and smile at him from your seat.

Jack beans into the camera, “and the winner for female breakout country artist is….” He fumbles with the envelope and lets out a whoop followed by your name. He had known you were going to win the CMT awards, he had told you that you were going to win when you had been nominated and then again when you were getting ready tonight. The other announcer claps and Jack is ecstatic as you come up and he rushes down to the edge of the stage to help you up the few stairs since you are now almost due. “I knew it was you, sugar.”

You grin, waddling on stage and wearing sneakers under your dress. Jack guides you to the podium and squeezes your hand, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Congratulations.” He murmurs and you cup his cheek, “thank you, darling.” You whisper before you turn to the microphone. “Wow…um, when I was getting ready tonight, my husband said to me that I was going to win but I didn’t believe him. It’s been a wild year. Going out on tour and falling in love with Jack Daniels, recording an album, finding out I was pregnant and getting married. This year has been the best year of my life and this is the cherry on top. Thank you for this award and I’d like to dedicate it to the man who gave me everything after hearing me sing in a bar one night.” You turn towards Jack and lean in to kiss him, “I love you so much.” The audience claps and you take the award in your hand, grinning at the crowd. “Now…you gonna take me home?” You ask Jack as you are escorted off stage.

“Always gonna take you home, sugar.” Jack presses his lips to yours and his hand caresses your stomach gently. “My country star of a wife deserves a hot bath to soak in and a foot rub by her adoring number one fan.” He coos, knowing that you will have your own kind of after party celebration. Together.

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