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babydollmarauders · 4 months

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IN THE LIGHTS — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which y/n and Jack are decorating the tree, and he finds another use for the christmas lights

warnings: fluffy cheesiness in the beginning, NSFW CONTENT, bondage, p in v (unprotected), fingering, degradation, praise, spit. (4k words)

notes: welcome to day 7 of the 12 days of kinkmas! where i wrote this smut in…not at all at christmas time! it’s no surprise to me that this is my favorite one because… it’s Jack.

“please, Jack?”

i’ve been begging for a week. pleading with my boyfriend to finally decorate our christmas tree.

usually, when i was back in my own apartment, i would make a fun night out of it with my friends. all of us getting together to listen to christmas music, drink spiked hot cocoa, and decorate my tree before hunkering down for holiday movies with big bowls of popcorn; that were meant to be used to make garland, but somehow always ended up with more in our mouths than on the string. but now i live with my boyfriend and his brother, and i had hoped we could decorate the tree together; starting a new tradition.

Jack seemed to love the idea when i brought it up, knowing how excited i get around the holidays and how much i loved the season. but with his hockey schedule being so busy, we haven’t exactly had the time to decorate it amongst roadies and the various home games and practices.

but now it’s December 20th, five days away from christmas, and he has a rare free night at home.

logically, i know Jack is probably dreading the decorating. my tidy boyfriend will surely hate the various boxes of ornaments around our living room and the sparkly tinsel that always seems to shed onto the floor. i know he’ll probably complain about my putting on the chipmunks christmas album, and the fact that i’m so anal-retentive about the placement of the ornaments and how the lights are spiraled around the tree.

but i also know that he’ll do it to make me happy. i know that although he’ll complain about some things, he’ll smile when i bring out the christmas cookies, and he’ll tease me about how the stockings have to be hung just right on the entertainment center or i’ll get chills and have to fix them while he sleeps.

which is exactly what i’m banking on to persuade him to say yes to giving up his relaxing night of sitting on the couch and watching hockey in order to help me decorate.

Jack looks over at me, situated under his arm on the couch, my cheek pressed to his shoulder as i make my best puppy dog eyes up at him.

“yeah.” he finally sighs, shaking his head as a bright grin breaks out across my face.

“thank you!” i squeal, quickly shifting from his hold. i sling a leg over him, straddling his lap and cupping his face in my hands. i pepper kisses all over his cheeks, forehead, and nose.

“alright, alright!” his face turns pink as he giggles, playfully trying to push me away.

i pull back just long enough to give him some reprieve before swooping back in and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“i love you.” i remind him sweetly, winding my arms behind his neck.

“i love you too, kiss monster.” i laugh at his teasing nickname, leaning forward to press my lips against his once more.

his hands come up to hold my ass and he chuckles into the kiss as i squirm a little at his touch.

“oh, c’mon guys, really?” our moment is broken by Luke’s voice, and i pull back to find my boyfriend’s brother walking through the living room, pulling a hoodie over his head. “other people live here, you know? i don’t wanna see my brother fondling his girlfriend in our living room.”

Jack’s head tips back in laughter, “fondling?”

“yeah, you know, what you were just doing?” Luke raises his eyebrows, pointing at his older brother’s hands that still rest on my butt. “i know you didn’t go to college but that’s like a fifth grade level vocab word, dude.”

“get outta here, you cock-block!” Jack huffs, one hand leaving my body in order to give Luke the middle finger and then shoo him off.

the younger boy shrugs, snagging his coat off the hooks by the front door.

“oh!” i pipe up before he can leave, garnering his attention. “where are you going? Jack said we could decorate the tree tonight! do you wanna join us?”

Luke’s eyes flick from me to his brother, and i look back at my boyfriend to find him looking at his younger sibling with the ‘be nice or i’ll convince Nico to make you skate extra laps’ look.

it’s a pretty oftenly used facial expression between the two, ever since Jack found me crying in our closet early this year because i thought Luke hated me after i moved in. that was also when i learned that Luke doesn’t dislike me, he’s just an extremely blunt person.

“i’m sorry, y/n/n, i have some friends from U of M in town for a couple days. we’re gonna hang out and catch up.” Luke explains nicely, obviously trying not to hurt my feelings. “i look forward to seeing it when i get home though! Jesper said your tree designs are legendary.”

“okay.” i give him an understanding smile, nodding my head. “have fun! and be careful!”

he gives me a thumbs up, heading out the door. as it clicks shut, i look back at my boyfriend, who’s already looking at me with a pitiful smile.

“i’m sorry,” he starts, rubbing a comforting hand up and down my back. “i know you wanted it to be all three of us.”

i shrug, “it’s fine. he should catch up with his friends.”

“it’ll be just us then.” Jack smiles, “a new tradition for us.”

“a new tradition for us.” i repeat, grinning as i lean forward to peck his lips.

it took another couple hours for Jack and i to finally get up and drag out all the decorations i had brought when i moved in; the boxes being stuffed in the back of the storage closet.

“jesus, babe.” he huffs, setting the final box down on the coffee table. “i knew you brought a lot, but six boxes?”

i shrug, already pulling the first box open, finding a wide array of ornaments inside.

“a box for everything.” i explain to him, pulling open a second box. “two boxes of ornaments, a box of lights, a box of tinsel, a box of stockings and their hooks, and a box of all my stuff for garland making.”

Jack rolls his eyes, pulling open another box. he reaches his hand in, pulling out a red and white knitted stocking with an embroidered ‘J’ on it.

“is this… for me?” his voice is soft as he looks at me in questioning.

“yeah! i made it after you asked me to move in!”

“you made this? just for me?” he steps in closer to me, a prideful smile on his face. “my girlfriend is magical with her hands.”

i chuckle, pulling the stocking from his grip.

“oh, don’t act like you didn’t already know that.” i wink and he pulls me in by my hips, pulling me flush against him.

“oh trust me, i knew it.” his words drip with lust, his head dipping down to capture my lips in a kiss, but it’s in that moment that the christmas song that fills the air switches, now playing ‘The Chipmunk Song’.

Jack groans, pulling away. “even the music is cock-blocking me tonight.”

the laugh that slips through my lips is quickly followed by a snort, which makes my boyfriend grin, crinkling his nose.

“let’s just start decorating.” he nods at my statement, letting me step away from his touch.

as i begin fluffing the tree branches, making sure they’re nice and spread for the decorations, Jack opens the last few boxes. i glance over for a second, watching him pull out two more stockings, matching his, these ones with Luke and i’s initials on them.

the corners of his lips quirk up as he sets them on the entertainment center, more than likely not wanting to risk hanging them without my guidance.

i finish fluffing the tree, pulling a can of spray snow from the tinsel box, and Jack throws me an odd look as i begin spraying the tree.

“what’s that?” he questions, coming over to join me by the tree.

“it’s spray snow.” i tell him as i continue spraying. “see how it gives the tree a white dusted look, as if it’s been in the snow?”

he nods, his brows still threaded together as he watches. i can feel his eyes on me as i bend over to spray the bottom branches of the tree, making sure no spots are left bare.

but when i stand back up, my boyfriend is stood right behind me, his hands coming down on my waist and pulling my ass against him.

“you know what you’re doing.” he hums, and with the feeling of his semi-hard bulge against me, i have a feeling he doesn’t just mean with the tree.

“Jack.” i scold playfully, turning around in his grip. “the lights please?”

he sighs, letting his hands fall back down to his sides as he steps back.

“right.” he huffs, turning back to the boxes and pulling out a string of perfectly untangled lights, thanks to my storage hack of wrapping them an empty paper towel roll.

he begins unraveling the lights, and once he has the entire string of them into his hands, he sets them to the side.

turning back to me, a smirk is glued to his lips, a dark look in his eyes. i squint at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

“what are you thinking?” i ask suspiciously, scanning him up and down. but he just shrugs, feigning innocence.

“who? me? i’m not thinking anything.” he could possibly be convincing, if i didn’t know that exact look all too well.

he’s been horny ever since we were on the couch, and this is his ‘i just got a dirty idea’ face.

“i’ll tell you what,” i start, holding a finger up to stop him mid-step forward. he hums, urging me to continue.

“you’re horny, i’m horny, we both want sex right now. but, you know how much doing the tree means to me. after we finish the tree, we can do whatever dirty little thing just popped into your head. but first, i want the tree done.”

Jack nods rapidly, “deal!”

i giggle at his excitement, watching as he turns back around and grabs the lights again, walking over to the tree.

“alright, how do we do this?”

i guide Jack through plugging the lights in before spiraling them around the tree, from bottom to top. once that’s done, Jack lifts me up, letting me place the topper on the tree.

“what’s next?” he asks me, standing in front of all the open boxes, his hands on his hips.

“draping the tinsel.” he groans at my words, pulling the tinsel out of its box.

we work together to spiral it around the tree, making sure it doesn’t cover the lights, before we finally start on ornaments.

with the two of us, it doesn’t take too long, but i can tell my boyfriend is getting impatient. especially with the way he keeps having to lift me up to put ornaments on the top branches, my body pressed against his as he does so.

the last thing we do is the stockings, me guiding Jack on how to space them out so that they’re evenly spaced at the front of the entertainment center.

when we finally finish it all, about an hour and a half later, i stand back, looking over our finished project with a smile.

Jack stands behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist, my back pulled against his chest.

“it looks great, baby.” he compliments, pressing a kiss to my cheek. blood rushes to my face, biting my lip. “Jesper was right, you really are legendary.”

“thank you, love.”

he wastes no time, squeezing my waist tighter as he speaks up again, “so…”

“yes, Jack.” i laugh, nodding my head. “now we can do whatever you thought of earlier.”

he excitedly pulls away, spinning me around and gripping my chin, making me look up at him. his eyes are dark, his voice low as he speaks.

“go to the bedroom, i want you naked and on the bed when i get in there.”

i nod, speeding off to the bedroom. as soon as i step through the threshold of our room, i’m tearing my sweater over my head, letting it drop to the floor. as i walk over to the bed, i unclip my bra, throwing it to the side as well. i stop at the edge of the bed, peeling my jeans down my legs, along with my panties, leaving me bare as i crawl to the middle of the bed.

i sit quietly, my legs tucked under me and my hands clasped on my knees.

the soft flow of christmas music from the living room stops, and i can hear Jack’s footsteps down the hall, getting closer and closer. i squirm a little in excitement, shifting my weight around and squeezing my thighs together.

he steps into the bedroom, one hand behind his back, smirking when he sees that i did what he told me.

“good girl.” he gruffs, stepping up to the edge of the mattress. “give me your hands.”

i hold my hands out, and it’s then that he brings his own out from behind his back, a spare string of lights in his grasp.

“what are you doing?” i ask, but my question is answered by his actions.

he grips my hands in one hand, pressing my wrists together, and begins wrapping the lights around my them.

“is this okay?” he asks softly, looking me in the eye as he speaks. i smile at his care, grateful to have a boyfriend that makes sure i give explicit consent to what he’s doing.

“yeah.” i nod, “this is okay.”

“you remember your safe word?” he finishes tying the lights around my wrists, not too tight, but just enough that i can’t slip my hands through.

“assist.” i tell him, and he smiles in confirmation.

“good.”

and like a flip of a switch, the soft and gentle Jack is gone, replaced by a dark and dominating one.

he allows me to watch him pull his hoodie cover his head, bringing his t-shirt with it, before he pushes me back on the bed. he crawls slowly over top of me, pushing my arms above my head and dipping down to lock his lips with mine.

the kiss is rough and dominating, his tongue pushing past my lips to tangle with mine. he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, pulling back with it caught between his teeth before letting it pop back into place.

he trails hot, wet kisses down my jawline, sucking gently at my neck as his hand grips my breast harshly, pinching my nipple between his fingers and pulling.

my back arches, pushing my breasts up towards him, a moan sounding from my throat.

“Jack.” i whimper as his hand begins to trail down my abdomen, getting closer and closer to where i need him.

i can feel him smirk against my skin, dipping his fingers down to find my clit. my hips buck against him, my hands pulling against the lights in attempt to separate so i can grip his back, and i whine when they can’t.

he begins to circle my clit with his thumb, rubbing in figure eights, and the high pitched sounds escaping my lips bounce off the walls of the bedroom.

my eyes squeeze shut, my chin tipping up towards the ceiling, and Jack pulls his lips from my neck, staring down at me and admiring my blissed state.

while his thumb rubs, he runs a finger through my wetness using it as lubrication to slip one finger into my heat.

my walls clench at the intrusion, my eyes rolling back as he crooks his finger inside of me.

“Jacky, please.” i breathe out, grinding myself down upon his hand. my own hands grip the pillow above me, the only thing i can think to do with them restricted.

“such a slut. you wanna come so bad, don’t you?” he spits out, “wanna make a mess all over my hand.”

i whimper, nodding my head rapidly as he slips a second finger into me, thrusting and curling them to push against my g-spot.

pressure builds in my stomach as he continues fucking me with his fingers, stretching me with a third digit. my toes curl, my walls clenching around him, and i know he can tell i won’t last much longer.

“you wanna come? say it.” Jack leans forward, whispering in my ear. “say you wanna come on my fingers like a fucking slut.”

i gasp as he thrusts his fingers in again, my orgasm quickly approaching.

“i’m a slut.” i squeak, a moan falling past my lips. “i wanna come on your fingers like a slut.”

i pry my eyes open, my boyfriend hovering his face above mine, and he nods.

“come.” he commands, and as if he summoned it out of me, my climax hits, my breath catching in my throat as the knot in my stomach disperses, my eyes rolling back and my hands struggling against their restraints.

Jack’s fingers still, only his thumb continues moving against my clit, and he leans down to kiss me. pulling away once my orgasm is done.

he sits back, pulling his fingers out of me and leaving me clenching around nothing, feeling empty. his hand smacks my thigh, and i open my eyes again to look at him, watching as his hand rises to his lips, sucking his fingers clean of my release, one at a time.

i release a shaky breath as he hums, my eyes falling down to find his erection straining against his sweatpants.

“you taste so sweet, baby.” he whispers, bringing my attention back to his face. “you want a taste?”

my lips part, nodding, and he smirks; but instead of pushing a finger to my lips, he dips down to eye level with my pussy, his tongue darting out as he starts licking through my arousal. my hips wiggle, bucking up against him, and he pushes them down before pulling away.

he crawls back over top of me, squeezing my jaw open, and spits, letting a slow string of my cum drip down onto my tongue. he closes my jaw, raising an eyebrow at me, and i swallow before opening again, sticking my tongue out to show him.

“such a good girl for me.” he praises.

my arms ache, and i contemplate asking him to untie me, but instead i wait for him to crawl off of me before i lower them back down to my stomach.

i watch with baited breath and a bitten lip as he drags his sweatpants down his hips, his boxers going with. his cock springs free, slapping against his lower stomach as he kicks his bottoms to the side.

my whine echoes through the room at the sight, longing to feel him in my hand, and Jack finds amusement in my torture, slowly walking back to the bed.

“you want my cock so bad, don’t you?” he pouts, mocking me. “you want me buried in your tight little pussy, filling you up?”

i let out a strangled whimper, nodding my head.

“please.” i beg, already knowing where this is headed. “please, Jack, i want you. i want you to fuck me so bad.”

he climbs onto the bed, cupping my cheek as he settles over top of me.

“you made me wait, maybe i should make you wait too.” he teases, beginning to pull back, but i quickly lock my arms around his neck, holding him in place. my tied up wrists helping in my endeavor. i shake my head.

“no, please. i’ll be good.” i plead. “i’ll be so good, just please fuck me.”

Jack nods, pressing a kiss to my lips. “okay.”

he uses his knee to spread my thighs further apart, one hand wrapping around himself, guiding his dick through my folds. my legs wrap around his waist, my back arching as his tip rubs against my swollen clit.

“you ready?” he stares down into my eyes, raised brows as he questions me.

“yes,” i start, “plea-”

i don’t even get to finish my words, cut off as he thrusts deep into me. i squeak, my eyes rolling back as he wastes no time; pulling almost all the way out before harshly snapping his hips against mine again.

“shit!” he curses, and i blink my eyes open to watch his head tip back in pleasure. “squeezing me like a fucking vice, baby.”

his voice is strained, and my hands grip his back to ground myself, my nails digging into his skin, surely leaving crescent shaped indentations.

his strokes slow before speeding up again, getting rougher with each thrust. my breathing quickens, and i use my arms to pull his lips back to mine.

our lips move in tandem, his tongue poking through to taste mine, our connection occasionally broken for a moan or a breath. i trail away from his lips, dragging the tip of my tongue along his jaw until a reach the end, placing an open mouthed kiss below his ear.

he groans, my hips bucking up to meet his thrusts, and i suck his earlobe between my lips before i go back to his.

our kisses are messy, teeth clashing with our rushed movements, but it fits the scene perfectly. his hand comes down to cup my breast, pinching and pulling my nipple as our skin slaps together.

the pressure begins to build again, a knot tying in my stomach, and my abdomen tightens, my walls clenching around him.

i’m still oversensitive from my first orgasm, and i can feel my second rapidly approaching.

“fuck, you gonna come on my cock?” he grunts, and i shake my head ‘yes’, speechless at the feeling that’s washing over me.

“do it.”

my body tenses, the sensations of him thrusting inside me while playing with my nipples throwing me over the edge. my nails dig deeper into his back as i finish, and his thrusts become sloppier and hurried.

within a minute, his hips stutter, his body tensing just like mine had moments ago, and he quickly pulls out, ropes of cum painting my stomach as he finishes.

our heavy breaths are the only sound left in the apartment, Jack bowing out from under my arms and flopping down on the bed beside me.

we take a few moments to replenish the oxygen in our lungs and Jack gently unties my wrists, pressing kisses to the skin there, despite them being perfectly fine.

as soon as my hands are free, i’m swiping a digit through his release on my stomach, looking over at him as i lick his cum off my finger.

“fuck.” he drags out, lust rejuvenating in his eyes. “baby, you’ve already had 2 orgasms, don’t make me wanna give you another.”

i bite back a smile, shrugging my shoulders, and he gets up, stalking into our en-suite bathroom, coming back a second later with a wet washcloth. he kneels on the bed, wiping my stomach clean before disappearing again.

when he reappears, he holds one of his t-shirts from our closet in our en-suite. he pulls on some clean boxers from his drawers, pulling another pair out, before coming back over to me. he helps me into the extra boxers, before i sit up.

“arms up, baby.” i follow his directions, letting him slip the t-shirt over my head before snuggling back into my pillow.

he climbs back into bed, pulling me closer until my head rests on his chest, and i mellow, listening to his heartbeat.

“so, is that part of the tradition too? or just the tree decorating?” he jokes, making me giggle in amusement.

his arms tighten around me as he places a kiss to my hair.

“check back next year, i’ll decide then.”

#faithlynn’s 12 days of kinkmas #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl smut #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

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thecouchsofa · 4 months

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You might be thinking, Tee, in your 2023 AO3 wrap up post, you said you wrote a ridiculous amount of HP fic this year - but what about reading? Well, thanks for asking, imaginary audience – as a matter of fact, I did indeed read a lot of Drarry fics this year. A fucking horrendous number of Drarry fics, in fact.

Below the cut are some of my favourites that were published in 2023, arranged by word count.

But first, a note: there is truly an overwhelming amount of talent in this fandom and this list only scratches the surface. These fics all gave me something that I was looking for and were my favourites for a number of different reasons. I hope you can find something new to love here (or reconnect with an old favourite), and that you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

If there’s a fic from 2023 that isn’t here but you really enjoyed, chuck it in the replies section so we can all see it!

🌸 AITA for being "obsessed" with my childhood nemesis? – @rainstormradish (4k, M) 🌸

Alrakis I [24M] attended a small boarding school in the UK. There was a boy in my year, a couple of months younger than me, and he became my nemesis after we developed an intense rivalry. My friend [25F] told me recently that our dynamic was "weird back then" and that "it’s even weirder" that I still think about him today. She argued that I talk about him all the time, but I believe the amount I talk about him is reasonable. AITA?

prongymcprongface i completely get what you mean. i had a nemesis (like a school one, separate to my other nemesis) and we had a dynamic super similar to what you are describing. having a nemesis is a very cool and normal thing dw about it. NTA

In which Draco asks the internet if he's being reasonable. Only one commenter is sympathetic. They start talking.

Read for: unique fic idea with a cool layout, humour, boys being idiots

🌻 Snug – @moonflower-rose (6k, E) 🌻

Potter can't keep his hands off himself. Draco can't look away.

Read for: Draco being Obsessed with Harry(‘s cock), Humorous Writing Style

🪻 Birds Behaving Badly – @peachpety (10k, E) 🪻

For eight years, Draco has been content living a quiet life of anonymity in Brighton, dodging pesky seagulls and enjoying the ephemeral boys of summer. And if these summer blokes just happen to resemble Harry Potter, it’s a mere coincidence—despite what his friends say.

But when a repeat one-night stand challenges him to face his desires, Draco thinks he’s finally over his years-long crush.

A seagull named Kevin thinks otherwise.

For: Unleashed!Fest 2023

Read for: hidden/mistaken identity, summer vibes, Kevin the seagull

🌸 Under the Confetti Mist – @azalealarae (12k, E) 🌸

Harry and Draco stay up late working on a Potions assignment in the poorly ventilated eighth-year common room, unaware that disinhibition is a side effect of the elixir’s vapor.

Read for: Sex Pollen, Drarry as Potions partners

🌻 Hellos, goodbyes, a thousand midnights – newskyillusion (13k, M) 🌻

The world, as Harry knew it, has ended.

At least he has a garden.

Harry and Draco live through the apocalypse

For: Drarry Let’s Play Fest 2023

Read for: body horror, cosy vibes (just trust me, lol), Harry gardening, Powerful Harry, Harry and Draco relying on each other.

🪻 Amorous As This Lovely Green – @annanother-thing (14k, E) 🪻

Harry hates being a celebrity. Draco cannot find a single model that fits his vision for his latest line. They both make the debatable choice of trusting one PA extraordinaire/best friend, Pansy Parkinson.

For: Harry/Draco Career Fair 2023

Read for: Harry modelling lingerie, Hot Harry

🌸 Help! I'm a Hopeless Romantic! – @peachydreamxx (14k, M) 🌸

Draco turns from the bar, eyes latching onto Harry. He surveys him, one brow lifting, and Harry, like a deer in headlights, throws his hand up with the world’s most awkward wave. Draco just weaves out of sight, and Harry’s face burns as Ron pats him on the shoulder, then steals a chip. “He gave you a look, didn’t he?”

~ how to get over your crush

~ places that sell cake after 11pm near me

~ how to tell if someone is playing hard to get

A year in the life of Harry's shared moments, and private thoughts

For: Wheel of Drarry Mini-Exchange Secret Santa 2023

Read for: Harry’s Google Searches, Humour

🌻 Cool About It – @oflights (M, 16k) 🌻

Harry is so excited for his first date with Draco. But what follows isn't so much a date as it is an all-night odyssey including a malevolent lift, a Gringotts heist, a Sleeping Curse, a trip to the kebab shop, a lack of dancing, a Muggle drug, a rooftop pool party, a black eye and, eventually, a sunrise over a Quidditch stadium.

Read for: Humour, idiots in love, first dates

🪻 The Eighth Sin – @thehoneybeet (16k, E) 🪻

When Draco is sentenced to five years of house arrest, without magic, alone, the only person to visit him is Potter. But Draco’s beginning to doubt whether Potter is really there at all.

For: HD Wireless 2023

Read for: dreamy/sad vibes, caring Harry, a beautiful exploration of a relationship

🌸 What’s Mine is Yours – @fluxweeed (17k, E) 🌸

Harry loses something important. Malfoy helps him get it back.

Read for: smut so hot it’ll light you on fire

🌻 O Come, All Ye Faithful – toomuchplor (19k, E) 🌻

Aunt Petunia died, that was what began everything.

Or rather, Aunt Petunia was dying. In the act of dying.

In which Draco finds faith in the church, and Harry finds faith in Draco.

Read for: Vicar Draco, Harry’s Vicar Kink, Beautiful Writing, Draco’s Hard Sanctified Cock

🪻 The Boys of Summer – @saxamophone (19k, E) 🪻

It's summer, and they're spending it at a lake, far away from everything. There’s swimming and a floating dock, cracked and warm in the sun. Fizzy drinks and fireflies. Sticky strawberry ice lollies and beach towels tangled under them.

Harry’s golden skin and love for The Grateful Dead and Fleetwood Mac.

Draco Malfoy is doomed, but what else is new?

For: HD Wireless 2023

Read for: delicious pining, summer vibes, beautiful romance, nostalgic vibes

🌸 Nature pricks them on to ramp and rage – @goblinmatriarch (E, 21k) 🌸

Lord Draco Malfoy may be a young man spending time in Dumbledore’s summer court, but that does not mean he needs to succumb to its licentious frivolity. He carries the burden of his lineage, the shadow of rumours, and the dignity of his betrothal to a good match. He is certainly not fool enough to be distracted by the dark curls and ready grin of the court’s stableboy, who seems to have taken up with every courtier who looks his way.

For: HP Bodice Ripper Fest 2023

Read for: Historical AU done right, Draco in a codpiece, more riding euphemisms than you can count

🌻 True Love Gave To Me – @epitomereally (23k, E) 🌻

It’s the first of December, and all Draco wants to do is make Christmas lovely for Scorpius. But then Harry Potter shows up, asking him to save the world, and it turns out they’ve almost saved the world a couple of times before. One-hundred and forty-four times, to be exact.

Or: what happens after the time loop?

For: H/D Erised 2023

Read for: time loop shenanigans, cosy vibes, adorable Scorpius (and his geese)

🪻 Nothing But You On My Mind – @moonflower-rose (29k, M) 🪻

Potter has been in Australia on an internship for almost a year, and Draco cannot wait for him to get back home. They'll finally have a chance to talk about their feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong?

Loads, as it turns out.

For: HD Wireless 2023

Read for: Angst, Draco/Ron/Hermione Friendship, idiots in love

🌸 who will receive you in love's offices – @jtimu (30k, E) 🌸

A year in the life of Draco Malfoy, increasingly derailed by Harry Potter.

In the aftermath of it all, Draco opened an antiques shop. Sort of. Mostly, though, what he did was repair work. People brought him their grandparents’ charmed silverware or a pocketwatch which was meant to show the stars at your birth but now only held the time, and he would fix them. It was quiet work, a little lonely, but for the repeated intrusions of one Harry J Potter.

Read for: brilliant deep dive into magical theory, smarty pants Draco, enemies to friends to lovers (emphasis on the middle step), poetry references by the bucketful, a version of Draco that lives rent free in my mind

🌻 Half Sick of Shadows – @starquestingfordrarry (39k, E) 🌻

Harry and Draco have been sleeping together for months, and it's fine. It's enough for Harry.

But when things finally start to feel like the more Harry's been hoping for, a strange tapestry project has him worrying he won't ever get the chance.

Or: the one with sheep, dragons, and a whole lot of weaving metaphors.

For: H/D Career Fair 2023

Read for: Alvin the ram, Harry carving wooden dildos, magical tapestries, atmospheric vibes, an artfully created world

🪻 Now I Know In Part – @dodgerkedavra (39k, E) 🪻

Harry Potter is the savior of the Wizarding World. Draco Malfoy is a reformed Death Eater turned Ministry Curse-Breaker. Five years after the War, they're brought together by another mysterious curse.

Only this time, Harry's the one who needs saving.

More specifically, he needs Draco.

They have one month to break the curse, and the clock is ticking.

Read for: Draco taking care of Harry, Cottagecore vibes, bucketfuls of sweetness, great smut

🌸 Nothing Gold Can Stay – @moonflower-rose (40k, E) 🌸

One summer evening, Harry Potter vanished in the middle of dinner with his friends. Four days later he came back. Sort of.

Draco Malfoy is on the case.

For: H/D Erised 2023

Read for: Alternate Universes, Married Draco/Harry, Non-Painful Angst

🌻Sharper than a Sea Serpent's Tooth – @goblinmatriarch (40k, T)

Draco expects his research trip to Crete to focus on the ecology of ward design, with perhaps some cheeky visits to the elusive sea serpents and the odd sleepy beach day. Instead, he encounters a Past he's spent over a decade trying to outrun, and a familiar scowl under glasses and a scar. Featuring just so much imagining being on a hot, sunny beach for your winter pleasure.

For: H/D Erised 2023

Read for: Magical Creatures, Greek Mythology, International Location (Crete), Atmospheric Writing

🪻 LA, Who Am I To Love You? – @epitomereally (42k, E) 🪻

Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.

For: HD Wireless 2023

Read for: Werewolf Harry, Incubus Draco, Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers, Interesting Location (LA)

🌸 A Pulled Down Shade – fast_brother (43k, M) 🌸

Harry does not like Draco Malfoy, not even one bit. Never did and never will. That is, until he finds himself married to him.

For: HP Soulmates Fest 2023

Read for: HUGE Grounds for Divorce vibes! Angst, Harry working through trauma, Harry fighting for Draco

🌻 The Waiting – @oknowkiss (43k, E) 🌻

It’s been almost ten years since Draco Malfoy disappeared during a routine Curse Breaker training exercise. Harry, his partner in more ways than one, is determined to figure out why. As the past resurfaces and the present fades into confusion, Harry discovers the only thing more unreliable than memory is love.

For: HD Wireless 2023

Read for: Curse Breaker Partners, Angst, Secret Relationship

🪻 The Unplottable Time Conundrum – @writcraft (45k, E) 🪻

When the past starts bleeding into the present at Grimmauld Place, an old academic article pulls Draco Malfoy out of his life of luxury. Haunted by the memory of a fleeting post-war kiss and thrust into the ghostly spaces inhabited by Unspeakable Harry Potter, Draco’s easy life is about to get a whole lot more complicated.

For: H/D Erised 2023

Read for: House Magic, The Order of the Pheonix, Haunted House vibes, Drarry in their 30s

🌸 Our Objective Remains Unchanged – @citrusses (46k, E) 🌸

Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order.

Read for: Muggle AU, Sports AU, Competitiveness, Damn good writing

🌻 Everybody Hates a Tourist – @wolfpants (51k, E) 🌻

On a stag do in sunny Brighton with the Gryffindor lads, the last person Harry expects to run into is Draco Malfoy. After a glimpse of Malfoy’s Muggle life in Britain’s gay capital, Harry’s curiosity gets the better of him and he finds himself returning to the seaside again and again, drawn to the city, drawn to this new version of Malfoy that Harry barely recognises from school.

Meanwhile, Draco’s just trying to live his big and best queer life: working for the weekend, chasing hot men, getting lost in Brighton's nightlife, and making friends with the neighbourhood cats. Why does his former school rival and crush have to show up and spoil everything?

For: HD Wireless 2023

Read for: beautiful relationship building, Harry finding himself, Draco living his best life. I won’t lie, I’d read the back of a cereal box if wolfpants wrote it – do yourself a favour if you haven’t already

🪻 from love, obviously – bizarrestars (52k, M) 🪻

"I just mean, doing the right thing because it's right is better than doing it because…"

"What?" Draco challenges, amused. "Better to do it because it's right as opposed to doing it because it's not wrong? Please enlighten me on what the difference is."

"You're the difference," is Harry's answer.

(Or: Draco Malfoy comes up with a plan, drinks a lot of tea, and fails to fix a clock. Somewhere along the way, Harry Potter falls in love with him, which wasn't a part of the plan at all.)

Read for: Unhinged Draco, Harry being resigned to Draco’s antics, Weasley family feels, fast pacing

🌸 Terrible People – @getawayfox and @wolfpants (52k, E) 🌸

What happens when Harry and Draco end up on the same Muggle gay cruise? They certainly didn't plan for it to happen (but their friends might have). They're stuck with each other for a week, they might as well make the most of it, right?

Featuring a holiday-long game of Truth or Dare, a very ill-judged FWB proposition, decades-long pining, lots of gin, and a small pair of green swimming trunks.

Read for: Gorgeous Art , RomCom vibes, Gay Cruise, Friends with Benefits to Lovers

🌻 Nights With You – @the-sinking-ship (58k, E) 🌻

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend.

Now all Draco has to do is convince him.

Read for: Fake dating, mild size kink, international location (Italy), mildly unhinged Draco, hot Harry

Note: This is the fic that made me set up a Doc for everything I’d read to make sure I wouldn’t lose it to the wide realm of the internet.

🪻 Rookie Moves – peu_a_peu (75k, E) 🪻

Aurors Potter and Malfoy crack the case.

Read for: Humour, Enemies to Coworkers to Lovers, Unhinged Draco

🌸 How To Train Your Malfoy – @fencer-x (93k E) 🌸

Good manners dictate that, when one’s best friend Apparates onto one’s doorstep holding the unconscious, haggard body of the schoolyard bully and begging for sanctuary, one ought to invite the two of them in for a cup of tea. Harry Potter sometimes wishes he weren’t so polite.

For: H/D Erised 2023

Read for: Dragon Animagus Draco, Harry taking care of Draco, brilliant writing, a funny as fuck premise – I wanted Draco to stay in his unhinged dragon form forever

🌻 Symptom of Your Touch – NoxNoir (115k, E) 🌻

St. Mungo's Healer Draco Malfoy is used to being pushed to his limits when providing aide to the ailing, but when an unexpected encounter with an out of character Harry Potter throws his life out of balance one night, he is forced to ask himself how far he's willing to push his own levels of discomfort to be of aid to a man in need of help that only he can provide.

Read for: Draco taking care of Harry, Pining, Unrequited love, buckets of sexual tension

🪻 Recursion – Tessa Crowley (132k, E) 🪻

A process is recursive when it defines or contains itself; e.g., the Fibonacci sequence, which determines the next number as the sum of the previous two.

But not all recursive processes are mathematical. Recursion can happen in a temporal context when, for instance, the powerful magical force that is true love drags you back in time so it can create itself, endangering the fate of the Wizarding World—not to mention the very fabric of space and time—along the way.

Read for: Canon Retelling/Divergence, time travel, Slytherin Harry, a truly insane amount of physics/magical theory/intelligence. This fic was too smart for me in the best way. If you liked Chaos Theory read this – it’s even better!

🌸 Cut From the Sky – @mallstars (150k, E) 🌸

"I'm stuck in a time loop, reliving November 2nd. This is the 111th time I've lived through today."

Draco stilled. His moody eyes, the tension in his hands where he gripped onto his umbrella, the careful mask of blankness flickering over his face — everything about him was so difficult and so very dear to Harry.

"Ah," said Draco, "and?"

Note: no rec list for this year could be considered complete without including this one.

Read for: Harry at his most loveable, a relationship story told a hundred different ways, atmospheric worldbuilding, Trans representation.

🌻 In the Blood – BiscuitBrunch (225k, E) 🌻

Harry Potter thinks Draco Malfoy is a slimy git of a defense lawyer, who couldn't care less about doing the right thing.

Draco Malfoy thinks Harry Potter is a filthy pig of an Auror, who couldn't care less about doing the right thing.

They fight, fuck, fall in love, and fight some more.

When they're on the brink of getting their shit together and starting a family, a blood curse surfaces that threatens the lives of Draco and their unborn child.

Read for: badass lawyer Draco, deep exploration of a relationship, working through trauma, slice of life, mpreg

#drarry #drarry recs #drarry fics #drarry fanfiction #hpdm #harry x draco #best of 2023

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gummydummy19 · 4 months

Text

The bear and his honey

Summary: How grumpy Sy won your heart and you won his :))

Content Warnings: Fluff, sunshine x grumpy trope, smut (oral, fingering, piv, creampie, pet names, praise, hint of a size kink)

A/N: Look at that! I wrote another Sy fic! @omgkatinka sent me this: After that fic today I kept thinking about first dates with Sy. And how either epic or awful it would be if your first date was getting stuff from ikea and assembling the stuff together. I feel like that would either forge an unbreakable alliance or doom the connecton right away. But I really like the idea. and I LOVED IT so I included that in here as well :)) It's not their first date but I hope you still like it <3

Word Count: 4k+ (holy shit)

Like a little girl seeing a big teddy bear at the fair, you were sold when you first met Sy. There was something immediately comforting about him. He was quiet and a little grumpy, but he always treated you with respect. A real Southern gentleman, as they say.

It took a long time before he asked you out. You kept running into him at get-togethers, always being drawn to him from the second you walked in.

In the beginning, you worried you were coming on too strong, always sticking to his side, asking him questions, flirting with him...

One night your entire friend group got together again for a cookout and drinks around the fire. Everyone was perfectly tipsy and content, and when the conversation started taking a more juvenile turn, you heard something that made your cheeks feel warm.

"Oh come on, everyone knows Sy's got it bad for you!", Cory boomed, swinging around his beer.

"Shut up, Cory", you hushed him, dismissing it quickly. You tried to ignore the way your stomach fluttered at the idea of Sy being into you, but when you saw him blushing, (yes, blushing) on the other side of the fire you felt your heart swell.

After that night, you started getting more confident. You loved teasing him, always poking the bear. You tried to get a rise out of him every chance you got, knowing he had a soft spot for you.

Admittedly, you were having a fun time pushing his buttons, but after almost two weeks of flirty comments and hanging under his arm whenever you could, he still hadn't asked you out.

So after another night of teasing, flirting, a couple of debatably too-strong martinis, and what Cory called "canoodling" you finally hit your breaking point.

"Are you planning on asking me out? Like ever?", you blurted out.

Okay, those martinis were definitely too strong.

"Ya want me to?"

Is he joking?

He chuckled and you realised you said that last bit out loud.

That Friday he showed up on your doorstep at exactly 6pm, on the dot, and handed you a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.

You could tell he really made an effort. He was wearing a button-up shirt and what looked like a fresh, new pair of jeans.

"Oh Sy, these are beautiful!", you squealed, before pressing a chaste kiss to his fuzzy cheek, 'Let me go put them in water, and then we'll be on our way!'

He didn't say much, he just grumbled as you skipped about your apartment in your pretty little dress, like you didn't know exactly what you were doing to him.

He took you to the most expensive restaurant in town, where he briefly told you about his job and his family before casually shifting the conversation back to you.

You let your foot wander up his leg while you innocently told him about yourself, loving the way he startled when the waiter showed up.

Afterward, he walked you home and gave you a kiss on your cheek, just as innocent as the one you had given him before. You were a little disappointed when he didn't come in, but you decided to deem his chivalry as charming.

A week and a half later, he took you to the drive-in for your second date. They showed some old James Bond movie, the perfect combination of action and steamy romance as you cuddled closer to him in his truck.

During a particularly spicy scene, you let your hand wander up his thigh, but before you got to his crotch, he stopped you.

You looked up at him with a frown, but to your surprise, his eyes were still glued to the screen.

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, thinking maybe you read the situation wrong. Maybe he just wanted to be friends? Maybe that's why he didn't kiss you last time? Why he didn't wanna come upstairs with you...

The nasty thoughts kept pouring in and you felt yourself spiral down. You shuffled away from Sy's embrace, gently moving to sit as far away from him as possible, half debating just getting out of the car completely.

'What's wrong?' Sy asked as he looked at you, sitting against the door of his truck.

"If you don't want me you can just say that Sy," you said bitterly, staring out the window.

When you heard him chuckle, you angrily snapped your head back to see if you were actually hearing it correctly.

"Oh, you think that's funny?" you spat.

You tried to open the door. You wanted to leave. To get as far away from him as possible, but the door was locked, and before you could protest, he wrapped his big arm around your waist and swiftly pulled you back against him.

You had no time to wriggle yourself out of his grip, because he moved his bearded face down to your ear and whispered, "You can't always get what you want, sugar."

You didn't know what to say. His actions had already confused you and now his words confused you even more.

He grinned at your puzzled look, grabbing your chin in his large paw.

"What do you want?" he asked calmly, looking straight into your eyes.

"You."

"You have me," he stated, making butterflies erupt in your stomach

"Doesn't fucking feel like it." you dared, keeping your voice low and your eyes away from his.

"Bratty little thing, aint ya?," he grinned, secretly a little proud at your ballsiness, tho he'd never admit it.

His grasp on your jaw tightened, making your eyes snap back at his.

"If you want something, you gotta ask nicely, sugar." he drawled, leaning in a bit closer, "Now, what do you want from me."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire. Your eyes darted from his gorgeous eyes down to his plush lips and back before you spoke, "A kiss, please."

A cheesy grin spread over his face and he loosened his grip on your jaw, moving his hand to cup the side of your face, gentle but firm.

He leaned in, his breath mingling with yours as he spoke, "Such a polite girl," before finally attaching his lips to yours.

That night you realized Sy wasn't as soft as you thought he was, in fact, he had quite the mean streak...

Another week of sweet texts and teasing phone calls later, you knew you were in deep.

Your third date wasn't even supposed to be a date. He took you for a walk in the park. You started holding his hand about halfway through the walk, with little intention of ever letting go.

It was meant to be a short stroll, just to get some air, but soon the sun started setting and your stomach started rumbling.

'Ya hungry? I know a good place nearby', he stated, pulling you closer against his side.

'Sy...I'm really not dressed for anything fancy...', you replied, knowing Sy's definition of 'a good place' when it came to you.

'Don't you worry sugar, you're dressed just fine', he grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

20 minutes later you were standing at a food truck, being introduced as 'his girl' to one of his old army buddies wearing a 'kiss the cook' apron.

While you munched on your greasy food, Sy told you the truck had been there since last summer, after their last tour. He was there every week.

It wasn't hard to notice the way Sy shifted when he talked about his work. You didn't push or pry, you just listened, letting your thumb trace over his hand as he opened up to you. Funny, how this thing with a man you had only kissed once already felt like the most intimate relationship you'd ever been involved in.

Two weeks after your first kiss, you got Sy to join you for a trip to Ikea. You needed a new bookshelf and your car was too small to fit it, so you convinced Sy to bring his truck. Getting to stroll around with him through the hallways with your hands linked was simply a bonus.

When you first walked in, you could tell Sy was a little uncomfortable. This wasn't exactly his area, fluffy rugs, decorative pillows,...he felt so out of place. But seeing you with a big smile on your face, dragging him around to show him which wineglasses you liked, made it worth it.

You made him feel at ease, but nervous at the same time. The whole thing felt so domestic, so innocent. So, why was the only thought on his mind pushing you onto one of those beds and fucking you six ways from Sunday?

Aside from that kiss in the car and a couple steamy messages, not much had happened between the two of you. It's not like you didn't want to, you just wanted to take it slow and Sy was trying to be a tease gentleman.

By the time you got to the storage place, he was a lot more relaxed. Maybe it was the fact that there were no more soft blankets or colorful couches. This part of the building was definitely more his vibe. Though, being able to show off his strength when it was time to carry the boxes may also have something to do with it...

You were almost at checkout, Sy was pushing the cart, half his view was blocked and he was trying not to crash into anything when he heard you squeal loudly.

"OH MY GOD!"

"What? What happened?" He peaked past the mountain of cardboard. He was worried something might have happened, but when he saw what you were holding, he grinned in confusion.

"He looks just like you!" you exclaimed happily, holding a big, stuffed bear with dark brown fur. "I'm taking him home with me."

Sy tried to keep a stern look but failed miserably, chuckling while he pulled you into him.

"What, am I not enough for you anymore? Should I be worried?", he joked.

"Don't you worry, baby. You will always be my big bear. The little one is just for when you're not around", you explained.

"Well if I'm your bear, you're my honey", he mumbled, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. God, he always smelled so fucking good... "Oh! I can spray some of your cologne on him!"

You kept babbling happily as you dragged Sy to the checkout. He didn't even know how long he had been smiling, but somehow he just couldn't stop. Fuck, what are you doing to him?

45 minutes later it was your turn to try and suppress your laugh. You were sitting on your couch, sipping a glass of white wine, and watching your man try and prove just how manly he is.

"Sy, honey, I really think if you just looked at the instructions..."

"I don't need no damn instructions, it's a fucking bookshelf", he grumbled.

"Alright, suit yourself...", you sighed, turning the page of your magazine.

Barely a second later you got startled by a loud bang and a string of curses. You looked up to see the damage and were met with a fuming Sy clutching his thumb.

"Not a word", he said.

"M'not saying anything!", you chuckled.

Another ten minutes passed in silence, aside from the occasional grumble coming from the bulky man you were rapidly falling in love with.

You finally dropped down the magazine next to you and put down your wine.

"Would you just let me help?", you asked, standing in front of him.

"I don't need-"

"Yes, you fucking do! Stop being so damn stubborn, Sy! It's not a sin to look at the manual! It's what it's fucking there for!", you finally snapped.

Sy looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. He straightened himself, towering over you.

"You don't scare me, big guy", you dared, crossing your arms.

He raised his brow, tilting back his head a tiny bit as he peered down at you.

"Alright", his voice was calm and collected. A beat of silence passed and the tension could be cut with a knife.

You were starting to get a little confused, not entirely sure what the vibe was anymore but then, without an ounce of effort, Sy picked you up and swung you over his beefy shoulder.

"Sy! What the hell are you doing? Logan??"

A squeal left your throat when you were dropped down on your mattress. You barely had any time to process what was happening before Sy was on top of you, pinning your arms above your head as his body covered yours.

"You and that damn mouth of yours", he groaned, "always running ain't it? See what happens when you poke a bear?"

"He finally wants to taste his honey?" you spoke softly.

"Oh, honey, you have no idea", he said before he captured your lips with his.

You tried to wriggle your hands free to touch him, but he wouldn't budge, chuckling into your mouth as he felt you struggle.

"What have I told you about asking for what you want, hmm?"

"Sy, please...", you started begging.

'Please what? Use your words"

"C'mon....just lemme touch you, Sy, s'not funny anymore...", you whined, desperately trying to get closer to him, but you were no match for his strength.

Admittedly, feeling how much bigger and stronger than you he was made you drip right through your panties, but that didn't mean you weren't still desperate to get your hands on him.

Sy finally took pity on you and released your wrists. Your hands immediately clawed at his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer as you pulled him in for another breathtaking kiss. One of his big hands semi-gently held your cheek while the other pawed at your body, wherever he could.

It didn't take long before clothes went flying, both yours and his. The sound of his belt unbuckling ran in your ears as your blood pumped faster.

"Fuck, I want you so bad...", you mumbled under your breath, your eyes raking over his furry chest before landing on the tent in his boxers.

"I want you too, baby, so so bad". Blood rushed to your face at the realization that he had heard you. He still had a grin on his face, but this time it was different. Less mean, more dopey.

"Wanna taste you...", he mumbled as he pressed kisses between your breasts and down your stomach.

"Fuck, Sy..."

The first lick between your sticky folds already had him moaning into your pussy. "Sweetest honey I've ever fucking tasted...", he groaned before burying his face back in between your legs.

He ate you out with vigor, swiping his tongue around your clit just enough to drive you crazy before dipping it down to lick long stripes up and down your slit. With all the pent-up tension (and Sy's insane cunnilingus skills), it didn't take long at all before you felt that familiar heat pool down in your belly.

You arched your back off the bed, one hand digging into Sy's scalp as the other frantically grabbed at your pillow.

"Oh fuck, fuck...", you moaned as you felt yourself starting to creep closer to the edge. Sy focussed his full attention solely on your clit now, sucking and nibbling on it while he pressed two of his thick fingers inside you. He curled them up, finding your spot almost immediately and you screamed.

"AH shit! Please please please, don't stop...m'gonna cum!”, you babbled with an unsteady voice.

Usually you don't like to tell your partner when you're about to cum, because for some reason they always seemed to take that as a sign to start doing completely different shit, but you trusted Sy. He clearly knew what he was doing, and to your delight, he kept doing it exactly like that until your thighs were trembling on his shoulders.

You felt the waves of your orgasm roll through your body, your hips mimicking the movement as you bucked against his face. He didn't seem to mind one bit.

He kept his fingers inside you, perfectly stimulating the spongy spot they were nestled against while his lips nursed on your swollen clit, prolonging your orgasm.

Your entire body felt like it was on fire as you waited for Sy to stop, so you could finally breathe again. But to your surprise, the big beast between your legs didn't even show signs of slowing down.

"S-Sy...fuck fuck stop...stop stop stop...", you tried to squirm away from the sensitive feeling, but he kept you firmly in his grip.

"fuck..shit..sensitive...too sensitive..Sy, FUCK!" you moaned when the pain suddenly turned into overwhelming pleasure. The only thing you could do was scream for him. With every knock of his fingers against your spot you felt a pressure build, and when his strong arm pressed down harder on your belly, you swore your vision went white.

You wailed as you came again in a manner that could only be described as violent. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you felt yourself gush all over Sy's mouth and fingers. Your brain was too fuzzy to be embarrassed about it. He helped you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he finally let up.

"Fucking hell...", he spoke up first. Your eyes blinked open and you sat up a bit to look at him. You were still finding the right words, trying to piece your brain back together, and then you saw it. The drops in Sy's beard, the wet spot on the mattress...oh my god...no no no no no.

It was as if Sy could read your mind, either that or the horrified look on your face was more obvious than you thought it was.

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my entire life", he stated.

"Really?"

"Absolutely", he promised.

You looked at the twinkle in his eyes and you knew he wasn't lying. God damn, where has this man been all your life. Before you could stop yourself, you pulled him forward by the neck and smashed your lips against his, not caring one bit about the wetness of his beard.

He groaned when you pushed him back on the bed. "My turn", you grinned as you straddled him. You gave him one last peck before peppering kisses on his neck and across his chest.

"Fuck, honey...", he mumbled, gently moving your hair out of your face and keeping a gentle hold of it.

You finally shimmied down his boxers. His cock sprung free. Hard, throbbing, and all yours. You grabbed him by the base and pressed a few teasing kisses along the length of him before licking up a stripe and finally taking the head in your mouth.

A low rumble could be heard deep in his chest as you took him deeper, determined to fit him entirely. To your disappointment, you started gagging when he was barely halfway. You wanted to try again, but Sy gently tugged on your hair. "Not necessary, sweetheart"

"But I wanna make you feel good", you pouted.

"You are, feels so good princess, doesn't have to be all the way to feel good", he reassured you.

You took him in your mouth again and gently bobbed your head up and down, glancing up at him to see his eyes droop. You would have kept going for hours if it meant getting to see him like this. Sadly, he pulled you off his dick way too soon for your liking.

"Wha-but you haven't cum yet!", you whined.

"That's 'cause I'm gonna cum in this pretty pussy.", he stated before flipping you over, leaving him on top of you once again.

"Been wanting to fuck you for so long, you know that? Always skipping around in those damn skirts, teasing me...", he kissed you before you could reply. His rough hands traced about your body, squeezing and kneading at your flesh wherever he could.

You let your knees fall open next to his thighs, opening up for him. When the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You okay, baby?" he asked when he noticed your sudden nervousness.

"Yeah..."

"That doesn't sound very convincing", Sy spoke, sitting up a little. "We don't have to go any further, you know that right? I'm perfectly content just arguing with you over a bookshelf", he grinned and you felt yourself relax.

You gave him a sweet smile and tugged him down for a kiss. The kiss was slow and meaningful, different than before. When he pulled back, Sy's eyes found yours, "What's going on, hmm?" he asked, his tone calm and caring.

"Just been a while...", you stated shyly.

"Been a while for me too, honey, a long while", he admitted.

"How long?", you asked curiously, making him chuckle. "Seven months.", he replied, "and I can wait another seven if you want me to." It was your turn to chuckle, "Luckily, I don't want you to", you kissed him again.

"Since Cory's pool party...", you mumbled against his lips.

"Hmm?"

"Cory's pool party, when I first met you. Don't know how long ago that was exactly, but that's how long it's been for me".

Sy stared at you with wide eyes. You couldn't read his expression, but after a few beats, his eyes softened. He leaned in closely, his cock still stiff between your legs.

"Seven months", he whispered, "that's how long that's been."

His words and what they meant hung in the air for a couple seconds and you couldn't figure out what to say, so you settled for, "Fuck me, Sy. Please?"

He grinned and reached in between your trembling bodies to grab his cock, pushing it between your folds. "I'll go slow, sweetheart. Trust me. If I don't, this s'gonna be over real soon".

He slid inside with ease, the stretch was there but bearable. His head dropped to your shoulder when he was fully in, hot breath and scruffy beard tickling your neck. Your legs wrapped around his hips, trying to urge him deeper somehow.

After what seemed like a century (not that you were complaining), he dragged his hips back, sliding almost completely out of you before pushing back in. He repeated his movement a couple times. Your whines turned into moans, getting louder as his thrusts got rougher.

"Fucking hell...best pussy I've ever had", he groaned, pumping into you at a faster pace. He hiked up one of your legs higher over his hip, making him hit inside you deeper while grinding on your still-sensitive clit.

You moaned loudly. Your nails scratched over his biceps and he groaned in your ear. Neither of you was gonna last long and you both knew it.

"Mine", he growled and you almost came on the spot.

"Yours, Sy! Only yours!", you kept babbling while he absolutely destroyed your body, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!"

"Cum for me, baby, fuck..."

Your final orgasm of the night consumed you. "Cumming! I'm cumming...fuck please cum inside me Sy, OH!", you moaned so loud you were sure the neighbors heard you, but you didn't care. Sy grabbed your hips roughly as he chased his own release, following suit before yours was even over.

He looked godly. His hairy chest was all sweaty, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut...you swore you got another tiny orgasm just looking at him and feeling his cock throb inside you.

"Shit...", he groaned breathlessly, "I swear I usually last longer...", he started but you stopped him right away. "Sy, you made me cum three times in the last 45 minutes. I don't think I would have survived any longer."

He chuckled as he fell on top of you, squishing you in the process. You hummed happily, stroking his back while his cock was still buried deep inside you. You could barely breathe but you didn't care, if this was how you met your end, it seemed like a good way to go.

Taglist;

@metalbuckaroo @princessayveke @montsepliego @scxrletrecsmarvel @hopelesslyrogers @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @tfandtws @vicmc624 @ahahafudge @enchantedbarnes @wickedravyn @pono-pura-vida @amayaraestyles @matchat3a @fictional-hooman @sebastianexplicit @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @jamneuromain @tryingtoliveonmywishes @mrsevans90 @daybreak96 @tiredqueen73 @fallingforunrealisticromance @identity2212 @randomweirdoss @ragamuffin285 @juliaorpll78 @geralts-yenn @imjusthereforliam @bangtanstoeart @squeezyvalkyrie @enchantedbytomandhenry @superduckmilkshake @kingliam2019 @bascmve01 @missgaygurl @foxyjwls007 @mollymal @urmomsgirlfriend1 @luxeydior @peyton-warren

#gummydummy19 #fanfiction #fluff #smut #captain syverson #smutty thoughts #henry cavill #captain sy #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson fic #henry cavill fanfic #captain syverson smut #captain syverson fluff #captain syverson x you #grumpy x sunshine #grumpy bear #grumpy sunshine trope

1K notes · View notes

swannieluv · 7 days

Text

₊⊹ Fogaréu.

✦⸼࣪⸳ Pairing: Arlecchino x GN! Childhood friend Reader

✦⸼࣪⸳ WC: 4k

✦⸼࣪⸳ Warnings: Injuries, child abuse, blood and death.

✦⸼࣪⸳ Insp. by João e Maria - Chico Buarque

✦⸼࣪⸳ A/N: Finally wrote for Arle and I really liked it! I hope you can enjoy reading this and GOOD LUCK ON YOUR PULLS!!!

✦⸼࣪⸳ likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

If there was one thing the Knave knew about herself, it was that she was no saint. One way or another, she had to triumph over those around her to climb the ladder of power and reach the top. She watches over everyone with a sharp but zealous eye, without losing mutual respect for those under her wing.

On nights like this, with the children already in bed, The Knave would be found walking peacefully through the dark corridors, only a small lamp in her hands for company. Every now and then, the ghosts of the past seemed to walk around her in that pit of darkness.

With subtle movements, she gently opened the door to one of the rooms, checking if all children were asleep. It was an unnecessary gesture, since no child - at least not those with a love for their lives - would dare disobey such a simple rule for nothing. It wouldn't be strange to say that she had ironically acquired this maternal habit after becoming Father. Was she getting soft? No. Absolutely not.

Cautiously measuring the force with which she closed the door, preventing any of the children from waking up, Arlecchino stares at the tiny splinters made by the children to measure the height. In it, three familiar names almost washed away by the action of time. Perhaps the door should be replaced soon, in a small renovation planned with the money from a "kind donor".

Her fingers ever so gently touch the splinters. There was nothing much to it, so why... why did her mind start resurrecting the forgotten ones of the past? She finally allowed herself to be carried away by the wave of nostalgia for the first time in many years, since that was the room she had once used.

"..."

'I'm sorry, I didn't know it was your spider :('

The white-haired child stared at the note slipped under the door for a few seconds before folding it up and slipping it into her pocket. At that time, there was no 'Arlecchino' but Peruere.

It would be comical if it weren't tragic that the child on the other side of the door had crushed Peruere's pet spider with full force the other day, though it wasn't necessarily their fault if the animal was running around unnoticed on the floor. She harbored hatred and resentment towards her spider's killer, it’s just not worth the stress. But seeing her pet crushed at someone else's feet was cruel enough.

If it hadn't been for their remorse, the chances of Peruere opening the door would have been zero. So she decided to give just one more chance to her… friend, the troublemaker [Name].

"You killed Lady Belladonna."

Peruere left the room, walking aimlessly. However, her unwanted companion crossed the path all the time. Sometimes they were walking to the right, other times they were in front or diagonally. It was annoying and they stepped on Peruere's shoes all the time, almost knocking them off.

"Ms. Bella- Ah, the spider." [Name] blinked twice before their face burned with shame at the attitude towards the animal. "In my defense... I didn't know that ugly insect- err, I mean, devoid of beauty, was yours."

"Spiders are..."

"Arachnids..."

The light from the lamp had been extinguished long ago, leaving its bearer in complete darkness for who knows how long. Or rather, it returned Arlecchino to the bitter realm of reality. Standing in silence, she navigated for minutes in thoughts that are only allowed after the flames of the fireplace have ceased.

There is no clear distinction between what exactly is acceptable and what is bad, it's all a question of point of view. Many factors differentiate Arlecchino from her predecessor. But in the end, the King's cycle has always repeated itself and always will, no matter who is in control and what their policies are.

During all the years that Arlecchino exercised her role as Father within the House of Hearth, there was never a child who couldn't be "tamed", a challenge that was never overcome.

There has never been a challenge like... [Name], and Arlecchino can only be thankful for that since, without a shadow of a doubt, they had been simply the clumsiest child the House of Hearth has ever received. Stumbling around the corridors with that typical mischievous grin on their face.

Carrying drawing materials, instruments, weapons or anything else they could get their hands on, [Name] ran up and down the corridors looking for something they could make or break.

It wasn't uncommon for those around them to stop what they were doing to observe the way they carried herself around, Peruere included. [Name] was a strange child, but undeniably very charismatic. However, once they had passed, everything returned to its usual monotonous rhythm, because they were so...

"Exaggerated."

The word left her lips unconsciously, slipping out of her thoughts and taking shape. It was a slip of the tongue that surprised even its author, whose face didn't let go of its stoicism for a second.

There wasn't a single action carried out by Arlecchino that didn't carry with it a purpose. From the time they went to bed to the food they ate, everything was done to ensure that the children performed as well as possible. After all, there are no quality sheep without pasture.

Leaving that aside and the inspection completed, she turned back to the traditional home office - of course, she had completely redesigned it after taking over, but it was still classic.

Arlecchino had always been professionally organized. She didn't have a lot of paperwork because she didn't do it, but because she simply did. As a Harbinger, countless responsibilities fell on her shoulders. Just the slightest slip-up would not only jeopardize her, but also those around her.

Accompanied by the typical cherry tea - one of her few preferences - the Harbinger diligently wrote like there was no tomorrow, at a fast and precise pace. Alongside this, the sweet aroma of the tea didn't help to stop the parallel thoughts, sugary like the distant memories tormenting her thoughts today, dancing around her head and bringing to the surface what should remain guarded.

"You don't seem to understand anything about this." The x-shaped pupils reflected in the liquid served as a distraction from the constant boredom, or just a way of distancing herself from her surroundings.

Ah, yes. That's exactly what they used to do, tea parties prepared by children who had no idea how they worked. Brilliant.

"And what's there to understand? We just have to put tea in the cup and drink it then-" The rest of the words were like an incoherent buzz, proof of the vagueness surrounding these memories. "Let me show you. It's just like that-"

Splash.

"..."

Without her noticing, the tea had spilled on her white jacket, staining it a blood red. A pity, as it was such a pretty piece. Leaving that aside, her first action was to check for any burns and take it off to clean.

She would wash it with her bare hands in the laundry room, well away from the bedrooms so as not to interrupt anyone's sleep. Then she left the rings on the table and made her way through the house again, with no light to guide her. It was so chilly when the fire was extinguished. But she was used to it, and certainly so were the other residents.

"Freminet, you know that I can see you. Right?"

"P-Pardon." From the shadows emerged Freminet, face turned downwards as if he were hiding something and his usual shy attitude. He seemed to be desperately wiping away the tears flowing from his eyes; after all, Father didn't like it when children cried.

She turned around, looking away from Freminet. "You shouldn't be awake. Go back to your room and I'll let it slide this time."

"Yes, Father." Freminet fled the scene like a shadow. There was no intention of frightening him, only of warning him.

He was there before she became Father, although he was too young to possibly remember much of the events that led to her ascension. Well, he was a good kid either way.

Arlecchino didn't like tears, they were just a semblance of pain and weakness. She had already seen too much suffering in her life to hate them. They were a reminder of the suffering experienced and something she wouldn't like to see again.

But it didn't mean they couldn't cry by themselves. She only wanted them to be strong enough to defend themselves so not have to go through the horrors of the world, although she knows it's impossible.

"..."

How many times did Peruere wake up in the dead of night, in pain and agony as her curse only intensified? Inside, she wanted to let out an inhuman scream, which is a way of being heard in this fairytale-like hellhole.

The silence around her agitated her further and further, and in a numb state, she couldn't rest. At any moment, it was as if she would be eaten from the inside out by the curse inside her body.

"Hey, hey... Calm down, is everything all right?"

The pain she felt that day was real, but the comfort given to her was more markable. It hurt (and a lot), but no tears would dare to flow from her exhausted eyes, carrying a great deal of fatigue. "You're not going to tell Mother, right?”

“Not if you don't want me to.”

"Then don't.” She didn't want to be taken care of by her, so she was fine as long as the pain didn't kill her. "Although I don't think she'll stay in the dark about it for long."

“But won't Mother be mad if she sees us awake?” They sat on her bed, keeping distance enough to be able to jump quickly to their own in case the door opens.

The leather belt hanging on the side of the old clock was a threat for those who were bold enough to try to break the rules. All children should be in bed during the whole night, no exceptions. But no one could stop [Name] from doing what they wanted.

“If she gets mad, then I'll take the blame for you…”

“Then you're just gonna get hurt!” They left an incredulous whisper. There was no way she would do that, right?

“And won't you?”

“Honestly, I'd rather be beaten than grounded.”

In a way, being hit would be better because it would happen once and then they could heal for the next few days. Since they weren't doing anything too serious, the punishment wouldn't be so bad.

But being grounded was the worst thing that could happen to a child inside the House. Or they would get excruciating tasks during weeks, or have their freedom taken away as if it was nothing. And [Name] certainly didn't like being stuck in a dark room with little light for days.

“I don't think there's a better option between those two…”

"You need more rest, you know that?" Arlecchino could no longer feel the comfort of those hands. But she was sure it was a gentle touch, because she didn't feel repulsed. "I don't understand why you accept to go through all this pain alone..."

"Because only pain breeds understanding—"

Mother's motto, a phrase repeated over and over again as a justification for the punishments handed out. Painfully engraved in children's minds as a survival rule.

"No, no, no, no, no," the hurried voice tried to silence the other. "Shh, shh. It's not like that, stop thinking like that."

"If you want to talk, then talk. If you want to cry, then cry... For the archon, if you even want to kill, then kill! But don't accept things so easily! It's so frustrating!"

Their whispers were angry, but it was clear that the anger was not directed at Peruere. In any case, she felt a little guilty about making someone take care of her.

“I don't believe that's exactly how it works—” she answered, grabbing her arm as it itched from under her skin. The simplest movement of Peruere's fingers was enough to make them snap and the sound echo through the room.

“Can I see your arms? Or is it still hurting a lot?” They wouldn't do anything without Peruere's permission. Even though they hated seeing her like that, they would respect her boundaries just like she respects theirs.

“You can…”

They gently gave her a gentle massage, trying to help that overbearing pain to go away. Peruere tried to think of something she could say to thank her friend without the typical “thank you”. Her lack of expression was a bit frustrating.because she didn't want to come out as ungrateful, but couldn't think of the right thing to say.

“Hm… thank you…” She ended up saying the same overused words, and was about to apologize when she saw the droplets of water drip down their face. How weird, for it was the first time someone had cried for her, and the first time she had been hugged so tightly.

“It's really okay… I just want to see you well.”

"Come on, you know I care about your well being." The embrace that enveloped her was as warm as an ember, and helped her hide the shame on her face. "You're not going to take my advice, are you?”

"No."

"Haha... You're so stubborn." Wiping away their tears, [Name] released Peruere's cheeks.

The scene didn't last long. It was all because they were careless enough not to notice the person standing there in the doorway, watching with a neutral, expressionless face. They were taken by surprise like two rabbits in a trap.

“Peruere, [Name], go to the Hearth room. I wish to see the two by the morning.”

That tricky grin that appeared on the woman's face never failed to confuse Peruere. Mother knows best, so why… Why was Peruere starting to slowly doubt her conduct?

The two could only stare back and low their head in respect — no, fear. Whispering the same thing in unison, they silently made their way to the door.

“Yes, Mother.”

During the daily routine, the Knave set aside a part of the evening to get together with the orphans by the fireplace. A family activity that built their companionship and teamwork for future missions, certainly not an excuse for them to have the playtime they needed while growing up.

She usually sat in the furthest seat, watching them talk in their jovial, relaxed language. These young people today... she was sure that these dialects were not part of the vocabulary used during her youth.

Generation by generation, they would have to fight their way to the top. But now, she hopes that this chain is broken and plans for her method to continue for a good few years after her title passes on.

Lyney. He was the most likely to take over as King, although she still doesn't believe he's fully ready to take on the challenge. He was a kind-hearted child, but he needed to evolve so that he had what it took to abandon childlike ways and embrace a different reality forcefully.

In a way, someone had to suffer so that others could survive. Whether it was selfish for her to be the one to choose that person or not is a matter for another discussion. But just the thought that most of these children could become adults already appeased Arlecchino's heart.

As she closes her eyes and contemplates the sound of the fire crackling and the laughter of those around her, alongside the moonlight, Arlecchino's mind drifts to the past once again.

Just for a second...

“What is it exactly that you want, Peruere?”

"I wish for the same as the others." Everyone is waiting for the moment when they will compete for the position of King, aren't they? After all, that's the goal. "But what about you? What do you want?"

"All I know is that I know nothing. Stupid,. isn't it?"

Click.

The opening of the window completely dispelled those thoughts of Peruere, who was absentmindedly observing everything. Ahead, [Name] took in the cool breeze and the warmth of the sunset rays that touched their face, now clear and fresh in the Knave's mind.

Carelessly, already characteristic of them, [Name] climbed onto the windowsill. "I don't want to be King, or Mother, or Fatui or... anything."

Although the light touched every inch of the room, it was as if Peruere remained in the dark. There, hidden in the shadow cast by [Name], she looked away.

The hand outstretched to her, how could she possibly forget it? The hesitation to grasp it would forever be one of her greatest regrets, as would all the words that went unsaid. Peruere's cold, disconnected manner had often been the best weapon she could use, but also a major flaw.

"I want to be... free."

"..." Without an answer, her gaze only followed [Name]'s raised hand, pointed at the sky - more precisely, two birds hovering there.

"Tell me, Peruere..." the dramatic pause, their eyes still full of tears. Everything contributed to the melancholy of the moment "Will we ever be like them?"

"..."

Freedom. Peruere never had never truly believed in it. There is no such thing as true freedom, never has been and never will be. Does being free mean having autonomy? What nonsense, at the end of the day everyone is tied to their ideologies and beliefs. The two of them were no exception.

[Name] was like a resilient flame that lit up the frigid walls of the House of Hearth, bringing an air of change and perhaps hope wherever she went. On the other hand, Peruere was a... moth, yes, a single moth that belonged in the darkest corners of the night. Their flaw was clearly their ego. From an outside view, not in a million years could [Name] become King. However, something was burning inside those hopeful yet stubborn eyes, an even greater ambition.

Undeniably, Peruere felt slightly confused about them. They were a source of trouble, that was a fact. But then, why was she increasingly tempted to go against the rules with them?

"Don't dream too much. Freedom is too distant a utopia for us." She offered [Name] her hand in return, helping them down from the window.

"But aren't you curious? Maybe... maybe the world isn't as small as in here."

"And if it isn't? Will it make any difference? Either way, we'll still be chained up like the good dogs we are."

"Hm..."

"Look at me." The seriousness in [Name]'s gaze surprised me. There was no longer that silly smile on their face, nor did their voice carry the same casualness, just the seriousness needed.

"If you're going to be King, do it properly."

The metallic smell of blood no longer bothered her - she'd been feeling it long enough to get used to it. And the disgust at being stained with Crucabena's blood was tremendous, and the emptiness of the corridors was a stark reminder of the massacre that had taken place there, since at that moment, only Peruere's deep footsteps could be heard.

Did [Name] manage to get out? Surely those who survived had gone into hiding somewhere, so Peruere made a point of searching every room from top to bottom to make sure that none had been left behind from the first search. There was no longer a Mother to run to, one monster had just devoured another in the great food chain that shapes the structures of the House of Hearth.

The bloody marks on the wall gave Peruere an ominous feeling. But now, the goal was different: to find [Name]. With everything that was going on, she was sure that the other would fulfill the agreement they had made. If [Name] wasn't there, then they had successfully escaped. So Peruere ran from where she was to the fireplace room.

And [Name] did as said. They laid there, leaning against the fireplace as if seeking the comfort of the flames. But what she didn't expect was the large open wound in their chest, which they held in distress at the pain caused.

And of all the memories Arlecchino could have, this was undoubtedly the freshest and most agonizing. It plagued her mind like a broken record, repeating itself over and over and over again.

That was the first time she didn't feel fear, but pure dread. Hidden by the serious face, her heart was restless from the sudden rush of adrenaline until her face paled like paper and her eyes widened as if they were going to pop out, for the person standing there was about to die.

"Y-You... did you... do i-it?"

She nodded in agreement, before kneeling down next to them. Peruere couldn't hide her nervousness, unconsciously biting her lower lip to keep it all in; because [Name] didn't deserve to see Peruere in the state her mind was now in.

"Y-You got really... hurt, h-huh?"

With one hand, they stroked Peruere's cheek. This time she remembered the feeling of the fingers getting colder and colder and the weakness that made them tremble, which was why she removed the other's hand from her face.

"[Name]..."

"I wasn't quick enough... I-I-"

"Shh... spare the words."

Peruere took them in her arms, supporting their head as she tried to calm her down - they were already calm enough, it was Peruere herself who needed it. She already understood that death would tear one more person away from her as the flames warmed them, at least for now.

"T-Talk to me, please. I don't want to die in the silence… A-All this quietness is torturing me…" their voice had already become a desperate whisper while they clutched to Peruere tighter, as if they needed her — and they did.

Peruere wiped the blood dripping from [Name]'s lips, before thinking carefully about what to say. Breathing heavily, she began to sing. "Now it was fatal...That the make-believe would end up like this...

[Name]'s eyes widened one last time, before tearing up. But it wasn't out of sadness, as their smile remained and even grew. What a sight, for someone close to death to be reassured by so little.

"I thought... you didn't... like lullabies...?" They were gently interrupted by a finger over the lips.

"Beyond this yard... It's a never ending night..."

They felt their breathing slowly cease, the hand holding hers loosen, and the tears in their eyes flow. Poor [Name], they wouldn't see the end of the song, because they'd already be on the other side. "Peruere... T-Thanks... for being... my friend..."

"B-Because you disappeared into the world without telling me..." Never had Peruere's voice trembled so much. But she would keep singing, she needed to finish this melody for that one peaceful smile as if their life hadn't been taken so painfully, or she would regret it bitterly for the rest of her life.

"And now I was a foolish one asking..." she wiped away her friend's tears and closed their eyes, which reflected the starlight on the other side of the window. Now they would become just like a bird and know true freedom, while Peruere would remain a moth in the dark, without her flame to guide the way.

"What is life going to do with me…?”

#swanniesarchive <3 #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin platonic #fontaine #genshin x gender neutral reader #angst #arlecchino #arleccino genshin #arlecchino x reader #platonic Arlecchino x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #tw death #tw child abuse #tw blood #tw injury

314 notes · View notes

strangerstilinski · 7 months

Text

𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary; steve takes care of his sick gf

warnings; no use of y/n, (steve refers to reader as ‘girl’ but no mentions of specific anatomy i don't think), multiple descriptions of vomiting, steve being stupidly sweet, casual/non-sexual nudity, sickfic, fluff

word count; ~4k

a/n; i wrote 99% of this while i was sick and exhausted myself, so i'm not insanely happy with it??? but, uh.. fuck it? right? also this is my first time posting something on here that isn't DOB so pls, pls be nice — i beg you.

You had thought it would get better.

You'd thought that sleep would be enough to get rid of the overpowering warmth that had begun to prickle uncomfortably under your skin, the congestion that left your head feeling like it was just a little bit too big, too heavy, for your body. The better part of the last twelve hours have been spent curled up in bed, hoping to sleep it off.

You're not entirely sure what illness is to blame for your current state, but you're cursing each and every possible one as you stumble into the bathroom and fall to your knees in front of the toilet. An immediate ache from the collision against the floor goes ignored, as does the cold that bites at your shins through the glossy tiles.

Now, as your body rolls and tenses with heaves and coughs that have you spilling the remains of your dinner from the night before into clean porcelain, you can't quite believe that you'd dared to be so naively optimistic.

Time passes in that horrible way it always does when you feel poorly, too slow at times and a total blur at others. Your head has been pillowed on your arm at the edge of the toilet for one of those blurred stretches, time fuzzy while you catch your breath. You hear the loud trill of the phone ringing out from down the hallway and your head shoots up at the sudden noise. You intend on hobbling out of the bathroom to answer it, but the too-quick motion of your head snapping to attention has your stomach turning all over again.

The ringing continues as you upend the final contents of your stomach, and the grating noise of the telephone finally dies off only to pick back up again just as your puking turns into nothing more than dry-heaves, body still protesting despite there being nothing left inside of you to give.

When the roiling of your stomach settles slightly, it takes all of your strength to pull yourself to your feet, flushing the toilet and grabbing the bottle of perfumed bathroom spray to mask the lingering smell that's doing absolutely nothing to ease your nausea.

You fumble for a moment as you locate your thermometer, placing the end of the small glass tube under your tongue as you lean onto your elbows over the sink, head dropping weakly as you wait. When you pull the device from your lips a few minutes later, the little red line reads somewhere around a hundred, and you drop it to the back of the counter with a huff.

Your weight continues rest heavily on the edges of the sink as you flick on the tap and proceed to take a few long sips straight from the stream of cold water, rushing to take in grateful gulps. It clears some of the bitterness from your tongue, washing away the rancid taste of bile and stomach acid while settling cooly in your feverish body.

You push back up, weight resting on your palms until you can regard your unusually pallor complexion in the mirror. Your eyes are bleary, a little wet still with tears from your battle with your own body a few minutes before. The sight of just how truly unwell you look has your stomach turning all over again, the cold water in your stomach suddenly feeling as if it's moving in heavy, churning waves inside of you, as if it's fighting to break free.

You barely make it back to the toilet before you're retching and dumping back out all of the water that you'd forced into your body perhaps a bit too quickly.

You're so exhausted by the time your stomach settles once more, you don't manage more than flushing the toilet and misting the air with another quick spritz of freshener before you've slumped against the wall and begun to doze.

When your boyfriend eventually comes knocking at your front door, the sound isn't enough to rouse you, not even when the noise grows a little more frantic from anxiety, palms slamming against the surface paired with muffled shouts of concern through the thick wood.

You remain entirely unaware as an increasingly worried Steve Harrington begins searching for your spare key with muffled curses. He nearly upends the potted plant you have outside your door, kicking your doormat across the hallway in his haste to unlock your door and shove his way into your apartment. Steve stumbles through several rooms before he finds you in the bathroom and his steps falter at the sight that awaits him.

You look so pathetic it's startling; curled in on yourself in a way that makes you appear smaller, weak and innocent, younger even. Your head is tipped against the wall, lolled to the side until your nose and chin are nearly touching your shoulder. He knows it has to be wreaking havoc on the muscles in your neck, and he nearly winces at the thought, pushing further into the room and squatting down in front of you. Steve's hand finds your cheek, supporting some of the weight of your head to straighten your spine just a touch as he assesses the sickly pallor your skin has taken.

“Oh, honey.” Steve says softly, thumb stroking from your jaw to the apple of your cheek and back down again.

The soft touch is enough to finally wake you and he watches your eyes blink heavily, feverish confusion pulling your brows together as you struggle to focus on the face in front of you. You pout at him and the sight of your lip jutting out is so cute that Steve fails to notice your arm rising weakly from where it was blocked by the toilet. Not until it's too late.

A honeysuckle scented mist sprays in his direction, forcing him to flinch back in surprise as the perfume invades his nostrils.

“Jesus!” Steve exclaims in surprise, hacking slightly at the taste of it on his tongue, “Baby, what the hell?”

Your nose scrunches up as both your arm and the spray bottle fall heavily into your lap. You blink at him slow, “Smells like vom in here.” You explain meekly.

“It smells fine.” He tries to reassure you, pulling the de-odorizer from your weak grip and setting it on the countertop behind himself and effectively out of your reach.

“Wha're you doing 'ere?” You question in a rasp, shaky hand grabbing ahold of his wrist as if trying to prove to yourself that he's real and not some fever-induced hallucination.

“You weren't pickin' up my calls,” He tells you softly, thumb beginning to move across the heated skin of your cheek again, “I knew you were plannin' on staying in to get some cleaning done. When you didn't answer my mind kinda ran wild. Thought you might've slipped and fallen and cracked your head off the kitchen counter or somethin'. I dunno, I just.. I got worried, sweetheart. Came to check in for my own peace of mind,” His gaze trails the length of your body, taking in your wrinkled tshirt, your bare feet, your clammy skin, the puffiness around your eyes, “I'm glad I did.”

“‘'m sorry I didn't pick up the phone,” You apologize quietly, your gaze drifting to the toilet for a moment before slowly meeting his again, “Was busy puking my guts out.”

The way your lip pulls up at the corner from your own dry humor has Steve cracking a smile, his voice fond when it sounds again.

“I see that,” He says with a sigh, “How long you been sick?”

You try to shrug but your shoulders barely move, your body too weak to manage more than a small twitch of your muscles, “Started feeling shitty last night before bed. Slept a lot. Got sick when I woke up this afternoon.” As if suddenly realizing the lack of brightness coming in through the bathroom window, your raspy voice comes again, “Time s'it?”

“Five-ish,” Steve tells you with a frown, pretty brown eyes flicking over your face, “You haven't eaten anything?”

You give him a small shake of your head, his large hand supporting most of the weight of your skull as you do so, “M'sick.”

He sighs, “You still gotta eat, honey. Have to get something in your stomach if you're gonna get your strength back.”

You shake your head again, sad eyes meeting his, “I'll just throw it up. Don't want to get sick again.”

Steve smiles at you pityingly, a sad thing, “We'll try something real small to start, how's that?”

“How small?” You ask nervously.

“Some soup?”

You shake your head.

“Just broth and some crackers?” He bargains.

Your stomach rolls at the mere thought and it must show on your face because he sighs heavily.

“Dry toast?” He tries.

Your eyebrows pull together, but the thought doesn't immediately make you queasy, so you give him an indecisive shrug.

“Let’s try some toast, yeah, honey?” Steve says softly.

His fingers gently brush your hair back from your face and your mind whirls in realization.

“Oh god,” You bemoan weakly, “'s there puke in my hair?”

“No,” He says a little to quickly, “No, baby, there's nothing in your hair.”

You give him a look to say that you don't believe him for a single second, but he's looking at you so fondly that your expression melts away into something soft almost immediately.

“You want me to tie your hair back?” Steve asks, already turning around to peek at the bathroom countertop where there's a mess of hair ties and clips littering the surface.

“The big one.” You tell him, nodding vaguely in the direction of your favorite scrunchie.

He turns back around with the puffy material pinched between his fingers, already combing your hair back and collecting it in a bundle with gentle hands. The sensation of air meeting the clammy nape of your neck feels so good that you let out a small noise of relief, leaning forward to give him more room while he tries to smooth out the lumps in your hair with his fingers.

Once he's managed a messy ponytail, his wide palms rest on the sides of your neck, thumbs ghosting along your jawline as he frowns at the feverish sweat on your brow.

“You taken your temperature at all?” He questions in concern, his fingers meeting your forehead and somehow managing to feel blessedly cool against your overheated skin, “You feel like you're burnin' up, sweetheart.”

“Hundred or so.” You tell him, eyes falling shut as you lean into the feeling of his hand against your sweaty skin.

Steve hums, an unhappy sound, “That's not too bad. Not good by any means, but it's nothin' to be too worried about, huh?” He sounds like he's trying to reassure himself more than you, so you merely nod against his hand. He sighs after a moment, “Right. C'mon. Up we go.” He urges softly, arm curling around your back with one hand gripping at your hip as he pulls you to your feet.

You're not sure how he manages it so effortlessly, the only hint of his strain is the soft grunt he lets out when you collapse against his chest and knock a little bit of the wind from him. You bury your nose into the dip of his clavicle, the strip of skin and scarce chest hair poking out from beneath the collar of his stretched shirt is soft to the touch and masculine smelling and overall a little dizzying — although, the way you sway against him has you wondering if maybe that's just the fever.

“Toast.” Steve reminds you softly, hand slipping beneath your baggy sleep shirt — one that had been his shirt, once upon a time — to run his thumb over the soft, overheated skin at your hip.

You grumble something that's not quite disapproval or approval, a weak sounding thing to protest the thought of moving from your current position, but with an endeared sigh and a soft press of his lips to your sweaty temple, Steve's manhandling you into a better position. Your feet end up over the tops of his, your arms curled up underneath his own to grip weakly onto the backs of his shoulders. He holds you steady with one hand at the center of your spine and the other spread over your backside in likely the least sexual touch he's ever graced to that area of your body.

You manage a weak murmur about him copping a feel and he laughs. It falls over your ear in a breathy little chuckle as Steve carefully waddles the two of you down the hall. His arms continue to hold you tight to his chest while walks you back around the corner leading into your small kitchen, flicking the overhead light on as he goes.

“Hows'it you're mouthy even when you're on your deathbed?” He asks, a small grin on his face as he gently gets you settled up onto one of the kitchen stools where you can rest while he makes you food.

You collapse onto your elbows against the countertop as soon as he releases you, cheek resting heavy in your palm as you peer up at him.

“Dunno..” You tell him quietly, eyes flicking over Steve's face slow in a way that you didn't quite manage in the dim light of the bathroom.

His hair looks a little fluffier than normal, soft and messy in a way that makes you want to run your hands through it, tug soft on the strand that dips down over his forehead and curls toward his eye in that effortlessly beautiful kind of way. Caramel swirls prettily with the darker shades of brown and gold in his eyes, pink lips pulled into a barely-there grin when he turns back toward you after grabbing a half eaten loaf of bread from the cupboard.

You're watching him with a dazed sort of admiration, “How s'it you look so pretty even when I'm on my deathbed?” You counter dreamily, arms crossing against the cool countertop so that you can rest your temple over the tops of them when your head suddenly starts to feel a little too heavy, vision swaying.

Steve laughs softly as he gets two slices of bread into the toaster, “I'm not sure there's a correlation between my good-looks and your health,” The sound of his amusement fades out when he looks back at you and finds your new position, “Oh, Honey..” He says simply, the words pitying.

“'m dizzy.” You tell him with closed eyes. The darkness behind your eyelids doing nothing to slow the spinning in your brain.

“Well I'm sure that not eating all day is at least partially to blame for that,” Steve says softly, “Your body can't fight the virus if you don't give it any fuel.”

You pout petulantly, knowing he's probably right, “You're annoying when you're smart.”

The swirling blackness behind your closed eyes slows, your breathing following suit as you relax against the counter.

“C'mon, sit up, sweetheart.”

The sound of his voice startles you and the quiet clink of a ceramic plate being set down on the counter beside your head has you deducing that you might have fallen asleep for a few moments. You make a small noise of surprise as your gaze moves to the food on the plate, plain dry toast. Steve has sliced it into cute, neat little triangles for you and your heart melts a little at the gesture.

Hands on your arms guide you gently into an upright position as Steve crowds up against your side, letting you rest your weight into the wall of his chest when your head swims a little from the movement. You grab a slice of lightly toasted bread from the plate in front of you and bring it to your lips, nibbling slow at the corner with your eyes closed, trying to focus on the way you rise and fall with Steve's breaths where you're resting against him — the expansion of his lungs beneath his ribs rocking you in a slow, steady movement while you attempt to force down comically tiny bites.

Steve drags his palm along the length of your spine, drawing a smooth path up and down as you eat.

“Doin' good, babe,” He praises softly, his free hand falling to rest lightly on your stomach where he begins to trace tiny circles over your shirt, “You don't have to eat it all. Just need to get a little something in your stomach.”

You hum around your sliver of toast, crumbs raining down on both of your chests and clinging to the fabric of your shirts as you chew. It takes a stupidly long time, but you manage to finish a single triangle of bread, and Steve continues with his soothing touches all the while.

He feels you grip the hem of his shirt in your fist, your sweaty face turning into his chest with an unintelligible murmur, and he brings his hand on your back up to rest between your shoulder blades.

“You done for now?” Steve asks gently, fingers rubbing softly into the tense muscles beneath your neck as you nod, “Probably haven't had anything to drink either, huh?”

You shake your head and a frown pulls at your lips when he takes a small step away from you, “Wha'-?”

“Gonna grab you a glass of water, alright? Then we can take a bath. Get you all clean and relaxed.”

He's already stepping away before you can protest, though the phantom sensation of the water that had re-emerged from your mouth an hour or so earlier has you frowning anxiously.

Unaware of your silent distress, Steve grabs a glass and turns on the tap, the loud rush of the water hitting the sink basin filling the room while he sticks his hand under the flow. He stands like that for a few moments, fiddling with the temperature a couple of times before he fills the cup. He returns to you only moments later, settling the glass into your palms with more gentleness than you think you've ever experienced.

As both of your trembling hands lift the water to your lips, you take a small sip, frowning and lowering the glass only a moment later.

“It's warm.” You complain weakly, face scrunching up in disgust as you meet his eyes.

Steve nods and his hand urges your own to bring the glass back to your lips, “Cold water will shock your stomach,” He tells you softly, “Gotta be warm if you don't wanna get sick. My strong girl just ate half a piece of toast, you don't want to immediately throw it back up, do ya?”

“No.” You murmur around the lip of the glass, taking another careful sip.

“No,” Steve agrees, wide palm coming up to brush a few loose wisps of hair back from your forehead, “Doing good, honey, real good. Just a few more sips and we'll get you in the bath.”

You frown at the reminder, clutching your cup to your chest with both hands, “Oh god,” You whisper in horror, “I smell.. I smell really bad, don't I?”

“You don't smell,” Steve promises with a soft smile, though it's not entirely convincing, “A bath'll help your head, though. You said you were dizzy, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You agree quietly, “Feels, like, swollen. Like my head's gonna explode.. But also 's spinny.”

“The steam will help,” He promises, “And you'll feel better when you're fresh and clean, y'know?”

You sigh around another sip of the warm water, a reluctant nod against the hand resting over your forehead. He urges you to drink a little more before he's dragging you back toward your bathroom.

You're forced to sit on the closed lid of the toilet, watching with tired eyes as Steve flits in and out of the room — adjusting the flow of the water in the bathtub and digging through your basket of bath salts and filling a bowl from the sink tap for reasons you can't imagine but don't bother to question aloud.

Instead, you wait. The loud rush of water filling the tub lulls you into a sort of trance until your eyes are slipping shut, head swaying heavily on your shoulders. The steam filling the room smells nice, lavender salts and oils having been added to the bath at some point, and the smell has you beginning to relax.

“Not fallin' asleep on me already, are you?”

You blink slow, heavy eyelids fluttering as you open your eyes to find Steve standing in front of you, already stripped down to his boxers. He steps between your legs to pull your shirt up over your head and you're down to only your underwear with just that one quick move. When he pulls you up, gentle hands cupping your elbows in case you sway on your feet, you lean into his bare chest with a contented sigh.

“This is nice.” You murmur, rubbing your cheek against the soft hairs littering his chest.

“This isn't even the relaxing part, honey,” Steve chuckles softly, his hands falling to your hips to rid you of your final article of clothing, “Come on. In you go.”

He helps you step over the lip of the tub, one hand in yours and the other on your waist to steady you. The water is hot and silky against your skin, a gasp on your lips when it first licks at your calves. It sends blissful shivers down your spine as you settle down into it, your eyes falling shut with a contented groan as you curl your arms around your knees and bow your head to rest over them.

You're only alone for a moment before Steve is settling in behind you, his long legs caging you in as they stretch the length of the tub. The water flowing from the tap cuts off and the room is thrust into startling silence, the thundering sound of the bathtub filling being replaced with the quiet sloshing of the water as Steve adjusts himself beside you.

You gasp in surprise when a warm stream of water falls over your shoulder and you crack your eyes open to watch as Steve cups his hands again, bringing the water to the back of your neck and releasing it in a warm rush down your spine. You hum in approval and he repeats the action a few times, dropping handfuls of water over your back as the steam works to lessen the pressure in your head.

A few minutes pass before Steve's maneuvering you around with big hands at your ribs, your thighs splaying wide over either side of his knees as he settles back against the end of the tub. Water sloshes around you with all the movement, licking high on your skin until you rest chest to chest, your face tucking into the damp curve of his neck.

“You alright like this?” Steve checks, his voice unbearably soft as the words fan out over cheek, “You comfortable?”

You hum happily, eyes closed, “So comfy, Stevie.”

He brings a big, bath-warmed palm up to rest on your shoulder, wet fingers trailing along your skin and leaving tiny oil-sheened drops of water behind that bead down the length of your arm and back as they fall.

Just as your mind starts to slip into that space between wakefulness and sleep, a startlingly cold cloth is pressed to your forehead. The chill has you reeling back slightly, a betrayed sort of frown on your face as you peer at your boyfriend who's holding a damp washcloth in his hand.

“To help bring down your fever,” Steve supplies in response to your silent question, “Sorry. I should've warned you.”

You settle back against his chest with a small huff, hand curling around his wrist as a way of telling him it was okay to try again. The cold doesn't shock you nearly as much the second time around, taking only a moment to warm into a comfortable coolness against your skin.

A deep breath fills your lungs with the sweet smell of lavender combined with the lingering musk of Steve's cologne. Your fingers trail over damp skin until you can settle your palm against his pec, blunt nails tracing slow patterns on his skin through the short damp hairs.

“Thank you,” You whisper over his chest, your breath causing his nipple to pebble up against the steam-thickened air, “So good to me, Steve. 'm so glad I have you.”

The wet cloth against your forehead disappears only to return a moment later, cool again from having been dipped back into the bowl of cold water Steve had placed beside the tub. Your breath stutters a bit at the chill, body tensing and relaxing back against him only a second later.

“How many times have you been the one taking care of me, huh?” Steve asks, fingers dragging up and down along the skin at the outside of your thigh in a soothing touch, “And I'd say you're in much better condition now than I was at least a few of those times.”

“'s different,” You argue quietly, “You were hurt. You're always getting hurt.”

“And you're always there to take care of me,” Steve agrees, “So I'm gonna take care of you. 'cause we got each other's backs, don't we, honey?”

His voice is smooth like silk to your ears, his big hand still trailing softly along your skin. His fingers find their way to your shoulder, the gentle drag of his knuckles skating along your jaw, the apple of your cheek, the length your brow bone, tiny streaks of moisture left behind in his wake.

“Yeah,” You murmur against his skin, tipping your head to place a small kiss to the corner of your boyfriend's jaw, “We do.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington sickfic #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #stranger things

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wlntrsldler · 4 months

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song challenge with Jamie tartt ! The just friends one please ☺️❤️

just friends | jamie tartt

based on just friends by virginia to vegas

description: you meet jamie tartt at a gala and he can't help but fall for you.

warnings: language-- it's ted lasso, what did you expect? angst! miscommunication! drinking! making out!

length: 4K words

ted lasso requests are open | main masterlist

When your uncle Trent invited you to a "work party," you expected maybe a private room in a restaurant in Tooting, or at most, a cocktail hour on a boat with snooty, businessmen. You did not expect a full-on red carpet gala with paparazzi, and famous footballers, and well, you got the snooty businessmen part right at least.

You knew your uncle had worked with AFC Richmond in the past. You weren't completely out of the loop. You read the book he wrote-- which was marvelous-- and watched a few of the games last season, but you didn't think he stayed in touch with the Richmond crew. Especially not to the point where he's still invited to their annual charity gala with a plus one.

Because of your lack of preparation, you felt severely underprepared for the event. You stood beside the open bar while your uncle walked around and mingled. You made the excuse that you needed some liquid courage to loosen up before you started chatting with folks who could buy half of England if they wanted to.

"Y/N?" You turned around to find a woman dressed in a gorgeous, sparkly dress, smiling at you. She outstretched her hand, which you gladly accepted. "I'm Keeley. Trent has told me so much about you."

"Keeley Jones!" You exclaimed, a smile overtaking your features. "So nice to meet you."

"Likewise," she beamed, "What ya doin' all the way over here? Come on, have you met the boys yet?"

You didn't have a chance to say no before she was pulling you towards a crowd of men dressed to the nines. You saw your uncle talking to one of them and he shot you a comforting smile as you approached.

"Lads, this is Y/N! Trent's niece."

"Nice to meet you, Y/N!" The boy beside your uncle called out, raising his beer bottle in a hello, "Name's Colin."

Then, the one next to you turned his body to introduce himself, "Hello, my name is Sam. It's a pleasure to meet you."

This caused a domino effect where all the men began introducing themselves to you. It was overwhelming, in a good way, but you knew that you would not be able to remember all of their names.

Finally, there were two boys left to introduce themselves. One had a glass of champagne in his hand, grinning brightly as he waited for his turn to speak. The other was wearing sunglasses indoors--prick-- and looked like he would rather be anywhere else but here.

"Hello, Y/N. My name is Jan Maas." The happier of the two grinned at you. "Trent did not tell us you were this pretty."

"Oi, bruv," Isaac, who you learned was the captain of the team, smacked Jan Maas on his arm, "You don't have to say everything that pops into your head all the time."

You blushed, laughing at the two men bickering. "No worries, I appreciate the compliment, Jan Maas."

The circle was hushed as they waited for the last man to speak up. When it became evident that he was not gonna say anything-- again, prick-- Roy spoke up. "And that's Jamie."

Ah. It made sense now. Jamie Tartt. You heard a lot about him from your uncle and from the sports blogs you read last season when you were trying to get caught up on all things AFC Richmond. You knew Jamie Tartt was the real deal. It suddenly wasn't so surprising that he felt like he was too good to engage in conversation with you.

But you would be a liar if you said that you didn't find him attractive. If he put in the effort to be decent, then you'd definitely be crushing on him already. He looked good. His jacket was discarded somewhere. He had the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows with a gold chain peeking out from under the collar. You had to give credit where credit is due.

You awkwardly moved on from the situation and mingled with the boys. You met Rebecca, Coach Beard, and Nate later in the night. As the gala progressed, your ability to function properly in society deteriorated with every free drink from the open bar. Before you knew it, Keeley was hanging off your arm, giggling over a stupid joke that Richard made.

Wiping your tears of laughter from your eyes, you untangled yourself from Keeley, "Okay, I'm gonna go get us some water."

You walked to the bar area, careful not to trip over your own feet. You sighed a breath of relief when you made it to the counter in one piece, "Two waters, please."

You looked to your left and couldn't help but scoff when you saw Jamie beside you. You rolled your eyes, "Prick."

He furrowed his eyebrows, "Are you talking to me?"

It was definitely the alcohol talking. And boy, was it running its mouth. "Yeah, you're bein' a prick."

"I haven't done anythin' to ya," he complained, taking a sip of his water. "What are you callin' me a prick for?"

"Where do I start?" He motioned for you to continue so you did. "First of all, who the hell wears sunnies indoors? There isn't sun in here! And it's nighttime, you don't even need it outside! Oh! And we're in bloody England, when do we ever get sunlight? Sunnies are useless."

He opened his mouth to respond, but you beat him to it, "Second, you didn't have the courtesy to introduce yourself to me. Made Roy do it. Like I get it, you're Mr. Jamie Fucking Tartt. Star Player of AFC Richmond and Golden Boy of the Champions League and gorgeous with amazing hair and I'm just Trent's niece. But would it hurt ya to say hello?"

"Sorry," he mumbled, taken aback by your bluntness. Drunk you could give Jan Maas a run for his money. He couldn't focus on anything else besides the fact that you called him gorgeous.

"'m not done," you continued, taking a deep breath. Ranting about Jamie made you lose your breath, "Lastly, you've been avoiding your teammates, your friends! I literally saw Dani frown! I didn't even think that was possible. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Jamie was stuck staring at you. He hoped you were too drunk to notice the blush on his cheeks. You were wrong about one thing, the sunnies were useful. If he didn't have them on, he was sure you'd notice the way his eyes have been heart-shaped since you first introduced yourself to the group.

He wasn't sure when he stopped being able to talk to pretty girls, but when he saw you approach with Keeley, his knees buckled and suddenly he forgot his own name. He didn't mean to be rude earlier. He wanted to introduce himself but he physically couldn't. By the time he remembered who he was, it was too awkward.

He's spent the rest of the night anxiously replaying the interaction in his head. If he had a sip of liquor, he would, no doubt, yak all over the dance floor so he stayed on the outskirts of the party, dead sober.

Before he could properly apologize for the terrible first impression, you'd already retrieved the two glasses of water from the bartender and began walking toward Keeley.

The day after, Jamie texted Keeley for your number. At first, he tried to play it off as just wanting to apologize to you for being rude the night before, but Keeley could read him like the back of her hand.

She smirked and sent your number over to Jamie.

That's how you found yourself nursing a hangover, cursing whoever texted your phone because it dinged so loud that your headache increased tenfold. When you checked your phone and saw an unknown number, you didn't think much of it at first. You knew you exchanged numbers with a few people last night so it wasn't out of the ordinary to get random texts. But when you saw the follow-up texts, you quickly sobered up.

From: Unknown

"Hi, Y/N. Got your number from Keeley."

From: Unknown

"Just wanted to say sorry for bein a prick yesterday. Promise, I'm not like that."

From: Unknown

"This is Jamie, btw."

From: Unknown

"Jamie Tartt"

From: Unknown

"From Richmond"

You laughed at his texts. Did he seriously think you wouldn't be able to deduce that it was him? You didn't know many Jamies. In fact, he's the only Jamie you knew. Plus, the prick thing gave it away.

To: Jamie Tartt From Richmond

"Figured it was you, Jamie. But thanks for the clarification. - Y/N Y/L/N, Trent Crimm's niece."

That was the start of your friendship with Jamie.

"Jamie fucking Tartt!" Your voice boomed throughout the locker room, easily drowning out the hum of conversations that the boys were having. "You're dead!"

A chorus of "oooohs" rang across the room with all the boys patiently waiting to see what Jamie did this time. You and Jamie have been engaged in a month-long prank war. How Jamie managed to be a professional footballer (who is leading the team in goals and plays a large part in the team's 5 game-winning streak) and still have time to meticulously plan pranks was beyond your understanding.

Jamie was halfway done with getting dressed when you walked in. His shirt was still folded neatly in his cubby when he turned around to greet you with a smirk, "Hey, love. Are you wrapped up?"

You couldn't help but let your eyes roam down his chest and his torso. On your scan back up, your eyes stopped at his arms. God, his arms. For the most part, you were able to control your attraction for Jamie, but sometimes, the universe tested you. This was one of those moments.

Jamie bit his lip when he realized you were checking him out. He cleared his throat, breaking you from your trance, "So, you wrapped up and ready to go?"

You remembered why you were pissed at him. "You wrapped my entire car in plastic wrap! How the hell am I going to get home?"

At your explanation, the team chuckled at Jamie's latest prank. You turned around to shoot daggers at all of them. The laughter stopped.

"Someone wrapped your car in plastic wrap?" He faked a shocked face, "That's horrible."

Two can play that game.

"Is that why you invited me to watch training today?" You gasped, acting like your feelings were hurt. You pretended to cry, sniffling as you lowered your head, "Thought you wanted to see me. Whole time you just wanted to prank me."

Jamie's eyes widened. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards his chest as he began to mumble a million apologies, "No, no, Y/N. I did want to see you, promise! I just thought that it would also be fun to pull a prank, but you know I wanted to see you. Always want to see you, love. Please don't cry."

For a while, you forgot you were playing a bit. All you could focus on was that your head was laying on Jamie Tartt's bare chest while his arms were wrapped around you. He was kissing the top of your head and apologizing to you for a stupid prank.

You'd been in these situations before. After a few months of being friends with Jamie, you found that he was extremely touchy and clingy, which you did not expect from him. When he'd come over to hang out and watch movies, he'd end up with his head on your lap while you played with his hair. After games where Richmond won, you'd meet him in the car park when everyone's gone home where he'd run to you, hug you, then spin you around while you giggled and told him to put you down.

But this time was different. You were in front of people who were staring at you. Their hushed whispers, traces of smiles in their voice, brought you back to reality. You pulled away from him, red-cheeked, and stuttering. You saw Bumbercatch from the corner of your eye, sending you a wink.

"Jam," you said, "I'm just kidding. I'm not really upset."

"Oi," he frowned, finally putting a shirt on. "That's not nice. I thought I actually made you upset."

"Well, I am upset because you wrapped my car in plastic wrap." You reminded him. The room started to clear out, the boys bidding you a goodbye as they exited. You waited for Jamie to get his things together before walking out with him. "Can we call it a truce on the pranking?"

"You givin' up?" he raised his eyebrows, "Didn't peg you as a quitter."

"Not giving up," you shoved him lightly, "Just don't want to hurt your feelings again. Seriously, Jamie, you nearly cried and got on your knees when you thought I was upset! Embarrassing for you."

He was about to argue when he saw your teasing smile. He shook his head, blushing. It was embarrassing, really. It was so embarrassing how he was so gone for you. The idea of making you feel bad, even on accident, killed Jamie. He never wants you to be upset.

There was something magnetic about you. No matter how hard he tried-- and he did try-- to stay away from you, or at the very least ignore his romantic feelings towards you, the stronger your pull was. Jamie can't remember the last time he woke up without thinking of you or the last time he went to bed without the thought of you in his dreams.

Ever since the night of the gala, Jamie only fell harder for you. At first, it started out with just finding you attractive. Jan Maas was right, Trent did not mention just how beautiful you were. Even if Trent did try to explain it, Jamie didn't think the English language could do your beauty any justice. As he got to know you, your goofiness, kindness, and gigantic heart, he knew he was a goner.

With you, he could act like a stupid little kid. He can have fun with you, laugh at everything, and do nothing but sit on your couch eating junk food. But he can also be vulnerable with you. He hasn't mentioned all of his past to you, half afraid that you'd run away once you get a deeper look into who he is and what he's gone through, and half nervous that once he lets you in completely, he'll never recover if you ever break his heart.

He wasn't ready to lose you. Not yet. Not ever.

"Let me help you get your car untangled," he offered, opening the door to leave the facility. "Least I can do."

"How the hell did you do this while you were at training? I literally watched you the entire time and you were on the pitch."

"You were watching me?" he asked, looking at you with a glimmer in his eye.

You scrunched your nose, feeling caught. You had a joke ready as a response but it never made its way past your throat. You looked at him, a small smile on your face. You leaned over and placed a hand on his bicep, "Always am."

Jamie gulped, the feeling of your touch making his brain short-circuit. He felt his heart beating out of his chest. He really was pathetic. He backed away from your touch before he could do something he would later regret, "I paid Kenneth to do it while we were trainin'."

Your jaw hung low, a look of disbelief now on your face. Jamie, knowing you too well, sensed that you were about to tackle him and ran away from you. You chased him around the empty car park, with your plastic-wrapped car and his obnoxious sports car as the only inhabitants, while yelling, "I'm going to get you back so good!"

This, you thought, this is a life you could get used to.

You shouldn’t have gotten used to it.

You didn’t know how things changed so quickly. One minute, you were leaning your drunk self on Jamie as you sang a horrible rendition of “When He Sees Me” from The Waitress, the next, he was ignoring your calls and avoiding every event where you’d be in attendance.

It’s been a week since you last heard from Jamie and you were tired of it. You marched on the pitch, ignoring Roy’s complaints. The boys halted their movements, glancing at each other with worried looks, before staring directly at Jamie.

“Stop being a fucking prick!” You exclaimed. He huffed, continuing to ignore you. He continued the drills he was doing before you showed up, though none of his teammates joined him. “Tartt!”

He rolled his eyes, finally stopping to look at you, “What?”

“Oi! Tartt, Y/L/N, can you settle your lover’s quarrel in the tunnel? We have trainin’!” Roy yelled.

“Start walking, Tartt,” You weren’t going to let him off the hook that easily. You walked behind him as he made his way to the tunnel behind the coaches. You were really glad today was a closed practice.

By the time you made it to the tunnel, your initial anger had subsided. You just felt bad. Why did he stop talking to you? Was it something you did? You knew that he was avoiding you given how he just reacted on the pitch. What you didn’t understand was why.

“What do you want, Y/N?” There was venom in his tone.

You blinked, not used to that tone from Jamie. “Why’re you bein’ such a prick all of a sudden? What have I done?”

“Seriously?” he let out a humorless laugh.

Now it was your turn, “What are you on about? You’re the one who’s been avoiding me and I don’t even know why!”

“Don’t turn this on me.” He ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up just enough for a few loose stands to fall in front of his face. It took all the strength in the world not to reach over to fix it for him. “You’re the one being cruel and mean. That little prank you pulled.”

“Jamie, what prank?” you took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers, “I have no idea what happened! Please do enlighten me!”

“No, I’m not going to recount the most embarrassing moment of my life for your enjoyment.”

“Enjoyment?!” You yelled, more confused than ever. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Right,” he shook his head, looking at you. Tears were pooling in his eyes. He bit his bottom lip before continuing, “You don’t remember being in the back seat of the Uber after karaoke where you were playing with my feelings.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh, come off it, Y/N,” he sighed. He shut his eyes, blinking away his tears. “You know how I feel about you. Everyone does at this point! Like, I’m so pathetic when it comes to ya. So when you look at me with that look in your eye like you might actually feel the same way as I do and tell me that you want to kiss me, just to remind me that we shouldn’t because we’re just friends, you’re just being plain cruel. It’s mean, Y/N.”

You were speechless, which Jamie mistook as another rejection. He continued to ramble on. “I’ve been so in love with you since I met you. I’ve never met anyone like you, never felt this way with anyone. And I haven’t really been discreet about it, either. Even fucking Beard have said somethin’ about how I look at ya. The lads haven’t stopped teasin’ me about you since you showed up in my kit at our first home game.”

“Jam,” you began, out of breath like the wind was just knocked right out of you. “I don’t remember this happening in the car.”

Jamie finally looked at you, as if the mist of anger dissipated from his vision. He looked at you intently. Your bottom lip was quivering and your eyes were trying to desperately make sense of the situation.

“Oh, fuck,” he gulped. He scratched the back of his neck with his left hand, rocking on the balls of his feet. “You really don’t remember, huh?”

You shook your head, “No, I don’t. I blacked out after I sang that last song.”

“Now, I feel awkward.”

“Yeah, you should,” you chuckled. You walked closer to him, reaching out to fix his hair. You felt him stop breathing for a second. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them back up to see you so close to him. So close. You cradled his face in the palm of your hand, letting your thumb run across his cheekbone. “You love me?”

The tips of his ears turned pink, “Yeah, I do.”

“Hmmm,” you hummed, inching closer to him. “For the record, I probably did want to kiss you then even though I can’t remember it now because I always want to kiss you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” It was your turn to stop breathing. Jamie placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Also probably only said we shouldn’t because I was too scared to lose you, but I don’t want to be just your friend, Jam.”

“Don’t wanna be just your friend either.”

“Well, we should probabl-”

“For fuck’s sake,” The two of you jumped apart at Roy’s voice from the pitch. “Just fucking make out already!”

You both looked at the pitch to see the entire team, coaches and Will included, staring at the both of you in anticipation. Jamie laced your fingers together and led you inside the facility, the sound of groans and boo’s from the team echoing through the tunnel. You laughed heartily at their reaction. As he was leading you to the boot room, Jamie looked over his shoulder and sent you a shy smile.

He opened the door and turned the lights on with his free hand, never once letting go of yours. Before you could say a thing, Jamie pressed you up against the wall and kissed you like his life depended on it. You sighed into the kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair, and gave it a soft tug. He grunted in approval, slipping his tongue swiftly into your mouth. As things started to get heated, you felt him smile against your lips, causing you to pull back.

After you’ve separated, he pressed a soft kiss on your lips, looking as content as ever. He gave you one last peck before giving some space between both of your bodies, “So does that mean that you fancy me too?”

“Jamie, come on,” you pressed your head on his shoulder, unable to stop the blush from your cheeks from spreading, “You know I love you, too.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured with how you kissed me.”

“Hey!” you protested, glaring at him playfully.

He laughed, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. His hands found your waist again. He was drawing shapes with his thumb on the small piece of exposed skin on your stomach. “I love you.”

“So what does this make us?”

“Well, you’re my girlfriend now.”

You pushed him away a bit, raising one eyebrow, “I don’t recall being asked to be your girlfriend.”

“Fine,” he conceded, “I’ll ask, but it’s going to be so over the top and so ridiculous that you’ll regret that you had me ask.”

You giggled, pulling him closer again, “Don’t think I’ll ever regret that, Jam.”

He placed his lips on you again, slowly and passionately. When he pulled away, he had a serious look on his face. “You may not be my girlfriend yet, but I am 100% your boyfriend. I am taken. I’ve already been taken for a while, but it’s official now.”

You grabbed his face in your hands, placing a kiss on his nose, “Of course, boyfriend.”

#ted lasso #ted lasso fics #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt x yn #afc richmond #frances song fics #frances writes #jamie tartt oneshot

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daydreams-after-dark · 15 days

Text

Back in Ten, baby

Pairing: CEO dom!leaning Jisung x sub!leaning fem reader // established relationship

Scenario: Han instructs you to wear a strap-on and peg him in the hotel after his important business function.

Word Count: 4K approx

MDNI // SMUT - LOTS OF SMUT Content warnings below the cut

CW: oral sex (both rec), pegging - anal sex with strap on dildo (m rec), collar leash, name calling (slut, cockslut, baby, angel), praise, choking, cum eating, squirting, aftercare, an obsession with Jisung’s ass, feeling up in a semi public place (kind of, but not really), indecency in front of a hotel window

A/N: Just a word of warning. I was unhinged when I wrote this. If you are not into anal play, this isn’t for you because Jisung loves his ass to be played with and y/n is in love with Jisung’s ass. It’s a match made in heaven.

Also... This story was originally posted on my main blog... but because it's a little more flavoursome, I think it belongs over here.

This story was born out of an ongoing discussion with @noellllslut where we both wondered what it might be like if Jisung wanted to be pegged but he wasn’t our subby, needy baby.

This is my version of what it could look like.

Thank you @noellllslut for letting me run some things by you and also getting me worked up and feral thinking about him in this way. I hope I did this story justice.

“You did so good tonight, Jisung. I’m proud of you.” You kissed your CEO boyfriend on the cheek, as the elevator doors closed once again after letting the last person out of the lift, leaving the two of you alone. Finally.

You’d spent the last four hours at his side while he worked the room and mingled with the investors. Now he was wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing you against the mirrored wall of the elevator. Only five more floors to go until you reached the top floor of your shared suite.

“Mister Han!” You exclaimed. “What is that pressing against me? Don’t tell me you’re going to ruin me in a hotel lift?” You leaned into his ear “They have cameras you know?” You whispered.

Jisung grinned against your neck. “I know.” He answered and slid his hand under your dress and tugged your panties aside.

“Baby!” You protested and pretended you wanted him to stop.

“That’s Sir to you.” He growled as removed his fingers as the elevator bell dinged indicating you had reached your floor.

“Shit, baby. I just remembered. I need to go back downstairs, I forgot something. You go ahead babe. I’ll only be ten minutes.”

He smacked you affectionately on the ass as you stepped out of the elevator.

“Yes Sir.” You replied suspiciously and smiled to yourself as you made your way to your shared room.

The hotel suite wasn’t the biggest, but it was luxurious with a large, plush bed, couch, widescreen television and a generous bathroom off to the right. A large mahogany desk stood at the far end of the room with a backdrop of floor to ceiling windows that looked out to the city. The view was breathtaking, but your eyes were drawn to something else.

A red box in the middle of the bed. A gift? You sat on the mattress and lifted the lid. Inside was a pile of red tissue paper with a note on top.

They were instructions.

“Be a good girl and wear these for me. Be ready in ten minutes.”

Ten minutes. The exact number of minutes Jisung said he’d be before returning to the room.

Cheeky shit.

You peeled open the tissue paper to reveal what exactly it was you were meant to wear and your eyes widened: a strap-on dildo, red collar, and chain leash.

Lifting the strap-on out of the box and inspecting it, you realised it was massive. Much, much bigger than any of the plugs and dildos he’d gotten you to use on him previously. You’d certainly never used one this big on him, and you’d never used a strap-on before.

You reached back into the box agan and retrieved the thick red leather collar and accompanying leash.

You only had ten minutes to be ready. You took a deep breath, and prepared yourself mentally for how your night was going to unfold, and took your supplies to the bathroom where the lighting was better and you could see what you were doing.

Most of your ten minutes was spent trying to get the strap-on to fit just right. The dildo looked even more alarming in size than you first thought. At a guess it was 8 inches long, but the girth? How he was going to take that up his ass you weren’t entirely sure. But he chose it so he must be confident. Right?

Next, you fastened the collar around your neck and attached the chain, and finally studied yourself in the full length mirror in the corner of the bathroom.

It felt like such a juxtaposition really. The idea of wearing a strap-on conjured up the idea of the wearer being in charge, dominating a submissive lover, making a needy man or woman desperately beg for his or her hole to be fucked. But the collar and leash around your neck was a stark reminder that you weren’t in control tonight. Your role was to please Jisung, Sir Han, and tonight it seemed Sir Han wanted you to do all the hard work, while he sat back and relaxed.

You considered whether or not to put on a sexy bra and sheer stay ups, but it wasn’t on your instructions, so you decided to simply fix your hair and make up.

Looking down at your fake cock, you wrapped your fingers around the girth, you couldn’t even get your fingers around it, and pumped it a few times like you always saw Jisung do before he’d push it into your cunt. You imagined pushing it into his tight hole. The way it was going to stretch him open and disappear inside of him. The thought alone had you wet. You were ready.

“Alright,” you said to yourself. “Let’s go fuck your man.”

“So fucking slutty.” a deep voice resonated through the hotel suite when you stepped back into the dimly lit space. You were momentarily startled to find Jisung had already come back into the room and was sat behind his desk. Behind him the full length windows overlooking the city magnified the power he radiated as a CEO.

“Come.” He gestured for you to come around to his side of the desk, turning his chair towards you and reaching out for your hands as you came to stand in front of him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked drinking you in.

“Nervous.” You whispered. Jisung smiled at your admission.

“That’s okay, my sweet angel.” He squeezed your hands. “All you have to do is follow what I say.” He reached up to play with the chain of the leash. You felt a heat rise through you at the possibilities of what he could ask of you.

He let go of your leash letting it drop against your bare skin and slid a hand under his desk to retrieve a round footstool.

“Sit.” He patted the cushioned top. You did as he asked and sat yourself down on the low seat between his spread legs.

He leaned back in his chair and you blinked up at him with expectant eyes. The corners of his mouth curled upwards into a smirk and he dropped his gaze to your strap-on, and bit his lip hungrily. Maybe he was needy after all?

“Undress me.” He said low, his voice laced with desire.

You moved slowly, placing a hand on each of his knees and running them up his thighs, enjoying the feel of his muscles beneath his trousers. You ghosted your hands over his crotch, you could see he was hard under there, before sliding them up his stomach and chest, all the way to rest on the top button of his shirt. He’d already lost his jacket and tie somewhere along the way, so you didn’t have too much to take off.

You took your time undoing one button at a time and slowly exposing his chest. Your eyes flickered up to meet his. The way he was looking at you made you flustered and your fingers faltered for a moment.

“You really are nervous, aren’t you baby?” He whispered, while you persevered with his shirt.

Next, your fingers found his belt buckle and you undid his trousers, allowing you to untuck his shirt and push it off his shoulders and removing it entirely from his body. He didn’t take his hazy eyes off you as he watched you explore his toned chest with your fingertips, eventually trailing them down past his belly button and into the waistband of his trousers. He didn’t need to be asked to lift up while you pulled his pants and underwear from him.

He was truly a marvel to look at. Fully naked in all his glory, the city night lights and moonlight illuminating his skin in the prettiest way. And his cock. So hard. So thick. So irresistible. Sitting there untouched against his hard abdomen.

You could barely wait for your next instruction, and If you actually had a real cock yourself, it’d be throbbing for him and leaking at the tip, just like your cunt ached and was moistening by the second.

Jisung reached out to lazily squeeze one of your breasts making your skin tingle. Your nipple hardened when he rubbed circles over it with the pad of his thumb, and then he grasped onto the leash dangling from your neck. Wordlessly, he tugged on the chain, gently forcing your head down near his cock. Gripping his length with his other hand he rubbed the tip along your bottom lip.

“Open up baby. Suck on it for me.” he wound the leash around his hand and reached up to hold onto the back of your head and pushed you down over his length. It was absolutely fucking delicious and you couldn’t hide how much it pleased you to have him in your mouth.

“That’s it baby. I know you love it, don’t you? My little cockslut. So precious.” he praised as you purred around his dick.

“Let’s see if we can get it all the wa-” his words were cut short as you sunk down entirely onto him until your nose was nestled against his wispy pubic hair. “Oh yes… just like that. Taking me so well.”

He held you in place so you couldn’t move then pinched your nose closed. “That’s it. Let’s get those eyes watering.” He let go just long enough to let you catch your breath and then pushed you back down and held your nose closed. You felt the head of his cock lodged in the back of your throat while he held you down, cutting off your air supply until your head felt light and fuzzy. Again, he released you and let the air fill your lungs before repeating the same thing two more times.

Jisung knew you loved it when he did this. He knew how wet you got from it. You had practiced and experimented plenty enough that he knew exactly the number of seconds he could choke you with his cock before it was too much for you. Plus you had your “two taps on the thigh” signal if needed.

Jisung released you, and while you bobbed up and down his cock, reached over the side of his chair to pull a lever that allowed the backrest to recline 45 degrees. “Baby. You know what you need to do now.” he tapped you on the head with a bottle of lube.

Drunk with lust, you growled in protest as he pulled your mouth off his cock entirely so he could hook a hand underneath his thighs to pull his legs up so he was almost folded in half. His cock, balls and tight little asshole were on display for you, perfect for your next task.

But before you even opened the lube, you couldn’t resist holding onto the base of his cock and leaning down to take his balls in your mouth. He groaned in pleasure as you sucked them in and rolled them around in your warm wet mouth and then hummed around them for good measure.

You released them with a pop, and moved your attention lower. Pressing a palm on each of his cheeks to get him as wide as possible and spat directly onto his hole.

“Fuck!” Jisung hissed when the saliva made contact. You dove in and pressed your tongue against his asshole. Again, Jisung cursed trying to remain calm. You licked around the tight ring of muscle several times, then took your attention back up to his balls, taking them into your mouth again, before coming back down to his hole. You pressed against it with the tip of your tongue until it breached the muscle, making Jisung keen, and then withdrew it. You took your time, giving your attention to all his sensitive parts, including taking his cock back into your mouth every now and then.

You made everything so wet and slippery with your saliva that you hadn’t even opened the bottle of lube when you slipped your middle finger inside him. Jisung groaned in approval at the intrusion.

“Does that feel good, Sir?” you looked up to see his expression dark and aroused.

“Fuck yes… another finger. Stretch me out baby…Quickly. Fuck, baby. You’re so dirty with your fingers up my ass?”

You smirked, and took his balls into your mouth while at the same inserted another finger. “Ahhh…yes… fuck me with your fingers. Such a good fucking girl.”

You continued to loosen him up, building up to three fingers, and fucking him with your digits until you felt yourself being jerked up by the leash. Jisung pulled over him so he could kiss you. Your fingers were still lodged inside of him while he invaded your mouth with his tongue and moaned against your teeth.

”Okay, baby.” He peeled his mouth away and looked up at you. “It’s time for you to show me what you can do with that cock of yours.” He reached down and tugged on it like it was an actual dick. “Okay, up.” He tapped you on the ass.

You felt your cheeks redden when you removed your fingers with a loud squelch and placed them inside your mouth sucking them clean. Jisung hummed in approval and stood from his chair pulling up with him. He was all over you in an instant. He held your body against his and you could feel the heat radiating from his dick as it pressed against your stomach beside your fake one. He kissed you long and deep, and it made your knees go weak. How after all this time with him you still swooned you didn’t know. But you loved the giddy feeling.

Your core ached for him, and all you wanted was for him to bend you over the desk and fuck you brutally. But instead it was Jisung who bent over the desk, exposing the two perfect orbs that were his ass, to the world outside the window. He rested himself on his elbows, curving his back and creating an alluring silhouette with his ass poking off the edge just enough to let his cock hang down between his legs and the edge of the desk.

“Get behind me. Baby, listen carefully. I need you to fuck me properly, do you understand?”

You took your place behind him, letting your hands roam over his ass cheeks. So tantalising. “Fuck, Sir. Your’e so perfect.” You adored Jisung with all your being. You stroked his back tenderly and then squeezed his ass cheek, even bending down and taking a gentle bite of the flesh.

“Fuck, I didn’t say you could tease me.” hissed Jisung. You stood back up and slapped him on the ass. “Sorry Sir, you’re just too delectable” was your reply, and you took the dildo, your “cock”, at the base with one hand and with your other you poured a generous amount of lube onto the tip and smeared it all over the shaft.

“Is this okay, Sir?” You inquired as you ran the tip between his cheeks back and forth over his quivering hole.

“Fuck, yes.” He hissed and pushed back onto the dildo. You watched as the ring of muscle expanded and sucked the thick tip inside. You stayed completely still as Jisung let out a relieving groan. “More, baby. Give it all to me.”

You pushed this time, watching more of the toy slip inside. When he’d adjusted you pushed again with your eyes glued to where the massive dildo was lodged halfway in his ass. Yes, you’d fucked him with dildos before, and yes you’d fingered him too, but this simulation of you actually penetrating him as though this dildo was an actual appendage of yours, took this experience to a whole new level.

It looked obscene watching your hips push more and more of the dildo into your boyfriend’s ass, splitting him in two. You used your hands to knead the flesh of his cheeks, helping him relax and stretch, until you had bottomed out and his ass cheeks were flush against your pelvis. This position felt so intimate and you wondered if this was how it felt for Jisung when he fucked you from behind?

Jisung dropped his forehead to the desk between where his forearms rested and began to grind back on you, moaning low. It was mesmerising.

”Baby,” he puffed “It seems im doing all the work here. I thought I told you to fuck me?” he growled.

You snapped out of your trance and went to work. You grasped onto both his ass cheeks, spreading them wide to give you ultimate access, and pulled the dildo halfway out and then slowly pushed it back in to the hilt. You immediately withdrew again and pushed back deep inside. Jisung cried out on the impact. Your hands moved to hold onto his hips so that on the next thrust you could guide him back to meet your pelvis in a powerful smack.

You knew what it felt like to get your holes fucked and you allowed yourself to imagine what this was feeling like for Jisung. It felt incredible having a cock stretch your holes open and drag against your inner walls. You knew how incredible it felt when your Jisung reached the deepest parts of your soul, or the way it felt when you were being used as nothing but a cock sleeve.

All these thoughts had your cunt gushing and you picked up the pace, slamming yourself into Jisung over and over. The sound of his ass and balls slapping against you on each snap of your hips resonated throughout the room. His leaking cock repeatedly swang back and hit your thigh, leaving cum stuck to your skin.

Jisung propped a leg up on the desk. “Fuck me harder, deeper. Show me how bad you want it. Show me how bad you wish you had a real cock.” He demanded.

This new position meant you could thrust even deeper and at an angle that was becoming impossibly too much for Jisung. He was starting to lose composure and his noises were becoming more like whimpers. He was losing the upper hand. He was losing control. You could tell he was so very close to cumming.

”Pull out. Baby. Stop for me.” He panted and started to stand up and push you off him. Part of you wanted to ignore him and push him back down flush against the table and pound into him until he exploded all over the floor, But you listened to your lover regardless. What if he was sore?

Jisung turned around and cupped your cheek and ran his thumb along your lip. He looked at you with fucked out eyes and an expression that could kill. He must’ve been close and didn’t want it to be finished, you concluded.

“Now my sweet angel.” He tugged at your lip forcing it open and shoving his thumb inside. It took all your self control not to let your eyes roll back into your head.

”On your hands and knees.” You immediately dropped to the floor and Jisung held onto your leash. “Now follow me.” He instructed, leading you away from the desk towards the bed with you crawling behind him like an obedient dog. He picked you up and threw you on the bed, climbing on top of you immediately.

“So fucking beautiful.” He said kissing your neck and fondling your tits. “Beautiful. So perfect.” He praised you as he made his way down to where the dildo was strapped to you. You thought maybe he was going to take it off. Maybe he was ready to fill you with his cock and come deep inside your pussy. Or maybe your ass? Maybe it was his turn to fuck your ass? Oh your body ached to be touched. Your cunt needed to be filled. You knew you’d be so fucking wet that he’d slide right on in with no resistance.

But Jisung didn’t remove the strap-on. He sunk his mouth over it instead. “Now who’s a cockslut.” You said. Jisung’s eyes sprang open and you knew you’d pushed his buttons. But you didn’t care. Sometimes this is how you two played.

He was on top of you again in a heartbeat, caging you in, staring into your eyes. “Takes one to know one.’ He replied and raised an eyebrow. Then a hand came to rest at your collar. Please choke me. You thought to yourself.

“Cocksluts shouldn’t be bratty otherwise they might miss out on the thing they love most.” He teased. “I think the best thing I can do is demonstrate what’s expected of a good little cockslut.”

He carefully removed your collar and to your surprise secured it around his own neck. Then he hovered over your dildo, grabbing it with one hand as he lowered himself down over the entire length, impaling himself on your fake cock. His eyes rolled back into his head as his body adjusted. It was the most exquisite thing you’d ever seen Jisung do. He leaned back and rested his hands behind him next to your legs and began to lift up and sink back down over the dildo. He built up the pace and intensity of the thrusts, eventually planting his feet down beside you and using his legs as leverage to really slide up and down and fuck himself incredibly hard.

You could see absolutely everything from this angle. His thigh muscles working hard. The thick dildo appearing and disappearing into his ass. Heavy cum-filled balls bouncing up and down. His painfully engorged erection hitting his taut abs on every thrust. The way his stomach muscles contracted. His hardened nipples. The veins in his neck straining from under the collar. His tongue hanging from his mouth. His eyes squeezing tight in pleasure-pain. The beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. You could see all of this from your position on the bed underneath him.

“I love you Jisung.” You couldn’t keep it contained. He just looked too beautiful.

He opened his eyes and smiled at you. “I love you too. Look what you’ve done to me, I’m so fucking close, baby.” He choked.

You took that as your cue to grasp your fingers around his cock and start pumping it.

“I’m gonna cum. Be a good girl and catch as much as you can, okay.”

You aimed his cock towards you as he came, spurting ropes of come towards your open mouth. You tried to catch as much as you possibly could on your tongue, the rest landing across your face, chin and tits.

Jisung lifted off the dildo and flopped on the bed to catch his breath, then he removed the collar and the strap-on and used the tip of the dildo to scoop us as much cum as he could from your chest and face. “Open up baby.” He whispered and pushed the dildo into your mouth. “Good baby. Good girl. Lick that clean now.” He encouraged. “That’s it.” He removed it from your mouth and tossed it to the side along with the collar and leash.

“Now let’s see how wet you are after this” he shuffled down between your legs and pried them open as far as they would go. “Dripping wet.” He observed. You barely had a moment to prepare when his face was buried between your legs, his tongue eagerly lapping at your neglected holes. You arched your back off the bed and cried out your Jisung’s name when he easily slipped three fingers into your cunt in one go. It only took half a dozen thrusts of his digits against your sweet spot, and a couple of suckles of your clit and you were exploding all over him. Everything had tensed up so tight, that when your release hit you you squirted all over his face.

“Yes… yes baby make a fucking mess for me. That’s my girl.” He praised and proceeded to lick up as much of your juices as possible.

You were both such a sticky, sweaty, fluid-covered mess, yet you both couldn’t stop kissing each other. Tongues were deep in each other’s mouths. Your bodies were still grinding together until Jisung found himself hard again.

He fucked you slow and deep, professing his love to you and coaxing another orgasm for your body while he came deep inside you.

Eventually he ran a bath and carried you in where you both cleaned each other up, before playfully bickering about who was going to call room service to change the sheets.

If you enjoyed this story and want to read my short scenario where reader comes home to find Ji pleasuring himself with her dildo, you can find that here.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @queen-in-the-shadows @queenmea604 @newhope8 @minnieprincess77 @itshannjisung you have all been tagged in the original but would super appreciate if you like and share this one too.

#han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #skz smut #sorshas fic

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tinalbion · 12 days

Note

Hi! Can I please request a smut fic with Rusty Nail? When I saw that you wrote for him, I was so excited because he is so underrated!

Hey there! I've been thinking about this for so long and I am finally here with good news, I am gracing you with more Rusty smut! Something the world desperately needs, I know I do! Thank you for being patient, I know it was a hell of a wait, but I am back as much as I can be!

Rusty is very underrated and he deserves so much more love than what he gets. So I hope this will suffice for the time being! 💙✨

"I Don't Want To Miss You Like I Do" ||

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Rusty Nail x fem!Reader

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄! Minors, DO NOT interact! Masturbation, vaginal fingering, cowgirl, oral, penetration, creampie

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 4k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You had been feeling extra lonely since Rusty had been out doing his job to support the both of you, so with your mind occupied, you figured you'd have some personal one-on-one time. Too bad you didn't know you weren't alone.

Whenever Rusty was gone for weeks at a time, that part didn't bother you in the slightest, it paid the bills and was a necessary trade-off for affording all he could provide for you. You didn’t even think he would give up what he loved doing, and you’d never want him to, but what you hated the most was the loneliness.

You'd grown accustomed to having him around, so when that first time back on the job came around, you were slightly nervous, but living in his larger home was nice and much more peaceful than staying in your city apartment. It gave you things to do with a place so large, new things to discover about Rusty that he had displayed around the walls, but for such a larger place compared to your apartment, it was painfully quiet after a while of living there. Rusty wanted you to feel at home here since you decided to stay with him, so he tried his best to do what he could to bring more of you out within the confines of the walls. He offered to set up a room just for you if you wanted it, sort of like an office or a crafting area, and he'd arrange it to suit your needs. You spent time in there when he was away, fiddling around with whatever you had set up, and you just mostly liked to sit in there and read, but today you were feeling impatient, so you placed the book down and let out an irritable sigh.

You weren't upset with him, far from it, you were upset with yourself for being so codependent on this man. He brought out a side to you that you didn't know existed, and you were starting to feel that feeling in the pit of your stomach whenever you began to think of Rusty. It would lead from missing him and wondering what he was thinking, to wondering if he'd ever let you fuck him in his truck. You sure hoped he would at some point, you needed to ride him while he was in that seat of his–

“Oh god,” you grumbled and stood up from the chair, then you decided it was best to go and take a shower. Wash away your sinful thoughts, that's what you needed to do. You pulled yourself away from the room and weaved your way around to the shared room you had, then rummaged through the closet, your mind desperately trying to bury the thoughts you were having.

The trickling of water felt great as soon as it hit your body, your muscles relaxed under the warmth of it, so you cranked it up just a little more to get the temperature just a bit higher. A smile grew across your face as the water soaked your hair, ran down your back, and you stood there to allow yourself just a few moments to gather your thoughts. But as soon as you closed your eyes, his face was there. You could imagine him walking into the bathroom as soon as he heard the water start running, opening the door, and just leaning against the frame, because he’d know you heard him, so you’d peek out.

“What’re you up to, sugar?”

You’d scoff and look up at him as you peeked through the shower curtain meekly. “Taking a shower, why?”

“Just wonderin’ why you didn’t invite me in.”

Rusty was like that sometimes; he would want to be wherever you were, wanting to touch you in every place he possibly could reach. You weren’t opposed to it, you encouraged it even, but something about his gentle touch when he was in one of those moods always made you feel empty without him here. Your fingertips ghosted over your lips and slid down to your neck -his favorite spot to kiss you- as you stood beneath the running water still, smiling to yourself.

The impure thoughts that took over your mind were willing you to slide those fingers lower and lower, smiling as your eyes remained closed until you gently dipped them between your legs. Your vivid memory of the way his large, calloused hands handled you so well flooded back, and the way he curled those two fingers into that sweet spot made you buckle at the knees. Yours weren’t as good as his, but they’d get the job done. You let out a small moan, your breath hitched as you pictured Rusty pinning you against the cold tiles of the shower.

“Easy there, girl, you’re so eager. Gonna take my time with you.”

Just thinking about his deep voice as smooth as pouring a glass of whiskey, it tickled your brain in the right ways when he spoke you through everything he did. Most times he'd tease you, edging you to the point you were a shaking, sobbing mess. Other times, he would talk you through it and watch you as your face contorted from feeling pure bliss to feeling complete frustration.

“Please, Rusty, I wanna cum so bad,” you'd whine.

“Oh you will if I let'cha,” he'd respond smoothly, knowing you couldn't do much to change his mind.

Your head leaned back as the water sprayed down your chest, you couldn't help but grab your breast and squeeze it, playing gently with your hardened nipple. God, you needed him so badly, and you wondered when he'd be back home, back in your bed. You wanted to feel his mouth between your legs, feeling the way his facial hair rubbed against the inside of your thighs sent you into a frenzy every time, and he knew what to do to get you to cum on command.

You wished he was here to pick you up and place you in the bed, but you had to make due until he came back. With a sigh, you removed your fingers from yourself and washed them off, then stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around you. The sting of sadness set in a little as you shuffled to the large bed in the center of the master bedroom, seeing how painfully empty his side was. He was already gone for a couple of weeks, and it had been a while since you last called to check on him, so maybe you would do that to ease your loneliness. But you felt so pent up and needed to feel a release in one way or another, so maybe you'd call afterward.

As you crawled into the middle of your bed, you laid on your back and sprawled out, one leg lifted as you placed your fingers between your already slick folds, thinking of the large, rough man of your dreams. He would know how to take care of you, it's like he was easily attuned to your needs and what you preferred, and his fingers fit so well into your hole. You moaned out softly, your body moved as you rolled against your hand, wanting to feel his thick digits stretching you so well. The room was filled with your moans and wet sounds from between your legs, and you pulled those mental images to mind that made you want to descend into your orgasm, already so eager to feel the sweet relief so you could finally relax.

What you hadn't been paying attention to was the front door opening and closing.

Rusty had tried to call you twice, but your phone was still sitting in your office space beside the book you were reading, so you had no indication that Rusty was going to surprise you by coming back a little earlier than expected. He heard your moan from downstairs, his ears perked up and tuned into his surroundings. At first, he was a little worried by your lack of reaching out, but it seemed he'd caught you at the perfect time. He was missing you while he was away, and he already felt the growing excitement in his jeans. Slowly but surely, he made his way up the stairs, making sure he didn't tip you off just yet, and the sounds coming from you only sounded more enticing the closer he’d gotten.

He had finally got to the doorway and he peeked inside, watching as you lay there spread out on your shared bed, touching yourself as your eyes were squeezed shut. You were pumping your fingers in and out, curling into that sweet spot as you moaned out Rusty's name over and over, wishing he was there to take care of you. It was hard for him to keep watching and do nothing, he had to have you, he couldn't wait for much longer.

His large hand slowly pushed the door open as you continued, no sound came from the hinges which would have given away his position. Instead, he stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with one arm keeping him in place while the other slid into his front pocket. Damn, you looked good like this, he was always a watcher, but never to this degree.

“Well, damn, if I woulda known you were havin’ fun without me, I woulda came home sooner,” he said suddenly, his voice still low and deep.

Your eyes snapped open as you removed your fingers from yourself, the sudden shock of the fear of being caught electrified your nerves. But after the initial shock, you stared up at him and smiled with a hint of embarrassment.

“R-Rusty! You're home!” You wanted to run to him to greet him, but your soaked hand kept you from doing so. “You're back early.”

He stepped up toward the bed, his head cocked to the side as his hands managed to find his belt as he began to undo it. “Well, I wanted to surprise you, but it seems you surprised me first. What'chu doin’?”

Your face was most definitely red as you closed your legs, poorly hiding the fact that You were just touching yourself. “Uh, I was just… I was thinking of you all day, I was missing you… and I got caught up…” You confessed with a blush in your cheeks.

“Missin’ me that much means a lot to little ol’ me, sugar.” He stepped up to the edge of the bed and without missing a beat, he grabbed your legs and pulled you toward him, which caused you to yelp out a little in surprise, but you were now face to face with him. He smiled down at you beneath the brim of his aging trucker hat, his eyes bore deep into yours. “Havin’ all the fun without me, ain't you?”

“I wasn't having that much fun, I was wishing you were here with me,” you explained, staring up at the large man. “But… you're here now, and well, I haven't finished…”

“Oh, so you want me to help you with that, huh?” He asked with a smirk, his large hands still resting on your ankles. “And so what if I do help you?” He asked playfully. “What do I get out of this if you finish?”

You knew he wanted you just as bad as you needed him, and he wanted you to work for it now that he caught you in the act.

“Couldn't keep those pretty little fingers away, just had to get impatient, huh?” He chuckled as he lowered his body onto you, massive in size compared to you.

You bit your lip as you reached up for his neck, wanting to play with the hair that peeked out from beneath the hat. He stopped just above you, hovering enough that if you were to lean up, he would be just out of reach. “Rusty, kiss me, please?”

He just chuckled in response, that smile you fell for immediately peeking from beneath the hat. “Oh I don't think so, you gotta earn that, sweetheart.”

You were about to whine in protest, just wanting to dote on the man now that he was back, but you barely had time to recover when he lowered his mouth to your inner thigh, kissing it and biting at your sensitive flesh that was oh-so close to your heat. The gasp that escaped was loud and sharp, but you soon turned into a whining mess the more he teased you.

“Rustyyyyy~” You whined as you tugged at his hair, causing the hat to shift and fall off to the side of the bed. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it.”

“You mean you didn't mean to get caught, is that it?”

Your face was flushed at the realization that he was right, you meant to pleasure yourself but wanted to get it out of the way so you could hold off a while longer for him to get home.

“Been so greedy ever since you were fucked,” he huffed and lowered his mouth back onto your thigh. “Give you a taste and now you're fuckin’ cock hungry.”

His lips kissed your slick folds over and over, just missing the mark of paying attention to your throbbing clit, and you swallowed a pathetic whimper that died in your throat as soon as he plunged two of his fingers into you. You hissed at the feeling of those calloused digits, curling into you and causing your walls to flutter around him. Your back arched as you rolled your hips into his hand, feeling that sweet friction that hit you in just the right way, you wanted to cry with how much you've missed him.

“Oh my god, Rusty, please, keep going…” you sighed, your lead lolled off to the side as you removed the towel from your top half, and then you began to massage your breast as he kissed and touched you.

“You better not cum till I tell you to,” he warned in that deep honeyed voice. “Else you ain't gettin’ what you want.”

“I-I don't know if I can hold back–”

“Then you better learn real quick, sweetheart, you ain't gonna like the punishment you get if you don't.”

You loved when he urged you, spoke to you like he did, the gravelly voice he got with you was so sexy that you could have fun just listening to him talk. You shifted and couldn't help but continue to fuck yourself on his hand, whimpering as you were stretched so good with just his fingers. Rusty then slid his tongue around, coating it in your wetness as he continued to finger you, gently playing with your clit. He sucked at it, watching as you went from a whiney mess to a blubbering mess. You twitched and your body jolted, feeling that intense pleasure on your clit, getting the friction you so desperately craved.

“Oh, fuck, Rusty! Please!” you begged, your knees shaking as he held one of your legs up behind your knee.

You urged him to continue, so he obliged and removed his fingers, to which you cried at the loss of feeling him inside of you. But now those had been replaced with that broad tongue, lapping away at your essence, wanting to taste the sweetheart he so desired in his absence. You could feel his facial hair scratch and tickle at your thighs, the overwhelming feeling of his stubble, his tongue, and his large hand gripping at your leg so hard was a lot to handle while your orgasm was building.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck–” You were at a loss for words with how well you were being treated, you'd loved how he got you so sinfully wet.

Rusty smiled as he brought his lips up to your aching nub and began to swirl his tongue around it before he began to suck at it. You cried out and thrust your hips upward, pushing yourself further against his mouth as if you could get him any closer to you, all while your hands were clutching at the comforter beneath you.

You were so close to feeling a sweet release until his mouth harshly pulled away from you, leaving you feeling empty and aching. “Rusty, no! W-Why would you do that?”

“Told you you couldn't cum without my say so, and as much as I wanna taste you, I want you to cum while I'm inside you,” he explained, followed by a dark chuckle.

It didn't take him long to crawl back toward you, one hand guiding himself to push against your folds, his head pushing against your clit. You squirmed and rocked against him, trying to feel him slide against your lips, just wanting anything more than the emptiness you felt right now.

Your eyes closed, your brow furrowed, and you moaned every time he pushed against you just enough to feel just a little relief only to pull away again, and it was driving you insane. Your eyes fluttered open and you stared up at him with a look of pure frustration.

“Rusty, pleaseeeee,” you begged him again, but you regretted doing so as soon as he pulled away from you. “Wait, what are–”

He pushed himself up, then with a quick turn and an arm slung around your waist, you flew up against him, landing against his chest as he quickly positioned himself so you were straddling his lap as he sunk into the mattress.

“Told you, sweetheart, you're gonna work for it.”

Your lips suddenly felt dry as you could feel his hard cock twitch beneath you. He was giving you the chance to ride him, how could you refuse him this? Your hands hold onto his shoulders to gain some leverage as you move yourself a little higher, allowing yourself to line up perfectly with him. Slowly you sunk onto him, the girth of his cock stretched you so well, it made you let out such a low sigh as your entire body shivered with the feeling of how much you needed this.

“Oh my god, Rusty,” you groan out, your hands still placed on his shoulders. “Fuck, missed you so much while you were gone.”

“Yeah?” He asked with a wicked smirk, his hands gripped your waist as he pushed himself deeper inside of you until he bottomed out, and then those calloused fingers slid down to your thighs.

Your hands immediately reached up and snaked through his hair, grabbing and pulling at it as his hands held you by your ass, allowing you to bounce on his cock at your own speed, but he could easily change that in an instant if he decided to. You leaned forward, wanting to kiss him, but he leaned back a little and smiled, chuckling at the disapproval plastered across your face.

“Told you sugar, you gotta earn that. Need you to cum on me first, now start movin’,” he huffed as he leaned back against the pillow, watching you with interest as you began to bounce on him.

He helped a little, lifting you every so often to get you to fall harder into his lap, your skin slapping in a beautiful rhythm as you cried out his name over and over again, but your voice hitched when he slipped his hand between the both of you to rub his thumb against your clit. Your fingers clasped the back of his head and neck, your nails grazing his skin while he continued to gauge your reaction.

“Oh fuck, Rusty-” you gasp.

His thumb rubbed in increasingly tighter albeit sloppy circles, and that only caused the pleasant tingle between your legs to grow with a deeper intensity. Rusty then pressed the pad of his thumb harshly against your throbbing nub while he thrusted his hips upward at the same time, watching you as you were coming undone as he watched you intensely.

“Yeah, you’re doin’ a good job there, wonder if I should let you cum now…” He chuckled as he saw your eyes roll back once he jerked his hips upward, hitting that spot in such a delicious manner.

“Please, oh my god, PLEASE-”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

You shivered and bit your lip, wanting to stifle your moan so you could form a singular sentence. “Please, I wanna cum so bad. Please, let me cum…”

Rusty’s grip tightened as his smile widened. “Atta girl, love hearin’ you beg for it.” His hand pulled away from your possibly bruised hip as he reached up, his massive palm now wrapped around your throat as he pounded into you harder, faster, all while still stimulating your clit.

You cried out, your whines and moans drowned out by the blasphemous sounds that came from your slick-soaked pussy. He relished in the sounds you made, you knew he wanted you to be as vocal as you possibly could, even in public when he would make sure you knew who you belonged to. His hands released your throat and moved away from your clit, then slid around to rest on your ass, gripping your cheeks hard as he began to fuck himself into you. He’d give you the release you so desperately craved, and the release he needed to lose himself in being away from you for all that time.

“Rusty, I won’t be able to hold it...” you warned through gritted teeth, your hands resting firmly on his chest as you clawed your nails against his skin.

“Guess I could let you cum on me, then,” Rusty offered through his heaving breath, still smiling up at you.

Several more hard thrusts against your aching cunt and you were going to be ruined in his lap, you cried out while he continued to plow into you, making you take every inch you could of him as your body tensed and finally released that pleasure. You couldn’t even take the time to ride out your orgasm, Rusty was relentless and continued to take you at his unyielding pace, wanting to be able to cum deep inside of you. His thighs tensed with each roll of his hips, his body straining beneath you as your walls clenched around him.

Rusty wrapped his arms around your waist and buried himself to the hilt inside of you, coming hard as spurts of his hot seed coated your insides, his deep honeyed voice released a guttural growl as he gripped you hard. It throbbed as he held you in place, but you were too tired to move much anyway, so you allowed him to use you as he deemed fit as you lay limp in his arms.

You were both straining to catch your breath as you both lay there, your body now collapsed on top of him while his arms released the firm grip on your waist and just draped over you gently. Your head was resting on his shoulder as you attempted to catch your breath, and Rusty just lay there with his hand stroking your hair softly, rewarding you for your good behavior with the softness only you really got to see. He wouldn’t force you off after, he enjoyed the affection you showered him with during moments like these, so he allowed you to remain splayed on top of him.

“That was amazing…” You sighed happily, your eyes closed as you listened to his heart beating. You couldn’t find the heart to pull away from him, even if he’d been gone for a while, you just wanted to enjoy it with him, no matter how brief.

His arms wrapped around you as if to give you a hug that he hadn’t thought of giving you till that very moment, so you moved your head lazily to look up at him, your chin resting against his chest. “You still haven’t given me that kiss yet,” you huffed and pushed out your bottom lip.

Rusty just let out a low chuckle as he always did, but he pushed himself up and slid his hand around your neck, tangling in the sweat-soaked hairs as he pulled you into a heated kiss. When you pulled away, you smiled up at him and felt content with everything in the world now.

“Missed you, too, sugar. Next time you’re feelin’ lonely like that, I suggest you call me up.”

“And how will that help me exactly?”

Rusty just laughed again and slid his hand down to your ass, giving it a firm slap. “Oh, I’ll think of a way.”

#tinalbion writings #rusty nail #rusty nail joy ride #rusty nail x reader #rusty nail imagine #rusty nail headcanons #rusty nail x fem!reader #f!reader #slasher headcanons #slasher community #slasher imagines #slasher x reader #joy ride 2 dead ahead #tinas asks #comfort #smut

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skellymom · 2 months

Text

"Bring Me To My Knees" PART 1

Crosshair/Hunter x Reader Non Gendered SMUT++

Dividers by the talented: @saradika and @4ngelic-wh1spers

Background: Reader and Crosshair are separated from the group during the rescue of Omega and Tech from Mt Tantiss. Two broken people trying to get by in the galaxy. Then two broken people finally dealing with what happened to their group.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warning: Star Wars Canon violence, angst, sadness, crying, guilt, stuff blowing up, swearing, kissing, intercourse, heavy petting, hair pulling kink, smutty/lemony content, lovers triangle with Hunter and Crosshair.

FOR CLARITY, THERE IS A HUNTER FLASHBACK SMUT SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER. THE CROSSHAIR SMUT SCENE IS IN CHAPTER 2. Broke this up in 2 chapters because I just couldn't stop writing...and 4K might be too much for one sitting.

*YES! I know Mesh'la is Mando'a speak for beautiful. However, I personally think it sounds pretty sexy when someone uses it while going to Pound Town. I like it better than baby, honey, girl, boy, lover, whatever. My personal kink. If you aren't caught up, there's a whole Tumblr discussion about if the Clones would even use this language. PLEASE just let me have this one word. Thanks.

I purposely wrote the reader in this fic to be of no specific gender. Tried to carefully craft the sexual scenes to accommodate either gender/non gendered/trans/genderfluid/non-binary. Everyone has hills, valleys, sexual organs, nipples, and erogenous zones. I wrote them into the story, but it's up to you dear reader to put your imagination to work. Hope I have done a good enough job that you can enjoy yourself with Hunter and Crosshair without breaking immersion!

Explosions and blaster fire filled the air as you, Phee Genoa, and The Batch escaped Mt Tantiss. Wrecker led the charge, firing away and punching imps. Phee behind him with a group of prisoners she freed from the facility. Hunter, his arm around Tech who was barely able to walk, blaster out firing. You and Omega supported Crosshair bringing up the rear of the group.

The Empire attempted to lock down the facility, engaging all doors on every level. Hunter got Tech past them as they started to close.

He turned with Tech in tow to shout, “Y/N, Omega, bring Crosshair! Hurry!!!”

You and Omega would never make it with the slow progress Cross was making. Grabbing Omega and with a healthy heft, you slid her across the highly polished flooring. She barely exited past the threshold just as the doors closed.

The last thing you and Crosshair saw was Omega loudly protesting while Hunter grabbed the back of her tunic to yank her out of the way. And the look of total panic on Hunter’s face.

“Leave me.” Crosshair weakly slumped against the steel hallway wall.

“SHUT UP! Too late for that!!!” You grabbed Cross’ arm and attempted to pull him up.

He refused to move. You were warned he might be difficult.

“GET UP NOW YOU FUCKING MOP!!!” Viciously kicking his upper thigh in heated frustration.

That got his attention. Crosshair’s head flicked up. Anger in his eyes.

You grabbed the front of his tunic with both hands, hefting him up, spitting with rage “I’M NOT DYING HERE! GET UP YOU UNGRATEFUL ASSHOLE!!!”

He managed to stand with his arm around your shoulders. Pulling your blaster. “How do we get out of here?”

“How should I know? Been locked up all this time.”

“KRIFF! Knew I threw the wrong person under the door!!!”

“Didn’t ask YOU to save me.”

You gritted your teeth and shot the control panel to the door the rest of The Batch disappeared through. The doors managed to only open a few feet. You literally stuffed Crosshair into the gap. His protests were muted by the sound of screams and explosions. He got stuck halfway through, then you put a foot in his ass and pushed. He popped through falling into a crouch on the floor.

“You’re INSANE!”

“YES! KEEP MOVING!!!”

Running up to Cross, you grabbed the back of his tunic and pulled him to his feet. Both of you ran across the hangar bay. The Marauder and Phee’s ship were gone. You weren’t upset, they HAD to leave in a hurry. It was total chaos.

You both made a beeline for the first empty Imperial ship available. Entering, you slid into the pilot’s seat and put up the gangplank. Then commenced firing on every non-friendly that approached. Some of the other Imperial ships got caught in the crossfire, exploding dramatically. Crosshair buckled himself into the co-pilot's chair.

As your ship left the hangar, two fighters followed in hot pursuit. You kept the craft low and entered the thick forest, shooting down trees in your path. Crosshair held onto his seat white knuckled.

“You’re going to get us killed!”

“Got any better ideas, Fly Boy? We’re sitting ducks out in the open.”

He shut up and held on.

One ship pulled away from pursuit.

The other followed. You kept firing, making a path to evade your pursuer.

He didn’t last long. One tree you felled, dragged another with it as you passed. It caught its wing, flinging the ship to the forest floor, exploding brightly behind you.

Pulling the craft up out of the forest, you ascended...

...where the other Imperial fighter sat waiting!

Close enough to see its pilot in the cockpit, waiting to open fire.

The end of the line. Crosshair inhaled sharply.

The ship exploded suddenly. And your craft flew through the fiery remains.

“Didn’t think I’d leave you?” Hunter’s voice came over the comm.

You nearly burst into tears of joy. “Oh, THANK STARS!”

“Let’s get out of here! Echo’s sending jump coordinates...” You immediately heard blaster fire over their comm. The transmission broke up.

“HUNTER???”

Static. “...ing to...GO! Can you hea...” More static. Comm went dead. Nothing.

“HUNTER! HUNTER...COME IN!!! CAN YOU HEAR ME???”

Crosshair shot you a horrified glance.

The little bit you could discern, your Sergeant’s orders were to leave the planet immediately. What if they needed help? You couldn’t leave HIM...them behind!

You brought the ship around and could see a craft trailing fire and smoke behind it. Looked to be the Havoc Marauder making its way off world. Several Imperial fighters were gaining on it. Kicking your ship into gear and taking off in their direction. You picked off two and allowed the Marauder to make the jump to hyperspace.

The last ship circled round.

Panicking, locking up, “Where did they go? I don’t have coordinates!”

Crosshair’s terse voice came from the co-pilot's seat, “Pick ANY! We don’t have time!!!”

“But...we...”

“DO IT or we die!” Dark eyes bore into your skull. “I’LL DO IT!!! You make the jump!” He furiously typed something into the craft’s dash.

“Jump...NOW!!!”

The Imperial fighter on your tail, firing.

You sat frozen. Your hand a lead weight on the jump lever.

“DAMMIT!” Crosshair slammed his hand on top of yours, shoving the lever over. The black star-studded sky elongated; bright blue light burst through the windscreen.

You sat staring through the windscreen of the ship, blue blurs whizzing past.

“Y/N?”

A hand suddenly on your shoulder.

“WHAT!” You jumped and snapped upright.

“You...went away for a while...”

Staring at Crosshair’s unreadable expression.

“We’ll find them. Take some time, though.”

Nodding, you relaxed back in the seat. “Yeah, gonna take some doing.”

Handing the soup bowl to Crosshair, he sulked...and refused to eat...again.

“You NEED to eat.”

He sneered.

“Don’t make me regret getting you out of that facility.”

Cross sighed heavily and took the bowl. He STILL wasn't eating, just staring into it. This man was driving you insane...if you didn’t kill him first.

“It’s actually pretty good for a ration packet. Provided you eat it while still warm.”

“Why are you bothering?”

ON YOUR LAST NERVE.

“Why did YOU bother pushing us into hyperspace...if you want to suffer and die so badly?”

Silence.

Suddenly you had the urge to slap the damned bowl out of his hand. “REALLY??? Let your skinny ass STARVE! Ungrateful son-of-a...kriffing...GAH! FUCK!!!”

Your sudden anger sparked something.

Crosshair slowly smirked.

“Knock it off and DRINK YOUR FUCKING SOUP!” Getting up, stalking off, mumbling angrily to yourself...hoping the tiny food galley didn’t have any knives.

Checking up later, you found the bowl empty. Cross slumped in the chair; eyes closed.

To anyone else, it would look like he was napping. You knew better.

You picked up the bowl to take it back to the galley.

“My compliments to the chef.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I meant it.”

“Whatever.”

Cross opened his eyes, aiming for an argument. “It’s a compliment. Take it or leave it.”

“I don’t trust you.”

An unexpectedly hurt expression flickered across his face. “This isn’t about the soup, is it?”

“No genius. I was warned you’re a constant shit stirrer.”

“Well, Hunter was never my biggest fan.”

“It wasn’t Hunter.”

This seemed to surprise Crosshair.

“Echo...he’s a bit of a shit stirrer himself. Takes one to know one.”

Cross raised an eyebrow.

“Oh...and Wrecker thinks you take yourself too seriously. I think his actual words were...he needs to unclench his butt cheeks.”

Raised the other eyebrow.

“But Wrecker was incorrect.”

“Oh?”

“As far as I can tell, you DON’T have an ass.”

Crosshair leaned forward, slight smirk around the edges of his mouth.

“Been looking...have you?”

“I think most people would say you’re just a torso with legs...Toothpick.”

He genuinely smiled at the new nickname.

“More soup?”

“Yes more, Soup.”

Nights were difficult and Crosshair struggled to sleep through. Awakening to hear him working through a nightmare. Sometimes he would mutter, groan, and thrash about, eventually snoring again. This happened several times a night. Other times he would awaken, panting and sweating, trying to remember he was no longer imprisoned on Mt Tantiss.

At first, he turned down your attempts to soothe him. That didn’t last long. It became a habit of you sitting next to his bunk on the metal floor, talking him through it. Eventually, you just crawled into bed and laid there next to him. It was certainly more comfortable than that damned hard floor.

Crosshair’s breathing settled into a regular rhythm. Stars, it was warm and cozy in this bunk. The idea of walking across that cold decking to your own bunk just seemed depressing. Five more minutes and you’d get up.

That didn’t happen. Two minutes in and you passed out cold.

youtube

(You like a song to go with the scene? Please check out this song. It "literally" FUCKS!!!)

"Mmhmmm...”

The deep bass of Hunter’s groan making you wetter as his hard cock slid in and out of you.

“Ohh...fuu...mmm...” Words were difficult when he kissed your neck like this. Whispering sweet things in your ear while gently fucking your brains out.

Laying on your sides, facing each other. One leg thrown over his hips, both of your hands deep in his curls. Grasping them with ferocity. The pain brought him pleasure...

Hunter slid his hand down your back to firmly grip your buttocks and picked up the rhythm of his thrusts.

“Kriff...can’t wait to do this...with you...in our home...all...the...fucking...time...” The last four words he spoke with each luscious stroke of his member.

“Huuunter...” Your eyes rolled back into your head.

“Got...a nice...little planet...just...for us...”

Heat and intensity rising in you.

“You...want...that...too...?”

...sliding in...

You gasp...” Yes...”

“Yeah?” Cajoling you with that sexy fucking voice.

...sliding out...

“YES...”

...sliding in...

“Tell me, Mesh’la.” He’s shuddering.

Your back arches “YES!!!”

Hunter reaches out and caresses your face...

...and you awake with a start. Crosshair had an expression like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Pulling back his hand suddenly.

“Wu-what???” He stammered.

Trying to shake off your sleepy arousal...slurring. “Did...YOU jus’ touch...Mah face?”

“WHY are YOU still in my bunk?”

The dream-feeling melting away...your brain having to process the waking world...

“...because...your nightmares... I’m the dumbass...who makes sure you sleep.”

Silence. Crosshair studying your face.

“You’re welcome.”

“Well, I’m NOT having one NOW.”

“Ships cold during the night. Ain’t going nowhere.” You rolled over, giving him your back. Maybe...you could pick that dream back up?

“Fine. You can stay if YOU stop moaning Hunter’s name when you spoon ME!”

You rolled back over shocked.

“Yes, you did.”

“What else did I say...or do?”

Crosshair grinned like he knew too much and rolled over without answering.

Weeks passed as you and Crosshair bickered your way slowly through the galaxy. The Empire tamped down tightly on most of the planets in the system. The Outer Rim while wildly dangerous, seemed mostly untouched and safest.

You both did side jobs to keep yourselves fed while trying comm channels and leaving messages with close contacts about the rest of The Batch’s whereabouts.

Everything seemed to lead to a dead end. Like they just disappeared.

In your heart of hearts, you knew Hunter would NEVER stop looking for you both...even if Cross had his doubts.

The open-air market on some back water Outer Rim moon provided a distraction. The textile stand caught your eye. Beautiful scarves...you picked up a jet black one with fine silver metallic strands running through it.

"Good choice. It compliments your hair." The elderly shop keep stepped from behind a long quilt hanging behind the counter.

"Marv! Are you flirting again?" An older woman approached clearly teasing her husband.

"Now why would I do that when I have you, my sweet Meiloorun? Besides, here's their partner now."

Cross sauntered up to the counter, amused at the comment.

"Hello honey" He teased.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his "greeting." "Toothpick, what do you think of this scarf?"

"Hmm, not really my style." Cross reached down to pull another scarf from under the pile. "Now this one..."

It was rusty red with fine intermittent broken off-white stripes dispersed through it. Crosshair draped it around his neck. "What do you think?"

The blood drained from your face.

"No..." You dropped the scarf and hurried away from the stand.

Cross caught up to you a few moments later...still wearing that damned scarf.

“Soup!”

You kept walking, angry...and hurt.

"Care to explain?"

Stopping and grabbing the fabric in your fist. "That's HIS scarf...NOT YOURS!

Cross softened. Not a trace of snark on his face. "You WERE in love with Hunter."

"We are STILL in a relationship, Crosshair! Just because Hunter and I are apart doesn't mean that ended."

Crosshair stared into your eyes with such an intensity...it was difficult to keep eye contact.

"So...I complicate those feelings." It wasn't a question. He didn't need to ask.

You noticed his eyes changed from brown to grey in this perfect light. The light of the sun starting to set on this backwater moon. Almost the same color as his brother's eyes.

You sighed deeply, letting go of the scarf. Your hand dropping to rest, open palmed on Crosshair's chest.

He stepped closer, placing his warm hand over yours.

“We’ll find them.”

“How? We’ve been looking...”

He squeezed your hand. “Marv and Mel...they’re a front for The Rebellion. Gathering intel and recruiting volunteers to fight the Empire.”

You looked up at Crosshair with renewed hope.

“They know where we can find Rex. He’ll be able to help us.”

You nodded. So many thoughts going through your head.

Cross took the scarf off and slid it over your head, to rest around your shoulders.

“C’mon Soup, there’s a place around here with those Space Cakes you like. My treat.”

He led the way hugging you closely.

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

To read Part 2:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744276448825769984/bring-me-to-my-knees-part-2?source=share

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logicheartsoul · 7 months

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This meta has been a few years coming, but recently inspired due to: 1) Sian (@siancore) mentioning and incorporating into her amazing fic End of the World the moment that this meta is about, and 2) talking to Mexi (@thatmexisaurusrex) about this and then when she made that "share your fave sambucky moments that are canon" post, I knew this needed to finally been written and have its own proper post.

(Also, to @elektraking who wanted to be pinged when I finally wrote this, I finally did it!)

This post is long and image heavy but I didn't want to put it all under a read more.

We all know this scene from Infinity War, it's been all over people's dashes and giffed and etc etc. We also know it's a pretty quick scene, not necessarily a blink and you miss it one, but because it moves pretty quickly. If you're not paying too much attention to everyone else in the background, things will slip by.

However, watching things in 4K can really make things interesting because 1) you can zoom in and 2) you can zoom in and see some pretty clear detail, like the fact Sam and Bucky are looking at each other during this entire scene.

You can see here that everyone present except Sam isn't really watching Steve and Bucky interact -- either they're blocked from of the camera (Rhodey, Ayo, Bruce) or they're not looking at them (Nat has her eyes closed, T'Challa is looking at the side).

Sam is clearly in Bucky's line of sight, even if Bucky is looking at Steve (because we know Steve is moving closer to him and is about to talk to him)

On zoom in, we can see Sam is not zoned out, this is a very focused look at what is happening in front of him.

The next moment is where Steve goes in for the hug, but during this hug, a couple of things happen: 1) Sam moves closer towards them a bit, 2) he and Bucky actually DO stare at each other over Steve's shoulder

And for more than a few moments. Sort of significant if you think about the fact that Sam and Bucky seem to communicate a lot with nonverbal looks between each other. (We see this a few times in Civil War, and then later in this movie, but that will be even more apparent as fact in Endgame and, of course, TFATWS.)

And perhaps this could be passed off as "looking at each other coz we're looking in the same direction" except for the fact that Bucky makes a deliberate look at Sam when we get the pan over to his face.

When Steve backs away from the hug, we see Sam is still looking at Bucky, so we can assume during the entire exchange when the camera goes towards Bucky, Sam is still doing that.

Which leads us to when the camera pans over to Bucky.

(Yeah, yeah the cropping on this is kinda weird for me, but I wanted to make sure you could see his face.)

Steve proceeds to ask Bucky how he's doing. And of course, Bucky gives some kind of cutesy quip that fills space and time before going to the next big plot thing.

It's very interesting that Bucky pauses right after saying "uh, not bad", but as indicated by the arrow I put in the gif, he's staring in the exact direction where Sam would be. Because if you notice in the screenshots before this moment, above, when Bucky and Steve break away from the hug, Sam is in Bucky's line of sight but somewhat to the side, the same direction as the glance in the gif.

Now, as we know, the others are barely watching Steve and Bucky's interaction except Sam, who's still watching with focused attention.

If you were standing where Sam is standing, watching all of this, hearing Steve asking Bucky, "how's it going" and he responds "uh, not bad," and pauses WHILE looking at a glance in your direction, most people would consider that a moment.

And why wouldn't it be a moment? No one else is paying attention to Bucky or Steve except Sam. Bucky and Sam have before this comment were looking at each other when Steve brings in Bucky to a hug. Hell, Bucky could have just said "for the end of the world" without looking sideways and the scene would've worked as intended.

Yet, he gives that glance, and has a smile as he says, "not bad". While looking at Sam. It's so quick, yet it says so much. And considering how we know it's canon for them to be able to speak volumes by just sharing glances at each other (hello Sam looking at Bucky during Endgame), why wouldn't that apply here too? Because the glance wasn't really needed if you think about it.

And of course, Bucky deflects with his "for the end of the world" coz 1) he doesn't want Steve to try to make more small talk and 2) world ending shit is happening, they do NOT have time to stand around, they need to coordinate and they're on a time table. Because we all know Steve, he would want to know the reason why Bucky is actually smiling probably one of the first genuine smiles he's given on screen since TWS.

Anyway, we all know the rest: the plot moves forward, Sam and Bucky end up standing close to each other to witness Thanos' forces trying to get through Wakanda's shields, and then they end up being blipped.

Still, while a short, quick moment, on closer inspection, a lot can be said. Another in a line of Sam and Bucky's "saying things with a look" moments, but an underappreciated one.

#mcu #sambucky #meta #gif #my gifs #my meta #long post #lmao photoshop died on me while making gifs for this post and i had to restart my laptop 😂#anyways i hope y'all enjoyed this post i have been meaning to write it for FOREVER but it's here so lmao

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mrsjavierpena · 4 months

Text

All the roads lead to a jar of pickles | Pickled Peña

summary: Javier keeps finding promises to make every New Year's Eve

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

warnings: fluff, alusions to smut, mentions of narcos, no use of y/n, just javi being so in love and receiving the love he deserves

word count: 4k (yeah i got carried away

IMPORTANT: English is not my first language, i've done my best with grammar but there will be mistakes (fuck prepositions i hate them), so pls overlook those

an: this is a one shot to the @pickled-pena writing challenge! i was super excited to write this and it was indeed a challenge since tumblr decided to delete what i wrote twice, but i loved to participate. also, i procrastinated and literally wrote this right before posting to no lose tbe deadline (not proud, but i made it

hope you enjoy it!

Javier didn't use to be a man to make many promises. He made a few during the years, promises like quit smoaking, clearing Colombia from cocaine, to take care of himself for his mother on her deathbed; he didn't keep any of them. It wasn't like he didn't try, though, Javier was a man of word, things just went out of his control: he did arrest Los Pepes, but the traffic of coke was at full stem ahead even without them, consuming the country, ruining and taking lives of innocent people; it was logical to imagine that taking care of himself was more under his control, but honestly, Javier didn't even know how to do that anymore, his life going south for so long it felt like changing wasn't a possibility.

He still had his father, and living with him back in the ranch again definitely had Javier in the most healthy state of his life that time. His return to Laredo caused quite the commotion, him abandoning Lorraine in the alter was never forgotten, but being part of the chasing of Escobar got him in Laredo's good grace again, he was a hero after all. He hated all of it: the praises and congratulations he didn't deserve, the back pattings and hugs that invaded his personal space, the audacity the people had to 'forgive' him, as if they were people whose opinion he valued.

It's not like he wasn't used to it, he was born and raised there and small towns had small towns' issues, but that didn't mean it didn't piss him off still. His big, nosy family was a part of it, all over his head asking "what was his plan now that he was back home", about "getting a girlfriend to become a wife and finally have kids", because "he wasn't getting any younger" and "was the only single cousin". It was like all his concerns were thrown in his face. He loved them, they were all he had left, but god, didn't they make him feel like shit. Because he had accomplished nothing in forty years, and it was clear that every person around him could notice that too.

The coming of a new year was another reminder of that. During his years in Colombia, he didn't do much other than a dinner with Steve and Connie, neither of them was in the mood of anything fancy at that time, and when they left the country, he simply worked or, in the best scenario, slept. In Laredo, though, his family wouldn't miss an opportunity to throw a party.

"What are your resolutions for the next year, Javi?" his cousin asked.

They both were in the kitchen, the task to cut pickles in very thin, even slices given to them by one of their aunts. Javi stopped his work with the knife to not lose a finger as he side eyed his cousin.

"Don't look at me like that!" she laughed "I'm asking you a question"

"What do you mean?"

"Resolutions, Javi" she rolled her eyes "Like your wishes for the next year"

"You mean, like, manifesting? Are you into that shit?" he couldn't hide the frown on his face.

"No, Javier, not manifesting, even though there's nothing wrong with that" she gave him an irritated look "You write down what you would like to change in yourself, to be a better person next year"

"Is that your way to say that I'm an asshole, prima?" he narrowed his eyes at her and she laughed loudly.

"Well, not just that" she shrugged "I like to do that every year, helps me to keep focused in what I want. And I see the look in your eyes, Javi" she wore a sympathetic smile as her hands caressed his "You have dreams you want to chase, why not start by that?"

A loud scream made them both jump in their places, a tiny human coming through the kitchen threshold with his hands thrown up in the air.

"Mijo" she laughed at the child's prank and the boy giggled.

His cousin had been married for almost ten years by then, a little boy and one girl on the way. Her being younger than him and having accomplished his dreams made a claw made of jelousy wrap its nails around his throat.

Javier wanted a wife, he wanted to marry someone he loved, he wanted to build a family of his own, he just was focused on the wrong things at the wrong time.

So he decided to start with something that should be simple, only one promise to himself: to meet someone in the coming year.

It should have, didn't mean it was, though. It was scary, he found out, to get to know someone after so long, especially at a small town where he knew almost everyone. Javier never had problems to get laid, but most of the woman he hooked up with didn't really seem interested in more than that, after a while it started to feel like a him problem. That being said, Javier didn't know how to start, so the next time another cousin of his said that he would really get along with a co-worker he had, he finally accepted.

The date was... awkward, to say the least. They went to the most popular restaurant in Laredo, every person there looking at him the whole evening; she didn't seem to mind the attention, but Javier did. He tried to make conversation, to ask about her interests, to compliment her, but he was as rusty as a cheap aluminum pot left in the rain for months, years, in his case. She would ask a lot about him, too, but not his hobbies or what he liked to hear on the radio, she would ask about Escobar, how was it like to catch bad guys, if he still had his gun. Javier tried to change the subject, but she would insist on talking about Colombia. She was curious, it was normal, he was used to it, but what a damn turn off it was. Javier felt like being in an interview, the atmosphere heavier and heavier as the questions were getting more and more personal, and by the first hour of the date, he was wishing he was at home.

Javier had this happening before, during his time chasing Los Pepes, the media would be all over him asking all sorts of questions, work related or not, and he hated it. If she wasn't an acquaintance of his cousin, he would even consider her being a fucking journalist, because it was not normal to act like that with someone you had just met.

So after that, Javier was pretty dismotivated to continue his chasing, but his family had already found out he was giving love a chance and wouldn't leave him alone. Apparently, there were many "young women" interested in Javier, according to his aunts. Javier wasn't really comfortable being putten in that position again, but decided to give it a try - few tries, actually. Blide dates were exhaustive and the most of them very unpleasant. In a blink of eyes, it was New Year's Eve again and Javier was still not in a relationship, another failed promise in his mind.

"Well, your plan was to meet someone, and technically you met, like, twenty new women. I would call it a success" Javier rolled his eyes at his cousin's attempt to cheer him up.

"There must be something very wrong with me" he sighed and she pouted.

"Don't say that, Javi! All of them wanted to go on a date with you, you were the one to reject them"

"I know, but- I don't know" he scratched his chin "They all looked at me as if I saved the world, and it's not like that, you know it's not"

She moved the newborn to her other side and sitted closer to him in the couch settled outside the house where they had been chatting for the last hour. Javier looked at the baby in her arms and felt his throat tighten.

"You think so little of yourself, Javi" all her attention was on him, but his eyes didn't meet hers "I know you didn't "save the world", but you tried to make a difference and gave your best to do so, you can't reject a girl just because she admires you"

Javier had done things terrible enough for the good ones to be irrelevants, had let shit happen when he should have tried to stop them, and he had told her that, not in details, but she was the only person beside him and Steve to know, and still thought he was a good person. And yeah, maybe he wasn't so bad after all, but he imagined letting one of those women inside, their eyes shining with pride, letting himself love her, feeling safe enough to tell her about everything and her never seeing him the same way, giving up on him because of his baggage, he knew he would if he could, so how could he put such a burden upon someone's shoulders? Who would want that?

"But I understand, I think" she spoke again, her free hand patting his shoulder "It must feel strange having someone knowing so much about you and you knowing nothing about them. Maybe you shouldn't go on these shitty arranged dates and find someone on your on"

"Yeah, I think you're right" he took her hand in his and gave her knuckes a light peck "Thank you"

"Mijo" Chucho's head appeared on the frame of the door "Would you do me a favor?"

"Of course, Pops" he stood up.

"Your aunts forg-" he was interrupted by shoutings coming from the kitchen:

"You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?" was the voice of one of his aunts "Strolling through the corridors looking for fruitcakes when it's not even the season anymore!"

"You leave my fruitcakes alone!" another aunt shouted back "I don't hear you complaining when you're eating them!"

Javier looked at his father with his brows raised in curiosity, and the old man sighed "Your aunts forgot the jar of pickles, would you mind driving to the tienda?"

"No, I don't"

Most of the commerces were already closed at that time of the evening, but the tienda was the one place everyone in Laredo could count to be open at any time. The owners greeted him when he passed through the door, trying to small talk, and he turned them down the nicer way he could, wishing them a happy new year and going straight to the aisle he was supposed to. He heard the sound of broken glass followed by cursings coming from further in the store and found you staring miseraly at a burst jar of pickles on the floor, the vinegar smell all over the air and a basket full of groceries supported on your hip.

"You okay?" you looked up at him and he felt the the wind knocked out of him; you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

"I am, yeah, that isn't" you pointed to the jar and he smiled.

Probably imagining what had happened by the noise, a man quickly showed up with a broom and a cloth to clear it up. You apologized profusely, saying that you could clean it up yourself while the man said it was no problem.

Javier looked at you one more time and left to get what he went there for. He had never seen you in the city before, and it wasn't like he was out of the ranch often - he tried very much not to -, but you should've been new there; the conversation with his cousin still fresh in his head. When he got to the dill pickles aisle, he shouldn't be surprised that you appeared in the other end of it, you had just dropped your jar after all.

"Hi again" you smiled as you walked towards him and he smiled back.

He felt something very similar to shyness creeping in his stomach "Hi"

"Just getting another one of this since mine decided this life just wasn't for him" you raised your hand and said your name.

"Javier" the handshake lingered a little longer than one normally would, your skin soft against his.

He saw the way you looked at him with interest, he should've asked you out. He should've, you were pretty, were his type and, if new in town, probably knew nothing about him. He should've, but he didn't. Thinking once then twice if he could've been reading it wrong, if you were just being nice and in the possibility to make you uncomfortable asking you out after exchanging two sentences in an aisl store. So he just took a jar, said goodbye, and left.

But something inside of him told him that you, with your bright smile and little jokes, could be the one. So he promised to himself to ask you out the next time he saw you.

And he did. After that day, he would go to the city every chance he had. He told his father he would start doing the groceries so he could rest. Chucho didn't buy that, but did nothing about it, he knew his son, so he knew better than to ask, when he wanted to talk to him, he would. It took a couple of months for him to see you again, in the most unexpected place he could think of. He had taken his father to an appointment in Houston, strolling around to pass the time when he saw you inside a café. His eyes widened and he was quick to move out of your sight before you saw him.

He was anxious, but he had been waiting for an opportunity for months and couldn't let it slide away again. Javier took a deep breath and entered the shop, a bell upon his head announcing his entrance. He pretended not to see you, going straight to the counter to ask for a coffee; he didn't want you thinking he was a stalker or something. While waiting for his drink, Javier would take glances in your direction, you sitted three tables away from him, an open book and a mug on the table before you. With his coffee in hands, he looked around and locked eyes with you, who smiled and waved at him. Even though there were plenty of unoccupied tables, Javier took confident steps towards yours.

"Mind if I join?" the smile you gave him made his skin prickle.

"Not at all" you marked a page in the book and closed it as he took a seat in the chair in front of you.

"I haven't seen you in a while" was his subtle attempt to start a conversation.

"Were you looking for me?" you rested your forearms on the table and lightly leaned in his direction.

Javier smirked, was that you flirting, or was he really that rusty? "I was, yeah"

"Good to know" you smiled again "I travel a lot for work, haven't really been in Laredo"

Before he could ask what you did for work, you asked what he was doing in Houston, so he told you about his father's semester appointment that was only available there, and that made you ask about Chucho's health, and then about the trip, since it was a very long one, but he told you he liked driving and used to do that with his parents a lot, which lead to talking about families, you said you weren't really close to yours, the conversation flowing with neither of you seeing the time pass. It was you the one to bring him back to reality, asking which time he was supposed to get Chucho in the hospital and making him realise that he was already late.

"Javier" you said as he quickly stood up to leave "I don't know if I'm reading this wrong, I really hope I'm not and I'm sorry if I am but-"

"Would you like to go out with me sometime?" the words left his mouth before without hesitation.

Your brows raised in surprised, but your smile could have brightened a whole galaxy "God, yes"

He called you the next day, not wanting to wait a minute longer than what he thought wasn't giving desperation. You set the date for the next week, when you would already be back in Laredo. He went to pick you up and got once more mesmerized by the sight of you; you laughed and affectionately squeezed his arm when he told you that. Javier took you to his favorite restaurant in the city, a cozy little place with delicious food his parents used to take him when his mother was still alive. The two of you talked the whole night: he found out that you were a photographer, had moved to Laredo a few months ago planning on settling down "I'm getting too old for all that traveling, and the house's prices are good" was what you told him. Your favorite food was mexican, you weirdly liked the smell of gasoline and wet soil, loved listening to music, still had your grandparents in your hometown so you visited often, wanted to have a dog but couldn't with your schedule, always dreamt of being a mother. You asked so much about him, too. Not the type of questions he was used to being asked, you tried to know him by asking about his childhood, more details about his parents because they seemed to have had such a beautiful love, if he had traveled out of Laredo before, which got him telling you he was a former DEA agent in Colombia, and he saw the curiosity in your eyes, he waited for the questions about that to come, but instead you just said you've had always wanted to visit South America. Years later, when he mentioned tour first date, you would tell him that you knew what was happening in Colombia at that time and that you knew better than to ask what could be invasive questions.

When you couldn't stay in the restaurant anymore because they had to close, Javier still didn't want the night to end, but drove you to your house still. As he took you to your door and wished you a goodnight, ready to leave, you held his upper arm and gave him a light peck on the lips. As if something snapped inside of him, Javier didn't give you the time to even open your eyes before his mouth were against yours again, tongues dancing together as if they already knew one another and had done this before, hands passing through each others bodies. When you asked him to go inside, he hesitated.

"I don't want you to think that's all I want" he vocalized his concerns.

"I don't" you took his face in your hands, brushed your lips on his and smiled "You're a catch, Javier Peña, I'm keeping you to myself"

Javier took his time with you, kissing every inch of your body, having you giggling and moaning and writhing under his touch. Unhurriedly making you his between wet kisses and moans and screams of his name. He would've stayed connected to your body for the rest of his life if he could've, but your agenda was booked for the rest of the year and all he could have was a couple of weeknds a month and long night's phone calls. But Javier took all you gave him without complaints, even though he missed you so much his chest tighted. He missed your smile, your laughter, your body next to his, your fingers through his hair, your kisses to wake him up in the morning, the way his name souded on your lips when he was inside of you, the weight of your head resting on his chest, the way your right leg would twine between his when you slept. The man was head over heels for you and knew you felt the same, all those nights the both of you cried on the phone, sick of being away from each other proved it.

But the both of you survived that tough time like champions, by then, the end of the year was near, and you went to get your grandparents at your hometown to spend the New Year's Eve with Javier's family, the people who raised you obviously being two of the best people he had ever met. His aunts were in love with you, the kids wouldn't leave you alone and his favorite cousin was so thrilled to finally meet you that she dramatically almost passed out. Everyone spent the night laughing and eating and talking, and watching from afar, he couldn't believe how well you fitted on his family, but he hadn't doubted for a second that everyone would love you, how could someone not to? So when he told you he loved you for the first time that night and you said it back without hesitation, Javier promised to be the best version of himself to get you to wear his mother's ring on your finger by the end of the next year.

Not everything was perfect, nothing ever is. You had some fights, you disagreed in a few things, but something you stablished the first time Javier gave in to old habits and tried to run away from the issue was that you wouldn't sleep without talking about it; no hitting doors, no leaving, no fucking the anger out, you talked and made the effort to change what was bothering. Javier had been in only one serious relationship before, with Lorraine, and damn what a difference it was. He couldn't blame neither of them, they were young and didn't know what they wanted; you, on the other hand, knew exactly what you wanted and it still shocked him that it was him. You wanted him, all flaws and errors and baggage included, you didn't let him shut you down when things got tough, and with time he learned to trust you, to count on you, to talk about his feelings, his walls slowly tumbling down. The day he told you everything about Colombia was the hardest he had ever been putten through, years of fighting drug dealers and putting his life at risk, and he had never been more frightened. Tears were shared, you didn't react very well to a few things, but you never dropped his hand, never interrupted, never distanced yourself, even thanked him for trusting you, and at the end he felt as light as a feather. You convinced him to go to therapy, emphasizing that he had to treat the psychological consequences of the terror he confronted back in Colombia.

After that, it seemed like you had reached a goal at your relationship, you spending more time at the ranch than at your own house, a great routine already settled, and you made it very clear you were ready to be asked in marriage when you said those exact words to him. Little did you know he was already planning on it, and one day, after photographing a wedding at a neighbor city, Javier welcomed you in the ranch with candles everywhere, a knee on the floor, tears on his eyes, his mothers ring in a velvet red box and the most heartwarming speech one could ever ask for. The wedding was quick to happen, neither of you wanted a big party, just your families and friends gathered in the ranch with the ceremony realized by a very emotional Chucho. Didn't take you long to get pregnant either, your life settled with you being called to take every photo in Laredo and Javier accepting a job at the Sheriff's Office; the both of you had decided to live with Chucho once he had injured his leg during work, him more than thrilled to have a grandbaby under his roof. Javi fell in love with you a little more every day that passed, more and more mesmerized by you and your growing belly. At the end of that year, he promised to be a father as good as the one he had.

And what a good father he was indeed. He dedicated his life to his family, providing all the love and dedication he had in him, gladly waking up during the nights to comfort his kids; yes, you both got tired as hell, made mistakes, got stressed sometimes, but you got the life of your dreams and the both of you had so much love to give that it didn't matter how hard things could get, you wanted it, all of it. With his one-year-old boy sleeping in his arms as you talked to your grandma on the other side of the room, your ring hand carressing your beautiful round belly that carried your next baby, he saw as his babygirl crossed the room shouting with her hands thrown up in the air to scare you, clearly influenced by her cousin, and you playfully shouted back. The dogs started barking and jumping at the commotion, the three-year-old giggling as you kissed her cheek.

Javier felt like his heart could explode inside of his chest, certain that there was no man alive happier than him, he thought about how lucky he was he went to get those pickles all those years ago. The journy the both of you had wasn't quite easy, the challenges you had to face, the expensive phone bills he got when you were apart, the fears he had to overcome, even those years in Colombia, he would have done it all again and again and again if it meant to be where he was at that very moment, to wake up everyday by your side, to always have you in the passanger seat to rest his hand on your thigh, to have the kids laughing and running around the house, to experiencing the type of love his parents had.

At that New Year's Eve, Javier kept the same promise he had been keeping the last years: to give his all to the family of his own.

"Javi, baby" you called him, your smile as wide as always "I'm craving pickles"

#javier pena #javi pena #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #zaddy pedro #narcos fanfiction #pedrohub #pickled pena #writing challenge #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #pickles rule #pickletrickle

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smt4flynn · 5 months

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embiggen, embolden

Rating: R18/Explicit (Minors DNI)

Notes: This is a story about misusing the enlarge spell to do some shenanigans with Astarion. I wrote this in the coffee shop where I constantly kept oscillating between being cold and EXTREMELY cold, so I lost steam a little bit, but I wanted to finish it!

On AO3 this is apparently 4K wordcount. Also, you can find this on ao3 under the same name, by ao3 user Voidromeda! =)

-----

This isn’t the first time you cast Enlarge on Astarion – during combat, of course, just to help boost his combat prowess even further (and it does terrify you how strong he quickly becomes, helped by the fact that he finally lets Lae’zel and Karlach be his coaches) – but you normally recall it fading away after some time. You do not recall it ever backfiring and making him even bigger, to the point that he is literally towering over all of you, and looking confused as he is.

“I have looked everything over,” Gale says after a while, stood in front of a sitting, cross-legged Astarion who is now almost thrice everyone’s size, his hands are clasped in front of him and he seems to be smiling too wide, “and my conclusion is this: assuming if, and if, you did all of the incantations correctly and used the proper gesticulations, and given that I was there to hear you do the correct chant, the somatic and verbal components should not be the issue at hand here. The only thing I can assume is that the materials used were at fault somehow, or that the weave decided today, of all days, to be a right petty bastard and Mystra wished to have a lark at your expense.”

Astarion huffs out in annoyance, his breath ruffling Gale’s hair, and he turns around to look at him with his own momentary irritation . Astarion throws his hands up in faux surrender. “So, to boil it all down for us little peoples,” his voice practically drips venom, “you have no clue why this happened and, for all you know, you have no clue when I am going to turn back.”

“Correct!” and you have to hold back a laugh at the fact that Gale seems to be enjoying Astarion’s mounting irritation a little too much.

“I am big enough to eat you.” he says.

“But you and I know you won’t do that, unless you want a netherese bomb in your body! And I don’t think you want to figure out how to vomit me out to resurrect me!”

“Or how to shit you out.” Astarion grumbles, but he is too big for it to be quiet, and Karlach snorts particularly loudly at that. Lae’zel looks disgruntled, as she always does, and she looks between you, Gale, and Astarion before letting out an annoyed declaration in Gith and decides to leave them at that.

Shadowheart eyes the (rather) giant vampire, then turns to Karlach as she says, “you know, now that he’s bigger than you, he could probably carry you around and withstand your engine.”

“OH. YOU’RE RIGHT.” Karlach says a little too loudly. A glare from Astarion has her hushing herself, “oh, you’re right!” she repeats, and Astarion pointedly pokes her away with an index when Karlach tries to climb up on top of him. He hisses a little, though it isn’t as bad of a response as the rest of you had to touching Karlach. That has her eyes alight with excitement, much to Astarion’s chagrin. “But, he’d eventually get burnt up, yeah? Probably ain’t a reason to bother ‘im, he already looks like he’s about to blow and he’s not the one with the engine. Dammon said, anyway, that we just gotta find one last iron.”

“You won’t be able to ride around on his back.” Shadowheart says with an arch of her eyebrow. “Unless, of course, you’d like to go find one right now so we can rush on back to Dammon and try out your newfound touch on Astarion.”

“Teeeeeempting, tempting, but I don’t think we should just rush ‘round for a bit, yeah? It’s so tempting though! Ugh! I hate making good decisions!”

She gives him a good-nature grin and Astarion puffs air her way, which happens to also ruffle your and Shadowheart’s hairs. Despite him not needing to really eat (“of course I can still taste food,” he says to you after you give him a piece of chocolate cake that you particularly really like, “it’s just dulled, and not at all nutritious for me, it’s not even a luxury . Your blood is like heaven on my tongue. Why would I want anything else? ”), his breath smells like some sort of rosy ale mixed with a vanilla pastry. It isn’t that bad, though it still is a bit unpleasant.

“And what of you, Halsin? What do you make of this?” Gale spins on his heel to point over to the druid who arches an eyebrow up at Astarion, just as puzzled as everyone else is that the vampire is now... large. Quite, quite large.

“Though wizards and sorcerers oft pride themselves on their honed control over the weave, be it granted, earned, or both,” Halsin says pleasantly, as though he is talking about the weather and naught else, “it is not so strange that even the most skilled of wizards and the most gifted of sorcerers, or others should they have a grasp of it, shall have their mind wander and for the spell’s consistency to slip. One’s tools can only be as consistent as one’s body and mind.”

“So you think I got distracted, and that led to the spell backfiring?” you question. You aren’t really offended by it; the last combat encounter you have, where this mistake occurs, is a hectic one, with reanimated corpses reaching out to grasp at you and try to drag you under. “That makes sense.” and Halsin nods thoughtfully your way. “So the best thing to do is to just wait?”

“Yes.” Halsin gives you a smile and you smile awkwardly back.

Gale takes this as his cue to leave, citing having found some new books that he would like to look through while they wait for Astarion’s condition to fix itself, and Karlach gets herded away by Shadowheart so that they can do something else. Wyll, who has been absent for most of this, suggests to the former two and to Lae’zel to go patrolling around the Shadow-Cursed lands, and the three women jump at the opportunity to leave.

When you look over, Gale disappears into somewhere and you think it best not to ask. Halsin, seeing that people seem to be leaving to do their own activities, excuses himself to go and look further into the Shadow-Cursed lands, to try and see if he can find anything now that he is more experienced. It is just you and Astarion now, the vampire staring at you with some mixture of interest and mischief.

“So!” Astarion clicks his tongue. You look at him a bit warily. He must be a bit angry at you, considering that you’re the reason as to why this happens, though you can’t see it anywhere on his face. That’s even worse, your mind supplies, because Astarion – for all everyone makes fun of him for being extremely obvious – can also be frightfully subtle when he wants to be. When he puts the effort in, you have seen him speak sweet little lies to some of the still sentient shades, encouraging them to curl further to Shadowheart before they melt painfully under her cast of daylight.

You think he does not try on the living because some form of guilt keeps him at bay. What happens when that bit of guilt is gone, you wonder?

“So.” you say when he stays quiet. Astarion smirks at your uncertainty.

When he comes to a stand, properly, you find yourself just a little below his crotch – Karlach, earlier, points and bellows loudly that she is ‘almost dick-height! Just a little above it, actually, that’s fucking hysterical!’ which is why Astarion makes sure to stay sitting for a good while. You, however, stand so close to crotch height it is mortifying. You have to take a step back and crane your neck up, almost painfully so, to be able to look at him.

It shocks you when he simply scoops you up into his arm, lifting you up on one elbow, and you are held up to his face rather easily. He gives you a cheeky grin. “Admittedly, I was miffed with you at first; it really is hard to be so,” he clicks his tongue, “stealthy when you’re a huge brute. But I think I’m beginning to see the upsides!”

“The upsides.” you say flatly. He chuckles, the sound seemingly louder because of his size, and he uses one hand to carefully cradle your head and bring you close for an awkward kiss. Your lips are so small in comparison to his, and it embarrasses you a little how tiny you feel. “Astarion,” you start, pushing his face back a bit, and you give him a half-hearted glare, “can you – can you not have desires right now when you’re way too big for me?”

“But darling,” and he drags it out just to annoy you, snickering at the little tick in your brow, “when will we ever get an opportunity like this again, hm? Us all alone, no one to bother us, especially when these lands are cursed as they are. Don’t you want to see how big I’ve gotten down there? I’m curious to see it myself.”

You want to say that you are a bit more forceful when you say no.

Astarion carries you away from the camp, blessed as you both are by Isobel’s magics, though you have a feeling that Selûne will more than likely disapprove of how Astarion is taking advantage of your weak protections. You aren’t really... isolated, given that Astarion is still so large and attracting attention, but nothing really wants to approach him when he is so, so large. Undressing you is extremely easy for him, and you find yourself being cradled gently by him. His eyes are wide, taking you apart, and the hunger on his face is even more unavoidable because of his size. His fingers, which have always been larger than yours, positively dwarf your legs when he helps hold you up in the air.

Holding you up like this, with his hands trying to cradle you while his thumbs attempt to spread your legs, you feel like a bug under intense scrutiny. He exhales out through his nose, instinctively despite the vestigial nature of it all, and you shudder from the way his breath washes over you. He leans closer to you, crowding you, and his large lips press a dainty kiss against your folds. You grab at one of his thumbs when it comes to rest on your belly, his tongue rolling out to drag between your soft folds.

You whimper; it is a lot of sensation at once, rubbing against your labia all at once, even when he tries to thin it, narrow it to press it against your hole. He pushes you closer lips completely overtaking your vulva, large tongue lapping mindlessly between your folds, and you moan loudly from the sensation. He hums approvingly, the vibrations all too much at once, head tilting to the side to mouth at your thigh.

“Do you trust me for a moment, darling?” Astarion says.

“For more than a moment.” you say, your voice a bit rough from your moaning, and Astarion grins ever so sweetly at you before his expression becomes thoughtful.

“I’m going to put you further into my mouth,” he warns, “nothing will happen to you. You’ll be fine. Trust me.” and you do, of course. You nod at him when he looks at you, verbalise it next when his expression grows sharp, and his tongue rolls out once more to give you a distracting, flat, broad lick against your swollen vulva.

His mouth opens over your vagina again, his tongue dragging from your swollen, emerging clit down to your puckered hole. He laps against you, quick, skilled flicks of his tongue even with his larger muscle, and you writhe and whine loudly. He pulls back for a moment, looking at you critically, before his mouth falls open and you try not to kick at him when his lips wrap around your feet, up until your ankles. He lets you slip further into his mouth – and it is so hot and wet inside, lips wrapped around half of your body, and your hands come to rest above his upper lip when he finally stops.

Wildness flashes briefly in his eyes before he squeezes them shut and opens them to look at you carefully. His tongue slathers his saliva against your legs, briefly exploratory, tasting your skin in a way that makes you shiver from the discomfort and odd excitement of being at his mercy in an entirely different way. The muscle flattens up against your vulva once more, pressing between your folds, swirling his tongue around before going back to tasting your legs, drenching you in his saliva.

Your hips jump up, trying to move in tandem with his tongue when he goes back to licking you mercilessly, the tip of his tongue swirling around your engorged clit. It lays flat, swirling and grinding against your clit, flicking it up and down, and you shake, shiver. You press your hands against his skin, unable to move your body much because of it trapped in his mouth.

It is when you are able to cum in his mouth, your whines and moans getting louder, shamefully so, that Astarion pulls you out of his mouth, murmurs a prestidigitation under his breath to wipe the saliva away, and you shiver at how suddenly cold you feel. He grins lopsidedly down at you. “See? It wasn’t that bad now, was it, darling?” and he presses a sloppy kiss between your legs, against your sensitive vagina, and you shiver.

He settles you down onto his knee, stopping you when you try to grind against him, and he clicks his tongue. You stiffen up, grasping at his leather trousers, bunching it up in your pathetically small hands. He works to unfasten his strings, pausing before he has to set you aside so he can undress himself. You can only watch as his body is revealed to you – blouse peeled off of his body, trousers shoved down and away, and embroidered underwear thrown aside to reveal his horrifically large erection.

It stands painfully erect before you, dripping copiously at its enlarged tip, and Astarion lifts you up again to sit on his abdomen. He leans back, his cock slapping against your back when you sit up, spreading his pre over you, and it feels like you are being marked by some sort of feral beast. Astarion chuckles at the look on your face, a fond expression overtaking him for a moment.

“You always were such a little thing.” he murmurs (he likes how small you are, how he can cage you in his arms and hold you, that you are the smallest out of them all and it makes him want to do terrible things to you while holding you in his arms), “but this is ever sweeter. Do you think you can take me?”

Looking behind yourself, to his hard, large erection that throbs and oozes more pre-cum from your gaze, then looking down at your vulva that feels like it will break in half, you know you can’t. “I will most definitely try.” is what you say instead, because you always want to please him, you know you do.

He helps you move up, his slender fingers wrapping around his pale, pretty penis; not a single hair anywhere, wonderfully thick and perfectly long, spreading you nicely before and now threatening to rip you in half, and he gives himself a few strokes just for some form of relief. You spread your legs, leaning back and his cock slaps against your back when he lets go so that he can instead press his fingers against your small hole.

One finger is a pleasant stretch. It sinks into you readily, making you huff and moan loudly from the sensation; you whimper with a bit of fear when a second finger presses against your wonderfully stuffed hole, his fingernail catching a bit at your rim before he presses it incessantly in. It takes some trying, your tongue rolling out from your panting; you struggle, muscles tensing and relaxing in short little bursts before you finally let that second finger in, and your eyes roll up into your head from the intense stretch.

It sinks in until the second knuckle, your mouth open with endless, whiny moans; it’s so much, forcing your stuffed vagina to accept even more in, and you wail when both fingers are pressed deep inside of you. His large thumb presses down on your sensitive clit and you make a strangled noise, hips jumping forward and you let out a soft squeak at the way his fingers feel inside of you.

“Good, good, you’re doing so good,” he murmurs, sick excitement painting his face and staining his voice as you fuck yourself on his large fingers. You pulse and flutter around his fingers, a shriek pushed out of you when he drags his fingers out just to thrust them mercilessly back in. You are most definitely going to gape the moment his fingers are done with you and Astarion seems to come to the same realisation with how roughly he keeps thrusting them in and out of you.

His cock twitches against you; his eyes are wild, staring down at your poor little hole that is going red from his attentions, stretched wide around his two fingers. When he teases a third one in, you babble incoherently – “I can’t take another!” you cry out and Astarion hushes you.

“You can darling, you can, come on,” he encourages, the third finger feeling almost impossibly too much, yet he still presses it against your fluttering, full hole. You don’t even know how he pushes it in – perhaps when he pulls the two fingers out and introduces the third amidst the soaked two, and it is shameful how much pre you yourself are dripping all over him. You don’t even get a second to register what is happening before he slams three fingers in and you are orgasming violently from the intense, almost-painful stretch.

Squirting copiously, you weep and beg when he keeps his thrusts going, extending your orgasm even as your cum begins puddling on his stomach, and it is only when you can cum no more and your voice is just pathetic whimpering that he pulls his soaked fingers out. His face is utterly wild, making him look almost feral, bestial, and he spreads your folds open further to stare at your gaped open hole.

“That looks like it could take me.” he says with strained breath, voice rough and a low growl, and he grabs you by the hips while you still feel insensate and boneless from your rough orgasm. The head of his cock feels almost comically large as he presses you against it, your hole spasming wildly, clenching up to drip more onto his erection and almost as if dreading how empty it is, before it relaxes open again and Astarion keens loudly.

He pushes you down, your hands flailing a bit before resting on his abdomen when he pushes down enough for it. He isn’t even halfway inside of you before you feel so stuffed, filled up with so much of his penis that you are surprised you haven’t torn completely open; perhaps it is a good thing he introduced the third finger, even though he no doubt adds it in because of the fact that he is lost in the sensation, in the moment. Your claws drag at his belly, sliding against your own cum and he giggles, your own much breathier than his own, because it is ridiculous how much he made you cum.

“You’re so – so – so incorrigible,” you slur out a little, your hole unable to even clench down on his fat erection, and his hands push down on your hips while you try to comply with him. It’s so much – he’s too much as he is right now, hands slipping on his stomach and you arch your back, thighs tensing up from the effort of trying to sink further, further down.

His fingers come to rest on your abdomen, his voice a bit awed as he says, “your belly’s bulging with me. You can’t take me.” but that doesn’t stop him; you look down and see he is right, his shape is poking through, bulging you obscenely with his erection. You feel like you are being hollowed out by him, and it doesn’t help when you aren’t even down all the way and Astarion is grabbing onto you and taking over.

All of your movement is abruptly taken away and controlled entirely by him. You scream so loudly that you are sure even the hunting team, so far away, can hear you; your tongue slips out again, your right hand slipping on his stomach before messily coming to your own clit to stroke and rub it as Astarion begins fucking you.

Both of you are just grunting, groaning animals, him growling exactly like one, and his eyes are wide and feral, focused on how your poor vagina can’t take all of him with how big he is. He babbles incomprehensibly at you, as if trying to praise you, though absolutely nothing he says makes sense, and you can’t help but laugh before it turns into a high-pitched whine.

“Please, cum for me, cum, let me see you cum around me,” Astarion says, the first coherent thing to slip out of his wet lips and his eyes shine bright now with love, and it is that begging, the way he looks at you, that sets you off again. Your orgasm isn’t as violent as the first time, though it still gets to you that you squirt again – far less copiously this time, but still enough to add to the mess already cooling on him, and he coos lovingly at you.

With your legs now shaky, body exhausted by your orgasm, he slows down, his thrusts lazy and leisurely before he digs his feet into the darkened lands with his hands dripping to claw at the earth before he cums deep inside of you. The amount inside makes you yelp – your belly rounds out with his spend and it ends up being too much to stay inside, squirting around him as it starts to escape, and he pulls out to let the rest of it land on your vulva, inner thighs, and even on your stomach.

You can’t clench your hole shut to stop his spend from just dripping out of you, forced into a rather big gape, and you just hum when he settles you down beside him and lets you try and catch your breath.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Astarion begins, and you murmur into his arm that he lets you use as a pillow, “I am aware it was… abrupt, and perhaps I may have pushed you too far, but you were a good sport about it.”

You nuzzle into his elbow. “I’m more glad that you wanted to do this with me,” you say, voice so sleepy, mind more than hazy, “I want you to feel safe to explore whatever you want.” and you don’t get to see his loving, fond gaze before you fall asleep, your body pushed beyond belief.

[When the two of you go back to the camp, way later when his condition seems to have finally faded, you are utterly shamefaced because you both look dishevelled and like you’ve been up to no good, though Astarion seems to be in very bright spirits about it. You try not to maul him violently when he ‘innocuously’ asks Gale if there is any way to adjust one’s size when enlarged. Karlach’s hyena like laughter at your embarrassment makes you wish you could just die.

You hate this vampling so very, very much.]

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #andro fics #fics: bg3

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kmomof4 · 3 months

Text

Orphan Girl- A New Fic by @kmomof4

I am sooooooooooo excited to finally share this fic with y'all!!! It has been a LONG time coming!!! It was inspired a year ago by a song our community chorale sang for our spring concert. The song Orphan Girl was written by Brendan Graham for the Annual Great Famine Commemoration in Sydney in 2012. The ceremony commemorates the relocation to Australia of over 4k female orphans after the famine took its toll. The song is told from the perspective of a 16yr old Irish famine orphan longing for a better life in Australia.

I am an orphan girl,

In Westport I was found,

The workhouse is my world,

Since the praties took us down,

What time in life is left to me,

If I don’t leave Westport town,

But the crown is sending girls to sea, for far Australia bound.

Sail, sail, sail me away,

Sail to Australia;

Sail, sail, sail me I pray,

Sail me away to Australia.

They say Australia’s fine,

They say Australia’s fair,

Australia’s on my mind

And the fields of praties there

I pray when this inspection’s done, that they’ll say me fit to sail,

For they don’t just send out anyone, oh Lord, don’t see me fail.

Sail, sail, sail me away,

Sail to Australia;

Sail, sail, sail me I pray,

Sail me away to Australia.

I am scarcely turned sixteen,

But I’m ready now to go

I’m decent and I’m clean,

Fit for any man to know.

And I will be some good man’s wife,

If there I’ll settle down-

And find myself a better life,

If I get to Sydney town.

Sail, sail, sail me away,

Sail to Australia;

Sail, sail, sail me I pray,

Sail me away to Australia.

Sail me away, sail me I pray

Sail me away to Australia.

I am an orphan girl, oh I am an orphan girl

And now thanks to whom thanks is due! Hollye helped me research and also betaed this monster, Joni helped me with plotting, and the discord ladies kept me sprinting until the dadgum thing was finished!! Thank you all!!!

Summary: Irish potato famine orphans Emma and Mary Margaret Swan hope and pray for a new life in Australia.

Rating: T

Words: 14K Make sure you have snacks and drinks readily available if you read this in one go... 😜

Tags: Period Piece, Irish Potato Famine, Australia Setting, Implied Sexual Assault/Rape, Minor Character Death

On ao3 if that's your preference.

New Tag List for the New Year! Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615 @donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings @booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza @djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

September 19, 1849, Westport Workhouse, County Mayo, Ireland

I am an orphan girl, but my new life begins on the morrow.

Emma Swan sat on her straw pallet, the moon shining in the high window over her sleeping place in the female dormitory of the Westport workhouse. She could barely see as she wrote in the small notebook on her lap.

The day car departs at 4am for Dublin. From there, we will journey by ship to Plymouth, where awaits the Panama to transport us to Sydney. I cannot help but feel afraid, yet hopeful as well, for what the future holds for myself and Mary Margaret. I know the Lord holds my life, my future, and looking back at what He’s already brought us through, I know I can trust Him. He’s provided an education for myself and Mary Margaret at Achill colony, and preserved my life through the loss of Mam and Da to the great hunger, and during my time here in the workhouse, where so many die every day. I can only expect that He will preserve me through the journey and days, weeks, and months beyond as well.

As I look around myself, I feel more hope than anything. The workhouse has been my world for 4 years. How I’ve survived here that long is beyond me. This is my only escape and if the provisions we’ve been furnished with are any indication, we will be quite well off indeed. I’ve never owned a bonnet, or stockings, or a separate gown just for sleeping. My time of indenture will be 5 years. I’ll only be 24 by then. I’m going toward a better life. A life of hope and promise. Oh, Lord, be with me, I pray.

~*~*~

January 12, 1850, Immigration Depot, Sydney, Australia

Ruby Lucas opened the door to the room Emma and Mary Margaret, along with other girls from the Panama, would be staying in until they were assigned employment outside the depot in and around Sydney. They looked around wide eyed and slack jawed.

“Would you look at this?” Mary Margaret breathed. Emma joined her frank appreciation. She’d never seen a room this fine. The ceiling was high and the walls were lined with many multi paned windows, shades half drawn, but still letting in an abundance of light. The beds were lined up along the walls with a small dresser in between each one. And it was cool. After the heat of the Australian summer outside, it was a relief to be indoors.

“It’s not much, I know,” Ruby said. “But this is where you’ll sleep during your time here. We do hold to a daily schedule. Rise at six, meals at 6:30, 11:30 and 5:30. Bedtime is strictly observed at 8:30. And you’ll have daily chores to attend to as well. Most girls are here for a month or less, but some have been here for as long as three months. It just depends on what you’ll be employed doing.”

Emma looked at her sister, who smiled back at her. The schedule wasn’t anything different from what they’d experienced in the workhouse, but already, Emma could see the hope in Mary Margaret’s eyes and she responded in kind. Their education and the training they were to receive here at the Depot, made their prospects of employment high indeed. Emma hoped to work as a domestic, where she might fall in love with another servant in the household and have a family of her own someday.

“Thank you so much, Miss Lucas,” Mary Margaret said, turning to the young woman. “We are so grateful to be here, you have no idea.” Emma nodded her head in agreement.

“Oh, we don’t stand on ceremony around here,” she said, grinning widely and waving her hand around dismissively. “You can call me Ruby. And Granny will have your head if you call her anything but Granny. We’ve seen hundreds of girls come through here over the years and that’s what they all call her. Not that we see many of them once they leave, but when we do…” She trailed away, still with a broad smile on her face and Emma felt an immediate kinship with her. She had a feeling they were going to be great friends.

The following weeks passed quickly and Emma and Mary Margaret were both assigned to occupations within a month of their arrival. Mary Margaret was to be a teacher in a boarding school in Sydney for the children of landowners who lived outside the city proper and Emma was going to work in the home of shipping magnate and sheep farmer Killian Jones. He had a young daughter in need of a governess since her mother had passed away the previous autumn. Mary Margaret would be taking up her employment tomorrow and Emma would be traveling to Killian Jones’ home for a final interview. She understood that he wanted to meet her personally to determine her fitness for being his only daughter’s governess.

This was their last night in the depot, and they lay on their beds, facing each other in the darkness.

“I’m going to miss you, Mary Margaret,” Emma whispered.

“I’ll miss you, too.” Emma could hear Mary Margaret’s smile in her words. “But we’ll still see each other. I’ll have the weekends off and hopefully, you’ll have the Sabbath off as well. We’ll make it a priority to see each other then. And we can always write to each other.”

Emma pressed her lips together in a small smile. Mary Margaret’s hope was contagious and she felt her spirits lift at her sister’s words.

“Can you believe how far we’ve come?” Emma asked.

“No,” Mary Margaret said, her voice tinged with wonder. “God has truly blessed us. We would have died in that workhouse eventually. But here, we’re going to be productive members of society. Not dependent on it. We have a chance to make new lives for ourselves. Fall in love, get married, raise children.” She paused for a moment. “The headmaster is very handsome.” Her voice was even softer now and Emma had to strain to hear her.

“The headmaster? Of your school?” Emma asked.

“Mmhmmm,” Mary Margaret agreed. “David Nolan.”

Silence fell between them and Emma got lost in her own thoughts. She didn’t know what to expect from her assigned position, or even if she’d receive Killian Jones’ final approval, but the position of governess to the daughter of a wealthy landowner would be as favorable an outcome as she could have expected. She’d be well paid and have higher status within the household than she could have hoped for. Perhaps there she’d meet some good man who would love her and care for her. Someone she could love and care for and raise children with. She smiled in the darkness. Perhaps this David Nolan would be that person for her sister. Only time would tell. She closed her eyes and slipped into dreams.

~*~*~

Emma stepped down from the carriage that brought her from the Immigration Depot to the home of Killian Jones. The house was a single story ranch style home that was finer than anything Emma had ever seen. Granny was right behind her as a chaperone since this wasn’t yet a permanent position. Off to the side of the house, there was a paddock with horses and several men working. Emma inhaled sharply as one by one, the men approached the fence to stare at the newcomers. Emma straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin slightly as she stepped boldly toward the house. It wouldn’t do to show her nervousness at their blatant appraisal.

As she approached the house, a tall and very handsome man emerged from inside. He wore pressed khaki trousers and a blue chambray shirt with a black vest over it. His six-shooter sat on his hip and Emma gulped thinking about the reason why he’d need to have it on him inside his own home. He had dark brown hair whose gently tousled style seemed to match the rest of him- controlled but just untamed enough to be interesting. He had piercing blue eyes and dark scruff lined his jaw with just a hint of ginger in the morning sun. Emma felt her heart rate jump when she saw him.

The man was literally breathtaking.

“Emma Swan?” he asked, descending the steps toward them, his hand outstretched.

Emma stopped with Granny beside her and dropped a small curtsey before rising and meeting his gaze.

“Yes.”

“And you must be Ms. Lucas,” he said, shaking her hand. “Killian Jones.”

Granny shook his hand and then waved aside his greeting. “Everyone calls me Granny, young man. And I’ll expect you to do the same.”

The man laughed good naturedly. Emma took a deep breath, hoping it would bring her heart rate under control.

“Very well, Granny. Please, come in,” he said, gesturing behind him toward the house.

Emma struggled to keep her mouth closed as they entered behind him. Like the Depot, the ceilings were high and it was blessedly cool after the nearly two hour journey in the carriage. It was rustic in a way the Depot was not, the walls a little rougher and exposed beams up above. She tried not to stare as he led them into what could only be his office. He shut the heavy double doors behind them as she and Granny settled themselves in the leather chairs in front of the huge wooden desk that dominated the room. He sat down behind the desk and folded his hands on top of it, leaning forward just a bit.

“Welcome to Drogheda Station, Miss Swan,” he began. “My name is Killian Jones, and I am in need of a governess for my young daughter. She lost her mother closing in on a year ago now, and I just wanted to meet you myself before introducing you to my Alice and make sure you’d be a good fit with our family.” Emma nodded, but remained silent. His crystal blue eyes remained on hers as he spoke and she had to give herself an internal shake to keep herself from getting lost in them.

“So, tell me about yourself.” He looked down at a small stack of papers on his desk for a moment before looking back at her again. “I have quite a bit of information about you from your file provided to me from Granny, but I’d like to hear some of it in your own words.” He smiled and Emma instantly relaxed as she returned it.

“Ah,” Emma began, “the name… of the station? Drogheda? That’s Irish isn’t it?”

His smile lit up his face and Emma thought she would swoon at the pleasure she saw in his beautiful eyes.

“It is,” he affirmed. “My father was from Drogheda in County Louth on the east coast of Ireland. He immigrated here when he was a teenager. He died when I was small, but when I bought this land, I wanted to honor him and the roots he left behind by naming the station after his hometown.”

“I see.” She smiled back at him. “That’s a lovely tribute to your family. Thank you for sharing it with me. I’d never been to County Louth, but I had heard of it. I’m from County Mayo on the west coast.”

Killian smiled softly at her statement and nodded for her to continue. He watched the young woman in front of him intently as she continued speaking. Her manners were impeccable and her appearance was most pleasing. Her long golden hair was gathered at the nape of her neck in a ponytail against the summer heat, but it positively glowed in the sun shining through the windows of his office. There was a sadness in her green eyes that Killian found himself responding to. It was the look that he himself saw in the mirror every day. The look of an orphan. Given her circumstances, and where she came from, he wasn’t at all surprised.

What did surprise him, however, was how strongly he was responding to it. He wanted nothing more than to care for and shelter this lovely young lady. Her education and decorum were obvious in her comportment and Killian was sure she’d be a perfect fit for the position. He rarely had trouble discerning the character of a person upon their first meeting, and after just this brief introduction to Emma Swan, he had no compunction whatsoever in bringing her on as Alice’s governess.

“Thank you, Miss Swan,” he said when she finished telling him about herself. He turned his attention to Granny. “She’ll do fine. Thank you,” he continued with a short and decisive nod. “Now, do either of you have any questions for me?”

Emma glanced at Granny for a moment before turning back toward Mr. Jones.

“I had a couple of questions, actually, Sir.”

He waved aside her statement. “You don’t need to address me as Sir, Miss Swan. As a member of the household, Mr. Jones will do,” he said, his blue eyes meeting hers.

Emma was surprised, but nodded. “Well, that was the first one,” she said with a smile. “The second was concerning time off. I do hope this isn’t presumptuous. My sister remained in Sydney as a teacher at a boarding school and I’d like to be able to visit her occasionally.”

“Of course,” he agreed immediately. “We are pretty strict about observing the Sabbath here, so you’d be free to spend that day however you saw fit. Whether you spent it reading in your room, catching up on correspondence, or visiting your sister in town. You’d, of course, have access to a carriage to carry you to and from.”

“Thank you so much.” She looked at Granny again, who’d opened her mouth to speak.

“I have a question as well.”

Mr. Jones encouraged her to continue with a wave of his hand.

“I noticed the men in the paddock next to the house paying special attention when Emma climbed out of the carriage.” Granny was fierce and she wouldn’t tolerate any untoward behavior toward her charges. She fixed him with a glare that had Emma questioning if she’d actually remain behind when Granny left or not. “What guarantee do I have that Emma will be safe here?” “I run a tight ship here, Granny,” he said, meeting her stare with one of his own. “I can’t fault the men for noticing a pretty lass, but there is a line and they know not to cross it. Not to cross me. Emma will be safe here. You have my word.”

Granny was motionless for a moment before she nodded her head sharply and stood. Emma stood as well and turned toward her caretaker for the last month before embracing her fiercely.

“Thank you so much, Granny,” she whispered. “For everything.”

Granny held on to her upper arms as she drew away from her. “You make us proud, Emma. And I will expect a visit when you come to town to visit Mary Margaret.”

Emma smiled through the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

Once they’d escorted Granny back out to the carriage that would carry her back to Sydney and watched it disappear over the horizon, Mr. Jones showed her back inside. Emma noticed the men in the paddock didn’t pay them any special notice this time, not while he was with her. As they passed through the house, Mr. Jones pointed out various rooms as he led her directly to her quarters. Her trunk had already been deposited inside, as he had instructed before they saw Granny off.

“Dinner is at seven. You’ll meet Alice then,” he informed her. “Until then, feel free to unpack and rest. I’ll have a lunch tray brought to you here in a few minutes so you won’t be disturbed.”

“Thank you. I’d appreciate a rest after the journey and I’ll look forward to meeting Alice this evening.” Emma smiled and nodded as he backed out of the room and shut the door.

~*~*~

Emma rushed into the dining room hours later to find Mr. Jones and a young girl already seated at the table. Emma quickly curtseyed and apologized for her tardiness before sitting down in a vacant chair opposite the girl.

“It’s your first evening in a new environment,” Mr. Jones said. “And I didn’t exactly take you on a full tour of the house so you’d know where to go. So no apology is necessary.” He gave her an appraising look as their meal was served. Emma’s mouth went dry, wondering if she’d done something wrong already.

“This is the same dress you wore this morning, is it not?” he asked.

Emma looked down as a blush heated her cheeks. “It is,” she said. “I only have one other.”

“I see,” he murmured. “We’ll have to make a trip into town sometime soon to furnish you a suitable wardrobe. You can’t be expected to wear the same two dresses day after day after day. People would think you weren’t being paid a suitable wage. I’ll need to clear my schedule a bit, so we can take a couple of days for the trip. I still have some of my wife’s garments you can make use of until then.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary…”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted. He glanced at his daughter who watched the exchange with wide blue eyes, just like her father. “I am trying to raise Alice to be a lady, with the manners and comportment to match, and that is difficult enough out here in the bush without a good example for her to follow.” He raised his eyebrows at her with a significant look and Emma nodded her understanding before smiling across at the girl.

“Alice, this is your new governess, Miss Emma,” he introduced. “Emma, may I present to you, my daughter, Alice.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Alice,” she said.

“You as well, Miss Emma,” Alice replied, a wide smile lighting up her entire face.

Once the introductions were out of the way, Alice proved to be a delightful chatterbox. She was inquisitive, attentive, and very observant and it was clear to Emma that Mr. Jones loved his daughter dearly in the way he spoke to her and gently steered the dinner conversation.

As the meal came to an end, Mr. Jones rose from the table and spoke once again. “It’s time to ready yourself for bed, my Starfish.” He turned his attention to Emma. “I’ll see to her bedtime routine tonight, and give you this first evening to yourself. You can take over tomorrow evening.” Emma smiled and nodded her agreement. “Goodnight, Miss Emma.”

He held his elbow out for Alice to take and Emma’s heart melted.

“Goodnight, Mr. Jones. Goodnight, Alice.”

“Goodnight, Miss Emma,” Alice replied. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

As they walked out of the dining room, Emma smiled softly at the obvious affection between father and daughter. It was wonderful to see a father take such an interest in the care of his child. Once they were gone, she thought back to all the circumstances that had brought her to this place. This truly was the beginning of a new life for her, and she had the feeling it would be a good one.

~*~*~

The next morning, Mr. Jones took Emma on a full tour of the house. She met Robin Locksley, the overseer at the station, and the other household staff. They were all friendly and polite and Emma felt completely at ease among them. Once the tour was finished, Alice joined them as they entered the stable to collect a buggy for a ride around the station, for when the ladies might take excursions around the property.

“Cassidy,” he called, once they were inside.

A man with light brown hair emerged from one of the stalls wiping his hands on what was once a white cloth. He wasn’t as tall as Mr. Jones, and was a bit stockier, too. The look in his eye as he took her in reminded her of the way the hands had stared at her when she’d arrived the day before. She did the same thing now as she did then, raising her chin just a bit and squaring her shoulders. A quick glance at her employer told her he’d noticed his appraisal as well, and wasn’t pleased. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he silently clenched his teeth in apparent irritation.

“Good morning, Mr. Jones,” the man said affably. “What can I do for you?”

“Cassidy, this is Alice’s new governess, Miss Emma Swan,” he introduced. “Miss Emma, this the stablemaster, Mr. Neal Cassidy. Whenever you and Alice want to go for a ride, or need a carriage for going into town, he’ll take care of getting your horses ready.”

Emma curtseyed politely, even if she’d rather stay far away from the man in front of them.

“I’ll be accompanying Miss Emma and Alice today, Cassidy, but in the future, if they are traveling by buggy or carriage, I want a stable hand to accompany them.” He turned to Emma, sincerity shining in his eyes. “I know you’re able to drive a buggy, Miss Emma,” he said, “but in the case of an emergency, whether that’s dingos or a broken wheel or axle, I’d feel better knowing you had an armed man with you and my daughter.”

“Of course, Mr. Jones,” she agreed quickly. “To be honest, I’d feel the same way. There’s too much out here that I’m unexposed to and unfamiliar with. I’d feel much better having someone with us who could handle whatever the bush throws at us.”

Killian smiled, relieved she’d agreed with his edict so quickly. Turning back to Cassidy, he gave the man’s back a hard stare as he went about preparing the carriage for them. He hadn’t missed the blatant appreciation in his eyes when he saw Emma. Cassidy was relatively new to the ranch- he’d only been there since the new year- but he’d come very highly recommended. Just as he’d told Granny the day before, he couldn’t fault the man for noticing Emma, but he hadn’t been here long enough to know what was expected behavior around a lady. Killian had a feeling he was going to have to keep a close eye on the stablemaster and make it very clear to him that Emma was under his protection. Anything less than gentlemanly and respectful treatment of Emma and Alice would not be tolerated. And would be dealt with immediately and decisively. Killian’s honor would allow nothing less.

~*~*~

Emma had been at the station for two weeks when Killian was finally able to take a couple of days away from his work to accompany Emma and Alice into town for a new wardrobe for Emma. Alice was quite excited because she’d been promised new hair ribbons.

The bell over the door rang as Killian opened it before allowing the ladies to precede him inside. Emma’s eyes widened in surprise. The sunlight pouring through the windows at the front of the store drew attention to the soft fabrics and rich, vibrant colors. They nearly made Emma’s eyes dazzle. She’d never seen the like.

She couldn’t help reaching out and trailing her fingers along the edge of the dress in front of her as Killian approached the counter. The material was soft to the touch, and nearly exactly the same color as her eyes. A small sigh escaped her as she pictured herself wearing it. A soft gasp beside her brought her out of her reverie and focused her attention on Alice.

“You’d look so pretty in this, Miss Emma,” she breathed. “Don’t you think so, Papa?”

Emma was astonished to find Killian standing in front of them. She’d been so lost in her daydream, she hadn’t realized he’d returned to where she and Alice were looking around at the clothes on display.

He had a soft smile on his face as he looked at her and his hand joined hers as it continued to stroke the soft fabric.

“It would look lovely on you, Miss Emma.” His eyes never left hers as his hand gently cupped hers, so that the back of his fingers also ran along the material. Emma could hardly breathe.

A third voice joined them, startling Emma again. A tall, somewhat plump woman dressed in pink was looking her up and down.

“Ah, yes,” she said. “And I believe this day dress would need very little in the way of tailoring. It seems to have been made for you.” She pulled the dress down and held it up to her. “Yes,” she said, nodding decisively. “Go in the back and put it on. I’ll be there in a moment to make sure no alterations are needed.”

Emma, seeking his permission, looked at Killian who was scratching behind his ear. He nodded gently at her.

“Miss Flora and her sisters, Miss Fauna and Miss Meriweather,” he began, motioning at the other two women who’d also joined them, “are master haberdashers. I’m sure Miss Flora is correct in surmising your size and if the dress will fit.”

Emma nodded and took the dress from Miss Flora. She moved toward the back of the shop and took a deep breath trying to bring her heart rate back under control. The way he was looking at her as they both touched the material of the dress made heat rise to her cheeks and sent her heart into overdrive, beating a staccato rhythm that she could only hope wasn’t obvious to the people around her.

Once she got the dress on, she could plainly see Miss Flora truly was an expert. It fit her perfectly. Just then, Miss Flora came through the drapes that hung over the door to the front of the store and Emma could just see Alice poking her head through.

“May I come in and see, Miss Emma?” she asked, shyly.

Emma smiled widely. “If Miss Flora doesn’t mind,” she answered. “It is her shop after all.”

The woman smiled indulgently and turned toward the child. “Of course not, my dear! Please come in.” Alice came through the drapes as Flora mumbled under her breath about other items Emma would need to round out her wardrobe.

Alice’s eyes lit up at the day dress Emma wore. A soft smile touched Miss Flora’s lips as Alice came closer.

“You were absolutely right, Miss Alice,” she said. “This dress is perfect on our lovely Emma. It really brings out your eyes,” she said, turning her attention back to Emma again. Her eyes twinkled and Emma smiled softly at the complement.

After that, it was nothing but Miss Flora measuring Emma every which way she could be measured. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine all that went into making a lady’s wardrobe. Miss Fauna brought in swatch after swatch of fabric for Emma to choose from and also helped settle her sisters when an argument arose between them about which color- a soft sky blue, or a blushing pink- would better compliment Emma’s fair complexion.

By the end of it all, Emma was ready for a meal and a bed. She’d been on her feet for hours as the ladies brought out dress after dress- with all the accessories that went along with them- for her to try on both before and after slight alterations were made. The first day dress they’d found when they entered the shop was the only one of the bunch that needed nothing done to it and Emma planned to wear it when they traveled home the next day.

In addition to Emma’s full wardrobe, Killian also made arrangements for Alice’s measurements to be taken as well. She’d grown so much over the summer- much like plants, Miss Flora and Miss Fauna agreed- she was going to need new clothing to see her through the winter. But for now, Alice was simply thrilled with beautiful new ribbons for her hair that matched many of Emma’s new dresses and hair accessories.

It was much too late in the day to try and make it back to Drogheda Station before nightfall, besides the fact the sisters needed a bit more time to complete a few pieces of Emma’s wardrobe. They would be ready in the morning. So the trio made a surprise visit to Misthaven School where Mary Margaret taught.

The sisters embraced joyfully before Emma introduced Killian and Alice to Mary Margaret.

“Mary Margaret,” she began, “This is Mr. Jones and his daughter, Alice. Mr. Jones, my sister, Mary Margaret.”

Killian extended his hand for Mary Margaret to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Mary Margaret. My daughter, Alice,” he said, motioning toward Alice, who dropped a slight curtsey.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Mary Margaret,” she said, smiling shyly.

“And you, Miss Alice,” she replied with a nod, her smile warm and welcoming.

They spent a pleasant evening in one another’s company. Once they were past the introductions, Alice blossomed under Mary Margaret’s attention, telling her new friend all about everything Emma was teaching her and how much she enjoyed it. Even with as tired as Emma was, when their time together was drawing to an end, she was loath to leave her sister’s presence, knowing it would be a long while before she’d be able to visit again.

The sisters embraced warmly and even Alice threw her arms around Mary Margaret’s middle in a surprise hug that was completely unexpected by all the adults.

“It was lovely to meet you, Miss Mary Margaret,” Alice said, releasing her. She turned unsure eyes upon her father, not quite certain how he’d react to her lack of decorum. But the smile on his face told her all was well. A relieved smile broke over her face as she turned back to her new friend and dropped a curtsey before returning quickly to her father’s side.

“You as well, Miss Alice,” Mary Margaret replied, her attention then turning to Mr. Jones. “Thank you so much for this wonderful surprise, Mr. Jones. It’s only been a couple of weeks since we’ve seen each other, but I’ve missed Emma so much.” She placed a hand over her heart, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes, matching her sister’s as she glanced at her. “I had no idea how much I was going to miss her.” Mary Margaret’s attention returned to Mr. Jones as she extended her hand. “I cannot thank you enough.”

“It was my pleasure, Miss Mary Margaret.” He took her hand and shook it before glancing at Emma and Alice. “And now we must take our leave before these two collapse. It has been a very long and tiring day for us all.”

“Of course,” Mary Margaret agreed, reaching for her sister one more time. “I’ll see you again soon and we can write in the meantime.”

Emma nodded, too choked up for speech. She pulled back and turned to where Killian stood with Alice, her arm looped through his. He smiled gently at her and Emma returned it, licking her lips that had suddenly become dry as she approached and looped her arm through his offered arm before they walked out toward their waiting carriage.

Mary Margaret smiled as she watched them go. Thankful that just as her life had turned around since leaving Ireland, it appeared her sister’s life had done the same.

~*~*~

“Goodnight, Alice,” Emma murmured, rising from the child’s bed in the hotel room Mr. Jones had booked them for the night.

“Goodnight, Miss Emma,” Alice replied as she snuggled down under the homespun quilt that covered her bed. Emma was too wound up to sleep just yet, so she crossed the room to where a small sofa sat near the door and sat down. She picked up her journal that lay on the small end table and began to write.

What a wonderful day it was. Our visit to F F & M Haberdashers was like a dream. The clothing on display was simply beautiful. The fabrics were so soft and the colors so bright and lovely. I thought we were abundantly blessed with the items we brought with us from Ireland, but the wardrobe Mr. Jones purchased for me today is so much more than I ever dreamed.

Emma tapped her quill against her chin as she thought about her next words. Her mouth opened slightly and she took a deep shaky breath as she told herself that these words were hers alone. No one else would ever be privy to them, and so she could write down exactly what her thoughts and feelings were as she tried on the different dresses and showed them to Alice and Mr. Jones. She licked her suddenly dry lips and continued writing.

I felt a bit like Cinderella in her beautiful ball gown, with Miss Flora, Miss Fauna, and Miss Meriweather as my fairy godmothers, and Mr. Jones standing in for the prince. Emma’s cheeks heated as she wrote those last words. She cut her eyes over to the bed where Alice was comfortably in the arms of sleep before she re-inked the quill and put it to paper again. Mr. Jones is obviously not a prince, but the way he looked at me with each new garment I tried on made my heart stop. His eyes are so clear and so blue. They’re beautiful and I could get lost in them. She shook her head, trying to banish the fanciful musings from her mind. He was an established landowner and she was only a governess. There’d never be anything between them. But the parallels between the story of Cinderella and my life are clear. A girl with nothing is suddenly given everything. Oh, how I wish… She stopped again, utterly unable to put those deep and hidden desires of her heart into words on the page.

Music reached her ears as she closed her journal and laid it back on the end table. It had been a very long day, but thinking back on all the joy the day had brought, Emma knew it would be some time before she’d be able to sleep. She rose from the sofa and glanced back at Alice, satisfied to see her still sound asleep and slipped out of the door. Mr. Jones was in the adjoining room in case Alice cried out and she’d only be gone a few minutes. Just long enough to find where the beautiful melody was coming from. She descended the stairs to the main lobby of the hotel, following the lovely music to a grand ballroom.

As Emma entered, she saw many couples dancing out in the middle of the floor, while several tables laden with all kinds of sumptuous looking delicacies lined the walls of the room. There appeared to be about a hundred people in the lavishly decorated room, soft candlelight illuminating the space, giving it an almost otherworldly quality. Then her eyes landed on the obviously newly married couple in the center of the dance floor.

They were a truly beautiful couple. Both with blonde hair, hers was piled on top of her head in an elaborate style, held together with strings of pearls woven throughout that echoed the ones sewn on her gorgeous white gown. His countenance appeared to be chiseled from marble, the lines of his face perfect in every way. Normally, Emma would think of marble as cold and unyielding, however, he was anything but as he gazed at his bride. They had eyes only for each other. Their matching smiles were full of joy and love and her heart melted inside her.

“They’re a beautiful couple aren’t they?” a voice whispered from behind her, startling her. She turned, a gasp on her lips and her hand pressed to her heart, to find Mr. Jones standing just behind her, a soft smile on his lips.

“I didn’t see you there, Mr. Jones,” she murmured before glancing back into the room. She smiled as her eyes found the bride and groom again. “Yes, yes they are. Do you know them?” The question flew out of her mouth before she really had a chance to think about it, but she couldn’t think of any other reason for him to be down here. Perhaps he’d been invited to the lavish affair and he’d come down to offer his congratulations since he hadn’t been able to attend the ceremony.

Mr. Jones chuckled in amusement. “No,” he informed her. “This is old Sydney money. I’d never be invited to something like this.” He scratched behind his ear just as he had that morning at the haberdashers and his cheeks turned red. Emma couldn’t help but smile at the nervous mannerism. “My money is much too new for me to be considered a part of the upper echelons of Sydney society. Which this clearly is,” he said, motioning back toward the room. “But I heard the music, and wanted to see where it was coming from.”

“I see.” She paused for a moment as they both continued to watch. “It was the same for me. Alice was asleep, and I only planned on being out of the room for just a few minutes, so I followed it down here.”

They were both silent for a few minutes, simply enjoying the soaring melody of the string quartet and harpsichord.

“This reminds me of my wedding day to Milah,” Mr. Jones said softly. She turned confused eyes on him as he continued. “Not the setting obviously, we were too poor for that, but the way they’re looking at each other. Like there’s no one else in the world. They could be in the outback, surrounded by sagebrush and dingos and they would still be looking at each other the way they are now.”

A sigh escaped her as she nodded her agreement. “After all the blessings I’ve enjoyed these last few months, it seems almost selfish to hope that I may find a love like that someday.”

“Blessings?” he echoed quietly. “Losing your family and traveling thousands of miles to the other side of the world to face an uncertain future… I’m not sure I’d call them blessings.”

“No disrespect, Mr. Jones,” she replied, “but if you’d seen the workhouse, you might think differently.”

“Point taken,” he said, a genuine smile on his lips.

“But, yes, the blessings,” she emphasized the word with a small smile on her lips, “of a good education before coming here, meeting Ruby and Granny at the Depot, and then coming to work in your home, meeting you and Alice… it’s the best outcome I could have hoped for.”

“There’s nothing wrong with hoping to find love one day, Miss Emma,” he said. “You’re young and beautiful.” His cheeks flushed and he scratched behind his ear again before his eyes settled on hers again. They were the deep blue of the sea, and the way he was looking at her made the butterflies in her stomach take flight and her breath catch. “You’re kind and very intelligent. And just seeing you with my daughter the last couple of weeks, I know that your heart is good. You will make a very blessed man a fine wife someday.”

Emma dropped her gaze from his and she could breathe again. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before she looked up at him again. The intensity she found there was the same as before and she could positively drown in them without a whimper of complaint.

“Th- thank you, Mr. Jones,” she stammered. “I should probably be getting back,” she said, motioning toward the stairs. He smiled and nodded, holding out his elbow to her. She took it and allowed him to escort her back to their adjoining rooms. Being this close to him was doing nothing to calm her racing heart and heated cheeks, but his words downstairs had touched her in such a way that she could hardly say anything in response. When they reached her door, she turned back to him. “Thank you again, Mr. Jones. For everything.” She hoped the gratefulness in her heart showed in her eyes and that he saw it and took her meaning. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Miss Emma.”

She smiled softly as she closed the door, unaware that he lingered there for a moment longer before returning to his own room.

~*~*~

The next few months passed happily. The bond between Emma and Alice only strengthened, and Emma loved her as if she was her own child. They settled quickly into a routine of studies during the morning hours with the afternoons being filled with lessons in manners and comportment, drawing and painting, dancing, and learning to play the pianoforte. Killian was a frequent observer of Alice’s afternoon lessons and Emma couldn’t help the little stutter her heart gave whenever he joined them.

He was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on and even though he was nearly a decade her senior, she couldn’t help but wish that perhaps someday he might come to see her as more than just his daughter’s governess. A personal relationship between a landowner and a lowly governess was very much frowned upon, but she’d been so welcomed into the family by both Alice and Killian himself, she couldn’t stop her imagination running away with dreams of a happy beginning with Killian and Alice.

The only dark cloud in her new life was the stablemaster, Neal Cassidy. He’d never done or said anything overtly inappropriate, but she’d have to be completely blind to be unaware of his lustful gaze whenever she had need to come to the stable. His words and actions toward her were polite, but she could feel his eyes on her whenever he was near, whether that was inside the stable or not. And the shiver of trepidation she felt in his presence warned her to never be alone with him.

Alice’s 8th birthday was soon approaching and she found herself intimately involved in planning a special dinner and party for her young charge. Being so isolated from other children her own age living so far out of town, Alice didn’t have any friends to invite over, so Emma was determined to do what she could to make the day of her birth memorable.

On the Sabbath before Alice’s birthday, Emma traveled into town to visit Mary Margaret, Ruby, and Granny, and also to do some shopping for Alice. She’d made such wonderful progress in her art lessons, Emma thought it was high time for her to have her own set of charcoals and sketch pad. When she’d discussed the idea with Killian, he’d wholeheartedly agreed. He’d been unable to leave the Station to do the shopping himself, so she’d offered to do it for him during her visit. Since the sketch pad and charcoals would be given to Alice by her father, Emma decided to gift the girl a new bonnet and hair ribbons.

She left immediately after breakfast with Will Scarlet, her usual companion when she and Alice had need of the buggy. Thankfully, she had time to complete her shopping before meeting her sister at a local inn for a meal. It had been over two months since their last visit and they embraced warmly before settling at a table in front of the windows.

As they sat down, Emma’s eyes were drawn to a beautiful peridot ring that sat on the third finger of Mary Margaret’s left hand. One hand flew to her mouth in shock as she took her sister’s hand with the other in order to bring it closer.

“Is this what I think it is?” she breathed.

Mary Margaret giggled with delight. “It is!” she exclaimed. “David asked me to marry him! I didn’t want to tell you in a letter and so just waited until our visit!”

At their surprise visit two months ago, Mary Margaret had told her more about the handsome headmaster of her school she’d mentioned their last night in the Depot. He’d made his interest in her clear, but hadn’t yet begun courting her. In the subsequent weeks in between that visit and this one, Mary Margaret had written faithfully to her every week with new developments in their relationship. And now to see the beautiful ring on her sister’s finger, Emma was overjoyed to share in her happiness.

“When is the happy day?” Emma asked.

“August eighteenth,” Mary Margaret gushed. “Once worship is finished, the wedding will take place.” She grabbed both of Emma’s hands in excitement. “Tell me you’ll be able to come.”

“Of course, I will! I wouldn’t miss it for anything!” Emma exclaimed. “I’m sure Killian wouldn’t mind. In fact, I’m not sure he wouldn’t want to accompany me. Alice as well,” she said.

“We’d make them most welcome,” Mary Margaret assured her sister, speculative thoughts swirling through her mind.

She was so excited to share her joyous news, that she almost missed the longing and hopeful look on Emma’s face when she mentioned that Killian might want to join her for the wedding. When they met two months ago, Emma introduced him as Mr. Jones and in her letters, she always referred to him the same way, but that little slip of the tongue made Mary Margaret wonder if there was more between them than what her beloved younger sister had heretofore expressed. Perhaps some subtle questioning was in order.

“Killian, huh? When did you start calling him Killian?” Emma’s mouth fell open, clearly just realizing she’d called her employer by his first name instead of Mr. Jones. The blush spread across her cheeks and her eyes cut away making Mary Margaret smile indulgently before continuing. “It’s clear from your letters that you are happy there, and that you love Alice, but tell me more about Killian. We only had those couple of hours together when you were here last time. What is he like?”

Emma’s face took on a faraway look. One that told Mary Margaret definitively that her sister was in love. She’d been teased about her own similar look quite enough by her colleagues the past couple of months. Her heart melted at the knowledge and she could only hope Killian Jones shared her sister’s regard.

Emma began telling her about him in fits and starts that only made Mary Margaret’s certainty about her sister’s feelings for her employer all the more steadfast. Emma told her how kind he was, how honorable he was, how well she was treated in his household. The attributes she described reminded Mary Margaret very much of her David and she sent up a prayer that Emma would find love with Mr. Killian Jones. It may have been frowned upon in society, but Mary Margaret believed in love with her whole heart and that love was a part of all happiness. She didn’t want societal norms to get in the way of true love, and so she happily ignored those norms and hoped and prayed for that happiness for her sister, no matter what society thought.

The rest of their visit flew by, including tea with Granny and Ruby back at the Depot. It was the first time the sisters had been back to visit with them since leaving three months prior. Ruby had her own news to share as the General Store owner, Graham Humbert, had finally begun courting her and she was hopeful he’d ask for her hand in the next few weeks.

All too soon, the sisters had to take their leave and Emma had to journey back to Drogheda Station. Tears and hugs between the four were had in abundance as well as promises not to wait for three months before coming back for another visit. Once Emma was safely ensconced in the carriage that would carry her home, she waved out the window at her sister, Ruby, and Granny. When they were out of sight, she settled back and closed her eyes for the long journey.

It had been a wonderful day, but she was ready to return home to her charge and prepare for Alice’s birthday on Tuesday. Killian would be leaving Wednesday morning for an extended trip into Queensland, New Guinea, and New Zealand to look for new shipping markets for the wool and meat Drogheda Station provided. Robin would be standing in Killian’s stead with the day to day operations of the Station while he was gone. She hadn’t had much occasion to really interact with him over the months she’d been there, but he always treated her like a gentleman should and Emma felt no unease about him with Killian gone. She’d certainly miss Killian though. Which was why she wanted Alice’s birthday celebration to be so special. Both for the child and for her father.

~*~*~

Alice’s birthday was as perfect an autumn day as one could wish for, much like the actual day of her birth. It was Killian’s favorite time of year, both for celebrating Alice’s birth and the change of the seasons. The heat of the Australian summer was now fully behind them but the cold winter months were as yet a way off. Losing his wife, just over a year ago now, had obviously cast a pall over his daughter’s birthday last year, but Emma was determined that they’d make new, happier memories to replace the sad ones from their loss the year before. She wanted to make sure Alice was fully celebrated, as she deserved to be.

Emma had begun the day foregoing Alice’s regular studies for the special day, and had instead enlisted her help in the kitchen to assist with the preparations for tonight’s celebratory dinner. Alice was thrilled to help and Killian had been unceremoniously shooed out of the room, his ladies insisting he’d only be in the way.

His ladies.

Dangerous thoughts, those.

But Killian really couldn’t help them. Since Emma had joined his household three months prior, he thought of his beloved Milah- Alice’s mother- less and less. His heartache at losing her had finally begun to heal.

As he watched Emma with Alice during their lessons, his heart would be fit to explode with happiness at seeing the clear love and affinity between them. Alice positively blossomed under Emma’s gentle tutelage. She was so smart and eager to learn that she excelled in every subject she and Emma had undertaken. Just last week, Emma had come to him to discuss accelerating her studies to keep Alice’s insatiable appetite for learning appeased. He couldn’t have asked for a better governess for his precious daughter.

The more time he spent with them, and Emma in particular, the more he realized that the regard with which he held Emma was not entirely of the type a man like him should have for a woman like her. Her beauty never failed to make his breath stutter and his heart rate to increase dramatically. Her grace and mannerisms endeared her to him in a way he’d not experienced since he’d met Milah. Her love for his daughter, her quiet and gentle spirit, in spite of the circumstances she’d faced in her short life spoke to a strength of character that was astounding in one so young. His heart was in imminent danger of becoming hers forever, but societal norms wouldn’t look kindly upon a romantic relationship between them. He’d be more than willing to throw off the conventions of society- he didn’t have much contact with society in the first place- if he knew for sure what her feelings were toward him.

She’d never turned him away when he requested to watch them during their lessons, though he would have expected her to be a little nervous to have him as such a frequent observer. Thinking back on the last few months, he realized his requests had become progressively more frequent as time went on. Why, this month alone, he believed he’d observed them just about every other day. And as he did, his own regard for the lovely young woman in his employ only grew. And if he wasn’t mistaken, Emma seemed to be quite pleased when he did request to join them. Her smile seemed wider, the sparkle in her eyes just a bit more apparent. Perhaps she did hold some affection for him- and not of the familial type.

Perhaps tonight, after Alice’s birthday celebrations, he could have a private word with the lovely Emma Swan.

~*~*~

The birthday dinner was a complete success. Alice told him all about the different things she’d done to help prepare the meal. Of course, Cook and the other kitchen staff took care of the heavy lifting, so to speak, but Alice was thrilled when she’d been allowed- with Emma’s close supervision of course- to help chop the vegetables for the lamb stew they dined on, and then Emma had taught her how to make the Irish soda bread native to her homeland. The meal was completed by plum pudding that Alice helped prepare by doing all the mixing of ingredients before pouring it into the mold. The single candle in the middle of the pudding for Alice to blow out was as bright as her smile and Killian and Emma, as well as the other staff, all cheered when she successfully blew it out after shutting her eyes for a moment and making a wish.

Once the pudding was consumed, Killian and Emma gave Alice their birthday gifts. Alice was delighted with the new bonnet and hair ribbons and asked if they could have a picnic the next day so she’d have occasion to wear it. The sketch pad and charcoals were received with utter shock. Tears gathered in the corners of the child’s eyes and Emma worried for a moment that she wasn’t pleased with the gift. When Killian explained that it had been Emma’s idea given how well she was doing in her drawing lessons, Alice flung herself into first Emma’s and then her father’s arms sobbing out her joy and elation at having her very own sketch pad that she could use anytime she wanted, to draw anything she wanted.

As Emma and Alice were leaving the room to prepare for bed, Killian cleared his throat drawing both their attentions.

“Yes, Papa?” Alice asked.

Killian smiled softly at them. “Happy birthday, Starfish.”

Alice let go of Emma’s hand and ran to her father, throwing her arms around his waist. “Thank you, Papa. It was the best birthday ever.” Killian lifted his eyes to Emma’s and mouthed Thank you to her. She nodded and smiled before turning back towards the door of the room.

“Uh, Emma?”

Emma turned back toward Killian and Alice, who’d released her father and was walking back towards her.

“Yes, Mr. Jones?”

“Could you join me in my office after our evening prayers?”

“Of course.”

Emma couldn’t help but wonder why he wanted to see her. She’d have to curb her curiosity for the next hour as she and Alice went through her bedtime routine before Killian would join them to kiss his daughter goodnight and pray with them. Could he perhaps wish to tell her goodbye personally before he left for six weeks? She’d find out soon enough.

~*~*~

Emma preceded Killian into his office and he shut the doors behind them.

“Please, sit down, Emma,” he invited. She sat down in front of his desk as he moved behind it. He sat down and clasped his hands on top of it, just as he had the day they met.

“You may be wondering why I’ve asked you here,” he said. “I, ah…” he paused and scratched behind his ear. It was a terribly endearing gesture and Emma couldn’t help the smile that broke over her lips at his action.

“I do have to admit, I am curious,” she replied, still smiling softly.

“Well…” he cleared his throat and reached up to loosen his collar just a bit. “As you know, I’m leaving in the morning and will be gone for about six weeks.” His eyes finally met hers and Emma felt her breath leave her completely. His gaze was so intense. So clear. So blue. She could happily drown in them. She was shaken out of her disjointed musings when Killian rose and came around the desk to kneel next to her chair. Emma gasped as he took her hand in his own and met her gaze again.

“Emma, since you’ve come to Drogheda Station…” He looked down at their joined hands before beginning again. “Emma, your presence here…” he paused again, at a loss of how to continue, “...has been most welcome. You came to Drogheda Station and became a part of my family. Mine and Alice’s. You have fit in with us seamlessly and I have difficulty remembering a time when it was just me and Alice.”

Emma didn’t know what to say, but after a shaky exhale, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve become my family, too. You and Alice.”

He looked down at their clasped hands again, a light blush coloring his cheeks.

“Alice loves you dearly, and I…” His clear blue eyes met hers again and Emma’s chest tightened so much, the gasp she released was more of a sob. “I never thought I’d be able to let go of my Milah. Until I met you.” His voice was just above a whisper and Emma could see tears gathered in the corner of his eyes as he raised his hand to her face. He cupped her chin, and drew her face close to his. “Emma, may I have your permission to court you when I return from my journey?”

Emma’s breath left her on a sharp exhale. She couldn’t believe it. He wanted to court her. All her hopes and dreams were right in front of her and all she had to do was reach out and grasp them.

“Yes, Mr. Jones,” she whispered.

He looked down and chuckled. “Perhaps under the circumstances, you should call me Killian,” he said just before his lips captured her own. It was everything she’d ever dreamed of. It was fire and ice, sweetness and passion, strength and vulnerability all wrapped in a single sensuous package. She’d never been kissed before and had no idea how it could melt her insides and send her soaring at the same time.

This was affection and tenderness.

This was yearning and devotion.

This was hopes and dreams for the future.

This… was love.

Long moments later, Killian pulled back and Emma could breathe again. They remained close, the warm breath from his lips caressing hers just as his mouth had moments ago.

“I must insist that you retire to your room now, Emma,” he said. “I am a gentleman, but you are already testing my resolve.” Emma felt a thrill of feminine pride go through her at his words and she rose to her feet, Killian following.

He took her hands in his own again and raised them both to his lips, kissing the backs of her hands and her knuckles before turning them over and kissing her on the center of each palm.

She lifted one hand to his face and gently cradled his chin. “Goodnight. Stay safe. Come back to me, Killian.”

“I will come back to you, Emma,” he promised her. He turned his face into her hand and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist, sending a sweet shiver up her spine. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving. Goodnight, my love. Until we meet again.”

He released her hand and she walked to the doors of the room, turning back one last time to look at the man she loved. She left the room, determined to keep the gathered tears from falling until she was in the privacy of her room, where she would begin counting the days until she’d see him again.

~*~*~

Wednesday was another perfect autumn day. Just right for Emma and Alice to be able to enjoy a picnic by the creek at the edge of the pasture. They were up early enough to bid Killian farewell, but once his carriage was out of sight, they returned to the house and began Alice’s morning lessons.

Having Killian gone was proving to be quite a distraction to her young charge and Emma had to refocus Alice’s attention on her studies more than once throughout the morning hours. When she finally deemed Alice getting close enough to finishing her work that she could be left alone for a few moments, Emma rose.

“I’m going to go gather up our picnic lunch and head on out to the stable to inform them to get the horses ready so we can head straight out as soon as you’re done with your work, alright, Alice?”

Alice looked up and smiled, nodding her head enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Can I trust you to attend to your work without me here? You’re almost done.” Emma hated to ask the question, but with the level of distraction present this morning, she had to have an affirmative answer before she’d leave Alice alone.

“Yes, Miss Emma,” Alice promised. “I’ll be finished in just a few minutes.”

“Very well, come to the stable as soon as you’re done. Don’t forget your new bonnet,” Emma teased with a smile.

Alice patted the bonnet that sat on the side of her desk and smiled widely. “I won’t.”

Emma left Alice alone and went down to the kitchen to find the picnic lunch Cook had prepared for them. She found boiled eggs, roast mutton, and root vegetables inside the sturdy basket. There was also the left over soda bread from the party the night before.

She picked up the basket and walked out the back of the house toward the stable. She sat the basket on the ground outside the door and stepped inside.

It was quiet in the stable and Emma wondered if the stable hands were all at lunch. It was no matter. She had watched the hands prepare their horses many times over the last few months and was fairly confident she could saddle the horses herself.

She’d just finished saddling Alice’s pony when she turned to see the stablemaster standing in the door of the stall. Her breath caught, very much aware they were alone in the stable.

She dropped a small curtsey and then met his gaze. Fear skittered across her skin, raising gooseflesh in its wake.

“Mr. Cassidy?” she asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. One thing she’d learned out here in the bush the last three months, when a predator smelled fear, they attacked. “Did you need something?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, raising his eyebrows slightly, “I need something all right.” His voice was pitched low with an edge of something Emma couldn’t identify. It made her heart rate pick up even more than the initial fright his appearance had caused. He looked out into the main area of the stable. “Where’s Alice?”

Emma swallowed thickly. “She’s just outside waiting for me to saddle our horses for a picnic. She wanted to wear her new bonnet I gave her for her birthday yesterday.”

“Really? I didn’t see her outside when I came in.” He turned back toward her and took a step into the stall, his gaze now lewd, his smile lecherous. “I think you’re lying to me, Emma.”

His use of her name instead of Miss Swan sent Emma into a panic. Alice would be out here any moment, and if she could placate him somehow, perhaps she’d be able to escape with her innocence and dignity intact.

“Yes, you’re right, Mr. Cassidy,” she admitted on a shaky exhale, her stomach rolling with her fear and anxiety over the situation she found herself in. “Alice is inside finishing up her morning studies. She’ll be out for our picnic lunch any moment.”

“Oh, a moment is all I need,” he muttered, a sneer on his lips. He lunged for her, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her outside the stall, slamming the gate closed so the pony couldn’t escape. He spun her around and pressed her up against the side of the stall. Emma tasted blood and closed her eyes, lifting a prayer that Alice would be delayed just a few more minutes… for both their sakes.

~*~*~

Alice skipped out the back door of the house toward the stable to see Miss Emma running towards her. She couldn’t see her very well because of the distance, but Alice realized immediately something wasn’t right. Once she was close enough to really see, she saw Miss Emma was hurt. There was a dark bruise high on the side of her face and her lip was split and very swollen. The beautiful golden hair that Alice so admired was falling out of the braid they’d worked on so carefully this morning, and there was a rip in the bodice of her dress, exposing the shift and corset underneath. Her eyes were red and swollen, like she’d been crying.

“Miss Emma, what’s wrong?” Alice exclaimed. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she gasped. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine. I tripped and fell inside the stable, catching my face on the side of Dinah’s stall. I just need to go inside and get this all cleaned up. We’ll have to do the picnic another day. I’m sorry, Alice.”

“Of course,” Alice agreed. She’d been looking forward to their picnic, but taking care of Miss Emma was more important. She took the basket from her and turned back toward the house.

“Don’t say anything to anyone about this, okay, Alice?” Miss Emma asked in a low murmur. If she hadn’t been standing so close to her, she probably wouldn’t have heard it.

Alice looked up into her beloved governess’ face. There was a look in her eyes she’d never seen before- it almost made Alice afraid- but she knew that Miss Emma loved her and would do anything to protect her. Just like her Papa. In the last year, Alice’s memory of her mother was beginning to fade. She could no longer remember her voice or the color of her eyes. But the feelings provoked in her by thoughts of her mother were now wrapped in the golden light of memory- hazy at the edges, but sharp in their recollection. In the absence of the woman who’d raised her, the love and loyalty and obedience given to her was now being transferred to Miss Emma. If Miss Emma didn’t want anyone to know what had happened in the stable, then Alice would obey her.

Alice nodded her head slowly, willing to do anything she asked. “Yes, ma’am.”

~*~*~

The six weeks were finally over and her Papa was coming home today! He’d never been away from home so long, and while, of course, she had Miss Emma caring for her, she’d missed her Papa desperately. Getting letters from him every week helped some, but she couldn’t wait to actually see him and hug him and hear the tales of all his travels and everything he’d done and seen. She was absolutely beside herself and Miss Emma finally gave up trying to keep her focused on her studies. Alice glanced at her and saw the paleness that had been so evident the last week or so was even more pronounced today.

“Miss Emma, why don’t you go lie down and rest?” she asked. “I’ll draw in my sketchbook and I promise that I’ll wake you as soon as Papa arrives home.”

Miss Emma put a hand on her stomach, closed her eyes, and sighed. “You know, my sweet Alice, I think I will do exactly that. As excited as I am that your Papa is coming home today…” Her statement was interrupted by a huge yawn, “I am exhausted. You’re sure you’ll be ok on your own here for a little while?”

Alice grinned, eager to set Miss Emma’s mind at ease. “I’m sure. You go rest.”

She nodded and moved into the next room, leaving the door open so she could wake quickly if she was needed. Alice could see her lie down on her bed from where she sat and in moments, Miss Emma was snoring softly.

Alice got out her sketchbook and charcoals and began to sketch as she waited for her Papa to arrive.

Suddenly, there was a loud commotion outside. It may have felt like it was only a few minutes, but it must have been at least an hour given how much of the picture she was drawing was completed. Miss Emma always laughed at how caught up she’d get in her sketching that she wasn’t aware of any time passing at all, and that had certainly happened again today. The picture of Miss Emma asleep on her bed was nearly finished, but the sound of a carriage outside was difficult to miss. Alice looked out the window and flew from the room, her promise to wake Emma completely forgotten.

“Papa, Papa!” she cried, bursting from the door and flinging herself into his arms. He laughed and spun her around, hugging her tightly.

Killian pulled back and looked into his daughter’s face. Oh, how he had missed her. It had been a productive and successful trip, but he couldn’t tolerate being away from the ones he loved that long ever again.

“You know, Starfish,” he said, “I do believe you’ve grown a foot since I left!”

Alice smirked, recognizing his teasing tone, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks.

“Oh, Papa,” she scolded lightly. “ You know I haven’t.”

“Where’s Miss Emma?” he asked, searching the front of the house for her, eager to see the woman he loved again.

“She’s lying down and resting, Papa,” Alice informed him.

“Resting?” he asked, confused. “At this time of day?” He looked at his daughter and caught her furrowed brow. “What’s the matter, Starfish? Is there something wrong?”

He moved toward the front of the house and Alice clung to his neck as he carried her inside. He walked straight to his room and deposited her on the bed. He pulled off his boots and sat next to her.

“Did something happen, Starfish? Why the furrowed brow?” He smoothed his thumb over her forehead until the lines disappeared and she looked up at him with love and happiness at his return shining in her eyes.

“I missed you so much, Papa,” she said, hugging him tightly again.

Killian returned her embrace. “I missed you too, my love. Now tell me what’s troubling you.”

Alice pressed her lips into a thin line, almost as if she was hesitant to say what was on her mind.

“Alice,” he urged, using her name instead of her nickname to impress on her the seriousness of his words, “You can tell me anything.”

Her blue eyes met his and Killian found himself a bit nervous to hear what she had to say. He hadn’t said anything to her about courting Emma before he’d left. Could Emma have said something to her? And perhaps Alice wasn’t as happy as he’d thought she’d be?

“There’s something wrong with Miss Emma,” she said. It was the last thing he’d expected to come out of her mouth and Killian had to double check to make sure he’d heard her correctly.

“Something wrong? With Miss Emma?” Alice nodded. “What is it?”

“She hasn’t been feeling well.”

“How has she not been feeling well?” Alice shrugged, and Killian pressed. “What exactly makes you say she hasn’t been feeling well?”

“She’s tired all the time,” she explained. “She hasn’t been waking up with me in the morning, I’ve had to come in and wake her to help me with my hair. She’s been sick, too. She tries to hide it, but I know that she’s been sick in the morning after breakfast. And sometimes after lunch and dinner, too.”

“How long has this been going on, Starfish?”

Alice shrugged again. “Since not long after you left.”

“And you say she’s asleep now?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded.

“Ok, as soon as she wakes up- don’t wake her up yourself, understand, Starfish?- tell her I’d like to see her in my office.” Killian gathered his daughter in his arms and hugged her tightly. “Let me get unpacked, and you go down and ask what Cook has planned for dinner.”

“Yes, Papa.” Alice skipped out of the room and Killian frowned.

After stating his intentions before leaving, he was sure she held him in the same regard as he held her. He had a lot of trouble believing that she would betray him. But, if what he suspected was going on with Emma was correct, he was going to need some answers. Answers that only Emma had.

~*~*~

It was another hour before a knock sounded on his office door.

“Enter,” he called.

The door opened and Alice bounded in followed by Emma. It was a very good thing that Alice was here to distract him slightly, because if she hadn’t been, his jaw would have dropped in shock and dismay.

Emma was sick.

There was no doubt.

She looked to have lost a stone since he’d been gone. The dress she wore hung on her overly thin frame. Her skin was pale and her hair hung limply around her face. Even though she’d just awoken, it was clear that she was utterly exhausted. She looked like a stiff winter breeze would blow her over.

“Thank you, Alice,” he said, giving her a big hug and kiss. “Would you go ask Cook to prepare some ginger tea and some sandwiches for myself and Miss Emma?”

“Yes, Papa.”

She skipped out of the doors of his office leaving Killian alone with the woman he loved.

“Emma,” he breathed, moving toward her, his hand outstretched.

“Killian.” Her smile trembled, her tear filled gaze holding all the love and longing he hoped to see. She took his hand and he pulled her close, enveloping her in his arms. He held her tightly, turning his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent, imprinting her on his soul. This was his Emma and whatever had happened, he was sure she hadn’t betrayed him.

He gathered her in his arms and sat in the chair in front of his desk, still holding her closely on his lap.

“You’re with child.” It was a statement, not a question. With the evidence in her body before him and Alice’s observations, Killian had no doubt.

Emma buried her face in his neck, unable to meet his piercing gaze. He may have said he loved her and wanted to court her, but with the reality of him knowing that she carried another man’s child, there was no way under heaven that he would still want her. That he would still allow her to remain as governess to his daughter.

“Emma, look at me.” She felt his finger under her chin, exerting subtle pressure, urging her to lift her gaze to his. She allowed him to lift her chin, but once he stopped, she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. To tell him the truth. “Emma, please.”

It was the pleading in his voice that finally broke her resolve. She opened her tear filled eyes to behold the same in his.

“Tell me what happened.”

Taking a deep breath, the entire thing spilled out of her. She’d kept it bottled up, buried, never again to see the light of day. But with the growing certainty that she was with child, she knew it was only a matter of time before Killian found out and her life as she knew it would be over. Killian would surely send her away and she’d lose her family again. But as she told him everything, he continued to hold her close, stroking her hair tenderly even as his eyes cycled through sorrow, fury, dismay and finally settled on controlled fortitude.

He looked her in the eyes, love and devotion swirling in their depths, and cupped her face in his hands. “Emma, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this happened. I never should have left. If I’d been here, this never would have happened.”

“Killian, no,” she replied. “You can’t blame yourself. This trip was necessary for your and Alice’s future.” She paused for a moment, her unsure gaze meeting his. Did he still love her? “For our future,” she stuttered, haltingly.

He smiled gently. “Yes, Emma. For our future. I love you and you have nothing to fear. Either from the future or him. I will stand by you. I will marry you, and claim the child as my own. If you’ll have me.”

At his words, Emma could hold back her tears no longer.

“I love you, Killian,” she sobbed. “And yes, I will be yours forever. I want nothing more than to be your wife, and a mother to Alice.”

“You can stay here with me while I confront him, or you can wait outside,” he told her. “I will not force you to remain in the room with him, unless you wish it.”

Emma shook her head. “I’ve stayed as far away from him as I could since it happened. And I’d just as soon as never lay eyes on him again.”

“Very well, then. Wait in the parlor while I send for him. I’ll come to you when he’s gone.”

Emma nodded, rose, and left the room.

~*~*~

Killian sat behind his desk when there was a knock on the doors.

“Enter.”

The door opened and Neal Cassidy walked in.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?”

Killian didn’t look up, but continued to peruse the correspondence in front of him. After waiting for several long moments, he finally met Cassidy’s gaze with a hard stare. He didn’t invite him to sit. He wanted the man to be on his feet for what was about to happen.

“I understand from Miss Emma…” He paused for a moment to see if the mention of Emma’s name provoked any reaction from the man in front of him. He wasn’t surprised to see nothing but a slight widening of his eyes and a muscle tic in his jaw. “That you violated her in a most disgusting and vile manner. What have you to say for these charges?”

Neal snorted in derision. “You’re going to believe some Irish whore…”

Killian rose from behind his desk and slammed both his fists down on the surface. The move was so sudden, Neal choked on his words.

“Don’t you ever say such things about my intended.” His words were low and deadly and Neal Cassidy got just a glimpse of how much trouble he was truly in. “Yes, I believe her. Because she is the epitome of honesty and integrity. The authorities have already been notified. They’ll be here within the hour. If you are not off my property by then, they’ve been given leave to shoot to kill. I’d hurry, if I were you.”

“I’ll hurry all right.”

Neal reached for the gun at his hip, but Killian was ready for him. He got his shot off first, hitting Cassidy in the gut. He fell to the floor, but still got his own shot off, just grazing Killian’s left bicep. A hiss of pain left his lips as Killian walked around his desk to see the man writhing in agony before him, his pistol on the ground. He knew the wound he’d inflicted was deadly, but that it could be hours, perhaps even days before it would eventually kill him. And as pleased as that would have made him- for Cassidy to have just a taste of the suffering he’d inflicted on Emma, and thus on him- he knew that as long as that gun was within reach, he was still a threat. Killian leveled his own pistol in front of him and shot Cassidy right in the middle of the forehead. A thin trickle of blood leaked from the hole, down the bridge of his nose, his sightless eyes fixed on the ceiling.

The door to his study crashed open as Emma ran in, followed by Robin.

“What the hell happened?” he cried.

Emma flung herself into his arms and buried her face in his neck.

“I’m alright, Love. You’re safe now.”

Emma sobbed into Killian’s neck barely conscious of him lifting her in his arms and going around to his desk chair where he sat down, holding her close and murmuring words of comfort in her ear. She only knew that when she’d heard two gunshots in quick succession, she’d feared the worst. She’d run from the parlor and had heard the third gunshot just as she’d burst through the doors. She was hardly aware of Robin wrapping the body in a white sheet and dragging him out as Killian continued to hold and comfort her.

She felt something wet under her hand. She drew back, her mouth dropping in a horrified Oh when she saw the tear in Killian’s shirt from the bullet and the blood soaking into the fabric.

“You’re shot!” she cried.

“Tis merely a scratch, darling.” He smiled disarmingly at her. “I got him first.”

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed, quickly unbuttoning his shirt so she could get a better look at the wound. Once she got the shirt open and off him, she looked at the injury with a critical eye. “It doesn’t need stitches, but it does need to be cleaned and bandaged.”

She turned to Robin who’d returned from disposing of the trash and asked for a few items that would help her accomplish that. As soon as he left, she turned back to Killian.

“I wish it hadn’t come to that, Emma,” he said, sorrow and apology obvious in his eyes and tone. “But there’s nothing I won’t do to keep you safe. To keep the ones I love safe.”

“I know, Killian,” she breathed. She dropped her forehead down to his and closed her eyes. “And I’m so thankful to be counted among those you love.”

Her lips found his in a gentle caress designed to show him everything in her heart that she couldn’t put into words.

As he held her close and deepened the kiss, Emma’s heart soared. This was her Killian. The man she loved. She was his forever and an orphan girl no longer.

The End ~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading and sharing! I'd love to know what you think!

#orphan girl #krystal writes #art by krystal #inspired by the song

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ohbx · 1 year

Text

Partnered Up

A JJ x Reader Slow Burn Fic

Author's notes:

This is pretty much PG (with a touch of PG-13, maybe some swearing, mentions of abuse as in the context of the show). No warnings, except it being over 4k words & unedited. I wrote in first person so I just made it a reader insert but I might give the character a name cause she definitely seems like a character. (Y/F/N= Your Friend's name) Also this is a treasure hunt free alternate universe.

Partnered Up

I had obviously noticed JJ and his friends at school. They almost always traveled in a pack. Loud, boisterous and looking like they just rolled up from the beach. Although that was more common than not because I went to public high school on the Outerbanks. Out of his crew, he and John B were especially notorious for leaving a trail of broken hearts throughout the island. Whether it be kooks, pogues, tourons or anyone in between any girl I met knew who they were, and had a crush on one of them at one point or another. While the girls reasoning differed, (Kooks were usually looking for a one night tryst with a bad boy to piss their ex boyfriend off or gain the attention of some kook guy.) the point remained, they were the sleepover talk of girls across the island - every girl secretly thought they would be the one to tie down one of the island boys who were a little rough around the edges.

But now, John B was dating Sarah. A fact that only raised the desperation for JJ throughout the school halls. I could practically hear girls heads turning from their lockers as he made his way down the hall, clutching tattered papers, no backpack in sight. And sure, I understood the appeal. The piercing blue eyes, the charming, shameless flirtation. And of course I had read enough romance novels to understand the “i could fix him” urge for the girls who saw him show up year after year to school with no parents whoever came to end of the year barbecues, busted lips and black eyes monthly, and stoned more often than not. I understood it, I really did. But I didn’t have time to worry about boys. Especially not boys who would never give me a second look. I mean, I had been going to school with him for almost a decade and I doubted he even knew my name. It wasn’t self pity, but rather self awareness, to know a boy like him would never give me the time of day. And for that I never spent that much time worried about what the blonde boy thought of me- since I was pretty sure he didn’t think of me at all. It wasn’t self pity, just self awareness. And for that my self preservation kicked in anytime other girls at the lunch table gossiped about the blonde boy’s smile or dimples - I would have never admitted that I had given him a second glance.

As all high school teachers do, my biology teacher had a penchant for making her class as socially draining as possible. Which meant today when we were being assigned our physiology project for the final 6 weeks of the semester - she announced that she would be assigning us partners instead of letting us pick our own. I glanced longingly at my best friend sitting next to me and slowly rolled my eyes. It would be a lot simpler and more fun if the two of us could just work together. The teacher read out all the pairs and announced my name next to the infamous bad boy himself. JJ Maybank. As the teacher wrapped up her pairings, she projected the topics that each group was assigned to on the board. I slowly and nervously bent over to grab my text book from under my desk. But when I looked up, JJ was already leaning on the desk next to me.

“Hey Y/N - looks like we’re partners,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“Yea!” I replied maybe a bit too enthusiastically.

I offered him my phone number as class was ending for the day and then had to rush to swim practice after school. I told him to just text me before class tomorrow so you could get a jump on planning your project.

After swim practice, as I toweled off at your locker, I picked up my phone to several text notifications from JJ

JJ: Hey y/n it’s JJ Maybank

JJ: Sorry you’re stuck with me as a partner

JJ: Just text me whenever you’re done with swim and we can start a plan

I felt a pit in my stomach. JJ wasn’t known for being the smartest or most studious kid in school but I immediately felt bad that he was apologizing before the project even began. Secondly I was shocked he even knew I was on the swim team.

I quickly crafted a response telling him I was happy to work with him. Trying to keep it casual. Admittedly, that had never been my strong suit when it came to cute boys.

I then texted him that I would do some googling and take some notes about the assigned topic tonight, and we both could chat about it tomorrow.

He replied shockingly fast that he would do the same.

After swim practice the next morning I found myself taking more care in the shower to not smell like chlorine all day and taking a little bit longer on my makeup and hair before I returned to school for first period. I wouldn’t let myself admit that it was because I would be in close proximity to JJ later that day- but deep down that definitely played a factor.

When I got to class that day after saying hi to my best friend, I sat farther towards the back where JJ was already slumped in his chair. He perked up a bit when I sat down next to him. The teacher had given us a free period to discuss and plan our projects , so after a quick hello I took out my notes, and so did JJ.

I offered him my notes to look over while he handed me his but then he cleared his throat promptly.

“I uhhh…” he began sheepishly and then paused.

“I can’t read cursive” he spit out all at once and then half laughed.

I tried to keep my face neutral, and not laugh, as he was clearly looking nervous, but I was confused.

“I uh, I have dyslexia” he quietly offered by way of explanation as he rubbed the back of his neck- not making eye contact.

“Oh!” I tried not to sound surprised or show it on my face. “Here pass me back my notes and we can just discuss what we both learned and then what direction we want to research and create our presentation on.”

JJ just nodded and said “thanks” as he handed we traded notes back.

We spent the next hour or so nerding out and actually having great, very insightful conversation about our disease we were researching, and I scribbled quick messy notes with promises to type them up when we were done so we could both see them on Google docs.

At the end of class everyone rushed out the door at the bell, and I turned quickly with a quick see ya! to JJ on the way out the door.

“Hey Y/n wait” JJ said quickly as he called after me. I spun around to face him.

“Uhh thanks for being so nice and helping me out today. I know you probably wish you had a partner that wasn’t such an idiot"

"You don't need to thank me, you're my partner, we both deserve to be able to work in a way that works for us. Otherwise I wouldn't really be a partner and I'd be a bitch" I said, and I meant it.

JJ had offered some of the best insight you had heard in this class all year. I was confident that he was going to be a good partner for the project despite my initial internal reservations due to his reputation.

JJ just shrugged back at me sheepishly.

"Well, I mean it, thanks. You'd be surprised how few people feel that way. Usually teachers or my group hear that and just decide they'll fail me or do all the work themselves."

"Seriously, you don't have to thank me, I am happy you're my partner, I think things will go well with this project. Sorry - I really gotta go to swim practice. Coach will kill me if I'm late"

He just nodded and offered a brief see ya as I turned and headed down the hall.

It went on this way for a few weeks. We worked tirelessly during class, had a few brief moments of small talk, and then I would rush off to practice. I was secretly thinking about him during the evenings, but I didn't usually hear from him until class the next day.

So imagine my surprise when I powered my phone back on after practice to another two texts from JJ.

JJ: Hey - hope your practice went well!

JJ: I got sidetracked after class

JJ: but I wanted to no if you wanted to come to a party tonite that my friends r having at the boneyard. I know your not a big partier but since its not yet summer it will be pretty low key, you can bring Y/F/N or whoever if you have a bf or something

I found myself smiling slightly to myself with my head in my locker. Y/F/N laughed and asked who was making me blush. I coyly avoided the question... for about 14 seconds until I asked her if she wanted to go to the boneyard tonight.

"Oh so JJ" she joked. "C'mon you cannot be falling for him that is such a bad idea"

"I am NOT falling for him" I rolled my eyes. "We are just becoming friends. Plus I feel like we could use some Friday socialization that doesn't involve chlorine or studying in my living room"

It was late May, and Y/F/N sat on my bed as I deliberated about what I wanted to wear to the party. After a lot of back and forth, I landed on birkenstocks, jean shorts and a tank top. Boring, I know, but it felt the most me, and the most appropriate for the weather.

We decided to walk, as it was only half a mile away, and then we could have a few beers and then walk home after. It's not like my mom was home anyway.

I had texted JJ for the details on when to arrive, but I hadn't expected us to be the first ones there beyond his direct friend group. They quickly ushered us into their circle and we joined in the drinking games they were playing around the bonfire.

Y/F/N was flirting with Pope, and while I didn't think it would go anywhere tonight, I could definitely see them being a cute and nerdy match.

As the party picked up, I was definitely feeling a bit of a buzz from a handful of hard seltzers and beers.

Y/F/N was occupied chatting with Pope and Kiara about who knows what, something scientific that I was too drunk for, so I made my way across the party in search of someone else to chat with.

JJ intercepted me, steadying himself on my arm after we almost collided.

"Wanna walk down the beach?"

I wasn't a big partier, but I definitely knew the insinuation there, and this many drinks in, I couldn't think that far in advance, I think I was just flattered by the invitation.

We broke away from the big group of high schoolers and reached a quieter part of the beach.

"So you're a fast swimmer right?"

"Compared to girls in this county, sure"

"Dont try to be humble, Kiara told me how you're ranked like #3 in all of North Carolina or something"

"#2" I mumbled sheepishly, never good at bragging about myself.

"Damn, so like good?"

"Let's hope so, I am gonna need it to pay for my college"

JJ nodded, thinking something over. A mischevious glint flickered across his eyes.

"Ok let's see it then. Race you out to that swim buoy!?" He challenged, stripping off his shirt and kicking his shoes off already.

As he dove into the calm surf, I peeled off my jean shorts and kicked off your birks. Diving in in just my tank top and thong. I took off swimming messily, but still passed JJ fairly quickly.

I didn't beat him by much, just enough to be standing looking bored when his head popped up at the buoy.

"Damn" he laughed "You got me."

His eyes flitted down to my thick, but definitely more revealing when wet tank top. He took a step closer to me.

For the first time in our friendship, it was silent. He kept a strong eye contact with me as he reached his hands out placing them on my waist, now covered in goosebumps. He pulled himself closer to me or me closer to him, I wasn't even sure my brain was forming coherent thoughts over the sound of my heart fluttering.

And then he kissed me. He kissed me in the way that the world around me went silent and all I could think about was him, and us. I didn't think about the fact I was practically naked about 10 feet from my first party, nor the fact that we were in the ocean at night. Nothing. Just him and us. Not that I had a lot to compare it to, but I knew it was a good kiss.

We continued to make out hands roaming up and down each others upper bodies, until our teeth were chattering and we made our way out of the water.

JJ shook his hair off like a dog before sliding his tee shirt over his head. I shook off suddenly self conscius about my lack of clothes, and slid into my jean shorts. Luckily it was a nice night, so we started to dry off pretty quickly.

Jj snaked his hand through my belt loop and pulled me closer to him. Catching my jaw with his other hand and pulling me into kiss me. I got the vague sense that he had done this before, but not even in a way that I could be jealous, because of how special this moment was making me feel. Well until it wasn't.

"Look Y/n. I like you a lot."

My heart skipped a beat.

"I uh, like you too"

"Do you wanna come back home, er uh, to John B's with me?"

And the other shoe drops. He doesn't actually like me, he just wants me to come hook up with him in his friends guest bedroom. I knew if I did that I would end up feeling temporarily validated, only to be more heartbroken when he inevitably didn't like me at all.

"I cant, I uh, have to walk home with Y/F/N" I said quickly as I started walking back to the party. Tears pricking the corners of my eyes. He followed behind, murmuring his agreement or understanding or something.

I left soon the party after, giving JJ a hasty goodbye hug, before shedding drunk tears on the way home about how he didn't really like me.

The next day I woke up with a pounding headache. I was asleep on the floor of my room and Y/F/N was asleep in my bed. I climbed into it, jostling her awake but I was in need of girl talk.

"So now what?" she asked

" I just like, don't know what to do. He clearly just saw me as another girl, when I had thought we were getting along so well so I guess I will just wait and see if he says anything."

"You could just ask him"

"No way"

My mom was still gone the rest of the weekend, so it was spent going to the beach, and hanging out at home with Y/F/N. I was dreading going back to school on Monday, and I hadn't received a single text from JJ, and knew I had blown my chance.

I arrived in my last period on Monday and slinked my way to the back of the classroom next to JJ. He looked like he hadn't slept since I saw him on Friday. When I sat down he grunted a hello. We pretended that there was nothing we cared about more than our current science project. But we still got almost nothing done. We couldn't agree on which way to go forward, what to dive deeper on, what should be the main focus of our presentation, everything was an argument.

I left the class for practice without saying another thing, barely even a goodbye. I had never swum so fast or hard in my life. Blowing off steam, I buried my head and swam faster splits than I usually swam at meets. I kicked my legs until I couldn't feel the pain in my chest any longer.

I got out of the pool and grabbed my phone out of my locker. I felt my stomach bubble in anticipation of a text but I didn't actually expect one.

The next four days JJ didn't show up to school. Our project was still due in just over a week, so I worked a lot on it in class by myself.

On Friday I finally built up the courage to shoot him a text in the morning when I see he's not there. A few hours went by without a reply. I figure I knew Kie well enough by now, so I asked her if he was ok.

She gave a concerned looking shrug.

"We've heard from him, but he does this sometimes, just kinda drops off the face of the earth and no one can get him to hang out or go to school. Are you worried about your project?"

"He told you about that?"

"Yea he won't shut up about it" Kie laughed " It was all we had heard about for like the past 4 weeks"

TYou exchanged numbers with Kie, and she told me to just text her if I was worried about him or hadnt heard from him by the end of the day and she would try and do a wellness check.

As soon as you sat down for 6th to begin though, JJ had texted me back.

JJ: Sorry I'm not in class. I couldn't.

No further explanation? I wondered to myself

me: Are you ok?

The typing bubbles repeatedly showed up and then disappeared at least 3 times before he responded, completely ignoring your question.

JJ: Can we meet up to talk about the project today? I feel bad I haven't pulled my weight.

Sure I quickly replied.

Me: My place or yours?

he shot back: Cant do mine.

me: that's fine

Then I just texted him my address and the time I would be home from swim practice.

I grabbed a pizza on my way home from swimming. I figured if this was going to be the most awkward friday of my life at least we could have a snack while studying.

I got home, quickly showered, and tried to make myself look semi-presentable in a flannel and jeans, even though I knew that ship had pretty much sailed.

I put the pizza in the oven to stay warm and grabbed a few cokes out of the garage to put on the kitchen island.

By the time I was done, I heard a soft knock on the door.

I opened it to JJ, looking like he had been hit by a car. Probably not today, his clothes were clean, and his hair looks more purposeful than usual, but he had deep, purple bruises across his face, and a dark scab drifting from his eye down his cheek. I let out a slight involuntary gasp and stuttered a little bit.

"what happened? are you ok?"

"Can we please not talk about it" he looked as if he might burst into tears or run off at any moment.

I nodded, not trusting my words.

I just held out my arms and offered him a hug which he wordlessly accepted, melting into my embrace. He wasn't much taller than me, but he slumped down, head on my shoulder he let out a heavy sigh before letting go.

"Thanks, I guess I needed that" he said his words attempting to convey lightness but getting stuck in the back of his throat.

"I figured" I shrugged, helplessly. Lost at what to do as I led him into the kitchen where my books were spread on the island.

I saw him taking stock of my kitchen which had small pads on all of the corners as well as small braille labels on the cupboards.

"Is this like babyproofing?" he asked.

"No" I laughed "My little brother is blind, its for safety but also theoretically so he can find stuff on his own"

"I didn't know you had a little brother" JJ looked shocked as he tried to process that information.

"He lives off the island about 11.5 months a year. He's almost 8 and my favorite person in the whole world. He goes to a boarding school for blind kids."

JJ just nodded.

"That's why my mom's not here. She tries to spend a few weeks a quarter there, whenever she's not running our family business on the island. She feels really guilty about sending him away, even though the only place she can make money is on the island and the only place he can learn is off. So she has a tiny shoe box apartment out in Raleigh where his school is."

"And your dad stays here with you?" Jj asked innocently.

I just shrugged "He's not really in the picture these days"

"I'm sorry," JJ offered.

"It's alright. We get by ok. I've had to grow up pretty fast these past few years since my brother started school, but it's worth it."

"Wait. This is why you were so good at helping me and dictating everything you wrote isn't it. JJ asked.

"I don't even think I thought about it like that, I just have spent a lot of time with my brother who also learns differently so it came easily to me" I answered genuinely.

"That was the nicest way anyone has ever called me illiterate" JJ joked, perking back up to his normal self.

I just rolled my eyes at that comment. We worked for a few hours only breaking for pizza and soda until about 10 pm. Until we decided we were caught up enough to call it a night. JJ promised to work more over the rest of the weekend to make up his share, even though I told him that wasn't necessary.

Normally on Friday nights, I watched a movie after homework, studying and pizza with Y/F/N, but she left right after swim practice to go to her grandparents on the mainland. So I just offered JJ to stay. He accepted, quickly shooting a text to his friends to let them know his whereabouts.

"Kie made it seem like they did a pretty good job of checking up on you" I noted.

"They do, they mean well" he said. Now that I had seen him, I better understood why. They probably knew something that he wasn't ready to let me in on yet, even though I was desperately curious and felt unceasingly bad for him.

As we watched the movie he slid closer to me on the couch. I was keenly aware of his body’s proximity to mine , and not as much so to the plot of the movie.

I was aware that i was a bit nervous and jumpy, after all I had never had a boy at my house alone before. But he put his hand on my thigh, and as much as I had wanted to not be nervous I moved away from him and put my back to the arm rest of the couch, hugging my knees into my chest.

“Oh fuck I’m sorry i knew i misread the vibe I’m an idiot” JJ quickly spat out

“No it’s not…” I struggled to find my words which was rare for me

“I just , I like you, but I felt like I gave you the wrong idea last weekend. I don’t want to have a one night stand, and then I felt like you didn’t speak to me all week or say anything after. I get that that’s what you’re looking for but it’s just not me” I word vomited

“I’m so stupid I’m sorry i should have known you’re too smart to think of me as more than a friend. Can we just pretend I didn’t do that”

“I do like you like that I just. I know you just do hook ups and I don’t know I know i sound like a prude but I don’t think i can do that.”

“Wait. You do like me like that?”

“Obviously. We have so much fun together.” I replied honestly.

“I spent all of last weekend and all week convincing myself that I fucked up by kissing you. And convincing myself that you like every one else just wanted to brag about having some drunken escapade with JJ and never see him again.”

“And I thought you were mad I didn’t sleep with you because you didn’t text me. “ I admitted.

“I’m sorry.” He looked heart broken. “It honestly wasn’t that. No one has ever wanted me in anyway other than for my body. So i assumed if you didn’t want to come home with me you were probably offended I even made a move at all and certainly couldn't like me back.”

My heart hurt hearing his genuinely vulnerable comment.

“I obviously always thought you looked good, but only have developed a crush on you now that I know you for you” you admitted. “But i assumed since you have your pick of gorgeous girls that you wouldn’t want me.” My voice quivered. I had never once admitted to someone how insecure I was about how I looked. It always seemed like there were more important things than appearances, quite literally speaking in my life. But that didn’t make being a high school girl any easier.

JJ scooted back closer to me and pulled me in a big hug.

“I think you’re absolutely beautiful. I always have. Why else do you think the teacher put everyone else together with their normal partners except us and John B and Y/F/N. Because she noticed me staring at you up front all of class.”

“Is that true?”

“I’m pretty sure. Everyone else I know in that class has their normal partner.”

I let out a little laugh.

“I must not have noticed because I was too preoccupied by your insights about our project And your, well everything.”

I pulled away from JJ’s hug.

“Do girls really not talk to you except to get you to hook up with them?”

He shrugged.

“Usually people only think I’m interesting or want to talk to me at a party. That and my dad spent all weekend and Monday night reminding me how worthless and stupid he thinks i am.”

"Did he do this?"

He just nodded. His chin quivered.

“You are actually one of the smartest people I’ve ever been paired with at our school. You are funny and interesting and genuinely a good friend to me day in and day out. “

At this point, my limbs were so entangled that i was sitting in his lap on the couch, your legs basically straddling him. His strong arms were snaked around my back, while mine rested on his shoulders. I leaned back so I could make eye contact with him.

“Maybe we’re an ever better more messed up pair than I thought” he joked.

This time it was my turn to make the first move. I leaned in slowly. Meeting his lips gently as his face was all bruised. He sighed happily. I deepened the kiss. His hands slowly unwrapped from my back and made their way onto my backside, slowly rocking me in his lap.

I hated that I pulled away.

“I thought you didn’t want me to use you for your body.”

“On second thought, please do” he joked, voice husky.

“I wouldn’t want you to think I don’t like you for your brain.” I said as I climbed off of his lap.

Without even having to explain again though, he understood I was only ready to move so fast. By the time we had rehashed all of our misunderstandings and made out through the second half of the movie, I was exhausted, as I had been up since morning practice. Something told me, and it wasn’t just the bags under his eyes, that JJ also hadn’t been sleeping very well.

“Wanna stay the night uh. I mean. Like just actually sleep here?” I asked.

He nodded happily before getting up to follow me upstairs. I quickly changed into pajamas in the bathroom and emerged to JJ, shirtless and littered in even more bruises, a pair of my baggy swim sweatpants sitting low on his waist.

I climbed into my bed at the same time as he did, and he pulled me in close to him. My head rested on his shoulder.

“Can I ask you something ?”

He asked softly.

“Would you wanna be my girlfriend?”

I nodded softly.

“I would love to”

He kissed the top of my head

-Two weeks later-

I entered John B's house, through the screen door on the porch, and came into the kitchen to meet the already gathered pogues. I was joining them in celebrating the last day of school.

Pope immediately asked me when Y/F/N was arriving, so I reassured him that she would be there for the real full party. I walked over to JJ who wrapped his hands around me from behind and placed his head on my shoulder contently.

"Want a beer?" John be asked.

I nodded, and as he pushed open the fridge, I saw magneted to it our final graded report from our Biology final, with an A+ scribbled in red ink on the top corner.

"Aww our project" you involunatarily remarked. JJ stepped over trying to remove it from the fridge out of embarrassment, but John B intercepted him with both arms pulling the other boy close in a half wrestle, half hug.

"We're very proud of him, always" John B smiled ruffling a hand through JJ's hair and laughing while JJ groaned.

You were thankful for this found family when yours was away, but even more so for the love they provided JJ each and every day.

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im-sew-curious · 3 months

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Isn't it glorious?

It’s here! I finally tackled my analysis of Key’s gold Gasoline era costume, worn in his music video for the song, photoshoots, a stage performance at the Inkigayo show, and a live performance at SM Town 2022. I’ll discuss everything from the fabrics used, the gloves, the shoes, complain about the zipper, talk about whatever the heck jumps are, break down all of the tiny little types of ornamentation (including the things I don’t actually know the name for) and more.

It’s scary in the best way. Buckle up. Grab some coffee or tea or vodka and a blanket.

I want to preface this by saying that this is going to be VERY long. I’ve polled my followers and nearly everyone said they want me to get as granular as I want. So I’m doing that. If that’s not your thing, here’s your exit ramp now. I get it. This is absurd.

You can also read it on my Twitter here. It actually has a LOT of bonus photos because they only allow me to have 30 on here, if you’re interested in seeing more. It may help clarify some things, as well.

Now then. Welcome to those who are left. Let’s begin!

Costumes by Dénicheur by Seo Seung Yeon

For his Gasoline era, Key has had four costumes designed and made by Dénicheur by Seo Seung Yeon, a Haute Couture Designer House that, among other things, makes elaborate costumes for Kpop performers. They’ve got an amazing Instagram portfolio to check out. They made him a gold and black costume for his G.O.A.T in the Keyland concert, the blue and white one for the Gasoline MV, this gold one, and a cream and gold beaded jacket for the 2023 SM Town Concert.

This fashion house’s trademark is intricately beaded, appliquéd…encrusted…costumes. I was able to get some high quality photos from some of you (thanks so much!) And the more I looked, the more I discovered.

If this were a piece of art (well, it is, but not in the same way) “Mixed Media” is what I’d call it. There are literally over twenty different types of beading techniques, appliqués, various types of sequins, trims, braids, rhinestones, chains, and more.

First, I’ll do an overview of the garments themselves, and then I’ll move on to the ornamentation.

The top (it’s not a jacket, it’s not really a shirt, it’s not a tunic. So I’m going with “top”) has a very boxy torso with exaggerated wide, padded shoulders. They’re completely squared. There are straight sleeves—not too slim, not too bulky. There’s a heavily ornamented oversleeve that reaches down to about his elbows and a “nude” colored full length under sleeve. It also has heavily ornamented cuffs at the bottom the sleeve. It has an exposed zipper up the center back that goes up into a short turtleneck collar. The collar and a portion of the lower neck back region are sheer with some beading and appliqués. There are sheer spirals around his arms and in chevrons on his front and scooping around to his back.

Just LOOK AT that masterpiece

The trousers are closely cut through the waist, hips, and thighs but become a bit wider at the knee. It looks like they were made full length but are always worn bunched up over knee high boots. They close at the center front with a very beautifully set fly zipper and flat trouser hook and bar. It’s so low profile that it wasn’t until I got some 4K images that I was even sure of where they closed. It was like he had been sewn in. I wrote a whole thread about it on Twitter that reads like a mystery novel, though I already spoiled the ending for you. Sorry.

The top is made of what is probably a “nude” (aka specially dyed to his skin tone) base fabric to hold the structure, with the ornamentation stitched over top. The external stabilizing fabric is what appears to be some sort of jacquard, possibly silk.

Jacquard is a type of weave, where the fabric is made of long and short “up and down” stitches of sorts, to make a pattern. Because some of the time it uses longer “stitches” on top, it becomes more vulnerable to the fiber breaking and makes it become kind of “fuzzy” looking. This can be especially true if it’s a natural fiber that usually has less structural integrity than a synthetic one. I initially thought this had started to happen on Key’s rear, but after a very close zoom in, I think that’s just a bit of appliqué edge pulling up. I think maybe one of his mic packs is down there too, but I’m really not an expert in that. I did the research so you don’t have to, folks.

Left: A type of jacquard fabric. The shine comes from the longer top threads, contrasting with details of shorter threads. Right: Is it an applique or is it some snagged fibers? Ultimately, I think it's an applique edge.

Perhaps the most interestingly nerdy thing about jacquard is that it was originally made on a loom that led to the creation of computer programming by utilizing a sort of “binary code.” There were punchcards that showed the strands of fibers when to go up and down. Like “holes and not holes” in which to weave.

A Jacquard Machine Loom with punchcards that create the desired design on the fabric

It’s important to note that this fabric needs to have some stretch because it is also used to make his very tight fitting trousers. If it were not a stretch fabric, he wouldn’t be able to do this like THIS or…most things, really.

Even though the jacquard is stretchy, it has some structure to it. It’s used as a stabilizer in between the “flesh mesh” on the outer layer. (aka power net, stretch mesh... There are many names!) It forms the base on which the majority of the ornamentation is stitched.

Flesh mesh is a stretchy mesh fabric dyed to the performer’s skin color and is used to give the illusion that you’re seeing their skin, but it gives much more strength than just a cutout. I wrote a thread about flesh mesh and the importance of taking into consideration the performer’s actual skin tone when building them a costume here

In this case, flesh mesh allows for adornment of these areas, as well. It’s important to note that, even though it’s a separate layer over the base, it is “tacked” through all layers in a regular fashion so it doesn’t droop with the weight of all of the ornamentation.

There are also some parts that have metallic gold applied pieces. This was probably made of a beefy metallic spandex applied on top of the base rather than some solid pleather, due to way it behaves on the body. The latter would have been way too rigid in comparison to the rest of the fabrics.

Heavy gold stretch spandex, forming a chevron on which to affix beads and other trims

Okay. Range of movement time. You know how I love discussing this. That’s because it’s the single most important aspect of costumes for dancers.

Let’s talk armpit gussets. They’re an American football shaped piece of fabric that is stitched in the armpit partially to the sleeve underarm, and partially to the torso underarm. It’s often made of a stretch fabric, but sometimes it’s out of the original “fashion fabric,” which is what we call the main garment fabric.

Gussets out of different fabrics under each underarm. You can see the gold bunch under his arm when it's at his side

It allows the performer to more easily move their arms above their chest and head to help keep the top from riding up. You can see in this photo, though, that it does bunch up a little when his arm is down, because of the extra fabric. It has to go somewhere when it’s not taut.

With this particular top, it’s interesting to note that, due to the asymmetrical decoration of his arms, one gusset is the gold stretch fabric and the other is the jacquard. That means that, either both fabrics have the exact same stretch, or his arms may be SLIGHTLY more limited on one side than the other. That’s fun! I really geeked out about this observation.

Often with jackets for dancers, they’ll have what are called “commodity pleats” around the center back shoulder area. They’re a sort of sneaky hidden accordion-like bit of fabric that stretches out during movement that may otherwise split the back open. Taemin uses them a LOT. But, since this top is so boxy, Key doesn’t need them in this instance. He already had the room he needed without any other accommodations.

They put commodity pleats in the back of most of Taemin's closer fitting jackets. I wish they'd make them the same color as his jackets, though!

With Key’s trousers, we’ve already established that they’re made of a fabric with a decent amount of stretch. But since I can’t find many good photos of his bottom half, I’m unsure about if he also has “crotch gussets.”

By this point, I’m kind of notorious as being the “crotch gusset person.”

The following posts explain them in much more detail, but basically, they’re long triangular wedges that start in the trouser crotch and taper down to nothing in the inseam. These are often put in trousers of dancers when people need a better range of movement.

I wrote about this in detail regarding Taemin’s pleather pants he wore in his Metamorph concert, as well as all of SHINee in the Your Number dance video. You can find my posts on the subject here:(Metamorph) (Your Number)

Jinki rocking a black crotch gusset in SHINee's "Your Number" Performance Video (Black Version)

Gussets allow for extra room and movement when one is trying to do extreme leg movements like squatting. Unfortunately, I don’t have many good photos of his inseam. There’s so much going on with appliqués and piecing of mesh vs jacquard, it’s hard to tell. Part of the front half of his trousers is flesh mesh, swirling around them. The other parts are the jacquard, whereas the back is all jacquard.

I saw one photo which made me begin to wonder if the inseam is a little further forward than it could be, though. That could mean there IS a gusset. I’m really not sure...I don't have official visual confirmation, but now you know more about crotch gussets either way. You’re welcome.

That seam line is up a bit more forward than usual. It really has me wondering, because that would happen if there was a gusset installed. Hmmmm.

Okay. Zipper education time. I apologize in advance. Things get spicy but I tried to tamp it down. The center back (abbreviated as “CB” in the industry) of the top has an exposed zipper. This means exactly what it sounds like: it’s exposed. You look at it, and it looks like there’s a zipper right there. It’s not hidden. Sometimes it’s a perfect match, and sometimes it’s “featured.” Exposed zippers actually become a trend every once in a while in everyday fashion.

I thought it was extremely interesting that, on this elaborate costume, they chose to use a zipper with metallic teeth on white “tape.” (The fabric on the sides of the teeth.) It was a huge disappointment for me, actually. I would have loved to have seen the zipper more carefully hidden like his fly was.

Hello, zipper. I see you loud and clear!

I have to comment a bit on what I view as the one flaw in this otherwise perfect costume. I will preface this by saying that I was not in the fitting room where this was conceived, and I don’t know about any extenuating circumstances and the reasoning behind this decision. But there a few things that I would have done differently regarding the zipper and back collar of this top if were to have made it.

But first: some zipper education. Besides exposed, there are center lapped, as well as regular lapped zippers. With the center lap, it’s like the fabric covers your zipper but you can pull the zipper down through it. Your hoodie probably has one. The regular lap zipper is more like your trouser fly in that there is one flap of fabric that covers the whole zipper, hiding it.

Top: Exposed. (Though it has a matching zipper and zipper tape.) Bottom Left: Center Lapped. Right: Regular Lapped.

Either of those types could have been used to make the zipper more discreet. I personally would have chosen to use a regular lapped zipper, which is less likely to get snagged than a center lapped zipper.

People have defended the exposed zipper by asking if it’s because it’s less likely to get caught. I very much get this argument, and, technically it’s right.

But, in my extensive experience, I don’t think I can recall a case of an exposed zipper in the back of a costume, quick change or no. It’s unattractive. (Not to mention a dead giveaway in a period garment!)

If it’s sewn well and tested, with the correct size lap and no loose fabric, it will work just fine. There should be a hook and eye at the top to make sure that it stays secure while dancing.

Part of being a good dresser is being methodical and purposeful, not frantically zipping something up in a way that is more prone to snagging. They keep their cool, perhaps taking a couple more seconds but ensuring that they pull it up smoothly. They use their fingers to block the overlap as they guide the zipper up.

(Random side note: I met a dresser once who preferred zippers be installed upside down for their quick changes. Hey, whatever works best for them! I wonder how they discovered that…)

I will also note that, as far as I’m aware, the only times he’s worn this costume, he didn’t need to get in or out of it quickly. I know that he wore it in the MV, the Inkigayo performance, and the photoshoot. He also performed at SM Town Tokyo 2022, though he had 11 songs during which to change between Bad Love and this. He never wore this look at his G.O.A.T. in the Keyland concert. Oh, and the collab with the Jinro frog. I’ll talk about that later.

So ultimately, all of the zipper quick change talk is for nothing. There COULD have been a chance that this was going to be worn during his concert, I suppose. But if not, in the end, I can find no reason that there needed to be an exposed zipper other than: they wanted it that way.

Sorry for that rant. I know that it was intense. I just…wish it were pretty. That’s all. I know it wouldn’t have bothered most people, but I personally think that the costume deserved better!

Well then. They arranged the symmetrical beaded appliqué motifs so they didn’t interfere with the center back line, so it wasn’t an issue being all chonky around the zipper.

Unfortunately, since the zipper was built into the neck with just the “stretch mesh,” it moves very differently than the rest of the top. It has a substantially weaker structural makeup and it can’t support itself the same, so it stretched at a different rate than the zipper on the solid fabric on the bottom. It kind of “bubbled” when he moved and it rode up.

Showing the neck bubbling, and, on the bottom left photo, you can see that there is some sheer stabilizer to ensure that the zipper doesn't just tear out of the sheer net.

It couldn’t have been helped unless that whole back neck area had been backed with the solid nude base fabric. That’s what I would have done, personally. But using the stabilizer helped a bit. Without it, it may have not lasted a performance.

I don’t know why they did it that way, but the result was rather disappointing to me, especially considering the care that was taken with the rest of the garment.

Okay. End rant. The rest of the costume is EXQUISITE.

One more thing to note is that the zipper terminates about 4” above the top’s bottom hem. It is right around where his waist is. It was built that way to ensure that he was able to move his legs and hips comfortably without getting hung up anywhere.

His knee high boots were covered with the same peach jacquard as his top, as well as utilizing the gold fabric to serve as ornamental buckled straps.

The stretch element of the jacquard is further showcased by the fact that it pulls over the boot toe smoothly, with little issue. A completely stable fabric wouldn’t be able to do that.

Now for the ornamentation. Oooooh boy. There are around twenty types of various adornments on this costume, and I thought I’d highlight some of them.

I can spy about 15 different types of ornamentation here alone.

Beaded appliques at the neckline

Heavy chains

Rhinestone appliques and/or individual rhinestone pieces

Bugle bead chevrons

Gold round beads

Yellow individual small rhinestones

Grey beads in between bugle beads

Gold and silver flat braid trim

Gold stretch fabric

Round flat decorative chain

Hanging paillettes

Dark seed beads with some of the paillettes

Gold dangling lil dudes

A sequined applique peeking out from behind a chain

Utilizing the main fabric as a chevon stabilizer as a design detail

About paillettes: these might actually be my favorites. They’re like “floppy sequins” that only have one hole at an edge. They’re made of a very lightweight plastic, so they’re virtually silent. If you wear a dress completely covered in paillettes, you’ll just hear a little rustle. In this case, his were mainly attached via dangly wires as fringe around the upper sleeves. There are a few other random instances throughout the garment where they’re stitched on individually. You can read more about paillettes in my post here.

Appliqués: There are at least three different types of appliqués in this costume:

Beaded

Lace

Sequined

Rhinestone

Appliqués are premade decorative pieces. It looks like someone hand beaded everything on the costume, but they were able to take a shortcut by using these. So no, contrary to what you might believe, there wasn't someone laboriously hand beading every single thing on to this costume.

It still takes FOREVER to invisibly stitch each motif on to the costume as well as, in this case, sometimes layer upon layer. A lot of them are attached to a net base, and in closeups, I saw how they trimmed the net away closely around the motifs.

On the top, we have the gold paisley sequined appliques. On his trousers, you can see the low profile lurex embroidered lace appliques. Bottom left, you can see the beaded and rhinestone applique. And on the right, beaded appliques. You can see that they're over flesh mesh so, when it's on Key, it just looks like he has a beaded collar.

The sequined, beaded paisley motifs are the most prominent and plentiful form of appliqués, focusing around the top’s cuffs and lower edge. They’re also heavily featured spiraling around the trousers. There are even some appliqués stitched across the seams of the trousers and top.

There are some huge, gorgeous bead and rhinestone appliqués, like this one on his right bicep that you can see in the photo above.

There’s also the Lurex lace (metallic threaded) embroidered appliqués that concentrate mostly on his trousers' waist and hips. It’s low profile without any bits that might snag the top while moving. They added a few jewels to it further down once it was no longer posing any danger to snags. There are also a few flat appliqués on his rear, so as to not make sitting uncomfortable but still be adorned.

Beads and gemstones: There are also individual beads and jewels both sewn and what appears to be discreetly glued on as accents. A popular adhesive we use for that sort of application is called E6000. It bonds pretty much everything from plastic, leather, metal, rubber, and wood. It’s like a slower acting super glue, but is more flexible.

You definitely need to use this in a ventilated area or, ideally, with a respirator. The fumes are no joke! There are little chevrons made out of long tubular metallic bugle beads that were probably glued instead of stitched on. There are also round bronze beads and gold rhinestones glued to the edges of the metallic fabric.

There are little dangling gold dudes, though I don’t know what they’re officially called. There are individual sew on rhinestones. There are circular decorative flat chains. There is gold beaded fringe at the wrists of the sleeves.

Top left: gold braid, beads and chains are heavily featured. Top right: the dangling gold dudes. I don't know what to call them. Bottom left: Paillettes, hanging on gold wires on the upper sleeve hem. Bottom right: Gemstones highlighting the center of the chest, with a whole organized, beautiful mess of braid, beads, etc.

There’s gold flat “braid” trim that also looks like it has a bit of silver in it to add dimension. It’s basically like a braided ribbon, often in metallic colors. It’s used a lot in military uniforms.

And there are a few other various random beads and trims that show up amongst the circus of adornment.

The layout of the overall design is asymmetrical, with left and right arms and legs that don’t match. However, the front of the top is completely symmetrical (which is extremely impressive) except for a few rampant rhinestones that intentionally deviate a bit. Here’s an abomination I made of the sleeves next to each other to see the asymmetry more clearly.

I THINK (not based on this photo but others that aren't Frankensteined together with different perspectives) that the sleeves are actually different lengths as well.

Something that I should cover is that with garments made out of a stretch fabric, like Key’s trousers in this case, stitching on something non-stretchy (like some appliqués) can be fraught. The appliqué can keep the fabric from stretching as much as it needs to accommodate a body in it, and it might tear off.

Sometimes, we need to stretch the fabric a bit as we sew on the motif so it will look normal when a leg is in it. It may look a bit puckered when it’s not being worn. The good news is that it appears that most of the motifs in this costume are on what is most likely a mesh backing, so they probably didn’t have to deal with that headache here!

Since the motif on the Jacquard fabric is pretty small, as well as the fact that some of the appliqués wrapped across the side seams, “pattern matching” wasn’t a big priority on this. However, it’s always preferable to keep the motifs at the same horizontal height. This is a REALLY small pattern, so it wouldn't matter terribly, plus the fact that it was so covered it can hardly be seen. There WAS a point on the right side seam where the pattern did match, but the fabric slightly torqued on the left so it didn’t. All in all, it wasn’t a big deal whatsoever. If it were a bigger print though, it could have been. I made a thread about pattern matching here. It's a subject I'm pretty passionate about!

This side seam was cut so that, at a fixed point, the motif was all at the same level horizonatally at there was a part where the motif perfectly matched up to create one complete one. Because there are curves in the seam, it can't do that everywhere.

Now for a bit of a departure: SHINee and its members have done a few collabs over the years, dancing with the frog mascot from Jinro soju. SHINee did one for Don’t Call Me, Taemin did one for Move, and Key did one for Gasoline.

They dressed the frog up like Key, complete with jewels and chains! It was precious. SO GOOD. Watch it now. I also bring this up because that video was the resource I used to figure out where the gold chains on Key’s top were “tacked” (AKA stitched to keep it held down strategically.) It was a nice close-up view. Thanks, Jinro frog!

(Side note: I have made mascots before and it's ironic because they freak me out. I also refurbished a hot dog mascot that had gotten too gross after public appearances over a decade. My life is weird.)

I love how scaled-back but accurate the frog's costume was.

Through the magic of the Jinro frog, I found the answer to the question “where were the chains tacked?” Here. Enough that they still have independent swing and look natural, but frequent enough to keep them from smacking him in the face. Based on the way they move, I think that is metallic coated plastic and not actual metal. Also, for safety's/comfortability's sake! You don't want to be thumped in the chest with every move.

Here's where the chains were tacked

Someone asked me how much they thought this costume weighed. My answer?

I really have no idea…but probably not NEARLY as much as it looks? I'm like 99.9% sure the chains aren't actual metal. I’m not sure if the “jewels” are glass or plastic. The tiiiiiny “seed beads” and "bugle beads" are glass, but there aren’t enough that they would weigh a significant amount. There's a lot of gold braid on there that's very lightweight. A lot of what you see are layered appliqués with sequins and seed beads, which weigh nearly nothing. The dangling paillettes are just a light plastic.

For the garments themselves, as we’ve established, the are a few layers of fabric and mesh, which aren’t very heavy. Because of the “encrusted” nature of the ornamentation, of course, it still weighs a bit more than just a regular top, and is probably kind of rigid on the front. However, it’s not like he’s dancing around in chainmail.

Lastly, there are his gloves. His left one is made out of that heavy gold stretch fabric that was incorporated into the rest of his costume, and his right was also made out of a flesh mesh. From the way it behaves in this photo, it appears to be a much heavier mesh than the top and trousers.

The right glove has thicker mesh that almost appears to have a natural fiber content that is getting snagged. It doesn't completely conform to the skin like a tight flesh mesh would.

The gloves are heavily ornamented with appliqués and beads. I’m going to guess that these were actually custom made for him, which is a big deal. I know very little about glove making, except it involves a TON of pieces to be done right. Gussets in between the fingers to make them slim and elegant and such. No Mickey Mouse hands here.

Stitching the ornamentation on to gloves is pretty difficult work. You either need a hand form and a curved needle or a very brave stitcher who uses their own hand as a form (palm up.) I haven’t done that for gloves, specifically, but I have been a “sacrificial hand” for other situations. I’m so calloused in most places, I don’t really feel much anymore!

There’s one more aspect to this costume that was seen in the intro for his Gasoline Inkigayo performance: the cloak. He didn’t wear it for very long, but it appears to button across his chest to the other shoulder with snaps underneath. The snaps keep the underlap from peeking out from…under the lap.

It looks like they might have had a wardrobe emergency here, because you can see that two of the three snaps were hastily stitched on with red thread. The ornamentation is asymmetrical, mostly focused on his right side. On his left shoulder, there is a decorative beaded “epaulette.” Those are the ornamental shoulder pieces you often see on military dress uniforms.

Left: The full cloak. You can see the facing on the inside edges, made of the same fabric as the outside. I'll write about that in a bit, and I'll show you a closer view later. Top right: The red thread holding on the upper snaps. Bottom right: Metallic epaulette.

It’s hooded and made out of the same jacquard fabric as the rest of his costume, and it has a satin lining the same color as the “fashion fabric.” It appears to be about calf length. One of the photos I found actually has a shot that shows the facing, the lining, and how the hem is done. Of course, I nerded out. It’s “self faced,” which means that there’s the same fabric that’s on the outside making up the “facing.” The facing is the first ten inches or so of the inside edge of the cloak. It makes a pretty transition from the outside to the inside, without a harsh switch to lining.

Then, there’s the hem.

While attached at the top, the hem of the lining and the outer fashion fabrics are allowed to “hang out” separately while on a dress form. Because fabrics stretch out at different rates (and it also changes by the direction they’re cut from the fabric, but that’s a whole different lesson…) it’s ideal for something like this to hang on a dress form and do its thing for a day or so.

In an ideal world, you’d have a fitting with your performer and you would mark a “level line” on them while they’re wearing the cloak (and also the shoes they will be wearing. Different shoes can change a lot!)

There are several different ways you can mark a hem. You can safety pin it up the way you want it, using a ruler measuring up from the floor to keep it even. But this can be awkward and clunky.

Or you can safety pin a “level line” and say that it’s, for instance, 18” off the ground, and you’d like the hem to be 16” off the ground. You’d draw a new hemline 2” down from the pins. It's the easiest way to know what's level and then decide exactly what you want to do later.

OR you can use what I call “the poofer” which is a little measuring stick on a tripod with chalk and a rubber squeezy ball that poofs chalk into a line at a set height, instead of dealing with pins. But sometimes the chalk doesn’t like to brush away, so that’s a bit of a risk in exchange for convenience.

First, let’s talk about hemming the outside cloak fabric. Because it may have stretched out unevenly, you may have wildly different hems lengths now that they’ve been “leveled.” Let’s say we’ll leave 6” of “hem allowance” to fold up into the garment so it can be lengthened later if we need to. You’ll trim the rest of it away. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve altered hem lengths on cloaks over the years! I'm always grateful to have extra.

You may want to finish the hem with a “serger” or “overlock” machine, which is the sewing machine that uses 3-4 threads to sew things, often stretch, together and kind of seals off the edges. It’s probably what stitches together the side seams of your t-shirt or hoodie or lounge pants or basically anything stretchy. It’s used to keep hems and the edges of fabrics inside garments from fraying. Sometimes people don’t do it, especially since it's inside, but it’s nice if you’re planning on altering it or if the fabric is really prone to fraying.

The cloak fabric is then thoroughly pinned and hand stitched up. There are many different sneaky stitches which grab a few threads at a time from the front of the fabric and are virtually invisible. Everyone has their favorites. My personal favorite is the “vertical hemming stitch” or “vertical blind hem.” I like it because it holds the inner hem and the outside of the cloak more tightly together than a lot of other styles. The “cross stitch” which is called the “blind catch stitch” here in this diagram is one of the most popular methods. However, I feel it can be a bit too loose some times and is more likely to be caught on something. The one downside of the vertical blind hem is that, if you pull it too tight, it’s more likely to show from the outside. It takes a very sensitive hand to get it right. The lining is usually slip-stitched to the cloak hem.

Once you’ve got your level line of your fashion fabric, it goes back on the dress form. I’m…not entirely sure I’ll do a good job explaining this because I work best with showing things with points and grunts. My apologies.

You mark the lining to match the level where the hem of the fashion fabric ends. You decide how far up from the bottom of the hem you want the lining to end (in this case, 4”.) So normally, you think you'd fold it up 4", right? Ha! You subtract two inches from that number. This means you’ll be folding up only two inches of lining. But, since we will be stitching it 4” up from the hem, that means there’s a floppy extra two inches. (Cue Advice.) What’s that for? Now I have to tell you about “jumps.”

Jumps are a sneaky trick. This method is used in suit coat hems and sleeve linings as well. Basically, they’re a way to give a little bit of wiggle room with the length of the lining to hem interaction.

After the fashion fabric is hemmed, you hand stitch the lining 4” up from the hem. You have two extra inches of lining. One extra inch of lining is pressed down so there’s an extra inch of “underlap". This photo (top right) showed me that they had done this to Key’s cloak. You can see it stretched out with the pressed line on the left, and it is folded over on the right.

Left: The "self fabric facing" at the center front inside of the cloak. Top right: The cloak hem showing the underside of the "jump" (left) and it down in its "resting" position (right). Bottom right: the "poofer." They're marking a level line.

If you want to get even MORE granular, that is considered a “soft press”, which means that the iron steams and very lightly rests on the fabric. A “hard press” is what it sounds like. Squish that lil dude and steam the heck out of it. That line is never gonna come out.

Okay. Enough of that. I can’t believe myself.

I could literally discuss this costume inch by inch, but I think I’ve covered it enough that you can peruse it yourself if you’d like and kind of know what you’re looking at.

I deeply admire and respect the, perhaps, 100+ hours of craftspersonship that it took to make this stunning costume. Don’t even ask me what it cost to make!

Do check out the Instagram of @denicheur.official where you can see other costumes they’ve worked on for groups like IVE, Enhypen, Stray Kids and more. They’ve got an amazing portfolio to drool over.

I hope you’ve gained an even greater appreciation for this gorgeous look, and the knowledge you’ve gained here can go forward with you as you enjoy future costumes! And thanks so much for sticking with me. I hope it was worth it!

#Shinee key #Key shinee #kpop #kpop costume #kpop costumes #Key #shinee #costume design #costume construction #costumes #gold costume #costume analysis #fashion analysis

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