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lovelybluebirdie · 3 months

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A sight to behold

Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: Astarion is far more than his beauty, and you want him to know.

Word Count: 1,7k

fluff, comfort

[AO3]

“You should get some rest, love,” Astarion whispers against your hair. He holds you comfortably in his arms, your fingers loosely grasping the end of his collar while his hand strokes along your waist, caressing your battle-bruised skin.

Usually sleep didn’t take long to claim you after an exhausting day of defeating vigorous creatures or learning another disturbing fact on the tadpole inside your brain, but tonight it seems to avoid you for some reason, leaving you tossing and turning within your bedroll until Astarion eventually pulled you into a loving embrace.

“I’m good,” you mutter as a deep yawn escapes your throat, smothering your last syllables.

Astarion cups your chin between his thumb and index finger, surveying your face. “You’re a weary little love if I ever saw one.”

“Fine, you’ve got me,” you reply in a drowsy voice. “Maybe I am a little tired, but somehow I can't find any sleep.”

His brow furrows. “Is anything troubling you, my dear?” he asks sincerely, pondering if he might’ve done something wrong.

The unpleasant thought has no room to spread its hooks any further, as he's met with only fondness from your tired eyes, leaving his ribcage bursting with adoration.

“No need to worry about me, Astarion. I promise, everything’s alright,” you assure as you begin to massage his ears, causing them to twitch.

“You still need to get some sleep though,” he scolds with half-closed lids. It's more of a moan, as he’s unable to suppress his desire for your blissful fingers to go on. You seem to know exactly where he enjoys them most, he notices, when another quiet groan spills from his lips.

You brush the pointy tip of his ear once more, cautiously not to overstimulate this sensitive part of him, before you rest your fingers on his neck and playfully raise an eyebrow.

“Perhaps you’ll allow me to indulge in your beauty a little longer before I find myself dozing off.”

A benign remark, and yet something inside Astarion shifts. Something he can’t fully fathom at first, a faint sense of melancholy starting to linger, despite the comfort of your touch.

He’s been called beautiful more times than he can remember, but he’ll never be able to judge for himself, being robbed of his reflection since Cazador turned him into a vampire spawn centuries ago – his own appearance remaining a dark shape from his past.

“Beauty you say?” he mumbles quietly. “Tell me then, what is it you see when looking at me?”

Your expression softens as you grasp for his hand and squeeze it lightly. It seems you’ve already caught his musings, as you often do, without him needing to vocalise that something’s on his mind.

“Well, your most outstanding features are probably your piercing eyes – crimson, like rubies,” you explain before resting a kiss on his cheek.

Astarion listens attentively. His gaze must indeed be exceptionally sharp, he thinks, trying for a brief moment to recall the colour his eyes were before he was turned, but to no avail. A shiver runs down his spine as he wonders if you might think of him as a dangerous predator at times, uncertain whether this poses a pleasant or a frightening notion.

“Sometimes they’re full of anger, resembling freshly shed blood. And other times they’re… so soft. Reminding me of the cutest puppy eyes I’ve ever seen, almost competing with Scratch,” you giggle as you draw your thumb along his cheekbone, right where your lips parted from his skin.

Astarion stares at you in bewilderment. “What do you mean – puppy eyes?! I’m a century-old vampire spawn, not some gushing maiden.”

“You asked what I’d see when I’m looking at you, didn’t you?” You offer him a mischievous grin before blowing a strand of hair off his forehead. “Or do you prefer me to stop?”

Astarion rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. “Fine, go on.”

Although not particularly delighted by the comparison you draw, he can’t resist the urge to listen to you further describing him.

“There are also your beautiful white curls – so smooth that I often find myself wondering which soap you use for them to stay that way,” you say as you take one of said strands between your fingers. “Come to think of it, those are probably one of my favourite parts of you, my love.”

“Mhm, I certainly have the best hair in camp,” Astarion purrs approvingly, a smug grin playing around his lips, vanishing the furrow on his brow from your previous remark.

“Don’t let Shadowheart hear,” you joke before continuing. “Of course I also adore your smile – seeing those little wrinkles when you laugh.”

Astarion’s grin freezes as he quickly feels the spot beneath his temples.

“My sweet, you surely must’ve noticed by now that one of a vampire spawn’s rare perks is eternal youth, so I’m quite positive that there are no such things as wrinkles on my face.”

“If you say so,” you chuckle as you reach for his hands to press loving kisses on his fingertips. “This was supposed to be a compliment, you know.”

“Perhaps if I wasn’t your lover, but your doting grandmother,” he grumbles with pursed lips, but doesn’t pull away.

“I sense you desire to listen to some of your less grandmotherly features, then?”

Astarion battles another grin but loses, his lips twisting to a wry smile. “Yes, please.”

It's true, he doesn’t want you to stop, secretly enjoying how sincere you express your sentiments.

“Let’s see if I find some, though…” you tease, earning a gentle nudge to your hip before your eyes are glued to his face again. “Honestly, you're stunningly beautiful, Astarion – a goddamn sight to behold.”

Astarion’s smile widens at your flattery. “Oh dear, that sounds far better than being described with the attributes of an old lady.”

“As I thought,” you reply, brushing one of his curls behind his ear. “But do you want to know what I adore about you most?”

Astarion's eyes grow round. “As humble as I am, I'm always thrilled to receive some more praise.”

He notices a flush to your cheeks as you let your finger slowly trace along the bridge of his nose, until it comes to a rest on his lips.

You clear your throat, seeming in search of the right words.

“You’re so much more than your beauty,” you begin, your fingertip still resting on his bottom lip. He presses a kiss, his curiosity roused.

“I love the way you make me laugh, like no one else can, despite all the madness we have to endure. Or watching you reading for hours, chuckling at little passages you like. Seeing how you squint when you take in the details while you embroider a piece of fabric.”

You pause to cup his face in your hands and smother him with gentle kisses, starting at his jaw, moving up to his nose and then his eyes. Astarion remains silent, graciously relishing your warmth.

Your words and touch are like a balm, and not for the first time he wonders how he came to deserve such kindness.

“Your skin is cold, yes, but no one has ever kept me this warm when being in their presence. You’re brave, and despite everything you had to endure, you turned into this wonderful man I came to love more than everything I ever held dear. You're most precious to me Astarion, and I never want to spend a day without knowing you by my side.”

It’s not often that Astarion finds himself speechless, and yet your genuine affection robs him of the ability to respond. He has to hold back tears that dwell behind his fluttering lashes.

Deprived of his ability to speak he can only press a kiss to your forehead, followed by another peck to the tip of your nose, before his lips crash into yours – hastily, in need of you.

Astarion can sense your pulse quickening as his tongue enters your mouth, a soft moan escaping your lips while your hand runs through his hair.

He gently bites your lower lip, the initial rush of his kiss replaced by a sudden tenderness, a flutter spreading right where his dead heart once beat.

Astarion has never felt like this with anyone but you. Perhaps you've turned him into a love-struck maiden after all, he thinks with a smile as he kisses you once more, gentle and soft, before your lips part and he glances at your endearing eyes, finding his voice again.

“I love you too, you cheeky little thing. Even if you have the guts to describe me like a grandmother first, and then almost make me weep from your loving words,” he chuckles while grasping the fabric of your nightgown to pull you closer against his body.

Astarion is used to conceal his emotions behind his jesting shell, and yet when he’s with you, his façade naturally crumbles.

“Guilty as charged,” you reply fondly.

“But honestly… Thank you,” Astarion speaks softly. “For seeing me, like no one else does.” His words come out raw, honest. “You know I don't pray to any of the gods, but if I did, I'm sure I would've caught myself thanking them for bringing you into my life. You're a vision, and through the time I spend with you, it almost feels like my dead heart starts beating again.”

“You’d better stop with that loving talk yourself, before we'll both start to weep,” you laugh as you reach for the corner of your eye, a single wet streak glistening on your skin.

Astarion moves up to kiss it away. “As much as I like to revel in our mutual affection, I don't wish to see more of your tears.”

“Well, perhaps we should call it a night then. I’m certain I’ll find some rest soon,” you whisper as you shift closer in the crook of his arm.

“You truly should, as I'm positive there’ll be more shenanigans awaiting us tomorrow,” Astarion replies and places a kiss on your hair. “Sleep well, my love.”

“You too, Astarion,” you hum, sounding slightly weary again. Maybe sleep has decided in your favour after all, he thinks as he notices your breath becoming more even.

When you finally doze off in the safety of his embrace, Astarion's chest is filled with warmth over the love he holds for you.

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jaylaxies · 8 months

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HARD THOUGHT !

CW: smut, angst, manipulation, unhealthy relationship

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

REQUESTED BY: anonnie!

Possessive!Sunghoon who goes crazy at the mere thought of any other guy touching you, gripping the glass of wine with enough power to smash it into smithereens simply because he saw a man invading your personal space. What made him scoff was the faint smile playing on your lips instead of disgust, which was the reason why Sunghoon had dragged you out of the party, not sparing a glance towards the other guy, otherwise he would have punched him straight in the face, nor did he pay attention to your questions. The drive home was silent, as if it’d turn into a heated argument the moment you’d part your lips to speak, yet you were fuming inside, tired of his possessiveness and anger that came with it.

He stormed inside your shared apartment the second he parked the car, unbuttoning his shirt, a button almost falling out with how rushed his actions were, “you like it, don’t you? When others touch you, when others come close to you?” Sunghoon asked the second you stepped into the bedroom, eyes icy and darker than ever, jaw clenched in a way you hadn’t seen before. You shake your head in disbelief, “and you know nothing but jealousy and anger, I’m so done with you,” you seethed out, causing him to chuckle, taking a step your way, which caused you to take a step back, “so what? You’re gonna leave me? You’re gonna find someone else, is that what you’re gonna do, kitten?” He mocked, his body shaking as he tried to control himself, yet he took a step towards you again, his torso fully on display with his half unbuttoned shirt.

“Yes I will—” you tried to say, taking another step back, falling behind on your bed with no space left to walk, and Sunghoon was quick to get to top of you, his chain dangling in the process, caressing your clavicle, “damn right you will, I’d like to see you try, darling,” he whispers, dragging his lips from your ear to cheek, giving you goosebumps.

Even the miniscule things he did had your mind spiralling.

“Go on, try to find someone else, let’s see who makes you feel the way like I do,” his deep voice makes you gulp right when he kisses your throat, “I’ll ruin you to the point of no comeback, kitten,” he promises and all his slow actions turn into rough, rushed ones as he turns you over with ease, getting rid of your clothes and ripping off your dainty laced panties, his fingers getting soaked up in your wetness, “look at you all dripping when I haven’t even touched you,” he smirks, “even your body admits that you’re all mine, you’re fucking mine, understood?”

Your eyes rolled back to your head, as you gasped with the stretch his thick fingers provided you with, “you’ll never be satisfied with anyone else, baby, you can’t ever have anyone else’s cock in your pretty little cunt without thinking of me,” he said, spanking your ass, a tear falling down your cheek. It felt too good despite the anger lingering around, you knew he was right, that no one else could ever compare to him.

He switched your positions, eyes fixated on your eyes as he held your wrists above your head. He thrusted into you without any warning, your juices making it easy for him to bottom out in a single thrust as you moaned, your heartbeat dangerously fast, your skin hot as your pussy sucked him in, your hips rolling back to meet him halfway. “You. Are. Mine,” he said, pistoning into your cunt, and you let him, eyes closing shut when he pulled you into a rough kiss, possessiveness clear in them.

He was right, you couldn’t be anyone else’s, not when you’re obsessed with Sunghoon and his way to put you in your place, your orgasm finally bringing you back to his senses.

That you belong to him.

#ria:thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enha smut #kpop smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enhypen imagines #sunghoon x reader

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thelovelyruin · 5 months

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𝖘𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖊.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : yandere choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : choso fell in love with you freshman year and it was finally time to make you his.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, love, manipulation, murder (not you!)

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 7.1K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from saccharine by jazmin bean.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! this was a request i’ve been working on for a while lol; i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

Everything you do, I'm obsessed with you.

“Exciting, isn’t it?”

“Huh? I mean, yeah it’s cool.”

“Are you rushing too? I really wanna go Kappa!”

“That’s, uh, aren’t they kinda…”

“What, cunts? Yeah, I’d fit in nicely.”

When Choso first met you during rush week a couple years ago, you were an aspiring freshman looking for a sorority to pledge to, and he was a normal guy. Sorta. You’d spoken to him once and he became absolutely in love with you. Not like he hadn’t been with other girls in the past, a few relationships here or there. But you were different. Not like any other girl he’d seen. You hadn’t shared too much with him that day, but he was determined to figure out, well, everything about you.

I don't mean to scare, but you're just so cute.

It started with your name, which he’d simply just asked someone in your class. But then, Choso needed to know more, when was your birthday, were your zodiac signs compatible? He’d gotten that information from stealing your campus ID out of your purse while you two were in class together. Choso was paying really good attention to other things too though. He’d paid attention to your screen while he sat behind you, online shopping when you were supposed to be paying attention to the lecture. That’s how he found out what size you were and the brands you liked, but other things got a little trickier. He noticed the way you did your makeup, it was always so pretty, but it’s not like he knew what any of it was, so he’d slowly started stealing things out of your makeup bag. It was harder to get your perfume, though, until you reapplied it on the campus lawn one day. Pink sugar, huh? Sweet just like you. Choso wanted to be even better, he’d send you flowers with no receipt of who sent them, an array until he found your favorites. He’d pay for your food when you went out to eat, then leave to remain anonymous. He just loved seeing that smile on your face whenever he surprised you with something, always grateful, looking around to see if you could catch your secret admirer, but blushing when you realized you wouldn’t. God, you were perfect.

Lucky for you, you had actually gotten into Kappa. You walked around on this high horse though, one of those kiss-my-ass kind of attitudes. Not like anyone was gonna check you for it, well, ‘cause you were hot. Always well dressed, always groomed, always punctual. There was nothing anyone could really say about you other than you being a bitch, at least never to your face. Little did you know, Choso was your bitch. If you ever even glanced at him, he’d almost faint, and as the sophomore and junior years came and you’d gotten classes with him, he’d go back to his dorm and fuck his fist at the thought of you every day. But now, it was Senior year, and he was running out of time to make you his.

Every move you make, you're fucking sweeter than a cake.

Choso originally planned to just ask you directly, but he had to make sure it was gonna be perfect. He couldn’t leave room for error in the possibility that you weren’t interested at all. So, he’d gotten as close as possible to you. It wasn’t stalking, it was just studying an interest. He was pretty good at photography, so he got hired as a photographer for school events, such as parties or games. He’d walk around and take pictures of everyone like usual to not raise suspicion, but whenever he could, he’d snap as many pictures as he could of you, slipping them into his pocket. When there was too much going on at the party downstairs, he’d sneak upstairs to find which room was yours, for research purposes of course.

Well, that research went directly to Choso knowing which window to take pictures outside of. You were so oblivious, often leaving your curtains wide open as you just got out of the shower, dressed in nothing but a towel. Now, Choso never got a snapshot of you naked or anything like that, but the hopes of the day he could got him pretty damn hard. He’d take pictures of you walking around campus, doing fundraisers with your sorority sisters, running for the pageants that you always won, with the exception of Miss Junior, who you exposed for cheating on her boyfriend so she’d be out of the running. So, you’d won that too. You were practically perfect, Choso felt you were made for him, there was a true possibility he could nurture and care for you, allow you to let your guard down a bit and let him someone in. He imagined himself taking you out to all your favorite restaurants, he had all of them written down along with your favorite menu items. Nights in his room cuddled up watching all of the movies you liked, you’d be so excited to see all of your favorite snacks already waiting for you. You’d wear that glitter lipgloss you loved, he’d make sure you had more than enough, considering he’d already bought two tubes for whenever he made you his. He imagined making love to you, hearing you moan for him as he pleasured you, then put you on his chest as you fell asleep, resting his eyes as he held you. You two could truly be in love.

I'd love to wipe these other bitches out, so it's just you and me.

But, you had a fucking boyfriend. It’s not like he didn’t like seeing you with other guys. He fucking hated it. Choso thought the guy was pretty scummy, he had that douchebag personality and always looked at guys like Choso like he was a piece of shit. But that asshole was truly a piece of shit. Megumi, or something like that. Choso didn’t bother doing too much digging up on him because it wasn’t gonna matter very soon. You guys had been dating since the beginning of the school year, not very long, but that didn’t stop him from talking to other girls when you weren't around. He’d forget your dates, and make you cry. Wouldn’t post you on his socials, almost pretended he was single. Choso had half a mind to stab him to death, mostly because he didn’t like the way he treated you, but also because then he wouldn’t be in the way anymore.

Then, there were your damn sorority sisters. Those bitches were definitely in the way. They took up too much of your time, making you busy every day with planning and meetings, to do what? Party and maybe, fundraise? He’d see them sometimes talking shit about you, saying you were weird or a bitch, or something else that wasn’t true about you. Choso would never say those things about you or treat you like that. You deserved someone who actually loved you and cared about you, none of these other distractions. He would give you the world, but that meant getting rid of the world you had first.

Oh, oh, this shit is scaring me…

Now, when Choso originally thought of doing this, he thought it was a little nuts. It was a little extreme, sure, but it was just an obstacle in the way to get to you. Sometimes, we do bad things for the people we love. It doesn't mean it's right, it means love is more important.

Choso originally thought of actually stabbing Megumi like he wanted to. That fell quickly when he really considered the situation. Megumi was on the lankier side which meant it would be more tactical to get a hit in, plus he’d need to find a time he’d be alone in a discreet location to hurt him with no one noticing. Not that he’d really care if someone saw, it would just mean he wouldn’t be able to live the rest of his life with you; that was not an option. Shooting would be just as difficult, shell casings and the sound of gunfire could get him in deep. Could steal the brakes from his car, but then there was the possibility you were in it when it crashed, and for that, he’d never forgive himself. He’d need something that anyone could have done, an accident perhaps, something that wouldn’t kill Megumi, just get him out the fucking way. Then he got a little idea.

Don't wanna stick my fingers in this, or I'll start to bleed…

“Hey, Megumi!”

“Do I know you?”

“Well, we literally live on the same floor, but um, no. Anyways, wanted to talk to you about something…”

“Get on with it.”

“It’s her birthday today, your girlfriend that is.”

“Oh yeah. Well, why the fuck do you care?”

“We’re kinda close, wanted to get her something, but I’ll be too busy with classes to give it to her. Do you mind giving it to her for me?”

“You got my girlfriend a gift, bitch? What the hell’s in this box?”

“Well, that’s kind of a surprise for her…”

“Get the fuck out of my face before I beat your ass. Leave my girl alone, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

Megumi had slammed the door on him, just like that. Usually, Choso would’ve been really torn by his insult. He was pretty pissed Megumi forgot your birthday too, but how could he be pissed, truly? Not when a sweet resolution to Megumi’s shitty ways was on the horizon.

“Megumi’s like totally dead!”

“Omg, what do you mean he’s dead?”

“Well, he went to the hospital ‘cause he came down with like a fever or something? Todo said he couldn’t even talk when he found Megumi in the hallway and his eyes were all watery. The doctors said he died of, shit, what’s it called again? Whatever, like he couldn’t breathe! I don’t know what the fuck happened, but damn, really sucks, ya know?”

“Babe, I’m so sorry. To be fair, he was a dick.”

“Yeah, you’re right. He didn’t have a big one either TBH.”

Well, shit. Choso didn’t mean to kill him, not really. He knew Megumi was a fuckin’ asshole, though. Paired with someone crushin’ on his girlfriend and his ego, Choso knew Megumi was gonna open that box. And what was in it? Initially, Ricin covered the inside of the box, which when inhaled, caused damage to the respiratory system, which Megumi could technically recover from. Choso had extracted the Ricin from some castor beans. The same castor beans that were crushed inside of the cupcake sitting in the box. All 10 of them. Originally, Megumi would’ve lived, had he just thrown it away and not have been nosy, and if he did end up giving it to you, Choso would be there to intervene and he’d deal with that explanation later. But Megumi chose to be a nosy bastard, open it, AND EAT THE CUPCAKE! It was comical, really, considering Ricin can’t be found in an autopsy, so Choso got away with it. It’s okay. It had to be done. That greedy asshole got what was coming to him, and with him out of the way, Choso was cleared to enact Phase 2.

It's sweet like saccharine, what I’d do to have you sitting here next to me.

A couple of days after Megumi died, you pretty much got over it, walking about as if nothing happened. To be fair, he was cheating on you all the time, lied to you, and overall treated you like shit, so it wasn’t that hard. What Choso didn’t expect was for you to get kicked out of your sorority house.

“Listen, babe. Your dead boyfriend is really throwing off the vibe here. Plus, it’s bringing a lot of bad looks to the rest of us because it seems like you honestly don’t give a fuck that he died, and truthfully, neither do we, but damn bitch, try acting like it!”

“Please, Chapter President, I can act like I care, I just-”

“Sorry girlie. You’re still a sister, don’t worry. You do have to leave the house though.”

Choso felt a little bad. A little. They really were bitches, but this was perfect. He’d just saved himself from starting a gas leak at the Kappa house when you weren’t home. He didn’t like that your feelings were hurt though, and he beat himself up about it. Choso himself wasn’t really a good guy, killing your boyfriend on your birthday? Almost killing your sorority sisters before they pretty much kicked you to the curb? He was doing the exact opposite of being a good boyfriend. He’d be on his toes from now on, can’t risk ruining his chances with you. However, it was all in good light. You were becoming more and more ready to fall into his arms.

Apparently, you pretty much kept to yourself and stayed in your room. Your classwork was slacking a bit, and you couldn’t live at the house, but that didn’t stop you from still trying to be involved, participating in some campus events, and fundraising with your sisters despite your exile. You were a normal girl, humbled for sure, but Choso didn’t like that very much. He never intended to break you down like this, while you were still sweet in his eyes, he knew you loved the life you had before. He can’t unkill Megumi, which wouldn’t make sense anyway because Choso was your boyfriend now, but he’d give you a life even better than the first. One where you and he were together.

Like cherry pie, will you be mine?

Now, Choso was a real sweetheart, getting you so many gifts for when you came along, preparing how he’d approach you, compliment you, fuck you. But he was getting a little impatient. At this point, it was already the tail end of courses before winter break so he didn’t have much time to see you every day, even though he’d make that happen regardless. Plus, all of the shit that had happened to you would wear off in a couple of days, so he needed to act now. Choso knew he couldn’t make you fall in love with him overnight, and it would be too hasty to try to take it slow with you now. So, he had no choice. He was gonna kidnap you.

Now, “kidnapping” is a rather strong way to put it. In reality, Choso was gonna come to see you and talk a bit, but if that didn’t work, he’d hold you at knifepoint and make you come back to his dorm with him to enjoy all of the things he’d set up for you! He would never hurt you intentionally, so it’s not like he was gonna use it, but he had to make you think he would. He wished kidnapping you was legal, why wouldn't he want to be able to love you and take care of you all the time? It’s okay, you’d learn to love him back. After all, Choso wasn’t your ‘maybe’. Choso was your ‘one’.

Sweet to the core, I want some more.

Choso decided he’d make his move on you the night of the last Kappa party of the season, too many people for anyone to notice him running off with you, plus he knows you’d look so pretty in your party dress, hair all done up, heels making those legs of yours look so pretty. And you did! Except, you were crying. When Choso got to the party and spotted you, you were sniffling as you walked out the back door of the house. Now, he had to be strategic about this, so he exited out the front in time to catch you walking from the back. When he’d gotten outside, he saw you walking down the sidewalk, but it wasn’t very well, your heel had broken and you were having to walk barefoot. He felt terrible seeing you like that. You looked so sad, so scared, just broken. Choso had to make things right.

“Hey, you okay?”

I love you.

I can hear your words breaking down my core…

You looked up at him with those beautiful doe eyes of yours, bloodshot and watery from crying, but still, you looked stunning.

“Oh, hey Choso. Honestly? No, I’m like not okay at all.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, my ex died and everyone’s making a super big deal about it. Like, people kept coming up to me asking questions and stuff like I was there when he died or something.”

“Oh, um-”

“Sorry, I know I sound like a twat right now, but he cheated on me like all the time! It’s honestly a long shot to say we were even together, not be cocky or anything, but I think he dated me to make himself look better. Plus, he got me in hot water with my sisters, like he’s haunting me after death or whatever.”

“Sounds like he wasn’t really a good guy…”

“Yeah, pretty much. Anyway, now I have to walk back to my stupid dorm with no shoes because I fell over like a klutz and just embarrassed myself to the nines. I don’t even wanna go back there, just makes me sad, ya know? I came out to this stupid party to get my mind off things and it’s like things are just bleh. It doesn’t even feel like anyone likes me anymore. I wish someone just loved me for me, ya know?”

I think about you every day at least a hundred times or more.

Choso walked up and hugged you, bringing you into his embrace. It was a bold move for sure, especially with the knife sheathed on his waist, but he just hated seeing you cry like that. Soon, you’ll feel how nice it is to have someone care about you so much. To have someone who wants to revolve their entire life around you.

“It’s okay. Know you don’t know me very well, but I’m here for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna be too forward or anything, but you can come back to my dorm for a few, that is, if you don’t wanna go back to yours.”

“That’s so sweet, thanks!”

Fuck, this was perfect! He didn’t even have to threaten to kill you! Choso offered to pick you up, which you happily agreed to, holding your heels in your hand as he carried you back to his dorm. On the way, you talked about a bunch of stuff you liked, mostly things he already knew about you, but there were a couple of new things that enticed him. You’d stopped crying, that sweet smile back on your face as you found comfort in Choso’s arms. He’d gotten back to his dorm fairly fast, not wanting to waste much time to get things rolling. He figured he’d start with telling you about his love for you, really seeing if you-

“OMG, YOU HAVE THIS???”

You pointed at the movie poster on his wall, one of your favorite movie. He’d studied it a lot, trying to figure out why you liked it so much. He’d watched it over ten times by now, buying the poster as a touch when you finally came, which worked!

“Yeah, it’s a pretty good-”

“Pretty good? It’s like the best movie ever!”

“We can, uh, watch it if you want.”

“Yes, I’d love that!”

Choso was so lucky. Here you were, sitting with him on his bed as you watched the movie. You’d stop every few minutes and point out something about it you knew a fun fact about or laugh at the parts you’d seen so many times. You were so damn cute. You’d pretty much forgotten all of the stuff going on, able to just relax with him for once. Don’t you see how nice this is? How special things can be?

“Oh wow, it’s getting late. Shit, I still have to walk back.”

Just like that, the movie was over. You looked tired, not just physically but mentally too. You couldn’t leave though, that’s not how this was gonna go.

“Are you sure you’re good to walk?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“I mean, your heels are broken and it’s too dark outside to be out there by yourself. Something could happen to you.”

Fuck, Choso was a little too bold with that last part. He was probably coming on too strong, he’d need to fix-

“You’re worried about little ‘ol me?”

“Something like that…”

YES. He was so fucking worried that sweat was about to drip from his face, red with anxiousness that the love of his life was about to leave him behind.

“Well, you could always walk with me. Or do you just wanna spend more time with me?”

You gave him a little smirk and wink, it went straight to his dick as he tried to think of a way to respond.

“I, um… yeah, I would.”

Your answer to his statement would be the deciding factor between you staying or him picking up that knife from his jacket on the chair. Fortunately for you, you smiled and put your things back down, sitting on the bed as you looked up at him.

“Fine, but we’re gonna watch another movie. Your pick this time.”

You make me afraid, come closer, wait no, go away…

Ten minutes into this movie and he felt like he was gonna fucking explode. This time around, you’d gotten closer to him. Instead of sitting at the end of the bed, you laid beside him, not quite touching you, but he could definitely smell you, and fuck, you smelled so good. It was becoming painful to not touch you, but he couldn’t risk fucking this up. You looked so nice like this, chest moving up and down as you laid comfortably, eyes low, obvious you were getting tired.

“Hey, Choso?”

“What’s up?”

“Thanks for, ya know, being nice to me. I’m not anyone’s favorite these days…”

You looked so sad, but Choso couldn’t be happier. You were starting to recognize the only person who really cares about you is him!

“Yeah, but you’re my favorite.”

“Really? But, you barely know me.”

Choso actually knew you very well. Probably better than you know yourself.

“You’ve just got that type of personality that’s really easy to like, is all.”

You sat up now and looked Choso in the eyes, making him blush instantly.

“Oh yeah? So, you like me?”

Choso started stuttering and sweating, flustered beyond reason as you gave him one of those smirks. At this point, he didn’t even have to tell you. His body language was more than obvious.

“I was just kid-”

“Yes, I mean-”

You both looked at each other in shock. Why the fuck would he say that? You were fucking joking. Choso was stupid to think you were serious, not like he really had any chance with a girl like you. But that’s okay. He was gonna make one. Although, he didn’t know whether to love or hate you right now, most likely both. You looked up at him optimistically, like you were waiting on his response, but also blushing a bit as he nearly popped a blood vessel in front of you. He couldn’t even speak, choked up on his words as you brought your hand on top of the one he had leaning on the bed.

“Tell me, do you?”

“I do, for a while now.”

“So, why not ever talk to me?”

“Because you’re pretty hard to talk to.”

“How’s that?”

“You’re usually, um-”

“A bitch? Yeah, I am. But these past few weeks have humbled me.”

Choso wanted to laugh a little. Of course, it was because of him and the precautions he’s put in place for you two to end up together. You didn’t need to know that part though. You looked down, that same broken look you’d been putting off all night. Everything in him told him to stop, don’t be too hasty and he could probably get back to the plan, but it hurt him to see what he’d caused. It definitely didn’t help that you were crying again, bringing your knees to your chest as you fell into the realization of how messed up you felt. Choso pulled you into his arms, laying your face into his chest as he rubbed your back. You felt so warm, so soft, he didn’t want to let you go. Ever.

“It’s not your fault. So, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“Thanks, you’re right.”

It was hard to feel like the bad guy when you were smiling at him, finding comfort in his words. You two were dangerously close now, eye contact had him feeling like a deer in headlights, while you remained cool and collected, like usual. That’s one of the main things he loved about you, despite all of the crazy shit going on, you still try to appear fine, but that was far from the truth. He’d be a shoulder for you to cry on, someone you could depend on and pour your feelings into. Give your heart to someone who’s worthy of loving you back and spending their every breathing second devoted to keeping you happy.

Saccharine, what I’d do to have you sitting here next to me.

You’d kissed Choso softly, leaning in slowly enough to feel his breath hitch on his lips when he realized what you were doing. It was perfect. Your lips felt even softer than he thought they would, gentle and loving as you brought yourself closer, closing the distance between you. He had to get his head together, he’d practiced this part over and over again, and all he had to do was focus and execute it. First, cup your face with his hand. You smiled into his lips when he did this, allowing him to move to the second step, and bring his hand to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. You softened into his touch as he laid your back on the bed, opening your legs to let him on top of you. You were so sweet, moaning softly into the air as he began sucking the skin of your neck. Choso wanted to claim you, he’d finally gotten to kiss you and he needed everyone to know you were his. He sucked a little harder and felt ecstatic when you didn’t stop him, instead groaning as bruises began to flower on your skin.

“Choso…”

Shit, you moaned his name. It felt exhilarating, something he’s been waiting for for so long finally coming true. It lit a fire under his ass, coming up to kiss your lips once before he brought his lips back down to your collarbones, moving lower as his hand massaged your side. Once he’d reached the skin of your breasts, he’d stopped, looking up to you for the green light to keep going. Even though you didn’t really have a choice in spending the rest of your life with him, consent was still pretty important to him, so when you gave him a nod, he took off. Choso brought his fingers to the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head as you brought your arms up to aid him. God, you were beautiful. Your tits were on full display to him now, nothing covering you but a lacy pink thong. He was gonna start hyperventilating, your tits lifted as you breathed, nipples calling out to him like they needed saving. He brought his lips down swiftly and wrapped his tongue around one of them, immediately putting the other between his fingers to pinch as the rest of his palm massaged your breast. You started whimpering for him now, touch-starved since your boyfriend died, but Choso hoped it was also because he was doing things better than anyone you’d been with before. He alternated his mouth, groping and sucking as much as he could, relishing in the feeling of your tits in his face for the first time. As much as he could stay there all day, he knew you needed more, so he kissed his way down your stomach, lips grazing your pantyline. Choso sucked the skin of your stomach as you bucked your hips against him, turned on as he took care of you.

“Choso, please…”

He looked up into your eyes as he brought his lips off your body, fingers hooking into the fabric of your thong as he pulled them off of you. Holy fuck. You were soaking wet, lips glistening with your juices as your hips shifted slightly to invite Choso in. Without hesitation, he brought his lips down to your pussy, beginning to devour you. You tasted amazing, drinking the nectar of a fruit long awaited and it almost made him regret not planning to kidnap you sooner. You smelled so fucking good too, your pussy engulfing all of his senses as he ate you like his last meal. Your fingers found their way into his hair, moaning his name into the air with every lick of your clit. Sideways, up and down, circles around your bud, anything he could to hear you moan for him, to make your pain go away. He’d brought your legs over his shoulders and rested his hands under the arch of your back, angling your hips so he could eat you exactly how he wanted. Messy and slow, he took his time spreading your juices all over his face as you panted and pulled at the sheets. He was self-indulgent, tongue pumping in and out of you as he lived out his fantasies of eating your pussy.

“Choso…I-I…”

Shit, you were close. Choso was about to make you cum! He doubled down immediately, bringing his arms over your thighs to keep you in place as you felt your orgasm approaching. He’d picked up his pace too, tongue moving at a hungry pace as he anticipated your cum in his mouth. The hand you had in his hair gripped tighter, Choso taking it as a cue to bring his lips up and suck your clit, suction bringing your bud against his tongue. You came fast and hard, grinding your pussy against his face as you came for him, his name slipping off your lips over and over as you rode out your high.

You’re sweet to the core.

You looked so pretty for him, chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. Choso slowly kissed his way back up your body, lips finding themselves on yours. This kiss was different from before, more intense and confident. At that point, you’d already started unbuckling his jeans, kissing him feverishly as you helped him take his clothes off. Hovering over you, he looked at you in awe. Legs on either side of his, big doe eyes looking up at him, waiting for him to fuck you.

“Holy shit…”

Your hands found his hair, gripping and tugging at it as he slipped in at a slow pace. Choso took his time, exploring the walls he longed for the feeling of. Every stroke nearly sent him over, wet and warm, you were like heaven wrapped around his dick. You felt even better than he’d imagined, much better than his fist he fucked to the thought of you. Especially with how you were moaning for him, it was driving him crazy, all he could do was praise you.

“You’re perfect…so fuckin’ perfect…”

“I know…”

God, he’s never felt like this. You were sucking him in like you were made for him, holy shit, he was losing his mind. Touching him, feeling your warmth on his shaft as he fucked you faster. You were so beautiful, lips pursed as you breathed up and down, eyes fluttering as he fucked you.

“You feel so good, baby…”

“Choso…”

His name was killing him. He’d put in so much time to make sure he fucked you exactly the way you needed him, he had to make the first time perfect. A man that could care for you. Love you. Please you. Choso finally had you, and he was going to give you the fucking world.

I need to hate you before it's too late…

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby…”

Choso gripped your legs tight as he fucked into you fast, making you scream his name out into the room. You were doing this for him! Moaning for him! And you felt so fucking good wrapped around him, more than anyone ever before. There wasn’t anyone before you and there wasn’t anyone before him. Your world would revolve around him now like his revolved around you, every waking moment of being in love would be magical.

“Choso, I-”

“Let me have it, baby. I’ve waited so long for it…”

He didn’t care what he was saying anymore, too high on you and your pleasure that he couldn’t think straight. If you were gonna cum for him, he needed it now, like his life depended on it. Something to signify the beginning of all of the pleasure he’d give you from this point forward.

“You know how long I’ve wanted this, baby? Fuck, I’m close…”

“That’s it, baby, let go, let me make you feel good…”

“So pretty, cumming on my dick like this…”

Choso was so fuckin obsessed with you. You came down like an angel, eyes fluttering as you murmured his name softly, body melting into the bed. He halted inside you as he came, losing his mind over the way your nails dug into his arms. You two lay there panting for a bit, Choso’s arm bringing you into his chest. So beautiful like this. He’d finally made it, you in his arms, right where you belonged.

Before I crave you…so please go away.

“So, I’m not going back to my dorm tonight, am I?”

No, of course, you weren’t.

“Do you really want-”

“I don’t want to.”

Choso was shocked to hear your words. You actually wanted to stay here with him, he didn’t even have to scare you into doing it!

“Do you have a T-shirt or something? It’s kinda cold in here.”

“Uh, yeah, let me grab-”

“No problem, I’ll get it!”

Stop it. FUCKING STOP. You were getting too comfortable, about to open Pandora’s box with your hand on his closet door. Choso should stop you, whatever it would take. By the time he’d gotten to the knife, you’d opened the closet, pictures of you all over the walls. Choso lingered behind you now, knife behind his back as he waited for your reaction. You just had to be so fuckin nosy, you’d ruined everything.

“Choso…are these pictures of me?”

He gripped the knife tightly in his hand as he watched you look through them. He couldn’t even speak, heartbreak and murderous intent flowing out of him. Every picture put another pin in his heart. Photos of you around campus, through your dorm window, in class, all open for you to see. You brought your hand up to one, pulling it down as you looked over it. The picture he took of you on Valentine’s Day. You’d been sitting in class that day, sad because Megumi hadn’t gotten you anything, which Choso figured he wouldn’t. That’s why he had three dozen roses delivered to you on the lawn later that day, eyes brightening as you held them and read the card: “Happy Valentine’s Day, Princess. ~ your secret admirer.” You were so damn happy that day, so perfect. Now, you had to die.

“It was you, huh? All this-”

“Yes. It was always me.”

You pulled another one down, the one of you winning Miss Sophomore. Your face had the brightest smile, holding that crown on your head as you cried tears of joy. You smirked at it, cheeks blushing a bit.

“I look really good in this one, glad someone got a shot of it. So, you liked me this much?”

You’d turned to look at him now, giving him a confused face. Probably because Choso was sweating buckets. His hand shook behind him as he looked at you nervously, analyzing everything about you, any sign that you were scared or wanted to leave.

“I’d call it more than that.”

“So, why not-”

“Because I wanted things to be perfect. I wanted to be perfect for you.”

You gave him a nervous nod and turned back to the closet, pulling down a photo of you in your room back at the Kappa house.

“How’d you do it?”

“I…huh?”

“How’d you take this without getting caught?”

You looked back at him now, a serious look on your face that told him he better fuckin’ answer. What was he gonna do? There was no point in lying to you, everything was there for you to see.

“I learned you and the other girl’s schedules to make sure everyone was asleep.”

“So, what else ya got? Pictures can’t be the only thing.”

Choso pointed to the top shelf of the closet hesitantly. You brought down the bin carefully, sitting it down on his desk as you opened the lid.

“What the fuck, Choso? I was looking everywhere for this lipgloss!”

You’d begun rummaging through the bin, picking up things in remembrance of when you lost them. A couple of hair ties, eyeliner, lipstick napkins. You acted as if there was nothing wrong with this, and it was making it really hard for Choso to read you. His hand alternated between wanting to drop the knife or use it, heart pulsing frantically as you tried on old jewelry of yours. Satisfied with your findings, you moved back to the closet, pulling down the other box on the shelf. The one with his gifts for you.

“Wait! You’re not supposed to see that yet!”

“What is it?”

“It’s something really special... just please, you’re gonna ruin everything!”

You shot him a concerned look and rolled your eyes, walking back over to the bed to take a seat.

“Answer a couple of questions for me, ‘kay?”

“I-I…”

“Question one, when did this start?”

“...Freshman year, rush week…the first time we met…”

You looked at him surprised. That meant he’d been stalking in love with you for almost four years now and never acted on it.

Just confiscate you, my teeth are in pain…

“Question two, what’s behind your back?”

“Nothing…important…”

Choso was shaking in fear, so much so, he dropped the fucking knife. You both watched it fall to the floor behind him, your mouth agape in shock as he frantically bent over to pick it up. He couldn’t tell what was more awkward, him dropping it on the floor or him picking it up and sitting it on his desk like nothing happened.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU GONNA DO WITH THAT?”

“DAMAGE CONTROL.”

“FOR WHAT?”

“FOR WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!”

“YOU WERE GONNA STAB ME?”

“NO, I WAS JUST GONNA MAKE SURE YOU DIDN’T LEAVE!”

“ARE YOU FUCKIN’ CRAZY?”

“I’M NOT CRAZY, I’M IN LOVE!”

You scoffed and chuckled, stunned at his statement. Choso was bright red, on the verge of a panic attack. So many thoughts, so many mistakes, you knew almost everything now. All of the things he wanted to do for you, show you, give you, it all meant nothing now. Still, you sat there completely calm, aside from the fact the guy who just fucked your brains out was possibly about to kill you.

“Question three, this is an important one. Did you kill Megumi?”

“It was ruled a death from natural causes.”

“Yeah, tell that shit to someone else, did you kill him?”

Choso didn’t really care to hide things now, too far gone. Especially not how he got rid of that asshole you called a boyfriend.

“Yes, I did; and I don’t regret it.”

“How’d you do it?”

“I poisoned him with Ricin.”

“RICIN? HOW THE FU-”

“I put it inside of a box I told him was supposed to be for you.”

“Why?”

“Because he was a terrible boyfriend to you and you didn’t deserve to be with a guy who couldn’t even remember your birthday. Not to mention, he would’ve never died if he didn’t open what was meant for you, nosy fucker.”

“So, you were jealous? Most people would just beat the guy’s ass, you definitely knocked it out the park with that one.”

“Yes, he didn’t deserve to have you! He took you for granted when there was somebody much more fit to make you happy!”

“And that’s you?”

“Yes, just…please…don’t leave. Not before I make things perfect for you!”

You sat back on your hands, thinking a bit and bouncing your leg. Choso had said too much. Not only did he admit to killing Megumi, but now if you really did hate him, you could get him arrested too. Which meant you two would have to live apart. That was no longer an option.

“Even If I wanted to leave, I don’t think you’d actually give me the choice. Plus, it’s kinda…sweet?”

“Sweet?...”

“Yeah, never had someone like me this much, let alone kill my boyfriend to get closer to me.”

“So, you’re not mad?”

“No, not really. Well, maybe for planning to stab me. Not like I can make you untake the pics, but I’ll need some of my stuff back. I’m more impressed than anything. I’m not even gonna ask how you got the Ricin or half of this stuff.”

Choso didn’t know how to feel, or how to react. Why were you so calm about this? Why weren’t you scared? Why were you still here willingly? He couldn’t move at all, locked in place in fear as he watched you get into the bed and turn on another movie.

“You gonna come lay with me or just stand there?”

“I just…I-”

You sat straight up now, looking him dead in the eyes as his body quivered in reaction.

“What’s your deal, huh? Didn’t you kill a guy to be with me?”

“Yes, technically, I-”

“So, be with me, Choso! Unless you’re just like a murderer or whatever, that’s kinda fucked up.”

I'm gonna break you before I can say…

Choso was lost for fuckin’ words. You were laying on his chest now, holy shit, he was losing his mind. Touching him, feeling your warmth as you finally relaxed. Everything he had done to get you with him had paid off. You were so perfect, lips pursed while you breathed up and snuggled your face into him. Just his sweet, sweet girl.

“So, the whole, um, thing…”

“What, you being fucking insane?”

“I’m not insane, just very dedicated to the woman I love!”

“Well, the way I see it, all my other boyfriends couldn’t stop looking at other girls, but you? You’re perfect, you’re already obsessed with me! Just don’t kill anyone else, ‘kay?”

“I’ll try.”

I love you.

♱ the song used in this story is saccharine by jazmin bean. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years

Text

A continuation of Sweet On You and Sugar, Sugar

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.8k] best friends to lovers, sofa sex, who doesn't have a praise kink?

Honestly, there was a part of Steve that felt somewhat selfish in how the night was evolving.

He had you, his best friend, in his lap, dress pushed up your thighs, long legs over his and your hands in his hair, telling him how you wanted to touch him. It was a fucking wet dream, if he was honest.

And when you had whispered that you didn’t know what you were doing, lips brushing his, a flush over your skin, lips kiss bitten, he felt like a man unravelled. He had to take a deep breath, maybe two, maybe three before he could talk again, chest burning and god, he was painfully hard underneath you.

He knew you’d slept with other guys, but fucking hell he wanted to slap them all across the back of their heads for not taking their time with you, for not showing you how good all this could be. You looked nervous, like you were worried you’d said something wrong and he wondered if he could ever express to you how far from the truth that was.

He felt like he’d taken a shot of espresso, dived off of the edge of the quarry, ran a red light and ripped out of Hawkins, seatbelt off, one hundred and twenty miles an hour, straight to you.

Steve swallowed, wondering if you knew how nervous you made him, how your hands felt in his hair. He wondered if you knew that when you were both sixteen, you’d walked into his backyard one day with a pitcher of pink lemonade in your hands, a cherry red bikini on and that was it.

You’d wrecked him.

“I could teach you,” he whispered, wondering if it was the right thing to say, if he should’ve stopped altogether and not gone any further. ‘Cause you were his best friend and the idea of losing you was more terrifying than anything he’d ever had to take down with a baseball bat.

But he couldn’t fucking stop himself. Not when your lips parted at his words, interest and something else flickering in the dark of your eyes. He wondered if you knew that you were still moving your hips over him, waist twisting from side to side, just a little, just enough for the friction to burn between you both. Steve felt like he needed to put his fist through a wall, dunk his head under water.

He didn’t know he was holding his breath, waiting for an answer, until you said nodded. It rushed out of him like a tidal wave, heart hammering and feeling like he was sixteen again.

“I’d like that,” you murmured, voice coy and Steve had to close his eyes for a second, stars behind his lids, your quiet laugh filling the space between you both.

Bolstered by how flustered he was, you moved again, hips shifting with pressure as you crowded him, pressing a kiss to his top lip first before moving to his bottom. You let your tongue flick over the curve of it, grinning when he muttered out a string of curses that tasted like vodka and lemonade.

“Can you show me?” You blinked prettily, hand hover over the buckle of his belt, heart in your throat, ‘cause if you hadn’t already crossed the line, you were both about to vault over it now.

Steve chest was heaving, eyes fixed on you as if he was waiting for you to change your mind.

“Y’sure?” He asked, hand over yours, fingers twisted as you tapped a lilac painted fingernail over his metal button.

“Pretty sure, Harrington,” you nodded and suddenly everything was moving again.

A little slower now, anticipation building, the room still cloaked in the dark, the only light coming from the one that was left on in the kitchen, it’s faint flow barely flooding in through the archway. It painted stripes of gold over your thighs, a slither of it across one of the boys eyes, turning chocolate brown to caramel.

Your hand found the hem of Steve’s shirt, his answer to your silent question lying in the small tilt of his head and you lifted it as he stretched out his arms for you and the material fell somewhere behind you both, a dull thump against the coffee table.

Hair mussed, eyes wild, bare chested, you took him in. His hands had a vice grip on your waist, fitting perfectly into the dip there, the silky material of tour dress scrunched messily in his grasp, lifting the hem higher and higher until all he saw was skin.

You mouthed at his jaw, his neck, sucking a little bruise there that you know you’d see in the morning, gathering courage from the things you knew what to do, the things you knew felt good. Your nose nudged his as you moved to lips, mouths brushing, eyes closed in bliss.

“You’re so pretty,” you told him, voice breathy, “the prettiest boy.”

And if Steve had any issue with your choice of words, he didn’t say, his breath just fell a little heavier as his hands wandered, palms flats against your hips until they found their way underneath your dress, smoothing over the curve of your ass. His thumb found the edge of your underwear, filling beneath the lace of it and making himself groan.

He cursed, his words tumbling from his lips in a hiss, stretched out in a moan. He was going insane, he thought, he was dreaming surely. But your hands were back on his belt buckle and this time you tapped, once, twice, against the metal. A silent question that he had to answer.

He pulled back to meet your gaze, eyes darker than you’d ever seen then, lips a little swollen and glossy from where he’d pushed them to yours over and over again. You watched him swallow, throat bobbing and the sight of it all make you wanna press your thighs together.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Steve breathed out, eyes softening a little as he lifted a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. His palm smoothed down your jaw and you hummed as you leaned into it, happy to feel his touch against you. “We really doing this?”

“You told me that if I said it,” you swallowed hard, nerves and anticipation and ten years of friendship tumbling in your stomach. “That you were mine.”

Steve nodded, fingertips dancing along your jawline, fluttering down the line of your neck as if he didn’t know where he wanted to touch you, as if he couldn’t possibly stop touching you.

“I just don’t wanna fuck this up, don’t wanna disappoint you…”

You were already shaking your head at his words, wondering how the boy in front of you - under you - could possibly think he’d be a let down. You were still shifting over him, rocking yourself against the hard length of him in his jeans, little by little.

“You won’t, you couldn’t,” you replied and well, if you sounded a little desperate, it was only because you’d been in love with Steve for far too long and the seam of his denim jeans was hitting up against exactly where you wanted.

You gave a small tug at his belt, watched in awe as his eyes flashed, his jaw tightened. The muscle there jumped and you wanted to bite down on it but Steve hands found their way to your hips again, fingers digging into the flesh there, just enough to make your jaw a little slack. His head was back against the sofa again, as if it was too much effort to keep it up and he looked at you from under his lashes, eyes hooded.

“Say it,” he whispered, “say it, please.”

Your hand stroked over the leather, the metal buckle that was now warm from where you gripped it. You could feel him against your palm, trapped right under his jeans and warm and hard against you. Steve’s hand was on the move, fingertips smoother up your knee, leaving lightning and heat on your leg until they dipped underneath the edge of your underwear, stroking over the soft, sensitive skin on the crease of your thigh.

It was suddenly so much harder to speak.

“I want you,” you murmured and despite what you’d already said, how you’d already pressed your body and mouth against the boy, this felt like letting go of a life long secret and it burned as it left your lips.

You thought that maybe things would go fast from there, at your words, your admission. Like it did in the movies, like it did in the back of seat of Jeremy Richards car, Kyle Mowbrays basement. All fast hands, hard thrusts, loud moaning.

But Steve just let out a breath, like he’d been holding it as he waited for your answer, before he cupped a hand to the back of your neck and brought you into him. His nose bumped at yours, a little playful before he leaned up from where he was reclined, just enough to dust some kisses over your lips, the corner of your mouth. He whispered his own secret into your skin, voice low and rough.

“I want you too.”

You tugged at his belt with no resistance now, his hands tightening on you as if he needed to steel himself for what was about to happen. The leather slapped against itself, the sound echoing in the large room and the buckle clinked prettily as it fell open. Your hand fumbled with the button, your brow creasing and your heart speeding up but you were stopped by the feel of Steve’s hand covering your own.

His mouth found your throat, sucking a small kiss there, stilling your movements, giving you a bruise that would match his.

“You’re good, babe,” he soothed, feeling the way your hands shook under his own, “I got you, here.”

And with that, he popped the button with deft fingers, his hand moving around yours without taking it away. He let you pull at the zip, teeth on your bottom lip as the sound of it crackled through the air. He nodded against you, nose pressed on the line of your throat, encouraging but never pushy.

You reached for him, tagging at his boxers, feeling him hot and hard and heavy in your palm as you pulled the length of him out. Steve’s response was immediate, his body tensing below you, his moan that he pressed into your neck, open mouthed and panting. He shuffled beneath you, let his jeans shuck down his hips a little and you rubbed your thumb over the tip of him experimentally, eyebrows raising when he bucked into your hand.

“I wanna make you feel good,” you told him, eyes full of doubt, heart hammering like you were sixteen again and this was the first time playing anything other than spin the bottle at some kids' basement party.

“Oh, trust me sweetheart,” Steve groaned, eyes clenched shut, head tipped back, “you are.”

“Show me,” you told him, voice a little pleading and Steve was going insane with it, your little hand still wrapped around him, your pretty words sounding like they came straight from his own personal wet dreams.

“Jus’ give me a minute, huh?” He whispered, voice shot as he tried his fucking hardest not to come all over your hand then and there. “You’re too pretty babe, goddamn, you’re too much.“

You flushed at the praise, body warm, eyes shining and you leaned into him, chasing his lips from where his head was resting against the back of the sofa. Your chest met his and you trapped him in your hand, pressed between both your stomachs and Steve’s fingers were tugging at your underwear, both of you panting into the kiss.

“I wanna touch you,” he groaned, impatient and needy, “wanna make you feel good too, fuck, please.”

You nodded, fast and desperate and he caught the whine that left you with his tongue, licking into your mouth a little dirtier now. You felt him twitch in your palm, and it made you throb, made you feel wild.

“I know, shit, I know,” you gasped, the pad of his thumb running over the cotton of your underwear, down the centre of you, pressing into where you were wet. “Steve, please.”

He wanted to tap your leg, tell you to be a good girl and stand up for him so he could drag the material down your legs, so he could flip up the skirt of your pretty dress and press a kiss to where he wanted to. He wondered if you tasted good everywhere, he wondered what sounds you’d made for him, if the feel of you on his tongue alone would be enough to make him fall apart.

He was pretty fucking sure it would.

But your hand was wrapping itself around him tighter now, moving down to the base of him and squeezing. He could tell your movements were still unsure, could feel it in the way you were holding yourself uptight and stiff but he moaned, an almost whimper falling from his mouth and he reached between you both with his other hand, wrapping it around your own fist.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, voice soft and broken, “Atta girl, fuck.”

His hand covered yours, guiding gently as you fisted your own up and down the length of him. The only sounds were your heavy breathing, Steve’s harsh pants that he pressed into your neck, his lips pushing kisses to your throat and shoulders when he could.

He squeezed you, applying a little more pressure and you did, twisting your wrist a little as you got to his head, thumb stroking over him. His hips lifted into you and you couldn’t help but roll your own back down, meeting him halfway, both groaning with desperation.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Steve cried out, head heavy as he dropped it against your shoulder. “You’re gonna make me come.”

The boy would’ve been embarrassed if it had been anyone else, at how quickly he was falling apart from just the touch of your hand, but it was you. You were new but familiar, you felt exciting and like coming home, new places to touch and kiss, the same warm eyes looking up at him.

You felt like his.

His words had you breathless, your hand fisting over him with more confidence now, palm slick from how excited he was and you gasp ripped through you when Steve’s fingers pulled at the cotton of your underwear, dress rucked up messy at your hips so he could watch how he touched you.

He pushed the material to the side, too blissed out to ask you to stand up so he could take them off of you and you found that you didn’t care one bit. Your arms tangled between your bodies, hands moving over the other as you chased the high you were both so desperate to give.

You felt Steve’s thumb part your folds, swiping through the slick that had gathered, and he groaned, low and deep, his kiss bruising. He held the tip of his finger at your entrance, circling slowly, making you whine and gasp out, nodding your head, turning the kiss messy.

“Please, fuck, please Steve, yes,”

“Yeah?” Steve mumbled, and god, he sounded wrecked, asking you a question you didn’t know the answer to. You just nodded, forehead pressed to his cheek as held you to him, his other hand leaving yours and petting over your hair in an attempt to settle the way you were grinding over him. “S’okay, I got you.”

He slipped his finger into you, eyes gazing in awe at the way you fell apart for him, your reaction immediate. You fisted your hand around his length faster in response, a move that had him moaning, you other hand pushed at the hem of your dress, bringing the material higher across your hips and you hooked a finger around the thin material of your underwear, keeping it out of the way so Steve could slip another digit into you, thumbing at your clit and staring, wide eyed.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart, that’s it, good girl.”

His jaw went slack with your actions, bold despite your previous whispers and secrets of not knowing what to do. You were a fucking vixen on his lap, eyes desperate, lips kiss bitten and chest flushed. He watched one of the straps of your dress slip down your shoulder, taunting and teasing.

He pressed a kiss to the skin it revealed, teeth grazing the edge of your collarbone as he sped up his movements, matching the way your fist was twisting over him, up and down. He could feel your hand shifting against his lower stomach, the muscles there tensing at every pass, every brush.

Steve groaned as you tightened around him, fingers slipping in and out of with ease, thighs shaking, sighing and whimpering prettily at every pass of his thumb over your clit.

“M’close,” you stuttered, lips twisted into a pout as you tried to move a little faster, to try and get a little more of him. Steve.

But he nodded, jaw slack, gaze lustful and lazy, leaning back into the couch again to let you move the way you wanted and he let out the most sinful noise as he watched you ride his fingers, hips twisting and rocking.

Steve felt like he was in fucking fire.

But then you pulled your hand away, just for a second, just long enough for you to lick a wet strip across your fingers before you wrapped them back around him, speeding up your efforts with slick renewal.

He swore his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he was panting, huffing out hot, quick breaths as he flicked his gaze between his fingers inside you, your small hand wrapped around him and the way you were watching him, lashes casting shadows over your cheeks, pink lips parted and pretty, sighing his name.

His free hand grabbed yours, pressing your intertwined fingers to your cheek, cupping you there so he could bring you into him, chests flushed, fingers and hands moving frantic and messy between your bodies and he kissed you as if he’d never get another chance.

Steve couldn’t remember the last time he came that hard. He felt you clench around his fingers, keening into his kiss, legs shaking, bottom lip and wobbling between his as your orgasm hit you. He held you to him, curling his fingers into you to draw out every last moan and gasp he could get, his own body twitching hot underneath you, thighs tightening, liquid heat pooling inside of him.

He came over your hand, hot and messy, your name tumbling from his lips in a low groan, voice wrecked, eyes squeezed shut. You were sure you’d have finger sized bruises on your thighs tomorrow, lilac and rose marks that would match the ones he’d left on your neck.

The room was silent apart from the way you both gasped for air, panting hard into each other, chests heaving and skin a little slick. You both shifted, you underwear snapping back into place and your dress fell back down, pretty across your thighs as Steve slipped his fingers from your carefully.

You closed your eyes at the loss of him, sparks shouting up your spine as he thumbed affectionately over the cotton, humming at how wet the material was. You steadied yourself with a hand on his bare chest, muscles twitching under your touch and before you could lose the bravery you’d gained from his hands on you, you leaned in and caught his lips with yours.

It was a slower kiss, but just as deep, lazy like the night, velvet and sweet. He caught your bottom lip with his, sucked a little, a flick of tongue and teeth as he cupped the back of your head, bringing you closer until your noses were smushed against the others cheek, lips lifting at the corners with a smile.

“I know it’s late,” he murmured, “but we should probably shower, huh?”

His hand caught yours in a way that made your worries fade; the unanswered questions could be said tomorrow, when you were both mussed from sleep, bones lazy, bodies tangled.

Steve was looking at you in a way that told you everything you needed to know.

So you nodded, scrunching your nose at your sticky hands and laughing when he did, but you let him guide you up the stairs with his hand on the small of your back, still burning heat into your skin through your dress. He handed you one of his shirts to wear after your shower, your favourite, his old basketball training shirt, that had his surname printed on the back.

And when you crawled into bed with Steve, skin still damp and smelling like his body wash, he pulled you to his side, arm around you, your head on his chest and the clock was flashing it’s red digits at you, three twenty nine am.

You heard the buzz of cicadas outside, the window open to let in what was left of the summer air, the heat from the afternoon sun still lingering in its breeze and you let it wash over you both, sheets kicked to the bottom of the mattress and limbs intertwined.

“I meant what I said, you know,” Steve whispered, his words soft and pressed into your cheek, just by your ear.

You turned to him, close enough that the tips of your noses almost brushed and you blinked at him sleepily, one hand coming up to smooth the mess of his hair away from his eyes. You urged him to continue with the brush of you lips across his jaw, your head tilted upwards to catch him in an almost kiss.

He closed his eyes at the feel of it, humming prettily at you, his hand soothing circles over your back.

“What I said in the kitchen,” he murmured, voice soft and sleepy, “that I’m yours.”

You pulled back just enough to catch his gaze when he peeked out at you from beneath his lashes. He looked nervous, like everything that happened on the living room couch was a one off, a chance taken between two friends who were fuelled by the leftover effects of cheap beer and weed.

“Don’t want any other girls.”

But you smiled at him, that wide kinda smile that made your lips hurt and your eyes shine. That dimples in your cheeks kinda smile, that heart aching, chest bursting kinda smile.

You twisted your lips to try and hide it, for why you weren’t sure, ‘cause the boy caught it, was looking back at you the same way and you nodded, suddenly coy.

“Good.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington one shot #stranger things fic #stranger things

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cherhys · 1 year

Text

Anything, Always

Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Rhysand has been running himself ragged, and it hasn’t escaped your notice. In an effort to quell old nightmares, Rhysand has an interesting suggestion…

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: Mild angst (pining + UTM reminder whoops), Feelings™️

Notes: The longest fic to date! I was working on some Azriel WIPs when this piece just happened. I wanted Rhys to get some well-deserved, utterly devoted, loving. Thank you for all the support so far; it means more than you know! ♡

You noticed that as the week has passed, you’ve seen less and less of Rhys around the townhouse. First, it was less frequented dinners, followed by mornings spent alone. Being High Lord is no easy task, but it’s all the more reason for you to lend a helping hand where possible. Instead, all of your offers have been promptly shut down with a wry smile leaving little room for argument since it's nothing more than I usually deal with, darling.

His words echo in your head as you approach his office, the ease with which he said them in juxtaposition with the dark circles beneath his eyes. You doubt he’s been sleeping very well; it was no secret that the High Lord preferred staying up in the evenings, but he always reclaimed that sleep the following morning. Recently you’ve observed his absence from the townhouse in favour of training even before Cassian, the earliest morning bird you know. This simply could not go on—he had to take care of himself. A male like him deserved better than that.

The door to his study was closed and after a brief knock, you slowly cracked it open to peer inside. His head didn’t so much as lift from where he was scanning his papers, a crease between his ink-dark eyebrows. The evening light filtered through the windows behind him, casting him in an iridescent glow befitting his title. He had changed into a loose linen shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal solid tan forearms corded with prominent veins. He scrubbed a calloused hand along his uncharacteristically scruffy jaw. The usual sparkle in his jewel-tone eyes was lost to his evident lack of sleep.

Despite this, he was still the most beautiful male you’ve ever beheld. Even feeling ragged, Rhysand was nothing short of magnificent. No amount of stress could take away from his plush lips, the delicate column of his neck, and the elegant sweep of his collarbones leading to the strong planes of his chest. The age-old flutter in your chest surfaced, a delicate thing you had neglected for so long.

“You can come in, darling.” Finally, those tired eyes lifted to yours where you stood in the doorway. When you don’t move he sweeps a hand towards the cushioned chairs before his rich mahogany desk. You quash any semblance of that flutter until a deep void is all that remains in your chest; a talent you had mastered after all these years.

“I’d say I’m surprised to find my dearest High Lord secluded in his office on a Friday evening, but I made an oath not to lie.” You idle your way in, running your finger along the books on his shelf. You frown at the faint layer of dust over his more loved collections.

“Well, Friday evening or not, doesn’t my dearest advisor have work to do instead of chatting me up like some girl at Rita’s?” Like a delicate brush stroke, his ebony brow arched. Rhysand’s eyes tracked your approach as you walked around the spacious office, feet padding against the soft carpet. The snack you had brought him earlier remained untouched on his desk, and you clenched your clasped hands behind your back.

“Girls at bars aren't worth my time, though it wouldn’t hurt for you to try. All you do is hide away here; you’ll have the year-end papers done at this rate.”

He shrugged, nonchalant, “Better to be more prepared than found lacking, no?”

You stopped before his desk and stared, “It’s only springtime Rhysand.” At your unflinching gaze, he sighed.

“I was unimpressed with some of the projections submitted by the Court of Nightmares. Sloppy work.” His jaw worked in time to the pulse in his neck. You nodded, acquiescing as much. As Rhysand’s advisor, you were expressly aware of the substandard documents that Kier had submitted. Despite his abysmal summation of the Court of Nightmare’s projections, Kier could receive a verbal (or literal) lashing later.

“Rhys, this isn’t an express concern at the moment.” He dropped his head back to his papers, dipping the fountain pen in the inkwell. The sound of your breathing and scratching on parchment permeated the silence. The dismissal was clear, though surprisingly cruel from your usual playful High Lord.

“Rhys, look at me.” Despite your pleading tone, he remained fixed on his writing. In a few swift steps, you rounded the desk. You placed a gentle hand beneath his chin, lifting his face to your searching eyes. Where his silence was defiant, now there is only weariness.

“Rhysand… what’s wrong honey?” The endearment slips out, but your chest constricts at the sight of the defeated male before you. You miss your charming friend. Your thumb lightly caresses his cheek and his lashes flutter at the sensation. He gives you a wry smile and grips your fingers in his warm hand, “Nothing is wrong. I’m only a little tired.”

You breathed deeply, willing yourself to remain calm. Rhysand was known to undertake everything by himself, an expression of his love towards his family. While you appreciate the care he tries to show, his selflessness couldn’t happen at the expense of his well-being. This was something different.

Your silence unnerved the usually unshakeable male, and he seemed to deflate under your scrutiny. So you waited—let him process his thoughts, choose what he wanted to say.

When his grip tightened on your hand but his silence persisted, you offered an olive branch.

“I have never been able to share my feelings with ease; to feel so much… it is an overwhelming burden. And yet–” You took a steadying breath, hesitant to reveal so much but unable to help him understand otherwise. His expectant gaze was patient, if not encouraging.

“And yet, unravelling my feelings and sharing them with you is effortless. With you, I know I am safe. That I am understood. Rhysand, I want to be that person for you. You are welcome to share, and I will always be there to listen.”

When you finished, you shifted to perch on the desk space poised between his legs. Rhysand unconsciously moved his chair closer, his head pressing into your jointly entwined hands. He slowly inhaled, the scent of you a balm to his fraying senses.

“They’re back. She’s back,” Rhys didn’t need to elaborate on who and what for you to catch his meaning. You had known that nightmares plagued him often in the time since his return from Under the Mountain. Years had passed since then but the horrors he endured were not easily forgotten, “I don’t know what to do.”

The defeat in his tone nearly brought tears to your eyes, but you reigned them in—this was his opportunity to be vulnerable and you must remain strong.

“I think about all of the lives I–... I think about all of it, often. It is never not on my mind, but I can usually move past it. You all help,” At this, he squeezed your palm again, an earnest look in his violet eyes, “But sometimes the guilt–” He loosed a sigh, shaking his head, “It is unbearable.’

Rhysand pulled his hand away from yours, leaving it cold. He stared down at his hands between you both as if all of his sins were still visible. To him, you’re sure they were.

His voice was lowered to a whisper now, “When I sleep, she taunts me. She stokes that guilt from an ember to a flame and eats away at me. All I can think to do is run myself ragged, in some form of masochistic repenting.”

Rhys glances up at you, his heart dropping when he sees your eyes are closed. Even you couldn’t bear to look at him after what he had done. Clenching his jaw, he begins to pull away and prepares for your imminent disgust.

He doesn’t expect you to grip his cheeks, and pull him back to you. Rhysand’s eyes are comically large this close, your noses a hair's breadth away from touching. He has never seen your mouth set in such a serious line, your eyes blazing with such fire.

“Listen to me very closely. Everything you did? It was necessary for survival. For yours. For the Night Court’s. For our family’s. It is only normal to feel guilt—that’s what makes you the wonderful, kind male I know.” Your hands pressed almost painfully, as if you could physically push the words into his head, “But you should never regret what you did. Because it brought you back to us.” To me, but you left that part unspoken.

When he seems to hesitate you reinforce, “Any of us would’ve done it for you. If I could've traded places with you I would have done so in a heartbeat, Rhysand. And it kills me to see you blame yourself. You can repay those you mourn by living your life to the fullest in their honour.”

He regards you for a moment, plush lip pulled tightly between his teeth. Rhysand nods slowly at your searching stare, the sorrow clearing from his eyes like clouds in a bright night sky. Those stars you so love wink back at you from his midnight gaze.

Unable to help yourself, you swoop him up into your tight embrace. Rhys’s strong arms wrap around you in no time, his head at your breast. He can hear the rapid but sure beating of your heart and it brings him a peace that he hasn’t felt since the nightmares returned.

“Thank you.” His soft words lift your heart and you place a swift kiss on the top of his head.

“Always.”

You stroke his raven hair in soothing motions, running your nails lightly along his scalp. Rhys visibly relaxes in your hold, his shoulders slumping with a weight unloaded. You dare to enjoy the moment, knowing that the likes of these are few and far between; you seldom let yourself get this close, the ache in your heart too much.

Finally, you pull away, a determined look on your face, “How can I help you, Rhys?”

His face softened, and he let out a light chuckle, “I doubt you can, darling. This is just one of those things.”

“It most certainly will not be one of those things. There has to be something; maybe if we help you relax? A sleeping draught?”

He winced at that, “No sleeping draughts, preferably. I’m not fond of drugging myself.”

You scratched your chin, “No, that doesn’t seem sustainable long term.”

While you brainstormed ideas to help the male before you, Rhys glanced at you through thick lashes. He had begun to fiddle with the fountain pen, twisting the top, “I think I may have a suggestion.”

You snapped out of your thoughts, “Already? What is it?” A beaming smile stretched across your face—anything. You would do anything to help him.

He locked his eyes on yours, voice level, “Sleep with me.”

You blinked, unmoving. You stared at him a few seconds longer, the words failing to process. You’re sure you must have stopped breathing, the thumping of your heart overwhelming your senses.

Sleep with me.

A nervous laugh bubbled out of you, “I’m sorry? ‘Sleep with you’?”

A million thoughts were spinning in your head, each faster than the last. Slick skin on skin; hands fisted in sheets, in hair, scratching down a tan, tatted back; clothes haphazardly strewn around the room; pleasurable pants filling the air. You shook your head. Surely you had misheard? Misunderstood?

A cocky smile spread across Rhysand’s face, although the dusting of pink crawling up his neck isn't lost on you.

What dirty thoughts are you thinking, darling? That midnight voice lightly caressed your mental shields.

Your cheeks were flaming if the heat under your skin was anything to go by. You persevered and pursed your lips in mock irritation. You would not be undone by his aimless teasing after all these years.

Nothing that would involve the likes of you, the thought pushed right back at his adamantine mental shield.

Rhysands thick lashes lowered, his bottom lip jutting slightly. You wondered what those plush lips would taste like. Although you knew he was playing at seducing you, it didn’t stop the primal need in you from rearing its ugly head.

Would it truly be so bad with me, darling? You know I’d treat you well.

Your lashes fluttered; this had to stop before your heart wilted any further in your chest.

“What is your real suggestion Rhys?” The serious cock of your brows sobered him up near immediately. The twinge in his chest only further cooled him; the way you brushed his teasing off irritated him for reasons beyond what he dared admit.

“It is my real suggestion. I struggle with my sleep—therefore having you there will help.” The cool way he spoke, as if this was only a logical solution, helped to put you at ease. But you couldn’t help but wonder—

“Why me? How would I help?”

He shrugged, “You seem peaceful.”

Your mind whirred at his laconic response. ‘Peaceful’? You couldn’t decide what to make of the situation, but one thing had always been clear.

“I said I’d help you, however I could. If you believe me… sleeping beside you will be beneficial, then I’ll do it.”

He nodded, the same calm look plastered on his face. Rhysand’s nonchalant manner bothered you: did this genuinely mean so little to him? If so, then you would treat it with the same aloof, professional fashion.

“Alright then, we can try tonight if you’re willing?”

His ink-dark eyebrows shot up, “You wish to begin right away?”

“The sooner the better, no?” You couldn’t allow any more sleepless nights; the faster you determined whether this would work, the more time you had to find different options before Rhys ran on empty.

Rhysand’s head tilted, a panther sizing up its prey. Finally, he nodded in agreeance.

Quickly, you stood from his desk, realizing you were still perched between his legs. You dusted off your skirts and swiftly moved to the door. With a hand on the frame, you turned, “Tonight in yours?”

He swallowed, your eyes tracking the bobbing of his Adam's apple along his smooth neck, “Yes, that’ll work just fine darling.”

You stepped away from his office, the final, sure look in Rhysand’s eyes burning through you even hours later.

♡𝌀𝌀𝌀♥𝌀𝌀𝌀♡

You nervously tugged on your silken sleep shorts, psyching yourself up to knock on Rhysand’s bedroom door.

After leaving his office earlier, your heart had been in your throat all day. Even at dinner in the House of Wind, you’d had to be snapped out of thought multiple times by members of your family. While circumventing the reason why you had been so inattentive, your friends spared no insult and pestered you to high hell. Your face had flushed, sure that Rhysand could pick up on your nervousness. Instead, there were no teasing comments; he only returned to his meal.

Now before his room, you took a steadying breath and lightly knocked, in the unlikely event he had fallen asleep. At his faint call you entered, softly shutting the door behind you. The room was aptly decorated for a High Lord. Rich jewel tones complimented Night Court black in various opulent fabrics. Pointedly ignoring the massive bed, you took in the polished mahogany furniture, surely crafted by a masterful hand. From the intricately designed rugs, to the velvet cushions, and the elaborate drapery; it was all magnificent. However, it all paled in comparison to the male inhabiting the room.

Rhys was lounging on a plush divan, drink and papers in hand, looking fresh from the finest of paintings. The loose shirt from earlier was gone, baring his muscled chest. Your eyes tracked along the elegant dark swirls that decorated his tan skin. A pair of black sleep pants adorned his lower body, looking dangerously low on his waist. As you gently padded over, you tried not to focus on the light smattering of dark hair leading below the band. He glanced up at you, violet eyes sparkling like the stars visible through the windows beyond him.

His eyes slowly roved over your figure, noting your bare legs; how you clutched your cream robe, book in hand, a delicate lacy strap peeking out. He took a restrained sip of his amber drink. You settled on a comfortable settee across from him, the book already splayed across your lap.

“Good evening, darling. Care for a drink?” He waved his glass lightly, the ice clinking softly.

You chuckled, shaking your head, “I’m alright, thank you. Is it not a little late to indulge?”

He inspected his drink as if he might find the solution to all his problems within the crystal glass, “I find it soothes the nerves.”

You cocked an eyebrow, “Are you nervous?”

Rhys lifted the drink to his mouth, only to gaze at you over the rim with heavy-lidded eyes, “With you? Always, darling. I mean—you simply strike such an imposing figure.”

You dramatically placed the back of your hand to your head, draping yourself over the settee with all the theatrics you could muster, “Oh, how I plague man with my beauty!”

A deep and joyous laugh broke the silence of the night. You glanced over at Rhysand in slight surprise to see his head thrown back, a hand to his chest. Your heart warmed at the clear mirth on his face. This was the Rhysand you had missed. You soon joined him, your laugh bubbling up with the vigour of a freshly opened champagne bottle.

Gradually, you both settled into silence, and with a wink from Rhys, you both returned to your previous occupations. The cool breeze from the open window carried with it Rhysand’s citrus and sea smell, the faint note of jasmine like a goodnight’s kiss. You basked in the peaceful mood, snuggling closer to the settee with your book. You couldn’t help but look up at Rhys every few pages, taking in his striking profile as the ambient lighting cast shadows across his elegant features. Eventually, you noticed his eyelids beginning to droop and knew he was only stalling the inevitable.

You yawned loudly, covering your mouth for effect, “I think it’s time we retire for the night.”

He smiled, gently placing his empty glass and papers aside, “I agree, darling. Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”

Rhysand stood and stretched his arms over his head, and you quickly made your way over to his bed, refusing to stare any longer at his chest than necessary. You shed your robe and tossed it over a nearby chair while you both silently readied yourselves for bed. No longer was the silence comforting—instead, your heart threatened to burst from your chest.

You didn't realize how stiff you were until Rhys settled under the covers beside you, the shroud of night concealing your reddened cheeks. You remained rigid, arms at your side like a soldier at attention.

It’s only me, darling. The smooth voice slipped through the cracks of your mind. Rhysand’s low timber reminded you to take a deep breath—you turned towards him and lightly reached your hand out in the space between your pillows. Even in the stygian dark, his eyes shone brighter than ever. That midnight gaze fixed on your open palm. Slowly, he crept his large hand up and brought it to yours, strong fingers caressing your palm. You held your breath as he steadily entwined his fingers with yours, hand sliding across your own. You squeezed lightly in assurance, your eyes falling shut.

Before the throes of sleep could claim you, a gentle caress to your conscience pulled you back.

Can I hold you?

The whispered request was nearly lost in the haze between waking and dreams, but you would always come back for that voice. Beyond words, you pushed your consent to Rhysand’s mind.

Strong arms gently slid around you, pulling your back to a hard chest. Your synced breathing within that warm embrace finally lulled you to a peaceful sleep.

♡𝌀𝌀𝌀♥𝌀𝌀𝌀♡

Light filtering through the window assaults your eyes, bringing with it the realities of the morning. You stretch like a cat in the sun, silken sheets sliding across your bare legs. You hadn’t slept like that in years, Cauldron, centuries even. The sweet haze lingering from your sleep washed away once you noticed the empty—albeit still warm—bedside. You quickly sat up only to be interrupted by Rhysand waltzing in through the doors, breakfast in hand.

“Good morning, darling. I hope you’re hungry—I’m loving the bedhead by the way.” He swooped over to the bed, deftly handling the large tray in hand as he settled back beside you. You swiftly patted your hair down, “Yes, good morning Rhysand.”

Your dry tone didn’t damper Rhys’s wide smirk one bit. He was glowing this morning with an air of contentment; the full night's sleep had done him well.

He gestured to the amalgamation of various foods before you, “I wasn’t sure what you would be craving, so I grabbed a little bit of everything.” The delicious smell wafted before you, your stomach grumbling without consent.

“If this is how I’m treated, I don’t think I’ll ever leave.” You popped a berry into your mouth, relishing its succulent flavour.

“Consider it a thank you,” You paused, buttered toast halfway to your mouth, at Rhysand’s words, “For giving me, perhaps, the best sleep I have had in my five centuries.”

The earnest look in his eyes prompted you to butter your toast more vigorously, hoping he would miss the rosy flush seeping across your features.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve never slept better either,” You smiled gently, hoping to not sound too heartfelt in your admission, “And there is no reason to thank me, Rhys. You know I’d do anything for you.”

You held your breath at the candid confession, praying he did not understand the real meaning behind your words.

Instead, his chest swelled with emotion. He brought his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a swift kiss to your hair.

“All the more reason for me to thank you, darling.”

♡𝌀𝌀𝌀♥𝌀𝌀𝌀♡

The next few weeks continued much like that night; you would both lounge around in the evening and then retire to bed. Only, your inclination towards one another had become irresistible. The moment you got beneath the covers, you found yourself instinctually reaching for Rhysand’s embrace. Often, he held you close, your head poised at his soft neck. Occasionally, on the more difficult nights, you would swaddle Rhys tightly to your chest, caressing his hair as he was lulled to sleep by your steady heartbeat.

However much you enjoyed your time in bed with Rhysand, you couldn’t deny the increasing difficulty with which to hide your escalating feelings. What were once mere fleeting glances, were now lingering stares; no dark circles were to be found on his handsome face, his beaming grin a drug that would surely consume you. Rather than have the moments together soothe your ache like a balm, you only craved his attention more so.

As you both fell into your usual routine for the night and settled under the covers, you finally ripped the bandage from the festering wound.

“I think I may sleep in my bed beginning tomorrow night.”

Rhysand’s body froze beneath your touch, his arms still only half around you. Quickly, you continued, “Your nightmares seem to have passed—which I am eternally grateful for—therefore I don’t see any reason why I should continue to sleep here.” With you, the words didn’t need to be spoken; they loomed in the air around you.

A beat of silence passed before he spoke, “Why not?”

You gasped as he seized you closer to his chest. His breath was heaving while he squeezed you tighter in his arms. You quashed the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach, reluctant to hurt your feelings further.

You sighed, eyes closing, “Again, there is no reason–”

“I want you here. With me. That is the reason why you should stay.”

You audibly swallowed, taking his words with a grain of salt. Your voice took on a placating tone as you lightly placed your palms on his chest, “I understand that you’re worried about the nightmares–”

“Darling, you understand nothing,” You stared, dumbfounded at his earnest tone.

“The agony of lost sleep pales in comparison to the loss of your presence. There is nothing more that I desire than having you here next to me as I fall asleep and as I wake. Seeing your radiant face every morning—I feel like the luckiest male in the world. And I am greedy; for your touch, your time…” He shook his head, putting his forehead to yours, “I know I am asking much of you since—”

You surged forward and placed a passionate kiss on his lips. His lashes fluttered before he was pushing back with just as much fervour. You pressed your body tighter against his, feeling the contours of his body moulding perfectly to your own. You wanted him closer—had you been one body right now, it would not have been enough. He thought he was greedy? He had no concept of the depth of your selfish desires, only scraping the surface with this ardent kiss.

You pulled back, breathless and entirely at his mercy, “You could ask for all the stars in the night sky and I would scorch my hands to deliver them to you,” He brushed his nose against your own, your swollen lips lightly caressing, “There is no limit to what I can give you Rhysand, if only you’ll let me.”

His violet eyes shone with disbelieving wonder as if he was undeserving of your affections. Rhys kissed you gently; this kiss held a promise that the others lacked. It was a promise of love, of reverence, of total, utter devotion. Your heart soared in your chest and for once, you let it; a caged bird finally tasting freedom.

That same gentle presence filled your mind once again.

I would be honoured, darling.

The message was bundled in the gossamer enormity of his feelings for you. With your heart content, you whispered under the cover of silky night,

“The honour will always be mine.”

Final Notes: Anything for my bbg Rhys <3 (Can you tell I recently rewatched Pride and Prejudice for the millionth time?) Hope you all liked it!

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x you #rhys x you #rhysand/reader #rhys/reader #rhysand #rhys #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acomaf #acowar #acosf #cherhys

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piratefishmama · 5 months

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Fake it till you Make it | Part 20

So now, he was sat in a car, with a rich older man.

To some little queer boys, this would be a dream come true, especially since the older man wasn’t half bad in terms of looks, that all American square jaw, strong nose, the works. Plus… rich.

But this wasn’t a rich older man whisking him away, no, this was Steve Harrington’s regularly absent father taking him grocery shopping.

It’d been a wild day.

“So…” Eddie didn’t do well with silence. Silence never sat right with him. Had to fill it somehow, be it with silly noises, random singing, or conversation with any person in his vicinity. “They uhm, they do that often?”

“It’s a family thing, I think we’re all as bad as each other.” At least he was self-aware, the eldest Harrington still watching the road as they drove through the small town, he knew where he was going though, each turn done as if he’d driven the route enough to do it blindfolded. “Lynda’s a lawyer so, that should explain that” loved being right, it was her job to be right, even if she was actually wrong, she had to make out like she was right and she did it well. “I’m a middle child” explained both everything and nothing at all, “and Steven… I think he got a little bit of both of us. I’d have thought you’d be used to that though, since you’re dating him.”

“Ah-haha, I mean… don’t get me wrong, I’ve always known about Steve’s uhm… how to phrase this… mean girl streak?” John snorted a little laugh, emboldened, Eddie continued, “he’s like everyone’s disappointed mother, always with the little—” Eddie shifted in his seat, just about managing to put his hands on his hips and cock them weirdly in place “pose that he does when he’s oh so very disappointed in you. I used to thrive on it back in high school, whenever he’d catch Tommy H or the other basketball goons bullying the kids, he’d just stand there like he’d caught his kids with their hands in the cookie jar, an they’d actually just… cower, like he could actually do anything to them. It was the funniest shit I’d ever seen.”

It'd actually been quite the surprise when that’d happened the first time, it didn’t happen often, Steve had been a douchebag, not the ‘shove your head in a toilet’ kind of douchebag, or the ‘shove Gareth in a locker’ kind of douchebag.

No, he was the mega bitch douchebag who could flash a smile and drop every set of panties in his immediate vicinity, he was the douchebag who KNEW he could do that. Who carried himself high with the knowledge, lording it over everyone without… ever actually lording it, it was a presence kind of thing. An attitude.

And maybe, occasionally, he’d have been the douchebag who didn’t really see anyone unless he wanted to see them, didnt really pay any attention to those not on his radar, those not in his friend group, which led to many an accidental shoulder check, which had in turn led to Eddie’s own personal little vendetta because he’d lost one of his prized mini figs to the underside of the Hawkins High trophy case when Steve had walked by a little too close and shoved him just hard enough to send Eddie’s shit flying.

Had just kept walking as if he hadn’t even seen him. Asshole.

It was only when he’d first been seen hanging around Wheeler that his personality had shifted toward something reasonably human. Thanks Wheeler, the sacrifice of your time and patience hath created a god among men.

“So he was never… bad then?”

“Nah” no sense bad mouthing the boyfriend, that wouldn’t get him anywhere. “Real Prince Charming in a perfectly pressed polo shirt. He’s amazing, sir… you have nothing to worry about with Steve, he’s… one in a million.” Now anyway.

“Good. Good.” And then he fell silent, the quiet stretch lasting nearly five minutes with only the faint music playing on low volume from the radio to fill that silence, until the eldest Harrington pulled the car into a quiet carpark, and parked. “Here we are!” Oh thank Christ.

“We can't keep doing this.” Steve was the first one to speak up during their mutual living room silent treatment, finally looking at this mother after nearly an hour of watching a gentle snowfall that’d started outside. He hoped it wouldn't get heavier before Eddie got back.

“I have no idea what you—”

“Mom.” Steve cut her off, his eyes sharp and tone firm. “We can’t keep doing this. This bickering, this who’s right who’s wrong shit, we’ve gotta stop, at least here.” If not for their own sanity, but for the image he was giving Eddie of his family life.

Of what he might possibly maybe be getting himself into if Steve could actually swing a real relationship by the end of the week. The chances of him saying yes were already pretty farfetched, but if Steve’s parents were their worst selves…

Why would Eddie want to subject himself to that long term?

She paused, expression unreadable, something she’d mastered years ago for the court room, then she sighed. “I know, Steven.” She sighed heavily “Sometimes I forget that you’re a grown up now, that you can argue right back and actually stand your ground.” It only felt like yesterday when he was tugging uncomfortably at the little bowtie they used to make him wear for special occasions, all dressed up looking up at them with those big hazel eyes of his. His childhood only felt like yesterday. “I miss when you were cute and just did as you were told” she sniffled. Back when his parents had been there regularly before their duties had pulled them away. Before distance had strained them and they missed everything. Steve rolled his eyes but said nothing as his mother continued “Anyway, i agree. I think I’d prefer it if Eddie didn’t go away from this trip thinking John to be the most mature of us.”

“God, could you imagine?” Steve shook his head to free himself of the truly harrowing thought, allowing the subject to change. “I really like him, Mom... I didn’t expect to at first, not enough to want something long term with him anyway...” He’d thought it’d be easy to just pretend with him at first, but Eddie just had this... thing about him, Steve didn’t really know how to explain it, he just felt like home. Maybe it should have been alarming as to how fast that’d happened but... Steve had always rushed into things, funnily enough he didn’t think Eddie minded. “So I’d really like it if he liked all of us by the end of this, an if he only likes Dad cause of our bullshit, I think I might just disown the both of you.” The last part said in jest but... god he’d never let it go.

He’d lockjaw it until the end of time, would take it out on special occasions and shake it in their faces like look what you did. Look at what you cost me.

“Honestly, sweetheart I think I’d disown myself.” Lynda laughed, the air finally lightening up a little between them. “Here, how about we go see if the maintenance men pilfered the wine cellar? I’m positive Mags was hiding a damn good red down there among the cabernet that I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t want to go to waste...”

“Well... we probably should check it... just in case, y’know? For security reasons.” Not that he actually doubted the integrity of the maintenance crew, they’d been employees for years, they’d known his grandparents, had worked for them in their later years when time had started to catch up to them, and a steady gig passing through generations wasn’t something to scoff at.

“Security, absolutely.” But then, the contents of the wine cellar alone was probably worth more than the actual house, so… better double check.

For security reasons.

Part 22

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #Just what are Eddie and John going to come home to i wonder lmao

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heavenlyraindrops · 2 months

Text

Change With the Seasons| Stardew Valley| Sebastian x Reader

♡♡♡♡♡♡ Chapter One: Moving In

♡♡♡♡♡♡

A/N: This is just gonna be a cute romance between Seb and the Farmer, aka Reader. If It’s also available on AO3 and Quotev. I’d visit the masterlist if I were you, since it contains trigger warnings + the story blurb (summary/ synopsis)

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Chapter Summary: After moving in and getting accustomed to life at the farm, you happen to meet a certain someone on a rainy day by the docks.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

The wind whistled through the trees, snaking its way through your hair and causing the leaves to skitter. Immediately the breeze died down as soon as it picked up.

You had just finished speaking to Major Lewis. Robin, the carpenter, however, had decided to stick around for some more conversation, an idea you weren’t completely against yet weren’t completely welcoming towards either.

“You should definitely get to meeting all the townsfolk,” Robin said, eyes surveying the wooded, overgrown land. They flicked back to yours, and she smiled. “It’s not everyday we get a new person here in Pelican Town. So they’re all very eager to meet you.”

You smiled and nodded, as she continued:

“And you should meet my kids too. They live with me in the Mountains, oh, the mountains…”

As Robin went off on a long rant on how wonderful and fresh the crisp air of the mountains were, you looked out at the farm stretched before you. It was covered in rocks, wood, overgrown grass and trees. You winced at the thought of having to clean it all up.

“Anyways, I won’t keep you any further!” Robin smiled, and left.

You proceeded to dump your luggage on the bed, which creaked under the weight, and rolled your sleeves up. The first thing on your list today, you decided, was to go into town and see how it was. You had, after all, dropped your safe, stable life in Zuzu for this.

The walk to the village wasn’t too long. You picked up a daffodil along the way, with no other reason than finding it pretty. Immediately you arrived at what seemed to be a clinic. You peered in, but it was closed. The building next to it had a large sign. Pierre’s General Store. A calendar nailed to the wall caught your attention- it was listing all the events and birthdays in town. A specific day seemed to jump out at you: Flower Dance.

You’d have to ask Mayor Lewis about that.

You put your hand on the door handle to Pierre’s store and pushed, but the doors refused to budge. It must have been locked, too. You checked your watch. It was only seven. That explained it.

You wandered down a little, taking in the buildings and houses. You squinted at a small figure in the distance, loitering near a couple of flowers. Seemingly very interesting in them.

As you moved closer, you realized that it was a little old woman, tending to the flowers. She smiled at you, and you smiled back. “You must be the new farmer. Welcome to the community, dear. I’m Evelyn. You can call me ‘Granny’ if you like.”

You flushed at her kindness. “Alright, Granny.”

She smiled and nodded, before heading inside a small blue house, claiming to go bake some cookies.

You exhaled slowly, staring at the flowers. The spring sun seemed to glow off of everything, yet the breeze was cool. You felt a faint smile growing on your face. You’d like it here, in Pelican Town. You knew it.

A week had passed. So had your doubts.

Everyone in the town had been kind to you so far- so far, being the keyword as you hadn’t met many people yet. You’d woken up that morning with rain lashing down, pattering on the roof, echoing through the small cottage. With watering your rather small number of crops being taken care of, you’d decided to devote the day to fishing at the docks, ever grateful for the rather flimsy bamboo rod Willy had gifted you.

The rain was pouring down harder than when you had left as you arrived at the docks. Your hair stuck to your forehead, slick with water, droplets of it rolling down your cheeks. You carefully picked your way across the docks, which had grown slippery. The sea was choppy, and occasionally hit against the supports of the docks but they were fortunately high enough from the water level. Yet still a few salty drops sprayed onto your face now and then.

Being as drenched as you were all ready, you just decided to sit down on the edge of the dock, before casting out your rod. You didn’t even notice the man already sitting next to you amidst the whirling wind and drops of rain and seawater. You shivered, cold, before glancing to the side and-

“Oh!” You jumped in surprised, almost toppling off the dock and into the angry sea. “H-hello.”

The man stared at you in silence, the black strands of hair obscuring his face, making it unable to be seen properly, before turning back to the sea. “Hey.”

You’d never felt awkward with the people in Pelican Town until now. You forced a nervous smile, tilting your head. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there. You don’t mind if I sit here, right?”

He dug his hands into the pockets of his black sweatshirt, the moody look on his face deepening. “Whatever,” he muttered, then said under his breath, “The ocean’s better enjoyed alone, though.”

Your own frown hardened into a scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean?” It hadn’t even been ten seconds since you’d met this guy and you were already starting to feel a growing dislike for him.

“Nothing,” he said. You noticed the eyeliner around his eyes getting slightly messed up from the rain, and stared hard back out at sea. So much for everyone in the twon being nice. You must have jinxed it, or something.

“What’s your name, anyways?” You asked, taking another stab at being friendly.

“Sebastian,” came the blunt reply.

You stared at him again, for a moment. He caught you staring, and raised an eyebrow, an action which for some reason made your heart pound. “What?”

“Nothing.” You turned your attention back to the fishing rod. The weather was becoming harsher now, your clothes completely drenched through with droplets rolling down your face and arms. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed, making you jump and let out a small noise. Sebastian smirked and you glared at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, clearly mocking you in such a subtle way you wouldn’t expect. You scowled, feeling something tug at the rod. It was a soggy newspaper. Feeling your face burn with embarrassment, you picked it up and scrunched it up in your hand before getting up and stomping down the dock, back towards your farm.

“Nothing,” You muttered, mockingly. That day, you decided.

You do not like Sebastian.

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heyidkyay · 1 month

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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Nineteen

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: AH this newest update has been so fun and emotional to write I'm ngl, but I'm so excited to post it!! Thanks to @procrastinatinglikeapro for proof reading it and for being so lovely with all her ideas! Please read the warninggggs, I hope everyone enjoys it, it’s a long one 🩶

Warnings: smut, feelings over scars, talks of death/selfharm in the sense of not taking care of yourself (past tense), mention of drug use

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

There were much worse ways to wake up than to a head of messy curls between your legs.

I’d been dreaming about something, I knew that much. Though the thought of it was now hazy as I inhaled deeply and shifted against bedsheets, hand reaching out to feel for the body that had fallen asleep beside me. Only it wasn’t there.

My brow pinched itself into a small frown, confused, and I blinked blearily into the dim light of my bedroom. A faint chuckle echoed and I wrinkled my nose at it, tilting my head downwards to peer towards the end of the bed.

The duvet had been shoved away, pooling around my lower legs and over the grinning idiot settled between them. He pressed a soft kiss to my inner thigh, hands gripping my hips with a certain tenderness I wasn’t all that familiar with.

Instinctively my fingers moved to work their way into his hair, taking root there and tucking a helpless strand up out of his face. “What you doin’?”

My sleep-filled question was only met with another chuckle, then two more gentle kisses. My hips lifted a fraction as my feet planted themselves more evenly on either side of him.

“Matty.” I breathed out airily, wanting a reply, trying my best to remove the remains of sleep which continued to cling to my mind.

“Keep talking.” Matty finally spoke after what felt like an eternity, his breath tickled the skin of my thighs and I fought to withhold a shudder. “You sound so pretty.”

Stupidly, I smiled, blinking down at him slowly and enjoying the feel of him; the pressure of his arms as they rested over the tops of my legs, crowding the outer muscle, and the how his nose nudged the curve of my thigh, sending a wave of goosebumps over the exposed flesh. “Should I always expect to be woken up this way?”

He nipped me then and I inhaled sharply at the abruptness of it, hands strengthening their hold in his hair. “Would you like that?”

I felt my eyes slip close, letting the rasp of his voice trail up the length of my torso and light a fire somewhere deep in my gut. I hummed in reply, a thumb brushing over his temple when he began to plant kisses up my right leg, getting sloppier and sloppier with each press of his mouth.

“Answer me.”

“Yes.” I breathed back to him, spreading my legs even further apart to give him room and shuffling ever so slightly down the bed. “Yeah, I would.”

I felt more than heard his next chuckle.

My chest tightened, shoulder blades pressing deeper into the mattress.

“Matty.” I nearly whined, fingers tightening once more.

He retreated completely then, and I wished I hadn’t even spoken when he asked, “What’s wrong?” with a barely there snicker.

I didn’t pout but it was a near thing, and he must’ve known it too if the smirk he wore gave any implication. “Don’t be a dick, please.”

My hands shifted slightly as he crawled his way back up the bed, bracketing my head between his forearms so that he could lean in for a proper kiss, delving into my mouth without much care for morning breath or the fact that I must have looked a state.

I grabbed aimlessly at the back of his neck, pressing up into him whilst simultaneously attempting to pull him even closer. I could feel the way he’d angled his knee on one side of my waist to hold himself up and the press of his fingers as they curled their way into my hair.

Dragging my hands down and across his front, I explored the expanse of his torso, pleased to find that he had already rid himself of the tee he’d gone to sleep in. My thumb brushed over the jut of his hip, tracing the skin I knew was the home to his ‘we are kings' tattoo. I found myself wanting, desperate to explore every part of him.

He broke away to stare down at me.

“God, you don’t-” Matty shook his head and delved back in for another kiss, “Don’t even know,” then another, “What you fucking do to me.” He punctuated those last few words with a succession of quick pecks and when he leant back in to steal another I captured his bottom lip between my teeth, before slowly I let him go.

“Show me then.” I demanded, enjoying having the feel of this man’s full focus on me.

Matty wasted no time and hastily moved his hand downwards to pull at the hem of my top. I lifted myself up slightly from the mattress to help and released a stuttered sigh when he began to work his way down the length of my torso, littering my collar with wet kisses, nipping here and there but never for long.

I didn’t think much about my scars in that moment, hands finding purchase amongst his hair and neck once more, before I felt his lips skim across the length of a larger one that jumped over my right shoulder. My breath stuttered at the feeling and my hold fell slack at the sudden reality that hit me.

Matty paused, obviously having sensed my harsh change, and raised his head up towards me slowly, like a person would when they didn’t want to spook a wild horse. He waited, probably trying to decipher the expression I wore.

But my mind had ultimately stopped.

“Squeaks. You good?”

My eyes snapped up to meet his own, then wandered over the expanse of his face. I saw a plethora of emotions there but none were of pity or disgust, and I found myself swallowing at the realisation.

It wasn’t that I’d never shown my scars to anybody before, or purposely gone out of my way to keep them hidden during intimate moments like this- well, at least I hadn’t for a long time now. But before, I’d typically had time to wrap my head around it first, come to terms with the fact that I’d be bearing them to somebody else, or at the very least get to mention it to the other person beforehand.

This, this wasn’t that. And this was Matty. Matty, who’d probably had countless models in his bed. Matty, a man who was both lusted after and fought over. Matty, who was currently looking down at me with eyes so kind and soft and patient.

I let go of a shaky breath.

“I’m good.” I finally told him, thankful for the way my voice didn’t waver when I said it.

He smiled down at me, a mischievous thing that eased my lingering doubts and settled my mind, before he was disappearing again. Nose brushing along the bone of my collar and over the milky white scars that littered it, sucking hard and fast at the skin just below my ear and then again at the shell of my shoulder.

I arched up into him, chest rising and falling the lower he got, leaving his mark alongside the rest of them. Only, I found myself wishing his were the ones that always remained.

He looked up at me once he reached the hem of my sleep shorts, an older pair I favoured, striped cotton and rimmed with a narrow strip of lace. I nodded, already knowing what his silent ask would be, and raised my hips up to allow him to drag the material down the length of my legs.

Matty paused once more after he’d discarded them, tossing them somewhere to the edge of the room. I heard them land with a dull thud I didn’t see, too busy watching him watch me.

–

She was gorgeous.

Had he told her that?

Had he said it enough?

He’d say it again now but his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth and he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away from her long enough to get his mind to work properly again. Her name on a constant loop in his head.

“Fuck.” He heard himself mutter, hands already reaching out to touch, trailing up the length of her leg, up up up, until they danced between the crease of her thigh.

Unable to help himself he delved downwards to press another hot open-mouthed kiss to the sweet skin there, smiling at the catch he heard in her breath. “So pretty for me.”

Those hands of hers returned to his hair and he couldn’t fault her for it, she’d seemed like the type to want for something to hold.

“Matty.” She dragged out and God, did he want to record that sound solely for the purpose of listening to it over and over again whenever he was missing her and had his hand wrapped around himself.

It seemed that someone must’ve been listening to his inner workings of his mind because again she said it not a second later, the same pitch, same breathy exhale. Matty’s dick twitched and he suddenly felt rather restricted in his boxers, but he didn’t dare pull away, too content to just lie there between her thighs.

His kisses grew closer and closer, until she was writhing beneath his mouth, fingers clinging tightly onto his curls. She whimpered and he groaned at the very sound, she seemed to like that though, forcing his face further into her folds.

Any other time he might have laughed at her sudden boldness, but he was a little preoccupied. The taste of her seemed to explode on his tongue, rich and heady, and he reached up, hands gripping at her hips to pull her more forcefully against his mouth. Four long licks and she outright moaned, loud and free, uncaring in truth, and it only spurred Matty on.

Quite suddenly he wanted to devour her whole, to keep the taste of her on his tongue always. And so he began to trace his name on her clit. His own selfish need to put his brand on her somehow, his claim. She bucked up against his chin, and he forced her back down. Groaning as his fingers trailed up to join his mouth.

“Oh, God, oh shit.” He heard her mutter when his tongue delved deeper, her hands twisting in his hair, holding him against her as she chanted.

She came not long after and Matty continued to lick languidly whilst she shuddered beneath him, drawing harsh and laboured breaths into hollow lungs. He withdrew slightly to look up at her when her hands fell slack in his hair and ran his tongue along the length of his own lip, lapping up what was there. She made quite the picture. Laid out before him, cheeks flushed, her chest rising and falling with each new breath she struggled to draw in.

Selfishly he gave one final brush of his thumb over the expanse of her overwhelmed nerves, before forcing himself up onto his knees.

His chin was quite noticeably wet with the evidence of her pleasure and his tongue ached like fuck all else, but he felt as though he’d gone and started his day the best way he possibly could.

So with that thought and a satisfied grin, Matty leaned over the edge of the bed to make a grab for the t-shirt he’d thrown there earlier and wiped his face with it, pressing the heel of his hand into his softening cock when he rose.

He felt like a kid, having jizzed in his pants, but he’d gotten off on that almost as much as she had. And although he’d definitely have to shower sooner rather than later, and would surely have to go commando once he was clean, Matty couldn’t find it in him to regret the way it had gone down.

Fuck, she was maddening. Those sounds she’d made, how responsive she’d been. He only wished that he could scar the experience into his memory.

Tossing the shirt back to the floor, Matty crawled his way up the bed one more, throwing himself onto the chilled sheets beside her, admiring the way her chest continued to move with each deep inhale. His eyes latched onto everything she had to offer him, but mainly the scars she’d been so guarded about before.

They weren’t as bad as she’d made them out to be. Though he was only drawing that conclusion from the small and quick quips she’d made about them since knowing her, and even those had been rare and few.

He rather enjoyed the sight of them, weren’t all that different to the look of a tattoo in truth, though he’d never admit to that out loud- he wasn’t that much of a twat, nor insensitive. But still, he found himself wanting to reach out and trail over every jagged point and rounded curve of them. They were a part of her and he found them as equally beautiful as he did those soulful eyes of hers.

His index was grazing a faded pink line before he could think better of it. It rested just below the curve of her breast and looked to have been deep once upon a time, not as deep as a few of the others she bared but far enough for the skin to have raised itself in the shape of a small bump when it had scarred over.

She didn’t stop his wandering hand. He noticed that after a few minutes had passed between them and the rise of her chest had evened out.

His eyes swept up her side to find her staring carefully back at him, he smiled and watched as she slowly copied the motion. Then witnessed the way her eyes darted downwards, shit. Matty almost went to cover up the wet patch that had seeped into his boxers with his hand but knew that there wasn’t much point. She’d seen it now.

She wore an expression full of surprise when he looked back up at her again, as well as the beginnings of a smirk too. “Was gonna offer, but…”

Matty rolled his eyes and shoved her teasing smile away from him, she laughed giddily into her pillow.

“Yeah, laugh it up,” He retorted, and sprawled out further on the mattress, tilting his head back far enough to stretch as his eyes fell closed, “But you weren’t the one listening to you moan, babe. Fuck, it was-” He just ended up shaking his head, unable to compare the sound of her to anything right off the top of his head.

She buried her responding groan into the pillow and Matty tutted, grinning lazily up at the ceiling before he rolled on over to look at her.

“Nah, you’re doing it all wrong. It was more like-” And his mimicking whimpers were quickly cut short by the press of her hand against his mouth. Matty widened his eyes in exaggeration over the top of her thumb and mumbled something into her palm.

“Shut up.” Was all that she said to him before she was pulling away again.

Matty rolled his eyes once more. “Rude.” He huffed, forcing his weight onto the bend of his elbow so that he could properly look down at her, “You know, a thanks wouldn’t go amiss.”

She swatted him for that one before dissolving into a fit of giggles, tugging him in by the scruff of his neck to kiss him again. He wondered briefly if she could taste herself on his tongue and the thought forced a grunt to wind its way up out of his throat.

She pulled back at that, but gave him one last peck before the pair of them then settled on their sides to share a pillow.

Her thumb reached out to brush the edge of his mouth once they’d eased into a peaceful quiet. Matty kissed it, content to just lie there with her for as long as she’d let him.

A car rumbled outside her bedroom window not long later and then it was her whisper that broke the calm. “What time is it?”

Matty wasn’t even sure. Just that the sun had been creeping its way slowly up into the sky when he’d first woken. He rolled over awkwardly to make a grab for the phone he’d left to charge on the side earlier, “Almost eight.” He told her.

Squeaks blinked in surprise, eyebrows rising, “Teds should be up by now.”

Matty shrugged and pulled her close again, draping an arm over her waist and pressing his lips to the crown of her head. “Had a long day yesterday, can’t blame the kid for having a lie in.”

She snorted, “You’re the one who kept him up late.”

“He was learning!” Matty immediately defended, though he was grinning too. “And besides, I didn’t hear you complaining.”

He felt her shake her head beneath his chin, and could even picture the way she was most definitely rolling her eyes at him. “You tend to get away with everything, don’t you?”

Smirking, Matty couldn’t deny that. “Just the little things.” Was all that he replied with and she laughed into the column of his throat.

“Hm, don’t get used to it with me.” She hummed and he hoped that she was smiling still. “I won’t make things easy for you, let that be known.”

“Oh don’t I know it.” Matty teased, enjoying the way she’d wrapped her legs around his own, “Jaw fucking aches with how hard you made me work for it.”

She gasped and he barked out a loud laugh when she pinched his side, “Prick.”

Matty merely hummed, breathing in the scent of her and letting himself get swept up in the easy reality of it all.

But then, “WAKE!”

They both seemed to freeze at the sudden interruption and Mouse was quick to pull away from out of his hold to make a grab for the tee he’d chucked onto the floor.

“Not that.”

She grimaced at the sight of it in her hand and then shot him a begrudging look before kicking it towards a basket full of washing, pulling a larger shirt from the dresser and throwing it on.

Matty laid there on the bed, entranced by the way it fell so effortlessly off of her shoulder, exposing the scars she had there but also the marks he’d given her too. He grinned lazily and she narrowed her eyes at him when she caught it.

“What you smiling about?”

Lifting his arms up to cushion the back of his head, Matty shrugged, “No reason, baby.”

Her squint deepened, not buying a word of it, but before she could question him again, the bedroom door shot open to reveal a pouty toddler standing in a pair of pj bottoms and his superman cape. Matty raised a questioning brow.

“Save any lives yet today, Teds?”

Still grumpy with sleep, Teddy stomped his way further into the room whilst rubbing at his eyes. Matty was amused by the sight, but also the kid’s hair, which looked just as wild and untamed as his typically did.

“No. Sleepin’.” The boy grumbled to him before he seemed to realise that it was Matty he’d been talking to and his face brightened into something a little more sweeter. “Matty.” He acknowledged with a silly smile, eyes still puffy and blinking back the drowsiness he’d been suffering from.

“Teddy.” Matty mimicked, sitting up on the bed to poke his tongue out at the boy, who merely giggled in reply. “What cartoon’s on today then, mate?”

Teddy paused and it was like a light had switched itself on inside his head because one second he was staring back at Matty and the next he was barrelling his way down the hallway towards the tele set.

“Don’t drop the remote again, Teds!” Squeaks called out just before her son could disappear around the corner, she shook her head after and then turned towards Matty, “Every time it’s him that drops it, and every time it’s me that has to spend a good half hour down on my knees searching for the batteries that fucking escape.”

Matty smiled at the thought of her on her knees, and she must’ve sensed it too because she lobbed a thick hoodie his way, as well as a pair of joggers that looked to be his. He frowned down at the items and wondered when he’d left them here.

“They’re from that night I spent at yours, when I thought we’d-” She coughed then, an excuse to not finish that sentence, but Matty already knew what she’d been on about. Mind flashing back to that night he’d practically confessed all to her, and the next morning when she’d woken up in his bed and had a full blown panic attack.

“Thanks.” He said, skipping over it all because it was in the past now and he didn’t want her stressing over shit they couldn’t well change, “Can I bum the first shower?”

She hummed, already moving around the room to tidy up a bit, “Yeah, I’ll get in after. Don’t wanna leave Teds on his own for too long.”

“I’ll be quick,” Matty assured her, already jumping up out of the bed to stumble his way on over to the door, “And don’t bother with breakfast, alright? I’ll make it.”

A look of surprise passed over her face at the offer but Matty didn’t comment on it, having learnt long ago that him doing the most mundane tasks for her only continued to shock her.

“Five minutes!” He called out over his shoulder before he shut the bathroom door behind him. He stepped into the shower with a smile on his face when he heard her shout back a teasing taunt about timing him.

He figured that he could grow used to mornings like these.

…

It wasn’t long later when Matty shuffled his way out of the bathroom and further into the flat, ruffling his hair dry with a towel after having pulled on the clothes Mouse had thrown at him.

Having started down the hallway, he could hear the noise of the tele playing another episode of that show Teddy favoured and the kid’s faint chuckles whenever the characters said something mildly funny. He entered the front room to find the tyke settled on the floor before it, swaddled in a couple of blankets and still half dressed.

“Comfy, little man?” Matty questioned him with a smile, draping the towel he’d used over his shoulders when he’d come to pause by him.

Teddy peered up at him with an almost adoring expression, something Matty was still struggling to get used to. Because see it was one thing to have fans crying out to make a grab for his hand on stage, or asking for a photo in the street, he could deal with all that, had gotten used to it in fact, but this was something else. This was a tiny little bean of a person, so full of innocence and purity, looking up at him as though he was something to be admired, something special.

“Bluey ‘tending to be a bat, Matty.” Teddy grinned, pointing up at the screen towards where it looked like a cartoon dog was hanging out of a tree, “Up down.”

Matty tilted his head at the picture and snorted, before he crouched down to run a hand through the kid’s unruly hair. “Upside down, hey?” He corrected with a smile, “Looks fun.”

Teddy nodded, eyes now trained back on the tv screen. “Wanna be bat.” He mumbled, unconsciously leaning further into Matty’s hand.

Matty chuckled to himself before he was hit with a thought, “Wanna be a bat, do you?” He smirked, hand already moving to wrap itself around Teddy’s tummy, “Alright then, Superman, get ready!”

With a squeal from Teddy, Matty swiftly jumped up and flipped the kid up into his arms, letting him dangle upside down. “Matty!”

Grinning, Matty jostled him about a bit, enough so that Teddy’s giggles started to echo around the room. “Yeah, Teddy?” He answered the boy, peering down at him from over the tops of his feet, “Did you want something?”

Teddy laughed again, harder, and then shook his head, positively delighted by the whole charade. “Down, Matty!”

“Down? What do you mean down? You said you wanted to be a bat!” Matty’s feigning of being completely unaware only made Teddy laugh louder.

“Down, Matty!” Teddy managed to giggle out again, wriggling in his hold now, enough so that Matty reckoned he ought to.

“Alright, alright.” He chuckled and pulled the little monster back up into his arms, sitting him the right way up, “Good?”

Teddy’s hair was a frizzy mess and his cheeks were all flushed, but he looked giddy with joy, grinning almost madly at Matty to the point where the corners of his mouth almost succeeded in their attempt at reaching his eyes.

“Good! ‘gain!”

Matty snorted, but dropped the kid back down again. This little passtime of theirs seemed to go on for a while before Mouse wandered out to see what all the fuss was about.

Both Matty and Teddy appeared to freeze upon noticing her standing in the doorway, a single brow quirked. “What’s going on in here then?” She laughed and Matty noticed the way her eyes darted between the two of them, “Hm?”

“Bats, mama!”

Her bewildered gaze wandered to Matty after hearing Teddy’s reply and so Matty pulled the kid up into his arms again so that he could settle him back on his mound of blankets.

Matty jerked his chin towards the tele, “Blame the dog.”

Squeaks merely rolled her eyes, albeit fondly, before her attention was redirected towards the phone she held. Matty noted her slight frown.

“What’s up?” He asked her quietly once Teddy had grown enraptured by the kids show again.

She sighed softly to herself but looked up at him as she did, pursuing her lips before she answered, “Just this work thing. Adi messaged me.”

Matty hummed and started to trail his way into the kitchen, recalling his earlier promise of breakfast. He could manage breakfast. “Right, anything bad?”

Squeaks shook her head, having followed, but was already staring back down at her phone again. “Apparently we somehow managed to score an hour with this one guest. Fucking notoriously hard to pin down and rarely ever available to work without it being in a moments notice, but their PR team just emailed us with an offer.”

Matty knew shit about the inner workings of a radio show, only that a guest like that could probably work wonders and bring in a whole new audience for them. “And this is a bad thing?”

She threw her head back and groaned unhappily, “Yes! It’s a bad thing, Matty! Because the only moments notice they’ve given us is a fucking hour! Apparently they’re only in London for the afternoon.”

Oh.

Things seemed to click for him then, “So you’ve got to get ready and be down at the studio as soon as?”

Another sigh and she nodded, Matty watched on as she dragged a tired hand across her face, “Or at least I would be if I had someone to watch Teddy. But Finn is on a flight back home, mum is too far away, and I can’t just turn up with Teddy to something like this- I’ll have to cancel.” And with that tangent she’s already skimming her thumbs across the screen of her phone.

Matty chewed on the inside of his lip, weighing out the pro’s and con’s, and what her reaction might just be to what he wanted to say, but then he thought fuck it. “I mean, I could watch him.”

Mouse’s head snapped up at that and Matty tried not to think too much about the weight of her gaze. “What?”

He shrugged, moving away from the counter to pick up a pan, “I could watch him, if you want.” He repeated, pausing to look her in the eye.

Look, he wasn’t stupid, he knew this was a fucking big deal. Yeah, sure, he’d spent a lot of time with Teddy, but never the two of them alone. Him offering, was his way of helping her out, yes- but also? It was her entrusting her son to him. And that in itself was a big BIG fucking ask. “I’ve only got studio time today and that’s later, but if your thing goes on long enough then I’ll be alright to cancel.”

She was watching him like a hawk now, expression half bewildered- like she’d not even thought of this scenario playing out- and half apprehensive. He supposed he could understand.

“Really?” She asked him and Matty noted how surprised her voice sounded, almost as though she couldn’t believe he’d offered. But he didn’t want to linger too much on that, he knew he had fucked up in the past and heard that same tone time and time before, but never with her.

Matty dipped his chin in silent acknowledgment, “Yeah, you’ll probably only be gone a couple hours, right?”

“Right.”

He swallowed, picking up the carton of eggs she kept in the cupboard and moving shit about to make it seem as though he wasn’t stressing about it either. “And me and Teds would just be here, I’ll make him food while you go get dressed, then maybe we’ll take a walk down to the park or the shops. Be back before you are,” He shrugged again, licking at his bottom lip before he continued on in his ramble, “Could even order a takeaway when you get in- A chinese or an indian, or something.”

When he chanced a glance back up, Matty found Mouse staring at him, her phone still clutched in the palm of her hand. He almost thought then that she’d turn him down, wave the offer off and cancel on the show’s guest, claiming it was too soon, that she was grateful but couldn’t make that jump just yet.

But then, “A takeaway sounds good.”

Matty startled and the spoon he’d been holding slipped out of his hand as he turned to better face her. “Yeah?” He asked, but they both knew this wasn’t about a takeaway.

He saw her throat bob around a swallow, before she took a breath and gave him a slow smile, “Yeah.” She answered softly, and Matty fucking beamed.

“Yeah?” He said again, eyebrows climbing up his forehead as he stepped his way on over the tiles to wrap his hands around her waist.

She laughed at the face he made, but he was excited. Could practically feel his heart hammering away in his chest. “Yeah, Matty.” Mouse murmured into the space between them, smiling up at him now, “If you’re sure.”

Matty laughed too and squeezed her hips, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

And as scary as it all seemed, he found that he was.

“I’m sure.”

–

Saying you could watch a kid, and then actually watching a kid, were two very different things as Matty quickly found out.

Teddy was rambunctious most of the time his mum was around, but once she’d given him a kiss, said her goodbyes and headed out the door, all that increased by tenfold.

“Teds, mate. Look, I love the cape, I do. But if you wanna go out you’re gonna have to put on a shirt.”

He was met with a stoney face and an evidently displeased pout. And that would’ve been fucking hilarious in itself, especially with the way the kid now had his arms crossed over his chest and chocolate from an earlier biscuit smeared across his chin, but that was only if Matty wasn’t the one standing on the other end of it.

“Please?”

See he wasn’t prone to begging for much of anything in life, he just wasn’t built that way, rebel and all that shite. But for Teddy? Matty reckoned he’d do an awful lot.

He crouched down to level the kid with his best melting look, one which had once gotten him through tsa with a couple ounces of coke in his back pocket, and simply prayed for the best.

At last, Teddy seemed to crumble! Or at least, almost. Because Matty did eventually manage to wrangle him into a decent outfit- only, the cape stayed.

Matty found that he could breathe a little easier once they’d made it out the front door, walking hand in hand with Teddy whilst the little monster splashed about in the slowly drying puddles yesterday’s rain had left.

He’d thrown on his beanie, the one both Mouse, and now Teddy too, seemed to poke fun at him for, as well as a thick scarf to keep the biting chill at bay and cover up some of his face.

“Where’re we headed then?” Matty voiced once they’d walked a few streets with Teddy pointing out all the birds that he could see. “Park, or the shops?”

“Lego!”

Matty peered down at Teddy’s big grin and pleading eyes, guessing that the lad was after one of the few toy shops in town. He could do that, he supposed, and smiled down at Teddy to tell him so.

They ended up stumbling across an Argos further up the main road, the windows lined with ads of all sorts but Teddy spotted one showcasing all their Lego. And so they wandered in, Matty trying to recall the last time he’d ever been in an Argos whilst Teddy scrolled through the selection on one of their many reserve machines.

“Do they have Lego for everything?” He found himself asking the kid, who was propped up on his hip to better view the screen. Because it seemed it; flowers, cars, fucking aeroplanes- they even had a red telephone box that Matty couldn’t imagine any kid choosing.

Teddy managed to spot a set made up of parts for a Passenger Train that cost almost an arm and a leg, but Matty added it to his basket all the same, as well as the Pac-Man mini arcade they sold, which had been staring at him the entire time.

What? It looked sick and he figured that he’d need something to do whilst Teddy messed about with his train.

So they paid and the bloke at the collection point seemed to sort of recognise Matty, going off of the faces he was making, but the guy only gave him a strained sort of smile and then a nod when he’d called out their number.

He and Teddy were slow to set off again, Matty trying to wrangle the boxes of Lego he was now carrying whilst also keeping hold of the kid in his care, questioning when the hell Lego sets had gotten so fucking big. Didn’t they all used to come in plastic boxes or some shit?

He managed it anyway and they wandered about window shopping before Teddy finally spotted an ice cream shop up ahead.

Matty was honest to God thankful for it, the bags were growing heavier as Teddy dragged him every which way and the chance to finally sit down gave him an opportunity to shoot off another text to Mouse. Although she hadn’t replied to his last, he knew that was mostly down to her being on air.

“Still can’t believe you got bubblegum.” Matty admonished once they’d sat down at a table, he wrinkled his nose at the blue monstrosity the kid seemed to be enjoying.

“I like it!” Teddy giggled in kind, even though he was eyeing up the scoop of cookie dough Matty had picked for himself.

With a humoured smile, Matty gestured for him to pass over his spoon, one of those tiny little plastic ones that came in an assortment of five colours. Teddy eyed him suspiciously but did hand it over, resting his chin on the tops of the forearms he had crossed over the table.

Matty handed it back after taking a large chunk out of his cup and got to watch the way Teddy’s face brightened at the taste. “Like it?” He asked after the boy had licked the spoon clean and then chuckled when he got a hasty nod in reply. “Guess we can share then.”

Teddy seemed to like the idea, even more so once he’d given Matty a spoonful of his own and watched the way his face had screwed up at the horrific flavour.

“Grim.” Matty said around a cough, wanting to rid himself of the taste.

“G’im.” Teddy butchered the mimic, which only made Matty choke on his cough before spluttering into laughter.

“Yeah, mate. Exactly.”

They spent the next half an hour there, Teddy talking to Matty about the train set he’d gotten and then about how he really wanted to drive one when he was older. Which led them to, “What you do, Matty?”

Matty slumped further into his seat at the question and smiled over at the boy, “I’m in a band.”

Adorably, Teddy’s face scrunched up into a confused sort of frown at that, though it was made even sweeter by the array of ice cream he had littering the outside of his gob.

With a faint chuckle, Matty pulled out his phone and went onto YouTube, clicking the first video that popped up after typing in their name. He slid it across the table for Teddy to look at and got to see the way the kid’s eyes widened when he spotted Matty come up on the screen.

Sure, his hair had been bleached to shit and he looked a hell of a lot younger, but it was still him. And Teds could see that.

“You.” Teddy breathed out, blinking down at the phone as TOOTIME started to play.

Matty snorted to himself and was merely thankful for the fact that the shop was loud enough to cover up the sound of his music playing. Because the last thing he wanted was to be spotted by a couple of fans asking for pictures when he was out and alone with Teddy.

“Singin’?”

Matty blinked at the question, having lost himself in his previous thought, but then nodded. “Yeah, and see all those other people?” He mentioned, gesturing to the girl who cropped up next, “They’re like miming, pretending to sing it.” He added after Teddy had given him a puzzled tilt of his head.

Teddy listened to the rest of the song play out after that, pointing to Matty everytime he was seen, as well as bouncing along. He made the decision to press play on the next music video before Matty could stop him, and he gasped when he recognised it.

Which cleared up that question on whether or not Mouse had actually been lying when she had claimed to like his music. He snorted at the thought.

Matty let Teddy listen to it, grinning at the way he sang along to the chorus of Girls.

By the time they managed to escape the shop, having finished their ice cream long before, Teds had gotten to play a majority of their songs and was humming something vaguely recognisable to himself whilst they walked up the highstreet back the way they’d come.

Looking back, Matty could see that he’d been distracted by it all. By the weight of the bags he carried and having to keep a constant hold of Teddy’s hand. Then by the way Teds was jumping along happily and singing up at Matty each chance he got. Too distracted that he didn’t seem to notice the oncomer until it was too late.

“Matty, mate!”

It was a reaction and a half the way his head shot up at the sound of a voice he hadn’t heard in years, not too far from snapping his neck clean off in fact.

His eyes darted to the man who had started to stumble his way over to them, the grin on his face clearly hit induced, before Matty’s gaze dropped down towards Teddy, who seemed to step back on instinct and crowd himself behind Matty’s legs.

“Been fucking too long, man! How you been!”

Matty tried not to wince at how brash the bloke was, as well as the way he got too close for comfort so that he could thump him heartily on the shoulder in greeting.

“Yeah, too long.” He muttered, keeping a strong hold on Teddy’s hand and fighting the urge to look down at him, not wanting to draw any real attention to the boy. “Look, mate, I’m a bit busy-” He said and tried to gesture the hand holding the Argos bags out to show exactly that, but his words were trampled all over.

“What the hell you doin’ in these ends then? Thought you were livin’ up on the Heath.”

Matty gritted his teeth. “Moved a bit ago, man.”

“Ah, no shit! Bet it’s as nice as the old place was though, remember the time I fucked that posh girl in your hot tub.”

For fucks sake.

“Look, man, I’ve really got to get going.” Matty attempted once more, and was already pivoting on his feet to try and get past the loudmouth twat. It had been too long since he’d last seen Ziggy and he’d have much preferred to have kept it that way.

“Nah, come on, let’s catch up! I know I skipped out Luke’s funeral and that, but the kid wouldn’t have wanted us lot there at his send off.” Ziggy chuckled, showcasing the chipped front tooth he was widely known for. “Got a couple e’s on me, but you can call up your guy, have a party, yeah?”

In his life, Matty had come close to dying a couple of times. He had fucking overdosed, choked on his own sick, threatened to top himself, and done some incredibly stupid shit that had almost lost him his head. But never had he ever felt a feeling like this. His guts wanted to upend themselves onto the very pavement he stood on, along with all the rest of the blood and the bones his poor excuse for a body was made up of.

“I’m clean.”

Ziggy laughed loudly at his croaked reply, drawing more attention to the three of them than he already had, and Matty didn’t know whether or not he’d crumble then and there, or if he’d just end up punching the fucker.

“Always been a funny kid, I told ‘em that!”

Matty steeled his jaw and forced down the lump of bile that wanted to escape. “I’m clean.” He repeated, stronger this time around, grinding down on his teeth so hard that it felt like they’d shatter in his mouth.

Ziggy stopped laughing then and kissed his teeth, “Another one down.” He shook his head, in actual disappointment, “And to think you were once sound. Just another one of them rich toffs, aintcha?” He scoffed and Matty had to bite his tongue. “Tryna act hard.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

Matty went to walk away then, shuffling Teddy along with him, who was very much clinging to the back of his jeans now. It was that motion which caught Ziggy’s attention.

“Oh shit! Matt, you’ve got a kid!” His loud and brazen cackle rattled through Matty and forced the rest of the goers littering the street to glance their way. “What, you knock up some bird, is that it? Bet she’s rinsin’ you out of all that money you made, ey rockstar?”

It was thoughtless but Matty went for him then, catching the prick by the edge of his cheap jacket and trying not to gag at the stench that fell off him. “You’ve no fucking clue, alright? So take your loud mouth and your fucking e’s, and do one.”

He gave Ziggy a hard shove, desperate to get him away, and then swallowed thickly at the realisation of what he’d just done. But still, Matty held himself strong, picking up the bag he hadn’t realised he’d dropped whilst keeping his eyes fixed on the man. He recaptured Teddy’s hand all too quickly and started to walk away.

In the time it must’ve taken him to do that though, Ziggy had righted himself and dropped the surprise. Matty heard him spit at their retreating backs, missing, but only just, and then he called out, “Yeah, walk on, Healy! But I know your type. You’ll come back, they always fucking do!”

The sound of his laughter echoed down the street and it followed Matty most of their way home.

His body shook with raw tension, jaw clenched so tightly shut that it hurt when he thought about it. But he couldn’t think about it, not then, not with what had just gone down. Not with what Teddy had- God, what Teddy had seen.

Mouse would skin him for this.

That thought alone broke something deep inside of him.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Matty?”

The world seemed to stop at the call of his name.

Matty loosened his tight hold on Teddy’s hand and inhaled before he turned to look at him.

“I’m sorry.” He heard himself say, wishing it had been more than just a cowardly fucking whisper. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Teddy only smiled up at him, it was careful and wary, but fuck it was genuine. And it made Matty want to cry all the same.

How. How had he fucked up this badly.

“It’s ‘kay, Matty.” Teddy tried to soothe him.

And at his words, Matty got down on his knees to run a hand through the boy's hair. “It’s not, and I’m sorry.”

Matty shook his head, hating himself more and more.

But he tried to smile. He had to, for Teddy.

“We ‘kay, Matty.” Teddy murmured, reaching up a hand to touch the bone of Matty’s cheek. Matty wondered how strong his resolve truly was when he just about managed to bite back the sob that threatened to choke him. “We ‘kay. Just a bad man.”

“A bad man.” Matty sniffed, pulling Teddy in close to press a chaste kiss to his forehead. “Yeah, mate. Just a bad man.”

“Can’t tell mama.”

Matty froze at that, his mouth ghosting over the boy’s temple.

Slowly, he pulled away, hand falling to the back of Teddy’s head, cradling it carefully. “It’s okay, Teds. Nothing will happen.”

But Teddy shook his head adamantly, “No, can’t tell! Mama worry.”

Oh.

Matty smiled, it was fucking sorrowful and full of self-pity, but he managed it for this sweet boy. “It’ll be okay, Teds. I swear.”

Though he wondered truly if it would.

“Can’t, Matty. Can’t!” Teddy looked like he was about to start sobbing then and there, his bottom lip wobbling whilst his eyes filled with tears, “Don’t tell!”

“But why, Teddy?”

It was all that Matty could think to ask, to say.

“No upset, for mama, for Matty.”

Christ, Matty had really fucked up this time.

“No tell.” Teddy repeated again, unaware of how his words made Matty’s heart break. “Matty. No tell.”

And then he was sobbing, aimlessly and hopelessly into Matty’s chest.

Matty held him near, rubbing a hand up and down the boy’s back whilst simultaneously wishing he could take everything back. That he could go back to this morning and never leave the flat. Never make that fucking offer.

He just wasn’t cut out for this.

He wasn’t-

Teddy’s fingers clung to the hoodie he wore with a strength that scared Matty a little, chest heaving with his quiet cries. “Okay, Teddy.” Matty murmured brokenly, trying to lull his crying with a soft and stuttered hush, “It’s okay, Teddy. I won’t tell. It’s okay.”

107 notes · View notes

impala-dreamer · 1 month

Text

Who We're Pretending To Be

A Story from the YOU Universe

~Joe finds himself getting too close to one of his grad students and he fights the urge to fall completely.~

Joe Goldberg (Jonathan Moore) x F!Reader

5,019 Words

Warnings: NSFW.

A/N: If you've not seen the Netflix show YOU, this may not be your thing. Still a great story, but it helps to know the show. Also, if you've not seen the show, I suggest you get right on that because it is AMAZING.

Set between Seasons 3 & 4. Slight spoilers for s4, but not really.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

The classroom seems cold today, like there’s something missing. It’s distracting. I can’t quite put my finger on what’s off, but there’s a charge in the air like something’s about to happen; as if lightning could strike at any second.

I don’t mean proverbial lightning, as none of my students seem to have grasped any of the contextual undertones of the book we’re discussing, but actual, live lightning. If I opened the windows behind my desk just a crack, a bolt would sneak through and bury itself in the base of my skull. Maybe that’s what I need- a jolt of electricity, something to break me out of this fog that crept up around me and climbs forever higher threatening to suffocate me.

I think I’d take the lightning to the skull over suffocation, but we don’t always get what we want.

I’m perched on the edge of the desk when the door opens and Y/N comes rushing in.

Suddenly, all of my attention is on her.

She’s never late. Never rushing, always at least ten minutes early for every appointment, every class. She seems- off today, as well. Perhaps she can feel the imminent lightning strike as well. Wouldn’t that be funny? I find a kindred amongst these idiot grad students who can’t even seem to end this horrid debate.

“I am so sorry, Professor Moore.”

Y/N’s voice cracks a bit, which in itself isn’t very unusual. She’s one of the quieter students I’ve encountered, and the only American in my current circle of acquaintances. Her accent is faint, as if she’s attempting to hide it from her schoolmates. She’s been here a while, I can infer; sprinkling in local slang and adding letters to words where back home there would be none. She’s trying hard to fit in, but why? Why not be herself?

“I got held up by-”

I hold up my hand and smile softly. “It’s fine, Y/N. Please take a seat and try to catch up.”

For fuck’s sake, she’s only twenty minutes late, but it looks like every second has weighed her down like lead.

The others pick up their debate and I sit back a bit, cross my arms, pretend to listen. This teaching thing isn’t as hard as everyone makes it out to be. Occasionally, I toss out an idea and let them run with it. Sometimes, I pay attention, mostly I don’t. Mostly I’m thinking of You. Of how beautiful You looked at that art show, of how You gasped when you saw me like You couldn’t decide if You wanted to run to me or away.

From the corner of my eye, I see Y/N timidly raise her hand and You are temporarily pushed aside. She keeps her hand up but close to her chest, as if the very act of asking to speak is somehow terrifying.

How can someone so brave be so terrified to do something as common as speak in class? She’s clearly not a scared person by nature- she moved across an ocean to attend university when she could have gone for free back home to whatever state college she decided to attend. I’ve peeked at her transcripts- she’s smart. Not win a genius grant or a full ride smart, but smart. Why is she so nervous?

I smile and a bit of her nerves seem to quell. Her shoulders relax an inch and she smiles back.

“You know you don’t have to raise your hand, Y/N,” I tell her, laughing gently to put her at ease.

She dips her chin and then looks up with the most beautiful gaze I have ever seen. Her lashes flutter upwards in slow motion, the darkness of her pupils expand, pushing nearly every fleck of color away except the gemlike glow cast by the stained glass window over my head. She smiles and her lips shine like glass. Soft, pink, beautiful glass. I can’t look away and yet I absolutely have to. Thankfully, she speaks and I can act like I’m moving away to sit in my chair and not to get away from her.

“Sorry,” she says, sweet voice sweeping over the room. “I just didn’t want to jump in because I was late but-”

“But you have something to add,” I finish for her.

Her eyes float back to me and the atmosphere shifts. The foreboding of a lighting strike vanishes and the room seems to warm up. Quickly, I sit and scoot the chair close to the desk, set my elbows on the top, clasp my hands near my lips. I can’t stop staring at her.

She nods. “Yes. If that’s alright.”

There it is again, the tiniest speck of British on her tongue. How long has she been living here, and why? It can’t just be for school. She’s too interesting for that. She dresses to blend in; muted colors and clean jeans, her hair always swept back, face free of plastering makeup or too much color. There’s only ever that pink gloss and a gentle brush of mascara. It’s as if she doesn't know how beautiful she is, or perhaps, she doesn’t care.

Or was she one of those kids who never really got any attention until they blossomed but by then it was too late to fit into their personality?

She chews her lip nervously and shyly looks away from me.

No, she knows. She knows how beautiful she is, she just isn’t one to flaunt it; doesn’t need the attention. Or is that how she draws them in?

She’s already talking, but I can’t hear a thing she’s saying. I can hear her voice, that honey like glaze she adds to things when she’s speaking passionately, but the actual words, the meaning- I can’t follow a damned thing. I’m too busy trying to figure her out.

You flash through my mind for a moment; a sweet memory of a smile in the library when You didn’t think I was looking.

What is it about a smile that says so much without words? Does it show who we really are or who we’re pretending to be?

“I just think that love shouldn’t be so easily condemned.”

Y/N’s comment breaks through my thoughts of You and I clear my throat, straighten up in my chair, focus.

Across the room, Nadia rolls her eyes, clearly disagreeing with Y/N’s interpretation. “This isn’t love, it’s obsession. The two can’t and shouldn’t be intertwined.”

Y/N bites her bottom lip and shakes her head.

What does that lip gloss taste like? Berries, perhaps… No. Stop it. Focus.

“I disagree.” Y/N sits forward and tucks her hands below the table. “Love is obsession. Obsession is love. It’s not a tautology, no, but you can have one with the other. If you’re not even a little obsessed with the person you love, is it really love at all?”

My mind is zinging, my ears ringing. Does she truly believe that, or is it all for the sake of debating Nadia? They’ve been at war most of the semester, but this seems truthful, deep.

The bell rings before I can recenter and add anything. I give my head a little shake and stand up, the chair rolling back behind me.

“Class dismissed. Great job today. Lively, wonderful discourse.” I fake a smile at the rest and then settle on Y/N.

She’s taking her time, hanging back as she gathers her things. She stuffs a notebook into her bag and the pen she’s been using rolls away from her.

“Crap.” She lunges across the table for it, but it’s too close to the edge, too far from her reach.

I drop down at the last second and save it from a dusty fate of rolling across the floor. “Gotcha.”

She’s staring when I stand up. Our eyes meet and she doesn’t shy away, but looks even deeper somehow. A smile lifts her cheeks and my pulse quickens.

No.

She holds out her hand and there’s a fleeting second when I want to trace my fingers across her palm, feel how soft and warm she is, but no. I toss her the pen and turn, trying to get her out of my head.

I have more important things to do than become a tired cliche. Some professor falling for a student. It’s an outrageous thought, and besides, I don’t need Y/N, I have You.

I hear the zipper close and a chair being pushed in. She’s leaving.

She lingers in the door and turns back to me with a sweet smile. “Have a good weekend, Professor.”

Her tone is so genuine, so kind that it nearly knocks me backwards. I can’t remember the last time anyone has truly wished me a good time. It’s such an overused pleasantry, so common and boring, but not when she says it. Not when she smiles at me like that, with her eyes still and focused on me.

The warmth spreading through me is real as well and I can’t seem to push it away. “Thank you,” I managed, barely able to stand let alone return the sentiment. “You too.”

The rest of the day goes by quickly but it feels like forever. Two more classes, two more groups of students droning on about what the author really meant, when none of them, not a single one seems to be able to read between the fucking lines. None of them can step back and see the whole picture, capture the meaning as a universe unto itself and not just a line in black and white on an otherwise blank page.

Y/N could read between the lines. Y/N would understand the sum of it all. She would get it.

Stop. Thinking. About. Her.

On my walk home, I think about You. Wondering what You’re up to, where You are tonight. The sun is setting, dragging the sky down into a deep pink and I wonder if You are seeing the same colors where You are. Someday, we’ll sit together on an island in the Pacific and see what that sunset looks like. Would You paint it for me, I wonder…

Y/N crosses my mind for a moment as I gaze at the light reflecting off a window as I pass. Would the sunset hit her shining lip gloss in the same way? Would the pink deepen with the sky? Would she smile if she caught me staring, back away if I leaned in to drag my thumb across her juicy, pink bottom lip?

No.

Darkness has settled and I haven’t moved to turn on a lamp. I’m stuck, glued to my sofa, my hands nailed to my thighs. I keep my eyes open for fear of seeing her face, but bouncing around the room looking for a distraction is only giving me a headache. I need to get out. I need something to do. I need-

A knock at the door.

Who would be knocking at my door at nearly ten o’clock at night?

Curiosity pulls me off of the couch and I switch on the lights as I head to the door. The peephole is clouded as fuck, but I can see her outline. My stomach tightens, my shoulders tense.

What is she doing here?

Her hand raises to knock again, but I unlatch the door before her knuckles hand. I find her dangling in the air, her startled face the most appealing thing I’ve seen in ages. Her eyes go wide, her jaw drops just enough to give me a peek at her tongue. Quickly, she rights herself and shies her gaze away. She chews her lip and I notice the pink gloss is gone, replaced by a deeper red.

Everything about her is different tonight. Her hair is down and fresh, her eyes are lined in black and the color blended above brings out the prisms in her eyes. Her clothes are strange as well: a short skirt, tall boots, a blouse that’s too tight to hide anything. There’s a gold string around her throat, something old, a gift perhaps from a dead relative, or a chance find at an antique shop. She would like diving through boxes of discarded wares looking for treasures, wouldn’t she?

Or maybe I’m just distracted by her appearance. Maybe I should stop trying to pick her apart and send her far, far away.

I’m not that man anymore. I’ve changed. I’m good. I have to be good for You.

It’s been too long since either of us has said anything and the fact of it is hanging in the air between us like some kind of glowing, awkward sign.

Thankfully, she speaks.

“Um… Hi.”

It isn’t much, but it breaks the painful silence.

I smile, confused but curious. My ultimate downfall.

“Y/N. What are you doing here?”

I should say something about it being inappropriate, something about contacting me only during office hours, but she knows. That’s not why she’s here. I can see it in her eyes.

Her hands are tucked behind her back, I notice. She’s holding something, not just shoving her tits in my face, although, I can’t say that I mind. She sees that I’m looking and turns to the side a bit to hide it more.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, calming herself, steeling her nerves. Why is she so nervous? What secret is she hiding? What plan has been brewing all day in her head?

That’s it, isn’t it? She was late this morning, distracted and timid because she was planning to come here.

I should be flattered, but I’m too intrigued by her boldness as she slides past me into my flat.

“I know this is highly inappropriate,” she says, the confession like a song on her lips. “But… I… Well…”

Her nose scrunches up in the most adorable way while she searches for the right words. It’s endearing and makes me want to sit for hours and listen to her talk, discover exactly who she is and why.

I’m still standing in the open doorway, I realize, so I move aside and let it close. My back presses into the door and I hold my tongue, letting her get to the point.

She’s struggling, dancing around it in her head.

I want to crack open her skull and watch the thoughts spark through the gray matter like shooting stars.

“If you’re worried you’ll get in trouble,” I say, trying to get things moving, “you won’t. I’m just wondering why you’re here and how it is that you know where I live.”

She laughs and digs her tooth into the corner of her lip. “I’m not… stalking you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I almost laugh. Almost.

“Nothing that nefarious,” she goes on. “But I did do something bad.”

The nerves seem to fall away from her the more she speaks and her demeanor changes. Her voice deepens ever so slightly and her hip pops to the side as she looks me over. Is she… flirting with me?

“I doubt you’ve done anything newsworthy, Miss Y/L/N…”

She takes a step forward and her lips pucker gently.

She is flirting with me.

“I hope not,” she says with a little laugh. “You see, I work part time in the admin office…”

I didn’t know that. I don’t know a lot about her. So many things to uncover, so many artifacts to dust off and examine.

“OK…” I push off from the door and take a step towards her. She counters, stepping backwards, guiding me to follow.

“And, well, I accidentally was looking at your files and-”

“Accidentally?”

She presses her tongue between her front teeth and smiles, eyes falling across my face. “Accidentally on purpose,” she clarifies. “I was… curious.”

“About me?”

Another step closer but she doesn’t move this time, letting me close the space between us by a few forbidden inches.

She sighs sweetly. “A little, yes.”

I dip my chin and look up, lifting my brows in question. She pulls in a quick breath, clearly enjoying the look I’ve given her.

“OK, maybe a little more than a little.”

One more step and I’m closer than I’ve ever really been to her, except just now when she invited herself in. I take a breath and she smells warm like vanilla, sweet like honey. The fantasy of berries on her lips falls away and I suddenly want to bury my face in the crook of her neck and do nothing but breathe in her scent, feel it invade my senses, infect my bloodstream.

Her chest heaves with a heavy breath and her eyes grow a little darker. She wants me.

“Maybe a lot curious,” she whispers, lifting her chin and blinking slowly.

Is she daring me to kiss her? Can she feel the lightning between us? Dare I?

No. She’s a student. She’s off limits. She’s not… You.

She must notice my hesitation and steps back a pace. She clears her throat. “Anyway. I saw that it was your birthday today.”

It’s not my birthday. Not my real birthday, anyway, just the one on the fake passport with the fake name and real photo.

I smile because I have to. “It is.”

Whatever she’s hiding behind her back shifts between her hands. “And, well, it’s presumptuous of me but I’ve never heard you talk much about friends or family and… you don’t wear a… ring. I just… Well, I know how hard it is to be a world away from what you know, and this city isn’t exactly kind in general, so…”

She’s rambling and I don’t ever want her to stop. Her voice ebbs and flows over me like a sultry tsunami and I can feel my fingers twitch, my blood rush through my system faster and faster.

“I just don’t think anyone should be alone or forgotten on their birthday so-” Finally, she reveals the mystery behind her back and holds out a green glass bottle. “I took a chance that you were a scotch man. At first I thought wine, but I know nothing about wine, and the guy at the shop said this one was good, so… Happy birthday, Professor.”

She hands me the bottle and without thinking, I take it. It’s not expensive by any means, but it’s the gesture that counts. She doesn’t let go right away, holding it with me, as if she can communicate her desires through the blown glass.

“Thank you.” I smile, let my finger brush against hers. “This is… very thoughtful.”

She lets go but doesn’t move otherwise. Her eyes are locked on me, her stare so pure.

I have to get her out of here.

Y/N shrugs and smiles, so confident now, so sure. “It’s nothing, really. I don’t even know if it’s any good.”

Her meaning lingers and I nod, gesture to the sofa as I start to peel off the seal on the top of the bottle.

“Join me for a glass?”

She bites her lip again and I nearly lose it.

“Love to.”

The scotch isn’t terrible but it’s not great. More like something you’d grab if you were just looking to get drunk, not necessarily gift someone you’re trying to impress.

Is that what she’s doing here? Trying to get me drunk? Surely, she knows she’s impressed me long before today. The looks between us in class, the lectures directed almost entirely at her have not gone unnoticed, but this, this is different. This is dangerous. She is dangerous.

The sofa suddenly feels too small. We sit close, drinking and chatting about life in London. She tells me about her family back home and how she had to cross an ocean to escape a misspent youth and an abusive father figure. I lie my way through a few answers but mostly, I let her talk.

The more she drinks, the looser her tongue gets, the freer her gestures. More than once, her hand falls to my knee and even though I should, I don’t push her away. Even though I should stand up, take her glass, ask her to get the hell out of my house, I can’t. I can’t do anything but stare at her lips as she speaks, drown myself in the tone of her voice, memorize the shape of her ears, her nose, slope of her shoulder. I’m lost in time with her and even though I know the clock is careening past midnight, I don’t care. I don’t want her to leave. I don’t want her to move. I want to be frozen in this moment with her. I want to die in her arms but not before…

“Professor?” She laughs gently, loose and relaxed from the alcohol. She leans in, her shoulder pressing against mine. “Are you even listening to me?”

Honestly, I have no idea what she’s been saying, but I can’t let her know that. I shift a bit, turning towards her. There’s barely room left for the Holy Ghost, as they say, but I doubt he’d begrudge me a little closeness, especially on my- on Jonathan’s birthday.

“I’m listening,” I whisper, captivated by the way she’s glowing. “I’m always listening to you.”

She squirms a bit and smiles behind her glass, takes another sip, downing the rest. There’s a drop of amber gold on her lip and it takes every ounce of restraint in me not to sweep it away with my tongue.

She pats the back of her hand against it and the moment is gone.

“Ya know, you’re one of the best teachers I’ve ever had. And I’m not just sayin’ that. You really are. I get you. I see you, Jonathan Moore. I see inside you.”

She slurs a bit, but not enough for it to be considered a crime if I touch her. That’s all I want to do, just a simple touch. Just to feel how soft she is beneath my fingers, how smooth the curve of her cheek.

Ripping myself away from the impulse, I take the glass from her hand and set hers next to mine on the coffee table. “I think you’ve had enough, Miss. Y/L/N.”

Her hand lands on my chest, right in the very center of me. Can she feel my heartbeat? Does she know how much I want her?

“You can call me by my name, ya know,” she says, dropping her chin and smiling. She’s so close that it would take but a tiny nudge to taste her. “Everyone just calls me Y/N/N.”

This is insane. She needs to leave. I need to slam the door behind her and never open it again.

“Y/N/N.”

Her name falls from my tongue like an incantation and her eyes go hazy. She leans closer, her breath fanning over my lips.

“Say it again,” she asks, nearly begging, “please…”

Fuck, this isn’t good. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t do this. I need to- Fuck, what does it all matter? She’s beautiful and interesting and smart and sitting next to me barely dressed and all she wants is me to whisper her name. What’s the harm?

“Y/N/N.”

The spell falls over her and I know it’s too late to back away. Her eyes fall closed and she leans in, pressing her crimson painted lips to mine. She exhales, pushes herself into the kiss, lets out a tiny moan.

She feels so good and it’s all I can think about. She pulls back and I lean in, needing more. My arms wrap around her, stealing her away. She melts against me, opens her lips to my tongue. The vanilla on her skin mixes with the scotch on her tongue and I’m blown away.

“Professor…”

If feels wrong, so fucking wrong, but I can’t stop tasting her, can’t stop breathing into her with every ounce of air in my body.

I let her go for a second, thinking she’s changed her mind, but no, she’s even more ready than I am.

She stands up, fits her knees in between mine and slowly unbuttons her blouse.

My eyes are huge, I know it. I must look like an idiot but I can’t help it. She’s here, beautiful and curvaceous, teasing me, undressing for me. It’s all for me. She’s here for me.

The blouse floats to the floor and she looks down at me, a hint of previous nerves returning. Her bra is pale pink and covered in lace. Something so pure and innocent covering up something I would kill for.

I would, I realize. I would kill for her.

She wiggles out of her skirt and her hips are distracting. I want to touch, to feel my bones crushing into hers, to sink myself deep inside just to see what it’s like, to know her, to feel all of her.

“You like?” she asks, innocence ringing in her soft voice.

What happened in her past that would make her ask such a thing? Who hurt her so badly, who crushed her self esteem to the point that she wouldn’t be able to tell if I was enjoying her delicious display?

“Of course. You’re… absolutely stunning.”

I can’t say more or I’ll break. I reach for her and she slides into my lap, locking her thighs around mine. She presses down on me and my cock responds, all blood and logic rushing down to push back at her ass.

She wraps her hands around my neck and bends to kiss me. Her fingers tangle in my hair, she curls them, tugs gently, testing, enjoying. Her kisses deepen and her hips roll. I’m about to lose my mind.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first day of class,” she moans, scraping her nails across my scalp.

The sensation is intoxicating and my eyes roll back a bit as she tugs hard. Her right hand is locked in my hair and her left is dragging down my chest. I should stop her. I should stand up. I should…

“Fuck.”

Her hand sneaks into my slacks and she scoots back onto my knees for better access. I can’t even think straight as she rubs at my cock. Her hand is soft, warm, firm. I know I’m moaning, but I can’t help it. I might just die here beneath her.

Her tongue glides across my lips. “So hard to sit in class and not dream about fucking you…”

Something snaps inside of me and I let go. I grab at her tits, peel the delicate lace down and pinch her nipples hard until she’s crying out and arching against me.

“I can’t even read anymore,” she admits, nearly breathless as my lips seal around her left nipple. “Every page makes me think of you. I can hear every word in your voice. I- oh God-”

I bite down just enough to stop her train of thought and I look up to see a blank, beautiful stare.

“I want you,” she whispers, lips never quite closing after.

Fuck. This is what I was trying to avoid. This feeling, this hunger inside of me. This need to fall into someone else, this treacherous lust that forces me to act.

“Please…”

Her hand falls to the nape of my neck and it’s so delicate, so tender that I break.

Wrapping my arms around her, I stand and twist, flipping her over onto her back. She gasps and reaches for me, kissing through the shock while I tug the slacks from my hips. She yanks at my shirt, fumbling with the tiny plastic buttons, licking at every new inch of exposed flesh.

“Want you inside me so bad,” she sings, nearly praying as if I’m some ancient god on high that can make all her dreams come true.

I don’t know about all of them, but this prayer, I can answer.

I tear the lace from her hips and fall down over her, crushing her into the old sofa. Her breath stops for a blessed second and I swear I can hear her heart racing through the silence. She runs her hands across my shoulders and down, curling them around my hips while spreading her legs wider.

“Please… Please… Please…”

Her whine is pathetic but I can’t get enough. If I had it in me to drag this out, to tease her for hours, I would, but the scotch has clouded my head and the sight of her strung out and desperate makes it impossible to wait.

She inhales hard when I sink into her. I can feel myself falling but I press my hands beside her head and hold on as best I can.

She feels like heaven.

Or the closest thing to heaven I’ll ever know.

Wet and warm and tight, I can feel her throbbing around me. Every thrust is like magic, making her shiver and squirm and tighten up even more. She clings to me, nails digging into my arms, mouth searching and thirsty for more.

“Jon-”

I almost go insane. It’s not even my name, but it feels so right on her lips that I wish it was.

I feel her orgasm; her body clenching down on me and pulling me in deeper. It’s so hard not to scream her name at the top of my lungs. Nearly impossible not to stay here forever.

I fall down, shove my face into the crook of her neck and thrust a few more times. I know it’s over too soon, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

She rakes her hand through my hair, gently this time, and finds my lips, kissing me sweetly.

“Hi,” she laughs when our eyes finally focus and find each other through the afterglow.

God, she’s beautiful. So giving, so loving, so perfect in a million different ways that it’s actually breaking my heart.

I smile and peck her lips as I go soft inside of her.

“Hello, You.”

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engeorged · 1 year

Text

Aster's Maze

Follow up to Obi's Place and Santa’s Otto

Art by @badoobers

Words by @engeorged

I know it’s been over a year since I posted, but it’s been quite a journey for me. One I’m not even sure if I’m ready to talk about. The encounter with Obi changed me somehow and I’m not the same person I was. I can’t quite seem to settle anywhere for very long any more. I feel restless, and to be blunt, like I’m not quite fully present wherever I am. My mind is always in a different place?

Let me go right back. By now, you’ve probably read about my encounter at Obi’s place. I’m not gonna lie, I was a wreck for a few days. It was like a hangover meets a sausage casing? The amount of food he’d packed in me took days to digest. I was swollen for 72 hours, not really able to do anything but sleep and go to the toilet. (I’ll spare you the details although I’m aware a few of you out there will want them you dirty bastards!!) I didn’t check my messages the whole time but after my last post, a lot of you had reached out to me. Turns out there’s quite a few of these guys around and they don’t fuck about! The pictures you all sent me were quite eye opening! (That's maybe for another post!)

The whole thing felt like a dream, but on reflection I realised it was a pretty good dream. I hate to admit it, but being able to eat that much food was quite a turn on. I tried for months to find him again and ask what he did to me. I’ve not been able to repeat it by myself, and trust me, I’ve tried. I can’t really even eat half of what he put into me. Every few weeks I would sit down in a restaurant or a buffet place and just block the afternoon out and eat as much as I could to see what would happen. Now I’m a big guy (and getting bigger!) and I could probably out eat most people if it came down to it but there’s just no way I can get as full as I did that morning. My belly is definitely increasing in size and capacity but still, without whatever magic he was using I can’t do it again.

To cut a long story short, I ended up travelling. The few stories you sent me (that weren’t totally nuts) were fascinating, but from all over the world. I’ve been searching for trolls in Norway, piscies in the UK, dragons in china, tikoloshes in Africa. Nothing! Not a single bite. I was starting to believe that maybe it was a hallucination from being so over tired. Maybe the stripes on the road had hypnotised me as I drove or something.

I’m currently living in Greece for a bit. I’ve pretty much run out and so I found a casual labour job on a building site in Greece. It’s a bit of a shit show to be honest, but all I have to do is turn up and lay bricks for a few hours in the afternoon and I get paid! The extra bit of timber I’d put on means I break a sweat the second I get up, as even though it’s early autumn, here it’s still 24 degrees by midday!

It was coming up to lunch time on the site when I started feeling a bit faint. I realised I’d not had anything to drink for a few hours and I was super dehydrated. I grabbed my water bottle and when lifted to my lips, only a few drips came out, so I had a scan of the area and saw a guy with a cart selling gyros and beers. Usually the street food was pretty good around here so I headed over, still wearing my tight high viz vest. As I got close to the stand I started to realise how hot the guy was selling them, now I’m newly ‘out’ and so I don’t still fully know what my type is but I can tell you reader, this guy was everyone’s type. He was stacked, his arms were like ripe watermelons and as I got close I realised how huge he was. I’ve told you I’m 6’5, but this guy towered over me. He must have been 7 feet easily. His hair was everywhere and he had this crazy medallion around his neck with a symbol on it I recognised from somewhere.

Now, I know my story has ended up on some niche websites and blogs, so I know what you pervs are all waiting for. So here it is. His gut was potentially the hottest thing I have ever seen. It was huge. He was so tall it was practically oval. Firm and round and pushing against the buttons in his shirt. It was like he wasn’t even tempted to hide it. In fact, as I approached, he lifted his arms above his head to stretch which meant that there was a good three or four inches of furry dome poking out from underneath. He looked as stuffed as I was at Obi’s. As I got nearer I started to regret my decision to go over. I must have looked like an absolute state. I was wearing my battered work jeans and fluorescent jacket, covered in brick dust and sweat and I absolutely stank. A 280 lbs slab of man like me working in 30 degree heat is a recipe for funk, and I was dripping with it. He looked up and saw me so there was no going back, I committed and walked up trying to look cool. Something about him made me want to melt into a puddle. I said ‘Yasass’ in my best Greek accent and he replied with a bass filled ‘Hello, how can I help you’ in perfect English. His accent was vaguely British with a hint of Greek overlayed. The rumble of his voice made something shift inside me. I think I was in love.

I ordered two beers and paid him. Lifting it to my lips, thirst took over and downed one on the spot. I didn’t really want to leave, I wanted to try and get his number or something. I downed the second beer and I could see it must have impressed him as he leant forward in his cart and offered me another. I ordered two and offered him one which he took. We stood chatting about the weather and what I was up to and as we chatted he started putting together a huge gyro full of amazing smelling meat. There was a hint of salad at the bottom but the thing was packed as tight as his shirt. He wrapped it up with his strong hands and offered it to me. I took it immediately and took a big bite, within minutes the thing had gone. It was the best tasting thing I’d ever had. When I finished I realised he’d just been watching me eat it, not saying anything. His dark eyes focussed on me making me feel very seen. He had very keen eyes that looked deep into my soul. (I know how pretentious that sounds, don't worry, but you’ll see I’m right in a minute!)

I jokingly said I could eat another one and before I’d finished my sentence he had one there in his large paw! I won’t bore you with the details because there will be a lot more later but suffice to say I ate 3 of his huge gyros. I was substantially full, my own belly was beginning to push out against my work clothes and I’m pretty sure I lost a button I offered to pay but he wouldn’t take it. He just said he’d see me again. I went back to work on the site very full and very horny!

I stopped by for lunch every day for the next week and a half. In the evenings I discovered he owned a small but very cool restaurant bar selling the same food but with the addition of a whole selection of spirits and cocktails. It was a full two weeks before I plucked up the courage to ask him out. There was just something about him that drew me in. Reflecting back I don’t know if we actually spoke about much. Even now I know very little about him. All I remember is his huge belly, round and tight, every day staring at me. Perfection in a fursuit. I remember that he had a few piercings. The medallion round his neck had chains coming off it connecting to nipple piercings. He also had a heavy gold nose ring, which, if I wasn’t thinking with my dick, might have been a bit of a clue. I was looking out for whatever Obi was, not whatever he was. And is, I guess?

On reflection, and with what I know now, he was strategically increasing my already substantial belly capacity for the game. (More on that later) Every meal, he would give me a little bit more food. A bag of stuffed vine leaves here, some baklava there, extra meat in the wrap, a special sauce, larger wraps. Before I knew it I was eating 6 of his gyros twice a day with whatever accompaniments he palmed off on me that day. Every evening I would spend bloated and swollen, nursing my aching stomach whilst thinking of Aster. (Oh I forgot, one thing I did get out of him was his name) I guess I should add that I didn’t twig what was happening in case that’s not obvious. I was bewitched by everything about him to the point where I didn’t realise he was testing me out for something much bigger.

A few weeks in I had a penny drop moment, I’d just finished my 6th evening gyro and he was making me one more to finish me off. My belly was huge, packed with the supply of food he’d been encouraging me to eat. I was wearing a now painted-on shirt and I was standing in the street at 5pm obediently stuffing myself silly with his street food. I’d gone past full a few gyros ago and it was now simply pushing and stretching my stomach more and more. The feeling of the stretch (as some of you probably know) is exquisite. I’d experienced it fully with Obi and I’d been chasing that feeling all over the world to get to that place of total engorged capacity and it dawned on me suddenly I was there again. Something about that day made me realise I'd met another one of these creatures. Aster wasn’t human.

I swallowed down my last bite and took the next one from his massive hairy hand. I looked at him properly for maybe the first time. Looking past my own lust and attraction and I saw that he wasn’t quite ‘right’. His hair was shaped in such a way that hair didn’t really grow. His side burns were much more than a side beard and that ring in his nose was huge because his nose was so large and flat. And his belly! No human belly would ever be that size and rounded shape when it was that big. It would be sagging down over his belt, not sitting proudly on top of it defying gravity. I started eating the food he’d made me and asked him outright. ‘Who are you?’ He looked me in the eye and said with a slightly crooked grin ‘Obi said you could eat.’

I stood back aghast. He was one of them. I had so many questions. But before I could ask any of them he started packing up his cart. I found myself rooted to the spot while he packed away. I literally couldn’t move. As he grabbed the handles he turned to me and put his large hand on top of my distended stomach and winked. And that’s when I saw it. The little purple twinkle in his eye. With that, he was gone and I was finally able to move. The fullness I was not noticing yet hit me and I nearly sat down on the pavement where I stood but I managed to pull myself together and make it back to the site where I did very little work. He’d fed me as much as Obi had done but without me noticing. And I let him!

I could hardly wait for opening time at the restaurant that evening. Still full from lunch, I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to ask him out or just demand some answers. When I saw him behind the bar, cleaning a glass with a tea towel I knew what I wanted. I marched right up to the counter but before I had a chance to speak he pulled out a single purple rose which he handed me. As I looked at him in the low light, I realised all his confidence had fallen away and he was genuinely a little nervous. Turns out he’d fallen for me too. He ended up asking me on a date. Who knew a 7 foot tall Minotaur would be such a hopeless romantic. (Yeah I just dropped that in. I didn’t know how else to say it really! It is what it is?) He told me that he finished around midnight but that he had somewhere he wanted to take me and would that be alright. I agreed, obviously! And parked myself on a table by the window to wait for him.

Even though the restaurant was pretty busy, he found time to be quite attentive. Every hour he brought me another rose and a plate of something to eat. By the time it was midnight I had a vase full of flowers and a belly full of Greek food! Bear in mind I was stuffed from lunch and I arrived at the restaurant at 6. So do the math to work out how full I currently am. That’s important for the rest of the story! As the final customers left I watched as he whipped round the place lifting the chairs and sweeping up as fast as he could. It was kind of cute to see how keen he was. When it was all done he explained to me that he wanted to take me somewhere that was special to him, somewhere he thought I would enjoy. He looked a little sheepish but I agreed. We walked through town (slowly I might add, I was basically round at this point) as he held my hand. Not many people can make me feel small but walking around holding this giant's hand was quite humbling. At this point I think my belly was bigger than his but he was still over half a foot taller than me. Being near him calmed my stomach too. It was like I was just pleasantly full when I was near him, not dangerously packed to bursting. We chatted a little bit but we mainly walked in silence, happy in each other's company.

We arrived at a sort of park on the edge of town. There were a few ruins we walked past but we ended up at the edge of what looked like a small cave. In any other setting I would have run a mile but he has been so tender with me I just felt super safe. In the moonlight, at the edge of the cave we stood looking into each other's eyes. He slowly leant in to kiss me and I let him. As he leant back I felt myself rooted to the spot again unable to move. He started walking backwards into the cave and as the dark consumed him he winked again and beckoned me to follow him. After a minute the effects of whatever it was wore off and I was able to slowly walk into the cave. After a few steps I discovered that it was lit all along by torches and it started to become more of a corridor. There was no sign of Aster but I carried on into the maze. As I walked I felt a little rumble in my stomach. I brushed it off as just digestion starting and kept going. After a few turns it saw a few petals in the ground. The massive softie had left me a trail to follow.

Eventually, I came across a small recess in the wall with a little table set into it and a candle. I sat down on one of the chairs and Aster emerged from out of the darkness with two heavy cloched plates. He sat down and put the plates in front of us. He pulled the cloches off to reveal a sizeable plate of oysters. I smiled and he smiled back. I found myself inexplicably hungry and went to take my first one, but he leant over and stopped me. He picked up a large oyster and lifted it to my lips. I smiled and opened my mouth and titled my head back. If I’m totally honest I’ve never eaten oysters before but I’d seen it in films. I knew I was supposed to swallow them whole so fortunately I didn’t make a tit of myself. I don’t know if you’ve had them before but I’m not gonna lie, they taste good but they are like swallowing snot! Being fed them was hot though! Knowing I had the full attention of this slab of man was really doing it for me! He fed me a few and then sat back and I did the same for him! Watching his heavy Adam's Apple bob up and down as he swallowed was a surprising new kink I discovered in that cave!

Suffice to say, it was like time worked differently in that cave. We’d only been there a few minutes and there were a fair few oysters on each of our plates. Maybe 3 dozen each? They didn’t really take long to eat but it felt like we were there for hours. I wasn’t counting the oysters but by the time we’d cleared the plates, my belly had advanced quite a way. Like way more than a few dozen oysters would have done. It was still tight and round but it was a lot bigger and heavier. It appeared that my tank top had ripped at the edges and so I just took it off. Even though we were underground it wasn’t cold so I was happy in just my jeans.

I looked at Aster and he had the biggest grin on his face. His own belly was beginning to blow out from our oyster binge. I could see even more of his substantial furry belly pushing out from his shirt. I wasn’t sure if he looked taller at that point? Everything about him was larger in some way and he was meatier and hairier too. (Yes every part of him was bigger. I won’t say more than that!) He was absentmindedly rubbing the underneath of his belly curve as he watched me readjust to my new bloated mass. His eyes were both kind and predatory at the same time. We stood there for a little while admiring one another until he winked and shimmered like Obi used to. With that he was gone and the chase was back on. I lumbered on further into the maze of tunnels, my swollen midsection slowing me down considerably. The path twisted and turned as I was led deeper in.

I couldn’t tell you how long it was until I found him. At first, I began to hear running water and so, for want of any other clues, I followed the noise. The walls of the maze were beginning to look less constructed by human hands and more cave-like, I guess? Stone bricks giving way to actual stone. I even thought I saw a few flashes of gemstones here and there but I was more interested in my next meal. Even though I must have eaten a week's worth of food so far, I was still inexplicably hungry. I don’t know if I can describe how it felt. My insides felt packed full. Like totally solid. There was very little give to my belly. And yet I knew I wanted more. Actually I needed more. The stretched feeling I have when I’m around these guys is something I’ve never experienced before.

Eventually, the water got louder and louder until I walked through a stone archway and found myself in a cavernous expanse. The sound of water turned out to be an underground waterfall, the water cascading down into a piercing blue lagoon. The ceiling was lit with some sort of glowing insects which were making a melodic rhythmic chirping sound. I searched around the expanse until I found him. He was sitting with his legs in the water next to a fire where he seemed to be grilling fish. It was the first time I’d seen his legs and they were indeed as you would imagine them to be. Covered in thick black hair. I couldn’t see his feet as they were in the water but I am guessing he didn’t have five toes at this point. It seemed that he was becoming more of his true self the closer we got to the centre. I made my way round and joined him sitting by the water. It was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever been. We sat there for a few moments in silence. Enjoying the beauty. I realised after a while that he was holding my hand. He turned his attention to the fire and pulled out a perfectly grilled fish which he placed next to himself and he began to break off pieces of the succulent meat and began feeding it to me. The fish melted in my mouth. It was so succulent and tender. I ate the whole thing quickly and he brought a second fish over and put his hands back on the floor as a signal for me to feed him. I obliged, tenderly placing it into his mouth. We did this for a while until all the fish he was cooking had gone. He leant forward and I thought he was going to kiss me again but instead he plunged his hand into the water and pulled out more fish. I’m no expert but I know one of them was a Salmon, and a pretty big one at that. And I think there was a rainbow trout and something else sort of blue? We carried on eating and cooking and eating and cooking for hours. The time weirdness means I have no idea how long we were there or how many I ate at this point, but looking at the both of us we were both much bigger. I don’t know if it’s part of the atmosphere or I genuinely ate that much but there it was. My own belly was enormous. Way bigger than I had been in the diner. His gut was spectacular. Round and hairy and now totally free from his shirt. Bear in mind he was nearly 8 feet at this point.

He reached over and tenderly began to massage my own swollen stomach. His hands, surprisingly gentle, but firm. I closed my eyes and relaxed and basically let him do what he wanted to me. All of my senses seemed to be heightened, every little touch was like a wave of ecstasy flowing across my skin. His smell was heady, strong and potent and filling my nostrils. Eventually, I realised he’d gone but I stayed there for a little while longer. Partly because it was so beautiful but also partly because I could hardly move.

I pulled myself to my feet, hauling my cantilevered belly up. It was still self supporting and jutting straight out from me into the air. I wished there was a mirror somewhere so I could have seen it properly. I saw an opening in the wall near the waterfall so I followed it through into a darker and more narrow part of the maze. The walls were closer than before and there were a few parts where I was worried I might not get through with my newly ballooned gut. After a while I started to smell the aromatic smell of cooking pork which made me instantly hungry again. I followed the smell and found three doors with a riddle written above it. I can’t remember the riddle but it was something about liars and guessing the way. You can probably guess that I’m not the smartest guy, I’m not dumb, but when it comes to stuff like riddles I’m out. My belly was rumbling loud at this point too so I was distracted. I decided to just listen at each of the doors. Door one I could hear a whistling noise which I reckoned was some sort of drop. Door two was a distinct growling snore. Although Aster was super stuffed I was pretty sure it wasn’t him asleep, and having met some of these guys I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a cute teddy bear behind there! I approached door three and had a listen. I could just about hear a sizzling sound and with the smell of pork I couldn’t handle it so I threw the door open. I wasn’t disappointed!

The room was a small stone cell with a fire pit sunk in the bottom. On top of it was a decently sized pig on a spit. I couldn’t see Aster so I stepped in gingerly. The door closed behind me and as I turned it dissolved into the wall. There was no way out. I stepped into the room and looked into the shadows at the edges. And there he was, taller than ever. As he stepped out into the light of the fire I could see he’d changed more. The first thing I noticed were the horns that had now sprouted from the top of his head. They weren’t massive but they were slightly curved and protruding from his thicker hair. The hair wasn’t just thicker on his head either. He’d now taken off his shirt and I could see the extent of it. He was pretty much covered in thick black hair all over his arms and sides. Virtually the only skin visible was across his bloated sphere of a belly. And that had a decent covering all along the bottom of the curve stretching up to a thick happy trail that snaked up to his hairy pierced pecs. The thick gold chain connects to his medallion.

He spoke with a deep gravelly voice that I could literally feel in my feet. He told me under no circumstances was there to be any pork left before we left this place. Under any other situation I would have laughed. The pig had to be 200 lbs of meat. That would literally have taken any normal person a few weeks to eat. But here, with him, I knew right there that we would do it. I was apprehensive to think about how much my stomach would distend after that but I knew that whatever this place was it would be ok. I walked up to him and put my hands firmly on the sides of his thick belly and looked up. He looked down at me and bent his head to kiss me on the lips again. I smiled and sighed with contentment. Something special was about to happen.

He pulled back and handed me a sharp knife, and took out one of his own and cut a slab of meat. The juices were rubbing down his arm. He pulled off the crackling and greedily began to eat it, crunching and swallowing it down. He offered me the meat and I eagerly opened my mouth to receive it. It tasted even better than it smelt and within minutes the whole slab had disappeared into me. We continued to feed one another the pork for a while, taking it in turns to slice off large chunks of flesh and sharing the delicious meat. We were soon covered in the stuff, our bellies continuing their rapid expansions. As we progressed, instead of slowing down we began to speed up. We even abandoned the knives and took to simply ripping off our next portions and guzzling down our haul. He fed me and I fed him and we ate ourselves. The boundaries of reality slipped away as we gorged on the meal together. (Yes I know that sounded a bit twatty but that’s how it felt. How many pigs have you shared with a fucking Minotaur?)

We didn’t take any breaks in our gluttony, the pig simply ended up inside both of us. I’d guess Aster ate more, simply because he is a good few feet taller than me but I didn’t notice him actually eating more. By the time the pig was reduced to bones we were both insanely swollen. My own gut was packed so big I couldn’t see anything else when I looked down. The skin tightly stretched over the vast quality of food it held inside itself. If I thought for a second about how much food I contained I’m not sure my brain could handle it. I looked like someone had slipped an air compressor up my arse and turned it on for a good half an hour. Physics had to be different in there because there was no way I’d have been able to stand up without some supernatural help. Looking at Aster, he was the same. Comically swollen, his huge abdomen surrounded by a sea of hair. The only difference between us is that you could still see some of his muscle definition. The power and strength he contained was tangible when you looked at his animal-like frame.

Covered in grease and bits of food we sat back admiring each other's new size. I wanna keep the story a touch modest, but he was clearly aroused by our efforts. I won’t go into details because I never kiss and tell, but fuck me he was a big boy! I’m glad there was magic in the site because after what we did next I could have ended up in hospital!

After we had, erm, cuddled, we lay back with our heads next to one another. Our engorged stomachs stuck high into the air, solid and packed with food, unyielding in their size and volume. We stayed for a period of time and chatted about our lives. Aster clearly wasn’t wanting this to be a one off encounter. He was surprisingly affectionate and romantic for a half man half bull. He wanted to know all about me and my life and what my plans for the future were. It was such a tender moment I could have stayed there forever but Aster had one more plan up his sleeve. He pulled himself up easily and offered me a hand to help me up. I just about managed to get to my feet, helped by his superhuman strength I assume! Kissing me again he led me by the hand into the shadows where we found a new door. Fortunately, it was a double door as neither of us would have fit through anything smaller at this stage. We walked into a vast cavernous space. I didn’t think it was possible but it was even more beautiful than the underwater lagoon where we ate the fish. The glowing insects were back and this time other glowing creatures joined them. Small colourful lizards darted from rock to rock making patterns in the water that filled half the floor. Several smaller waterfalls fed this one, each framed by cascades of glowing plants with brightly shining flowers falling down. Alongside the water was a long banqueting table covered with food. There were golden bowls and plates full of oversized fruits and bread. Huge slabs of roasted meats and wheels of cheese. At the end there appeared a large ornately decorated cornucopia which seemed to be the source of the food. Aster led me to the table and sat us both down in large oversized thrones. We’d made it to the centre of the labyrinth!

As we sat down, our swollen bellies resting on our legs I realised he had plans to carry on eating. Whatever magic was present meant I definitely felt hungry but there was no way I could physically move to get the food. I was practically pinned down underneath the sheer ridiculous size of my own belly. I was about to say this to Aster when I heard something move in the water. I looked across to see six men emerge from the water. I say men, we both know they weren’t that. If I had to guess I would say they were some sort of water nymphs? They had a pale bluey green tinge to their skin which had a faint shimmer to it as well. They were lithe and incredibly beautiful, their muscles and sinews visible underneath their skin. Their tight shorts left very little to the imagination and their eyes looked as hungry as I felt. They were here to feed us.

I don’t know whether we were there for a few days or weeks or months. The food from the cornucopia kept coming and we kept eating. Non stop gorging, all enabled by the blue dudes. Their dexterous long fingers feeding us food and massaging our swelling bellies. We both ended up the size of trucks, our inhumanly swollen bellies stretching way past what was physically or morally possible.

At some point we were done and we were pushed or rolled to the edge of the water. I slipped in and sank heavily to the bottom. Whether I was magically able to breathe underwater or whether I somehow didn’t need to breathe, I’m not sure, but Aster and I were able to move freely under the water. We swam for a while through caverns and caves, snaking away from the maze. When we surfaced we found ourselves on a small island just off the coast of the town. Away from the magical influence of the labyrinth, Aster was back to his more human form and his belly was vastly reduced but still clearly swollen. I was the same, my belly was huge, but it at least was obeying the laws of physics. Again, I don’t want to make the story any more r-rated than it needs to be so let’s say we spent some time with each other there. We needed some time to digest and recover as well.

Friends, I don’t know whether what happened was a dream or some sort of vision, but I do know I’ve gained 50lbs in a few days. I have a very definite and prominent ball belly now, which I’m not unhappy about. I also have a new boyfriend. Unlike Obi, Aster was happy to stick around, so I do know that something happened. I don’t really want to ask too many questions from Aster because I don’t really mind if it was real or not. I know he’s here and I know we ate a shit ton of food and I know he’s not going anywhere

#belly expansion #gainer fiction #gay gainer #stuffing #belly fiction #gainer stories #male gaining #stuffing art #gainer artwork #gainer story

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discount-shades · 1 year

Text

Sleepy Baby Part 7

a/n: I’m glad so many people are enjoying this little story. It seems to have a life of its own in my brain.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin / Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1500 ish

Summary: You meet the rest of the Dagger Squad.

Previous Masterlist Next Our Song

The feel of lips on your shoulder wakes you. You go to roll over but find you are held tight in Jake’s arms. He is a solid weight behind you and has even tangled his legs with yours so you can’t move your legs. “Jake?”

“I told you I would have a better way of waking you if I was here,” Jake's voice is raspy with sleep and you can feel goosebumps rising as he returns to kissing the soft skin of your shoulder.

“You feared me hitting you with a pillow when you woke me so much you pinned me down?” When your half hearted attempt to pull your hand out of his fails you relax back into his embrace.

“No, that's just a bonus.” He gives you a peck on the cheek while he relaxes his hold on you. “You move in your sleep lots and I kept getting hit with elbows and knees.” You carefully roll over so you are facing him. “See, in your sleep you are not that careful when you roll,” he is grinning. “I think I have bruises.”

“You could have just moved away.” You think of Ian and how he would always make a point to say he had to move away from you while you slept.

“I’d rather be close to you.” Jake’s eyes move around your face and you blush. You lean forward and give him a soft kiss on the lips before getting out of bed.

“I’m going to shower and then we can make breakfast,” you tell him stretching. His eyes light up as they follow your body as you arch your back.

“Do you want company in there?” Jake's eyes meet yours and he waggles his eyebrows. You grab your pillow and hit him in the face with it in reply. His laughter follows you into the bathroom as you close the door.

After your shower you wander into the kitchen and find Jake, dressed in yesterday's clothes, flipping pancakes. “You didn’t have to do that,” you tell him as you walk up to him and wrap your arms around his waist.

He turns and gives you a kiss on the head. “I needed something to do when you wouldn't let me wash your back.”

“Yeah,” you roll your eyes, “because that's what you wanted to do in there.”

”You are prone to such indecent thoughts,” he grins down at you before giving you a peck on the lips. “I like it.”

When the pancakes are eaten the two of you clean the kitchen together. It takes longer than it should because Jake keeps pulling you into his arms for a hug or a kiss any time you are in arm's reach of him. When Jake finally has to leave he pulls you into his arms for a final kiss goodbye.

“Are we still on for later this afternoon?” He asks, referring to a barbeque being hosted by Maverick. You nod and he sneaks another kiss. “I can’t wait for everyone to meet you. I’ll pick you up at 2:00.”

You wave to Jake as he drives away and bite your lip. You are nervous to meet his coworkers. You haven't hung out with a group of people in over a year and you have also never had to meet the friends of a significant other before.

Jake will sometimes talk about his coworkers, but with everyone having a call sign as well as a first and last name you have a hard time keeping them straight in your head. You hope putting names to faces will help.

…

Hours later Jake places his hand on your lower back in reassurance, when he notices your nervous energy. “Don’t worry,” he whispers as you walk through the gate into Maverick’s backyard. “They’ll love you.” You smile back wanly and nod, taking a deep breath.

Jake introduces you to Maverick and Penny first. “So you found her,” Penny laughs at Jake. “You know he bribed me to call him if you ever came back to the Hard Deck?” She tells you, “He offered to buy the bar a round if I called.”

“I did not know that,” you say, turning to Jake and watching the faint hint of a blush on his cheeks. “But it doesn’t surprise me.”

“He also tried to convince me to remove In the Navy from the jukebox,” she grins, “I refused so you can play it for him again when he needs it.”

“Don’t give her ideas,” Jake says, pulling you away as you laugh, “she doesn't need any help.”

The next half hour is a rush of names and faces as Jake introduces you to everyone. You soon find yourself a spectator of an argument over who is the best pilot. Jake and Bradley are arguing using terms that you are unfamiliar with and you watch with wide eyed confusion, eyes flitting between the two.

“Why don’t we just vote,” Natasha suggests with a roll of her eyes.

“No, it’s not a popularity contest.” Jake insists. “Quantitatively I’m better.”

Bob turns to you. “Who do you think is the better pilot?” he asks you.

Your eyes go even wider. “I don’t know,” you answer, surprised at being brought into the conversation.

“Well that’s not fair,” Bradley pouts, “She will never pick me.” crossing his arms.

Natasha grins at you, “Come on, who do you think needs the ego boost out of these two?” She motions to the two men now looking at you.

You laugh, “probably neither of them.”

“Yeah but one of us is better,” Jake insists, putting his arm around your waist with a cocky grin. “Come on Kisses, who's your favorite pilot?”

You look into Jake's eyes and can see the exact moment he realizes you are not going to give the answer he wants and he sighs and rests his head on your shoulder.

“Snoopy.” Jake bursts out laughing at your response.

“Who the hell’s call sign is Snoopy?” Bradley asks in confusion.

“Charlie Brown's dog,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “He flies a Sopwith Camel and is a World War I Flying Ace.”

Bradley blinks at you in consternation. “You can't pick a cartoon dog,” he insists, “what did you even base that decision off of?”

“He’s the cutest,” you tell him grinning. “Jake is second cutest.”

“I’m not entertaining this,” Bradley sighs in defeat as he walks away. Jake grins down at you.

“I have no problem being second to Snoopy," he tells you. Walking you over to some chairs before leaving to get some drinks.

Javy walks over and sits next to you. “We were all relieved when he found you.” Javy chuckles at your startled face. “Jake is about as subtle as a brick through a window when he likes someone.”

“He talks about me?” The thought gives you a warm feeling inside and you can't help the grin on your face.

“Incessantly.” Javy says with an eye roll. “He is much less mopey since he found you. He’s crazy about you.”

“Yeah, I kinda get that feeling too,” you say watching Jake walk back to you with a big smile and two drinks in his hands.

“I know Jake better than anyone, he’s my best friend,” Javy says, turning your attention back to him. “If you are not in it for the long hall you are going to break his heart.”

“I don’t want to break his heart,” you answer in a whisper.

“Just make sure you and he both know where you stand,” Javy replies before getting up. “Here, Jake, take my seat I’m going to bug Phoenix.”

Jake hands you your drink before sitting down. “That conversation looked serious.”

“He was telling me all your secrets,” you joke back.

Jake groans, “Don’t say that, Javy knows my secrets.”

When the fire is lit in the evening you find yourself curled in Jake's lap with his arms around you so everyone around the fire can have a chair. Everyone is laughing at you over how you had no idea the Navy had pilots when you met Jake.

“I didn't live near a base before!” you insist. “And the only other person who mentioned Navy Pilots to me was a four year old boy who wanted to be one when he grew up and I just assumed he was mistaken.”

“Imaginary kitten boy?” Jake asks.

“No, Wears his shoes on the wrong feet and stumbles into everything boy,” you reply. “He is not a child that inspires any confidence that he knows what he is talking about.”

“No kid that age knows what they’re talking about,” Maverick pipes up from across the fire. “Bradley’s dream was to be a firetruck when he was about the same age.”

“You know what,” Bradley says over all the laughter, “I stand by that dream.”

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin/reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #topgun maverick #topgun hangman #hangman/reader #top gun hangman #hangman top gun #hangman #hangman fluff #hangman x reader

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notsoattractivearenti · 7 months

Text

Two and A Half Men (Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader x Weston McKennie)

WC: 1.1K

Warnings: none

A/N: ok i'm not sure how to put it properly in the title without looking like a threesome group LMAO but in this fic Christian is reader's partner and Weston is both reader and Chris' best friend. and i'm aware Christian is holding a ball in the cover pic but imagine it’s a baby instead! this one is probably meh but i've been thinking about this idea all day and just had to write it down. hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

—

“Knock knock… Can I come in?”

You see Weston’s head peeking through the slightly-opened door, respectfully waiting for you and Christian to let him in.

You wave your hand from the hospital bed to invite him to come inside. Wes carefully opens then closes the door, and quietly walks toward you. You see him bringing two bags of something in one of his hands but you can’t figure out whatever those may be.

“Hey, Y/N!” He gives you a big hug. “How are you feeling, my friend?”

“Hi Wes! Very exhausted, of course, but all good. Thanks for checking in.” You respond weakly.

“Oh I figured!” He laughs. “Christian told me you were in labor for almost 24 hours??? That’s wild! I don’t think I could be as strong as you were!”

You chuckle with a faint smile written on your face. You weren’t lying when you said you are very exhausted – it was a very long and painful process you had to go through to bring your child into the world. But no matter how insanely tiring the labor was, you loved every second of it and would do it all over again.

“Yeah… Wild indeed. Totally worth it, though.”

“By the way,” Weston hands you one of the bags he brought earlier, “I got you sushi. I know you love them and you couldn’t have even one during your pregnancy, so I believe you deserve some.”

“No way! Thank you Wes!” You excitedly unpack the bag and open one of the three boxes of sushi Weston gave you. You haven’t eaten one in nine months, and right now it’s like those delicious sushi are begging you to eat them right away – and obviously you can’t resist it.

“Ugh, sushi is overrated.” Christian scoffs.

—

Christian just came back from changing your baby’s diaper in the other room. He is holding your little bundle of joy in his arms – since he was just born, Christian has already become so protective of him he didn’t want the baby to ever leave his arms.

“Hush, C, no one needs to hear your trashy opinion.” You playfully clap back at his statement.

Your banter cracks Weston up. He cackles and you both do a high five.

“Ha-ha! Burn bro!”

Christian squints and shakes his head. He is more than happy to know that his best pal and his life partner are best friends, but sometimes when you two “gang up” on him – which happens really often, because you both love to make fun of Christian together – he would feel so outnumbered and get quite annoyed by it.

“Hmm, I’m not loving this dynamic, you know.” Christian says sarcastically.

“Oh boohoo, don’t be so bitter, white man.” Weston mocks him in response.

“Anyway, what’s up, new dad!?” Weston greets Christian then does the usual handshake with him – but since Christian is currently holding your baby, they do the one-hand version of the handshake.

“Happier than ever bro! I’m living the dream!” Christian gushes.

“Aww, congratulations my brother!” Weston excitedly pats Christian’s back.

Christian gently supports the baby's head and back with his hands then slightly lifts the baby closer to his face.

“Here, we want you to meet our son, Finley Mark Pulisic. You can call him Finn for short.” Christian officially introducing your little man to his best buddy.

Weston is immediately in awe of Finn. His eyes were instantly locked on the face of the cutest little human he has ever seen.

“Wow, dude, he is so precious…” Weston murmurs. “You’re so lucky. man”

“Yeah, I know.” Christian replies.

His eyes are also very much set on Finn, admiring how adorable his little one truly is. For him, “lucky” is an understatement. He feels like he has hit the jackpot with the family life he’s now living, and would not want to change even the littlest thing.

Weston feels the urge to caress Finn’s little chubby cheeks with his finger, but he doesn't want to cross any boundaries so he asks for Christian’s permission before doing anything.

“May I feel his cheeks?”

“Yeah, of course.” Christian allows him to do so.

Weston gently caresses Finn’s cheeks and his heart suddenly feels like it is exploding.

“Oh my God, why is he this soft!? These fluffy cheeks are to die for! He is so cute!” Weston just blurts his thoughts out.

You – who is currently busy eating sushi that Weston brought for you on the bed – laugh when you hear what Weston said. It is clear to you that he has become Finn’s number one fan.

“What can I say, I did make one hell of a cute baby.” You chime in.

“We. We made a cute baby.” Christian jokingly corrects you.

You roll your eyes, blow a raspberry at him, then continue eating.

“Yeah, no, Finn’s cuteness is definitely all Y/N. Like, one hundred percent Y/N.”

Of course Weston is taking your side, he just wants to get into Christian’s nerve.

“Yea, yea, yea, whatever.” Christian mutters.

—

Christian’s arms get tired from carrying the baby for quite some time, so he puts Finn down on his crib next to your bed. At the same time, Weston feels like he is forgetting something, so he looks around and realizes he brought another takeout food for Christian. He quickly grabs the bag to hand it to Christian.

“Oh, Chris, I brought you some burritos,” Weston hands the other bag to Christian, “they are not from Chipotle, but you gotta eat, bro.”

Christian chortles.

“You don’t need to do that, but thanks a lot bro.”

“Anything for my favorite new parents.” Weston winks and funnily does the finger guns at us.

“You know what Chris? I just thought about this: now that you have a son, we’re like two and a half men. Like, you and I are the two and Finn is the half. How awesome is that?” Weston randomly tells Christian about this thought that crosses his mind.

You were listening to Weston’s random thoughts and already feeling left out – obviously you are not being serious – you voice your protest to him.

“Hey! What about me? Where am I fitting in on this scenario?”

“You will be the one who gave birth to the half man!” Weston laughs.

You’re confused as you don’t find that funny, but you think you should just play along.

“Eh,” you shrug, “whatever.”

“You two can raise Finn together then.” You acted upset.

“Y/N, please, don’t be mad…” Weston pretends to beg for your mercy.

“You and I both know anyone is better at parenting than Christian, right?”

“Come on guys,” Christian groans, “stop bullying me!”

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x y/n #christian pulisic x fem!reader #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic imagines #christian pulisic fanfic #weston mckennie #weston mckennie fic #weston mckennie imagines #weston mckennie fanfic #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x you #footballer fic #footballer imagines #footballer fanfic

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childotkw · 5 months

Note

What will Bellatrix and Hadrians relationship be like? If she survives into the sequel that is. I imagine there could be some good scenes between the too… a lot of jealousy I’d imagine. Snippet?

I’d say there would always be jealousy from Bellatrix towards Hadrian 😂 even long after she accepts that he’s not going anywhere and that Voldemort’s interest isn’t going to waver. It’s not even that she’s romantically interested in Voldemort in CS - it’s more like a favoured child feeling overlooked because their parent has a new beau.

————————

The door opened and Hadrian was helpless to stop the glance over his shoulder - stupid, really, to take his eyes off of Tom for any length of time - but he quickly decided the woman who had entered was not one he trusted at his back.

Bellatrix Lestrange, coy smile and vicious eyes, caught his gaze mockingly. She swept into an over-acted bow, her chest damn near spilling out of her dress from how low she dropped, and her simpering my Lord had Hadrian sneering in reflexive disgust.

“Ah, Bella, thank you for coming,” Tom said, stepping around Hadrian to stand beside him. A possessive hand cupped his shoulder, fingers squeezing lightly as if to soothe away the rigid anger winding its way through Hadrian’s form.

“You call and I answer, my Lord,” Bellatrix breathed, staring up at the man adoringly. Hadrian shifted, uncomfortable and hating the spark of irritation in his gut at the blatant worship on the woman’s face.

“Your diligence is appreciated,” Tom offered with a charming smile. “Now, onto business. I asked you here for a reason -”

And Hadrian knew where this was going. He moved sharply out of Tom’s hold, casting accusing eyes at him. “Absolutely not.”

“Now now Hadrian,” Tom said, looping an arm around his waist and tugging him back into place. “Listen to the full proposition before rejecting it.”

Hadrian’s lips pulled into a snarl. “I will not have anyone, let alone her, following me around for days on end. I don’t require a bodyguard. You of all people should know that.”

Tom’s smile pinched, as it always did at the reminder of their fight so long ago. Hadrian’s arms loosened from where he had crossed them over his chest, a silent apology bleeding into his eyes.

His frustration at the situation was not worth reopening old wounds.

“Your safety is important to me,” Tom said, upfront and confident even when admitting what he considered a weakness. The parseltongue, and the implications behind his use of it, had Hadrian’s stomach swooping. “I know you are powerful, but it would ease my mind if you also had my very best at hand should something happen.”

Hadrian inhaled, looking up at his partner then sliding his gaze over to the woman in question. Bellatrix was watching them with fascination, her attention dipping down to study how closely Tom held him. Those black eyes met his once more, swimming with condescending amusement and an unhealthy amount of intrigue. He had always disliked Bellatrix, ever since their first meeting, but he knew she had earned her reputation and that if Tom ordered it of her, she would guard Hadrian to the very best of her capabilities.

He would be untouchable.

Hadrian looked back at Tom, pettily responding in the same language and enjoying the intake of breath from their audience. “Fine, but I reserve the right to use her as a human shield.”

Tom’s grin was - dare he say it? - smitten. “I would be disappointed if you did not, darling.”

The deliberate switch to English for the endearment made Hadrian roll his eyes, if only to distract from the faint flush on his cheeks.

#anonymous #HP #consuming shadows #harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry

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generallysapphic · 1 year

Text

how you start dating shuriri headcanons (+18)

fluff and a little smut!

i’m so utterly obsessed with these two and the possibilities of a romantic relationship with them so you know i had to write it; hope you enjoy! the +18 section is marked off with its own warnings

dividers by @firefly-graphics

reader is a shy, nerdy, black femme college junior who lives in chicago

inspired by chicago by michael jackson

riri spots you first, maybe she’s visiting home and there you go looking fine as fuck and she just has to say something

y’all get to flirting and you’re really feeling her but you can’t help but wonder why she looks so familiar.. you scrap it off and get her number so y’all can keep it contact

flash forward maybe two weeks and the fucking Queen of Wakanda decides to do a tour of the new building she provided for your school and oh lord does she look great but there she is!

riri is right beside her, holding her hand laughing and joking and now you get it

the girl you met was the queen’s girlfriend!

immediately you try to text riri and tell her you’re not looking for that type of relationship, that you’re not gonna break them up and riri needs to get her shit together and leave you alone until she does so

you get left on read and can’t help but feel bad, maybe you were too harsh? whatever it doesn’t matter you’re not a home wrecker of any kind so you leave it alone

that night you’re in your dorm just listening to music and there’s a knock, because of course there is and it’s none over than

shuri oh shit

you’re immediately stammering, already apologizing “i swear to god i had no clue yall was together like for real i knew i knew her but like not like that but oh my god, if you’re mad at me or anything just like make it quick and please just feed my cat back at home” you try to get it all out before she laughs

she’s laughing that gorgeous, bubbly laugh. you’re pleading for your life and she’s laughing

“you think i’m going to kill you because you’re flirting with my girlfriend? really?”

holy shit her accent is crazy sexy because of course it is up close but you try to stay grounded in your thoughts “umm yes?”

she smiles slyly at you “you’re very beautiful i can understand why she was”

your eyes widen and now you’re really confused because what the fuck? now shes flirting with you? after finding out you might’ve been the cause of any tension at home?

“uh i umm thank you i appreciate it uhh” “it’s okay, love, riri didn’t do anything wrong nor is anyone upset with you, alright?”

the confusion is apparent on your face, “so uhh what… what now?” you ask because you really don’t fucking know

shuri smiles again , “well her invite still stands if you wish to date her, of course,” WHAT?? “but you don’t have to, obviously. however if you’re interested in me i’m open as well,”

Literally what the fuck is happening right now

“but — but you guys are—“

“together? yes we are. and we both like you, y/n”

maybe you’ve fainted and gone to heaven, maybe you passed out and this is your final dream

the queen stands in your speechlessness “hey it’s alright if you’re not interested—“

you yell to cut her of “No!! No i’m very interested! i just — i jst wasn’t expecting it is all! i mean you both .. liking me oh my god” it’s really embarrassing how much heat you can feel is on your face

shuri raises any eyebrow, “what’s not to like? i feel offended, you judging my taste?” she smirks at you and you’re giggling

“no, no my queen i would never, i’m sorry” she smiles gently, “yeah, good. so, what do you say?”

it’s literally no other answer; “yes, i’d love to go out with you both”

it’s uphill from there; shuri takes you back to the fanciest hotel you’ve literally ever been in because when the fuck chicago get fancy hotels? and riri is waiting for you both at the door

“damn finally, i was starting to think you were fucking her with me, shit” she jokes and shuri laughs but you feel heat rise to your face and your lower end but you brush it off

“i told you i’d be back, we just talked, right, y/n?”

god your name sounds heavenly on her tongue, “yeah we just talked. and im sorry riri for just assuming you was gonna cheat on the queen of wakanda or anything, i was just..”

“confused, yeah i get it, no worries.” she looks you up and down, “so, you walking in here like you said yes so i can only assume..?”

you giggle and nod your head “yes yes i said yes,” and she fists bump and looks and shuri and smiles who says “now let’s talk”

y’all talk for about three hours that (thank god you ain’t got class tomorrow) and you ask a bunch of questions, most they were expecting

“so you literally told her about me the second you got home? damn i know i’m fine but that’s actually crazy” “okay yeah yeah, no need to get all big headed i was just excited and i knew shuri would like you too, next question!” and shuri mostly laughs

you plan your first date with both of them and then your first date with each of them separately while theyre still in chicago

the group date takes place at a fancy ass restaurant you have literally never heard of, and shuri buys your outfit while riri pays for dinner

(you quickly realize that they’re the spoiling type)

it was a lovely evening that ended in cheek kisses for and from the both of them

riri’s date comes first, as she did ask you out first initially and her home town is chicago so she wants to show you some stuff you didn’t even know about

y’all go to her favorite hideout burger joint that’s placed between two walls and a bank and she introduces you to the most unhealthy burger you’ve ever eaten in your entire life. you tell her about your move to chicago and how much you want to travel but still have grounds at home. you tell her about your classes and your major and she listens to you so intensely that you try to shy up at some parts.

you split a milkshake and then walk around her favorite mall talking and kissing softly as you get to know her after the date she suggests you guys “smoke off the rest of the day” and pulls a joint from god knows where

y’all go back to the hotel to get high while shuri is still out doing tours and walkabouts

you’ve smoked maybe once or twice for real for real so most of the night is you choking and riri laughing at you and handing water and then choking herself but all in all the two of you are giggling and talking

shuri comes back later that night and sighs before making you both go to bed and stop smoking. riri kisses your “huge ass forehead” (her words) goodnight and you sleep there in your date outfit.

shuri’s date happens three days later, two days before they have to leave. she takes you to an art museum one so huge that you’re sure most of was just fake paintings they made to fill in the space

y’all work around talk about your career goals and your life up until this point and a little of what you told riri the previous date. much like riri shuri is staring into you and listening like your preaching gospel and you get shy again before she encourages you some more

you eat at a seafood place that shuri booked all out just for you and the date so you guys could have some privacy “i don’t like people in my business” she states when you see the empty restaurant “the world nearly crumbled to pieces when it was revealed riri and i were together, and i can not doubt they would harass you as well.”

she’s too thoughtful you think and it makes you blush, “yeah that makes sense”

you talk some more before the night is over and she escorts you back to the hotel.

even though you know you’re rushing, the wine in your veins makes you bold and once youre back with both of them at the hotel, you blurt out “so how are we supposed to have sex?”

and it’s so embarrassing because you did not mean for that to sound the way it did, riri is laughing her ass off and shuri is staring at you incredulously

and you start rambling again “no wait , oh my god why did i say that? um i meant like, fuck, you know like y’all been together so y’all know each other but like me i don’t really get out out yknow? like i had like one girl i was messing with for real but she was just as inexperienced as i was so..”

riri is still dying on the floor and shuri chuckles before calming you down with her hands on your arms, rubbing up and down “calm down, alright? we can talk about that, right now if you want, but don’t stress out, understood?”

ahh she likes to be dominant. okay that’s cool “yeah yeah, i get it, totally” you mumble out

riri sighs wiping the tears from her eyes as she gets up from the floor, hoodie wrinkled and shorts barely visible, “oh my god that was funny as fuck holy shit,”

“before we talk about anything let’s get undressed, hmm?” you look at shuri with wide eyes and riri laughs again and shuri sighs. “no y/n we’re not doing anything tonight, stay with me”

right right yeah okay “shit right okay”

once you’re in your pajamas (one of shuris hoodies and some loose pants) y’all sit in a circle and riri cuts on some music just to ease some tension

(+18 section below!!!)

praise kink, bullying kink, talk of dom/sub relationships, use of pet names, dom!shuri, switch!riri, switch!reader, talk of sex, no actual sex (i’ll write some soon!)

riri starts, just as bold as she was when she came up to you that fateful day, “so what do you like? or do you want us to go first?”

you shy up again, “umm no you guys can go first”

and she smirks “well i’m a switch just to get it out of the way. i don’t mind bottoming i just don’t do it often, i really only did for shuri for real”

oh shit just right into it, huh?

“and i don’t bottom at all” shuri pipes in, staring directly into your eyes, “i suppose that’s dominant, right? but i’m not opposed to certain touches”

fuck fuck fuck , you sit cross cross to hide your arousal “um i guess i’m a switch, but i like bottoming more i think”

“yeah you look like it” riri says looking at her purse and you blush, did you really? before you respond riri gets up and sparks another blunt (because of course she does) and continues, “that’s really another reason i came up to you because you look like you listen well, and like it’s really obvious you got something going on with being told what to do, right?”

“i— i mean i guess,” shuri chimes in again “don’t you?”

her eye contact is dangerous and something makes you feel like you have to answer her “yes. yes i do.

they both smirk, “got it,” riri says confidently

oh fuck you just completely outed yourself huh?

“what ..” you clear your throat “what else do you guys like?”

“obedience” shuri says while riri says “brat”

you look between them, “okay which means..?”

shuri starts, her accent cutting the air like butter, “i need you to listen to me, that’s really it. whatever i say goes according to your limits and of course we’ll have a safe word but i don’t fuck around with what’s mine,”

jesus fucking christ . you look at riri who starts “i like brats. bold as fuck i like knocking you down a peg. that’s why im a switch because if you can tell me what to do i’ll listen, but if not then, well” she shrugs and smokes a bit

“and you, love?” shuri asks and you’re looking at her with wide eyes, “what do you want from us?”

you think for a bit and try to settle the pulsing you feel downstairs. “umm i like when i get told what to do, so like both of what you guys said. i like being ..” you sigh before you admit it “like umm lightly bullied? if that makes sense and i like when i’m on top, like physically.”

you add in “and i like to listen. so i get praised. so like . a praise kink. yeah”

you end it there before you feel like your face will melt and it’s quiet until shuri laughs and says “i can work with that”

you perk up, “yeah?”

she smiles back “yeah. you riri?”

riri, now high as fuck, nods along “yeah i’m good, just horny as hell though” she says it so causally and you laugh at her boldness

“yes that was bound to happen, but it’s been a long day and we need to pack tomorrow. y/n are you spending the night?”

riri gets up to get water and you look and shuri and nod, “yeah, yeah i can stay”

she smiles back “good. bed then, yeah?” there she is again making demands

you blindly follow, “okay,”

(+18 plus section over!)

the next morning is full of being kissed and packing; they’re both very grateful for you opening up last night and you can tell they mean it when they say ‘thank you’ when you do anything

though their trip is coming to an end, they make plans to be back and see you in two weeks once your finals are over and you can visit wakanda for an extended time

you’re given your very own pair of kimiyo beads before they head off with the dora milaje right behind them

shuri lifts your chin and kisses you goodbye “goodbye love,” she says it in xhosa and you absolutely melt and say bye back

riri hugs you tightly and kisses all over your face until she stops on your mouth and nearly knocks you over “bye baby, we’ll be back okay?”

you’re giggling still a little dizzy “hehe bye riri,”

you wave to them both before the ship doors close and it begins to hover slightly

while waving your kimoyo beads go off and it’s a text from riri “please back up girl this shit is about to take off fr ;)” and your eyes widen and you back away as far as possible, still waving

once the ship is out of your eyesight you sigh and ask the griot in your beads to set an alarm for 15 days and 3 hours

Anndddd finished i hope you guys enjoyed and sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes!

send in any requests!

#shuri x reader #riri williams x reader #shuriri x reader #my story #deijah wrote

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marvelmusing · 1 year

Text

In Another Life

Part Ten

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Alternate Universe!Reader

Summary: The hunt for the sea whip has begun, but a number of obstacles stand in your way, demanding more from you than you ever thought possible.

Warnings: canon level violence, heartrender attacks the reader, near death experiences, mentions of blood and death, fainting.

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist • Next Part

“General Kirigan.”

Sturmhond greets Aleksander with a nod, as he moves away from the railing that overlooks the docks, before he smiles brightly at you. Aleksander glances between the two of you for a brief moment before he responds.

“Sturmhond, I presume.”

The privateer’s smile twists into his usual confident smirk.

“I see my reputation precedes me.”

Aleksander doesn’t seem impressed.

“My assistant tells me you have a ship and crew ready for us.”

Sturmhond gestures out to the docks, where you see a large whaling ship being prepared to sail.

“I’m not even going to ask where you got that from.” You remark, looking over at the large ship in front of you.

“Now you’re getting the hang of things.” He teases with a smirk, nudging your shoulder and you roll your eyes despite your smile.

“The previous owner won’t be giving us any trouble, will they?” You ask with a raised brow.

He shakes his head, confident smile unfazed by your questioning.

“They shouldn’t do.”

“If you want our money, you will need to do better than shouldn’t do.” Aleksander states clearly.

Confusion in your eyes, you glance over at him but struggle to read his expression. Whatever is on his mind is something that you haven’t seen from him before.

Sturmhond eyes you for a moment, and you shrug in response.

“I won that vessel, fair and square, last night.” He states smoothly, looking straight at Aleksander.

Sturmhond’s face softens into something teasing as he looks over at you.

“Your assistant here clearly just believes the worst of me.” With that he winks at you, and rocks back on his heels before he turns and strolls away.

Blinking a few times, you adjust the collar of your coat as you frown.

“What was that?”

“I think he likes you.”

That only confuses you even more.

“Oh.”

“Perhaps I should inform him of your engagement. Though I’m sure a pirate won’t see the Crown Prince as much competition.”

Part of you believes Aleksander is only joking, but his words have you reaching out to stop him.

“No. Don’t.”

He tilts his head aside in confusion, eyes scouring your face as he observes your concern. Glancing around, you ensure that no one is close enough to overhear you as you step closer to Aleksander and murmur,

“Sturmhond is Prince Nikolai.”

Aleksander’s frown deepens, and you step away from him.

“Is there anything else I should know?” He asks.

“A lot of his crew are Grisha.”

“Ravkan?”

“A mixture I think. But some of them might be.” At that, Aleksander seems to be pulled deep into his thoughts. “You can’t blame them for not wanting to serve the Crown.” You add softly.

“And yet, ironically they are still serving the Crown.”

“Illegitimate crown.” You add, turning around.

You have barely taken a step away from him, before Aleksander takes a hold of the back of your coat, bunching the fabric near your waist to pull you back against him. Dropping his head down he speaks lowly,

“You know who his father is. Don’t you?”

“I can’t remember his name. But if you gave me a list of the last few Fjerdan ambassadors then I think I’d be able to pick him out.”

“Well that could certainly come in handy.” He muses quietly. Turning around, you give him a small smile.

“You know me, full of handy little facts.”

Aleksander regards you for a moment, and you notice how close you are to him. His lips part, and your gaze falls down to watch his next words leave them.

“Do you like him?” He asks.

“Who?”

“Sturmhond.”

“I met him yesterday.” You remark. At the look on Aleksander’s face, you decide to give your answer more thought. “I don’t dislike him. I know we can trust him. That’s all I can say.”

»»---------------------►

There’s a creak of floorboards shifting, and the wind howls outside the small window in front of the makeshift desk that you and Aleksander share now that you’re at sea. It’s been nearly two weeks into your journey, and you’re approaching the Bone Road.

Aleksander shifts under the covers, and you glance over at him once again. Ever since the storm began, a tension had set into Aleksander’s shoulders, and tonight his sleep has been particularly restless.

You leave the candles burning on the desk, knowing that he doesn’t enjoy sleeping in total darkness, as you walk slowly over to the bed. There’s a small sound in the back of his throat, and he wakes with a start.

“Aleksander.” You whisper softly. He looks over at you with wide eyes as you settle down on top of the covers beside him. “Are you alright?”

He nods, but in that moment there’s a flash of lightning, and you see him grip the bedsheets tightly between his fingers.

“Is it the storm?” He nods again. “Can I join you?”

It seems strange, asking Aleksander if you can share the bed when the two of you have slept beside one another so many times before. But this is different.

Instead of answering, he shifts over in the bed, allowing room for you to slip under the covers beside him. A boom of thunder echoes overhead, and you can feel the reverberation of it in your chest.

Aleksander’s jaw is tense, and you can hear the strict control he has on his breathing. Your heart aches for him.

The room Sturmhond had offered Aleksander was well insulated, meaning that you were only wearing your underwear as well as one of Aleksander’s shirts. When you reach out towards him, your fingers smooth over his bare chest.

He relaxes a little underneath your touch, as you slide your palm up towards the nape of his neck. For a moment, you play with the short locks of hair that sit there, and Aleksander’s eyes flutter closed.

Once he seems calmer, you cup the back of his neck and provide a reassuring squeeze to the tense muscles there. In response, a little more of the tension leaves his spine. When another flash of lightning illuminates the room, Aleksander grasps onto your waist.

Tugging gently on his body, you encourage him to lie over you, and his arms instantly wrap around your waist. Thunder crackles and he tightens his hold on you. He buries his face into your chest, and you stroke through his hair as you whisper assurances to him.

“It’s alright Sasha.”

Once you realise what you’ve said, you go still, waiting for his response. He tilts his head up to look at you with a raised brow.

“Sasha?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I should have asked you first.” He breathes out a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” He shakes his head again, before he settles back down onto your chest.

“Baghra was the last person to call me Sasha.” He murmurs quietly. “She hasn’t done so in a very long time.”

“And you want me to?” You ask softly.

“I do.”

“Okay… Sasha.”

Fingers tangled in his hair, you can feel his smile against your skin and a warmth spreads through your chest.

»»---------------------►

Ivan comes to wake you and Aleksander early one morning. Heavy mist clings to the surface of the water, even trailing over the other end of the deck.

It’s cold, which you should be used to by now. You can’t remember the last time you stepped outside and felt warm. Rubbing your hands together, you try and encourage some warmth to remain in your body.

As another shudder runs through your body, you turn to Aleksander and grumble in a low voice.

“What was it with your grandfather and creating creatures that like the cold?”

The corner of his mouth quirks in amusement, and he steps closer, shielding you from the breeze as he remarks,

“Baghra must have been the exception to that rule.”

A small laugh falls from your lips, and some warmth returns to you at the sight of his smile.

Aside from a few murmurs of conversation, the crew are quiet. There’s an intangible spark of tension in the air. As if everyone, not just Mal, can sense that you’re close.

All of you stand still, waiting, as Mal gives a few final directions, which Sturmhond follows at his place in front of you and Aleksander on the upper deck.

Then someone cries out from up in the rigging.

“Two points of the starboard bow!”

A bright white, shimmering shape unfurls itself from within the mist. The early morning light casts a golden shine over pearlescent scales. Dark eyes stare resolutely at your ship, and a rush of fear floods through you.

You had warned Aleksander that the sea whip wouldn’t go down without a fight. The two of you had run over several ideas to capture the creature. Aleksander had decided to forgo longboats, instead you would use the size of your ship to your advantage.

Sturmhond’s crew seize their weapons. Guns and grappling hooks sparkle in the morning sunlight.

The first hook misses, splashing harmlessly into the water. The sea whip bucks it’s tail, rocking the waves. You stumble into Aleksander, and he grasps onto your arms as the deck tilts. Another hook flies over the edge of the ship, piercing into the sea whip’s hide.

It thrashes, trying to free itself, when another hook meets its mark. The deck tilts even further, and you cling tightly onto Aleksander.

“Alina.” You call out. She looks over at you, stumbling into Mal as she does. “Would your Cut be able to reach the sea whip?”

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head.

“I can’t use the Cut.”

It startles you, for a moment, when you realise that she hasn’t used the Cut yet. But she will.

“Yes, you can. Trust me, Alina.”

She backs away from you.

“No, I can’t.”

If Aleksander hadn’t been gripping on to you so tightly, you’re certain you would have fallen and cracked your head against the deck with the force of the next wave.

“It’s really not that hard.” You insist, remembering how she had summoned the Cut without even thinking, at the end of the first book.

“And you’d know all about that wouldn’t you?” She snaps.

You know what she sees of you. Arrogant otkazat’sya who thinks they understand how being a Grisha works. When in reality, it’s almost the opposite. You know, better than she does, what she’s capable of. Gritting your teeth, you remark in a low voice.

“Yes I would.”

Looking around frantically, you see the crew attempting to wrestle the sea whip into submission. It won’t go down quietly. After a violent jerk, one of the crewmen loses his footing and falls over the side.

“Man overboard!” Someone calls out.

Your mind is filled with memories of this chapter. Bloodstained water, screams and cries, the snap of bones breaking between the sea whips teeth.

“Our people are risking their lives. The least you could do is try.” You snap at Alina.

Turning away from her, you stagger towards Sturmhond who’s at the helm, gripping onto the wheel.

“Isn’t this fun?” He remarks, breathing out a laugh despite the shaking strain of his arms as he holds the ship level with the sea whip, fighting against the waves.

“I have a suggestion.” His sweat covered brow lifts in response, and you continue. “Tie the ropes to the mast, then turn hard to port. It’ll give us one more clean shot for a hook to bring it down.”

“And if it tears off our mast?”

“Then we’re screwed.”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. Then he calls out the orders to his crew, following your directions. You grip tightly onto the railing, as Sturmhond steers the ship away from the sea whip.

The creature cries out, a haunting melody that rings in your ears. You’re reminded of the stag. Of that chime that had called you to it, only this is amplified by a thousand. You see the last grappling hook fly out, burying itself into the sea whip’s side.

With a mournful cry, the sea whip slumps weakly.

“Nets!” Sturmhond cries out. “Ready the platform.”

A large board of wood is lowered down to the surface of the sea, and the crew use the hooks to steer the weakened sea whip onto the platform. A net is tossed down over the sea whip’s head, preventing it from thrashing any further.

The relief among you all is sudden, as people turn to one another in a mixture of disbelief, shock, and delight. There’s laughter, and people cling to one another. The man who had fallen overboard has a towel thrown around his shoulders as his crew mates laugh affectionately at him.

A smile blooms over your face, as you look at Aleksander.

You did it.

Your celebration is rather short lived.

“A ship, moi soverenyi.” Ivan says, gesturing to a distant shape on the horizon.

“Are they flying colours?” Aleksander asks, looking over at Sturmhond. The privateer peers through his telescope, searching over the smooth sea.

For a brief moment, you believe that it’s no one. Some passing fishermen.

“That’s Sokolov’s flag.” Sturmhond remarks, closing his telescope with a grin expression.

“Who?” You ask with a frown.

“Viktor Sokolov. He’s a Grisha pirate, claims loyalty to no country. That’s where his soldiers get their name from - nichevo’ya.”

At the sound of their name, a shiver runs through you. Nichevo’ya. That’s what the Darkling had called his shadow monsters.

“The nothings?” You translate, and Sturmhond nods.

Aleksander searches your expression intently. He knows you don’t know much Old Ravkan.

“You’ve heard of them?” He prompts.

“No.” You admit, swallowing hard as panic settles in. Of course there would be a group of vicious Grisha pirates that want to steal the sea whip from you. “We can’t outrun them in this ship.”

Aleksander nods, immediately joining in on your thinking. If you haven’t heard of these pirates, then you and Aleksander are on even ground when it comes to planning your next move.

“Even if we tried to flee, we would need to abandon the sea whip.” He reasons.

“We can’t let him take its power.”

“We can’t risk sending Alina down there. If they are Grisha, their ship will be on us in a matter of minutes.”

“What if we send David with her?” You suggest, and Aleksander nods slowly, understanding your plan.

“She can claim its power instantly. We will have to buy them quite some time though.”

Everyone around you seems a little stunned, either by your quick thinking or the way Aleksander’s thoughts flow with yours, you’re not sure. You look over at Sturmhond who nods.

“It’s daring.” He admits. “I like it.”

Then he turns to issue orders to his crew. They rush to their positions, and Aleksander begins to command your Grisha, readying them for a fight. Alina looks wary at the thought of being anywhere near the sea whip, and she doesn’t speak to you.

Just as you’re preparing for her and David to be lowered down to where the sea whip is bound, the deck tilts and you nearly fall into Aleksander.

“What’s happening?” You ask. His brows furrow darkly.

“Sokolov is a tidemaker. A powerful one.” Aleksander looks down at the water between your ship and the captured sea whip. “He’s using an undercurrent to keep us from reaching the sea whip.”

You swear in a low voice, running a hand over your hair with frustration. Smoke creeps across the water towards your ship, likely brought on by Sokolov’s squallers to impair your vision.

“Would your Cut be able to reach their ship from here?” You suggest. Aleksander shakes his head.

“A Cut that large is too dangerous to summon at this proximity, even for me.”

You’re running out of ideas at an alarming rate.

Then the soldiers climb up onto your deck.

Sturmhond’s crew respond instantly, fighting to keep control of their ship. Your own Grisha jump into the fray, and soon there’s only a small group of you on the upper deck.

“Zoya.” You call out to the nearby squaller. “If I jump, will you be able to carry me over to the other side of Sokolov’s current?”

Keeping her head low, she peers over the edge of the ship, eyeing the current swirling possessively around the sea whip. She nods.

“I think so.”

“Absolutely not.” Aleksander states firmly.

“We can’t let him get the sea whip.” You cry out in protest as the deck sways, and he shakes his head.

“Someone else.” He insists.

“Even through the smoke, they’ll see your keftas. I’m otkazat’sya, they won’t look twice at me.”

Aleksander holds your gaze for a long moment, and you know he’s running through every possible option in his mind. But it’s no use. This is your only option. You’re out of time.

“If you’re doing something, I suggest you decide now.” Zoya warns you. The current is pulling the sea whip further away from your ship, but your eyes stay on Aleksander. After another second of hesitation, he nods.

Shrugging off your jacket, you hold your knife ready in one hand and step back in order to gain a run up. Zoya holds her hands ready to summon enough wind to carry you.

You’re suddenly reminded of one of your nightmares, drowning in ice cold water before being eaten alive by the sea whip. Inhaling an unsteady breath, you give Zoya a nod.

Saints above, do not let me die today.

With that single prayer, you run towards the side of the ship, feet pushing up onto the railing as you leap out towards the open sea. Zoya’s breeze pushes your body through the air, and you land in still icy water.

The chill of the sea is freezing, and your very bones ache with the cold as you kick your feet and rise to the surface. Gasping for breath, you look around wildly, searching for the sea whip. Swimming in its direction, you realise how large it is as you get closer.

There isn’t time for you to climb onto the small platform, so you remain half submerged in the water as you reach out to the mythical sea whip.

“I’m so sorry about this.” You say, smoothing a hand over the slippery scales by the creature’s eye. It’s deep dark eyes stare intently at you, and a pang of guilt hits you.

Either you kill the sea whip yourself, ensuring that no one gets his power. Or you free him, and pray that you all survive unscathed.

Gritting your teeth, you make a decision.

As quickly as you can, you begin to saw at the ropes binding the sea whip down to the platform. The net comes away easily but the ropes require a little more work. They had been reinforced by fabrikators, but luckily the fibres wear away when you angle your steel in the right direction.

Then you choke on a gasp, and almost drop your knife as your vision swims. Warm blood drips from your nose, and you cough weakly as you try to stay conscious.

One of Sokolov’s heartrenders must be constricting your heart. Terror fills you. Then the pain eases slightly, and you can feel your pulse thrumming a little stronger than before. A glance back at your ship confirms your suspicions, Ivan is keeping your heart going.

He’s one of the strongest corporalki that you know, but the distance will soon be too much for him to reach you. Fighting down the panic, and the pain, you reach for the final rope.

Tears fill your vision, and you cry out as you give one resolute swipe at the weakened rope. It snaps. The sea whip bursts free, and you go under the waves.

The motion of the sea whip’s tail shifts the water around you, pushing you into Sokolov’s undercurrent. Thrashing violently, you struggle against the water, and your own tiring body.

Then you’re hauled up to the surface, your lungs burning as you draw in shuddering breaths, gathering your strength to fight off whoever had grabbed you.

“You’re alright.” A familiar voice assures you, holding you tight. “It’s me.”

“Aleksander!” You gasp, gripping firmly onto his soaked shirt. He must have abandoned his kefta before he had jump in.

“I have you.” He says, his voice rough with exertion as he keeps you both above water.

With Aleksander doing the majority of the work, you swim back over to your ship, and the crew help to lift the two of you back onto the deck.

Your clothes are soaked through, and Aleksander still has one hand fisted into your shirt as you both collapse onto the wooden planks of the deck. You slump onto your back, every part of you aching and cold, as you try to catch your breath.

“You are never to do anything like that ever again.” Aleksander states firmly, but there’s a wrecked quality to his voice that tugs at your heartstrings.

“I don’t plan on it.” Pulling yourself up weakly into a sitting position, you drop your forehead against his shoulder and murmur a quiet, “I’m sorry, Sasha.”

He holds onto the back of your neck with one hand, and lifts his head up to survey your ranks.

“Any casualties?”

“A few.” Sturmhond says. “Your healers are seeing to them now, there shouldn’t be anything serious.” Aleksander stands, and he extends a hand to help you up. “Sokolov’s soldiers retreated as soon as the sea whip was freed.”

Aleksander nods, and you feel too weak to celebrate your victory.

There’s a red blur at the corner of your vision, and you turn towards it, extending a hand to grasp at the sleeve of a kefta.

“Thank you, Ivan.” You say in a grateful whisper.

His eyes scour over you, soaked to the skin, blood under your nose, and eyes heavy with the exhaustion of having your heart meddled with by two warring heartrenders. He nods in response, his eyes softening minutely.

When you turn back to face him, Aleksander has his kefta back on, and aside from his wet hair, he barely looks like he had just taken a swim along the Bone Road with the sea whip. Quite unlike you.

He wraps his cloak around your body, rubbing at your arms as he presses his chest against your back. Blinking in confusion, you realise a warm breeze is drying your clothes. Zoya gives you a small nod, and you smile gratefully at her.

There’s a rushing sound of water churning violently, and you stare open mouthed as the sea whip rises above the sea, towering over Sokolov’s ship. As it’s body tilts forward, you realise what it’s about to do.

“Everybody get down!” You cry out, at the same time Sturmhond yells,

“Hit the deck!”

Aleksander grabs you, and you cling to the front of his kefta as he ducks the two of you down beside the edge of the ship. His grip is hard, holding your body close to his with one arm, whilst the other grasps onto a rope attached to the ship.

When the sea whip hits the ocean, curling the length of its body around Sokolov’s ship, you hear the roar of the resulting waves. Squeezing your eyes shut, water sprays over your head as the sea whip crushes the ship in its coils. The deck of your ship tilts, and Aleksander tightens his hold on you fiercely.

For a long moment you’re subjected to clinging desperately onto Aleksander as the deck rocks back and forth violently. The sound of wood breaking and shattering echoes through the thunder of the waves.

Then silence.

Waves sway at a normal rate, and the sea is devoid of any sign of what had just occurred. A pirate battle featuring a mythical sea dragon.

The crew and your Grisha slowly crawl out of the nooks they had safeguarded themselves into. Whilst you might all be soaked, and you’re still trembling in Aleksander’s arms, everyone seems unharmed.

Then the rushing sound returns and the sea whip rises from the waterline.

Sturmhond yells out commands, and his people scramble to retrieve their weapons.

“Wait!” You cry out, legs wobbling as you rush down the stairs and hurry over the deck to stand in front of the sea whip. Aleksander follows you closely.

“Hold your fire.” He orders, and despite the fact that they are mostly Sturmhond’s crew, they lower their guns and grappling hooks.

The sea whip doesn’t tower over your ship like he had done to Sokolov’s ship, instead he lowers his head down so that his chin rests on the edge of the deck in front of you.

Resting your forehead against the chilly skin of the sea whip’s nose, you flatten your palm against the front of his face.

“Thank you.” You say softly.

There’s quiet acceptance in his eyes, the same expression that you had seen from the stag. The amplifiers give out their power on their own terms. Giving him a nod of understanding, you turn back to Aleksander.

“Where’s Alina?”

She heads down the stairs, eyeing the sea whip cautiously, and Sturmhond hands her a knife as she nears you.

Stepping away, you allow her to approach the sea whip. A wave of dizziness seizes you, and you inhale slowly, turning away as Alina takes his life. Blood trickles over the deck, and your stomach twists.

Walking towards Aleksander, you can see the concern on his face. It’s likely you don’t look very well. Black spots fill your vision, and sound becomes distorted as you stumble forward. Fortunately, you manage to make it into his outstretched arms before you lose consciousness.

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse

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#in another life au #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone #in another life chapters

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