#but in a just to be closer to him kind of way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherrylovelycherry · 1 day

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𓂅new order. "tarte aux fraises and uh... a éclair au chocolat."

How un.fortunate

pairing. Boothill x fem!reader cw/genre. angst, misunderstood, crying, disappointment, frustration, bittersweet ed, some fluff synopsis. he heard part of the conversation with your friends, exactly a bad part. full menu

"Isn't he cute?" One of your friends, Elisa, blurted out. Who carried a small baby in his arms.

"Oh…yes he is!" You spoke, excitedly, taking his small hands in your fingers.

How you loved babies and children in general.

"Can I carry it too?" You asked this time looking at another of your friends, Laila, who was the little boy's mother.

"Sure! Just be careful with his head and neck."

"Hello little one." You spoke to the baby as you held him in your arms as Laila instructed.

Together with your friends, you had met after so many planned outings, which in one way or another ended up being canceled since one was always busy.

Recently one of them had another child. Of your small group of 4 friends, you were the only one who didn't have children until now.

Even though when you were in your student days, you and your friends said that you would be the first to have children.

How unfortunate.

"Oh…he's so fragile." You commented with a soft and cheerful smile.

"He's too cute!" Elisa commented looking at the baby.

"Yeah. And he cries so much." Laila commented in a tired tone. as she gave a soft yawn, it seemed that she was quite tired of the baby, which she had been looking after all the time.

"What else do you expect? He's little." Elisa spoke.

"Is he very noisy?" You asked, curious.

"He keeps us up all night with his crying, you have no idea." Laila responded.

"Sure it's cute at first," said your friend, Myre, "but when you have to deal with them for real… It's a whole other story."

"Are your children also a hassle to you?" You asked with a slight chuckle and curiosity.

"Nah, I love those little ones with my soul." She said, slowly sitting down in the chair at the table where the four of them were sitting. She had to be careful since she was 7 months pregnant.

Your friends, except for Myre, groaned at this.

"How can you say something like that when you're going to have more children?" Laila asked in a tired tone.

"Haha I do not know." She said, laughing, "And I didn't even want to have children."

They all laughed, commenting on one or another trick to make parenting easier. While you stayed talking to the baby with a soft voice. You rocked him in your arms calmly.

"Oh, and wouldn't it be a good idea to put our children in the same academy, just like we planned when we were younger?—" Elisa's words were cut off by a gentle nudge from Myre.

As if to try to silence her.

"Uh…sorry" Elisa's tone of voice was low and with some embarrassment.

You knew very well that in a certain way they felt sorry for you, refusing to talk about that kind of things in front of you.

You really tried not to let it affect you.

"Oh, no. It's totally fine, girls." You spoke, smiling somewhat embarrassed, keeping your gaze on the baby that you still held in your arms.

The baby began to let out soft cries and to move his little arms. You had no idea why.

"Oh, he must be hungry." Laila said, taking a small bottle of breast milk from the bag she had brought with her.

Putting some hot water in it from another thermos that she also brought.

"Here." She handed it to you.

"Are you sure you want me to do it?" You asked, looking at Laila.

She just smiled and shook her head.

You couldn't help but smile at him in response, as you brought the bottle closer to the baby's little mouth.

Then, the baby started drinking his food from the bottle you were holding.

Your friends smiled in reassurance, understanding that you were fine.

"Dear, I had a question actually…" Myre spoke slowly.

"Go ahead." You responded, curious to know what she would ask.

"What about your boyfriend?"

The question made you a little nervous. You had a small worry on your mind, a worry that you've told no one about. Your head was full of thoughts at that momen, it became a sudden silence in the table.

"Uh…well," You let out an awkward chuckle. "Recently we haven't seen each other much." That was the truth.

Lately you had seen your boyfriend less and there was a reason behind it. Boothill was not one to stay on one planet, as he was a galaxy ranger. But that didn't stop him from deciding to stay on your planet for a long time. I went and came back to be with you.

"Well, not all couples see each other every day." Elisa commented, taking a sip of her hot tea.

You were currently residing on a planet that orbited near Jarilo-VI. Or at least that's what Boothill told you.

"She's right, after all not every couple is the same." Laila commented.

They all remained silent, giving each other slight glances.

Of course it didn't go unnoticed by you.

"…We just want you to be a happy girl, sweetheart."

"Um…what's this all about?" You asked, looking at Myre, who after handing the bottle to Laila, took your hand.

"We're worried about you and your situation." She said, looking into your eyes.

"Why…?" That was all you could come up with.

"Lately you've been quite… Distracted or down." This time Laila spoke, with a worried expression.

It was true, you were sure that you had been acting distant lately, at least for the last two weeks. You didn't want to but they had noticed.

"I'll be honest, you're scaring us, sweety girl." Elisa spoke, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes with them.

"You really don't look happy, dear." Myre, after saying that, squeezed your hand tighter, as if she wanted to give you comfort.

"We care about you, you know."

The others nodded as well, you had a feeling what was going to happen, they were very obvious.

They all cared about you, you had known each other for long time after all. You knew what they were going to say.

"The truth is that we don't know if that cowboy is the best choice for you." Elisa's words made your heart feel a little heavy.

They knew almost perfectly who your boyfriend was. They knew that being more metal than human, it was impossible for you to have children.

"Dear," Laila started to speak, "You've told us time and time again that you want children of your own. And you know that he can't give you children…"

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. That was what hurt the most.

She was right, maybe too right.

How unfortunate.

Your gaze was now positioned on the baby, who was now being carried by Elisa.

How much you longed to be able to hold your own children just as you held your friend's child moments before.

You couldn't stop your eyes from filling with a thin layer of tears.

You looked down at your legs, in an attempt to not let them see your face like that.

You let out a silent sigh.

Of course, you knew it wasn't going to be possible to have a baby with Boothill. He was more made of metal and circuits than a living being.

The only way you could have your own children would be to have them with another human. It didn't matter how hard you tried, there was just no way.

Something you didn't know was that the person your friends were talking about was right around the corner from the cafe where you were.

His happiness at seeing you was suddenly turned off, as if it were a switch.

He had heard what they had been talking about.

He saw your reaction.

You didn't deny anything, nor did you say anything in response to your friends' words. In his eyes, you just lowered your head.

If he had a heart, he would have thought his heart was falling towards his now nonexistent stomach.

The beautiful bouquet of flowers that was going to belong to you was now in an alley, exactly in a garbage container.

…

You took out your key to enter your house, you were tired.

You chose to return on foot.

You inserted the key, unlocking the door lock. Entering calmly.

It was a great surprise to see Boothill there.

He could enter whenever he wanted since you had given him a spare key that you had.

It was good for you that he returned to your planet, you really needed his affection now. You were a little down because of the conversation you had with your friends.

"Hello, love." You said, smiling softly at him.

Your eyes were still a little red from the crying that your friends had to witness and comfort.

You fully entered your house and closed the door behind you, approaching your boyfriend so you can kiss him.

Your lips met briefly. You couldn't help noticing that this time it was a much colder and dry caress than usual. He even seemed a little uncomfortable.

He was expressionless, but you could still see something of disappointment hidden behind his eyes.

"Hey, are you alright?" You asked, in a low voice, stroking his cheek with your hand lovingly.

He moved away from your touch, as if it burned his face.

"How unfortunate, isn't it?" He asked as he looked at you.

How unfortunate? The hell was he talking about…?

You took a step forward in an attempt to be closer to him. But he, in response, just took a step back and away from you.

"Don't touch me with those hands."

Those words hurt like a stab in your heart.

Hands… those hands you tried to use to comfort him, caress him.

His look of disappointment was replaced by a look of frustration.

"What do you mean…?" You asked, confused, with a worried expression.

"Oh, you know…" He said, faking nonchalance.

"You can't make your greatest dream come true with me." His words sounded cold.

Your expression dropped, tears slowly filling your eyes, at that moment you remembered the conversation you had with your friends.

"You hear..?" You asked, in a low, broken voice.

You were trying to compose yourself.

Boothill just responded with a chuckle, that hurt you more.

"It's funny how you try to hide your disappointment and your frustration when you see others living the life you want, but you'll never be able to have."

It was the truth after all. A truth that no matter how much you want to ignore, it hurt you more and more.

You tried to open your mouth to speak, but just a small incoherent sound came out.

"No matter how many nights we've lived together, you'll never bear my children."

It was the cruel truth, a reality that you were aware of, but still you let yourself live that lie.

You wanted so much to have his children.

Yet he couldn't give you what you desired.

You took a deep sigh trying to calm the turmoil of emotions that were going through you.

"Boothill…" You whispered, trying to keep your voice from breaking any more than it already had.

His name came out of your lips like a mantra as you were drowning in tears.

"Stop crying." His tone of voice sounded sharper this time, which hurt you even more.

He was acting completely different than usual. He wanted to hurt you?

No, he wanted to get away.

But the pain was too great, tears began to run down your eyes.

"Maybe your friends are right."

"Maybe you should consider looking for someone else."

The tears were falling down your cheeks like a river and your sobs were getting worse.

Those words were so cold that they made your body freeze, your breath came out shaky.

"Please don't say that." You just managed to speak through sobs.

With those words, you walked towards your boyfriend in an attempt to hold him tight and kiss his entire face. To hold him close to your body. But as you were approaching, he just took a step back.

"Just admit it." He muttered in between his teeth.

That filled your head with questions. Admit what?

"Eh?…" You blurted out, giving him a confused look. With your hand you dried the tears that stained your cheeks.

"You also think the same as them."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"You're disappointed, you're frustrated… aren't you?" This time his tone of voice was much calmer, as if he was more tired.

You couldn't respond.

"Say it."

"It's not like that, I'm not—" Your words were interrupted.

Boothill laughed lightly at your denial. "Be honest."

Your brow furrowed slightly. What had he heard then to make him say that?

"You didn't say anything when they told you i wasn't good for you, that you weren't happy."

So he had heard most of the conversation.

But not exactly everything.

"You didn't say anything when they said it was better for you to look for someone else, someone human."

Again you wanted to try to speak but his words were a constant punch to your heart, your body felt heavy.

It was a cruel reality.

You knew that if you stayed with Boothill, you would never be able to have children.

But that didn't matter, it didn't matter to you. You loved him, more than anyone could ever understand.

You loved him, more than your own life.

You didn't want to lose him.

He was the person you wanted by your side for the rest of time.

"I did say something, you didn't fully hear how the conversation went. We can sit down and talk." Your voice rose and fell in pitch as you tried to appease the lump in your throat.

He didn't respond, lowering his gaze to the ground for a moment, as if he was taking the time to think about what he would do next.

"If you're not going to make the decision, I'll help you decide."

He proceed to give you the spare keys to your house.

You stayed still before that, feeling how your eyes were filling with tears again.

Wait, hold on.

"You should search for a human male, someone who can give you what you desire more than anything."

Your body had gone completely tense.

The keys were now gently placed on your palm. Your eyes couldn't process what was happening at the moment. "I'm not going to come back."

As the moment passed and his words and his action were processed in your mind, you slowly managed to raise your face to look at him.

You felt as if at any moment your heart would explode in your chest.

He was going to break up with you. He wanted to break.

Boothill was going to leave you.

"I'm sorry I couldn't fulfill your desire." He started to speak again.

You could hear the disappointment in his words.

"That's it?" You asked through your tears.

That was the last thing he was going to tell you?

Your question was ignored.

"Take care… Darlin'."

In response you didn't manage to say a single word.

You just watched him leave your house.

As you watched the door close, your legs betrayed you and you almost fell to the ground, but managed to hold on to the furniture.

It was impossible for you to contain your tears as they now fell like waves, your breathing became heavy and the sobs were now unbearable.

You had a terrible time that night, that week, that month, that year.

How unfortunate.

"Be careful. Hold on to the ice cream you might drop, dear."

You let out a soft sigh looking at the little girl.

Your little girl.

The little girl was full of energy, you always wondered where she could get so much energy.

You adored her with your life, thanks to her you were able to stop being stuck in that hole of hopelessness in which you were.

You really wonder what things would have been like if you hadn't had the opportunity to raise and care for this little girl.

Currently it has been 6 years since your relationship ended.

Every time you stop to remember what the first 2 years were like, a chill would run down your spine. You basically left yourself abandoned. You weren't living anymore, you just survived. Your dreams of having children faded over time, you decided to give up on that dream.

You could say that it had been a difficult year, with many ups and downs.

At the end of your second year, your friends tried to cheer you up. They tried to get involved with other people, but it was all in vain, in the end they were just people who wanted to take advantage or make use of your body.

So you also chose to stop that. In your mind, you still had hope that one day he would return. However, you saw it as impossible. Because he left, it's not like it was the first time they had disagreements or big misunderstandings.

Quite apart from that, he also noticed your actions, becoming more and more discouraged with the passage of time.

For the third year, one of your friends who worked in a hospital, told you about the most recent crisis she had attended to while she was on duty.

The mother of a girl who was about 1 year old had just died and there were no records of family connections or anything.

So the hospital staff tried to take care of the little girl as much as they could. Since they knew that child care centers were not the best at taking care of children.

You don't really remember how things happened. By the middle of the third year, you were trying to get custody of the girl.

Things turned out well for you, everything happened too fast.

You were more than dedicated to her, going to new parent courses, reading books, watching videos, among other things. It was like the world gave you another chance.

You were finishing ordering your own flavor of ice cream, holding a baby carriage with one of your hands. Yes, you also fought to get the adoption papers for the baby who was barely 9 months old.

"Mom! I dropped it!" Your little girl's small voice shouted, sounding worried and sad.

You finished asking, turning your head towards the scream, sighing and laughing softly. "Leave it there, honey. Come, I'll buy you another one."

She came running again, smiling that she would have another new ice cream.

"This is the last one I bought, be more careful this time." You spoke to her with a somewhat stern voice as you watched her jump with joy, extending her small hands towards the employee who was handing her her new ice cream.

"'Kay!" She let go quickly and ran again in the opposite direction from where you were.

You shook your head as you went back to paying for the ice cream.

The little girl left the games, moving a little away from the initial place where she was. She was a little distracted, walking while happily eating her ice cream.

In one of those, she turned her gaze, opening her small eyes in surprise, now running again in that direction.

He approached a tall man, who seemed to be in his own world at that moment.

With all the daring in the world, the little girl spoke. "You look like my daddy!"

The girl's voice caught the man's attention, looking at her with complete curiosity. "Um…" He looked up, looking around, looking for his parents.

When he didn't find anything, he got a little worried. "Where are your parents?"

The little girl was more than amazed analyzing the man. "My mommy is over there." She said, pointing in the direction she had come from.

Meanwhile, when you finished paying for the ice cream, you looked for your daughter.

Not seeing her nearby, you thought the worst, adrenaline rising through your veins little by little. You started looking for her while shouting her name out loud and asking people near the playground if they had seen her.

You were so scared that your hands were shaking, you had left your freshly bought ice cream on the store counter.

Approximately 5 or 6 minutes passed until in the distance you saw a Little girl running towards you.

A strong sense of relief filled you.

By the time she finished running, coming to stand in front of you, the first thing you did was to bend down and hug her.

“Clementine! You scared me, honey.”

The little girl slipped her arms around you, reciprocating the hug. Then, as if remembering something, she pulled away as she turned her head back.

“Look mommy, that man looks just like daddy.” She spoke, excitedly.

You looked at her in confusion, picking yourself up off the floor, grabbing the baby carriage with one hand again. You looked up, and saw who your daughter meant.

You felt as if all the air in your lungs had disappeared. Your eyes could no longer open.

Your heart was now beating painfully hard in your chest.

Why is…? How…? Is it…? Your mind was a complete chaos of thoughts, all of them racing through your mind and making it feel like it would explode. Your head feels light and you feel dizzy.

You were so shocked that you couldn't even react, not blinking again or being able to move an inch.

You couldn't take your eyes off him. He was there, standing in the distance, looking back at you.

His white hair now tied in a low ponytail. His gaze, piercing and intense, remained the same, just like your memory.

He felt so many things at once. Even how fate came to work at the perfect time for you to name your little girl that name. The same way he named his daughter.

A mixture of surprise and disbelief had taken hold of him, but his body betrayed him.

His body, without even processing in his mind what he was doing, began to approach slowly.

You seemed as if you were frozen in time, he watched you as if no time had passed. Your appearance was almost identical to how he remembered you 6 years ago. The only thing was your hair, which was now short, almost to your shoulders.

"Lil' lady."

Boothill's voice sounded in the small space, watching the young girl turn her gaze towards him.

He held out his hand in front of him, letting the little girl take his fingers. “I'm Boothill, dear. May I know what's your name?”

He introduced himself to her, since moments before he had not had the opportunity to do so.

She looked at him intrigued, squeezing the fingers that held her as she raised her face to speak.

"I'm Clementine!" She replied excitedly, raising her shoulders in an excited gesture.

Your daughter, turned her little head towards you, still holding Boothill's metal hand. "Mommy, he even has a name like daddy!"

No matter how much you tried to formulate words, nothing came out of your mouth.

The child's innocence was endearing.

He just laughed softly, a warm, somewhat nostalgic smile forming on his face. “Yeah, we got the same name.”

The fact that there was a little girl right there who was calling him "daddy" and he had no idea what was going on was a complicated situation. But, he also couldn't help but find it so cute and lovely that he couldn't stop smiling even if he wanted to.

He turned his gaze to you, taking a few seconds before speaking.

"Can we talk?" His tone had a hint of imploration.

You nodded your head weakly in response.

As you did so, you heard your daughter speak again, this time in a more shy and embarrassed manner.

"Dadd— Mr. Boothill!"

"Yes, darlin'?" He tilted his head to the side, focusing his gaze on the girl in front of him again.

"Can you hold me?"

"Clementine!" You reproached her for her question, she didn't even know Boothill well and she was already being open with him. Besides, you didn't want him to get upset about it.

He was a little surprised by such a bold and direct request, but he couldn't say no, of course.

"Hah, sure, why not?"

He had to kneel down to take her gently in his arms.

Seeing your daughter in his arms was one of the most surreal scenes you had ever experienced.

Once he picked her up, she put her arms around his neck, feeling a little safe and comfortable being held in his arms. He gave you a warm smile to reassure you so as not to make you more uneasy than you already seemed.

Although that gesture of his made you even more uneasy. You avoided his gaze, looking at your baby, who was still sleeping peacefully in the stroller.

As you started walking towards your house, you could hear how people nearby whispered as they pointed at the scene.

"He's so tall!" "What a cute girl!" "It looks like it's his dad…"

You bit your tongue lightly, trying to ignore all the sounds.

Looking at his expression, you could tell that he was confused, maybe even a little overwhelmed. The way his eyebrows knitted together and there was a slight frown on his face.

He had that same nervous look on his face as before. He was as bad at hiding his emotions as you.

You remained silent throughout the small stroll of approximately 10 minutes. You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn't dare look at him. There was no doubt that a tense aura surrounded you.

You arrived at the front of your somewhat large house. It wasn't the same one you had 6 years ago, you moved because you needed more space for your children.

You unlocked the door, and let him in, he still had Clementine in his arms as the girl had her face hidden in his neck since she had fallen asleep.

Once the door was closed, you looked at her for a moment, a soft tender look filled your features. After you finished observing her, you turned your gaze towards him.

The room had a warm and cozy atmosphere, with a pleasant temperature that made it easier to breathe.

Both you and Boothill stayed quiet for a few seconds before you spoke again.

“Can you lay her down on the couch?”

You told him as you squared your other baby's stroller. Taking him out of this and carefully taking him to his room, so that he could continue sleeping.

He obeyed your request, carefully laying her down. He took a few seconds to take a good look at the child's face.

He noticed how her small chest rose and fell steadily on the surface of the couch’s pillows, letting out small and soft sighs in the process.

By the time you returned to the living room, he was sitting on the couch, frowning a little and deep in thought.

You let out a quiet sigh, trying to mentally prepare yourself for what was coming.

You also sat on the couch, only on one that was almost in front of him.

Seeing you close to him left him breathless.

Now he was able to see you much more closely.

The same bright and unique eyes, the same small and soft lips.

The expression on your face was a mix of nervousness and discomfort.

He remained silent for a couple of seconds, still trying to process everything.

He parted his lips, finally starting to speak.

"You managed—"

"Sorry for—"

You and him literally spoke at the same time.

You immediately became silent for a moment, feeling a little nervous and embarrassed.

A small, almost unintentional chuckle escaped his lips. Despite everything, the situation was somewhat funny and entertaining.

“You go first.”

He spoke in a gentle, almost sweet voice. His gaze remained focused on yours, paying attention to your expression.

You could feel your mouth going dry, the words not wanting to come out of your throat.

You fidgeted a little, feeling somewhat guilty about what you wanted to say.

"Ah, I'm sorry…" A small gasp escaped your lips as you tried to find the right way to say it. "…for the fact that my daughter said you looked like and had the same name as her dad."

You wondered where the security had gone and the many words you had thought and even rehearsed saying to him the first time you saw him again.

“Oh, nah, that's alright."

He chuckled again, sounding somewhat calm and even amused.

Your nervousness only grew as you felt embarrassed. You thought maybe he would get mad or upset.

The room was silent again.

It went like this for a few minutes until he spoke.

"You managed to have children." He said, with some nostalgia.

"Yeah…I managed."

Your voice came out shakier than you originally planned.

You didn't want him to know how nervous you were, you didn't want him to know that your heart was racing a thousand beats a minute and that you were thinking over and over again about so many scenarios, most of them bad.

He seemed to notice your nervousness, even though you tried to hide it.

He gave a reassuring smile before continuing to speak.

"It…surprises and makes me quite happy." He admitted with sincerity.

You only chose to smile at him in response in a somewhat shy manner.

"By the way, your husband won't be upset that I'm here?" he asked.

“Upset? That's an interesting choice of word.”

A slightly sad expression appeared on your face. Your lips curved downward and your eyebrows frowned.

He had misunderstood you.

You didn't know if you should clarify his comment, if you should explain to him or if you should keep quiet.

You sighed, deciding to speak and be honest with the cowboy.

“Boothill…I don't have a husband…”

The cowboy's eyes widened at the sound of the words coming out of your mouth.

He couldn't tell if you were just kidding or if you were saying it seriously. He was really confused.

"Did you divorce?" he asked.

You shook your head. You lowered your gaze, staring at your fingers on your hands that were clasped together.

“That…” You hesitated for a few moments, searching for the right words. “That implies having been married in the first place. I was never married."

You spoke as you raised your head again, looking at him with a small smile.

"…I'm a single mom, Boothill.”

The cowboy was surprised at the news. He expected many possibilities, but he certainly hadn't thought of this one.

After letting this information sink in, he looked at you with a confused expression.

"But your daughter said I looked like her father—"

Despite all the clues you gave him to understand the situation, he still didn't reach the true conclusion.

That gave you some humor, you assumed he would be nervous.

You let out a small laugh, looking away from him for a moment.

"I adopted my two children." You said once you stopped laughing, looking at your daughter, who was still sleeping peacefully on the couch next to you.

"And…maybe I made the mistake of telling Clementine about you."

He was silent for a few moments as he continued to process the information you had just given him.

Oh.

The expression in his eyes changed from one of confusion to one of surprise.

His eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly in shock as he seemed unable to form any words.

He couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt and guilt at all the conclusions that passed through his mind.

“Wait…”

A few uncomfortable seconds passed before he continued. "Why do you say that?"

"Uhm…" You also took care to organize your words, so that they were direct.

And, before you could answer him, your baby, who was sleeping in his room, started crying. Probably because it was time for him to eat.

You quickly got up from the couch, smiling apologetically at him as you left the living room to enter your other son's room.

He watched as you ran into the room.

The cowboy was so distracted with the news you had told him before leaving that he couldn’t help but hear the whole exchange that was going on in the room next door.

Your voice was low and gentle, almost singing to soothe the baby’s cries.

It was like a rollercoaster of emotions.

He leaned back against the backrest of the couch, covering his face with his free hand.

He had to digest all that had happened.

Not only did you manage to have children, but you never married and on top of that you got custody of two children that you did not give birth to.

After a few minutes, you were able to finish feeding your little baby.

The crying had stopped, leaving him in a calm state.

You were able to leave the baby's room once again. Only this time with your son in your arms since he didn't want to sleep again.

As soon as you reentered the room and saw the cowboy’s position, you laughed internally, letting out a soft sigh.

You sat on the couch, but this time next to him. Placing the baby in your legs.

"Sorry for the delay."

You stayed quiet for a while, watching as your son grabbed your fingers and played with them.

"When she was younger she found a photo of both of us. And well…I had to tell her about the relationship we had." You sounded a little embarrassed, however you were no longer nervous, on the contrary, you were calm.

He dropped his hand from his face and turned to look at you, but you continued to look down at your baby.

He listened to your words for a few seconds, now putting his hand on his chin, pondering the new information you had given him.

"And she thought I was…?"

He wasn’t quite sure how to say it without being too frank, but you had a small smile on your lips, guessing what his words would be.

You nodded your head, looking up at his face and watching his expression change.

His initial surprise soon turned into something else.

Your little girl believed and thought that a cowboy like him was her father.

How cute.

You still remember when you had to tell him about your past relationship. Your daughter was barely 2 years old when she found letters and a photo. Specifically from you and Boothill.

Before her gaze full of curiosity and many questions she asked you, you were transparent with her and told her about what your relationship with him was like.

That afternoon, she began referring to him as her dad.

You, who couldn't imagine that in perhaps other circumstances you could have considered starting a family with him, you let him call him that.

Telling him more things about him, that he didn't always stop on your planet, etc.

You allowed yourself to remember him that way, since over time you managed to stick to his words; "I'm not going to come back."

The room fell silent. Your gaze focused on the baby in your legs, as he held onto your fingers, his gaze locked on Boothill.

"I assumed you would never come back so I let Clementine continue calling you that." Your voice sounded somewhat bitter as you spoke.

He remained silent for a few moments before a small laugh escaped his mouth.

"That explains why she said I looked like her dad." His own words had made it all make sense to him at that moment.

"Yeah…"

You both remained in front of the other in an awkward silence, you didn't really know how to continue the conversation.

Your daughter's words kept replaying in your mind.

“You look like my daddy! “ She said it was as if no time had passed. In your head you couldn't help but think that it felt like 6 years ago, it felt like the first time you met him…

You were so immersed in your thoughts that you felt a shiver run down your spine.

His eyes, watching you so intensely, felt like they were burning you from within.

“Why didn't you get a partner?…” he dared to ask, in a tone of voice you couldn't identify this time.

You didn't expect that question.

"Uh…"

It was the only thing you could articulate, since once again you were at a loss for words.

You avoided his gaze a bit, looking at a random spot on the floor. You didn't know how to answer that, or rather… you didn't know if you wanted to answer.

When you didn't answer, Boothill thought you didn't want to talk to him. He understood he was probably overstepping a line.

"It's okay, you don't have to—"

But he was interrupted by your voice, after finally finding the words that were lost inside your mind.

“Because I was waiting for you." Your voice came out slow. Fragile as a whisper.

You had been waiting for it. Past time.

Again you avoided looking directly at him but you could practically feel his stunned gaze on you.

He hadn't expected that answer. Instead he had expected many excuses.

'I'm not interested in a relationship.' 'I focus on my children and myself.' 'I never found the right person.'

Anything, anything. But not that.

She waited for me…? He thought.

He continued to analyze you with a stunned expression, seeing the state you were in, and then a pang of regret hit him.

He wanted to say many things. He wanted to apologize.

But his own words felt caught in his throat. His mouth parted open a little, but he couldn't say anything. His mind went totally blank.

Faced with his other lack of speech, you chose to go straight to the point this time.

"Why did you come back?" Bitterness and nostalgia.

"…What do you want of me?" Frustration and sorrow.

Those were your emotions that predominated in you at that moment.

What were you looking for? Did he want to leave you in ruins again? You didn't want to feel vulnerable again. Even though now you're feeling that way again.

Those words hit him like a punch in the face.

The frustration and sadness in your voice only made him feel worse about himself, his guilt increased as every word left your mouth.

He couldn't find the words he wanted to say. His mind was a mess, and every time he tried to start speaking. Only some incoherent sounds came out of his mouth. He tried to speak, but his words died in his throat.

His eyes watched you desperately, not knowing what to say. He felt how in those moments he had become a total idiot. A completely lost man.

"I wanted to see if you were okay." His voice also sounded like a whisper, calmly.

Your words sounded almost like reproaches, which they truly were.

There were so many things you wanted to tell him, so many questions that you wanted answered but you were holding back. You just couldn't find the words as well.

"I…" He started again, with difficulty.

"I never forgot about you."

At his words, you couldn't help but frown.

"Forget…?"

You were now even more frustrated. Frustrated with him, and even more frustrated with yourself for still feeling this way about him.

"It is unfair." you said, your eyes now filling with tears, you were holding back the urge to let your feelings out.

"After being gone for 6 damn years, you come back and tell me that?…" You refused to look at him, because if you did, everything you had been ignoring, your feelings and sorrows, were coming to the surface.

"It's too unfair…" You felt your vision now blurry and the salty taste of your tears on your lips, which simply came out without delay.

Your baby, who had stopped seeing Boothill, was looking at you, as if sensing your discomfort, grabbing your fingers with his small hands, bringing them to his small face.

The cowboy was beginning to understand your frustration, he was frustrated himself, he felt guilty that after so much time he was back in your life, and that you had to cry because of him.

He could say that you looked more vulnerable than he remembered, with your body shaking as you cried and your voice breaking and filling with frustration, despair and sadness.

You couldn't stop the tears from coming out like a waterfall.

You felt a lump in your throat as you tried to keep yourself from sobbing as much.

Each time you inhaled to take a breath, your exhale became a small broken sob.

You never thought that the reunion would be like this. When you dreamed of his return, it was always a happy dream, a warm and emotional reunion.

But it wasn't, it was the opposite.

The last time he saw you, you were crying, and now that he saw you again, you were crying again.

He brought his hand to you, trying to wipe the tears that were now freely falling from your eyes.

His touch alone sent a small shiver through your body.

You moved backwards away from the touch, shaking your head as if telling him not to do that.

His touch brought you too many memories that you'd tried to bury for a long time.

It made you miss him even more, miss the good times you had when it was just the two of you.

That simple thought caused another sob that escaped from your lips. The tears continued uninterruptedly.

"Please no."

He wanted to hold you, embrace you tightly, wipe away your tears and tell you that he wouldn't leave you again, never again.

But just a minute ago you had tried to keep away from his touch, so the only thing he could do at the moment was to keep his hands to himself.

Seeing you in this state, crying bitterly and being speechless and motionless, made him not want to move from his place. As much as he wanted desperately to hold you, he just stayed there, watching.

"Darlin', I-" He spoke, being totally interrupted by your daughter, who had just woken up.

His words echoed within you, calling you darlin'…

"Mommy? Why are you crying?"

Her small voice cut through the tense, silent atmosphere of the room. Like an oasis in the middle of the desert.

You were surprised, since you hadn't even realized that your baby had woken up, probably because of your small cries.

You turned your head quickly, looking at her as she rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up properly.

You wanted to speak, but all the words seemed to have escaped your brain. The only thing that came out of your mouth was a strangled sigh, trying to calm yourself as you wiped away the tears that continued to fall.

Until you finally managed to answer her, "I'm fine love, don't worry.", with a small, forced smile. Trying to convince her that you were fine, even though your face was red and tearful.

With one hand free, you managed to run your hand over your face, wiping away the traces of tears.

Your little girl's face was troubled as she looked at you.

You let out a sigh, asking her to come closer.

She did and you brushed a small unruly strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Honey, can you take your little brother to your room with you?” your voice to her was always sweet and soft.

“'kay, mommy.”

Despite your still teary eyes, you laughed softly at your daughter's obedience. “What a good girl.” You said in a whisper.

Just as you said, she carefully picked up the baby in your arms and walked with slow steps to her room.

Once she disappeared after closing the door to her room, you covered your mouth with your hand, in an attempt to stop the sobs that arose.

You felt his gaze on you at all times, which made your eyes sting even more. Maybe you should have refused his proposal to talk.

“Please.” At first his voice faltered a bit, being more of a whisper. Almost afraid of being expelled from his mouth.

Suddenly you felt the couch move quickly. By the time you realized it, he was already holding your face.

The metal of his hands made the heat in your cheeks from crying cool down.

With an undaunted look, he spoke again, “Please…”

Oh, if he had a way to cry, he'd be doing it right now.

“…give me 6 more years.” Even though he couldn't feel the warmth emanating from your cheeks, its softness that he only felt when your face and his face collided. He wanted you to feel his touch, soft and caring, like a piece of porcelain.

You stood still, not struggling to release his grip, your eyes focused on his.

He knew he didn't even deserve to make a request, but he wanted to try anyway.

“Give me those years you lost to try to make up for.” Just by looking at him, you could sense that he himself was two words, “please” and “sorry”.

You were terrified by his proposal, you were afraid that a similar situation would happen again. Your brain did its best to reason, while your heart gave itself totally to him, to accept his proposal.

Your mouth opened slightly, looking for words to come out, but nothing came out. Not even sobs. The only ones that came out were tears.

He didn't stop talking, he was letting the feeling that was eating him up inside take over him. “And… if in that time I don't make up for how bad you felt, I'll stop trying.”

He felt like a dog with its tail between its legs. Begging, but in a way more shameful. He was putting his pride aside by giving you this proposal.

And yes, he himself believed that only 6 years was not enough time to be able to ask for forgiveness in appropriate ways.

Your shoulders moved involuntarily and you finally started sobbing again. Even though you wanted to yell at him like you had done in the past on some occasion, you were too overwhelmed to even do that right now.

His words affected you more than you expected.

As much as you struggled to hold on to reasons, your heart longed for his presence every day for the last 6 years.

All the suffering you felt, the tears you shed, and the times you wondered what your relationship was worth to him.

It was painful. Thinking of all those things made your chest ache.

Even in such a delicate conversation, he did not release your face, still holding it tightly in his hands.

He gently wiped away your tears with his thumb for a few minutes, as if he were cleaning a mirror, which was useless and ridiculous, but he didn't care. He hoped to at least make you comfortable. He could tell how hurt you were from the tears, and it shattered his heart into pieces, leaving no trace behind.

He was scared. He was scared that you didn't want him again like before. And he understood you if you didn't.

“Let me try, please.”

You could see a deep regret in his eyes as he caressed your cheeks.

Those feelings.

You closed your eyes tightly, trying to avoid seeing that look on him.

You couldn't think, not when he was touching you that way.

His touch, a feeling that you thought you would feel no more.

You felt your heart contract at his words, his proposal echoed in your mind, repeating itself continuously.

Despite the fact that you didn't give him a direct answer, you made him close his mouth, pressing your body against his.

You really longed for it for so long.

You still weren't entirely sure if his proposal would work, but it was at least worth letting him try. Who knows how things would turn out this time.

He didn't expect your reaction, but when your body was pushed against his, his chest felt so full. He reciprocated quickly, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

He felt like he had you all to himself again. It filled him in a way he couldn't describe.

He closed his eyes gently, burying his face in your neck. The scent of you still hadn't changed, it still felt the same.

He let out a shaky breath, his arms not loosening their grip on you.

Now it only depended on time for things to get better. Time and him.

Maybe he could even really become the father of your little ones. Who knows.

How unfortunate he felt.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#honkai star rail boothill #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai sr #boothill x reader #boothill #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x you #boothill x y/n #angst #hsr angst #hsr x you #fem reader #𐙚nanaswrites𓂅

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feeder86 · 2 days

Text

Blame Game

Aiden raced down the stairs the moment he heard Katy’s car pulling up on the driveway. Now that she was living so far away, he hadn’t seen her since his high school graduation at the start of the summer. But as much as he loved his sister, there was one thing he hoped for more than anything else: that she had brought her sexy boyfriend Gaz with her.

Squeals of delight sounded from Aiden’s mother as she opened the door and embraced the daughter who ran into her arms. Aiden could already tell that his hopes had been realised as he spotted his father standing beside her, his hands on his hips, staring defensively over her shoulder at the boyfriend who must have been trotting along behind.

Racing towards him, Katy wrapped Aiden in a big hug, telling him how excited she was that he was off to college that weekend, and that they simply had to come down and see him before he left. Adien smiled, but watched keenly towards the threshold of the door as the shadow of an unseen man stepped ever closer towards it. Then, darkening the hallway as his giant frame filled the doorway, Gaz stepped into view. The sight of him made Liam’s breath catch in his chest. The guy was even fatter than he had been the last time he’d seen him!

“Congratulations on getting into our old college,” Gaz smiled, heading over to Aiden and shaking his hand. The heat emanating from his giant, sweaty palms was unreal. The man was an enormous furnace, fuelled by an obvious abundance of excess calories. His kind eyes smiled behind even puffier cheeks, and Aiden noted with interest just how swollen with fat the man’s neck had now become. “I know you’ll have just as much fun there as we did,” he nodded towards Katy.

“Thanks,” Aiden mumbled, trying to suppress his immediate arousal. Behind Gaz’s back, he could see his father shaking his head in disapproval, obviously noticing, just like the rest of them, how much heavier Gaz was looking after the summer.

Katy took her large boyfriend’s hand and led him down towards the kitchen, just as she had the first time she had brought him home during her first summer from college. Back then, they’d all thought how well Katy had done for herself, bagging such an athlete on a football scholarship. Gaz had been tall and broad, muscular and handsome. Their father had taken to him right away, even hosting a large barbecue for all the neighbors before he left. Finally, he had another real man around the house to discuss all the things he loved: cars, beer and football; topics that both Katy and Aiden always had very little interest in. It was only a year or so after that when his opinion started to change. Gaz’s athletic frame had bloated up by the following summer as he stacked on weight to play a different position on the field. Aiden remembered the playful jibes his father made about Gaz’s rounded stomach, assuming, just like the rest of them, that it was merely a temporary issue whilst Gaz trained himself up. However, as the holidays came around, Gaz returned only looking fatter again. By the spring, he’d been dropped from football altogether, settling into a cozy, lazy lifestyle that Aiden’s father just could not tolerate from a man who claimed to love his daughter so much.

It had been a whole year since the pair of them graduated now. Katy had always been a high-flyer and easily strolled into a high paying position at a law firm in the city. They rented a nice place by the river and Gaz had found himself a quiet little job in a retro video game store not too far away; a job that their father described as having ‘no prospects whatsoever.’

As Aiden walked behind them on the way to the kitchen, he could see exactly why his dad was silently fuming. Gaz had never looked wider. Despite his great height, his once muscular glutes had swollen like giant balls of beautiful blubber. His hips had pushed outwards and his thick, lard-filled thighs were even starting to make him walk a little differently. Gaz’s t-shirt was loose, but clung unflatteringly to his great love handles, creasing into the delicious folds of fat on his back. His once great, muscular shoulders were now coated with blubber, swelling under his armpits and bloating the tops of his arms. Even the back of his head was compromised by a large fat roll that could be easily seen with his short, well groomed haircut. What he weighed these days, Aiden could only imagine. Judging by how fat he was looking today, how tall and built he had been in the past, he had to be heading towards 450lbs, easily.

Katy was a talker. She always had been. Over dinner, she didn’t take a breath as she explained everything that she had been up to in work and their life in the city. Aiden could tell that their father wasn’t really listening and, if he was honest, neither was he. They were both transfixed by watching Gaz loading up his plate again and again; his greedy little eyes surveying what was still on offer as he poured the gravy all over his second, third and fourth helping.

“And what about you, Gaz?” their father asked next. “Any update on getting a better job?”

Gaz nodded and swallowed everything in his mouth, keeping them all waiting. “Yes. The video game store owner lets me open up by myself in the morning now,” he smiled. “I’ve got my own set of keys and everything,” he beamed.

Their mother smiled half-heartedly back.

“But you’ve not found anything better paid?” their dad pressed on. “After all those years in college. It would be a shame to waste it working in a video game store, wouldn't it.”

Gaz shrugged. “I don’t need to worry about that. Katy earns more than enough money for the both of us,” he explained, reaching out to load more potatoes on his plate despite the fact that everyone else had long since finished eating.

Aiden braced himself for his father to bite. Gaz’s complacency and willingness to sit back and let Katy run around after him made him more angry than pretty much anything else. But, the man resisted; contenting himself with a look of frustration towards his wife instead.

“Actually…” Katy smiled next. “We’ve got some big news!” She tapped Gaz on his shoulder for him to stop eating for a second. Then she peered around at them all, enjoying the anticipation. “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!”

Obligingly, their mother rose to her feet and squeaked in delight. Aiden followed and shook Gaz’s hand before reaching in for a hug with his sister. Only their father remained sitting, as if struggling to take the news in. Luckily, the engaged couple had merely assumed that he was simply overwhelmed as they joked and teased him about having to walk Katy up the aisle and make a speech when the time came. Aiden had never seen his father so completely lost for words.

“What the hell is Katy playing at?” their dad grumbled an hour later, looking across the lounge at the fat lump who was soon to become his son-in-law. As usually happened when Gaz came over, he’d insisted on putting the sports on TV and then drifted off to sleep as his body digested the incredible amount of food he had just gorged himself on. “Why is she saddling herself with a liability like this?”

“Shh!” Katy will hear you, his wife whispered.

“Well, honestly. Someone needs to tell her. Look at the belly on him! Twenty three years old and look at it! He can’t drive, has no career prospects and is just content to slob about like this. And after all the opportunities he’s had. He should be ashamed of himself!”

“Katy loves him and that’s all that matters,” their mother hissed at him. “Isn’t that right, Aiden?” she asked, knowing that she could always rely on her son to back her up when their father was in this mood.

“Come on, dad! It’s not the end of the world. You used to really like Gaz. You even preferred him to me at one point!” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Tell me one man who would be happy for his daughter to marry THAT!” he pointed rudely at the bloated and squishy former athlete.

“Aw! Is he asleep again?” Katy cooed as she returned from the bathroom seconds later. “He does this at home, He eats his dinner and then… straight to sleep on the couch!” she chuckled admiring the large, lard-filled man who was filling her parents’ lounge. “He must feel very relaxed here,” she smiled at her father.

“Katy, if you’ve got a second, would you be able to help me check I’ve got everything I need for college?” Aiden asked his sister, keen to get her out of the lounge in case their father began to speak his mind. “It’s all upstairs in my room.”

Katy obliged and followed him upstairs, taking a peek in all the rooms she used to know so well and noticing the many subtle changes since she had moved out. “So, tell me…” she smirked, “...how pissed is dad about us getting engaged?”

“Pretty fucking pissed!” Aiden smirked back.

At this, Katy simply threw her head back and laughed. “If he thinks he’s annoyed about it, he should have a word with Gaz’s parents. They’re absolutely livid!” she grinned.

“Why would they not be happy?” Aiden asked in surprise. His sister was the perfect catch: smart, outgoing, attractive; highly successful.

“Oh, come on!” Katy sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “You’re old enough to realise that Gaz’s weight gain hasn’t exactly been by accident.” She reached out and tapped her younger brother on his head, as if listening for an echo in the void where his brain should have been. “Wake up and start paying more attention! Are you sure you’re the one who got all those amazing grades?” she joked.

“You encouraged him?” Aiden asked innocently.

“To put it mildly!” Katy nodded. “His mom hates me with a passion. She says her boy was heading for a professional football career before I came along.”

“And was he?” Aiden asked. He’d been somewhat younger back then and only mildly interested in his sister’s lovelife.

“I guess she’ll never know,” Katy chuckled wickedly, with the same ruthlessness which had seen her promoted twice since starting at her new firm last year. “Oh, don’t give me that look!” she remarked to her brother. “Gaz loves it! He’s a horny little pig. You don’t need to worry about him,” she stated dismissively. “Besides, I’ve seen the way your tongue falls out every time you see him. You love it just as much as I do.”

Aiden felt his face flushing with embarrassment.

“You’re lucky to have me. Most big sisters would be so annoyed if their little brother had a crush on their fiance,” she teased him. “I’m just proud you’ve got good taste.”

Aiden knew there was no point in trying to deny anything. His sister had always been a step ahead of him in all walks of life. “Does Gaz know too?” he asked, hoping more than anything else that his sister would spare him further embarrassment.

“Of course he does!” Katy laughed. “You weren’t exactly subtle at the pool party last summer.”

Just as any big sister would, Katy enjoyed seeing her little brother squirm for a few moments, rubbing his face into his hands and wanting the ground to swallow him up.

“It’s okay,” she finally relented. “Gaz loves the attention you give him. I know he was eating especially well at dinner for your benefit, as well as mine. He pushed so hard he’s now missing the game he’s been talking about all week, trying to sleep it off. Serves him right, really!”

Aiden couldn’t deny that he had long suspected his sister of getting some sort of kick out of watching Gaz get so fat. However, the extent to which they were both finding pleasure from it all had genuinely shocked him. “But, how did you guys find each other?” he asked, wondering just how his sister had dropped so lucky.

“I know exactly why you’re asking,” Katy laughed, nodding with pride. “Don’t worry, little bro. You’re prettier than most girls, and college is crawling with boys just waiting to pile on the pounds! Either by accident, or with a little push,” she winked, before looking around at the piles of stuff, all packed and ready for college. “You’re about to have the time of your life!”

A couple of weeks later, Aiden was getting well used to his new life in the dorms. He had a room all to himself and a good group of friends around him; new study buddies, people to go on nights out with, as well as quieter friends to go on walks with. His sister had been right, his pretty face was definitely getting him noticed. Unlike the highly competitive, defensive and hostile relationships of high school, the college campus felt like a breath of fresh air.

“Truth, or Dare?” demanded Jackson, the guy in the room opposite his, as the bottle spun and pointed directly at Aiden, requiring him to take another shot of tequila.

The crowd of people crammed into Aiden’s room gave a low rumble of interest. “Truth,” Aiden smiled, knowing that the truths shared had been the most interesting that evening.

Jackson grinned and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, having appointed himself leader of this game. “Okay then!” he smirked. “Tell us, who is your biggest crush!”

The others cheered with interest and looked over at Aiden. Absolutely everyone had been hooking up in the last week. Sex mania had taken over the campus.

Aiden looked up at Jackson, the one who had asked the question, knowing exactly why he had selected that line of enquiry. Jackson, the resident football hunk on this dorm, had practically every girl swooning after him; the guy’s head was swelling by the day with all the women who were throwing themselves at him. And, ever since he had discovered that Aiden was gay, Jackson seemed determined to add the pretty boy to his list of admirers; shamelessly flirting with him, despite having no real interest whatsoever.

“Actually,” Aiden nodded. “That’s something I’ve never told anyone before,” he teased, drawing the crowd in and entertaining them. “And if I tell you all, it could get me in A LOT of trouble!”

“Is he straight?” asked one of them excitedly.

Aiden nodded. “I’m so bad. There’s no way I should be telling any of you this!” he continued to taunt them, enjoying the attention.

“Who is it?” a girl finally squeaked in drunken delight.

Aiden looked around one last time, then up to Jackson himself, right before he crushed the guy’s ego trip. “My sister’s finance,” he finally announced. “She’d never forgive me if she knew,” he lied, “but I am so fucking hot for that guy!”

The crowd delighted in the gossip and chuckled at the awkward situation Aiden found himself in. Then the bottle moved on and the drinks flowed once more.

“We’ll have to come and visit you one weekend,” Katy smiled, as she relaxed with her brother that Thanksgiving. “Gaz and I would love to revisit some of the old places we used to go when we first got together,” she nodded over to her giant fiance, engrossed in the football match on the TV.

“Sure, I’d love to have you both over,” Aiden nodded, feeling excited by the idea.

“How’re things going with your love life?” Katy asked next, taking advantage of the fact that their parents were out of the room. “Are you having fun tasting the giant buffet of fatties the campus has to offer?”

Aiden looked to Gaz in a panic, until he realised that the guy wasn’t listening in on their conversation at all. He was well used to his sister asking quite personal questions, but he wasn’t sure he wanted Gaz to overhear it as well. “A couple,” he shrugged, lowering his voice just in case. “I don’t know… it’s not quite as exciting as I thought it would be. Most of the guys I show an interest in seem to hate their bodies. It’s such a turn off.”

Katy nodded in full agreement. “I’ve been there!” she laughed. “That’s why I hooked up with that kinky little bastard instead,” she nodded over to Gaz, mindlessly stuffing chips into his mouth as he watched the action.

“Grow your own?” Aiden joked.

“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Katy laughed back. “I mean, watch this,” she smirked, grabbing a small pastry from the tray in the middle of the table and throwing it towards Gaz; hitting him on his giant stomach.

Gaz looked at her with interest, finally taking his eyes off the screen. He noticed the pastry and popped it straight into his mouth.

“Who’s a good pig?” Katy teased him.

Gaz grinned, briefly looking at Aiden and recognising him as being one of their gang: the select few who had been informed of the true nature of his and Katy’s kinky relationship. He lifted his shirt a little and grabbed a wedge of his fat, giving it a good jiggle whilst looking Katy straight in the eye. Then he raised his head and oinked quietly: once, twice; checking that the parents were not around to hear.

Katy laughed and smiled proudly, but to Aiden it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. “How do I make a guy do that for me?” he asked his sister.

Aiden was more desperate to learn than ever before.

Katy called from the car as she was parking up on the campus a couple of weeks after the holidays. Aiden went down to meet them just as Gaz was sliding his fat body out of the passenger seat. “It’s so weird to be back!” he laughed, brushing crumbs off his large t-shirt. It was so cold out, Gaz stuck out like a sore thumb, dressed in his sweatshorts. Perhaps that was the point.

Aiden could tell that the place was full of memories for the pair of them as they followed him to the dorm, pointing and commenting at the quiet little meeting spots and giggling with each other. He apologised about the stairs before Gaz had to begin climbing them to get up to Aiden’s room.

Reaching the top, Aiden turned and waited for his sister and Gaz to catch him up. Suddenly, his neighbor, Jackson, strolled out into the corridor, on his way out. He nodded courteously to Aiden and then spotted his sister; his jaw immediately dropping.

“Aiden, buddy!” he smiled. “Do you have some guests?” he suddenly asked, pulling out all of his charm as he saw how attractive Katy was.

Aiden rolled his eyes. Just like every other guy who met his sister, Jackson was clearly interested, and assumed, with staggering arrogance, that her enormous, blubbery fiance was no match for him. The guy had stopped and held out his hand to introduce himself as Aiden’s friend, then accompanied them back upstairs, inviting himself along on the tour; holding doors open for Katy and moving well out of the way before Gaz had to squeeze himself through them.

“Your little brother is super popular in the dorms,” Jackon explained as they went around. “Everyone knows what a good laugh he is,” he smiled.

Again, Aiden rolled his eyes at Jackson’s charm offensive. However, he bit his tongue, knowing that it was all going to be for nothing. Katy and Gaz spoke about some of the people they used to know who lived in the building and, a few minutes later, Jackson was shocked to learn that Gaz had once been part of the same football team that he played for now. He listed off the names of the trainers, barely comprehending that Gaz knew them all as well. “Why don’t you take Gaz on a little tour of the football facilities?” Aiden suggested next, spotting a way to off-load the opportunist. He smirked as Katy agreed what a good idea it was, waving them both off a short while afterwards.

“He’s cute!” Katy whispered, turning her head to get a look at Jackson’s tight butt as he walked just behind the monstrous beast that was her fiance. “And very eager to please!” she chuckled.

“I’m guessing this is the effect you have on most men?” Aiden joked. He knew his sister was pretty, but it was hard to comprehend just how much guys were into her until he witnessed them embarrassingly falling over themselves to try and get her attention.

During their time alone. Katy had discussed the wedding plans in great detail. Everything had been organised and every second of the event accounted for. Aiden would have a list of jobs to do, acting as the usher, and he could tell that Katy was going to hold him accountable for every last one of them.

The boys returned an hour later, laughing and joking as they headed into Aiden’s room. Gaz was pleased by his tour, having bumped into a few of the people he used to know.

“Listen, are you two staying over tonight?” he asked Gaz and Katy together. “You can have my room. I’ll bunk on the floor, in here with Aiden,” he offered kindly.

Aiden was surprised when Katy accepted. They had more than enough money for a hotel, and that had been their plan before heading down here. However, perhaps the kinkiness of one last night in the dorms was getting to them both.

“So that’s the soon-to-be brother in law you have a massive crush on?” Jackson immediately teased Aiden the moment they were alone in his bedroom with his temporary bed made up on the floor.

Aiden sighed, having forgotten that he had ever said that to everyone. Trust Jackson to remember.

“He’s not the obvious choice for a gay crush!” Jackson laughed. “And I’m guessing it’s not just his personality that you’re attracted to. You could hardly keep your eyes off his big gut. And nor could your sister, to be fair” he conceded; seemingly having finally worked out that he didn’t have a hope in seducing her.

“What can I say?” Aiden smirked, deciding his best defence was to own it. “My sister and I have interesting tastes in men.”

“I know what your sister did to him,” Jackson went on. “It took me a little while to piece it together, but the football coaches talk about Gaz all the time. I thought I recognised him the moment I saw him as well, from the pictures we have up by the changing rooms.”

“What do they say?” Aiden asked, surprised. Had Gaz been the true reason why they hadn’t been able to shake Jackson off all afternoon?

“They tell us it’s important to keep focused and not get distracted by girls. They talk about Gaz as a cautionary tale: Gavin Knox, their star athlete who lost every opportunity he had by getting lazy and fat after falling for a girl who liked to overfeed him.”

“They really say that?” Aiden chuckled, feeling oddly proud.

“Oh yeah!” Jackson nodded. “The pair of them are fairly infamous amongst the trainers here. Gone, but definitely not forgotten.”

Aiden nodded. “I’m sure Katy will be delighted when I tell her.”

Jackson pulled off his shirt and lay down on the blow up mattress on the floor. “You know, if you’re still hung up on your sister’s boyfriend, I have a good way to keep you distracted,” he smiled suggestively.

Aiden looked down from his bed. “Oh, really?” he asked, surprised that the football jock was taking his flirtation this far.

“Come on,” he winked, clearly adjusting his erection underneath the bed sheets. You’re horny. I’m horny. You’re hot… I’m super hot!” he grinned. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Aiden considered his options. He was in no way against casual sex, but being just another one of Jackson’s conquests was not something he wanted for himself. He couldn’t be yet another person who had fed into that ego by submitting himself to the football jock. He reached into his drawer and threw a pack of tissues down at him. “Go ahead. Knock yourself out!” he teased, leaning on his side, as if ready to enjoy a spectacle.

Jackson seemed surprised as he held the box of tissues in his hand and realised that was all he was getting. “Are you not joining me?” he asked.

“No. I’m not,” Jackson simply smiled back. “I’ll be watching.”

Clearly a little embarrassed, Jackson slipped his hand down into his underwear and began gently tugging himself. The guy really was horny. Within a short while he was sighing and moaning gently with his eyes closed. He looked across briefly to see if Aiden was still watching him. He was; smiling in amusement. The guy closed his eyes again, but couldn’t help looking across once more, now glancing up and holding Aiden’s stare for the last twenty seconds or so. He came, quite powerfully by the sounds of things, still having to suffer Aiden’s watchful eye as he cleaned himself up with the tissues.

The next morning, Jackson was more charming than ever with Katy and Gaz. He’d left Aiden’s room early to head to the gym but had returned just as everyone was up and chatting in the kitchen area. They thanked him for letting them use his room and Jackson even drove Gaz to a bar where they could watch the football game whilst Aiden was subjected to more of Katy’s wedding preparations; driving from store to store in his sister’s swanky new company car.

“Thanks for your help this weekend,” Aiden smiled sincerely at Jackson, as Katy and Gaz drove off at last that evening. “I’m sorry if we took up so much of your time.”

“I enjoyed myself,” Jackson shrugged. “They’re a fun couple and Gaz really knows his stuff when it comes to playing football.”

“Did he give you some good tips?” Aiden laughed, finding it difficult to imagine Gaz in any sort of sporting context these days.

“He gave me some good advice, yeah,” Jackson nodded. “But the weekend isn’t over quite yet. So… maybe I don’t have to go back to my own room…” he teased.

Aiden enjoyed the power he seemed to have inherited. In not giving into the handsome boy, he’d somehow ensured that the guy had never wanted him more. “Goodnight, Jackson,” he laughed, striding back up to his dorm room, alone.

As the day finally came, Gaz and Katy’s wedding had been one that none of them would ever forget. Katy had been the ultimate bridezilla from the moment she woke up that morning. But as the ceremony ended and everyone settled into the meal and speeches, the tone had at last started to relax.

Gaz had clearly been on some super fattening diet for the last couple of weeks, given how enormous his face had become. It was more than obvious that Katy had been the one to choose the fit of his suit. Gaz had never looked so irresistibly spherical in his entire life. Their father had done a passable job at a congratulations speech, officially welcoming Gaz into their family, whether he really wanted him or not. Likewise, Gaz;s best man had done an amazing speech that made everyone laugh. Katy had been delighted with the choice; toned, trim and muscular, the guy was doing an incredible job of making Gaz look even fatter as he stood next to him in so many of the pictures.

“Jeez! Your sister’s new in-laws absolutely hate her!” whispered a deep, quiet voice behind Aiden as he took a brief moment on the balcony of the hotel bar for a quick breather from the wedding party.

“Jackson?” Aiden blasted in disbelief before he even turned around. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Gaz invited me when they were over a few weekends ago,” he smiled, holding up the invitation for the evening party. “I would have told you, but you’ve been avoiding me…” he teased. “However, may I just say… you look so fucking hot in that suit tonight,” he growled, moving in closer so that his hands were resting on Aiden’s hips.

“Still trying to collect me, huh?” Aiden smirked sceptically, looking down at the liberty Jackson was taking in touching him like this.

“You have to know how into you I am,” Jackson whispered, sliding his hands back onto Aiden’s butt and leaning in until their hot breath met. It was clear from the scent of beer on Jackson’s breath that he had been drinking a little to give him the courage to be so forward.

“I know,” Aiden whispered back, starting to enjoy this fumbling attempt at a seduction. But the temptation to torture him by refusing once more was still so tempting.

“I’ve been mad about you for months,” Jackson went on. “Then, when you made me climax, just by looking at me like that…”

Aiden chuckled at the memory of that evening and then a very gentle kiss ensued between the two of them.

“I’d do anything for you…” Jackson whispered afterwards, before heading in for a second round.

“Erm, Aiden?” interrupted his father, awkwardly stepping out onto the balcony. “Is there someone you want to introduce me to?” he asked in his typically intrusive manner.

Instinctively, Jackson pulled back and stood to attention, as if he was a new army recruit. “You’re Aiden and Katy’s father,” he stated clearly, holding out his large hand to shake. “It’s so nice to meet you, Sir.”

Aiden’s father took the hand and shook it firmly. “You’re a strong lad,” he declared after a second. “Football, I’m guessing?”

“Yes, Sir,” Aiden nodded, eager to please.

“So, are you two… dating?” he asked next, looking curiously between the pair of them.

“No,” Aiden answered calmly, finding Jackson’s newfound respectful manner with his father to be one of the most hilarious spectacles he had seen all year.

“Not yet!” Jackson added optimistically. “But I’m pretty crazy about your son, Sir.”

“Enough!” sighed Aiden, taking Jackson’s hand and laughing as he led him away from his intrusive father and onto the dancefloor. Jackson wasn’t a natural dancer but he tried his best for Aiden, who made it seem so effortless. A little while afterwards, a sweaty, overfed Gaz headed over to greet the new arrival, hugging him like the pair of them had bonded more than Aiden realised during that weekend.

“I’m pleased you could make it,” Gaz smiled. His large, but very fitted shirt had come untucked, the buttons obviously straining now his tie had been taken off; his stomach bloated on too much food and beer. “I see you took my advice,” he chuckled, glancing back at Aiden like he had noticed how closely they had been dancing. “Listen, there’s a load of freshly cut wedding cake over there,” he continued explaining to the football jock, shouting loudly above the noise of the music. Then he tapped him on his tight, muscular glutes in the way that sports players always seemed so surprisingly comfortable doing.”Go pig-out.”

Gaz’s parents interrupted them, explaining that they were leaving already, despite the fact that it had only just turned eight. Then the drunk Gaz went in for a hug with both of them; with large pools of sweat on show under his armpits. The older couple merely waved at Aiden, having decided some time ago that he was cut from the same cloth as their loathsome new daughter-in-law.

Jackson took Aiden’s hand and led him over to where the cake had been cut and laid out. “Why’d they cut the slices so small?” he chuckled, picking up five of them and stacking them onto his plate to make a very decent wedge, which the jock soon began devouring.

“What was that about, with Gaz?” Aiden asked, having been surprised by the unlikely friendship between them both.

“We’ve just been messaging each other these last few weeks,” Jackson explained. “He’s very good at giving advice.”

“About what?” Aiden shot back.

But Jackson’s attention was elsewhere. “Jeez, they’re all off!” he commented, too busy noticing the queue of Gaz’s family lining up to say goodbye to him as they left early. “Not one of them has even acknowledged your sister yet,” he pointed, as they all slipped away; ignoring Katy as she was distracted, talking to her friends on another table.

Aiden chuckled. “Katy’s a big girl. She can take it!” he smirked.

“I must say,” Jackson smiled, picking up one of the many pictures of the couple dotted around the room. “These are a nice, antagonistic touch,” he joked, clearly referring to the fact that the photos of the newlyweds were all from at least four and a half years ago, when Gaz was still fit and athletic.

Aiden nodded and grinned. “My sister certainly has a very warped sense of humor!” he laughed. “You should have seen how blatantly she was feeding Gaz his dessert earlier.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I heard all about that when I got here,” Jackson nodded. “Your sister certainly knows how to make an impression.” He put down his plate of cake crumbs and reached in to squeeze Aiden affectionately around his waist. “Gaz is a lucky man,” he whispered.

With a beer in his hand later that evening, Jackson sat back in a chair and pulled Aiden in so that the pretty boy could perch himself on his knee. He rested his large hand delicately on Aiden’s hip; his touch being the greatest of all his love languages.

Several family members came over to meet the strapping new man who was obviously so smitten with Aiden. Rather than trying to tear Aiden away to his hotel room for sex, Jackson appeared to just enjoy being there, lavishing gentle affection on the boy he had been quietly in love with for some time, and meeting everyone who was important in his life. It was all so intimate and sexy; a new experience for them both. When they did finally make it back to Aiden’s room, the gentle sex that followed was the most connected that either of them had ever felt to another person.

The next morning, Aiden awoke with the strapping young man gently spooning him from behind. Aiden wanted nothing more than to stay there in bed with him all day, but check-out was at eleven and Katy had already messaged him with a stack of chores, gathering up the bits and pieces from the wedding the night before and distributing them amongst the family to take with them in their cars.

“Katy, there’s no sign of the guest book,” Aiden explained, entering the honeymoon suite with his newfound personal assistant, Jackson. The muscular guy spotted a grotesquely obese Gaz sat up on the bed in only his underwear; fat bulging and spilling in every direction. He headed straight over to greet him, then sat in the chair, catching up on all of the football highlights on TV from the games they had both missed the night before.

“Don’t worry. Mom’s got that,” Katy stated.

Aiden breathed a sigh of relief. His final task had been taken care of. He looked around the room, seeing copious amounts of dirty plates and bowls from room service. “I can see you’ve been having some fun this morning,” he chuckled.

“I could say the same about you last night,” Katy smiled, nodding towards Jackson, still dressed in his suit from the night before.

Aiden smiled back. He didn’t really understand any of this himself and so he quickly changed the subject. “Where has this friendship suddenly come from?” he asked, pointing towards the two vastly contrasting boys, laughing and joking at what they were watching on TV.

Katy sighed and rolled her eyes. “I know!” she chuckled. “They’ve been messaging like crazy. Boring boy stuff mostly. Lots about you, of course. And about Jackson wanting to quit football.”

“He wants to quit football?” Aiden asked. “Since when?”

Katy shrugged with mild disinterest. “I guess you need to talk to Jackson.” She sighed, quickly losing interest in him, like only a sister could. “Anyway,” she declared, throwing her hands out like it was time to disperse. “Off you go! We need our alone time.”

Aiden bit his tongue; resisting the urge to explain just how much he had been running after her all morning. “Come on, Jackson,” he called. “We’d better go check out anyway.” He could see that the pair of them were quite engrossed in their conversation. However, their discussion paused the moment that Aiden stood, waiting for him.

“Give me a call if you manage to get tickets,” Jackson nodded to his friend, fist pumping as they parted.

“Just send me a message anytime you need to chat,” Gaz offered kindly as Katy ushered them both out.

“So, you guys are like, best friends now?” Aiden asked suspiciously as he and Jackson headed down in the elevator after grabbing Aiden’s bags from his room. He couldn’t quite understand the quiet little jealousy that he felt. Despite crushing on Gaz for years, he’d never managed to connect with him in the way that Jackson seemed to be able to do so effortlessly. Gaz was a typical man’s man, preferring the company of other sports and beer loving guys whenever he wasn’t being fattened by his wife.

“He’s a great guy,” Jackson shrugged, turning into Aiden to kiss him; not wanting to waste a single private moment together. “Gaz and I have got a lot in common,” he smiled as the elevator doors opened once more and they were both thrown into the busy lobby area. “I’ll catch you back on the campus later,” he smiled, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and leaning in for a final kiss; leaving Aiden with more questions than answers.

After being dragged out to lunch with his aunts before they headed off to the airport and home, Aiden arrived back on the campus late and went straight to bed. He woke up the next morning with his alarm screaming at him, then raced down the campus to his first class of the day. But, by the time he made it back to the dorm, he was greeted by several people all standing around, gossiping.

“Did you hear? The whole campus is up in arms about it. Jackson quit the football team!”

Aiden’s jaw dropped, kicking himself that he hadn’t asked Jackson about this the moment he heard that the athlete was considering quitting. “But, why? He’s the star player!” he shot back.

Jackson strolled into the kitchen looking very pleased with himself a little later on. He’d clearly had people asking him all day about why he had made such a drastic decision.

“What about your scholarship?” blasted one person, after Jackson had stated assertively to them all that his mind was made up.

“Already taken care of,” Jackson replied calmly. He spotted Aiden in the corner and smiled. “Hello,” he mouthed; his eyes dancing with delight. “Want to go for a walk?”

Aiden looked around at the confused faces, then stepped forwards and took Jackson’s hand, registering the gasps of surprise as the pair of them walked away. He’d never felt butterflies in his stomach like this before and hadn’t ever imagined that he would feel so overwhelmed by the idea of dating someone like Jackson.

“So, I’m guessing there is more to this than meets the eye?” Aiden finally asked, as the pair of them side-stepped another bunch of people further down the corridor and sought refuge in Aiden’s room.

“Not really,” Jackson smiled, kissing his boy. “I’ve wanted this for a long time. I’ve just never been able to express it until I met you. And I don’t want to go through what Gaz went through, getting fat and still keeping up the pretence of being an athlete; training and playing games.”

“Hold up!” Aiden shrieked. “Getting fat?”

“Of course,” Jackson nodded. “I’ve wanted it for as long as I can remember. I just thought I was some sort of freak, until I talked it over with Gaz that weekend.” He removed his shirt and threw it on the floor. “This isn’t who I am,” he pointed at his chiselled stomach, grabbing at the skin where no fat hit underneath it. “I’m not supposed to be this way. I’ve just been pushed along by other people, simply because I had a little bit of talent growing up.”

Jackson turned and walked to gaze at his reflection in Aiden’s mirror. He flexed his stomach muscles and tensed his bicep. Aiden watched him from behind, already permitting himself to imagine those perky glutes starting to swell with fat.

“Gaz described it best to me,” Jackson continued, turning around to face Aiden. “It’s just this longing inside you… this desire to be a great big fat pig!”

Aiden could see the arousal in Jackson’s gym shorts as he was saying these things, and he felt utterly speechless at the revelations about the boy he had spent months being so apathetic about. “You know who’s going to get all the blame for you quitting football,” he sighed, realising that he was about to become a lot less popular around campus.

“It had to be done. I need to commit,” Jackson smiled. “I talked it through for ages with Gaz. Not quitting football right away was the only thing he regretted.”

“Then, when you start getting chubby… when the love handles start to form and your tight little butt swells out… who do you think they will all be pointing the finger at?” he asked, trying to hold back a smile.

Jackson moaned and reached in to pull Aiden closer to him. “Oh, fuck! That’s so hot!” he whispered. “They’ll say you turned me into a pig!”

“And they’d be right,” Aiden nodded in complete agreement, allowing himself to get swept up in the horny jock’s kisses. Was this it? Was he really about to embark upon his ultimate fantasy? “I’ll have you oinking in no time!”

With that, Jackson slipped off his shorts and pants in one fast movement, pulling Aiden down onto the bed, making love even more passionately than last time.

“Come on, get it all down!” Aiden insisted a few days later as Jackson tried to complete the enormous, thick shake that his boyfriend had made for him. It wasn’t the best recipe and was far too sweet, but they were still both learning.

Jackson swallowed some more and then stopped, wincing at the taste. There was still at least one third to go and the immense amount of effort it was going to take was etched all over his handsome face. He burped up some gas and groaned a little, rubbing his tight middle even though his stomach muscles still pushed through under the skin. “It’s just so… thick,” the naked boy mumbled. Despite the effort, his hardness was still pushing up to the ceiling of Aiden’s bedroom. Ever since Jackson had committed to this, his erection had hardly left him.

“You want to be a big fat pig though, don’t you?” Aiden teased, grabbing onto Jackson’s boner and massaging it up and down so that the horny boy’s eyes rolled back into his head. He moaned, then threw his head back and continued to swallow until the thick, gloopy shake was all gone.

Jackson rubbed his painfully stretched stomach, now completely packed with absolutely everything they had bought that evening. Even his breathing sounded laboured. “Fuck!” he grumbled. “I really hope that stuff gets rid of my six pack soon.”

Aiden laughed, knowing exactly what he’d blended together to make the fattening shake. “Trust me, if that can’t manage it, nothing will!”

Unlike Gaz, Jackson didn’t fall asleep after a stuffing. He found it difficult to ignore the stretch of the bloat and sat up in Aiden’s bed watching comedies, trying to distract himself as the abundance of calories set to work on transforming his body. Now that Jackson had been stripped of all the things Aiden had disliked about the boy: his ego, idiot jock buddies and womanising nature, Aiden could at last see the reasons why the football hunk had been so certain that they were perfect for each other. They shared the same sense of humor, had the same interests in music and movies; not forgetting that, sexually, they were more compatible than two people ever could be.

Jackson’s weight gain wasn’t especially noticeable at first. It began with a gentle softening of his immaculately toned body and grew from there. Within a few weeks, the boy’s stomach was decidedly bloated and thicker looking, whilst his face appeared ever so slightly fuller. Their friends had disapproved of how insular and boring they had both become, always electing to spend time alone together, rather than going out to the bars with them like they used to. Despite the several different calorie shakes Aiden whipped up quietly in the kitchen, they couldn’t see yet what was being done to Jackson; even into the small hours of the night.

Jackson was obsessed with his own body. He admired it constantly in the mirror as he started to carry a little extra weight on his sides. Aiden had never seen the guy’s dick get so hard than when he pinched and gently jiggled those first little, hard-earned pouches of fat.

“I think it’s time we showed this off, don’t you?” Aiden asked one morning as the late Spring sun poured in through his window. “The six pack has gone, the love handles are blossoming and your glutes are finally swelling up.”

Jackson looked across at him with a little shock. “You mean, go outside sunbathing? Without a shirt on?”

“I was thinking more of a picnic,” Aiden chuckled, ever the opportunist. “You could wear those old gym shorts that pinch your hips now.”

Despite having climaxed only a couple of minutes before, Jackson immediately became aroused again. Finally, after weeks and weeks of gorging, he was at last ready to be shown off.

A thin tire of fat slid around Jackson’s waist as he sat on the grass outside, eating the piles of sandwiches and pastries Aiden provided. He sipped on sodas and beers as people came up to them to chat; each one dutifully trying not to stare at the remarkable softening that had taken place upon Jackson’s physique. At one point, some of the boys came out and asked him to throw a ball around with them, which Jackson immediately refused, feeling too bloated and aroused to move and often having to reposition the picnic bag in front of his crotch.

“How long do you think it will be until I start getting my first comments about this weight gain?” Jackson asked his handsome lover, hidden behind his large sunglasses.

“A few more weeks,” Aiden stated after a short consideration. “Eat hard this summer and we can have a decent gut on you by the time we’re back on campus in the Fall. You can start the second year as a proper fatty.”

Aiden knew that Jackson appreciated straight talk. If he wasn’t eating enough, or if he was complaining too much about being full, he wanted to be told. But, likewise, he got off on the blunt way that Aiden would describe the future. What Jackson had embarked upon would alter everything in his life: his body, his appetite, his energy levels; not forgetting the ways in which people would perceive and approach him in future. A fat man’s experience was very different to the reverence that Jackson had received so far. He needed to be ready for it.

That summer, Jackson spent the entire time at Aiden’s parents’ place, seeing as it was so much quieter than his own family home. Aiden had a lot more privacy, utilising the compact apartment above the garage, practically moving in for the whole of the break from college.

“Here it comes,” Aiden’s dad grumbled as he looked out of the window and saw his daughter’s enormous new car pulling up on the drive. “Jeez! What the hell does he look like?” he continued, peering at the giant Gaz rocking his fat body to get out from the passenger seat. “Doesn’t he realise we can all see his belly falling out of that t-shirt?”

Jackson and Aiden gave each other a mischievous look. Despite the thicker appearance of Aiden’s new boyfriend, his father had yet to work out that he would soon be acquiring another very obese son-in-law in the future.

Gaz strolled through the front yard, casting a giant shadow through the window as he moved towards the front door. Many months had gone by since the wedding and extended honeymoon, with Katy’s new husband now looking significantly flabbier and softer as he trotted about with a slight waddle. Meanwhile, Katy looked, if anything, even younger and more attractive in her flashy designer clothes, funded by the remarkable pay she earned in her latest position at her company.

After dinner, all four of them retreated to the garage apartment where they could speak more freely and joke about how Aiden and Katy’s father had been eyeing his fat, greedy son-in-law the entire time during dinner; begrudging him every enormous mouthful he took. “He didn’t even notice that Jackson was eating just as much!” Katy laughed. “How much have you packed on so far?” she asked her brother’s boyfriend with interest.

“Forty pounds,” Jackson replied dutifully.

Katy looked at her husband and squinted her eyes, trying to recall when Gaz was first fattening up. “That sounds about right for this stage,” she nodded. “There’s a fair amount of muscle loss in those first few months, I remember.”

Aiden, who had spent much of his time bouncing and jiggling Jackson’s swollen glutes, nodded and laughed in full agreement.

“I’ve managed to find a place for you both to live next year. I have a few contacts in the city,” Katy went on. “I’ll cover the rent. It’s a complete steal anyway. Plus, it will give you guys more money to fund the gains.”

Aiden and Jackson gasped with surprise at her generosity: their own private apartment!

“It’s fine,” Katy smiled back. “It’s just the sort of thing I would have found most useful when I was in college, trying to fatten this piggy on a budget,” she laughed, caressing the rather extreme fat at the back of her husband’s neck. “And if you can keep those grades up from this first year,” she added sternly to Aiden, “I’ll have a position ready and waiting for you at my company. It’s all worked into my five-year plan,” she nodded in her typically efficient and organised manner.

Suddenly, with Katy’s help, the path towards the future looked so effortless and simple. Once the lights inside the main house went off, they ordered in pizza and Chinese, letting Gaz and Jackson playfully compete with each other and gorge themselves until the early hours. There was much to be celebrated.

As the summer began to roll away, Aiden knew that he would have to accompany Jackson back to his own family at some point, before college started back up.

“They’re going to be so pissed about what I’ve done,” Jackson grumbled, patting the thickness that had amassed on his stomach. “They pushed me so much to follow football. They were so happy when I got the sports scholarship, and now look at me!”

Aiden sighed, realising why Jackson’s appetite hadn’t been quite as ravenous in the last few days. The boy could give up sports, indulge and appreciate his swelling body without a care about what anyone else thought. But family, that was always different.

“Who said that you’re responsible for any of this?” Aiden asked, playfully grabbing a wedge of Jackson’s new belly fat. “As far I can tell, you’re just a nice boy who got ensnared by one of those awful feeder-types,” he joked.

Jackson smiled sweetly, but his nerves were still evident.

“I’m serious!” Aiden laughed. “You’ve got to stop thinking of yourself as being the master of your own destiny here. You’re the poor little victim!” he joked. “You fell for some pretty boy with a wicked, coercive personality; making you get fatter and fatter so that no one else will take you away from him.”

“Is that what you think my parents will assume?” Jackson chuckled. “That this is all your fault?”

“Of course they will,” Aiden laughed. “ It’s exactly what happened to Katy as well. A golden child like you, or Gaz, would never do something like this on purpose!” he smirked, squeezing Jackson’s cute chubbier cheek.

“That’s not really fair on you though, is it?”

Aiden shrugged playfully. “Are you sure about that? Without me, this little fat belly wouldn’t be here at all, would it?”

“I suppose not,” Jackson smiled, looking up gratefully at his lover. “But I’m glad that it is.”

“Well then, stop worrying. Every story needs a villain. I’ve got this one covered.”

The week-long visit to see Aiden’s family was predictably awful. As soon as Jackson’s parents saw their boy, Aiden felt an immediate wave of hostility heading his way. In contrast to the privacy they had enjoyed all summer, here Jackson’s family regularly went into the small bedroom they shared, organising a family intervention meeting as soon as they discovered the many empty snack wrappers and empty bottles of soda. Aiden had not been invited.

“What did they say?” Aiden asked as soon as Jackson made it back to the bedroom that evening.

“They’re pissed,” Jackson sighed. “Super pissed. I tried to defend you, but they’re adamant that you’re a bad influence on me. They don’t want us moving in together next semester.”

Aiden chuckled. “Well, that’s just too bad for them,” he smiled, tapping the bed for his overfed lover to sit down next to him.

“They made it clear that they’re going to be keeping a careful eye on what I eat whilst I’m here, and they want me to sign up for something sporting when I go back to college.”

“That’s fine,” Aiden nodded. “I’ve been looking into some eating contests I want to enter you into anyway.”

At this, Jackson couldn’t help but laugh. “How come you’re so laid back about all this?” he asked; visibly relaxing more as he settled into Aiden’s company.

“Because, if they think you’re fat now… they’re in for a real surprise in a few more months.”

Jackson turned into him and kissed him, growling with horny excitement. “Mmm, yeah!” he whispered. “It’s hard to imagine getting fatter; being here; getting told off for everything I put into my mouth.”

“I feel very sorry for them, I do,” Aiden agreed. “It’s so obvious that they don’t want a fat piggy for a son. But that’s not going to stop me.”

“I can’t see me gaining any weight this week,” Jackson replied apologetically.

Aiden laughed and shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he grinned. “No one backs a guy like me into a corner. In fact, I think this will be your highest calorie week to date.”

Jackson laughed. “What did you have in mind?” he asked; his new hardness starting to push into Aiden’s thigh.

Aiden smirked, starting to formulate a plan in his head. “If your family think I’m a monster… I’ll give them a monster. I’ll be their worst nightmare.”

The key to Aiden’s success over the next few days was in making sure the pair of them had a good reason to leave the house each day. Given that they were under such scrutiny, he had to use that time wisely to ensure that it was used effectively. Drinking a gallon of full fat milk was an old-fashioned technique to weight gain, but also very effective. Not only would it give Jackson a huge, fattening daily boost, but it would also train his capacity for the months to come. Time was so limited, the pressure on Jackson to get the milk down was intense as they sat together in a supermarket parking lot.

“Come on, we’ve got ten minutes until we need to start heading back,” Aiden reminded his lover as he got back in the car and saw that Jackson was still only half way through his gallon. There was always some excuse for why they needed to be back home at a certain time; never more than an hour until Jackson’s suffocating family needed them back under their supervision. Even when Aiden lied and told them they were going for a hike, the time limits never eased up.

Jackson burped and rubbed his bloated stomach. “It seriously hurts,” he grumbled, despite the serious hardness that was laying against his thigh.

“No pain, no gain,” Aiden replied mercilessly. He allowed Jackson a little more time to push himself as hard as he could, then poured out the water from the bottles they had taken with them for their supposed hike, then decanted the remaining milk into them; perfectly disguised.

It worked surprisingly well. Despite his large bloat, Jackson would always return looking sluggish and sweaty; genuinely needing to sit down, like he had really just been on a big hike. However, the suspicion on Aiden was always there. Not that Jackson’s family would ever dare to call him out on it to his face. Instead, they whispered behind his back and pulled Jackson aside to express their concerns. Aiden smirked and decided to enjoy the experience as their house guest nonetheless: the generous hospitality, eating their food, monopolising their large TV in the lounge; all the while secretly fattening up their pride and joy.

“Piggy, wake up!” Aiden whispered as quietly as he could into Jackson’s ear at night. “Piggy, come on now!”

Groggily, Jackson would stir in the darkness; his nose detecting the scent of something that needed eating. “Is that peanut butter?” he asked, just about making out a spoon close to his face.

“Shh, Piggy!” Aiden whispered, almost inaudibly, delivering the first piled spoonful once Jackson sat up slightly. This was one of the only things he had managed to sneak back into the house during their supermarket trip. He felt a little guilty, knowing that this wasn’t the nicest peanut butter available. But it was packed full of calories and was the only one he could find in a plastic jar so that he could scrape around inside it in the dead of night without making any noise.

After a minute or so, Aiden passed Jackson the jar and threw off the bed sheets, slipping a hand into the guy’s underwear, massaging the throbbing hardness that always came during these feeding sessions in the middle of the night. It wasn’t just the food or the inevitable weight gain it would cause that was arousing Jackson tonight; it was the knowledge that he was being fattened by someone as ruthless and scheming as Aiden. Someone who could smile politely to his parents’ face, then do this to him behind their backs. He’d moan softly, knowing that he would soon be allowed to climax as the end of the jar approached, then be shushed and reminded about just how naughty they were being.

After the horny boy came at last, Aiden smiled with satisfaction, using a cleaning wipe to mop up around the guy’s handsome face and ensuring he lay back down. He stroked his sweaty head until sleep came to find him once more, allowing the calories inside his little pig’s body to set to work.

Aiden was sure to hide all the evidence of their feeds, working with incredible stealth the entire week to ensure that he was never caught. Whenever Jackson’s family turned their backs, something was being done to their boy: pushing treats high in calories into his mouth, grabbing or jiggling the light fat on his body and whispering into his ear to get him hard and horny to eat later.

Despite this, Jackson was made to feel utterly miserable by his family the rest of the time. The parents really had no idea that they were playing into Aiden’s hands so well, setting the boy’s mind with a defiance and determination that he was going to eat and gorge himself into obesity as soon as he made it back to college. They had given Aiden and Jackson a common enemy that they could bond together against. So, when the end of the week finally arrived, Aiden knew that it had been one of the most productive periods of his and Jackson’s entire relationship. He said his goodbye to Jackson’s parents and older siblings, knowing that he hadn’t made any real connections with any of them. Then he climbed into Jackson’s car, waving them all off, both of them breathing a sigh of relief as they made it to the freeway. Freedom at last.

Later the next day, the two boys were very happy to be moving into their new apartment close to the campus. Everything was finally settling into place and a week of pure gluttony followed. As their student loans came through, the cupboards were packed full of everything needed to grow. The time coincided with the revelation that Jackson’s large pecs were at last starting to succumb to the weight gain; growing noticeably softer and more sensitive. Just as they had both hoped, the reactions of their friends were every bit as arousing as they had imagined. Jackson’s ex teammates seemed to feel no shame in grabbing and poking the guy’s new blubber as if it was all some big joke, caused simply by the lack of exercise now that he no longer trained. Their assumptions were all so beautifully sweet and innocent; before the blubber would become more extreme and concerning to them all; before they really realised what was really being done to the ex football player.

Once that initial coat of fat had been developed over Jackson’s toned body, the softening began to increase with remarkable speed. Fat built upon fat, rounding Jackson out to give him a genuine belly; the prize that they had long been working towards.

“Are you ever going to wear a shirt again?” Aiden joked; getting home and seeing Jackson playing with his jiggly tummy as he sat eating potato chips by the TV.

Jackson smirked, getting up and walking over to check out the things Aiden had picked up from the supermarket after his class; the fat in his middle bouncing gently as he sluggishly stomped across the room. He’d wanted the ice cream right away, but Aiden had insisted on letting it melt so that it would be easier and faster for Jackson to take down later. The chubby boy nuzzled into him, always so ridiculously horny after he’d been playing with his own belly. In the end, he was only pacified by a large box of cookies being handed to him.

“You’ve got that assignment to finish tonight, haven’t you?” Aiden asked, setting to making his lover a rather large dinner, before he too would have to pull out his laptop to continue working. Unlike last year when he had merely excelled at all his assignments, this year, Aiden was making as much of a name for himself as his sister had before him. He’d been offered a fast-track degree, completing his course in three years, instead of the full four; an offer that he could not turn down. However, the added pressure and workload had meant he’d dropped the ball on ensuring Jackson was keeping up with his own course in the same way as he had last year.

“I’ll do it later,” Jackson sighed dismissively, more interested in running his fingers along the soft roll of fat that overhung his waistband as he sat in front of the TV.

Aiden rolled his eyes. As much as he loved having such a fat and lazy boyfriend, it was stressful trying to get him organised. Someone on Jackson’s course had referred to him as ‘chubby’ last week, sending the ex-jock into a horny, fever-driven eating binge that lasted for days and left him very far behind on everything else. But it wasn’t Aiden’s job to organise every part of Jackson’s life, he reasoned, melting down an entire stick of butter for Jackson’s macaroni and cheese dinner. This was one problem the fat boy would have to sort out himself.

It was another week later, as Aiden got home, carrying another full bag of groceries, that he noticed something was wrong with Jackson. Even as he began unpacking his bags filled with fattening treats, his greedy lover hadn’t come over to check out what had been bought for him. Even more surprising, he was wearing his t-shirt and even his dirty sneakers hadn’t been kicked off his large feet yet.

“I got kicked off my course,” Jackson finally admitted. “They found out I’ve been using some software to write my last few assignments,” he mumbled. “Zero tolerance.”

Aiden gritted his teeth and sat down next to him, unsure how to take the news. In one way, life would be easier for him now that he didn’t have to stress about Jackson’s college work. The worst had now happened. But, on the other hand, Jackson’s student loan payments would soon stop and Aiden knew that the chub’s parents would be straight down to see him the moment they found out he’d messed up so badly. “Come on then,” he sighed, getting up from his seat and heading over to the kitchen. “We’ll have to get all this food eaten,” he declared, opening the over-packed cupboards and starting to pull things out. “If your mom is here this weekend, she can’t see any of this.”

“All of it?” Jackson asked, looking a little daunted.

“It’s not my fault!” Aiden grumbled back. “You’re the one who got us into this mess, remember.” He started organising it all into what could be eaten up by Jackson across the week: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. Perhaps, if they arrived later, there might be some room to get a little more of it eaten on Saturday morning too. “Well, don’t just sit there!” Aiden sighed, throwing a huge bag of toffee popcorn over to his boyfriend. “Make yourself useful and get started!”

Aiden ensured that he was very busy that weekend, heading to the library to give Jackson some time with his parents whilst they outlined, in very specific detail, exactly how he had disappointed them. This visit had worried him all week. Despite Jackson’s love and lust for their life together, the boy’s parents held a very powerful spell over him. He wouldn’t put it past them to insist their boy came straight home with them. That’s why getting Jackson a job had been Aiden’s priority before they arrived, with the lazy boy begrudgingly accepting a role within the campus on-site security team. Having an income, Aiden had reasoned, would go some way to ensuring his parents that Jackson had some sort of plan for life after college. Aiden dressed his boyfriend in his loosest fitting clothes and got the hell out of the way; happy to avoid most of the inevitable shit show.

It was nearly six by the time Aiden headed back to the apartment. He’d made his usual trip to the supermarket; this time picking up fruit and vegetables, alongside low fat yoghurts and milk; all part of the weekend’s charade. He slipped into the lounge area to quietly greet them both and offer a cup of coffee, making sure the stick of celery was highly visible in the shopping bag he was still holding. Unsurprisingly, they were both short with him and made it clear that they wanted to speak to Jackson on his own. Aiden looked up at his lover, seeing how utterly miserable he looked.

Aiden ground his teeth in annoyance as he headed back to the kitchen. The sooner they left, the better! Nobody wanted them here anyway.

Just then, the buzzer sounded, with someone waiting downstairs. Jackson hadn’t dared to order take-out whilst his parents were there, had he?

“Hello! It’s us!” sang Katy’s voice. “We’ve come to surprise you!”

Aiden’s eyes popped wide open. He’d been bugging his sister for weeks to come over and see the new apartment. But why now? “Jackson’s parents are here!” he mumbled nervously, not particularly wanting to buzz them in.

“Oh, lovely!” Katy shot back, oblivious. “Ah! Someone is just coming out. We’ll see you in a second!”

“No, wait!” Aiden tried to shout back, but it was already too late.

A brief knock came at the door seconds later and in strolled Katy with the enormous Gaz behind her; both of them carrying giant bags of food.

“I’m so sorry!” Aiden exclaimed, ignoring his sister and racing into the living room as fast as he could. “My sister and her husband have arrived.” He looked across at Jackson, expecting him to be annoyed by the intrusion during this sensitive time, but instead, his face lit up in delight. He jumped off his seat and headed out of sight to greet them both.

“Mom, Dad, this is Katy, Aiden’s sister,” Jackson explained as Katy suddenly appeared from around the corner, waving politely. “And this is her husband, my best buddy, Gaz.”

It never got dull, watching people’s jaws drop whenever they saw the size of Aiden’s brother-in-law. Gaz trotted in, making for the couch. “Budge up!” the gruff boy ordered, already knowing that it was going to be a squeeze to fit him on there alongside Jackson’s slender mom and dad. He hovered his wide, hippo-like backside for a moment, just giving the pair enough time to frantically slide to the side, then he dropped his enormous body down and sighed in relief that the couch hadn’t buckled underneath him. “That’s better!” he smiled, grunting as he reached for the TV remote and put the football on, with no intention of making boring small talk.

“Who brought the ice queen?” Katy joked as she headed into the kitchen with Aiden. “Judging by the look on her face, I’m guessing she’s not seen Jackson since his tits started coming in?”

“I was hoping it wouldn’t be too obvious with that t-shirt,” Aiden whispered back.

“Oh, honey, no!” Katy laughed. “There’s no hiding those things. His double chin is really starting to look good too as well, huh?” she smiled. “You’re doing an awesome job!”

“I don’t think Jackson’s parents see it quite that way. Jackson’s just been kicked out of college!”

“That’s why we came,” Katy nodded, having already heard all about it from Gaz. She began unloading the bags she and Gaz had brought in with them, filled with tasty treats that would soon refill the cupboards and refrigerator. “We thought we could cheer up old Fatso in there,” she smirked.

Aiden felt a knot of worry in his stomach.

“I didn’t know you got a new pet rabbit,” Katy teased, chuckling at the contents of Aiden’s own solitary shopping bag. The girl had definitely arrived with her own agenda. “I’m ordering in some Chinese,” she announced to them all, heading into the living room next and standing behind the couch. She leaned over her husband’s vast shoulders, kissed the back of his sweaty head and rested her arms on his enormous chest. “I know Gaz wants the banquet feast,” she declared proudly. “What about everyone else?”

Jackson’s parents immediately refused, looking decidedly awkward.

“What about you, Jackson?” Katy asked. “You’re not going to make my husband eat all by himself, are you?”

“Actually, Jackson is trying to cut down a little,” his mother replied for him.

At this, Gaz laughed mockingly. “You’re not, are you?” he asked Jackson, summoning all the teenage peer pressure that he could. “Are you going on a diet?” he teased, pretending to find the notion to be nothing short of hilarious.

Jackson shrugged, flushing with a little embarrassment. “Not really,” he replied, glancing awkwardly to the side at his parents.

“Order him the same as me,” Gaz instructed his wife. “He almost finished it all last time.”

Katy nodded. “Good idea. We’ll also qualify for the discount if we order over a certain amount.”

All eyes seemed to fall on Aiden, waiting for him to speak next. This process of encouragement had been like a relay race, with the baton being passed from Gaz, to Katy, and now onto him. He swallowed awkwardly. “I suppose we will need to think about beefing you up now you’ve got your new security job,” he nodded at his boyfriend. “Order him some fries on the side as well,” he instructed his sister, finding his confidence once more. “He loves the fries from there.”

Even more sour faced, Jackson’s parents sat back, outnumbered and not wanting to make a scene, despite silently fuming. Gaz and Jackson talked across to each other as they commented on the football, supping the beers that Katy had brought them and relaxing more and more. Gaz was an undeniable slob, burping up the gas from his beer and stretching out his arm onto the back of the couch, despite how obviously uncomfortable he was making the other two as his fat belly peeked out from under his t-shirt.

“I think we’ll find somewhere else to stay tonight,” Jackson’s dad finally declared as a mountain of Chinese food was delivered to his son. “It’s a little crowded in here,” he grumbled, looking at the enormous size of Gaz as he began gorging himself.

“If you’re sure?” Aiden smiled, getting up to let them both out. Had getting rid of them really been that simple? He followed them to the door, feeling like he would soon be able to breathe at last. “They’re gone!” he shouted after he saw the elevator close behind them.

There was an audible cheer from the lounge area and by the time Aiden made it back inside, both of the boys had slipped off their shirts as if to celebrate. Fresh beers were opened and the quiet sense of competition began between the pair of them.

“You’ve done a great job on his capacity,” Katy nodded in approval, seeing how much Jackson was holding his own against her monstrous husband. “What did you train him on?” she asked.

“Whole milk,” Aiden explained proudly. “We did a full daily gallon for a while.”

“Nice!” Gaz nodded at his pal, continuing to eat across the way from him.

“There’s some fresh ice cream melting for you boys in the kitchen when you finish,” Katy poked her husband to remind him, so that he didn’t let himself drift off afterwards.

“Relax!” Gaz laughed. “I won’t fall asleep. We’re celebrating! You’ll find it a lot easier to gain now you’re not studying,” he told Jackson. “I absolutely ballooned after college. No more assignments, exams and stress.”

“I think that’s what my parents are worried about,” Jackson laughed.

“Fuck them!” Katy spat back uncompromisingly. “They’re the reason we came down,” she continued, looking pointedly at her little brother. “You need to learn to not take shit from them: Your house, your rules, your pig,” she stated, expressing herself using her hands, much like a politician.

“He did get there in the end,” Gaz added, standing up for his small brother-in-law. “That bit about feeding him up for his new job was hilarious!”

Aiden nodded, taking all the notes on-board. He really had gone about this the wrong way. But no more. Jackson had always loved the fact that he was so merciless in fattening him up. So why had he made such an effort to disguise his true intentions to the boy’s parents? Especially when they were so rude and hostile in response. The truth was, Aiden was more than done with playing nice.

By the time Jackson’s parents arrived the next morning, the two gluttons had gorged themselves on a small mountain of pastries. Gaz sat in the same spot on the couch, only in the underwear he had slept in. Jackson sat beside him, playing a video game on a retro console the big man had brought along with him. It was only ten in the morning, yet the pair of them were already on their second beer.

Jackson’s parents looked on with disapproval, having clearly hoped that Gaz and Katy would have gone home by then. When Gaz won the race on the screen, the big man hooted in triumph and insisted that Jackson down his beer as punishment. Meanwhile, Aiden took delight in setting down a large bowl of potato chips, as well as dips, for the pair of them.

“Are you two staying for dinner?” Aiden asked. “Katy is roasting some meats and making a giant meal before they both leave later.”

“My wife is a very good cook,” Gaz winked at the pair of them, grabbing a little roll of his belly fat as his evidence, before he started the next game with Jackson.

“Don’t worry,” Aiden smiled. “She’s teaching me everything she knows. I’ll soon be able to cook for Jackson just like she does.”

Aiden’s mother smiled politely, her lips thin and awkward. “We won’t be staying,” she replied.

“We were hoping Jackson would come home with us for a few days,” announced his dad, realising that they were unlikely to get their son alone to explain this to him privately.

“But I start my new job on Wednesday,” Jackson shrugged as the countdown for the race began on the screen.

“Well, we’ll talk about that in the car on the way home,” his dad mumbled patronisingly. “Go and get a bag ready.”

“Jackson, honey,” Aiden smiled, rubbing his boyfriend’s back as the guy became engrossed in the new race. “You don’t want to go home, do you?”

“No,” Jackson replied, entirely focused on trying to catch up to Gaz’s car.

“Ha! You’re fucked now!” Gaz laughed crudely, whizzing ahead on the screen.

“Jackson, I really think that you should consider this carefully,” his mother tried, sensing that her husband was failing to make any impact as everyone’s attention stayed fixed on the screen. “You can’t continue making all these poor choices!”

“Oh, shit! Not again!” Jackson growled, seeing his car skid out of control and into the barrier.

“Put it in reverse, honey!” Aiden insisted, pretending to be interested. “You can still do this!”

“Jackson, I really think enough is enough!” his father stated next; his voice a little louder and more serious.

“YES!” shouted Gaz loudly, crossing the finish line with a spectacular lead. He leaned his enormous, fat body over Jackson and playfully pretended to punch him in his chubby middle again and again. “Get that beer down you!” he demanded as his prize.

“Go on, honey,” Aiden laughed. “Rules are rules!”

Jackson’s parents looked at each other as their son downed yet another beer and burped up the gas in much the same way as his repulsively obese friend beside him. They watched as Jackson rubbed his bloated stomach and moaned in amusement, cracking open a can of soda instead. Aiden smirked as he could see the hope in their eyes suddenly wither away and die.

Jackson was lost to them.

“What is it about you ex-football players and getting huge butts as soon as you finish playing?” Aiden laughed a few weeks later as he watched his naked, thick-thighed, over three hundred pound lover strutting back into the bedroom.

“Dunno!” Jackson shrugged, comically trying to twist his significantly overfed body so that he could attempt to take a look at the gigantic glutes behind him. “I guess it’s all that old muscle turning into fat. Since the holidays, I’ve really been feeling a difference back there.”

“You don’t say!” Aiden chuckled. The changes during the winter months had been really quite dramatic for a while there. Considering the fact that Jackson had only been purposefully gaining weight for just over a year, his shape was now entirely different. It was especially obvious when his shirt was off and all the more thrilling to observe. Despite the pounds and pounds of fat, it was still clear that it was all built upon a solid base: a good frame and plenty of previous muscle that shaped it all in a pleasing fashion. Rather than a soft, sagging belly, Jackson had a stout, rounded gut. His chest was dominated by fattened pecs and his muscular arms had now been coated in an insulating layer of fat, making them larger than ever before. It was obvious, from the way Jackson held himself and swaggered about, that he had never felt so masculine in his life. With his great height and build, he could still take this so much further. Perhaps, after years of training for football, building mass had been hard-wired into his brain on an endlessly rewarding feedback loop. Still handsome with his double chin, he’d continued to have girls trying to flirt with him on campus, but even they had now changed: chubby, obese girls who clearly weren’t having the sex life college had promised them. It was the security guard uniform that did it for them, no doubt, Aiden would joke, poking his overwight lover in his protrusive stomach.

Aiden had to smile, seeing Jackson’s slight erection as he excitedly slipped on his new larger underwear; a brand that Gaz had recommended to stop chafing, and one that only catered for fat guys. “These feel so much better!” he exclaimed, admiring his overweight physique in the mirror. “I’m never going back to normal underwear again.”

Aiden simply nodded and held back a chuckle. Jackson wasn’t really fat enough to fill them properly yet, nor appreciate the many ways they better supported obese men. Still, he was enjoying believing that he was; his own little fat fantasy. Even though he had learned to slob out when he got home and he could gorge himself just as well as a pig like Gaz, his body still wasn’t there quite yet. “How’re the work pants fitting at the moment?” Aiden asked, picking them up from the floor for Jackson to wear.

“They’re getting super tight!” Jackson grinned, taking them and manoeuvring his large feet down and inside the legs.

Aiden watched on sceptically. His horny, fat boy tended to have a habit of exaggerating. They were zipped and buttoned up, yet Aiden was still able to push three fingers under the waistband. “I think we’re about to hit a plateau with your weight. These should definitely be tighter by now,” he declared, tapping his boyfriend on his heavy backside.

“You serious?” Jackson asked, spinning to get a good look at himself in the mirror again. “You think my gains are slowing down?”

“Don’t worry. This sort of thing happens. It’s not so easy to fatten once the cold weather ends; complacency sets in,” Aiden shrugged. “I’ll double your calorie shake mix before bed.”

Jackson’s eyes bulged. “What? Wow!” he swooned, instantly getting aroused. “Doubling it? Seriously?” He pulled Aiden into him, as if wanting to check on his face that he wasn’t joking. “Do you realise what that would do to me?” he asked.

Aiden nodded. “Of course I do. It’s about time we started the big push towards three fifty.”

“Oh, man… when you talk like this…” Jackson mumbled, already moving to unbutton his pants with his chubby hands, so horny they were almost quivering.

“There’s no time,” Aiden smirked, stopping him in his tracks. “Your shift starts in ten minutes and I’ve got to get to class.”

“Are you really going to double my shake tonight?” Jackson asked with desperate lust.

“Yes,” Aiden smiled, collecting his books from the side.

Jackson moaned with a horny lust he knew he could do nothing about until later. The sound of it made Aiden smirk as he led the way out, knowing that his fat boy’s appetite today was already spinning into overdrive. That vending machine at his work was about to get very well used!

Aiden’s father had cooled dramatically in his enthusiasm towards Jackson by the following summer. A college drop out, fat, lazy and far too greedy for his own good; he’d adopted the same shortness with him as he gave Gaz. The fact that Jackson wasn’t picking up another job during the summer period really seemed to infuriate him as well; with his large tummy only swelling outwards as he lived off Aiden and slobbed about in the apartment above the garage.

“Doesn’t this make you miss playing football?” asked Aiden’s father as he sat down on the small chair in his lounge and caught Jackson watching some of the classic NFL moments from last season.

“No,” Jackson laughed, dipping his hand into his giant bowl of potato chips as Aiden sorted through their washing. “It just makes me remember why I quit!”

The older man shook his head in disapproval. “Katy’s husband always says the same thing when I ask,” he grumbled. “Fancy the pair of you just giving it up like that. You’re both such strange boys,” he mumbled, almost to himself.

“Well, I was the only one who quit,” Jackson corrected him. “Gaz got kicked off during his final year in college. I think he’d put on too much weight by then.”

“Oh, you think?” Aiden’s father shot back sarcastically. “Now he doesn’t even walk himself to work. Can you believe that? He gets Katy to drop him off, or gets a cab. It’s three blocks from their new apartment!”

“It’s still quite a walk,” Aiden jumped in, automatically defending his brother-in-law.

“It’s embarrassing is what it is!” his dad snapped back. “He’s broken three of your mother’s antique dining room chairs in the last year, the fat lump!” He took a sideways look at Jackson’s gut, unable to deny the bizarre similarities between his two children’s choice in partners.

“They’re very old chairs, though,” Aiden tried, handing Jackson a fresh beer and enjoying the fact that his dad was so easily wound up.

“Yes! Old and very expensive to repair!” the older man almost shouted.

Jackson’s head turned to look at the dining chairs. Only one pristine seat remained of the old set. Aiden knew exactly what he was thinking and he was more than happy with the plan that was formulating in the greedy boy’s mind. But if Jackson was going to annihilate the last chair, he’d need to up his weight by quite a good amount. “Wow, it’s hot today!” he exclaimed, leaning over the back of the couch to rest his hands on Jackson’s giant chest. “How about some ice cream?” He kissed the fat man on his ear; their silent love language that let Jackson know that Aiden had also seen the chair that needed breaking. “I’ll go pick up some supplies from the supermarket.”

Although the challenge was set, it took a further six months to achieve; with Jackson’s enormous rear finally sending the chair crashing down the day after New Year. Aiden’s mother had been in tears, whilst Jackson himself was taken back to the apartment and given the best blow job of his life.

“I told you I could do it!” he boasted, settling down with a large bucket of ice cream afterwards. His mood was nothing short of triumphant. He merrily gorged himself in reward, despite knowing that his daily calorie shakes would still need taking down soon. Then, dropping his spoon and tub to the floor, he grabbed Aiden’s hand and sent it on a guided tour of his larger gut. “Are you proud?” he asked.

“Very much so!” Aiden smiled, sitting himself on the limited remaining space on Jackson’s knee and kissing him sweetly. “There’s no repairing that sort of break. It was like it exploded!”

Jackson’s grin was wider than ever. He’d want to talk about this success for weeks to come. “Maybe now you’ll consider marrying me?” he asked for the hundredth time. Having grown so large and contrasting to Aiden, he’d suddenly become fixated by the idea.

Aiden chuckled and shook his head. “We can’t afford that yet. Especially now you’ve lost your job,” he teased; still finding it funny that Jackson had been getting away with sneaking off to gorge himself on fast food during his night shifts for so long. Still, having Jackson as a stay at home fat boy for the last few weeks had been a surprisingly kinky revelation for both of them.

“Oh, come on. We’re going to be rolling in it soon enough!” Jackson countered. “Your sister is already creating a bespoke job for you as soon as you finish college. And you know I can fatten up on the inheritance money from my grandma until then,” he chuckled.

“I’m sure that’s just what she had in mind when she left it to you,” Aiden joked.

Jackson smirked. “Well, that’s just too bad!” he sniggered. “She was always such a bitch to us. It serves her right. And, it’s either that, or get another job, which…” he chuckled, “...doesn’t especially appeal to me, now I’ve seen how quickly I can gain weight when I don’t have to get up and go to work. I never would have gotten myself over three eighty this Christmas without all that extra time to eat and sit on my fat butt.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Aiden nodded, sliding his hands up and down the mighty chest and belly of his lover.

“So let’s get married then,” Jackson grinned. “Wouldn’t it be so fun heading for breakfast with your parents tomorrow; the morning after I upset them both by breaking that antique chair, and announcing that they’re getting yet another fat slob in the family?”

Aiden laughed and nodded his head. “That certainly would be a very amusing time to do it,” he agreed. He considered the prospect some more. “Perhaps… if it was a long engagement…” he teased. “And you agreed that you’re far too skinny for us to be considering setting an actual date yet…”

Jackson's face was a picture of erotic delight, as if he was living out his favourite fantasy of all. He wasn’t the only one, either. It had been clear since the moment they first kissed that Aiden wouldn’t find anyone else so perfectly suited to him. This was it.

“I can see you had a good night last night,” Katy smirked at her new brother-in-law as she entered the lavish honeymoon suite two years later and picked up Jackson’s enormous pants, folding them neatly on the back of a chair like a woman who was well used to tidying up after her own giant husband.

“I’m amazed you didn’t break the bed!” Gaz laughed, following in behind her and heading to sit in the wide chair to chat to his buddy, Jackson, as he sat up in bed; overfed and oversexed the morning after the wedding. “That was quite some show you put on eating so much of that wedding cake!” he teased, patting his buddy on his leg, both out of pride and sympathy for how much of a drunken glutton he had made of himself in front of everyone.

Jackson laughed at himself. “I’d had quite a few beers by that point. I just though, ‘fuck it’, it’s my wedding day. If I want to eat half a cake to myself, I will do.”

Katy laughed and winked at her brother. “He’s definitely a keeper, this little piggy!” She then busied herself, explaining to Aiden about everything that had been done to ensure nothing was going to be forgotten after the reception last night. “The cake has all been boxed up and put in that bag there,” she pointed. “All the decorations are either in our car, or mom and dad’s. Aunt Sally told me to tell you how handsome you looked yesterday. She actually hit it off quite well with one of Jackson’s cousins, but I’ll save that story until you get back!”

Aiden thanked her, as the two fat men sat chatting. The over five hundred pound Jackson was completely comfortable without his shirt on in front of them all; incredible amounts of fat in his chest spreading onto his lap from his bulbous gut in much the same way it did fof Gaz. But Katy was in a rush and the pair did not stay too long, heading off and wishing them well on their honeymoon.

“Alone again!” Aiden smirked, closing the door once more and removing his clothes seductively.

The fat man growled in kinky approval and slid his fat body a little down the bed. “Bring that leftover cake,” he pointed at one of the bags that had just been delivered. “I’ve only got until tomorrow morning to break this bed,” he grinned. “This fat boy is about to show you something very special…”

#gainer stories #gainerstory #gayfeedee #gainerfic #gainerstories #gainer story #gayfeeder #gainer fiction #gay feedee #gainer fic

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gyuswhore · 3 days

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Never Shall We Die (1)

«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »»

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool? The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows. Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.

GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final]: 15.8k

@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tagin following parts

[AN]: thank you so much to @highvern for betaing for me and helping out with the plot so much, this fic would not exist if it weren't for her!!!! and thank you reader!!! for clicking on this and reading it, this one's been about 7 months in the works and I would love to hear what your thoughts are when you're done, plsplspls leave a rb or a reply with your brainrot lol <3 happy reading

HOSHI’S BOOT IS STUCK in the ground.

No, that’s a branch.

Or is it a plank?

He doesn’t try to find out as he yanks his foot out of whatever stopped him from moving. A tree root, he finds as he kicks the remnants of jungle rubbish from the surface of the shrouded root. He kicks it to satisfy himself.

His crew resides on the beach; where he can see them attempt to build a fire before sundown, the mound of discombobulated twigs making up most of the sad pile of wood. Hoshi trudges up to it and drops another handful of puny branches into the mix.

Exhaling loudly as Mingyu calls for him, he falls to his bottom and sits cross legged on the sand. Mingyu trudges up next to him to inspect his pile, sighing when he realised this was all he had to work with. He picks up two hefty looking stones and begins to strike them together, putting his faith in the primitive fire.

Hoshi stares into the horizon, watching the died down waves drift onto the shore, moving closer by the minute.

Hoshi thinks, which he can’t say is something that he does very often. Perhaps that’s why he was sat on this nature-overrun island as a shipless captain of his shipless crew. He chews on his tongue as he thinks of his Tigress, his beloved hunk of wood and metal; the beloved hunk of wood and metal that he could not see on the shoreline, because she was taken by the royal navy.

He wonders if Tigress would ever forgive him for letting that happen to her, for letting those clean, soft handed soldiers rip her away from his grasp.

Hoshi needs to start thinking more often.

Mingyu is frantic over the small flame that erupts in the middle of his leaves, dropping his rocks to blow into the fire, encouraging it to grow.

“Captain, it’s done! We can rustle up those fish we caught, have supper sorted.”

“Hm.”

The bustle of the entire crew lasts until night has fallen and they’ve gotten food in their stomachs. Hoshi hasn’t moved from his spot for hours, something the others noticed very quickly, but decided not to mention for fear of waking something dangerous. They understood he was suffering from a broken heart.

It isn’t until the first of the crew had begun to doze off that Hoshi speaks. Chan is propped up against a tree while Seungkwan and Jeonghan laugh at the dangerously low coconut that hangs above his head. Mingyu readjusts his trousers after a full meal. Minghao stretches onto the sand, feet facing the water.

His voice isn’t loud, nor is it commanding, nor does it have his usual edge of jest—in fact, it sounds nothing like Hoshi at all.

Or does it?

“Who wants to steal a ship?”

YOU'RE AWOKEN BY THE sound of yelling. Which is never a good sign in any case, but especially not when it’s pitch black outside and you’re on a ship in the middle of the ocean.

The grogginess is quick to fade as you try to understand what’s going on outside your quarters. Your room isn’t a mess, all the trinkets and royal seals remaining in their places on the walls and shelves. Nor is the ship lurching or moving in odd angles to indicate an unexpected spat from the skies. A quick peek outside the window shows you clear, calm water amidst the mostly dark expanse of ocean.

There is only one other answer in your head that would cause this much commotion—especially on a boat where the admiral resides (and a princess).

Slipping out of the covers, your feet hit the cool hardwood floors of your quarters, a small shiver going through your spine from the cold, with nothing to cover you but your thin nightgown. You’re in the middle of tying your robe to see what the ruckus was about outside when a particularly loud thud hits outside of your door. You immediately freeze.

Staring at the doorknob, you attempt to move backwards in the space, heart beating faster as you watch the knob move slightly. The back of your knees hit the bedside table with a thud, the sound has you gasp out loud. Whoever it was outside your door jiggles the knob harder, the force exerted having you scan the room for something you could use as a weapon.

Spotting the letter opener on your desk, you lurch across the room to grab it, holding it in front of you as you back away from the door. The knob continues to bang against the wood as you refuse to take eyes off of it. There’s sounds of men outside, loud and rambunctious, momentarily halting the grievances.

Until the knob moves again, slower this time, a light click that could be heard as it unlocks itself, opening into the low light of your quarters.

You recognise the frazzled looking soldier at your door.

“Lieutenant,” you voice in recognition. “What’s going on?”

He eyes the letter opener that you hold defiantly in front of you from across the room, and it has you retracting your force slightly.

“Pirates, your Highness,” he breathes out. “We must get you to lower deck—”

“Where is the Admiral? The Captain?” you ask as you take a couple steps forward.

“They’re handling the situation, your High–”

An arm has come up behind the soldier that pulls him into a headlock, a swift pull to have him dragged away from your vision. You would’ve gasped if your voice hadn’t been caught in your throat, refusing to make itself known as fear brews in the pit of your stomach. Your hold on your makeshift weapon is tighter than ever before, yet you doubt how it’s going to help you as the culprit finally steps over something to appear in your doorframe.

His clothes are in a disarray; slashed, torn and covered in grime. There’s a deadly looking machete in one hand, the blood that coats it has you eyeing the trail that drips onto his hand and on the floor. His forearms are perched up on the doorframe as he inspects you, tongue to cheek as he stares.

Threatened as you feel, there was less hunger in his gaze as you had expected, more like he was trying to figure out who you were. He eyes your tiny letter opener you hold like a knife and lets out a little exhale you think might be a laugh. It has you gripping the handle impossibly tighter. The man moves his face into the hallway, to where you know the staircase to the main deck is.

“Hoshi!” he yells loudly. “How’s this for bait?”

Your back is pressed inexplicably against the wall, wanting to sink into the wooden boards as you attempt to gain your bearings amongst the nauseous bouts of mortification that surge through you. Your only exit is blocked.

No. You have one more option.

The sound of more men bounding down the hall has you praying there were more soldiers here, but the calm regard the man has for the approaching people has your heart sink to the depths of this very ocean itself.

More faces peer into the room, men with the same haphazard, grimey clothing complete with equally sinister weapons in their grasps. One of the men breaks out into the biggest grin as he lays his eyes on you. You nearly throw up.

For the first time in your life, you wish you’d listened to your father.

“Jun, you savvy motherfucker,” the grinning man explodes, slapping the man who found you on the back.

Another voice speaks from behind him, “Ships cleared, captain.”

“Perfect. Bring a spring upon ‘er. Get as far away from those cleans as you can, let them fend for themselves in a tiny boat for once.”

Captain. The grinning, stupid looking one is their captain.

He regards the rest of his crew as he finally steps through the threshold, waving them away as he enters your quarters.

It was taking everything out of you to not buckle your knees as you stood, every step he takes is turning your strength into dust. He keeps his eyes on you, eyes on your sorry excuse of a weapon. He registers the mix of fear and determination in your eyes.

He stops a few feet away from you, looking directly at you past the makeshift knife you hold.

He says nothing as he drops the knife in his own hand to the ground with a loud clang. He removes a pistol, a couple more knives, a grenade and a sword. Weapons drop to the floor one after the other, emerging from all over his body and clothes. All in a pile on the wooden floors. He puts his hands in the air.

“No weapons on me. I merely wish to talk.”

The look on his face is not ordinary, some strange combination of mock innocence and jest. You don’t answer him.

He continues, “You can keep your… scalpel… if you so wish.”

“What did you do to the soldiers?” you finally rasp out.

“They’re not dead, if that's what you’re asking.”

“Yet?” you ask with a slight tremble to your voice.

“They’ve been shoved into a boat with a map and a compass to fend for themselves. I’m not entirely ruthless,” he adds with raised brows and a hint of a smile. “Admiral, were they calling him? You must be his wife.”

“W-what?”

“Oh, guess not. Daughter? Captain’s wife, Captain’s daughter?”

Your previously stagnant brain is now running a derby with all the thoughts galloping across your mind. He doesn’t know who you are. Yet, anyway.

He’s scanning the room now, nodding at the trinkets and trophies scattered across the place. “Can’t imagine giving a lieutenant’s anybody quarters like this.” He circles back on you, eyes sharp. “Who are you, darling?”

You don’t think you have anything that should give you away, but the way he starts pacing the room has your anxiety going through the wooden roof.

He has his back turned to you. You’re not sure if he’s confident or careless considering you could drive your weapon into his back and make a run for it. But then what? By the looks of it there’s an entire crew of pirates pacing the deck. Perhaps the soldiers haven’t gotten that far; they know you’re still on board, they know it’s their heads on a pike if they leave you here.

He’s reached your desk during your thinking, inspecting your stationary, picking at the bejewelled quills and paper weights as he mutters nonsense to himself.

“Oh!” he announces, a little too enthusiastic. “What’s this?”

He brandishes the loose leaf of paper, and you recognise the print on the back immediately. It was a letter from your father, the King.

“How on Earth did you read this, the writing is illegible.” He flips the paper over, double taking when he sees the royal seal on the back. He looks into the letter closer now.

You wait with baited breath.

“The kingdom needs their princess…your father…ah.”

Should you plunge the knife into him anyway? You almost do it, but stop when he begins to turn around to face you again. His eyebrows are raised, a slight hint of exasperation on his face when he begins to laugh a loud, loud cackle.

It’s mortifying, especially when you don’t understand what on earth was so funny to elicit a reaction like that. The man is downright hysterical. He wipes a lone tear from the corner of his eye as he drops the letter back onto the desk.

“W-what’s so funny?” you try to sound brave.

“It seems, miss princess, that we’ve gotten more than we bargained for,” he says, looking straight at you as he sobers up. “You’re the King’s daughter, now, are you? What are the odds the first ship I hop onto with a royal seal slapped on it, held the crown jewel of the kingdom in its gallows.”

And then he starts walking, towards you, for that matter. Imperative because you know for sure that this is how it all ends.

You know you still have your one last option, the option that is now pressed against your back as you shimmy to it with miniscule movements. The window is cool on your hand that rests on the glass, you know the lamp will be enough to break it, enough for you to push through and fall into the abyss of the dark, dark sea. He knows who you are now, and you’d rather drown than die at the hands of a pirate—or go through whatever it was that’s curling the minds of all the men on this ship.

He takes another step forward, hands on his hips. “He’s not going to like this, is he? His dear daughter in the hands of the Kingdom’s favourite degenerate captain.”

What?

He then adds in a whisper to himself mostly, “Or least favourite with all the wanted posters off the churches and brothels.”

Hoshi. Hoshi. Hoshi.

The man who had found you had called him Hoshi. Hoshi the pirate. Hoshi the pirate that’s been giving the Kingdom and its court absolute hell for as long as you can remember.

The man that you are now trapped alone with on a ship is the most feared pirate the Kingdom has ever seen.

You don’t doubt your face has gone grey, feeling your breathing turn near erratic. “Oh God.”

He smiles wryly as the life is sucked out of your very soul.

This was bad. Very bad.

“Now, fear not, you will soon be returned to daddy dearest,” he places a mildly dramatic hand over his heart. “Pirate’s honour.”

He paces back to pluck the letter off the table, pocketing it. “All you need to do is relax and tell me a few things so we can part ways as soon—”

“No.” The word blurts out of your mouth before you can stop it, horrified at the thought of giving information to any pirate, let alone this one.

“No?” Hoshi looks genuinely shocked, his eyes wide, eyebrows raised. He laughs a little incredulously, “Oh, I see, can’t tell all the delicate details to a scary ol’ pirate.”

He smiles a little bit, “Worry not, miss princess, we shall only need a few minor details. Just enough to have your father sprinting to get you out of here. We all win.”

He stares at you almost expectantly, and you wonder if you look as confused as you feel.

“Well, I’ll be bidding you goodnight now, I’m sure we’ve interrupted your beauty sleep enough. Rest assured we won’t be bothering you for the rest of the morning.”

Hoshi begins to make his way to the door, picking up his pile of weapons off the floor before wrenching the door open. He’s calm as ever, but your mind is in a disarray.

A ransom, but whatever for? Gold could’ve been retrieved by raiding any ship, and it sounded like he’d chosen to hop on a ship belonging to the navy. Come to think of it, as much of a nuisance this man has proved himself, you don’t remember a case where he’s directly meddled with the Kingdom. All of this can’t just be for gold.

Steeling yourself, you bet your odds against your voice and asked him, “What do you want from my father?”

You watch as he halts in his tracks, halfway through the door as he finally looks over his shoulder. The look on his face has you wanting to break open the window immediately and let the water flood in, once and for all as you take these bastards down with you.

“Your father has something of mine. And I intend to take it back,” he says, before finally slamming the door shut. You hear a shuffle and a thud, and you do not doubt that he’s locked you in.

Your knees give out almost immediately, dropping to the ground as you breathe in quick, shallow breaths. Trying to look past the dizziness, you try not to think about the last thing he’d said before he left, moreso the look on his face as he did.

The first rays of morning sun are beginning to shine through the windows, casting the beginnings of a glow in your quarters. You think of the supposed assurance he had given you, that they wouldn’t hurt you, that they intended to return you.

The thought leads to a faraway memory, yet one that’s tucked itself into a front corner of your mind, you can almost hear your father's voice as he says it; never trust a pirate.

You remain on the floor, and you remain wide awake.

THE SUN IS HIGH in the sky by the time you put your limbs to work.

The first hours after the pirate locked you in your quarters were spent trying to reign yourself to earth. You can’t be entirely sure your soul has come back to your body, but whatever little of it that has landed is whispering some very dangerous things.

The lamp remains, the ornate jewels glinting almost enticingly in the afternoon light. The flame inside it has long died, but you itch to give it another purpose. You don’t note the trembling of your hand as you reach for it, pushing yourself to your feet as you get a feel for the heavy hunk of glass and metal in your hands.

If there was a level of regard before, it disappears when you set eyes on the bright window and the creases of crystal blue water. With all your strength, you don’t think twice when the lamp makes hard contact, a loud thud erupting as a result, but no damage when you pull away.

You go again, harder this time, and only vaguely register the glass of the lamp that shatters into your hands. Gripping the metal bit tighter, you swing for the third time, pulling back for the strongest blow yet.

A hand wraps around your elbow and you’re yanked backwards, landing on the floor. There’s a kick at your hand that’s flown into the air, the one that holds the bludgeoned lamp. It goes flying across the room as you retract your hand into yourself.

You don’t register a thing as you’re suddenly being pulled back up to your feet. Face to face with the pirate captain, your soul finally clicking back into place.

“Didn’t think I scared you this bad.” He’s made a joke, but all you can see is his face that’s a mask of rage.

The initial instinct is to move away, pulling your elbow out of his grasp in an attempt to flee. You fail as he tightens his grip to a painful degree, hauling you towards the ajar door of the quarters.

It’s only then that you realise that there’s more people in the room.You note another big, burly man next to the window you just assaulted, inspecting it with another shorter man. You don’t get to note more as you’re pulled into the narrow hallway, begging the saints he doesn’t take the turn towards the lower decks. Instead you find he leads you upstairs to where the main deck is.

Walk the plank? Did navy ships have planks to walk on? Not that you’d mind too much, you were trying to drown yourself and this ship in any case. But then there’s a settle of dread in the pit of your stomach, realising death may be the most merciful thing this man could give you.

The pirate captain pushes you against a mast, one of his other minions rushing in with coils of rope on his shoulder. The sun beats down on the deck, not a gust of reprieve from the wind.

“Keep the ropes tight, she’s got less wit than I’d thought,” the pirate captain says with a grunt, huffing as he lets go of you. He takes a few steps away, hands at his hips, the image of vexation.

The person who ties the cords around your hands whispers slowly, “Stop moving.”

But you can’t, not when the panic is near the lip, not when all the possibilities are flashing gore filled images into your vision. It's scary to blink.

“Why won’t you let me die?” you ask to the back that’s turned.

He turns around, not even bothering hiding the exasperation that paints his face, mouth opening furiously before closing again. “Why won’t—Because you were trying to take us all with you!”

“Kill me!” you all but scream. “They won’t know till you’ve gotten what you want, I’d rather be dead than let you try whatever’s brewing in all your sick heads!”

He’s silent for a moment, noting your defiant gaze, your pull against the ropes, the heaving of your chest. Taking a few steps forward, Hoshi seems to be attempting to bring the boil in his blood to a low simmer, “Listen, princess. We’re pirates alright, but me and my crew, we keep to ourselves. If your daddy the king hadn’t decided to meddle and steal my fucking ship, you would’ve been home in your pretty palace, asleep in your bed of gold by now.”

The pirate captain’s face is closer than you’d ever be comfortable with, seething in a way that has you pressing further into the mast. “We may be degenerates but we keep our own morals, as twisted as your people heed them to be.”

When he finally pulls away, you take a breath and thank the air that simply exists, eyes downcast as you attempt to look braver than you feel.

“I’m not pushing you overboard. I’ve duped your people once, they’ll be more prepared next time. We need you alive while you’re in our hands.”

“How are you going to summon a ransom? You sent away your only messengers,” you ask, a sad attempt at a mock, but also because you wanted to know what his plan was.

“Your useless Admiral’s taken up that job.”

“By lifeboat? You’ve left them all for dead, how do you expect this genius plan to work?”

“They could’ve swam to shore if it came to it, we were close enough.”

“How are you so sure?” you spit.

“Do I need to gag you too?” he gives you one last irritated look before stalking off towards the lower deck. You’re left alone in the cooling afternoon heat, the sound of the sea keeping your ears company along with your own slowing breaths.

Everything he said has a good enough chance to be a complete and utter lie. Never trust a pirate. No weapon to cut yourself out of your impossibly tight binds, nothing to protect you or give you reassurance besides a pirate’s word—the worst pirate’s word.

Your battered thinking leads you straight through the setting of the sun, the orange glow of the sky shrouding the ship in the dreamiest backdrop while you live what you can only sum as a nightmare. Perhaps not, for you doubt your mind could ever conjure up a terror like this.

This was life, the most terrifying nightmare of all.

Having managed to wiggle your tied hands downwards, you had seated yourself with your head against the wood of the mast, staring into the translucent skies. So much freedom that taunts you in its illusion of proximity, yet so far still.

There’s murmurs below deck, the only semblance of life you’ve heard in the past few hours after the stupid pirate captain stormed off. It seems to be on the stairs, a heated argument.

“Obviously this wasn’t part of the plan, the chances were supposed to be zero to absolutely none. We landed with that scumbag’s successor, that’s just our piss luck and nothing more.”

“You wanted a woman for bait, this should work the same.”

“Hao, I wanted a woman for bait to trigger a lukewarm reaction, this princess could either doom us all or make our job a fat punch easier, and I’m not betting on the latter.”

There’s a pause.

“If only she’d cut it with the random hysterics and creepy-staring-at-the-sky we could actually get something useful out of her.”

“Pray that window holds up or any chance of a miracle is gone to the wind.”

It’s like you’ve woken up with the way the stupid idea begins to form in your head. You think of your father, the kind of man he is, the kind of ruler he is. All the ‘if’s are guiding you to a conclusion. One that gives you a fighting chance, one that may go beyond this massive navy ship and clear into the rest of your life—if you make it that far anyway.

Your father and his men would come, give this unhinged pirate what he desires so dearly, you know that for sure. But you also know it wouldn’t be for you, but for the crown that’s destined to fall upon your cursed head.

If it’s his ship that he wants…

The next time you see one of the pirate captain’s goons on the deck, you ask for an audience.

“DID YOUR STUPID FATHER drop you on your head as a baby?”

Hoshi stands before you under the light of the midnight moon, an incredulous expression on his face. You try to keep the scowl off your own but it proves difficult when his voice pierces your skull.

You ignore him from your position on the floor, “I know my father, and I know he loathes you enough to finally want you and your incompetent crew gone for good.”

He scratches his chin, “Can’t be that incompetent if he hates us so much.”

“I can help you.”

“You were ready to die than to be on the same ship as us a few hours ago. What’s changed?”

“Perspective,” you shrug in an attempt to remain nonchalant.

“Are you gonna go back to wailing in the morning then?”

God, this was going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

“You want your ship back and you were hoping for someone less important to exchange it for. But you’re stuck with me and you know it’s not going to end well for you. You need my help.”

“Why so merciful, miss princess? Are you not on your father’s side?”

You gulp as discreetly as possible.

“I want something in exchange.”

He raises his eyebrows, staring at you to continue.

“I want you to kill my father.”

If his eyebrows were raised before, they’ve broken for the skies now. He leans his head back, eyes closing for a moment before reopening, reigning back to you before asking very gracefully, “What?”

“I want you to kill my father.”

“No, I got that bit,” he snaps. “Your father as in, the King?”

“Yes, as you’ve pointed out far more times than anyone ever has.” You can’t help but roll your eyes despite the weight of the situation and the hammering in your chest.

He stares at you in an expression you can’t quite read, and it unsettles you deeply. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve gravely miscalculated, watching as he moves around the mast you’re tied to. Out of the corner of your eye you see the metal glint of a dagger, and you nearly short circuit.

Is he about to cut your hands off?

You feel a distinct tug at your wrists, the sound of slicing, and the voice in your head asking why it didn’t hurt.

Suddenly your hands are free, intact and free as you achingly bring them in front of you, wincing audibly at the pain of moving them after so long.

“You can jump into the water if you’d like, I won’t stop you.” He walks back over, sitting cross legged opposite you, at eye level.

“What?”

“You’ve clearly gone mad, I’ll find another way to get my ship back.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Of course, and I utterly enjoy having a kingdom’s worth of blood on my hands. Shall I take the entirety of the court down while we’re at it? Carry out a fucking waltz with Jack Ketch?”

“Why are you acting like you’re above murder? Another part of your strange moral code?”

“No, no, not above it at all. But I like my head and rather not have it guillotined. They might skim over the death of some too-nosy soldier but I doubt they’d leave me be after I put a bullet between the King’s eyes.”

“I’ll protect you.”

He looks at you for a moment, “Quite reassuring.”

You sit up straighter, licking your lips as you prepare yourself. “My father isn’t a good man.”

The pirate captain snorts, “Oh, I’m well aware.”

You try not to stare too hard at the still unsheathed dagger that he digs into the floorboards, knifing out splinters in disregard.

“My father doesn’t want me home, he wants the crown home. He wants me to be a carbon copy of himself, he wants to be in control long after he’s gone.” You try not to grind your teeth too hard but it’s difficult when your father’s face burns behind your eyelids. “I want control over the throne, full control.”

“And your conclusion is to eliminate him.”

“I don’t have another choice.”

“Then what? You’ll pardon me and my crew after we get our hands dirty for you?” he asks, eyes wide in mock hope.

“Yes. You can do whatever it is that you sail about doing and no one will be of bother. I might ask you for sparing favours. For a wage of course. But other than that, you can live as lawlessly as you wish.”

“You’re asking me to become your personal lackey?”

“Having a queen’s favour is no small feat I hope you’re aware. Besides, it's a leap better than the hoops you’ve been jumping through during my father’s reign.”

You realised his face had been shrouded by the dark between your negotiating and the clouds that had veiled the moon. Every moment that was supposed to strengthen your understanding of the man that sat across from you only brought you more confusion.

“You want your ship and freedom of land and sea,” you continue when it’s silent for a beat too long. “I only ask for a small favour in return.”

“I’d argue the miniscule nature of what you’re asking from me,” he scoffs.

“Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line.”

There crawls in the silence once again, the same one that seems to grab you by the throat for every moment that ticks past undisturbed.

“We’ll have to see to that,” he says, huffing as he gets back on his boot clad feet. You follow him with your eyes as he walks towards the creaky stairs that lead to the lower deck, utterly confused.

“Where are you going?” you ask, bewildered at his strange behaviour.

Turning around, just as he had a mere day ago in your quarters and you feel yourself suppressing a shudder. “I have a crew to consult.”

So he was considering it.

“But you’re the captain.”

“And?”

THE SKY IS A lighter sheen of blue, leaning towards the premature hours of the morning. He’d left you untied, and as you gaze into the duned waters in the minimal light, the urge to jump in and create a ripple that goes beyond just the water is less tempting than you’d thought. The prospect of having a dead father, and a dead king, was enough to snap you out of your hysteria despite it being a plot of your own devising.

You’ve been alone for a while, little indication that there was other life on this ship at all with the lack of human activity. There wasn’t much that you knew of sailing or ship handling, but leaving the deck unmanned for this long gave you the vague impression that you were on a vessel with poor practising pirates. If they’d thought you’d be equipped to handle any hiccups, they’d either find out the hard way, or whenever it was that you could find the wit to bring it up to the pirate captain and his strangely attached crew.

Something that sounds distinctly like boots are thudding gradually up to the main deck, the unmistakable blond of the pirate captain himself coming into view. You aren’t quite sure what it is, but the low thuds are sending your heart racing, panic overcoming your senses for a brief moment before you recalibrate. It’s only then that you realise it’s been more than 24 hours since the ship was hijacked. Somehow, you could have believed it was a lifetime.

He’s disturbingly nonchalant, hand at the sheathed hilt of the dagger at his hip, a casual glance around at the empty abyss of ocean and sky. When he reaches the far end of the deck, right above the prow, he stops.

“Are you going to push me off the rails?” you ask, half genuine, half trying to fill the silence as you face one another.

“No.” He said it plainly, the single word reply leaving you even more uncomfortable.

“Have you thought about what I said…with your crew?” you ask, hand coming up to grab the railing for support.

“I did.”

“Do I sense an objection?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat

“Not exactly,” he says. “We want to hear your master plan for this heist before we agree to anything.”

He’s asking for a plan, a plan that you do not have.

You aren’t sure how he figured it out, perhaps it was the slight darting of your eyes as you thought of a response, but he seemed to read you like a book. He snorts loudly, “You don’t have a clue, do you?”

“You’ve done this before, you’d know better.”

“And if I led you astray?”

You look at him, this time right into his dark eyes, “Then you lead me astray.”

“Your contentment with death is wildly unsettling.” There’s a ghost of a sneer at his lip.

“I’d rather be lounging in the bottom of the ocean than live with a prospective future with my father.”

“So I’ve heard.”

There’s a huff that leaves you as you steel your voice. “I’m not trying to set you up if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I doubt you’d have that capability,” he says as he leans his forearms over the railing. You briefly consider pushing him over but think better of it.

As much as you wanted to be a sneaky link, you simply didn’t have that trait. You blame all the dependency your father’s fostered into you, ensuring that you couldn’t rule without his influence.

“Are you willing to brew a plan or not? I need to time my dip in the ocean accordingly,” you say, sounding almost disgruntled.

He lets out a big sigh, “Follow me.”

He’s made himself familiar with the ship, you soon realise, as he leads you right downstairs to the lower deck towards the war room. When he opens the door, the room is lit with lamps, casting a golden glow on the reddish interior, warmer than the rest of the ship.

“Stay here, and don’t do anything stupid,” he tells you as he shuts the door behind him, leaving you alone in the cabin.

You only exhale in response as you turn away from the door, towards the large table in the centre. It’s slightly cluttered, studying the scrawled notes as you realise they’re all from the Admiral, his directions and plans of course littered across the table. Turning towards the map on the walls, you lift a finger to trace the lifted ridges of snow capped mountains, trailing towards the dipped shallows of the blue water.

It was an exact replica of the tactile map in the war room back home, and you’re suddenly hit with a pang of nostalgia. Not that you’d been away from home for too long, but the end result of what you're about to do, regardless of the outcome, would change your life forever.

You feel yourself breathing in the lingering scent of mildew, a strange comfort in the warm quarters.

There’s a creak at the door, and you quickly retract to find the pirate captain back at the door, walking in with a trail of men behind him. You recognise them by their faces, watching as they all take their places in the edges of the room. They look relaxed. You note the pirate captain taking his place behind the main drawing table.

“Your throne, miss princess.” He gestures exaggeratedly towards the lone cushioned chair across from him. You’re hyper aware of all the eyes that are trailed on you, and you feel almost embarrassed to take the only seat.

It only lasts for a moment. You walk up to the chair with what you hope exuded confidence and take your place across from the pirate captain. His men circle the edge of the room, and you count five other men.

He sighs, “I think introductions are in order.”

“Mingyu, Minghao,” he points to the two men that had inspected your window right after you tried breaking it open.

“Jun,” he gestures to the one who had found you in your quarters the night it all went wrong.

“Seungkwan and Chan,” you recognize the latter as the one who’d tied you to the mast at his captain’s command.

“They’ll be helping kill your dear father.”

It’s silent for a moment as you attempt to moisten your mouth. You’re reminded you haven’t eaten or drank for hours, not since one of them had come up with a tray of whatever they could find for you from the reserves.

“I know I may not be the most admissible person to trust, or vice versa—” You hear someone snort but choose to ignore it. “But I’m willing to make myself useful to you if it means you would help me too.”

“Would it not be easier to lock him up instead?” someone asks, and you turn to find Seungkwan asking the question from next to the tactile map.

“He has too many people indebted to him, too many that are too loyal for their own good. I cannot truly rule for as long as he’s alive and well.”

“And how do you expect his loyal court mongers to let you bid favour to the people who killed their king?” the pirate captain asks with a raised brow.

“Which is why it needs to look like an accident.”

“How do you reckon we go about that?”

“What message have you given the Admiral?”

“You don’t answer a question with another question—”

“We need to be transparent with each other if either of us wants to make it out relatively unscathed.”

He doesn’t look too happy but he answers anyway, “My ship and five hundred thousand for all our trouble. Two months from now at the Green Islands up north.”

The Green Islands were anything but green, the glaciers being near uninhabitable owed to the ruthless weather. It was smart enough, it’d be near impossible to bring as much violent power that far north, no matter how influential anyone is.

“Is five hundred thousand all I’m worth?” you feel the beginnings of a sneer rise up your mouth. You aren’t sure what prompted it but you don’t want to fight it either.

“Didn’t know I was bartering for a fucking princess’ case, did I?” he snaps. “Now tell us how you want us to commit the undetected homicide of a King.”

“We need to blow up his ship.” To your surprise (and maybe even a little horror), the pirate captain breaks into a slight grin. Neither do you miss other bits of his crew releasing a bit of a snicker.

There’s a flare of defiance within you, “Do you have any better ideas then?”

“No, no. Go on,” he says with his head hung. You’re surprised he has the character to shield his smile.

“He doesn’t frequent the seas but I’m almost sure he’d be present at the exchange.”

“Almost?” he questions.

You hesitate. The combined chance of needing the crown home and seeing to the downfall of his enemies would be enough warmth to send him to the greenlands himself. You were confident, but your father could also be unpredictable.

“He’ll be there. I’m sure of it.”

The pirate captain lifts his head, locking eyes with you. You try not to look as weak as you felt, as unsure as you felt, pooling all the remaining confidence into your face.

He swallows before looking away, addressing one of the crew members. “How big are we talking?”

Jun looks up like he’s only just begun to pay attention, fumbling over the revolver in his hands as it thuds to the ground like a theatrical mistake, “What?”

His captain sighs before replying, “Explosion. How big does it need to be to blow up a naval ship with a King on it?”

The man brings a hand up to the back of his head, scratching his nape. “If it’s anything like this one, we’re gonna need a lot of ammo.”

“Just enough to sink it,” you speak before you could decide not to. “Even better if they don’t realise it’s happening.”

He thinks for a moment. “We could plant it in the bilge somehow.”

“But how do we get on that ship? When they’re giving us a tour of the lower decks?” The man you recall as Seungkwan scoffs.

“Throw a grenade on board somehow?” you hear one of them suggest.

“Real subtle, Chan,” you hear another mock.

The war room is in shambles before you know it, loud voices talking over threats to slit throats and to shove people overboard. The room is humid and it feels as though the light from the oil lamps are fading. You close your eyes amidst the utter chaos, rubbing the heel of your palm on your temple in an attempt to soothe the throbbing vein.

“Enough!” The pirate captain has spoken and you have the urge to ask what took him so long.

Tranquility once again and you almost thank the man. Before anyone can say another word, nausea begins to build in your stomach.

It takes you a minute to realise the room was spinning and that you weren’t completely losing your mind. The ship begins to rock harder as the seconds tick by, everybody in the room seemingly still as they perceive the change.

“Batten down the hatches,” the pirate captain says to no one in particular.

Chan is the only one who moves to the door to leave before he’s interrupted.

“All of you. Those clouds weren’t looking too nice up there, we’ve got a storm on our hands.”

By everyone he surely did not mean you, because as the room rushes out and you hear the thuds of boots clamouring up to the main deck, you’re left alone with the captain. Yet again.

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep steady, and you wonder how he’s able to remain balanced while on his feet. It isn’t long before your chair begins to slide as well, the legs croning as they slip on the hardwood. You spring up on instinct, hands coming to the bolted down drawing table to stabilise yourself.

The pirate captain seems unphased, moving the curtains on the far end to try to get a glimpse at where the water breaks. He steps like he knows exactly where the evermoving floor would be, barely glancing below to gauge his footing.

“Shouldn’t you be up there?” There’s effort in your voice, your grip on the table as hard as ever as the ship banks to a hard left. He barely grabs the wall in support.

“Huh? They can figure it out themselves, they’re big boys,” he grunts.

“Your big boys were at each other’s throats a moment ago,” you grunt back, stumbling at a particularly forceful lurch.

“If you weren’t so ill prepared they wouldn’t need to use their brains, that’s always dangerous,” he shoots back. He’s on the other end of the room, pushing the unbolted cabinet back in its place

“I gave you a job and it's up to you to see it done, I’m not—ah— I’m not supposed to be planning at all!”

“Are you?” He’s turned to look at you know, mouth hitched in a snarl as his forehead reflects a light sheen. “Because trying to murder a—”

“Trying to murder a King isn’t a normal task,” you finish for him in a hiss. “Yes, as you’ve reiterated a million times.”

“Great, so you know!” Sarcasm is a deadly look on him, you realise as he walks over from the cabinet to where you were in the middle of the room. The waves have given in, the rocking becoming significantly slower. “Now do you mind telling us about a plan that actually has better odds?”

Your white knuckles have relented, the hands that gripped the table coming loose as you stare back at the pirate in defiance. “I should just hand you over.”

“It’s sweet you think you’re in charge here,” the grit in his voice is evident. “This isn’t your turf anymore, miss princess.”

“You don’t trust me, and you don’t give me reason to trust you—ugh.”

The waves seemed to have decided she hadn’t had enough just yet, this particular lurch sending you hurtling backwards into the wall, back hitting the hardwood as the stable pirate himself loses his footing. You could almost believe you’d landed sideways with the gravity that’s lost its way beneath your feet.

The chair you were once sitting on is hurtling towards you with a vengeance, gaining momentum as you simply watch it approach like a wooden bullet. A boot clad foot kicks it to the other end and you realise the pirate captain’s gotten hold of his bearings before you have.

“What happened to being transparent with one another?” he huffs, breathless and wide eyed as he attempts to pull himself to his feet.

There’s another lurch that sends you both skidding towards the table, just short of grabbing on before you’re hurtled into the cabinet that had moved again, and now slams back into the wall with the weight of the sea and two humans with a bang!

“Fine. You give me your ammo to blow up the bilge, let me on the ship with my dear father and one of you scoops in and saves me before I drown with him,” you yell over the sounds of clanging and banging of everything on this cursed ship, and the whooshing and thunders of the skies, winds and water. “And if I riddled the chances of you letting me drown with my father? Where does that leave me?”

“On the bottom of the seabed,” he deadpans. “But that also leaves me without my freedom.”

You find the opportunity to look at him for a moment, and he’s looking at you too. He looks away towards the door, already making moves to walk out and join his crew above deck. The conversation was over, and it was evident in your lack of reply.

Mother nature, however, sends another one in as a surprise and you're both sent flying to the other end of the ship, yet again.

There’s a cushion to your blow this time as you find yourself landing right into the pirate captain’s chest, hand above his heart in your instinct to save yourself any more bruises. Between your bickering and the staggering of the ship, his shirt had flown open nearly down to his navel.

Your eyes barely register the nasty scar across his left pec, instead moving upwards to lock eyes with him. It’s insanity, how you instinctively dart your eyes towards his half open mouth.

“If you wanted me that bad, miss princess, you could’ve just asked.”

Whatever airborne drug that’d been willy nillying in your noggin seems to spin into a rage as his words register a moment too late. Clenched jaw and a vice grip on his shirt, you spit back.

“I don’t ask for things. They come to me.”

There’s a crash above you and you realise the oil lamp that was suspended above has shattered, raining glass over your forms.

Expect you don’t feel it, because he’s ducked over you and suspended his arms in the air to catch the crystalline.

Before you can decide whether it was instinct or not, you hear a yell at the door.

“Captain! One of the—oh.”

A barely balancing Mingyu, is staring into the now dimly lit war room, his captain and their supposed prisoner pressed against one another in a dark corner of the room.

Your instinct forces you to take a slow step backwards.

“Get back up,” he snarls, already pushing past you to stalk towards the door. He actually makes it this time, shoving Mingyu into the hall towards the stairs.

Not as much as a glance back before he slams the door shut, leaving you in the tattered war room alone, shards of glass at your feet.

THE STORM SEEMS TO have done its damage as it calmed itself for the rest of the morning and well into the day.

One of them had come down and escorted you to your quarters, Chan telling you that you could keep it while the rest of them adjusted in the other cots and quarters aboard. Changing out of your ragged, days old clothes felt luxurious, the familiar scent of your quarters putting your tense shoulders at ease; or at least a semblance of such.

Neither you nor the captain have attempted to speak to each other after the incident in the war room. Having berated yourself for letting your guard down enough, you chalked it up to the lack of food and sleep and put the matter to rest in some deeply buried chest in your head.

For now you board up the door of your cabin (because you haven’t completely lost it), and burrow under the covers for some much needed shut eye.

You aren’t sure how long the universe lets you rest, because unless you’ve slept all the way to the Green Islands the banging on the door seems incessant enough to warrant an arrest of its own. The sleep is slow to leave, and it’s hard enough to push an entire drawer against a door, the bleariness paired with whoever the fuck was outside the door isn’t making it easier to push it away from the entrance either.

By the time you’ve wrenched the door open, you’re thoroughly annoyed, and met with a very alarmed Seungkwan.

“Oh thank goodness, I was about to try opening it,” he says, looking genuinely relieved. “I thought you might’ve….anyway.”

“You weren’t trying to break in before?” you ask.

He only thrusts a tray of rations and water towards you, “Captain said to give this to you.”

Accepting the tray, you try to balance it in one hand with furrowed brows, “Oh.”

“Um. That’s it, sorry for waking you up.” He makes a move like he’s about to turn around and leave but falters. “If…if you need anything a bunch of us are on the main deck.”

And then he’s gone.

You take it as your cue to shut the door, kicking one of the heftier pieces of furniture against it before moving back inside.

When you peer up your tiny window, it’s late afternoon and the beginnings of orange on the surface tell you the sun is beginning to set. You decide it was a good enough amount of sleep. Setting the tray down on the smaller than usual desk, you find that these pirates do not have a knack for subtlety. Many of your letters and papers are haphazardly stacked and shoved into one corner of the table, very obviously sifted through.

Not that you care too much, there was nothing awfully important that you wouldn't have told them yourself. Ripping off a piece of bread from the tray, you take pleasure in chewing as loudly and as open mouthed as you wished, plucking the parchment at the top of the pile to study.

It’s another one signed by your father, not a question of your wellbeing in sight as he scrawls ink on paper all the incorrect things you did in the Southerner’s banquet last month. If anything, you were glad the stupid Admiral was away from your presence, his incessant habit of reporting your every breath and turn to your father was becoming too much to handle.

This was one of his tamer letters, less insults attached to his criticisms but a pain to read anyway. You don’t brush away the crumbs that fall onto the parchment.

There is not a diplomatic bone in your body. Perhaps move on from drinks and dessert and into more important territories besides the Duke’s son. Our kingdom needs a ruler that’s strong, not one that forgets where she is after a sip of brandy!

If you squint hard enough, it almost reads as a parent scolding a child for a spill, like regardless of what you did, he might just love you the same.

You wonder how good of a mood he was in when he wrote this.

Sifting through the rest of the papers you take a mental note of every reason he’s given you to believe that you’d be a hopeless ruler, a few years ago you even questioned why he kept you around before realising his contradicting intentions. As you read, letter by letter, you think of reasons you know are going to make you a better ruler, better than him and better than his stupid court of old men.

These pirates are a blessing, you think, and you aren’t about to let this chance from the universe drown in these waters.

HOSHI ISN'T IN TROUBLE. No, he isn’t. On his butt on the sleek floorboards of the ship, his own golden dagger glinting in the sunlight as it's held in a threatening hold, except it isn’t in his hands.

It’s pointed right into his jugular vein, held by some grimy sailor who considers himself something akin to a pirate. Perhaps the stench this sorry excuse of a crew carries around may be their idea of a criteria, but as Hoshi remains inches away from death, all he can think about is the atrocious fingers around his dagger, and all the scrubbing he’s going to be doing after this is all over.

Mingyu had warned him, told him to take down the flag of the navy from the mast, the royal seal in the smack middle of the ginormous thing. He brushed it off. He wasn’t quite sure if he was tipsy, hungry or just plain exhausted when he made that decision, because he’d forgotten just how stupid some of these simpleton sailors could get.

They were taken by surprise, their only weapons mops and buckets of soapy water as they were ambushed by some overlooked wherry that had suddenly thrown hooks over their railing and climbed up like uninvited sewer rats.

In the initial confusion, interrupted mid-chorus of some pretty siren and her pirate prince, the first few intruders had simply crumpled over onto the slippery deck, a few slipping overboard completely from the suds and water on the wood. His crew, and Hoshi himself, could only stand and watch as the newcomers sabotaged themselves for a few incredulous moments before they gained their bearings.

Chan and Seungkwan swang their mops right into the necks of a couple, sending them into the ocean without waiting for a splash.

Hoshi slips out his dagger with practised ease, swinging the butt of the hilt over the head of another ambushing intruder, right on the head as he crumpled to the floor with a loud thud. He kicks him over for an indication of where he came from. No ink that shows an alliance, no brooch or jewels with a crest.

New guys, ones that were clearly still learning the ropes.

Hoshi’s crew had better senses than required for him to yell out orders, and it only took a few more disgruntled minutes to disable the remaining extra men aboard.

“Where the fuck did these guys come from?” he asks no one in particular, mostly just annoyed that they were disturbed.

Minghao, who’s peeking over the railing replies, “It’s a tiny thing. They either lost their actual boat or didn’t have one at all.”

He vaguely registers him making a jerking arm movement over the exterior before he hears a wail and a splash. “Disgusting.” Minghao holds his hands away from his body like he didn’t want it anymore.

Hoshi’s mistake was keeping his guard down, because before anyone could warn him, the dagger that he held loosely against his hip had slipped out his palm. The next thing he knows, his neck is in some grimy sleeve’s grip, and the point of his dagger is lodged into his own throat. He holds his breath, afraid he might pass out completely from the stench alone.

“Not a move.” He sounds like a boy more than anything, but his grip indicates a harsher life. “Everybody into that fishing boat. I’ll throw this one in when you’re done.”

He sounds unstable, but that only makes him more dangerous. Hoshi can’t try to wiggle his way out of this one, one wrong move and it’s the end. His crew can’t do anything as they stand with broken mops and empty buckets as their weapons.

It was stupid of him to even allow himself to be cornered like this, not when he’s weaselled his way out of more dangerous situations with more ease than this.

His crew looks at him, and he can only close his eyes in encouragement. He watches as Jun steps over one of the defeated bodies to reach the hooks that’ve lodged into the railing. His movements are slow, and he can tell he notices the unhinged nature of this boy that he doubts is barely over 17.

Chan follows, then Seungkwan as Jun double checks the integrity of the ropes. He’s stalling.

“Hurry!” It was supposed to come out as a threat, but it sounded more like a plea from the boy.

And then Jun stops completely, his eyes trained on Hoshi. His eyes are wide, his grip on the rope so tight he can see the whites of his knuckles from the other side of the ship.

No, he wasn’t looking at him, he was looking behind him. Before he can register, there’s a loud bang of a gunshot, and Hoshi feels the body of his captor slump against his back, his dagger dropping to the ground with an ominous clang. He falls with him, turning over to push the dead weight of the body off of him.

There’s smoke in the air when Hoshi looks back and it takes him a moment to realise who just basically saved his life.

You stand in your nightgown, shawl over your shoulders, and a revolver, Jun’s revolver, clenched tightly in both hands. It remains frozen in the air, hovering as he takes in your face. Eyes wide, mouth open slightly, the colour drained from your face.

Hoshi scrambles to get up as the rest of the crew swarm both him and you. He grabs his dagger before anything else, looking back to see a bullet lodged in the back of his captor’s skull, blood pooling the deck.

He looks back at you shoving the revolver back into Jun’s hands eagerly, like you didn’t want to feel the warmth of the metal any more than you wanted to make that shot.

He looks back at the cooling body, and then back at you, an undeniable warmth overcoming his chest.

You just saved his life.

“Are you alright?” he hears Chan ask you. You nod slowly, and then quickly.

“Where did you find this?” Jun asks.

“Uh, in one of the quarters. Downstairs. I went down because I thought it’d be safer, you were handling it and I didn’t want to get in the way. But then…all your weapons were there.”

Your voice sounds airy, like you were in a daze. Hoshi comes to the stark realisation that this may have been your first time with a weapon, and then even more horrifying, your first kill.

“I’m sorry, I just thought it was getting out of hand and—”

“It’s alright,” Seungkwan says. He watches as you let him lead you back down the stairs below decks.

It was like the shock turned you into a different person, complacent, less defiant. Seungkwan clearly had more of an emotional range, because it certainly took Hoshi too long to realise you might be on the edge of panic.

Hoshi doesn’t say a word as you disappear, the smell of gunpowder from the singular shot wafting through the deck. He doesn’t realise he’s staring into space until Mingyu interrupts.

“Should we—”

“Throw them overboard,” Hoshi says, voice flat.

“But, this one seems like he’ll come around. We could question him and drop him off wherever next—”

“He’s a shit seaman, if even a pirate, he’s got what came for him. Throw. Him. Overboard.” Hoshi is out of breath, yet grits the words out through clenched teeth. “All of them.”

Hoshi slips his dagger back into its sheath at his hip. All he can think about is your blown pupils and you in your nightgown. All he can think about is how they were almost bested by a child. All he can think about is how you had to make that final shot to save his ass, that he couldn’t do it himself.

Mingyu senses his mood and asks no more questions, simply pushing the remaining bodies out into the water. He vaguely registers Minghao sending the men a prayer into the sea. Mingyu’s already trying to get the stupid naval flag off the mast, stripping off his jacket and disposing of it at the base to start climbing.

Chan pushes a clean rag into his chest, and he looks down to receive it and notes a tinge of blood at his collar. Right, he was bleeding.

They go back to cleaning, except it’s a lot more silent.

Jun walks back up to help, but this time he has both of his clean, black revolvers strapped at his hip.

THERE WERE FEWER PEOPLE in the war room this time around, the captain sits beside Mingyu, Jun and Minghao as they attempt to sketch out a crude rendition of your discussion. The pirate captain does nothing but use his dagger to pick under his nails, barely speaking as he listens in on the conversation.

Not that you cared, you and the rest of his crew seemed to get along better than you did with the captain anyway. Saving the man’s life seemed to hold no weight to him, not that you expected it but a ‘thank you’ would have sufficed.

“Keep the grenade til the last minute if it makes you feel better, so you’ll know I’m not trying to sink the wrong ship,” you sigh as you clarify. Minghao doesn’t reply as he scribbles the details. Jun rolls his eyes at his meticulous nature.

“We need to port in the next couple days if I’m gonna finish this grenade in time,” he says, looking at his captain pointedly.

“We can stop at Port Ash,” Hoshi says.

Port Ash was no man’s land, which also meant it was every man’s land.

Being mostly occupied by pirates and other thieves and criminals it was considered dangerous territory for anyone who didn’t speak in lies, deceit and fists. This crew would fit right in, but you worry for yourself.

“That’s not gonna be till a week and a half,” Mingyu interjects.

Jun frowns as he looks at Mingyu and then back at his captain, “I can’t wait that long.”

“We’ll pick up what we can at Hasry when we stop for rations,” Hoshi replies.

“But—”

“Deal with it. There’s nothing we can do about it.”

Jun looks like he wants to say something, and Mingyu has the good sense to interject again to ask more questions about the plan.

“How much manpower do you think the king’ll have?” he asks.

You sigh, crossing your arms as you lean back in your chair. “I have no idea. Could be five, could be fifty.”

“Not even an inkling?”

“Considering how he wants the lot of you gone, it’s probably on the larger side. But…” you pause.

“But?”

“He’s smart. Always seemingly one step ahead. I wouldn’t be surprised if he catches us blind.”

“I know enough about that,” Hoshi snorts. There’s a glint in his eye that suggests something, but you don’t press.

“I was wondering…we should probably change course even if it takes us longer. My father might intercept—”

“Did that. Didn’t take the obvious alternative route either,” Mingyu replies, and you note that he looks proud of himself. “We can take our time too, the ransom note suggested we took the way past Scarsfield.”

“We should be careful of other boats anyway,” you say, gulping down a lump in your throat before continuing. “Those other sailors could’ve been my father’s men too, for all we know.”

“They were on a smaller boat too,” Hoshi adds, he looks like he’s making connections in his brain. “What’re the odds they were dropped farther back into a smaller boat?”

There’s a pause as you absorb what he’s implying. “Are you saying they’re on our tail?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” he says, exhaling heavily through his nose. “He’s done it before. It was a sorry attempt then and it was a sorry attempt now.”

“How did you shake him off last time?”

The panic in your chest is barely there, but as you register the possibility, you find yourself breathing increasingly heavy.

“Circling farther out before going the opposite way so we wouldn’t cross paths.” He shakes his head. “But we can’t do that now, not when we can’t afford detouring. The port stops are as late as I’m willing to go.”

“What if we skip Hasry? It’s our more obvious stop, we’ll just stop at Ash later,” Minghao suggests.

“We’ll starve, we’ve got no food,” Hoshi gruffs.

“Portwater?”

“Too far.”

It’s silent yet again as everyone racks their brains. You feel very useless all of a sudden, you didn’t know the names of harbours or ports this far out.

“We’ll just port at Hasry and be extra careful, there’s nothing we can do.” Hoshi sighs at his own ultimatum.

He gets up and walks around the table to the door, “I’ll update the others.”

You glance as he walks past you, his figure leaving a gust of wind in your face. He smelled nice, which was saying something considering the state some pirates are known to be in. As he brushes past, your gaze is met with the other side of the war room, an empty oil lamp bracket on the wall.

The memory of the storm floods your mind, and suddenly your cheeks are burning. Snapping your head back, you're thankful they’re all absorbed in the papers and plans on the table, oblivious to the memory that’s flashed before your eyes. Mingyu was the one who saw you in your compromising position, and you didn’t know him well enough to decide whether he’d do something as dumb as dish out his captain’s ‘affairs’.

You file out the room with them. They don’t escort you to your rooms, make sure you stay in one place, restrict your wandering anymore. Perhaps they’d realised you weren’t actively attempting to sink the ship anymore, or that if you jumped off the edge it didn’t matter to them that much, but you appreciated the space anyway.

Briefly catching Seungkwan filling Mingyu in on the past couple hours they’d been below deck, you turn over to catch his eye. He waves, and you wave back. You don’t realise what you did till it already happened, noting the smile on his face as he did it. You choose to move past it and find the captain.

There was something you wanted from him.

There’s no trace of him on the main deck, eyes scanning the area to no avail. A movement from above catches your peripheral attention, eyes squinting as you crane your neck up to look. Hoshi has leaned his back against the railing of the crow’s nest, arms crossed, visible hand occupied with a brass telescope that glints in the sunlight.

He isn’t using it though, merely gazing at the horizon with furrowed brows. As though he could see better without the device in his hand. In the few minutes that you’re looking at him, you notice the muraled, multicoloured shirt that blows with the wind, a kaleidoscope of beiges, greens and reds. The crop of his blonde hair blends in with the clear blue-white sky.

Briefly wondering how he’s managing the impossible heat, a hand coming over your own eyes as a visor, you simply look back down. Seungkwan is next to you. You aren’t quite sure how he got there, but he stands next to you, hands on his hips, a pleasant expression on his face.

“Is there anything you want when we dock? We’re trying to make a list,” he says. Somehow, the prospect of pirates making lists boggled you a little. It was a little jarring, not quite sure why he asked a captive anyway.

But then again, were you a captive anymore?

“I don’t think so, no,” you reply and then juggle whether you should push it with another measly formality. “Thank you for asking.”

“That was your first kill, wasn’t it?”

“What?” You knew what he was talking about, but you weren’t expecting him to bring it up in the moment when he’s asking you about restocking supplies. And especially not with a smile on his face.

“That day, when you used Jun’s revolver to shoot the lad.”

A kid. He was a child.

“I…yeah I’d never done it before.”

“What made you do it?” he asks, remaining as nonchalant as ever.

“I—I don’t know, it looked like there wasn’t another option,” you say, not quite sure of yourself either.

Why did you shoot him? You’d never laid hands on a gun before, your father forced you into the category of archery and crossbows, not that you were very good at them either but it was also because you simply wanted to spite your father by being plain bad. It worked, because it only took a year and a half and an arrow straight into his study window to retire from the sport entirely.

Even then, your targets had been apples, barrels and tree trunks. Never a person.

You’d heard of what people tended to do in pressuring situations, and with the way the aftermath unfolded, it didn’t seem like you made the wrong decision to pick up that revolver anyway.

But the feeling lingers, the same one that you saw as you gazed into the back of the boy that held the captain of this ship hostage. It felt wrong. Like watching the pirate captain cornered was a picture you couldn’t quite make sense of in your head.

So you pulled the trigger.

“In any case, we’re glad you made that decision. We all owe you for it.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you gulp, inhale and press your lips in a line. “That’s a lot for a pirate to say.”

“I know.”

BY THE TIME YOU manage to corner Hoshi it’s already the next day, and you’re only a couple hours away from docking at Hasry.

It’s an anxious ordeal, the crow’s nest constantly occupied by someone trying to catch sight of a possible tail. There was no sign, yet anyway.

“I want to learn to use a knife.”

He was piling coiled ropes when you’d said it, pushing the heap to the side, sweating through his clothes. There was a flash of confusion on his face as he registered you.

“Why? So you can slit all our throats in our sleep?” he grumbles as he pushes a barrel against the railing. He’s too aggressive, and the force has the splashback soaking his clothes in freshwater, tsk-ing audibly.

You ignore the way his previously loose shirt now sticks to him, ignore the way the droplets land on your boots when he shakes his sleeve.

“We’ve discussed what we might be up against, I don’t want to be useless when the time comes.”

“Seemed pretty alright with that revolver.”

“Anyone can shoot a gun,” you say, getting the sudden urge to fidget with the front of your shirt. You try to make your voice sound as declarative as possible. “I want to learn to fight. With a knife, with a sword, with my hands if I have to.”

He doesn’t say anything as you look down, fiddling with the tassels on your shirt. Your excuse was the sun and the way it was beating down on the deck this afternoon, getting tired of squinting to simply look straight. When the silence prolongs you look up to push further, juggling with bringing up the fact that you saved his life and that, as Seungkwan very graciously told you, he owes you.

The sound your throat makes is unhuman, because when you look up the captain's soaked shirt is now off his back.

The skin is near white from the glare of the sun, remnants of glazed water that’s somehow made its way to his back as well. The dip in his shoulder blade reflected a dark marking, one that you couldn’t make out.

He wrings it as you can only watch, mouth gaping like a fish. Hanging it over one of the suspended ropes to dry, he mutters as he walks to the lower decks.

“Fine,” he says nonchalantly. “We’ll get you a knife at Hasry.”

Hasry. Right.

The port is quiet, at least as quiet as a port can be. There’s not much to see but fishermen both returning and leaving for another week's worth of fish supply. Minghao manages to pay and convince the harbourmaster that they were merchants on their way back to the Kingdom, stopping for supplies. The naval make of the ship helped, and then the crew pulled lines and ropes secured from masts in ways you couldn’t quite decipher.

You assumed you would stay on board, yet when Chan knocked and brought you some roughspun clothes from the town, you were informed you’d be joining them.

Hoshi deemed it safer, keeping the rest of the crew on board while he, along with you and Seungkwan, ventured into the village to get what was needed and leave before the sun fully set. If they really were being followed, the ship was going to be the first thing they seized.

Pulling the grey shawl further up your head, you attempt to look as blended as you could, Chan pressing down your shoulders to force you into a slouch.

“Stop walking like you're important,” he had said.

“I’m a princess,” you snapped back, but he wasn’t listening, only jabbing at you to keep the haughtiness out of your tone before it caught somebody’s attention.

The town was a quaint little place, something out of what you were read from storybooks, reminiscent of the paintings that you’d run past on the walls of the palace. The streets cleaner than you’d expected, the faint scent of baked goods in the air mixed with, onion soup, was it? In any case you were glad you were past the fish market, the yelling and the stench nearly sending you to the pavement, gagging.

When Hoshi returns, you and Chan are looking at a jewellery stall that’s selling necklaces, bracelets and anklets that look like rosaries; colours of deep ocean blue and sunset pinks, beautifully vibrant against their grey canvas backdrop.

You can only observe from afar, instructed to not interact with anyone while he was gone. Hoshi was gone to get food supplies, but returned empty handed. Systems were in place, that the crates would be on their way to the “big naval ship” at the docks for the rest of the crew to receive.

“They said there was a blacksmith up this alley” Hoshi says, eyes also trained on the uncharacteristically colourful jewellery stall, but he does nothing to move towards it. “We can get your knife there.”

“Knife?” Chan asks, confused.

“Miss princess wants to learn to fight—”

“Don’t!” Chan hisses, eyeing the men in black uniform that patrol the market from the shadows.

“It’s fine, they’re too far,” Hoshi says. “Let’s get this over with.”

You do find a blacksmith, an older man with a greying beard and bloodshot eyes that presents Hoshi and Chan with an array of knives and daggers. Either they were able to give an excuse, or he gave no mind to the third woman that trailed behind, the blacksmith continued to deal with the two men as they haggle over prices.

There’s another seller a ways away, and she’s laid out her goods on the floor on what looks like old drapes. It’s a woman, not much older than you were, unravelling a long string of leather cord. She cuts it, strings a charm through and seals the frayed end with a candle flame that burns at her side.

The curtain she’s laid her accessories on is patterned with bright colours, and you realise you can’t make out any of it from where you stand.

Glancing behind you, the men are still occupied with their bartering, seemingly forgetting of your presence. Taking a step back, you pretend to skim through the neighbouring stalls, glancing breezily at woven baskets, layers of folded fabric and towers of painted ceramic cups.

You stop before the laid out array of more necklaces and earrings, scanning the ground. The vendor looks up and gives you a big, crooked toothed smile, urging you to come forward, to take a look at what she has to offer.

Something does catch your eye, and you immediately crouch down to see it better. Picking up the necklace from the charm, you let the gold and red rest on your fingers as you study the make.

“That one’s new,” the woman says. “Practical too.”

The small brass letter opener that’s looped through the cord looks like it could do its job just fine despite its miniscule size.

“It’s quite popular among the busy merchants,” the vendor speaks in a rough tone, almost like she had a perpetual sore throat. “Easier to use this instead of looking for those bulky ones in their neverending drawers and—and in their cabinets.”

She lets out a laugh, “Quite pretty too.”

You stare at it for a moment, “How much?”

“Ten coin.”

You sigh, setting the necklace back down onto the cloth. Standing straight, you turn to walk away before she yells again.

“I’ll do seven!”

You consider whether you should speak, but you also doubt you’d be recognized just by the sound of your voice.

"I don’t have coin,” you rasp.

“How about that pretty thing on your finger then?” she asks.

The ring on your middle finger is a simple band of silver, a coming of age present from your father’s court a few years ago. You stare at the band, worth boatloads more than what this woman in an alley was offering you.

But you find yourself moments later, middle finger empty, and pocket lined with the long leather necklace with the miniature letter opener charm.

By the time you return to the blacksmith’s shop front, Chan is handing the man his coin as Hoshi holds an object sheathed in fabric. They turn around just soon enough to make it seem like you never left.

“Why are you standing so far away?” Chan asks. “Come closer.”

You listen, moving closer to the both of them as they get ready to make the trek back to the docks where the ship waits.

“The crates have probably been loaded too,” Hoshi says, his hands suddenly empty. You assume he’s pocketed the knife somewhere. “Let’s hurry and leave before—”

“Princess?”

It was your mistake that you turned around to acknowledge the title, something you realise as soon as you register the man that spoke to you.

Henley was a stout man, dressed even now in the finest suit of a berry colour, hair white as a ghost. There was no reason for a merchant so rich he had ties with the royal family to be wandering in a harbour market, but he also had every reason to be here.

If it was the recognition in your eyes, or the fact that they were just being smart, you feel one of the pirates wrap their fingers around your upper arm and pull you to walk away from the alley.

“Princess!” Henley yells and you cringe at his volume. People are looking now, and you briefly wonder why you aren’t running yet.

Your heart is pounding against your chest so hard it’s deafening any other sound in your ears, you still don’t know which one has a hold of you, but you let them guide you into a speed walk as you exit the narrow alleys of the main market.

The shawl above your head is pushed further down, shielding your face in a shadow. There’s nothing in your mind other than Clarence Henley and his rich suit, his gold pocket watch, his trimmed, white hair. His face that you only ever saw within palace walls, always accompanied by your father.

There’s a good chance you’re shaking, because you can feel your body rejecting it with the pain in your palms that you can only consider to be your own nails pressing into your hand.

The stench of the fish market helps, bringing you back from your daze as you finally register the ground beneath your feet. It’s only a few more minutes till you reach the docks and you’re suddenly being pushed up the ramp that leads to the main deck of the ship.

It’s immediate comfort, the familiar brown of the floorboards, the scent of saltwater and warping sounds of the sails. You’re led to your quarters, where you finally let the makeshift hood and cape fall.

“Are you alright?”

Snapping your head up, you’re met with Seungkwan and his concerned gaze.

“Oh, erm.” Your voice sounds…not like your own.

“It’s okay, breathe.” It helps, because it really did feel like you’d forgotten to breathe.

“We’re leaving in just a few, everything’s been loaded. Nobody followed you on board, don’t worry.”

Right. You were on the ship, you were in your quarters with some of the most feared pirates on the seas.

The way Seungkwan is easing you through your gulps of water suggests legends in the mix, but you appreciate it regardless.

When you’ve come round, feeling more like yourself, the ship has already left Hasry Harbour, sailing into the deeper waters of the ocean.

“Captain said they couldn’t run because it just would’ve been more suspicious,” Seungkwan informs you as you nod. “Did you…did you recognise him? The man at the market.”

The thoughts come flooding back, the colour of his suit, the jarring nature of a man of such wealth standing in a rundown port market.

“He’s a merchant, one of the wealthiest. A friend of my father’s. If he even has any friends.”

You pause as you think about the near blackout you’d had, the way the panic more than boiled over, taking over your senses and your rationality.

“I think…” you trail off. “I think I just felt like it was the end. I finally had an opportunity to get rid of that tyrant and seeing something that was from home, felt…it felt like I was going to end up right back where I started.”

Seungkwan doesn’t say a word as you digest your own words, accepting your own fear that had rendered you useless in the time it probably mattered most.

“Do you feel better now?”

“A little,” you answer.

“Maybe a weapon can help.”

At the door stands Hoshi, a stern expression on his face as he looks directly at you on the bed. In his hands, the same fabric covered knife he acquired at the market.

You know that you asked for this, but the jolt in your stomach still makes itself known.

“He’s right,” Seungkwan says, lifting from his chair. “Blades have a way of calming you in any case.”

You note the glinting hilt of Seungkwan’s sword sheathed at his hip, remember Hoshi’s own daggers that he seems to be emotionally attached to.

Lifting your head back to Hoshi, you ask, “Can we start now?”

He smirks.

ALL NIGHT, THE STUPID pirate captain had you taking swings at the air.

“Your opponent’s baked a fruit cake by the time you were done with that swing,” he comments, continuously unhelpful. “Swing faster.”

It’s nighttime, nothing but a few oil lamps on the floor of the deck keeping you and Hoshi in the light. Your shoulder burns, your forearms are liquid, and your non-existent opponent remains forever stronger than you.

“I’m done,” you huff, thoroughly spent. Crumbling to the floor, you bring your non-dominant hand up to your aching shoulder in an attempt to massage it.

It’s been a while, the moon high up in the sky when you finally decide to quit it for the night. He lets you go without a fight, and you doubt you’d have the energy to if he decided to do it anyway.

The following day, he’s tweaked his regiment a little, and you find that you’re finally swinging at something tangible; him.

He leaves himself open, an invitation to strike wherever you want. You feign for his shoulder, but he sees you coming from a mile away, already deflecting your flattened blade that comes for his thigh.

“Don’t look where you want to strike, you’re giving yourself away.”

Furrowing your brows, you dislodge your knife from his own and back away again. He’s immediately cocking a brow, telling you to come at him again. You go for his middle, slashing your knife in an arc as he simply deflects.

“Come on, find a pace,” he grunts.

Coming down with your knife again, he blocks you but this time with his forearm, pushing you back by the wrists. It was a battle of strength, as he forces your wrists down. He was stronger than you, and there was no way you could push away, so you dispel your own force. He stumbles from the sudden forward force, and you pull away to take a swing from above.

He recovers faster than you thought he would, already coming up when you’re ready to swing. He raises a hand to deflect, half a moment too late as your blade slashes across the heel of his hand.

There’s a brief splash of red against the blue backdrop of the sky, and you gasp on instinct, immediately moving away.

There’s an apology ready on your lips, mouth gaping as you watch him inspect the wound. You don’t get to say anything because he beats you to it.

“Deep enough,” he comments, like he was inspecting a painting. “Keep this up and you might actually be good by the end of the week.”

Oh.

“Alright,” he says again, moving back into position.

“Are you gonna wrap that?” you ask, referring to the bloody hand.

“It’s fine, I’ve fought with worse,” he says.

You blink as you reluctantly get back into position, bracing yourself as you continue to look at his hand dripping blood onto the deck.

“You’re getting the hang of pacing, but you need to start considering your blade as an extension of yourself—JESUS!”

You’ve swung at him faster than you ever have, putting everything into that single tug of your knife. He wasn’t expecting it, still talking over your glances at his palm. He had his guard down, and you took the chance. He ducks on instinct, but it could’ve been another scar for him to remember if you’d made it.

You stumble as he circles you to the other end, flattening his blade on your back.

“Nice try,” he says. “Really nice try. But you never turn your back to your opponent.”

“I lost my footing,” you defend, but even you knew that wasn’t an excuse.

“And I just stabbed you in the back. And now I’ll have to present your corpse to your father and hope he’ll accept it and give me my ship. We all lose.”

The pressure of the blade leaves your back and you're suddenly left looking stupid despite doing something somewhat right.

“You’d just swindle another poor sailor off his boat and move on,” you say. “You’re a slippery thing.”

He has a smile on his face that borders a smirk yet is innocently mischievous enough. It’s a strange sight, bloody hand, relaxed face. There’s a clean-ish rag on a nearby closed barrel that he uses to wipe the excess blood off his hands.

“I keep going because I live without regret.”

You can only roll your eyes as a scoff leaves your mouth before you can stop it. You simply turn around, settling to the floor, going back to massaging your still aching shoulder. That last blow only made it worse.

“I don’t regret things, miss princess. Ask me why.”

You remain silent.

“Come on,” he urges, that silly smile remaining on his face. He’s washing the wound now with freshwater from the barrel.

Sighing, you ask him, “Why?”

“Because I don’t ever do things I’d regret.”

“That insinuates you think before you act.”

“Right-O,” he declares, wrapping another torn cloth on his cleaned wound.

“Funny,” you answer. “Because I dont think I’ve ever seen any hint of light behind your eyes.”

He turns around to you, sheathing his dagger at his hip, a dangerous look in his eye.

“You’ve looked into my eyes?”

The clench in your jaw must have been visible, or the look of disgust on your face might’ve been apparent just the same, because the pirate captain simply laughs out loud before retreating towards the stairs to go below deck.

“I’ll send Jun up, practise with him.”

You wanted to send your knife, point first, hurtling into his retreating form.

Never turn your back to your opponent, my ass.

But you don’t, mostly because he’d probably manage to deflect that too. So you resort to sitting cross legged on the deck, staring at your dagger while waiting for Jun to meet you upstairs.

Hoshi said he picked the knife based on a number of things you’d already forgotten, something about carbon steel and having a good grip. It’s quite pretty, you’ll have to admit. It’s plain silver, but the reflection it makes in the sun makes it difficult to look away. You’d gotten used to the handle and how it fit in your palm, Hoshi assured you that the more you used it, the more the hilt would mould into your grip.

Jun stomps onto the deck, revolver-less and instead equipped with an array of knives that he deposits on the deck.

“Should’ve picked a plain old gun,” he grumbles as he holds one of the longer blades in his hand. “Job’s done and you don’t need to get within ten feet.”

“Don’t have to reload a knife, do I?” you comment, taking the first swing.

Jun may have an affinity for guns and explosives, but his handling with a knife was still nothing below an expert level. He pushes your arm off before spending you into a ballroom spin, flatting his blade at your collarbone.

That could’ve been your throat.

“No, but by now I could’ve shot you, thrown you overboard, and been on my way to a nap,” he says in your ear, before releasing you as you get back into position again.

That could’ve been your throat.

THE FOLLOWING WEEK PASSES with your days and nights muddled into a strange mixture of swinging knives and taking breaks slumped against the deck of the ship, unmoving.

It’s a particularly hot day, the giant glowing orb beating down on the deck with no mercy. Not that it stops you, because the sun remains unwavering, high in the sky, and you remain unwavering in your wide legged stances as you lunge for Chan again.

Chan’s entire being glistens in the afternoon light, the beads of sweat that he wipes off his forehead only seem to reappear every couple minutes. His clothes cling to him like a second skin, taking long breaths through his teeth amidst the difficult, humid air.

You don’t doubt you look the same, one hand in your hair suggesting you just took a bath in your own sweat. But Chan seems accustomed to the heat, and while you weren’t, you couldn’t deny your growing comfortability with it all.

It’d been a while since your meal, hence your sluggish movements were slowly turning increasingly sharp, having cornered Chan multiple times in the duration. You’re determined to not be the one to call for a time out, so you find yourself pushing beyond what you’ve been doing for the past week or so.

There’s a particular punch of heat at your sides, and you can feel yourself slowing.

One deep breath, a slow exhale.

It’s all clangs and reflections of knives, tiny droplets of blood as evidence of both of your tiny, unintentional nicks and cuts. You’re succeeding, pushing the man further and further back.

“You’re getting sloppy, aim for the blade not my tendons,” Chan seethes through his teeth.

“I’m trying,” you grunt through the effort.

You’re set back for a couple minutes before you go back to pushing. Your lungs burn, your entire side is numb from exertion, but you give more than your body is made for, and you succeed—kind of.

Chan back is against the railing of the deck before he realises it, and perhaps it was momentum, or sheer exhaustion, because one minute you’ve got eyes on Chan’s hands and his blade, and the next he’s gone. There’s a loud splash, and you suddenly realise what you’ve done.

You just pushed Chan overboard.

You scream before you can help it, dropping your knife with a loud, resonating clang. Pushing against the rails, you peer down to find a giant ripple on the surface of the ocean, whipping your head around to the stairs leading below deck to find Mingyu and Hoshi bounding upstairs.

“What? Where’s Chan, he was supposed to be with you,” Hoshi asks, whipping his head around the deck.

Your wide eyed, horrified response from near the edge tells them all they need to know.

By the time Chan’s pulled himself on board, soaked and dripping like a wet poodle, you’ve sat yourself the furthest away from the railing to prevent any more trouble. He drops onto the floor, creating a human sized puddle.

With the way the two men had merely sighed and threw the ladder over the exterior of the ship, you concluded that this must happen enough for them to be beyond the point of concern. It only adds to it when you see Mingyu nudge Chan’s unmoving but heaving body with the toe of his boot, giggling at his expense.

You make your way over, crouching beside Chan sheepishly.

“Sorry about that, got carried away.”

He’s sitting up now, quickly pulling himself back to his feet and you spring back from your crouched position.

“It’s fine, happens.” He has a small smile on his face as he says it and you conclude that he may find the situation laughable as well.

“Now, Chan,” Hoshi says, not letting Chan move into the deck any further from the railing. “What’s the first thing you learn about brawling on a ship?”

Chan looks slightly embarrassed as he answers, “Be aware of your surrounding—ARGH.”

Hoshi pushed him into the water.

You jump as you run back to the rails, watching as Chan’s head re-emerges at the surface after his second dip in the ocean.

Just as you’re about to say something to Hoshi, he’s stuck his head over the railings as well, yelling at Chan in some singsong voice.

“One time was a mistake, twice is a problem!”

To your left, only adding to your horror, is Mingyu doubled over in his fit of laughter, heaving as he giggled uncontrollably. He’s also holding onto the railings for dear life, but clearly, for reasons completely different from yours.

The situation resolves itself as both you and Chan learn a few lessons of practicality. Deciding you’ve done enough damage to your body, you announce that you’d be retiring for the day.

“Thank goodness, I was about to confiscate that stupid knife, I’ve been hearing clanging in my sleep,” Mingyu mumbles as he pulls the rope ladder back up to the deck.

In any case, you have the urge to take a dip in the ocean yourself, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in your drying sweat.

Grabbing a clean washcloth, you fill a bucket of freshwater from one of the barrels on deck and lug it into your quarters. The soaked washcloth does wonders for your overheated body, feeling enormously better after a change of clothes.

Your scalp, however, remains itchy and burning, so you decide to go back up to the main deck, hoping to manoeuvre a hair wash situation without needing to mop the floors of your quarters.

Refilling the bucket of freshwater, you set it down before scanning the empty deck for another spare bucket. You try not to scoff at the unwavering determination of the pirate crew to keep the deck unoccupied for such long increments, that last altercation teaching them absolutely nothing. You wonder how they’ve managed to survive for so long like this.

Shaking the thought, you use the spare bucket as a way to deposit your waste water as you pour cups of clean water over your aching scalp. The feeling does wonders for you, letting the water wash away weeks worth of grime, sweat and stress.

You’re almost back home in your quarters when the whiff of your hair salts hits your nose, the ones you’d packed for yourself, closing your eyes for a moment as you rub them into your scalp. You don't expect the clench that seizes your chest, but you falter when it happens anyway.

It’s nostalgic, and you hate it.

It smells like the palace, like the incense your ladies in waiting always burned, the stench of citrus having made its way into your bones from the years of exposure to the scent. It’s too much as you blink back tears, owing them to the suds that have made their way into your eyes.

The sting helps bring you back, opening your eyes to an orange glow and the waft of seasalt hitting your nose. You’re more aggressive when you dunk your cup into the bucket this time, too aggressive as you feel the half full bucket tip over and spill water all over the deck as you cause yet another accident.

Cursing loudly, you try to blink away the suds from your eyes, soap still in your hair as you try to figure out how to get another bucket of water without ruining your fresh change of clothes, mentally kicking yourself at not thinking this through.

“You realise we have to make do with that freshwater till we make it to Ash?”

Wet hair still in your hands, you attempt to peer up at the voice, only to find Hoshi standing above you, arms crossed over his chest with a funny expression on his face. Huffing, you grumble out in response, “Can you just get me a fresh bucket?”

“Hm, I don’t know, can I?” He removes his gaze and begins to pretend looking over at the horizon and the setting sun.

Chiding yourself for even bothering to ask, you reach for the tipped bucket yourself, deciding you’d figure it out yourself if this dumb pirate was choosing to be of no help. But before you could latch your fingers on the handle, the bucket’s snatched away.

At first you think he’s being funny, taking the bucket away to watch you struggle even further. “You—”

Except you watch him as he dunks the bucket back into the barrel of freshwater, lugging it back to where you could reach. “Try not to paint the deck with it this time, I’ve already mopped twice.”

The thank you freezes on your tongue, and for some reason you can’t say it to him. So you make a scene of splashing into the bucket with vigour, sending spills over the rim and taking mild satisfaction in hearing him sigh at the sight of more mopping.

He’s already gotten hold of the worn mop by the time you’re done as you remerge with clean hair, wringing your own mop of hair to deposit the excess water. Straightening out your back, you take hold of the spare cloth you brought along with you, patting your hair with it.

The sun remains in its mission to cast its golden glow, but only illuminates Hoshi’s grumbling form as he mops up all the water you’ve spilled.

“You know, I should really be making you—” He halts as he makes eye contact with you, your hands still occupied with patting your hair dry, flicking the wet strands. You have a rebuttal already prepared, waiting for him to finish his jab.

“Make me what? you grind.

You can’t make out the look on his face, somewhere between constipated and on the edge of a yelp, he keeps staring at you. You note a slight trickle of water making its way down your neck and chest, bleeding into your shirt as yet another water stain.

“Nothing,” he says, to your surprise.

And with that uneventful climax, you trudge back down to your quarters, a strange brewing in your chest.

[AN]: congrats you made it to the end of part 1!!!!! reblog ur thots and opinions or send me an ask, id love to hear the turmoil in ur minds lol

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thoughtsforsoob · 3 days

Note

Hii! I was wondering if you could do beomgyu fingering you under the table at a restaurant? Tyyy!!

a/n: hehe thank you for this anon! im going to try my best to make this good! inbox is always open!

beomgyu had invited you to dinner with the boys on this particular night. you agreed because you were excited to see the boys again and hang out with your boyfriend at the same time. so, when time rolled around to get to dinner, beomgyu had told you to get ready and that he was going to pick you up from your apartment. Having been told that, you immediately pick out your cute outfit (whatever you wanna wear) and start to do a little hairstyle and some makeup. beomgyu never expected you to dress up or even do any kind of makeup but it made you feel happy so you did it anyway.

When you were done doing all your steps to get ready, you met him outside and you both headed down to the restaurant together. nothing seemed different or out of place on the way so you were greatly surprised when you felt a hand on your thigh while appetizers were coming to the table. sure, beomgyu had occasionally rested his hand there but it only meant one of two things. 1, it was just a coincidence or 2, he was going to finger you. you were really hoping for it to just be a coincidence since everyone was surrounding you. you continued to make conversation with the boys despite this action. your face hadn’t changed in expression so you were good.

while finishing up your appetizers, you were talking to soobin about a bread recipe you wanted to try (you were asking if he wanted some when you eventually made it). suddenly, you feel a slim finger tracing up and down your slit, stopping at your clit to add extra stimulation, you bit your lip just a bit. soobin raised an eyebrow with concern, “are you okay?” you nod and let go of your lip. “sorry. im getting a cramp in my thigh.” you looked down at your legs and then back up at him. “I'm sorry.” he shook his head and frowned, “don’t apologize. you can’t help it. Are you going to be alright?” you nod and with that, you two continued your conversation. you left feeling the gently finger rubbing up your slit through your panties until beomgyu finally pushed then aside discreetly and slid a finger in. you looked over at him with wide eyes and leaned closer to his ear. “why?” you whispered lowly and he just gave you a smile, kissing your forehead. you felt dizzy from the whiplash his actions were causing you. He was completely disrespecting you under the table and being such a gentleman above the table. The boys hadn’t really been suspecting anything until you started to fade out of the conversation, eyes fixated on beomgyu. Taehyun was the one to speak up and ask if there was something wrong between you two. You immediately snap out of your daze and shake your head. “Oh no, he’s just really handsome.” They all playfully gagged at your answer and Taehyun was the one who remained suspicious. He didn't want to say what he was thinking but he gave beomgyu ‘the look’ and beomgyu gave it back to him. This made you suddenly extremely shy.

Beomgyu’s movements did not falter as he locked eyes with taehyun. You didn't know what to think but you felt yourself teetering over the edge of an orgasm. You looked to beomgyu and he looked down at you. He knew exactly what you wanted because of the squeezing of his fingers. He just nodded and you leaned against him, letting yourself go. You tried to not make it so obvious but at this point, everyone at the table was watching you look absolutely blissed out. They didn't even want to ask what had gone on because they more or less had an idea. They just stared at you two as beomgyu raised his hand back up, trying not to draw attention to himself from the rest of the restaurant as he licked his drenched fingers.

(part two with a gangbang???? Guys i'm so tempted please make me do it)

#txt imagines #txt headcanons #txt reactions #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu smut #txt smut #txt post #txt #smut #kpop #kpop smut #beomgyu

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uzurakis · 15 hours

Text

coming to terms with gojo satoru. well, it’s not like you can escape from him, no?

you slammed the bedroom door behind you as you barged in. feeling angry tears rise up in your eyes, you leaned against the door and tried to catch your breath. moments later, you hear a soft knock on the door. “hey, love, can we talk?” gojo’s voice is muffled but gentle.

no way, you say in your head. a little space won’t hurt for a while, right? “go away, satoru,” you snapped.

“aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he says, a teasing lilt in his voice. “i didn’t mean to upset you. i just love seeing you all riled up. it’s cute.”

“well, it’s not cute to me,” you retort, voice cracking slightly. “do you know how it feels to watch you ‘jokingly’ flirt with other women all the time?”

there’s a brief silence before gojo responds, sounding more serious. “i didn’t realize it hurt you that much. i just thought… i don’t know, it was harmless fun.”

“harmless fun?” you repeat, incredulous. “it doesn’t feel harmless to me, satoru. it feels like you don’t respect me or even our relationship.”

you hear a sigh from the other side of the door. “i’m really sorry, love. i never wanted to make you feel that way. i guess i just have a weird way of showing my affection.”

“oh, you think?” you say, a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

“open the door, love, pweasee,” gojo pleads, his tone lightening. “let me make it up to you. i promise, pinky promise. no more flirting with other women. just you and me, you hear me from behind there?”

you hesitate for a moment, then slowly unlock the door and open it. gojo is standing there, a mischievous smile on his face. his tall frame fills the doorway, and you have to tilt your head up slightly to meet his cerulean eyes. “hey,” he says softly.

“hey,” you reply, still feeling a bit hurt but willing to hear him out.

he steps closer, winking playfully. “you know, i never thought i’d see the day where you’d lock me out. do i really look that good when i’m flirting?”

“stop it,” you grumble, though the corner of your lips betrays a small smile. “stop making insufferable jokes, satoru.”

“i know, i know,” he says, holding up his hands in pretend surrender. “but you have to admit, it’s kind of fun seeing you all fired up. your jealous face is just so… cute.”

“not helping,” you warn, though your voice has softened.

he leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “you know i only have eyes for you, right? those other women don’t even come close to what we have.”

you sigh, leaning into his touch despite yourself. “you really need to find a better way to show your affection.”

“how about i start with this?” he pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you securely. “i’m all yours, no flirting, i promise.”

“hmm,” you ponder, feeling the tension begin to melt away. “just… don’t do it again, alright?”

“scout’s honor,” he says, holding up three fingers in a mock salute, then immediately winking. gojo’s usual playful self shining through. “you were never a scout, satoru,” you say, finally smiling.

“details, details,” he dismisses, pulling you closer. “but seriously, i’m all yours.”

you wrap your arms around him, feeling the warmth and comfort you craved. “all mine,” you repeat softly, burying your face in his chest. “just remember that or i’ll seriously kill you.”

“always,” he murmurs into your hair. “and just for the record, i’m the luckiest guy in the world to have you.”

“flattery will get you everywhere, gojo satoru.” you tease back.

“good to know,” he laughs, giving you a gentle squeeze. “because i’m never letting you go.”

@uzurakis

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incognit0slut · 17 hours

Note

Since you want to be realistic can you write something about squirting? What if r has been trying to squirt but fails (because not all women can do that) but spencer is being patient and helps stimulate her?

(18+, MDNI) Unprotected sex, squirting, and no plot. This is just pure filth and very graphic ~2k words

Spencer tries to stimulate you into the most intense pleasure.

Wet. You were wet everywhere. Your skin was drenched in sweat as you lay against the bed. Your hair was a mess across the pillow, some strands stuck to your damp forehead. But the most intense sensation, the one that captured your entire focus, was the throbbing wetness between your thighs.

It felt as if every nerve in your body converged at that single, overwhelming point. How could you not when he was positioned between your legs, his body pressed firmly against yours, grinding the hard length of his cock against your soft, swollen folds?

You whimpered, feeling the underside of his cock brush your clit with every thrust. He had been doing this for what felt like an eternity, and you willingly accepted him, writhing beneath his body. His sweat-coated skin slid against yours as you clung to him, his mouth hovering just above yours, lips barely touching.

You felt his hips withdraw, pulling back from your body before thrusting forward again. The slick mix of your arousal caused him to slip slightly, and the tip of his cock pushed into you without warning. You gasped at the sudden, intense stretch.

But just as quickly as it happened, he pulled out again, leaving you whimpering at the sudden loss. "W-Why’d you stop?"

He hovered above you, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. “I’m trying to stimulate you, remember?”

His palm brushed your skin, edging closer to your aching cunt. Your mouth fell open against his as he found your clit, slowly circling it with his fingers. You arched into his touch as he applied gentle pressure.

“I-I am stimulated,” you convinced him. Your brows knitted together when his movements intensified, his fingers pressing more firmly. The sensation was almost too much, but not enough. “I’m ready.”

He shook his head. “You need to be relaxed and comfortable. It’s all about building up the right kind of pressure and being fully aroused.”

You sighed. “I don’t know why you’re so intent on making it happen… It’s never happened before.”

"It might happen now." "It won't. There must be something wrong with my body."

“There's nothing wrong with your body. Everyone is different, and that’s perfectly okay." He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "But imagine if it does happen…”

His voice trailed off as he continued to caress you, drawing a gasp from your lips. His movements were slow and lazy, but precise, focusing on the most sensitive spots with an intensity that belied his relaxed pace.

"Spence..." you whined. The slow, teasing pace was driving you wild, but you knew he could hold out much longer than you could. "I want to feel you.”

"Patience," he murmured, his fingers never ceasing their rhythm. "The more we build, the more intense it will be."

Your hips bucked into his hand, your body pleading for more. The tension inside you coiled tighter and tighter, your breaths coming in shallow, rapid gasps.

"Please,” you breathed. The need in your voice was undeniable, and you felt him smile against your skin.

Finally, he relented, shifting his position into a sitting position before grabbing a pillow. “Lift your hips for me.”

“We’re using a pillow?”

“I’m trying something,” he replied. “It should help change the angle and make things feel even more intense.”

You raised your hips as instructed, and he carefully positioned the pillow under you, elevating your lower back. “I see you’ve done your research.”

A bashful smile crossed his face as he settled back between your legs. "Maybe a little.”

With the pillow perfectly positioned, he aligned himself again and slowly pushed into you. His eyes were fixated on the way your body welcomed him, but he didn't push any further. Instead, he began a slow, tantalizing rhythm, barely his tip moving in and out, teasing you with each shallow thrust.

The sensation was maddening. You felt every inch of him, the slow, steady strokes sent ripples of pleasure through your body.

"Oh, that's..."

"Good?"

"Very good," you managed, a moan punctuating your words.

How could something so simple feel so intense? Each teasing thrust seemed to make every nerve ending in your body come alive. The gentle rhythm, the soft sound of his breath mingling with your moans, created an atmosphere of pure, unadulterated desire.

It was evident in the way his eyes darkened with every gasp you let out, the way his hands gripped your hips a little tighter. It was evident in the soft, slick sounds your bodies made with each teasing thrust, your arousal intensifying with every movement.

Your hands gripped the sheet as you fought to keep some semblance of control. And when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he proved you wrong when his thumb found your clit.

“Oh…” you moaned, surprised even by your own voice. The sudden, intense sensation sent a shockwave through your body, making you arch towards him involuntarily. His thumb circled your clit slowly, as if he was experimenting, finding the exact rhythm that made you quiver.

It was as if you were his perfect study, each movement of his thumb carefully gauging your reactions. He watched intently, learning what made you gasp and what made you moan, fine-tuning his touch to drive you closer to the edge.

"Stimulating the G-spot and clit simultaneously can increase your pleasure,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving your body. “It’s all about building the right kind of pressure.”

“Spence…” you gasped, your voice coming in broken fragments as pleasure overwhelmed you.

“Breathe. Trust your body.”

You focused on your breathing, drawing air in and out, as your eyes fixed on the sight before you. Looking up, you saw his messy hair shadowing his intense eyes. Your gaze then traced the line of his chest, down to his narrowed waist, across the soft curve of his stomach. The trail of hair leading down from his navel drew your eyes further down, and you paused, mesmerized by the sight of his cock moving in and out of you.

Then he pushed deeper, stretching you further than before. The sensation was intense, a delicious mixture of pleasure and the slightest hint of pain as you adjusted to his fullness. Your fingers dug into the sheets, gripping them tightly as you watched him start to rut his hips into you.

You cried out as his thumb increased the pressure on your clit. It was becoming too much, the sensation was familiar yet different, and your body started to shake. He noticed your reaction and adjusted his angle slightly, aiming to maximize the stimulation while his thumb continued its relentless motion.

“Are you close?”

"Y-Yes," you managed to moan, your body quivering with the approaching climax. The way he angled his thrusts, hitting that perfect spot every time was driving you insane. He watched you intently, his movements never faltering, increasing the pace just enough to push you further.

You felt the climax building, unstoppable, like a tidal wave ready to crash. "Spence... I'm going to..." you gasped, unable to finish your words.

He pulled out at that instant, and you thought the sensation would leave you, but it was already traveling through your body. You cried out, filthy and unfiltered, as your orgasm ripped through you. Your body convulsed, trembling uncontrollably as your cunt clenched around nothing, the release so powerful it left you breathless.

Just as you started to calm yourself, Spencer pushed his cock back into you, drawing a gasp from your lips.

“Oh god…” you breathed, the renewed sensation overwhelming your still-sensitive body.

He watched you intently, the way your body thrashed against the bed, legs instinctively falling further apart. Sensing an opportunity, he let go of your clit and reached to hold the back of your thighs, gently parting you even further, quickening his pace.

“Spence, I can’t—” you began, but your words were cut off by a high-pitched moan as he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“You can take it,” he encouraged. “You’re almost there.”

You shook your head, feeling an unfamiliar pressure building. “I-It feels weird,” you whined, your head lolling against the sheets. “I need to pee.”

“That’s a good sign, it means you’re really close,” he explained gently, not slowing his movements but watching you more closely for any sign of discomfort. “Try to relax.”

Your body turned slightly, a fluid, almost hypnotic motion as the warmth deep inside you swelled, sending ripples of intense sensation coursing through your wet sex. The pressure built, unfamiliar yet compelling.

“I-I really need to p-pee.”

“Shh, you’re alright,” he assured you. “Just breathe through it.”

Taking his advice, you focused on your breathing and felt him quicken his pace. You squeezed your eyes shut as he rocked into you harder. Every time his throbbing cock squelched through your aching core, your arousal spread to his pelvis, his thighs, and his knees. The intensity was almost too much, but also too good to want it to stop.

Your breath hitched when he momentarily pulled away, then abruptly replaced his already quick tempo with an even more vigorous pace and your cunt instinctively clenched around him, your muscles spasming fiercely as he fucked in and out of you with relentless force. Your body tightened, and that unfamiliar sensation returned.

"Spencer," you gasped, the words catching in your throat as you felt every inch of him. The friction was perfect—intense, almost overwhelming, bordering on unbearable.

"Let it out," Spencer encouraged, his hands finding your hips, guiding you with a firm, steady pressure. “I got you.”

"Fuck," you moaned, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes from the intensity. You blinked your them open and quickly noticed the fucked-out look on his face, the way his mouth hung open as he focused on your pleasure.

His gaze was intense, almost devouring, as he watched every reaction, every shift of your body. The deep lines of concentration on his forehead showed how much he was invested in your satisfaction, and how much he wanted to see you unravel.

It was the trigger your body needed.

With that, you suddenly climaxed, calling out his name in a trembling moan as all of your muscles spasmed together, legs buckling completely as you drenched him with your warm liquid. The pressure was so intense that the liquid pushed himself out, but he stayed close to you, holding the base of his cock in place as he let the tip rub against your throbbing cunt the whole time you convulsed.

There was so much of your release drenching him and the sheets that you couldn’t believe he was capable of squeezing an orgasm so intense, let alone the satisfied smile he wore as he looked down at you in approval.

“You did it,” he murmured, his voice filled with pride and affection. His thumb gently traced circles on your hip as he lay beside you. “How do you feel?”

You took a moment to catch your breath before answering him. “Overwhelmed,” you whispered, a dazed smile spreading across your face. “And very wet.”

He laughed, a warm, infectious sound that made you feel even more at ease. He then grabbed your hip, his hand trailing down your leg before gently lifting it and placing it over his, turning your body toward him.

His hand rested comfortably on your thigh. “I think I can handle a little wetness.”

“You handle it very well.”

His grin widened, and he leaned in to capture your lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. “Do you want to do it again?”

You pulled away slightly. “That’s possible?”

“Absolutely. In fact, you can try to control it yourself.”

“…How?”

He suddenly pulled you on top of him, guiding you so that you straddled his hips. The sudden movement made you giggle, a light, joyous sound that filled the room as you buried your face in his neck. It was safe to say he helped you learn what your body was truly capable of that night.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

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jenchan-writingmultis · 2 days

Text

Twisted Wonderland Boys x Fem Reader in their respective Fairytales (Series)

(Idia's Part)

Previous part (Kalim)

─────❅─────

A/n: Out of every housewarden, I felt like sobbing writing Idia's cause of how fluffy he is, I love him so much. Content Warning: This Fic will be tagged as 16+ since it is a bit suggestive along with mentions of Gorey themes (Azul), it’s very vague. I haven’t finished Book 6 and Book 7 because I’m stuck in Tartarus, but they’re not done here yet. Potential Inaccuracy in Indian Tradition, Indian and Greek clothing, if ever you see inaccuracy about it, please let me know, I only did a bit of research about it. The reason for potential OOC was cause I mixed both the classic Villains with the personalities of our beloved boys. You have a child with Kalim here!

─────❅─────

First Batch would be: Riddle, Leona, Azul

Second Batch would be: Kalim, Idia, Malleus

List of Villains interconnecting with each character:

Kalim = The sultan Idia = Hades ─────❅───── Idia: The underworld has always been Idia’s little comfort zone, although at first, he didn’t want to rule it, due to how depressing it gets sometimes, but along with his brother Ortho who takes care of “outside” activities, aka meetings with those overbearing gods and goddesses who think they’re better than anyone, he didn’t mind the work as long as it’s with him. So far, his duties were all just about guiding souls into whatever the fuck they want or are allowed to go, honestly if they all became lost souls, he wouldn’t give a flying damn.

One day, however, an odd discrepancy appeared in the calculations of souls being accepted—an unregistered soul had entered the narrative. Concerned, he strolled toward the portal of Tartarus to investigate. When he peered inside, a sudden flash of blinding light erupted, disorienting him. Before he could react, a heavy force slammed into his body, causing him to stumble.

“What the!” he grunted, feeling a heavy body on top of him, he rubbed his head, opening his eyes, adjusting to the sudden light-to-darkness transition.

You stirred, finding your hands pinning him down. His eyes widened in shock as he pushed you off, scrambling backward so quickly that he hit his back on the wall with a loud slam.

“What In the world?!” he screeched, his hair glowing brightly meaning he was incredibly nervous, while you seemed to be lost, standing up, you pat away the dust off your outfit, taking notice of Idia who still was pressed on the wall.

“Idia?” you went closer to him, he looked like an angry kitten, glaring at you at first but the moment you got closer he stiffens up, pushing his hands to protect himself from you.

“Stay back! You anomaly!” he shouted that it echoed around the empty room, you were taken aback, “Idia, it’s me.” you said, eyebrows knitting in frustration.

“H-how do you know my name?” he asked, looking at you confusedly, were you sent by his other brother who he doesn’t even think of one, Zeus? You look kind of angelic so there’s a suspicion.

“Idia, you’re my boyfriend” Wow point blank you decided to kill him with those words, boyfriend his ass, what boyfriend, all he knows is that he prefers to be single than have a lover, also he wants to add that you are way out of his league, there’s no way you like him that way, and this is the first time you met him, was there a camera around here? The edited laughter? Where is it? He’s waiting for that to come.

Realizing that he was overthinking again, you snapped your fingers catching his attention; stating your name you tried to see if you got any reaction, but nothing. He really didn’t remember you.

You were going to be saddened by this, if it weren’t for the fact that the tips of his hairs had a slight pink on it meaning was still a chance for you to get your boyfriend back.

Okay, you two might be misunderstanding things, while Idia was observant, he can’t think straight when he’s in front of someone, his black and blue robe being a perfect cover for himself, he even had a hoodie knitted for him to cover his hair with.

You noticed that he was taller than before, raising your eyebrow, you grabbed his arm, which made him freeze up, looking at you like you just harassed him, his sweat drops. “What?”

“Since when did you get taller?” you asked, he slides your hand off of his arm, rubbing it a bit, “I don’t know?” he answered confusedly, before waving his hand dismissively, “No more questions, I’m bringing you back to Zeus” he grumbled, his stupid brother playing pranks on him again.

“What? Zeus?” you walked faster to catch up on him when he started speedwalking away, “Y’know, God of Olympus?” he said, weirded out why you didn’t know Zeus, everyone knows him.

“Wait, Zeus as in the God from long ago?” you asked further, which made Idia stop his tracks, turning to look at you, his figure looming, he looked like a grim reaper when he stands with you before, but now it’s more evident.

“What do you mean long ago?” he asked as bewildered as you are, why are you acting this way anyways? Anomaly that popped out of nowhere and almost giving him a concussion and right now you’re giving him a migraine, what’s next huh? brain aneurysm?

“Are you not my Idia?” you frowned, looking at him closer, he exhibited a different style, he was taller, slightly shorter hair, bluish skin instead of pale.

“Your” Idia? What does that mean?

The more you open your mouth the more questions pop out, sighing he decided to cover your mouth with his hand. “Please… just shut up for a minute”

Okay, first theory! You’re not from around here, I mean you just got spat out like trash by the Tartarus and suddenly proclaiming that he’s your boyfriend, he feels bad for you, your standard is in hell if you’re dating him, you’re pretty too, a disrespect to your face really.

Second theory, which he’s leaning on more, you’re a spy sent by his brother Zeus; to make him fall for you and you break his heart and upload it to magicam or something.

If you think he’s self-deprecating too much, please, he’s just being realistic with the situation.

“First off, I am not yours” he clarified, lifting his hands as if he’s surrendering to you. “I never met you in my whole life, you’re cute but no”

Rejected by your own boyfriend, you wanted to pinch his cheeks for it, you were going to be hurt by this, but the thing is, the way he acts reminded you of the first stages of your relationship with him, he wasn’t the best with it.

“Okay,” you said, being short with him, for some reason that made him feel bad, scratching the back of his neck, he wanted to hold your cheek or hand to comfort you, an odd feeling.

“Sorry- I mean if you want to, I can act like your boyfriend or something” he murmured, his voice gradually decreasing to the point you barely heard the last words.

“It’s fine Idia, no need” not wanting to force him into that kind of thing, however, you noticed that his little fire hair started to fizzle out, panicking a bit you touched his hand, holding it, “wait I mean, okay, sure we can act”

Phew, that got his fire back up, lucky you. “Okay…” he said awkwardly coughing as he uses his tech to call for Ortho. “Ortho, can you come here?”

Ortho was impressively fast with going back to the underworld, looking the same except his clothes or rather his cyborg parts looked Greek like, it explains why you were wearing a tunic.

“Scan her” Idia said, using his eyes to signal ortho who to scan, in which Ortho grins brightly. “Okay!”

You stayed still as Ortho used his eyes to scan you, it was something that came natural for you, especially since your Ortho does that often.

“So?” Idia asked, leaning on the wall, Ortho shook his head, looking conflicted. “Nope, she doesn’t have any data around Ancient Greece, or anywhere”

“Huh” he didn’t seem surprised. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, patting Ortho’s head. “Yeah! I did another scan but there’s no indication of her presence anywhere.

So, you really were just transported by Tartarus to Ancient Greece, connecting the dots, that means Idia here is…

Noticing you staring at him in deep thought He smiles a bit, you looked funny thinking like that, pouty and all. “Since you’re really not from here, my name is Idia, God of the Underworld, and this is Ortho, my brother.” Ortho waves at you enthusiastically and he was genuinely surprised that his brother introduced him instead of himself.

“I know” you hummed, crossing your arms. “I told you already, we’re dating- “

Idia tried to cover your mouth before you spout that out but failed as Ortho’s eyes widens. “You’re dating my brother in the other world?! You mean there’s another version of us in your world?”

Oh dear, you’re in it now.

Ortho basically asked you plenty of questions, already happy that his brother pulled someone like you, you were gorgeous!

Idia was a bit happy you got along with his brother, he sometimes feels bad that he keeps Ortho in such a depressing place instead of being a normal kid outside and playing.

Also he can’t help but get flustered whenever you randomly get physically affectionate with him, he’s been trying to find a way to get you back in your world, but it’s proving to be difficult since Tartarus maybe his domain, but it’s a system that’s entirely independent from him, think of it as the pity system in his gacha games, even if you hit enough 80 pulls, it doesn’t guarantee the limited character you want.

But, as long as he can, Idia tries to make sure every time he hangs out with you is worthwhile, it’s the first time he made effort to spend time with someone, when he’s off work, he finds himself going to the guest room, asking if you wanted to come eat with him and Ortho, or sometimes, you end up in his room, playing a two-player game with him.

Ever since you came into his life, he started going out of his room more, back then he usually just… does his work and go to his room. That’s all Now he’s trying to go outside more, especially when Ortho told him that to get you back faster was by “thinking outside the box” which just meant that he should go touch some grass and let the gears in his brain think of a solution.

He didn’t really know when he fell for you, but he noticed it when you were outside with him, in the largest field that had nothing but nature around. The outfit that Ortho lend you fits your palette so perfectly, it almost made him want to take a picture.

You were admiring the view while glancing around, picking up flowers.

Confused with what you were doing he walked to you. “Hey what-“ getting cut off as you shove a bouquet of flowers on his chest, a ribbon clumsily wrapped around the stems of the flowers.

“For you” you said, smiling, making his heart skip a bit, he accepted the gift as Ortho called out for you, giving him a glance before you grab his collar, pulling him down to kiss his cheek before walking away.

That got his hair to burn bright pink, shaking from the adrenaline, he coughed awkwardly, hopefully, Ortho didn’t see what you did.

Well, he’s having a hard time finding a way to send you back home, so… it might take a while.

─────❅───── A/n: ACCCCCCK IDIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ILYSM ༼;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ༽

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #fluff #twst idia #idia shroud #ortho shroud #idia x reader #idia twst #disney twst #twst ortho #twisted wonderland idia #idia x mc #ortho

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thir10th · 1 day

Note

hi love! i'd like to req emily smut, maybe a little more on the rough side if you'd be comfortable with that, where she gets jealous over reader and shows that through sex

if you want something less vague, it could be when reader brings emily lunch to her office and morgan keeps flirting with her, leading to some action in emily's office

I'll be doing these two together cause why not. I hope you don't mind! thanks for requesting, and I hope you liked it!!

jealousy - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

summary: see the asks, it's a mix of both, it kind of took a turn, but i hope you still enjoy it! tw: jealousy, a very poor try at dom Emily, fingering, breast play?, idk tws are so hard once you've finished writing🥲, i think that's it lmk if i'm missing smth a/n: no idea if there's a way for me to link both asks here, someone lmk if there is

It's only 8.00 am when you enter the police station, two bodies in the past 12 hours required the early hours, everyone had to be focused, your mind had to be only in one place. However, this wasn't the case for all the people on that room.

The local police officer at the head of the case had some other things in his mind.

He starts by boldly checking you out, looks at you up and down, stopping and staring at the short tank top you were wearing, which makes you uncomfortable enough to cover yourself with your arms as much as you can.

The look your girlfriend sends to him doesn't go unnoticed to you, you start to believe she will set him on fire just with her stare, she places herself covering your body to shake his hand, which she gripes a bit too harder than the usual.

If you didn't know her any better, you would say she is jealous.

But there was just no way, right? Emily Prentiss doesn't get jealous, she's too confident for that, she has you so well wrapped around her finger, she doesn't need to be jealous. Right?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"so you think this... unsub like you call him, could be on a killing spree because of his mother?" the agent asks you, staring at the last picture you just sticked to the board with a puzzled look.

"we're positive, we've seen this modus before, it's a clear pattern" you explain

"ugh, so talking about mommy issues" you can't help the little snicker that scapes your lips.

He looks triumphant, fully believes he's got you under his spell. He couldn't be more wrong.

The familiar hand that slides behind you on your lower back makes you jump, Emily comes around you, standing closer than she usually does.

"hey, what were you talking about?" she asks, tilting her head.

"oh, nothing just the case" you say, unbothered.

"just the case huh?" you turn your head to see how she's staring at him, as he walks away from you both.

"Em? what is it?" you ask suspicoisly.

"nothing, i just don't understand, what could be so funny if you were just talking about the case..." she says sarcastically

"oh my god" you try to keep your voice down, but the excitement is still noticeable "oh my god, Emily, you're jealous!"

"what? What do you mean I'm jealous?" her voice a couple octaves higher, making it so obvious to you she's lying.

"that's not even a real answer!" you say.

"ugh..." she lets out one of those little sounds she always makes when she knows she's been caught, you think it's adorable.

"ok, so maybe... maybe I just... don't like the way he looks at my girlfriend, so sue me!" she tries defending herself, but you couldn't take it seriously for your life, you find it adorable, the slight pink tinting her cheeks, her reassuring hand still resting on your lower back.

"Emily, c'mon, you know i love you" you kiss her cheek, she kisses you back but still doesn't look so convinced.

The thing is, you could not be any less attracted to that man, there was no way in the world you would find his flirting any appealing, but the idea of teasing Emily sounds too exciting.

A little fun never hurt anyone, right?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

"...hellooo, earth to Prentiss?"

Morgan waves a hand in front of Emily’s face and she’s brought back to reality.

"what?" she asks.

"i said, could you please put your frown away, you're scaring Reid" Spencer doesn't even hear the comment, too focused on the case file to even pay attention to the conversation that was taking place right beside him.

"my frown is just where it has to be, thank you" she says raising an eyebrow at that.

Derek gives a scoff, and Rossi chuckles at the whole stupidity of the situation. “If y/n can’t feel your stare burning a hole in her back, when she turns and sees you, she’s sure gonna think you're planning a murder.”

"i might just be" she mutters

"I think I know what's going on" Rossi intervenes "she isn't looking at y/n" he explains pointing at you "I think someone might be jealous"

You are only a few feet away, discussing your last findings with the detective, trying to laugh at every little thing he says, making sure Emily is watching.

"I'm not jealous" she defends "she is so clearly not interested, but what if she needs me to step in?" her attempt to make up a good excuse isn't good enough for any of them to buy it

"if that helps you, but all i can hear is jealousy" a big, cocky smile spread on Morgan's face, it's only making her angrier

"c'mon, or we will too have to face the consequences of the territorial monster of jealousy when it explodes" Rossi says, dragging Morgan away

"yeah, mark your territory" Morgan laughs, while Emily gives him the finger "go get her lover!"

It's your loud chuckle that draws the line for her. When you finally get away from the persistent officer, you turn to see Emily isn't there anymore, taking your phone you see 2 new message from her.

From Em💕: you better knock your shit off baby.

From Em💕: That's it. You're so in for it later.

That one makes your heart throb, it shortly makes you wonder if you had taken it too far. This was not gonna end well for you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hotch decides to call it for the day, sending you off to start fresh in the morning, when a male voice you had heard enough already, calls your name

"Agent, I was wondering if you would be in for a drink with me?" he asks, eyeing you up and down yet again.

You are so sure you would find it just as disgusting if you weren't so gay, and so in love with your girlfriend.

"oh, sorry but no, actually, I-" a much more familiar female voice interrupts you "she's with me" Emily says.

He can't believe his eyes, Emily wraps her arm around your waist pulling you close to her body "hi babe" she says, kissing your lips, you return the kiss, a bit amused at her jealousy, but loving the possessiveness she was showing.

"Sorry, you were saying?" she asks, the man still open-mouthed, he can't bring himself to even speak.

"nothing... ugh, good night, agents" he dismisses you, and walks away defeated.

Emily and you head out of the bullpen, her arm still securely wrapped around your waist, she slides her hand on your back pocket, grabbing a handful of your ass possessively, making you chuckle.

"wanna talk about it?" you ask her innocently

"oh we are gonna be doing a bit more than talking you and me"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Emily doesn't even leave time for the door to close, and you have a split second to register your thoughts before she closes the door and walks over in one long stride and slams you into the wall.

Her mouth attacks yours in a hungry, desperate kiss, her tongue invading in a fight for dominance, that you just let her win, she is determined to have her way with you, and you aren't going to stop her.

She wasted no time in getting her hands on you, roughly rubbing her hands over your exposed skin. You, however, delicately placed your arms around her neck and when you both pulled apart to breathe.

"what's wrong, Em?" you ask her, breathlessly

"you know what? For starters, I didn't like the way he was looking at you" she starts, her breath warm against your skin, she lowers her head getting your neck, kissing it so sweetly you feel you could melt

she is quick to find your pulse point, mouth-opened kisses all over your skin, she nips all over your spot, which makes you moan

"but then imagine my surprise when i saw you, flirting back" her hand finds her way underneath your shirt, reaching for your breast, she finds no more resistance as you aren't wearing a bra, your other nipple peaking through your shirt in excitement.

She uses her free hand to grip your ass, you jump at the feeling whimpering on her mouth, her closeness only making you more excited.

"but you don't like him, do you, baby?" she asks, teasing you, she leaves a soft kiss on your lips

"he wouldn't stand a chance, we both know men aren't really your type" Emily says lowly, nipping at the tender spot behind your ear.

She slips her leg between yours, a soft moan escapes your lips.

"so you just wanted to make me jealous" you're too deep in her dominance to even register anything, letting out soft whimpers every time her thumb brushes against the nub and grips the soft skin of your breast

"god... Emily" you let out, as Emily pulls your thighs apart with her hand.

"you know, baby, if you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked" she attacks your neck again, sucking hard enough to leave purple marks you couldn't care any less about now.

Emily presses her fingertips against the crotch of your jeans "your clothes. Take them off or I'll rip them off" she commands, taking a step back from you, leaving too little space to maneuver.

You knew better than to tease her when she was like this. A shiver of excitement runs through your back, and you comply.

You take your jeans off then, your shirt, quickly throwing them somewhere far on the room.

You move to kiss her again, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in for a kiss, but she doesn't let you, instead she grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up.

You wrap your legs around her waist, she carries you to bed, laying you down just harshly enough to make you even more excited for whats to come.

"you are gonna do exactly what i ask you to tonigh, you know why, baby?" you hold your breath, you're not sure if she actually wants you to answer, but you try nonetheless "because I'm yours"

Your answer seems to satisfy her, as she begins kissing her way down your body, taking special care to nip at your collarbone and stomach to leave more marks than the one's on your neck.

The soft cloth of her shirt rubs against your skin and as if just now realising she was still dressed, you grab the hem of her shirt and help her take it off, throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of the room, like you had done with your own clothes.

And not a moment later, she is back to kissing your body, stopping suddenly when she reached the hemline of your underwear.

Her hand navigates down them, she dips low enough to collect your arousal on her fingertips before rubbing your clit forcefully. Your body reacts immediately, curling forward. "Em!" you moan

"what's wrong baby? Cat got your tongue? use your words, if you want me to stop the teasing, just say it"

"fuck...Em, please, I'm yours, please Emily, yours" you confirm, closing your eyes and letting your hips rock against her hand.

“Who are you this wet for?” Emily demands, nipping at your earlobe.

"just you" you whimper, desperation starting to build in your lower stomach

"that's right baby" the cocky smile on her lips makes your eyes roll. You obviously loved slow, romantic love making with your grilfriend, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't love this side of her just as much.

She continued to move her fingers inside of you and you met each thrust but you almost fell apart when she pressed her thumb against your clit and rubbed hard.

She uses her free hand to play with your breast, you let out a gasp when her tongue moves over it spurred you on and she begins to gently suck on it while her hand still caressed your other breast.

You melt into the mattress at her words. "let go, c'mon baby, I got you" you cum on the spot, as she fucks you through your orgasm, she let's you ride your high.

Emily lays down beside you as you come down from the climax, she kisses your lips softly, lovingly this time, less urgent.

"you know i didn't mean any of it right? I was just playing with you, i love you. He didn't stand a chance" you try to clarify

"yes baby, i know, i love you too, i wasn't so harsh with you right?" she asks concerned. Sometimes you can't believe how Emily's mood changes so fast, from all dominating, incredibly sexy, to concerned, soft girlfriend.

"Em, it was perfect" you say, grabbing her face and pecking her lips "you are perfect" you kiss her again.

"well, good, because we're just getting started, i'm not sure you've learned your lesson yet" she grins.

"Like i said, I'm all yours, agent Prentiss" she sits to straddle you, and you grab her face to pull her in for another kiss.

Emily caresses your neck with her thumb, looking at the purple marks she had previously left "this will be hard to cover tomorrow"

"who says I'm covering them?"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Sitting on your usual spot on the plane, you lay behind Emily's amr, resting your head on her shoulder as she reads.

You aren't oblivious of the look on Morgan's face, right in front of you.

The shirt you chose had your neck and cleavage all on display, small and big purple marks cover your skin.

He stares bluntly at you, a cheeky smile covering his face "So y/n, looks like you and Prentiss had yourselves a good night. Care to share?"

Emily gives him the finger.

"in your dreams" you say.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

wow! a lot longer than i expected it to be! finishing this one gave me a headache so please like and reblog if you liked it, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated! <333 reqs still open as always!

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sunshineandspencer · 2 days

Text

A kind of look

A/N: Trying to act normal while my brain is in the realm of Spencer-Ville is impossible. The spirits possessed me, have a oneshot.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Apparently Spencer has been looking at her a little different recently.

Word Count: 898

Warnings: nothing really just fluff

“He’s looking at you.”

“What, Spence? Yeah, I know.”

“No. I mean he’s looking at you.”

They’d been saying this recently, Emily and Morgan. Making little comments that didn’t quite make sense, and trying to convince her of something that obviously isn’t real.

Somehow, drunkenly, she’d told Penelope about her crush on Spencer. Which resulted in her telling Derek, and him telling Emily, until it became one big family affair to try and get them together.

Even Kevin, who she barely even knew in the first place, made a passing comment about how cute they are together.

It’s aggravating, she wants to throttle them, but obviously that’s not allowed.

Most recently, Emily has been trying to convince her that Spencer looks at her differently. Which sounds completely insane.

Spencer Reid looks at her the same way he always has, politely and just a little to the right of her eyes. It’s adorable and endearing, making her want to smother him with affection until he drowns in it. But unfortunately he just doesn’t feel the same.

No matter what Emily tries to tell her.

Granted, she has felt his eyes on her for quite a while now, but that’s pretty normal.

He zones out staring at people sometimes, has freaked out a lot of LEOs that way. So she doesn’t take it personal when he zones out in her direction, getting lost in his own beautifully massive brain.

It’s completely normal, and when she turns around to indulge Emily’s insanity, she’ll see it.

When their eyes met, she was immediately made aware of the fact that it was, in fact, very different. To the point where she’s pretty sure she’s forgotten how to breathe.

His eyes almost seemed to be blurred at the edges, gazing at her so gently that she felt like she would break if he looked away from her.

So this is what they meant, Christ, it’s suffocating. But in a way that makes her want to go and ask him to help her breathe.

And when Spencer finally realises that he’s staring into her eyes rather than admiring her from afar, he stiffens. Eyes darting away to focus across at his computer monitor, scrambling for something to hold onto and sending his pencil hold flying.

Only drawing more attention to himself as he dove to the floor, searching for pencils and a way out.

Just as he thought the worst was over, hunched on his hands and knees under his desk, holding his hands to his burning face, he felt someone poke his shoulder.

Hands falling away, hoping it was just Morgan come to tease him. And then nearly choking at her being crouched down with him. Tripping over her name as he forced it out.

“Wha- what are you doing down here?”

Smiling softly, she held up a handful of pencils that she’d collected from around the room. The blush on both their faces being an equal match.

“Helping? Sorry if I freaked you out just then.”

“No!” He lurched for her and found her shoulders, clinging tightly as she met his gaze. “You could never freak me out! I just.. wasn’t expecting you to look back at me.. that’s all.”

Oh yeah, she’s completely smitten by this man. Gently easing his hands from her shoulders so that his imbalance on his knees doesn’t take them both out. He’s called the human bambi for a reason, and it’s not just because he’s cute.

Tilting her head gently, she shuffled a little closer until they were both under the desk. All conversation is suddenly being muffled around them, they’re in their own little bubble where nothing else matters. That bright smile of hers pulling at her lips in a way that makes his knees weak.

Not ideal when they’re the thing he’s currently supporting himself with.

“And.. why were you looking at me, Spence?”

“Because you’re beautiful.”

He didn’t even need to think about it, which is what made her utterly melt. If it weren’t the middle of the day, and she couldn’t already feel Emily’s judging eyes on her ass, she would’ve dragged him down to stay under his desk forever.

Instead, she leant in and pecked his cheek, grinning when she pulled back and he was looking at her again.

Jesus, she’s never felt more beautiful than when he’s looking at her. Hopefully she’s playing off her nerves well, because she feels like she’s going to implode.

“Takes one to know one gorgeous. Get back to work.. you can ask me out later.”

She got up first, crawling out from under the desk and practically skipping back to Emily. Whereas Spencer was stuck for a long time, hand to his cheek and daft smile on his face.

Until Morgan said his name and he moved before he could think. Smacking his head onto the table in his rush to clamber back to being vertical.

The rush of standing up so fast and having his cheek kissed sending him a little dizzy.

“Y-Yeah?”

“We’ve got a case, let’s get to the jet so you can make your ‘love me’ eyes at your girl.”

Spluttering something that didn’t even manage to come out as words, he just had to follow along. Wondering just how long it would have to be to class the time as later, already knowing exactly where he’s going to take her.

Want more?! Good!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid one shot

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lyjen · 3 days

Text

Just a minute

Summary: Evan and (Y/n) are due to get married, but when an accident happens on scene during a thunderstorm, the lives of the two are completely flipped upside down.

A request by: @shauna-carsley

9-1-1 Masterlist

Taglist: ( @oliviah-25 @shauna-carsley

______

“I still can’t believe you’re actually getting married, Buck�� Hen said as she bumped her shoulder against Evan’s who was sitting next to her. “Yeah who would’ve thought that..” Evan mumbled as he gave Hen a small smile as he looked down at his hands.

Their big day was coming closer with every second, minute and hour. They will get married next week. They weren’t the kind of people to throw a massive wedding, they would just invite their loved ones and some friends, and have an intimate wedding.

“Well I certainly didn’t expect it to happen for at least what, ten more years?” Chimney sounded through the headset while the truck hit another puthole on their way towards the location of their call.

Laughs sounded through the headphones as Evan was still with his head on cloud nine, even though he popped the question months ago. He still couldn’t believe he was engaged with the girl he loved desperately for these past years. They went through hell and back, from Evan getting crushed by a firetruck, to being targeted on duty by a sniper.

(Y/n) was sitting on Evan’s right side, and noticed his absent look. She placed her hand down onto his right hand, which was resting on his right thigh. When her skin touched his, he looked up and glanced at (y/n).

“Well, believe it because the proof is right here” (Y/n) said as she pulled the collar of her navy blue LAFD t-shirt forward and showed her engagement ring between her thumb and index finger of her right hand.

Her engagement ring was hanging on a small chain so she could wear it as a necklace.That was the solution if she was working, she couldn’t wear her ring around her finger if she was on shift. But she was determined to wear it, even if she was on duty. Tucked underneath her shirt so it wouldn’t get in her way as she would perform her tasks.

The truck pulled to a stop as (Y/n) placed her necklace safe and sound underneath the fabric of her shirt. She yanked off her headphones as grabbed her helmet off the floor and placed it underneath her arm, so she could easily jump out of the rig after everyone else.

She placed her helmet onto her head as soon as her feet met the wet ground.

It had been raining all day long. You’d think after a whole day with only rain, the clouds wouldn’t have any water left to send down to the ground.

But no, here they were.. in the middle of the night, getting called out to a warehouse fire, not exactly the kind of night she was hoping for, not when you haven’t slept at all in twenty four hours.

Hatches of compartments were pulled open, as she followed her captain. “Okay, Miller, Stafford, Mckenzie! Start evacuating the building!” Bobby ordered one half of his team. The three were preparing to collect everything they needed out of the truck. Such as oxygen tanks and halligans were getting snatched out of the compartment.

“Buck, Eddie and (Y/n) you are on ladder duty” he said as he pointed at the other three persons walking right beside and behind him. “(Y/n) I want you to raise the aerial, Buck and Eddie get up to that window and hit it. Let’s go!” Bobby called out as he clapped his hands together.

(Y/n) fastened towards the compartment where they stored the metal plates that go underneath the two arms on the side of the truck. She quickly grabbed two metal plates out and handed them over to Evan, as she grasped the two other metal plates and placed them on the right spot on the asphalt.

While Eddie gathered whatever Evan and Eddie needed for going up that ladder. (Y/n) and Evan expanded the side arms of the ladder truck.

As soon as she grabbed the metal side of the small ladder on the side of the truck to get on top of it and raise the aerial.

She flinched at the feeling of a hand pushed down onto her lower back. She was so focussed, she didn’t realize her fiancé - and soon to be husband - was behind her.

“I’ve got to harness up” he said as his hand remained on her lower back. His wet curls were flattened by his helmet and sticking to the skin of his face.

He softly patted his hand against her lower back, “See you in a minute” he said as he tried to make himself intelligible over the pouring rain. She sent him a small smile, which made him smile as he retrieved his hand and turned away from her.

She watched Evan walk away for a second, as she looked down to the ground. Still smiling. Making her realize that she has found the love of her life and she was really going to marry him.

This has been the happiest and blessed she has felt in years. Life couldn’t get any better than this.

A small and soft laugh left her lips, as she placed her hands onto the soaking wet metal pipe and pulled herself step by step up the ladder on the side of the truck.

When she reached the top of the fire truck, she directly turned to the left where the control panel of the aerial was placed. Her hand found the lever to raise the aerial while the other hand found the lever to extend the ladder.

A slight color change in the skies above her caught her attention as her hands were still pushing the levers.

It was like the sound of the rain was being muted and some kind of soft static sound filled her ears. She turned her face towards the still pouring clouds above her.

“What the hell…” she stumbled as she saw the bright blue colors through the dark night sky and dark clouds. She stopped pushing the levers as she took a step back.

Her stomach turned. This wasn’t good. It felt like some kind of demon could enter their would any second. But demons did not exist in this universe.

The sound was growing louder and louder, basically screaming into her ears.

Within a blink of an eye she felt a roaring pain through her body and her body tumbled backwards. Down to the ground.

The electricity entered her body through the hands, making its way up to her shoulders and made its way down her torso, down to her legs.

She wanted to scream, cry, do anything to make some sort of sound as a call for help. Even if it was just a little yelp, what would’ve given her hope. But she couldn’t.

She couldn’t make a sound. It was almost like her lips were sealed, stitched together, glued together with super glue.

Evan was just securing the red webbing around his waist, but the dreadful noise of the thunder and lightning made him stop his movements.

Evan jumped back and ducked as he heard a loud thunder sound roaring through the air.

“What the-“ he cursed as the truck he was standing next to started to smoke and move back and forth like it was possessed.

His eyes were locked on the firetruck. This never happened before. The rain did of course, but lightning that struck so close to him and his team didn't. Evan’s eyes grew wide as he realized who was standing on top of the truck before it got struck.

Adrenaline entered his veins as his heart started to beat faster and faster, pumping blood through his veins along with the adrenaline. His eyes searched for his fiance, standing on top of that truck. But it was hard to see with the rain drops dripping into his face. “(Y/n)” he stumbled, as the thought of her being in danger or being hurt entered his thoughts.

“(Y/n)!” he called out louder as his eyes couldn’t find his girlfriend on top of the truck. His legs were moving faster than his mind, which made him almost trip over his own body. Almost falling to the ground, Evan used one hand to push himself back up as he quickly made his way to the otherside of the truck where the small ladder was, to get on top of the roof of the truck.

When he rounded that corner, he saw her lifeless body lying on the ground. Arms spread wide across the asphalt, eyes closed and her helmet a few feet further than where it’s supposed to be.

Her name fell multiple times off his lips as he screamed like he was being tortured. He may be not being tortured physically, but mentally this was a whole other story. He dropped onto his knees next to her body as he cried out her name.

“(Y/n) can you hear me?” he tried to say through his sobs as his loud voice became softer with every sentence he spoke as he saw the raindrops falling from the sky onto her skin. “Please” he cried, he wanted to hold her in his arms, but he was scared.

“Coming through!” Chimney’s voice said, he kneeled down on the other side of (Y/n) and placed down the medic bag he was carrying with the strap over his shoulder.

Evan felt how a shadow of Chimney’s partner was in the corner of his eyes. But Evan refused to leave. He wasn’t going to leave (Y/n)’s side, not voluntarily.

Evan placed his index and middle finger against her neck to see if he could feel a pulse. But before he could sense a pulse, he felt two hands landing on both his shoulders.

“Buck, let Chim and Hen do their jobs” Bobby’s voice said. “No” he said, determined to stay, while the tears were welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t leave her, he wanted to do everything in his power to help her. But he wasn’t a paramedic.

Hen placed her hand on Evan’s upper arm. “Hey.. it’s okay.” she reassured him. “We got her” she continued as she locked her eyes with his. Evan’s eyes softened as Hen’s hand gently rubbed up and down over his upper arm and she gave him a small nod.

Evan glanced once more at his fiancé, as he squeezed his eyes closed to make some kind of quick wish, and moved out of Hen’s way to make room for her. His legs straightened as he felt two hands grabbing his shoulders and pulling him close.

He didn’t know who pulled him close, probably Bobby but that didn’t matter right now. His eyes remained on his girlfriend, his heart was beating so quick it almost felt like it could break through his chest and pop out of his body.

Evan let his fingers intertwine with his hair. He had so many emotions going through his body now, and didn’t know how to deal with it. He was sure he was about to pull some strands of hair out of his skull while he watched Hen and Chimney work.

Her eyes slowly opened as the ammonia from the little bag Hen had put right under her nose, entered her nose and triggered her brain to wake up. A groan left her lips as she turned her head and squeezed her eyes closed.

“(Y/n)? Are you in any pain?” Hen asked as she hovered over her, trying to get her attention. “Everything-” she said as a groan took over her sentence. “hurts” she cried as she opened her eyes again. “(Y/n), can you try to wiggle your toes for me?” Chimney asked as he focussed onto her feet.

With every small piece of energy she had left, she tried to wiggle her toes as she tried to catch Chimney’s reaction. She saw his eyes turn to Hen as he gave her a worried look. “It’s bad isn’t it?” (Y/n) said as she looked up into the dark night sky which still poured the rain into her face. “Hey, let’s not lose hope okay?” Hen tried to reassure her. But how could you not lose hope when there was as possible spinal injury?

“Pushing morphine” Chimney said as he already installed the IV in an artery in her hand. “Get a backboard and a gurney over here!” Hen yelled over to some of the other 118 team members, no one in particular.

“Evan?” she cried out, she knew he was there. How couldn’t he be? “Yes? I’m here baby” Evan said as he pulled himself free from the still resting hands onto his shoulder to keep him under control. Evan fastened towards (Y/n) as he let himself fall down onto his knees again as he took place above her head, still giving Hen and Chim the space they needed.

“I’m here” he repeated softly as he placed his hand down onto her collarbone and rubbed reassuringly his thumb up and down over her turnout jacket. “I’m sorry” she cried out the second she looked him in the eye.

“For what?” he asked her while a confused look was written all over his face. “Ruining our wedding” she sobbed. Evan sighed in awe, how could she be thinking of her wedding when the number one priority right now was herself?

Just a minute.. that was all that it took for the weather to turn and throw her in some kind of bad film or her worst nightmare.

______

“That went well, right?” Evan said as he closed the door of the car and locked it with the car keys. (Y/n) didn’t answer him and took the break of her wheelchair off and rolled herself over the threshold of their home. Evan just watched her rolling away from him as he slowly followed behind her.

They had just come home from one of the appointments of physiotherapy (Y/n) has twice a week. To treat her injuries, and train her muscles, but most importantly: to attempt to walk again.

The lightning strike had electrocuted her entire body, and touched her nervous system. While the fall off the top of the truck had damaged her spine. She could move her upper body, but from her waist down to the legs she was suffering from paralysis.

He went with her to almost all her appointments, if he could and wasn’t on shift. He wanted to be the shoulder to lean on or to cry on if she had to. He wanted to be a part of this journey, even if this was going to be hell on earth.

“Hey you okay?” Evan asks when he steps inside the house and closes the front door behind him. His eyes fell onto his fiance who was taking off her special gloves, which she got to protect her wounds and blisters, but also to give her more grip to push the wheels herself. Having everyone pushing you everywhere wasn’t going to make her happy.

She stayed silent as she put the gloves onto her lap, with her back still turned towards him. She didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. Not after the news she received.

Evan didn’t like the silent treatment, he never did. She only did this when they were fighting, or when she was upset. (Y/n) looked at the healing wounds on the palm of both her hands, as she softly let her fingers glide over the palm of her right hand, tracing the electrocution wound.

A sigh left his lips as he slowly came closer to his girlfriend. He stood in front of her as he kneeled down so he was on the same level as her. “What’s wrong?” He softly asked, his voice sounded almost broken.

Her eyes remained onto her wounds, as she emotionless kept tracing the same wound over and over again. He could sense that with every touch over those wounds, the spark in her eyes became less and less. As if she was losing herself.

Evan tries to make eye contact with her as he places his right and left hand onto her knee, folding both his hands over one another. “Please…” he sighed, knowing damn well what was going on. “Talk to me?” he begged her.

Her eyes kept being locked onto her hands. “What if.. all of the effort I put in to be able to walk again, won’t work..” she spoke silently, with a broken voice. Evan let out another soft sigh as he let both his hands wander and placed them carefully on both her thighs.

“All this work, and there still aren’t any results..” she said as he could hear her voice break, she was on the verge of breaking down. Evan went silent for a bit as the words she spoke broke little pieces off his heart. He wanted to react to it so badly, he wanted to tell her it was all going to be okay. But he didn’t want to give her false hope either.

“You just have to be patient.. and give it time, your ability to walk will come back. Im sure of it.” Evan tries to motivate her as he still keeps on trying to make her look at him, by using only his eyes. (Y/n) scoffed at Evan’s motivational speech. “Well, you may be the only one who thinks it will return.” she mumbled as she tried to look away from Evan.

Evan’s eyes narrowed at her reaction. “Okay, did something happen today? During your appointment?” he asks as he still tries to get her to look at him. Evan went with her, but wasn’t allowed to actually be in the room during the appointment. So he went and read some awful magazines -which probably didn’t get renewed much- they had in the waiting area.

“(Y/n).. look at me.” he said one more time. It took her a second, but then she found the courage to look her soon to be husband in the eyes. “And don’t even think about lying to me” he continued in a strict tone, as if he was talking to a child.

(Y/n) swallowed as she mentally prepared herself to tell Evan what happened. “We ran some tests. And he told me he wasn’t happy with the results.” her voice was trembling as if she was nervous to tell him the truth. ”He said he was doubting if I could walk ever again or hell even go back to work.” a tear slipped over her cheek as she quickly wiped it away with the side of her hand. She didn’t want to cry over it, but it was devastating news. How could she not cry over it?

“Oh baby…” the words fell off his lips like a whisper. He wanted to encourage her, but right now she needed to vent so it was best to just give her a shoulder to cry on. His thumbs gently rubbed up and down her thigh. “And.. I’m starting to think that he’s right.” she said as a voice crack took over her sound. “Maybe I’ll be stuck in this wheelchair forever, and we’ll never be able to do our first dance. Not the way I dreamed of all these years.” she cried as tears were running down her face.

Before Evan could think of what he was doing, he pulled her closer and locked his arms around her back. (Y/n) put her arms around his neck as she desperately sobbed with her face buried into his neck. She cried until there weren’t any tears left to cry. Evan could feel the fabric of his shirt sticking to his shoulder as a wet spot was created by her tears. “I’ll never be a firefighter ever again” she sobbed.

As soon as Evan heard her say that, he broke free from the state he has been in for the last few minutes, just letting his girlfriend cry onto his shoulder. His right hand wandered from her back towards her shoulder as he placed his left hand onto her cheek. “No.. You can’t think like that!” Evan said as he let his thumb cleared the wet strokes of tears from her cheek.

“I can’t do this..” she cried as she closed her eyes and shook her head. “But I’m tired Buck, it’s like i'm running towards the light at the end of a tunnel, but whenever I take a step, the light moves with it. It goes further away. ” she continued as she tried to help Evan imagine what it felt like, being stuck to that chair. (Y/n) placed her hand around Evan’s wrist of the hand that was connected to her cheek.

“Hey..I know it’s hard but we have to stay positive” Evan said. “Being a firefighter is my life! But I can’t do that while I’m stuck in this wheelchair! I want to do our first dance at our wedding, but not like this Buck!” she started to speak up louder. “And I know that, but that's why I said we have to stay pos-” Evan couldn’t even finish his sentence as he felt his hand being pulled down by hers, which was resting around his wrist. “Ugh! Would you stop saying that!” her loud voice echoed through the space of their home. She held her hands up as some kind of stop sign for Evan. ”You’re not the one who’s stuck to this wheelchair twenty four seven!” she said loud and clear as she tried to keep Evan on a distance from her.

She rolled herself backwards as she turned away from him. Arguing and being mad at him was easier if she wasn’t looking at him. “You are not the one who needs to constantly ask for help or the one who has been electrocuted or fell off a ladder truck!” she said, trying to calm herself down.

A silence filled the room as Evan got off his knees and stood up straight again. He has been where she is now. He knows for a part how much it sucks to not be able to do what you love the most, and being stuck at home. But she was right, he didn’t know what it felt like to be stuck to that chair, or not being able to walk no matter how hard you try and how much you want it.

Evan swallow was audible through the house, that’s how silent it was in the house. You could even hear a pin drop. “No, you’re right. I’m not that person..” he sighed as he leaned with his hands down onto the kitchen island in their house. ”But I am the one who almost lost my fiance when she was in the OR” he said as he looked her way, trying to get her attention.

He could see her head tilting to the side a little bit. She was still listening, even though she wasn’t looking. “You coded on the table.” he said as she could hear his voice practically breaking. A silence filled the room. “I was in that waiting room for hours, you were in the OR for hours. And when I saw that face of your doctor when he came through the doors, I almost thought I lost you.. again.” (Y/n) could only sense by the tone of his voice that he was struggling.

“And I didn’t tell you that, because I didn’t want to upset you. But I wanted you to have hope, because if you survived that.. I’m sure you can survive this too.” Evan tried to explain as he pushed his body from the kitchen counter.

Another silence.

Evan was ready to stop this conversation, to just.. walk away from it. But he didn’t have the heart to do it. He was sorry for her, that she has to go through all of this. Sorry for mother nature choosing the ladder truck as its target, with (Y/n) on top of it. It was just bad luck.

He could hear her breathing and hear her arms move, followed by a click of (y/n) taking the brakes off her wheels. (Y/n) turned the wheelchair so she was facing her fiance again. “You should’ve stopped me before I went up that ladder” she said, blood cold as she looked him in the eye.

Did she really still blame him for something he didn’t do? He understood she was angry, with herself, mother nature, physics, and Evan. A scoff left his lips as he let his hand run through his short curls.

He was thinking of what he should say next. He had so many words to say, and yet.. there weren’t any words popping up in his head. So he decided to go with the words he had already written.

A soft sigh left his mouth as he dropped his arm next to his body. “You want to know one thing that was written in my vows?” he asked carefully as he felt the tears trying to push their way out of the tear ducts.

(Y/n) looked him in the eye, an expression filled with confusion. She just blamed him for everything and he wants to talk about the wedding? About his vows?

“That no matter how hard life would get, I’d still be here.“ he said as his eyes connected once more with his, something that didn’t happen a lot during this conversation. Evan slowly moved forward, towards (Y/n). ”Whether you like it or not, I’ll be here in the good times and the bad ones.” he continued as he reached her wheelchair, and kneeled down in front of it.

Without breaking eye contact, he reached her level and took a breath. “You can try to push me away. But I’m not going anywhere. Because that’s what you do for someone you love so desperately.”

______

(Y/n) felt the sunshine kissing her skin as she leaned with her head against the window of Evan’s Jeep while she was sitting in the passenger's seat.

“Where are we going again?” (Y/n) asked with an annoyed tone as she glanced at her fiance. Evan could feel her eyes burning into his skin, his eyes remained on the road as he quickly glanced at her in the corner of his eye. He just smirked, as a reaction and continued his focus on the road.

She rolled her eyes as she let her head fall against the window again, just to see the sidewalks and buildings around her flash by. She hated surprises, and not knowing what was planned. Evan didn’t ask her to come with him, he commanded it.

“Hey I’m back! How was your doctor's appointment?” Evan said loudly as he closed the front door behind him. He shrugs off his jacket as he places his jacket onto the backrest of one of the chairs, which were placed by the dining table. When he doesn’t receive an answer, he calls out her name again. “(Y/n)?” he repeated as he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

No answer, again.

Once more, he called out her name and slowly entered the living room. She couldn’t have left the house, right? That was something she hated to do these past few months, especially now because of the wheelchair. When his eyes fell onto the wheelchair being parked next to the couch, his eyes wandered back to the couch which was in use by his girlfriend.

She looked like a corpse, lying completely silent.

Step by step Evan came closer to the back of the couch, his eyes burning into her back as he was trying to see if she was asleep or just staring into the deepness of their home.

“(Y/n)?” His soft voice called out her name, trying to see if she would react to him. The only sound running through his eardrums were her breathing sounds.

Evan reached the back of the sofa as he stood on his toes, trying to get a look of her eyes. Only to realize that they were wide open. She was zoned out. Her arms crossed over one another, looking like she was hugging or comforting herself.

“Baby?” his soft yet concerned voice sounded through the living room as he placed a hand down onto her arm. “Are you alright?” he continued. He knows she isn’t fine. She hasn’t been in weeks. Since she lashed out at him, it’s like some kind of switch has been flicked.

She hasn’t been to any of her physiotherapy sessions as she did before. Normally, she would’ve had appointments twice in the week. On Tuesday and Thursday. But at some point, she just stopped going. She wouldn’t answer the calls and texts of her friends and colleagues, and people were getting concerned. Buck was getting concerned.

It was like she was falling into a well and he was trying to keep her up with his strength, but he wasn’t strong enough. He never let go of her, but she did let go of him. Instead of holding on and locking her hands onto his wrists, she just suddenly let go. As if she was sick and tired, and was fine with everything.

Evan walked around the couch, gently placed her legs closer to the back of the couch and sat down on the sofa. “What’s going on (Y/n)?” he asked as he placed his hand onto the side of her thigh.

He waited patiently for an answer. “Have you ever thought about how life would’ve been if we did get married months ago?” she sighed. Part of him wanted to smile, he could already imagine seeing her walking down the aisle, reading their vows and saying their “I do’s”. “Everyday” he whispered as he slowly rubbed his hand over a small piece of her thigh.

“I just… wish my legs would start working with me instead of against me.” she said as she kept on looking into the deepness of their home. A sigh leaves his mouth, as an idea crosses his mind.

"Okay, that's it. Get up.” Evan says as he shoots up and points at her to get up. “What?” she says as she only moves her head to look up at her boyfriend. “Get up.” he commands her, but he gets nothing but an annoyed scoff back from her.

Evan places his hands on his hips as he waits for his fiancé to push herself up from the couch and move herself into her wheelchair. But she just goes back to the position she has been in for the last few minutes, maybe even hours.

A small okay fell from his lips as he placed his left arm on her lower back and his right arm under her knees, carrying her into her wheelchair. “Buck! No, no, no!” she groaned as she felt his arms underneath her body and before she knew it, she was being placed into her wheelchair and he was pushing her towards the front door.

“Where are we going?” she sighed annoyed, like a child that doesn’t get what she wants.

“We’re going for a ride.”

“Keep your eyes closed” Evan’s voice sounded through her ears as she was being pushed in her wheelchair. “Buck I really don’t-” she says as she gets cut off mid sentence. “Just wait for my sign” is the only thing Evan says as he keeps on pushing her wheelchair, maybe even going over a few thresholds. She could hear one of their favorite songs playing softly in the background.

“Okay and… open your eyes.” he says. (Y/n) uncovers her eyes and lets her eyes adjust to the lights that finally make their way into her eyes again. Evan smiles as he moves towards the middle of the space they were in.

They were in the ballroom where they were supposed to have their first dance in, filled with light strings, lighting up the room.

“Buck, what are we doing here?” she asks him, not amused.

He decides not to answer her question, at least not yet. He walks towards (Y/n) as he simply holds out his hand in front of her. “Take my hand” he softly says as his eyes connect with hers. “What?” she stumbles, unsure what to say.

Was he out of his mind? He was actually asking her to stand? After all these weeks of no sessions, and practice? “Am I speaking spanish? Take my hand.” he tells her again. He wanted her to try so bad. But he could see in her eyes that she was afraid. Afraid to fall.

She shook her head, “I…can’t” she says as she looks down to the ground. Evan squatted down so he could look her straight in the eyes. “Come on, I’ve seen you standing during the sessions. You can do this.” he tries to motivate her.

She shakes her head again as she starts looking around in the room they were in. There was no one else. “Hey, hey, hey… I’m here” he reassures her. Evan places his hand down onto hers as he softly squeezes her hand.

Her heart was beating like crazy, “Im scared” she whispers softly. “I’ve got you” he reacts as he pushes a lost strand of hair behind her ear again. Evan places his hand down onto her cheek. ”I won’t let you fall, I promise.” he continued.

Evan stayed at eye height, crouched in front of her. Hesitantly she looked at his hand which he was holding out to her again. A sigh rolled off her lips as she closed her eyes, trying to get rid of the sudden nerves.

She placed her left hand into his right hand, as a jitter made its way up her arm. Evan quickly got her feet off the little steps her legs and feet were resting on. Her feet were on the ground now, as he gently assisted her to stand straight upon her feet.

Her face was completely focussed onto her feet as soon as she was standing up straight. She couldn’t trust her legs, that’s why she keeps on looking at her legs. Evan smiles bright as he looks down and carries the weight she pushed down onto his hands.

Evan brings her hands towards his shoulder, as a sign for her to put her arms there and lean on him, like a real dance. When she gets the hint and places her hands onto his shoulders, his hands wander down her body to her lower back.

This whole time, they didn’t say a thing. (Y/n) places her head down onto Evan’s chest as she clung onto him like she could fall any moment. He places his warm red lips onto the top of her head and leaves a warm comforting kiss. “I’m so proud of you.” he whispers as he reeled her in. “I know it’s not the first dance you imagined..” he sighed.

“It doesn’t matter, as long as I’m with you..” she said as she kept her head tight against his chest. “I’m not the best dancer, so maybe it’s for the better that we do it this way” Evan said as a grin was spread across his face. He could feel her body shaking because of the laughs she was letting out.

Evan pressed his lips into a thin line to suppress his laugh and swayed both their bodies from side to side to the rhythm of the music.

They were going to get through this, together.

#911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evanbuckley #imagine

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