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#the first pieces i made i was so so not happy with they were way too simple
dearlyjun · 13 hours
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CALL OUT MY NAME ☆ c. seungcheol
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☆ PAIRING: slightly possessive boyfriend!cheol x reader (f)
☆ GENRE: NSFW (18+ readers only!!)
☆ SUMMARY: your ex boyfriend can’t seem to stop texting you lately; wouldn’t want to make your current boyfriend angry would you?
☆ WORD COUNT: about 1.8k
☆ WARNINGS: cheol is possessive in a protective way, mentions of an ex boyfriend that won't leave you alone, ex boyfriend is min yoongi, cheol has a deep voice, mentions of cheol working out, cheol is tatted, he wants to fight her battles for her (king), unprotected sex, different sex positions (cowgirl, kneeling missionary), semi voyeurism, clitoral stimulation, spanking (like once), cumshot, foul language, cheolie is very sweet at the end!! lmk if i missed anything!!
☆ AUTHORS NOTE: posting this in honor of @miupow’s birthday!! happy birthday, lia!! you’re one of my dearest friends (and moots) on here. im so glad we met!! and also shout out to lia for beta-ing her own bday fic and correcting my half asleep writing. yeah even i don’t know what was going on there.
BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST HERE!
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You were setting a bowl of food and a glass of iced tea down on your kitchen island, when your laptop started ringing.
“Ah, Cheol, give me a minute!” You spoke out loud to yourself, quickly grabbing a fork before tapping your keyboard to accept the video call coming through.
“Hi, Cheolie.” You greeted in a sing-songy voice as he -was filled up your screen with a smile on his face.
Your boyfriend was in Japan on a business trip for a few days; scheduled to come home tomorrow. You both made it a routine to have dinner together every night over video calls.
“You look pretty.” He answered, his gaze never leaving you.
You giggled at his compliment. “You see me everyday.”
Seungcheol smirked. “And? You’re always pretty.” He motioned at your bowl that was in the camera frame. “What’s for dinner today?”
“Oh, um, spicy pork bibimbap. You know; my favorite. What are you having?”
Seungcheol pointed to some things on the table he was sitting at. “Tuna and rice with some spicy sauce and vegetables, and chicken.” He let out a laugh. “Kind of boring.”
You smiled at him before taking a bite of your food. “Did you go to the gym today? I saw the workout notification on my watch.” You referenced your activity sharing feature on your Apple Watch.
“Yeah, of course the last day I'm here I find this really nice gym.” Seungcheol rolled his eyes and took a bite of his food before speaking again. “I was so excited that I actually almost did a 400 pound deadlift.”
“Oh my god…” You were just as excited for your boyfriend’s gym achievements as he was.
“Hang on, I think I took some pictures.” He picked up his phone and was scrolling through some pictures. “Yeah, see?” Seungcheol turned his phone screen towards his computer so that you could see. He scrolled through pictures of the scenery of the gym, and some pictures in the mirror.
“I like that one.” You suddenly spoke up with a smirk on your face.
“Which one?” Seungcheol questioned before looking at his phone to see the one of him completely shirtless In the mirror, showing off his back that was beautifully adorned with muscles and his tattoo that you loved so much. “Oh with the tattoo?” He smirked, knowing fully well how much you liked it.
“Yeah.” You smirked, cheeks flushing like this was the first time you saw him. Seungcheol always seemed to have that effect on you.
“I didn’t go to the gym today, I went shopping instead.” You slightly laughed.
“Yeah, I saw the Amex notification.”Seungcheol joked, setting his phone back down. “Buy anything nice?”
You gasped, dramatically covering your face. “See! That's why I don’t like using it all of the time.” Seungcheol always let you use his credit card to treat yourself however you pleased, and sometimes you would buy clothing pieces that he’d like on you. Unfortunately, the notifications always went to his phone.
Seungcheol looked at his phone again, laughing at your dramatics. “It’s not like it shows me what you bought. It just tells me the store.”
“Well you’ll be home by evening tomorrow, right?” You questioned. “I’ll show you then. It’s–“
Your voice trailed off as suddenly a notification of a text message popped up at the top of your laptop screen. It was your ex boyfriend, Min Yoongi. For some reason he has been non stop bothering you lately; asking how you’ve been, if he can “catch up” with you. You ignored every one of his advances thus far, but you hadn’t said anything to Seungcheol.
“What’s wrong?” Seungcheol instantly noticed the change in your tone and expression. “You got so quiet all of a sudden.”
You sighed. “Cheolie, I hate you fighting my battles for me.”
“It’s my job.” Seungcheol quickly retorted. “What’s going on?”
“My ex boyfriend. Do you remember Yoongi?” Seungcheol nodded. “For some reason he’s been trying to get a hold of me; texting me like he wants something between us again.”
Seungcheol got closer to his computer, the tone in his voice suddenly deepening. “Show me the texts.”
You picked up your phone, showing him the screen of multiple texts to all of which you did not respond to.
“And you didn’t respond?” He questioned, reading the texts on your phone as you swiped through.
“No, I haven’t responded to any of them.” You answered.
“Okay.” Seungcheol spoke, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of himself. “I can’t get an earlier flight out. But If this happens again, I’m dealing with him.”
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“Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock just like that baby.” Seungcheol sighed, looking down at his lap to where his cock was disappearing inside of your wet cunt. “Fucking use it.”
Seungcheol brushed your hair off of your shoulders for access to your collarbones; sucking and biting at your skin. You whimpered In response, combing your fingers through his dark hair and giving it a slight tug. That only egged him on more; letting out a low grunt.
Seungcheol gripped onto your hips, angling them forwards so that when you slammed down onto him, his cockhead would be hitting a different spot.
“Cheol! Fuck!” You cried out, reaching to hold onto Seungcheol’s sturdy frame before falling into his chest.
“Yeah, gonna fucking cum?” Seungcheol’s grip moved to your thighs as you whimpered; your face buried in the crook of his neck. “Look at me, look at me.”
You pulled yourself up, still using him for stability. You couldn’t fight your orgasm right now if you tried to.
Until your phone starts ringing, lost somewhere in the tangled bed sheets.
You jump, clearly startled by the ringtone playing at almost full volume.
“The fuck….?” Seungcheol muttered, eyes fixated on his wet cock disappearing in between your legs.
“Ignore it.” You hissed, lifting yourself up off of him enough so just the tip was inside of you, only to slowly sink back down to feel every inch of Seungcheol’s cock.
Seungcheol knew that was on purpose, yet he still let out one of the hottest moans to ever come out of his mouth.
“Give me that fucking phone.” Seungcheol spat, putting one arm around you to keep you in place as he rummaged around the sheets to his right.
He managed to find it despite your whining, looking to see that the screen read a phone number across it and not any caller ID.
Seungcheol shot you a glance before swiping the green icon at the bottom of the screen to pick up the call. He then put it on speaker phone.
“Who is this?” The tone in his voice was deep and oddly steady considering that you were still perched up on his lap with his cock inside of you.
“Y/N?” The voice on the other side of the phone said your name, startling you. You froze. It was Min Yoongi of all people that could be calling you.
You saw Seungcheol’s jaw clench as he heard another man say your name, but with his free hand he still gave your ass a light smack to keep moving.
“Why are you calling my girlfriend’s phone? I know who this is.” Seungcheol used his free hand to pinch one of your nipples between your fingers, making you whimper.
“I just wanted to talk…” Yoongi’s voice trailed off and you didn’t know what he said only because Seungcheol whispered to you to lie down onto your back.
You followed directions, wincing at the empty feeling between your legs when you were on your back. Seungcheol immediately pushed your knees towards your shoulders and kneeled in front of you, aligning his cock with your entrance once again.
“We can talk.” Seungcheol spoke to the phone while he was teasing your folds with the tip of his cock. You grabbed a hold the comforter with your left hand, desperate for something to hold onto.
“Cheol, fucking put it in. Please.” You whined loud enough to be heard through the phone. Seungcheol had a satisfied look on his face, nodding as he finally pushed himself inside of you slowly enough so you felt everything; all of him.
You threw your head back; arching your back against the bed. Seungcheol put his hand onto your stomach to keep you still, then moved it down slightly to stimulate your clit with his thumb. Letting out a strained moan, you nearly wanted to scream.
“Awful quiet there, Yoongi. That’s your name right?” Seungcheol’s voice was so deep that your core clenched around him tight. “What happened to talking?” You were sure that the noises of his cock sliding in and out of you could be heard on the phone by now.
“I mean, obviously I’m a bit busy right now.”
“Cheol!” Your voice startled even you. Not quite a scream, but more like a whiny moan. Seungcheol’s body was quickly against yours within mere seconds; with his weight pressing into you.
“Mhm, call out my fucking name baby.” Seungcheol’s lips ghosted over yours as he lightly kissed you, then he found your right hand that was gripping onto the comforter and laced his fingers with yours. “Let him and everyone else hear it.”
The call either dropped or your phone died because it was silent, but neither of you were paying any attention.
“Cheol! fuck!” You swore, and just like that you were cumming all over his cock; shaking as he kissed you sweetly all over your face.
Seungcheol was on the brink of cumming, and you could tell. So naturally, you used his weakness to your advantage. He always gave in when you begged him to cum inside of you; he’d never tell you no.
“Cheolie, cum in me….please.” You gripped onto his thick arms as he supported himself above you; following your words exactly as his breathing became unsteady.
“Shit…fuck.” Seungcheol panted, dropping his head and making his hair fall into his face. You couldn’t help but let out a whimper at the feeling of him finishing inside of you.
The two of you were silent, and Seungcheol adjusted himself to not drop his entire weight onto you.
“I’m sorry, cheolie.” You muttered, running your fingers through his now messy hair.
He quickly had a concerned look on his face. “For what, princess? You didn’t do anything.”
You slightly laughed at the situation. “My ex is calling me, literally while we’re having sex.”
Seungcheol was smirking. “Yeah, but he’ll probably never call again.” He grabbed your hand, kissed the back of it, then kissed your face. “He should know that you’re mine.”
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☆ TAGS: @lavnderwonu @dokyeomkyeom @https-yeonjun
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aetherdoesthings · 3 days
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would you like a new home? (pt. 3.3)
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forethoughts: y'all i'm on such an arlecchino down-badness syndrome i'm writing so much and releasing so much. i think after this i'm going to write more short stories w/ father and reader, so it's gonna be like a cumulative story of reader as their adventures as father's child. (spoilers oops)
notes: gn!child!reader, NOT AN X READER READER IS A CHILD!!!
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You were still awake when the door creaked open, and Father’s heels clicked against the ground. Father tried to place the tray of food gently on the table, but you could still hear the porcelain hit the wood.
“Are you going to continue to pretend to sleep, or come and eat?” Father had a playful tone to her voice.
Of course Father knew you weren’t asleep.
Father made her way towards you, placing a hand on your head as she ran her fingers through the knots in your hair. “How are you, my dear?”
You sat up, rubbing your eyes. Your head was still pounding from the orphan’s foot, making it uncomfortable to sleep on that side. “I’m okay.”
“Good. Good.” Father looked at your sleepy expression, a soft smile on her face as she petted your head. “Do you know that I would do anything for you, my dear? I treasure you dearly and hold you near my heart.” 
“Y-Yes, Father. I-I do too…”
“Do you?” Father chuckled. “I am very happy to hear that. Especially from you.”
Father kissed the top of your head, before standing up, heading towards the door. “Eat up, my dear. When you finish your plate of food, please come find me in my office. I will be waiting for you.”
Father closed the door behind her, leaving the lights on. Letting out a sigh, you crawled out of bed, hobbling over to the table as you climbed onto the chair, examining the tray of food. Next to the plate of Jueyun Chili Parcels was an envelope with Father’s seal on it. You took the small letter opener Father had gifted you, and carefully opened the envelope. Inside was a piece of paper, filled with a sea of ink. You would rather read the cookbook than this. 
“Adoption… guardian… Arlecchino… Y/N… child…” You picked out words you knew, filling in the blanks with your best guess. The word adoption rang in your head. Adoption? No one ever got adopted ever from the House of Hearth. Father said that this was the place orphans from all over would grow up in and graduate from. Arlecchino… that was Father’s name. You recall overhearing some of the caretakers calling Father Arlecchino. 
Father… plans on adopting me? The thought struck your head, causing the paper to fall out of your hands. You immediately picked it up, eyes scanning the ink. That was literally what the paper saids. On the bottom were two straight lines adjacent to each other. One had Father’s signature on it, while the others was empty. Father… Father truly planned on adopting you. This was actually happening. You searched the envelope, looking for anything else. A note. A small folded piece of paper.
My dear Y/N,
Perhaps this will be the happy ending for the both of us. So would you like a new home, my dear?
Father.
Father. 
Father genuinely planned to adopt you.
Father wanted you to become her actual child.
Was that why Father was always kinder to you?
Was this why Father was always much more lenient and biased to you? 
It was because Father wanted you to be her child?
Her actual child?
You took a deep breath, picking up the first piece of paper instead. Pure adrenaline rushed through your body, thoughts racing through your head as your heart desperately tried to claw out of your ribs. This was happening. Serotonin and joy was the only emotion you could feel; not an ounce of worry or fear in your heart. Why weren’t you scared? Why weren’t you worried? 
Because Father.
Father was the one asking you.
Father was asking you to be her child.
Father was giving you the one thing you craved ever since you gained the ability to comprehend.
A family.
A relationship.
Someone who truly loved you.
A parent.
So how could you ever say no?
A new home.
A new life.
No more loneliness.
No more fear or worry.
No more doubt or anxiety.
A new home. 
With Father.
Arlecchino reclined back in her chair, playing with the pen in her hand. Out of anything she had ever experienced or done in her life, this was the one moment she felt genuine worry about. She could not plan this out. She could not make failsafes or backup plans. This was a reckless action. But the action she desperately wanted to take.
Arlecchino had saw a part of herself in you; that was what drawed you in to her. She saw that kid who never got along with anyone else, that was always lost in their little world. She wanted to give you the support she never had growing up. So she gave you the little perks she never had. She gave you all she wanted when she was your age. 
It was unfortunate she could not find a companion for you.
But everything always works out in the end.
Life always finds a way to piece everything together.
Arlecchino was brought back to reality when she saw one of the doorknobs twist open, your adorable figure entering the room as you hobbled towards her. The letter she had purposefully placed on the tray was in your hands, cut open and the adoption paper on top of the envelope. You climbed onto the chair on the other side of her desk, placing the adoption paper on her desk. 
Arlecchino watched you with a stoic expression, unable to resist a grin as she saw your cute child face look down and fiddle with the hem of your sleeve in nervousness.
“Well?” Arlecchino cleared her throat. “What do you think about my offer?”
“...Yes.” You smiled brightly, nodding your head. “I w-want to be your actual child.”
The corners of Arlecchino’s lips shot up to her eyes. “Come here.”
Arlecchino didn’t even mind you stepping on her desk to leap into your arms, as she wrapped her arms around your back and head tightly, hugging you close to her chest. The warmth in her heart only grew when you reciprocated the hug back, your tiny arms clutched onto the sides of her ribs.
Arlecchino let out a content sigh, a smile on her face. Now she could say the one phrase that held meaning to it. No more teasing. No more playfulness. 
“My child.”
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justagalwhowrites · 20 hours
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Gurll, lavender is my go-to reread everytime. Ig u are taking requests (😂🫶🏻), I would really like to see how Joel found out Doc was pregnant of Sylvie and those sweet pregnancy exchanges - like him being worried (‘cause in the original we skip the whole pregnancy). 😎
OMG Hi Bestie!!!
So you'll see some of this in Girl Dad, a canon one shot I did for Doc's birthday back in October. You see some of Doc panicking about Sylvie on her birthday because she's never made it further in a pregnancy and her birthday has just such an awful personal history for her and Joel loves her through it. We also see Joel being just a precious father to his newest baby girl.
BUT... here's some more of the pregnancy for you ❤️
Expecting
20 years after your first pregnancy, you find yourself expecting again. Things are a bit different this time. A Lavender Drabble.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender
Warnings: Pregnancy. Smut adjacent. No use of y/n. 18+ only Minors DNI
Length: 2k
September 2, 2024
The first time you threw up, Joel was on patrol.
It's not like you'd gotten your period since the two of you had started trying but you didn't put much stock in that. You'd never been regular and you were nearing menopause now. Missing a period or two was hardly monumental.
But the nausea the morning you woke up alone was.
You rocketed to the bathroom, doubling over the toilet, everything left in you from the night before coming up.
"Shit," you whispered, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand as your stomach still churned.
You knew this feeling. It had been a long time but you knew it.
And you knew you should be happy about it. It wasn't like last time. You and Joel were together now. Not just together, you were married. Things were secure - as secure as they could be in the apocalypse, anyway - and you were trying for this.
But it was still the apocalypse.
It was no small part of you that thought this wasn't going to happen. That you were going to try and try and then menopause would kick in and you'd never have a child you made with Joel. You'd resigned yourself to that a long time ago, that you'd never be a mother to someone that grew inside of you, never raise someone that you'd brought into being through love. You had Ellie who was your child in every way that mattered and that was more than enough.
But you were pregnant. You were sure of it. And you should have been happy about that - thrilled, in fact. Part of you was. The rest of you was terrified.
What had you been thinking? Bringing a child into this destroyed world? Would Joel even still want this now that it was real and not some imagined, idealized thing on the distant horizon? How were you supposed to protect a baby from the horrors of this reality? Even here in Jackson there was fear and risk and you'd gone and done this on purpose.
You didn't tell anyone, though the nurses at the clinic could tell you were off all day. You assured them that you were fine while trying not to panic. What if Joel changed his mind? What if, when faced with the reality of it, he didn't want to bring a baby into this world?
You threw up again that afternoon, the sickening feeling hanging around after everything came back up and you tried not to cry.
Joel got home after Ellie was already in bed that night, his patrol keeping him out late. You were pacing the kitchen when you heard the front door open and close quietly, the squeak of the floorboards under his heavy boots.
"Baby?" He frowned poking his head into the kitchen. "What're you still doin' up, it's late..."
"I know," you smiled a little, looking him up and down and taking stock to make sure he was still in one piece. "I'm glad you're back."
He smiled back, coming all the way into the kitchen to take you in his arms and kiss you, gentle and deep.
"You and me both," he said. "Gettin' too old to be sleeping rough like that, feel like I did my time with that shit getting out here..."
You laughed a little and nuzzled into him, breathing in the sweaty, woodsy scent of him.
"What's wrong, baby," he whispered, his arms enveloping you totally, holding you against him. "Can tell you got somethin' on that big brain of yours."
You pulled back from him just enough to see his face, his arms still holding you loosely. His face was smeared with dirt, the grime of the trail and sweat on his skin and his eyes were soft and warm and like home.
"I'm pregnant," you said softly. Those eyes got wider. "I know we've been trying but... It's real now and..."
"You're pregnant?" He breathed, stepping back from you, his hands going to your shoulders. You nodded, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. "Oh Baby..."
He took your face in his hands and kissed you again, so hard you could taste the passion on his tongue.
"Really?" He asked, his eyes searching yours as he pulled back from you and taking your shoulders again. You just nodded again, your heart pounding. "Fuck, that's... that's amazing, we're gonna... Baby, you're pregnant!"
"Yeah," you laughed a little. "Yeah, I am... You're happy?"
"Happy?" He laughed back. "Baby, I'm... I'm so far beyond fuckin' happy that word don't even begin to cover it."
He got to his knees in front of you, his hands on your hips, sliding around to cradle the small of your back as he looked lovingly at your stomach.
"You're pregnant," he said, awed, almost to himself. He pressed a kiss to you, over your womb, before one of his hands came to hold you reverently there. "Our baby is in you, right now."
"Yeah," you smiled, voice wet. "Yeah, they are."
"That's amazing," he whispered before looking up at you. "You're amazing, you're the most amazing thing I've ever seen..."
You ran your fingers through his curls before cupping his cheek.
"Thank you," you said, your whole being feeling lighter now, knowing that he was really in this with you.
"For what?" He asked, getting to his feet and pulling you against him again. "You're the one doin' all the work."
You smiled a little.
"For wanting this with me," you said quietly. "I was afraid... I'm still afraid. But we can do this."
"We can do this," he echoed you, kissing your temple. "You, me, Ellie, this baby. We're a family. We can do this."
You put a palm over your womb again, cradling where the child you'd made with Joel was growing inside you.
He was right. You could do this.
But things were different after that.
Joel hovered. It reminded you a bit of when he first came to the QZ, back when he thought his fear was something he could push past if he just got close enough. You’d be working at the clinic, turn around to pick something up and then Joel would be there. You’d be relaxing on the couch and decide you needed a cup of water and, the second you started to move, he was up instead asking what you needed.
“I’m perfectly capable of getting my own drink, you know,” you said a two months after you’d told him you were pregnant and Joel had damn near held you down instead of letting you go to the kitchen. “Also capable of walking to the mess hall on my own, making my own lunches…”
“All the work you’re doin’ growing my baby, I should do something,” he replied, bringing you a glass of water. “Seems like this is the least of it.”
You might have believed him if it wasn’t for the other things, too.
You’d become insatiable during pregnancy, all but demanding sex at least once if not twice a day. You couldn’t get enough of Joel but he seemed to be able to get enough of you.
It was close to Christmas when you finally brought it up, Joel’s hands more gently roaming over your skin rather than with any desire or need.
“We don’t have to do this if you’re not interested, you know,” you said, hoping you didn’t sound too desperate.
Joel frowned, looking over your face for a moment.
“What?” He sounded completely puzzled. “Why would I not be interested?”
“I know I look different now,” you ran a hand over your growing bump and took a deep breath. “It’s OK if you’re not as attracted to me at the moment…”
“In what fuckin’ universe am I not attracted to you?” He asked, his eyebrows knitting together. “Baby, if I could spend the rest of my damn life inside you, I’d be a happy man.”
Your confusion must have shown because he brushed your hair back before adjusting your face to look at him.
“What’s goin’ on,” he asked gently. “Why are you saying this stuff.”
“You don’t touch me like you used to,” you said quietly, hoping you didn’t sound too wounded by it. “And it’s OK if you don’t want me like that right now, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t really want and…”
“Baby,” he cut you off. “I’m gonna stop you right there. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted you more than I do right now. Not when I first met you and you were some hot young thing, not when you first got off the plane to come visit, not when I first saw you again in the QZ. Seeing you grow our baby is the most beautiful, most sexy thing in the damn world, don’t go thinking otherwise.”
“Oh,” you frowned. “Then… I don’t understand. What’s going on?”
“I just…” he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking at you again, a pained look on his face. “I’m scared, baby. I’m scared in a way I ain’t been since we came to Jackson.”
“Joel,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. “We’re OK here, we’re safe here…”
“I know,” he said. “You’re safe from infected and you’re safe from raiders but… baby, what if you get hurt? You’re the doctor here, what if something happens to you or the baby? What if there isn’t someone who knows how to save you? What if I do somethin’ to you on accident, what if I’m too rough because I’m caught up in touching you the way I want? I can’t risk that, baby, I can’t.”
“Oh Joel,” you breathed, pressing yourself closer. “You’re not going to hurt us. I promise, you’ve never been too rough with me. If something doesn’t feel right I’ll tell you but it’s OK. We’re safe. You’re safe.” You guided his hand to your breast, his large palm curving around the soft flesh. “And I want you to touch me, really touch me. Please.”
He was cautious at first, hesitant. Now that you knew he was afraid, it was easier to see it on his face and feel it in his touch. But you guided him through it, holding his hand, reassuring him, until he was lost in you and things felt right for the first time in months.
You learned how to head things off after that. When he would appear in the clinic, you would give him a kiss and tell him how you were feeling. If the baby was moving, you’d guide his hand to your stomach to let him feel them alive inside you. When you needed something at home and could see that he was restless and distracted by worry, you’d ask him for help. You started meeting him at the gates after patrol so he could see you and touch you as soon as he was back, feeling how he relaxed when his hands were on you.
When you went into labor, though, you were worried. You knew he was afraid but then, so were you. You were afraid not just of what could happen, of how it would hurt under the best of circumstances, but of how to help Joel through it, too.
But he sensed what you were doing right away, so in tune with you now. He climbed into the bed behind you, pulling you back so your head was resting on his chest.
“Don’t you dare worry about me,” he said, kissing the crown of your head. “I’ve got you, baby. Got both of you.”
You smiled a little as the contraction eased and he held you a little tighter.
“I know you do,” you relaxed into the firm, strong body of your husband. “I know.”
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sydnikov · 13 hours
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Fleeting || A. Svechnikov
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Author: Sydney / @sydnikov
Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov / fem!Reader
Word Count: 17.5k
Summary: Every moment with Andrei is fleeting.
Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), cheating(?), toxic relationship, alcoholic consumption, angst, cursing, no happy ending, Andrei-is-a-dick™
A/N: For those of you who have already been following me, you might remember this post—that’s what this is based on :) This is also the longest fic I’ve ever written so that’s insane, but sorry not sorry. Get ready, this one’s gonna hurt 🤭
*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.
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Andrei doesn’t love you.
It becomes clear for you months after you start fucking him on the side. His likeness for you is merely an obsession, something to have all to himself.
You’re his, or were his, and that’s how he saw you. Nothing more than that, or at least that’s the conclusion you’ve come to after months apart lets you reflect on your relationship with him.
Spending a lot of time in your head, you think. About him, his actions, why he couldn’t love you the way you love him.
He always held you close to him, one muscular arm curled around your waist while the other likely held a drink in his hand. He paraded you around like a prize, happy to show off the hot piece of meat he likely thought of you as at his side.
It was hard to reach him, literally and metaphorically. You had to stand up on your toes to reach his ear, and the power imbalance just by your height difference alone only made the whole thing hotter, merely one aspect of your relationship you never really could get over.
Every time you spoke it had him grinning in a way that made you think he knew something you didn’t. You’re already so shy, too, and it’s what made up your whole demeanor, what drew him to you in the first place.
He likes sweetness. Innocence, quiet—that way you couldn’t rebel. And he loved it when you doted on him. You did your best to be everything he wanted in a girl, too. Bold makeup, skimpy clothing, speaking only to him and him alone. Best of all, you didn’t question him. His actions, his decisions, why he’d sometimes go days without speaking to you but once he called you again, you would come running without hesitation.
It took you too long to realize that he only liked you because you were someone he could fall back on when the freedom of his escapades got too boring and he needed stability. The thing is that Andrei loved you being his, but he didn’t want to ever be yours.
And you know this now, you do. The moment you went no contact and left his apartment in tears, you were calling your best friend for support and to reinforce the fact that he is the asshole, not you.
Sometimes, though, you dream. Of his hands on you, his mouth on your neck, his thick cock pounding into you from behind. The toxicity of it all that, despite everything, felt so good because your emotions were always on overdrive when with him.
Mostly, you liked feeling desired. Nobody had ever pursued you the way he did, even if your body is all he really wanted from you to begin with.
It’s been months since you confessed your feelings for him and he told you to leave; months of you wallowing, going to work, meeting with friends for drinks as a shell of yourself because without Andrei, life suddenly seemed colorless.
You miss him. The excitement, the tension, the way he made you feel. And you pride yourself on being confident, but all self respect flies out the window the moment his name is brought up. It’s wrong, too, you swear you know this, and you imagine countless times telling him off, if you ever run into him again.
For treating you like a body to warm his dick, a soulless individual with no feeling… You’re reminded of the last conversation you had with him yet again, the one that ended everything. You’d been seeing each other for months when it occurred. Months full of Andrei and the rollercoaster of emotions he had you on.
To get to the end, though, you have to go back to the beginning.
It’s January of twenty twenty-three, and you’re freshly twenty-one and experiencing the world in a way you never could before. Riding the high of getting your first serious job in college, it took no convincing at all for you to let your best friend, Maria, convince you to go out on a Friday night to celebrate your blossoming lives.
“Who are we meeting there, again?” You ask, painting your lips a bright red in front of Maria’s full-body mirror. You’ve already started pregaming, and your head is starting to buzz in just the way you like it.
Your blonde friend is quickly curling her hair, despite the fact that she’s had hours to get ready and still procrastinated until you arrived at her apartment. “Some friends from work. You probably won’t know them,” She says offhandedly, finishing her hair in record timing before snatching up the two dresses she had previously laid out on her bed. “Should I wear this in black or red?”
Raising a brow, you question her wording. “Considering I don’t work with you, I doubt I would.” Laughing, you turn your head away from the mirror to examine the two dresses she’s holding up to her body. “Do the red one, it makes your eyes pop.”
Anything would look good on Maria, though. She has this timeless sort of beauty, a blonde, blue-eyed bombshell that has eyes turning her way wherever she goes. You’d be jealous if you didn’t mind her taking all the attention off of you, considering you’re nowhere near as bold as her.
It will especially come in handy tonight, too, since these co-workers of hers are ones you’ve never met before and you don’t exactly plan on getting too close to them.
“This is why I get ready with you,” Maria sighs happily, unceremoniously throwing the black dress back onto her bed. “Oh! I almost forgot, I have heels for you!” She’s then running back into her closet, ruffling through a box before emerging with a pair of bright red stilettos.
“What’s with the red theme tonight?” You giggle as she tosses the heels to you. They look expensive, a brand you don’t recognize written in cursive on the inside of the leather soles. Maria insisted you incorporate red into your outfit tonight, whether it be subtle or bold.
She eyes you from her position on the bed, somehow managing to zip up her dress one-handed. “You don’t watch sports by any chance, do you?”
Throwing back the last of a vodka shot, you wince before responding. “My dad made me watch baseball with him sometimes?”
Maria’s face lights up like she suddenly knows something you don’t. All she does is hum in response, biting her lip like she’s holding back from telling you something.
Or, you’re just drunk. You’ve always been a lightweight. “What?” You ask anyway, finally standing up as you adjust yourself.
The blonde walks over to you, fixes the creases in your little black dress and affixes you with an approving stare. “Don’t worry about it,” Suddenly, she’s whirling around to go back for her phone, which is laid faced down on the nightstand. “Ooh, I knew those heels were a good choice. You look so good!”
As she saunters back over, wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you into her side and poses for a picture, you forget all about the abrupt topic change and the fact that her red theme with questions of sports does mean something, after all.
Truthfully, you still can’t remember exactly how you got from her apartment and into a high-end bar you’ve only ever seen advertised online. Bits and pieces of an Uber ride along with downing more shots come to mind, but it’s all hazy.
You don’t really care to remember though, either, as Maria leads you through the crowded bar, arm linked through yours, with a purpose. The music is loud, so loud you think you can see the walls moving, but that’s also probably just your swimming vision.
“Here they are!” Maria is shouting over the noise, and you follow her gaze to a group of tall, imposing men surrounding two booths right by the bar.
“Those are you coworkers?” You ask, a little incredulous. Scratch that—very incredulous.
She sends you a mischievous grin. “I said friends, girl. Meet my friends!” That’s what gathers their attention, and you’re suddenly reminded that she’s just as tipsy as you right now, if not more.
Ah, fuck, you think as one of the men come over and pull Maria into a hug. He looks at you questioningly after they pull apart, and you send him a small, nervous smile.
Damn it, Maria.
“You must be the friend she mentioned,” He says, again looking to the blonde beside you for confirmation. “From college, yeah?”
That seems to snap Maria out of whatever stunned stupor she’d been in, and she tunes back into your conversation by, again, pulling you into her. “My best friend,” She swoons, and yeah. She’s definitely drunk now.
“Nice to meet you,” He’s chuckling, and seems to be familiar with her antics. “I’m Martin.”
You introduce yourself and shake his offered hand. “Any leftover shots, by any chance?” While taking the lead in conversation with people you’ve never met before might seem odd, you don’t think you can rely on Maria to socialize for you considering she’s already falling into your side.
“I can check, if you want to follow me—ah, shit,” Martin curses, suddenly, then quickly apologizes to the two of you before rushing over to a man with a mustache attempting to climb on top of a table.
“Interesting friends, Maria,” You say into her ear as you reluctantly follow him, keeping her close. “Who’s the one with the mustache?”
She seems to gain a little bit of her wits back to give you a description of all the guys within your eyesight. “The mustache is Seth, super friendly but also, uh… Super drunk. He’s Canadian.”
You’re not sure why you need to know his nationality, but she continues before you can ask.
“And you just met Martin, right? Yeah, he’s really nice. His girlfriend, Nykki, is gorgeous, they’re both from Czechia. Then there’s the really tall one, behind Seth? No, other side. Yeah, that’s Jesperi. A bit of a flirt even though we’re all pretty sure he has a girlfriend, but he still won’t admit it. He’s Finnish.”
Maria continues to describe a few of the others, but truthfully, you tune out after Jesperi because a man about the same height as the Finn is suddenly approaching the group, and looks to be the only one Seth listens to because that’s who gets him to crawl down from the table.
You don’t know why he catches your attention so suddenly, but something about him… He turns, and you’re able to catch a glimpse of his side profile.
Immediately, you come to find there’s no accurate word to describe him. His beauty simply transcends any compliment you could give; instead, you interrupt your friend from her spiel.
“Hey Mare, Mare—who’s that?” Slapping her arm, you point towards the now-laughing stranger. He’s looking around as he does so, which is when he makes contact with your starstruck eyes. He looks amused, then seems to recognize the blonde beside you, and then he’s cutting through the crowd to meet you.
Maria gives you a look before also spotting the approaching stranger, and a large smile lights up her face. It’s a smile you’re very familiar with, one that enraptures every man who catches a glimpse of her pearly whites.
You quickly come to the conclusion that this is why she was so eager to go out. She’s likely had her eye on him for a while, and you struggle to keep the disappointment from your face as she purrs his name.
“Hey, Andrei,” She says, a little giggly. “Great game today, you all played awesome.”
Andrei… You test the name silently, liking the way it feels on your tongue. He’s even taller up close, and you can see the muscle definition straining through the fabric of his shirt. He’s huge, and you feel incredibly small standing next to him.
“Thank you,” He replies, his voice deep. A little husky, definitely accented, but you’re not sure from where. “Who’s your friend?” He changes topic quickly, and those dark eyes are back on you once again.
Maria, as ditzy as she can be, does notice the subtle change in him. Andrei has never been overly flirty with her like she has with him, and she’d be an idiot not to notice the way his eyes were drawn to you the moment he spotted you.
She’s used to having all sorts of attention from the opposite sex, and the Russian hockey player is all sorts her type. It’s amusing though, watching how you melt under his gaze, thinks ‘me too’, and then decides to help you out.
“This is my friend from college,” She introduces you, says your name and watches as he takes it in like it’s very important information. Grabbing your hand from where it rests at your side, she holds it out to Andrei for you, snickers as you send her a glare. “And this is Andrei. He plays for the Carolina Hurricanes.”
This is why she asked you if you watch sports, you suddenly connect the dots. And why she was telling you where all these people are from. Her friends from work are actually sports players, and you understand why she didn’t say it outright.
These guys, they’re famous, right? Your stomach twists, and you suck in a breath as Andrei takes your hand. His palm envelops yours, and he brings it to his lips to press a heated kiss to your skin.
The greeting is outdated, but for whatever reason it suits him. You think the kiss is a promise, too, as his thumb swipes over the back of your hand.
“That’s hockey, right?” You intend to ask Maria, but you’re unable to take your eyes off of Andrei as he slowly lets go of you, like the contact is riveting for him, too. “In the NHL?”
“Yes,” He answers. “You don’t watch?” You’re not a fan like he’d expect. Strangely enough, he likes that you don’t follow them. It makes you all the more interesting, someone new to pick apart for his pleasure.
You flush, turning red under his unrelenting gaze. Suddenly, you feel out of place with your lackluster hockey knowledge. “Not a huge sports girl, unfortunately.” You say slowly, but he catches your quiet words anyway.
He’s already tuned into you—has made you into a new game to win, in his mind.
“I can fix that.” Andrei grins, and it’s almost predatory as he smoothly slides his left arm around your waist. “Do you mind if I steal her?” He directs his question to Maria, but doesn’t really give her a chance to answer before pulling you  away.
Turning your head, you find her sending you a grin as she mouths something encouraging, holding up two thumbs-ups. She’s already decided that if she can’t have this sexy Russian, she wants you to instead.
“I like your heels,” His deep voice is in your ear, suddenly, and you take your eyes off of Maria to look up at Andrei, instead. “They’re the color of our jerseys.”
“Thank you,” You breathe, letting the warmth from his compliment wash over you. “Maria made me wear them.”
He clicks his tongue, like this information doesn’t surprise him. “She has good taste. Red is definitely your color.”
You flush again, finding that his eyes are already on you when you tilt your head up. Nobody has ever told you that before… Maria is always the one getting praise, not you.
The fast beating of your heart, shaky limbs and nervous breath, and you already know you’re falling for it. His charm, his looks, his confidence; it’s addicting, and you can’t force yourself to stop as you ever so slightly lean into him, letting his body envelop you.
Before you know it, you’ve arrived at the bar, and Andrei orders a drink over the loud bass that reverberates in your ears. It appears moments later - not fair - and then he’s sliding it towards you. You meet his eyes again as he smiles, raising a brow at your silence before he gestures to take it.
“For you,” He says. “Vodka cranberry. I have a feeling you like the fruity drinks, no?”
He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it. You’re not one for sipping hard, bitter liquor, even if it gets the job done. You’re not sure how you feel about him being able to read you so well, but you do like not having to carry the conversation.
“Am I that transparent?” You grin, though it’s laced with insecurity as you take a sip. It’s good, and helps calm your nerves.
“You wear your heart on your sleeve, malyshka. It’s not a bad thing.”
You wouldn’t know it then, but he already began patronizing you the moment you met him. The Russian language is full of double-meanings, and malyshka, little one, is rather mocking. For him to know you so well already was a good thing for him, but for you? Not so much.
Andrei sees right through you, and he has from the very beginning.
“You’re not American, are you?” You change topic, suddenly, using the unfamiliar term he used as an excuse. “Your accent, it’s foreign.”
“Net—no, I’m not. Most of my teammates are out of country.” He replies. “I’m from Russia. Just here to play hockey.”
“Do you like it? Here in Raleigh?” You ask, a pitiful form of small talk to keep this sudden tension at bay.
“I do.” He replies. “I like it a whole lot more now that I’ve met you, though.” And then he’s smiling again, a grin rather feral as he looks at you like you’re his prey waiting to be devoured. He’s incredibly smooth as he puts his hands back on you, one sliding around the circumference of your waist while the other brings your hand holding the drink to his lips, taking a sip from the glass.
Your eyes go half-lidded at the motion, and Andrei knows he has you—hook, line, and sinker. He loves this game, but he thinks he likes you a little bit more than that, too.
Not that he’ll ever admit it.
“You just met me,” You blurt, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.
Andrei, to his credit, takes your nervousness in stride. He finds it cute that he has that effect on you. “And I like you,” He counters, flashing a dazzling smile. “You’re cute. Small, like kisa.”
“Kisa?” You try out the unfamiliar word, your attempt at a Russian accent definitely not as sexy as his.
“Kitten,” He translates. “Will you purr for me?” It’s so disgustingly cheesy you can’t help but grimace, and Andrei laughs at the look on your face.
He steps closer, even more than he was before, and the way he looks down on you only makes the difference in height that much more noticeable. He’s so big… Normally you’d feel caged, but with him it feels safe, and that’s probably a red flag you won’t discover until much later.
You struggle finding something to say, but he beats you to it. “I’d like your number, if you’re willing to give it.” And he’s so smooth, so conniving with the way he asks it because he’s not demanding at all, letting you think you have all the power.
“Okay,” You breathe, eyes widening in awe as you don’t even have the chance to pull out your phone before he’s sliding his own into your hands. “You can add your contact.” He instructs, watching you type in your information.
It looks informal, your first and last name in his phone like you’re merely a coworker. You’ll blame it on you being tipsy later, but you add a smiley face at the end of your name, hoping it makes you stand out. You don’t know how many girls he has in his contacts but you’re not naive enough to think you’re the only one.
You lick your lips almost subconsciously as you hand Andrei his phone back, and he zeroes in on the motion. Suddenly, he has the urge to kiss you, and so he does just that. It catches you by surprise, but soon enough you’re melting into him as one large hand cradles your jaw, keeping you tilted up to him.
Andrei tastes like sin, like temptation and all things bad you were told to never get involved in as a kid. A forbidden fruit, perhaps, and there’s even hints of cranberry left on his tongue to cement that fact.
“Andrei…” You hum in surprise as he deepens the kiss, his lips soft and heavenly. It takes everything in you to pull back, to separate yourself from the addicting taste of him. “Wait, I don’t, um—”
You pause. Andrei looks confused, perhaps a little alarmed as his eyes flit over your face. “You don’t… Kiss anyone?”
“No! No,” You lower your voice, not wanting to attract any attention. “Of course I do. I just, I don’t hook up. For fun. Ever.”
He frowns, like he can’t fathom the idea that you don’t enjoy sex with no strings attached.
“Really,” he says, not quite a question. “You’re beautiful, though.” The charm comes back full force as his hand comes to brush away some of your hair that had fallen into your face. “Surely you have suitors, no?”
Your throat tightens, and suddenly your eyes are glassy as he looks at you with so much reassurance and affection. “Maria usually gets the ‘suitors’, not me.”
“I don’t believe that.” He responds immediately, and he looks so sure of himself as his head lowers, his eyes looking back and forth from yours to your lips, and you’re helpless to stop him as the hand moving your hair comes to rest on your cheek.
It’s all very convincing, the sudden care and adoration… You’ve never had a man treat you so delicate, like a prized possession, and you fall for it all too quickly.
“Let me take you out?” He soon asks, and there’s nothing you can really respond with other than yes.
Everything happens so quickly from here. Andrei becomes a centerpiece in your life, and you’re helpless to stop it as you fall for everything about him. You don’t truly become his ‘girlfriend’, but you are something more. Secret dates and midnight drives where no one can see you confirm that.
That’s why you think he’s finally turning serious about you when he shows up to your apartment at the beginning of March a few weeks before his playoffs start. He holds a large bouquet of roses, except your favorite flowers are gardenias because they remind you of your mom so your smile wobbles a little bit, but you let it slide for the romanticism of it all.
Andrei grins, the whites of his teeth blinding and he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. He asks you if you’ll come to his playoff games, wear a WAG jacket and act as if what you are is official. You think you truly mean something to him after this, even though he never actually confirms it.
Suddenly you’re Andrei’s girl (but not really) and it becomes your entire identity. You essentially live with him as the playoffs come around, taking care of his apartment while he’s on the road. He talks of getting a dog over the summer, and you’re enthusiastic in your encouragement because you’ll have a friend to keep you company while he’s on the road.
His injury happens, though, and he’s out for good, at least for the rest of the season. You don’t know how to comfort him because your ‘relationship’ is so new, and it’s hard for you to understand why the anger at himself cuts so deep.
Ultimately, you fix the rough patch with sex. Lots and lots of sex. He works through his frustrations by taking you long, hard, and deep, mostly with him on top holding your throat while you take it like the good girl he tells you you are.
“‘Drei, your leg,” You remember saying to him one time as he slams you onto his bed, rolling directly on top of you. He doesn’t seem to hear you at first, too busy laying kisses to your neck.
“I don’t care.” He eventually responds, looking at you so darkly it leaves you shivering. He eats you out afterwards, and, well—you don’t have any more protests after that.
They win the first series against the New York Islanders in six games, and the moment the final goal is scored in overtime you’re jumping out of your seat along with the other WAG’s at one of their houses.
It’s exhilarating, rooting for something with every ounce of your being. You do it for Andrei - who still isn’t playing, but he was there watching - but mostly for yourself because you love the feeling of belonging to a community so close.
The second series ends sooner than the first, a five game victory over the New Jersey Devils, and this time you are at that final game. You sit with Andrei in a private booth at the top of PNC Arena, gripping his arm that also holds onto your thigh with the same amount of intensity.
The moment the final goal is scored - also in overtime - you’re hunching over your seat releasing a long breath. Andrei attempts to rise, then likely remembers his leg which forces him to grip the arms of his chair in strained acceptance.
“They did it,” You hear him whisper, like he can’t believe they actually came out of this series alive. “They did it.” He repeats himself, louder and more confident. You’re still folded over yourself, letting the anxiety drain out of you when he grabs your hand and tangles your fingers together.
“My kisa,” He says, waiting for you to turn your head so he can smile brilliantly at you. “We did it.”
“Not we,” And you grin back, because there’s nothing else for you to do but match his ecstasy. “You did it.”
“I didn’t even play,” Andrei is laughing, soaking in your praise like a sponge. “But I was here, wasn’t I?”
“You mean more to them than you’ll ever know.” More to me than you’ll ever know, you want to say, but hold back on that particular vulnerability.
After he finishes the team meeting in the locker room, you take him back to his house. He still hasn’t been given the all clear to drive, so you’ve taken up caretaker duties along with his mother.
You don’t think she likes you very much, either, but Andrei just says it takes a while for her to warm up to new people. Thankfully, she’s never around when you are though, because as you close the front door to his house he gives you a look equating to a meal he wants to devour.
Andrei seems to forget all about his knee, again, when he moves into you, pushing you back against the front door. “You drive me crazy.” He mumbles into your lips, and you don’t think you’re meant to respond as he moves to your neck.
You wore his jersey tonight, hoping it would bring the team good luck. You also happen to like how possessive he gets when he sees you in his clothes, especially wearing his name. It’s a little ridiculous, but you can’t lie and say you don’t love the attention.
Biting into your jugular, he tastes your rapidly beating heart before moving on, addicted to the sound of the moan that chokes its way out of your throat.
“I’m going to fuck you,” He breathes, massaging his hands into your waist as he pulls you away from the door. “And you’re going to love it, aren’t you? Because you’re such a good girl. My good girl.” His raspy voice leaves you holding back a whimper, and it’s hard to speak as he begins to sneak his hands under your jersey.
When you don’t respond because you’re too distracted by his hands, his damn hands, trailing up your ribs, he digs his fingers harshly into your skin. Your eyes snap open to find him almost glaring.
“Yes,” You think he wants to hear you say. “I’m yours.” You babble as his fingers let up, moving to cup your breasts over your bra as he pinches your nipples into hard points.
“That’s right,” He hums almost mockingly, hands now back to your waist as he pulls you after him to the path of his room. “No one else can make you feel like I do, yeah?”
This time he doesn’t expect a response as he pushes his door open, turning you around as you fall into his bed. Your head spins as the jersey you’re wearing rides up and Andrei quickly does the rest, slipping it off you with ease.
“Fuck,” You think he says, but you could care less as his bare hands are back on you, kneading the soft skin of your stomach and trailing back up the length of your torso. “No shirt underneath?”
“It was too hot outside,” You reply, breathless as you attempt to tug his suit and tie off, but that quickly proves to be more difficult. He tsks, thankfully deciding to aid you as he rids himself of his jacket. “You’re lucky that jersey is so thick.” He says, moreso to himself as he begins unbuttoning his slacks.
All that’s left is his undershirt and boxers, meanwhile you’re still left in your bra, jeans, and panties. Andrei must realize this too as he kicks his slacks off somewhere behind him. “Strip,” He commands, but you don’t need the reminder as you’re already one step ahead of him.
Your jeans and panties come off quickly, but it’s harder to remove your bra lying down. You eye the delicious specimen of a man above you, reaching out your hand for his own. “Help me?” You ask, biting your bottom lip before rolling onto your stomach.
Andrei mutters something behind you, but it’s clearly appraisal as the first thing his hands land on is your bare ass. He spends a few moments appreciating the view before his fingers trail up your back, unclipping your bra much quicker than you ever could have.
“You, kisa, are dangerous,” He teases, lowering himself to where his solid chest is pressing down on your back. He loves taking you from behind, tangling his hands in your hair while you’re left to his mercy.
He noses his way past your hair to reach your neck, lightly nipping the skin as you sigh, your head melting to the side so he can continue his ministrations.
“Andrei, please,” You hiss, the wetness between your thighs now too prominent to ignore. You wiggle your hips tantalizingly, hoping to catch his attention.
He grins into your neck, doesn’t respond as he presses a final kiss to your pulse point before pulling back, his right hand sweeping the rest of your hair to the side.
“You need me to touch you?” He asks, smoothing his left hand over your hip before slipping it to the inside of your thighs. His fingers find your clit, rubbing it ever so lightly to feel you flinch with sensitivity underneath him.
You tremble underneath him as he continues stroking you, and your hips jerk upward when two of his fingers slip past your walls and curl. He’s laughing as your ears ring, and already you’re so close to coming when his thumb rubs circles on your clit in time with the thrust of his hand.
Just like everything else about you, though, he knows; he knows and he pulls back before you even have the chance to swear because then the last layer of clothing between you is gone. His boxers are thrown somewhere behind him along with his undershirt, and now he wastes no time pulling your hips up, leaving your chest pressed into the bed.
So used to this familiar position, you look behind you in anticipation to find him stroking his cock, staring at your glistening pussy with barely contained arousal. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for, but then he’s sliding his free hand through your soaked lips to gather the wetness there, using it as lubricant.
“Shit,” He says, swearing more to himself before climbing atop you. It’s routine the way he grabs your hair, tangles it in his fingers while the other guides his swollen cock to your entrance. The bulbous head pushes into you with ease, finding no resistance as he sinks into you.
Andrei hisses, mutters something in Russian, then is lowering his head to press his lips to your ear. “Fuck, you’re tight. You just feel so good all the time, you know that, kisa?”
The only sound capable of coming out your mouth is a whimper as you bury your face into the sheets as his hips begin thrusting, hitting your sweet spot with bullseye accuracy each time.
The girth of him stretches you out deliciously, and it leaves your walls clenching and unclenching rhythmically in time with his movements. You mold to him like your body was made for him, like there’s no other way to exist without him taking you in such primal fashion.
Andrei’s head rests in the crook of your neck, murmuring indiscernible phrases while his hands trail up and down your body. His hips rut against your clit each time he thrusts forward, and if anything you get wetter at the thought of him fucking you so callously.
You feel like his most precious belonging sometimes, like an object. It can be disorienting when he talks to you like you’re a child, but when he fucks you it’s like that preciousness he views you with is amplified.
You flinch upward when his cock curves into you just right, and the way he coos into your ear to bring you back down only verifies that thought. He wants to take care of you, always—even if it demeans you.
Andrei suddenly rolls over onto his back, bringing you with him to where you’re the one on top with your back laying against his chest. He sits up, and now you’re in his lap, thighs spread to the side as he once again begins fucking into you.
Your mouth opens into a silent scream as your head rolls back onto his shoulder, the new angle forcing his cock into deeper lengths inside you, and it hurts but it hurts so good and why were you ever questioning how he treats you, again?
How has only one man ever been able to make you feel this good?
Euphoria floods your veins as his hands find purchase on your body, one taking your left tit and rolling your nipple between his fingers while the other sneaks down to the junction of your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing over it mercilessly.
When your stomach starts clenching and your lower spine tingles, Andrei is right back at your ear whispering encouragement. “That’s it, angel,” He praises. “That’s it. You want to come, yeah? Do it. I’ve got you.”
His name leaves your mouth as a breathless whine, and you struggle not to flinch away from his touch when it becomes too much but also not enough, and somehow he knows this and just holds you tighter.
When his cock hits you so deliciously good while his thumb swipes over your clit, you fall. You fall hard, the walls of your cunt seizing around him as ecstasy takes over your body. Sparks fly across your skin, stars filling the empty blackness behind your closed eyes and you think you’re sobbing Andrei’s name but you can’t be sure. The only thing you can be sure of is him; his cock inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, his teeth on your neck as he approaches his high.
Yours lasts for longer than normal because he doesn’t stop moving—if anything, he goes faster, because the sight and feeling of sending you into a spiral only triggers his own release.
By now you’re motionless, unable to even lift your head as it remains lying against his shoulder. Andrei’s thrusts are frenzied, more sloppy and less precise, until he’s throwing his own back with a long, pleasure-filled groan.
Eventually, he stills. His chest is rising and falling behind you rapidly, attempting to collect himself now that his mind is back in the present. You sigh, quietly yet happy, as his cock softens inside you but doesn’t move, his release slowly trickling down your conjoined bodies.
You suddenly remember that he didn’t lose a condom, but then you remind yourself that you’d stopped using condoms weeks before. You were already on birth control, and he assured you this was exclusive.
You were a fool to believe him.
Andrei soon moves, his hands taking to your hips as he gently lifts you off of him. “I know,” He says when you hiss with sensitivity. “I’ve got you, good girl…” He lays you on your back, and you don’t move from your position even as he leaves the room.
Your eyes soon flutter shut, and you curl to the side as the minutes go by with no sign of return. It’s not regret that fills your mind, no, but another emotion, something stronger than just satisfaction at getting such a pleasurable release.
You don’t dare to think of the world ‘love’, but maybe something similar to that is what you’re feeling?
It doesn’t help that just as you’re on the verge of falling asleep, Andrei comes back to your naked form while he’s now adorned in sweatpants. You merely hum as he sits on the edge of his bed next to you, one of his hands reaching out to trail up your arm. When he reaches your face he brushes away the hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead from cooling sweat, letting your skin breathe.
He says something, so quiet it’s impossible to hear over the sound of your thundering heart, and you don’t have the energy to ask as you finally succumb to exhaustion.
Andrei cleans you up after, dries the inside of your legs and slides one of his t-shirts over you. He tucks you under his sheets and pulls you into his arms, letting your hair tickle his cheeks.
The Eastern Conference Final arrives far quicker than any of you are prepared for, and games one and two against the Florida Panthers are full of anxious nail-biting and frustrated cursing when the puck hits the goal post.
Both games end in overtime losses, and the team has to play games three and four in enemy territory, down by two.
Andrei, understandably, isn’t taking it well. It's hard for the players on the ice, of course, but even harder when he has to sit at the sidelines, hidden in a booth at the top of the arena with you doing your best to comfort him.
“Why can’t they just fucking score?” You remember him hissing before the end of regulation in game two, not angry at his teammates but at the situation instead.
And himself, too, because he is the injured one. He is the one who tore his ACL making it so that he couldn’t play. It isn’t his fault, but it is at the same time and that’s what’s truly getting to him.
As the timer hit zero, he’d leaned back in his chair and grabbed your hand without thought, squeezing your fingers to the point of strangulation.
You let him, though, because at that point you’d let him do anything.
“I’m sorry.” You said, your eyes on him the entire time. It pained you to see him so miserable, and there was nothing you could do to make it better. “This isn’t your fault. It’s… Blame Bobrovsky, okay? He’s just too—”
You interrupted yourself, not wanting to say ‘good’ even if that’s true because you didn’t want to upset him with the implication that his teammates couldn’t be better.
Andrei, to give him credit, didn’t take offense. His eyes were on you the moment you started your ramble, and as you finally paused to gauge the look on his face you found amusement and unbridled affection in his gaze.
“Too good?” He finished your sentence, waiting for your meek nod of confirmation. Merely sighing, he only brought your intertwined fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top of your hand. “You’re right, kisa. He is too good.”
You stay back in Raleigh while the team, including Andrei, takes flight to Sunrise, Florida. Most of the WAG’s stay back too, the majority already anticipating the result of this series.
Hours after the team’s flight, Maria calls you late on the eve of game three.
“Hey, Mare!” You answer, lowering the volume of whatever show is on the television to better hear her. “What’s up?”
“Hey, girl!” She chirps, and you can hear voices in the background so you assume she’s somewhere busy. “Just landed in Florida!”
“You flew to Florida?” You ask, choking slightly. “Since when?”
“Don’t you remember? I told you! The team needed extra people since we’re staying here for longer than a night.”
“Oh, shit, yeah,” Is all you say because you don’t, in fact, remember, and suddenly feel really guilty about it. You haven’t actually spoken to Maria face-to-face in weeks, having been caught up in everything Andrei-related.
You haven’t talked to lots of people you were close to before Andrei came into the picture, now that you think about it. It’s a problem you’re sure to reflect on when you’re done talking to your friend.
“...bunch of us are going out tonight since the game isn’t until later tomorrow night, including a lot of the team.”
Maria’s voice tunes back in, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts to catch-up. “Really?” You inquire, now suddenly interested. “Is Andrei going with them?”
You could ask him yourself, sure, but you don’t really talk about that stuff, what he does or what you do in your free time. It always felt invasive to ask because you weren’t quite sure if you even had the right to, considering the nature of your relationship.
You doubt he thinks about what you do when you’re not with him, anyway, so you always just assume you can live in the moment with him and have that be good enough.
“Dunno,” She replies. “Can’t you ask him yourself? You’re seeing the man, after all.” You can hear the smirk in her voice at the last sentence.
“Um,” You stall, because no, you can’t just ask. “He just got off the plane, I don’t want to bother him.”
“Mhm,” Maria hums, and you can’t tell if she’s suspicious or not by her tone alone. “True. I’ll just text you if anything interesting happens, okay? Sound good?”
“Sounds good,” You can’t help but laugh at her sudden hastiness, and soon enough she’s hanging up the phone with the claim that the team bus is there to take her to the hotel.
As your call with Maria is in the early afternoon, you have a while to wait before all night life in Florida begins, so any updates will take time to roll in. You know this, and yet you can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.
Distracting yourself by shopping helps, as does meeting up with a few of the WAG’s for a late lunch. You’re able to put your anxiety in the back of your mind for the rest of the day, and as the sun sets you pull back up to Andrei’s house and let yourself in with the spare key given to you, mind at peace as you float around his living space in preparation for bed.
You almost considered his place your home now, rather than your actual apartment. You’ve been spending so much time here, with him and also alone as everything with him seems to be going so good… When you settle into his bed, wearing one of Andrei’s large t-shirts and boxers, you check your phone one last time for any updates.
There’s a few Instagram notifications, one or two emails from your university, only one message in the groupchat with the WAG’s, and a text from Andrei which is what you zero in on first.
Settled in the hotel now. Leg is hurting, so I’m going to bed early tonight. Text you tomorrow, okay?
There’s no silly emojis, no indication of any emotion in his text, and yet you read the message with a smile, insecurities officially gone. His teammates are going out tonight, not him, and you don’t have to worry about Maria texting you later because there would be nothing to update you on.
How could you have ever doubted him?
You fall asleep peacefully, unbeknownst to the fact that long after midnight, your phone begins blowing up with silent notifications from Maria. She does, in fact, send you updates of her night out, but not updates you’ll smile at when you wake up the next day.
Sunlight filtered through closed eyes is what has you slowly awakening to the world of consciousness, and you stretch your arms with a yawn before reaching for your phone first thing. It’s hot to the touch, and at first you attribute that to it being stuck under your pillow the entire night, but upon unlocking the screen you discover that that is not the case.
WTF did you and Andrei break up?????
He’s here with the rest of the guys and he’s highkey flirting with some randos???
I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were done w/ him!
You’re prettier than them btw. I snuck a few pics
Several more messages from Maria have taken over your inbox, those are just the first you see. It takes your brain a minute to catch-up, but when it finally does you’re sitting up with bated breath as you tap on one of the images she sent.
It’s definitely Andrei—you’d know his face anywhere. He is, in fact, surrounded by girls in the picture, his arm wrapped around the waist of a gorgeous blonde with a drink in his other hand, and it’s so reminiscent of the way he holds you at clubs that you know, you know immediately that this is what you meant to him all along.
The affectionate name-calling, gentle hand-holding and constant touching… You thought he looked back at you like you hung the moon, but now you’re realizing that maybe you were just projecting the reflection of your own starstruck eyes instead.
You sit up in bed, hand pressed to your forehead as a sudden headache rips through your brain. What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Remembering that you’re actually in this man’s house, in his clothes, too, has you jumping up like you’ve been burned, and you quickly exit the bedroom to collapse on the couch instead.
“Oh my god,” You whisper to yourself, in disbelief as you click through more of the images sent to you from last night. There’s no denying to yourself that he was with these women, all while supposedly having a significant other waiting for him at home.
There’s no one to witness the slow breakdown of your sanity, and you can’t even cry because you’re so in shock about what you’re seeing
Is this real? Are you real? Is this really happening?
It’s almost like a switch in your brain goes off, and very quickly you drop your phone. You take a deep breath, you bury your raging emotions, and you stand up from the couch to start your day.
You refuse to allow yourself to break down now. Not when you still haven’t spoken to him. At the very least you’ll wait until you have an explanation…
To confront him on your very strong feelings you’ve been doing your best to ignore until now, because they’re too real in the wake of this discovery to just vanish away like you’ve done before.
You need to know where you stand with him. Truly, because these pictures you can’t stop thinking about? It’s too much. You can’t pretend it doesn’t feel like thousands of little knives stabbing your heart repeatedly even if it all means nothing to him.
Everything goes back to normal. Everything is fine. You never saw those pictures, ignored Maria's continuing calls and acted as if your world wasn’t suddenly tilted on its axis.
Andrei doesn’t text you at all throughout the day, which can probably be attributed to preparation of game three, but all you can think about are the girls he might be texting.
Because he certainly isn’t texting you.
Game three results in a loss, a bad one, and it would pain you to see the reactions on their faces filtered through the television if you weren’t so numb.
He still doesn’t text you. Doesn’t call, either, and Maria eventually gives up on trying to reach you as game four approaches.
The impending doom of Andrei bares down on you like a vice, slowly strangling you in the screaming silence of his house you still remain in. Maybe this is something you should have seen coming because it isn’t the first time he’s gone radio silent, you just assumed he was busy—because that’s what he told you.
You’re starting to think that maybe you shouldn’t have listened.
You love him though, right? That’s why you believed him? That’s what you’re feeling right now, why it’s like you can barely breathe when you think of his smile or the way he’s betrayed you so?
The Panthers sweep the Hurricanes, a complete four-game victory that sends Andrei and the rest of the team licking their wounds all the way back to North Carolina. You don’t watch the fourth game with anyone but yourself and a bottle of wine while catching up on homework for one of your classes.
Becoming so close to Andrei meant you became close to the rest of his teammates too, to the point where you’d consider some of them your good friends, so seeing their faces broadcasted live after the final goal is devastating to see.
Not as devastating as the text you receive, though, in the midst of trying to figure out what to say to him the moment he steps foot inside his house.
I won’t be home tonight, heading straight out with some of the younger guys. I will see you tomorrow
Well. You can’t say you’re surprised. You’re willing to bet money he’s out sleeping with some random girl whose name he won’t remember the next day. Instead of letting the anxiety take over, anger takes its place instead.
And boy do you run with it because anger is so much better than feeling powerless. It simmers in your blood, a wildfire settling low in your stomach until you’re practically shaking while waiting for Andrei to walk through the front door the next day.
When he finally does, you’re so mad you’re numb. Your anger has turned you into a ghost, an attempt at protecting your fragile heart from more heartbreak likely to fall upon you the moment he tries to charm you back into his good graces.
Once he spots you sitting on the couch, he smiles in greeting. It’s soft, and you’d like to say affectionate, but you no longer can tell how deep his feelings run for you.
Clearly, not deep enough.
“Kisa,” He says. “How are you? I’m sorry I was out late.”
“It’s fine,” You respond tightly. Andrei doesn’t seem to notice, merely nods before walking past you to the kitchen. You follow him silently, trying to figure out how to phrase your next words.
You end up settling on a subtle approach. “I’m sorry about the games… I know it must’ve sucked having to watch.”
He scoffs immediately, mutters something you don’t catch but still doesn’t turn around to face you as he rummages through his fridge. “It definitely was not fun to sit there, no.” He replies.
“Is that why you didn’t come back last night? You were coping with the loss?” You’re hoping your strong reference to his late-night escapades will spark something in him, but alas you still seem to be wrong and all he does is cast you a furtive glance before going back to his business.
God, you were just going to have to wring this out of him, weren’t you?
“Andrei,” You start, taking a deep breath. He still doesn’t stir. “Andrei, I know.”
Finally, he stops. Pauses mid-motion of whatever he’s doing, and his shoulders seem to tense in preparation of your foreboding words.
“There’s other girls, right? It’s not just me?” Your voice is already wobbling, and you’re glad he’s still refusing to face you because your eyes are slowly filling with tears, the agony of these last few days catching up to you.
This is when Andrei finally turns around. He meets your eyes last after scanning up and down your body; the clothes you’re wearing that aren’t his, your nails digging into your hands, and finally the bright flush of your face as you struggle not to explode.
“What do you mean?” Is what he says, looking at you calculatingly.
“Don’t play dumb with me, ‘Drei,” You whisper, invisible wires constricting around your throat as you force yourself to continue speaking. “Maria told me. She saw you. And you lied to me.”
Andrei doesn’t speak. He just stares, fingers clenching and unclenching like he can’t decide if he should approach you or not. After what seems like hours of silent battle, he replies, starting out by saying your name like a warning. “She… Maria had no right to tell you that.”
“Because I’m not actually your girlfriend, right?” Your response is immediate, and it hurts him if the flinch on his face is anything to go by. “You don’t owe me anything. Not a title, responsibility. You never promised me any of that so sleeping with other girls is perfectly okay.”
Everything you’re saying is true but it’s all wrong the way you’re looking at each other. Tears are now openly streaming down your cheeks and Andrei hasn’t moved since the moment you opened your mouth.
“Nothing to say?” It’s defeated, your entire demeanor as your shoulders sag and you fight the urge to collapse. “Yeah. I—I wouldn’t know what to say either.”
“I’m sorry,” Andrei whispers, and he doesn’t fight you which makes it all the more devastating. Everything you’re saying is true and it’s still all so wrong but he isn’t fighting you and wow, you’re really about to lose him, aren’t you?
“I think the worst part of this for me is that I actually let myself fall in love with you.” It’s your last-ditch effort of getting something out of him, anything that proves this isn’t completely one-sided on your end.
Andrei looks gutted at that. But he steels his resolve, his eyes go cold and he clenches his jaw as you try, one last time, to reach him.
“Do you love me?”
He’s staring at the wall behind you. No words fall from the lips you’ve kissed a thousand times until they finally do, and this is when you come to the realization that you’re ruined. You won’t ever look at another man the same because Andrei will forever haunt you in everything that you are and what you do.
“No. I don’t.”
You don’t put up much of a fight after that. You wave your white flag and slip past him to grab the small bag you’d packed earlier in preparation.
Andrei doesn’t move from his spot in the kitchen once. His face is tight, eyes dark and anguished as you drop his spare key on the counter. You look at him one last time, will him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t.
He never does—so you leave and you don’t look back.
It hurts worse because there really wasn’t a fight. There was no screaming, breaking glass, hurling insults at each other; it was a quiet acceptance of the end of a relationship that had no chance of lasting.
That’s what gets you. Not just because it’s over, but because he doesn’t love you like you love him.
You can’t believe you let yourself fall for it.
When you finally make it back to your apartment it feels like walking into an alternate reality, especially after an agonizing drive back full of nothing but silence and your thoughts.
You’ve practically lived with Andrei the last few months so much that you’ve forgotten you had a life before him. Maria comes to your mind immediately at that thought, and you can’t think of anything else you need more right now than your best friend.
Her phone only rings twice before she picks up. She says your name warily, likely because she hasn’t heard a word from you in two days.
“Hey,” You whimper, and you hate that you can tell how broken you sound. “Um, you were right. About Andrei. I… Talked to him about it. We’re done.”
There’s silence on the other end for several moments. Then:
“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. I’m coming over, and I’m bringing the fattest bottle of wine known to man, okay?”
You can’t help but laugh through your tears.
“Don’t respond, you can’t say no. I’ll see you in a few!”
And, well, you do nothing but let her hang up as you stare at your blank lock screen for a minute. Something possesses you to try and freshen up even though it’s just Maria, so you make your way to your bathroom.
Opening the door, your eyes land on your reflection in the mirror, your tear-stained eyes the same color red as the lipstick you wore the first time you met him. The same red of your heart, too, as you feel the shattering of it now more than ever.
It all goes back to him. Everything about you, your identity as ‘his girl’ reducing you to someone who doesn’t exist without him.
Fuck you, Andrei, you want to yell. Fuck you and fuck everything you put me through.
As you furiously rub your eyes, you realize you don’t know who you are anymore. You let yourself be molded into an unfamiliar version of yourself, into someone just for Andrei to want to keep around.
The tears start again, and you’re left sniffling in the suffocating silence of your bathroom. The only person who knew you, the you now, is gone.
And suddenly, you find yourself alone.
Well… Not totally alone. “Fuck him!” Maria shouts after she breaks into your apartment (she has your spare key) after you’d collapsed onto your couch and refused to open the door. “Seriously, fuck him. You’re way too good for him.”
“Weren’t you the one who convinced me to sleep with him in the first place?” Is your weak rebuttal, muffled and almost imperceptible as your head is burrowed in a pillow.
Your friend tsks, likely waving her arms around in that expressive way she does. “Yes, well. I never claimed to see the future. But now we know him for the piece of shit he is!”
Maria is your closest friend, yes, but you also know her to be someone who tells you what you want to hear. Right now, you’re feeling vengeful and angry, so she’s feeding into those emotions to make you feel better.
You know, in two months time or however long it takes you to process this, when you start missing him and tiptoe around the idea of calling him, she’ll support you then, too.
Which probably isn’t what you need, but, whatever. You’re just grateful you have someone on your side.
“I need…” You start, not quite sure how to phrase what you’re wanting. “I need to forget.”
“A one nightstand type of forget or get so drunk you pass out type of forget?”
You wrinkle your nose at the thought of sleeping with someone so soon. As much as you hate it, you don’t think you’ll ever stop craving Andrei’s body.
No man ever could make you feel that good…
“Get drunk,” You say, quirking a small smile at the whoop she lets out. “I can’t fuck someone right now. At least not yet.”
“Yeah,” The blonde agrees, sighing almost wistfully. “I’d feel the same if I knew what his dick felt like.”
“Maria!” You shriek, throwing a spare pillow as hard as you can her way. It misses, but does the job of lightening the mood and keeps you giggling the rest of the night.
She does her job in making you forget, though. Makes you put on one of your shortest dresses and gets you drink after drink until you’re hunched over a toilet in the back of some bar gagging your stomach out.
You wake up the next day with the worst hangover ever, but Maria is fairing the same and somehow you consider it worth it. Maybe you can live your life again without him.
You’ve done it before, right?
And really, it’s ridiculous when you let yourself think about how you’d only been seeing the man for five months and he completely managed to send your world careening in that timespan. So, you don’t let yourself think about it. Instead, you live.
For yourself, for your friends, for your heart that won’t ever be full but feels a little bit better every time you wake up each day without Andrei next to you.
You graduate university with your bachelor’s and get a job that’s even better than your last, and you make a really good group of friends at said-job without Maria’s help (though she’ll always be your best). The summer passes by with melancholy laughter and gentle healing, and while your first love always remains in the back of your mind, you think about him less.
So much less that you lose track of time, not even realizing that October of twenty twenty-three is here and the NHL season is starting back up. You haven’t spoken to any of the WAG’s since you broke it off with Andrei, assuming you would no longer be welcome in the ‘clique’ and preferring to separate yourself from a group associated with someone who brought you so much pain, so there haven’t been any reminders about the new season from them.
The memories of him are fleeting. They’ll come to you at random times, and now that you’ve lived in the past yet again, you can forget about the end where Andrei is a distant thought but every time his name is brought up it squeezes your heart so much you can’t breathe.
You’re doing better. Truly, you are. You’d stopped crying over him long ago, and you might have gone to class with swollen eyes and showed up to work despondent, but you’re working through it in your own way. Healing isn’t linear but you’re making progress slowly but surely.
One day, you wake up with a sudden determination to officially ‘get back out there’, per Maria’s words. There’s nothing spectacular about this day; it’s only mid-November, the weather in that awkward stage of autumn morphing into winter.
Maybe it’s because the night before you’d succumbed to the urge to search up the Hurricanes’ schedule, curious to when they’d be home and not.
It’s only a coincidence that they have a home game when you call your friends from work, asking if they’d like to go out after everyone gets off. It’s also a coincidence when you meet someone at said-bar you attend, and it’s absolutely insane how if you squint he kind of looks like Andrei.
Oh, but he’s so, so sweet… His name is Jack and he buys you and your friends drinks, keeps a respectful distance yet never strays far when you’re wrapped into another conversation. He asks for your number at the end of the night and you give it to him without hesitation, taking note of the way he creates your contact in his phone himself.
“You like cats?” He asks as he’s still typing away, and your breath catches in your throat because it’s a question that makes you think of the first night you met him. When you don’t respond, he gestures towards your keychain attached to the strap of your handbag.
“You have little kittens on your keychain. I think that’s what I’ll add to your name, yeah?” Jack laughs a little shyly, and it’s cute but you keep replaying kisa in your mind over and over in a Russian accent you never could quite imitate.
“Yeah, I do like cats,” You say, flushing at the sudden amusement in his eyes. “I like them a lot.”
Jack doesn’t waste any time texting you the next day, and the normalcy of it freaks you out a little. Where’s the anxiety? The stomach-dropping nerves that come with talking to someone new? The constant wondering if they like you or not?
It’s so safe and secure that it hurts, because it was never like that before.
Everyone in your life is so supportive, though, but that only makes it worse because they can see how good this man is for you, but why can’t you? You feel like pulling your hair out when he texts you good morning and goodnight and sick to your stomach when he shows up during your lunch break with flowers.
However, there’s no one is more enthusiastic about Jack's new presence in your life than Maria.
“He’s a dream guy, honestly,” She swoons, kicking her feet back on her ottoman. “You’re so lucky. I would kill for a guy I met at a bar to be so smitten with me he shows up to my job with flowers.”
You hum in agreement, unable to come up with something to say. “He… Yeah, it’s nice, I guess.”
The blonde eyes you from where you’re curled up on her couch, deliberately avoiding her stare as you mindlessly watch whatever is on the TV. “You guess? He’s perfect!”
“On paper,” You retort, huffing slightly in frustration at yourself because why can’t you see what everyone else sees? “I don’t really know him.”
“Yet. You don’t really know him yet.” She helpfully points out. “Why don’t you want to give him a chance?”
“I… I do. I am giving him a chance. Maybe I’m just not feeling it.”
“He’s not Andrei, babe.”
You fight the powerful urge to scoff. I know, you want to scream. I know. That’s the problem.
Jack is too perfect for you. You want the ups and downs, the electrifying chemistry, the undeniable connection you’ve felt with no one else before. You crave the feeling of those past five months, of being with someone who lit you up to your very core.
It’s been almost eight months and you still can’t get him out of your head.
You give Jack a rightful chance, though, like everyone in your life is begging you to. You can’t bring yourself to end it because there really is nothing wrong, it’s a perfect getting-to-know-you stage which checks off all the boxes. It’s just that you don’t want normal because normal is boring.
You want chaos. And Andrei is chaos personified.
Unbeknownst to you, Maria is still very good friends with a lot of the WAG’s and talks about you when they ask. They miss you, it turns out, but your friend never tells you this in fear of sending you into a depressive spiral that tends to happen when they’re brought up. They’re ecstatic to hear that your life seems to be going so well after the breakup, especially after seeing Andrei’s reaction to it all.
This is something Maria doesn’t tell you, either. She’s such a good friend, protecting your heart like that. Andrei did not come out of his house after you ended it the same person; he was a little darker, a little angrier, frustrated in a way that suggested nothing could be done to fix it.
It doesn’t help that he couldn’t take it out by playing hockey, because he wasn’t cleared to play until the end of October, a month into the regular season.
He never admits his sour mood is partly to blame you for. Not that it’s your fault—he’s the one who fucked up, not you.
Never you.
Maria knows all of this and still gives him the cold shoulder for his treatment of you. None of the girls were very happy after finding out while his teammates just gave him awkward pats on the back. It doesn’t stop him from finding out about you, though, and what you’re up to.
The WAG’s talk. They’re gossip machines, and while normally he hates them for it because he always has to watch what he says around them, this time he’s thankful because they tell their husbands and boyfriends everything.
He’s at Martin and his girlfriend, Nykki’s, apartment watching their cavapoo, Gigi, when he finds out you’re seeing someone new. They’re heatedly talking about something when they walk in and don’t see him on the floor cuddling Gigi, so he doesn’t interrupt.
“I mean, I’m not surprised, but wow. It certainly took her a while to move on, didn’t it?”
He hears a smack, assumes Nykki has hit him on the arm like she typically does when he pisses her off. “She loved him, of course it took time!”
“Ow!” He hisses, though it’s clearly in jest. “Well, yeah, but like… It’s been months. And it’s not like she’s in contact with any of us anymore to remind her of him.” Andrei notes the sourness in his teammate’s voice, feels his heart drop because he thinks he knows who they’re talking about, now.
“Still,” Nykki replies. “I was so sad after my first heartbreak. They take a while to heal from, especially when it’s not a clean ending. It’s no secret how Andrei treated her.” She’s frowning when she continues. “I wish I could give her a hug, but I get it. I wouldn’t want to see any of us, either.”
Martin sighs. “I get it, too. I sure do miss the wine she’d bring though. She had the best fucking taste, ever.”
“Of course you only miss her for her alcohol.”
Andrei decides to clear his throat at this moment. When he does so, Martin and Nykki whip their heads towards him on the floor, surprise and guilt decorating their faces when they see him holding Gigi rather dejectedly.
He starts by saying your name, even surprises himself when it comes out biting and, dare he say it… Jealous? “She’s seeing someone?”
Martin and Nykki share a glance. Gigi chooses this as the time to leap up from his lap and run towards her parents where Martin happily picks her up. “I’m going to go take her out. Thanks for watching, ‘Drei!” He quickly flees the apartment, and Nykki says something under her breath as she glares after him.
They both know Andrei isn’t letting this go.
“Do you remember Maria, her friend? Works in the Hurricanes’ marketing department?” She eventually says, joining him on the floor.
“The blonde one? Yes,” He replies, and even though there are many blondes working for the team he knows exactly who she’s talking about. She’s your best friend, after all, and he knows everything about you.
Like how he knows you will never get over him. Conceited? Yes, but he had (has) you wrapped around his finger.
“Well, she talks to a lot of us still, despite everything that happened. And she tells us things.” Nykki pauses, almost like she’s scared to go on.
“Things like?” Andrei inquires. “How she is doing? Who she is doing?”
She glares at him then, eyes narrowing into slits. “Not that you really have a right to know, but yes.”
His fingers dig into his palms and his jaw cramps with how much he’s trying to keep from exploding.
“So, she’s seeing some guy now?” He scoffs like the very idea is incredulous. As if whatever pathetic excuse of a man you’re talking to could ever compare to him.
“She has a right to move on, Andrei. You should too. You ruined her.”
That fact remains true, but he still has no desire to ever let you go as he deliberately ignores her advice, well-meaning as it is.
How ruined could you really be if you’re already with somebody else?
Unfortunately, it’s impossible to run into you because you avoid him like the plague. You know everywhere he and his teammates frequent so you stopped showing up long ago, and he’s pretty sure you keep a several hundred-foot radius between you and PNC Arena at all times. He doesn’t blame you, but it pisses him off to know he can’t easily find you.
Christmas passes, you spend it with Jack and Andrei spends it with his Russian teammates. The New Year arrives just as quickly, and as he locks lips with some random girl at the party he’s at he thinks of you. Wonders who you’re with, if you’re kissing that guy Nykki told him about.
You actually flew back home to spend it with your parents, giving Jack some weak excuse about how you weren’t able to see them over the holidays.
North Carolina winter is in full force as February of twenty twenty-four rolls around, and your life remains inexplicably boring while Andrei’s picks up. The Hurricanes are finally having a redemption arc after their awful first-half of the season, and thus are heading out to celebrate far more often than normal.
They’re more daring in where they choose to go, too, wanting to branch out of their norms, because why not?
This is really unfortunate for you. Horrifying, actually, because you’re out with your friends, Jack, and his friends too when the team comes strolling in. Eyes instantly shoot their way, aweing at the miniature celebrities in their own right for finally bringing a good professional sports team to NC.
The moment Andrei steps foot in the establishment you know. Your skin catches fire, your ears ring, and your heart thunders inside your chest because only man can set off your senses so powerfully.
You look away from Jack - who thankfully doesn’t notice, he’s sucked into a conversation with one of his friends - and find Andrei approaching the bar with Martin and Seth. He hasn’t noticed you yet and you try to keep that from happening as you sink down into your seat, flashing your friends an exaggerated smile when they eye you curiously.
You’re unable to hide for long, though, when a song bursts from the speakers and sends everyone into an excited frenzy, your group included as they crowd the dance.
Luckily you’re able to escape that particular rally and wave Jack off when he asks you if you’re okay. “I’m fine,” You shout over the bass rattling your eardrums. “Just letting my drink settle a bit.”
He doesn’t question you, merely nods and smiles before disappearing somewhere with his friends. Now, you’re alone, and you can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing because now you have a perfect view of Andrei and his teammates leaning against the bar, looking far too good as they do so.
You can’t keep your eyes off him. You never could, especially can’t now as you soak up every little change your eyes can see. He has a scruff now, a sexy five o’clock shadow that you know firsthand how it feels between your thighs. His hair is a little longer, too—you wonder if it’s still as soft as you remember.
Jack suddenly appears from a break in the crowd and oh, yeah, fuck you can’t be thinking about your ex like this, can you? No, you aren’t officially with Jack, but it’s still wrong. He likes you so much, you know this, and you… Don’t hate him?
Fuck, fuck, fuck, you bemoan to yourself, torn between the angel on your left and the devil on your right that don’t give you the chance to decide because you feel eyes baring into your skull, begging you to notice them. Your entire being freezes, stuck in between some weird limbo as you lock eyes with Andrei for the first time in months.
There’s no one else but you and him as neither one of you refuses to break first, and you only lose eye contact when a group of people walks between you. When they’re gone and you’re able to freely look again, you realize he’s gone from his spot at the bar. All his teammates are still there, and they’ve now spotted you too.
Would it be wrong to call an uber and just tell Jack you felt sick?
Your name is suddenly being whispered into your ear, and you would have flinched if the sound of his voice didn’t have you relaxing back into your seat. You refuse to look up at first, because if you look at him so close to you again you’ll fold.
“Andrei,” You greet, quietly. “How are you?” You still aren’t looking at him, choosing to swirl around the drink in your hand instead.
“I’m good,” He replies, so close you can feel the heat of his body seeping into your skin. You lean into it almost subconsciously until he’s sliding into the booth next to you, pressing the two of you together. “How are you, my kisa?”
“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You retort, finally meeting his eyes to cast him a withering glare.
“No?” Andrei reaches a hand up to brush some stray hairs from your face. So delicate his touch, he trails his hand down your cheek, your neck, and down your waist until landing on your thigh. You don’t stop him, either.
“That’s funny. I could have sworn that you’re mine.”
“I’m not,” You squirm under his touch, unable to push him away. “I haven’t been in months. Wasn’t ever ‘yours’ to begin with. You made sure of that.”
Andrei doesn’t appreciate the call out. The way his face twists is mean and you know whatever he’s going to say will hurt. “Right,” He scoffs, is snide with the way he tones it. “But you’re his?”
He gestures towards Jack, who thankfully is enraptured in a tense game of pool on the other side of the room. You don’t question how he already knows that’s who you’re with.
“I’m not anyone’s, Andrei.”
“Yes you are. You might have thought that because we haven’t seen each other we are just over?” He leans into you, doesn’t let you break eye contact as he gets so close your noses touch. “No. I bet me being so close to you right now has you soaked, and you want to know how I know that?”
Your throat is tight as you swallow. You can’t look away as you move to shake your head, but strange, because it comes out as a nod instead.
“You’re not ‘over me’, malyshka. You’ll never be over me. You love me.”
His grin is feral, his words biting as they cut through you at such a vulnerable level it has you flinching back from his touch immediately.
“Oh, fuck you, Andrei,” You hiss, an angry sheen of tears starting to gloss over your eyes. “Fuck you. I don’t love you anymore—especially not now.”
You move to slip around him but his arm shoots out and stops you in your tracks, leaving you frozen as he stands to tower over you.
“Careful,” He murmurs. “Your boy over there might think something’s wrong. Maybe I should introduce myself, make sure he knows I would never dare hurt you.”
“You don’t have to touch me to hurt me. You did that plenty without having to lift a finger.” You retort. “Now, get out of my way. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“But what if I want to talk to you?” You really hate the height difference between the two of you right now because it takes no effort at all for him to slide a muscular arm around your waist and keep you glued to his side. “Maybe I have missed you.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” You mutter, but he ignores you as he begins to lead you away from the booth you were in before. “My friends will wonder where I am if I’m not at the booth when they get back.”
“Not worried about your boy?” He mocks, noting the way you don’t mention Jack at all. “They won’t have enough time to notice.”
You narrow your eyes at his insinuating words as he stops at the bar, waving down the bartender who comes immediately. “His name is Jack.” You mutter, thinking he can’t hear you. He continues talking, ignoring you, and you’re unable to hear him over the noise so you don’t bother trying to understand what he’s asking for.
Soon enough there’s a drink sliding across the bar counter and Andrei pushes it in front of you. You eye the glass, making note of the fact that the liquid is red. “Vodka cranberry,” He confirms what you’re already thinking.
You flash back to the night you first met and suddenly you want nothing to do with the drink in front of you. “No thanks, I don’t want it.” You say, trying to step away.
You don’t get far, though, because he’s grabbing your wrist and tugging you rather harshly back to him. “Drink it,” He demands, watches your eyes and the way they dart from his face and back to the glass nervously. He sighs, then, like he’s realized something and lets go of your wrist only to land back on your hip. “It’s… Nothing is wrong with it. I didn’t touch it.”
He thinks you’re worried about being drugged? You almost laugh but manage to hold it back, because of course he doesn’t remember that this is the first drink he ever got you.
Your heart beats a little faster as you concede, finally picking up the drink and taking a tiny sip. He waits for your reaction like he’s the one who made it. “It’s good,” You finally say, licking the sweetness from your lips.
Andrei watches you, your eyes, your lips, everything about as time seems to stop and it’s just you and him, like it’s supposed to be.
You haven’t changed all that much, and you can tell he likes that. Your hair is a little shorter, you’re perhaps a little thinner now that you’re not on a college student diet, but you’re still you.
Andrei hasn’t changed either. You’re the same yet so different, and it’s incredibly difficult resisting the temptation to fall back into old habits.
“I’ve missed you,” He admits quietly, and you think it’s sincere this time. You wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t standing so close together.
Your heart thunders in your chest. You might be sweating out of nerves, or maybe it’s just the club. Your hands itch to touch him, and with more alcohol in you thanks to the cranberry you don’t stop Andrei as he succumbs to his urges first and uses one, large hand to cup your cheek.
You shudder as he caresses the skin, his thumb landing on your bottom lip and stroking it lightly. “Andrei,” You breathe, pupils blown wide. “You can’t—we can’t…”
He tilts his head, reminiscent of a dog. “Why not? You are not single?” He has you. He knows you know he does. You aren’t nearly as committed to Jack as much as you’d like yourself to be.
“I can’t do that to him,” You try weakly, already feeling your will bending to the persuasiveness of his touch.
His head lowers, hand remaining on your cheek as he brushes your lips together. You crave it, you realize, and move to fully push your mouths together but he’s pulling back before you get the chance.
“Go to the bathroom.” He says. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Will you?” You ask, the double-meaning clear as you stare at each other, neither willing to break.
Andrei’s face is unreadable. You can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing as his hands land on your hips and he turns you around in the direction of the restrooms. “Go,” He taps your ass, nudging you forward. “I’ll be there.”
You give in this time. You’re aware of the astronomically bad decision you’re making as you cut the line, faking a sick stomach and whispering ‘sorry’ over and over again in your head as the nice ladies let you through.
When you close the door you immediately make your way to the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you, and with mussed hair and smudged lipstick you should be feeling ashamed.
All you feel is anticipation, though. For Andrei’s hands on your body, for his mouth to kiss all the spots he’s missed.
Several minutes go by and the knocks on the bathroom door become more frequent. You think he’s bailed on you - it certainly wouldn’t be the first time - but then you hear his voice outside.
“Da, yes, she’s in there,” A pause. “She’s my girlfriend, she needs me.”
Your breath catches in your throat, turning to face the door as he knocks and can hear his voice more clearly.
Yes, you do need him.
“Kisa,” He says, slightly muffled but you feel the effect he has on you is all the same. “I’m here. Let me in?” He’s almost begging, and you quickly unlock the door as he pushes through.
His smile is mischievous as he closes the door behind him. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He purposefully raises his voice, shows faux concern and plays it up in case anyone is listening outside.
“You’re so dramatic,” You say, pulling him down to you by the collar of his shirt. Now that you’re alone you don’t bother pretending you don’t want him as much as you do. “Now shut up and kiss me.”
“Yes ma’am,” Andrei relents immediately, closing the distance between the two of you. Both his hands come up to the sides of your head to keep you in place, tilting you in whatever way he likes. His lips are just as soft as you remember, and your bodies move together like they were never apart.
He’s demanding as he begins pushing you back, crowding you against the tiny bathroom wall. His words from outside come back to you suddenly, and you break the kiss to catch a breath as his lips begin a trail across your cheeks. “Girlfriend?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “I had to get them to let me through somehow.” It’s not what you want to hear but you lose the urge to fight him on it as he reaches your neck and begins sucking little hickeys onto the sensitive skin. Your head falls back with a sigh, uncaring of your hair catching whatever germs might lie on the wall.
You let Andrei do what he wants to your neck for a few moments, then when the urge to taste his lips comes again you grab the back of his hair and pull him up to you. He goes willingly, and you moan into his mouth as he continues to push back against you so hard you can feel his dick through his jeans.
He pulls back much too soon for your taste, and you try to follow but suddenly one of the hands holding your head comes down to wrap around your throat, restricting your breath as he pushes you back. You go to speak, but his other hand is leaving your face to unbutton his jeans one-handed.
You watch, eyes heavy-lidded. “‘Drei?” The weight on your neck is comfortable, so you don’t bother moving as he shoves the rest of his jeans along with his boxers down his thick thighs.
“You want to talk to other guys?” He starts with a bite. “Then you can remember the taste of my cock in your mouth while you do it.”
Your blood pressure skyrockets as the hand on your throat leaves to pull your hair back out of your face, grasps it like a rope, and pushes you down to your knees.
You’re at eye-level with his cock as it bobs in front of you, angry and swollen with beads of pre-cum leaking from the tip. He stares down at you expectantly, has to hold back a groan at your wide-eyed gaze looking so innocent.
As your lips wrap around his tip he’s reminded of the fact that no, you are not innocent. He made you that way. Fucked you like no man ever could. Ruined you for everyone but him. His feelings for you are complicated, but he does understand one thing…
Andrei doesn’t want you, not really. But he hates to think about you with somebody else.
Your tongue is masterful in its work as it swirls around his head, and once you get comfortable you begin going down. His head falls back and this time he doesn’t hold back his noises as your warm, wet mouth envelopes him.
“Missed this mouth,” He grunts as you suck. “Like it much better when you can’t speak.”
It’s insulting and degrading, yet it doesn’t fail to turn you on as you squirm and rub your thighs together in hopes it’ll give you the friction you need.
His hand in your hair soon starts pulling, sliding your mouth forward and back in increasing motions as he gets closer. He’s unabashedly groaning now, and you can see his abs clench when you suck a certain way.
Suddenly, you have the urge to have him fall apart before you. Maybe it’s revenge, wanting to see him lose control for you like you’ve done for him so many times; you tilt your head, using your tongue to stroke the sensitive underside of his cock and that has him jerking into you.
“Fuck,” He hisses. “Good girl. Just like that.” The praise goes directly to your clit, and you whimper as it throbs with no relief.
Despite being apart for almost a year, you still know what every twitch of his body means. You know he’s close because the hand in your hair is gripping you tighter, you can feel the steadily increasing tempo of his heartbeat through his pulsing cock, and his thighs are ever so slightly trembling underneath your hands.
You want him to come in your mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more; your efforts increase and you dig your nails into his skin to hear him hiss and as his thrusts pick up he starts hitting the back of your throat.
Internally thanking your lacking gag reflex, you don’t flinch as he picks up speed, now blatantly using your mouth for his own pleasure with little regard for your comfort. “Shit, baby,” He blurts, desperate. “I’m gonna cum.” You hum in response, the vibrations of the sound finally throwing him over the edge.
Andrei throws his head back for a final time, one long groan emulating from his unfairly sculpted chest as his cum hits the back of your throat. You’ve always loved the taste of him and this time is no different as you suck him deeper, not wanting to waste a drop.
He takes a few moments to collect himself and in that timeframe your ears slowly stop ringing and you come back to reality, finding that your knees ache from being pressed into the floor and there are loud voices coming from outside the bathroom door.
As you move to stand, he too seems to remember where you’re at and uses both arms to pull you the rest of the way until you’re back to standing. You swipe your hair out of your face as his thumb comes to your lip, wiping away a stray drop of his release.
Despite the post-orgasmic clarity, he looks at you with softness and something else swimming in his dark eyes. “You’re still good at that,” He states. “Been sucking anyone else off?” His words are quiet but every bit threatening as you note the possessiveness in his tone.
“No,” You gasp as his thumb pushes its way into your mouth. “Just you. Only you,”
“That’s right,” He says. “Just me. Only me.” Then he’s spinning you around, fingers remaining pressed into your mouth while the other trails up your spine until he’s gripping the back of your neck. “Hear them outside?” He asks.
The ‘them’ he’s referring to, you realize, are the voices outside the bathroom. They’re much louder now, a few knocks mixed in, and you wonder with slight panic how a manager hasn’t come to unlock the door yet.
“They sound very angry, don’t they?” That same hand on the back of your neck strokes your skin, slowly working its way down to your waistband. “So we better make it quick. Hands on the wall, kisa,”
You know the moment he pulls down your pants he’ll find you to be unabashedly soaking. Despite claiming to be in a hurry, he takes his time working open the button of your jeans, grazing the skin above your panties before ever so slowly sliding them down your legs.
“Andrei,” You hiss, impatient. “Hurry up!” As the hand in your mouth retreats, you realize you’re both needy and nervous, an overwhelming combination.
He only laughs. “Someone is needy,” He mocks, holding your hips in place when you try wiggling against him. “Patience.” Leaning into your ear he murmurs this, staying this way as he fully slides your jeans past your knees.
Andrei sneaks his hand in between your thighs, something resembling a growl rumbling from his chest when his fingers find your dripping folds, feeling how you throb for him. “Missed this pussy even more,” He breathes, lubricating his fingers with your slick before slowly circling your clit. Your arms shake from where they hold you up and it’s a battle to keep yourself from collapsing.
“You are just made for me, aren’t you?”
You’re so wet you practically suck him in as he guides his dick to your entrance, and he wastes no preamble as he pushes in. If he thought your mouth was heaven after so much time apart, the feeling of your pussy squeezing him in so deep doesn’t even compare. His hands are digging into your hips as he ruts into you fully with one thrust, panting as your warmth contracts around him.
“Still so fucking tight,” He marvels like he can’t believe it, like it’s a dream you feel even better than when he replays the memories of you on repeat. “You been waiting for me?” He’s not expecting a response as his rhythm picks up, finding a familiar pace for the both of you that has him swearing under his breath and you struggling not to shout your pleasure to the rooftops.
“God,” You cry out when the head of his cock directly hits your g-spot, your hips jerking up so hard you would have fallen if it weren’t for Andrei holding you up. “Fuck, Andrei, fuck, I’m gonna—”
Andrei laughs, a sound that would have been more menacing if he also wasn’t gasping for air. “Already?” He mocks. “I barely touched you, baby,”
You don’t have to touch me, it’s on the tip of your tongue waiting to be blurted out. You don’t have to touch me for me to be on my knees for you. The words are ready, but instead all that comes out is a moan and maybe that’s for the best because he probably wouldn’t respond as well as he does in your dreams.
He’s unaware of your internal dilemma as he leans over you, pressing his clothed chest to your back. “Gotta be fast,” He reminds you, as if you’d forgotten. “You ready?”
“No, I—I can’t,” Because you don’t want this to be over. You don’t want to cum because he’ll follow you right after and then when clarity hits he’ll leave you again and you’ll be back to square one.
“Yes, you can” He croons. “I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to you, I’m right here.” You want to sob as one of his hands leaves your hip and finds the junction of your bodies, gentle fingers prodding your pussy spread-wide around him until he finds your clit and rubs.
Your body is trembling and you can’t tell if you’re trying to move towards him or away, but it doesn’t matter anyways because he has you trapped between the wall and his body and the unrelenting pace of his hips slamming into you.
You have a sudden urge to look him in the eyes before you come undone by his cock and his fingers, so you crane your head to the side and watch him watch you. His hair is damp from sweat at the corners of his hairline, his lips slightly open as he pants and you think you spot him lick his lips when he catches you staring. You go to say something but he swoops down, catching your mouth with his own and promptly shuts you up.
Andrei doesn’t relent in his motions despite the uncomfortable position, not letting you break from his lips by removing his hand at your hip and gripping your face to keep you right here. He owns you, at this point, mind, body, and soul as your lungs beg for breath while your clit throbs beneath his fingers and oh, oh, there it is and you’re gone—
You feel the rough pads of his fingers bullying your clit but you don’t really focus on it until now, how the calloused ridges carelessly sweep over you with no semblance of relief and only when you body abruptly freezes does he part from you, but only slightly, leaving a hair’s width of space between your lips. “Beautiful,” He says, under his breath so quietly you don’t hear him as your bones catch fire and your brain short-circuits.
Heat sears you from the inside-out and you do nothing but endure as Andrei rocks you through it. There’s tears of ecstasy streaming down your face, you’re sure of it now, and you think he’s wiping them from your cheeks but you can’t open your eyes enough to check.
It takes a few minutes, but once your heart stops racing you can hear your favorite voice swearing behind you and only then do you comprehend him still moving inside you, but before you can whine at the sensitivity he’s stilling with a long, drawn-out groan.
You don’t dare speak first, nor are you the first to move. The air around you is stagnant with tension as you rest your head on your arms, breathing deeply to catch your breath. What does this mean? You’re spiraling already and it’s only been minutes since your desperate fuck in this bathroom.
Eventually, Andrei moves first. He slides his softened dick from you with a hiss and you feel his cum trickling out without him there to keep it plugged in. Wrinkling your nose at the feeling of having to walk around with wet inner thighs now, you slowly stand up as his hands fall from your body. You slide your panties and jeans back up the rest of your legs, ignoring the uncomfortable sensitivity of being covered once again.
Neither of you speaks a word. You want to cry suddenly, and this time not from pleasure. “What did we just do?” You manage to choke out, your voice so hoarse you have to clear it. He’s clearly planning on just leaving without a word but you’re not going to let him.
You stare at him expectantly. He’s turned around so all you have in your view is his slide profile, clearly struggling with what to say as his jaw clenches tightly.
“Nothing,” He finally says, and he might as well just fucking stab you in the back. “We did nothing. You’re going to go back out there and pretend nothing happened because it didn’t.”
Oh, he makes you so angry. You can’t believe you’d forgotten that. “You’re serious?” You know he is but you don’t want to believe it.
Andrei meets your glassy eyes and you wish you could read him like he so easily can read you. He looks as conflicted as the day you walked out of his house for the last time, like he has so many words to say but refuses to let them fall from his lips. Just like then, you know this rendezvous means more to him than just a meaningless hookup.
If only he’d admit it…
He exhales a shaky breath as another loud knock disturbs you. “We need to go.” He dodges your question just like he dodges every issue in his life, especially in regards to you. “Come on, kisa.”
“You can’t just call me that, after—after this,” You hiss as he grabs your arm and pulls you towards the door. You panic on the inside as he unlocks it because once you leave this dirty sanctuary you know your problems will only get worse.
Strange, how Andrei manages to make everything worse despite making you feel so good.
As if your emotions don’t matter to him (they really don’t), he flashes you a grin as he drags you behind him, past the angry horde of people who, now that you think about it, definitely know you were fucking. “I know you like it.” Spoken so simply, so plain, you hate that he’s right.
You’ll always like it. Always love him. For as long as you’re hung up over him it will always come back to bite you in the ass and he knows this too.
It’s why, without shame, his arm is curled possessively around your waist as he leads you through the crowd of people. Your friends, Jack, don’t even cross your mind as he does so.
“Go find your friends,” He soon leans down to whisper in your ear. “Then find Jack. Tell him you felt sick and had to use the bathroom.”
“What if I don’t want to?” You snap, purposefully antagonizing him.
Andrei merely raises a brow at you. “You can always stay with me, with my cum dripping down your legs, and explain to everyone how you missed me so much you couldn’t stay away.”
You want to hit him. You almost do, but he continues before you actually go through with it.
“I wonder what Jack would say?” Of course he was listening to you earlier. He ignored you then, of course, but he listened.
And yeah, okay, you get it. Not a good idea to let everyone you know see you with him. He doesn’t want his friends to see him with you, either.
“Trying to get rid of me?” You ask, intending to sound sarcastic but it comes off as more insecure than you wanted it to.
You know he is, but you can’t help but ask for confirmation. Maybe it would help you move on to hear how little he actually cares for you.
“I don’t think I could get rid of you if I tried,” He replies. You can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “You’ll never get rid of me though.”
He’s right, again. You hate so much that he is because you both know you’ll be crawling back the moment he calls.
You want to cry again as his arm leaves your waist, the absence of his heat leaving you shivering.
Andrei looks at you for a long time, just appraising. He tilts his head like he doesn’t know what to think, but then he spots something behind you and starts backing up.
“I will see you again someday, kisa.” He winks at you, and then he’s gone.
Someone behind you taps your shoulder while speaking into your ear, a voice you recognize as one of the girls you came with. You should probably focus, banish Andrei from your mind, but you don’t.
You strain your neck, watching for him through the crowd. He’s back at the bar with his friends, his teammates you once knew.
He’s laughing at something one of them said. Like he wasn’t just with you, fucking you against the bathroom walls.
“Are you okay?” Your friend behind you asks, the one thing from her you do catch.
“Yeah,” You say, swallowing despite the dryness in your throat. Andrei is talking to more people now, girls that have approached him, you notice. “I’m fine.”
He looks gorgeous under the lights. You catch his brilliant smile, the glimmer of his eyes, and those lips you can never get enough of. You soon lose sight of him amidst the throng of people, but his fleeting allure forever lingers...
Like a steadfast reminder, a haunting echo of what can never be.
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A/N: Well, that was fun. I hurt my own feelings writing this but it was worth it. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please remember to reblog & comment!!
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blackopals-world · 3 days
Text
Unhappy Reunions
Celestial!Yuu finds what was lost
Angst
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Humans are cruel and so are gods.
I was once the silver god who embodied love, marriage, and fertility. I was supposed to be the mother of gods the bringer of a generation of godlings.
I believed in my role fully and understood that it was for the good of the world. So I created. I made gods from stardust and clouds. So many wonderful creations. Fully formed and whole on their creation they took to the heavens and created more life. And I was happy.
I was creator, not mother to them. I was respected and revered.
Another god as ancient and powerful as I set his eyes on me. If I became his bound in vow I would be promised more power than I imagined. That might have worked on a lesser goddess but I was too powerful for that to work. But gods have tricks.
Lured in by my reflection on the ocean he trapped me in a black silk blanket. The moon disappeared from the sky until I agreed to be his.
I made the most of it but he demanded a child of me. But I was a god of love, I couldn't make a child without it. I had no love for him. Especially when he had children with mortals and goddess alike. I was resentful. Born to be the goddess of motherhood but not allowed to be mother to none. Dispite it all I converted my title to God of heroes. I looked after his demigod children, the blameless.
There were jealous goddess who wanted my place and they turned their children's blade against me. But I still wept when those children died to serve the purposes of more selfish gods, when my husband didn't even shed a tear for his fallen children.
My anger and loneliness bore fruit. Perhaps in spite my womb fashioned new life. From it, my first and only true child was born from me. A child of smoke and ink with a face shrouded in hair. This thing I had birthed from my negative emotions was still beautiful but the nurse maid reached in horror at my child. I demanded that she say the child was dead and hid it away in my most isolated corner of my heavens.
But he found them. He scorned me for birthing such a hideous creature. He took them from me.
He said I would have to pay for my actions and if I had done as he said this would never have happened.
There are many stories of gods doing horrible things to children, even their own. There are just as many with mortals.
But I can not explain the fracturing of my soul the moment he tossed my child to the wild beasts of the land after cutting them to pieces.
I still have not recovered from that day.
My nameless child was blameless.
I abandoned the heavens and have never returned. I left him and abandoned my titles of marriage goddess and mother goddess. I had neither now. I abandoned my very nature. It was no different than carving up my very being but I had already felt that pain.
How pathetic is it for a God to wander the earth calling for a child that no longer lives? Searching endlessly for what can't be found.
I'm not proud of what I did after. I wanted a child to fill the void in my heart. Silver became that for me. I wanted to be a mother again at any cost. I fought Lilia for him. He was mine by right.
I didn't intend to fall in love with Lilia. Perhaps I had always loved him at least a little. A strange thing for mortals to grasp that a God can love someone they have never really met. But it's true all the same. Still, there was a time I contemplated making a demigod of my own.
But I started to heal with him. I recovered that parts of me could be salvaged. The pain can never disappear with a memory that was infinite. Still I moved on.
Still, life found another way to curse me.
My child had returned. I found them. No. They found me.
My beautiful child of smoke and shadows. Neither God or mortal. Not demigod or monster. They stood shrouded in darkness before me but they did not know me. They were drawn to my side but knew nothing of their birth.
Perhaps it was for the best. I had failed them already, I should not be remembered.
Child was quiet, just how I remembered them. They spoke like the rain in the night and walked like fog.
I hope they know I love them. I hope they would forgive me. I wished I had been by their side. The pain they must have suffered must have been unimaginable.
My poor baby.
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melodymunson · 3 days
Text
Eddie Munson x fem!goth cheerleader reader part 2 of 2
7.9K words.
This chapter involves the upside-down. Slight angst with a happy ending. You and Eddie have some smutty fun at a Corroded Coffin show backstage and after the prom.
Warnings: nsfw. Vaginal fingering, 69, blowjob, eating pussy, and p in v sex.
read part 1 here
ao3 link for series can be found here
The week passed relatively quickly, with phone calls to Eddie every night and three outdoor lunches together that week. You were even passing notes in class to each other. Once the weekend arrived, you got all dressed up in your best combat boots, a black spandex skirt with fishnets underneath, a Corroded Coffin tee shirt he had gifted you, and spiked black jewelry including chokers, earrings, and bracelets to complete your outfit and the total look. After getting ready and applying black eyeshadow and lipstick, you took one final look in the mirror, grabbed your wallet and small clutch purse, then made your way to your car and drove to the hideout. When you arrived, you noticed some familiar faces including Robin, Steve, and some friends of Eddies were there as well, even though you weren't sure of their names just yet.
The opening band was just finishing up and Corroded Coffin would be on next. It was so exciting to be there. You bought your favorite soda from the bar and went to get in front of the stage to wait for Eddie and his band to start their set. Steve and Robin both nodded and waved at you when they noticed you were there, too, and smiled. You waved back. They felt more comfortable near the sound booth and you were glad to be there front row and center. A decent crowd had already gathered. Soon the lights went down and you, as well as everyone else in the club, clapped as Corroded Coffin took the stage.
The first song was a Metallica cover of Master of Puppets followed by some other covers like the Judas Priest song Painkiller and WASP's Animal. There were some original songs after that. You clapped and screamed louder than practically anyone else and Eddie looked at you, making eye contact with every song. It was so nice to have the chance to live in the moment like this and experience this incredible show. Eddie had so much stage energy and he was such a confident and talented frontman. Song after song you got even more into the show by head-banging and throwing up the devil horns. He thought you looked stunning and knew he didn't want anyone else to have you but him. His guitar solos were epic and the drum solos, and you were having the time of your life. When the show was over, he handed you his guitar pick and invited you backstage.
Once in the backroom, he locked the door for some privacy and gave you a water bottle. It was so refreshing and what you needed. You were both sweaty, but he smelled faintly of cologne. It wasn't too strong, but it was nice. Being backstage was a whole new experience and the walls were covered with posters of various bands from all genres, some record plaques, and some very tasteful art pieces. The couch you were sitting on together was leather and felt so comfortable.
"I loved the show. You were incredible," you enthused, which put a big smile on his face.
"Thanks. You looked so stunning. I loved seeing you front row. It means a lot to me."
"Being backstage is so great but of course I came. I wouldn't miss it for anything else in the world."
He leaned forward, meeting your lips in a kiss, not even minding that just a little of your black lipstick got on his lips. You got onto his lap kissing him even harder and exploring his body with your hands as you touched his soft curly brown locks. He caressed your lower back and hip, then moved his fingers down towards your fishnets. As his hands roamed underneath your skirt, it caused you to moan into his mouth.
"Let me know if I'm going too fast or if anything makes you uncomfortable."
"Touch me more Eddie. Down there. I'm so wet."
"You're so fuckin hot. You know that, right? I've been wanting this for a while now, but I've been holding back."
"Then promise me you won't hold back any longer."
Your lips crashed against his again, tasting him fully and he gasped into your mouth as you ripped your fishnets and moved his hand towards your panties, pulling them down so he could move his fingers inside. He did just that feeling, the heat coming from your naked core.
"Mmm, you feel so good. I love touching you."
"I love touching you too, Ed's," you mumbled against his lips as you moved against his fingers, he moved them inside of you and held onto his hair, tugging slightly, which elicited a very audible whimper from him. The way he touched you and looked at you made your heart beat even faster. As he gazed into your eyes, you felt closer than ever to him. It was almost as if you were one.
As his fingers worked expertly on your clit, your eyes were trained on his, Eddie's gaze not leaving yours as he added another finger getting you even wetter. The feeling of his big rings inside of you was so fuckin good. Touching you made him feel so alive, and he was enjoying every single second with you. You were the girl of his dreams, and he wanted this more than anything else in the world.
He couldn't stop thinking about you since the camping trip and he was feeling such a rush with you at that moment the high he got from pleasing you and being with you was even better than the feelings of euphoria he got once he took the stage with his band. No other woman had come anywhere, even near this close to making him feel like he did when he was with you. No one else compared to you and he wanted to please you at whatever cost.
As his fingers hit your g-spot, you felt like you wouldn't last much longer but wanted to relish this moment with him and make this last.
"Ever since that night and I heard your pretty moans, I haven't been able to get you off my mind," he admitted as he finger-fucked you with perfect precision.
"I heard you that night, too. It was s-so," you uttered, whimpering against his ear as his fingers continued to fuck you in that perfect spot, going even quicker now as he realized how flustered you were. "Hot and sexy," you finished telling him, as his fingers didn't waver with his speed or rhythm. Your moans grew more frequent and even louder as your orgasm was closely approaching.
"Oh yeah? So were you."
He crashed his lips against yours now as he got you even closer to reaching your high, desperately wanting to taste you on his lips and savor it. With several more thrusts, you cried out, "Eddie, I'm gonna c-c-cum."
"Cum all over my fingers. I want to see your face as you do. Look at me," he urged in a commanding tone as he lifted your chin so you were looking him directly in the face.
As you stared deeply into his eyes and his fingers worked you through your high, you made a mess of his fingers and dug your nails into his shoulders, wanting to leave a mark. He guided you through your release and made you feel as if you were the only girl in the world.
"Fuck! Fuck Eddie!" You groaned loudly as you rode out your high, his fingers still working their magic as you were coming down from your release and intense feelings of euphoria. As you finally caught your breath again, he tasted his fingers, loving your taste.
"So fuckin good."
You kissed him again, wanting to taste yourself, and did so greedily. Many more kisses followed this and resting against his shoulder as you listened to his heartbeat. What they said about guitar players having the best hands was true and he gave you the most intense orgasm of your life. With him, you felt invincible, and he was amazing in every way.
A little later, he walked you to your car and paused for a moment, lingering there, before he said his goodbyes.
"Will you be my girlfriend?"
"Yes, of course." I want to so much."
You gave him another kiss and a hug, then parted ways, promising to call him soon. The town outcast was finally happy- really and truly. He felt like he was on top of the world because he had you. Everything about you made him happy. Dating him would probably tarnish your reputation, but you could not care less, and going public as a couple was something you wanted when the time was right.
You were on a high all weekend from the concert and it was just so amazing to finally see your man play live and be there to experience what was pretty much the best concert of your life so far. With Eddie, you felt invincible and nothing could stop you from smiling or feeling like you were on top of the world. When Eddie invited you to play Dungeons and Dragons with him and his friends you were so happy and gratefully accepted his offer. Meeting Dustin, Garrett, and Eddie's other friends went well, and the game was even more fun than you expected it to be. The next few weeks passed by so quickly but it was nice to spend so much time with him. At school, you would hold hands with him walking down the hall in between classes. Some people would stare but you ignored them all. As far as you were concerned once you graduated you would never see any of them again. People could be so cruel. The only thing that kept you on the cheerleading squad was being able to have a full-time scholarship to the university of your choosing. You had science and math together and even helped tutor him when he needed it. This time he was determined to finally pass and graduate. Most nights you would be on the phone with him talking about anything and everything and listening to music together.
The Friday before spring break you had to cheer at the big homecoming game and Eddie and his friends played DND. You wanted so badly to join them but you couldn't ditch a game. That weekend you had a road trip planned with your cousin and best friend which started early on Saturday. Once the game was over and you left the school's campus you saw him again- one last time before your trip but parted ways promising him you would get home safe. Little did you know that after that night things would change. You finished packing when you got home and waited for him to call which he promised he would around 11. Well, 11 came and went with still no call from him. It was weird. Maybe he had gotten stoned and passed out or got caught up with a customer. Midnight passed and you called him with no answer. Not being able to have a good night phone call with him hurt a little but honestly, it was probably nothing you tried to convince yourself. There was still a nagging feeling of dread that washed over you. Despite trying to tell yourself it was nothing, you decided to go to bed but in the morning you would stop by his place before your trip to say goodbye to him. Morning came eventually and even though you hadn't slept that well you got up looking forward to seeing him. Before you picked up your best friend, you drove over to his place, and to your horror, you saw his trailer was surrounded by caution tape and police were investigating the scene of a crime. Getting out of your car in a hurry you walked up to Eddie's uncle and asked him what happened. Eddie was missing and a person of interest in the death of Chrissy Cunningham. Your mouth opened in shock and you did your best to collect yourself and remain composed as you walked away even though your legs felt like jelly. When you made it to the safety of your car you nearly had a panic attack wondering what had gone down the night before. He hadn't mentioned a drug deal with Chrissy and now he was missing and she was dead. Left alone completely baffled and shocked you wondered what to do next. Soon you pealed out of there thinking of where Eddie could be but decided to go stop by Dustin's place to talk to him first as you collected your thoughts and tried your best to not completely freak out. Your trip was going to have to be postponed.
That afternoon you went over to Dustin's and he opened the door almost immediately with a look of concern on his face.
"Do you have any idea where Eddie is?" You asked your eyes completely red by now from the crying you did earlier.
Dustin looked very worried and was feeling a mixture of regret and shock at the events that had just unfolded on the news.
"It was Eddie they were talking about on the news. They didn't mention his name but it was him. They found Chrissy's body."
"I know I stopped by his place earlier and Wayne told me. Where would he be though?"
"He mentioned a guy named Reefer Rick before. I don't know where he lives though."
"Well, let's go find out."
You gestured for him to follow you to your car and drove to Family Video and soon were greeted by Robin and Steve.
"Hey, are you okay? Seriously you are shaking," Robin said as she pulled you in for a hug. You didn't know her very well yet but her embrace was comforting.
"I'll be okay once we find Eddie. Look for Rick's in your database of video rentals. He was a regular client of his."
"Of course, we can find that out for you," Steve added with a weak smile.
Robin and Steve wasted no time looking up Rick in the store's database inventory. There were multiple guys named Rick of course but once you found the list of stoner rentals you knew you had found the right guy. Steve wrote down the address and everyone made their way out the door and locked up the store.
"I hope he's here. I need to see him. We need to find out what the hell happened," you told Dustin as you clenched the steering wheel with a tight grip making your knuckles turn white.
"He didn't do this. On the news, they mentioned the body was mangled and it wasn't possible an actual person did this."
"I don't think he murdered her either. I haven't known him that long but he wouldn't do what they were describing. It has to be supernatural."
Soon you made it to Rick's and rang the bell. After some knocking and more rings, no one answered and you all made your way to the small shed in the back. Steve grabbed a paddle and started to poke the tarps surrounding the boats. Everyone called out Eddie's name and Eddie burst out of the tarp against the far wall and cornered Steve who was invading his personal space.
"I don't want to have a problem with you Harrison."
"Eddie! No! It's me, Dustin, your friend. This is Robin from the band and Steve who is a good guy. Eddie, don't do this," Dustin pleaded with him. Eddie loosened his grip on Steve once he noticed you were there with tears practically forming in your eyes. He made his way towards you and embraced you in a big hug. You held him trying your best to hold back your tears of relief.
"I didn't do it. It was Vecna. It was his curse. We were just making a quick deal I swear. I went to go looking for something stronger like she wanted. When I saw her body I ran. It's because I always run. I never face my problems and I just end up ignoring them until they get worse."
You tried your best to comfort him by running your fingers through his curly locks of hair and hushing him wanting to calm him down because he was getting so worked up. He couldn't stay here forever but for now, that's what needed to be done. It wasn't safe for him anywhere else at the moment and you planned on visiting him when you could.
"Your uncle misses you, Eddie. I missed you. I need you. We will figure this out babe I promise," you told him sincerely as you gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. He mustered the best smile he possibly could as you tried your best to comfort him and offer him some sort of relief.
"I know. I'm sorry I didn't contact you and that I just ran off and hid. That's what I do best. Jason can't find me or Sam or any of the others."
"They won't. We will do our best to make sure that doesn't happen. We have snacks and food for you. I just don't think it's safe right now for you to leave or wander off," you told him as he nodded his head in understanding.
"We will come back when we need to bring you food and company of course and we will communicate through these walkie-talkies," Dustin told him as he handed him the bag of food as well as one of the walkies.
He took it gratefully from Dustin and sat down. He felt defeated and knew that when he was caught and knew he probably would be soon. Having you around made this hiding out at least a bit bearable. The gang hung around for some time longer exchanging small talk and Dustin hugged Eddie before parting ways. You decided to stay for a while though.
"Look Eddie I know that you are upset and things are so fucked up right now. I'm here for you I just wanted you to know."
"Thanks, baby. I need you. I am glad you are on my side at least."
You held each other and talked for a while with some moments of silence. It felt so right to be there in his arms. You drifted off and eventually, it was morning again.
"I should go. I don't want to go but I need to," you told him forlornly.
"It's fine. I'm glad you came at all. I don't want to put you in any danger trust me it's the last thing I want."
You kissed and hugged him goodbye then walked back home.
Days passed and you visited Eddie every chance you got. The gang went to visit Henry Creel's former home and you stayed with Eddie. Jason and his minions including much to your dismay your ex, Sam, showed up looking for him at Rick's. Once they found his hiding spot after some time, Eddie made you promise to stay hidden in the boat house. As he lured them away, he got in a boat and rowed out as far as he could before they followed his trail. You watched from the windows seeing Eddie being chased after by Patrick and Jason. They swam quickly after him but things went wrong. Patrick was levitating and to your horror, he became mangled and practically ripped apart. It had to be the curse of Vecna. Chrissy was found by Eddie in a very similar manner. It was appalling to see and you were horrified. Next thing you knew Eddie was holding you in his arms. You comforted each other and went to Skull Rock to spend the night. Eventually, the others joined you both there.
After some talking, everyone decided that it was finally time to go to the other side. Even though Max, Lucas, and Dustin tagged along, you left them behind at the docks as you got onto the boat with Eddie, Nancy, Steve, and Robin. It was nightfall and once you had gotten to the middle of the lake, Steve went in first then Robin and Nancy. Finally, you and Eddie agreed to go together and once you reached the other side even more darkness enveloped all of you. No longer were the stars or moon in the sky it was instead replaced by a creepy and sinister lair. The gang felt more despair with each passing minute. The deeper you walked into the upside-down forest, the more tendrils of vines you found. Carefully avoiding them with each step, you and the rest safely crossed the precipice that led to the Demobats. Eddie vowed to keep you safe no matter what. With your oars in tow, you slowly approached the center of the Demobat's lair and waited as you listened to the thunder rumbling in the distance and the lightning that struck the area. The red flashing lights mixed with the thunder and screeching of the oncoming monsters, were enough to make you want to run but you stood your ground firmly. The bats grew closer and even closer but Steve and Eddie had your back. They took them down with all they had standing their ground and hitting them with all of their might. More and more came however and much to your dismay you felt the impending sense of doom as they were taken only to be replaced by even bigger ones. Both Eddie and especially Steve suffered bruising and damage in the process but they were defeated- for now.
Once you rode the bikes through the upside down to the point of almost escaping this other world and into Eddie's trailer, you heard Dustin speaking. He couldn't hear any of you at first. Eddie suggested SOS communication and it worked. Lucas and Max brought Eddie's mattress over the portal entrance and you climbed up right after Robin followed by Eddie. Nancy attempted to cross next but she was overtaken by Vecna. Steve yelled at her to wake up but it was of no use for a while until finally she awoke again and came out of her trance. When everyone was safe on the other side, at last, you asked Nancy what happened. She went into the story of Henry Creel and how she saw his early life up until he became Vacna when he was cast out from Hawkins Lab after a deadly massacre of its young patients. All the elements of her story were horror-filled and you couldn't imagine being stuck like her inside the upside and having your mind controlled by the evilest villain of them all.
The battle with Vecna
Being back inside upside down was frightening, to say the least, because if you lost then it would all be over, and coming to terms with uncertain death was difficult to grasp. Even though Eddie vowed to protect you at all costs you feared something would go wrong. After parting ways with Max, Lucas, Steve, Nancy, and Robin, you made your journey with Dustin and Eddie to the version of his place inside upside down. His guitar was there intact and he got it ready to play the most metal song in the history of the world live. He dedicated the song to Chrissy and started right away with the sickest guitar riffs and the best solo ever. Soon the bats were summoned and you heard them from afar. With your weapons and shields intact you led the bats straight toward the area and quickly made it away from the demo bats for temporary relief and shelter. Dustin went back over to the other side first followed by you. Much to your dismay, Eddie stayed behind and despite Dustin's cries and your begging for him to stay, he left to fight off the bats alone. Right away you and Dustin grabbed a chair to make it back over the threshold to rescue Eddie. The bats came for Eddie at full force only minutes later and as you and Dustin made your way back to Eddie, the demo bats came at him in full force. As he shielded them off the best he could with his spear, you lit a torch and used it to kill off as many as you could as Dustin used his dagger to spear them. They were after Eddie and he put up the best fight he could as they attacked him. With every swing, he fought back harder and as all three of you used your shields, they began to drop dead one at a time. No one would leave that night without injury and even though he suffered the most of all with his cuts, bruises, abrasions, and injuries, you were hurt and in pain. Despite getting hurt himself, Dustin remained strong and helped you fight off the rest of them as Eddie collapsed. Meanwhile, Nancy and Steve faced Vecna with Robin lighting the torch and throwing it at him. Eleven's powers and Max's distracting Vecna combined with the burning fiery flame, and the monster crumbled into ashes and the remaining demo bats all collapsed dead. Eddie's badly injured body lay there and tears rolled down your cheeks as well as Dustin's as you comforted him. He barely had a pulse but he was holding on as you told him you were there for him and nursed the bad wounds on his arms and leg with a tourniquet made from the sleeves of your shirt. An earthquake began and you held on tight to him as Dustin stayed close to you both. The vibrations and ground moving were strong but all of you persevered. Even though he was barely conscious he was able to get up with the help of you and Dustin. It was decided that it would be best to wait a while before trying to get Eddie back to the other side. Once inside his trailer, you lay there for a while trying to use whatever you could find in the trailer to revive him and nurse his wounds as well as your own and Dustin's. Some of Eddie's wounds required cauterization and you knew basic first aid and medical care so you administered the treatment. Though in some pain, he was able to bite down hard on leather and make it through the pain. Sometime later Dustin crossed the threshold and Eddie was brought over next you helped him up and he landed safely on the other side. He was still too weak to speak but you could tell he was grateful for you and Dustin helping to save his life. Eventually, you all arrived back at the safety of Hawkins. Soon you heard on the news Jason and Sam after their encounter with Lucas over Max levitating, perished in the earthquake. Relief flooded over you knowing they were gone.
-Aftermath
The hospital wasn't a safe place for Eddie and it was tragic to see him so hurt by the Demobats. He had to keep a low profile until he was no longer on the FBI's most wanted list. Vecna seemed to be defeated. You had to get him to safety so once Steve and Dustin brought him back from Vecna's lair, you called your cousin who was majoring in nursing and she promised to help out. Soon Eddie was taken to her place and had a grueling but successful recovery. Max got better too and regained her sight and vision. When you first found Eddie he was bloody, bruised, and very sore. A few months later he was doing so much better. Sometime later thanks to the testimonies from Steve, Dustin, Max, and Uncle Wayne they had given to the FBI and courts, he was not the FBI's most wanted any longer and they weren't seeking arrest at the moment. They had determined there wasn't enough proof for now but he was still a person of interest. There were also no more murders in Hawkins at least not ones gruesome or anything like what had happened to Chrissy and the others. You missed Chrissy every day and she was a friend of yours. You believed in Eddie from the start and never doubted him. Life without her was very different but with Eddie and your friends, you knew you'd make it through despite all odds.
You and Eddie had the perfect idea for how to dress for the prom with your friends a night before the real school prom. Since Eddie couldn't show up at the school and go with everything he had been going through, you decided it would be best along with your friends that you could have your prom at Steve's place. The party was to be exclusive and have Eddie's Hellfire club friends, Nancy, Robin, and Robin's date and crush Vickie, and Steve. Your relationship was heavy metal so why not represent that with your outfits? The night of prom you dressed up in a Guns N Roses tee that had gemstones on it but it was a flared tank top paired with your best pair of black platform boots, black tights, and a leather skirt. Eddie picked you up in his van and took you to Steve's place. His parents were never home so it was the best place to have it. When you saw him at your door, he was wearing an Ozzy Osbourne shirt and a nice pair of black pants. Of course, he told you how beautiful you looked as he put your corsage on your wrist. The black rose corsage he got you matched your outfit. As usual, he thought you looked stunning. No other girl compared to you and in his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman ever.
Everyone was having a great time and it was so friendly and welcoming. The real prom was something that didn't matter to you anymore because anywhere Eddie wasn't accepted you didn't want to be there. It would suck enough to not have him at graduation with you but it was going to be an amazing night. There were great snacks, plenty to drink, and even celebratory champagne. Defeating Vecna and Eddie's recovery took so much out of everyone and celebrating was much needed. Plenty of heavy metal was played and you stayed by Eddie's side all night with some dancing and kissing. You decided to leave early and Eddie was in agreement with you as you both said goodbye to your friends then headed out to his van and blared some Dio as you rode back to your place. You had the best night ahead planned for you and Eddie.
Post-prom
It had been a long journey with Eddie and now that you were alone with him at your house and in your bedroom, you had rose petals scattered all over your room and petals forming a big heart on your bed. It was so romantic to be there with him. You lit candles to set the mood and put in a cassette of Black Sabbath to play softly in the background. There was no question about it you loved Eddie completely and truly and no one and nothing could take those feelings away from you. As you removed your dress in front of him and bared yourself completely to him, he watched your every move with a glint in his eyes. He was very much enjoying the sight of you becoming naked right in front of him. As you undressed he removed his shirt and belt. Nearby your cheerleading uniform was just lying there which gave you an idea. You put it on for him. First the very short skirt and then the top. With curiosity-filled eyes, Eddie watched as you got dressed.
"Wow, that looks so hot on you. I always thought you looked sexy in that uniform but with no panties or bra. That's the hottest thing that I've ever seen in my entire life."
You blushed upon hearing him say this and went over to the bed getting on top of him and kissing him. Softly at first and then with passion. He felt so good and you loved these intimate moments you shared with him. His hands moved towards your waist and then over your ass and squeezed which elicited some giggles from you.
"Reach lower, Eddie," you instructed him playfully and he moved his hands to your bare ass and aching, needy pussy. He groaned in contentment as his hands moved over your body exploring it. You felt like the luckiest girl alive and you wanted to give it all to him tonight. It was the most perfect time to make love to him and to show him just how much you cared about him and truly loved him.
"I want to suck your cock," you seductively whispered as you began to kiss his neck and collarbone, then lower peppering kisses on his chest and stomach. There were still light bruises on his skin and you kissed them to show you loved him despite his injuries. Everything about him and his body was beautiful to you.
"Fuck. I needed that."
You begin to move his pants down unzipping them and removing them completely as well as his boxers. As his erection sprung free, you admired his length and girth with your mouth agape wanting more than anything to finally taste him.
"So big Eddie. So big for me."
"Let me taste you though."
You maneuvered yourself so that your pussy was on his face already glistening with precum. As you worked his cock in your hands, running your fingers over his shaft, he got even bigger for you and your mouth was salivating now in anticipation of taking him inside of your mouth. As you licked a thin stripe over his cockhead and shaft, you cradled his balls and he began to lick your clit, moving his tongue over your slit and parting your folds with his fingers. Little did you know he had wanted to taste you and do this for such a long time. There was so much self-control he had practiced in anticipation for this very moment. The sounds of licking and other wet, lewd noises could be heard as you worked his cock in your mouth and he sucked on your clit and fingered your wetness.
The way Eddie made you feel was incredible and you were so wet because of him. His cock hardened with your touch as you gathered his precum with your fingers and cupped his balls squeezing them gently.
"You taste so fuckin' good, Y/N," he groaned as you licked and sucked on his cock and began to take him even deeper inside your mouth.
It was more than lust at this point- so much more. Having him there with you like this and showing just how much you needed him, and wanted him was beyond just the physical aspects of it. He was so tender and passionate and you did your best to please him as best as you knew how. Soon you came close to taking him fully inside of your mouth. As his tongue tangled in your wet folds he fingered you and groaned. What he craved were the wet sounds your pussy was making as your juices coated his fingers and he loved to hear your beautiful moans. It wasn't much longer before he felt a bit close to his release but he wouldn't let that happen yet- not until he was inside of you.
"Baby stop. Please. Can't take it any longer. I need to be inside of you," he whined as you stroked his shaft now replacing your tongue with your hand.
"I want to feel you inside me too."
"I didn't bring any condoms. Fuck," he growled lowly as he pressed his hands to his forehead in frustration.
"Eddie, please don't ruin the moment. It's fine. I just started going on birth control and I'm clean. I know you are too. I always used protection in the past," you assured him.
"Really? I've always used protection before too. Well, it was only other one person but.." You changed your position so you were facing him and met his lips in a kiss cutting him off instantly.
"Just make love to me already, Eddie."
He greedily pulled you in for more sloppy kisses as you straddled his leg. You pulled away just to remove your shirt and toss aside your skirt as well before positioning yourself onto his thick cock. As you moved down fully on him, he held onto your waist and began to rut his hips up pushing into your slick heat. It felt so fuckin' good to be as one with you like this. Sealing his lips in another kiss you began to move slowly on his cock and ran your hands through his beautiful locks of hair as he firmly moved you on his cock and bucked up inside of you.
"I love your body. I love this so much," you mewled against his lips as his deep thrusts made you feel so fuckin' good and you craved him more than ever.
"I love it all. I love everything about you, my beautiful girl," he solemnly swore as he looked deeply into your eyes.
Your pretty moans turned him on as your body moved with his and listening to his groans that were just for you was one of the hottest things ever. The way he made you feel and vice-versa was comparable to no other and at that moment more than ever you wished you had waited to lose your virginity to him. Nothing could change that now but this time it felt so important and special and no matter what happened next with him you knew you would cherish this time with him forever. The way he made you feel and how tender, loving, and caring he was with you as you touched each other and he caressed your face- made you feel like you were truly the most beautiful girl. No doubt about it he was the one for you. There was so much affection between the two of you and he gave you so many kisses. It was so passionate and it felt like true love.
The way he moved inside of you was tender and just the perfect pace. He fit inside of you so perfectly and he was the best lover you could ever ask for. You loved him so much and hearing his gasps and groans was the biggest turn-on and only caused you to moan louder for him.
"Baby, I'm getting so close are you?" He asked sincerely as he looked up into your beautiful eyes with his gorgeous brown ones.
"Yes. So close," you groaned as you kept your pace steady on top of him and held onto his shoulders as your bodies moved together in sync as one.
Eddie felt like you were the most amazing girl he had ever met and was so mesmerized by your beauty and your stunning features but most of all he thought you had a good heart and he was attracted to your personality best of all and loved it more than anything else about you. You made him feel so alive and he felt like he belonged with you. You would never give up on him and couldn't imagine being with anyone else or seeing him with anyone else. He felt the same way.
As his hands moved from your waist to your breasts he tenderly cupped them and pinched your nipples which caused you to cry out his name and this elicited a huge smirk from him.
"Eddie I'm gonna cum," you protested as he hit your g-spot.
"Me too. Where do you want my cum?"
"Inside me," you moaned as he circled your clit with his fingers wanting to have you reach your orgasm first. You were practically thrown over the edge of ecstasy as he did this to you and only moments later you were cumming for him and crying out his name once again but even louder this time. Almost right after he came inside of you filling you up and grunting as he spilled his seed so deep. Slowly you got off him and laid down by his side once you had come down from your high and cleaned yourself up. Minutes passed and you held onto each other enjoying his company. Soon after that, the silence was broken by your confession.
"I love you, Eddie."
"I love you too Y/N. So much."
Graduation
You stood in your cap and gown as you faced the mirror. It was finally going to happen. You were going to move on away from high school but now you had the love of your life. Eddie was still shunned by the community, and of course, needed to be in an undisclosed location but you were so proud of him because of what he did to destroy Vecna. Most importantly you loved how he changed your life and became your best friend and boyfriend in the process. The valedictorian was Robin and you were so proud of her. After she gave her speech everyone stood and cheered her on. The graduates were ready and waited patiently for the diplomas to be handed out and as you waited for your name to be called you thought about the future and how no matter what you wanted Eddie to be a part of it. The names were called and once you were up at the podium you accepted your diploma with a smile on your face as you thought about Eddie and being with him again. Afterward, you wasted no time in going to your car and driving to see him. As much as you wanted to watch your other friends accept their diplomas you wanted alone time with your man most of all. Soon he would be moving to a new place with Wayne in Colorado near the mountains with some distant relatives and family to seek refuge away from this town that hated him and any further police scrutiny. College was so far away from him on the east coast but you knew your relationship would make it through. The only reason you would go to Georgetown was because of your scholarship and the good academic program. The next two months you spent all your time with Eddie and the summer passed quickly. Every day felt like a gift with him and you cherished it completely.
1 month later:
The search for the real killer was given up, once the gang including Eleven, Max, Robin, Steve, you, Eddie, Dustin, Nancy, Will, Mike, and Lucas went to the upside down again to defeat Vecna once and for all. Once Nancy and Eleven started having visions again everyone came together to return to the upside down. With more powerful weapons and ammunition this time, you manipulated him and brought him down forever. Even better Chrissy, Patrick, and the others were freed from the confines of the curse of Vecna and came back to life.
Epilogue- Christmas break
Finally, your first semester of college was over and you were eager to see Eddie in Colorado from DC and spend the holidays together. It was rough, especially at first being away so far from him as he stayed behind and recorded with his band then toured the country. While you were away at college Eddie's job and passion was designing guitars. He had also been working diligently on getting his GED and he finally did. When he called with the news you were ecstatic for him. You were so proud of Eddie and only wanted the very best for him and he felt the same way. While you were in DC he was watching Ozzy for you and you couldn't wait to be reunited with them both. Once you landed at the airport he greeted you with a flower bouquet and a big hug and kiss. It was now the time to show him the fresh tattoo you had recently gotten done. The tattoo in question was two black hearts and a flame with Eddie's name in one heart and your name in the other.
"I missed you so much, babe. I'm just so glad you are here with me now," he told you sincerely with excitement.
He got down on one knee and opened up a small box containing two rings with black hearts and some crystals surrounding the two hearts.
"They are promise rings. One for each of us. I love you Y/N."
You accepted the ring putting it on your ring finger and admiring the stones and their beauty in the light. He put on the other ring admiring it as he held it up next to yours.
"I love it and I love you too. I have a surprise. A tattoo. My first one." You lifted your shoulder to reveal the tattoo to him and he gasped in pleasant surprise as he saw it.
"I love it. It's amazing!" No one had ever gotten a tattoo for him before and he loved the surprise. Enveloping him in a hug, you held him tightly never wanting to let go of him. Pulling him in for another kiss your lips melted against his with a fiery passion. You never wanted this feeling to end.
"Eddie I'm transferring to Colorado after next semester and I want you to move in with me." You had planned on getting a nice apartment or condo and with your part-time job and internship, you were making good money.
"Yes. A million times yes. I want that more than anything."
He kissed and hugged you again then placed his arm around your shoulder as he walked with you out of the airport carrying your bags for you in his other hand.
"I can't imagine not being with you and apart any longer. Just 4 more months of this after the winter break," you happily mused as you walked with him to his van.
"When my new band finally tours I want you to come with us if you can. Arent there correspondence courses where you can mail your work in?"
"You are so smart. Yes, there is. I can do that. Long-distance learning. I'd like that a lot."
Once in his van, he started the engine letting it warm up. A light sprinkle of snow was already forming on the ground and snowflakes were gathering on his windshield. It was so nice to be in a place like Colorado. When you got back to Eddie's new place which was an apartment Steve and Robin jumped out yelling surprise as you entered his front door.
"A surprise party for me? This is so awesome! Thanks, baby!" You gave him a quick kiss before going to greet them all.
Eddie stayed watching from a slight distance feeling happy that you were so happy. He had baked a cake, especially for you, and your favorite movies were rented on VHS along with so much food. Being there was all you needed and you were feeling so content with life at that moment. A year from now you weren't sure what your life would be like but you just hoped that Eddie would still be a part of it. He had no intention of letting you go and he would be there for the long haul. The party was amazing of course and the whole break. Who knows maybe a year from now or 2 years even 5 you would be Mrs. Munson. For now, you were living life with the best friends a girl could ever ask for and the man of your dreams- former freak/Banished now the love of your life Eddie Munson.
tag list: @jadeylovesmarvelxo @ali-r3n @mrprettywhenhecries @koskeepsake @munson-mjstan @seatnights @keikoraven @iliketoreadandcry @eddies-bunny @loopylupinmoons @unholycheesesnack @emsgoodthinkin @corrodedcorpses @thescoopstroopers @aleisashortcake @zestychili @hellv1ra @races-erster @angelicbabydolll @wendyxox @st4rr-girrl @therandommindofcorinne @a-wild-kaylin-appears @littlered0000 @them-cute-boys @haceleyes @leins-stuff @mik-bxrnes @fallenxcherub @yourdailymemedelivery @eddxemxnson @angelscientia-caelum @randomreader1999 @crazycat-ladys-blog @ruefulposts @ofhawkinsandvecna @spenciesprincess
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yayakoishii · 6 hours
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hi! could i request for fluff and comfort with ace? there was this one reddit post i saw abt a guy who rambled abt being so grateful and happy that he's loved by his girlfriend, and the post described how he felt that way when they were having a bath together (nonsexual, i promise! feel free to look the reddit post up). i thought the prompt suited ace so much, esp since the guy in that reddit post mentioned that he cried out of happiness, so maybe smth like this with ace x fem!reader?
ofc, feel free to skip if it makes u uncomfy ^^
~ ♠️ anon
shower me in your love | Ace x Reader
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x GN! Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Genre: Fluff, Comfort
Warning(s): Nudity (non-sexual)
A/n: I loved this idea so much anon, I was so excited to write it for so long TT but post-exam creativity block really hit hard so this is a bit later than I had hoped to put out. Also, you asked for fem!reader but I think this fic never specified any body parts or pronouns at any point, so it ended up gender neutral haha... This is my first time attempting to write Ace, so please forgive any oocness ><
Please do not ask me the mechanics of a bathtub on a pirate ship and let's just pretend that can work out because the sea is on my side, 'kay? I hope you enjoy ♡ and thank you for the request!
also available on ao3!
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The sun had dipped beneath the horizon but the sky was still clinging onto a fading orange. Above him, it was already starting to look like a dark midnight blue mixing into violet. Ace's shoulders slouched, the tension seeping out as he made his way to his sleeping quarters. The day had been hectic, and even the usually energised division commander was feeling a bit exhausted.
Ace couldn't wait to drop into his bed and fall asleep but the plan went out the window when he opened his door to find you sitting on his bed, your back to him.
"Hey," he called out, making you snap your neck around. Just the sight of your bright smile got a little more tension out of him. You bounced up to him, hands immediately coming up to cradle his face. You pulled him into a soft kiss and Ace exhaled slowly, pressing his body into your own soft one.
Out of the two of you, Ace was definitely the one with the higher body temperature but somehow, when you hugged, he couldn't help but feel that you were more… warmer. It was a different sort of warmth than physical– more emotional, he supposed. You felt a little bit like coming home, like coming to a fireplace after a day out in the snow.
"Hey," you said quietly, pulling back just enough to admire his face. He didn't have to say anything; he could see the understanding on your face with just one glance. "It's been an exhausting day, huh?"
"Mm," he didn't feel like talking about it, instead opting to drop his head on your shoulder. Ace pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, taking the familiar light scent of you. You giggled at the sensation, playfully pushing him without any real strength to it.
"That tickles!"
"You smell amazing," he whispered. You blushed, pushing at him with a bit more strength now.
"I'm sweaty, what do you mean?" You huffed out another short laugh. "And so are you, mister. C'mon, how about a nice hot bath, hm? I already set it up for the both of us while waiting."
Ace finally pulled away, looking at you with the softest expression. This time, he was the one to cradle your face in his hands. Pressing a light kiss on your forehead, he murmured a quiet admission of love. Gentle hands guided him toward the bathroom, shutting the doors behind him. Ace stood there as you removed his clothes and accessories with somewhat practised hands. When the both of you were undressed, you pulled him into the bathtub and sat down in between his legs.
This close, you could feel that Ace was running warmer than even the hot water around you. He quickly pressed a peck on the tip of your nose to surprise you, then grabbed the bottle of shampoo and soap to start but you stopped him. You took the shampoo out of his hands and smiled warmly when he looked at you with curiosity.
"How about I wash you today?" There was a hint of shyness in your voice, along with a sparkling in your eyes. Ace just nodded dumbfoundedly, watching you carefully squeeze out some of the shampoo into your hands. "Alright, stay still, I'll go sit behind you."
You stood up, the water splashing a bit as you carefully manoeuvred around to sit on the edge of the tub that was attached to the wall. Ace let your free hand guide his frame in between your legs and waited for a few seconds.
The moment your shampoo lathered finger dipped into his hair, he felt boneless. You weren't even doing much, just carding your fingers and working out the tangles as you ensured that the shampoo properly washed the roots and the tips, but it felt so good.
Ace couldn't really remember the last time someone touched him with such gentleness, such care and love. (He couldn't even remember who would have touched him like that the last time. Was it his mother?) You hummed a song he had heard you singing in passing, as you pressed your fingers into his scalp for a slight massage.
Another shaky exhale left his mouth along with the last remaining tension in his shoulders. Ace closed his eyes. With a soft hum, he pressed his head back into your stomach, heart singing at the sound of your giggle echoing in the small bathroom.
"Hey!" You said indignantly, pushing at his foam covered head. "Don't put your shampoo on my stomach."
It made Ace smile and he obliged, leaning his head away. You didn't touch him for a few minutes and he cracked his eyes open to look around at you, to find that you were shampooing your own hair now. You slid down into the tub and he made some space between the wall and him so you could sit properly. Once you were done, you wiped off the foam on your hand and switched to the soap.
"Alright, c'mere, my big baby," you grunted, trying to pull him by his arm. He blinked then let you pull him into the position you wanted. And then you are sitting in his lap, soap being lathered onto his skin with diligent hands. He didn't say anything and just stared quietly at you from the close proximity.
Normally, having you in his lap would get him a little… excited, but today, the action was so non-sexual and domestic, it seemed to hurt. Every movement and word you had said felt mind-numbingly relaxing. Half a year ago, if someone had suggested he would be in this position with you, he would have laughed and called them to get their marbles checked.
Right now though, he couldn't believe his own luck as your fingers dragged over him with a gentleness he had yet to experience from elsewhere. He was strong. Everyone knew that. You knew that. But even knowing that, you always touched him so softly, so gently, that it made him feel like he was made out of fragile brittle glass.
He kinda liked it.
To be vulnerable in front of you only was something he could agree to. No one had ever been this patient and loving towards him, and the fact that he loved you too much to even put it into words crashed around inside him as he watched you soap yourself up.
You were beautiful, obviously. He had to be blind to not notice how gorgeous you were. But sometimes, he couldn't help but think that your real beauty lies in how you just fit in with everyone so well. You were understanding, you were kind and you were there whenever anyone needed you. You were there when Ace needed you. And even though you were there for him, silently understanding what he needed, you never expected anything back for it. It was purely an act of love.
He wasn't talking much like usual today, but you didn't say anything about it. You only continued in your actions, washing away the soap and the shampoo with the water. Ace continued to stare at you, wondering if you were really real.
You were so good to him. He remembered when Marco had mentioned after you announced your relationship that you were good for him. He hadn't really understood the depth of that sentence until now. Until this moment, sitting in his bathtub that was definitely not made for two people, as you washed him even though he was a grown adult who could do it himself.
And it wasn't really about the ability to do it, was it? It was more about the feelings and the thoughts behind the action– it was about the care you felt. Of course you knew he could do it– but you wanted to do it for him anyway because you loved him.
You loved him so much, he couldn't help but feel thoroughly loved and blessed. You, who could have fallen in love with anyone, had fallen in love with him. On his down days, he couldn't help but think that you deserved better than him. Right now though, he couldn't think of anything else but the fact that he was so grateful that you chose him out of everyone.
Whatever made you choose him– he would forever be grateful to it. You were the best thing to happen to him.
"Ace?" Your concerned voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he looked at you. You were done cleaning off both of you, but you were back in his lap. Familiar hands came up to wipe away what Ace realised were tears streaming down his face. He felt a little mortified that he cried over something so small but, like always, it was like you could read his mind. "It's not insignificant if it makes you feel something so strong. Just let it out, hm?"
He didn't really need your 'permission', but the moment you said that, his body seemed to take it as the cue to cry even more. Warm tears rolled down his cheeks and he felt you guide his face into the crook of your neck– you knew he felt embarrassed about crying in front of you. You just did it to let him save face; you let him hide his face in your embrace.
Ace sobbed into your neck, body shaking as he felt your fingers card through his hair and draw hearts into his back, over his tattoo. The two of you stayed like that for a while until the tears finally stopped.
"Let's dry up?" Your eyes were soft as you helped him stand up and out of the bathtub. "And then we can cuddle in bed all night. How does that sound?"
You didn't need to say it out loud to let him know how you felt. Ace watched you wrap a towel around him and then yourself, the unspoken words lingering in the air alongside the steam.
"Sounds amazing."
I love you too.
°•❀•°
all likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡
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writingonleaves · 3 days
Text
were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? (did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?) - jeremy swayman
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pairing: jeremy swayman x original female character
warnings: swearing, pretty angsty. hopeful ish ending because i can't do sad endings, very personal but i think many can relate in their own way, cliche ish, barely proofread
inspired by + title: "the smallest man who ever lived" by taylor swift
word count: 5.6k
author's note: i'd argue almost every piece any author writes is personal, because it has their life interspersed through the words. but this one really is, because a majority of this is the exact same words i wrote years ago after a break-up. heard the bridge to this song and immediately knew i had to write something inspired by it. also trying a new format of sorts (maybe a bit meta??), so i hope you enjoy and lmk what you think!!
~*~*~
When Noelle Betsko walked away from Jeremy Swayman, holding back tears until the call dropped, she knew it was going to be a tough time for the foreseeable future. 
It didn’t matter that the pandemic had forced them apart. She knew she would still feel him for months to come.
She did the only thing she knows how to do when trying to deal with things. The one thing she always resorts to as an aspiring novelist. Sometimes on her laptop when the words were spilling out too quickly for her brain to catch up, tears littering the keyboard. Usually in her old beat-up journal, scribbling in the cursive that Jeremy claimed he always loved (“It makes your handwriting unique”) with the pens he had gifted her just a few months prior. 
At the age of 21, Noelle got her heart broken for the first time. At the age of 26, she’s about to publish her first poetry collection of sorts, all of the poems modeled after journal entries written throughout her life. So not really poetry, though her mother would say otherwise. 
She swallows as she thumbs through the middle part of the first known and binded copy of “miscellaneous.” There are only eight entries in the whole collection that are taken verbatim from her past writing. These are the eight.
May 13, 2020 (three days post-breakup, crying in my childhood bedroom)
I don’t even recognize who I was and who you were in those writings before these pages filled with love and hope and happiness. I can’t even summon up those feelings anymore that I knew existed at one point. Those feelings of complete bliss and love for someone so deep you can’t explain it. 
I’m mad at myself for not being able to conjure those feelings, because at one point, I did love you. How could something that was part of my daily life for over two years just disappear so quickly? 
But now, I’m not mad at myself. I’m mad, but I don’t know where to direct that anger to. I feel a bit empty sometimes, but then frustrated the next. Sometimes I get sad, but not so much compared to the other feelings. I spent enough time being sad during our relationship.
When we broke up, on an annoyingly beautiful Tuesday in May — over the damn phone, mind you, which whatever, it’s COVID. Fine — You told me you felt like you had been putting more effort into us. 
At the time, I didn’t react, but I’ve been thinking about how angry that statement made me. Makes me, actually. I was always very open with how much I gave to that relationship. How much it meant to me. How much it affected me. But I understand that with some people, sharing everything too much equates to things not meaning anything anymore. But you out of all people should’ve known that I mean everything I say.
I felt like I gave so much. I know I gave so much. When I told you I loved you, I always meant it. Every single time. When I told you I missed you, I always meant it. I wished you were right next to me at that moment. I mentally gave so much, because to me, I wanted to. You were always on my mind, always high up on my list of priorities. I never took us for granted.
I’ve been questioning if that was the same for you. Did you start becoming complacent?
The second thing you said that day that hasn’t left my head is that you knew me pretty well. And initially, I remember not thinking much of it. So I don’t doubt that; you always knew right when I was about to cry, even over the phone. You often knew when I was mad or upset, but when I look back now, you never pushed. Which is a good thing, to an extent. But it was a bad thing sometimes too. I knew you often wanted to give me space, but sometimes I didn’t want space. I wanted you to push. To try to understand. Maybe that’s unfair of me; it probably is. I should just say I want to talk about it more, right? 
But if you genuinely knew me, you would’ve known.
After two years, seven months and 12 days,  I still feel like I didn’t know you. Did I ever know you at all?
When people talked shit about you, I always defended you. And I still would defend you now. But lately, I've questioned what I’m even defending. All those good qualities that I thought you had, were they even real? Of course, I know some of them were, to a certain extent. But as I look back on us, there’s a lot of doubt about whether I even knew the person I called my boyfriend for so long. I know there was a point where you cared about me, but I can’t remember when. 
I often felt like I was letting you know so much about my life, but you didn’t do the same. I get that sometimes a person just wants to forget about the bad and focus on the good with a person you like for awhile. I get that. But once that was happening every damn time? That should’ve been a red flag. 
June 7, 2020 (twenty eight days post break-up, outside my childhood room on the deck) 
I don’t understand how you can give so much to something or someone and have it not be recognized or appreciated or enough. If I wasn’t enough for you, how will I be enough for anyone?
I hope one day you’ll truly understand how much this hurt. Not just the breakup, but feeling like I was always being pulled in a direction I didn’t always want to be pulled in. Feeling I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and never ever being able to win. I hate that I settled so much in the last year. Because I should’ve demanded more, even though deep down I knew you were never going to be able to give it to me.
I think back to our past daily texts, and I just don’t get it. At one point, we both meant the things we said to each other. 
Yet we still hurt each other. 
This fucking hurts.
You’ve hurt me so much, but most of it wasn’t intentional, which I think is somewhat even worse. Because I’m not totally mad at you for causing the pain. You never did anything outright to cause me pain, but I still feel like you did. 
Unintentional pain almost stings more than intentional. 
When I asked you out that night after we were both on an emotional high, I took a chance. For once in my life, I took the leap, knowing that I could get humiliated or hurt or just straight up shot down. 
Where did it all go wrong? Or, more realistically, how did we think that we could go through the wrong when it was there at the start?
I’m trying not to blame myself too much. Trying not to tell myself that I should’ve known better. 
All those times, especially at the start, when I would ask you if you genuinely liked me, you always thought I was just trying to be annoying. But you never understood that I genuinely thought that way. My self confidence from the start was lacking, and you didn’t try to understand that, because I come across to everyone as confident and self-assured. 
It hurt, when you would brush things off like that. I felt like you didn’t care.
And then, it got to the point where I stopped asking that question. Part of that is because I did become more confident and you did show that you cared, and part of that was because I knew it would piss you off.
The amount of things I was scared to talk about with you because I knew it would piss you off? I don’t wish that feeling on anybody.
I shouldn’t have been scared. I shouldn’t have been uncomfortable. But I was. And if you did notice like sometimes you claimed to, why didn’t you make it more comfortable for me? Was that too much to ask for? 
So larger than life that at the end, you faded into just the smallest man who ever lived. Fuck you.
Was it too much to ask for when I just wanted to know why you were upset? You didn’t have to ever tell me the full story (lord knows there were times I didn’t), but was it too much to ask for something? You told me once that I’m the person you’ve told the most to. How? You barely told me anything. And when I wanted to talk to you, whether it was about growing up in Alaska or why you were in a bad mood last night, you always brushed it off. Always. 
So I don’t feel so bad about feeling like I gave more effort. I gave so much of myself to you. If you really cared about me like you claimed you did, why couldn’t you show even just 1% of that care back? Or just meet me in the middle?
I could’ve tried harder to meet you in the middle, I’ll admit that. But you didn’t even give me a map or a clue how to. 
I felt so fucking left in the dark. I felt left in the dark about my own fucking relationship, something that I should be completely sure about. If you really love someone and care about them, how can you leave them in the dark? How could you not even see that I was struggling to find a flashlight?
You did care about me. I know that. To some extent and at some point in time, you did care about me. But caring about someone and their well-being isn’t always enough.
Why couldn’t you have worked with me? When I was extending my hand out, why didn’t you reach for it? How can someone just be so blind? I mean, I’m practically always spelling it out for you. 
Maybe I am being selfish. But fuck, I just wanted to be happy. At some point, you made me happy. When did I start making you feel like I wasn’t enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you?
It’s useless, in a way, to keep going about this. Because I know I deserve better. And we’ll both find people who are better for us. We just couldn’t be that person to each other.
I fucking loved you.
I wish it ended differently.
July 8, 2020 (fifty nine days post-breakup, in front of the lake)
I really really fucking miss you. 
I do. 
I miss being able to text you that i love you and not necessarily expecting a response until the next morning. I miss knowing that as soon as you wake up, you’ll text me back and assure me that yeah, you love me too. 
I’m left feeling bittersweet as I look back on memories that are just splashes and not definite strokes on the canvas that used to be us.
I miss having you as a friend. 
I’ve been having more urges lately to want to text you. And it isn’t even anything important. Just moments I experience throughout the day.
Do you get the urge to do the same?
July 19, 2020 (seventy days post-breakup, still in the same damn house)
It’s hard. It really is. And it kinda just hits you at random parts of the day. Sometimes I wake up from a dream that you were in and have to remind myself that it didn’t happen. 
Sometimes it physically aches when I realize that you won’t ever help me put on my jacket again, or complain that my hair is in your face when we’re lying on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, or groan when I drag you up to dance with me (which you never improved on, no matter how many times I tried to teach you basic rhythm). I can’t view our song the same way anymore, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. 
The other day, I read some simple thing on Twitter. I don’t even remember what it was, but I do remember that for a split second, I could see your smile in my mind. But it wasn’t just any smile. It was the smile you gave me when you took me ice skating that first time. I remember asking you what you were smiling at, and you said that you just were taking in this moment. I don’t know if you took a mental picture that day, but I know I did. That day seems so long ago now. 
In almost anything I do, you somehow pop into my mind or into the conversation. And it’s not even in a harmful way either. It’s because you were part of my life for so long. I see a dog on the street, and it reminds me of how you always stopped to pet every single one we’s see I write something in my messy handwriting, and I remember how you always used to complain that you couldn’t read the notes I’d occasionally leave around your place when you went away. I went to the doctor’s the other day, and they said I was 5 feet and 3 inches, which is just definitely not true, and I almost reached for my phone to text you, because you would’ve cackled and insisted that no, I’m 5 feet 2 inches and it wouldn’t even matter because I’ll always be shorter than you. It’s simple and minute things that make me miss you that much more.
I still can’t listen to some songs the same way anymore, but I can at least listen to them now, which is a feat in itself. I was unpacking from college and found the teddy bear you sent me the first extended time we had to be apart and had to immediately put that out of my sight. From those boxes also came photos that I had decorated my dorm room with, and to be honest, I’m glad now that I let you keep our best one. I deal with all my emotions, besides writing, by making Spotify playlists, and I made a new one earlier this week. I think it’s helping. It’s a slow process, this whole moving on thing, but it’s one that I’m trying to be grateful for, because like most things in life, you just don’t truly know until you go through it.
Sometimes, I find myself wondering how you are and how you’re healing. But, even though we’ve both changed since the day we met, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you’re incredibly strong and stubborn. I hope that you’re finding some growth in this process too. 
October 17, 2020 (one hundred fifty seven days post-break up, apartment in orono)
It’s been almost 5 months, and you still cross my mind everyday. 
Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why didn’t you fucking tell me what you were thinking? Why was I the one who had to approach you just because I was just so done with the silent treatment?
But I’m not mad at you. Not anymore. The mad phase passed ages ago. 
Closure is a fake word. Even a breakup as mutual and smooth as ours was still left me with so many questions that will probably never be answered. 
Any breakup fucks you up to some extent. I knew it was going to mess me up even back when we were together. But not like this. Never like this. 
But like anything in life, I guess you can never really prepare for what you think you might feel, because most of the time, you discover a whole new side of you that you never thought existed. 
I don’t miss you. I don’t. I don’t feel that love in any way anymore. 
But I did once.
You did too, right?
November 15, 2020 (one hundred eighty six days post break-up, fogler library)
I hate Halloween. 
Though, it did bring me to you three years ago. I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you right then and there. 
Three years later, you texted me on Halloween, five months after our breakup. The universe really, really wanted to fuck with me. 
It was a tough night for you. I knew that. Because I know how you are after losing a game you should’ve won. But that didn’t mean that I owed you anything and had to respond. 
We agreed on no contact if we ever wanted to stay friends. Clearly, friends is out of the picture now, but come on. A vulnerable text after a bad night because you know I would feel bad for you?
Fuck, you know how much I would hate that. You had to have known. 
Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean that everything about you just disappears. I still know your tendencies. I still know exactly how my head burrows into your chest during a hug. I still know the actions I used to do that would be followed by you attacking me with a hug. I still could point you out in a crowd. 
I looked for you in every crowd for years. 
That stuff doesn’t just go away, no matter how much I want it to. But fuck. Fuck. Why did you text me? 
I don’t regret how I handled it. I probably would’ve responded months ago. But just like you, I’ve grown these last couple of months. 
It was comforting, for a split second, to know that maybe, just maybe, these past couple of months have been hard for you too. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel like I’m not crazy.
I’m glad you texted me. You gave me another level of closure I hadn’t known that I needed until then. 
But fuck, dude. You know me better than that. You should know me better than that. 
I hate Halloween.
November 26, 2020 (one hundred ninety seven days, at the coffee shop i brought you to when you came home with me two years ago)
I don’t regret loving you, but I hate you for what you did to me. 
Or maybe not. 
I hate knowing that even though we haven’t been in a relationship in a bit, it feels like sometimes, you’re on my mind the exact same amount when we were dating. I hate knowing that I gave so much of myself and my love to you, and it always felt unrecognized. 
Fuck, will it ever stop hurting? Will I ever be able to have to stop myself from thinking about you? Will it ever stop?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
Happy birthday. I hope you enjoy it.
June 12, 2021 (three hundred ninety five days post-break up, in boston, visiting a friend)
Tonight, when a friend asked me about you and how I felt about how we ended, I was able to articulate my thoughts clearly. I’m really proud of myself for getting to a point where I can take the lessons I learned the few months after we broke up and acknowledge them in a succinct way without breaking down into tears. Just watery eyes and the occasional voice crack 
I’m also proud that I can say that when we were dating, I lost a bit of myself. For months, it was really hard to admit out loud.
I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Sometimes, I wish I could call or text you about it, because I think you’d be proud too. And I know I’d be proud of you. I am, to be honest. I do break resolve once in awhile and check on you through various avenues.
I still haven’t seen you in person since the last time COVID made us say goodbye. Maybe I never will again. But day by day, I’m starting to accept that and be okay with it. I’m accepting that memories that used to be so painted in my mind are blurry or almost completely erased now. But that’s okay. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. 
I wonder, when you think about it, if you think about different moments that I do. That’s the thing when something ends. You have to be okay with letting go of those moments and realizing that just because you forget them, doesn’t mean they weren’t important. 
I don’t think I miss you. I hesitate in saying that. Because I’ve moved on and handled the aftermath of it better than I think both of us ever thought I could. When you hung up the phone for the last time, I proved to myself again that I’m stronger than I give myself credit for. I think we all are. But we don’t realize it until we’re thrown into a situation that we think we’ll never be able to overcome. 
But we do. Whether it’s because we’re forced to because there’s no other option, it doesn’t matter. Because we get through. We move on. 
I hope you're moving on. 
And then it goes into other topics, graduating during a pandemic specifically and losing what’s supposed to be your last year of no responsibilities before adulthood. There are other poems in here that reference a past relationship, but not as much as these eight. 
If there’s one thing that Noelle did change, it was taking out the details. Jeremy may have hurt her, but he doesn’t deserve someone possibly making a connection between these poems and their shared background. She’s not a famous author by any means, but she wanted to be careful.
Not that she makes that part of her life publicly known. People don’t need to know that her brother was Jeremy’s captain for two years at Maine and that’s how they met. 
Noelle grew up going to rinks. She hasn’t gone to one since they broke up. 
But also, what the fuck? It’s been five years since she’s dated the guy. She really is over it by now, even if his rise to stardom in the Bruins flittering on her social media feeds still sometimes has her swallowing a bit before she can continue with her day. 
Brooklyn is far enough from Boston. But sometimes it feels like it’s right outside her door. 
She’s proud of her first published work. She really is. People believed in her and after numerous notes swapped back and forth with her editor, she did it. She always knew she wanted to work in publishing. She never knew she herself would publish anything.
And here she is now, two weeks after the book release, in Boston, about to do a q&a and a signing. Apparently, “miscellaneous” has been on top of numerous lists and it’s flying off the shelves. Noelle can’t really believe it and tries not to think about it too much, trusting her agent with all of that. 
She’s happy to talk about her work and process though. That she can handle. And she’s grateful for all the love.
After a signing at a local bookstore, she decides to walk the 20 minutes home in the Boston fall. It’s a bit brisk, but she doesn’t mind and she just wanders, belly filled with delicious sushi she inhaled for dinner with an old friend.
Of course it happens the one time during her walk when she doesn’t avoid eye contact with someone. The song playing in her earbuds fade out of her focus and she almost stumbles. 
Jeremy’s eyes were always Noelle’s favorite thing about him. She thought she would’ve forgotten what they looked like by now. But clearly she hasn’t. 
Her eyes quickly cast to the person next to him. It’s definitely a girl. They’re a bit too far away for Noelle to pick out details. But it’s enough. He’s walking on the side closest to the street. It’s a Friday Night in a bustling part of the city. 
It hurts. She wishes it didn’t.
Even from far away, she sees his eyes blink in recognition. Noelle puts her head back down and walks faster. 
(She cries in the shower when she gets back to the hotel. She had debated feeling super sorry for herself and going to the hotel bar but refrained)
She has a few free days in Boston before flying back to New York. When she wakes up the next morning, she debates on going home early. But no, she won’t let a three second glance at someone ruin her time here. She used to occasionally come here during her college days. She loves this city. 
The city may be Jeremy’s, but she can make space for herself here too. 
She takes her time at a cafe, people watching and eating some breakfast. As she takes her coffee to-go, she looks out the window at the bookstore she was in the night before for the signing. She almost drops her coffee. 
Jeremy walks into the book store. 
Now, Noelle is debating her options. What she should do is continue with her day and walk in the opposite direction. But she’s always been too nosy for her own good. And maybe a bit self destructive. She decides to leave the cafe and cross the street immediately, so impatient to where she’s almost tapping her foot as the pedestrian signal stays red. 
As a writer, she’s no stranger to movie moments. The scenes written in books or movies where the timing is too accurate to be real. The situation too good to be true. But after a car speeds through an orange and she can finally walk, she stops in her tracks instead, feet glued down to the sidewalk.
Because Jeremy is right in front of her on the other side of the street. Her book in his hand. And he’s looking right at her. 
The first feeling she can recognize in herself is anger. Anger at the way their relationship panned out. Anger at the way they ended. Anger at the radio silence the years following. Anger at him for everything. Angry at herself for everything. 
The second feeling is, weirdly, shame, which she’s embarrassed by. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. But she feels it anyways. 
The third, and perhaps the most prominent, is emptiness. Five fucking years later, and she’s brought back to the emptiness she felt immediately after they broke up. The emptiness that the person you loved isn’t yours anymore — who maybe wasn’t ever yours to begin with. 
Before she can run, he’s already crossed the street to her. He looks naturally different as someone who you haven’t seen in five years would. But he also heartbreakingly looks the same. 
“We should get out of people’s way,” Noelle manages to chokes out. 
Jeremy laughs a bit. Her heart lurches. “Yeah.” He starts walking and she follows him wordlessly. This is his city after all. 
He leads them to a bench under a tree with beautiful fall foliage. She puts at least a foot between them as they both sit down, staring out at the people passing. She can’t take the silence. 
“I see you bought my book.”
“I did,” he replies evenly. “Congratulations. I always knew you would do it.”
She squeezes her eyes shut. Maybe if she squeezes hard enough she’ll forget when she originally pitched Jeremy the bare bones idea of the exact same book that’s currently in his hand. “Thank you. Congratulations to you too. On everything.”
“You’ve been watching?”
She shakes her head. “No. But, you know Seth and…yeah. It comes up during family calls sometimes.”
“Why didn’t you say hi last night?”
She looks pointedly at a couple walking their dog. “You seemed busy.”
“She wasn’t-that-it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Oh. Because that makes me feel so much better,” she spits out, before taking a deep breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We broke up ages ago.”
“I’m sorry,” she gives him a look and is slightly proud of how he seems to shrink into himself a bit. “I-I know it’s five years too late. I know I didn’t handle it as well as I should’ve. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
The thing is, Noelle always thought that maybe hearing an apology someday would make her feel better. But now that’s heard it, she’s not sure she does. 
She swallows. “I appreciate that.”
“I’ve already read it, you know.”
“Read what?”
Jeremy runs a hand through his hair. “Your book. One of my teammate’s girlfriend recommended it and I asked to borrow it. It’s fantastic,” He looks down at the book in his hand. It’s like the cover is taunting her. “I wanted my own copy.”
“Oh.” 
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For letting me off the hook with the poems I know were about me,” he scoffs, shaking his head at himself. “You could’ve written way worse.”
She can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I thought I was pretty mean.”
“Your definition of ‘pretty mean’ is tame compared to a lot of people,” he says, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the book. “You were always the kindest person, even when you shouldn’t have been..” 
He puts his hand out in her direction, the hand with the book in it. She furrows her eyebrows. “What-”
“Could I get a signed copy?”
“Jeremy. What do you want from me?”
He sighs, taking his hand back. “A chance to apologize?”
“You’ve already done that.”
“Not in the way I want to and what you deserve.”
She lets out a sigh, turning to face him fully. “I don’t know if that would be worth my time or yours. I know the book just came out, but that was five years ago. I’m over it. Forgive and forget, right?”
“But do you?” Jeremy counters back. “Clearly, you don’t forget, which I deserve. But forgive?” 
“We’re just going in circles now.”
“No we’re not,” he says firmly. “You’re just shutting me down because you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had five years to prepare what I would say to you if I saw you again. You’re telling me you haven’t?”
“Of course I have,” Noelle tips her head back. “But also, what’s the point?”
“The point, is that I still love you.”
“Fuck you,” she says in a strained voice. “You can’t just-you can’t just throw that shit out there. Fuck you.”
He bites his lip, and to her annoyance, he laughs. But she listens more carefully, and it sounds very self deprecating. “I deserved that.”
“Yeah,” Noelle looks down at her feet. “So…what? You still love me?”
“I do.”
“And what are you going to do about that?”
“What are you going to let me do?”
“I live in Brooklyn.”
“I know,” she whips her head up. Jeremy looks sheepish, which she didn’t even think was something he knew how to do. “Seth mentioned it when we caught up a bit ago. I also still follow you on Instagram.”
She tries again. “It’s been five years.”
“And I’m here sitting with you and still feel the exact same way I did back then. Even more, to be honest.” He eyes her pointedly. “Any more excuses?”
Her voice softens. “You really hurt me.”
“I know. And I’m so sorry, Noelle.”
“I hurt you too.”
He shrugs. “We were young and stupid.”
“And we’re still not?” Noelle says with a snort before swallowing. “I’m not the same person you fell in love with.”
“I’m sure I’m not either. But I don’t know if there’s a world where I don’t love every version of you.”
“Even after reading the book?”
“Especially after reading the book,” he sighs. “Noelle, I know this is unfair of me. All of this. And I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. But I always intended to. And then you’re here? And I see you twice in two days? I’d be an idiot to not try. More of an idiot than I am, anyways.”
“Try for what?”
“A second chance? To be friends? Whatever you want.” He suddenly deflates. “Even if you don’t want anything to do with me. At least I’ll know.”
“Why did you never text me?”
“I thought about it a lot,” he admits. “I tried once, actually, after the high of a really good win. But it didn’t go through. I got the message.”
“The message?”
“You blocked me, right?”
Oh. “Yeah,” she lies. “I did.” She reaches into her bag for a pen and gestures for the book, which he gives to her, a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’m in Boston for two more days, including today.”
He takes the hint immediately. Eagerly. “I have a game tonight, but I’m free tomorrow.”
“Who are you guys playing?”
“Toronto. And I’m starting. Should be a good one.”
She hums non-committedly, scribbling on the inside of the front cover. She hands it back to him with a small, close-lipped smile. She nods at him to read the message.
to my first fan, 
i still love you too. 
xxx-xxx-xxxx
yours, 
noelle
He looks up, eyes shining but a bit confused. 
“I never blocked you. I just changed my number.”
“Oh.”
“And even if I still love you, I’m still mad at you.”
“I know. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t.”
She stands up, adjusting the bag on her shoulder and putting her sunglasses on. “Text me?”
His mouth splits wide into a grin. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
She backs away with one last attempt at a smile before turning down the street.
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roseghoul26 · 1 day
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Chapter 7: My House of Stone...
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Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: sorry this took so long i got such bad writers block Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay Chapter List
When Arthur didn’t show up after a few days, you tried to not let it get to you. He was a busy man, no doubt even more busy because of the job involving your husband. You ignored the fact that he proved that he would fight everything to come and see you, consequences be damned. It was almost out of character that he hadn’t come to see you, or had reached out to you in some way.
When a few more days passed with no sign of the outlaw, you found yourself going back over your last encounter, when he had taken you out on Bear. You don’t recall any hesitancy or doubt in his eyes when he was with you, or maybe you were too blind with your own desire to see it. That thought made you reel, panicking that you made him uncomfortable and scared him off. 
But you didn’t let that thought fester for too long. You spent your days doing menial tasks with no real passion, trying to just pass the time. It worked, mostly, but you were getting antsy. How you wished you had an easy way to leave the prison that had become the house. 
Even more days passed, each day becoming more and more anxiety ridden. Instead of worrying that you’d scared him off now, you were worried that he was dead, or in shackles, about to be hung up in the town square. Your nights were becoming restless, images of his dead body haunting you when you closed your eyes. You’d wake with bloodshot eyes, even more tired than you were when you went to bed. 
You eventually stopped counting the days, not wanting to know how long he’d been gone for. You tried to spend more and more time outside of the house, bringing blankets and books from Hans’ office to your garden, waiting to escape the confinement of the walls around you. It helped, for a bit, yet you still found your mind wandering, constantly worrying about Arthur. 
But no matter how hard you tried, you found that you couldn’t hate the man. Upset, sure, angry, definitely, but not hateful. No, your heart wouldn’t allow it. You were still in love with him, and the lack of contact from him was hurting you, both physically and mentally. It was hard to eat, hard to sleep, hard to find it in yourself to take care of your body. You knew it was ridiculous, but you couldn’t help it. He had wormed his way into your very being, and left a hole that couldn’t be fixed. You just hoped that he’d return soon and make you feel whole again. 
It was during this time that you decided to draft a letter to your family, hoping that it would alleviate the loneliness that was once removed by Arthur. You sat in Hans’ office, pen shaking in your hand as you stared at the blank piece of paper in front of you, the task proving to be more difficult than you imagined. It had been two years since you’d last spoken to them, and you had no idea what to say. How much was too much? How honest was too honest?
You decided to keep it simple, and you began to write. It took a few tries, but you eventually produced a letter that you were satisfied with. 
My dear family, 
I have missed you all, incredibly so. Words don’t even begin to do it justice. I apologize for not reaching out earlier, but my circumstances wouldn’t allow it. I do so hope to hear back from you, and perhaps have the pleasure of seeing each other in the flesh soon. 
Your daughter,
You finished it with your name, but just your first name. Tucking it into an envelope, you addressed it with the address Arthur had provided you, and you swallowed the lump in your throat when you saw Arthur’s handwriting, rereading the note he left you.
Making sure to leave the office as you found it, you made your way downstairs, setting the letter on the kitchen table, ready to grab for whenever you decided to go into town. You spent a few days at home after writing the letter, hoping that one night you’d hear the familiar hoofbeats of Bear, but were left disappointed each night. 
Eventually, though, you needed to leave, if just for a short bit of time. It had been roughly three weeks since you’d last left the house, and if you had to look at the same things again you were going to snap, leaving the house as a pile of ash. So, with a small purse with some cash, you took the letter and yourself and left. 
If it weren't for your current mindset, the walk to the main road would’ve been relaxing, enjoying the noises of animals and the cool breeze against your skin. But everything is annoying you now. The wind was causing your hair to blow in your face, and if you had to hear that birdsong one more time, you were going to lose it. Or maybe you’d already lost it. 
The sun blinded you as you left the shade of the thick forest, stepping out onto the main road. You always hated doing this, but you were desperate. Slowly, you began to walk towards Rhodes, keeping a close ear for any riders. 
It took a few minutes, but you eventually heard someone approaching from behind, and you perked up, putting on your friendliest face as you stopped and turned. It was a carriage, and you began to wave them down, but they ignored you, not even bothering to glance in your direction. Rude.
Still, you kept on, not letting one bad interaction deter you. A few more carriages and wagons passed, with similar responses. Everyone looked grim, you noticed, stone-faced and somber expressions. Now you were starting to feel dejected, and you debated just heading back to the house; you weren’t that far anyway. 
Before you could come to a decision, a single rider passed you, glancing at you even though you didn’t wave him down. Something like recognition flashed across his face, even though you’d never seen this man in your life. He had longer, black-brown hair that was tied into a small ponytail, with a mustache and goatee, and a bowler hat protecting his tanned skin. He had a blue denim jacket on, with a red handkerchief around his neck, and you noted that he was surprisingly well dressed for being an alone traveler on the road. 
“Mrs. Kerrigan?” He asked, almost in disbelief, like you were a creature from folklore, pulling his gray and white horse to a halt beside you. 
You braced yourself, ready to bolt as you stared at the man. “Yes?” You asked, suspicious. It wasn’t uncommon for people to recognize who you were, but they’d never acted like they knew you personally. You dove into the deep recess of your brain trying to remember who he was, but drawing a blank; he was a stranger to you.
“What’re you doin’ out here?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned, which was a tad bit off putting from a complete stranger. Still, you couldn't detect any malicious intent in his words.
Sighing, you answered truthfully. “I’m tryin’ to get to Rhodes. You… you don’t happen to be goin’ there, do you?”
“Unfortunately, no,” he answered, truly sounding regretful, but then his face turned thoughtful. 
“Ah. No worries then. Have a good day.” 
You tried to continue moving, but his smooth voice made you halt again. “But it’s close enough. I can only bring you to the outskirts, though.”
“You’d do that?” You smiled when he nodded. “I can pay, too. Thank you, Mr…?”
“Escuella. But you can call me Javier.” He extended a hand to you, helping you on to the back of his horse. You sat sidesaddle, keeping an appropriate amount of distance between your bodies, your hands resting on his sides.
Javier. You remember Arthur telling you about someone with the same name, and although you highly doubted that this was the same Javier, you wished that he had a drawing of him. “Thank you, Javier.”
“Of course, Mrs. Kerrigan.” Javier gestured his horse forward, setting an easygoing pace; not too fast, not too slow. A small pang hit your heart as you remembered the last time you were on a horse, your body pressed up to Arthur’s, his rough voice in your ears, the playful glint in his eye. God, you missed him. 
“I’ll pay you when we get to town,” you repeated after a few minutes of riding, and you felt Javier chuckle. 
“I appreciate it, but I think Arthur would kill me.” Your blood ran cold, and your heart began to race just at the mention of him. So this was Javier, the one Arthur traveled with in the mountains to rescue John. It makes sense then, why he seemed to recognize you.
“Well, it’s nice to put a face to a name,” you commented. 
“He’s talked about me, then?”
“All good things,” you reassured, and he just shook his head, not believing you. You desperately wanted to ask him about Arthur, if he was alive or not, but you weren’t sure if any answer he gave you would hurt less. “Does… does he talk about me?”
Javier snorted. “Yes and no. He’ll talk about you, sometimes so much that we want to kill him, but then refuses to answer any of our questions. Some of us even doubted your existence,” he laughed, “but I’m glad to see that we’re wrong. You’ve made him real happy. I haven’t seen him this… optimistic in a long time.”
You were glad he was facing forward, so he couldn’t see the way those words broke you. Biting back tears, you kept your voice steady. “How is Arthur?”
“He’s fine?” He responded, very clearly confused as to why you didn’t know. “He’s been, well, ‘helping’ your husband.”
Oh. “So the names he got led to somethin’?” 
“Sure did. We were able to track down suppliers, and disrupt his business there. He’s yet to reach out for help, but Dutch doesn’t think it’ll be long now.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” You weren’t lying. “But he’s well?” You couldn’t help but ask about him again. 
“Yes. It’s been a crazy couple of days, but we’re pulling through.”
Only a couple of days. You refrained from asking what he’d gotten up to earlier, not wanting to appear desperate, even if you were. “I’m glad. And don’t make me regret saying this, but if anyone ever needs a place to lie low for a bit, point ‘em towards my house. At least when my husband isn’t there.” Even though you’d barely met any of the members, you couldn’t help but feel protective over the gang because of how deeply Arthur cared about them. If there was anything you could do to help them, you would.
“I’ll be sure to let them know. Thank you.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “Arthur was right about you; you’re too kind for this world.”
You murmured a small thanks, and the two of you fell into an easy silence for the rest of the ride. When the familiar outskirts of Rhodes appeared, you felt Javier begin to grow nervous, his head moving back and forth, like he was on the lookout for something. “We can stop here,” you said once you reached a long abandoned house, the yellow paint chipping and peeling. 
Red dust kicked up when your feet hit the ground, and you quickly took out a few bills, handing them to Javier. “Again, I can’t take this,” he held up a hand, a small smile on his face.
“I ain’t payin’ you for the ride, though. I payin’ you to deliver a message to Arthur,” you countered, but he didn’t relent. Sighing, you tucked them into the saddlebags before facing him with your hands on your hips. “Tell him to come see me. Please.”
“I’ll be sure to let him know. Do you have a ride back home?”
“I can arrange something’. Now go; you look uncomfortable just being here.”
He chuckled, not disagreeing with you. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kerrigan.”
“You too, Javier. Stay safe.”
He nodded, smiling kindly at you before turning, taking off back down the road you’d just been on. Turning toward the town, you began to make your way to the center of town, right to the post office in the railroad station.
It was eerily quiet, more like a ghost town than anything. There wasn’t a single soul lingering on the porches or the street, and the shutters of most of the buildings were shut, which was extremely unusual for the middle of the day on a weekday. There weren’t even any animals out; it was just you and the dust. 
After a few tense minutes of walking, you eventually climbed the stairs of the railroad station, the creak of the old wood almost making you jump. It was just as empty on the inside as it was outside, the other person in the building, the person behind the counter, who smiled tensely as you entered. 
“Good afternoon, missus,” he exclaimed, the chip in his voice far too forced. “Say, can’t say I’ve seen you ‘round here before.”
“You’ve probably met my husband, Mr. Kerrigan,” you responded, making your way to the counter, pulling the letter from your bag. 
“Ah yes. Well, how can I help you, Mrs. Kerrigan?”
You slid the letter across to him. “I’d like to send this, please.”
“Not a problem at all. That’ll be five cents.”
Sliding him a nickel from your bag, you looked around as he stamped the letter, putting it in the appropriate mailbox. “Is there anythin’ else I can help you with?”
“Why is it so… dead?” You glanced back at the man, who had visibly paled at your question. 
“Interesting choice of words, ma’am. Let’s just say we had an… incident yesterday. Nothing befitting a proper lady like yourself.” He explained, clearly not wanting to talk about it.
Ominous. Realizing you weren’t going to get far with him, you wished him a good day before leaving. You made your way to the general store; Mr. Banks would let you know. 
The bell chimed as you entered, and you called out for the older gentleman, and you heard the sound of crashing from the back room, clearly scaring the poor man. A disheveled Mr. Banks peeked around the corner, visibly relaxing when he saw it was just you. You opened your mouth to try and apologize, but he cut you off. “You didn't bring that ‘deputy’ with ya, did you?” He asked, growing tense again.
“Arthur? No, he’s not with me.”
“Good. I’ll kill him on sight if he even dares to step foot in Rhodes again. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
Physically, no. “Mr. Banks, what in the world-”
“Him and his buddies shot up the town yesterday. Killed the good Leigh Gray, Lord bless his soul,” he shuddered, and you halted in your tracks, your somewhat amused smile at his ramblings falling. 
“What?”
He pointed to a newspaper on the counter, and you cautiously stepped toward it. Bloodthirsty Gang Kills Dozens was the headline, a few paragraphs of text following below it. Your head spun at the new information, blocking out the words of Mr. Banks. You couldn’t gauge what you were feeling; you weren’t disgusted, or revolted, even though you knew you should be. You weren’t surprised; you knew that Arthur had done things, unspeakable things, and would continue to do so. You weren’t angry at what he did, but you were angry at him for putting himself in harm’s way like that. 
“I’ll take the paper,” you cut Mr. Banks off, sliding him a few bills, and he slid the paper to you. You barely mumbled out a ‘good day’ before you left, nose deep in the paper as you headed back to the railroad station, sitting on the bench waiting for the carriage services, and you read as you waited. 
You read all about the way the gang played both families, something you had no idea was happening. You weren’t hurt that he didn’t tell you; you knew that some things had to remain secrets. But you didn’t care much about the detail, eyes scanning for any telling of death or injury to the Van Der Linde gang. You knew that Javier probably didn’t lie to you, but you still needed to be sure. 
Your heart dropped when you saw that there was indeed one confirmed killing of a member of the Van Der Linde gang, but you didn’t recognize the description they provided. The others, it seemed, were still at large, and unhurt. Knowing how deeply Arthur cared about each member of the gang, you knew that this death was probably weighing heavily on him. If only he would come and see you, just so you could help him.
The sound of a carriage approaching had you standing, tucking the paper under your arm. Getting in, you directed the driver to your house, and you quickie got lulled into the rocking rhythm of the vehicle. You ignored the paper under your arm, even though it felt like a million pounds.
The ride felt like forever, but eventually you pulled into the familiar forested area of Ringneck Creek. The driver helped you out, and after you paid him you headed inside, feeling like you were just going through the motions. Despite everything you’d learned, there was one thing that really bothered you. The shootout had only been yesterday; what had stopped him from seeing you during the previous three weeks?
Even though it wasn’t late, you found yourself getting ready for bed anyway, keeping the paper on the table downstairs and grabbing a book from Hans' office before curling beneath the sheets. Your eyes skimmed the words, not processing them, your brain too distracted by today’s events.
You weren’t quite sure how you “read” for, but you must’ve fallen asleep at some point. A loud noise, like a door being slammed, had you bolting upright, pulled out of your uneasy slumber, the book luckily not hitting the ground. When you didn’t hear anything for a few moments, you thought you had just imagined it, and you went to try and go back to bed. 
That was until you heard the sound of heavy footfalls. Shit. Tearing off the covers, you padded lightly across the wooden floor, wishing that Hans wasn’t so opposed to keeping guns in the house. You had nothing to defend yourself with, so kept to the shadows as you left the room. 
Reaching the top of the stairs, you flinched when you saw the shadow of a man making its way toward the stairs. You began to back away, back into the safety of your room, until you recognized the familiar silhouette of the man. Don’t tell me…
Cautiously, you made your way downstairs, barely making a noise. You had to stifle a gasp once you reached the bottom, your suspicions confirmed when you saw Arthur standing in your dining room, back to you, glancing over the newspaper you’d set on the table. His hair was longer, his clothing unkempt, but it was still the same man you had fallen for.
Too many emotions ran through you, from anger to longing to desire to sadness. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to kiss him or punch him in the face, and so you just stood at the bottom of the stairs, shocked. 
Eventually, Arthur turned, the only sign of him being startled was his eyes widening. Those beautiful blue eyes that had haunted your thoughts, that you longed to see again. You let out a small gasp then, audible only to you. It was really hard to remain still, every fiber of your being craving to be in his arms again, to feel his lips on yours. 
Neither of you knew what to say, just staring at each other. Even in the low light, you could see that Arthur looked exhausted, bags under his eyes and his shoulders sagging. Being on the run would do that to a man. “So Javier wasn’t kiddin’. You’re alive.” You didn’t care that your voice was scathing. 
Javier must’ve said something to him, because Arthur didn’t seem surprised that you mentioned the other man. If you ever met him again, you’d have to thank him for sticking to his word about delivering a message. “I…” he rubbed at the back of his neck, “I’ll leave.” Oh, how you missed his rugged voice. 
Arthur turned to head back out the front door. “Stay. Please.” You called out, making your voice softer, stopping him in his tracks. Don’t leave me again. 
He took a deep breath before turning back around, somethin like guilt on his features. “It’s been three weeks, Arthur.” You sighed out.
“I know, darlin’.” You nearly broke then, his name for you crumbling your resolve. Yet you held, fingers gripping the railing with a death grip. “There was an… incident-”
“The shootout in town,” you cut him off. “Don’t sugarcoat things. I know what you get up to. I know the things you’ve done.”
Arthur didn’t bother to try to disagree, and you were thankful for that. “After the shootout in Rhodes, I couldn’t risk comin’ over to see ya’.”
“I understand, but that was only a few days ago. Arthur, it's been three weeks.” You didn’t bother to hide the pain in your voice. “I’ve missed you.”
“Me too.”
“Then where’ve you been?” He didn’t respond, and you laughed bitterly. “I thought you were dead, Arthur. Or you were about to be strung up in the gallows. Or you… I was worried sick, and the only reason I knew you weren’t dead was because Javier told me.”
“I’m sorry-”
“I don’t want your apology, I want an explanation.” You let go of the railing. “Why?” Arthur hung his head, and you began to step towards him. 
“You deserve somethin’ better, darlin’.”
“And you thought the best thing for me was to leave me alone and heartbroken. And who is this ‘someone better’ I deserve? Hans? No, I don’t think so.”
“I ain’t much better! You said it yourself, you know the things I’ve done. I’ve killed people, so many I’ve lost track. Hell, I was the one who killed Sheriff Gray. My whole life I’ve tricked and duped and betrayed people; I ain’t a good man’. You’re too sweet, too kind. You deserve somethin’ better than that, than me.”
“You think I didn’t know that you’ve hurt people, Arthur? You didn’t think when you said you were an outlaw that I wouldn’t, I don’t know, realize you’ve done some unlawful things? I know what kind of man you are, and who you claim to be, yet when I think of you I think of a man that is also good, generous, sweet.” You continued to move towards him, even as he shook his head. 
“A man that would come check up on a sad woman in the woods just ‘cause she asked, that would find her family’s address so she could write to them.” You were close enough to him that you could reach out and touch him.
“A man that’s made my miserable existence feel worthwhile, that has become the best goddamn part of my life.” His hands were shaking, you found when you took one of them in both of yours. Those familiar calloused fingers were oh so comforting, and you brought them close to your heart.
You took a deep breath. “A man that I’ve completely fallen in love with.”
His hands stopped shaking, or maybe yours were. You couldn’t tell. 
Arthur was speechless, but you could tell that he didn’t oppose your confession, because he pulled you closer. His free hand cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek. “You shouldn’t…”
“Too late now, Arthur.” You breathed out. “I… I love you.”
“You shouldn’t.” He repeated again with more edge, but you could see how conflicted he was. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from it.”
“How can you be so certain?” 
“Because every damn good thing in my life gets ruined. Every person I lo- care ‘bout, I make their lives worse, and they regret ever openin’ their hearts to me. Did ya know I almost married a girl, then I ruined that. I- I had a kid,” his voice grew thick with emotion, “and he’s no longer with us. All because of me, and the life I lead. All because wherever I go, someone’ll be huntin’ down the people I care about, no matter how innocent they are. I couldn’t live with myself if somethin’ happened to you ‘cause of me.”
Oh. You were speechless now, and your heart ached for the man in front of you. “Arthur… I can’t guarantee that somethin’ won’t happen to me, but do you really wanna live your life in fear, pushing away those who care about you?”
“I can’t lose you, darlin’. I can’t.” 
“But you almost did, pushin’ me away like that. What then?”
“I…” he took a shaky breath, his hand sliding down to hold the side of your neck gently. “I don’t know.”
“So don’t push me away. Yes, it’s terrifying, caring about someone like this. You don’t think I worry ‘bout you every time you’re not here? That I don’t worry that we’ll be found out, and this whole thing will come burning down around us? But isn’t it worth it? ”
He sighed, before resting his head against yours, his hat sliding back a bit. “It is.”
“Then mean it. To yourself. To me.” His lips were so close now, and you wanted nothing more than to close the space between them. You let go of his hand, choosing to rest your hands on his chest instead. You could feel his heart beating rapidly under your fingers, just as fast as yours was. “I love you, Arthur, and there isn’t a damn thing you can say that’ll change that.”
Arthur exhaled shakily, and even in the dim light you could see a small smile on his lips. “And I’m grateful for your stubbornness.” You chuckled lightly at his words. “I’ve been a fool-”
“None of that. You ain’t a fool, Arthur.”
“Maybe not. But I’m a fool for you.” You rolled your eyes at his cheesy comment, knees growing weak at the now grin on his face. That dazzling, beautiful grin. But his expression sobered, and you temporarily feared the worst. “You should know that I do feel the same, darlin’. I really do. It’s just, I can’t…”
“You can’t say it back,” you refrained from sounding too crestfallen. You could be content with the fact that he agreed he felt the same. For now. He shook his head, looking ashamed, and you forced his gaze back up to yours when he tried to look away. “Then show me. Show me that you love me.”
“I could spend every last minute of my life showin’ you, and it still wouldn’t be enough time,” he chuckled, his thumb brushing just below your bottom lip. His eyes followed the movement, and something darkened in them. “But I can certainly try.”
He leaned in, finally closing the distance, and you felt like you could cry with relief. His lips felt even better than you remembered, more desperate than you’d ever felt them. You dropped his hand, arms wrapping around his neck as he continued to kiss you, his hat falling to the ground as you tangled your fingers in his hair. He pulled away far too soon for your liking, the hand still holding your face brushing your cheek. “Darlin’, you’re cryin’,” he murmured, his brow creasing with concern. 
“Good tears,” you laughed, a genuine smile gracing your lips. “I just missed you, so much.”
Another flash of guilt appeared on his face. “You promise?”
“Promise.” He regarded you for a few moments, and you nearly pulled him back down yourself, desperate to feel his lips again. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait too long, because he was kissing you again, weeks of pent up longing, fear, and love being poured into it. It made you dizzy, and your fingers tangled further into his hair, eliciting a groan from the man. 
Arthur’s free hand gripped your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he kissed you. They gripped even harder when you ran your tongue against his lips, not expecting you to take control of the kiss. He willingly let his lips part, letting you explore him with ease. 
You hadn’t even realized Arthur had moved until you felt your back hit a wall, the back of your head cradled by his hand. It made you groan, breaking away from the kiss, and Arthur wasted no time trialing his lips down your neck. Your head rolled back, letting out pleased sighs and light moans as he littered kisses across your neck, his facial hair ticking the sensitive skin.
“Arthur,” you groaned, hands still in his hair, and you felt him hum in response. 
“My beautiful girl,” you heard him mutter, more to himself than anything, and you were grateful for the stability the wall provided. The hand on your waist moved down, securing under your thigh and lifting it so that your leg wrapped around him. You inadvertently began to rock your hips, eliciting another delicious groan from Arthur.
“God, Arthur, I need you.” You didn’t care if you were pleading. You’d been plenty patient; you were allowed to be greedy. 
“I’m takin’ my time with ya. We’ve got all night.”
Another groan tore from your throat. All night. “You promise?” You asked, echoing his previous words. If he was promising all night, then you could be patient for a little while longer.
You felt him grin against your skin, nipping lightly at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “Promise.”
Author's Note: surprise javier appearance bam!
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ollieoxyde · 2 days
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Making of Siffrin model!
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If anyone wanted to know how exactly I made this model I will lay it out in detail here! Although this way my first time making something like this so I’m not an expert.
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The base is polymer clay (super sculpey I think) with a wire armature shoved in there just in case I drop him. The buttons for the cloak and the dagger are also clay. I used a sewing pin to get a very small hole for the buttons to be threaded through.
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After baking, I put base coats of black and white with acrylic paint. If the brush strokes for the white paint are very visible, water it down and do multiple layers until it’s opaque.
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After the base coat I moved on to smaller details like the face and boot heels, as well as shadows and highlights. It took me a few tries to get the face right, the one shown above isn’t the final.
It’s also a very good idea to varnish it, especially for the buttons or paint will rub off when passing them through the buttonholes. DuraClear is pretty cheap and works well. A few coats ultra-matte over the whole thing, then gloss to areas that should be shiny (eye, boots, gloves, buttons, dagger blade).
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The eyepatch is just a tiny piece of black felt and some embroidery thread Elmer’s glued to the face.
The hair I was going to needle felt, but my white wool(left) was slightly yellowed and it looks weird in context. I ended up using a piece of cotton(right) from my bottle of melatonin*, shaping the ends into tufts with Elmer’s glue, letting it dry, then attaching it to the head. For the dyed parts I used watered down acrylics. I worked drop the hairline inwards, then smoothed it out with loose bits of cotton and glue.
I am a bit worried the glue will end up yellowing in time, we’ll have to see.
*their hair does smell faintly of strawberries because of this. Also a cotton ball would work functionally the same.
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For the clothes patterns I mostly just winged it, checking if it fit on the model until I got something I liked before cutting the pieces out of white and light gray felt. I did go a little off-model for the cloak because it needed to be removable.
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I attached the cloak lining with a backstitch, and the collar with a whipstitch. The buttonholes I cut with scissors and whipstitched the heck out of the edges after making sure they were big enough. I had made sure the holes in the buttons were big enough to thread a needle through when I made them so I could easily attach them.
The hat brim pieces I whipstitched together while they lay flat on top of each other very close to the edge of the fabric. I did the same with the pointy part, but also flipped it inside out afterwards. I used a running stitch along the edge to attach the top and bottom brim, and a backstitch with the pretty side on top to attach pointy piece while kind of folding it so the edge lays flat against the brim.
The last step was to use very watered down acrylics to make it look weathered.
And that’s it! Not sure if anyone really wanted this, but I figure it doesn’t hurt.
I’m happy to answer any questions!
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lunerna21 · 20 hours
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Okay so now that I’ve finished White Rabbit Fest, I NEED TO TALK ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVED THIS EVENT
***Slightly long post ahead just forewarning you lol***
WHEN I WAS ABLE TO MEET DEUCE’S MOM DYLLA, I WAS FREAKING OUT LIKE MOTHER LIKE SON AND THEY ARE SO GODDAMN SIMILIAR
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THEIR SMILES!? MANNERISMS!? EVERYTHING AND ITS SO STINKIN CUTE!!
AND THE OUTFITS?! SO CUTE! I WAS IN LOVE WITH EVERYONES COSTUMES
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And when Deuce came out in his outfit 😭❤️ He looked so good but it was so cute seeing him all embarrassed (kinda reminded me of Idia in the ending of Book 6 😂)
And when Dylla mentioned about how Deuce speaks so often about US AND ACE
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MY HEART COULDNT TAKE IT I HAD TO WALK AWAY WITHOUT WANTING TO FALL INTO A PUDDLE OF HAPPINESS IT WAS TOO MUCH
I WOULD DIE TO SEE DEUCE SPEAKING ABOUT US AND OUR FRIENDSHIP BUT YET THE THREE OF THEM JUST CAN'T ADMIT HOW MUCH WE LOVE EACH OTHER AHHHHHH
THERE WERE SO MUCH MORE INTERACTIONS WITH EVERYONE THAN IN THE PAST BUT I JUST LOVED THE BANTER BETWEEN EVERYONE (and of course everyone dealing with Grim and his endless stomach lol)
And YALLLLLL when this scene came up 😭
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AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ITS TOO MUCH I LOVE THOSE THREE LITTLE SHITS SO MUCH
BUT THE BEST PART FOR ME WAS SEEING DYLLA BEING SO PROUD OF HER SON AND DEUCE STICKING UP FOR HIS MOTHER AND SHOWING HOW MUCH HE'S CHANGED FROM ATTENDING SCHOOL
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.....couldn't tell you how badly I was sobbing happy tears it's just beautiful I can't even express how happy this whole event made me feel
For some reason I didn't watch Deuce's vignette when it released for the JPN server but OH MY GOD I WAS NOT DISAPPOINTED IN THE SLIGHTEST
(Also I totally didn’t squeal like a fangirl when we went to walk with Deuce ALONE but we’re not gonna talk about that 😇)
I felt so bad that Deuce had to keep reliving his past mistakes including how some of the townspeople treated him instead of moving on from the past
AND WHEN THEY SAID THIS ABOUT HIM!!
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I WOULDVE LAUNCHED MYSELF AT THEM SO QUICKLY LIKE HOW FREAKIN DARE YOU SAY THAT ABOUT MY BOY DEUCEY (even though yes him AND TWO OTHER LITTLE SHITS also contribute in most antics as well)
And when Deuce said this shit I needed a moment to pause and cry into my pillow 😭
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AHHHHH NO DON'T SAY THAT I WANTED TO LAUNCH MYSELF OUT THE WINDOW I HATE HOW MUCH HE DOUBTS HIS GROWTH FROM THE BEGINNING (*cough* *cough* and how he got his unique magic BEFORE ACE I LOVE THAT)
But THANK GOD after Deuce was being a complete sweetheart and helping the people out he started to acknowledge his growth!!
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LIKE HELL YES DEUCE SPADE, YOU HAVE GROWN SO GODDAMN MUCH AND I WISH YOU WOULD CONTINUE TO FEEL THAT WAY
I can't empathize how much I love Deuce and its just so satisfying and amazing to see a noticeable different from when we first met him and I cannot wait to see him kick ass in Book 7+8
AND FINALLY THIS JUST SENT ME BACK TO HIS PROMISE FROM WISH UPON A STAR!!! IT WAS TOO MUCH MY HEART-!!
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.............Okay now that I've spoken my piece, this event is without a doubt a 100000/10 because of how wholesome this event was and seeing Deuce just being an absolute angel
Now I'm preparing myself for who knows how long till we meet up with Deuce or Ace again in Book 7...💀😔
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teaboot · 17 days
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This is gonna sound rather conceited but I feel like it highlights an issue we have in Art.
I'm good at art. I've never had a hard time making art. I started using crayons before I could walk. Painting, Beadwork, sculpture, sketching, stippling, whatever- once I have a feel for the material, it doesn't take long to start doing what I want with it. It's been a common theme my whole life.
(Y contrast I'm awful at things like dancing, performance, sports, etc- in all things there is balance, right?)
Now, I've taught myself to use so many artistic mediums now that I KNOW how to most efficiently integrate them into the brain database. Once you really *understand* a material, it's much like memorizing the layout of your house, or flexing a muscle, or something in-between- it becomes PART of your brain in a way I cant quite articulate. But to get there involves just fucking around for a bit doing nothing in particular.
And I've found, especially in group settings, that nobody seems to be able to see you make something badly and leave you alone. Even if you say you're fine, you don't want help, you're happy, you're having fun, it's fine, they gotta ride your ass and hover.
I was at a class the other day for something I hadn't done before. The medium was one I've never used, so once the instructor told us the basics I started experimenting with weight, gravity, texture, viscosity, saturation, temperature, etc. The instructor had given enough info to know what was dangerous and what was safe, and beyond that I just wanted to absorb what I could about it.
And no insult to the instructor, but they kept checking in. Which was fine the first few times.
But then, without asking me what I was trying to do, started giving tips. That I told them I was grateful for but didn't really need just yet. If I had a question, I'd ask.
But they kept coming over. And touching my shit. And manipulating my project. And touching my hands. And using my tools. Without fucking asking.
And this happens every time. EVERY TIME. And by now I know the best way to get them to fuck off is to make something way beyond their expectations so they know I'm capable, then go back to doing what I want.
So I did. I wanted to keep having fun and learning, but instead I made something beautiful that I really didn't want to make, and wasted my time, and really didn't learn what I wanted to learn at all. I knew the formula to create a beautiful thing, so I followed that formula the same way I have a hundred times before, and didn't get to try anything spontaneous or ugly or exciting, just so I could be left alone.
And I know when I was a kid, I was aware aware people saw me puttering alone on something ugly assumed I had a special issue and treated me like I was stupid because of that. (I was neurodivergent.) And at at time I knew that I could do a neat trick for them like a trained pony and they'd go, "Oh, surely they aren't defective if they can do something like that!" And piss off.
But what if I hadn't known how to do that?
What if I hadn't been talented, or "special"?
What if I'd been just any other average kid trying to learn, and I couldn't pop something pretty out of my ass to get them off my back?
My problem my whole life has been that I haven't been allowed to make anything ugly in peace. I'm capable of beauty, so I have to make beauty, or get stepped on. And once people see what I can do, they get loud about it. "Look at this! Look what they did! We all know who the best is, don't we?". And that used to feel good, but it's tiring.
And how many people like me just wanted to play? Just wanted to have fun and experiment? Who were having fun with no goal in mind, or just took longer to learn, who gave up because of all the obnoxious helpers breathing down their neck with no way to shake them off?
How many of us are made to feel defective because we aren't doing things beautifully?
I have a lovely piece of art I didn't want to make.
I think I'm gonna frame it.*
(*I think I'm gonna burn it in my yard.)
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navybrat817 · 4 months
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Why isn't Bucky waking me up to have his way with me?
I wish I had the answer, nonnie!
Slip Inside
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky can't resist having you when he comes home.
Word Count: Over 1.5k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, somnophilia (at first), established relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), lovesick and needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I can't send Bucky, but here you lovelies go! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. He almost called to let you know he’d be back a day early, but it was late and he didn't want to disturb your slumber. Imagining the happy look in your eyes when you woke up beside him brought a smile to his face. Being loved by you was something he still couldn't believe was real some days, but he knew in the depths of his soul that you would always be his girl.
“Welcome home,” he whispered to himself when he saw you in bed, a sight for sore eyes.
He kept his gaze on you as he undressed, careful not to make any noise. You had an arm draped over the pillow next to you, the one he usually rested his head on. His heart raced as he took a step closer and gently pulled the blanket away, your body barely covered by the shirt he recently bought for you. Shivering slightly, you tried to curl in on yourself, but stilled quickly.
Like you knew he was watching you.
“I love you,” he breathed into the room.
You replied with a moan and rubbed your hand against the pillow.
You were beautiful when you slept. If you asked him, you were gorgeous all the time. A breathless kind of vision that he grew to appreciate more and more each day. But you weren't like a piece of art for him to just admire. You were the type of beauty meant to be appreciated.
And he gladly did so with his hands, mouth, and cock.
Oh, he loved you. Fuck, he needed you, too. It was an ache. A hunger. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter as long as he had you. And you were understanding enough to let him take what he needed.
“Mine,” he whispered.
Bucky quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bed and spoon you from behind. Your steady breathing grounded him in a sense while awakening the beast he kept at bay. The one that wanted to come out and play. One that needed to bury himself deep and keep you full.
If you were awake, he would've turned your head to kiss you nice and slow, unrushed even with the mounting desperation. Instead he rubbed his nose and scruffy chin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinctly sweet scent of you while wanting to leave his claim. That no one else could touch or have you. That you were his.
“You're mine,” he growled lowly.
Rubbing the inside of your thigh once he pushed your shirt up enough, he heard your breathing hitch. He wasn't ready for you to wake up just yet, but it didn't keep him moving his hand higher and grasping the elastic of your underwear. He debated tearing the offending fabric off, but he couldn't fault you for wearing them.
You didn't know he'd come home tonight.
He also thought about touching you through your panties to feel you squirm under his touch. Your whines and whimpers always made his cock twitch, especially when you soaked the fabric. Sometimes he liked to shove them in your mouth so you could taste yourself and know he was the one who did that to you.
Only him.
He brushed his lips along your skin as he pulled it down, almost wishing he was in front of you so he could look down and see your exposed pussy. “Mine,” he whispered again as his fingers parted your folds and skimmed over your clit.
You moved back against him with a sigh, enticing him without even trying. Alternating between teasing the bundle of nerves and your slit, he felt his own breathing get heavier and harsh with each passing second. By the time he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices away, his cock was hard and heavy with the need to sink into your dripping cunt. He grunted as your flavor exploded on his tongue. He was done with foreplay.
And with how you panted and writhed, you were ready for him.
He hooked your leg over his thick thigh to open you up, hoping it wouldn't hurt when you stretched around him. “I love you,” he said once more as he brushed the tip of his cock against your hole, sighing as he slowly filled you up.
He had to close his eyes and hide his face in your neck to keep from losing it. He could go for hours when he wanted to, but the feel of your warm wetness gripping him like a vice was almost too much. Finishing quickly or not didn't matter. You’d take it as a compliment if your sweet cunt made him empty himself inside you so fast.
But he had to make it last and make you come first.
With a deep breath, he got himself under control. You let out the sweetest whine when he almost pulled out completely and shoved himself back in. Curled around you, all you could do was take his deep thrusts. He could've breathed through his nose and tried to stay quiet. He could’ve gone slow and steady. But he moaned and nipped at your skin, not wanting to hide his desire for you.
He couldn't see your face, but he felt you roll your hips back as you began to stir and heard another whine escape. You weren't completely awake, but your body craved what he was doing to you. It was enough for him to roll you on your stomach and quicken his pace.
“Bucky?” You mumbled.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't resist. Your pussy’s too good,” he groaned, putting a hand to the back of your neck to hold you still. “I need you. Need to feel you come on my cock.”
You fluttered around him as he stretched over your back, forcing you to take every inch of him. Your body went pliant as you let out a tired and needy moan. If you wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him to do so. “Please,” you whined as he practically rutted into you.
“I got you,” he grunted, driving harder into you as your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Might need to keep my cock in you all night.”
You trembled, both of you knowing you’d lay there and let him fuck you all night if he asked. You were so good for him. And greedy. It would be wrong of him not to give you what you longed for.
“And you'll let me fill you up, won't you? Of course, you will,” he panted against your ear. You tried to arch your back, but his massive frame overpowered you. “It’s okay. Just take it. Let me have you.”
Fucking you raw was a gift he’d selfishly continue to ask for and take. But how could he not? You always let out the prettiest sounds when he flooded your holes.
He couldn't stop himself from shoving his hand between the mattress and your body, seeking out your clit to tip you over the edge. Moans poured from you as he lightly pinched it, giving you the push you needed. “That’s it. Come on my cock. My cock. My good girl,” he encouraged as you clamped around him hard enough for him to lose his breath.
You nearly cried as he took you apart. “Bu… Bucky…”
“Trembling around my cock. Greedy girl,” he moaned, his hips snapping faster as he brought his mouth back to your ear. “My turn.”
He let out a deep groan as he stilled, filling you. His release hit him so hard his head spun, muttering his love for and possession of you as his eyes fluttered. You let out a broken moan as you clenched around him again and he had to keep from collapsing against you, both of you fighting for air.
“Love you,” he mumbled, wanting you to hear it now that you were awake.
He only pulled out so he could move you to your back and desperately kiss your lips the way he needed to, pushing himself back inside your leaking hole with a hum. Your eyes were half-lidded when he broke the kiss. Your gaze made him want to ruin you all over again.
“Love you, too,” you croaked, your back bowing when he groped your breast through the shirt. “Welcome home.”
Bucky’s heart pounded as he leaned down to kiss you again. It was a dance of tongue and teeth, dizzying and passionate. Some days you were the fire and others you were the fuel. You accepted the entirety of him and he welcomed everything you selflessly gave him in return.
“Good to be home, baby,” he smirked, brushing his thumb along your covered nipple. “Now stay awake. I need to fill you up at least two more times before the sun comes up.”
Even after that, he wasn't close to being done with you. But he was whole because he was home with you. And that would always be enough.
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We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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theostrophywife · 4 months
Text
green with envy.
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pairing: theodore nott x reader.
request: omg i need more of theo x reader with a hint of flirty draco
song inspiration: jealous by nick jonas.
author's note: ask and you shall receive. here's draco scheming to make theo jealous, which we all know won't end well. happy new year's my loves. we're staring 2024 off with a bang 😉
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“Merlin, they can’t possibly be serious.” Draco muttered in disbelief. “Those two truly aren’t fooling anyone.”
Blaise glanced up from his book, searching for the cause of Malfoy’s offense. The Three Broomsticks was packed, but it wasn’t hard to spot the reason for his friend’s griping. Tucked into a secluded corner of the tavern, you and Theo gravitated towards each other like magnets, leaning into one another, foreheads pressed together, talking and laughing like you were the only people in the world. 
It had been this way ever since Blaise could remember.
As always, Theo wore that stupid love-struck expression on his face as he listened to you talk, chuckling softly as you waved your arms around animatedly. You, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to the pining and yearning coming from Nott’s end. Anyone with an ounce of common sense could see that Theo was clearly in love with you, yet you remained blind to his affections. 
“They’ve made it very clear that they’re just friends,” Blaise replied, repeating the same tired words that you and Theodore declared over and over again over the course of your friendship.
“And you believe them?” 
“Of course not.” Blaise affirmed as he flipped through the pages of his book once more. “But who am I to burst their blissful bubble of ignorance?” 
“They’re clearly in denial,” Draco remarked, watching intently as you picked a nonexistent piece of lint off of Theo’s quidditch sweater. “It’s been seven years of this pathetic teetering between will they or won’t they territory. I can’t stomach another day of it, Blaise. Someone needs to do something.” 
“Whatever half-arsed plan you’ve cooked up in that ferret brain of yours, I want no part in it.” 
Draco tapped his fingers against the wooden table, a familiar smirk curving at his lips. Blaise sighed in exasperation. He knew that look. He hated that look. It usually meant that Malfoy was hatching a scheme that spelled nothing but trouble for Blaise. 
“I’m serious, Draco.” Blaise said in a stern voice.
“So am I,” the blonde replied. “Those two need a push and I’m more than willing to provide it for them.” 
“I already know that I’m going to regret asking, but what exactly are you planning?” 
Draco smirked. Blaise swore to Salazar that there was an evil gleam in his friend’s eyes as he turned over to face him. “I’m going to flirt with Y/N.” 
“Are you mental?” Blaise exclaimed. “Nott will send you to an early grave. Did you see what he did to Pucey for trying to chat Y/N up? Poor bastard had to eat his meals through a straw for weeks.”
“Then I guess it’s your job to prevent that from happening, Zabini.” 
There were a million protests on Blaise’s lips. Everyone knew that Theo was overprotective of his best friend. It was an unspoken rule that you were off-limits and Blaise had seen first hand the consequences that befell anyone that dared to hit on you. It usually ended with someone in the infirmary and that someone was never Theo. 
Draco was well aware of this fact as well, but he seemed to have a death wish. Before Blaise could stop him, Malfoy scooped two glasses of butterbeer from the counter and made his way over to you just as Theo excused himself for a smoke. You looked up just as Draco slipped into the booth, sliding beside you to take up the vacant spot your best friend left. 
“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N.” 
“Hi, Dray.” You greeted the blonde with a smile. “I didn’t know you were here, too.” 
“How could you?” He drawled playfully. “Theodore seems content keeping you all to himself.” 
You rolled your eyes fondly. “You could’ve easily just come over to join us.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing, darling.” Draco set a mug of ice cold butterbeer down in front of you. “And I brought your favorite.” 
“How sweet of you.” You beamed, totally unaware of his schemes as you clinked your glass against his. “Cheers, Draco.” 
“Cheers, Y/N.” 
The sweetness of the butterbeer lingered on your tongue and the foam rested on your upper lip as you savored the taste. Your tongue peeked out, trying to lick the remnants away. Silver eyes flashed mischievously as he clocked the action, a smirk curling against his lips. 
“Here, let me.” Draco brushed his thumb over your upper lip, wiping away the foam with ease. His fingers were soft and featherlight and nothing like the calloused feel of Theo’s hands. 
Your best friend had a bad habit of burning his fingertips from the countless blunts and cigarettes he smoked. Despite the fact that you offered to heal them with magic, Theo always refused. He said it made him more manly. Though you rolled your eyes at him, you found that you didn’t really mind his scars and calluses. It only made him that much more endearing. Why you were thinking of Theo while another man was touching you, you had no idea. Or perhaps you did and you were just in deep, deep denial about it. 
“Have I lost you, love?” 
With a blink, you found yourself staring back at Malfoy. “Sorry, Draco. What were you saying?” 
“I asked if you were using a new shampoo,” said your friend. He twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers, using the ends to tickle your cheek. “Your hair smells divine.” 
You paused, narrowing your eyes at Draco. “What are you doing, Dray?” 
“I’m not doing anything.” 
“You’re up to something.” 
That much was obvious to you. Years of friendship told you just as much. Draco was currently plotting something. Before you could question him further, a shadow loomed over the both of you. When Theo had left for his smoke break, he was carefree and grinning, but now tension colored your best friend’s features. As he glared down at Draco, Theo clenched his jaw and balled his fists at his side.
“Keep your hands to yourself, Malfoy.” 
“Teddy, he was just helping me with—“ 
“Draco doesn’t need to help you with anything.” Theo’s eyes flashed with anger, the blues and greens of his irises turning stormy as his gaze dropped to the lock of hair tangled through Draco’s fingers. “What he needs is to walk away before I break his fucking jaw.” 
Draco raised his palms up. “I don’t want any trouble, Nott.” 
Despite his statement, you sensed that trouble was exactly what Draco was aiming for. Instead of walking away like he should’ve, Malfoy leaned over and kissed your cheek in parting, which only further incensed Theo. If you hadn’t grabbed hold of the end of his coat, Theo would’ve hurled himself at Draco and punched the cocky smirk off of your friend’s face. 
You tugged at Theo and placed yourself between him and Draco, watching as the blonde returned to the table Blaise was currently sitting at. For good measure, he winked at the two of you as though Theo wasn’t already pissed enough as it was. 
“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Theo’s gaze flickered back to you, his eyes darkening as they met yours. 
“Why the fuck are you letting him touch you like that?” 
The bite in his voice puzzled you. Theo never snapped at you, so you weren’t quite sure how to react. He almost sounded…jealous. Not that Theo had any reason to be. Right?
“What are you on about? Draco was literally just wiping the foam off of my mouth. It’s not a big deal.” 
Downplaying the interaction seemed to rile Theo up even further. “Yes it fucking is,” he gritted out. “He’s flirting with you, Y/N. How can you not see that?” 
The accusation of Draco Malfoy flirting with you was entirely laughable. Though you were accustomed to Theo’s overzealous tendencies, you usually didn’t mind his overprotectiveness since it deterred creepy guys from making advances towards you. But this was Draco, for Godric’s sake. You’ve known each other since you were in diapers. There was no way in hell he was actually trying to make a move on you. 
“You’re being ridiculous, Teddy. Malfoy was not flirting with me.” 
“Of course he was! Did you not see the way he looked at you? The bloody git was all over you, playing with your hair, touching your lips. I should his bash his fucking head in for even glancing in your direction.“ 
The rest of Theo’s rant was incoherent, a mixture between English and Italian curses that drew the attention of those around you. With a grimace, you tugged Theo towards the back of the Three Broomsticks. He continued swearing as you led him away, dead eyes filled with fury as you ushered him into the bathroom. 
There was a murderous expression on his face as he spewed threats and curses. You locked the door behind you, sighing as you surveyed the angry boy before you. Knowing Theo, his constant ranting would only fuel the fire of his anger. You needed to calm him down before he made good on his promise to pummel Draco into the ground. 
Unfortunately, Theo had already worked himself up to a fit. A frown was evident on his face, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists, the veins on his forearms protruding as violence threatened to spill over. You said his name a few times, but he didn’t seem to hear you. He was too angry to take notice. 
While dealing with an angry Theo was by no means a new occurrence for you, it seemed harder to pull him out of it this time. You had never seen him this furious. A small part of you was mad at his overreaction, but another part of you was oddly flattered that he cared so much. 
Perhaps it was foolish to do so, but you relished in the fact that such a small action could elicit such a response from him. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve surmised that Theo was acting out of jealousy. His possessive behavior had always given you a strange sort of thrill. It made you feel wanted, it made you feel desired, and that in itself was more dangerous than any drug. 
“Theodore.” 
Theo paced back and forth, contemplating acts of violence against one of his oldest and closest friends.
“Theo.” 
He wondered how much trouble he’d get into for beating Draco into a bloody pulp. Would they suspend him? Theo reckoned it would be worth it. 
“Teddy.” 
The sight of Draco brushing foam off of your lips flashed through his mind again, playing on a torturous loop. Malfoy didn’t get to touch you like that. No one got to touch you like that. At least not without Theo breaking every bone in their hand. 
“Oh for Salazar’s fucking sake.” 
You grabbed the front of Theo’s sweater and dragged him down to your level. There was absolutely no thought process behind your actions besides stopping his rant. With your lips pressed firmly against his, you accomplished just that. Theo froze for a second, his eyes fluttering close as you kissed him. The tension left his body, his anger melting away to give room for a different sort of heat to spread through him. 
The minute his body language changed, you pulled away. Theo looked down at you, his dead eyes burning with searing passion. You felt his gaze piercing right through you. There was danger lurking within him. Like he was the predator and you were the prey. You’ve never seen him look like that before. Theo looked…feral. Theo looked hungry. 
“I’m sorry, Teddy. I was just trying to calm you down—”
You reeled back as Theo cupped your face in his hands and smashed your lips together once more. This time, there was no surprise in the kiss. There was just fervent passion, arduous desire, and mutual destruction between you. Theo didn’t kiss you like he wanted you. He kissed you like he needed you. 
As he pinned you against the wall, Theo gripped your hips and pressed his body against yours. The kisses grew sloppy and desperate, the two of you scrabbling for more. You groaned as his erection brushed against your thigh, leaving him the perfect opening to slide his tongue past the seam of your lips. You were vaguely aware of banging into the pictures on the walls, the sound of them clattering to the ground registering somewhere in the back of your mind. 
The two of you were like a tornado, knocking decor and toiletries around as you continued to sloppily make out. You were sure that you were making enough noise to alert the whole tavern. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care as Theo bit down on your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth as he set you down on the counter. One hand gripped your throat while the other slipped underneath your skirt. 
Theo dragged you closer by your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he grinded his hardness against your throbbing core. 
“Malfoy couldn’t touch you like this, bella.” The low rasp of his voice sent shivers down your spine. His hold on you was possessive and utterly fucking sexy. Heat rushed between your thighs as his fingers tightened around your throat. “Only I can touch you like this. Do you understand, dolcezza?” 
“Yes,” you answered breathlessly. “It’s you, Teddy. Only you.” 
Pleased with your response, Theo smirked as he ripped off your tights. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head when he rubbed his hand against your clothed sex. He palmed you through your panties, swearing when he felt how wet you were for him. 
“You’re fucking mine,” he growled against your ear while he slid your panties to the side and teased along your folds. Slender fingers curled inside of you, eliciting a filthy moan that echoed through the walls. “This is all for me.” 
Watercolour eyes seized the breath from your lungs. The declaration hung in the air with finality. There was no room for question or doubt. Theo was merely stating the truth.
You were his. You always have been. 
Theo withdrew his hand, fingers dripping with your arousal. He refused to break eye contact as he stuck them into his mouth, licking each digit clean. 
You whimpered, pulling him in by his belt loop. He moaned as you impatiently tugged his jeans down, palming him through his boxers. He felt big. Bigger than you’ve ever had before. 
But you wanted it. You wanted him. 
“I need you, Theo. Please.” 
“I’m yours, Y/N.” Theo panted into your mouth as you released his cock from the constraints of his boxers. “Always.” 
You swallowed thickly as you looked down at his impressive size. His cock was hard and throbbing in your hands, precum leaking from the tip. Theo was massive. You had no idea how he was going to fit. Still, the challenge thrilled you. 
Spreading your legs open, you bit your lip as Theo positioned the head of his cock at your entrance. He kissed your lips sweetly before pulling back and nuzzling his nose against yours. 
“Deep breaths, baby.” You nodded, inhaling and exhaling as he pushed the tip in. “You’re so tight. Gonna let me stretch you wide open, bella?”
Tears pricked at your eyes as he breached your walls, stretching you just between the line of pain and pleasure. “You’re so big, Theo. I don't—I don't know if it’s going to fit.” 
“We’ll make it fit, Y/N,” he promised, pushing further in and groaning as your walls hugged tightly around him. “Just like that. You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” 
Once Theo was fully sheathed inside of you, his movements stilled. He caressed your cheek and pecked your lips. “Can I move, baby?” 
“Yes,” you exhaled. 
“Good girl.” 
You fluttered at his words and Theo cursed as your walls gripped him like a vice. “Fuck, pretty pussy’s squeezing me so tight. You drive me fucking insane, you know that? I get so jealous of anyone who even looks at you.” 
“I like when you get jealous,” you admitted, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.” 
Theo flipped you over so that you were facing the mirror. As you gripped the marble countertop, he thrusted sharply inside of you and watched as your face contorted into pleasure. Whispering praises into your ear, Theo picked up the pace. He intertwined your fingers together and placed each palm against the mirror.
“Open your eyes, bella. I want you to watch while I ruin you.” 
Your eyes snapped to your reflection, taking in your flushed cheeks and mussed hair. Behind you, Theo fucked into you with a punishing pace. He groaned as he watched himself slide in and out of you, relishing at the perfect fit. It was like you were made for him. As your moans grew louder, Theo stuffed his fingers down your throat and gagged you. 
“God, fuck.” Theo hissed, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. “Harder, baby. You can take it. Let me fuck out my frustrations.” 
“You. Belong. To. Me.” 
Theo punctuated every word with a thrust, hitting the sweet spot within your walls with each rut. 
“I’m yours, Teddy.” You said breathlessly. “All yours.” 
He smiled, placing a tender kiss against your neck as his fingers slipped between your legs. Theo rubbed at your clit, urging you closer and closer to your orgasm. 
“Are you close, principessa? I can feel you squeezing me, milking me dry. Take it all, dolcezza. You’re mine, but I’m yours too.” 
“My hands are yours.” Theo squeezed your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples.
“My lips are yours.” He angled your chin towards him, claiming your mouth with open mouthed kisses.
“My cock is yours.” He drove deeper inside of you, making you arch as you cried out his name. 
Theo swallowed your moans before capturing your lips with his. “My heart is yours, too.” 
“It’s all yours, Y/N.”
Your heart squeezed at his declaration. Nothing had ever sounded more beautiful than Theo pledging every part of himself to you.  
“Oh god. Fuck, Theo. Please. I’m gonna cum.” 
“Cum for me, bella.” 
Stars dotted your vision as the orgasm rocked through your body. Theo kissed your neck, marking his territory, while you squeezed around him. The heat of his touch seared your skin as he held you. If it weren’t for his strong arms wrapped around you, you would’ve collapsed. 
“So fucking perfect,” Theo said between pants. “My beautiful girl.” 
Your name tumbled off of Theo’s lips as he came. It was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. Coming from the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. 
The two of you slid down to the floor. Theo wrapped an arm around you, cheeks red and hair disheveled. His pretty eyes fluttered open as he traced over the hickies and bruises he’d left on your body, admiring each mark gently. With his brows scrunched with concern, he brushed a thumb over the bite mark on your shoulder. 
“Was I too rough?” Theo whispered, kissing over the spot. “Did I hurt you, Y/N?”
You smiled at his gentleness, smoothing at the worry lines creasing his forehead. “No, it was perfect. God, you're fucking hot when you're jealous.” 
Theo chuckled, kissing the inside of your wrist. The playfulness in his expression faltered as concern and hesitation bled through. “Did you—I mean, fuck, did you enjoy it? I didn’t—you still want to be my friend, right?” 
“No.” 
Theo felt his heart drop down to his stomach. He’d fucked it up. The one good thing in his life and he’d fucked it up. You brushed your fingers over his cheekbones, tilting his chin so that you were face to face. 
“I want to be so much more than just your friend, Teddy.” The sigh of relief that he released made you grin. You leaned in, giving him a soft peck on the lips. “My heart is yours, too. It’s always been yours.” 
The weight of his smile made your heart ache. “Now that you know how I feel, there’s no need to be jealous anymore.” 
“Are you kidding? I’m going to be even more insufferable now. I need everyone to know that you’re mine.” 
“They already know, Teddy. We were the only ones living in denial.” 
“We made it pretty damn obvious, didn’t we?” 
“You threatened every guy who dared to even look at me.”
“Please,” Theo started, a smile tugging at his lips. “I saw the dirty looks you gave to the girls who tried to flirt with me.” 
You chuckled. “Okay, so maybe we’re both a little…”
“Possessive? Obsessed? Head over heels insane for each other?” 
“All of the above.” You declared, tugging at his hand. “Now come on, Teddy. Before someone figures out what we were really doing in here.” 
“I think they know, love.” Theo teased. “You were pretty loud.” 
“Like you weren’t loud yourself, Nott.” 
You rolled your eyes fondly as he helped you up. Theo straightened your skirt and smoothed your hair down, kissing your temple. He reached for the doorknob with one hand and linked his fingers with yours with the other. 
Fortunately, there weren’t too many people waiting for the loo. You would’ve been embarrassed to walk out together hand in hand, but Theo made sure that every set of prying eyes quickly found something else to look at. With a cheeky grin, he lifted your knuckles to his lips and placed a lingering kiss upon your skin. 
As you walked out into the main hall, a wolf-whistle rang out from one of the tables. Draco raised a toast in your direction while Blaise shook his head. 
“Can’t believe that half-arsed plan of yours actually worked,” Zabini said. 
Theo furrowed his brows. “What plan?” 
“The one where Malfoy flirts with Y/N in an attempt to make you jealous.” 
“I knew you were up to something,” you said with narrowed eyes. “What an idiotic plan.” 
“Is it idiotic if it worked?” 
Theo shook his head in disbelief. “You’re mental, Malfoy. I truly considered tearing you to pieces.” 
“You’re welcome,” Draco said with a smirk. “Clearly that jealousy was put to good use.” 
The blonde winked at you, making Theo’s fingers tighten around yours. “Oh, Teddy’s going to kill you. This time, I have no plans of stopping him.” 
Draco’s silver eyes widened as you released Theo. “Zabini? A little help here?” 
“I’d start running if I were you, Malfoy.” 
Without hesitation, Draco bolted out the door. You snickered as the blonde disappeared down the snowy street, his platinum blonde head bobbing through the crowd. To his credit, Theo gave him a proper head start. 
“I’ll be right back, dolcezza.” 
“Don’t be gone too long, Teddy.” Theo smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips. “And try not to hurt Draco too badly, yeah?” 
Despite his pout, Theo nodded as you tugged him down for a proper kiss. He smiled against your lips before peppering kisses on your nose and cheeks.
“Fine, but only because you asked nicely, principessa.” 
You smiled, watching as Theo chased after Draco. Beside you, Blaise grinned. 
“It’s about damn time.” 
With a flush, you rolled your eyes at your friend. “Oh shut it, Zabini.” 
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5K notes · View notes
yandere-daydreams · 2 months
Text
tw - dub/con, afab!reader, cockwarming, medical malpractice, nonconsensual drug use, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, and obsessive behavior.
[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]
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“It really is a shame to lose such a lovely patient.
His hand drifted from your thigh to your hip, rocking you back as you tried to squirm away from him. He was too deep, too big, and you’d been sitting on his cock for too long. Whenever you tried to shift your weight, though, the arm wrapped around your waist would tighten its hold and drag you back into place, leaving your ass slotted against his hips and your cunt struggling to clench around his base. You didn’t know how long he’d kept you like this, but it must’ve been longer than an hour, if not two, three, four. Despite your foggy senses, you could feel slick dripping down your thighs, an empty void in the pit of your stomach where pleasure should’ve been. You could remember hearing that Harper was a good doctor, but that couldn’t be right. Doctors weren’t supposed to make you feel so bad.
“I mean, I know it should be a doctor’s goal to see their patients off as happy and as healthy as can be, but—” He paused, sighed, and you could picture him rolling his eyes, feigning wistfulness as he let out an airy chuckle. “Good, obedient patients can be so rare, especially in a town like this. I’m allowed to mourn the loss of my best charge yet, aren’t I?”
You felt him twitch inside of you, and in search of a distraction, your gaze fell to the collection of papers fanned out over the desk in front of you. You knew you were supposed to be reading them, but the text seemed so impossibly small, and your last round of medication was still clouding your senses, making it hard to focus on much of anything beyond the throbbing in your core, the feeling of his cock stretching you open despite your body’s best attempts to force him out. You could recognize the phrases, signal out words like ‘unfit’ and ‘dependent’ mixed in with the rest of the benign text, but when you tried to put it all together, none of it made sense. It was all you could do to check the boxes Harper pointed to, sign your name on any dotted lines that hadn’t already been filled by his. You could only hope that, when you finished, he’d let you stand up, get off of him, go back to your cozy room with its nice, soft padded walls. You couldn’t imagine having to sleep in his office, again.
“And you’ve been so cooperative, too,” he went on, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You felt his lips against the shell of your ear, then your cheek. “Always taking your medication, always following your treatment plans, always coming to our little sessions with an open-mind – the pinnacle of an ideal patient. Honestly, sometimes I think I could tell you to stick your hand in a vat of boiling water, and you’d do it with a smile on your face. All for the sake of your recovery, of course.”
It was him moving, this time – shifting forward until your stomach was pressed against the blunt edge of his desk and he was all-but draped over you, his body pressed flush against yours. You let out a pitchy whine by way of protest, but Harper didn’t seem to notice, only humming as his hand found yours. “Almost done, little mouse. Just one more page.” He was practically cooing as he took you by the wrist, guiding your hand to the bottom of the final page. Two thick, cutting lines occupied most of the available space, his neat signature taking up the first. He brought you to the second, almost daunting in its vacancy, his index finger tapping against the back of your hand. “You remember your name, right? Can you write it for me?”
It was so hard to think, to stay awake, to try and remember a time where he hadn’t been planted so deeply inside of you. “If…” you started, only to trail off. You blinked once, then twice, and did your best to force your tongue to move. “If I do, can I go home?”
Usually, Harper hated it when you talked about the orphanage, about school, about home. You hadn’t meant to, you just wanted to go back to your room, and you moved to correct yourself, to promise that you didn’t want to be anywhere but this hospital, his hospital before he frowned and prescribed you another electrotherapy session, another dose of the small, white pills that left your thoughts blurred and your body hot. But, anything you might’ve been able to spit out died with a breathy laugh, a peck to the corner of your jaw. “Of course,” he purred, rocking his hips gently against yours. “Sign, and I’ll take you home tonight.”
For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself start to smile. Hastily, smudging the ink more than once, you scrawled your name across the brutal line, dropping the pen and going slack against Harper as soon as you were finished. There was another open-mouthed kiss to your throat, then the dip of your shoulder, and he dragged you back onto his lap with a playful squeeze to your thigh, a grin pressed into the crook of your neck. You squirmed unabashedly, now, your hands  graspingly weakly at the arms of his chair in hopes of pulling yourself to your feet, but Harper held you tight. “Where do you think you’re going, little mouse?”
“I need to— You said I could go—”
“Just give me another minute, darling.”
His cock pulsed against the walls of your cunt, and you felt something break open inside of you.
“I want to appreciate this moment before we get you to proper, brand-new home.”
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xinxiaogato · 5 months
Text
— you're dating who!?
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summary. no one believes that you’re dating the esteemed duke of the fortress of meropide. that man is only ever seen locking lips with the orifice of a teacup. however, all of that changes when you and your alleged “boyfriend” are invited to a coworker’s dinner party.
love interest. gn!reader x wriothesley.
warnings. unedited, cursing, bullying, attempted homewrecking, mentions of blood, murder, and assault (nothing crazy), slight angst, lack of communication, a bit suggestive (mentions of light bdsm).
word count. 2,187
note. happy late birthday to wriothesley! this shortfic was inspired by a scene from spy x family (iykyk). you are referred to as “reader” by the way!
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while loading up your plate with chips and french fontainian onion dip, you could sense the smugness of your colleagues from all the way across the dining room.
“i mean, we all saw this coming, didn’t we?” one of them piped up with a snarky laugh.
another obnoxiously chortled in return. “i won't forget the day reader told us who could have possibly given them those flowers.”
“right!? and i’m lady furina!”
that joke rocked their worlds to the point that one person started choking on their garlic baguette. your eyes flitted over to your friend, pauline, who was shaking with rage beside you and on the verge of strangling someone.
“why i oughta give them a piece of my mind!” caterwauled pauline, but you perched a hand on her shoulder so that she wouldn’t go ballistic—even if it was on your behalf.
“can’t really blame them,” you conceded. “if you told me you were in a relationship with the iudex of fontaine, i would need a minute.”
“are you saying it’s impossible?”
“i’m saying it’s highly unlikely.”
“hmph! a girl can dream.” pauline haughtily raised her nose into the air and crossed her arms with indignation, which tugged your lips into a small smile. you knew she had your best interests in mind. since day dot, your coworkers were constantly unleashing a tirade of vitriol against you. “anyway, where’s your boyfriend? did he get caught up with something?”
“probably,” you ascertained, taking a sip of red wine. you looked for a seat to settle at; you couldn’t let your chips go cold. “he warned me that he might not make it in time for the party. a new batch of inmates was processed for registration today, and allegedly, they’re unruly.”
her eyes widened after connecting the dots. “are they related to the famous case of the missing paintings? they finally caught the culprits!?”
you raised an eyebrow. “you didn’t know? it’s all over the steambird.”
as you and pauline were sitting down, the hostess of the party, anaïs, and her entourage strode over with purpose. one of anaïs’s minions was the first to start yapping, “well, if it isn’t reader, the person dating the wolf!”
“more like the person who cried wolf!” followed anaïs, which made the group howl like hyenas.
rolling your eyes at their sneers, you replied, “where is your husband, anaïs? don’t tell me he’s at the office ‘working overtime’ with his assistant again.”
all of anaïs’s friends practically broke their necks to look at her.
“h-how did you know about that…!?” anaïs spluttered, her cheeks flared red. “that’s… that’s my personal affairs you’re airing to everyone!”
a follower of anaïs cupped a hand to her ear and hissed, “don’t you remember? reader is friends with charlotte, a journalist for the steambird. she’s notorious for her intel gathering so that she can compete with others for the juiciest scoops!”
“hey, hey, does charlotte know anything about monsieur neuvillette’s type?” pauline whispered to which you were about to answer—only for anaïs to grab your glass of wine.
“you think you’re so high and mighty all the time…!” anaïs said in a shrill voice, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “at least i don’t pretend i’m the bitch of the lord of the fortress of meropide to get attention!”
“i think it would be better for you to channel your energy into divorcing that shitty excuse of a husband,” you corrected her, unfazed by the fact she was threateningly holding the drink above your head. “it’s not your fault that he’s a scumbag, so don’t stick around to see if he’ll change.”
something in anaïs seemed to falter at your words, but it was only for a moment. resentment got the best of her, and in the blink of an eye, red liquid was splashed onto your chest and dripping down your top, making bystanders gasp at the scene before them.
it kind of looked like you just got murdered.
“what is wrong with you!?” pauline furiously yelled after jumping up to shield you, who was still reeling from what happened. “how old are you to be acting like an immature brat!?”
as pauline and one of anaïs’s flunkies began to pull at each other’s hair, a different one pointed a finger into your face while cackling. “ha, serves you right! that outfit must have been dirt cheap anyway, so it couldn’t have been a total loss!”
“oh, you wouldn’t want your shoes ruined, right?” a second cooed, snatching them right off your feet and looking for the nearest window to chuck them out of. “don’t worry, i’ll dry them off for you!”
you got up to take them right back, but anaïs blocked your path, eyes narrowed into slits. “just admit it, reader,” she snarled. “you’re nothing but an attention-seeking whore for the fortress of meropide’s administrator, a goody two-shoes for our boss, and a laughing stock for all of fontaine. you’re nothing!”
“monsieur wriothesley!” a voice resounded from down the hallway, causing everyone in the dining room to freeze. “we’re so honored to have you join us! did lady anaïs invite you?”
before you knew it, a strong arm wrapped around your shoulders from behind to give you a tight squeeze, and a pair of lips kissed the top of your head.
“so sorry i’m late, my love,” a deep voice purred by your ear. “my hands were tied…”
his voice trailed off. wriothesley, whose sudden appearance had dropped every partygoer’s jaw, noticed that your top felt weirdly damp. when he craned his neck to investigate, his heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. 
he immediately questioned if it was your blood or not.
“reader!” your boyfriend shouted, turning you around and holding you by the shoulders. a fear he had only felt as a teenager flooded rapidly into his system, and it was taking everything in him to not explode. “what happened to you? are you hurt!?”
you were still stunned in the aftermath, but you quickly collected yourself and placed your hands atop his. “no, no, i’m fine, wrio. i’m not hurt. it’s just red wine.”
“red… red wine?”
recovering from his initial shock, wriothesley twisted around, his jacket fluttering swiftly in tandem. his eyes took in the sight of an awestruck anaïs holding something behind her back and a petrified person clutching onto a pair of shoes (which explained why your dogs were out).
in a calm tone more terrifying than him speaking out of anger, wriothesley said to the hostess, “i apologize for souring the mood. however…” quickly, he engulfed your body with his jacket and swept you off your feet, hitching the air in your throat as he held you close to his chest. “my partner is not feeling well, so we’ll be taking our leave. we humbly thank you for the invitation.”
“b-but you just got here!” anaïs fretted.
her first mistake was revealing the wine glass she was desperately trying to hide earlier. in wriothesley’s realm, we call this a foul.
“reader was just a little tipsy and spilled a drink on themselves!” she crooned, tilting her head up at the duke and innocently batting her eyelashes. “why don’t you stay and become acquainted with your partner’s coworkers?”
her second foul: coveting a man in a relationship.
“i mean, they can’t be unwell to the point of needing to go home!”
her third: messing with reader. and three fouls meant a disqualification.
“heavens, no,” wriothesley insisted. “my partner’s health is my main priority, and time is of the essence. besides, the longer i remain, the less time i have to file a detailed report on an assault and battery that took place here.”
it became so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.
“a…assault…?” even through the makeup caked on anaïs’s face, you could see the color drain from it entirely. “what… what assault…!? no assault happened here, your grace!” when his frown spoke volumes, she cried out, “y-you don’t have any proof!”
“oh, i would suggest otherwise. and i believe there are many eyewitnesses to testify.”
you peered around at the guests who had gathered to view the spectacle, and they were nodding in support of wriothesley’s claim, including pauline. even anaïs’s goons were vehemently bobbing their heads up and down, still in disbelief that the man, the myth, the legend himself had graced them with his presence.
“now if you’ll excuse me…” with you firmly in his grasp, wriothesley approached the woman still clinging to your footwear, who immediately began to quiver. “i would like for you to return my partner’s shoes,” he ordered with a look as cold as ice.
“o-of course!” she stammered, extending the shoes toward him. “it was all in good fun, your grace!”
“oh, those aren’t mine,” he said with a cock of his head at your bare toes. “like i said, those belong to my partner.”
finally picking up what was he putting down, the lady shakily slipped your shoes back on your feet for which you glanced up at wriothesley with furrowed eyebrows. he only reacted with a smile that thawed the rigid expression on his face.
“i-i can’t possibly rot in jail!” anaïs was still making a fuss nearby. “i’m so young and beautiful! can’t you look past this, monsieur wriothesley…!? i’ll do anything!”
“well, it’s not something you’ll go to prison for, ma’am,” he said, not even sparing anaïs a glance as he headed for the front door, “but this misdemeanor will forever stain your official records and reputation… just as you stained my partner’s clothes.” (mic drop.)
and that was that. with a quick kiss on both cheeks from pauline, you exited the dead-quiet house in your boyfriend’s arms.
“wrio…” you murmured as he started walking in the direction of your home. “i’m really sorry for inconveniencing you.”
wriothesley momentarily stopped in his tracks to gaze down at you, his lips pursed before sighing. “no… don’t apologize, my love. i’m sorry for not arriving sooner.”
“but that isn’t your fault,” you pointed out.
a chuckle resonated from deep within his chest. “touché.”
however, his lightheartedness faded out with that chuckle when his hands gripped onto you tighter, as if you were about to dissolve into water at any moment.
“what happened, reader?” he croaked, displaying a side of him reserved for your eyes alone. “how long have they been treating you like this? and for you to not even give them a taste of the boxing skills i taught you for these kinds of situations…”
you clutched his jacket tighter to your body. “you already have so much on your plate. i could not dare to tell you something that may weigh on your conscience.”
“please,” he whispered. “i want you to weigh on my conscience.”
after a moment’s worth of hesitation, you finally gave in, explaining that the fresh bouquet of rainbow roses he sent to your office one morning sent your colleagues into a frenzy that turned your life into a nightmare. as you spoke, wriothesley’s expression became grimmer and grimmer. he couldn’t even fathom how much of a shitshow your company was for permitting the kind of behavior he merely glimpsed this evening.
and he couldn't bear the thought that you had been suffering alone for months.
“they didn’t believe me for a second, even when i had pictures of you and me framed on my desk. ‘oh, those must have been edited’.”
realizing wriothesley's muscles were so taut, you attempted to alleviate the atmosphere. “i guess no one can accept an ordinary office worker dating the administrator of the fortress of meropide. like, picture the tianquan of the liyue qixing with an npc.”
in any other situation, your boyfriend would be laughing, but certainly not this one. “no one can determine our relationship,” wriothesley stated with a clear veracity. “you are the light in my bleak world, reader, and nothing is allowed to take you away from me. if so, i will travel to the ends of teyvat to bring you back.”
he then grinned, showing off his cute canines. “and you bet i'll put my handcuffs to use.”
you slapped a hand to your forehead. “way to ruin the mood. i was just about to kiss you.”
in response, he grinded his knuckles into the top of your head, which made you yodel out in pain. “what was that for!?” you exclaimed.
“for not kissing me, but more importantly: for keeping a secret from me,” he clarified, his pale gray eyes twinkling under the moonlight. “no more of that, okay?”
you warmly smiled up at him and rested your head against his broad shoulder, completely wiped out from the party-turned-fiasco. “okay.”
as the two of you reached your abode, a question popped up in your mind. “were you serious about the handcuff thing?”
he smirked. “yes, and you’ll find out just how serious i am after we take a shower together. you reek of wine.”
a pink blush dusted your cheeks. “what? together!?”
“together. you and me.”
“ahhh! put me down!”
“nope. not a chance.”
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© xinxiaogato. please do not translate my work without permission or attempt to plagiarize it.
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