#my rooms next to the bathroom and the moment of shattering was so fucking loud omg

[chronicowboy]

handyman came to fix the shower door, immediately shattered the shower door, had a breakdown, left early. how was your morning?

[readychilledwine]

Heavy

Summary - Being a mother is so much harder than you expected, especially when Cassian is gone

Warnings - motherhood, signs of postpartum

A/N- I needed therapy, and this happened. To all my readers who are moms, readers who want to become moms, or dedicated aunts who are bonus moms: you are all amazing, strong, and valued.

You closed your eyes as your daughter cried out for the fifth time tonight. 

She had just fallen asleep. She was warm, content, fed, clean diaper. You didn't know what you were doing wrong, but when she wasn't on your chest, her small wails would break the silence of the House of Wind. You sat up, picking her up to try to stop the crying and sat against the headboard. 

Cassian had been gone for the past 4 days in Windhaven. He had, begrudgingly, agreed to go with Rhys and Azriel. Each item he packed was slammed into his bag haphazardly before he finally realized his anger was keeping your daughter awake, her little wings fluttering with each loud noise. He had slept with her skin to skin the whole night. He refused to allow anyone else to hold his girl before he left in the morning. 

And Gods her cries when she realized daddy wasn't there, that daddy wasn't going to cuddle after feedings with mommy that day, they shattered you. 

She loved her daddy. She loved you. She wanted you both at all times.

But daddy had to work, you would whisper before crying too. 

Tonight had been your last straw. You didn't remember the last time you bathed and changed clothing, the last time you slept for more than 30 to 45 minutes at a time.

The tears came before you could stop them. Cassian's absence had taken a huge toll on your mental health as you constantly had your newborn attached to your breasts, in your arms sleeping on you, crying for you if you so much as left the room to go to the bathroom.

You leaned your head back crying with her little sniffles, “I know, babygirl. I miss daddy too.” 

Cassian glared at Rhys as your stress and emotion stuck him. You had grown so exhausted that keeping the bond locked tight was no longer an option. "She's fine, Cassian. She's a great mom," Rhys said softly. "I wouldn't have pulled you away if she couldn't handle it."

Azriel made a face, having stayed the past week with you and Cassian at the house to be an extra hand. "She's an amazing mother, Rhys, but Sulwyn is a daddy's girl," Azriel leaned against the wall in the cabin. "This is probably overwhelming for all three of them. It's only be 4 weeks."

Cassia was about to respond, thanking Azriel for understanding, but you sent him one last wave before you realized the bond was open. It was that last emotion that hit him that had him standing without warning and taking off. 

That he had never felt from you before. That feeling of completely worthlessness, of self doubt, of complete self loathing. 

He pushed himself, straining each sore muscle before landing hard on your shared balcony in record time. 

And the sight inside broke his heart. 

Your daughter crying on your chest, and you with her, telling her you didn't know what else to try, what was wrong.

“Give her to me,” he said softly. “Give me our daughter. Go bathe. Do something for you.” You shook your head, holding her tighter. “y/n, give me our baby. You need a break, sweetheart. I can feel it. I can feel you falling apart. I can feel the pit forming. Let me take care of you two.”

“But Rhys-”

“Can fuck all the way off. My wife isn't okay. You need to give me Sulwyn and take a break.” You moved slowly, handing Cassian the tiny Illyrian female who instantly calmed in his arms. His face softened immediately, heart warming. “I missed you too, baby.” 

He felt the moment that shattered you too. Another heavy emotion hitting the bond. 

You sat curled up in the tub for what felt like hours. It was long enough Cassian had put Sul down and now sat next to you.

“Tell what’s going through your head,” he pushed wet hair behind your pointed ear. “Talk to me, sweetness.”

“I feel worthless. Like I've lost my sense of who I am and all value I held to the court.” You paused, wiping a few stray tears. “I feel like a burden to you, her, and now our family.”

That one struck Cassian straight in his heart. “You could never be a burden.”

“I can't even calm our daughter to sleep,” you broke again, voice shaking as you began to sob. “All I am her is her personal food slave. No one said it would be this hard.”

“I know, y/n.” Cassian sighed deeply. “We need to get you out of the House,” Cassian tilted your head to him, kissing your forehead lightly. “Madja warned us about this, remember? She warned us that you potentially would start to feel really down. Everything you are feeling is normal, even if it's so far from true.”

Cassian kissed your lips gently. “I need you to listen to me and hear me right now, okay? You are not a burden. You are not worthless. You are not her personal feeding dummy. You are her mother. Her  best friend. Her safe place.” Cassian paused, wiping your tears. “You are my wife. My mate. You are the strongest female I know. You birthed an Illyrian with the wrong anatomy and somehow survived. You're caring for a newborn the size of your torso, and you do it with a smile and without voicing these feelings. She and I would be lost without you.”

He paused again, a small squeak being heard from the bedroom before silence fell back over. “You are her favorite person. She lights up at just the sound of your voice. I have to cuddle her under your blanket. Yes, she was upset and missed me, and Gods I missed her, but you are her world. And you both are mine, and it is killing me to see you like this.”

Another small squeak came. “She's hungry,” you whispered. 

“Would a shitty mom know that just from the noise she's making?” You shook your head, allowing him to help you stand And wrap you in a warm towel. “I'll hold you two while she eats, so you can fall asleep if you want?” 

It was such a little gesture. One of his small smiles gracing his face as he carried you back into your shared room. 

Cassian dressed you gently kissing your fingers, your palms, your cheekbones. He laid in the bed with you two motioning for you to come between his legs and holding Sulwyn to you. 

“Tomorrow mama is going to leave for awhile, Sul. You, daddy, and Auntie Nesta will hang out while Uncle Az takes mom to the Cafe they like to go to so they can discuss the latest in gross spy shit-” Cassian froze behind you. “Stuff.”

He smiled looking down and realizing you had fallen asleep in his arms. “You, little baby,” he looked at Sulwyn, “Are beyond loved. We need to make sure mama feels that way too, okay? Daddy is going to tell Uncle Rhys to shove it tomorrow. Then we're going to work on spoiling mommy.”

Your daughter gave Cassian a small smile, looking up at him with bright doe eyes as she continued eating. “That's my girl.”

[lila-lou]

✨His second exception - Pt. 12/?✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, teasing, kinda kinky, Language, fluff

Word Count: 7454

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 12 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

It wasn’t until three weeks later, in the middle of the night, that Ben came home from another mission. Even though you didn’t like him going on missions, you knew it helped him stay less on edge.

You had just finally fallen asleep, having been pretty tired all day.

Ben tried his best to be quiet, even opting to shower in the guest bathroom to avoid waking you up. He knew how grumpy you could get when woken up unexpectedly. But as he walked into the dark bedroom, with only a towel around his waist, he stumbled against one of the three big moving boxes placed randomly in the middle of the room.

He cursed quietly, the sound just loud enough to stir you from your sleep. “What the fuck…”, he muttered under his breath, trying to regain his balance.

You groggily sat up, rubbing your eyes. “Ben? Is that you?”, you asked, your voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah, it’s me”, he replied, sounding a bit frustrated. “What’s with these fucking boxes in the middle of the room?”.

You yawned and stretched, blinking as you tried to wake up fully. “I’ve been sorting through some old stuff”, you explained. “I didn’t realize you’d be back so soon, or I would have moved them out of the way”.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his grumpy and annoyed face as you turned on the soft bed lamp, casting a warm glow across the room. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to turn our bedroom into an obstacle course”, you teased, the amusement clear in your voice.

Ben grumbled good-naturedly, shaking his head as he moved around the boxes to reach you. “Next time, leave me a fucking map or something”, he said, his irritation melting away as he saw your sleepy smile.

You patted the spot next to you on the bed, and he dropped the towel before slipping under the covers. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. The familiar warmth and scent of him brought an immediate sense of comfort and security.

“I missed you”, you murmured, resting your head against his chest. “How was the mission?”.

Ben sighed, his voice filled with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. “Too long”, he mumbled, his hands already moving to unbutton your silk pajama shirt. As he found your bare skin, he pressed his face between your breasts, seeking the comfort and closeness he had missed.

You chuckled tiredly, running your fingers through his hair. “Ben”, you murmured softly, a smile playing on your lips.

But he had no intention of stopping. “You’re already awake”, he said, his voice low and filled with a teasing edge. “Might as well make the most of it”.

Without waiting for a no—knowing full well it would come since you were quite tired—Ben’s lips closed around one of your nipples. He sucked gently at first, then bit down a bit harder, just enough to send a jolt of sensation through you. It was a calculated move, one he knew would rouse you more fully.

You gasped, your eyes widening as the sharp pleasure-pain combination made your heart race. “Ben”, you protested weakly, though you could feel your body responding, waking up to his touch.

He smirked against your skin, his tongue flicking out to soothe the slight sting. “See? Much more awake now”, he murmured, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples.

Despite your initial protest, you couldn’t deny the growing heat between your legs. Ben’s hands and mouth worked their magic, his touch both commanding and tender. His lips traveled lower, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach.

You arched your back, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his journey downward. “Ben, please…”, you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of need and exhaustion.

He paused, looking up at you with dark, hungry eyes. “Please what?”, he teased, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your thighs.

“Please… don’t stop”, you admitted, your voice barely more than a breath.

His grin widened, a triumphant glint in his eyes. “I wasn’t planning to”.

He took his time, savoring every inch of you as his lips continued their descent. His fingers maintained their gentle, teasing circles on your thighs, coaxing your legs apart. The anticipation built with each passing second, your breath coming in shallow, eager gasps.

His mouth finally reached your core, and he nuzzled you gently, inhaling your scent. “You’re always so responsive”, he murmured, his voice vibrating against your most sensitive spot. The sensation made you shiver.

With agonizing slowness, he began to tease you with his tongue, tracing light, featherlike patterns over your folds. You moaned softly, your hips instinctively arching towards him, seeking more of his touch. His hands tightened on your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he continued his slow, deliberate exploration.

“Ben…", you gasped, the need in your voice unmistakable.

He responded by pressing his tongue flat against you, dragging it from your entrance to your clit in a long, deliberate stroke. The sensation was electric, sending a surge of pleasure through your body. You moaned louder, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He circled your clit with his tongue, each movement precise and calculated to drive you wild. The intensity of his focus, the way he knew exactly what you needed, was almost overwhelming. You could feel the pressure building inside you, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter with every flick of his tongue.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, Ben added his fingers to the mix. One slid inside you easily, curling upward to find that perfect spot. He moved slowly at first, matching the rhythm of his tongue, but gradually increased the pace, driving you higher and higher.

Ben continued his exquisite torture, his fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony to drive you to the brink of ecstasy. Just as you were about to topple over the edge, he suddenly pulled away, leaving you gasping and trembling with unfulfilled need.

You let out a frustrated whine, your eyes flashing with a mixture of desire and annoyance. “Ben”, you protested, your voice breathless. “Why did you stop?”.

He smirked, clearly enjoying your frustration. “Just reminding you how easily I can make you come”, he teased, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your inner thighs. “But only when I want to”.

You glared at him, your body aching for release. “You’re such a dick”, you shot back, though there was no real venom in your words.

Ben’s smirk widened at your frustration. “Oh, come on now”, he said, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Isn’t this fun for you too?”.

You let out a low growl, your body trembling with the need for release. “Ben”, you begged, your voice cracking with desperation.

He laughed softly, the sound both infuriating and intoxicating. “I love seeing you like this”, he murmured, his fingers ghosting over your heated skin, never quite giving you what you craved. “So needy, so desperate for me”.

You couldn’t take it anymore. With a burst of frustration and determination, you pushed against his chest, catching him off guard. He stumbled back, falling onto the mattress beside you, a look of surprise and amusement on his face.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, you climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and pinning him down. “You want to tease?”, you challenged, your voice low and throaty. “Let’s see how you like it”.

Ben’s eyes darkened with desire, his hands instinctively moving to your hips. “Oh, I like this side of you”, he murmured, his voice filled with appreciation.

You smirked down at him, the rush of power intoxicating. “Do you now?”, you mocked. “Let’s see how much you like it when you’re the one begging”.

His eyes flashed with a mixture of amusement and challenge. But your words had struck a nerve, and you saw a flicker of something darker in his gaze. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin with a force that made you gasp.

The pressure was almost painful, but you could see the struggle in his eyes as he tried to balance his strength and control. “Careful now”, he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re playing with fire”.

You leaned down, your breath hot against his ear. “I can handle the heat”, you whispered, your tone filled with confidence.

Ben’s grip tightened even more, and you felt the sharp bite of his fingers against your flesh. The pain mingled with pleasure, sending a shiver through your body. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the bruising of his massive ego battling with his desire to dominate.

“Is that so?”, he challenged, his voice rough.

With a sudden, forceful move, he flipped you onto your back, his body hovering over you. The change in position was so swift it left you breathless, and you found yourself pinned beneath him, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

He stared down at you, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and lust. “You think you can handle this?”, he demanded, his voice a low growl.

With those words, Ben thrust inside you with a forceful motion, knocking the air out of your lungs. A sharp pain shot through you, mingling with the intense pleasure that followed. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself.

“Ben”, you breathed, a mix of pain and arousal coloring your voice. Despite the initial discomfort, you couldn’t deny how hot it felt, the raw intensity of his need mirroring your own.

He smirked down at you, his eyes dark and intense. “Told you”, he growled, his hips pulling back before driving into you again with the same unrelenting force.

Your body arched beneath him, a cry escaping your lips. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that left you trembling. “Ben…please…”, you gasped, though whether you were begging for more or for mercy, you couldn’t be sure.

His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers leaving bruises you knew you’d feel later. “I’m not stopping”, he muttered, his voice rough and filled with determination. “Not until I’ve fucked that attitude out of you”.

You knew how to push his buttons, and despite the force of his thrusts, you found the strength to meet his gaze with a defiant smirk. “Is that the best you can do?”, you taunted, your voice breathless but challenging. “I thought you were stronger than this”.

His eyes darkened further, a dangerous glint appearing as your words struck a nerve. He growled, the sound low and primal, and shifted his grip, one hand moving to your throat. The pressure was firm but not enough to cut off your air, just enough to remind you of his power.

“You really want to test me?”, he snarled, his hips driving into you with even more intensity. The hand on your throat tightened slightly, enough to make your breath hitch but not to truly harm. “I can fucking break you”, he warned, his voice a mix of anger and arousal.

The pressure around your throat, combined with the relentless force of his thrusts, sent a shiver of both fear and excitement through you. You knew you were pushing him to his limits, and it thrilled you. “Do it”, you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath.

He didn’t know why he couldn’t hold back as well as he usually could with you. Maybe it was the way you pushed him, the way you taunted him, or the way you looked at him with such defiance and desire. And you, you didn’t understand why you wanted him to fuck you this hard, to push you to your limits. Maybe it was the thrill of the danger, the raw power and intensity he exuded, or the way he made you feel alive.

Both of you knew that if his control slipped completely, he could easily hurt you, even kill you. But right now, you were lost in the heat of the moment, consumed by your need for each other.

Ben’s thrusts became even more powerful, each one driving you further into the mattress. The pressure on your throat increased just enough to make your breath hitch, but still not enough to truly harm you. It was a delicate balance, one that he maintained with surprising precision even in his heightened state.

“You’re mine”, he growled, his voice filled with a primal possessiveness. “Only mine”.

Your response was a breathless moan, your body arching up to meet his thrusts. “Yours”, you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders. “Only yours”.

The admission seemed to fuel his desire even more. His movements became more desperate, more intense, driving you both closer to the edge. The room was filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the slap of skin against skin, and the occasional low growl from Ben.

The pleasure and pain blended together into a whirlwind of sensation. Every thrust, every squeeze of his hand around your throat, every brush of his skin against yours sent you spiraling higher and higher. You could feel the tension building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter with each passing moment.

Finally, the pressure became too much to bear. With one final, powerful thrust, Ben sent you over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you, a wave of intense pleasure that left you trembling and gasping for breath. Your vision blurred, your body shaking with the force of it.

His thrusts remained powerful, unrelenting, each movement drawing him closer to his climax.

“Look at you”, he growled, his voice husky and breathless. “So desperate, so needy for me”.

You could only respond with incoherent moans, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Your nails raked down his back, leaving red trails in their wake, but Ben barely noticed. His focus was entirely on you, on the way your body reacted to him.

“You love this, don’t you?”, he continued, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make your breath hitch again. “You love being mine".

You nodded weakly, your eyes meeting his. “Yes”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “I love it. I love you”.

The admission sent a fresh wave of desire through Ben. He drove into you harder, faster, his control slipping further with each thrust. “Good”, he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “Because I’m never letting you go”.

With a final, powerful thrust, he reached his climax, his release spilling into you with an intensity that left you both breathless. He held you tightly, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm.

For a few moments, neither of you moved. You were both too spent, too overwhelmed by the intensity of what had just happened. Ben’s body pressed heavily against yours, his breath warm and ragged against your neck. You felt the rapid thudding of his heart against your chest,

Slowly, Ben’s grip on your throat loosened, his fingers trailing gently down to rest on your collarbone. He raised his head slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. The dark, intense desire had softened, replaced by a tender concern. “You´re okay?”, he asked, his voice a hushed whisper filled with sincerity.

You nodded weakly, a satisfied smile spreading across your lips. “Yeah”, you whispered back, your voice hoarse but content. “More than okay”.

Ben’s expression softened even further, and he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. His lips lingered there for a moment before he pulled back, his eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort. Seeing none, he let out a relieved sigh, his shoulders relaxing as he held you close.

Gently, he eased himself off of you, careful not to cause any more discomfort. He settled beside you, pulling you into his arms. The warmth of his body enveloped you, and you nestled into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished.

His fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, the gentle touch a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before. “You really drive me fucking nuts, you know that?”, he murmured, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, your own chuckle blending with his. “I could say the same about you”, you teased, your voice a gentle murmur as you nestled closer to him. “But I think that’s part of what makes this work, don’t you?”.

Ben’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and affection. “Yeah, it definitely keeps things interesting”, he agreed, his fingers continuing their soothing patterns on your back.

You traced a lazy pattern on his chest with your finger, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths.

"You know”, he began, his tone teasing, “you could have just asked nicely if you wanted to get fucked harder”.

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “Oh, please”, you mumbled, shaking your head. “You never do that because you’re always afraid of hurting me”.

Ben’s smirk softened into a more thoughtful expression. “Yeah, well, it’s not like I don’t have good reason to be careful”, he replied, his fingers continuing their gentle movements on your back.

“By the way”, you whispered, pulling away from him. You slipped your arms into the sleeves of your pajama shirt but didn’t bother buttoning it up, knowing Ben would likely unbutton it anyway after what you were about to show him. Holding your shirt closed with one hand, you walked towards the bathroom, the anticipation building.

Ben watched you curiously, his eyes following your every movement. “What are you up to now?”, he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and intrigue.

You emerged from the bathroom holding a small bag, your heart pounding with excitement and nerves. Ben’s eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity as you walked back to the bed, holding the bag out to him.

“What’s this?”, he asked, sitting up and taking the bag from your hand.

“Just open it”, you said softly, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Ben carefully opened the bag, his eyes widening as he pulled out the positive pregnancy test.

For a moment, he just stared at it, his expression shifting from confusion to realization and then to pure, unfiltered joy.

“You’re…?”, he began, his voice thick with emotion.

You nodded, tears of happiness welling up in your eyes. “Yeah”.

Ben’s face lit up with joy, a wide smile breaking through as he processed the news, but the mood shifted almost instantly. In a spontaneous reaction, he pushed against your shoulder. It was meant to be a light, playful shove, but his strength sent you tumbling back into the pillows. “And you let me do this to you?! The fuck is wrong with you”, he grumbled, a mix of worry and confusion in his tone, referencing the intensity of your fucking just minutes ago.

You looked up at him, biting back a laugh at his exaggerated concern. “Ben, relax. It’s fine… We’re fine”, you reassured him, trying to soothe his sudden surge of protectiveness.

He wasn’t entirely convinced, his brows knitting together as he hovered over you. “You’re not getting fucked for a long time for this”, he declared, raising a finger sternly. But his attempt at seriousness faltered, his lips twitching into a smile that he couldn’t quite suppress.

You laughed, reaching up to pull him down for a kiss. “Is that supposed to be punishment or protection?”, you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Ben chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. “Maybe a bit of both”, he admitted, his voice softening.

With a gentle but firm motion, he pulled you onto his lap, his hands settling protectively on your stomach. His large palms nearly covered your entire belly, and he closed his eyes, concentrating deeply. You watched him, curiosity and love mingling in your gaze.

After a few moments, his eyes opened, and a wide, genuine smile spread across his face. “There it is”, he murmured, his voice filled with awe. He could feel the faint, delicate heartbeat of your baby, just beginning its journey of life.

"You can sense it?".

Ben’s eyes sparkled with joy and pride as he looked at you, his hands still resting gently on your stomach. “You still doubt my abilities?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “No, I never doubted you. I just… I didn’t expect you to be able to feel it so soon”, you admitted, your voice filled with wonder.

He grinned, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not your average guy”, he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed your amusement. “I guess not”, you replied, leaning in to kiss him softly. “You’re extraordinary in so many ways”.

Ben leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. The warmth and tenderness of the moment enveloped you both, making everything else fade into the background. As he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, he murmured, “Mmhmm, tell me about it”.

You laughed softly, your breath mingling with his. “Well, let’s see”, you began, your voice filled with affection. “You’re strong, protective, and you have this incredible ability to make me feel safe and loved no matter what”.

His grin widened, his eyes sparkling with joy. “Keep going”, he urged playfully, his hands gently squeezing your hips.

You shook your head, a mock exasperated expression on your face. “You’re also incredibly stubborn and a bit of a show-off”, you teased, poking his chest lightly.

Ben raised an eyebrow and whispered against your lips, “Uh-uh, wrong way, baby. Turn around”, referring to you getting back on his good side.

You laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep within you. “Okay, okay”, you conceded, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re also incredibly charming, unbelievably handsome, and you have this annoying way of making me fall in love with you more every day”.

His eyes softened, and he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “That’s more like it”, he said, his voice filled with warmth.

You felt a surge of emotion as you looked into his eyes, knowing that despite his tough exterior, he had a heart that beat just for you. “I love you, Ben”, you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks. “I love you too”, he replied, his voice steady and unwavering. “More than anything”.

There was a comfortable silence between you, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you like a soft blanket. Ben’s fingers gently traced patterns on your back, his touch light and reassuring.

Then, breaking the quiet, he mumbled, “You never told me how it really was for you”.

You looked up at him, a questioning gaze meeting his. “What do you mean?”, you asked softly.

He smirked slightly. “You know, when I took your little precious virginity”, he teased, his voice a playful growl.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and nostalgia. “Oh, that”, you said, trying to mask your shyness with a playful tone.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not letting you off the hook that easily. “Yeah, that”, he said, his voice dropping to a more serious, inquisitive tone. “I never asked because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I’ve always wondered. Was it okay for you? Did I hurt you?”.

You sighed, your mind drifting back to that night. It had been intense, overwhelming, and filled with a whirlwind of emotions. “It was… a lot”, you admitted, your voice honest. “You were intense, but you were also incredibly tender and careful. I was nervous and excited, and you made me feel safe. It was perfect in its own way”.

Even though you just told him it was perfect, the words before lingered in his mind and he wasn’t quite satisfied. “A lot”, he repeated, his tone thoughtful. “That doesn’t sound like it was all good”.

You bit your lip, sensing his concern. “Well, Ben, your… size isn’t exactly average”, you admitted with a shy smile. “And being a virgin, it wasn’t as smooth as I might have hoped. But you were so patient and gentle when I needed you to be”.

Even though Ben never was the type to be gentle or considerate, he had made an exception for you and continued to do so.

But he would never completely admit to it. You looked up at him, seeing that he was still processing your words. You sighed softly, cupping his face in your hands.

“Ben”, you said gently, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You were amazing, okay? You still are. I wouldn’t change anything about that night, or any night since”.

His eyes softened slightly, but there was still a flicker of doubt. “I just want to make sure I’m not hurting you”, he murmured, his hands resting on your hips, his touch tender.

You smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “You’re not hurting me. I trust you”.

He sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing a little. You watched him closely, still cupping his face, and asked gently, “Where is this coming from, Ben?”.

He pressed his lips together in a tight, almost reluctant smile. His eyes flicked down to your belly before meeting your gaze again. “If this is gonna be a girl”, he said, pointing toward your belly, “I’m gonna lose my fucking shit”.

You blinked in surprise, then a smile broke across your face. “Why?”, you asked, amusement lacing your tone.

Ben’s eyes softened, and he seemed to be wrestling with his thoughts. “I just… I want to protect her. I know how the world can be, especially for girls”. He paued. “And if she’s anything like you… I don’t know if I can handle it”, he mumbled.

“Like me?”, you raised an eyebrow, grinning.

“Yeah”, he said, his voice a mix of frustration and admiration. “Choosing someone like me, a fucking supe with a tendency to lose control for her fucking first time ever. That was a fucking stupid idea”.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Ben, it wasn’t a stupid idea. It was the best decision I ever made. I love you, and I wanted my first time to be with someone I trust completely”.

“You really mean that?”, Ben asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of doubt.

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. “Yes, I really mean that. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way”.

Ben’s expression softened further, and he pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. “I just… I know I can be a lot to handle”.

You chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “You are a lot, but that’s part of why I love you. You’re passionate, strong, and you care so deeply. And you’ve always been so careful with me, even when you’re being intense”.

Ben pressed his lips against yours, the intensity of his emotions flowing through the kiss. It was as if he couldn’t handle the depth of your dedication, the sincerity of your words. You felt his hands tighten around you, pulling you closer, needing the physical connection to ground him.

The kiss deepened, filled with a mixture of passion, gratitude, and a fierce protectiveness. Ben’s fingers threaded through your hair, holding you to him as if he never wanted to let go. You responded in kind, your arms wrapping around his neck, drawing him closer still.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Ben’s eyes were dark with emotion, his voice husky as he spoke. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not letting go. Ever”.

You smiled, your heart swelling with love. “And I’m not going anywhere”, you whispered back, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw.

With that, Ben gently pressed your head against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you protectively. You could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, a comforting rhythm that grounded you both. “We’re gonna have a fucking baby”, he mumbled, still in awe at the reality of it. The wonder in his voice made your heart swell even more.

You snuggled closer, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. “Yes, we are”, you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of excitement and tenderness.

Ben held you tightly, his hand moving to rest on your belly once again. He was still processing the enormity of the news, the joy and the concern intertwined in his mind. He would never admit it, but a part of him had been worried that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t get pregnant again after the loss you both had endured.

But here you were, a new life growing inside you. The thought filled him with a fierce determination to protect you both, to ensure that nothing would harm you or the baby.

As the minutes passed, the emotional intensity of the moment began to ebb, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. Your eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion from the day and the overwhelming emotions finally catching up to you. Ben’s hands continued their gentle caress on your belly, the repetitive motion soothing and comforting.

Gradually, your breathing slowed, matching the calm rhythm of his. Ben noticed the change, a tender smile spreading across his face as he realized you were falling asleep in his arms. He adjusted his position slightly, making sure you were comfortable without waking you.

The room was quiet, the only sound the gentle hum of the night outside and the soft rustle of the sheets as Ben shifted to hold you more securely. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there as he whispered, “I love you”.

You mumbled something unintelligible in response, already halfway to dreamland. Ben chuckled softly, his heart swelling with love and pride. With you nestled safely in his arms, Ben allowed himself to relax, his own eyes growing heavy.

The following week felt like an eternity as you and Ben waited for your first appointment at the Vought hospital. Ben’s overprotectiveness reached new heights, as he tried to shield you from any possible work or stress. While his intentions were pure, his constant hovering drove you nearly crazy. He did try his best to give you some space, finding tasks that didn’t require physical effort for you to do, but it was still a delicate balance.

Today, however, was the day of your appointment. As you prepared to leave for the hospital, Ben’s concern was palpable. He made sure you were comfortable in the car, fussing over every little detail.

The drive to the hospital was quiet, both of you lost in your thoughts. Ben’s hand never left yours, his grip firm yet gentle. When you arrived, he helped you out of the car, his protective instincts kicking in once more as he guided you into the building.

The familiar surroundings of the Vought hospital brought back a flood of memories, some bittersweet, but you pushed them aside, focusing on the hope and excitement of the present moment. The receptionist greeted you warmly, and after a short wait, you were led to the examination room.

Dr. Collins quickly joined you, a soft smile on her lips. “It’s good to see you both again”, she said gently, her eyes kind and understanding. “How have you been?”.

You exchanged a glance with Ben, who gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve been alright”, you replied, your voice steady. “Just really looking forward to today”.

She nodded, understanding the mix of anticipation and nerves that came with this visit. “Well, let’s get started then”, she said, motioning for you to lie down on the examination table. “We’ll need to do an internal ultrasound to confirm the pregnancy and check on everything”.

A wave of nervousness washed over you as you began to undress from the hips down. Ben noticed the anxiety in your eyes and leaned in close, his voice low and teasing. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m sure Dr. Collins has seen plenty of asses, but none as fine as yours”.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, his attempt at easing your nerves working slightly. “You’re impossible”, you murmured, giving him a playful shove as you folded your clothes neatly on a nearby chair.

As you settled onto the examination table, your heart raced. The cold air of the room made you shiver slightly, and you felt exposed and vulnerable. Ben stayed close, holding your hand firmly in his, his presence a steady comfort.

Dr. Collins adjusted the equipment, her movements professional and reassuring. “Alright, this might feel a bit uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t be painful”, she explained as she prepared the ultrasound probe. “Just take deep breaths and try to relax”.

Ben leaned down, whispering in your ear. “You’ve handled worse, trust me. Remember that one time in the kitchen?”.

You shot him a look, half-annoyed, half-amused. “Ben, now is not the time”, you hissed, though his words did manage to distract you a bit from your anxiety.

As Dr. Collins began the procedure, you focused on the feeling of Ben’s hand in yours, his thumb gently stroking your skin. The initial discomfort eased as you took deep breaths, your body gradually relaxing into the process.

After a few moments, the screen flickered to life. Dr. Collins moved the probe with practiced ease, searching for the tiny life growing inside you. “There it is”, she said softly, turning the screen so you and Ben could see. The tiny, flickering heartbeat was clearly visible, and the sound of it filled the room. "Not hiding this time".

Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of relief and overwhelming joy washing over you. Ben’s grip on your hand tightened.

“Everything looks perfect”, Dr. Collins confirmed, her voice warm and reassuring. “The heartbeat is strong and healthy”.

Ben let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, a smile breaking across his face.

Dr. Collins continued the examination, her eyes focused on the screen and her hands moving expertly. She filled out your file, noting the strong heartbeat and other vital details. Then she turned to you, her expression gentle but professional.

“How have you been feeling?”, she asked, pen poised over your chart.

You took a deep breath, glancing at Ben before answering. “Mostly just really tired”, you admitted. “I’ve been exhausted all the time”.

Dr. Collins nodded, jotting down your symptoms. “Fatigue is common in early pregnancy”, she explained. “But it’s good that you’re mentioning it. We want to monitor everything closely, especially given your history”.

She paused, her gaze shifting between you and Ben, her tone becoming more serious. “I also want to talk to you about V medication”, she said. “Given that he", she nodded ftowards Ben, "is a supe, we need to be vigilant for any symptoms that shouldn’t be present in a normal pregnancy, or if you start experiencing typical symptoms much too early or too intensely”.

Ben’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his protective instincts kicking in. “What kind of symptoms should we be looking out for?”, he asked, his voice steady but concerned.

Dr. Collins sighed softly, her expression somber. “Things like extreme pain, rapid weight gain or loss, abnormal bleeding, or any unusual abilities manifesting”, she listed.

Ben and you nodded, absorbing the information and letting Dr. Collins finish her tests. As she worked, you shared what your parents had revealed about the V traces in your blood, explaining the unexpected discovery. Dr. Collins listened intently, her interest piqued.

“That’s very interesting”, she said, taking note. “We should run some additional tests to get a clearer picture of how this might impact your pregnancy”. She quickly gathered a few blood samples, labeling them meticulously.

After completing the tests, Dr. Collins turned to a small printer beside the ultrasound machine. “I’m going to print out some ultrasound pictures for you”, she said, her voice warm. As the images emerged, she handed them to Ben with a smile. “These are for you two to keep. It’s always special to have these early moments captured”.

Ben took the pictures, his eyes softening as he looked at the tiny life growing inside you. He handed one to you, and you both marveled at the image, a tangible proof of the new life you were creating together.

Dr. Collins then handed you a pregnancy journal. “I want you to document everything you’re feeling, every symptom, no matter how minor it may seem”, she instructed. “We’ll need to monitor you closely, so I’m ordering you to come in for a check-up at least once a week. And if anything strange or unusual happens, you need to contact me immediately”.

You nodded, feeling a mix of reassurance and responsibility. “We will”, you promised, your hand tightening around Ben’s.

Dr. Collins smiled warmly. “You’re in good hands. We’ll take every precaution to ensure a healthy pregnancy for both you and the baby”.

As the two of you stood in the elevator, Ben’s hand rested gently on your lower back. His presence was a constant source of reassurance and warmth. He glanced down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity. “Mind if I check on the team?”, he asked.

You smiled, shaking your head. “Of course not. Let’s go”.

When the elevator reached the top floor, you walked together towards the meeting room. As you approached, Butcher walked in your direction, a smirk already forming on his face. Just as he was about to make a comment about Ben finally showing up again, his gaze shifted to you, lingering on your belly for a few seconds before he grinned widely.

“Congratulations, mommy”, he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

Ben rolled his eyes, raising a hand in disbelief. “We’re trying to keep it a secret for a few more weeks”, he grumbled.

Butcher chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. “Ah, don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me”, he said, though his smirk suggested otherwise.

“How are you even doing this, Butcher?”, you grumbled, your own irritation surfacing. It was supposed to be a private moment for a little while longer, and Butcher’s keen observation had cut that short.

“Just have a knack for noticing things”, Butcher replied, his tone almost too casual. He then turned serious for a moment. “But, seriously, congratulations. Hope everything goes smoothly”. Then, with his usual irreverence, he added, “If you need anything, don’t ask me”, before he stepped inside the meeting room, followed by you and Ben.

Frenchie, who was already seated, looked up and raised both hands dramatically. “Mon Amie, why are you doing this to me?”, he exclaimed, directing his theatrical lament at Ben. “Giving Butcher the lead again!”.

Ben smirked, giving Frenchie a knowing look. “Someone’s gotta keep you all in line while I’m busy with other important things”, he said, his hand still resting protectively on your back. You and Ben hadn't been to the tower for a week.

Frenchie sighed theatrically, but there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Fine, fine. Just don’t blame me when he makes us do something insane”.

The rest of the team chuckled, the atmosphere lightening up a bit. Ben took his seat at the head of the table, motioning for you to sit beside him. As the meeting commenced, the team discussed various missions and updates.

As the discussion moved forward, you found yourself stealing glances at Ben, feeling a deep sense of love and admiration for him. His focus and determination were evident, but there was also a gentleness in the way he kept a protective eye on you, ensuring your comfort and well-being throughout the meeting.

As the meeting drew to a close, Annie looked up from her notes, her eyes filled with curiosity and concern. “So, when will you two be returning full-time?”, she asked, her tone gentle but insistent.

Ben leaned back in his chair, glancing at you before responding. “Next week”, he said firmly. “We just needed some time to get things in order”.

Annie nodded, accepting the answer without pressing further. It was clear she had her suspicions, but she respected your privacy. Ben had made it clear that the news of your pregnancy was to be kept a secret for a little while longer.

After the meeting, Ben insisted on getting you home. Despite your protests that you could stay a bit longer, he was adamant. “You need your rest”, he said firmly. Reluctantly, you agreed, knowing he was right.

The ride home wasn’t that long, but it was long enough for you to drift off to sleep. The pregnancy was already taking its toll on your body, leaving you constantly tired. Ben had jokingly but lovingly referred to you as “fucking narcoleptic”, always with a sarcastic smile that betrayed his genuine concern.

Ben glanced over at you as you slept, his expression softening. He marveled at how quickly you could fall asleep these days, and it made him all the more determined to protect you and the life growing inside you. The exhaustion etched on your face tugged at his heartstrings.

When you arrived home, Ben gently lifted you in his arms, careful not to jostle you too much. As he cradled you against his chest, you stirred, blinking awake, completely disoriented.

“Ben?”, you mumbled, your voice groggy and confused. “What’s happening?”.

“We’re home”, he said softly, his tone reassuring. “You fell asleep in the car”.

You blinked a few more times, trying to shake off the haze of sleep. “I can walk”, you insisted weakly, though you made no move to leave his arms.

Ben chuckled, a soft, rumbling sound. “I know you can". He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his grip secure and comforting.

You just nodded, allowing yourself to relax into his embrace. As he carried you inside, you marveled at how easily he could lift you, his strength a constant source of both awe and comfort. He navigated through the house with ease, making his way to the bedroom.

Once there, he gently laid you down on the bed, carefully arranging the pillows and covers around you. “There you go”, he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Comfy?”.

You nodded, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you.. I think I’m going to take a nap”, you added, your voice trailing off. But before you could finish your sentence, your eyes fluttered closed, and you were already drifting back into sleep.

Ben watched you for a moment, before he carefully pulled the covers up to your chin, ensuring you were snug and comfortable.

He quietly left the room, deciding to take care of a few things around the house while you rested. But he kept the door ajar, so he could hear if you needed anything.

As he moved through the house, his mind kept drifting back to the sight of you sleeping soundly, the knowledge that you were carrying his child filling him with a profound sense of purpose.

A couple of hours later, he peeked into the bedroom to check on you. You were still sleeping soundly, your breathing steady and peaceful. He decided to join you for a nap, carefully slipping into bed beside you. As he wrapped his arm around you, you instinctively cuddled closer.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 🥰

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Part 13

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78 @uddiifiigj @libby99hb @urgogodancer @urinternetmom

[lexisecretaccx]

A Married Man - M.S

Masterlist!

(Fem reader x Matt Sturniolo, smut, cheating (don’t do that shit!!), angst, sad, i know Matt wouldn’t do this but it’s a fake story, not proofread!)

Summary: Y/n has been sleeping with Matt for the past month and after a night at his house she finds something that causes her so much regret…

He pulls my shirt over my head as we rush to the bed, I lay back on it as he removes his own clothes. “Such a pretty girl.” He smirks at me before removing my pants and underwear. His hand immediately finds place on my clit as he rubs circles causing me to whimper lightly.

The cold rings on his fingers pressing against my skin as he slips his middle finger in, pumping in and out quickly. I’ve never really understood the ring on his ring finger.. I asked him about it and he told me how it’s for the aesthetic like the other rings he wears. I realise that he has a lot of woman stuff.

Like the shampoos, soaps, pads, tampons, all the things in his bathroom that he told me is for any female guests. That’s thoughtful of him honestly, it’s nice to shower after sex and not have to use a man’s 3 in 1 soap.

He pulls me by my legs and spreads them out before putting them around his waist lining his cock up with my entrance, a dance we have done many times before. He pushes into me maintaining eye contact as my expression shifts to pleasure. He pounds into me roughly as he holds my hands above my head.

The sounds of skin slapping and my loud moans fills the bedroom, alongside his groans and low moans. His tip manages to kiss my g-spot perfecting each time he pounds into me, furthering me deeper and deeper into the euphoric state of my brewing orgasm. “Doing so good for me baby..” he groans.

“I’m gonna cum!” I scream out as I feel the knot in my stomach tighten he doesn’t slow his pace but instead he brings a hand down to wear we connect and rubbing circles on my clit. “Fuck!” I yell in pleasure as I come undone on his cock, he does a few more slow thrusts before finishing inside of me with a loud moan.

He pulls out and lays breathlessly next to me for a moment “let me clean you.” He gets off of the bed and walks to his en suite bathroom, he returns with a wet wash cloth and cleans up in between my legs. “I’m gonna hop in the shower, do you wanna join? Not for sex but just to clean.” He offers but I shake my head.

“No it’s okay thank you though, do you have something I could eat?” I ask him sitting up and returning my clothes back on. “Yeah we have fruits, snacks, literally anything in the kitchen, and drinks.” He smiles at me, “We?” I chuckle. He turns back to me, “I was joking, like pretending I’m a hotel.” He smirks, I giggle. “Alright thanks.” I get up and walk downstairs.

I hear the shower upstairs turn on and I enter the kitchen, it’s connected to the dining room. I grab a bag of chips and start to eat them, I look at the dining room and towards the stairs, the shower still running. I’m a nosy person, it’s normal. I walk into the dining room and take a look at the various shelves.

Ornaments and plants decorate them, a picture of Matt and his classmates from when he was in school makes me smile to myself. On one of the shelves there is a picture that’s face down. It probably fell, I should put it back up for him. I go on my tip toes to reach the picture and take a look at it.

It’s a wedding photo, I look for Matt in the background as it’s probably his friend’s wedding. He isn’t standing by the best men, I take a look at the bride and groom. She’s pretty and he is.. he’s Matt.

My heart sinks to my stomach and I drop the picture. The glass of the frame shatters and I step back. It can’t be? I pick the broken frame back up and take a closer look, I feel sick. It’s him, the shower stops running. I hear him walking around upstairs probably getting dressed.

He’s fucking married?!

I’ve been sleeping with a married man? I’m such a bad person, I didn’t know he was married! If I did I would’ve left him alone and not talked to him in that way. My hands are shaky and I feel my eyes well with tears, my breaths are shallow as tears pour down my cheeks.

I feel terrible, I didn’t know but I should’ve, the ring? How stupid am I to believe that? The women’s products? The high heels that are by the front door that he told me were a gift for his mother? I should’ve thought more into it instead of being blinded by his blatant lies. When he said “we” a minute ago, he wasn’t making a joke, he meant him and his wife.

Where even is she, I hear the stairs creaking but I can’t move, I’m frozen in shock. “Y/n?” He calls to me, “what are ya doi-” I hear the obvious pause in his voice as he walks up behind me and sees the picture in my hand. “You’re married?” I speak shakily.

“Y/n.. I can explain.. that photo is old, that’s why I had it face down on the shelf.” He rubs my shoulders, I take the image out of the already broken frame and turn it around, ‘Matt and Lydia Autumn 2023’ is written on the back, “Old?” I put the image down and turn to him. “Fuck.. y/n we just had such a good connection I..” he goes to speak but I cut him off.

“That you had to cheat on your wife?! If you liked me that much you could’ve separated with her or divorced, there was no need to cheat!!” I yell, “Calm down baby.” He tries to relax me, “I can’t calm down! I slept with a married man!! I’m a home wrecker!” I cry out loudly. “Where even is she? The past month that we’ve been fucking?” I ask him aggressively.

He sighs, “The past week she’s been on a business trip, and normally she works from 10pm-4am so that’s why I usually get you to come at 11pm and I get you home by 3am.” He mumbled. “Oh my fucking god. You have to tell her about this!” I shout. “I can’t do that..” he bites his lip. “Why? You love her? If you loved her you wouldn’t have done this!”

“You are as equally to blame as me y/n.” He shouts, “You knew you were married and lied to me! I had no clue Matt!! I wouldn’t have even talked to you that night if I knew you were married.” I push past him, “where are you going?” He asks, “To the store to buy cupcakes.” I sarcastically say. He tilts his head, “Home obviously!” I shout.

“If you don’t tell her when she’s back.. I will.” I hiss at him before opening the door and walking out, “y/n! It’s a long walk let me drive you.” He calls, “Fuck off.” I shout back.

I feel like such an idiot.

2 weeks later

I found her instagram. A week ago she got back from the business trip, she posted a selfie of them captioned, ‘back home with my favourite man’ he is smiling, he has no right to smile. I don’t think he’s told her as she has been posting and yesterday she posted a photo of them together captioned, ‘movie night with the hubby’ I have to tell her.

I thought about dming her on insta about it, but then I thought. I’d rather show up to their house, not to cause dramatics but just so she can hear it from me and also get Matts reaction so she knows I’m not a liar.

It’s around 4pm and I leave, I walk to their house, it’s a good half hour walk but Matt gets home from work at 5pm. At 4:35 I get there. I breathe out harshly before knocking on their front door, after about 10 seconds the lock clicks and she opens the door.

Her auburn locks tied back into a messy bun, “How can I help you?” She smiles at me, I try to fight back tears even more at how kind she is but I think it’s evident in my face that I’m upset. “Lydia?” I ask, “That’s me? Who are you?” She looks awkwardly. “I need to talk to you about Matt, it’s really urgent can I come in?” Hoping she lets me in.

“Yes of course honey, is he okay?” She opens the door and leads me to the living room. We sit on the couch and she softly smiles at me, before I can get a word out I burst into tears, “Hey don’t cry what’s wrong?” She comforts me, “I’m so sorry..” I shake my head, “what for?” She seems more concerned.

“I’m gonna explain something but please let me finish before you say anything or respond okay?” I look at her, she nods nervously. “About a month ago I was at a club with my friends, getting drinks you know all that good stuff.” I sniffle, “My friend spots a group of attractive men so we walk over and start flirting, one of them pays a lot of attention to me and buys me a drink. He was very touchy and kind and we left the club together.”

Her expression hardens as she tries to understand what I’m saying, “He took me back to his house and we.. you know. But he rushed me home before 3am.. he had given me his number and we kept talking and meeting up, always between 11pm and 3am. He made sure I was gone before half 3 the latest.”

“I had many confusions, the ring on his ring finger, the woman products in his bathroom and everything but he made sure to tell me it was for the aesthetic and for any females he brought home.” I look up at her and I think she’s putting the pieces together as she has teary eyes.

“I was convinced he was single up until 2 weeks ago when I saw the picture in his dining room, that had been face down, he tried to tell me it was old but I had accidentally broken it when I saw what it was. It was your wedding photo..” I cry, she has tears running down her face.

“Lydia I am so sorry, I never would’ve talked to him if I knew he was married.. I feel terrible and it’s all because I liked a boy.. he doesn’t deserve to be called a man after everything he’s done, I told him to tell you when you came back from your trip or I would and he still didn’t.. I’m so sorry you had to find out this way.” I rub my eyes.

“I’m a home-wrecker.” I look down with so much guilt and regret, expecting her to shout at me or hit me, I wouldn’t be mad if she did. “I believe you.” She sighs, her tear stained cheeks not ruining her beauty and kind aura.

“What’s your name?” She asks me, “Y/n..” I sniffle, “You have every right to hate me but I promise on my mother’s grave that I didn’t know..” I look at her. “I don’t hate you, I hate him though, he told me he was cleaning the shelves and dropped the image, I saw that some of my soap had been used but I didn’t bring it up to him.” She’s very strong, I would be smashing things and screaming if I was in her position.

“We should wait until he’s back and I’ll tell him you came around and pretend you left. But then you can be in here and we can confront him.. sound like a plan?” She smiles softly but I can tell her heart is broken. I nod gently.

About half hour passes and he arrives home, she greets him at the door. “Hey my love, I missed you.” I could hear him say. “Hey darling, some girl came to the door about an hour ago.. what was her name again?” She spoke, “Y/n or something?” He responds with.. “I’ve never heard of her.” He rapidly spoke I saw him walk past the living room door. He didn’t see me.

“I never asked if you did, she just told me that she met you at a bar and you guys fucked.. is that true?” Lydia asks him calmly, “She must be delusional or confused, I’ve never been to a bar since our honeymoon.” He scoffs, “oh fair enough, can you grab the cups from the living room? I forgot to grab them from earlier.” She asks him.

“Yeah sure.” His voice gets closer, he freezes when he sees me sat on the couch. “Totally delusional.” I smirk, his expression is that of fear? “I forgot to say she’s still here.” Lydia walks up behind him, “Who are you?” He asks me, his lie is obvious. I scoff, “sit down Matt.” Lydia spoke angrily.

“Y/n told me everything and it all adds up, you’re a cheater!” She shouts at him, “I’m sorry it was only once it won’t happen again!” He scrunches his face up and puts his head into his hands. “You aren’t sorry for cheating.. you’re sorry that you got caught Matt.” I hiss, “I gave you a chance to tell hen and you didn’t.”

“Fuck you.” He growls at me, “don’t speak to her like that, would you have kept it a secret if she hadn’t told me? Continued to play happy families?” Lydia ask him, “I would’ve told you eventually..” he mumbles, “Oh yeah, when we would’ve had kids and been married long enough for it to be bad for them if we split? I want you to pack up and get the fuck out of my house.” She yells.

“Please Lydia..” he begs her. “Pack up or I’ll throw all your shit out.” She yells. “We’re getting a divorce and I’m taking the house key from you.” She shakes her head as he walks out the room. I hear him stomping around upstairs like a toddler having a tantrum.

“I’m sorry that this happened.” I stand up to her, she pulls me into a hug, “I’m glad you told me because he probably would’ve done it again, I’m not gonna go to work today now. Do you want me to drive you home once he’s left?” She smiles at me, “yeah okay thank you.” I reply.

A year later

It’s been a year since the whole situation, me and Lydia still talk, their divorce finalised a few months ago. He’s gone to therapy to try and become better and I hope he does.

I’m much more cautious when meeting new men, I stalk their socials and ask them questions. Usually they tell me if they’re in a relationship or if they’re single so that’s good.

I just hope he works on himself. Because he owes it to everyone honestly. Lydia said she would like to be friends with him once she’s got his shit together but she doesn’t want to take him back and that’s so valid. He just needs to get it sorted.

A/n: I like angst, this isn’t to be taken seriously yall I know Matt wouldn’t do this and nobody should do it but it’s for the story! Hope you enjoyed this!! Love y’all!🫶 anyone who wants to be on my taglist pls make sure ur settings r right so I can tag u!!

@blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @bueckerslover @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219 @mattsturniolosbae @h3arts4harry @littlebookworm803 @realqueenofpepsi @elsxz1 @jnkvivi @nayveetbhh @sturnsmadl @mattspleasure @m0r94n @raysmayhem-72 @flamethrower313 @carolinalikesthings @itssophiasstuff @joemamaaa42069

[dont-offend-the-bees]

We Glimpse Each Other Out of Phase

Hello lovelies; rough weekend, huh? I've had this one roughly drafted for a couple of weeks and was planning to keep it in my back pocket as a Deadboyween prompt fill. However, given the cancellation news, I think maybe we could all use a little gentle melancholy comfort right now. So I cleaned it up a bit, and I hope you will take this little snippet as the warm hug it is intended as 💛 So this technically follows on from/is set in the same universe as my Painland Week fic Something I Can Turn To. A fic which I basically intended to leave as a one shot, but I got quite invested in the universe and have been absolutely blown away by the response to it. So it became a collection which now features, as well as my own fic, two wonderful fics by williamvapespeare and one by Ingi, and I would heartily recommend you check them out if you enjoy this story or my original one! That being said, you probably CAN read this without having read the first story, I just wouldn't personally recommend it, you'll be missing a lot of context and backstory! 3.7k, rated T, also available on Ao3 (registered users only!) Part One (Something I Can Turn To) on tumblr

Charles may have had a bit of a rough go of it growing up, but there'd been quiet moments, too. Most of 'em in a rickety old attic, with the only lad in the entire world he could trust with just about anything.

But there were peaceful times at home, too. Safe ones. Mostly at night. Long as he was quiet, didn't cry too loud or stomp about, he could get through eight-ish hours unbothered. Sure, sometimes he had to pace around the room a bit, silent on sock feet just to shake out the excess energy that wouldn't let him sleep but honestly? He bloody loved sleeping. Couldn't get enough of it. Long as he didn't make a fuss, didn't draw attention, he could sink into his bed in the cellar room and just sort of... bob out of his life for a bit. Like a smoke break, but better for his health. If he was dead lucky, he'd even stumble into Edwin's arms in his dreams; pass the time there 'til morning, when it all kicked off again.

So it wasn't easy, getting used to night shifts. It was a fair trade-off for all the other freedom in his life lately but bloody hell, did it sting a bit, losing that time. That dark, quiet nothing where he could be nothing, too, just for a bit. There was almost something sacred about it. Something he hadn’t known was important to him ‘til it was gone.

At least the night shift was pretty quiet, usually. Most of the people who needed to use a gym at two in the morning weren't exactly there to socialise. Charles' job pretty much amounted to half-dozing at reception and handing someone a towel now and then. He'd not had many nutjobs to deal with or fires to put out.

Then again, maybe a good disaster was what he needed just to stay awake. Christ, he was shattered. Took him a good few tries to get the key in the lock when he finally staggered home.

Charles was sad — but not surprised — to find the kitchen light on when he fell through the door.

He rolled his eyes. "Honey," he called, jokingly, the endearment all funny and wrong on his tongue. He'd call Edwin a lot of things — mate, love, best friend, fucking soulmate — but honey? Mingin'. "I'm home."

Edwin's reply was half a second too slow — textbook Edwin guilt response. Like when your cat didn't jump off the counter fast enough to pretend it hadn't been there in the first place. "Good evening, Charles."

"Good morning, more like," said Charles, drawing the bolts — all three of them — across and dropping his bag in a sloppy heap by the door. His coat came next, then each shoe, leaving a trail behind him as he stumbled towards the voice. The hallway felt too short and dark to be called a hallway, really. Looked more like a cupboard where someone had shoved a load of loose doors they had lying around. There was one to the kitchen, one to the bathroom, one to the bedroom that was basically also their living room. Plus a bunch of other weird little cupboard doors and hatches and grates and things, none of which led to anything you’d logically expect them to. It was a shambles, really. A 'paint it magnolia and fob it off on the students' sort of ruin. But it was home. Even bone-tired, he still found the energy to lock gaze with the weird eye-motif lamp Edwin had picked up somewhere and put on one of the non-shelves, and give it his customary wink. Felt wrong not to. Unlucky, somehow.

A fanlike halo of yellow light spread across the hallway carpet as he pushed open the kitchen door. He found more or less what he'd expected to find behind it. Edwin: sat prim and proper at the scuffed-up little table, surrounded by books and doing a bang-up impression of someone with no bloody idea what time it was. His chin, tucked elegantly behind his curled knuckles in that little thoughtful pose of his, lifted at the sound of the door. His eyes found Charles and narrowed, just a little, sketching a pleased little crinkle or two at the corners.

"Charles," he greeted once again, voice softer this time. "How was your shift?"

Edwin hadn't had those laugh lines when Charles had met him. Seeing as he was twelve, and not exactly full of reasons to smile. Charles wasn't gonna take full credit for them, or anything, but... well, not many other people putting in the legwork, were there?

He dragged in a breath and let it out again, sharply, puffing it out in a raspberry. "Same old."

Charles crossed the kitchen in about three steps (it wasn't a big kitchen), clocking Edwin's book of choice on the way. Some textbook with a long-winded title that basically translated to lawyer gubbins. He put a hand on Edwin's shoulder — and Edwin tilted his head easily, offering his cheek for a kiss. Charles grinned and pressed one to the tail end of one of those little lines.

"Burning the midnight oil?" asked Charles, nicking one of Edwin's favourite expressions. He always seemed to pick up the ones that made him sound about a hundred years old.

Edwin hummed, carefully noncommittal. "I must have lost track of time."

"Could've counted these, for a start," said Charles, tapping the little saucer on the table. It was piled high with used teabags, like some damp and deranged game of Jenga. "Might've given you a clue."

"I've been rather busy," Edwin sniffed, turning the page in his book. "Lots of swotting to be done before my lecture on Monday."

"Right, that's what this is, is it?"

"What else would it be?"

Charles reached out, pinched the book Edwin was reading at the centre, and slid it out of the bigger, decoy book he was holding with its cover facing out. "Oldest trick in the book, mate. Literally," he grinned. He lifted Edwin's secret reading into his arms, having a flip through. "Y'know, most people only pull that move when they've got dirty mags to hide.”

Edwin cleared his throat. Even in the dim light of the table lamp, Charles clocked the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. "Well," he said, setting the law textbook he absolutely wasn't reading on the table. "It does get rather draining, this intensive focus on one subject. I felt the need for a brief diversion."

Charles closed the secret book, glancing at the cover. "Anthropology, again. Like that one, don't you?"

"Hm. There's much to explore; it encompasses a rather broad area of study." Edwin took it back and slid it, sheepishly, behind the pile of other law volumes stacked at his elbow. "It's a fascinating subject."

"Should've applied for it," said Charles, gentle. He rubbed Edwin's shoulder absently — getting a little more intent when he felt Edwin melt a bit, his knotted muscles loosening under Charles' digging thumb. "Or any of the other five million bloody things you're interested in. Y'know, 'stead of the one thing you're not."

"I am interested in it!" Edwin blustered.

Charles raised an eyebrow at him.

Edwin sighed. "I am," he said, bit quieter. "It's just not all I'd like to be doing. But it was the right choice, of that I'm quite certain."

Charles sighed and stepped around him, coming to lean on the table, arms crossed. Their eyes met across the short distance. "Look. If you say it's alright, it's alright. I'll believe you, mate, honest I will."

He nudged Edwin's toe with his own, sock to holey sock. "But, y'know. Not for nothing, but at school you was always going on about all that stuff you wanted to do. Bloody... archaeology in Peru, and whatever else. Just don't see how a law degree gets you there, is all."

Edwin leaned back in his chair a bit, steepling his fingers. "Well, no. No, it doesn't get me to Peru; or Pompeii, or Patagonia —"

"Or anywhere beginning with a 'p'," Charles teased.

Edwin's lips twitched up in a little smile. "But it will get us somewhere. A great many somewheres, I imagine. As degrees go, it opens rather a lot of doors."

Charles cocked his head, squinting fondly. "'Us'?"

"Obviously, Charles," said Edwin, with a dismissive wave of his hand. Like a reality where he didn't bring Charles wherever he went wasn't worth considering.

Charles grinned, ducking his head.

"I'm sure you'll chastise me for my cynicism," Edwin continued, oblivious to Charles and his soppy moment. "But... Well, given the somewhat rocky beginnings you and I have encountered in life, I thought it best to..."

"What? Play it safe?"

"Yes," said Edwin. Firm, unapologetic. "Exactly. Because I would very much like for both of us to be safe in life, Charles."

"We are! Well," Charles shrugged, scratching at his nose with a wince. Still ached a bit sometimes, all told, even though the break was years ago. "We are now."

"And I would like for it to stay that way."

"It will!" Charles half-perched on the table, and nudged Edwin's leg with his big toe. "I'll look after us, won't I?"

Edwin looked up at him, and his eyes softened. Fuck, but he had the kindest bloody eyes — least when he turned them on Charles he did. His hand landed on Charles' knee, gentle as you like; rubbing small circles with his thumb like Charles had done on his shoulders.

"You've done more than enough already, Charles," he said, looking him dead in the eye; not letting him hide for anything. "It's only fair I look after you, too, now and again. Especially when it's within my power to do so."

Charles laughed, a thin, hitching sort of thing. His eyes felt all prickly. Fuck, he couldn't go crying on him, now — his eyeliner'd smudge everywhere, it'd be so obvious.

"Look after me," he mimicked, catching Edwin's hand in his, stealing it all for himself. "You gimme a bloody reason to wake up in the morning, mate. What else d'you need?"

Edwin opened his mouth, brows going all scrunched up like they did at the start of a concerned lecture. Charles ducked in and shushed him quicksharp with a kiss.

"Not saying I'm about to, like, off myself if you chuck me, or anything," he laughed against his lips, fondness glowing in the grate of his ribs like smouldering coals. He chased the kiss with a smaller one, to the corner of Edwin's mouth; the scratchy dusting of his five o'clock shadow. "I'd just wallow about being proper depressed, so. Don't chuck me, please?"

Maybe he was clinging a little too hard for his tone of voice. Maybe he was giving it all away in the hands — always such desperate, grasping fucking things. Always his problem, the hands. How they grabbed things, hit things, did things before his brain always had the chance to catch up. How long 'til Edwin got sick of Charles hanging onto him like a life raft, dragging him down with his dead weight? How long 'til the bones in Edwin's hands started to creak from being clutched too tight?

But Edwin just scoffed, quietly — completely failing to hide that little spark of humour in his eyes. "I hardly think that's a possibility, Charles," he said, lifting his other hand to pat the back of Charles'. His soft fingertips kissed feather-light against Charles' grazed, calloused knuckles. "Honestly,” he sighed, dramatically. “Here I sit, talking about the devastatingly boring career I'm attempting to get off the ground in order to keep you in the manner to which you've become accustomed, and you think I'm about to chuck you."

He shook his head, crow’s feet crinkling and bloody hell. Charles loved him so much it felt overwhelming, sometimes. Like he needed a whole extra heart in his chest just to store it all.

Charles kissed Edwin's hand and flopped, happily, onto his lap, grinning at the mild ‘oof’ it shoved out of him. Grinning even wider when Edwin's other arm wrapped around Charles’ waist without a second thought. Edwin was a bit picky about personal space, for good reason — not with Charles, though. Charles had a standing invitation and he put it to bloody good use.

"Bet you could make a weird job work for you too, y'know," said Charles, dropping his next peck to Edwin's forehead as he sank into his lap. His head felt heavier already; only thing keeping him going was the effort of holding himself upright. Draped over Edwin like a blanket, he could've just dozed off right then and there. But the kitchen chair was creaking threateningly, so. Probably a bad idea. "I know the weird stuff's usually more competitive and that, but you're that smart. You'd run rings round the others, mate, get ahead of the game."

He flung his arms round Edwin's shoulders, scratched at the back of his head, the hair at his nape. It was a little longer than Edwin liked it. He needed a trim. So did Charles, really; his racing stripes had grown out and he kept having to blow stray curls out of his eyes. But they were saving their pennies any way they could. "You could go do something interesting, something a bit barmy," said Charles. "Something with a bit of adventure, yeah? Or at least where you get to have your nose in interesting books all day. You'd love that."

Edwin sighed, resting his cheek against Charles' shoulder as his eyes drifted shut. "That does sound compelling. But I've rather made my bed, Charles; I’ve no money coming in at all if I don’t study for it. And it is interesting, in moderation. Besides, it..."

"What?"

"It seems... like a decent thing to do." The warm weight of Edwin's arm squeezed Charles' waist. "Something I could do a modicum of good with."

Charles heard a rustle, and glanced over his shoulder. Edwin's other hand was flicking through the law book on the table, clever fingers finding the module he wanted without even checking the contents. Charles had to squint at it a moment, his exhausted eyes skittering off the page. He thought he saw 'human' and 'rights' in that word soup of a title.

He softened. "Eds..."

"I merely thought..." Edwin made a little noise of frustration in his throat, angling his face further into Charles. Speaking so soft it almost got lost in his skin, words lodging small and timid in his bones. "So many years, Charles. Trapped at the mercy of other people, no one caring if we lived or died, I... I could do something about it. Learn the right words to say, the right arguments, the right resources. So no one else need..."

Sometimes it fucking killed Charles, that there were people out there who thought Edwin was some... some selfish, spoiled rich toff with no feelings. As if he wasn't the kindest bloody person in the world; as if he hadn't had to carve that kindness out himself with his bare, bleeding hands.

Edwin sniffed. “It was just an idea,” he mumbled. “A silly idea.”

Charles shook his head, stroked Edwin's hair. "S'not a silly idea, love. Not silly at all."

Edwin never struggled to find his words like this — and he definitely didn’t mumble them. Words were his weapons, and he could go toe-to-toe with the best of 'em, talk bloody circles 'round his opponents.

Charles looked from him to the stack of books, the tower of teabags. The plastic clock on the wall, its hands marching on into the morning.

"Aw, mate," he said, rubbing the back of Edwin's neck — and dropping a kiss to the top of his head. "You're dead on your feet, in’t you?"

"I'm perfectly fine," Edwin grumbled. "And I've tests to study for —"

"Tests in subjects you're not bloody taking? Yeah, right." Charles bit his lip, cuddling Edwin's head against his chest. "Can't sleep, can you?"

Edwin was quiet a moment, breathing nice and steady into Charles' throat.

"It's still... difficult," he said.

Three door bolts and four hundred miles was a start, but bad memories had a way of following you about. Charles closed his eyes and breathed in, nice and slow; hoping Edwin could feel it in his chest, find a nice rhythm in his rising ribs.

"Edwin," he said, nuzzling into his hair. "On my life, mate — one of these days, you and me are gonna be so bloody set you'll be able to do whatever you want. Go back to uni fifty times, hundred times, don't care. Study for the rest of your life, if you want.” He tapped Edwin’s temple. “Cram everything that's ever interested you in that big brain of yours. Promise you."

It shouldn't've felt like taking a bloody knight's oath, whispered words at the kitchen table at stupid o'clock in the morning. But Christ, he'd fought off enough dragons to get ‘em here, hadn’t he?

He felt Edwin's smile against his skin, followed by the little dry brush of his kiss. "You could, too. If you liked," he said. "Get your A-levels, apply for university..."

Charles laughed, shaking his head. "Not sure I could keep up."

"Charles," Edwin admonished, in that stern teacher voice that was cuter (and fitter) than it had any right to be. "You're exceptionally bright."

"Ah, come on, mate," Charles mumbled, squirming. Edwin's arm round his waist locked as if it could sense an escape attempt incoming.

"You are. I remember your grades, before... well. Everything that occurred." He smoothed down the collar of Charles' fuck-ugly work shirt. "It's hardly your fault your final years went awry as they did. You could go back, take some courses at the local college. Try again."

"Right, sure."

Edwin huffed, frustrated. "I'm being quite serious, in the event that wasn't obvious."

"When aren't you?" Charles chuckled. He stared at the wall, at the stupid fucking boyband calendar their kooky upstairs neighbour gave Edwin for Christmas. Most of the writing on it was Edwin's, neat and tiny, scheduling tests and lectures and study blocks. Most of Charles' additions were just the word 'WORK', scribbled in on scattered days — more so Edwin knew when he was coming and going, rather than for his own benefit. Always different days, different times. Shift work; no chance to form a routine. He was never great at that, anyway.

"Not even sure what I'd do," he mumbled.

Edwin's palm on Charles' waist rubbed, soothing, grounding. "You never had something you wanted to study?" he asked. "Something you wanted to go into?"

"I..." His brow furrowed. It was so hard to think, sometimes. About times before now. Like all those bloody miserable years just blended into this mush of dread and misery. "I dunno what I wanted," he admitted. "Couldn't... couldn't think that far ahead, could I? I just wanted my mum to be alright. Wanted my dad to think I was worth something. Wanted not to hurt anymore."

He sniffed, and laughed, a watery sort of sound. His arm around Edwin's shoulders squeezed.

"Only thing I ever wanted and got back then was you," he said, flippant, like it didn't really matter. 'Cause it didn't really, did it? Wasn't some big confession or anything. Some deep, dark secret. Edwin knew. They both knew.

But Edwin breathed in sharply, a little ragged round the edges, so maybe he needed reminding now and again. "Charles..."

"Fuck," Charles chuckled, releasing Edwin so he could lean back and rub his eyes — so Edwin wouldn’t have his ear to Charles’ heart when it started beating too fast. "I'm shattered, mate. Dunno what I'm even saying anymore, do I?"

Maybe one of these days, he’d stop being too scared of the fucking size of his own feelings to sit with them a moment.

Maybe they both would.

Edwin sighed, pulling his hand from Charles' waist to pinch at the bridge of his own nose. "I suppose it has gotten rather late." He glanced at the clock, and winced. "Early. You should go and sleep. I'm sure you've had a long day."

Charles hummed, leaving his nice warm spot in Edwin's lap — but his hands didn't leave his shoulders. "C'mon, then," he mumbled, giving them a squeeze. "Bed."

"Better to go without me. I shan't sleep tonight."

"Didn't say anything about sleeping, now, did I?"

Edwin raised his eyebrow.

Charles' brain caught up to his mouth, and he laughed. "Ah — love to, darlin', but. Yeah, seriously, I'm fucking knackered. I meant, like — let's just have a bit of a cuddle, yeah?" He tugged at Edwin's collar where it poked out of his nice green jumper. It was a little crooked — Edwin must've really got into a study groove and unfastened a button or two. Fit as. "I proper fancy a cuddle."

"I'll be restless," said Edwin, all apologetic. "I'll only keep you awake."

Charles hummed, picking up the anthropology textbook and holding it out.

"Keep on reading, then," he said, giving Edwin the big, hopeful eyes he bloody knew he could never say no to. "Just... come read to me instead, yeah?"

Edwin had another dramatic sigh, like it was all such a big ask. He ought to tell that to his fucking smile lines. He took the book — and Charles' hand. "Well. I suppose I can manage that."

~

Charles didn't know how long Edwin stayed awake, in the end. Could've been hours for all he knew, he'd have had no idea — Charles had been asleep in bloody seconds. Head pillowed on Edwin's shoulder, that gorgeous voice rattling off dry old text blocks and making them sound like spoken-word lullabies... how could he resist?

All he knew was when he woke up, it was eleven in the morning, the sun was slanting through the crooked blinds; and Edwin was snoring softly underneath him. His hair a mess, his textbook open on his chest. His arm a slack, warm weight around Charles' shoulders.

Charles smiled, rubbed his dry eyes — forgot to scrub off his eyeliner before he konked out, again. Classic — and settled back in, nestling safe and sound into the the crook of Edwin's arm. Fuck it. It was Saturday. He'd asked Crystal to pick up his shift today, anyway, so him and Edwin could get a little quality time in.

If all they did with that time was sleep, well. Time well spent, innit? It wasn't like a smoke break from life when he did it with Edwin, anyway.

More like... stepping back to enjoy the view.

~~

Thanks for reading my loves, I hope it soothed the ache somewhat 💛 This has been a strange little one because I've essentially had to take something I very much wrote as a one-shot, and build onto what I established. When I wrote that first one-shot I didn't even have a clear idea in my mind for what Edwin was studying or anything! So things will likely change and grow and develop and who knows where we'll end up, but it's nice to see the lads figuring it out alongside me ^_^ Thanks for reading guys! It's been a bit of a long silence from me since Painland Week ended but I promise I'm working on stuff, including the next chapter of Lonely Bones! Regardless of what has happened to the show or whether it gets picked up or not, my plan is to keep writing and creating for it for as long as it sparks joy to do so - and seeing as I've made some amazing friends in this fandom, I think I'm gonna be here a while! I sure hope you guys are, too 💛 (p.s. if you are over 18, trustworthy with semi-secret identities, and like weird rarepair smut, feel free to DM me for my side Ao3 that I'm sure will be getting some action over the next few months xD)

[ziggy-strdust]

New Year’s Kiss

“Blasty!” a blur of pink rockets into Bakugo’s arms nearly knocking him over. Stumbling some steps back he’s able to keep them both up. “I didn’t think you would actually show up, you are pushing it a little close aren’t you?” 

“What the fuck racoon eyes.” Shouting at her and shoving her off of him. “You trying to knock me on my ass?” Making his way into the kitchen ignoring all of the other people around. Mina chatters away behind him. Grabbing a solo cup from the table he fills it with the closest liquor. Tossing that back he immediately follows it with another before filling his cup with whatever concoction the punch is made of. Leaning against the counter he observes the room. Jiro is fiddling with some DJ equipment, Momo is next to her. Those two seem to be chatting with each other. Sero and Todoroki are standing in a corner, from this angle you can definitely see that they are shoving their tongues down the others' throat. Loud laughter filters over the music. Looking in the direction of the laughter, Bakugo’s breath catches. Kirishima and Denki seem to be in a rousing game of beer pong against Tetsutetsu and Shinsou. From the look of Denki he already looks unsteady and nearly topples over when throwing the ball. Kirishima is laughing at him as he trips, missing the cups and hitting Monoma in the face. Shaking his head, Bakugo heads over to the idiots. 

“Holy shit look who decided to actually show up.” Denki loudly exclaims when he catches sight of him. Sending him a glare that would kill, he sips his drink not saying anything. 

“Hey bro, want a shot?” Kirishima holds out the ball. 

“Hell yeah watch and learn fuckers.” Taking the ball Bakugo lines up his shot and right when he is about to release Mina is suddenly announcing that there is only 5 minutes till midnight so they should either be finding their other halves or be finding someone to kiss. Denki smirks at Shinsou who blushes up to his hairline. Monoma grabs Tetsu’s arm, dragging him away before he could protest. Mina runs over to the group, grabbing Kiri’s arm and pulling him away.

At that moment Bakugo’s heart felt like it was going to shatter. No you idiot of course those two had already paired off. What did you think? That he would actually like you. Yeah Mr. Sunshine wants to totally kiss Mr. Doom and Destruction. Don’t be stupid. His eyes blur as he stares down at his cup. Fuck this party. Making his way back to the kitchen he trades his cup for one of the bottles of whiskey sitting on the table. Looking down at it, it’s only half full shrugging, that will be enough to take some of the edge off hopefully. Making his way to the closest bathroom he passes what seems to be all the couples possible. 

Midoriya sees where he is heading. A worried frown comes over his face, he goes to follow him, but is stopped by Iida tapping his shoulder politely asking if he would be his New Year’s kiss. Blushing, he accepts making a mental note to go find Kacchan after the kiss. He looks around for Kirishima or someone else from the Bakusquad. Not catching any of them alone he becomes slightly more worried. Confusion quickly takes over when he spots Mina and Kirishima together. Kirishma had been trying forever to ask Bakugo out. He had given Kiri the advice to test the waters tonight. As he goes to move towards him he sees Kiri frantically looking around the room seemingly searching for someone. Mina looks a little concerned as well. Midoriya even more confused makes eye contact with Kiri raising an eyebrow asking what’s wrong, Kiri does Bakugo’s signature posture. Then it all clicks, Mina was just encouraging him, she wasn’t trying to steal Kiri. Oh shit Kachaan doesn’t know that though. Fuck this isn’g good. Gesturing towards the bathroom he shoos him along. As Kiri rushes past him he grabs his arm, “You better explain to him. He grabbed a bottle before he went that way. I know he is probably confused right now so take it easy on him.” Nodding Kiri heads down the hall to the bathroom. Meanwhile Bakugo is chugging from the bottle in his hand. You have no right to be upset, you aren’t together now matter how much you want to be. You aren’t good enough for him. She is perfect. They are made for each other. She is funny, happy, friendly, and the biggest thing. She’s a girl. You will never be good enough. You are angry all the time. He will just get tired of your attitude. The most heartbreaking laugh escapes his lips. Fuck. I just want him. Lifting the bottle back up to his lips he tips it back. Draining the last of the bottle anger suddenly overrides everything else. Drawing his arm back, he chucks the bottle across the bathroom at the opposite wall next to the door. The bottle makes contact and shatters into hundreds of pieces. At the exact moment his facade shatters and the tears are running hot and fast down his face. Sobs shake his whole body. The loneliness of the situation hits him full force. He was alone, it seemed like everyone had someone and he had no one. He was sitting on the nasty bathroom floor when the countdown started. 10…..9…..8…..fuck this year……6……5……4…….3……2……At that moment the door flew open and there stood Kirishima. Scrubbing his hands down his face he tried to wipe away the tears before Kiri would see them. Kirishima rushes forward cupping his face. Confused Bakugo goes to ask him what the hell is he doing but he is cut off by a pair of lips pressing against his. Mind blanking he kisses back with everything in his soul. Trying to pour every emotion into the kiss. The confusion, the hurt, the want. As they part to catch their breath, Kirishima whispers, “Happy New Year’s Katsuki.” A grin spreads across his without his permission. Well maybe he was wrong again, maybe this year won’t suck as much as he thought. 

[w2soneshots]

Lingerie -Angry ginge

words: 0.6k+

warnings: basically no plot just smut, head (fem rec), protected sex, aftercare.

summary: you surprise your boyfriend with a new outfit, that quickly leads to you having a very fun night.

notes: my angry ginge crush is back my loves🤭. I had some ask for a full ginge smut after I made my recent w2s one so here we go! Enjoy❤️‍🔥🫶🏼

"Hey, babe?" I called quietly as I walked into mine and Morgan's shared bedroom. He sat on the bed, back leaning against the headboard. "Mhm?" He looked up at me and his mouth dropped open slightly, eyes widening. I wore my brand new black lace lingerie bodysuit and nothing else. His eyes scanned my body. "Get over here now." He grumbled and I quickly obeyed, crawling onto the bed and up to him.

I sat on his lap, hands naturally going up to rake through the hair at the back of his head. "What did I do to deserve you?" He asked rhetorically. I smiled then slowly lent down to press a gentle, loving kiss to his lips. His hand moved to the back of my neck, pulling me into him and deepening the kiss. I pressed myself into his lap making him groan, my eyes fluttered shut. I pulled at his shirt and he pulled it over his head. His hands firmly gripped my waist.

I could feel his hard dick against my clothed cunt and I immediately became wet. Letting out a soft moan as I was suddenly very needy. "I've got you baby, let's get this off. Mm?" He whispered. I nodded slowly, keeping eye contact. Slowly he pulled down the thin straps then he yanked the stretchy fabric down so that it sat at my waist. I lifted my body up so he could remove it the rest of the way. I was now completely naked.

Morgan moved us so that he was on top, slowly making his way down until he reached the place I needed him most. He kissed the inside of each of my thighs before attacking my dripping wet pussy. I threw my head back in pleasure as my fingers intertwined in his hair, my other gripping the white cotton sheets. "Fuc-k" I stuttered out as his tongue circled my clit. His finger swiped up my folds; collecting my juices. I gasped as he slowly inserted one finger. My back arched off the bed.

I pulled him up towards me desperately. "Let me feel you." I whined. He stood from the bed, his pants were off in seconds then he grabbed a condom from our bedside table. He climbed on top of me. Then swiftly ripped the condom packet open with his teeth as he held himself up using his forearm. He pressed a long kiss to my lips as he inserted his throbbing dick into me. My mouth hung open as his forehead pressed onto mine.

He groaned loudly as he bottomed out. "Move, Morgan, move!" I whined, our lips brushing. He quickly began thrusting his hips. The room filled with loud, erotic moans and the sound of our skin slapping together. His hand traveled between our bodies and it landed on my clit. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. "Oh my- Morgan!" He peppered kisses down my neck, sucking on the skin, leaving a mark.

As I approached my orgasm my body began shaking. "I'm- I'm gonna." "Come on my cock, y/n." He husked, pushing me over the edge. I saw black as my orgasm shattered through my body. Morgan road me through it as he was also extremely close. My walls clenched around his cock and that was it. He let out a breathy moan as his body fell onto mine.

Both of us caught our breath as he pulled out, flopping down next to me. After a moment he got up walking to the bathroom. He returned with a wet rag, covered in warm water. Gently he cleaned me up. I was completely fucked out, in a state of complete bliss.

Once I was clean he helped me into one of his shirts after putting some boxers on himself. We both got under the covers and he pulled me into his chest. "I love you so much, y/n." He whispered softly, kissing the top of my head. "I love you too." I replied before slowly drifting into a deep sleep.

[lets-just-daydream]

I Loved You First

Chapter 4: Hearts, Rings, Lips

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

It didn't surprise you in the least that Astarion had avoided you since your kiss on the night of Cazador's party. Part of you had hoped to run into him and part of you dreaded what might happen if you did.

You wandered down for breakfast a couple of mornings after the party, your mind miles away as you thought about Astarion, the feeling of his lips on yours and his fingers on your skin.

You sat down and picked at your breakfast, your parents noticing your new demeanor, the slight tinge to your cheeks and small smile on your lips.

“Good morning,” your mother greeted with a knowing smile. “How are you?”

“Good,” you replied with a smile. “Where's Lord Cazador?”

“He said he had some work to take care of, I believe,” your father said.

“Asking after Lord Cazador, hm?” Your mother cooked. “Is he behind that smile and blush?”

Your eyes snapped up and you touched your fingers to your cheek. Of course he wasn't. There was no way. And there was no way you could ever tell your parents the truth. You just looked down at your lap and gulped, not knowing what to say.

“Oh, she's so bashful,” your mother said with a giddy laugh.

“I do believe he's intending to propose in these next few days,” your father said.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than you had dropped your fork with a loud clatter, causing their conversation to pause and even for the servants to look at you curiously.

“S-so soon?” You stuttered, fear and anger filling your body. “Excuse me.”

You rose from your seat and walked quickly out of the dining room, straight up to your room and slamming the door behind you.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You swore, grabbing the brush on your bedside table and hurling it across the room.

It landed with a crash against the mirror and caused it to shatter, the glass falling to the floor.

“Ugh, fuck…” You muttered to yourself as you grabbed the wood bucket by the fireplace and bent down to begin cleaning the glass up.

The door to your room opened hastily and footsteps came quickly to join you on the ground. You didn't have to turn to look to know who it was. His scent was familiar, comforting, intoxicating…

“What happened? Are you alright?” Astarion asked as he inspected the damage.

You angrily grabbed at the pieces of glass and dropped them into the bucket. “I'm just great.”

You reached for a large shard and upon grabbing it, it sliced your finger open, blood spilling out of the cut.

“Ow!” You cried as you dropped the glass, cradling your hand to your chest before inspecting the damage.

“Your hand…” Astarion hesitated, staring at the blood that began to pool in the palm of your hand.

“Just great,” you groaned as you stood to your feet and quickly entered the bathroom. “No fucking water, either.”

“Hold on,” Astarion said as he approached you and took your hand in his. “Let me help you.”

Astarion took another moment, staring at your bloodied fingers, licking his lips hungrily before he seemed to snap out of it and begin filling a wash bucket with water. You squinted at him in confusion as he moved. You could swear his eyes dilated as he inspected the blood, the way he licked his lips and had to pull away.

“Astarion,” you said.

“Hm?” He hummed as he came with the full bucket.

“What is happening here?”

Astarion raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“This whole palace, it's strange. Cazador is strange. You're strange, Violet is strange and just about every other servant here is… strange.”

Astarion gulped. “H-how do you mean?”

“I mean that you're hiding something from me. I know there's more to Cazador than meets the eye but I just don't know what. It's driving me mad.”

Astarion looked at you, his expression a moisture of fear and longing. “I wish I could tell you.”

“Then tell me, please!” You pleaded. “Am I to live my life in some shadow of mystery?”

Astarion sighed and looked to the door of your room. “It's… It's complicated. If I tell you, you'll never look at Cazador the same, or look at me the same for that matter.”

“Astarion…” You said softly, raising your fingers to his cheek. “I don't think there's much you could tell me that would change my mind about you.”

“That's a very dangerous thing to say,” Astarion chuckled.

“I mean it… I just wish we were under different circumstances,” you said. “But, please be honest with me. What is happening in Szarr Palace?”

Astarion huffed out a sigh. “I promise I'll tell you, but not today. Give me some time.”

You wanted to let out a frustrated groan but held it in. You had a promise of answers. When they would come, you didn't know but you were grateful to Astarion.

“About the other night…” You began.

“I was a fool and I should have known better.”

Hurt pricked at your heart. “No, I-”

“Please, just acknowledge that it was a mistake and let it go,” Astarion hissed.

You clammed your lips shut and looked down at the ground, pressing your lips together. You could feel the tears threatening to well in your eyes but you inhaled deeply and held it together.

He grabbed hold of your bloody arm and dipped it into the cool water. Reaching for a washcloth, Astarion gently cleaned your finger and washed the blood off before he left you for a moment. He came back with a clean rag and dried your hand before wrapping it.

“Look after that. And don't touch the glass. I'll clean it up, don't want you hurting yourself again,” Astarion said with a hint of something that felt like he was reprimanding you.

“I think you're forgetting your place,” you snapped, glowering at him. “I am a guest in this house, very likely due to be married to Lord Cazador and I don't like your tone.”

Astarion’s expression flashed with hurt before he adjusted and offered you a respectful smile. “Of course, my lady. My sincerest apologies.”

You froze at the reappearance of the formalities. “No-”

“Please do take care of your wound and I will arrange for the glass to be cleaned,” Astarion said, his voice unexpectedly thick.

With that, he turned and left the room.

Your eyes slid shut and you scrunched your face in frustration. “Stupid…” You whispered to yourself.

Of course you didn't mean it. You were just sick of the whiplash Astarion's actions were giving you and in your frustration you had snapped at him in the most horrible way imaginable. You wanted to run after him and apologise but you thought it best to give him some space before approaching him.

You left your room, the air feeling stifling and made your way to the library instead with your borrowed book in hand. You needed some time to disconnect from what was happening around you, forget about your doomed fate with Cazador and forget about Astarion.

You plopped yourself into the armchair under the candelabra and opened the book to your saved page, inspecting the scrap of paper with the curious writing on it.

Whatever.

You were here to read.

You skimmed the page and found where you'd left off, gulping as you remembered why you'd stopped reading. It wasn't like it was your first time reading a smutty book but reading a borrowed smutty book in someone else's house was new. You didn't see anyone else in here when you arrived but nonetheless you glanced around the room to make sure you were definitely alone before starting.

You read about the secret tryst of the main characters, how the woman submitted her mind and body to her secret lover, how he lavished her with attention and love in lusty detail. It was enough to make you feel hot under the collar and before you knew it, you felt arousal pull at your core. You nearly lowered your hand to give yourself some relief but you caught yourself as you remembered where you were.

This was too much and you slipped the paper between the pages and snapped the book shut. You let out a sigh and wondered if Cazador had actually read this book himself. You shuddered at the thought and then wondered the same thing about Astarion. Had he read many of these? Did he like romance books? You could imagine him lounging in a chair with a book in one hand, the other hand slowly inching lower to offer himself his own relief. You hummed at the thought, your core pulsing before you could catch your perverted mind and its active imagination.

You stood abruptly and hurried out of the library before you could embarrass yourself any further.

The days trickled by at Szarr Palace and with each day that inched closer to week's end, you felt anxiety bubble in your stomach. You couldn't eat, you couldn't drink, you could hardly muster the energy to drag yourself out of bed. Of course everyone noticed and Cazador had graciously sent for a healer to examine you. The finest in the city, of course.

“I don't see anything that ails you, my lady. You are the picture of health,” she had said.

Your parents and Cazador who stood near your bedside by the door breathed unanimous sighs of relief.

“But the way your face pales when food is offered to you and the fact that you can't eat much. I believe this to be an ailment of the mind. I may be able to find a scroll of detect thoughts - at an additional charge,” she said, turning to Cazador. “And we may be able to get to the bottom of this.”

“No!” You cried sitting up. “No, no. Thank you but I think I'll be fine.”

The healer nodded. Your parents eyed you curiously. Cazador watched as you fidgeted with the sheets. If anyone could read your thoughts… You were certain your life would be over, perhaps Cazador would fire Astarion and you'd ruin his life.

No. You couldn't bear it. You just had to deal with this like countless ladies before you and countless ladies after you. But you were almost certain their new homes and new husbands didn't keep unsettling secrets from them.

The following morning you managed to pull yourself out of bed and dress, not bothering with a bath, trying your best to tame your hair into something manageable and looking presentable. You looked into the now repaired mirror and didn't see a lady looking back at you. You saw someone on edge and afraid. You hated it but that was that.

Your parents had sealed your fate, Cazador obviously liked you enough to have you stay for these few weeks and doted upon you. You still couldn't get Astarion out of your mind no matter how hard you had tried to bond with Cazador, how much you had tried to laugh at his jokes and listen about the work he was doing for the city. It was especially difficult if Astarion was in the room, standing by. You'd glance up at him and he would already be looking at you before quickly averting his gaze.

You longed to feel his skin on yours again, his cool lips pressed against yours and his whispers against your skin. The kiss you had shared was brief but that just made you crave him all the more.

You finally made it to the dining room for breakfast and took your seat as offered by Cazador. Apart from the uneasiness of not knowing what he was hiding from you, he was a gentleman by all means. But he wasn't Astarion. He didn't stir your heart or invade your mind day and night unless it was in fear of a proposal.

“Good morning, my sweet lady,” Cazador greeted, still standing behind your chair.

“Good morning, my lord.”

Your parents sat opposite you eating their meals and you noticed that every servant lined the walls of the dark dining room this morning. Was Cazador expecting more guests?

“I hope you've enjoyed your time here thus far at Szarr Palace,” Cazador said, but you knew it was a question.

“My lord has been very welcoming,” you replied, your heart starting to beat faster. “This palace is… a dream.”

You locked eyes with Astarion who looked like he was almost glaring at Cazador. He had nothing but absolute hate in his eyes and you frowned as you wondered why he seemed to dislike him so much. You recalled the night of the party when he had called Cazador his master. What that meant, you had no idea but you were sure it was a piece of this convoluted puzzle.

You looked up at Cazador who was already smiling down at you. He moved beside your seat and knelt down beside you. Your eyes widened, your heart beat so rapidly in your chest you were certain it was about to break free. You glanced at your parents who had wide grins on their faces. You glanced at Astarion whose expression had turned to pure, unadulterated hatred.

You looked back down at Cazador who now held a silver ring in his hand, a ruby encrusted in the middle of it. The ring was an odd shape, almost resembling a crown but the middle past the ruby dipping down like a dagger.

“Would my lady do me the honour of becoming my wife?” Cazador asked, his lips in a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

You froze at his question and took deep breaths, your hands shook and your heart raced. You couldn't say yes. You couldn't say no. You couldn't just sit here forever as everyone stared at you, either.

“L-Lord Cazador,” you finally stammered with a nervous laugh. “You surprise me.”

“Tsk. Surely not,” Cazador said with a grin.

Well. He was right.

“I-I…”

It seemed as though time stood still while everybody waited with bated breath for your answer.

“Do I have to answer now?” You asked, wincing.

Cazador raised his brows in surprise but offered you a practiced smile nonetheless. “Of course not. This is one of the biggest decisions in your life, please take your time. But not too long, my heart couldn't take it,” Cazador said, taking your hand and pressing a cool kiss to the back of it.

You watched as Cazador then stood and left the room without another word. You hazarded a glance at your parents who looked like they might lunge across the table and rip you to pieces.

“Foolish child,” your mother seethed. “What is wrong with you?!”

You glanced down at the untouched plate of food in front of you and shrugged slightly. “I don't know,” you whispered.

“He'll cast us out before day's end, you mark my words!” She barked.

“I didn't say no!” You countered. “I just need to gather my thoughts before I say yes.”

Your parents' expressions softened. “So you will say yes?” Your father asked.

“Well I don't have a choice, do I?” You asked glumly as you slouched in your seat and picked at your breakfast.

You felt an intense pair of eyes on you and you looked up to see Astarion staring at you with an intense, smouldering gaze.

Without eating a bite, you rose from your seat without excusing yourself and left the room. You went back to your room, pulled the curtains shut and sat on your bed in the dark, leaning against the ornate wooden headboard. You pulled your knees up and rested your arms on them, your head dropping down and staring at your lap.

You'd have to say yes. Of course you would. You had no choice in the matter so why even delay it at all? No tears fell as you lamented, sure you'd done enough crying over the last few days to last a lifetime.

Your ears perked at the sounds of footsteps outside your doorway, followed by a knock at the door.

“It's me,” your mother's voice filtered through.

You said nothing, hoping she would take the hint and go away. This was her fault. This was your father's fault and you resented them both.

After a moment you heard a muffled grumble as the footsteps retreated.

You were thankful that for the rest of the day, no one came to bother except for one of Cazador's servants to deliver you some lunch before leaving wordlessly. You didn't acknowledge them and you did not touch the tray of food, choosing to sit in silence as you had been.

A few hours later there was another knock on your door and you leaned your head against the headboard and let out a sigh. This time whoever was on the other side didn't wait for a response and opened the door. You didn't acknowledge who had entered your room, hoping that they would leave soon.

“Well you're certainly the talk of the palace,” Astarion said as he stepped into your room and closed the door behind him.

“Hm.”

Astarion's expression faltered and he approached your bedside slowly. “I wanted to come and see how you're faring.”

You scoffed. “I'm just great.”

Astarion pursed his lips and sat on the edge of your bed, the mattress dipping catching your attention. “Look about the other day, after what we both said…”

“Forget about it,” you said dimly. “You were right, I was being stupid. I'm going to marry Cazador anyway and that's that.”

Astarion leaned closer to you and took one of your hands in his. “You're really going to say yes?”

“What other choice do I have?! You were all there when my parents laid into me how foolish I am,” you said as your voice went thick with sadness. “I've tried to find love elsewhere. You think I'd be here otherwise? This was a last resort and I knew that.”

“And have you found it? Love, I mean,” Astarion asked.

You sighed, of course you had. But it wasn't with Cazador.

“I know you have,” Astarion whispered, his face now very close to yours as he climbed up and sat next to you.

Astarion's face was now so close that you felt his breath on your skin. His eyes shone and his smooth skin almost glowed from the slivers of moonlight that filtered past the edge of the curtains. “Don't marry him.”

“I-” You managed to get out one syllable before Astarion crashed his lips against yours.

One of your hands gripped his shirt and the other snaked up his neck and rested in his curls. Astarion placed a hand on the nape of your neck and held you close to him, not about to let you go.

His lips engulfed you and you couldn't help the whimper that escaped you. His teeth were sharp but gods you did not mind one bit as you parted your lips to grant him all the access he wanted, his tongue slipping past and licking at your lips lightly.

You fisted his hair and he groaned, now leaning over you and caging your body under his. You parted your legs and he nestled himself against you as his free hand ran up the side of your body, his mouth never leaving yours.

You eventually pulled back reluctantly, gasping for air. In your pause you stared at Astarion and he wore a smirk that went straight to your core. He lowered himself and kissed you once more before finally pulling away.

“Astarion,” you breathed.

He pressed his thumb to your swollen lower lip and brushed his finger against it, that smirk never leaving his face.

“I could do that forever, you know,” he said softly.

You nodded in agreement and you wished that you could just lay here with Astarion all night. You wished you could forget about Cazador and your damned duties and expectations but now you had come back down to earth.

“I don't want to be with him,” you whispered.

Astarion shifted to stroke your cheek, his body still blanketing yours. “I know you don't, darling. I don't want you to marry him, either. Selfish as I am.”

You paused and remembered the moment that he'd proposed. “I saw how you were looking at him earlier, like you wanted to kill him. Why?” You asked.

“Many reasons,” Astarion sighed as he finally sat up. “I'll explain in due time.”

You rolled your eyes at his never ending evasion to date your curiosity.

“As much as I hate to leave you, love,” Astarion said as he took your hand and pressed an opened mouthed kiss to your palm as he leveled you with a sultry gaze. “I do have to leave. Will you be down for dinner?”

You nodded dumbly as Astarion pulled away and straightened his clothes before giving you one last look and departing your room.

As soon as he left you kicked your feet and couldn't help the giggle that bubbled from your lips. That kiss… Astarion's insistence that he didn't want you to marry Cazador. Did he… also love you? Your body flushed at the thought. But a dark shadow still ate at your heart where you knew you couldn't just be happy with him. Where you'd have to say yes to Cazador.

You wondered what it would be like if you said yes, gave in to all the pressure and just dealt with it. How would Astarion take it? How would your own heart take it? It pained you to think about it but that was the reality of it. You knew what you had to do, what you had to say.

You just hoped Astarion would forgive you.

Part 5

[silverdelirium]

hii!

idk if ur request are still open but if they are, could you write something with the marauders?? maybe dilf!sirius or stripper!reader?? (only if you’re confortable with it!)

btw i loved your theo smut😭<3

STRIP CLUB | S.B

ty baby<3

summary: your best friend’s dad finds you working at a strip club.

warnings: small sir kink, squirting, oral ( female receiving ), fingering, bit of drinking at the start, small degrading, praising.

———

sirius needed a drink and he needed it now.

he didn’t even acknowledge what club he stumbled on, but from the view it gave, they had alcohol. and that’s all that mattered to sirius. he needed to wash away all stress, rage, and irritation from today; and what better way to do it than getting drunk?

“one firewhiskey” he demanded once he settled on the barstool at the bar. the young bartender giving a quick nod and getting to work.

it was then that sirius had a chance to look around, the place was cluttered with people. loud chatter almost drowning out the music. he realized everyone’s sight was settled onto the centre of the room.

sirius craned his neck to get a good look at what seemed to be catching everyone’s interest.

ah, he thought.

this is a strip club.

he hummed in acknowledgement when the bartender placed his drink in front of him, whisking it away and walking closer to the scene as the alcohol burned his throat, a low vibration bubbled from his chest at the taste, already getting rid of all that pent up tension in his muscles.

the atmosphere in the club had suddenly changed when sirius finished his drink. everyone went quiet before cheering loudly when two beautiful women stepped on the stage. the one at the right had red lingerie on, hugging her body in all the right places. her bronze skin seemed to compliment the colour of her attire and her long dark hair moved in rhythm with her movements. the one at the left had a pink with a black corset on, a small thong leaving little to the imagination. sirius eyes travelled from her smooth legs to her defined waist, to her pushed up cleavage and to her- face.

the realization came crashing down on sirius like a bucket of cold water.

there you were. his daughter’s best friend all dolled up dancing to the beat of the music around the pole. and he silently cursed himself for getting hard at the same little girl that visits his house every weekend. did you always go to his house after giving this people a good show? giving them something for their little wank-bank?

as much as he hated to admit it, the mere image of you dancing sensually could’ve had him cumming on the spot. he also hated to admit that the fact that he wasn’t the only person in this place was bringing back that wrath that he had earlier.

was he supposed to be able to compose himself around you from now on? was he supposed to not have you over his knee the next time he had you alone. giving you an orgasm for every set of eyes that were watching you waltz around the stage?

his fingers twitched along with his cock when he saw you bend down to let a batty old man hand you a 100 dollar tip.

and that’s when your eyes met his piercing ones.

you seemed to freeze at his presence for a few moments before you were back to dancing, your vision still glued to his.

and the subtle smirk he sent your way was enough to confirm that— you were getting your brains fucked out by sirius black after this.

after a few more dances and tips, you and your friend got off the stage, your head snapping back to meet sirius’s direction; who was still staring at you with hooded eyes.

you threw him a lazy smile before making your way to the loo, knowing damn well that sirius was just a few steps behind you. the door barely touched the doorframe before he was wringing it open with such force that had you giving a small gasp when he abruptly grabbed ahold of your jaw, turning your head up at him.

“i didn’t know you could dance like that” were the first words he spoke to you in the whole evening.

“you barely know me at all, sir” you teased. the nickname you addressed him as seemed to spark something in him. and a short chuckle came from sirius before he was smashing his lips to yours, letting go of your face to knead the softness of your bum, he hooked a finger on the waistband of your thong before letting it snap back on your flesh, coaxing a whimper from your mouth.

“you filthy little thing, getting me all hard in front of everyone. you’re gonna have me thinking of this pretty pussy for the rest of the week, and i’m gonna have you looking all ruined once i’m done with you” he growled in between kisses, hoisting you up on the counter and advancing his kisses downwards on your neck.

you threw your head back with a blissful sigh as sirius grazed his teeth against your sweet spot, your body ignoring the alarms going off on your brain that screamed: this is your best friend’s dad! what are you doing? but with the way sirius crouched down so he was at level with your sopping cunt, his beard giving you that delicious burn that you were gonna feel for the rest of the night, you really couldn’t give less of a fuck that this was wrong.

“oh fuck” you whispered as sirius dragged your panties down, groaning slightly at the sight of your dripping pussy. “fuck baby, can’t wait to have this tight pussy milking me dry” he mumbled before diving in, lapping up at your juices in an instant.

you released a strangled moan as sirius flicked his tongue over your buzzing clit, the pads of his fingers teasing your slit. your hands flew down to grip his hair as he entered two fingers at one, sucking around your bundle of nerves in a way that had you curling your toes.

“oh my god, sir-” you moaned out, thighs shaking with anticipation at the same time sirius curled his fingers upwards, caressing your g-spot in the most dazzling way ever.

he continued his assault on your clit whilst his fingers pumped in and out of you, the stimulation provoking that coil in your belly to snap without a warning. “i’m gonna fucking cum” you managed to whine out, bucking your hips up before cumming around sirius’ fingers, not even giving him time to respond.

your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you cried out in pure euphoria— your mind barely registered when was it that sirius had stood up, fingers working rapidly against his belt before letting his engorged cock spring out, he stroked a few times before nudging your stimulated clit with the tip, watching with hungry eyes as you jolted your hips upwards as a silent plea.

“beg” he demanded.

“wha-”

“beg for it. show me how much of a desperate slut you are.” his eyes were darkened with lust as he spoke each word.

“please— please. i need it, i want you to fuck me hard and fast, sir. please” you pouted, giving him your best puppy eyes that you knew would always get you what you wanted.

“atta girl” he purred before pushing himself inside your gushing pussy, quivering cries leaving your lips like a chant.

sirius settled for a bruising pace since the start, rocking his hips into yours until you had your back arched, giving him a clear view of your breasts that were still trapped in the corset from earlier.

“so tight baby— can’t wait to see my cum painting this pretty thighs” he moaned, gripping hour hips harshly before fastening his speed, dirty sounds of clapping skin echoing throughout the bathroom.

you went cross-eyed as his tip destroyed your g-spot, tiny stars decorating your vision with every harsh thrust. you screamed his name over and over again until your throat became tired, reaching your fingers down to soothe your aching bundle of nerves.

your hand was swatted away by none other than the male who gave you a look before massaging your clit tightly. “who is making you feel this good, pretty girl?” he taunted, a prideful smirk making its way to his lips as he watched you babble his name, cunt squeezing his cock that was still drilling into your hole.

“look at that sweet cunt squeezing me. i’m gonna have the whole club knowing who’s making you feel this fucking good” he grunted.

you went to answer him but the only thing that came out was a shattering moan as you squirted all over the bathroom’s counter, soaking yours and sirius’ thighs.

“fuck!” he moaned as he pumped you full with his load. rope after rope spraying your walls.

ragged breaths filled the room as he carefully slid out of you, both slowly coming down from cloud nine. sirius grunted at the view of your overused pussy blowing out his cum. counter completely drowned in your arousal.

“round two at the house?” you suggested.

———

🏷: @selenesheart @malfoy-girl

[frogtanii]

tw. mentions / descriptions of a panic attack

bokuto was excited — more excited than he’d been in weeks!

he was finally getting the time to spend time with his beloved, his puppy, for the first time in forever thanks to the recent onslaught of drama the house had been embroiled in.

he figured he should thank you for bringing it all on because now, as he stood in front of meiko’s room, he had a chance.

“puppy!” bokuto called out, knocking on her door enthusiastically. after a moment of muttering, shuffling around and a loud curse, the door opened up just a crack to reveal meiko clad in only a thin bedsheet with her thin lips wrapped around a cigarette.

kotarou peered over her head and into her room where he spotted a quick flash of dark brown hair before meiko stepped out and closed the door behind her.

“who was that?” he questioned innocently, assuming that it was one of the other housemates. meiko narrowed her eyes at him and blew out a puff of smoke.

“what do you want bokuto.” her voice was steely and cold, nothing like her usual peppy self. still, bokuto couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was in there who shouldn’t be.

“you know,” kotarou began hesitantly, studying her face for reactions. “iwaizumi doesn’t like anyone in here who hasn’t signed a contract. and also you’re not allowed to smoke.” his nose turned up at the smell, disgust for the cigarette written clear on his face.

meiko rolled her eyes at him before taking another drag and blowing the smoke out straight into his face. bokuto tried to hold his breath for as long as he could but his lung capacity wasn’t so great. i need to work on that, he thought as he heaved and choked on the smoke circling down into his chest.

the love of his life adjusted her sheet covering before dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with the end of the blanket. “i asked you a question bokuto. what the fuck do you want?”

the harshness in her tone made him pause. was what he was here for actually important? or would it just bother her unnecessarily?

no, he resolved. bokuto missed her and he wanted to spend time with his kinda-but-not-really-girlfriend! especially after he waited all this time!

“i, i wanted to spend time with you...” with every word, his hesitance grew until he was muttering, the look in meiko’s eyes sending chills down his spine.

“no,” she said and turned back to enter her room. “wait!” bokuto’s hand shot out to grab her arm, very gently pulling her closer to him. “please,” he whispered, tears beginning to rim his wide, golden eyes.

meiko stared back up at him with absolute rage in her eyes as she snatched her limb out of his hold. “listen to me right now bokuto, and listen well,” she sneered, taking a step back towards her bedroom. “i have never liked you. you’re so fucking childish and clingy and annoying! i literally cannot understand how anyone cares to hang around you.”

bokuto felt something inside him shatter at her words, a sharp gasp escaping his parted lips. “but-“ “no buts! you are fucking nothing to me! all you were was a warm body to sleep with but you weren’t even good for that,” meiko’s chest heaved as she finished speaking, her dark eyes trained on the tear tracks on bokuto’s cheeks.

gently, he lifted a hand to his face, barely registering the water that covered them, his mind desperately trying to understand what had just occurred. in the back of his head, he briefly noticed the sound of a door closing and muffled giggling but it was covered by the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

how... could she? he loved her and she, she only wanted to fuck him? he poured out his entire heart, his very soul to her and for what? for her to take it and stomp on it until there was nothing left?

bokuto’s chest felt heavy — he wasn’t breathing. quickly, he took one breath, and then another and another and another until he was collapsed on the ground, heaving for air as he sobbed.

why him? what had he done to deserve this? maybe it was karma — he’d let a plastic bag float by him into a stream when he was 7 even though he knew littering was wrong. maybe it was because he didn’t kiss his mother goodbye the last time he saw her. or maybe the universe was punishing him for everything he’d done to you.

oh, you — the person who meiko had tried so hard to convince him to hate, and he had! his beloved had no reason to lie to him, or at least that’s what he believed until this moment. she lied to him about loving and caring about him so why wouldn’t she lie about everything else?

bokuto’s head was pounding as he tried to rationalize where he’d gone wrong, his usually bright eyes, dull and trained on the ceiling as he attempted to regain his breathing.

it felt like his whole world was collapsing on itself like a fallen star, just waiting to implode and destroy everyone and everything until there was nothing left and—

“hey, look at me, you’re ok,” a soft voice rang out over the buzzing in his head, his eyes beginning to focus on... your figure.

what were you doing here? he so desperately wanted to ask but the words were caught in his throat, trapped behind a wall of despair and anguish.

“don’t try to talk ok? just focus on my breathing, try and match it. i’m going to touch you now.” your soft, small (so much smaller — were you eating enough?) hand wrapped around his own and brought it up to your chest where he could feel the steady rise and fall of your breathing.

bokuto’s breath was shaky and definitely not as smooth as your own, but you didn’t seem to mind, instead holding his hand to your heart until his breathing became level and even.

he must’ve knocked out because by the time he came to, the hall was dark and you were gone, the only memory of you being a box of tissues and a glass of water on the ground next to him.

he reached for the glass first, chugging the whole thing down in only a few seconds. all that crying must have dehydrated him immensely, he realized as he searched for another cup.

standing on shaky legs, bokuto attempted to maneuver to the kitchen, holding onto the walls for stability as he crept through the dark corridors.

he quickly filled up his favorite owl mug (a gift from she-who-will-not-be-named) with water once he made it to the kitchen, extra careful not to make a lot of noise just in case someone was asleep.

bokuto swiftly gulped down his water, placing the cup in the sink where he knew it would not remain because if anything was sure, it was the clean state of the house that meiko kept.

ugh meiko. the whole situation hurt to think about so he didn’t, instead choosing to bury it in the deep recesses of his mind, never to be seen again.

as bokuto trudged upstairs back to his bedroom, he noticed the big black trash bag sat at the end of the hall near daichi’s room. he debated on taking it out himself but was ultimately convinced not to.

it’ll be gone tomorrow, he reasoned as he slipped into his room and bed before quickly falling asleep.

...

it was not gone the next day. neither was the cup in the sink, or the hair on the floor in the bathroom, or the laundry strewn all over the living room.

the whole house seemed to be in shambles and it remained that way for the entirety of the week. meiko was nowhere to be seen, flitting in and out of the house at random, escaping to only god knows where with god knows who.

bokuto didn’t care anymore. she ruined his life so why should he give a half of a shit where she was? what he did care about, on the other hand, was figuring what to do about you.

he wanted to thank you and apologize but he wasn’t sure how to do so! he knew he said some horrible things to you and was determined to make it right — not just for you but for himself too.

℗ poker face

shattered

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - ok writing this genuinely made me cry???? bokuto is my comfort character so making him go through this i just </3 i hope it came across ok? it’s literally 1 am so there may v well be typos and massive mistakes but i hope u guys enjoy this miserably sad chapter LMAO don’t forget to feed me <3

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the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[wh0reifyoudontexist]

hi, i think the worst thing a man can do is cheat on a pregnant woman so could i request a fic with draco with that plot?

but that draco really loves his wife and someone from his environment influences him to cheat on her and from there whatever you want to happen:(

WAAAAAH ANGST MY FAVORITE

first words

draco malfoy x reader

post hogwarts

angst

request: yes | no

summary: draco cheats on his pregnant wife (i am not good at summaries excuse me)

warnings: curse words, cheating, i think that's it? tell me if i missed a few 😽

masterlist | navigation

"shit"

first word ever said between the two of them, needless to say that's the start of a romance novel; cliche isn't it?

spilled coffee all over a cream colored blouse, tears threatening to fall out of lids, ears ringing and full of apologies falling out of the mouth of a blonde that stood in front of her, one hand grasping a handkerchief, the other on her waist guiding the woman onto the side of diagon alley.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to," he said sincerely carefully damping the cloth in hand on her brown stained blouse, "let me make it up to you?" he questioned finally looking up at her, who's brows have been furrowed the whole time.

instead of answering, she lifted one of her arms, eyes straight on the watch enclosed on her wrist, before rubbing her face with both of her hands sighing loudly, "sure." she finally said, dismissing the thought to tell him she was expected to be in an interview 10 minutes ago.

and instead let him lead her to a cafe with his hand on her back.

that was a decade ago. now 29 married and pregnant with the same man who cost her a job; not that she needs one now.

setting down the cup of tea, circling her thumb on her swollen belly, feeling a kick "hi there darling, how you holding up in there?" she smiled, "your daddy's gonna be here soon, bet you're excited aren't you?" she whispered as she bought her hand up to kiss it before placing it on top of her stomach once more, rubbing it gently, "love you, little one"

what she didn't know? oh, it was that her husband wasn't going to 'be here soon'

she laid in bed moving to lay on her left, hand smoothing out her husband's side, brushing away non-existent dirt. 'he must have a lot of work left' was her mindset at that moment,

breathing out a sigh, she kissed her hand one last time for the night, placing it right above her stomach heading to sleep.

"don't you miss it?"

"shove off, dilton. i need to get home," draco said pushing away his co-worker out of his way, ready to go home and be greeted by his lovely wife, ready to smother her with kisses, ready to talk to his unborn son.

"oh come on malfoy! just this once, please?"

is he serious?

convincing a married man to cheat on his wife? his pregnant wife?

ignoring him, he continued his way to the floo network of the ministry, only to be stopped by aaron dilton's voice,

"you really have changed, what happened to the malfoy back at hogwarts? the one who wouldn't give a single fuck about the girls he slept with? you're boring, that must be how it is for married men. don't you ever get bored of your wife?"

if draco wasn't listening before he definitely was now, ears turning red at the mention of his wife spoken of so in such a vile manner,

but no. if only that wasn't the case, he wouldn't admit it but something did snap inside of him at dilton's words causing him to turn around, face him and do something that will leave him feeling nothing but regret the following day,

but that's a problem meant to be solved tomorrow.

"where were you?"

he froze, steps halting when he lifted his face to look at his wife, a furrow adorning her brow, wrapped around a midnight blue robe, furs at the end. "got caught up with work," he lied "sorry love"

"that's alright. come on up, let's sleep" something about her tone made him think she didn't believe him,

and why would she? his hair's all ruffled, shirt untucked and rumpled, but that's what happens when you're too busy stressing right? you forget about how you look, and sigh frustratedly, hands rubbing your face roughly that you look like you've just awoken from a deep slumber.

oh how he wished that was what happened, heart breaking at the thought of someone hurting her wife, mentally or physically, but what hurt more? knowing that it was him that'll hurt her,

but it doesn't matter she won't find out... right?

the next time it happens, he wasn't pushed into doing it, he wanted to prove something. he wanted them to know that he was still the same as they were in hogwarts, something about him turning soft made him frustrated, frustrated about what his fellow peers will say,

and the next time it happens, he won't be so lucky as the last, he shouldn't have even gotten away with it

skipping work with his 'friends' and going home so early to not be suspected of anything,

by the time he enters the door to their manor, he froze mid-step upon seeing his wife approaching him a cup in hand, a smile on her blemish free face.

"hi, i missed you," she breathed onto his neck, her head tucked between the area where his neck and shoulder met,

unbeknownst to him, she was trying her hardest not to let a tear slip from her eyes, smelling cheap perfume stuck on his skin, small and unnoticeable marks on his porcelain skin, you have to really squeeze your eyes to see them, for her case she doesn't have to, it's so close to her face that she had to turn her head to the other side before finally letting him go,

"i didn't know you were gonna be home so early, i haven't prepared any food yet," she spoke trying her best to keep her voice steady as possible though failing as there was a little crack at the end, which the tall man didn't even notice.

doesn't he love her anymore? how did he not notice that little squeak of her voice? isn't he supposed to know every little thing about his significant half?

"it's okay love," he kissed her head, sniffing a bit of her watermelon shampoo, heart breaking a little more,

"i'll do it. you deserve it." he smiled pecking her lips one last time before disappearing inside the kitchen, the pregnant woman left to stand outside in the cold room.

"love, dinner's ready" he called softly beside the sleeping figure, she answered with a nod, gathering to pull herself up from the couch only to be stopped by a hand coming in front of her eyesight,

she took hold of it reluctantly lifting her and her son up and away from the comfy abode she wished would swallow her up.

'i'm ready' those words were repeating in her mind as she sat silently on her side of their bed waiting patiently and nervously for her hus— draco to finish in the bathroom.

once she heard the sound of a door opening, clicking just as fast as it opened, she spoke

"how could you?" no need to act stupid, be straight and blunt.

"darling? how could i what?" taking a shower was no use, he was already starting to sweat,

"no need to act stupid, draco." was all she said before standing up from her position and packing up her belongings,

maybe it's the hormones, but she does not want to see his face again.

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to"

flashbacks happened. she was taken back to the time where they first met, the first thing he ever said to her.

anger took over her appearance but just sighed loudly not wanting to pick a fight afraid it'll cause something to their baby.

"please, darling let's talk about this. don't leave. i love you, so so much," he began as tears streamed down his face as he knelt in front of her hugging her legs to keep her from going, bags in hand.

"draco." she sighed, tired. but he wouldn't move, he can't afford to lose her, the love of his life,

"draco, please!" she shoved him away from her legs before it's too late and she forgives him.

"just- just please.. i need time." she stated before going out their bedroom,

"shit!" she exclaimed when her hand accidentally hit a vase, causing it to shatter and make a loud banging noise all throughout the empty, and lonely manor.

ironic isn't it? how her first words are also the last words she'll say to him, leaving him a broken mess,

part 2

[julemmaes]

The One Good Thing

Rowaelin Month, Day Two

A/N: again, I'm gonna fail all my exams because of this stupid app, I'm sure. Also, I miss the off campus boys so much I kinda made Fenrys one of them and I love the idea of the tog men as hockey players so yeah, enjoy;)

Word count: 2,581

Aelin would have killed for a second of silence.

She daydreamed of that almost noisy quiet that makes you feel every deepest thought hidden in your brain that exists only at 3 a.m., when every soul is resting and cars can't drive around the campus. And there are no children screaming at the top of their lungs or parties going on all night long.

That was what she had been promised, the flyers she'd been handed during the open days, when she had come to visit the college.

That was how it was supposed to be.

Aelin had tried so many times to ask her upstairs flatmate to hold his Twitch live streams strictly in the afternoons or mornings when she wouldn't be home, but when Fenrys Moonbeam had first opened the door to his place, the girl had known immediately that she wouldn't be able to change his mind even by paying him.

Especially since his live streams were followed by such a large audience that Aelin couldn't even begin to understand how he had managed to build an empire so big in just under a month. Surely it had something to do with the long blond hair, different from her own but just as beautiful, and the arms covered in tattoos so colourful they blind you. They had their own charm. Add to the pile the fact that he was the goalie on the hockey team, and he was the perfect mix for the guy to marry.

From what their common friends had told her, he was already earning enough to afford an off-campus home, but that he liked the comfort the college dorm gave.

A comfort that Aelin, after three years in those filthy rooms and shared bathrooms, had yet to find.

When yet another howl of celebration at yet another victory that everyone expected pierced through his floor and her ceiling, nearly drilling her eardrums, Aelin gritted her teeth so hard that for a moment she feared they might shatter.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to whisper, "Shut," failed miserably to keep her tone under control and shrieked the second word, "up!"

A booming laugh rang out upstairs and a millisecond later a message lit up her phone screen.

From Lys: Girl, maybe you should take a chill pill, I heard you on the live stream. Are you still studying?

She tossed the phone to the side, pulling her hair up and pinning it back with a pencil.

"Fuck off." she muttered under her breath.

Lysandra was one of the few in their group of friends who never missed a Fenrys broadcast. Whether it was at eleven at night or five in the morning, she was always one of the first to join in.

Aelin often wondered if she was just doing it because Fenrys was helping her sponsor her YouTube channel, but then she remembered that Lysandra would do the same for all her friends.

She got out of bed, taking all her books and notes in her arms, pen in her mouth and holding her phone between her pinky and ring fingers. She threw open the door to her room and found herself facing a wall of muscle, slamming into her roommate's chest.

Rowan's hands snapped forward and kept her from falling backwards and when Aelin looked up at his face, she almost lost her balance again.

His face was sleepy, only one eye open as he suppressed a yawn. The imprint of the pillowcase on his cheek just another sign that he had already been sleeping.

"Are you okay?" he asked her in a hoarse voice, stepping back and letting her through, "I heard you screaming. I was coming to check on you."

Aelin grimaced, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

He shook his head, moving a hand in mid-air, "Don't worry about it." then his gaze snapped to the ceiling as another laugh from Fenrys cut through the thin material dividing their quarters. He frowned, lowering his gaze back to her, and it was at that moment that he noticed the books in her arms.

If possible, his frown deepened even more.

He closed his eyes, gently grabbing her wrist and leaning against the wall behind him, pulling her towards him.

Aelin let herself be tugged, arranging the books so that they didn't poke at either her or him in that uncomfortable hug, but she positioned her head against his chest, letting his fingers expertly massage the nape of her neck.

"Baby." he sighed into her hair. Her toes curled.

It had only been a few weeks since they had decided to start dating, a few weeks since Rowan had confessed to having feelings for her. They had exchanged a few kisses in secret from their friends, wanting to enjoy that first phase of their very fresh relationship in privacy. They hadn't done anything too steamy yet, and Aelin had more than agreed with his decision to take it slow, but one thing Rowan hadn't held back in the slightest from the first second she'd agreed to go out with him had been the pet names he'd given her whenever they were in the safety of their dorms.

Baby was definitely her favourite.

His hands slid lower, down her back, and she looked up, resting her chin on his chest and fixing her eyes in his. His gaze softened, still clouded with sleep. "You shouldn't be studying at this hour."

Aelin grunted, smacking her forehead against his chest, "But I have a test tomorrow."

Rowan sighed again, pushing her away and taking the books from her arms. "Precisely why you should be sleeping." He walked towards the common room, speaking softly and hoping Lorcan wouldn't hear them. They both knew their roommate suspected something, but he didn't have enough worries in the world for him to actually give a shit about their possible relationship, and they also knew he would never say anything to anyone. Maybe to Elide, but neither of them would bet on it. "I left you alone tonight because you needed to rest, not stay up until morning melting your brain."

She followed him like a lost dog, dragging her feet on the ground, finally feeling that visceral fatigue get the better of her.

"I can't leave the study half done."

Rowan dropped the books on the table, turning around just in time to block her before she bumped into him again and slipped the pencil out of her mass of hair, letting it fall around her shoulders.

"You're not leaving the study half done," he told her as he rubbed her arms to keep her warm, "you've spent the last five weeks studying this stuff and I'm sure you know it like the abc. You need a break." he told her.

Aelin looked up at him from under her lashes, a little annoyed that that was true, but completely distracted by the lines his fingers were drawing on her arms. She took a deep breath through her nose, puffing out her chest and thrusting out her breasts, catching the attentive gaze of her almost-boyfriend for a nanosecond.

He smiled wearily at her, "Are you sleeping in my bed tonight?"

Aelin just nodded and took both of his hands, pulling him down onto her. Rowan squinted his eyes and placed his lips on hers in a quick, chaste kiss. She hummed in satisfaction as his hands slid under her bottom and wrapped around her thighs, pulling her up. She tied her legs around his hips and rested her head on his shoulder as Rowan made his way into their tiny flat.

He lowered her onto the bed, pulling the blankets out from under her body and laying down beside her before covering them both. Aelin moved as close to him as she could, pressing her back against his chest and her butt against his crotch, tangling their legs together.

Rowan's arm wrapped around her waist as the other slipped under her head and his hand found hers under the pillow.

The second they were settled, every bit of their bodies touching, Rowan left a soft kiss on her shoulder, pulling her even tighter against him.

She smiled weakly, in a drawling tone, "Thank you."

He hummed against her skin, "That's what I'm here for."

"Don't let me die around finals time?" she asked in a teasing tone.

Rowan chuckled softly, making her back shake, "Exactly."

Aelin tried to turn towards him, wanting to trace the pale freckles that were starting to sprout on his nose now that the days were getting longer and the sun kissed his cheek every afternoon, but his arms blocked her.

"No, it's not fair for you to be the big spoon every night. I'm fucking sick of it, I want to hold you today." he muttered, the chains of sleep already dragging him towards that blissful unconsciousness.

She huffed, stopping struggling against his grip, relaxing and feeling her muscles scream with pleasure after being tense for hours on end while she studied.

She hadn't realised she'd stayed up so long, but she was terrified of failing this last exam. If she failed it she would have to wait months before she could retake it and the idea of it was getting her down more than perhaps it should have.

She started thinking about the various questions the professors might ask her the next day, repeating the answers in her mind, closing her eyes as she thought.

"Baby," Rowan grumbled, "you're talking out loud."

She hadn't realised she was biting the cuticles around her nails until his hand came to rest on her arm, pulling her hand away from her mouth. He took a deep breath, helping her turn to face him.

When she looked up at him from under her lashes, she saw the way he was fighting sleep. And she felt terribly guilty. If she was having trouble sleeping the day before an exam, that didn't mean he had to stay awake for her too.

She was about to speak, tell him to close his eyes again and let her go into the living room so she could finish going over the last few pages and then return to his room, but he put his hand on her cheek and in a soft voice asked, "What's bothering you?"

She bit the inside of her cheek, shaking her head, "Nothing."

He tried to hold back a yawn again, but couldn't this time and Aelin's guilt grew immensely inside her. "If you tell me right now what's wrong, I could help you fix it sooner. And we could get at least three hours of sleep before we have to go to class." he pointed out in an exhausted tone.

She blinked once, twice, searching for the right words.

"It's Fen. If he'd stop playing so late every night-"

Rowan quickly cut her off, closing his eyes, almost as if he could no longer physically stay awake. "Ace, Fenrys never really bothered you. You've always managed to study and ignore it. What is it that's bothering you?"

Aelin let go of a shaky breath, "It's nothing, really. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

He only opened one eye, watching her carefully as she hid her face against his chest and wrapped her thin arms around his torso.

His hand began to slowly massage her back, "If we don't talk about this now I'll be up all night worrying."

She huffed, knowing full well how true those words were. For the love of the other, she began to ramble on about the real reason she hadn't been able to focus on the textbooks.

"I don't want to tell anyone we're together yet," she confessed under her breath.

Rowan opened both eyes then, fixing them on her and giving a small nod with his chin to keep her going.

"It's not that I don't want to tell the others," she said, referring to their closest friends, "but the second they find out, the news will become public knowledge and there are some people I really don't want to let that information get to."

He nodded, understanding perfectly who she was talking about.

"We don't have to tell anyone," he kissed her forehead, continuing to talk in that position, his lips brushing against her skin with every word he spoke, "it'll be our little secret for some time more, until we figure out how to get all the puck bunnies off our backs."

Aelin smiled, lifting her chin and kissing him.

Being the captain of the hockey team, Rowan didn't exactly go unnoticed on campus. Not many people approached him during the day, especially when Lorcan was at his side, knowing full well that they would receive nothing but a rude invitation to leave, but their friend couldn't spend his life attached to Rowan's hip, and the few times the two of them had gone out alone it had happened that a horde of fans had overwhelmed them. After those afternoons, Aelin had found herself the victim of not so nice threats from unknown numbers, as had happened to Lysandra when she had first started dating Aedion.

With Manon's help they had managed to track down the senders and Rowan had been unpleasantly surprised to discover that it was one of the girls he always partied with after the games. A girl he'd always considered a friend.

Rowan had taken all the blame, feeling responsible for those attacks on Aelin and it had taken months to convince him that he had no part in the insanity of others.

They'd started limiting the dates they went on as a pair, even when they were just friends, to prevent similar things from happening again, but Aelin felt trapped.

And she knew it was the same for Rowan.

She wished she could get a place off campus, where she could retreat with him, away from the prying eyes of the world, but it didn't seem right to bring up the topic of 'let's move in together' after not even three months of dating.

Rowan rested a hand on her cheek, moving a strand of hair behind her ear, "It'll be fine. And if anyone finds out and the threats come back, we'll do something about it."

She nodded, not entirely convinced and not at all reassured.

He knew instantly, "Aelin, whatever happens, I don't care what others think. I've waited years to finally have you. I've been on the sidelines all this time, watching you go on date after date with everyone and never with me-"

"You never asked," she mumbled in annoyance.

Rowan continued as if she hadn't spoken, "I would have preferred not to be the talk of the town all the time, but I'm not going to let public opinion take away the one good thing in my life."

She opened her mouth wide, "What about hockey?"

He shrugged, looking at her, "Hockey is just a sport."

"If Lorcan could hear you right now..." she shook her head.

"But Lorcan's not here. And you won't tell him," he made her silently promise.

They exchanged another brief kiss, before they carried on talking about all the worries she had and every word that came out of his lips acted as a sedative for her fears, killing one at a time, until she fell asleep in his arms, lulled by his soft breathing on her neck.

tog tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

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[whaleofatjme1920]

Oh god please, more cheating and angst (hoodie? Tim? 👀👀👀) Idk u just write it so good and my aching heart feels better oddly because of it. I fuckn love angst djsjsjjdjdjd

Full Moon and Being A Horrible Person

[Masky X F!Reader]

[Warnings: language, physical cheating]

[AN: i love angst too]

The full moon makes us do weird things, it’s been well documented. From the people bouncing off the walls to inducing labor, all the way to making us make questionable decisions, the full moon is to blame, not him.

It was a full moon when he caught the eyes of a woman with dark, sweet chocolate colored eyes. She looked so beautiful under the lights of the bar, yellow illuminating her skin like it was gold.

She’d been flirting with him across the bar the entire night. Wry smiles, tapping her fingernails against the glass, twirling her dark hair and giggling when he caught her eyes and by extension, her attention.

“You know Reader isn’t gonna be happy with your behavior,” Hoodie had lightly chided him before downing more of his beer. “Why don’t you let me take over? I haven’t-”

“No,” Tim laughed, pushing at his best friend’s shoulder. “It’s harmless flirting,” he finished, watching Hoodie’s expression from the corner of his eye.

“If Reader was doing this, would you consider it harmless flirting?”

Kate excused herself from her conversation with one of the ladies from the booth behind the table she and her group shared, then turned her attention to her group leader. “He has a point,” she said, grinning when Hoodie leaned over the table to high-five her.

Tim rolled his eyes and began to lazily swish his drink. “It’s nothing, I promise.”

“You mean to say you haven’t emptied your balls in a few weeks and you’re desperate,” Hoodie deadpans, breaking his blank expression when Kate loudly laughs.

“Again, he has a point,” Kate smirked. “C’mon, let Hoodie or Toby take this one. Neither of them are in relationships and are less likely to get attached.”

Tim raises a brow at Kate. “Attached? What does that mean?”

Hoodie shares a look with the woman across from him who nods at him to explain what exactly she means. “She uh,” Hoodie awkwardly sips at his beer before biting the bullet completely. “C’mon man, you have an addictive personality. Pills, cigarettes, Reader…” He trails off before Tim hisses and punches Hoodie’s shoulder, roughly. Hoodie only barks a laugh and raises his hand up in submission. “I’m right, I’m always right!” He manages to choke out through remaining giggles.

“Can we just drop it for now?” Tim growls.

Kate rolls her eyes and then pulls a face to Hoodie, who stifles his laughter just barely before she turns back to her conversation with the ladies from the booth behind her. She’s up and out of her seat following a group of them to the other side of the bar, giggling and laughing as a woman with short pink hair holds her hand and weaves her through the crowds.

Hoodie feigns innocence before standing up. “I’m gonna find Tobes, who knows what he’s doing. Tearing up the dance floor, maybe?”

Tim watches as his best friend shuffles out from his seat, beer still in hand as he disappears into the sea of people. He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. His dark eyes scan the bustling room full of bright, rainbow colored strobe lights and too loud music only to catch a glimpse of the full moon outside. It’s tinged pink, and seems to blossom the longer he looks at it. Due to where they’re currently at in the city, he can’t see the stars - much too much light pollution. A sigh is about to escape his lips when he feels a hand brushing over his, pulling him from the light of the full moon and onto the woman he’d been flirting quietly with all night.

“Never thought I’d get you alone,” she says, voice sweet like honey and smoother than silk.

Tim thinks about his words, his group’s chiding before mentally shrugging off all responsibilities. “I know, right?” He replies, voice low and deep, something charming and sweet.

She grins like the Cheshire Cat before playfully biting her lip. “I’m just passing through here,” she begins, “maybe we could… Have a few more drinks then head back to my hotel room?”

Tim feels a slight blush come to his cheeks before swallowing it back down. He smirks, leaning into her presence. “I’d love nothing more.”

The two of them knock back a few more drinks, the woman mostly choosing fruity things and Tim sticking to whiskey. Their touches become more and more bold, and their words more lusty and obscene by the moment. He has her sit on his lap and he whispers all the nasty things he wants to do to her and she gobbles it up, giggles and soft licks to the shell of his ear driving him up a wall.

And then, he follows her to her hotel. It’s a tangle of lips smashing against lips, hearts beating in sync and hands grabbing in the most inappropriate of places. Her clothes lie on the floor before getting covered up by his, her body following in suit.

Tim takes her. He drinks her in full and has her seeing the stars that were once only gazed upon by you. He touches her in ways you’ve never been touched and allows her to touch him in ways he’d always claimed were ‘too much’ for him.

When the deed is done, he’s cuddling her much like he would cuddle you, cigarette in his mouth and bliss on his face.

Tim stayed the night.

The next morning, he’s so groggy that he doesn’t even realize he’s still got her lipstick stains on his skin. He gets back in his car (failing to realize his group had to either walk back to the temp or hitch with someone else), and heads back to the only true home he’d ever considered.

It’s a few hours to your place, but he makes it, and that’s all that matters. Your car isn’t in the driveway, so he lets himself in. A quiet stumble to the bathroom and he sees he looks like a mess. The weight of what he did to you begins to sink in.

Tim turns the shower on and strips off his clothing - the clothes still linger with her perfume before he hops in and begins to furiously scrub at his skin. Tears well in his eyes. How could he do that to you? What kind of common sense was he lacking in that moment?

He continues to scrub, slowly coming to the realization that he’s going to do whatever it takes to hide this from you - you can never know. It was the light of the full moon, people always act crazy when the moon is in that phase, and he was drunk, like really drunk.

Excuses, excuses.

The water stops right when he hears the front door open. He hears your voice. You’re greeting him sweetly, like you always do.

He takes in a deep breath. You can never know.

It was only inevitable that you’d find out, though he’s surprised you went as long as you did without knowing. Tim hid it from you for months, and he probably could’ve kept it longer if he didn’t come with you to Target when you asked. You’d always been a fan of late night store runs, and he hadn’t gone on one with you in a while… What harm could it possibly do?

A lot. A lot of harm that surfaced the truth.

“I should’ve cuffed you when I had a chance!” The woman giggled as she came up beside you as you looked at the early Halloween decorations.

You raised a brow. “Excuse me?” You looked over to your boyfriend, whose face had gone pale. “I think you have the wrong…”

“You’re a lucky girl, y’know that?” She continued, brushing off your words. “He took me to the moon.” Her voice was so sultry and decadent. “Hope he takes you to the moon as well,” she says, her fingers trailing Tim’s arm.

He pulls away from her. “W...Who are you?” He says, attempting to sound confused.

The woman pulls a face before looking in between the two of you, her dark eyes glancing and putting together the pieces. Instead of being embarrassed or ashamed, she chuckles and begins to take off again. “I did you a favor, honey,” she calls over her shoulder, hips swaying as she turns down another aisle.

You don’t want to admit it, but now you know why Tim’s been so weird lately and nicer than usual. Sure, Tim is a sweet guy, but his behavior the past few months has been OVERLY nice, and now you know why. “What was that?” You ask, eyes narrowing and tears welling.

“Nothing, let’s just pay and get out-”

“I wanna go home.”

Tim moves to rest his hand on your shoulder, but you recoil as if you’d been burned.

A huge argument ensued when the two of you got back into the car, lots of harsh words were traded. He tried reasoning with you, he tried telling you how much he loved you, he tried everything in his power but he’d ruined a good thing.

You ended up pulling over on the side of the road, slamming the breaks, tears in your eyes and turned to him. “Give me the key to my house.”

“What? No-”

“Give. Me. The. Key. Tim,” you hiss, punctuating every word with stronger venom. You held your hand out.

Tim sighs deeply and reaches into his pocket, pinching the bridge of his nose as you harshly snatch the key from his awaiting hand. “It’s not like that, you know I love you-”

“Is that what you’re calling it? Cheating on me and then lying about it for months?” You rhetorically ask, growling and seething further and further. You feel rage wracking your system as it exhausts you further and further. You can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, because if you do, you’ll melt.

“I’m telling you, it was to protect you,” he attempts again. “Let’s just, let’s just go home and-”

“Get the fuck out of my car,” you say, drawing in every remaining and residual strength you have as hot tears scald your cheeks.

“You don’t mean that-”

“I do.”

“Reader, baby please-”

“Get the fuck out of my car,” you repeat. You squeeze your eyes shut, shake your head and then turn back to the road. “Do it before I do something stupid.”

Tim feels his heart shatter, cracking on impact as it falls deeper and deeper. He shakily runs his fingers through his hair before sliding out of your car, slamming the door shut and watches as you drive off and out of his life. He wants to scream, or cry, maybe both at the same time? He’s not entirely sure yet. He just knows his world is crashing down and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He betrayed your trust and broke your heart all for one singular night of passion.

The emotionally distraught man looks up at the moon, finding no solace that it’s full again.

[akingdomofswordsandstories]

Tired

azriel (acotar) x reader

warnings: mentions of blood, depression

word count: 1809

Sunlight filtered through the curtains of your room and the sound of birds humming filled the room. Groggily, you opened your eyes, surveying the scene. The left side of your bed was cold and empty. Azriel must have had to head up to Windhaven earlier this morning.

Glancing to the window, you saw it was half way open. Azriel’s small gestures never failed to make you smile. He knew you loved the smell of the breeze and the fresh air. It was refreshing. A moment of peace.But recently, it got harder and harder to smile. You put on a front to alleviate suspicion. The last thing you wanted was the inner circle being worried about your problems while they were dealing with other threats.

Swinging your legs over the bed, you felt the cool breeze against them. You made your way to the bathroom, getting ready for the day. You splashed cold water onto your face to try and wake yourself up. You looked in the mirror and saw a stranger staring back. Your disgust and hatred surfaced as your grip tightened on the edge of the bathroom counter. Why were you feeling this way? You wished you could go back to normal, to the happy carefree person you were months ago. That person was nowhere to be seen and you were stuck like this, stuck in your head and your thoughts.

Azriel must have sensed something was bothering you because he brushed your mind through the bond, sending a questioning thought . You quickly played it off sending your false happiness down the bond. When you usually had your thoughts, you made sure to cut the bond off, but not for too long because Azriel would get worried otherwise.

You kept these thoughts to yourself and didn’t let anyone see them. You felt guilty for feeling like this. You should be happy, not sad. You shouldn’t loathe yourself, you had people who loved you. But your self doubt and hatred never left you alone and you didn’t want to share this burden with Az, who has already been through so much. So you kept it bottled up and to yourself, only ever letting them surface in the dark when there was nobody but you and your demons.

The swift knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. You shoved the feelings down and plastered on a smile.

“Come in! The door is unlocked”

“Hey y/n! I just wanted to let you know that Rhys and Feyre planned a dinner party at the House of Wind tonight!” Mor said

“Oh? That sounds quite last minute” you chuckled

“Yeah, something about diplomacy and putting on a strong front? I wasn’t paying too much attention. Anyway, I need a new dress for the occasion and was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the Rainbow later?”

“That sounds so lovely, but I have to run a few errands,” you lied. Your energy had seemed to have left you and you were barely keeping your front up. “You’re gonna look gorgeous in whichever dress you get” you quickly added, giving her a tight lipped smile.

Mor could sense that you weren’t yourself. “Are you feeling ok y/n? You sound a bit- off?”

“Oh yeah of course! I’m just a bit tired. I think I’m going to head down and grab a cup of coffee. You know I love my coffee.” you gave her a slight chuckle.

“Well, if you’re heading down, I’ll just come with you. I need to head out and pick up a few more things for the party anyway.”

You gave her another smile, closing the door to your room as you followed her down the stairs

---------------------------------

Today was one of your bad days. Nothing you did could get your mind off the thoughts that haunted you. Normally, you were able to distract yourself, at least for a few hours, but today you could not evade them. They were the predator and you were their prey.

The inner circle was still in Windhaven. They were probably dealing with Devlon’s excuses as to why the females weren’t training. You knew they would be getting back soon though, since the party was soon.

Making your way back into the kitchen, you pulled out a kettle and filled it with water. Putting it on the stove and letting it boil, you grabbed a tall mug and some of your favorite tea powder. The kettle whistled and you poured the water into your mug. The first sip was comforting, the warmth spreading through your body. You closed your eyes and sighed, basking in the few moments of peace you had.

The wind whistled and you heard a series of thumps on the balcony. Opening your eyes, you saw that Azriel and the others had returned. Anger was painted over his face, but it vanished as soon as he saw you. He made his way over to you, giving you a quick peck on the lips. You breathed in his scent, the wind and the pine giving you a sense of comfort.

“So how did your check up with Devlon go?” you asked

Cassian let out a loud huff before anyone could respond

“Not well, I take it?”

“He keeps giving more chores to the females to keep them out of the training ring. I wanted to break his hand right there.” Azriel answered

“Oh Az, don’t worry, next time Devlon pulls shit like that, I give you and Cassian free reign to do whatever you want with him.” Rhys grinned out

“Oh mother I like the sound of that. God knows he needs to be put in his place.” Cassian sighed

“Devlon aside, are you guys ready for the party?” Feyre asked

“Fuck yeah, I’m in desperate need of booze” Cassian yelled out, causing all of you to laugh

“It sounds like fun, but I haven’t been feeling too well, so I think i’ll just stay home tonight.” you murmured

Azriel immediately put his attention on you. “Are you ok love? Do I need to call Madja?”.

“No no, don’t worry about me, I think I just need a little rest. You go to the party and have fun though. For me.” You knew that was the only way you would get him to go.

He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“Az, darling, i’ll be fine”

He relented. “Fine. But if I sense anything is off, I’m coming home immediately.”

---------------------------------

The other left to the House of Wind and you were finally left alone again. You wrapped yourself up in a blanket and lied down on your bed, drifting off.

A few hours later you woke up. Groaning, you made your way over to the bathroom. Gripping the counter, you stared at yourself in the mirror. You felt angry and disgusted. Your hand curled into a fist and before you could process what you were doing, the mirror shattered. You could feel the cuts on your hand, but the pain was the last thing on your mind.

Dropping your front, your thoughts and feelings flooded back into you. You felt the numbness washing over you as your feelings hounded you, ripping into you. You were so tired. You didn’t want to feel like this anymore. Why did you deserve anything?

Your self deprecating thoughts kept slamming into you.

You weren’t pretty enough. Azriel deserved better. He was only with you out of pity. He didn’t really love you. How could he ever love someone like you.

Finally the dam broke and your tears started flowing. Backing up to the wall, you slowly slid down, hugging your body, your sobs never ending.

---------------------------------

What you hadn’t realized was for a split second, your hold on the bond had faltered, and all your emotions and pain had slammed into Azriel. He almost lost his footing, clutching his heart and holding onto Cassian to keep him from falling over.

“Az? Azriel, what's wrong?” Cassian shouted

“I-, I need to go home. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I just need to check on y/n.”

Cassian didn’t have time to say anything else before Azriel disappeared into the shadows.

---------------------------------

“Y/n? Y/n! Darling, where are you?” Azriel shouted as he got home

Rushing into your shared room, he heard your sobs and made his way to the bathroom. His heart clenched when he saw you. He immediately crouched down next to you, gently picking up your body and leaning it against his.

“A- Az?” You hiccuped out, tears blurring your vision “Wha- What are you doing here? I thought I closed the bond”. Another sob left your body.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered into your hair, afraid you might break if his voice was any louder. “I could’ve helped you through this.”. One of his hands was wrapped around your bloodied one and the other one was gently rubbing your back.

“Why?” You spoke so softly that Azriel thought he imagined it.

“You deserve-” You took a deep breath to try and slow your tears, “You deserve so much more than me. Someone better than me. I’m nothing- I’m worthless. I’m not pretty enough or graceful enough. You should be with someone like Elain or Gwyn. Someone who is worthy of you. Someone who deserves your love”.

“That’s not your choice to make darling. I get to choose who I love, and I love you”

“I’m not worthy of your love” you whispered. “You shouldn’t be with someone like me. You shouldn’t have to deal with all my problems and insecurities. You should be with someone who doesn’t hate everything about themselves. You already deal with so much, you shouldn’t have this burden on you too.”. Tears burned the back of your throat.

“I’m no stranger to self-deprecation” Azriel laughed soundlessly “You’ve helped me through so many low points, it’s only fair i help you through yours. It’s what mates do. It what i’ll do, because I love you.”

“You shouldn’t” you cracked out

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” he whispered into your hair, pulling you closer to his chest. “Don’t shut me out. Please.”

At the sound of those words, you opened the bond and let Azriel see everything. You bore your soul to him and laid everything bare. You sobbed harder into his chest as he held you, sitting in the silence.

After you started feeling a bit better, Azriel lifted you up and placed you on the counter so he could clean your hand and wrap it in gauze. He quickly got changed and led the two of you to your bed.

“Did- Did you mean it?” you whispered out,

“Every word my love. Every single word.”

Pulling you close, he whispered sweet nothings till you drifted off.

[lacharcutiere]

ur my favorite drug & my worst hangover [nsfw 18+, terushima yūji]

5,9k words

✯haikyuu!! masterlist✯

winter sem break brings the new year, & a few other new developments too.

smut, tiny bit of angst, fwb, fluff // quit - lil aaron & travis barker. god this song goes so hard

the way all i talk abt is how much i love teru but have nothing to show for it— yeah we’re gonna fix that. man i love him

☾𓆙𓂻

— SOBER

the soft hum of the tv in the background slowly fades into your awareness as you blink blearily awake, almost forgetting where you are for a second.

you’re in yūji’s living room, duh. your semestral break has not been nearly as interesting as either of you’d hoped: instead, you’ve both succumbed to alternating between each other’s childhood homes, binging netflix and random youtube videos and eating chips and tubs of ice cream late into the night, as has been your custom for years.

it’s dim but for the glow of the screen, and it’s kind of chilly in here now, even with you wrapped up in a hoodie. (yours, not yūji’s. you only borrow his in emergencies.)

he’s not next to you now, but his footsteps—you know them by now: quick and kind of heavy but not overbearingly loud—are entering the room again, and you feel the sofa cushions dip a little as he retakes his seat next to you.

“hey,” he says, smiling, “you’re awake.”

“hmmph,” you mumble, sitting upright to stretch your back. “what time is it?”

“uh.” he squints at the digital clock next to the tv. “like one?”

“‘m cold.”

“me too.”

“‘nd tired.”

“you just woke up?”

“i’m tired,” you whine.

yūji groans. “you’re really gonna make me go to sleep this early?”

“you don’t have to sleep, but i will.”

“yeah,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “but who’s gonna keep me company then?”

“i dunno,” you shoot back, “text tetsu or something. he’s probably still up.”

he rolls his eyes but relents, standing from the sofa. “fine.” and he holds out a hand to help you up, which you don’t take.

“i can do shit for myself,” you joke, rolling your eyes.

“right.”

—

it’s not much warmer in his room despite the thermostat supposedly being set to an acceptable temperature, but at least the sleeping bag on the floor next to yūji’s bed is insulated, and he’s given you a couple extra blankets for which you’re grateful. the biting chill of january does not fuck around.

so you nestle yourself into a little cocoon of linens and pillows and pull your hood up, curling into a ball in an effort to conserve your body heat. you hear him laugh a little as he watches you.

“what?”

“nothing.”

there’s the light hum of a phone ringing a few times, and that little beep as tetsu picks up the facetime call.

sleep clouds your senses to the background music of stifled laughter and loud whispers and the occasional static of yūji’s phone speaker.

— BUT U PULLED ME CLOSER

the next few minutes, hour—you have no idea—pass just like that, with you drifting languidly in and out of sleep and the sounds of yūji and tetsurō’s voices audible but incomprehensible in the background.

last you remember, you’re slipping back under again, hearing tetsu through the staticky iphone speaker.

and then you wake up again because you’re fucking freezing and it’s quiet and the lights are off, except for the little reading light mounted to the headboard of yūji’s bed. you sit up on your elbows, craning your neck, and see that he’s still up, lying on his stomach with his phone dimly illuminating his face.

“what time’s it?” you mumble.

“uh... 2:38.” he pauses. “y’alright?”

“cold,” you say.

he locks his phone then, and he just looks at you kind of blankly and maybe a little mockingly? except it must not be mocking; it must be something else, because he’s just kind of... studying you.

you look back up at him expectantly. “what?” you say.

he sighs, kind of rolls his eyes, turns away from the light to hide the little smile playing on his lips. “come on up here.” he scoots over and pats the spot next to him.

thankful for an extra source of body heat and blankets and pillows, you shove yourself up off the ground and shuffle over to the bed.

it’s kind of funny, the way you’re basically adults now and yet your relationship’s still fundamentally the same as it was when you met years ago.

—

duh, yūji hates that. it’s true, that whole thing about how “every one of your guy friends has thought about fucking you at some point.” it’s true, at least for him.

and there’s something electric in how you haven’t slept next to him in months because you’ve both been busy with school, and now you’re back here. back here, where it feels like you belong.

there’s something deep in his chest that’s set aflame by the way you laugh and let him tuck the comforter over you; the way your sweatpant-covered legs brush against his own underneath it.

he wants to touch you.

he wants to wrap his hand around your thigh and pull it over his own; to run his fingertips up the length of your arm and make you shiver; to snake his around your waist and pull your head into his chest.

maybe he will once you’re asleep, he figures. once his pride can’t be hurt because you don’t have to know.

except... except he’d let it be hurt for you. without a moment’s hesitation. he would shatter it himself for you, would let you take him in your fingers and rip him to pieces too small to be puzzled back together.

because maybe he doesn’t just want you. maybe he loves you.

but even he, completely truthfully, doesn’t know.

he’s got a sneaking suspicion that he does, though, because he’s rarely confused and this is an enigma he can’t quite seem to decipher, no matter what he tries.

it’s absurd, too, he realizes laying on his back next to you, how suddenly he’s afraid to touch you. because the two of you have always been touchy, that’s just you. you’re two halves; you’re so similar. you’ve been attached at the hip since childhood—why is it different now, now that he wants that more than anything?

so here he is, spiraling in this conundrum of feelings, when it’s cut short by you, tiredly whining, “yūji.”

“what?” he sort of feigns annoyance.

“‘m cold.”

“and?”

and. and his breath catches because you roll over and latch onto him. and he brings his arms around your shoulders and holds you to his chest.

so close, and yet so far away.

and he shudders as you lay one hand flat on his chest. it belongs there forever.

you nuzzle your nose into his shoulder and inhale his scent and his brain short-circuits.

has she done this before?

and mostly unconscious, you mumble, “—warm. y’re pretty’.” his eyes go wide.

“what?”

your arms tighten around him, and he’d hate to admit it, but it’s setting him off. he’s... a little hard.

a hand settles itself on your thigh, the one that’s draped over his legs, and he pushes it downward a little, so that it’s not resting next to the rising erection in his pajama pants.

god, he wants to fuck you so badly right now, he wants for you to feel him throbbing between your legs as you whimper against his skin. but he also wants you to want him.

miraculously, a little sigh escapes your lips at the touch. so he doesn’t move his hand.

“feels nice,” you whisper.

so he decides to test the waters, and squeezes gently. you giggle sleepily.

inhibitions dissipating for a moment, his stomach leaps to his chest and he snakes that hand up over your hip, consciously avoiding your ass just in case, and rests it on your back, rubbing up and down slowly.

his chest constricts as you snuggle even closer to him. and then your leg moves back up and your thigh nudges his crotch.

your eyes snap open and he inhales sharply.

and then you’re propped up on your elbow, leaning over him.

he curses himself for forgetting to turn off the light; the flush in his cheeks is obvious.

half terrified and half excited, he watches as your face breaks into a wide, shit-eating grin.

“what?” he breathes.

your eyes narrow; a look of mischief he’s so familiar with, one that’s often mirrored on his own features. (it’s not now.)

“yūji,” you say, singsong and bright, “what’s this?”

and—oh, god, oh, fuck—you bring a hand down to rest on his dick, tenting in his pajamas.

he doesn’t know what to say to you.

“i— uhm—”

“hmm,” you hum. “y’ alright?”

he clears his throat, nods. “are— uh, are you?”

“mhm,” you laugh, wide awake now. “yūji...” you pause. he can’t stand it; he needs to know what happens next, needs to know what’s fanning the flames behind your eyes.

oh god. oh god, all he leaves is a breath in between and then you’re throwing your leg over him again and, fuck, you’re straddling him. he lets out a shaky breath, voice tight as he chokes out, “what are you doing?”

the smile is gone from your face now, replaced with something softer, something lustful. your hands move to his shoulders to balance yourself as you grind your hips down, and a low ahh slips out of him.

it’s just like that, just your clothed bodies rubbing together. he comes embarrassingly quickly in his boxers, but he lets you ride his thigh until you finish as recompense.

afterward, he excuses himself and cleans himself off in the bathroom. when he comes back, you’re sound asleep again.

that’s all that happens.

— UR GONNA FUCK ME UP

following that, everything proceeds as it had before. neither of you bother to speak of it, but nothing even seems off between you at all. it’s as if it never happened.

or maybe, yūji sometimes allows himself to think as he touches himself to the memory in the middle of nights when you’re not together, it’s like it was meant to happen.

what a wonderful illusion that is.

because he knows it won’t work, and if you ever thought about him like that, you would know, too.

the two of you have watched each other fall in love—get dumped, ghost people, whatever—several times over the past few years. he remembers your first boyfriend, your last year of middle school: the guy had been a mutual friend that you’d been crushing on for months. and yet, when you’d finally become a thing, it had taken no more than a couple of weeks for you to grow uninterested and dump him.

it’s not like he hasn’t done similar things in the past.

and it’s not like some people who’ve dated either of you haven’t had better luck; there have been several who have been the ones to break your hearts.

but both of you have yet to have maintained a long-term relationship, and neither of you have kept in contact with many of your exes.

he doesn’t want to be another one of those, and he certainly doesn’t want you to be, either.

—

it’s maybe a week after that night when you pick him up to go get takeout and ice cream.

that, in itself, is a pretty normal thing.

but then you’re sitting in your car, and between spoonfuls of mocha chip and hot caramel, you say, “so i saw this thing.”

“hm?” he responds, his mouth still full.

“your aura is striking, dude,” you quote. there’s a pause as you try to suppress a giggle. and then: “can i kiss you deeply, bro?”

he snorts and jokes, “anytime you want.” and he really hopes that you take his tone at face value, but he also knows you way better than that.

so he’s only half surprised when you actually do. half surprised, and wholly in awe.

your hands are in each other’s hair. it’s quick—feverish, but quick—and the first thing you say when you pull back is, “tastes like sugar.”

he laughs again, unsure of what move to make next. “yeah?”

and then you’re... shy? because you look away from him, back down to the cup of ice cream in your lap, and you say, “you feel good.” it’s so low that it’s almost unintelligible. but he hears you.

both your faces are burning when you look back up at him. “should we talk about that?”

“‘bout what? kissing? ‘s not the first time.”

it isn’t—he kissed you once in middle school, because there was this other girl that he’d thought was pretty, and he wanted to make her jealous. it hadn’t worked; she’d just thought the two of you were together, and a teacher had scolded you for pda. but at least it had been a fun story to laugh at for a while after.

this is obviously different, though, and you both know that. this kiss wasn’t to make anyone jealous. this one was for yourselves.

and anyway, that’s not what you meant by that.

“no,” you say. “the um... last week. at your place.”

“oh, yeah.”

“should we, um, do you wanna talk about it?”

“d’you?”

you shrug.

“alright,” he says. pauses. “so... what was that about?”

and you almost laugh incredulously. “you’re asking me?”

he stares blankly.

“you’re the one who got a boner when we were cuddling, yūji. as if we’ve never done that before.” you notice the mortified look on his face, and your expression softens and your voice lowers. “you wanna tell me what that was about? you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

and he laughs nervously and says, “no, no, ‘s fine. i was just kinda horny, that’s all. i haven’t hooked up with anyone in a while, y’know?”

you give him a sardonic grin. “and that’s why it only took you, like, three minutes to come?”

“yeah... yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

a moment passes where you stop and think for a little, and then you turn back to look at him. “it was, uh, good, though. like, objectively. it was good.”

it’s his turn to flash a grin at you: “‘course it was. it’s me.”

“and me.”

“shoulda won the sex gods superlative in last year’s yearbook.”

“ha.” another thing crosses your mind: “and now look at us. too busy with school to even have time to fuck anyone.”

yūji doesn’t say anything, so you do it for him.

you start out carefully. “but...”

“but?”

“do you— i mean. we’ve got, like, what? three weeks left before we go back? and we’re stuck here. and— and we already hang out like every single day anyway, and. uh. and it was objectively good.”

“are you—”

“and i’ve known you for years. come on. there’s, like, nothing i could do to embarrass myself around you anymore.”

friends with benefits. you’re suggesting that you temporarily be friends with benefits.

“and it wasn’t weird after last time,” you add. “i think.”

“hm,” he says, “yeah, no, it wasn’t.”

his first instinct is to say no, to tell you it’s a bad idea. but as he thinks about it more, he realizes that you’re kind of right. and anyway, what is the worst that could happen? because he’s pretty sure he’s far gone enough for you that falling a little further wouldn’t change a thing. even if he weren’t, he’d never think of hurting you intentionally.

and, he figures, he’d hardly mind being hurt by you.

—

that is how you end up back in his bed an hour later—his parents are out on a date this evening; you’ve got until a few hours past sundown to fuck and clean yourselves off and make it look like you’ve been eating and talking and watching tv the whole time.

outside of the guise of midnight impulses, it is a strange—but also strangely pleasant—thing to be having sex with your best friend.

there’s no pretense, hardly any need to keep up appearances (at least, for you). you’re not strangers only concerned with your own pleasure; you know each other. despite never actually having done this before, he already knows what you like, and vice versa.

it’s nice.

it’s nice to hear him laugh when you whine for him to stop being so gentle, vanilla-ass bitch, only to have him call you a “horny little—” (to which you respond, no, you.)

and it’s nice to sleep with someone who reads all the cues you give him without you even needing to say anything.

it is possibly the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.

it is possibly the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, and... it might not be just because of the dynamic between you two, or the fact that you don’t have to be afraid to tell him what you like and what you don’t—the fact that you don’t even have to tell him at all.

it’s nice. for you. and it’s hell for him.

it’s hell for him to have to hold back all the sweet nothings he wants to whisper in your ear—he’s restricted to you like that, huh, baby? and fuuuck and god, you’re so fucking tight, and he knows you’re into it, but he wants to be treating you like a princess right now. he wants to call you his, wants to whisper, tell me you’re all mine against your bare shoulders, wants to tell you he loves you.

so... he does love you.

but he can’t say that. he knows he can keep you around, but you’re not his to keep.

—

it continues like that for the next several days: you fuck, it’s good sex, and he’ll touch himself to the memories if you’re not there: memories of how you taste, of the softness of your skin, of you with your legs around his waist and your bare chests pressed together, damp and warm with sweat.

it is so gratifying, and even more painful.

and then, one day, as he’s fucking you in your childhood bedroom—all white walls covered in sketches and colorful postcards you’ve accumulated over the years—something is slightly off.

there’s something about it that feels more intimate than the other times, and it goes slower than before. it’s not all lust and clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor and bodies shoved hurriedly into mattresses.

you kiss him for a long time before any clothing comes off, and you keep pulling him back to your lips as he thrusts into you. you’re not urging him faster, more, harder; you let him keep a steady pace and arch your back into the sheets as you lie underneath him.

it hits him as you come down from your orgasm and writhe in his arms, softly moaning, “god, yūji, i l—”

he stops.

“don’t say that,” he says.

still shaking and catching your breath, you respond, “what?”

“just don’t.” but his tone is casual, and so you don’t think much of it.

—

you don’t hook up every time you hang out, and yeah. you were right. it’s hardly different than before. except, isn’t it?

you’re sitting on opposite sides of your sofa one morning after your parents have left for work—he slept over the previous night, but you didn’t have sex. you’d spent it laughing over the dumbest things and blasting music as you drove around without a destination.

your’re sitting with your knees pulled against your chest, scrolling lazily on your phone while you and yūji eat handfuls of cereal straight from the box between you.

it’s mostly quiet for once; comfortably silent. neither of you have ever really been a morning person.

— BUT U KNOW I LIKE IT

the ice cracks a little when he stops shoving your hand away to grab himself another handful of cereal. you notice, and then you wonder if you always noticed little things like that, because it feels kind of weird to. not that you mind.

meanwhile, yūji watches you, studying the way your hair falls messily around your face, the way one sleeve of your sweatshirt is rolled halfway up your forearm and the other is pulled all the way over your hand.

the living room is bright, surrounded by windows, and you’re illuminated by light yellow late-morning sunlight all around and he feels safe looking at you.

the ice cracks a little more when he says your name softly.

“hm?” you say, confusedly looking up at him.

“nothing,” he answers, too quickly. “i’m just... happy right now.”

you smile, radiant. “i’m glad you are.”

—

in the afternoon, you’ve grown bored and are wandering the streets of your neighborhood, voicing thoughts and pointing out people you pass by.

it’s still early, but it’s january, so the sun is already beginning to set.

when you’re a couple minutes out from your house, yūji goes quiet, and it stays like that for the rest of the walk.

and then, as he stands next to you while you unlock the door, he blurts, “i have to tell you something.”

you freeze. “what?”

it’s silent for a bit. “never mind.”

“yūji—”

“it’s okay,” he says softly.

he wants to shrink away from your gaze as you study him. he knows you know there’s something amiss, and second thoughts have almost always been his own personal hell.

graciously, though, you don’t ask. and it’s like stepping through a portal when you’re back inside; it’s all forgotten and back to how it was before.

—

but: a little while later, you’re lying side-by-side on your bed watching netflix again, and for whatever reason you turn to look at him for a moment and it’s just—

you can’t look away. and you don’t know why.

he can feel your eyes on him and it burns, and he wonders how much longer he can keep this up before he loses his mind.

when he doesn’t turn to face you, you call his name softly.

“hm?”

after an uncomfortable moment of hesitation, you say, “something’s up.”

“what?”

“yūji,” you repeat, and he forgets to breathe for a second. “are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

the mattress shifts under his weight as he sits up, resting his head in his hands. he takes a deep breath and can’t bring himself to meet your eyes.

“what’s wrong?” it sounds less like a question and more like a plea.

“i—” he starts, and then stops himself. “i can’t, i can’t do this to you.”

“can’t do what?”

there’s a painful silence, heavy with anticipation and maybe a little bit of dread.

“i don’t wanna keep hooking up with you.”

you sit up, too.

“did i...? do something wrong?”

he shakes his head and sighs, and he sounds exasperated. “it’s... no, it’s— i think...” and he seems to grow more frustrated as he fails to verbalize whatever it is, this strange cold fire stinging in the pit of his stomach.

“what do you think?” you whisper.

and he stands and walks to the door. his hand rests on the knob and he whispers back, in a voice that sounds precariously close to breaking, “you, when i... y’know. ’m sorry.”

and he’s gone.

and you have no idea what to think, both of what he just said and the fact that it sends an excited buzz through your nerves, even though it probably shouldn’t.

— IT'S HARD N IT'S HARDER TO ADMIT

his words are stuck in your head all night, have you caught somewhere in between laughing and crying.

you want to call him, ask him what the fuck is going on and why you think you kind of like it, but you don’t.

but when you look over at your alarm clock to see that it’s 2:00 a.m. and sleep refuses to let you succumb to it and you relent to the warm emptiness between your legs, it’s yūji whom you imagine is there to fill it.

you think of the way his tongue trails down the expanse of your neck, the way he feels inside you, as you whine into your pillow and desperately try to make yourself come.

it doesn’t even occur to you until later, when you’re waking up to sunlight slicing through your half-open blinds. and then it does, and you text him: i do that too.

he doesn’t text back, but ten minutes later, your phone rings. he sounds breathless.

“be here in ten,” he says.

you pause. “okay.”

and you are. he throws open the door as he hears your car pull up and jogs out to meet you, and all he gives you is a quick, “hey,” before dragging you inside.

there’s no one else home, so he motions for you to have a seat at the kitchen table and takes the one next to you.

“do what too?”

“what?”

“what you texted me.”

you look down, studying the seams of your sleeve and feeling your breathing go shallow.

“do what too?” he repeats.

and softly, you say, “want you.”

yūji stands, pulling you to your feet with him. “want me how?”

your eyes are wide and a little bit sad as you stare up at him. “i don’t know.”

then he cracks a tiny smile. “good,” he says, “i don’t either.

except he does.

he wants you every way, your presence, your time, your body, your fucking soul, all of it. but he doesn’t say that.

when you kiss him, he implodes, melts into your arms as if he’s trying to fuse your bodies together. but he says nothing of it.

the feeling of your wrist in his hand, the sound of your giddy giggles as he leads you to his bedroom—for now, that’s enough.

he takes it slow.

when he’s shut the door and ensured it’s locked, he turns to find you’ve already tossed your top on the floor.

a smile meets yours, gentle fingertips on your cheek, a soft whisper against your hair: “put it back on; i wanna do it myself.”

and you laugh and oblige, shivering at the now-familiar sensation of the warm metal bead on his tongue against your lip as his hand finds its way to your ass and squeezes gently.

“yūji,” you whisper.

“i like it when you say my name like that,” he murmurs into your shoulder, rubbing gently up and down your back underneath your shirt.

“hmm,” comes your contented response.

and then his fingers are rubbing gently against the hem of your shirt, easing it up to reveal your body inch by inch, and you shiver a little under his feather-light touch.

lifting your arms up, you allow him to slip your shirt back over your head, and then his hands are all over you again, squeezing your breasts through your bra and tracing lines up and down the center of your back. the little metal ball on his tongue presses against your lower lip. you tug at the hem of his hoodie, and he pulls it off.

the feeling of his skin on yours is nothing new now, and yet this time, there’s a certain nuance to it that he can’t place.

he wonders how you want him again; can’t stop wondering as you lead his hand down to the button on your jeans, laughing a little as he kneels at your feet to unzip them.

as he pulls them slowly down your legs he lines your thighs with little, butterfly-soft kisses, murmuring unintelligible praises.

when you’re left in only your bra and panties, he wraps his arms around your waist and falls backward onto the mattress, taking you down with him. you sit up a little, so that you’re straddling him, and he lets out a low sigh.

“you are fucking incredible,” he breathes as you suck gently at his neck, leaving light marks that will have faded by tomorrow.

your fingers trace the dips between his abs, tantalizingly, eventually making their way all the way down his stomach to the waistband of his sweats, and then a little further, palming his dick through them and feeling how fucking hard he is.

he groans a little, says, “please don’t tease me,” as you continue to do exactly that, but he doesn’t stop you.

when you shift a little so that you’re positioned right over him, soaking panties rubbing a tiny little wet spot into the tent of his erection, he sits up and gathers your body into his arms, lips and tongue moving against yours as one hand unclips your bra while the other settles itself on your hip, grinding you down against him. you press your thighs together at this feeling of pure need you’re experiencing and he pulls his mouth away and looks you in the eye.

“may i?” he whispers, and you smile and nod, laughing as he rolls you off of him to rid himself of the rest of his clothes and dig a condom out of his bedside table, which he hands to you.

you’re impatient as you tear it open but force yourself to roll it onto him slowly, studying his face as he revels in the feeling of your fingers grazing lightly against his dick.

once it’s on, he flips you over again, laughing, and exhales slowly as he slides your panties down your legs and tosses them somewhere on the floor to be found later. his fingertips ghost gently down the sides of your thighs as he bends down to lick a long stripe between your legs and across your clit.

“fuck,” you breathe as he groans softly against your skin, the vibrations sending an electrifying buzz up your spine.

he presses his tongue flat against you, metal bar circling your clit teasingly, and then he pulls away and groans, “sit on my face,” his words hurried and slurred with lust.

so you let him move to lie on his back and straddle his face, giggling as he wraps his hands around your thighs to pull you closer.

“aw, don’t be shy, i thought that’s the whole point of this,” he says.

and then his mouth is back on you again, tongue flicking slowly and carefully, taking in your every response, and soon he’s got you shaking on top of him, grasping at the headboard and his shoulders and tangling your fingers in his hair.

he keeps going after you’ve already finished, making you writhe and whimper, only letting go of you once he’s satisfied.

he pushes you backward so that you’re still sitting with your knees on either side of him and he sits up, leaning back against the headboard. his lips are on yours, then, and he’s pulling your hips to his, the head of his cock nudging ever-so-lightly against your entrance.

“quit teasing me,” you whine when he grips your waist, refusing to let you sit yourself on his dick.

“i’m not.”

“yes you are!”

“‘m not,” he mumbles, smiling, as he draws his lips down the curve of your left shoulder and back up again. “i’m savoring the moment.”

you huff. “you can savor it with your cock in me.” and yūji does his best not to show it, but the high he gets from those words alone, from knowing how desperate you are for him, even if it’s just for his body, sends him straight to heaven. because regardless of how much of him you want, it’s still only him that you want in this moment, and right now that’s enough.

you allow him to move at his own pace, his movements slow, languid as he holds you to his chest, one hand around your waist and the other reaching up to tangle his fingers in your hair. he lets himself say the things he wants now.

“kiss me?” he whispers, and you oblige happily. you taste like him, and he’s so content he could lose his mind.

instead he loses himself to you, shaky breaths between “god, you’re so good,” and “you have no idea… how long i’ve waited… for you to want me like this.” there’s a single thing he holds back from saying, but he still plans on saying it. he’s just saving it for the right moment.

you’re drunk off of him, your body shuddering against him with every touch of his skin to yours, not knowing what to say and yet feeling as if you know everything you’ve ever needed to. and you say it for him.

“i love you.”

the words are barely there, just a breath against his lips as you kiss him, and it’s too much for him. he finishes with something akin to a sob, taking your face into his hands. “i love you,” he responds. and then, “say it again? please?”

you close your eyes and smile, leaning into him and brushing your lips against his. “i love you, yūji.”

his hand’s on the back of your head, then, pushing you back to his mouth, wanting you closer, wanting more. and you want more, too, fingers tracing lines down his back and arms and stomach, sending waves of light through his skin. this is it, he thinks as you press your body tight against his, this is all there is.

you are everything to him.

— SOMETHING ABT U I CAN’T QUIT

in each other’s arms later that evening, you feel yūji’s chest move slowly up and down with each inhale and exhale, contented in sharing this silent moment with you, and then you know. you know how you want him. you open your mouth to speak, and he does at the exact same time. the two of you share a laugh, just like you always have.

“you first,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbow so that you can look at him properly.

he reaches up and rests a hand flat against your face and runs his thumb lightly over your bottom lip. “i am…” the words are slow and quiet and purposeful. “i am so in love with you.”

your smile widens against his hand. “i want you. everything… about you, with you. i want it all.”

and he mirrors your grin, just like he always has. “i’m yours to take.” his eyes flit down to your lips, his thumb still pressed against them, afraid to look you in the eye as he speaks his next words. his face flushes pink; it’s adorable. “say you’re mine, too?” it’s a request, a plea—not a command.

you reach up to your face and place your hand over his. “all yours,” you say. “don’t even have to ask.”

it’s silent for a bit again, and then he sits up, going a little more serious.

“what?”

“what happens if this doesn’t last?”

you sit up, too, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and gently pulling his head to rest against yours. “after all these years?”

“hmm.”

you think for a moment: after all these years. your whole lives, spent together, maybe not as lovers but always as two halves of a whole. it’s him you always gossip to first, whom you always went to after heartbreaks and fights with your parents. he’s the first one you told when you lost your virginity, crashed your car, got into one of your top universities. he’s held your hand through everything.

so finally you say, “i don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

he pulls away to look you in the eye. “why not?”

his nose brushes against yours as you lean your forehead against his and laugh a little. “are you dumb, yūji?”

“i don’t think so?” when you say nothing, just continuing to look at him with that shit-eating grin on your face, he goes, “am i missing something?”

you press your lips to his for a second and pull away, still smiling at him. “it’s us, yūji. always has been.”

[theblvckvenus]

Tonight’s Show

Summary: You come home to surprise Chris and his interviewer. But the excitement gets him the better of him and as soon as its over you’re in big trouble.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader, Chris Evans x Fem Reader

Warning: NSFW, sub/dom, (light) choking, fingering (f receiving), riding, porn

*18+ ONLY*

You heard Chris’ voice as you returned from the run. He was just finishing up the conversation with the interviewer, and you had timed your return perfectly so as not to disturb him. He’d done so many of these it sounded like a natural conversation as his laughter floated through the hallway towards you. You slipped your trainers off, padding down to lean quietly in the doorway of the room he was sat in. You were definetly out of view of the camera, but not Chris’ periphery and he turned to glance over at your figure. 

His eyes travelled up your sweaty frame appreciatively before settling on your eyes for a moment. His hand beneath the cameras view motioned you inside and he turned back to the host, letting him finish his sentence before he interrupted.

“Well Jimmy, you’re a really lucky man because the real star of the show is here.” he said warmly, leaning back against his chair as you made your way slowly towards him. There was a feeling of worry in your chest as you ran a hand through your hair. You were messy and hot, not in a good way, but he’d introduced you now and it was too late to hide.

His invitation was punctuated with a large hand extended to you and you paused beside him leaning down to wave politely at the man. “Hey, sorry to crash your chat.”

Jimmy laughed, the typical showman personality turning on as he introduced you to the audience, chatting over you which allowed a moment with Chris.

“Sit on my lap, little one?” he managed to speak to you without evidence of the words showing on camera. You nodded, settling yourself on his large thigh, keeping your eyes fixed to the screen a smile on your face. Chris’ hand rested on the small of your back as he continued engaging with the host, but you felt a light pressure pushing you forward on him, causing you to bite your lip. There was no way he was trying to pull this now. You kept your face a picture of calm, but beneath your legs were squirming slightly against his trying to stop the motion. 

The movement of your hips was hidden from the webcam as he guided you over his leg and back again. Your legs dangled either side of his thigh and it was quickly becoming apparent to you what he wanted. His left arm encased itself around your waist, using the purchase to slide you up and down, all the while maintaining his conversation.

You could already feel your heat responding to his actions with a receptive ache. As he spoke, Chris’ hand wandered down to your entrance, fingers edging over it through the lycra of your leggings. He stroked lightly along your nether lips and your other hand reached to rest on his knee, digging your nails into it to tell him enough. 

It didn’t seem to make a difference as the edge of his finger moved up and slipped into the waistband of your pants, hand cupping your heat as his thumb brushed over your clit. Chris’ other hand lifted to wave goodbye to the host, with a friendly smile that you tried to emmulate. Man he was good at his job if he could keep this act up whilst pushing his fingers inside you.

Finally the interview ended, and Chris leant forward his free hand smacking the laptop down. “Don’t you dare stop riding my thigh, little one.” The words errpted from him with a growl against your neck, shoving your waist forward to move you faster, spurred on as you let out a loud moan.

You shuddered against his body pressing yourself back against him. “That was dangerous.” You chided quietly, dropping your neck back so your head could rest on his neck. His fingers curled within you as they started to pump faster now, speeding in and out of you only making the movement of your hips more erratic.

“Don’t stop till you come or I will show you real danger.” He muttered against your shoulder, arm holding your waist to push you down against his thigh, the wetness of you runing across his leg. The sensation from your heat only caused him to jolt his leg up, forcing a yelp from your lips. "That’s it kitten, moan for me you know how I like it.”

You quivered over his leg, the words tipping you over the edge as loud moan after moan tumbled from your lips, a complete mess for him on his thigh. 

“That’s it baby they can’t hear you now.” He said arm brushing up from your stomach to snake around your neck, fingers closing tightly at it. “After this I’m going to fuck you so good these hips won’t work for a month.” He growled causing you to reach for the desk, both hands holding it tightly, nails scraping along the wood as you struggled to fight off your orgasm.

“Come for me.” He said lowly into your ear, warm breath tickling your lobe. You didn’t need to hear it twice, his words shattering the little restraint you had on your body, hips shaking as you surrendered to the feeling, gravity forcing you down on his thigh.

Chris allowed you to ride out the last of your orgasm, kissing sloppily up the nape of your neck till you’d finished shaking in his arms. He chuckled lightly bouncing his legs a couple times to send a final few shivers up your spine.

“Wouldn’t those fans like to see what a little whore you can be.” He chuckled, the words causing you nudge him weakly in annoyance. He chuckled apologetically, arm slipping under your thighs, lifting you from his leg and twisting you with a grip on your throat so you were sat on the desk now. 

“I’m sorry little one, did that upset you? Well I’m going to fuck you now, as if the whole audience was watching. Will that make it better?” His free hand, roughly pulled your leggings down to your knees, panties joining them seconds later. 

The question prompted a faux-innocent nod from you as he lifted himself from the seat, standing at full height to look down at you. The nod from you only caused him to smile lightly, stroking your cheek lightly in affection.

“It’s not going to get itself out is it princess.” he said in a sweet tone, guiding your hands to his trousers. Your fingers took over, undoing the zipper, pushing his pants and boxers down allowing his member to spring free. Your eyes travelled up to fix back on his, waiting for his next direction before you dared touch.

“Open that mouth for me baby.” he said quietly and you obliged quickly. Chris raised a hand fingers running over your tongue before pushing past to the back of your throat causing you to cough softly. “Hands under your chin.” he said quietly and as you followed the order he jabbed his hand again, causing drool to slip down your lip into your waiting hands. 

“Good girl, you know what to do don’t you baby. Making this easier for youself.” he said quietly. You moved your hands down to his member, covering it in your drool, enjoying the feel of his shaft under your hands.

Chris groaned quietly at the feeling leaning forward to kiss your head and as he moved, his tip brushed lightly against your entance. His hands caught your wrists, holding them down onto the edge of the desk. “Hold onto this little one, you just keep hold of that.” He said quietly, pushing inside of you the feeling causing your legs to close either side of him.

But Chris was faster than you and his palms were dragging your legs back apart, holding them there as he buried his whole length inside you, watching eagerly for your reaction as you moaned loudly.

“That’s my good little girl. Take it all for me.” he chuckled watching you spasm on his dick as your body tried to return from its last orgasm. Chris’ hips pulled away only to to slam back into you, each thrust pushing you back down against the desk. 

His slams were were shaking the desk, body shielding down over you as your moaned against his collar. Chris was surprisingly quiet, all his effort seemed to be focussed on you, hands still clamped on your wrists.

As his actions sped up you heard the clatter of objects falling behind you followed by the loud thud of his MacBook hitting the carpet. You swore trying to turn in his arms to check but his rhythm never faltered, hand catching the back of your head to force you to keep looking at him. 

“Don’t you fucking look away from me princess. Don’t you want to watch Daddy while he destroys you? Or would you prefer me to press your little face against this desk?”

The words drew a whimper from your lips, the sound followed by a quick no as you knew better than to leave a question unaswered. Your hands struggled in his grip causing him to release them and you slipped your arms round his neck, clinging onto him tightly as he pounded himself into you. 

Chris emptied into you, shoving your body back, hand on your chest slamming your back down against the desk. He kept thrusting as your walls clenched round him milking the seed from him as you squirmed on the desk.

“Come for me y/n.” He just managed to grunt out, through clenched jaw. Chris’ fists rested either side of your chest, completely spent as he breathed heavily. At his words your legs shook around him, a choked moan rising from you as your body caved beneath him.

He recovered to watch you cumming on his dick, the sight only pleasing him more as he leant down to kiss your open mouth. You were completely exhausted beneath him now and he seemed to know, pulling out of you and slipping your leggings down over your ankles. He pressed a light kiss against your sensitive area causing you to sit back upright to watch his movements. 

Chris pulled you into his arms as soon as you were up, carrying you in a bridal hold out of the study, probably towards the bathroom. “I’ve got another interview after lunch, any chance you want to interrupt that one too?” he muttered against your hair, causing you to smile into his chest.