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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

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i'm outta my head over you Pt. 3

prologue (Pt. 1) | Pt. 2 | AO3 | playlist for this fic

btw, this whole concept is definitely not based on my own steddie playlist and masterpost for why i added each song 👀

today's @steddie-week prompt is: angst

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Steve’s dealing with his feelings just fine, thanks.

He’s not pissed at Eddie for the stunt he pulled back in the upside down.

Not at all!

Steve snatched Eddie up in a bridal carry, yelling at Robin and Nancy to help Dustin up to follow them back to the gate, because he’s head over heels for the stupid man bleeding out all down the front of his shirt.

Steve brute forces his way through the Munson’s ceiling one-handed and lands a bit too hard on one knee on the other side because he can’t imagine a life without Eddie Munson now that he’s in it.

Steve keeps his fingers pressed into the mangled wounds on Eddie's side all the way to the hospital to keep him awake and sobbing for Steve to “Let go! Why are you hurting me?” because he’s pretty sure he’s in love.

Or at least, he could be. Someday soon. He’s certain of that.

He loses time after finally letting Eddie go, safe on a gurney that was speeding into the ER.

He was standing there, watching as Eddie was wheeled away through big double doors, then he was on the floor. The collapse onto his ass does not exist in his mind; one second he was standing, and the next, his legs were crumpled under him and his right asscheek hurts. Nancy and Robin are there too, crouched in front of him with twin looks of worry on their faces and he can see Dustin behind them, trying to shove the nurses who are looking at his ankle away in order to get to Steve.

“Dusty,” his voice is a cracking whisper, “Dusty, stay there, I’m fine.”

“Steve, Steve, what happened, are you alright?” he sluggishly turns his head toward Nancy’s voice, but never gets there. His memory goes blank again.

When he comes to, he’s laid out in a bed of his own. The flimsy papery gown already slipping from his shoulders and the thin hospital blanket he was given doing nothing to stave off the cold feeling of IV fluid rushing through his veins.

He blinks the crust away from his eyes and looks around.

He’s in a hospital room, naturally, a couple empty chairs sit opposite him along the wall, there’s a window out to the setting sun (rising sun? How long was he out??), and beside him is another bed, a familiar head of curls atop an unfamiliar small form.

“Eddie?” he tries to say, but no sound comes out. “Eddie!” he tries again, only getting a hoarse whisper this time.

Eddie doesn’t move, but Steve sure as hell does. He needs to get up, needs to get to his friend, is he okay? Why does he look like that? Eddie's nowhere near this small or fragile, he’s loud and nearly as tall as Steve is! He needs to help him, needs to–

“Steven, Steven!” there’s a hand on his arm, stopping him from rolling out of bed fully.

Later, he’ll kick himself for his total lack of response, but at the moment, all he does is freeze.

“Mr. Harrington, please sit back, relax. Please.”

Steve does as the voice asks and lays back down, looking over at the person at the side of his bed.

The older gentleman is familiar somehow, but his still-foggy brain isn’t pulling up the name.

“Good morning Steven, or should I say Good evening?” the man’s eyes crinkle up at the corners with his smile.

“How long was I out? Where is everyone? Is Dustin okay? What about Max? Why does Eddie look so small? He–” Steve’s voice started out okay, an audible whisper, but completely fell off by the end of his questioning and the man cutting him off with a shake of his head and a hand on his shoulder.

“Calm down, Mr. Harrington.”

“Steve.” Steve manages to whisper. Damn his throat is sore.

“Steve. Everyone’s okay, it’s after visiting hours so your ‘party’? I think I heard one of your younger friends say? Have all gone home for the night. Including Mr. Henderson; his mother picked him up with a cast on his leg. Broken ankle and a fractured tibia.

“Ms. Mayfield is just down the hall, with a couple broken bones herself. As for Mr. Munson, he’s stable, heavily bandaged, and will likely be out for a while more. You’ve been out for about 20 hours.”

Steve stared at this man, he must be a doctor, while his brain processed that information. He wanted to relax back into the uncomfortable hospital mattress and pillow but, “Who are you?’

The man’s immediately apologetic. “Oh goodness, I’m so sorry. I should have introduced myself. I’m Dr. Owens from the Hawkins Lab.”

Again, Steve starts to move, shuffling backward as best he can with all his limbs still feeling boneless, but he needs to get up! Get between this man and Eddie.

“Steve, Steve, please relax, I’m here to help you.”

Steve sits back, though reluctantly since he physically can’t do much else. “Forgive me for being suspicious of that.” His voice is getting a bit stronger now from using it around the pain.

“That’s fair,” Dr. Owens chuckles, mostly to himself. “Please, hear me out.”

Steve says nothing, so Owens takes this as his sign to continue.

“You lost a lot more blood than either you or your friends realized. The adrenaline kept you going until you were safe at the hospital–”

“Until Dustin and Eddie were safe in the hospital.” Steve corrects on instinct. He was definitely not there for himself.

Owens smiles. “Of course. Yes, once your friends were safely being taken care of, or taken back to be in Mr. Munson’s case, your adrenaline dropped off rapidly, and you passed out in the ER lobby.

“Ms. Wheeler called me when they took you back too, worried about what the staff would start to think when they saw your injuries, so I came as soon as I could.

“I got here just as your friends were being asked to leave, so I only got bits of what happened from Ms. Wheeler and Ms. Buckley.”

Steve’s gaze had drifted back to Eddie while Dr. Owens talked, looking over the visible bandages wrapped around him, the equally thin blanket tucked around his frame, the bags under his eyes, the handcuffs linked from the bed frame to his wris–

“What the hell is that doing on him..”

“I’m sorry?”

“What in the HELL is that doing on his wrist?” Steve manages to yell, whipping his head around to glare at Owens.

“What are you–oh, I see. The handcuffs…we’re still working on that.”

“Well work faster. Eddie didn’t do anything wrong, he saved this fuckin’ town!”

“I believe you, Steve. Please calm down. We’ll get Mr. Munson’s name cleared.”

Steve focuses on steadying his breaths, watching the rise and fall of Eddie’s own chest.

Owens seems to know what it is he’s doing, as once he’s calmed down, he speaks again. “Steve, can you tell me what happened?”

Shit, he focused too hard on calming himself down. “Not now, sleep.” Steve says, already fading back out. “Morning. Nancy, Dustin.”

He’s asleep after that.

—

The next day finds him being bombarded (painfully) by Dustin (“OOf! Dusty, careful, I’m all bandaged up, remember?”), and joint upside-down rundown to Dr. Owens (who pales at the mention of Henry/Vecna/001) with Nancy, Robin, and Erica.

A plan is made in the next couple days, Owens, the newly not-dead Hopper, and Nancy heading up the ‘official’ story about what happened to Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick and what to do about Jason Carver and his mob-starting mentality against Eddie.

Lucky for them, Jason was in the hospital too, after the beating he took from Lucas. The assault of a minor really didn’t look good on him, and the hits to the head helped scramble his memories enough that he mostly forgot about Eddie (Plus some extra secret government influence sprinkled in for good measure).

Until everything was sorted, an unconscious Eddie remained in cuffs. Something that irked Steve to no end.

After he was discharged himself, Steve basically lived at the hospital.

He’d greet the nurses that were kind to Eddie, and snub the few others who weren’t. He thought about getting his mom on the phone just for her to say some choice words to the hospital’s Chief of Medicine, the Head of the Board of Directors, someone about the exactly zero doctors here who really showed any care for his friend, but he didn’t think she would be counted amongst the few people who were.

He haunted the hall between Eddie and Max’s rooms from first thing every morning to just before security is called to escort him out every evening, sharing his time between the two of them about 70/30 (Lucas was in Max’s room constantly, and if Steve hovered for too long Max would start pelting him with tongue depressors), spending a majority of the day at Eddie’s side with a couple others; mostly Dustin, but all the party would visit Eddie as often as their parents would allow; Steve made himself scarce when Eddie’s bandmates would come to visit, not wanting to make them uncomfortable with “King Steve”s presence.

Some days were just he and Eddie and the steady beeping of the heart monitor.

Steve’d sit beside him, listening to music, or reading, or attempting to read aloud that Hobbit book Dustin brought by. He’d make sure Eddie’s wrist under the cuff didn��t get raw and chafed by rubbing lotion into the skin there and over his cracked knuckles (he also wanted to do something about the dreadful cracking that was happening to his lips around the tube in his throat, but worried that’d be taking it a step too far).

And he thought.

He thought a lot.

A lot about how he felt about Eddie, over and over about what he could do after he was safely discharged too, would he even have the guts to tell him his feelings?

Steve knew he could wait, wait until Eddie was much healthier, far more healed. He’d waited this long, what was a little longer?

Steve debated not telling Eddie at all. He heavily debated it, actually. Within a few short hours of really knowing Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington knew his life wouldn’t be the same. He could not imagine any version of his future without Eddie in it now that he was there. Why risk the awkwardness if Eddie didn’t feel the same? Why take the chance?

His few hours away from the hospital would be where he did most of his agonizing over it; barely able to sleep, able to function besides his basic needs.

Two of their party, their little family, were in the hospital right now and Steve couldn’t stop himself thinking it was his fault they were there. The hospital staff constantly told him that they both were stable and well on the mend in Max’s case, but all he could think of when he wasn’t there was that somehow both of them would crash; an invisible, undetected infection had taken hold way too fast to act, or bone shard had wandered off somewhere it wasn’t supposed to.

His thoughts made it near impossible to sleep, the echoing empty of his house was no help either. He could really only calm down when he was at the hospital and could easily put eyes on both Eddie and Max.

Then, because of the lack of sleep away from the hospital, he’d always end up crashing there in Eddie’s room, twisted into the chair at his bedside with his fingers curled into the sheets next to Eddie’s hip.

It was after one of these chair naps that Steve first met Wayne Munson.

Steve fell asleep later than normal, so he woke up a bit later than he normally would. Somehow, he was skipped over during security’s rounds that night and awoke a good bit after visiting hours were over.

Not wanting to make things worse for himself if he wanted to come back later, he uncurls and reaches for his bag.

He rubbed the lotion into Eddie’s wrist under the cuff as best he could, over his cracked knuckles, and over the rest of his hands, trying to warm them up a bit and not-so-subtly also checking for bedsores on the backs of his friend’s arms at the same time.

He was just adjusting the pillow under Eddie’s head like he always does before leaving for the day when a voice boomed into the room.

“Who the hell are you?!”

Steve whips around to look at the source of the voice from where he’s hunched over Eddie’s head.

The older man in the doorway is tall, the top of his bald head only a few inches shy of the doorframe, though that could also be due to the heavy-looking workboots on his feet, poking out from under the legs of a well-worn, grease stained set of coveralls.

“Who are you, and what’re you doin’ with my boy?!”

Steve immediately stands straight, his hands up in surrender. “I’m Steve Harrington, sir,” he starts, putting one hand out for Wayne to shake, “You must be Wayn–”

“A Harrington, huh? Get the hell away from my son, Harrington.” Wayne hisses and steps forward between Steve and Eddie’s bedside in an impressive three strides and immediately worrying over the bandage on Eddie’s cheek.

Steve backs up as requested, both hands back up. “Please, Mr. Munson, I’m his friend, I was only–”

“Don’t lie to me, boy. No Harrington would ever dare to be friends with someone of our kind.” he says over his shoulder. Steve knows that tone, someone’s said that to him before. ‘One guess as to who.’ Steve’s brain supplies, very unhelpfully.

“You ain’t hurting my Eddie if I have anything to say about it, now get the hell out of here before I get you thrown out!”

“Yes sir, of course. I’m sorry..” Steve acquiesces immediately, he’s not about to fight the man on this, especially not with what he’d gone through.

He grabs up his bag and leaves, rushing out to his car before his thoughts finally catch up with him.

‘That’s it. That’s all the time I’ll ever have with him. Wayne Munson won’t let me near him again and I’m already going out of my mind without him.’

Steve’s in his car now, staring blankly out the windshield. He slowly lowers his forehead to the wheel in front of him, onto the backs of his hands.

“…Fuck…”

-----

Eddie listens intently to the first four songs, imagining what about each of them Steve is trying to tell him beyond what is written down, laughs at the inclusion of Runnin’ with the Devil (though he really hopes Steve’s note about Ozzy was just there by happenstance and not because he thinks Ozzy is part of Van Halen).

‘Damn he’s cheesy as hell.’ Eddie thinks fondly.

His eyes glance over to the little blurb for the next song when Out Of Touch starts to fade out.

“...the fuck?” He says, and pauses the tape.

Under Be My Baby - The Ronettes, Steve had written “Teddy, your uncle is fuckin terrifying...but he’s got great taste in music.”

“What in the hell??”

Part 4 here!

wayne can be a lil' scary. as a treat.

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mini-sae · 1 year

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Marc Spector alphabet

A ( aftercare ) : Either that he's rough or not, Marc always takes time soothing you. He's gentle and so soft with you. It's an effort for him to not sleep shortly after he cummed, but he knows he won't be able to sleep until he's sure you're totally fine.

B ( body part ) : Marc loves caressing your thighs. Touching them, kissing them. Lifting them and putting them on his shoulders while diving into you. And if there is meat on them, he's in heaven.

C ( cum ) : Unlike Steven, Marc loves to make a mess. He always watching his cum leaking out of your pussy. Or your mouth.

D ( dirty secret ) : Everytime he cums in you, he likes to imagine that he's breeding you. He doesn't dare telling you cause he's afraid you wouldn't want a child with him, never. As if...

E ( experience ) : Marc has a lot of experience. Sexual and emotional. He used to be married and before and after his marriage, he had his share of gitlfriends and one nightstands. But none of that prepared him for the way he fell for you. It still amazes him that he's able to feel so much for someone else.

F ( favorite position ) : Good ol' missionary. Where he's in control and where he can see your pretty face. And you can touch him anywhere you want.

G ( goofy ) : Marc has a great sense of humor. But not in bed. During sex, he's entirely focused on you or he's in desperate need of comfort and tenderness.

H ( hair ) : Just like his alters. Pubic hair, that's all.

I ( intimacy ) : it's between your legs that Marc is the most vulnerable. When he's not fucking you like crazy, he holds you dearly like he was afraid to see you slip away. He keeps telling you that you're everything to him. And he loves hearing you say that you will never leave him.

J ( jack off ) : Anytime he's on a mission for Konshu, his thoughts are on you. And in the rare nights he has to spend away from you, he touches himself. Imagining having you in every way he likes.

K ( kink ) : He likes chocking you when he takes you from behind. Not to hurt you or to overpower you. But because he marvels in the way you trust him with such a gesture. You perfectly know that he would never hurt you. And that just make him feel so loved.

L ( location ) : He's the most comfortable at home, even though he likes to take you in unexpected places. But at home, there's not a furniture he didn't fuck you on. He likes bending you over while you're cooking or cleaning. And you never get tired of it.

M ( motivation ) : Actually, you don't need to motivate him. Your man tries to get in your pants any chance he get. You often find yourself on your back because you were touching, kissing, or eyeing him in a funny way. Witch you didn't btw.

N ( no ) : Hurting you is a no, but hurting him his a freaking fucking no. He told you that right away. He can tolerate some hair pulling and scratches on his back. But that's the most he will enjoy in roughness.

O ( oral ) : Marc loves when you suck him off, but he loves eating you out even more. Maybe even more than Steven. He loves your taste. There's not an inch of your pussy his tongue didn't lick. He only stops when you can't take any more of it.

P ( pace ) : It's all or nothing. Marc can be as rough as Jake and tender like Steven. But there's no inbetween.

Q ( quickie ) : Yes yes yes. Marc always wants you. Either there's time for it or not. And when you think there's no time, he proves you wrong in making you cum in no time.

R ( risk ) : Always. Marc loves to take you to restaurants, theaters, beautiful gardens... And everytime, he manages to find a place for the two of you. And he loves challenging you at staying quiet.

S ( stamina ) : That man is unstoppable. Once he's in you, he stays in you for so long. And you better be prepared for the next rounds.

T ( toys ) : Marc loves to fuck you with a sex toy while you're going down on him. Sometimes he puts the toy down your throat while taking you hard.

U ( unfair ) : No. Like Steven, he doesn't have the heart to make you beg and cry. It's actually a touchy subject with Jake. He always yelling at him in the headspace to stop.

V ( volume ) : Marc is not shy about voicing his pleasure. He whines, rumbles, growls. His sighs are so hot near your ear.

W ( wild card ) : He just loves cumming on your face. He smears it with his cock or his hand when he's done, and ask you to sleep like this, unless you mind. And you don't mind, never.

X ( x ray ) : Years as a mercenary did it's job. He's so solid that you feel like a tiny thing when you're in his arms.

Y ( yearning ) : Always. Marc is always yearning for you, no matter what. Even if you made love a few minutes ago, he still yearns for your body.

Z ( zzz ) : As a mercenary, Marc learned to sleep anywhere and in any conditions. But that was before you. He can't sleep if you're not here. If he doesn't see you or feel you, he's wide awake. But when you're here, he sleeps. He sleeps without nightmares.

#fic #x reader #fluff #story #lovers #fanfic #fanfiction #moon knight #marc spector #marc spector × reader #alphabet

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bit-dodgy-innit · 2 years

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Sweet as Honey(moon)

A/N: Okayyy let’s escape away to Greece for some sexin, shall we? Just as a reminder these are all part of my little SHAPE OF YOU AU

The Prompt: The Honeymoon 😈

Requested by: loveliest of lovelies @dawnsutopia

Pairing: Marc x afab!reader, Steven x afab!reader and Jake x afab!reader, Reader is married to the system

Word Count: 9.4k (back to my self-indulgent waysss)

Spice-o-meter: 🌶🌶🌶🌶, Rated Tre Explicit, Minors DNI

CW/TW: This is a...how you say...a fook-est? I mean our couple is on their honeymoon after all. We have fingering (f receiving), indecent things with Marc’s wedding bad, oral sex (f and m receiving), p in v sex, anal sex, pool sex, nipple play, lingerie, the boys being co-conscious during sex, dirty talk, spanking, nipple play, a brief mention of “dumbification” (which this fandom taught me about btw so 😳), light spanking, mucho aftercare, teasing, exhibitionism though it’s not specified if anyone sees or hears them, squirting, multiple orgasms, and fluff!

“On behalf of all of us, welcome to Mykonos,” the polite-to-a-fault receptionist said as he activated your keycards, “and congratulations on your nuptials, Mr. and Mrs. Spector.”

You grinned so widely at the use of your new surname your face could split in half. Despite a turbulent four hour flight from London and being hungover as shit, you were deliriously happy, leaning into Marc’s side —your husband’s side— while you checked into the resort where you’d be spending the next ten days on your honeymoon.

You two had kept the wedding on the smaller side. The ceremony itself had been incredibly private and intimate, just you, your boys, your parents and a trusted rabbi at a local synagogue. This was so that you could exchange vows with Marc, Steven and Jake each individually. Afterwards, you’d booked the Gallery Room at the ever-so-posh Bluebird in Chelsea to host a reception for forty friends and extended family.

The more subdued – though still somehow overwhelming to plan – wedding meant that you and your husband could splash out on the honeymoon, which is exactly what you’d done with the resort you’d booked here in Greece. The stunning beauty of the island didn’t hit you until you were being escorted to your room and could take in the stark white walls, ancient stone, clear blue sky, and even clearer, bluer water for yourself.

Your suite echoed the landscape, eschewing any color or even decor on the walls for crisp white plaster and massive windows that framed picturesque views of the ocean. Everything from the furniture to the linens were warm neutrals and earth hewn materials. The focal point of the space was no doubt the sliders flung wide open led to an ample balcony that boasted a plush daybed and a small private pool. It was a dream come to life as far as you were concerned.

The bellboy unloaded your luggage and after he left with a tip, you and Marc launched yourself at each other. He tackled you back onto the large plush bed.

“This is insane,” you managed to pant in between kisses, “it’s even more beautiful here than I thought it’d be.”

“Good,” Marc grunted, stripping out of his t-shirt and swiftly moving to discard his joggers as well. He was getting right to it then.

Last night seemed to whiz by in a blur of laughter, alcohol, dancing, and toasts to the happy couple. Unlike the romance novels you’d read as an adolescent, your wedding night was not the raucous night of passion that had graced the pages you’d secretly devoured. You and your husband were exhausted. Though between the three of them, Jake was able to get it up and indulge in some soft, sleepy, tipsy sex in missionary before the pair of you conked out.

It felt as if you’d only closed your eyes for a few minutes when the car service woke you with their courtesy call to inform you that they were outside, and you both napped on the plane. Now however, it seemed that Marc was rearing to go.

He rid you of the tacky, but incredibly comfy, bride-themed matching sweats your uni friends had gotten for your hen do as a gag gift and you couldn’t help but giggle while you rolled around together on top of the bed.

“Mr. and Mrs. Spector,” you echoed breathily while Marc nibbled on your ear, grinding his already rock hard erection into your bare leg.

“Has a nice to ring it,” he murmured. Layla hadn’t taken his name when they had wed. It didn’t bother Marc, more and more women were choosing not to, and she had her own reasons for keeping her maiden name. But the fact that you’d wanted to, that you were happy to become a Spector despite all the baggage that name held, made Marc’s heart soar.

“Mmmmhmm,” you agreed. “A good thing since we’ll be using it for quite a while.”

“Forever,” your husband specified, parting your folds with his fingers.

Your eyes were drawn to the platinum band that now encircled his left ring finger. “Forever.”

Marc caught you watching him and a wicked idea formed in his mind. Steven raised the concern if it was sanitary, yet Jake quickly overruled him and told Marc to do it anyway. Those two truly felt like the trope of the devil and angel on his shoulder sometimes.

Instead of easing his index or middle finger inside of you to begin prepping you for his dick, Marc penetrated you with his ring finger. You gasped at the audacious move, letting out a little yelp when you felt the precious metal of the ring breach your entrance, warm from Marc’s skin but still cooler than the heat of your cunt.

Marc’s dark eyes gazed up at you from those ridiculously long eyelashes of his. “That feel good?”

“Yeah,” came your breathless reply. The both of you stared mesmerized as his finger plunged in and out of your pussy, enthralled with how Marc’s wedding band would disappear and re-emerge from your cunt.

Soon your sounds indicated to Marc that you needed more, and he was all too happy to comply. His middle finger joined the other digit, making sure you were stretched enough to take his cock, which currently was so hard he likely could cut glass at this point.

Your husband tugged on your hips, positioning your bum on the edge of bed to lock your legs around him. He took his cock in hand and entered you in a smooth shove of his pelvis. You both moaned at the feeling of becoming one, as if it had been weeks since you’d been together like this and not a matter of hours.

Marc was eager, you could tell from the way he jackrabbited his hips into you. It was the kind of rough fucking that emptied your mind of everything but the stretch of your tight channel around his considerable girth. You were all too happy to succumb to it, you were in Greece, the wedding was over, and all of your responsibilities were thousands of miles away in London.

His hand found your clit quickly and rubbed the bud with harsh strokes. You gasped and dug your heels into the bottom of his back to pull him closer.

“Not going to last long,” Marc revealed while he hammered you, “wanted you since we woke up.”

“That’s okay honey,” you soothed him. After all, you’d gotten some last night. A little shiver ran through through you when you realized this was the first time you and Marc were having sex a married couple. Marc Spector, the man who was so convinced he was unworthy of happiness and did everything he could to push you away, was now making love to you on your honeymoon.

He dropped down lower, his hands covering your breasts, which sent another, more prominent shiver through you as Marc chased his release. The movement of his hips switched, his thrusts became grinds, which allowed your clit to receive some stimulation too.

You studied Marc’s face fondly, enjoying the view of his Adam's apple as it bobbed, the short black hair that was beginning to curl from the sweat gathering at his hairline, and of course, that face, so handsome and contorted in pleasure, only made more beautiful when he spurted his hot seed inside of you.

After he came down, Marc fell onto his forearms to nuzzle your face with his.

“Hi,” he whispered, peppering your face with kisses. You giggled and squirmed at the attention.

He gently took his cock from your pussy, then knelt before your slit at the side of the bed.

“Hun…”

Marc knew that tone of voice of yours, it was the inflection you used when you told him “not to worry about it”. He cursed all the men that’d allowed you to think that your pleasure wasn’t as, if not more important, than his. Marc bit the inside of your thigh playfully to stop you. “Hey, I’m fulfilling my husbandly duties here, okay?”

You surrendered with a shy little grin. He knew tossing a reference to your newly minted marriage would end your protests. Marc got to work, licking a stripe up your folds to taste the two of you before sucking on your clit and inserted two fingers into you to stimulate your g-spot. Whines and shaking legs soon followed as you came on Marc’s thick digits.

Before he could rise fully to grab a cloth for you, you grabbed his wrist and sucked his ring finger into your warm, wet mouth, fellating the band with your tongue. Its metallic taste was new to you and honestly, rather unpleasant, but the way Marc looked at you while you did it was well worth it.

“Fuck baby,” he groaned once you released him. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair sheepishly, “I really pounced on you just now, didn’t I?”

You sat up too. “No complaints here.”

Marc drew you up to standing to kiss you and the both of you tended to yourselves in the bathroom. You took turns relieving yourselves and Marc splashed water on his face. You emerged from the little stall for the toilet with a request. “We should cool off in the pool.”

Your husband cocked a brow. “Bathing suits optional, I’m assuming?”

“What’s the point of having a private pool if you’re not going to skinny dip?”

“And people think I only married you for your beauty,” he joked.

This had to be heaven, you concluded. You and Marc floated in the pool together for a little while, both made speechless by the beauty of the Aegean before you, then toweled off and dozed in the shade together on the daybed.

When you roused, you automatically pecked the dip that ran between your husband’s pecs, just under his chain with the star of David. When your eyes met, you could tell by the softness in them and the little quirk of his lips that it was Steven gazing back at you.

“Well hello Mrs. Grant,” he murmured. Though technically on paper you’d taken the surname Spector, you planned to use Mrs. Grant and Mrs. Lockley respectively when the other boys fronted.

“Hello yourself Doctor Grant,” you beamed back. “Happy honeymoon.”

“Happy honeymoon indeed,” he concurred, “This is the ideal way to wake up, I think…naked, you in my arms, and with ocean views.”

“I can’t help but agree. Come back in the pool with me.”

Steven followed you, both of you luxuriating in the cooling water. Even though it was pretty big for an in-room pool, you two refused to spread out. Steven held you into his arms once again, so close to one another you could distinguish each and every droplet of water that clung to his neck, collarbones, and face.

Your lips drifted together in a liplock that quickly escalated and deepened. Steven’s large hands cupped your ass, giving it a squeeze, lifting you to walk to the edge of the pool. He parted your legs while you procured a towel to sit on.

You continued to trade deep, passionate kisses while Steven stood still half-submerged in the water between your thighs, the sun warming your skin as you got lost in each other. His lips drifted down to your neck and clavicle, and his fingers found your core. He began with gentle touches and strokes between your folds, inserting a finger to feel your wetness and the remnants of his alter’s cum.

“Baby,” you gasped when his thumb pressed into your clit.

“What do you want, darling?” He rasped.

“Your mouth,” you told him without hesitation, “then fuck me Steven.”

He deferred, musing as he descended to your cunt, “We do have to consummate our marriage after all.”

Your clever response was eclipsed by a whimper when Steven began to eat you out. Still sensitive from your lovemaking with Marc from earlier, each lick and swirl of Steven’s tongue had you feeling like a live wire. His mouth had you just on the other side of too much, your husband working his signature magic on your twitching cunt while you leant back on your hands.

“You taste so good,” Steven panted as he briefly pulled away for air. “Could eat this pussy forever Mrs. Grant.”

“Please do,” you exhaled, only half-joking.

He chuckled lowly, returning to your core, his tongue dancing on your clit and pushing into your hole. His nose was pressed perfectly into clit while he tongue-fucked you, so perfectly that you found your orgasm blindsiding you, suddenly snapping in your groin and flooding you with bliss.

When your eyelids at last fluttered open, your climax subsided, Steven gazed at you with adoration. “You’re so bloody gorgeous.”

There was nowhere to hide your blush given that you were stark naked sitting on the poolside tile. “You’re so bloody good at that. Let me take care of you, I bet that big dick is just aching for me, isn’t it?”

Steven agreed by pulling you back in the water, hooking his elbows into the bends of your knees and pressing your back into the wall of the pool. You took a hold of his erection, velvet-covered steel in your hand, and guided your husband inside of you below the water’s surface. Steven groaned when he entered you, and scooted you up the length of the wall so your back arched against the side of the pool. Your head rested on the towel, the position exposing your breasts to the warm air, allowing Steven to tongue your nipples as he pushed inside of you.

The way Steven made love to you couldn’t be more different than how Marc had. Steven was slow, languid, and worshipful feeding his member into your cunt. Even though he was splitting you apart on his fat cock and filled his mouth with your tits, it didn’t feel like you could get close enough. You dug your fingertips, still sporting your wedding manicure, into the tile on either side of your bodies in an attempt to anchor yourself. The universe shrank to just you and your husband, the feel of him — so hot and hard inside of you — and the small rectangle of water you were fucking in.

Steven angled his hips so the head of cock could brush against your g-spot and rub his pelvis against your clit. The combination was devastating but he entreated you, “Go on, love, can you give me one more? Know you can do it….wanna see your pretty face while you come.”

You’d had three orgasms in the last twenty-four hours, but Steven was ruthless in the most tender way possible, cooing into your ear and coaxing yet another release from your quaking, over-stimulated body. The spasming of your pussy around him resulted in his hips picking up pace and frantically suckling on a nipple while his climax crashed over him.

“Wow,” he marveled after you separated.

“That about sums it up,” you giggled, dunking under the water to re-wet your hair, “and to think we have ten days just for us.”

***

The pair of you eventually did unpack and leave your room. You’d never had so much space in your suitcase before, since the majority of what you’d brought were swimsuits, skimpy lingerie and a few sundresses for meals and sightseeing.

You put what you packed to use the next evening when you and your husband went to dinner in town. The night began in a breezy, white satin slip dress. Jake held your hand as you two strolled back to the resort, both of you giddy, inebriated from the wine at dinner and each other’s presence.

Jake began humming some Spanish song you didn’t recognize, twirling you and pulling you under his arm as you navigated the uneven but mostly empty streets of the neighborhood. Marc and Steven were shy about it, but they had a great voice, and you soaked up every moment Jake would sing with unfettered delight.

He ducked down to kiss you, whispering “Eres mi reina” when you broke apart.

“Te amo,” you sighed back.

Jake re-captured your lips, and next thing you knew, your back was against the side of a building as he attacked your mouth. It took a Herculean amount of self-control to withdraw your lips from his, but you had to or else you’d start fucking in the middle of the street. While you two shared a fondness for a bit of exhibitionism, that wasn’t exactly the vibe you were trying to achieve on your honeymoon. “Papi, let’s go inside.”

Your husband ignored you, his hands creeping down to your ass and kissing below your ear.

“I’ll make it worth your while…”

That got his attention. Dark eyes glittered in the street lamplight as they searched yours. “How?”

“Guess you’ll just have to see,” you teased.

From there on, Jake followed you back to your suite like a puppy. Once you’d returned to the privacy of your room, you pushed Jake back on the bed and ordered him to wait, then disappeared into the bathroom to change out of the dress and into a white bustier and panty set that managed to be lacy, sheer, strappy and somewhat tasteful all at once.

You remerged and Jake instantly muttered a “Joder” at the sight of you.

You did a little spin for him to get the full view. “Te gusta? Piensas que yo miro linda?”

“No, eres linda, pero ahora ves tan sexy,” he corrected you in a growl. “Ven aquí.”

“Come get me,” you challenged him.

Jake leapt to his feet and chased you around the suite. You evaded him in a fit of giggles, but you were no match for your ex-military, ex-superhero husband. He circled his arms around your waist, lifted you from the ground, and tossed you onto the bed in one swift move.

“Naughty,” he rumbled, caging you between his meaty thighs and while he rid himself of his shirt, then moved to unbutton and unzip his linen trousers to free his raging erection. Once he’d taken them off, plus palmed himself to take some of the edge off, he began exploring your body with his hands.

“This is too pretty to rip off of you,” he mused, tracing the waistband of your tiny thong. But Marc’s voice had said it.

“Oh, hi babe,” you greeted him, a little startled.

He kissed you hello, grinding against your cloth-covered core, “Hi baby.”

As much as you enjoyed the feel of his length against your soaked panties, you had to ask, “Everything ok with Jake?”

“Yeah, we just thought we’d maybe try being co-conscious tonight, if that’s ok? Be a little more fast and loose with the switches?”

Now there was an idea. In the past, one of the boys may have fronted momentarily while you were intimate with another, you’d never had sex with them fully co-conscious, to your knowledge at least.

“Okay,” you consented. “Just don’t get cross with me if I accidentally call someone by the wrong name.”

Marc fixed you with a warm, lopsided smile, “We’ll take it easy on you…to start.”

“Good,” you pulled him into another kiss. When you two broke apart, Steven was grinning down at you.

“Now this is just darling,” he mused, tugging the cups of your bustier down to free your breasts. He wasted no time attaching his skilled mouth to your left nipple to lavish his attention on your sensitive peak.

You mewled, eyes screwed shut, and your hand shot down to Steven’s boxer-briefs to grope him through the fabric.

Steven switched nipples with a rumble in his chest and once you were face to face again, Jake asked you “Will you suck Papi’s cock in your pretty outfit?”

“Por supuesto Papi.”

You flipped over, reorienting yourselves so Jake was on his back and you were straddling his legs. You discarded his boxers and did your best to make a show of lapping at his tip, mouthing at the head and using your tongue to play with it.

“Joder si, nena,” Jake heaved, trying to keep from bucking into your mouth without warning. “Just like that.”

You worked your mouth down on his length, and you spotted who you thought was Steven craning his neck to watch you swallow his dick down your throat with your tits still out. “Bloody hell.”

You chuckled around his erection, the vibrations sending a shiver through Steven’s spine. Or wait, was that a Marc sound?

“Don’t stop,” Jake urged you. You obeyed happily, licking the circumference of his cock to wet it, then wrapping your palm around the appendage to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth while you went to town on him.

You could tell your boys were close by the way their right leg twitched, but before could take them into the home stretch, a hand pulled you off their cock by your hair.

“Jake doesn’t get to come just like that,” Marc growled, wrapping his own hand around the base of his manhood to stave off his orgasm.

“Fuck you,” Jake vollied quickly before Marc reclaimed the body and eased with you a kiss. “Hands and knees, baby.”

You obeyed, wiggling your ass a bit for effect, and whimpered when you felt a palm slap across your right cheek. That was Jake for sure. The drenched crotch of your thong was pushed to the side, then you felt the head of your husband’s cock circle your soaking entrance a few times before it began to breach you, which was a Steven move.

Your husband set a steady pace and confirmed your guess as to who was fronting when Steven raved, “Oh, I see why they like this position…such a lovely view.”

“It’s good isn’t it?” Marc chimed in, increasing the pace of his thrusts some. “First time I fucked you we did it like this, remember baby?”

“Ye-uh…uh-huh,” you could barely formulate words at this point. The idea of your husbands teaming up to fuck you in a slutty little matching lingerie set was melting your brain.

“She takes it so well,” Jake added. His hand pressed in between your shoulder blades and you yielded so that your face and chest were resting on the bed, ass higher in the air.

“Ugh that’s it,” Marc groaned, landing another slap across your rear.

“Doing so well for us, love,” he praised. It was Steven obviously. “You alright?”

You stuttered out a “yes” and began pushing your hips back against his groin as much as you could to drive your point home.

When Jake said “Hmmm, si nena, let us feel that little cunt clench around our cock,” you couldn’t resist anymore, you had to touch yourself.

Jake spotted it right away and spanked you again, “Did I say you could play yourself?”

“Por favor Papi,” you begged. You were beyond dignity at this point, all you could think about was coming. “I need it.”

“Let her Jake,” Steven argued, rubbing the imprint his alter’s hand left to soothe your skin, “she got all dressed up for us.”

“Plus it’s hot as fuck to watch her work her little bud,” Marc pointed out.

“Bien, bien,” Jake let it go.

“Who do you want to make you come?” Steven asked, his hips never faltering as he continued to impale you with the fat member you craved.

“I…um…uh…”

“Aw look Steven, we made her all cockdumb,” Marc cooed at you.

Your current position prevented you from sending a dirty look at your husband. He wasn’t exactly wrong though.

“I got her,” Jake volunteered. A moment later, a wet thumb circled your asshole and edged ever so slightly in. The extra stimulation, combined with your fingers frantically rubbing your clit, caused you to come with a high whine. You bore down on your husband’s big dick as the pleasure wracked you, so profound it was almost painful.

Your husband held your hips steady as you drifted down from your orgasm and he sought his own release. You reflexively tightened around his spent cock when you felt the ribbons of his seed empty inside of you.

You rolled over, lying on the bed sideways to look at them. Marc gazed back at you, examining your face with concern to make sure they hadn’t gone too hard on you, you presumed. Speech hadn’t returned to you just yet, so you sent him a toothy, satisfied smile instead.

“You okay baby?” He asked. You nodded, allowing him to slide off your panties.

Steven cut in quickly to follow up, “You need anything for your bum?”

“I think I’m okay, hun, but thank you,” you assured him. He turned you around to take off your bustier for you as well.

“‘Course,” he replied instantly, slowly standing to walk bow-legged to the bathroom and wipe his cum off of you. “They got a little carried away at the end there.”

“Did not” you heard Jake snipe back.

They reappeared with Marc’s stern expression on their features. “You sure you’re okay? Obviously we loved it, but….“

Jake butted in to finish his question, “Did you like it, nena?”

“Yes,” your tone didn’t leave any room for doubt. Now a little more recovered from your orgasm, you could string together a sentence. “I loved it, it was just intense, and it was our first time being intimate like that.”

“We’re a bit full on, aren’t we?” Steven asked with wry self-deprecation, tossing the used flannel off to the side of the room and getting under the covers.

“I love it,” you said once again, settling into his arms, “I married you after all.”

“Good,” Steven murmured. “You didn’t happen to bring more lingerie like that, did you?”

***

Though the benefits to having a private pool were many…mainly that you and your husband could have pool sex whenever the mood struck, you did make it to the beach. It’d be a sin not to, and the image of Marc emerging form the ocean was one you’d lock in your mind until you died.

He was dripping wet head to toe, dark hair slicked back with water, his trunks clinging to those muscular thighs that drove you wild, and his golden skin had darkened a shade from the sun. Though you knew your husband had once been entangled with an Egyptian deity, you couldn’t help but think that Marc would be quite at home in the Greek pantheon too, with a body and face like that.

“Hey! You gotta get in,” he ran a hand through his hair, “It’s like bathwater.”

“I think you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” you blurted out.

Marc shot you a wide, unguarded grin. “I already married you, you don’t need to keep flattering me anymore.”

“Shut up,” you tossed at him fondly.

Marc lowered his still dripping body on top of you. You tried to wiggle away from him but Marc locked you in his grasp and attacked you with kisses all over your face, “I think that I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman with a more generous heart. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Marc,” your voice was thick with tears. It was one thing for Marc to be so playful with you, then add in such loving sentiments expressed to you so openly? You couldn’t help but get verklempt. Your husband had come such a long way - partly thanks to the work he did on his own, with his therapist, and of course you two refusing to give up on each other.

“Baby, don’t cry!” He cajoled.

“I’m not, I’m sweaty,” you joked.

“Okay, then I was sweating at the temple,” Marc bantered back, referring to your wedding ceremony. “Will you please come swim with me? The most handsome man you’ve ever seen?”

You shoved playfully Marc and got up to head to the water, “I give you one compliment…”

***

Kate, one of your friends from work, had gifted you a couples massage at the resort for your wedding present. You weren’t sure how the boys decided which one would front for it, but when it was time to leave for the appointment, Jake was the one accompanying you.

It was heavenly to have all of the wedding and travel stress massaged from your muscles, and no one was more deserving of rest & relaxation than your husband. Their body worked three jobs, plus there had been much strategizing and occasional hair-pulling for Marc and Jake about leaving things with their respective jobs in a place so that they wouldn’t come back from Greece to dumpster fires. Steven was mercifully on summer holiday, so his job was slow anyway.

The pair of you left your joint session as pliable noodle-people. Jake took your hand as you ambled back to your suite.

“I’m going to give Kate the biggest thank you,” you vowed.

He seconded you with a content hum and opened the door to your room.

“I’m going to take a shower, get all of this oil off of me,” you announced, padding into the bathroom, “honey, what did you do with my shampoo?”

You routed around in his toiletries bag, thinking you’d found it, but what you produced was definitely not your stolen shampoo.

Jake had followed you in and when he saw that you were holding the bottle of lube he brought, it was one of the very few times you’d ever seen him blush. You had no trouble getting wet, and you hadn’t brought any toys on vacation either, so what had he brought lube for…oh.

All he’d wanted for the past few “special occasions” you two had shared (Hannukah, your anniversary, Daylights Savings Time) was anal sex. You weren’t opposed to the idea, but had required a gradual approach to it. To his credit, Jake had been wonderfully patient, and you’d become comfortable with a few of his thick fingers in your ass.

Jake immediately began to backtrack, “I only brought it in case you wanted to—“

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I mean I’m open to it, when in Greece on your honeymoon, right?

Jake looked at you with barely contained eagerness. “Bueno, cuando quieres hacerlo?”

He knew that if he wanted a piece of your ass, he had to ask in advance. You were a lady and you had a certain mystique you had to maintain, not to mention preparation you needed to undergo. But, given that you were already pretty relaxed and going to shower anyway, now seemed as good a time as any.

“No time like the present,” you suggested.

“Wait, really?!” Jake reacted similarly to a little boy who’d been given his first bike.

You couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at his response. “Yeah, I’m all loosened up after the massage and I’ll make this shower a thorough one. So while I do, vamos and make things extra romantic in the bedroom.”

“Si Señora Lockley,” he basically road-runnered out of the bathroom.

Jake took your task to heart – when you entered the bedroom, hair damp, lube in hand, towel wrapped around you — candles had been lit, music was playing softly, and he had even managed to get a bottle of champagne up to the room while you’d washed up.

“Not bad Lockley,” you said after surveying the room. You tossed him the lube. “Not bad at all.”

He shot you a grin that was akin to a wolf who just caught sight of a rabbit. Jake gestured to the champagne, “Shall we? Loosen you up un poquito mas?”

“Por favor,” you assented. You weren’t sure exactly what made the popping of a champagne bottle so sexual, but a little thrill zinged through you when your husband ejected the cork from its glass neck.

“Cheers,” you thanked him when he handed you a flute, raising it to toast, “To…new beginnings.”

Jake mimicked your movement, “A tí, mi amor.”

Your glasses clinked and the fizzy alcohol rushed down your throat. Jake's eyes never left your face. He watched you closely, anticipating the moment when he could finally touch you.

You decided sooner was likely better than later, best get the show on the road before you could psych yourself out. Placing your flute down, you crossed to him, “Come here Papi.”

Jake flashed you another predatory grin and followed suit at once. “We don’t need this anymore.” His fingers tucked between the towel covering your skin and pulled it loose so the cloth fell around your feet.

Jake was more intoxicated by the sight of your naked body than any amount of champagne in his system. He wrapped you into a kiss, plundering your mouth, his lips seeking to consume you. His hands, meanwhile, immediately dropped to your rear.

Hoisting you up with a squeeze, he carried you over to the bed, depositing you on the mattress much more gently than a few nights ago. His mouth never left yours while he worked you to an orgasm on his fingers.

Then, and only then, did Jake request you turn over, wedge a pillow under your hips, and leave a line of kisses down the length of your spine.

You couldn’t help but squirm a little when he pulled your cheeks apart. You’d never felt more exposed in your life, but your husband was quick to quell any of your concerns when he asked in an awed whisper, “Nena, can I kiss you here?”

“Mmm…oh-okay,” you consented and jerked again when you felt his hot breath on your most vulnerable spot, followed by a brush of his lips.

Next came the snick of the cap of the bottle being opened, and moments later, Jake massaged lube around your wrinkled skin to coat it thoroughly. He may have been excited, but your husband knew he had to be gentle with you.

Though Jake had gotten you accustomed to much more, you could never stifle the little “ah” you made when the pad of his finger breached your rim. He coaxed more of his digit inside of you, taking ample time to allow you to adjust.

Jake checked in with you. “How does that feel?”

“It’s okay,” you told him, “you can move.”

He proceeded like that, constantly touching base with you as he fed two more fingers into your tight pucker. Your husband’s preparation was a steady stream of “are you okay nena?”, “you feel good? Papi wants you to feel good,” and other praise.

So thorough was Jake in opening you up that he’d lost his erection by the time you’d given him the go-ahead to enter you. He wasn’t exactly miffed by this development, because he knew precisely how he wanted to get it back.

Even more lube was drizzled onto your bum, then Jake slicked up his cock to wedge it between your plush cheeks and began to grind himself between them. There was no way to muffle the rumble in his chest at the feel of your ass smothering his cock, the lube providing the necessary slip, and he was damn near entranced by his cockhead reappearing each time from the cleft of your ass.

You helped him, working your hips back to meet his while he humped you. It felt amazing, and your asshole clenched at the thought that he’d be inside you soon. Fucking your ass cheeks got Jake back to full mast in no time. You were beginning to lose yourself in the rhythmic sliding of your bodies when you husband draped himself over your back to ask in a murmur, “Can I put it in, nena?”

“Uh huh,” you confirmed, “just go slow please.”

“Claro que si,” Jake assured you, placing a kiss behind your ear before he straightened up.

He applied even more lube to your now winking asshole and his dick before he notched the tip at your entrance. “Estas lista?”

“Yes honey, please,” his cockhead at your pucker felt like a promise you were now desperate for him to make good on.

Jake’s tip popped past the ring of muscle and you nearly bit down on the linens below you. It was intense, though not altogether painful like you’d feared. You focused on keeping your breathing even as your husband continued to sink inside of you, becoming lightheaded from the overwhelming feeling of fullness in your ass and the deep pulls of oxygen you were pumping into your lungs.

“Bien?” Jake asked. The strain in his voice was evident.

“Yeah,” was the most you could manage.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I want more,” you told him truthfully. The feeling of having your husband’s dick up your bum was dizzying, deliciously too much, like a scab you weirdly enjoyed picking.

You experimentally fluttered your muscles around his length and even though Jake was a loving, patient man, even he could not resist the thrust and groan that the move prompted. “Feel good, Papi? Like everything you’ve wanted?”

Jake began moving his hips slowly, “And more.”

While the view of the sea outside of your window was stunning, Jake didn’t think he’d ever seen a sight he’d enjoy more than his throbbing cock splitting your ass in half over and over again.

“You…you feel so big like this,” you gasped. “So huge inside me.”

“Joder, mami, you can’t just say things like that,” he cautioned you as he continued to plow you.

“Buh-but I can’t help it,” you confessed, and your mind quickly supplied what to say next to drive him absolutely wild. “Fucking me so deep, Papi.”

“Nnnngnnn,” came Jake’s scintillating reply. By now, most of the burn had faded from your channel and you could focus on the delicious stretch in your rear from his cock.

You honestly couldn’t believe how good it felt. Fingers and fantasies were one thing, plus you were fully prepared to take one for the team, to be a good wife and try it even if you weren't keen on the idea. But now you were the slightest bit ashamed to admit that you kind of loved having a cock in your ass. Or maybe it was the fact it was your husband’s thick erection filling you.

Jake’s brain did nearly explode when you began meeting his thrusts, rocking back on your knees so he could penetrate you deeper. Your ass was absolutely suffocating his cock with its heat and clench around him, he truly believed he could live inside of you forever if you’d let him.

The two of you communicated exclusively in gasps in grunts, the slap of skin on skin reverberating throughout the suite while you drowned each other in pleasure. You knew when Jake picked up the rate of his thrusts and began growling that he was close and oh, it was different to have your ass filled with cum rather than your pussy.

You’d barely recovered from Jake easing his cock out of you when you were flipped onto your back and your husband buried his face between your legs. A high-pitched moan tore out from you when his tongue probed your now slightly gaping asshole to collect his cum.

Jake didn’t stop there, licking around your cleft and spearing his tongue to circle its tip around your sensitive rim. He only relented when you gently pushed his face away from overstimulation. Between your earlier orgasm and the passion of what you had just shared with Jake, you needed to rest.

He rose back to be level with your face, whispering “thank you” non-stop as he collected you in his arms. “I guess I have to be extra good from now on.”

“Mmmm?” you sought clarification with a sleepy hum.

“We need to do that again so I can’t piss you off anymore,” he explained.

You chuckled. “Exactly right, esposo.”

He inhaled deeply, taking a deep whiff of your hair to smell the faint citrusy scent of your shampoo before he left the bed. To his credit, Jake was excellent with the post-anal aftercare. He drew you a bath, ordered everything you wanted from (the heinously expensive in his opinion) room service, rubbed some petroleum jelly on your pucker to soothe it. He cuddled you in bed, long after the sun sank beyond the horizon, until you drifted off later that evening.

***

“Good morning!” the concierge Helena greeted you as you approached her desk.

“Hi there,” you chirped back. The boys slept in this morning, which gave you the opportunity to sneak down to the lobby and square away the details for today’s day trip that you and Steven planned on taking. “Could I please have a copy of the ferry schedule?”

“Of course, Mrs. Spector,” one week in and you still got a little flutter every time someone called you that, “where are you headed?”

“Delos,” you told her.

“A must when visiting Mykonos. We’d be happy to arrange a private tour of the island for you and your husband,” Helena offered, “We have relationships with a few exceptional guides on Delos and–”

“Oh that won’t be necessary,” you tried to turn her down gently. “But thanks for the offer.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “There’s so much history there.”

“My husband’s a professor of ancient civilizations,” you explained as she passed you the little flyer with the ferry timetable, “he’s been researching Delos since we booked this trip months ago.”

“Huh, I thought he said he was a consultant,” Helena’s colleague, a male concierge who’d welcomed you, chimed in.

“He is,” you covered, thinking fast, “He teaches and consults with archaeologists on digs.”

“You’ll be well set then” Helena concluded with a smile.

“Yes,” you agreed, “I won’t be surprised if by the end of the day, I’ll be able to lead a tour of the island.”

Your prediction was more or less correct. Steven’s eyes lit up as Delos came into view from the ferry’s bow. He’d already briefed you on the early history and beginnings of the island on the ride over. Anyone else, it would be pedantic and infuriating, but Steven was so genuinely invested that his urge to share about the island was endearing, his enthusiasm about its lore contagious.

You two meandered through the breathtaking ruins hand-in-hand. Steven’s unofficial tour of the island was so engaging that you clocked a few American tourists loitering near you, eavesdropping to hear all of your husband’s in-depth knowledge of the different statues and remains of the site.

Your husband remained blissfully oblivious, and you didn’t mind the audience. You’d gotten your picture at the Terrace of the Lions, and besides, Steven was at his best like this. You thought back to when you first met and started dating him: his hunched posture, general jumpiness, the way he’d hedge and second-guess himself. Those facets of him had already melted away to an extent now that all four of you had settled into a groove that worked for everyone, but when Steven had a chance to talk about the subjects he was passionate about, he was calm, confident, and charismatic. He shone brighter than the blazing Greek sun and it warmed your heart more than words could ever describe to see your darling husband so effortlessly in his element.

So taken were you by his swagger that you interrupted his latest lecture about Cleopatra or something as you strolled to the Temple of The Delians, walking him back into one of the tall, ancient pillars to kiss him senseless.

“Blimey,” he sighed when you broke apart, “what was that for?”

You cocked your head playfully, “Do I need a reason to kiss my smart, sexy husband?”

“No,” he conceded with a sheepish smile playing across his lips.

You crowded closer to his body, his spine now pressed against the millennia-old, unyielding marble.

“These broad shoulders, all this golden skin…you look like a Greek god, you know,” you informed him while your hands traveled the cotton-covered expanse of his body. You pressed yourself impossibly closer to his body.

“Careful,” he warned you,“because soon this column won’t be the only thing as hard as stone.”

“Oh yeah?” Your tone was a playful challenge as you palmed his hardness through his shorts.

He groaned, “Babe…”

You withdrew your hand from his crotch. “Wanna feel what you do to me? So we’re even?”

He nodded feverishly to accept your offer and slipped his hand under the skirt of your sundress to dip his fingers inside of your lacy panties and feel you.

“So wet,” he observed reverently, playing with your folds and bud, “All this for me?”

“It’s certainly not for the ruins,” you quipped.

He slipped a finger inside you for your cheekiness, and you instantly tightened around him with a little whimper.

“Only you could make me want to cut a trip to Delos short,” he mused, slowly withdrawing his finger from your cunt, wiping your wetness on your panties, so as not to draw any attention.

“I’ll behave myself,” you promised, smoothing down your skirt. “Delos was your only honeymoon request.”

Steven’s hand took yours once again. “This and more lingerie fashion shows.”

You squeezed his hand, “Play your cards right and I'll give you a good one later.”

***

You’d put on quite the naughty fashion show for Steven when you returned to the suite and between the vigorous fucking your little act had resulted in and a day of sightseeing in the sun, you two passed out cold post-coitus.

Marc had woken up with you just as the sun disappeared below the horizon and suggested a dip to cool and rinse you off after your earlier lovemaking. You knew what “a dip in the pool” meant when your husband suggested it, but what you hadn’t expected was to be bent over your balcony in the Grecian twilight in the nude while your husband railed you from behind.

“Now this is a beautiful view,” he remarked as he pounded you. “I have the ocean and your ass jiggling without having to turn my head.”

Words escaped you at the moment. You were bowed over the rail, indescribably full in this position, equal parts thrilled and terrified that people could see your husband using your pussy in the dwindling sun.

Marc pulled your ass cheeks apart to get a better look at his cock as it was sucked in by your cunt. He kept a hand holding you open while the other massaged the wrinkled skin of your pucker, causing you to convulse at the unexpected touch.

“I get your ass next,” he declared, “It was so hot watching Jake take it…fuck, like a porno just for me and Steven. You were so beautiful.”

You mewled. As dirty as Marc liked to be, he could never abandon his adoration of you. You belonged to one another, each of you placing your trust, respect, vulnerability in the other’s hands to have absolutely shameless sex like this.

“Duh-duh-do…do you think anyone can see?” You wondered out loud.

“Dunno,” Marc replied, still thumbing your asshole. “Probably not but I don’t care if they do, because you’re mine. Right, baby?”

“Yeah,” you instantly concurred . “All yours daddy.”

The use of the pet name spurred Marc to spin you around so that your back was up against the crossbeam that made up the railing. He hitched your leg around his thick hips and plunged back into your needy core swiftly.

“So beautiful,” he repeated again now that you were facing each other. “So goddamn gorgeous.”

“Such a slut for you Marc,” you rambled, your breath hitching when his hand dropped between you once more, this time to strum at your clit.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunted. “My wife is a slut for me and only me, you’ve got everyone else fooled.”

“It’s ‘cause you fuck me like this,” you provided, “‘s why I married you, no one else can make me come so hard.”

Marc redoubled his efforts on your little nub, now fully peeking out from its hood. “That’s right, come for me baby.”

Who were you to disobey? You had to bite your lip to muffle your mind as the fire of your orgasm licked through every corner of your body. Your hands gripped the wooden railing for dear life as it spread throughout your limbs.

Marc followed shortly after you, burying his face into your shoulder as he released deep into your heat with a satisfied groan. He brought your lips together once he finished, capturing you in tender liplock, allowing his cock to soften inside you before extracting it.

“Let’s never go back to London,” you proposed.

You could feel Marc’s amused smile against your skin. “Deal.”

Of course you had to, but it was nice to pretend as if you all didn’t have lives to go back to in two and a half days, even if only for a moment.

***

The next morning, your last full day in Greece, you didn’t want to get out of bed. Your airtight, logical reasoning was if you didn’t wake up the day couldn’t start and pass you by. Plus, you were too comfortable to move. Your back and neck were supported by fluffy pillows, your legs were splayed open and damn, there was the most delightful sensation between them.

It took embarrassingly long for your sleep and pleasure-addled brain to realize that your husband was feasting at you. You eyes blinked open to find the covers pushed back and his inky curls at the apex of your thighs. You moaned, and when he flicked his tongue in quick succession over your clit, you knew it was Steven.

“Honey.”

“Oh you’re awake,” he grinned, his chin wet from your slick when he briefly separated himself from your cunt to greet you. “Brilliant.”

…And he went right back to eating you out like a starving man. You gasped, your fingers curled into his locks, and you jolted into a sitting position as Steven continued. Already the steady pulse of pleasure beat through you indicating that your climax was near.

“How long have you been at this, baby?”

“Dunno,” he murmured against your slit, “a while.”

“Yeah?” Your voice was barely more than a rasp. “Woke up hungry for some pussy?”

He moaned and nodded his head with his tongue firmly shoved against your bud and fuck, yep that did it. You came with a keen, your thighs trembling and your fingers clawing at the crisp white sheets.

Steven retreated some while your orgasm wracked your body, then dove right back in. You tried to twist away from him, still so sensitive, but Steven wrapped his muscled arms around your twitching legs to hold you still.

“Baby,” you attempted to protest.

“Need it,” he countered, his voice reedy.

You pet his curls and tried to keep your legs steady as his morning scruff tickled your inner thighs. At least he eased back in to his assault on your cunt, dropping the lightest kisses on the crease where your thighs meet your groin before lapping at you once more.

He was trying to get as much of you wet as he could, it felt like, before he narrowed his target to just licking stripes from your asshole to your clit. Only once he had you dripping to his liking did he return to stick his tongue in your hole, gulping down your taste, moving to your clit shortly thereafter.

By that point it didn’t take much for you to erupt on his tongue, awarding Steven another orgasm that you could feel from the top of your head to the tip of your toes.

You were not proud to admit that you kind of zoned out at that point, Steven’s mouth enshrined you in a haze of pleasure so dense that you just kind of floated atop it. Your husband seemed to be having the time of his life down there, so you were more than content to submit his ministrations.

You couldn’t really remember your name anymore but did it matter? Did you actually need to know your name to receive all of this ecstasy?

He pulled one - wait maybe it was two? - orgasms out of you - solely with his mouth before Steven’s fingers joined in. He performed a variation of your favorite move, sucking on your clit and instead of finger-fucking you, his digits pressed deep inside of your pussy. He stroked your walls, fingertips searching for that special spot. He found it, then your sweet Steven proceeded to abuse the ever-loving fuck out of it.

You could feel the magnitude of the orgasm building rapidly, more rapidly than you were used to, yet nevertheless you canted your hips against Steven’s mouth and fingers as you hurdled toward your peak. Your release arrived with a distinct feeling of letting go, an uncontrollable sensation, but Steven wouldn’t stop worshiping your pussy, which wrenched a pitiful, strained wail from your mouth as you peaked.

It was as if you couldn’t stop coming. You'd never experienced anything like this before, and although it felt magnificent, it scared you some too.

Steven’s voice brought you back. “Fuck, that was hot.”

Your vision returned and you peered down at him to ask, “Did I just squirt?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his face a portrait of sheer wonder. “It was bloody amazing.”

“Ohmygod” you reeled, words coming out on a rush. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

A flash of movement caught your eye. Steven gripped his cock which looked painfully hard, the top purpled and leaking.

“C’mere baby,” you cooed, motioning toward you. “Use my mouth.” You couldn’t do much currently, but you could do this.

Steven didn’t need to be told twice, awkwardly walking on his knees so he was straddling your chest. You gave his erection a few swipes of your tongue before you looked up at your husband, your eyes beckoning him to fuck your mouth like he needed to after denying himself pleasure for so long. You gripped onto his muscled, pillowy ass cheeks while he feverishly pistoned his dick into the warm suction of your mouth, the loveliest little sounds and cries escaping him.

Given the events of this morning, it wasn’t long before you were swallowing down Steven’s cum. The size of his load indicated how pent up he’d been, and you struggled to swallow all of his hot seed down in one gulp. Your husband swung his leg over your body and collapsed next to you, the two of you rendered silent after the intense lovemaking you’d just shared.

“Blimey,” Steven remarked. “You alright, babe? Need anything?”

You nuzzled into his chest. “I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, we both worked up quite the appetite, didn’t we?” he chuckled.

You joined in, amused. “If only we could subsist off each other’s bodily fluids.”

“We definitely wouldn’t have left the room this week if that had been the case,” he pointed out. “I think the restaurant’s still serving breakfast if we hurry.”

“Can’t we get room service? I can’t move.” You pulled the covers over your head in protest.

“But it’s so bloody expensive,” he bemoaned.

You revealed your face to fire back, “Well, you should’ve thought of that before you made me squirt because you’ve rendered my legs useless.”

Steven’s expression became tinged with concern. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yes,” you assuaged him once again, “but four orgasms tends to take it out of you. Plus, baby, it’s our last day here, we should treat ourselves.”

Your husband relented, reaching for the in-room phone, “Want the bowl you had last time?”

You nodded, just absolutely beaming now that you’d gotten your way, and planted a wet kiss on Steven’s cheek as he placed your breakfast order.

He pulled you close to him once more after he hung up, and you pondered as he held you, “I can’t believe I’ll be back at work in forty-eight hours. I’ll be meant to be catching up on emails and all I’ll be able to think about is how well you three fucked me.”

Steven hummed in a mix of agreement and satisfaction. “We certainly made the most of it, didn’t we? It’ll be tough to go back to our usual routine and not shag at least two times a day.”

“How did we even do it?” you giggled.

“No idea,” he played along, then tilted your chin up to kiss you gingerly, sincerely. “I think it’s safe to say our marriage has gotten off to a cracking start however.”

You reconnected your lips, kissing him deeper. “Couldn’t agree more, my love.”

A/N: hopefully this was worth the wait!! thank you again dawnsutopia for requesting and more fills to come soon!

Taglist: @twwcs, @rmoonstoner, @hot-mess-express1, @murdickdocked, @toracainz, @saahmi, @unspokenmoon, @winterbiipp, @avatarofseshat @ilikeoldermenhelp, @losers-club6, @harrys-tittie, @ninebluehearts��, @lucianadraven32, @dawnsutopia, @strawberry1042 @nikitawolfxo

Translations:

Joder - Fuck

Te gusta? Piensas que yo miro linda? - You like? Do you think I look cute?

No, eres linda, pero ahora ves tan sexy - No, you’re cute but now you look so sexy

Ven aquí - come here

Por supuesto Papi - of course daddy

Joder si, nena - fuck yeah babe

Bien, bien - okay, okay

Bueno, cuando quieres hacerlo? - good, when do you want to do it?

Vamos - let’s go

Por favor - please

Señora - Mrs.

un poquito mas - a little more

A tí, mi amor - to you, my love

Claro que si - of course

Estas lista - are you ready?

esposo - husband

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yanderestevenuniverse · 2 years

Note

How would a yandere peral react to her darling (btw they arent a thing yet and she didnt make a move yet ) going to university and telling the gems and Steven that she will move to California in the next few days after she told them that she got accepted

nope not happening

lets say you call her at night but she dosnt pick up you leave her a message telling her how your going to california and attending a fantastic university. you send the recording to her and go to bed but when you wake up you not in your room anymore you see pearl in the corner. she dosnt know that your awake yet you can hear her mumbling to herself in the corner

yourdoingterightthingyourdoingtherightthingyourdoingtherightthing

just as your about to raise your voice she spins around hoping onto the bed slaming her hand over your mouth and begins to scream

HOWCOULDYOUDOTHISTOMEIGAVEYOUEVERYTHINGANDYOU

JUSTLEAVEJUSTLKEROSEDONTYOULOVEME

after she finally stops screaming she takes her han off of your mouth you dont have anything to say anything even if you did your to scared to talk beside from the whimpers that leave your mouth... she dosnt say anything for a while... you could swear that you could see a tear leveing her eys for a second...

y/n i cant forgive you right now but dont worry

your going to make up for it

#su #steven universe #yandere su #yandere #yandere asks #asks #yandere steven universe #imagine #steven universe future #ask #yandere pearl #su pearl #pearl x reader #yandere pearl x reader

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tendousthoughts · 3 years

Note

Hewo! I saw that your requests are open and I really love your “hq boys calling their s/o clingy” series and I was wondering if you could do one with Akaashi, Tendou and Kenma? You don’t have to if you don’t want to! Bye and I hope you have a great day!

HQ Boys Calling Their S/O Clingy Pt. 4

Character(s) Included: Akaashi, Tendō, & Kenma

Warning(s): Foul Language (Cursing), Tendō grabbed your wrist hard.

A/N: Okay, so here goes pt 4! I’m sorry it took so long! I have a bunch of projects to do this week so I’m trying to finish them. To the author of this request, I’m so glad you enjoyed my series! Also, don’t worry about it, I’m glad to do it! Reblogs, follows, and likes are greatly appreciated! If you wanna rp please contact me! This might be the last part but the next series will be out soon! [hq boys thinking you left them after an argument!] If you have any requests please read my rules first! For my final notes, please if you just wanna chat and stuff my anon is on, character anons would be fun just to talk to, or emoji anons so you can stay hidden but I know that it is the same person lmao!

Song of the day: We Are The Crystal Gems - Steven Universe [btw I cried twice this week and both times this song made me stop soo perfect song to listen to!]

Where to find all the parts

Where to find all my content

Credit: @/teesumu

Akaashi

He was doing his work when you came up to him. He was tired and you could tell so you tried your best not to annoy him, but you saw him less and less so you felt lonely. Needing comfort you went to him.

“Baby.. are you almost rea-” he cuts you off before you can finish.

“Y/n not right now please..” He mumbled typing.

“Sorry I just wanted to know when we will be heading out for the date..?” You mumble.

“Can’t do today sorry,” he continued to type away.

“But you bailed for the last two week.. and you promised,” you whine softly.

“Stop acting like a child, please I need to finish my work. I can’t do today and I couldn’t do the last two weeks, get over it.” He hummed as he pressed enter crossing something off of this list of things.

“Can we cuddle for a bit then..?” You whispers

“Y/n are you just trying to be the most fucking clingy person in the world?” He finally looks up. “I don’t need you to go all childish with me right now, okay?” He started to raise his voice. “Your not that fucking important to be honest. You do nothing, you’re always at home whining or clinging or bothering me! I have to make the fucking money because your ‘job’ isn’t paying much.” He turned away.

You walk out closing the door crying softly. You call up Bokuto and his partner wondering if they want to hang out.

When you get to the restaurant they are there and you change how many people sitting down you guys laugh and just hang out in general. You’re extremely happy and they can see it, everyone can. Maybe it is because the relationship your in doesn’t really feel like a relationship..

“Okay well talk to you later..” you smile as you head to your car.

When you got home it was late. You rush in worried you’ll wake him so you head to the spare room. About twenty minutes later.

Knock

“Y..y/n?” He sniffles.

You pretend to be asleep as he walks in tears are flowing downs his cheeks as he takes in a deep breath of relief. He sits on the bed and just holds you for a minute. “Thank god your back... I’m sorry.. I know you’re asleep but I’m sorry.. I fucked up and you are not clingy and I missed you and I shouldn’t have said that. I was annoyed and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.. I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry,” he whispered. He lays down next to you sniffing softly.

“Keiji... it is okay don’t worry,” you mumble softly like you might have just woke up. You wrap your arms around him tightly combing through his hair comforting him. “It will be okay I got you.. you can sleep now I got you..”

“Y..y/n I thought you left for good I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that I am sorry I am sorry...” he continues to whisper clutching onto your clothes, “I yelled at you for no reason and when I went to say sorry you were gone and..”

You kiss his cheek, “relax baby it will be okay..”

Tendō

When you walked in, Tendō was already making jokes about you. You were just there to surprise him but, maybe you were being way too sensitive or maybe he was being oddly mean. Then he said it.. the one fucking thing your extremely insecure about, “ no seriously,” he laughed a bit before continuing, “she never fucking let’s go of me. She is amazingly clingy, like lice when you have them there are only two ways to get them out. Pull them out which takes hours, or just shave your head.” He laughed with his team.

Your eyes filled with tears.. you muttered under your breath, “I’m sorry..” before leaving. He didn’t know you were there and quite frankly you didn’t wanna be there anymore.

When he got home you were already packing. “Hey baby..?” He called out. No response. Walking over he saw tears in your eyes while you packed more of your stuff. “Where are you going, my paradise?”

You laugh to yourself, trying to fill the scar that he left. You were more then just fucking lice you were his fucking partner. “I think..” you mumble not strong enough to say if you get up. “My stuff will be out by tomorrow. I just need to call a few people and pack a few more things before I leave. If you don’t mind.. I’ll stay on the couch you won’t have to worry.” You mumble before getting up.

“Wait what?” He follows you as you go to the next room. “Why are you leaving?” You start to pack more. He grabbed your wrist. Hard. Then freezes when he sees the pure fear in your eyes. “Fuck. I’m sorry” he lets you go, you look away now crying again. “Y/n.. I’m sorry please look at me.”

You look over, “mhm..?” Your voice is shaky, you have your legs and arms closer to you then usual. You seem.. uncomfortable.. scared like you are too worried about something.

“Hey baby..” he slowly looked down at the box. “Can you tell me what you’re doing?” He bit his lip.

“Moving.” You answer before leaving.

The night was cold without you by his side. He tried to think about what he might have done or why you were hurt but every time he tried to think about it.. he felt terrible.

When the morning can you were already packing, he had tears in his eyes as he walked over.. “please don’t leave me.. I’m sorry.. please,” he whispered looking at your back.

You snap.. “your sorry? You don’t even fucking remember yesterday do you! Seriously, how much do you say shit about me, that you can’t remember laughing to your colleagues about how much I cling to you? YOU RELATED ME TO FUCKING LICE! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU NOW COME BACK AND SAY HOW MUCH YOU WANT ME TO STAY.” You took a deep breath wiping your tears.

“What..?” He looked shocked.

“Oh now you want to play dumb?” You wiped your tears, “I’m smarter than you think..”

“I’m so sorry.. please let’s just talk..?” He whispered

“Talk? Talk?! You wanna talk now?” You looked at him, “isn’t that what we are doing? But soon I’m leaving so I guess we got to wrap this up.”

“I was stupid. I am stupid. I am an ass. I wanted to be part of their stupid group, and I thought that would get me in. They were all talking about how annoying their partners and I thought that I could be part of something. But you heard and fucked everything up. I am stupid and dumb and I hurt you and I shouldn’t have. Now I’m the idiot crying for you back when I fucked up. I could’ve just shut up I could of just stay in my own area but I fuck it up. I always fuck it up. You’re not clingy and I feel disgusted that I referred to you as lice, not to mention call you that. It shouldn’t have happened and I’m sorry..” He was crying hard.

“W..we can talk about this I think... just for now let’s lay down..” you held him carrying his to your room. He looked like a mess. You held him tight.

“Y/n... I love you..” he mumbled holding on tight, hopeful that you might say it back.

“I love you too, Tendō..” you whisper, kissing his head.

Kenma

“Hey baby it is getting late be you should get ready for bed..” you smile walking in noticing he is on a livestream.

“Can you stop bugging me?” Kenma mumbled a bit. “FUCK ON MY LEFT! MY LEFT!” He screamed. He hit his head. Turning towards you, annoyed.

“I’m sorry..” you mumble.

“No, no it is always okay when you come into my room when I’m doing something! I mean really it is okay to not listen and fuck up so much,” he said sarcastically.

“I didn’t mean too.. I just thought you should sleep..” he mumbled.

You leave the room crying making your way to the guest bedroom.

An hour or two later he had come out of his gaming room tired and ready to snuggle with you. “Babe..?” He looked around.

You were asleep in the other room so when he came in he was relieved to find you there. He tapped your shoulder softly, “babe..?” He mumbled.

You moved over letting him in. Falling asleep with his arms around you.

In the morning you wake up first to make breakfast for yourself and when he comes out he sees you cleaning clearly you had just finished a meal. “Morning..” he mumbled. No reply.

You walk past him with no reply, and you do that all day. Ignoring him and not responding. Finally he had enough. “Y/n.. please stop ignoring me..”

You ignore him then you hear soft sniffles. Turning around you see him crying. “What? Can we talk later?”

“But I wanna hang out please..” he mumbled.

“Can you do something useful and just stop being stop fucking clingy?” You reply, words hurting like knives.

Finally he realizes, “I’m sorry.. I was playing and my teammate wasn’t doing anything and then you came in, and I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have.” He looked up. “You are the best thing that has happened to me and I shouldn’t treat you like that..” he sniffs.

“Come here..” you open up the blanket him gliding in. You hold him softly rubbing his back. “You can’t do that to me.. I was just trying to help and it isn’t fair to me.. so please don’t, okay..? You weren’t on mute and everyone heard you yelling at me, and that is just embarrassing for me. To be ridiculed in front of everyone. I felt like you didn’t want me, okay? So please don’t do that, and I’m sorry for not checking before coming in. I should’ve not bugged you when you were playing.”

“Okay.. I’m sorry and I won’t ever do that again.. I love you..” he mumbled softly.

“I love you to babe..” you rub his back slowly he stops crying and falls asleep, and you follow after.

Follows and likes are appreciated! Please reblog if you enjoyed it so more people can find my work! Thank you all for your support! Stay safe, and have a good rest of your day!

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sometimes-i-write-4-you · 4 years

Note

Hey! I was wondering if you could do promt #3 for Hyde x reader? (Love your story telling btw)

I (fake) love you - Steven Hyde x reader

a\n: this somehow ended up as a fake dating au but i’m not mad

trigger warnings: cursing, weed mentioning, Hyde and reader are pretending to “do it” as Kelso would say, i’d say it has some angst and fluff but nithing too extreme.

I was always good at reading people. Normally, I could talk to someone for 5 minutes and know everything there is to know about them, for example, the first time I met Michael Kelso, I knew immediately he’s dependable, loyal and likes to be pushed around. Most people thinks it’s his lack of smarts that makes it easy to manipulate him, but the truth is he just seeks attention, he grew up in such a big family, and as just another sandwich kid, he never got that much attention. He’s more than just a good-looking, brainless goofball.

Eric Forman? Smart kid, heart of gold. His father crashed his self esteem and his belief he has no worth sunk so deep into his brain he’s not even trying to prove it wrong. He’s not just a nerdy smart-ass, too bad he’s scared of his potential.

Donna Pinciotti is the girl who will go far. She’ll make history, i can tell you that. She is passionate, and she will not hesitate to fight over what she sees right, yet will admit if she did you wrong. She grew up in a loving family overall, but she doesn't want to end up like her dad: rich, lazy and stuck in a small town. She’s a big city kind of girl.

Fez is sweet, desperate and eats candy to cope with his loneliness. He’s not afraid of his feminine side, and cares about his looks in a different way then Kelso. He might be weird, and have a tendency to say the most inappropriate things, but he never looks to hurt someone or make them uncomfortable, he just wants to feel loved.

Jackie Burkhart was a bit harder to crack, and her first impression on me was semi-wrong. I could tell she’s more than a spoiled brat, I just didn’t know if it’s in a good way - like, she might be smart and kind, with a broken point of view in the world but she’s willing to look at it from a different point of view. On the other hand, she could be a mean, spoiled brat who’s going to succeed big time by manipulating the hell out of everything around her. Turns out it’s a little bit of both - she’s kind, and she learns the world is not all glitter and unicorns, but she manipulates to get things her way. At least she doesn't make a fuss when she doesn't get what she wanted. Well, not as much.

With all that, there was still one mystery in the little group I found myself a part of: Steven Hyde.I could not tell you a thing about him. I knew the basics - his name, the fact his parents are not there, and that he likes weed, beer and Zeppelin. He hid every sign of emotions behind sarcasm, and had walls taller than anyone i’ve ever met.

I started hanging out with them when I moved here. Kelso made a move on me the second he saw me, and he still tries to this day, but it’s obvious our relationship is strictly platonic and it’s not going to change, even though he thinks it’s better. One time I jokingly agreed and he said, and I quote, “ew, no, you’re like a sister to me”, but he keeps on making sexual advances on me for the sake of the joke.

I quickly befriended the rest of the guys (and girls), and even though i learned to love all of them, there was someone i really loved. Not Kelso, he’s practically my brother, it was Hyde i was so into, but i can’t tell you why. Maybe it was his sense of humor, maybe it was his kind heart or maybe it was the challenge.

“Hey, (y\n), penny for your thoughts?” Donna said, breaking the silence. The TV was on, but it was clear my head is somewhere else. “She’s thinking ‘bout Hyde” Kelso was quick to tease. “Shut up” I growled at him, and suddenly everyone’s focus was on me. Hyde wasn’t there, Kelso might have zero tact, but he would never throw me under the bus, cause he knows i will get into the bus and run over him. It was me and him on the couch, and Donna and Eric across from each other on the chairs as a way to avoid them making out instead of hanging out with their friends. “(y\n), do you want to tell us something?” Eric asks. “I- no, it’s stupid. Kelso is stupid, remember the time he ate a blueberry on a field trip and it ended up being the poisneus one we were warned about when we arrived?” i said, hoping it will drive the attention to tease him and not me. “Oh, that was funny, but not as funny as the time he revealed you have a crush on Hyde” Donna said, “but good try”. I sighed. “Look, it’s not like i’m in love with him or something, he’s just a mystery I want to solve. A mystery with a kind smile and great sense of humor. Look, it’s nothing, Kelso is just obsessed with the idea his best friends will date” i said. “oh, Tell them what you told me, come on! It was hilarious” Kelso said, ignoring the last part of my confession, and when I refused he decided to share my words he did it himself. “God, Kelso, his voice is so hot, i can listen to him for hours even if it’s just the stupid car that runs on water non-sense” He said, immitating a high-pitched voice that didn’t really sound like mine. “That is not what i said” i tried to redeem myself, but Eric and Donna were too busy laughing to hear me. “I just said he’s voice is calming” I kept trying.

“Who’s voice?” Hude asked as he jumped over the couch and took the open spot next to me. “Y-” Kelso started, but i hit his chest, “-our mama” he changed the ending of the word, “BURN!”. “I was talking about the weather guy” I made up, but did I lie? “You’re so weird, man” Hyde sighed, stretching and leaving his hand on the couch. “Well, kelso, we have this thing, you coming?” Donna said, “with Jackie, the double date i can’t believe i agreed to”. Kelso looked confused, “it’s tomorrow”. “No, it’s today” Eric insisted, winking at him and nudging his head at me and hyde. “What? Jackie is going to kill me-” “we won’t tell her you forgot” Donna plays along. I saw right through the act, but kelso really thought he forgot.

He left the basement along with Eric and donna.It wasn’t the first time me and Hyde we’re alone, but usually it was Kelso ditching me and Hyde when the three of us hung out to try and get a girl to sleep with. I’m telling you, one day he’ll get someone pregnant.

“What’s with them?” Hyde sighed and got up to get a popsicle. “Who fucking knows?” i replied, trying to think of a way to change the subject. “You saw how Eric pointed at us? Like what, are they trying to get us alone?” Hyde continued, handing me a popsicle as he sat down. “I- yeah” i admitted, “Kelso has this crazy idea, he wants us to date cause we’re both his best friends or something” i explained, leaving out the part i was on board with the idea, and the fact that it was originally mine. “Oh, we should totally prank them!” Hyde said, “like, let’s pretend to date and be the most annoying couple ever”. I looked at him confused. “Like, we can use cutest couple names, ditch them to be alone or just make out in their face constantly” his smile got wider and wider, and I can't say no to that smile. “Sure, yeah, could be fun”.

The next day, I walked in the basement wearing your favourite outfit, ready to annoy the heck out of my friend. The moment you entered the room, Hyde got up and pulled you onto a hug. “Hey, lover boy” I said, kissing him on the lips. We had to practice doing that without laughing. We kissed like, 10 times yesterday when we planned the prank, his reply kept breaking us and we had to do it again. “Hi, apple pai” he said, kissing me one more time. Everyone looked at each other, exchaging “what the fuck?”s with their eyes. Hyde placed his hand on my waist and walked me to the couch, “Steven!” I laughed when he picked me up in bridal style and sat down, resting me in his lap. “God, babe, you look so hot today” Hyde said, sliding his hand down my side, settling on a not too sexual but not that friendly spot on my thigh. It was all planned, and fake, but the blush on my cheeks was as real as it gets. “Well, lover, I wanted to dress up for you” I said, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. “Uh, guys, what’s going on?” Jackie was the first to speak. “Oh, well, yesterday Kelso, Eric and Donna, pulled a little trick to get me and Hyde together, and it worked” I smiled. “Yeah, guys, thank you so much for helping me get with the most beautiful girl in the world” Hyde agreed, looking at me through his rosy sunglasses. I took them from him. “Hey!” he said, but before he got them back I put them on. I slide them down my nose and look up to him. “That was hot, so i’ll let it slide this time” he said, taking the glasses off of my face. The script we wrote was absolutely perfect.

The days have passed, and soon they turned into weeks, and our little show kept going. I’ll admit, kissing Hyde and ditching the gang to hang out with him (we pretended to leave for a different reason, tho), the fake double dates… it was fun. The longer we pretended to date, the more our couple-y behavior stuck with us, like, one time we met up for a pretend-date and he kissed me when he saw me. I kissed him back, it just felt natural. We got a good laugh out of it, but it happened more than once. I knew I had to ask him to stop this, because my feelings kept growing but he had none, plus I know he kept fooling around cause i’ve seen girls flirting with him, and they always left together.

We were in his room now, pulling another trick. “Oh, lover, yes” i called, trying to sound as breathless as i can. “Oh, buttercup, you're soooo hot” Hyde called, and jumped on his bed, making it creek. I had to really hold my laugh as I joined him.

“Oh, babe, you’re so good” I called, adding some moans in between words. “Nice” he whispered. We heard the door knob being messed with. Hyde was quick to push me down on the bed. He took off his shirt, hinting me to do the same as we got under the sheets. He got on top of me and pushed his lips against mine just as Michael opened the door.

“Dude!’ Steven called and pulled the covers over us as he fell on his back next to me. “Dude, we can hear you, that’s so gross. You two are-” Michael started. “Well, you can just take your hangout somewhere else, Kelso” i said, throwing the first thing I could grab in his face. It was my shirt. “Yeah, we are kind of in the middle, man” Hyde said. The moment Kelso left, Hyde and I started laughing like crazy.

“That was..” i said as he got up. “Yeah, i’m so good” he said, mimicking my breathless voice. “K, give me my shirt back” i said, trying not to look at his bare chest, and not luckily, he was already putting on his shirt. He went up to the door. “Kelso took it” Hyde said, grining. “Well, shit” I sighed, but he had a solution. “Take this” he said, and tossed me a Led Zeppelin shirt. “Thank you, lover boy” I said, staying under the covers. He looked at me, waiting. “Well, turn around, creep” i said, laughing. “As your boyfriend-” he started, but gave up when his eyes met mine, “fine”. He turned around, allowing me to put on his shirt. “You can look now” I said, fixing the shirt. “How do i look?” I asked. “So hot, buttercup” he replied, smirking and wrapping his hands around my waist and kissing me, forgetting that we are not actually dating. “Hyde, we need to break up” the words slip out of my mouth.

“what ? why?” he asked, “i mean, this is the best prank i ever pulled, and the most enjoyable” he said, his lips stretch into his familiar smirk. “Because-” i tried, but couldn’t come up with a good reason other than the truth. “I mean, you have to admit it’s fun” he said, his hands still around my waist. “Well, yeah, but not for the reason you think” i say, and the confused look in his eyes hurts me. “I- Hyde, this is.. Look, I know you’re sleeping around and that’s gonna blow our cover ``I finally find an answer, “you don’t want your friends to think you’re a cheater”. He looked even more confused. “(y\n), i haven’t touched any other girl since we started... this” he replies, pointing at me and at him. “But i saw you-” I insisted. “I couldn’t, every single time” he admits. Taking the sunglasses resting on his cabinet and putting them on. “Why would you do that? You really expect me to think a horny teenager gave up making out, possibly more, with really hot girls because of what? He’s fake dating a random girl?” I laugh sadly. “No, god, (y\n), you are not some random girl” he says, resting his hands on my arms. “Why-” “because i love you!”.

I don’t know who was more surprised at his words - him or me. We stayed quiet. “Are you- are you gonna say anything?” he broke the silence. “How about i’ll do something instead?” i said, taking a step closer to him. As I moved closer, I placed my hands around his neck. “What are yo-” he tried to ask, but I pulled myself up and connected our lips. Even though we kissed before, this time it was different. His lips moved against mine in a mix of relife, passion and love. He tasted like mint, orange flavoured popsicle and weed. “I forgot to mention, I love you too” I said, breaking the kiss. “Whatever man” he said, re-connecting our lips.

#steven hyde #steven hyde x reader #steven hyde imagines #steven hyde imagine #that 70s show #that 70s show x reader #that 70s show imagines

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slutforagoodsmut · 4 years

Text

We All Get Nightmares

(Lars x OC)

The waves crashed along the sand, the moonlight glittered across the sea. For once in a long time, there was silence, There was peace. No gem saving, no gem destroying. It was a quiet, normal night; and for once in a long time, Primrose went to bed without a sore body or broken bone. Curled up in the bed layed the precious girl, her dark locks of springs for hair bunched up in a ponytail, and the one streak of light pink laying lightly against her face. Her soft warm touch, her skin glowing in the moonlight that beamed through her window. Her pencil striaght physique now starting to blossom from child to young woman, her hips starting to curve out and chest starting to broaden. And on her back, in between her shoulder blades, sat a rose quarts gem that reflected off of any twinkling light, which she kept hidden beneath her hair. Primrose Universe was indeed a beauty, just like her mother was.

There she layed all snuggled up in her plush bed on the other side of the room, a small smile graced upon her lips as she clung to the teddy bear her father gave her all those years ago. She just looked like some ordinary 14 year old girl, a girl who wanted to go far in life, go beyond the limits as any teenager would. The Primrose everyone knows, the girl everyone cherishes, was much more than a silly little teenager. She was a gaurdian, a powerful protector of the gems; keeping the bad out. The twin sister of a powerful boy and the daughter of a gem herself.

But aside all that schmazzy jazzy stuff, Prim was just your avgerage teenager. A girl who listened to her father's old music and laughed at the silly faces he made. A girl who enjoyed her friend's company and eating doughnuts. Someone who loved adventure and would sometimes get in a lil trouble along with her brother. An open minded person who accepted anyone as a friend. That is who Primrose was.

It wasn't far into the night when Prim's phone began to buzz on her nightstand. Prim, being the light sleeper she was, woke immediately, her eyes being blinded by the light the phone gave off. She groaned. "Who's calling in the middle of the night?" She fumbled for the phone and pressed the 'accept call' button, holding it lazily to her ear. "Yo," she said.

"Prim, are you awake?" A certain Lars Barriga voice came through the phone. Prim rolled her eyes and sank her head back into her pillow.

"Oh yeah sure, totally awake, like i always am..." she peered over at her clock, "...at 2:30 in the morning," she said sarcastically.

"I know it's late but I just couldn't sleep! Maybe you could come over for a bit?" Lars asked, his voiced getting a bit high. "Ya'know, help me fall asleep?"

"You've gotta be kidding me Lars," she sighed, her hand sliding down her face. "Dude, you're like almost 17 years old, can't you tuck yourself in? I mean, haven't you tried calling Sadie?" Prim yawned out as she spoke, covering her mouth.

"Yes I could tuck myself in, thank you very much!" Lars hissed. "I just...I had a bad dream and now I can't sleep," he mumbled into the phone. "P-Please?"

Primrose looked back at the clock, then sat up and looked at Steven, who was sleeping soundlessly all the way on the other side of the loft. It'd be easy getting passed her brother, but what about the gems? Nothing could get passed them, and I mean nothing. She put a hand on her head and sighed again. "Fine, I'll be there in 15 minutes."

"thanks Prim, you're the best!" Lars said into the phone.

"I know I am," she grunted as she sat up, stretching her legs and arms. "Oh and Lars?"

"Yes?"

"You owe me." Was the last thing she said to him before ending the call. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. 'I swear to god if this is a joke...' Prim yawned again as she put her hair up in a messy bun, not bothering to do anything with it at the moment. She didn't bother changing either, and not that it was a big deal anways. Prim was wearing a pair of shorts and tank top, all she needed to do was throw on a bra and head out. Prim walked passed her brother and got her flip flops on, kissing him on the cheek before climbing down the loft. 'Was it cold out?' she wondered, before grabbing a sweatshirt just in case. Now here was the difficut part; getting passed Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl. Pearl was a nutjob when it came to safety, and on the other hand Amethyst could care less, so she would be easy to get by. But then there was Garnet. Garnet was a tricky one, and probably the sneakiest and wisest off them all.

"Alright one step at a time..." Prim whispered as she tip toed silently across the floor boards. Amethyst was snoring on the couch and Pearl was curled up in a ball, but where was Garnet? They should have been in the temple, so this was going to be a little harder than usual. Prim looked around. Uh oh, this wasn't good. Garnet must be in the temple, right? No harm at all! She lightly stepped around carefully, making sure not to step on a squeaky floorboard by mistake. 'Just an hour!' Thought Prim 'and I'll be back before sun rise!'

It took a few minutes but Primrose managed to slip out of the house quickly and quietly. "Phew, that was close," Prim said feeling a bit exhausted.

"What was close?" A voice asked.

She gasped, holding her breath as she clasped a hand over her mouth tightly. "Oh Bejeebus!" Prim slowly turned around to see the giant gem standing over her with her arms crossed, no emotions expressed over her face. It wasn't that she was terrified of Garnet...well....maybe just a tad, it was the fact that Garnet was always right, and to see Garnet dissaprove her actions was one of Prim's biggest fears.

"Where must you be so late at night?" Garnet asked.

"W-Well, I--uh, ya see, something--um c-came up! Yeah that's right, something came up and...." Prim faltered, looking down. Garnet raised a brow behind her glasses, putting a hand on Prim's shoulder. She looked up at the gem and sighed, rubbing the side of her arm. "Lars called me..."

"Lars?"

"Oh! I meant Big Donut Boy!" Prim corrected herself.

"And what does "Big Donut Boy" want with you at this hour of the night?"

"Its sort of embarrassing but...he had a nightmare. And he called me cuz he couldn't go back to sleep."

"A nightmare, huh?" Garnet repeated, putting her hands on her hips. "Well, if you must. This does sound important."

"Yeah I know Garnet I shouldn't leave without--wait what?" Prim stopped herself with wide eyes, looking up at Garnet like an idiot. "Really?"

"Yes, you may go, but don't tell Pearl."

Prim blinked, raising a brow. "Are you an imposter Garnet? Shouldn't you be giving me words of wisdom or something and telling me not to go?"

Garnet cracked a small smile and ruffled Prim's bed head. "Geez Prim, you make it sound like I'm another Pearl." Prom laughed at that. "But yes, I trust you. Just be back before Pearl notices."

"You got it Garnet!" They young girl whispered and gave the gem a quick hug before running down the steps.

*10 minutes Later*

The temple was only a few blocks away from Waterman St., so a walk to Lars's house was a piece of cake for Prim. Her sweatshirt was tied around her neck to keep her shoulders warm and hands tucked in her pockets with her phone. Like she expected, it was a little chilly, but nothing Prim couldn't manage. Matter a fact she loved the chilly weather, and sadly it was something Beach City hardly ever got.

In the distance Prim could see Lars sitting on the steps of his porch, resting his head on his lap. 'Oh man, maybe this really is serious,' she thought as she got closer. He looked miserable, but what was different? He always looked miserable, especially around Prim and Steven. Yes Prim knew Steven could be a bit annoying, but so was she at times! They both had many flaws and messed up--a lot--but hey that's what twins did together! It was both of them or none at all!

"Hey," Prim said, stopping in front of the Barriga Residence.

Lars looked up and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he hadn't slept for days! To be honest he looked like a crack head in Prim's opinion... 'No, he would never!' An image of Lars doing crack came to mind. Prim shuddered in fear. 'He may act like Mr.Badass all the time, but he wouldn't dare to do such a thing!'

"Oh, Prim! You're here!" Lars exclaimed a little groggily, as if he were just dozing off. He wore a black Under Armour tank and a pair of grey shorts, her hair a bit of a mess btw.

"Well no shit Sherlock, of course I'm here."

"How did you get out of that wacko of a house and passed that nut job of a family?" He questioned. 'Such a bitch...' Prim thought as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Watch it chicken legs, I still don't have a problem breaking your arm."

Lars backed off. "Alright alright."

"Well it was fairly easy to get passed my nut job of a family, besides, Garnet is covering for me."

He nodded and patted the spot next to him, indicating for Primrose to sit. Prim gladly took the seat and looked off into the distance, sitting in an awkward silence.

"Rough night?" she asked.

"Uh yeah, rough night," he said, sighing wand rubbing the back of his head. "It hasn't been good the past couple of weeks, I haven't gotten a single drop of good sleep."

"Have you gone to the doctors?"

"Phssht, the Doctors?" Lars scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Doctors are for wimps, big baby, wusses, shall I go on?"

"And the Doctors are for people who are in need of major help, for those who need a diagnosis, and for recovery," Prim corrected him, eyeing Lars up.

"Oh whatever," he groaned, putting his head in his hand. "My parents said that I should go to the Doctors but...I don't know I feel little weird about it."

"Yeah I get," Prim started, "the doctors could be a scary place, no lie, but the only thing they want to do is help you."

Lars sighed, looking down sadly. "Yeah..."

Prim put her hand on his shoulder. "Hey, why don't we go in? Sort of chilly out here don't you think?"

Lars looked at her with depressing eyes and nodded, getting up from his seat and Prim followed him in quietly. "My parents are away on a trip, won't be back till like sometime next week."

"That's pretty cool, gonna throw a few parties?" She elbowed his side and wiggled her brows. Lars shrugged and gave a very small smile.

"I suppose a party or two wouldn't be so bad," Lars thought aloud, flicking the lights on in the kitchen. There on the island sat a plate of doughnuts, soaking in all the glory. Prim licked her lips and her eyes lit up. Lars plopped down on a chair and the younger of the two sat across from him. "Want one?" Lars asked, taking a pink icing topped doughnut.

"Do I ever!" Exclaimed Prim, taking the one with white icing and rainobow sprinkles. She could never turn down the most delicious thing in the entire world. Well, right behind cookie cat. "Oh man these are bomb!"

"Big Donut never fails to impress," muffled Lars while eating his doughnut. After a few more bites of their delicious treats, Prim cleared her throat to speak.

"So how about we talk about the nightmare, hmm?"

"Oh, u-um, now that I think about it, I don't really think it's worth mentioning anymore." Lars rubbed his arm uncomfortable, fidgeting around in his seat.

"Dude I came all the way over here because you had a nightmare, I could be sleeping right now." She rolled her eyes. "So you're telling me."

"But it's stupid, really."

"Not to me it isn't."

"Well to me it is."

"C'mon Lars I didn't come here for nothin' "

"Prim just let it go."

"Nope."

"You're really starting to annoy me."

"Don't care, now spit it out already!"

"No!"

"Why not?!"

"Because it's dumb!"

"Its not dumb!"

"Yes! It! Is!"

"UGH!" Prim stood from her seat and jabbed her finger into Lars's chest. "Why must you be so freakin stubborn?!"

"Why are you always trying to get into everyone's business?!" Lars pushed Prim's arms away.

"YOU TOLD ME TO COME OVER!" Prim flailed her arms around. "God, you say you're life is so horrible, so miserable! Oh boohoo Lars!"

"Yeah! SO WHAT?!"

"Maybe if you talked about your feelings you would be a nicer person and everyone would like you!" Prim yelled at him, shoving the chair in and leaning over table to get in his face.

"Well in so sorry your majesty but I HATE talking about my feelings!"

"WHY?!"

"B-BECAUSE I'M SCARED!!!" Lars's hand went down and he hit the table with a loud bang. Silence fell between them, the only sounds filling the air at the moment was their heaving. "Are you happy?!" His voice cracked as he wiped the building tears from his eyes, sitting back down and hiding his face in his arms. Lars's shoulders shook as he cried and Prim looked down at him pitifully.

Prim sat back down and sighed, running a hand over her face. "Lars..."

"W-What?" He whimpered into his arms.

"Look at me."

Lars moved his head so that Prim could only see just his eyes; those dark eyes that were streaked with tears.

Prim put her hand on his arm and leaned in. "Tell me what happened."

Lars furrowed his brows, wiping his eyes and grabbing a tissue from the tissue box beside him. "It's just...it was all dark. No light, nothin, just pitch black. A-And I was alone! Just me, falling down an endless pit of darkness. Prim I couldn't escape! I was so scared! No mom and dad, no Sadie--no Steven...n-not even you..." he placed his hand over Prim's, looking away with tinted cheeks. "I thought it would never end. And then there was horrible voices. They said such hurtful t-things..." Lars shut his eyes tightly and his shoulders shook.

"What did these voices say Lars?" Prim asked gently.

"They....they...called me pathetic. A-A waste of s-space. They said my parents were ashamed of me. That I was a loser." He covered his eyes. "But they were true. These voices were right about everything they said."

Prim's eyes widened and it felt like her heart broke. 'Oh you poor thing...' She was his friend, this was probably the first time Lars has ever opened up to anyone, but Prim didn't know what to do.

"Why can't I just be like Steven?" Lars said. "Why can't I just be like...you?" He looked up at her. "You're kind to everyone and everything. You're smart, passionate, you help everyone who has a problem, and you make a new friend everyday--the same with Steven. Y-You're nice to me, even when I treat you badly," the teen looked away with shame.

Prim shook her head, "There's only one Steven, there's only one of me, and then there's just one of you. And to just think of two Stevens drives me nuts," she cracked a toothy smile, thinking of her brother. "The things those voices said aren't true in any way, shape, or form, I promise you that. You are who you are, and no one could change you. Sure you have your bad days, but who doesn't? And sure you have more bad days than good, but that just makes the good days seem even more special then they really are." Prim cupped Lars's cheeks, wiping the tears away with her fingers. "You're special."

"R-Really?" Sniffed Lars, swallowing hard and face becoming hotter.

"In my eyes you are. To me you always will be." The two smiled at each other, faces rather close now. "We all get nightmares. Even you Lars, even I."

"Thank you, Prim..." Lars whispered. "Ya'know, now that I look at you more and more often, I never told you this, but you really are beautiful."

"Jeez, I get you to open up once and you're already telling me I'm beautiful?" She smirked, blowing a lose strand of hair out of her face.

He rolled his eyes, moving his eyes away from hers. "W-Well, since we're in the moment n' all, I thought I should just tell you. I mean, you're gorgeous!"

Prim's face started to feel hot with embarrassment, the sweatshirt suddenly not being needed anymore. Prim pulled back and pulled the sweatshirt off, the cool breeze hitting her skin and her gem glowing with passion. It was out there, making her body feel warm with....love? 'This is an odd feeing...' she thought to herself. She only ever felt her dad's fatherly love, or Steven's brother love, even the Gem's motherly love in a way...never this kind. Maybe it wasn't even love, she didn't know, but from then on when she looked at the boy in front of her, she felt...different. Her stomach tingled, like butterflies swarmed inside. Her heart pounded in her chest, her cheeks going red as she leaned forward again.

"O-Oh w-w-well thanks," Prim laughed softly, rubbing the back of her head. "You flatter me---

A pair of lips pressed against hers, a hand on the back of her head. Prim stuttered into the kiss, her heart skipping a few beats, a feeling of warmth engulf her. Prim kissed Lars back, holding his shoulders. A few seconds later they both broke away, gasping for air, falling back in their seats. She touched her lips with her fingertips, slouching in her chair. 'Did he just...?'

Lars himself looked like he couldn't believe what he had done. He covered his mouth, his face passed the color red, looking away out of sheer humiliation. "I'm sorry Prim, I...I-I don't know what came over me--" Prim rose from her seat, looking at Lars with a smirk. "Wait, where are you going?" He asked, sounding a bit saddened and panicked.

She rolled her dark eyes at him and walked around the table and stood in front of Lars. "Where am I gonna go?" She asked, a smile on her lips.

(Ok so like I don't know if this is Would be labeled as pg 13/14 form this point on, so don't go nutso in the comments!)

Prim sat down on Lars's lap, facing him with her arms around his neck. Lars seemed to be in a dazing shock, his eyes still glittering with settling tears and face shining with streaks. She pressed against his chest, a small cheeky smile spread against her face. Lars stuttered over his words, his hands resting on her back, fingers moving over her gem. "I-I-I like you..." Lars mumbled quietly, looking her in the eyes (I know, real cheesy). "Like...really really like you..."

"Really? I haven't noticed," Prim raised her brows, "I'm just curious why me and not Sadie."

"Sadie..." he started, "I only ever seen Sadie as a friend. Nothing more, but I think she feels a bit stronger about me instead."

"You don't think she'd be really mad at us, do you?" The girl of 14 asked a bit worriedly. After all, Sadie was her friend too, and she would never want to upset her.

"I don't know, actually, we'll just have to see."

"So that means..." Prim laughed a little, shrugging her shoulders, "that we're dating? Like...a thing?"

Lars smiled widely, nodded his head, and rested his forehead against hers. Prim kissed his cheek, then his jawbone, and then laid a small kiss on his neck, and then a bigger one where his shoulder and neck met. "You won't ever abandon me, would you?" he moaned, his grip on Prim becoming stronger. "Like, leave me for someone better?"

Prim, the girl with dark, long springs for hair, chuckled softly, hugging the older boy's skinny yet strong chest to her. "Never" is what she whisper, giving him a loving kiss on the cheek.

#steven universe #lars #lars barriga #lars x reader #stuff #idfk #garnet #pearl steven universe #amethyst #Steven

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babysizedfics · 4 years

Note

4!!!

-🍼

vee shows michael her pacis

vote from this concept voting post!

so its the first time michael has visited the house since vee told him about her regression. he was super supportive and understanding - honestly it made a lot of sense given what he had seen of her behaviour

and michael reassured her that he was okay with it all and that she can regress with him if she wants to. so before michael visits, vee purposefully doesnt hide any of the little items around her room as she had done every time he visited previously

and when michael comes in he sees the sanrio and winnie the pooh colouring books on her bed. he just smiles and asks if she was doing colouring before he got there

vee gets a bit shy because its so much more real to have him actually talk abt it openly, and she just shakes her head, blushes and starts to chew her nail

michael obviously notices her nervousness so he doesnt push anythinf and they just sit down on the bed to watch a cartoon - michael isnt into kids shows rlly but hes been watching steven universe with vee recently

and eventually vee notices michaels gaze has wandered during the show and hes looking at the bedside table - she looks and goes rlly red because she FORGOT that she left out a couple of pacis,

she looks up at michael kindve scared that hes gonna think its weird but he just gives her a soft little look and whispers "do you wanna show me them?"

vee squeaks and quickly hides her head behind his shoulder and he giggles "its okay we dont have to" and goes back to watching the screen

but vee is chewing her lip and fidgeting with michaels sleeve and then after some internal debate and a lot of nervousness she tugs his sleeve

so michael looks down at vee and she just,, points to the pacis silently

michael nods "yeah kitty, i saw the pacifiers. did you wanna show me them?"

and hes sounds kind, michael is always so kind, that she nods rly shy but clings to his arm tighter, not moving to pick the pacis up.

so michael reaches over and picks both of them up and puts them gently in her lap,

her fingers go to the lilac sparkly one instanty and turn it over in her hand and michael prompts "is that your favourite one? its definitely your favourite colour"

and vee just smiles and feels less shy and "um yea.. i think so.... but- but um i like all of them really..."

and she tells mimi abt all the different colours she has and how nice they feel in her mouth and she even mentions that she uses them when big sometimes for anxiety - she flips the dark blue one over to show him the clear teat and explains that one is better for chewing. thats why she has two next to her all the time so if shes little she goes for the softer cloudy teat and if shes big and anxious she uses the firmer clear one and it helps her breathe slowly

michael is actually super impressed and curious about that "oh! oh like oral stimming! like the chewy necklaces!" and vee smiles "yeah!"

then the convo abt the pacis goes quiet and vee is leaning against him and fiddling with the lilac paci in her lap, smiling softly down at it

then suddenly michael asks, sounding almost shy "kitty? can i maybe... ask you something?"

vee feels her heart stutter. she gets rlly nervos and her eyes tear up in a second because oh no hes uncomfortable he thinks its weird he's gonna ask me to never show him little stuff again oh no

she rlly quiet goes "mhm" and braces herself

then mimi asks rlly sweetly "can i maybe see you with it in? its okay if not i just kinda wanna see..."

vees cheeks quickly go hot and she pulls back a little to look up at him and check his facial expression

he's smiling a little shyly. "i promise its not because i wanna laugh or anything i just... i dunno i just wanna see, i think itll be cute" and hes a bit blushy

vee is completely thrown off by michael actually wanting to see her use her paci but,,, she hesitates then RLLY quickly puts the paci in her mouth and hurriedly covers her face with both hands

mimi giggles and says "aww vee, its ok! but i cant see you" and he rlly gently puts his hands on top of vees and she doesnt react badly so he pulls them away from her face and chuckles "hello kitty!"

at the nickname she slowly looks up at him and is sucking the paci noticeably now to help with the nerves. its bobbing in her mouth and shes blushing and her eyes are wide and michaels face instantly lights up and he coos "AWWW KITTY 💖" really gushing and adoring

vee breaks into a big big smile behind her paci and she squeaks and buries her head on michaels shoulder again as he tells her "vee oh my gosh, you look even cuter than I thought!"

"nooo mo mo" vee giggles embarrassed, itching to crawl into mimis lap but theyve never done that before so she just settles for wiggling her butt on the bed and pulling her skirt down to make sure mimi can't see her pullup

"yes yes! youre so pretty kitty~" michael says really baby talky and pokes her cheek softly (he knows she loves being called that) (she squeals a little)

michael doesnt draw too much attention to vee after that, after the little blushy giggle fit he asks her if she is regressed and she takes her paci out to say she isnt, if she was regressed she wouldnt be able to talk or really sit up on her own

so michael asks more about how she uses the pacis as a grownup for anxiety. and after talking about it they both simultaneously pause then go...

"do you think you might wanna try?"

"do you think it would make me calm?"

and then they both giggle and vee hands the dark blue paci to michael smiling rlly big and her chest is bubbly with excitement because mimi is making this feel so NORMAL and fun!

and thats why when patton walks into vee's room twenty minutes later with snacks and appl mango juice, he is greeted with the image of vee sucking her sparkly lilac paci and having fallen asleep on michaels shoulder, and michael just scrolling on his phone and spinning the blue paci in his mouth

patton actually immediately whisper apologizes, he thought that michael would be embarrassed and that it was meant to be a secret

but michael isnt embarrassed at all, he asks through the paci "oh hi pap! are bose cookiebs?"

pat nods and places the snacks on vee's desk then quietly asks if michael regresses too (he was totally ready to adopt btw lol)

but michael just laughs and takes the paci out and is like "nah i just wanted to see what it feels like but i dont think theyre for me. kitty sure looks cute with them though"

then he looks down and smiles at sleepy vee whos just blinking awake and she asks rlly quiet and high pitched "wh- mimi?" through her paci

michael giggles and looks rlly softly down at vee as he pokes her nose "im still here, kitty. you fell asleep"

and vee sighs and buries her face against his arm and suckles on her paci more

michael laughs and wiggles his arm to get her to stop faling asleep "vee no cmon your dad brought snacks! i wanna eat, get off"

and of course that makes vee cheeky and she wraps both arms tightly around mimis arm and closes her eyes as if she's asleep but shes smiling mischievously behind her paci

"nooo im hungry" "im theepy!" "no youre not sleepy you were already sleeping!" "till theepy" "youre not, youre hungry" "nop hungy" "YOU ARE im speaking it into existence your so hungry right now" "nooo thtop it!" "no i wont stop you are LITERALLY starving you want a cookie so so bad right now, you want a chewy sweet cookie and nice cold apple mango juice" .... "arrghhh now i wan cookieth and juith!" "hahahha"

and patton just watches on with the softest smile because hes so happy vee found such a wonderful supportive friend

#I LOVE MIXHAEL I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM #little/big michael #little/big concepts #little/big ocs #agere virgil #ts agere #cg patton #asks #🍼 anon

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Note

In the HOS Universe, how would Steve and Y/N cope with a betrayal whether it's from someone close to them or a servant or one of their people? I just read the oneshot you posted (I loved btw, the interaction with Steve and Y/N was sweet)and the beginning made me weary of Quill at first bc I was like ~*food that he brought from his travels? sounds kinda sus pls don't eat it Y/N bc Quill probably has bad intentions*~ and turns out Quill didn't have really bad intentions so I'm like that's a relief

Occurs shortly after the events in Mirror

Heart of Steel – Masterlist

Y/N jolted awake for reasons unknown. Perhaps it was a nightmare. If it was, she had immediately forgotten what it entailed.

She turned to see if she’d woken her husband. But she found his side of the bed completely empty. The covers were still intact, proving that he had never even come to bed.

The fire in their bedchambers was still crackling, making Y/N suspicious that Steve had been in to add more wood to assure she didn’t get cold without him.

Y/N moved out of their giant bed and grabbed her robe.

Though there was a hundred places in the castle where the King could be hiding, she knew the most likely one.

Y/N opened her bedchambers to find knights guarding the door.

They both bowed their heads respectively.

“I assume he is in his study?” She asked one of them.

He bowed his head again, “Aye, Your Majesty.”

She nodded and gave a polite smile before making her way there.

The study was across the hall from the giant library, which Y/N and the children were often found during the days. Sometimes Steve would keep the door of his study open while he was busy, in hopes that he could hear his wife and children’s voices or laughter.

Now Y/N did not see the need in knocking. This was her home, after all.

Steve didn’t even raise his head upon her entrance as he looked through scrolls of parchment.

Y/N slowly made her way to his desk. “My Love, it is nearly morning. You need rest.”

He finally lifted his head to acknowledge his wife.

Then he shifted his position, his body language making it clear that he wished for her to come to sit on his lap.

She happily obliged.

Y/N caressed his cheek. “What troubles you?”

The King sighed. “Someone knew that our children were traveling. Someone betrayed us. There is no other explanation.”

Y/N nodded, knowing he was right. The idea had been haunting her as well.

“They must have received money form the bandits...” she thought aloud.

“The lives of our children...all for mere coin,” Steve agreed with disgust.

“Surely they did not wish to kill them then. They most likely wished to hold them for ransom, hoping we would pay a large sum for their safe return.”

“And we would have...” Steve clarified.

They both know he would’ve. There was nothing the King wouldn’t do to save and protect his children.

“I know what keeps you awake,” Y/N told him gently as she held his face.

“Is that so?”

“It is not the mystery of who could betray us. It is that you know who it is and you dread giving your sentence,” she told him.

He gave his wife a sad smirk. “Your mind still amazes me yet, my love.”

“So, who is it?” She asked, ignoring the compliment.

“It is Wilfred Malick,” Steve sighed.

“He has served my family since my father was a young man – before he even married my mother.”

Y/N frowned. “Why would he do such a thing?”

“Every traitor has their reasons. I do not care to ponder. All of them must face the consequences for their betrayal. He will be no exception.”

Y/N studied her husband’s face for a few moments. “A just and rightful king still must serve punishment to those who have betrayed him. It does not make you any less of a good man, Steven.”

He nodded, knowing she was right. But his doubts still haunted him.

“Now, please come to bed. You need rest.” Her command was made final with a soft kiss to his lips.

He followed her like a sailor follows a siren. And together they returned to bed.

--------

Wilfred Malick was thrust to the stone floor at the feet of his King and Queen, who sat on their thrones with their heads held high.

“Do you know why you are here, Malick?” One of the Knights of Howl asked him.

“I-I-I am innocent,” the man stuttered.

Steve glared at the peasant. “You dare lie to me, your King?”

The man remained quiet.

“You have betrayed me, and therefore you have betrayed your kingdom.”

“I-I-I do not know what you speak of, Your Majesty.”

“Liar!” Steve bellowed. “It was you who divulged the whereabouts of my two children, your prince and princess. You were the only one who possessed the letter digressing their travels to Zamora. You sold your knowledge to pillagers,” Steve hissed. “And for what? For mere coin.”

Malick was now shaking, knowing full well that he had been caught.

And in his desperation, he shot forward to the Queen’s feet.

“Please, Your Majesty. Show me mercy. You possess a woman’s kindness, a Queen’s mercy. I beg of you.”

But Steve had already shot to his feet and drew his sword as the man had taken even half of a step toward his Queen.

The rest of the knights in the court had already drawn their swords, as well.

Steve held his sword to Malick’s neck. “It would be wise to step away from your Queen’s feet. How dare you even address her directly!”

Y/N glared at the man, ignoring her husband’s defense. “You will find no mercy from me, Malick. You threatened my children. Therefore you threatened your very kingdom.”

Malick threw himself back at the Queen’s words.

“You are sentenced to execution. You shall be hanged at sunrise tomorrow,” Steve declared loudly, making sure all of the court could hear.

Malick shook his head. “Please, Your Majesty. I wish for the Guillotine.”

Steve stepped down from his throne, slowly taking the steps down so he was on the same level as the traitor.

He lowered so his mouth was to his ear. “You risked the lives of my son and daughter. You do not merit such a request. You will be hanged, and the kingdom will watch as the last few moments of your life are taken from you.”

And as promised, Malick stood on a platform in the royal square the next morning.

The townspeople had come to watch, as if it were some form of entertainment.

He looked up to see the King and Queen look down on him from their balcony.

But as the platform disappeared from below him, his death was not instant. His neck did not break. And the knot was not tight enough on his neck, for it took 15 minutes for the Malick to die.

But throughout the whole time, the King and Queen’s gaze did not falter.

That day the people of Midgard learned what would happen if they were to betray their kingdom. King Steven was a just and rightful king. And the people loved him for it. But he was not one to cross, and Midgard saw what happened when the people the King loved were threatened.

#heart of steel #heart of steel one shot #heart of steel drabble #heart of steel headcanons #heart of steel asks #heart of steel questions #king!steve rogers x reader #king steve rogers of midgard #queen Y/N of midgard #king!steve rogers x queen!reader

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novantinuum · 4 years

Text

Crack the Paragon, Chapter 10

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 5.8K~

Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart.

Chapter summary: In which Steven's done with moping around and waiting for something to change.

You can find the AO3 link in the reblogs! (I have to omit them from the original post these days to ensure this will show up in the tags.) If you enjoyed this, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos on AO3 as well.

A big thank you to my friend Ganaroth for helping me with edits for this chapter!

Chapter 10: Beta, Part 1

Morning light filters through the loft’s window and glints off his phone screen, obscuring the selfie Connie just sent from his view. Though at some deep cognitive level Steven’s a bit annoyed at this interference, outwardly he moves on automatic with barely a feather ruffled, rolling onto his back atop the rumpled bedspread. He holds his phone above his face— right over his nose— humming as he admires the photo. She’s grinning, her long hair pinned back with clips. Her eyes shimmer with every bit of joy a smile that wide suggests. True happiness. Before he knows it he feels his cheeks lift, a smile of his own stretching across his face to mirror hers.

The rest of the photo is just as beautiful.

Beyond the railing his friend leans on is a breathtaking view of wild grasses, ferns, and delicate purple flowers, the patches of greenery half submerged in a lake of water as far as one can imagine. A large flock of birds float on the water’s surface some distance away. Behind her, the setting sun bathes the sky in streaks of orange and pink, the warmth of the ambient light kissing her brown skin. It looks like something straight out of a storybook.

Either that, or a dream. A good dream, the kind that lingers in your mind afterward like the sweet scent of wild strawberries.

oh, that’s so pretty!! he types in response, fingers flying over the keys. where is this?

Just as he hits send, though, another message from her pushes through and answers his question:

Morning!!! :DD Soooo rn we’re exploring this really cool wetlands area! Service is pretty terrible out here btw, so I probably can’t talk for a bit. Fingers crossed my texts send!

His heart grows warm as he reads her words. Even if it’s not as good as seeing her face to face, he’s still so happy they can communicate while she’s on her trip. She looks like she’s having so much fun. He wastes no time in sending a whole cluster of hearts, stars, and smiley faces back at her.

But as he watches his message deliver, the text’s bubble shifting from grey to blue, he finds that airy, bubbly feeling he got looking at Connie’s photo pulling away from him like sand and driftwood on the receding tides. Somehow, all these emoticon smiles just ring hollow right now.

Four days have passed since the disaster everyone’s come to refer to in whispers as ‘the forge incident.’ Not many, not enough for the terrifying memory of what happened down there amidst the blackened stone and fire to stop seeping into his dreams, but thankfully enough that the Gems have stopped coddling and babying him about it. (A sweet relief, that, and one of the many reasons he’s not planning on telling any of them about his recent nightmares. Goodness knows they already have enough to worry about.) Four days. That’s it. The thought of just how little time that is leaves him dizzy. Four days since he was almost shattered by someone he thought was a friend. Four days since two halves fused back into a whole, since his gem rotated to expose the facets that before, his mo... that Rose had hid from her friends… from the whole world. Four days since discovering that his pupils apparently morph into pink rimmed diamonds now whenever he taps into his powers. (And wasn’t that just another wallop to the gut for everyone, Pearl especially). Four days without Garnet, without stability, without blissful protection from the truth: that Rose wasn’t truly the quartz she claimed she was.

Steven still doesn’t understand the how or the why of that.

Truth be told, it’s not a topic he’s ready to dwell on yet.

He shifts to sit up on his bed. Somewhere on the distant shore beyond the window’s glass Amethyst is shouting, her rhythmic, guttural battle cries loud enough that they’re audible from inside the house. There’s no end to this on the radar. For the past few days she’s done nothing but seclude herself away and drill, pushing her hard light body to the brink through endless strength and agility exercises. In the light of recent difficulties no one’s addressed it with her yet, but it’s no secret this is partly related to her insecurities about Jasper.

Meanwhile, Ruby (who finally returned home on her own yesterday morning) sits on the floor right below him, handling the controller of his Grintendo console with an iron grip that would serve as a genuine contender in Beach City’s underground arm wrestling league. He set her up on his brand new copy of Fight Fighters just an hour or so ago. As far as he knows, she’s enjoying it. It’s sorta hard to tell. She certainly hasn’t given up yet, (she’s way too stubborn for that), but it seems like the levels are difficult enough that they’re giving her a run for her money. Glancing away from his phone, he watches her fuss with the first boss fight for a moment. The Gem’s face is— if it’s possible— even redder than usual as she mashes the proper buttons for her character’s combo attack, muttering in syllables spoken too low for him to intelligibly understand.

A few minutes pass. Ruby sneaks in one solid strike, but eventually the boss overtakes her by merit of their sheer size alone, and her character is defeated. Game Over flashes on the screen in bold orange striped letters.

“Aw, phooey! You were really close that time,” he says.

Truth be told, her playing style is kinda… a huge mess, but there’s no encouraging way to say that. Plus, it’s not like it’s a lie to say she got closer to beating this fight than the last time she attempted it. Maybe she’ll figure it out with a few more rounds.

Ruby drops the controller in her lap, and glances back at him. “Heh. Thanks, Steven,” she responds with a weak smile. “At least I finally got in a hit, right?”

“Yeah, you’re getting better every round! You still up for more? We can play tag team together, if you want.”

“Eh, I’m done for today. I’m no good at these kinda games. At least, not without...“

A wave of melancholy envelops her in a flash, suffocating the last glints of light within her burgundy red irises. Inhaling deeply, she lifts her gemless hand, holding it to her chest tight as she mourns what used to be. Steven doesn’t move to say anything, letting her have her silent moment. Reassurance can be nice, but as he’s learned recently, the sad truth is that sometimes not every problem can be solved with a few well-thought words.

Amethyst’s distant shouts interrupt the somber atmosphere like a jackhammer to concrete, yanking them both solidly back into reality. Ruby’s brow creases.

“Is she still at it out there?” she says, frowning as she glances at the door. “She looked exhausted when she came outta her room this morning.”

Steven frowns, stuffing his phone in his pocket. “Yeah. I tried to ask if she wanted to play Topple Tower with me last night, but I’m pretty sure she was ignoring me. I hope she’s okay…”

Sighing, she slumps back against the large swath of comforter that dangles halfway off his mattress, letting her compact, coily hair smush against its surface. “Oh, she’s not. No one in this dang house is. I just wish Sapphire would come back already,” she says, voice cracking as she speaks her name. “She’s been in there for so long now.”

Prompted by her heartbroken words, he glances at the temple door across the house, seeing both Pearl and Sapphire’s gems alight on the central star. Pearl is simply taking a rest in solitude this morning, but as for the blue Gem… she hasn’t shown her face since she disappeared into her room four days ago. It’s beginning to become mighty worrying. And besides, he really misses her. They barely get a chance to hang out beyond the rare emergency. His lip juts out in a small pout.

It’s so hard to move on with life when you’re constantly being reminded of what once was.

Eventually, Ruby decides she’s had enough challenge for the morning and passes command of the controller to him. Figuring he’s got nothing better to do today, he shrugs and starts a new save file. Half an hour or so passes as he grinds through levels like a pro. Now sitting next to him, bundled like a burrito in one of his blankets, the red Gem watches his gameplay with starry eyes, enraptured. He double jabs at the D-pad to call upon a secret ability, fingers blazing across the buttons with practiced fluency. Just as he’s about to hit the finishing blow on Professor Doom, the beach house door slams open. On sheer impulse he flings the controller to free his hands, his whole body seizing upon the sound. Hard plastic clatters against the floor. The world tints pink.

Ruby jolts to attention from inside his bubble, struggling to unwind herself from the blanket's grasp. “Whoa, what’s—“

“Hey, nerds,” Amethyst mumbles, dragging herself and her uncoiled whip through the doorway. The length of the weapon drags along the floorboards like a dejected dog’s tail. Her tired, hardened pupils meet his no doubt diamond-shaped ones, shades of confusion flickering across her expression as she visibly takes note of the shimmering sphere he’s subconsciously enveloped himself in. “Geez, it’s just me.”

“I- I know,” he croaks, flushing red, “s-sorry, I know. You spooked me, ‘s all.”

She squints, and dissipates her whip. “Dude, I didn’t even do anything.”

“I know... It’s just me being dumb, sorry.”

“You’re not dumb,” Ruby reminds him with a saddened frown, placing her gem adorned hand on his shoulder.

He doesn’t respond, instead taking a deep breath and willing the bubble to recede. Once it’s all but disappeared in a shimmering afterimage of hard light, he crawls across the floorboards to retrieve his poor abused controller. Joystick securely within his grip once more, his eyes drift back to his game. Seems he’s in dire health. Not only did his character lose his perfect attack window, but Dr. Doom has healed himself and continued to rail upon him while he remained idle. His heart drops.

“Awww,” he whines, deflating. “I almost had ‘im!”

The temple door slides open, causing both Steven and Ruby to snap to awareness. (For wildly differing reasons of course, but the result is the same.) Amethyst stands beyond the warp pad, about to cross the threshold into solitude once more.

Nooo, don’t leave! his heart cries in silence. You just came back!

This conversation is already the most interaction he’s gotten out of her since their waffle breakfast four days ago. Ever since, she’s hidden herself away to brood and train. He scowls, fingers shifting rhythmically on the casing of his game controller. Gosh, he’s so sick and tired of this. He’s tired of moping, of acting like they can never have a happy moment ever again just because their circumstances are different now. It’s not true. Things can get better! Heck, he’ll make it better! Somehow. Maybe. He just needs to figure out a plan, and soon… before everyone scatters to be on their own again.

Hmm, think, Steven, think think think! What makes Amethyst happy? Destroying trash? She’s been at it all morning already, probably not. Food? Wouldn’t necessarily get her out of the temple.

He eyes a green sock puppet strewn on the floor by his closet. Months-old memories rush through his mind, of wearing a cardboard box on his head, insisting amidst protests that this puppet represented the emerging Cluster.

...Peridot?

They did get along really well at Funland a few weeks back. Hmm. Y’know, that might actually work.

“Hey, Amethyst,” he calls, and sets the controller on his bedspread. She stops halfway through the doorway of her room, motionless, seemingly waiting for him to continue. It almost looks as if she wants him to give her a reason to stay outside. “You, uh- are you done training for today?”

“For now,” she answers in a low voice, rhythmically clenching and unclenching her fists.

“D’ya maybe wanna go visit Lapis and Peridot with me? Get outta the house?”

She turns, lips pursed as she deliberates in depth. After what feels like— to his antsy, impatient soul— an eternity later, she responds with a half-hearted shrug.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

Steven grins. He scrambles to his feet and floats off the loft to the ground floor before she can decide otherwise. “Sweet, let’s go right now!” he says, bursting with enthusiasm. After crossing the room in a flash, he takes ahold of Amethyst’s arm and gently leads her up the steps to the warp pad, the other Gem making no obvious signs of dissent. Good. That’s a good sign. The immediate problem sorted, he glances back from whence he came. “Ruby, you want in?”

She’s still tangled within his bedding, but shifts upon mention.

“Nah, I’m good,” she says, rolling on her back under the covers so that she’s peering at them upside down. “If Sapphire finally comes out, I wanna be here for that.”

Steven nods. “Okay! Well, see ya’! We’ll be back sometime later this afternoon.”

“Probably,” Amethyst mutters, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, maybe longer, maybe not. We’ll see! Feel free to play any of my games if you wanna, okay?”

“And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, ya’ party animal,” the quartz drones, the bite of dull sarcasm seeping into her words.

With a resounding ring the warp activates and whisks them away.

_________

The young half-Gem takes a deep lungful of air as he skips through the grassy countryside, his chest expanding to full capacity. Ah, it feels so good to be outside, and with a change of scenery, at that! He should’ve done this ages ago.

Outside of all the heartache of their recent family crisis, it’s a perfect September day; not too warm and not too blustery. The sky’s almost entirely clear, barring the faint streaks of white softening the horizon's edges. Birds chirp brazenly as they swoop with daring purpose from tree to tree. A few leaves are just beginning to flutter down from their overstuffed boughs. ‘Tis the season! Pretty soon this area will be awash with sprinkles of vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows. Gee, he hopes he can convince Amethyst to goof off in the woods with him again this year. They could go leaf sledding! That was the most fun he’d had in ages when they did it last time.

How is Amethyst doing, anyways?

Masking his worried frown, he glances behind. Her lips press in a sour scowl, her non-dominant hand clenched by her side. Barely a heartbeat passes as she reaches to her gem with the other, pulling her whip into existence in a glittering flash of light. Instantaneously, the crystal tips of the three-pronged flail expand into barbed spheres. She mutters to herself as she grips the handle, unsatisfied. He doesn’t understand why, though? She summoned it so fast! Like, under a second for sure. As far as he’s concerned, that’s awesome!

He watches her summon, dissipate, and re-summon her whip three times in a row before he decides it's time to intervene with her spiraling frustration.

“Hey, don’t ya’ wanna take a break from all that for a bit?” he begins with a measure of caution. “You’ve been working super hard lately!”

“I already am taking a break," she says, slashing at a few rocks strewn on the ground as they climb the last rolling hill. “That’s why I’m here with you, right?”

“Well sure, but breaks aren't supposed to be about training, they’re supposed to be about having fun. And visiting Peridot and Lapis should be tons of fun, I promise!”

Amethyst’s eyes narrow at the very thought. “Yeah, ‘cause when I think fun, I think Lapis.”

“Hmm, I wonder what they’re up to lately,” he muses out loud, hand pressed to his chin.

She lets out a dry scoff, allowing her whip to dissipate once more. “Don’t know, don’t care. Let’s just get this over with.”

He frowns. His shoulders drooping a bit at the sight of her almost hostile melancholy, he glances away.

Thankfully, in a well-timed diversion from the worries of her mental state, Lapis and Peridot’s place of settlement comes into full view as they reach the hill’s summit. Steven’s jaw falls ajar, stopping in his tracks at the sight. (Amethyst, who isn’t paying attention to where she’s walking amidst her brooding, almost rams into the back of him.)

“Whoa,” he says, drinking in the new additions. “Look what they did to the barn!”

He’s not sure ‘barn’ is an apt description for it anymore. No, no. Rather, in the weeks since he last saw Lapis and Peridot, this place has transformed into a full-out homestead.

The grain silo that stood nearby has been tilt at an angle and used to enclose the side of the barn Peridot blew a hole in with her epic giant robot. Their smaller than average lake? It’s now fitted with a ladder, along with metal piping to keep the water level high. Stretched taut between the roof of that silo and a funky hodgepodge spire they formed out of old airplane parts is a clothes line, with a number of shirts and towels hanging off it. Admiring the finer details of their set up, if a person could point at an object and conceivably call it junk, they’ve probably found a creative way to make it decorative. Rusty bicycles, old tires, couch cushions, broken deer antlers, you name it. And then that old truck he slept in every night while working on the drill? It now serves as the proud centerpiece of their little home, the cargo bed solidly affixed above the barn’s entrance. He spots the two former Homeworld Gems sitting up there with the TV, shaded from the midmorning glow with a sun bleached umbrella. Whatever they’re watching, they’re transfixed.

Grinning, he peels away from Amethyst and dashes the rest of the way, feeling the faint breeze dance between his curls. Wow wow wow, he’s seriously got like a hundred questions for them, and a hundred missed hugs to make up for!

“Hey, guys!” he calls, once he’s directly below the truck.

Lapis’s browline raises, attention nabbed. It’s enough to peel her eyes away from the television (is that Camp Pining Hearts he hears??) to meet his. A subtle but undoubtedly caring smile rushes across her face as she sprouts wings and drops from the truck’s bed to greet him.

“Steven! It's so good to see y- oof!”

He nearly barrels her over with his hug, clutching to her like a lone life raft in the midst of the open sea. Surprised and still quite rigid in her affections, her arms awkwardly move to pat his back in return. It’s a silent embrace on his part, yet simultaneously manages to say more than words alone ever could. At this point he’s not even sure words could do justice to the complex emotions that are all jumbled in his head. Only a few short weeks have passed since they hung out together. So why then does he feel like he hasn’t seen either of them in years?

“Steven, Amethyst!” Peridot chimes eagerly, dropping down from the truck and striding out into the sun. She screeches to a halt in front of them, expression pressing inwards in that uniquely inquisitive Peridot-like manner as she takes inventory of the scene before her. “Uhm… Is… everything okay?”

He pulls back from the stunned Lapis, and gently wipes at the corners of his eyes. “Yeah, I’m just really, really happy to see you guys, that’s all!”

“Oh, yes! Of course. It’s only natural to miss the fulfillment of our company,” she says without missing a beat. Turning her gaze to her other visitor, the green Gem balls her hand against her chin. “Amethyst! Something looks different about you…”

She crosses her arms over the white tank top of her new form, her nose scrunching up. “Like what?”

“Have you grown taller since the last time I saw you?”

Amethyst’s eye twitches. An infinitude of silence passes, in which she shoots her a glare sharper than the edges of the crystal studs on her whip. Honestly, being on the receiving end of her weapon might’ve hurt less. Sweat beads at his brow as he watches the situation unfold, yearning with every fiber of his being for a world where he actually feels confident enough to delicately intervene instead of silently standing by as Peridot’s sense of tact veers straight off a cliff.

Behind them, Lapis saves them both and clears her throat.

“O-or… maybe I was mistaken,” the former kindergartener says lowly, flushing with shame. “My apologies.”

There’s a whisper of chill to the air enough to make him shiver as the quartz once more chooses not to respond, and shifts her gaze to her feet. She digs divots into the dirt with her toes, already disengaging from social interaction again, slipping further away with every passing birdsong from the entire purpose of this friendly visit. He presses his lips tight, masking a frown. So far, nothing is going as planned, huh? As big of a dreamer he may be, he can’t say he’s surprised. Nothing in his life has gone to plan since he accidentally slipped on that tree branch inside Lion’s mane. Still, there’s gotta be some way to save this, right?

Come on, Steven, think positive!

Before anyone can quite begin to catch on to his troubled nature, he plasters a manufactured smile on his face. “Wow, you guys are looking good!” he says cheerily. “And I love what you did to the barn!”

“Aww! I know,” she replies, regaining her grin as she glances between him and Lapis. “But wait, wait! You guys have to see the inside!”

And with this declaration, a few magical minutes pass wherein the two of them receive the highest honor of enjoying the Official Barn Grand Tour, presented by the very artists themselves. In a word, it’s a transformative experience. The outside looks amazing, yes, but in his wholehearted opinion the personal touches on the interior decor raises the place’s coziness to the next level. Over the past few weeks, Peridot and Lapis have spent their efforts transforming all the mementos and broken scraps of their lives into art, (or ‘meep-morp,’ as Lapis calls it), displaying the pieces all throughout their shared home. Peridot’s broken audio recorder now rests peacefully on a stand, a sky blue ribbon tied around the fractures at its middle. Touchingly, he learns that Lapis kept the leaf he gave her, delicately propping it upright in a clump of soil. A TV affixed to the ceiling beams with metal cables plays a clip of CPH on repeat. He has a niggling suspicion that the clip she selected represents her lingering trauma about, like... being trapped in a mirror for thousands of years, but according to her it’s merely a fan’s shrine of the show. Still, while discussing books together Connie once told him that all art is subjective and authorial intent is dead, so respectfully he’s sticking to his interpretation. But regardless of its meaning, he’s so, so happy to see her freely making things for herself.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the creative spectrum, Peridot’s green alien plush is floating alongside various hunks of garbage in the hodgepodge aquarium at the side wall. Its slow voyage through the tank is admittedly entrancing, but oh, do those big deep eyes grow more and more unnerving the longer he stares at them. The last straw comes when he watches stuffing slowly drift out of a gaping hole in the fabric at its neck. Subtly cringing, he takes a step back from the glass to go admire something else. Sometimes art isn’t made for everyone, and that’s okay.

It takes a few moments before he makes the proper connections and realizes that the red bow tie Peridot is wearing around her neck used to be that plush’s. Oh… oh geez.

Amethyst, however, doesn’t seem to be buying any of it. In fact, she’s barely cracked a smile since they entered the barn, not even at Peridot and Lapis’ collaborative toilet morp. And who doesn’t laugh at toilets? On any normal day she’d eat that kind of stuff right up.

“This is so stupid,” she mutters, her eyes thin slits as she stares with a frustratingly unreadable expression at the four liquid pillars shooting up out of the bowls.

Disappointment flickers across Lapis’ face like stars on the morning horizon. She quickly releases her iron hold on the water, channeling it into the heart of the tanks. A similar emotion colors Peridot’s features for a moment, and he briefly worries their visit may be cut off short, but after meeting his encouraging glance she shakes it off and promptly begins to move on to the next item of their home tour.

“Alright,” she says, folding her hands behind her back all prim and proper, “I see you're not impressed. But—“

“Hey, you guys!” a familiar voice shouts from the distance, growing closer and closer with each passing moment. “I’m here! I came! Is it too late to join in?”

All four of them whirl around at the interruption.

Peridot squints. “Is that…”

“Ruby?” Lapis finishes, confusion etched across her features with pinpoint precision.

“Ruby!” Steven calls, sliding across the floorboards to meet her at the barn door. “No, you're not late, you’re just in time! Look, look, look—“ He takes her by the hand and whisks her inside, almost sweeping her clear off her feet in the process.

Her mouth falls agape as she drinks in the rustic atmosphere, the air now a good deal lighter thanks to her interruption.

“Whoa… this place looks completely different!”

“I know, right??” he says with an untamable grin. He gestures wildly at all of their unique creations. “It’s art! Isn’t it great? Peridot and Lapis have been showing us all this super cool stuff they’ve made!”

“Yes, I suppose we are pretty great,” the green Gem says, puffing out her chest.

Lapis rolls her eyes in response. No amount of sass can hide the action’s underlying fondness, though. Steven’s no imperceptive fool. She may act pretty aloof at times, but once you get to know her she’s not that hard to read at all. One merely has to pay attention to the subtle shifts in her demeanor. It’s the little things: the incline of her brow, a slight tilt of the head, the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it twitch of her lips as she pretends she doesn’t care as much as she does. And then, the more she trusts you, the less tense her posture is and the more she opens up. It makes his heart sing to know that Peridot has seemingly been added to that roster.

“Eh,” she murmurs with the hint of a smile, leaning back against the wall behind her roommate. “I guess we’re okay.”

Amethyst crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing as she peers down at Ruby. “So, what’s up with you? I thought you said you wanted to mope at the temple.”

She shuffles her feet. “Well…”

“And I thought you and that Sapphire never unfused,” Lapis says, ever so blunt. “Except... for baseball,” she hastily amends. Consumed by a spike of panic, her gaze darts towards the doorway with guarded suspicion. “We don’t have to play baseball again... right?”

“Hmmm… I mean, we could play baseball,” Steven muses, pressing his hand to his jaw.

That’s certainly one way he could encourage Amethyst to enjoy some bonding time with everyone. He has a bunch of fond memories of the last game they played together. Well, okay, so maybe he could’ve done without the ceaseless feeling of dread brought by batting against Homeworld loyalists with unknown intentions, but beggars can’t be choosers. As his first time playing a full game it was still 70% a good time.

Meanwhile, Peridot’s petite frame quivers at the reminder of that day. She grips at her hair, large tufts of yellow poking out from between her fingers.

“Oh my stars, they’re coming back??”

Ruby throws her a bemused side glance. “Uh—“

“Get behind me, Lapis,” she continues, daringly throwing her body in front of her roommate. “I’ll protect us from those Homeworld brutes this time!”

“We’re not playing baseball!” Amethyst cuts in.

His lips curl into a pout. “Aw, but it’d be so much fun!”

She crosses her arms, visibly walling herself off. “Uh, no, it wouldn’t! ‘Sides, there’s no immediate danger, there’s no Homeworld Rubies on our doorstep, so there’s NO reason on this planet I’d play that stupid game again!”

Eyes narrowing with mild exasperation, Lapis nudges her way out from the green Gem’s overprotection. “‘Kay. So, is anyone here actually gonna explain what’s going on, or?”

Nervously rocking on her heels next to him, Ruby rests her hand against her chin.

“Well…”

“Ruby and Sapphire are kinda… taking some time apart?” he delicately explains in her steed, noticing her hesitation. It’s probably something that’s really hard for her to talk about right now, and boy can he relate to that.

“Yeah,” she says in confirmation, kicking her toes against the floor boards. “I didn’t exactly want to, but Sapphy needs her space.”

For all her initial dislike of the fusion Gem, Peridot looks genuinely heartbroken at this revelation. “But… why?” she asks, peering between the three Crystal Gems in wait of further clarification. “Aren’t you two basically inseparable?”

Faint hints of lemon peel and nutmeg linger in the air like silent sentries to their distress. Steven stands in the kitchen with Pearl, Garnet, and his dad, Amethyst lounging on the other side of the counter, and their dirty breakfast dishes still lying stagnant in the sink. Garnet’s kneeling before him. She’s speaking, but he’s so distraught he can’t quite recall what it is she said. His dad’s hand rests on his shoulder, the pressure ever so slightly working to ground him to this moment again. He’s biting back tears, isn’t he? Trying not to cry for the umpteenth time that day. What happened? What changed? Everything’s fixed, yeah? He’s whole again! They were all supposed to be so happy now, and yet… the sight of the morning sun reflecting off the face of Garnet’s visor as she delivers that ill-fated news is the bitter, tangible proof that they’re not.

“Ruby and Sapphire have decided they want to take some time apart. Indefinitely.”

Amethyst’s expression is colored with hurt. “But… why?”

In the present he stiffens, suddenly polarized by the realization that the path of this conversation has but one destined endpoint. Sooner or later, his friends will hear about what happened to him four days back, what happened to his family, what he learned about his... about Rose. There’s no avoiding this forever. After all, if they don’t learn it from him, they’ll eventually learn it from someone else. And don’t they deserve to know? This affects them too!

But if the recent past has taught him anything, it’s that the truth about Rose Quartz only succeeds in breaking people apart. It stole Garnet away. It shook his relationship with Amethyst and Pearl to the core. It caused them all to argue and fight, back at the fountain and at home. Give it time, and he’s sure the truth will find a way to press fissures in his relationships with Connie and Dad, too. So what happens, then, when Peridot and Lapis find out? In what way will the truth break them?

Just a little while longer, he promises himself. Just one more good day, please, that’s all I want…

“They, um- it’s just a couples thing,” he stammers, chest growing tight. “It’s just for a little bit. Sometimes people need time away from each other, y’know?”

Ruby‘s expression grows tense, sniffing out his white lie from a mile away. “Steven...“

“It’s totally healthy and normal, and not at all a reason for concern!”

“Kinda sounds like we should be concerned,” Lapis mutters. “All of you have been acting weird this whole time, so spill! What’s going on?”

Their words start to become faint and distant in the shadow of his wildly pounding heart, so wondrously human and organic and alive, and yet so endlessly frustrating in its autonomy. Why can’t he hear clearly? What’s up with that awful ringing he can’t get rid of? It’s almost as if he’s listening to everyone ten feet under choppy waters, but they’re all standing right next to him. They’re right there.

The red Gem scratches at her neck, meeting Amethyst's harsh, crystal-studded glance first. Her mouth opens. Still disorientated, Steven misses a good half of it.

“...wants to tell ‘em?” she finishes, waiting dutifully for their responses.

As expected the quartz remains silent on the matter, feigning indifference as she crosses her arms and returns to staring sullenly into the middle distance. Ruby turns to him next. His skin feels downright clammy now, almost as bad as it did when he was almost dyi— NO! Stop! He shakes his head fervently, sweeping his hands horizontal in a signal for her to cut the conversation. He can’t do this. Not now, not today, not ever, he can’t—

Lapis bristles. “Tell us what?”

“Um, nothing, nothing!” he bursts out, clumsy words pouring from his mouth almost quicker than his brain can move to stack them up. “It’s a long story, and we’re all here to have some fun and shoot the breeze, right? Right. ‘Course we are! So we don’t have to talk about that right now, we can talk about it later, and for now we should try to have a good time and enjoy each other’s compa—“

Amethyst slams her foot to the floor so hard the wooden board underneath cracks. Both Steven and Lapis flinch.

“Ughh, you guys! Stop dancing around the headline!” she shouts. “You really wanna know what happened? Steven almost died ‘cause he got his gem busted, and then we found out Rose Quartz was totally a sham and she’s like, Pink Diamond n’ junk, okay?!”

A stunning silence follows this inopportune announcement, in which he swears he can hear his stomach gurgle. On any typical day he'd be thinking about lunch around this time, except at the moment he genuinely almost feels sick to his stomach. Right now he wants nothing more than to turn tail and run, run away from all of this, and yet chained to his fate just as Lonely Blade was destined to his, his legs remain firmly shackled in place. Standing at his side, Peridot blinks in dumbfounded shock.

“What.”

“S-she’s- You’re a DIAMOND??” Lapis shrieks, water wings shooting from her back on impulse.

“Whaaaat?”

_______

Notes:

The next few chapters will be a bit familiar to y'all, but I'm not doing a beat for beat rehash, I assure you. Events start similarly here because the world external to Steven’s sphere of influence is still operating the same as it does in canon. The ripples haven’t fully spread yet. After this arc, they absolutely will have.

I do have a bonus scene to share soon- set between chapters 9 and 10. I'll likely post that before chapter 11.

Oh, and by the way- the location Connie's visiting is inspired by a real place- the Harike Wetlands in Punjab, India. Apparently India is actually a series of islands in the SU universe...? But I like to believe there’s still a cool wetlands region on one of those islands.

#su #steven universe #amethyst #su fanfiction #su fanfic #ruby #lapis lazuli #peridot #crack the paragon #my writing stuff

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roseskiesandbutterflies · 4 years

Text

Pain Is So Close To Pleasure (Platonic!Reader x Modern!Queen)

Summary: As a recently promoted Soloist for the Royal Ballet, you move closer to Covent Garden with your four-year-old daughter, Rose. But your new neighbour turns out to be the last person you'd expect to pop up on your doorstep.

A/N: Fun fact, there is a woman called Elizabeth Harrod who is a soloist for the Royal Ballet, has a 4-year-old child and once played the character mentioned. All by coincidence. And she is married to Steven McRae who was the inspiration for the fic I was hugely inspired by. Fun times guys. I used to dance ballet once or twice a week for about 5 years but stopped 4 years ago. And I may or may not be regretting my decision to quit. Oh well. I really hope you liked this, do leave feedback if you don't mind and perhaps a like or even a reblog? I have at least 3 more ideas for this but if you think of anything then please please please let me know! Stay hydrated kiddos!

Warning(s): swearing, mentioned arguments, crying, mentioned nightmares, reader is female btw

Inspiration: Brian May’s instagram, Incandescent by @immistermercury on AO3, Modern Times Rock N Roll by @rhapso-kei on Tumblr and AO3, Outed by @platawnic on Tumblr

Word Count: 7.2k+ (it’s a big boi lads)

Taglist: @bhmay @briarrose26 @bijoukitty

Ask to be on my taglist if you want!

Never in a million years had you ever expected moving to a new house to be this fun. For it was only carrying boxes into the house repeatedly for hours at a time. Right?

Wrong!

It turned out that the opportunities for games increased tenfold when you have a child. The child in question had barely even stepped out of the van when she suggested that you compete against each other to see who could carry the most boxes into your new house. Given that you had actual professionals lifting the heavy stuff – chairs, tables and so forth – racing would actually speed things up with getting the smaller boxes in the house.

Small footsteps increased in volume before a similarly small voice asked, “What next, Mummy?”

You looked up at you daughter from where you were awkwardly crouched inside the delivery van, shockingly ungraceful for a ballerina, just for one moment amidst all of the chaos that came with moving to a new house. All wrapped up in her khaki green coat, her nose and cheeks were tinted with the pink of harsh January mornings. Her eyes were the same colour as yours, the most beautiful shade of (Y/E/C), and were always alive with excitement; today was no exception. She was almost the perfect likeness to you: the same skin, the same nose, the same lips. Her hair was more like that of her father’s, but she was beautiful all the same, and more importantly your precious girl.

You dragged yourself out of your daydream and passed a relatively small stack of books to Rose, “You got it?” you asked uncertainly, images of newly-ruined books spilt over the floor flashing through your mind for a second.

“Yup!” she was already running into the house and up the stairs by then and you chuckled despite yourself. You dragged a transparent plastic box from the back of the van to where you had now positioned yourself. This one was full to the brim of dead pointe shoes, each pair decorated with paints and lace and beads and whatever you had in the house at the time; one even had uncooked pasta stuck to it. You were sure that you were going to find more boxes like these considering how many pairs you had worn over the years.

It had become a sort of tradition for you, to decorate each pair of pointe shoes once they died, never quite being able to let go of them. You wrote their date of ‘birth’ – when you wore them for the first time - and their date of ‘death’ – the day they finally broke – on the sole of each shoe in gold paint and a fine brush. Often, they were the same date, which was evidence of how hard you worked. You liked to decorate the wings and the vamp using a random theme, usually shows you had performed. The ones you had oh-so-carefully picked up however was Tangled-themed, chosen by Rose when you had had a lack of inspiration. You placed it back down and swapped it for another, this time a Swan Lake pair. You smiled to yourself at the memories attached to that particular pair; it had been your first ever professional show, when you were still in the Royal Ballet School and the company had merged with the school for the first time since your arrival. You looked at the dates on the soles and almost gasped despite yourself.

16.12.2012 ~ 23.12.2012

Just over 5 years ago.

Those shoes were almost an entire year older than Rose. You couldn’t quite believe that you had been involved with the Royal for so long. It felt like mere days, weeks at the most. The only thing convincing you otherwise was the sheer number of shoes in the box and the combined weight of them all, seen as you went through upwards of 100 pairs every season. Fortunately, ballet wasn’t just turns, leaps, plies and wearing gorgeous costumes, it required a great deal of strength so carrying the box into the house was hardly a problem.

From a stranger’s glance, your new home appeared to be a house, Georgian with bricks the colour of coffee, immaculately painted and symmetrical to every other house in the immediate vicinity. But this was London, more importantly this was central London, and that meant you’d have to be a multi-millionaire in order to afford an actual house. It also meant that the whole block was once something that could only be described as a miniature mansion, and had been split up into houses and now, several flats. One of which you were now the proud owner.

You had spent a long time saving up for this flat; you had needed more space for you and your daughter for a while now and you had been long overdue a change from that studio flat in Camden. So, when this flat came up for sale, you felt as if all of your prayers had been answered. Compared to your previous home, this one had buckets of space, you had a bedroom each for a start. It was a mere twenty-minute walk to the Royal Opera House, making it so much easier when you had late performances or overrunning rehearsals. Or when you accidentally forgot your leg warmers or spare pointe shoes, incidents that happened more often than you would like.

You climbed the staircase to your first-floor flat; you supposed that that would take some getting used to, especially after long days of back-to-back classes, rehearsals and shows. You pretty much dumped the box of pointe shoes on the floor of the living room and turned around to leave only to have Rose collide straight into you.

“Sorry, Mummy!” she giggled, as sweet as ever, and blew you a kiss as a form of apology.

“That’s alright, darling, it was only an accident,” you blew her a kiss back, “Now, where did you put your books?”

She grabbed your hand and tugged you incessantly to your bedroom, “Look!” she pointed proudly to the stack of books on your bed, which looked as if it could collapse at a moment’s notice, but a stack, nonetheless.

Your heart broke slightly when you realised: she still thought you had to share a room. You crouched down to be eye-level with her, “Rose, why don’t you put them in your room, instead? They’re your books, sweetie, not mine.”

“But they are in my room,” she frowned, head cocked to the side in confusion.

“No, this is Mummy’s room. Your room is next door,” it was your turn to lead her into her own bedroom, a tad more gently than how she’d done it, and her eyes opened wide with wonder.

“I can have my own room?” her voice filled with disbelief and your heart ached terribly.

“Of course, princess. This flat is much, much bigger than our old one.”

She squealed with excitement and threw her arms around you, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”, before running off to grab her picture books. You stood up, shaking your head with a chuckle before returning to the van. You grabbed another box, this one stuffed with Rose’s toys, “Rose! Can you come and bring this one in?”

She catapulted down the stairs, forever a tiny hurricane, and snatched the box out of your hands. You made your way to the front door with another box in your arms for about the hundredth time that day but stopped dead in your tracks in the middle of the pavement.

Rose was wandering down the street, box of toys long forgotten and left on the stairs, heading straight for the busy road perpendicular to your own. You dropped your own box on the pavement and broke out into a full-on sprint to stop her, heart pounding with fear. She was reaching the end of the pavement, completely oblivious to the cars speeding along to her right, and to the car that was indicating to turn left. For a fleeting second you thought the reckless driver was going to hit her, when a man suddenly ran out f the pharmacy at the end of the road and swept her up into his arms. You scowled, endlessly grateful that she hadn’t been hurt, but more than slightly annoyed that a complete stranger had the audacity to pick up your precious girl. Your maternal instincts went into overdrive and, once you reached them, you snatched Rose back from the man.

“Get your hands off my child,” you glared at him. Now you could get a far better look at him, you could tell he definitely wasn’t young, his white hair and beard gave that away instantly. His eyes were masked by sunglasses, confusing you slightly; it may have been sunny that day, but it was only January. Something about him was strangely familiar to you, it was hard to describe but you were sure you recognised the overall aura he had about him. You shook off the thought for now, you could ponder over it long after Rose had gone to bed and you finally had some time to yourself. Speaking of Rose, you shifted your focus to her; she seemed unharmed, if a little shaken up. You placed her on your hip and she instinctively tucked her head into the crook of your neck and looked at the man curiously.

“Well, I did just save her life, you could at least say thank you,” the stranger muttered, his voice gruff but somehow light.

Your gut dropped; you recognised that voice. You tried to convince yourself otherwise, but that voice was way too unique to be anyone else’s. He must have seen the cogs turn in your head for he smirked slightly.

Internally, you were freaking the fuck out because holy shit you think you just met Roger fucking Taylor, but externally, you attempted to keep your composure because it didn’t matter who he was, he still grabbed your daughter and he was crazy if he thought you were going to let that slide.

You were frantically trying to think of something, anything, to you say when Rose felt the need to come to your rescue, “Are you Santa?”. When no one said anything because you were both, quite frankly, too stunned to reply, her excitement just grew, “Mummy, look, it’s Santa! Santa saved me!” she turned to look at him and put on her sweetest voice, “Thank you, Santa!”

He sighed, knowing full well he was about to break this poor girl’s heart, and said, “No, I’m not Santa, he lives a long way away.”

She pouted before finding something else that entertained her, “Why are you wearing sunglasses?” she giggled, holding out a hand to try and rip them off of his face and nearly falling out of your arms in the process. You placed her back on the pavement, just to be on the safe side.

He reluctantly took them off and gave them to her, and she grasped them excitedly. She tried to put the sunglasses on, but they were far too big for her, so they just kept sliding off, amusing her to no end.

You forced yourself to look at the man, now you were definitely sure it was Roger and fucking hell you hadn’t expected your day to go anything like the way it had. He raised an eyebrow and you only just clocked that he was still waiting for a reply. “Thank you for stopping her,” you said somewhat sheepishly; now you’d had the chance to think over what he’d actually done, you felt a little guilty for berating him like that. You’d naturally assumed he meant to cause harm somehow, but if he had had such intentions then surely, he wouldn’t have waited for you. He could have run off with Rose, but he didn’t. Naturally, you were still a little wary but while Rose had been interrogating the man over whether or not he was in fact Father Christmas, you had come to the conclusion that he was probably harmless.

*********************

By around lunchtime you had actually carried in everything that you could, so you’d decided that the rest of the day could be a well-earned lazy day. As you expected, Rose had had no objection to that whatsoever, seen as lazy days more often than not meant Disney marathons. You were making a light lunch, knowing that you’d need to save room for sheer amount of popcorn you’d bought from the corner shop, while Rose was picking out a film to start with.

“Mummy, I got one!” she called as you brought your sandwiches into the living room. She was sat by the TV, surrounded by DVDs with one in her hand. She squinted hard at the blurb of the DVD she was holding, as if she was trying to read it, which made you chuckle to yourself. “What are you laughing at?” she looked at you quizzically.

You shook your head slightly, not wanting to burst her little bubble, “Nothing, sweetheart. Which one did you choose?”

She stood up wobbly, coming incredibly close to falling right back down again but only just regaining her balance, “Zootropolis!” she had to say the word very slowly; the word was very hard to say for a four-year-old, even you struggled with it sometimes.

Zootropolis was one of her favourites at the moment, second only to Tangled, so you weren’t all that surprised by her choice. This would have been the fourth or fifth time watching it so far that month alone, and you were only about halfway through January. The joys of having a child, you thought wryly to yourself. Not that you’d ever complain to Rose. Besides, you’d much rather Zootropolis to Frozen, which you didn’t think you could ever watch again after being subjected to hearing Let It Go every day for weeks and then much longer in your head.

“Ah, good choice,” you said as she thrust the DVD in front of your face. You put the sandwiches down on the coffee table and took the DVD from her, “Why don’t you go and get a couple of your toys to watch the film with us while I set it up? Maybe you could get Nick and Judy.”

Her eyes positively lit up at the idea and she raced off to find them. You’d gone to Oxford Street just before Christmas to see all the lights and Christmas decorations, which then turned into going to the Disney store, which led into incessant begging from Rose to get one of the Zootropolis plushies. You’d ended up compromising, meaning she could get two of her choice, but she couldn’t play with them until Christmas. So now, any excuse to play with them was a good excuse and was guaranteed to keep her entertained for hours on end.

You had just put the disc in the TV when you heard the buzz signalling that someone was at the door. You were a little puzzled; you’d only just moved into this flat, how on earth did someone already have your address? You made your way to the door and held the button on the receiver, allowing you to talk to whoever was there, “Hello?”

“Hi, is this (Y/N)?” an unfamiliar female voice asked, only adding to your confusion.

“Yeah, who’s asking?”

“Well, my name’s Sarina, I think you met my husband this morning?”

A few minutes later, Sarina and Roger were sitting on your sofa with a cup of tea each, with you on the one-seater in front of the window, rhythmically pointing and relaxing your toes, a habit from dancing ballet pretty much every day for about fifteen years. It was around then when you started thinking about how weird this day was turning out to be. First, Roger Taylor saves your daughter’s life, then you give him your address even though you were sure you had no memory of that, and then him and his wife turn up to your flat for no apparent reason other than to have a chat.

You heard Rose’s obnoxiously loud footsteps run down the corridor and once she got to the living room, she stopped dead in her tracks. She had her arms full with soft toys but dropped them all when she noticed your visitors, “Mummy, look it’s not-really-Santa!” she pointed, face lit up with glee at meeting her saviour once again. Then she noticed Sarina and pouted with confusion, “Who are you? Are you not-really-Mrs-Claus?”

“Darling, we told you he’s not actually Santa,” you lightly chastised her.

Rose just looked at you as if she was trying to be patronising, “I know, that’s why I said, ‘not really’!”

Sarina only laughed and said, “My name’s Sarina, I’m Roger’s wife.”

Rose just looked even more baffled than before, “Roger? Who’s Roger?”

Roger waved awkwardly, having not said anything the whole time he’d been there.

A quiet ‘ohhhh’ came from Rose, but her attention quickly returned to her dropped toys, which she promptly rescued from the floor and popped onto your lap. You raised an eyebrow at the pile and looked back at your daughter, “That’s quite a few toys, darling.”

Rose grinned cheekily, “Well, I got Judy and Nick because they’re in the movie but then I thought that my other animals would be sad that I left them out so I got Dumbo, Minnie and Mushu and then I got Rapunzel because she’s my favourite and she loves Pascal and he’s a chame-,” she stopped, understandably struggling with the word.

“Chameleon,” you whispered to try and help her out.

“Yeah, that,” she giggled, not even trying to say it. You put it down to having new people over who she wanted to impress so you made a mental note to help her with it later on.

You turned back to your guests, forgetting momentarily that they were even there, something which you often did while talking to Rose, “Sorry, we were just about to watch Zootropolis as a sort of ‘well done’ for moving all of our stuff inside in one morning.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt or anything, we just wanted to, well, welcome you to the neighbourhood, I guess. We live just down the road from here,” Sarina justified, and suddenly their surprise visit made so much more sense. You were infinitely grateful as even though it wasn’t like you had no friends at all who lived in London, it couldn’t hurt to have some close by.

“No, don’t apologise, it’s really sweet of you both, thank you so much,” you smiled at them both.

Roger then decided to speak up for the first time since he got there, and you were still wondering why he was being so shy, “Listen, is there anything we can do to help you out at all? I know moving house can be a pretty big deal so if we can help you with anything then do say.”

Your instant thought was to say that you were fine, that you’d be able to manage. You weren’t one to ask for help unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, it was difficult for you. But once you considered it for a moment, you remembered that you had a full day of classes and rehearsals tomorrow, Rose didn’t start at her new pre-school until next week and you hadn’t booked a childminder or a babysitter. You looked at the couple on your sofa, kind and eager to help, and finally opened your mouth to speak, “I have work tomorrow. Is there any chance you could look after Rose for the day?”

******************

“I promise I’ve almost got it; I just need to get the footing right after the grand jete,” you reached for your water bottle, “I’m not sure why I can’t land properly.”

“I think it’s because you’re making the chaines more aggressive than they need to be. If you take a gentler approach, then you can put more energy into how you jump and then how you land,” Samantha, the ballet mistress of the company, suggested.

You pulled your fuchsia leg warmers right up to the tops of your legs and tried again, this time taking Samantha’s advice. You landed perfectly flat on your right foot, unfolding straight away and placing your arms in fourth on impulse. You pointed your index fingers as part of your character’s variation which, as it differed from the traditional ballet hand, still took some getting used to.

The Sleeping Beauty would be your first performance since being promoted to a Soloist, and you had received the role of the Fairy of The Golden Vine, meaning you had your own solo in the prologue. You obviously wanted to do really well, you wanted to prove to both the audience and to the other dancers that you deserved the role and the position in the company, despite the little gremlin back at home who was also known as your daughter.

You absolutely adored the name you had chosen for your angel. Rose. The flower thrown onto the stage at the end of a performance which more often than not ended up in a vase on the kitchen windowsill. The colour of the leotard you rehearsed in. The rose-coloured glasses that all children wore at some point in their young lives when they were oblivious and innocent. The colour of optimism, love, joy. The word rose, in and of itself, had so many positive connotations for you, which was exactly what you had needed when you had been expecting her.

Samantha broke you free from your daydream, “Well, we have about half an hour left, is there anything else you wanted to look at before the show tomorrow night?”

It still had yet to sink in for you that the first of eight performances was tomorrow. You hadn’t given it much thought because you didn’t want it to stress you out. Especially when you had other things to worry about, like polishing your part in Act III. Which reminded you, “Could we go over the wedding scene?” you asked sheepishly.

********************

You lightly knocked on the door, looking at your phone yet again to check the address. You rubbed your hands together to fight the bitter cold of winter evenings, suddenly regretting not wearing gloves. A forget-me-not blue sky hung overhead, already getting dark even though it wasn’t even five o’clock yet. The pristine door in front of you opened after a few seconds of waiting, but what you were not expecting, however, was for Dr Brian May, guitarist for Queen, arguably the best in the world, astrophysicist and animal rights activist, to answer the door with pen all over his face, “Ah, hello, you must be (Y/N).”

“Err, yeah, hi,” you nervously chuckled, a little starstruck at the man in front of you.

“Mummy?” a small, uncertain called out, soon accompanied by an awfully familiar face peeking out through the doorway to the living room.

“Hello, sweetheart,” you crouched down to be eye level with Rose, holding out your arms as an invitation for a hug.

“Mummy!” she quite literally took it with open arms and the brightest smile you had ever seen plastered on her face.

“Did you have a nice time, princess?” you asked between soft kisses pressed to her head.

This launched her into a fit of giggles and she only just managed to gasp out, “I’m not the princess, Roger’s the princess!”

You stood up with Rose sitting comfortably on your hip, “Is he now? Then who are you?” you bopped her nose with each of the last three words.

Of course, more light-hearted laughter ensued, “I’m the queen! And Brian’s the royal ad-” she stumbled on the last word and pouted, only for the man in question to whisper something in her ear and for her to shout, “Advisor! And Brian’s the royal advisor! Can I show you the kingdom?”

You set her down on the floor carefully and curtseyed like you would at the end of a show, “Lead the way, your most royal highness!” You exchanged a curious glance with Brian and followed your now running daughter into the living room.

To the ordinary person, the living room would appear to be in a state of total and utter chaos. Dining room chairs held up bedsheets, forming a makeshift tent in the centre of the room. Pillows were scattered around the fort, along with seemingly ancient colouring books, with pages the colour of buttermilk, washable pens and sweet wrappers that had yet to be picked up.

Rose dived in, luckily into Roger’s arms rather than the wooden floor. He swept her up into the air, the girl squealing with excitement, before returning her safely to the ground. “Roggie, you’re silly!” she smiled sweetly at him, making his face flood with the red of embarrassment.

“Roggie?” you laughed at his expression and sat down on the other side of Rose, sandwiching her between you and Roger. You were secretly loving how much humiliation could be brought on by a four-year-old child.

Roger looked desperate to salvage whatever was left of his dignity, “Well at least it’s not as bad as ‘Bri Bri’!”

Brian just scratched his head awkwardly and took a seat opposite you all, “I thought it was cute.”

You just chuckled at the state of them both; usually it was you who felt like that, more often than not it was when you brought Rose to work with you, so you found it rather amusing to have someone else on the receiving end of your daughter’s jokes.

Brian cleared his throat, clearly wanting to change the subject as soon as possible, “Mind if I take a picture? You guys look pretty cute in there.”

“By all means,” you agreed, knowing that you had to get a picture too. You were almost guaranteed to tell your friends about this later and they wouldn’t believe you without some kind of proof.

He pulled his phone out of his trouser pocket and quickly snapped a photo of you all in your rather adorable tent. He put his glasses on to examine the image and, with a satisfied nod, leaned over to show it to you, “I’d put it on Instagram but with Rose’s age…”

“Well, I don’t have a problem with it,” you said. It was such a sweet photo, you thought it would be a shame to not share it with people, though you figured that might be the performer in you speaking. It was the nature of the job; the performing arts were, at their core, just complex forms of storytelling. You turned to Rose, deciding that she should have a say on the matter, “Darling, would you be alright if Brian put that picture of us on Instagram? A lot of people would see it,” you warned.

She just beamed up at you, “Yeah because then lots of people can see the kingdom I made with Roggie and Bri Bri!”

You just laughed at her and pulled her into a hug while Brian posted the photo onto his account. You froze when your phone vibrated mere seconds later. It’s fine. You could just play it off. Maybe a friend texted you or-

“Mummy, look, your phone lit up!” a girl with sweet and innocent intentions somehow managed to flood you with embarrassment and suddenly you felt bad for laughing at Roger and Brian earlier.

Fuck.

You looked at her with the fakest possible smile and said, “Thank you, darling.”

“Is somebody a fan, then?” Roger taunted, not helping the situation whatsoever and instead making you want to throw your phone out of the nearest window and then you along with it.

Of course you were a bloody fan, why else would you get a notification when Brian posted on Instagram? “You see, it’s a long story, I err, just got, um, a text from one of my friends about the show tomorrow?” It came out as more of a question than an answer.

Brian and Roger exchanged a knowing look before muttering to themselves that you were ‘definitely a fan’ and ‘who do you think you’re kidding’.

To hide yourself as much as humanly possible, you decided to open the app and check the post. It turned out that you weren’t the only one who had the post-notifications turned on. Other fans were already beginning to shower it with likes and comments, and you were intrigued as to what people were saying.

Who is the little girl?? She’s so cute 💖💖

Yes we stan Bri and Rog being grandads

Is it me or does she look like that dancer from the Royal?

How someone had worked out that last one, you would never know.

Brian, being the saint that he was, decided to save you from your shame, “Rose mentioned that you’re a ballet dancer,” he smiled, finally starting to clear up the mess of wrappers and pens.

“Did she now?” you asked playfully, bopping her nose much to her delight before helping Brian out.

“You any good?” Roger asked.

“Well, I’d hope so seen as it’s my job,” you joked.

Roger’s brows furrowed instantly, “Wait, it’s your job?”

You nodded, giggling slightly, “Yeah, I’ve danced professionally for about 5 years-”

“Mummy, that’s older than me!” Rose interrupted, mouth open in bewilderment.

“Yes, sweetheart, that is older than you, but remember to wait for your turn to speak, OK?” you reminded her. You’d been working on that for a little while and she was mostly getting the hang of it, although she slipped up every now and then as you’d expect from a four-year-old.

“Sorry, Mummy,” she apologised in a singsong voice.

“Thank you, my darling,” you kissed her head and pulled her in for a hug, “Anyway, I dance with the Royal Ballet down in Covent Garden. I just got promoted to a Soloist so I’m starting to get better roles than I was before.”

“So, what have you been doing today?” Brian asked, eyes bright with the same curiosity you saw in Rose from time to time.

“Well, I had my warm-up class at nine, then my technical one at eleven. I’d usually have another class or physio but we’re opening The Sleeping Beauty tonight, so I was in rehearsals for that all afternoon. Oh, and we had a final costume fitting just after lunch,” you counted them on your fingers, smiling bashfully when you were met with looks of bewilderment and awe.

“And you’ve got to do a whole performance too?” Roger asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I mean technically I should still be at the Opera House to eat my dinner but I had to come and get this little munchkin first,” you tickled Rose, her adorable giggles filling the room.

When you finally showed her mercy and ceased the tickles, she said, “I get to watch Mummy dance from the side!”

You quickly filled Roger and Brian in when they shot you looks of confusion, “She means the wings. I can’t afford to hire a babysitter for every performance I do so she gets to watch for free. Besides, she loves it, sometimes we dance together backstage when I’m not needed seen as the music’s loud enough.”

“Forgive me for asking,” Brian began warily, and you were already dreading the question that was sure to follow, “But why isn’t there anyone else to babysit her for the evening?”

Ah, the wonderful question that was asked of you nearly every time you met someone. You quickly shot him a look of not in front of Rose, and thank God he understood, for he nodded and sent you a smile as an apology. You turned Rose around so she was facing you instead of leaning against your front and said, “Darling, we have to go in a minute so why don’t you run and grab your toys, OK?”

She jumped up and ran off, hopefully to find her belongings, always oblivious and you hoped she’d stay that way for quite some time.

You took a deep breath and finally answered Brian’s question, “Rose’s father and I split up when she was two, and none of my family live in London,” you shrugged; Rose’s dad was still a bit of a touchy subject. Understanding washed over the both of them immediately, and suddenly you remembered they had both gone through the same thing.

Brian quickly changed the subject yet again, somehow sensing that you weren’t feeling all too comfortable, “Do you think we could come and watch one of your shows? We could bring Rose with us and that way you won’t have to worry about her being backstage.”

“That’s so sweet of you, thank you. I don’t think I can get you tickets for tonight but I probably can for tomorrow if that’s alright?” you smiled at his enthusiasm, especially considering you had only known him for about twenty minutes at the most. Roger didn’t seem as excited, though you were expecting that because, if you remembered correctly, he wasn’t a huge fan of musical theatre and ballet wasn’t far from that.

*********************

It was around one o’clock in the morning and even though you were yawning what felt like every ten seconds, you somehow found yourself sitting on your bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You knew that you should be settling down, Rose had gone to bed about an hour ago and you normally followed not long after, but you weren’t quite ready yet. With every passing minute, you would be feeling even more regret tomorrow, but it felt as though something was physically stopping you from sleeping.

“Mama?” a small, tired voice called from the doorway. You never closed your bedroom door all the way for this exact reason. Rose shyly tottered into the room, dragging her blanket on the floor behind her and hugging her stuffed dragon toy with her other arm, “Mama?”

You placed your phone on a cardboard box full of things you had yet to unpack and gestured for her to climb into your bed, “What’s up, sweetness?” she clambered into your arms and you shuffled back to lean on the wall behind you. Her cheeks were damp against your shoulder and your heart leapt into your mouth, “Hey bubba, it’s OK, you’re OK, I’ve got you.”

Tiny sobs escaped her mouth and you rocked her gently, patiently waiting for her to calm down. Fortunately, it was only a matter of minutes before her crying ceased. You took this opportunity to gently approach the subject of what had caused all of this, “Did you have a nightmare, darling?”

She nodded, keeping her movements and voice as small as she could, as if someone was confining every part of her, “Daddy.”

You took a breath to ground yourself because fuck you didn’t want her to have to deal with your mistakes and said, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice, “What happened with Daddy?”

She rubbed her eye with a tiny hand and murmured, “You. Daddy. Loud.”

You tried to put the pieces together, assuming that you’d been arguing with him. This happened when she was scared, or sad, she would act like she was two instead of four, which restricted her language especially. You supposed acting younger was a comfort to her. When you’d split up with her father, you’d hoped to God that she was too young to remember any of the arguments she’d overheard. You and him had been a classic case of ‘settling down far too quickly’. Rose had been an accident and simultaneously the one to show that the both of you weren’t thinking any of it through at all. He’d walked out after the biggest fight that you’d had, and you were quite grateful for it, if you were honest.

“Me and Daddy didn’t get on very well, darling,” you explained, “You won’t ever see him again, I promise. And I won’t be loud like that, OK?” You felt her nod against your chest, and you could feel her settling down already, “Did you want to sleep in Mummy’s bed tonight?”

She perked up at your suggestion; sleeping in your bed was always a treat reserved for special occasions, and you despised the thought of making her go back to bed by herself. “Please, please, please, Mama? I like your bed, it’s soft and warm and snuggly.”

You responded by turning off your phone and the lamp on your bedside table, and tucking you both in, still cradling her against your chest like a baby. You wondered as she already began to drift off, if it had really been procrastination that had been stopping you from going to sleep earlier, or if it was just a mother’s instinct. Or if you were just thinking that to try and make yourself feel better about yourself.

**********************

Backstage was even more alive with excitement that evening. Someone had seen Brian and Roger in the foyer and word had quickly spread, though you hadn’t said a word on the subject to avoid the rush of inevitable questions. It would make the tabloid headlines by tomorrow morning; you could guarantee that.

The whirlwind rush of backstage never changed, and secretly you hoped it would always stay that way. It was absolute chaos, someone’s pointe shoes had gone soft, or someone’s lost a bit of their costume, or someone’s tights had ripped. It was strange compared to the scene of calm and serenity seen on stage; it was as if each dancer was put under a spell of some sort the moment they stepped out of the wings. While most would find the constant change of environments unnerving, you quite liked it, it kept you on your toes better than the pointe shoes on your feet.

It was a tad strange not having to chase after Rose every five seconds, tonight she was out in the audience for the first time ever. You’d never thought to take her to watch a ballet, she’d seen basically every show in the Royal’s repertoire from the wings, sometimes more enthralled by what went on behind the scenes than the dancing itself. She was forever trying to help anyone who needed it, usually it was looking over a costume or a hairstyle and pointing out anything that was out of place. It was one of the only times people were grateful for the brutal honesty that came with her youth. When she wasn’t doing that, she’d sit somewhere where she could watch the performance through the wings with a sticker book to keep her occupied during the ‘boring bits’, or she’d sleep on the sofa you’d asked Heather to put in place for exactly that reason.

You always felt guilty about making her stay awake so late, considering evening performances didn’t end until around eleven o’clock at night, meaning she wasn’t in bed until just before midnight. Luckily, it wasn’t most nights as you didn’t perform every night, and you had asked to not do as many evening performances as possible, making up for it by doing almost every matinees available. However, that didn’t stop your heart from breaking slightly every time you saw Rose yawn as a result of the lack of sleep. You just didn’t have any other options, until tonight that was. And in secret you were hoping that Brian and Roger would be able to help out again, though you’d never bring it up with them.

You shook yourself back to reality when Meaghan, the dancer in front of you, made her entrance, meaning you had to step forwards, ready for your own. The fairies had to line up in the wings and you were the last one to go on and dance your solo before the Lilac Fairy. You watched Meaghan dance, adrenaline coursing through your veins as it always would just before an entrance, and her beautifully danced solo was done in what felt like thirty seconds rather than two minutes. You took a deep breath and ran on when you heard your cue, plastering a smile on your face that was real for the most part.

You felt the music flood every corner of your mind. You didn’t even have to think about the steps you were dancing, letting muscle memory take control. You lost yourself in the beauty of the music, and in the beauty of yourself. You knew you looked like a real fairy, you sure felt like one, and you hoped that at least one child out there in the audience was watching you and thinking wow I want to be able to do that. You ran over in your head literally everything you knew about ballet, every little piece of advice you’d ever been given, something you probably should have done backstage but that didn’t matter because there you were. You were dancing on your own, all eyes on you, and you relished in the attention that you’d usually shy away from. If that is what it felt like every time you performed on your own, then fuck you were hungry for more. It was over in what felt like a heartbeat but also an eternity, and you ran over to your place further downstage.

Now you had the opportunity to pause for a moment, you took it to scan over the audience, though it was in pure vain as they were obscured by darkness. You supposed it helped dancers with stage fright, though you couldn’t help but wonder why you’d become a dancer if your stage fright was that bad. It was no longer a problem for you, but it had been helpful when you danced on that stage for the first time, especially considering you had only been a teenager when you first started performing with the Royal. You had to admit that you were trying to find Rose, Brian and Roger, knowing they were out there somewhere, watching with wonder in their eyes. You forced yourself to give up with that particular challenge; it was a rookie mistake to try to find loved ones in an audience. You just hoped they recognised you from wherever they were seated.

Elation just ran wild through your veins and you couldn’t stop the blush of pride filling your cheeks, not that you wanted to. This was the reason you danced, for the childlike joy that it brought you, the kind of glee that was the cause of each and every one of Rose’s giggles. It was pointe-shoe pink, it was ice cream on a hot day, it was a butterfly flying past you. It was ephemeral, blink and you’d miss it, but the hangover feeling of sheer bliss, that was the reason you danced.

You were hardly conventional, you knew that. A young single mother, a ballet dancer who had been promoted to a Soloist in her early twenties and living in London of all places. You were a ballet dancer, dancing to the melody of her own piano and to hell with anyone who said that you couldn’t.

#Brian May #brian may x reader #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #ballet #ballet au #modern queen #queen #queen x reader #royal ballet #the sleeping beauty #child character #brian may imagine #roger taylor imagine #queen imagine #london

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cravingmarvel · 4 years

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Bad Blood - Chapter Three: Thunderclouds

Pairing: Bucky Barnes AU x Fem!Reader

Warning: Just people being weird

Summary: A new job. A new city. A new love. Bucky Barnes is a wealthy lawyer and a hansom one on top of it. Responsible to keep his house clean, she can’t help but fall in love with him. But the house holds a few secrets inside, bad blood. What happens at the Barnes Mansion, stays at the Barnes Mansion

A/N: Whooo chapter three! Things are starting to kick off and out friends Gen and Hank aren’t looking too good! Have fun reading and remember: Please leave feedback and Reblog! This doesn’t just help me but help others find this story to enjoy!

Masterlist // Chapter Two

Bad Blood – Chapter Three: Thunderclouds

Previously:

We finished eating and I went back to my room, taking a shower before lying in bed. I decided to text Wanda.

Wanda: ‘You won’t believe it, but the CUTEST guy ever just asked me for my number!!!!’ I giggled knowing that she would probably be over him in a couple weeks (as usual).

Y/n: ‘What’s his name? And did you tell him about your dating habits or should I?’

Wanda: ‘Shut up! You haven’t had a guy in like?? Years? So unless you get some, you are not allowed to talk about my love life hahah.’

Y/n: ‘That’s not true! All the guys I meet are just boring. And btw I’m rolling my eyes.’ Wanda: ‘Well, Bucky doesn’t seem to be boring ;)’

Y/n: ‘So when can I meet this fine young man?’ Wanda: ‘Good night!’ I laughed and rolled over to my side, pulling the duvet all the way up to my chin as I fell asleep. ***

The weeks went by quickly, almost as if someone was turning the clock by hand. It’s been six months now since I started working for Bucky Barnes. I knew the mansion better than I did in the beginning and making my way around went smother that ever. Looking around and wondering where I am wasn’t needed anymore, knowing which way I need to turn. Cleaning the rooms became easier, knowing the ones that were more important like the library where I stood in right now. The library being my favourite room to be in, but my least favourite to clean is quite ironic. Dusting the shelves gave me the opportunity to look at the different genres and authors he likes to read. Mark Elsberg, Steven King and a few from Val McDermid stood amongst the many books. I was reasonably impressed by the number of books he owns. Not being able to resist the urge to take one of them out, I chose ‘Ein Ort für die Ewigkeit’ not knowing why he would have a book in German. I tried reading the back of it, but none of the words made any sense. “Val McDermid, interesting choice, Y/n.” I turned around, heart skipping a beat. Bucky stood leaning on the door frame, his arms crossed and smiling. He walked closer and I could smell his perfume as he approached me. The lack of distance between us, with his shoulder touching mine as he stood next to me, taking the book into his own hands. I looked up to him, his eyes fixed on the book. His lips moving ever so slightly while reading the words, not making a sound. He lifted his gaze from the book and looked at me. His eyes scanning my face gently. Swiftly looking away, I tried to focus on something other than him. “I didn’t know you could read German.” I said, lazily looking at the books. “I can’t,” I looked up at him again, his lips curling up to a smirk “my mom did, though. She was incredible with languages. You could’ve given her a month and she knew how to speak it fluently.” I saw the amazement in his eyes mixed with grief. Knowing what happened to his mother I was able to understand and quickly turned the conversation away from his mom. “You have quite a collection of books, did you read all of them?” “No,” Bucky laughed, looking up at the book shelve “These were my parents’ books, but I have read most of them. I had a lot more time back then. Sneaking in here late at night and reading instead of sleeping. Hank always caught me, though.” Bucky put the book back into the shelf. ‘ I grazed the tips of my fingers on the spine of the books as I walked along the bookshelf, a little dust coating my skin. “What’s your favourite, if you have one?” “Steven King, ‘IT’.” “Really? I thought you were more of the classics type.” I took a glance back at him and saw him smiling lazily. “I love that one too.” Roaming around the room more and reading the titles of the books gave me a sense of loneliness. All these stories, characters and life lessons I don’t know about and might never do. As if on cue, two eyes watching me became the centre of my thoughts. I turned and Bucky stood, eyes fixed on me. I stopped walking, while he moved closer to me. The scent of wood and sea salt drawing closer. The heat of my body appeared to flood into my head, flushing my cheeks, my body felt as if it was slightly floating. He moved closer, placing his right hand on my back. His eyes fixed on the books, but his breath on my ear, quickening once he touched me. His large hand grabbed a book from one of the higher shelves, his white shirt almost pulling out of his pants. The binding of the book had some years behind it and frayed at the corners. I had no intentions of looking at the book though. My eyes fixed upon his sharply carved face. His smooth skin glistening slightly in the low sun. His hand travelled to my waist, small bolts of lightning tingling where his hand toughed me. Bucky’s eyes left the book and he looked at me, soft and warm. My knees slightly buckling. If his hand wasn’t firmly on my waist, I know I would cave in right here. His lips seemed to move closer by accident and I moved towards him without thinking. His lips slightly apart, his breath on my lips with the scent of toothpaste, shifting me into a state of trance. My eyelids suddenly became too heavy and I closed my eyes, Bucky’s lips millimetres away from mine, his hand on my body. For a second, I could feel his lips on mine. “Sorry.” Bucky’s hand left my waist and he expanded the distance, leaving me cold. I looked at him puzzled. He put the book on one of the armchairs and kept his gaze away from mine. “I have to look after Steve.” I stood still for a few seconds, the slight contact of his lips still lingering on mine before going up to my room, avoiding all other human interactions. *** I put on my uniform and strode off to the kitchen to eat breakfast. My mind still in a haze from waking up a little too late and having to get ready as quick as possible, resulted in me being a little irritated. Falling asleep last night was not easy as Bucky kept my mind occupied. The events that happened in the library were still fresh on my mind and I could not help but dread sitting at breakfast with him. Entering the kitchen and sitting down at my usual spot, I tried to look up from my plate as little as possible, avoiding making eye contact with Bucky. “Y/n, I’d like your help getting some boxes out of my office.” Bucky said, his words sounding more like a command, than a request to help. My body froze for a moment before I was able to lift my head and look at him. Bucky quickly moved his gaze back to his breakfast. “Sure.” *** After doing my usual morning routine around the house, I changed into more city appropriate attire and headed off to Bucky’s car. We drove fast and kept the conversation to a minimum. Occasionally asking me how I am and what I planned for the weekend, followed by quick, one worded answer. Arriving at the firm, we went into the tall building. The man at the front desk eying him up and down, giving him a seductive look. I tried not to giggle but couldn’t help the smile. Bucky really draws a lot of seductive looks towards him and I couldn’t blame the guy. We went up to the second to last floor and I looked around the space, impressed at how welcoming it looked. Bucky’s office was located at the back of the large room and upon entering, the difference of his office at home couldn’t be more different. Sleek and polished furniture stood against the walls, the high ceiling windows looked over the city and a plant stood in a corner. A little too minimalistic, as if he didn’t make an effort to make this space his. The cold feeling the room gave, made me shiver. Though, as much of a disappointment the room was, the view of the city sure was breath taking. The midday sun stood proudly over the tall buildings and reflecting the sunlight off the windows. I already saw the two boxes lying on top of his desk and walked over to them, taking one, Bucky took the other one propping it under his arm. The small box was heavy and there wasn’t an address on it as I looked at it further. “What’s in here?” “Medicine for Steve.” Bucky said simply and took off to the door, holding it open with his free hand. We walked out of the office and across the room back to the elevator, stepping inside. An arm stopped the doors from closing, and they opened again, Hannah stepped inside and smiled brightly. Her red polished nails stood out from her pale complexion. The ridiculous amount of perfume coating her, left me scrunching my nose and hold back a sneeze. “Well hello Bucky!” “Hey, Hannah. How are you?” “I’m great!” She looked over her shoulder looking at me “Oh hey Y/n.” The grimaced smile still on her red painted lips. I mustered up a smile and a small nod. They talked for the entire time down to the lobby and I couldn’t wait to get out of this elevator. Being stuck in here with her wasn’t my plan for today. We got out and walked outside, against my luck, Hannah didn’t leave us alone and followed us to the car. They kept talking and my arms felt the weight of the box. If they talk for much longer, I’m going to be able to lift an elephant with the muscles I gained. After what felt like hours, she finally left us alone, swaying her hips as we went and we loaded the two boxes into the car.

I loaded the box into the trunk and walked to the passenger side, about to open the door. “How about some ice cream? I mean how about we get some ice cream?” I stopped in my tracks with the handle in my hand. “Sure, why not?” I responded, mentally slapping myself as I closed the car door and walked next to him down the street. This man surely was a puzzle, his demeanour a lot more relaxed and I felt more and more confused about him. We got ice cream at a small place and started walking through the city. Silence fell between us and we ate our ice cream without saying a word, until someone interrupted us. “Y/N!” I looked ahead of me and my eyes widened. I looked up to Bucky and he looked at me puzzled. “How are you?” Wanda pulled me into a hug and let go of me once she noticed Bucky standing next to me. “And who’s this fine man you got there?” Her lips curled up to a smirk and held her hand out for Bucky to shake. “Bucky Barnes, nice to meet you.” He shook her hand and as I watched his face he didn’t look all that comfortable. “Wanda! We have to get going but I’ll see you, yeah?” I tried to pull Bucky and I away from her and Wanda looked a little nervous, but agreed, nonetheless. We walked further into Manhattan and the awkwardness that lingered in the air was visible in our faces. I didn’t know what to talk to him about and apparently, he didn’t either. “Wow definitely have to watch this movie” Bucky said suddenly, excitement in his voice. I looked at whatever he was looking at and saw an ad for a movie coming out later this year, Aquaman. “You have the worst taste in movies.” “What?” “Nothing.” I hid my face by looking in the other direction away from him. “You’re cute, I’ll give you that. But not cute enough to get away with that.” My face was glowing red at this point, and I couldn’t believe he just said that. Bucky walked back to the car with a smile plastered on his face.

*** We got to the house and I sprinted back to my room to change into my uniform. In a slight hurry to clean the rooms I had planned to clean; I made my way down to the basement to get new cloths, since I couldn’t find any more in the cleaning closet. Genevieve oversees washing clothes and such, but she never told me where the dirty clothes end up. The fact that I have never been in the basement has a reason; I hate basements. I slowly descended the stairs carefully and found myself in a corridor. The grey stoned walls gave a feeling of an old castle and didn’t match the rest of the house. It was eerie being down here and the whistle of air blowing through didn’t make it any better. I walked right until I found a single room, my heart skipped a beat at the sight of it. It wasn’t the room I was looking for. The small rectangular room held a bed, a dresser and a toilet were attached to a wall with no way of privacy whatsoever. Not even a sink or anything else to wash one’s self. The question of who this strange room belongs to was answered once I looked at the green overall, which Hank always wears. The hairs on my neck rose with every second I stood in the room. The smell of dirt filled my senses and I couldn’t help but look around further. The drawer was slightly opened, and I inched forward, taking one last look behind me. I opened the draw and saw a few miscellaneous items. Some gardening tools, cloths, and papers. I wouldn't have looked any further at the items if a name didn’t catch my eye. I picked up the small stack of papers, examining them further. They’re letters, addressed to Genevieve and one addressed to him. Judging from the dates, they were pretty old.

Dearest Genevieve, You have drawn me into a spell that I cannot lift. Your beauty exceeds all that I’ve ever seen and to simply gaze upon you does not fulfil my needs. I ought to know you and the person you are. It pains me to see you walk through the halls of this house and not talk to you about you favourite books. You need to know how I feel and should you feel the same, please write.

Yours truly, through and through, Hank.

My jaw dropped as soon as I finished the letter. They’re married? But that can’t be, I didn’t see a ring on either of them. I put the letter to the back of the stack and went to read the next one, this time from Genevieve.

Dear Hank, I noticed your lingering glances and wondered when you would tell me how you feel. I, too, want to know about you, seeing you at the dining table simply does not satisfy my longings for you.

Sincerely, Gen.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of them being lovers, seeing as how they are right now. I do wonder when their demeanour changed though. From the letters, both of them seemed normal. I moved on to the next one, a little excited to see what happened next. Dearest Genevieve, I am beyond pleased to know your feelings towards me. Let us meet tomorrow at 12 am in the gardens. Yours truly, through and through, Hank. So, they did have a secret romance going on, but I did wonder what happened after. I placed the letter to the back of the stack of papers and went to the next one, but as I did, I noticed the ink had washed away. I went through the pile, but all the others were destroyed.

I put the letters back into the drawer and walked out of the room, back upstairs. I passed Genevieve in the hallway and wondered what had happened between her and Hank. Everything seemed to be going just fine from what I had read, I just wished I could read the other ones.

***

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