#maybe i should extend it to AO3 as well

[violettaskies]

Of Books & Beasts

Prompt: virginity

Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader

Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope

Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right? 

Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking. 

With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.

“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register. 

“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order. 

“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.” 

“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone. 

But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —” 

“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.” 

The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly. 

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?” 

“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.” 

-:-:-:-:-

You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel. 

However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers. 

“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library. 

“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head. 

“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly. 

Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully. 

Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man. 

“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?” 

“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas. 

However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed. 

Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your — 

No. 

This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever. 

“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. 

“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle. 

“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot. 

“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.

Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.” 

“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.” 

The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you. 

“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?” 

You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words. 

What a dream. 

“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket. 

“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly. 

“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.” 

They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry. 

It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little. 

Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice. 

“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body. 

Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever. 

But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least. 

You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve. 

The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.

But you were so wrong. 

Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs. 

Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal. 

Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together. 

-:-:-:-:-

Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant. 

His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before. 

As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too. 

Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process. 

You were about to become the death of him tonight. 

Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him. 

“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”

Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep. 

If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly. 

“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily. 

“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep. 

“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream. 

“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.” 

Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand. 

Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully. 

“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together. 

“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”

The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure. 

“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status. 

“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it. 

“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?” 

Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight. 

“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud

“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions. 

“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered. 

“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all. 

You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”  

“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”

“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment. 

“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice. 

Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them. 

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth. 

“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot. 

“Y-yes, I would be.” 

After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.” 

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.

“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone. 

“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle. 

“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.” 

In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure. 

No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind. 

“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts. 

“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.  

“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him. 

“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly. 

You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him. 

“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts. 

“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.  

“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again. 

“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down. 

All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.” 

The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before. 

“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted. 

“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly. 

“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.

Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever. 

“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours. 

“More, please.” 

“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.” 

“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea. 

Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned. 

“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you. 

“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.

But, you were wrong, so wrong. 

As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise. 

“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him. 

“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter. 

You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.

“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met. 

Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back. 

The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again. 

“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.” 

“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub. 

“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod. 

Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal. 

The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.  

“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper. 

“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder. 

“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve. 

The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples. 

You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good. 

“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin. 

“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.” 

And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms. 

“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently. 

Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high. 

“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down. 

“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips. 

The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips, 

“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses. 

“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now. 

“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?” 

Fuck. 

Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly. 

The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”

“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”

“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 

You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust. 

“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?” 

With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least. 

“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle. 

“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking. 

“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased. 

Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers. 

You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed. 

“Let's use a little, Steve.” 

“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand. 

“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.” 

Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight. 

“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you. 

Just the tip — you said the words before. 

But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out. 

This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of. 

“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in. 

“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size. 

“Feels nice.”  

“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you. 

Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved. 

Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body. 

“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.  

“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you. 

“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you. 

He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.” 

“Need more — need you to go faster.”

“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully. 

“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.

In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely.  “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned. 

“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you. 

Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies. 

“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.” 

“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now. 

You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days. 

One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.  

“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster. 

“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”

“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.

“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.” 

Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”  

“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes. 

“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.  

“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots. 

Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you. 

And he did. 

Good god, he did. 

“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously. 

“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve. 

He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you. 

For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way. 

You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays. 

“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you. 

“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him. 

“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process. 

“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again. 

Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs. 

“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze. 

Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips. 

“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”

You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked. 

“Another day?” 

“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin. 

“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process. 

If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too. 

-:-:-:-:-

#my writing #writing #st fanfic #st fanfiction #fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #LazyGhoulsKinktober2023 #friends to lover #fluff #fluff and smut #best friend!steve #innocent!reader #perv!steve harrington #perv!steve harrington x innocent!reader #steve harrington x f!reader #afab reader #slight somnophilia #just the tip #st #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #my fic #writing prompt #steve harrington #set before season 4

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (10) - A New Way

Chapter summary: Astarion always find a way back to you even in the midst of all the chaos.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Sexual frustration. Jealous Astarion. Protective Astarion. Fingering. Masturbation. Cumplay. Innuendo. Body worship.

Word count: 7.3k

Author's note: Tumblr isn't allowing me to reply to comments ever since I changed my @... already contacted support. I am not ignoring you guys *deep sigh*

Ao3

Series Masterlist

Rivington had its fair share of taverns and inns sprawled across its busy and lively streets. It was surely a welcome change from the grim and daunting sense of dread that loomed over you when travelling across the shadowlands. 

As such, the group had split to indulge in some brief moments of well deserved and welcome repose before finally reaching Baldur’s Gate.

Astarion sat across from you, subtlety eyeing his surroundings as you happily sipped your apple juice. 

The sun had yet to reach its peak but the tavern was already crawling with drunkards and unpleasant crowds. 

“We shouldn’t linger.” Astarion mused with arms crossed.

You nodded. “I’m nearly done.”

As much as you wished to forget about the troubling matters that haunted you, it was evident that your presence was earning some unwanted curious stares from a few onlookers. 

He suddenly reached for the pouch at his hip, withdrawing a piece of fabric before extending his hand to you.

“Here.”

You took it in your hand, briefly admiring its silky texture of the handkerchief as shades of teal and green swirled together in mesmerising patterns.

Then your fingers found golden letters sewn along one corner. 

Your name.

Your heart was clenched tight as you traced each letter in absolute awe.

“Astarion, this is…”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, think nothing of it, darling. You’re often covered in blood and sweat and Gods know what other fluids,” he said with a curt smile. “I figured you might as well look stylish whilst wiping that pretty face of yours.”

There he was.

So easily crawling under your skin with his words and now with such a thoughtful gift that fully displayed his artistry and exceptional needlework.

A lump in your throat held your words back.

Maybe he didn’t consider this gesture all that relevant or even worthy of a lingering thought, but you did.

This was a silent extension of him.

Now you’d have him by your heart at all times.

But the moment was cut short as a loud bang rippled across your table.

A man reeking of cheap mead cackled loudly at you. He was swaying so violently it was an incredible feat that he was able to stand on both feet without losing balance.

“Oi! Aren’t you that gal from a few years ago who did magic tricks?”

Your blood ran cold at once and your insides twisted into several knots.

“I don’t think so.” you said, focusing your gaze on the drink in front of you.

You didn’t recognise him, but you silently prayed he would just drop the matter and leave.

Instead, he hiccuped. “N-No! It is you! I would never forget such a face.”

Your eyes met Astarion’s momentarily as he narrowed his crimson eyes at the loud drunkard, and you reckoned he was close to intervening. 

You mustered your strength. “No. It’s not me.”

But the man was insistent as he was drunk.

He banged a hand on the wooden surface once more. “What? You are the one whose mother–”

The flash of a dagger pierced through your field of vision, landing right between the man’s fingers, the blade pressed menacingly against his thumb.

“She said ‘no’,” he said through gritted teeth, eyes flaring with contempt. “Should I teach you the meaning of the word?”

The man shuddered and cowered in fear as he strolled away as fast as his wobbly steps would allow.

But Astarion had overdone it and had simultaneously caused many heads to turn your way, voices whispering as people tried to make out what the fuss was all about.

“We’ve overstayed our welcome,” he said, sheathing his dagger as he stood up.

You remained frozen in place, still taken aback by the words the man had spewed at you.

Your mind had been kept too busy to dive back into the memories of your mother, and to dwell on what had happened so many years ago.

A shudder spread across your entire body as the sense of dread gripped you.

You felt his hand nudge your shoulder. “Now’s not the time for daydreaming, sweetheart.”

And he quickly tugged at your arm, pulling you up on your feet before the two of you scurried along the tavern and earning heavy glares.

You made it out just in time as two Fists crossed paths with you on their way inside, trying to disperse the crowd that had gathered around the entryway.

“What was that all about?” Astarion asked as soon as you were able to blend in with the passers-by. 

“Nothing.”

Your mouth had gone awfully dry even though you had downed most of your apple juice, replenishing your hydration level. 

He stared at you, raising a brow inquisitively. “He did actually know you, didn’t he?”

You met his gaze in a silent warning. “He must have had me confused with someone else.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, but I will not pry. We all have secrets to bear.”

You nodded, thankful for his understanding remark.

There was no point in lying to him. He could always see right through your silly attempts at deception. 

“Just know that you can come to me should you need to air them out,” he added. “I know all too well how buried secrets always find a way to crawl to the surface – one way or another.”

It was a glaring testament to how he had come to terms with opening up to someone else.

He had come far in that regard and you felt proud of him.

A faint smile settled on your lips, but it faded just as quickly once realisation hit you.

“Wait!” you said, gripping his arm. “The handkerchief – I left it there. Let me–”

He patted your back. “Leave it, darling. Unless you fancy starting a tavern brawl, that is.”

Your heart dropped.

“But…”

“I will embroider you a new one.”

But he never did.

There was no point in lying to Astarion.

You were very well aware of this.

He would spot your deceit faster than a hawk could tail its prey.

But the dreadful sense of impending doom had rooted you to the sofa.

This couldn’t all just be a coincidence. 

By the time the two of you had reached the room, Gale and Lae’zel had already vanished through a portal to Waterdeep to assess the situation. 

“All we can do for now is wait.” Astarion said, adjusting his shirt. 

Shadowheart scoffed. “This is all very odd. It’s as if something is at work against us.”

You nodded. “I agree.”

“Are the two of you in some competition to see who’s the most dramatic?” he said with a click of his tongue. “Honestly, we know nothing about what happened. Maybe his contact succumbed to self-inflicted boredom – a running theme amongst wizards.”

His sense of humour would have been welcome under different circumstances, but you were on the brink of freaking out.

“Maybe I could cast Arcane Gate and help out…” you said in a restless tone, feeling nauseous.

But the mage slayer outside kept your magic levels too low for you to successfully cast a level six conjuration spell, so it was not even an option.

Astarion immediately snorted as he joined your side. “Perish the thought. I don’t think it’d be wise to do such a thing given your condition. You might open a portal to some place infested with murderous creatures, and then I’ll have to jump in to rescue you.”

Shadowheart, who had been pacing worriedly across the room, came to an immediate halt. “What condition?”

You rubbed your temples as if it would magically dissipate the gnawing headache.

“I had too much to drink last night.”

Shadowheart’s accusatory stare immediately landed on Astarion. “What did you do?”

He scoffed dramatically. “Excuse me? I am well aware that pinning the blame on me is a recurring activity in this group, but I had nothing to do with this.”

You groaned with a wince. “Please keep your voices down…”

Shadowheart rushed to lower herself by your feet until she could eye-level with you. “Are you all right?”

No.

And it had little to do with the aftermath of your alcohol consumption.

Ava.

Your intuition was pounding ceaselessly in your mind and you just couldn’t bring yourself to ignore it any longer.

Yes, she had told you she would talk to Astarion, but your nerves were being eaten raw and time wasn’t something you could afford to spare.

“I… think I need to talk about something…” you began as a shiver tore through your body.

Shadowheart gripped your knees, her face twisted in alarmed worry. “What is it?”

You exchanged a glare with Astarion who eyed you in confusion.

“I met up with Ava last night and…” You paused briefly, pondering your next words. “She made an offering.”

His brows furrowed together. “What offering?”

You felt sweat coat your palms as your heart rate quickened in distress. “She’s under the impression someone is after us,” you said, clutching your hands together. “That whoever it is might be responsible for that dead body and us getting wrongfully arrested.”

Shadowheart was now gripping your knees firmly. “And what did she offer?”

Your leg was visibly shaking now as you were finding it harder to keep your composure.

“Apparently, when Astarion feeds on me, our blood mixes together and…”

As far as you were aware, Shadowheart wasn’t aware of his deal with Ava, so you decided to hold that information.

“She’s interested in that… mixture and wants access to it in exchange for information.”

The effect your words had was nearly catastrophic. 

Shadowheart looked positively scandalised and Astarion immediately gripped your arm, snarling, “ What? ”

He was instantly on his feet and you followed suit.

“How would she even have access to that in the first place?” she asked in awe.

Astarion spoke before you could, “I’ve been giving her some of my blood as she researches ways to counter the effects of vampirism. But I wasn’t aware of this!”

“ Astarion! ” Shadowheart let out in sheer outrage. “What in the Hells is wrong with you?”

He ignored her remark, eyes fixed on you.

He was mad.

No.

He was furious.

Up until this point, you had only ever witnessed him protect Ava and vouched for her integrity, but it seemed that he was no longer interested in upholding his defence. 

“She told me she would tell you of this as she only recently found out about it.”

“To Hells with that!” he snarled. “Did you agree to that arrangement?”

Silence

But that was answer enough.

“You should have told me!”

You swallowed the uncomfortable lump in your throat. “You never listen to me when it comes to her!”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “This is different!”

“How?!”

Crimson eyes locked with yours as he scowled deeply. “She involved you!”

His admission stunned you into silence.

It wasn’t all that common nowadays to witness Shadowheart succumb to her protective instinct to the point of no return.

But you could tell she was close to snapping when she approached Astarion, yellow flames dangerously swirled across her palms.

“Give me one good reason not to blast this Ava into oblivion,” she growled with ire. “Or you, for that matter.”

He gave her a mocking scoff. “Darling, I’d love to see you try.”

She smiled deviously and you knew it was time to intervene. 

You carefully placed your hand on her arm. “Shadowheart.”

She glanced at you almost in disbelief. “‘Shadowheart’? He���s out here dealing with dodgy people and putting us all at risk! Now she’s also involved with murdering people in Waterdeep?”

Astarion let out an exasperated groan. “What connection is there between the two, then?”

In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure.

Not yet, at least.

At this point, you were allowing your gut feeling to guide you, and it could very well blow up in your face if she turned out to be innocent in all of this.

However… the warning signs were too loud to ignore.

“I… don’t know yet.”

Astarion was glaring at you with pursed lips, and you vaguely wondered if he was upset with you, or if he was actually upset that his judgement had failed him when it came to Ava.

“You can bleed yourself dry if you wish, but not her ,” Shadowheart pressed in a low voice.

“I know .” he shot back.

She took a step forward, her face dangerously close to his. “Then you’d do well to remember that my respect for you has its limits. Do not cross them.”

You tugged at her arm again, trying to put some distance in between them.

“Well, this conversation isn’t going anywhere,” he said after a while with a scoff before turning around to leave. “I’ll be in my room.”

You tried to go after him, but Shadowheart held you firmly in place. “Let him go.”

It was hard to do so, but you nodded as you sat on a nearby chair.

“I know you care deeply for him, but this is beyond ludicrous.” she said with a heavy sigh.

Her voice was that of reason, so you couldn’t fault her for being so apprehensive.

“He would never harm me.”

And you would always stand by this as sure as the sun is to rise.

“Not consciously, but by dealing with this woman, he might have opened a door to great peril.”

You nodded, avoiding her penetrating gaze. “Wyll is running a few checks on some information she gave me. I guess we’ll find an answer soon enough.”

Shadowheart’s face softened every so slightly.

“Please exert caution with Astarion,” she said, grabbing your hand. “And I’m not talking about this in particular.

Oh.

“I don’t doubt for a second that he cares for you, but I don’t want to see you bound to nightmares,” she said in a whisper. “That is no way of living.”

You took a deep breath. “Things are fine between us.”

Unexpectedly, she let out a chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure. My room is next to his and… well, let’s just say that I may have overheard him mumbling your name a few times…”

“What do you…”

Oh.

“So, just… be careful,” she pleaded as she gripped your hand fiercely. “I trust your judgement, but not his… especially not after this.

You felt your heart swell with affection for Shadowheart and you pulled her into a tight embrace, almost tearing up as you did so.

“Thank you.”

She rubbed your back affectionately and whispered, “I adore you.”

“So do I.”

It was becoming more and more apparent that standing outside Astarion’s room was almost part of a routine now.

After a few more seconds, she finally pulled back with a reassuring smile. “I’ll tell the Fists outside to inform Wyll of what’s happened.”

And it was also unnecessarily hard to reach out for that first knock.

You had waited a couple of hours before deciding on what to do.

Wyll hadn’t shown up yet and there was still no word from Waterdeep.

So, you took a deep breath and as you were about to rasp your knuckles against the door, a charming voice was heard, “I know you’re outside.”

Of course he did.

“Can I come in?”

A brief pause.“Be my guest.”

You turned the knob and rushed inside, clicking the door shut behind you.

As expected, the room was plunged in a candle-lit dimness as the curtains draped over the window kept the blazing sun at bay.

Astarion lay on his bed, resting against the headboard as he threaded his way along a piece of cloth with a needle, his eyes solely focused on the task at hand.

Your stomach turned and twisted in knots, and you realised you weren’t quite sure how to start the conversation.

A low chuckle was heard. “I’m assuming you didn’t come here to simply stare at me, darling.”

The lightheartedness in his voice made you feel slightly at ease and you shook your head. “No. I suppose not.”

This time, he did meet your eyes briefly and your heart skipped a beat.“As dashing as I am, I’d rather hear what you have to say instead.”

Right.

You cleared your throat, taking careful steps towards him before taking a seat at the feet of his bed, mindful to keep a certain respectful distance.

“I should have told you about Ava earlier on when you asked me.”

“Indeed.”

He didn’t sound upset in the slightest.

If anything, there was a faint hint of strange calmness to his voice.

“As for Shadowheart…”

He let out a snort. “Please. The day she stops worrying about you is the day I’ll find her in a casket.”

You couldn’t help out a short chuckle as he was absolutely right. 

Still, you laced your hands in your lap, absentmindedly fidgeting with your fingers. “I…” you began, before drifting off as uncertainty took place. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

Astarion paused altogether and his crimson eyes were on you again.

“See, I do understand that reasoning,” he said, tugging at the thread that curled around one finger. “But considering the nature of your conversation with her, you should have told me right away.”

You nodded.

“As fruitful as my connection to her might prove to be, I cannot accept the deal you made with her.”

Your heart raced in your chest at how determined he seemed in his resolve. 

However…

“If what she says is true and someone is after us, this feels like a small price to pay.”

Astarion snipped the thread with a pair of scissors before setting his handiwork on the bedside table.

The look on his face could easily make the bravest men cower in fear.

“Nothing that involves you is a ‘small price to pay’,” he said, voice low and heavy. “It’s one thing for me to willfully provide my blood, and another for her to take advantage of you so blatantly.”

You frowned deeply. “She is also taking advantage of you, then.” 

“I can deal with her.”

Astarion had this tendency to sell himself short in terms of self-worth. At times, he was as confident as one could be, but the centuries of robbed autonomy and lack of genuine bond to others would often slip in and take hold.

He was probably not even aware of how easy it was for you to catch on to this, but you knew him well enough by now. 

“You don’t have to.”

He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”

It nearly shattered you to hear him put up his defences around you so unbelievably fast.

There was no need for that.

“Don’t ,” you nearly pleaded. “Please don’t assume I am trying to tell you what to do.”

Just as rapidly, his features softened ever so slightly. “I apologise.”

You vehemently shook your head. “I also apologise if my words came across as condescending.”

An unsettling silence took place.

His eyes roamed across your face and you felt more exposed to him than you had ever been even when fully naked in his presence.

Even though you felt comfortable and safe with him, there were times when you wondered if it was reciprocal.  

“Ava is not your concern,” he eventually said. “I will deal with her.”

You had no doubt he would.

It just saddened you that… “I know she was helping you out in more ways than one, even if I don’t particularly agree with the… method, so to speak.”

“Yet here you are, thinking that whatever bond I share with her is significant enough,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “I am using her as much as she is using me. But I never allowed for that to extend to you. Ever .”

You swallowed as his harsh words hit you.

“That was her first mistake – involving you.”

“I took the deal freely.” you said.

“You didn’t have to at all,” he retorted impatiently. “She needs me more than I need her. So, if she knows anything about someone coming after us, she will tell me and I won’t be kind when I ask her to.”

Fair enough.

“Will you still give her your blood?”

“It depends.”

You blinked. “On what?”

“On how the conversation goes,” he said with a shrug. “Though what I do know for certain is that I will not give her blood after feeding on you.”

An impending sense of dread rose inside you and you vaguely wondered if you had just fucked up.

Information was power, and you worried that she might not take it well now that Astarion was openly against her proposal. 

But to be fair, she did mention she would let him know about all of this. So, it wasn’t truly your fault that he didn’t take it well, was it?

In fact, it was very much on brand with Astarion.

His sense of loyalty to you was unwavering and transcended any arrangement the two of you had agreed to.

And that was a bond not easily severed, probably much to Ava’s dismay.

“You are off limits.”

It wasn’t a subtle warning by any means and it made your heart swell with warmth somehow. His protectiveness nearly rivalled that of Shadowheart, though you wouldn’t dare tell her this.

A faint smile curled his lips. “I have to thank you.”

You arched an eyebrow. “For what?”

He hesitated at first. “I know you mean well. I do know that.”

Oh, Astarion…

“You’re a better friend than I could ever have hoped for – or even deserve,” he went on. “It is hard at times to be vulnerable. I was never allowed to. For centuries I equated being vulnerable to being weak… even pathetic.”

You were unsure of how to respond, but you felt each word tug at your heartstrings in a way that you had only felt when he had confessed his feelings for you back in Moonrise Towers. 

“I’m still getting used to this…” He paused abruptly as if pondering his next words. “Allowing myself to feel all these emotions, I suppose.”

“You are more deserving than you think,” you said truthfully. “Give yourself some credit. You used to be bound to your selfishness when we first met. You didn’t care for others because no one ever cared for you.”

His face held an expression akin to hurt, but it was the good kind of pain. Breaking one’s protective shell didn’t come without discomfort, but it was worth it in the long run. 

Unconsciously, you shifted along the edge of the bed as the overwhelming urge to embrace him took over you at once. 

Still, you didn’t want to push it, so you halted once you were sitting right next to him, which earned an amused smile from him.

“I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

He reached his hand to grab the piece of cloth on the nightstand. The very same he had just been embroidering moments ago.

“Come here.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he tapped his thigh twice. 

Noticing your hesitancy, he repeated the motion until you gathered yourself, feeling a rush of heat pool at your cheeks.

“You do have a thing for keeping me waiting, darling.” he remarked playfully.

A chuckle made its way past your lips as you moved to settle on his lap, careful not to sit too close to his-

“Here you go,” he said, proffering what resembled a kerchief of some sort.

You took it in your hands, admiring its silky texture and mesmerising fusion of different shades of blue that swirled beautifully together until your eyes spotted the yellow-threaded embroidery sprawled along one corner.

Your name.

The needlework was impeccable as always.

Your eyes widened in sheer bewilderment as you remembered the last time he had offered you such a gift.“I – this is beautiful,” you managed to say. “The other one was a masterpiece as well.”

He chuckled tenderly. “The timing of my offering was rather inopportune on that day – I should have waited until we were back in camp.”

His words were sweet and caressed you like a lover, and you could feel yourself drawn more and more to him.

“May I?”

You nodded as he took the kerchief from your hands only to have it drape around your neck, his fingers tugging gently at both ends as his eyes met yours.

Oh.

Fuck.

You only had time to hastily hold on to the headboard with both hands for support as he pulled you in closer. “May I kiss you?”

It was an uncomfortable position to be in since you were trying to avoid his crotch at all costs.

“Where?”

His gaze dropped to your lips.

“Friends don’t do that.” you teased, but still inching closer to him.

“Darling ,” he began with a click of his tongue, rolling the edges of the fabric around each finger. “We haven’t been friends for quite a while now.”

And then he kissed you.

It was a hungry and urgent kiss and his tongue quickly slipped past your lips, causing you to instantly melt into him.

The softest moan escaped your throat as you felt a single fang nip teasingly at your lower lip.

Driven by pure instinct, you shifted along his thighs until you were pressed against his crotch.

He broke the kiss to let out a strained groan and you immediately lifted your hips, alarmed that you had gone too far.

But his hands immediately dropped to your waist, holding you in place. “Don’t.”

You met his lustful gaze. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t. Please .”

He didn’t push you back against him, but you felt his fingers tease the waistband of your trousers. 

“Astarion…” you said, unsure if this was a good idea.

He tugged again, but more gently this tme. “We don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with.”

Oh, you were more than eager to carry on. In fact, you were desperate .

You bit your lip, torn between listening to reason or giving in to the moment.

The latter won by a landslide. 

You nodded and he masterfully undid the buttons and laces with one hand.

“Do you trust me?”

What an odd question from him. “You know I do.”

His thumb traced your jawline before grazing your lower lip and earning a sigh from you. “Can I trust you not to scream?”

“Scream? Why would I-”

Realisation hit you like a tidal wave and your eyes widened as words died in your mouth.

Oh.

Astarion smiled cheekily, patting your thigh, clearly urging you to slide off of his lap.  “Lock the door.”

You were still taken aback and didn't move an inch, staring into his crimson eyes instead as your heart drummed rapidly in your chest.

“Lock the door .”

It resembled a plea, which caused you to clench involuntarily from how desperate he sounded.

Swiftly slipping off his lap, you hurried across his room to turn the key below the doorknob until a click was heard.

By the time you turned around, Astarion had removed his shirt and you were rooted in place, utterly speechless.

He was a work of art. 

No words of praise would ever do him justice.

Your mouth had dropped slightly open and he chuckled deviously. “You’re free to stay there and gawk, but I’d rather have you on top of me.”

His teasing snapped you out of your trance-like state and you felt a stronger wave of heat flare across your face and rush down your body.

Your legs felt weak all of a sudden, but you found your way back to him as you always did.

In the end, all roads did lead back to him.

As if driven by an outside force, you quickly slipped out of your trousers, only leaving on your underwear which was already gathering a growing wet spot.

His stare was fixed on your lower half and you spotted the familiar outline of his cock strained in his own trousers.

He eased you back on his lap with a firm grip on your waist and a boyish grin on his lips. Your hands settled on his bare shoulders, still mindful to not lower your hips too much.

“So, my dearest friend… ” he said, adjusting the kerchief around your neck. “How often do you indulge in such activities with your other friends?”

You smirked playfully. “Not often enough.”

He mirrored your expression, fingers slowly undoing each button of your shirt. “Oh? I wonder who crosses your mind, then.”

You.

But he already knew that as his hands travelled down your chest, each breath allowing your shirt to part wide enough to expose your heaving breasts.

“Is it Wyll?”

“You and your obsession with Wyll,” you laughed as he slowly pulled the fabric to the side, exposing each breast at a time. “I’m starting to think you want him for yourself.”

His eyes left yours to gaze at a perky nipple. “The question is: would you be willing to share?”

You whimpered softly as his thumb traced the underside of one breast and you felt too tempted to press down against his erection just so you could comfort the throb in between your legs. 

“Of course… I’m all for sharing friends.” 

Once he began grazing your nipple, you had to grip his shoulders tighter to anchor yourself.

Your body undulated instinctively, earning a hum of approval from him.

“Would you let Wyll do this, then? As a friend, obviously.”

You were about to arch a brow at his question when you felt one finger pulling your underwear to the side, exposing yourself to him.

It was almost comical how soaked you already were.

You reckoned it was enough to take more than just his fingers.

“Would you let him, darling?”

“I–”

But your voice died in your throat as he ran a single cool finger along your folds, carefully avoiding the swell in between them much to your agony.

The shift in temperature was always something that took some time getting used to and you occasionally flinched as your body adjusted to his touch.

“Can I do this, then?” he asked in a low growl as he teased your entrance. “As a friend.”

You rolled your hips out of reflex and he sank into you with ease until he was knuckle-deep. 

“Gods…” you moaned in sheer relief, instinctively clenching around him.

He then pressed his thumb between your folds, causing your hips to jerk as he teased the pulsing swell. It wasn’t long until you began to slowly ride him, your eyes nearly fluttering shut.

“You can take more, can’t you?” he cooed, moving his hand to tease your other nipple. “I remember how eager you used to be for my cock.”

At this rate, he would make you come from his teasing words alone and with a single finger buried inside you.

“Astarion… don’t…” you moaned as you rolled your hips, urging him on. 

He needed to shut up…

You needed him to stop talking before-

He suddenly slipped a second finger and you lost your balance, pressing your breasts against his bare chest while seeking support from his shoulder as you buried your face in his neck.

“You have no idea how I longed to be inside you again,” he sighed, his fingers gripping your waist and guiding your sloppy rolls, eventually setting the pace. “My hands can never feel as divine as you do.”

Gods…

You shuddered violently as your moans quickly turned into sobs and whimpers, the wet lewd sounds filling your ears.

He pressed the heel of his palm against you, the delicious friction causing you to rake your  hand down from his shoulder and along his chest until he caught your wrist, pressing your heated palm against his hardened nipple.

Astarion immediately groaned and you felt him arch into you.

“Darling…” he moaned, pumping his fingers faster inside you. “Please look down.”

You were so out of it, that his words didn’t register at first, so you kept on riding him in between sobs, further teasing his nipple under your touch.

“Look down,” he repeated more firmly, nearly slipping out of you. “I want you to see the mess you’ve made.”

“ No-no-no … please…” you nearly cried in exasperation, moving your hips desperately against him.

“Then look down.”

You growled in pure frustration, somehow managing to pull back enough to have your eyes land on the hand in between your legs.

It was soaked down to his wrist, and you could see some of it beginning to drip, staining his strained bulge.

You felt an overwhelming wave of embarrassment wash down over you and tried to bury your face in his neck again, but he gripped your chin with his fingers, halting you.

“Do not hide from me,” he said, slipping his fingers back inside as he stared into your half-hooded eyes. “This is one of the highest praises you can offer me.” And he proved his point by planting the softest kiss on your lips.

You immediately melted into his praise, realising just how lovely he could be…

The pent-up sexual frustration was at an all time high and you could feel the familiar coil in your lower abdomen reach the point of no return.

You wished you were strong enough to fight him back with snarky and witty replies, but your concentration was broken. 

“What about a third one?”

You didn’t care anymore.

You just wanted release.

It had been too long since he had made you come and you'd take anything he gave you at this point.

“Just…” you began, chasing after that high relentlessly. “ Just… ”

He had the nerve to chuckle at your frustration and you felt a third finger prodding at your entrance.

You could take it.

You would take it.

The fullness would most surely remind you of his cock and you needed it.

You were wet enough to accommodate him as he pushed through, earning a gasp from you followed by a shudder and a strained groan.

“I don’t mean to brag, but I highly doubt dear Wyll would get this reaction from you.”

“Gods… stop talking about Wyll as you’re inside me,” you managed to string coherents words together in between your moans. “Just… please…”

He pressed a kiss to your flushed cheek. “You always take me so well.”

How you wished it was his cock instead, stretching you even more and filling you deeper.

You were nearly there.

“Don’t scream, darling.” he teased as you rode him desperately. “We wouldn't want dear Shadowheart to overhear your wanton cries.”

Well, Shadowheart was already privy to the nature of your relationship with Astarion thanks to him and how he clearly didn't shy away from taking care of himself with others around.

Your mind was about to blank and you slid the kerchief from your neck, feeling the need to bite down on something as you reached your peak.

A few more hip rolls did the trick and one last stroke of his thumb along your folds managed to push you right over the edge.

Your contractions were so violent and strong at first you thought you might die from how hard you were clenching around him, your legs wobbling dangerously as you were drained of lifeforce with each blinding wave of bliss.

The piece of cloth in your mouth didn’t do much to muffle you as your climax tore throughout your body, but it was better than having nothing.

Astarion only slid out once you had slumped into his chest, barely able to keep your breathing steady.

Your knees gave out and you sank down against his crotch, earning a guttural growl from deep within him.

Shit.

You instantly slid off of him, worrying you had accidentally gone too far. “Astarion… I’m…”

He shook his head, the hand that was soaked in your wetness clawing at the front of his trousers as his eyes were pressed shut.

Oh.

“I’ll take care of this…” he let out a pained hiss.

Oh.

“I can just leave,” you mumbled. “I’m…”

His trousers were now undone and you could see his clothes cock faintly throbbing.

And he shook his head once again. “You can stay – you can watch… if you want to.” His words were coated in urgent lust. 

Your eyes widened at his proposition and you thought you might implode right there and then.

You had barely come down from your climax and the throbbing that had begun to subside was already about to match your quickened heartbeat.

“Or you can leave…” he said in a low and strained voice.

Oh, he was truly holding back…

“I… can stay.” you offered at once, sitting next to him and trying to ignore the lust that was building inside you once again.

This wasn't about you.

He quickly nodded and with a swift tug he freed his cock and you had to bite down hard on your lip at the mesmerising sight in front of you.

A single strand of precum dangled from the tip, already pooling on his lower abdomen. 

“Gods above…” he let out a sigh of relief, hips lifting from the mattress as he wrapped the hand drenched in your wetness around him. 

This was too hot to witness and you curled your hands into fists on your lap, wishing nothing more than to touch him again.

But you knew he needed this.

He needed to feel at ease with his body first.

His eyes met yours briefly before dropping to your chest and to your breasts as they heaved from your laboured breathing.

You removed your shirt, not wanting to obstruct his view and Astarion growled .

The pace was slow at first as he squeezed his cock, but he quickly picked up, mixing your wetness with his with each stroke.

He looked positively ethereal as his handsome face twisted in pleasure, lips parted and razor-sharp fangs peeking through. 

Should you say something? Should you praise him? Encourage him? Or would it be too much?

From what you remembered, he seemed to revel in your teasing words in moments of shared bliss, but how much of that was an act back then? Was he ever able to fully enjoy being with you?

In doubt, you chose to remain silent as you watched him bring himself closer to his own climax.

It didn't take him long to start mumbling your name in between heated pants and there was no way back now.

You were throbbing hard again, wetness spilling from you with each involuntarily clench. 

Your body was so ready for him… it was almost painful.

A thicker string of precum bridged his tip to his abdomen, and you nearly moaned, remembering its sweet taste.

He rolled his hips languidly, eyes never leaving you as he gripped the bedsheets under him with such force you reckoned me might tear right through the fabric.

That sparked newfound curiosity inside you.

Slowly, you leaned forward, shifting closer just to have your hand next to his without quite touching him, but close enough for him to feel your warmth.

I'm here… I'm with you, you wanted to whisper, but only heard the words echo in your head.

He groaned in response and, much to your surprise, he released the sheets and his fingers found you, intertwining them in yours as he held on to you. 

Your heart might have skipped several beats, you were no longer sure at this rate.

You had seen him reach his peak a handful of times before, but there was something different about the way he toppled over the edge this time.

He threw his head back against the headboard, straining his neck as his mouth dropped open, your name being the only intelligible word you could make out in the midst of hisses and groans. 

Your heart was hammering so fast in your chest that you feared you might not make it as he reached his peak.

His hips still momentarily and he covered his swollen tip with his hand and the first spurts of cum began to slip through his fingers before dribbling down to gather at the base and across his lower abdomen.

You held his hand formçy through his climax. Perhaps the first genuine one you had ever witnessed, which invoked an odd feeling of… delight?

For the second time in just a mere couple of days, the two of you held hands albeit seeking varying degrees of comfort and relief.

Beads of sweat rolled down his temple and covered his bare torso as he descended from his high and that was when his eyes met yours.

Your stomach turned and you felt the throb between your legs begin to ease with each passing second.

“Will you kiss me?”

His request took you by surprise, but you promptly shifted next to him until your face was close enough that your lips grazed his.

Only then did he let go of your hand and merely because he meant to hold your chin as he kissed you softly.

It carried neither urgency nor lust.

Just a pure display of silent  intimacy that strummed at your heartstrings more effectively than any other praise he could ever offer you.

You melted into his sweet touch and allowed your kiss to express the unspoken words you had yet to tell him.

I love you…

Whichever form of love it was, all you knew was that it felt right and love overdue.

You could feel him occasionally smile against your lips and there was not a single drop of doubt in you.

I love you.

After what felt like an eternity, you pulled away, already mourning his touch.

“Shadowheart knows.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

You had to hold back a chuckle. “She heard you – well, when you were… handling things after feeding on me.”

The most mischievous of smiles settled on his lips. 

“I thought you said you were quiet…”

“I was, darling,” he said before pecking your cheek. “For the most part, that is.”

You giggled and then stared at him in awe as his beauty increased tenfold from where you sat.

He was impossibly handsome.

“You’re so…”

“Charming?”

You rolled your eyes as he pressed his cool lips to your other cheek.

“Beautiful?”

Another kiss.

“You’re so… you.” you blurted out almost feeling embarrassed from how basic your praise was.

But it drew the biggest smile from him, and you mirrored it instantly.

“Well…”

You watched as his eyes dropped to his lower half and yours widened slightly at the obscene amount of cum was now dribbling down his sides in thick beads. His hand was still holding his now softening cock, fingers drenched in his own spend.

“That’s a lot…” you said.

He nodded, looking almost as perplexed as you were. “I don’t think I’ve ever…” and his voice trailed down.

And you knew exactly what he meant.

With a warm smile, you extended your hand, offering him the kerchief he had gifted you moments before.

He visibly winced. “No, darling. It would be nigh criminal to use such delicate fabric on this .”

Your smile widened. “Can I fetch you a towel then?”

“Please,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “It’s rather messy here.”

You pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips before sliding off the bed and hurriedly slipping into your shirt and trousers and crossing the room.

The key turned in one swift move and you quickly left the room.

You were only able to take a few steps before a silhouette startled you.

Shadowheart.

She was leaning against the railing by the top of the staircase with folded arms and a quirked brow.

“Gods! You scared me,” you said, clutching at your chest. 

“Glad some of us are able to enjoy ourselves in such times.”

You swallowed hard. “Uh… we were just talking.”

She snickered humorously. “I suppose it’s a form of communication.”

An overwhelming heatwave spread across your face. Had you been that loud? Or had he? 

Then her expression turned serious. “Pull yourself together. We have visitors.” 

TBC

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x you #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x oc #astarion x f!reader #the arrangement #astarion smut

[queenof-curses]

The Birth of a Queen

Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ryomen Sukuna is lonely and needs a Queen. Can't find one? Just make one!

Tags: Minors DNI! Explicit, Soft Dom Sukuna, She/her pronouns, fluff and smut, mostly smut though...

wc: 2.8k

Masterlist | More Jujutsu Kaisen

Read part II here!

A/N: this was actually the first fic I've ever written- reposted from Ao3. Enjoy!

--

Floating. That’s what it felt like. Floating in a pool, with your mind drifting in and out of blissful sleep. Relaxation washed over your body; you didn’t want to wake up, didn’t know if you could.

Who am I? You thought. 

Where am I? 

Suddenly, your eyes open and take in your surroundings. Darkness engulfs you. It’s colder, and you break out in goosebumps. With your eyes finally adjusting you make out the room you’re in. Sitting up, you quickly realize you’re not floating in a pool. Well, it is a pool, but not necessarily water. The dark, red liquid is not cold nor warm, but is in fact quite a comfortable temperature. You skim the substance with your hand, grazing its surface. It has no smell, but the consistency and color is similar to that of blood. Chills run through your body. 

Realizing that you’re sitting on top of this pool, it’s deep enough to stick your hand through, but yet you aren’t falling through its surface. Some sort of curse technique? 

Strange, you think to yourself. Where am I? 

“So it did work,” booms a deep, strong voice. Echoing through the room. 

Startled, you stand and make out the rest of the room that surrounds you. About 20 feet ahead sits a giant structure. A throne sits high up above you, gilded in dark obsidian and black as night. A figure sits upon the imperial style chair, a man maybe? Well, he sure seems human at first glance. You continue to observe his features. Pink hair, you notice, followed by chiseled features, a strong nose and chin with a lean body peaking out from a cream colored robe. Not only that, but you see black markings similar to tattoos adorn his body. On his face, hands, and you see even more on the small exposed part of his chest. With your eyes trailing over his features, you were too distracted to realize he was doing the same exact process with you. Taking you in fully, he hums appreciatively. 

“Come closer, let me take a good look at you.” He says, beckoning you in with two fingers. 

You stand on shaky legs. Looking down you realize you are wearing a dress similar in color to his robe, except your dress has no sleeves and wraps you tight. Gasping you look down at yourself. Markings have appeared all over your body. Markings that reflect the man almost identically. Looking up at him with wide eyes and confusion, he calls you closer.

“Please, come closer. I would never hurt something as precious as you.” 

Making your way slowly towards him you take a moment to reflect what you are currently feeling. Although you think you should feel threatened, scared, or even timid around this man, you’re not. A level of trust and something akin to warmness washes over your body. As you approach the throne he extends his arm, holding a tattooed hand out towards you. He’s so much larger than you up close, and you admire his features as you place your tiny hand in his. Locking eyes, your breath hitches in anticipation. 

Who is this man? What does he want with you? And most importantly, why are we so similar? 

“You are made for me.” He answers, as if reading your mind. “My other half. My curse partner. My Queen.” Taking your hand, he places a soft kiss on top. You gasp as goosebumps make their way up the arm he holds. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, finally speaking. With a voice as sweet as honey, he almost groans out loud. With a pained expression, he releases your hand. 

“Let me explain your existence, my Queen.” Snapping his fingers, the ground begins to shake. He snakes his arm around your waist, holding you to him and keeping your balance. Looking around you notice things begin to shift. The dias the single throne sits upon extends in width. New flooring is built upon the end of old flooring. The dark red liquid begins to travel towards you both from down below. Eyes wide, you stare in awe as the fluid begins to form something in the space next to the original throne. You watch as the red liquid hardens into the same black obsidian that makes the throne the man sits on holding you. It only takes seconds, but the finished product is another chair right next to the man’s. Although identical in detail and look, it is slightly smaller to fit you comfortably. “Sit down and I will tell you all.” He says, motioning towards the chair. You take a seat, and he grabs both of your hands, facing each other. Looking into your eyes, he explains.

His name is Ryomen Sukuna. He tells you of his life, the man he once was. How he craved power, devotion, and how he was killed by other sorcerers. Once turned into a curse spirit, his power truly grew into something that could not be killed again. We were inside his domain and here, he can create, kill, and destroy anything he pleases. Which led his story to your existence. Lonely, he searched for a way to make a perfect partner. Someone that would understand his existence and power. That would want the same things he did. What other way to do that than by making you from a piece of himself? You were destined to be his, as he was destined for you. 

“Although your body is whole and complete, your power is not,” he explains. 

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“I was able to create your physical body quite easily. But for your power, there is another step. You can’t leave this domain until you have this power.” He releases one of your hands, taking the other and guiding you from your throne to his. Sitting you down in his lap, he goes on. “We must completely join for you to receive my power. Once that is done, you will be my true equal. My partner for eternity.” 

Wrapping his arm around your waist, you lock eyes with him and nod. “Yes, I want this.” And you did. You wanted the power, the glory; to be this curse’s life partner. For that is why you were made, isn’t it? You exist for each other. That’s why you felt no fear around him, even after listening to stories of his power and being. You completed one another. “Tell me what I must do,” you tell Sukuna, locking your arms around his strong neck. He smiles then. A smile so sharp and sinister, yet so magical the elated feelings reach his red eyes. 

“Come,” he says, leading you by the hand off the throne and behind the dias. Down a dark hall only lit by red flames, he leads you towards a large bed chamber. Once inside, he removes his robe completely. Since he faces the large black bed in the middle of the chamber, you admire his chiseled back and firm backside. Turning around, your eyes widen as you take in his form. Large, strong muscles with broad features face you. Shifting your eyes downward, his semi-erect twitches as you notice its size. “I will say, this is not my true form, but the form of my human host,” he interrupts your erotic thoughts. 

“It’s not?” You question. 

“No, but for the purpose of joining, I will remain in this form so as to not damage your body. That is, until you absorb some of my power,” he says grinning mischievously. “Come!” he booms, echoing through the room and guides you to the bed. 

You stand in front of the large structure, with the backs of your knees touching the soft black silk. Not wasting anymore time Sukuna takes your head in both of his hands and does what you’ve wanted to do since he kissed your hand back in the throne room: locked his lips with yours. You gasp into his mouth, welcoming his large tongue inside, battling it with your own. Twisting together, you shut your eyes and melt into him. A fire ignites inside your body, heat reaching your most sensitive place. With his patience running thin, Sukuna strips the dress from your body, revealing yourself to him. Taking a step back, he admires your body. “Y/N… I need to taste you.” he states. With eyes running wild, he pushes you down onto the bed and spreads your legs. 

Completely opening yourself to him, you whisper “Please… I need it.” And you did. You were wet for him. If you had panties on, they would be soaked through. He admired your wet cunt, glistening in the soft light provided by the lanterns in the room. 

“Watch me taste me you,” Sukuna says, locking eyes with your own. On his knees between your legs, he takes his hands and places them on your thighs. Spreading your knees far apart, he lays on his stomach and opens you to him. Finally dipping his head down, he licks a long stripe from bottom to top, earning a sigh from you. “As sweet as honey,” he whispers to himself as he leans back in. He eats you with reckless abandon. Like a starved man, he laps your juices as your sighs and gasps quickly turn into moans. Slipping a finger, then two inside of you he fingers your cunt slowly. Stretching you out and preparing you for something much bigger, his pace increasing as you feel yourself begin to build up an intense desire. Not taking anymore time, he latches his mouth onto your sensitive clit and circles it with his tongue. While he continues finger fucking you, your pleasure builds. Sukuna reaches up and pinches one of your peaked nipples, sending you over the edge. “Come for me, princess, finish on my face.” You scream his name, coming all over his mouth, making a mess and he loves it. He continues giving you kitten licks until you’ve somewhat come down from your high. 

Finally opening your eyes and sitting up, you watch him get to his knees and wipe his mouth with his arm. You then come face to face with his massive cock. You reach out to take it in your tiny hand by comparison, stroking it from the base to tip. Thick veins align the sides of his erection, followed by a blush pink top that leaked precum from its tip. It made your mouth water. Wanting to put it in your mouth, you finally give the tip a couple licks earning a soft groan from him. Needing more, you lean in to put it in your mouth. “If you do that, I’ll cum. And Daddy can’t wait,” he growls out.

With that, he flips you over on all fours. With your head down, your face feels the cool satin on your cheeks. Ass perched in the air, Sukuna admires his Queen. The one made for him. The one that will be his partner in power and life. The thought makes his erection pulse with need. He takes his cock and runs it up and down your slit, collecting your juices and coating himself with it. Taking your hips in his hands, he begins to enter you from behind. Stretching your hole over his large cock, he slowly pushes forward. You moan, relishing the stretch Sukuna gives you. He tries to contain himself, however once he was halfway in, he slams his hips into your soft backside and enters you down to the hilt. Screaming in both pain and pleasure you shifted forward. He must be over 10 inches long. The girth has you stretched wide open for him and you savor the feeling. 

“I can’t go slow for you, but I know you wouldn’t want that either way.” Sukuna says, pulling out and slamming back inside you. 

“No, I wouldn’t,” You respond. “Please, just fuck me.” 

You can sense the sinister smile he gives you. At that, his pace quickens. Fucking you from behind he doesn’t stop, wanting to hear you scream from him. The sound of skin slapping skin echoes in the room alongside your moans and his grunts. Squeezing your ass cheek with one hand, he takes the other and reaches down to circle your clit. You moan loudly.

“Come for me again. I want to hear you scream.” He says, pulling you up towards his chest. Your back meets his front as you listen to the bed squeak under both of you. Moving his hand from your hip he stops to palm your breast before making his way to your hair, gripping it and yanking your head to the side. “I said come for me princess,” he growls into your ear, hot breath sending wonderful shivers down your body. It sends you over the edge.

You scream, orgasm ripped from your body as he continues to fuck into you, his fingers on your clit have you shaking from release. Not wasting any time, Sukuna flips you onto your back and puts your knees up by your head, practically folding you in half.  Admiring you in the mating press, he slides his thick cock back inside you, fucking you through the end of your orgasm and stretching your release for as long as possible. Holding your knees back he slams back into your hole, using your body to chase his own release. 

“You take me so well, Y/N” he grunts. “Such a good girl, are you ready for my seed?” 

“Yes, give it to me, give it to me!” you scream in answer. 

“Then take it, take your power my Queen.” Locking eyes with yours, his hips slam into yours one last time as he finishes inside you. Filling you up you feel his hot release coat your walls as you milk him for every last drop. Eyes rolling to the back of your head you feel it. The pleasure from your orgasm, the love this curse gives you, and the power being absorbed into your body. Overwhelmed, you black out. 

You wake up covered in the black satin sheets. Looking over you notice Sukuna sitting by your side. As if waiting for you to wake up, he looks down at you with eyes filled with more emotion than you could process. He places his hand in yours and that’s when you feel it. The power. It surges to life from inside you like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You smiled up at him, a more sinister one to match his own. Leaping up you wrap your legs around his waist and kiss him. Running his hands through your hair he takes a handful and pulls your head back to admire you. Already feeling his erection grow, he grins down at you. “Forever begins today, my Queen.” 

Thank you for reading! Every Like & Reblog means the most. To send a request, please use the ask button through this page. <3

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #queenofcursesfanfic #queenofcursesjjk #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #Sukuna x you #Sukuna

[mysteria157]

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Black Fem Reader

CW: Profanity, Light Angst, Alcohol Consumption, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Cowgirl, Fingering, Fingersucking, Cunnilingus, Slight Dom Reader (not much), Car Sex, Bathroom Sex

WC: ~16k (It's long so get some snacks)

Summary: 

Maybe you're single for a reason. You’re too outspoken and mean to men, too demanding with your expectations, and you refuse to settle for less. For the ones who aren't worth the air they breathe, you chew them up and spit them out. You savor the taste so you know what to avoid the next time.

So when he looks down at you with that devilish smirk and calls you 'Princess', you're determined to prove that Toji Fushiguro is no exception.

Notes: Hello! This is my first fic with Toji and I'm nervous to get it out here. The setting of this fic and the elements I incorporated connect a lot with my own childhood and the memories (not the interactions in this fic) that I had at family cookouts and get-togethers. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon Header: myself (stability.ai)

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter | **Sequel**

**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**

“Can I get you a drink, princess?”

When you meet Toji Fushiguro for the first time, it’s on the fourth of July at your uncle’s house. It’s a big get-together at a two-story house located in the countryside. Every year he opens up his spacious home for a gathering of your extended family to bring excessive amounts of alcohol, play old school rap and R&B too loudly, devour delicious fucking food, and set off fireworks that have been collected since the beginning of the year. 

Your uncle has already made a home by the grill and taken control of the speakers after one of your younger cousins attempted to play something ‘a little too racy’ for his tastes. You’re pretty sure it was an Ice Cube song from the 90s that your uncle hates but is too proud to admit, so he lectures your cousin about ‘what young folks should be listening to’ instead. 

The smell of hamburgers and ribs has been teasing your nose for the past hour, and your hunger is borderline unbearable with each sniff. You avoid the allure of the long table of food because if you look, you’ll be three plates in before the meat is done. There’s coleslaw, baked beans, greens, and macaroni and cheese. Your favorite aunt also brought her potato salad and you know she’s going to make yellow cake with chocolate frosting fresh before the fireworks. You love it so much and you were deprived of it last year when you were called in to work at the last minute. You will get some today.

The backyard is expansive and well-maintained, and your cousins and aunts have already laid their claim on swanky cushions of the nice patio furniture. 

The one cousin you’re closest to in age and personality sits next to you on a large blanket a few yards away from the rising volume of your extended family. You were able to get a good ten minutes of conversation from her before her fiancé showed up and made a home inside of her mouth.

Your family normally has something to say about PDA—a stupid quip about acting ‘too grown’ even though you are both knocking on the door of thirty. But she doesn’t care—just like you, that’s why you like her so much even though her fiancé is sucking on her face like it’s his last day on Earth.

Shiu Kong is nice—gentle in his own way and carries himself with a bored air that seems to pull your cousin in. He’s enamored with her, practically folds in on himself when she’s around, and worships the ground she walks on. They’ve been together for a few years and you’ve never had a problem with him.

But that just might change today because he’s brought along a friend who has already ignited a flame of arousal and annoyance deep within your belly. From the moment Toji Fushiguro stepped into the backyard with Shiu, your family was transfixed. Your aunts can’t stop ogling, and your uncles and male cousins try to jokingly size him up.

“Oh honey why don’t you sit down, don’t be shy. Lemme get you something to drink.”

“That’s not steroids? It’s gotta be. Don’t play.”

“How much you bench?”

It’s annoying. So fucking annoying but you can’t help but agree. He’s a little older—maybe early thirties—but dangerously attractive.

Raven hair that reaches his ears, looks unbelievably soft and falls over emerald green eyes. A grey shirt hugs him too fucking deliciously for your comfort and dark jeans hug an ass that’s too fucking juicy. He’s a big man—a burly man and unfortunately, that’s how you like them.

Big, burly like a bear, respectful, and capable of making you feel small and protected but also valuing and worshipping you as a woman. Unfortunately, such men are hard to come by because you tend to intimidate them. You don’t tolerate disrespect in any form and quickly put men in their place if they try to undermine, belittle, or confuse protection with control. You know what you want, and you refuse to settle for less. 

They can’t stand it.

And right now, you can’t stand Toji. As he looks down at you with a well-worn smirk on his face, a smirk that suggests he has plenty of experience in situations like this, your irritation grows. He’s a smooth talker, confident in almost everything he says. His voice is deep, but melodic in a strangely feminine way that makes his words slide like silk down your back, and the minute you heard it, your thighs threatened to rub together. 

Definitely a smooth talker. But the nickname you don’t care for. 

Princess.

Like you’re a dainty little thing who will bat her eyelashes and call him Daddy. It makes your walls of self-defense rise even higher, and the gentle smile you had given Shiu when he first said hello moments ago transforms into the beginnings of a frown. 

Without hesitation, you rise to your feet, plant your wedges firm into the grass, and turn away from them before muttering, “I’m good.”

Toji simply shrugs; a gesture that annoys you even more because he doesn’t offer any other reaction that satisfies you. He settles into your previously vacated spot, leaning back on his hands. The jacket on his shoulders falls open and the sight of his shirt hugging his muscles is too much for you.

You inwardly curse as your eyes wander over his physique. Thick pectorals that you could easily rub your face against and make a pillow for yourself to sleep on stretch the fabric in a way that you’re sure it’ll rip. Abdominals tease just below the surface of his shirt that clings to him like a second skin. You want to lick between each one, press your teeth into the hard skin to make him wince and beg as you count each one.

Four, six, eight? 

Fuck.

You don’t show how you want to straighten your spine against the chill of being caught staring. That smirk is on his face again, tugging at the corner of his mouth. There’s a scar on the right side that slashes vertically over his top and bottom lip and you dislike the arousal that begins to boil between your legs from the sight. You wonder how he got it. If it was a fight, did he win? The thought of him wrestling another man to the floor and taking a cut to the face in the process shouldn’t arouse you, but god it does. 

His eyes make you think of moss as you watch them slide up your body, and it almost feels like invisible hands caressing you. They’re large and pale, littered with scars along the knuckles as they glide up your exposed chocolate legs, dip between your inner thighs, and caress the curves of your hips.

“See something you like?” 

He’s ogling you but has the nerve to try and put you on the spot? You have enough self-control to let logic worm through the rising lust inside of you. You sneer down at him, sharp enough for Shiu to visibly pale and your cousin to giggle at.

“To be honest, I don’t really see much.”

You don’t give him a chance to retort and you pretend not to hear the soft hum of nonchalance he throws back. You walk away from them, turning just in time to shield the way your eyes widen at the feel of your face and neck prickling with heat.

The moment you close the bathroom door inside your uncle’s house, the breath trapped within your lungs escapes in a rush. You press your forehead against the wood and the coolness of it offers only little relief to the burning of your skin. 

You turn your head and press your cheek against the wood so the cold surface can slide along your cheek as you open your eyes to take in your reflection.

Of course, Toji would ogle you. You’re confident enough to know your beauty.

A red sundress that hugs your curves, stops at your mid-thighs. Knotless braids with curled ends are piled on top of your head in a loose bun with a few strands that spill along your hairline.

You’re good-looking. But you’ve been out of practice with a man for a long time. Your last relationship ended when you caught him balls-deep in your coworker. You’re too shy to pursue a one-night stand and not detached enough for a situationship. 

However, you could risk it all for Toji and you hate that you’re entertaining the thought. You hate that you’re imagining him barging into the bathroom, bending you over the counter, and taking you from behind with his large hand digging into the small of your back and whispering how much of a good girl you are as you beg him to cum.

God, get yourself together.

To calm yourself down, you find solace in your uncle’s quiet kitchen. There’s only one person occupying it, your favorite aunt, who is heavily pregnant and working on the yellow cake that you’ve been thinking about all day. You use the opportunity to distract yourself and take over for her, shooing her away to relax in the backyard. 

You crack an egg against the off-white countertop, fractures splitting up the sides before spilling its contents into the silver mixing bowl in front of you. A self-deprecating thought slithers in your ears, and whispers loudly with wicked intention. 

Toji wouldn’t want a woman like you.

You’re too outspoken and mean to men, too demanding with your expectations. It pushes them all away, and although you normally take pride in keeping away those who aren’t worth your time, it can get lonely. 

To see your ex actively cheating on you was icing on a cake that was slowly cooking in an oven of your own self-doubt. You have standards, and while your friends consider you the voice of reason in their misfortunes with men, most members of your family think you’re too picky. You’re too much work, ‘you think you know everything’. 

“Men will always have a wandering eye, it’s up to you to keep them in check, girl.”

“Honey, I love you, but the more you pick apart a man, the less he will want to be around you.”

“They love it when you cook for them, girl. Take care of your man and keep him fed and you’ll keep him forever.”

Bullshit.

It’s bullshit to take care of a man in the same way his own mother does. It’s bullshit to lose all sense of self and independence, to wait on a man when he gives you less than nothing in return—when he can hardly give you the bare minimum. You don’t mind cooking for a man who takes care of you, who loves and values you, who would never hold you back and would encourage you when you can hardly encourage yourself.

But all the good ones are in relationships now, married with a few kids, and in your resolve to stay strong and weed out the bad to find the good, it’s left you a little bitter.

Most black families are old school, and yours is no exception. They hold ‘for better or worse’ a little too close to their heart. They cling to an ideal that a man runs the household down to the basics in a way that makes you uneasy and in your defense, you snap when you’re backed into a corner.

You love them, you truly do, but they probably will never understand just how aware you are of the world and how little you are willing to put up with the problematic things that others consider normal.

Your ex was great at first. But he got comfortable. And when he got comfortable, he got lazy, a little too controlling, and a little too frustrated when you asked for certain things in the bedroom. The only person who knows about your breakup is your mother, who had the gall to be out of the country for work, leaving you to fend for yourself for today. 

You watch as the batter spills on each side of your wooden spoon, parting and then falling back together like sand. In your reverie, you don’t notice a few of your relatives who have now entered the kitchen and are roaming through the fridge. You can hear one of your least favorite aunts—the bitchy one—playfully joking with someone, and whatever drivel comes out of her mouth makes that person laugh. It’s deep and suave enough to make a tingle of electricity stutter down your spine because you know it’s him.

Refusing to look in their direction, you continue mixing the batter until the lumps disappear.

“You been hiding in this kitchen for awhile now,” your aunt begins, Atlanta accent the most grating it’s ever been as she turns her gaze toward you. “You’re normally a little more talkative when your man is here. He not coming?”

There is not a trace of genuine concern in her tone. You and her bicker often; she presses your buttons and then gets mad when you press back. Your ex’s infidelity is ammunition you don’t want to give her, but being caught in a lie is something she would only treasure more to use against you later. 

You clear your throat and turn the spoon in the batter once, then twice before answering without looking her way.

“No, he actually came inside of my coworker a few weeks ago. So we split up.”

You can feel the noise before you hear it—a characteristic and sharp ‘mmm’ that seems to be ingrained in your family’s DNA. It makes your grip tighten on the wooden spoon, and you scrape along the bottom of the bowl until it screeches on the metal.

“You gotta watch out for this one, Toji. She’s always been an outspoken one. Too good for ‘em all and likes to be a little mean to her men.”

You scrape harder and then turn to her, a sickly sweet smile plastered on your face. 

“You’re right. The fact that I won’t settle for someone who will get bored with me after a few years makes me way too good for them. Should have turned the other cheek just like you did with your last husband. Or…was it the one before him?”

You catch the way Toji pulls his lips in to bite down on them, scar twitching as he fights to hold in a snicker.

Your aunt glares at you, purses her lips, and turns them to the side before pulling in a noise that has been passed down for generations. Her mother and her mother’s mother used the very same tactic to strike fear and insignificance in their children when they talked back. It’s a sucking of air between her teeth and the sound makes years of discipline from your own mother flash in your mind like you’re in the trenches of war. 

You know she wants to say something, and you can taste the ‘you always got something to say’ in the air before Toji slides from his perch against the counter and places a hand on your aunt’s shoulder.

“Let’s get you a drink, huh? Didn’t you say you wanted me to try the beer you brought in?” She throws you a knowing glare before letting Toji lead her away; because if there is one thing that will distract her from showing out, it’s letting a good-looking man touch her.

The shaking in your hands helps you sift in the dry ingredients—a mix of sugar, flour, and baking soda—into the batter. The breaths through your nostrils are heavy and thick with anger, and the corners of your eyes sting with heat. You whip the batter harder than necessary, your aunt’s words replaying in your mind like a broken record.

Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. Don’t—

The sight of a can of hard seltzer pressing onto the counter in front of you makes the ramblings in your mind stop. Familiar long fingers unfurl from the can and slide on the counter, their fingertips touching the edges of your mixing bowl in an effort to get to you.

“I would have given you a bottle of beer. But I had a feeling you might bash it over your aunt’s head.” He’s not wrong, and in your frustrated state, you consider his defense admirable. “I like a fight, but I’m a guest and the food looks good.” 

Your grip on the spoon loosens slightly as Toji leans casually against the refrigerator, arms crossed over bulging biceps that stretch the short sleeves of his shirt. His jacket is now gone, and you can’t help but notice the veins in his forearms that protrude, tempting you to lick against them.

It takes the sheer will to tear your eyes away and focus on pouring the batter into the bundt cake mold, observing as it fills the intricate crevices. 

“So he cheated? Most men are pigs.”

“But not you, huh?” you can’t help but retort, shaking the mold to disperse the air pockets that bubble on the surface.

In your peripheral, he shrugs. “I know what I like in a woman and once I get what I want, it makes no sense to look somewhere else unless she wants me gone. I’m a man…but I’m a loyal man.”

When you meet his emerald gaze, you can see a hint of pain and vulnerability that unsettles you, tilts you back on your heels from the force of his honesty. You reach for the can of seltzer and take a long swig to give yourself time to get your thoughts in order. The carbonation is sweet and fizzles along the sides of your tongue and down your throat. 

“So what is it you like in a woman, Toji?”

It’s a question that probably should have been left untouched, but your curiosity overpowers your restraint. You don’t want to go back outside, because if your aunt is still feeling particularly petty, she will say something that will only make you leave. And you don’t feel like letting your family win today. 

Toji’s strong gaze certainly isn’t helping. Those invisible hands slide along the crevices and dips of your body, stroking the small of your back before pressing featherlight against the back of your neck. The hairs rise in response, your skin prickling with gooseflesh. 

Unexpectedly, he pushes off the refrigerator and walks closer to you, and you’re too shocked to back away. Despite his imposing stature, you know he won’t harm you. There’s something about him that’s warm and inviting, soft and tender even though his exterior is hard lines and muscle. The two of you are now mere inches apart, and the air feels thin as if you’ve reached the summit of a mountain and struggle to breathe due to the change in altitude. 

Jet black locks graze against a rough cheek, the tips kissing the raised scar on the side of his mouth. Up close you can see his features more closely. His eyes are sharp and intense with deep green between his lids as if hiding a pearl in an oyster. Thin eyebrows make him look more serious and cutting and you’re swallowing back drool because your nose picks up a faint whiff of woodsy amber emitting from his body. It smells cheap—he’s put together in the most basic sense—but it still smells…good.

“I like a woman who knows what she’s about. Independent and doesn’t fuck around. Smart and pretty with curves I can grab and squeeze. Someone with some sass and isn’t afraid to put anyone in their place.”

He steps closer and your lungs heave in a desperate attempt to pull in air. The brush of the wall against your back makes you stutter out your exhale and you press your palms flat against the cool surface to keep you grounded.

“I like a woman with nice creamy brown skin that smells a little like the cake she’s baking…” Through the sea of delirium, you distantly realize that he’s describing you. “The red dress definitely is a bonus.”

That familiar smirk pulls against his lips again and your heart is thundering in your chest. You would be surprised if he couldn’t see it thumping erratically beneath the skin between what’s exposed of your cleavage. 

But this is just another trick in their book to get you in their bed. Or in the bathroom. Or over the kitchen counter.

And as much as you want to, you can’t give in. Because you’ll hate yourself tomorrow.

So you tilt your chin up at him and narrow your eyes at his amused expression. 

“Describing me in place of your ‘ideal woman’? That’s boring. Go use it on my bitchy aunt, she’s got fillers in her ass so that’s more curves for you to ‘grab and squeeze’ when she throws herself on you after the Hennessey kicks in.”

Toji’s eyes widen slightly before a harsh laugh barks from his mouth. It’s surprisingly nice on your ears and rattles the drums inside in a way that you don’t dislike. He pulls away from you, giving you a few more inches of space and the altitude in the air seems to level out enough for you to take an inconspicuous deep breath. 

“Nah, nothing against fillers, but I’m more of a natural man myself,” he admits.

“Cellulite and stretch marks?” you ask with a lift of a brow, teasing but…mildly curious.

You watch as that smile slowly slides on his face, teeth glittering and eyebrows raising. He looks like he’s hit the jackpot. 

“The whole package, princess.”

Biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile, you push down the lingering arousal in your stomach, refusing to let it simmer. He’s funny and you appreciate a man who loves the raw and often overlooked intricacies of a woman.

His response is disorienting, throwing you off balance, and you’re unsure of what to do next. Your usual response is to talk back, to take delight in a man fumbling when his own cards have been turned against him. But you can’t think of anything right now. 

You move around him to place the bundt cake mold into the oven, setting a timer with the plastic buttons above the stove. Snatching the seltzer from the counter, you lean back against the oven, putting a considerable distance between the two of you to think. 

Toji mimics your movements, retreating to the fridge to relax against it, folding his arms across his chest, and god he still takes up the room. Even though you’re further away, it still seems like you can smell the cologne as if it’s sitting right on the skin below your nose.

“Do your moves always work on women?” you ask before taking a good swig of your seltzer.

He shrugs in response and turns around to dig a beer from the fridge. You don’t bother to hold back the urge to leer at him. You want to grab his ass, listen to him squeal in surprise, and blush in embarrassment when you squeeze. The thought of digging your fingers into the skin of it as he fucks you nice and slow makes your mind short circuit, a computer rebooting and making a loud noise before frying out indefinitely.

“On the rare occasion that I happen to use them, yes they always work. But…obviously not on you.”

“I’m not easy to win over. You need to be worth my time.” Your eyes flicker up to his face before he turns around to face you.

He takes a swig of his beer and you watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow. The column of his throat is long and pale and you want to slide your tongue along the side to taste the saltiness of his skin.

“What’s it going to take?”

His interest in you is admirable, and a small part of you is giddy with the attention. But you’re nervous to give him an inch when most are quick to take a mile.

“I have a name so stop calling me princess. I’m not a royal, so unless you’re offering me land, money, or power, I don’t want to hear it.”

He barks out another laugh, his thick chest shaking and eyes closing as he throws his head back. You despise how good it sounds and you’re reminded of these moments when men seem so beautiful and wonderful before the ugliest parts of them are visible.

“What else?” he inquires, still chuckling as he takes another long sip.

“If you’re expecting sex from me, think again. I don’t do one-night stands or friends with benefits. It’s messy and I just don’t have the strength for it.”

He seems to consider your remark as if he has no choice but to weigh your stipulation before signing a contract. Then he smirks that devilish smirk that makes your cunt pulse between your thighs when you know damn well it shouldn’t. You cannot be this turned on by this man.

“Not even if I have a big dick?” he teases.

He’s annoying and you’re mildly disgusted but still willing to banter with him, so you grimace and roll your eyes. “What, you want me to take a look first before I make up my mind?”

He full-on grins, the fucker. “If that’s what it takes.”

But in true fashion, you bounce back with your own quip. “Public indecency is a crime and I also don’t like to look at cock until after I’ve eaten something. It’s nauseating.”

Laughter erupts from him once again, loud and boisterous that it seems to shake the oven against your back. He probably thinks you’re joking. But you’re not. Dick already looks alien. Looking at dick on purpose without any sense of arousal is pathological behavior. 

Your heart flips in your chest when he pushes off the refrigerator again, taking a swig of his beer as he saunters to you and the sight is criminal. Your fingers dig just slightly into the metal can in your hands, a faint pop emanating from it. 

“What are you bothering me for anyway,” you can’t help but ask, frustration coating your words as you frown more at yourself than at Toji. “I have so many other cousins here who are single and would love to get their hands on you.”

At first, he doesn’t respond, and in the silence, you struggle to take a full breath again. You don’t like that he’s so close to you, but you also love the way he smells and the way he looks at you as if you’re someone and not something to fucking eat. You’re a fucking mess. 

His head tilts slightly, and his hair follows the movement, brushing against his cheeks as his eyes take you in instead of scrutinizing you. 

The air feels thin again, and you ready yourself to leave when your pregnant aunt suddenly barges back into the kitchen and stops short at the scene. Toji takes a slow step back, not really bothering to fumble at being so close to you. You’re sure he doesn’t really care.

She’s your favorite for a reason because she understands. She’s not dismissive and mean and she simply smiles knowingly at you both before gesturing with her head towards the backdoor.

“Time to eat. Honey, why don’t you show Toji what’s what before your uncles steal everything.”

***

He stays close to you when you both make it outside, and you do your best to ignore your bitchy aunt’s gaze from her perch in one of the patio chairs. The spread of food makes your mouth water and you waste no time grabbing a plate for yourself and absentmindedly handing Toji one as well.

“I’ve never had some of this before,” he admits, and his voice is a little apprehensive from next to you as he takes everything in. It makes sense, this is probably his first cookout…his first black cookout at least. Strangely, you’re proud to be the one to guide him along.

“What is this?” he asks, pointing to the heavy helping of greens and ham hocks on his plate minutes later. You’re both at a small table alone and away from the noise.

“Collard greens…it’s a cabbage that’s cooked in a pot for a few hours with spices and broth. The ham hocks give it flavor, cook it before you add the greens so the meat falls off the bone better.” 

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as Toji gives them a wayward glance, an arch of a thin brow that makes his features more handsome than they should be, and then he takes a tentative bite before moaning sinfully in appreciation. The vertebrae of your spine lock in place, stiff with a sudden chill at the noise as you picture it slipping from his lips while you ride him until the hinges fall off. 

You take your own bite to stop anything stupid from coming out of your mouth.

You figure he has to eat to accommodate for his size but to see it in action is something else entirely. He finishes two plates in fifteen minutes and as he makes his way to get another serving, your bitch of an aunt speaks up from across the lawn.

“Why don’t you get up and get him another plate?”

Why don’t you shut the fuck up?

You grip the plastic fork in your hand tightly, digging into your diminishing potato salad and swallowing the vile that you want to throw her way. 

Make your man a plate before you make yours, get him a drink, get him another helping so he doesn’t have to, keep him fed.

Maybe this is why you’re single. You want to scream. You want—

“Don’t listen to her. You’re still eating, don’t move,” he levels, and you don’t miss the hint of irritation in his own voice as he gets up. “The same seltzer as before?” he asks, pointing to your drink that you didn’t realize was empty.

“I—”, you fumble before clearing your throat. “I like the strawberry one…if there’s any left.”

He shoots a wink your way and your body ignites with heat.

Your cousin worms her way over when Toji disappears, and you try your best to ignore the sly look on her face.

“Defending your honor from our bitchy aunt? My, my, the perfect recipe for your feminist heart.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you growl, shoving the last of the potato salad in your mouth. 

“He’s Shiu’s best friend. Moved here from Japan a few months ago and is living in the same city as you. It could be fate? You want his number?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap again, feeling exasperated but knowing that unless Shiu is here to stop her, she will talk until she’s tired or you’re swinging at her.

She giggles, undeterred and gearing up for more. “He’s single too. And you’ve got all our other cousins mad as hell because he won’t leave you alone.” You don’t reply, because you’re mildly intrigued and impressed with yourself. It’s nice to have the attention from someone so attractive; it’s just figuring out if he’s genuine that’s the headache. “When the music gets louder tonight…or when the fireworks go off, take him upstairs and fuck him on—”

“Didn’t I say—fuck you.”

She guffaws, loud and unabashed and it pulls a smile from the side of your mouth. You know she doesn’t mean it, you know that at gatherings like these, you’re the black sheep and she just wants you to enjoy yourself.

“Seriously though, cousin. Shiu doesn’t keep many around, but they’ve been friends since they were kids. That’s a good sign right?”

There’s some merit to it, but you still want to be careful.

And Toji Fushiguro makes it hard for you to be careful because he wants you around him all the time and is unashamed to show it. 

Later in the night when the music is booming old school hip hop that your uncle won’t shut up about (he’s drunk), your other uncles—and a few cousins they will definitely con—have a table already bustling with spades. At first, you’re unsure how they convinced Toji to join, but he’s partnered with one of your cousins who has no clue about the game, and you realize they just want Toji to lose so they can feel good.  

Feeling curious, you pretend to bring Toji a beer. He’s frowning down at the cards, irritated with his lips curled into a small scowl and your cousin is trying to act like he knows what to do, but his stupidity is palpable even from where you stand.

You offer him a beer and ignore the fact that the one on the table is still full. When he looks up at you, his sharp eyes hold you like a vice, frustration evaporating quickly before opportunity takes its place.

“Help me.” He doesn’t bother to hide the confusion in his voice and you can’t help the way your stomach flips. 

One of your uncle’s snickers. “She doesn’t know how to play.” You do. “But she can try.”

You’re so annoyed, and you want to snap at him but Toji is pulling you closer to him with a muscular arm before you can. You’re in his lap before you know it, sitting precariously on a thick thigh with your back pressed against a broad chest and you can’t breathe again. The fluctuating altitudes are making you lightheaded.

Any other time and you wouldn’t hesitate to turn around and knock a man’s teeth in for grabbing you. But against your better judgment, you relax into Toji instead. His cheap cologne smells way too fucking good, he’s so big and warm against your body and your throat is drying up like you’ve taken a big breath in the middle of the Sahara.

“Don’t grab me like that,” you can’t help but grumble, only mildly put off.

“I improvised.” It’s a feeble excuse wrapped around a heavenly chuckle in your ear and you pray to whoever is listening, mentally offering up a sacrificial lamb, anything to ensure you don’t drip all over his thigh. “Now help me win.”

You do. Three times. He's adamant about winning and you're sure he has a gambling problem. And if your legs go a little numb from sitting on his thigh or if you lean into the way his outside hand slides to hold the curve of your waist, you don’t complain about it.

***

“You don’t dance?” Toji asks an hour later, joining you on the blanket that you occupied when you first arrived. It’s almost sunset, and the orange of the sky covers half of the backyard as your family revels in their merriment.

You shrug at Toji’s question, gazing at members of your family who are dancing in the yard. One of your loudest uncles is boasting about the music as he teaches one of your cousins dance steps. That used to be you so many years ago, and the moves are like muscle memory as you watch them. One of your aunts takes over the stereo, beginning what will surely be an hour of reminding everyone of the greatest hits. 

You suddenly realize that it’s just you and Toji on the blanket. Your cousin and Shiu are off god knows where, and given her penchant for being a rebellious freak, she’s probably riding him on your uncle’s bed. The thought makes you shudder.

“Are you cold?” he probes, pulling you out of your thoughts.

It is cooler now, but that’s not why you were shivering. You’re ready to tell him no, to start shaking your head even as you watch him pull his own jacket off to place it over your shoulders. His hands smooth over your shoulders and down your arms as if securing it closer to your skin and your blood boils beneath your cheeks. Your skin isn’t light enough to show when you’re blushing, but you’re burning with nervousness.

“Stop being so nice to me,” you hiss instinctively, regretting the words as soon as they leave your mouth. The surprise is evident on his face and you immediately feel guilty. “I’m—I’ll only be mean to you in return.”

For the first time of the night, he looks angry. His eyebrows dip, the scar on his cheek twists with the harsh frown on his lips and he gives a severe ‘tch’ that makes you gape at him. “Why because you’re mean to men?” he snaps, impatient and free of any tease. 

It raises your hackles instantly, and you’re talking back before you know it. “Exactly. So why don’t you take a hint and stop trying to get into my pants—”

You feel a rough finger on the side of your cheek turn you further towards him, preventing you from looking at anything else.

“You just don’t like bullshit. Stop acting up and let me be nice to you.” 

For once, you don’t have anything to say even though your hand is twitching with the urge to slap the words from his mouth. You want to. It’s easy for you to fight back and push them away, you’re good at it. But you can’t fight the way his gaze seems to calm you down against your better judgment.

You pull your face from his hold and roll your shoulders, sliding out of his sharp gaze and turning back to your lively family. One of your cousins is arguing about why the Cowboys didn’t make it into the playoffs, and now everyone has something to say.

You pull in a deep breath, scolding yourself to relax just a little. He hasn’t been so bad, and you’re not one to make things intentionally difficult if a man is honestly trying. You’re still apprehensive about his intentions…but he is trying without being a beast. So you exhale your frustrations into the July air, calm down so your heart can steady its frantic pounding from the lingering scent of his cologne, and dig your fingers into your uncle’s well-kept grass.

“Fine. If I let you be nice to me…what would be the next thing you would say?”

You can’t look at him, but you feel his eyes on your body as you pluck a few blades of grass from the soil. The strands slide against the pads of your fingertips, rough and threatening to cut, before fluttering in the breeze when you release them. 

He’s grabbing you again, tenderly but possessively, sliding you into his embrace so your back is to his muscular chest, his chin rests on the side of your temple and his arms wrap around your waist. Your heart is back to leaping in your chest, pumping loud and fast in your ears, drowning out the music and arguing as if you’re underwater.

“How about you tell me about your family?” he suggests, voice unmuffled through the thickness of your hearing.

It’s a random ask, as if he wants to impress them, as if you’ve been dating for a long period of time and he wants to be prepared to meet them for the first time. The thought doesn’t leave a bad taste in your mouth, even though you know it would never be a reality anyway. You don’t know if he’s just joking and frankly, the feel of him against you is warmer than his jacket on your shoulders and you don’t want to leave.

So, if it means he can stay put, you give in. You tell him about your aunts, uncles, and cousins—where they are from and what they do. You share your traditions when you all get together and the small intricacies you all share. It’s incredibly personal…maybe even too intimate. But he listens, and hums to let you know he’s paying attention, and asks you questions as you talk.

Eventually, his cheek rests on the crown of your head against your braids and you surprisingly don’t mind at all. When you notice his arms wrapped around you, you get a better view of the scars on his arms and fingers, and there is a rising urge to ask how he got each one.

“So she’s been married twice?” his voice is low in your ear so you can only hear him in the noisy backyard. His breath smells faintly of the beer he finished an hour ago, and it slides along the skin of your neck hot and thick. You resist the urge to cant your neck to the side to give his breath more room to roam.

You nod. “She got the fillers after the first husband. Those brought in the second husband. Then he left her for some girl in Cali.”

“Cali?’ he questions, confused.

You snort softly. “California.” You elbow him and the bone slides against hard muscle. Dammit. “You don’t know your states?”

“I’m foreign, not stupid.” The laugh that bubbles from your chest is sharp and you can’t help the smile that pulls against your cheeks from it. “I know my states!” He sounds truly annoyed and for some reason that makes you laugh harder. “Florida, Kansas—”

“I’m not asking you to prove yourself!” you sputter around a giggle, shaking in his embrace. But he’s not listening.

“Montana, New York…there’s another one…the big one.”

You gawk, turning just a little to crane your head up at him. He looks down at you with an embarrassed expression, his cheeks a little rosy even though his lips are flickering with the urge to laugh. 

“I beg your finest pardon…the big one?”

The side of his face twists in the nastiest way, and he’s angry at being questioned. “Don’t—it’s the one down below!”

“In relation to what?”

His eyes narrow, emerald barely noticeable between thick lashes. You can sense his hold on you tightening slightly, his chest stutters in a huff and you realize with rising glee that he’s pouting. Normally you would revel in this…but—

“Texas,” you find yourself speaking up at him, voice soft and gentle on the edges. “The big one down below is Texas.”

He simply hums, his chest vibrating against your back, but his gaze is smoldering, taking you in and dipping down to your lips before flickering back up your eyes. You’re too hot now, his jacket against your skin too suffocating, your heart beating too fast against your ribcage.

You hate just how rebellious you like to be. “What, you gonna kiss me?”

The challenge is fleeting across his features and he leans down so quickly that you don’t have time to react. Your stomach flips with irritation at the implication that he would take from you without asking, and suddenly, you no longer want him touching you.

“I wouldn’t take it without asking,” he whispers in the small space between you both as if reading your thoughts. The tips of his raven locks brush against your cheek, there’s a slight kink in your neck from how you are looking up at him, but he’s so close that you don’t care. One of his hands skims up from your waist, caressing the curve of your ribs, and his thumb teasingly runs along the underside of your clothed breast. His touch is reactive in you, and you angle your body further into his actions. His gaze remains locked on yours, absorbing your very being without doing a thing and you’re fighting to stay in control.

“So can I?” he asks, voice deep with temptation. “Kiss you?”

You swallow the bucket of drool that has somehow pooled in the back of your throat in seconds. The thumping of your heart no longer fills your ears, replaced now by a deafening ringing, spurred by your growing desire as you open your mouth to respond. 

“I…depends…are you any good?”

He nonchalantly shrugs, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as his scarred lips twist into a smirk. He’s completely calm and you can tell if you told him no, he would leave it alone entirely. But he’s enjoying this, you can see it all over his face.

“Jury’s still out.”

You don’t trust yourself to say ‘yes’. Some part of you feels like if it comes out of your mouth, it will sound too desperate and you want to stay in control as much as you can. But, you could give yourself this. You’ve earned it. Just one kiss and then you could hide away until the fireworks and then use the noise as a cover to leave. After all, he’s hot. He’s been so nice and honest and the warning siren in your mind has long faded.

You deserve a reward.

So you nod, stiffly but enough for him to notice, and the air seems to thin out again when he leans in a little more.

“Toji!” one of your uncles calls out, severing through the heavy cloud of lust between you both like a knife. You recoil from his touch, his touch now only making you itchy, and you pull from his embrace so that his arms unravel and his jacket slides off your shoulders. The cooler air is freezing this time against your skin. “Come help me with the fireworks, would you?”

You don’t pay attention to his response, because you’re already up on your feet and making your way inside the house. Your body floods with the embarrassment and shame of being caught by your family…kissing a man that you’ve just met. You know you shouldn’t care…but it’s so easy for their behavior to rub off on you when you feel vulnerable.

***

Thankfully, no one is in the kitchen when you finally make it inside. The music dulls down when you close the backyard door and the ringing in your ears is now silent. 

You resolve to stay inside until the fireworks go off. No one is really paying attention to you anyway—most of them are drunk, others too absorbed in the music and gossip so it’s a perfect chance for you to duck away and show your face again next year.

Should you tell Toji goodbye?

No.

No, you hardly know the man. Just a few hours in good company and a kiss that almost happened that you probably would have let escalate. You probably would have let his tongue slide into your mouth. Probably would have let him pull you into one of the spare rooms, eat you out until you’re seeing stars, and then bend you over the edge of the bed to fuck you until he—

For fuck’s sake.

You yank open one of the kitchen cabinets in search of a glass. You need water because your body is piping hot. There’s a sheen of sweat on your neck beneath the layer of braids that fell when Toji laid his cheek on your head, and your hands are slick as they press into the counter to give you strength to peek into one of the lower shelves. Of course, the only one in the cabinet would be on the highest shelf. Of course, you’re too fucking short.

You climb onto the counter, knees digging into the off-white surface as you lift yourself up and peer into one of the higher shelves. You spot a glass, and you can have a heaping glass to cool yourself off enough to get you home. And then you can just use your vibrator once and go to sleep. Or twice. Or maybe a third time to get the thought of him out of your mind for the foreseeable future. 

Unbeknownst to you, he’s standing behind you. You didn’t even hear the back door open and close. But you catch a glimpse of a long, muscular arm reaching past your ear to grab the glass. You’re frozen, your fingers digging into the wooden shelf, unable to turn around and face him, even though you can feel his gaze hot on your skin.

Your plan is shattered, and you have no choice but to come up with an excuse to leave him. You’re combing through scenarios in your mind as you slowly slide down and perch yourself on the countertop, finally facing him. He places the glass on the counter, away from you, and closes the distance between you until the ridges of his clothed abs brush against your knees. His hands are searing against your skin as they rest on your knees and you watch his thumbs trace an obscure pattern with a touch that is featherlight. 

“Your uncle interrupted us,” Toji finally speaks, his voice carrying a hint of hopefulness despite his attempt to maintain a neutral expression. His gaze, so harsh and sharp, is alluring in its own way, tempting you to relax the steady clench of your thighs.

“It probably wasn’t a good idea anyway,” you chuckle, self-deprecation rising to the surface of your skin and prickling against the pores.

“Why not?”

Maybe because you would be too much for him and scare him away? Maybe the fear of being too demanding in bed, of not being able to stop once he kisses you, lingers in your thoughts, making the idea of having him only once and never again infuriating.

“I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. I’ll get you water and let you sneak away when the fireworks go off because I know you want to…even though you shouldn’t give a fuck about what your family thinks…but I would really like that kiss.”

Analyzing his features, you take in the sincerity reflected in the moss-green of his eyes. It’s a last-ditch effort to make sure something else isn’t hiding there, and you find yourself coming up short.

Slowly, you part your legs for him to stand between. His hands slide up your thighs tantalizingly slow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake before pushing the fabric of your red sundress up to your waist. You try to ignore the way the cool air on your panties does little to quell the heat radiating from them. His hands wrap around your waist and a gasp heaves from your lips when he yanks you to him, your thighs brushing the sides of his thick waist. 

One of the hands on your waist trails up to the side of your neck, gently tilting your head up, so you can look fully at him as his thumb traces the skin of your bottom lip.

“You better make it good,” you challenge, hoping your faux annoyance can mask the anticipation building in your gut.

He sees right through it and simply hums before he leans down to finally seal his lips against yours. He’s a big man, an overwhelming man, and you feel it in his kiss as his lips take every ounce of breath you have in your lungs. He tastes like the pound yellow cake that everyone got to before you could and a hint of beer and it’s the perfect combination that you want more of. 

His hands are under your dress, brushing beneath your thighs for traction and pulling you impossibly closer to the point where you feel your clothed center brush against the zipper of his jeans. You dig your hands into the fabric of his shirt, twisting and silently commanding for him to give you more. You open your mouth to coax him and his tongue is wet and insistent against yours.

You can feel your resolve dissipating in the air, fizzling against the heat that radiates from your body and your self-control is walking on a tightrope, precariously and seconds away from falling. And once it’s gone, you’ll be a woman unhinged.

He yanks you to him again as if its not enough, harder this time with a growl in the back of his throat that makes you gasp into his mouth, then rolls his hips against yours and behind his zipper you feel him hard and bulging and angry and oh—

You pull away with a harsh breath, gasping for air and biting back a moan that gurgles in your throat when his mouth works its way down the skin of your neck. Your skin is sensitive, and it buzzes with the touch of his lips and invokes a fervent need so deep within you that you’re losing awareness of where you are. You’re lightheaded, brain in the fucking stratosphere and you have to lay down, you have to—

He’s guiding you onto your back before you can do it yourself and the cool counter is a balm against the skin of your exposed shoulders and back. He looms over you from his place between your legs, big and muscular and reeking of hunger. 

“Toji,” you try to speak into the air, stifling a whimper at the sight of him stretching out your leg to rest on his shoulder.

One of his large hands caresses the canvas of your calf before you watch his lips kiss your chocolate skin. His rough scar scratches against you in the most delightful way as his mouth kisses up your calf, bends your leg to get closer, and then resumes his touch on the inside of your thigh. His face should be melting with the amount of heat emitting from between your legs, but he must relish in the burn because the second his tongue slides thick and wet against your clothed cunt, you whimper pathetically into the air.

You have just enough common sense to break from the desire to be fucked thoroughly to whisper.

“Toji, we can’t,” you swallow against the dryness in your throat. “Someone could see.”

You can feel the impatience on his body in waves but he has to listen to you. If your family were to walk in here right now to see their niece or cousin being eaten out like a gourmet meal, the Earth would swallow you whole.

“Shit,” he hisses, pulling you into his arms and carrying you out of the kitchen. You don’t care enough to tell him where to go; you’re too hot, too wet in your panties, and your need is twisting at the base of your spine in the most irritating way, begging to be soothed. 

You hear the beginnings of fireworks being popped off in the backyard and your family is loud, thankfully so loud as Toji locks the door to the bathroom and drops you unceremoniously onto the counter. Though the metal of the faucet digs into the small of your back and you fall into the mirror as you clamber to get yourself in order, you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s on you again, all teeth and lips and sinful tongue in your mouth with equally sinful hands digging impatiently into the sides of your panties.

“Take them off,” you demand, practically whining and in less than a second you can only get one leg out before he’s sinking to his knees, eyes wild and shoulders heaving with untamed breaths. 

“God, you’re so fucking wet. So damn pretty,” he whispers in reverence, throwing your legs over his shoulders, and the compliment makes your cunt throb in anticipation.

You can’t be sure if he’s talking to you or himself. Before you can breathe to calm yourself, it’s catching in your throat, hitching against a moan as his tongue licks a long wet stripe up the slit of your dripping cunt. His tongue parts your folds as if it’s the sea, savoring your essence and then sucking your clit into his mouth like it’s the cherry on top and you love it, whine at the feel, eyes crossing and rolling into the back of your head at the exquisite feeling.

He pulls away for a moment, taking a deep breath as if to regain control, and kisses the inside of your thigh before sliding two fingers up your dripping center, collecting your slick before beginning to rub circles on your clit. He’s mesmerized, and you take a moment to marvel at just how little of his green eyes are visible to you, his pupils are dilated with hunger and focused on the way your cunt moves with his fingers.

“Your bitch of an ex ever eat you out?”

You really don’t want to think about him right now, and you also don’t like the thought of someone feeling like they need to prove themselves to you.

But there’s a big man between your thighs who wants to unwrap you like candy. So you shrug, panting softly as you speak, “Every now and then.”

Toji scoffs, eyes seeming to darken like a forest at night.

“Every now and then,” he parrots, voice incredulous as if he’s heard the most insane thing ever, like he can’t believe it.

He increases the pressure on your clit harshly, causing you to buck against him, yelping in satisfied shock when he flicks your sensitive bud hard with his tongue.

“I’ll make you feel good, princess. Don’t you worry.” 

The nickname doesn’t have the effect as before. No, this time you moan in response, your guts churning with satisfaction at the prospect of being worshiped.

Slowly the two fingers on your clit slide into you, testing the waters, gauging if you’re okay, and your jaw slackens at the feel of the stretch. Fingering is an art, an act that requires patience and skill. You have to know the right pace, when to curl, how to know a woman’s body to determine what she wants. It’s glorious when it’s done right. 

And god, does Toji do it right.

He’s thorough and fluid in his strokes, using the tempo of your moans to curl at just the right time and sucking and licking your clit like he’s ravenous and your head is falling back into the space between your shoulder blades, eyes wide with disbelief as you stare at the ceiling. 

The fireworks are consistent outside, popping off every second and it’s loud enough that you have the courage to voice how Toji is making you feel. 

“Every now and then,” he hisses again to himself, angry and curling his fingers a little harder. You jerk against him, whimpering like a fool when you feel his tongue flick your clit harder as a reward. “He’s so fucking stupid. You taste so good, it’s unbelievable.”

He’s curling more now, brushing against that spongy wall that zings heat to your belly. Your insides churn, a molten heat popping to splatter against the base of your spine, pleasure coaxing you to reach that precipice that will let you fall apart. 

Vaguely you hear him whispering words into the skin of your thighs that you can’t decipher, the thrumming in your ears too loud to hear anything else beyond the fireworks outside, your escalating moans, and the obscene sounds of him slurping you up. The muscles in your thighs begin to tighten, your fingers are sweaty as they slide against the cool marble of the bathroom counter, and you dig your wedges into the muscles of his back, white panties dangling off one ankle. He’s so good, so thorough and your breath is hitching, choking on a moan.

“There you go princess, cum all over my fingers. Get me nice and messy.”

His deep words are accompanied by a sharp bend of his fingers and you’re cumming with a shout, rejoicing in the hot pleasure that puddles along your bones. It’s abrupt and overwhelming, pulling a sharp current down your body that makes your back arch until it bumps into the sink behind you. He’s groaning from his place between your legs, still pumping his fingers and licking your clit to collect as much of your slick as he can.

By the time you look down at him, you’re still catching your breath, your thighs tremble from the sudden chill injected into your muscles. You catch Toji just in time to watch him begin to slip his two dripping fingers into his mouth, but you snatch his wrist, riding off the high of your orgasm to slip his digits into your mouth instead. Thin rings of green widen in surprise and you savor the way his cheeks darken as you swirl your tongue around his digits.

“You’re unreal,” he gulps when you pop his fingers out of your mouth.

You shrug, not willing to show him just how powerful you feel, and wrap your legs around his waist, panties still caught on the buckle of one of your wedges. 

“I’m letting you be nice to me, remember? So what’s next?”

With a harsh pull, he stumbles closer to you, his hands slamming against the marble counter on either side of your waist. His breath hitches as you hastily undo his belt, eyes widening as he takes in the way you leer up at him. 

“You got me a drink, defended my honor from my bitchy aunt, asked me about my family, ate my pussy…you wanna fuck me now?”

“I—” he starts, caught off guard by your forwardness.

“You want to bend me over this counter, make me look in the mirror while I take your cock? Smack my ass and make me beg for you to fill me up?”

“You’ve got a mouth on you,” Toji chokes on a nervous laugh, hissing when your fingers graze the sensitive skin above his belt. 

“Is that a problem?”

The hair of his happy trail is faint and dark just like the hair on his head, and your touch makes his stomach bunch in sensation. He shakes his head in response and you want to laugh so bad at the sight of him struggling to swallow. You haven’t done anything to the man, but he’s sensitive to your touch, and that makes the blood in your veins sing.

“If you’re letting me have you, you can have it however you want.”

Arousal hums to life between your legs, and you can’t help but be turned on at how much he’s giving you. You want him now and while the prospect of being fucked over the counter was what you had hoped, if your family comes in and hears you taking it like a champ, you’ll never show your face again.

So when the door to your truck’s backseat closes, you’re climbing back on his lap, relaxing further into him with the knowledge that you can be as noisy as you want. Your uncle has a seven-month supply of fireworks and land in the middle of nowhere, Hennessey, and classics booming from his sound system… it’s going to be loud for a very long time. 

You’re running on your own current of desire at this point, pawing at his shirt so he can finally yank it off his shoulders and you’re drooling. He’s glorious and you don’t hesitate to rub your hands down firm pectorals, between the abs on his torso, and along the musculature of his Adonis belt. He’s cut like a marble statue, something that takes a painstaking process to hammer and smooth over until the result is almost—

“Let me take you out,” he suddenly suggests, voice gravelly with want but insistent.

Huh?

You’re immediately puzzled, eyebrows dipping into a furrow as you try to decipher his words. His hair is wild, black strands splintering and bushy but still giving you a gateway to his eyes and you see that he’s completely serious.

“On…a date?” A lift of his thin eyebrow in reply and the reality of him actually showing interest flags dangerously against your desire to ride him into oblivion. “Just the dopamine talking, I’m sure,” you say, hoping to dismiss the idea. You hadn’t expected him to actually…want to take you out. You can’t think about that right now because your head is too thick with hunger to try and have a conversation.

He hums, low and dangerous, a hand brushing the skin above your clit and you’re reminded of just how wet you still are from his sloppy tongue minutes before. 

“You’re the only one here that’s cum, princess. I’m being serious.”

“It’ll pass,” you reply immediately, licking into his mouth to shut him up.

Thankfully he doesn’t try to interject because you don’t have time to talk right now—you don’t want to. You don’t know Toji, not well enough. While tonight has been one of the most relaxed evenings you’ve spent with a man in a long time, you’re unsure if he genuinely wants you or if he’s merely carried away by the thrill of being with a woman.

He tried to come onto you the minute he laid eyes on you, tried to kiss you after a few hours, and pocketed your panties even though you pretended to be oblivious. You just don’t know. If you had a pretty girl in your lap, you would probably say the same things. Ask her on a date, make her feel wanted so she’s more giving when you slide her panties off.

It’ll pass.

And that’s what you tell yourself when you feel his large hands palm your ass beneath your sundress. You are teeth against him, nipping his tongue, biting the skin of his jaw, the meat of his neck, and the sharp groan that you pull from him in response makes you drip like a bitch in heat against his jeans.

“Take off your pants,” you whisper to him sharply, turning around and leaning over the center console to fish a condom from inside. You had discovered them months ago, and they should have been more than enough for you to dump your ex then.

“Shit,” you hear Toji hiss from behind you before your ass stings from his slap against it. You yelp, jumping from the contact and you hope he can see your cunt pulse from between your thighs in response. “Hurry up, baby.” 

When you face him again, you freeze, eyes widening at the sight of his cock. As you take him in, he snatches the condom from your hand and unfurls it on his cock.

Surprisingly trimmed with dark hair, he’s thick—not enough to be painful—but enough to enjoy the stretch so you can ride him until he flatlines and enjoy the ache in your thighs in the morning. It’s perfect; pale with a red tip that leaks into the tip of the condom, a vein along the side that you can’t lick without tasting latex. It’s a shame.  

He throws you that devilish smirk, eyes twinkling in pride before he taps his thigh and beckons you like the best ride at the carnival.

“Hop on, princess.��

Your fingers grip the hair at his nape when you feel him inside of you. It’s a delicious stretch that you have to breathe through, and the feel of his hands affectionately stroking your back catches you off guard. You don’t hate it; in fact, you want to lean into it, but you don’t want to give him any ammunition for something you aren’t sure about. So you slide down to the hilt and listen to Toji curse sharply through the sudden heat of you before you start a steady rhythm that throws him off.

Within seconds, you increase your pace, riding him with an intensity that makes the air in your throat catch and drag along the sides. He’s got a satisfying curve to him that grazes those magical spots within you to make the grip on his nape tighten like a vice. Your head is foggy with an overpowering mist that makes your mouth loose and your inhibitions low.

“You feel so good,” he whispers, pulling you out of the delirium you were basking in to focus on him. His jaw is relaxed, hot air puffing from between an open mouth and onto the skin of your neck, a few strands of his hair stick to his forehead and the sides of his cheeks and there’s a slight furrow to his thin eyebrows as if he’s trying to concentrate.

You’re giddy with desire. “Let me guess,” you tease, lips brushing against his. “Am I tight?”

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation, eyelids hooded and upper cheeks darkening with a blush that spreads down his neck.

“Am I nice and hot?”

“Yes, fuck yes, baby.” 

It’s meant to tease, because every man that has ever slid inside of you in the past says the same shit, but to hear it from him brings a strange sense of satisfaction that you find yourself slanting your lips against his. He still tastes like the yellow cake that you never got, but the flavor is intertwined with the remnants of your essence that still lingers on his tongue that dances with yours. 

You plant your knees harder into the seat on each side of him, use your muscles to bear down and give you more control, and then you roll your hips, guiding him in and out in a tantalizing dance that elicits groans from him and makes him roll his head back against the headrest.

“Let me take you out,” he gasps into the air and you refuse to answer him—you can’t. It’s harder now to believe his sincerity because he’s delirious with lust. “Answer me.”

You growl softly and yank your hands from his hair to push down the straps of your sundress. You’re not wearing a bra, and he cusses like he just stubbed his toe as he watches your breasts spill free.

“Stop talking,” you whisper and yank his head forward, beckoning him to you and he catches on quickly, licking and sucking a nipple before pulling it into his mouth. The sensation makes you shudder, a gentle pleasure that your cunt appreciates and you pick up your pace on him again. “Stop asking me. Just let me fuck you.”

He bites down in retaliation to pull a squeak from you and licks over the sting in a half-assed apology. When you look down, his gaze is illuminated by the streetlights, a harsh glare that showcases his annoyance with your deflection, but his eyes droop when you squeeze around him in response.

You’re stuffed full of him, stretching along the sides, punching the air out of your throat with each bounce on his cock and your legs begin to burn with the build-up of exertion. Your nipples are wet and sensitive against his taste buds as he teases each peak into his hot mouth and it helps to mix that pot of pleasure in your stomach to life again. 

You can feel it, like a crescendo of waves crashing against a dock, but the waves are coming in quicker and more turbulent with every moan and cry that falls from your lips. You push him off of your chest, dig your fingers into his shoulders for more leverage so you can ride his cock like you have nothing left to lose.

His chest is blooming red, covered in a light sheen of sweat that dips between his pectorals and pools in his collarbones. Your bun of braids came loose when he was eating you out in the bathroom, and now some are heavy on your skin with sweat and plaster over your shoulders and between your sternum and you’re hot and sweaty and trying so hard to reign it in. 

He doesn’t buck up into you and you’re unsure if it’s due to laziness or the fact that he simply wants to watch you while he brings himself closer to climax. You hope it’s the latter. 

“Do you like this?” you pant into his mouth and nip his bottom lip. “You can tell me, you know. Be a good boy and tell me just how I’m making you feel.”

He groans and lands another smack to your ass that makes you gasp and arch further into him. It's the right amount of pain that makes your pussy pulse in response, the right amount of manhandling that can take you higher in a second.

“You’re a natural, princess. You ever ride him like this?”

You shake your head and he smacks your ass again, harder this time and digs his fingertips into the flesh to let the sting linger. It's so good, and you can't help the whine that you puff against his lips as he smirks up at you with a proud disposition.

“He couldn’t handle it. Probably why he cheated wasn’t it? You were too much for him. You know how you like it and he couldn’t deliver.” 

You don’t answer him, but he’s right. He’s so right. He couldn’t stand it when you took control, hated when you asked him to do something that didn’t result in him being dominant, hated when he couldn’t even eat pussy without you having to ask. 

The feel of his fingers on your clit makes you jump and you poke your fingers into his nape again and pick up your pace, panting and moaning like you’re running a marathon as the pleasure rocks inside of you like a pendulum. 

“Oh god. Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you whisper, stomach burning.

You’re fluttering around him—pulsing and clenching and gushing over the thickest cock you’ve ever had and it’s glorious, you’re in fucking heaven.

The streetlight shines faintly into your truck, painting half of Toji’s face. He’s beautiful; that same annoying flicker of desire that captivated you when his green eyes met yours hours ago glimmers thin and dilated.

There’s a ruggedness to him that exudes masculinity, but glimpses into the depths of his eyes reveal a tender vulnerability that makes you wonder how soft he could be if he allowed you to get close enough.

The thought makes your cunt tighten around him, your thighs tense and fill with lactic acid and his fingers on your clit are unceasing, rubbing in a precise rhythm that makes you hiccup on a moan of incredulity. The hand not occupied with your clit is reclined across the headrest behind him and it makes him look unbearably sexy.

“I’ve never had a woman ride me like this,” he whispers, and you smile into his mouth, your kiss messy as you swallow down his compliment. He yanks you away and breathes that same insufferable ask against your lips.

“Let me take you out.” He rubs your clit faster, using the way you tighten around him as a guide to your pleasure, and his hand leaves the headrest to dig into the meat of your ass. “One chance. One dinner. I’ll give you what you deserve, whatever you want, princess. I promise just—”

“Stop it,” you whine and fight the burning sensation in your eyes. You’re so close, so fucking close and the storm inside of you is out of control but he won’t stop fucking talking. Won’t stop being so damn nice even though his cock is rearranging your guts in the nastiest way. You grip his hair and pull him closer to you so there’s no space between you to breathe. “Stop talking. Stop asking. Make yourself useful and make me cum.”

Thankfully he does. He scowls up at you behind the curtain of his hair but pinches your clit and you squeal, rolling your hips, riding him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. The windows have already fogged up, the truck rocks with your movements, and you are consumed with a blissful incoherence that forces you to surrender and let your walls crumble.

Your thighs burn, your dress clings to your sweaty body, and the stimulation on your clit becomes almost unbearable as you whine with the need to cum. He hisses loudly into the car, bares his teeth for a second, and then his eyes roll before he’s slack-jawed and panting into stuffy air, a current of groans beneath.

“That’s it, Toji,” you gasp, voice strained as you teeter on the brink of an orgasm that threatens to overwhelm you. “Be nice to me just like you said and give me everything like the good boy you are.”

The hand not on your clit slips against the sweat on your hips, and you lick up the side of his neck, savoring the salt taste of his perspiration on his smooth skin, just in time to hear him. It’s faint and low, practically a whisper but he chants--

‘Fuck yes, fuck yes. So fucking good. Ride me, sweetheart.’

It’s tilted in a whine, pathetically desperate, but the sound of him does the trick because the flick of his fingers on your clit makes the biggest wave of pleasure crash over you.

You don’t get the chance to tell him you’re cumming, you simply yank his head back from the sudden force, tilt your head up to the ceiling and cum with an exhausted and wrung out ‘fuck!’ that you’re sure your uncle’s neighbors will hear a mile down the road. You’re dumbfounded with pleasure, dizzy with it and your belly is hot and simmering as you gasp and whimper at just how good it feels. 

He’s laying you back on the seat before you can catch your breath. You’re still coming down, still moaning to catch up but his large hands are under your knees and bending them towards your chest to chase his own orgasm. The edge of the seat digs into the crevice of your spine, and your hand flies out to smack against the back of the driver’s seat so you don’t fall but it slips with sweat, is hard to hold onto and you can hardly focus with everything that’s going on. 

His mouth is on you, stealing your breath that you still can’t control, swallowing your moans as he fucks you with a ferocity that pulls your soul from your body. He pulls away with a deep moan and stares down at you with a look that makes you anxious—like he wants to see you again, like he wants to come to another cookout with your rowdy family if it means he can bother you some more—like he really likes you. 

You know he’s going to try and say something that you may not be able to talk yourself out of, so you take the intense furrow in his eyebrows and the stuttering of his hips as a cue.

“You gonna cum?” you purr up at him, moaning weakly from the harsh thrusts that stroke you into overstimulation.

“Yes,” he answers without fail, eyes locked on yours. “Yes, I’m gonna cum. Fuck—”

Reaching up, you cup his cheek, unsure why but feeling an inexplicable need, and the words that fall from your lips help him across the finish line. 

“Cum inside me, Toji. Take what you want and fill me up.”

His eyes widen before they roll closed and he’s slamming against you three times hard and rough before the deepest moan you’ve ever heard slips past his lips. He pants heavily stuttering tiny thrusts into you as he comes down, the tips of his hair drip a few drops of sweat onto your neck before he lowers himself to rest on top of you. He’s too big for the seat and his knee digs into the floor of the truck to maintain his balance. His hot breath washes over your neck, slowly calming down, and in your daze, you realize that you’re holding onto his shoulders. 

The hard lines of Toji that you noted when you first saw him now feel gentle against you.

He rumbles your name into your neck and you’re cutting him off before the dopamine can speak for him. 

“We should get back inside before someone finally notices that we’ve been gone.” He abruptly lifts to look down at you, annoyance etched on his devastatingly handsome face. He wants to argue, you can taste it, but your fear wins. “My bitchy aunt has been at me all night, the last thing I need is her snooping.”

He’s quiet still, the edge of his lips curling into a dissatisfied frown. It stretches his scar in a way that takes away from the beauty of his face. Makes him look more alien and you have to pull your gaze from him. But he doesn’t argue like you think he would. He doesn’t speak or try to talk back or voice how annoyed he is.

He slowly pulls out of you and you immediately miss the feeling, ties off the condom, and pulls you up tenderly from the seat. Your skin is sticky and the truck reeks of sex. The high has worn off and all that remains is the overwhelming unease that rises like bile in the back of your throat. 

When you both are finally dressed and creeping out of the backseat, the cool air is a welcome feel to your overheated skin. It washes away your trepidation, if only for a moment. Toji looms over you, tall like a bear that you desperately want to sink your embrace back into, but he still doesn’t speak, and the crease of annoyance between his brows doesn’t leave. He should hold onto it. It will help him get over you. 

“Do you mind getting my purse from inside the house? I don’t want to go back inside just yet and I need to check my phone.”

Impatience emanates from his every pore, yet you can sense his anxiety as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. But he still doesn’t fight and makes his way back inside without a word.

You lied.

Your purse is in the front seat of your car—you threw it up there when you both snuck into the vehicle in the first place, but his attention was too busy trying to feel you up than pay attention to the satchel hanging off your shoulder. 

Once you see the front door close, you get into the front seat, start your car, and drive away without a second thought. Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as the temptation to turn back tugs at you. 

It may not be right to leave without saying goodbye, and lying to him has left a bitter taste in your mouth. Your family is too occupied with the fireworks and each other’s company to really notice your absence anyway, and you’re sure they’ll have no problem trying to distract Toji when he realizes that you’re gone. 

The grip on the wheel doesn’t lessen, but you roll down the windows and let the evening July air wash away some of the sex that still lingers on the seats.

***

“So you did fuck him,” your cousin snickers over the speaker of your phone a week later. 

It’s a Saturday night and you’re knee-deep in your wash day routine. It took you all day to take out your braids and the clear shower cap on your head traps the deep conditioner inside. You wipe away some of the excess near your ear.

You have Chinese waiting to be delivered, and you’re ready to finish your routine so you can go to bed. Your eyes are glued to your television playing some sort of nature documentary but your attention is elsewhere, specifically on trying to worm your way out of this conversation with your cousin. She’s called you every single day since the 4th and she’s done nothing but make you feel guilty about your abrupt departure. 

As you expected, your family didn’t really notice your absence. But when Toji asked your cousin for your purse and then realized you had lied, he sulked in a lawn chair for the rest of the night before Shiu drove him home.

“Yes, I fucked him. So what?”

“Soooo do something about it. Fuck him again? He lives in the same city as you and is here indefinitely. Make a move—”

“It was a nice night, but he was already trying to flirt with me as soon as he saw me and I still entertained him and fucked him and—I shouldn’t have done that…I should have waited, maybe tested the waters more. He only tried to ask me out because he was horny as hell.”

She’s quiet on the other line, and you look up at the ceiling in exasperation because you can feel her annoying logic rev up before she fires away.

“So you’re just scared? Your ex cheated on you because he was a spineless pissy boy who slithered away because you didn’t take his shit. That’s not a reflection of you, at all. I know you like to have it all figured out before you make a decision, but not everything works out that way. Toji saw a fine ass black woman who talks her shit and he made a move. He’s a nice guy...a little rough around the edges, but truly…a nice guy. Someone for you.”

James Attenborough elegantly voices something about the cuttlefish on the screen while you try to contemplate what to say. She’s right. You hate that she’s right. It’s why you two are so close but still you retort in the best way you know how.

“Girl, fuck you.”

Her raucous laugh vibrates over the speaker in delight and you snort and roll your eyes when the doorbell cuts you off. The prospect of your Chinese food makes your mouth water and you’re rushing to the door.

Only it’s not your Chinese food at the doorstep, it’s Toji Fushiguro. Toji Fushiguro who is protected from the rain under the overhang of your apartment door with one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other clutching a container. The annoyed look that you last saw on his face is gone, replaced by a neutral and bored look that seems natural for him, even though his eyes don’t convey that specific emotion. Those green eyes are reminiscent of your uncle’s well-maintained lawn as they look down at you with a nervous glint. 

“Toji,” you breathe in disbelief. “How did you get my address…”

Your cousin squawks on the other line and swallows a giggle. “I’m gonna go—”

“Your cousin finally gave it to me.,” he replies simply and gestures down to the phone in your tight grip. “I’ve been trying to get it since you fucking left.”

“Damn, thanks?!” she barks at him. “Lemme get out of here, I’m getting another call anyway. Bye!”

You’re going to kill her. Slowly. Painfully and maybe in front of Shiu to get a few tears out of him if you’re feeling particularly evil. 

You know she’s right about Toji, but you can’t do this. You shouldn’t have fucked him in the first place and you should have thought of a backup plan on the off chance that your cousin was going to be annoying and nosy as hell.

You ignore his intense and heavy gaze, shifting in discomfort, scratch the back of your neck, and blanch in horror when your fingers brush the edge of your shower cap. You’re wearing a large t-shirt, your feet are bare and your head is covered in a shower cap with deep conditioner leaking from the sides; a stark contrast from the calm and collected woman who snapped at him all day a week ago. Mortification washes over you in a heavy wave, drowning your mantra of not giving a fuck about a man’s opinion, and you step back to grab the door.

“Listen…I’m waiting for food and then I have to get ready for work in the morning. So you need—”

“You have time to spare then,” he cuts off and walks past you. You round on him, indignant in your gaze.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?! Get out, Toji!”

“You want me to leave? Hmm?” he asks, goading you like you don’t know if you’re sure.

You’re not sure, but—“Yes, goddammit! I shouldn’t have left but I don’t do this sort of thing! The moment you met me, you only wanted to get in my pants. And that makes you trying to ask me out while your cock is inside of me, a lot harder to believe!”

He firmly places the container in his hands on your kitchen counter, takes a deep breath to calm himself, and gives you a look that either makes you want to melt into him or slap it off his face.

“Listen—”

You’re on the defensive now, backed into a corner and ready to pull every card you have to just make him go away. “You here for a quick fuck then? Because you got me to let my guard down and because we had such a steamy time in the backseat of my truck, you thought, what? You could just show up and bend me over my couch?”

That flicker of irritation is back on his face and it crinkles the edges of his eyes, makes him look nasty and hostile.

“Fuck, will you stop—”

“Wanna have a little ‘situationship’ while you get acquainted with your new life here? Have me get nice and comfortable and as soon as I ask for something more, you’re jumping ship. Sounds like a good plan, doesn’t it?”

A sharp growl leaves his throat and he glares.

“Girl—” he starts and immediately stops, eyes wide as saucers at the venomous gaze that you shoot his way. There it is, a hint of a name to make you feel small and insignificant. It reminds you of your parents when you used to talk back and they slid the name to you in a warning to stop talking. You hate it and it stings that you have to hear it from him.

“Get out,” you bark, seething with a rage that brings a sting to your eyes. 

He throws up his hands in frustration, looming like a bear from his place in your kitchen. “Will you just stop it!”

“I said—”

“Oh my fucking god—I like you!” 

His admission catches you off guard, cutting through your anger, and you stare at him in astonishment. His face is red with embarrassment, eyes trained up at the ceiling as if asking the gods to give him patience. He takes a deep breath before meeting your gaze from across the kitchen.

“You don’t do this sort of thing?” he asks, gesturing between the two of you. You can’t find the words to respond, still too shocked, so you simply nod. 

“What sort of thing is that? Flirting with you because you looked like the sexiest little thing in that backyard and I wanted your attention?” He’s annoyed, deep voice razor sharp as he speaks, but you don’t miss the step he takes closer to you.

“Me trying to make you feel better because your family is judgmental? Teaching me about the food you like because I’m not from here?”

He’s closer now and the air is thin again just like that night a week ago.

“Helping me win that little card game?” It’s spades, but you’re too lightheaded with how close he is to correct him. “Telling me about your family? What sort of thing is that? Hmm? Tell me.” 

You don’t have a retort. You’re too stunned to speak even though you refuse to let the annoyed expression on your face vanish. You want to hold onto what little shreds of defiance you have left.

“You aren’t mean. You don’t tolerate bullshit, you don’t fuck around, and you put people in their place. You refuse to settle for less, and I already told you that’s what I like in a woman…And I like you.”

What do you even say? You never expected to see him again, and your mind is muddled as if you’re submerged in water. Your heart feels too big in your chest, your body too hot and sweaty and you’re nervous. He’s angry with his confession, almost annoyed and you’re beginning to realize that it is an emotion that’s second nature to him even if it’s not as intense as you think it is. 

“Is that right?” you can’t help but test him, lifting a brow. You have to crane your neck just a little to look up at him.

He scoffs, the crease in his eyebrows smooths out and the scar on his lips twitches. 

“Yea, that's fucking right. So…” he takes one more step closer and his body is brushing against yours. He smells mildly of toothpaste and bergamot from another brand of cheap cologne and the combination makes you weak in the knees. “Let me take you out.”

It’s the same demand that you’ve heard so many times now, but this time, it feels more serious, more meaningful with a hint of desperation. In the kitchen light, you can see just how silky his raven locks are and you grip your phone and the fabric of your t-shirt to resist the urge to run your hands through them. 

“I’m listening,” you jest with a practiced air.

That wicked smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth, scar adding a devilish flair to his features, and your stomach burns with the realization that he’s too cocky for his own good, and you’ve unfortunately grown to like it. 

“Shiu has tickets for something here called…football? He’s taking your cousin and has two extra tickets. Come with me and show me how to win.”

You can’t help the snort that leaves your mouth and your stomach flips at the genuine confusion on his face. “We don’t participate in the game. We watch it. But it’s fun.”

“All the more reason for you to come with me.”

“I…”

It’s a compelling argument, all of it is. And you want to, you really want to give this a shot and just be vulnerable for once. Because Toji seems like the kind of man who would let you be just who you are and would never make you feel lesser than about it. 

The feel of his large hands cupping your cheeks pulls you out of your thoughts, and he tilts your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes are mesmerizing, like the color of pine trees right before the sun sets and you feel yourself weakening completely.

“One date, princess.”

The deep timbre of his voice does little to help you and it’s worse because it’s just how he fucking talks. You’re not a royal, and you don’t have land, lots of money, or power, but you can tolerate ‘princess’ if it’s coming from his mouth. 

Just one date. You deserve it. You’ve earned the reward.

You wave away his hands from your face just so you can breathe a little easier. He chuckles but gives you your space, and makes his way to the door that you usher him towards. 

“Fine. Make sure you bring cash because it’s easier at the concession stands. I want a pretzel…and a hot dog.”

He snickers as he pulls his hood over his head, obscuring most of his face except for the ethereal glow of his eyes. His teeth shine from his bright smile and you roll your eyes in response before watching him open your door. 

“Toji?” you call, your voice softer…apprehensive.

He turns around to watch you shuffle to him, your feet and legs cold against the chill from the open door. You hand him your phone wordlessly and he takes the hint to insert his number. When he’s finished, you open your mouth to speak, lips shaping words that won’t come out—words you want to say. But you can’t. Not yet. Maybe one day.

For now, you throw him an annoyed eyebrow lift and grumble. “Parking is a real bitch, so pick me up early.”

You avert your gaze, frustrated at yourself for sounding so mean as usual. Because that’s just who you are. The bitter, mean—

A finger beneath your chin lifts your gaze to him and he kisses you full on the mouth, slow and reassuring, minty breath sliding into your mouth when he nips your bottom lip. The self-deprecating voice in your head finally quiets, smothered by a pillow held down by his scarred hands.

When he pulls away, that stupid smirk is on his face, but it’s not as teasing, and your heart does something weird in your chest that makes you swallow hard.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies finally to your demand.

You watch his eyes take in your form from head to toe before he kisses you quickly once more and ducks into the rain.

When you finally get your Chinese and place it on the counter to dig in, your eyes land on the container that was in Toji’s hands from earlier. 

You peek inside, and your heart does that weird thing again in your chest when you see a heaping slice of the yellow cake that you never got to have a week ago.

Thanks for reading! You can find the sequel here!

#Toji Fushiguro #Toji Fushiguro x Reader #Toji Fushiguro x Black Reader #Toji Fushiguro x black fem reader #Toji x you #Toji Fushiguro x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #black fem reader #black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #Maneater #mysteria157 #anime x black reader #Toji Fushiguro fanfic #jjk fanfic #Toji Fushiguro smut #Toji Fushiguro fluff #toji zenin #fushiguro toji #jjk toji #Toji fanfic #toji smut #toji x reader #toji jjk #jujutsu toji #soft Toji #jjk fic #jjk au

[slavicviking]

Dipping my toes in the ‘oblivious Eddie has no functioning gaydar which results in mild miscommunication’ genre of the Steddie experience, hope you enjoy!

Ao3 extended version

“My, my, are my eyes deceiving me? Steve Harrington himself has graced these sinful halls?”

Instead of a sneer Eddie’s been expecting, Steve’s face lights up with a smile. He lifts his hand to wave at him with much more enthusiasm than expected. Which is… weird since they have maybe talked once when the guy picked up Eddie’s new freshmen from Hellfire. Well, almost as weird as meeting a Harington in a gay bar itself. 

“Munson, hi!”

A little dumb-founded, Eddie waves back weakly, his eyes catching the sight of Robin Buckley at the bar behind them. Ah, so there’s the reason Harrington’s here.

“You’re here as an ally, I presume.”

“Uhm, yeah I guess so?” Steve pouts, confused, before smiling again. “You too, then?”

“Sure, let’s say that.”

“Hey, you should sit with us,” Harrington grins as if that’s actually a good idea. Before Eddie manages to think of an excuse, he’s being dragged towards Buckley by the sleeve. “Come on.”

“Munson,” Robin nods at him in greeting, something akin to a mischievous smirk on her face. Why, he doesn’t begin to understand. 

“You look good, by the way,” a deep voice whispers into his ear as they set off towards the tables and Eddie has to do everything for his soul not to leave his body. Steve… is being way friendlier than expected. But that’s what it is, he has to remind himself before it gets too dangerous, just guys being dudes.

The ‘us’ in question turns out to be more than just the bizarre Harrington-and-Buckley duo. There’s Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers and some tall guy with the best hair he’s seen, not counting Harrington of course, bless his hair-sprayed soul. They don’t seem all that surprised he’s here at all which - fair enough, but also that he’s here at this table and that he doesn’t know how to explain. Nancy Wheeler, though, ever the enigma keeps shooting him loaded glances. He’s pretty sure she sniffed out his embarrassing crush on, ugh, Steve Harrington and she’s- Jealous maybe? Probably? As if there is a universe where he, Eddie Munson, poses a threat to someone like Nancy fucking Wheeler. 

Steve sits himself closest to Eddie, maybe because he’s feeling guilty - as he should be - about throwing him into a table full of basically-strangers or maybe for a different, Harrington-unexplainable reason. The point is, he’s close, Eddie can smell his aftershave and cigarettes and it’s the best and worst thing that’s happened to him. 

He keeps talking, too, asking Eddie questions about DnD (and isn’t that a head-scratcher in itself) and what conditioner he’s using because he really likes his hair (as if Steve wasn’t the embodiment of every shampoo commercial ever made). The gin-and-tonic Eddie’s been sipping must’ve been stronger than he thought because he swears he hears Steve saying something like ‘I don’t know, I think you’re really pretty’ at one point. 

Eddie is starting to wonder if Harrington, perhaps, has been replaced with a pod person.

There’s a few more attempts at small talk from Steve but Eddie’s too confused and trying so hard to not be hopeful because a second edition of a pathetic crush on a straight dude (Steve, his mind supplies helpfully) is going to be too painful. Harrington seems kind of down afterwards, sliding off his chair and towards the bar which leaves Eddie with an infamous Buckley glare. Followed by an aggravating assault to his shin. 

“Ow, Jesus, what the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem?” Robin is quick to retort. “What’s your problem? I thought you had a crush on him! It’s frankly kind of fucking obvious.”

Okay, whoa, rude. 

“I don’t,” Eddie sneers back but falters when she levels him with a blank stare. “Fine, I do. Whatever. Way to kick a man when he’s down.”

“Dingus, he’s been all over you for the last hour. He’s been flirting like crazy and you, for some reason, keep shooting him down, what the hell?”

“But-” But he’s straight. Right? He turns to see Steve at the bar and - oh, there’s some guy with curly hair touching Steve’s arm and Steve’s smiling and blushing and- “What?”

That won’t do.

“Go get your man,” Robin says, practically shoving him off his stool to emphasize her point. Eddie scrambles from the floor, ignores the intense looks from the rest of the table and marches towards the bar.

“I’m coming, Stevie.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #st fanfic #ficlet #my writing

[kivino]

I DON’T CARE WHAT’S IN YOUR HAIR || ROOMMATE!JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH X GN!READER

Word Counter – 1.9k

Tags/Warnings – Some friendly banter, can be read as both platonic and romantic, fluff!

Summary – Your roommate Johnny comes back after his deployment and his hair looks like it needs a little trimming.

A/n – I AM ON MY ROOMMATE!SOAP AGENDA AND I WILL SPREAD IT FAR AND WIDE. let me know if you guys would like to see more roommate!Soap things on my blog, i'm very interested in different opinions!!!

ao3 link!!

Soap couldn’t wait until he was finally back home – several months had passed since his last leave and he was getting restless and antsy without the very much-needed rest. And, well, your company, which he missed more and more each day. You’d constantly be on his mind, plaguing his every thought with your presence, from a rather simple, passing “Oh, they’d like this joke” inside his head to talking the ears off of anyone who’d listen to him ramble about his lovely roommate, who he affectionately called “my dumbass back home”. Slowly, but surely, the number of people willing to lend an ear to restless Johnny became less and less, with each day of him staying on the base. So really, it was more of a favor extended to all the resident soldiers there.

Soap could almost feel the buzz of excitement itching under his skin, the commute back to your shared apartment was really long and tiring; the huge duffel bag filled to the brim with dirty laundry and a variety of clothes he shoved inside in a hurry didn’t help with the soreness in his body either. Soap, thankfully, didn’t forget to tell you earlier this week that his leave got approved, which you didn’t seem too excited about over the text, but he knew that you were screaming and jumping from joy. Maybe.

The last time he forgot to do that ahead of time he came back to an absolute disaster inside the apartment, with you trying to cook dinner while doing laundry, vacuuming, and cussing him out for not telling you earlier. Truth be told, Johnny didn’t mind if the apartment was messy, with undone dishes and whatnot, he’d help you do everything, but you were fixed on the fact that you should do it yourself and it’s absolutely crucial that everything has to be perfect by the time he’s back. Ghost joked that you had some military spouse mentality when Soap mentioned it to him (among countless other times he’d tell the big guy about you). Maybe there was some truth to this joke. Just maybe.

Regardless, Johnny could feel the bounce in his step and the same lightness in his chest when he was finally within a short walking distance of the apartment, and he just simply couldn’t wait to see you, even if you were a bit tired after all the cleaning you’d have to do in the apartment to keep up this image of a “perfect roommate”, despite being to him much more than just that. Seconds drag out unbearably long when he’s going up the steep stairs in the building that have certainly seen better times than the 21st century, and Soap thinks he could combust when he has to rummage through his pockets for the keys he hasn’t used in months. Johnny could hear the vacuum moaning from exertion from his place outside the door and an unintentional smile grazes his lips when he hears you cursing something out in your native language. Johnny finally fishes the key out of his pocket, hurriedly unlocks the door, and goes inside, as quietly as he can, which you can still hear even over the sound of a working vacuum.

“Johnny, you ass, you’re finally back.” You’re immediately distracted from the home appliance, as you turn it off and focus your attention solely on Soap, running up to him across the room and helping him with the giant duffel bag. “Thought you died out there with long they held up your leave.” You mumble with a chuckle that turns into a rough shriek, courtesy of Johnny squeezing the life out of you with a tight and warm embrace.

“Aye, there we go, bonnie, let’s hug it out!” If you could hear over his loud booming voice you were sure you’d hear your bones snapping from how tight his arms wrapped around your torso. You’d probably hug him back if you could free your arms out of Johnny’s hug too, but that didn’t seem to be an option at the moment.

“Johnny, for fuck’s sake, you stink!” You only hear a hearty laugh in response to your dramatic delivery. You tried to seem annoyed with Soap, which was a bit harder than you initially thought. You kind of missed him, the apartment felt cold and empty without his chatter.

“And that’s how you treat me after we haven’t seen each other for months? You wound me so deep.” The man says in a mock-sad tone. Deep inside of him, he felt that – you’re not being serious and just messing with him. So, he only continued squeezing you in his arms, without much thought. “When did you shower last time anyway?” you ask with a light groan. “Not in the past 24 hours, I’ll tell ya that.” Johnny’s chest rumbles with a low laugh and you can feel those vibrations going right through you, from how close you were.

“Oh, fuck off. And what’s with the hair? Decided to take some fashion advice from those edgy lads down the road?” You finally look up at Soap and he looks…Interesting to say the least. It’s obvious that someone probably helped him trim down the sides, since they didn’t appear much longer than they were several months ago when he left last. The longer part of the mohawk, however, made him look like he decided to go full mullet, with parts of his hair cut in certain places, like there was an attempt to make it shorter. It wasn’t bad-looking by any stretch of the imagination (in fact, you were sure, that Johnny can make look good just about anything if he managed to pull off the fucking mohawk in the first place), but you had to take the piss at him while you had the chance.

“Everyone’s a critic. Help me cut it then, will ya?” The man asks, slightly loosening his iron grip on you to look you in the eyes with an infectious smile.

“Only after you wash.”

“Naturally.”

And that’s how you find yourself in the cramped, tight bathroom of your apartment, Johnny sitting in front of the mirror on a stool, back hunched over the sink and you standing right behind him, with a pair of scissors and a clear goal in mind – sort out whatever mess was on his head. If it was up to you, you’d find a person who decided to make Johnny the next victim of their questionable fashion choices and cut off their fingers so they can never hold anything that can cut hair in their hands again. But for now, you just have to figure out what to do with Soap.

“You look like a feral rat on steroids, Johnny,” You say, as your fingers slowly drift through the longer, very grown-out parts of his mohawk. You look at his reflection in the mirror and your eyes meet, despite the weird angle his head was positioned at, just to rest on your stomach. Soap gives you a lopsided smile and closes his eyes with a relaxed sigh. That bath must’ve been good, you scrubbed the shit out of the bathroom yesterday.

“Well, somebody’s gotta be the pretty one outta the pair of us.” If you were meaner than you already are you’d yank his hair to teach his ass a lesson. But you don’t. And he knows you wouldn’t do that, which is why you can see one barely open blue eye staring back at you from the mirror. He’s such a pain in the ass, but you love him. The world will collapse the day you actually acknowledge that though.

“You’re butt-ugly.” You mumble instead, playing with the damp strands of hair that refused to stand up the way they did before his deployment. You didn’t know much about the military dress code but you’d be surprised if he wasn’t violating any regulations with how his hair looked.

“Yer mum would disagree.” Johnny gave another hearty laugh and leaned more into you with his back. It really felt great to be back home. He could’ve still lived with his parents and sisters back on that farm, but as much as he loved them, relatives were too much sometimes. Maybe he should visit them soon with you. That’d be great. Johnny just has to explain beforehand that you’re only roommates, so it doesn’t turn into a big mess, that he’d hate to sort out.

“You don’t even know my mum, you wanker.” You slap Johnny on the shoulder lightly and he doesn’t even flinch. “Come on, straighten up.” He reluctantly obeys and gets up from his unusual resting position, you hear no verbal protests from him. With a light, gentle motion your hand ruffles his hair in approval.

“I’m sure she’s a woman of refined taste.” This earns Soap another slap to the shoulder, to which he laughs like a damn schoolboy. Your eyes are glued to his hair, studying it carefully. You didn’t have much experience even trimming it on somebody else, so this was a bit nerve-wracking – you didn’t want to mess up and make Johnny look worse. Although not a lot of things could look genuinely bad on the man, you were willing to admit that. You finally take the scissors that have been sitting on the edge of the sink for the past half hour and pinch the longer stand that fell over Johnny's eyes between your index and middle fingers. “Well, what are you waiting for? Cut it.” He tries to hurry you, and you can’t even see the way he observes your expression - brows tied together in a thoughtful frown, Johnny thought it looked quite cute.

“Shut up, I’m thinking.” Your eyes rise to the mirror again and he playfully rolls his eyes. He doesn’t say anything though, letting you take your time, as you put down the scissors. You start ruffling Johnny’s hair again and you see the way he closes his eyes in the reflection, a warm smile stretching his lips. Your hand rests on the side of his face for a moment and not even a second passes, before you feel Soap’s palm rest over it in a gentle motion. But it doesn’t end on it, when he rubs his cheek over your skin, his stubble scratching you slightly. You let him have this moment though.

You look at his hair, as you ruffle and play with it using your free hand, and your realization makes you want to bash your head on the wall. You like it better like this. This is stupid and you feel like an idiot. At least you had an idea on how you can tell Johnny that you changed your mind about cutting his hair. Your fingers dive into his hair again, scratching the scalp lightly with the nails as you give your final verdict, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“I don’t think I can make it any worse than it already is, to be honest. Somebody fucked you over real good with that one.” You lie right to his face. Johnny opens his eyes and gives you a mischievous smile when he hears that.

“So, what I hear is you’re chickening out?’ He asks with a light, airy laugh that makes even the cold bathroom feel warmer.

“Johnny, get out of here before I shave you bald”

check out my masterlist or send me a request/comment!

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty mwii #call of duty x reader #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x gn!reader #soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish #cod soap #soap call of duty #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw fanfiction #mw2 2022 #mw2 soap #mw2022

[aaagustd]

maid for you | min yoongi

title: maid for you

pairing: painter/vamp!yoongi x maid/vamp!(f)reader

genre/rating: smut, supernatural, 18+

summary: you can’t deny it; you’re f*cked. 

wc: 1.6k

warnings: mentions bl**d and m*rder, bl**d consumption, pet names, f*ngering, squ*rting, teasing, begging, swearing, errors maybe because i didn't look over this, let me know if i missed something

release date: march 10th, 2024; 12:09am est

note: so i was watching death’s game and got a little inspired lol. i’ve been trying to dabble in writing vampire fics so this might be a little cringe. anyway happy birthday to the loml. i’m still writing like 3 other fics for him this month, but until then… you all enjoy. divider by cafekitune.

my masterlist | join my taglist | read on ao3 | inbox

“Son of a bitch.”

You nearly slip and fall right on your ass when you enter the studio. Once again, he’s brought home some innocent sack of flesh and carved them into a masterpiece. 

The fear still lingers in the scent of the scarlet liquid smeared across the floor. You push your own impulses to the back of your mind as you begin to clean up Yoongi’s mess like the “loyal” servant you are.

Not like you have a choice; it’s either this—or death.

Unlike the other creatures who have survived for eons in this world, your thirst for human blood has never been fulfilled. Though it calls your name as you drag the heavy mop across the porcelain tile, you can’t imagine indulging when you’re surrounded by humans everyday outside of this place.

You still have to live the life of someone who isn’t a freak. You aren’t some legacy put here to extend bloodlines. You’re just the product of a drunken night between strangers whose life should have ended in your twenties.

You’re just the one who didn’t die.

Every second you spend in this room makes you want to leave and never come back, but you know it is impossible. You made a deal with the devil for your life; there is no backing out.

After an hour or so, the room is spotless again. 

As you’re cleaning the last section of the floor, you notice some of Yoongi’s artwork on the wall. Your face contorts into a grimace, knowing that there are people out there purchasing these. Somebody’s family member’s bodily fluids is splashed onto a canvas and is hanging on display in some billionaire’s home. It makes you angry knowing that it should have been you. 

“Fucking asshole… I’m not cleaning this shit up anymore—Oh!”

You bump into something hard while you’re walking backwards. Thinking you’ve hit a wall, you don’t expect to see anyone when you turn around. 

“Oh, you aren’t?”

Yoongi just stands there, watching you scramble for words.

“I-I didn’t know you were here. I…That was—”

“Save it,” he interrupts.

Once you are silenced, you lower your head. You feel a bit of shame burning in your cheeks, but it’s the least of your worries if he heard everything you’ve been saying while you thought you were alone.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to snap your neck if I felt like it.”

Shit. What the hell were you thinking? 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean any of that.”

“Don’t lie,” he snaps. 

He takes a step forward, and you take one back. You try to keep a safe distance between you as if you have a chance to escape. He’d catch you before you could leave the room.

“You’re an ungrateful little bitch, you know that?”

Unfortunately, you don’t know the room as well as you thought you did because your lower back hits a table, leaving you with nowhere else to go.

“I was just venting. Tell me you aren’t that old!”

He approaches you with his arms folded, leaving only a few inches to spare. 

“Baby, you won’t live to see this age,” he boasts. “You don’t even feed yourself properly.”

“Who cares?”

He dips his fingers in a tiny drop of blood next to his tools. You scold yourself for missing something in plain sight, but you have to admit that your mind has been a little fuzzy lately.

“I used to care… But since you don't, why should I?”

You turn away when he tries to touch you with his crimson painted fingertip. The smell makes your nostrils flare, but you continue to fight the temptation. When you don’t accept his bloody digit, he places it on his tongue and savors the salty liquid coating his skin.

“Fuck you.”

“Point proven,” he concludes.

You still won’t look at him, but that doesn’t stop Yoongi from staring directly at you, observing reactions. “If you hate it so bad, why don’t you just end it?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

The couple of inches that stood between you are now gone as he steps closer. He’s so close that you’re afraid he’ll hear your thoughts if you aren’t careful. 

“What are you afraid of?... Going to hell?”

You scoff. “This is hell.”

Suddenly, he grabs your face, forcing you to look into his dark orbs. You remember them being just as hypnotizing when you met him; if only you’d known them what you know now. You would have ran in the opposite direction.

“But you love it here. Don’t you?”

You aren’t sure if your body craves his attention, or if you’re just desperate to feel something—anything to feel the emptiness inside of you.

“I do,” you utter. “Why can’t I hate you?”

Yoongi leans in, his soft lips gently grazing yours to see if you’ll flinch. You don’t move an inch, and his smirk begins to spread across his face.

“Because you want me just as bad as I want you.”

You’re still within his grasp, but too drunk with what seems like lust to pull away. You don’t want to. Every part of you wants to be his; only he understands the type of hunger you’re experiencing.

He’s the only one who’s capable of satisfying your appetite. 

“All you have to do is admit it.”

His cold touch makes you weak in your knees. You have to grip his biceps when you suddenly lose your balance, and with quickness he releases his hold and wraps an arm around your waist.

“I’m waiting,” he reminds you, and you don’t hesitate to give him your response.

“Please, just touch me.”

When you kiss him, he’s the one who melts in your arms. You hold him tightly as both of you stand there kissing and tugging at each other’s clothes. Your lips smack as they crash together, causing a sound that resonates through the room. 

You feel Yoongi’s cold hand move underneath your dress, slowly making its way to your underwear. A moan escapes your swollen lips when he finds your center, exposing your eagerness to feel him inside of you.

“Damn,” he whispers, discovering that you’re already dripping. 

His fingers tease your entrance, making you squirm with need. You beg him for more, and he doesn’t deny you.

“Please.”

“I got you,” he assures.

Your body shudders as two of his digits slip into your pussy. You can barely hold yourself because the intrusion is so overwhelming.

“Fuck, Yoongi.”

“Good?”

“Mhm.”

His thumb caresses your throbbing clit, causing more of your wetness to drip down your thighs. Your hips move in a circular motion, silently begging Yoongi for more.

It is then that he slowly begins to fuck you with his fingers, burying them up to the knuckles in your heat. You grip the table as he speeds up, knowing it won’t take much to get you off. 

Yoongi attacks your neck with his fangs; biting gently into your flesh and moaning from the taste of you.

“Feels so good,” you pant into his ear.

He curves his fingers while they’re deep inside your core, and targets your most sensitive areas. The pads of his digits rub against the rough patch of your walls with precision, and within seconds your juices are gushing everywhere.

“Shit, I’m going to cum…”

You cry out in pleasure, holding onto Yoongi with all your might as your body trembles and shakes. 

Yoongi keeps going, admiring the waterfall flowing from underneath your dress. Your eyes roll back, drool forming at the corners of your lips as you babble and whine from sensitivity. 

“Look who’s making a mess now,” Yoongi teases.

You can’t even feel embarrassed because your body is still coming down from its peak. You’re weak, too spent to defend yourself. You aren’t even sure what you’d say. What could you say?

There’s a puddle where you stand.

When Yoongi finally removes his fingers, he leaves you empty and still wanting more. Your head rests on his chest as you regain your strength.

“I didn’t kill you, did I?”

You laugh. “No.”

After the high wears off, you’re left drowning in your thoughts. They’re all over the place, but you’re certain about one thing. You’re far from satisfied, but you aren’t sure what it is that you want.

“I guess you’re leaving now,” Yoongi says, breaking the silence.

You clear your throat, thinking before you speak so your answer isn’t driven by lust. You know once you step into this world, there’s no going back. The only question on your mind is, what’s really waiting for you outside of here?

“I don’t have to.”

“Hm, is that right?”

Yoongi pulls away so he can look into your restless eyes. He can probably see the internal war going on inside of you from where he stands. You’re long past what’s right and what’s wrong. It makes no sense to keep denying the truth when it’s right in your face.

“This is driving me crazy.”

“Oh, really?” he quizzes. “...Or maybe you can’t get enough of me now?”

“A little bit of both, honestly.”

“I just don’t want you to think you don’t have any options.”

You nod. “You think I’m afraid of you?”

“Are you?”

“A little, but I’m still curious,” you answer truthfully. “What’s the worst that can happen? You turn me into a painting?”

“I might.”

You smirk. “That’s hot.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, sweetheart. We should go for a ride.”

“I’d like that.”

The look he gives you could undress a nun. Hell, you struggle to keep your panties on after he winks. You smile as he kisses your forehead and your cheek before he whispers in your ear.

“Good. Now clean up my fucking floor, and meet me downstairs.”

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fics #yoongi fics #yoongi imagines #bts imagines #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fanfic #aaagustd.fics

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

I would love a fic with Aemond and a blind!reader. I think it would be an interesting relationship dynamic! Maybe she lives at the castle? Daughter of someone who is on the court or of someone who works there? Free reign!

How could you be so blind?

Aemond x blind!reader / AO3 Link

A/N: sorry it took me soooo long to get to this one, but I wanted to take my time with it! It's not long, but it's cute fluff <3 thank you for requesting this!

Warnings: none, just fluff, Aegon being Aegon

...

“My Prince, are you alright?” 

Criston Cole was about to swing his weapon again until he realised that the Prince had dropped his shield to his side, his other still gripping the handle of his sword overly firm. Aemond hissed at the feeling of the cold metal on his new wound, dropping his shield almost instantly at this uncomfortable ache. 

Aemond grimaced and looked down at his hand, groaning at the sight of a new, line shaped wound that extended across the back of his hand. It had been his own fault and he’d known it. He was reluctant to remember how many times Ser Criston ever told him he should not hold his shield the way he does, otherwise the force of a strike may injure his hands. And yet, he had not listened before and here he was. Blood dripping down his hand and soaking against the leather cuff of his clothes, the sting continued to overwhelm his left hand. 

“It is alright, only a scratch” Aemond said through somewhat gritted teeth.

Criston had known him for too long to know he was putting on a brave face, as he always did. 

Abandoning the weapon, Criston shook his head. 

“Let me see”

Aemond stood back, almost tucking the wounded hand behind himself, pretending as if it never happened.

“I am alright, let’s continue”

“My Prince, I cannot allow you to train injured. You may injure yourself further” 

Letting out an annoyed sigh, Aemond had to accept that once again Ser Criston was right. There was no use in continuing to train with blood dripping from his fingers and a pain like no other shooting to his joints. Though he refused to go quietly, that much was certain.

With several huffs of annoyance and pain, Aemond abandoned his own weapons and training to sit in at the maester, who after cleaning the blood from the wound, simply applied some salve and cloth to keep the area away from dirt. 

Quickly feeling the beginning of a migraine coming on, the last thing he needs at his lunch hour is his brother echoing down the hallway, even the sound of his voice proving to annoy the second son further. 

To his utter dismay, Aegon was not alone, and in through the stone hallways echoed the pointed shoes of his mother and sister, all uncharacteristically together. 

“Aemond” Alicent’s sweet voice echoed slightly across the room, smile fading once she saw how his fingers were pressed against his head, “are you alright?”

Aemond almost felt bad. Not wanting to concern his mother this way.

“I am fine, mother. There is no need to worry”

Aeogn threw a lob-sided smile in his direction, sitting down to retrieve a trusty cup of wine.

“What happened to your hand then?” he smirked, “Ser Criston finally get the better of you?”

“Aemond, your hand” Alicent lifted his hand to inspect, only for her son to tear it away, not wishing to burden her with his injury.

“It is nothing, I have been to the maester for the wound. It will heal with time”

Alicent knew better than to push any further and at the same time, did not want to baby Aemond as he progressed into adulthood. Her brown eyes looked down at him for a moment and gave him a comforting smile and knew to drop the conversation altogether. 

“Well, at least give our guests the courtesy of a smile when they arrive” Alicent said quietly, picking at her skirts and making for the doorway.

“Guests?”

Alicent turned to Aemond, brows furrowed in confusion at his question. She had told him about it just the night before.

“Yes, we are to receive a new member of the Small Council”

“Even I remembered and I am several wines deep” Aegon smirked, downing the cup in his hand. 

Aemond groaned, eye rolling to the back of his head and the heel of his hand pushed harder against his forehead. Of course, he had completely forgotten and his mood at the moment did not permit meeting new people.

“Mother, I am in no mood…” Aemond started. Alicent’s smile dropped and she joined her hands,

“Aemond” her voice was more stern than he was used to, and his good eye looked back at his mother, “at least just be there. You do not have to say anything”

Alicent made for the exit and Aegon revelled in the idea that the oh-so-good second son had upset his mother in this way. Usually it was Aegon bearing the brunt of a mother’s scornful gaze, but it was nice and refreshing for him to gloat a little.

“Yes, brother” Aegon staggered to his feet, completely ignoring their sister as he pushed to follow Alicent, “Put on a good face. Although that may be difficult for you”

Helaena followed without a word, almost hating this as much as Aemond did. Once alone, he let out a heavy sigh and pushed himself groggily to his feet, taking as much time as he needed to follow behind. He really was not in the mood for this. 

He paused before entering the foyer, already hearing the echoed voices of a new man speaking in pleasantries and useless small talk. Hand laced behind his back, he took his place behind Aegon and Helaena, eye slightly closed to resist the sharp pain of the light that might make his headache even worse. Barely even listening to the quiet echoes of his mother, the clatter of heels on the stone floor rapped at his aching head more so.

“Your Grace, this is my daughter”

There was a short silence before a small, quiet voice responded, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. Please extend my thanks to the King for granting my Father this position”

Alicent seemed genuinely stunned for a moment, finding her words, “The pleasure is all mine, my Lady”

Scrunching his eye closed, expectant to make his greetings shortly, Aemond opened his eye a slither, seeing the blurred silhouettes of the Lord and Lady before his mother. He could not make out the woman, blocked by the form of her father as his back faced them.

“And may I introduce you to my children, Aegon, Helaena and Aemond”

Aemond made the effort to open his eye more so. The man was portly, but tall and sent a bow and a small smile, the woman next to him having an unusually strong hold on his arm. They stood before Aegon first,

“Prince Aegon” her voice was quiet still, despite being so close and he could see her extend herself to curtsy before his brother. 

Aegon, as per, had that stupidly drunken grin on his face, searching the woman’s face before him. Cocking his head slightly, he smiled back and kissed her hand, her expression never changed. 

Before Helaena, both of the women curtsied and the silver-haired woman seemed to regard her closely in front of her, perhaps seeing something others did not. But she remained silent and with a similar temperament, greeted her quietly. 

Aemond had not known what to expect when the father and daughter duo landed upon him. Of course, Aemond nodded in greeting to the Lord first before allowing his good eye to land on the woman next to him. Her arm was linked with her father’s, fingers gripped at the sleeve. As if not knowing exactly where she was stood, she took a baby step forward towards Aemond, eyes vacant and staring ahead.

“Prince Aemond” she greeted quietly. As with custom, he took her other hand softly and placed a kiss to it, his eye never leaving her face. She never moved once, save the ever-present chaste smile on her features. And while she stood before him for a moment, he studied all her features, a touch of curiosity tugging at him greatly.

“My Lady” 

He had surprised himself with the greeting, having not thought before the words left his mouth and something tight like a vine wrapped about his chest. 

“My Lord, shall I introduce you to the King, to make your pleasantries” Alicent piped up to cut through the air.

The father simply nodded without a sound, tugged back by the whisper of his daughter.

“Father, might I walk about?” she asked, eyes still straight ahead, vision not shifting.

As if forgetting he nodded, “Your Grace, might the Princess Helaena accompany my daughter through the Keep?

It is a new place, your Grace and she does not know her way about”

Alicent smiled comfortingly and gestured to her daughter, who uncharacteristically raised her head and smiled at the prospect of female company. 

“Of course. Helaena, darling, would you?” 

Helaena nodded enthusiastically and had that child-like smile on her face now, hopping over to the woman as her father gently placed her arm in Helaena’s. He watched almost in pride as the two women walked away, the murmured whispers of the young women audible to those walking by.

“Thank you, Princess. Do be slow with me, I fear my feet cannot keep up” the woman laughed, her hand finding its natural place in Helaena’s.

As the pair walked away, the brother’s were left with two differing versions of curiosity. Aegon with a smirk on his and Aemond’s blank, with the desire to fill his head with more of her.

“Blind, most of her life. Shame, she would be quite pretty if not for that”

Aemond resisted the urge to roll his eye.

“You are insufferable”

Aegon furrowed his brows, almost offended, “What? Perhaps it is a blessing she is blind, so she does not have to see your miserable face”

Tsk.

“Better my miserable face than your constant indecent quips”

Aemond felt his fist clench uncontrollably behind his back. Aegon half-turned on the spot to google his brother, one eyebrow raised as if mocking.

“What has gotten into you, brother? Cuntstruck already?”

Aemond could practically feel the burning behind his forehead now, getting more and more agitated at his brother’s neverending mocking.

“Perhaps I sympathise” Aemond said flatly, his broad body facing Aegon now, “or perhaps I am just sick of hearing your voice”

“Either way, I do not give a fuck. Frankly, it amuses me to think there is one good eye between you” 

Aemond could hear how proud his brother was of himself as Aegon slinked down the hallway out of sight, careful to not push his brother too far. But far enough it seemed, as Aemond felt his teeth pierce his lip in annoyance. 

He scanned the hallway, hoping to at least have looped back to bump into her and his sister. But there was no sign of them until much later, when Aemond happened upon the two young women in the gardens. The sight before him made him smile properly for the first time in a while, seeing his sister talking erratically and excitedly. She was knelt before the woman, hands placed out to her to allow a caterpillar Helaena had found to crawl its way onto her skin.

“Oh, it tickles” the lady said, her body tensing and trying her best not to laugh, shaking in her attempt. 

The sound of Helaena’s genuine laugh brushed through the spring trees and the other woman’s too as the insect crawled up her arm.

“Does he have hairs?” she asked.

Helaena looked up wide with glee, “This species do, they use them to sense vibrations in the ground, since they have no eyes”

The woman nodded in understanding and a silence fell onto the Princess, her expression immediately falling, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to offend!”

Helaena looked worriedly at the woman before her, fearing that she was too nice to retaliate to what the Princess perceived as a cruel joke.

But the woman simply shook her head, letting a quiet laugh escape, “There is no need to worry, Princess. I thought nothing of it” 

The woman’s hands hovered over where she thought the caterpillar was, picking the small creature up with her delicate fingers to lay in her palm. Satisfied that her new friend had not been offended with her words, Helaena smiled and took the creature back to lay him back in the grass. 

“I am grateful for your company, Princess. Thank you for taking me around the Keep, it is difficult to memorise on my own” 

Helaena shook her head, “It is alright, my pleasure, my Lady. I hope we can become better acquainted as friends”

Helaena smiled hopefully, “I would like that very much”

She almost squealed with delight at the prospect of a friend, squeezing her hands tightly. 

“If you will excuse me, I will see you tonight for supper”

The young woman nodded, ever a smile on her soft features. She could hear the soft footsteps of the Princess walking away, a sigh escaping her chest as the sound of muffed leaves swayed in the wind. 

Aemond had watched the entire time, mouth slightly open as if to say something. He would not like to admit it to himself, but he was curious about her. She seemed to have a cheerful personality and a smooth, sweet laugh that claimed the dark silence in the air around her. And at first, Aemond was shocked to hear that she was blind. Were it not for her motions, he would never have guessed. 

Her eyes were light and clouded, not dissimilar to a bright white cloud in the sky.

“I can hear you, Prince Aemond”

His heart stopped in his chest as her head turned in his direction, a breath caught in his throat at being caught. Was she lying this whole time about her sight? Surely there was no explanation other than this, he thought.

Then she left a giggle free, “I can hear your footsteps and breathing. I don’t think you are as light-footed as you think”

His chest unclenched at her joking nature, a smile once more making its way slowly on his face, knowing that she would not be able to see and mock him for it.

With this acceptance, he approached her and stood before her seated form.

“I apologise, my Lady. I did not mean to pry” 

She shook her head, “Not at all. Would you like to join me”

Pulling his cuffs back over his wrists, he sat beside her, eye never leaving her.

“Your sister is lovely”

“Hm” he hummed in response, “I think she is happy to finally have some female company” his fingers ran over the bandage on the back of his hand, “I have never seen her so happy”

She clasped her hands together on her lap, using one of her thumbs to run over the other. A nervous gesture perhaps?

“It will be nice, seeing as my father has been graced with his position” 

“Your family intends to stay in residence”

She nods slowly, “I believe so”

“Good” 

Aemond spoke without even thinking, panic settling into his head and neck getting hot once he realised she bit her lip, smiling to hold a giggle inside, “Uh-u…I only meant that…it would be good to know you better. If we are to share the same table”

She nodded still smiling, knowing how flustered he had been.

“Thank you, Prince Aemond” she paused, “although, I do not think your brother feels the same way” 

Aemond was about to open his mouth to say something, kicking himself that she had heard what Aegon had said.

“I urge you not to worry. I have been blind long enough to grow thick skin” she smiles again, and Aemond wonders how someone can be so happy.

“It is still no excuse for his words”

She scoffed, “I don’t think he cares if he offends me or not. I have learned to live with it”

I have learned to live with it, those words echoed in his head for minutes after she had said it. And he felt all but vulnerable again, like a child. 

“I was not born blind” she said, answering the question before Aemond had the opportunity to consider even asking it.

“Although, I was too young to appreciate having sight. It’s funny isn’t it?” she turns to him, but unknowing where exactly he was, her eyes were still focussed past him.

Aemond furrowed his brows, confused, “What is?”

“That you don’t appreciate what you have until it is gone”

It was Aemond’s turn to scoff now, and he did, turning away slightly.

“I’m not sure I would consider it funny” he replied, slightly hurt that he could relate perfectly. 

“Perhaps funny is not the right word, then”

She placed her hands on the bench at the side of her to readjust, unknowingly brushing her hand passed Aemond’s and she flinched, as if he were hot to the touch.

“I apologise”

He murmured a response.

“I use my hands too much” she excuses herself again and he has not observed this until she just said it. But she did reach out for things to check what exactly it was, “It is how I see” she laughs at her own joke, and Aemond feels the mischievous air radiate off her, already feeling as if he knew her better.

“Do you see any light?” he asks, genuinely wondering.

She does a half nod, “I see silhouettes of people. If I focus very well I can see your outline, but even that has gotten worse”

“If people allow I sometimes touch their faces, to see what they look like” she pauses, using her hands with her speaking, “But people usually find that quite strange”

Aemond nodded, understanding what she meant.

“Does it help you?” he asks and he smiles when she returns with a sharp nod, her cheeks rounding up with her smile. 

“My hands are my eyes” she continues, and he relishes in the sound of her voice, “when the eyes are affected, the hands reach out for what is before them”

She spoke in such riddles, sometimes it confused him. Or rather her words were like poetry, as if she had rehearsed what she was going to say. Perhaps that was something Aegon might want to start practicing.

Aemond puts his hand in the air before her, hovering over hers. 

“And what do you feel?” he asks.

She has a confused look on her face for a moment before bumping her hands up to meet his large one, hers were so small in comparison. She emitted a small oh in surprise at feeling his hand was so close to hers and Aemond could see the pure concentration on her face as her delicate fingers ran over his injured hand. Her touch so soft that it did not feel in the least bit painful.

“I feel…” she paused for dramatic effect, “...a hand”

Aemond scoffed at her joking nature.

“Sorry” she half-joked, hands still on his skin. He watched as her fingers studied at him in patience.

“Your hands are large, good for fighting and holding a sword.

Hm…your fingertips are coarse. And you have callouses on the heel of your palm. Perhaps you like to train a lot.

Hmm”

Her hands made their way over one side to the other, pausing as her fingers rested on the bandage.

“You’ve hurt yourself and the bandage is fresh…

No scars other than that. This is not your dominant hand”

Aemond raised his eyebrows, half-shocked and half-impressed at her ability to draw such conclusions. Like those palm readers in King’s Landing.

“You have slender wrists…you were a small child”

Aemond observed her now and her face, her tongue slipping over her lip to concentrate once more. When she is finished, she does not retreat her hands.

“Very good” he said after a short silence and that smile graces her once more. 

Taking in a sharp breath, he turns his body to face her, taking her hands in both of his easily. With his thumbs massaging her palms, he lifts them to place at his jaw.

“What about here?” he asks.

He can tell she is shocked that he has allowed her to touch his face. And she wonders if she should refuse him, feigning nervousness. But curiosity of her own gets the better of her and she is in no position to refuse a Prince. So she applies pressure to either side of his face, but still soft to Aemond.

So much so his eye closes at the feeling of her ghostly hands across his features. 

She traced his jaw, cupping his angular chin, and he no longer wishes to watch her as she does this. Instead opting to disappear in this feeling, her warm hands upon him.

Her thumbs symmetrically glide on his undereye, one tracing the contour of his eye and the other the pattern of this leather eyepatch. And then over the bottom of the scar. But her touch doesn’t falter, as if it is the most usual thing in the world. Her fingers fiddle with the strap of it for a moment before passing over his nose and then to his forehead, and all memory of the migraine he once had was completely gone. Her touch was healing and the throbbing began to dissipate back into his muscles.

He almost sighed out loud as her nimble and small fingertips found their way into his hairline, passing across the follicles and eliciting a feeling of pure bliss. Perhaps it was the feeling of being understood. Or perhaps it was just having the soft, delicate touch of someone.

Her fingers passed over his locks and he opened his eye once again to look at her. He knew she would not be able to see it, but he was smiling contently down at her. 

Her hands retreated, remaining suspended in the air between them and she swore she could feel the current of his breath against them.

“Well?” he asked quietly.

Her tongue came to lick at her lips again as she formed a reply in her head.

“I think you have had a difficult time”

Her words hit him deeply, not like a kick to the chest but that feeling of having the curtains drawn quickly and being woken. He felt his very outer shell begin to peel away, like a peach that she had sunk her thumb into. But not pried open, but rather overripe and splitting of its own accord. Merely needing the touch to splay open.

He swallowed thickly, a feeling of comfort washing over him, knowing that he was being truly seen.

“And you have beautiful hair” 

#aemond fic #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond angst #aemond fluff #aemond fandom #aemond fanfiction #aemond stannies #hotd fanfic #hotd fluff #aemond targaryen x y/n #prince aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond oneshot #aemond drabble #house of the dragon fandom #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon

[captainjamster]

Observation Duty

Pairing(s): Price x fem!Reader Warnings: Manipulation, stalking, monitoring and surveillance, obsessive behaviour, non-consensual voyeurism, non-consensual mutual masturbation, non-consensual recording and photos Wordcount: 3.2k Summary: John isn't quite the captain everyone thinks he is, but he knows just how to act like it. No one would ever believe the things he does behind closed doors. AO3 Link: Right here! <3

A/N: PLEASE LOOK AT THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ MORE! This is the first part of what should be two chapters, because I can't stop starting things without finishing them <3

If I miss any tags you think should be there, please let me know!

Full fic under the cut <3

John’s line of work has taught him that people are so, so easy to play with. Know the right person, the right place. Know what to say, who to say it to.

Keeping you safe, under his ever-observant eye, is easy in the barracks and on the field. You don’t make a single move he doesn’t see or hasn’t approved. But when you go home, away from him and his control, he just can’t help but worry. Are you safe, alone in that big, empty house? What do you get up to? Are you eating and drinking? Taking care of yourself? Who do you see? Do you invite anyone around? The idea of another man in your home makes him shudder, and in your bedroom isn’t something he even entertains. John needs to do something about it.

He’s been thinking for a while. Some way to watch you, every waking moment. A permanent eye on the wall. He knows your address; it’s right there in your files. There isn’t a single legal document or piece of information about you that he can’t obtain if he wants to. Every place you’ve lived, your parents, extended family, even your friendship circles. Your school results, community hobbies, bank purchases, every doctors trip – especially your birth control and fertility, he paid very close attention to those details. He knows how to play you; he listens to your grumbling, observes what makes you happy. Notices the moments where you’re less resistant, records what makes you flare up in defensiveness or fury. John is a well-educated man, one who could’ve been a scholar in another life, and he’s decided his favourite topic to study is you.

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“Remember to fill out your forms, lads. New policies coverin’ house insurance and maintenance, let me know if y’need any fixin’ at home.” He hands out the papers, carefully keeping yours separate without being too obvious. Soap’s head bobs up, glancing at you and taking the bait John has set out perfectly. “Oi bonnie, weren’t ye chattin’ ‘bout fixin’ a light o’ somethin’?”

Your face lights up at the mention, a bashful smile gracing your lips, and John would be mad that it’s not in his direction if he wasn’t so satisfied with himself. “I can’t believe you remembered that, yeah! I was going to wait until I got home.”

Gaz hums, hunched over his own form as he signs it. “Maybe Ghost can buy a piece of furniture this year.” His sentence is rewarded with a pen smacking into the side of his head, bouncing off him and onto the table as Ghost snorts in amusement, answering gruffly. “Fuck off, Garrick.”

It never goes wrong, but he still feels smug at how effortless it is to orchestrate an entire conversation before it starts. Getting your signature is as easy as an extra sheet, you can’t even tell the difference. No one reads terms and conditions, and he’s made extra sure you don’t - a couple of edited test forms a few months ago - to rule out the chance.

With the paperwork completed, he contacts the company and gives them a boring, digestible cover story. “Yeah, her husband. Installing cameras, yeah. Keepin’ it safe while we’re both on deployment. Just a light out the back to fix, cameras to install in and outside.”

They’re so quick to listen to the man playing the big, strong head of the house, not a single question about why everything but the payment would be in his ‘wife’s’ name instead. Lying, John finds, is easiest when others do the work for you; give vague details that seem right, and let them come to their own little conclusions. Let them assume you’re some kind of military wife who doddles along behind him, just an obedient little civilian pet while he organises the household. If only they knew what you were and what you did, he thinks. Though still, an obedient little pet is how he would like you. It just takes time to get there.

They come over and install the cameras in less than a week. John’s antsy the day he gets the call that they finished, waiting for it to be over so he can experiment with his new toy. He ignores the questioning looks from his inferiors as he dismisses his last evening meeting early, pushing out the door into the stream of soldiers heading for dinner, only departing from the pack when he reaches his office door.

John prepared a room for this in advance – the moment he set the plan in motion. A room at home, his central control that he could run unmanned and long-distance, circumnavigating his occupancy at the base. It’s almost undetectable; no pesky windows to peek in from the outside, entry hidden behind a locked door in his office. The numerous screens flicker to life, illuminating the room in a blue glow. The cameras are perfect; detailed quality, blur-less zoom. Every angle. It quickly becomes his favourite room to be in, despite only being in it once when he headed home to initially set everything up.

At the base, all he needs is an electronic device and an app to access the command. His favourite to use is his phone, flicking through each screen to take in the rooms, committing each detail and decoration to heart. Though to keep up all professional appearances, he often settles for his laptop, flicking between reports and gazing at the screens with every spare second. John takes the weeks leading up to break to memorise your house, seeing each room flickering on the back of his eyelids as lies in bed, tracing each path you’d take morning and night until he falls asleep.

He protects it. Types your address into his maps app, virtually scouting the neighbourhood to make sense of all your outside cameras, memorising every surrounding street. Plans escape routes, recording positions of defence and any weak spots he could reinforce, windows or vents that are just too easy to wrench open by perverse men like him. Within a month, he knows your house plan like his own; enough to contemplate how he would reorganise it if you wanted him to move in, how many little ones it could hold, tiny feet pattering up and down its hallways.

--- ︻デ═一 ---

When the last week before leave finally comes around, he’s beyond ecstatic. John is a carefully controlled slate around anyone else, but his boys know each twitch of his eyebrow and quirk of his lip. They clue you in to his unusually excited behaviour with teasing jokes and remarks that have him rolling his eyes, gruffly ordering them back to work. Soap is betting on a secret missus, making a point to sneak up behind Price when Soap catches him texting away on his phone.

When he finally arrives home, he’s delighted to see your house is still empty. It gives him time to unpack, running loads of laundry and showering. He keeps an eye on his phone, monitoring the screens until he finishes, bringing a cup of coffee and dinner to his little surveillance room.

The screens fill the wall, a 3x3 set-up that basks the room in a pale glow, yet still isn’t enough to display every camera hidden around your house. Everything is silent, the occasional rumble of a car getting his hopes up, but nothing happens until a few sips of his coffee and an article later. Movement from one of the screen catches his attention, his head straightening to watch your front door swing open.

A bag is the first thing that comes through the door, flung down the hallway with a dull thud. Your figure follows it in, heaving another heavy bag behind you. John frowns at the sight, mindlessly tutting as he crosses his arms. He could be there to do that for you. None of this silly straining yourself.

Leaning back and settling in, he watches how you unravel from your long absence. It pleases him that you’re practical in your return, taking the time to wash your laundry, circulate and dispel all the stagnant air (although Price dislikes seeing your windows open, so unattended), and give the place a general tidy up. There’s a ping from your phone a few times that puts John on edge. Who’s texting you already, when you’ve been back for less than a day? His prominent guess is family and close friends, excited to have their beloved child home and safe, but he can’t help from worrying that he’s wrong. Maybe you’re so pent up that you just can’t help it, using those silly dating apps you talk about with Gaz, eager for someone to unravel all that need within you. Maybe it’s an old friends-with-benefits situation you already have that’s eager to climb back in your bed. Maybe – maybe he should bug your devices.

His deliberations are disrupted as you reward your productivity with what Price thinks to be a party in your bathroom. The small haven of what should be privacy isn’t free from his omniscient gaze, either. He doesn’t care if it’s disgusting; there are no boundaries to him. There isn’t a single side of you he doesn’t want to see, doesn’t want to know.

The music comes through his speakers, some songs he recognises from the long travels spent in transport together. Melodies echo through your room as steam slowly gathers, whisps streaming in and out of his lens view as water slowly fills the bath. You trail from the room, meandering down the hall and grabbing some snacks from the kitchen, filling a glass with a carbonated drink you grab from the fridge. Snug in the corner above the entryway, paired neatly with the fire alarm, his camera catches the way you bend yourself over the counter, distracted by scrolling through some app.

He feels himself throb at the sight, fumbling to take a screenshot of the image. You tease him, staying bent like that as you wait for the bath, your ass swaying occasionally when a trendy song hums from your phone. Disappointment washes through him when you stand up, though he basks in the sight of your stomach peaking from under your shirt as you stretch, but his excitement is quickly renewed when you gather your snacks and head back to the bathroom.

The room has filled with a thick fog that blooms out into the hallway as you open the door. It clouds his vision, leaving him cursing for not considering the possibility. Your darkened figure is hardly visible as you move throughout the room, but from the soft, metallic clicks and flickering of light, he assumes you’re lighting something. Two lights blossom in front of you, remaining behind you as you crouch at the bath and start flicking the lighter again. The cloud has dispersed enough to let John see the fuzzy details of your face, watching as you bring a third candle to your face, inhaling with a hum of delight before you light the flame and return it to the bath’s edge. You strew the candles about the room, leaving a large one to glow on your vanity and putting the other one on your closed toilet lid.

You fiddle with the taps – running cold water, he guesses – and sit on the floor, sorting your snacks onto a long tray as the last of the mist spills from the room. He’s been lucky this time; had you not been treating yourself, taking the time to create a small sanctuary, the fog would’ve concealed any chance of John seeing you at such a vulnerable time. A flaw within his system that requires refinement. Perhaps a flaw he can turn into an excuse to visit you.

His thoughts fall flat when you stand up, slotting the tray into its position over the bath and silencing the taps with a few sharp turns. Finally. The point he’s been anticipating.

The captain waits with bated breath, eager to salivate over his uninvited striptease. It’s far from the first time he’s seen you undress, though it’s the first time you’ve been so beautifully unaware. Close proximity (and the resulting lack of privacy) is just another test of comradery – he’s showered next to you in just underwear and ripped your shirt or pants off to treat a stab wound more times than he can count.

But this time you undress, you don’t stop at your underwear.

There’s no to palaver or parade to your performance – there’s no real performance, just a one-sided show, and that alone has John’s cock aching. Capturing you without filter, pretences or social expectations, no song and dance of captain and soldier. You’re clumsy pulling off your underwear, catching the elastic on your toes and throwing it haphazardly onto the floor with the rest of your clothes through curses and grumbles. Inspecting yourself in the mirror, catching up on each new scar and burn, bending over and peering around to see the state of your backside and between your thighs. This is a side of you he can never glimpse on base, despite all his attempts.

The buzz of your phone distracts you, straightening up with a right, okay! and grabbing the small device, unlocking it to peer at the content as you gingerly slide a foot into the hot, soapy water. Bit by bit, you emerge yourself within the sudsy liquid, minding the tray as you let out an audible groan. John watches you melt into the bubbles, arms resting along the tub as your head falls back.

For a while, the two of you remain like that; John sat comfortably in his chair, ignoring the heat flickering in his lower stomach as he works through some papers, keeping an eye on your relaxed form as you decompress within the hot, sudsy water, picking at the tray of food and drink. His attention slips as the minutes go by, becoming more focused on his work – pushing the aching need between his legs further to the side - as he checks the screen every ten minutes.

The swishing of water becomes a tranquil ambience as you scrub at yourself, low voices from your phone that John doesn’t currently care to make out keeping you entertained through the process. You luxuriate in the tub for much longer than the barrack would ever allow, taking your time to scrub the build-up of product and dead skin that you give little concern during deployment.

A paper absorbs his attention, keeping his eyes occupied as he grumbles through writing. His concentration is only torn away as he finishes scribbling his signature, a sharp, unexpected moan filling his ears that has him looking up so fast his neck cricks. Scanning the screen, he quickly determines that it’s not coming from you – rather, your phone, and is now accompanied by a deep, masculine groan.

Your expression is clear on his screen, a flush to your cheeks as you gaze at your device, hand running along your chest teasingly to tug at a nipple. Whether it’s from the pornographic material playing on your phone or the heat of the water, John can’t tell.

The tent of his pants is already insufferably tight, and he swears there’ll be a zipper print against the red of his aching cock when he pulls it out. He wants to relish this, commit each moment of this first time to memory without the taint of his lust, but he can’t help the growing need between his legs. Ignoring it to finish paperwork, merely bask in the company of your unwinding routine, has been a challenge even for his steeled resolve.

As he watches your hand trail down the soft pudge of your torso, dipping into the bubbly water to follow the rise and dip of your stomach, he breaks. His cock springs out of his briefs like it’s gasping for air, bouncing angrily against his stomach with each haphazard tug at the elastic around his hips. He can only imagine how your fingers work between your legs at that sensitive skin, how you orchestrate your undoing.

The tray holds your phone conveniently, allowing both hands to roam your body, and John thanks his luck for at least the opportunity to watch you pinch and roll your nipples between your fingers. You tug at the sensitive buds with whimpered moans, water sloshing as your hips buck against your hand, teasing John with actions that he can’t see.

He’s damp to the touch as he grips his shaft, fingers immediately sticky with precum that’s been smeared throughout his briefs. Pearlescent beads drool from his tip in a lazy stream, lubricating his motions as he tugs lightly at his foreskin, already teetering the edge of climax. The slightest stimulation has his stomach tightening, listening to your gasps and whines grow in urgency.

You chase your orgasm eagerly, working with a pent up need that comes from the absence of full privacy within the miliary. Convulsions rack through you in synchronisation, moans combining in a harmony he wishes wasn’t separated by the screen. He wants to time it perfectly; fuck up into his fist and release as you reach your own peak, as if a flawless synchronisation is key to unlocking some phantom sensation of being buried between your thighs, clenched down around him.

It doesn’t take much more teasing before you catch up, your tiles wet as water breaches the rim with each careless thrust. The video in front of you has ended, long forgotten as your head lulls back, lost in the sensations that envelope your consciousness that prove to be too much. They push you over the edge with a ragged cry, your knees peaking from the water as your thighs clench around your hand, and John loses himself too.

All it takes it a few weak thrusts into his hand before his balls are tightening, seed spilling in enthusiastic spurts, striping his shirt and pants before it dies down to a dribble that John coaxes out with a groan. He sits there, watching your breathing even out as you wipe away at your mess, spent and catching his breath as the cum dries on his clothes. You’re quick in cleaning up the mess, pulling yourself up on unsteady limbs as you pull the plug, bending down to rinse your hands one last time for John to relish.

He's almost heartbroken when you step out the tub, droplets cascading down to drip from your form, only to reach for a towel to wrap around yourself. The fabric is a slim cover, leaving glimpses of your behind and chest as you dry yourself, humming a tune with a note of content John wishes he brought instead. John tucks himself back into the soiled briefs, shucking off his shirt and pants to wash momentarily, but not before he glimpses you one last time getting changed.

Before you can reach for the underwear placed in advance on the sink and discard your towel, the camera barely picks up the vibration of your phone, catching both his and your attention. Leaning over to the tray, your process is halted by a text on your screen that makes you smile, and whether it’s the drunken, post-orgasmic haze that clouds his mind, or the way it makes him more vulnerable to the surge of jealousy that flares up at your giggle, John finds himself fumbling through the lockscreen and pulling up your contact before he can stop himself.

If you’re not going to think about him during your masturbation, he’s sure as hell going to make sure you think of him after.

Dividers by cafekitsune

#READ THE WARNINGS ON THIS ONE BABIES!!!! #price x reader #john price x reader #price x you #john price x you #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #jams writings #cw: noncon #cw: dubcon

[insilanar]

Any lestappen fic rec to share ? 😣 Any favourite author on ao3! I need some!

Hi anon 😘 Of course! In fact I've actually been working on a personal fic rec, so I'm glad I get to share it with you!

Here you go, hope you enjoy <3

Lestappen fic rec

Short-ish fics 🩵

control systems a College AU by @itsgoingdutchin2021 | 1.2 k

Summary:

Due to an unfortunate encounter in their freshman year, both Charles and Max hate each other. Then they are assigned a group project.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

your hands are cold a High School AU by dhufflebee | 3.9 k

Summary:

“I feel like this event should really be called ‘Frosty Fusion’ or something like that.”“That is, of course, incredibly stupid.”“Hey!”“It doesn’t mean that ‘Snowmen Competition’ isn’t the most boring name ever, though.”OR: long-time friends and rivals Charles and Max hail from neighboring schools, and brave the biting cold, the challenges of snow sculpture, and their own buried feelings

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Kiss It Goodbye (Your Little Panic Attack) F1 Fic by @celientjeee | 5.1 k

Summary:

‘What- How did you do that?’ Charles asked, he still felt a bit shaken and hot, but the tingling had disappeared.Max smiled at him and let his hands drop away from Charles’ cheeks.‘I once read that holding your breath could stop a panic attack and when I kissed you, you held your breath.’‘I did?’ Charles winced at how high his voice sounded. OR: Charles gets a panic attack and Max helps him (more than once)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Fics between 10 k and 20 k 🧡

Cheating at Bingo and Other Christmas Traditions a Cozy Winter AU by @wanderingblindly | 12.4 k

Summary:

"You know, there’s a very nice, very handsome young man in my neighborhood –” She starts back up, flagging down their waiter for another glass of wine.“Absolutely not,” He cuts her off with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Next topic.”“So you’re too good for him, is that it?” She sounds defensive, but her tone still has a mocking edge to it – emphasized by the quirk of her brows.Hardly holding back a groan, Charles tries to think of a way out of this. She’s like a cat, batting at him until he gives up, rolls over, and plays dead. “That’s not – I’m just busy, and it’s –” OR: Hallmark style fluff featuring an irritated Charles, a well-meaning Max, and the grandma that just wants them to kiss

Rating: General Audiences

<3

Golden Hour a Uni AU by Chariots4 | 13.2 k

Summary:

Max is a great roommate. So great that when Lando asks him to be part of a music video he’s filming he does so, without asking what it will be about.Turns out he will have to model with no other than Charles Leclerc. As lovers. The two men’s desire to not be outdone by the other takes the whole thing to new levels.

Rating: Explicit

-> This is also a personal favorite of mine since it was my first ever Formula 1 RPF fic and honestly, it's written amazingly well!👌

<3

oui chef a Chef AU by @sunshineyoujustwait | 16.2 k

Summary:

There’s someone standing in his kitchen.He looks young, maybe close to Max’s age, with messy dark brown hair that’s pulled back from his face by a red bandana, and he’s leaning against the kitchen counter like he’s supposed to be here.Max’s first rather unhelpful thought is; fuck, he’s gorgeous. His second, more reasonable thought is;“Who the fuck are you?”“Charles Leclerc,” the man smiles. It's a little bit dazzling and Max is not at all distracted by it. He extends his hand for Max to shake. “I’m your new executive sous chef.” OR: Max is very happy with his life, thank you very much. He has his restaurant, his team, and two Michelin stars at the age of 24. He definitely does not need some pretentious Monegasque chef coming in and throwing everything into chaos.Except, maybe he does.

Rating: General Audiences

<3

you got me a College AU by @fueledbyremembering | 16.6 k

Summary:

When Max looks up he stares into pretty green eyes behind black rimmed glasses. His hand is still blindly feeling around to find the books—his brain lagging—as he stares at the guy from last night. He straightens up and Max follows, staring dumbly as he holds out the books for Max to take.“Thanks,” Max says, feeling like an idiot as he takes the books, their fingers brushing for a split second. This was not how he wanted to meet again. “Again, I’m so sorry.”The guy smiles and Max thinks he might just die a little when he notices he has dimples. Of course he has dimples. OR: Max falls head over heels for the cute guy at a college party and he can't stop thinking about him (aka the lestappen college au nobody needs).

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Fics above 30 k ❤

Late night devil put your hands on me a Thief/Detective AU by @f1-giuki | 42.1 k

Summary:

"Do you want to know what is more incredible?" Max asks, staring at Charles' full and round pecs without any shame. "What?" Charles asks, enjoying how Max's cheeks get redder and redder as he licks clean the fork. "Stealing the Nine Pieces of Eight, with me," Max says and Charles drops his fork in the plate. "The Nine pieces of eight? Isn't that like a legend? The owner of those artworks is unknown…" The Monegasque asks, furrowing his brows. Max grins and rolls his eyes. "I know a guy..." Max says, pulling Charles close by the elastic band of his boxers. OR: World-class thief Max Verstappen asks Interpol Detective Charles Leclerc out on a date (to put on the world's most complicated heist ever conceived) but things never go as planned.

Rating: Mature

<3

To Your Heart’s Content a Mafia AU by @cornerofacry | 119.4 k

Summary:

Max pinched the bridge of his nose as he went into the car. Before his chauffeur could close the door, however, Daniel leant in, having rushed from the bar’s entrance."I forgot to tell you…" the Australian begun, his face serious and grave.Max gritted his teeth, silently nodding for the man to continue. He couldn’t stand much more. He wanted to scream at the entire world. To run home and hide and force some sense down his own throat.To put himself back together."I left a- a gift at your house. For your birthday… I planned it long ago, before-""Alright," Max cut him, short and harsh. OR: Charles, a high end prostitute, finds himself in the arms of a man who really, really, cares for him, despite the gun on his nightstand.

Rating: Explicit

<3

Favorite lestappen authors 💕

NovaCloud, Richardmarie75, WanderingBlindly, xxcelientje, amarynas, charlescoded, LestappenForever, linearity

Note to the authors: If your fic is on here and you would like me to take it down I will. Feel free to just dm me about it or drop and ask 😌

And anon I hope you find something you like on this list!

#anon ask #lestappen fic rec #charles leclerc #max verstappen #lestappen #f1

[selarina]

Behind Closed Masks

→ Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader

Summary: Amidst a looming threat to Yuuji’s life, you're all holed up at Shoko's house for safety. It's the practical choice for him, to be surrounded by Jujutsu Society's strongest. Alternatives are in the works, but for now, as you’re all holed up in Shoko's place, events begin to unfurl with Gojo Satoru in the centre of it all.

Content Warnings: friends with benefits, fluff, angst, unrequited feelings, canon divergence because getou is here and mentally well, mention of smoking, mention of violence, mention of harassment, exhibitionism-ish, oral sex (f!receiving) MINORS DNI

Word Count: 3.8k words

Author's Note: Ngl I kinda hate this but enjoy :) Might be kinda ooc

Read on AO3

Satoru Gojo, the receiver of one too many love letters, the rejector of one too many confessions was obviously coined to be every girl’s boy, and inadvertently, as the lady's man.

But truth be laid bare, Satoru never truly had the time, not for women or men. He only truly had time for his intimate circle of friends who luckily had managed to penetrate through all of the layers of façade.

But it's off season, he’s on a low stakes mission and there’s not many curses to kill and he's bored. He’s been bored for a while now and since Yujji had been buzzing at his ear like a mosquito, he decides that maybe he should undertake the mantle he had been anointed with for years.

So, he downloads tinder, albeit his reluctance. Because surely, there were more dignified avenues into hookup culture? But who was he to argue with Suguru, a man who actually lives up to the reputation expectation — hailed as everyone's resident fuckboy.

It's not surprising by any means at all, but there's swell of pride that blooms in him with each illuminating "It's a Match!" notification on his screen. He's not expecting to do much from here, at least — not today. He only downloaded this app to appease Yujji after all.

However, at your entrance into the living room, with your barrage of bags upon bags, he finds himself hastily pocketing his phone — a bit too swiftly than he should have. 

He notices Suguru's discerning eyes staring at him, at his move, but Satoru, ever the consummate performer, simply offers him a genial smile and redirects his gaze back at you — this very angry version of you. 

You're staring at the lot of them — dead in their faces, almost like you're planning to squint your way through to a create a hole in their faces.

"What's with the frown? It doesn't suit you, pretty." He rose from his seat, a beat behind the swift advances of Suguru and Yujji, both of whom had promptly positioned themselves at your side. 

Yuuji relieved you of your bags as he took half the weight off, while Suguru merely extended his help in the form of a box of raspberry juice.

"What's with the frown?!" Yuuji asks.

You stop, taking a long sip of the juice, before you start talking again, "I told you guys to come with me. You didn't want to. The least you could do was pick me up when you agreed to. But no! I was out there, in the middle of no where, trying to get a fucking Uber. And then the Uber driver started hitting on me. And he was so creepy about it too. This is why I hate ubering by the w—"

"Is he still outside?" Satoru's voice cuts through, abruptly altering into a tone of sobriety.

"I don't know. But I want to punch something, maybe we should practice today, Suguru."

You looked up to see him, wanting to see if he agreed with you. But Suguru had disappeared. You turned around, searching the room with your eyes, but there was no sign of him. He wasn't there anymore. The room remained still with only four of you giving it company.

Then, a distant sound, the rumble of an argument spewing its way from outside, reached your ears inside the living room. The four of you are quick to move, swivelling your way through to the point of discord. 

Yet, upon arrival, you only catch the diminishing silhouette of the Uber vehicle taking its departure from Shoko's compound. And then, your eyes catch Suguru, arms akimbo, as he looked down at the concrete, uttering an expletive.

"Aww, now I feel better already," you quipped, making your way to hug an annoyed-looking Suguru.

He melted, as one naturally does at the touch of another. Albeit, it may be through reluctance, but his hands don't show it as they come up to gently pull you closer into his chest. He knows you need this more than he does. 

"Sorry for not picking you up," he murmurs.

Drawing back slightly, you said, "Well, you going up to fight him makes up for it, I guess."

"Wow," Shoko interjected with an incredulous laugh. "You want us to resort to violence?" 

"Well, obviously not. But you would if I asked you, right?" you contended with a smile, fixing your gaze on Suguru.

"Absolutely not," Shoko voice comes out swift and emphatic, a declaration that's seconded by Suguru's shrug of indifference.

Satoru, however, interposed with a grin, speaks up, "I would fight anyone for you." 

You look at him, your eyes assessing him from hair to shoes. "Really?" you said, your tone clearly coloured by amusement.

At that, Satoru's eyes squint in annoyance, "I would, and in case you've forgotten, I am the strongest one here?"

"I mean, sure when we were teenagers. That's different, you're kinda wimpy looking now."

You don't actually believe that, you'd be a fool to believe that. Truth be told, he's likely the first person you would instinctively turn towards if you found yourself in any trouble. You're just teasing because you find his attempts at acting annoyed and angry all too endearing, and it's nice — the way he's fighting to fight for you.

Satoru feigns a dramatic sigh, hand pressed against his heart. "Wow," he remarks. "Here I was, prepared to face dragons in your honour, and all I get is this indignation."

"Alright, both of you drama queens can continue you the play for us," Shoko's hands come up to push the two of you inside the house. "As we make dinner," she continues. "I'm fucking starving."

—

Dinner unfolded in its familiar routine. Suguru's standing behind the counter, his hands moving with a practiced grace as his swished through the vegetables. You make your way from sitting on one counter to the other, munching on cut vegetables and cheese alike. 

Satoru flitted between scenes, briefly checking on the TV and Yuuji in the living room and then joining you and Suguru in the kitchen. Shoko, on the other hand, was for a smoke as she often is — you wonder if that's just her way of taking the time she needs away from the group. 

And as the night deepens, you all sit down to eat together beneath the glow of Shoko's yellow lights — you savour each bit as you try to extend the night, not wanting it to end yet. But eventually, the plates were clear, and all of you share the task of washing and cleaning up into the night.

When it came time to rest, sleeping arrangements fell into its usual place. Satoru found his place on the couch, while Suguru occupied the other one. Yuuji chose the floor, favouring it over the couch or the bed. And Shoko's retired to the comforts of her own familiar bed. She deserved as much for tolerating the lot of you, she said.

You, on the other hand, spoiled as you often are, you sleep in the guest room, all alone. 

But on a night like this you know you're not going to be alone, not when all the warning signs were laid out — the incessant touches on your waist as he moved, the soft smile, the stares — it was all a bit too apparent than usual. 

So, when you hear the door creak open gently you're not surprised, and when Satoru patters in with softly laid footsteps you're not surprised. "Hey," his voice whispered its way to you.

In response to his whispered greeting, you softly murmur, "Hey."

Satoru settled onto the bed beside you, making himself comfortable as he placed his phone on the table beside the bed. 

A knowing smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you reach out to him, draping your arms gently around his neck. With a deliberate and unhurried motion, you shift your position, sitting up and moving to straddle him, your legs finding their place on either side of his hips.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his thumb coming up to graze the edge of your lip. His tone was neutral, but his eyes they peer into your eyes, so intently, it almost makes you feel bare. 

Your fingers play at the short hair that remains at the nape of his neck, a feather-light touch eliciting a faint shiver from him, but he maintains his gaze at you.

"I'm okay?" you respond, a hint of confusion in your voice.

"The Uber guy—"

Recognition dawns upon you, and you chuckle softly "Ah, that. Yeah," you pause, considering your response after. "That's normal. I mean, it's not but yeah, I'm okay don't worry. Used to this really."

His gaze softens, "I can find him right now, teach him a lesson if you want," his thumb continuing its absentminded caress along your lip.

You give him a small, appreciative smile, your fingers continuing their gentle dance on his nape. "No need for all that, stupid," you reply, "It's really fine. I didn't think twice about it." You let out a chuckle. "Well, maybe twice but not more than that."

"How long are you staying for?" Satoru's question shifts the mood.

"I'm leaving in two weeks, around the same time as now," you finally share. 

His gaze flickers, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "You?" you inquire, but you don't truly want to know, you'd rather you just all stay here for a month, or two.

He hesitates for a moment, his fingers tracing patterns on your waist. "Not sure yet," he admits. "Could be around a month. Haven't finalised the details."

"That's good to hear," you murmur softly. "I mean, you've been up to a lot lately. Must be nice to be back home."

"Yeah, I miss food," he frowns.

A few beats pass, as you sit there in silence.

"Wish you could stay longer," he says, his voice coming out a bit too vulnerable than you're usually used to because it's jarring, it's starting to sound like a confession you know you'll never get. 

"Yeah?" you ask, swallowing. "Why?"

He stares and you stare back, there's a moment, for a silly little moment during the fragile second suspended between you two, you think he's going to say something real. But then, with a shift, his hands reposition their grip around your legs that are wrapped around his hips, and he pulls, guiding you to fall back onto the softness of your pillow.

Your heart pounds, the abrupt change of position leaving you two separated before on top of you, as he moves his face to your neck.

"To do this,” he speaks, and his words are ticklish against the side of your neck. His knee quickly moves to lodge itself between your legs, hovering but not fully pushing. 

"Satoru—"

He continues to map his way down to your neck as his hand slid along your thigh. Your legs come to wrap around his waist, as it usually does and his hips pressing firmly into yours to pin you into the bed.

Your fingers come up to his hair, tugging on his roots as he continued his ministrations around around your neck, as he continued leaving a hickey. “Aw! I’ve missed you too—” Your breathy confession ends up in a gasp, as he bites particularly too hard.

"Sorry," he says but he doesn't really look sorry.

You know he's not sorry because he moves almost immediately to yank his shirt from over his head. 

"Maybe we shouldn't," you voice as he lays his palms on your knees, smirking in satisfaction at the way you were already spreading your legs for him to settle in between, even as your words professed otherwise.

"Why not?" He asks, as he bends down to tug on your shorts as you help me by shimming your way out.

"Well, Yuuji and Suguru are literally a door away and well, we're at Iwa's place—"

Pushing the hem of your t-shirt up to your stomach, he brought his head between your legs. “Is it because you like him, you—“

“What?” He pauses, and you couldn’t help but sound a little annoyed, because this is odd. In all your times together, he never brought this up. In all your many years of friendship, he never brought this up. "What?" your tone softening as you repeat.

A palpable beat of silence lingers between you two.

Satoru lets out a sigh, the tension in his voice giving way to weariness. "I don't know, I was just wondering."

"About what, exactly?" you inquire.

"I don't know," he responds, a touch of frustration tinging his tone. "Do you like him? Suguru?"

"Like Suguru...?" you spoke, baffled. "Of course, I don't. You'd be the first to know if I did."

"Why's that?" His question hangs in the air.

A soft, incredulous chuckle escapes your lips. "Well, you're kind of my best friend, aren't you?"

He doesn't speak up, merely nodding before you push his head down between you thighs. He complies, his mouth moving to suck bruises on the inner part of your thigh as he hooks his fingers around the side of your underwear.

He pushes your underwear down your legs and you help him by kicking it off. His hands then movie to push down your thighs to the bed, leaving you bare in a way that leaves you abashed. 

He runs his tongue across his lower lip, Satoru didn’t start slow and he was nowhere near as gentle as he usually is, but you figure the aspect of your friends right outside your door might have spurred him on to go quicker. 

He didn't leave a little kiss as he usually did, nor were there any tentative licks, he just straight up latched his mouth against your cunt, spreading your legs apart until you were as exposed as you could be so his tongue could reach deep inside you.

“Fuck—” Your hand immediately went back to his head, curling your fingers around his soft locks. You aren't sure if you were pushing him closer, or pushing him away.

You moaned softly, still concious of your precarious state in a friend's house as a guest. You bucked against him as his tongue flicked over you. 

“Oh, God—” His slick muscle pressed flat against your folds, drawing designs across your sensitive skin. He went up and down, up and down, again and again, and again — he only momentarily stopped to pay attention to your clit, sucking until your thighs began to slowly tremble. 

“Satoru, Satoru, fuck wait—” Your breathing hitches.

Satoru had always been good with his hands but that was nothing compared to what his mouth and tongue could do. He was so good at this that you could barely form any other reactions and you were getting progressively scared as you started to get louder and less in control of yourself.

His gaze, hooded and fixed on your face, holds a glimmer of need as he spoke, "What's wrong?"

"They'll hear us," you murmur softly, a hint of caution in your voice.

"It's fine," he responded, with a smile, as he dove back in.

"What— No, it's not okay," you protested.

But he didn't relent, he continued on and on and on until your legs began to tremble. He savoured your taste and you felt the vibration of his muffled voice reverberates directly against your skin. “You’re gonna come for me, baby?"

And at the sound of that, you do. 

"Fuck— You're so annoying sometimes," you exclaim, sitting up from where you had been lounging against your pillow, your breath slightly uneven.

Seated now, you deliver a playful slap to his shoulder. "Ow— Is that any way to treat the man who just gave you an orgasm?" he quipped as he rubbed his shoulders to soothe your assault.

Your initial impulse is to give him a mock scowl, maybe even playfully shove him down to show him what you would do to a man who just made you come. But then, his phone buzzes.

Your eyes instinctively dart to the side, and just as swiftly, Satoru moves to turn off the glowing screen. However, his speed isn't enough to prevent you from catching a glimpse of the display, not enough to discern the specifics, but enough to stir, well... something.

"You're on Tinder?" The question slips from your lips before you can catch it.

"Uh—" Satoru's expression shifts, a mix of embarrassment and guilt colouring his features. "Yeah, Yuuji kinda forced me to do it."

"Forced you into it?" Your curiosity deepens, your voice coming out incredulous.

"Yeah," he says, plainly.

"How does someone force you into downloading and signing up for a whole app?"

He wants to explain, but really he's not sure what he can or should say, so he merely asks what lingers in his mind. "What's the big deal?"

"Nothing," you concede. It's true, it's nothing. Plus, you've been part of the club after all. You know how this goes.

You repeat the mantra in your mind—it's all just nothing. Meaningless and not real. But despite your efforts to convince yourself, a twinge of unease stirs within you. Sensing the potential weight of those unspoken thoughts, you quickly shift your focus, grabbing your underwear as a way to distract yourself from the festering emotions that boil right below the surface.

"What? Wow — No head?" he muses.

"I'm just too tired today," you reply, the weariness in your voice matching the fatigue that weighs you down - as though your words have spoken your exhaustion into fruition.

As the night stretches on, you lie in the dimness of the guest room, ensnared in a ceaseless loop of replaying the day's events. It's as though you're stuck with a malfunctioning record that refuses to stop. So, you shift and you shift in your bed, and you're suddenly overcome by an uncomfortable heat.

Truth be told, your heart ached not just from the events of this day, but from years and years of unspoken words.

Your closeness to Satoru, a social man who's cautious about who he allows into his life, can be traced back to a confession you made. 

Dumb and in love, back when you were 17, you mustered the courage to reveal your feelings for him. Naturally, he turned you down. You were expecting it, of course and were hoping that wish away the feeling you had for him. There's a strange solace in embracing the stages of heartbreak - your friends telling you stories about how a "Fuck him, I'm sad" phase quickly turns into a "Fuck him, I'm hot" phase.

But alas, fate had other plans. A friendship sprouted instead.

You presented yourself as having moved beyond your emotions, and at times, it felt real. But then he would do small and ostensibly insignificant acts, as one does for a friend – brushing a speck of grass from your hair, surprising you with your favourite beverage, reminding you to carry an umbrella – and they just made fall deeper into the well.

That wretched well.

After a while, of jostling in bed, you couldn't stand the heat and the suffocating weight of all these thoughts. Quietly, you slipped out of the bed, carefully making your way out of the room. The living room was dimly lit, but you could still see where Satoru lay sprawled awkwardly, half on the couch, half on the floor. While Yujji and Suguru slumbered soundly, the former clutching a throw pillow.

The soft glow of a lamp casting your shadow across the room as you opened the balcony door and settled onto the swing outside.

A floorboard's creak drew your attention, your gaze turning to the living room. And that's when saw Shoko standing there, her figure outlined by the soft light. He seemed surprised to find you awake, her expression a mix of concern and contemplation.

"Couldn't sleep either?" she asked, as she made her way next to you, shutting the balcony door. Her voice carrying a hint of weariness. Perhaps, he was asleep.

You shook your head, not trusting your voice to respond. There was a heaviness in your chest that you couldn't put into words.

She settled beside you in silence, letting moments pass before he spoke. A sigh escaped her, "I'm sorry for not picking you up earlier. It might not seem like a big deal, but I should have showed."

You looked at her, her profile illuminated by the soft light from the moon. "It's really not a big deal." Your hand found its way to her arm, a gesture of reassurance.

You think about how kind Shoko really is as a person. It's not often you find someone like her. I mean, sure Satoru is nice to you but he can often be petty, arrogant and hurtful, even if he may not want to be these things, Shoko, on the other hand, was deliberate with her words, at least around you. It makes you feel loved in a way you have always needed.

Your mind drifted to a specific memory – the last prom. You were clad in a soft shade of purple, and you felt hopeful. Despite going with Shoko, the presence of Satoru, now a friend, lent a certain optimism. Yet, she had snapped at you, in hushed tone though as she did not want his date hearing him, she wanted you to give him and his date space. 

It wasn't his fault really, you were lingering in their space after all but you made your way through, seeming as normal as you could, taking some punch in a cup, finding your seat almost working in auto-pilot mode, and after awhile you felt her come sit beside you. Shoko. 

She sat beside you in silence for a bit and then she spoke, standing up and offering her hand up for you to take. 

"May I have this dance?" she asked.

"I'm tired, Shoko," you responded, dejectedly.

"Come on," she implored, meeting your eyes. "Let me have the honor of sharing your very last prom dance."

With a sigh, you accepted her hand, rising from your seat. Turning away from the amorous couple, you focused on Shoko as she led you into a waltz. 

In that moment, you thought you couldn't have asked for a better date.

Soon, you noticed Shoko gradually dozing off beside you. It didn't take long, and with a gentle nudge, you roused her from her slumber.

"You should get some rest," you suggested, your voice a soothing caress.

"Alright," she agreed, a plain weariness in her tone. Rising, she paused before leaving. You think maybe today's the day she would finally ask you about it.

"You know," she began. "You can always talk to me, right?"

A nod was your response. 

She leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead. With that, she turned and made her way to her room.

A sense of lightness enveloped you, the fatigue gradually returning to your bones. Retracing your steps to the guest room, you knew sleep would find you.

#wrote this a while ago #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen hurt/comfort #jujutsu kaisen x fem reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader angst #gojo satoru x reader fluff

[atlasofthestaars]

[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .011

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NOTE: HERE WE ARE Y’ALL!! THE START OF THE OUTWORLD TOURNAMENT ARC!

Some context: For the sake of having more interactions and letting me write more I’m extending the tournament to have a fight per day + a bit more at the end. So basically the outworld tourney will be 7 days for each fight + a day or two more <3 

Havik made it in as a love interest! His poll was so chaotic, which I guess makes sense? Haha, Ashrah made it in too, and she was by far the closest we’ve had to the 50/50! Now that Ashrah’s chapter is done, it means that’s our completed love interest roster! I have updated all the tags/the intro to fit this!

Even though the poll for chapter 10 is done on Tumblr, I do need to still calculate the votes from AO3 too, so that means it’s mainly between Johnny vs Bi Han, so I’ll announce the winner of that next chapter.

Here’s a genuine thank you all for reading this <3 I am overwhelmed by all the love and support you guys give, you’re all so amazing! Also haha sorry how long this took to finally get out.

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO EXPERIENCES OUTWORLD FOR THE FIRST TIME

You barely had time to decipher the memories you had unlocked.

You, after all, had other duties to attend to. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself. The tournament was a week away after all, so you had a lot of last minute duties you wanted to wrap up before going away for a little over a week. Or at least, that long assuming Raiden would win his challenges. You were thankful for the last minute tasks you had found to busy yourself with. You weren’t quite sure if you really wanted to dwell on what you had seen.

It, in all honesty, scared you. 

How else were you supposed to respond to suddenly seeing a bunch of gore and having a major part of your backstory unlocked? You were handed the burden of learning that you went through, and yet it only added more questions. Throughout the week you considered confiding in Liu Kang about it all: telling him how you’re terrified of what you saw, and how you’re sorry you lied.

But you just couldn’t.

Fear grasped at you, sewing your mouth shut. It wasn’t as if you were afraid of Liu Kang hating you at first. You’re certain Liu Kang would allow you to tell him your tale with no judgement. You’d even bet on your own life that he would even comfort you for what you saw. He was far too kind to you. But then your mind kept on spiraling over the idea of what happens after.

He’d ask why you lied. Then he’d find out you’ve always lied about your memories, or at least not told him about them. It was a slippery slope. And there was just a lot of things to unpack there that would surely fracture the relationship between you and the god. And, while you weren’t taking advantage of him, the selfish voice in your head whispered how you couldn’t ruin the only chance at Outworld and finally find out more.

You came up with a solution to calm your nerves, even just a bit, that maybe you should finally tell him after the trip…assuming you got the courage to.

You weren’t sure if you trusted yourself on your little solution though, after all your mind poisoned your thoughts, still telling you that it was better you lied to him and to continue to lie to him. It had worked out so far, why change things? After all, you had a gut feeling that Liu Kang was keeping back secrets from you too. It was just a gut feeling, but you trusted your gut. But you also trusted Liu Kang. It was a debate you kept on going back and forth on, and could never figure out a conclusion to. 

You felt like you had a right to keep these things secret. He wasn’t obligated to know every single thing about you. The god probably had a reason to keep things from you as well, just like you did. You weren’t obligated to know everything either, even if you so desperately wanted to. Still, you selfishly decided for now it was fair to keep your own secrets. It was to protect yourself.

You were definitely visiting Madam Bo after this trip, maybe you needed some good advice on this one.

“Are you overworking yourself?” Liu Kang inquired as you passed by one afternoon. You had been going to and fro, trying to distract yourself. You stopped, the authority in his voice making you pause. You shifted in place, avoiding looking at him as you cast your gaze to the side. 

“No, I haven’t.” You had told him, which had been partially true. While you had been running around like a chicken whose head had been cut off, you hadn’t been over doing it. At least, by your standards. You took in a deep breath as you felt Liu Kang grab one of your hands. You looked up in surprise as his hand squeezed yours gently.

“Good.” He said, his voice full of warmth. Your stomach squirmed as you were filled with guilt at the look he gave you. A smile was on his lips. His thumb gently rubbed a few circles on the back of your hand, as if he were casting a protective spell on you. “I’m proud of how well you trained Raiden and the others. I am certain Raiden will do great at the tournament.”

You were at a loss of words, feeling your chest tighten. You nodded instead, and Liu Kang dropped your hand. He gave you a pat on the back as he passed you, walking off to what you assumed was the Wu Shi to help Raiden. You felt…colder. You supposed it was simply a side effect of Liu Kang being a fire god and him no longer being by your side.

Liu Kang made keeping secrets difficult.

Still, despite your worries, the week breezed by fast. And now you found yourself standing in front of the Fire Temple, waiting for your students and the monks to arrive. You swallowed your nerves, trying to force yourself to feel more relaxed. This was supposed to be exciting after all.

To your delight, you weren’t waiting long. The monks first arrived, and you directed them happily to the waiting area for whenever Liu Kang was ready. Many of them had regarded you warmly. Then, you smiled as you saw your four students come and arrive. 

“Excited?” You inquired as they drew closer. You scanned them, noting their choice of outfits. It had been a while since you’ve seen them wear anything other than their most casual clothes or their Shaolin uniforms. It was a bit odd, but it was a breath of fresh air. The outfits suited them well.

“I’m excited, albeit a bit overwhelmed and nervous.” Raiden admitted a mixture of nervousness and a genuine smile on his face. He tipped his head forward, his straw hat obscuring the look on his face. Despite that, you forced your gaze on his head, trying to avoid the amulet that sent fear down your spine. You wanted to look at anything but that right now

“Psh, you’ll be fine.” Kung Lao scoffed, placing a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. He shot you a look of disbelief as he gestured to the new champion. “He’s been in his head about this whole thing, can you believe it?” He looked back over to his friend, shaking him slightly with the hand on his shoulder. “You have to be more confident. If you can beat me you can handle them all.” You smiled at his encouragement nodding. 

“Kung Lao’s right, Raiden.” You told him, crossing your arms. “There’s a reason why you’re our champion.” You watched as Raiden’s head lifted up, a more confident expression on his face, though it was still tinged with a bit of nervousness. “Be confident in your abilities, otherwise I will start to think I’m a bad teacher.” You jested, adding on a small chuckle.

“You are anything but that.” Raiden commented, making your smile grow just a bit wider. The others nodding as well warmed your heart. You shooed them off after that short moment, yet one of them hung back to linger. While the Fengjian farmers were too caught up talking to each other to notice, you noted the side eye Kenshi shot Johnny as he hung back. Odd.

“You aren’t exempt from waiting with the others, you know.” You said, raising an eyebrow as you eyed Johnny. The actor shot you his signature grin, which you both knew didn’t work on you. With a confident stride, Johnny slung an arm over your shoulder and pulled out his phone. You raised an eyebrow at the casual contact, but didn’t shrug him off. Over the last few months, ever since the late night discussion, you’ve grown used to the causal contact.

You just assumed Johnny was getting more friendly with you.

“I know, teach.” Johnny said, causally scrolling through his phone. You tried to keep your gaze away from it out of respect, but the temptation was strong. “But I think I have something that might interest you.” He said, sending you a sly look. You simply looked at him with an unimpressed look, and he took it as his cue to continue on. “I hear you and hat boy had a bet?” He inquired, still showing off his pearly whites to you.

“And what of it?” You asked, placing a hand on your hip as you sent him a skeptical look. Your head tilted as you thought of why he would bring it up. You figured it wasn’t the oddest thing he knew about it, Kung Lao had probably bragged about his victory to the group. You had settled that you would make him his feast after the trip.

“Well, what if I told you I might have some video evidence that might please you?” He said, his voice dripping with confidence. Your eyebrows raised again, and you pursed your lips, not knowing what to make of his offer. “Listen, it’s all legit. I recorded the hat kid and thunder lad discussing something and you might be interested in seeing it.” He egged you on.

“And why are you telling me this?” You inquired, looking at Johnny with the same skeptical look, not quite yet taking the bait.

“Look, I like you teach, so I wanna cut you a sweet deal.” The actor said, and you knew he was trying to work up his charisma. “You get the ultimate evidence towards Kung Lao so you rectify your little bet and I get a little reward too.” Johnny offered, waving his phone with a paused video on the screen. Now he was deliberately showing you the screen.

You squinted at the phone. You could see the back of Kung Lao, he seemed to be talking to Raiden who seemed to have a somewhat disapproving look on his face. You looked more carefully. It seemed to be the same day of the exam, so it would fall under the betting time. 

“Alright, I’ll bite. What do you want?” You asked, a small sigh leaving your lips as you finally relented. You saw Johnny’s grin grow wider as he raised his eyebrows in a cocky manner. His smile turned into a self assured smirk, thinking he had you in his trap.

“I saw from tattoo that you started hooking him up with some sweet meals.” He started, and you blinked in surprise at the topic of conversation. You nodded, then let him speak more. “I think that little feast you were planning to make that hat boy, you give to me…and Madam Bo’s special tea.”

“I’ll give you Madam Bo’s special tea and just one meal.” You counter offered quickly, crossing your arms. You watched as Johnny Cage sent you an offended look. You held back a chuckle of amusement at the expression. 

“After my generous deal?” The American asked, his face scrunching up. “No way, wildstyle!” He scoffed, a small pout on his lips. You shook your head in amusement as you sent him a look.

“You may think you have the high ground here with your little offer, but you gave me more information than you thought you did.” You said, pointing at his phone screen. His eyes glanced over to the paused screen. “I can just ask Raiden if Kung Lao cut his finger.” You pointed out. “I think he’d be more likely to tell me if I just asked.”

“Hm…” Johnny stared at you for a good long moment. You could see the gears turning in his head at your point. You assumed he had plenty of experience in this sort of thing.  “You think that golden boy would betray his best buddy like that?” 

“Maybe, maybe not, but I can always offer him what I offered youI’m certain he’d take the deal and you’d be left with nothing.” You point out with a shrug, trying to hold out a little on your bluff. You weren’t entirely sure if Raiden would take your offer, but it was worth a bluff. 

“Fine.” Johnny groaned with a pout, his head dropping. His head brushed your shoulder, and you rolled your eyes in a playful way. “You drive a hard bargain. You ever consider becoming an agent for Hollywood?” He inquired, tilting his head to look at you, his cheek still resting on your shoulder. “I could use someone like you.”

“Hah, funny offer.” You laughed, and Johnny’s smile returned in a more sincere way. “I think I’d rather act in one of your movies than become whatever your agent is.” You remarked, which grew Johnny’s smile even more. You used your hand to move his head off your shoulder. “Chin up, Johnny.”

“Really now?” He said, a hint of amusement and hope in his voice. “I’ll be holding you up to that statement, you know.” Johnny said, nudging you a bit with his shoulder.

“I didn’t commit to anything, Cage.” You pointed out with a small shake of your head. “Now show me the video you were bragging so much about.” You commanded, looking from the actor to the paused video he had been waving in front of your face. With a small smile, he tapped the screen, unpausing the video.

You watched as Kung Lao approached Raiden, talking to him about something. His back was to the camera, so it was a bit hard to see what he was exactly doing, but you can glean enough from what he was saying. You could see him, or at least you assumed, trace the brim of the hat. Then you heard an “ow” and the man winced.

You watched with a slow smirk spreading across your lips as he froze, before quickly telling Raiden that he “didn’t see anything”. Raiden looked very confused at the sudden command, which prompted Kung Lao to tell him that he would just “tell him later”. All he had to do was just not tell you about it.

“There, as promised.” Johnny told you, a cheeky grin sent your way. You returned the look before peering back down at the video, which continued to play, showing Kung Lao now showing off his hat. “Aren’t you glad I’m looking out for you, wildstyle?”

“I’m honored.” You replied sarcastically, playfully rolling your eyes. “A person who was actually looking out for me would tell me without wanting something in return, you know.” You pointed out. “Still grateful though. I have to ask, why were you interested in my cooking all of a sudden?”

“Hey, nothing comes for free.” Johnny said, shrugging his shoulders causally. “You’re welcome, by the way.” The American paused, humming as he pursed his lips. “Well, it started when I caught tattoo holding one of your meals. It looked delicious, he didn’t let me try though.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “And then Kung Lao began bragging that he’d get a full feast from you and well…” He shook his phone, and you connected the dots.

“I get it.” You said, nodding. You realized how long the two of you had been standing around for. You send him a small smirk and you let out a small laugh. “You could have just asked for food if you really wanted it, but I appreciate the help.” You admitted, before shrugging off his arm and walking ahead, gesturing for him to follow. “Now come on.”

“Wait, you would really?” Johnny called out after you, following you closely. He raised his eyebrows, scanning your face with a hint of suspicion. “Where’s the catch here?” He inquired, the suspicion leaking into his voice.

“You’ve known me long enough, Johnny.” You told him, looking over to him with an amused look. “There’s no catch. I don’t mind doing that kind of stuff for you guys.” You said, which was true. You wouldn’t mind doing anything for them as long as it made them happy. You always were too much of a people pleaser.

“Yeah, I should have known.” The actor said with a sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking over at you. “You’re way too generous, you know that?” He told you, which led to you letting out a small chuckle of surprise. “Here, use this to stick it to Kung Lao, just give it back before we head out.” You caught Johnny’s phone when he tossed it over to you, then he jogged ahead.

You smiled as you held the phone. While he wasn’t the most protective over it, you still felt a sense of trust put in you due to you holding the precious object. With a little more pep in your step as well as the determination of a person with a vengeance, you walked over to Kung Lao, tapping his shoulder. You hid the phone behind your back as the man turned around.

“Yes?” The former farmhand inquired, sending you a confident smile. You had a feeling he was still feeling a bit smug after “winning” the bet. You let a slow smirk spread across your lips, then your eyes fell to look at his shirt. Your brain paused as you took a moment to stare at the dragon design on the left side.

Was that the same design as the necklace you were wearing? You wondered over that fact for a moment as you realized, yes…yes it was. Your smirk turned into a smile for a moment as you realized this. It felt…nice to be matching with him.

“I heard from a little birdie that you lied.” You said, breaking your gaze away from his shirt. Your smile turned into a smirk again. You watched as Kung Lao looked at you with pure confusion. “I’m referring to the bet that we had between us.” You clarified. Then, you watched as he sent a look over to Raiden, who simply shrugged. 

“Me? Lie?” Kung Lao inquired, raising his eyebrows as he pretended to not know what you were talking about. He crossed his arms, his head tilting upwards. “Hah! I would never.” He said, his self confident front holding up. You would have believed it too, had you not witnessed the video that Johnny had given you.

“I wouldn’t lie Kung Lao, that’s not something neither I or the monks taught you.” You chided playfully. An offended look appeared on the man’s face, then it turned into surprise as you revealed the phone you had hidden behind your back. “Want to confess now? Or should I show the damning evidence I was so preciously given?”

“I…uh…” Kung Lao floundered, searching for an excuse to spin the tale in his favor. You assumed from the screen he already knew what the video was going to show. After a few moments, he sighed in resignation. “Okay. you got me.” He admitted, hanging his head. You nodded slowly, crossing your arms. “Sorry?” He said, giving a half apology with a small shrug with an apologetic smile. You let out a laugh. 

“Apology accepted, though I thought you’d have more honor in a bet since you do it so much.” You pointed out, which prompted a somewhat guilty look from the man. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you do anything bad.” You told him, the wicked smile spreading across your lips said otherwise. You watched as Kung Lao looked like he regretted his actions, though you did hear him mutter under his breath he would definitely be getting Johnny back for this betrayal.

“I see we have all gathered.” Liu Kang spoke up, walking up to the group that gathered. His gaze swept over the group that you had gathered, an approving look on his face. You noticed Kenshi and Johnny walked up beside you, and you handed over the phone back to the actor. “It is time.” He told you all, leading you all into a pavilion. 

Excitement filled you as Liu Kang began to summon the portal. From the corner of your eye, you watched as Johnny began to record the process. However, as the portal began to form, your excitement turned into a massive headache, and you let out a small hiss as you clutched your head. This was worse than any headache you’ve had recently.

“Are you okay?” Kenshi whispered, leaning towards you. He placed a hand on your shoulder. You looked over, trying to send him a convincing smile. He didn’t buy it, and a look of concern remained on his face as he looked at you.

“I’m fine.” You managed to say, your smile wavering as your head pounded with searing pain. “I just get massive migraines sometimes.” You lie, the same lie you’ve always used whenever someone that wasn’t Liu Kang caught you having these pains.

“I see.” Kenshi said, yet his hand remained on your shoulder as a source of comfort. He tried to send you a reassuring smile. It helped a bit, even if it didn’t alleviate the pain at all. His hand on your shoulder was doing more to help you. It felt like an anchor to the real world amidst all the pain. You leaned slightly towards the swordsman, allowing yourself to temporarily lean against him. He let you, his grip growing firmer.

The light of the portal flashed and pulsed, orange light shining on all of your faces. Had you not been in pain, you figured you would have appreciated how beautiful it was. But now, it just served to add to your nausea. You breathed in, trying to go through the pain. You could only hope it only got better.

“Outworld can be both alien and intoxicating to Earthrealmers.” Liu Kang spoke, and you forced yourself to focus on his voice to drown out the pain. “Do not become drawn in.” The fire god warned. You wondered briefly, if that extended to you. You nodded slowly, regretting it as it felt like you were beginning to sway. Kenshi righted you, using his hand to make sure you didn’t fall over. “You must focus on the task at hand.”

Soon enough, the portal was completed. With confident strides, Liu Kang entered the portal composed of pulsing and swirling orange energy. You followed in tow, Kenshi’s hand staying on your shoulder for only a few more moments to make sure you were alright before dropping. You bit the inside of your cheek and clenched your fists, trying to abate the pain.

You barely noticed Johnny pointing the camera your way. With a huff, Kenshi shoved the camera away, sending him a look. This made the actor send him a look of disbelief at the action. You managed to send the ex gang member a grateful look before you stepped to the otherside of the portal.

For a moment, you experienced nothingness. You couldn’t see, hear, feel, or sense anything in general. Then, there was a searing pain that engulfed your entire body. You tried to scream, but it was as if you lost your voice. It was as if your headache had spread across your form and had been multiplied by ten. Thankfully, it was only for a moment and then it disappeared.

It seemed the pain dissipating had taken the bulk of your headache, leaving you only with a dull discomfort. It was akin to a slight pressure in your head, nowhere near as bad. It was an annoyance, but it wasn’t unbearable anymore.

 After a moment, you found yourself emerging on the other side of the portal. Your eyes widened as you looked around, wondering if anyone else had gone through an excruciating experience like you. As you watched their reactions, you realized they must have not. The others were immersed in the beauty of the world, and you doubted they would look as relaxed as that if they had gone through the same thing. So, you forced yourself to focus on the area around you

Gone was the desolate and war torn Outworld that your brain knew. Instead, you were greeted with a world full of beauty and life. You felt torn. You were happy it looked to be thriving as much as Liu Kang had told you. And yet, at the same time, you wondered if this world was going to be able to offer you anything useful to your past with how…different it was.

Still, you found yourself in awe of the area. It looked like a garden was surrounding the portal, which seemed to be integrated beautifully into the architecture. Whites, purples, and greens were the main color scheme of the area, giving it a regal vibe.

“Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kanas anymore.” Johnny remarked as he filmed the area, and you recalled when Johnny had put on that movie during one of the movie nights. You felt a bit happy that you could actually recognize one of his movie references.

As your gaze wandered from the area itself to what was in front of you, your eyes finally settled on two figures dressed in pink and blue respectively. They stood amongst dozens of guards, all notably women. On the stairs, there was a beautifully woven purple carpet. It vaguely reminded you of the red carpet Johnny had bragged so much about. 

Your mind had a hazy realization that you recognized the two standing upon the steps. But through the dull pain, no memories popped up. You figured it was the result of too many memories trying to break free, much like when you had first trained the four champions.

“Oh my…are those?” Johnny Cage spoke, as the two figures approached, walking causally down the steps. He looked over to the group, assessing their reactions as he kept the camera facing forward. The others, predictably, did not share the actor’s sentiments.

“Empress Sindel’s daughters, yes.” Liu Kang replied, a hint of sterness in his voice. Taking that as your cue, you nudged Johnny, indicating to him to knock it off. Of course, the actor just sent you a pout. Liu Kang also looked back to send him a look.

“They do not disappoint.” Johnny continued to comment, earning another nudge from you. “Okay! Okay! I get it!” He hissed out. Your eyes landed on the guard closest to you. You and her made eye contact for a moment, which led to another feeling of familiarity hitting you. How many people would you meet that you knew previously?

“Please be respectful.” You told Johnny Cage, leaning towards him to whisper it in a discreet way. “We’re here as guests, and I’d rather not get on anyone’s bad side.” You said, giving him a pointed look. He sighed but nodded.

“Fine.” The actor agreed, holding back the childish urge to roll his eyes at your chiding. “Won’t stop me from at least admiring them, though.” Johnny relented, his gaze lingering on you for a few moments. He looked you up and down, much to your confusion before returning his gaze back to the Outworlders. 

As you all stopped in front of the blue and pink duo, Liu Kang bowed. Quickly, everyone followed suit, replicating the gesture.You focused your attention on the duo, trying to work out who they were. They definitely looked familiar…and they seemed near identical.

Ah. While your memories weren’t popping up, you made the connection. Liu Kang had pointed out these were the princesses. The pink one must be the older one, Mileena…which meant the blue one must be Kitana. As you recalled their names, your brain seemed to buzz, the dull pain strengthening temporarily in intensity. It was as if memories were fighting to rise to the surface. You definitely knew these two before.

“Lord Liu Kang, welcome.” Mileena spoke, nodding her head. A cordial smile was placed on her lips, and her eyes seemed to assess the group in front of her. Her sister also seemed to scan the crowd, though a polite smile did not reach her lips. Instead, an analytical look was on hers. You assumed she was already trying to find who it was that was to fight Outworld’s champions.

“Thank you, Princess Mileena.” Liu Kang said, a warm smile on his lips. You watched as the guard that had been by the side strode over to be closer to the princesses. You concentrated on the princesses’ faces, trying to see if trying to force any memories would help clear your head. It didn’t. If anything, it just increased the pressure of the pain, so you stopped trying to do it.

“You remember my sister?” Mileena inquired. She leaned back, looking over to Kitana who looked back at her in acknowledgement. 

“Of course.” Liu Kang replied. He then bowed once more. “Princess Kitana.” The other princess acknowledged his courtesy with a nod of her own. “May I introduce my companion,” The fire god spoke your name, and you bowed slightly, showing the same respect as Liu Kang did. “Johnny Cage, Kung Lao, Kenshi Takahashi, and Earthrealm’s champion, Raiden.”

“I hope you’re prepared, Raiden.” Kitana spoke this time. An air of confidence filled her voice as she scrutinized your student. “Our champions are determined to win.” She said, her gaze falling upon her sister. You knew very well that Mileena was supposed to be one of the champions, as told to you by Liu Kang. Liu Kang had put himself in charge of preparing the champion, since you’ve never seen the fighting prowess of the Outworlders yourself.

“None more so than me.” The older twin said, self assuredness in her tone. Her gaze was steady, almost as if trying to intimidate Raiden with it alone. “It’s been too long since we’ve known victory.” She reminded the group, and you could tell she was determined to be the one to reclaim it.

“Princess Mileena.” The guard you saw from earlier spoke up. There was a hint of urgency within her tone as she spoke. She had gone up the steps to get closer to the princess. “We should be on our way, Empress Sindel awaits.”

“Thank you, Tanya.” Mileena replied. The name Tanya struck a chord in you. That was definitely familiar as well. You couldn’t tell if it was a blessing or a curse that you would be in such close proximity with people you supposedly knew before. “Follow me, please.”

You all followed the trio of women, walking down a hall that was flanked by guards. Mileena was leading the group. At the end, a line of royal carriages awaited. You soon found yourselves been split up into small groups to ride the carriages. You were in the first group, along with Liu Kang, Raiden, and Mileena. The guard from earlier, Tanya, took the reins. 

As the others slipped in, you considered where to sit. It wasn’t until the princess graciously gestured to the spot next to her that you allowed yourself to sit next to her. You didn’t want to be rude and assume, but you were grateful she didn’t seem to mind. You sat across from Raiden, with Liu Kang diagonally from you. 

As soon as everyone boarded their carriages, the carriage line set off. It was preceded by a joyous Shokan who played the drums. It was quite nice to see a man so enthusiastic over his job. The other guards, the Umgadi you recalled, flanked the carriages as you set off. You watched with amazement as you passed through Sun Do. It was colorful and alive, and you awkwardly smiled and at the people who gazed at you from the streets. You weren’t used to being marveled like this.

The people on the streets were dressed up in bright garb, and vendors were going around trying to take advantage of the festivities and trying to sell more of their wares. You even spotted some Outworlders cheering as they toasted their mugs together.

“Those are Centaurians.” Raiden said, the wonder clear in his voice. Raiden also had excitement on his face, though you supposed it was due to the novelty of it all. He did not share the same feelings as you did at that moment. “And Shokan!”A wide grin spread across his face, and it was all too easy to match his. His energy was contagious. 

“The six armed being as Naknadans.” Mileena informed, looking over the crowd. You wondered for a moment if she was simply informing him, or if the man, in his enthusiasm, had mixed up the Outworld races.

“The monks described them. But seeing them in person…” Raiden said, returning his gaze to Mileena to acknowledge her words towards him. He was unable to keep his attention on her for long, as he returned his attention back to the crowd soon enough. 

“I see Her Majesty once again spares no expense on the festival.” Liu Kang remarks, having observed the colorful atmosphere in silence. You raised your eyebrows, now wondering how the city looked without all the festivities. Was it just as beautiful? Either way, it was certainly an upgrade from what you remembered previously.

“Should she not?” Mileena replied, and you looked over. She had an almost offended look on her face, which caught you off guard. “It commemorates my late father.” She said, and you took note of that. You remembered how Liu Kang had told you about the brief history of the royal family, including the unfortunate death of King Jerrod.

“I think it is a wonderful celebration in memory of him.” You spoke up, your gaze landing on the decorations that were among the people and buildings. You voice carried the admiration you held for the beauty of it all. “Her Majesty made the capital look so wonderful, it must be an excellent reflection of your father.” You felt the princess’ gaze land on you, and you turned to send her a friendly smile.

Whistles were blown, and you turned to look over your shoulder to gaze at whatever was causing it. You saw a woman standing in the street, in the way of the procession. It seemed she was leading other guards, who were notably dressed differently than the Umgadi. You watched as those people led off a few people who seemed to be handcuffed. Your eyebrows furrowed. Not at the sight, but at the slight haze you felt upon seeing her, too. 

You wondered if you were bound to recognize a person every few minutes in this place.

Mileena knocked on the carriage frame, which prompted Tanya to stop the animals from continuing on. The princess whispered a small “excuse me” as she walked past you and Raiden, and hopped off the carriage. She strode over to the woman with what you assumed was thinly veiled frustration. 

You couldn’t hear the conversation well, but you did overhear that she called the woman the first constable. You put two and two together that this must be the police force of Sun Do. She seemed to express anger towards the failed job of clearing the street. Then, the conversation was spoken in words too quiet for you to overhear. You turned back in your seat, to make it seem like you weren’t listening in on that conversation.

“Princess Mileena doesn’t seem to like her very much.” Raiden observed, his gaze on the two women. You nodded. Fromwhat Liu Kang had taught you, you already had put together why they had some sort of conflict, aside from the obvious hold up.

“Li Mei used to lead the Umgadi, the palace guard.” Liu Kang informed the champion, catching him up to speed. His glowing gaze drifted over to look at him. “It was on her watch that the Princesses’ father was murdered.” As the information settled in, the tension in the carriage rose. Soon enough, Mileena rejoined the group, though a bit more peeved.

Thankfully, the rest of the ride was peaceful and without any further hold ups. The tension dissipated as you watched the city fade away, and the palace came into view. The carriages stopped at the entrance, and you soon found yourselves being ushered away by the Umgadi into the palace. The princesses had disappeared in the midst, and you assumed they were simply getting ready for the upcoming event.

As you found yourself standing in the Great Hall of the palace, you stood next to Liu Kang, your students in front of you. Raiden was the one who was directly in front of Liu Kang, and you could tell his nerves were getting to him. His arms were crossed as his head tilted down, his hat concealing the stress that was obvious on his face.

“Worry expends energy for no reason, Raiden.” Liu Kang reminded him. 

“But the tournament.” Raiden pointed out. Worry creased his brow, and you could sympathize with the burden he must feel being the only representative for Earthrealm within this tournament. His arms uncrossed as he stepped closer, looking at the fire god. “If I lose…”

“Just remember your training, Raiden.” You cut in, recognizing the signs of a spiraling mind. You gave him a smile, and Liu Kang did as well. “I told you already, you have the ability to win this tournament.” You reminded him of your words earlier. “As long as you focus on yourself, you will do fine. Worrying over a future that hasn’t happened yet will do you no good.”

Raiden looked at you, trying to soak in your words. His furrowed brow relaxed, and he tried to reciprocate the smile. It was a weak and weary one, but it was better than nothing. He seemed to be more confident now because of your words, even if it was just by a little bit.

The sounds of armor and the crowd whispers caught your attention. You looked over to see a horned man enter the hall. Your eyes met, and your eyes widened. It felt like the world was slowing down to a halt. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest, so loud you could practically hear the blood rushing in your ears. 

Shao Khan.

Your body froze, and it was like the amulet all over again. The world around you swirled and faded, and you found yourself now atop a rooftop. The sky was hazy with a mixture of clouds and smog from the destruction of the world around you. Distantly, other buildings were set on fire. THo0se that weren’t seemed to be destroyed. 

This was the end of all things. 

You were on your knees, cradling yet another body in your hands. The smell of it all was terrible. The first thing you smelled was burnt flesh. It was sickening and made your stomach turn and twist. Then, you smelt ash from the fires all around you. You didn’t dare look down, your hands trembling as they felt burnt and scarred skin. That must be the main source of the burnt flesh smell. 

To your left, you recognized hazily, Johnny Cage. He looked different, but you could recognize him all the same. To your right, you saw a woman whose name you only vaguely recalled as Sonya Blade. She was an ally? Surely she must be. Ahead of you, you could see Raiden in his thunder god form standing before the man whose name rang in your head.

Shao Khan.

Your head was pounding. All you knew was the massive destruction around you was because of the man. How it came to be, you couldn’t recall. All you knew was that it was because of him. Hate filled you, and you grit your teeth. Grief for things you didn’t quite remember clawed at your heart. You almost clenched your hands into fists, but then you remembered the body in your lap. Instinctively, you looked down. You wished you hadn’t the moment you did.

Liu Kang?

A wave of nausea filled you as you recognized the scarred and burnt body of the man in your lap. Thin scars trailed upwards his body, accompanied with gruesome burnt scars. One eye had even turned white from his injuries. Your stomach turned as you looked into his one good eye, and you realized with horror that it was already glazed over.

Death had already claimed the man.

“No.” You said, your voice quivering as you stared down at the man. Tears began to blur your vision, and your heart raced. How could this happen? This had to be a dream, an illusion. Anything but real. In your shock, you tried to shake him, hoping somehow he would wake up. All you felt was his warmth quickly fading away from you.

The voice in your head screamed. You’ve lost too many! But who had you lost? Looking down at the deceased in your lap, you wondered how many you’ve had lay dying in your arms. Did it matter how many had died? 

You didn’t know. All you knew is that you were filled with a burning hatred for whoever did…this.

“You monster!” You cried out, standing up after you had carefully set down Liu Kang’s body onto the ground. You couldn’t recall who had done this, but you could only assume that Shao Khan had to be responsible.

Raiden turned back, shock on his face at your scream filled with pure vitriol. As you charged towards Shao Khan, hate fueling your body. you saw the thunder god trying to stop you. You ignored him. You would not let the thunder god prevent you from avenging those you have lost in this ceaseless war.

You leapt, claws outstretched as your teeth bared as a lion. Shao Khan merely chuckled at your attempt to lash out at him. You grunted as the man easily sent you flying back with his sorcery. As you fell, you transformed back into your human form. You tumbled onto the rooftop, hazily seeing Johnny and Sonya also being flung back as well. They landed near you.

You were powerless as you watched Raiden confront the tyrant. Was this the end?

“Red alert.” Johnny muttered behind you, snapping you out of your vision. You blinked, trying to ground yourself in the real world. You didn’t get a conclusion to the vision you saw, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to. What a horrible vision you had received. And yet, curiosity was clawing at you, what had happened?  “Incoming stock villain.” 

Was that the last thing you saw before you died and came into this life? Or was there more to the story?

“General Shao.” Liu Kang said, and you looked over at him. You felt a wave of relief as you looked at the fire god, knowing he was alive and not dead like you had seen. Still, the image was seared into your head. How cruel it was that the fire god had glowing white eyes, reminding you of the one white eye he had during his death. “Do not let him goad you.” Earthrealm’s protector advised Raiden, looking over to him. Then, he turned his eyes to look at you. His gaze turned perplexed as they did so.

You swallowed, quickly sending the fire god a smile. You must have left the look of worry lingering on your face far too long. That seemed to temporarily satisfy him as he turned his attention to General Shao, but the lingering stare he left on you left you knowing he would ask later.

With heavy footsteps, the man who your brain was screaming to maul approached. His eyes glanced over to you, an eyebrow raised before they stared back at Raiden. You were certain from that expression you were failing to hide the sudden hate you felt towards him. A mocking smile appeared on his face as he assessed the man. A condescending laugh left his lips.

“Hah, this is Earthrealm’s champion?” General Shao commented with a sneer. “I nearly thought it was that one.” He remarked, pointing a finger in your direction. You blinked in surprise at the comment. “That stare had resolve and determination to best me the moment I stepped in. Disappointingly, it appears you’re the champion.” His lip curled with delight. “So scrawny.”

“Would you care to test his strength!?” Kung Lao challenged Shao for his friend. He stepped forward with indignation. You leaned over with wide eyes and sent him a glare. You had to admit, you were holding yourself back from leaping at the general yourself, but for different reasons. This was neither of your guys’ battle to fight, though. “Raiden will-” Thankfully, Liu Kang stepped in to intervene.

“Will prove himself well enough.” Liu Kang spoke, finishing Kung Lao’s sentence for him. His hand hovered in front of Kung Lao’s chest to prevent him from stepping any closer. He stepped in between the champion and the general, acting like a barrier between the two realms. His gaze was unwavering in the face of the man. 

“Have you still not told most Earthrealmers that Outworld exists?” General Shao inquired, his voice deep and gravely. His face held a look of judgement as he regarded the god. He was already looking down at him physically, and from the tone of his voice, it was more than just that.

“It is safer that way, General.” Liu Kang responded simply, not giving into his attempts to frustrate him.

“I suppose so.” General Shao said. He then took a step closer, trying to intimate Liu Kang, He leaned down, a belittling tone in his voice. “Your people’s frail minds couldn’t handle the truth.” You realized suddenly, that your hands were balled into fists. Crescent moon marks would be left permanently on the inside of your palm at this rate. You forced your hands to relax, and folded them behind your back. You held back a scoff at this poor attempt of intimidation.

“You presume them frail, General?” Liu Kang challenged. He raised his eyebrows at the Outworlder’s cocky attitude. “Should you…given how frequently they win this tournament?” The fire god pointed out, and you could tell he hit a nerve. The tension grew thicker, and it was as if you could cut it with a knife. 

“We will destroy your champion, Liu Kang.” General Shao promised, his resolve showing through his voice. You could sense the hatred he felt for the god, not even bothering to use the honorific for him. He shook his head, his orange eyes boring into the demigod. “He shall taste no victory.”

Then he stormed off.

Minutes passed by, and more people filled the room. It was crowded. You offered light conversation to a random Edenian woman to be polite as you waited. You learned how excited she was to finally be able to watch the tournament in person, a sentiment you both shared. She was new to serving the throne, so this would be her first time. Although cautious, she even asked about Earthrealm, something you were glad to tell about.

Soon enough, you heard footsteps walking down from the hall, and the conversations began to cease. You sent an apologetic smile to your conversation partner that your conversation was cut short. You turned your attention to the trio of women who now entered the room.

Leading them was the woman who you presumed was Empress Sindel, the princesses following close behind. Your mind buzzed at the sight of her, and you began to wonder once more how many important people you once knew in your past life. Surely, it was not a coincidence you recognized many who seemed to be important in this life. 

Who…were you? 

The trio took confident strides, holding an air of regalness around them. You stood next to Raiden and Johnny, watching them walk through the hall towards their thrones. They walked up to their thrones before seating themselves comfortably, almost seeming to bask in the high regard that everyone held them in.

“Welcome, members of the royal house.” Sindel began to address the crowd, her gaze sweeping across the room. Her voice held authority, yet it also had a sense of warmth within it. “Welcome, our esteemed Earthrealm guests.” She said, nodding her head in the direction of your group. “We gather once again to honor my late husband’s legacy. To continue the tournament that he founded with Lord Liu Kang in hopes it would foster peace among the realms.”

A pained and sorrowful expression appeared on Sindel’s face, and you had sympathy for her. Losing someone close to you…while you did not experience it in this life, the memories that began to terrorize you reminded you of how heavy that loss can feel. You couldn’t imagine how much worse it must feel since the one she lost was her husband.

“May Jerrod’s soul watch over us with pride from its resting place in the Living Forest.” Your brain recognized the place, though last you recalled it was much more sinister. You wondered how it was now. A moment of silence was given in respect for the late King.  “Lord Liu Kang.” Sindel addressed the god, who had walked over to the Empress. He stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up to her from her place on the throne.

“Empress Sindel.” Liu Kang replied, a smile on his face. “It pleases me once again to be your guest.” He bowed to the Empress, showing his respect for the ruler. Despite being a god, you admired how humble he was.

“Here, you are always welcome.” Sindel replied, her hands spreading out in a friendly gesture. The fire god lifted himself up to look at her once more. Crossing her leg, she leaned forward in interest. “Now, let us meet your champion.” 

“Earthrealm’s champion is Raiden, Your Majesty.” Liu Kang introduced. You looked over to said man who remained rooted to the spot. You placed a gentle hand on his back to push him forward, having a feeling he was too stunned by his nerves. He felt stiff when you pushed him. “He has earned his place by embodying the very best qualities of Earthrealm’s people.”

“You seem nervous, young man.” Sindel observed, her eyes searching the younger man. 

“I’m a stranger in an unfamiliar land.” Raiden said. “Here to compete against its greatest fighters. Yes, I am nervous.” He admitted with a nod of his head. You had to admit, even if it was foolish to admit weakness against these people, his honesty still made you smile. It was just part of his charm.

Never change, Raiden.

“As you should be.” The Empress acknowledged, though her tone was not condescending. If anything, it had a hint of encouragement behind it. “You have a difficult path ahead.” She stood up, and spread her hands out in a grand gesture. “It has begun!” 

Those words felt so familiar to you. Has…this been the first tournament you’ve been to?

“As tradition requires, Outworld’s initial competitor will be Sun Do’s first constable.” Sindel announced. You looked over, hearing the sound of heels clack down the hallway. You recognized the woman approaching. It was the same person that Mileena had been admonishing. “Li Mei.” A determined look was on the woman’s face, contrasting the uncertain one Raiden whenever the tournament was brought up.

You glanced over to Raiden, trying to assess his reaction. It was as you expected. He still had that look of doubt and nervousness on his face. Yet, at the same time, you could see that same determination shining in his eyes. 

“May she defend our realm’s glory as well as she preserves our capital’s order.” Sindel continued to speak, right until the first constable stopped right in front of the Empress’ throne at the bottom of the steps.

“Your Majesty.” Li Mei said, looking up to the ruler. She stood up straight and ready, and you could see the training she must have gone through as both an officer and an Umgadi in her stance alone. “I will honor both the royal house, and all of Outworld, with my kombat.” The officer announced, saluting the woman. A bold claim. Sindel descended the steps, placing a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. 

Their conversation was too hushed for you to listen in. Well, you could listen in if you wanted to, but you figured it would be rude to do so. You also knew it would be very, very obvious if you transformed your ears to do so as well. But from your position alone, you could see hints of resentment within the Empress’ expression, barely visible under the guise of her veiled pleasantries.

You felt…pity for Li Mei. 

“All you need do is your best.” Liu Kang told Raiden. He placed a hand on his shoulder as he regarded the champion. “The rest will take care of itself.” You placed a hand on Raiden’s bicep, looking at him warmly as you nodded.

“He’s right. You being here and having the courage to fight for Earthrealm makes me, and I’m certain Liu Kang as well, proud enough.” You encouraged him, squeezing his arm. Raiden sent you a smile as well. You could see how he was strengthening his resolve for his upcoming fight.

“Yes, thank you both.” Raiden replied, nodding. His gaze switched between both you and the fire god. But as you retreated with Liu Kang, you felt the champion’s gaze linger on you for just a few moments longer.

“Shall we see what you can do?” Li Mei challenged. She seemed more angry now, as if her determination had now been switched out with anger for the man. This made you wonder just what the Empress had said to her during their hushed moment. You clasped your hands together, staring at the duo as they conversed before their fight.

“Hopefully, this will be the first of many victories.” Raiden replied, his tone polite and respectful. You sighed. You knew it was part of his charm, but he seriously needed a lesson in verbally defending himself better. 

“I will prevail, Earthrealmer.” Li Mei declared. Her eyes narrowed at her opponent. “This fight is more important to me than you will ever know.”

The fight began. It was intense. While Raiden was trained well, courtesy of you, the monks, and Liu Kang, you weren’t certain how he would fare against the Outworlders. After all, you knew they had much longer life spans than Earthrealmers, which meant they had more experience than what he could ever have. 

Li Mei displayed great combat prowess. You could see how disciplined her technique was from the way she moved. She was relentless. She treated Raiden as if he were a threat, which he was. She did not dare underestimate her opponent. 

Raiden, however, kept his calm. You watched as he showcased his newfound electric abilities. It was honestly a bit mesmerizing to watch, and you were immensely impressed by how fast he had mastered the new powers. It was as if he had them since birth, and you would have assumed so had you not been there to witness when he first got his powers. You just wished it came from anything else than that cursed amulet.

Still, despite the vigor that Li Mei had shown, Raiden was still able to best her. 

“Thank you for the match, first constable.” Raiden thanked his opponent humbly. With grace, Li Mei stood up. You couldn’t ignore the despondent look on her face. She looked at the young man for a moment. Then, she bowed and then took her leave. You watched her walk off, and couldn’t help but to feel bad for her. The crowd began murmuring as she left.

“My compliments, Raiden, on a well fought match.” Sindel commended the Earthrealm champion. She then stood up, addressing the crowd. “We are adjourned until first light, I hope to see you all at this evening’s banquet.” She announced to everyone, then everyone dispersed.

“Congratulations Raiden.” You said, walking over to the champion. You watched as his eyes seemed to light up at your praise. You pat his shoulder, shaking it just a bit. “Keep it up, and I might just have to reward you when we get back to Earthrealm.” You said, half joking. And yet, the man looked at you with surprise, and there was just a bit of color on his cheeks.

“Really?” He inquired with a hint of surprise in his voice. He blinked as you nodded, thinking of what type of food to make the man. Perhaps a dessert this time? Victory did taste sweet after all. As the others came to congratulate their peer, you backed off to stand next to Liu Kang. You didn’t want to crowd the man.

“I could see your training techniques shining through.” Liu Kang said, looking over to you as he also let the others converse with Raiden. You looked at him, basking momentarily in the praise he was giving to you. Sure, nowadays the praise you received from the god was not rare, but it was delightful to receive all the same. “I could have not chosen anyone better to train him.”

“You’re too sweet.” You reply, feeling bashful at the praise. You looked downwards, before looking back at the small group. “I must admit, I’m surprised with how quickly he adapted to using that amulet.” You said, recalling briefly how he even used techniques the old Raiden had displayed. “You must have taught him well.”

“I merely guided him.” The fire god admitted, his gaze also on the champion. “In truth, it was he who had discovered those techniques himself.” He paused, his hands folding in front of him. “It was almost…natural for him.” There was a tone in his voice…nostalgia? You eyed him, not knowing what to make of the way he spoke.

Did he know more than he was letting on?

“I see.” You replied, uncertain of how to properly respond. Suddenly, you felt like you were hit with a wave of nausea. You stumbled forward, gripping your head. Liu Kang reached out, grabbing your arm to steady you. The throbbing in your head had intensified.

“Are you alright?” Liu Kang inquired, his voice dripping with concern. His eyes searched you, trying to see what was wrong. Wearily, you nodded your head. You swallowed, trying to will away the pain. You closed your eyes as you steadied yourself. He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Are you receiving visions again?”

“I’m fine.” You manage to get out, dancing around the question. “I…I just need some air. I’ll meet you at the banquet tonight.” You told him quickly, not certain what had suddenly befallen you. You hadn’t received any visions this time, just pain. You let out another hiss of pain. For a moment, you felt Liu Kang’s grip tighten, as if he wasn’t sure it was the right decision. Then, his hand let go of you.

“Take care of yourself.”

You nodded, quickly walking off in a direction, just wanting to get outside. You didn’t notice the eyes that fell on your retreating form. The hallways echoed with your footsteps, and you concentrated on the ground ahead, trying to retrace your steps to the front of the palace. You tried your best to ignore the Umgadi who seemed to stare at you curiously. They didn’t interfere though, seeing as you were just walking towards the outside. As you were met with the grand doors, you let out a sigh of relief as you quickly walked outside.

The fresh air was much needed. The intense pain in your head settled down. It was even more bearable than before, which was a much needed relief. Maybe being in there or witnessing all that had caused your head to be overwhelmed. You couldn’t tell, it was all too confusing. You walked forward and sighed, leaning on a railing that overlooked the city in the distance.

It was nice and peaceful out here.

“Ahem.” Jumping slightly, you looked over to the right and saw Li Mei standing out there. She looked awkwardly away, bowing her head as you looked at her. You had not even noticed her there. You looked at her, noting the puffy eyes and the tear stains on her face that you were able to barely see from her nearly hidden face.

Oh. You had interrupted a private moment.

You felt your face flush from embarrassment as you opened your mouth, not knowing how to respond. Unhelpfully, your mind finally granted you a brief memory of the woman before you. You remembered being friends, bonding over lost villages. You vaguely remembered a refugee camp. Well, none of that had been helpful to you in your current situation.

“I…um…sorry.” You managed to get out, turning your gaze away. Silence settled between you two, but it was far from the comfortable type that you were used to. Unable to bear the awkwardness, you spoke up again. “You fought well back there. I almost thought you would have won.” You admitted, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Thank you.” Li Mei said quietly, her voice hoarse. There was a tone to her voice which told you that your words did little to comfort her. She did lose still, after all. There was a moment where you heard her sniffles. Awkwardly, you searched your pockets, before you found a small packet of tissues. Good thing you carried those around with your medical pack. You held it out to her, who looked at it curiously before taking it. “Thank you…again.” She muttered, before using it. You nodded.

“No problem.” You said, the tension easing just a bit. “I’m not lying when I commend your fighting skills, you know.” You continued, your gaze dropping to look down at the waterfalls that decorated the palace. For a moment, you considered turning into a fish and swimming away to avoid this awkward conversation. You couldn’t just…leave her though.

“It wasn’t enough, though.” Li Mei responded, a hint of bitterness in her tone. She did seem to feel better despite this. 

“I think that’s okay.” You say, shrugging. You realized what your words sounded like, and scrambled to clarify what you meant. “I mean that you did your best! And I think that’s commendable! It’s very much okay to be upset though!” You said, and you felt guilty as you watched the police officer just awkwardly nod. “Sorry, I’m not exactly the best at comforting people. I didn’t mean to interrupt your private moment either.”

“It’s alright.” The first constable said, her voice softer now as she fiddles with the rest of the packet of tissues in her hands. “I had been a wreck.” She admitted. She kicked her boot into the ground. “I don’t even know why I told you that, in all honesty. You’re a stranger.”

“Sometimes it’s nice to get things off your chest.” You offered an explanation, shrugging. “I don’t mind listening.” 

“Are all Earthrealmers so trusting?” Li Mei inquired, changing the subject. You had a feeling she was not too trusting of you, which you figured was fair. Her stare lingered on you, a suspicious look on her face. You let out a small laugh.

“Not all, but there are certainly a lot of us who are.” You admitted. You looked over to the woman, nodding your head. “Sorry to intrude on your time, keep the tissues.” You apologized, bowing your head. You walked off, giving her one last final wave. You probably were making the situation worse by sticking around. “It was nice meeting you though, first constable.”

“It was nice meeting you too.”

You didn’t meet up with the others until later, taking the time to try and rest. Being away from people helped your headaches. You had found your room, which the Empress had so graciously allowed you and the others to have. Your room was quite quaint, and from your knowledge, it was fairly close to the hanging gardens, a place that had caught your eye.

Maybe you could take a walk around there later.

As you exited your room, you found yourself a bit lost, not knowing where to go exactly. Was the banquet to be at the hanging gardens? You vaguely recalled someone telling you that during the ride over, but your memory was failing you. You stood outside your door, deep in thought. You hardly noticed the footsteps heading your way. 

“Lost?” A voice inquired. You looked up and noticed princess Kitana walking towards you. You blinked, surprised upon seeing the royal. You stared at her, feeling a memory pop up. She had a similar role in the past life. A princess trained in combat. There were a few more memories attempting to break through, but your head couldn’t make sense of it quite yet. You quickly realized that you had been staring. You bowed to her out of respect, which seemed to please her. 

“If you’re lost, I can guide you to the royal banquet, if you wish.” The princess offered to you, a cordial smile upon her lips as she seemed to analyze you.

“That’d be appreciated, princess.” You said, accepting her offer. You followed her steps, matching her pace. She seemed a bit more friendly, than when you saw her earlier, even if it was just by a tiny bit. The hallways were filled with the echoes of your footsteps. You didn’t mind the silence, trying to dwell on the nagging feeling that you had. Why had you felt like you had seen her in your memories recently?

“Have you enjoyed your stay in Outworld so far?” Kitana inquired, peering over to you. You blinked, losing your train of thought. You hadn’t been expecting her to try and converse with you. You couldn’t tell if she was simply being polite or was actually interested in your thoughts. You just hoped it was the latter.

“I have, your realm is fascinating.” You admitted, reflecting on what you had seen so far. You were glad it was nothing like your memories. “It’s very pretty here. Where I come from, we don’t have sights like this.” You said, referring to both the life you currently lived and the one you remembered. “I’m fortunate to be able to witness this.”

“Indeed.” Kitana nodded. “Not many Earthrealmers get to witness the beauty of Outworld, much less in their prime.” You were momentarily puzzled by what she meant, then remembered that most perceived you as merely an Earthrealmer. You silently wondered if there were others like you out there, others who originated from other realms. You supposed not.

“It is a blessing.” You said, deciding to play along. Best not to raise any unwanted attention to your strange status. “Have you participated in many tournaments yourself?” You inquired, not knowing just how old the princess was. You assumed thousands of years, but just how many was something you weren’t quite sure of.

“Oh, I have participated in plenty.” The princess admitted nearly laughing at the idea. Which in all honesty, didn’t really give you any indicators to her age. She peered over to you, a thoughtful look on her face. “You are known as Lord Liu Kang’s companion, correct?” She inquired, tilting her head in your direction. You nodded, not sure where she was going with this. “What qualifies you to have such a high position?”

“Ah.” You said, realizing that many didn’t get the privilege of being called such a title. You weren’t sure if there even was someone who came before you who had the same title. You weren’t sure how to explain it, many didn’t question the title since it would be akin to questioning a god…but Outworlders were a bit more bold. “I’m not quite sure myself.” You lied. “I just help him with duties and training the champions.”

“I see.” Kitana said, though you could hear the curiosity in her tone. It was the type of curiosity which was not so easily quenched. “So you trained Raiden?” She inquired, her eyebrows raised. You nodded, and she seemed a bit surprised. “You two must be close.” She commented, which made you hum in thought. You nodded as you came to that conclusion as well.

“I guess we are.” 

“We’re here.” She announced, and you found yourself outside where the Hanging Gardens must be. It looked wonderful at night and decorated. Not to mention, the smell of the food in the air was simply divine. She looked at you again, an amused smile on her lips. “You’re interesting, I would not mind talking to you again. Enjoy the feast.”

“You too!” You called out, feeling honored. You stared after her, your mind pulsing as it tried to remember desperately what role she had in your past life. You walked around the area, marveling at how the plants glowed in the cooler colors of the rainbow. You found yourself peering at the tables and found there were particular seating assignments. It didn’t take long for you to find your seat, and luckily you were one of the first there. 

You were to be seated between Johnny and a person named Rain. You stared at the name, a faint recollection returning to you. The name was certainly familiar. The people to be across from you were Raiden and Liu Kang. You’d at least be among familiar faces. That, and you didn’t seem to be seated close to General Shao at all. 

That was a relief.

Soon, people began to emerge from the palace and fill the area. The pressure in your head started up again, and you silently grieved over how you would not be able to enjoy this meal without at least a little bit of pain. With how strong the pressure was, you assume you would not be able to glean any new memories either. Still, you did not complain and sat down as the food was served.

Plates of delicacies were set before you, and as you peered at the cooked meat, you wondered if these creatures were the same ones as on Earthrealm. If there weren’t, you wondered if you could transform into it. When wine was brought about, you declined it. You were against the idea of becoming drunk, fearing your deepest secrets would spill from your very own lips.

You were not giving yourself the chance to sabotage the good things you had. So instead, you got some simple fruit juice.

You mostly indulged in the food presented to you, enjoying the difference in tastes. Mentally, you wondered if you could recreate these back at home. Now that would be something you could surprise Madam Bo with. You did listen in to the others conversations, but the one who you surprisingly ended up talking to the most was the man beside you.

“The Imperial Academy sounds wonderful!” You remarked, marveling at the story that Rain had indulged you in. He was much more friendly than you were expecting. When he had introduced himself as the high mage, you were intrigued immediately. You asked him about how he earned the title, and he informed you of his accomplishments. He seemed proud of his achievements.

“It is indeed.” He said, smiling your way. He nodded as he took a sip of the wine. “And you say Earthrealm has no schools of magic?” He inquired, an eyebrow raised at the words you had told him before. You nodded, chewing a piece of food.

“It doesn’t.” You confirmed, slicing the food on your plate to prepare another bite. “Magic is pretty foreign to our realm. It’s either a rare secret that is passed down through families, you are born with it, or you receive power from another object.” You explained, recalling the different ways that you knew people had received their special abilities. “I’m amazed magic is taught here.”

“I pity the fact that your realm doesn’t have the same privilege as our realm does.” He used your hands, eyebrows raising. “You mentioned your people rarely have magic.” You nodded, confirming what he heard. “Are you also magicless? Or are you part of the fortunate few to be blessed with those abilities?”

“I was fortunate to have those abilities.” You confirmed. Setting down your silverware, you held out your hand and transformed it into a bear’s claw. Rain’s eyes widened with fascination, and you felt proud of your little display of sorcery. “I was blessed to be born with animal shape shifting. I can transform parts, or all of my body at will to any animal I wish.” 

“Fascinating. And you have not studied these abilities formally?” The high mage remarked, eyeing the transformed limb before you turned it back. “Your abilities remind me of another sorcerer in the royal court.” He said, piquing your interest. “He is busy with some duties, but I believe it would be of interest if you spoke with him.” He paused, looking at you once more. “Assuming you strive to learn about the limits of what you can do.”

“I am always looking to grow stronger.” You admit, and it seemed that something in your words struck a chord with the mage. His smile grew as he leaned towards you just a tiny bit more. “I wouldn’t mind conversing with this other sorcerer if he has similar abilities.” You say, nodding, taking note of the tip that he had given you. “What is his name?”

“His name is-” Rain began, but the conversation was cut short as he turned his attention to the front. You also turned to look, and noticed Empress Sindel had risen, holding her goblet in one hand. All of the conversations came to a halt as you watched the empress begin to give a speech.

“My husband Jerrod believed that the future of our realms lay together.” Sindel called out, a smile gracing her lips. Her attention traveled across the crowd. “Let us move forward in open dialogue, letting no secrets tear our bonds asunder.” You watched as everyone began to rise. Grabbing your own glass, you stood as well, raising it out.

“Your highness.” Raiden spoke suddenly, surprising you. “It’s an honor to be here and meet your people.” He looked around, his eyes landing on even the general who had shown him contempt earlier. “I can see there’s more here that joins us than divides us.” Despite the disapproving stare that you could see Shao was sending the champion, he only let out a small scoff.

Your distrust of the man grew, but at least he didn’t make an uproar.

“Well said, young man.” Sindel said, nodding in agreement to the little speech that Raiden had given out. Her smile grew as she lifted her goblet. “Now, let us enjoy the rest of the tournament together, in harmony, just as my husband would have wished.” With that, she lifted the cup to her lips and drank merrily.

With a cheer, everyone followed suit, taking a drink as their empress did. The rest of the feast ended quite well, with little to no issues as far as you were concerned. You had even conversed more with Rain, learning more about the magic culture that Outworld had been blessed with. He even offered to talk more another time, seeing your enthusiasm.

It wasn’t until you were in your room later that you realized that you had forgotten to ask what the sorcerer’s name was.

You couldn’t sleep.

That was to be expected. You always had trouble sleeping. Not to mention the fact that you were in an unfamiliar realm. Not to mention, when you tried to close your eyes, you could only see the lifeless body of Liu Kang. Your body was restless, and you paced back and forth in your room. You didn’t have a window here, the darkness only being abated by a simple crystal lamp. 

You bit your lip as you tried to process all you had seen. You knew you definitely had a history with many people in Outworld. That was undeniable. Your memories only occurred when you encountered people you had at least known and talked to. It would be hard to try and figure out what your connection to all of them were though, since you would either have to stay around here for a prolonged period of time, or have private moments with them.

Somehow, you were more likely to encounter the latter, seeing how your time here was limited.

You sighed as you recalled the chilling vision of the general. Obviously, he had been some sort of villain previously. But was that still true? Your previous memories with Bi-Han had also been unpleasant. Maybe Shao was just an asshole? You weren’t certain, you hadn’t seen enough of him. But then again, you weren’t sure if you wanted to see any more of him.

With a sigh, you soon found your hand hovering over the handle of your door. Would it be weird to go and see if you could explore the palace? You figured that it would be considered off, and maybe even suspicious. They’d surely accuse you of trying to try and steal something. Maybe you could just explore the gardens. It’s not as if you could steal anything there.

That, and you weren’t sure if you could stand being in this room anymore.

You exited the room, slinking quietly into the hall. You masked the sounds of your footfalls, remaining quiet as possible to try and not disturb the others around. Sure you were restless, but you did not want to wake the others from your own energy.

“Where are you going?” A voice inquired, seeing you come down the hall. You walked closer, squinting to make out the figure. Ah, it was Tanya. 

“I just walked to go on a walk.” You explained, hands up. “I’m rather restless, and the time difference between here and Earthrealm is great.” You gestured to the hall where you recollected the hanging gardens were. “I understand that it is late, but I merely wish to tour the hanging gardens, it looks beautiful at night.”

“Is that all?” Tanya inquired, assessing you with a hardened stare. You nodded, not minding how she glared at you. You knew she was only doing her job. She circled you, her gaze akin to a hawk. “Fine. I’ll escort you there.” She said, her tone cautious. You smiled gratefully at her for her generosity. 

The walk there was silent, and unlike Princess Kitana, she offered no dialogue. Still, despite your gaze forward, you knew she was watching you closely. You didn’t mind, just wanting to go to the gardens. A memory began to surface, and you remembered a much different woman. One who sought to reclaim the glory of Edenia, a land that was once lost. How different she seemed now. Your mind did not buzz as much after, so you assumed you did not know her that much in the previous life.

“I’ll be here to make sure you don’t try to sneak in.” Tanya informed you once you two arrived, being transparent with her intentions. Her gaze narrowed as she scanned you up and down. “Do not try anything, Earthrealmer.” She warned.

“I promise I will not.” You said sincerely. Her gaze did not waver, but she did nod approvingly before turning away, letting you roam the gardens.

It was as breathtaking as before. The night sky was tinged with a hint of purple, and the night sky was so clear, letting the stars shine down on you. You briefly wondered if those same stars were the ones that those in Earthrealm would see.

Were Tomas, Bi-Han, and Kuai Liang looking at the stars too, wondering how you were?

The plants around the area flourished with life, and the smell was simply divine. You still couldn’t get over how they had a natural glow. You were tempted to reach out and touch the flora, captivated with their looks. You figured that was rather rude though, so you held back. You did allow yourself to lean in and smell the flowers.

In the midst of your fascination, you did not look ahead, and soon found yourself bumping into a figure.

“Sorry!” You instinctively apologized as you backed up. You shook your head to see princess Mileena. She looked at you with a mixture of frustration and confusion. You offered her a weak smile, and you were granted a memory. A ruthless woman with orange eyes and sharpened teeth meant to tear into flesh instead of lips. She was a clone, not a twin.

Was this really the same person?

Quickly remembering your manners, you bowed to Mileena, who watched you closely with narrowed eyes. Your mind still buzzed, and you knew you must have a deeper past with her. 

“What are you doing out here, Earthrealmer?” She quickly inquired, her eyes watching you with distrust. You held up your hands as you backed up, trying to display that you were not a threat. Irritation was evident, but you had a feeling that the origin of it was not related to you.

“I was just touring the gardens.” You quickly explained. “I couldn’t sleep. Tanya, one of your Umgadi, helped escort me out here.” You added on. You noted how she seemed to relax a bit upon the mention of the guard. She nodded, though you can sense she was on edge.

“I see.” The princess replied, her lips pursed. “Cause no trouble then.” Mileena instructed, then began to walk off. You sensed she was still mad about something, but what you could not fathom. You swallowed, and before you knew it, you opened your mouth.

“Wait!” You called out, turning to look at her. She halted, though did not turn around. “Would you like to hear a quick story?” You offered. Perplexed, she turned and looked at you. Her eyes scanned you, her eyebrows furrowed, clearly confused by your sudden offer. There was a moment of silence, and you wondered if it was presumptuous of you to have offered. You knew you were a people pleaser, but perhaps trying to offer something like a story to royalty was too far.

“What type of story?”

“I did not know Earthrealmers could have such fascinating adventures.” 

“Well, it’s mostly a tale.” You said, smiling at the princess. You had recounted a movie that Johnny Cage had shown you. You did not know why you did this, but it didn’t sit right with you to see Mileena so upset. She was much more relaxed, the irritation that had rolled off of her in waves dissipating as you had told her of the stories.

“Still, the imaginations of your people are…intriguing.” Mileena looked down at her folded hands, a conflicted look on her face before she sighed. “Tell me, why tell me such things?” She inquired, her eyes narrowing towards you. “You do not seem the sort to randomly spew stories, unlike one of your other companions.”

“I thought a story might help.” You replied honestly. “You seemed, and forgive me for being blunt, stressed, princess.” You swallowed as you looked towards the stars. The princess in front of you was much different than you memories had shown. That was good. “I often know distracting myself from my troubles sometimes helps.” 

“I see.” Mileena said, and you heard her shift as she looked away. “I suppose you have good instincts then.” She admitted, though you could tell she felt awkward that she had been read so easily. She paused as she seemed to ponder over something. “Are you often up this late?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” You tell her, crossing your arms as you recalled the many other sleepless nights you had. It was rare you ever went to sleep as expected. “Walks often help clear my mind, so that’s why I went out into the gardens.”

“If you are to be up this late, then I suppose we’ll see each other more often.” Mileena said, and you looked at her in surprise. “I would like to hear more of your tales, they amuse me.” You smiled at her nodding.

“I would be honored to be of service.” You tell her, bowing once more. Mileena looked at you in approval, seeming to enjoy the way you held her in high regard. It was a breath of fresh air compared to her conspirators. 

“Meet me here tomorrow, then.” She instructed. She began to walk off, before pausing once more. “Good night…” She spoke your name, testing it out. Your smile grew wide as you waved at her, feeling satisfied that you had helped her from whatever had irritated her.

“Goodnight, princess.” 

Taking another moment to yourself, you let out a sigh as you turned your face to look at the purple skies once more. Despite the oddities of Outworld, so far your stay here has been quite…nice. A soft breeze passed, and you smiled.

Maybe you did belong, just a bit, in Outworld.

part twelve

tagged: @zhivaxo @koisuko

#mortal kombat x reader #kung lao x reader #liu kang x reader #reptile x reader #smoke x reader #sub zero x reader #scorpion x reader #bi han #liu kang #raiden x reader #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage #tomas vrbada #kenshi x reader #syzoth #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #fanfiction #mk1 x reader #mk x reader #shang tsung x reader #shang tsung #mileena x reader #kitana x reader #syzoth x reader #ashrah x reader #havik x reader #rain x reader

[bupia]

13 and 42 with phantom pls

LICKING

"Makes me want to wreck you." “So excited already…”

There's a smut under the cut, +18 only, please.

(AFAB!Reader: Phantom has a FORKED TONGUE! swearing; licking: oral sex; teasing; nipple play)

Available on AO3

Day 16 | Day 18

"You're fibbing with me," you giggled.

"Why would I lie about that?" Phantom asked.

"Because it's hard to believe!" you retorted.

"But I really have it!" he exclaimed.

"Then prove it!" you insisted.

Sitting on one of the chapel's benches, you crossed your legs and arms in front of him. Phantom sighed and removed his helmet, placing it on your lap. You leaned on it, staring at him as he knelt before you. Slowly, he opened his mouth, revealing his forked tongue.

"Oh, my Satan!" you exclaimed, taken aback. You set his helmet aside and leaned closer to him, holding his face in your hands. "You were telling the truth! That's incredible!"

"I told you I wasn't lying," he replied.

"Can you control it? Do they move together?" you asked, curiosity getting the best of you.

"What do you mean..." Phantom started to answer but stopped as he darted his tongue out of his mouth, moving it up and down. "Of course, they move together!"

"I'm sorry, okay? It looks like two separate parts!"

"Well, they're not, and I can move it as one," he said, demonstrating by smoothly moving his forked tongue from side to side.

"And how does it work?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

"What do you mean, 'how does it work'? It's a regular tongue!" Phantom replied, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"It doesn't look normal to me! You have something like two tongues!"

"It's not... They're not two!" he laughed, wiggling his forked tongue in a playful manner. "It's one, it's just... forked."

"Okay... But how does it feel?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"Normal?" Phantom replied, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I mean, how does it feel to have things on your tongue, I don't know!" you added.

"Like... using it?" he inquired.

"Yeah! Like... licking something, do you lick things?"

"Why would I lick... I'm not a fly, I'm a ghoul!" he chuckled.

"Do flies lick things?"

"I don't know!" he laughed even louder. "But explain to me, what did you mean."

"I don't know, I guess I'm wondering if it feels different..." you said.

"Give me your hand," he said.

You extended your hand to him, watching as he grabbed it. Slowly, he lowered his head and licked the back of your hand. You froze on the bench, surprised by the unexpected gesture. It didn't feel that different from a regular tongue; the texture was the same. But it was the manner in which he did it, and especially the fact that he was doing it.

"So how was it?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I... I... I think..."

"Do you want me to do it again?" he teased.

"Maybe..."

Phantom gave you a sly smirk and lowered his face once again. He gently turned your hand and licked the palm of it, sending shivers down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat, and you practically melted under the sensation, unable to resist the allure of his tongue.

"What about now?" Phantom asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"Feels good..." you replied.

"Yeah?" he chuckled wickedly, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Should I keep going?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.

"Please," you urged.

"Should we try other places?"

"Yes."

He drew closer to you, his strong arms encircling your waist and pulling you in. His face neared your neck, and you could feel his warm breath caressing your skin. Your hand reached for the back of his head, your fingers tangling in his hair, while the other gripped the edge of the bench you were sitting on. Phantom hummed and pressed his lips gently to your skin, intensifying the sensation. His soft, warm kisses traced along your sensitive neck, causing you to squeak and tighten your grip on his hair.

He then opened his mouth, his warm breath sighing close to your neck, making you squirm in response. He brought you even closer to him as he licked your neck, the sensation slow and gentle. Your head tilted back, and you sighed in pleasure as he continued to explore the expanse of your neck. His mouth moved to different spots, planting soft kisses and lapping at your skin, starting gently and then growing more fervent. The sensations sent a fiery passion coursing through you, especially between your legs, where the intensity was almost overwhelming. The pleasure was intoxicating, leaving you lost in the ecstasy of the moment.

"Phan... tom..." you breathed, your voice filled with desire.

"Hm?" he hummed, planting one more kiss on your neck.

"You are... right..." you said, your words coming out in a heated whisper.

He withdrew his face from your neck and looked into your eyes. "Right about what?"

"It's normal..." you confessed.

Phantom chuckled, and you bit your lower lip in anticipation. You removed your hand from his head and moved your hands to the back of your habit, unzipping it. His eyes followed your movements, locked on your every action as you pulled the sleeves down from your shoulders, leaving your chest exposed. His gaze was fixated on your bare skin, and his grip on your waist tightened.

"But I was wondering," you said, your hands now moving to your chest as you looked at him, your eyes filled with longing. "How it would feel here..."

"I'll show you," Phantom said with a seductive confidence.

He leaned in, his face inching closer to one of your nipples, and he planted a sensual kiss on it. His eyes locked onto yours as he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking it gently. You gasped in pleasure, and he responded with a sly smile before biting it delicately. He then closed his eyes and pressed his lips more ardently against your nipples, causing you to arch your back against the bench, lost in the intoxicating sensations.

Phantom continued licking it and flicking it with his agile tongue. Soft moans escaped your lips, and your hands found their way to his neck, pulling him even closer to your chest. The combination of his velvety tongue and warm breath against your sensitive skin heightened your arousal with every passing moment. You arched your back, your nails digging into his neck as you surrendered to the pleasure.

"That's... definitely... better..." you gasped for air, your legs trembling with the intensity of the sensations coursing through your body.

His fingers trailed up your side, igniting shivers of pleasure across your skin, and you felt the middle of his forked tongue teasing and playing with your nipples in a tantalizing dance. The sensation sent your body aflame, a burning desire for more consuming your thoughts. You pushed Phantom away from your chest, but he didn't budge an inch. You placed your hand on his cheek, and he turned his head to meet your touch.

Your hand trailed down his jawline, and you traced your finger along his lips. He eagerly opened his mouth, and you slid your finger inside, savoring the sensation of his soft, wet tongue against your fingertips. A low, longing moan escaped your lips, and your other hand found its place on his shoulder. Leaning forward, you met his lips with your own, and your tongues engaged in a sensuous, passionate dance, further deepening the desire between you.

He slid his hand between your legs, his palm pressing against your groin. A delighted sigh escaped your lips, and your hips instinctively bucked forward. He broke the kiss and gazed at you with lust-filled eyes, to which you responded with a sultry smile.

"May I try my tongue here too?" he asked, his other hand starting to lift your habit.

"P-Please..." you stammered, overcome by desire.

His hand slipped under your habit, and he lifted it to reveal your underwear. You could feel the heat radiating off your aching core. Phantom smiled mischievously as he saw your arousal through the fabric. He ran his fingers over your wetness through the fabric, and you whimpered in delight. Slowly, he slid his fingers underneath your underwear, tracing the outline of your folds. You let out another moan, and he gave you a devilish grin.

"It seems that I'm going to have to remove these," he said, sliding his fingers further underneath your underwear. "You're already so excited... It's so hot here..."

He brought his fingers to his lips, and eagerly sucked them clean. He slowly pulled your underwear down, revealing your wetness. The cool air hit your sensitive skin, causing goosebumps to form all over your body. He lowered his head, kissing your inner thigh. He licked his lips hungrily, and then gently kissed your mound. You let out a gasp, and your legs tensed as his tongue flicked over your clit. Phantom slowly parted your folds, and ran his tongue along your slit.

"Ah... Phan..." you let out a gasp. "Your tongue feels amazing down there too..."

He giggled sending vibrations through your core. His tongue made contact with your clit once again, flickering his tongue back and forth across it, making you squirm in pleasure. You grabbed the back of his head, pulling him closer into you.

"Mmm..." you purred. "Please... Just like that, don't stop, Phan... It feels so good..."

You felt his forked tongue delicately caressing your clit, its twin tips working together in an arousing dance that sent waves of pleasure through your body. Your knees nearly buckled, you bit your lip keep from screaming. He teased you mercilessly, you pulled his hair hard, and he released your clit.

"You taste delicious," he whispered with unbridled lust, his gaze locked onto you. "I could eat you forever, or maybe wreck you... your delicious pussy makes me want to wreck you."

"Please..." you whimpered, begging.

He grinned devilishly and dove back in, his tongue working faster on your clit. The dexterity of his forked tongue allowed him to simultaneously stimulate both sides of it, and he eagerly opened his mouth wider to suck your clit into his warm, wet mouth. Overwhelmed by the intense sensations, you couldn't help but let out a loud whimper, your legs instinctively spreading wider to give him better access.

You closed your eyes and surrendered to the incredible sensations coursing through your body. Your hands clenched the edge of the bench, your hips moving involuntarily, seeking more of his tantalizing tongue. Phantom responded by sucking harder, his twin tips of the forked tongue dancing skillfully across your clit, and his hands gripping your thighs firmly, holding you in place as the pleasure intensified.

"Ah-Ah... Ph-Ahn... Yes... Fuck...!" you cried out, your voice filled with pleasure, and your eyes opened wide with desire. "Don't stop, please, don't stop..."

Phantom continued to work his forked tongue on your clit, and you cried out again, your head thrown back as you rode the wave of pleasure. He pulled you closer, bringing his face flush with your intimate folds, and he began to suck even harder. You let out a long, unrestrained moan as his tongue expertly swirled around your sensitive clit, pushing you further into the throes of ecstasy.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop!" you screamed out in a passionate plea, your desire and pleasure escalating to new heights.

He lowered his mouth, descending to your entrance. His tongue slid inside you, and you felt his nose gently rubbing against your clit. As the tip of his nose brushed against your sensitive nub, you moaned loudly, overwhelmed by the exquisite sensations. Phantom sucked on it with increasing intensity, his teeth grazing it ever so slightly.

"Oh, Satan! I'm going to cum!" you exclaimed in ecstatic pleasure, your voice filled with the urgency of your impending climax.

He didn't stop, and his relentless, insistent suction continued. You felt yourself on the brink, desperately trying to hold back your impending orgasm, but it was building up quickly, unstoppable. His hands squeezed your thighs even tighter, and he began to grind his face against your core, his nose still brushing against your clit and sending delicious tingles throughout your body.

You were getting closer and closer, your grip on the bench tightening, your hips bucking in rhythm with his tongue, and your walls quivered in response to his fervent lapping.

"Yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes!" you cried out as you felt his tongue moving in and out of you, the sensations becoming overwhelming as your orgasm approached.

He continued thrusting his tongue in and out of your entrance, your whole body tensing up as your orgasm finally overtook you. You cried out, your voice filled with pleasure, and your entire body convulsed in bliss. Your juices flooded his mouth, and he eagerly drank down every last drop, not stopping until you were completely satisfied. His face glistened with your essence, and he looked up at you with a satisfied grin, the intensity of your pleasure reflected in his eyes.

He stood up, and your eyes were immediately drawn to the noticeable bulge in his pants, clear evidence of his own arousal. Unable to resist, you extended your hand, your fingers lightly tracing the outline of his hardness. His eyes burned with desire, and his arousal twitched under your touch.

"Maybe it's my turn now to show you how my tongue would feel?" you suggested, tilting your head playfully, a teasing grin on your lips, as you hinted at what was to come.

#kinktober #ghost band #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost the band #smut #phantom smut #ghost smut #phantom #phantom ghost #phantom ghoul smut #phantom ghoul #phantom x reader #phantom nameless ghoul #nameless ghoul #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoul x reader #nameless ghoul smut

[kellykidd]

Baby Severide - Chapter 2: Good Genes

*Gif belongs to its rightful owner, it is not mine*

Pairing: Kelly Severide x reader

Summary: You and Kelly finally get to tell 51 the news

Words: 946

Warnings: medical terms, hospitals, still not great writing, Kelly Severide being sensitive (who knew he could do that)

Read on Ao3 here

Next Chapter: Chapter 3

Notes: I really love where this is going tbh. Anyone who reblogs any chapters of the fic will now be tagged in the remaining chapters to make sure they can come back and keep reading if they so choose (this includes those who have reblogged chapter 1)

Tags: @district447 @keabbs @storiesofsvu @marvelcharactersxreader @carnationworld @witchywinchester99

——

Holding your hand as you walked up the driveway, Kelly kissed your forehead.

“Ready for this?” He asked.

“The 51 love? Always,” you laughed. 

Sylvie and Matt were the first to greet the two of you. 

“You’re glowing!” Sylvie exclaimed, “how much longer until we get to meet this little one?”

“Well, that’s why we’re here,” Kelly started. 

“The doctor is worried that the baby is too big and may cause some risk to the baby. We’ve scheduled a c-section for Saturday morning at 11:30,” you announced, excited.

“That’s amazing!” Sylvie smiled.

“You ready for this?” Matt asked Kelly.

“Yeah, I’m ready. She’s gonna do great,” he replied, “I’ve got to go talk to Boden about extending my furlough though.”

“He’s between meetings right now. Now is your best bet to talk to him.”

“Come with me, I want some opinions on my replacement.”

Matt followed Kelly into Boden’s office. 

“Mind if I have a listen?” Sylvie asked.

“Go ahead, Doctor said she’s got a strong heartbeat. Been kicking like crazy too,” you laughed.

Grabbing your hand, Sylvie led you to the back of 61.

“Two days away, huh?” Sylvie asked, grabbing the stethoscope from the jump bag.

“Yeah, the timeline was a bit of a shock, but more time Kelly and I can spend with the baby together, so I’ll take it,” you smiled, rubbing your belly. 

Sylvie put the earpieces in her ears and brought the chest piece up to your belly. 

“Magical, isn’t it?” You giggled. 

“She’s so strong. Maybe she’ll be a firefighter like her daddy,” Sylvie laughed. 

“With a family like 51, she’d kick ass at it for sure.”

“Should we go see the boys?”

“Make sure Kelly isn’t trying to get back on shift today,” you laughed.

“Here I’ll help you up,” Sylvie offered, reaching out her hand. 

As she helped you back on your own two feet, you started to feel a little woozy and Sylvie could tell.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked, gripping your forearm.

“Yeah I’m fine, just a little head rush.”

“You should sit down.”

“No no I’m okay, really Sylvie. Thank you. Let’s go see Kelly and Matt.”

“Okay, but I’m gonna bring the stethoscope just in case.”

“Fine by me,” you smiled.

Walking over to Boden’s office, you saw Kelly with a few tears on his face through the window. 

Sylvie knocked on the door and you followed her inside. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Nothing baby, I’m okay,” he replied, wrapping his arms around you. 

As you used your thumbs to wipe the tears from his face, more streamed along behind them. His mouth with a slight smile. 

“What did you do with my husband?” You asked, looking at Matt and Wallace.

“He was talking about the baby and how happy he is to be becoming a dad,” Matt laughed.

Boden, Matt and Sylvie quietly left the room as you cupped Kelly’s face in your hands.

“Baby I love you and I love this little girl so much,” he laughed, wiping the tears from his face. 

“I love you too babe. I didn’t know you felt thi-“

Kelly caught you off guard with a passionate kiss.

“Let’s get you home,” he smiled.

——

“Can you believe we get to meet our daughter tomorrow?” You asked, smiling from ear to ear.

“You ready?” Kelly asked, packing the rest of his things for the hospital. 

“As soon as we finish packing for the baby. Then, yes,” you laughed.

“You pick out the outfits for her and I’ll pack the rest. You need sleep baby.”

“I’ll be fine. I don’t want to forget anything.”

“Five more minutes then I’m tucking you into bed. We’re having a baby tomorrow, baby,” he smiled. 

——

Kelly dropped you off out front and went over to the lot to park. You found yourself a bench to sit on while waiting for your husband. An older man was sat down beside you a moment later.

“What are you here for, young lady?” He asked.

“A c-section. My baby is too big so I’ve got to have surgery. You?” 

“Bad heart. Getting a new valve today.”

“That’s exciting, why aren’t you in there?”

“Could say the same for you.”

“I guess that’s true,” you laughed.

“Truth is, they’re putting a pig valve in me. I’m going to be 1/200th part pig by the end of the day. That don’t sit right with me. My son already doesn’t talk to me, why would he talk to me when I’m part pig?” He grumbled.

“I’ll tell you what. Once they do my surgery and say I’m all good, I’ll come by to see you, let you meet the baby.”

“You’d do that for an old guy like me?”

“Hell yeah I would. What’s your name? I’ll have one of my nurses look you up.”

“Aaron Whitley.”

You saw Kelly parking the car and walking towards the hospital.

“Looks like I’ll have to let you go. My husband is walking up,” you laughed.

“With a good looking husband like that, I’d leave me too,” he chuckled, “he looks really strong, what does he do for work?”

“He’s a rescue squad lieutenant with the CFD.”

“Good genes.”

“I guess so,” you smiled.

Kelly walked over with your bag.

“Kelly, this is Aaron. He’s having surgery too today,” you announced.

“Nice to meet you Aaron. I’d love to get to know you, but I’ve got to get her upstairs,” he replied, “thanks for taking good care of her, Aaron.”

“I’ll see you soon,” you smiled.

Kelly shook his hand and you waved behind you as you walked in the front doors to the hospital. Today was the day.

#kelly severide x you #kelly severide x reader #kelly severide fic #kelly severide imagine #kelly severide #Chicago Fire #chicago fire fic #one chicago #baby severide fic #one chicago fic

[separatist-apologist]

Something In The Orange

Summary: Someone is trying to murder Eris Vanserra's soon-to-be wife.

And no one can rule him out as a suspect

Note: Big thanks to @octobers-veryown for the mood board and the unknown anon for the song inspiration.

For @sjmromanceweek

Read On AO3 | Chapter 1: First Date

“Knock knock,” came a soft, sweet voice. Arina turned from her usual haunt in the window, surprised to see an actual, living woman standing in the doorframe. She wasn’t from Avalonia if her high, starched neckline and her chestnut colored hair hidden beneath a pearl studded net was any indication. Arina sat up a little straighter as the woman stepped nervously inside. “I hope you don’t mind. Lucien mentioned you might welcome some non-Vanserra company.”

“I would,” Arina replied without mentioning she’d have welcomed any company that wasn’t the sneering, smug face of Eris Vanserra. He came every evening to insult her while seeming genuinely surprised she didn’t like him, hovering in the doorway until he was satisfied he’d done his duty and vanished. 

“I’m Elain,” Elain told her, extending a delicate, gloved hand. Arina rose from her spot in order to shake it, delighting in the friendship etched over Elain’s face.

“Oh,” Arina said, because she’d heard the ladies at court gossiping about Elain. “I thought—”

“That I’d be pregnant?” Elain asked with a gleam in her eye. “Yes, I heard that rumor was going around. Lucien was caught kissing me and my father overreacted just a tad.”

“I’ll say,” Arina replied with a laugh.

“Don’t tell anyone, but it worked out for me. He never would have been allowed to ask me to marry him otherwise.”

“And that’s what you wanted?” Arina questioned.

Elain smiled, biting her bottom lip. “Yes, it is.”

“Well, someone should be happy to be married,” Arina declared, ignoring the look of curiosity Elain shot her. There would be time to confide everything given they were about to become sisters through marriage, but right then all Arina wanted was a reprieve from Eris.

That meant thinking about him and talking about him. Anything to escape him, even temporarily.

Unfortunately, it was all Elain wanted to talk about. For the first time since Arina had arrived, she allowed Elain to take her out of her bedroom. “When is the wedding?” Elain asked her, adding, “Lucien isn’t allowed to get married before Eris.”

Eris had such a big ego that Arina believed that was true.

“The end of the month,” she said with her usual glumness. 

Elain’s smile brightened. “Rest assured, princess, that nothing happens on time in the palace. If they told you a month, expect six at minimum.”

“You’d wait half a year?” Arina questioned, wondering if Elain knew that Lucien had once been meant for Arina before he was caught. Did it bother Elain? Would it bother Arina were the circumstances reversed? Maybe, if she loved the man and thought the other woman loved him. The problem was Arina’s apathy. Lucien and Eris were nearly interchangeable given how little she knew about them. Maybe she and Lucien would have gotten on better, or maybe they would have been antagonists right from the start, too.

Maybe there was something about her when it came to Vanserra men. Whatever the case, Arina decided it was better to say nothing to Elain rather than risk the budding friendship between them. She couldn’t take another week locked up in her room with the company of a man she suspected had tried to kill her. 

“I’d wait half my life,” Elain assured her cheerfully with a bounce in her step. “If you saw my home, you’d understand.”

“Where—”

“The North,” Elain interrupted, as though she’d been dying to say it. “It’s cold and dreary and even when it’s warm it's not. Here, at least, you have the benefit of all four seasons and proper warmth, you know?”

Arina could only nod her head. 

“Have you seen the gardens?” Elain continued, plowing forward Arina’s emotional defenses with a single minded determination that could have made a soldier weep. “They were the first place I visited when I was brought here. You can tell a lot about a kingdom based on their royal gardens.”

Arina hadn’t seen anything in the palace and it hadn’t occurred to her to ask. Every time she considered it, Eris would appear with that disdainful smile of his and Arina was angry all over again. He acted as if she had done something to cause this marriage—like it was her fault. Arina hadn’t been consulted. She’d been a baby when the details had first been arranged. It was tempting to try and tell him that but Eris wasn’t stupid.

He wanted someone easy to blame. 

And she refused to give him the satisfaction of trying just so he could break her down. If Eris wanted to be at odds then that’s what they’d be. Arina mulled it over as Elain dragged her out into warm sunshine toward a sprawling garden of greenery Arina just did not care about. A building in the distance caught her attention, though.

“Do you know what that is?”

“A kennel, I think,” Elain said, cheerful as ever. “Filled with hunting dogs so I’d stay away if I were you.”

Dogs? 

Arina followed Elain, steps slowing as she recalled the little stray that she’d spent the better part of six months feeding, trying to coax it into the palace. She’d almost managed before her father spotted her and forced her to watch as one of his guards killed the animal outright. It was one of many hard, brutal lessons her father inflicted on her. She needed to be harder, colder, less compassionate.

But Arina still thought about that dog, so skinny she could see his ribs poking through spotted fur, and the big, warm eyes that had trusted her. What a mistake that was for the animal. Arina carried the guilt around like a sack of stones tied to her back, wishing she could go back and save it somehow. Save it from her father or herself, whichever was easier.

Did the king treat his animals well? It was all she could think about as her and Elain took a tour around the garden. Arina recognized she wasn’t being a good friend to Elain, who was clearly trying. Elain’s passion laid in the flowers around them, pointing each one out to tell Arina the names and little plant facts she’d gathered over the years. 

“Do you know if there is a library in the palace?” Arina heard herself asking Elain as they began to double back through the maze of shrubs and trees all artfully planted around an immaculate lawn and careful, stone laid pathways.

“I’m sure there is. All palaces have one, right? Maybe Eris would know?”

Yeah, Arina bet he would. Perhaps Elain noticed her hesitation because she added, “I could ask Lucien? We could go together, if you like?”

Relief flooded through Arina. “I would like that.”

“I’ll get you a sun hat for the garden,” Elain continued undeterred by Arina’s lack of enthusiasm. “You read, I’ll plant.”

“Only if we can have a picnic while we do it,” Arina agreed, the scene stretching before her easily. Perhaps life wouldn’t be so bad with Elain around. Wherever Lucien was sent to once he was married could likely support her, too. They could be friends, living far from the palace having little adventures and general fun while Eris terrorized the capital.

Elain and Arina split ways once inside, leaving Arina to double back toward the kennels. No one paid her any attention, though a few guards watched with bemused expression until she got close enough she could smell the dogs in the air. Only then did someone in a fluttering, red cape and a white and gold uniform say, “Those dogs could kill you.”

“I won’t touch,” she promised, drawing her hands close to her chest. “The prince said I could be here.”

That was a lie and one that was likely to get her in trouble if Eris ever learned about it. But for the moment it also gained her access which was all Arina cared about. The inside smelled heavily of dog and some kind of minty cleaner, with rows of large, spacious cages that housed the animals. Arina didn’t know what she’d expected.

Something small and hungry like the dog from home. These creatures were big, tall enough that when one stood, blue eyes watching her with interest, the shoulders of the creature would have reached her hip. They weren’t starving with no ribs to be found, and glossy gray coats that were reminiscent of smoke. 

They looked fast. Smart, too. No one was inside to watch her—the guards had turned their backs and were chatting amongst themselves. Arina dared to step closer to the cage of the dog standing and looking at her, palm held out in what she hoped was a friendly gesture.

“Hi,” she whispered, watching the dog also creep closer, ears perked up high and tail wagging ever so slightly. That seemed like a good sign, she thought. The two of them came closer and closer, until Arina dared to press her palm to the bars of the cage and the dog sniffed cautiously, his curiosity overriding his instincts. Or, perhaps, they weren’t as mean as the guards made them out to be. After all, all the dogs were sitting at the edge of the crates, some with thumping tails and others with soft, low whines.

Arina was looking at the dog in the next crate when the one smelling her hand offered her palm a tentative lick. She smiled, exhaling as she did. The dog licked again, tail thudding behind him and Arina whispered, “Good boy.”

She went around to all twelve dogs, daring to stick her fingers between the bars to scratch their noses as she became bolder. No one tried to chew off her fingers and by the end of the day, Arina was in a better mood than she’d been in months. She was going to wash her hands, dress herself nicely, sit beside Eris and beg him to let her take them out for a walk. She’d do whatever Eris asked, no matter how absurd. 

Maybe things weren’t so bad, she reasoned. Her marriage was a political farce but there were other good things happening around her. Maybe she didn’t need love. Maybe having friends and a fulfilling life could be enough. Arina wasn’t one to give into pessimism if she could help it. The sun always returned, was still a force to be reckoned with and maybe she could be, too.

At least, she thought so right up until she felt something wrap brutally tight against her throat. Arina tried to pull, tried to struggle but whoever held her had an ironclad grip. Arina went down, lungs aching, thinking of the dogs in the kennel. 

ERIS:

Eris hadn’t intended to meet his youngest brother’s fiance before the wedding. In his mind he figured he’d have to attend the wedding and he could introduce himself there. Tucked away in his study, lounging in a chair, Eris found himself taken by surprise when Princess Elain stepped inside without knocking, her arms crossed over her stiff dress.

“We need to get you a more interesting wardrobe,” Eris said the moment the door clicked shut behind her. The clothing of the north wasn’t practical or fashionable and had always been his one annoyance about Elain’s older sister Nesta. They were beautiful women dressed like nuns. Elain was, perhaps, the most egregious of the three given how effortlessly beautiful she was. It seemed a shame to put her in those heavy coats and tightly boned corsets. 

“Oh?” Elain Archeron asked, her pretty, pink lips upturned with a smile. “Perhaps we could pick out a new wardrobe at the same time we work on your manners?”

“I deserved that,” Eris conceded, sitting up in his chair. “What can I do for you?”

“Where is the library?”

“Off-limits to you,” Eris replied with a small amount of curiosity. “Have Lucien give you the key.”

“It’s not for me. It’s for Arina.”

Eris loathed the way his body seemed to twitch with interest almost as much as he loathed himself for noticing. Elain didn’t notice and Eris refused to give in to the sensation even as his traitorous mouth said, “If she wants access, she’ll have to ask me.”

“She hates you.”

Eris stared at Elain. “I was told you were sweet.”

“I can be,” Elain replied, offering him a truly saccharine smile. “I don’t suppose you want to hear what I was told about you.”

No, Eris was certain he didn’t want to learn the court gossip that surrounded himself. Cruel bastard was likely the most common refrain—but Eris didn’t want to hear it, all the same. 

“Well, as compelling as an argument that was, I’m going to regretfully decline. If my beloved wants to visit the library, she can ask me.”

“And you’ll take her?”

Eris didn’t believe for one moment Arina could read. His father had lamented how woefully uneducated women just a little further west to them were—how a formal education was often eschewed in favor of creating a dutiful wife, of which Arina seemed also unskilled at. No, if Arina wanted in the library it meant she was up to something nefarious and Eris would be there.

Supervising. 

“Anywhere she likes,” Eris replied, flashing Elain his most convincing smile. Not that it worked on her, of course. Elain merely watched, brown eyes narrowed with suspicion. When had the palace become filled with women who hated him, he wondered? Once, Eris had walked these halls like a god. Now women stared him down with disdain in their eyes.

Well. Elain and Arina did. 

But how long before their bad attitude affected everyone else? 

“It was nice to meet you,” Elain assured him, her tone betraying that meeting him had been the exact opposite. Eris inclined his head, allowing Elain to leave as he reclined back in his chair, chin resting against his fingertips. So. Lucien’s former and current fiances had teamed up, had they? Formed a little alliance at court? 

That annoyed him. 

He could have gone to complain to Lucien, who was irritated that Eris was going to marry Arina even after Lucien himself had wrecked everything. Lucien had never considered the consequences of his actions and figured everything would work itself out because it always had.

For him. Not for anyone else, of course, but for him it always had and always would. Lucien got the woman he wanted but had to face down the reality that in doing so, Arina got Eris.

He considered going to his father and demanding Arina be kept away from Elain. Beron would see it done which was precisely what kept Eris in his chair. If his father thought secluding Arina away from court and isolating her from all potential friends was a good idea, that told Eris he was being unreasonably awful.

He didn’t want to align with his father on the personal. Rarely on the political.That didn’t mean Eris was going to stop what he was doing and rush to see Arina. He was in no mood for another showdown with a woman and instead returned to his work with renewed vigor. If there was one thing Eris always found motivating, it was avoidance. He didn’t want to talk to Arina and so work suddenly became fascinating.

His duties, once mundane, seemed to him almost special in comparison. And as Eris finished, well aware he needed to go see her, he had the realization that he wished he could grasp her by the shoulders and make her see that he had not wanted this either. That he had begged and negotiated and argued in circles trying to avoid the fate they’d now found themselves in. 

If he could have freed her, he would have. Without hesitation.

He couldn’t. Not without enraging his father and risking a lot of people’s lives. Beron would hurt Eris but he wouldn’t kill him, not after the years spent grooming him to one day become king. In his way, Beron seemed to like Eris better than anyone else in his family. Perhaps it was being the hoped for, first born son that softened Beron—if Beron’s treatment of Eris could ever have been called soft. 

He’d suggested just killing Arina’s father, absorbing the territory, and installing Arina at court. It had seemed like Beron might agree for a time before his advisors caught wind of the plan and promptly shut it down. There was nothing nobles hated more than seeing one of their own so easily deposed. It made them restless—hungry for blood. As far as Eris was concerned, this was their punishment for throwing their little tantrum.

Diplomacy had won the day, which meant none of their daughters would ever sit on a throne.

Arina had saved him from that, at least—he liked sleeping with the ladies at court but he didn’t want to be married to them. They lacked ambition, were merely puppets to their more powerful fathers who would attempt to weaponize their daughters against Eris and though Eris knew it wasn’t their fault, he resented them for it.

Was it so wrong to want someone to want him? Yes—and he knew better than to want it. Eris had pushed those notions away until they were so deeply buried he was convinced they didn’t exist anymore. Boys wanted love but men knew better. It was that thought that kept Eris from seeking out Arina until she didn’t come to dinner. Predictable behavior, he thought with some irritation—and rich, too, given she’d accused him of being a coward. Eris spent the better part of the evening preparing his speech to her in which he’d demand her silence as he informed her there was no escaping this marriage.

And to get used to it. They could figure the rest out later, though Eris wanted separate lives. He’d offer her up any of their numerous estates if she wanted to live somewhere else—after she gave him a son. Just one, he thought privately. The idea of having to sleep with an unwilling woman more than he was required to made his stomach turn. 

Every step brought him closer to the proverbial hang man’s noose. Hells, but he did not want to have this conversation with her. Eris had nearly convinced himself not to go into her room at all when he arrived. But Arina had called him a coward and Eris needed to prove to her—and maybe himself—that he was no coward. He could do hard things.

He could…walk in on Arina laying dead on the floor.

“Fuck,” he breathed, crossing the room quickly only to slam to the ground, his knees screaming in protest. “If you godsdamn die right now—”

There was a cord twisted around her throat, tight enough it had left a bruise against her otherwise unblemished throat, but not so tight Eris couldn’t slide his fingers through and relieve the pressure against her airway. With his other hand, Eris lifted her floppy, lifeless body into his lap so he could undo the knot behind her tangle of thick hair. 

She wasn’t dead. As he worked he saw the faint, frantic flutter of her throat pulsating against her skin. Close, maybe, but not dead and that was all that mattered. Arina began to take deeper breaths as color returned to the gold of her cheeks, chasing away the blue tinge of her lips.

Eris was certain he’d aged a decade in the frantic minutes it took to free her. Arina opened eyes filled with panic as she gripped his forearm, looking around wildly.

“Don’t speak,” he warned, pocketing the cord. “Just breathe.”

“You,” she rasped, the word an accusation. Did she truly believe he’d order her dead only to revive her? It would have been all too easy to slit her throat while she laid there and blame it on someone else. Eris shifted, spreading his legs a little wider as Arina pushed herself from his lap only to collapse between his thighs, palms flat on the marble floor. 

“What did you do to make someone so vengeful?” Eris asked, more curious than anything. That was twice now—surely it wasn’t a jilted courtier coming after her. There was something deeply personal about this second attack, though Eris couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Poisoning was detached, removed from the person being killed but strangling seemed intimate. Angry, even. 

Arina didn’t answer, turning those too-big eyes on him. “Is there a bruise?”

Eris clenched his jaw. “Yes.”

“I think I’d like to be alone,” Arina whispered, pushing herself off the floor like she’d practiced this before. Eris recognized what was happening—the way she set her jaw, swallowing the urge to cry so she could look at him with blank, dead eyes. No emotion, just a numb sort of detachment he’d perfected himself. For a moment he remained exactly where he was, his mind unable to process what was happening.

And then he stood. “You need a guard.”

“I want to be alone,” she repeated, her voice whisper soft. “Thank you for this.”

It wasn’t good enough. Eris hated her dismissal even more. “Tell me who did this.”

“I don’t know,” she said, refusing to look at him.

“I’ll—”

“Eris, she whispered, twisting her fingers nervously in front of her body. “Please.”

Growling in frustration, Eris stalked from the room unsure what he wanted to do. He heard the lock click behind him, shutting him out definitively. Fine. She didn’t want his help then he wouldn’t offer it.

But all night, all Eris could see when he closed his eyes was Arina lifeless on the floor in a heap, her face hidden beneath all that soft hair. His mind forced him to replay her wrapping those long fingers around her throat, feeling for the dark bruise already forming against her skin as the light winked out of her gaze.

It wasn’t the first time someone had hurt her that way.

But Eris swore it would be the last. 

#eris vanserra #do NOT get used to all these updates happening #i will be returning to my goblin cave just as soon as the week is over

[xiaq]

Steddie Time Travel Fix-it: Pt 2

Ao3 Pt. 1 Pt. 3

There’s a knock on the door halfway through dinner.

Wayne gets up to answer and Eddie doesn’t think much of it until Wayne pauses with the interior door only half open. He doesn’t reach for the screen.

“Eddie,” he says.

He sounds cautious.

Eddie gets up to join him.

Steve Harrington is standing on their stoop. The shoulders of his letterman jacket are beaded with water from the mist of rain that accompanied the sunset and then never dissipated. He’s holding Eddie’s lunchbox in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other.

Earlier, after the incident in the hallway, Eddie had gone back to the school during fourth period. He already knew the lunchbox would be gone, and it was, but he had to check. He walked home before he had the chance to run into Harrington in the hallway again. He tidied up the trailer and cleaned the bathroom and made pasta for dinner and actually did some of the homework he’s constantly neglecting and tried to focus on anything that wasn't mentally replaying every fraught second that occurred in the bathroom that morning. 

It couldn’t have really happened like that.

Could it?

He’s nearly convinced himself if didn’t.

Except now Steve Harrington is standing on the scrubby half-dead grass of their lawn looking sheepish. Despite his relaxed posture, his eyes are still…intense. Frightening, maybe, if Wayne wasn’t standing right next to him, arms crossed.

“Hi,” Steve says. He holds up the lunchbox. “You left this and I figured you’d want it back.” He glances at Wayne. “And, uh. I wanted to apologize for this morning.”

He looks like he means it.

Eddie taps Wayne between the shoulders. “I’m good,” he murmurs.

Wayne gives him a disbelieving look, which is fair, but he backs up, letting Eddie pull open the screen door and step outside.

He waits until Wayne has fully retreated inside to gesture toward the lunchbox with one hand.

“Well?” He says, full of bravado he doesn’t feel.

Steve takes a careful step forward and proffers it.  He’s deliberate with the exchange; their hands don’t touch as Eddie curls his fingers around the handle.

He opens it. 

“I didn’t take anything,” Steve says quietly. 

Eddie has to admit that it doesn’t appear he did. Everything is still just where he left it that morning. He does a quick count and, baffled, closes it again.

“So you’re just bringing it back to me. No finders fee. No strings attached?”

“No, of course not. I mean, it was my fault you left it,” he says. 

This is true. But truth doesn’t often matter for the people Harrington runs with.

Eddie shoves at his quickly dampening hair. “You said you had an apology too.”

“Right, yeah.” Steve takes a step back, hooking his free thumb in his pocket, eyes on his too-white sneakers. “I’m sorry for freaking you out. I had a really weird morning and I know that’s not an excuse but––”

He glances up, meets Eddie’s eyes for a single, heart-wrenching, second, and then abruptly looks down again. “I noticed you didn’t come back and I don’t want you to miss school because of me. So, I’ll leave you alone from now on.” It sounds like it costs him something, saying that. 

“I miss plenty of school. Has nothing to do with you,” Eddie says. “Any chance you want to explain what the hell that was this morning?”

“I can’t,” Steve says to his shoes. “I’m sorry but I really can’t. It won’t happen again, though. I swear.”

The mist is starting to turn into actual rain.

“Listen,” Eddie says, half regretting it before he’s even extended the invitation. “Do you want to come inside for a minute? I don’t think that radio should be getting wet.”

Steve looks at the walkie in his hand like he’s seeing it for the first time. “Right,” he says. “Is that––I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Eddie pulls open the door and holds it. “Come on, Harrington. I trust you’ll keep my virtue intact.”

“Do I need to leave?” Wayne asks dryly.

“I said keep my virtue intact,” Eddie responds, “get your ears checked, old man.”

“Not sure you’ve got much virtue left,” Wayne mutters, nodding to Steve from where he’s sitting at the table.

Eddie looks for Steve’s reaction. Sure, the guy felt him up that morning, but he’s still an asshole jock who probably won’t appreciate the implication that he’d be interested in despoiling Eddie to begin with. Except Steve is standing just inside the door, seemingly oblivious to anything Wayne has said.

He’s staring up at the living room ceiling.

His body is a line of unassailable tension.

Eddie follows his gaze but there’s nothing there––not so much as a stain or a bug or a cobweb or…anything else worth glancing at, much less whatever the hell Steve is doing. ‘Staring’ seems like a tame description.

“Dude,” Eddie says, “are you okay?”

Steve flinches, redirecting his attention. “Weird day. Like I said.” He waves awkwardly to Wayne. “Hi, sorry for interrupting your dinner.”

“We were mostly done anyway,” Wayne says. “Don’t mind me.” He pointedly picks up the newspaper, shooting Eddie a glance that Eddie ignores. He leans into the bathroom to grab a towel and tosses it to Steve who catches it against his chest, like a reflex more than an intentional movement.

“Thanks,” he says.

He notices Eddie’s guitar, still sitting on the couch where he’d been attempting to work on a song earlier, and his face does something complicated. “Are you playing at Hideout this weekend?” he asks, rubbing the towel briskly over his hair.

Eddie stills. “What?”

“Your band?” He looks uncertain. “I thought I heard you might be playing at Hideout this weekend.”

“We have an audition there this weekend,” Eddie says slowly, “For a semi-permanent spot that just opened up. But we haven’t told anyone. Or I didn’t think we had.”

“Oh,” Steve says. He hands the now-damp towel back. “I must have misunderstood––Robin said she heard about it.”

“Robin Buckley,” Eddie says.

“Yeah, we…recently became friends.”

It’s a stilted statement, and clearly untrue. But Eddie doesn’t understand how it can be a lie when he has never, never, seen the two of them interact until this morning. Whatever the hell that interaction was. And how Robin would have heard about the audition, he doesn’t know. Though Gareth does sit next to her in English.

“Anyway,” Steve says. “Good luck.”

“Would you come see us play if we do get the slot?” Eddie asks, genuinely curious.

“Yeah,” he says, “if you were ok with it.”

Eddie tosses the towel over the edge of the sink and leans back against the counter, arms crossed disbelievingly. “Do you even listen to metal music?”

“Sure.”

“Like what?”

“Dio,” Steve says promptly, and then flushes for some incomprehensible reason. “Metallica. Black Sabbath. You know.” He gestures as if to say ‘the usual,’ except there is nothing usual about this conversation.

“I do know. The fact that you know is surprising,” Eddie sighs. “Steve Harrington, you have hidden depths. Here I was thinking you probably jammed to Madonna and ABBA but apparently you actually have good taste.”

Steve smiles: a small, pleased, little thing. “I mean. I like Madonna and ABBA too.”

“Well,” Eddie sighs, “I guess no one’s perfect.” He gestures to the radio in Steve’s hand. “Can I ask what the walkie talkie is about?”

“Oh,” Steve says. “It’s––” he looks at it, scrubbing his free hand through the back of his already disheveled hair. Eddie likes him much better like this: mussed, awkward, real.

 “I don’t know how to say this without it being weird,” Steve says. “But it’s for you. If you’ll take it.”

“...why?”

 “Just. If anything ever happens. If you’re in trouble and need help or anything. I’m on channel two. And I always have mine on.”

He’s holding the radio out now with a kind of desperate urgency, eyes dark and liquid and entreating.

Eddie takes it. He looks down at the walkie and then back at Steve’s relieved face. “So I call and you’ll, what, come rescue me?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’d try.” He glances at the ceiling again, just for a second. “I’d try,” he says again, quieter.

Eddie believes him.

“Do you know something I don’t?” Eddie asks. “Am I in some kind of danger?”

“No, no, just a precaution. I’ve heard some stories about weird shit happening in the woods recently and I was…” he trails off.

“Worried about me,” Eddie says flatly.

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t get a chance to point out that Steve Harrington worrying about Eddie Munson makes no fucking sense because the lights flicker.

It’s not even a full outage, which wouldn’t be uncommon; the wiring in the trailer is shit and the electric company is even shittier. But the lights dim briefly and the TV, playing a ballgame quietly in the background, cuts off and back on. It’s hardly two seconds of time total.

But Steve goes still. The kind of still that makes Eddie think of predators and prey and he’s pretty certain he feels like the latter in this scenario, watching as Steve’s eyes track from the floor lamp to the table lamp to the light over the sink.

“You ok, son?” Wayne asks.

Steve abruptly moves back toward the door. “Fine,” he says, pulling it open. “Sorry. I should go.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Eddie says slowly. He sets the walkie talkie on the counter.

Eddie follows him down the steps and then pauses because Steve has stopped walking.

He turns abruptly, hands shoved in his pockets. “Can we be friends?” he asks. “I know you think I’m an asshole and god knows I was then. Or, I mean, I know I’ve been an asshole. But I’m trying not to be, anymore. And I’d like to be friends.”

Eddie still isn’t fully convinced this isn’t some sort of long, weird, trip.

He has no idea what the hell is going on with Steve Harrington, but he knows intimately what it’s like to need someone, and for some unfathomable reason Steve seems to think the someone he needs is Eddie. He might be ok with being that someone. Maybe. If only because he’s so, desperately, curious to see what will happen if he does.

“Well, I think we have to be friends at this point,” Eddie says slowly.

“We do?”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard,” Eddie says, gesturing to himself, “but I’m the king of the freaks around here, and you, Harrington,” he pokes Steve with a single, brave, finger, in the chest, “you are definitely a freak.”

Steve laughs. It’s a shallow, fragile, little noise, but it’s real and Eddie feels unaccountably proud being responsible for it.

“Good point,” Steve says.

“Steve Harrington, admitting he’s a freak. You really have undergone a transformation.  Next you’ll be telling me you want to join Hellfire. Which, hey, a new campaign starts in two weeks, if you’re interested.”

“Okay.”

“…okay,” Eddie repeats.

“I quit the basketball team,” Steve says. 

“You what?”

“So I’m free after school. I’m not good at math, but I can get some dice and come up with a character by then, yeah.”

“What the fuck,” Eddie says blankly.

“Sorry?”

“You’re serious.”

“Yeah,” Steve says. He squints through the darkness, head tipped, like he’s confused by Eddie’s confusion. Like all-star athlete team captains routinely quit their sport and ask to join the school’s most-derided club.

“You know how to play D&D?” Eddie clarifies.

“Sure. Mostly.” “Okay. What kind of character are you thinking of playing?” He’s expecting a Fighter. Maybe a Barbarian. If Steve even knows what those are. He’s not expecting—

“Paladin,” Steve says. “If that’s ok.”

“Sure. Paladin.”

“Cool. I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

Steve makes an aborted move like he wants to reach out to him, the same haunted look on his face that he’d worn that morning when he touched Eddie’s side and repeated you’re ok over and over again like he was trying to convince himself the words were true.

He doesn’t touch him, this time, but he does say, “Goodnight, Eddie,” with what feels like a continent of emotion behind it.

And then he wheels around and practically runs for his car.

Eddie goes back inside with even more questions than he had this morning.

“That boy is not okay,” Wayne says conversationally as Eddie returns to the kitchen.

“What?”

Wayne gestures with his beer toward the closed door. “The only people I know who move around in an enclosed space like that are war vets. Tell me why a teenager puts his back to corners and keeps tabs on exits and looks like he’s trying to decide between fight or flight when the power flickers.”

Those are all excellent points.

“Just be careful around him,” Wayne says.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “Yeah, for sure.”

He moves to retrieve the radio from the counter and walks back to his bedroom with it. He uses the hem of his shirt to wipe off a few raindrops on the mic and sets it on his bed until he can think of a better place to put it.

He thinks about Steve’s hands, fisted in his pockets, the wet curl of hair, the way he’d asked, like it would be a favor, if Eddie would be his friend.

He still has no idea what’s happening, but he’s not sure he wants it to stop.

Pt. 3

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington/eddie munson #eddie munson/steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #myfic #stranger things fic