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#he only appears when he is caught up in the moment or when he is playing an event seriously and wants to WIN
caxde · 2 days
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lovingsomeone | steddie x reader
summary: Eddie's got a crush on you, Steve's got a crush on you, and you're not sure who you like. A school dance and a summer party help you figure things out. (9.3k)(srry i got carried away)
warnings: smut! 18+ mdni use of alcohol and weed, afab reader, p in v sex, masturbation, oral sex and overall teenage horniness. Steve being overconfident and Eddie being a nervous wreck.
a/n: I did a first part to it answering a request and kept writing, so i put it all together! enjoy<3 english is not my first language!
“So, will you actually say something to her this time?” Robin teased Eddie for the hundredth time. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped back, shaking his head as he overly enunciated every word, trying desperately to not blush at the thought of you. 
“Sure you don’t.” She breathed out, pushing her head back. 
Robin had always been preceptive, even more so when it came to her best friends. Maybe that’s why Robin had no problem when it came time to figure out what was going on. 
She was the first -and maybe only one- to catch Eddie’s lips opening, the clenched fists, the way he always tried to make you laugh or how he looked fastly over at you everytime something funny happened, just so he could see you smile. 
It wasn’t long after when she clocked Steve doing something similar. Steve would always fix his hair before talking to you, he took a step closer than he had to when he was talking to you, his hand lingered when he passed something to you. Most importantly, Steve was a big flirt, and Robin could tell it was working. 
She still was unsure about you. 
She had caught you looking at Eddie when he was deep into a story, your eyelids half closed, as if you were daydreaming about him, and she was sure she had seen you bite your lower lip after looking at his neck. 
But today you had called Steve an idiot with a dumb smile, a playful touch to his chest that had left your cheeks with a pinkish hue, only made worse when Steve grabbed your hand so he could make you twirl to the sound of the music emanating from his car before he left when he dropped you both off. 
Robin was now sitting outside the car park, with an Eddie who was lost into you. 
Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and the way your hair moved as you walked closer to them. 
“You’re doing okay?” She asked with an eyebrow raised, as she schotched over so you’d sit next to her as you always did. 
Eddie didn’t even look up, he just grabbed the chocolate bar he had in his pocket, for exactly that reason, handing it over to you. 
“You don’t have to.” Your voice came out all shy, a soft smile as you looked at the colorufull wrapper that laid right in his hands. 
“I know.” Eddie muttered, nodding his head at you, the usual grin he had only for you appearing on his face. 
“Thanks Eds.” You managed to say, grabbing it and biting it. 
Robin rolled her eyes as soon as she saw Eddie focusing on the way your lips opened, stifling a laugh as she shook her head. Both of you are oblivious to the way the other feels.
“Are we still going to the dance tonight?” You asked, breaking the small moment of silence that had formed. 
“Is it tonight?” Eddie asked, his usual teasing tone in his voice every time this topic came up. 
“Yes…” You squinted your eyes at him, knowing he’d smile as soon as he saw you. 
“Yeah, we’ll be here.” Robin confirmed, standing up from the little curbside she had settled into. “Can you give me a ride, Eds?” She asked, tussing her hair in the middle of the question. 
“Uh, sure. D’you need a ride, dove?” Eddie was embarrassed as soon as he muttered the nickname he tried, recomforted by the way you seemed to be pleased by it. 
“I think Steve’s picking me up.” You felt a bit guilty saying it, made worse by Eddie pressing his lips together, followed by a short nod as he went to find his van. 
“Okay, what’s the deal?” Robin had had enough of playing detective. She needed to know what was going through your mind. 
“What do you mean?” You scrunch your nose, not really wanting to know if she was asking what you thought she meant. 
“Oh come on! Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve has a crush on you, you..?” She left the question open, wanting you to finish it with an answer, instead you got all flustered, standing up straight in a fast motion, trying to make sense of what she had just said. 
“Eddie doesn’t have a crush on me! Neither does Steve, he’s just being nice… And I just, they’re both…” 
“Hot?” 
“Shut up…” You punched her on her shoulder, a giggle escaping both of your lips. “They both treat me so well, and they’re kind and yeah… they’re hot.” 
Robin couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could you, it only made it worse when Robin suggested that if you played your cards right, you might see Paris. 
It continued until Steve’s car stopped next to you. 
Steve stepped out, fixing his hair in a movement that made you wish you could be the one fixing it. His other hand held a small gathering of wild flowers, with pink carnations sticking out of them. Robin's mouth opened wide, as she saw how Steve moved closer to you, looking nervous. 
“Hi.” You chirped, as soon as he stood right in front of you, his feet almost touching yours. 
“Hi.” He stuttered a bit, his nervous energy made evident. He gave a quick glance at Robin, who just nodded, stepping back a bit. “I uh… I know this might be cheesy but, these are for you–” He stopped talking when your fingers brushed his, the same feeling he always had invading your body. An electricity, a warmness that was hard to explain. 
“They are lovely… Why…?” The sweetest tone that could be heard as a melody came out of your lips, and Steve could live in it for an eternity. 
“I… I kinnda wanna take you to the dance, if you’re okay with it.” He begged, a faint trace on it on his tone, as he stepped a bit closer, your feet between his opened legs. His eyes locked into yours, you were a goner as soon as you looked at him and the way his lips curved a bit more on the right than they did on the left. 
“Like a date?” You echoed, a glimpse of hope evident enough that his teeth were now showing when he smiled as he nodded. “I’d love to.” 
Steve caressed your cheek as he reached to hold your hand, walking you to his car as he opened the door for you, he was still going to drive you home. 
Unlucky for Eddie, he had seen the whole thing, and Robin said nothing, just waited for him to start the car. 
-
You and Robin were supposed to get picked up by Steve, who was supposed to pick Eddie up. 
It did happen, only that the tension in the car between both boys could be felt, even from outside and with the windows rolled up. 
No music was playing on the radio, Steve was grabbing the steering wheel a bit harder than he needed to -his knuckles turning white- whilst Eddie kept playing with his index finger, one swipe left, two swipes right. 
Eddie wanted to talk, to ask Steve is he was serious about it, but the smell of aftershave was intoxicating enough to confirm he was. 
As soon as the car stopped, Eddie looked at the wooden doors of Robin’s house, and the way Steve walked them up with such confidence -even if he was just faking it, he was nervous about it all going well, so much so he hadn’t even realised he drove over with no music on- he left a knock on the door, for it to open shortly after. 
You were truly breathtaking. 
Red had never looked that good. The dress hugged your chest, a flowy skirt dropping from your waist, your arms decorated with the same red colour as what looked like a scarf fell from them. Your hair was out of your face, your eyes shined a bit more, your lips looked pinker, juicier. He was losing his mind. 
It only hurt a bit more when he realised he had his hand out, waiting for yours to fit in it, but you moved past him, accepting Steve’s instead, as he twirled you around, praising you, telling you just how good you looked. A shower of compliments Eddie was also thinking, but couldn’t articulate. He just stared at the floor, only looking up when he felt Robin’s touch on his shoulder, a look of compassion held between the both of them. 
Nobody would blame you, or the hyperfixation you had all of a sudden with the way Steve’s neck looked, the red tie wrapping around it, contrasting with the white shirt. What was worse, you had never realised just how many moles and freckles Steve’s skin had, the one that laid where his jaw met his neck was particularly driving you insane. You danced the night away, mostly it was the four of you in a little circle, chatting and drinking whatever was inside the punch. Steve’s hands only found your waist when a slow song played. His thumbs grabbed you a bit too hard, in a way that he knew immediately why you bit your lower lip, and in response your hands were behind his neck, your nails tracing a patron in his skin, tugging his hair slightly. He grinned, chuckled and made you laugh, his eyes shining, looking at yours. You had never seen such beauty in brown until now. 
Maybe you did like Steve, and maybe he did like you. 
Eddie went outside. As soon as he saw you biting your lip, his hands on your waist, yours in his hair, he needed some air. 
He wished it were him. He wasn’t as fancy as Steve was, he had a white shirt under his uncle's old muted brown shirt. He struggled to remember in which pocket he put the Marlboro's away. He had been fidgeting with his lighter for a while, needing, craving a moment of silence. 
He was almost done smoking as he felt sorry for himself, when he heard the doors opening, the sudden music became clear for those brief seconds. 
He turned around, seeing you walking towards him with the biggest smile he had seen in your face for a while. 
For a brief moment, he forgot he was hurt. 
“You do look beautiful Moon” You told him as soon as you reached him, your body next to his, snatching the half smoked cigarette that he had in between his fingers. 
He scoffed, turning his whole body to look at you, he saw the way you smiled up at him, you were being sincere which was only just as hurting as you dancing with him had been. 
“Beautiful?” He questioned, a slight teasing on his tone as he inched closer, breathing in the smoke you let out, stealing the cigarette back. 
“Yeah, beautiful handsome Eddie.” You uttered, the faint smell of alcohol left your mouth, Eddie scrunch his nose. 
“You’re drunk?” 
“No, only had one drink. But you’ve been moody, I miss you in there.” You chirped back, your usual playful tone didn’t make him smile, not even grin. You got worried right there and then. Your hand reaching for his, trying to pull him back into the party. 
“I’m sure you’ll have a great time.” He implied, nodding at Steve who was just now opening the door, looking for you with a lovesick grin on his face. 
“What’s going on?” You weren’t sure what you had done to leave him in such a state, he seemed hurt, his words colder than they had even been. 
“Nothing.” Eddie lied, you hated lies. 
Something in you clicked, as you saw the way Steve smiled you, a contradiction to Eddie’s pursed lips as his jawline looked sharper than it ever did. 
Robin’s words echoed in your head Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve��s got a crush on you. 
“Well, next time have the courage to ask me out before someone else does…” You snapped back, your arms crossing over your chest, a protective stance taking hold of you as you stepped back. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shook his head, his hair brushing against his face, an apologetic look on his eyes that made you want to cry. 
“It means don’t just suppose nobody will want me, am I supposed to wait for you forever?” 
Eddie couldn’t quite believe that declaration, knowing now you might also have some feeling for him, but he was a little too late. You sniffled your nose, shaking your head, your hair flowing everywhere. “Forget it.” You declared, leaving the little bubble you were in. 
You walked over to Steve, and he just looked at you, the smile he had turned as soon as he saw the way your eyes were crystalizing, menacing with tears. He cupped your cheeks with his hands. 
You gave in, your body hitting his, Eddie just saw the way your shoulders moved up and down. 
You were crying now. 
“Honey…” Steve begged as he took you in his arms. “Do you want to leave?” 
“I’m sorry.” You whispered back, feeling warmer in his arms, the coldness of Eddie’s words brushing away with the closeness of Steve’s body. 
“Don’t be. We can go anywhere you want. As long as I’m with you I’m happy.” He blurted, his eyes looking at yours, his thumbs brushing out the tear that came out of them. 
“Are you sure?” 
“‘curse I am.” He added, a smile returning to his lips, before he kissed the crown of your head. “I can also drop you off.” He offered, you shook you head. 
“I don’t wanna be alone.” You answered, your voice still barely above a whisper. 
“That’s fine, you wanna go for a walk?” He replayed instead, taking your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. 
As soon as you nodded he started walking. He didn’t push for you to talk, he didn’t try to make assumptions, but of course he did. 
The last he had seen was you talking with Eddie. Steve had always thought that Eddie was beautiful, he had a magnetic pull with people that was hard to explain, and he also knew that Eddie was sharp with his words. So he gave you enough time to gather your thoughts. 
“I do like you…” You confessed, your tone remaining low and soft as you spoke, looking at the ground, not confident enough to look at him right now. 
“I like you too.” He gleamed with pride, though he thought that much was obvious. 
“I… I figured that out with the flowers.” You recalled, as a shiver from the cold air made you shake a bit. 
Steve wasted no second, his tuxedo jacket laying on your shoulders now. 
“The flowers gave me away?” He teased, a short chuckle in the back of his throat. “It wasn’t my constant offer to drive you anywhere?” He admitted with a defeated laugh. 
“I thought you were being nice.” You admitted, still not looking at him, much more interested in the way your shoe made contact with the ground beneath your feet. 
“I was. I also have this crush on you.” The word sended shivers down your spine. 
“Robin says Eddie also has a crush on me.” That when you looked up, seeing a defeated nod from Steve only confirmed it. “I… I don’t know what to do.” 
“I don’t wanna tell you what to do, but… while you figure it out, can I defend my case?” He pleaded, his waist bumping into yours, his finger under your chin. He was being brave, he was finally taking his chance. 
As soon as you nodded, and your lips parted, your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips, a neediness that became clear as you realised what was about to happen, Steve got closer. Close enough to breathe the same air as you, his mouth a whisper away from yours, enjoying that tension that had formulated in the air. He was enjoying that bit of power, feeling how bad you wanted him. You were the one to finally close the distance, and he was ecstatic about it. He took his time, his lips moving gracefully against yours, your hands tugging the back of his neck, one of his was lost in the space between your neck and your jawline, applying a pressure that made you moan against his lips, thought maybe that was due to the way his other hand was grabbing your waist, his fingers would leave a mark, that much was clear. 
As soon as you break off the kiss, the lovesick smile on both of your faces was evident. 
“That was…” He muttered, left speechless by your kisses, needing more of them. 
“You are a good kisser.” You slightly teased him back, recalling the rumors about him in a joyful manner. 
He kissed you a lot more after that, having to stop walking in the middle of the road as you went to find his car. 
Robin saw it, and decided it was best if she kept her mouth shut this time, but she did overhear the last thing Steve whispered to you before going back into the car. “I don’t mind sharing, you can figure out whatever you need, honey.” 
She already saw the headache coming, and really regretted that Eddie didn’t see the way your cheeks flustered at the idea of being with him for a while. 
2.9
-
-
“Babe, can you help me?” You cried out, the sun hitting you a bit too hard, you started to feel your skin burning if you weren’t careful. 
“Sure, be with you in a second.” Steve adds, gleaming at the sound of your voice calling him such a pretty nickname. Him and Robin were a bit busy, stacking the small cooler with every kind of beer and seltzer they could name, topping it with ice so it would stay cold during the hot summer’s day. The first of many to come. 
The pool had been officially opened, and with that, the usual invasion of the Harrington household started. This year however, Steve decided to throw a little party, so it wouldn’t be a surprise gathering at his house. 
Robin still hadn’t said anything about what she heard at prom, and she intended to keep it that way, she was having fun watching, as you struggled to operate. 
Steve came over, sitting behind you, a little kiss on your shoulder letting you know he was all yours for now. You passed him the sunscreen, it smelt like coconut and vanilla, as he spread it on your back and shoulders, he took the opportunity to be a bit more handsy than he needed to. He started massaging your back, knowing the effect it had on you, as he heard the stifled groan on the back of your throat, quiet enough that he’d be the only one to hear it. Once he reached the lower part of your back, he spent way too much time in it, tracing patterns that had no meaning besides getting your body closer, and closer to his crotch, moving you a bit so you’d feel the way it grew against your butt cheeks. You looked back at him, over your shoulder, to see him smiling, that stupid smile that let you know just how much he wanted you, now and everyday. You shook your head, laying on his chest with enough mischievousness to let your cheeks hold his bulge between them, you felt him breathe out in a needy manner, right against your cheek. He gave you a kiss on your lips, his hand now caressing your stomach, fully visible thanks to the white bikini you chose to wear. 
“Not while we have company, Harrington.” You whispered into his ear once his lips parted from yours. He groaned, deciding to just hold you tightly, his head buried where your neck met your shoulder, leaving wet kisses in that spot he knew you liked. 
“I told you… I don’t mind sharing.” He recalled the conversation you had about your curly haired friend he knew you had a crush on, even if you evidently liked him. 
“Shush.” You dismissed him, holding his face near yours, a kiss left on his lips, as you bit his lower one. “Let’s just stay here until the others come?” You pleaded, not wanting to think about it, not really ready to think about Eddie coming here right now. 
He answered with another kiss against your sun kissed skin, decidedly staying like this. Enjoying each other’s presence, soft touches and caresses. 
The last few weeks with Steve had been amazing, but Eddie had grown cold as soon as he heard that you seemingly had made your choice, even if you were far from it. 
Steve's words didn’t help. 
In your mind, Steve seemed excited with the idea of you making out, or whatever it was with his friend, as long as you kept doing it with him. It was a dangling temptation, a dream, a forbidden fruit that had all of a sudden become edible. 
You weren’t sure how much time had passed, you just knew Steve’s fingers were too busy tracing little drawings on your lower stomach, dangerously close to the edge of the thong that was part of your two piece. When all of a sudden your eyes opened from the noise that was coming out of the house. Eddie had arrived, accompanied by Nancy and Jonathan. The couple came out first. 
“Hey lovebugs!” Nancy screamed, her usual upbeat tone making Steve open his eyes, he waved back, you did the same movement, which made her chuckle. 
Eddie followed them closely, even in such warm weather, he still had his blue jeans on, only this time his white tank top let his arms out on the sun, you got lost in him for just a second. 
Eddie avoided your stare, got lost in your body instead. Robin clocked the way he swallowed, his muscles in his neck tensing as he tried not to look too much. It was hard, since he knew he could be the one holding you as near as he desired. 
Jonathan grabbed two beers, and offered one to Eddie, he felt compassion for him, just like Robin, he was used to being observant, and had known about Eddie’s feelings for a while, and he had been in the same situation, only he had a bit more luck. 
The moment came where you decided to finally jump into the water, all of your friends deciding they wanted to stay dry, watching you as you floated in the pool. 
You were pretty good at knowing who was staring, even if they had the same coloured eyes, Eddie’s and Steve’s staring felt different. Eddie’s was full of regret, he had wanted to talk to you ever since you left the dance, Steve’s was full of hunger -at least while you looked like that, skin wet, and your hair framing your face in a way he’d call heavenly if asked.- though if you were honest, you felt a trace of desire in Eddie’s eyes everytime yours met. 
Robin had enough of that show, and even if she promised to herself she wouldn’t say anything, she needed to talk to someone, so she did. 
“Nance, can you help me get some wine?” She asked, a lift of the eyebrow and she understood she needed to speak to her. 
“Sure.” She added before following her into the house. 
Eddie and Jonathan stayed there, grinding some weed for later. Steve looked at them, and stood up, walking to the edge of the pool, sitting on it, waiting for you to come. 
Robin started rumbling as soon as they reached the kitchen. 
“I need to tell you something, but you can’t say anything. But if I don’t tell it to someone I’m gonna lose my mind” She was talking in a fast-paced manner that let Nancy know just how much she had been needing to talk. 
“Jesus okay. Breathe.” She said, pushing her shoulders down. “Now, shoot.” 
“I overhead the new couple at the prom.” She started, waiting for a nod from Nancy so she could continue. “Steve told her that he knows about Eddie’s feelings, and that he’s okay sharing? What does that even mean? Has he ever said something like that to you? Do you think… Maybe Steve wants to…?” 
Nancy’s eyes opened wide, at the amount of information and preceding questions she asked, her head working overtime to keep up with her friend. 
“He’s okay sharing as in…” 
“I think he wants her to make a move or something, so she can know for sure she wants to be with him but that’s just…” She didn’t dare to finish the sentence, not without implying something she’d hate for people to imply about herself. 
“Steve really has changed.” Nancy over enunciated, raising her eyebrows as she looked over for the wine. Robin erupted in laughter. 
“What do you think I should do?” She implored now, stepping in closer to her, grabbing some glasses for the white wine. 
“You? Nothing. I’m sure Eddie’ll catch on soon enough.” She pointed out, as she started to head out. “He’s practically drooling everytime she looks at her.” She joked as Robin chuckled, following her closely. 
At the same time, Jonathan looked at Eddie, and how concentrated he was on grinding the weed so he could smoke it. He knew Eddie was feeling a bit overwhelmed, and he knew how much it could help, so he stayed put, waiting for him to finish. 
“Look dude, I don’t really know you that much but uh… You’ve got something in your mind.. If you need to uh.. talk it out…” He offered, feeling incredibly embarrassed by that leap he was making, knowing Eddie had the right to blow him off. 
He didn’t. He looked up, nodding with a half smile as he mouthed a thanks. He looked over at Steve walking closer to you and the sense of urgency came back. 
“Pass me the paper, please?” He babbled, as his hand reached out. Grabbing it and starting to roll what would -hopefully- calm him down. “I just… I fucked it up.” He added, nodding at you, and the way you smiled as soon as you saw Steve. 
“Why’d you say that?” 
“She told me if she was supposed to wait for me forever, next thing I know, she’s kissing Steve.” He sputtered, a trace of hurt could still be felt on his voice. Jonathan gave him a reassuring touch on his shoulder. 
“That’s Steve… Though to be fair… You shouldn’t lose hope.” He recomforted him, looking at Nancy as she came back, a smile on his face. 
Talking of Steve he found his way to you. His legs on the water, moving it slightly, the waves hitting your body. You looked over at him, a smile wide on his face. 
You swam closer to him, instead of laying against the granite that circled the pool, you let your arms rest on his thigh, looking up at him with dreamy eyes. 
“Hi.” You beamed at him, the softness of your tone made him get even more lost into you. 
“Hi.” He echoed, one of his hands cupping your cheek, you gave in to the touch. “You should get out, Nancy went to get your favourite wine.”  You smiled deeply at him, he really did care for you. 
“Going.” You whisper as you find your way to the stairs, pushing your head down one last time, so the hair wouldn’t annoy you. 
Eddie caught that. And the way you walked out of the pool was enough for his cock to push against his zipper. He crossed his legs, enjoying the show a bit more, as he lit the joint he had been preparing. He got a bit lost, especially on the way your hair not only framed your face, but your breasts, that seemed to shine as water dropped out of them. It didn’t help that you were wearing white, he was going to lose his mind. 
Only this time, Steve caught him, a cheeky grin appearing on his face as he made eye contact with Eddie, who became flustered. Steve just nodded, and mouthed its fine. Eddie had never been more confused. 
“We’ve got your wine!” Robin cheered, as she raised a glass to you. You took a good sip of it, the lightness of it invading your mouth, a smile left on your lips. 
“Cheers.” You added, taking another taste. “I’ll just go change really quick.”You excused yourself, bending down a bit so you could put your drink down. It was torture for Eddie, who was trying extremely hard not to be too evident, but right now he just felt you were starting to tease him, bending over when that little fabric was covering you. 
Maybe you were. 
It was intoxicating, knowing that you did have that power over both of them. While Eddie was a bit too lost in your behind, Steve got lost in your chest, even if he was more taken aback with the eye contact you liked to keep. You walked slowly back into the house, up the stairs to the left where Steve’s room was. You grabbed one of his oversized white shirts, and a pair of faded, soft, basketball shorts that were too short on him, yet perfect for you. You found your way to the downstairs bathroom, knowing that you could hang your bikini there until it dries off, and that no one would really know -or care- if you were wearing underwear or not. 
You left the door ajar, it would only take a moment. 
The top part was changed in a swift movement, so was the down one. 
You looked at yourself in the mirror, your hair becoming a tangled mess, it would only get worse if you didn’t brush it off soon. You looked for one, something, anything, unsuccessfully. 
The door opened all of a sudden. Eddie was there, an apologetic look on his face. 
“Sorry, thought nobody was here.” He pleaded, as he started to close the wooden door. 
“It’s fine, I’m just looking for a hairbrush, then I’ll leave.” You tried to explain to him, not really wanting him to leave, fully aware that those were the first words you’ve exchanged. 
“You won’t reach it.” Eddie mumbled, walking back in. He closed the door, and opened the cabinet that was higher up, grabbing a little box that had various different combs on it. He grabbed the one that was better for your hair and looked at you. “D’you want me to…?” He gestured with his hands, up and down, a brushing motion. 
You nodded, your back now facing him, as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Eddie looked back at you, your eyes meeting on the reflective surface. He pursed his lips, the high made everything feel ten times more intense. It was intoxicating enough being near you, getting to be this close to you made it hard for him to concentrate. 
You kept looking at him, and every move he made, the tension that was getting created in that little space growing larger and larger. A sense of electricity, of magnetism pulling you in closer, close enough that your waist touched his. He breathed out loudly, knowing this was getting a bit too much. But the small tugging in his pants only made your lip quiver with more confidence, he wanted this just as much as you did. You got on your tip-toes for a moment, just to go slowly down, your butt graceing his crotch slowly. You could see the way his eyes shut down for that moment, how his mouth opened, how his hands grabbed your hair and the brush harder, trying not to say anything. It was intoxicating. He finished brushing your hair, and he let the comb hit the floor. You made eye contact through the mirror once again, as he breathed in that loud manner again, shaking his head at you, struggling to let something out of his lips. 
“Dove… I…” He tried, your hands already on the back of his neck, pushing him in against you, you needed to feel him, as near as you could. 
“I do like you.” You confessed in between whispers, your fingers tugging his hair. “I just… I’m confused.” You admitted, your hips had started a little pattern, grinding against his crotch. A needines was beating on your chest, traveling all the way down to where you made contact with him. 
“Fuck…” And with that you knew what was coming. 
Eddie let out a moan out of hornyness and anger. He had wanted you for so long, he would be an idiot if he didn’t at least give you a kiss. 
Just one kiss, he told himself. 
His hands grabbed your waist tightly, turning you so you’d finally look at his eyes, not at a mirror, the brown of them almost gone, a hunger you were experiencing just as much as he was. Even if he was dying for more, he started kissing your cheek, a trembling hand grabbing your butt, messaging it, your leg lifting on instinct, pushing his crotch with yours, the feeling of the zipper messing with you, the soft fabric not protecting you much. He kept kissing your neck, and the little zone behind your ear, leaving soft moans every time his mouth left your skin. Once you were drunk on him, he cupped your face with one hand, the other still holding your butt firmly, and finally let your lips touch. You became one in that moment, your waist still moving, your hands scratching his back in an attempt to obtain more. You needed to drink every single drop of him. His hand started teasing at your behind, a smile when he noticed the lack of underwear, and just how sensitive you were. If he pushed the short upwards, the fabric touched you in a way that made you whimper. 
It wasn’t fair, you also deserved to play. 
Your hands left his back, travelled to his crotch, undoing the belt in a swift movement. The sound of the belt buckle made him snap back. 
That was more than one kiss. 
“We can’t…” He said, pulling strength from somewhere, he wasn’t sure where. 
“Steve doesn’t mind.” You tried to make him understand, unsuccessfully. 
“If I was him, I would want you all to myself.” 
-
The sun was setting, Nancy was half asleep into Jonathan’s arms, Robin was a bit too inebriated, laughing at every small detail she saw. 
It wasn’t difficult. 
When you came out of the bathroom, a flustered Eddie followed you minutes after. Steve looked at you with a puzzled look, and you just nodded. 
Now you were sitting between them both. 
Jonathan looked at Steve’s grip on your thigh, while your pinky was grabbing Eddie’s. He opened his eyes as soon as he understood. He gave Eddie a quick look, he just nodded in quiet disbelief. 
“I think we should go.” Jonathan said in a soft-spoken voice, brushing Nancy’s hair. 
“I’m way too wasted to drive.” Eddie muttered in response, a cheap excuse everyone noticed. He wasn’t ready to leave. 
Jonathan offered his hand, Eddie’s van keys fell onto his palm. 
“Okay then, we’ll go.” He stood up, helping Nancy up, gesturing to Robin to follow him. She looked back at the three of you, she struggled to hide a chuckle. 
“Fine… au revouir!” She teased as soon as she looked at you, your cheeks getting that pinkish tone to them again. You hid your face behind your palm, begging she was the only one out of them that understood the stupid joke. The shocked giggle out of Steve’s lips let you know he got it too. 
“I’ll walk with you to the door.” Steve added, off-handedly. As soon as he stood up and took a couple of steps, he looked at you over his shoulder, the prettiest smile on his face. 
It was a do whatever you need, a i want you to do it, a please do it. 
The type of look that drove you insane. 
Eddie lit up another spliff, standing up, your eyes looking up at him, all doe-like. If only you could read his mind, he thought. 
“I think I’ll go for a swim.” You were unsure if it was an invitation, or if he just needed some space, a moment to think it all well. 
Truth be told, Eddie was curious about what you’d do now, once he took his shirt off, careful not to burn anything, smoke still coming out of his mouth, a delightful picture you would keep in your mind for a long time. 
You hadn’t seen him shirtless. 
It was a sight to see, you thought. You knew he had muscles, you didn’t know his were somehow more defined than Steve’s. His chest was pale, decorated with ink, your fingers suddenly tingling the urge to trace over them, especially the one he had near his hip bone. 
Eddie enjoyed seeing you like that, for once you were the one thirsting over his body, your mouth half opened, having trouble taking your eyes off his chest, while yours all of a sudden raised faster. Your breathing quickening. 
His back was also well defined, framed by his hair swinging a bit with every step he took, his curls bouncing in an hypnotizing manner. 
He sat down on the steps of the swimming pool, his waist submerged in the water. He smiled as soon as he heard your cautious steps approaching him. You sat near him, your body not in the water, only your legs, looking at his side profile. You could draw him from memory alone, you realised. He didn’t say anything, he just looked at you, his usual grin that always made you smile back. He offered the joint to you, you shook your head, a drink still in your hand. 
“We’re swimming?” Steve proposed at the sight of you two, already taking his shirt off. 
Before any of you could answer, he had already jumped into the water, swimming back in the middle of you, taking the offer of the spliff Eddie had in between his fingers with a shrug. 
“I’m not wearing uh…” Your eyes darted nervously at Eddie, and the memory of his fingers discovering it just a few minutes ago. He did the same, his hand twitching as he made eye contact with you. 
“I’m sure Eddie won’t care.” He assured, his tone dropping a bit. The husky tone hypnotising you. Steve looked at the curly headed boy waiting for a response. He just scratched his chin, looking back at you, his eyelids half closed. “See, he doesn’t.” He gestured back at him, getting a bit closer to you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to” He whispered, needing you to know he meant it, the softness of his words made you know he was telling the truth. 
As soon as you felt Steve’s hand on your thigh, and how good the water droplets falling from them felt on your skin, you opened your legs, letting him gain access, his hands finding the hem of your shorts rapidly, pulling them down softly. 
Eddie was hypnotised by it. The way your legs looked, the look of devotion you had for Steve, how confident you seemed, the shy soft smile in your face as you were enjoying his touch against your skin as the shorts became a faint memory. He looked attentive as Steve’s hands reached the end of your shirt, how his lips kissed your knee, eyes closed, how a soft moan escaped your lips. He felt himself grow, no longer restricted by his jeans. The spliff long forgotten by your side, his full attention in how more parts of you were revealed, as Steve slowly took your shirt off. The first thing he saw was the curvature of your back, your stomach following it closely. When he saw your breasts under the sunset, he realised he had never been as hard. You shook your head as soon as the shirt was off, your hair flowing freely. Your hand caressing Steve’s face, inching closer to him, leaving a sound kiss on his lips. He was trying to repress the urge he had of touching himself, it felt like he was looking at a private show, just for him. 
Steve helped you into the water, his hands holding tightly onto your waist, pulling you in slowly. Enjoying the sound you made as water hitted your full body. He had only eyes for you. His nose touched yours, asking for permission to kiss you once again, his bare chest hitting yours, you were the one who broke the distance, pushing into him with the usual care. Steve’s lips were soft, fitted with yours perfectly, you thought. 
Eddie couldn’t take it anymore. He had to touch himself. It was pathetic, he thought, you were making out in front of him, and he needed to touch himself, feeling like if he didn’t take it out, it would just start to hurt, so he did. He grabbed the waistband of his swimsuit down, already stroking his dick in a slow movement, when all of a sudden, you made eye contact with him, while you were still kissing Steve. You broke the kiss, yet Steve kept kissing your neck, one of his hands already on the small of your back, pushing your entrance to his erection. You moaned at the sight of him, and Eddie’s movements deepened. 
“You wanna kiss her?” Steve asked as soon as he opened his eyes, seeing the way Eddie looked at you, his cock still out. “Come.” He invited him, with a quick shake of his head. “She really wants you to do so, Munson.” That did it for him, that and the fact that you moaned as soon as you heard his last name, though maybe that had more to do with the way Steve’s fingers were teasing you now. 
He didn’t really waste that much time, he took off his swimsuit before coming into the water, not caring about anything else but the way your eyes looked at him, needing him. You felt his dick on your stomach, the hardness of it coming into contact with you thanks to the short distance. Eddie’s hands didn’t shake now, he was decided. They held your face, coping your cheeks in the way he had hoped to do so for so long, breaking the distance, as your lips found each other. Your tongues touching, finally, both of you thought, as your hands reached for his body, as did his. 
Steve was still enjoying himself, touching you, feeling how you squirm under his touch, your legs shaking a bit as he kept teasing, your clit missing him everytime he messed around. 
Eddie couldn’t stop kissing you, he was enjoying it maybe a bit much. He had never tasted something better, and he never wanted to. He wished in between kisses to remember this sensation forever, your hands on his body, fingers buried deep into his skin, begging for more as you moaned into his mouth. 
Your hands were dangerously low, but it didn’t matter. 
A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you felt Steve’s fingers reaching inside you, moving them slowly, each movement deeper than the last. 
“Please.” You begged, looking up at Steve, his hand reaching for your neck, leaving a thigh squeez before he kissed your cheek. “Please.” You whimpered again, looking outside the pool. 
Eddie understood, and followed closely. Steve pushed your body up, you were now sitting on the stone that circled the pool, your body slowly hitted the ground, legs hanging from the edge, grabbing Eddie’s hand so you’d have him near, your hand started messing with his pelvic bone, a few brushes, caresses and he was already doing that loud breathing that proved to drive you insane. 
Steve didn’t waste no time, grabbing the back of your legs, pushing your body closer to the edge, leaving kisses on your knee, then your upper thigh, the inside of it, everywhere his lips had access to, while his hand got a bit busy feeling you, and the wetness of your entrance. 
Eddie brushed your hair behind your ear, before diving in for a kiss, his lips touching yours, just so he could have an excuse to start kissing your neck, hearing you make such pretty noises that close to his ear was something he never thought he would be able to. To be fair, he moaned as soon as your hand wrapped around his dick, starting the slow movement, he smiled in between kisses as you kept it going. 
The combination of it all; Eddie moaning your name that close to your ear, your whole body filled with goosebumps, as Steve started kissing your clit, it made you arch your back. 
“You’re sensitive today.” Steve teased, as his lips went back to the spot that was driving you mad, one of his fingers starting to make his way inside you, you felt him smile as he heard you moan at that. 
“Jesus sweetheart…” Eddie breathed out, a groan escaping the back of his throat, his voice was the lowest you had ever heard. “If you keep touching me like that, making those sounds…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. 
He saw the way you smiled proudly at the praise, your teeth biting your lower lip, while you breathed heavily, he had to kiss you again, that way he knew you’d be moaning into eachothers’ mouths.
Once Steve had three fingers inside you, his movements finding the perfect pace, his mouth all over you, legs shaking while his head was in between he could tell you were close, Eddie’s hands stroking your body helping in that. Speaking of, he looked at him, he could also tell he was trying not to come, not yet. He stopped eating you out, his head resting on your tight. 
“You wanna…?” He asked you first, nodding to him. He could tell you did, just by the way your eyes shined as soon as he asked, he had to hide a giggle once he looked at Eddie who was concentrating on something else. 
“Edds” You begged, moaning his name. It made him tilt his head backwards a bit, your hand still tightly wrapped around his dick. “Can you fuck me?” He had to bite the inside of his lips so he wouldn't come right then. His hands grabbing your legs, turning your body to him, so your entrance would be at his level was enough confirmation. Before Eddie started, while he was admiring you in all your glory, you looked deep into Steve’s eyes, your hand finally dropping his swimsuit, stroking him. A hunger in your eyes before you asked “Can I?” 
He nodded. 
Then he looked around, knowing that it would be more comfortable for you if you were on the couch. 
“Inside.” He groaned, looking at you first, then turning to Eddie. 
Before you knew it, Eddie was sitting on the couch, too much in a hurry to care if it became a bit wet, his hands got lost in your waist, kissing the zone between your belly button and your cunt, your skin reacting to every touch, pulling you in softly, slowly. While Steve was next to you, his hand still touching your clit, getting you warmed up for Eddie, as your hand curved around his cock, stroking it. 
You noticed, while Eddie was longer, Steve was wider. Both of them large, though Eddie’s curved a bit, you knew that would be something you’d like, and you were eager to prove it to yourself. 
Your free hand touched Eddie’s chin, making him look up at you, his gaze into yours, lowering as you sat on top of him. 
You both moaned as he entered you, you made your way down slowly, fully wrapping around him, a sensation you were sure you could never forget. His hand grabbing your waist, guiding you gracefully. You left a quick kiss on his lips, before turning to find Steve. 
He waited for you to guide him, he knew just how overstimulating everything must be, as much as he wished for you to do something right now, he waited, patiently, stroking his own erection as he looked at you, and the way you bounced on top of Eddie’s cock. 
You pulled him in, his knees on the couch, his body sitting where the head usually rests, his hand petting your hair, you didn’t waste that much time, filling your mouth with him. 
“Honey…” He blurted, having trouble articulating words. “You’re taking both of us so well.” He praised, as he started to pull your hair, your head following the movements, effectively mouthfucking you at the pace he wished, a series of profanities falling from his mouth. 
“You really are.” Eddie added, his hands pulling you in deeper, your eyes closing out of pure pleasure, as his cock pushed into you, a rhythm you felt right in your stomach. 
Eddie couldn’t help himself, he started with just a thigh squeeze, just to end up slapping your ass, the sound of the clapping only turning you on faster. Eddie was so close, his arms wrapped around you, in complete devotion. You took a second, continuing to work on Steve with your hand to kiss Eddie, Steve’s precum still on your throat, but he didn’t care. He needed you there, his forehead against yours, his mouth moaning and half screaming your name. 
“I’m not gonna last long.” He said, drunk on you from head to toe. 
“I want you…” You started, having to gather some air before continuing, you could feel his dick ripping you deeper every time he reentered, his hand pushing you deeper into him every time you did. “To come, please, Eddie, please.” You ended begging in a whimper, that did it for him. 
You kissed him, before your head fell into his shoulder, biting him as you felt the way his muscles flexed around you, his head falling backwards.
“Shit” Eddie groaned as soon as he felt himself come, deep on you, looking deep in your eyes, a smile evident in them. Steve didn’t even think about it before doing it, once he made eye contact with him, his lips were on his, a soft kiss that needed to happen. Eddie’s hands still on the small of your back, Steve’s on the back of your neck. 
“Hot.” You whispered, making you all three laugh, breaking the soft tension that was in the air. 
You got off, Eddie groaned as he felt you leave, he didn’t want you to ever leave his side. You looked back at Steve, he knew what you wanted, no words needed. He nodded, before kissing you again, his hands pulling you a bit closer to him, before turning you over. 
Your stomach laid on the couch cushions, your ass high as he could get it, a sight he loved if he was honest, only this time your head rested on Eddie’s lap, while he brushed your head, Eddie’s brown eyes looking up at Steve, another sight to be seen he thought. He took a moment to take it in, before his hands grabbed your waist, helping them find his way inside you, a moan of pure delight as you felt him. You bite Eddie’s thigh, careful not to moan too loud. 
The sight of Steve fucking you, you trying desperately not to scream as he moved slowly, filling you up wider that he had, the small kisses and bites you were leaving on his skin were enough for him to get hard again, and you took that opportunity gladly, your tongue on the tip of his dick, licking tentatively, as you heard him groan at the feeling of you playing with him, his hands on his head, already overstimulated. Steve took that as what it was, and he went in harder, and harder, and harder. 
“That’s it, you’re doing so good baby.” He moaned, his fingers turning white as he held you, no doubt leaving a mark on your body. 
“Shit…” Eddie moaned again, as your lips opened wider, swallowing him deeper and deeper. “You’re… fuck you’re amazing.” He struggled to say as he whimpered, the praise only making you go in ways he never imagined. 
Steve felt how your walls were closing, a clear indication you were getting exactly where he wanted you to be, his nails digging in your skin, in the kind of way he knew drove you insane, your back arched even more, letting him get deeper than he ever had. 
“Eddie” Steve said, looking at him, his eyes were half gone once he looked back. “Touch her, she’s close.” 
You confirmed as much, whining while your mouth was still filled with Eddie’s cock, your left hand stroking him at the same pace as Steve was fucking you. 
As soon as you felt Eddie’s fingers on your clit, the coldness of the rings only making you enjoy it even more, you knew you weren’t gonna last long. Eddie felt it too, you were struggling to concentrate on sucking him off, so he pulled himself out of your mouth, kissing you instead. 
“I rather hear you, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear.
“Keep doing that, please.” You begged at both of them. 
They did, somehow with the same rhythm, Eddie’s hand knew exactly how to touch you, while the other one was touching himself. Steve kept fucking you, the sound of your body hitting his was magic, you thought. Symphonies could be written with the way it all sounded, Eddie praising you, guiding you through it, Steve’s groaning your name as he pushed in and out, and you being as loud as you wanted to. 
It didn’t take long before Steve felt it, your legs thigting, the sharp intake of your breathing, your hand closing in a fist. 
“You can come, honey.” He groaned, as he too felt himself not being able to hold it for much longer. 
“Please.” Eddie added, as he too wasn’t gonna last that much more. 
You did, your back arched as you felt Steve hit you for a couple more times before the warmness filled you up, leaving every inch of your skin he could find covered with kisses. Eddie came, the cum falling in his stomach and hand. 
“Jesus…” Eddie muttered, as he let his body fully relax. 
“Yeah…” Steve added, pulling out of you, pulling you in for a hug as soon as his body hitted the couch. 
You melted into his arms, nudging Eddie to come closer. He did with a half smile, you enjoyed Steve’s caressing of your skin whilst your fingers got lost into Eddie’s hair. 
“Robin’s gonna kill me when I tell her…” Eddie muttered, before realising that he wasn’t sure if you were going to tell people about it. 
“What will you tell her?” Steve asked, as if he could read his thoughts. Not in an inquisitive tone, more of a curious one. 
“Tell her you went to Paris.” You half joked, a giggle escaping your lips. “She already knows, I’m sure.” You let the two confused men know. 
“Does she?” Steve’s curiosity piked, you nodded, leaving a kiss on his chest.
“She said I should visit it right before the dance.” You let them know. 
“Well, thanks Robin.” Eddie laughed, intertwining your fingers with yours. 
“Are you staying over?” Steve asked at Eddie, you could sense a bit of hopefulness in his tone. 
“If you let me.” 
“We should go to bed then, comfier.” Steve added, the biggest smile on his face. “Maybe we’ll do this again.” He finished with a kiss on the top of your head.
437 notes · View notes
emjayewrites · 3 days
Text
All For Us (Lewis Hamilton SMAU)
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SUMMARY: Lewis Hamilton secretly dates an older woman with a daughter and the public slowly starts connecting the dots. [smau w/narrative]
PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x influencer!OC Bree King (faceclaim is Sasha Exeter)
WARNINGS: verbal/emotional abuse from an ex, drama, age gap romance (Bree is 2 years older than Lewis), formula one b.s., pre-established relationship, step-daddy Lewis. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!
TAGLIST: @cocobutterqwueen @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @pausmoon @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @blveeeeeee @sugardontbesweet @omgsuperstarg @bluesole16 @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @royallyprincesslilly @jasmindaughteroftheworld @motheroffae @hrlzy @xoscar03
A/N: Read the warnings!! This oneshot may be triggering!! Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore
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Lewis grinned as Bree's face appeared on his FaceTime screen. "There she is! My favorite lady."
"I should hope that's still the case," Bree teased with a wink before turning her head. "Sloane, baby, come say hi to Lewis!"
A moment later, Bree's eight-year-old daughter popped into view, her face lighting up with excitement. "Lewis! Hi!!"
"Hey there, Sloane!" Lewis' smile widened. "Having fun at camp?"
The little girl nodded vigorously. "It's so cool! We went canoeing yesterday and I caught the biggest frog ever!"
"No way, that's amazing!" Lewis played along. "You'll have to show me next time I see you. Which is actually why I FaceTimed..." He glanced at Bree, who gave him an encouraging nod before he proceeded. "I was wondering if you and your mom are still planning to come to my race in Montreal next week?" he asked Sloane. "It'll be my last chance to see you before you go back to school."
"YES!!" Sloane pumped her fist in the air emphatically. "We're definitely coming! I can't wait!"
Bree chuckled fondly and ruffled her daughter's hair. As her eyes met Lewis again over the video call, her expression was full of meaning.
Though keeping their relationship under wraps wasn't easy, moments like this made it worth it to Lewis. Having this slice of domestic bliss, however ephemeral, grounded him in a way he never could have imagined before meeting Bree and her daughter. It was a small price to pay for the unexpected joy of finally finding someone who knew the real him - flaws and all.
Their relationship was still so new, barely six months old, but he felt more at peace with Bree than he could have imagined. Bree understood the punishing demands his career brought in a way no one else could. With her own entrepreneurial spirit and drive, she never asked him to compromise his ambition. If anything, she helped stoke it.
Yes, the secrecy could be tedious at times. But Lewis didn't mind. After a lifetime in the spotlight, he relished having this one thing that was just for him and Bree. At least for now.
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Race day arrived and Bree made her way through the hustle and bustle of the Montreal Grand Prix paddock. Despite Sloane's excitement in the lead-up, her father had pulled one of his typical selfish moves at the last minute by insisting on taking her to the zoo that day instead.
Bree felt that familiar pang of disappointment mixed with resignation. Her ex had been more of a sperm donor than an actual parent to their daughter from the day Sloane was born. He only seemed to appear when it was convenient for him, not Sloane.
Pushing those negative thoughts aside, Bree focused on the thrill of being here to support Lewis. As an influencer, she had initially been given paddock access through her partnership with Peroni, but over the last few months, as her relationship with Lewis intensified, racing had become personal.
"You must be Bree!" She spun around at the greeting to see a tall, stocky man striding towards her, hand outstretched. Spinz stood around six-foot-three and was built like a linebacker, with a lightly tanned skin tone. His smile was kind and friendly as he enthusiastically shook her hand. "I'm Daniel, but you can call me Spinz."
"It's so great to finally meet you! Lewis has told me loads about you," Bree mentioned happily.
"Likewise," Spinz replied genuinely. "I've heard so many stories, it's nice to finally put a face to the name."
Lewis and she had been intentionally slow about intermingling friends and family. They didn't want to rush things before they were both exclusive and comfortable, yet now that Sloane had grown so fond of Lewis, it felt right to begin that integration.
"Can't believe my man is finally bringing his girlfriend around the paddock!" Spinz continued, laughing delightedly. "Bout time, if you ask me." This emitted a chuckle from Bree. "Well, since you're finally here, allow me to give you the grand tour," Spinz offered, gesturing for her to follow him. "Lewis is still doing his pre-race routine, but I can show you around until he's free."
Bree nodded eagerly, falling into step beside the towering Spinz as he led them through the controlled chaos of the paddock. He pointed out the various team garages, the hospitality suites, and regaled her with funny behind-the-scenes stories from past races.
Despite the unfamiliar environment, Bree instantly felt at ease with Spinz's warm presence and easy banter. She could understand why he and Lewis had been mates for so long. There was an affable authenticity to him that put her instantly at ease.
"And this...is the sacred ground," Spinz proclaimed dramatically as they walked inside the Mercedes garage. "Though I suppose for you, it's more like hallowed ground at this point, eh?" He elbowed her teasingly.
Bree laughed, shoving him back playfully. "That's one way to put it, I suppose. I have to admit, seeing this side of his life up close is still taking some getting used to."
Before Spinz could respond, a familiar voice spoke out. "Hi, baby."
Bree shifted her gaze to see Lewis walking over to them, clad in his racing suit. His eyes crinkled behind his sunglasses as he pulled her into an embrace. She melted into his arms, inhaling his familiar warm scent.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, gorgeous. Pre-race craziness, you know how it is," Lewis murmured, lowering his voice. "But I'm all yours now."
He leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips. Even with the smile on his face, Bree could sense that something seemed a bit off with him.
"How are you?" Bree asked gently.
Lewis let out an exasperated sigh. "Comme ci, comme ça." He made a wavering 'so-so' gesture with his hand to emphasize his point.
Bree's expression was knowing. "Ah, I see." With a slow blink, she decided not to pry further for now.
"Let's not worry about that now, okay?" Lewis gave her a lopsided grin, clearly wanting to change the subject. "Everything good with you? How was the tour with Spinz?"
"Great, Spinz was awesome. Thank you again for the tour," Bree replied, smiling at Lewis' friend.
Spinz waved it off. "No problem at all. I'll leave you two to it. Lew, I'll catch up with you later?"
"Of course, man." Lewis pulled Spinz in for one of their signature dap-up handshake hugs before his friend departed.
"Now that that's out of the way..." Lewis trailed off, snaking his arms around Bree's waist and pulling her close. "I can finally kiss you like I've been wanting to."
"Oh, so it's like that, Sir Hamilton?" Bree teased, removing his sunglasses to gaze into his warm brown eyes. "There, that's better. I can actually see those pretty eyes of yours now."
Lewis batted his lashes exaggeratedly. "You like what you see, huh? I could get used to all this flattery."
With that, he leaned in and captured her lips in a lingering, tender kiss, the troubles of the earlier melting away as he lost himself in her being.
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Bree paced near the gate, phone pressed to her ear as she listened to her ex-husband's latest tirade.
"You're really going to let some race car driver try to one-up me as a father figure for Sloane? Come on, Bree. This guy is just a fling - he'll get bored of playing house eventually and leave you high and dry."
She bristled at his condescending tone, upset rising in her chest. Before she could snap back, her gaze landed on Sloane sitting nearby. The little girl was utterly engrossed, flipping through a "Formula One for Kids" book in preparation for their time at Silverstone.
The sight of her daughter's pure, unbridled excitement instantly calmed Bree's anger. She took a steadying breath before responding.
"You know what, you're right - you shouldn't be threatened because unlike you, Lewis actually shows up for Sloane," she stated evenly. "He's been more of a parent to her in six months than you have her whole life."
There was an indignant sputtering on the other end, but Bree kept talking before he could interject.
"Don't project your guilt about being an absentee dad onto my relationship. This isn't about you. It's about giving our daughter some stability and male role model who wants to be present."
The overhead speaker crackled to life, an announcement requesting they begin boarding their flight to Paris. Bree knew she needed to hang up now if they wanted to make it.
"I'm done wasting my time on this. We're boarding now. Maybe next time you can join us instead of just criticizing from the sidelines." She ended the call with a tap before he could respond.
Turning to Sloane, Bree plastered on a brilliant smile, letting the contentment of this new chapter wash over her.
"You ready for our adventure, baby girl?"
Sloane beamed up at her mother, curls bouncing as she nodded enthusiastically. "So ready! This is gonna be the best vacation ever!"
As they joined the line to board, hand-in-hand, Bree felt a swell of gratitude. Her daughter deserved all the happiness in the world - and she'd do whatever it took to provide it, with or without Sloane's father.
-------------------------------------------------
"No, no, you've got the lyrics all wrong!" Sloane collapsed in a fit of giggles as Lewis dramatically belted out his very off-key rendition of "We Don't Talk About Bruno" from Encanto, which was playing on the TV.
"What are you talking about? This is exactly how it goes!" Lewis protested, bopping around their hotel suite and encouraging Sloane to sing and dance along with him.
Bree watched the scene unfold with a content smile, sipping her coffee as her boyfriend and daughter's musical silliness filled the room. It had been a long but utterly joyful day exploring the magic of Paris together.
As the next song from the movie came on, Lewis grabbed Sloane's hands and started twirling her around in an impromptu dance number. Sloane squealed with laughter, trying her best to follow his goofy choreography.
Bree watched the scene unfold with a content smile, sipping her coffee as her boyfriend and daughter's musical silliness filled the room. It had been a long but utterly joyful day exploring the magic of Paris together.
Despite having to attend a couple of fashion shows, Lewis insisted on making the most of their time together. He had kicked things off with a surprise shopping trip that morning to Dior, allowing Bree and Sloane to play dress-up before walking away with an entirely new boutique-worthy wardrobe.
From there, it was on to take in the splendor of Parisian culture and sights. They strolled along the Champs-Élysées, stopping to snack on crispy crepes and macarons. Lewis delighted in teaching Sloane a few French phrases, though she quickly realized he was cheekily mispronouncing things.
As evening fell, Lewis whisked them away to a breathtaking circus show at Cirque Phénix. Sloane's eyes were saucers the entire time as she watched the daring acrobats and exotic animals perform. When it was over, she kept asking "How did they DO that?!" in awed tones.
Finally, they capped the night off with a decadent multi-course dinner at an acclaimed family-owned bistro. Even Sloane was lured into trying cuisine well beyond her usual mac-and-cheese comfort zone.
Now, lounging in their luxury hotel after baths, it was the perfect way to wind down after a memory-making day. Lewis intentionally kept the mood light and fun, perhaps sensing Bree needed a break from any lingering emotional fallout after her ex's cruel words.
Lewis and Sloane collapsed in a giggling heap on the suite's plush rug, exhausted but elated. Pressing kisses to Sloane's flushed cheeks, Lewis grinned contentedly.
"Best day ever, right team?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
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As the Silverstone Grand Prix weekend approached, Lewis became adamant that Bree and Sloane finally meet his family. They would all be in attendance on Sunday to cheer him on at his beloved home race.
"It's time," he stated firmly one night as they relaxed together in bed. "You two are the most important people in my life now. I want my family to really know you both."
Bree felt a flutter of nerves, knowing this was a big step. In all his years as a global celebrity, Lewis had only ever brought one other woman home to meet his parents and siblings - his ex-girlfriend from years ago. There hadn't been anyone serious enough since then to warrant those introductions, until Bree came along.
Saturday night arrived, and Bree smoothed her hands down the summer dress she had carefully selected. She caught a glimpse of her anxious expression in the mirror and exhaled slowly.
Get it together, she scolded herself.
So what if she was a few years older than Lewis, and a single mom at that? His family seemed warm and supportive based on what little she knew. Surely they wouldn't judge her too harshly, right?
The sudden image of them dismissing her as some gold-digging cougar flashed through Bree's mind before she could stop it. She shook her head firmly. Those were her own insecurities talking, not reality.
"You ready, gorgeous?" Lewis' voice pulled her from her reverie. He stood in the doorway, Sloane's little hand clasped securely in his own.
Bree managed a tremulous smile and nodded. "As I'll ever be. Let's do this."
They made their way to the private dining room at Dishoon's, where Lewis' family awaited. The moment they entered, multiple pairs of eyes widened almost comically at the picture before them - Lewis holding Sloane's hand while his other arm wrapped protectively around Bree's waist.
Bree felt her cheeks warm as the hushed murmurs started. Lewis simply grinned, surveying the room with an almost smug satisfaction.
"Everyone, I'd like you to meet the two leading ladies in my life..." he began by way of introduction. "This is Bree and Sloane."
What followed was a cheerful commotion of hugs, back slaps and well-wishes as Lewis deftly made the rounds. To Bree's relief, his family seemed just as warm and gregarious as he had described.
If anything, they seemed impressed by her vibrant spirit and career accomplishments. Lewis' father in particular was delighted to discover Bree's Caribbean heritage, insisting they were practically "family already."
At one point, Lewis was gently pulled aside by his mother, Carmen. Concern furrowed the older woman's brow as she studied her son intently.
"So...what do you think of her, Mum?" Lewis asked almost shyly.
Carmen's expression softened as she glanced over at where Bree and Nicola were giggling together. "I think...I haven't seen you look this happy and fully yourself in a long time, sweetie."
She reached up to cup Lewis' cheek, her eyes shining with emotion. "That girl clearly adores you. And you've already taken her little one into your heart as well."
Lewis' smile was beatific as he covered his mother's hand with his own. "She's the one, Mum. I'm going to marry her someday."
Carmen arched an eyebrow, though her tone remained gentle. "Are you ready for that? To be a father to that little girl, and take on all those responsibilities?"
Lewis didn't hesitate. "More than ready," he stated with conviction. "Bree and Sloane...they're my world now. I can't imagine my life without them in it."
Pulling his mother into a firm embrace, Lewis felt his heart swell almost to bursting. For so many years, this kind of profound contentment had eluded him despite all his success. But somehow, fate had brought these two incredible ladies into his life. And he would spend every day showing them how indescribably grateful he was.
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As they prepared for their upcoming trip to Grenada, articles started appearing in The Sun and The Daily Mail hinting that Lewis was dating Bree. Twitter was going crazy, with Lewis' massive fandom mostly showing support, especially after photos and videos surfaced of him with Sloane at the Silverstone race weekend. Sloane had been put 'in charge' of caring for Lewis' beloved English bulldog, Roscoe, and both she and the dog were practically attached to Lewis' hip the entire time.
Meanwhile, Sloane's father was up in arms once more about the apparent relationship. Bree's phone rang with the sperm donor himself on the other line.
"How dare you let that race car driver get so close to my child!" he yelled. "He thinks he can just swoop in and play dad now?"
"I mean someone has to do it," Bree muttered under her breath.
"I'm going to sue for full custody if you keep letting that man around my daughter!" Sloane's father shouted over the phone. "You're just a useless whore letting any man walk all over you!"
It was at that moment that Lewis came walking into the kitchen, having just finished playing in the backyard with Sloane. He immediately sensed the tension on Bree's face.
"Give me the phone," Lewis said firmly, holding his hand out.
Bree shook her head, not wanting to subject him to her ex's vitriol. But then the man's voice came through again.
Lewis' jaw clenched and he commanded again, "The phone, Bree. Now."
Reluctantly, she passed it over, her eyes apologetic. Lewis gave her a reassuring nod before putting the phone to his ear. "Who the fuck do you think you are, speaking to her like that?" he said sternly.
"Who do YOU think you are?" the man retorted. "You have no right getting cozy with my kid!"
Lewis' expression hardened. "I care deeply about both Bree and Sloane," he stated firmly. "And I'll be damned if I let you disrespect them like this."
"You think you can just insert yourself into my daughter's life?" Sloane's father sneered. "Playing father figure and getting handsy with her mother? Over my dead fuckin' body."
She opened her mouth to let loose a blistering retort, but Lewis squeezed her shoulder lightly.
"Listen here, mate," Lewis' voice was low but resonant with conviction. "I love that little girl as if she were my own flesh and blood. Sloane is everything to me, to us. And I'll be damned if you try to keep us apart with your selfishness and toxic presence."
Bree's breath caught at the fierce protectiveness in Lewis' words. She covered his hand with her own, lending him her strength.
On the other end, Sloane's father sputtered indignantly before finding his voice again. "You arrogant prick! You can't just—"
"That's enough." Lewis's words sliced through the man's tirade like a whip. "Your disrespect ends now. And if you continue speaking to Bree this way, you'll never see Sloane again."
There was a pause on the other end. "Is that a threat?" Sloane's father spat.
"No," Lewis said coldly. "It's a promise." He disconnected the call and turned his full attention to Bree, wrapping his arms around her firmly. "How long has he been talking to you like that, love?"
Bree let out a shaky breath, leaning into his embrace. "Not long...just when we started getting serious."
Lewis scoffed, rolling his eyes at her ex's audacity. The man had been absent for most of Sloane's life, and now that another man was stepping up, he wanted to play father?
"Next time he does that, record it," Lewis instructed. "Take it to your lawyers. I don't want that piece of shit thinking he can verbally abuse you however he pleases. He's going to fuck around and end up in a ditch somewhere if he keeps going down this road."
Bree searched his eyes intently. "You would...kill for me? For us?"
"Yes." Lewis met her gaze unflinchingly. "I'd do anything for you and Sloane. Anything at all."
The fierceness in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She knew, without a doubt, that he meant every word.
-------------------------------------------------
Bree sighed contentedly as she gazed out at the pristine Grenadian beach. So much had happened so quickly - meeting Lewis' friends and family, being accepted into their fold almost instantly alongside Sloane, yet it all felt so natural, like the missing pieces finally clicking into place.
Her eyes shielded from the brilliant sun, she watched as Lewis chased the waves with Sloane, both of them shrieking with laughter. He looked utterly gorgeous with his toned, tattooed physique glistening with saltwater, the picture-perfect image of a doting father. The idea of giving Sloane a sibling, with Lewis as the dad, sounded unexpectedly appealing. Though she had a few eggs frozen, she wondered if pregnancy at her age would be difficult, but as scary as that thought was, she couldn't fathom being with anyone else. Their seven month relationship felt more profound than any bond she'd ever known.
Down the beach, Lewis was helping Sloane construct an elaborate sandcastle, patting the wet sand into turrets.
"Lewis?" Sloane piped up suddenly.
"Yes, princess?"
"Do you love my mom?"
He smiled warmly. "Yes, I do. Very much. And I love you too."
Sloane beamed, delighted by his answer. "Will you marry my mom then? My parents were married but then they got divorced."
Lewis' heart melted at her hopeful expression. "You want me to make an honest woman out of your mum?"
She nodded vigorously. "I just want her to be happy."
"I promise I'll do everything I can to make you both happy," he vowed. "But would it be okay with you, if I married your mum?"
"Duh!" Sloane rolled her eyes dramatically. "I already think of you as my bonus dad."
Lewis felt his throat tighten with emotion at Sloane's words. This amazing little girl and her mother had utterly stolen his heart.
Gently, he pulled Sloane into a hug, resting his chin atop her head. "You know I love you like you're my own daughter, right? You and your mum are everything to me."
Sloane nodded against his chest. "I know. That's why you should marry her." She pulled back to look up at him with those big, innocent eyes. "Will you be my dad for real then?"
"Of course, princess," Lewis murmured, brushing the sandy hair from her face. "If your mum will have me, I'd be honored to be your dad in every way that matters."
Sloane grinned, throwing her little arms around his neck excitedly. Down the beach, Bree watched the tender scene with a wistful smile. She could clearly see the love between Lewis and her daughter - it was undeniable.
As if he could sense her eyes on him, Lewis glanced over and raised a hand in a beckoning wave. Bree rose fluidly to her feet and made her way over, sandals dangling from one hand.
"Everything okay over here?" she asked lightly as she approached.
Lewis stood, pulling Bree flush against his side with his free arm. "More than okay," he replied, dropping a kiss on her salty hair. "We're building a sandcastle estate and could use the extra hands, right Sloane?" Sloane was too busy packing buckets full of wet sand into elaborate castle molds to answer and Lewis shrugged. "Alrighty then, let's get to work."
As they worked together under the warm sun, Bree couldn't help but feel grateful for these moments of simple joy with the little family she created.
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The Las Vegas Grand Prix was in full swing, and Lewis was basking in the excitement of being publicly "Instagram official" with Bree. He had Bree by his side, and he was so happy to be able to publicly show off their relationship.
It wasn't that he cared what anyone else thought - Lewis had never been one to seek approval or validation from others. But having Bree by his side made everything feel more real, more solid. She was his rock, his anchor in this wild world of racing. These last few months, although crazy at times, were the best memories to experience with Bree.
And she looked stunning as always. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back in soft waves and her fitted red dress hugged her curves in all the right places. She was by Lewis' side through all the glitzy festivities and parties surrounding the race weekend, including the launch of his Almave pop-up bar. With Sloane spending the weekend with Bree's mother, it was a kid-free getaway, and he intended to take full advantage.
He knew Bree's ex-husband would be fuming seeing pictures of them together online, but Lewis didn't give two flying fucks about him anymore. He was focused solely on Bree and the profound happiness she brought him. Bree's arm was looped through his as they made their way through the crowded VIP party for the race sponsors. He greeted familiar faces with warmth and charm, introducing her to everyone he knew.
"You're a natural at this," Lewis remarked as they headed towards the bar for some much-needed drinks.
Bree laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. "Please, I'm just winging it."
He shook his head in mock disapproval as they approached the bar. "Don't sell yourself short," he said seriously before turning to order their drinks.
_____________________________________
After dinner one evening at their hotel's high-end restaurant, fans swarmed Lewis for autographs as they exited. "You're a lucky man," one told him, eyeing Bree appreciatively. "She's gorgeous."
Lewis' arm tightened around her waist. "I know," he said simply, pride warming his tone.
Back in their suite, they came together in a heated clash of lips and roving hands, shedding clothes as they stumbled towards the bedroom. Bree reveled in the hard planes of Lewis' body, tracing the lines of his tattoos as he worshipped her with his mouth.
He lifted her up effortlessly and carried her to bed, laying her down gently before joining on top of her, settling between her legs. Their bodies fit together perfectly like puzzle pieces as they moved together in a rhythm that felt almost too familiar now.
Every time they made love was like a brand new experience for them both. They never grew tired of exploring each other's bodies or finding new ways to pleasure one another.
In between stolen kisses and whispered declarations of love, they lost themselves completely in each other until they reached that explosive climax. Afterwards, they lay sated and tangled in the plush hotel linens. Bree traced idle patterns across Lewis' chest as he tucked her against his side.
"Have you thought about getting married again?" he asked quietly.
Bree's head whipped up in surprise. "Here? In Vegas?"
Lewis chuckled, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "No, love. No offense to others, but I could never get married here. I meant...in a year or two, maybe. With me."
Her breath caught at the meaningful weight behind his words. "I...actually think about that a lot," she admitted shyly. "I can see us having a future together."
Warmth bloomed in Lewis' eyes. "You can?"
Bree nodded, feeling herself get swept up in the thrilling certainty of what she felt for this man. "Yes. A real future - marriage, forever."
Lewis looked utterly overjoyed as he cupped her face tenderly. "Okay then...future Lady Hamilton."
A startled laugh bubbled up from Bree's lips. "Lady Hamilton? Is that what I'll be since you're Sir Lewis?"
"Precisely." His grin was terribly smug. "Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
"It sounds like some character from Bridgerton!" she giggled, swatting his chest playfully.
Lewis joined in her mirth, nodding wholeheartedly in agreement. "I can see the resemblance."
Bree's laughter slowly faded as she gazed at the man she loved with every fiber of her being.
Her future husband - it had a deliciously appealing ring to it.
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The End.....or is it?
220 notes · View notes
say-al0e · 20 hours
Text
Hypothetical
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Rating: PG-13
Summary: Eddie asks a lot of hypothetical questions, just to hear your answer. The answer to this question was more real than you wanted to admit. Warnings: Tiny bit of self-doubt, idiots to lovers. Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader (think it could be read as GN but just to be safe) Word Count: 2.7k
“Would you fuck my clone?”
The question, asked as casually as if he were inquiring about the weather - though, to his defense, he’d asked weirder - rose above the sound of chainsaws emanating from the television and earned a confused frown as you spared him a sideways glance.
Eddie’s attention remained mostly on Leatherface, chasing unsuspecting victims, but you caught his curious glance as you laughed. Those were the first words spoken in over an hour, certainly a record for your verbose best friend, and you couldn’t help but ask, “What the fuck, Eddie?”
“What?” From his position at the end of the couch, feet propped on the coffee table and head lolled onto the cushions, he shrugged. “It’s a simple question. Would you fuck my clone?”
A beat of silence passed, in which you realized this was one of those moments where Eddie wouldn’t let the question go until he was given a satisfying answer, and you sighed. “I don’t think that’s the question, Eds,” you countered. “Isn’t it usually, ‘would you fuck your own clone’?”
With a dismissive wave of his hand and a scoff, Eddie finally sat up and turned his full attention to you, screaming teenagers and chainsaws forgotten now that he had something better to capture his attention. “That one’s boring,” he reasoned. “We know all the arguments. This is a different question, new arguments.”
“I think we’re fine without arguing,” you teased, reaching for the nearly half-empty bowl of popcorn. “Just watch the movie, Eddie.”
From the corner of your eye, you watched as a look you couldn’t quite recognize flickered across Eddie’s face. However, just as quickly as it appeared, it was covered with a raised brow and a teasing grin. “We’ve seen it a hundred times already. Anyway, what I’m getting from this is, you would fuck my clone. Interesting.”
Eddie did little to hide his amusement as you rolled your eyes and tossed a piece of popcorn at him. “I didn’t say that,” you argued, despite yourself - despite knowing that you were walking into a conversation you weren’t yet sure you wanted any part of.
A hum, unconvinced, met your ears as he reached for the bowl and plucked it from your hands. “Okay,” he prompted, ignoring your outraged huff. “So, tell me. Would you?”
There were a handful of ways you could respond to his probing. The first, shut down his question with a point blank refusal, phrased as a light-hearted joke that did little damage to his ego and even less to your already fragile nerves. The second, play into his game and debate the pros and cons of sleeping with his clone, the ethical ramifications, the conversation he clearly wanted. Or, the third, admit to him a fact that you’d concealed since the summer of 1984.
Any way you could have him, real Eddie or clone, you would take it.
That was, solidly, not in the lead. So, you opted for the second approach.
“Jeez, Eds,” you sighed, stealing popcorn from the bowl now resting on his lap. “I don’t know. Maybe,” you conceded. “Depends, I guess. Is he, like, total you or some weird, kinda fucked up clone? Like, is he totally evil or incapable of coherent thought or, I don’t, off somehow?” As an afterthought, you joked, “More so than the real you, anyway.”
“Rude.” There was no bite in the declaration, only a fond amusement that made your chest ache, but you did your best to ignore it as he hummed. “Clone’s a totally normal, complete carbon copy. Everything about him is exactly the same, down to the last hair.”
“So, no aspirations to rule the world or become, like, the next Leatherface?”
Eddie grinned. “That’s my backup plan, you know, if music doesn’t work. So, guess it’d be his, too,” he admitted, only breaking into laughter when you grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “Seriously,” he relented, “nothing weird. Just another me. Everything you know and love, times two.”
With a sigh, you lifted your legs onto the couch and hugged your knees to your chest. “Then… I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely audible over the screams still echoing from the television. “Maybe?”
“It’s a yes or no question, babe,” he reminded you, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he studied you. “Shouldn’t be this hard.”
That look, the one that you had difficulty placing, returned and despite your uncertainty as to what it was, you were certain that you didn’t like it very much. Doubt, or maybe hurt, were the closest emotions you could identify though neither made much sense to you in the moment.
Still, rather than ask, you rolled your eyes. “What’s the point of this conversation?”
There was none, it was just for fun - a debate, like the thousands of others you’d had over the course of your friendship - and Eddie said a much as he shrugged. “Isn’t one,” he declared, offering you the last handful of popcorn. “I just want to know if you’d fuck my clone.”
When you refused, he returned the bowl back to the coffee table before reaching for your ankle. With a gentle tug, he encouraged you to rest your feet on his lap as his fingers began to tap a beat that only existed inside his head against your skin. “Why does it matter?”
Eddie shrugged once more, though this time, he glanced at the television rather than you as he answered. “Because I asked and you always answer.”
“I do,” you relented, sighing as you also spared the screen a glance. “Well, what’s the right answer, then? There has to be one.”
This time, he shook his head as the tapping of his fingers grew a touch faster. “Right answer’s the true one.”
For a moment, you simply studied Eddie. His side profile, bathed in the warm glow of the television, was the picture of concentration as he watched a scene you’d seen a thousand times before. Only, you knew him well enough to see the telltale signs that he was in no way paying as close of attention as he should’ve been.
The slightest tick in his jaw, the quick bite of the inside of his cheek, the delayed blinking; all signs that he was waiting more intently for your answer than he wanted you to believe.
Rejection - no matter how hypothetical - never seemed possible when it came to Eddie. So, you sighed and conceded, “Okay, fine. Sure, I’d fuck your clone.”
Eddie hummed, seemingly unsurprised and feigning nonchalance as he nodded as if the answer confirmed something he already suspected. And there were a thousand ways in which you expected him to respond; none of which could’ve compared to him declaring, “So, you’d fuck my clone but not me.”
Again, rejection was not an option. However, you had no intention of admitting to him that you’d wanted him for years. There was no world in which you could see yourself admitting to him that you thought he was beautiful - with his doe eyes and playful grin. Telling him how you felt would likely end in an awkward silence at best and a ruined friendship at worst.
So, you opted for a careful denial. “What? I didn’t say that.”
“But you’re not saying anything to the contrary,” he countered, turning his head to spare you a cursory glance. There was something there, beneath the amused glimmer in his eyes, that unnerved you - something far more serious than you were expecting - but as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.
When you shot him an unimpressed glance, cutting your eyes at him before returning your attention to the television, he shrugged, teasing grin never faltering. “I never said that. I answered a hypothetical and you’re reading into it.”
Eddie met your perhaps too sharp denial with a raised brow as he gave up the guise of watching the movie. “So, am I wrong?”
“Would you stop putting words into my mouth?” You huffed as you reached for the bowl of popcorn, desperate for something to distract yourself from making a confession you knew you would regret. “I never said that. All I said was that I’d fuck your clone, I answered the question.”
“Okay, fine. You never said you wouldn’t fuck me but it’s never happened. Never even sort of, almost, maybe happened,” he reminded you - as if you needed it. “So, you would fuck my clone but not me. Why?”
“Because we’re friends, Eddie,” you shot back, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “I’ve known you since I was ten.” 
The excuse sounded weak in your own ears, but it was all you could muster without breaking down and confessing that you would, in fact, sleep with him. If only he’d ask. If only it wouldn’t destroy your friendship. If only it was that simple.
Still, Eddie was relentless. “But my clone would have all my memories, totally the same person,” he reminded you. “He’d be your friend, just like me. But you’d fuck him. So, why not me?”
“This is stupid,” you huffed. “Why do you care?” He’d never pushed so hard, not in pursuit of a hypothetical question meant to pass the time, and you were genuinely curious why he seemed so interested in your answer, or your lack thereof.
“I’m a naturally curious person,” he argued, shrugging as he squeezed your ankle. “It’s just a stupid hypothetical. C’mon, why would you hypothetically fuck my clone but not me?”
There was little doubt in your mind that he would continue pushing until he got the answer he was looking for, especially as it seemed that he’d already made up his mind that he was right, so you shifted yourself in a huff. With your legs now hugged to your chest, eyes on the television to avoid meeting his gaze as you admitted in a snap, “God, okay. I’d fuck your clone because it’s the closest I’d get to being with you without actually destroying our entire relationship. Happy with that answer?”
“What?” Eddie sounded genuinely surprised and you could feel the warmth of his gaze burning into your skin as you purposely kept your gaze on the television.
“If your clone is you, all your memories, your mannerisms, your looks, I’d fuck your clone because then I’d get to see what it’s like to be with you,” you admitted, words escaping despite every fiber of your being telling you to be quiet. “I’d get everything without the risk of losing you when I fuck it all up.”
Eddie shifted closer then, careful to keep a few inches of space between you but no longer nestled into the opposite edge of the couch as he tipped his head to get a better glimpse of your face. “What do you mean, when you fuck it up?”
Frustrated tears - at admitting a secret you swore would follow you to the grave, at allowing him to get under your skin when he was simply asking an innocent question, at allowing yourself to get so worked up over something so simple - stung at the backs of your eyes as you huffed. “I’m… you know me, Eddie. I don’t,” you sighed, cutting yourself off, before taking a deep breath. “I’m prickly. I don’t do well with romance. I freak out and run,” you reminded him. “Even if you felt the same, if we worked out enough to not have our friendship go down in flames, there’s still a chance I’d fuck it up and I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to run from you.”
“Hey.” Eddie shifted even closer, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, and sighed when you refused to glance at him. Regardless, he exclaimed, “That’s why we’d be different.”
“What?” Of all the things you expected him to say, that was the last. With furrowed brows and tears still lining your lashes, you tipped your head to glance at him. “Why?”
“Because,” he began, meeting your eyes for the first time in what felt like hours, “when you try to run, I know what you’re doing. When you get all weird or try to push me away, I know it’s not really you wanting me to go. I know you. I get you, just like you get me.”
“Eddie.”
Of all the ways you’d expected him to react, of all the ways you expected him to acknowledge your feelings for him, returning them was not on the list. For years, you’d convinced yourself that there was no way he would return your feelings, there was no way you would ever be able to acknowledge those feelings without losing your best friend, and there was still a deep-rooted fear that, despite his seeming certainty that his understanding would make a difference, any attempt at a relationship would only end in heartbreak.
That didn’t seem to matter to him as he pressed on. “I’m serious. It’s us,” he continued, this time reaching out to press a hand to your knee. “It’s always been us, always will be us. There’s nothing you can do to get rid of me. Not now.”
“You can’t know that,” you sighed, though it was nowhere near as confident as you hoped it would be. “We can’t see the future.”
“We can’t,” he agreed. “Not yet, anyway, but the nineties seem promising.” When you rolled your eyes, barely suppressing a smile, he laughed. “But that’s the fun part. We do our best to make our own future. It’s always going to be together, might as well come clean and really be together instead of making ourselves miserable pretending.” Before you could respond, offer another half-hearted refusal, he pressed on. “What do we have to lose?”
“Everything.”
Eddie shook his head, completely unconvinced that anything bad would come of allowing yourselves to try. “I don’t believe that. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We always do.”
“How can you be so certain?” You wished you had an ounce of Eddie’s certainty, his true belief that the pair of you could make it, but you were skeptical. Neither of you had much luck in life, neither of you had much outside of one another, and losing him would be far too great.
However, you were tired of pretending that a shared future was not what you wanted. 
The possibility that your future could go up in flames, that you could destroy the best friendship you’d ever had, worried you. It kept you awake at night. But now knowing that Eddie felt the same, that he wanted the same future you did, there was no way you could turn him down.
For all your fear, for all your hesitance, saying no was not an option.
“Because we’ve been in love for years and nothing bad has happened yet.” He said it as if it was the most obvious answer he could give, as if it made all the sense in the world, and if you really stopped to think about it, it did.
“Can you promise me something?”
Eddie shifted ever closer, nodding easily as you reached for his hand. “Anything.”
“Can you promise me that no matter what happens, we’ll always be friends? Even if we don’t work out, if something happens, promise me that we’ll still be there for each other.”
“I promise. Nothing hypothetical about that,” he agreed, corner of his mouth lifting when you offered a soft smile.
The moment stretched around you, nothing existed outside of the pair of you as Eddie tugged you into his side. It was easy, natural, and you melted into his touch despite the fear lingering in the back of your mind.
There was a brief worry that this could be a mistake. That allowing yourselves to intertwine your futures so thoroughly would only end in heartbreak, but he was right. For as long as you could remember, it had been you and Eddie. There was nothing that had managed to wedge you apart yet. And pretending had no guarantee of working in the long term.
So, you decided to dive in to the deep end and allow yourself to truly fall. There was no situation, real or hypothetical, in which he would allow you to hit the ground.
No matter what, you knew that he would be there to catch you. 
________________________________________________________
Author's Note: I spent my entire day in meetings. All the meetings. So many meetings. I also have a dentist appointment on Wednesday and I am Terrified. So have this.
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229 notes · View notes
cc--2224 · 2 days
Text
I'll Show You Heaven
Pairing: Crosshair x F!Reader
Summary: Crosshair was always someone of interest to you, much to the other clones’ dismay. When he hears a Reg disrespecting you, he doesn’t hesitate to step in. You were told that there was no point trying to fix him, but you knew you could handle dangerous; although it turned out that to you, he wasn’t dangerous at all.
Warnings: This is very much 18+ Minors do not interact! Alcohol and smoking mentions; drunk clones being assholes including one putting the reader in a dangerous/uncomfortable situation but nothing happens! Smut - masturbation, Crosshair having dirty thoughts, oral (m and f receiving), biting/marking, unprotected p in v - wrap it before you tap it!!, praise kink, one instance of Cross being too rough but he corrects it, porn with feelings, language, tons of compliments/pet names, jealous maybe slightly protective Crosshair
Notes: Very slightly based on the song I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
Word Count: ~6.4k
Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!
Masterlist
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It was just another day. The haze of smoke lingering in the bar, the loud laughter and chatter amongst the patrons, and him. 
You had gotten to know most of the regulars at 79s, including Clone Force 99, but you never made it a point to become their friend. The clones, usually drunk, would flirt with you endlessly, but never the 99s. They kept to themselves, and you had learned over the months that they weren't very popular with the others.
You hadn't considered there were social hierarchies among the clones, but you supposed they were no different than any other group of people.
You traced the smoke back to the tall, silver-haired man. He sat at one of the tall tables, not quite facing the bar, but enough that you could see his sharp features silhouetted by the pulsing lights. 
He never looked pleased to be there, he seemed to have a permanent scowl, and you couldn't even recall a time where he said more than three words at a time, and none of them kind. 
And while these might be negative traits to most, but to you, these traits mixed with his deep brown eyes that you had caught on you once or twice, and the smirk that came along with it, the expression of an all-too-confident man, only helped to draw you in to him. 
You had a feeling that he was one to put up a front, wall himself in so that he didn't appear vulnerable. it made sense for a soldier, but there was a part of you that wanted to see what he was like when the walls came down.
"Hey! Cyar'ika!" You heard from behind you, you turned to face the clone holding his glass up to you. "You gonna give me a top up or stare at the reject squad all night?"
You rolled your eyes and turned to him too quickly to see the sharp glare of the man you were just staring at point at the rowdy clone. After refilling his glass, you set it down in front of him and gave him a warning, "Everyone is welcome in my bar, and everyone gets attended to while they're here. Understood, trooper?" 
Before he could answer, you walked toward the centre of the bar, making a point to keep an eye on all your patrons so they wouldn't also get the wrong idea about who was getting more attention. Your eyes naturally wandered back to where the 99s were sitting, briefly meeting with the same brown eyes you had been silently admiring just moments ago, the tattooed crosshairs outlining one of them perfectly. 
He turned his head back toward the rest of his squad but you could almost see him glance at you through the corner of his eyes at least once before you were called away again. 
"Y'know what?" The loud clone called out again, "I think you should just come home with me. I could make you forget all about them." He jerked his head toward the 99s. 
"And I think you've had too much to drink." You chided, ignoring his request for another top up.
"C'mon," He groaned. "If you're gonna cut me off, you should at least make it up to me. Wanna come home with a real man? I bet those 99s could never measure up to us if you get my meaning. Whattaya say, copikla?
Several clones laughed at his words, your Mando'a wasn't perfect, but based on their laughs, you assumed it wasn't nice. 
Before you could get security to kick him out, you heard a chair scrape against the floor and then the crack of knuckles on flesh. You didn't even see the tall clone cross the bar before he was laying into the loud one.
You ran out from behind the bar and tried to pull him back, as much as you didn't want to, you also didn't want him to be permanently banned either. 
Once he noticed you pulling his arm back, he stopped. 
"What's going on?" One of the security guards had come over, hearing the commotion.
"Nothing," you said before gesturing to the floor, "He had too much to drink. Best if he goes home."
The security looked at you carefully, making sure you were okay before helping the clone to his feet and walking him out of the bar.
You sighed and returned back to where you were standing before, watching the other clones glare but cautiously move out of the way of the 99.
He started walking back to his table before pausing and turning to look at you, his features almost seeming softer now. 
"You didn't have to cover for me." He said, a toothpick lodged between his lips.
You shrugged, "He was getting on my nerves, deserved the punch if you ask me. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay." You smiled up at him. 
You could handle yourself, you've been working at 79s for a while, you knew how unruly people could get when alcohol was involved, and as much as you could handle people yelling at you, you didn't like when your regulars hurled insults at groups who were just minding their own business. Especially when, to your understanding, they got enough of that back on their homeworld.
He hummed in response.
"Can I get you guys anything?" You asked after a brief silence had fallen.
"No, we're heading out. See you around." Almost on cue, the rest of his crew stood up and began to leave.
— — —
“You shouldn't have done that.” Hunter warned him quietly when they had returned to the Marauder.
Crosshair shoved past him to get into the ship.
“Regs will always take each other's side, if you get reported for starting a fight…”
“Again,” Tech chimed in.
“I'll deal with it if it happens. Regs are probably too drunk to remember anyway.” 
“Why'd you attack him, anyway?” Wrecker asked. 
His eyebrows furrowed, “Didn't you hear him? He was treating her like his little pet.”
The others looked at each other, seemingly sharing the same thought between them.
Hunter's voice didn't betray his thoughts, “Even still, you should go back and apologize. Probably scared the poor girl.”
Crosshair rolled his eyes at Hunter's order. 
“No promises.”
He went to his bunk and discarded his armour, laying on his bunk in his blacks. He couldn't seem to get your face out of his head. The way your eyes met, how you took his side even though his squad was right, he did start the fight. Your smile when you made sure that he was okay.
This wasn't the first time he had seen you, but it was the first time the two of you had ever spoken; he didn't do small talk, Hunter and Wrecker did.
But he wanted to talk to you again, he wanted to see you again, see you smiling up at him. 
The more you crept into his thoughts, the more he couldn't get you to leave. 
Eventually with the solitude of his bunk, his thoughts got the better of him. He imagined how you would look, naked and squirming under him. How you'd taste, how you'd feel around him. 
He couldn't shoo these thoughts away, he found himself palming his cock over his blacks at the thought of you taking it into your mouth. 
He had been with others before, but it was rare for him to feel like this. Usually when he’s with someone it’s just to get his own release, but thinking of you was different. He wanted to make you come, to hear you cry for him, to feel you come on his cock, on his fingers, whatever you’d allow. 
He wanted you, all of you. And he couldn’t stand the thought of some Reg pretending to flatter you just to get you into his bunk. You deserved better than that, you deserved someone who would treat you right, make you feel good, someone who could be good for you. Someone like him.
He reached his hand into his blacks, pulling himself out and stroking it. He let his mind continue to wander, imagining everything all over again as a loop. He thought of your voice, telling him how good he was, telling him how he was made for you, how no one else could satisfy you like him. He thought of marking your neck, your tits, your thighs. 
As he began to reach his climax, he stroked himself faster, he thought about filling you up with his release, he didn’t know where, whether it was your throat or your cunt, he just knew he wanted to come inside you. 
This thought sent him over the edge as he spilled out over his hand with a groan.
He knew it wasn't right to think this way, he didn't even know you, but he also knew there was no way for you to know what was going through his mind.
But would it be so bad if you did? 
— — —
Something about his expression when he finally came back to the bar was different than it had been a few days ago. Not bad by any means, just not how he normally looked. 
Part of it was likely due to the fact that he was in civilian clothes instead of his armour, nut most of all, his ever-present scowl seemed softer, and he didn't wear a smirk when he noticed you looking at him, instead he almost seemed nervous. 
He walked toward the bar and sat on one of the stools, scanning to make sure none of the gathering clones were the one from a few rotations ago. 
"Can I get you something?" You asked him with a smile.
He blinked like he still somehow wasn't expecting you to talk to him after what happened, but then shook his head. "No, nothing."
He sighed, looking down at the counter in front of him. "I wanted to..."
You looked at him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"My actions the other day, that wasn't okay."
Your face softened into a small smile. "Don't worry about it, nothing to apologize for."
"Did the Reg apologize to you?"
"Oh, no I haven't seen him, but like I said, nothing to apologize for. I'm used to it." You told him nonchalantly. His gaze snapped up to meet yours and his eyes narrowed.
"Used to it? Being drunk doesn't give them an excuse to be assholes to you." His voice raised slightly.
"Really, it's fine. I'm just sorry you had to hear him talk about your squad like that for so long."
He laughed quietly and used your words back at you, "We're used to it."
Neither of you said anything for a bit. You worked on pouring another glass for one of the other patrons at the bar and then turned back to face him.
"I see you guys around here often, but until the other day, you and I have never spoken, I'd like to change that.” your kind smile at him caused his heart to pound in his chest, but when he didn't answer, you continued. “You have a name, trooper?" 
"Crosshair." 
You smirked then told him yours. 
"Where's the rest of your squad today?"
"They stayed back, wanted me to make sure you were okay. But since you are, I should be going."
He was out of the stool and heading toward the door before you could convince him to stay. He needed to clear his head, it wasn't like him to feel so reserved and shy, but he felt your presence hammering on the walls he had built for himself and he didn't know if he was ready for them to come down.
You watched him as he left and smiled to yourself. Was he really concerned about your opinion of him so much that he came all the way here just to apologize? Or maybe he just wanted to make sure the other trooper kept his distance. Either way, seeing him was always a treat, and now you had a name to go with his face.
"I'd be careful of him." One of the clones said, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"What do you mean?"
"Clone Force 99 isn't known for following rules. They have the highest success rate out of any squad, but the way they complete their missions goes against most protocols we have. That one, Crosshair, he's their sniper, a dangerous one at that, and definitely not a friendly sort of person, someone you don't want to get on the bad side of. Not someone you can just fix with that pretty smile of yours." 
You listened to him as he warned you, but even still, Crosshair and his squad intrigued you. You wanted to get to know them better.
Crosshair had caught your eye from the moment you had first seen him, and now the gap between you was finally starting to close.
You wanted to be his friend, but you were also curious about being more than that. You wanted to see what he was like when the two of you were alone. Was he sweet? Was he demanding? Was he some mix of both? 
You wanted to know what his lips would feel like, what he would taste like, how he'd feel. Thoughts that sparked a flame in your core. You didn't know if you'd ever get an answer to any of them, but the world worked in mysterious ways.
— — —
Once everyone had cleared out and you got some cleaning done, it was finally time to go home. 
It was late, too late to be wandering around the understreets of Coruscant alone, but you knew the most direct way back to your apartment, and had a blaster set to stun, just in case.
You turned down the alleyway, and you saw a figure push itself off the wall and walk toward you. 
"Awful late, isn't it?" You could hear the faint accent of a clone, and the audible slurring of one that had too much to drink.
"Come on, copikla, let me walk you home."
He stumbled toward you. When he came into the light, you could see the black eye that Crosshair had given him, still purple and blue despite the days that had passed.
"I'm fine, thank you."
"Don't be like that, I wanted to apologize and do something nice for you. C'mon." He got closer to you and you felt your hand shake as you reached for your blaster.
"There's no need for that," He told you when you had the blaster fixed on him. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Then go back to your barracks, trooper."
He smirked, "Y'see the other day, your friend from the reject squad, he gave me this-" He said as he pointed to his eye. "All because I gave you a compliment, so really, you o-" 
Before he could finish his sentence you saw a blue bolt whiz past you, hitting the clone and stunning him.
You turned to see where it came from and at the other side of the alleyway, Crosshair stood with a pistol drawn.
He walked toward you, "He hasn't had a very good week." He pointed out, looking at the clone on the ground before bending down to look at his armour, looking for his identifier.
"What are you doing?" 
"Getting his ID. He'll probably be sent back to Kamino for a while for breaking protocol."
He brought his comm up to his face. "Tech, I’m sending you coordinates and a trooper ID, arrange a pickup."
"Copy." You heard the distorted voice through the comm link before Crosshair began typing in numbers.
"You seem confused." He said, looking at you now.
"I thought your squad didn't care about rules and protocol."
He smirked, "Regs have been talking about us, huh? That's true, we do our own thing and don't take orders very well but.. we wouldn't put a civ in danger in a dark alleyway, he should have known better."
"Well, thank you for helping me, but.. how did you know I'd be here?"
"I didn't. After I left the bar earlier, I went back to our ship, but there aren't many places there to think quietly so I went for a walk."
"I see. I guess it's a good thing you were here. I have a blaster for my own safety, but I froze." You looked at the gun in your hand and sighed.
"Don't worry about it, the Coruscant guard will be here before long to deal with him.”
He turned on his heels and began walking away and you watched him before looking down.
“Crosshair?” You called out before he could get too far.
He turned to look at you again but didn't say anything.
“I'm not too far but.. could you walk with me? I just…” You trailed off looking at the stunned clone at your feet.
He walked back over to you, “Of course.”
He was silent for the remainder of the walk, but he walked with you to your door.
"Would you like to come in?" You asked as you punched in the key code.
"You sure?" 
You nodded and the door hissed open, you walked in, followed by Crosshair.
He looked around your place, it was small but it was inviting.
He knew he should have just gone back to the Marauder, but part of him wanted to make sure you felt safe, and another, much more hidden part of him thought that if you had invited him in, maybe his thoughts of you hadn't been as one-sided as he thought.
"Make yourself at home." You told him.
He sat on the small sofa in the living room, his arm draped over the back, and you stared at him, remembering what the clone had said at the bar. If Crosshair really was someone to look out for, you didn't see it. You would even go as far as to say that he was being kind to you. 
"Like what you see?" He asked when he caught you staring at him, his tone slightly huskier now that he was indoors. 
You rolled your eyes, and walked over toward the couch, sitting at the opposite end from him, but turned to look at him.
"What does copikla mean? I know cyar'ika and mesh'la because I get those a lot from the regulars, but that guy was the only one to call me that."
He looked at you and frowned slightly. "It means cute, but in a way you'd say to a child or a tooka kit, not a woman. That Reg wasn't paying you a compliment when he called you that."  
"I see. And that's why you jumped him?"
"I had enough of him long before that point, but yes."
You didn't notice that as you spoke, the more distance had been closed between you and Crosshair until your knees brushed lightly.
"What if it were a compliment?" You asked.
"I guess it depends on how you reacted, if you weren't comfortable." His eyes bore into yours now. "But you seem to like the compliments from the Regs." 
You shrugged, "As I said earlier, I'm used to it." 
His hand moved toward you, gently caressing your face. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips brush against your skin and you leaned into his touch.
"Would you react the same if I complimented you?" He asked, his voice a little more than a whisper.
"You could try." You answered. “See what happens.”
His hand traveled down to rest on the side of your neck, with his thumb stroking your jawline. 
He shifted slightly closer to you, eyes half-lidded. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it with how quiet it was in the room.
Crosshair leaned over to you and looked into your eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation, and when he didn't find any, he pulled you into a kiss. It wasn't demanding, but it wasn't gentle either. You could tell that this is what he had been thinking about when he said he had to clear his mind. 
Neither of you had been sure if the other wanted this, but when your lips connected, you both figured it out.
His tongue pushed into your mouth and he swallowed the moan you gave when you tasted him.
His other hand had made its way over to you, resting on your waist. Your hands rested on his chest at first, but slowly wrapped around the back of his neck, drawing him closer.
He sat back to look at you, leaned against the arm of the couch, lips starting to swell, pupils dilated, and he smirked.
"You're beautiful." He told you. You knew he was trying to get a reaction from you, but his voice was sincere. 
You could feel yourself getting warmer, and your stomach beginning to coil with the dull ache you felt between your legs. 
You slid off the couch and gently took his hand, pulling him up with you.
He seemed confused for a moment, so you clarified.
"Figured you'd want somewhere a bit more comfortable."
His smirk returned, "Presumptuous of you."
"If I'm wrong, we can continue to sit here."
"Oh no, you’re not wrong. Lead the way, mesh'la." 
You had heard the Mando'a compliments so many times they didn't even feel like real words to you, but Crosshair saying it brought new life. 
When you didn't move, he leaned in to kiss you, but you ducked out of the way and began walking to your room.
He watched you walk away, slightly offended when you dodged his kiss, but that disappeared when he looked at your hips swaying, beckoning him to follow you. 
When you walked into your bedroom, you turned on the lamp beside your bed before sitting with your back to the pillows, watching the door for him.
He entered slowly and you finally took a good look at him. He seemed much taller in your apartment than he did at the bar. You eyed him from head to toe, feeling your core clench slightly when you noticed the raised outline of his crotch straining against his jeans.
"Come here," you said, your voice low.
He walked around to the end of your bed, crawling over you with one leg on either side of your ankles.
"Closer." You breathed. 
He moved upward, hovering parallel to your hips, eyes fixed on your core.
"Good boy,." You praised him. You didn't expect him to groan at that, but as if something ignited in him, he dipped down, kissing your stomach, then your hips, and moving down to kiss your thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, looking up at you to ask permission.
"Yes, please, Crosshair." 
He worked your jeans and panties off in one fell swoop, throwing them to a corner somewhere once they were off. You gasped when you felt his lips on your upper thigh, slowly trailing higher.
You arched your back slightly, desperate to feel him, but he smirked against your leg, biting into the soft flesh, before kissing the mark he had left. 
He moaned when he felt your fingernails scratch against his scalp, trying to guide his head when you needed him.
He left another mark on your other thigh before licking a stripe from that mark all the way to your centre.
Your back arched again, pulling his face closer to you.
"You like that, mesh'la?" His voice vibrating against you.
"Y-yes!" You threw your head back in pleasure when you felt his tongue circle your entrance before swiping up between your folds, tasting all you had to give him.
"G-good boy, keep... keep going." 
His hands found their way to your hips, holding them in place, you were certain that he was going to leave bruises on each one but you didn't care.
His lips clasped around your clit and he sucked so hard you saw stars, and then he went back to using his tongue, circling the bud slowly, trying to pull every moan from you that he could.
"Say it again." He said against your centre.
"Say what again?" You teased, knowing exactly what he wanted.
"Call me a-" He licked you up and down again, not finishing his question.
"Oh, you want me to call you a good boy?" You asked sweetly.
He rutted his hips against the bed as his tongue dove into you.
You cried out his name. The intensity of him drinking you up had begun to build and with it, you could feel yourself beginning to come undone. You were so close, you could feel your walls clench around his tongue, and he pulled it out.
You looked down at him in time to see his hand slide down from your hip, and he planted two fingers inside you, curling them against your walls.
"Go-good, you're so good, Crosshair, know just what I want." 
He groaned, grinding against the bed again before adding another finger, drawing a cry from your lips.
His thumb took over for his tongue against your clit as his long fingers worked on opening you up. He placed gentle, yet desperate kisses wherever he could, nipping at your soft flesh.
"Cro-Crosshair I- I'm so close."
He sucked another mark onto your thigh and groaned when he felt your hand tighten around his hair.
Your hips bucked as you felt yourself get closer and closer to your release.
"That's it, come all over my fingers." His voice coaxed you further, "Let me feel you."
His tongue went back to your center, working circles around you again as your walls continued to clench around him.
It didn't take much else to pull the orgasm out of you, you cried out his name as you came undone, legs twitching and hips bucking as he continued to work you through it.
He pulled his fingers out of you, and kissed your center once again before leaving a trail of kisses up toward your neck, slowly lifting your shirt as he went before it, too, was thrown into the corner of your room. He nipped and kissed the sensitive skin, leaving you another mark before kissing your jawline and lips once more.
He was perched above you, leaning on one of his elbows while he straddled your hips, his jeans doing little to hide the feeling of his stiffness pressing into you.
“How was that, beautiful?” He asked you, a smirk plastered on his face.
“Perfect,” you replied. “I think you deserve some attention now too, for being so good to me.” He bucked his hips involuntarily into you.
He brought his hand up to cup your face. His fingers still wet from your slick. He rested them against your lips before pushing them past. You moaned against his digits as he pressed them against your tongue, making you taste yourself. You circled each of his fingers with your tongue before sucking on them gently. He pressed his head into where your shoulder and neck meet as he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of your mouth, thinking of nothing else but how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.
“Do you want me to fuck you, cyar'ika?” 
“Gods, yes, but first I want to taste you.”
His cock twitched against his jeans.
“I didn't know you could read minds.” He said, his voice low.
“I can't, I just know how I want to reward my good boy.” 
Before he could say anything else, he got up from you and sat back on his heels, undoing the button on his jeans, and unzipping them just enough to relieve some of the strain. 
You sat up and crawled toward him, resting your hands on his thighs, looking up at him for any sign of discomfort before you pulled on the waistband.
“You know, it's not very fair that you're so covered and I'm not.” You told him with a mischievous glint in your eye.
“No? Well, we can fix that.” He quickly pulled his shirt off before throwing it aside, revealing his toned chest. Your hands brushed against his abdomen and he sighed. You began idly tracing the outlines of his muscles and scars, and he took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to his, kissing you gently at first then with more passion. You felt him bite your bottom lip and you moaned into his mouth. Your hands glided across his skin before finding the waistband of his jeans again.
Without breaking the kiss, he helped you to disrobe him, and when you pulled down on his briefs, he sucked in a breath, feeling his cock spring free.
You looked down at it and instinctively parted your lips slightly, feeling your pussy clench around nothing in anticipation.
“You just going to stare at it all night?” He asked you.
You shook your head, “Can't wait to taste you, to feel you fuck my mouth.” 
You saw his cock twitch at your words and you looked up at him with a smirk. “Is that what you want?”
Instead of answering, he laced his fingers through your hair, guiding you down toward him. You were bent over, using your elbows for support with your ass in the air. 
“I could get used to this view,” Crosshair said. You didn't have to look up to know he was staring at your ass, but you pulled his gaze back to the back of your head when you kissed the side of his length. His breath hitched at each gentle kiss you gave him, and you heard him try to subdue a moan when you licked a stripe along the vein at the bottom all the way to the head, cleaning up any pre-cum that had already begun to spill out. 
“F-Fuck,” He sputtered.
You peered up at him through your lashes and his grip tightened around your hair, trying his hardest to not buck his hips and force himself into your mouth.
Your tongue swirled around his head before you took it into your mouth.
He whispered your name as he guided you further down onto him, and you took him inch by inch. 
You couldn't fit him all, you felt yourself gag slightly when he got to the back of your throat, which earned another moan from him, and you wrapped one hand around whatever had been left out. 
“Gods, you're taking me so well, wanna feel you gag on me again.” 
You moaned around him as he began using your mouth. He bucked his hips into you as he brought your head further down onto him. Your throat closed around him once again and you felt tears prick in the corner of your eyes. 
You ran your tongue across the bottom of him again, bobbing your head up and down on him, swallowing around him, sucking on him, all while he was bucking his hips into you.
His thrusts started to quicken, becoming slightly more erratic, and you gave a warning tap on his leg, you couldn't take him that quickly. He understood and slowed down.
“S-Sorry, beautiful, didn't mean to hurt you, I'm just getting close..” 
You removed your hand from the base of his length and gently caressed his balls as you continued bobbing on his cock.
“Gonna make me- I'm gonna come down your throat if you- if you keep that up.” He said between pants. 
You hummed around him and kept going. You felt him begin to tighten up and you could hear quiet curses fall from his lips. 
He moaned your name as your cheeks hollowed out around him. He stilled inside your mouth, and you felt hot spurts of him hit the back of your throat. You swallowed everything he gave you before pulling off of him, a trail of saliva keeping you connected to him for a moment longer before you sat up on your knees.
He was breathing heavily and when he looked at you, you could still see his eyes full of lust. 
“Cyar'ika,” He breathed out. “You are so incredible.” 
You leaned forward to kiss him before you felt yourself fall back onto the pillows with him caging you in with his arms.
His kisses were hungry, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself and you on your tongue. 
“Want to fuck you. Want to be so good for you.” He said almost into your mouth. “Want to hear you scream my name as I come inside you.” 
His words elicited another moan from you, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue between your lips again.
His cock began pressing into your leg as you felt him getting hard again.
“Crosshair,” you said quietly. He stopped and looked at you, afraid he might have crossed a line. “Lie down.” 
He got up from on top of you and rolled onto his back as you moved to straddle his torso.
You kiss him gingerly on the lips, and then his neck. You felt his hands come up and rest on your hips.
“You gonna be good for me?” 
He nodded quickly. You kissed the tip of his nose before positioning yourself above his cock. He bucked his hips once trying to close the distance.
“Patience.” You told him before sinking down on him.
Heaven. 
That was the only word that could describe how he felt inside of you. His eyes screwed shut, your tight walls felt like they were suffocating his cock as they fluttered around him and he needed to feel more of it. You threw your head back and he tightened his grip on your hips. You sunk yourself down slowly until he had fully disappeared into you. 
Once you had adjusted to how he felt, you moved your hips against him as you leaned over him, seeking out his lips. He kissed you back with fervour as his hands slid around to your back and he bucked his hips to meet your movements.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back up with you. His face was buried in your chest when you straighted your back, and you could feel his lips press against your breasts, and then his teeth. 
You moaned at the feeling, rolling your hips into him faster. His hands glided along your skin back to your hips. He held them tightly as he lifted you off of him slightly before shoving you back down. 
“Fuck, Crosshair!” You cried, feeling him even deeper inside you. 
He groaned as your walls constricted around him again, this time when he lifted you off of him, he had nearly pulled out completely before slamming himself back in. 
You panted out quiet curses as you tightened your arms around him.
“This okay?” He asked you as he did it again.
“Yes, gods, you feel so good. Want you to fuck me harder, feels so good.” 
You didn't need to ask him twice. His hands slid up to your back as he eased you down on the bed before putting his hands on either side of your head.. He used his knee to push your leg up, opening you up more for him. 
His slammed himself all the way in again, each thrust seeming to reach further and further. Your hands fell above your head and he used the opportunity to grab both of your wrists with his hand, pinning them above you as he drove himself into you again at a brutal pace, relishing in the way your tits bounced with each of his thrusts. 
“Gods Crosshair, being such a good boy for me,” you panted.
His lips landed on your neck, kissing you then biting you, leaving another mark on the soft skin.
“You're marking me up so well.” You said as he gave you another love bite just above the last one.
“Gotta make sure everyone knows that you're mine, make sure that trooper knows who you belong to.”
You arched your back with a moan, just as he thrusted into you. With his relentless pace, you knew you wouldn't last much longer, his words were only sending you further over the edge.
“Getting so close, Crosshair,” you said between thrusts. 
He answered by bringing his free hand down to rub circles around your clit.
“Come on my cock, wanna feel you come, wanna hear you scream for me.”
The coil tightened again, he felt your walls squeezing him and his breath hitched.
“I'm gonna come with you, angel,” He told you. “Tell me where you want me.”
“Inside, I want to feel you fill me up.” 
His grip on your wrists tightened as his pace with his other hand quickened, pulling moans from you with each thrust.
“Pl-please, I'm so cl- so close,” you whined, getting more desperate for your release.
He knew that he couldn't keep going for much longer as his thrusts became more erratic, but he was determined to wait for you.
Your moans grew louder and you clamped around his cock more with each thrust. The build up was getting to be too much, until eventually the knot in your stomach came undone, you screamed his name as your orgasm finally crashed over you. 
“That's it, just like that,” He said, his hand moved from your wrists to intertwine his fingers with yours as he thrusted as far into you as he could, spilling into you, painting your walls with his his release. 
You both stayed as you were, panting, looking into each other's eyes and then his lips came crashing down onto yours as he pulled himself out of you.
“You're incredible,” you told him, completely blissed out.
“So are you.” He buried his face in your neck, not moving from on top of you.
“Shower?” You asked, and he sighed and nodded into you.
“Please.” 
He got up off you and took your hand, waiting for you to lead him.
“I take it you liked the compliments.” He said, more of a statement than a question.
“Hm?”
“Unless that’s how you always act when a clone compliments you.”
You shook your head, “No, that was reserved only for you.” 
He had a smug smile as you began to walk to the fresher with him in tow.
“Can't wait to see what the others say when you walk into the bar, with my marks all over you.” He said, grabbing your hips from behind, pulling you back toward him.
“Well, not all over me, but there's still time, if you're good.”
You escaped from his grip and he all but dragged you into the refresher.
175 notes · View notes
boundinparchment · 2 days
Text
Essence
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Behind you, Dottore clicked his tongue against his teeth, and continued rooting around in the cabinet. This wasn’t the first time today. In fact, it was the third after an errant vial rolled from a top shelf and broke earlier that morning. You and your samples remained uncontaminated only due to Dottore leaning forward and covering both of you. Or: an accident with a questionable substance leads to a new experiment. Dottore/Female Reader. Accidental exposure to aphrodisiac; breeding kink towards the end, pwp. Available on AO3 here.
“Don’t move.”
You froze, acutely aware of the source of heat and muscle against your back as Dottore reached above you.  
This wasn’t a new occurrence; every once in a while, either Dottore himself or a Segment needed to get into the cabinets above your workstation.  Extra vial trays, pipettes, errant extra microscope slides, among other items.  Things you used for blood and chemical analysis.  You were used to the briefest moment of keeping your head down, front pressed against the edge of your workstation, and feeling Dottore’s heat against you.
Funny, you thought, when he always came across as indifferent to everything.  The Segments were a few degrees warmer, no doubt due to their components.  Their presence was akin to touching a hot pan out of the oven with nothing between your skin whereas Dottore, the prime origin point, was porcelain warmed by fresh tea.
Behind you, Dottore clicked his tongue against his teeth, and continued rooting around in the cabinet.
This wasn’t the first time today.
In fact, it was the third after an errant vial rolled from a top shelf and broke earlier that morning.  You and your samples remained uncontaminated only due to Dottore leaning forward and covering both of you.
You hadn’t caught a glimpse at the label but the contents hadn’t seemed harmful.  Dottore, although not melting, was far from pleased.  He barked to take better inventory of your workstation as your eyes traced the pink substance that soaked his hair, feathery mantle, and immaculate white coat.
He had since removed his formal trappings and appeared all the more graceful for it.  
A breath tickled your scalp as he placed his free hand on your waist, holding you still.
The touch sent jolts through you, as if you were standing in a field during a thunderstorm.  Dottore kept his hand there and you tried to keep your breath from hitching, his finger flexing occasionally.  Was he testing whether you were ticklish?
His breathing was unnaturally slow in return, pressing against you further with every inhale.
“What are you looking for, Lord Harbinger?” you asked, neck craned low.  
It was best to continue to work.  Before you were samples of primordial water.  The substance glistened in standing vials, each awaiting their next step.  
You felt him shift forward and your hips met his properly.  He had, quite effectively, sandwiched you between him and the counter.  A dull yearning sat low in your belly and you doubled your efforts on the samples in front of you.  
To say you did not find your supervisor attractive would be a lie; like most, you often wondered what lay beneath the bird-like mask, literally and metaphorically.  The lower half of his face was charming, home to a well-shaped jaw and a set of lips that were, at times, distracting.  The conversations held between you often led down other avenues.  It was clear to you that few, if any, would ever be a match for him in how he saw the world.
The thought that crossed your mind was bold: someone like him did not need a matching piece, an opposite to dilute him.  A mind like his needed the challenge of one who complemented his thought processes.  More like a fine wine pairing rather than a Hydro slime dousing a flaming flower.
When Dottore didn’t respond, his body tense against you and hand tight on your waist, you spoke up.  Was he ill?  
“Lord Harbinger?” 
You shifted in the hopes that your moving might break his thoughts.  Dottore inhaled sharply and pushed you forward again, chest and hips pressing against you further.  His other arm was still raised, as though he hadn’t quite finished in his search high above.
“I said: don’t move.”
The words were hissed against your ear and you felt the tip of his mask against your scalp.  His chest rose and fell in harsh, stilted motions and you swore you heard him mutter something into your hand when he squeezed your waist again.
Against your backside, you now realized why, precisely, he’d requested your stillness.  The dull pangs from earlier became aching throbs at the apex of your thighs.  You pushed away the thoughts, reminding yourself biological reactions were simply part of being human.  The position you were in was one many would envy.
“I cannot find the tincture that is usually kept here.  But the longer I stay, the worse this problem will be,” Dottore whispered into your ear.
His voice was always so alluring and now it was one of the only parts you could focus on.  Blood drained from your extremities, keen on flooding other parts of your body.
“What was in that vial, sir?”
“Cherubic sea hare venom and whopperflower nectar, stabilized by a single Agate gemstone, finely ground.  All batches of it were purged.  Or should have been.”
An interesting mixture, you mused, as Dottore’s raised arm came down and reached behind you.  You heard a telltale click and then watched as he rested the familiar mask off to the side, next to your tray.  When you went to turn your head and look over your shoulder, his now-free hand found your jaw and pulled your gaze back forward.  Through his gloves, his touch felt feverish, scalding.
“Eye contact will make it worse.  Do as I ask.”
His voice was tight, breathing ragged now, nose buried in your hair.  Archons, you’d had fleeting thoughts of him but this was torture.  Here he was, struggling against whatever he’d come into contact with while trying to work. All because of an accident that wouldn’t have occurred if you didn’t need to work exactly at this location.  Fate was a cruel mistress but this was sheer misfortune for both of you.
“Those substances are hardly volatile on their own, sir,” you offered.
He always enjoyed discussing ideas and he encouraged an environment conducive to it among your peers.  Distracting him might help.
You wanted to move your hips, as though friction would give you any kind of relief, but remained as still as possible.  He wasn’t giving you much of a choice and the longer you stayed still, the more aware you became of everything else.  You were acutely aware of your own wetness, your uniform pants already sticking to the apex of your thighs when you felt him twitch.  His presence was overwhelming on a good day when there were several feet between you.
“The whopperflower nectar is a good base for any mixture but tends to result in disorientation and temperature changes depending on its source,” he said into your hair, his other hand falling to grip your waist.  “Agate, of course, contains the power and passion of the pyro archon.”
His hands tightened, squeezing right at the junction of your hips.
“And the sea hare venom?”
This had to stop at some point, though, right?  None of those substances ever left behind permanent effects.  On their own, they were relatively harmless, but if synthesized together in the right dose, would…
Dottore nuzzled your hair and then worked his way down to your neck, lips ghosting the shell of your ear and the tender spot beneath your earlobe.  
“Enhances one’s awareness of their partner’s needs and changes in pheromones.  Along with an increased stamina.”
“Partner’s needs?”
Your heart pounded as it was but seemed to miss two beats at his wording.  He was already specific and precise.  Purposeful.
“This substance only works when the subjects already have an attraction to another individual, a pre-existing bias.  It is similar to tunnel vision, an obsessive focus on the other with decreased inhibitions.”
You gasped as he pressed against you further, his hardened member against the curve of your ass, situated perfectly.  Heat rose from your chest to your face as you finally put the pieces together and your own arousal caught up with you.
“And you, my dear, keep moving despite my warnings.  Are you eager or were you contaminated as well?”
You stiffened at the realization that, lost in the headiness of it all, you’d been bucking against him the entire conversation.  Your body had a mind of its own and your mouth ran dry.
“I—“
You knew you hadn’t gotten a drop on you.  Somehow that felt all the more shameful.  He needed help out of this situation and all you’d done was chase your own arousal, relished in the moment.  Even if he walked away now, he would still likely require relief and release.  Still be plagued with thoughts of you.  The way forward was obvious, wasn’t it?
“I want to help, my lord.  My mind is clear.  Would it not be beneficial to…see the experiment through?”
The tiniest bit of tension seemed to ease as he flexed his fingers.  Did he like that, you wondered, the way your skin sank beneath his fingers?
“The results might be promising.  But I must warn you…”
Before you could formulate your next thought, Dottore’s hips pinned you in place as he pushed away the objects in front of you with little care.  No sooner had the fleeting consideration for your samples crossed your mind, you felt open-mouthed kisses on your neck, hasty and hungry.  You arched your back and leaned into him, closing your eyes and tilting your neck to give him better access.  
“This will only be the first stage,” he whispered.  “And there is no going back.”
You did not trust your vocal cords as he found a particularly sensitive spot near your ear, stifling a moan and keeping it in your throat.  His hands remained flat against the surface of your work station, further pinning you, surrounding you.  Dottore lifted his head from the curve of your neck long enough to reach out and drag back a pencil and a nearby sheet of paper.
He managed to scribble something in shorthand that you recognized as observations of his symptoms and a basic outline. You had suggested he treat it like an experiment, after all.  
You felt his cock twitch again as his other hand freed itself from the surface to skim the edge of your uniform top.  A low growl rippled through his chest and he paused only to pull off his gloves; as soon as he was free, the pencil was in his hand again and he was grazing the pads of his fingers over your stomach.
Every touch felt as if you were being held above a fire, the flames licking and searing but never leaving a trace.  Your breath left your lips in short, staccato gasps and you shivered, relishing the soft jolts that ran through you.  
He squeezed your hip again on occasion and his fingers dipped beneath the edge of your pants, tracing the lines where your clothes left their mark.  The pressure behind you eased only enough for him to fit his hand between both of you and head lower, grabbing the soft flesh of your ass.  A low moan rumbled behind you as his fingers delved a little further, skimming your outer lips.  You were soaked, his touch gliding over you; you wriggled against him and felt his teeth skim your neck in warning.
“Eager indeed,” he whispered, breath hot against your ear.  “I could already smell it but this is a pleasant surprise.  Have you had thoughts of me, my dear?  Have you fantasized about this?”
Your cheeks burned and Dottore chuckled, his fingers prodding your hot, soaked core once more before withdrawing and cupping your ass again.  He obviously had, otherwise neither of you would be here in this predicament; after all, Dottore stated the substance only worked precisely because there was already a cognitive bias. 
You whimpered as his hand let go of your plush flesh and reached around, fingertip hovering over your swollen clit.  Dottore touched you just enough to cause a squeezing ache through you, your swollen walls demanding more.
“I have, Lord Harbinger,” you panted.
He made another notation as he withdrew his touch, the pencil snapping in his hand just as he finished the last flourish, the last of his restraint gone.  He cast aside the remnants with a flick of his wrist and tugged your pants down just past your hips.  Dottore didn’t bother to do more than unfasten his belt and free himself from the confines of his trousers, bare cock situated between your wet thighs.
The Harbinger pressed a hand to your back and pressed you forward, bending you over the surface, all the better to expose yourself to him.  He leaned over you, sheltering you, as he aligned the head of his member with your entrance, running his length across your lips.  A gasp left you at the sound of your slickness.  Whatever shame you had the decency to feel was gone, replaced with only a blinding need to be full, complete.
He sank into you slowly, his cock stretching your swollen walls with each shallow thrust, his hands fisted so tight his knuckles were bone-white.  You shuddered when he brushed past a particular spot every time, the edge already much closer than you expected.  An icy jolt ran through your core, walls clenching from the pressure of being pressed against the table.  Dottore hissed and his strokes grew long and full, nose buried in the crook of your neck as the sounds and scents of your coupling filled the air.  
At least this lab was more secluded but you long since lost control of any thoughts about being caught.  
“The timing could not have been better,” Dottore murmured, his pace increasing.  “How perfect.”
You meant to ask but he drove into you harder, the edge of the table pushing into your diaphragm, preventing you from speaking.  The impending bliss was already making you see stars and the lack of air was only enhancing the coil tightening deep inside.  You stifled your moans, although perhaps there was no point, as teeth grazed your ear and neck.  Hands reached for your hair, your waist, your hips as he continued to thrust, white hot heat searing across your vision as the pressure finally snapped.  Dottore groaned as you fluttered around his cock, squeezing and pulsing.  
His rhythm never changed through your aftershocks and he sent you over the edge twice more, legs quivering.  All thoughts of documenting his observations seemed gone now as he sank his teeth into the curve where your neck met your shoulder.  With a few quick snaps of his hips, Dottore shuddered atop you and you felt a shooting warmth, filling you to the brim and then some.
Dottore remained inside you, body covering yours.  His hands massaged your hips as he pulled away from your neck enough to press his lips to the open skin and lick away the blood.
“Decreased inhibitions indeed…” you muttered, tongue heavy.
You tried to shift, or at least stand straight slightly.  Your back was beginning to protest and between the man inside you and the table, catching your breath proved difficult.  Dottore chuckled as he ground his hips into yours, his cock still hard and buried deep inside you.
“We’re far from done, my dear.  Stage one is not over yet.  This substance can take days to wear off.  In that time, I’m certain I’ll obtain the results necessary to move right into stage two.  Taking you on your back might improve the timeline, though…”
Your stomach sank as you managed to turn your head and cast a look through your peripheral over your shoulder.  All you caught was a glimpse of a wide smile and glittering ruby eyes staring down at you.
“Oh, did I not mention that?  It’s quite convenient that your body is ready, based on your pheromones; I cannot stop until we’ve guaranteed success.”
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exhaslo · 2 days
Note
Hi again! I hope you’re doing well. I see you’re open for requests, and I have an interesting and NSFW one.
So we already have fics involving Miguel having a heat/mating cycle due to his spliced DNA with Spider DNA. How about Spider![Reader] [FEMALE] being in heat this time and she avoids everyone in the Spider Society, especially Miguel, her own “secret boyfriend”. She’s usually friendly with everyone, but recently acting like she was “sick” and doesn’t want anyone near her. However, Miguel caught wind of this and he brought her back to his lair/office (as a caring boyfriend worried about his girlfriend), [Reader] begs him to “help” with her situation.
Then things got heated and he helped relieve [Reader]’s libido.
- @club-danger-zone
Hehehehehehehe
Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, breeding kink, overstimulation, begging, creampie, fingering
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What did you do so wrong in your life to deserve this horrible side effect of being half-Spider?
Why did such a thing have to happen to you?
This felt like a cruel punishment given only to you. The hero of this damn city. Someone who fought for those who couldn't; someone who fought for good; why did you have to be cursed with something so tempting and primal?
You suffered from heat, or a mating cycle as some would call it. Every now and then you would suddenly have to urge to have sex and want to get pregnant. It wasn't something you could control, nor did you enjoy suffering from it.
You had tolerated it for the most part. Save up enough money so you could call out of work during this time. Had a variety of different toys to pleasure yourself with until the pain goes away.
But this time, it was different.
You weren't sure why, but honestly you could make a few guesses. There were only a few small changes in your life since the last heat cycle. Between your personal issues and the Spider Society, your main guess for the new pain was...
Your boyfriend.
You've never been in a relationship before until now. Your heat was going crazy probably because you had a source to get pregnant now. The only issue is that you and Miguel hadn't gotten that far yet. The two of you were in a secret relationship.
Miguel was the leader of the Spider Society. It was frowned upon to be dating between dimensions. Miguel always said that you were a special case, which was why he broke that rule. You loved Miguel and were happy with him...but you never told him this secret.
Groaning softly, you laid against your bed, your fingers working furiously. Nothing was good enough. Nothing was reliving you. Your heat wasn't going away.
Recalling how Miguel's futurist world had cures for nearly everything, you felt a light bulb appear. Perhaps, there was something to calm down your heat? Hurrying to your suit, you whimpered as you used your watch to transport to the Spider Society.
-------
Miguel had just returned from a mission, grunting loudly as he dragged the anomaly behind him. Miguel was tired and frustrated. As he walked around the Spider Society, Miguel couldn't help but hear some of the others talk about you acting strange.
Curious about what was going on with his girlfriend, Miguel hurried to find you. He threw the anomaly in the cell and had Lyla search for your watch location. He was surprised to find you in one of the bathrooms.
Making his way over, Miguel made sure to enter when no one else was inside. He locked the door and approached the stall you were in.
"(Y/n), are you alright, mi amor? (My love)" Miguel asked softly as you cried.
"N-No, I'm in pain, Miggy," You sobbed. Miguel quickly opened the door, bending down to your level,
"What's wrong?" He asked, wiping your tears away.
Miguel watched as your breathing shuddered the moment he touched you. The look in your eyes were lustful as you merely whimpered, tugging against his arm. You were acting strange. Miguel went to pick you up, causing you to whine and wrap your arms around his neck.
"Migs...P-Please help me. I need...I need you." Your voice was so desperate and sweet.
"(Y/n), is this a side effect of your spider biting you in your world?" Miguel asked softly as he quickly took you to his lair.
"Mhm, y-yes. I...I'm in....h-heat," You were so cute as you barely got the words out.
"Ah-"
Miguel finally felt the click as you told him. Looking around at his large lair, Miguel knew that this would not be private enough, nor comfortable for you. So, he took you to a spare bedroom in the Spider Society and locked the door.
Right as Miguel turned around, you had already taken your clothes off. You were on your knees, practically crying as you begged Miguel to hurry.
"Aye, amor, how can I go easy on you like this?"
---------
Your mind was starting to grow fuzzy. The pain was too much, especially since Miguel was going to help you. Your clothes were getting uncomfortable so you had to remove them. You inhaled deeply as Miguel approached you, stroking your cheek.
"Mhm~"
The warmth of his hand instantly melted you. You grabbed onto Miguel, pulling him in for a kiss. It was sloppy, but you needed this. Miguel proceeded to press your body against the bed as his tongue ravished your mouth.
His hands were all over you, giving you that desperate touch you needed. Gasping, Miguel's fingers easily entered your soaked cunt, touching you in all the places you had been needing to be touch. The curl of his fingers against your gummy walls, caused you to moan and cry.
"So wet, amor. How long have you suffered from this?"
"Ah~ Ah~ S-So long....n-need you, Miggy~" You cried, shaking from cumming against his fingers.
"No, (Y/n), how long today."
"Hnnn, hours! M-Miguel, please! F-Fuck me!" You begged.
Your body needed more. The burning sensation was finally starting to go away, you just needed more. Miguel grunted softly, kissing your neck as he raised your legs. You were clenching to air, anticipating the fantastic feeling you were about to endure.
Tears started to form as you felt Miguel poke your entrance. His kisses a bit more rough as his cock started to make room inside of you. Pure bliss soared from your pussy to your brain as his thick cock stretched your gummy walls.
"I always imagined our first time...a bit more romantic," Miguel whispered, grunting softly as he kept pushing.
"S-Sorry t-that...ah~ I-I can't...mhm contro-"
"Shh, don't be sorry," Miguel grunted, finally setting fully inside of you, "I'll make sure to give you as much as you want. I'm happy to help."
You just moaned to his words, feeling his cock kissing your cervix. Your pussy fluttering around his cock as you cam from insertion. The warmth you were feeling was building up inside you. That knot growing as you moved your hips, needing more friction.
With each thrust, you started to lose your senses. Every slap of Miguel's hips brought you to heaven. Your body just melted against his as the noises the two of you made because almost pornographic. The wet slapping noises over powering his grunts.
"You're so loud, amor. Everyone will hear you," Miguel grunted as he pressed you into mating position, "What do I have to do to keep you quiet?"
"C-Cum, ah~ i-inside~" You cried, shuddering from the overstimulation.
The burning sensation was finally going away and all you wanted was Miguel to fill you. Breed you. Each slap of his cock inside you was almost painful from how sensitive you were. Jolts were shocking every part of you.
"Anything for you,"
Miguel groaned softly in your ear as he gave you his first hot load. You moaned, shuddering from cumming again. Your body was feeling sore, but you kept begging for more. This was too good to stop. Miguel's cock made it's home inside of you.
-------
Miguel gripped your hips as he kept fucking you stupid. Your moans were so loud and sexy that he couldn't hold back. Your pussy was dripping against the bedsheets, coating his cock white. His cum threatening to spill out of your poor pussy.
Your eyes were glossed over with a fucked out expression, drool nearly rolling down your lips. Cursing lowly as Miguel felt you squeezer against his dick again, he tried to control himself. Your body kept begging for more, no matter how fragile you both were now.
"Mig-" You choked, sobbing from pleasure, "M-More...j-just..."
Your words were barely coming out. Miguel frowned at the state you were in, but couldn't refuse. He brought you in for another deep kiss before giving you another heavy load.
--------
A soft groan escaped your lips as you started to wake up. Your vision was blurred, but once you started to come to, you noticed that you were in Miguel's place.
"Hn-" You winced, trying to sit up but couldn't.
"Don't move. You're body is still sore and exhausted. Here's some water," Miguel sighed softly, sitting beside you to give you the drink, "How are you feeling now?"
"M-Miguel," Your voice was low and scratchy, "I-I'm sorry...I...I made you-"
"You didn't make me do anything. I offered to help, besides, I can't resist my poor girlfriend in pain," He cooed, kissing your head.
"Sorry,"
"Just next time, (Y/n), tell me when your heat starts. I want to make sure you get your fill before you come crying to me."
Feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment, you nuzzled against Miguel, agreeing to his offer. Hopefully with Miguel helping you, there will be less heats.
Ha.
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Hope you enjoyed!!!
325 notes · View notes
blackopals-world · 2 days
Note
Can u do a list as to how each grim acts or behaves.
How each Yuus Grim behaves
Part 1
🪡-Tailor!Yuu
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Appearance: Grim has a long cream to gray coat. He looks like a very fancy cat breed. His long fur needs constant care and baths.
Personality: Grim lives the life of a social media icon as a pet influencer. He doesn't consider himself a pet though. Because of this he's very even-tempered and tolerates most things. He often has to model new outfits and accessories for cats and he enjoys the attention. He spends time at Pomefiore getting combed, brushed, and pampered as a famous pet. Cater often tries to get pictures with him which causes Grim to hiss at him and send a fireball his way.
How they met: Grim had always seen himself as a born star. So he tried to do so through magic which is why he stalked the halls of NRC. He narrowly avoided becoming Trein's new pet. He was drown to a beautiful ribbon that spilled out of a coffin and chose it the uniform he wanted. After the catastrophe went down Yuu took him in as a model and they started a social media together modeling outfits and making videos.
🩺-Vet!Yuu
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Appearance: Grim takes on the appearance of a Savannah cat. His body size is larger with longer legs. He has a habit of hissing when he speaks.
Personality: Grim is more feral with a desire to be the strongest. Grim constantly picks fights and causes arguments. He will only eat raw meat and fish. Grim doesn't like humans at all with Yuu as the single exception. He often swipes at Ace and Deuce as they walk by.
How they met: He heard of Savanaclaw and knew he needed to join the school. Instead of interrupting the entrance ceremony, he ended up being tranquilized and put in a cage. Yuu eventually found him after the event after Crowley put them in charge of the beasts on campus. They come to an agreement that Grim will be free if he becomes their familiar.
🔫-Special Forces!Yuu
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Appearance: Grey Norwegian forest cat. One of the biggest cats in the world. He's a big fluffy boy. Built for cold weather.
Personality: This Grim is quiet and intimidating. Well as intimidating as he can be. He wants to learn magic because he wants a challenge. He enjoys games and playing at the board games club. He is pretty calm and even lazy if he isn't challenged enough. Yuu often brings him new things to do like hunting tasks and spying. Grim enjoys snow and will bury himself the moment it gets high enough.
How they met: Yuu can be pretty weird. They sort of snatched Grim up like a stray cat and took him home. Grim was just too fluffy to resist. Grim took it well and revealed he was a walking monster after a few days of brushing and food.
🌊- Marine Biologist!Yuu
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Appearance: Grim looks like a Turkish Van. His coat is waterproof, making him a natural swimmer. He is easy to spot with his mostly white coat.
Personality: Grim is often wandering around aimlessly. He will dive into fishing spots to catch fresh fish. Because of Yuu he spends alot of time at the lounge. He has no fear of the twins or Azul for that matter. Often naps at random spots around the Cafe. The customers have started feeding him snacks if he lets them pet him. It is very lucrative for Azul. Grim has taken up surfing with Yuu.
How they met: Grim washed up on shore and was saved by Yuu. They have been inseparable ever since. Grim is incredibly laid back so he keeps Yuu calm when the situation gets tough.
🪶-Harpy!Yuu
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Appearance: Grim is a Bengal cat. With a lean and thin body.
Personality: Grim is affectionate and curious. He spends a lot of time at Scarabia. He enjoys hunting pests for fun and exploring everything around him. He also has a habit of stealing things. He loves stealing treasures. He is always running from Jamil.
How they met: Grim was stealing from NRC when he got caught by Yuu. Grim bargained for his lives by giving Yuu the treasure he stole. Afterwards, he decided to take advantage of Yuu and stuck to them for more treasure.
🌷-Gardener!Yuu
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Appearance: Scottish Fold with a round head and curled ears.
Personality: Having to deal with their no-nonsense human is no easy task. He helps take care of the garden but he will steal fruits and veggies all the time. When Yuu got mini cows he started working as a barn cat to keep him out of the garden. He's not happy about it. He likes the pies Yuu makes though.
How they met: Grim was drawn to Yuu whether he liked it or not. He was mostly drawn to the silvervine in their pockets. Yuu offered it to him and he decided he liked them. It might have been just the catnip.
🍴-Chef!Yuu
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Appearance: Burmese. Big ol' ears. On the chunky side but it's not too bad yet.
Personality: very cheerful and lazy. He enjoys helping Yuu cook but he tends to make a mess. He constantly pulls on Yuu to get more snacks. Grim loves that he gets to laze around and gets belly rubs. He however hates having Ruggie around and taking his place.
How they met: Yuu found him starving outside the school gates and took him in. Ever since Grim has been spoiled rotten.
♨️-Onsen!Yuu
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Appearance: Japanese bobtail, low shed, and short hair. Smells like flowers.
Personality: He's nice but he's no lap cat. Grim stands guard at the door of the onsen. He is the mascot of the spa. He gets the best fish and massages daily. He gets protective of the workers and Yuu and will attack anyone who gets out of line.
How they met: Grim saved Yuu when she was getting harassed and as Yuu's hero, he was given a place by her side.
🌙Celestial!Yuu
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Appearance: Has pelt formed from stardust. Feels like fur. Feels warmer than the average cat.
Personality: Grim is a silent companion who has helped Yuu raise 3 children. Grim slept next to Silver every night for years and has served as a somewhat unlucky nanny cat for Malleus as well. He's done a good job fetching toys, turning out lights, and being used as a stuffed animal replacement. Not to mention a crocodile's chew toy. He is relieved that the boys are grown up. But the boys still look for him. He hides from them.
How they met: Yuu made Grim hundreds of years ago and he has served as a loving companion and aid. He was firmly against their marriage to Lilia.
🎮-Otaku!Yuu
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Appearance: Selkirk Rex. he's not matted thats just his fur. He is just curly.
Personality: Grim was just looking for a way into the school and convinced Yuu to help him. He just didn't know that Yuu would immediately drag him to the headmaster and demand to keep him. Now he has to tolerate being used for cat memes and being petted by Idia. But if they put one more pineapple on his head they are dead. It's not too bad he gets to Playtest every game Yuu makes and eat snacks with them.
How they met: He was so raggedy. Yuu just wanted to see where this goes.
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lucienarcheron · 2 days
Text
That Single Thread of Gold [ Elucien ]
Prompt: Inspired by @eospaint lovely elucien piece here. I went a little nuts in the tags of it but then couldn't contain it and had to write this little fic! I love writing elucien being caught up in their awkward feelings stage. I hope you enjoy! | AO3
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He told himself it was for the best if he didn't see her this time. It was almost always awkward. Tense. Lucien could do without the stress of their uncomfortable interactions this visit; he was here to see Feyre, after all. He had given Feyre enough notice that she would inform Elain and there would be no need for them to cross paths. They had no need to see each other, especially when she had clearly never expressed the desire to see him anyway. 
So Lucien sat and waited in Feyre’s living room, let in by one of the twins. He sat and waited and tried not to let the crumpled pieces of his stupid heart hope. Tried not to set himself up for disappointment. His fingers drummed on his knees as he glanced towards the half open door, waiting for his friend to arrive. 
Instead, her scent flooded his senses. 
And then she appeared in the doorway. 
Lucien didn’t know what to do with himself as she blinked at him in surprise, almost as shocked as he was that she was standing there. 
Elain hadn’t even meant to stumble into the room. She knew he was coming today – Feyre had given her the heads up but – but something about her had been different today. Today felt different and she wasn’t sure why. Normally, Elain had no desire to meet him and allow herself to feel all the things she did whenever he was close. Normally, she was very good at being a coward and avoiding him. 
But today…that tug of the bond had pulled her into the room before she could stop it or realize what was happening.
She stood by the door and blinked, then blinked again. Elain hadn’t even realized he was already here.
Lucien stood immediately and as anticipated, the expected awkwardness unfurled between them, quickly followed by that strained tension.
Touch. Taste. Claim.
Lucien fisted his hands by his side and instead bowed graciously, murmuring, “My lady.” 
He said nothing more as his mate watched him, a muscle flexing in his jaw at her gaze, because here she was staring at him like she had no idea what to do with him and Lucien felt heat rise in his body. He swallowed, then cleared his throat and casually said, “I’m here to see Feyre. It seems she’s running a little late.”
“Oh.” is all Elain could think to reply and a flicker of emotion passed his expression quicker than she could read it. She licked her lips, her hands fisting in the folds of her dress and Elain couldn’t help but catalog every inch of him; she normally didn’t allow herself to look at him for too long and Elain wasn’t sure what it was this time around compelling her to take him in. 
Was it because it had been a while since she’d seen him? Was it the lack of sleep? Was it the thread of gold that chafed at her whenever he was in the general vicinity? He always seemed to handle himself so well around her despite what Elain had heard about the mating bond doing to males; he always handled himself so well.
She wished he’d yell at her, if only once. So she had a reason to actually avoid him. So she had a reason to resist him, to be justified in cowering. 
But no. He was always so polite.
Realizing a few moments had passed and she hadn’t said anything, Elain cleared her throat and said, “I’m not sure when Feyre will be back.”
Lucien tried not to fidget beneath her gaze despite the urge to shift on his feet. She’d never looked at him so directly before. It was unnerving him but Lucien didn’t let himself hope. He squashed down any possible emotions he could feel and instead nodded. “I understand. I’ll take my leave then.” he said and gave her a thin smile. “She knows where to find me.” 
He didn’t allow himself another word and instead, took a step aiming to leave but – but then Elain took a step towards him and he froze. 
All her senses went on high alert as Elain realized that she too had paused in that half step. A half step she had taken towards him before – long ago. Her eyes widened slightly and she watched as Lucien’s brows furrowed, his body strained as her pulse quickened beneath her skin, her heart pounding.
Lucien tilted his head, straightening, her reaction confusing him. “Is there something else I can help you with?” he asked tightly. 
And it was Elain’s turn to swallow because she didn’t know. Was there something else he could help her with? She hadn’t been alone with him in – in a long while. She had made sure of it.
She went out of her way not to actively think about him, not to have him in her mind so he wouldn’t follow her in her dreams the way he did anyway on so many nights. But now he was here standing in front of her and she wasn't sure what to do with him.
Her pulse was fluttering and Elain wanted to be angry with him even though none of this was really his fault. She wanted to be mean to him even though he didn’t deserve it. She just wanted someone who sees how wretched she feels about it all. She wanted someone to see behind her stupid fake smiles and her distance from him. She wanted someone to understand why.
And the longer she stood staring at him, the more Lucien seemed to read her mind. That single thread of gold between them…he seemed to understand the whirlwind of feelings she was battling and his expression softened for a moment. Like he really did see.
Elain almost hated that even more but she wasn’t even sure why and the thought threatened to release tears she had no business showing in front of him. Her bottom lip trembled for a breath before she straightened and shook her head.
Lucien stood still for a moment then forced himself to take a step then another until he stood in front of her and slowly, held out his hand. Then waited.
Because he could feel her. He could hear her heart and Lucien couldn’t stop himself from trying to bring her comfort in some way. The instincts beneath his skin wouldn't let him walk away when he knew his mate was on the verge of tears, even when Lucien had no idea if he was the reason for them.
This fae life – this mating bond had been thrust on her and the way she had been pretending to adjust since then was one of the main reasons he never pushed. He felt her confusion, her inner turmoil. He knew what it was like to swallow it all and play pretend. The least he could do was allow himself to be the guiding light through the dark for her. Even if he wasn’t sure she’d want that from him. Lucien couldn’t help but offer. 
Elain glanced down at his hand and she felt her throat tighten. They didn’t touch. They rarely even stood so close. Did she want to touch him? She didn’t know what his skin felt like but in her dreams – in her sleep she wondered – she felt like she knew – 
Before she could let herself doubt any further and even as the battle of emotions threatened to swallow her whole, Elain couldn’t help but slowly, carefully slide her hand in his. 
And it felt – it felt –
Elain felt herself take a breath. She waited for the discomfort. For the prickling anxiety that usually haunted her. For the wretchedness to snap at her heels.  
But his hand was softer than she imagined. Strong, calloused – a warrior’s hand but – it didn’t feel bad at all. It felt…better than expected. It was gentle. Warm.
She glanced at him then away, suddenly embarrassed and truly not sure what to do with herself. He was so patient and it only made her feel so much worse about herself. She owed him nothing and he owed her nothing and yet…
Lucien only held out his other hand and Elain met his gaze as he gave her a small knowing smile.
Elain’s throat bobbed and even as she slid her other hand into his, she whispered, “Why?”
The simple question seemed to make Lucien’s shoulders sag because even to Elain, her one question asked about a hundred more. Why was he still here? Why did he still try with her? Why did she hesitate to even speak with him? Why did she hide? 
Why? Why? Why?
“Because you looked like you needed some comfort.” he said quietly and shrugged. “And I know what it’s like to need a steady hand.” 
And it was like he’d snatched the breath from her throat. 
Had her sisters been right about what a mating bond could do for those blessed with one? About what her mate could do for her? Was it indeed a blessing then? Had she really only been hurting herself with her distance? She had only slid her hand in his, touching him so very lightly and yet…with this simple touch, Elain had found herself willing to stand in this room with him a little longer.
“A steady hand?” she repeated softly and the brush of his thumb against the back of her hand seemed involuntary.
“A steady hand and a good friend make all the difference.” he said and hoped his yearning wasn’t too obvious as she met his gaze again. 
“A good friend?” she repeated once more and the corner of his mouth lifted, the movement highlighting his scar as he nodded.
“Indeed.”
A friend. 
The thought seemed to hit Elain so suddenly and the sheer longing of it almost overwhelmed her. 
A friend. 
She needed one more than she could put into words and Elain could only stare at her mate. The rapid beating of her heart seemed so loud in the silence between them but for once, it was a comfortable silence. 
Comfortable enough that Elain found herself asking so very quietly as roses bloomed on her cheeks, “Do you happen to know any good friends available?”
His lips twitched and Lucien was sure the rapid beating of his own heart now matched hers as he answered in that same quiet tone, “I daresay, I have the perfect person in mind.” 
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aurasplanet · 2 days
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TOO CUTE carl grimes x fem!reader
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warnings — both are 18+, another repost of an old fic, fingering, super short i’m sorry i wanted to get something out </3
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it was a normal occurrence for you to sit in carl’s room while he read comics. it was late at night and the two of you always sat together, just in silence doing your own things.
what wasn't normal though, the heat that appeared between your legs every time you dared to even look at your best friend.
you didn't know why, maybe you were just so severely touched starved that any attractive person you looked at made you feel that weird feeling. and it just so happened to be carl.
or maybe you're just realizing how attractive his hands are, his fingers wrapped around the page sticking out the most to you. you hadn't noticed when you started rubbing your thighs together, focused on carl while you subtly looked over your book at him.
you peek down at your legs and halt your movements in embarrassment and your eyes go back to carl just to see him already looking at you with a smirk.
he stands up, "what are you doing?" his voice is sincere but his cocky face gives away that he knows exactly what you were doing. he makes his way to his bed, leaning over you. you don't answer him, you just look away.
he tsks, grabbing your chin with his hand, the same one you'd been caught staring at only moments before. he lets his other hand travel to your legs, finding purchase on your thighs and caressing them.
"answer me." he chuckles when you shy away.
"nothing."
"didn't look like nothing to me?" his fingers slowly start to pull the band of your pajama shorts down.
your hands grab his shirt and you hide your head in his chest. carl 'aw's at you in fake sympathy. he moves your underwear to the side and his fingers dip down to your pussy, sliding through your folds to collect some of your wetness.
you whine into his shirt, "too cute," he speaks to himself, slowly inserting a finger into you. he curls it upwards, eyes trained on you for a bad reaction. all you did was curl your upper body into him further, your hips pushing into his hand.
he gets the message, entering another finger before pumping them in and out of you. he groaned, feeling you quivering around his fingers. his free hand found it's way in your hair, lightly tugging to get you to look up at him.
your eyes were doe-like and watery, and your lips were in a pout. he swore you never looked cuter. his thumb began rubbing your clit and the little hiccup you let out made his pants feel just a little tighter.
he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, muttering something about how pretty you were before leaning in to connect your lips. his fingers were picking up their speed, your hand coming down to hold his wrist while you tried to focus on the kiss.
you felt a knot building in your stomach causing you to whimper into his mouth. the closer you felt the more you clung to carl, the hand on his wrist landing on his thigh, nails digging into the pant-covered skin.
you sigh into his mouth as you come undone, body relaxing against his. he pulls away to look at you, your eyes shut and your hole still spasming around his still fingers.
his thumb runs along your cheek and he smiles at you fondly. "tell me next time, i'll help you baby."
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buckleyx · 2 days
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Hear me out! Eddie Diaz x reader who swears she isn’t good with kids and is a big “I don’t want kids! I hate babies!” Kinda person but secretly loves kids so much and is so good with them like she honestly gets along with kids better than adults
BABY FEVER E.D
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the gif i used is not mine! all credit goes to the owner! @cafecitoeddie
Author’s note: I love this request so much bc I'm secretly the same hehe !
Eddie Diaz x GenderNeutral!reader
Warnings: drunk eddie and reader hehe
masterlist
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"Oh come on." Eddie whined playfully. A smirk tugged his lips as his hands danced around your waist. His chin rested on top of your shoulder as he peppered your neck in soft short kisses.
It was a beautiful summer evening and to celebrate the warm weather Maddie and Chimney invited everyone over for drinks and BBQ. The atmosphere was peaceful and everyone felt so relaxed. Kids ran around the yard as adults indulged in laughter and conversation. Moments like these you cherished with all your heart.
You noticed Eddie's eyes on you from across the table as you helped Jee-Yun with cutting up her food. Your smile unintentionally grew wider with every laugh and babble she blurted out to you.
After dinner, while everyone was still chatting away but the sun disappeared more and more in darkness, the garden was lit by beautiful garden lights and candles. Jee-Yun's head rested against your chest as you indulged further in conversation. Her eyelids became heavier as she tightly grabbed the plushie you gifted her earlier closer to her body. As you were chatting with your friends you looked up at Eddie who was talking with Buck and Chimney. He paid no mind to their conversation, only having eyes on you. He took a chug from his beer before giving you a soft smile. He was standing next to the fire pit, the sparks made his eyes shimmer.
All these years you convinced yourself and others you were terrible with kids. But now you felt caught, by your own actions, as the toddler on your lap softly snored away.
As the evening continued and it was getting more late, children were safely tucked away in bed and everyone snuggled closer to the warmth of the fire pit with beers in hand, you and Eddie managed to escape the coziness just for a second. You found each other in the kitchen, getting more drinks to continue the party outside.
As soon as you entered the dimly lit house his hands were all over you. You were both pretty drunk and you knew Eddie long enough to know he could get very touchy when intoxicated. And that's what brought you here. To this moment and conversation.
"Eddie, we talked about this." You giggled as his stubble tickled your neck. "I'm not good with kids."
"Come on baby, we both know that's a lie." He said, slightly tilting his head to prove his point. His hand still rested on your hip as the other one traced his fingers over your jaw. "You are honestly, and I mean honestly," He cupped your face, gently tilting your head so you could look at him. "One of the most beautiful and kindest people I have ever met. And I am sure that every kid will agree." Eddie smiled softly, his eyes filled with love as he looked at you.
Your eyes felt glossy after his words. No one has ever shown you so much love as him. You closed your eyes before taking a deep breath, a loving smile appearing on your lips. "I really love you Diaz, you know that right?"
"Hmh, I had a suspicion." He joked before pulling you in for a kiss.
My requests are open! :)
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jinwoosungs · 18 hours
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{ 158 }
penpal.
academy arc
jinwoo sung x fem.reader
were you going crazy?
what was up with those shadows surrounding your classmate?
settled off to the left side of the classroom, you watch sung jinwoo from your periphery, seeing what looked liked dark wisps surrounding the entirety of his form. the boy was simply reading the pages of his textbook, yet something about him terrified you.
you weren't sure just how long you had been staring at him, your gaze following the tiny wisps of shadow as it seemed to dance around him-
before stiffening when your gaze met with his cool, grey eyes.
becoming paralyzed, you found that you couldn't look away from him, with jinwoo gently flashing you a kind smile. he opens his mouth, ready to greet you when four rowdy classmates interrupts him, surrounding his desk as low chuckles echo throughout the area.
you wanted to call out to them, to somehow warn them-
but no words could come out.
"wow, you're a big shot, aren't you? wearing that glove and all."
"why are you only wearing it on one hand, though? is there a black flame dragon in it or something?"
"ughhhh, my hand!! the black flame cow in my right hand is roaring-!!"
the four males began to laugh incessantly, making your anxiety shoot through the roof. you trail your gaze over to his gloved hand...
"hey, look. take off your glove. let me try it on." one of the boys demanded, further making you anxious at what was to come.
jinwoo remains silent, completely unfazed by these goons who were trying so hard to intimidate him. you had to fight back a grin, feeling the tiniest bit of admiration despite the anxieties you held for him.
"bastard, are your ears stuffed or something? why aren't you replying when we asked you to take off your glove?"
"what is it? do you have a tattoo on your left hand or something?"
jinwoo lets out a huff in response before taking off his glove, revealing a severely burned hand. your throat was felt clenching up in response once more when you caught a glimpse of his scars-
scars that appeared like deadly spiderwebs against his pale skin-
scars that were certainly not normal.
"what? never seen a burn wound before?" jinwoo's voice retained its tranquil quality, causing a wave of discomfort to be seen across the four rowdy students as they each clicked their tongues in utter disgust and disdain.
"we were just joking around, why get all serious?"
"just wear that glove again, i'm scared i'll get nightmares about it."
"FUCKING DISGUSTING."
you watch as the four boys proceed to exit the classroom, only to see a flash of purple from your periphery as an invisible force made them freeze before tripping over the doorway, landing headfirst into the floor (the sudden impact causing the students who were currently out in the hallway to laugh at them).
your heart was racing, nearly stifling you with its anxious beats when you look back at jinwoo to see him smiling at you. he calmly meets your gaze for a brief moment before giving you a wink (acting like he had shared some inside joke with you), catching you completely off guard.
he turns his attention back to his textbook and continues to read, sometimes sneaking glances at you while keeping that knowing smile on his handsome features, making you purse your lips in response.
looking away from him, you pretend to look down at your own handwritten notes, yet the sensation of his eyes being on you never seemed to cease.
{ ... }
the discomfort and anxiety you felt each time you sat next to jinwoo became too much to bear when you asked to switch seats with another girl from your class.
of course, she hadn't the slightest clue about the general offness seen with jinwoo. you knew that all she saw when it came to jinwoo was a cute boy that was top of the class.
but no one ever did notice the strange way his eyes seemed to glow-
how his mannerisms and style of speaking were a tad bit too mature for a mere teenager-
or how there were an almost constant presence of shadows surrounding him.
admittedly, sung jinwoo freaked you out.
even now, when you were literally three desks away from him, you swore that you could feel his piercing gaze against your back.
and you didn't know what you could have possibly done to have warranted such attention from him.
only when class had ended were you finally able to breathe, knowing that jinwoo had track for the next couple of hours. he had already left the classroom when you slowly began to pack your belongings together. adjusting the blouse of your uniform, you brush back your hair and begin making your way to the library to find a few good books to read before heading home.
the moment you stepped into the room filled with books, you let out a happy sigh. breathing in the fresh scent of pages, you eagerly step into the library and head to your favorite aisles.
fantasy... romance... mystery... gahhhh there's so many good books to read! it's a shame we can only check out 4 books at a time...
you think bitterly to yourself, taking a few books off the shelf when a flash of purple catches your attention. with a tilt of your head, you look out the window to see jinwoo settled directly below you. he was taking casual sips of his water all while sneaking glances at you from his periphery.
you pout, resting your free hand against the glass, gaze narrowing down at him. jinwoo realizes that he had caught your attention, fully facing you now as he lifted up his hands to give you a tiny wave. the suddenly soft and sweet action was enough to make the heat grow against your cheeks, with you unable to ignore the gesture as you wave back at him.
his smile was enough to distract you from the lengthening of your shadow made in response to the setting sun, distracting you from seeing the several, glowing purple eyes that remained hidden from within its dark depths.
{ ... }
the morning you came into your school, you saw something fall out of your locker, making you question how such a note could have gotten into the metal compartment.
for starters, it had a lock on it-
a lock that only you had the key to.
so just how did this folded note even reach you?
you shake your head and ignored all logic when it came to how you had gotten this note, proceeding to unfold the piece of paper as it read:
your eyes and smile are really beautiful. tell me, are you seeing anyone right now? ( s. monarch )
your throat turns dry upon reading the note, making your heart race in response.
was this person... actually flirting with you through a note?
and just what kind of nickname was s. monarch?
was this guy just really cocky or something?
yet, even knowing that this note was kind of cheesy, why did it succeed in making you smile?
you look down at the page to see that it had plenty of space for you to write your reply. trying to hide back your grin, you take out your favorite pen and decide to write:
thank you for your compliment. i am not seeing anyone at the moment, but i'm curious- who are you?
you sign off the note with your full name before placing it back within the confines of your locker, somehow knowing that your face was completely flustered right now.
your good mood had dramatically increased, and you found yourself looking forward to talking to this new penpal of yours.
{ ... }
your eyes and smile are really beautiful. tell me, are you seeing anyone right now?
thank you for your compliment. i am not seeing anyone at the moment, but i'm curious- who are you?
ah, i'm sorry, i can't say. it would ruin the mystery :)
mystery?? why would you wish to keep your identity a secret, monarch?
i have my reasons. besides... i want to use this chance to get to know you better.
may i ask how you're able to read and place new notes within my locker?
nope, sorry. it's still a secret ;)
ugh, you're kind of annoying, monarch -_-
i've been called much worse. :)
{ ... }
you spend the next couple of weeks exchanging notes with monarch, giggling each time he asked questions about you, like wanting to know your favorite color-
favorite books-
favorite foods-
just, anything and everything that made you who you are.
while you answered each of his questions, you would read his own responses pertaining to his own personal interests.
you could say purple and black are my favorite colors.
i wasn't much of a big reader before, but i'm enjoying a lot of murder mystery books. maybe you can recommend me some other good novels to read?
my favorite foods are pretty much anything that my mom makes, haha, but kimchi stew and bulgogi beef are my personal favorites.
altogether, he seemed like your typical, teenaged boy. the conversations you had with him remained light-hearted and fun.
but that all changed when you received today's note within your locker during your lunch break:
what do you think of sung jinwoo? i notice you tend to avoid him a lot.
your eyebrows furrow in response to his question, wondering why monarch would even care about how you felt when it came to jinwoo. however, you were always honest with him before, so you saw no reason to lie to him now.
you truly want an honest answer? well, to put it bluntly, jinwoo terrifies me. there's just this... really strange and dark aura about him? yet no one seems to notice it but me. sure, he's plenty polite on the surface, but... i feel like there's more to him than meets the eye. it's almost like... he has some secret, one that no one can understand, but keeps well hidden? ah, sorry, i am well aware that i am not making any sense, but it's how i really feel. jinwoo makes me feel anxious.
after finishing your note, you place it back within your locker before walking back to your classroom.
somehow, you couldn't ignore the sensation that you were missing something vital...
that there was some connection you just weren't seeing when it came to monarch and sung jinwoo...
{ ... }
your heart was racing when class ended for the day, and you wondered if monarch had already sent you a reply. with a noticeable bounce in your step, you go to your locker and unlock it, seeing a brand new note settled atop your various notebooks.
meet me at the library after school.
a painful clench was felt at the base of your throat, with you picking up the single note, your hands trembling as you fought to calm down. letting out a deep breath, you close your locker and brush back your hair, holding monarch's latest note close to your chest.
were you getting nervous?
why did your legs feel stiff and heavy all of a sudden?
with each step you take, getting oh so much closer to the library, you swore that your heart was going to choke you with its rapid palpitations-
praying that you wouldn't suddenly die of a heart attack, you open the door to the library-
only to see a lone figure standing in front of the window. the setting sun shining directly in your eyes made it difficult for you to see who it was, giving you no choice but to come closer to the person.
wiping away the tears from your eyes, you stepped closer and finally saw just who monarch truly was-
letting out a gasp when sung jinwoo himself was looking at you with those same, glowing eyes.
"you... you're monarch?!" that was all that you could manage, the anxiety immediately becoming worse as your heart continued to beat faster within the confines of your chest.
a rich chuckle escapes from his lips, "indeed, i am." he confirms your suspicions before taking a step closer to you.
jinwoo seemed unaware (or perhaps he just didn't care?) about your mounting discomfort and anxieties, still coming closer to you as you continued to take several steps away from him.
only when your back met with one of the sides of the bookshelves did you finally stop, with jinwoo smiling down at you. he places his gloved hand against the shelf, trapping you against him.
with his free hand, he gently traces at your bottom lip, making your breath hitch in response. despite how much of a nervous wreck he made you, you couldn't ignore the sudden warmth you felt spreading across your veins at the look of adoration he gives you.
"you have plenty of good reasons to fear me, i'll admit, but... is it really just fear and anxiety that you feel for me...?"
his whisper was almost seductive, trailing his fingertips down your features before gently grabbing a hold of your chin.
"or have you mistaken your anxieties with feelings of love for me, too?"
your breathing comes out in uneven breaths, and you could feel your cheeks further heating up in response as your heart skipped several beats-
"wait, you said too, did you just hint that- that you feel love for me?"
jinwoo's glowing purple eyes became alight with amusement as he gives you an eager nod. "obviously, these feelings of mine have only grown since the moment i saw you again..."
you became speechless then, watching with bated breath when jinwoo inches closer and closer to you, "despite how long it's been for me, you have not changed... not even a little bit, sarang."
your knees immediately become weaker when jinwoo calls you by that sweet term of endearment, and you nearly fell to your knees when he finally kisses you. his arms were kept locked around your waist, kissing you with a fervor that made you feel oddly nostalgic-
perhaps you had no reason to fear sung jinwoo after all; especially with how addicting his kisses had quickly become to you.
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a.n. - and we are so back with the fluff i have always loved writing about! i am so happy, passing a really difficult final exam as i look forward to the rest of my academic year 😭 so i decided to write another jinwoo story!
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
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pennyellee · 20 hours
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈 - 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐭
LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU
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pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au
summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.
Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.
chapter warnings:minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, religious references, mentiones of physical violence, loss of blood, incision wound, suicide attempt, strong language, consented sexual intercourse, oral sex, fingering, handjob, emotional distress, remorse, verbal confrontation, emotional manipulation, suicidal ideation, bargaining, ... (if i forgot smth, pls i'm so sorrryy)
beta read by @chaoticpuff17
word count: 11,6K
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.
author's note: is at the end of the chapter! 🫧🩵
m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII CHAPTER IX
lítost (n.) a state of agony and torment by a sudden sight of one’s misery
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She could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, the soft rustle of wind making her hair dance. The scent of fresh blooms filled the air. She buried her feet into the warm sand and smelled the summer heat mixed with the salty ocean. It was as if time stood still, frozen in a moment of perfect happiness.
She relished the sensation of sand between her toes, the soft grains shifting beneath her feet with each step she took. As she gazed out at the endless expanse of the ocean, the horizon stretched out before her like a canvas painted with shades of blue and gold. The waves lapped gently against the shore, a rhythmic lullaby that echoed the beating of her heart.
She slowly returned to the porch of a quaint cottage, the soft glow of sunset casting a warm embrace around her. Y/N could hear the front door to open when she carefully slumped down to one of the armchairs in the cosy living room.
“I’m home!”
His footsteps were steady and purposeful as he crossed the threshold, his presence filling the room with a sense of familiarity that tugged at the edges of Y/N’s consciousness.
“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted, his voice like a soft melody that danced through the air, sending shivers down her spine. He moved closer, his features slowly coming into focus as he stepped into the light.
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she met his gaze, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. His eyes were dark and intense, but filled with a warmth that made her pulse quicken with anticipation.
“How was your day?” she asked standing up again to greet him, her voice barely above a whisper as she took in his rugged appearance, the faint stubble lining his jaw, the way his hair fell effortlessly across his forehead.
“Been better, -”
“-hurried home to you, love,” he replied, his voice low and husky as he reached out to take her hand in his. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her veins, igniting a fire deep within her soul. She feels such a strong connection to him, not stopping to think why.
Y/N’s eyes wandered around the room, overlooking the family portraits on a wall full of memories. Her fingers enveloped his dark soft hair, playing with them. As she caressed his hair, a sense of comfort washed over her, as if she had done this a thousand times before. The warmth of his hand in hers felt familiar, like coming home after a long journey.
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin as he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “And how is my sunshine?”
Y/N’s heart fluttered at the endearment, a warmth spreading through her chest at his words. She tilted her head up to meet his gaze, her eyes soft with affection as she smiled up at him.
“Missed you,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. His lips curved into a tender smile, his eyes glowing with adoration as he leaned in to press another kiss to her forehead.
“Did you?” he teased her.
Y/N felt her cheeks flush at his teasing tone, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she nodded in response.
“Of course, -” she replied, her voice filled with genuine affection. “You know I always miss you when you’re not home.”
He grinned at her words, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Well, we better fix that, love,” he said, his voice laced with warmth as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to her lips. Y/N melted into his embrace, her heart fluttering with joy as she wrapped her arms around him, savouring the feeling of his lips against hers.
“Good enough?” He asked, his tone playful.
“Maybe a tiny bit more,” she murmured, her voice filled with love. A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he pulled back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Is that so?” he teased again, his voice husky with desire. Without waiting for her response, he captured her lips in another searing kiss, his hands trailing down her sides, igniting a fire deep within her.
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she melted into his embrace, her fingers tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss, losing herself in the intensity of their passion. In that moment, there was nothing else in the world but the two of them, their bodies pressed together in a perfect symphony of desire and longing.
“Seems like I can’t get enough of you, love,” he moaned to the kiss, his hand already travelling past her underwear to coat his fingers with her juices. The nearest wall served as a support column for her once she wrapped one of her legs around his waist, working on his suit pants.
With each touch, each caress, she felt herself slipping deeper into the abyss of desire, her body humming with pleasure as his fingers expertly explored her most intimate places. She gasped as he skilfully teased her, sending shivers of ecstasy coursing through her veins.
Hiking the hem of her dress up, the nearest table collided with her upper body, her hand spread over the width of the wood, gripping the edge forcefully. Within her, a fire burned bright, consuming her with a fervour she had never known before, as she surrendered herself completely.
“Such a pretty ass, -” slapping the soft skin with his palm he lowered to taste the juices she produced. Y/N’s free hand reached to press his head to her heat, moving her hips slightly to the rhythm of his tongue.
The feeling of his warm breath against her skin, the flick of his tongue, sent her spiralling into ecstasy. Her hand gripped the edge of the table tighter, her knuckles turning white as she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure. She arched her back, pushing herself closer to him, craving more of his touch, more of his intoxicating taste.
With each flick of his tongue, she felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge, the fire within her burning brighter with each passing moment. Before she could release with a loud moan he slapped the other cheek, turning her over while he straightened himself behind her, chuckling at her frustration once he did so. With a hunger that bordered on desperation, he positioned himself, his hands roaming over her curves as he leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear.
“Is my baby needy?” a soft whimper came out of her, she nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she craved more of his touch, more of his intoxicating presence.
“Yes, -” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she pressed her hips back against him, desperate for the connection she knew only he could provide.
With a swift movement, he entered her from behind, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her lips. The sensation of him filling her, stretching her in all the right ways, sent waves of addiction coursing through her body. His movements slow and deliberate as he fills her completely. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she felt him moving inside her, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing over her.
“Fuck!” She had to curse out loud, biting her lip. The room was filled with loud moans and groans, the audible skin to skin contact as he raised the tempo, his hand pressing her head to the table.
As he moved in perfect harmony, Y/N felt a sense of bliss wash over her, her body trembling with pleasure as she surrendered herself completely to the moment. With each thrust, she felt herself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, her senses heightened by the raw intensity of their desire.
“You’re such a good girl, -”
She tightened around him, her nails digging into the wooden surface of the table. His groans became louder with each snap of his hips to her welcoming heat and Y/N could not help but bite down her lip, painful yelp filled with the backdrop of pleasure leaving her mouth as he continued to hit all the right places.
A primal growl resonated as he buried himself deeper inside her, feeling her walls clenching around him, urging him closer to the brink.
With one final thrust, they both reached the pinnacle of their desire, their bodies exploding in a symphony of ecstasy. Y/N’s back arched, a guttural cry escaping her lips as waves of orgasm washed over her, engulfing her in a whirlwind of bliss.
He groaned loudly, his release echoing hers as he emptied himself inside of her, their connection deepening with each pulsating wave of pleasure.
As they slowly came down from their euphoric high, Y/N’s breaths came in ragged gasps, her body still trembling with aftershocks. She turned to him, her eyes glazed with satisfaction, a lazy smile playing on her lips.
“A bath, shall we?” Y/N’s head twitched to the side, thinking why this trivial sentence sounds way too familiar. Shaking it off she pressed her damaged lips to his with a pleased hum as agreement.
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Time seemed to slow as Yoongi lunged forward, reaching out to stop her, but it was too late. The blade sliced through her skin, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake.
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as pain seared through her, her vision swimming with darkness. She felt Yoongi’s hands on her throat, his panicked voice calling out, but it was too distant, as if coming from a faraway place.
“Seokjin?!!” he shouted; his voice raw with desperation.
He cradled her in his arms, his hands trembling as he pressed against the wound, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood.
The sound of loud footsteps echoed in the corridor as others rushed forward to reach the doctor, their expressions a mix of horror and disbelief. But amidst the chaos, Y/N’s empty gaze remained fixed on Yoongi, her eyes still burning with flames.
“Stay with me, baby. Don’t leave me please.” Yoongi whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. He pressed his lips to her forehead, willing her to hold on, to fight for her life.
But as he looked down at her pale, lifeless face, he knew that the road ahead would be long and fraught with challenges. For now, all he could do was pray that she would survive, that she would find the strength to forgive him, and that they would someday find their way back to each other.
“Please don’t take her away from me, my Lord.”
Yoongi prayed that it was not too late to save her from the darkness that threatened to consume them both.
One thing remained clear in Yoongi’s mind: he would do whatever it took to save her, to make amends for the pain he had caused, and to prove to her that his love was worth fighting for.
Yoongi’s voice cut through the turmoil, his words a desperate plea for forgiveness. He begged for her to forgive him, to give him another chance to make things right. No more secrets, no more lies. No more pain. He was willing to rebuild their relationship from the ground up, on a foundation of honesty and trust.
The metallic scent of blood mingled with the tang of fear, thickening the air with a palpable sense of impending doom. He ripped one of his sleeves a while ago, pressing the roughly crumpled fabric to the wound, praying that Seokjin is near, or that anyone heard him scream frantically enough to relay the message.
“You can’t leave me, baby, please. I promise we’ll work everything through.”
He kissed and caressed her hair with his free hand that was covered with her blood. Tears blurred his vision as his hand trembled at the sight. A blood he never wished to shed.
“Please, Y/N, you have to forgive me.” The weight of his actions pressed down on him like a leaden blanket, suffocating him with the weight of his mistakes.
“Fucking goddammit, Yoongi!”
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Y/N set the plates on the table, pouring the hot water into a kettle of green tea as he joined her at the table. They exchanged smiles, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the kitchen and the windows providing a magnificent view of the sea.
“I’ve been thinking, -” she said with a smile on her face while she set the seaweed salad down in front of him. He hummed in response, reading today’s paper.
“About opening my own practice.” He nodded, sipping his tea thoughtfully.
“Thought you wanted to wait until the babe arrives?”
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat at his words, her mind spinning with confusion. A baby? What baby was he talking about? Her mouth seemed to work without the help of her mind. As if she was a mere observer, not the main character.
“I know. I know. But I can’t shake the feeling that now is the right time. I want to create something for myself too. Daddy's successful, why shouldn’t Mommy be successful too?”
Lifting his eyes from the paper, he reached across the table, his touch gentle as he took her hand.
“Opening a practice is a big step, especially with a baby on the way.”
She knew this was going to be hard, but she was determined to build herself a name too. And help those who can’t help themselves.
But as she looked into his eyes, she noticed a subtle yet unmistakable change. A faint scar marred his eye, tracing from above his eyebrow to his cheekbone. Y/N was certain it wasn’t there before.
“How are you feeling? Can you feel the babe moving?” he asked, his eyes softening with concern as he gently brushed his hand against her stomach. Y/N gulped down, trying to shush all the thoughts that echoed in her mind.
“He’s been active today,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly as she placed her hand on her growing stomach, feeling the gentle flutter of movement beneath her palm. “I think he’s just as eager to be with his Daddy as I am.”
The man’s eyes widened with surprise at her words, his expression softening with emotion as he took in the sight of her. And in that moment, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the room with hues of pink and gold, Y/N felt a sense of peace wash over her.
She cradled her swollen belly with tenderness, feeling the gentle flutter of life within. The promise of new beginnings and the joy of impending motherhood enveloped her in a cocoon of love and warmth.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. Something doesn’t feel right, and she can’t help but wonder what he’s hiding.
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The door slammed wide open, Seokjin’s voice was soar, his breathing frantic from running. His expression grave as he took in the scene before him.
Seokjin wasted no time, his training kicking in as he rushed to Y/N’s side, his hands moving with practised efficiency as he assessed her injuries. Yoongi watched in silent desperation, his heart pounding in his chest as he prayed for Seokjin to work his magic and save the woman he loved.
“You have to save her, Seokjin-hyung,-” Seokjin never saw Yoongi in a condition like this since his parents died and never thought he would ever again.
“She would lose too much blood if we attempted to transport her now, but I need my shit, Yoongi,” his tone was urgent and commanding as he took charge of the situation. “Get me my briefcase, hot water and towels, -”
As Seokjin worked to staunch the flow of blood, Yoongi hovered nearby, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s face as he whispered words of encouragement and prayer. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, of facing a future without her by his side.
“Yoongi, snap out of it and get it! I left it in the sunroom,” Seokjin left in hurry once a distant cry of his leader echoed at the first floor. He was sure that everyone outside of the celebrating banquet room heard it.
Yoongi nodded in a mixture of desperation and determination, scrambling to his feet as he absorbed Seokjin’s instructions. His mind raced as he mentally registered each item Seokjin urgently needed. In the tumultuous atmosphere, Yoongi rushed out of the room, his steps echoing in the corridor as he desperately sought the necessary supplies.
“What happened Yoongi?” Hoseok rose from his seat in the sunroom walking towards the dishevelled state of his friend. Yoongi did not even register him as he frantically searched for Seokjin’s briefcase. Reaching out to get it with his bloodied hands his ears miffily caught the younger Miss Wang’s anxious voice.
“Whose blood it is, Kkangpae Min?”
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She couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that something was amiss. The scar on his eye screamed volumes to her, yet her mind could not put things together and decipher what it wanted to tell her and why she does not recall that her husband had a scar like that. Where would a businessman come to get hurt this way? She couldn’t shake the feeling that her husband’s explanation didn’t quite add up. She stared at the scar on his face, her thoughts swirling with confusion and doubt.
“What do you mean, baby? I’ve always had it.” Said he, setting down the hat from his head, running his finger through the dark locks, pushing them back from his face.
But try as she might, she couldn’t recall ever seeing that scar before. It wasn’t just a minor detail that had slipped her mind—it was as if her memory had been rewritten, leaving her with a sense of disorientation and unease.
“Always?” she echoed, her voice barely a whisper as she struggled to comprehend what he was saying. Following him to his office where he lifted the briefcase to put it on the table while she slumped down next to the unlit fireplace.
“I don’t understand,” she murmured, her eyes fixed on the scar as if searching for answers.
He reached out, gently taking her hand in his, his touch a comforting anchor in the midst of her confusion, and she did not understand why the scar evokes so many feelings inside her, yet his touch calms her.
“You traced it with your fingers when we first made love, baby, I can assure it has been there for a very long time.” She tried to grasp onto the fragments of memory, to recall the moment he spoke of, but it eluded her like a fading dream.
“I want to remember,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the tumult of her thoughts, “it feels so... significant.”
“Memories can be elusive, maybe it’s because of the accident?” he murmured, his voice soothing.
“An accident?”
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“You are fucking lucky she did it with a stupid letter opener, it seems like it did not manage to do as big of a damage as a regular knife would.”
His brow furrowed with concentration, his hands moving with practised precision as he worked to staunch the flow of blood and assess the extent of her injuries.
“She scraped over her artery, not much but enough to slow the blood flow to her brain. I need to close the wound as soon as possible.”
Seokjin’s words hit Yoongi like a physical blow, sending a shiver of fear down his spine. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him as he realised the severity of Y/N’s injuries. The thought of her life hanging in the balance sent a wave of panic coursing through him, but he forced himself to focus, to push aside his fear and uncertainty.
“She did not reach her windpipe, nor did she cut herself deep enough, thank God for that Yoongi.”
He never fell out of God’s grace, and he hoped he wouldn't do so now. His hand intertwined with hers as he whispered words of love and hope into the stillness of the room. Minutes felt like hours as the doctor carefully disinfected the wound to reduce the risk of infection. The stitches are precise.
“Why is she not awake, Seokjin?” He asked carefully, awaiting the worst. Seokjin’s expression softened briefly as he glanced up from his work, meeting Yoongi’s anxious gaze with empathy in his eyes.
“She lost quite some blood, Yoongi.”
“I understand-,” Yoongi murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he squeezed Y/N’s hand tighter, as if to anchor her to this world. “But she’s strong, Seokjin-hyung. She’ll pull through this, right?” Seokjin offered a small nod of agreement, his eyes reflecting a mixture of empathy and determination. If only he had been more attentive, more willing to listen and understand, perhaps they wouldn’t be facing this crisis now.
“I should have done more,” Yoongi murmured, his voice heavy with remorse.
“You know, this would probably never happen if you would let me ease her mind in the beginning.”
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The warm water cascaded over their bodies. He was holding her and her naked body in a tight embrace. The flickering candlelight casting a soft glow upon their entwined forms.
His hands roamed over Y/N’s skin, she arched her back in response, a soft moan escaping her lips as he trailed kisses along her neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His touch sends shivers of pleasure coursing through her veins.
She moaned softly against his lips as he teased her, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her whole body. Y/N reached between them, her hand finding his manhood, firm and ready for her touch. She grasped him firmly, feeling his arousal pulse beneath her fingertips.
“Fuck, love, —” he moaned loudly, a raw expression of his pleasure and desire as she brought him closer to the edge. She followed the rhythm he settled for, stroking his manhood.
Y/N first felt the warm stream of his ejaculation before she heard his throaty moan of her name and then she could feel his fingers deeper in her than before, moving faster until she saw the stars too.
So, is this how love feels?
Her fingers slowly traced the faded scar from a wound on her neck she couldn’t quite remember when it appeared on her body nor how it came to that. Closing her eyes, trying to recall and dig up any memory that would help her and ease her confusion turned out unfruitful.
“Good night, Dove-” Her eyes snapped open hearing his voice. She felt his lips press into her cheek, one hand caressing her belly. Y/N’s lenses took in the change of surroundings. She’s in bed that feels like home as if she was sleeping in it for years. Clutching the silk duvet she looked at him. The scar is still present on his face, calling to her. He looked so calm, at peace, falling asleep with a smile on his face.
Dove. The word echoed in her mind, stirring up fragmented memories that danced just beyond her reach. It was a name she couldn’t recall ever being called before, yet it felt right, as if it belonged to her in ways she couldn’t comprehend.
Everything around her felt right yet so wrong at the same time. The soft crackling of fire, soft wind blowing outside and the symphony the crickets created. It was nighttime. A day went by, and she could not remember what she was doing for all the hours after breakfast.
Her hands slipped down to caress her belly with a stranger inside. Her hand slowly moved to cover his. Holding it felt somehow right, even though her mind was saying otherwise. The only thing that was wrong yet felt right was her helplessness, her indecisiveness, her unawareness. She was a prisoner of her mind and her body. This life felt surreal, sweet, and endearing, musing to her to live it without doubt. But doubts she had. Is this what her mind thought life would be? The more she thought about it, the more she felt like this projection is what her sound heart and mind longed for. This is what she wanted.
Love, happiness, and-
“Why do you call me that?” She asked suddenly, leaving her mind to speak to him. His eyes fluttered open to lovingly gaze at her. He pulled his hand from under hers, gently took it to intertwine their fingers together.
“What do you mean?” with a gentle smile playing on his lips, he whispered. The flickering firelight danced across their intertwined hands, casting shadows that seemed to whisper untold stories and shared moments.
“Why do you call me Dove?” She searched his eyes for answers.
“Because you brought peace to my heart, -”
“-and my world.”
His gaze held hers, a depth of emotion swirling within those familiar eyes that she couldn’t quite place. The doubts and uncertainties that had clouded her mind seemed to fade away, replaced by a deep sense of trust and acceptance. At least, for now.
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“Are you satisfied now? Hm?” The widow’s steps and words were aimed at the man she loathes. Her brother is laying at the sanitorium’s metal beds, a fractured skull and internal bleeding to be treated. They fear he might have been admitted far too late as Doctor Kim’s priority was the lady of the house.
They are to relieve pressure on the brain caused by the fractured skull and to stop the internal bleeding. They did not tell his older sister anything else. It was a horrific picture of her brother’s head being immobilised to prevent further injury, a trepanation has been done to prevent severe head trauma, his face swollen from all the hits he took from his leader. All for the Kkangpae’s selfish act of desire for his loved one to obey.
She stopped in front of the man whose face was puffy and eyes bright red from all the tears he shredded for his loved one. Now he cries. Daiyu’s mind could not understand the notorious man Min Yoongi is. Nor any of the men of Min Clan. Their women are weeping, yet the reason is not what they assume it is. They weep because of them. Because of the pain they brought upon them. The pain they’ll never admit that ever was there.
“You ruined us all, Yoongi.” No honorific for a man that has done so much damage to her family. He stood there without looking her in the eye and quietly apologising for his doings.
“Missus Park,-” he attempted to raise his voice above the line so she could hear him.
“My mother gave me up to your clan during the first war and after years I made my peace with that, -” he listened to her, standing there like he was the victim.
“Yet you were cocky enough to ask for more?” Her words are laced with bitterness and anger, fuelled by the injustice she feels at the hands of the Min Clan. She vows to never forgive him for the harm he has wrought.
“And yet again my mother gave up Y/N too. But that’s not quite right, hm?” The widow’s heart remains hardened, her anger burning bright as she refuses to grant him absolution for his sins.
“You think you and the rest of your hooligans are clever? Abducting women and forcing them to elope.” A heavy silence descends upon the room, broken only by the muffled sounds of distant footsteps echoing through the hotel corridor. Yoongi is letting her relieve her anger on him. He deserves it.
“Missus Park, I think you’d rather be at your brother’s side, don’t you think?” A smooth low voice echoes right beside her. She turned slowly to face the source, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. Standing there, with an air of quiet confidence, was a man she recognized all too well – Kim Taehyung, a trusted associate of the Min Clan.
“You.” She said with venom in her voice. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she regarded him, his presence only adding to the tension in the room. She knew all too well the power and influence he wielded, and she braced herself for whatever he had to say.
“Hyung, go inside, she might wake up any moment now. She’s been through a lot; you should make sure she’s taken care of-”
“How dare you say that!” Daiyu’s voice got an octave higher when she accused the consigliere.
“This is not the time or place for your interference, Missus Park.” Taehyung said, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of warning.
“We all have been through a lot because of you!”
“What on earth you did to make Xiaoli love you so blindly, -” Taehyung’s lips curved into a faint smirk, but there was a hardness in his eyes that belied his demeanour. He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. But she refused to be intimidated. She knew that Taehyung’s influence over Xiaoli was a dangerous one and her mind was bothered numerous times.
“Your mother was not as smart as the clans perceived her after all.” The widow’s jaw clenched with anger as Kim Taehyung’s words cut through the air.
“You dare speak of my mother?” she spat, her voice trembling with fury. “You and your ilk have no right to claim any semblance of intelligence. You prey on the vulnerable and the innocent, twisting their minds and hearts to serve your own selfish desires-”
“The nature of our private affairs are not something you have the right to be noisy about, Missus Park.” His tone dripped with disdain as he stared at the widow with cold indifference. Daiyu’s fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to contain her anger.
“You and your clan have caused nothing but pain and suffering, and yet you have the audacity to stand here and lecture me about privacy?”
Taehyung’s smirk widened; his eyes gleaming with amusement at her outburst. He took another step closer, invading her personal space with an air of arrogance that made her skin crawl.
“We operate by our own rules, Missus Park,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “And if you value your brother’s life, you will do well to remember that.”
“This is far from being over. Once my brother recovers, I’m taking them both and Xiaoli to America.”
“Is that so?” he replied, his tone laced with scepticism. Taehyung’s expression darkened at her words, his jaw tightening with barely concealed rage. For a moment, it seemed as though he might lash out in anger, but then he seemed to regain control of himself, his features smoothing into a mask of icy calm.
“You’re welcome to take your brother and go to the far far land but my fiancé and Buin will stay put, end of the discussion, Missus Park. Or do I need to take any precautions — how’s your son?”
She knew all too well the lengths to which the Min Clan would go to protect their interests, and the thought of her son being caught in the crossfire filled her with a sense of dread.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she spat, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear. “You wouldn’t lay a hand on my son.”
“Oh, of course not, we’re not child-killers, Missus Park. But you wouldn’t want me to make sure they take him away as you’re clearly unstable to raise a child.” Taehyung’s smirk returned, his eyes glinting with malice as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear.
“You all are fucking monsters.” She spit his way and with a flick of fear in her eyes she turns away to storm down the hallways back to the waiting car that will take her to the sanitorium.
The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, lending an eerie atmosphere to the hushed conversation that unfolded.
Yoongi’s brow furrowed with concern as he glanced at Y/N, her delicate features softened in sleep. He was holding her small hand in his large one, refusing to leave her side.
“Hyung, do you think she could be pregnant?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, mindful of the gravity of their discussion. Seokjin and Namjoon exchanged a solemn glance, their expressions reflecting the weight of Yoongi’s question.
The older man did not want his brother to be in more pain than he already is.
“It’s certainly possible, —” Seokjin replied softly, his gaze shifting to Y/N’s still form.
“—yet, it’s way too soon to tell.” Namjoon nodded in agreement, his eyes lingering on Y/N with a mixture of concern and hope.
“Her health and recovery must remain our primary focus.”
A sense of apprehension settled over Yoongi as the reality of their situation sank in. The prospect of impending fatherhood filled him with both excitement and trepidation. His hand possessively slipped under the duvet, caressing her belly with a tender touch. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand, a silent vow of love and protection that lingered in the quiet of the room.
He was determined to never fail her again.
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Y/N found herself drifting into a state of peaceful slumber, the gentle rhythm of his breathing lulling her into a sense of security she hadn’t known before. A feeling that was for a long time foreign.
Yet, even as sleep beckoned her towards its welcoming arms, a nagging sense of unease lingered at the edge of her consciousness. It was as though a faint whisper echoed through the chambers of her mind.
Images flickered in the darkness, fleeting glimpses of faces and places she couldn’t quite place. It was like trying to catch hold of smoke, the harder she tried to grasp onto them, the more they slipped through her fingers.
And then, amidst the chaos of her mind, a single image emerged from the depths of her subconscious—a flash of silver amidst the darkness, a glimmer of recognition that sent a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins.
As Y/N’s dreams began to swirl with fragments of memories she herself did not recognise, she found herself waking with a start, the remnants of a haunting nightmare still lingering in her mind. The boundaries between reality and illusion blurring in the hazy mist of slumber. Beside her, the man stirred, his gaze filled with concern as he noticed the tension in her features.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice soft yet filled with a quiet intensity that spoke volumes.
“It was just a bad dream-” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, his expression understanding as he reached out to gently brush away the stray strands of hair that clung to her face. “Nightmares are just the mind’s way of processing the chaos of the world,” he said, his words carrying a weight of wisdom born from years of introspection. “-the unwanted reality we dare not to accept,” he slowly caressed her cheek.
“Sometimes, facing our fears head-on is the only way to conquer them.”
“I know,” she replied, her voice steady despite the lingering unease that gnawed at the edges of her consciousness. “It feels like the nightmares are trying to tell me something, -”
“Perhaps they are,” he said, his tone tinged with a hint of curiosity.
“What do you mean?” She asked, shrinking her eyebrows.
“Wake up, little Dove.”
“I don’t want to wake up, Yoongi. I’m wide awake.” Her words proceeded her mind once she uttered them.
Yoongi. Only now she realised that she never uttered his name out loud this whole time. His name is Yoongi. She recognises him now, but this man is not the one she married.
This man is the one the other will never be.
“Are you?”
The warmth of the bed was replaced by the sterile chill of a sanitised room, the soft breathing beside her now replaced by the distant sound of metal clinking against itself.
Her eyes fluttered open to meet the gaze of Seokjin, the doctor who had been overseeing her treatment. There was a sombreness in his eyes, a depth of understanding that spoke of the gravity of the situation.
Her initial reaction wasn’t one of shock or panic but rather a stoic silence whilst she looked around the room. Just yet. That was giving the young doctor a hunch that her mind is stronger than anyone ever thought it is.
“Y/N,-” he began, his voice gentle yet firm. He carefully placed the file he was holding in his hand back to the nightstand next to the bed. Seokjin didn’t want to trigger her. He needed her to be as calm as possible.
“What did you do to me?” A hoarse broken voice laced with pain echoed in the room. It was barely heard and the immense pain on the side of her throat got her head spinning. The sight of Yoongi’s rage-filled eyes flooded back to her mind, the desperation of her attempt to protect Kai from his wrath. She instinctively reached up to touch the bandages that now adorned her neck, wincing.
“You mean, what did you do to yourself?” he replied softly, his words heavy with implication.
Y/N felt a wave of nausea wash over her as the reality of her actions sunk in. The realisation that she had tried to take her own life filled her with a sense of profound despair.
“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “There was no stopping him. He would have—” it was hard to swallow, it was harder to breathe, painful to speak and just like countless times before, it was harder to see through the tears.
“Is Kai alive?” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. Seokjin met her gaze with a solemn nod, Y/N felt a sliver of hope pierce through the darkness that had consumed her. Perhaps, amidst the chaos, there was still a chance for redemption, for healing.
“He’s going to make a full recovery in a few weeks,” he said softly, his words a balm to her wounded spirit.
“But you need to heal too—”
Tears welled in her eyes as she nodded in silent agreement, the weight of her own pain pressing down upon her like a burden too heavy to bear.
“Little birdie sang that you promised to make a snowman with a certain little man.” The little boy was a reminder of the love and happiness that still existed in her life despite the darkness that surrounded her.
“Can I sleep some more?”
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Before she managed to drift back to sleep, Seokjin quietly went about checking her vitals, his experienced hands moving with precision as he monitored her condition. With a deep sigh, he made a mental note to bring her iron pills to help replenish the blood she had lost. Looking at her bandaged neck, he couldn’t shake the feeling that her academic background would totally exclude the possibility that this petite woman wouldn’t know how to kill herself with that one swipe of a letter opener if she aimed correctly. And that made Seokjin suspicious of the young Buin’s intentions and endorsed him into believing that after all, the girl still has some fire to burn and will to live. She just needed good guidance, he thought.
“How is she?” The Kkangpae rushed to approach him once he closed the door to his office. It was very hard to convince him to leave her side. She was asleep for a while and Seokjin did not advise on waking her up anytime soon until she woke up herself. With conflicting emotions, he turned to face his dishevelled form.
“She wants to sleep some more, otherwise she’s stable, but—” Seokjin replied, his voice tinged with weariness.
“—she’s lost a significant amount of blood so I’m going to have her take iron pills—”
The Kkangpae’s brow furrowed in worry, his gaze flickering back to the closed door behind Seokjin.
“I want to see her,” he said, his voice tinged with desperation when he interrupted his Hyung.
Seokjin hesitated for a moment, weighing the risks of disturbing Y/N’s rest against the Kkangpae’s obvious concern. Ultimately, he decided to trust his instincts.
“We need to talk first, Yoongi.” Seokjin said firmly. The Kkangpae nodded reluctantly, his shoulders slumping with defeat. Not happy with Seokjin’s stalling. Nonetheless, Seokjin could sense the tension radiating off him, the weight of guilt and fear pressing down on his shoulders.
“You pushed her way too far, Yoongi—” the doctor begins, slumping down to the low cushion sofa looking at the faded yet evident scraped puddle of blood on the wooden floor.
“I want you to consider me helping her.”
Yoongi’s blood ran cold at the mention of such a drastic measure to be taken. He knew of the doctor practising such methods and he knew of them being successful once two living and walking examples were among them.
“We’ve talked about this Seokjin, and I declined your offer. She doesn’t need it.”
Seokjin’s gaze hardened, his eyes locking onto Yoongi's with unwavering intensity.
“Are you ever going to accept the truth Yoongi? She is suffering here!” Yoongi’s jaw tightened; his fists clenched at his sides as he fought to control the rising tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He knew that Seokjin was right. But he was also still the selfish man he was before.
“She’s my responsibility, Seokjin,” Yoongi said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll find another way to help her. I won’t let you do this to her unless it will be absolutely necessary.”
Seokjin’s expression softened, a flicker of empathy shining in his eyes as he reached out to place a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “I know you love her, Yoongi,” he said gently. “But sometimes, loving means making difficult decisions for the greater good.”
Yoongi couldn’t continue to bury his head in the sand, hoping that Y/N’s pain and suffering would simply disappear on its own and perhaps the moment she heals she’ll be capable of falling in love with him just like he did.
“Just how long can you go without your love being reciprocated?”
Seokjin’s question echoed in Yoongi’s mind, a painful reminder of the unrequited love that had tormented him for so long.
He couldn’t bear the thought of robbing her of her identity, of erasing the very essence of who she was. The essence he loved her for. But now, faced with the prospect of losing her altogether, Yoongi couldn’t bear the thought of erasing the very qualities that had drawn him to her in the first place. He loved her for her fire, for the strength and passion that burned within her.
He wanted to keep her flame alive.
How ironic, isn’t it?
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Waking up again felt even worse than the first time. The dizziness remained and a strong feeling of fatigue only reminded her of what she had called upon herself. The bed seemed to mock her with its warmth, the pillow unyielding beneath her. It was a bit firmer for some reason and a heartbeat echoed in her ears.
Her hand went up the sheets until another hand fell upon hers. The bed was not warmer, the pillow was not firmer and the heartbeat she hears isn’t hers. The fingers, adorned with cold metal rings that now laid on top of her smaller hand squeezed hers in firmer grip. What was supposed to be a comforting touch seemed like shackles to Y/N.
Y/N gulped down, trying to not slap his hand right away just like she wanted to. The pit in her stomach was larger and larger. She did not know what to expect from him. Is he going to punish her? Is he mad? Does he have the right to be mad? Of course not. But for what is to come, Y/N would rather him mad and angry.
“I am so sorry, little Dove.”
His voice shattered her thoughts and Y/N’s eyes stayed wide open, just staring up front. He was holding her laying form on his chest and she could feel his other hand caressing her back. He held her way too close, as if trying to mend what he had broken with his other hand.
“I thought I was going lose you,” he choked out, confessing, his grip tightening. She pulled away with swift movement, sitting up to confront him and look down on his half laying form.
“You’ve almost killed him, and the only remorse you feel is for me?!”
Her weak voice trembled with a mixture of anger and disbelief, her eyes flashing with hurt as she confronted him. Her vocal cords were not as damaged, yet her throat was too sore for her voice to be heard fully. The weight of his actions hung heavy in the air, suffocating the space between them. Guilt etching lines on his face as he met her accusing gaze. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.
“The words you said before, back home, got to me, and I lost control. I did not mean for any of this, Dove. I am genuinely sorry,” he finally managed to utter, his voice thick with regret. His eyes pleaded for her understanding, begging for forgiveness in the face of his unforgivable mistake.
Despite the hurt and betrayal, she felt a small part of her longed to believe him, to believe that he was capable of change. But she knew very well that the Yoongi starring in her dreams is a completely different man. The scars of his actions ran deep, leaving behind wounds that could not be easily healed.
“You crushed his skull, Yoongi,” she said with a stone-cold anger, her voice laced with an icy fury that sent shivers down his spine. He messed up.
“And I shall do everything to redeem myself. I love you, baby-” He knew he had to make things right, to earn back her trust and repair the damage he had done. How could he earn something back if it was never there?
“You don’t love me, Yoongi. You love the idea of having me under your control!” Each syllable drips with bitterness and resentment. He lifted himself on his elbows to look closer to her teary eyes. They reflected so much pain and sorrow.
“You know that’s not true. I’ll do anything for you.” He insisted, his voice trembling with sincerity as he reached out to gently wipe away her tears whence she slapped his hand off.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she spat, her voice sharp with venom. She stood up, putting distance between them, but he refused to let her go. The weight of his actions had left her wounded, her trust shattered beyond repair. She could no longer bear the false promises and empty gestures that had become their relationship.
“Did I have to reach the edge of despair for you to wake up?” Her words cut through the silence, echoing with the pain of her betrayal.
“I was scared of losing you,” His voice trailed off, the weight of her accusation hitting him like a ton of bricks. He struggled to find the right words to express the depth of his fear and regret, knowing that no apology could ever fully erase the pain he had caused.
“You never had me to begin with.” She said, her voice filled with finality. But he wouldn’t accept it. The ancient melody, the notes that echoed in the silence, screamed, full of wounds that will never heal.
“Promise me you’ll never do that again, love. Hurt me, not yourself.” He pleaded again trying to reach her, his voice breaking with emotion as he reached out to grasp her trembling hands, hoping against hope that she would find it in her heart to forgive him, to give their love another chance. He cannot let her words get to him again.
“Again?!-” she retorted, her voice laced with disbelief and incredulity. She wondered if he’s even worthy of her pretending. Her hands went to hit his chest, pushing him away from her.
“-You think there’s going to be fucking again, Yoongi?!” Her words were sharp, cutting through the air with the finality of a verdict. A flying cup shattered right next to his head. He did not even register when she took it into her hands and threw it at him, missing him just by a few inches.
“I’ll do anything to have you by my side. Dove, I beg you.” Min Yoongi pleaded, his voice breaking again. On his knees, Min Yoongi bowed his head in remorse.
“You’ll never change, Yoongi.” The weight of disappointment was evident in her words as she turned away, unable to bear the sight of him at that moment. But the selfish side of Min Yoongi wouldn’t let her do that.
He grabbed her by her waist and pulled her close, not leaving an inch between them.
“I can’t fucking live without you-” his voice cracked, raw with desperation and longing, tears welled up in his eyes, begging for her to understand the depth of his love.
“-without those arms,” he continued, his voice softening with the memories of their intimacy.
“-full cheeks-”
“-lips,” he whispered, each word a plea for her to see the love and longing in his eyes.
“Yoongi, I cannot do this anymore.”
Yoongi felt his heart drop like a heavy weight in his chest. He collapsed onto his knees before her, his arms wrapping desperately around her delicate frame.
“I’m so tired of the pain in my chest,” she admitted, her voice trembling with vulnerability.
He had pushed her too far, hurt her too deeply, and now he stood on the precipice of losing her forever.
“I was ready to die—”
“I’m so fucking sorry, Dove” he whispered, his voice barely audible above the tumult of emotions raging inside him. Y/N glanced at his trembling hands and thought about his words for a second. Contemplating his sincerity.
It was his eyes this time that cried. The endearment sounds different coming from this version of Yoongi. It felt so distant from the Yoongi she had once met in her dreams. The man he’ll never be.
“I can make it better. Just let me in and I’ll show you how happy we can be.” Min Yoongi promised, his eyes filled with sincerity. He’s haunted by the knowledge that he just might have let the love of his life slip through his fingers.
“You’re really that delusional, aren’t you?” Y/N questioned; her voice laced with disbelief.
“Aren’t we all? -” Min Yoongi replied, his voice tinged with resignation. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. Please, give me another chance.”
Y/N remained silent; her expression guarded as she wrestled with her own emotions. Her mind swirled with thoughts and even when she tried to say something, an inaudible cry of frustration, sadness and anger was heard.
Min Yoongi slumped down to his knees, holding her small hands in his. Looking at her with hope in his eyes.
“I beg you.” He pleaded once more for her forgiveness. His eyes searched hers, hoping to find even the smallest glimmer of something that would tell him that he’ll manage to woo her right this time.
If she could walk away, she would do it right now. But this isn’t her que to leave the scene. Just not yet. Be patient.
“Your beloved God shall decide upon your fate, Yoongi-”
“Upon the fate of us,” she continued to preach.
“What do you—”
“Should God spare his life, I’ll consider forgiving you,” she interrupted, her voice firm.
“Then let it be so,” he said, his voice filled with determination and hope.
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Y/N was clutching the delicate cup of tea in her hands whilst her eyes remained fixed on the outside surroundings of the hotel. Riling herself up was something she was told to seize. Yet, there she stands, ready to run outside any minute.
“He’s trying, you know,” Xiaoli said softly, following Y/N’s gaze. “In his own way, he’s trying to make things right.”
The sight was both heart-warming and heartbreaking, a glimpse of the man he used to be and the man he could still be.
“Well, he certainly knows how to evoke emotional damage.” Y/N sighed, her eyes lingering on Yoongi’s figure adorned in a warm coat. His hands were covered with leather gloves that protected him from the frostbiting cold snow.
“People can heal.”
“Some wounds run too deep to heal completely,” Y/N glanced at Xiaoli, her eyes searching for understanding that she will most likely never find.
“Love has a way of healing even the deepest wounds-” Xiaoli reached out, placing a comforting hand on Y/N’s arm. Y/N scoffed, her eyes never leaving the Kkangpae and her little brother Bo Cheng. Building a snowman. It was a picture of normalcy; his current actions were mocking the magnitude of his power and acts he performed to obtain it.
Min Yoongi was on top of the world. One day, the prime minister of Japan expresses his gratitude for clearing the Yakuza clan and unburdening the country, the other, he’s powerless when the woman he chose to be his companion throughout life, and what’s after, paints the floor red with her own blood.
“Relax, Y/N Buin.” The other voice echoed from the other side of the room. She was clutching the cup way too tightly, making her knuckles go white. She hated when people called her Buin. It did not evoke power in Y/N, rather the opposite. It was a reminder that she is the lady of this clan because Yoongi forced her into this position.
The room felt heavy with tension, each word from Xiaoli pulling at the raw edges of her emotions. The far away sound of Bo Cheng’s laughter when he threw a large snowball Yoongi’s way.
“You did not see him that day,” Y/N finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with pain and regret.
“The darkness in him consumed him.”
“I saw him after that—”
“-He’s trying to make amends now,” Xiaoli said gently, her hand tightening around Y/N’s.
“I wish I could believe that he’s capable of change, Xiaoli.” The rustle of newspaper reminded her of the other presence in the room. The consigliere silently worked at the table, overviewing contracts Y/N daren’t deem anything but legal. The other man present in the room was now folding the said newspapers, standing up and walking in the direction where Xiaoli and Y/N stood by the large window.
“Never in my entire fucking life I have thought that I will see Min fucking Yoongi build a snowman-” Hoseok spat out jokingly, his disbelief evident. There was even a hint of amusement in his eyes.
Y/N’s grip on the teacup relaxed slightly, but her gaze remained fixed on the scene outside the whole time.
“He just might be able to change, we all do-” he began, leaning down to her height level, admiring the velvet rose pins holding her hair in an updo.
“for lov—”
“Jiě jie! Have you seen the snowman we built?!” Y/N’s eyes brightened at the sound of Bo Cheng’s voice. The change in her expression was immediate.
Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle, “Yes, dear. It’s marvellous.”
Bo Cheng’s delighted laughter echoed across the snowy expanse as he ran back outside to Yoongi, pulling him towards their creation.
Hoseok, witnessing Y/N’s transformation, teased, “See? He’s not all bad. Look at how happy he makes your brother.”
“One snowman doesn’t erase the past, Hoseok.”
Hoseok laughed, conceding with a nod, “Fair enough, Y/N. Fair enough.”
“What about two?” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. But the daunting feeling never left her as she watched him and her little brother.
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“Is he asleep?” She asked quietly, trying to restrain her voice as much as possible. The best was not to overload the muscles of her throat at all. She talks very little but thinks a lot. That certainly is not the best situation for someone like Y/N.
Her mind takes her to places. To those she visited and those she is yet to see. The “Yoongi” comes back to her in dreams from time to time, and Y/N’s mind cannot grapple with why it is happening so. What is the cosmos trying to show her?
“He is usually stubborn to go to sleep if it’s not for Ma reading him a story-” The younger sister began to rely upon her never-ending gratitude to her beloved leader. Safe to say, she shifted her loyalty without having to pledge it first.
“-thank you, Kkangpae Min, you’re marvellous with children.” Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Xiaoli. Not like she was cautious to not get caught doing so, Xiaoli did see her doing so, poking her elbow to express her gratitude to Yoongi too.
“What?” Y/N asked her. Xiaoli was easier to manipulate, easier to forget, and easier to forgive. Y/N wasn’t, she would let him feel the chasm in between them before she made her move to wrap him around her finger.
“Aren’t you grateful for such a caring husband?”
The loud silence echoed in the room, making everyone uncomfortable. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed very loudly. Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Xiaoli-” Y/N has begun only for Xiaoli to not let her speak.
“No, Y/N, he’s at least trying. You never did-” her younger sister interrupted her instantly. Y/N looked into Yoongi’s eyes, for the first time since he crossed the door threshold after he put Bo Cheng to bed. She did not know what she was looking for, yet she expected him to speak up.
“Xiaoli-” she attempted again but this time it was Yoongi who interrupted her.
“Mrs. Wang, I appreciate your concern, but me and Y/N shall resolve our marital issues without your guidance.”
Yoongi’s voice was calm, but there was a firmness to it that made the room go still. Xiaoli’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by his assertiveness. Y/N’s gaze locked onto his again, searching for a hint of what he was thinking. She raised her brows at his diplomatic words to her sister.
Not wanting to admit it, Y/N enjoyed the guilt in Xiaoli’s eyes. Yet it was Yoongi she apologised to and not her.
“Well, I would say that is our cue to leave those two alone, love,” Taehyung murmured all the way from across the office where he was still seated. The room was quiet enough that everyone heard him.
“I meant well.” Was the last thing Y/N heard before Xiaoli and Taehyung got too far away for them to hear anything.
Yoongi took a deep breath, breaking the silence.
“She can be a lot, the sister of yours.”
Y/N chuckled softly, wiping away a stray tear. They sat down by the fireplace.
They always do. He reached out, taking her hand.
“How was your day?” He said gently. For the past week, she wasn’t avoiding him - she was avoiding the talks he wished to have with her to reconcile.
“Jimin told me you went to visit Kai today.”
Y/N’s eyes widened momentarily before she looked away, her grip tightening around the fabric of her dress. Yoongi’s thumb gently stroked the back of her hand, a gesture meant to be comforting, but it only intensified the whirlwind of emotions inside her.
“Seokjin says he is getting better slowly.” She hesitated to talk, biting her lip. Kai was a sore subject between them, yet Yoongi realised that’s where his only chance of a life with her lay. He agreed upon her terms of forgiving him, seizing any opportunity to keep her by his side.
“And so do you, but I would love to hear that from you, Dove.”
“It still pains me to talk, and I get dizzy if I stand for too long.” Yoongi’s heart ached as he heard her soft confession. He knew all too well what her condition was and that he was the sole reason for it.
There wasn’t a day, an hour where he did not think about what he could have done differently with her. Maybe if he told her the truth at the very beginning, she’d let him woo her. But he’ll never know that. The damage was done, and he’ll have to build their relationship from scratch.
Yoongi hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching Y/N’s face for any sign of pain or discomfort.
“I’m sorry, Dove,” he whispered, his voice filled with regret. “I hate seeing you like this.”
Y/N gave him a weak smile. It wasn’t a warm smile, it was not genuine, and it certainly did not reflect the emotion Y/N was holding in.
“Then why lead me to this state?” Yoongi’s eyes filled with guilt, his grip on her hand tightening. For the first time, Yoongi rethought all the decisions he had made since he settled his eyes on her. There wasn’t a day he did not think about what would be different if he would’ve been honest with her. Would she fall in love with him?
“We don’t have time for that, Hyung.” The voice of his right-hand man echoed in his mind. He listened to him, and here they are. Broken.
“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Dove—” Yoongi’s tears threatened to fall as he watched the woman he loved struggle with the pain he had caused.
“And that there is way too much damage done, but I burn for you, and I always will.” She only listened to him, there was no need to answer.
“I will wait for you until you are ready.”
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“We had a deal.” Her eyes slowly flattered open upon hearing his low baritone voice. She gulped down carefully, wincing at the still evident pain in her throat. She squinted her eyes at the change of lighting. She was wondering whether he would pay her visit. Several weeks passed and here he is. Kim Namjoon in his full glory, ready to get on her nerves.
“Where’s Yoongi?” Looking at the empty side of the bed she asked, not minding his words. He sneaked late in the night, thinking she was dead asleep and left her room too early in the morning. She has let him do that. It will only help her in the future.
“We had a deal,” Namjoon repeated, his voice firm and unwavering as he was seated in the armchair next to her bed, his gaze fixed on her with a mixture of concern and disappointment.
“And we still have a deal, don’t we?” She asked rather mockingly, her tone laced with sarcasm, pulling herself up to sit on the bed. Her eyes still not used to the lighting she blindly reached to a glass of water that was on the nightstand to ease her throat of the uncomfortable dryness burning inside.
“You attempted to kill yourself. I’d count that as violating our deal,” he stated bluntly. Y/N’s jaw clenched as she listened to Namjoon's accusation, a surge of defensiveness rising within her. The man and his tactics irked her.
She knew she had pushed the boundaries of their agreement, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it. Not to him at least.
“It was a moment of weakness, okay? I’ve had enough at that point.” Namjoon’s gaze remained steady, unmoved by her protestations. As if he saw right through her.
“Do you want us to throw you into a mental house? Is that what you’re trying to do?”
Y/N’s grip tightened around the glass of water as she fought to control the rising tide of anger within her.
“You all would have to throw yourself in first.”
She refused to back down, refused to let him belittle her struggles or dictate her fate. Y/N’s grip tightened around the glass of water, her knuckles turning white with tension as she fought to control the rising tide of anger within her. Namjoon’s words felt like a slap in the face, a harsh reminder of her own vulnerability and the consequences of her actions.
He chuckled at her response. The sound grating on her nerves like nails on a chalkboard.
“As I said, it was a moment of weakness, there was no different means to stop him—”
“Maybe if you didn’t provoke him before, he wouldn’t do it, Y/N.”
“I did not provoke him. I did not ask for any of this,” she spat, her voice trembling with fury. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she glared at Namjoon. She wanted to throw the glass at him so badly.
“Yet here we are.”
“Here we are indeed,” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “And whose fault is that, Namjoon? Certainly not mine.”
Namjoon’s jaw tightened at her defiance, his gaze hardening as he met her eyes with unwavering intensity.
“You’re just like him, Y/N,” he muttered darkly. “Stubborn. Refusing to see reason. Refusing to accept help. We had a deal goddammit—”
“With all due respect, Namjoon. I do not trust you nor your intentions to actually send me over to America once the time is up.” He had expected her defiance, but her lack of trust cut deeper than he cared to admit. He did not know why in detail. But it was for the greater good that the Buin and Kkangpae will be a power role model couple for their clan.
“You don’t trust me?” he repeated, his voice low and tinged with disbelief. Ridiculous. 
“Trust is earned, Namjoon,” she retorted, her voice unwavering despite the tremor in her heart. “And you haven't exactly given me a reason to trust you.” His frustration was simmering beneath the surface.
“Aight.” He said after some time of thinking.
“What do you want?” He asked, intrigued about what would make her trust him. Y/N’s gaze narrowed; her expression guarded as she considered Namjoon’s question.
“Assurances.”
“Name it.”
“I want Xiaoli, Kai, Daiyu and her son out of here. Somewhere overseas. Unharmed and not to be bothered again.” His expression conflicted as he weighed the implications of her request. The smirk on his face was still present.
“Xiaoli is betrothed to Taehyung, and she is so of her own volition. You yourself gave them your blessing, Buin.” Y/N’s tongue clicked unsatisfied with his words.
“Give her the courtesy and at least give her the chance to decide, without your influence.” He knew she had a point, even if he was reluctant to admit it. The power dynamics within their world were complex, and he had grown accustomed to wielding his influence with impunity. The holy seven always did so.
“Fine,” he conceded, his tone grudging. “I’ll make sure Xiaoli has a chance to make her own decisions. But you’re pushing your luck, Yoongi may not—,”
“He will agree.” She stated resolutely. Namjoon’s eyebrows rose slightly at Y/N’s bold assertion, surprised by her unwavering confidence.
“Very well,” Namjoon replied, his voice tinged with resignation. “I’ll speak to Yoongi and I’ll arrange for them to sail away once Kai is well enough to travel, but only if you promise to uphold your end of the deal and it’s new conditions”
“What conditions?” She asked, utterly confused. This was about him earning her trust. But of course, Kim Namjoon would somehow manage to manipulate his way through.
“Forgive him, Y/N. That’s what I’m asking for. It’s been weeks since Kai can stand on his own feet. Talk, walk, eat, everything. Why’d you still not uphold your side of the deal?”
A weighty silence enveloping the room as Y/N processed his words. The idea of forgiving Yoongi felt like an impossible task, a betrayal of everything she had endured at his hands. She could not find a word that would describe what she feels now.
“Holding onto anger and bitterness will only continue to weigh you down. Death would be redemption, yet you are still here, living and breathing by God’s will and doing.”
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I N T E R L O G U E
“When is he planning to do it?” She spoke softly, her words laced with urgency and caution.
“I don’t know-” she murmured, swallowing the lump in her throat. “But I can’t bear the thought of Bo Cheng witnessing such a horror.”
Daiyu’s eyes darted around the dimly lit corridor, wary of lurking shadows and prying ears.
“We must leave this place, Y/N,” she urged, her voice a breathless whisper.
“I can’t-” Y/N’s voice caught in her throat, her gaze dropping to the floor as a wave of despair washed over her.
“—not yet, at least.” Daiyu placed a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder.
“But you will-” Y/N took a shaky breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Daiyu’s gaze hardened.
“-And you’ll take Bo Cheng with you. Even Ma if we will be clever enough.”
“Xiaoli?” she inquired cautiously.
“Xiaoli doesn’t share our sentiments. Taking her against her will would make me no better than them.” Daiyu nodded, understanding the complexity of Y/N’s feelings towards Xiaoli.
“He won’t let us all go,” said Daiyu, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. In normal circumstances, he would never give a green pass to anyone from inside of their clan. Especially, to the closer circle. But the circumstances were not normal. And as he spoke himself numerous times at this point. He will do everything to keep her by his side.
“He will. If I promise to stay.”
“But that’s-”
“It’s not my time yet, Daiyu—” she interrupted her quickly.
“But it will come.”
.
.
.
.
.
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©pennyellee. please do not repost
author's note: this took me longer than I thought, mainly coz of life getting in my way, but nonetheless, chapter 8 is here. So far, this is the most I'm sceptical about chapter so yeah, nervous to put it out. Yoongi's got a taste of his own medicine to some degree and maybe finally he'll start to see things differently. Do you believe Yoongi can change for her? Hmm? We will see. Enjoy the chapter. Thank you for reading and continuing to read the story 𖦹 ☼ ⋆。˚⋆ฺ ♡
PS: I hope you don't hate Xiaoli entirely coz I have a filler one-shot mapped out in my head 𖦹 ☼ ⋆。˚⋆ฺ ♡
shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter!
Love you all!! ♥
Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥
keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction. Nor in this case, I'm a medical professional.
let's be friends chummers 🫧♡ ︎
lots of love, p.
PPS: accounts highlighted cannot be tagged, so if you want to be in the tag list, please make sure you have it allowed in your settings. 𖦹 ☼ ⋆。˚⋆ฺ ♡
tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts - @seonghwaexile
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muwapsturniolo · 20 hours
Text
✯𝐖𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐞✯
chris x black earthy/boho!reader
IN WHICH…we take a dive into the relationship between Chris and y/n, and how their love for each other is beyond compare.
WARNINGS: just fluff.
PT.1
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Y/n wasn’t looking for a relationship and she sure as hell wasn’t looking for love either. So she was shocked when Chris Sturniolo came out of nowhere and fell into her life.
She remembers how they met.
She was at a flea market, looking for new decor in her home. She had her mind set on a few plants and maybe even some artwork from a local artist. She was looking at a jewelry stand when Chris noticed her.
He recognized her instantly, having watched almost all of her YouTube videos. He stood in place, watching her carefully examine the handmade jewelry. He walked over to her, calling out her name, however, she couldn’t hear him over Erykah Badu singing in her ear. He ended up tapping her on her shoulder which caught her attention.
She took off the green headphones and stared at him, “could I help you with something?”
The two talked and talked, and talked. Chris ended up ditching his friend and brothers to walk around with her. He bought her food, talked about music, and even traded numbers with her.
From there the two became close, close enough to develop mutual crushes on each other. The only problem was that Y/n was scared.
She was scared with how fast she was falling for Chris. This was something new, something fresh, something innocent.
She wasn’t innocent.
She was damaged.
She knew that her mind was fucked up due to her previous relationship. She hated it, she wished Chris was her first love. She wished she wasn’t fucked up so she wouldn’t hurt him in the long run.
But she wanted it, she wanted whatever it was her and Chris were blossoming into. She wanted it for better or worse.
Chris saw her hesitancy when it came to him, he saw the battle going on in her mind when it came to her emotions towards him. So he did his best to prove he’s all in.
He did his best to give words of reassurance, he sent her flowers on her upload days to show her support, he searched for limited edition vinyls for her, He even made her a care basket when he realized she was on her period.
Y/n appreciated it all, she never took it for granted. She felt herself changing since Chris came into her life and for that,
He had her love. He had it and he could have it forever, because he earned it.
She vibed with Chris, she vibed with him on a higher frequency than she ever has with anyone else. They were so in sync in certain areas of life it scared her at first, but she grew to love it.
She loved what she had found with Chris and she vowed to herself to never do anything to mess it up. Little did she know Chris made the same vow.
They just had this motion between them that everyone could see, it was powerful, admirable, emotional.
They had the juice.
And they knew it.
There were times when Y/n would stare at Chris, thinking about how he magically appeared in her life and flipped it upside down for the better. She would run it back, replaying the moment he tapped her on her shoulder and smiled.
She replayed all the memories they’d created, the laughter, the new experiences, even their first time having sex.
She came to the conclusion that he was the one.
And she was back to being scared.
She couldn’t believe how fast she fell and connected with him, it drove her crazy but she still wanted him.
Chris felt the same way.
It was no secret Chris had a problem with relationships, never being able to commit due to his own fear of being hurt. He was prone to self-sabotaging.
But she made it easy for him the same way he made it easy for her. She wasn’t like the rest of the girls in LA who only cared about fame money, and clothes.
She didn’t care about his sneakers or how he dressed or how much money he made. She loved him for him, she loved his family, she loved... And all he could do was be grateful and return the favor.
They understood eachother, the were on the same wavelength, they were twin flames.
They had the juice.
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AHHHH IM SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT BUT I WAS JUST TRYING TO CREATE THE VIBE OF THE SONG.
TAGLIST 🍑
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@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore @stasiesturn @loljackwasfat @nicksmainbitch @ninacutebee16 @mayhem-72 @sturniolosmind @breeloveschris @mattslolita @mattsivy @guccifrog @hysteria-things @mrssturnioloo @koris_009 @patscorner @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @nickuniversity @luverboychris @thenickgirl @riasturns @imwetforyourmom @junnniiieee07 @realuvrrr @milasturniolo @fwskullz @hearts4tatemcrae @mattandchrismakemewett @chrissystur @canthelpit0 @strnilo @demistyles @junovrsmp4 @heartsforchrisandmatt @maryx2xx @vecnasnose0 @freshsturns @xxsturnxx @pettydollie @crimsoncorpse @sturnssmuts @sturniolovoid @m0r94n @freshsturns @adoreindie @sturnstvr
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nunalastor · 2 days
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Dark Forced Family/Overlord Found Family
Having Vox on the team might seem like an odd choice given his bad relationship with Alastor, but what sold it for the overlords that the risk was worth it was the power Vox shares with Alastor over radio waves. Vox has a way of communicating with Alastor that none of the others have, because Lucifer may have suppressed Alastor's magic into nonexistence, but he can't outright destroy it, that would cause unimaginable damage, and Lucifer may be crazy but even he knows taking that step is too far. But that means Alastor's power still exists, just suppressed, so if Vox can get close to him, he might be able to get a sense of what they're dealing with.
This wasn't relevant until the final fight with Lucifer. Zestial and Carmilla as the oldest overlord and the one with a shit ton of angel-killing weapons are at the front, with Rosie and Vox taking care of Alastor's body. Vox can feel how weak Alastor has become, he won't last the night if this continues, but that power is still there under the surface, he can feel it and if he really looked, he could see all of Alastor's pain.
He can't speak for Alastor, he can't wake Alastor on his own even if he tried. All he can do is use that to switch off safe mode and beat it into the king's head just how much pain Alastor is in. He is the overlord of technology, and one of his skills is communication, he can rub that in Lucifer's face as much as he has to if it means Alastor survives.
The fight isn't easy, between coming up with songs on the dime, Carmilla and Zestial dancing around, Charlie trying to defuse, and Rosie taking care of Alastor (she would fight but Alastor needs some blood to drink and to be as far from this fight as possible), but they see Vox's methods slowly making Lucifer break down. Vox doesn't need to say anything, just the aggression he is fighting with and a power Lucifer would know he shares with Alastor is enough to get the point across.
Until eventually, Lucifer stops fighting, and he seems to be on the brink of crying, though none of them can tell because his hat is shadowing most of his face. Before any of them can decide what to do, Lucifer quietly asks, "You'll take care of him?" None of them know how to answer to that, but figured the worst that would happen being honest was a continuation of the fight, so they confirm.
Lucifer snaps his fingers, and a gold chain around Alastor's neck appears, only to shatter in Lucifer's grip. Alastor's soul was free, and that included his magic that without warning caused the entire tower and hotel to be caught in a violent explosion.
The overlords get their bearings only a few moments later, looking around the hotel in ruin, all of its residents and the royal family whisked away to safety, and Alastor protected by a shield but left behind. Nobody knows what to think of what just happened. Was that it? Lucifer wised up and after everything... just stopped? What was going on?
Zestial convinces them the logistics don't matter right now. Alastor has his soul and his magic back, but he has yet to awaken. It would be best to provide him with emergency treatment either in the safety of Vee Tower or Cannibal Town.
The other overlords agree and Carmilla carries Alastor to get him to a hospital, but Zestial lingers behind for a moment, looking behind him and seeing Roo standing there. He thanks her for her assistance, and that is when Roo holds up a contract in her hand. "I was just fulfilling my end of the deal."
What Zestial hadn't told the others was that he had made a deal with Roo, selling his soul so she would say and do anything to convince Lucifer to let Alastor go, all he would need was a final push. He had a good run, and even if the deal was going to damn him in secret, at least his friends and his grandson had been able to survive.
👀
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homelanderbutbig · 2 days
Text
A Quaint House With a White-Picket Fence (G/T Homelander x Reader)
1139 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.
You teach Homelander about Animal Crossing.
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With a rare day off, you decided to spend your afternoon doing something you haven't been able to for a while, play Animal Crossing. Homelander has never played a video game before, and he has made it perfectly clear to you that he has zero interest in doing so. He is also not shy at showing his jealousy at how engrossed you get playing your silly games instead of paying attention to him. As a result, you usually only play for short periods of time when you're alone.
Today was different. You have been doing nothing all day except play Animal Crossing, just like you used to do before moving into the Tower. You don't even hear him storming into the penthouse, in one of his signature grumpy moods. Grumbling irritatedly seeing you lounging on the couch, he can't believe you aren't acknowledging him and inviting him over for a cuddle like you always do. It's not like he's easy to miss.
Homelander walks over in front of the couch, attempting to make a point with his purposefully loud footsteps. And yet, you still don't even look up as he looms over you. Rolling his eyes, he places his hands on his hips as he taps his fingers on his belt. He can feel his anger bubbling to the surface, with the annoying little beeps and boops coming from the game only serving to aggravate him further.
Finally, he's had enough at watching you ignore him. With a motion so fast you barely even register what is happening, he picks you up so he can lie down on the couch, keeping you on top of him. His arms are wrapped immovably around your waist while his big head is snuggled firmly on your shoulder. He lets out a deep huff from his nose, making certain that you know how exasperated you've made him.
You stay there for a moment of tense silence, waiting for him to say something first. You feel bad for not even noticing him, but you want to see where he is mentally before you make a move.
"What is this?" he eventually asks you, contempt dripping from his voice. If you won't stop playing this dumb thing, he may as well learn what it is.
"Animal Crossing," you tell him, laughing as you practically feel him rolling his eyes. Ah, he's in one of these moods.
"It's a game where you get to play in this cute village and just do whatever," you try to clarify. "You can fish, catch bugs, decorate your house, and make friends with your neighbours. It's relaxing."
"…Why?" he retorts. He is baffled at how doing things in this game that you could do in real-life would have you so fixated.
"I dunno, it's hard to explain," you respond. "There's no stress in this world, no time-limits or deadlines. It's like… an escape."
Homelander is hushed as he contemplates your answer. The appeal still doesn't make a lot of sense to him.
"What… are you playing as?" he enquires, brow furrowing slightly. Your tiny avatar appears to be a boy with slicked-back blonde hair, wearing a blue shirt with an eagle design.
"I tried making you," you answer honestly, with a brief giggle. You click a mysterious button on your gaming device, and suddenly this character is smiling wide back at him.
"You… made me?" he ponders, rubbing his head into the nape of your neck.
"Yeah, I normally just make myself but… I wanted to see how you'd look too," you smile, returning his nuzzle. "You turned out cute, right?"
He sighs, not dignifying you with a response. This facsimile is nowhere near his level of perfection, but at least you tried.
"What's that noise?" he mumbles. "It sounds like a bug."
"What direction is it coming from?" you respond. "It might be a mole cricket, I haven't caught one of those yet."
"To the left," he guides you, using his super hearing to easily discern the origin of the bug's droning call. "Under that rock."
Homelander watches as you pull out your shovel and hit the rock, causing a cricket to pop out which you swiftly catch with your net.
"Look at that! We caught a mole cricket!" you exclaim.
"…Now what?" he queries. He doesn't understand why you seem to excited over this, it's just a disgusting, insignificant insect.
"Now we take it to the museum, so Blathers can put it on display," you reply.
"And what, we get a reward for it?" he asks.
"No, it's just for fun!" you attempt to explain. "We can get a golden net if we catch all the different kinds of bugs though!"
Once again, he feels flabbergasted by your reasonings. This is just one of those weird human things of yours that he figures he will never understand, no matter how many questions he asks.
Homelander decides to stay quiet for a while, simply observing as you go about your activities. Seeing you run around this confined space, pointlessly catching more bugs and fish. Listening to you tell him which animal villagers are your favourites, showing him your house and how you decorated every room.
Strangely, the longer he watches you play, the more relaxed he starts to feel. It's weird, seeing your miniature caricature of him running around this fake town. He's just spending his days trapped in this virtual world, living in a quaint house with a white-picket fence, surrounded by friendly neighbours… without anybody staring at him like he's a freak… without a care in the world.
He's living the life Homelander always wished he could.
"Do you think we could ever live in a place like this?" he contemplates in a somber voice. The genuineness of his thought takes you by surprise.
To be honest, you don't have an answer for him. Vought has such a tight grip on every aspect of his life, you aren't sure if he'll ever be able to be free of their influence. He's never known what it's like to be 'normal', his entire existence has been dictated for him, his every opinion pre-calculated for what's best for the company.
"Hey, why don't we spend the weekend at your cabin?" you suggest, trying to pivot the heavy conversation away to something more tangible. You put your game down to caress his cheek, feeling him angle his head into your touch. "Just the two of us, no schedules or worries."
You can feel a little smile spread across your shoulder at your proposal. Homelander tightens his hold on you ever so slightly, cherishing the feeling of your small stature in his arms. He's glad you aren't able to see his face right now, letting him hide the fact that he's blinking away forming tears.
"Yeah," he whispers. "I'd like that".
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Note
Retro Reader is attentive, wants to ensure they can help they people they love the best they can, so for situations where they can't just listen/observe what they need i see them going to the others and asking questions, some which no one can answer because the trip never thought to try before.
Questions like:
Is Vox rain proof?
Can Vox hypnotise himself?
Does Val like chewing holes in fabric?
Has Val ever been caught in something like a sticky fly trap?
If Velvette's a doll can she do the 180 head spin (asks this after they see Alastor do it)
If Vox started out with a Box tv head then where is it now as is he still connected to it?
I could also see Retro testing things on themselves and scaring the Vs constantly with the weird things they do 'for science'.
Velvette scared when they see Retro drink a poison, as she didn't know Retro would be fine.
Valentino and Vox forgetting Retro is a Sea Bunny when they fall in the shark tank and Retro doesn't come up for air (funnier if this is how Retro learns the fact as a sea bunny sinner they can breath underwater this way)
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“Hey. Hey!” I said, poking Valentino.
“What is it now, mi cariño?” He asked, looking down at me. He seemed tired.
“Is Vox rain proof?”
“Yes,” he said with a nod. “I imagine it’d be a very poor feature to have if he couldn’t handle water. It wouldn’t be particularly easy to be an Overlord if a drop of water could kill you.”
“Oh,” I said. I paused for a moment. “Can he hypnotize himself?”
“No,” Val said with a sigh. “Not that I know of. Not unless he wants to.”
“Darling, Val’s busy,” Vox said, appearing besides me. He took my arm and led me away. “He’s working on a script right now, you’ll only break his concentration.”
“And he’ll start chewing holes in his shirt again if he gets stressed,” I said with a nod. I let Vox walk me around the tower as I imagined how hard it would be to fix his clothes again. “Does he ever get stuck in those little sticky fly traps?”
“We don’t really have any of them, so no,” Vox said, with a small smile. “You’re awfully curious today, aren’t you? Any particular reason?”
I shrugged. “I saw Velvette turn her head all the way around today and I started wondering what traits you guys share with the things your based off of. Speaking of which, what happened to your old head?”
He blinked, then looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear.”
“You know, the box TV you had back when you and Alastor were friends!” I said lightly.
He shook his head and gripped my arm tighter. “I haven’t a clue what you mean,” he said pointedly. I paused, picking up on his tone, then let the topic drop.
(And yes, everything else Anon mentioned would definitely happen.)
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