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#Thanks for all your support over the years!
mclqren · 8 hours
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SPORTING SECRETS ★ CL16
PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!footballer!reader
SUMMARY ✦ you are a famous footballer & you have been dating charles in secret for some time, but your fans start to piece together the clues when they spot him at one of your matches [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ cursing
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ reader plays for the arsenal women's team. the fc i've used is alessia russo, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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liked by leahwilliamsonn, bethmead_, and 214,990 others
yourusername match ready for this weekend ❤️
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user1 i literally aspire to be like you when i get older
user2 she does it againnn!!
user3 london is RED ❤️❤️
liked by yourusername
bethmead_ my girllll 💘
yourusername love youu!!
user4 i look up to her sm
user5 sameee!!
user6 HOW IS SHE SINGLE STILLL
user7 literally NO CLUE HOW
charles_leclerc
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( caption one: guess where i am 😍 | caption two: london 🇬🇧 )
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liked by kimlittle1990, charles_leclerc, and 252,111 others
yourusername walking back after a victory this weekend:
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user12 LETS FUCKING GOOO
user13 KNEW YOU COULD DO ITTT!!
leahwilliamsonn ❤️❤️
yourusername foreverrrr! ❤️
user14 is no one going to talk about how CHARLES LECLERC is in her likes??
user15 i swear he's been following her for a while, though?
user16 yup!! but this is the first time they're actually interacting with each other on the internet
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liked by bethmead_, charles_leclerc, and 292,400 others
yourusername best end to the weekend!! ft millie 💘
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user17 MILLIE IS BACKKKK!!
user18 ugh y/n is such a cutie i can't
user19 OKAY BUT WHO IS THAT GUYYY??
user20 Y/N HAS A MAN??
user21 i'm kindaaa surprised but not really bc LOOK AT HER
bethmead_ so who's the man that's replaced me
yourusername shhh look away ❤️
charles_leclerc millieee!!
yourusername my fav 💘
user22 THE COMMENT FROM CHARLES HELLO?
user23 my two worlds colliding is this a fever dream.
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,101,767 others
tagged yourusername
charles_leclerc my y/n - aka the best footballer i've ever met (other than myself, of course) i'm so happy we can finally share our love with the rest of the world. forever and always, i love you ❤️
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user25 WHERE IS THAT GIRL ON TWITTER BC SHE MUST BE PUNCHING THE AIR RN.
user26 SOMEONE GIVE HER A MEDAL
user27 AHHH SHES SO CUTE!!
user28 NEW PARENTS UNLOCKED
user29 wait can someone tell me who she is??
user30 y/n l/n!! she's a footballer for the arsenal wfc and she's sooo fucking perfect!
user29 ahh!! she's so gorgeous! 💗💗
yourusername the way you posted this without my permission is crazyyy...
charles_leclerc had to let the world know at some point 😘
yourusername i love you tooo! (the caption abt you being better is def a lie but okay!)
charles_leclerc excuse me i dominated the game??
yourusername how - by falling flat on ur ass??
user30 OKAY THEIR DYNAMIC>>>
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liked by charles_leclerc, bethmead_, and 401,928 others
tagged charles_leclerc
yourusername charlieee my love!! thank you so much for supporting me for just over a year (crazy how no one managed to clock us for it until now), you mean so so much to me! p.s. if you ever want to say ur better than me at football, take a look at the last pic. you're welcome. 😊😊
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user31 STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT TOOK US SO LONG TO FIGURE OUT
user32 FR like we're meant to be so diligent??
user33 AW MY HEARTTT
user34 icl him in that first pic>>> WOW
bethmead_ still can't believe you replaced me :(
yourusername no one could ever replace you, come over rn 😘
bethmead_ omw!!
charles_leclerc i love you
yourusername LOVE YOU MORE
user35 my heart can't handle this sedate me now.
charles_leclerc WHY THE LAST PIC
yourusername i get to insult you every once in a while 💘
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karagatan02 · 1 day
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જ⁀ 𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐒 , various !
synopsis: when you bring your friend to ikea to help you pick furniture for your new apartment. Pinning ensues amongst other flustering events.
including: zhongli, childe, diluc, kaeya, thoma,
side comments: pure fluff! also, please buy your furniture second-hand and support small businesses! avoid fast furniture when you can (ikea) and make mindful purchases. let's briefly imagine a perfect world where ikea is ethical and sustainable.
extra: mentions and implications of marriage, gn reader, favourites: zhongli & kaeya word count: 1,784
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𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈
Being the friend he is, Zhongli would happily accompany you.
He is the type to have his hands behind his back as he follows you around. Lingering close yet respectfully enough.
If you ask him for consolation, he will be honest in the most tender way possible:
"Ah... perhaps this colour will be more suitable considering the lighting."
"You did need a new couch, right? I believe you will like this one."
You blink and then your cart is full.
Zhongli's advice is acutely precise, however, expect to exceed your original budget by another ghastly $500.
Not that he suggests buying unnecessary items, rather, he suggests quality, material and construction.
Begins speaking a tad excessively about colour coordination and lightning.
He will help you lift any furniture parts if need be!
Gradually, the trip would become a joint effort by the two of you. As if you've been shopping and living together for years.
"Look at the dining table ( Name )," Zhongli commented. The lighting of the room glittered above, illuminating your face slightly as your hands glide over the wood varnish. "It's wonderful, isn't it? You'd be able to hold all the dinner parties you wanted."
You smile gingerly, and soon you are standing next to him by the kitchen sink. "Definitely, Childe would no longer have to sit on the floor."
Zhongli chuckles and you share a teasing grin. "At least we picked out a table already- much cheaper."
Zhongli raises an eyebrow, "Oh? Perhaps we can consider this one instead?"
"Personally, I think you should agree with him," spoke an employee- a soft-spoken elderly woman- "I remember when I first bought my fiancee's dining table- fun times!"
"Oh ma'am we're not-"
"Yes, my fiancee and I do agree," Zhongli gazes towards you're slightly flushed figure and smiles gently, "Yes dear?"
You blink for a few moments; gaining your footing before replying smoothly, "Why of course, how could I not love?"
You don't notice it, however, Zhongli shares a faint blush as he later pretends to cough in his fist.
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𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄
Childe has zero taste in furniture.
His mom would choose the furniture while he used his card.
Browsing through the showrooms and picking furniture is not how he would choose to spend his afternoon, however, he'll try for you!
In this case- it's the thought that counts.
If you need help reaching or lifting anything he'll do it readily.
Don't have a cart or bag? (There were lots) Childe will hold it all for you!
It becomes an inner competition to some extent to cover up for his obvious lack of skill in furniture and home design in hopes of impressing you.
“Excuse me young man, can you please reach the duvet covers for me up top?” asks a elderly man, an embarrassed smile gently plastered on his lips.
Childe turns his head towards the man and flashes a hearty grin, “Of course.”
With ease, Childe grabs the duvet set and hands it to him, “Ah, thank you,” the man pauses before speaking, his eyes in thought, “might I ask something?”
Childe blinks and replies, subtle curiosity beneath his lighthearted tone, “Go on.”
“Have you asked your partner out yet?
Childe fumbles a bit and the elderly man heaves a near boisterous laugh. "I'm taking that as a no, ay? Ah, young couples! I might not have the sharpest eyes anymore, but you've been lookin' at them since the kitchen showroom!"
Before Childe could express a response, the man pats his back and smiles. "Best of luck! I'm sure they'll say yes."
The man then ambles away and from a distance, Childe can see his small figure fade into the throng.
"Hey Childe! Are you alright?"
"Oh... um yeah!" prompted Childe, "Is there anything else you need?"
You shake your head, your fingers scrolling through the list you made, "That should be it. Are you sure you're okay? If you'd like I could hold the vase?"
Childe smiles while his bright blue eyes pool into yours, "No I'm good, let's head to check out."
The two of you saunter to the check-out counter side by side; bantering with each other. Childe's gaze never leaving yours.
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𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐑
Diluc is not well-versed in design and colour. However, he has a keen eye for both style, price and functionality, unbeknownst to him.
You were hesitant to ask him if he could accompany you as it is without a doubt that Diluc Ragnvindr is a busy man.
Diluc himself shared hesitancy for opposing reasons.
Diluc has lived with himself and has found his dwelling to be dull in comparison to the liveliness and hospitality your former apartment held. Thus, Diluc wondered if he could be of any help.
Nevertheless, you reassured him that you wanted company regardless of his skills.
Contrary to his words, Diluc was quite valuable, especially when navigating the place.
"I found the blanket you were interested in earlier, do you still want it?"
"The colour is rather flattering... but it is your choice! Um... please don't mind me."
"Do you need help?"
Diluc doubted his opinion, however, you found yourself agreeing with him several times.
You and Diluc were currently sitting by the opposite edge of a bed, your hands inches apart.
"A comfortable bed isn't it?" you bounce on the bed a little, a smile reaching your lips, "And the mattress is only $200, a king too! I can't believe you found this deal-"
Diluc does not hear your voice, it faded just as the lights mellowed and the sensations of the blanket against his calloused hands grew fuzzy.
"... Hey Diluc?"
"Ah, yes," Diluc coughs before asking, "I'm sorry what were you saying?
You smile, "It's all good! I was just explaining how I wouldn't need such a large bed for myself."
Diluc conveys a slightly puzzled expression, "How so? If you're worried about how to carry it into the apartment then you do know that I'll assist you-"
You shake your head fervently before replying, "Well thank you Diluc! But really you don't have to-"
"Oh no, I insist."
You smile winsomely before carefully replying, "It's just... me in the apartment. I'd understand if I was living with someone- but it's not worth it in my opinion."
Diluc pauses, contemplating before replying steadily, "I believe you deserve the mattress..." There is a tentative gap between his words before he follows up, "Perhaps I... ah never mind, let's get going. You wanted to eat at Chef Xianling's restaurant for dinner right? My treat."
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𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇
So you invited Kaeya?
Expect relentless teasing and a carefree-complacent attitude.
However, as much as Kaeya is there for fun, he will readily assist you- not without a tease, however.
"Oh ho? Need my help?"
In regards to style and class... Kaeya can pull himself together.
However, similar to Diluc, there is a dullness to his home.
In fact, Kaeya rarely spends time in his own home: he bounces from place to place. Never lingering longer than is needed or comfortable. It is like an ever-present itch.
Yet, your home has become Kaeya's home too. Unbeknownst to you however.
It is natural for both of you.
Your home has become the longest place he has spent in. He has his space in your home, he even has a toothbrush holder and resident blanket; removing Kaeya from your home would cause an ineffable void.
Regardless of the previous facts, you genuinely invited Kaeya to come for help and company.
Kaeya makes the process entertaining! Instead of contemplating the price tags incessantly, Kaeya will smoothly subdue your worries by toying with the utensils and playing hide-and-seek in the mirror section all while slipping the item you wanted in the bag.
The two of you let loose; unwinding like children who innocently play in the kid's bedroom showhome despite being strangers to each other.
"Kaeya... do we really need this mirror?" you question dubiously.
Kaeya shares a winsome grin. "Why of course," he then gingerly places his hands on your shoulders and leans in slightly, "It holds a rather charming reflection, does it not?"
You gaze at him and sigh, "Charming? You always find ways to flatter yourself."
Kaeya merely smiles. The two of you peer into the mirror: the reflection of two souls gazing back all while Kaeya surmises.
It wasn't himself that he was referring to.
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𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀
You're in for a treat!
You will (quite literally) get ice cream afterwards.
Thoma possesses all the skills in the "art of making a home."
Need deals or a lower price? Thoma already has a list. What about colour and style? He has a magazine and Pinterest board ready. What about functionality and material? Don't fret! He knows all the washing labels and what goes best with your lifestyle.
Tell him the night before and he is packed and loaded.
Thoma is absolutely thrilled that you invited him.
Shopping for any household items is delightful for Thoma, even more so when the two of you are browsing through all the showrooms and inspecting each countertop.
His favourite section is the kitchen.
If you have a specific budget in mind, Thoma will ensure that not a dollar goes beyond it and he will keep you accountable as well!
However, staying within the budget while scouring the store takes a significant amount of time.
Hence, instead of another $100 added to the receipt, expect another three hours.
The two of you will heave a big sigh when you finally sit down in the car.
Nevertheless, it is all lighthearted and relaxing as the two of you reenacting imagining a space together.
"We'd set the tables over there-" remarked Thoma as he pointed his finger towards the dining table, "And we can house our pans here- it would be so since to have them hanging instead of in the cabinet."
"Browsing through the kitchens is always fun," added a mother, her arms cradling her baby, "Are the two of you living together?"
You chuckle and Thoma's cheeks grow rosy. You then reply amused, "Oh no, he's a friend of mine who I asked to come along."
The mother then shares an embarrassed smile, "Oh I'm so sorry! That was so wrong of me... if the two of you are looking for a hanging pan rack then I remember seeing an installation piece down in the marketplace."
"Thank you," replied Thoma, a smile pressed on his lips, "We'll be sure to check it out!"
As the mother saunters ambles away, Thoma mutters under his breath, "Maybe we should live together..."
"What was that?"
"Oh ah! Nothing," Thoma scratches the back of his neck before responding brightly, "Do you want me to write the rack on the list now?"
masterlist
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hxxsxxngx · 3 days
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JAKE 심재윤 - LOVE FROM AFAR
MINORS DNI
Word Count : 3.9k
Genre : SMUT, ANGST
Content : bar fight, jealousy, toxic ex, mention on infidelity, unprotected sex, oral f receiving, praising, creampie, implied consumption of alcohol, sloppy make out….. let me know if i missed anything!
Preview : Once Jake finds out that his girl of interest is single, who knows what measures he is willing to take it to protect her?
Authors Note : Thank you to whoever requested this, I definitely had fun writing it!
SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING if you want
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You were having a great night catching up with your buddies Felix and Bangchan at the local pub. It had been too long since you all got together like the old days. As they joked and reminisced about the past, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having such caring friends in your life.
Suddenly, Felix's friend Jake arrived, pulling up a chair to join your booth. You vaguely remembered meeting the scruffy-yet-handsome guy with a warm smile once or twice before at other hangouts. He seemed nice enough, if not a little quieter and awkward around you specifically.
As the four of you continued swapping stories and laughing over fresh rounds, something about Jake's furtive glances and blushing kept catching your eye. You couldn't deny the slightly giddy feeling it gave you to rendered this usually composed guy so flustered. He was pretty cute when he got all shy like that.
Maybe it was the liquid courage, or maybe you just felt emboldened by the positive energy. Whatever the reason, you decided to be a little flirty as you leaned in closer to Jake.
"So do you boys always get this rowdy, or am I just bringing out the wild side?" you teased with a wink.
Jake's eyes went wide as his cheeks flushed an even darker crimson. He seemed to be struggling to formulate a response as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Um...w-well, I uh, we don't want to...you know, shock you or anything--"
He was saved by the interruption of your phone ringing. Flashing an apologetic smile, you excused yourself from the booth to take the call. It was your boyfriend wanting to know if you were free later to come over and watch a movie.
"Yeah babe, I'll be there in a couple hours!" you replied affectionately before rejoining the group.
If you had turned back around just a few seconds sooner, you might have caught the way Jake's expression fell when he overheard you refer to your boyfriend. He shrunk back into himself, the brief moment of bravery evaporating.
Over the ensuing months, you noticed Jake never acted quite the same way again when you were around. He was polite and friendly, but also seemed to keep a distance, like he was afraid to let himself get too close. You figured he just wasn't someone who enjoyed casual flirting even in jest. Either way, it didn't really matter since you were happily taken anyway.
Until one day...you weren't anymore. Just like that, a two-year relationship came crashing down after you discovered your boyfriend's unfaithfulness. You were blindsided and devastated.
As you nursed your broken heart, Felix and Bangchan were there every step of the way, rallying around you with movie nights, distraction activities, and a steadfast supportive presence. True friends when you needed them most.
One evening a couple months later, you arrived at a dimly lit bar where the three of you normally met up. You were finally feeling like your old self again after weeks of sadness and anger. Ready to just be around your friends and enjoy a fun night out.
The moment you walked through the door, you heard a familiar voice call out from a booth off to the side.
"Hey! Over here!"
It was Jake, looking as handsome as you remembered even under the low lighting. He had stood up from the booth and was waving you over with a warm smile.
You couldn't help but feel a small flutter of nerves mixed with excitement. Despite the slight awkwardness that encounter at the pub, you always thought Jake seemed like a good guy deep down. And if he was here hanging out with Felix and Bangchan...maybe you could finally get to know him better without that weird tension.
As you reached the booth, exchanging greetings and hello hugs, you noticed Jake's arms linger around you perhaps a beat longer than necessary. And this time when he looked into your eyes, there wasn't a hint of shyness or restraint behind them.
"It's really great to see you out and about again," he murmured once you were all seated. "You're, uh...you're looking as beautiful as ever."
You felt your face warm at the sincere compliment, an unfamiliar bout of flustered energy starting to buzz within you. What was this all of a sudden?
"Uh thanks, Jake...you're not looking too bad yourself," you managed to reply, unable to stop yourself from chewing your lower lip nervously.
Felix and Bangchan traded looks like they were watching a private tennis match, wondering just how heated this newly charged atmosphere might get.
Before things could get too tense though, Felix cleared his throat and changed the subject, regaling you all with a story about a hilarious screw-up at his job earlier that week. You forced yourself to shift your gaze off Jake's intense stare and laugh along with the others.
By the end of the night, you almost felt...disappointed? Like there was some
elephant in the room you wished would address itself directly instead of all this subtext. You brushed it off as emotional vulnerability from your recent breakup making you read into things.
The weeks after, however, proved those suspicions false. Because every interaction, every hangout, every moment with the four of you together continued carrying the same electrifying undercurrent of tension, especially between you and Jake.
The way his warm eyes would linger on you when you laughed, the random innocent touches and grazed caresses that made your skin tingle, the undisguised admiration and want in his gaze when you caught him staring...it was all quickly becoming impossible to ignore or chalk up to simple friendliness.
You couldn't lie, you felt it too - that persistent, gnawing pull toward Jake growing stronger with each encounter. There was just something magnetic about his presence, his humor, his gentle teasing and care for your emotional wellbeing.
But you were still terrified of being vulnerable and opening yourself up again so soon after being burned. Especially to someone like Jake, who clearly had some very intense feelings starting to develop, if they weren't already there to begin with.
That fear reached a fever pitch one evening when the four of you were gathered at Felix's place before heading out. You had just finished getting ready in the bathroom when Jake poked his head in to ask if you needed any help with your hair or makeup.
"Sure, I could use another set of hands back here if you don't mind," you replied absentmindedly, turning away from the mirror to grab a comb.
The next thing you felt were Jake's strong hands gently gathering your hair as he positioned himself directly behind you. His broad chest was nearly pressed against your back, the warmth radiating off him in tantalizing waves.
"Here, let me..." he murmured in that deep, gravelly tone so close to your ear. You caught the intense look in his eyes through the mirror as his fingers deftly began running and separating through your locks.
Every brush of his knuckles against the nape of your neck made your heart skip a beat. The soft, even breaths puffing against your skin raised delicious goosebumps along your arms. And the smoldering, hooded gaze he was burning into you through the mirror reflection was quickly dampening your panties with arousal.
You were both entirely under each other's spells, the thick sexual tension swirling through the small bathroom like an intoxicating fog. All Jake would have to do is turn your chin and slant his lips over yours and you would have melted into a helpless puddle against him.
The trance was finally broken by a muffled shout from the other room of Felix yelling "You two good back there?"
As if getting doused with a bucket of cold water, you and Jake sprung apart, awkwardness and uncertainty crashing back in. You muttered a quick thanks before rushing out of the bathroom, flustered and needing to put some distance between the two of you before you did something reckless.
After tiptoeing around each other for a couple more weeks, you finally broke down one night and asked Felix what the deal was with Jake. Why he was giving you such intense, loaded vibes lately despite having barely interacted before.
Felix let out a long sigh before breaking the truth - Jake had been harboring a massive secret crush on you for years, long before you started dating your now-ex even. But he never acted on it or admitted those feelings because you were already in a committed relationship by the time you met him.
Now that you were newly single, however, all those long-simmering emotions and attractions were bubbling out from Jake at full force. He was struggling with wanting to pursue you, but also not wanting to make you uncomfortable or disrespect any boundaries while you were fresh out of your heartbreak.
You were stunned speechless, your mind swirling as you processed this information. All those small nuanced moments between you and Jake over the past couple of months finally clicked into place. How had you not seen it sooner?
More importantly...what did you want to do about it now? The thought of exploring those sparks between you and Jake made your heart race. But you were also still so freshly vulnerable from being crushed by betrayal and heartache. Could you really take that leap again so soon?
~~~~~
In the weeks that followed after Felix filled you in about Jake's long-standing romantic feelings, you couldn't stop mulling it over. Every time you saw Jake's warm smile or got pulled into his magnetic presence, your mind raced with the possibilities.
There was no denying the potent chemistry and tension that had been building between you two. Even before you knew about Jake's crush, you felt that persistent pull towards him, that fire simmering with every loaded gaze or innocent touch.
Now that you had context for what was truly driving that intensity from his end...it felt like the coals had been stoked into an inferno. You couldn't get Jake off your mind, couldn't stop imagining what it would feel like to finally act on those sparks.
The more you allowed yourself to lean into the fantasy, the more you realized you were falling for him too. Despite the all-too-fresh sting of betrayal, Jake's caring presence and unguarded desire for you were quickly healing those wounds.
Of course, you had reservations about opening yourself up again so soon. But Jake was clearly different - his intentions pure, his affections transparent. Maybe taking that terrifying leap would be worth it after all.
One night, after spending an evening together that had your skin tingling from lingering caresses and eye contact, you finally summoned the courage to go for it. As he walked you to your car, you spun around, grasped the front of his shirt, and pulled him into a searing kiss.
Jake instantly melted into you with a rumbling groan, his strong hands grasping at your waist to pull you flush against him. You lost yourselves in that fervent clash of lips and roaming touches, all those months of unresolved tension pouring out.
When you finally parted, cheeks flushed and chests heaving, the depths of Jake's gaze sparked with pure reverence and awestruck lust. No words were needed as you gazed at each other's swollen lips and tousled hair - you both knew everything had irreversibly changed in the most overwhelming way.
From that moment on, you and Jake were inseparable. You went from months of "what ifs" to not being able to keep your hands off each other. The slightest brush or heated look was enough to have you desperate to jump his bones at any opportunity.
For Jake, it was like a dream come true after pining from afar for so long. Finally being able to worship every perfect inch of you, to tangle his body with yours, to drink in your breathy moans and whimpers...he never wanted this haze to end.
You were both entirely drunk on each other, drowning in the depths of your smoldering passion. Any lingering fears or heartache you had were washed away by the passionate intensity Jake craved you with, how eternal his devotion felt.
Of course, such a whirlwind romance wasn't without ruffling some feathers. About two months into your torrid new relationship, you crossed paths with your ex at a local bar while out with friends.
"Well, well..." the snide voice called out as soon as they spotted you. "If it isn't my favorite dumped loser found someone newer, dumber, and even more desperate to settle for less."
You instinctively shrank back, feeling that old sense of shame and hurt bubble up despite Jake's arm protectively wrapped around you. But this time, you didn't have to face that menace alone.
Jake immediately stepped forward, jaw clenched as he attempted to keep his fury in check. "Why don't you do yourself a favor and get the hell out of here before I make you," he warned in a low, dangerous tone.
Your ex only scoffed, clearly finding amusement in watching Jake's anger boiling over. With a drunken saunter, they closed the gap between you, keeping their gaze locked on yours.
"Don't forget, I know you better than this sad rebound ever will," they taunted with a cruel smirk. "I know all the filthy little things that got you--"
Whatever nasty comment they hoped to sling next was cut off by Jake's hand violently shoving them backwards. Your ex's dumbfounded shock soon dissolved into equal rage as they came charging back at Jake, grabbing him by the collar as the two began exchanging shoves.
"Hey, hey! Break it up!" your other friends tried jumping in to separate the heated tussle, but not before your ex landed a hard punch square on Jake's cheekbone.
That was the final straw. Like some primal switch being flipped, Jake totally snapped. With a feral growl, he tackled your ex to the ground, taking a few more solid hits as the two rolled around in furious punches and choke holds.
"Jake! Oh my god, stop!" you cried out in horror, watching helplessly.
It wasn't until a handful of bouncers finally broke through to pull them apart that the violence ceased. Jake was dragged out back by a couple of the burly guards, clothes disheveled and sporting a split lip while the other patrons sneered at your ex being dragged out as well.
Your heart was still racing from the adrenaline and shock as you rushed out the back exit after Jake. He was leaning against the wall, chest heaving and knuckles bleeding from the brawl.
"Jake! Are you okay?" you rushed over, cradling his face to inspect the damage. He hissed at the contact against his wounded skin before melting into your touch with a heavy exhale.
Those stormy irises locked onto yours, slightly glazed but burning with pure longing and possession. "I'm so sorry, baby...I just..." he rasped, voice dripping with unrestrained desire. "I just couldn't stand the thought of that piece of shit being anywhere near you, talking to you that way..."
One of his hands slid up to tangle desperately in your hair while the other snaked around your lower back, pulling your hips flush against his hardening length. "You're mine now," he growled before capturing your mouth in a torrid, demanding kiss.
You opened for him with a heady whimper, the thrill of claiming this smoldering, dominant side of Jake setting your blood on fire. His tongue invaded greedily as he walked you backwards, pinning you against the wall with his body weighing deliciously against you.
~~~~~
Any care for location or being seen was abandoned as Jake's arousal ground shamelessly against your core, his big hands gripping and roaming with reckless possession. You gave back as good as you got - raking nails down his back, nipping at his full lips with moans muffled between heated clashes of tongue and teeth.
Just as the frenzied make-out was reaching a fever pitch, a loud clatter from behind the dumpster nearby caused you both to jump apart, chests heaving. Jake's eyes bored into yours, still glazed with lust but now mixed with frustration at the interruption.
"Get in the car," he rasped in a low rumble, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the parking lot. "We're going somewhere more private."
You eagerly followed, legs still wobbly from the dizzying heat coursing through you. The ride to Jake's apartment felt like an agonizing eternity with how badly you were both aching to crash together again. He kept one hand firmly planted on your thigh, thumb tracing maddening circles that had you squirming.
The second you crossed the threshold into his place, Jake pinned you against the door, claiming your lips in another heated, desperate clash. You melted into him as his talented fingers quickly divested you of your dress, palms roaming every newly exposed inch of skin.
You fumbled with his belt and jeans as he attacked the sensitive spots along your neck and collarbone with a trail of opened-mouth kisses. Each graze of his teeth and insistent suckle from those full lips had you whimpering in delirious need.
Somehow you managed to get Jake's pants undone, allowing his thick hardness to spring free as he kicked them off along with his shoes. You drank in a shuddering breath at the glorious sight of his arousal, already leaking with need for you.
Jake's heated gaze followed yours, a prideful smirk tugging at his swollen lips. "You like what you see, baby?" he rumbled, giving himself a slow, teasing stroke.
You bit your lip with a tiny nod, unable to tear your eyes away. That only made his cocky grin widen further as he leaned in close, beard tantalizingly scratching your jaw.
"I'm going to make you feel so good, make you remember that you belong only to me" he murmured, the deep timbre of his gravelly desire sending shivers straight to your core. "Let me worship every perfect inch of you, nice and slow..."
As if to emphasize his point, Jake trailed a series of torturously unhurried open-mouthed kisses down your neck and chest again before dropping to his knees. His smoldering gaze remained locked on yours as his fingers hooked into your soaked underwear and slowly dragged them down your trembling legs.
You were bare before him now, glistening arousal fully exposed to his ravenous stare. Jake's hands roamed back up the smooth skin of your thighs, close to your throbbing center yet making no move to provide relief just yet.
"Such a gorgeous sight..." he husked in reverence. "All mine."
Unable to take any more teasing, you carded your fingers through his thick locks as his lips ghosted nearer to your pussy. "Please, Jake..." you mewled desperately.
That was all the encouragement he needed before diving in. You cried out at the first swipe of Jake's talented tongue, back arching against the door as waves of electric pleasure flooded through you...
He was relentless, sucking harder and deeper, plundering your wet folds until his tongue was completely coated with your slick essence. You gasped loudly with an intense wave of pleasure, leaving you breathless and panting.
The rhythmic motion driving you insane until you suddenly broke down into violent, uncontrolled moans of ecstasy. It was over too soon though as Jake pulled away, sitting back on his heels with a self satisfied smile and dark eyes glittering.
He carefully took the wet, limp package in his large hand and gently stroked your slick slit. "You're gonna be so fucking ready for me tonight, sweetheart," he assured huskily. "Trust me. There's nothing you could possibly do that would turn me off."
And then he lowered himself over you, spreading the moisture around, filling you with such potent satisfaction that you almost screamed in bliss. Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist as Jake sank slowly and surely down until he could bury himself inside you easily. As he started slowly moving, you gripped his shoulders tightly with your thighs, your entire body tensing and relaxing under his weight. His hands tightened around your arms and shoulders to make sure you weren't trying to crawl away. He held still, letting your body adjust itself to his thickness until the feeling started to fade. As your legs relaxed, they found a more comfortable place to rest, and your stomach felt better about being full. After you got used to being filled up, he reached down to gently cup your tit in one large hand as he pressed himself even deeper, burying himself within you with one hard thrust. His long fingers caressed your soft skin, drawing groans from your lips with every flick of his finger.
With the most powerful thrusts, Jake filled you completely in one go, filling you entirely and filling every single space. For a moment it seemed like there wouldn't be enough room anymore in your womb; you'd never been so far gone before with anyone else, but Jake made that possible by holding you so close and filling you so much you couldn't get enough of each other.
You held tight to his muscular back, digging your heels into the mattress as he pounded into you with a relentless rhythm, your walls clenching down on his rigid shaft with a fierce, hungry grip. He let out a feral growl of satisfaction as you writhed beneath him, grinding yourself against him faster and quicker, begging for release. Your whole body shook with pent up passion, the need to come crashing down on you like a tsunami.
With a sharp jerk, he suddenly stiffened underneath you, causing you to cry out. His breathing became labored as your pussy clenched around his girth with unrelenting intensity. You didn't think you'd ever seen his face contort in agony quite like that before. You both took a deep breath at the same time and released it in unison as he let you cum around his dick. His cock twitched inside of you, but you didn't want to break eye contact; he was still so intent on looking at you. Your hands reached up to run through his hair again, and he bent down to kiss you gently as you both enjoyed each other's company. Then it was over in an instant as he came with a deep grunt breaking the kiss, body shaking with the force of his release, painting his white masterpiece on your walls as he slumped forward, resting his forehead heavily against your naked belly with hot tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.
“I will not let him bother you ever again”
218 notes · View notes
fridayplease · 21 hours
Text
Grove Guardian's Revenge: A Gif Analysis
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Pissing him off so you don't have to.
Obligatory slowed version of The Walk to get us started. If you haven't seen it before, you're welcome.
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He's so angry and so right to be angry. For a hundred years, he has defended the Grove at great personal cost. Before it was established, he saw the deaths of his friends, peers, mentor; his support circle crumbled in a single day.
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Not only did his mentor fall, he had to slay his mentor's shade in the aftermath in order to lay him to rest. This is the final release canon origin for the Sorrow glaive, but the early-access version is even more heart-wrenching. Either version, the mantle of first druid / arch-druid is thrust upon his unprepared shoulders; alone and without confidantes or peers, he shouldered the load and kept going.
In his diary, we see that he thought he'd found hope of a cure for the Shadow Curse, which was what he was pursuing when the goblins captured him. "The first hope in a century" if I'm remembering correctly.
From there, he meets you - a second hope of salvation. And then... this. The ultimate betrayal and the end of the Grove, of everything he's protected for so long.
We rarely see Halsin using his size to intimidate; even when he rips Kagha a new one in the conversation about the Rite of Thorns, regardless of whether or not he throws her out.
He uses his size as threat now... as he should. He's here to kill you.
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And if it's not active intimidation, then what we might be seeing here is him reining in his temper - choosing to have a conversation before acting.
He's facing Tav when he storms up; as he starts to talk, he angles himself a little away from them. We'll see that more in a second.
"I thought you'd help me. I thought we'd help eachother - instead you chose this."
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Controlled calm slipping into justified anger. Again, that blink-and-you'll miss it detail of an emotion, just amazing work by Larian.
"The grove stood for generations. It was our link to Silvanus. Not, it’s nothing but blood and ashes - thanks to you."
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Let's slow it down and get closer, really soak in the tiny details embedded in this scene.
Watch the first part below at half speed, watch his face twist into disgust and pain. Watch him physically turn away from you in anger and loathing. He's not looking at Tav anymore, he's seeing something else instead. Some memory of the Grove, whether a happy one or a more recent, bloodstained one, we're left to guess.
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Anger turns into sorrow - he lifts his eyes in a silent prayer as he speaks, then hangs his head in heavy, tired despair. It doesn't drag his features down yet; he's still too angry under all that pain.
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A tiny, miserable moment of memory and suffering....
...before sorrow turns back into anger, when he comes back to the present. That second blink of anger when he comes back to himself, out of whatever memory he was replaying in that moment. He turns back to you and rage crowds back into his face.
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He's already made his choice... but he's about to give Tav a chance to speak for their actions anyway. While the role of arch-druid might have been thrust onto his unprepared shoulders unexpectedly a hundred years before, he has grown immensely since then. Despite his justified rage, he reacts wisely, seeking to understand before seeking vengeance.
Tell me… was it worth it? 
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He's furious, rightfully so, but there's still a genuine question under that rage. The split-second look of curiousity before the rage takes over his features once more.
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Was there a meaning to this sacrifice? Was it done for a purpose or was it all just as cruel and wanton of a betrayal as it seemed?
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Even as anger and hatred take over his face once more, he gives you a chance to speak for yourself.
There are four options.
Option 1: Of course - I did what I had to do. Your grove was in the way. 
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"You have no idea what you’ve done, do you? Or perhaps you simply don’t care?"
First, the genuine sadness and disbelief as he says "You have no idea what you’ve done, do you?"
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Then, the anger of "Or perhaps you simply don’t care?"
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Sadness and sorrow into fucking rage. Both are so poignant and beautifully done. Round of applause for Larian, god(s)damn.
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The first three options all end the same way, so we'll cut right to Option 2 and save that glorious closing gif for the end.
Option 2: "I’m sorry. I had no choice." 
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"There’s always a choice - but you have made yours. Now I make mine."
Look at the disgust... the way he squeezes his eyes shut as he says "There’s always a choice". He knows. He's made hard choices, at great personal cost.
The way he says it with his head down, his nostrils flared in disgust and anger, and doesn't open his eyes as he turns his head to face Tav. He doesn't open his eyes until the last instant, both saddened and repulsed by Tav and their actions.
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Then, when he's looking into Tav's eyes, the anger and hatred set in again.
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Let's cut to Option 3.
Option 3: "Calm down. Come sit by the fire and we can talk this over."
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"There’s nothing left to be said. My mercy died when I saw the grove."
Pretty much directly into the rage with this one.
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And honestly, I don't think anyone could blame him? The balls to aid in the massacre of everyone he cares about, then to hit him with "Calm down. Come sit by the fire and we can talk this over" once he confronts you and gives you a chance to explain yourself?
Nope. Game over, buddy. (Well...)
The four option is simply to attack; all four options lead to a fight to the death. The first three options all end the same way;
"You have upended nature’s balance. Only your death can restore it!"
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Slower? Okay.
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172 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 2 days
Text
Thanksgiving Liars (Rooster x Reader)
Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. My masterlist. Banner by @mak-32
Warnings: language, fluff
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After you ended the call, you tossed your phone aside and looked at Bradley as he cradled you on his lap. "Do you think they fell for it?" you asked him.
"Gullible," he replied with a nod. "They're all so fucking gullible."
You erupted into laughter as he rolled you onto your back on the couch. "They aren't going to know what hit them. Planning a whole entire wedding in just two months? They will all be shocked."
Bradley kissed you and guided your arms above your head, pinning them gently to the cushion. "We intive them for Thanksgiving dinner, wine and dine them with your incredible cooking, and then... Bam! Welcome to our wedding, suckers."
You couldn't stop laughing as he kissed you and teased you with his nose everywhere. "Our moms will both cry," you giggled. "Your dad will think it's great that we decided to get married in a parking lot, and my dad will ask if we're hurting for money for the exact same reason."
Bradley pressed his lips to your ear and whispered, "It makes me wild that you thought of it in the first place. Right there in the spot where we had our first kiss is absolutely where we should get married."
"I agree."
He ran his fingers along your arm, and you snuggled against him as he said, "You've been working so hard, Baby Girl. I know what getting another promotion means to you, and I'm already proud. But thank you for agreeing to get married this year."
"Hey," you replied softly, taking his chin in your hand. "I want to marry you, Roo. More than anything. And this is going to be perfect."
--------------------------
Bradley was practically cackling as you and he cleaned up the plates after Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone was still mulling over glasses of wine and the promise of dessert when the two of you slipped into the kitchen. 
"They are oblivious," he said, setting some dishes in the sink while you pumped your fist silently in the air.
"They have absolutely no idea!" you hissed. "Your mom thinks you're going to teach her how to surf tomorrow."
"I don't even fucking know how to surf!"
Bradley watched you double over in quiet yet hysterical laughter as you gripped the edge of the counter for support. "That's why it's so funny!"
He had to press his fist against his lips to keep silent as he heard your dad and Nat laughing about something in the dining room. Your wedding dress was hanging in the bedroom closet, and so was his outfit. But everyone else would be arriving to the beach parking lot tomorrow thinking they'd been invited to hang out all afternoon and evening. "This was the best idea you've ever had," Bradley said as you stood again with tears in your eyes, and you wrapped him up in a hug.
"I can't wait! Now let's get these pies out there and get this show on the road."
But you and he both burst out into another round of stifled laughter before you were able to keep it together long enought to get the desserts on the table. 
"Hey, what time should we all meet at the beach tomorrow?" Nat asked as she helped herself to nearly half of the apple pie. 
"Around 3:00," you and Bradley replied at the same time. The plan was that you'd fake a stomach ache and skip the lunch plans with your parents and his so you could get changed into your dress. Bradley would entertain everyone without you before telling them to change at the hotel and meet at the beach which was right across the street. It was flawless. Inspired. All courtesy of your breautiful brain. 
"We'll have dinner on the beach and watch the sunset," you added. "It'll be great."
Bradley watched his mom stand up from the table and immediately give you a hug. "Dinner was perfect, my sweet girl. Thank you for such a beautiful day, I don't know what could beat it! But I'm going to take Goose back to the hotel before he falls asleep."
Sure enough, Bradley's dad looked like he was about to doze off in a turkey induced coma at the table while everyone else around him chatted.
You kissed Carole's cheek and said, "See you tomorrow," with a secret glint in your eye before turning toward Bradley.
When everyone was gone, he left the mess in the kitchen; he would clean it up later. "Can I take you to bed now?" he asked as he followed you down the hallway.
But you stopped in the doorway. "About that... shouldn't you sleep in the other bedroom? It's supposed to be bad luck to see each other."
Bradley laughed, but you did look kind of serious. "Oh, you're not joking." When you shrugged in response, he said, "All I've had is good luck since I met you, Sweetheart. The best luck."
"You almost died when you were deployed," you deadpanned.
"And luckily you were here to nurse me back to perfect health with your love," he replied easily. Then he sighed when you didn't laugh. "If you want me to, I'll go sleep in the other room."
You chewed on your lip and crossed and then uncrossed your arms. You shuffled your feet and groaned. "It'll feel like you're deployed again, and I don't like that. So nevermind." You took him by the hand and led him to bed where he stayed with you all night.
-----------------------
You thought you'd be a little nervous, but you weren't. You thought you might feel a little self-conscious in your wedding dress, but you didn't. When you pulled into the parking lot in your shitty, red car, Bradley was already there, and you gasped as you looked at him, somehow more handsome than ever before. 
"Sweetheart," he sighed when he opened your door and reached out to help you stand. You could tell he had some tears gathering in his eyes, but you knew you did, too. You went right into his arms as he said, "You're beautiful." Then your lips met his as you both stood in that empty parking spot between the two vehicles, where you'd shared your first kiss. Thousands of kisses later, it was the spot where you and he would make your forever promises to each other.
"You'll end up wearing my lipstick," you whispered, breaking the kiss briefly before he chased you down for more. 
"I don't care."
The two of you were fully making out, your fingers in his hair as you moaned his name, when Maverick arrived on that ancient motorcycle. He whistled as he removed his helmet. "Want me to come back later?" he joked. 
"Absolutely not, Uncle Mav," Bradley told him. "I want to get married as soon as possible."
You smiled up at Bradley and tried to wipe your lipstick from his face with your thumbs as Maverick went over the short ceremony he had planned. He was your only accomplice today. He knew the truth where everyone else only knew the Thanksgiving lie. "Sound good?" he asked with his signature smile.
"Sounds perfect," you told him, kissing his cheek and leaving another smudge behind. 
Bradley had his chin resting on your shoulder as said, "It's almost 3:30. And oh shit, look. Here they come."
You turned to toward the hotel, and you saw all four parents in their beach going attire as they crossed the street at the crosswalk. Your mom saw you first and froze on the sidewalk as she shook your dad's arm. Then you heard Carole scream, "She's wearing her wedding dress! The dress we helped her pick out in Maryland!" Goose must have slept off his turkey stupor, because he was the first one to make his way past the Bronco to where the two of you were standing in his loud, tropical print shirt.
Goose had his son in his arms, slapping him on the back and then rubbing rough circles while they shared a whispered conversation that you knew was too private for you to hear. But it didn't matter, because Carole was screeching her way toward you. 
"I knew it! I knew it from the first time he mentioned you that you'd get married," she said, pulling you into her arms. She kissed your cheek seven times before she said. "The way my Bradley talked about you made me so hopeful for his future, and I just knew you'd be his wife. But I didn't know it would be today! I'm wearing a bathing suit!"
You laughed and said, "Surprise!" just as your parents reached you. 
Your mom had tears on her cheeks as she said, "I don't appreciate being lied to, but this is okay."
Your dad pulled you in for a hug and asked, "Are you getting married in the parking lot? If you needed money, you could have asked."
Your laughter rang out, and Bradley looked at you as you said, "My dad wants to know if we're getting married in the parking lot."
"Yes, we definitely are," Bradley replied as Carole sobbed against his chest. "This parking spot is where she kissed me for the first time. It was perfect. I was already half in love, and that threw me over the edge."
You could feel the heat rising in your face as a chorus of 'Aww!' came from everyone around you while Bradley smiled. And then the cars started pulling in. Nat was hanging out the window yelling when she saw you, and Jake drove right over some of the orange cones that had the far entrance blocked off. The commotion got louder and louder as all of your friends arrived, jostling you around in their excitement. 
"What a pair of sneaky liars!" Jake shouted in just his board shorts. "We're all going to look like a bunch of idiots in your wedding photos."
"You'd have looked that way regardless," Bradley told him as he pulled you closer. His brown eyes were wide and hopeful as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Everyone's here, Baby Girl. You ready to do this thing?"
You nodded and pecked him on the cheek. All of your friends were chattering and already taking pictures. Your parents were holding hands and smiling. Carole and Goose were looking at you like you were the best thing they'd ever seen in their lives. And Maverick was waiting quietly. 
"Yes. I'm ready, Roo," you promised, and he ran his thumb along your cheek as he whispered your name. 
"Okay, Mav," he rasped without taking his eyes off your face. "Make her my wife."
----------------------------
196 notes · View notes
megamindsecretlair · 3 days
Text
Mr. Black, Part 8 - Final Part
Pairing: Tre x Assistant!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FLUFF. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), oral (female and male receiving) dirty talk, praise kink, minor D/s elements, dumbass reader, power imbalance, Tre is a boss, all consensual. Some mentions of violence.
Summary: The day has finally come to confront the thief! You have planned, you have plotted, and Tre helped you make your case airtight. But nothing could ever got that smoothly right?
Word Count: 5,814k
A/N: If ya'll only knew how hard it was to write this! Lawdt, I love these two and was NOT prepared to say goodbye. But I wanted to start Zyair fics guilt free. Thank you, THANK YOU for reading this and all your lovely comments. I would not be here without yall! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!
Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @henneseyhoe @my1onlysenpai @darqchilddaydreamz @badassdoll @playgurlxoxo @eggnox @abeautifulmindexposed @theyscreamsannii @melaninpov @mcdesij @kholdkill @blowmymbackout @theunsweetenedtruth @monaeesstuff @cocoeffects @soft-persephone @duckiesfairy @slippinninque @westside-rot @prettypink-princesss @kawaiisadoglu @thadelightfulone @the-crystal-one @miyuhpapayuh @thecookiebratz @twocentuar @esachicaa @enchantedillumination @xo-goldengirl @tranquilfandomer @we-outsiiiide @hihellogoodbyebruh @babybratzmaraj @yourofficialgal @liyaah02 @mochaaahooligan @ashleykeri @harmshake @amethyst09 @ciaqui @iv0rysoap @nworbaij @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @youcanttouchthis1001 @luckygirlszn @myunknowndiary
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You wanted to tell Tre that you loved him but it never seemed like the right time. Once you came to grips with it, you found that you weren’t as scared as you would have been months ago. Things never worked in the proper order when it came to Tre, so why should your feelings? 
You knew that you loved him, loved spending time with him, loved talking to him, and loved how sweet and possessive he was. You loved that you didn’t have to guess with him. What you saw was what you got and after years of unsatisfactory men, he was like hitting the jackpot and winning a cruise bundled into one.
However, with what you uncovered at the job, you weren’t sure if now was the time to distract him. After laying out what you discovered earlier in the week, he asked you to show him the evidence.
You laid out your entire thought process. How you thought you screwed up the numbers on an account but it never balanced. You looked into the most recent invoices but still found discrepancies. So you went back further and further until it was obvious that the thief was skilled.
The week after, Tre took the files so that he could pour over it himself. Not that he didn’t trust you; he just wanted to cross all the T’s before accusing a manager of stealing. You weren’t offended. You were just a lowly assistant. 
During the day, you pretended like everything was fine at work. You didn’t give anyone any indication that a scandal was about to rock the place. You felt vindicated though. They fired all those people around Christmas time. What a heartless place. 
At night, when you were over Tre’s house, he’d cook and peruse the documents while you watched your shows. In fact, it was probably the longest you had gone without having sex with him. And you were horny as hell. He’d turned you into a sex fiend and now your body had to go without. It sucked.
Exactly one week after confronting him with the news, you two spent the majority of the weekend discussing your plan. You didn’t want to cause a scene. That was embarrassing. You argued for getting the police involved. But Tre had more loyalty than you and wanted to give them a chance to fess up. 
That Tuesday morning, you sat at your desk with your leg bouncing a mile a minute. Tre arrived on time and you were there to greet him with his morning coffee. You followed him into his office, taking in his outfit. 
He wore a black, plaid suit jacket, with a black shirt open at the collar. You saw a hint of his gold chains around his neck. You’d never get sick of seeing him and admiring his style. It was always all black, but he dressed extremely well. You loved it when a man took pride in what he wore. You just loved him.
“What’s wrong?” Tre asked.
“Huh?” You asked.
“You look like you swallowed a lemon,” he said and smirked. In the safety of his office, he looked behind you to make sure no one was there before kissing your cheek. You smiled and waved him off. 
“Just overthinking, like usual,” you said. It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him. But no distractions. That was final. 
“It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay,” he said. He put his briefcase down on the floor and slapped a folder onto his desk. You wondered if that was the evidence you had gathered. It didn’t look big enough, but what did you know? He was the type to photocopy stuff so that it was all neat and proper. You tended to have a messier style. 
“I know but–” 
“No buts. We’re going to be okay. You trust me?” He asked.
“Yes, of course,” you said. You loved him. You mentally shook yourself. Now it was down to business. Now was the time to get your head in the game. You smiled and went back out to your desk. 
You tried to work, but as it drew closer to midday, you couldn’t help looking at the clock on your computer. You decided to do it after lunch, most people were relaxed after a good meal. Less likely to yell, scream, and throw things. You hoped. 
When two o’clock rolled around, Tre left his office, carrying his briefcase and the folder. He smiled at you and nodded his head. You bit your lip. He said that he wanted you there because you were the one who uncovered the whole thing. You were prepared to give him all the credit. He refused. 
Typical man. You stood up and locked your computer, smoothing down your deep navy dress that might as well have looked black. You didn’t want to be matchy-matchy with Tre but you wanted to wear something more business-like for the occasion. 
The ride up the elevator made you want to vomit. Getting out on the floor made you shake in your heels. Your hands began to sweat and you didn’t have anywhere to wipe it so you just rubbed your hands together. This shouldn’t be this hard right? You had solid evidence and Tre triple checked it for you. 
But why did you get the sense that you were about to get slapped in the face? 
Tre arrived at Lee’s door and knocked, ignoring her assistant altogether that she was in a meeting. Without waiting for permission. Tre opened the door and stepped inside. You were behind him, stuck behind his broad shoulders, so you saw him stiffen before he moved to the side.
In Lee’s office, Little Miss Headband Brianna sat in front of Lee’s desk. She smiled gleefully when she saw you. Very much like the cat who ate the canary. Her fingernails were long and painted black. You could guess why. 
She turned her attention to Tre and you saw her eyes soften. You knew the feeling. Tre made you weak in the knees as well. However, that time was long past and you knew how Tre felt about you. You weren’t intimidated. Except that she still seemed to have it all together while you were still figuring your shit out.
“Well, I must be pretty popular today,” Lee said. She tossed back her blonde hair and looked between you and Tre. A knowing type of look. Like Brianna just got done snitching type of knowing look. 
“Brianna,” Tre acknowledged. “It’s best that you go now. We have sensitive information to discuss.” 
“Oh? Guess I should stay. Newly minted legal counsel and all,” Brianna said, dropping a bomb that stole your breath. This bitch was gonna work here now? 
Tre chuckled. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” he said. 
You didn’t want to seem like the clueless, dumb one, so you kept your face neutral and facing forward. Pretended that you knew what was going on. But you didn’t. You really didn’t. 
Brianna shrugged her shoulders. “I needed a change of pace and Chicago was getting too cold for me.” She winked at you but all you did was smile. Hers faltered a little bit. It wasn’t so much fun gloating when the intended target wasn’t taking the bait. 
“I hope California goes a lot better for you,” he said. 
Why was he acting like they were discussing the fucking weather? You wanted to look at him, but you knew his expressions pretty well by now. He wouldn’t give away his thoughts so easily. The plan was to come and confront Lee. This curveball made you feel unprepared. 
“That’ll be all,” Lee said, waving away her assistant. The woman sighed, threw up her hands, and closed the door behind her. Trapping you inside with Tre, his stalker ex-girlfriend, and the manager who robbed this company blind. 
“Well, can’t say I’m surprised, Tre. I figured there was something going on between you. You haven’t been exactly subtle,” Lee said. She sat back in her seat and crossed her long legs. 
Her office seemed to reflect her true self. It was cold and devoid of any real decoration. There was the standard knick knack or two, a diploma on the wall, but nothing that indicated she even worked here. It was always her intention to collect two checks from the company.
“That’s on me. I got sloppy the further in our relationship we went,” he said. Calm. He was too damn calm while you were ready to jump out of your skin. 
Lee and Brianna laughed. “Relationship? Please. She’s an assistant and you’re her boss,” Lee said. 
“She’s actually a floater, according to her intake paperwork,” Tre said. This, you did whip your head around to look at him. “She could be reassigned at any point to another desk once she was done clearing my backlog. So she wasn’t exactly my employee, rather an employee of the company at large.” 
Your lips parted, taking in this new information. What the hell was he on about? 
“Get the fuck out of here,” Brianna said with a haughty laugh. Tre smiled. 
“I know lawyers like specifics. So here’s a copy of her intake paperwork as well as the companies’ policy on interoffice romance. There’s nothing in the rules preventing us from dating. It was even colorfully stamped by HR,” he said. He handed Brianna the folder he had carried earlier. 
You wracked your brain. There was one night last week that he had you sign a piece of paper. He told you that it was to protect you in case there was any blowback. Sneaky bastard. You had to start asking more questions. 
Brianna snatched the folder, stood up, and skimmed through the paperwork, her face twisting the further in she got. You looked at Tre who winked at you. A grin split your face. This man thought of fucking everything. Things you hadn’t even considered. 
All you knew was that it would be the end of your career if anyone ever found out about you two. You were sure that you’d become the office joke. A cliche. A boss banging his assistant. What else was new? 
There was still that possibility. People shunning you, thinking you were getting over by being on your knees. It shouldn’t matter what people think, but it did. You wanted to be an adult and be taken seriously. 
You accepted the risk when you accepted Tre’s tongue down your throat. You only hoped you were strong enough to survive the fallout. 
“You can’t be serious with this shit,” Brianna said, continuing to flip.
“Quite serious,” Tre said. 
“Well, I guess we all learned a lesson about minding our own business, huh?” Lee asked and chuckled. 
“Not exactly,” Tre said and smirked. “I’m actually glad we got that out of the way first. In the folder, you’ll also find the company’s policy on retaliation and whistleblowers.”
“What are you talking about?” Lee asked.
Tre stepped forward and put his briefcase on Lee’s desk. She looked at him quizzically while he opened it and dropped the evidence you collected onto her desk. He tapped the green file and put his hands in his pockets, looking at Lee with furrowed eyebrows and a grimace. 
“You’ve been stealing from the company,” he said. 
Lee looked from the file to Tre and burst into laughter, throwing her head back. Her laugh grated on your ears. Like a cawing bird. “What, what is this? A joke? Something your little girlfriend came up with while she was sucking your dick?” 
You tilted your head and stepped forward. Heat burned in your chest. Like all the words you wanted to say got rolled into a ball and stuck in your lungs. Tre beat you to the punch.
“You can try to deflect by saying something foul, but it doesn’t change the facts. You’ve been skimming off of nearly every big account that we have. Billing them for things we don’t provide and padding your own pockets with it. You didn’t think anyone was going to notice?” 
Lee continued to laugh, but when it was clear that she was the only one, she looked back down at the file. She sighed and opened the first page, skimming through. The smile slowly disappeared from her face as she did so.
“All you have is a bunch of invoices with your name on it,” Lee said. She sniffed and brushed invisible lint from her cream-colored suit jacket. 
“I have my copy with my name on it. But these were your accounts that you passed on to me. The system still has you flagged as the primary point of contact. And no use trying to erase it, I already contacted IT to lock you out of the system,” Tre said. 
Lee turned icy blue eyes towards Tre. “You think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you? That you’re just going to ride off into the sunset cackling over what you and your whore came up with?” 
You stepped forward again. “Watch how you fucking speak about me,” you said. All respect flew out of the window. She was caught off guard but that didn’t give her any excuse to speak about you like that. In her eyes, you were nothing more than a whore, spreading your legs, and getting over on the company dime. You knew that wasn’t true. What you and Tre shared was special, even as cliche as it was. 
Tre held up his hand. You looked at him, fire in your eyes, ready to keep going. She wasn’t going to walk out of here with all of her teeth if she continued to call you out of your name. 
“You are the stupidest man I’ve ever met. There’s not anything she can offer you that can be worth all this,” Brianna said. 
“I don’t have to explain myself or my relationship to you. That’s the fun part about being exes,” Tre said. 
You grinned at Brianna and turned around to Tre in time to see Lee standing, grabbing her office phone. “Tre, look out!” You yelled, legs propelling you forward as if you meant to put yourself in between him and the desk phone. 
He turned a second too late, enough to bring his arm up and block Lee but the phone still touched some part of him. He grunted, fighting with Lee over the desk phone. You wanted to jump in, but he was a big dude. He could handle his own until security arrived.
You turned, heading towards the door. Brianna blocked your path. “What did you do to him? Why did you break him? He was perfect!” She yelled. 
You stepped closer to her. “He still is perfect. He just doesn’t want your desperate ass. If he gets hurt while I’m busy dealing with you, there’s not a cop in America that’ll find your body,” you said, looking her in the eye to make sure she understood. 
Brianna’s eyes widened, stepping away. Lee and Tre were still struggling. You threw open the door and yelled for the assistant to call security and upper management. The assistant looked at you and you screamed once more to get her in gear. 
Brianna stood frozen in place, looking at Tre like someone stole her puppy. Again, you understood. If you lost him, you’d be sick in the head too. But she only had one more time to look at him like that before you snatched her eyes out.
Tre had managed to flip Lee onto her desk and held her there while you waited for security. An executive showed up and demanded to know what the hell was going on. 
All the adrenaline from the confrontation and fight left you shaky and weak. You sat in the nearest chair while you dealt with the aftermath. Brianna handled the legal side, guess she was good for something. Tre answered most of the questions about the theft. You had to give your testimony when the cops were called in, but they let you go for the time being while they went over your evidence.
The entire office, or what was left of them, came out of their cubicles to witness a screaming Lee being led away in handcuffs. You trailed behind, holding hands with Tre. It hadn’t dawned on you that you were until you passed by Henry. He looked down at your combined hands and you bit your lip. Whoops.
He only smiled and nodded, like he understood. Poor Henry. He deserved someone to love him back, he was sweet and kind. You were just far more interested in mean assholes who enjoyed having the upperhand in the relationship. 
Outside, an ambulance was called to check Tre out. He wouldn’t let you leave, holding onto your hand and keeping you rooted to the spot. “You need to let them check you out,” you told him. Red and blue lights flashed over his mischievous face.
“They can check me out with you standing right here,” he said and gave you a wink. He had a nasty cut above his eye, blood leaking from the wound. It made your stomach watery looking at it. You hated to see him hurt. 
The EMT doctored the wound and gave a brief exam for a concussion. They cleared him, but told him the protocol to have you watch for signs of internal bleeding. They told him to pop some Tylenol and go to a doctor if he didn’t feel well later.
“I got someone to take good care of me,” Tre said and winked at you. The EMT laughed and wished you good luck while he placed a bandage over Tre’s eye. 
You yawned, though you weren’t really sleepy. Exhausted, sure, but you didn’t want to go to sleep. You didn’t want to end the day without getting a few things off of your chest.
“You weren’t going to tell me about the HR thing?” You asked.
“Didn’t want to freak you out in case we ended up breaking some type of rule. I didn’t plan on Brianna being here, though,” he said. 
You looked across the parking lot while she spoke to the cops. Lee was raging in the backseat of a cop car. You shivered in the cold air, night fast approaching and dropping the temperature. 
“No one did. Must’ve got her dickmatized,” you said and chuckled. 
“Ha-ha, I’m glad stalking is funny to you,” he said. 
“OH! You don’t think being possessive and stalker-ish is funny?” You said, being dramatic and clapping. 
“I want you to remember this conversation,” he said. He smirked as he stood up, cleared by the EMT.
“Wait, I’m sorry!” You said, but you started laughing at his expression and couldn’t find a way to stop. He turned stern eyes towards you, eyebrows furrowed and no trace of humor. 
“I’m sorry! I take it back,” you said, laughs erupting from you.
“Remember all this,” he said, his soft voice working wonders on your imagination. You shuddered to think of what he could possibly have planned for you. Then again, he didn’t know what you had planned for him either.
You grabbed your things from the office, awkwardly walking past dozens of employees who wanted more information. You promised to say what you could, hoping that the rumor mill didn’t spin too much out of control. 
Tre didn’t want to let you out of his sight, convinced that you would run from his particular brand of punishment. Considering you knew that his punishments usually involved you bent over something, ass smarting from his spankings, you weren’t exactly complaining. 
On the way to his place, you checked in with him to make sure that he was okay. That he wasn’t hurt in some other kind of way. You tried to tell him that he didn’t have to do anything tonight, he was in a major fight and was hit upside the head with a desk phone. 
He thought you were just trying to get out of your punishment. Well, yes, but that was beside the point. You were worried about him. 
At his place, he let you inside. “I’ll give you five minutes to prepare,” he said, a smirk crossing his sinful face. 
You gasped, smiling despite yourself. “Seriously? I said I was sorry!” You said.
“I know,” he said and smiled. You waited, but he didn’t offer anything else other than that damn smirk. 
You sighed, rolled your eyes, and headed upstairs to his bedroom. Your legs wobbled. Your hands shook for entirely different reasons this time. This was real. This was the right time. And while he was contemplating tearing your ass up, you were contemplating the right moment to tell him. 
Before? During? After? Would he assume you only said it because he got hurt? Or that you said it to avoid getting punished? 
You went to his huge bathroom, stripping out of your dress. Underneath, you wore a sexy new teddy that you picked up with his card. Somehow, your love for him cured your squeamishness about using his money. Go figure. He insisted. And you weren’t the type to overspend on someone else’s dime. So you shopped guilt free for an all black lingerie outfit. 
A sheer, satin little number that showed off your body in the best possible way. The important bits were covered tastefully, but the sheer fabric exposed your belly, back, and top of your breasts. 
It was surprisingly comfortable to wear all day, like sexy pajamas and the best part was that he had no clue. It was for you just as much as it was for him. It made you feel confident, sexy, and strong as you walked into Lee’s office. Brianna was a curveball and you didn’t know how working with her was going to go, but fuck her. Miss Headband wasn’t your problem.
“Five minutes are up,” Tre called out. 
You took a deep breath and looked at yourself in the mirror. You had this. You left the bathroom and stopped in your tracks. No matter how many times you thought you had the upper hand, Tre was always there to remind you who was in charge.
He stood next to the bed with his shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, tie loose about his shoulders and slacks on. He took off his shoes and socks, feet planted firmly on the soft carpet. You had seen him in a similar state before, when he was either getting ready for work or getting ready for bed, but never before sex. 
Your jaw slackened. Maybe you ought to wait. Getting spanked by your boss while he looked like this was hot as hell. You rubbed your thighs together, your pussy throbbing. His chest was shiny, gleaming in the light of the room. The chains around his neck shimmered. The black on black on him was killing you from the inside out. 
He smirked, seeing your outfit. “It appears we had similar ideas,” he said. 
“Yup,” you squeaked. You slapped your hand to your face. That was not sexy. So you opened your eyes, squared your shoulders, and walked closer to him. “Before we get started, there is something you should know.”
He lifted an eyebrow, watching you approach. Watching your hips sway. The confident dip to your shoulders. You grabbed onto the necktie around his shoulders, wrapping the ends around your hands, and pulled him close.
“What’s that? Begging isn’t going to change my mind,” he said. 
You smiled. “I love you.” 
Tre’s face dropped comically and you smirked, careful not to laugh. This was a serious matter. One that you hoped he took the correct way. 
“You heard me. I love you. I have loved you for a while but it took too long for me to notice. You’ve knocked down every single brick wall I tried to throw in your face. Without even trying. And I’m glad you did.”
You brought him closer, kissing him. He was stiff at first, but he returned your kiss, hands hanging loosely by his sides. You broke the kiss and pushed him down on the bed. His legs spread apart and you walked in between, cupping his face in your hands.
“You are everything I ever prayed about,” you whispered. 
He blinked at you, face unreadable. Did you mess up? Did he not believe you? 
Nerves started to get the best of you. You smiled, nervously, pulling away from him. His hands grabbed hold of your hips, fingers digging in for purchase. You gasped from the force he used. Like he never, ever wanted to let you walk away. 
“A day hasn’t gone by that I didn’t think about hearing those words from you,” he said, his raspy voice going deeper, needier. He stared at you and you smiled, relief flooding through you swiftly and making your knees weak. 
“I know I gave you enough cause to worry–”
“It wasn’t that. I know I can come off a little strong,” he said. You gave him a look. He smiled and shook his head. “Alright, a lot strong. But I knew you were it for me. I wanted to be it for you,” he said.
“And you are. In so, so many ways,” you said. Too many for you to name. Because if you started, you’d be here all night reciting the ways that you loved him. Like some lovesick rabbit. 
“I love you. I’m so thankful you’re in my life,” he said. He grinned at you. You leaned down and kissed him, throwing your arms around his neck. You took your time getting lost in his kisses. Wrapped up in them. Comforted by them. 
Then, you began to kiss down his neck and his chest. His breath shuddered as you went lower and lower. You knelt on the floor, reaching for his zipper. 
“Sir, I’m so sorry to disturb you. But there’s this invoice I’m having trouble with,” you said, making your voice low and sultry. Tre lifted an eyebrow at you, smirking. 
“Is that right?” He asked.
You bit your lip and nodded, pulling his zipper down. You reached for his dick, pulling it free from his briefs. He was already big, swelling with need the longer you held him in your hand. He sighed, air blowing through his nose.
“Do you think you can help me? I think I need hands on instructions,” you said. You stroked him softly, your hands grazing over his velvety smooth dick. He was trying, and failing, to keep looking at you. He closed his eyes, throwing his head back with a delicious moan.
“Go ahead and put your mouth on it,” he said. He dropped his head down, focusing on you. You smirked. You opened your mouth and descended, wrapping your lips around the head of his dick.
He groaned, hips coming off of the bed briefly before settling back down. He cupped your cheek, thumb fanning across it. “Keep doing well like that, I might have to promote you,” he said.
You grinned, suckling him down further. You teased his tip, swirling your tongue and collecting little drops of precum. You sucked the salty mixture down, moaning at his taste. You looked at him while you increased your strokes, drooling on his dick, and sucking him down as far as he could go. 
He moaned, pulling you down onto his dick faster. You obliged, hollowing your cheeks so that he didn’t accidentally make you gag on his dick. You braced your hands on his thighs, giving up total control to him. He used your mouth, little curses flying from his own as he did so. 
You watched him, his image turning shaky as you bobbed up and down. But you loved seeing the transition on his face. The subtle way he stopped being careful and let his primal instincts take over. The way he sloppily pulled you down onto him, gurgling and sucking on him. More precum seeped into your mouth and you swallowed him down.
“Oh fuck,” he whispered before he tensed and let his climax overtake him. He groaned while he unloaded in your mouth and you sucked every last drop. When he was done, his eyes got wider.
“Shit. Did I hurt you?” He asked. 
You rolled your aching jaw and shook your head. “Not at all,” you told him.
He still looked a little horrified. He had been so careful to always be sweet. Giving you pleasure before his own. You only kissed his thigh and rubbed your cheek against his leg, hairs tickling your face. 
He sighed and tilted his head at you. “Why are you so perfect?” He asked.
You giggled and kissed his leg. “Far from perfect. But I’m glad you think so,” you told him. He helped you stand and then you straddled him, wiggling on his lap. 
He grabbed your ass, squeezing your cheeks for dear life. You groaned, gyrating into his crotch. He sighed, kissing along your neck. He kissed along your jaw, capturing your lips with his and you sighed into the kiss, melting into his embrace. 
One of his hands slipped between you, moving your lingerie to the side and sliding a knuckle along your slit. You hissed, gyrating once more. He moaned and pulled away from the kiss. “You weren’t gonna tell me how wet you are?” He asked.
“I thought you liked surprises,” you said with a fake pout, kissing him again. He grinned against your lips. You pulled back to look at him. A dark glint entered his eye while he started to finger you, dragging moans and sighs from you like a musician to an instrument. 
Before long, you were clutching onto his shoulders, hanging on, while you screamed out an orgasm. He continued to pump his fingers inside while you came and when you were done, he pulled his fingers out and licked them. He smirked.
You tilted your head. The hand that was still on your ass, came around your waist as he flipped you off of him and onto the bed. He joined you, pulling your set to the side and dipping a long tongue into your wet heat.
“Oh shit!” You screamed. You tried to wiggle away from him, but he held you by the thighs. He pushed them further apart while he sucked, licked, and teased your clit. 
“Oh fuck,” you whined. Your voice sounded alien to you. Needy. Desperate. Out of your mind with insane pleasure. The love you felt for him only increased tenfold as he teased another orgasm from you. You gripped onto his head, pushing his face into your pussy while he slurped greedily at your entrance.
You collapsed onto the bed with a deep sigh. Your thighs were still shaking as he leaned up into a pushup on top of you. You weakly slapped at his chest, feeling so damn good and noodle-like that you didn’t want this night to end. 
Tre kissed along the teddy that you wore, warm breath fanning across your oversensitive body. He calmed you in waves, body returning to normal before he scooted up. He kissed you and you tasted yourself on his tongue. You moaned while he got comfortable. 
You pushed the shirt off of his shoulders, wanting to feel and see more of him. His chains dangled from his thick neck and you watched, mesmerized by the gold. He lined himself up, sliding his dick between your folds to get him nice and wet with your juices.
“I need it,” you moaned, staring up at him like you were drunk. 
“What you need?” He asked.
“I need you,” you whispered. He kissed you again, lips lingering while he slowly pushed inside. You gasped, cries escaping you. 
“I need you, too,” he said. He bottomed out and you cried, clutching him to you. You bit his shirt while he began to stroke, hips rotating and fucking you. 
Your whines were tinny and small, gasping for breath while he fucked it out of you. Your nails scratched him, deep through his shirt, while he stroked. As he did so, he kissed you slowly. His lips warm. His dick big, digging you out. 
“I love you, I love you,” you huffed. The orgasm was approaching fast. Like you were being pulled towards an oncoming storm. 
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he chanted, each stroke a new declaration. A new stake. Planting himself as deep as possible. Ingraining into your very bones. 
“Cum for me, baby,” he groaned, desperate eyes locked with yours. 
You pulled his shirt, back bowing, as the storm overtook you. You screamed, eyes rolling back into the void, as you came. You may have been speaking in tongues. You may have been speaking perfect Mandarin. The only thing you did know was that the orgasm was powerful and took your hearing in one ear.
It rung as you held on. Tre’s strokes turned sloppy, uncoordinated, as he grunted and came with a long, suspended curse. “Fuck,” he said. 
You collapsed onto the bed and he collapsed on top of you. You looked at him and laughed. No reason why. You just felt free. Happy. He did that for you.
“You make me so happy,” you told him. 
His chuckles joined yours while he turned his head towards you. “You make me so fucking happy. Even happier if you accepted my marriage proposal,” he said.
You rolled your eyes. You supposed you saw that coming. “I ain’t hear no proposal,” you said. 
He chuckled, getting back to his hands. He pulled out, wet squelching making you hiss and bite your lip. He pulled on the nightstand dresser, pulling out a small black box. You leaned up on your elbows. “Tre, what the hell is that?” You asked.
He didn’t say anything as he opened the box. Inside was a gorgeous obsidian ring, inlay with gold pieces. He slipped it into your finger, a perfect fit. He took advantage of your distracted state, kissing you. He pushed back inside, pulling a deep gasp from your lungs. “Marry me,” he commanded. 
You opened your mouth, prepared to give him another bratty response. He repeated his stroke, knocking the breath out of you with the force of it. “Fu-yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!” 
He smiled wide and it made your toes curl. “You better had a said yes.”
“Or what?” You asked. 
Though you regretted it as soon as he showed you exactly what would’ve happened had you said no. And what happened because you said yes. You made love into the early morning light until you were both too sore and exhausted to do anything but fall asleep after clumsily cleaning each other up in the bathroom.
The end.
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Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
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notaplaceofhonour · 18 hours
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it’s october 7th. you hear about the attack by seeing people you followed glorifying the terrorist attack—a massacre, a pogrom—as victory & justified resistance, glorifying a terrorist group that was founded with the explicit intent to kill your entire people
you make a post in which you make it clear you support palestinians and oppose the ways israel has wronged them, explaining that the terrorist group is still not good. you know you will probably get some flacc from the pro-Hamas side, but naively underestimate how much.
you get thousands of notifications on that one post, the majority of them hateful comments.
some of the response is positive. multiple messages thank you for the post, expressing bafflement that it’s controversial.
a few Israelis are upset at the loaded language in your post, but explain their problems with it civilly. you called Israel “apartheid”. they ask you what apartheid laws Israel has. you admit you honestly don’t know.
your inbox is flooded with anonymous hate from anti-Israel leftists.
over the course of a few weeks you have received hundreds of death threats, a dozen rape threats. people accuse you of being pro-genocide. you’re a literal Nazi. you’re racist, you thirst for the blood of Palestinians. you’re brainwashed by propaganda, a shill for The Zionist Entity. a few of the hate messages are from literal Neo-Nazis; the overwhelming majority are from leftists, many of them queer.
you are considering suicide.
you see footage of the october 7th attacks. you see footage of the bombings in gaza. you see footage of a Jewish man being murdered at an anti-Israel rally.
a popular creator you follow posts in support of an antisemitic hate group that masquerades as a Jewish organization. this organization regularly posts blood libel and other antisemitic rhetoric, works with groups that are even more explicitly antisemitic, including celebrating October 7th, holocaust inversion, blood libel, “Khazar theory” and others. more than one of the orgs they work with is pro-Putin.
your former roommate liked the post.
graffiti appears on a street you frequent that says “#freepalestine” and “end settler colonialism”
the boyfriend of the friend you spent most of the summer with makes his first post about the war. it’s a reposted comic that mocks and downplays the october 7th attack.
you doubt he’ll be receptive to criticism. he’s shared leftist memes about “monied elites” pulling all the strings and evangelicals being modern day “pharisees” in the past, and getting him to understand why that was antisemitic was like herding cats. you try anyway.
another of his Jewish friends also pushes back. he smugly dismisses her, tells her she’s falling for Zionist propaganda and uses several antisemitic tropes. you go off on him. he just deletes your comment.
you give up. you’re done. you block him.
you see anti-Israel posters and billboards around town
you mention what happened with the guy you went off on to his girlfriend—the friend you’ve grown very close to, who you’ve been listening to as she unburdens her fears for the future and complains about her bf’s BS over the last year. she doesn’t respond to you.
a friend of a friend shares posts tokenizing fringe groups that spread blood libel and have collaborated with holocaust deniers. you know they don’t know what you know, so you explain what those groups are. they seem somewhat receptive, apologize, and take it down
the next day they share several more posts that dip into antisemitic tropes. you mention this to your mutual friend, that you’re worried about them being radicalized. you’re not sure how receptive they’ll be to continued criticism
you have a confrontation with the foaf. in the meantime they’ve shared even more antisemitic posts. they say they didn’t mean to cause you distress but instead of stopping they effectively block you.
the “end settler colonialism” vandalism has been counter-vandalized with the words “commie propaganda” in place of “settler colonialism”. you don’t know if this is an improvement.
a month passes. the friend whose bf you went off on still hasn’t spoken to you. you see she shared a post defending an SJP chapter that posted Nazi cartoon caricatures of Jews repurposed in “Anti-Zionist” memes. you unfriend her on all social media platforms but you can’t bring yourself to block her number.
you see a friend of someone whose couch you surfed when you were homeless harassing Jewish celebrities with “Free Palestine” comments. you block them.
you’ve lost count of how many people you’ve unfollowed or blocked, or who’ve blocked you. friends, content creators.
when a friend takes an unusually long time to respond you worry if it’s because of your posts about antisemitism.
most of the podcasts, youtube channels, and other content creators you regularly engaged with no longer feel safe. you wonder who will be next
a couple friends wish you a happy hanukkah. you don’t celebrate much aside from lighting the hanukkiah and making some latkes.
you see posts about a destroyed chabad menorah, antisemitic comments on Jewish celebrities’ Hanukkah posts.
your neighborhood is covered in pro-Palestine & anti-Israel posters. some are seemingly innocuous, some are JVP “not in our name” posters. some call for intifada. “globalize the intifada” “Zionists fuck off!” “solidarity means attack!”
a man kills himself shouting “free palestine”. you learn about his suicide by seeing posts from several popular accounts you followed glorifying it.
you follow a bunch of jewish accounts on social media and commiserate with them about everything happening
your jewish friends post screenshots of the dead man’s antisemitic, pro-Hamas views. you look at his reddit and find even more horrific shit: anti-Ukraine posts. mocking Zelensky. “elites” are “lizard people”; the only named individual he calls a lizard person is Jewish. you start to notice a pattern: a lot of the people he dislikes just so happen to be jews.
several people you know share a post glorifying this man’s suicide. most are acquaintances, one is someone incredibly important to you.
you wonder how they would respond to your suicide.
you tell the close friend that shared this post how it scares you. you show them the receipts of the man’s antisemitism. their response is a single sentence. they didn’t know about the antisemitism.
they don’t apologize.
you notice none of your irl friends, even your closest ones, interact with your posts about antisemitism. you are able to vent to a couple friends, but no one has reach out to you
you try not to read into it. you try not to take it personally.
you haven’t slept well in months. you’ve always been an insomniac but not like this. you’re not sleeping until 4am, 6am, even 9am. even when you get to bed at a decent hour and get a full night’s rest it takes you hours to get out of bed.
a few weeks go by. the friend with the single sentence response shares a post saying they’re excited and proud to join a group to help palestinians. you’re excited and proud for them.
a couple days later, they share a post about a fundraiser to help a palestinian family get out of gaza. you note to yourself this is a much more effective & less concerning form of activism than the pro-suicidal antisemite post.
your friend shares another post about the fundraiser. it’s a joint post between their group and another group.
you open the other group’s page
the page is just a wall of signs from rallies. you swipe through one after another: “from the river to the sea”, “by any means necessary”, justifying/denying the atrocities of october 7th, calling for violent revolution. anything done in the name of resistance can’t be terrorism, all Israelis are terrorists. Jews aren’t indigenous; they’re white colonizers. holocaust inversion. other vile, thinly veiled violent rhetoric
you feel sick to your stomach imagining talking to your friend about it.
you already feel like you’re burdening the few friends you can talk to about this. you already feel like you think about it too much, talk about it too much. but you can’t not think about it; it affects every aspect of your life.
you’ve filtered out relevant keywords on more than one social media site to avoid the worst of it. some still manages to leak through.
there isn’t a single friend you regularly interact with that you don’t fear the moment when they will switch from listening to your concerns to seeing you as the evil zionist or indoctrinated hasbaranik they’ve been warned about.
it’s not an irrational fear. it keeps happening. you knew it would then, and you were powerless to do anything about it before, and you continue to be as it happens again and again.
you don’t know what to do about any of it.
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ev3rgreenxtrees · 2 days
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Nick x trans reader has me kicking my feet like a little kid I need a smut of them frfr they so cute
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Safe With Me
-N.S
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Synopsis: You decide you’re ready to have sex, for the first time with Nick, and for the first time since you’ve had your bottom surgery.
Pairing: Nick Sturniolo X Trans!Reader (he/him)
Warnings: Smut, anal sex, oral, ‘first time’, insecurity, pet names (baby, pretty boy, handsome, ext.), praise kink, dom!nick x sub!reader, BIG DICK NICK❕
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“Nick..?” You call out, as you laid on your boyfriend’s chest.
“Yeah, baby?” He asks, his large hands playing with your hair.
“I..” You start, worried about how you were supposed to say this. “I think i’m ready.” You deeply exhale, and you feel his hand stop massaging your scalp.
“Like.. Ready-ready?” His voice is soft, making you feel safe. “Are you sure? We don’t have to, you know. I want you to know you’re safe with me, baby,” He reassured, and you nodded.
“Yeah.. Ready-ready.” You confirm, and Nick placed a kiss on the top of your head.
You had been dating Nick for quite some time now, but you’ve never had sex with him before. You have with other people, before you got with him obviously. However, when you got with him, you finally got enough money to pay for bottom surgery, and Nick supported you all the way through your transition. You already had top surgery, so you knew how undergoing surgery was. Nick helped you look for surgeons, he helped you research recovery, side effects, and other need-to-know information. Overall, he was so helpful and supportive of you, and you couldn’t thank him enough.
After you got your surgery, Nick was there for you throughout your healing process. It had been almost a year since you had gotten the surgery, and you felt like you were ready to have sex with him. You hadn’t had sex in what seemed like forever, and you were finally ready.
You turn to Nick, placing a kiss to his lips, to which he deepened. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he picked you up to carry him to your shared room.
He carefully laid you on the bed, placing harsh yet soft kisses long your neck and collarbone.
“If anything feels wrong or hurts, or even if you just want to stop, let me know. I promise you, i’ll stop immediately. I don’t want to rush you, nor do I want you to be in pain or uncomfortable.” Nick speaks softly, his voice sincere.
“Okay.” You nod, your hands falling to the hem of his shirt, as you tugged on it gently, letting Nick know you wanted it to be removed.
He removed it quickly, complying what you wanted. He slipped his shirt effortlessly over his shoulders and head, leaving him shirtless above you. He went back to kissing your neck, leaving deep red marks behind.
His hands trailed down your body, slipping his hands up your shirt. You let out a small whine as his hands trail all over your stomach. He slipped your shirt off, pulling away from your neck for only a few seconds, before moving to your chest.
You felt self-conscious of your chest, your scars still very visible, since they take a long time to even begin to fade away. Nick began placing soft kisses along your scars, whispering to you.
“My pretty boy.. You’re so handsome.” The small praises making you only want more from him. He always made you feel less insecure about yourself, and you couldn’t thank him enough. His hands trailed down to the waistband of your sweats, as he began tugging them down.
You lifted your hips, allowing him to easily slip them off. He tossed them elsewhere in the room, before doing the same for himself, so you wouldn’t feel too exposed. Both of you were in your boxers now, Nick hovering over you, both of your faces flushed red.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful like this,” Nick sighed, his hands roaming your body. You felt him slowly sit on your crotch, as his lips met yours, The sudden action caused you to get a feeling you hadn’t yet experienced. Your face was bright red, and Nick pulled away from the kiss. “You’re hard,” He chuckled, and your face lit up.
“Really?!” You gape, looking around Nick, as the tent in your boxers. “Oh my God! I am!” You gasped, and Nick smiled. Most men wouldn’t be so happy to be hard, but since this was the first boner you’ve experienced, you couldn’t help but be ecstatic. “Holy shit! Thats so cool!” Your jaw stayed dropped, and Nick shook his head.
“It’s hard to believe that i’m about to fuck the shit out of you, you’re so adorable.” He leaned back down, placing a kiss on your forehead.
“Ewww, don’t word it like that! It sounds gross,” You groan, and Nick scoffs.
“Sorry, your highness. What other way would you like me to say said heinous words? It is hard for thy to comprehend that thou will soon be having very rough sexual intercourse with thy, since thou are so very precious.” Nick states in an British accent, making you laugh loudly.
“Okay, okay, I get it!” You roll your eyes, pawing at his chest.
“Yeah?” He hummed, his lips meeting yours once again. His hand trailed down your body, as he gently pressed against your boner, causing a weird sensation to flood your body. You pulled away from the kiss, letting your head fall back.
“Oh my God-“ You choked, your hips involuntarily bucking up. “Fuck- I-I’m not gonna last long at all,” You huff, as you bit your lip harshly.
“Yeah? Thats okay, baby. I know it’s your first time like this,” Nick reassured. He slowly stood off of you, slipping his own boxers off. His cock slapped his lower stomach. You knew he was big- but not that big. His cock was larger than any you’ve seen before, including yours, and you even picked the size of yours.
“Thats supposed to fit inside of me?” You gaped, gesturing towards his cock, and Nick chuckled.
“Not necessarily. I don’t mind riding you,” Nick offered, and you let out a sigh of relief.
“Fuck, I love you.” You shake your head. Nick rolls his eyes, before saying ‘I love you’ back. His hands slip into the waistband of your boxers, before his eyes looked up to meet yours.
“Can I take these off, handsome?” He asked, and you nodded, biting your lip. Nick would be the first person besides you and the surgeons that have seen your dick.
He slowly pulled them down, your erect cock springing free. Your own jaw dropped at the sight of yourself hard. Nick stared, his facial expression unreadable.
“I..” He started. “I’ve never exactly ridden anyone- I’m usually top, so this is gonna hurt like hell.” He chuckled.
“Should’ve picked a smaller size then, I guess?” You cheesed, and Nick rolled his eyes at your snarky remark.
“Oh, shut up.” He scoffs. He lets out a deep exhale, before speaking again. “Do you.. Want me to like, suck you off first, or no?” He offered, making sure you were comfortable.
“No.. I don’t want to push how many times I cum.” You say quietly, and he nods. He gets back onto the bed, hovering over your cock. He places a reassuring kiss to your lips. He reaches to the bedside table, and grabs a small bottle of lube, which you didn’t even know he had.
“Okay.. Ready? I’ll go slow.” He asks, and you nod.
“Yeah.” You nod, and he smiles at you. He squirted some of the cold thickish liquid on your cock, the substance making you squirm slightly.
He gently grabs your cock, lining you up to his entrance. He gently pushed the tip in, slowly sinking his hips down, both of you letting out a sharp hiss. He continued slowly pushing down, until you bottomed out.
“F-Fuck,” Nick pants. “My pretty boy.. You’re doing amazing, baby.” Nick coos, as if he’s not the one in pain.
“I- This feels amazing- holy fuck,” You groan, and Nick nods agreeingly.
“C-can I move?” He asks, and you nod.
“F-Fuck, yes, please,” You whine. Nick slowly begins sliding himself up and down, both of you letting out moans and whimpers.
“Oh- fuck..” Nick gasps, his head falling backwards as he picks up the pace, his hands on your shoulders to support himself. “You- Fuck.. You fill me up so well, pretty boy,” Nick compliments, and your cock twitched. You didn’t even know it could do that.
Your eyes rolled back, as you felt yourself getting increasingly closer to your orgasm. You honestly expected yourself to have finished by now, but your happy you hadn’t.
“I-I think i’m gonna cum,” You warn, your hips beginning to buck upwards, causing Nick to moan loudly.
“F-Fuck! Me too,” He groans as he began clenching around you, only pushing you over the edge. You let out strings of curses as you released inside of him. You had just came, out of your dick. Insane. Not long after, Nick was finishing too, his load shooting onto your stomach.
“Oh. My. God.” You panted, hissing at the loss of contact as Nick pulled you out of him.
“Yeah..” Nick giggled. “You did fucking amazing, my love.” Nick smiles, before slowly standing up, as to not loose his balance.
“You did too. Thank you,” You sighed, before sitting up. “And where the fuck do you think you’re going, sir?” You questioned. “Am I not supposed to be the one cleaning you up?” You tilted your head and furrowed your eyebrows.
“Nuh-uh. It was your first time.” Nick shrugs, before disappearing into your shared bathroom. He came out shortly later, with a wet and dry rag. On his way back, he grabbed both of you a fresh pair of boxers.
He laid down next to you as he wiped you off with the wet rag, and drying the access water off with the dry towel. He then placed a kiss on your head, as he slipped your boxers on.
“You’re amazing. Y’know that?” You smiled, pulling him into you after he cleaned himself off.
“Yeah, I know.” He chuckles.
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『 ↳✧・゚ Finn yaps❕ ;
Ermmmm… forget the fact that i forgot to adf the part where nick gets stretched out… AND IM SORRY IF THIS ISN’T.. ‘CORRECT’ AS TO HOW SURGERY GOES, I TRIED TO RESEARCH AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE😿 PLEASE LMK IF ANYTHING IS WRONG🙏🏻
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍
ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso
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4phskingdom · 3 days
Text
Falling for you (and your streams!)
ch.17- end
[very short chapter :(( written part after 2 screenshots]
•°○•°●•°○•°●•°○•°●•°○•°●•°○•°●•°○•°●
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5 months into dating
"Megs, it's 4am. What could you possib-," your words were cut short after seeing a charcuterie board displayed nicely on the white snow, two glasses of pinot sitting next to the board. You smiled instinctively, looking at Megumi with an expression of disbelief.
"C'mere," he motioned for you to step closer, which you did. He smiled at you genuinely before landing a small kiss on your lips, holding your jaw gently before pulling away.
You chased his lips, pulling him back in before wrapping your arms around his neck, smiling widely as he did the same. The two of you pulled away while you smirked at him, "You're so stupid," Megumi rolled his eyes playfully, looking into your eyes with adoration.
"I love you."
Your eyes widened before relaxing again, smiling up at the black-haired male.
"I love you too."
"To think, in a little less than a year, I would be saying those words. You really had me falling for you," you muttered, taking a bite out of the cheese and fruits. Megumi chuckled, taking a sip from his glass.
"Me too. You had me wrapped around your finger," he smiles, giving you a small peck before continuing his thoughts,
"You had me falling for you...
and your streams."
•°○•°●•°○•°●•°○•°●•°○•°●•°○•°●•°○•°●
end of chapter 17!
-NAAAAAHHH ITS OVER :(((
-im so sorry it took me so long my 1st semester started recently and ITS BEEN SO HECTIC BECAUSE IM LEARNING SO MUCH IN LIKE 2 DAYS ITS WILD
-Hopefully i will start writing again on the weekends but ill update all of you
-thank you so much for the support and ill see you in the next fic!! mwah!! xoxo
taglist: @1l-ynn @hvnyacoded @hopeladybug @r0ckst4rjk @morgyyyyyyy @gojotoyourgeto @nyxlai @mixzimi @mellozhi @lysaray @kodzuchar @iamyujisbitch @luvlybeom @eternalalmondd @vivi-loves-penguins @stardusthyuck @polarbvnny @we-loveebony @maya-maya-56 @k3lbade @morinuu @royalz658 @dreamxiing @sugurubabe @arysbruv
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bonefall · 1 day
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My birthday was a couple days ago, and I got to see my bio dad for the first time in a while. He surprised me with the fact that I have a little half-sister, whom I've never met and who was adopted about two years back. So, I wondered if any situations in BB mimic this or have a theme of "secret siblings" or "secret family"? Sorry if this is a weird ask; this blog is honestly just such a cool little place and I love the way you approach the subject matter and take the flawed misogynistic foundation of the WC books and make them so much better (JUSTICE FOR BUMBLE!!!). I've also learned a lot about healthy and unhealthy relationships here and am really glad for your deep dives on Squilf and Bramble. Thanks, Bones!
Not weird at all! I really like exploring all the little nooks and crannies of complicated familial dynamics. I think one of the untapped strengths of WC (that the writers seem to be unaware of) is how their MASSIVE cast allows them to present all sorts of unique dynamics. So I like to pick up on it, since they don't.
For secret siblings...
I'm pretty heavily leaning towards Ambermoon being adopted by Wildfur, as a surrogacy. Something feels correct about it. Especially since Icecloud is getting retooled into a post-Battle of the True Eclipse birth, and a major supporting character in AVoS-era stories as a friend of Alderheart.
Thinking about it, I should zoom in and expand this. Maybe have Icecloud, somehow, acquire forbidden knowledge that would invalidate the Queen’s Rights and he (transman) struggles with if he's going to use it to expose his parents as an excuse to help Ambermoon.
(Especially since Ambermoon and Icecloud are basically nothing alike. Amber is independent, bold, and vain. Ice is jessie pinkman big-hearted, disorganized, and deceptively meek if you look past his "chill" demeanor)
But that's wip-- there's also Breezepelt and the Three, who are going to have an actual friendship. In particular I can't unsee Breeze and Lion having a deep one. I know I commit the Cardinal Sin of borderline himbo-ifying Lionblaze in BB, but I can't help it.
Hollyleaf ended up nabbing a bunch of his most violent roles to make her villainous descent smoother narratively, so BB!Lionblaze's story ends up being more focused on Ashfur's abuse, comic relief with cats in other Clans (something that the very serious Jay and Holly have a hard time providing), and the emotional fallout of the big reveal and Bramblestar's turn on them. Breezepelt slots neatly into that.
They were friends. Lionblaze's whole life came down around the reveal, everyone looking at him and his siblings differently, like they're suddenly something terrible. Why can't we find a silver lining, Breezepelt? Why can't we call ourselves brothers if the whole world is going to do it anyway? So much is changing, but THIS doesn't have to, we will take their weapon and turn it to armor, my ally, my friend, my brother.
(and when Breezepelt is lashing out at the three because of the Dark Forest's influence, Lionblaze is there, taking the blows and trying not to give in to the impulse to send him flying with a single paw)
There's also Harespring and Kestrelflight of WindClan and Owlclaw of ShadowClan. All of them are from a single litter between Whitewater and Mudclaw. She was going to raise the three of them alone as ShadowClan cats, but when the sire was smote, Whitewater felt they were cursed.
She was able to give the oldest two to their bio-uncle, Torear, but the weather was so bad that day and the runt was so sickly and small that it surely would have killed him. I don't think Owlclaw ever finds out why his mother always treated him with suspicion, but it did mess him up horribly.
Over in BB!DOTC, Thunder Storm is getting more half-siblings earlier. Clear Sky and Falling Feather had two daughters-- Pale Sky and Tiger Sky.
I want to explore the way that the various stages of Clear Sky's life acted on his kids. How any little curiosity Thunder Storm had about the life he might have had if he wasn't abandoned is crushed by seeing kittens who weren't. How Clear's favoritism of his oldest child set the trio against each other from the start. How this idea of "love" is toxic yet intoxicating.
It feels good to be the golden child. The power it gives you over his sycophants is satisfying. To know you, and you alone, have what someone else craves. Problem is, that's conditional, and it's cruel.
What Thunder Storm learns from his time with his biodad is that Clear Sky is not his father at all. He's taught him exactly what he DOESN'T want to be. There may be similarities-- in temperament, in physical prowess (though BB!Thunder is three-legged, he's still ripped), in taste and senses. But Thunder Storm's father is Shaded Flower.
(BB!Gray Wing died in the first book, rescuing Shaded Flower from being trampled by a horse. Xey're a patron of wisdom, Shaded Moss is taking the role of fatherhood to Thunder)
His sister is Rainswept Flower. His mom is Bright Storm. If there was a bond he could have had with Tiger Sky and Pale Sky, it dies simply and cruelly on the knife they used to cut each other out.
Pale might have wanted to mend it, she was the gentler one. But she dies in the First Battle along with her mother. Tiger Sky is too stubborn to accept any help, should Thunderstar offer it, and Thunderstar isn't in the business of begging for others to like him.
Naturally I'm lowkey obsessed with them lmao. I need to make a BB!DOTC overviewww
#I have a perspective on half siblings colored by a dynamic in my family#The generation above me has two siblings who had an awful biodad and an amazing stepdad (who did officially adopt them)#And there was nothing ''natural'' or good about how one of them was obsessed with their biodad.#It was influenced by his surroundings and did nothing but drag an incredibly toxic man back into his sister's life#Over and over#But anyway the son used to tell me ''theres no half in siblings''#The daughter adored her halfbrother through the mother who raised them-- but was adamant that her biodad's newer kids were nothing to her#I guess I agree with the son. But not in the way he believes it#There's no half in siblings because you either Are. Or you are Not.#You have a shared experience with having that person as a parent or you don't. And that's what's unchanging.#It's not the blood; it's the sweat and tears. But anyhoo#Personal details of my life aside#Tiger Sky and Pale Sky are Clear's Dead Angel Fetus Children in-canon. I think that was Weird.#So instead I made them. Not. Dead angel fetus children....#They're characters now lmaoo#Better bones au#I think Tiger Sky (i call her Tigs in my head a lot) is one of my favorite kit saves ever though#She's not going to be from the last litter either. I haven't picked who the mom is yet but he does have even more#At least one of those is going to make a grab at power but um. Sparrow Heart will not react Well.#BASICALLY lads I'm cooking. My revamps of the DOTC characters basically write themselves because I am very fond of them.#Clear's youngest: ''OH I JUST CANT WAIT TO BE KI-"#Sparrowstar: ''-lled.''
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skitchskatchbat · 10 hours
Text
Fiesty - Part 2
Omegaverse Au Omega Houses Societal pressures Shitty Parenting
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Eddie was having a hard time breathing through his mouth squashed between Wayne and Mr Not-omega Harrington in the back of their car.
He sat shoulders scrunched up, hands on his knees and mouth open so he didn't inhale too much of that delicious scent.
Not-omega was staring at him, blatantly, and Eddie wanted to be pleased he had his attention but he was too scared he'd drop fang if he so much as breathed in his direction.
"Mr Munson, you didn't tell me that your nephew was a mouth breather," the little shit says.
Eddie snaps his mouth shut then almost immediately regrets it and drops it open again. Wayne of course just chuckles at him.
"Boy just doesn't want to drop fang," Wayne says, a grin tucked under his fuzzy moustache and Eddie wants to shave it off because ROOD.
Mr not-omega looks at him, brow furrowed.
"You're trying not to drop fang?"
Eddie can only nod in response because he can already feel the tickle of the other man's cigar smell, leather just under that and to Eddie it's delectable.
"Ed's always had interesting taste in partner," Wayne says, "Mr Harrington, I was surprised to find you in that omega house, what happened since I last saw you? And boy, it's just Wayne, none of that Mister business," Hazel eyes shift from Eddie then.
He looks away, out the window of the moving car. The building lights flickering as they roll past.
"I… didn't present the way my father wanted. He's always wanted a big strong alpha, next head of the family. Instead, he got me, almost omega yet not,"
Eddie huffs a breath through his mouth and takes a chance. "Almost omega?"
"I presented as… I don't know what to be honest. I did go straight into heat, the searing pain of developing that extra accessory, but at the same time...I don't scent like an omega, my mating gland is small, and…I can still knot," he says this all to the window, not looking at the two alphas.
"It's Steve, Harrington is the shithead who decided that a womb equals omega in his eyes and I deserved to be sold off.
"Son thats, well to be frank that's shit. Never did like your old man though, can't say Dick Harrington's ever been nice to me in my life,"
Steve turns, eyes wet and looks at Wayne right over Eddie.
"Thanks, yeah, so now I've got no money, no family. Nothing not until you came.
"Am I missing something here?" Eddie interrupts "How do you two even know each other?"
Wayne laughs again.
"Steve here interned for me a year ago, wanted to learn from someone that wasn't under his dad's hand and that, in our business, is only me,"
"Harrington Hauls sees all," Steve mutters.
Eddie looks between the two and squeezes his knees.
"Well, we still haven't told you what we actually need from you," he says, taking breathes through his mouth.
"You need an omega don't you," Steve says disgruntled.
"We do," Wayne says amicably.
"Well, I do," Eddie says, rubbing his nose. Cigar tickling it more.
"I assumed, so what do you need me to do? It's not like i've got much choice and you're the only alpha I'd trust not to abuse me,"
"Woah woah woah, I mean yeah, but shit kid,"
"I'm 20 I'm not a kid," Steve growls at him, eyes flashing and teeth sharpening.
Eddie can only stare. "Fascinating,"
"Well, what do you want?"
"A mate,"
"I'm not mating you. I don't even know you,"
"I just need people to believe I'm going to mate,"
"Fake engaged?" Steve says, suspicion leaving his eyes just a smidge.
"Yep, for a year at least and since it needs to be a close believable engagement I need someone as a year-long companion who doesn't mind being in close quarters and scent-bound,"
Steve seems to ponder on it.
"Just to get those omega pushers off your back?"
"Just last week someone mailed me an omega in a crate to the house, it's getting bad,"
"IN A CRATE?"
"Yep,"
"Look, I just need a friend, a very close friend and I will give you anything you need, resources, care, support, you're more than welcome to pursue whatever you want, I just need a mate for a year,"
Wayne chimes in with "He's not a bad boy Steve, I raised him after all,"
Eddie flushes red and inhales, only for his fangs to drop right out at the bright bitter cigar scent, orange, leather, and grass, it was so beautiful this smell, this gorgeous person in front of him.
"Woah, you weren't kidding about the fang drop, you really like my scent don't you?"
Eddie nods, a pitiful whine coming out from his throat.
"Okay, I think. Alright. We can do this, but I would like an allowance, a separate room and access to medical professionals,"
Steve reaches forward and slides a hand through Eddie's hair, scratching gently at his scalp.
Eddie's head tips to the side and slides onto Steve's shoulder, he can't control the deep purr that started in his chest.
"You've got a deal Steve, I only request you don't harm my nephew,"
"Alright," Steve says softly, looking at Eddie in wonder.
"But just so that we're clear. I'm not an omega, I'm an alpha. I know it and once the year is up I'm going to be that alpha," Steve says.
And Eddie, high on that scent, nods, because honestly, it's the best idea he's heard.
---
Tag list: @xxbottlecapx @cryptid-system
Enjoy!
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terriwriting · 1 day
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Hi. My name is Terry and I went into debt during the pandemic lockdowns. Some of it was because I had to break a lease to escape a building the landlords were turning into a slum (elevator was broken for nearly a year, roaches overran the place, next door neighbour was throwing coke parties all night). For a while things were okay, but then the rising cost of living and rising interest rates made that debt unsustainable. Now I'm lurching from one crisis to the next and I need to get out from under this debtload before it crushes me. Everything donated to this fundraiser will go directly to paying down that debt, because it is the single biggest problem in my life and makes every other problem worse.
I actually owe over $10,000, but I have one Guaranteed Investment Certificate left over from years ago when I was able to save money. That matures in August and I've already made arrangements with my bank to have it applied directly to my debt. The GIC is for just over $7,000, which leaves me with $3,000+ to pay off somehow.
Currently I make just enough to cover bare minimums (rent, utilities, groceries) and if I can get extra shifts I can keep up on interest payments. But if I can't get those extra shifts or if I miss a shift I fall further behind. And sometimes I get enough to pay the interest, but I get it too late in the month to pay by the due date and still end up being charged a late fee. For a while I was making headway on the debt, then the cost of living went up and I was just breaking even. Then both the cost of living and interest rates went up and now I'm barely hanging on by my fingernails.
I have tried to make up the difference by cutting back. I've reduced my phone and internet services to the lowest levels available, and I try to keep my power usage to a minimum. Water is included in my rent but the area I live in is in drought conditions and water bills are going up. Property taxes are also going up in the region. My rent will probably go up at the end of my lease, whether I stay in this place or try to find a new one. Every apartment in this city is too expensive now, and my landlords have actually been comparatively reasonable in raising rent.
The cost of living has gone up too fast for me to keep up with, and I can't make my interest payments or reduce this debt on my own. Every small setback becomes a crisis, and I've made two posts here to cover things like vet bills and end of month bills. If I can reduce my interest payments immediately and reduce my debt over the next few months, I can get out of this spiral. If I can't, I'm going to keep tripping from one crisis to the next until I fall completely.
It's not all bad news. I have a couple of ongoing writing projects that might actually earn some money. My cats are healthy (thanks to everyone who donated to my previous fundraiser). And I have an apartment that is close enough to shopping and work that I don't need a car. I'd be doing alright if not for this debt. So: Everything donated to this fundraiser will go directly to paying down that debt, because it is the single biggest problem in my life and makes every other problem worse.
Thank you for reading this.
28 March:
$15/$3100. Thank you!
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garrison-girl-08 · 10 hours
Text
The Other Woman
Ongoing Series Part 159 - More here
Pairing- Cillian Murphy and Reader - Not based on real life.Thank you for your support, would love to hear your thoughts!
Please note- there will be a time hop in this. I am so behind on Oscars, and awards season for this story. Sorry!
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"Shit," you panicked, pushing him off you. Hobbling to the bathroom, to try and clean yourself up. To try and get his cum out of you. You hadn't even been taking any birth control. Not wanting any hormones to interfere with your body, when you were breastfeeding.
"Shit, shit," you huffed.
Cillian lay back on the bed, feeling satisfied with himself. God, he had missed being buried deep inside of you. That was what you had both needed, to reconnect again. Wiping yourself with tissue, you started to panic, turning the shower on. To try and clean yourself up.
Cillian appeared in the doorway, his cock still hard. “He is ready for round two?" he winked, stroking his hand along his shaft.
"How can we be so stupid?" you panicked, washing yourself in the shower. Trying to rinse his cum out of you.
"Babe, you can't get pregnant when you are breastfeeding," he frowned, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. Like it was no big deal. It wasn't his body, he didn't have to worry.
"Of course you bloody can! That is an old wives tale," you vented. Was he actually that stupid!!
Beginning to dry yourself with the towel, imaging yourself with two babies under a year old. Cillian away working, you pacing the floor all night. You felt you could barely cope, with one baby.
"We will have to get the morning after pill," you scowled, pulling your clothes back on. The moment of passion now forgotten. The whole argument this morning, now forgotten.
"Really?" Cillian frowned, heading for the shower. "Is that not a bit extreme, Y/n?"
Standing under the water, he let his head fall back. Washing away the hangover, the stress of yesterday. The questions he would have to answer, over the pictures online.
"Extreme?" you hissed, as you heard the font door close, followed by Niamh crying and Scout barking. "Extreme is two babies under one, you will have to sort it out," you pointed at him, pulling your hoodie back over your head. "Get someone to do it,"
"Me?" Cillian called back, "Who?"
Eventually agreeing to stay, for the rest of the weekend. You were soon back at the festival with Cillian, and his family. Having changed into a dress, boots and tights. You had curled your hair, and applied make up. Feeling like you had a point to prove. No one was going to take your man.
You were united.
Cillian hadn't left your side all afternoon, holding hands as you walked to the green room. Niamh strapped against his chest, he pressed a kiss into your hair. Inhaling your coconut shampoo. Closing the door, you both found Lyndsey rifling through a carrier bag.
"Oh hey, here take this now," she spoke up, handing you the bag. "It is safe to take when you are breastfeeding, I asked them and also read the leaflet,"
The morning after pill, sat inside the carrier bag. You had both had no choice, but to task Lyndsey with going to get it. She didn't mind, it was part of her job. She had said, and had made no judgement. Popping the pill out, you swallowed it with some water.
"Honestly Lyndsey, thank you so much. I know this is embarrassing. It won't happen again," you explained, "We do really appreciate you doing this, don't we Cill?" You could see him blushing, as he scrolled through his phone.
"Yeah, yeah, thanks," he mumbled, wanting to crawl into a corner and hide. Patting Niamh on the back, as she began to stir.
"We have all been there," she smiled, "Anyway thought you might need these too, here catch," Cillian lifted his hands up, as she threw a box of condoms at him. Both yourself and Lyndsey, bursting into a fit of giggles.
(Time Hop)
Bustling around your kitchen counter, you bent to check the chicken in the oven. "Alexa, set a timer for twenty minutes," you spoke up. Shooing Scout away, back outside into the garden. Checking Niamh's video baby monitor. Still napping, good, it gave you more time.
"How many people are coming to this party?" your mother asked.
Oh yes, your mother was here. It had been a few busy weeks for you all. Cillian had been away for awards season. You had joined him for the Oscars, taking Niamh and Niall with you.
You had flown home yesterday morning, Cillian was arriving today. You had planned a party for him, all of his friends and family. Lots of drinks and food. Your mother was meant to be helping. But she was sitting at the breakfast bar, drinking tea.
"I'm not actually sure, Mum." you answered, finishing lifting cheese out of the fridge. Half listening to her rambling on. She had arrived last night, and had barely put Niamh down since. She hadn't seen her for weeks, so you were trying to be patient.
"Could you not have got caterers in?" she questioned, "Cillian must be able to afford it, he just won an Oscar,"
Trying not to groan, you looked towards her. "It's not about affording it, I wanted to do it," you answered, trying to keep your smile fixed. She was not going to spoil this day. “Can you check the beef, in the slow cooker please?”
Putting her cup down, she leant back in her chair, eyes fixed on yours. "You know something, Y/n. You look beautiful, your figure in that dress, and," she paused, swallowing harshly. "You look happy. Motherhood really suits you,"
Freezing at the table, you put the cheese down. Had she actually just paid you a compliment? Was she feeling ok?
"Thank you," you answered, suddenly feeling emotional. "I have my big girl support knickers on," you laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
Standing, she put her arm on your elbow. "Take the compliment, you had a baby eight weeks ago. You look stunning, Cillian is a lucky man. I hope he realises that. After the pictures in the paper, I mean....."
"Thanks Mum," you answered, feeling uneasy. You weren't used to this affection from her. Did she want something? "We don't need to discuss that again, do we?"
"Oooh she's awake, I will go," Your Mum announced, watching the monitor. Hastily rushing upstairs, to her grand daughter. "You check that beef, Y/n,"
Hearing the doorbell, you marched through the house to answer. Revealing Liv and her partner Seb, her baby bump proudly on show. "Aw thank god, come in, come in. Hi Seb," Greeting them with a hug, you all walked through to the kitchen.
"My mother is being nice to me," you whispered, "I don't know why, I'm on edge I need a glass of wine,"
Frowning, Seb looked between you both, "Sorry Seb, you haven't met her yet. She's ... challenging," you explained, as she walked in holding Niamh.
"Nannie's little princess is awake, yes she is," she cooed, cradling Niamh, rocking her from side to side. She didn't even like being rocked, she like being upright. "Oh, Olivia, lovely to see you again, and who is this handsome man?"
Leaving them to chat, you carried on with the food. Wanting to make this day special for Cillian. No doubt he would be jet lagged, but still riding on the adrenaline of his Oscar win. He knew about the party, a few quiet drinks he had agreed to.
An hour later, the party was in full swing. You were rushing around, making sure everyone had a drink. Niamh loving the attention of people. Liv was cradling her chatting away, earning little smiles from your daughter.
“You are a natural,” you whispered in her ear, resting your head on her shoulder. “She loves her Aunty Liv, don’t you?” Niamh cooed up at you, her little arms waving.
“It’s easy, when you can hand them back,” she sighed, rubbing her own bump. "We are going to find out the sex, of the baby next week. You want to come?"
"Really!! Of course I do," you clapped your hands excitedly. "If it's ok with Seb of course, I don't want to intrude on your special moment,"
"He is like a dear in headlights, with this whole thing. I don't know... if he even wants this baby," blinking away tears, you wrapped your arm around her. "Anyway, I want you there,"
"Then I will be there," you promised. "It will feel more real when you know, then we can go shopping,"
Scout’s incessant barking, signalled Cillian’s arrival. Leaving Niamh with Liv, you skipped through the house. Excited to see him, it had only been a day. But it felt longer, you were apart more than you were together lately.
Excusing yourself, through the crowd gathered around him. You finally reached him.
“Welcome home, Oscar winner,” you teased, letting him pick you up. Giving you a bear hug, even in a crowded room. It felt like it was just the two of you. Having your special moment. Burying his head into your hair, he kissed your neck.
“I’m so glad to be back, I love you,” holding your face, he kissed you. All of your visitors cheering him on.
“Come and see your cake,” you begged him, pulling him through the crowd. People desperate to congratulate him, on his win. Your house decorated with red, black and gold balloons. Congratulations banners draped over doorways. He deserved this special day.
“Wow, you make it?” He chuckled, arms snaking around your waist.
“Of course not, they added the little girl on top,” you replied, nudging him. “It's so cute, anyway welcome home,”
"We are all back together, baby," he winked, wrapping his arms around you.
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Tags - @mitchiesdungeon @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @being-worthy @ntmynouis @thenattitude @katsav17 @answer-the-sirens @kathrinemelissa @queenshelby@geminiwolves @lyarr24 @ysmmsy@margoo0 @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @dolllol2405 @misselsbells06@cheekybluefox @alreadybroken-ts @vousmemanqueez-blog @peaky-cillian @look-at-the-soul@lespendy @cillmequick @raychhh @captivatedbycillianmurphy @castellandiangelo @midnightmagpiemama @elenavampire21@camilleholland89 @cljordan-imperium @peakyscillian @muhahaha303 @already-broken144 @pono-pura-vida @kmc1989 @amberpanda99 @sherbitdibdab @bernelflo @trixie23 @cilloak @lau219 @in0320@stilestotherescue @girlwith-thepearlearring @blondie-22 @brummiereader @neonpurplestars89-blog @danzer8705
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I cannot tell you how loyal I feel the support has been from your beautiful country over the years! 11 years ago, everyone was wearing orange just like tonight, thank you for wearing the orange, you all look fabulous!
Niall thanking fans for committing to the orange dress code for tonight’s concert in Amsterdam
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sadisticsongbird · 2 days
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playing god's game ~ coriolanus snow
three
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warnings: coryo throwing a temper tantrum and FINALLY some tension, swearing here and there
word count: 4.1k, shes a long one
a/n: THANK YOU AGAIN for all of the love and support that you guys have given this series so far. i am so blessed to be a part of this fandom and have readers that enjoy my work. (you guys aren't ready for the coming chapters)
a/n part two: if you would like to be added to the taglist for this series, please fill out this form. all of the information is anonymous if you are worried about that, but otherwise, HAPPY READING!
series masterlist
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All eyes felt like they were on you as you disconnected from the crowd of students and moved towards the front. Your hands grasped the strap on your bag, knuckles begging to turn white from the grip. As you passed by the 23 and stood in front of the Dean, you were sure you were dreaming. 
“Ms. Stillwater, please. Have a seat.”
You hesitated as you turned away from Highbottom and spotted the empty seat directly behind Sejanus next to Festus Creed. You made your way over, sure to avoid the glares being directed at you as you placed yourself amongst the group, feeling awfully out of place. The red uniform was an eyesore amongst the expensive suits and custom dresses. You set your bag down under your chair, careful not to cause commotion. 
“You are all hear, eager to learn what your final task will be and who's won that Plinth Prize, no doubt. And a golden future. However, as you know, there has been a change this year. One final assignment to prove your worth. Because…” 
The dean paused, almost as if he was about to regret his words. “...the esteemed citizens of the Capitol have grown bored of the Games and simply aren't watching anymore. And if the Games are to continue at all, there must be an audience. So, Head Gamemaker Dr. Gaul has stepped in to...incentivize patriotic values with her own unique flair, starting with you. The Plinth Prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades.”
“Excuse me?” Arachne whispered in front of you. 
A gasp resounded in the auditorium. If this project had nothing to do with grades, what then would determine the Plinth Prize winner. And what did Dr. Gaul’s presence have to do with anything? The mumbling continued as the dean kept speaking. 
“But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games.”
The room seemed to deafen as all of the 24 students stiffened. You could’ve sworn you saw Festus choke beside you. Your eyes bore into the back of Sejanus’s head. He had to have known that this was it. It was no wonder he was in such a mood this morning. Over and over, every year, he dreads this day, knowing that he should be amongst his old peers in District 2, awaiting his name to be drawn as well. But the fact that he was here and that there was nothing that he could do to stop it had adrenaline running through his veins. You so desperately wanted him to turn around and face you, but the way that his face was turned down towards the ground told you that he couldn’t look anyone in the eye. 
“This is a brand new role. As the Reaping progresses live, I will allocate each district tribute a Capitol mentor behind the scenes, one who must just persuade them to perform for the cameras,” the dean continued. 
“Obviously, the best mentor will be the one whose tribute wins the Games,” Festus argued. 
Sitting ahead of you, Arachne Crane also spoke up. “What if I get a pathetic runt girl from one of the poor districts, like 8 or 12? They're just gonna die in two minutes like they did last year and the year before.”
You hadn’t even thought about that yet. Just the matter of having to mentor a tribute made your heart stop. This was all coming to you too soon. Just last night, you had thought that your future was over, but now, here you sat, waiting for your name to be called alongside a tribute like an auction. 
“Your role is to turn these children into spectacles, Ms. Crane. Not survivors,” Highbottom enunciated the last word. “Victory in the Games is only one of our considerations. Your entire future rests on this last project. Oh, and I must tell you that anyone caught cheating to give their tributes an unfair advantage,” he laughs, “will just have no future at all.”
A brass anthem played above the dean's words, announcing the start of the Reaping. The screens above the podium where Dr Gaul stood moments before turned on, bringing all the students a live feed from the district stages as the Reapings progressed. Highbottom sat down on the stairs in front of Coriolanus, drawing your eyes to his rigid form. He seemed immoveable, head held high as he waited for his assignment. 
“District 1. Boy goes to Livia Cardew.” 
A slight applause sounded as the girl across the room from you blushed and gasped to her friends sitting beside her. 
“Girl goes to Palmyra Monty. District 2 boy.” The dean paused, seemingly trying to hold in a small laugh. “How apt. Boy goes to Sejanus Plinth.”
Your best friend didn’t move. Which means, he knew. He whoever was plucked in the Reaping would be handed to him. Without a doubt, you believed that his father probably bought the tribute for Sejanus. Why else would he so openly fight with his father? Sejanus may not agree with his father’s choice all of the time, but he never went as far as to argue with him. The only time you had ever seen Sejanus yell at Strabo in front of you was when you were both eleven. 
Ma and Strabo had taken you both to shop for new clothes. Sejanus was inconsolable as he cried in the middle of the boutique about how he wished that he was home, dressing in dust filled clothing among his TRUE family instead of trying on clothes that felt like they would choke him. It was almost as if the suits and uniforms knew that he wasn’t truly Capitol. When his father came to reprimand him, Sejanus stood and yelled at his father, causing a scene and directing stares towards you and the Plinths. You were sent home shortly after that with a message from Ma that it would be a while before you were allowed to see your best friend again. 
“You got the pick of the litter,” you heard Coriolanus whisper to Sejanus, more casually than you would have expected. 
“You forget. I'm part of that litter.” Sejanus’s voice was filled with disgusted, seething as he spoke. You leaned forward to place a hand on his shoulder, only for it to be received with a shrug, shaking your hand from its place. Coriolanus looked over at the interaction, smirking when he saw that your friend wanted nothing to do with you. Embarrassed, you leaned back in your chair, continuing to listen to Highbottom read of the names of District 3. 
“4, boy, Y/N Stillwater. Girl, Festus Creed.”
“Congratulations,” Festus said, leaning over to you and holding out his hand for you to shake. You met his hand in the middle, hoping that he wouldn’t say anything about your sweaty palm. “Guess we’ll be working together.” 
You tried to give the sincerest smile to him that you could, nervous about working with him. He hadn’t been the kindest to you since he found out about your friendship with Sejanus, dismissive of the district boy. Taking your hand from his, you processed the information. You had a career tribute and a boy nonetheless. While it wasn’t unheard of for a girl to win, the male careers lasted longer because of the jobs that they were given in the districts. The dean did say that winning did not determine the winner of the prize, but it would most certainly have the most influence on the decision. 
Coriolanus tried to seem unaffected as the first half the tributes were read off and his name didn’t follow. Even though things were different, the dean still seemed to find a way to sabotage his chances. The numbers continued to count down. 8, 9, 10, 11. Yet his name still wasn’t read, making him shift in his chair, trying to maintain his composure. 
Your attention was directed back to the Reaping as they progressed into the smaller, less important districts, You kept hearing names getting called on, followed by mixed responses depending on the appearance of the tribute on the screens above. 
“Oh. You'll be happy about this, Ms. Crane. The ‘runt girl’, from District 12,” the dean said, standing to face the half of you. “She belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”
No noise was made in response as the mayor read off the female tribute's name on stage in 12. “Lucy Gray Baird.”
Amongst the crowd of teenagers stepped out a girl with dark hair, the color of chocolate and a dress that was as colorful as something you would see in the Capitol, pinks, purples, oranges, and yellows in the fabric. 
“What is that dress? Is she some sort of clown?” Arachne punched fun at Lucy Gray’s attire which you thought was a bold statement. It seemed to send a message that she didn’t fit in with the other girls of District 12. 
The camera tracked her path as she walked in between the split crowd of guys and girls. On her way a boy stopped her, grabbing her arm, but she recoiled from the gesture, keeping her head held high as she walked to the front. Just as she was to cross to the stairs, Lucy Gray Baird disrupted her path to reach for another girl’s dress and placed something in her neckline. The girl’s screams filled the auditorium over the speakers, making Coriolanus stand up to see what his tribute had done. 
“My daughter! Help her!” the mayor shouted from the stage, reaching his hand out towards the girl. Peacekeepers held him back, however, as two other guards assisted his daughter. The cameras panned to the scene, revealing a small snake wriggling out of the bottom of her dress as she collapsed on the floor. 
As Lucy Gray walked up the stairs, she made her way to the mayor to shake his hand as her male partner, Jessup Diggs, had done moments ago. Rather than being met with a handshake, the mayor’s hand met your face with a slap, leaving both the auditorium and the crowd in the districts with a resounding gasp. Peacekeepers dragged the mayor back further, pulling him to the chairs in the back of the stage. Another tried to reach a hand out to Lucy Gray who was on the floor. Instead of taking it, she held her hand out, whispering something inaudible to the cameras. Suddenly a small voice was heard over the screens, singing. 
“Can’t take my past, can’t take my hist’ry. You could take my pa, but his name’s a mystery.”
Lucy Gray’s voice took over the tune. “Nothin’ you can take from me was ever worth keepin’. Nothin’ you can take was ever worth keepin’.”
“Singing? Is she out of her mind?” Arachne commented for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning. Like she could ever understand what these kids have gone through. You pushed off her comment, however, and continued to listen to the saccharine voice over the speakers. 
“Can’t take my charm, can’t take my humor. You could take my wealth cuz it’s just a rumor.” She got up from her spot on the ground and made her way over to the microphone where the mayor had been standing. “Nothin’ you can take was ever worth keepin’.” 
The tune seemed to be familiar to you, one you feel you could’ve heard before, but you brushed it off. You told yourself that the melody must have been a common one because there was no way that you could’ve known a song from the districts. But you couldn’t help but hum along. This got you a stare from Festus beside you, making you stop, hoping that nobody else had heard it. 
Lucy took the mic off of the stand, beginning to put on more of a performance for the audience both in the districts and the ones she had to know were in the Capitol. “You can’t take my sass, you can’t take my talkin’.” She took a deep breath before screaming her lungs out into the microphone. “YOU CAN KISS MY ASS!”
If the murmurs weren’t loud enough in the auditorium, they sure were now. Dropping the mic, the District 12 girl took a bow. Everyone’s eyes were on Coriolanus, laughing under their breath about how unlucky the boy must be to have someone as crazy as her. But all you had in your heart was jealousy. The dean did say that it wasn’t about winning. It was about getting your tribute to perform. Coriolanus didn’t need to assist his tribute in that front. She was doing well enough on her own. 
“Well she’s mentally ill.” Coriolanus wanted to slap Arachne for her words. She perhaps was just jealous she was stuck with someone from District 10 and he had someone with courage. 
Coriolanus looked around, feeling the stares that he was receiving. But all he could do was smile. His ‘runt girl’ had more spunk than he thought. While she was practically skin and bones to look at, there was a fire behind her, one that he seemed to be missing, that could quite possibly give her more of a shot in the games than he thought. 
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After the ceremony, Coriolanus had found a spot outside of the auditorium after everybody had been dismissed to class. He made sure that no one was near before reaching into his bag and pulling out a cloth of food he had snuck from the front tables this morning. Practically shoving the pieces of bread in his mouth, he longed to stop the growls of his empty stomach. He had given up food this morning for his grandmother and he knew that he wasn’t going to last until lunch. Before he could even begin on his second piece, someone cleared his throat from behind him. At the noise, he quickly bundled up his scraps and shoved them back into the pocket of his bag, making sure he was presentable enough before turning around. 
“Proud, I see. Like your father,” the dean told him. At that, Coriolanus gave a strange look to the man in front of him. His father was a famous general, but his father was emotionless, cold to everyone except his family. Even then, at the death of his mother and baby sister, Coriolanus never received the same love from his father anymore, left to a lonely life. “Yes. He and I were best friends. Once. Enlighten me, Mr. Snow. What are your plans after these Games?”
Coriolanus stood proudly. “I hope to go on to the University, sir. Naturally.”
“And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?” 
“We'd pay the tuition, of course,” the blonde said firmly, hoping he masked his concern well enough. If he didn’t win the Plinth Prize, he could consider his education, his name, his life, over. 
“Look at you. Your makeshift shirt and your too tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snows don't have a pot to piss in.” Highbottom gave him a pitiful look, making him break his gaze from the short man only a few feet away. “Good luck with that poor little songbird.”
The dean’s voice carried as he walked down the hallway, away from Snow. As the shoes began to carry closer to you, you tucked yourself behind a pillar, much like the one where Coriolanus was standing in front of. You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on their conversation, but you wanted to talk to Highbottom after the ceremony, but he had spent an awful lot of time talking to Dr. Gaul. You had been waiting outside until you heard the doors open. Though you thought it was Highbottom, you were unpleasantly surprised at Coriolanus walking out. The whole time the two were talking, you tried to stay as quiet as you could, but when you heard a shout and a clatter, you felt like screaming. 
“FUCK!” Coriolanus shouted, throwing his bag off at one of the statues near him, leaving all of his stuff to fall out of his bag and scatter over the floor. He could not believe the audacity that the dean had to screw his life over like this. Something must have happened between his father and Highbottom to make him this set on destroying his life. 
You peeked around the pillar to see him, getting down on the ground to pick up the mess that he created. Something in you told you to go over and help, but you stayed glued in your spot, worried what the boy would think of you spying on him. As he finished slipping everything back into his bag, however, he looked over, spotting your head peeking out and watching him. When your eyes met his, you shot back behind the pillar, clenching your jaw for being so nosy. 
“Hello?”
You didn’t say anything back. 
“Who are you? How long have you been here?”
Again, you stayed quiet, hoping that he would just walk away, too ashamed to actually face you. You blocked out the sight and noise of the hall, hoping that if you couldn’t see him, he wouldn’t be able to see you. But you were proven wrong as you felt a hand pull your arm when your eyes were still closed. Before you could open them, Coriolanus was yanking you into the corridor to face him. When he realized it was you, he cursed the gods. Why couldn’t it have been someone not friends with Sejanus? Why did it have to be you? 
“You,” he said, seething. 
“Ow,” you exclaimed, pulling your arm away from him. “The hell are you doing?”
“What the hell are YOU doing? How long have you been standing here?”
You didn’t contemplate your next words very much before spitting in his face just what was on your mind. “Enough to know that Highbottom is trying to screw you over with your tribute.” It created a brief smirk on your face, but that was before you realized what you had just revealed to him. 
“What do you mean?” he asks you, crossing his arms to seem unbothered by your truthful comment. 
Clenching your bag strap at his cockiness, you wanted to scream in his face that you knew about the fact that he wouldn’t be able to go onto University without the Prize. You wanted to yell at him for lying about how well off he was. But you couldn’t. Because he was just like you. Screwed without the prize, without your tribute winning the games. 
“N-nothing,” you chose to answer instead. 
He seemed to calm down after you didn’t give him an explanation. Maybe you didn’t hear as much as he thought. “What are you doing out in the hall, Y/N?” he asked, still angry. 
“I could ask you the same thing.” 
When both of you couldn’t share an explanation, Coriolanus finally spoke up. “Go to class, Stillwater. Just forget about this.”
He brushed past you, his shoulder colliding with yours as he continued down the hall. You looked back at him as he walked away, but he didn’t look at you. After you couldn’t see his face anymore, he let out a sigh of relief. You didn’t know. You didn’t know what apparently Highbottom knew. Lucy Gray HAD to win the games now in order to prove the dean wrong. He brushed his forehead with the back of his hand, wiping away the thin layer of sweat that had grown on from anxiousness. Tomorrow, the tributes would arrive and he could keep his mind occupied with the games. 
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“He's sabotaging us. That girl's not gonna win these Games. You saw her. She's underfed, unstable,” Coriolanus said, pacing back and forth, rolling the rose from his lapel around in his hands. 
“The Dean said it's not just about winning.” Tigris was concerned when Coriolanus came home that afternoon, looking pale as a ghost. But when she had asked him what was wrong, he just stared at her, explaining he would tell her later. 
“Everything is about winning. If not the Games now, then the crowd. Lucy Gray won't survive a minute inside that arena. So that means we have to make every second before then count.” He paused, trying to think of a way to get Lucy Gray to connect in some way with the people of Panem when suddenly, it came to him, making him stop in his tracks. It was so painfully obvious. “I'll get her to sing again.”
“I wouldn't sing a note for you if I was her. I wouldn't do anything at all. Unless I could trust you.”
Coriolanus was disgusted at the notion. Trust? How could he trust someone who came from a place that had tormented Panem and had killed his father? “She's district, Tigris. She knows we hate her, and she wants us dead. How am I supposed to get her to trust me?
“Imagine it was your name that they pulled and you had been ripped from your home,” she argued, trying to keep her voice down as they talked. Grandma’am was sleeping in the other room and the very notion of what Tigris was talking about would give their grandmother a heart attack. “I'd just wanna know that somebody still cared about me out here. Don't discount her just because she's district, Coryo. You might have more in common with her than you think.”
Coriolanus scoffed lightly, not sure if Tigris’s advice would be worth it, let alone if it would actually work. But it wouldn’t hurt to try. He needed all the help he could get in order to ensure the Plinth Prize. Thinking about the prize made him think of his run in with you in the hall today. How much of the conversation with Highbottom had you truly heard? Maybe he was just being paranoid, but he couldn’t bear it if he knew someone out there knew the truth about his family. If the dean already knew, so be it, but one of his classmates? “Do you remember Y/N Stillwater?” he asked his cousin. 
She thought for a minute, trying to conjure up an image of you. “Maybe. Is she the one who’s friends with Sejanus Plinth?” He nodded. “What about her?”
Coriolanus debated saying anything, thinking it silly to even consider saying something to his cousin that would only make her worry. “Do you know much about her? She and I had a...run-in...today and I just wanna make sure she’s not going to be a...problem.”
“I don’t think she’ll be a ‘problem,’ Coryo. From what I know of her, she’s a sweet girl. She’s come down to the fabric shop with the Plinths a few times. Her father passed in the war and her family keeps to themselves.”
He had no idea that your father passed, only assuming that you kept close to the Plinths because of your friendship with Sejanus. And suddenly, he wasn’t too concerned about you anymore. “Just forget I asked. Goodnight, Tigris.” 
Coriolanus got up from his spot, moving to give Tigris a kiss on the cheek before moving to his room. He began to undo the buttons of his father’s shirt, being careful not to pop a button off or rip the thin fabric. The only artifacts he had left of his parents were his father’s shirt, his mother’s scarf, his father’s compass, and his mother’s compact, and he cherished every one. He wondered if you had any symbols of your father from before he died or if your mother would even allow you to keep those reminders in your house. His father didn’t know about the scarf or the compact after his mother’s death and Coriolanus was glad he didn’t because everything else of his mother was thrown into the flames. 
Why his head was now seemingly filled with you, he didn’t know. But what he did know was that he didn’t trust you. If he wanted to ensure that you wouldn’t get in his way, he’d have to befriend you. Better yet, it would allow him to get closer to Sejanus, closer to the Plinths. His head hurt, thinking of all the people he would have to gain trust with for the Prize, but he kept telling himself that it would be worth it. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep, mind wandering and dreaming only nightmares of the day to come.
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gaybybirth · 2 days
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bed of fangs - eleven (nsfw)
Vampire!Eddie Munson x fem!Reader Fantasy/Magic AU
Synopsis: You might've survived the wolf attack, but...you're not so lucky for the bad of the night to end there. When you think it couldn't possibly get any worse, well....
Warnings: angst & nsfw content (violence), descriptions of violence/injuries, descriptions of anxiety/panic/pain, hurt/comfort, eddie's so soft and protective
Word Count: 6.1k
A/N: final chapter!! (for this section of the story!!) it's a little chaotic, so i still hope you enjoy it :) thanks for giving the whole thing a read!!
~*~*~*~*~ = ch break
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When Eddie first joined the troupe, your first introduction was him turning that annoying, cheeky, cocky smile your way. He flashed his fangs like a proud warning. This is who I am. He’d leveled a charismatic, flirty look your way from across the camp. And if you beg, maybe I’ll give you a bite.
You'd kept your hardened expression, then went right back to helping Falcon move some boxes for Pria. You didn't wait and look to see what his reaction had been.
"This is (Y/N)," Falcon had upon moving the last box into the tent. Rain was supposed to fall that night, and it was a quick attempt at protecting the contents. Fliers, tickets, and prizes. "I'm Falcon. Welcome."
“What a warm welcome,” Eddie had teased. His eyes flicked over to you without hesitation. They locked on yours, and you just felt a chill down your spine. It’d been two years, but everything still felt fresh when looking at him. From running from your parents to fleeing from Caldwater. You barely managed a smile.
“Hi,” was all you said.
Falcon gave away the details people only really knew about you then.
“Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck, giving you a pleading look. Be nice. “She’s slow to warm up.” 
And she doesn’t like vampires.
Something you’d been sure he’d tell Eddie later. You never went out of your way to check.
"Really?" Eddie tipped his head back and leveled a smile your way. His eyes had flickered and glowed that similar way Pria's did, and you just shook your head. "I bet I could be the exception."
You gave him another tight smile, fear creeping through your stomach, and accidentally brushed his shoulder as you passed. 
“Don’t bet on it.”
After that, it’d been a rhythm. Polite when together. Supportive when needed when townsfolks asked about his show. But avoidance. Avoidance until you found him bleeding and hurt in his damn tent. 
You’d finally stopped running.
A searing pain shot through you. The sky was dark when your eyes jerked open, and you gasped as the wet ground pressed against you. The moon was visible. The rain had stopped. The ground smelled bloody and dead.
Wolf.
You craned to see a naked man sprawled out in the underbrush. A gaping hole went through his chest and out of his back. His throat was awkwardly cut. That was as far as you’d made it before you were seeing white and you were once again on your back. 
What felt like scabs appeared beneath your hands as you dared to touch your side. 
You winced at the lightest touch.
Fuck.
Move. You had to move. You were still alive, so move. You’d been there long enough for the clouds to clear. You were officially out of time to pretend that nobody was going to catch up with you. That was a timer that’d run out ages ago, surely when you were unconscious. You’d even been pushing it when you got to the end of the bridge. 
You were out of time. 
You screamed as you pushed yourself to your feet. The mud moved beneath your boots, and you did a painful dance of slipping. Slipping and sobbing and slipping some more until you were beside a tree. Your shoulder screamed for a reprieve as you fell against it, huffing, sobbing, wheezing as your vision blurred. 
Move.
Fucking move, (Y/N). 
Mov–
A crackling of breaking wood made you freeze. A rush of wind, a chill in the air. A static charge that made your eyes widen and your head spin. You slumped against the tree, spinning as the sound shifted. Far behind, but not much.
It felt like hell as you put both hands in front and closed them in a fist. Once upon a time, you’d learned how to hold a sword back when you thought you could use that instead of your magic. It felt like your magic was tearing through your muscles as you pushed a continuous bolt of lightning from between your hands. 
You could pretend.
Whatever was there, you could feign strength. 
You could.
The lightning crackled as the forest lit up. 
The sound stopped, and you glanced up. It wasn't a relief to see black eyes blinked back at you. Their face was too familiar. Much like Damen's, it took a moment for the recognition to kick in. This time, it'd come through the fog of pain. A set of long black nails matched the midnight hair. Pale skin stole the white of the moonlight as sharp fangs glinted beneath it. 
Devona? Was that her name?
Newer to the group compared to the others. She’d had a fondness for Ruby.
She’d been there on the bridge before the water struck you.
“He couldn’t be bothered to come himself?” you croaked. 
Maybe he feared you’d do the same to him that you’d done to Ruby. The thought of Kieran being scared of you had never crossed your mind. But what was there to fear? He could slit your throat and be done with you before you could even blink.
You didn’t blink here.
“He sends his regards.” She frowned something wicked as she stepped forward. “He sends his disgust.” She took another step, and you squeezed the bolt harder. It was the wrong magic to use. But you couldn’t get the fire to come. “And he sends his promise that he will never let a delicious, pretty thing like you die.”
You still shoved the bolt forward, and it tore at her skin. It ripped through her face and part of her side, but she seemed unbothered by the pain. Blood dripped from the gashes as her hand closed around your throat, and she lifted. You would've screamed if you could've gotten air in your lungs. 
"He said I can't kill. Nor can I feed." You barely managed to get your hands around her wrist while her nails made new wounds in your neck. "But I can give you a preview of what he has in store for you. For Ruby. For making him starve. Crave what he’s been screaming to replicate.”
Your palms sparked with heat that wouldn’t stay. Her hand squeezed tighter. She was going to break your neck if she didn’t stop. 
“Devona.” 
A sobering wave hit you as a cruel smile crawled up on her sharp features. Her grip loosened just enough that you could steal a breath. Not much, but consciousness remained. You couldn’t see, but she could. Her hair fell out of her face as she tilted her head and turned that smile somewhere behind you. 
“Oh, Eddie.” She chuckled. She made laughter sound disjointed and ugly. “We’d heard you’d fallen into a particularly rough crowd.” She pouted and gave you a little wiggle. “Deja vu, right?”
You whined as she dug her nails in deeper. There was the sound of a step but not another. Not as Devona raised a finger and wagged it at Eddie. 
"Nuh-uh." She flicked her wrist, and the ground was under you. Not sweetly. Not gently. The air was knocked from your lungs as you did an involuntary roll over the underbrush, roots snagging where they could touch you. Pain blinded you as you tried to come back to consciousness. "She's ours to play with now. Sorry."
A foot on your chest kept you pinned underneath her. The mud caked your back and stung against parts you hadn’t even realized gotten hurt. But the position gave you a look at Eddie. As you put your hands on her ankle to fight the weight she was putting on your sternum, Eddie was a few feet behind you. If you died here, his expression would be what haunted you the most. 
Guilt and regret spread out like molten metal searing your insides. The panic, the fear, the betrayal. You could practically hear the words throwing themselves around in his head. You fucked up again. The concern drove deep. The care.
“Devona, don’t–”
"She killed Ruby," she snapped. "She left Kieran starving for blood he couldn't have. She's killed dozens of our kind." More weight, and you thought you felt something start to fracture. "Do you have no fucking allegiance to your kind? To the ones who turned you?"
Eddie’s expression twisted into confusion. Anger. His eyes finally flicked up from yours.
“Allegiance?” His chest heaved. “To fucking Kieran?”
You squeezed Devona’s leg harder. This was wrong. When this happened, Eddie wasn’t supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to have gotten injured. You were supposed to have a damn grip on your magic. Why was it blocking up now?
Devona scoffed, and her eyes glinted with anger. The thought hit you unforgivingly. She had to keep you alive. You were worth Kieran's hunger and sanity. He needed you alive. He didn’t need Eddie alive.
And you couldn’t say a damn thing.
Not from the pressure on your chest, not from the soreness of your throat. But the second you showed any care for Eddie, Devona would strike. He was already leading himself down that path. She, at the very least, knew you two were connected. But how much.
Eddie had killed the wolf back in the forest. He’d staked the vampire near the river.
You’d never seen him go up against another vampire.
Your palms burned as Devona kept her attention on Eddie.
“He gave you eternal life,” she snapped. “Ruby–”
“Was a good lay that wasn’t worth even a fraction of what I got from it.” His hands twitched by his side. “You should know how much I’ve fucking lost because of him because he took it.”
“Hm?” Devona tipped her head to the side, an innocent expression coming mockingly onto her face. She batted her lashes and scratched her chin. “The mortals? They were all going to die anyway. And what better way to lose one than to have them in your arms for it.” Her lips curled into an awkward smile. “Well, except the girl. She screamed a lot. Kieran hates screamers.”
Something deep and primal clicked inside Eddie. Don’t, you wanted to scream. If he attacked, you had no idea if he could win. You had hope–but hope could only get you so far. He stole a quick glance at you, pure, unfiltered hatred pouring from his pores. He only held your pleading look for a second. 
You got a full, pained breath the instant Devona was knocked off of you.
And then they were gone.
No.
You sobbed as you rolled over. Moving was a feat you wouldn’t be able to hold onto for long. Adrenaline was the only thing that allowed you to even pretend you could move. Everything hurt. Tears blurred your vision. And you were fairly certain you were on the verge of simply keeling over and not waking up. 
But you couldn’t let Eddie die.
Not like this. Not for you.
You saw white again as you crawled. 
More noises echoed around you. Grunts, cries. Laughter. Words you couldn’t hear. Wood splintered, but you never got to see who was the cause. The noises continued, and you wrapped an arm around a tree as you fell. You barely managed to prop yourself up.
Please.
You dug your nails in hard. 
More noises.
Another plea left your lips as fear swallowed you. 
If it was another vampire, another creature–your death was sealed. You couldn’t survive anything else. You weren’t strong enough for this.
There was a splash to your left, and you turned. 
The river?
You shoved yourself forward, going from tree to tree, moving as fast as you could. The sounds of wildlife scattering made your hair stand up, but you continued. It wasn't far. And it was wide open enough to be able to see once you got to the edge of the forest. But you just had to get there.
You had to–
A root caught your foot, and your palms scraped against a tree.
“Fuck.” You pressed your forehead against the bark. 
If you had the luck to survive this endeavor, you were going to set your flames to low and toast Kieran alive for as long as you could draw it out. You’d torch whatever he threw at you. Whoever he tried to harm. Whatever he tried to do–fuck him. Fuck all of this. Fuck whoever decided to turn this on to you. To give you such a wonderful bloodline and ferocious magic.
You punched the tree, a miniature bolt of lightning taking away a chunk.
“Fuck you.”
You sobbed. 
“Fuck you all.”
The faintest, softest gust of wind hit your wet cheeks. They stung like you’d been crying for hours. And maybe you had. It was hard to tell where the hurt even came from anywhere. Everything just hurt. 
Everything–
A warm arm wrapped high around your waist.
No.
A gentle hand stopped your wrist as you swung it.
Please.
The bolt struck far to your left.
“It’s me,” Falcon said, eyes wide. His hand left your wrist and found your cheek. You could feel the blood it smeared. The tears and mud, too. “It’s me. I have you.” He looked to his right. “They’re by the river.”
“I can’t leave him,” you croaked.
Falcon gave you a bittersweet smile.
“If they kill him–”
“If you go and you can’t fight, it’ll only be worse for him.”
“I’m not going." You felt your palms burn. Embers fell to the forest floor. "I won't leave him, and I won't let him die because of me."
Falcon looked at you for a moment too long. He was wasting time. Time you certainly didn’t have. Time you could feel slipping through your fingers and falling into unconsciousness. Time you really, really needed to savor.
“Okay.”
He hauled you in what you forced yourself to calculate through the pain was the right direction. The werewolf’s corpse was left behind with your bag as Falcon moved with you. Every step was agony, but at least he was there to cushion. 
You could move faster that way. Not by much, but you enough.
You were trembling when the forest broke away, and the shore stretched out along the river. There was blood. From new wounds and ones that’d started to heal on them already. Water washed it away as Devona slammed Eddie beneath the surface. He’d drown, but he wouldn’t die. But if he lost consciousness for even a second, the grip he had on her hands would slip. She had more than enough strength to tear his head from his shoulders. 
They were too close to even pretend you could use fire on her. Whatever touched her would touch Eddie. You couldn’t risk it. You also couldn’t fight. Falcon stood no chance to try and separate them, either. Without that, the fight couldn’t be interrupted. You just had to stand back and watch as she killed him.
No.
Falcon squeezed you tighter. His solemn expression hurt as he battled what to do. What he could do.
No. No. No.
This was wrong.
This was what you were trying to avoid. 
No.
You tried to move, but Falcon held you back. He didn’t need much strength to do it. 
Something hard poked your side as you settled back against him, and you peered down at your belt. Your blade sat lopsided on the leather belt, the sheath caked in mud and leaves.
You blinked and heard Devona laugh. Eddie’s grip started to slip.
What else was there to lose?
You shoved yourself from Falcon with your remaining strength. You toppled, falling to the sand, and he made it two steps toward you before you got the knife free. You gave him a pointed look that stopped him in his tracks, and you screamed Devona’s name.
Your hands shook as you held the tip of the blade against your neck.
You’d lost more than enough blood that one slice would be the end.
Anywhere would’ve done it, but this got her attention. This hammered it home.
This did exactly as you needed it to. As you needed her to. 
It gave you the leverage to apply pressure to the knife. It let you see her let go of Eddie. It gave her the leverage to make her decision–the obvious one–and tear the knife from your grip without slicing you in the process. It brought the shore to your back as she pressed you into it and cursed your name. Screamed it. Told Eddie to get up and watch as she took you from him. 
Work.
You barely managed to reach up and grabbed fistfuls of her hair. 
"Fuck you," you spat, putting every last ounce of yourself into what lingered hot in your veins. Devona laughed, but you dug your nails into her. You felt the embers spark, and you clung to that. Clung to the feeling that gradually grew warmer until you knew it'd burn. "Ruby screamed a lot, too, you know." 
The skin on your palms blistered. Devona blinked as her hair caught fire.
“Will you?”
~*~*~*~*~
You weren’t dead. There was too much pain for you to be dead. 
Somewhere between hearing Devona's scream tear from her throat and feeling the blistering pain travel up your wrists, you'd blacked out. You'd thought it was death at first. That the last bit of magic you'd had left had wiped you out entirely. But then you were jostled. Then, there was pain again.
Oh, you sobbed. 
Shivered as something colder than ice hit all of you. Writhed for a moment before that made it worse, and then you clung to whoever held you. A hand wiped the dirt from your face. Then from the rest of you. Strong arms kept you floating in the water. Desperate, almost angry, scared voices spoke nonsense. You could hear what they were saying, but their meaning didn't stick.
You just heard your name a few times.
“No. No, no. Not again. I promised. I fucking promised her, Falcon.”
That. You heard that, too.
Then there was very little. Not nothing. There was shivering. There was more pain. Then, a lot of moving. Quick movement. Lots of wind. The cawing of a bird and then the chirping of more. Water. There was water. 
You felt really cold, still.
Chamomile.
You blinked hard, but you couldn't get your eyes to open. You smelled chamomile. Herbs. The mint of tonics. Franic voices overlapped it. Some yelling. Some snapping. A warm tingling feeling went through your veins, and a warm hand pressed something wet and boiling against your forehead. It smelled familiar.
“I won’t let you die,” a soft voice whispered. “I’m pretty sure Eddie won’t let the alternative happen anyway.” 
The gentle pads of fingers skated over your throat. 
“Okay, (Y/N)?” Luna. It was Luna. Luna wiped her thumb over a spot where you remembered Devona’s being. “You’ll be better soon. I promise.” 
She leaned down, and you barely managed to move your head. The cloth on your forehead was moved, and a tender kiss was placed beneath it. You leaned into it. 
You felt her smile.
“The pain will be gone soon. Not entirely, but most.” Her hand barely moved to your side, and you nearly bolted upright at the contact. “This will scar, but the rest won’t. Hey. Hey. Breathe. Rest. Rest–”
There was a moment of silence, and whatever you were on shifted. A cold hand found yours, fingers lacing through yours. 
“Is she awake?”
“Barely,” you croaked at the very same time Luna did.
Eddie’s grip tightened on your hand. Through sheer force of will, you managed to get your eyes open. The room was dim, but the lighting that was in there felt too bright. But you weren’t looking for it as you blinked away the blurry vision. You were looking for him.
Eddie seemed to nearly collapse with relief the second you looked at him. He had to brace himself with his other hand, shaking the table as he leaned closer. His eyes flicked across your face so fast, you thought you’d scarred your face up in the fights. But then they stopped on your mouth. 
He leaned closer. 
“Don’t you dare,” Luna said, putting a hand on Eddie’s chest. Eddie’s hair tickled your cheeks as he paused, a mean glare going toward Luna. She gave him one right back. “When she’s better, you two can make up however you want. But she’s still in pain.” 
Eddie only barely straightened, but he didn’t walk away. He didn’t let go of your hand. 
“Give me something to do then,” he muttered, irritation crawling through him. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, even as you felt like sleep was trying to call you toward it. “Idle hands and all that bullshit. I can’t sit here and do nothing.”
"Just stay," Luna murmured, and you watched the magic pour from her fingers over your waist. The burnt skin was ugly and scabbed. The sweetness in her voice nearly made you cry. "Her magic pulses stronger when you're near her."
Eddie squeezed your hand tighter.
“Okay.” He ran his thumb over yours. “Fine.”
There was more movement, and you caught a familiar set of faces just before you started to drift back off again. You would’ve been upset that so many had gathered to see you like this, but the relief and concern on their faces shoved it all away. Link had Jax’s hand in a vice grip as she wiped away some tears. Tamara had to hold Kysa back from trying to bring food that (Y/N) really needs to get her energy back into the tent. Pria nodded near the back, concern laced through her features. She hugged herself as tears dampened her eyes. You wanted to tell her she didn’t need to cry–you’d be fine. 
Falcon handed her a handkerchief before he came over.
He put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder that held him relax, but not fully.
“She’s a stubborn one, Eddie,” Falcon whispered. “She’ll be fine.”
“I know.” He lifted your hand just enough to meet his mouth as he bent down. He pressed a searing kiss to the back of your hand. “I’m just an impatient bastard.”
You felt his hand squeeze yours again before the pain in your side was alleviated.
It stayed as sleep took and drowned you. 
~*~*~*~*~
There were fields of white around you. Freezing cold billows of white. They swallowed you as you jumped into the high piles, your cousins laughing around you. You were just another one of them, enjoying the fun. The scenery. Dreading the long ride back home. They threw balls of snow at each other, at you, talking about how they wished you could stay longer. How they wished you were actually one of them so you could live in the castle.
The large halls. The massive windows. The scent of delicious baked goods falling down the corridors and shiny silver cups full of cocoa waiting for you when you dashed back inside. The rugs were nicer than anything you’d ever seen. The curtains. The paintings. The food. The town outside of the castle.
You felt your grandfather pat your shoulder as you rushed by him and went to sit in front of the fire. The snow had already long melted off of you, and the chill had long vanished. But everyone else sat in front of the fire, so you did, too. The heat licked your skin like the sun, and you basked in the growing heat.
Your grandfather whispered something to your parents behind you, but you closed your eyes and sat where you were. 
Warm.
It felt so, so warm.
You jolted awake, eyes up on the point of a ceiling above you. The scent of lavender was strong throughout the small space. Thick blankets fell atop you, warm and soft. A long, large white shirt was draped over your skin that stretched as you started to sit up.
Oh.
That was pain. Not horrendous, but it reminded you of the pain you’d felt. Every ounce of it. It jerked the room sideways and blurred your vision for a moment, and you reached out to hold onto something. You were met with pillows. Pillows and an arm. 
You looked up the second a hand went to your back. Wide brown eyes blinked back at you. Concerned eyes. Relieved eyes. 
Your hand fell from his arm as he reached up and cupped your cheek.
“You’re awake,” he said softly.
You felt your mouth curve into a smile. He didn’t stop you from reaching up and touching his face how he touched yours. But that wasn’t enough. Soreness had nothing on the elation throwing itself through you, and you bit back the wince as you moved. The blankets were tossed back as you threw your arms around his neck. A dull ache in your side was hardly registered as Eddie toppled back out of his chair, and you both were on the ground.
He was beneath you. Alive. In one piece. He was okay.
You planted your lips to his and he seemed to melt under your touch. He sighed and kissed you back harder. Held you tighter. Kept you latched to him as you refused to break the kiss. Refused to stop feeling him. You needed it; needed to feel him. Needed it like you needed to breathe. 
He was still alive.
Your cheeks were wet when you finally needed to actually breathe. He cupped the back of your head gently as your forehead found his cheek.
“I’m so sorry,” he huffed, voice taut and strained. “I wasn’t there. I–”
"I was the one who ran." You felt cold as you said it. If you hadn't run, would it have been better or worse? You didn't like either answer. "You didn't do anything wrong, Eddie. I ran. I'm sorry."
"Doesn't matter. I promised to protect you, and I fucked it up again." His voice got quiet. "I thought she was going to kill you. I couldn't…I…" His hand twitched on your head, and he turned, planting a kiss to your temple. "I thought I lost someone else. I thought I lost you."
You shook your head. 
A sniffle came and went. You hugged him closer. Your heart started to beat quickly inside your chest. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
A shuddering breath left you as you nuzzled him closer. He pressed another kiss to your temple. 
“I’m sorry.” Lord. The emotions felt raw. Too raw. They hurt. “I won’t leave you to starve again, I promise. Can’t go losing your source of food–”
“If you think that’s the only fucking reason I went out there, you’re fooling yourself worse than when Jax thought they were just friends with Link.” His voice was almost cold. Yet it sparked an uncontrollable heat through you. Your magic felt weak to grasp, but it was still there. Still tangible. “I won’t fucking lose you, (Y/N).”
His voice dropped to a whisper. A hand gradually skated up your back until he had it centered between your shoulder blades, and he squeezed. Carefully–but he squeezed. He held you like you might slip away at any moment. 
He spoke the words against your temple, preceded by a searing kiss.
“I haven’t felt like this since I was mortal.”
The heat grew unbearable, yet it only felt wonderful. You lifted your head to find his gaze, but when you lifted and blinked, there were drops of water on Eddie’s cheeks. A few. Your vision was blurry, too. And you were shaking. Sniffling. 
You pressed your mouth into a fine line as a sob tried to break through.
When the hell was the last time someone felt like that about you?
Had anyone?
And he…? He.
You took his face in both hands and came down. You’d apologize after for kissing him while you were sobbing, but you needed him to know how much that meant to you. How that coursed through your veins like the feeling of magic. How it made you float and burn and pine and need. It made you feel safe.
The words weren’t there yet to speak, but Eddie understood them in the kiss.
He understood every one of them.
The sound of the tent opening was the only reason you broke the kiss. You would’ve stayed like that with him for as long as you could. Touching in every way you could, memorizing the feel of his lips against yours, basking in his care and giving him your own. To just be with him and feel.
Falcon had a crooked grin as he glanced down at you two still on the ground. One of Eddie’s hands went back and tugged down on the back of the shirt you wore as a dress. It was the only thing you wore.
“Good to see you’re up and doing good,” Falcon said to you. “We thought Eddie was going to go insane soon if you didn’t.”
Sunlight framed him, and you nearly leaped at him to close the curtain. None of the rays reached Eddie, but it was only then that you saw the slight bags beneath his eyes and the exhaustion seeping into him. Still, he had a cheeky smile. He kept your shirt weighed down with one hand and ran the other over your calf. 
“I wasn’t that close,” Eddie said with amusement. 
Falcon rolled his eyes and reached into the messenger bag hanging from his shoulder. A change of clothes was folded and tied neatly with a red ribbon. He set them on the edge of what you realized was Eddie's bed. 
You looked back over Falcon’s shoulder, muttering a thank you as you did so. 
“How long was I asleep?” you muttered. 
“Just the evening, don’t worry.” He walked over and put a tonic on the table beside the bed. “And it’s only just morning. The sun has just risen. Luna did her best to heal you up without overdoing it on either of your parts. How’re you feeling?”
“Sore, but okay.” Your hand instinctively fell to your waist. Luna had said the claw marks would scar. You could feel the memory of the wound in every wave of soreness as your fingers passed over the area. You flicked your eyes back to his. “Thank you, Falcon.” 
He stopped as he walked behind you, eyes wide for a moment as he turned to peer down at you. Then he smiled again. Softer.
“I don’t think things would’ve worked out like this if you hadn’t been there. Thank you.” Your voice broke halfway through your words, and Falcon reached down and squeezed your shoulder. But it wasn’t enough. Eddie gave you a bit of momentum as you got to your feet. “Thank you.”
Falcon smiled against the side of your head as you threw your arms around him. He hugged you back without a moment of hesitation. His chest rumbled with a bit of laughter before it died down, and for a second, his embrace got even tighter. 
“I’m not fond of losing members of my family,” he murmured. “I will always do what I can to keep the two of you safe.” His hand cupped the back of your head for a second. “Eddie also profusely thanked me on your behalf already. So you needn’t stress about feeling some obligation to do so. I will always lend myself to help.”
He pulled back, and he gave you a sweet smile that nearly broke you to pieces.
“We all will, you know. You’re family.” He looked over your shoulder at Eddie. “You both are.”
He stepped back and adjusted how his bag sat over him. A roll of his shoulders came next, then a hand through his hair. He gave you a nervous smile that made you shift your weight around on your feet. Eddie put both hands on your waist either to steady you, or he thought your legs couldn't hold you.
Either way, you leaned back until you rested against his chest.
He held you a little tighter.
“What is it?” you asked Falcon.
“Well, speaking of family,” he said, clearing his throat in the process. “When you two have finished…recovering…” Your cheeks burned while Eddie grinned, a kiss going to your cheek as he did. “We’ve been discussing waves of settling the Kieran issue.”
Eddie held you closer as you tensed. All the jovial feelings had knocked out the truth for just a little while. You’d killed Devona. You were back at the circus. Kieran was still in Caldwater. You were still in trouble. 
“Falcon,” you started, panic in your voice. Were they…?
He held up a hand.
"We have more than a few ideas, and Pria's already settled on which she wishes to move forward on." He gave you a wide smile and a tilt of his head as you simply gawked. You tried to say his name again, but your mouth just opened, and nothing came out. "What?"
He started to turn toward the exit of Eddie’s tent, and he gave you a cool smile.
“Did you think we would let him harm one of us and not retaliate?” Falcon tucked another strand of hair behind his ear. “Pria flayed the man who simply attempted to take her tail, buried the poacher who aimed her bow at my head mid-flight, and broke the hands of them who threw silver at Eddie.”
You and Eddie both moved aside as he opened the flaps.
"You're not the only ones with secrets chasing you. You don't have to run from them anymore." He stepped out into the light, and some birds chirped in the sky above. "We're here to help. Let us."
The flaps closed silently. The birds continued to chirp as a gentle gust of wind shook the tarp of the tent. The heat of the sun swirled as you fell back against Eddie. His hands twitched on your hips before rising slightly. You flinched where they met the new scars through the shirt, but you didn’t pull away. 
You blinked at the door, wetness coming down both of your cheeks.
Eddie caught you as your knees buckled. 
“Hey,” he murmured against your temple. Both arms wrapped you in a tight hug, pinning you against his chest. “Hey, hey. Hey, sunshine.”
You closed your eyes, shaking as you tried to piece everything together. Everything since you fled your parents, fled the vampires, fled Kieran; everything since you ended up in Pria’s troupe; everything since Eddie joined. Since he weaseled his way into your chest so efficiently and quickly and without stopping.
You dropped your forehead against him and forced yourself to straighten. 
Nobody had died.
Nobody had died and everyone was safe.
For the moment.
You threw your arms around his shoulders and hugged him closer. He felt warm. It felt like a piece of you that’d been missing was slotting into place. Old (Y/N) would’ve hated that it was him. The thought only made you laugh. 
Imagine if you would’ve done this sooner.
You snorted.
But the joyous relief could only last as long as it took for Falcon’s words to really set in. Even with the sun up, even with the slow, fiery kisses Eddie trailed along your jaw, even with everyone safe–you still had to go up against Kieran. There was the possibility that his hunger for your blood meant he was weak. Weak enough that there was nothing to fear. But underestimating an enemy was always mistake number one. 
And someone as vindictive as Kieran wouldn’t go down so easily.
Your head fell back as you sighed, Eddie’s lips trailing along your jugular, both arms locked around you. A low burning quickly grew hotter in your stomach as you clung to him. 
Kieran was vindictive. And you’d just killed another one of his friends and had another on your side. One that’d distinctly turned against him.
You reeled up as the shirt started to rise over you under Eddie’s embrace, and you had to peel yourself away from wanting to fall back onto his bed. To take the few moments you had with him before he really needed to crawl out of the sunlight. But there was something more important at stake than your own desires. 
“Eddie,” you murmured, cupping his cheeks as he looked at you. 
Wide, hungry eyes softened the instant they found yours. He cocked a brow and tilted his head, studying your expression. 
“Hm?” 
You took a deep breath and asked him something that you should’ve asked him the second he’d told you. But you’d been riding a different fear then. Clinging to a different pleasure to distract. To drown in. 
You drew your thumb over his mouth, and he pressed a teasing kiss to it.
Heat flickered in his eyes and your exhale came out shaky. 
But you had to ask.
You swallowed hard and held his gaze.
“I need you to tell me everything you know about Kieran.”
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