#it's like. the entire point of chapter 12.
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Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 14
Fic Teaser: While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.
Relevant tags/content warnings: Crosshair/Original Female Character, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use
Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!
Read the full fic so far on AO3
Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10 l Ch. 11 l Ch. 12 l Ch. 13
Chapter 14 summary: The squad makes their way through the villa. Everything goes according to plan, until it doesn't.
Tech was pleased with how things were going. Inside the villa, all was quiet: their surveillance had revealed that security was posted exclusively at the mansion’s entryways, in addition to one patrol circulating the perimeter at regular intervals, and the interior was monitored only by cameras and automated systems. With those disabled, they were able to enter easily through a darkened window and proceed entirely unmolested through the shadowy hallways, footfalls sinking quietly into the plush carpets. By the time the Batch had rendezvoused with Dara in the villa’s control room, the stunned workers were already expertly bound and propped securely in an out-of-the-way corner.
In fact, Tech allowed himself the brief luxury of privately celebrating how well this first phase of the plan had gone, even as he mentally catalogued the skill with which Dara had fulfilled her role, adding it to his mounting list of clues that, he believed, would ultimately aid him in deciphering the mystery behind the woman’s origins.
He was well-aware that, despite his expertise in many areas, others often believed him to be unable to read social cues, always distracted by his datapad and perhaps even ignorant of his surroundings. However, because these skills had so frequently been a challenge for him growing up, he had actually dedicated an extraordinary amount of effort to improving them. Crosshair and Hunter were both especially observant in their own ways, aided by their enhanced senses, but Tech, for all he might lack, equaled them by being attentive, thorough, and analytical. Even when others thought he wasn’t altogether present, he paid attention. He collected evidence. He formed hypotheses. He tried to understand.
At present, Dara remained largely beyond his understanding. He was not bothered by this. She had been an asset to the team thus far. He would continue to collect evidence.
Of course, he had one hypothesis that, by this point, he considered more or less proven: Crosshair was entirely taken with her.
If Crosshair’s reaction to their teasing, his obvious jealousy towards Hunter, and the bruise he had left on Dara’s neck had not been enough evidence for Tech, he would have been convinced entirely by the way Crosshair looked at her when he didn’t realize anyone was paying attention. Similar to most soldiers, none of the Batch were strangers to desire, and Crosshair, like all of them, had taken plenty of advantage of rest days between missions and their infrequent bouts of shore leave to find a happily willing partner for the night. Tech had therefore seen Crosshair look at pretty individuals of innumerable genders and species with lust, hunger, even charm—and sure, he had directed at least the former two toward Dara often enough. But more than that, Tech had noticed that, when watching their new traveling companion, his brother’s gaze frequently held a rapt fascination. So often solitary, Crosshair had even taken to hovering in their common areas more, keeping to the edges of conversation and pretending to focus on some task or other, but—especially when Dara appeared to be ignoring him—often eyeing her, as though he could find her secrets written somewhere on her face.
Tech knew that his brother was a difficult man. Whatever was brewing between Crosshair and Dara, Tech was certain that the sniper would be the last to acknowledge it.
In any event, Tech mused, perhaps he should speak with Hunter and suggest that he back off on the flirting, for the sake of Crosshair’s inevitably repressed feelings, and preventing a fistfight. Even now, as Tech was tapping away at the control room’s array to better evaluate the security measures protecting Prium’s private laboratory, Hunter and Dara were engaging in a playful banter that Crosshair was certainly listening to over the open comm channel and, Tech imagined, likely seething over.
“Ah,” Tech interrupted them. “It appears that security for the laboratory—and, we may presume, the archive vault—is maintained via a separate network than this control room.”
Echo sighed. “Are you saying that there’s another control room—somewhere not on the floorplan—that we need to find?”
Tech tapped his finger thoughtfully against the edge of his datapad. “Yes, I do believe that would be the wisest course of action. There may be more workers monitoring the laboratory from there. Additionally, in the event that a security measure is triggered, I would need access to the network to shut it down.”
“Make it quick,” Crosshair urged over comms. “Before the other guard comes looking for Dara.”
Hunter glanced around the room, assessing their options. “Tech, stay here. Look through the camera feeds and floor plans to see if you can identify where the secondary control room might be. In the meantime, the rest of us will conduct a physical search. I’ll take top floor, Wrecker, take this floor, Dara and Echo, check the basement,” he ordered.
The team set off to their tasks, leaving Tech alone. As he looked closely through the building schematics, trying to identify any areas that seemed architecturally inconsistent, where a space large enough for a concealed room might be located, he wondered exactly why Prium had such a deep distrust of droids. Echo would have been able to make much shorter work than himself of scanning through the camera feeds for clues, but the array here didn’t even have a scomp port. As such, he doubted that Echo would be able to help them access the lab or counter any further security measures. Hopefully the keycard that Dara had stolen would be enough to gain them access.
Fully capable of multitasking, Tech switched to a private comm channel with Crosshair to check in while he continued his work.
“What?” his brother drawled in answer.
Like usual, Tech chose to ignore Crosshair’s rudeness. “How are things outside?”
“Boring.”
“I am serious,” Tech chastised. “I am beginning to think that this may require more time than we have allotted ourselves.”
Crosshair sighed over the line. Tech could imagine him rolling his eyes.
“Guard is a bit antsy. He keeps testing to see if comms are operational again. Perimeter patrol just checked in with him. They seem relaxed.”
“And you?” Tech pressed.
“Just peachy.”
It was no surprise that Crosshair was being as taciturn as always. No matter—Tech had no trouble getting to the point.
“Are you concerned about Dara?” he asked.
Silence on the line. Then, “I don’t see how she could get away with betraying us here. Or what the point would be.”
“Ah,” Tech replied. “That is not what I meant. Are you concerned for her safety on this mission?”
More silence, silence that went on so long that Tech briefly thought that Crosshair may have gotten annoyed and disconnected. Finally, Crosshair asked, every word dripping with disdain, “Why would I care about that?”
The corners of Tech’s mouth twitched. “Well, I had presumed that perhaps your opinion of her had changed as a result of whatever events led to your giving her that hickey.”
Another pause. “That didn’t mean anything. Besides, she’s with Echo—there’s nothing to be concerned about.”
“Mmm,” Tech mused. “Yes, Echo will ensure that nothing happens to her. And I presume that you are tracking their progress through your infrared scope.”
Crosshair muttered something unintelligible that Tech, with a sense of smug satisfaction, could rightfully assume was a rude comment about him, before raising his voice again. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something important right now?”
“I am, and I have successfully achieved it while simultaneously carrying on this conversation.” Tech switched to the open comm channel to inform the rest of the team. “I have pinpointed the location of the secondary control room. It is in the basement, two corridors away from the entrance to the laboratory.”
“Great work, Tech,” Hunter acknowledged. “We’ll meet up there.”
***
Echo and Dara’s search had begun at the lab, where they were able to confirm their assumption that the absence of a scomp port meant the cyborg would be unable to unlock the door himself. The basement was significantly more utilitarian than the rest of the villa. Gone were the lavish trappings of wealth; white tiles and gray durasteel replaced velvety red carpets and elaborate wall hangings, while functional, stark lighting panels stood in for warm wall sconces and crystal chandeliers.
As they combed the rooms and corridors, Echo examined Dara closely. It was the first time he’d seen her with her weapon drawn. She had a DH-16 blaster pistol—her small hold-out blaster, a CS14, remained safely hidden under her poncho—and was holding it correctly, with a secure, two-handed grip and good trigger discipline. That was a good sign that her skill in taking down the troopers the first day she had encountered the Batch was more than a fluke, which was something of a relief for Echo. While they rarely planned on getting caught in a shoot-out, every job the Batch took on for Cid did seem to have odds that leaned that way. He knew he’d be able to protect Dara if it came down to it, but he preferred her being able to defend herself.
Dara opened a door, letting Echo take point to clear the room. It was an industrial kitchen with gleaming appliances, completely empty. He motioned to her to enter so that they could check out another door leading off of the main area—likely a pantry and not the control room they were looking for, but Echo was always thorough.
“So,” he began, nodding toward Dara’s outstretched weapon as they carried on with their task. “You have some training on how to use that?”
The woman was aghast. “Of course. How irresponsible would it be to carry a blaster and not know anything about it?”
The cyborg chuckled. “You’d be surprised what you see with civilians. Where’d you learn?”
Dara relaxed, giving him a wry smile. “My fieldwork took me to some pretty hostile planets. The people I worked with were always agreeable. The fauna, less so. I took a training course.”
Echo nodded, satisfied with the explanation. He didn’t have Hunter’s ability to hear someone’s pulse jump when they were lying, but her story had a ring of truth to it. He was relieved; he had put himself on the line advocating for Dara to stick around, and so far it was paying off. Once they’d gained her trust enough, he was sure that she would come clean about the parts of her backstory that she was keeping quiet. And maybe then she would even be willing to help out with a few missions for Rex’s clone network. The clones couldn’t help having the most recognizable face in the galaxy, and they were all terrible liars as a general rule. They could use someone who could go where they couldn’t, blend in where they stuck out.
“Glad to hear it,” he replied. “Makes me feel better to know you won’t accidentally blast me.”
She laughed. “No. If I shoot you, it’ll be on purpose.”
“Well, that’s a comfort.” They exchanged grins as they exited the kitchen and moved on to the corridor. Echo decided to test out a more difficult subject. “Luckily for me, I don’t think I’m at the top of your list of people to shoot right now,” he continued.
Dara rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I don’t know if you’ve realized this, but your brother’s a bit of an asshole.”
The cyborg raised an eyebrow. “Which one of those assholes do you mean?” When Dara smirked at the joke, he gave a knowing shrug. “Listen, I can’t exactly say Crosshair means well. He can be pretty harsh, and he doesn’t let many people in. But for those he does, you won’t find a more protective or loyal clone anywhere. And that’s saying a lot—loyalty is what clones are all about.”
The woman looked like she was considering his words. She sighed and opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the comm from Tech, announcing that he’d found what they were looking for. They were only a corridor away, and so Echo led them down the hall to wait silently for the others outside the secondary control room.
Only minutes later, they were joined by Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech. Hunter signaled to the squad, who lined up on either side of the door as he took point. When it opened, a solitary, bored-looking worker with his back to them was staring, chin in his hand, at a datapad, ignoring the camera monitors on the wall in front of him completely. The Sergeant stunned him.
“Come on. That was too easy,” Wrecker lamented as he gently lifted the worker from his chair and tied him up in a corner.
“You just had to say that, didn’t you, Wrecker,” Hunter complained while Tech took the man’s place at the controls and set to work.
“This will take a few moments,” Tech informed them. “The rest of you should go and prepare to enter the laboratory. I will join you shortly.”
While Echo remained in the control room to watch Tech’s back, the others approached the door to the lab in the next corridor. Dara fished Raab’s keycard out of her pocket and waited. A few minutes later, the comm crackled to life with Tech’s voice.
“Security for the laboratory has been disabled. You may proceed.”
Dara swiped the card. The sensor blinked once, twice. For a long, tense moment, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, a blast door closed, hiding the entrance to the laboratory behind a thick wall of durasteel.
“Tech, what is happening,” Hunter growled over the comms.
The genius’s voice wasn’t exactly panicked, but it had lost its calm assuredness. “It appears that Raab does not have the type of access that he led Dara to believe. An alert has been triggered.”
Tech was no longer pleased with how things were going.
Tag List: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon
#the bad batch#star wars#bad batch#clone force 99#clone wars fanfiction#tbb crosshair#tbb hunter#tbb fanfiction#sw tbb fanfiction#the bad batch fanfiction#tbb fanfic
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Shipping is fun and all but why do the whole fandom makes it like VNC was about rotting for Vanitas to be with either Jeanne or Noe and sexuality ? It's not what the story is about, it's about Noe and Vanitas's story together and how Noé will end up killing Vanitas. Is it because it's also treating of their relationship that the fandom focuses so much on romance which is a very sub themed (after all in shounen romance is always a subplot, more or less underdevelopped)
I mean, when it comes to Vnc, I'm not so sure that the romance is underdeveloped, anon. I 100% get not caring about romantic shipping, and that's fair, but sex and romance are big parts of this story. I don't think it's unreasonable to be invested in them when they're very present in the manga itself.
You're right that shonen series in general tend to be very light on romance. However, a majority of shonen also don't have their characters very regularly engaging in a metaphor for sex.
It's pretty undeniable that the blood drinking in VnC is meant as a sexual metaphor. Sometimes this is played for horror (like Astolpho's backstory), and sometimes this is played for horny (like the VaniJeanne scenes), but it's almost always there. It doesn't mean that every instance of blood drinking is meant to symbolize literal sex, but both in-universe and in terms of symbolism, drinking someone's blood in VnC is an erotic act. And there's a lot of blood drinking.
With that said, given that these characters are constantly running around drinking and/or craving each other's blood, of course people are going to talk about romance a lot. "Which character wants which other character's blood?" is a huge driving factor for the character dynamics in this story. And there's a lot of straight-up discussion of romance as well!
You cannot talk about or analyze Noé and Dominique's relationship without talking about her massive crush on him. You cannot analyze Vanitas and Jeanne's relationship without talking about their mutual attraction and all the blood drinking scenes. You cannot fully analyze Noé and Vanitas's relationship without talking about how much Noé wants Vanitas's blood.
It may not be the norm for shonen, but Vnc is, objectively speaking, a series that puts a fair amount of emphasis on romance. It's not the main plot, but neither is it a clumsily handled background element like in Naruto or something. This is a series driven by the relationships between its characters first and foremost, and several of those relationships are canonically romantic and/or horny.
(Also, as a bonus fun fact, there's an interview with Mochizuki where she directly talks about how she wanted Vnc to focus more on both action and romance than her previous works).
And as for the Vanoé angle specifically, you're right. Vnc is the story of Noé and Vanitas's relationship. It's the story of how they meet, what they do together, and how/why Noé will eventually kill Vanitas with his own hands. And the thing about that relationship is that it is frankly fucking FULL of queer subtext. Like half the writing on this blog, for example, is about Noé and Vanitas's relationship, and not all of it is gay. Sometimes I talk about the death and tragedy angle, sometimes I speculate about the concrete plot details of what's to come, and sometimes I talk about how absurdly queer-coded Noé's whole "your blood smells amazing" routine is. It's not the only thing going on between them, not by a long shot, but it's there! And I think it's quite reasonable to discuss it.
So like, everyone engages in fandom differently, anon. It's fine to not give a damn about the romantic angle. I personally am almost incapable of caring about ships that aren't heavily implied in their canon sources, which makes me a bit of the odd one out in some fandom spaces.
However, speaking for myself again, this is a meta blog. More often than not, when I talk about romance on here, it's through the angle of examining what's there in canon. I find the relationships between the characters to be the most compelling part of Vnc, so that's what I write about. Sometimes that means writing about how Noé's constantly trying and failing to save his loved ones generally, sometimes that means writing about the history between Vanitas and Misha, and sometimes that means writing about how fucking in love with Vanitas I think Noé is.
I can't speak for others, but I personally don't think I'm reading anything into this series that isn't there. It's fine if it's not an angle you care about personally! I fully support you in blacklisting ship tags if the discussion of romance gets on your nerves. I cannot fucking stand "ship wars," so like. I get it. But "shonen usually doesn't care about romance" does not mean "all the people talking about romance in Vnc are doing it for no good reason."
#it's genuinely a major part of the series friend#it's like. the entire point of chapter 12.#put the story on pause for a minute to establish all of these bonkers romantic dynamics. and then the plot can continue#I get being tired of shipping. but I don't think I've made any claims about romance in vnc that aren't supported by the text#no hate toward you anon. but we've been reading things very differently if you don't think the romance in vnc is important#ask#anon#meta#the vanoé agenda#vnc#vanitas no carte
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I'm wondering how well (or not, lol) tbhtbh valtor would handle bloom not only being in love and in a relationship with someone else, but if it was with someone who wasn't so... lackluster and insecurity-inducing as sky. if it was someone like stella or another character who had her total devotion and who couldn't be a weakness to exploit in the way that sky was for bloom.
His ego would never recover, he'd go full pining Jane Austen character with a side dish of world destroying rage.
#or vice versa#asks#fic: to be hunted to be haunted#srsly though he ALREADY IS incredibly jealous of Stella. they interact for a total of like 12 seconds in chapter 3#and he is vibrating with envy the entire time#at once point bloom looks back at Stella and Valtor's face just turns ten shades more murderous on the spot#funnily enough he handles Bloom's interest in people he thinks inferior a lot better#half the reason he has it out for Stella (or any of the winx in her place) specifically is because he has a begrudging respect for her#and acknowledges that she is a formidable fairy#he really can’t look down on her that much and it drives him CRAZY
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Vivian finally being out as trans in the new Paper Mario remake hit me like a truck and it took me a while to fully understand why (light spoilers for chapter 2)
it's like.. I don't know how to describe it. I play a lot of indie games and I've gotten used to many of them having the full array of LGBTQ+ representation, and at this point I look at it and smile and then move on
with a huge corporation who has everything to lose like Nintendo, it feels like an entirely different world. here, I step back into this game I've owned on disc since I was a kid, and everything's the same if not slightly better... and then I start noticing the changes, one by one. picking up all the little clues, when suddenly I get to this line
I had already been spoiled on her full confession by Twitter, but... when I saw even this much with my own two eyes, it felt like something that had been hiding in my mind for 12 years just leapt out. the subtext is now text. the characters of this world that I've thought about all this time, that I would doodle in my notebooks, that I used to read so much fanfiction about... are canonically going through the same real struggles as me and so many others I know
and I just felt... seen. like, as if I'm finally allowed to be a real person, like I'm not crazy for telling people to use gender neutral terms around me, like I'm truly nonbinary and not just in writing
I never really talk about my gender identity in public because I've never had that validation telling me that it's not just in my head. my friends will reassure me, my mom won't hate me for it... but at the end of it all, Nintendo raised me since I was three years old, and that was a pillar of my life whose approval I never expected to have
so when I saw this, I just... sat there, staring, for a full minute. processing these emotions I never even realized I had. it's just one little sentence in a 30 hour long video game, it shouldn't mean that much, but... it did to me. the writers actually cared. they stuck their faces out the window that is the trans experience and they came back and rewrote the script to match. they left the Fire Emblem toad the same, not even changing "GBA" to "Switch" or "3DS", but they knew to change this
thank you, Vivian. I understand how you feel now
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whichever way [woosan x reader] pt 2
pairing: woosan x f reader
rating: 18+
genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits
ch. summary: You follow through with Wooyoung’s suggestion, but it looks like things aren’t ending there.
wc: 7.4k
ch. warnings: hard dom San, bratty sub Wooyoung, voyeur reader, consensual voyeurism/exhibitionism, kink negotiation, m x m, anal sex, rough sex, spanking, masturbation, dirty talk, blowjob, handjob, dumbification & degradation (@ Wooyoung), a hint of dacryphilia, praise kink (@ reader), safeword colour check (it’s green), aftercare
a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns
(also the first 2k of this chapter is basically kink negotation i got carried away i’m so sorry lol)
masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14
“Hey. Sorry, it’s just me today,” San says, opening the door to let you inside. “Wooyoung got called into an extra shift at work.”
It’s just a mere few days after the memorable incident that capsized your entire relationship with your friendly neighbour Choi San, and here you are again, walking into his apartment.
He is still your friendly neighbour Choi San, of course, but now he is also the Choi San that you accidentally walked into while he was fucking his boyfriend — and he will soon become the Choi San who fucks his boyfriend in front of you with full consent from all parties involved.
And right now? Right now he is the Choi San who invited you over for a friendly chat about establishing ground rules.
This is totally fine. You are totally fine.
Somehow, some absurd chain of events has led you to this point, and you can’t quite work out how it happened. You are inclined to blame Byeol for it all, though you’re not sure yet how. It’s her fault for needing to eat, or something like that. If she could just go a week without food, you never would’ve been in San’s apartment that day.
Yeah. This is all on Byeol. Rock-solid logic right there.
“No Wooyoung? Oh, no sure, that’s fine,” you tell San, like it does not take a godlike amount of strength to meet his eyes directly. Like your brain doesn’t conjure up the memory of him sucking and biting at Wooyoung’s neck every time you see him. “Or should we do this some other time, when he can be here, too?”
While you are struggling to keep a tight hold on your one last thread of self-composure, San seems remarkably well-adjusted, especially considering how flustered he had been that day. Now that the initial shock has passed, his mannerisms are relaxed and easy — but you?
Your unexpected surge of Wooyoung-induced boldness had run out of juice approximately two seconds after leaving San’s apartment, and you’d only grown more antsy since then. Your days were spent second-guessing the whole thing and fighting back the urge to look up new apartment listings.
(You can’t decide if San’s ability to stay calm and composed is ridiculously unfair, or if it is for the best. At least one of you has their shit together.)
San looks casual and homey today, dark hair still wet from a shower. He’s wearing comfy socks with grey sweats and a simple black shirt that should, in theory, be oversized; but the fabric clings onto San’s broad chest in a way that is very distracting, his collarbones exposed by the wide neckline.
(That shirt is definitely unfair. Does San have no compassion for your poor nerves??)
“Wooyoung gave me the okay to go ahead without him,” San says, gesturing an invitation for you to step into the living room. “I know what he wants out of this, what his limits are. Is that alright with you?”
You hesitate for a moment — but honestly? If you already struggle this much to keep yourself from bolting out the door with just San in the room, you can’t trust how well you’ll cope with Wooyoung here too. It might take a few extra days to gather the mental strength required so you can face the memories that he conjures in your head. Like when his— (NOPE. Stop! Stop that right now, brain!! Cease and desist!)
“Yeah, if Wooyoung’s okay with it, then I’m okay with,” you say, smiling back at San. Nailed it; you are being so normal about this. “Let’s talk.”
And so you do.
San sits you down on the couch where he joins you, a literal arm’s length away to give you some personal space. He also hands you a mug with a hot drink — your favourite, and you feel a flattered burst of happiness that he remembered from some random smalltalk ages ago.
You weren’t sure what to expect out of this conversation — or actually, you had not expected a conversation at all.
It seemed simpler to just…dive in, as it were. They fuck, you watch; high fives all around afterwards. Probably the most awkward fives that were ever highed but still; pretty straightforward, right?
But San insisted on laying out some ground rules beforehand, and as the conversation unfolds, you understand why.
It’s not that San overwhelms you with a multi-page kink inventory (“Maybe for some other time,” he jokes), nor does he take all the spontaneity out of it with a five-step business plan, laying out what will happen to the smallest details. He just…answers some of your questions, asks some questions of you, forcing you to actually solidify your thoughts about what your boundaries are — even as ‘just’ a spectator.
No, you don’t mind if they get a bit rough. What does ‘a bit rough’ look like to you? Oh, that’s a good question, actually. No, no you’re down for that. Umm, oh that’s quite… Yeah, of course they can talk to you during the scene; you’d feel weirder if they ignore you completely.
You’re no longer surprised that San is so calm today; he is obviously in his element, experienced in this type of kink negotiation. He does let out the occasional self-conscious chuckle — but that only makes him more endearing, his warm nature blanketing the strange formality of hashing out these limits.
Somehow, he strikes a sweet spot between keeping the dialogue casual enough that you don’t feel pressured, but thoughtful enough that you know he is taking you, and this whole thing altogether, seriously.
It helps to put you at ease; San knows what he’s doing, makes you feel like you are in safe hands. He explains how exactly he and Wooyoung use the traffic light system for safe-words, and he is quick to take anything off the table that you waver on, never pressing your boundaries.
Gradually, you find an inner calm in the reminder that you want this to happen, while San’s lack of judgement is a soothing assurance that it’s okay to want this to happen. Every person involved has given their enthusiastic consent — you may have stumbled into San and Wooyoung the first time, but this is different.
This time, you are making the conscious decision to step through the door, knowing what will be on the other side; and you can turn around any time you want to. You just don’t want to.
“Hey, thank you by the way,” San says at one point, “for being so open about this. Makes it a lot easier for me.”
“It does?”
He nods, his eyes curving. “Less stressful when I know what everyone’s expectations are. I don’t mind improvising, but it’s comfortable to have a baseline to work off, you know.”
Huh. You hadn’t thought about it from San’s perspective, but yeah, that makes sense. You tell him this, and thank him for making it easy on you, too. San’s eyes shine as he lets out a small, breathy laugh, like he is the one endeared by you right now.
“What about touching? Did we cover that yet? Maybe it goes without saying, but just to say it anyway,” he continues smoothly. “Off the table, right? Keeps things simpler. We don’t touch you, you don’t touch us. …We’re alright with you touching yourself, though, if you want to.”
San adds the last part so casually that it takes a beat for the suggestion to sink in — but then your breath catches at the thought, your bottom lip sucked between your teeth. For weeks you had held back from touching yourself to their muffled noises, and now they themselves are giving you permission to do so right in front of them? Oof.
“Oh? You hadn’t thought that far ahead, hm?” San says when he notes your dazed reaction, and the curve of his smile goes just slightly cocky. “Give it some thought, I’ll trust you to make up your mind on your own.”
“I think I already have,” you blurt out, resisting the unbidden urge to rub your thighs together.
San leans back, his grin showing a flash of teeth. “Good, I like that,” he says, and the simple confidence of his words does something to you. Something that makes you feel more than a little bummed that you’ll only be there as a spectator — but hey, at least that means you don’t have to bring up your IUD and clean bill of sexual health. “One last thing,” San goes on, “then I think we can wrap this up.”
You give him a curious look, encouraging him to continue.
“Wooyoung can get…mouthy,” San says, cautiously.
…
“No way,” you deadpan. “You’re joking.”
San gives you an exasperated look, one that you’ve caught him giving Wooyoung from time to time, but moves past your comment. “He likes to rile me up, likes it when I’m rough with him.”
This isn’t exactly news to you; where is San going with this? “So, uh, kind of like what was going on when I walked into you guys?”
It’s the first time that you’ve acknowledged what happened, and you can’t tell if saying the words out loud makes you die a little on the inside, or if it sets the most cringe-ridden part of you free. There is something strangely liberating about just speaking frankly; perhaps that is the secret behind Wooyoung’s bold audacity. Shame loses some of its power when you own up to things.
San does fluster a bit; apparently his miraculous recovery from the embarrassment of that day is not as complete as it seems, his endless composure not so endless after all. “Y-yea, no— It’s not…not always that mild,” he says, “the way I talk to him, that is.”
Mild?
You have vivid memories of how San had mocked Wooyoung for cumming untouched, the look on his face, the taunt in his voice. A stark contrast with the soft-hearted man sitting next to you now. So that was mild for them?
…Huh. Interesting.
San manages to recompose himself, while you mull over this new piece of information.
You feel curiosity, but also an instant discomfort that you can’t quite explain. The discomfort causes an immediate reflex to push it all down and ignore it, to pretend that you are fine with anything that San and Wooyoung want to do.
But San sees the hesitation in your face, and you know that you cannot hide your gut feelings from him. He will not let you. You try to relax, and remember that San has literally just thanked you for being open with him; this needs to be an honest conversation. Not only for your comfort, but for San’s.
“It’s not a judgement thing,” you immediately rush to reassure him. The last thing you want to do is imply that you’re kink-shaming him or Wooyoung. People like what they like, it’s got nothing to do with you. (Except this time it does have something to do with you, since you will be right there.) “I’m fine with anything like what I already heard, but hard name-calling or something like that… I’m not sure. It’s just—”
It’s just that San and Wooyoung have built a foundation, able to lean on their experiences and mutual trust when the harsher words come into play. They know that every degrading insult has the purpose to make the other feel good, even if it may seem counter-intuitive on a surface level. You are an outsider looking in — and you struggle to predict how you’ll respond to anything less ‘mild’; whether it will be just as exciting to you as it is to them, or only upsetting.
(Rationally you also know perfectly well that San would never say anything that Wooyoung isn’t on board with; but the connection between rationality and arousal is shaky at best.)
“No need to explain yourself,” San says, waving your concern away with his hand, “it’s all good. I’ll make sure it doesn’t go too far. There’s more than one way to deal with Wooyoung.” He adds a wink at the end, a cocky undertone in his words, but there’s still a hint of shyness burning at his ears. The dichotomy of it all is ridiculously endearing.
San walks you out the door, where he stops you for just a moment. “Sorry again for forgetting to text you,” he says. His smile is apologetic, but the sharp edge of embarrassment seems to have worn off of him too, the words calm. “I’m happy we’re doing this, Woo and I had been trying to think of a way to bring it up with you, I just— It would’ve been nice if we’d figured something out before…you know.”
You pat his arm, reassuring him that it’s all good between you. The catalyst to this turn of events had shaken you, but now? Now you feel steady in walking forward. Still a bit nervous, but (mostly) good nerves. Steady.
(Maybe you ought to buy Byeol some extra treats.)
“What would that conversation have even looked like?” you ask with a small chuckle. “‘Hey, want to watch us fuck?’ I mean, yeah, but that’s still pretty wild to ask your neighbour out of the blue.”
“And there we were, so worried about scaring you off,” San says, laughing.
“Well,” you say, puffing up your chest, “as you can see, I don’t scare easy.”
It’s just a line to poke fun at yourself and the whole situation, but San gives you another of his easy, confident grins, adorned by dimples. “No, you don’t. I like that too.”
You had worried that your discussion with San would take the excitement out of things, but those worries are unfounded. With the worst of your stress out of the way, anticipation has a chance to build up — and in a way, it’s kind of refreshing to have some idea of what to expect out of this, even if you won’t participate directly. No fumbling around blind to figure out what works for everyone, where the limits are. Just clarity.
Besides, it’s not like you have a play-by-play of what will happen. The only thing you know for sure is that you’re in for a memorable night.
Wooyoung confirms the latter as soon as he opens the door to greet you with a sly grin, biting his bottom lip.
“It’s good to see you again,” he says playfully, completely unbothered that he was buck naked the last time you saw him. Now he is wearing tight leather pants with a simple short-sleeved black shirt that shows off his arms — and again with the wide neckline! What is it with these damn men and their stupidly attractive collarbones!
Wooyoung notices how you check him out and preens immediately. He pushes his hair back with a suggestive wink, striking a little pose. “It’s a sexy look, right? Right?”
“Woo, don’t tease her,” San calls out from inside the apartment.
There is something about San’s voice that has you on alert, an edge of authority that you never heard from him before; but Wooyoung appears immune to it.
“I wasn’t teasing!” he calls back, rolling his eyes while he gestures you to come in. You note how his gaze lingers on the short skirt you’re wearing, but also that he does not touch you on the way to the bedroom; is he already taking the ground rules into account? You feel that slight pang of disappointment again; Wooyoung’s ass just looks so pinchable in those pants.
The lights are dimmed in the bedroom, and you step through the door with a mix of excitement and nerves — but they still are good nerves, only enhancing the excitement. San is already inside, waiting for you and Wooyoung.
This moment marks the first time you’ve ever seen Choi San shirtless.
You suck in a sharp breath, unable to help yourself.
You should not have been surprised; you’ve seen his arms on hot summer days where he hangs out in a sleeveless shirt, you know how wide those shoulders are just from seeing him in his regular clothes. And with the knowledge that San is one, a martial arts instructor and two, a certified gymrat to top it off; no, you should not have been surprised.
Not by the shadowed definition of his abs, not by the smooth expanse of his chest, tapered down to a slim hips where a faint treasure trail disappears into the waistband of his baggy, faded jeans. Add the tension in his jaw, his sharp narrowed eyes, the imposing posture; and San has undergone a total transformation, unrecognisable from the gentle guy next door.
You have always thought of the two men as gorgeous, but fuck. Whatever the you of a previous life has done to earn you this today, you send her a silent thanks.
San is unfazed by your moment of stunned admiration, simply showing you the comfy chair he’s readied for you. You sit down meekly; you may not be involved in the scene directly, but his dominant air still wraps around you. Usually you would describe San’s appearance as masculine handsomeness balanced with a perfect dose of cuteness, but now there is an edge of roughness to him, even by just standing there.
Wooyoung looks from you to San, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend.
“What are you doing, showing off like that?” he says; bold words for a man who just posed to show off his (admittedly fantastic) ass in those leather pants. “You really want to impress her, trying to look tough, huh? Just do what you always do, geesh, that’s already fucking hot enough.”
The compliment slips past almost unnoticed, but Wooyoung turns to you before San has a chance to react. “Did you know,” he goes on, with the grin of a born troublemaker, “Sannie seriously did push-ups before you got in here. I think he’s nervous, isn’t that cute?”
His grin widens when you crack into a smile, so caught off guard by Wooyoung’s reveal that you have to muffle a laugh. It is cute.
San’s face goes dark while he watches Wooyoung mouth off. Your sweet neighbour would be flustered by the callout, but San isn’t your sweet neighbour right now. He has slipped into a different mode, and won’t be knocked out of it by Wooyoung’s antics.
Instead he takes two long strides across the room and without warning, grabs Wooyoung’s chin, tilting it up. “I think it’s time you shut your mouth and use it for better things,” San says, his voice rough.
Wooyoung softly gasps a surprised ‘ahh’, his body instantly reacting to San’s forceful touch. San’s eyes flash at the way Wooyoung’s back arches, a sharpened half-smile on his lips.
(“He likes to rile me up,” San had told you — but clearly San likes to be riled up, too.)
San pulls Wooyoung forward, mouths clashing in an aggressive kiss. Immediately he palms the crotch of Wooyoung’s leather pants, kneading at the growing bulge. Wooyoung groans, his teeth digging into San’s bottom lip while his hands cling onto broad, bare shoulders to keep his knees from buckling.
You rub your thighs together at the sight, a familiar pressure building in your lower abdomen. Your breaths go shallow, eyes unsure of where to focus.
Down to the smooth roll of Wooyoung’s hips as he humps into San’s hand, up to the way their jaws shift as the kiss gets messier; giving you more and more sloppy peeks at their tongues sliding together with wet, eager moans. San’s grip on Wooyoung’s chin is still unrelenting, manoeuvring the shorter man in whichever way pleases him.
A slow hand travels down your thigh, knees parting by instinct as your fingers slide in between. You’d wisely foregone on underwear, and you can feel the easier slide through just one layer of fabric, a growing damp spot where you rub the skirt against your clit. Your inhibitions are lowering rapidly, a soft whine joining Wooyoung’s loud one when his hips begin to stutter — and San immediately pulls away.
“F-fuck,” Wooyoung hisses, chasing after San’s hand. “C’mon, just let me—”
“And let the show end so quickly?” San asks, finally releasing Wooyoung’s chin to give him a condescending pat on the cheek. “That’s real greedy of you, Woo.”
Wooyoung scoffs. “You know I can go for more than one round, you’re just being a— f-fuck, San—!”
With a sharp smack, the flat of San’s hand strikes against Wooyoung’s ass. Just from the sound, you think even San’s palm must hurt from the impact against leather. Wooyoung jolts forward, mouth fallen open as he pants for hard breaths. He lets out another moan when San tangles his hand in those fire red locks of hair, forcing Wooyoung’s head at an angle.
“You think you deserve to cum more than once, after mouthing off like you just did?” San says, his voice cool, an almost detached expression on his face. “You’re lucky I don’t call the whole thing off right here.” His free hand undoes the button of his jeans, the sound of his zipper loud in the quiet bedroom. He is not wearing anything underneath. “Here, prove that you’ve earned one at all, or do you want to disappoint our guest? On your knees. Now.”
For a moment Wooyoung looks ready to balk — but then his eyes dart to you and he visibly swallows down a retort, obediently getting down.
Obedient, for you.
Your fingers press down a little harder into your cunt, aching at Wooyoung’s compliance, all to please you. The barrier of fabric becomes increasingly frustrating, its damp spot growing outright soggy as you whine a soft moan.
Wooyoung’s eyes immediately snap back to you, glittering as he watches the swirl of your fingers, the tensing of your thighs, partially covered by the skirt that is slowly riding up. He licks his lips, eyes hungry.
San chuckles at Wooyoung’s meeker demeanour. “So eager to have her watch you suck my cock, hmm? Would’ve done this much sooner if I’d known how quick you’d be down on your knees.” He runs his hand through Wooyoung’s red hair, forcing him back to the task at hand.
Wooyoung stares up with a glower, wrapping his hand around the thick, half-hard cock. He parts his lips and leans in — for a small, rebellious bite on San’s hip.
San hisses, his grip on Wooyoung’s hair tightening. “Play nice,” he warns in a low growl. “I can still change my mind about all this.”
Silently, Wooyoung simply laps his tongue at the bite; to soothe the mark, but also to take pride in it. A last act of defiance before his mouth closes around San’s cock with a soft wet sound, and he hollows his cheeks as he sinks down.
You’re spellbound, watching how Wooyoung noisily sucks and bobs his head. Moaning decadently, heavy-lidded eyes transfixed on San’s face. San takes shallow breaths, staring right back at Wooyoung and the glossy shine of spit that spreads over his hardening cock with every pass of Wooyoung’s mouth. You swallow thickly when Wooyoung’s cheek bulges, his fingernails lightly scratching the exposed skin of San’s thigh. It must be sensitive; San bites his lip, his hand balling into a fist in Wooyoung’s hair.
“Little faster, Woo. Work for it,” he says, his voice slightly hoarse. “You think I’ll take it easy on you just because we have company?”
Wooyoung lets out a whiny noise but eagerly follows the lead of San’s hand guiding him, now working his cock in earnest as his speed picks up. Drools escapes the corner of his mouth, more dribbling down with every muffled wet moan.
Desperate for friction, Wooyoung’s hips roll forward uselessly — but San stands still as a rock in contrast, content to make Wooyoung’s swollen lips slide up and down his thick length. He’d look utterly unaffected if not for the rise and fall of his chest with hard breaths, his jaw clenched as he watches Wooyoung go deeper with every pass.
Your last shreds of inhibition crumbles away, the sharp pulse in your cunt harder and harder to ignore. You are burning, and your boldness grows in direct proportion to your desperation for relief. A hand slips underneath your skirt, and you sigh at the direct contact, greeted by a slick mess.
San’s eyes flicker to you at the sound, his eyes piercing into the point where your wrist disappears underneath your clothes. You aren’t sure how much he can see, your skirt hiked up but still providing some cover — but you are sure he can hear the faint squelch of arousal as you fall into a rhythm, fingers sliding across your clit in familiar, toe-curling patterns.
You can’t even feel shy anymore at San’s enthralled stare, so deep in the chase for pleasure that his attention only spurs you on. Soft gasps for breath, your lips parting to give free passage to a shameless moan.
“Fuck,” San curses softly, and pulls Wooyoung’s mouth off of him.
Wooyoung is dazed, his eyes a little glassy, and he is reluctant to part his lips from San’s cock. He looks up in hazy confusion, lifting a hand to wipe his smeared face clean.
“Leave that,” San snaps, lightly smacking Wooyoung’s hand away. “Clothes off. On the bed.”
Wooyoung is too far out of it to even consider disobeying, his movements rushed and clumsy as he strips down. San is more controlled as he shucks off his jeans, then grabs for a bottle of lube from his nightstand. He watches approvingly how Wooyoung get on all fours, squeezing the base of his cock to take the edge off before he joins his boyfriend on the bed.
“Here,” he says, grabbing onto Wooyoung’s hips to manhandle him into a position where you get almost a full profile view, then roughly turns Wooyoung’s head towards you. “Let her take a good look at that face, what a pretty mess you made of yourself.”
Wooyoung is a pretty mess; eyes unfocused and mouth hanging open, lips and chin glistening with saliva and precum, his red hair unruly but pushed back to expose his forehead and the small studs of his eyebrow piercing. He is breathing shakily, bent down on his forearms; his back arches prettily, pushing his ass up into the air, and he rocks back in anticipation of having San’s hands on him.
But Wooyoung’s eyes slowly come back into focus when they fall on you, mesmerised by the same view that captivated San only a moment before. He hisses when you bite back a moan, deliberately shifting your thighs to make the skirt ride up higher. “Talk about pretty messes,” he groans. “Fuck.”
You whine, the praise blooming hotly in your abdomen. It’s hard not to squirm under Wooyoung’s heated gaze; so you don’t bother to try and stop yourself, hips rocking forward to meet your fingers as one trails down to press inside you, just a shallow dip, teasing yourself — and Wooyoung.
He groans unabashedly and burrows his face in the sheets, like the sight is too much for him to handle, his back arching deeper.
“That’s it,” San says in a silk-smooth voice, running his hand across Wooyoung’s spine, before drawing back to squeeze at his ass. “You’re enjoying yourself like this, aren’t you? Putting yourself on display like—” San bites something back, shaking his head. (You realise that you wish he hadn’t held back.) “How is it, Woo? Is it just as good as you thought it’d be, hm?”
“Better,” Wooyoung rasps, a crack in his voice. “It’s better, f-fuck, San…”
San chuckles, coating two fingers with a generous amount of lube. “See? That’s what happens when you behave. Never say I don’t reward obedience.”
You can’t quite see from this angle, but you still know exactly when San pushes inside Wooyoung. He shudders at the intrusion with a pleased moan, turning his head to glance back at San. He grins, just a little cheeky, when San’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Did you—?” San blinks, but then his eyes curve into a pleased smile. “You already prepped for this, babe? So considerate,” he purrs, squeezing Wooyoung’s ass in approval. He goes for another finger, just a few passes, but quickly pulls back to slick up his cock instead. “I could get used to this, you’re spoiling me today.”
“It wasn’t for you,” Wooyoung retorts. “Don’t get carried awa-aah—!”
The words are knocked out of him when San lines up and buries himself in Wooyoung’s tight hole in one smooth thrust.
“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that, Woo,” San says, panting slightly. He palms Wooyoung’s ass, then strikes with just enough force to have Wooyoung garble a choked moan. “I’d almost think you were mouthing off again, but that can’t be right, can it?”
“You’ll know when I’m—fuck, nghh!”
San quickly sets a hard pace, and your eyes go wide at the aggressive snap of his hips, brutal and hypnotising. You stop teasing yourself, two fingers picking up speed to match him, the heel of your hand rubbing against your clit. It’s not enough, not nearly enough compared to what you see, and you groan in frustration, pushing yourself to stretch around a third finger, arousal smeared on your thighs and dripping onto the chair.
Wooyoung moans and whimpers loudly with every thrust — noises that you are already familiar with, but never heard so closely, so clearly before, no more walls in between you and him.
San’s teeth are gritted, sweat falling down his chin. He keeps up the punishing slam of his hips as he fucks into Wooyoung, whose upper body crumples into the bed under the relentless onslaught. His knuckles are pale from how hard his fingers clench onto the sheets, prominent veins in his forearms.
Shamelessly, you flip back your skirt entirely and use your free hand to press at your clit at a better angle, wishing desperately for a vibrator; for Wooyoung’s thighs to hump and grind against; for San’s cock plunging inside of you. Their mouths on you, devouring you whole. You whimper as the fantasies pile onto the reality in front of you, augmenting each other and pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Wooyoung looks close to that edge too, his brow knitted, eyes squeezed shut; a faint glimmer of tears on his lashes. Drool gathers on the sheet under his mouth, nothing but garbled nonsense leaving his lips.
“Any smart words, hm?” San demands, grunting tightly from keeping up his pace.
Wooyoung can only moan, squirming in San’s hold. San’s fingers dig harder into his hips, forcing him to take and take and take his cock, over and over again.
There is a triumphant glint in San’s eyes at Wooyoung’s incoherent state, barely able to string two words together. “That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, laying down another smack on Wooyoung’s ass. You can see the reddening imprint even from where you’re sitting. “Never takes long before you’re fucked dumb on my cock.”
Wooyoung sobs, teething at the bedspread as a thick tear rolls down his cheek. You inhale a sharp breath at the sight, shooting through you like lightning.
San hears your gasp and freezes for a moment, immediately turning his head to you. His hips slow down to a shallow rocking, much to Wooyoung’s frustration, but San is focused on you; unsure whether your response is rooted in arousal or something else. “Colour,” he asks, firmly.
“Green,” Wooyoung whines loudly, “it’s green, you fucker, don’t stop now—”
San smacks his ass with a sharp hit. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he warns and Wooyoung shuts up — though he does not stay quiet, whimpery moans escaping him as he pushes his ass back.
But San pays him no further attention right now, looking at you. His expression is somewhere halfway between the hard dom of tonight and the gentle neighbour that you know; wanting to know for sure that he did not overstep in his degradation of Wooyoung.
You nod, vigorously. “Green,” you say in agreement, “very green.”
The way Wooyoung is losing himself in the thrill over this treatment, the way he revels in pushing San just to make him push back; he visibly gets off on the consequences of his bratty actions — and that is getting you off too.
San holds your gaze a moment longer, like he is gauging the honesty of your answer. Then he nods, with a wink so quick you almost miss it.
“You hear that, Woo? She likes me talking to you like this,” he purrs, leaning over to catch the tear on Wooyoung’s cheek with his tongue. He briefly rubs his nose against Wooyoung’s temple and straightens back up, quickly picking up the pace again.
But Wooyoung has lifted his head, coming just slightly out of his stupor at the sound of your voice. He looks in your direction; at perfect eye level with your leaking cunt, and the three fingers sunk deeply inside.
His face contorts with a pained groan, fingers twitching in the sheets. The lewd display of you fucking yourself on your fingers breaking through his last shred of self-control. “Oh fuck,” he hiccups. “Look at that wet pussy. F-fuck, been so long since I last buried myself in a juicy cunt like that.” He is full-on rambling now, his tongue thick and speech slurred.
You whimper, clenching around your fingers. No touching, you remind yourself. It’s just talk.
“Wanna suffocate between those thighs, god you’d taste so good I just know it,” he babbles, high on the thought of you, and the mental images blaze through your head like wildfire.
He would tease, you are dead certain of it; he’d drive you mad on purpose until you grab his hair and grind into his face, exactly as he wants you to — fuck, that gorgeous slope of his nose looks just perfect to ride up against your clit—
“Woo…” San says warningly, but he is deaf to it.
“Can I—” Wooyoung sobs, repeating the words like a chant, Can I— Can I— Can I—
“Y-yes.”
It slips past your lips before you can think it through. Quiet and desperate; but Wooyoung hears. San hears. He tuts sharply, mercilessly intercepting the shaky hand that Wooyoung reaches out to you.
“You know the rules, Woo,” he chides, but even without him looking your way, it still feels partially directed at you too. “Or are you so drunk on my cock that you can’t remember something that simple? Tell me what the rule is, now.”
“N-no touching…” Wooyoung whines.
San nods in approval, and rewards Wooyoung by reaching around to wrap a firm hand around his neglected cock. “Good,” he coos. “Look at you, you poor thing. So drunk on cock but still starved for pussy.” San’s eyes are on you now, and you’re taken aback by the hunger there, like he has mixed feelings on reinforcing the rule.
“Can’t even blame you for forgetting,” he says with quiet intensity, the smooth roll of his hips losing their aggressive edge, his hand working a little faster instead. Wooyoung makes a noise of complete debauchery, burrowing his face back into the bed with a desperate moan. “What a mess she is making, dripping on my chair,” San goes on, licking his lips, “all just for us. So cruel of me, dangling her in front of you like that. A pretty cunt like that deserves to be worshipped.”
The praise blooms hotly in your core, and with a flash you realise this is San’s way of reassuring you he is not upset about the push against boundaries. Suddenly the heat wraps into a sharp coil, and you’re not sure what does it; San’s hungry praise or the desperate stutter of Wooyoung’s hips as San jerks him off, slick wet noises mingling with shaky whimpers. They pick up in speed as Wooyoung rushes towards his own peak, dragging you down with him into his unravelling.
You fall apart right after he does, broken by his choked up sobs; by him futilely twisting and wriggling against San’s strong grip. Your thighs shake, toes curling, the slide of your fingers against your clit just right — but the sight of the two men in front of you even more potent. Your hips jerk up as pleasure surges through you, mouth falling slack in a silent cry.
Desperately, you try to keep your fingers moving, to ride out this wave for as long as you can; all while watching how San’s palm glistens wetly as he lets go of Wooyoung’s cock and grabs onto his waist, yanking him back as San fucks into him, shifting focus to his own release. Wooyoung is nothing but a crumpled, snivelling mess but still he groans eagerly, encouraging San to use him.
San does just so, leaning over Wooyoung’s prone body to bite at his neck as San ruts into him, panting for breath. San’s moans grow higher than you expected, his low grunts fading away; if he was putting on a tough front when you first came in the bedroom, he no longer is now, too preoccupied with chasing his high.
Somehow it feels vulnerable, his dominant coat slipping off his shoulders. Like it’s something you’re not supposed to see — except he does let you see, lets you watch how the persona falls away as he slowly comes undone. Your breath hitches, a sharp moan catching in your throat as suddenly the aftershocks of your first orgasm stir with renewed life; and just like that you cum again, biting down your noises as though not to disturb San, trembling quietly in the chair as you watch, entranced. San’s hips finally stutter with a loud whine and then he stills entirely, pressing his face between Wooyoung’s shoulder blades with a drawn-out shudder.
With a weak moan your hands fall away; your body spent as though you are the one who just got fucked within an inch of your life.
The bedroom goes silent, almost.
Everyone is catching their breath, and Wooyoung makes an unintelligible sound when San pulls out and gently lowers him onto the bed. San’s eyes go soft as he brushes the hair out of Wooyoung’s face, kissing him on the forehead before he straightens up.
While you and Wooyoung lay boneless, slowly recovering, San rolls his shoulders and stretches his limbs with a quiet grunt, then grabs a robe to put on. He goes back to the nightstand, this time for a bottle of water. You never even noticed the two glasses that he clearly prepared beforehand, along with a few washcloths. He fills a glass, dampens a cloth, and returns to Wooyoung’s side.
Wooyoung hums in thanks as San helps him upright and hands him the glass of water. He takes a slow sip while San starts to wipe the sweat and other bodily juices off his skin, a grin bubbling up to his lips as his energy recharges. “Did so well, Sannie,” he says, stealing little touches with his free hand while San cleans him up. Eyes glittering with pure adoration. “Took such good care of me, you always do.”
“Shush. Drink your water,” San chides him, but his cheeks glow red at Wooyoung’s steady babble of praises.
The intimate sight of San and Wooyoung in their little bubble causes an unexpected fuzzy warmth to bloom in your chest; touched that they also trust you as an audience for this part, the quiet aftermath. It’s making you strangely timid after all that just transpired, smoothing down your skirt almost subconsciously.
Finally San takes the now empty glass back from his boyfriend. He pulls a blanket across Wooyoung’s body and helps him settle on the bed, where Wooyoung immediately snuggles up against a pillow and lets his eyes rest. (For a guy who made a point of ‘being able to go more than one round’, he sure is out like a light.)
San leaves a final peck on the top of Wooyoung’s head and sits back up, then goes to fill the other glass. He brings it to you with a fresh cloth, and hands you the drink. You take it with a grateful nod, but blink in surprise when San leans in to dab the sweat off your forehead.
He seems to suddenly realise what he has done, freezes instantly, then yanks his hand back as though burned. “Sorry,” he mumbles awkwardly, whispering so he won’t wake Wooyoung back up. “Forgot the damn rule myself.”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, taking the cloth off his hands with a small, tired smile. You really didn’t mind. Did it even count now, during the aftercare?
San returns the smile. “Don’t tell Wooyoung, will you? I won’t hear the end of it,” he jokes, and you raise your thumb and forefinger to your lips to ‘zip’ them closed.
“Your secret is safe with me,” you promise solemnly, but the serious expression does not last for long; pushed out by the undeniable urge to tease San. “Besides, it’s nice to have some blackmail in case I ever need a favour from you.”
“Seriously?” he scoffs. “You’re as much of a handful as Wooyoung, aren’t you?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment!”
“Don’t tell him that, either,” San says with a soft laugh, shaking his head.
It is silent again, and you wonder if you should feel awkward, cleaning yourself up right in front of San. You should, right? But he isn’t watching you anymore, simply keeping you company in the quiet, and somehow the whole thing just feels easy and natural. So you wipe the washcloth across your thighs with a ginger touch, avoiding the places where you are most sensitive. Just a quick pass to clean the worst of the dried arousal and sweat sticking there. You’ll take a proper shower at home.
“About what happened…” San says after a while, when it’s clear you have settled and are breathing a little easier, “what Wooyoung said. What you said—”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry. We did agree on no touching beforehand, I shouldn’t have pushed it.”
He snorts. “You weren’t the only one pushing. But no, it’s fine. I told you, I don’t mind improvising, but in this case…” San hesitates, like he’s not sure how much to say. “Woo is a bit more impulsive than me during a scene. I… like clarity. I like knowing for sure that nobody does anything they might have second thoughts about later. Maybe I’m too cautious sometimes, but that’s how it works for me. So I didn’t shut it down because of you, I want you to know that. That was for me.”
“I understand. You feel responsible for him during a scene like this, right?”
“I am responsible for him. And for you too,” San gently corrects. “That’s how I see it, at least. It’s part of what I signed up for.”
“‘Signed up for’?” a hoarse voice echoes from the bed. “What am I, a job?”
“A full-time one, Woo,” San fires back without missing a beat, smiling fondly as he says it. “How long you’ve been listening in?”
Wooyoung’s head pops out from underneath the blanket, his red hair in complete disarray. But his eyes are already clearer than they were just a few minutes ago; maybe you should give him some credit for his recovery time after all.
“I don’t have second thoughts this time,” he mumbles, his speech still a little slurred.
San just nods in acknowledgement, and turns to you with an inquisitive look. The implied question is all too clear.
“No second thoughts here either,” you agree. No point in getting shy now.
“Well,” San says, and that easy, confident grin is back on his face, “then I guess we’ll have to do this again sometime.”
“Mm, good,” Wooyoung says, turning over to his other side to get settled again. Then he glances back at San, a spark of trouble in his eyes. “Do you need a refresher on the ground rules before that happens, Sannie? Just in case you forget any?”
“Dammit,” San groans under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. Brow furrowed in pain, he gives you a reproachful look for the laugh that you unsuccessfully try to muffle. “So much for your blackmail,” he sighs.
#igby’s writing#ateez smut#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez fic#woosan x reader#san smut#san x reader#wooyoung smut#wooyoung x reader#ateez hard hours#kpop smut#ateez#san#wooyoung#ateez scenarios#san ateez#wooyoung ateez#san imagines#wooyoung imagines#san scenarios#wooyoung scenarios
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Shower of Gold
Pairing: Dad!Coriolanus Snow x Mom!Reader
Chapter Synopsis: The Mother
Warning: warming up to parenthood
Word Count: 2874
6 of 7
When Aurelius Hyperion Swansworth-Snow was born, Coriolanus’ world just got a whole lot bigger.
He never thought he could love another the same as he loved you. But he did.
Little Harper, as you would call him, looked exactly like his father. The same golden curls and piercing blue eyes. His cheeks were fat and pink as he babbled.
And just like his father, Little Harper loved you very much.
You have never been without Harper. To the point that it often puts a strain on the intimate relationship you had with your husband. But one pointed stare from you would let Coriolanus loosen his possessive hold on your waist, often looking like a kicked puppy as he sulks the entire night, sleeping with his back turned to you.
But with a wet kiss and a chubby hand slapping his cheek awake in the mornings, his brooding dissipates and he gladly accepts his little boy’s affections.
“Good morning, daddy.” You say as your son claps his hands excitedly.
Coriolanus blinks his eyes as he looks at you, the sleepy fog is yet to leave his head but it does not stop him from seeing just how beautiful you are. You are still in your sleeping gown, your hair disheveled, and your eyes still droop with sleepiness. He believes it was at moments like this when he loves you the most. When his mind is empty and your smiling face is the first thing that enters his head.
“Good morning.” He drawls and he turns to his son who was nibbling at his deltoid that was the size of the kid’s head. He looks at the string of saliva that webbed on his arm. “That’s unsanitary.”
You scoff at your husband, cooing at your baby the next second. “He just misses his daddy. Don’t you, Harper?”
Harper looks at you curiously, bringing his chubby fist to his mouth. You lay your head to Coriolanus’ chest as you coo at him. Harper was unsure what you were doing but the happiness on your face brought forth a toothless smile from him.
He receives a smooch to his cheek from you and absentmindedly, Coriolanus puts his large hands to your baby’s face.
Your baby’s eyes cross as he keeps his eyes on your husband’s enormous hand.
Before you can ask what he is doing, Coriolanus gently pushes him down to the pillow that supports his back.
You shriek in mortification, your baby blinks at the ceiling, not quite processing what has happened. You swat at your husband’s chest as you get up to help your son to sit back up.
“I am so sorry, baby. Daddy’s such a horrible man, isn’t he?” You coo to your baby who is yet unsure whether he should be laughing or crying. “Daddy, you bully!” You accuse him as you pat your baby’s leg gently.
He only looks at you blankly, making you sigh and lean down to plant a kiss to his awaiting lips. He always gets so cranky in the early mornings.
“Now, get up.” You say as you rub his chest. Coriolanus grunts as he gets out of bed, stretching like a cat as he yawns. He ruffles Harper’s blonde curls before leaving you to take a shower.
He was already halfway through his coffee when you arrived with Harper now freshly bathed.
Coriolanus looks at Harper as you place him on the high chair.
“We have a meeting today.” Coriolanus reminds you as he keeps his eyes trained on his son.
You nod. “Yes, I studied the report last night.”
“Harper?” He sips his coffee as he reads the recent reports about the new District 12 mayor.
You chuckle knowingly as you nuzzle your nose against Harper’s. “Little Harper’s coming with mommy, of course.” He giggled as his fingers were quick to grab at your clothes.
Coriolanus smiles in his seat after he stole a glance at you.
“One wail and he’s out.”
“Oh, honestly!” You have taken offense for your boy but Coriolanus challenges you with his own stern gaze. “So mean.” You mutter as you start feeding Harper with baby food.
Your husband puts the papers away and starts his breakfast. “I just did not want you to look unprofessional.”
“Corio?”
“Hm?”
“Shut up.”
His eyes narrow before he returns to his breakfast.
A scowl was painted on your face the entire breakfast and you refused to talk to him anymore. Responding with nods and silence to his attempt to start another conversation.
Coriolanus knows that he might have offended you deeply.
“Are you ready?” He asks as you wipe Harper’s face with the bib.
You respond by getting up and scooping your son in your arms, your chin raised as you carry yourself with elegance. The baby bag was waiting to be picked up by you in the corner but Coriolanus beats you to it.
He walks ahead of you, the baby bag slung on his shoulder and his briefcase on his other hand. You quietly follow him, not acknowledging him when he opens the doors for you, one leading out of your mansion and the other to your car.
Coriolanus waits by the backseat, just next to Harper’s car seat. He had to pick it personally. It was heavily padded, bulky enough to put you at ease, knowing that your baby will be protected should anything happen.
“I’ll strap him in.” He offers as he fixes the aviators resting on his nose as he looks past your head.
Coriolanus is a proud man, you understand this is his way of apologizing.
You kiss Harper’s nose and you place him in your husband’s secure hold.
In the meantime, you buckle yourself in the passenger seat.
Coriolanus soon joins you in front and he starts the car after securing his seatbelt.
The silence was loud, had it not been for Harper’s babbles, you would have been tempted to turn the radio on. You choose to review your itinerary for the day when a warm hand sneaks to your thigh and you feel Coriolanus’ thumb brushing it in a soothing manner.
“Apologize properly.” You quip.
“Y/N please.” He says tiredly.
“No. I want you to say you are sorry.”
He wets his lips with his tongue and his jaw tightens as he keeps his eyes on the road, the leather cladding the wheel creaks under his grip.
When he refuses to do it, you return to your schedule.
“I’m sorry.”
You keep your eyes on the piece of paper attached to your planner and your husband groans as he leans back in his chair, his head resting on the support.
“I’m sorry for antagonizing our son.” He squeezes your thigh. “And for insulting you. I know you are more than capable in balancing both your duties to Panem and our family.”
Finally, your rouge painted lips spread to a small smile.
“You are forgiven.” You place your hand over his. The glint of the rings on your finger easing his anxiousness a bit more.
Harper yaps and Coriolanus grins. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry, I’m not stealing mommy.”
You press a knuckle to your lips, not wanting to laugh as your son takes quick offense in being left out. You try to keep your voice down as you turn to your husband. “I’ll make time for us later, I promise.”
He brings your hand to his lips to kiss and quickly lets you go as Harper yaps angrily.
The moment you enter the presidential mansion, one you use only for official business, Harper understands that he cannot be fussy anymore. He was seated on your lap, nibbling on a fruit pacifier as a man talked while pointing at the bright square behind him. The moving objects greatly entertained the baby on your lap.
Harper recognizes your voice and looks up. He pulls the pacifier from his mouth when your tone sharpens. The boy’s blond crinkle together as his lips jut out when the unknown man responds to you with anger.
The other people in the room also seem to be angry at the person standing and Harper leans back on your stomach knowing that his mommy is not alone. But the man is suddenly pointing at you and to him, the poor innocent boy. Harper grunts and looks at his father angrily.
“Da!”
Coriolanus, who was leaning to the side with his legs crossed, looked at his son. He brings a finger to his lips and Harper huffs.
“You are failing to see things objectively.” Coriolanus says to the man who was starting to sweat under the disapproving eyes of everyone present in the room. “The Lady did not dismiss your idea because she was biased to infants. Your idea was dismissed as administering a vaccine to the younger population of Panem without having it thoroughly tested could be catastrophic. We are talking about large scale mortality.”
The man laughs and Harper presses himself closer to you, disturbed by the behavior.
“Why do you care, Mister President? They’re just Districts!”
Coriolanus nods, finally understanding the argument of this man. He had suspicions but he wanted the man to say it.
“Districts.” Coriolanus grins sardonically. “Do you plan to instigate a second rebellion?”
The man is tongue-tied, he makes wild gestures but fails to keep his argument. “Exaggeration.” He laughs nervously.
“When their children start dying off, will they not fight back?” Coriolanus asks. “And a rebellion does not happen overnight.” He adds. “It is because of the piling up missteps made by men like you.” Harper slams his chubby hand on the desk to show he is on his father’s side. “Thank you, Harper. And who will suffer when that happens?”
The man looks at his feet in shame. The backlash could be severe. The crops and livestock sent to the Capitol could be poisoned. The Capitol could be powered down when all the system shuts off.
Countless possibilities and consequences could take place after one wrong decision.
“But I understand that this vaccine is important.” Coriolanus sighs. “Send it back to the lab. Study it further for possible adverse reactions. I will not give the greenlight until you are able to tell me the mechanism of action of this vaccine without looking at your notes.”
As the men file out of the room, you sit Harper on the hard wood table as you clean up your desk. “I cannot believe the cabinet let this man reach your office. He was unprepared.” You say and Harper continues to chew on his pacifier, the crushed cherries inside needs replacing.
Coriolanus agrees with you and scoops Harper off the table, the little boy draws his arms and chin over his father’s shoulder to check if you are close by. “Shall we go, my love?”
You nod and you stand on your tippy toes to press a kiss on Harper’s cheek as you lean on Coriolanus for support.
The next event is the annual summit, where Coriolanus is expected to give a speech involving the latest reports and advancements made by Panem’s Capitol based research facility and what plans lie ahead.
In the ceremony, the Lady Justice was often a symbolic figure that was ever present. Only this time, a sword seems to have gone missing in the smaller statue that is kept in the Presidential mansion’s reception hall.
“This is a disgrace.” Your husband tells the staff who were in charge of the events. “How could something so essential be misplaced?”
Harper was getting fussy in your arms at the sight of his father so agitated.
It seemed rather insignificant but having it missing is a blatant display of disrespect.
Your mind races for possible solutions.
You can talk to the media to cut the view of the Lady Justice.
Or perhaps you can have the entire statue be carried out of the room, no that would cause too much commotion.
And then it hits you.
“Corio.” You call and he reluctantly heads your way. “The sword in your office.”
Harper pulls at Coriolanus’ tie and nibbles. Your husband gently pulls the fabric, ignoring the wet stain as he processes your words.
“I think it might be the perfect size.” He rubs his chin. “I’ll go send someone to get it.”
You put a firm hand on his chest and he pauses.
“Harper and I will come get it.” You smile at him reassuringly. “It’s only a few floors up. And the peacekeepers stationed in your office will let me through and out with no hitches.”
Coriolanus wanted to protest but you were right.
You would be most efficient for the task.
“I can watch Harper.” He offers but you shake your head.
“Relax for now. Harper is going to help mommy get the sword.”
Coriolanus smiles tiredly and he presses his forehead against yours, his large hand placed on Harper’s back protectively.
“Da.” Harper calls and Coriolanus chuckles and snaps his fingers, an Avox places a pair of aviators to his hands, one he previously wore, and he puts it on Harper.
You often do this when you expect a lot of camera flashes. You would hate to overwhelm your baby.
“Still can’t believe that’s his first word when he’s such a momma’s boy.” Your husband says, making you smile affectionately.
You give him one last look before you rush out of the room with Harper in your arms. Camera flashes from the reporters follow after you.
The guests are already arriving and the main media companies are setting up their equipment. You have no time to lose.
Harper was such a good kid, not fussing as he clung to you when you rushed to the office of your dear husband.
As expected, the peacekeepers stationed outside the doors let you through without even asking about your business to be in the office.
You easily spot the sword on the side. It hasn’t been removed from the position you first saw it in back at the inauguration of Coriolanus as President.
“You beauty.” You smile as you easily grab it from the bracket mounted on the wall. Harper made an attempt to touch it but you were quick enough to pull it away from him. “This is dangerous, sweetheart.” You easily slip it inside the scabbard as you refuse to take any chances for Harper.
The peacekeepers stationed outside the presidential office were oriented about what happened and gladly reopened the door for you and Harper.
People moved out of the way as they saw the sword on your hand and the baby on the other. You have your chin held high as you enter the hall. Coriolanus stopped mid sentence while talking to Strabo Plinth at the sight of you.
“Oh, good Heavens!” Mrs. Plinth exclaims and approaches you with concern. You looked rather dangerous with the enormous weapon in your hand. Harper smiles brightly when he sees her and he raises his arms, wanting to be picked up by the woman. Mrs. Plinth cups her mouth, touched by the little boy’s behavior. You gladly hand her your son.
Grandmotherhood is a privilege stolen from her.
Mr. Plinth was smiling at you when you approached him and your husband.
“She saves the day.” He tells Coriolanus who nods with a proud look in his eyes.
You give Coriolanus the sword and he steps on the ladders to place the sword on the empty hand of the Lady Justice.
“Justice is restored.” The former President, Maximinius Ravinstill, claps his hand and the rest of the crowd rises from their seats to applaud you and Coriolanus. Justice was not something that could have easily been lost after the disappearance of a sword but The Lady Justice was an important symbolic figure not just to Corso but to Panem.
That night, you are in your shared bedroom. You are resting your back on the headboard, your tired back being cushioned by enormously large pillows while your son has fallen asleep from nursing on your ample bosom.
You are humming a soft tune, your feet moving to the melody when Coriolanus enters. He is yet to change his clothing as he was still in his dress pants and shirt that has a few buttons undone.
“Your grand entrance overshadowed the event.” He grins as he shows you the paper. There in the headlines, a picture of you with Harper held on one arm and sword on the other.
“Oh, Corio.” You frown apologetically. “I am sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He scoffs, the smile remaining on his face. “Everybody loved it! They forgave the errors I mentioned as they were so enamored by you.”
You are not certain how to respond but he shows you the photo once more.
“Look at Harper.” He says excitedly. “Grandma’am sent a photo of mine when I was still a toddler and he looks exactly just like me.”
You are not certain if Coriolanus was aware of the smitten look on his face but you dare not point it out as you listen to him talk about the photos and Harper.
Coriolanus might act indifferent to his son at times but he cannot deny the fact that Harper has him wrapped around his chubby little finger.
Quest for Happiness
News Article
#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#tbosas#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#hunt for glory#quest for happiness#dad coriolanus
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dancing with our hands tied — eddie munson
୨ৎ ˙ ˖
summary Eddie seems to live in constant hell except when he is with you.
tags +18. eventual smut. friends to best friends to lovers. angst. pining. no upside down. slight chrissy x eddie and jealous reader. fingering. p in v without protection; be smart irl. no use of y/n, eddie calls reader peach. lose of virginity.
tw eddie has an older brother who punches him. slight mentions of blood and violence. alcohol. mention of drugs. if i forgot anything lmk!
w.c 7.6 k
a/n hey people! it’s the first time i write something like this. the fic is divided in tiny chapters that are titled by the lines of taylor’s song (see title) i hope it’s easy to understand and let me know if you like the format ♡ enjoy!
I. First sight, we love without reason.
It came to you as a surprise, really. The moment he sat down on the nearest seat to start the tutoring lesson. The secret is Eddie has always been good at English, it’s a thing among others that he kept as a secret. You weren’t sure why he would hide it, even lie about it.
You and Eddie became friends easily. But you wish the relationship had more meaning, you weren’t friends just school friends. The worst kind of friend you could be with someone as cool and pretty as Eddie.
One day, in the early morning of a cloudy Thursday Eddie attended school with a black eye. He rushed past you mumbling a kind Hey and going his way. You said hi back but it was too late, he was gone.
You missed him the rest of the day, he didn’t show up to class. His friends were alone at lunch. There was no sign of Eddie until later, tutoring sessions.
He slumps on the chair next to you, taking a deep breath and scratching his scalp nervously. His hands were shaking as he started to scribble on your textbook.
Your mind wasn’t focused on the textbook once, you looked longingly at the maroon-tinted bruise on his eye. A cut, maybe 12 hours old, rested on the bridge of his nose.
“Sorry if I’m interrupting” you whispered “I can’t keep my eyes off…your… are you okay, Eddie?” you pointed your finger at his eye, and he turned his head to look at you.
“Yeah, no don’t worry” he sighs, shifting uncomfortably in the wooden chair and taking a deep look at your face.
Your mouth has formed a pout and your brows are furrowed, Eddie tried to read your mind and he succeeded. You were worried.
“My stupid older brother, he comes in unexpectedly, and when I tried to kick him out of the trailer he punched me”
“Oh, I’m so sorry Eddie” You lean your head to the side, his face looks better from this angle.
He looks tired, the punch looks like it hurts a lot, more if it came from a person of his own bloodline.
“You know what, we can study another time and you can go rest” Your hands are quick to close the textbook, gathering all your stuff as Eddie’s body comes closer to you.
He takes your wrist on his hand, with a little more pressure than intended. When your mouth leans to the side he realizes he is hurting you (not too much, but still he didn’t mean it).
“No, I'm sorry” he drops your hand on your lap, delicately “We can study, I'm fine. Please I need the money”
“I know, I will pay you. But I can’t sit here and I can't focus knowing you are in pain or your mind is somewhere else” You smile at him, and he nods.
“Thanks…I'm having a really bad day. I cannot thank you enough, tomorrow we can study double I promise”
“Don’t worry, I got you” You head out of the library beside him “Take care of that, it looks like it’s going to stay there for a while”
He giggles at your comment, you are not sure why. You pay him for today and he smiles at you.
“Thank you, Peach”
He didn’t talk about his family much, he wasn’t entirely sure if there was something interesting to talk about. His mom left a few years ago, along with his older brother, leaving little Eddie and Uncle Wayne alone.
You knew Wayne from one of Eddie’s stories he told you about. He loves the man like he is his own father, but he is in a lot of debt with him.
Wayne takes care of Eddie as if he’s his own child. He surely loves Eddie like that. He works most of the day and night leaving his nephew alone in the trailer park.
One of those cold and lonely nights Eddie’s brother came to visit him at the trailer park only seeking some money. He was out of luck, and so was Eddie, when his furious brother came in and punched him in the face. Not once, but twice.
Eddie’s head and face hurt the rest of the night. He unfortunately overslept and didn’t get a chance to start school properly so he chose to show up just to the tutoring sessions. He needed the cash, you needed help.
II. Picture of your face in an invisible locket.
A week has passed since Eddie’s brother came to town. You’ve grown closer to Eddie than before.
You hang out after school now that tutoring lessons are over, he invites you to Hellfire Club to watch the campaigns and you sit there watching the whole thing unravel. He had a great imagination, and a wonderful mind full of creative stories and riddles. The kids enjoy his company as much as you do.
He talked about his problems at home with you, trying to get the ugly feeling out of his chest. You listened to him buying him a cup of ice cream and enjoying the wonderful summer breeze.
“I enjoy being with you,” he said “You are a great friend, Peach”
You smiled at him. He smiled at you. His dimples showed up for the first time since you’ve known him, a simple gesture that knocked some sense on you, you had a crush on him.
“Me too, Eds”
Your relationship with Eddie has evolved, not only do you have pet names for each other but it seems like you are best friends. It’s been some weeks since the first time he offered to tutor you and you accepted immediately.
You’ve always liked Eddie, he is his true self every time and he is proud of it.
You admire it.
People at school used to call him awful names, it was always like that until he met Chrissy. The popular kids are the ones that make more fun of him as if it wasn’t exhausting for them to be assholes and jerks nine hours a day. They have toned their jokes down knowing that the queen of Hawkins has a soft place for Eddie and he is more than happy hanging out with her sometimes.
That made your heart ache, it was a dreadful feeling.
After spending some time with Eddie you went home. Still under that lavender haze of accepting that you had a crush on him for a while. It was embarrassing to you only because you were so, so obsessed with him.
His face. His hands. His scent. His hair. Realizing everything about him made you crazy was scary, he only had eyes for one person who was the most perfect cheerleader in the history of high school.
To distract your mind from all the lousy thoughts you took a shower, it was quick, you needed to brush off the sweat and release some tension with a thorough massage on your scalp. The lavender shampoo lingered in the air, relaxing every inch of your body.
After the shower, it was time to eat some dinner. Instead of making a complicated meal you decided to heat some leftovers from yesterday and enjoy your evening eating and dancing in the kitchen with some of your old records playing upbeat songs to cheer you up.
A knock on your door makes you jump after finishing dinner. No one used to come by at this hour, not when your dad was out of town.
You get close to the door and look through the peephole to see who’s interrupting your godly moment. It was Eddie.
A gasp falls out of your mouth and you open the door as quickly as possible. You meet Eddie’s trembling body standing in front of you, his lip is bleeding and his eyes are watering.
“God, Eds…” you whisper, he leans closer to you, wrapping his hands around your neck and hugging you.
You didn’t say anything else, just mirrored his movements and wrapped his waist with your arms. Taking a few steps back and leading him in, you close the door with your foot and he stands there, still not letting you go.
You rub his back as he tries to ease his breath.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know where else to go so I-” he takes a step back breaking contact with you, his head falls as his eyes look at his feet.
“He, he did this to you again?” he broke contact so fast you decided to stay in your place, careful not to overwhelm him with unwanted touches.
“Yeah, shit shit, sorry I should've called. My mind sort of blacked out and the only thing I could remember was your street and the color of your house, the one with the weird birdhouse…”
“Eds, it’s okay” you interrupt “Let me help you, alright? let me clean your wound and make you some hot chocolate”
He nods, walking with you to the bathroom and past your bedroom. You are quick to find the first aid kit, taking some rubbing alcohol and gauze to clean Eddie’s cut. He hisses at the stingy feeling in his mouth, you apologize and he encourages you to continue.
And there you are, with the boy that you like so much. He leans on the counter closing his eyes and allowing himself to feel at peace with you around him.
You stand between his legs, his inner thighs rubbing the exposed skin of your thighs. The ungodly thoughts need to go away so you blink pretty fast, focusing, it’s not the moment nor the place nor the person.
You finish up cleaning his wound and placing a band aid over it to avoid any sort of discomfort while it heals.
“It’s ready” Eddie opens his eyes, finding you in front of him. So close. The white light in the bathroom makes you look like an angel.
“Thank you, peach” he squeezes your cheek slightly. Neither of you move from where you stand, so close to each other but so far at the same time.
“It’s nothing, let’s make you some chocolate”
“Wait, I'm not really hungry. I need to clear my mind and feel at peace for a bit, ‘m just gonna go back to my place to rest but again… thank you” he stands up straight and you step back, missing the heat of his body.
“No! you can’t go back, it's dangerous. My dad is out of town, you can stay here”
His head leans down to one side, he looks at you concerned.
“Really?”
“Yeah, of course. Anything for my best friend” you say. It’s the first time you call him like that. It’s the first time anybody has called him like that.
“Thank you, again, thank you”
“No problem, let me get you some fresh clothes”
You get Eddie some of your oversized clothes that only get out of your closet on rainy days. You give him some space to change and freshen up in the bathroom, getting him a new toothbrush and a towel so he can wash his face.
When he gets out you offer him the guest room, he immediately denies it and asks if he can sleep with you. You shake your head and show him a gentle smile.
“Is this okay? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or bother you” he asks while you get the bed ready to sleep.
“It’s okay, Eds. I get that you don’t want to be alone, do not worry”
You get in bed, he drops his body beside you. Both of you rest your head on the pillows while looking at the ceiling.
“You can stay here in the morning if you don’t want to go to school, I do have to go and hand in this paper I’ve been working on”
“Thank you, I owe you one,” he says, crossing his arms in front of his chest and letting out a sigh.
“You don’t, I’m happy to help you” You look at him, but he doesn’t look back. “Goodnight, Eds”
“Goodnight, sweetheart”
The pet name falls from his lips so beautifully.
You close your eyes with a smile plastered on your face, aware that the heat of your cheeks is present leaving a pink tint.
You are thankful it’s dark and Eddie is about to fall asleep so he won’t notice.
When you fall asleep Eddie does too. It takes him a couple of seconds to get into a deep sleep, he hasn’t slept like this in weeks, all thanks to the torture of his stupid brother and the constant thought of him coming back to punch him.
He feels safe around you and he is more than grateful to be your friend.
III. ‘Cause it’s gravity, keeping you with me.
Eddie has been staying over at your house multiple times, Your dad is out of town and you appreciate the company, his company. Sometimes he comes with you right after school, other times after he hangs out with Chrissy. You are not sure of what kind of relationship they have but it still hurts your heart every time he laughs at something she says.
You are thankful for having him over. The nights consist of movies, old tv shows, watching the commercials on the tv, and listing in your head what to buy next for these reunions.
The last slice of pizza remains in the box, it should be cold and washy but
Eddie is fine with it. He watches you from the corner of his eye, your gaze glued to him.
“Sorry, did you want the last slice?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts into reality.
“Huh? No, no you have it”
“Sure?”
“I hate it when the pizza is cold” Your mouth falls to the side, and you look at the slice with disgust.
“Bummer, I’ll have this baby for myself”
He raises his hand with the slice between his fingers, his head falls to the back and he takes a bite of the tip of the slice. You watch him in awe, not really thinking about how weird it is to watch Eddie eat, but your eyes can never leave his face. His mouth opens and his jaw tightens when he takes a bite, and another, and another until he finishes it.
“Don’t know why you pushed this aside, it was so good”
The corner of his mouth is full of tomato sauce and cheese grease, you laugh at him shaking your head.
“You have something… there” you point with your finger, Eddie furrows his brows and leans his head to the side looking like a confused puppy.
“Where? Here?” He wipes his mouth and smiles victorious, although it is the opposite side.
“No, here”
You get closer to him. His body is fully turned to the left so you sit in front of him kneeling.
He watches you getting close, he takes a deep breath as his Adam’s apple bobs as a result of his own nerves. You are too close, you’ve never been this close –just once when he hugged you – not even when you two are sleeping in your bed.
As you take the napkin to clean his face you get the opportunity to get closer, you wipe his mouth slowly and pinch his chin between your fingers. You breathe and he is mixing up, the room feels suddenly too hot.
Eddie wants to give in, he gets his head closer. He doesn't care about anything, just you. The only source of light is the TV which gives a shadow of multiple colors on your face, it’s adorable. Your body, your naked thighs, your pretty face so close. He is about to kiss you until you speak.
Shit.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot”
“How do you punch someone?” you ask, he shakes his head confused shaking off the thoughts he had earlier. He was so close to kissing you, but he couldn’t. You are his best friend.
“Wow,” Eddie laughs, grinning “Who do you want to punch, exactly?”
“I met someone”
Your news hit Eddie in the chest. He shouldn’t be feeling like this but he is… jealous?
“He told me to go to this party with him… and a friend told me I should be prepared for everything”
“Everything? Like if he wants to get in your pants you’d punch him?”
“Only if he is a real jerk and thinks he is too smart”
Eddie nods, he takes your hands in his standing up from the couch. You follow him.
“Alright, pay attention”
He drops one of your hands and takes your dominant hand in his, the cold rings on his fingers keep you from falling apart from his touch.
“The secret is in your hips and shoulders, that’s where the power comes from okay?”
“Yeah, but please don’t teach me how to kill someone. I just want to throw a little punch if needed”
“I know, peach” he laughs “Stand up like this” His stance looks professional, maybe he has done this before. Maybe to protect himself from his older brother.
“First things first, your stance gives you balance so you don’t fall to the floor and break your nose too y’know?”
“Am I going to break his nose?” you ask, a little scared of what you are getting yourself into.
“No! ‘M just saying. You don’t have a lot of strength to do that, don’t worry”
“Like this?” You mimic his stance, feeling a little awkward.
"Exactly. Now, focus on your fist” He hasn’t dropped your hand yet “Curl your fingers in, and tuck your thumb under them. This way, you won't hurt your hand when you punch”
“Why do I feel like I shouldn't be learning this?”
“You are fine, watch” Your hands form a perfect fist, Eddie holds it in his hands and tries to set you up on the perfect stance. Your knuckles turn a bit white as you focus on the lesson “See? Perfect”
“I got it”
"Now punch me,” he says, he is serious.
“What?”
“C’mon I’ve taken the worst punches, bet yours will feel light as a feather” he grins. Inside he feels dumb for aching your touch so much even if it means taking a hit “Twist your body and extend your arm in a straight line, then go straight to my cheek” his fingertip touches his cheek “Not my nose! Please” he remarks, but at the same time he is encouraging you.
“Alright,” you do as he says, swinging your arm back and forth. Your fist comes into contact with his cheek and he groans in pain, his head falls to one side.
“Jesus H. Christ!” he caresses his cheek with the palm of his hand “I underestimated you” A chuckle falls from his lips, and you are covering your mouth with your hands surprised. Your eyes are glassy.
“No, no don’t cry I’m fine”
“I’m so sorry Eddie. I thought- fuck, I didn’t see that coming! I am so fucking-sorry, sorry” you cry, your cheeks glow red as embarrassment washes over you.
“No, don’t” he is still laughing “Oh god, come here”
Eddie opens his arms and wraps them around your shoulders. This is the second time you hug him, and this time it feels different. One of his hands rubs your back to calm you down as you keep murmuring sorry. He keeps thinking you are the most adorable thing on the planet.
“Do we count this as tutoring? Am I getting cash for getting punched in the face?” he chuckles.
You bury your face in his chest, hugging his body tightly. He feels you trying to get closer.
“Yeah, yeah if you want”
“I'm joking, peach, you did good!”
You smile at the praise, although he can’t see it.
“Thank you for teaching me”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. It was a pleasure” he breaks the hug, and his hands come to rest on your arms. He is not giving up touching you “I hope whoever you punch… you do it harder than this one” he smiles.
As you watch his face, hypnotized, you smile back.
“I will, only if he is a jerk…”
“Or thinks he is too smart, gotcha” he interrupts, filling up the rest of the sentence “But you know if someone bothers you, you can call me and I will kick his ass right?”
“I’m a big girl, Eds. I can take care of myself”
“That I see! ‘M just offering, You did good honey” He pinches your cheek, and the new pet name hits right above your stomach where your anxiety rests. He has never called you that before, you feel the heat on your cheeks.
“We- uhm, we should sleep is getting late” You watch the clock, it is 3 am already.
“Oh shit, yeah. Let’s go”
IV. I’m a mess but i’m the mess that you wanted.
Watching Eddie kissing Chrissy was a punch on the tits. His hands are on her waist, she grabs his jacket getting closer. Their mouths were glued to each other. You were sure this was the night, this was the night you would tell Eddie your feelings, but instead, you decided to meet up with the guy you told him about. Ignoring your feelings for Eddie.
Nothing ever comes out as you wish, after punching the guy for trying to touch your ass after he didn’t even know you were in his math class, you punched him. Your hand hurts, but it was worth it.
You try to find Eddie but he isn’t around. Ignoring the feeling in your chest, you decide to fill the guilt and the secrets with alcohol.
After a lot of refills, the living room’s bottles are empty so you make your way around the house to find more. That’s when you find Eddie, you take your sixth? seventh? Cup of the night and walk to him.
“Eds!”
Your voice is like honey to him, he didn’t want to be here but as soon as Chrissy mentioned you were coming with “the guy” he wanted to be there. She was nowhere to be seen after spending some time with him.
“I did it! I punched him!” you mumble, proud of your achievement and so, so drunk.
“Fuck, I missed it?”
“Yeah, I have been looking for you everywhere to tell you” You lie, you’ve seen him multiple times and ignored him. It was a decision that sober you took. Drunk you is a little more insistent “I didn't think you were coming”
“Chrissy wanted to be here, I'm just keeping her company… was, she left” he looks around, but she is still somewhere else.
Her name rings in your ears, your stomach crumbles.
“Well, let’s get drunk!”
Deep down Eddie is grateful that the guy you were meeting up with fucked up everything and now you are with him. Chrissy is nowhere to be seen and you seem like you need someone to watch you. Take care of yourself.
You are so drunk, your whole body feels light and your head is in the clouds. Maybe you are a little bit high too.
“Can we find somewhere more quiet? I wanna smoke” Eddie finds himself screaming, the music getting louder with the minutes.
“Sure, let’s go”
You hold a red solo cup with something in it, enough to make you more tipsy. You follow Eddie outside, to the porch. The night is hot and Eddie realizes your dress is too short. He takes a deep breath, looking at your thighs as you take a sip from the cup.
Eddie lights a cigarette and takes a peek at the party from outside, The window leaves a space so the warm light of the house hits your face. The night at your house, the one when he almost kisses you comes back to his head. A side of your face lit up by the chaos inside, yet you look so peaceful, so beautiful.
“I need more of this. I- shit I forgot the n-name” you slur your words again, taking a step forward. Eddie takes your wrist in his hand, stopping you.
“What the fuuuuck?” you say.
“I think that’s enough for today, let’s go home”
Your whole body is on fire, all of your insides begging for more alcohol.
“Home? What? I didn’t know we lived together!”
“C’mon, peach. You know what I mean” Eddie’s cigarette bounces on his mouth, his voice is firm and his free hand comes to cup your waist.
“No, no. Let’s go dance here” You take his hand, the alcohol makes you bold. He follows you to the living room after dropping his cigarette.
The music is too loud, you empty the cup you had and throw it away.
“I’ll be right back, need to take a piss'” Eddie says, disappearing. You don’t hear him.
His “girlfriend” is still ignoring him, but he remembers what she said. She got mad because he was looking for you, and she got jealous too. Chrissy wanted all the attention but Eddie was giving it to you.
He stopped eating lunch with her, he was with you instead. Talking about random tv commercials that you thought were clever, it was some of an inside joke.
As he comes back from the bathroom he hears a crowd cheering, he is so done with this party, tired of the happy sappy music playing over and over, and the smell of sweat and alcohol makes him sick. He makes an effort to find you and he does.
There you are, standing on the table dancing. You were dancing, making some sexual moves that all the guys were screaming. Your hips move as the music gets to your ears, the whole room electrified by this little show.
Eddie’s face goes beet red, he can’t take this. He isn’t enjoying this.
Jealousy takes over him and he grabs your hand, yanking you down and letting you fall on his shoulder.
He carries you away from the table, a hand comes behind your back and he places his palm on your ass in an attempt to stop your dress from going up. You feel the cold of his rings again, your whole body lights up in anger as he carries you outside.
“Let me down! Eddie, I'm not joking!”
“Whine for as long as you want, I’m taking you home”
“Eddie please, I'm going to throw up”
He gives up, he lets you down and you pick up your breath. You place a hand on your belly trying to steady yourself and make the nausea go away.
“I need a moment… just give me a–”
“No! I know you will go back inside. You can’t even walk by yourself”
“Yes, I can! Don’t- don’t try to babysit me” you bicker.
He lets out a deep sigh, he is not letting you go back and you know it.
He wants to protect you, but more, he wants you to be with him and not dancing and showing off for anybody else. Yes, he was jealous and it was time to admit it. His feelings for Chrissy were never as intense as what he feels when he is with you.
“Sweetheart-”
“Don’t call me that!” you scream, his eyes open wide.
“Please just-”
He tries to hug you but you don’t let him.
“I'm not your sweetheart! The other day you called me like that too and I- what are you doing to me?”
“I don’t- fuck, what are you talking about?” Eddie is confused, you are acting like you don’t want him around, and that hurts him.
“I- I like you, Eddie! I fucking like you so bad but you… You don’t and I know it!” you have no time to breathe, the alcohol encourages you to confess your feelings.
“Peach-”
“No! No, I- I like you since that first day of tutoring… I’ve liked you since then and you don’t know how fucking hard it is to oh- sleep with you and you- almost fucking kissed me and I panicked. This, you, her- it’s too much ah- go away!” you cry out, your head is spinning and you can feel your temples aching.
This wasn’t planned, future you will kill you for this. But right now in the heat of the moment, you let Eddie know how you feel. Your whole body aches and your heart is shattered.
“I know you like her! Just- I don't want to talk to you right now!”
A salty taste lingers in your mouth, your tears. Your arms ache from the sudden cold breeze as the night gets darker. It’s maybe two or three in the morning. You are drunk and high. Eddie’s brain seems to stop working.
He is quiet, looking at the grass under his feet. It hurts seeing you like this.
“Fuck!” you turn around and start walking, thinking you can walk home from here knowing it’s impossible.
“Hey! Let me take you home”
You stop.
“Please, I won't stay. I’ll drop you off and go to my trailer- you can’t get home by yourself” he is right.
You don’t move. Too heartbroken to say everything else or even turn around to see him. You are ashamed, he can’t even look you in the eyes.
He sees you waiting for him and he asks you to follow him to his van.
The ride home is long and torturous. He didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but you don’t blame him. Who could fall for a mess like you?
You fall asleep in the passenger seat of his van, he opens the door carefully and carries you to your bed. He wants to change your clothes but he knows it is not okay, he does peek at your naked thighs before covering your body with the sheets.
His calloused fingers move the hair off your face “I like you too, peach” He murmurs, leaning in to kiss your forehead before leaving. You can’t hear him of course, he knows it damn well.
V. Deep fears that the world would divide us.
The last time you talked to Eddie was two weeks ago. He didn’t know how to talk to you since that night, he didn’t know what to tell you. It is now summer break, you are in your bed facing the ceiling and letting the air from your window hit your sweaty body.
You were so bored. Without Eddie it feels like the world just turned gray, you regret everything you said that night. He never should’ve known.
He is now in his trailer, maybe with Chrissy. Your brain starts to think of a hundred scenarios. They could be spending time at the local pool, going to starcourt and eating ice cream, trying on some new clothes, or playing at the arcade.
You miss him. Your whole body aches without him by your side. Your bed feels so empty.
Tears start rolling down your cheeks, you are all alone in this gigantic house. It doesn’t feel like home, not without him.
You can’t pick a book and read it to kill time because every book you own is about romance.
You can’t watch movies without Eddie’s sudden comments.
You can’t even watch fucking commercials without him.
So you just let yourself on your bed, waiting for the sheets to swallow you whole.
Night came by after a nap, it was time to close the windows to stop the mosquitoes. It was time to eat so you headed down to the kitchen, the leftovers seem to always keep you company.
You wish he came back. Knocking at your door and getting in. Kissing you.
It doesn’t happen. To you. But it can happen to him.
You take your keys in your hands and head down to the trailer park, it isn’t that late so you go by yourself. With your clammy hands tapping on the steering wheel and a feeling of uncertainty.
It takes you from ten to fifteen minutes to get there and you park your car close to Eddie’s trailer. You’ve given him a ride home before, you know where he lives.
As you get closer to his trailer you hear screams. The door of his trailer opens suddenly and makes you jump. A tall and slightly old man comes out of the trailer, his white tank top is covered with some blood.
No, no, no. You mumble under your breath and run to the trailer. You find Eddie with a cut on his lip, his eye is purple already and his nose is bleeding.
“Eddie?” you whisper, he panics.
“No, no you can’t be here” he gets up from the floor and places his hands on your arms, pushing you out.
“Why? Please I just want to talk”
“You can’t be here! He- if he does something to you I’m never going to forgive myself Please just leave” his breath quickens, and his chest rises up and down. He is nervous, he is scared. The feelings are contagious.
“Come with me, please. Eds-”
“Just fucking leave! please please please, leave right now”
Nothing you do is going to convince him you should stay, as much as you want to. You hear screams of an angry man getting close to the trailer.
Running out back to your car and driving home, the radio becomes an annoying background noise screeching. Your heart is beating so fast out of fear, and your hands are trembling.
You set yourself down on your bed once you get home. You are scared of what could happen to Eddie. You know he is in danger and you also know he doesn’t want to see you.
The tears come back, your eyes are blurry and the walls feel like they are closing in and are about to crush you. You cover yourself with the sheets, as some type of protection, just like when you were little and scared. Yes, you are scared now, so fucking scared. But there is nothing you can do now so you sleep, and you fall asleep crying, again.
VI. I'd kiss you as the lights went out.
The next day goes by quickly, it’s currently midnight and you are sitting in front of the tv watching a random documentary about dolphins. You’ve slept all day so sleep is not an option. A huge bucket of ice cream in your hands gives you a cold feeling of serenity.
A knock on the door makes you jump, the thing you’ve been waiting for.
You open it quickly, and Eddie is there. You look at him with sadness in your eyes, some of his wounds have healed since yesterday.
“Before you say anything… I am sorry, sweetheart” You don’t let him in, and he doesn’t take a step forward “I like you too. I like you so much. I tried to date Chrissy because I thought I could get my mind distracted by the fact that I'm crazy for you. "He licks his lips, he moves his hands in the air as he always does when he explains something or rambles about a thing he loves.
“I was scared to tell you, that night at the party I swear all I could think about was- fuck, I wanted to rip those clothes off of you and kiss every part of your body but I was fucking terrified” his chest rises up and down, his heart is bumping in his ribcage. “I didn’t want to say anything because
I didn’t want to lose you, You are too good to me and I didn’t want you to be with someone like me-”
“You don’t get to make that choice for me” you interrupt, your own heart is beating so fast it could burst.
“I know, I know. That’s why I'm here… is it too late to hang out? Look, I slept all day and some little bird named Steve told me the sunrise at Lovers Lake looks awesome and I really just want to be with you”
You look at him, he is standing at your door confessing his love to you and, weirdly, it doesn’t feel like a dream. It all feels too real, too peaceful.
“A date at midnight? Did you plan this because you look like you even showered”
He lets out a big laugh. You see those dimples you love so much.
“I- I wouldn’t see it as a date because I think we’ve had tons of them” he shakes his head, and his curls bounce with the movement. “Pretty please? Join me on this adventure”
“We must be connected by some kind of thread because I slept all day too” you chuckle, he laughs with you “Sure, I want to be with you. Let me change and I’ll be right back”
You head upstairs quickly as Eddie goes back to his van for something.
With the quickest movements in the world, you manage to get yourself some pretty clothes, a tiny bit of makeup and fix your hair.
Running to the first floor to meet Eddie, your legs stop working as he stands up in your living room with a bouquet.
“You did have this prepared” You are smiling so wide your cheeks start to hurt, but you can stop it. After days of missing him, he is now here and everything feels right.
“I did. You look- you look beautiful” he looks at you from the bottom to the top, taking every detail of your figure. “I mean, you always look so beautiful I just-”
You come closer to him, he hands you the bouquet and you take it.
“You are beautiful too, Eds”
Your fingers touch his cheeks, he feels the warmth and breathes in to take everything in. Your scent, your touch, the closeness. Your cheeks have a pink tint from blushing and it makes you look so pretty. He leans in and in a second, his lips are touching yours.
You gasp at the sudden feeling, your whole body electrifies. His hands come to rest on your lower back, keeping you close to him. Your hands travel to his shoulders as you stand on your tippy toes.
His lips trap your bottom lip, sucking in your taste. Your whole heart flutters as your head goes back to catch some air.
“I wanted to do that for so long”
Goosebumps travel from your arms to your lips, missing him already.
“Me too” you bite your lip.
“C’mon, let’s go watch the sunrise sweetheart”
VII. Deep blue but you painted me golden.
The trip to Lovers Lake in the middle of the night resulted in love confessions and a heavy make out session, Eddie packed the back of his van with christmas lights, sheets, and blankets along with some pillows.
You and Eddie sitting in front of each other, his lips crashing into yours as sweet as honey.
“So yeah- that time when you sat down and started tutoring me I fought so hard to pay attention but I just loved the sound of your voice” You take a sip of beer.
“It was hard to teach you when your confused face is just so adorable.
Every pout you gave me was a kiss I wanted to give you” Eddie laughs.
“You can give me all the kisses you want now, I'm all yours”
Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, his face glows pink and you let out a chuckle.
“Honey, I will” he takes a sip from his own beer, finishing it.
Alcohol makes both of you giddy, dozy, and dumb. Or maybe it’s just the love you have for each other.
“What time is it?” you murmur against his lips, his hands travel from your waist to the back of your head.
“I have- no idea” he stops, with his head leaned slightly back he watches you. Your lips are puffy and pink, his too. Both of you have a maroon tint on your cheeks. “It’s almost six, we have time” he peeks at the clock on his left hand.
“Alright, c’mere” With your hands placed on his shoulders, you try to get closer to him.
You kiss him. He is addicted to your taste already.
This time the kiss is messy and uncoordinated. His teeth collide with yours, saliva drops from the corner of your mouth.
With a firm hand caressing your back, Eddie helps you fall back with your body pressed against the sheets. Your head rests on a pillow as he gets comfortable on top of you.
You can feel the van getting hotter, a cloud of passion and love around you. Eddie makes a quick move with his knee as it presses against your hot core.
Absent-mindedly you start to grind against his knee, feeling the combination of friction with his sloppy kisses sending chills through your spine.
His lips now travel all the way to your neck, he presses sweet wet kisses against your skin.
“Eddie-” you whisper, letting the air out of your lungs. “I want you”
You have been dreaming about this, he has been dreaming about this.
This moment. This very golden moment is going to live in your head forever.
“Are you sure, sweetheart?” he murmurs against your collarbone, his lips tingling your skin.
“I’m sure, please”
He takes a break from the kisses, looking at your sweet face.
“Have you ever…?” he asks.
“No,” you bite your lip nervously.
“I’ll take care of you, I promise”
You nod, and he returns to kissing your neck. One of his hands travels to your thighs, he gives a slight massage on them making his way closer to the heat between your legs.
His cock gets hard against his pants as he feels the wet spot between your legs.
“You are so soaking wet, peach-”
With both hands, he takes off your panties, gently. He is so gentle with you.
“And so, so pretty”
Eddie starts to rub your clit with his thumb, his circular motions make your toes curl. It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before. With his mouth pressed against your jaw two of his fingers get inside you slowly, the pain of it quickly goes away and turns into lust. His fingers move in and out, making sure not to hurt you and make you feel good.
Your back curls and your thigh touches the bulge on his pants.
“Eds, please”
“What do you want, princess? Say it”
“I want you to fuck me”
Your voice makes his heart flutter. He leans in to kiss you more as he curls your fingers inside you.
“Oh god, Ed-Eddie” you mewl, your head too giddy to make up words.
“Good girl” his voice is now deeper, and his pupils dilate as his body perks up with electricity.
His fingers leave your pussy, you whine and he tells you not to worry.
He is gentle on taking your clothes off, smiling after admiring every inch of you. He wets his lips with his tongue admiring your figure.
“You are so fucking beautiful, princess”
“You too, baby”
The mood has clearly changed, you are still so horny and whining for each other. But Eddie has decided to take his time to make you feel like the princess you are.
Your hands help him take his clothes off, you admire his bare chest and your eyes focus on his tattoos. When he takes his pants and boxers off it is inevitable for you to take a look.
Your mouth waters at the sight. Eddie caresses your cheek and leaves small kisses on your lips as he goes inside you. You feel his hot cock
inside you, it twitches as you stretch and leave out a louder moan.
A grin shows up on Eddie’s face as he thrusts into you. Your nails scratch his back slightly. He feels his skin burn.
“Feeling good?”
“Yes, god yes”
He groans at the same time he increases the speed. Your moans get louder and he kisses your neck again, his bare chest meets yours and you whimper. He is moving on top of you, his cock inside you, and his chest rubs your nipples.
The tiny knot in your stomach untangles as chills go down your spine. You moan as your orgasm comes to you.
“You are such a good girl, go on cum for me”
His words are sweet, he keeps praising you as you finally come.
“So so good baby, I’m going to-”
He moves back but your hands are quick to tangle around his neck, not letting him leave.
“Do it, baby. Cum all over me”
Your encouraging words get into Eddie’s head, his thrust becomes sloppier as he relaxes and he comes into you as requested.
The hot sticky combination of cum slides down your legs as Eddie hugs you and pulls you to him to the side. His back is now pressed against the dirty sheets, your head falls in his chest.
He kisses your forehead and runs his hand through your back.
The sun starts to show up.
Eddie leans forward to open the back doors of his van, he comes back to his place next to you as quickly as possible and hugs you harder.
The lake glows with a yellow tint, the water now shows a baby blue color.
“I love you, sweetheart”
Surprised you turn your head to look at him, you give him a big smile.
“I love you too”
You stay there a couple of minutes, touching each other and loving each other.
there it is! my little baby. feedback is appreciated REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR! and DON’T throw a punch like it has been described!!!
tagging everyone who interacted, tysm 💕
@ali-r3n @witchwolflea @ghostlyfleur @littlegingerbat @live-love-be-unique @expiredcum21 @emma77645 @silent-stories @hellfirenacht @eddiemunson95 @tenthmoon
#leia writes ⊹ ꒱#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie munson x female oc#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x female reader smut#eddie munson x f!oc#eddie munson x best friend reader#eddie munson x female!reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x best friend
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Love in a Hopeless Place
Chapter 6
Hi lovelies! Please be warned that this is a heavier chapter that discusses trauma and depictions of violence! I'm sure I'm going overboard with the warnings, but I'm just wanting to make sure I cover all of my bases here! xoxo, Dany
Chapter 5|Chapter 6|Chapter 7|Updated through Chapter 12
Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader
Word Count: 5.3k
CW: Slowburn, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, cuddles, depression, anxiety, protective "not-boyfriend"
!Trigger Warning!: Physical violence, abuse, neglect, vague mentionings of underage sex work, drug use, torture, and drug dealing
The next couple of days seemed to creep by more slowly for the both of you, nothing drastic, just... slower, more... unpleasant. It could have been because of how good everything felt to be with each other, but at least for you, there had been another new factor.
You had still been seeing other clients while working for Lucifer, and sure, he took up the largest amount of time, but there were still others, some one offs and some regulars, and a handful of new clients. Most of them didn't give you much grief, but one of your newer clients had taken quite a shine to you, and wanted to see you more often. He was... ok...ish... not really. He was a little selfish, which was fine, but he also had an aggressive personality, and not the fun kind. He had not done anything "bad" to you yet, but he toed the line and that made you nervous.
This had not been as much of an issue until someone tipped him off that you did house calls it was Cynthhhhia, and in the last two days he had asked for you to go to his place, and he seemed to push the boundaries more outside of the brothel. Larry had always told you that if anyone made you ladies uncomfortable, that you could put them on your "No Kiss List", basically being banned from being scheduled with you, and depending on the intensity of the issue they could also get banned from the Lounge entirely.
Again, at this point, this newer guy, Jethro, had not done anything yet, so you still felt like you could handle him, but he was still a cause for some stress. The night of your next visit with Lucifer was a welcome one. When you got too Lucifer's, you pulled him into a tight embrace. He welcomed your hug, but noticed that it felt a little different, a little heavier than usual.
"Well hello to you too! Haha! Hey, you doing ok?" he said, looking at you with soft concern as your released him from your embrace.
"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" you smiled, trying to hide your stress from the day.
"Oh nothing, you just uh... felt a little tense is all," he said sheepishly.
"Oh! Haha, ya it's nothing. Just a long day. Lots of clients, lots of... you know," you said trailing off.
"Of course! Haha, how silly of me! Do you, uh... need a minute? Do you want to, like, take a bath or shower or something?" he asked, "By yourself of course! I'm sure a minute to yourself would be nice. Plus, I still need to finish up with dinner," he added nervously, he felt his checks tint pink.
You chuckled, you thought it was funny when Lucifer would overthink his statements and felt like he needed to clarify something.
"That sounds nice, I might just take you up on that," you smile.
"Great!" he smiled, "Chose any bathroom you like, dinner should be ready in like 30 minutes."
The two of you part ways as you headed to one of the close-by guest bathrooms and Lucifer headed back to the kitchen. Lucifer had some updates that he had wanted to tell you about from Charlie's meeting with Heaven, but he figured that could wait a little longer. Plus, he was now preoccupied by his own dumb comment.
'"You want to take a bath or shower or something? By yourself, of course!" no duh, you idiot! She understood that's what you meant, why did you felt like you needed to clarify that?! Why do you gotta be so weird sometimes?!' he scolded himself as he made his way to the kitchen. Lucifer definitely had people that would cook for him, but he liked that it gave him something to do sometimes while he waited for you to get there in the evenings.
Meanwhile, you drew yourself a bath and slipped into it. You examined the bruises on your legs and chest from where your earlier guest had bitten and grabbed you. You were normally all for kinks like these, but these feel more forceful, and therefore made you upset to look at. You hid your legs under the water and just floated in the big tub for a while.
You smiled to yourself again as you thought of Lucifer stumbling over himself 'You want to take a bath or shower or something? By yourself, course!' followed by that little nervous smile. It was cute, and it was funny that he kept forgetting that he could just request that if he wanted to. You wouldn't have minded, you honestly would have liked it. He would be so warm and soft, snuggling into your chest in the warm water. You realized you had only ever seen him down to a barely opened shirt, while he has seen you down to your lingerie, for a fleeting minute.
How odd it was, that he had been one of your longest running and most consistent clients and yet, you too had not been sexually intimate at all. It was nice, but also... a little disappointing? Why was that disappointing? Why did you care? And why did you actually like the thought of bathing with him?
Your thought process was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Uhh... occupied?" you said.
"There you are!" you could hear Lucifer through the door. "Jesus Christ, darling why do I have so many bathrooms?"
You shrugged, "Uhh.. cuz you're rich and its funny?"
"Hmm... That is true..." Lucifer chuckled on the other side of the door, "Anyways, dinner is ready whenever you are!"
"Ok!" you called out, and you started to get ready. As Lucifer walked away, he paused for a moment, thinking about how you were naked on the other side of the door.
He shook his head and kept walking, "Dude, stop it," he said quietly to himself.
A few minutes later, you were out, a toweling off your hair, back in your earlier clothes.
"How are you feeling?" said Lucifer as you entered the room.
"Much better, thank you," you said with a smile.
You and Lucifer sat down to eat, and Lucifer was finally able to tell you about the whole ordeal of setting up the Heaven with meeting the exhausting bureaucracy and drama of it all, and then... the aftermath of Charlie's meeting. Charlie had gone up with Vaggie, met with a bunch of the angels and seraphim, including Adam, the first man and leader of the yearly exterminations, and his right hand exorcist, Lute, and... it did not go well. Charlie had gotten them to start actually start thinking about the whole issue, then Adam dropped the whole "extermination" thing on the counsel, and most of the angels in the room knew nothing about the extermination of souls in hell! Consider the tea, spilled. Then on top of that, the council said their was not proof sinners could be redeemed, and Adam basically declared war on the Hotel.
Well, this was very stressful, but in a way that made you care more and made you forget about your worries from earlier in the day. You thought about Lucifer, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel... everyone at the hotel... You were wondering how they were feeling, how they were going to get out of this. So much for your idea about moving into the hotel. You chuckled to yourself.
"What is it?" Lucifer asked.
"Oh... it's stupid," you say with a wave of your hand, Lucifer gives you a look. You sigh, "Just... puts a little damper on my daydream to try out the hotel."
Lucifer cocked his head to the side, "You were thinking about moving to the hotel?"
You sat back and shrugged, "It was... a passing thought. Nothing serious. I realize that probably would have made things complicated, it's probably just easier this way."
Lucifer studied your face, "Maybe after the next extermination, see what happens. I just don't want you to get caught up in all of that right now."
"Ya," you say, staring off. Your worries returning back to thoughts of Charlie and the others.
Lucifer read the concern on your face, and placed a hand over yours. You looked up to meet his soft smile.
"It's gonna be ok..." he said with hesitation. "I don't exactly know how it is going to be ok, I would be lying if I said it wasn't nervous... but I trust my daughter... and her friends seem to be good people... outside of Alastor," his glared off to the side at the mentioning of the Radio Demon.
He was right, maybe not all hope was lost, maybe Charlie would figure out something. You smile at the face he made, then looked down at his hand on top of yours. Your face shifted in thought in response to something he had just said, "her friends seem to be good people..." Did he really believe that? Did that visit really change his mind that much? That's not what he had made it sound like the other day. You had forgotten about that comment, and now the reminder left you with a bitter taste.
Lucifer looked over and caught your expression, "What's on your mind?"
You look at him sideways, "Do you really believe that? That her friends are good people?"
"Well... as far as I have seen, why do you say that?" he said with worried confusion.
You look up at him, "I just thought that sinners were all violent psychopaths, hell-bent on causing as much pain a destruction as they can."
Lucifer froze, shit did he really say that the other day to his daughter, in front of you and all of Charlie's friends? Yeesh.
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "Jeez, I really did say that didn't I?" You gave him a slow judgmental nod. He sighed, "I... I was wrong, I shouldn't have said that... I'm sorry... I realized that I have never really taken the opportunity to actually get to know many sinners, and I've passed a lot of judgement on them the last... 10,000 years. They are not like that... you, are definitely not like that... Honestly, meeting you has made me really confused on the matter of how they decide who ends up here entirely."
Your slight distain turned you curiosity, and you raised an eyebrow, "How so?"
Lucifer took a minute to try and find the words, "Uhh, well... fuck, ok... I guess I just don't understand why you are in hell in the first place. The way you treat people puts people I used to know in Heaven to shame."
You blow a puff of air out your nose in a laugh, "Maybe the way I treat you and hotel people, I'm not like this with everyone, you know?"
"Well ya... but still..." Lucifer held back his next question a moment, he didn't want to say anything to upset you. "Can I ask... um... how you ended up here?"
You prop your head up on your hand and thought, being alive felt so long ago. Lucifer waited nervously for you to answer, but he was pretty sure you didn't look mad at the question.
"You really wanna know?"
He nodded.
"Well... I was the oldest child of drug addict parents, who had no right having any kids, spent much of my life fending for myself and my siblings, my parents would not stop having fucking kids and I was basically the only parent for them. I had to do... whatever I could for them, steal from neighbors, stores, random people's cars, anything to get food and money for my siblings. When I was older, my grandmother got custody of us and it got a lot better, but we struggled a lot mentally and it was hard to shake the old habits. She had to knock some sense into me to stop stealing, but I could never get past the idea of needing to be the parent of the house. I didn't go to school until end of middle school, and when I started it was hard, I skipped school, never finished an education. I wanted to... but I was way too far behind by that point, and with so many kids, grandma couldn't get all of us caught up. I encouraged her to focus on the younger ones. I tried getting a normal job, but I ended up meeting shitty people and I get ended up selling drugs and my body to get by. It wasn't great but it made me money. I had bad and sub-par relationships, nothing great. During my last relationship, I was actually starting to learn about boundaries and shit, feeling like it might actually go somewhere... and then I was killed during a bad drug deal," you looked back at Lucifer casually as you finished your story.
Lucifer looked at you with so much heartbreak in his eyes. No pity, no belittlement, no tears, just sadness. "How are you still so full of kindness then? After all of that?"
You smiled, "Partly cuz I can act, but mostly because... everything stupid, reckless, or "sinful" I ever did... it was for my siblings. I always thought that I would damn myself to hell so that they didn't have to." You shook your head, "I sure did damn myself to hell, but... I don't know how successful I was, my siblings always seemed mad or annoyed with me... but... I just loved them all so much."
Lucifer stood up and wrapped his arms around you as you remained sitting, your head at his chest level. You were taken by surprise, but hugged him back, "What's this for?"
He released you slightly from his hug, and held your face in his hands. "If you gave your siblings even an ounce of the care you have shown me, I know you were successful, and I know they will never forget the sacrifices you made for them."
Your eyes go wide, 'Could it... could it be? Could he be right? Could you have saved them? Saved them from the same pain you endured? Could your actions have changed the course of their lives? Could you have saved them from a fate in hell?' Tears started to form in your eyes. 'No. No. No no no no no. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, no crying in front of Lucifer.' You rip your face away from Lucifer's hands and wipe your face before the tears fall.
Lucifer ached to see you tear yourself away and wipe your tears. Until this moment, he had never realized how much of a wall you had up, how much you protected yourself, how much space you gave to him and how little you gave for yourself. He knew the dynamics were weird, this not being a normal friendship and all. Those dynamics were starting to make him so frustrated, he just wanted to hold you every night and tell you how much he cared about you... but things were way too messy now. He had no idea how to untangle this, and emotionally vulnerable conversations did not seem like the best idea right now with everything going on.
"Sorry," you say as you finish wiping your tears, "Thank you, really, I mean it. I'm just... not used to that."
Lucifer smiled, "Well... I hope this can be a good... beginning to that..."
'Nice job Lucifer, fucking nailed it, idiot.' he thought you himself.
You laugh, he laughed with you. Alright, enough of that, time for some tv and snuggles. You also remembered another question you had for Lucifer from you day at the hotel. You asked Lucifer about how he could teleport, and asked if the driver was necessary or if he could just pick you up from your apartment for your evenings together. He didn't know why he hadn't thought about that before, he had been worried about people following the car back to his place, or bothering you, and that would make him feel better. Plus, it would be cool to see your place. You guys made a plan for him to just teleport in to grab you in the future.
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The next couple of weeks were a weird mixture of fun and stressful, Lucifer started teleporting in to get you right at your set meeting time and he got to see your place. It was... small, really small, and there wasn't much to it. He made a comment oh how "minimalist" it was, but you just said you didn't need a lot, you weren't used to much, which wasn't completely a lie, but you didn't want to worry him with images of the other girls trying to break into your room.
Outside of that, Lucifer had the added stressors of worrying about Charlie, the hotel, and the upcoming extermination/war with Adam. You would go a visit the hotel crew with him often, but it only seemed to ease his mind while he was there. He started to complain again about struggling a little with sleep, he would fall asleep fine, especially with you there, but he started having nightmares that would wake him up in the middle of the night and would make it hard for him to fall back asleep. You were frustrated that you did not know how to help him with that, but you also knew he could take care of himself. You couldn't fix all of his problems.
You on the other hand... had reached a boiling point with Jethro. He continued to ignoring safe words, become more controlling, manipulative, and aggressive, until one day you had enough. You stopped the scene you were in and told him that he would not stand for his behavior anymore. Jethro did not like this, and you left his house with a black eye, as well as several other bruises across your body, may be even a sprain. You ran back to the Lounge as quickly as you could, trying desperately not to cry in public.
You got into the Lounge and ran up to your room to hide. Luckily, one of the girls you were closer to saw you, and told Larry. Larry texted you, asking what happened and if he could come up to talk to you. You agreed. Larry came up to your room, you opened the door for him to see you in tears, covered in bruises, trying to ice your eye. You told Larry what happened, and he told you he was putting Jethro on your "No Kiss List", banning him from the Lounge, and that he would handle Jethro if he tried coming back in.
You thanked him, he patted your shoulder, and asked if you wanted you clients canceled for the rest of the day. You asked who was left for the day, and the only one left was "Lance". You shook your head, just asking that no walk-ins get scheduled with you between then and now so that you could be ready by "Lance's" appointment. Larry agreed, and left you to your wounds. You had no idea how you were going to pull your yourself together and hide this all from Lucifer by tonight, but you had to try.
You went into the bathroom, ran a bath, played some music, and cried, partly from the pain, partly from fear. You were so in your head from the experience, that you did not do as well keeping track of time. Before long, Lucifer teleported into your room. Lucifer was a little shocked to not see you in your room, but then he heard the music from the bathroom. Oh ok, you must have been just running a little late.
He want to go knock on the door so that he knew you were there and didn't surprise you, but then he heard something else from the bathroom that made him stop. Was that... crying? Was that part of the music or was that you? He waited, the song changed, and the crying continued. That was definitely you. He finally knocked.
You were startled by the sound of the knock, "Uhhh... occupied?"
"It's me darling, I hope I didn't startle you," you heard Lucifer's voice through the door. You picked up your phone and looked at the time. Shit! You quickly got out of the tub.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, uhh... I must have lot track of time. Busy day. Lots of clients. Uhh... I'll be out in a minute!" you say has you hurried to get dressed. Luckily, you had already brought your clothes into the bathroom with you, so Lucifer wouldn't have to see all of the bruises.
"No rush! You take as much time as you need," Lucifer called back, then he went to go take a seat on your couch.
His words made you feel a little better, but you did not want to keep him waiting any longer than you already had. You quickly did what you could to put on makeup to cover up the big bruise around your eye, you could cover the coloring just fine, it was the swelling you were worried about. It had gone down a little, but it might still be noticeable.
Part of you wishes you had canceled on him, but that would have made you sad more than anything else, and it probably would have worried him. That is if he actually cared about you. Errrr... stop that. Lucifer is not like Jethro or the others, he actually does care, at least... to some amount. You just did not want anyone to see you like this, but especially him.
Eventually you finished your makeup and looked at yourself, it would have to be good enough for today. You painted your best sweet smile on your face, and walked out the door.
"All done! Ready to go?" you said cheerful.
"Yup!" Lucifer said, trying to match your cheerful tone, but he was worried. Why had you been crying? Why were you now trying to hide it? Why were you wearing so much make up today? He hadn't seen you wear this much make up since the first few appointments you guys had. He remembered that Charlie once said girls sometimes wear more make up when they were sad because "If you look better, you feel better", so he didn't comment. He just smiled, wrapped an arm around you, and teleported you both back to his place.
You were already more relieved to be back at his place, the stress of the day still held tightly to you, but it was better here. You swung your arms around Lucifer, enveloping him in a hug. Lucifer held you back tightly, softly but firmly. He was so comforting and soft, you wanted to live in that embrace.
He didn't know what was making you so sad that day, but he wanted to do everything to make you feel better. He had your favorite dinner and dessert made, grabbed you your favorite blanket for when you guys would cuddle on the couch and watch tv later, and he was going to find that tv last that you said you used to like to watch sometimes when you were alive, "The Office."
At one point, during desert, Lucifer looked over at you and saw a strand of hair flop down front of your face. He reached over to tuck it behind your ear, but because of the angle, you didn't see his hand until it was almost near your swollen eye. You flinched and practically jumped out of your chair, shouting "No!" and covering you eye with you hand, the other was wide with panic.
Lucifer flinched his hand back, and stayed still. What was that about? You had never reacted like that before.
"Darling, is everything alright? I didn't mean to startle you," he said softly, worry painting his face.
You realize you had misunderstood what he had been trying to do and panicked, 'Shit! Shit, shit, shit!' You couldn't tell what was the greater emotion in that moment, the shame of reacting to Lucifer, or the fact that the emotions from earlier where about to bubble up again. 'Do I try to push it down? Do I run for the bathroom? Shit. There is no hiding it, is there? He is going to find out about it now.'
You start to sit back down, still covering your eye, "I, uhh... I'm sorry... I don't... I didn't mean to yell at you like-"
"(y/n)" Lucifer said firmly, you look at him with your uncovered eye, tears starting to fill up the edge of your vision, "Please. Please tell me what's wrong. Why are you covering your eye? What made you jump so hard?"
You start to breathe heavily, "Are you sure you want to know?" you say with tears in your voice.
"Yes, my darling, I do. More than anything," Lucifer said, standing up slowly to come closer to you.
You look down, breathe, and lower you hand. Now that he was looking right at your eye, he could see how swollen it was under all of the make up.
"Is that... a black eye?" he said panicked. You nodded. He started to put some context clues together.
"Someone did this to you?" he asked, a little more sternness in his voice. You nodded again, the tears were starting to fall. "Someone from the Lounge?"
You nodded, "A client," you whispered.
"Did he do anything else?" he asked, trying to hold back the growing anger in his voice. You nodded. "Can you show me?" You froze, looking down, more tears falling, "Please don't be mad at me, I didn't want you to know, this shouldn't be something you worry about-"
"Darling," he says cutting you off again, "I am not mad at you, I am however mad at the sick fuck that did this to you. And I will worry about you, because I want to. Do you understand me?" You were not used to hearing him talk like this, it was scary, but in a comforting way. His words were growing in anger, but you understood it was not at you, it was for you.
You look up at him to see that his eyes had changed color, basically inverted, black slitted pupils now surrounded by golden irises and deep blood red sclera. They were terrifying and beautiful at the same time. You nodded, finally answering his question, and you started to take off your sweater. Lucifer saw your arms and torso littered with different sizes of bruises and deep bite marks. At the sight of them, horns grew out from his temples and a tail lashed out from his back. Again, he looked scarier, but for some reason, you were not afraid. You actually felt... safe? You had never seen someone so mad for you before.
Lucifer gently and slowly reached out for your arm, trying to make sure not to scare you further. "Is it like this on your legs too?" You nodded. You were about to ask if he needed to see them, when he pulled you into a tight hug. You were confused, but welcomed it. His hugs were always nice but this one felt, even better? All of your bruises and bites started to feel, lighter, and then the pain was gone. Lucifer released from your hug, and you looked down to see all of your marks were gone.
'He could heal too?! Fuck, is there anything he can't do?'
"Better?" he asked. You nodded. "Good, now. I'm gonna need a name and location. Now." he paused, "please."
You hesitated, you weren't supposed to tell anyone who you had been meeting with. But... he had not specifically asked for digression, and he was banned from the Lounge, and it would probably save Larry and the girls some trouble, and... fuck it, it was hell! Who cared!
"What are you going to do to him?" you asked. He smirked with a wicked smile, carefully reached out to softly hold your chin, and with a demonic resonance to his voice, he whispered, "Why darling, I'm going to make him suffer in a way that this realm has not tortured and tormented a soul in EONS, I am going to rip him his own dimension of time and space where he will be able to experience his body being ripped apart, piece by piece, and put back together, over and over again, for the rest of eternity."
You had no idea how to picture that and you didn't care... it was terrifying, but Lucifer's power was fucking HOT.
"Uhh... Jethro Hanson. Big house out in Pentagram city, near the inner city, very bright red, can't miss it," you spit out. He smiles, unfurls his six, big, beautiful wings from his back, gives you a soft kiss on the hand and says, "I'll be right back," before opening a portal above him and flying into it. It closes behind you and leaves you alone, in the dining room.
Your heart was racing, there were too many feelings swirling inside your mind, joy, sadness, rage, fear... lust. God, his full demon form was hot, what the hell? After a few minutes, the adrenaline wore off, and you found yourself on the couch starting to cry again, but this time... it felt GOOD. These tears were cathartic like nothing you had ever felt before, a hard, powerful cry.
After about 15-20 minutes, Lucifer reappeared, the same as he looked when he had left, just wiping his hands on themself after a job well done, as you would after a job well done. Lucifer heard your cries and ran to you, getting in his knees in front of you on the couch and cocooning you in his wings.
"Darling, what's the matter? I'm so sorry, did I scare you?" he said with words full of worry.
You shook your head, smiling and pressing your forehead to his, "No. Not at all. I'm just... I'm good. Really. I'm just not used to... feeling cared about, and... protected..." You choke out, before continuing to sob.
'Shit, shit, ok, what do I do?' he thought to himself. Then he remembered. He retracted his horns and tail, set his eyes back to their normal color, picked you up, laid down on the couch, and positioned you to lay on top of him, your head on his chest, wings wrapped around you. As you laid there, he rubbed your back as you continued to cry. "And as long as I am here, you will never have to know life without that, ever again," he said softly, so softly that you couldn't make it out over the sound of your own sobs.
Slowly, your tears started get get quieter, and your breathing started to slow. As Lucifer laid there with you on his chest, he started to card his fingers through you hair. What a dream you were to him, he had be so cared for by you, and now he was able to give that care back to you. That was honestly all he had wanted, was to have someone to be cared by and for. To have... someone to love.
Love?
Love.
'Oh my god... do I love her?' he thought at he looked down at your soft face. Studying the features of your face as you laid on his chest with this new idea, everything suddenly made sense. The nervousness, the desire for closeness, the way you lit up his world, the way your smile would wash his cares away.
He loved you.
That was about to make everything wayyyy more complicated.
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Wide Awake
Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Wolff!Reader
Warnings: Cursing, Self-Doubt, age-gap (reader is 22), slight smut (just fingering) , oh and slight orgasm denial.
(SOFIA IS A RANDOM GIRL I MADE UP!)
A/N: This was supposed to just be a one off thing but I kept writing and writing and I'm 99% sure that no one wants to read a 25k worded chapter only for it to BARELY get to the whole point/plot of the fic. so there's going to be another chapter (3 at max)
(Also I promise Too Good To Say Goodbye 7 is coming but I was hyper fixated on trying to finish this which isn't happening ) 🫶🏽😊
Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!
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My dad’s always warned me about getting involved with the drivers. He told me that they’re all too young, naive and that all they’ll be good for is breaking my heart. For the longest time, I believed him. I’ve seen the way some of these young drivers were with girls.
Max cheating on Sofia with Kelly, Lando talking to 3 girls at once and George, well George hasn’t done anything. Point is, I’ve seen how they are and I don’t want to get with one of the young drivers only to have my heart ripped out. AGAIN.
I secretly dated one of the hottest drivers, Charles Leclerc for about 2 months. All was going well we were happy, we had secret dates and maybe I thought he was the one.
That was until one day In Monaco when I showed up to the paddock for Free Practice 1 & 2 I saw him hand-in-hand with Alexandra Saint Mleux. When I saw them together and I realized everything she had that I didn’t. She was at taller than me, skinnier, gorgeous, had flawless skin and had a modeling career. In other words, she was a goddess.
Seeing them together broke my heart and all I wanted to do was curl into a ball and sob, but I couldn’t. My dad warned me about the young drivers but I still went behind his back and did the exact opposite of what he told me not to do. I deserved this.
I had made a beeline for the Mercedes garage just to get out of the public eye but I was so focused on getting as far away from Charles and Alexandra as possible that I hadn’t noticed I was running straight into someone.
I hit this person's body with such force I almost went flying back and I reached my hands out in front of me to try and grab anything for stability and at the same time I felt two hands on either sides of my waist trying to balance me.
I was feeling so many different emotions right now I couldn't even think straight, clearly. I was so angry at Charles for cheating on me even if weren’t technically even dating, sadness because I actually thought Charles was actually capable of loving me, and full fledged embarrassment because I just ran full on into someone thinking about how Charles just ruined my life. And my makeup.
I looked up to face the person I just ran into and tried to profusely apologize for my actions, but when I looked up tho I was met with the most gorgeous brown eyes I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I wanted to stare into his eyes forever but in the half a second it took me to look up I also realized who it was that I ran into.
The 7x WDC Lewis Hamilton.
Even more embarrassment coated my face as I realized that not only did I just bump into someone while trying so hard not to have a mental breakdown but I ran into the Lewis Hamilton, my dad's best and most loved driver. “Oh my gosh Lewis, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going and I really didn’t mean to run into you. Please don’t tell my dad” Honestly, it sounded pathetic. ‘Don’t tell my dad’? what are you, 12?
I stared at him in silence for about all of 2 seconds which felt like an eternity until I saw his lips curled up into a smile and heard a small chuckle come from him. “I won’t tell your dad, cross my heart” Lewis said while making an ‘X’ motion over his chest “Who are you running from? I feel like maybe I'm obligated to know since you ran right into me trying to avoid them?”
My face fell in shock. How did he know I was trying to avoid someone? I mean it wasn't rocket science, if I saw a random girl running to an isolated area with tears streaming down her face, I too am going to assume she's avoiding someone. “I- Uh, Well. See”
“It’s okay, Y/N/N, I’m not going to tell anyone. You also don’t have to tell me if you don't want to but I’m willing to help you avoid them if you do.” Lewis said as he placed a hand on my cheek.
I’ve always found comfort in Lewis’ touch. Actually, I’ve always felt comfort whenever I was in the same room as Lewis. Something about his Aura screamed ‘You’re safe with me’
As much as I wanted to, I knew there was no point in lying because one thing about Lewis is that could read people like a book. Including me. With a long, loud and dramatic dragged out sigh I reluctantly told him the truth.
“I was seeing Charles behind my father’s back for about 2 months, everything was going well and I actually kinda thought he was my person but I just now saw him hand-in-hand and all cuddly with Alexandra.” Tears sprung in my eyes and threatened to fall as I recounted what I saw a few minutes prior to Lewis.
He had a sympathetic look in his face and I could tell he genuinely felt bad for me. The hand Lewis once briefly had on my face had moved down to grab my hand before he whispered, "How about this: Tomorrow we wear almost matching outfits and we come back here also hand-in-hand. We'd be together all day and we'll be cuddly too. You know, just to make Charles jealous and regret cheating on you."
Lewis was always putting people's well-being ahead of his and it made a shy smile creep onto my face. As much as I want to, maybe I shouldn't read too much into this though, he's probably just being nice to me to stay in my father's good graces.
"Lewis," I whispered as I placed my hand on his cheek "You don't have to be nice to me because I'm your boss's daughter"
he looked a bit hurt by my accusations. "Is that why you think I'm doing this?" his hand squeezed mine a little tighter.
"Why else would you, Lewis?" his hands came up to cup my face forcing me to look at him.
"Because Y/N/N, I-" he paused, almost like he was trying to find the right words to use. "I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world. I've seen you sneaking around with Charles and it took so much in me not to go over there and tear you away from him, to show him that you're mine. I know I'm older than you but I'm wiser and I'll treat you better than he can." My jaw dropped, there's no way that Lewis Hamilton, a 7x WDC is head over heels in love with me, right?
"Lew, I-" a voice interrupted me, turning my body into stone and my blood into ice.
"Y/N!" I knew that voice anywhere and if he saw the moment that me and Lewis just shared, we were both dead.
"Dad! Hi!" I tried to sound enthusiastic but I was so flushed from Lewis' confession.
"My baby," His hands cupped my face inspecting the red all over "Are you okay?"
"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I'm just hot. You know how the sun is in Monaco." I said with a shrug, trying to change the subject
"Oh you have to go in the AC! Lewis," my dad turned to face Lewis who was already facing in our direction
"Yes, Toto?" he said as he cocked his brow.
"I need you to take my darling girl inside. She has a condition where she can't sweat which causes her to overheat and pass out. I am too busy with this race and getting everything perfect to be worrying about my daughter having a heat stroke."
"Oh, jeez, thanks dad. Just send Lewis to do everything for you" I said in a playful tone
"Of course Toto, I'll take her in right now." Lewis said as he walked over to me and linked his arms with mine.
Lewis started guiding me through the garage and to his driver's room where he opened the door and gestured me in. Once inside he closed the door before facing me with unsure eyes.
"What's wrong Lew?" I said as I cautiously walked over to him.
"What were you going to say before Toto cut you off?" his voice so low, I almost didn't hear what he said.
"I was going to say," I stopped right in front of him, our chests were touching. We were so close I could feel his breath against my skin. "I think that you have to prove what you said about treating me better than how Charles did."
Lewis grabbed my face and pulled me into a searing kiss, our tongues fought for dominance but his won. Lewis picked me up and sat on his couch with me on his lap so I was straddling him all without breaking the kiss.
His hands found their rightful place on my hips and applied pressure forcing my hips down as I rocked my hips to apply more force against his hardening cock.
"Mmm, you taste so good. I can only imagine how much better you taste when I'm eating your pussy." Lewis mumbled against my lips as his hands went just a little bit lower to stop at the elastic of my leggings. I guided Lewis' hands under the fabric to release some of the tension building in my core.
He understood what I needed and quickly started to run his middle finger up and down my fold, collecting all my juices before inserting it in my pussy. Lewis slowly moved his finger in and out of my hole while using his thumb to rub circles on my clit. His movements were slow and sensual bringing me closer and closer to my orgasm. I started rocking my hips into his palm to add more friction to my core and to chase my orgasm which I really needed right now. I was just about to go over the edge until a knock at the door quickly halted both of our movements and caused Lewis to yank his hand out of me leaving me without finishing.
"Mate, FP2 starts in 15. They need us by our cars now" The voice of George could be heard from he other side of the door.
“Oh fuck me” I grunted as I pulled myself off of Lewis’ lap
“Trust me, I was planning on it” He said with a smirk on his face as his hand came to rest on my ass before giving it a smack.
Lewis poked his head out of the door to make sure no one would see us leave, after the all clear we quickly rushed out of his room, both of us going in opposite directions as to not get caught.
————
The next day I heard a knock at my hotel door at the early hours of 6:00am. With a grunt I pulled myself out of the comfort of my warm and cozy bed and made my way to the door. Whoever was interrupting my beauty sleep was going to get a mouthful, I’ll tell you that.
“Do you know what time it is?!” I whisper yelled as I opened the door, not even bothering to look through the peephole to see who I would be yelling at. And boy do I really wish I did look because I was met with the tall, beautiful, muscular frame of Lewis Hamilton.
“Woah honey, I told you we were going to the paddock together. We need matching outfits” Lewis said while looking at me up and down "Do you by any chance have a matching Tommy Hilfiger set?"
"No?" I said, a little nervous
"Perfect, I bought you one that matches mine so put this on" Lewis said as he handed me a bag of 4 different sets.
"Lewis, there's four sets in here. Which am I wearing?" I said I let him in my room and watched as he took a seat on my bed right were I was once peacefully sleeping.
"Wear whichever one you want and I'll match it. I didn't know which of those four you'd like so I bought them all." My heart fluttered a bit at his confession.
--------
When Lewis and I pulled up to the race and got out of the car, we walked to the entrance hand-in-hand.
Charles and Alexandra were the first people to spot us and I took notice on how Charles dropped Alexandra's hand. When I saw that I squeezed Lewis' hand and leaned into him to tell him
"Lew, it's working. He dropped Alexandra's hand" I said with a smirk on my face.
"Wanna give them a show?" I cocked my brow at what he was suggesting but reluctantly nodded my head.
Without thinking twice, Lewis pulled me into a kiss, his hand finding their place to rest on my ass while mine traveled to the back of his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss.
I heard a strings of words which I'm assuming were curse words before I heard faint shuffles of feet echoing away from where me and Lewis were stood. Faint footsteps weren't the only thing we heard because next thing you know we heard clicks of camera shutters.
I pulled away from him with a horrified look on my face.
"Lewis! My dad might see those!" I don't think I was ever more scared in my life than I was in that moment. My dad can't know that I'm sneaking behind his back with Lewis. Well technically this is the second day of this 'sneaking around' but still, he doesn't know."
"Do you want to be with me Y/N/N?" He said dead serious while interlocking our hands
"Yes"
"So you shouldn't care about the pictures and your dad's opinion. Not everyone is going to accept our relationship but that doesn't matter because this relationship is between us. Not them"
"I need FP3 and Qualifying to end ASAP because I so badly want to suck your cock."
“I’m holding you to that” Lewis said as he swatted my ass. Surely the press people got photos of that and when those get out. I’m gonna have a fun conversation with my dad
It took us about 15 minutes to get the Mercedes Hospitality area because of all the fans asking for pictures, Press asking questions and other drivers asking what Lewis thinks he’s doing going out with me.
I almost took offense to that but quickly realized that they didn’t mean it in a rude way but more as a ‘you better be careful because if you break her heart, Toto will never resign you to Mercedes’ type of way.
When we entered, we were met with the angry eyes of my father.
“Lewis.” He said stern, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose “what are you doing with my daughter?!”
“Sir,” Lewis started but my dad cut him off
“Y/N/N, I told you not to go off with the drivers!” His voice raised, not too loud to be classified as yelling but a couple octaves louder than how it was before
“Actually, you said no messing around with the younger drivers. Lewis is older and more wise” I said as I grasped Lewis’ hand tighter.
“What are your intentions with my daughter?”
“Well sir, I intend to give your daughter the best life I can give her, I want to take her everywhere with me, I want to spoil her, I want to have her move in with me, I want to be her husband and I want her to be the mother of my kids.” Lewis squeezed my hand as he said that last sentence.
I never thought about being a mother, I never felt like it was an obligation of mine. I never thought that I wanted kids but hearing Lewis admit to my dad that he wanted me to be the mother of his kids sparked something in me. Lewis made me realize that deep down, I longed to be a mom and now I wasn’t going to be happy if I wasn’t.
“I will kill you if you break her heart.” My dad stated as he stared in Lewis’ eyes as if to try and intimidate him.
—————
It's not the best but I promise the plot is to die for!
taglist:
@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti@dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy
#charles leclerc#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#lando norris#lewis hamilton#lewis44hamilton#lewis hamilton smut#sir lewis hamilton#toto wolff#george russell#f1 racing#mercedes formula one#mercedes#logan sargent fluff#lando norris smut#lando norris imagine#f1 imagine#f1 fic#oscar piastri#max verstappen#formula racing#zak brown#formula 2#team radio
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Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update
Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk
✮ — Part 2 + rewrite
Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!
It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao
Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)
ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!
✮ — December will be for
planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.
Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions
I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!
work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!
And also take a small breather because I am moving!
✮ — Patreon
I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3
✮ —
My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!
That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!
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Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 8
Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.
Author’s note: this is ridiculous and incredibly self-indulgent but I don’t care I had so much fun writing this. This is the iconic karaoke chapter and I’m so excited 😌
(Masterlist)
Azriel drove the two of you through town, his motorcycle moving through traffic with ease. Your hold on him continues until he eventually pulls into a parking lot, stopping right in front of a small restaurant nestled beside an Insomnia Cookies store. You were quite impressed with how well you handled the ride - you had kept your gasps and nerves to a minimum.
Until you realized you had to get off the bike.
“Uhhh,” you say, looking at the ground as if the two or three feet away from the asphalt was a ravine.
He chuckles, sensing your hesitation.
“Hold onto my shoulders and just slide off.”
You breathe deeply, preparing yourself for the worst case scenario - either falling off the bike or death. You’re not entirely sure which is preferable.
You follow Azriel’s advice, your hands bracing your weight on his shoulders, sliding off with relative ease. You put your hands up in the air, jumping around at how proud you are of not dying. Azriel just chuckles, shaking his head as he mounts the bike, helping you pull off your helmet.
You two go in, and you look around to see only a one other couple at a table, eating what can only be described as the most delectable smelling sandwiches you’ve ever encountered. You spend a moment looking at the massive menu trying to figure out what sandwich you want. Azriel waits on you, and when you nod to him that you’re ready, he steps forward to the counter.
“Can I get a 12 inch triple meat and a 12 inch meatball sub, and whatever she’s having,” he says, motioning for you to tell him what you want.
You’re a bit surprised, and you desperately want to crack a joke about a 12 inch triple meat, but you bite your tongue, asking for a philly cheese steak instead.
Azriel pays, and you thank him as you two find a table.
“So… 12 inch triple meat, huh?”
Azriel snorts, “it’s Cassian’s go to.”
“What’s on it?”
“I’m pretty certain they just shove a bunch of different kinds of meat on bread, layer a bunch of cheese on top, and warm it up.”
“Hmmm,” you hum, “very on brand for him.”
The guy who took your order brings you your sandwiches in little baskets, one sandwich packed away in a bag.
Cassian’s triple meat, no doubt.
“How’d you like being my backpack?” Azriel asks, biting his sandwich, half of it coming out of the end.
“Excuse me?” You ask, taking a bite of your own, trying to keep the contents inside of the sandwich as you eat.
“My backpack. You were riding on my back, like a backpack.”
“Oh,” you push some hair behind your ear, “It uh wasn’t too bad, it was actually fun when I got used to it.”
“Yeah? Would you ride with me again?”
His eyes sparkle a bit at you, whether that was from the sunlight peaking through the window or if that was just Azriel, you’re not sure.
“Yeah, I think I would. When I was a kid I always wanted to ride a motorcycle,” you say, smiling. “How did you end up driving one?” You ask, not taking your eyes off of him
He hums, thinking about how to respond. “I always wanted to ride one, too. Then after the incident with my hands,” he holds up his gloved hands as if making a point, “after I relearned how to use my hands, all I could think about for years was riding. During my physical therapies, whenever it was getting hard or frustrating, I imagined myself older, being able to grip the handles, feel the wind on me.”
You just smile at him, unsure what to say, hoping your smile comes across as friendly as you tell him, “I just thought it looked cool.”
A smile breaks across his face, a beautiful laugh coming from him.
“It does look cool,” he replies, bunching up the paper from his sandwich once he finishes, throwing it into the basket.
“Rhys actually bought me the bike.”
Your eyes move from the paper to his face, and a somber look overtakes him.
“When we were kids he told me after those therapies that he’d buy me a bike once we were old enough.”
He shakes his head, the memories of all the times Rhys said those words to him coming in and out of his thoughts.
“I never expected him to follow through on it. But he did. He bought me the bike as a graduation gift.”
You were about to ask how an 18 year old could afford that, but Azriel beats you to it.
“Rhys’s dad is somewhat in the picture. If Rhys does things for him, mostly making appearances at family functions, he gets extra money.”
“His dad does pay our rent, and Rhys has a credit and debit card from his dad, but he also needed his dad to sign on for the bike.”
“Your brothers must really love you,” you say, reaching your hand out to cover his.
He looks up at you, hazel eyes peering into your own and he smiles, “yeah, yeah they do.”
-
You walk into the gym that Cassian and Azriel work at. It was quite large and it looked incredibly pristine. It’s full of people working out, seemingly everyone in town was spending their Saturday afternoon sweating the week off.
Azriel pulls out his phone, shooting a text to Cassian about his sandwich. The two of you chat idly about the gym, and Azriel tells you a bit about the guy who does the scheduling when you catch a glimpse of long hair in a half messy bun on the top of his head.
You see Cassian’s head come from a corner and he makes his way to you two, his grin getting bigger as he sees you next to his brother.
“How’d your date go last night?” He asks, not mentioning Az’s spare helmet in your hand or how if he blew out a breath you’d be touching his brother.
Azriel glares at Cassian over you, but you tell him, “uh, terribly, actually. He was a douche.”
Cassian grabs his lunch from Azriel, thanking him.
“That’s too bad.”
And yet, Cassian wouldn’t stop smiling at you. You go to ask him more, but he tells you, “I gotta go - I only have a few minutes to eat. Thanks,” he tells you, and before you realize what’s happening, he’s grabbing your head giving you a kiss on the forehead, doing the same to Azriel.
The two of you stand there confused as Cassian walks away, over his shoulder yelling, “do NOT forget about karaoke tonight!”
-
You stepped into your living room, to find Rhys, Mor, and Az lounging on your couches, not adhering to the bar’s theme. Rita’s did themed karaoke nights once a month and this month’s theme was cowboys.
Naturally you pulled out your Barbie costume from last Halloween, and are now looking at your non-costumed friends gobsmacked.
“Why is no one else dressed up?” You ask incredulously, as all three of them look towards you. Rhys and Mor start laughing, but Azriel lets his eyes graze up and down your body, his gaze making you wonder if you’re even wearing clothes right now.
Mor smiles at you, “we don’t follow the theme - Cassian does though.”
You huff, crossing your arms, “he made it seem like all of you dressed up!”
Rhys’s eyes dance with amusement as he tells you, “because he wanted you to dress up too.”
As if you summoned him, Cassian comes out wearing black leather pants, no shirt, a matching vest, and a cowboy hat. He looks at you, smiling wide. “You look great!” He tells you, clapping you on the shoulder as he walks past you. “Uber’s here.”
You don’t have time to turn around and change as your group is herded out the door and down the elevator. It hadn’t occurred to you to question how the five of you would fit into an uber until you got down to the curb, Mor bolting for the passenger seat as the guys get into the car.
“You can just sit on someone’s lap,” Mor tells you flippantly, before placing a finger on her nose telling you, “nose goes.”
Az, Rhys, and Cass get into the backseat, and Cass pats his lap for you, raising his eyebrows at you.
“Ew,” you tell him, clambering to get in on Az’s side. “I don’t trust you, Cass.”
You drape your legs over Rhys’s lap, your feet landing in Cassian’s hands as you get situated on Az’s lap. You shoot him a look, wanting to know if this is okay, but he’s talking to the uber driver.
You pull up your phone, typing a note into your notes app, showing it to him once he’s finished with whatever he was telling the driver.
Is this okay?
You show it to him as Cassian and Rhys are watching the end of a rugby game on Cassian’s phone on the other end of the backseat. Az reaches for your phone, his fingers gently brushing against yours as he grabs your phone. You watch him type, his fingers dancing across your keyboard, their scarred skin providing a texture you want to touch.
It’s more than fine.
He had replied, and you’re about to respond when he grabs your phone again, typing out:
Just like the way you look in that costume.
He hands you your phone back, smiling as a blush floods your cheeks. He puts his arms around your torso, holding you in place, and one of his hands gently holds onto your hips, securing you to him.
Sitting mostly in Azriel’s lap, you spend the car ride holding onto him, leaning your head into his neck for support while you talk to Cassian, who keeps threatening to tickle your feet. You tell him you get spazzy when tickled, which would give Rhys a free knee to the face.
“Please don’t, Cass. I’d like to keep my face intact for tonight.”
“Yeah because Feyre’s meeting us at Rita’s and he wants to look good,” Mor replies from the front seat, drawing out the last word.
Rhys rolls his eyes, but you do notice him unlock his phone to the messages between him and your friend, the last one asking her to let him know when she got there.
The five of you arrive to Rita’s, a bar located on the edge of campus, just close enough to be packed full of other students.
Mor leads the group in, with Rhys saying, “Feyre’s on her way.” The blonde leads your group to a large round booth in the corner, all of you piling in. Mor sits on your right as you maneuver your way in, Azriel right beside you.
Cassian sits on the edge, likely so he can get up and go sing without being too much of a hindrance. Rhys doesn’t sit down, heading to the bar to grab drinks for everyone instead.
And perhaps keep an eye on the door for a certain brunette.
The four of you sit in the booth, Cassian being uncharacteristically quiet as he waits for Rhysand to bring him his traditional shot before performing.
You nudge Az, getting him to turn his attention to his brother.
“You okay, Cass?”
Cassian shrugs him off, “I just want my shots. You know I prefer being a bit buzzed before going up there.”
You reach in front of Azriel, squeezing Cassian’s forearm, “you’re going to be great!”
Cassian softly smiles at you, his hand covering yours in a gentle squeeze, “thanks, sweetheart.”
Cassian did seem in better spirits, opting to pick up a conversation with Mor about the best shots to drink before karaoke.
You turn to Az, the two of you closer than necessary in the booth, but you can’t bring yourself to scoot away.
“So, Barbie huh?” He asks, his fingers touching the pink pleather fabric on your shoulder.
You’re confused for a moment, before realizing what he’s talking about. “Oh, yeah. Mor wanted us to go as different Barbies from the movie for Halloween - she was rollerskating Barbie, I was cowgirl Barbie, and Feyre was the pink gingham dress Barbie.”
He rests his arm on the booth behind you, and you stay as still as possible so you won’t scare him off as he asks, “no Kens?”
You laugh, “no Kens, unfortunately.”
His smile is on the verge of cracking his face in half as he says, “maybe this Halloween you’ll have some Kens.”
Before you can reply, Rhysand comes back with a tray of shots and Feyre behind him, wearing a very cute black mini dress.
“Traitor!” You shout at her, as she scooches in next to Mor.
“Rhys told me we didn’t actually dress up,” she defends, holding her hands up. Your eyes shoot to violet ones, their gaze full of mischief. Rhys smiles at you, and your jaw drops, “and you didn’t think to extend the same courtesy to me?”
Rhys’s grin grows feral, “I thought surely with all the texting you and Azriel have been doing, he would have told you.”
You turn, smacking him on the shoulder as he chuckles. “Okay, okay, I should have told you, but you were so excited about it, how could I rip that from you?”
You scoff, “I look like an idiot.”
“A cute idiot.”
Your blush doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone at the table, as Mor pokes her nose in. “I think it’s only fair if next time we come out Azzy and Rhys adhere to the theme.”
Your eyes light up, pointing to Mor, “oh oh oh, I like that idea!”
Rhys turns to cousin, “and why am I involved in this?”
“It only seems fair. You told Feyre that we don’t dress up, so you should have told her as well.”
Azriel butts in, “well Feyre could have told her too.”
Feyre motions her hand over her throat, trying to stop Azriel from speaking further.
“It’s decided then,” Mor says, “the three of you adhere to the theme for next month’s karaoke.”
You pick up your glass and clink it to Mor’s, solidifying the deal. Everyone else is groaning, slumping back in their seats, but this agreement causes Cassian to become invigorated. He’s buzzing with excitement, and at least three shots of vodka, as one of the bartenders walks up to the mic and says, “next up for karaoke - everyone’s favorite - Cassian!”
Cassian gets up, all of you wishing him luck as Mor places a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He prances up to the stage as the scattered applause dies out. The opening notes to Shania Twain’s “Man I Feel Like a Woman” come through the speakers. Cassian lifts his head to the mic to sing, “let’s go, girls”, then turns back around away from the mic. He begins swaying his hips in time with the beat, the leather pants he’s wearing making his ass and his legs look phenomenal. His vest rises a bit as he raises his arms, and you can see the bottom of the tattoo he had gotten during your drunk escapades.
“Are we sure Cassian’s not a stripper?” You ask the table, but Mor shushes you so she can watch the show.
You turn to Azriel, leaning in close to him to whisper, “Do you know how to whistle?”
Your whole body is warm as he leans close to your ear, whispering, “Yes, why?”
You miss the look Rhys gives the two of you, huddled together impossibly close in the large expansive booth.
“I want to whistle, but I don’t know how. Can you do it?”
He obliges your request, rolling his eyes as he wolf whistles at Cassian, who beams at the attention.
You giggle, whispering to Azriel, “his stage name should be 12 inch triple meat.”
You two giggle at the joke before turning your attention back to the stage. Cassian makes it through the first chorus, and he is not receiving his dues. No one is paying any attention to him, and you’re about to ask if there’s anything you guys can do, when Mor grabs your and Feyre’s arms, pulling you out to the little dance floor in front of the stage.
You guys start singing and dancing with him, hips swaying with the music. You guys are singing to each other, smiles plastered on your faces.
You’re lost in the moment when you feel Cassian’s warm hand wrap around your wrist dragging you up on the stage. He has his other hand on Mor, so you quickly grab Feyre’s wrist, all three of you assisting him with the vocals on the “oh, oh, oh”.
It was ridiculous - the four of you on this tiny stage, everyone at Rita’s not caring as you all danced and sang, the three of you providing backing vocals for Cassian.
Three of the most important people in your life singing to Shania Twain.
It was ridiculous. It was everything.
The song ends, and you can hear Rhys and Azriel clapping enthusiastically as the four of you head back to your table.
You slide back into Azriel’s side, his smile making everything inside of you burn for more of it. You spend the rest of the night drinking as Rhys and Cassian regale you all with stories of karaoke nights of the past, the unspoken words hanging between them, but not making their way into the discussion.
The past nights of singing were nowhere near as fun as tonight was.
#acotar fanfiction#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel fluff#acotar writing#azriel x y/n
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YOU'RE DEAD TO ME
[12: EPILOGUE]
dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader
In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?
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The air felt so much lighter and the sun much brighter. Cold water droplets landing on your warm skin as you sat under a damp tree, cooling your sweating body down. Your fingertips touched the mossy ground from under you as they disappeared into the green grass that stood tall.
The touch tickled your skin as you enjoyed the peaceful scenery around you.
Peace.
Quiet.
At ease.
No sounds of war surrounding you or the horrifying screams of the natives filling your eardrums. Just the noise of chirping animals in the background as you inhaled the pandoran air. Your eyes closed as you dozed off, back rested against the same tree you're settling down under.
Your ears twitched. There was a change of background noise. You heard it.
Chirp chirp rustle chirp.
It wasn't loud, but you caught onto it. Your eyes were still closed, waiting for any other unusual sound. A rustle. A thud. The hand that roamed around the high grass moved slowly, but delicately towards your dagger. Your nails dug into the dirt as your hand wrapped around the weapon. You heard another couple of rustles and tried to pinpoint out in your head where THEY would be now. It was more than one.
You could hear soft thuds of footsteps in between a pair of footsteps and the same bush was hit twice. You tried to imagine the scenery in front of you. A small hill in the corner of your right eye, from behind there a small little river flowing down with around the edge a huge bush. Surrounding you just a bunch of naturally placed trees from all sizes. You knew there was a branch just a few meters in front of you. You placed it there for occasions like these. The wood was small, therefore hard to spot thanks to the high grass.
You waited and waited.
Until, snap.
The branch was crushed in half and you jumped from the ground, dagger in hand as you pointed it towards the danger that you would soon face with a soft hiss leaving your lips. Well, a danger isn't what you could really call it, as Lo'ak and Tuk stood in front of you with their hands thrown up in defense.
"Calm down! It's us! Damn, you really got feisty in that form." Lo'ak yelped it out as he took a step back. He then turned to Tuk who was stood on the broken branch. "Tuk! You should watch where you're going! Now our entire stealth plan in scaring sis is ruined!" The words almost escaped his lips with a whine, almost. Tuk's ears ppinted downwards as she gazed at her feet, "I'm sorry..."
A sigh left your lips, shaking your head in the process. You walked up to your siblings. Where you would usually reach Lo'ak around his stomach and Tuk around her neck, you were now facing his neck instead as Tuk reached your stomach.
You put your navy blue hand on her head as you rubbed her head, "It's okay, little Tuk. Lo'ak is just being a meanie! Right?" You then faced your little brother and grabbed him by his cheek. You pulled hard, causing him to yelp out, "right?" You frown as you look up at him, eyes squinted. He immediately nodded in response, his ears flopping slightly as he did so. A small "yes" left his lips and you let go of his cheek in satisfaction.
"Dad wants you back, actually. It's almost dinner time."
"And he sent you?" You raised your eyebrow in suspicion, soon squinting your eyes awaiting an answer from him.
"Okay okay! I actually overheard dad talking to mom so I uhh.... went to get you and took Tuk with me?" He already took a step back as he spoke, scratching behind his neck, "Don't kill me! I just uh, missed you???"
You pinch the bridge of your nose, "Of course you did. You know that if you go somewhere you need to tell someone, especially with taking little Tuk here. I'm not mad, but just, don't wander off without saying a word alright? It's still dangerous out here." You bring your hand to his cheek, this time rubbing it instead of pulling at it like a pillow, "I care about you, you know that right?"
Lo'ak's tail swayed and hit the ground as it did so, nodding his head in understanding, "I'm sorry.."
You shook your head, "no, don't apologize, just, try your best alright? You can also notify me whenever you go somewhere. Now come on you two, we got dinner to catch, don't we?" You pat both of their shoulders, before pulling away and sprinting away.
"Last to get to High Camp gets the tiniest piece of dessert!"
All those years of tormenting yourself, closed off, blinded by anger and sadness. Letting the negative emotions consume you whole. You didn't know what you lived for or why you lived. Negative thoughts taking over your rational way of thinking.
Why did he leave me?
He won't return for me.
Is there something wrong with me?
Did he hate me?
You didn't know what to live for, but now.
"We're back!!" Tuk barged into their shared hut, followed by you and Lo'ak. Neytiri was in a crouched position as she readied the table, but got up once she heard the familiar voice of her daughter, "where were you?! Your father and Neteyam are looking for you as we speak!" She made her way towards Lo'ak, "and you skxawng! What were you thinking bringing your little sister with you!"
Lo'ak's ears point downwards as he got scolded, but you and Tuk soon intervene, "Don't be too hard on him, mother. He can be, unintentionally, reckless. I already talked with him." You explained as you stepped in front of your little brother, putting your hand on his back as you smacked his skin. Tuk stumbled to the front too as she nodded her head, "sis talked to him! And I wanted to explore as well, it's not only on him. It's not so fun to be here the entire day while there is an entire world to explore!"
Neytiri had her hand to her head, shaking her head as the words sunk in, "Lo'ak, Tuk, get to the main grounds to get our dinner."
They obliged to her wishes as they took off, leaving you alone with your mother. You bit the bottom of your lip as you awaited for whatever was to come.
"Are you okay, child?" She put her hand on your shoulder as she spoke. You nodded immediately at her question, "Don't worry, mother. I just needed a quiet place to think, you know?" You smiled softly at the affection. It took Neytiri a while to fully open up to you, flinching every now and then and subconsciously hissing whenever you approached her. The avatar body seemed to help her open up to you, though.
She nodded her head at your words and pulled away from you, "are you going to eat, with us?" You glanced to the table at her question, counting the place she had placed down. Eight plates. You had to stop a smile from appearing on your face, before nodding your head, "Yes, yes I am."
"There you are, was lookin' for ya." Your feet dangled in the air as you sat on a tree branch, mask sitting back on your face. You turned around once you heard that familiar voice, smiling at your father as you pat the branch empty space next to you.
"You disappeared right after dinner. Went looking for you. Didn't know I had to look for a tiny ant instead." Jake sat down next to you with a teasing grin, his palm raising to stroke your hair.
You scoffed at that remark, trying to push his arm away from you, "shut up, old man. I'm not a kid anymore."
"You'll always be my little girl."
Once you looked up at his face, you had noticed he was already staring at you with so much love and care in his eyes.
"This is so embarrassing.." you mumbled from under your mask as you hid your face into his arm. He could only chuckle in response. A peaceful silence took over, the sound of the wind rustling the leaves around you ringing through your ears.
After a few moments, Jake had opened his mouth, "thank you."
You could only look up at him confused, not speaking as you waited for him to explain himself. ", for giving me another chance." He breathed out from under his breath and even though it came out as a mumble, you heard the words loud and clear.
"You're my dad, after all."
The two of you exchanged a smile, before you turned back to look at the scenery, the sun saying goodnight as the moon decided to rise and shine.
"Dad!" Neteyam climbed through the trees with Lo'ak on his heels. The two brothers had sparkles in their eyes as they made their way to the two of you.
"Awee, why did you shrink back?" Lo'ak almost pouted as he pointed your human form out. You could only roll your eyes to visibly show him how you felt about that question.
"Did something happen, boys?" Jake had turned around, voice laced in worry and tenderness as he scanned his boys for any injuries.
"No, we are fine! Uhm we just had the ides to.. Neteyam!" Lo'ak smacked his older brother with his tail, earning a hiss in return.
"You sxwang!" Neteyam threw his arm around his brother's shoulders, before turning to their father, "we wanted to do a... night flight, actually." His ears turned downwards as he suddenly got all shy. His canines dug into his bottom lip as he awaited for his answer.
You smiled at the scene in front of you. This was your cue.
You yawned loudly as you got up from your sitting position, arms stretching as you spoke, "I'm going back to the lab. I'm so exhausted. Have fun! Make sure to bring me a gift." You hugged your father goodnight, soon turning to your not-so-little brothers and also giving each an individual hug, which turned out in them bearhugging you instead.
You watched as the three of them flew off, shuddering at the cold air that came your way from their wings.
Once arriving at the lab, you soon walked to your shared room with Seb and Raja, who were fast asleep as you entered the room. You shook your head with a chuckle as you were met with their snores. You took your bresthing mask off and hung it above your bed, taking a seat on the soft mattress to take a breather and daydream about your day. You trained, played around in your avatar body, ate dinner with your family and connected a lot with nature. A successful day in your eyes.
Thanks to all the activities, you were worn out and soon fast asleep in your bed.
It was late at night as your bedroom door opened, heavy yet quiet footsteps entering the room in just one singular step. He kneeled down, putting a small object on your nightstand and leaning down to kiss you goodnight.
On the object hung a piece of paper with human writing.
'Nete and Lo'ak found this feather. I tried to make it into a hairpiece. Goodnight my little girl.
- love, dad.'
A/N: this is it. The end of the series. My posting schedule went from daily to irregular and I had a lot of blocks in between posting having internal fights with my love for writing and/or under how much pressure I was. I wanted to add more to the ending, but with some help from someone close to me I realized I had told everything I wanted with this story and that I shouldn't force myself to add more than needed. Thank you all so much for being patient and reading this story as it went. I'm planning to pickup writing oneshots again and hope to feel more love when I write rather than pressure. So, until then! <3
#chaethewriter#dad!jake x daughter!reader#dad! jake sully#dad!jake sully#dad jake sully#dad!jake sully x reader#jake sully x daughter#jake sully x human!reader#jake sully x daughter!reader#jake sully x reader#avatar x reader#avatar the way of water#neteyam sully x reader#neteyam x reader#youre dead to me
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don't ever talk to her like that again
Simon Ghost Riley x reader
Liability chapter ten!
synopsis: Ghost forgets to come by and get his wound checked and the reader confronts him in front of 141, who make fun of him. he goes to her and catches a soldier yelling at her.
warnings: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, cursing, angsty ghost
Liability masterlist:
https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share
The next day was busy, she worked at least 16 hours, hopping between the soldiers, tending to their wounds. All of them were kind except for one. James was the young man whom she saved with Ghost the day prior. For whatever reason he seemed to dislike her. He made comments the entire day that had been slowly upsetting her. She tried not to think about it, and even asked to switch with another medic. She didn’t want him going around to others and telling them that she was an awful caretaker.
Things settled down around 5 pm, most of the soldiers were fast asleep. She sits dwon for the first time that day after 12 hours of work and runs her hand over her hair. Her legs were on fire, as was her neck and her back. Yet you could never tell just but looking at her. She looks down at her files and goes over them all. She updated the treatment they’d received that day. She picks up the last file, noticing that it was the partially filled-out page she had for Ghost. She was unable to find his file without knowing his name. She huffs as she remembers that she’d told him to come visit her today. She leaves the files on her desk and walks through the dining hall, she spots him sitting at a crowded table with 141 and many others. Deciding to take a break she grabs a plate and sits down next to Soap and across from Ghost.
“ankle biter! My god it's great to see you” Soap exclaims
“Good to see you too suds” she says pushing his shoulder, the table chuckles at her cute nickname for him.
“How you been today? Haven’t seen you take a break once” Price comments
“Yeah its been busy, everyone seems to be settled now” she nods
“You’ve done such a great job here, Ghost briefed me last night. You’re a real asset kid, thanks for the hard work, hope you know its appreciated”
“Thank you, captain, that means a lot” she nods happily, as her cheeks turn pink
“Any of em giving you a hard time?” Gaz asks “sometimes we can be stubborn after gettin hurt”
“Just one, he’s fine though, doesn’t bother me”
“Who is it?” Ghost asks roughly, his intense gaze on her. Everyone turns to him in surprise, as he hasn’t said a word the whole time.
“Doesn’t matter, but I am curious why you haven’t stopped by today, I need to check your stitches” she says crossing her arms, eyebrows raised as she waits for his explanation. The boys exchange glances, smirks on their faces as they await his response.
“I’m good, don’t need anything else”
“You are on the brink of an infection, I need to clean it out again”
“It’s fine-”
“If I don’t see you in my office before lights out I’ll drag you in there myself” she warns, pointing her fork at him.
“Better not test her mate, I hear gingers are crazy” Soap murmurs
“Shut up Johnny” Ghost snaps
“You have three hours Ghost, don’t push me” she half-jokes “alright boys, I better get back to it, enjoy your dinner”
“You barely ate!” Price comments
“No time, I’ll grab something later” she smiles before leaving the table.
After she’s out of earshot the men erupt into laughter, slamming their hands on the table as they cackle. Ghost sits there with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed at Soap.
“she got your ass LT”
“I’ve never seen a bird talk to you that way, my god I love that woman” Gaz exclaims as he wipes his tears
“She’s got you good doesn’t she eh Ghost?” Price asks slamming his hand on Ghost’s back.
“What makes you say that?” he questions angrily, causing them to laugh loudly once more.
“You’re killing me LT, I can’t stand it” Soap says wiping the tears in his eyes
“Let me put it to you this way mate, I’ve never seen anyone speak to you like that and walk away unharmed. You didn’t even say a word! Never would’ve thought a bird would hold you by the balls like that, I’m glad to see it though” Gaz says sincerely, Ghost shakes his head and stands up holding his empty plate. Soap and Gaz continue to giggle and he glares at them intensely, both shut up and cover their mouths to hide their laughs.
“Fucking idiots” he comments
Ghost walks over to the food and makes a plate of food, he grabs a napkin and silverware before walking to the medical bay. He could hear a loud voice yelling and frowns. He walks closer to the source and sets the food down.
“You fucking bitch! You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, get me a new doctor!” a voice yells
“James, I know it hurts but I have to clean it out, you don’t want an infection trust me” he hears her voice explaining calmly. Ghost stays outside, knowing that she could handle herself. He knew she’d be upset if he came in and defended her. Though every part of him was itching to rip that kid’s throat out.
“No I don’t fucking trust you! You’d rather bounce on Ghost’s dick than actually do your job!” he yells
His eyes widen at that comment and he can’t control the rage that fills his body. Ghost storms into the room, his heavy footsteps causing them to turn and look at him.
“Ghost-” James starts, in the blink of an eye he’s standing above the wounded soldier gripping his collar and holding him up. His heart rate spikes on the machine and he ignores it.
“You fucking insignificant bastard, how dare you speak to a woman like that?!” he demands
“Ghost it’s fine-” she starts
“If I hear you speak to her like that ever again I will fucking kill you. Do you understand me? I don’t give a fuck if you’re in a hospital bed, only makes it easier” he threatens
“okay man!” James says with tears in his eyes
“This woman saved your life! You’d be rotting six feet under if it weren’t for her. Show her some goddamn respect!”
“I’m sorry!” he cries out
“You will be once I’m done with you” Ghost drops him on his back forcefully. She places a hand on his forearm, instantly catching his attention at the touch.
“Come on, lets clean you up” she says pulling him out of the room “someone will help you soon James, hang tight”
She leads Ghost into a spare room and closes the door behind her. He doesn’t say a word as he breathes heavily, his hands clenched as he tried to keep himself from going back and finishing the kid off.
“Can you take off your jacket?” she asks, her voice gentle. He looks up at her, her eyes were red and she was visibly exhausted. He does as told and unzips the thick fleece provided by the force. He reveals the tight black tee shirt he’d worn underneath and she inhales a sharp breath quietly as she stares at the way his muscles pop from the shirt. This was the second time she’d seen his bare arm, and she was still in shock. Fuck he was so sexy.
“besides what just happened, Have you been keeping yourself on light duty?” she asks, seemingly trying to move past the incident that just took place.
“Yes”
“Oh at least you followed one of my instructions” she comments sarcastically
“Are you okay?” he asks as she begins to slowly unwrap his wounds
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“James-”
“James is a dick but you could’ve really hurt him” she says disapprovingly.
“He can’t talk to you like that”
“Unfortunately that’s a part of the job Ghost, angry soldiers need someone to blame, often times the person in front of them trying to help”
“Still gives him no right” he grunts, she begins to clean out his wounds gently as she sighs. He says inherently apologizing for the way he treated her when she tried to help him months back.
“Then he would’ve blamed me for that too, made the rumors worse”
“If you want me to apoligize its not going to happen” he responds
“I don’t expect you to apoligize, I actually think it was really sweet what you did for me. Nobody’s ever defended me like that before” she muses
“Never?”
“No”
“You let me know if he opens his mouth again, I’ll make sure those are the last words that rat bastard ever speaks” he says, watching as her face lightens and she laughs. The sound is like music to his ears, the tense feeling in his stomach dissipating.
“I think you’ve scarred him straight”
“Fucker” he murmurs under his breath.
“I’m a big girl ghost, I can handle my own” she says
“I know you can, but I didn’t ask you to” he responds causing her to snort. “What would you have said to him?”
“I probably would’ve warned him not to threaten the person trying to help him, sound familiar?” she asks, he laughs and nods his head.
“very”
“Okay you’re all set” she says, fixing his sleeve “do you want anything for the pain?”
“No” he says, standing to his feet, his large stature once more towering over her.
He moves to the door and opens it, gesturing for her to walk in front of him. She smiles and walks into the common room, noticing a plate of food on the table. She frowns and walks over to it. “I wonder whose this is”
“I brought it for you” he comments, watching as she looks up at him in surprise “probably cold now”
“That was really sweet, thank you” she says taking a seat as she picks at it.
“Thank you for…” he trails off gesturing to his arm
“Anytime” she nods, watching as he turns to walk away, her eyes widen and she stands calling after him. Ghost turns, staring down at her in confusion.
“So I know you go by Ghost but I need your real name so I can update your file” she says, his body tenses and he glares down at her, she notices and shifts uncomfortably “Its protocol, legally I can’t keep using a blank form”
His mind races as he thinks of a way to get out of this situation. She seems to notice his distress and shakes her head.
“You know what, I’ll talk to Price and figure it out, no problem” she says, watching as he sighs in relief.
“Have a good night Ghost” she smiles before walking away.
-
Later that night she walks into her room, fresh out of the shower. She opens her door and notices it catching on something. She frowns and opens it all the way, noticing a file on the ground. She picks it up and opens it. At the top it read ‘Lieutenant Simon Riley’. Her heart swells as she nearly drops the file on the ground. A large smile spreads across her face as her cheeks turn pink. Simon, his name was Simon. He trusted her enough to reveal his name.
She spends an hour filling out his medical report, unable to keep the smile off of her face. As she finishes she sets the file on her bedside table and crawls under her covers. She lays on her back, staring up at the ceiling with a smile. Her heart racing at the thought of him. Simon Riley had her wrapped around his big ass fingers.
a/n: giggling and kicking my feet rn! I am losing my mind at this, ugh how sweet.
#smut#cod mw2#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#mw2#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x you#simon riley#angst#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod ghost#cod mwii#modern warfare#modern warfare 2#mwii#enemies to friends to lovers#enemies to lovers#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost#cod modern warfare#cod#call of duty x you#call of duty x y/n#modern warefare ii
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Why most people don't get Europapa
youtube
So, Joost Klein's Europapa apparently is taking the world by storm. With its happy hardcore or gabber house tunes and beats and the silly music video, there's no denying that this song has a certain charm, though it also has its detractors.
The thing is, though, most people on both sides don't fully get the song.
To summarize the song, it's essentially about an orphan who travels around Europe to find himself. Those were in Joost's own words.
Europapa is about an orphan who travels throughout Europe (and beyond) to find himself and tell his story. At first, people don’t recognise him, but he goes on seizing any opportunity he gets to let himself be seen. Europapa is a tribute to my father. When bringing me up, he passed on to me an expansive view of the world.
Okay, but why does the song sound so silly? Well, that's something deliberate. I don't really know much about Joost Klein's music, but what I do know is that this is basically what most of his songs are. Silly, yet deep.
Okay, brief detour to give context to the rest of what I'm writing, but it's important to remember that Joost Klein basically became an orphan at a young age. He lost his father to cancer when he was 12, and a year later, his mother died as well. This essentially shaped his music. From what I can gather from the many YouTube comments, he always watched Eurovision with his parents, and told them that one day he'd be there on stage.
So, let's just talk about the elephant in the room. Some people call this European propaganda. However, just the first few lines clue you in that it isn't just some pro-EU propaganda.
Welcome to Europe
Stay here until I die
In fact, there are several lines used that wouldn't sit right if it were pro-EU propaganda. Let's look at the second verse.
Ich bin in Deutschland
Aber ich bin so allein
Which roughly translates to
I'm in Germany
But I'm so lonely
The next lines, "Io sono in Italia / Maar toch doet het pijn" (first line Italian, second line Dutch), which translates to "I'm in Italy / But I still feel pain".
Essentially, the entire song is him trying to let go of his past, to let go of his grief. That's essentially what the burning house and the windmill represent at the end, finally moving on from the past.
And that's essentially what the entire song is about. The entire song sounds like it's stuck in the '90s and early noughties. Naturally the most glaring part is the music style. Back in the '90s, happy hardcore and gabber house was really big, especially in the Netherlands. The way people dance back then and dressed when they did can be seen in the scene with Paul Elstak. Then there's the Gameboy Advance, which came out in the early 2000s.
Another cool thing is a reference to New Kids, a Dutch comedy show from 2007, when someone says "Welkom in Europa jongen!" ("Welcome in Europe boy!"). On the television screen, you can see Gerrie van Boven, played by Tim Haars, a character from New Kids.
But it isn't just a throwback. It's all being done deliberate. Something that gets lost in translation is the text. The rhymes work, however, to a Dutch person, it sounds a bit... childish. Very simple, at the very least. But I think that even that is done deliberately. It sounds like a child has been writing these lines, but I think that's the point of the song. It's supposed to sound like a child has been writing these lines.
The entire song is about the protagonist being stuck in the past, being stuck in his grief. It's why there's a disconnect between the text and the melody. Sure, it's a celebration of Europe, of Eurovision. Joost Klein genuinely loves Eurovision. However, it's also essentially him saying, this is me closing another chapter in my life.
Let's take a look at the outro of the song.
Op kruistocht in m'n spijkerbroek, lopend door de velden
M'n papa en m'n mama zijn voor altijd mijn helden
Aan het einde van de dag zijn we allemaal mensen
M'n vader zei me ooit: "Het is een wereld zonder grenzen"
Regen op het raam en ik stond huilend bij het venster
Veel te vroeg duister, het is winter in de lente
"Ik mis je elke dag", is wat ik stiekempjes fluister
Zie je nou wel, pa? Ik heb naar je geluisterd
This... seems quite long, doesn't it? Well, that's because that's the full outro. What most hear during the video clip is this:
Aan het einde van de dag zijn we allemaal mensen
M'n vader zei me ooit: "Het is een wereld zonder grenzen"
"Ik mis je elke dag", is wat ik stiekempjes fluister
Zie je nou wel, pa? Ik heb naar je geluisterd
Let's translate the full lyrics. I'll put the translations of the lyrics in the music video in bold and italic.
On my crusade in jeans, walking through the fields
My dad and mom are forever my heroes
At the end of the day we are all human beings
My father once told me: "It's a world without borders"
Rain on the window and I stood at the window crying
Darkness far too soon, it's Winter in Spring
"I miss you every day", is what I secretly whisper
You see dad, I listened to you
So, basically, the gist is, this song has many layers. It's a heartfelt tribute to Eurovision, while also telling a personal story about grief and letting go of said grief.
Though I think this interview with Joost Klein on De Avondshow met Arjen Lubach may say more than I could.
youtube
Well, sometimes you must say goodbye to whatever is most dear to you. And when one door closes thousands of others open, apparently. But what I've learned is that you tend to hold on to your own pain sometimes. So this letter provides some sort of closure, dare I say. Saying: "Hey, Mum and Dad... You will always be there for me, but I can't carry this pain forever."
#europapa#joost klein#eurovision#eurovision 2024#esc 2024#eurovison song contest#the netherlands#Youtube
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Tcf part 2 chapter 255
The great and mighty Raon Miru.
"We're going to smack the Dragon Lord in the back!"
"......"
Cale was speechless.
"Nya!"
Hong stepped forward.
"You shouldn't say that!"
Then he added:
"We're not going to hit the back of the head, but the front and the side of the head too!"
Then he confidently pointed at Cale.
"This is our leader!"
What?
Cale's mind became dizzy.
On the other side, On sighed and calmed Hong and Raon down. Then she spoke calmly to the elf.
"We are a group of about a hundred people made up of humans, beastmen, and dragons. We are currently preparing to fight the Dragon Lord, and we would like to discuss this with you, so we would like to invite you to visit. And Wisha said there was a way to reach the origin of the world, so we came together. I'm sorry if you were surprised by our sudden visit."
"What is this again?"
Cale looked at On with a blank face. In response, On leisurely flicked her tail and approached Hong and Raon.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. On holds the entire braincells of this found family. That 12 year old girl is the backbone of the calefam. They'd be goners without her
#give her a raise she's tired of taking care of these adults#tcf#trash of the count's family#cale henituse#lcf#lout of the count’s family#tcf novel#tcf on#tcf hong#raon miru#tcf part 2#laws of hunting
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whichever way [woosan x reader] pt9
pairing: woosan x f reader
rating: 18+
genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits
ch. summary: You visit Wooyoung at work, where one of your ground rules is tested.
wc: 7.7k
ch. warnings: gratuitous Seonghwa cameo, angst, a fight that lasts for like 15 minutes oop, sorta hurt/comfort, non-sexual bondage, dom San, sub Wooyoung, sub reader, rope space, mentions of past arophobia and amatonormativity
a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.
a/n²: there is no smut bc i split this chapter up for length — but the next update will make up for that, promise!!! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
a/n³: in-fic time, less than a day has passed between the end of chapter 7 and the start of chapter 9. this feels worth mentioning, considering what happens in this one lol
masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14
The florist shop where Wooyoung works has a colourful and refreshing showroom, filled with creative flower arrangements, lush potted plants and idyllic garden ornaments. Sweet fragrances permeate the air, bright sunlight comes in from the large storefront windows.
The place is small and packed tight, greenery within arms’ reach wherever you stand; but organised and clean enough that it does not overwhelm the eye. And your vantage point by the counter gives you a nice overview of the store, including its two employees currently at work — but right now, they’re not exactly busy with selling flowers.
“Just relax, hyung!” Wooyoung says, exasperated, waving a hand at his friend and coworker. “Look natural!”
He has a camera pointed at Park Seonghwa; an absolute sweetheart and strong contender for the title of ‘most attractive person you have ever met’.
(A title that Wooyoung and San and literally every single one of their friends are in the running for. You’re still not convinced they didn’t hire their entire social life from a modelling agency.)
You watch them with amused interest. You’ve only met Seonghwa twice before, but he had enthusiastically greeted you when you entered the shop earlier. Now all that bright friendliness has faded, replaced by a stiff smile that’s stretched uncomfortably across his face.
“I don’t look natural?” he asks, nervous in his role as a model. “Why do you need me anyway, isn’t all this for the webshop? Why aren’t you taking photos of the displays?”
Wooyoung sighs impatiently, shaking his head at Seonghwa’s obliviousness. “Are you kidding me? The internet is gonna eat your face up. This is going on all the socials, hyung, we’re going for a viral sensation here! Viral! Now go stand next to those hibiscus and look pretty, alright?”
While Seonghwa moves around the store for a good spot, Wooyoung shakes his head and gives you a pointed look.
“Can you believe this? Man has a phone bursting with selfies and now he gets camera shy? I really thought this’d be a cake-walk.”
You giggle at Wooyoung’s mumbled grousing, and give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. You never actually planned to visit Wooyoung at work today, but after last night activities, you’d been overtaken by an unshakable urge to check in on him.
He’d been yours to take care of, bound and blindfolded, and you can’t shake off an oddly protective feeling, like he is still yours to take care of even now. (San also always insists on dropping by at your place after an intense scene. You always poked fun at his overprotectiveness, but now you understand his chivalrous instincts a little better.)
There really was no need for you to worry; Wooyoung is energetic and upbeat, firing off jokes at Seonghwa in an attempt to relax him.
“What if I pretend to be a customer? Just to set the scene, distract him from the camera,” you suggest to Wooyoung. “But no pictures of me!” you add quickly. “I don’t need to be on this place’s instagram or whatever, alright?”
Wooyoung perks up at your offer. “Yeah, that could work! Come, hyung, pretend it’s just another day on the job.”
He ushers you to join Seonghwa between the colourful dahlias and asters, where you exaggeratedly clear your throat and roll your shoulders, readying yourself for your acting performance.
“Okay, so help me out here,” you tell Seonghwa, overly serious. “Let’s say I want to give my neighbour some flowers. What type of bouquet would I need to communicate my sympathies because his boyfriend never stops bullying him?”
“Oi!” Wooyoung protests, but he has to bite down a laugh to keep his camera steady. “Hwa, maybe you should put together something for a poor guy whose boyfriend’s neighbour keeps bullying him!”
But Seonghwa lets out an adorable giggle, and his smile relaxes now you’ve put him onto a task — no matter how silly the task is. “Well, edelweiss are often associated with courage, that seems appropriate here, right?” he says, meandering through the store. “Or what about some red camellia? Means ‘to persist with grace’ in hanakotoba.”
“San does show remarkable grace throughout his many struggles,” you agree solemnly.
“Same can’t be said about you,” Wooyoung retaliates with a grin.
You stick out your tongue at him, very much proving his point. But then you quietly hang back while Seonghwa enthusiastically digs into the particulars to fulfil your fake request. Your distraction works exactly as intended; now that he has relaxed, his natural sweetness gets a chance to shine on camera.
Seonghwa continues babbling about flower language at you, until the photo-shoot is put on hold when a soft bell chimes through the store. The door opens, and an actual customer steps inside.
Seonghwa helps the distraught-looking young man, who seems to have made some disastrous choices in his relationship — but you don’t listen in on their conversation for too long. Instead, you and Wooyoung reconvene at the counter.
He takes you through his haul of photos, badgering you for feedback. Your lack of expertise never seems to stop Wooyoung from valuing your opinion, always eager to hear what you have to say. So you point out the photos you like best, and happily let him use you as a soundboard.
He nods thoughtfully when you admit to liking the photos where Seonghwa is still just slightly nervous; there is endearing about his tentative smile, making his beauty approachable rather than intimidating. “Maybe you could a few from that side of the store too?” you suggest, gesturing to an area to the side. “The succulent arrangements there are really cute.”
“Oh, good idea!” His eyes flicker over the displays, and already you can see the gears in his head turning, working out the best angles and observing how the natural light falls.
“Do you want me to take over the camera for a bit?” you ask.
“You? Why?”
You shrug, idly looking through more of the photographs. “You said you wanted a viral sensation, right? Getting some shots of you definitely won’t hurt.”
“Are you saying I look sexy?” Wooyoung grins as he leans on the counter, running a deliberate hand through his hair.
“No, that’s what you’re saying. I never used that word,” you tease him. “…But yeah. You look pretty sexy.”
You see no point in lying. There’s something unreasonably appealing about Wooyoung in a dark green apron, fitted around his slim waist; especially combined with a simple off-white shirt, rolled up to his elbows to show off his veiny forearms. He has his hair partially tied back into a half ponytail, the loose strands falling attractively into his face.
Wooyoung lets out a pleased giggle, bumping his shoulder into you and sticking close. His fingers reach to play against your wrist, tapping and drawing circles on your skin. He’s been acting especially clingy today, making you wonder if he also feels the remnants of yesterday’s scene just like you are.
Either way, you don’t give too much thought to his touchy-feely mood, until you keep looking through the photos — and see yourself back on the screen.
“Woo, didn’t I tell you? Not me!” you complain, whapping him on the arm, but it’s hard not to be struck by the picture; the way he has caught your face in the sunlight, your eyes glimmering with enthusiasm as you play customer for Seonghwa. Wooyoung has always had an uncanny ability to capture your happiness in his photos, bringing your inner joy to the surface. Sometimes the intensity of your own expression catches you off guard, making you wonder if your smile ever used to be that wide before.
Wooyoung pats your shoulder reassuringly, holding you into a half-hug. “This photo isn’t for the socials; it’s for me,” he grins and leans in, his lips suddenly pressed against your skin for a firm peck on the cheek.
You freeze instantly.
“Hm? What’s wrong?” Wooyoung asks, but then his memory kicks in. “Ahh right, sorry sorry! No kissing when we’re not— Yep, got it.”
“Yeah,” you say awkwardly. It’s fine, you tell yourself. Wooyoung forgot a boundary, he corrected himself; that’s all. Drop it and move on.
But Wooyoung, caught up in his playful mood, is not dropping it. He tilts his head, his eyes curved with a happy smile of mischievous curiosity. “So really, not just on the lips, no kisses at all? Any room to haggle out a deal? How about… on the top of your head?” he teases, pretending to move in. “Or the tip of your nose?”
Wooyoung keeps feigning more attempts at a kiss, treating the line drawn by your ground rule like a tightrope, balancing right across and threatening to topple over.
And there is no safety net underneath, not for you.
Your good mood shrinks away as Wooyoung happily jokes around, a tightness freezing you up. “No, no don’t,” you say, stiffly pressing a hand against Wooyoung’s shoulder to push him back. “Don’t fool around, Woo. Not this time.”
A strange mix of guilt and discomfort tangles sharply around your chest. Discomfort at Wooyoung’s flippant reaction to your boundary, guilt for having a boundary against one of his preferred displays of affection in the first place.
Wooyoung sobers up when he sees how badly he misjudged the situation. “Hey, sorry alright?” he says, raising his hands in apology. “I didn’t realise it was a big deal.”
In a way, you agree. The kiss itself didn’t need to be a big deal, not if Wooyoung had just let you shrug it off.
But either way, it is part of a big deal.
Once again, you hear the clock in your head, ticking away until the end of your arrangement with San and Wooyoung. Right now, it’s louder than ever.
Most days you just try to enjoy the moment, and avoid thinking too much about it. Now the full weight threatens to come crashing down on you, right in the middle of the flower shop.
Usually you imagine it ending by a slow drifting of interest; a gradual, undefined shift where you fade into the background noise of each others’ lives. Still friends, hopefully, but no longer closely entangled the way you are now.
But the kiss is a blunt reminder that things can also shift in a different direction; San or Wooyoung might grow to want things, feelings, that you cannot offer them. You are happy with the way things are now — but how long before they aren’t? What if this one small stupid kiss is the first of many clashes? What if this is the first sign of some inherent incompatibility between their needs and yours?
What if they ever decide that what you can give them isn’t enough?
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you stay stiffly, trying to keep the tight spool of emotions contained.
Hurt flashes across Wooyoung’s face at your obvious attempt to brush him off. “I’m worrying about it a little,” he says, awkwardly rubbing his neck. “You know I didn’t—”
But Wooyoung swallows down the rest of his words when Seonghwa joins him behind the counter with an armful of flowers for the customer. Wooyoung magics on his friendliest smile, amicably chatting away with the distressed young man while Seonghwa deftly assembles a beautiful arrangement of soft rosy and lavender hues.
Together they comfort their upset customer, assuring him his girlfriend will love these, though you know they’ll be like two gossiping aunties the moment this poor guy leaves the store.
You try to relax during the wait, but suddenly the store’s sweet floral aroma is cloying to the senses, threatening you with a headache.
You just want to get out, take a few deep breaths of fresh air, and ease down your discomfort without Wooyoung constantly casting glances at you. His bright customer service smile hides most of his true expression, but there is definitely a worry in his eyes, and you can’t stop thinking about the earlier hurt on his face.
The customer leaves with his flowers and a soft jingle of the door chime, and Seonghwa turns to Wooyoung.
“How about we do a video too? Talk the boss into making a tiktok account for the store?” Seonghwa suggests, his nerves fully flipped over into excitement now that he’s gotten comfortable with the camera. In his enthusiasm, he clocks a beat too late that something is off with his coworker. “Uh, Wooyoung? Everything alright?”
“Not sure,” Wooyoung says, lines drawn on his brow as he looks at you. “Are we alright?”
“Yeah, I just— I’m gonna head back, see you later, okay?” you say, the headache no longer just a threat.
Wooyoung’s worry falls away from his face to make way for disbelief, and an annoyance prickles to life as you try to brush him off — again. “Wait, are you serious? C’mon, it’s only like five minutes ‘til closing time, I’ll be right behind you. Don’t be like that.”
Unsure, Seonghwa looks between you and Wooyoung. “Hey, why don’t you just leave early, Wooyo?” he offers. “It’s pretty quiet today, I got this. My turn to close up shop anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Wooyoung hesitates, but gives in when Seonghwa gives him a friendly nudge. “Yeah, see you tomorrow. I owe you one, Hwa.”
The way back to the apartment building is quite possibly the most awkward that things have ever been between you and Wooyoung — which is saying something, considering the whole ‘you walking in on him and San having sex’-thing that kicked all of this off in the first place.
Neither of you bring up what just happened, honouring an unspoken agreement to wait until you’re back home. There are a few stilted attempts at smalltalk, like you and Wooyoung are both trying to keep some thin thread of connection alive; but there is mostly just silence.
Wooyoung quietly trudges next to you with his face drawn, hands stuffed in his pockets, and plenty of thoughts on his mind. (You can’t help but wonder; how many of those are second thoughts?)
It’s a painful contrast with how affectionately clingy he was before, but thankfully the apartment building is just one quick subway stop away, and then it is only an elevator ride up to the top floor. You follow Wooyoung into San’s place without really thinking about it, like that’s just where you are supposed to be.
Inside, Wooyoung shucks off his shoes and barely waits for you to follow him into the living room. “Okay, we’re home, can we talk now?” he says, looking back at you with a tight expression on his face. “Cause that back there? That wasn’t cool.”
San, who had been hanging out on the couch, puts down his phone and blinks in surprise at the heavy tension that just walked into his apartment. “What wasn’t cool?”
“It’s not—” you start, but Wooyoung bluntly interrupts you.
“I kissed her.”
“Wait, you what?” San says, now outright startled.
“On the cheek,” Wooyoung explains, then crosses his arms as he turns back to you. “And no, I shouldn’t have — but when you tried to ditch me like that? That wasn’t cool either.”
His frustration is contagious, and you feel yourself responding in kind. “You know what else isn’t cool? You doubling down on the whole thing and making a laugh of it instead of just backing off,” you bite at Wooyoung.
Anger blooms inside you; anger that has very little to do with that stupid kiss on the cheek.
Every time you have to remind him or San of a boundary, it feels like you are speeding up the clock on this relationship, rushing closer towards the end. And you can’t help but resent Wooyoung for making you do it twice.
“You think I like telling you no? I don’t!” you snap, the frustration now burning behind your eyes. “Whenever I gotta push back against something, I feel like I’m pushing you away. I don’t want that! I don’t want to push you away, so just— Stop making me!”
“Make you?” Wooyoung snaps back. “I didn’t make you do anything yesterday. You started on that whole ‘we can still be friends after we stop having sex’ business all on your own, and that felt like a pretty big shove to me.”
Poor San looks completely out of his depth, uncertain as he glances back-and-forth between arguments, but his eyes widen at Wooyoung’s words. “Wait, you want to stop this?” he asks, staring at you in shock.
“No, of course I don’t!” you say, flustered that San’s takeaway is the exact same as Wooyoung’s had been. “Why do you guys keep asking that?!”
“Because you’re the one who brought it up!” Wooyoung says, rolling his eyes at you.
Your mouth opens, then closes again. Shit. That’s… actually a good point. “Not because I want us to stop,” you say, your heated anger slowly cooling down to brittle embarrassment, “I’m just…”
“Wait, hang on, hang on,” San says, finally willing himself into motion.
Carefully, he takes your and Wooyoung’s hands, then leads you to sit on the couch with him in the middle. He doesn’t let go of your hands.
“So let me get this straight. You” — he looks pointedly at Wooyoung — “are upset because you don’t want her to push us away. And you” — he turns to look at you — “are upset because you also don’t want to push us away? So what the hell am I missing here? Aren’t you on the same page? Can we please maybe entertain the idea that you guys aren’t actually mad at each other!”
Now it’s Wooyoung’s turn to cool down, the frustration seeping out of his shoulders. He sighs, something releasing in his breath, then meets your eyes with a tentative grimace.
“I’m not mad at you,” he admits awkwardly. (San lets out a sigh of relief.) “What you said yesterday… maybe it shook me up a bit more than I realised.”
You mirror his grimace, struggling to meet his eyes. “I’m not mad either,” you say, equally awkward. “Sorry, I didn’t really think about how that question could sound to you. I was just looking for reassurance, I swear.”
San squeezes his hand around yours, daring a cautious little smile now the thorn has been taken out of this conversation. “Reassurance for what?”
“Just what I said,” you say with a rueful laugh, unsure how to explain better. “That we’ll still be friends even after things between us change.”
Wooyoung makes a noise of exasperation.
“No but see, that kinda pisses me off,” he says, getting worked up again. “Listen, I get what you were saying, that we don’t know what will happen in the future. But why are you so convinced we’re stopping this any time soon? Sure, we don’t know if it will go on forever, but isn’t that the same for anything? Hell, who can even say if San and I won’t ever break up either?”
“Um, I can?!” San interjects, giving Wooyoung a distressed look.
“I didn’t— Sannie, I’m not saying we will!” Wooyoung says, interrupting his own vehement monologue with a fond laugh, patting at San’s hair. “I just mean you never know! But bringing up stuff like ‘after’ and staying friends…” Wooyoung looks at you with a faded smile. “It made me feel like you got one foot out the door already.”
His words sink in slowly… and for the second time today, you’re forced to admit that Wooyoung sure is making a good point.
(And despite everything, you can’t help but feel a small burst of happiness at Wooyoung’s complete distaste at the thought of ending your arrangement.)
“Maybe… yeah. Maybe I do have a foot out,” you say wryly. “Past experiences have turned me into a bit of a pessimist, I guess. But if they taught me anything, it’s that whenever I got something more involved going on, one of two things always happens. Usually, the whole thing just… dissolves. Not always on purpose, but it does. We’re having fun, but then the fun wears off or it isn’t convenient anymore or something else comes along that’s simply more important.”
“You’re important to us,” Wooyoung protests, sulking.
“Yeah, well. I’m important to Hongjoong too. He still left,” you say sharply, and for the first time, you allow yourself some bitterness in that truth. (Obviously you would have told him to go, had he asked. He never asked. And really, what right did you have to expect him to? You are ‘just’ friends, after all. But fuck, it hurts.)
Wooyoung flinches back, blinking in surprise at your tone, and a fresh wave of guilt bubbles up inside you. You hate it. Why, even in the privacy of your own mind, do you feel guilty for not wanting to be put in second or third or last place for once?
You sigh, reaching across San’s lap to rest a hand on Wooyoung’s thigh. “Sorry Woo, that wasn’t fair,” you say, not thinking too much on if that’s true or not. Right now, you’re tired and just want to smooth things over, not set off another argument.
“It’s fine,” Wooyoung mumbles; and for a moment you worry that it is not fine at all. He stands up, shoulders low from fatigue as he stares at the floor — but then he grabs your hand without even meeting your eyes and pulls you up on your feet, right into a hug.
His grip on you is so tight it knocks the breath of out of you. One of his hands finds the space between your shoulder blades, fingers clinging at the fabric of your shirt, while the other cups the back of your head, drawing you even closer into his warmth.
You can’t see his face, burrowed against your shoulder, but you think you can hear a muffled “you couldn’t push me away if you tried”. A cautious smile curves around your lips, and you gently return his hug, carding your fingers through his dark hair.
It only takes a moment for another set of arms to join the fray, and you let out a soft ‘oof’ as the full strength of San wraps around you and Wooyoung, his firm body pressing into yours.
“You guys scared me,” he pouts, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. “Don’t ever do that to me again, you hear me? Are we all good now?”
You free up an arm to clutch at San’s shoulder; still a bit unsteady but reassured by their dual presences. “Better, definitely,” you allow with a soft smile.
Wooyoung lifts his head up. There is no anger in his face, but the furrow of his brow still hasn’t relaxed. “We are good,” he mumbles. “I still feel kinda shitty. I know I fool around a lot, but it was just supposed to be a bit of fun. Never meant to actually upset you.”
“I know,” you say, gently brushing through his hair. “It’s okay. Sorry I tried to shut you out.”
San looks from you to Wooyoung, gears turning behind his eyes as he sees you’re both not fully at peace yet. “Let’s take it easy tonight, alright?” he says with an encouraging smile. “You two go freshen up or take a nap or something, I’ll order some food, and after that we’ll make sure everyone gets all nice and relaxed. I may know just the thing.”
A ping of curiosity goes off at San’s last words, but you know asking won’t be any use; he likes to keep his surprises. “Thanks, San,” you smile back, “and thanks for snapping us out of it.”
“Hey, someone’s gotta be the sensible one around here,” he grins — and lets out a tiny, cute yelp when Wooyoung lovingly bites his shoulder.
“You think you’re the sensible one?” Wooyoung says in teasing disbelief, right back to his menacing ways.
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“Yeah, I’m with Woo on this one,” you say. “Sense? San, you bark at Byeol.”
San makes an offended noise. “Byeol grew up around pups, she doesn’t speak cat!” he defends himself, endearingly earnest.
“Ah yes, perfectly sensible,” Wooyoung drawls, exchanging a grin with you; and as your eyes meet, you know that things will be alright between you.
San tries to glare at you and Wooyoung, a look that is completely neutralised by the pout on his lips. “You two really want to piss off the guy who’s about to buy you dinner? That a road you want to go down?” he threatens, but there’s a poorly hidden, happy gleam in his eyes.
Wooyoung throws his arms around San, pressing an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. “Love you, babe!”
You hug San with equal enthusiasm, nuzzling against his shoulder. “Thank you, food daddy!”
“‘Food daddy’?!” San gives you a startled look but quickly sighs in defeat, patting you and Wooyoung on the head. “Fine, fine. Go take a shower or something and I’ll handle it.”
A long shower and a hot meal later, you find yourself in the familiar space of San’s bedroom; the white walls contrasted by dark sheets and curtains, with their the monochrome artwork of vast mountains and woodlands. A place you’ve come to associate with safety and pleasure; a place that eases the tension in your body just by breathing the air between these four walls.
Soft music drifts through the background; one of San’s easy listening playlists, relaxed and unobtrusive, and he even took the time to light a subtly scented candle. The atmosphere is quietly intimate, but also distinctly chaste, with none of the usual heat.
You are kneeled down on the bed, doing some light shoulder stretches to warm your body up, comfy in a basic sports bra and a pair of sleeping shorts. Wooyoung is dressed in a shirt and baggy boxers — and adorned by lines of rope stretched across his chest, already halfway into a box-tie. He submits to San’s work with a languid smile, slowly letting the outside world slip away.
“Of course your ‘thing’ would involve rope,” you tease San, then sigh in bliss at a particularly satisfying stretch. “Don’t know why I’m surprised.”
“Hey, if it works, it works,” San says with a wink. “Besides, you sure were eager enough when I pitched the idea.”
To literally tie you and Wooyoung together? A little on the nose, perhaps, but god San had looked so cute when he suggested it, so proud of himself for his ingenious plan, and you’d hardly object to such a thing anyway.
You realised long ago that bondage is a bit of a favourite between San and Wooyoung, and they are no strangers to non-sexual forms of rope play either. Both for the intimacy and calming benefits of the act itself, and to test out complex ties or positions in a low intensity environment.
San finishes the box tie on Wooyoung, securely cinching both his arms and wrists, ropes crisscrossed prettily across his chest. Already you can see the shift on Wooyoung’s face; in the right mood, rope is one of the few things that truly slows him down, its soothing effect reaching all the way into his very core.
“Everything good?” San asks, his voice like velvet while he checks the knots. “That’s it, slow your breathing,” he hums, raising and lowering a hand in time with Wooyoung’s breath, guiding him deeper into an almost trance-like state. “Focus on the smell of the candle, how the rope feels against your skin, holding you in. Nothing in the world except the three of us in this room.”
He tenderly cups Wooyoung’s cheek for a soft kiss, lingering close as their foreheads touch.
“I’m right here, I’ll be right next to you,” San whispers. “Just keep your eyes on me, alright?”
You smile softly at San’s reassurance. Even when he is forced to divide his attention between two subs, San always finds small ways to stay connected, especially when one of you is in a vulnerable state.
Wooyoung briefly rubs his nose against San’s, then lets him go with a content sigh. A familiar warmth spreads in your chest at being the witness to their intimacy, their willingness to share unguarded moments of delicate happiness.
Then San turns to you, and treats you to a moment of delicate happiness of your own with a light brush of his knuckles across your cheek. “You ready?” he asks with a small grin, looking far more relaxed himself too. Like the act of tying up Wooyoung unwound something inside him as well.
You nod, filled with gentle anticipation. “Yeah, I am.”
“Then let’s get started,” he says, holding up a piece of rope with a playful spark in his eyes.
You settle down while San goes to work, a feeling of serenity washing over you with the knowledge you are in safe hands. He is as meticulous as always, an easy rhythm to his movement, like the cords are an extension of his body, wrapping himself around you.
San’s slightly calloused fingertips brush against your sports bra and against bare skin. Even with zero intent on arousal, there is a sensuality to the way his hands move over your body, leaving a trail of rope that are not unlike his fingertips; slightly coarse but still soft. There is no restraining element to your decorative harness, but it feels secure around you, grounding your senses. With every cord San lays across your chest, he reduces the world further down to just this place, this moment; no thoughts, no worries, no conflict.
You glance at Wooyoung to find him watching you with a slow, dopey smile, all his earlier tension evaporated. His smile widens when he notices you looking, and your own lips curve up in response.
The diamond chest harness snugly hugs your breasts, and you feel the odd urge to preen, filled with a surge of confidence at how they accentuate the soft curves of your body. You arch your back just lightly, and Wooyoung bites his lip with a breathy laugh; he will always respect the need to show off.
“Looks nice,” he says, slightly raspy from the effort to summon his voice.
“Back at you,” you hum, casting an admiring glance at Wooyoung’s body and the ropework. “San did well.”
San strokes the back of your head, and gives the nape of your neck a small, appreciate squeeze at your compliment. “Ready for the next part?” he asks, looking from you to Wooyoung with a quiet intensity in his eyes, fully absorbed in his role of caretaker.
Once he is sure you are both still comfortable and in a good mind-space, San helps you down on the bed, on your side with one arm outstretched in wait. Then he helps Wooyoung to lay next to you, your arms neatly wrapping around Wooyoung’s waist as you scoot close, until your chests are pressed up against each other.
Wooyoung gives you a half-grin, his trance-like slumber disturbed by the change in position. He is close, so incredibly close that you can see even the faintest blemishes on his skin, tiny faded scars and small traces of acne. There is something mesmeric about them, grounding you deeper into the reality of the moment, the reality of him.
“Yeah, I like this,” Wooyoung sighs, wiggling closer while San ties up your wrists behind Wooyoung’s back, trapping you together.
“Good,” San says, his eyes curving as he finishes the last knot and looks up at you. “How about you? Still comfortable?”
More than comfortable; small jolts of excitement are firing off inside your veins at Wooyoung’s proximity, but you take a few slow breaths, guiding yourself back into the easy-going atmosphere. “Very,” you joke, squeezing your arms around Wooyoung. “As far as methods of conflict resolution go, this is definitely a new favourite.”
“See? Told you it was a good idea.” San grins at you, grabbing another length of rope; his work is not done yet. He starts on Wooyoung’s ankles, whose expression has gone thoughtful at your comment.
Tied up the way you are, there is no escaping Wooyoung’s pensive gaze — but you don’t try to, meeting his eyes while he is brought into an even deeper state of constraint. He slowly blinks at you, pupils dilated in the dim light of the room.
“What was the other way?” he asks.
“‘Other way’?” you frown, trying to work out what Wooyoung is talking about.
“You said that whenever you’re involved in this type of situation, there are two ways for it to end,” Wooyoung says, still looking at you intently. “You never told us the second one.”
San perks up in curiosity at the question.
Ah shit. You groan, reflexively trying to hide your face in your hands — but they are securely locked behind Wooyoung’s back, so all you do is pull him in closer into the soft cushion of your chest. He is happy to let you, the ropes of your harnesses pressing into each other.
“Wait, is it embarrassing?” he asks, almost a little too eager; Wooyoung loves embarrassing stories.
“Not— not exactly,” you quickly disillusion him. “I told you it usually ends because interest fades, right? Well, the other way is… the opposite, pretty much.”
“Too much interest?” San asks, his hand now on your ankle, nudging you to bend your knee and hook your leg over Wooyoung’s.
You breathe out a soft, bitter laugh. “Yeah that’s spot on, actually,” you say, following San’s guiding touch. Your hips neatly line up with Wooyoung’s, and San starts to anchor you together. “Last person that I had a friends with benefits type of deal with, he… Well, he started to have some romantic ideas about me, about our deal. When I couldn’t feel the same way about him, he made it real damn clear he took that personally. Blamed me for wasting his time. Now… Now I don’t know if we ever really were friends at all.”
Saying it out loud hurts more than you expected, a painful reminder of how he’d seen your friendship as nothing more than a stepping stone.
You had genuinely liked him, enjoyed his company, but none of your time together had any intrinsic value to him except as a prelude to romance. Didn’t matter that you’d been upfront from the start; he’d still convinced himself that his feelings for you would magically change yours, like he was the one person who’d finally ‘fix’ you. His word, not yours — and that had hurt the most of all, threatening to undo all the work you’d done to teach yourself you were not broken in the first place.
Frustratingly, sudden tears burn behind your eyes. It is the vulnerability of the bondage, you tell yourself. It is because you are tired. It’s definitely not because of some asshole who’s not worth a single spare thought. Dammit, you can’t even wipe your face right now, forced to try and push back your tears through sheer willpower.
Wooyoung scoffs loudly, breaking your concentration.
“What a fucking asshole,” he says, shaking his head. He tries to grab onto your hands, still tied behind his back, but the best he can manage from this position is for his fingers to graze against your wrist. “His loss, if he thinks any time spent with you is a waste.”
“Agreed,” San says, squeezing your knee. The ropework around your leg is half-finished and forgotten. “The friendzone is criminally underrated, if you ask me,” he says, and somehow he manages to be joking and completely earnest all at once. “And our zone? Some cool hot gal lets me be her friend, and she’ll let me smash? I fail to see the problem.”
You hiccup a laugh, tears shaking loose from your lashes. “Yeah, you know what? You’re right. I’m a damn platonic catch!”
“Damn straight you are!” San grins, his hand warm and reassuring on your leg.
Wooyoung still looks intensely at you, his eyes flickering across your face, tracing your tears. Briefly, the thought strikes you that he wants to kiss you.
Right now, with your bodies trapped together, there is very little you actually could do to stop Wooyoung from kissing you again — but you do not panic when he leans in, filled with absolute trust. A trust that Wooyoung proves himself to be deserving of when he just clumsily brushes his nose against your cheek, an awkward attempt at wiping your tears.
You start to giggle when you realise what he’s doing, and Wooyoung joins in when he realises how futile and ill-conceived his efforts are. “San? A little help here?” he laughs, leaning back to his original position. He shakes his head at his own silly impulse, his bright smile even more beautiful and contagious from so close-by.
San does not hesitate, grabbing a tissue from his nightstand before he lays down behind you, leaning over to properly wipe your face. He does not return to his ropework, opting to stay close for a proper cuddle. His cheek presses against your shoulder, an arm slung heavily across your waist so his hand rests on Wooyoung’s hip.
“Just, for the record,” San says, his voice so close to your ear it raises goosebumps, “all jokes aside, I really am happy with how we are now.”
You manage to turn your head just enough to give San a grateful look, gently bumping your forehead against his. “Me too,” you say, and hesitate for only a moment to say more. “You… you guys do know I care about you, right? Like, a lot.”
“We do,” he smiles, dimples and all, while Wooyoung tries to squeeze his hands around yours again.
“But sometimes that only makes more difficult, to try and figure out how to navigate all this,” you say, grimacing again. “Even now? Right now? Some tiny part of me is worried that I gave off the wrong signal by saying that. It’s like I’m trapped in some weird split, and I’ll either push you away or lead you on, even by accident.”
Wooyoung chuckles dryly. “You get stuck in your head a lot, don’t you,” he observes almost conversationally.
“…Yeah,” you admit with a chuckle of your own.
“You know,” San says gently, “it’s not like I never thought about this kind of stuff either. Where it’s going, when you might break things off. Maybe I should’ve brought it up myself, I don’t know. Maybe I was worried where that conversation might go.”
Wooyoung blinks in surprise. “Wait, you also thought we might stop having sex anytime soon?”
“…You really never considered that??”
“Not until yesterday! Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”
“I just—” San shrugs, a little helpless. “I didn’t want to bother you with it.”
(It is an odd thought; all this time, you wondered how much time you’d have before San and Wooyoung inevitably moved on, while San wondered the very same thing about you.)
Wooyoung’s frown returns, and he shifts a little against his restraints. “Hey, you know I don’t like it when you don’t talk about what’s bugging you. Even if the thing bugging you isn’t me.”
The last part is light-hearted, but you can still sense his concern, a history of past conversations in his voice.
It is a new side they are showing to you; allowing you to witness not only the intimacy of their happiness, but the intimacy of their disputes as well. Somehow it’s both uncomfortable and a comfort at once; you are literally trapped between them, but there is something revealing about this kind of vulnerability, their willingness to let you into their lives. The pretty and the unpretty parts of it.
“I— Yeah no, you’re right. I should’ve,” San says quietly, reaching to brush his fingers across Wooyoung’s cheek. “Sorry.”
Wooyoung raises an eyebrow, but there is a budding grin on his lips. “Seriously, this all would’ve been sorted out so fast if either of you just talked to me about it. Idiots.”
“I did talk to you!” you splutter in protest.
“Yeah and here we are, not twenty-four hours later! Case closed!”
(Damn, he really won’t stop making great points today.)
“No, not ‘case closed’,” San says, huffing a laugh. “That’s what I was trying to talk about!” His face goes a little softer, leaning over your shoulder just enough so he can make proper eye-contact with you. “Listen,” he says gently, “we don’t have to work out anything definitive right now, but I— we’d like it if you stuck around for a long time. If you want.”
He rushes to add the last part, like he’s worried even the tiniest hint at anything remotely resembling a commitment could make you bolt like a startled deer — and you can hardly blame him for that.
You give him a quiet nod, unable to do much more right now than acknowledge his offer, then you look at Wooyoung, to see where he is at right now.
“Yeah, I’m with San,” Wooyoung says earnestly, but you spot the playful gleam in his eyes even before he opens his mouth again. “Seriously, what do I care if I get to kiss you or not, if it means we get to keep you around? I’d rather learn a little self-control than miss out on you.”
You exhale a soft, fond laugh. “Thanks, Woo. I know what a sacrifice that is for you,” you tease him, but you squeeze your arms around him a little tighter to make clear you really do appreciate it.
“Oh, it’s a huge sacrifice. Don’t you dare think I’m treating this lightly,” Wooyoung says, absolutely treating it lightly “Do you even realise just how much I love smooching my friends? So. Damn. Much. You better be grateful!”
You’re fully aware of how much he loves it; you’ve seen often enough how he — and San — menace their friends with kisses the same way you like to menace Hongjoong with hugs. In hindsight it’s a small miracle that it took this long for either of them to slip up and lay one on you at the wrong moment.
You try to move your arm to reach back and touch San, and are mildly surprised when you can’t, still restrained by the ropes around your wrists. They’d almost been forgotten, like they are as natural to your body as wearing clothes.
“…Hey, is it weird that we just had this whole heart-to-heart while me and Wooyoung are tied up?”
San just shrugs, giving you a small grin. “As long as it works for us. That’s how we’re doing this whole thing, right?” But it does pull his attention back to the bondage, and he testingly feels at your bindings. “Does it all still feel good?”
“Really good,” you sigh. “Definitely worth revisiting this type of thing under different circumstances. Ah… I think Wooyoung agrees,” you blurt out the last part; his cock gave an enthused twitch at the suggestion of doing this again, noticeable even through his boxers.
“Oh, does he now?” San purrs, running his hand over Wooyoung’s chest harness.
Wooyoung is predictably shameless. “Hey, I’m enjoying myself. I’m all for a redo without clothes getting in the way.”
“Then we’ll make that happen soon, for sure,” San says, biting his lip. “Want me to untie you now, or stay like this for a bit longer?”
You and Wooyoung exchange a look, coming to an unspoken, unanimous agreement. “Bit longer.”
San hums, the heated look in his eyes softening back into affectionate warmth. He nestles back against you, throwing a leg over yours to hook his ankle around Wooyoung’s; creating another connective thread between the three of you as the bedroom settles into a relaxed, almost dream-like space.
You’re still restrained, but you have never felt less trapped. Instead you surrender your body and mind to the rope, to San, even to Wooyoung, although he is just as tied up as you; and you know you are welcome here, your presence treasured for exactly the way you are.
The feeling lingers even after San carefully untangles you and Wooyoung, enveloping you like a soft, serene glow.
You feel it in the gleam of San’s eyes as he rubs circles into your wrists, gentle deep pressure to encourage your bloodflow. You feel it in the weight of Wooyoung’s head resting on your shoulder, so quiet that you think he has dozed off until he giggles at an exchange of small jokes between you and San.
You feel it even after you leave their physical presence behind to turn in for the night; it’s right there in the ease of your thoughts, in knowing they won’t carelessly discard you.
The timer has stopped, no longer ticking away in your head. Instead San’s offer echoes through you, resonating stronger with every repeat.
“We’d like it if you stuck around, for a long time. If you want.”
In truth, you never gave much thought to what you actually want the future with San and Wooyoung to look like, other than some vague idea of ‘existing in each others’ lives’. You always assumed the choice would be made for you, and to fill in any details would only set you up to get hurt.
Now they have extended a hand to fill in those details together. And you don’t know what it’ll look like exactly — a platonic commitment of some sorts, something that works for the three of you regardless of traditional conventions — but you do know that you want to stick around. For a long time.
The next morning, you wake up to find a 4AM text from Wooyoung.
hey so non-sexy kissing is off the table but i can still bite u right
You snort tiredly, still half-asleep. Like he hasn’t been doing plenty of that already! But you resolve to go see him today, and give an in-person demonstration to show him exactly how you feel about bites.
#ateez smut#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#san smut#wooyoung smut#ateez imagines#ateez fic#woosan x reader#san x reader#wooyoung x reader#ateez hard hours#kpop smut#ateez#san#wooyoung#ateez scenarios#san ateez#wooyoung ateez#igby’s writing
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