#and like most of that list were things i've been wanting for years but put off because of expense

[onthegreatsea]

them losing the ICO doujins is especially painful to me

[moonchild1]

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅹ)

yup i've hit you with another list and once again i had so much fun putting it together... i was away for a bit but that spark came back and i'm back in action... this list holds so many amazing fics i've read it's alot of different types of storylines and some new genres i wanted to try out and i am so excited to go down that road with these new genres i haven't explored yet, but please do enjoy this list there's so many great fics here you will get lost in it i know it did, my next list should be out by next month i want to take time to read as many as i can and get back all that excitement so the next one might take a while... since these fics are so outstanding we can't forget to give all the love and support to the incredible authors who have taken the time to plan and write these fics without them we wouldn't get to read such beautiful and entertaining fics so please so them all the love and support in the world cause they truly deserve it leave them a nice comment, like and reblog the posts so others can discover them too and give them a follow and check out their masterlists i'm telling you, you will most definitely fall in love with their work and find lots of great pieces in there. most of the fics i recommend contain smut so no minors allowed and don't interact you as well as ageless blgs will be blocked and if you would like to share a fic with me you are more than welcome too i love hearing from you i hope you all enjoy this list and till next time ~ kiki ♡

f- fluff s- smut a-angst

series

between takes by @jeonstudios f s a

as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard.

i want you to stay by @ahundredtimesover f s a

Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You've dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

you're losing me by @sparklingchim s a

in the midst of marital challenges, jungkook and you grapple with the complexities of your relationship. yet, the lingering question whispers: how do you truly determine if the journey is worthwhile?

kiss the girl by @guked f s a

after saving a human prince from being drowned by the sea witch, you’re cursed by that infamous witch to live out the rest of your days as a human—unless you can manage to get true love’s kiss from that very same prince. which would be a simple task, had he not hated you the moment you met.

flux by @yoonia s a ft. myg

One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. poly au

in motion by @/yoonia s

The rule is simple; you can look but you can’t touch. You’ve been attending the event for a few times since you’ve encountered the voyeurism club, but it was only when a certain boy arrives on one occasion did you feel the fire of lust burning inside.

what the fire gave us by @gimmethatagustd f s a

↬ You were born with a Gift that the world wanted to turn into a weapon. All Jungkook wanted to do was show you that you could find love, even in the dark.

friend in me by @ktheist f s a

“don’t confuse your party friends with your real friends.”

knife's edge by @readyplayerhobi f s a ft. pjm

The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?

take a chance by @crystaljins a

You should have known the second your business partner asked you to plan his best friend’s wedding as a favour that it was going to be nothing but trouble. Especially when it turns out he’s in love with said best friend. And dying of a deadly disease because of it.

chess of ice by @jimlingss f a

Jeon Jungkook is a rising star, aka. hockey captain of a team heading for the Olympics. The last thing he expects is to begin a whole ‘nother sport, holding a broomstick in his hand, sweeping the ice and throwing dumb stones towards a target. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his love life is about to turn into a game of chess as well....and you’re his opponent.

diamond in the rough by @kimvtae f s a

When a business heir from Busan, Jeon Jungkook, meets you, a poor girl from Daegu, he doesn’t expect to fall as quickly as he does. He’s been told for his entire life to avoid Daegu, a town riddled with gangs and a history of a brutal murder in Busan, but he can’t stay away from you, even when he’s warned that you’re not good enough for him.

try hard by @hobibliophile f s

Yoongi asks you to help him photograph the university rugby team, and you’re reluctant until you see Jeon Jungkook in uniform. Damn.

cruel intentions by @jeonqukie f s a

All is well in your overtly simplistic life. You managed to maintain decent grades in university all the while progressing through your relationship with your long-time boyfriend and accompanying your best friend in her exhausting personal life. But as the saying goes when there are ups, there will surely be downs. While you’ve maintained this upward pattern, you are defeated when one afternoon inevitably brings you to a downward spiral. All good things must come to an end. Who knew you would be sharing the same sentiment with someone you barely know.

sillage by @deerguk s

Soulmate!AU where soulmates are drawn to one another by the infliction of physical touch, whether it be pain or pleasure. But it is only initiated once the two people somewhat interact.

remote learning by @hansolmates s

working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two.

when it rains by @choiwrites s a

Being an exotic dancer was never easy. Every day was the same for you, until you reached that one breaking point you’ve been avoiding since your miserable life started. On a rainy night, Jungkook and his yellow umbrella were your last call of hope.

hate at first weeb by artaemis, freckleyoon (ao3)

You just want to weeb in peace but your annoying downstairs neighbour just won't let you breathe

wanted by @jincherie s a

You were a deserter, a renegade, a wanted “criminal”. It was never in your plans to crash land on that planet, and it most certainly wasn’t in your plans to fall in love with it’s handsome ruler.  

everything in you by @jjungkookislife f s a

You want a baby and Jungkook is willing to help. f2l, roommates au, pregnant!reader

home for the holidays by @/jjungkookislife f s a

Jungkook is in desperate need to find a girlfriend for Christmas. His mom has nagged and nagged about him bringing someone home for the holidays. Determined, Jungkook recruits his friends in hopes of finding the right girl to take home. In need of a place to stay, and no plans for Christmas, you answer his friend’s ad. You have 25 days to convince not only his parents but his grandmother that you’re in a real relationship, solid enough to get through Christmas with the Jeons.

every breath you take by @junqkook s a

everything was going great when you first met jeon jungkook. he was a new light in your life with soft smiles and tinkling laughs; but then you noticed a lurking presence that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

navy by @jjkfire f a

He’s your best friend, practically your other half and the two of you have always promised to be there for each other no matter what. The both of you have dreams of professionally making music together one day and to you it’s almost like reality, a given really, and with each day, the dream starts to feel like it’s within reach. But, one day, with one sentence, Jungkook destroys it all.

wicked by @adonis-koo s a

In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

paper doll by @winetae s a

When the nation’s little sister, IU, gets into a huge scandal, your agency seizes the opportunity to thrust you into that now vacant spotlight. Your self-composed song Paper Doll becomes an overnight sensation, and soon people are itching to find out who was the one who broke your heart. All hell breaks loose once netizens discover that you used to date popular idol, Jeon Jungkook. Little do they know that it wasn’t him who left the relationship unscathed — it was you.

one shot

the devil's change up by @jungblue f s

Majoring in athletic training means you have mandatory observation hours to perform with every single sports team at your school throughout the year, and so far it’s been going pretty great. However, when regrets from your past cause your rotation with the baseball team to become a little rocky, there’s one star pitcher who says that he can make it all better. 

this is how we break up by @/ahundredtimesover s a

There are things you prepared for coming back home and that includes seeing your ex-boyfriend, but helping him design his apartment isn’t one of them. From meetings over coffee and lunches with your friends, you both learn more about the time in-between, and what you find out leave you heartbroken, wondering if there’s enough of you left to try to get back what you’d lost. “You know what they say about past lovers remaining friends? It’s either they never loved each other to begin with, or they still do. And we all know how much they loved each other, don’t we?”

a piece of the moonlight by @/jimlingss f a

For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love.

the quest to bedding the lead singer of frontman by @kpopfanfictrash s

Frontman is your favorite band in the world and honestly, the only reason you waited this long in line is to stand at the front for a shot with the lead singer. Enter sexy sound boy, who just won’t leave you alone. (punk!Jungkook)

heartbreak trials by @dreamyjoons s a

it all started with a bet: the one with the highest body count would get the most illustrious prize - Namjoon’s bedroom. For you and Jungkook, the race was on.

perhaps love by @mangowillow f a

for as long as you can remember, you have been in love with your childhood friend turned roommate, but jeon jungkook remains oblivious even when he comes to comfort and help you sleep every night.

what? now by @theharrowing f s

For as long as you and Jungkook have been friends, your feelings for him have been unrequited. Or have they?

lilac wisteria by @blushoseoks f a

the first time jeon jungkook says that he is going to marry you, you are five years old sitting underneath a large wisteria tree.

tell me no lies by @jeongi f s a

You chose to rob your boss, however; you never expected to fall in love with him.

mcd*ckin by @jinned s

"So, if I'm so predictable," you tease, running your finger along his clothed chest, "what am I going to do next?"

things you said while you were driving by @cupofteaguk f

post breakup au

(y)our name by @jjkpls f s a ft ot 6

It’s always been the two of you since you were little. People came and went in your lives and Jungkook didn’t mind until you turn into grown-ups and he starts to mind a bit too much.

(un)welcomed addition by @shuadotcom f a

After a drunken one night stand with your neighbor, you have your reasons for wanting to forget it ever happened and never talk to him again. Unfortunately, Jungkook wins the award for the world’s worst neighbor so his 3 am wakeup calls and mail stealing have you banging at his door on an almost weekly basis. You just want to make it to the end of your lease so you can leave all the traces of the fuckboy next door behind...unless your feelings get in the way of course.

Just Like the Movies by @/shuadotcom f s a

When you need a fake date for your cousin’s wedding and all of your other friends have plans, that only leaves your best friend Jungkook - who you also happen to be completely in love with. It’ll be easy getting through a week of fake dating him, right?

watermelon sugar by @/shuadotcom f s a

When your friends outvote you for your annual summer trip, you end up stuck at a beachside town. To make it worse, there’s an irritating local surfer boy that won’t leave you alone… that is until you see him shirtless and in the water - then you don’t want him to leave you alone and your unexpected summer romance begins.

take my whole life by @/ktheist f s a

chaebol au. arranged marriage au. expecting parents au.

never let you go by @yeojaa f s

You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud.  Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t. (or:  Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)

speaking in bodies by @/yeojaa f s a

The holidays have never meant much to you - less a promise of Christmas morning joy and more a reminder of all the things you’ve lost.  Some would call you a grinch; others, just a plain old asshole.  Jeon Jungkook would call you both.  The more time you spend together, though, the more you thaw, melting beneath the sun that seems to sit right in the centre of his chest.

howling for you by @fortunexkookie f s

The way your Little Red Riding Hood costume lured over a fuckboy in a half-assed werewolf costume was a little cliche, but god damn was he beautiful. He promised he had plenty of big things to show you, and you took him up on the offer, not realizing that you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew

cold nights & blurred lines by @awrkive f s a

jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

christmas is waiting for you by @/lamourche f s ft myg (ao3)

Being home for the holidays surrounded by your well-meaning family isn’t that bad. All you have to do is (1) survive the Andersons’ annual Christmas Eve party, (2) avoid all questions about your job, and (3) avoid your high school nemesis (not a crush!), Jeon Jungkook.

lost stars by @/subvk f s a (ao3)

Falling in love with Jeon Jungkook was everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, but maybe it was exactly that: a dream so blissful and comforting that it was too good to be true, something that could all disappear when the night changes to day, and your eyes open again. Or, making a marriage pact with your best friend was supposed to instill a sense of hope for you, so why does this hurt you more than it should?

a beautiful epiphany by @/subvk f s a (ao3)

Derailed by heartbreak and the loss of inspiration, Jeon Jungkook tries to rediscover his love for art again. As his best friend, you’re willing to do anything to help him reignite his lost passion. Little do you know that the struggling artist’s new muse is closer than you think.

the philosophy of goodluck by @kidguk f s

“you told me i looked good and that you needed to get a tattoo of my face” is not the explanation you wanted to hear from the tattoo artist that permanently etched the dumbest drunken request of your life onto your skin.

mountebank by @/kidguk f s ft. pjm

Soulmate AU featuring Jimin, in which you’ve been waking up next to your soul-enemy and running from your soul-mate. Figure that mess out, will you? 

holidays of breads and wood by @cutaepatootie f a

Every December now smells like freshly baked bread and wood to you. Its cold wind brings you memories of him every morning as you are kneading your mixture of water, flour and a pinch of nutmeg – the secret ingredient that makes your bread taste so special. It seeps through the open window of your small kitchen and shakes your entire body. It seeps under your flour-stained apron, getting through your clothes and reminding you of his soft touch. It sounds like forest and shines like snow under the sunlight. It fills your nostrils with familiar scents. Every December now feels like distant memories of a man you once knew, who loved to carve his dreams in wood.

a fallen bookmark on a thursday afternoon by @/cutaepatootie f s a

He came to you like the air comes into the train station after the fast arriving of the machine. It comes fast and unexpected, making you hoist your head to look at the long vehicle and the people inside. It is so fast you can’t even distinguish the different wagons. As the train comes to a stop, the wind that it creates plays with your hair, leaving you breathless. That’s how Jeon Jungkook came into your life.

every kind of way by @gukslut s

Three little vignettes, three completely different experiences, same perfectly wonderful boyfriend JK

heavy lifting by @snackhobi f

you work the night shift in a supermarket. and now your crush, aka the cutest boy in the world, aka the guy you’ve been thirsting after for months, aka jeon jungkook, works the night shift too.

blue orchid by @inkedtae f a

hanahaki & soulmate au

up to snow good by @aredheadedmess f a

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

cherry bomb by @milfgyuu f s

You’re a cocktail waitress in a high end nightclub and you’ve been mutually crushing on one of the bartenders. Tonight, one of your customers oversteps boundaries and when Jungkook gets involved, you’re ready to toss your ‘no dating co-workers’ policy out the window. 

work it out by @/choiwrites s

You never would have thought that you’d be working with the college dropout who was coincidentally your best friend’s ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Saying his name already burns your tongue, you wonder how long you can hold your professionalism around him.

all in by @iamjungkooked s a

Jeon Jungkook is everything you have ever desired in a partner. He’s kind, passionate, funny, honest, warm and every positive adjective in the dictionary. He totally gets you and you get him. He seems like the perfect guy for you, except he is dating your best friend. What could possibly go wrong?  OR  The four times you get the wind knocked out of you by Jeon Jeongguk

until my last breath by @/iamjungkooked s a

Sporting an undercut and tattoos Jeon Jungkook waltzes back in your life after 5 years of being away. You think you know him– and just when you think you have gotten close, he reveals a secret (or two). Following this, is a series of trials and tribulations that concludes in a way you never expect. (Alternatively: the one where Jungkook creates a mess out of you)

está dañada by @aquagustd f s a

life through the eyes of someone who watches you fall apart and helps gather the shards of your heart, only for you to make the same mistake time and time again, but he refuses to accept the truth because to him, you’re infallible.

coin toss by @yoondoze a

you and jeongguk go way back, even before you were the menacing duo many knew you to be, even before he brought you into the mafia and left you there to join the city’s detective agency. a call for cooperation comes out of a common enemy, requiring the two of you to reconcile for one last mission.

wonder by @bubmyg f a

romance novels lie about finding some deep epiphany in the ocean because you find your inspiration in some chlorine tainted red locks or where jeongguk isn’t smooth with a pool net. 

starboy by @sugaxjpg s

Jeon Jungkook was, above anything else, the type you should not get involved with. He was the guy who slept around; the guy who was gone before you woke up; who left a path of broken hearts and missed calls wherever he went. He was right in just about every wrong way. That being said, maybe the bet you made with your friend could be the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and even enough to break the chain of misfortune that circled your party nights — after all, it was all just a simple, four-part plan to make Jungkook beg for you. What could possibly go wrong?

symmetry by @adriftmoonchild s a

with both of you being from rival houses, the smirk that jungkook seemed to throw in your direction every shared class did nothing for your disdain towards him. as far as you were concerned he was arrogant and childish; you just wished he wasn’t so damn good in bed.

little surfer girl by @ppersonna f s a

every summer you watched jeon jungkook turn into a perfect, professional surfer.  every summer, you wanted him more. this summer, you were determined to make him yours.

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

[holybibly]

IT'S YOU |Woosan x reader| Part II

Part I If you haven't read it

Genre: smut, from friends to lovers!au, college!au

Word Count: 9.4k

Summary: Sometimes drunken decisions lead to the most unexpected results and the most shocking confessions. Or, after your boyfriend cheats on you, you propose a threesome to your best friends and it might just be what they have always wanted.

WARNING: only!18+ unprotected sex, Dom!San, Dom!Wooyoung, Sub!Reader, fingering, choking, degrading, pet names, spit kink, manhandling, threesomes, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, overstimulation and more.

Tag list: @staytiny816 @woosmaid @jiminssluttyminx @liknws @pearltinyy @haebaragisworld @bts-iris @bleachpolaroid @wisejudgedragonhairdo @ginger-coffee-addict @pricessthings @rockstarsanie @lilmackiee @minaizum1 @shotahime @vixensss @meljoongiee @ivsjake4evr @love-me-a-little @seonghwaddict @onmykneesforateez @meeitany

A/N: Okay, we're here. I couldn't be more excited. Really, they've got a lot going on and I hope you're all ready because it's gonna be intense, hot and messy. Seriously, I really appreciate everyone's feedback and consideration for this series. It's become one of the most popular things I've written, but it put some pressure on me, because I'm worrying about whether the second part would please you. Well, I think we'll see.

Enjoy the chapter, even though it's practically nothing but smut.

The third and final part! takes us back to where it all began, but not without an emotional roller coaster ride. By the way, I wanted to point out that T/N doesn't remember what she promised them a year ago. So don't be surprised by the plot changes in this issue. In the finale, we're sure to get a hot threesome.

I'm still learning how to write smut, so please be gentle with me.

Besides, I can't help but talk about the results of the poll. The majority vote was for Alpha/Beta/Omega!au, and honestly, it's one of the ideas I'm most excited about, and I was hoping it would be the winner. I look forward to your comments. In general, feel free to write me about anything.

dividers by @cafekitsune

Much love, everyone.

Now. The morning after graduation.

It's a late, lazy morning when you wake from a deep and well-earned sleep. You blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the bright golden light flooding the room, which refracted through your bedroom's stained glass. It was beautiful and annoying at the same time, just as Hongjoong himself, who had inspired you to do this.

You should have shaded the windows last night before you went to sleep, but that was the last thing you thought of as lying in bed between the restless, wet San's and Wooyoung's bodies. You were more preoccupied with the touch of their rough hands on your heated body, the warmth of their breath on tender skin, and the sounds of their hoarse moaning right by your ear.

They were an absolute mess, slowly driving you crazy. Emotions raged in your stomach, making you feel guilty, embarrassed and… lustful. You practically dozed off at dawn, when the boys managed to calm down a bit and fall into a deep sleep.

The apartment is incredibly quiet; you can't hear a single sound, and only the soft sniffle on your neck, with the feeling of warm breath dancing across your bare skin, breaks this peaceful silence.

Wooyoung is still fast asleep, clutching you in his arms like a favorite teddy bear, his leg wrapped possessively around your thigh as it always has been. Even when he was asleep, he couldn't bring himself to let you go for a second.

You ran the palm of your hand over the sheet and felt nothing but the cold under your fingers. Sannie has been awake for a while now, and for a moment you're annoyed by this fact. You wish that he was still in bed with you, soft and gentle as he always was. So that the three of you could spend this special morning together. The graduation robes are scattered all over the room in a mess of things, and all you want to do is push them further and further into the wardrobe and forget about them forever. The dog days are finally over. You are now official free.

Sensual, full lips touch the sensitive spot on your neck, and the sensation sends shivers down your spine. The throat is suddenly dry, sweat begins to form on your neck from the abruptly increase in desire, and you close your eyes tightly, aware of every touch and breath coming from Wooyoung more clearly than before. It's as if your whole body is completely focused on him, reacting to every fleeting movement and every sound with even more eager devotion.

You're still too receptive from last night, and you need more space to try and keep all those dirty, depraved thoughts from taking over and you. You studiously ignore the slight shiver of excitement that is happily tickling your breasts and causing the muscles in your lower abdomen to ripple in a pleasant way. You bite your lip to keep yourself from groaning in frustration as the images and sensations of the night flash in front of your eyes. You need to stop right now. It's too bad, but it's too sweet.

You start to wriggle, trying to get away from Wooyoung, who is still sleeping, but he just pulls you closer to his chest, as if he wants to dissolve into your body completely, and you melt.

Wooyoung has always been so insatiable and greedy for any kind of physical contact that you can offer him, like an adorable little puppy, that you can just wag your finger at him and he'll come running to you. He always had "too much space between you"; it was important to him to hold you constantly, to touch soft skin with his fingertips, to leave butterfly kisses in every possible place, to knead your thighs and squeeze waist possessively, to pull you so close that there wasn't a centimetre between you. You were his darling, soft and sweet girl in all the right places, and he just couldn't help himself.

San used to tell him that he was being a bit greedy and that he needed to learn how to share you with others. After all, sharing meant caring, and you were also his chagi.

Yes, you wanted to be taken care of, and that frightened you to the depths of your most forbidden fantasies. You wanted to be nervous about them; you wanted them to use you as they pleased, to make you take everything they had to offer, even if it destroyed you completely.

Your desire for them was more than you should have as friends. And that feeling had only grown stronger over the past year.

But despite Wooyoung's obsession and possessiveness, his touch always soothed you. He gave you the comfort you needed whenever you felt the need. And in the end, his hands would always nudge you in the direction of San, so that he could have his own moment of sharing with you. You were their own personal cuddly toy, and that was fine with you, because there was no place in the world where you could feel more protected and cuddly than in their arms.

But at the moment, you wanted nothing more than to get away from his touch and calm down your excitement. You'd been so needy since last night, and Wooyoung had only added to your frustration.

He's shirtless, his skin warm and smooth, and you can be sure it's golden like caramel where the sun has licked it. Delicious. You can almost taste him on the tip of your tongue, and suddenly you're tempted to sink your teeth into him for a taste, but you just bite down harder on your lower lip and stifle a moan.

You need to stop being so intensely... aware of him.

Maybe you were still drunk from the last night; after all, you couldn't remember exactly how many shots of tequila you'd consumed before dragging Yunho into the ladies' room to start kissing passionately. And you found yourself in an even more suggestive position with Seonghwa after another round of colourful, unnamed cocktails.

From then on, every innocent act made you feel lustful and hungry for intimacy.

Was it karma or something? You weren't sure, but you were more inclined to think that it was the lack of passionate sex you hadn't been having for a year now. You hadn't been able to find anyone suitable for a long-term relationship after you'd broken up with Suho, and boys-toys hadn't given you any pleasure.

You wanted more than ten minutes of gasping under the covers with awkward fingers poking into the pussy. They were cum faster than you were able to get yourself aroused. Pathetic.

You needed to satisfy that hunger that was eating you from the inside out, that oppressive feeling of emptiness inside you that could only be filled by a big dick that you could choke on for the rest of your life. A thick and long one, with visibly bulging veins, that could really hit all the sensitive places inside you, causing you to have orgasm after orgasm. And having not one but two perfectly matched options handy hasn't made things any easier.

If you offered to suck them off, Wooyoung's dick would be in your mouth in no time. He was always a fireball, passionate, and impatient, and San…San liked to play with his food before getting down to business. You were in awe of how perfect their dynamic was with such different personalities.

You wanted to see how attractive they would be when a warm throat closed around their cocks, when their beautiful faces were contorted with intense pleasure, and when you heard them moan out your name.

Damn it.

It's moments like these that make you realize that moving in with Wooyoung and San was the best and worst decision you ever made. Unless you count buying a pair of designer jeans that make your butt a magnet for people's hands.

The time went by far too quickly for your liking. It was easy to get lost in the succession of school days, week after week, punctuated by movie nights, spontaneous outings and a seemingly endless stream of student parties. Everything in your life changes. From the big renovation of your apartment, which was Hongjoong's job - he was still over the loss of his favourite vintage sofa - to the move in of San and Wooyoung. Things started to move at an even faster pace the day the boys dragged their suitcases into the dark space of your ultra-modern living room, to a general "You should have done this a long time ago".

It was a spontaneous and hasty decision. But what could have gone wrong? It's always been the three of you, and you had no idea that sharing space would have any effect on your relationship. God, how wrong you were. They played cat and mouse with you, testing your mettle and your patience. The memory of that moment is still so vivid in your mind.

"Come on, chagi, try it; it's quite tasty." San brought a spoonful of the dark green liquid, which Wooyoung proudly called the best hangover soup in the world, to your lips.

Jung Wooyoung and his ego, of course.

"Go ahead, baby; be good and open your mouth. It'll make you feel good, I  promise." That last sentence was full of innuendo, and it didn't take a genius to see it. In fact, everything that came out of Wooyoung's mouth was absolute filth.

He was practically purring in your ear, touching your delicate skin with every word, and you swear you could feel the touch of his tongue on your earlobe. Oh, fuck. His hands slid down your shoulders, deftly kneading the muscles that had gone stiff, his thumbs sliding up the vertebrae of your neck, and he dug a little bit into the hair at the back of your neck. In that moment, you were ready to do anything for him, whatever he asked.

"That's my Chagia, so docile and sweet." San would continue to feed you slowly with a spoon, smiling sweetly at you as if it were the most pleasant thing in the world to do. From time to time, he would wipe away the drops of liquid that ran down your lips with his thumb, as if in a romantic drama. You were perfectly capable of doing it yourself. But San's meaningful raised eyebrow made it clear that it was better to let him take care of you without resistance. San's language of love had always been to serve, and he took every opportunity to remind you of that.

The silence around you was nice and cozy—you'd even say relaxing—especially since you could still feel the humming bass of last night's music in your head. And all in all, you weren't feeling your best. Hell, that shit you drank last night was strong. This went on for a few more minutes until the plate in front of you was empty and Woo's face was pressed against your cheek in a cute puppy way. 

"Woo, and I wanted to talk to you about something, Y/N," San began, his voice suddenly becoming so sweet. He took your hand gently, his thumb stroking your knuckles lazily. He obviously wanted something from you.

"Sure, I'm all ears."

"We'd like to move in with you, peach, what do you think?" Wooyoung was pecking at your cheek, acting like a real sweetheart, but you knew every one of his tactics to get what he wanted.

"You're not going to get it if Woo keeps licking my cheek."

"But, Peach…" He whined, pursing his puffy lips in a resentful manner. Okay, he was cute as hell, but you were never going to tell him that.

"Chagi." You turned your attention back to San, who looked like he was confessing his love to you: Are this hearts in his eyes? Or are you still drunk?

"Agreed, we are practically living here anyway; I even have my own toothbrush in the bathroom. It's just a formality." He was awfully proud of it, squaring his shoulders and imagining himself under your gaze.

"We want to take care of you, baby."

And this is where you should have told them to fuck off and forget the way to your apartment, change the locks, and give San his toothbrush back. But whether it was the soft and somehow loving look of San's cat eyes paired with deep, sweet dimples or Wooyoung's gentle hands that started to knead your shoulders again in a languidly seductive way, you nodded affirmatively.

They were right; you were all practically living together. The amount of their stuff in your flat was unreal—the T-shirts you slept in, the perfume bottles left everywhere, study notes, games, pajamas and scarves, Wooyoung's luxurious leather jackets, and San's books—you could start a collection, but their stuff was just as much yours. It was also the constant cause of your and Suho's fights; he was always jealous of you and them, completely unaware of the dynamic between the three of you. They'd been glued to your thigh for years, and the fact that you had a boyfriend wouldn't change that. Narrow-minded prick.

"I think you're right. Let's give it a go."

"My little darling." San gave a dazzling smile, showing off his dimples even more, and pressed your hand to his lips. God, Choi San was a real menace. It was hard to believe that this pretty cat in front of you was none other than the one who was caught many times having rough sex in the middle of the university library. Once, he was even caught in a threesome, but you didn't want to point the finger at Wooyoung for putting him up to it.

"Yeah, that's our girl." Wooyoung pressed his lips to your cheek once more, salivating as much as he could along the way.

"Jung Wooyoung!" You squealed, wiping the drool from your cheek in disgust, but Woo was already happily scurrying into the living room, laughing loudly.

"We'll look after you, chagi."

That was San's last sentence before he ran his tongue over your hand, licked his fingers like a cat, and ran after Woo with an evil giggle.

"Choi San, come back at once!"

You are going to have so much fun here. Too much fun for your own good.

"Mmm… Peach, you are already awake." The soft touch of plump lips on your shoulder means that Wooyoung has woken up and wants to have your full attention.

"It has been some time. But I don't want to go anywhere. How are you feeling? Last night, when we came home, you and San were really drunk.

Wooyoung hugs you even tighter, nestling his face between your shoulder blades and taking a deep breath of your scent. Your skin is tickled by the tips of his long hair. A light touch on your lower back sends a jolt up your spine, making you arch slightly in his arms. Wooyoung is always like this; his defiant and needy attitude shouldn't be anything unusual for you, so you should stop reacting to him like this.

"Thank you for looking after us, peach. You're always so nice. Sannie and I don't deserve you." He kisses your neck. This time the touch lingers a little longer, and a feeling of excitement rises in your chest. "We haven't caused you any trouble, have we, little girl?" He purrs as he rubs his nose up against your shoulder. You couldn't help but notice how San's habits have become Wooyoung's habits, and vice versa. Now you have to put up with all that twin feline energy.

You turn to face him, and even after a night of sleeping with his hair tousled and without his usual cheeky grin, Wooyoung still looks pretty damn good. He's comfortable, a little sleepy, but no less seductive than he ever was. Woo has always had this sensual aura about him. Underneath the overt sexuality and the bitchy attitude, there was something else—something dark and seductive. You want to kiss him right now, so badly. Your hand runs through his silky hair, letting it fall in soft waves on either side of his face. Dark strands that are long enough to be pulled through easily. The world's handsomest boy.

It's all too easy to fall in love with him.

He kisses your palm playfully and pokes his nose into it like a cat hungry for affection, and you don't mind his purring with pleasure.

You wonder what he's going to sound like when he cums, God, you need to help yourself.

"Let me think." You run your fingers through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp. It's a deceptively gentle gesture before you pull hard on the roots of his hair, causing him to cry out in surprise.

"Oh, babe, why?" He purses his lips in offense, hoping you'll fall for his cute look. But you've known Wooyoung for years, and judging by the mischievous gleam in his eyes, he knew exactly what he was getting at.

"Firstly, you robbed me of my chance for great sex with your whining and dragging me home. Secondly, you behaved horribly when I tried to persuade you to take a shower and you kept me awake until the morning by clinging to me and fidgeting on the bed. Today I demand the royal treatment because you really messed up last night. This was not part of my plan for the prom at all."

Woo smiles back wickedly, practically baring his teeth in a wolfish grin.

"Peaches, are you really such a needy girl? Well, what are we going to do about it? San and I will have to do our best to make it up to you." He suddenly turns you over so that you are lying on your back, sandwiched between the mattress and his lithe body. Wooyoung is hovering over you, his hair falling all over your face, and you can't help but notice how sexy he looks in this position, which is annoying the hell out of you. He doesn't even have to try very hard to send you over the edge.

Strong hands are resting on the sides of your head, letting you enjoy the sight of the seductively bulging veins that run down his forearms. Fuck, you've always had a weakness for his hands, and who wouldn't when they look like this? Woo leans his head towards you until your noses touch, like a predator cornering his prey.

"Baby, I have my doubts that you'll be satisfied with anyone, so don't sulk. And you know Sannie and I will have to approve of someone running their fingers down your knickers." He smiles broadly at you, clearly enjoying your annoyance when you roll your eyes at him.

"Jung Wooyoung, stop it!" Your hand leaves an angry red mark on the bare skin of his chest, and he grunts. It will take all the patience in the world not to beat him to death or kiss him. "I swear I'll wash your mouth out with soap someday." Or maybe you'll lick him from the inside out. "And stop sticking your pretty little nose where you shouldn't. You don't have to worry about who I'm gonna fuck."

"So what if it bothers me? What are you going to do with it, Peach?" He bites his lips in anticipation and raises an eyebrow in expectation, as if he were challenging you to go on.

The way that smug look is on his face makes you feel a little pissed off. You get a little cocky and decide to use the same tactic he did. Wrapping your hands around his face, you're pulling him even closer, resting him on your forearms and your lips nearly touch. He has siren eyes that are deep and mesmerising, and the intensity of his gaze causes your cheeks to flush and you to bite down on your lower lip. The gleam in his fox eyes is proof that he is enjoying every second of your little game.

"Seonghwa kisses you like he's fucking your mouth with his tongue, it's fucking heaven and you can do whatever you want with that fact, baby. I would have ridden him like a stallion in front of everyone last night if it wasn't for you and San's drunken arses". You push him off of you, and Wooyoung rolls over to the other side of the bed as you sit up.

There's something in the air, and you feel you've said something wrong, judging by the way Wooyoung's eyes are flashing with an emotion you can't quite describe. It's a weird mix between anger, envy, desire and something else. But whatever it is, it is making your pussy clench in anticipation of it.

Damn, when did you start thinking with what's between your legs instead of your brain?

He stares at you intently, as if he's trying to decide whether he's going to scold you or fuck you senseless. As lust flashes through his languid onyx eyes like a shooting star, fast but unmistakable, and his pink tongue flicks out to wet his swollen lips, Wooyoung knows exactly what he's going to do to you.

You reach out to stroke his shoulder, and just as you expected, his skin is the most delicious shade of caramel. You can't help but want to run your tongue all over it.

Oh, shit. Now would be a good time to remind yourself: He's your best friend.

"Where`s San?" He asks you.

The expression on his face is, for the most part, neutral, with just a slight hint of lust and anticipation. He slowly licks his delicious lips and looks at you with bedroom eyes. You feel the warm moisture building up between your thighs. If he keeps looking at you like that, you're going to make a puddle of lust where you're sitting right now. You squeeze your thighs tighter to keep the liquid from dripping shamefully onto the bed, praying to all the gods that Wooyoung won't notice.

"I don't know. He wasn't in the bed when I woke up."

"Good."

What the hell is 'GOOD'? You need to collect your thoughts and leave this stuffy room, but the way Wooyoung's eyes slide over your body before, and slowly sucking his lower lip tells you there's nowhere to run. 

"Come to me, sweetheart; I want you in my arms." He is stroking himself on his thigh, the silk fabric of his pajamas leaving no room for imagination as it outlines the taut muscles of his gorgeous thighs. His legs are spread a little wider to draw your attention to where he wants you now, and you can clearly see the imprint of his thick dick through the fabric. Damn. It's completely hard, and you can't help but notice how big it is.

His actions send signals straight to the nerves that control your cunt. The wet heat is running between your legs and your arousal is increasing. A palpable shiver runs through all body as you squirm and writhe under the intensity of his gaze.

The rational part of you is literally beating in a hysterical frenzy. It's your hope that your stupid brain will realise the full implications of what's happening, and that you'll be able to put a stop to it. Even if the boundaries of your friendship were highly questionable, you were friends. While the evil voice in the back of your head was cheering you on: "C'mon, what's the bad that can happen?"

He was inviting you, and who were you to refuse? Not that you wanted to.

They'd go crazy if San and Wooyoung knew what thoughts and fantasies lived in your head every day. Huh. They had no idea their sweet chagia had such a dark and dirty mind. You take a deep breath.

Screw it.

You slowly crawl across the bed towards him. He watches you with a squinting, predatory look on his face until one of your legs has been thrown across his body and you're almost sitting on top of him. Almost, as your thighs struggle to keep you in that rigid position, but apparently Woo wasn't in the mood, and his broad palms force your hips down so you're sitting all the way in his lap. Before you realise what you're doing, you're pinned against his crotch, his hard cock touching your aching clit as you move against him, demanding physical stimulation. The contact was so good that it sent a shiver down your spine, and you almost moaned at the tiny moment of pleasure it gave you. Damn, it was massive—so thick you started salivating in your mouth. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You're up to your neck in shit. 

"There you are, starlight, in my hands." His voice, once so high and soft, was now hoarse and deep. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you even closer to him, so that there was hardly any space between the two of you. "Baby girl, are you still upset about Seonghwa?" It's a nickname he rarely uses, and it sends an electric shock through your lower abdomen, triggering a feeling you're not sure you can control right now. He leans in close to you and presses his wet lips against the side of your ear. "Tell me what I can do to stop you being angry with me."

"Kiss me, make me feel good." The evil little voice in the back of your head chimes in with glee. "Blow my brains out until my head feels empty and light." It says.

A whole new sensation takes over. Your body starts to heat up in anticipation of what is to come. Then the room will seem to shrink and the air will fill with a tension and a desire.

"I don't know. You've really pissed me off." You look up at him through your impossibly thick lashes, your lips in a fake pout. You weren't the innocent one; you could have played just as badly as they did. "You'll have to try harder, pretty boy." You let your finger nails run down the length of his neck. Wooyoung tilts his head back to reveal a chin line that could have been carved from the finest marble.

As his hands lazily caress your thighs, lifting your T-shirt higher and higher, your skin burns under his palms. Damn, he's scalding you.

The wetness between your legs is becoming more and more intense as the conversation goes on and on. Your juices seep through the thin lace of your panties, dripping from your pussy, leaving little dark streaks on the silk of his trousers where they touch your thighs. The air between you crackles with tension and desire; you feel yourself sweating; you're so hot and needy; and Wooyoung is no help at all.

His aura is one of dominance, and you swallow in anticipation. A storm is about to break and you don't want to be safe.

"I'll do whatever you want me to do for you, Y/N."

You're done for.

"Then kiss me, stupid boy, make me feel good."

He growls back at you, embracing you on the back of the head and practically forcing your faces together. The palm of his hand clenches possessively on the back of your neck with palpable pain, and the sound that comes out of you is something between a sob and a moan. With the sudden movement, you feel yourself pressing even harder against his dick, and it sends a pleasurable pulse through your clit.

Wooyoung presses his forehead against yours and your lips are just a breath away from each other.

You stare back at him without blinking. His eyes are half closed as he watches you in silence, like a tiger stalking its prey, ready to pounce with its jaws clenched. It is in a low, dangerously calm tone that he speaks. "Are you sure this is what you want to do, baby girl? I'm biting." It's mixed with your sighing and seductive lips, and you can barely make out the words.

"P-please…"

His moan is loud, guttural, and mildly painful, and then…

O MY GOD.

Those soft lips are pressed hard against yours in an urgent, hungry kiss. His mouth is insistent and demanding, his thumb digging into the skin of your neck, turning the touch into a rough grip, and his tongue gliding along the bottom of your lip. Slowly, as he pulls your lips apart, he moves in quickly, and you shudder at the sensual sensation as he runs his tongue over the roof of your mouth and licks your teeth. It should have been dirty and rough, but instead you find yourself moaning with wanton need.

"Wooyoung..." The moan of his name was so desperate, so needy, so full of lust and desire.

"Goddamn, I love it when you say my name."

He kisses you with renewed ferocity, biting your lips almost to the point of bleeding. Wooyoung is too passionate; he licks your mouth with his tongue, and literally shoves it down your throat. He kisses you like he's dying of thirst and you're the only way to make him drink. Spittle runs down your chin, it's wet and dirty, but you can't stop, you don't want to stop. Wooyoung's tongue is practically fucking you in the mouth.

And God, you want more. It feels unreal, too extreme to be a reasonable response to a kiss, the heat between your legs, your clit throbbing with need, your nerves on fire.

Wooyoung lets go of you for a moment and you stare at him with your eyes wide open. Your heart is pounding wildly and your breathing is so ragged that you're practically choking to death. Licking away any remnants of the kiss you shared, his wet pink tongue pokes out from between his plump lips.

His hand slides down your face, cupping your chin and tilting your head slightly so that your eyes meet his, his gaze clouded with lust as if his fingers were digging deep inside you. You can't say a word as a wicked smile spreads across his sharp, enchanting face.

Now you have a better understanding of all those damsels who are ready to spread their legs at the flick of his fingers.

"Tell me you want more, baby. I have a feeling this apology isn't enough. I need to do more than that. I'm so desperate for forgiveness.

"Don't I need to be forgiven too, Woo? You shouldn't be so greedy. That voice, oh shit.

You turn sharply around and find yourself staring into San's beautiful cat eyes. He's so damn good-looking you swallow a groan. It must be illegal for someone to look this good in normal jeans and a plain black shirt. But San had a body worth dying over.

A real girl's dinner.

What the hell are you going to do now? How long had he stayed there?

"San-ah… how…" You find yourself stuttering. Your mouth dries up and you can't utter a word, but even if you could, your brain can't form coherent thoughts. You can't bring yourself to look away from him, and something deep inside you knows that he will punish you if you try.

"What is it, Gongjunim? Did the cat eat your tongue?" He raises an eyebrow at you, a shit-eating grin playing at the corners of his lips. As if in mockery, his soft, patronising tone of voice slides over your skin. San combines a sensual, gentle nature with a seductive one that makes you feel he's looking for a weakness before pouncing. His fucking duality. One moment he's a little sweetheart, the next he's a lecherous demon who wants to sink his teeth into your throat and devour you. "Come on, Chagia, I promise I won't disappoint you; I'm very good at excuses."

Responding to his sultry purr, your pussy clenches shamefacedly.

The excitement of it all makes your brain feel like mush and sets your skin on fire.

You start squirming in Wooyoung's arms, and now that San's here, you belatedly realise what you've gotten yourself into. Is it time for a change of scenery or something? No, you want to stay. Desperately.

You need them to blow your brains out, to make you dumb and submissive and a pretty little toy for them to play with. Sometimes you have to stop before you cross the line, but where is the line when you're literally sitting on your best friend's hard cock?

Hell, you don't know what you're supposed to do - run or beg - but you clearly know what they want to do to you, judging by Wooyoung's dick twitching between your thighs and San slowly licking his lips as he looks at your bare ass peeking out from under your shirt. His shirt.

There must be some kind of telepathic connection between Wooyoung and San. After a few seconds of intense eye contact, San pulls his T-shirt over his head, tosses it aside and slowly walks over to you. The grin on his face seems to have changed; it has become even darker than before. Hungrier.

And you don't think this is a good time to start drooling. But damn it, you want to lick him from head to toe.

Between the three of you, there's a chaos of emotion and desire. It's mixed with adrenaline and a distant fear of what's going to happen. There has to be an end to this game of predator and prey, and why not do it now? Sighing, you finally give in.

In the morning, you'll consider the consequences.

"Maybe you should kiss me too, San-ah, and I'll start thinking about forgiving.

Hot lips instantly press an open, wet kiss to your shoulder. The bed buckles under the weight of another man's body. San's strong arms are wrapped around your waist and his fingers clench your t-shirt into a fist. He's hot, warm and hard, and you can feel the hardness of his dick through your trousers as he presses down hard against you. His mouth is sucking, biting and licking your skin as if his life depended on it. Sharing an understanding look with Wooyoung, San slides his lips higher up your body.

"Sannie…" Before planting a hot kiss on your neck, you whimper as his teeth sink into your sensitive flesh.

The moan that comes from the back of your throat is so deep that for a moment you wonder if it's coming from you at all.

Pure pleasure shoots through you as you feel Woo's long tongue on the other side of your neck. He lets out the sexiest moan deep in his throat, as if he's having the time of his life, savouring every second of the way his lips explore the nape of your neck. You're distracted. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as he pulls the skin between his lips, leaving a purple hickey on the back of your neck.

"Oh, my God, boys."

"That's my darling, Chagia." His voice is sultry and seductive, and you can clearly hear the saturi again, as it tends to do at times when San is in a highly aroused state.

"You're so beautiful, my peach." Wooyoung whispers to you, and you just melt away completely.

You whimper as Woo begins to run his hands up and down your thighs and arse, squeezing and pulling. He mooed softly as you made little circular movements with your hips and rubbed his cock against you. Woo punishes you by slapping your bottom if you cuddle too hard. You'll need to be obedient as they play with you.

The sound fills the room along with the collective moaning of Wooyoung's and San's.

"What a dirty little girl you are. I think you need to be taught how to obey." Woo spanks you a few more times and you wiggle your hips in an impatient way.

It feels so good.

San pulls your t-shirt up to your breasts while all your attention is focused on Wooyoung. Your little thong is completely transparent and does nothing to hide your sex or the excitement building within you. They are practically digging into your needy pussy because of the position you are now in. A chorus of gasps and moans can be heard from your best friends as their eyes focus on that big, wet spot. San's greedy hands press you even closer to his body, so that you can feel his full erection on top of your plump, bare bum.

"You're so fucking wet." Wooyoung hisses. "Like a bitch leaking just thinking about our cocks in your tight little cunt. We'll destroy you, Peach."

Before you realise what's happening, Woo's hands slide down your back, your nipples tensing in the cool open air. The soft fabric of your t-shirt falls to the floor, and suddenly, hot wetness envelops your left nipple and he sucks hard on it, the pressure causing pain that turns to pleasure as his tongue touches the hard bud. Your head immediately falls back onto San's shoulder as you open the soft space of your throat to his insatiable mouth. You let out a long groan, and your hand rests on Wooyoung's head, tugging lightly at the soft lengths of his hair.

You feel like you could explode at any moment, even though they haven't done anything to you yet. You're burning, almost feverish, as the growing fire between your thighs reaches unbearable levels. You can't breathe; your skin is hypersensitive. Your head tilts to the side, and you whimper San's name in the most pathetic intonation possible. His hand slides lower and lower, past your waist and your stomach, to the place where you most want to feel him. It hasn't even come close to touching your pussy yet, but the thought of it is enough to make you squirm with excitement.

His hands move down low enough to touch the skin of your naked legs and up slowly, frantically, until he reaches where you are starting to get aroused. The palm of his hand encircles your pussy in a possessive way, the small mound of flesh lying so perfectly in the palm of his hand. You tremble a little at this, and try to spread your legs wider so that his fingers can rub against the moist slit, so that he can dive in between the warm folds until your pussy spreads out beautifully for him, so that he can rub your clit with ease.

"Mmm… what a wet little thing. I bet my Gongjunim has the most beautiful pussy I have ever seen in my life. Fleshy, shiny, and pink - just the way I like it. He gasps for breath. He puts his hands on your hips and rubs his hard cock against the curve of your ass a couple of times. "Do you feel that, Chagia? No one can make me as hard as you can." On your skin, his breath feels like fire. Hoping for a little more friction, you arch your backside. The gesture reveals a hiss from his side.

San's fingers, one tempting back and forth with a feathery touch, spread the excitement building in your slit beneath the thin material. Your pussy clenches around nothing at all in the most uncomfortable way, and you know that he can feel it.

"Do you like this chagi? Wooyoung's mouth on your full, pretty tits? My fingers on your sweet little snatch?" San's tone is almost mocking. His tongue is licking his lips; his fingers continue to stroke your clothed pussy in a leisurely manner; and he watches intently as Wooyoung literally chokes on your breasts. "We are gonna fuck you until you squeal like the slutty little bitch you are." He growls into your ear, and the sound of it makes you pull on Woo's hair with all your might.

And you always had the impression that Wooyoung's mouth was dirty.

A soft moan slips out of the brunette's swollen lips, which are now wrapped so tightly around your nipple that you're sure they're going to leave a mark on it. As he pulls back with an audible pop, you let out a small sound as you look at his ecstatic face. His eyes are half closed, his eyelids flutter slightly and a beautiful flush of colour has appeared on his cheeks. His plump lips are glistening with the saliva and the service he is giving to your tits.

"Are you feeling good, peach?" He chuckles weakly as he watches you fall apart in San's skilled hands, leaving you as beautiful as ever in his eyes. Woo gives your nipple a hard pinch, only to then let his tongue run over it. The sudden change in sensation causes your head to begin to spin, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure.

"Please… I need… more… Youngiee." You stammer out the words, your voice shaking and your body trembling.

"You look so pretty when you beg. But do you want to know something, сhagi? You'll look even more beautiful with your cunt stretched around my dick. I will ravage your tiny pussy, Gongjunim. I'm going to make you mine." San finally kisses you; though it's hard to call it a kiss, he dives into your lips like a hungry man, sucking them so deeply and passionately, with an insistence that you don't even think you'll ever understand.

His tongue is merciless as he explores every millimeter of the inside of your mouth. This kiss is heavenly, and with every second that passes, you find yourself wanting more, wanting him to spoil you in every way that he can. To have his way with you until you have no more patience. And it is these thoughts that make you wriggle in Wooyoung's arms. You try to rub your thighs together, hoping to relieve the unbearable heat inside you.

"The taste is so damn good."

You can feel Woo squeezing your breasts almost in sync, his warm tongue sliding over the plump flesh once more, licking at the aroused nipples, and his teeth scratching the sensitive skin with the lightest of touches. You savour the lightning bolts of pleasure that the two of them cause to bounce around your body. It's almost painful, but you know you're loving this.

Half gasping, half squealing at the sheer, blunt pressure of San's nimble, kneading fingers finding their way to your labia through the mesh of the thong. Your lower abdomen clenches in a reflexive spasm, and your hands are sticky with sweat as you grasp the wrist of his hand.

"Oh, your pussy is so sensitive, isn't it, Chagia?" San cooed with feigned tenderness, and with a strange sadism, he pressed his middle finger against your cunt, sliding it right over the spot where your clit was, causing your hips to shake. The lubrication of your arousal made it much more effective for him to stimulate you, and he would literally bring you to orgasm with minimal effort. He purred softly as you responded, like a big cat purring, and just when you thought he couldn't fuck with your sanity even more, he turned his head and spat on your lips, a glob of saliva dribbling into your open mouth and you choked out a moan.

It's so rough and dirty, but your body responds the best it can, arching into his arms and pressing your breasts even harder against Wooyoung's face.

The brunette moans in response and lifts his foxy eyes to you. You can see the corner of his lips curl into a smirk before he bites down hard on your nipple. Fuck, your life will never be the same. And they haven't even got around to fucking you properly yet. It's like heaven and hell at the same time.

"I want to hear you whimper, Gongjunim." San's hand grips the back of your neck very tightly, causing you to gasp for breath from the sudden lack of air. Your eyes begin to roll up at the possessive touch of his hand on your throat, and you begin to jerk your hips, your clit pressing against Wooyoung's cock, and he lets out a long, hard moan.

"Please, Sannie." You're breathing out.

"Look at her, San, our girl, slobbering like a brainless slut." Wooyoung wipes the viscous saliva from your parted lips, then pushes his fingers into your mouth with a sharp, deep thrust. For a second you choke and begin to gurgle around the long phalanges.

He hadn't removed the rings yesterday and now the heavy metal makes your tongue feel cold. "Think of the way my dick is fucking your little throat, starlight. Suck it hard." You wheeze and gurgle, your saliva bubbling at the corners of your lips, but you have done exactly as you have been told.

It was rough, it was horrible and it was so wet that it was almost disgusting to watch. But Woo enjoyed it; he literally raped your mouth with his fingers in a sort of sadistic sense. A few thick strands of saliva would stick to your swollen lips as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth.

"Look at you. Taking my fingers in your mouth like that. Such a good girl."

This whole game has been nothing more than a distraction from the main action. There's a short circuit in your body as a sharp sensation pierces every nerve in your body. San suddenly slaps you hard on your wet pussy, the contact sending sparks of pain and pleasure flying across your skin, and you let out a squeal.

"Oh my God. Oh, my God. I'm going to… I'm going to…" You go over the edge as you feel your juices pouring down your legs, your vaginal muscles contracting, forcing more fluid to pour out of you, the combination of their names coming weakly from your lips as your orgasm washes over your weakened limbs.

"Fuck, Peach is so hot… You're squirting." You belatedly realise that Wooyoung is also cumming as he throws his head back in pleasure, his eyes rolling up and his mouth opening in a long, whimpering moan.

You can hardly catch your breath when you feel San rest his chin on your shoulder, his grip tightening around you, whispering in your ear.

"One more gongjunim; give me one more orgasm and then I'll caress you."

"Ah, San." The searing sensation of his fingers roughly pinching your clit through the wet material of your thong causes you to cry out hoarsely in agony. The sound of your wet, sensitive cunt splashing was clear and vivid; the sensation was brutal, but so indescribable you were ready to faint from pleasure.

He's going to tear you apart.

"Cum for me, Chagia. I know you can do it. Sperm for us; make Youngie and me proud of you".

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you swore that your cunt was on fire, your whole body shuddering in electrifying spasms of pleasure that made your toes curl up and your thighs shake. San's hand was still firmly around your throat, holding your head upright as you had your orgasm.

It had shattered you so badly that the fall seemed dramatic, and you went completely limp as the orgasm dissipated, turning you into an inconsolable, whimpering, disorderly mass.

They had blown your brains out.

"There you are, Gongjunim, I got you. You did so well." San muttered, but your mind was too tired to admit it. Amused at how angry and lost you looked, you saw stars as Wooyoung's hand tilted your head to the side in a teasing way to look at your confused face.

"You're no longer angry with us, are you, Peach?"

San removes his hand from your throat and allows Wooyoung to pull your face up to his own. Gentle fingers caress your cheekbones and soft lips wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks. At one point, you didn't even realise you were crying. It's such a contrast to his previous behaviour; here he is your usual adored Jung Wooyoung, a little clingy, a little annoying and with an unrealistic maternal instinct. Your best friend.

Fuck. Now it is time for you to start crying for the real time. You begin to sob, pushing Wooyoung away from you in a desperate attempt to get out of his arms. You can feel the wetness underneath you and it makes you feel worse and worse. You need to get out of here now. Your behaviour frightens them to death and San's hands are on your body again, squeezing your shoulders gently.

"Stop, stop for a second, Y/N. It's all right, Chagia. We have you."

You freeze at the sound of your name, like a deer caught in the headlights.

In anticipation of his next move, your whole body tenses like a string. Wooyoung's fingers intertwine with yours. It's a familiar gesture, so familiar to you, so ordinary, so perfected over the years of your friendship. San lets you go when he realises you're not going anywhere, and his face comes to rest next to Wooyoung's as you look at him.

He's handsome, too, to the point of madness, and trembles at the knees. His cheeks are flushed. There's still a lingering gleam of lust and excitement in his eyes, but with a touch of strange emotion. His plush lips are soft and swollen from all the kissing, and his body glistens with sweat. And the reason he looks like that is because of you. You look at Wooyoung and see that he looks exactly the same, but the emotion in his eyes is more obvious than ever.

You want to crawl off his lap and cower in shame in the corner of the room so you don't have to look at all that tenderness and loveliness in his foxy eyes. You can handle his cheeky, flirtatious backside with ease, but this kind of Wooyoung is new territory for you.

"We… shit. This shouldn't have happened. This is the first rational thought to come out of your mouth all day. And you should have said it a lot sooner, before your two best friends made you cum twice with a squirting orgasm.

"Chagia, I think there's something we need to talk about, but first let's get you back to your normal self."

You don't argue; just nod and realize that San is absolutely right. You look like a complete mess, covered in saliva and lubricant. You can feel Wooyoung's cum seeping through the fabric of his pajama bottoms and drying on the inside of your thigh.

You look fucked.

"Yes, I think we have a lot to talk about."

It sounds terribly stupid, but what else can you say? Can we forget it? Or can we fuck again?

All your years of sexual longing for them have turned into a resounding slap in your face.

"Go take a bath, Peach, and we'll talk. San and I will take care of the rest."

For some reason, this sentence gave you a vague feeling of déjà vu. But you pushed the thought out of your head as quickly as it had come.

"Okay."

You finally slide off Wooyoung's lap, ignoring their stares at your almost naked body, there's no point in covering up or acting like a shy maiden, San's fingertips were rubbing your pussy just five minutes ago, bringing you to some kind of crazy orgasm, and the entire lower half of Woo's body is drenched in your secretions. If you've ever wanted to imagine how your friendship would turn out, this is it.

You trudge to the bathroom on your tired legs, pulling off your disgustingly wet thong on the way and throwing it on the floor. You turn on the light, turn on the tap and the whole room is immediately filled with the warm steam of hot water. Outside the door you can hear the muffled voices of the boys, who seem to be having some sort of heated argument, judging by San's irritated moaning and Wooyoung's loud whining.

You don't want to go into details; you still have time to destroy yourself. Your eyes catch sight of your reflection in the mirror. Tomorrow has come much earlier for you, if the fucked-up look on your face is any indication. Dishevelled hair, hickey marks, bruises and swollen lips from biting. What a beautiful morning after graduation!

"Wooyoung, you should have waited for me." San's voice is much louder now.

"As if I'm the only one who fucked her. Don't try to tell me it's all my fault."

You still don't want to join the conversation.

A pink, glistening puddle of something that smells like candy spreads across the bathtub. Thanks to Mingi, you have a whole collection of these colourful bombs. He's always had a soft spot for all things cute and charming, and he's taken every opportunity to spoil you to death with them.

With a tired sigh, you take another look at yourself in the mirror. So, Peach, are you ready for the consequences?

Turning away from your reflection, you lock the door with a click.

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 | 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧 ♡

【Synopsis】 : The boys were going to teach you a simple game of pool. Nothing more, nothing less... right?

『Word count』 : 3.9k

-> Genre: Smut. Dark Romance. Supernatural.

Pairing: Vampire!WooSanSang x Human!Reader

[Warnings] : Flirting. Dirty talk. Slight innocent reader. Foursome. Lowkey free use. Dub-con ish, but the reader is into it. Everything is just new for her. Mxm. Manhandling. Blood drinking, biting. Wounds. Whimper kink? Swearing. Clit play. Yeosang fucks her without really asking but the reader is into it. Unprotected sex. Multiple orgasms. Pet names including [Doll, Baby, Pet, Sir, Darling. Pretty thing] Use of the word slut. I shit on religion for a second, so I’m sorry if anyone is religious.

Note: Fun fact I found out that pool tables were invented back in 1470, so I felt like I had to add it aha.

Also hi I'm uploaded two fic in one night. I know crazy right?! Well, I've been really wanting to just post all my work. i got in the drafts, but im pacing myself, hehe. So this is just a little ... gift? Idk ahah i just could help, but post two tonight. Enjoy ♡♡

"Oh, my body, I don't wanna stop until the break of dawn"

Masterlist | Nav | Chapter Three | Series List | Buy Me A Ko-fi

When you finally woke, you noticed Seonghwa had left the bed. There was a small note on the bedside table with a little heart next to your name written in black ink. You smiled sleepily, stretching slowly in the spacious bed. You’ve never had a better sleep in years, if not ever. Your small single bed that was tattered and moulding was all you’d ever known, and now you had a bed fit for a king. It was almost strange, bittersweet in a way. You felt like you were always supposed to end up here. With them. Like fate was etched in stone way before you were even of age. You had wondered if they felt the same way, as you made your way through the halls once again. It became quite easy to move around the manor now that you’ve explored a bit. You had slipped on a tunic and pants of various shades of purple and black that were sitting on the end of your bed.

“I see you’ve made yourself quite at home, pet.” You shivered at the sound of Yeosang's velvet voice. Glancing above, you see him leaning on the railing of the mezzanine, a sly smirk on his delicate features.

“She’s like a curious kitty isn’t she.” Another voice caught your attention looking towards the doorway of the billiard room you see a feline feature man. San... His dark hair and sharp yellow glowing eyes make your heart thump in anticipation. Strange? you thought. They were all vampires as far as you knew, so why were his eyes such a deep sunset yellow?

“We got to get that staring problem under control, Darling.” You jumped hearing the high-pitched man, Wooyoung right behind you, whispering in your ear. 

“I w-was not staring.” You shake your head, turning around to see all three men now standing around the pool table. San had picked up a pool stick, putting some blue chalk to dab on the end of the said stick. You watched as all three of them took a pool cue and chalked them up, curious at what they might be up to. You had never seen a pool table up close, let alone see anyone play before. You’ve only ever read about it in fancy books or heard it from the richer folk in the village. “A-are you going to play a game?”

Your words sounded flinching like you were some peasant girl asking the higher for a slice of knowledge. But in truth weren’t you just that? “We are most definitely going to be playing a game Darlin’ and you are going to be the price.”

Wooyoung’s words made you gulp, standing there awkwardly playing with the hem of your tunic. San walked over to you while Yeosang set up the balls in the triangle. San’s fingers grazed your chin before lifting your face to look at him. His smile was softer this time, unlike how it was border-lining lust prior. “Don’t worry, Pretty thing. We won’t go too hard on you. Well, Yeosang might, if you’re not too careful.”

You visibly gulp feeling a tingle in your tummy. What could he possibly be insinuating? Your mind was racing, thinking of all the possibilities, slightly thanking Jongho was not here to read your lusting thoughts. You were about to say something, but then Wooyoung came up behind San, pushing him aside so he could give you a pool cue. “I don’t know how to p-play.”

“It’s okay, darling. We will teach you.” Wooyoung’s chippy voice eased your heart slightly. And as you watched Wooyoung start to bicker with Yeosang, who would start the game. You couldn’t help but giggle. For Monsters, they sure act like teenagers. Immature and… youthful. 

“Okay okay, Woo, get over here. Let Sangie Break.” The feline yelled over all the bickering. The nicknames he gave the other males made your heart flutter. In the next few minutes, the three vampires took their turn, trying to get a ball in the hole. Until finally, San got a stripe in making Wooyoung whine. 

“How do you always manage to score first.” Wooyoung was disappointed about his lover winning, shifting his weight around as he stomped over to the bar that was sitting across a billiard table. He grabbed out four short glasses and began pouring an amber-coloured liquor in each one. You could hear mumbles around you, most likely San and Yeosang badgering about something again, but you couldn’t focus on them. Only looking straight at the shorter male, curiously watching him take a shot of the liquid before taking the other full glass and shotting it.

“Pet did you hear anything we said?” Yeosang's presence behind you caught your attention, noting the way his shoulder bumped into you lightly. You shook your head with a little sorry before taking a breath, suddenly blurting out.

“I didn’t think vampires could eat or drink human food.”

The situation reminded you about how you shared a meal with all of them a night ago. You were so out of it, and floating in your mind, you didn’t really take notice that they were, in fact, consuming food. Cooked cow, vegetables, rich sauces, and wines. It was always written in history books and the words of your church that no hellspawn beasts like night crawlers were able to consume and dine on earthy foods. Only craving and needing the taste of blood to sustain themselves. 

San had to try very hard not to laugh at your innocence. Wooyoung had a cheeky smirk on his face, placing the glass on the brim of the pool table, speaking up on your question. “Oh, we do not have to eat or drink to stay alive if that’s what you’re asking. And drinking does nothing for us unless we drink an entire Alehouse. But it does take the edge off for us a little bit.” He downed his drink like he did before, some of the alcohol dripping down his chin. San, within seconds, moved from one end of the table to where Wooyoung stood. His speed created a little wind pocket that blew against your face, making you shiver. San’s hand cupped Wooyoung’s chin, drawing his face upwards. San then opened his mouth, letting his freakishly long tongue slide out onto the younger's neck, licking up the liquor he had spilt.

You gulp, looking away to see Yeosang staring at you intensely with a smirk. He bit his lip before chuckling “God I wished I could read minds. I bet you’re thinking about the filthiest things right now.” He moved to stand in front of you, making you take a step back until you were trapped against the pool table and his broad body. “Such a cute little pet, with such a dirty little mind.”

“W-Wha...I…” You didn’t know what to say cause in truth you couldn’t help but think vulgarly around them. They were all so attractive, and it was like some kind of drug being near them. You looked back to San and Wooyoung, seeing San now had his tongue down the other man's throat, and you couldn’t help but whine. What you didn’t realize was that from looking away from Yeosang, you bared your neck to him, making him growl. “You should never show off your neck to vampires unless you want them to bite you, baby.”

Your eyes widened at his words. But you couldn’t react fast enough. It was like your body became a ragdoll as he moved you with the speed of light. Your back hit the table with a thud, legs spread with Yeosang’s body in between them and his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers squeezed his shoulders as you felt his sharp fangs run along your hot skin. “S-Sangie…”

“Hmm using my nickname is only gonna make me want to fuck you, pet.” his nose brushed down your main vein, letting him breathe in your scent sharply. You were the sweetest thing he had ever smelt. 

“Sangie.” You repeated suddenly, reaching tighter for Yeosang’s large shoulders, lacing the fabric of his dress shirt in your fingers. The vampire just chuckled, kissing along your hot skin. You wiggled against him, feeling his crotch twitch beneath the layers of cloth that separated you both. “Please.”

“Ooo, She begs. My favourite.” Yeosang’s fangs grazed your neck, making your heart thump harder. You felt like your whole body was on fire, and every nerve was being consumed with nothing but Yeosang. His scent, his dark deep chuckles. The way his fingers glide along your body. 

Him. 

While his hands played with the fabric on your clothing. You turned your head to look back at where Wooyoung and San were, but the in a blink of an eye, they vanished. 

“Don’t get this party started without us.” San’s voice frightened you as he was suddenly at the other end of the table, leaning over to give your forehead a light little kiss. Wooyoung, however, was now standing next to Yeosang, pushing your right leg opened wider so both men could stand in between them. “I can smell her from over there.”

“I know, our little slut is getting nice and wet from us teasing her.” Yeosang spat out such a foul name at you but it only made you whimper more. No way in your wildest dreams would you have ever suspected your life would end up with being sprawled out on a pool table with three Vampire, kiss and lick parts of your body that weren’t covered by your clothing.

Sinful. Hellborn. A daughter of Lilith. Words from your mother came flooding in your mind like little flashes of a candle flame blowing in the wind. Maybe she was right. Maybe she saw your future before you even knew it.

“F-fuck I need a taste,” Wooyoung whined, tugging at your pants, but what you didn’t expect was him to lift up the loose pant leg, exposing your right thigh. Yeosang pulled up your tunic, drawing his tongue out onto your hot skin. And finally, San, the last one, lifted your wrist to his nose, inhaling sharply before opening his mouth to suck on the soft flesh.

“I’d take a deep breath If I was you, pet,” Yeosang grunted with a sly smirk, making you let out a large gasp. You felt all three of them sink their teeth into you in a sudden snap, almost synchronised. The crunch of broken skin echoed in the room before ringing in your ears. You could feel their addictive vampiric venom pouring into your veins while they emptied you of blood. The euphoric feeling of being drained was indescribable. Like floating on a cloud, feeling the soft cotton tickle your body, leaving your toes and fingertips to tingle. 

“F-ffuck. Argh.” Was all you could mutter out before rolling your eyes back again. You could feel Yeosang’s deep chuckle against your tummy, feeling like the sound almost came from inside you. And without letting his fangs slip, he drew his hand to your covered core. Pressing sharply on your sensitive button through the loose fabric. This made you let out another gasp, calling for Yeosang. “S-Sangie pleasee.”

San retracted his fangs from your wrist before whining, “Hey, I want to hear you cry my name out. Can you do that for me, pretty?” The vampire kissed along your arm until he got to your neck. You nodded while he tilted your head to the side, exposing your jugular. “such a good little doll. Now I want you to scream.”

And with that, he sunk his teeth into the crease of your shoulder and neck, making you let out a loud, painfully lustful cry. “FUCK SAN!!!”

Wooyoung and Yeosang finally pulled away after a few more moments, licking their lips of your blood. Yeosang had a deep growl rumble in his chest as he ran his thumb over the puncture wound, smearing the crimson liquid on your red irritated flesh. Wooyoung did the same but drew a heart with it instead making himself giggle in approval. “Fuck if we didn’t want to keep you alive pet. We would have drunk you dry.”

Yeosang’s empty threat would have scared anyone, but for some reason, it only enticed you more. Pulling your shaky legs up, you placed your bare feet on the edge of the pool table before spreading your legs wide. The grumpy vampire seemed to get the hint, taking his long nail he ripped the fabric right in between your thighs, making a slit-like opening for him and Wooyoung to get a perfect view of your soaking cunt. “Now, why don’t you look at that.”

Yeosang growls, sliding a finger along your wet lips. Your whole body shivers, feeling yourself becoming overwhelmed with pleasure. This shock wave made San sit up suddenly, pulling away from your shoulder, gasping for air as he let out the deepest, most feral-like groan you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, She tastes so good when you do that. I need one of you to fuck her right now so I can taste that again” His blood-stained lips kissed along your shoulder smearing all the red crimson liquid over your soft skin. His kisses your feverish as if he had become drunk off you alone. The few buttons that were holding your shirt closed were now being opened by the feline male, slowly revealing your hidden flesh. 

“I volunteer as tribute.” 

Wooyoung protested, shaking his belt in a manner of desperation, but Yeosang quickly scoffed, snaking his belt out of the hoops of his pants in one swift motion before dropping it. “I’d like to see you fucking try. This pussy is mine.” Yeosang’s deep venomous growl made the younger vampire cower slightly, giving him a slight pout. 

“Why do you get to go first.” From your angle, you could have sworn you saw Wooyoung stomp his feet, making you giggle lightly, catching the attention of all three of the men around you. Yeosang kisses your tummy lightly, pulling your focus to him alone, his hands gripping your hips and body snuggling tightly against your hot core.

“What’s so funny, pet? Finding enjoyment over us fighting over you?” Yeosang’s lips travelled up your navel as he kissed along your newly exposed skin since San had now successfully unbuttoned your top, revealing your perky, tight nipples on your plump and soft breasts.

“Yes sir…” you whispered, closing your eyes as you revelled in the feeling of his tongue sliding along your body.

“Fuck, she’s so good isn't she.” San covered his mouth with his hand, sighing at how obedient you had become. Reaching for your breast he squeezed your plump flesh together, pinching your nipples between his pointer and thumb. You choked out a whine as he rolled the pad of his finger over your sensitive bud, almost completely distracting you from the vampire between your legs. 

“Come on, Sangie, hurry up. I want to be inside her so badly.” Wooyoung has hopped up onto the end of the pool table leaning on his hand behind his soft frame. His hand palming his covered crotch, panting slightly as he watched San and Yeosang ravish you. Your hazy eyes looked back to see San standing straight and tall behind you. Giving you a sweet smile that was hiding a sinister lust underneath.

Before you could say anything about what Wooyoung had said, you felt Yeosang’s thick cock head breached your tight pussy. “Oh FUck!” You bucked your hips, helping him slide into you deeply inch by inch until he bottomed you out. He was definitely girthier than Seonghwa, making you feel like the wind was being knocked right out of you. 

“Shhit. This is the tightest pussy I’ve ever felt. Are you sure Seonghwa fucked you pet?” Yeosang began to ramble, pulling you down more so your ass was almost off the table. Sangie put his one hand under your thigh and hip, holding you still so he could slowly start thrusting into you, sharply and greatly. “So tight, so warm. Such a good little pet. You like being fucked baby? Bet you’d take all of us in one go if we’d asked.”

“Oh my god! Yes!!! please, Sangie.” You yelped at the top of your lungs just from the pure idea of having all eight of them. Pleasing them all. Dotting on them. You needed them just as much as they needed you. Yeosang gripped your shirt that hung open on the top and pulled you up until your face was inches from his and his lips, almost touching your own. 

“It’s master, my sweet little slut.” He yanked you off the pool table, pulling out for a moment so he could help you walk to the couch and even though his movements were rough, his grip was gentle, holding you closely in a way. Lovingly. “Come on baby, bend over the couch for me.”

He gave your ass a squeeze before letting you fall on your knees on the plush cushions. The couch was facing away from the pool table, so when you leaned over the top of it, you could get a perfect view of the other two vampires. “Okay, new game.” Yeosang knelt behind you, holding your hips, rubbing his palm against your skin. “Whoever gets a ball in first gets to take over and fuck our precious baby here. Deal?”

You had to laugh as San and Wooyoung scrambled around to grab their own pool stick. Your smile was bright as you were about to say some cheeky remark but you slowly felt Yeosang enter your soaked pussy from behind making you only let out a shaky whimper. His hands gripped tightly on your hips as your eyebrows knitted together and your mouth fell into an ‘O’ shape. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Yeosang chuckled as he thrusted into your cunt in shallow motions. His hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you up so your body was at an odd angle, but you couldn’t care less. “Last time I checked I’m not god’s pathetic son.”

Your fingers lased into the couch cushions, gripping onto it for dear life as you felt him slowly hammer into you faster. Your pussy would clench with each thrust making the most beautiful groans and whimpers fall from his lips. The hand that held the back of your neck, snaked around the front to clench tightly, blocking your airway just lightly, sending your brain into a fuzzy mess. 

“M-Master….” You cried, collapsing onto the edge of the couch. Your legs are shaking, and your arms are no longer able to hold yourself up anymore. San and Wooyoung were bickering, yelling at one another as they kept trying to get a ball in the hole. That was until San bent down and shot one of his stripes by hitting Wooyoung’s ball before getting it into the end left basket. 

Your glassy eyes could see San’s triumph, along with Woo’s high-pitched whine of defeat. The knot in your stomach was tightened with every thrust of Yeosang’s hips but before you could reach your climax he slipped out of your soaked cunt making you hiccup in a loud whine. “F-Ffuckk.”

“It’s okay, pet. Breathe…” You tried to take in a shaky breath as you felt your whole body being manhandled until you were sitting perfectly on someone’s lap. San’s naked lap, to be exact. His hazy smile got you blushing as he leaned forward to kiss your cheek so delicately.

“Don’t worry, sweet thing. I’ll take good care of you.” San’s cooe made you relax nicely against him as he lined his cock with your abused cunt. You were already so sensitive but somehow you were still craving more. The loud sound of pool balls whacking together got you startled but San stroked your cheek with his thumb slightly as he pulled your face towards his with his fingers. “Focus on me, baby. I want to see you come apart on my cock okay. No closing those pretty eyes."

You nodded with a short whimper followed by a simple yes that was so quiet you’re surprised San heard it. But then you remember that you weren’t fucking a normal man, but a beast in human form. A blood-sucking night-crawling beast that could kill you with his bare hands at any time. Your pussy clenched around his lengthy, and girthy cock making him groan. He slowly lifted your plump thighs up helping you gather a rhythm with your hips so you could ride him slowly. “S-sannie. Oh g-god please.”

“Such a good girl. Come on. Fuck you’re so tight...” You focused on his knitted brows and slightly parted mouth, seeing he was enjoying this just as much as you were. Your hips got faster as San started to buck upwards to match your movements. Your whole body was feeling like it was on fire, sensing you were close. He pushed your body up so he could help thrust deeper inside you. This left your tits to be right in his face, making him groan as he latched onto your plump flesh and sucked. Your breasts would be completely covered in hickeys by the time San was down them. And as his mouth traveled to the top of your breast you clenched around him, sucking him deeper into your tight cunt. He lost himself in your scent, the way you squeezed him and the sound of your pretty moans. He needed more, just another taste. He needed to taste the flavour of you when you came.

“S-San I’m gonna cum.” You gasped, tangling your fingers threw his hair.

“Come for me, baby. Be a good little human for me and cream on my cock.” He licked your skin before biting down, sinking his fangs into the top of your breast, jackhammering you at an inhuman pace. You screamed so loud that the whole manor would have heard, coming so much around Sans hard cock. You were it grew bigger inside you as your clenched harder, feeling him drink his fill of your red hot liquid. 

“San.” A male voice called out but your head was too dizzy, feeling San continue his assault on your cunt and teeth in your flesh. “SAN!!” The voice got loud but your eyes began to droop feeling a wave of sleep erode through your body. You heard San lewdly growl animalisticly against you, still drinking your blood as his cock stilled tightly in you, letting him come deep inside you.

The voice before screamed again, but your eyes closed, and darkness took over before you could see or hear anything else.

—

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[russellsppttemplates]

My person (Charles Leclerc)

Your brother's best friend is sure you were made for eachother

Note: english is not my first language. Most times I read a brother's best friend trope, it's usually the reader going after the boy, so I felt like doing things a little bit different (also, my brain got a bit jumbled because I was wondering about the perspective, and in the end I went with reader being Joris' twin). Also, I always feel a little bit of impostor's syndrome whenever I post these tropes for which I've read many great pieces about it, and I never know if my ones are good enough to be posted but we're going with it

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

Most people thought having a twin brother was bitter sweet because while you had to share everything since the womb, you had a brother so there came a time where you wanted to have different toys, different rooms and different styles.

Different friends, however, was never a question. Even with different interests, you and Joris often came as a duo, so both of your friend groups were pretty close.

"We're going to Charles' apartment to watch the football game, are you joining us?", Joris asked, throwing himself on your sofa and partially occupying your personal space, "Marta is going to be over and I think she's taking Chiara with her, too".

You don't remember a time where Charles wasn't in your life. Your brother knew him since they were in kindergarten and so there wasn't a memory where he wasn't involved. Which brought you to the last time you were with him, just a week before.

Charles spent the afternoon with Joris at your brother's apartment, wanting to relax and game for the rest of the day.

"It's Y/N", Charles said as he gave Joris his ringing phone, your caller ID prompting him to pick the calk up right away, "can you come and get me, please?", he heard you faintly as Joris got up straight away, listening to whatever you were telling as he put on his trainers and jacket.

"Y/N needs me to pick her up from the café - turns out her date thought she wouldn't mind going home on her own", Joris rolled his eyes, "it will be quick, you're good on your own here?", he checked with Charles, "sure", the driver assured, unpausing the game and carrying on.

Another date and another disappointment for you, Charles thought. While you weren't as close as his brother was to him, he still knew about your life as much as your other friends, and lately you had been looking for someone, your person, you claimed. Luck had yet to join your search as every date you went on seemed to go between bad and awful.

If he had the courage to come clean about his feelings, maybe things would be different. For a while, yes, you were Joris' twin sister and that was it. You were a cool girl and he didn't mind spending time with you or having your hang out with their group, but things changed when you went to university.

Maybe it was your glow up, although you never needed one to catch his eye in the first place, but year after year, you grew to exude confidence, your natural beauty enhanced as you turned into a charming, caring and kind young woman.

Since he didn't want to ruin the bond you had, he watched it all happen from the sidelines. How happy you sounded whenever you had a date later in the week, whenever a cute guy came up to you in the club and how you squealed "I think this one might be the one!" as you excused yourself and declined dinner invitations from the group for a date.

He heard the door open and then close, footsteps approaching the living room as he paused the game just in time for you to sit on the sofa, "what's up, Leclerc?", you nudged his shoulder.

"I'm good, how are you?", he quesioned, "I guess that one isn't the love of your life either?", he semi joked.

"He was certifiable, at the very least", you began as the boys chuckled, "Hey! I'm qualified to make such appreciation! He kept talking about himself and he was borderline sexist, but then he said I would be fine going home on my own? I don't know, it was a mess and I can't believe I even experienced that - I'm going to pretend it was a fever dream", you shrugged your shoulders, "I was expecting to spend the afternoon with him - thank Goodness I didn't, - and the construction work at my place is still going so I don't have anywhere to go, I'm sorry if I'm crashing your afternoon", you gulped.

"It's fine, it's nice having company other than us two playing and screaming at eachother", Charles smiled as Joris shrugged his shoulders, "you're already staying her until the building work is done", you brother offered.

"I wasn't asking you, silly; you're my twin, dealing with me it's something that comes with the job", you winked.

When it came to dinner time, the three of you decided to have take out, your brother calling the restaurant and scheduling a time for him to pick it up, "I'm going to shower", you said as you got up from the sofa, heading to the guest room you were staying in.

By the time you got out, your heard Joris shout that he was leaving while you put on some comfy clothes for the evening in. When you went to the balcony so your towels could air dry for a bit, you sat in the padded chair, looking out to the sunset.

He would come, you thought. It wasn't particularly a manifestation or a "throw it at the universe" kind of thing, but rather something to reassure yourself. You were worthy of the standards you set for yourself and there was someone out there for you, and he would come.

"Hey", Charles stepped into the balcony, coming to sit in the chair next to yours, "a cent for your thoughts?", he smiled softly, the warm yellow and orange light hitting his eyes in a glowy hue.

"Do you believe that the right person for you is out there?", you shot softly.

"I know she is", Charles gulped, "Oh, confident!", you giggled softly, "but it's nice, better than being sulky like me".

"I'm not sure how much better it is. I know she is out there, but it's a little more complicated than just going up to her and tell her that", he played with hia thumbs.

"So you're chickening out?", you quirked your eyebrow, partly teasing him but genuinely curious about it. You didn't have enough fingers to count how many girls tried to approach you and befriend you with the only goal of getting into a friendship circle that would lead them to Charles, and he could probably chat up anyone he wanted, so it was hard for you to understand how he didn't have the love of his life with him yet.

"It's not chickening out if you think it might cause some issues with your friends, I think. I'm being prudent, that's all", Charles tried, wanting to take the opportunity to try and see where you stood. Girls were usually sharper than guys, so you said many times, maybe you'd take the hint.

"If I knew who the love of my life was, I would go to him and never look back. I know it sounds silly, but I wouldn't want to be away from him a second longer, it would be quite shitty if he was in a relationship", you mused, "but if we were really meant to be together - if it was a both ways kind of thing - he would know it, right? Goodness, sound a bit like a romantic sop, don't I?", you chuckled, "but I would fight for him, for us".

Charles felt inspired before he felt a little angry. Here you here saying you would fight until you found your person when he was right there. If it really worked as a both ways thing, you'd have to know and feel the person you kept looking for was him. He broke into a full belly laugh as he stated at you. No make-up, hair sitting in its natural wave and comfy clothes, you never looked so beautiful to him.

"Would you let me fight for us, too?", he mused quietly but loud enough for you to hear, "would you want me to do that?".

Giggling at him, you could only shake your head at his words, "I know this sound silly - Joris teases me enough about it enough", you groaned as your hands covered your face.

"I'm not joking or teasing", Charles clarified, turning to face you on the chair, "All I want is for you to look at me the way you look at them", Charles stated, "whenever you talk about your dates before you go on them, you're so hopeful that that guy will be the one, you look forward to it like it will be that time, and you never looked at me that way when I constantly make efforts to hung the stars and the moon for you and stand there hoping they get to you".

His confession took you off guard. Charles just admitted he liked you, in a way with words that was more elaborate than what any of your dates had ever told you combined.

"I thought you were being nice?! Was this some sort of plan?!", you quesioned immediately. He had been around you your whole life, you surely would've noticed it, wouldn't you?

Charles chuckled in a way you found a smidge belittling, "it wasn't a plan! Y/N, I have not been planning this or doing some strategy, it just happened out of nowhere!", Charles bit back, "like you said, the person for me is out there and she's you!".

The noise from the door pulled both of you out your discussion, your brother's singalong voice announcing he was back with the food.

Dusting your sweatpants, you stepped back inside the living room, shaking off the jitters you had as your brother scrunched up his face, "is everything okay?", he asked.

"Of course, I'm just hungry and you drove like a grandpa here", you bickered back as Charles joined you at the table, "I'll get the cutlery and plates from the kitchen", you mumbled.

The dinner was eaten quietly on your side, Charles and Joris making most of the conversation as you exchanged a few looks with the Formula One driver, your twin brother seemingly obvious as he carried on as usual, "I'm going to bed", you said after helping tidy, "are you sure? We were going to watch something on TV?", Joris asked you.

"I'm getting a headache, so I'll pass, good night boys", you gave them tight lipped smile.

In the bedroom, you changed into your pyjamas and finished your night-time routine and got under the sheets, Charles' words replaying as you looked at the ceiling.

"Y/N? Are you joining us or not? Do you have any plans?", Joris insisted, "you've been weird lately", he pointed out.

"I'll join you, yes, just need to get my hoodie and then I'll be good to go", you scrambled out as your heart beat faster inside your chest.

Joris offered to drive to Charles' apartment, getting there when Riccardo, Marta and little Chiara were alresdy inside with Charles.

"The rest of the group couldn't come, so it's just us", Riccardo said as he noticed your expression, "what a shame, more food for us!", you smirked, sitting next to Marta and playing with the little girl on her lap, "hello, my love, hello!", you cooed in the voice you only had for babies, "look at you so grown up! You get more beautiful everytime I see you", you smiled, tickling her chin softly as she giggled loudly.

"Who did the roast potatoes last time we got together?", Joris stepped back into the living room, "I did", you stated as you grabbed one of the toys on the coffee table, ready to sit down on the floor so you and Chiara could play together.

"Don't sit down!", your brother yelled, "sorry, but you can't sit down - Charles needs help with the potatoes and he doesn't know the recipe like you do", he reasoned as you got up, trying not to show how much you didn't want to be in the same room alone with Charles. Watching football while having dinner with your group of friends was one thing, spending one on one time with Charles after what he said to you the last time was another.

"Hey", you said as you stepped into the kitchen, "Joris said you needed help, what can I do?".

Charles smiled a little, maybe at the irony of your quesion, "I don't know what seasonings to use in these", he said as he showed you the vegetable with the ones he already cut up.

"Okay, do you keep the spices in the same place?", you asked as he nodded, encouraging you to use his kitchen like it was your own.

Opening the cabinets and grabbing what you needed, you started mixing the ingredients and cutting up the ones you needed to, "can you get me the olive oil, please? I can't reach it", you asked and Charles complied, "thank you".

"Is this how this is going to be? Interacting like we haven't known eachother since we were little and like I haven't poured my heart out to you?", Charles said, arms crossed as he rested against the kitchen counter.

"I wasn't counting on you saying all of that, I was so caught off guard that I haven't been able to think about anything else in my off time!", you offered, setting the knife down on the chopping board.

"It's not like people have speeches ready and give of warnings when they're about to confess their feelings for someone... I myself wasn't expecting to do it until the words came out of my mouth", Charles gestured as if he was vomiting, "what do you expect it to be like anyway? People have to warn you they have feelings for you and ask if you want to hear it?! Is that what you want?".

"I want to feel loved, appreciated and valued. I want to be with someone that reminds me that I'm beautiful, that I'm smart and I'm wonderful. I want to share my life with someone who has no trouble with me wanting to have both career goals and family goals, I want someone who supports me as much as a support him, who is willing to do silly things because I enjoy them and who loves me for me, flaws and all", you let out in one go, "That's what I want".

Charles eyebrows climbed on his forehead, "Are you insinuating I can't give you that? Is that why we haven't spoken since that evening at Joris' place?".

"I'm saying you're my brother's best friend, and no matter how much I think you can do it - because you make me feel like that just from being my friend, imagine if we were dating -, I don't want to risk whatever we have, all of us", you gestured to the living room where the rest of the group was.

"Y/N", Charles pleaded, "you don't think I've thought about that? I didn't do it on a whim like you think I did, I've been sitting on this for quite a while, actually", he clarified, "I will respect whatever you decide, okay? But can't just sit and pretend that you don't want this thing between you and me as much as I do, because we could be so good-", he was interrupted as Marta crossed the corner and stepped inside the kitchen, "Charles, can I heat Chiara's soup on the microwave?", she asked with the small tupperware on her hands.

"Sure, here", he guided her as you resumed to seasoning the potatoes, putting them on the tray and then in the oven, "the game is about to start, hurry up!", Joris yelled.

"I'll just wash this, and that too", you took the tupperware's lid as well as the utensils you needed for the dressing.

"I need to cool it down a little, maybe in a bigger bowl", Marta said as Charles helped in getting the bowl from the cupboard as you set the utensils aside to dry, "Merci, Charles, off we go then", she said as she waited for you both to leave and go to the living room so she could follow you.

"Come here, sweet cheeks", you clapped at Chiara, taking her away from your brother's arms and putting her in the highchair so she could eat comfortably, "auntie Y/N is going to give you your delicious soup, yummy yummy", you smiled.

Charles couldn't help but take in the sight, how you made Chiara feel like she was the only person in the world as you smiled and spoke to her, finding a million and one ways to get her to eat the soup in the bowl.

The food was ready by the half-time break, so you all helped with bringing the food to the table, eating it as the team you were supporting ended up winning the game.

"She's knocked out", you pointed out to Riccardo, Chiara asleep in the little makeshift cot you made on the sofa with some pillows and blankets to make sure she was warm and secure.

"We can clean up, you guys go home and take this little princess to sleep in her own bed", Charles smiled, stroking the little girl's cheek softly as he watched her peaceful expression.

"You don't mind?", Marta wondered as the three of you nodded, helping the parents gather their daughter's belongings so they could leave, hoping she wouldn't wake up and make it harder for her to fall back asleep.

"Sweet dreams, petite fleur", you cooed as Marta cuddled Chiara into her chest, squeezing her small hand softly before they walked out of the door.

"These need to go on the dishwasher", you sorted through the plates and checked if they were safe to go on the machine as your brother help you.

"We should probably get going", Joris said, not wanting to overstay your welcome, "do you need anything else, Charles? Otherwise, me and Y/N will leave you to it", he said.

"Actually, me and Charles need to talk, if that's okay", you looked at the driver, catching him by surprise before he nodded in agreement.

Joris didn't dwell too much on it like you thought he would, "so you need me to come and pick you up or...?", he trailed before Charles saved you, "don't worry, I've got her", he stated.

When Charles accompanied your twin brother to the door, he was blunt and honest, "She's my sister, but there could be worse guys than you", Joris offered as Charles narrowed his eyes, "Oh, please, do you think I'm that blind? I've seen the way you look at her and how you always go above and beyond for her - she's just being too stubborn about it to see it, too. Still, if you ever break her heart or cause her any tears of sadness and anger, you're going to wish I didn't know so much about you", he threatened, although it didn't go as planned as they both laughed, "I trust you, there wasn't anyone I would trust like this", he sighed, "you're just lucky you have brothers, otherwise I might've taken revenge on you", he nudged his shoulder.

"I bet Lorenzo would enjoy a cuddle every now and again if you'd like", Charles giggled before he showed his seriousness again, "I just want this to work out between us, I think she's my person, you know?", he mused, realising how cliché and whipped he sounded, "I'll take care of her, you don't need to worry", he assured.

Charles closed the door and walked back to the living room where you sat down on the sofa, legs covered with one of the blankets, "I- thank you for staying back", he smiled, pointing with his eyes to the spot next to you silently asking if he could sit.

You opened the blanket so he could sit next to you and you could both keep warm, "I want to apoligise for not saying anything the last time we spoke, and for how I've handled this", you began, "I'm sorry, Charles", you said earnestly.

"Apology accepted", he nodded, "and did you just stay here to apoligise?", he quesioned.

"I- I thought we could have a date, sort of anyway", you mumbled, "and I could also tell you how I feel about you since it seems I owe you that with what you've told me", you looked into his eyes, "it wasn't that you were ever off bounds or anything like that, I never cared for those supposed rules, but it never occurred to me", you blurted and Charles quirked a brow, "shoot, that's not what I meant, ugh", you grunted as he soothingly rubbed your thigh, "what I meant is I always thought you'd never look at me that way - I'm Joris' twin - so I just took all of the affection I had for you and put it in a friendship feelings and all of the things you did for me, I thought you were just being nice because you're a nice guy", you clarified.

"Does this mean you're letting me treat you like you deserve? Because I plan on making sure you feel and know you're wonderful every single day", he smiled charmingly, confident words contrasting with his shy attempt of lacing your fingers together on his lap.

"How can you be so sure we are eachother's person?", you couldn't help but mumble, even if the butterflies in your stomach were dancing like they hadn't been in a long time, "I just know, and I'll help you see it, too", he smiled, kissing your knuckles before he pulled you to his chest, finding something to watch on the TV.

You both watched reruns of one of your favourite shows, pointing out little details you loved and talking about any topic that came to mind, and once Charles' body warmth and his touches along your arm caught up to your system and lulled you to sleep, your head finding it's spot on his chest as he smiled down at you, your beauty never ceasing to amaze him as he noticed every mole, freckle and scar on your face from up close.

Even if he didn't want to move, and that it wouldn't be the first time he slept on his sofa, he reasoned that he should at least offer you his bed. Softly stroking your cheek, he coaxed you to wake up, "I'm sorry for waking you up, but we can't sleep here", he whispered, kissing the side of your head, "you can sleep in my bed, I'll take the sofa", he offered as you stretched a little bit, removing yourself from his chest.

"If you promise you won't do any funny business, we can sleep in the same bed", you yawned.

"Of course I won't, Y/N! I would never do anything you didn't want to, I-", Charles panicked, not wanting you to think he was trying to take advantage of you.

"I'm only kidding, I know you won't", you assured, arms pulling him to stand up with you as you walked to the bedroom after turning everything off, "I trust you, Charles, completely", you smiled.

To him, it meant the world.

You felt his heart race when your hand landed on his chest, "I need a t-shirt, though, this is not comfy to sleep in", you reasoned as he looked for one on his drawers, "here, you can get ready here while I get ready in the bathroom", he smiled, kissing the top of your head before he stepped inside the ensuite.

After you swapped so you could brush your teeth, you were both undoing the bed, pulling the sheets back over you and having eachother.

"I really want to kiss you right now, but I don't want to cross any boundaries", Charles admitted as your heart raced in your chest, "I'd really like that, you can kiss me if you want", you consented.

Charles leaned to rub your nose in his before kissing your lips softly, allowing you both to revel in the feelings that had been put in labelled boxes at the back of your minds.

Parting your lips to breathe, you cupped Charles' cheek, your palm tickling from his facial hair as your thumb rubbed his skin, "I think you might be right", you mumbled, licking your lips, "about what?", he mused, "about the fact that you'll help me see it too", you smiled.

The next morning, you woke up with Charles looking at you, "Good morning, Y/N", he greeted, "See? I didn't pull any funny business", he wiggled his brows chuckling.

This was a sight you could get used to.

"Good morning", you smiled, "did you sleep well?", you wondered, pulling closer to him now that you were awake.

"I did, did you?", he asked and you nodded, cuddling closer to him and basking in the feeling of just being there.

"We are going to take this as slow as you want", Charles whispered against your forehead, leaving little kisses and pecks on your skin, "but I want you to know I'm all in".

"I'm all in, too", you whispered, "I can't promise you it will be a straight line - or that I won't spiral out every now and again because hey, it's me -, but I feel really good about this, you make me feel really good", you blushed as you kissed between his eyebrows, "having said this, not all of us have the day to do some training and sim racing, and I'm one of them. I have to go home to change and then head to the clinic", you pouted slightly.

"How about I make us some breakfast first, then I'll drop you off?", he suggested, stealing a peck from your lips, "hmm, sounds good", you hummed.

.

"Were you expecting us to be surprised?", Marta said as she and her family arrived in Charles' yacht, the three of them seeing you and Charles kissing at the table.

Throwing your head back in laughter as Charles walked up to help them inside, you shielded your eyes from the sun with your hand, "at least pretend you are", you joked.

"Oh my Goodness, I never thought you two would become a thing? Does this mean we can finally stop hearing your disgraced love life stories and Charles' complaints about who you went on a date with?", Riccardo belted out, catching the attention from a couple on the yacht next to the one you were sitting on.

"To be fair, that's how I noticed it", Marta began, "Charles didn't complain anymore about how he was alone and that the universe wasn't working on his favour", she smirked, greeting you two.

"We have been keeping it down low just to see how things would go", you blushed at getting caught and steering the conversation elsewhere once Chiara babbled at you, "Oh, baby girl, hello!", you cooed, pulling her into your arms.

"Soon enough you can get one of those, I bet your kid would be very very cute", Riccardo nudged Charles' shoulder, loving that the group now could have a few teasing moments and themes at your expense, all in good fun.

"What a warm welcome!", you heard your brother yell, a fake angry and ironic tone noticeable in his voice, "First, no one is here to greet me with a glass of something to drink or even a helping hand to step in", Joris clarified, "then I'm presented with a conversation about my sister's and my best friends sex life, which I don't want to know about by the way!!", he said as he came up to you, kissing the side of your head, "I'm happy she's happy, and that you're all happy together, but no talking about that, please!".

[shinesurge]

Webcomic rings run by people within the community are cool and you should support them

I've been loudly struggling a little bit with corporate webcomic Stuff lately so I want to mention something positive to balance it out: webrings run by small groups of creators earnestly trying to support each other are slowly making a comeback and I for one am delighted.

If you weren't around for them in the before times, webrings were just some folks who hang out a lot who feature each other on their websites. That's literally it lmao. There's generally no money involved and it only really functions the way it's supposed to if people have control over their own websites AND genuinely want to participate and get excited about other folks' work, which means the practice has pretty well fallen by the wayside over the years in webcomic culture given. Everything. In the rare event someone decides to do something like this it's usually in the form of a link list somewhere on their website; this doesn't usually indicate any sort of mutual support, it's just a list of what the creator is reading themselves.

A webring, though, is an official banner or hub that people gather under intentionally where each member is more or less on equal footing. It's essentially the concept of "a rising tide lifts all boats" put into practice, each creator brings their own audience to the table in a passive, opt-in sort of way that's different from working for a publisher since there isn't necessarily a Top Spot or a paycheck everyone's vying for, and individuals retain autonomy over both their own work and how (if) they promote each other. You're all at your own tables in an artist alley rather than fighting over the table in the front of the book store, essentially.

I have two rings and one collective for you today!

Webcomic Ring was brought to my attention AGES ago by Holly, one of the artists featured there, and I might have brought it up at some point but I'm doing it again lmao. This is exactly the kind of thing you ought to be looking for; a small group of enthusiastic folks having a good time making their weird little comics. You probably haven't heard of much in the catalog, that's PERFECT in the context of webcomics that's where the GOOD SHIT is. Finding something like this is A Gift go dig around in the longboxes for a while.

Then a few people have pointed me in the direction of the KNIFEBEETLE collective and that's neat too! Most of the comics there are already fairly well-known, but the vibes are excellent and I haven't seen a lot of talk about the collective /itself/ outside folks already in the know. I think it's important for this sort of thing to be more visible to folks who aren't terminally steeped in webcomic culture already so here I am telling you about it. You were probably reading several of these before I suggested it, but that's how a webring works! For it to do its job you should take those bigger creators' tacit recommendation of the less popular titles as a sign to go read something new and strange. Wild, I know these are practices held over from the old internet, but I think we should try and bring them back.

Lastly, I want to mention Spiderforest, which is a collective (slightly different from a webring) BUT still a very cool project readers starved for new stuff should pay attention to.

You've probably seen Spiderforest kicking around for a long time already; they're wonderful and have always been an overall positive force in the community in my experience. They really focus on building up a community, and especially welcoming newcomers and helping them get their feet under them. Full disclosure, I've been asked to apply by a few different folks over the years and the only reason I never did is I don't have the ability to participate in their forums and such as frequently as they want their creators to; it's a very good system (from my outside perspective) that might contribute to the community staying mostly healthy in ways that art communities usually don't and I appreciate it a lot!

ANYWAYS that's all I got for now, just trying to balance out some bad feelings I've been having by talking about some good stuff. Please go binge an archive this week.

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 13 - I-T-G-I-R-L, You Know I am That Girl

So this chapter is a little different. As well all know, the reader is an ICON and no one is near her level and she will do some iconic things in 2024

Look out for the dates to see how the time line goes (its a bit all over the place so I apologize but this will end with the start of the F1 Season with her clip in the Formula One Intro for every race and some other little things.)

And I know most of the pictures I used were Max but we play pretend here :D

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated <3

TAG LIST IS OPEN

February 20, 2024

acrosstheline.podcast we are so privileged to have sat down with y/n.89 for this all exclusive interview where we discussed her opening races, femininity in male-dominant sports, and what it takes to be a racer - read now in our special edition

liked by y/n.89, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 751,836 others

lilymhe is this what you've been working on! so so proud of you

y/n.89 hehe it is! and love you too - tell Alex that I'm taking you alex_albon I'm right here y/n.89 and? lilymhe gagged him

y/n_updates OH MY GOSH OUR GIRL'S FIRST MAGAZINE

y/n_lover and hopefully not the last! y/n.89 definitely not y/n_updates SHE RESPONDED?!

change_ur_f-car the questions were top notch! good to see interviewers who aren't looking to poke and prod for a reaction

y/n.nation favorite quote - "I never thought I'd podium on my first race - let alone finish it in the points. I hope that this means that this season will be good. I've always said that I was born to break records - and I'm glad to see that I wasn't lying."

formula1fanatic this was beautifully written, I was skeptical about her joining - but now I have no doubts. she truly belongs in the car to win

May 15, 2024

duke Y/n L/n has taken the Motor Sport World - and everyone else - by storm. we had the opportunity to sit down with the rookie and discuss the inside feelings that might take over during the pressures of her first year. these are the unfiltered thoughts of y/n l/n.

liked by charles_leclerc, formula1, and 284,937 others

y/n-lover MOMMY, sorry, MOTHER, sorry, MOMMY

maxiel_obsessed glad you put my thoughts into words

y/n'soneandonly can arthur_leclerc fight? post up frenchman

charles_leclerc he's MONEGASQUE

girls4girls this is the moment I became a fan

89_all-the_way "I looked around one time and really thought about how I was the only female racer. I was waiting for the doubts to creep in but instead pride found its way into my soul. I made it and no one can stop me" WHAT AN ICON

box-box literally one of my favorite moments number1y/n-fan I love her so much

maxverstappen1 where is your shirt young lady?

y/n.89 its called fashion - something you haven't heard of mr. I only wear RedBull merchant lewishamilton glad to see you went with my outfit suggestion georgerussell33 what was wrong with my suggestion!? y/n.89 I was not about to wear a Tommy Hilfiger jumpsuit

francisca.gomez loml - so proud of you girly

y/n.89 thanks kika! tell pear I want you back

pitstopfailure BARK BARK BARK BARK

October 7, 2024

voguemagazine "I think that I was born for this. there's nothing else I'd rather be doing than getting in my car every weekend and putting my life on the line for the sport I love," says Y/n L/n. Her days are directed by high speeds, training, and breaking records.

liked by kellypiquet, lewishamilton, and 820, 184 others

redbullracing that's our rookie!!

emotionalsupport-rivals and everyone liked that bullsrunred they are everything to me your honor

verstappensfam first kelly, then y/n! now max just needs a vogue addition

y/n.89 oh I'm working on it!

y/n-on-top they hit us with that "no one is on her level. they may be close, but we haven't seen talent like this since Lewis Hamilton's rookie year. even then, it feels different - she's different."

iamred-iamyellow and then they follow up with "her poise and composure are unmatched. she wins and maturely celebrates, she doesn't too well in the race - she takes it to heart and fixes it. she is everything a formula 1 driver aspires to be."

y/n.89 BEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT EVER!!!!!!

oscarpias-tree the way her birthday is right in the middle of Max's and Arthur's birthdays y/nxarthur exactly 7 days after max's and 7 days before Arthur's

December 4, 2023

time Y/n L/n (y/n.89) is TIME's 2024 Woman of the Year.

In her freshman season of Formula 1, L/n talks about her phenomenal rookie year, carving her spot into the sport, and the up's and down's of the expectations that were on her shoulders.

liked by taylorswift, zendaya, and 926,824 others

y/n-lover LETS GO!!!!!!!

maxverstappen1 so so proud

taylorswift congratulations y/n.89! you deserve this and everything!

y/n.nation that's our girl right there - woman of the YEAR

y/n.89 why is everyone tagging me in this post??

landonorris uh, did you even look at it??? oscarpiastri you were announced woman of the year? y/n.89 oh. boxbox_nightmare where'd she go logansargeant oh she's screaming right now - I can hear her though the walls y/n.89 LOGAN

y/n_updates everything about this article changed the way I think about life

lestappenlove this is my Roman Empire

December 20, 2024

motorsportsproduction The "Minds of Champions" special issue is out now!

We thank sebastianvettel, maxverstappen1, and y/n.89 for sitting down with us for this exclusive. Inside you will find separate as well as joint interviews from the drivers.

liked by arthur_leclerc, danielricciardo, and 2,947,935 others

lastlaplando the way they had not only y/n and max but SEBASTIAN VETTLE TOO

vettelsvetos this is everything to me, I know y/n isn't a champion yet but the way she talks and acts - she's truly champion material

emotionalsupport-rivals max, y/n, and Sebastian are the perfect trio, I could see them win a Le Mans race one day

box_box oh my gosh yes - they'd be the perfect line-up

redbullracing our three generations: past, present, and future

sebastianvettel thank you for having me - it was a special time

y/n.89 it was so good to see you again seb! planning my Switzerland trip as we speak maxverstappen1 am I invited? charles_leclerc Sebastian's favorites ONLY maxverstappen1 then why are you still here? y/n.89 shots fired (you're all wrong - I'm the favorite) landonorris popcorn is out and the girls are fighting

landonorris sad I wasn't invited for this interview

motorsportsproductions next time mr. Norris, next time

y/n.nation half of these interviews made me cry

y/ndoesiconicshit so, y/n dyed her hair navy and red just for a RedBull commercial? she is COMMITTED - sad that she eventually got back to her blond hair

liked by lastlaplando, maxiel-lover, and 170 others

y/n.nation sorry to tell you but these were wigs, y/n mentioned it once in an interview :(

y/ndoesiconicshit NOOOOOOOOOOO y/n-on-top her hair would have been crispy af if she actually dyed it

formula1fan when I tell you I switched teams because of this commercial

y/ndoesiconicshit y/n put out bts pictures of her first photoshoot and lemme tell you - I am in LOVE

liked by y/n.nation, pitstopfailure, and 239 others

f1-today this photoshoot was everything to me

y/n-loves-me people better be glad that y/n chose to be a driver and not a model

formula_uno the way that half the drivers could be models if they quit their day jobs

y/n_updates those pictures are on my wall

y/ndoesiconicshit apparently y/n wasn't ready when Max came to pick her up before media day - so she got ready in the car (what a queen)

liked by y/n-lover, y/n_fan, and 361 others

piastri_81 the way she's so unbothered, in her vlog from that day she sounded so chill while max was freaking out about being late

icon-y/n I quote "max what would they do? fire us? yagirl89 the follow up "YES" and then the "oh" had me dying

lastlaplando her skin is flawless - she needs to drop that skincare routine asap

y/ndoesiconicshit y/n's birthday was wild - y/n hinted at what happened but nothing was confirmed. all we know is that the wags took her out to celebrate the night of and they all went radio-silent (max and Arthur were panicking)

liked by change_ur_f-car, formula1fanatic, and 613 others

f1_wags apparently they went to a club where phones weren't allowed for privacy reasons

y/ns_oneandonly the leaked videos tho were hilarious

y/n-and-wags but the outside videos of Arthur and Max coming to get her melted my heart

maxiel-lover i NEED the details like water - y/n better drop them

y/ndoesiconicshit y/n at the premier of the Formula 1 film "Can't Catch Me" starring Tom Holland - when she stepped out on the red carpet ALL cameras went to her, like no one else was photographed during this time

liked by y/n.89, arthurxy/n, and 729 others

tomholland-fan DID ANYONE NOTICE Y/NS CAMEO THO

y/n.nation I thought that woman looked familiar! y/n.89-love where was she! I'll go back and watch it just to find her tomholland-fan it was when Tom's character needed to go to the mechanics for his Honda - she was the one he talked to and she was also at the end race as a engineer as well!

RedBull.nation the way everyone held their breaths when she stepped out of the car, the only sound was the clicks of the cameras and then the crowd just erupted in a roar to get her attention

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Start of the actual chapter!

Your sunglasses sat perched on your nose as you sat in the back seat of whatever rental you were in for the day. Your fingers swiped the screen of your iPhone, constantly switching videos before they could even finish. Vito sat next to you, looking out the window as he talked to someone on the phone. Words about contracts, signings, photoshoots, and interviews rattled around in the car. The driver turned the wheel as he pulled up to the studio. The car lurched as it came to a stop. 

Vito quickly hung up on the phone with a short goodbye. You turned off your phone before you stepped out of the car. 

“What was that all about?” you asked as he guided you to the front of the building. 

You heard the click of his phone as he locked it and opened the door. You said a quick thank you as you were blasted with the air conditioning. 

“Just some calls I had to make. Lots of people are wanting to interview you kid. I have to make sure that they’re not just using you or plan to ask you stupid questions.” His fingers flew over the screen, probably typing yet another email. 

You just nodded. Vito had taken care of you for so long, he’d take care of you now. You knew how dangerous the media was, especially as a woman in your occupation. 

The two of you followed a long hallway down to a big room where cameras and other filming equipment were set up. Right now, Max was in the middle in his racing suit working on poses. Since he was the 2023 champion, you guessed he’d be doing what he did last year and the year before. But you’ll have people know you tried to convince him to do an actual pose, but he was resilient against your puppy eyes. 

You however had no clue what pose you were going to do. So, you were really hoping that someone would be able to assist you. 

Max quickly glanced at you and shot you a smile before being directed to pay attention. His smile melted and his stone-cold façade showed up. You wanted to shiver since you knew that Max was this big softy that had been broken down by the villainous persona that had been built by cut scenes and misplaced wording. You’d rather go back in time to tell little Max that he wasn’t the big monster everyone said he was than win a world championship. But because time travel hasn’t been confirmed – yet, you’d stick with helping present Max and work toward your own championship. 

You were ushered to a small changing room where your new race suit was hung up. Your fireproofs were neatly folded and were lying on the small bench. The shoes sat next to them. This year, the suits were a bit different. Max and you had voiced how much you liked the matte gold and navy look. Yes, the navy and red were the big staple colors of Red Bull, but you could do well with a little pizzaz. 

So the design team listened and made the red a sub color. The lettering and stripes down the sides were gold. The bulls on the main logos were gold as well. Red lined the seams as well as being the main color for all the sponsorship logos. 

The one thing that Max was happy about was that the hats stayed the same. He had too many from the year before to not be able to wear them. You didn’t see the appeal as you were more prone to hat hair than he was. 

You put on the all navy fire proofs before stepping into the thicker race suit. You kept the outer layer on your hips as you sat down on the bench to lace your shoes. Standing up, you noticed a mirror. You walked over and just took a moment to look at yourself. 

Possibly for once in your life, you liked the way you looked. The once dark circles under your eyes had finally gone away with some good sleep. Your hair looked more shiny and healthy and you had put on some good weight in the form of muscles that were needed to steer the car. Your trainer had put you through vigorous training, but it was all to help you prepare. 

A knock on the door let you know that they were ready for you. Vito stood to the side with your 2024 helmet. You were known for switching your helmet almost every other race in Formula 2. Your argument was that you just had too many good ideas not to use them. To keep it simple, you went with a full navy helmet with gold logos to match the suits. 

Some of the Red Bull team had mentioned that your helmet looked similar to Sebastian Vettel’s helmet. You only shot them a sly smile, basically telling them everything they needed to know. And it’s not like you didn’t know the German racer, quite the contrary. And did he give you his blessing to take inspiration from his glory days at Red Bull? The probability was huge. 

But again, people really didn’t need to know that either. 

All you knew was that the helmet matched to a tee, and it would be lucky to be used for more than 10 races. You had a list where you’d use special helmets. Vito was already on it with getting them ordered. You didn’t pay him to not order multiple custom helmets per year. He was already used to your antics. 

You shook hands with multiple people before walking over to Max. You took your place next to him. 

“So what’s the plan. I go left, you go right, and we leave with a giant explosion behind us? Taylor Swift Bad Blood style?” 

Max wheezed through his nose, not expecting your full-proof plan. 

From behind, Vito spoke up, “There will be no explosions. Here’s the plan. The producers talked to me and they actually want Y/n’s segment to go last as like a ‘surprise’.”

You interrupted him, “But people already know I’m driving.” 

Vito sighed before continuing. “I know. It doesn’t make sense but they’re the bosses for today. So they want Max to hold your helmet, turn to the left and hand it off screen. Then the camera would cut to you ‘taking it,’ you’d look down, and then put it on.” 

Your hands flew up. “So I don’t get to do the pose I rehearsed and Max doesn’t get to continue to look dead inside?” 

Max looked at you and squinted. “You didn’t have a pose ready. You were just texting me and panicking that you didn’t have one.” 

You only pouted after his confession. 

Max went ahead and redid his segment. This time, he did manage to do a little smile, just because you were the one taking the helmet and you made a weird face at him. 

The film techs said that the last take with the smile was the best one. And to Max’s chagrin, it would be the one to be used in the official video. 

You were told to stand on the massive X in the middle of the background. You were looking around at all the lights as someone helped you fix your hair. You hadn’t done anything pretty with it because it wasn’t realistic. You had never curled your hair and done anything special with it on race day. People would always find your hair in a braid, bun, or a Founding Father’s ponytail. And today was no different. 

You took a bit of time to actually make a nice braid that sat on your shoulder. Made you feel a bit like Katniss Everdeen. 

Speaking of, you wanted to have a little bit of fun. Your nickname wasn’t Kid for a reason.

“And action.” 

Your hand scrunched into three fingers that rose to your mouth for a kiss and then was lifted above your head. 

“I volunteer as tribute!” 

A couple of giggles filled the studio. Max and Vito were trying their best not to laugh out loud too much behind the camera. 

“Cut! Let’s try it again!” 

Your segment took about three more tries to get correctly. One of them, you accidentally dropped your helmet. Another, the helmet wouldn’t go on properly with your braid on your shoulder so you had to move it and undo it, so that you didn’t look like you didn’t have hair – the ponytail worked better. And then the third take was perfect. 

Max had been the one to hand you the helmet off screen and you did the opposite that he had done. You started off with a small smile, before going cold faced when you put the helmet on. You tried not to giggle once the thing was one since it felt weird without the balaclava. But you managed to keep your shoulders still until the man yelled Cut once more. 

You, thankfully, were allowed to now go change out of the hot suit. A Red Bull manager was the one to take the suit from you and hold on to it until preseason testing, which was going to be in a few weeks. You knew that when you said goodbye to Max as the place, it wouldn’t be too long until you would see him again. 

Wasn’t like you were ten minutes away, or that you didn’t work together, or that you somehow had the same simulator testing times just to catch up on what you missed during the week. But during the last few weeks, you spent more time with Arthur. 

He had called you in tears once he finally got confirmation that he was going to be out of Formula 2 and then cried once more when he had to leave the Ferrari Academy program. Your heart just ached and ached for him when you held him. 

You remember when he finally opened up a few nights after. 

You were bundled up in a giant blanket. He had come over to your apartment since Charles was staying with their mom for a few days while his apartment was being remodeled. Arthur’s head was tucked in your neck as a random movie played on the screen. 

He had finally spoken up. 

“You know. I really knew from the moment that I couldn’t continue karting all those years ago that racing just wasn’t for me. It never was.” 

You looked down at his face that was stained with tears. “Thur, don’t say that.” 

He only shrugged. “It’s true. If it wasn’t maybe Papa would have chosen for me to continue racing. And I know I begged Charles to be selfish, but maybe now I’m wishing I hadn’t.”

Your hands grabbed his face and made him look up at you. 

“Please don’t say that. Please.” 

By now, you had your own tears staining your face. 

“Because if you weren’t in Formula 2 this year, I would have never met you.” You took a breath. “My best friend wouldn’t be my best friend without it.” 

His eyes closed as he nodded little nods, almost as if he was having a hard time excepting what you called the truth. 

“I just feel like I don’t have a purpose anymore. You and Charles have racing, Maman has her store, and Lorenzo has the business. I have nothing.” 

Your arms wrapped around his figure. “We’ll find something and figure it out together. If anything, you can follow me to all my races.” You had a shit-eating grin on your face. A small laugh escaped his lips and you took that as a win. 

“What, and be your WAG?” 

You elbowed the Monegasque. “Sure. That’s exactly what I’m going for. I think I’ll have separation anxiety without you.” 

“Then that’s what I’ll do. Or unless I find something else.” 

“That’s all I ask. For you not to give up Thur. We’re in this new world together.” 

Arthur, feeling bold, laced his hands with yours. You were thankful for the dark room so he couldn’t see your red cheeks. 

“Together.”

And together is what you did for the remaining weeks. You and Arthur scoured every possibility he had to get back into racing. You reached out to many people – people who knew your godfather well and had helped you back with karting. You also reached out to many other people who normal fans didn’t know you knew. 

On this list, which Arthur had a hard time believing, were people like Sebastian Vettel, Kimi Räikkönen, Jensen Button, and Nico Rosberg. 

Arthur had tried to persuade you to not go to all your famous connections, but you were on a mission. He even threatened you that he wouldn’t take any offer since he didn’t want you to feel like he was using you. You only threatened him back when you told him that you wanted to do this and didn’t mid at you. You believe that you scared him since he never questioned you again. 

It was the day before preseason testing in Bahrain before you got an offer, or actually two, back. Arthur, keeping his promise to follow you until he found something, came with you. He was under the guise of being with his brother for support, but most knew that he was actually there for you. 

The first one came from a face time call from four time champion Sebastian Vettel. 

“Kind, it’s good to see you!” Sebastian’s voice echoed in your hotel room. Your laptop was on the desk. You sat on the second bed while Arthur sat in the rollie chair. Before, the two of you had argued about who got what seat. You sadly lost the game of rock-paper-scissors and was banished to the bed. 

“It’s good to see you too Seb! How are your kids?” 

A squeal could be heard from behind his office door. Sebastian smiled at the sound of his children. 

“They’re doing just fine. How are you doing Arthur? I know that losing a seat is hard but I was delighted to hear from Y/n when she told me that you weren’t giving up racing entirely.” 

You shot Arthur a knowing grin as to say “see, you still have a spot in this world with me.” 

Arthur spoke up, “Ah, yes sir. I was a bit discouraged. But she somehow convinced me to not give up.” 

Sebastian clapped his hands. “Well I do have an offer for you. However, it wouldn’t be for this year and maybe not the next. There will be a lot of preparation but I know you could handle it.” 

Arthur shot him a shy smile. “I’m down for anything at this point.” 

“Well, I have been in the talks about endurance racing. And as you know, I am getting a bit older, but I still want to be involved. So I need to come up with a team. I would either be a driver or the team leader, I have yet to decide. But that means I need to start creating a team.” 

The young Monegasque took a moment to bring everything in. “So you’re asking me to be on your future team. Even after all the mistakes I made in Formula 2?” 

The German winced. “You are just like your brother. A bit too self-deprecating but we can work on that. Like I told Charles, don’t waste it. Don’t waste your talents away by not trying. We will have to do months and months of training as to get over making mistakes, but that’s also part of life. We just need to learn from them. So what do you say?” 

The rest of the facetime call was filled with tears, smiles, cheers, and talks of sending over contracts to go over. You and Arthur were over the moon. 

He might not be racing in 2024 or even 2025, but he’d be doing something. 

Now, the next two offers came during media day when you had testing. Nico Rosberg and Jensen Button had apparently been looking for the two of you the entire day. Thankfully, it was just media and Max was the one to drive the new livery around for everyone to see. You just got to sit back and relax, well, as much as you could when you weren’t discussing data. 

Nico and Jensen both cornered you when they had the chance. 

“Good to see you again Brittany.” You shot Nico a smirk when you exchanged greetings. Arthur, polite as ever, shook both men’s hands. 

You smiled at the two older men. “Now to what do we owe this pleasure of this fine Tuesday?”

The two former drivers looked at each other before they casted their gaze at Arthur. 

Jensen spoke first. “We just want to preface about how terrible we feel about you losing your Formula 2 seat. It was your rookie year and you had some pretty bad luck.” 

Your eyes rolled. “Way to rub salt in the wound Button.” 

He shot you a glare, but Nico spoke next. “However, we have a solution. Y/n here told us about your taken offer from Sebastian. And we know that there are going to be weekends that you won’t have anything to do. So to save you from quote on quote from Miss L/n here ‘separation anxiety from missing your best friend’ we are offering you a type of paid internship at Sky Sports.” 

Jensen cut in, “Obviously you would be helping either Nico or I depending on what weekend, but you’d be interviewing, commentating, or taking videos of drivers throughout the race time.” 

Arthur had sparkles in his eyes, but you knew they were probably tears. With this offer, he’d be closer to you and his brother. You knew he didn’t want to be alone somewhere while you two were living his old dream. Well, it could still be his dream, but he told you time and time again that it was easier to put the Formula 1 dream in the past so that he could move on. 

That day was also filled with smiles and contract talks. 

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday were filled with you in the new RB20. If the fans thought last year was a rocket ship, this one had to be some type of vehicle from a Sci-Fi movie cause you think it was even faster. 

But, the Ferraris and McLarens were very close behind. The end of the weekend determined that Red Bull was still on top as you were able to take the fastest time out of the whole weekend, while you and Max did the most laps. 

You were practically vibrating in the debrief meeting from excitement. What this year would hold, you didn’t know. 

But you couldn’t wait to get started.   

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 it's go time

liked by arthur_leclerc, sebastialvettel, box_box_express, and 65,294 others

y/n.nation babygirl's new helmet - I'm in love!

sebastianvettel I see you're coming for my spot as Red Bull's golden child

maxverstappen1 sorry that was me, I have taken the seat y/n.89 sit down max, there's a new golden child

box_box_express middle picture is slaying

y/n-on-top I mean she did graduate from the university of servington with a degree in cuntology and slay sciences y/n.89 PERIOD

arthur_leclerc photo creds would be nice...

y/n.89 sorry ThurThur - EVERYONE ARTHUR TOOK THE MIDDLE PICTURE JUST LETTING YOU KNOW landonorris ok then.

redbullracing rookie of the year right there

y/n.89 I'm the only rookie? but thanks admin :D

iamred_iamyellow everyone was so close with only a few seconds separating the top three

ferrari'slastchamp this year is our year the-bulls sure - you all say that EVERY YEAR

f1 only six more days! see you drivers in the paddock

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[houseofanticipation]

You wake because a shifting balance of weight on your bed has caused your mattress to shake. For a moment you think it must be Christmas morning—that'll be your little brother, jumping on your bed to wake you up—but your room is still dark, and the clock on your bedside table reads 12:00 exactly. You squint at the person sitting on your bed. Definitely too old to be your brother...maybe your dad? But no, this person's frame is too wide, too bulky. The figure leans forward, and it suddenly occurs to you to be afraid, but all he does is pull the chain on your bedside lamp.

The man in your room is Santa Claus.

It doesn't occur to you to think this is a man dressed as Santa. One of your classmates might; you know most people your age don't believe in him, and you've learned to hide your own belief, lest you embarrass yourself, but you've never stopped believing privately. You know this man is Santa Claus in the same way you've always known Santa Claus was real: it's a feeling in your heart, a knowledge that you are loved, no matter what. You get that same feeling from this man.

"Santa?"

"Little Susie Summers," he says, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes. "It's so wonderful to finally see you in person. You know you're one of my favorites?"

Your eyes widen. "Really?"

He nods. "I mean it. You've kept me in your heart all these years, long after most children abandon me. I've so loved watching you grow into this beautiful, confident woman I see before me." His voice deep and warm and smooth, like hot chocolate. His eyes glitter behind half-moon glasses, and his enormous white mustache only accentuates his fatherly smile.

"I always knew you were real," you say, breathlessly, eager to impress. "Even when everyone called me names, I kept believing. I always stayed on my best behavior for you."

"I know you did," he says. "I have your list right here." Seemingly from nowhere, he produces a length of rolled up parchment, which he begins to unfurl as he reads. "All those times you helped young Cristopher with his homework, even when you wanted to go out with your friends...the way you check in on old Mrs. Rasherton every week...you're a real paragon of your community."

Your chest swells with pride. You'd do those things anyway, of course; goodness is its own reward. But it feels so wonderful to have your good deeds recognized by this man you so idolize.

"Of course, you've had some encounters with the naughty list, too. What child doesn't? That time at camp, for instance, when you allowed Trent Lipski to touch you under your underwear?"

You can feel your cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry, Santa. I tried to be extra good to make up for it."

"Or those times in the bathtub, when you put your private parts under the faucet?"

You look away. You can't stand the disappointment in his eyes. "I'm so sorry Santa."

You feel his hand on your cheek, gently pulling your gaze back to meet his. "Don't worry, Susie. No one can be perfectly good all the time, and your good deeds have vastly outweighed the bad. You are a good girl, Susie Summers, and that's why I'm here."

"Really?"

"Yes, my dear girl. You see, you're eighteen now and—"

"Almost eighteen," you say helpfully. Your birthday is January 7th.

"Close enough," he says. "You're growing into a woman, which means this is the last year I'll be able to bring you presents."

This comes as a surprise. You always known Santa Claus brought presents to children, but it never quite occurred to you that that meant he didn't bring presents to adults. "You mean...you'll never come here for me again?"

"I'm afraid so," he says sadly. "This will have to be goodbye. But because you've been such a good girl all these years, I've brought you one final parting gift, in addition to the ones below the tree downstairs."

"Really? What is it?"

His hand is on your thigh, caressing you gently. "You've been so good for me, Susie," he says. "I want to make you feel good. I want you to be extra good for me, one last time." His other hand is on your stomach now, furry white glove slipping under your sleep shirt. You're starting to be unsure if you want this gift, but you know it's rude to act ungrateful. "Can you be good for me, Susie?"

You nod nervously.

Slowly, one finger at a time, Santa slips the gloves off his hands. The skin underneath is like aged leather, wrinkly and soft. You gasp when he lifts up your shirt. "Look at this," he says, fondling your nipples. "Already so hard. I knew you had a naughty side to you."

No. You can't. You push his hands away, gently as you can. "I'm sorry Santa, I'm flattered, really, but I can't—"

Santa makes a clicking sound with his tongue, and all of a sudden your hands are being yanked back, toward the headboard. Some kind of cuffs clamp around your wrists, holding your arms far away from Santa's creeping, explorative hands. You look to your left and right, and see that they're not cuffs at all, but arms; thin, sinewy arms attached to a pair of thin, sinewy people no bigger than your forearm. They stare at you with large, unblinking eyes, and grin with mouths full of pointy teeth. They're strong, in spite of their size. You struggle against them with all your might, but neither seems remotely phased.

"You're a lucky girl, Susie," he says, playfully circling your areola with his thumb. "Most boys and girls never get to see a genuine Christmas elf. Meet Pepper and Ginger, two of my most trusted lieutenants. I could never do my job without their help."

The elf called Ginger—you can tell which is which because they wear name tags reading G. BREAD and P. MINT—pins your hand to the bed and sits on your wrist. She closes her eyes and begins grinding against the nub of your wrist bone.

Santa chuckles. "Of course, I make sure they get to enjoy themselves. I think that's the hallmark of any good boss, don't you?" He bends down and wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking and nibbling and groping at your other breast while he does it. You're afraid, but it feels kind of good, too. And you know Santa has your best interests at heart...doesn't he? When he comes up for air, Santa sees the tears running down your cheeks. "Oh, hush now, my dear, don't cry." He lays a tender hand on your face, wiping away a tear with his thumb. "I promise I'll be gentle with you. I'll make you feel good." He gets up on his knees and unbuckles his belt, pulling down his red pants to reveal white thermal underwear. This he unbuttons, and out comes...

You've seen a penis once before. Earlier this year, Daryl Dennis let you touch his at a party. You held it in your hand and stroked it up and down, delighting in the way he moaned and kissed you and told you how good it felt. When he came on your hand it snapped you out of whatever madness had taken you over, and you fled the room to wash it off. You hated yourself for weeks after that, tried to work extra hard to earn your place on the good list.

Suffice it to say, Santa's cock is about three times the size as the only other cock you've ever seen. It stands up so stiff that it actually touches his overhanging belly, and defined veins pulse up and down its length. He smiles when he sees you looking at it. "You came so close to letting Mr. Dennis be the first cock you ever felt inside you. I wish you could stay pure forever, but you're becoming a woman now. You should at least know what a real cock is like, so you have something to compare against."

He hooks his fingers under your waistband and pulls off your pajama bottoms and you panties all in one go. You're too afraid to fight back; those elves' teeth are sharp, and besides, you've spent so long trying to stay off the naughty list. A good girl would lie back and take it. You are a good girl. You are a good girl.

Santa's head is between your legs now. He's kissing your thighs, sniffing deeply, running his tongue along the outside edges of your crotch. One hand strokes his cock, and you can see he speeds up when his nose gets close to your pussy. "You know, Susie, I've found in all my years of life that the sweetest girls have the sweetest cunts. Did you know that?"

You shake your head.

"It's true. And you just might be the sweetest girl I've ever seen. So you can imagine how eager I've been to get a taste of this perfect, beautiful cunt. Let's get your juices flowing, shall we?" You gasp as his leathery fingers pinch the hood of your clitoris and pull it back, and a sound you didn't expect escapes your lips when his wet, warm tongue flicks across your exposed clit. He starts to trace slow, steady circles around it, taking his time, letting the desire build until your clit is throbbing with need. His moustache tickles your pubis as he closes his lips around your clit and begins sucking, first in long, slow pulls, and ramping up into quick, agonizing pulses. You begin to feel that feeling in your groin, the one you felt when you touched Daryl Dennis's cock, or when Trent Lipski put his hand in your pants, or when you hold your privates under the bathtub faucet. It's a tightness, a warmth, a wetness, and Santa must notice it too, because he smiles up at you. "Good girl. Let's find out what you taste like."

Suddenly his tongue is inside you, and you're moaning and arching your back and crying a little bit, because you're so scared but it feels so good. The elves grin and give you little kisses on your arms. Somewhere along the way Ginger has removed her pants, and she moans as her little elf pussy glides across your wrist. On the other side, Pepper's hands are on your pinky, lining it up with her exposed cunt, drooling as she pushes it inside.

When Santa comes up for air his glasses hang crooked on his face. "Hoooh, Susie, you must have the sweetest cunt I've ever tasted. Like caramel apples and candy canes. You really are one of the nicest girls who's ever lived."

You can't help but swell with pride at this praise. You've tried, really tried, and to know that it's paid off...it makes everything worth it. All the work, all the self-sacrifice, it wasn't for nothing. It's left a real, detectable mark on your body, and Santa can taste it in you. "Thank you, Santa," you manage to say.

"You're very welcome, Susie," says Santa. "And now that you're ready for me, I think it's time I made use of you." He straightens up, and flops his cock down on your stomach. It feels even bigger against your skin. You're afraid again. You know what's about to happen, and you're afraid it's going to hurt.

He throws his head back and moans with pleasure as the head of his cock parts your pussy lips. Your teeth grit and your heart pounds as you brace yourself for the pain, but it doesn't come. When he begins to push inside you, it's like he's stretching you out from the inside. There's no pain, only pressure, and increasingly, pleasure. He fills you up an inch at a time, expanding inside you, making you feel full in a way you never knew you could. You never should have doubted Santa. He knows what's best for you. He knows what you need.

"Ooohoho god, Susie," he says, picking up the pace now. "I knew you'd be worth it. I always know which good little girls will have the most delectable cunts. Girls like you, natural whores who make the choice to be nice, deny their nature to be sweet just for me...saving yourself for me...you know, somewhere deep down, that your little cunt is mine for the taking..."

He's right. He's completely right. When you fled the room after Daryl Dennis came in your hand. When you felt so guilty after Trent Lipski. What were you saying, implicitly? My holes are not for him. My holes are for Santa. You're moaning indiscriminately now, arching your back, your eyes rolling back in your head. The elves seem to be enjoying themselves, too; they moan squeakily as they ride your hands, apparently no longer worried about you trying to fight back. Santa's belly rolls across you with each thrust, and the heft of it is like a weighted blanket, comfortingly immobilizing. He grunts and moans with each thrust, the ball on his hat bouncing haphazardly. You feel something growing inside you, something wonderful and intense, something far better than the faucet on your clit, or Trent Lipski's fingers in your cunt. Your body is beginning to tremble, your legs bending and your toes flexing involuntarily. Suddenly you're afraid again; the sensation is too much, you can't handle it, you need to get away. Some animal part of your brain takes over; you're wrenching your hands free of the distracted elves, pulling yourself away from Santa's relentless cock, flailing your legs, kicking Santa in the solar plexus as he tries to grab at you. He doubles over, wheezing, and you know instantly you've done something terrible.

For a long moment the room is stock still. The elves seem just as frozen in fear as you are. Santa coughs, steadies himself against the bed. When he looks up, there's a darkness behind his eyes that wasn't there before. He clicks his tongue again, and the elves spring into action, grabbing you by the hair and turning you around so that your head hangs backward over the edge of the bed.

"I was going to give you a special present," says Santa, upside-down over you. There's a sick mirth in his voice that makes you shiver. "A Christmas present like no one's ever gotten before. But you had to go and be naughty." He says the word like it's the most vulgar epithet he can think of. "I was going to give you a son. My son. My heir. But my seed can't grow in a womb despoiled by filth." You feel a pressure inside you; it feels sort of like Santa's cock did, only harder, rounder, and growing. You lift your head to see what's going on down there, but it's all internal. It's getting painful now; you start straining to push it out. "The only thing your cunt is good for now," says Santa, a merciless twinkle in his eye, "is coal."

With a painful stretching sensation, a black mass crowns out of your cunt, spreading your pussy lips and stretching them wide as it pops out of you. It's a smooth, roughly spherical lump of coal, about the size of a baseball.

A leathery hand cups your chin and pushes your head back down. Santa's cock is inches from your face. "You're not going cocktease me, naughty girl. I'll get mine, one way or another."

Tears well up in your eyes as his cock parts your lips. You've never gotten coal in your stocking before, not once. You've spent your entire life being the nicest you could possibly be, and you had to go and ruin everything. You imagine what it would have been like to have Santa's seed growing inside you, your belly swelling with his son, your breasts inflating with peppermint-flavored milk. Instead you have his wrinkly, low-hanging scrotum slapping your face, and another lump of coal already forming inside your stupid, naughty cunt.

Santa forces his cock past your tongue, down your open throat. You gag, convulse involuntarily, but the elves hold you down, not to be caught slacking again. His belly drags across your face as he pulls back, and you spend a few seconds coughing and sputtering before he forces himself back down your throat again. Again, you gag, and when he pulls out this time you spit out a globule of thick saliva that collects around your nose and runs down your cheek. It goes like this for several more pumps: you gagging, struggling, crying, and him continuing to rape your throat anyway.

No, you think. Enough crying. You did something naughty, and now you pay for it. What do you always do when you catch yourself slipping into naughtiness? You're extra good to make up for it.

You steady yourself. Relax your throat. Santa is your king. Your god. Your everything. Your whole life, everything you do has been to please Santa. Now is no different. You start licking his shaft as it pounds away at your mouth. You can't see his face past his belly, but you can tell he likes it: the veins on his cock bulge under your tongue, and he groans with pleasure. Slowly, making sure the elves know you're not trying to fight, you lift your arms and grab the backs of his thighs, pulling him into you with each thrust. He takes the encouragement, picking up speed and enthusiasm. With one hand you begin to tenderly massage his balls, and with the other you stroke the base of his cock, the part that can't fit all the way down your throat. This is right. This is correct. My holes are for Santa, you think again. It's not for you to choose how he uses them.

You pop out another two lumps of coal, though you find that if you don't let them get too big it can be a somewhat pleasurable experience. You wonder how many nice things you'll have to do to stop them coming. You hope it isn't too easy. You moan as another one presses against your clit on its way out of you. You're desperate to rub yourself, but you can't take any attention away from Santa's beautiful, enormous, swollen, throbbing cock. That is your purpose.

With a long, shuddering groan, Santa presses his cock as deep as it will go. You feel hot cum shooting down your throat, collecting in your esophagus. He holds you there for a long time, your face in his overhanging belly, coal growing in your cunt. When he finally retreats you cough a huge glob of cum into your mouth. It tastes like cinnamon and nutmeg.

"Oh, little Susie," says Santa admiringly. "Even when you're being punished, you try your best to be nice." He sits next to you on the bed and begins gently massaging your throat. "It isn't enough to put you back on the nice list, but it's a start." He seems to think long and hard about something. "I'm a believer in second chances, Susie. I'll have to come back to this house next year for your brother anyway. Maybe I'll check in on you, and if you've been extra good..." he shoots you a twinkling wink. "I just might give you your special present after all."

Your head falls back in relief. You haven't squandered your chance! Santa is a merciful and loving god! The elves lay their heads on your breasts, petting your skin and cooing approvingly. The next thing you know, Santa is pulling up his pants, tucking in his undershirt, buckling his belt. He puts his hand on the knob of your bedroom door, but he turns back over his shoulder before he goes.

"Susie...you were right. Your holes are mine. No other cock, nor finger or tongue or any part of another person may penetrate them. But now that you're a woman...I believe it would be alright if you touched yourself, if you like. And know that I'll be watching." With that he's out the door, Pepper and Ginger in tow.

You get into a comfortable position in bed, head on your pillows, legs spread. You're slowly amassing a small pile of coal on your bedspread, and you're ready to go for another. You let this one grow a little while inside you, expanding until you can't take it anymore, then arch your back and close your eyes and furiously rub your clit as you birth it.

As a ball of coal the size of a small cantaloupe rolls to a stop on your sheets, your bedside clock clicks over to 12:01.

[jedi-hawkins]

Flower Sniping

The Clones all deserve flowers! Or maybe they think you deserve flowers 😉 Either way, love is in bloom this week for the Clone Flowers Fic Event!

Throughout this week, May 20th-25th, certain participants will be posting their own fics of Clones and different flower themes that were selected! The participants as well as the Clones and flowers they will be writing for are listed below and links to each fic will be added as they are posted! 💐 Follow the tag #cloneflowerficevent to see them all as they come!!

Event Masterlist

Written for an event with

@arctrooper69 - Tup, Rex, Gregor

@photogirl894 - Hunter, Wrecker, Fives

@nahoney22 - Fox, Tech

@totallyunidentified - 99, Cody

@dragonrider9905 - Hardcase

@l-lend - Wolffe

Make sure to go check out their entries too, we'll be posting throughout the week!

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Chosen Flower: Lilies, Forever Lily

Word count: 8.1k (don't look at me like that)

Warnings: Brief mentions of war struggles and death, suggestive fluff, some swearing, reader has hair, frienemies (briefly) to friends (idiots) to lovers, mutual pining, a bit of angst, Crosshair is somewhat bad at expressing emotions

Beta-read by @photogirl894

"So, why are you putting me on babysitting duty, Argus?" You grumble, rolling your fingers over a knot in your shoulder. 

"You're one of my best agents, Lieutenant, and this is important. I need your eyes on it." Your commandant says plainly, glancing over a few things on the holotable in front of you. 

You cock an eyebrow. "Seriously? The war has been going on for a year and a half. What's so important that the Republic is taking an interest in Scarif now?" 

Argus rolls his eyes. "Look. I didn't ask. It's some sort of deal that the Prime Minister struck. In exchange for food and medical supplies, he's letting a single squad come and scout Western Sector 14." 

"You've got to be kidding me." You scoff. "Sector 14? There's nothing out there, I would know, it's where I spent most my childhood." 

"Another reason why you're the perfect person for the job." Argus says with a smirk. "You know as well as I do, Scarif has been struggling. The trade routes rarely reach all the way out here to us. If the Republic wants to send some supplies our way for showing a few tourists around, why not?" 

You fold your arms across your chest. "How can I argue with something as logical as that?" 

Argus lets out a chuckle. "Then get ready to play nice, they'll be here soon." 

"When do I ever not play nice?" You tease back. "How long are they staying?" 

"Six weeks." 

A laugh escapes your lips. "The Republic better be sending the good stuff, then." 

"They're some elite team, Squad 99, I think. I've been told they're one of the best." Argus retorts.

Smiling, you roll your eyes. "That's not what I meant. If they don't have a bottle of Corelian whiskey, this won't be worth it."

Argus just shakes his head at you and exits the command center. "Outside. Ten minutes."

The squad's ship touches down gently and you adjust your rifle on your shoulder slightly, sinking your weight into one hip. As much of a front as you put up for Argus, you really didn't mind this assignment. It was pretty cut and dry; serve as an escort for Squad 99 while they sniff around the western sector for a few weeks. It would give you a break from the frequent relief missions you were usually running. 

Scarif hadn't seen any true action from the war so far, but the effects still reached the outer rim. Argus was right, the steady trade that once flowed from the core worlds had weakened to a trickle and now many of Scarif's provinces were riddled with conflict over the little resources the planet had left. That meant you were more often out running supplies, assisting in makeshift medical camps, or dissolving scuffles than anything else. 

Your interest in this squad increases as you realize their ship is a heavily-modified Omicron-Class attack shuttle. The ramp lowers and four men stride down, coming to a stop in front of Argus. The man in front removes his helmet, revealing a mess of long dark hair pulled back by a bandana. He holds his hand out to Argus. "Commandant, I presume?" 

Argus takes the man's hand. "Yes sir. Welcome to Scarif." Your commander turns and waves his spare hand to you. "This is my First Lieutenant, and the one who will be hosting you on your mission." 

"Sir." The soldier acknowledges you with a curt nod. "I'm Sergeant Hunter, Galactic Army of the Republic." He looks to the man on his right, who removes his helmet to reveal striking silver hair. "This is Crosshair, our sharpshooting specialist and my right hand." 

The Sergeant turns to his left, "This is Tech, engineering and data analytics." The soldier with goggles barely glances up when his sergeant claps a hand to his shoulder. "And Wrecker, weapons and demolitions." Hunter finishes, jerking a thumb behind him to the soldier towering over his comrades. 

"Right. Well, good to meet you all. The command center is right this way" Argus says, turning to lead the group deeper into the yard. 

"So, Lieutenant. How are the military operations going here? The Prime Minister easy to work with?" Sergeant Hunter asks you in a husky voice. 

"Hm," You have to stifle a chuckle. "I wouldn't really call us a military, Sergeant. We operate as a Coalition dedicated to the service of Scarif's people. The Prime Minister has his own division of special forces for ‘keeping order.’ We work with him, not for him." 

The soldier in goggles, Tech, takes a few quick steps forward to get level with your shoulder. "You use military ranks, do you not?" 

Argus steps aside to let you lead the group into the Command Center. "Mainly for ease of identifying our hierarchy of command." 

You gesture for the soldiers to circle the main holotable. "Argus is our main point of coordination and connection to the Prime Minister-"

"And the Lieutenant here is my first pair of boots on the ground." Argus says proudly. "You boys are in good hands."

A fond smile crosses your face at Argus' praise as you flip the holotable on, but you could swear the silver-haired sniper muttered something under his breath. Straightening up, a red pin highlights the command yard. 

"Alright. We're here." You say, pointing before motioning for the map to rotate and zoom. "Western Sector 14, where you all have requested to scout, is here. The base camp will be a few hours’ ride."

"We can't just fly in?" Tech asks pointedly.

"If you want to jump out of the ship and drop in with chutes, sure.” you say, shaking your head. “The jungle is too dense to make a landing with anything bigger than a one-man fighter anywhere near where you want to be." 

Sergeant Hunter glances at his men. "Alright then. Thank you, Commandant." He says pointedly at Argus. "The first wave of supply ships will come in tomorrow." 

"Fantastic, thank you." Argus replies. He moves to lead the group out the door and back out into the yard, but falters when he notices the squad's sharpshooter, Crosshair, sizing you up. "Is there a problem?" Argus asks, tentatively.

The soldier smirks, swishing a toothpick between his lips. "I just don't want to have to pull a civvy out of danger. We were told this planet was hostile." 

Argus' brow furrows. "I already told you, the Lieutenant is my best agent, and you'll respect them as such-" 

"No, Argus, it's fine." You cut him off, keeping eye contact with Crosshair. "If the soldier doesn't trust me, he doesn't trust me and nothing you say will change that." You take a few steps around the table to stand in front of the sniper. "By definition, yes, the planet is hostile, but they're bandits, raiders; people that have been driven to desperation. I can assure you, soldier, I've had my fair share of run-ins with them and I'm just fine." A smirk spreads across Crosshair's face and you narrow your eyes. "What?" 

"You called me 'soldier,'" he responds. 

You tilt your head to the side. "That's not what you are? Soldiers of the Galactic Army of the Republic?" 

His comrade with the goggles, Tech steps forward. "Technically, you are correct, but not many refer to us as such." 

"Well, what do they call you?" You ask, curiously. 

Wrecker, the tallest soldier is the one who answers this time. "Eh... Most people just call us 'clone.'"

You run your eyes back over the squad, each of them so different from the others. "You're- you're clones?" 

"You know we're GAR, but you don't know what we are?" Crosshair remarks.

"I didn't want to assume, the GAR does have a few divisions of enlisted nat-borns." You say simply with a shrug. "It’s not like you’re carbon copies of each other. Besides, it doesn’t matter how you came into this galaxy, you’re men, soldiers first before anything else." 

With that, you step past the sniper and back out into the yard. 

"We're packed and ready to go, Sergeant,'' you say to Hunter, gesturing to the group of gorsets standing tied nearby. 

Tech adjusts his goggles. "We're using equine species?" 

You shrug again, moving over to yours and stroking its face. "Only the rich can afford speeders out here. Plus, who can say no to a friend. Get your stuff loaded on the spare cart and we can head out."

Hunter leads his brothers back over to their ship and before you know it, they have their supplies all packed up. 

Argus grasps your forearm just before you mount up. “Be careful, okay?” 

You give him a reassuring smile, “You worry too much, Argus. My job here is easy. I’ll see you in a few weeks.” 

With that you slip your foot into your saddle’s stirrup and throw your leg over your gorset’s back. With a click of your tongue, it moves to the front, Hunter’s following closely behind. 

The first part of the ride goes pretty smoothly. You make small talk with the soldiers, or three of them, at least. Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker regale you with stories of their life and training as soldiers of the Republic and in return, you tell them your story as a nat-born. 

About an hour in, you come to a stop at a stream and let your mounts rest. You watch intently as the four brothers, take in their surroundings. You’ve always liked Scarif. You’d certainly seen a few other planets in your line of work, but Scarif and its dense forests always meant home. Crosshair settles on a fallen log while Hunter checks over their gear on the carts and Wrecker begins making friends with the gorsets. Tech, however, is wandering around with his face buried in his datapad. 

“Find anything interesting?” You say, approaching him. 

He looks up at you, his wide inquisitive brown eyes filled with excitement. “All the flora on this planet is fascinating. So many native species are unique to this biome. Of course, I researched them before our arrival, but to get to document them personally is a wonderful opportunity.” 

You smile at his curiosity. The clones’ homeworld, Kamino, probably left much to be desired. “Those ones are my favorite,” you say, motioning your chin towards some striking burgundy-orange blooms nestled in the undergrowth. 

“Ah yes,” Tech remarks. “Liliaceae Lilium Asiata. A fairly ordinary species though, not that remarkable.” 

You smile. “Their common name here is the ‘forever lily’ and while they’re not a rare species, they are special.”

“What makes them so special?” Wrecker asks loudly. 

“Here on Scarif, they’re often given as a sign of admiration or partnership. They bloom in early summer and also represent new beginnings. My father actually gifted my mother one when he asked her to dinner for the first time.” 

“That’s…actually quite romantic,” Tech replies. 

“And obviously it went well,” Hunter adds. 

A laugh escapes your lips. “Oh no, the date apparently went horribly wrong. My father made a complete fool of himself and accidentally tripped, knocking my mother into the fountain in the center of the village. There were probably thirty witnesses to the whole thing. My father’s family never let him live it down. When he asked my mother for a second chance, he brought two lilies. For their third date, he brought three. By the time they got married, he decorated the entire gathering hall with them.”

Crosshair hops up off his perch. “So why are you out here and not with them picking flowers, sweetheart?” He jeers. 

You cock an eyebrow at him. “They’re dead.” 

Crosshair stiffens at your response, but doesn’t retort. His brothers look at you with wide eyes. 

“Bandit raid,” you say plainly. “I was seventeen. Took less than a day for our village to be cleared out. Those who tried to hide food or resist were laid out in the street. A number of us survived and we made our way to the capital for refuge. That’s where I met Argus, and he gave me a chance to do more with my life.” 

Silence settles among you, the brothers unsure of what to say. 

You clear your throat, breaking their stupor. “Ready to move out?”

“Uh, yeah. Let’s go.” Hunter says, jerking his head at his brothers.

As you swing your leg over and settle into your saddle, Hunter catches your eye. “The color. I like it.” 

A soft smile crosses your face. “Thanks. I do too.” 

Once again, you take the lead, but this time your group travels in silence. The next couple hours are uneventful. Occasionally, Tech or Wrecker would point something out and you’d give a few words on it. A couple times, Hunter called for the group to stop, and you reassured him whatever noise he heard was probably just a kybuck. ‘Bandits haven’t been spotted in this sector for years.’

As you round a bend in the trail, your mount slows out of instinct. You can hear Tech mutter under his breath when the old buildings make their appearance. 

“Fascinating… Did you know this was here?” he asks. 

You glance around at the familiar ruins of your past life. “This used to be my home.” 

You pull your mount to a halt outside the largest building. “And it will be our base camp for the duration of your stay here.” 

“Do you come back often?” Wrecker asks hesitantly.

“Mm-hmm,” you answer as you dismount. “Once every few moons. It’s quite peaceful out here.” 

Crosshair’s brow furrows. According to your story, you all are currently standing at the center of the greatest tragedy of your life. He’s drawn to ask about your response, but his twin beats him to it. 

“You said raiders destroyed your village, yet you continue to return. That’s very brave.”

You smile at Tech’s words, pulling your bags off your gorset. “I wouldn’t say brave. It took me a while to be able to come back, but look at this place,” you say, gesturing to the buildings overgrown with flora. “You can’t even see the scars of the raid any more. No people, no conflict, no pain. With a little bit of time, nature came back and healed, same as I did.”  

Your response hits Crosshair in a peculiar way, but if you had asked him to describe it, he wouldn’t have had the words. Instead, he moves over beside you and gently takes a few bags from your shoulders before moving inside. 

The next few weeks pass with little fuss. The boys tend to leave at 0700 to go about their scouting missions and return around 1800 for dinner. Every few days, you’ll go along to lead them to a new part of the sector or provide information on the area. Most days you’re left to your own devices. You spent your first few free days setting a trap line along you r well-known foraging routes. Hunter had protested your hunting and gathering. He tried to explain they had brought enough GAR rations for everyone, but you were happy enough to prepare warm meals for the team. 

It didn’t take them long to crumble to your mouth-watering camp cooking, leaving the rations to be quick dinner solutions after long days. Hunter offered his talents once or twice to help you get a nice score, or Wrecker would help haul firewood back to camp. Tech even provided you with some new recipes you fused with Scarif-style dishes. 

Hunter took quickly to you, as did Tech and Wrecker, but the fourth member of the team always kept his distance. Any words exchanged between the two of you were more often than not snarky comments. Hunter would chastise him for it, tell him to stow the attitude, but you knew Crosshair didn’t mean it. And it’s not like you didn’t dish it back.

On this particular day, you were on your own. Crosshair had been particularly grouchy the last couple rotations, so Hunter had benched him for the day. Crosshair’s excuse had been a migraine, so you left him sleeping at base camp with a blanket gently draped over him and a canteen of water within reach when you started out on your own hike. 

It doesn’t take long to reach your shooting range. Your sniper’s roost is up on the crest of a hill that looks over a small hollow. Wooden targets are scattered from the undergrowth up into the branches of the dense forest around you. 

After taking a few practice shots in a crouched position, you lower yourself down onto your stomach. Just as you shift your weight onto your side to pull an extra mag out of your belt pocket, something catches your ear. A twig snapping, and it was from something much bigger than a kybuck. 

You freeze, waiting. After a couple seconds, you start creeping your hand down your thigh and gently grasp one of the throwing knives strapped there. The wind changes and something hits your nose, a scent - the camp soap. Smirking, you roll back onto your stomach like normal, keeping the knife tucked underneath you. You act like you're checking over your rifle, still intently listening. A couple seconds more and another twig snaps. Fast as lightning you roll over and send the knife flying. It buries itself into a tree - right next to his head. 

“Are you karking crazy?!” 

You sit up, a cheeky smile on your face. “That’s what you get, trying to sneak up on me, soldier.” 

He rolls his eyes. “You did pretty good, sweetheart, but Hunter would’ve noticed sooner.” 

“Hunter has been engineered with enhanced senses, that’s cheating,” you say, standing up and brushing the dirt off yourself. “Good to see you’re feeling better.”

Crosshair rolls his eyes. “I would’ve noticed sooner.” 

You smirk. “You are also enhanced, that’s still cheating. When do you think I noticed?” 

“Right before you threw the knife, when I snapped that twig on purpose,” he says, crossing his arms. “They’re stashed in your chestplate, you acted on instinct.”

“Wrong. I heard you when you stepped on that first twig, but I knew it was you when I smelled the camp soap. Very distinct,” you say with a wink. 

Crosshair gives you a look, maybe one of awe, but he glosses over the moment, looking out onto the shooting range. “What is this place?” 

“A shooting range. Never seen one of those, Crosshair?” You tease back, bending down to pick up your rifle.. 

He scoffs. 

“My father built it and taught me to shoot here,” you explain. “Part of the reason why I come back every so often. Here the rest of the world just melts away.” 

Crosshair steps closer to the crest of the hill. “Where are the targets?” 

Gently, you heft your rifle up off the ground and hold it out to him. “Have a look.” 

He hesitates. “Oh no, I-” Crosshair knows a sniper’s rifle is sacred. In the similar way as the Jedi and their lightsabers. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “I trust you.”

Crosshair’s eyes stay latched to yours as he gingerly lets you place your rifle in his waiting hands. “Not as fancy as your firepuncher, but I've made a few modifications,” you say proudly. 

Crosshair turns your weapon over in his hands with a sense of reverence before taking his stance. His form is perfect, though that’s no surprise. Hunter and the others had told you all about their enhancements. You watch as Crosshair sweeps the scope over the range, taking inventory of the targets camouflaged in the greenery. One particular mark catches his eye. 

“That one down there, how do you get to it?” He asks, pointing to one suspended in a tree and swaying gently in the wind.

You smile, that target in particular is placed at an odd angle relative to the sniper’s nest. “Take the shot and you’ll see.” 

The sniper braces in his standing position and lets a blaster bolt fly. He nearly growls in frustration when the bolt barely hits the edge of the target. “What the-”

“Good shot,” you say, impressed. 

“That’s not the center.” Crosshair sneers, lowering your rifle.

“You still hit it. I don’t think anyone else could have made it at that angle,” you reply. 

“You show me then if you’re so good, sweetheart.” 

Paying no mind to his snappy remark, you take your weapon back from him and lower into your crouched position. You center your sights on the target in question and wait a moment for it to stop bouncing as much. Once you’ve got its steady bouncing rhythm down, you move to focus on a shiny chunk of quartz sticking out of the hillside. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Your shot flies perfectly, hitting the quartz and ricochetting up into the dead center of the target. You look up at the Crosshair, making no effort to try to hide the smug look on your face. 

“Tricky girl,” he says, his eyes narrowing. 

“Got to consider all the angles,” you tease as you straighten back up. 

Crosshair reaches to his belt and holds up a couple shiny discs. “I prefer these.” 

“Smart,” you respond, shifting your weight into one hip. “And yet you still took the straight-on approach.” 

He smirks at you as you stand up. “Thought it’d be best to be direct with you.” 

“Oh yeah, what about?” 

“I don’t get you,” he says plainly. 

Your brow scrunches as you lean your rifle against a nearby tree. “What’s there to get?”

“Everything about you.” He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his silver hair. “I saw you when those scavengers came up on us scouting last week. You stared down the barrel of their weapons and tried to negotiate our way out. Then when they turned, you didn’t even flinch. You’re a good hunter, you’ve been feeding us this entire trip; yet you cleaned the wound on that kybuck’s flank and let it go instead of taking the easy score. Even with me, I- I can’t figure you out, nothing gets to you.” 

It takes you a second to realize that’s the most words Crosshair has ever spoken to you, and they didn’t even come with a childish jab. You just shrug. “I learned it's best to make the most you can with what you’ve got. I try to give everyone a chance, no matter how we meet and I don’t take more than what I need. I don’t have time to let things get to me; there are much more important, more worthwhile things to be taken care of. And if I can’t let something go, I bring it here,” you finish, glancing out at your shooting range. 

Crosshair looks you up and down a couple times, then turns his back to you to face the range. Then he speaks, so softly you barely catch it, “Do you mind if I let some things go here?” 

A soft smile crosses your face. “Of course. Here.” You reach back over and hold your rifle out to him, which he takes without looking at you. 

You can see his muscles shift as he lowers himself to the ground. Not wanting to intrude, you take a few steps back up the trail. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Oh, uh I was just going to go get some water from the stream, check my snares,” you respond, covering your true intentions. 

“You won’t have your rifle,” Crosshair mutters. 

“I have my side arm, I’ll be fine,” you reassure him. 

A soft sigh drifts from his figure laying on the forest floor. “Please… stay. I can check the snares with you later.” 

You try to hide your smile as you gently lower yourself to the ground, resting your back against a tree as Crosshair brings the scope of your rifle into position. And there you stay. 

At first, Crosshair doesn’t say much. He just takes his shots at your range, adjusting things here and there. After a while, you lean your head against the tree trunk behind you and let your eyes close. The sun is filtering through the trees as it rises higher in the sky, and birds are softly chirping. It’s peaceful, like always, and the rhythmic pattern of Crosshair’s shots roll through the forest like a heartbeat. 

You don’t know how much time has passed when you hear him shift.

“Here.”

Straightening up, you open your eyes and see he’s sitting cross legged, holding your rifle out. 

You take it back from him and move to stand up. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, still sitting on the ground. 

You tilt your head at him, for him saying he couldn’t figure you out, he seems to be the odd one. “The snares?”

“It’s your turn to shoot.” 

“Oh it’s fine,” you say, waving your hand.

You shift your weight again to stand, but this time Crosshair reaches out and grasps your bracer. “That’s what you were coming out here to do anyway, right? I interrupted you.” 

His words are so different from the ones that normally pass between the two of you. Not gentle, necessarily, but less defensive. You take a breath before nodding your head, just barely. Crosshair scoots out of your way. If you weren’t so focused on making the space between you a place where he could be open, you might have giggled at the way he moved, still in his cross-legged position. 

You slowly lower yourself onto your belly and bring your scope to your eye. Crosshair had adjusted things slightly, but strangely you didn’t mind. Usually it would irk you if someone had moved things on your rifle, but you had handed him your weapon of your own volition. It was nice to know that he felt so comfortable with you and had handled your rifle with such care and reverence. You take a few shots, aiming at various targets over the range. 

As you sit up to replace the mag, you notice Crosshair is studying you intently. You smile. “What?” 

The corner of his mouth twitches. “You’re a skilled sharpshooter. You even pace with your breath, impressive.” 

You rock back on your heels. “Took me some time to get it, but practice makes perfect.” 

Crosshair smirks at you, but not unkindly. “And that you are, nearly. Perfect- I mean…” He trails off. Again, You might have giggled at this newfound temperament, but you simply dust off your rifle a bit. 

“Oh yeah? Got any pointers for me?” you reply. 

The sniper moves closer to you. “If you’ll actually listen,” he jabs.

You chuckle. “I’m always listening.”

He gestures for you to take your prone position again and makes a few adjustments to your limbs. The time flies away from you as the two of you pass your rifle back and forth along with small conversation and stories. Crosshair doesn’t exactly soften, but he does open up to you a bit more. 

In giving you some pointers, he’s the most comfortable you’ve seen him the whole mission. Instruction and leadership are clearly his elements. You’re surprised at how attentive he is, continuously checking in that the adjustments he makes feel correct for your body. 

‘Every marksman is different.’ He had said. ‘Even if it’s the ‘correct’ way, if it doesn’t feel natural for you, then you’ll be tense or unstable and then it’s all pointless.’

You learn more than just that. Before you know it, Crosshair is telling you about his brothers, more than even Tech had told you. ‘Hunter’s helmet is specially modified to dampen his senses when needed.’ - ‘Although Tech is the smartest at basically everything, Wrecker beats him with weapons and explosives.’ - ‘Tech and I came from the same tube.’ - ‘Wrecker can tell you every ingredient in a ration pack just by tasting it.’

Some facts surprise you, like the fact that while Hunter has enhanced eyesight across the whole spectrum, Crosshair is actually farsighted and he has his holopad on the biggest text size to avoid wearing the reading glasses Tech made him. Other facts aren’t as much of a surprise, like the scar on Hunter’s chin was a gift from Crosshair when they were roughhousing as cadets. 

Crosshair even tells you what it was like growing up as ‘special’ clones on Kamino. ‘Clones are outsiders among the nat-borns of the galaxy. We were outsiders even among the clones.’ - ‘The advanced growth rate meant that for a few years from bio age 7-18 our joints always hurt. The bumps and bruises from training just blended it all together.’

You had no idea Crosshair could be so much of a talker, and he even chuckles a few times at his own stories or your side remarks. The conversation was far from annoying, though. You sat and listened intently, basking in his sudden willingness to share. Without warning, your chrono beeps, cutting one of his sentences short. You glance down and gasp at the time. 

“Everything okay?” Crosshair asks, his brow furrowing.

“We’ve been here all day.” You say. “We have to hurry if we’re going to walk the traps and get back to camp to meet the others.” 

Crosshair shoots to his feet, his jaw tense. 

Guilt settles in your stomach. “I’m sorry.” You look up at him, but he refuses to meet your eyes. “I was enjoying it here, but-”

“We have to go.” He says in a gruff voice. The walls are back up.

You solemnly gather your gear and the two of you walk your snare lines in silence. You’re tempted to respark the conversation you two had been sharing, but you can tell the moment is lost, and pushing would be futile. 

When you arrive back at base camp, the others are already milling about preparing the dinner rations. Hunter glances between you and Crosshair as you enter the camp, but says nothing. Not even when he notices Crosshair is the one carrying the score from your traps. 

Dinner is served as normal, but Crosshair takes his into the building serving as your bunk house rather than eating around the fire with the rest of you. You try to keep that sinking feeling out of your stomach to no avail. Had you pushed him? He was opening up to you, being receptive. Why did your chrono have to bring you crashing back to reality?

Your thoughts continue to swirl in your head as you wash up after dinner and you barely notice when Hunter appears beside you at the basin. 

“You okay?” He mutters, picking up a dish and swirling it in the water. 

“Mm, yeah,” you mutter. 

A chuckle rumbles deep in Hunter’s chest. “I saw you two today.” 

You can feel the Sergeant’s implication pressing in on you. “Oh yeah, he just got bored and wanted something to do.” 

Hunter shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. He likes you.” 

“He has a funny way of showing it,” you jab back, shoving the memory of your day at the range deep into the back of your mind. 

“He’s just...” Hunter sighs. “Figuring it out on his own terms. He takes patience. You’ve been doing well so far, just hold out a little longer and he’ll open up to you.” 

‘He was…’ You think to yourself. Instead you finish wiping the last dish and flick the water off your hands. “Well I don’t have forever,” you say shortly, turning to walk into the bunks. 

Grumbling nonsense to yourself, you turn the corner to your room and your breath catches in your throat. On your bed lies a single item. 

A bright orange and maroon lily.

After that day at your shooting range, little changes in your interactions with Crosshair. His snarky comments return, but his demeanor towards you does begin to shift. His morning jab was now accompanied by a cup of caf complete with a splash of milk, just the way you liked it. His hand was now the first to reach out when unloading gear to lighten your load, though it still came with some iteration of a sly ‘sweetheart’. There was even a time you had fallen asleep by the campfire and you woke with a blanket draped over you. Hunter swore up and down that Crosshair had been the last one to bed that night.

With two weeks left in the squad’s mission, you make your way to the range alone, lost in thought. At 0400, your comm had beeped with a message from Argus: you would be immediately moving on to your next assignment upon your return to the Coalition Command Base. A scuffle on Scarif’s opposite pole needed your attention, and reportedly the territory was still severely hostile. 

Though you didn’t want to admit it, your time hosting Squad 99 had been little short of a vacation. Just last night, Hunter had pulled you aside and offered you a spot on the team as a ‘Civilian Consultant.’ 

‘Even though we’re supposed to be a clone squad, it’s a way of skirting the rules.’ He had said with a wink. ‘It wouldn’t pay much, but you’d be taken care of.’

You had told him you’d think about it, but you couldn’t imagine leaving Scarif. Your people need you. As your thoughts tumble in your head, you nearly step on something as you break the treeline into your sniper’s nest. Not something - someone.

“You’re very observant today,” Crosshair groans as he stands up. 

“Sorry,” you say, shaking your head trying to clear it. 

Crosshair looks down at you, his brow furrowed. “Hey,” he says, his voice soft. “What is it?”

The moment your eyes meet his, the words start tumbling from your mouth. You tell him everything. The comm from Argus that arrived before the boys rose that morning. The stress that’s been on your shoulders as the First Lieutenant of the Coalition. 

You tell him about the pit in your stomach that grows every time you see a starving child, or a family ripped apart by raiders. Even about the pity you feel for the dying light in the eyes of bandits you arrest. How your homeworld was dying and there was little you could do about it. 

You find yourself telling him about Hunter’s offer, and your temptation to take it. How the allure of staying with the squad you’d grown fond of was near irresistible, but the guilt at your eagerness to leave your homeworld behind was clawing at your chest. 

Before you know it your breath is rising in your throat, your pulse quickening, your head beginning to spin, when suddenly your world becomes dark. It takes you a second to realize that you didn’t pass out, but your face is pressed to something… warm. Something solid and stable. 

The scent of the camp soap surrounds you as Crosshair presses you to his chest, one arm curling around you, the other cradling the back of your head. Your breathing begins to steady and your heartbeat slows to match the steady beating of his heart under your cheek. 

After a while you find it in yourself to mutter “Cross-”

“Shh.” He cuts you off, ruffling your hair slightly. “Don’t speak, just breathe for a second.” 

Another couple minutes like that and you feel your body begin to relax. Crosshair releases you from his grip and you feel your weight on your own two feet again. Again you try to speak. “I’m so-”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” He cuts you off again. “You have a lot going on and a lot to think about. Let the rest of the galaxy melt away for a bit. That’s why you’re here, right?” He says with a smirk. 

You let out a breath. “I suppose.” Then you realize. “Hey, speaking of - what are you doing here?”

Crosshair rubs the back of his neck. “Ehh. Needed some time to think?” 

“You don’t sound so sure.”

He just shrugs. “I’ve never been… good with talking.” 

You smile but take a step back from him. “You don’t have to be. We don’t have to talk at all.” You say, your words gentle.

Crosshair’s deep honey eyes look down at you. “The thing is… I want to. I just don’t…” He sighs, then leans over to pull something from his pack laying nearby. “Here.”

You look down at what he’s trying to hand you. It’s two maroon and orange lilies. Their bright colors stand out against his dark gear. You take them from him, delicately and look back up. His eyes are searching your face for any sign of caution. 

His shoulders relax with relief when you take one of the flowers and tuck it behind your ear. “How’s the practice going?” you ask with a smile.

Crosshair’s face brightens a bit at the mention of sharpshooting. “Good. I was hoping you would be here today. I wanted to show you something new.” 

Gingerly, he takes one of your hands in his and eases your rifle off your shoulder. Rather than handing you your weapon, however, he leans it up against a nearby tree. 

“Cross, what-”

“Shh” He hushes you gently, taking the second lily from your other hand and dropping the stem into the barrel of your rifle. He guides you over to the sniper’s ridge and picks his own weapon up off the ground. “Here.”

Your eyes widen when you realize what his intentions are. He’s giving you his firepuncher.

Ever so carefully, you let him release his prized rifle into your grip. “Hmm,” you hum as your hands dip with its weight. “I assumed it would be heavy but… wow.”

“Start on the ground, then we’ll work you up to standing.” Crosshair says, his voice steady. “Adjust the scope how you need it.”

You get settled and with him crouched beside you, you bring the scope up to your view. The sounds of the forest start to melt away as you zone in on a target. 

A little puff of air hits your ear as Crosshair leans close. "Be prepared for the recoil," he mutters in a low voice. "It’s strong, but don’t fight it. Whenever you’re ready."

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

The blaster bolt is nearly silent as it flies home to the center of the target. 

There your day melts away again as you and Crosshair pass a weapon back and forth. Fewer words accompany his rifle, but it feels as though more is said. 

The last two weeks of Squad 99’s mission pass uneventfully, but there is another shift. There’s a shift in how Crosshair treats you. After your first day at the range, he had warmed more to you, but now he’s like a tooka always at your heels. He’s not overbearing, just always present. 

You’re catching yourself smiling at his little quirks more and more. The way he can fall asleep almost anywhere, curled up in a tight ball. The way he claims he drinks his caf black, but you spot him sneaking sugar into it out of the corner of your eye. The way he’s always watching, even if his back is to you. 

He also seems more physically drawn to you. Of course, he never crosses a line, but in subtle ways. He tends to brush against you more when moving about your daily routines. His hands seem to linger on your body when adjusting your sniping form, and you could feel the heat of his palm on your lower back when he steadied you after you stumbled on a trail. His voice seems to drop and soften when he speaks to you, he nearly sounds like Hunter - it’s definitely genetic. 

Of course Hunter noticed too. After your second day with Crosshair at the shooting range, Hunter had pulled you aside again. You expected an ‘older brother talking to’ where he either would grill you about your intentions or warn you to stay away, but the first words out of Hunter’s mouth had shocked you. 

“You’re good for him, you know.”

“I beg your pardon?” You had instinctively said back.

Hunter placed his hand on your shoulder, you knew it was a gesture of his affection. “You’re good for him. With you, he can just exist.” 

“You’re imagining things, Hunter.” 

“I promise you I’m not. I know he can be difficult, but it’s not because he’s apathetic. It’s just a challenge for him to put words to what’s going on in that head of his.” 

“There are more ways to understand someone than with words.”

Hunter laughed at your remark. “Like I said, you’re a good match for him. In more ways than one.”

Hunter left the conversation at that. He didn’t push, but he would tease you under his breath about it. You hated to admit it, but Hunter was right, you had grown soft on the sniper and you would come to see the effect you had on him. His shoulders were less tense, his brow furrowed less, he turned his face to the sun more. Maybe there was something growing between you and him, maybe it was something worth exploring.

‘Karking Siths Hells. Collect yourself, woman.’ You scold yourself. You shake your head to clear your thoughts as your gorset moves around a group of trees. 

Here you are. The day had finally come for Clone Force 99 to ship back out. You didn’t want to admit it but it was hitting you harder than you thought it would. You were trying to keep that armor up, but you were sadly failing. 

When you reach the Coalition’s Command Base, the brothers immediately start moving their things back to their ship. Sadly, Argus had been called to the Capital so he wasn’t there to welcome you back. As you helped the brothers repack, each made sure to say their goodbyes.

Tech held his hand out, and you moved to return the handshake. Instead you found him grasping your forearm in a much more meaningful gesture. “It’s a physical form of farewell from our mother culture of Mandalore. It’s a symbol of respect and honor. You have been a wonderful host, and I will miss your company. You do not know how much it means that you not only answered my questions but returned them with some of your own.” 

Wrecker was next. Your hands seemed to dance in the intricate handshake you two had created. “I’ll miss having ya around!” He boomed. “I think you ruined the ration packs for me forever with your camp cooking. And Lieutenant? Thank you, for seeing us as more than clones, it’s been refreshing.”

Hunter pulled you into a tight hug like many times before. “I know I don’t need to say it, but take care of yourself. Keep in touch, I need someone to chat with that hasn’t thrown up on me.” 

This made you laugh for the first time today. “That could be arranged,” you tease back.

Before Hunter replies he looks at something behind you. Turning around you see it’s Crosshair walking towards you. You meet him halfway, searching his face for any sign of what mood he’s in. 

“Where did you disappear off to?” You ask trying to ease into a goodbye.

“Nowhere important.” He curtly replies, shoving his helmet on his head.

You bite your lip. “Okay… Best of luck, Crosshair. Stay safe out there.” 

“You too.” He holds his hand out, but unlike Tech he just gives you a simple, firm handshake. Only he doesn’t let go. 

You want to say something, but what would be the right thing? The two of you always seemed to communicate through actions more than words. There you two stand for a moment, awkwardly holding your handshake, and your eyes drift for a moment. 

When you look back at Crosshair he’s moving. Before you can register what’s happening his helmet is smacking you on the forehead, causing you to cry out and clap a hand to the sore spot.

Did he just headbutt you? Or was he trying to kiss you and forgot his helmet was on?

He lets go of your hand like he was shocked, standing straight as a pole. “I uh… I’ve got to go. Keep practicing, stay alive.”

Without another word he walks, more like runs, away from you and up the Marauder’s ramp. 

Hunter appears at your side obviously trying to contain his laughter. “That was interesting.”

“What exactly just happened?” You grumble, rubbing your forehead. 

“A very Crosshair farewell.” Hunter sighs. “Look, I know that we aren’t exactly built for relationships or even plain friendships outside of the GAR, but… don’t be a stranger. We’ve all come to like you and Crosshair, he won’t say it anytime soon, but he needs you.” 

Hunter squeezes your shoulder and jogs up the Marauder’s ramp, leaving you standing alone in the ship yard. 

Sighing and shaking your head, you turn and walk to the Command Center to gather the intel for your new deployment. After sitting through a painfully redundant briefing meeting with a couple squadron leaders with sticks up their asses, you stop by the cantina for dinner. The food weighs heavy on your tongue like glue. It doesn’t taste nearly as good as beans and rice Scarif stir fry around a campfire with a choice four troopers. 

The supply depot is your next stop to restock your personal supplies and check that your shuttle was loaded correctly. You still have a half hour before your crew is due for deployment, so you head over to the base stables to see a friend. 

Your gorset has his nose on the ground of his stall, snuffling around for remnants of his evening grain, but he raises his head at the sound of your footsteps. 

“Hey there, boy.” You coo softly at him. “What are we gonna do, huh?”

As you scratch behind his ear, your gorset turns his head for you to get to the other side and a gasp leaves your lips when you see his mane. 

Woven into your gorset’s thick locks are three bright orange lilies.

Your back aches as you make the hike from the ruins to your range. Your last assignment had been far from comfortable. The relief mission was supposed to be non combative, just transport of supplies and giving aid to the rebuilding effort in Northern Sector 7, but of course you weren’t that lucky. A band of storms blew through while you were there, sending refugees into the town you were based in. 

Your forces were already spread thin and the influx of people hadn’t helped. Then of course the raiders came. You were able to deescalate the situation the first time they showed up, but the second time they stormed the town with ballistics. The stockpile was pretty depleted at that point so at the very least the Coalition didn’t lose much. 

Argus had taken pity on you and said you had a week before he’d even think about shipping you out again, so you decided to go home for a few days. You hadn’t been back in months, much longer than usual, not since them.

The peaceful ruins of your village had felt emptier that morning when you’d arrived. You half-expected Wrecker to come barreling through the brush asking about dinner, or for Tech to appear beside you with some obscure question about your home world. 

You had to admit you did miss Hunter, he had his way of knowing what was going on with you without even asking. Though the temptation was there to take his offer and join the squad, you just couldn’t leave Scarif and her people. Hunter didn’t blame you though, he knew the pressure you were under as the Coalition’s First Lieutenant. Who would’ve done the job if you left?

You had exchanged comm frequencies with Hunter, but hadn’t heard anything from them, about anything. Not that you were expecting to. The fourth member of Squad 99 lingered on your mind more than the others, but it’s not like you were pining after him. 

Crosshair had made you no promises, nor had you him. You just wondered where he was, what his missions were. You wondered if he was okay, not just physically, but under the armor he put up around himself. 

The sun is already high in the sky when you reach your range. You take a couple minutes to go over your rifle, then take your standing position.

Your sore muscles shift as you bring your rifle up to your view and set the barrel on the rest you added to your shoulder plate. You sweep the range, checking the status of your targets, but stutter when you notice something nestled in the foliage.

 A bright orange lily.

Shaking your head, you keep sweeping the range, then you spot another lily. Then another, and another. Your mouth drops open as you lower your weapon. It couldn't be, could it?

The undergrowth behind you rustles and you know it’s him before he speaks. "Good to see you're practicing. We need you again. I need you again."

[alovesongtheywrote]

Cranberry Juice | Eddie Munson x Reader

♥ Summary:  Getting kidnapped from a grocery store wasn't exactly on your to-do list, but neither was having sex with your blood-drunk vampire boyfriend on the dead bodies of your captors, so... [Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader]

♥ Warnings:  18+, minors and ageless blogs dni. Violence, gore, kidnapping, gun related violence & violence against women, drinking blood, drinking blood in a sexual nature, biting, minor character death, derogatory terms used for the reader by someone other than eddie, unprotected sex, p in v sex, breeding kink, very brief dubcon, monster fucking, angst, fluff.

♥ A/N: holy fuck, i haven't written a fem/afab reader in years. i've also never written smut before, so this is new.

♥ Word count:  15945

♥♥♥

You would think that in the two years following the murder of Chrissy Cunningham and the supposed death of Eddie Munson, Hawkins, Indiana would have calmed down a little bit.  You would at least assume that they would put down their pitchforks and torches and give Eddie’s friends and loved ones some room to breathe- after all, Eddie’s name had been cleared of any and all crimes, and he was, as far as they knew, literally dead.

But nope!

Nope!  No!  No way!  You still couldn’t leave your house without receiving a thousand angry glares from a thousand angry hicks.  Really, you didn’t feel comfortable leaving the house alone anymore, and no one could blame you for that.  Between the threats you’d received, the shit you’d seen, and the way the town banded together to hunt down your boyfriend in 1986, you were more than justified in feeling unsafe.

This drove Eddie up the fucking wall.

You were his partner, the love of his undead life, and he couldn’t protect you from the same town that initially drove him into hiding- the town that he had died saving.  He couldn’t protect Wayne, either, or the Hellfire Club kids for that matter.  He couldn’t shield any of you, or stick by your side throughout the day- the wings and claws that Vecna had so graciously given him upon his return to the living made hiding a little more than necessary.  And hey, if those new features weren’t bad enough on their own, Hawkins still wanted Eddie’s head on a pike.  If any Hawkins citizen saw him like this, in a new and monstrous form, that would be more than enough of an excuse to murder him then and there.

In short, Eddie was helpless.  His new features, the claws and fangs which were meant to maim and kill were useless when it came to defending his loved ones.  He was entirely unable to take care of the people he loved most, and he hated it.  

Anger and resentment festered inside of him.  He worried about you whenever you left the house.  Even when you were safe with him, a dark corner of his mind still spiraled through all the horrible possibilities.  He wanted to keep you safe, to keep you unharmed and alive, and the idea that he wouldn’t be able to do that gave him a sense of dread like no other.  

And then his fears were realized.

-

It started out as a simple shopping trip.  You needed to pick up a few things, so you went out to get them.  That’s how most people go about grocery shopping.  It was normal.  Painfully average considering everything else going on in your life, and honestly, you kind of liked that.

You didn’t go out alone.  Max also needed to pick up a few things, so you brought her with you.  You were smart about it.  You both kept your guards up and your keys between your fingers.  You were safe.  Or you were until you fell for the faux sense of safety provided by the fluorescent lights and the bland music playing overhead- a sense of safety that would be brutally fucking shattered.

Before that, though, you were just looking at juice.

The grocery store shelves in front of you were filled with bottles and bottles of beverages.  For a moment, you pondered just how many forms of cranberry juice a company could make.  The answer was a lot, apparently.  

At your side, Max was fidgeting, impatiently tapping her cane against the ground.  You couldn’t blame her, you’d been staring at juice for like, five minutes.

“Hey,” her voice was quiet, “If it’s cool with you, I’m gonna go grab the-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you snapped out of your juice-induced haze, “Go for it, I’ll be here.”

Letting her go was your first mistake.

She nodded at you and left the aisle, ignoring the pointed glare served to her by a middle-aged woman who occupied the aisle with you.  As soon as Max was gone, the woman’s glare found its true target.  The killer’s girlfriend.  The Munson boy’s accomplice.  You.

Unfortunately for the woman, your attention was already back on the juice.

Apple.  Blackberry.  Blueberry.  Cranberry.  Cran-apple.  Cran-pineapple.  Cran-mango.  Cran-cherry.  Cran-pomegranate.  There really were a lot of cranberry juices.  In all seriousness, you didn’t actually care about juice that much.  It was just a nice distraction from the oncoming-

“Devil’s whore.”

Oh, yep, there it was.

You said nothing as the woman swore at you.  You tuned out her whispered rant about your audacity- the nerve you had to go out in public after dating that ‘child-murdering monster.’  You were used to this treatment.  Not everyone in Hawkins was this intense.  Some were worse, and some were better, but there were enough angry citizens kicking around for you to grow numb to the insults.  As long as they weren’t threatening your life, you couldn’t find it within yourself to care.  You just focused on the juice and let her voice fade out.

That was your second mistake.

You tuned back in to the sound of a click- the sound of a gun’s safety turning off.  Panic filled your body as you returned to your surroundings.  The woman was gone.  Where she had vanished to was a mystery, but you didn’t really care.  Not when, in her place, a man stood, aiming a gun right at your stomach.

After noting the gun, the first things you noticed were the man’s eyes- ice blue, cold, and cruel.  He wore a sweatshirt beneath a white and green varsity jacket, the hood of which he had pulled up and over his blond hair.  It was a clear attempt to provide your attacker with some anonymity- of course, that was instantly cancelled out by the print on the sleeve that read, “Hawkins High, ‘84.”  He was your age- and when you looked closer, you realized that you knew him.

Kurt Robertson.  He had been a classmate of yours, a jock who had treated “freaks” like you and Eddie rather poorly.  Clearly, he had continued his athletic pursuits given his muscular frame.  Fear pooled in your stomach as you realized that you were no match for him.  You wouldn’t have been a match for him even if he didn’t have a gun.

You put your hands up slowly, “Hi, Kurt.  It’s nice to see you, too.”

“Don’t even try it, bitch.  Come with me,” he grabbed you by your shoulder, pushing the gun into your hip.

“Uh, maybe,” you were playing with fire, “Can I ask what this is about?”

“You know full well what this is about.  That freak boyfriend of yours murdered Chrissy- he murdered Jason, too.  They were good kids, and there’s no justice for them.”

“So you decided to find some at the grocery store?”

“Shut up, bitch, I’m talking,” he slammed you into the shelving unit.  You yelped like a wounded animal.  Two bottles of cranberry juice fell to the floor, cracking open as they met the ground.  Red spilled across the tiles.

“I’m here, we’re here,” he gestured to the store’s exit.  The implication of backup made you shiver, “To do good by Jason.  And Chrissy.  Munson took their lives- we figured we’d return the favour.  Send his slut to hell for him.”

A crooked smile spread across Kurt’s face as he let you go, pulling back from the shelves.  He gestured to the glass doors again, “Now, let’s get a move on, shall we?”

“What, you’re taking me to a secondary location?  Too afraid to kill me where everyone can see it?” It was an attempt to escape- to convince this guy to let you go.  If you could get him to fuck off, you might be able to slip out the backdoor and get to Eddie.  If you got to Eddie, you would be safe.

“No,” Kurt pressed the gun back against your stomach, “I just respect this fine establishment too much to get your fucking guts all over it.”

“This is a grocery store.”

“Hey!” your head jerked to the side to see who had spoken.  Kurt did the same.  Max was standing at the end of the aisle, her groceries in one hand and her cane in the other.  She looked angry, murderous- you were proud of her for that glare alone.

“Is there a problem here?” she scowled at the man in front of you.  You felt the gun turn.  Its side pressed against you, hiding from view in the fabric of your shirt.  The barrel was aimed at Max.  Shit.

You turned back to face Kurt.  He wouldn’t look at you.  His eyes were fixed on the red-haired girl- his new target.  You had to protect her.  She’d probably be pissed at you for having that thought, but you had to protect her.

“There’s no problem,” you said, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice, “I just ran into a former classmate.”

Max looked like she didn’t believe you in the slightest, not that you could blame her for that.  Everything from Kurt’s proximity to you to the juice on the floor spelled out trouble.  You blinked.

“Actually, do you think you’re good to find your own way home?  I think I’m gonna be a while.  Just catching up, y’know?”

You blinked again- three short blinks.  Three long blinks.  Three short ones.  You hoped she noticed.

She stared at you for a minute, looking deep into your eyes before nodding.  She coughed out a quick, “Yeah, it’s fine.  See you around,” and with that, Max was gone.  You could only hope that your message had been received.

Kurt waited for a moment.  The doors opened and closed.  Max had left.  Now, it was just you, a man with a gun, and a dozen shoppers who didn’t give a shit about whether or not Eddie Munson’s whore girlfriend got shot in the middle of the juice aisle.  

“Kurt,” you tried, watching as he took in your surroundings and fixed his eyes on the door, “Chrissy was a good kid, and I’m so sorry that she’s gone.  She didn’t deserve to die, but I promise, Eddie didn’t have anything to do with it-”

He took your arm in a grip that would surely leave bruises- if you lived long enough for them to form.  You winced but continued on, trying again to free yourself diplomatically, “And Jason- Jason was extreme, you have to admit, but I’m sorry about him, too.  He did some awful things, but he wasn’t evil-”

“Yeah, you’d know a lot about evil, wouldn’t you?” Kurt sneered, pulling you out of the store and into the alleyway behind it.  A pickup truck was parked there, waiting for you.  Diplomacy had failed.  You had to try something else.

The first thing you did was grab the gun and shove it away from you.  Kurt’s arm went with it, and he stumbled slightly.  You stumbled, too, but your balance came back to you faster than his did.  You used your brief advantage to punch your assailant in the face.  Your fist connected with his jaw, sending Kurt right to the ground.

You shook out your hand and took a step away, momentarily stunned by your pain and your power.  The doors of the pickup began to open.  You ran.  You were being chased by former jocks.  You didn’t get far.

Two arms wrapped around you- one around your chest, and one around your neck.  You tilted your head down and bit as hard as you possibly could.  The guy screamed, letting go of you just as another pair of arms took hold.

You struggled, turning around in the man’s hold and scratching at his eyes.  Someone ran behind you and grabbed at your arms, trying to stop you.  You thrashed, hissing and fighting like an angry animal.  It was futile.

You were pushed to the ground and a gun was pointed at your face.  Kurt glared down at you, his eyes full of hate and his lip gushing blood.  The rest of the boys backed off for the moment, standing on the sidelines, watching their leader.

“I should kill you.  I should kill you right now you fucking bitch.  Send you to hell with your Satanic fucking boyfriend.”

“Then do it,” you barked, adrenaline and impulse speaking for you more than anything else, “Kill me.  Unless you’re scared to do it you quivering pussy-”

Kurt slammed the gun into the side of your head.  Your vision went black.  Your hearing faded to a soft buzz.  Blood dripped down the length of your face.  You didn’t feel it.  You couldn’t feel anything.  You didn’t hear the panicked whispers of the jocks, nor the quietly exclaimed, “Holy shit, dude!  You fucking killed her!” or the, “She’s not dead, just knocked out, calm the fuck down,” that followed it.

For the moment, you were out of the game.  

The boys loaded you into the truck as fast as they could.  Their arms held you down, their hold on you tight, as if your unconscious body would spring up and perform a series of badass jiu-jitsu moves on them.  That didn’t happen, but they wanted to be prepared.  

The pickup sped out of the alleyway, putting the grocery store in its rearview mirror with law-breaking speed.  If any of the jocks had bothered to look in said rearview mirror, they would have noticed a red-headed girl using the payphone that stood near the grocery store parking lot.  

“Eddie?  It’s Max.  We have a problem.”

-

You woke to the stench of rotting wood and decomposing hay.  Beneath you, a filthy concrete floor provided a cold embrace.  Small stones and various pieces of dirt and debris dug into your soft flesh.  In this position, your leg was twisted under your weight at an awkward angle.  

Damning the discomfort, you kept still.  Every part of you was tense, ready, waiting for some sign or sound of your abductors.  Nothing happened.  The only sound was the faint scurrying of mice, and the wind blowing through the trees outside.  Still hesitant, you opened your eyes.

Most of the structure around you was made of decaying wood.  Planks and beams extended across a vast room, stretching up to a high ceiling to meet with crumbling rafters.  In some places, red and white paint had been applied to cover up some of the damage, but after years of neglect, the attempted solution had faded and chipped away.

Beams of golden sunlight streamed into the barn through dirty glass windows, and through a large square hole in the wall that had once housed a door.  Far above your head, shitty old lights buzzed harshly, illuminating all of the grime that the sun couldn’t reach.  

Outside, you could see a weed-filled field running off to a line of trees in the distance.  Brambles twisted up near the barn’s entrance.  Wildflowers bloomed among nettles and thorns.  Vines tangled with the faulty wood of the walls.  Even inside the barn, little sprouts popped up through cracks in the concrete.  Dandelions puffed near rusted old farming equipment and piles of wasted hay.

This place was oddly beautiful- and clearly abandoned.  You were far from help, and from the sound of it, you were completely alone.  

Cautiously, you got to your feet.  The spot of concrete that had served as your pillow was stained red.  You didn’t want to think about that too hard.  Putting it out of your mind, you took a few shaky steps, stumbling your way toward the exit.  Your bruised body screamed in protest.  The sound of your footfalls echoed through the barn.  You kept going.  It wasn’t like you had much of a choice.

A rusty pitchfork lay against the wall a few feet from the hole in the wall.  Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have touched the thing for fear of tetanus.  Unfortunately, these were not normal circumstances.  You armed yourself quickly and continued on, inching forward until the concrete turned to gravel underfoot.  

You didn’t make it far.

The sound your movements made alerted your captors to the fact that you were awake.  You could hear something drop around the side of the barn- something heavy.  Male voices swore loudly.  The sound of curses and other exclamations rang through the field, polluting the otherwise beautiful golden hour.  

You looked around, desperately searching for a place to hide.  You found nothing.  There was no hiding place among the weeds and brambles, no space for nature to pull you in and protect you.  Your fists tightened around the pitchfork as you realized that this would come down to a fight.  

Unfortunately, you were right.  

Jocks ran out from behind the barn like ants swarming from a hill.  Someone cried out, “Skin only!  Don’t kill her yet!”

You vaguely recognized some of the faces before you- the first one was Andy, one of the jocks who had been after Eddie in ‘86.  You were able to push him back with your makeshift weapon.  The next jock, unfortunately, got much closer.  The smell of weed assaulted you, which was quickly followed by an actual assault.  A fist met your cheek, and you staggered back, keeping yourself up with the handle of the pitchfork.

The jock didn’t let up.  Another punch came your way, but you managed to step back and avoid it.  The guy kicked at you weakly, but you easily dodged that, too.  In retaliation, you raised the pitchfork and brought it down flat over the guy’s head, knocking him to the ground.  

Alas, you were still surrounded.  Five more jocks were perfectly ready for a fight, and you were quickly running out of strength and luck.  Panic and pain surged through you as another hit connected with your jaw.  A fist collided with your stomach.  You fell to your knees.  Another hand met your face.  A ring broke the skin of your lips.  Your chosen weapon fell to the ground as blow after blow fell upon you.  

You did your best to shelter yourself from the attack.  Sharp aches echoed through your limbs with every blow.  You tried to separate yourself from the moment, mentally and physically.  Curling into a ball on the ground and disassociating didn’t exactly make you feel brave or heroic, but it kept you from taking too much damage.  Still, you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day- if you lasted that long.

You barely noticed when the kicks and punches stopped coming.  You only snapped out of it fully when someone grabbed your arm.  You winced.  It was the first reaction they’d gotten from you since the attack began.

“Good,” Kurt grinned, “We didn’t break you.”

You said nothing, biting back several sarcastic remarks.  None of them seemed appropriate for the situation.  Instead, you slid your tongue over your lip, collecting the blood that pooled there.  The next time Kurt opened his mouth to speak, you spit in his face.  

“You fucking bitch!” Kurt shrieked, wiping frantically at his face, “Tie her up and get her back in the barn.  We’re gonna take this slow, got it?  She doesn’t get a quick death.”

Kurt’s lackeys obeyed.  Someone bound your wrists together in front of you with duct tape.  Rough hands pulled you up from the ground and shoved you back toward the barn.  Fear began to take anger’s place as they threw you to the concrete.  Blood dripped from your lip to the floor.  You watched as it bleed between rocks and cracks below you.  How much blood would you lose tonight?

Your heart raced.  Breath escaped your battered lungs, but you couldn’t seem to pull any air in.  Kurt glared down at you, his form outlined by the light of the setting sun.  He looked at you like you were some sort of vermin he had to dispose of.  You were sure that in his eyes, that was the truth.  

The gun was in his hand.

“Remind me, Andy.  How did they find Jason’s girl again?”

“I dunno.  They didn’t even let her parents see her face.  But Patrick,” Andy knelt down in front of you and grabbed your chin with two fingers, forcing you to look at him, “I got to see Patrick.  All of his bones were shattered.  Some kind of freak ritual, I guess.”

“Well, we don’t have a freak ritual, but,” Kurt aimed the gun at your leg, “We can always improvise.  Answer me this, boys- will a bone break apart if you hit it with a bullet?”

He didn’t wait for an answer.

His finger wrapped around the trigger.  

A deafening bang echoed off the barn’s walls.

The sound didn’t come from the gun.  Something had crashed into the roof.  Dust reigned down on you and the boys as you all looked up, peering at the ceiling.  Above you, the old lights began to flicker.  The air seemed to chill by a few degrees.

The jocks staggered slightly, their eyes off of you and fixed on the ceiling.  They all jumped as the horrendous screech of tearing metal met their ears.  Whatever had landed on the roof, it was now clawing its way off.  The boys turned to face the door, gripping their weapons and putting up their fists.   

An inhuman sound split the calm twilight.  You knew it well- that unnerving, predatory growl.  You’d heard it a few times before, while running for your life in the Upside Down.  While you watched the bats tear your lover apart.  You fell back, crawling deeper into the barn.  

The lights flicked off.

When they came back on, Eddie was standing in the would-be doorway of the barn, wings spread and fangs bared.  

“Is that-?” one of the jocks whispered.

“Munson,” Andy spat.  Kurt raised his gun, aiming the barrel at its new target.

He didn’t get the chance to shoot.

Eddie attacked first.  He flew forward, seizing the face of the nearest man in his claws.  In seconds, the man’s head was nothing more than a bloody mess.  Screams filled the air as the first jock fell to the ground.  Eddie fell with him, teeth to the man’s neck as blood pooled around them, a blood-red mirror on the concrete floor.  

Your attackers stood stunned as Eddie moved on, leaving a body behind.  Garnet drops flew to the floor as Eddie tore the next attacker into tiny little pieces.  You were almost hypnotized by the way Eddie’s teeth sunk into the guy’s neck, by the way Eddie’s claws tore through his flesh.  You could practically hear the sound of blood draining from his veins.  When he pulled back, Eddie’s sweet brown eyes were blood red.

He was quick to jump at his next victim, claws and fangs tearing, and slashing, and biting until the man stopped moving.

It was only after that third man’s body was drained that your attackers shook themselves from their reverie and began to retaliate.  They’d been aching for a chance to hurt Eddie for years.  Now, they had even more of an excuse to kill him- if Eddie was a freak before, then what was he with wings and fangs?  To them, he was a monster.  He always had been, and he always would be.

They attacked.  

It wasn’t too effective, all things considered.  A fist flew at Eddie, and in response, he grabbed the offending hand, pulled the man close to him, and put his claws through the man’s chest.  You almost felt sick at the sight of it- your boyfriend’s hand, rings and all, coming through the back of a man who beat you minutes before.  

You knew Eddie was stronger now, inhumanly so, but you had never seen him use that strength like this- not on a person, at least.  You were never afraid of Eddie.  You knew that he would rather die than hurt you.  But watching what he could do to a human- it filled you with unease, and with some other emotion that you refused to name.  

That nameless emotion screamed in your ears as Eddie pulled the man towards him using the hand still in his chest.  Eddie brought his fangs to the man’s throat and drank.

The sound of wood splintering filled the air as Eddie blocked a blow from a bat with his claws.  He pulled his mouth away from his latest victim’s neck so that he could handle the weapon.   He discarded the bat quickly, throwing it clear across the barn.  He threw the wielder next, impaling him on some old farming equipment.  The dandelions that lived beneath the aged machine were showered in a gush of ruby and wine.   

Andy was next.  He came at Eddie with a crowbar, and your stomach turned as you realized that all the jocks’ weapons- the bats, the crowbars, and the gun- were meant for you.  You winced as Andy managed to land a hit, striking Eddie in the shoulder with enough strength to down a regular man.  Fortunately, Eddie was not a regular man.  He seized the crowbar and bent it, letting it fall to the floor.

“You- you killed Chrissy!  And Patrick, and Jason-!”

Eddie’s eyes bore into Andy’s, speaking untold volumes, simmering with rage.  Eddie wiped the blood from his mouth and took a step toward the jock.

“I didn’t kill any of them.  I didn’t touch any of them.  But you?  You made my girl bleed.  You’re gonna pay for that.”  

In seconds, Andy was on the ground, unconscious or dead, you couldn’t tell.  Blood dripped from his nose and mouth.  Eddie didn’t bother drinking from him.

For a moment, then, the world fell silent.  Eddie’s eyes met yours across the barn, across the sea of blood that he had spilled to protect you.  Despite the gore, despite the blood that stained Eddie’s hands and the space under his nails, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him.  He was here.  You were safe now.

But thinking that was your third mistake.

Eddie smiled back, and as he did, another ear-piercing bang echoed through the barn.  There was nothing on the roof.  There was nothing clawing down to the barn.  There was nothing but you and Eddie, Kurt and his gun.

Eddie brought his hand to his side.  When he moved it away, his skin was stained with both his blood and the blood of those he’d slain.  You screamed.  Eddie fell to his knees.  Kurt took aim again.  He levelled the gun at Eddie’s head.

You leapt at Kurt, using your bound fists as a weapon.  You caught the man by surprise, knocking him right to the ground.  The gun slid across the floor, away from both of you.  Kurt quickly took the advantage, rolling over and pinning your hips to the ground with his.  He raised his fist and brought it down on your face, once, then twice.

He didn’t land a third punch.  Eddie tackled him off of you, hurling Kurt’s body away from yours.  He stayed in front of you, protecting you from Kurt, blocking him from view.  He was your shield, keeping you safe and out of the other man’s reach.  Eddie snarled like an animal- a predator.  It was a warning to Kurt.  A message telling him, on no uncertain terms, to stay put.

Kurt did no such thing.  He jumped at Eddie.  Thick fingers dug deep into the bloody mark on Eddie’s side.  He cried out in agony- the sound was something akin to a roar.

“You’re a monster,” Kurt yelled, his hands now covered in the dark cranberry shades of Eddie’s blood,  “You’re a FUCKING MONSTER!”

Eddie stumbled backwards, a pained gasp leaving his lips.  Your attacker showed no mercy.  He advanced, landing a hit on Eddie’s jaw.  Eddie fell to his knees.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time,” Kurt reached for the gun.  He couldn’t find it.

Another shot rang out.  

The sound echoed around the barn.

Blood spilled out from the brand-new bullet wound in Kurt’s chest.  He fell to the ground with a dull thud.  His blood pooled beneath him, like cranberry juice on the floor of a grocery store.  Another blood-red mirror to reflect another lifeless corpse.  Another red stain on the concrete.

You stood behind him, gun held tightly in your bound hands.

Silence followed.  You could hear Eddie’s panting, and the sound of your heartbeat rushing in your ears.  The busted farm lights buzzed overhead.  Outside, in the twilight, cicadas sang, serenading you both.  Each breath you took was tainted by the iron scent of blood.  A chill danced up your skin.  The barn was still cold- so fucking cold.

Eddie was struggling.  New blood coursed through his system, making every inch of him feel warm.  Something beneath his skin started to itch.  He wanted to move.  He wanted to hunt.  He wanted you.  He wanted to see you spread out before him, breathless and quivering, completely drunk on his cock.  He wanted the taste of your blood to stain his tongue.  He could feel an unending pulsation spread through him, driving him forward, almost controlling him in a way. His eyes met yours for just a moment before he forced himself to look away.  A growl left his lips.

Across the room, you watched Eddie’s silent crisis, completely unaware of the feral desires harboured behind his big doe eyes.  His claws curled at the concrete.  You could hear them scratching against it- almost carving through it entirely.  His breath seemed to come faster and faster, his chest rapidly rising and falling with every second that passed.  You panicked, slightly, taking a small step towards him as your fear for his safety overtook your brain.

You lowered the gun.  

“Eddie?” You called out, shattering the quiet with your desperation.  Your voice was weak, shaking.  You sounded broken.

In an instant, Eddie was on his knees before you.  His cold clawed hands ran up your thighs and over your hips, slender fingers checking for hidden injuries, leaving goosebumps in their wake.   His movements were gentle, though they edged on desperate, almost animalistic.  Your heart twinged with guilt as sparks flew from each place he touched.  Despite the situation, you wanted more of this- more of him.

You got just that when his lips joined his hands.  He painted each part of you with kisses, brushing his mouth over your knees, your thighs, your hips.  He paused over the faint purple of a forming bruise on your leg, his touch hovering over it slightly as passionate concern tore a growl from deep within his chest.  You could feel his breath against your skin, hard and fast, nothing short of panicked.  His fear for you melted your heart.  You whispered his name.  It came out as a plea- a blasphemous prayer in a God-fearing town.

“I’m here,” he replied, his voice low, “I’m right here, sweetheart.  I’ve got you.  Are you alright?”

You nodded, trying to breathe again as you adjusted to the safety of his presence.  His hands slid up your body as he leaned in, pressing his lips and then his teeth against the soft skin of your thigh.  He bit down, enough to mark you but not enough to make you bleed, “I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you.  I promise.”

You whimpered, taking his chin between your fingers, urging him to meet your eyes.  His face was pale, and his normally messy hair was wild and slightly damp from sweat.  Blood spilled from his bottom lip.  You couldn’t tell if it was his.  Gently, you brushed the blood away with your thumb.  He leaned into your touch, shutting his eyes for a moment, letting himself be there with you.  When he opened his eyes again, there was something dark contained in the sweet brown of his irises- a grim determination.

“Baby,” he groaned, raising a hand to your wrists, “I’m gonna untie you, and then-” he paused, taking a deep breath.

“And then?”

“And then I need you to run.”

“What?  Why?  What’s wrong-?” a fresh wave of panic shot through you at Eddie’s warning.

Eddie paused for a moment.  When he spoke again, he almost sounded afraid, “It’s nothing.  Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.  I just- I need you to run from me.”

“Eddie, what do you mean?”

He didn’t answer.

“Eddie- Eddie, please-”

He dug his fingers into your thighs, pulling you down and knocking you onto your back.  A small cry escaped you.  Your heart began to pound in your chest as one of his massive hands curled in the dust beside you.  In the time it took to blink, he was leaning over you, caging you in with his body.  One of his legs found its home between yours.  The way he stared down at you was a new kind of desperate- he looked hungry.  Empty.  Starving.

“I’ve had too much blood tonight, baby,” he leaned in, nipping at your throat, all teeth, no fangs.  He made a point not to bite, “And it did something to me.”

“S-something?”

He slipped his hands into yours, pinning your arms above your head by your still-bound wrists.  He pulled back to look at you, ravenous devotion clouding his eyes, “Something, baby.  I don’t know what, but I-”

He cut himself off, looking away from your face and shutting his eyes tightly as if he could somehow fend off what he was feeling by pretending to be somewhere else.  His grip on you tightened, and you fought off the urge to whimper.  Again, you whispered his name.

“I want to taste you,” Eddie sounded horrified at his own words, but he didn’t stop, “I wanna feel you succumb beneath my hands.  I want to feel your heart race for me, but I can’t tell whether it’s your blood I want on my tongue, or you.   And I- I can’t hurt you, so I need you to run, okay?”

His eyes were still closed.  He still refused to look at you.  He seemed so deeply ashamed- and yet, heat pooled inside you, flowing down to your core.  You drew in a breath, your chest rising sharply.  Blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your face until everything beneath your skin felt like fire.  Your eyes widened.  Your thighs shook slightly.  Any sense of self-preservation you had was throwing itself out the window in the wake of the fire that Eddie had unknowingly set inside of you- a fire that you had no intention of putting out.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed at your physical response.  He leaned down, lips brushing against your ear, “Are you afraid?”

“Afraid?  Of you?” your voice shook, and your body trembled beneath him, but a small smile took over your features at the thought, “Never.”

Eddie pressed his forehead against your shoulder.  A small grin crossed his features, though there was no joy in it.  There was something tragic in every movement he made.  A desperate longing drove every action- a want for something he could not have.

“Goddamnit, I love you,” he whispered.  His words were almost a whine, “But I need you to get out of here, okay?  I need you to get somewhere safe, somewhere away from me, and I need you to stay there.”

He pressed his lips back to your neck, sucking your skin in between his teeth with enough pressure to bruise, but not to break.  His claws bit into the tape, beginning to tear it.

“Eddie-” you spoke fast, panicking at the thought of leaving him like this, “Eddie, I’m not going anywhere.  Not when you’re hurt.  Look, I know you’re afraid to hurt me, and I know that you think you’re a monster, but you’re not,” you flushed as your voice broke, “You’re not a monster, Eds.  You- you make me feel safe.  I want to stay.”

He stopped tearing at the tape.

“Eddie,” you sounded more sure, “I’m here.  I’m staying, and you won’t hurt me, you won’t lose control-”

“You don’t know that,” he hissed, his voice filled with so much self-loathing that the sound of it broke your heart.

“But I do.  Eddie, everything you did tonight, you did to save me.  To protect me.  You aren’t gonna hurt me.  You’re not-”

His hand was on your throat.  He didn’t squeeze.  There was no pressure, but his claws pricked in against your fragile skin.  You should have been afraid of him, or at the very least you should have feared for your life.  Eddie was dangerous.  You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, but you’d just witnessed him murder several people with the claws that were now against your throat.  But in fear’s place, that deep longing still burned inside of you.   

”Baby,” Eddie warned, “I need you to understand.  There is so very little inside of me that wants to be nice, and there is so much of me that wants to-”

A sharp sting spread out from your neck as his claws drew the tiniest drops of blood.  He leaned closer to you, to your neck, “I don’t want to show mercy or kindness.  I want to fuck you until my cum is spilling out of you, until you can’t move, and then I wanna keep going.  I want to use you until you know that that pretty little slit between your legs belongs to me.  I want to claim you.  To own you.  To ruin you for everyone else.  I want you to bleed for me, and that is terrifying.”

He paused, releasing your throat from his hold and bringing his lips to your neck.  He lapped at the drops of blood that spilled from the pinprick-like wounds he’d made.  The second his tongue was on you, he took his other hand off your wrists and moved his touch down your body.  He stopped at the hem of your shirt, his fingers biting into the material, almost tearing it like they had torn your skin just moments before.

“Sweet girl, I wanna fuck you until it hurts- fuck you while we’re surrounded by the bodies of our enemies- and then I want to drain you.  I am a monster.  And I want you the way a monster would.  Do you understand?”

Again, you should have been afraid.  You should’ve let him free your wrists, and then you should have run away.  You should have screamed.  

Instead, you moaned.  

You couldn’t help it.  It just sort of slipped out of you- his words, the intensity of his gaze, the sweet sting at your neck- it all poured gasoline on the already raging fire burning inside your core.  Your legs fell apart for him, thighs spreading wide as arousal pooled between them.  Eddie looked a little surprised.

“Did you- did you just fucking moan?”

You grumbled, desperate to hide your face in shame.  Your humiliation doubled when you realized that with Eddie’s heightened senses, he could probably tell that you wanted him.  He could undoubtedly hear the racing of your heart and smell the want between your legs.

“You fucking heard me,” you sighed, looking away in defeat, “But you- you can’t just say shit like that.  You have to know that I want you.”

“You want me?  To what, to kill you?  Because-”

You cut him off, sighing again at your boyfriend’s dramatics, “Oh my god, Eddie, I  want you inside of me.”

He froze for a second, stunned into silence.  You took that as a cue to carry on,  “I want you to fuck me. To claim me.  I want you to use me, to ruin me, whatever, I just want to be yours.”

Eddie remained quiet, though his features had softened slightly.  You turned back to face him, shoving your shame out of your mind.  You sat up in his hold, letting him wrap his arms around your waist as you encircled your still-bound arms around his neck.  His eyes were still wide with shock, but there was an undeniable sense of adoration within them.  In turn, Eddie saw no fear in your gaze- just determination.  And arousal.  

“I want you to take me,” you begged, twisting your fingers in his hair, “Right here, and right now, and if you have to do that ‘like a monster,’ then do it.  I don’t care.  I just want you.”

Another growl ripped itself from Eddie’s throat as he pushed you back to the ground, keeping your arms around him, “Do you understand what you’re getting yourself into?”

You nodded, leaning up and pressing your lips to his in a quick and surprisingly chaste kiss.  He smiled against your skin- a genuine smile, this time.  You’d convinced him.  He sighed, reaching up to gently cup your face.  He traced over your cheek as he spoke, “Use your words for me, sweet girl.”

You turned your head to press a kiss to his palm, “I know.  Do you understand that I don’t care what I’m getting myself into?”

He raised an eyebrow.  You continued, a devious smirk on your face.

“You could do whatever you want to me because I want this.  I want you.  And, hey if you don’t fuck me at this point, maybe I’ll do it myself and make you watch.”

On the last word, you parted your lips and bit Eddie’s hand.  He choked.  A blush covered his face, painting his features pink up to the tips of his ears.  You smiled, satisfaction with your work sinking in as you leaned up to press a kiss to Eddie’s cheek.  His skin was warm, far warmer than the palm he had on your face just moments before.

Eddie shook his head, snapping out of his flustered state.  His eyes darkened as want crept back into his gaze.  He took your arms from around his neck, pressing a kiss to your hands before he pressed them into the ground above your head.  You were pinned.    

“Even now, you’re such a fuckin’ brat,”  Eddie purred, “Y’know, it might be a little tough for you to get yourself off seeing as you’re, y’know, at my mercy, but I’d like to see you try.  I can’t complain about a show like that.”

You gave a defiant wiggle, stretching your hands as much as you could with your wrists still pinned and bound, “I know.  That’s why I-”

A moan swallowed your words as he pressed a kiss to the column of your throat.  The sound heightened in pitch, becoming a cry as his teeth bit into your soft flesh.  Eddie smiled against your neck as he released his hold on your wrists.  His hands moved down your body, his actions slow, fingers weighed down by intent.  His touch lingered by your breasts for a second, giving your tits a harsh squeeze before he reached further.  A sharp gasp left you as you felt his cold digits press against the bare skin beneath the hem of your shirt.   

His grip tightened on the fabric, claws piercing through it before he tore it from you entirely, leaving your upper body exposed to the chill of the barn.  Goosebumps rose on your skin.  Beneath your bra, your nipples pebbled from both the cold and your arousal.  Eddie made short work of that garment, too, not bothering with the clasp.  In less than a second, your bra was in pieces on the floor beside your poor, poor shirt.  

Eddie paused, taking in the sight of your chest.  His hands slipped up and over your waist, stopping just beneath your breasts, “Holy shit,” his voice was rough, gravely- and it had you arching up into his hold, “You’re so fucking beautiful.  So fucking perfect.”

He leaned in, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, nipping at your flesh ever so slightly.  His fangs threatened to pierce your skin, and you knew you wouldn’t mind if they did.  You meant what you said.  Eddie could have his way with you however he liked.  He could cut you, bleed you, break you, and you would let him.  You would lie there for him and just let him take everything he wanted.  (Of course, you knew he wouldn’t.  He loved you far too much to ever cause you real harm.)

You let out a whine, running your hands into Eddie’s hair.  It was a little difficult- your wrists were still bound- but you did your best.  He moaned, lips still against your skin, and you found yourself writhing at the sensation.  Your body begged for more, for him to do more than touch and bite- you wanted to be fucked.

“Eddie, please- please,” the attempt was sweet, but your pleas went ignored.  Eddie pulled his mouth away from your nipple, moving just slightly to mark up the rest of your chest.  You tilted your head back, panting as his hands descended to the hem of your shorts, squeezing and scratching your sides as he went.

“Eds, please-”

“That’s it, good girl,” Eddie purred, teeth still against your chest, “Beg for me.”

You whined, bucking your hips up, trying to get some friction.  Eddie laughed a little as you tried desperately to squeeze your thighs together.  The leg he kept between yours prevented it, and you groaned, tugging on his hair in retaliation.

Eddie moaned, leaning back until you could see his eyes shut in pleasure, “So pretty.  And such a fucking brat-”

He sunk his fangs deep into your chest.  You cried out, digging your nails into his scalp.  You keened weakly as he drank from you.  He didn’t take much- he was already enduring what could be considered a blood overdose- but he did take enough to shut you up, to make you hurt.

When he pulled away, you were a mewling mess beneath him.  Your whines only got louder when he dragged his tongue over the bite wound.  A sharp grin exposed his fangs, now stained with your blood.  He leaned in, kissing you deeply, sliding his tongue passed your lips.  You could taste the copper tang of your life in his mouth.  

He pulled away, breathless, and in seconds he was back on your body, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your arm, biting at your wrist and drawing blood before he moved back to your chest.  He pulled your other nipple between his teeth, nipping and biting, making you whine.  You moved your body against the thigh he kept between your legs, grinding on it.  You were desperate and Eddie knew it.

He kissed down your stomach, biting at your hip as his grip tightened on the fabric of your shorts.  You yelped at the sting of his teeth, the sharp piercing of his fangs in your flesh.  Eddie’s tongue laved over your hip, lapping up the blood that dripped down your side.  He tore your shorts to pieces before the blood could stain them, ripping your panties off with them.

A loud gasp escaped you, and you let out a whine as the cold barn air met with your dripping cunt.  Eddie’s smile was almost shark-like.  Lots of teeth.

“So pretty,” Eddie whispered, “And so wet for me, baby.”

He pressed a kiss to the new bite mark hip before he continued, “Y’know, watching you fuck yourself for me- I’d only last so long before I just took you for myself.”

Two fingers moved up your slit, gathering your arousal before meeting with your clit.  His skin was rough, callused from fighting and from his guitar.  His touch was electric, sending shockwaves through your spine.  You couldn’t hold back your moan, nor could you control your hips as they bucked up into his hand.

“S-so,” you tried to speak as his fingers moved in tight circles over your sensitive nub, “You’d still fuck me, then?”

“I’d clean your fingers off first, but yes.”

“Oh, good.  So either way, I get what I want.”

He paused his ministrations and pulled his fingers away entirely, digging them into your sides.  You made a noise of protest, but Eddie remained still.  For a second, he just stared at you, half squinting.  In the time it took to blink, his teeth were on your chest again.  He didn’t break the skin, but he got so dangerously close to it that you couldn’t help but shiver as want dripped down your thighs.

Eddie’s grip tightened on you, and you wondered what the bruises his ring-clad fingers left on your hips would look like later on.  An especially sharp bite pulled you back to the present.  You mewled, whining as Eddie nipped at the soft skin over your heart.  You could almost feel your blood pumping faster through your veins, sending that same fire through each one of your nerves.

Slowly, though, Eddie’s fangs distanced themselves from you.  It was just his lips on your skin.  The pressure was still bruising to be sure, but something had changed.

“I’ll give you whatever you want.  Whatever,” you could feel Eddie speaking against you, his breath warm on your chest, “Whatever you want, just stay with me.”

A few short moments ago, he’d been begging you to run away from him.  Now, he wanted you to stay.  A quick kiss to your bloodied temple told you why.

‘I will,” you pulled his forehead to yours, locking eyes with him, “I promise I will.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, wrapping your arms around his neck as your nails gently scratched at his scalp.  He melted into your touch before leaning in, pressing his soft lips against yours.  The kiss was so gentle, so different from the harsh bites and scratches he’d delivered so far.  Your body overflowed with want, a broken fountain pouring desire onto the floor.

“You,” you muttered against him, “Are everything I want.”

He looked down at you for a second, eyes wide and wanting.  You leaned up, capturing his lips with yours.  One of his hands came up, cupping your face gently, holding you like you were something precious.  Your lips fit against his perfectly.  The fire inside you was threatening to take down the goddamn barn.  

You paused.  Wrapping a strand of Eddie’s hair around your fingers, you gave a slight tug.  You met his gaze with a small smile, removing your arms from around his neck and bringing them in front of you.

“Also, I would like to be untied, please.”

He laughed and did as you asked, freeing you with a swipe of his claw.  Instantly, your hands were on his face, your fingers running over his cheekbones, sweeping under his eyes.  With your new freedom, you were able to run your hands up and through his hair properly.  Above you, Eddie seemed to purr.

Eddie lowered himself, kissing and biting down your breasts and stomach, leaving bruises as he went.  His movements were the same as before, but there was a new passion to them.  You brushed your fingers over his shoulders, scratching at him slightly.  He gripped onto the soft skin of your inner thighs, threatening to tear into it.  You arched your hips up towards him.  He grabbed them, grip tight and claws digging in.  You cried out quietly as he pushed them back to the ground.  Your back stung slightly, but the pain was quickly put out of your mind.

“Stay put for me, will you, sweetheart?”

You barely had a moment to register his words.  His lips met with your heat, and you cried out at the sensation.  His tongue moved up and down, teasing your entrance before his lips closed around your clit.  You couldn't keep your thighs from closing around his head when you felt the harsh edges of his teeth.  He didn’t seem to mind.  More than that, he moaned against you.  You had to fight to keep still beneath him.

Eddie kissed and bit you, eating you out like a man starved, like an animal that hadn’t been fed in an eternity or longer.  The pleasure he brought you was almost violent in nature.  You let out a string of incomprehensible words, moaning and whimpering as he drank your arousal.  

“You taste so good, baby,” he pressed his lips to your clit, “So sweet.  You’re perfect.”

One of his hands slid back up your body, leaving goosebumps behind.  He stopped between your breasts, strong fingers pressed against your sternum ever so slightly, holding you still.  Over the next few moments, as his teeth and tongue teased you relentlessly, dragging you to the edge at a rapid pace, your hand slipped into his.  His claws bit into your skin.  Your nails bit into his.

“Fuck- fuck, Eddie-”

“Gettin’ close, sweetheart?  Gonna cum for me?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your words fell to nothing as you cried out his name, shaking as you came for him.  Your voice echoed off the walls, and Eddie didn’t think he’d ever heard a sweeter sound.  He could feel your heart racing under his hand, your pulse racing through your wrist.  The way your fingers squeezed around his- like you wanted him, like you needed him- made him feel weak.  

It took you a minute to come back to earth.  You could barely hear Eddie shrugging off his shirt and jacket over the sound of your own panting.  The metallic clink of his belt buckle meeting the floor as he removed it got your attention.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him.  Your eyes traced up his slender waist, over scarred and tattooed skin.  His wings cast sharp shadows over his body.  He freed his cock from his pants, and you tried to keep yourself from drooling as it sprang up against his stomach.

Eddie had always been gifted.  He had always been big, thick- the sight of him was always enough to make your mouth water.  Even before the Upside Down had so kindly bestowed him with new shit, you thought he was perfect.  But after?  

You weren’t sure why Vecna had decided to give your boyfriend’s cock ridges and a few extra inches, but you weren’t about to look a gift dick in the mouth.  You would never get used to the sight- it would always make you shiver with want, make you drip with need.  Perhaps a rational person would be intimidated by the sheer size of him, by the ridges that now covered his length, but you?  Never.  You didn’t care about anything.  You didn’t fear anything.  You just wanted him.

Your eyes caught his- honey shining in the twilight, warm, wanting, and slightly hesitant.  His pupils were blown out, dark voids drinking in the sight of you.  He wanted to give you a moment to catch your breath.  He wanted to take a second to kiss you and to hold you close.  Eddie wanted to be gentle, but something deep inside him- specifically all the blood he’d drained from you and your attackers- demanded that he get his cock inside you as fast as he fucking could.  

“Baby, are you- are you sure you want this?  I’m not- I’m not gonna be nice.”

“I don’t care, I don’t-” you sat up, grabbing Eddie’s shoulders and pulling him down on top of you, “I want you, Eds.  I don’t care about anything else.”

“Okay.  Okay, just- promise me you’ll stop me.  If I hurt you, or if it’s too much, promise you’ll stop me.”

“I will,” you could barely hear yourself over the pounding of your heart, “Whatever you need, I promise.”

He took a deep breath before taking his cock in his hand, stroking it twice.  He lined himself up with your entrance, pressing against you ever so slightly.  He kissed up your jaw, pressing his lips against your ear before he whispered, “I love you.  And I’m sorry.”

In one swift movement, he was inside you, buried to the hilt.  You were wet and ready for him, but the sudden stretch- the sudden ache of his length pressing against your walls was still a lot for your already sore body to take.  Tears sprang to your eyes.  A scream tore itself from your throat before you could block it, mingling in the air with the sound of Eddie’s moans.

You could see the guilt in his eyes, but he didn’t slow his pace.  His thrusts were fast and deep, almost violent in their intensity.  The drag of his cock inside your needy cunt- the feeling of his veins and ridges against your walls- had your eyes rolling back, had you moaning like some mindless slut.  

Eddie wasn’t doing much better.  He quickly lost himself in the feeling of your body writhing under his, squeezing his dick every time moved.  He brushed against a spot inside you that made you see stars.  Your muscles clenched as his cock brushed it over and over again.  Pain and pleasure shot through you, sparking through your veins and making you dig your nails into his back.  He barely felt it.

Eddie took your hips into his hands, his grip bruising, his claws digging in.  You could feel your blood pooling beneath his claws, staining his nails red.  His lips were against your chest again, his teeth biting and scratching your skin.  You barely noticed.  You were too focused on him, on his cock forcing its way deeper and deeper inside, finding places that only he could reach.  

“Still with me, sweetheart?” His voice was raspy, rough around the edges as he tried to catch breath that he didn’t technically need.

“Still with you,” your voice was just as breathless as his, “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t.  The sound of his hips slamming into yours cut through the silence of the night.  Your fingers moved over Eddie’s back, scratching white lines into his skin.  Your hands danced over the bones and flesh of his wings, darting over every sensitive spot.  You knew his body well, and in seconds he was melting into you.  Maybe it was a dirty move- you pulling out all of the stops on him- but you were sure he didn’t mind if his moans were anything to go by.  His cock twitched inside your walls, and you moaned at the sensation.  You were weak and wanting, and he was much the same.

“That’s it, baby,” he purred, “That’s my girl.  So fucking good for me, so tight.”

His words slurred together, morphing into a low growl as he fucked into you.  The smell of sex filled the barn, overtaking the stench of blood and decay.  The barn itself seemed to fade further and further from view with every stroke, leaving only Eddie behind.  For the moment, it was just the two of you.  There were no threats to your life, no disgusted old ladies in grocery stores, and no jocks that wanted you dead.  It was just you and the boy you loved.

One of his hands left your hip, moving back downwards to press his fingers against your clit.  You could feel him trying to set a pace while also trying to keep his claws from scratching your delicate skin.  As his fingers traced those familiar tight circles, you spiralled under him, walls clenching down around him as you drowned in the feeling of his skin on yours.

You could faintly hear him whispering filthy things in your ear- descriptions of all the depraved things he would do to you spoken over the deafening roar of your beating heart and the sound of skin on skin.  Between words, his lips pressed kisses to every part of you that he could reach.  Tears rolled down your cheeks as you neared overstimulation.  Eddie kissed them away.

Mindlessly, one of your hands slipped away from his wings and over his side.  Your fingers brushed something wet, a gouge in Eddie’s skin.  The bullet wound.  Immediately he flinched, clenching his jaw tightly to keep from crying out.  You pulled back with near-inhuman speed, but the damage had been done.  In your panic, you didn’t notice Eddie’s pained gasp turning into a laugh.  You didn’t feel his cock pulsing inside you.  As apologies spilled from your mouth, he took your now-bloodied hand in his free one.

“Damn,” he spoke over you, his voice rough and low, “I guess I deserved that, huh?”

You stared up at him, stunned into silence.  Your face burned under his gaze.  Even if you knew how to respond to that, you didn’t get the chance.  Eddie brought your fingers to and past his lips, stealing your breath from your lungs in the process.  His tongue moved around your fingers with a certain grace as he licked the cranberry colour of his blood off of your skin.  The sight of it- of his lips around your fingers, drawing you in- was enough to take you to the edge.  A little added pressure on your clit was enough to send you over, into a white-hot abyss.

You cried out as your walls clenched down around him.  Tears stained your cheeks as your orgasm overtook you.  Eddie pulled back, groaning slightly.  Transparent strings connected his lips to your now damp fingers.  A devilish grin overtook his features, “You liked that, huh?  You came hard for me, sweet thing.”

You let out an embarrassingly loud whine in agreement, your body shaking as it came down from its high.  Eddie let out a groan that matched your volume as he moved his hips against yours at a harsh and unforgiving pace.  

He panted, “I’m- I’m gonna need you to use your words, baby.  Need you to- fuck- need you to tell me.  You can do that for me, right?”

You let out another whimper before you let out a broken confession, “I- I liked that,” he leaned in to kiss you, but you cut him off again, “But you didn’t deserve it.  You don’t deserve to be hurt- unless y’know, it’s kinky.”

Eddie froze for a second.  Your words had caught him off guard.  As he stilled inside you, his smile changed.  Everything about him became less devilish and more genuine.  He broke eye contact.  You could just see a pink flush spread over the pale skin of his neck and cheeks as he buried his face in your shoulder.  When he spoke again, his words were muffled by your flesh against his mouth.

“You’re too good to me.”

His thrusts picked back up again, the same as they were before.  He slowly placed your hand back where he found it, “Far too good.”

A sharp sting spread through your body as his teeth pierced your flesh.  A fresh round of tears pooled in your eyes at the new ache.  Blood dripped down your shoulder and over your chest, painting red lines down your tits.  Ruby-red droplets jumped slightly with each snap of his hips.  You felt him twitch at the sight of it.  His grip tightened, and he made a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr.

“You’re- fuck,” his voice edged on wicked, desperation seeping in as he reached up to wipe your tears away, “You’re mine.  I’m gonna make sure everyone knows who you belong to.  Gonna make sure they know- make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

“Please, Eds.  I want you- I want you to claim me.  Want you to show them that I’m just your slut-”

Eddie felt a twinge in his chest, guilt taking arousal’s usual place.  Degradation was usually fun to some degree, but he knew what people in this town called you.  He knew what they thought you were and he knew the danger it put you in; and with the events that had led you here, his fear was raw.  Worry burned through his head, turning brain cells into exposed wires.  His lips quickly pressed his lips to yours bringing your pleas to a brief halt.   When he pulled away, he whispered, “You know you’re more than that, right?”

“I know,” you leaned up to kiss him, recognizing the emotion in his eyes, “A thing can be two things.  I’m a person, and I’m yours, body and soul.  Just yours.”

He shut his eyes, chasing down your lips and kissing you breathless.  It was sweet, not gentle, but kind- and you wanted to change that.  You wrapped your teeth over his lower lip and bit down.  You didn’t draw blood.  You weren’t sure that you could, but you sure as hell tried.  Eddie growled, but before he could say anything, you were whispering into him again.

“You’re mine, too.  Remember that.”

The smile that crossed his face was blinding.  Desire consumed him again as his hips moved against yours.  His thrusts came faster, deeper, and impossibly harder.  His eyes clouded over with lust, and you were pretty sure that if you had a mirror, you would see the same thing reflected in your own face.  The want.  The need.  Your body melted beneath Eddie’s as he fucked into you the way he said he would- like a fucking animal.

Your body craved his- you wanted him to keep his word, to take you, claim you, protect you.  You wondered, briefly, what it said about you- that you wanted your partner to commit acts of violence in your name.  You brushed those thoughts away as a familiar tension began to build in your core.

As your edge grew nearer, Eddie could feel his monstrous instincts overtake him.  He knew that his grip on your body was just a bit too firm, that he was leaving dark bruises and deep bite marks all over you.  If he wasn’t careful, he would hurt you, but careful seemed to be the last thing you wanted.  You kept begging him for more, arching your body into his, digging your nails into him.  Soft, depraved pleas escaped your lips, morphing into cries as you came undone beneath him.

Eddie wasn’t sure what happened next.  He blinked, eyes falling shut, and when he opened them, he was using your body with a level of violence he had always tried to keep you from.  

A broken scream ripped its way out of your throat as the head of Eddie’s cock rammed against your cervix with bruising force.  A blinding agony spread through you, crawling through your nerves and making you gasp for air.  You could barely feel Eddie’s claws digging into your sides, barely feel it as he thrust back into you.  Your thighs slammed shut around his hips.  A whimper escaped your lips as your nails scratched down his back, desperately searching for purchase.  

Eddie paused for a split second, looking down at you with wide, panicked eyes.  He didn’t stop.  He couldn’t stop.  He hated himself for it.  You took a deep breath as he kept moving, as he kept thrusting deep within your walls.  You tried to relax, to let the pain fade.  You failed.  You felt the head of his cock hit your cervix a second time, and you bit down on your lip, drawing blood.  Tears streamed down your cheeks as you held back a scream- you couldn’t hold back your pleas for mercy.

“Eddie-” your voice broke, “Eddie, stop.  Please, please, stop- I can’t-”

All pleasure had left your voice, leaving only pain and fear behind.  Again, he didn’t stop.  He wanted to stop- he desperately wanted to stop.  He needed to stop, and he knew that.  He was hurting you, and that killed him, but some shameful part of his blood-drunk mind was excited by your pain.  It wanted to keep going, even if he didn’t.

In a panic-fueled attempt to end your agony, your hands pressed against Eddie’s shoulders, pushing him back.  It was enough to snap him out of it and make him stop- and it made him notice the blood dripping over your lip and down your chin.

The first word to pass his lips was, “No.”

There was a deep, disbelieving horror in his voice, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, what he had done to you.  He reached for you, slowly and cautiously, giving you plenty of time to stop him.  When you didn’t, he wiped the blood off your face with his thumb, cradling your jaw with the rest of his fingers.  

“Shit- shit, shit, shit,” his other hand came up to hover near your face.  Tears filled his eyes.  If you didn’t see it, you would’ve heard it in his voice.  Your boy sounded so broken,  “I’m sorry, baby, fuck, I’m sorry.  I wasn’t careful enough.  I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“I know, baby.  I know.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, “You know.”

Eddie wrapped his hands around yours and pinned your arms to the concrete above your head.   He kept your fingers intertwined.  As much as he hated himself for it, he didn’t want to let go.  A whimper escaped you, and you watched Eddie’s face as he shut his eyes and hissed.  For a moment, you thought he was hurt.

“Eddie-”

“You know that the man you love is a monster.  You know that every time I touch you, I risk hurting you.  You know I could kill you, the same way I killed those men tonight.  The same way they tried to kill you, I could just-”

His hands squeezed yours.  He wouldn’t look you in the eye.  He looked anywhere else, just not into your eyes.

“Eddie,” your voice was softer, reassuring.

“Sweetheart, when I fuck you, you are being violated by a monster.  If I claim you, it means that you’re owned by a monster.  If we-if I got you pregnant, if you had my kids… they’d be like me. A monster just like their dad.”

He shifted slightly, preparing to pull away from you as he began to sink into that familiar pit of self-loathing. Eddie had barely moved an inch when you latched onto him further, clinging to him, wrapping your legs around his hips to make him stay.  

“You think this is a violation?  Eddie, I asked for this.  Do you not want-?”

“Oh god.  Baby, I want this.  I want you, more than I should, but I hurt you.  I didn’t stop when you needed me to, and that- it terrifies me.  This was a mistake, I never should’ve-”

“I don’t think this was a mistake.  Any of it,” you sat up a bit, just enough to press your forehead against his, “You stopped.  I’m okay.  And, uh… I kind of liked what you were saying.  But-”

“But?”

“You really think our kids would be monsters?” you asked, “With you as their father?  No way.  Menaces, maybe, but not monsters.”

He said nothing, but a small smile crossed his face.  He didn’t pull any further away.  He just stared at you with those sweet doe eyes of his, so warm, so enamoured with you, and still so full of guilt.   

It wasn’t a surprise that his mind had gone to such a place- he had killed a bunch of people moments before, fucked you on top of their bodies, and now, he had hurt you.  It was an accident, you both knew that, but the guilt would eat him alive if he let it.  You weren’t willing to let that happen.  You hadn’t let those dark thoughts get to him in the past, and you sure as shit weren’t going to start now.

“Eddie.  Everything you did tonight, you did to save me.  Everything you do is to protect the people you love and care about.  Tonight, two years ago, and even further back. You love with everything you have.  You- are so brave, and so deeply kind, even if you pretend not to be, and if that makes you a monster, then I hope our children are monsters, too.  And I hope they have your eyes.”

He remained still for a moment.  His expression betrayed both his shock at your statement and his want.  In the next second, his lips were on yours.  He let go of your wrists, bringing his hands back to your face.  

��I love you,” he whispered into the kiss, “I love you, I love you.”

You leaned up and into him, kissing him back as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, “I love you too.  So much.  And I want you to remember, I also killed a man tonight.  If you’re a monster, then…”

He let out a quiet laugh, lips moving down your neck, feathering kisses over your skin all the way to your collarbone, “We’re monsters together, then.”

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, “Exactly,” you purred.  You paused for a second, becoming violently aware of the weight of his cock inside of you.  You taped your fingers against his spine before you thrust your hips down against his, “You can, uh… you can start again now.  I think I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

You leaned closer, whispering against his lips, “I am.”

He pressed his lips to yours, tongue slipping between your lips as he began to thrust into you again.  His pace was quick, but not painful, and not quite so unforgiving.  Your fingers reached up to wrap around the messy strands of his hair, tugging gently.  He moaned into the kiss, sounding hungry and desperate once again.

As you drew nearer to your edge, your thoughts began to race.  His words spilled through your mind, drowning your psyche with every sentiment he’d put forward.  He loves you deeply.  He’s terrified of hurting you.  He’s desperate to keep you safe.  You mean something to him.  He’s thought about having kids with you, and you wanted him to think about that- fuck.

Your walls tightened around him.  His cock twitched inside of you as he neared his own edge.  

You whimpered out Eddie’s name, tugging on his hair until he pulled away from you.  His brows furrowed in concern as he took in the sight of you, but you didn’t look like you were in pain.  Your eyes were wide, filled with lust, and your chest heaved with every breath you took.  You were covered in blood and sweat, and you were the most beautiful thing Eddie had ever seen.  He felt your hands move to his face, and his gaze focused on your lips as you spoke.

“Eddie,” your voice was soft, “I need you to cum inside me.”

You watched as his eyes widened, as his lips parted in shock and a faint blush covered his cheeks.  You were kind of proud that even in a moment this intimate, you could still get him to flush like that.

“You- you want me to-?”

You nodded, cutting him off and pulling him closer, “I want you to fill me up.  Breed me, please.”

He shivered, a current of electricity running through him at your words.  His body and his instincts screamed at him to do exactly as you’d said.  

“You,” he whispered, “You’re perfect.”

His mouth slipped downwards, lips pressing against the space between your throat and your shoulder.  His teeth sunk into your shoulder.  Pain spread through your skin, white-hot as your blood dripped over your chest.  Your muscles spasmed around him as the coil snapped.  Your grip tightened on his hair.  You could faintly hear him cry out in your own haze.  His claws dug into you as he fell over that all-consuming edge.

Eddie bit down harder on your throat as he came, drinking just enough from you to make you see stars.  His cock throbbed against your walls as his seed spread inside you, thick, and hot, and perfect.  You clung to him, your breath stuttering as your muscles clenched, milking him for more.  

As he finished, the monstrous need to fuck and breed you faded away to nothing.  He was left with the more human parts of him after that- the parts of him that knew what aftercare was and that you would need it, the parts of him that knew he had to get you somewhere safe, somewhere away from the bodies of your attackers.  Your body was limp beneath Eddie’s.  Your eyes were closed, and your lips slightly parted.  You were fucked out, completely cock drunk, and utterly perfect.

Eddie brushed your hair off your face.  You could hear him repeating your name softly as you came back to earth.  When you opened your eyes, he was hovering above you, looking at you with more affection than you could put into words.

“Hi,” he said, voice low and slightly shaky.

“Hi,” you let one of your hands move up to his face, brushing your fingers over his cheek.

“You okay, pretty girl?”

“‘M more than okay.”

He smiled, taking your hand from his cheek and pressing his lips to it, “Thank god, I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t.”

“You’d probably lose your mind.”

“Oh, I’d definitely lose my mind.”

You finally caught your breath as he kissed each of your knuckles and your wrist before he brushed his lips down your arm and to your shoulder.  He let his cheek rest against your chest, listening to your heartbeat as it finally slowed down to something resembling normal.

Once it had, he lifted his head back up to look you in the eye, “We should probably get out of here, though.  Get you home.”

“God, I would like that so much.”

He pulled himself up until he was kneeling, fixing his pants and passing his shirt to you.  You pulled it over your head, watching as he got to his feet.  He held out his hands to you and you took them, letting him help you to stand.  You shook slightly, weak in the knees from both the attack and from everything Eddie had done to you.  You buried your face in his chest as his cum dripped down from your abused cunt onto your thigh.

“Ah,” you hissed, “I have no pants.”

Eddie left a hand on your arm, supporting you as he stooped down to collect your torn clothes, “I guess there’s no saving these?”

You shook your head, smiling slightly as he winced.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it baby,” you leaned up and kissed his cheek, “It was more than worth it.”

His grin showed you his teeth.  He picked up his jacket off the ground and wrapped it around your shoulders.  You still had no pants, but it would be enough for now.  You pressed a kiss to his bare collarbone as thanks.  He tilted your chin up with two fingers and kissed you properly.

“Come on,” he whispered, “Let’s go home.”

You pulled away from him for a second, looking around at the abandoned barn.  It looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie.  Blood covered the floor and stained the walls.  Seven bodies laid out on the concrete, mutilated in various ways.  You felt Eddie’s fingers on your jaw, gently bringing your gaze back to him.

His eyes were wide- something in them was almost scared.  He didn’t want you to fear him- to hate him.  He didn’t want you to think that he was a monster, but the bodies in the room only led to one conclusion- and you didn’t mind it.  Monster or otherwise, Eddie was yours.  

“Yeah,” you brushed your lips against his, “Let’s go home.”

A grin crossed his face, and the fear faded from his eyes as he bent down and scooped you up, pulling you into his arms.  Maybe two years ago, when he was still human, he wouldn’t have been able to carry you home, but his vampiric strength was at present, a gift.

You let your head rest against his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck as he stepped through the blood, out of the barn, and into the night.

-

You fell asleep on the way home.  You shut your eyes outside the barn, with the moon shining above you like a pearl in an inky black ocean, and opened them in the safety of the home you shared with Eddie- Hopper’s old cabin.

It had been in a bit of a state when Hopper had given it to you, but it was more than worth the hours you’d spent fixing it.  It was a safe place for Eddie to stay- secret, isolated.  It was the only place you could stay without the fear of capture and torture hanging over your heads.

At least, it had been.  But that fear had come too close, breaking down your door and ripping its way into your life.  You had been saved this time, but the experience followed you home.  You weren’t sure what would come next.

You turned your focus away from the nebulous future and towards the present.  Beneath you, your couch was soft.  The living room was warmly lit by a lamp on the end side table next to you.  You couldn’t see Eddie, but you could hear the sound of the tap running in the bathroom.  From your spot, you could see grocery bags neatly folded on your kitchen table.  With them sat a bottle of cranberry juice.  You didn’t know whether you wanted to laugh or cry at the sight of it.

You sat up and immediately, you had regrets.  Every inch of your body ached.  Your face stung from the blows you’d taken, and the space between your legs burned and throbbed.  The bite marks that marred your skin stung, and you somehow managed to hit every bruise you had in the small act of sitting up.

Despite that pain, you forced yourself to try and stand.  You failed miserably.  Your knees buckled beneath you, and before you could do anything to maintain your balance, you were back on the couch.  The door to the bathroom swung open, and Eddie burst out with a wet cloth in hand.

“Shit!  You’re up, hi!”

You couldn’t help but smile at him as he sped towards the couch.  He was still shirtless, wearing the same pants he’d worn while saving you.  His missing shirt still covered your body and your legs were still bare.  His jacket was thrown over the back of the couch beside you.

“Hi,” you reached out for him as he got to the couch.  He took your hand in his, kissing it before he placed another kiss on your lips.

“Hey, hi,” he pulled back from you, giving your hand a squeeze, “Sorry, pretty thing, I was just- I was trying to get you cleaned up.”

“Oh!  Well,” you reached for the hem of your shirt, “That should be a little easier now that I’m up, right?”

He flushed as you pulled your shirt over your head.  It didn’t seem to matter that his cock had been inside you maybe an hour earlier, he still went red at the sight of your boobs.  You smirked at him, reaching out and running a hand through his hair.

“You are far too cute, Eddie Munson.”

“And you,” he pushed you back onto the couch, throwing himself down next to you and pulling your legs over his lap, “Are far too beautiful, sweetheart.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your knee.

“So, do you uh- are you okay with this?” he raised the wet washcloth in his hand, “Or do you wanna shower, or?”

“Well, I would get up, but when I tried I fell, so,” you grimaced.

“I could help you,” he gave your leg a squeeze, “Could hold you, up if you want.”

You sat up, pressing kisses to his jaw, “I would like that.”

With a smile, he wrapped your arms around his neck and picked you back up.  The trip to the bathroom was a short one.  It took even less time for Eddie to remove his clothes and get both of you into the shower.

You kept your arms around him, leaning into his chest as warm water flowed over your back.  You could feel your muscles begin to relax, knots unravelling the longer you stood there.  Slowly, he started to move.  His touch was heartbreakingly gentle as he cleaned every bite mark and every bruise.  

In turn, you washed the sweat and blood that came with the fight off of him.  Your fingers grazed his side, and you were pleased to find that the gunshot wound he’d taken had almost healed completely.  Your hand remained there for a second, your touch feather-light and shaking slightly.  You didn’t want to hurt him.

“Hey,” you whispered, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He laughed a little, though the sound was void of joy, “Yeah?  I’m glad that you’re alive.”

Eddie pressed a kiss to your shoulder before asking you to hang onto him.  Your hands clutched onto him as he knelt before you, washing off your thighs.  You took a deep breath as his hands neared your cunt.  He looked up at you with wide eyes, a question held within them.

He quickly put it into words, “You down for round two?”

You grinned as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, “Yes, please.”

His mouth was on you in an instant.  He hooked your knees over his shoulders, pressing you up against the shower wall, keeping you steady with his hands.  You tilted your head back at the feeling of his tongue lapping at your arousal.  You found yourself biting down on your bottom lip as his lips wrapped around your clit.  Your hands moved over your chest, pinching lightly at your nipples.  In minutes, you were coming undone against him.  Both of you were breathless as he pulled himself away from you.

When he kissed you, you could taste yourself on his lips.  You wondered if he could taste himself in you.  He cradled your face in his hands

“How’re you feeling?”

“Stupid good,” you murmured, brushing strands of Eddie’s dripping hair out of his eyes.

“That’s what I wanna hear,” he pulled you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist as he kissed you a thousand more times.  You let out a content hum, smiling into him as you lost yourself in him.

As the two of you climbed out of the shower, you caught sight of your body in the mirror.  You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the reflection of your bruised and battered body.  Bitemarks littered your skin.  Splotches of red and purple covered your skin. 

You felt heat build within you at the sight of everything Eddie had done- and you felt your stomach twist at the sight of the things he hadn’t.  The marks he hadn’t left would leave scars on your mind.  You hoped they wouldn’t stain your body longer than they had to.

Eddie noticed your gaze, your eyes riveted to the mirror.  He stood from where he’d been drying off your legs and moved to stand behind you.  He took your arms in his hands, running them down until your fingers intertwined with his over your stomach.  He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, just under the bloodied spot where Kurt’s gun had struck you so much earlier.  

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, gently rocking you from side to side.

“Hey, don’t apologize.  You aren’t the one who kidnapped me at gunpoint and threatened to break my bones by way of gun,” you shook your head at the ridiculous nature of your captors’ plans, but Eddie had a different reaction.

He buried his face in your shoulder, letting out a whine, “Jesus Christ.”

His hands started to shake against your skin.  His breath sped up as his arms tightened around you.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.  That never should’ve happened, they never should’ve gotten to you.”

“Hey,” you broke eye contact with your reflection in the mirror and turned around in Eddie’s hold, “There was nothing you could have done.  If you had been with me, they would have tried to hurt you.  Maybe they would’ve succeeded.  And we needed groceries, so-”

“Then I should’ve sent Steve with you.  Or Nancy, just someone-”

“I had Max.  She’s arguably scarier than Steve and- oh shit, Max,” you pushed away from Eddie, stumbling as you took a step back, “Max, is she okay!?  Did someone get her?”

Eddie kept your forearms in his hands, helping to keep you steady, “Deep breaths, sweetheart, deep breaths.  Max is alright.  As soon as she called me I had Steve go and get her, ironically enough.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” you let out a tired breath as you collapsed against Eddie’s chest, “I guess we have them to thank for the grocery bags on the table?”

Eddie pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “That we do.”

“God, I’m gonna have to call them.  To say thank you.  And sorry, my God,” you rubbed at your eyes with one hand, “I can’t believe I put Max through that, holy shit.”

“Hey, hey, you didn’t put Max through anything.  You got her out of there.  That was the best thing you could do, you kept her safe.  Besides,” he moved back to look you in the eye, “Red’s a tough kid.  She’s dealt with worse than this.”

“I know,” your voice was half a groan, “I still feel bad, though.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie gently grabbed a hold of you, turning you around to face yourself in the mirror.  His hands slipped back into yours, and he brought them back to the expanse of your stomach, “You’ve had, what some would call, a long day, sweetheart.”

You leaned into him, letting out a soft whine when he pressed his lips to your shoulder.  You squeezed his hands, “Yeah, you could say that.”

Eddie squeezed back, “Let’s get you to bed, huh?”

“Fuck.  Yes, please.”

He picked you up again, pulling you into his arms and letting your head rest against his chest.  You felt a bit ridiculous having him carry you around your small home, but it wasn’t like you had much of a choice.  Your legs were tired, too weak to carry you.  Fortunately, Eddie was more than strong enough.

He laid you on the bed gently, planting a kiss over your new bitemarks before he crawled into bed with you.  He started at your side, but within minutes, he was on top of you, his head resting between your breasts.  He took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers before kissing them gently.

The two of you lay in silence for a few moments.  You ran a hand through his still-damp hair, listening to the sound of your breathing and his.  For perhaps the first time today, you were both breathing evenly, completely calm.  

On top of you, Eddie was listening to the sound of your heartbeat, sure and steady beneath him.  He had spent so much of the day afraid that he would never hear that sound again.  He had been terrified that he was going to lose you- that the town that had taken so much from him would take you, too.

But it hadn’t.  It had tried, the jocks had tried, but he had stopped them.  You were safe now.  Safe, and protected, and Eddie seriously didn’t plan on letting you out of his sight for a few days.

“Hey,” you whispered, “How did you- how did you know where I was?  Max saw me get kidnapped, but she didn’t know where they took me after.”

His fingers brushed over your temple, “I could smell your blood.  Almost killed me when I noticed it.  The stronger it got… the more I wanted to end them.”

You leaned into his touch, placing your hand over his.

“I wouldn’t take back what I did,” he continued, “I don’t regret it.  I could never regret it.  But I’m- I’m afraid that all I am is a weapon.  That all I’ll ever be is a weapon.  The things Vecna made me do…” he faded off into silence, pulling away and rubbing his hands over his eyes.

You sat up with him, reaching out to trace his strong, scarred arms.  You could do nothing but watch as a war raged inside the man you loved.  Guilt slipped beneath your skin, thrumming beneath muscle and bone.  Eddie had protected you- he killed for you without remorse, and you were excited by that violence.  You wondered again what that said about you.

Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead to Eddie’s.  He relaxed against you, calmed by your touch.

“Hey, you know you’re more than that, right?”  You echoed his words from earlier, “You’re not a weapon, you’re not his puppet, you’re-”

“I’m your man,” he said, a small grin crossing his face, “Your protector.  Your slut.”

You giggled, shocked and pleased, and Eddie looked so proud to be the cause of the smile on your face.  When his laughter subsided, you crawled into his hold, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands moved to your waist.  You sat there for a moment, taking in his lack of a heartbeat as he listened to the steady rhythm of yours.

“You know this goes both ways, right?” You whispered, running your fingers over the spot where his wings met his back, “You protect me, I protect you?  And we protect… whatever comes along.  I might not have the claws or the fangs, but I’ve been told I can be a bit of a bitch when I want to be, so there’s that.”

Eddie pulled you closer to him, pinning your chest to his and holding you there as he laid back on the mattress.  One of his hands brushed through your hair while the other traced intricate patterns over your back.  You shut your eyes and let yourself bury your face in the space between his neck and his shoulder.

“I know,” he tilted his face to press a kiss to your head, “I couldn’t have asked for a better bodyguard.”

You smiled against his throat, “Neither could I.”

You hummed contentedly as he pulled a blanket over your bodies.  The mindless motions of his calloused hands on your back pulled the tension from your muscles, making you relax.  Your eyelids grew heavy as you breathed him in- the faint scents of blood and cigarette smoke overtaken by the smell of your body wash.  You were so calm, unafraid, and bizarrely happy for a woman who had spent most of her day trying not to die at the hands of her kidnappers.  

Maybe having sex on the corpses of your enemies was just a natural mood booster.  Maybe it was the man you were having sex with.

“You make me feel safe,” you murmured, words slurred with sleep, “Always have.”

“Good,” his voice was quiet, but he sounded like he was wide awake.  You focused on the feeling of his hand running through your hair, of his skin, ice cold beneath your lips.

“Keep doing it?”

“I always will, sweetheart.  I won’t let anything hurt you.  I won’t lose you.”

“Promise?”

He nodded, and you smiled against his neck, “Good.  Protect me.”

Without waiting for a response, you pulled his skin between your teeth and bit down; hard enough to bruise, but not hard enough to draw the sweet cranberry-coloured wine that ran through his veins.  His soft moan was music to your ears.  With your lips on his throat, and his hands in your hair, you fell into a dreamless sleep.  Eddie stayed awake through the night, keeping watch over you until the sun began to rise. 

[bettsfic]

Betts. how do I stop feeling jealous of everyone and everything and just focus on myself? I'm tired of being comprised of nothing but envy.

story time:

so i was recently at Millay, which is one of the top artist residencies in the country. they have an acceptance rate of something like 3%. when i was shown my room, there was a packet of all the residents' artist bios. i sat down and read through all of them. most of them were like half a page in length, single-spaced, listing out accomplishments i could never dream of. one artist had won a guggenheim. one author had published 12 books. another author published her first book at 19 years old. these were people who were extremely well accomplished and respected in their fields.

and we all became very good friends!

and then there was me. my bio was 3 sentences listing out a couple short publications and awards and other residencies i'd done. and my honest to god first thought was, "wow, the jurors must have really liked my writing to have accepted me among all these great artists."

and my second thought was, "that's the healthiest thing i have ever thought."

i had no jealousy of their accomplishments. even though my career hadn't even begun compared to theirs, i didn't attend dinner that night with any impostor syndrome. and that confirmed for me that i had grown out of whatever place i used to be in as a person, where i was basically a raw wound wrapped in barbed wire. everything hurt me and i hurt everything in return.

jealous feelings come from an intense need of external approval, but as i've mentioned in other asks, approval and validation is a well that gets filled over time. at our introductory dinner that night, i didn't talk about my work in the hope of convincing everyone i deserved to be there, which was what i would've done a few years before. instead we all ended up talking about a TV show. the most highbrow place i've ever been in my life, and we're getting wine drunk and discussing at length a cheesy discovery channel reality series. the guggenheim winner: loves box turtles. the guy who's published 12 books: his favorite movie is Spirited Away. the girl who published a book at 19: reads One Direction fanfic. the well-lauded poet: old school tumblrina.

actually, 4 out of 7 of us read fanfic and we had some great conversations about it. sometime i'll tell you about introducing the co-director of the residency to AO3.

when you think of the most accomplished and successful writer you've ever read, remember that they are, at the very core of their being, a nerd. and if you were to eat dinner with them, you would, with enough polite inquisitiveness, be able to unlock the goofy side of them that binges Property Brothers.

so that was the big change for me, i think. i started asking a lot of questions. i stopped talking and i started listening. it seems counterintuitive that admitting to not knowing stuff shows confidence, but it does. pretending you know stuff is what looks insecure. i think for me, i put so much of myself in my work, i wanted my work to be lauded so i could feel accomplished, and feeling accomplishment would let me believe i deserved to exist. but over time, i've reframed that mentality. my work is a thing that exists beyond me and is private to those who read it. it comes from me, but it is not me. what i am is just the person i am, and my life is a series of moments i choose for myself, and i am allowed to exist.

even sending this ask shows that you've begun filling your well. it takes someone who's already come a long way to realize jealousy isn't the status quo and is a feeling to be overcome. and you can overcome it. you can reach a place where you have enough success that other people's success has nothing to do with you, and you're free to just be happy for them. and when you read work that's better than yours you feel joy at learning something new.

so put your work into the world and let it be rejected. you'll rack up a couple wins or close calls, and those will give you energy to be rejected some more. and eventually you'll be rejected so much that rejection doesn't feel like anything, and you will have won enough to realize your work has a place in the world, and that place is no bigger or smaller than anyone else's. your work is allowed to exist simply as it is, and you are allowed to exist simply as you are.

[lunaeclipse1057-ao3]

My Love Letter To The Community

The QSMP was everything, to me. It was such an amazing thing that not many people could even dream of, yet Quackity and his team had the vision, and not only that, but made it a reality. Thank you, Quackity. Thank you, Quackity Studios. Thank you, CC's. Thank you, Admins.

But most of all, thank you, QSMPblr.

You guys were by far the best part of this experience for me. Every event, every important moment, it was made better for me by the community. The fanart, the theories, the silly little liveblogs we all did for our favorite POV's. I laughed harder at some of your guy's stupid little chat messages or Tumblr posts then some of the actual in-stream moments.

I would not have fallen for the QSMP as hard as I did if it wasn't for the community. Before I joined Tumblr in September, it was just a little hobby I liked to check up on from time to time, but it was you, all of you, that helped me realize what a truly beautiful thing this was.

There are a few people I want to thank specifically. Putting it under a thing cause this is about to get LONG

@okaioh, my fellow Philza main, my best friend in the QSMP community. We bounced back and forth on each others ideas a lot, and you've made me laugh really hard. Thank you.

@rainbowchaox, Death Family truther. I feel like we've interacted a lot, and I've appreciated your company. Thank you.

@ultra-raging-ghost and @q-starhalo, for being my main updates on the insanity that was BadBoyHalo this year. I've really enjoyed seeing you two pop up on my dash. Thank you.

@theroseyhues, for being a new addition to my list of friends, but one I look forward to continue to interact with.

@genevawren38, BOLAS!!! You've been fun to see on my dash recently. Thank you.

@disfrutalakia, for being the only reason I knew anything about the chaos that was the Portuguese this year. Thank you.

@miscellaneoussmp, a new addition to my dash but a very welcome one. It needed more q!Pac. Thank you.

@etoilesbienne, for being the reason I got into Etoiles and learning french. Thank you.

@kadextra, for being you and making me laugh so hard with your reaction images. Thank you.

@cellgatinbo, for being the number one cannibal cellbit truther. I got most of my QSMP news from your reblogs. Thank you.

@isa-ghost, for just chatting with me from time to time and being as much of a c!Phil apologist as I have. Thank you.

@royalarchivist and @mcyt-archives, for being SUCH A FUCKING GOAT WITH THE CLIPS AND VODS, HOLY SHIT! Your blogs never fails to amaze me. Thank you.

@elcucurucho, for making me laugh so much with your funny little shit. Thank you.

@scheepstep, for being another big Death Family obsessor. I only recently discovered your blog but it's really fun to look through. Thank you.

@pixiecaps, my FitMC update blog. You seem really cool, I want to interact with you more. Thank you.

@qsmpincorrect, @qsmptwitchupdates, @qsmppollshowdownblog, and @which-qsmp-egg-would, for feeding us with your content and funny little things. Thank you.

@sweevanna and @lionheartedmusings, for your contributions, not just on the community but on the QSMP itself. Thank you.

And to everyone else. And I mean everyone. It's been real.

[reminiscingtonight]

Australia

Steph Catley x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: I've been on a G Flip kick lately

[WOSO Masterlist]

Caitlin’s going to give you so much shit.

You haven’t even signed the contract yet but you just know Caitlin’s going to give you so much shit. 

Moving to Arsenal has always been in your plans. 

Like the rest of your Australian friends, you descended upon the American scene like a moth to a flame. The league was only up and running for a year or two when you signed your contract with Portland. 

Something big and shiny you just wanted to learn a new style of football, challenge yourself with the American environment. 

Falling in love was never on your list of things to do.

Steph wasn’t someone you ever expected. Of course you knew of her. She was on the national team with the likes of Sam Kerr, Caitlin Foord, top players you could only ever dream of becoming.

So to befriend her was unexpected, the Australian quick to bond with you for your nationalities on the first day of practice. But to fall in love with Steph? Well that was even more unexpected.

Yet you did.

Somewhere along the lines of reminiscing about your homeland and cafe hopping through the streets of Portland, the two of you fell and fell hard. Your relationship flourished despite your seemingly stagnating career and her increasingly decorated one. 

You never managed to break out onto the national team and that was fine for you. You’ve long made your peace with that. Some people were just built different, and you just weren’t made to represent your country.

So you put aside your dreams and put all your effort into propping up Steph’s. You were proud of your girlfriend, happy of everything she was achieving.

Never have you once been jealous of your girlfriend. But that didn’t mean you weren’t unaware of all the looks. Of all the whispers. 

Why was Steph with someone so below her league?

But your girlfriend never made you feel small. She never made you feel bad for never reaching the same height as her.

After all, you both fell in love with the same sport. And it was your love of the sport that brought the two of you together. 

It was enough, getting to call Steph yours. You didn’t need the fame or the glory to be happy with your life.

But then Steph bid farewell to the NWSL. And with that came your relationship.

Despite most of your relationship spent long distance, your girlfriend either out on loan somewhere or playing at a different NWSL team, you guys made it work. Off seasons were spent together, if Steph was out on loan in Australia during that time you’d fly out to be by her side. 

Distance was never an issue.

Until it was. 

“You deserve someone better who isn’t on the other side of the world for most of the year.”

Steph wouldn’t hear your arguments, your pleas. Distance didn’t matter to you as long as she was yours. 

But the distance mattered to her and then she wasn’t yours.

It’s the silence that’s left behind that hurts the most. The two of you went from talking everyday to not even hearing about each other unless your Australian friends accidentally let something slip. 

One of the best things to ever come out of your relationship with Steph are the friendships you have with people you once idolized. Years spent hanging with Steph around the national team meant her friends becoming yours, especially those you eventually became club teammates with. 

Caitlin becomes your confidant, the one person you let see how the end of your relationship kills you.

You’re angry, heartbroken, too emotional to think straight. It’s Caitlin who talks you down from hanging up your boots, from losing the love you have of your favorite sport.

She helps you see why Steph did what she did. She helps you push past the hurt, to find the love even when it’s the last thing you want to see.

Caitlin fixes you and then leaves just as the gap in your soul starts to get used to the absence of Steph’s love.

She didn’t want to leave at first. Caitlin is traded to the other side of the country, similar to the way Steph was sent away during the first year of your relationship. But this time you’ve grown. You know about the offers Caitlin’s been getting overseas and convince your best friend to leave. To chase the dream you know you’ll never get. 

You get used to being alone again. Your nights are spent thinking about a crooked smile, gentle hands cupping your cheeks right before the softest kiss touches your lips. You get lost in bittersweet daydreams of how things would be different if you went with Steph to Australia instead of letting her push you away.

Three years later and you’re still fighting the urge to call the number you have memorized, hear the voice you only ever piece together in your dreams.

Three years later and you’re still playing in the same city you’ve fallen in love for the last time in.

It’s three years later and while you still see Steph everywhere you go you’ve started to move on. Steph becomes another dream to put away on the shelf, someone you know you’ll never reach again.

And then…

Another dream comes knocking.

Arsenal asks you to sign for then and suddenly you’re teetering between excitement and dread. 

Because while playing for Arsenal was something you always dreamed of, moving to Arsenal and having to confront your ex was never in the realm of anything you ever wanted to do. 

You had become okay letting go of your dream to play for the national team. You had become okay with letting go of your dream to marry the love of your life.

You had become okay with letting go of your dreams, never being able to hold on to them long enough to make them true.

Until suddenly your dream becomes a possibility and you find yourself on a plane, leaving everything you’ve come to know behind for the second time.

The locker room is bigger than you imagined, fingers tracing your new name tag with reverence. You’ve just finished your tour, met some of the girls. Leah made a comment about Arsenal being overrun by Australians, but it’s said with a lighthearted wink that told you she doesn’t actually hate it.

All that’s left are the pictures of you in your new jersey when the door opens behind you.

“Hey stranger.”

The smile on your face is genuine as you hear the familiar Australian drawl over your shoulder. She looks a little older, a little wiser, but you can still see the same old Steph that made you fall for her in the streets of Portland. There’s no hiding the pang in your heart at the sight of the band on her left hand, but you could never blame Steph for finding someone greater than you.

When Steph pulls you in for a hug, it feels like you’re finally home again.

Even if she’s not yours to have.

[kenjakusbrainstem]

Examination (Kenjaku x Reader)

Contains: Medical kink, gynecology exam gone sexual, vaginal fingering, Kenjaku as a doctor, dubious consent.

Hello~ Day 12 of kinktober was Medical play, and I have this running fantasy for a few years that goes along this similar vein. Though I've subbed Kenjaku in for the character I normally imagine in this scenario, it's surprisingly fitting for him, don't you think? Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name and shared to twt at kenjakusbrain, comment or reblog if you have anything to say!

You felt uncomfortable as you sat in the examination room. It had been some time since you had visited a gynecologist, as sexual health wasn’t quite at the top of your concern list. It had been some time since you last had a sexual partner, and even then it wasn’t something you looked forward to. That was, in part, the reason for your visit. You had some questions that you wanted to ask, just to make sure there wasn’t something wrong with you.

Along with also being new in the area and going to a new doctor, you wanted to start completely over with this move. Part of that involved making sure you were healthy, so getting back into the yearly exam was just another part of your to do list. 

It had been about ten minutes since the nurse had excused herself to allow you to undress and go alert the doctor. The gown you put on made you feel exposed, as you had trouble closing it in the back, leaving a chill to take over your body. You glanced around the room anxiously, hoping that you’d have the courage to ask your questions in a succinct manner. 

The sound of the door opening made you jump. You turned to greet the doctor but your voice caught in your throat. He looked very different than you had expected, though you weren’t entirely sure what you expected from a doctor you had known nothing about. 

The man was tall, his long dark hair pulled out of his face into a bun but the majority of it still cascaded down his back. His button up shirt looked like it was almost too tight for him, the lab coat he wore over it doing very little to conceal his bulky frame. You almost missed the small line on his forehead, choosing to ignore it as it wasn’t your place to ask about a wound on a doctor, but somehow it seemed to add to his features in such a way that made him more handsome. This doctor was easily the most attractive man you’d ever seen outside of television.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Doctor Kamo, but my patients usually refer to me as Kenjaku. I will be conducting your exam today. Is there any specific reason for your visit?” The doctor, Kenjaku, asked, it seemed he was more of a straight to business man instead of the kind that apologizes for making you wait so long. You didn’t mind though, somehow you were both reassured by his presence and made self conscious by his appearance. 

The thought of having someone this attractive touch you, wasn’t something you were ready for. Gathering your wits about you, you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

“N-not really, I’m mostly just here for an annual exam,” You forced the words out, suddenly too afraid to ask the other questions that had brought you here. Perhaps you could find another doctor to go to with those questions, some old woman that didn’t make you feel strange.

Kenjaku observed you as he began to get ready, washing his hands and putting on some gloves while studying your medical records that had been pulled up on the computer in the room.

“‘Mostly’ sounds like you have other things to say, I won’t press you, but I can’t look for things I’m unaware of,” Kenjaku said as he sat down in front of you. His words weren’t too cold, but they offered little comfort beyond not being forced to answer questions. “Your chart mentions that you aren’t sexually active, is that a choice or is that the nature of the question you don’t have?”

You blinked at the doctor, it surprised you to be read so easily. You know you mentioned that when filling out your paperwork, but you hadn’t expected it to be brought up. Especially not in this way, he mentioned not pressing, but immediately moved into asking more invasive questions. Still Kenjaku’s tone was nothing but clinical, it was his job to make sense of things like this. You probably weren’t the only person he had to pull answers out of. 

“I’ve had sex before but it just seems like there isn’t a point to it,” You answered honestly. You were interested in sex, you just didn’t understand what was so enjoyable. There was no urge to have children, all of your previous partners made sex feel like you were there for them to use and move along from. It felt more like something you did for someone else and less like something you felt pleasure in.

Kenjaku nodded, observing you more as you spoke. You felt that somehow he was reading between the things you were saying, not that you’d even said much. It was the way he stared at you, like you were to be studied and not helped.

“Interesting, low sex drive or something else? Low drive can be normal with other factors, if that is the issue. You’re a little too young for some things that can lead to difficulties with sex, have you had any problems that I should look for in my exam?” Kenjaku looked into your eyes as he spoke, his questions making your stomach turn with anxiety.

The question you had intended to ask floated to the forefront of your mind, a faint blush appearing on your cheeks. Averting your eyes you studied the wall behind him for a moment. What was the worst thing that could happen? If you got too embarrassed you could just never come back here. 

He seemed like a thorough doctor, even if he were a bit eccentric, he probably could help you in some way. At the very least he could make sure there was nothing inherently wrong with you for the issues you’d been having.

“Well, and please don’t laugh, I don’t have sex because I can’t reach orgasm. Partners have tried and it usually just turns into me faking a reaction and waiting for them to finish. So I gave up, it’s too much of a hassle to try and keep up appearances and no one wants a woman that doesn’t put out,” You explained, looking down in shame. You knew it wasn’t an intentional failing, but you couldn’t help but feel like there had to be something wrong with you.

Kenjaku didn’t laugh, but you could see a glimmer in his eye that made your stomach drop. 

“That is more common than you realize. If you don’t have anything else I should know about, please place your feet in the stirrups,” Kenjaku’s acknowledgement felt like it should have been reassuring, but it wasn’t somehow. It was hard for you to find comfort from a man as attractive as him knowing what was about to happen. 

The smile that was plastered on Kenjaku’s face felt like it should have been genuine, but there was something off. Even ignoring the strange stitching on his forehead, his handsome features didn’t show anything suspicious.

Doing as you were told you placed your bare feet in the hooks at the end of the bed, adjusting your position. The gown covered you in a way that allowed you to only see the top of Kenjaku’s head, the dark bun in his hair and the stitches you were fixated on. It was probably better that way, the last thing you needed to see was his face as he examined you.

The cold air against your pussy made you shiver, goosebumps forming on your arms in response. Even colder were the gloved hands Kenjaku touched your labia with. The fingers hadn’t startled you, but much to your embarrassment you did feel yourself clench around nothing as he examined you from the outside.

The doctor was being thorough, perhaps too thorough, but it had been so long since you’d done one of these exams you weren’t quite sure what was called for. Kenjaku seemed clinical enough, fingers not lingering, the touch wasn’t sensual at all. 

“Things seem to be normal, even your self lubrication seems to be adequate for sexual intercourse. Now hold still, this may pinch a little,” Kenjaku said matter of factly. You watched the bun on top of his head disappear as he leaned back to grab a tool off of the tray he had nearby. 

Other than the spoken warning, he didn’t hesitate inserting the speculum inside of you. It was cold, filling you up and spreading you open for him. A small pained noise left your throat, though you did try to keep quiet. You thought you could hear a small chuckle, but it was so quiet you doubted it had even happened.

There was a pause, Kenjaku hadn’t moved and you were trying to avoid squirming, hoping your discomfort wasn’t too obvious. You felt a gloved hand rest on the apex of your thigh, as if to hold you still. Though his hands had felt cold at first, now they felt warm on your skin even through the latex. It was almost comforting.

The sound of paper tearing brought you back to paying attention. You wondered what it could be, until you felt the discomfort of having a cotton swab shoved inside of you. Once it had been removed you waited for the speculum to be removed too, but nothing happened. You wondered if he was going to swab for something else, or look for something else inside of you perhaps.

Before your thought could fully form, you felt his thumb on your clit, not stimulating, just resting there. You froze, unsure if he was just being thorough or if something strange was happening.

“I’m going to run some extra tests. Everything seems in line, you don’t seem to be missing anything in the areas most sensitive, you should be able to achieve orgasm. So long as you have a competent partner,” Kenjaku’s voice retained the same clinical tone he had been using thus far. 

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before his thumb began moving in slow circles around your clit. Your hand flew to your mouth, covering it to prevent any sounds from coming out. You couldn’t deny that it felt nice, the latex felt even more foreign than his hand. 

Kenjaku watched as you clenched around the speculum that still held you open. The stimulation was so sudden and unexpected, you didn’t know what to do. When you were mulling over asking about orgasming, this had never occurred to you. 

As quickly as it entered you, Kenjaku disengaged and removed the speculum from your body. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, glad that it was gone but almost missing the fullness. 

The speed of Kenjaku’s thumb on your clit increased, the sensitive bud very receptive to his touch. It felt like electricity shooting through you, the pleasure was indescribable. You had never spent much time trying anything other than penetrative sex, so this was completely new to you. It hadn’t occurred to you to try something like this for yourself, choosing to assume all sex was the same.

Part of you wanted to express that thought to Kenjaku, that it was just something you had been unaware of and there was no need to continue. What stopped you was the feeling of two thick, gloved fingers entering your tight hole.

It didn’t hurt, especially since he had just removed a tool meant to spread you open, but it did feel big. Kenjaku’s hands were large, something you hadn’t noticed until his fingers were buried inside of you. Instead of thrusting as you had expected, they prodded about, as if he were searching for something. 

You opened your mouth to speak, to tell him that he didn’t need to do this, but your words caught in your throat as his fingers brushed up against a bundle of nerves inside you. Hand clamping back over your mouth, you bit into your fingers, using all of your focus to keep the sounds in. 

Kenjaku didn’t pull his fingers out after making his discovery, choosing instead to rub against the spot inside of you, making your thighs shake. You could feel just how wet you were getting, the squishing sound of his fingers in your pussy the only thing that filled the room other than the ones you made.

“It seems like you shouldn’t have trouble reaching orgasm now. The only trouble you’d had was just not having an attentive partner, don’t worry though, I’ll make sure to guide you through this one,” Kenjaku said, his clinical voice somehow had become arousing to you. You weren’t sure if it was just the state he had you in or if he had intended to have this affect on you.

A whine left your lips as his hand left your clit, desperate for the attention he’d been giving you. The hand instead pushed up your gown, making it so he could see your face.

You also now could see Kenjaku, nestled between your thighs with his fingers buried inside of you. Never had you thought you’d have a man so handsome like this. Even if you were just another exam to him, you knew you’d never forget the sight of him like this.

Kenjaku winked at you before lowering his face, tongue teasingly licking at your sensitive clit. You had to bite harder into your hand to keep your sounds in. Everything already felt too overwhelming, but his warm tongue lavishing your clit with attention was beyond anything you thought a person could feel.

The sight of him sucking at your clit was something you wanted burned into your mind. A strand of dark hair loose, tickling the strangely attractive stitches on his face. Kenjaku’s eyes, staring up and into yours as he took your clit fully into his mouth and sucked. It was too much, you wanted to look away but his eyes held you still somehow.

His fingers hadn’t stopped rubbing the sensitive spot inside of you, they had moved onto pressing against it. Hand shallowly thrusting directly into the nerves, making your body quiver.

You couldn’t take it any longer, feeling something snap inside of you. Kenjaku didn’t relent as you felt your body overcome with more pleasure than you thought possible. It was as if you were drowning in the way he made you feel, his hands and mouth forcing you to experience something so intense.

As he pulled his fingers from you, you could feel yourself dripping. Kenjaku had made more of a mess of you than you ever could have expected. He sat up slowly, chin glistening with evidence of your first orgasm all over it.

“See? If you tell the doctor what you need, they may be able to fix it for you. Do you feel educated now? Or do I need to have you back for another appointment, just to make sure you’re able to achieve repeat results at home,” Kenjaku’s words were a jumbled mess to you. 

Nodding, you hoped he would be willing to see you again. There was no way you would ever pass up the chance to experience something like this again.

[a-killer-obsession]

Ritual [Sanji x Reader]

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

“Do you want me to do the thing?” He whispered.

The ‘thing’ was a ritual you had formed after he'd discussed your painful menstruation with Chopper, desperate for a way to help you. The many desserts he'd lovingly make you could only help so much. Chopper had listed various things that would help the pain; anti-inflammatories, heat packs, orgasms, pressure, potassium. He'd said it so nonchalantly that Sanji almost missed it.

CW: menstruation, menstrual sex, embarrassment, shame, afab reader

WC: 1746

Masterlist || AO3

You didn't get your period every month, it was pretty irregular, but when it did happen it came hard and fast. The first two days at least usually left you bed ridden, writhing in pain. Sanji had been your official boyfriend for just over a year now, and was pretty familiar at this point with the effect your cycle had on you and the pain it caused you.  

You'd woken up with it today, it'd come without warning and you felt the cold, damp blood that soaked the sheet as you rolled over, groaning at the knife in your abdomen. Sanji heard you groan, and wrapped an arm around you. 

“Everything okay?” He asked you gently. 

“No,” you told him, flinging his arm off, climbing out of the bed, “I've ruined the sheets again.”

He lifted the blanket and saw the small blood stain. It really wasn't as bad as you thought, but you were embarrassed and smacked his hand away from the blanket. “Don't look at it!” You growled. 

“There's nothing to be ashamed of,” he said, climbing out of bed and stripping the sheet, while you stood covering your quickly reddening face with your hands. “It's fine baby, I'll take care of it,” he said, balling the sheet up in his hands.

You tried to take it from him, but he wouldn't let you. No matter how many times you had your period around him he couldn't convince you that it was nothing to be embarrassed about. He truly did not mind, as long as you weren't actually hurt he was fine seeing your blood. But you were overcome with shame every time it came around, the sense that it was taboo deeply ingrained in you. 

He took your hand gently, pulling it from your face, and replaced it with his own, cupping your cheek. “Does it hurt badly?” He asked, full of concern. 

“Yeah..” you replied, closing your eyes and putting your hand over his, holding it to your cheek. He pulled you close into a hug. 

“Do you want me to do the thing?” He whispered. 

The ‘thing’ was a ritual you had formed after he'd discussed your painful menstruation with Chopper, desperate for a way to help you. The many desserts he'd lovingly make you could only help so much. Chopper had listed various things that would help the pain; anti-inflammatories, heat packs, orgasms, pressure, potassium. He'd said it so nonchalantly that Sanji almost missed it. 

It'd been hard to convince you the first time, but after he'd done it you found your cramps significantly lessened. As embarrassed as you were, you knew it was the most effective pain reliever you had available. 

You sighed, knowing that it was what you needed, even if it was hard to admit. You were still timid about it. You realized Sanji didn't mind the blood, but you minded, so he'd found a way to help you that made you the most comfortable and made you feel the most like he couldn't see anything.  

You nodded against his chest, and he hugged you a little harder, before letting go of you slowly to find you a clean set of clothes. He found you a comfortable tshirt, and dark sweatpants. He picked out dark, very unsexy, panties. He knew at this point what kind of clothes you wanted when you were on your cycle. 

He picked up his dirty, long sleeved shirt that he'd thrown on the floor the night before, and wrapped it around your waist so nobody would see the blood on your pajama pants if you happened to pass anyone in the hall. Finally he took your hand and gently led you to the bathroom. 

You both knew the routine well at this point, the one that made you feel the most comfortable. He locked the door behind you, placed your clothes on the vanity, turned on the shower to an appropriate temperature, then turned to face the wall so he couldn't see you. You quickly removed your clothes, piling them in the corner and hiding your blood soaked panties and pants under your shirt, then you stepped into the shower. 

You rinsed away the blood from your rump and thighs, and tried to clean between your legs. Sanji didn't move from his spot until he heard the shower head being put back in its holder. He quickly discarded his pajamas and slid into the shower with you. 

He knew he wasn't allowed to touch anywhere below your waist except to do what he needed to do, so instead he just kissed you softly. You didn't need to be warmed-up, due to your condition, so he didn't need to worry about that, but he wanted to make you feel good anyway so he took your breasts in his hands and fondled them gently, playing with your nipples till he elicit a small moan from you. 

At the same time his own arousal was growing, but considering the speed of things he did still need a little help, so you reached down and stroked him gently, feeling him harden in your hand. He moaned into your mouth as you touched him, you'd been together for long enough now to know what he liked best, not that it was ever difficult to please Sanji. 

You didn't like to wait too long though, you wanted to be done with it, and your body cried out in pain, desperately needing the relief he could give you. You pulled away from him as soon as you felt he was hard enough. He knew this was his signal to do his work. 

“Front or back?” He asked you.

“Back,” you replied, turning and leaning against the wall, arching your back for him. 

He wasted no time in sliding up behind you, aligning himself with your entrance. “Okay?” he asked you. 

“Mmmhmm,” you replied. 

He held your hip gently with his free hand as he slowly entered you. He was careful to allow you time to adjust, patiently gliding in to you. You moaned softly as he finished working his way in, and he kissed you lovingly on the shoulder. You reached back and grabbed his hips, holding him still for a moment while you quietly acclimated to the fullness. When you were ready you let go, and he slowly began to pump in to you. 

He grunted quietly as he moved and you moaned at the erotic sounds he was making. He slowly increased his pace bit by bit. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder as he fucked you, and you felt the way his love radiated to you. Suddenly you felt less embarrassed, taking comfort in the way he wanted you unconditionally, and the dedication he took in making you feel safe and secure. 

“Sanji,” you whispered, “front…” 

He was surprised, you'd never asked to change position during this ritual, and it was rare for you to want to face him at all while you were like this. But you needed to see his face, you needed to look in to his eyes. He pulled out of you without question so you could turn around, and you quickly connected his lips with yours. He pressed you again the wall and lifted one of your legs, sliding back inside you. You moaned in to this mouth and ran your hands through the hair on the back of his head. 

You forgot about your pain and your shame, consumed by him. He felt the way your need for him grew, and he groaned against your tongue as he lifted your other leg. You wrapped them around him as he pinned you to the wall, fucking you harder. One arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other reaching up to find support on anything you could, sliding helplessly against the wall as he thrust in to you. 

He broke the kiss, panting hard, desperately kissing and sucking at your neck, grunting against your skin as you moaned loudly. You'd never been this feral and wanting during the ritual, usually it was a quick in and out. You were desperate for him, crying out his name, pulling at his hair and scratching his back. 

Your first orgasm came on hard, squeezing around him and crying in to his shoulder with pleasure. He didn't stop even for a second, relentless in his pursuit of your high. He relished the way you called out his name, the sweet moans you made as your pussy gripped his cock. 

Taken by the fever you'd set in him, he bit your neck, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to hurt a little, and you cried out. It hurt, definitely, but it was also incredibly arousing. You dug your nails in to his back, returning the favour, and he moaned against your neck, vibrating the delicate area he had bitten. 

He kissed and sucked at your neck and your jaw, gripping your thighs tight where he held you against the wall, plunging in to you as hard as he could. You walls tightened around him again as your second climax came, and you cried out for him, as his face pressed against your shoulder and he came with you, both shaking uncontrollably. 

He put you back down, his cock no longer inside you but still held between your thighs. He lent against the shower wall, his arms either side of you, breathing heavy. You wrapped your arms around his waist, trying to keep yourself upright. 

He looked at you and all you saw in his eyes was pure love. You kissed him tenderly, cupping his cheek with your hand, stroking it gently with your thumb. When you pulled away he sighed. 

The pain in your abdomen had left, the endorphins released by your orgasms acting as a natural pain relief, and your muscles spasming in the throes of lovemaking having helped relieve some of the pressure from inside you. 

“Better?” he asked you, his arms slipping around you and holding you tight.

You replied with a content cooing as you closed your eyes, and he smiled at you, relieved to have been able to help you. You stayed wrapped in his arms for a while, the water from the shower washed over you both and cleared away any mess. Neither of you moved till the shower ran cold. Even then you refused to move, not wanting the heat of his skin against yours to ever leave. 

[aethon-recs]

23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 (One-Shot Edition)

Happy birthday to Tom! 🤍 Here's a round-up of some of the most interesting one-shots that I came across in 2023. I tried to include a broad range of tropes and themes and ratings, but I haven't read everything published on AO3 in the past year, so feel free to suggest any others in the comment section or in my ask box!

Criteria for this list: one- (or two-) shot, complete, published in 2023. Can be read in 1 sitting. The 2nd part of this list (23 longfics updated in 2023) coming soon. Happy reading!

*

23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 — One-Shots

A Deathly Visit by @purplewitch156 (E, 7k, complete)

There once was a wizard who feared Death more than anything.

a dream is a wish by @funkyatheart (E, 5k, complete)

Harry is no stranger to wet dreams. Nightmares too, of course. They mingle, and blend together in all the wrong and most alluring ways.

A Total Absence of Light by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 8k, complete)

My name is Tom Riddle, and I am the Boy Who Lived. Something happened to turn Harry Potter into the Dark Lord, and I will do whatever it takes to learn his secrets. I don’t care that he killed my parents. I don't care that he stole my childhood. All I want is to earn the right to call myself his apprentice.

and you'll forget who i have been by @apodius (M, 3k, complete)

Tom hugs you, and for a second you relax. And then you feel a sting on your bicep through your shirt, and the world goes fuzzy.

Anniversary by @vdoshu (E, 4k, complete)

There’s a feather-light touch to Harry’s scar, one that lingers before trailing around the side of his face, coming to rest over his lower lip and tugging it slightly. Harry steels himself, then opens his eyes. “Hello, husband,” he says, facing Voldemort’s hungry gaze. “Happy anniversary.”

Apotheosis by @duplicitywrites (M, 7k, complete)

Growing up side by side with Harry Potter, beloved prophecy child, Draco learned two very important things: One, Voldemort was a god, terrifyingly monstrous and more powerful than any wizard on the planet. And two, Harry Potter was his.

Banish Me to the Garden of Eden by @contrarywiseizybel (M, 7k, complete)

Harry Potter had expected the green of the killing curse, not the red of a stunning spell. He couldn't have guessed that Voldemort would discover the truth first, and chose to trap his wayward horcrux. And in his new cage there is a very simple rule: behave and be rewarded, act out and be punished. He had been asked to die, never told to live.

Cicatrize by @noumena-writes (T, 5k, complete)

When hit with Voldemort's killing curse, Harry awakens in King's Cross. Only thing is, Dumbledore is not the one waiting for him there.

Frigid by @mrviran (E, 3k, complete)

In which one of Voldemort's Horcruxes is broken, and needs to be fixed.

Game On by penn_and_paige (T, 13k, complete)

Tom Riddle didn't pay attention to Harry Evans — that is, of course, until Evans tried to kill him.

haunt me, then by i_am_a_tree (M, 5k, complete)

"Death," Potter says, an inexplicable expression on his face that Voldemort instinctively does not like, “is quicker and easier than falling asleep."  Voldemort does not deign that statement with a reply.

Honeyguide by @cannibalinc (E, 7k, complete)

“I need an Alpha," Tom states. "Someone older. Someone already established within the Ministry with strong connections. Someone kind, a bit stupid, and rich. A Pureblood, ideally. Someone who will soften my image.”

I'm Starving, Darling (Let me put my lips to something) by @winterdeath81 (E, 1k, complete)

Harry thought for a long time he didn't like kissing until he finds that he doesn't mind doing it with Voldemort.

Insatiate by @vdoshu (E, 2k, complete)

Voldemort stole both Harry and the Philosopher’s Stone, and doomed Harry to live a half-life. That was ten years ago.

it's kind of tripping me up babe, i've got it bad for you by @limonium-anemos (E, 3k, complete)

This could've been prevented if they were paying attention, Voldemort thinks. In which they get isekai'd into a cursed erotica book.

liquid luck by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 12k, complete)

Harry is a mermaid who happens upon sea monster Voldemort, who has nefarious plans for her.

Love, Murder, Horcrux by @moontearpensfic (E, 8k, complete)

Tom makes Harry his Horcrux on the night of their wedding anniversary.

Ouroboros by @loneamaryllis (E, 5k, complete)

Red eyes followed Harrie wherever she was, in his class, in the Great Hall, walking down the corridors, out on the grounds. She could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, like scales sliding across her skin, cold, smooth, and prickling every defensive instinct she had.

Research and Development by @cannibalinc (E, 6k, complete)

Primary Objective: Establish with certainty that Subject IS or IS NOT a living Horcrux. Captured audio sample from Subject: You can’t keep me in here forever, Voldemort! Why don’t you come in here and face me, you COWARD! I’m not scared of you! Dumbledore will find me and—

Right in Front of My Salad? by IceLynx (T, 2k, complete)

In which Draco Malfoy is dead in the kitchen, Harry is regretting moving in with his boyfriend, and Tom has never been more in love.

Plains of oblivion by @milkandmoon-ao3 (E, 3k, complete) 

Trapped in the past with no way home, a disillusioned Harry executes a plan to make an ally of the rising Dark Lord and reshape history.

That's Money, Honey by @dividawrites & @duplicitywrites (E, 10k, complete) 

Tom is a dear friend to many beautiful older women who love to treat him like their beloved son by spoiling him with presents. It is the perfect gateway to the perfect lifestyle—one full of frequent spa days, free holidays abroad, and all of the latest fashions. When Auror Harry Potter claims to be investigating Tom's 'inappropriate' relationships, Tom decides the best course of action is to instigate some 'inappropriate' behaviour of his own.

The Boy With the Green Ribbon by @meles-merrivale (T, 6k, complete)

In another world, what Sirius Black finds when he sprints into Godric’s Hollow that Halloween night is bad enough. In this world, it’s so much worse. It’s James—his best friend, his soulmate, the rest of him—dead in the doorway, and vibrant, warm Lily cold on the carpet, and there, standing in his crib seeing things no infant should see, is little baby Harry. And next to him, lying on the crib mattress, is the baby’s screaming head.

Would You Still Love Me? by @chiocchi (M, comic/artwork, WIP)

"Harry, would you still love me if I was a snake?" Harry knows how this question works. No matter how deranged and unreasonable it is, he has to say yes. A notion he may come to regret once Tom's questions start to get darker and oddly specific.

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