Tumgik
#it's been weeks and i'm still not over this
astonmartinii · 3 days
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copycat | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader
they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but really it's just annoying
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
note: sorry to all of the chloes of the world, i just chose a random name!
f1tea
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liked by user1, user2 and 27,305 others
tagged: yourusername, chloereed
f1tea: SHE STRIKES AGAIN! y/n y/ln, oscar piastri's girlfriend, recently changed up her style with some bangs and surprise, surprise chloe reed shared her updated look just days later. then to really pour salt in the wound, reed posted yet again in mclaren merch. will she ever give up?
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user3: BRO YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED AT LEAST A WEEK?
user4: i think all subtlety was lost when she copied a literal TATTOO
user5: the way it's y/n's tattoo dedicated to oscar as well...
user6: at what point do we get a restraining order?
user7: the day that girl ends up in the paddock we should let y/n fight her with no consequences
user8: this has been going on for so long i feel like y/n has a lot to unleash on her
user9: at this point i think all of us y/n fans should be able to get their lick in
user10: i'm new to f1 can someone explain this lore to me? (srs)
user11: y/n and oscar have been together for nearly four years now, they got together when they were like 19. this chloe reed girl went on one date with oscar when they were 17 and now copies everything y/n does to try and get his attention? like down to haircut and tattoos ... it's kinda crazy and y/n has made some references to it but like we're nearing like the third year of this so i think she might snap soon
user12: it's even got to the point where chloe has like started talking with y/n's accent? she has a very obvious accent so like it's INSANE
user13: and to think all of this over a single date SIX YEARS AGO
user14: on a brighter note - y/n was MADE for bangs they look so fucking good
user15: obviously she should stop but if there's anyone you want to look like, it would be y/n
user16: at this point is it even over oscar anymore? or has chloe lost herself to journey to BECOME y/n
user17: the fact that she still camps out under all of oscar's posts and constantly posts in mclaren merch
user18: and don't even get me started with how she's always in the comments of oscar's sisters' comments
user19: someone needs to get nicole to put this girl on blast
user20: remember before elon took away public likes that mark went on a liking spree about chloe being a lil weirdo
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 1,209,566 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & maxfewtrell
yourusername: summer breakin' with my boy (and his boy)
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user24: MAMA THERE'S A BITCH TRYNA BE JUST LIKE YOU 💜
user25: i unfortunately think she's very aware of it
oscarpiastri: i know you love me because you didn't get annoyed about THEM gatecrashing our couples getaway
landonorris: what if we are a couple HUH???
oscarpiastri: max literally has a girlfriend?
landonorris: ur so close-minded osc
yourusername: i love you osc even with these little stray cats you've picked up
landonorris: did we or did we not organise a super romantic dinner for you?
oscarpiastri: i organised a dinner and you two are so fussy that you left to find some chicken nuggets?
landonorris: therefore giving you a romantic evening on the water?
yourusername: you fell in the water trying to get back on board from the tender and i had to jump in and save you after a fish touched your foot and you began to have a panic attack
landonorris: god you do something nice for people and all you get is SHAMED
mclarenf1: you nearly drowned ???
user26: is chloe going to attempt to drown someone so she can claim she also saved an f1 driver
user27: @georgerussell63 alert the GDPA - NO WATER !!!
georgerussell63: understood 🫡
user28: has it not gotten to a crazy point now that we're warning drivers that this crazy girl might DROWN them ???
user29: at what point do we put oscar and y/n is witness protection
user30: the day she manages to get in the paddock me thinks
charles_leclerc: i see our invite got lost in the mail?
yourusername: please refer to whatever the fuck was going above your comment
charles_leclerc: that you're a victim of identity theft?
yourusername: we been known, but BEFORE THAT
charles_leclerc: oh. you should've let lando drown
landonorris: ???
oscarpiastri: i think that might have gotten me fired?
yourusername: no more papaya rules?
chloereed
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liked by user31, user32 and 11,045 others
chloereed: summer breakin'
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user33: oh brother this guy STINKS
user34: i am feeling sufficiently creeped out on the behalf of y/n and oscar
user35: i really don't understand her game here though? does she expect oscar to see this and actually mistake her for y/n and leave y/n for her?
user36: at this point i think she's lost in the sauce
user37: also oscar is hilariously down bad for y/n like he could probably recognise her via vibrational field he would not fall for this cheap imitation
logansargeant: this ain't it btw (it's never been it)
user38: not logan tapping in
logansargeant: who gon check me boo? i ain't got a job
chloereed: i don't know what you're trying to say, but i don't appreciate you spreading misinformation and hate
logansargeant: you have literally copied everything about my best friend down to her sentimental tattoos and you've essentially stalked my other bestfriend for nearly seven years ?
chloereed: it's not stalking if i know i'm what he really wants? she's the imitation of me
logansargeant: you like need help
user39: GO LOGAN
user40: bro has been let of the leash
user41: tbf when you think about it, logan has been friends with oscar for years and by default friends with y/n for just as long so like he's probably seen how this has effected them personally
user42: i don't really see how this is such a big deal, people try and imitate celebs all the time ?
user43: i think it's because she knows at least one of them personally and is very viciously pursuing oscar
user44: also there has to be an aspect we don't know because i don't think logan would be publicly taking her on in the comments if it weren't a lot worse
user45: also ... like it probably feels like shit as a person generally to have everything you do copied and not even get a tiny bit of credit
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f1
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liked by danielricciardo, patooward and 1,784,039 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri
f1: we're ready for you monza
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user46: OMG IS THAT?
user47: i'm being so for real y/n needs to fight her
user48: OSCAR RUNNNNNNNNN
landonorris: do i need to inform the legal department?
yourusername: you might want to give them some sort of heads up
chloereed: why you afraid i'll steal back my man?
yourusername: no i'm afraid i'll get hit with a manslaughter charge
chloereed: that's a threat - my lawyers will be hearing
yourusername: tell them bitch, oscar would still choose conjugal visits with me over ever being with you
user49: came for the fast cars, staying for whatever this drama is omg
user50: i once went on a reddit deep dive about this drama where they compiled all the evidence and holy moly this confrontation has been a long time coming
user51: the best (or maybe worse) thing abotu all of this is that her claim of being with oscar first and dating him when they were 17 is based on one 'date' where is was just a joint ball between their schools where there was a compulsory dance in which they were partners
maxverstappen1: yo this shit is insane
user52: aren't you meant to be in the car in 20 minutes?
maxverstappen1: drama waits for no one @yourusername i got ur back
charles_leclerc: at this point i will mobilise the tifosi @yourusername
yourusername: i can handle her, i might just need some money to fix my nails
oscarpiastri: please do not fight her, she's not worth it
chloereed: she won't fight for your love but i will
oscarpiastri: can you just fuck off
user53: i fear she's pushed them over the edge now lol
user54: i'm glad they're both letting her have it in the PUBLIC INSTAGRAM COMMENTS <3
f1tea
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liked by user55, user56 and 34,982 others
f1tea: she's finally done it? chloe reed was spotted in the paddock at monza. will we finally see a confrontation between the two girls?
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user55: i FUCKING hope so
user56: if i were y/n you'd have to hold me back i'm being so serious
user57: i'd be in oscar's mclaren so fast and be driving down the pit lane to look for her
user58: i'd already be in an italian prison sorry not sorry
user59: y/n needs to give me lessons on being this graceful
user60: at this point we should just have an undercard for the race that's these girls tussling it out
user61: at this point i think logan, charles and max are ready to jump in
user62: charles and max being in the comments just before FP getting the scoop is so insane i love them
user63: imagine getting these f1 drivers this pressed over an aesthetic
user64: if you think this is just about an aesthetic you're just being dumb on purpose
user65: but like y/n is just a girl with bangs and a basic look, u could say like half of the female population are copying y/n
user66: but like please look at the actual evidence, it's way deeper than bangs babe
user67: also the TATTOO WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING ABOUT THE TATTOO
user68: whatever happens y/n will always be better than me
user69: she needs to bash her publicly if she won't beat her physically lol
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oscarpiastri
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 3,984,022 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: please leave us alone, you'll never be her and i don't want you to be
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user71: STUNT ON THEM QUEEN
user72: a man who vocally defends you >>>
yourusername: love you bby
oscarpiastri: if anyone wants to take me away from you they'll have to defeat me in combat
yourusername: not saying i want that but you would be so sexy in full armour
oscarpiastri: for you... i would wear anything :3
user73: bro said his piece and immediately went back to simping like a pro
user74: if he doesn't offer to wear a suit of armour in the bedroom is he really in love with you?
user75: i guess we're not getting any dad!oscar content any time soon
landonorris: ???
user75: it's a joke about protected sex genius
landonorris: OH
chloereed: that's not what you said then oscar
oscarpiastri: THAT WAS SIX YEARS AGO IN A CONVERSATION I WAS OBLIGATED TO HAVE GET A GRIP WOMAN
oscarpiastri: YOU WILL NEVER FEEL SATISFACTION IN YOUR LIFE IF YOU CONTINUE TO COPY EVERYTHING SHE DOES AND REFUSE TO BE YOUR OWN PERSON
oscarpiastri: so PLEASE FOR YOUR OWN SAKE GET YOUR OWN LIFE AND LEAVE US ALONE
oscarpiastri: oh. i'm blocked
oscarpiastri: slay
user76: so ... oscar... when can we get this level of reading on the radio
yourusername: don't make him do community service :(
user77: but him being sassy is a service to the community
yourusername: you make a good point
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,045,677 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: you can be a copy cat all you like, but you'll never beat the original
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user78: i am sorry i exist at the same time as you
user79: i know this a whole love post but i have a confession, i am IN LOVE WITH YOU GET RID OF THE AUSSIE
oscarpiastri: 🤨
charles_leclerc: this was a whole saga, i'm happy it's all worked out for you guys but this was hella entertaining - when can we do it again?
yourusername: never again hopefully
charles_leclerc: boring!
yourusername: it literally got to the point that you offered to leave your car keys in a 'special spot'
charles_leclerc: well obviously i don't mean to THAT extent but i just want a bit of drama, let a girl live
user80: shit stirrer charles leclerc i love you
user81: we should've known he was in the trenches with this, the inchident knows no bounds
oscarpiastri: i love you and i'm sorry this happened. but you do slay so i could see why people would want to be you
yourusername: i knew me with bangs would be too powerful 😔
oscarpiastri: you're the most beautiful girl in the world no matter what
yourusername: ugh you have me blushing pretty boy
landonorris: cringe
yourusername: maybe if you copied oscar's flirting techniques you'd actually be wifed
landonorris: i thought we just established that copying is bad
yourusername: trust me, you need the help
user82: i'm glad we've returned to peace with the lando slander
user83: they're power is insane
maxverstappen1: can i say helping you come up with this caption is my community service
yourusername: fuck yes
maxverstappen1: stunting on hoes is very much in the public interest
fin.
note: i'm back in a rhythm !! this is not so subtle so i'll expand here: please please please do not steal my work, idc if you change the driver, if you're blatantly stealing my ideas and concepts - to the point that people are messaging me to make me aware, please don't! or at least credit me rather than pretending this a completely original thought. mamma mia didn't bother me as much because it's obviously the musical's idea, but omg undercover verstappen? big reputation? and guilty as sin - down to the series name? i haven't made any posts about this but know it's very much bothering me and if i see anymore i may have to put it on blast. thank you all for reading, soz for the rant but this has been going on for months.
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pseudowho · 1 day
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"Hey! Nanamin, Mrs.Nanamin?"
You and Kento looked up at Yuuji from your places on the sofa; you, with your cross-stitch and your tongue between your teeth, and Kento looking over his newspaper and reading glasses. Yuuji dried his hands, having washed the final dish.
He grinned, ruffling stray bubbles into the back of his hair, and tapped away on his phone. Kento's phone buzzed, and he picked it up, looking at the screen.
"It's my birthday next week--"
"--dont worry, Yuuji, we know--"
"--and I'm just gonna have a little party in the Jujutsu High forest. Gojo says it's okay, thought you two could come along. I've qjust sent you the deets."
As Yuuji walked off to his room, you looked up at Kento, who read the invitation in increasing confusion, a dismayed little hum rumbling out of his throat.
"What? What is it?" You asked around the needle pinched between your teeth, leaning closer to peer at Kento's phone.
"The party..." Kento hummed.
"...the party...?"
"Apparently it's going to be 'dank'."
"Oh...sounds unsanitary."
Kento hummed again. "Quite. Though perhaps if we bring our best 'rizz', Yuuji thinks the party will be 'bussin'. Even better, if our outfits 'slay', he'll be 'highkey' excited."
You frowned, then scoffed, calling down the hallway.
"Hey, Yuuji? This invitation..."
"Yeah?" He shouted back, "What about it?"
"Have you had a stroke?"
Yuuji laughed, unabashed, and walked out in his pyjamas, grinning. "Nah, for real for real, it'll be great. No cap."
You and Kento looked at Yuuji like he'd grown an extra head. Yuuji laughed again, and got a glass of water before bidding them goodnight, scoffing as he went into his room;
"Millennials."
You and Kento sat in stunned silence in the lamplight. Kento looked at your cross-stitch and fluffy socks. He felt his reading glasses on his head, his newspaper forgotten in his lap, and you seemed to be thinking the same, before asking him in quiet horror:
"Kento...are--are we old?"
Another dismayed hum, from beside you.
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The 20th of March arrived; a balmy spring evening. The sun was setting as you and Kento approached the forest at Jujutsu High, seeing the flicker of flames in a great firepit, hearing music and laughter, and clinking glass.
Panda tossed bottles of drink across the floating crowd; Maki and Megumi caught theirs seamlessly, and Nobara fumbled hers to the tune of laughter, her eye patch replacing her depth perception.
The birthday boy bustled around, accepting claps on the back, gifts and well-wishes, his hair turned coral in the dying sun. He looked up as you and Kento approached, looking happier still.
Yuuji softened at Kento's smile, accepting a gift with the promise of 'more at home'. Kento patted Yuuji on the shoulder, looking him up and down.
"Looking good, Yuuji. On fleek."
Yuuji faltered, unsure. "Oh, on...?"
Kento turned to you, only marginally irritated when Gojo joined your group. As the conversation grew between you, Kento and Gojo, Yuuji looked more and more sidelined, eventually fumbling for his phone, his trusty translator.
"Went to talk to the higher-ups today--
"Ugh! Adulting."
"-- legit. Looked over their new hashtag 'Student Protection Policies', and they were so fucking basic--"
You and Kento scoffed as Gojo continued, and Yuuji listened on, flicking through the glossary of his mind.
"--so yeah anyway, cheeky humblebrag, but when they told me I couldn't argue, I told them that they'd die of old age before they got a good policy out. Solid clapback, I feel."
You and Kento scoffed, sipping your drinks, answering; "Savage"-- "Woke up ready to throw shade, huh."
The party went on, and Yuuji found himself overhearing more and more of Kento's conversations. Yuuji had a growing list of words on his phone, and increasingly looked at Kento as if he'd been replaced by another man.
Yuuji looked down at his phone, scrolling through the list; he had no answers. He still had no idea what time 'Leet o'clock' was, he'd been called 'dude' at least seven times, and he had lost a game that he hadn't even known he was participating in.
Kento turned back to Yuuji, smiling again at his disgruntled expression, thanking him; "Party's lit, Yuuji. Having fun?"
As Yuuji opened his mouth to argue, you approached, grinning at Yuuji and looping your arm through Kento's; "You alright kiddo? Looking a bit shook."
"I-- what? I don't--"
Kento leaned in to you, talking lowly in your ear; "Just been schooling this boy on the appropriate vernacular. I like to think I'm winning."
You laughed, delighted. "Weird flex but okay."
You melded back into the party ("Oh my god! Megumi's puppers! C'mere boy, who's a good doggo..."), and Yuuji fizzled at Kento, pugnacious.
"You're fucking with me, aren't you?"
Kento looked at Yuuji with absolute innocence. Yuuji puffed his cheeks out, putting his phone away and stabbing a finger at Kento.
"I'll get you back for this. Just 'cos you two are old."
Kento scoffed again, the barest smirk on his lips. "We're not old. You're just a baby."
"Yeah, yeah, Nanamin. Tell me that again when you stop taking two ibuprofen in the morning 'just in case'."
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A cheeky Millennials and Gen Z love letter, written absolutely tongue-in-cheek
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woso-dreamzzz · 1 day
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Injured (Alba's Version) IV
Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader
Summary: The aftermath
*TW: parental neglect, aftermath of suicide*
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It takes Alexia nearly a week until she realises you're missing.
You're self-sufficient and independent. You've never needed much and it's not weird for Alexia to not see you for days on end.
You come home from whatever you spend your days doing and go straight to your room.
You make your own meals, she's pretty sure because she never has to make extra. Just enough for a family of three. Two when Olga is away from work.
It's a fleeting thing really, the only way that she realises you've disappeared.
She knocks on your door, intent on finally having that conversation about what you're planning on doing with your future.
There's no answer.
"Now's not the time to sulk, y/n," She calls through the door," If you don't come out then I'm coming in!"
Still silence.
"One! Two!"
Alexia doesn't wait for three, shoving open the door.
She expects to see you on your bed, sulking or whatever it is you do when she's not around.
You're not there though.
Your bed is made. Your clothes are packed away.
There's nothing out of place. Nothing to prove that this room was even really yours apart from a few neat stacks of paper on your desk.
Alexa glances over them, frowning as if they'd give her the answer to where you've gone.
She's been home since last night, the first one up and awake in the house. There's no way you could have snuck past her.
"Jaume!" She yells out," Where's your sister?"
"I don't know! Out with friends or something?"
That's odd.
Alexia can't remember the last time you mentioned a friend to her. To be honest, Alexia can't remember the last time the two of you actually had a conversation.
She shuffles through the papers on your desk.
Yes, she thinks, you must be with friends because there's three tickets to a ballet performance on Saturday.
You must be wanting to take them with you.
It's only when Alexia sits up that night, waiting for you to come home, that she gets the sinking feeling you're not coming back.
She waits for hours until the early hours of the next morning and the sun begins to rise before panic lances through her chest.
You've not come home.
She checks her phone, wondering if she missed a text saying you would stay at a friend's house but there's nothing.
She checks your room, just to see if you've climbed in through the windows but they're locked.
You are nowhere.
She pulls Jaume out of school for the day. She calls Olga to come home from Madrid.
She scours all of the places she thinks you hang out but you're nowhere to be seen.
It's almost like you've never existed in the first place.
The call comes in the evening.
It's Alba.
"I can't talk right now," Alexia says after two missed calls," I'm-"
"I'm sorry," Alba says instead.
"What?"
"I'm sorry." Alba chokes her words out like they're so physically painful she can barely say them. Like she's so numb that even talking is difficult. "I tried but..."
"Alba? What's happened? Listen, I really can't talk right now. I'm-"
"I really did try. They did too but it was already too late."
"Alba, what is going on?"
"We should go to the hospital," Alba says," I'll send you which one."
In the deepest pit of her chest, Alexia already knows what has happened. In some deep, dark part of her, she's known since Alba called. In the worst, most hidden piece of herself, Alexia has known since the beginning.
It's an awful thing for an aunt to see.
It's a terrible thing for a brother to see.
It's even worse for a mother to see.
A picture goes up at the ballet company.
(Alexia didn't even know you joined one).
It's of you smiling, the headhsot that they used on the website, displayed proudly in the main foyer.
'Rest In Peace' sits under it and a little plaque with your name and how long you lived. It states your interests with no hint about trains at all. It talks about your reserved disposition but mentions how you endeared yourself to everyone.
Flowers sit under it, bouquets upon bouquets from the dancers and the staff and audience members who have seen you perform.
(Alexia has never been to a performance once).
Support pours in from people Alexia hasn't spoken to in years. Old coaches. Old teammates. Old friends.
Everyone seems to have a fond memory of you but all Alexia can think about is the last words she said to you.
She can't remember them.
She can't remember what she said or how she felt or what she was doing.
There is a gap in her memory from that moment.
Everyone talks about you so fondly, with such clarity that Alexia can't replicate.
You have gone on a wisp of breeze and Alexia is left trying to catch the impossible.
Her mind circles around herself, trying to work out where this all went wrong.
She loved you. She loved you so much.
Her beautiful baby girl who was a little nervous and a little quiet but beautiful all the same.
The little girl who loved trains and ballet and doing all the super feminine stuff that Alexia had to learn when she was a bit older.
The people around her tell stories of you, like Ingrid talking about how you used to love having her braid your hair back but Alexia sits there numb.
She's been numb since she saw your body in the hospital morgue.
She's been numb since the funeral where you lay in your coffin, perfectly peaceful like you were taking a long sleep.
She's been numb since they all returned to Eli's house for food and drink to celebrate your life.
Alba is not talking to her, has not talked to her outside what is needed since she called.
Alexia hasn't even noticed, too preoccupied with the realisation that she's a mother that just had to bury her daughter.
It was not a disease that took you. It was not a heart attack. It was not a random attack on the street.
It was you.
You made this decision, decided that this world was not worth living in anymore. That you could no longer cope with everything happening around you.
Things that Alexia has no knowledge on and, now, will never have any knowledge on.
You thought that this path was better than returning home.
You thought that everything would be better, more peaceful if you took your life away.
People have been cautious around Alexia, seeing just how close she is to tears.
She didn't cry during the funeral when you were lowered down into the ground with nothing but a neat blouse and a skirt.
Nothing to take with you now that you're gone.
Olga had to pack your things away in your room because Alexia could not force herself to even step through the doorway.
Your things are gone.
You are gone.
And Alexia will never know why.
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adimouze · 2 days
Text
Max spent this entire week stuck to Daniel. He's the only one who literally said "He's my friend and if he were to walk out today he still would have achieved more than most" then walked Daniel home under an umbrella getting himself wet.
Yuki repeated over and over and over that he's learning so much from Daniel, how helpful Daniel has been, how good his feedback is. Also all their PR videos kinda make me think Yuki's pretty much warmed up to Daniel enough that he can joke around with him more. It's more sibling coded now than it was a year ago.
Lando. Lando literally went "Team Daniel" unprompted. Didn't have to say shit, he was not involved in any of this. But still. Team Daniel.
Anyways I understand it seems so dark and daniel seems very alone and stranded but I'm CHOOSING to believe that man is going to get in a car with Max Verstappen and chat shit until they both need to go to bed. So. It'll be okay. He's a big boy.
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mbsneur · 2 days
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Heated Night
Leah Williamson x Reader
Hey, my loves! I'm so sorry I haven't posted all week. I've been really sick and I'm still not 100% but I really hope you like the fic! I'm open to feedback and your opinion. I'd also love to hear your ideas about which players I should write about (and the topics) my requests are always open. Thanks so much! 🩵
Warnings: Smut18+ minors DNI, Virgin Lesbian sex
My Masterlist
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The night is hot and hazy. Arsenal won the WSL Cup with a goal from Stina in the 116th minute. You went to a nearby club to celebrate. You and your win are the talk of the town. You're the chick from Arsenal. Everyone looks out for you more than themselves. That's how it is when you're 19 and moving from a small country to a big one.
There are a few of you out there who can't hold it in and are already visibly drunk, including Leah.
Leah was the first person to take you in a few months ago, she showed you the city, the best cafes, the best restaurants, she has become something of a confidante to you, she was very self-absorbed that night, she drank a lot, and every time you wanted a little more, Katie took the glass from your hand and gave you something with less alcohol in it.
Kyra has pulled you away from Katie and towards the bar, "I'm sure you need more alcohol," she says, grinning and ordering two Daiquiris without hesitating.
You had a few more cocktails, she literally wanted to get you drunk, when you had more alcohol in your system, Kyra pulled you onto the dance floor and occasionally uttered chopped up words.
She stumbled over her own feet a few times, which made you laugh. Every now and then, Alessia came to you to bring you more and more alcohol. You got warm, your blood got thicker in your veins, your body got heavier and more excited. You haven't been this drunk for a long time.
Kyra was right there with you the whole time, and you saw Leah swaying in Laia's arms. She lifted her head from Laia's shoulder and met your gaze. Before you could react, Alessia nudged you and gave you another drink.
The time flew by until Kim pulled you into the group by your arm and Beth held Leah "You're both drunk, go to bed and sleep it off, mh" Kim said caringly and Leah's eyes rolled in annoyance "Leah, you're going to take Y/N to her room safe and sound, can you do that? Can you take care of her?" Beth frowned and looked at Leah, Leah's eyes widened, "Yes, I'll take her to her room safe and sound," Leah said with a smile, "Come on, sweetheart," she added, taking you by the hand.
"Take care of her," Beth calls after you, she pulled you out of the party crowd and was visibly unsteady on her feet, your hotel had no lift as you reached the stairs, Leah looked over at you, "can you manage on your own," she says, mumbling and stuttering, your vision spins and you shrug your shoulders. "Get on my back," she says with a grin, and you start to laugh out loud.
"Ey, why are you laughing, I'm strong," she says, frowning, "you're drunk," you stammer, and Leah starts to laugh at you.
You grip the railing and Leah leans forward. "Come jump and hold on tight." You move over to her and put your hands on her shoulders. You jump up slightly and her hands wrap tightly around your thighs. Leah starts to wiggle on her legs and you hold on to the railing with a jerk. You laugh and say, "Are you sure you can do this?"
Leah leans up and puts one foot on the step. "I'm drunk, but I can carry 60kg up the stairs."
You laugh at her words.
The walk up took half an eternity and when you got to the top, Leah let you down gently, "What room are you in?" she asks, looking straight into your eyes, "3048," you say shakily, your eyes flickering, "I'm taking you, I told Kim and Beth you'd be fine in your room," she says, holding your arm lightly, you nod and head for your room.
You hold your card against the sensor, and Leah helps you into the room. She wraps her arms around your waist and kicks the door shut with her foot. She takes you to your bed and sits you down. You look at her with puppy dog eyes and she say "I'll help you undress." She laughs and says, "Okay i start with your shoes." She bends down and helps you remove your shoes.
Leah bends up again and asks, "Do you want to sleep without a shirt?" You nod, and she grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it up. You lift your arms up, and she comes closer to you. She removes the shirt from your head and almost falls on top of you. She starts laughing and looks deep into your eyes. Her gaze is bold, fixed on your full breasts in a red lacy bra. Her eyes darken, and her lower lip slips between her teeth. Your jaw drops, and Leah looks back into your eyes.
"You'd better not look at me like that," she says hoarsely, your eyes rolling from the alcohol at the back of your head, and you reply hazily, "What happens if I do?
Leah's teeth clench tightly before she presses her lips firmly against yours. Your kiss is firm and lasts for a few seconds until Leah pulls away first and rests her forehead against yours. You grab her neck and pull her lips back onto yours.
Your kiss is more intense this time and your tongue presses against her lips, as if asking for entrance. Leah, let your tongues play with each other. You let out a little moan until Leah lets go of you. "Are you sure? I don't want you to feel like a woman for a one night stand," she says, mumbling and looking at you confused.
"I've never had sex with a woman before," you say, blushing. Leah smirks slightly at you. "Do you want me to be the first woman to fuck you?" she says, her voice harsh. Her index finger plays with your bra strap.
"Please leah, fuck me," you demand, and Leah moves away from you. "You'll be good for me. You understand. You'll undress and wait for me. I'll be right back." She turns her back to you, takes your and her room card, and stumbles out of your room.
You did as you were told and stripped naked. Your vision is blurred and your head is spinning.
After a few minutes the door to your room opens and Leah returns with her strap-on in her hand, "Listen carefully, I am going to tell you some of my rules since you are a virgin," she says with a slight smile, sitting down next to you on the bed.
You nod and lean against the headboard. Leah now hovers over you and slowly begins to kiss your shoulder blade. "Tell me if you want me to be gentle with you or if you want me to be rough," she says between kisses. Your breathing is heavy and you try to find the right words. "I want you to be rough. Don't hold back," you say, moaning slightly and feeling Leah's teeth on your bone.
"You'll tell me if it's too much for you and if you want me to stop, I don't want to push you into anything, OK?" she says looking up at you briefly you nod eagerly and Leah's brow furrows "That's another rule, when I ask you something I expect an answer, use your words," she says now taking your breast in her hand, your back arching slightly from the bed "Oh, is someone sensitive? she asks with a grin
She takes your other nipple between her teeth and nibbles lightly on it. You spread your legs without hesitation and Leah's head now wanders over your belly. Your fingers claw into the sheets and your muscles twitch with every kiss.
She grabs your thighs and spreads them wide open, giving her better access to you. She looks at you one last time and asks, "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Now, please, just fuck me," you say, your voice desperate. Leah smirks at that, her tongue shooting out right against your core.
You haven't had sex for a long time, Leah explores every inch of your pussy and eats you out. Your hips bounce against her mouth and your legs start to wriggle. Leah's muscles push your legs apart again and she hits every spot that is celebrating inside you.
She's teasing you with her tongue, making your head roll back and turning your whimper into a moan. You're experiencing sensations you've never felt before, and you're a moaning mess.
Leah knows exactly how to drive you to the edge. With every suck, snap, and lick, her movements bring you closer and, You're already dangerously close. You try to find words, but they fail you. Instead, you moan and press your hips closer to her face. And try to tell her somehow that you are coming, Leah will look at you and hum to you, take it as confirmation and let your body respond to your orgasm.
You moan her name as she takes you through your long orgasm, your legs trying to close but held in place by Leah. You're consumed by her, and you don't know when the new orgasm started and the old one stopped. Your moans turn into whimpers, Leah. Let's go from you. You cry out from the sudden separation. She looks at you. Her lips are swollen and wet. Her eyes are darkened and her breathing is heavy.
She slowly comes up to you and you feel her breath on your lips. "Can I kiss you?" she asks in a low voice. You answer with a simple yes and,Leah's lips immediately land on yours
You let out a low growl at the taste on Leah's lips. After a few minutes, she looks at you again. "Are you riding me? Do you think you can do that for me?" she demands, her grin smug and confident.
I don't know if I can do this," you say, blushing, and Leah smiles at you, "You will, you will be a good girl, I will help you," she says, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You nod and wait for the next move. Leah gets up to put on the strap. You watch her every move. Her body is sweaty and her nipples are visible through her sports bra. Her veins are popping out. Her stomach muscles twitch with every movement. Her ponytail is all messed up, and individual hairs stick to her temples.Your eyes light up when you look at her. That was always the case, there was something about Leah that fascinated you.
When she's finished, you slide to the side to make more room for Leah. She sits down right next to you, leans against the headboard and hits her thighs as a sign for you to sit on her lap. You do as you're told and swing one leg over her muscular belly. She moans slightly as she feels your still-wet pussy on her stomach. She puts her hands on your hips and looks at you. "Are you ready?" she says, her voice firm. She lifts you slightly, her eyes sharp. "Your words, darling," she says, her tone assertive. Your eyelids twitch. "Yes, Leah, I'm ready," you reply, your voice steady. She smiles, her gaze warm. "Good girl," she whispers.
She guides you to sit on the tip of her strap and you moan in pleasure. Your hands find their way to her belly to support yourself. Leah's gaze is fixed on your pussy until she lets you close her strap completely. You whimper against her, and she starts to move your hips forwards and backwards. Her mouth is open, but you just sit up and want to ride her yourself. You don't need Leah's help. You want to prove something to her.
she keep her hands on your hips as you place yours on hers, moving a little faster than Leah has instructed. You rock back and forth quickly, which makes Leah let out a little whimper. Her hands loosen and reach for your arse, and your hands move up to her breasts, gently squeezing them. You lean forward ever so gently.
Leah's moans get louder and so do yours, your hips moving in time, your stomach muscles beginning to tense and your legs trembling "You look so hot right now," Leah says moaning, grabbing your neck to make you look at her. "Oh my, Leah, it feels so good," you say, your cheeks flushed and a little whimper escaping your lips. Your eyes roll back in your head, and Leah's grip on your neck tightens. You dig your nails into her sports bra, and Leah slowly starts to move her hips.
You feel Leah's legs cramping underneath you, your pussy tightening around her strap and you let out the loudest moan of the night "I'm so close" you manage to say "come on my cock make a mess" Leah says moaning as she pulls you closer to her by the neck. After a few seconds, you come loudly on her cock. You feel your juices running down your thighs. Your legs shake and wobble uncontrollably. You can't hold yourself properly anymore. Leah's hand leaves your neck and goes to your hips again. She holds you tight and sits up, pressing her upper body against yours so you can hold on to her neck.
"I need a little more. Don't stop moving," she demands, moaning. Your noises become oversensitive. Your legs are still shaking, and Leah's lips are on your shoulder to hold back her moans. She pushes you against her again and again. After a few pushes, Leah comes too. She comes silently, her teeth biting into your shoulder. Her legs are weak, and she lets herself fall on her back.
Her strap is still inside you and she is out of breath. You move off her slowly and deliberately, taking care not to overstimulate yourself. You sit down next to her, and when she wants to take off her strap, you grab her hand.
"Leah, wait, I want to clean you up," you say through clenched teeth, and Leah laughs devilishly at you, "You want to do that, yes, then I hope you will make an effort," she says again bossily. There is no time to waste and you immediately kneel down between her legs as Leah's hands grab hold of your hair and guide you closer to her strap.
You take her cock a bit into your mouth and Leah pushes your head further down. Your hands rest on her thighs. Your mouth starts to get faster. With every thrust, the strap hits Leah's clitoris. You look up at her. You have never seen her as vulnerable as she is at this moment. Her mouth opens and out of it comes a lot of little whimpers.
Leah pushes your head down deeper and faster. You gag and spit flows out of your mouth and lands on Leah's stomach. Tears come to your eyes and Leah starts to moan properly this time. "You're doing so well. You're gonna make me cum," she says. You take it as an incentive and let the strap slide deeper into your throat with a deep moan. Leah cums.
„Are you sure this is the first time you've had sex with a woman?" she says laughing and looks at you, "Are you calling me a liar?" you say snappishly, "Bathtub?" Leah asks and you agree.
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barcaatthemoon · 1 day
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“i’d like u to spend the week with me” , lucy bronze :)
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communicative || lucy bronze x reader ||
Getting back together with Lucy was weird. It had been almost 15 year since you had broken up. Both of you had been through a lot since then and had many opportunities to become different people. And in some ways, you were both completely different, but some things never changed. It seemed like there were some habits neither of you could shake, and for Lucy, the one that stuck out the most was how pouty she tended to get.
"Stop looking at me like that," you said as you glanced at Lucy's reflection. You were getting ready for your first little interview since you'd announced as the head coach for England's rugby team.
"Like what? I'm not doing anything, that's just my face," Lucy huffed. You turned around to fully face her, knowing that wasn't the case. Lucy was pouting at you, just like she had been since you told her that you were going back to your place at the end of today.
"No, you're pouting because you want something that you're too proud to admit. I won't play this guessing game anymore, just say what you want from me," you told her. Lucy glanced down for a moment, almost like she was embarrassed. "Come on, we both have to communicate, and now it's your turn."
"I don't want you to leave. It's like you just got here, and so much of your time has been taken up by everybody else. I'd like you to spend the week with me, that's all." Lucy bit her lip as she waited for your reaction. The first time around, Lucy had been terrified of being clingy with you, so she pushed you away. You were secure enough in yourself now that she couldn't do that, not when it had factored so heavily into your breakup before.
"I still have to run home and grab some clothes, but I'll come back. Better yet, you can take me tomorrow after your practice is over. See how easy it is to get your way when you don't act like a little baby?" you asked teasingly. Lucy scoffed and sat up to tug you into bed with her. She was about to try and make out with you, but you reluctantly stopped her. "I'm not redoing my makeup, nor do I trust you to fix what you fuck up."
"Fine, but I want kisses when you're done."
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flowersforbucky · 1 day
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Idk if you take requests but I love the way you write older logan so I'd love it if you wrote older logan coming home after a long shift of driving the limousine to find reader wearing his flannel and how he reacts <3
thanks so much for this! i have such a soft spot for older logan 🤧💕 18+ only mdni
warnings/tags: logan refers to himself as your old man, reader can wear logan's flannel but no specific physical descriptions, not explicit but there's suggestiveness/implied smut
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Tonight, you find yourself especially grateful that Caliban stays with Charles in the water tower during the night. You're always grateful for this, of course. You don't know what any of you would do without his help.
But tonight, you're even more thankful than usual.
Having picked up a few extra shifts at the diner you work at this week, you've barely had time to do anything except sleep when you've been off the clock. Therefore, dishes have piled up and you desperately need to catch up on some laundry on your day off tomorrow.
In the meantime, you wear nothing but one of Logan's old flannels that hangs low enough to cover the curve of your ass - barely.
As if that isn't reason enough to be glad for the privacy, you can't seem to stop yourself from smelling the collar of the shirt every so often, inhaling the familiar and comforting scent of Irish Spring soap and old tobacco.
You'd received a text from him stating he is on his way home almost half an hour ago, so you decided to stay awake until he gets home. In actuality, you'd seen him before you left for work this morning, but it feels like it has been days since you'd been able to do anything other than bid each other quick goodbyes as one of you comes or the other goes.
You stand in the makeshift kitchen of the abandoned smelting plant that you've come to call home, reheating the food that you brought home with you from work earlier. It's dark except for the old TV that stays on near constantly for the comfort of background noise.
You see the limousine headlights flash through the thin curtains that you'd hung up throughout the factory, and you breathe a sigh of relief that he's home as the microwave begins to ding.
He enters a few moments later, locking the door behind him before noticing you leaning against the edge of the kitchen table, next to the food that you have ready for him.
“What exactly did I do to deserve coming home to this?” His voice is tired but still teasing.
“I brought home some leftovers from the diner earlier,” you shrug, nodding towards the plate beside you. “I figured you didn't eat before you left for work.”
He shrugs out of his work jacket, unsnapping the top buttons of his white button down as he slowly walks over to you. His gaze trails from your bare legs and up to your face.
“You'd be right about that,” he admits with a short, low chuckle. “But I'm talking about you wearing this.”
He stands directly in front of you, his hands lightly tugging on the hem of his flannel that graces your thighs.
“This old thing?” You run the palms of your hands up his chest, feeling the hard bulk of his muscles from beneath the smooth material of his button down shirt. When your hands reach his throat, you clasp them around the back of his neck and pull his face closer to yours. “Need to catch up on laundry real bad, it's the only clean thing I could find.”
He hums in consideration, unable to conceal the smirk that forms on his lips in the glow of the TV light. His hands move to your lower back, pulling you flush against him before bunching the loose fabric in his fists.
“I don't think this is clean,” he murmurs against your mouth, the thick scruff of his beard tickling your jaw and sending goosebumps down your spine. You can smell the familiar hint of whiskey on his breath. “In fact, I slept in it just the other night. I'm thinking you just missed your old man.”
“Two things can be true at the same time,” you retort. You did miss him - you always miss him when work and other priorities have to take precedence over time spent together.
“Oh yeah?” He lifts you up the slightest bit by the backs of your thighs, plopping you down on the kitchen table. He nudges your knees open with his own, spreading your legs enough to wedge his body between your thighs. “How about you lay down on this table and let me show you how much I've been missing you, then?”
You glance down at the forgotten plate of food that you'd made for him - it can be reheated again later, you suppose.
••••••
thank you for reading 💕💕
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tan1shere · 2 days
Note
could you maybe write something fluffy and smutty about honeymoon/wedding night sex w billie? if you are in a request mood
Forever Love
A/n: Most certainly my kind anon !
Warnings - smut ! | masterlist
Giggles fill the small hotel room. Both yours and Billies as she carries you bridal style, plopping you on the soft bed. It had only been a day ago since the wedding and you had gone to Paris for your honeymoon. Well that was just the first stop for a week, then you'd head over to somewhere tropical for another week. Both of your smiles were glued onto your faces, the happiness radiating off of one another. "I love you." She says kissing all over your face.
You giggle as her breath tickles your skin. "I love you, so much more." She shakes her head. "Uh uh. Me." She climbs ontop of you, trapping your body. "I'm sure it's me." You fire back. "Why don't we put it to the test hm?" Her face comes incredibly close to your own. And it was clear where this was heading.
"I still love you more." Her fingers travel down your body as you say that. She keeps quiet, sneaking her hand under your dress and landing it on your thigh. Her taunting manner brings your nerves up. When she looks you in the eyes, slowly going down your body. Her warm lips were on your thighs. "I'm gunna love you til you're screaming." Your eyes widen, even more so as she bites the flesh on your thigh. A moan slipping out.
Her finger moves to your entrance, touching the thin fabric. "Can feel you throbbing." She groans as she sucks marks on your thighs. Your head lulls back, already feeling amazing by your wife's tongue. Your brain couldn't even process her words as she takes your underwear off. "All for me to devour." You hadn't seen this side of Billie yet, and you were loving it so much. She was feral, acting like a female dog on heat. This woman wasted no time at all in latching her lips onto yours. Sucking and licking like she craved you. But she did.
She always thought you were tasty in so many ways. You were like a drug to her and she just couldn't get enough. Not to mention how she felt seeing you walk down that isle, the dirty thoughts came alongside the loving ones. She just loves you so fucking much. And she was definitely proving that now. Your hands move into her hair gripping as her pace quickens. Your head still far back into the pillows as she laps at you. Your back soon arches wanting more of what she was giving.
"So greedy." She mumbles against you, earning a sweet whimper from none other than you. You knew you had lost this fight, even though she knew how much you loved her. She always had to show you who wins, she always was competitive. And she definitely won when you entered her life. She couldn't be more happy, not to mention when you said yes the day she proposed. She truly won in life. You were her work of art, trophy. And the way she'd worship you proved that.
Her tongue was relentless, as you soon feel that coil about to snap. "Mm fuck!" You moan out as the yummy feeling approaches. "Come on wifey, cum for me." And that's all it took, that single word was it, to make you burst right on her tongue. She always made you see starts. And she was so proud she could.
"I just made my wife cum for the first time."
Your brows furrow as you catch your breath. "But you always make me cum." Her face is directly over yours with a smirk.
"You weren't my wife then, were you?"
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evilgwrl · 21 hours
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hey sunshine 🥰 could you possibly do the 141 with a hyper independent reader? id love to see how they handle a s/o like this!! if not, i totally understand 💜💜 enjoy your sunday
Ofc!! I hope this is what you were looking for, I'm not the most educated on hyper-independence but I tried to do a lil research <3 Sorry it took me so long to write it, I've been having a hectic week
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Your feet strummed against the floor; body restless as you looked at the flock of emails piling up. Fidgety hands were tugging at your hair as you looked at the time. Your laptop shut with a huff as you walked into the kitchen, eager to eat as your stomach grumbled.
There was a soft shell of steam covering the room, food broiling in the oven as you turned your attention to the chopping board. You swore quickly, the smell of burning sauce catching your attention as you turned to quickly stir it. Your body swayed back and forth, constantly focusing on something new as you struggled to keep up.
You had a strict schedule, always needing to be on top of everything. You enjoyed the smiles on the boy’s faces when they came through the door to a cooked meal. It was different today, however. Work had finished later than usual, pushing your activity back as the boys walked through the door.
“Hey, bonnie,” Soap flattered, pressing a kiss to your head as he looked at the kitchen, every saucer in use.
“Hi,” you smiled, swatting his hands away as he attempted to stir something.
“Smells good, love,” John cooed, husky breath against your neck as he hugged you from behind.
“I’ll set up the dining table,” Kyle chirped as you quickly yelped at a ‘no’.
“No, no. I’ve got it. Just go sit down. It’s nearly done.”
Simon raised a brow, taking in your quick no. They knew you enjoyed working alone, it just seemed easier for you, but the scene before him was overwhelming to look at as you rubbed at your forehead, pulling something out of the oven.
“We’re happy to help, sweet’art, just let-“
“No, no, I promise its fine. Please just go sit down.”
You were consistent as you shushed them out of the kitchen with a handtowel, turning your attention back to the scene in front of you. Soap frowned as he sat down, resting his chin in his hand.
“She’s gonna work ‘erself to death,” Simon scowled, concerned.
“You know how she is, she’s independent,” Gaz quipped, rubbing a brow.
You were a flurry, piling food onto the plates before they grew cold. You were quick to place all their plates down and hurry back, grabbing a stack of cutlery and cups, the glass pile slightly tipped. John raised from his seat to assist you as you pulled back, offering him a gentle smile.
“Let me help, dove.”
“I’ve got it, I don’t need help,” you spoke quickly as you moved too fast, the glasses tipping over as they clattered against the floor, shards of crystal collecting at your feet as you hissed, the four men surrounding you quickly raising to their feet.
Your legs padded against the floor as you hurried to the kitchen to grab a dustpan from under the sink, Soap quickly in toe. It was overwhelming as they crowded around you, trying to grab the scoop from your fidgety hands before you snapped, “I don’t need your help, just eat your food.”
Your tone was harsh as they stilled, staring at you with concern. Your face felt hot, unshed tears welling in your eyes at the situation. The glass collected in the black box, flickers of shimmer dancing off the sharp shards as you grabbed your own plate, heading to your bedroom.
You weren’t sure where it came from, the need to never ask for help but it ate at you until your body was scolding with overworked heat. The night ticked by slowly as you cooped yourself up in the warmth of your sheets, only getting up to clean as you walked to the kitchen, no mess in sight.
“I hope you don’t mind that we cleaned up, figured you had done enough for us today,” Price’s voice was soft, a glide of comfort slipping from his tongue as he placed his hand’s on his hips.
“I could’ve done it.”
“I know, we all know. But we’re here too, love. It’s not fair for you to take on every load of responsibility. You deserve help. We’re not going anywhere, and we want to show you that we appreciate you too.”
The words settled in your chest as you stared at him, placing the plate in the sink as you offered him a polite glance, attempting to wrap around everything he was saying.
“Thank you,” you said, eyes low as you began to wash. The tickle of hair was felt around your waist, along with two arms as Kyle pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.
“We want to help you, love. You don’t need to go through anything alone, we’re here to support you the way you support us.”
You swallowed deeply.
“We don’t want to overwhelm you either, we just want our girl to feel the best she can,” Price spoke.
It was harder for you to talk about your feelings, your heart chained in between your rib cage, the need to ask for help always at the tip of your tongue but never able to leave, keeping you prisoner to your own despair. The boys left you for a little bit, asking you to join them in the living room when you were ready. There was a gentle pit of anxiety in your stomach as you huffed, ensuring everything had been done before you joined them.
It was a sweet sight to walk into. They were spread on the couch, reassuring smiles on their faces as Soap held his hands out towards the table, a chocolate cake decorated with the words ‘Thank you’ on it along with a bouquet of pink peonies.
You laughed, “When did you have time to get all this?”
“I’m quick,” Ghost beamed, tapping the spot between them as you huddled over.
“Thank you,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks. It was hard for you to comprehend you had people wanting to help you, and you knew they would never be able to understand what it was like for you, but they tried their hardest, and that was the greatest gift you could ask for.
“Can I eat some cake now?” Soap chorused as you laughed, rubbing the back of his head before nestling into Kyle.
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skyahri · 2 days
Text
Unplanned |Naruto Men X Reader| HC
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Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, and Kakashi Hatake
Summary: Pregnancy scenarios 'cause I can.
Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Bad words. All fluff.
- - - - -
Sasuke Uchiha
He isn't the kind of guy to outwardly dote on you.
He's never been good with words or physical touch, more so preferring quality time together. You sleep in the same bed, eat meals together when it's convenient, and lounge around together when time allows.
When you come home from a last minute doctor's appointment with some big news, none of that really changes.
He assures you that he's happy, that he loves you, and this is all wonderful, but that's about all you're going to get out the emotionally constipated man.
However, while words may not be his strong suit, actions certainly are.
It's become painfully obvious that you are never allowed to go anywhere alone ever again.
He's like a shadow, following you everywhere and anywhere you decide to go. It doesn't matter that you're just running to the market- he's coming with. Ino invited the girls over for a dinner party? Cool, he'll walk you there, hang around in the shadows outside, then walk you home.
When questioned, Sasuke only says that he doesn't trust other people. Already knowing how he is, you don't push him any further. (Not that he'd entertain you if you did.)
People notice pretty quickly. He's not subtle and it's not exactly common for the Uchiha to be so openly clingy.
You wanted to keep the pregnancy a secret for a little while longer. You knew that his status would make the whole thing bigger than you'd like and it was still so early, only about eight weeks in. But people were becoming more and more insistent with their questions.
"Seriously, did something happen? He's been watching you like a Hawk for the past month."
"It was cute at first, but now it's straight up creepy."
Sakura and Ino dramatically shiver at the notion. You laugh, imagining how unsettling this all must look from the outside.
"It's fine, I promise. He's just been a little overprotective since he found out I was pregnant."
They don't register it at first. They just nod in understanding and move to sip their tea. You can almost see it click in their heads before they slam down their cups and start freaking out.
"Wait, WHAT?"
Naruto Uzumaki
"Congratulations! Based on the ultrasound, I'd say you're about five weeks along. It's still early, but you can see a tiny sac right here-"
Your mind is going a thousand miles a minute, thinking of everything and nothing as the doctor points out the tiny, centimeter-long blob in the picture.
Naruto had been bugging you for the past three weeks about a smell. He swears it's nothing bad, just that Kurama is insisting that your scent has changed and- blah, blah, blah. You never could get any more information out of him, which just left you to eventually cave and visit the doctor. Animals have instincts for a reason and who were you to ignore them?
Turns out, that damn fox was right.
After a half-hour lecture on what you can and can't do anymore, you were handed a goodie bag of essentials and sent on your way.
You barely remember the walk home. Your mind was completely blank as it tried to process the news. It wasn't until Naruto was standing in front of you in the doorway to your home that you finally snapped out of the trance.
You stared up at him. His eyebrows were knit together and he was asking if everything was alright. He pulled everything out of your hands and not-so-gently set them on the floor.
"I'm pregnant."
His eyes blew wide and not even a second later he was smiling, pulling you into him and spinning you around. It's over just as quickly as it started. He's setting you back down on your feet and looking you over, mumbling a few hollow apologies for manhandling you. He takes a deep breath, that lopsided grin on his face never leaving.
"You're pregnant."
Just those two words have all the fog clearing from your head. Reality is forced onto you in an instant. In any other situation, it might have made you dizzy, but right now you couldn't be happier.
"I'm pregnant."
Shikamaru Nara
He really should've seen this coming.
Honestly, with how careless he is with protection, it's a wonder how you hadn't gotten pregnant sooner. A year and some change of not bothering with condoms and lazy, half-assed pullouts had finally come to bite him in the ass.
Although he knows this is all going to be horrifically bothersome, he can't find it in himself to be all that bothered. No, not when you're standing in front of him so nervously, little tears gathering on your waterline as you hold out a slip of paper for him to take.
He pulls you into a hug- a very tight, very intimate hug. One of his hands is on your lower back, pressing you into him, and the other is in your hair to cup the back of your head. He can feel the stress start to melt from your body as you relax into him, your arms moving to loosely hold him back.
"I'm sorry. I know this wasn't exactly planned..."
It definitely wasn't planned. He didn't like to think about things too hard. The only talk about the future he'd engaged in was a brief confirmation that you were both interested in pursuing each other exclusively and that neither were against marriage and kids.
But even though this was sudden and unprompted and definitely not what he was expecting when you asked to talk with him privately, he just couldn't find it in himself to be anything other than pleased. Sure, he would've liked to wait a few years and it preferably be after he'd properly proposed and married you, but none of that is deterring him.
He loved you. He didn't say it as often as he probably should, but that didn't make it any less true. You were easygoing and passive and fit into his life with no resistance. His friends liked you, possibly more than they did him. You liked to cook and he never had to worry about you causing trouble.
This was fine.
Not troublesome in the least.
"No, this is... good."
Kakashi Hatake
He was positive he was sterile. He'd have to be after all the injuries and trauma he's sustained, right? Four years and not a single scare, yet here you were, apparently three months pregnant, handing him a report from the OB's office.
He couldn't even form a sentence. He just sighed and sat back onto the couch with his eyes closed. It's only eight in the morning, it's too early for this, not that there'd ever be a great time.
"I knew you weren't going to be thrilled, but now I'm starting to get nervous. Can you please say something?"
He held his arm up and gestured for you to come towards him. When he could feel you brush against him, he grabbed your wrist and carefully yanked you onto his lap. You let out a relieved, albeit hesitant, chuckle as he slowly wrapped himself around you, his head finding solace in the crook of your neck.
The two of you stayed like that for a little while until he let out the loudest, most dramatic groan you'd ever heard leave his mouth, followed by a mumbled 'are you sure?', to which you rolled your eyes.
"Yes, I'm sure. Here, you can see for yourself."
You unfold the paper and pulled out a few pictures. He shifts you around so you're at a better angle before he takes them into his hands. It's obvious that he has no idea what he's looking at- just that the blob is already baby-shaped and very, very intimidating.
You point out some of the obvious things, the head and feet and such, before moving down to the very last photo at the bottom.
"And that little spot right there means that we're having a boy."
"I thought they couldn't tell the gender until later."
"It is later, Kashi. Fourteen weeks."
He lets you take the pictures from him so he can set his hand on your stomach. You'd mentioned gaining a little weight recently, which he honestly hadn't noticed, but now he's wondering how he could've missed it as he brushes his fingers over the slightest most obvious bump in your usually flat stomach.
He must've been zoned out for too long, because you're calling his name and setting your hand over his. He hums, a slight acknowledgment that he's heard you, but you know he's not actually listening.
He's too busy thinking about diapers and bottles and late nights and early mornings. How his son is going to be in the same class as his student's kids. How Gai is going to be a hundred times more annoying in the coming years.
But then a single thought completely derails his spiraling. He wonders what your baby will look like. If he'll be a morning person like you or like to take naps like him. If they'll accel in genjutsu or not, because while he certainly does, you most certainly don't.
He's spent time with Kurenai and Mirai. While raising a person definitely seemed difficult, he couldn't deny that Kurenai was happy. Actually, despite Asuma's untimely death, she's the happiest he'd ever seen her.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just... thinking about how annoying it'll be to tell everyone we're expecting."
"Seemed more like panicking to me."
"... shut up."
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RELAX
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PAIRING : stanford!sam winchester x fem!reader
SUMMARY : reader is stressed from studying for her upcoming final and sam helps her relax
WARNINGS : fluff. smut. oral (fem. receiving). fingering. rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie. strong language.
REQUESTED BY @s4wdvator : "I would love a Sam Winchester fic, I love him, I'm a total Sam girl who also loves Dean hejehjhehe. It would be a Stanford thing!Sam dating Fem!Reader, it could be smutt or fluff!!"
A/N : this was requested by a fellow mutual of mine (sorry it took so long.) hopefully it's similar to what you had in mind, if not, hope you enjoy it anyway! my requests are currently on hold since i have so many ideas of my own that i still need to write, but it'll be open in the future, i promise. this is my first sam oneshot ever, hope you guys enjoy it!
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For the past week, you went to class and then straight home. You had a huge test coming up that counted for half your grade. If you failed, you could kiss your scholarship goodbye. So, for the weekend, you decided to turn your distracting phone off so you could study. And it seemed to work... until it didn't.
The room had been eerily silent as you read. You were so concentrated on the material before you that a loud knock made you jump in freight. After a beat or two, your heart calms. With a groan, you push the chair away from the desk and walk to the door. Sam stands before you, a worried expression on his face.
"Y/N," He huffs. "Are you all right? I've been calling and texting you!"
You sigh, moving out of the doorway to let him in. "'Sorry. I've been studying."
He walks in, and you close the door behind him. "Your head's been buried in that book for a week. You need to take a break."
You sit on your bed, replying, "I can't. If I fail, I won't be able to afford to keep going here. Then how will we be together?"
"Hey," Sam sits beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Don't talk like that. You're the most intelligent girl I know. You'll pass the test."
You stand up, facing him as you rant. "But what if I don't? What if I have to leave and—"
"You're not going to leave." He interrupts your spiraling, knowing if he didn't stop it now, you wouldn't stop. "You're going to pass. Then you'll be stuck with me."
A giggle slips past your lips. You could always count on your boyfriend to lighten your mood. A smirk takes over his beautiful face, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.
Sam leans in closer and says, "Take a break. Let me help you relax."
You hesitate for a moment, afraid if you give in, you won't be able to study afterward. "I don't know..."
"I'll quiz you after." He entices.
"Mm... alright."
Sam gets up from the mattress and sheds his jacket. Tossing it aside, he tells you to lay on your belly. Without question, you do as he says. You stretch across your bed, head tilted towards the wall, eyes closed, as you slowly inhale. The bed dips as Sam climbs on before sitting on your ass. His large and magical hands grip your tense shoulders. You exhale in euphoria as his fingers dig into your muscles just right.
Tingling sensations rid the worry from your body. Your teeth sink into your lip, trying to suppress moans. Part of you didn't want to admit how much you needed this. His hands travel below your shoulder blades, toward the middle of your back. He works your back exactly how you need it, causing breathy groans to slip past your lips. It continues for a few minutes, and you're in another world.
Your brain becomes unaware of Sam sliding off and kneeling between your thighs. His hands begin to massage your behind, quickly drawing your attention. Part of you knew you should stop him, but the other didn't want to. Instead, you let his hands slither under your loose-fitted shorts and focus on your ass. His thumbs massage closer and closer to your lips, occasionally brushing against them.
It was all you could think about. You need him. You craved Sam's long and slender fingers inside you. The more he teased, the wetter your pussy got. You open your legs wider, giving him access like any other time.
A whimper falls from your mouth as your boyfriend gently rubs over your slick entrance. Wetness lubricates his thumbs, and before you beg him to, he slides them in. You gasped, but just as fast as they were in, they were out. He brings his fore and middle fingers to your entrance before gliding your slick towards your clit.
He rubs your bundle of nerves a few times, only making you wetter. The moans held back were now audible. His fingers slide back to your core, and without missing a beat, he plunges them in. Your body tenses as he dives deep, the tips of his long fingers hitting your cervix. A pained yet pleasurable moan echoes in the small room.
You were so thankful your roommate decided to go out. Sam slowly draws his fingers in and out. Once they're covered in your wetness, they disappear from your core. You open your eyes and look over your shoulder, missing his touch. The sight you saw somehow made you wetter. He had his fingers in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing around his digits, sucking them clean.
He slowly pulls them out, and you watch with admiration. Sam flips you on your back, granting you a better view. He pulls your underwear down, leaving you in the oversized shift you stole from him. He tosses them off the bed and gives you a mischievous smirk. His head dips between your thighs, and your hand quickly grabs his hair.
His mouth closes around your clit, sucking hard enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your walls clench around nothing, making you miss his fingers. As if he read your mind, he fills you with his slender digits. He steadily increases his speed until he reaches the pace that makes your toes curl and your back arch. Your grip on his hair tightens as his teeth graze and lightly bite your clit before soothing it with his tongue.
The pressure in your belly quickly builds, threatening to burst. You force your vision to focus right on your boyfriend. As if he sensed your stare, he gazes up at you, a smirk upon his lips. You throw your head back as he harshly sucks on your sensitive nub. His knuckles pound against your skin, leaving bruises where your pussy ends and your legs begin. It all became too much, and before you knew it, you came on his fingers.
Without missing a beat, Sam removes his fingers and drags his tongue across your soaked entrance, licking between each fold to get every last drop. Once he finishes, he sits up and unbuckles his belt. As relaxed as you feel, you wouldn't mind a good fucking. He unzips and pulls his pants to his knees. You dampen and bite your bottom lip as his member springs free.
There were several reasons why you fell in love with Sam, and his dick was one of them. You'd never objectify him, but if others understood what hid beneath his boxers, they'd try harder to steal him away. The first time you'd seen it, you wondered how he planned to fit his entire cock inside you. It took a few tries before you could finally take him all in, and man, was it worth it. You hated to admit it, but he had you dick-whipped.
"Like what you see?"
"Mhm. Now, shut up and fuck me," You demand before pulling his neck down and connecting your lips with his.
You could taste your sweet juice on his tongue. The thought of you tasting your cum on another man's lips repulsed you, but on Sam's, it only fed your lust. He presses his body against yours, his tip tracing your inner thigh. You moan into his mouth, practically begging for more. Sam breaks the kiss but remains close enough that his breath fans across your lips as he speaks.
"You ready for me?" You nod eagerly. He reaches between your legs, aligning his long member with your entrance. With eyes closed, you anticipate the slight but brief pain that'll come with his penetration. He holds down your hip with his left hand, feeling how tense you are before whispering, "Relax."
That's exactly what you did. Or at least tried to, anyway. You take a few deep breaths, willing your mind and heart rate to slow. Once Sam feels your body loosen, he pushes himself into your tight cunt. You whimper as his dick stretches your walls, both pleasure and pain fighting for dominance. He fits half of his appendage before pulling out. With every thrust, he goes deeper and deeper until his entire cock fits inside your small hole. Soon, the pleasure had won.
You were a moaning mess underneath your boyfriend. His hips moved skillfully, pushing you towards the edge. You clutch his shirt, hanging on for dear life as he rails into you at a hard and fast pace. The tip of his member brushes against your cervix when you wrap your legs around his torso, giving him a deeper angle. The sounds of skin clapping and your bed creaking to the rhythm of each thrust fill the quiet room.
He dips his head, finding comfort in your neck. Sam nibbles at your skin before sucking harshly, leaving a mark. You try arching your back, but his weight won't let you. Tears pool in your eyes as the pleasure becomes overwhelming. His hand snakes between your bodies, and his thumb rubs your sensitive clit. It was enough for your tears to spill over. You feel the familiar rush and warn Sam.
"Ohmygod, baby, I'mgonnacum," You mumble quickly.
"Let it go, sweetheart."
With his permission, you came undone. You scream as the waves wash over your body. Sam helps you ride out your orgasm, somehow going even harder. Your eyes roll back, and your mouth forms an 'O' as he murders your soaked pussy. It was pure luck you liked it hard and fast like he does.
You knew from experience your lips would be swollen after this, and hell if you didn't consider it a trophy. Suddenly, Sam's thrusts stopped, and you knew what that meant. He was cumming. And sure enough, spurts of hot cum shoot into you as he grunts into your ear. You moan as he fills you up, making you feel full in a different but great way.
He kisses his way to your mouth and shoves his tongue down your throat. You run your fingers through his hair as your body warms up for round 2. After your legs drop to the mattress and shake, you decide to wait a little longer before taking that rollercoaster ride again. Sam pulls away, so you open your eyes and see him gazing lovingly at you. A smile pulls at your lips to match his.
"Are you relaxed?"
You couldn't help but chuckle and answer, "I'm so relaxed."
"Good," He gives you a quick peck. "I should help you relax more often."
"Well, I'll be studying until next Thursday."
"Mm..." Sam traces his lips along your face, tickling your skin. "Sounds good to me."
He kisses your shoulder before pulling out of your dripping cunt and getting up from the bed. You prop yourself on one shoulder as you wonder what he was doing. He pulls on his boxers and walks toward your desk. Your eyebrows furrow as he picks up your textbook. And true to his word, he began quizzing you.
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Day 4: Supportive Boyfriends
and for my next (LATE, SO LATE) @bucktommypositivityweek contribution. KITTEN FIC.
(read on ao3)
**
The 118 doesn't have a baby box.
In fact there aren't any in the state of California at all. Buck looked it up, after Maddie's postpartum episode. When half his family was missing and there wasn't much he could do besides wait and... think about things.
So he thought about safe haven laws. Read up on the training seminars for first responders who want to be better equipped to deal with hand-offs. Read a bunch of other stuff he sort of wishes he hadn't. Spent the next week haunted by articles about abandoned children.
He considered talking to Bobby about it. Only partly to ask him if they should get a box for the firehouse. Partly because Buck wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing, and Bobby always seemed to have answers. But he never worked up the nerve to broach the subject.
And now. Bobby's not captain anymore, and Buck really can't imagine Gerrard giving a shit about any of this.
So, they don't have a box. But.
Well, this isn't a human baby. It's not like the same rules apply.
Buck has to wonder if wires got crossed somewhere, because. Someone left a kitten. Outside the firehouse.
Buck was just going to grab something—he can't remember what—from his Jeep, when he spotted an unlabelled cardboard box on the pavement, up against the side of the building. His first thought was bomb.
Until it meowed at him. A tiny, high-pitched peep of a meow.
Kind of scared the shit out of him, if he's being honest.
There's only one. All alone in the box. A poofy grey thing wriggling around half buried in an off-white towel. Like a very ambitious dust bunny with big round blue eyes and skinny legs. It wobbles slowly over a fold in the towel with all the effort of someone scaling a mountain.
Buck crouches next to the box, and pokes a finger inside.
"Hey, buddy," he murmurs, holding very still while the kitten inches towards his hand and squeaks. It's unclear whether there are teeth in that little maw. That means it's really young, right? Too young to be left alone for very long.
Shit, how is he going to explain this to Gerrard? He's still got, like, 12 hours left on his shift, but someone has to feed this thing. How long can kittens go without food?
Oh, it does have teeth. Really teeny ones. They're ineffectively poking his knuckle.
Buck fishes his phone out of his jacket—with the hand that isn't currently being drooled on—intending to go to Google for answers. How to figure out how old a kitten is. How often do kittens need to be fed. Do cats get separation anxiety. He has a million questions.
Only he doesn't pull up his browser. He calls Tommy.
It's a whim. Barely a seed of an idea. But when he unlocked his phone the first thing he saw was their text history (he'd been complaining about Gerrard off-and-on all morning, and Tommy had been sending random updates about all the chores he'd been getting done—his last message was a picture of a mop with no context) and he just thought... Tommy will know what to do. Not in so many words, more a feeling. Comfort and certainty, just from seeing Tommy's picture in a little bubble at the top of his screen.
"Evan?" Tommy answers almost immediately, and there's a subtle undercurrent of worry in his tone. Buck winces. Right, calling out of the blue while he's at work would look. Bad.
"I'm okay!" He says quickly, all in one breath. Then pauses. The kitten squints up at him, meowing again, long and loud. Its whole fluffy face scrunches with the effort.
"...What was that?"
"Uh. That would be why I called, actually."
Gerrard is less of an obstacle than Buck feared he'd be. Because he's holed up in his office doing paperwork when Buck sneaks in with the kitten, and Buck's decided he has no intention of letting him know the cat was ever here.
Tommy promised he'd come get her.
Buck didn't even really ask, and wasn't planning on asking. Didn't have any plan whatsoever, in fact. He just wanted to know if Tommy knew anything about taking care of kittens, and suddenly Tommy's voluntarily sacrificing the rest of his day off to scope out vets and pet supply stores and whatever else Buck's helpless little friend might need.
He hung up hours ago and his insides still feel warm and goopy about it. He can't stop thinking about the gentle fondness that softened Tommy's voice after Buck explained the situation. Buck would wrap himself up in it like a blanket if he could.
Tommy's getting so kissed when he shows up.
In the meantime, Buck's sitting upstairs, working his way through the dozen or so tabs he opened up after googling kitten care.
He thinks the one he found might be around three weeks old (ears not quite unfurled, can't sheathe claws yet, legs unsteady but mobile). And possibly a girl. She did not care for being picked up and turned over, and the indignant squirming made it difficult to tell what's going on down there. But he's almost certain he's right.
She was shrieking up a storm about it, and he was worried if he took any longer she'd alert Gerrard. (She didn't. She did, however, draw the attention of about half the firehouse.)
"You are disgustingly cute," Chimney coos, scratching under her chin with the tip of one finger. She's lifted her head as high as she can and her eyes are squinted happily. Buck can hear her purring from across the room. "Yes you are. Hen, can you get a picture of this?"
Hen pulls out her phone. "Sure... why?" She asks, leaning over his shoulder to snap a picture and eye him with mild suspicion.
"Jee. She'll wanna see when I tell her about my day."
Her expression softens to a smile. "I'll text it to you." She taps her screen a couple times. "Just had to make sure you weren't planning on calendar campaigning again."
Chimney grins. "Nah, my calendar days are behind me. The only person who gets shirtless pictures of me now is my wife."
"Gross," Buck says without conviction. He narrows his eyes at the site he's scrolling through, swiping away a Join Our Mailing List! popup. "You guys don't think she's cold do you? Are her ears warm? It's only, like, 70 today and we don't know how long she was out there."
Hen and Chim exchange glances, and then, disturbingly in sync, look from the cat to Buck. Chim gives her ear a perfunctory poke, which she does not appreciate as much as chin scritches, "She's fine, man."
Hen waves a hand at Buck when he opens his mouth again, "We're medical professionals. And in my medically professional opinion. She's fine."
"Okay, but—"
"Hey guys, look who stopped b—uhhh. Is that a cat?" Eddie slows to a stop at the top of the stairs, blinking at the kitten on the couch. "When did we get a cat?"
"Couple hours ago," Buck says, still frowning at Hen and Chimney. "Where have you been?"
"I found him polishing the engine."
Buck shoots out of his seat. "Tommy!"
He only half-hears Eddie muttering, "Favouritism," as he scuttles around the chair to meet Tommy halfway between the stairs and the sitting area. Tommy has just enough time to smile—and it warms Buck, like it always does, with a spark caught in his chest for safekeeping—and say hi before Buck's on him, palms clapped on either side of his face, smushing their lips together.
He makes a bit of a show of it, dramatically swooping in, because he knows the big smacking MWAH will make Tommy laugh, and he likes the way that feels rumbling against his chest.
Buck taps their noses together. "Hey," he says, savouring the mirth sparkling in Tommy's eyes for a second before kissing him again, properly this time.
His brain goes sort of fuzzy when Tommy's palm cups the back of his neck.
Someone in the distance wolf-whistles.
When they finally come up for air Tommy asks, "What was that for?" a little breathlessly, which is doing things to Buck.
"Mmn...y'know. For being you."
Tommy raises his eyebrows, kiss-reddened lips curling fondly. "Okay."
"Hey, Tommy. Good to see you," Chim calls in a very pointed way.
Right, public setting. Workplace. Friends watching. Buck exhales slowly, and tries to think about anything other than how much he wants to bite that bit of clavicle peeking out of the collar of Tommy's shirt. Like the fact that Tommy's hands are warm, and he's sort of rubbing his fingertips over the short stubbly bits of hair on the back of Buck's head, and Buck's lips are still tingling a little, and—no wait, not that either.
Tommy pulls away first, which is probably for the best, but also very sad. The corner of his mouth twitches like he can see Buck thinking it. He curls his index finger and gently taps Buck's chin with the knuckle before he turns to the group.
"Howie," he says, not even pretending to be contrite in the face of Chim's mock-judgement. "Hen."
"Tommy." Hen fails to contain her smirk.
Some time during all the kissing, Eddie moved over to the couch. He's sat next to the kitten, watching her attempt to groom her paw with all the grace of a toddler who's only a little bit sure they know how to hold a brush. She keeps starting and stopping at random intervals, sometimes licking the cushion beside her, sometimes sticking her tongue out at thin air.
She's so cute it makes Buck's chest hurt. It's a little much while he's still loopy from making out with his boyfriend.
Then Tommy goes and crouches next to the couch so he can get eye-level with the kitten while she sniffs his hand, talking to her all calm and soft with smile-lines crinkling his cheeks, and. Buck might need to lie down for a bit. Like, on top of Tommy, preferably.
The kitten seems to like him too, and he really can't blame her when she crawls up Tommy's sleeve to perch on his shoulder.
She looks so much smaller cuddled up on Tommy. He reaches up to steady her, and she's almost entirely obscured by his hand.
God, is it wrong that he's getting a little hot under the collar about that? He just looks so strong and competent and at the same time, like, gentle. Buck knows how it feels to be touched tenderly by those hands, and apparently just seeing it happen does not affect him any less. In fact it's only added dimensions to his desires.
"I should probably get going," Tommy says, bringing Buck back down to Earth with a resounding splat.
He opens his mouth to protest, then closes it. He's right. The last thing Buck wants is for Tommy to have another run-in with Gerrard, and they don't know how long the old bastard's gonna be occupied.
"Mhm, run while you still can," Chimney pipes up. "Before our dear old captain smells an opportunity to ruin someone's day."
"He does seem to have a sixth sense for that," Eddie adds sullenly. Buck makes a note to ask him what that was about. Later.
"I'll walk you out," Buck says, trying not to sound like a pouting child. He's fairly certain he fails, because Tommy laces their fingers together and gives his hand a comforting squeeze.
He says his goodbyes, the whole time being careful not to dislodge the kitten while she crawls across his shoulders.
Buck goes through the list of kitten care basics he memorized as they make their way to the parking lot. It's...more than he thought it was, honestly. It starts to feel overwhelming as he goes on, and on, and on. He's running out of time to get it all out, and he feels like it's just now sinking in his huge this responsibility that he's dumping in Tommy's lap is.
"You're sure you don't mind taking her?" The question bursts out of Buck before they make it to Tommy's car. "W-we didn't really, I mean. We talked about it over the phone, but..."
"Yeah, now that I've seen her she does seem like a real handful."
The kitten yawns, and curls up into a tiny grey ball in the crook of Tommy's neck.
Well. Alright.
"It's just, t-they need a lot of attention when they're that young, and I kinda just, just dropped this on you."
"Evan." Tommy gives him a look. "Are you worried that you baby-trapped me?"
Okay, when he puts it like that. Maybe a little bit. But also now he's having complicated yearning feelings that he really should not be having this early in the relationship.
Buck's pretty sure he looks like a deer in the headlights right now, because Tommy's doing his damnedest to pretend he isn't laughing at him.
He tugs Buck's hand, leading him the rest of the way to his car.
The backseat is full of cat stuff. Containers of milk-replacement powders, and a shiny plastic litter box, and toys, so many toys, baggies of fake mice and feathery things, just. So much stuff. Piles of it.
"I called up a friend who used to foster kittens. She had a lot of advice. And then I got a little carried away."
"I, uh. See that," Buck laughs breathlessly.
"Over the phone, you sounded like this meant a lot to you? And I think I got really attached to the idea of...this. Taking care of her for you. With you." He sounds hesitant, like he's trying not to say too much, and Buck can't stand it—
"I love you so much," he says in a rush.
"Well, good," Tommy purses his lips around a smile, eyes bright and crinkled at the corners. He reaches up to his shoulder, like he's absent-mindedly checking to see if the kitten's still there. "Wouldn't want her to grow up in a broken home."
Buck huffs a laugh.
"And I love you too."
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sidekick-hero · 2 days
Text
it isn’t over, it’s just begun
Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember (prompts: backseat | clothes on | soft and slow | bruise) and @softsteddieseptember (prompt: Road Trip). This is super late, I'm sorry.
The biggest thank you to @firefly-party for reading over this and helping me make sense of English grammar and tenses. UGH.
6k | rated: e | warnings: (consensual) blood drinking | tags: vampire!eddie, monsterfucker!steve, dry humping, Steve takes care of Eddie
Read on AO3
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“I’m dead, Harrington, not deaf! Haven’t I been through enough? Do you have to torture me with… with this? Crappy music from an even crappier movie? And here I thought we were friends!”
Eddie’s voice grew louder as he ranted, his hands flapping dramatically, his wide brown eyes sparkling under the streetlamps they passed. For someone technically dead, he was so alive—full of energy and life in every way that mattered. Even with his too-sharp teeth, translucent skin, and the absence of a pulse, he was still, well, Eddie.
Not that Eddie agreed.
That’s why they were here now, on this strange road trip to Washington D.C. to meet some friend of Owens who supposedly had a solution for him. How, Steve wasn’t sure. And if he was being honest, he didn’t entirely trust this friend—or Owens, for that matter. They’d been screwed over too many times, and Steve wasn’t about to risk Eddie’s… non-life.
Eddie seemed on edge too, fidgeting and talking too fast, too loud, confined in the tight space of Steve’s trusty BMW.
“If the movie’s so crappy, how do you know Take My Breath Away is in it, huh?” Steve countered, smirking, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
As expected, the question left Eddie sputtering, before he huffed and crossed his arms, pouting.
Steve took pity and turned the volume down, but not before belting out the chorus at the top of his lungs. He couldn’t help but enjoy the way Eddie looked at him, his attention fixed solely on Steve. If he were being honest, that’s all he’d been craving lately—Eddie’s gaze, his words, his touch.
Steve was down bad.
They’d been driving for six hours, and Steve could feel the toll it was taking on him. He still wasn’t sleeping well—nightmares keeping him awake more often than not. The only thing that brought him any real comfort was when Eddie came back from his nightly hunts. It should’ve felt strange that the only time Steve truly felt safe from the horrors of the Upside Down was when the one "monster" they hadn’t killed or sent back to the alternate dimension was taking a shower in his en suite bathroom before crawling into bed with him.
Not that Steve thought of Eddie as a monster—just because he looked a little different and needed blood to survive didn’t make him one.
The only one who saw Eddie that way was Eddie himself. It had taken weeks to convince him to let them anywhere near him, constantly reassuring him that they knew he wouldn’t hurt them, that they loved him.
Eddie had only agreed to stop hiding in the woods if Steve was there, nail bat in hand, ready to strike at the first sign of danger.
That’s why Eddie was living with him now. And that’s why Steve was the one driving him to Washington to meet this friend of Owens.
“You don’t look so hot, Stevie.”
“Geez, tell me how you really feel, Munson,” Steve shot back, only slightly annoyed. Eddie sounded more worried than anything.
Eddie raised his hands in mock surrender, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Relax, you always look hot, big boy. But right now? You look beat. Wanna take a break?”
A break didn’t sound bad at all, Steve thought. Just to rest his eyes for a bit.
“Not your worst idea,” he conceded, much to Eddie’s delight.
Eddie’s voice turned theatrical as he declared, “I only have good ideas, I’ll have you know.”
Steve’s reply came without thinking. “Sacrificing yourself to the bats wasn’t.” The weight of his words hit him the moment the silence in the car became deafening—not even the sound of Eddie’s breathing, which was more habit than necessity, broke the tension.
Shit.
“Eddie, I’m sorry—”
“It’s fine,” Eddie cut him off, his voice flat, the humor gone. “There’s a path over there, leading off the road. Take it. We can park at the edge of the woods. You can rest, and I’ll... hunt.”
Eddie’s whole demeanor screamed for him to drop it. As much as Steve hated the tense silence hanging between them, he didn’t know what to say to make it better. He was sorry for how his words had come out, but the truth was, he’d meant them. Part of him knew it wasn’t fair—he hated what Eddie had done, but he also knew that, in Eddie’s place, he would’ve done the exact same thing. Saving Dustin, buying them time. Sacrificing himself because what was his life compared to theirs, compared to the world?
If Steve was being honest with himself, he’d admit that it wasn’t Eddie he was truly angry at—it was himself. He should have been there. He should’ve been smarter, faster. Better. But he wasn’t. He let them fend for themselves, and this was the result.
The car swayed as it rumbled down the gravel path, pulling him back from his spiraling thoughts. What happened, happened. There was no changing it now. The only thing they could do was deal with the aftermath.
Steve parked the car in a secluded spot, hidden from the road to give them some privacy. The second the car stopped, Eddie swung the door open and disappeared into the woods without a word. Steve sat there, staring after him, regret settling like a weight in his chest.
With a heavy sigh, Steve pushed open his door and went around to grab his nail bat and a blanket from the trunk. He crawled into the backseat, balling up his jacket as a makeshift pillow. The bat went under the driver’s seat, just in case, and he pulled the blanket over himself. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, and with the weight of guilt in his stomach and his mind racing, he doubted he’d be able to fall asleep.
But sleep had other plans. It claimed him within seconds, and as usual, Eddie was the last thing on his mind before darkness wrapped around him like a lover.
He came back to himself slowly, like wading through thick molasses, his senses gradually returning one by one. First, there was the awareness inside his body. He was thirsty. Hungry, too. A dull headache throbbed at his temples, and his neck ached from the awkward position he’d slept in. Everything pointed to him having slept far longer than he’d intended.
Next came his hearing—dulled ever since Billy Hargrove had taken a plate to his head, but still somewhat functional. He could make out the distant hoot of an owl and, if he concentrated, the faint sound of cars speeding by on the nearby road. Then there was something else—a rustling sound, faint and close by. He had to strain to hear it, and might’ve missed it if not for how near it was.
Steve kept his eyes closed, everything feeling too heavy and far away. But now, cautiously, he cracked them open just enough to survey his surroundings without alerting any potential threats.
The car was dark; the sun had set a while ago, from the looks of it. At first glance, it seemed like he was alone, and worry crept in about Eddie. But then the rustling sound came again, and this time his eyes landed on its source. Someone was sitting in the passenger seat, trembling violently.
“Eds?” Steve’s voice came out scratchy from sleep. He swallowed and tried again, softer this time. “Are you alright?”
The figure in the front seat—who Steve hoped was Eddie, though who else could it be—shook its head but remained silent. As Steve blinked the sleep from his eyes and they adjusted to the darkness, more details came into focus. Eddie was hunched over, knees pulled tightly to his chest, his feet up on the upholstery. Normally, Steve would’ve complained, but right now all that mattered was making sure Eddie was okay.
“Eddie, please, talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”
He sat up and reached out to touch Eddie’s arm, but the moment his fingers grazed the fabric of Eddie’s jacket, Eddie recoiled, scrambling as far as the small space of the car would allow.
“Don’t,” Eddie rasped, his voice raw and jagged, almost unrecognizable.
Ignoring the warning, Steve inched closer, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “Eddie,” he repeated softly, using the name again because he remembered the first time they encountered this version of Eddie—feral, lost, barely recognizing them. Nancy had said to repeat his name often, to remind him of who he was. It became a habit Steve hadn’t been able to shake entirely.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me. Did something happen while you were hunting?” Steve’s stomach twisted at the thought. What if Eddie had hurt someone? Lost control to the instincts he barely understood? He should’ve been worried about whoever Eddie might’ve harmed—and he was, he was—but more than anything, he worried about what that guilt would do to Eddie. That it would push him to retreat, make him decide that he couldn’t be around people anymore. That he’d leave them.
Leave Steve.
At Steve’s question, Eddie finally looked up, and their eyes met. Steve’s heart lurched. Eddie's eyes were no longer the warm, familiar brown. They were red.
A whimper escaped Steve’s lips before he could stop it, and Eddie’s face—what little Steve could make out—twisted in what looked like pain. Steve realized, too late, that his involuntary reaction had struck at Eddie’s worst fear: that they saw him as the monster he believed himself to be.
“’M sorry, Eds,” Steve stammered, rushing to correct himself. “You just surprised me, that’s all. I’m not scared of you, I swear. I’m just worried for you. Let me help, please.”
With his back pressed against the glove compartment, cowering in the cramped footwell of the passenger seat, Eddie let out a dark, humorless laugh. “You have no idea what you’re asking, Steve. You should just take that trusty bat of yours and bash my head in. That’s the only way you can help.” His voice cracked, raw with desperation. “I… I don’t want to be a monster.”
“I’m not doing that, Eddie.” Steve’s voice was steady, even as his heart hammered in his chest. “You’re not a monster. You’re our friend.”
Eddie let out a bitter sigh, his hand fumbling for the car's overhead light. When it flicked on, Steve’s breath caught in his throat. Eddie looked more monstrous than ever—the sharpness of his teeth more pronounced, his skin drawn tight and pale, dark veins spidering beneath the surface. His red eyes glowed unnaturally in the dim light, and his trembling grew worse.
“I haven’t eaten in days,” Eddie confessed, his voice low and filled with shame. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to kill any of the animals out there. And tonight, when I finally got desperate enough to try… there were hunters in the woods.” He clenched his jaw, as if disgusted with himself. “I couldn’t risk it, Steve. I had to retreat before I hurt them. Before I would have... lost control.”
Steve’s heart twisted at the sight of Eddie—so vulnerable, yet fighting desperately to stay in control. It hurt to see the raw fear in his friend’s eyes, especially when there seemed to be nothing that Steve could do to make it better. There had to be something. Anything.
Eddie’s refusal to feed explained why the monstrous side of him was becoming more pronounced, more visible. The hunger must be unbearable by now, gnawing at him from the inside out. Yet, Eddie—the stubborn idiot—was willing to suffer rather than hurt another living thing. How anyone could see a monster in someone so kind, so selfless, was beyond Steve. He knew without a doubt that Eddie would starve himself to death before ever harming anyone.
But maybe it didn’t have to come to that. Not if Steve had anything to say about it.
“Maybe…” Steve began, choosing his words carefully, “you don’t have to control it.” At Eddie’s incredulous look, he quickly added, “I mean, what if you let yourself have blood—from someone willing to give it to you? You wouldn’t have to hurt anyone if it was, you know, consensual.”
Eddie blinked, his wide, reddish-brown eyes staring at Steve in disbelief.
“Could you repeat that? Because for a second there, it sounded like you were suggesting I should be drinking blood from a person.”
“It sounded that way because that’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” Steve said, keeping his tone calm. “Not just any person—someone who’d let you do it, of course.”
Eddie’s expression hardened as his voice rose, anger mixing with incredulity. “Are you out of your mind? You’re suggesting I just walk up to someone and be like, ‘Hey, can I get some consensual blood-sucking in? I can’t promise it won’t hurt, but you’d be doing me a real favor.’ Is that what you’re suggesting?”
The flare of anger in Eddie’s voice was almost a relief. It was familiar, a sign that somewhere under all that fear, the Eddie Steve knew was still there. Steve would take Eddie’s frustration over the emptiness he’d seen in him any day.
“Of course not,” Steve replied, his lips curling into a smile as Eddie’s shoulders sagged a little. “I’m suggesting you drink from me.”
You could’ve heard a pin drop in that moment, even with Steve’s less-than-perfect hearing. He was certain Eddie had even stopped breathing, not that he needed to. Eddie just stared at Steve like he’d suggested they strip naked, douse themselves in glitter, and run sparkling through the streets of Hawkins.
“Did you hear me? I. Want. You. To. Drink. From. Me,” Steve repeated, enunciating each word with deliberate conviction.
Eddie was already shaking his head before Steve had even finished speaking. “No! No, no, no. Absolutely not. You’re insane. I—Steve, please, no.”
It was like Eddie was going through the stages of grief—anger, denial, and bargaining. Robin had explained those to him once, and now Steve was watching them unfold before his eyes.
He knew he couldn’t force Eddie to do it, no matter how desperately he wanted to. The truth gnawed at him: a part of Steve didn’t just want Eddie to feel better; he wanted to be the one who made Eddie feel better. And wasn’t that a messed-up thing to feel?
“Please, man. You’re dying. I can see it, and you can’t go on like this much longer.”
The look of utter defeat was painful enough, but it was the resignation in Eddie’s eyes that twisted the knife deeper into Steve’s heart.
“I’m already dead, Steve,” Eddie said quietly. “I died that night, and I shouldn’t have come back. Not like this. I don’t want to live as a monster. If I don’t feed, maybe I can at least die as a human.”
His words were calm, as though Eddie had made peace with his fate, but the sadness lurking behind them hit Steve like a truck.
It made him furious.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re seriously gonna sit there, look me in the eye, and tell me it’d be better if you were dead?” Steve’s voice shook with raw emotion. “Newsflash, asshole—if you die, it would destroy the kids. Dustin worships your scrawny ass. Mike tries to grow his hair like yours. Max would play D&D just to have you DM the game. And it’s not just them. Nancy. Robin. Me. Did you ever think about that? We need you, Eddie. So don’t you dare say it’d be better if you died, because it wouldn’t. It wouldn’t!”
His chest heaved with the effort of getting the words out, his anger mingling with desperation. But as the weight of his outburst settled, Steve felt something shift—like a festering wound finally being drained. It left him raw, but somehow… cleaner.
For a second, he thought it had worked. Eddie moved toward him slowly, his hand outstretched. Steve noticed the darkened tips of Eddie’s fingers, the sharpness of his nails, more menacing than they’d been just hours ago. But Steve didn’t flinch. He stayed exactly where he was, letting Eddie come closer.
Eddie didn’t bite him. Instead, his fingertips grazed Steve’s cheek, soft as a summer breeze. “You’re crying?” Eddie’s voice was a disbelieving whisper, like he couldn’t fathom that the thought of losing him could bring Steve to tears.
“I don’t wanna lose you,” Steve whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. He didn’t care if Eddie could see everything he was feeling now—all the love and fear, laid bare for him to witness. If it meant Eddie would accept his help, if it meant Eddie would stay, then Steve would give him everything.
“You really mean it.” The wonder in Eddie’s voice made Steve smile, because it was so unmistakably Eddie.
“For someone so smart, you can be incredibly thick. Yes, I mean it. Now would you please get over yourself and bite me already? Jeez.”
Eddie’s startled laugh told Steve he’d said the right thing. “You do know I repeated senior year three times, right?”
“Yeah, and we both know that had nothing to do with you being dumb, dumbass.”
They both grinned at each other, the kind of goofy smiles that made Steve’s chest feel light. In that moment, all Steve wanted was to lean in and kiss Eddie—just close the gap and see what it felt like to finally do it.
But before he could act on that impulse, Eddie’s face suddenly twisted in pain.
“Eddie? Are you okay? What’s happening?” Steve’s voice rose with the anxiety building in his chest.
Through clenched teeth, Eddie managed, “I’m so hungry and you—” He stopped, squeezing his eyes shut.
“You what? Come on, man, I thought we were having a moment here. Talk to me!”
Eddie groaned, clearly struggling, and finally blurted out, “You smell so fucking good, okay? Happy now? You smell good enough to eat and it hurts.”
The weight of Eddie’s words hung in the small space between them, thick with tension. Steve had been through enough—beaten, tortured, fighting interdimensional monsters while babysitting a pack of troublemakers. He’d earned something good in his life, damn it. And if that “something good” was Eddie Munson biting him and drinking his blood to stay alive, then so be it. Steve Harrington would take it.
"Almost," Steve growled, his patience finally snapping. He framed Eddie’s face with his hands, pulling him forward into a kiss that had been months in the making. And Eddie went willingly—no, eagerly—letting Steve lick into his mouth with a muffled, desperate moan.
Without breaking the kiss, Steve leaned back, pulling Eddie with him into the back seat. Eddie followed without hesitation, lips still fused to Steve’s as if they couldn’t bear to part. Maybe it was Eddie’s newfound abilities, or maybe the kiss had awakened some hidden grace, but somehow, Eddie managed to climb into the back with him without so much as a stumble.
The heat between them was electric like a thunderstorm, a shiver of pure need running through Steve’s body.
As they sank onto the cool leather, Eddie’s weight pressed down on him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, something settled in Steve’s chest too—a deep sense of peace. He had craved this closeness for so long, the feeling of Eddie with him, on him.
“Eddie,” Steve moaned, finally pulling back to gasp for air. The moment their lips parted, though, he felt Eddie tense above him, realization dawning in his eyes. The danger of being so close to Steve, so close to his pulse, his heart pounding from desire, the blood rushing beneath his skin—it obviously hit Eddie like a freight train.
Steve knew if he didn’t act fast, Eddie would pull away, put distance between them when all Steve wanted was to be even closer. So he took the leap, pushing Eddie’s face toward his neck just as he wedged his thigh between Eddie’s legs.
“Please, baby,” Steve breathed, voice low and thick with want. “I need you to bite me. I want it. I want you.”
He didn’t care that he was begging—he only cared that Eddie wouldn’t leave him.
“Steve—” Eddie’s voice was strained, pained, and Steve felt the sharp graze of a fang against the sensitive skin of his neck.
Steve didn’t give him time to second-guess. He pressed his thigh upward, right against the growing bulge in Eddie’s jeans, and the movement knocked Eddie off balance. He fell forward, right into Steve’s arms, and Steve held him tight, refusing to let him pull away.
“I know you want to, so do it,” Steve urged, breath coming in shallow bursts. When Eddie still hesitated, Steve rocked his hips up and clawed at Eddie’s back, desperation leaking into his voice. “Do it!”
And then, finally—Eddie gave in. With a groan that was half-pain, half-relief, he sank his teeth into Steve’s neck.
It hurt.
But the pain wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst was the sucking—the sensation of blood being drawn from his veins. It felt foreign, unnatural, mixing with the burning throb of the open wound on his neck. The combination made his head spin, disorienting him in a way he hadn’t anticipated.
Yet somehow, despite—or maybe because of—the intensity of those sensations, Steve was painfully hard. His cock strained against his Levi’s, which already felt tight on a normal day. Now, they were almost unbearable, constricting, and he half-wondered if they’d cut off circulation to his legs soon.
It was confusing, how his body reacted to Eddie feeding on him, but what really sent shivers down his spine were the sounds Eddie was making. Quiet, needy moans muffled by Steve’s neck, soft hums of pleasure that Eddie probably wasn’t even aware of. And it wasn’t just that—Steve could feel Eddie mindlessly rutting against his thigh, the thick, hard length of him pressing into Steve like a promise.
Steve had never been this close to another guy’s hard-on before. The closest he’d come was watching Tommy H. jerk off beside him in his bedroom during a sleepover, Tommy’s eyes dark with something that had made Steve’s skin prickle. But this? This was so much better. It wasn’t just real—it was Eddie. And Steve had been halfway in love with him ever since that day when Eddie talked about Dustin, about how much the kid worshiped him, and how maybe Steve wasn’t such a bad guy after all.
The cramped space of the car was filled with the sound of their ragged breaths and soft moans, but they weren’t just Eddie’s anymore. Steve’s own sounds were growing louder by the second, the initial sting of pain transforming into a heady mix of heat and need. Each pull on his neck sent a pulse of pleasure straight down to his groin, making his cock twitch against the too-tight denim.
He had never felt anything like this before—this blend of pain and pleasure, of intimacy and raw need. And all he could think was how right it felt. How right Eddie felt.
Steve felt like he was drifting in a dream, the world around him soft and hazy, time slipping through his fingers like sand. He couldn’t tell how long it had been since Eddie’s teeth first pierced his skin—seconds, minutes, hours? Maybe even days. It was impossible to say, lost as he was in the slow, heated grind of their bodies. The friction between them pushed him higher and higher, though he wasn’t sure if it was the pleasure or the blood loss that had his head spinning. A distant part of his mind registered alarm at how weightless he felt, how far away everything seemed.
But Steve felt so good. Safe, even, wrapped in the arms of one of the most dangerous creatures he’d ever encountered.
It was Eddie who finally pulled back with a wet, slurping sound, his mouth leaving Steve’s neck as he gasped for breath. “Steve? Shit, Steve, come on, man, look at me.” Eddie’s cool hand cupped Steve’s cheek, shaking him gently, his fingers trembling as he turned Steve’s face to meet his gaze. When their eyes finally locked, Steve was relieved to see that the red had vanished entirely from Eddie’s eyes, replaced by the familiar warm brown that he had come to love.
“’ddie?” Steve slurred, his voice sounding weak, even to his own ears. He caught the worried look on Eddie’s face, the way his brows knit together and his lips pressed into a tight line, stained with drops of blood. My blood, Steve thought vaguely. Somehow, the idea didn’t bother him. Summoning the last bit of strength he had, Steve smiled and placed his hand over Eddie’s, still resting on his cheek. “’m fine. Promise.”
“You don’t look fine, Steve,” Eddie shot back, panic edging his voice. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Goddammit, why didn’t you stop me? Shit, I could’ve killed you.”
Eddie’s voice cracked with guilt, his words thick with fear and desperation. He sounded wrecked, not in the way the still-persistent throbbing in Steve’s groin suggested they both should be, but wrecked with the weight of what had just happened. But Steve didn’t care about that. He didn’t care that he was dizzy, or that his body felt light as a feather. What mattered was making Eddie understand that Steve wanted this. He wanted everything Eddie could give him—his hunger, his desire, his love. And in return, he wanted Eddie to take everything from him — his blood, his heart, hell, even his life. It was all Eddie’s for the taking.
A gasp slipped from Eddie’s lips, sharp and incredulous. “Eddie…” Steve’s voice was barely a whisper, his gaze soft and unwavering as he stared into Eddie’s wide, unblinking eyes.
“You don’t mean that,” Eddie whispered, his voice thick with disbelief.
Steve blinked, suddenly realizing he must have said it all out loud. Oops.
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, right? So far, Steve’s gut instincts had always guided him right, more or less. He was still alive, wasn’t he? That was good enough in his book even if the Robin in his head was rolling her eyes at him.
“I mean it,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “I know you don’t believe me, but I do. I want you. All of you—the good, the bad, the ugly.” Steve’s lips curled into a smirk, mischief lighting his eyes. “And if you haven’t noticed…” He rolled his hips deliberately, making sure Eddie could feel just how much he wanted him. “I was really enjoying myself.” To drive his point home, he shifted his thigh, pressing it against the unmistakable evidence of Eddie’s arousal. Above him, Eddie’s face contorted in pleasure, a low moan rumbling from deep in his chest.
Gotcha, Steve thought with a smug little grin.
“And I think you liked it, too,” Steve continued, his voice dipping lower. “So why don’t you stop worrying and get us both off, huh? I’m not sure I can right now, so it’s the least you could do to make it up to me, don’t you think?”
It was a bold move, pretending to be nonchalant when, in reality, Steve felt like he was hanging on the edge of a cliff, waiting to see if Eddie would catch him or let him fall. His heart pounded in his chest, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as he watched Eddie’s face—those deep, whiskey-brown eyes wide with surprise, disbelief, and something else that made Steve’s pulse race even faster.
Then, something happened that Steve did not see coming at all.
Eddie laughed.
Not just a chuckle, either, but a real, belly-deep laugh that shook his entire body. The anxiety that had been etched into his features for so long, the haunted look he’d worn since coming back from the dead, finally melted away. In its place, there was warmth, the corners of his eyes crinkling as laughter spilled from his lips, dimples flashing in a way that made Steve’s heart clench.
Eddie was so beautiful.
Eddie’s laughter faded, the echo of it lingering in the close confines of the car like the remnants of a shared secret. His gaze softened, the humor in his eyes shifting into something far more tender, far more vulnerable. “You’re unbelievable, Harrington,” he said, shaking his head, but this time his voice was filled with awe rather than disbelief. “Here you are, barely hanging on, and somehow you’re still making me feel flustered. What kind of guy are you?”
His fingers, cool but delicate, ghosted over Steve’s cheek, the sharpness of his nails a reminder of the monster Eddie thought he was. But the touch? That was all Eddie—the boy Steve had been falling for piece by piece. “You really want me to believe you’re okay with this? With me? After what I just did to you?”
Eddie’s voice wavered, his uncertainty spilling out despite the bravado. “You’re either the bravest or the dumbest guy I’ve ever met. Maybe both.”
Steve couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips, one that matched Eddie’s in its softness, despite the tension hanging between them. “I don’t hear you telling me I’m wrong, man. We’ve been talking about me—what I want. But what about you?” He paused, his voice gentle but probing. “What do you want, Eddie?”
Eddie’s reply came without hesitation. “You.”
Steve’s heart stuttered in his chest while the butterflies in his stomach went wild. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Then have me.”
Blessedly, this time, Eddie didn’t argue. He didn’t hesitate or question whether he deserved this—deserved Steve. He just did what Steve asked.
Pushing himself up on one arm, Eddie moved his other hand from Steve’s cheek, letting it trail down to palm him through his jeans. The earlier intensity had faded slightly during their conversation, but the moment Eddie’s hand found him, it was like lighting a match to gasoline. Heat surged through Steve, reigniting everything Eddie had stirred up.
Eddie's grin widened, his sharp teeth gleaming as he looked down at Steve, the dangerous undertone of it a sharp contrast to the mischievous, boyish excitement that always pushed Steve to keep up with his contagious energy. “I knew you’d be packing, big boy,” Eddie teased, his voice full of admiration and humor. “And all this for lil’ old me?” His fingers squeezed experimentally before running along the length of him, feeling the way Steve’s body responded, hardening further under his touch.
Steve, still a little lightheaded from the blood loss—made worse now that more of his blood seemed to be rushing south—blinked up at Eddie, his thoughts scrambled. All he could do was press his hips up, seeking more friction, his body moving on instinct even if his brain was lagging behind.
His hips began to grind against Eddie’s hand, slowly at first, trying to find a rhythm as Eddie held back, teasing, not giving him the relief he craved. Words failed him, but his body knew exactly what it wanted, each roll of his hips desperate and pleading.
“Didn’t anyone ever—fuck—tell you not to play with your food?” Steve groaned, hips stuttering as Eddie’s touch continued its slow, maddening exploration. It was risky bringing up the fact Eddie had just fed from him, but the elephant in the room wasn’t going anywhere, so why not address it now, while they were both caught up in the heat of the moment?
Eddie paused for just a moment, his eyes searching Steve’s with an unreadable expression. Then, he laughed softly, the sound low and rough, sending a shiver through Steve's entire body. "Oh, sweetheart," Eddie murmured, leaning closer, his lips brushing against Steve’s ear. "You have no idea how much I want to devour you."
Before Steve could even process Eddie’s words, Eddie shifted, settling between his thighs. The new position aligned their hard cocks perfectly, and they both gasped at the intense sensation. Eddie leaned down, nosing along Steve’s jaw until his breath ghosted over Steve’s ear. “Thank you, Stevie,” he whispered.
Eddie's hips rolled slowly, expressing his gratitude with each movement, though Steve wasn’t sure what Eddie was thanking him for. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the electric friction between them, the delicious drag of flesh against flesh. The weight of Eddie’s body should have made Steve feel trapped, but instead, it just amplified his need, igniting something primal within him. He was prey—and he loved it.
That thought made him cling even tighter, his legs wrapping around Eddie's waist to increase the friction. Eddie’s pace quickened, hips thrusting with more purpose, slow but insistent, like they were making love for real. Like Eddie was buried deep inside him. And suddenly, that’s all Steve wanted—Eddie inside him, closer, always closer. His teeth in Steve’s neck, his cock in his body. He needed to feel everything.
Steve’s fingers dug into Eddie’s back, nails scratching against the thin fabric of his shirt in a desperate attempt to mark him, to claim him the way Eddie had claimed Steve with his bite. Eddie didn’t complain—if anything, the scratches seemed to spur him on. His breath hitched, and he let out a string of grunts and moans, the sounds vibrating against Steve’s skin as Eddie whispered praises into his ear. He called Steve brave, kind, selfless, and so, so pretty.
Steve had experienced some incredible sex in his life, but nothing compared to this—dry-humping Eddie Munson in the backseat of his car, bodies pressed together, breathless, and needy.
A familiar tightness coiled in his groin, his whole body tensing as he teetered on the edge of release. But something was missing.
“Bite me,” Steve begged, his voice high and needy, almost desperate.
Eddie whimpered, his hips stuttering for just a moment. “Steve—”
Not willing to let Eddie pull away, Steve’s hand gripped his ass, urging him to keep moving, while his other hand pressed against Eddie’s neck, guiding him closer to his own neck. “I’m close, baby, so close. Please.”
As Eddie's teeth sank into his flesh once more, Steve's vision blurred, the rush of pleasure and pain so overwhelming it felt like his soul had left his body for a moment. He must’ve floated away for a bit, because when he came back to himself, he was no longer beneath Eddie but lying on top of him, his head resting on Eddie’s chest, while Eddie’s fingers gently combed through his hair in a soothing rhythm.
Steve must’ve made a sound, or maybe Eddie was attuned to the change in his breathing, because Eddie noticed right away.
“Hey, sweetheart, back with me?” Eddie’s voice was soft, warm, filled with affection.
“Mmm,” Steve hummed, feeling content and utterly spent. His limbs felt like they weighed a ton, his body heavy but blissfully sated. “Don’t wanna move.”
“Never?” Eddie chuckled, his laughter light and fond, and Steve could feel himself falling even deeper into this perfect moment, cocooned in the warmth of post-orgasmic bliss.
He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, his stomach growled loudly, breaking the quiet. Eddie snorted. “I think we have to move, darling. That sounded like a demogorgon.”
Steve groaned in protest, causing Eddie to give in with a soft smile. “Okay, fine. A few more minutes, but then we’ll get you something to eat and drink.” His hand drifted to Steve’s neck, thumb gently brushing over the already healing bite. “This took a lot out of you. Let me take care of you, okay? Like you did for me.”
Steve snuggled closer, the idea of being cared for by Eddie sounding better than anything. “Okay,” he mumbled.
Eddie pressed a lingering kiss to the top of his head, his voice barely a whisper. “Thank you, Stevie.”
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thatonebirdwrites · 2 days
Text
Cheating Death Part 4 - End
Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3
Epilogue
Finally, after weeks under intensive medical care, she was cleared to go home. Her recovery was far from over. Lena didn't look forward to the intense physical and occupational therapy in store, but at least she could rest in a more comfortable space. Have a bit more freedom.
Alex had insisted on taking her home, though Kara had walked with them until she received a Supergirl call. Lena understood now why Kara randomly took off, and with that understanding came a slow acceptance.
The door swung open at the press of her thumb against the keypad. Alex pushed her wheelchair, and shut the door with her foot behind them. They made it almost to the sofa when the shouts erupted around them.
"Surprise!"
Lena nearly fell out of her chair at the sudden noise. People leaped out from behind the sofa, tumbled out of the kitchen, and poured in from the hallway. They were all there: Kara, Brainy, Nia, J'onn, Kelly, and even Sam and Ruby.
"Welcome home!" Alex said with a grin, meaning she was in on this too.
Lena had no idea what to make of this. She'd never had a surprise... anything before in her life. "Um, thanks?"
Ruby nearly bounded into Lena's lap with her fervent hug. "I'm so glad you're home! We were so worried when we found out." She pulled back with a teary smile. "You gotta stop almost dying on us. Because we need you here, you're family, and Mom and I sort of just got here today, so all I have is this card." She handed it over and put her hands behind her back.
Lena opened it to the words, "We love you. Please try not to die again. Or we'll drag your sorry ass back to the world of the living." The asterisk after 'ass' had a note at the bottom that read, "Ruby was allowed this one curseword in honor of you."
Lena smiled and ran her fingers over the handwriting, some of it Ruby's and some Sam. Why they bothered, she didn't know, considering how she'd ghosted them. She took a deep breath to try to stop the urge to cry. "Thank you, Ruby. I love you both too."
Sam walked up behind her daughter and smiled, her eyes glistening. "Kid has a point." She leaned forward and gave her a half hug, planting a kiss on the side of her head. "I'm glad to see you up. We've been so worried."
She handed Lena what looked like a phone at first glance, until she saw the hinge. Opening it revealed a note that read: "Answer your phone! <3 xxxoo Sam." Under it was one of her guilty pleasures, a very specific hard candy only sold in Ireland.
"Sam..." Lena didn't know what to say. She wiped away tears, frustrated with herself. Since her near death and disablement, she'd become a weepy fool. "Thank you. I'll be better about staying in touch. I promise."
As the others moved forward, one at a time to greet her and welcome her home, Lena found herself smiling and dissolving into tears yet again. She wasn't used to this much care, and it still felt unreal. Like the shoe could drop at any moment, and yet it didn't.
Alex had continued to care for her, Kara and the others had continued to visit, and now that Lena was cleared to rest at home? Here they all were being the sappiest people she'd ever met.
"Make sure you kiss your beefcake," Nia whispered as she dropped a box of chocolates on Lena's lap. "She set this up, and I kind of have money on the line, so give a girl some help?"
Lena laughed, but she couldn't stop herself from sneaking a look at Kara who stood, swaying back and forth on her heels, as she waited impatiently. "Sure, Nia."
Alex gave her a backpack of all things. "Hey, don't give me that look," the director said with a cluck of her tongue. "Think of all the science-y things you can stuff in this thing and loop onto your wheelchair. Nothing will stop you now."
She lightly swatted Alex's arm. "Maybe if I was five, but really, thank you." At least the bag was black, so it matched the chair's coloration.
Kelly's gift was perhaps the most useful. A tool to grab things from afar. Lena immediately snapped it in Alex's direction, who danced out of reach with a scowl. "It's perfect," she said with a grin.
"I know you have a long recovery in store," Brainy said with a bow of his head. "But I will give you access to my favorite..." he glanced at Nia, "... toys as Nia calls them." He held out a small, palm-sized square. "Press your thumb and a holographic interface, encrypted for our communication and projects, will appear."
Lena couldn't resist. She pressed her thumb, and the interface swirled around her, filled with all sorts of delicious programs. "Holy shit, Brainy. Thank you. This is a delight." She pressed her thumb again, and it vanished.
J'onn stepped forward and bowed his head. "I wish to apologize for my actions in not bringing you in sooner. You've always been one of the best of us, and so I offer you the aid of my community. We have had many soldiers wounded in battle, and I will gladly aid in your recovery. So that you may find the mobility that fits your needs."
Lena studied the stoic man and thought back to something Kara had said to her. "You're a good swordfighter?" When he nodded, she smiled. "I was nearly an Olympic fencer. That's my goal. To recover enough to challenge you to a duel."
He bowed to her. "I accept."
Kara came last, of course. "Hey you." She knelt and wrapped Lena in a tight hug. Lena leaned her head against Kara's shoulder and breathed in her usual vanilla scent.
The pain hadn't full healed between them, but they were taking little steps. And with each one, Lena settled into the reality that Kara wasn't some omnipotent do-no-wrong-god, but a trauma-filled, messy alien who feared loss almost as much as Lena did.
That's one thing the past few weeks in Alex's medical ward taught her: perfection didn't exist, and that's okay. It was okay to be imperfect. She'd still be loved for who she was, even despite her sometimes bratty, petty nature.
Kara pulled back and kissed Lena's forehead. "I made this." She handed her a cylinder with lines and dots on all sides. "It's a puzzle box like what my father made. Give you something to do as you heal."
"Kara," she leaned her head against Kara's shoulder. "God, I love you so much," she whispered. "Thank you."
"I love you too." Kara carded her fingers through her hair. Lena gladly took the brief moment to recalibrate herself for more people interaction. Alex's words hovered in her head, "I need you to recognize your limits."
She took stock of her pain, her emotional bandwidth, and decided she could handle an hour. Then she'll ask to go to the bedroom. Plan in place, she pulled back from Kara with a smile.
She blinked away her tears. "Thanks to all of you. Now, I'd like to sit down on the sofa, if you don't mind?"
Kara chuckled and gently scooped Lena into a bridal carry. Her face flushed, likely as pink as her own. "As you wish, milady."
Alex groaned at that while Nia cackled.
Settled on the sofa, Lena leaned back into the cushions in relief. Fatigue plagued her still, and the pain simmered despite the pain meds. Still, she was much improved than a week ago. This ordeal had taught her that even small steps were worthy victories.
"So you ready for cake? Because all welcome home parties need cake." Kara practically hopped from foot to foot.
"Sure, Supergirl," Lena drawled. "Better fly me the best."
"Oh, you betcha. Straight from Belgium." Kara sounded quite proud of herself.
"Kara..." Alex pressed her palm against her face.
"Supergirl?" Sam echoed, her eyebrows raised.
"Wait a second," Kelly looked around, surprised. "Kara is Supergirl???"
Well, it was nice to know she wasn't the last one told after all.
***
Six months later
Lena gripped the bars, most of her weight on her arms. Her legs trembled beneath her, her right foot turned slightly to the left. Kara stood at the other end of the torture session with a grin. "Come on, Lena, you can do this."
"Oh shut up." Lena growled, but there was no heat in her words, only a deep affection. She carefully took a step, and her leg held. A tingling sizzled up her leg muscles, but she didn't crumple. Slowly, she lifted and plopped her other foot down. That one proved weaker than the other, so she leaned into the bars more.
"Remember to breathe." Her physical therapist stood behind her ready to catch if she fell.
She took a deep breath and managed another step. The rhythm of walking felt strange, like a foreign language she'd forgotten after months of using a wheelchair.
Since the attack, she'd kept a low profile. Sam returned as temporary CEO, and Alex proved to be just as protective of her as she was of Kara. Nia's article of the attack won the public's favor for Lena, which had been a nice, short boost for L-Corp.
So she slowly made her way down the bars, each step mores stable than the last. Her muscles screamed at the effort, but she pushed forward, determined.
Kara, as always, lived up to her promise and stayed at her side. Assisted her lab work. Accepted with grace the occasional microscope she threw at her head. Since becoming an independent writer and science consultant, Kara spent more and more time at her penthouse, and it had started to fill up with knickknacks, paintings by Kara, Kara's clothes randomly strewn over chairs, and a kitchen full of enough food for a hungry Kryptonian.
Lena knew she wasn't always the best partner. Sometimes Kara and her fought bitterly, but they'd learned to come together and talk it out. To share space for one another's feelings. To tentatively explore what being together really looked like.
All a step at a time.
Her trek reached the end of the bars, and there Kara stood, her arms out stretched.
"You did it! I told you so," Kara said with a delighted laugh.
Lena leaned forward and let herself fall into Kara's embrace. She looked up and smiled at her lovable dork. "I suppose I owe you that ice cream, my love," she said, wryly.
Kara nodded and brushed her nose against Lena's. "You sure do."
Lena placed her hand on Kara's cheek and kissed her lips. As she pulled back, she smiled at the goofy dazed expression Kara always wore when Lena sneaked a kiss.
"I'll make it two, for being such a good motivator." Behind her the physical therapist cleared her throat. Lena chuckled and for the first time in her life, she actually felt happy.
She'd cheated death yet again and won a girlfriend from it. Quite the bargain when all was said and done.
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zorrasucia · 1 day
Note
look at how well you take me. even though it's been so long.
for carmy x reader PLEASE
Hello Anon! 💜
Gladly! I wrote this as a loose sequel to this, though it's only relevant in that Reader is Chef Terry's goddaughter and they met back in Copenhagen. I hope you like it! 😊
Carmy burst through the door of your hiding spot, making you jump in shock.
"Fuck!" he cursed. "Sorry, thought this was empty."
He was about to leave without even looking at you and you reached for him.
"Carmy?" you held his wrist.
He finally saw your face. "Oh, my God!" he exclaimed and immediately enveloped you in a tight hug.
You hadn't seen each other in literal years but even so, his hold felt a little too intense and desperate.
"You okay?" you whispered.
"Um, I don't- I don't know," his voice broke and you could hear the tears he was holding back.
"It's okay, Carm," you squeezed him, putting more of your weight into the hug. "I'm right here."
You stayed there, running your fingers soothingly on his shoulders and the nape of his neck.
He sniffled. "You're here," he repeated. After a pause he mumbled: "Why are you here?"
"I came for the funeral," you replied quietly. You thought it would be obvious, given that you were both inside the cloakroom of Aunt Terry's restaurant but Carmy seemed very disoriented. "I couldn't miss it. It's Ever."
"It's Ever," Carmy hummed in agreement. "Uh, I meant what are you doing here in the cloakroom."
"I'm not made for networking," you sighed. "I needed a break. And, well, I don't smoke - so the cloakroom seemed a good idea."
"I'm trying to quit smoking. Maybe you're right and this is a good spot," he said gently.
He took a step back, a little more collected, even if his eyes still looked teary in the halflit room.
You smiled. "It's good to see you, Carm. I thought you were still in New York," you said and it felt a little too formal for the way you were holding each other just seconds ago.
"No, I've been, uh, been in Chicago the last few months... Two years now, shit..." it seemed like he was realizing it just as he was saying it.
"Is it nice? Being home?" you asked, tilting your head, studying his reaction.
"Uh, sure, yeah. I opened a restaurant that might close next week if we don't get a good review but, uh, you know," he said flatly.
You reached for his hand and rubbed his knuckles.
"Is that why you're upset?"
"Huh?" he furrowed his eyebrows.
"Just now? Like I get how it would be upsetting to attend a funeral when your own restaurant might-" you explained your reasoning.
"Oh! No, it's not-" he squeezed his eyes shut. "I, uh, ran into my asshole boss. From New York. He's- He messed me up real bad," he was still avoiding your gaze but he let you cup his face, comforting him. "So I, I confronted him and he, uh, he thinks he did me a favor. Like, shit, I knew he was a fucking psychopath but he doesn't even care. He doesn't-"
His voice broke again and you brought him back into your arms, his face tucked to the side of your neck, tears wetting your skin.
"It's okay. You're okay," you caressed his hair. "I'm right here, Carmy."
He nodded, unable to speak for a while. He squeezed you, his nose buried deep in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.
"Fuck, I've missed you."
"Missed you too," you soothed.
Slowly, his head turned and he started leaving kisses up the side of your neck, to your jaw, the side of your face, the corner of your mouth...
"This okay?" he asked, tracing the same sensual path on the other side of your neck.
"You're not thinking straight, Carm," you hummed, not making any effort to move away from his reach, carding your hands through his hair and bringing him closer instead. "You're angry. And sad."
It was so easy to forget that a few years had passed and this wasn't the Carmy you knew and cared for back in Copenhagen, not anymore.
"I'm tired of fucking thinking," he slurred, running his hands over your sides hungrily. "I want things to go quiet just for a while."
You melted, his hands breaking down whatever small resolve you had.
"Okay," you agreed, dragging him by the neck to press your lips against his.
Carmy gave you desperate kisses as he cornered you against the wall. He cupped your breasts over your dress, humming appreciatively at the low neckline.
"You look so fucking nice," he growled.
His left hand bunched up the side of your dress, trying to caress your leg. You giggled.
"Don't remember you being ticklish" he remarked, cocking his head.
"I'm not," you guided his right hand up your opposite thigh, to the high slit of your dress, giving him plenty of access without bunching up the dress.
"Fuck," Carmy groaned, his calloused hands quickly finding the edge of your lace panties. "Can I -?"
You nodded eagerly, taking his hand and looking at the new tattoos that adorned his skin.
"Please. I need your fingers," you whined.
Carmy didn't make you wait, pushing your underwear down your legs, caressing your pussy, already wet for him. He kissed your collarbone and the tops of your breasts while tracing lines between your folds, a low squelching sound coming from underneath your dress as he inserted two digits at once.
"Shit."
"My clit," you begged, angling your hips so his thumb pressed the exact spot.
He started moving, a quick and unforgiving rhythm making you melt in his arms, rolling your hips and moaning, holding tight to his shoulders to stand upright.
"Close?" he rasped.
"So fucking close."
"Will you let me fuck you against the wall after you cum?" he asked low.
It was like he flipped a switch and suddenly your pussy was fluttering around his fingers. He covered your mouth with his free hand, muffling your cries of pleasure.
"Fuck, Carmy," you panted, holding the wall for support while he unbuckled his belt.
"Shit," he stopped in his tracks and started going through the coats and jackets that were hanging on the opposite wall.
"Carm? What are you doing?"
"Just a sec," he mumbled. Once he found an informal leather jacket, he started going through its many pockets. "Come on, Richie," he whispered, then smiled in triumph as he took out a condom from the inside pocket.
"Should I ask?" you grinned, entertained watching Carmy unbutton his trousers, pump himself and roll the condom on.
"Better not," he stood in front of you, one of your arms rounded his shoulders, your free hand held his cock.
"You've always been a handful," you said - the flirtatious play on words taking you back years ago, to Copenhagen, and the first time he fucked you.
"Hmm," he closed his eyes in pleasure, completely at your mercy as you lined him up to your pussy.
He pushed lightly, an inch, then another. You whined at the stretch. "You okay?"
"It's good, so good," you managed, holding on to his shoulders, "just go slow."
Carmy nodded, the gentle movement of his hips like the swaying boat where you so often had shared a bed. You were letting out needy sounds and muffling them into your hand, as he got deeper and deeper. You encouraged him, bringing him closer by squeezing his ass, scratching at his pale skin until he was buried inside you to the hilt.
"Carm..."
He stayed still for a moment, kissing you tenderly.
"Need this," he mumbled against your lips. "Need you."
"Yeah?" you teased, circling your hips, making him moan. "How much?"
"A lot," he said, hips moving backwards slowly, his cock almost all the way out. Then, he drove back into you, quick, hard. You bit your lip to silence a high pitched moan. "A lot - a lot."
He grabbed your thighs, pressing you against the wall, lifting you.
"Fast and hard?" you suggested. You usually liked to take your time but fucking inside a closet - albeit a fancy one - asked for practicality and speed. And Carmy needed to blow off some steam.
He nodded, speechless as he started building a quick pace, driving into you like his life depended on it. You held him close, resorting to bite on the shoulder pad of his suit jacket to stay quiet.
"Wait," Carmy moved slightly, enough to press his forehead to yours and look down, hypnotized by the way his cock disappeared inside your pussy. Carmy's eyes widened, pupils blown and mouth half open. "Look at how well you take me. Even though it's been so long," he mumbled and you knew deep inside that it wasn't a line. He was truly dazed and euphoric that this was happening.
"Carm," you pleaded. "Let go for me, baby. I know you need it."
He squeezed his eyes shut. "Mhmm," he agreed, panting. "'m close."
You squeezed your pussy around his cock, watching with satisfaction as that simple effort made him lose control, rutting messily, soft grunts leaving his lips as he came hard.
"Shit," he cursed, his lips on the side of your face.
You exhaled, content, as he let you down, landing on one foot then the other. Your heels were on the floor, somewhere, lost while your legs shook around Carmy's waist. "Better? Stopped thinking for a bit?" you inquired a little cockily.
"Not sure where we are right now, to be honest," he drawled.
"Good."
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mvrkieboo · 11 hours
Text
Old Bloodhounds
P23 | i realised that day that she in fact had two
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The ride to the bar was kinda tense. Mark knew it required more than a few sips of alcohol to loosen Yuno up. It must've been a shock to the guy. Yuno honestly thought of Mark as a brother, so Yuno's heart went still when he saw Mark wearing matching cardigans with y/n—his estranged sister that abandoned their father and Yuno himself without a second thought, betraying her family just like how her mother did.
When they got to the bar, a few shots in, only then did Yuno begin to speak again.
“Be honest with me, Mark—did you really see her again just recently? At that pop up coffee spot she ran?” Yuno asked, and downed another shot of vodka to prepare himself hearing the answer.
“Yes, Jae. It hasn't been more than a week since I met her again. I'm sorry if this cardigan made you think I had been dating her behind your back, but I wouldn't do that to you.” Mark sighed, signaling the bartender to refill his glass.
“It wasn't just the matching cardigans, Mark. You arrived at the lobby together, and she was smiling. Even without the matching cardigans, it looked like you just had a date.” Yuno decided to take a break from the drinking, self aware of his own high tolerance with alcohol.
“She was smiling?” Mark stilled, turning his head to look at Yuno for added clarity.
Yuno, sensing how Mark was taken aback with his statement, looked back at him.
“She was. You didn't notice that?”
“I was busy staring at you—your text gave me a fucking heart attack, dude. Besides, what is she smiling for? We literally argued just right before entering the lobby.” Mark scrunched his eyebrows, messing with his hair as he wondered the reason behind your smile.
“Really? Was it an argument or a bicker? Jesus—this probably means you never noticed the crush she had on you back then. Or maybe she still does have a crush on you—maybe that's why she smiled when you weren't looking.” Yuno chuckled bitterly, reminded of a past when his sister was still his sister, and not the spoiled stepdaughter of a wealthy man she was now.
The same spoiled rich kid he was living with.
Mark froze completely, setting his glass down on the counter. It felt like all of his memory of you was getting warped inside his mind, despite the fact of how much he had refused to remind himself of the time when he had been close to you. Not ever since you moved away to Gangnam.
“Oh, shit. You actually never knew that, did you?” Yuno's smile dropped after he saw Mark going blank at the reveal.
Mark looked like he was having a hard time coming to terms with the information, but at one point, he picked up his drink, and downed the whole glass in one go. After he set the glass back down on the counter, Mark shook his head, realising that him agonising over this sudden reveal was pointless anyway.
“Well, it doesn't matter, whether she had a crush on me or not, and if she still does. She already has two men that keep her entertained now, so—I don't find it attractive to be the third.” Mark snorted, placing his elbows on the counter.
Now it was Yuno's turn to go blank. When a sudden beat of silence halted their conversation, with Yuno now deemed speechless, only then did Mark realise his mistake. Sure, you and Yuno were estranged siblings, and haven't spoken to each for 5 years—but that wouldn't completely erase the fact that you were still siblings bound by blood, so what sane older brother would be nonchalant at the fact that their younger sister is being entertained by two men at once? Especially when Yuno didn't even know who those men were.
“What?”
Mark winced at his friend's absolute dumbfounded tone. He should've put a tighter lid on that info. Mark dropped his head and hung it low, quietly cursing himself at his carelessness.
“Mark, you can't just say that and suddenly go quiet now!” Yuno hissed, smacking on the younger man's shoulder.
“I didn't mean to say that! Look, me and Y/N were working on our bureau task together the other day and finished it by the evening. Y/N asked me to keep her company while she waited for her ride, and I only agreed because it was getting dark.” Mark explained carefully, and Yuno was all ears.
“A Ford truck pulled up—and it was these two dudes who looked like they were in their early 30’s. They offered to drop me off as a thank you for accompanying her—it was obvious that these two dudes were really close with her and protective over her too. Y/N had forgotten to bring her access card that day, and one of them gave her their spare access card for her unit.
Me and Y/N share some mutual friends, and apparently, her friends have some suspicions that she might have a sugar daddy…I realised that day that she in fact had two.”
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
It was weird to call them ‘shifts’. They weren't shifts, but in fact tasks—but it sounded shady to refer to them as receiving a job for the night. So that's why you and the crew referred to them as ‘shifts’—because receiving a text that reads ‘hey, we have a job tonight’ made it sound like you were involved with Seoul’s underworld as either a hitman or a drug runner.
However, it didn't mean your ‘shifts’ were any less riskier than actual underworld work—because your ‘shifts’ entailed you interrupting an underworld worker's job. Helping relocating and hiding a victim of Seoul's ruthless loan sharks was playing with fire, and helping the police in tracking down those lowlifes was a sure way to have a bounty placed on your head.
And that's why every time you're out on those nightly shifts, you always focus. You can't afford to get distracted while on the job since the victims depend on your crew to keep them safe. The adrenaline of knowing that those bastards might catch up to you would have you hyper focused and alert.
So when the job was done for the night, you'd crash out, and that was exactly why you were sleeping like a log in the truck's backseat on the way back as Geonwoo drove. They made a quick detour though, ordering some fast food through a drive-thru on the way. It wasn't the healthiest choice for a really late dinner, but it was all they had at the moment.
Woojin was the one that carried you on his back for tonight, only because Geonwoo had been the driver for tonight's shift. When they got to your unit, Geonwoo placed the fast food orders on the counter and took them out while Woojin placed you on the couch and shook you to wake you up.
“Kid, you need to wake up. Have your dinner first.” Woojin spoke in an exhausted tone, and you only woke up because your stomach was beginning to hurt from your gastric condition.
You groggily walked to your kitchen counter and began to unwrap your food.
“What time is it?” You asked flatly, mouth still full of food and some even splattered on your counter as you spoke.
Geonwoo sighed and wiped your mess away with a tissue, “It's barely 1 a.m.”
“We left at 8 though.”
Woojin pinched your cheek when more food pieces splattered on the counter, “Stop talking while eating, dumbass. At least swallow it first.” He sighed shallowly, “Geonwoo stopped for a moment because he was getting leg cramps.”
“I see—”
Suddenly, all three of you heard your door unlocking. When you snapped your heads to see who it was—it turned out it was Yuno coming back from drinking with Mark.
Your older brother froze when he saw you eating with two older men he didn't recognise.
Were these the sugar daddies Mark talked about?
A beat of silence, then—
Geonwoo walked up to Yuno, and Woojin followed suit while you were left at the kitchen counter, your sleep-addled brain processing what was happening.
Geonwoo stretched out his hand with a tight smile on his face, “Nice to meet you, you must be Y/N’s new roommate. I'm Kim Geonwoo and he's Hong Woojin—we live right next to your unit.”
Yuno's reminded of what Mark said—
“You know, when I asked Y/N about them, she said they were her neighbours. That kinda put me off a bit because these guys were really closer to Y/N than I initially thought.”
Yuno shook Geonwoo's hand. Geonwoo's smile widened when he felt Yuno tight's grip.
“I'm not just her roommate—I’m her older brother. Nice to meet you two, my name's Jeong Yuno. The gamjajeon from this morning was delicious.”
Yuno's smile was anything but friendly.
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prev | masterlist | next
A/N : yuno thinks he's acting tough but all he's doing is making a fool out of himself like—
also, the normal smau format will be reinstated in the next update y'all, so say goodbye to all these words on your screen 👋🏻
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
• taglist • [CLOSED]
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