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#it's the intention that counts and the bringing of our thoughts to Her
bklynsboys · 2 months
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The Theory on Other Halves
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pairing: spencer reid x reader summary: "there's an old buddhist saying, i once read, that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making." genre: fluff word count: 1k author's notes: i wrote this because this particular line of spencer's is one of my absolute favorites! i think it's really beautiful how all of the people we love were meant to be in our lives since 500 years ago. and of course, as a fan of space & constellations, i had to insert it into this fic. enjoy <3
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THE AIR HUNG HEAVY WITH THE AFTERMATH OF A PARTICULARLY BRUTAL CASE—TYPICAL FOR A DAY IN THE BAU. Dust specks danced in the pale slivers of moonlight filtering through the blinds. Hotch decided it'd be best to give the team a few hours to rest in the motel before heading back home. If it were up to you, you'd be back in your bed as soon as humanly possible, but rooming with the resident genius, Dr. Spencer Reid—the object of your unspoken affections—is an opportunity you wouldn't miss.
For months, the two of you have shared a silent dance of exchanged glances and shared interests. Your colleagues, particularly the girls whom you confided in, seemed to think it was mutual. Now, you sat across from each other on motel beds, a comfortable silence blanketing the room. You traced a thoughtful finger along the rim of your empty coffee cup.
"You have a constellation," he said softly, breaking the stillness.
Your gaze flicked to Spencer, then down to your arm where his hand had landed. A faint scattering of moles dotted the inside of your forearm, resembling a modicum of stars. A small smile tugged at your lips.
"Looks like Ursa Major," he mused, tracing the pattern with his finger. "Though perhaps a little worse for wear, and without the usual bright light, of course."
You chuckled, mirroring his action on your arm. There, nestled just below your elbow, was a crescent moon birthmark, a surprise you always enjoyed revealing.
"Here's another one," you offered.
He turned his hand, examining the crescent with a childlike curiosity. " It's beautiful," he said simply.
"Did you know," Spencer added softly, his voice barely a murmur, "that the ancient Greek saw Ursa Major as a bear?"
You tilted your head, surprised by the random fact. " A bear?"
A smile played on his lip. " Apparently, the constellation's asterism resembled the animal to them. Makes you wonder what they saw in the night sky that we don't."
"Well, my mom had a different take on that," you began, a fond memory surfacing. " She used to say my moon and stars meant I'd meet a space nerd someday who'd love these marks, and we'd be orbiting each other, kind of like the Earth and the sun. She was into soulmates, you see, and space."
The conversation flowed easily, a map of your bodies sketched through shared stories. You pointed to a jagged scar on your knee, the fading memory of you running around and ending up with a scrape on your knee. He, in turn, showed you the faint line on his palm, a souvenir from a particularly enthusiastic attempt at a science experiment as a child.
Your fingers trailed down the faint scar near his hairline, so faint one wouldn't notice it if they weren't looking at Spencer's face intently. "What's this from?" you asked gently.
Spencer chuckled. " You know, how I have really bad coordination?" He sighed. " I was lost in a book, I ran straight into a doorpost. My mom called me 'Crash' after that."
You squeezed his hand gently, a silent understanding passing between you. You knew how much Spencer cherished his mom, especially with her health declining. Sharing stories about her felt like a tender offering of his vulnerability.
He returned the gesture, his thumb tracing the faint outline of a mango-shaped birthmark on your back. " My mom swears it's from all the mangoes she craved while pregnant," you said with a laugh, remembering your childhood debates about the science behind birthmarks.
As the night wore on, your exploration became a conversation without words. You ended up curled up on one bed. You ran your fingers over the slight dip in his lower back, a lingering ache from a wrestling match between an unsub gone wrong. He skimmed his thumb across the freckle dusting your shoulder, a map of sun-drenched summer days.
There was no urgency, no pressure. Just a quiet appreciation for the way your bodies, like your minds, fit together, like puzzle pieces worn from being fitted together—entangled from experiences, both big and small. In the faint intimacy, you found a deeper connection, a comfort that transcended beyond just physical.
Suddenly, Spencer spoke, his voice soft. " Maybe your mom was right, you know."
"Right about what?" You murmured, head tilting at the man's question.
His gaze met yours, a thoughtful crease furrowing his brow. " About finding your soulmate," he said hesitantly. " There's an old Buddhist saying, I once read, that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making."
A thoughtful hum escaped your lips. " That's beautiful, Spencer," you whispered.
He continued, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "Plato once wrote humans used to have four arms, four legs, and two faces, but Zeus split us in half as a punishment for our pride, and we were destined to walk the Earth searching for our other half."
A soft blush crept up your neck. You hadn't expected such a personal turn in the conversation.
"Plato," you murmured, surprised." The one who wasn't a big fan of the soulmate idea, right?"
Spencer's lips curved into a small smile.
"True," he admitted. "But even a brilliant mind like his couldn't deny the undeniable pull we sometimes feel towards certain people. Maybe the Greeks weren't so far off . Maybe the stars, the constellations, these little imperfections on our skin... Maybe they all tell us a story of where we belong."
His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. You found yourself captivated by the way the moonlight glinted in his eyes.
"So," you finally spoke, your voice barely a whisper, "are you saying we're destined to be wandering halves searching for the other?"
Spencer shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. "No," he said, his voice a smooth cadence. " Maybe... Maybe we already found each other."
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken sentiments. The air crackled with a tension that both terrified and exhilarated you. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat to the quiet reverberation of the night. Curled beside him, Spencer's arm draped casually across you, its weight a comforting presence, you drifted off to sleep.
A faint smile touched Spencer's lips as he listened to your soft snores. "Good night," he whispered into the darkness.
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months
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Dangerous Woman
Mob Boss!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Word Count: 6.9K
Summary: You're just a bartender until Natasha Romanoff walks into your life.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, alludes to sex, mentions of knives, mob life, mentions of vom*t
Authors notes: After making this moodboard I had this idea
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You loved the rhythm of the restaurant’s evening rush. The clinking of glasses, the murmur of conversations, the occasional burst of laughter—it was a symphony that you had grown to cherish. As the bartender at one of the city’s most upscale establishments, you prided yourself on knowing the regulars, remembering their favorite drinks, and always being ready with a warm smile and a listening ear.
Tonight, the restaurant was especially busy. The soft glow of chandeliers cast a golden light over the elegantly dressed patrons, and the rich scent of gourmet dishes filled the air. You moved with practiced ease behind the bar, mixing cocktails, pouring wine, and engaging in light banter with the guests.
Your colleagues often joked about your ability to handle even the most demanding customers with grace. It was a skill that had earned you a reputation among the clientele and the respect of your fellow staff. But beneath your composed exterior, you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was different. There was an electricity in the air, an anticipation that you couldn’t quite place.
As you polished a glass, your eyes drifted to the entrance just in time to see a striking woman step inside. She was tall, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that exuded sophistication and power. Her auburn hair was styled to perfection, and her sharp green eyes scanned the room with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
Natasha Romanoff, you realized with a start. The name was whispered in certain circles with a mix of reverence and fear. She was the heiress to the infamous Red Guardian’s empire, known for her ruthless efficiency and unyielding control over her domain. You had never expected to see her in person, let alone at your bar.
Natasha’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before she made her way to a secluded table where a nervous-looking man awaited her. As she sat down, you couldn’t help but feel her eyes on you every so often, a piercing gaze that made your pulse quicken.
You tried to focus on your work, but your mind kept drifting back to her. What could bring someone like Natasha Romanoff here? And why did it feel like she was watching you so intently?
Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft chime from the bar. A customer was waiting. You turned your attention back to your duties, pushing aside the questions that swirled in your mind.
Time seemed to blur as the evening wore on. The restaurant’s ambiance, the steady stream of orders, and the occasional glance toward Natasha’s table kept you occupied. But you couldn’t ignore the growing sense of anticipation, the feeling that something significant was about to happen.
It wasn’t long before Natasha rose from her table, her conversation with the client seemingly concluded. She walked with an air of purpose toward the bar, her eyes locking onto yours. The room seemed to hush as she approached, the weight of her presence palpable.
“Good evening,” she said, her voice smooth and commanding. “I’d like your highest-priced bottle of red wine.”
You nodded, trying to steady your nerves as you reached for the exclusive bottle kept in the back for such occasions. “Of course, ma’am,” you replied, setting the bottle and a glass in front of her. “This is our finest vintage.”
Natasha’s lips curled into a faint smile as she watched you pour. “You have a good eye for quality,” she remarked, taking the glass and swirling the wine before taking a sip. “What’s your name?”
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her gaze. “It’s Y/N”
“Y/N,” she repeated, as if testing how it felt on her tongue. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Natasha.”
The name sent a shiver down your spine. It confirmed what you had suspected, but there was a gentleness in her tone that caught you off guard. “Nice to meet you too, Natasha.”
She leaned closer, her eyes never leaving yours. “Tell me, Y/N, how does someone like you end up working in a place like this?”
You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “I enjoy meeting new people and making their nights a little brighter. Plus, I’ve always had a passion for mixing drinks.”
Natasha’s smile widened slightly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “A passion for mixing drinks and making people happy. That’s a rare combination.”
She took another sip of her wine, her gaze thoughtful. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other, Y/N.”
You nodded, unsure of what to say, but feeling a strange sense of anticipation. As Natasha returned to her table, you couldn’t shake the feeling that your life had just taken a turn, one that would lead you deeper into her world.
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And see her again you did. It didn't take long, in fact. As you walked back to your apartment after that fateful encounter, the night air was cool and quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the restaurant. The streets were mostly empty, save for the occasional pedestrian or car passing by. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, your thoughts lingering on the enigmatic woman who had unexpectedly captured your attention.
You were lost in your thoughts when you heard footsteps behind you, quickening in pace. Two men rounded the corner, their faces shadowed in the dim streetlights. They called out to you, their voices laced with a confidence you recognized all too well. Working as a bartender, you had grown accustomed to unwanted advances, even in the upscale environment of your workplace. The wealthy often believed their status and money could win you over, but they were always wrong.
One of the men stepped closer, his words slurred and suggestive. You stiffened, preparing yourself to handle the situation as you always did. But before you could speak, a familiar voice cut through the night.
"That's enough," Natasha's voice was cold and commanding, a dangerous edge to it that made the men freeze. She stepped out of the shadows, her presence immediately imposing.
The man who had been speaking turned to her, annoyance flickering in his eyes. "Listen, bitch, stay—" His words died in his throat as recognition dawned on his face. "The Red Guardian's daughter... The Black Widow..."
The name hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. The color drained from the men's faces as they realized just who they were dealing with. Without another word, they turned and bolted, disappearing into the night as quickly as they had appeared.
Natasha watched them go, her expression unreadable. Then, she turned to you, her gaze softening. She closed the distance between you with a few quick strides, her cool hands gently cupping your cheeks. The touch was unexpected, but strangely comforting. You could still smell the faint scent of the wine she had sipped earlier, mingling with the subtle notes of mint that came off her. The combination made your head spin, your heart racing in your chest.
"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice softer now, laced with concern. Her thumbs gently brushed against your skin, grounding you in the reality of the moment.
You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you."
Natasha’s eyes softened further, a small smile playing on her lips. "You shouldn’t have to deal with people like that," she murmured, her tone protective. "Let me walk you home."
It wasn’t a request; it was a gentle command, and you found yourself unable to refuse. There was something undeniably captivating about her, a mixture of strength and vulnerability that drew you in.
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Instead of Natasha walking you home, you found yourself in her sleek black car, the city lights fading behind you as she drove you out of the bustling downtown area. The ride was quiet, the air filled with an unspoken tension, your mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You tried to piece together the events that had led you here, but the answers eluded you. All you knew was that you were headed to Natasha Romanoff's home, and that fact alone left you both exhilarated and anxious.
The drive seemed to stretch on, each mile taking you further from the familiar streets you knew. Finally, the car slowed and turned onto a private driveway. You gazed out the window, your eyes widening as a grand mansion came into view, nestled amidst lush, manicured gardens. The imposing structure was a blend of modern and classic architecture, exuding an air of sophistication and power that mirrored Natasha herself.
As the car came to a stop, your breath hitched. The sheer size and elegance of the mansion made your jaw drop. It was a far cry from the modest apartment you called home. Natasha stepped out of the car and walked around to your side, opening the door for you with a small, reassuring smile. You stepped out, feeling the cool night air against your skin, and followed her up the grand steps to the entrance.
The door opened before you could reach for it, revealing a pair of neatly dressed maids who greeted Natasha with polite nods. They took her coat and scarf, their movements quick and efficient. Natasha slipped off her jacket, revealing the burgundy shirt she wore underneath. She loosened her tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her shirt, revealing a hint of her cleavage. The sight made your mouth and throat go dry, a sudden wave of heat rushing through you. The contrast between her commanding presence and the subtle glimpse of vulnerability left you speechless.
Natasha glanced over at you, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Welcome to my home," she said, her voice smooth and inviting. She gestured for you to follow her inside, her hand resting lightly on your lower back as she guided you through the grand foyer. The interior was just as impressive as the exterior—high ceilings, marble floors, and an array of tasteful art pieces adorning the walls. It was a place that spoke of wealth and status, yet felt oddly intimate.
As you walked further into the mansion, you noticed the staff bustling about, all moving with a quiet efficiency. It was clear that everything and everyone here existed to serve Natasha's needs and desires. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of nervousness, wondering how you had ended up in such a situation. It felt surreal, like you were living a dream—or perhaps a fantasy you hadn't even known you had.
Natasha led you into a cozy sitting room, its walls lined with bookshelves and soft, plush furniture. She motioned for you to sit on a comfortable sofa, then poured herself a glass of red wine from a decanter on a nearby table. She poured a second glass and handed it to you, her eyes never leaving yours. The gesture was both casual and intimate, a reminder of the connection that had sparked between you earlier in the evening.
As you took the glass, your fingers brushed against hers, sending a jolt of electricity through you. Natasha settled into an armchair across from you, her posture relaxed yet commanding. She took a sip of her wine, her gaze thoughtful.
"So," she began, her voice low and smooth. "How does it feel to be here, in my home?" There was a teasing glint in her eyes, but also a genuine curiosity.
You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "It's... breathtaking," you managed to say, your eyes flickering around the room before settling back on her. "I never expected to end up in a place like this. With you."
Natasha's lips curved into a small smile, and she leaned forward slightly, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "I didn't expect it either," she admitted, her voice softening. "But here we are."
There was a pause, a charged silence that hung in the air between you. You felt the weight of the moment, the unspoken possibilities that seemed to shimmer in the space between you. Natasha's presence was intoxicating, her allure undeniable. As she studied you, you couldn’t help but wonder what she saw in you, and what she had planned for the night.
Before either of you could continue the conversation, the two of you were interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open. A blonde woman with a thick Russian accent burst into the den, her presence as commanding as Natasha's. Her eyes were a piercing blue, and she carried herself with a confidence that suggested she was no stranger to dangerous situations.
"Sestra! I took care of To—" she began, her voice trailing off as she noticed you sitting there. A look of surprise crossed her face, quickly followed by suspicion. Her eyes narrowed, scanning you with a critical gaze before she turned her attention back to Natasha. Her expression softened slightly, but a hint of curiosity remained.
"Сестра, кто это?" the blonde asked, her voice low and questioning.
Natasha glanced at you briefly, her lips curving into a small, reassuring smile before she turned to address the woman. She responded in Russian, her tone calm and composed, "Это Y/N, одна из новых знакомых. Не волнуйся, всё под контролем." (This is Y/N, one of my new acquaintances. Don't worry, everything is under control.)
The blonde raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the situation. Her eyes flicked back to you, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. "Знакомых, да?" (Acquaintances, huh?) she replied, her tone teasing yet inquisitive. She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. "Интересно. Очень интересно." (Interesting. Very interesting.)
Natasha chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Успокойся, Елена. Мы просто общаемся." (Calm down, Yelena. We're just communicating.) She turned to you, switching to English with ease. "This is my sister, Yelena. She tends to be a bit... protective."
Yelena smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "A bit? That's an understatement." She pushed off the doorframe and approached, extending a hand toward you. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. I've heard... well, nothing about you," she joked, her tone lightening the atmosphere.
You shook her hand, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden shift in the room's dynamics. "Nice to meet you too, Yelena," you managed, trying to keep up with the rapid changes in conversation.
Yelena nodded, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned back to Natasha. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to let you know everything's taken care of." She paused, a more serious expression crossing her face. "But we should talk later."
Natasha nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Of course. We'll catch up in a bit."
With that, Yelena gave you one last curious glance before making her way out of the room, leaving you alone with Natasha once more. The interruption had brought a new energy into the space, a reminder of the world Natasha inhabited—a world that was clearly more complicated and dangerous than you had initially realized.
As the door closed behind Yelena, Natasha turned her attention back to you, her expression softening. "Sorry about that," she said with a small sigh. "My sister can be a bit... overbearing at times. But she's good at what she does." She took another sip of her wine, her eyes locking onto yours once more. "Now, where were we?"
"So that's your sister, which means she's the White Widow?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness. The realization hit you that you were in the presence of not just one but two of the most formidable figures in the city's underworld. Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable as she sipped her wine.
"Yes, she is," Natasha confirmed, her tone matter-of-fact. She set her glass down, leaning back in her chair with an air of casual authority. "But enough about that part of my life," she continued, her voice deepening and becoming gravelly. The sound sent a shiver through you, resonating with a magnetic pull that made your pulse quicken.
Natasha's eyes bore into yours, her gaze intent and focused. "I want to know more about you." Her words were not just a request but an invitation, laced with a curiosity that seemed to cut through the haze of the evening.
You felt the warmth of the wine spreading through your system, your head starting to swim. The rich, velvety taste lingered on your tongue, mingling with the intoxicating presence of the woman before you. The room felt warmer, the air heavier with unspoken tension.
You swallowed, trying to steady your thoughts. "There's not much to tell," you began, feeling a bit self-conscious under her intense scrutiny. "I'm just a bartender, working to make ends meet. I've been at the restaurant for a few years now, and I guess I've gotten good at reading people. But my life... it's pretty ordinary compared to yours."
Natasha's lips curled into a small smile, a soft chuckle escaping her. "Ordinary? I find that hard to believe," she murmured, her voice low and smooth. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her hands clasped together. "You must have seen and heard a lot from behind that bar. People's true selves often come out after a few drinks. It's a unique perspective."
Her words made you feel exposed, as if she could see right through you. The weight of her attention was both thrilling and terrifying. You took a deep breath, trying to focus on the moment. "I suppose you're right," you admitted. "It's interesting, observing people and their stories. But I never expected to find myself in a situation like this."
Natasha's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Life has a way of surprising us, doesn't it?" She reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. The touch was light, almost tender, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you. "You're intriguing, [Your Name]. There's more to you than meets the eye."
Her words hung in the air, filled with a promise that made your heart race. You could feel the pull between you, the magnetic connection that seemed to draw you closer despite the differences in your worlds. The room felt smaller, the space between you charged with an intensity that was impossible to ignore.
You blamed it on the alcohol when you leaned forward, your inhibitions slipping away with every sip of wine. The world around you blurred, leaving only Natasha's piercing green eyes and the intoxicating allure of her presence. It felt almost surreal, like a dream you never wanted to end.
Before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you and pressed your lips to hers. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. Natasha responded immediately, her lips warm and inviting against yours. The initial contact sent a thrill through your body, igniting a spark that quickly flared into a flame.
You also blamed the alcohol for the boldness with which she pulled you into her lap, her strong hands guiding you effortlessly. You settled onto her, straddling her thighs, your fingers tangling in her hair as the kiss deepened. Natasha's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as her lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own.
The taste of the wine lingered on her lips, mingling with the heady sensation of being so close to her. Her hands roamed over your back, firm yet gentle, sending shivers down your spine. You felt her tongue brush against your lips, seeking entrance, and you parted them willingly, allowing her to explore further. The kiss became more passionate, more desperate, as if both of you were trying to drown in each other.
Natasha's touch was intoxicating, and the way she held you made you feel wanted, desired. Your hands trailed down to the open collar of her shirt, your fingers brushing against the smooth skin of her chest. The contact drew a soft moan from her, a sound that only spurred you on.
You couldn't tell if it was the wine or the intensity of the moment, but everything felt heightened. The heat of her body against yours, the taste of her lips, the scent of her, mint—it all blended together, creating a heady mix that made your head spin. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you lost in the kiss.
For a moment, nothing else mattered. Not the grandeur of her mansion, not the complexity of her life, and certainly not the consequences of your actions. It was just you and Natasha, caught in a whirlwind of passion and desire.
Lost in the intoxicating heat of the moment, you barely noticed when Natasha effortlessly lifted you from her lap. Her strength surprised you, but there was something undeniably alluring about being in her arms, your bodies pressed close as she carried you with ease. Your lips left hers only to trail a series of kisses down her neck, tasting the warmth of her skin. You felt the rapid beat of her pulse under your lips, a testament to the shared urgency between you.
As she ascended the grand staircase, your mouth continued its exploration, planting soft kisses along the curve of her neck. You nipped at her skin, leaving a trail of marks in your wake. Natasha's breath hitched, a low growl escaping her throat, the sound sending a thrill through you. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the heady mix of desire that consumed you both.
Natasha carried you through the elegantly decorated hallways, the grandeur of her home barely registering in your haze. All you could focus on was the feel of her body against yours, the scent of mint making you dizzy, and the electric connection that pulsed between you.
The journey felt both like an eternity and a blink of an eye. You were vaguely aware of the doors she passed through, the soft click of them closing behind her. Finally, she carried you into a spacious bedroom, the décor understated yet luxurious, a testament to her refined taste. The bed, large and inviting, became the focal point of the room.
Natasha gently laid you down on the plush bed, her eyes dark with desire as she leaned over you. Her fingers brushed over the marks you'd left on her neck, a smirk playing on her lips. "Leaving your mark, are we?" she teased, her voice a low purr that sent a shiver down your spine.
You bit your lip, feeling a mix of exhilaration and anticipation. "Couldn't help myself," you replied, your voice breathless. Your fingers reached out, tracing the line of her jaw, feeling the smoothness of her skin. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, every touch and glance charged with an intensity that made your heart race.
Natasha's eyes softened, a warmth in them that belied her usual cool demeanor. She leaned down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, her hands sliding up your sides with a possessive urgency. The world outside ceased to exist as you lost yourselves in each other, a tangle of limbs and whispered breaths. The night stretched out before you, filled with the promise of more to come, a whirlwind of passion and discovery that neither of you were eager to escape.
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When you awoke the next morning, a dull throb echoed in your head, and the unfamiliar comfort of the sheets around you registered as too luxurious to be your own. You blinked groggily, only to wince as the bright light streaming through the windows made your vision pulse with pain. Quickly, you covered your eyes with your hand, slowly adjusting to the brightness. As you squinted them back open, the unfamiliar surroundings reminded you that you weren't home.
The events of the previous night came rushing back, a blend of passionate moments and stolen touches with Natasha. You looked around the room, taking in the elegant décor and the subtle scent of mint lingering in the air. It was a beautiful, well-appointed space, clearly reflecting her refined taste. As your eyes landed on the bedside table, you noticed a glass of water and a small bottle of medicine. Next to them lay a folded note. Curiosity piqued, you reached for the note and unfolded it, a small smile tugging at your lips as you read the familiar handwriting.
"I'm down the hall in my office. I wanted to let you sleep. Feel free to put on the clothes on the chair in the corner. I had someone go out and buy them for you this morning. I hope I got your sizes right. -Tasha"
The gesture was thoughtful, and it made your heart flutter. Natasha had clearly thought about your comfort, even after the whirlwind of the previous night. You set the note down and took the medicine with a grateful sip of water, hoping it would help ease the headache pounding in your skull. The cool liquid was refreshing, and you felt a little more awake as you placed the empty glass back on the table.
With a deep breath, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up. The room spun slightly, but you steadied yourself, making your way to the chair in the corner. Draped over it was a set of neatly folded clothes, clearly new. You ran your fingers over the fabric, appreciating the soft, high-quality material. Natasha had taken the time to ensure you would be comfortable and well-dressed, a gesture that felt both intimate and considerate.
You quickly changed into the clothes, finding that they fit perfectly, as if tailored just for you. As you dressed, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness about seeing Natasha again. The events of the night before felt like a dream, and you were eager to see what the day would bring. You smoothed down the clothes, took a deep breath, and prepared to step out of the room, ready to face whatever awaited you beyond the door.
You checked yourself out in the mirror with a smile, appreciating how well the outfit suited you. The red plaid pleated skirt paired with the tight black long-sleeved V-neck was a bit more daring than your usual style, but it felt exciting. The addition of the thick thigh-high stockings added a playful touch, making you feel both confident and alluring. Satisfied with your appearance, you left the room and headed out into the hallway.
Upon spotting one of the maids, you politely asked for directions to Natasha's office. She nodded and led you there quietly, stopping in front of a dark wooden door from which Natasha's voice could be heard. The maid gave you a small nod, and you took a deep breath before opening the door.
As you entered, Natasha's eyes immediately found you, and a warm smile spread across her face. She gestured for you to come closer, her gaze filled with an appreciative gleam. You quietly made your way over, and once you were within reach, Natasha's arm snaked around your waist, pulling you onto her lap. The unexpected closeness made your heart race, and you bit your lip to suppress any noises as she subtly squeezed your thighs like a stress ball. The smirk on her face told you she was enjoying every moment of your reaction.
Natasha continued her conversation on the phone, her tone authoritative and calm. You sat there, trying to maintain your composure as her hands roamed over you, seemingly innocent but filled with intent. When she finally hung up the phone, she turned her full attention to you, her eyes raking over your body with an appreciative gaze.
"You look amazing, darling," Natasha murmured, her hands wandering over your curves, taking in every detail of your outfit. Her touch was possessive, yet gentle, as if she were savoring the moment.
You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I'm assuming you picked this out for a reason? Is this how you like to dress your girls?" you asked, teasing her a bit.
Natasha's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she leaned back slightly, her hands still resting on your hips. "And boys," she added with a knowing grin. "What can I say? A cute little thing in a plaid skirt and tight shirt, all for me to see? It's a look I can't resist."
Her eyes wandered over you again, this time lingering on your chest. The intensity of her gaze made you feel a delightful mix of bashfulness and excitement. Natasha's admiration was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel flattered by her attention. It was clear she enjoyed the power dynamics at play, and you were more than willing to play along.
=====
As much as you were enjoying the attention from the city's most powerful and intimidating figure, a nagging doubt crept into your mind. It felt surreal, almost too good to be true. You couldn't shake the feeling that there had to be some sort of catch, something you were missing.
"Why me?" The question slipped out quietly, almost a whisper. The moment the words left your lips, you regretted it, feeling vulnerable and exposed. You kept your eyes down, afraid of what her reaction might be.
Natasha's hand gently lifted your chin, guiding your gaze to meet hers. Her expression wasn't harsh or intimidating, as you had feared. Instead, her eyes held a softness, a tenderness that caught you off guard. It was like looking into a tranquil meadow in Spring, calm and reassuring.
"Y/N, look at me," she repeated softly, her voice steady and sincere. "I took one look at you and knew I had to have you. If you had said no to anything, I would have left you alone. I would never make you do anything, понимать?" She asked, the last word rolling off her tongue in Russian, a language that sounded both beautiful and mysterious to your ears.
You weren't entirely sure what the word meant, but you repeated it back as best as you could, the unfamiliar syllables feeling awkward in your mouth. "Понимать," you echoed, sounding more like a child trying to mimic a word. Natasha's smile widened, clearly amused by your effort.
"It means 'understand,'" she explained, her voice warm and patient. You nodded, feeling a little more at ease.
"Capeesh," you replied with a playful smile, borrowing the phrase you knew from movies. Natasha's laugh rang out, a genuine, hearty sound that filled the room. It was infectious, and soon you found yourself laughing along with her, the tension from moments before melting away.
Natasha's laughter was a reminder that, despite her fearsome reputation, she was still human. In that moment, you felt a connection with her that went beyond the intimidating aura she carried. There was a genuine care in her words, a desire to reassure you and make you feel safe. It was a side of her that few probably ever got to see, and you felt privileged to witness it.
====
The following night, the bar was alive with energy, buzzing with the usual Friday night crowd. It was one of your busiest nights, and you thrived in the chaos, moving effortlessly behind the bar in a cropped top and booty shorts. The outfit, while bold, was a practical choice for the heat and energy of the night, and it certainly helped rake in tips from regulars and wealthy patrons alike. You danced and sang along with the music, mixing and pouring drinks with a flair that captivated everyone around you.
As the night went on, you caught sight of Natasha entering the bar. Her presence was impossible to miss; she exuded an aura of authority and elegance even in a crowded, lively place like this. Her eyes locked onto you, and for a moment, you felt a thrill of excitement. However, you quickly noticed a flicker of something darker in her gaze—jealousy, perhaps, or possessiveness.
Before you could fully process it, Natasha made her way through the crowd, her expression set and unreadable. She reached the bar and, without a second thought, grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the counter. The abruptness of her actions caught you off guard, and for a moment, the noise of the bar faded into the background.
You stood your ground, pulling your arm free from her grip. Natasha's eyes bore into yours, a mix of frustration and something else you couldn't quite place. But you didn't back down; this was your space, your job, and you weren't about to let anyone, not even her, dictate your actions here.
"This is my job," you said firmly, your voice cutting through the tension. "This pays my bills. I know what I'm doing, Tasha. Don't think I'm gonna change just because you've walked into my life."
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Natasha's expression softened slightly, her initial anger giving way to a more thoughtful look. She seemed to consider your words, her eyes searching yours for understanding.
After a beat, Natasha sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she nodded. "I understand," she finally said, her voice calmer. "I just... I don't want anyone else looking at you the way I do."
You couldn't help but smile at her admission, a warmth spreading through you. "They can look all they want," you replied with a playful wink. "But that doesn't mean they get to touch."
Natasha's lips curved into a small smile, a hint of relief in her eyes. "Fair enough," she conceded, her tone lightening. She leaned in, her voice low and intimate. "But don't be surprised if I get a little protective. I can't help it."
You chuckled, the tension between you easing. "As long as you remember that I can handle myself," you teased, leaning closer. "Besides, it's fun making them think they have a chance."
Natasha smirked, her hand brushing against your arm in a subtle, reassuring gesture. "You're something else, you know that?" she murmured, her eyes twinkling with a mix of admiration and affection.
With that, she released you, letting you return to your work. You felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing that you had stood your ground and asserted your independence. As you went back to serving drinks and entertaining the crowd, you caught Natasha watching you from the corner of your eye.
As the night began to wind down, the usual chaos of closing time set in. Patrons stumbled out, leaving behind a mix of laughter and lingering energy. You were busy behind the bar when a particularly drunk guy decided to try his luck, getting handsy in a way that made your skin crawl. Before Natasha could even react, your reflexes kicked in. With a swift motion, you pulled out a small knife from under the bar and slammed it down between the man's fingers. The blade glinted in the dim light, the threat unmistakable.
"Try that again, and you won't just be losing a finger," you warned, your voice flat and devoid of emotion. The man froze, his eyes widening in fear as he registered the seriousness of your tone. The reality of the situation must have hit him hard, as his face paled, and he turned his head to vomit beside him.
You rolled your eyes, exasperated by the mess. "Buck! Clean up, please!" you called out. Bucky, your coworker and the bar's bouncer, quickly stepped in, escorting the stumbling man out while one of the busboys hurried over to clean up the mess. You wiped down the counter, your expression cool and unbothered, as if this was just another night on the job.
Natasha, who had been observing the scene from a distance, made her way over, leaning against the bar with a smirk playing on her lips. You sauntered over, mirroring her posture as you leaned in close. Her eyes were darker than usual, stormy like a spring day brewing with tension and excitement.
"That was hot. I didn't think you were capable of something like that," Natasha's voice was husky, laced with admiration and a hint of surprise.
You chuckled softly, the sound low and confident. "I used to work in a dive bar before this. I learned how to defend myself. I don't even blink at it anymore," you replied, a lithe confidence in your voice. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against hers in a teasing kiss. "I've just gotta grab my tips and count the drawer, and then I am all yours, Tasha," you murmured, a smirk playing on your lips as you pulled away.
The effect you had on Natasha was palpable, and the realization sent a thrill through you. She, the mob boss and infamous Black Widow, was visibly affected by your confidence and composure. The power dynamic between you was complex, a thrilling dance of control and attraction that neither of you could resist. As you moved to finish your tasks, you couldn't help but glance back at her, catching the hungry look in her eyes. It was clear that the night was far from over, and you both knew it.
As the night drew to a close, you finished up your duties behind the bar, efficiently counting the drawer and gathering your tips. The room was clearing out, leaving behind the quiet hum of a few lingering patrons and the soft clinking of glasses being cleaned. Natasha waited patiently, her eyes never leaving you, an enigmatic smile on her lips. The air between you crackled with unspoken promises and an undeniable connection.
Once everything was settled, you slipped out from behind the bar and walked over to Natasha. Without a word, she extended her hand, and you took it, feeling the warmth of her touch. The two of you left the bar, stepping into the cool night air. The drive to her mansion was quiet, filled with a charged silence that spoke volumes. You could feel the anticipation building, both of you eager for what was to come.
Back at her luxurious home, the door barely closed behind you before Natasha's lips were on yours, a passionate kiss that left you breathless. The power she usually wielded so effortlessly seemed to dissipate as she melted into you, her hands gripping your hips with a mix of need and vulnerability. You pulled away gently, looking into her eyes with a commanding intensity that made her shiver.
"Let me take control tonight," you whispered, your voice steady and confident. Natasha nodded, her gaze softening with trust and submission. It was a rare sight, seeing the formidable Black Widow willing to relinquish control, and it filled you with a sense of responsibility and power. You guided her to the bedroom, your movements assured and deliberate.
The night unfolded with a new dynamic. Natasha, always in control, allowed herself to be vulnerable, letting you take the lead. It was an intimate, tender exchange, a dance where you set the rhythm, and she followed. The shift in power felt natural, something both of you needed. For Natasha, it was a chance to let go of the burdens of leadership and dominance, to simply feel and be taken care of. For you, it was an opportunity to assert yourself, to embrace the power and control you often kept in check.
Afterward, you lay together in the quiet of her bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the windows. You held Natasha in your arms, her head resting on your chest, her breathing steady and calm. It was a serene moment, a quiet intimacy that spoke of trust and understanding.
Natasha broke the silence, her voice soft and earnest. "Stay with me," she said, lifting her head to look at you. Her eyes searched yours, vulnerable and hopeful. "I want you to stay with me. Not just tonight, but... longer. Let me take care of you, treat you right. I'll make sure nothing ever happens to you."
Her words were filled with sincerity, and you could see the depth of her feelings in her gaze. It wasn't just a simple request; it was a promise, a commitment. Natasha, who always seemed so self-assured and in control, was offering you a piece of her heart, opening herself up in a way few ever got to see.
You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I'd like that," you replied, your voice warm and tender. "I want to stay with you, Natasha."
A smile spread across her lips, genuine and full of relief. She leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, a silent agreement sealed with affection. As you held her close, you both knew this was just the beginning of something deeper, something real. It was a new chapter, a chance to explore a relationship built on mutual respect, trust, and love.
In that quiet moment, wrapped in each other's arms, you both felt a sense of peace and fulfillment. Natasha had found someone she could trust to take control when needed, and you had found a place where you could be both strong and cherished. It was a perfect balance, a harmony that promised a future full of possibilities. As you drifted off to sleep, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.
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spencereidluver · 10 months
Text
A is for About Time
july 07, 2008
summary: You’re paired up with Spencer on a mostly physiological case… He’s impressed with how many of his obscure references you understand and how you’re able to carry on conversations with him unlike anyone else.
word count: 1.3k
warnings: details of a case: strangulation, blood writing
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“y/n and Reid, I need you to stay here at the station while the rest of us go search the area.” Hotch said, handing you and Spencer each a file. “There’s information about the case in here. The PD thinks we’re dealing with someone who is able to outsmart that of the normal man. We need both of your heads on this. Got it?”
You and Spencer both nodded. You were smart, no denying it, but you know he knows everything you know times two.
You’ve only been in the BAU six months, but you’d only need to know Spencer two minutes to know just how intelligent he is. You don’t quite understand why Hotch wants you to stay back on this case with him, but who are you to deny the man.
You and Spencer take the Manila folders and make your ways to the conference room. He does a little jog to catch up with you. “You know, I’ve never had anyone else stay back with me on cases like these.” He says as he slows his step to match yours.
“Yeah, we’ll maybe you’ve never had anyone quite on your level Dr. Reid.” you joke as you pull the glass door open. There’s a bulletin board with photos from the case. You see Spencer grimace at them out of your peripheral. No matter how many cases you go on, this is one thing that will never be easy for anyone in this job.
Spencer sprawls out his folder on the half-circle-shaped wooden table in the center of the small office. The first image is a photo from the crime scene. It’s a white brick wall with blood writing, it reads:
“in this moment, she was mine, mine, fair, perfectly pure and good”
“It’s a poem.” He says. “Porphyria’s Lover.”
You interrupt him, “a mid 1800’s poem written by Robert Browning.”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“A poem in which a beautiful woman’s lover strangles her with her own hair? Yeah I’ve heard of it.”
He flips through a few more pages in the folder. They’re all just copies of what’s on the bulletin. You’re not too sure why you were each given folders containing the same pictures, but I guess consistency is key in this job.
“I never took you as an 1800s poem freak, y/n.” He says with a smile that you can’t quite tell the intention behind.
“Maybe you’re not as many levels ahead of me as you thought, Dr. Reid.”
_____
It’s only day two of the case, but between stupid jokes and bonding over old literature, there’s only one thing you cannot seem to pinpoint the reasoning for. And probably the only way you’ll be able to directly connect to the unsub.
He’s working off a dating app. He searches for women who meet his physical criteria, then stalks them until he’s able to pounce. Smart guy. Very smart guy.
“The one thing I just cannot understand is why if the poem he’s working off of is so keen on blonde hair, why have only half of our victims been blondes?” Spencer says, reading through a print-out of the original poem.
“Maybe the women with brown hair were just more available?” You say, not sure if you believe it.
Spencer takes a sip of his coffee. “No, a man like this would want blondes. He’s working of the exact motive of the poem.”
“And he must have a lot of time with his victims to be able to strangle them with their hair.”
You and Spencer spend hours reading over the poem and investigating that photos. Hotch comes back to the station to bring photos from yet another crime scene. Another blonde. If anything, that takes you further from figuring him out, messing up the blonde-brown-blonde-brown victim order.
“There’s no way he’s picking these victims at random. He’d have to spend far too long watching them to know their work schedule to be able to get into their apartments.” Hotch says. “I need you guys to further analyze the poem. It could have the key and hopefully we can find him before he strikes again.”
You and Spencer spend a further hour and a half looking over and annotating the poem. You’re both about to give up on the poem when you notice something: the rhyme scheme.
“A-B-A-B-B,” you think outloud.
“What?” Spencer is confused.
“The rhyme scheme, Spencer. It’s A-B-A-B-B. Auburn-Blonde-Auburn-Blonde-Blonde. That has to be it!”
“So he’ll go back to the beginning. He’s looking for his next victim with auburn hair, just like Julia Dempsey and Katie Flanagan. Nice catch, y/n. We’ve gotta call Hotch.”
He pulls out his phone and dials the eight digits quickly. He fills in Hotch on the info you find as you email over to Garcia. It’s only a matter of time before Morgan and Hotch move in on the man, Garcia finding him from a simple categorical search of dating profile preferences.
_____
You’re sat on the jet next to Spencer on your way home. You’re going on about old literature and artifacts pertaining to them. No one else understands a word either of you are saying, but they’re rather in awe of how the two of you are able to bounce off each other and carry on about, what to them, is utter nonsense.
It’s late. Early. Well, both. 2:47 AM. You’re leaned with your elbow on the table and your head in your hand looking at Spencer as he recites an old poem from memory. His voice is calm and warm. JJ and Emily are asleep in the booths next to you, Hotch minding his own in the back, and Rossi and Morgan make small talk a little closer to the front.
“y/n?” You hear your name being whispered.
You hum in response, opening your eyes to see a wide-eyed Spencer looking at you.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He says.
“It’s okay. I’m kinda glad you did, my neck would be sore when we land.”
“We’re still three hours from Virginia. Think you can make it that long?”
“Hell no, I’m exhausted.” You cross your arms on the table, laying your head in them as you try to get comfortable.
“That position may feel better on your neck, but it’ll do a number on your back in record time.”
“Well, Spencer, there’s only so much room to work with on this jet.”
“I can move so you can lay in the seat if you’d like. But that could also hurt your neck considering you’ll be lying flat and have no incline.”
“Well then why don’t you tell me the most comfortable position and let me sleep in peace.”
“Studies show the best position for sleeping without a pillow is leaning against a wall or something of an upright nature. But there are no walls to lean up against, so you’re pretty much out of luck there y/n.”
He shifts in his seat, reaching for the blanket behind him. He tosses it at you and settles back down. He sips from his coffee. No wonder he’s not going to sleep, he drinks coffee 15 out of the 24 hours in a day.
You scoot a bit closer to him, wrapping the blanket around yourself. You tip your head forward, groaning. Tiredness overcomes you more than it already has, making it near impossible to even keep your eyes open.
“Hey, Spence…” You look up at him. His head tilts down to meet your gaze, flattening his lips in form of a response. “Can I…” You let your sentence fade out, pushing yourself closer to him.
He softens his voice. “Hmm?”
Before he can even finish his hum your head has slumped on his shoulder and you’re already falling unconscious on him. You feel him reach his arm around you- pulling the blanket up- you assume. He does that, but his arm never leaves. His head flops gently on top of yours, his one unruly waft of hair falling over his face. You could stay like this forever.
“It’s about time those two realize how similar they are.” You hear Rossi’s gravely voice say.
And just like that, you’re asleep, in what is probably the most comfortable you’ve ever been in your life.
_____
next chapter: b is for Boy Genius
other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist
view the masterlist in a calendar version! 
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a/n: hiii! i really hope you enjoyed the first chapter! chapter 2 will be released tomorrow! sorry if this one was a little boring, i promise the next chapter is more interesting. i'm just trying to set up the story a little before we get into it!
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Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!
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reidmarieprentiss · 27 days
Text
Bedroom Eyes
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: fluff
Warnings/Includes: suggestive content (?)
Word count: 463
main masterlist
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As the early morning sun peeked through the blinds of the breakroom, you poured yourself a much-needed cup of coffee, feeling the warmth spread through your hands. Spencer was already there, his own mug steaming gently as he leaned against the counter.
“No, I love Derek, you know I love him,” you sighed, stirring your coffee absent-mindedly. “I just really hope this is the real deal, you know? Vanessa seems so good for him. She brings out a side of him that’s... well, it's just different.”
Spencer nodded, understanding your concern. He took a cautious sip of his coffee, his eyes thoughtful. “Yeah, Derek deserves someone who truly appreciates him. Vanessa might just be that person.”
Just as you were about to agree, Spencer’s expression shifted. His eyes darted toward the door, and he subtly started to blow on his coffee more fervently than necessary—a clear signal he was trying to divert your attention. You caught on a beat too late, tilting your head in confusion at his sudden intense gaze.
“Why are you giving me bedroom eyes right now? We’re at work, Spencer, and I’m talking!” you exclaimed, half-amused and half-perplexed.
Before Spencer could clarify his intentions, Derek’s laughter boomed from the doorway. “That’s the face Pretty Boy makes in bed?” he chuckled, striding into the room with a grin plastered across his face. Spencer nearly choked on his coffee, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink.
"Definitely not, Derek," Spencer managed, his voice edged with a hint of embarrassment as he quickly glanced towards you, attempting to telegraph an apology through his expressive eyes. His discomfort was palpable, and despite the light-hearted mood, he seemed genuinely flustered by the teasing.
Derek clapped Spencer on the shoulder, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Don’t scare her with that intense profiler stare, Reid. Save that for the bad guys, not our morning coffee chats.”
You laughed, shaking your head at Derek’s unrelenting ability to lighten the mood. “Honestly, between your jokes and Spencer’s cryptic glances, I wonder how I manage to drink my coffee peacefully any day.”
Spencer, finally recovering, managed a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I just saw Derek approaching and thought I should... warn you,” he admitted.
Derek raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Warn her or save her from your ‘intense’ company?” he teased, making air quotes.
Rolling your eyes playfully, you sipped your coffee. “I can handle myself, thank you very much. But let’s all agree that Vanessa is great for you, Derek, and leave Spencer’s bedroom expressions out of this.”
Derek laughed heartily, nodding in agreement. “Fair enough! Vanessa is amazing, and I’m lucky to have her. As for you, Reid,” he glanced back at Spencer with a mock stern look, “keep those bedroom eyes on lockdown.”
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tag list <333 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite 
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kookslastbutton · 4 months
Text
Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter two
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✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?
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pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader
genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love
word count: 6.1k+
warnings: This chapter in particular is written from Yoongi's perspective, oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of body shaming by Hybe executive, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, light fighting between members (literally crack), Namjoon has a little crush, Oc being a total boss at work bc she is amazing at her job, and cute & meaningful Yoon and OC interactions that make them finally start bonding (a little flirty too, hehe) 😉
now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets
a/n: CHAPTR TWO IS HERE! GOD...the slow burn exists outside the series too with me not updating for two months. I'm sorry guys but TYSM for your patience! I'm VERY excited to release this chapter bc I think Yoon & Oc are super cute, hehe. Okay anyway, this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!
Series Masterlist | next chapter >>
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Yoongi stands with his hands placed loosely on his hip, chest heaving as he attempts to catch his breath. The seven of them had been practicing choreography for their new RUN BTS song nonstop when Jimin called for a much-needed, fifteen-minute break. There’s a part of him that’s thanking the younger for it and another that’s wishing he hadn’t, as every moment left alone with his thoughts is spent decoding his last encounter with you at the cafeteria.
Why had you made such a beeline for the exit the moment he was waved over by his member?
You also completely ignored his attempts to greet you on your way out. He only stopped by the cafeteria to slip an orange in his pocket before returning to his studio. He didn’t mean to intrude or incite that you had to leave with his sudden presence.
Taehyung assured him that you merely left to tend to work matters, which he’d typically sum as hyper-fixation with one’s work as he’s prone to do the same, but this felt different at its core. Your behavior seemed more intentional than that. The last thing he wants to do is misread the whole situation, but he must’ve done or said something to cause your uneasiness.
“Hyung, how did the album meeting go this morning?” A clear voice comes from Yoongi's left as his fellow band member, Namjoon, strides next to him, water bottle clenched in his fist. Like himself, large droplets of sweat dots around the man’s brow. The minor interruption shakes Yoongi out of his slightly dazed state.
“Went well.” He takes a big swish of his own water before screwing the cap back on. “We reviewed everything in three hours and the album looks better than I anticipated. There are a couple of promotional strategies that still need finalizing, but I’m pretty confident about it overall.”
“That’s great, man. __-nim’s been doing good work with TXT for the last few years, so she’s definitely suited for the job. I thought about requesting her help to promote Indigo but the timing of it all didn’t work.” Namjoon’s voice drops an octave at the last part, as if remorseful for more than a missed professional opportunity.
“Ah, maybe your next album hyung,” Jimin suddenly chimes in, slapping the taller man on the shoulder from the side. “I have a feeling you and __-nim would work well together. Think about it, you’re both natural born leaders and you’re smart too. I bet __ -nim has as high of an IQ as you.”
Namjoon’s cheeks flush with the faintest tint of rose as Jimin flashes a knowingly cheeky grin. Yoongi, of course, witnesses the entire exchange, the slightest part of him feeling uprooted by the thought of his band member and new marketing manager suddenly hitting it off. He decides not to comment on the matter, choosing to remain in ignorance instead. This is all speculation, right?
Now that they’re all on the subject of his album though, it gets him thinking that maybe he’s been too narrow viewed regarding the reason for your off putting behavior at lunch.
D-Day’s release has become a consuming priority lately, with everyone involved worked to the bone. Aside from himself, you’ve been bearing the brunt of it. He’s appreciative of course, considering the album holds a deep sense of meaning to him, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to be perfect. A little pushback during the first proposal is natural, yet he did get more resistant toward ideas during this morning’s meeting than anticipated. Perhaps some of his nitpicking was unnecessary, adding to your already heavy load.
Yoongi’s head feels worse the longer he entertains the possibility. He doesn’t want to make the first time working together a complete whirlwind, especially this early. A strong, healthy partnership starts with trust, safety, and mutual respect. The same philosophy can be applied to relationships of varying natures. That reminds him—since when did Taehyung and you become so close? He’s been ruminating over it all afternoon, like a jigsaw puzzle he can’t solve.
It’s odd how little he knows.
“I heard someone mention __-nim over here. I want in.” A small grumble leaves Yoongi’s lips as Jungkook pushes next to him, displeased by how tiny his space bubble has gotten due to the huddle his members have formed around him. Just why the hell is everyone so interested in his new marketing director? That's what he wants to know.
“Can you introduce me to her sometime hyung?" Jungkook pleads. "I’m thinking about releasing an album in the next year and it’d be great if you could hook us up…yknow?”
Oh, Yoongi knows. He knows exactly what this young buck is insinuating, but it isn’t mating season yet and even if it were he will do no such thing as to “hook them up”. Besides, his conscience tells him that you wouldn't be interested in the company of a younger man anyway—not that your dating life is any of his business or anything.
“Get in line Jungkookie, behind Namjoon. He needs her for his album first.” Jimin squeezes down on Namjoon’s muscular shoulders with both hands, shaking him just enough to hype him up. His hands are removed seconds later when he’s told to knock it off.
“That’s enough about this, okay? I’m pretty sure Yoongi-hyung is the only one who actually needs __-nim right now because, in case you dumbasses have forgotten, D-Day is set to release in April,” Namjoon scolds the two with a commanding tone. Jungkook, per usual, remains persistent in his original request and keeps his full attention on Yoongi.
“Anyway hyung, as I was saying, I know your album takes priority so I’m in no hurry to meet her. I can be pretty patient as you know-“
“Heh, that’s a lie.”
“Shove it Jimin, no one’s talking to you.” Jungkook’s eyebrows scrunch together as Jimin snorts helplessly next to Namjoon.
“You shove it Kook,” Jimin counters. “And stop trying to date __-nim! Find your own woman!”
“I’m not trying to date her! She's my noona for gods sake! Do you think I’m oblivious to how the public reacts to idols dating? Also, __-nim is a Hybe employee, not an idol. I can only imagine the type of scandal the media would spin it as.”
“Right, we all know you actually just want to take her to your bed instead,” Jimin interrupts for the umpteenth time. “Our handsome leader, on the other hand, is interested in her professional abilities. We can learn a lot from him.”
“Why are you always trying to start a fight with me Jimin? Is it because I can take you, now that I've been building up more muscle?” Jungkook’s accusations earn him nothing more than a sea of eye-rolls until Jimin lunges himself towards him, puffing out his chest the best he can to size him up.
Namjoon rubs his face with a hand, a clear visual display of his exhaustion. He’s been moderating these stupid squabbles for nine years now. “Alright very mature, biggest boy band in the world and this is what it’s come to? Amazing, congrats to everyone for winning the award for most-”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Seokjin interjects, effortlessly shouting over everyone while waving his hands. “My brothers…why are we fighting over here like a couple of peacocks? We are all beautiful in our own, individual ways. Mine, for example, is my handsome face.”
“For the love of god hyung, we’re trying to settle something. Go take your inspirational pep talk elsewhere!” Jungkook bends his knees, swooping down to throw Jimin over his shoulder but he misses when the man starts tickling him ruthlessly.
“St-ah-stop it Jimin!"
“You stop it, you frickin’ brat! Trying to take advantage of our hyungs for your own selfish gain.” Jimin then slaps Jungkook on the ass which does not go unappreciated as Hoseok cackles from the other side of the room. Up until this point, he’s been scrolling on his phone, completely unbothered by the chaos. As Hoseok nears the action, Jungkook delivers a swift kick to Jimin’s rear end.
“Ow, what the fuck Kook?!” Jimin tries soothing the sting by massaging it with his hands. “You little prick!”
“Oh come on, I barely hit you. Gaining sympathy points won’t help this time, plus I see you trying to hide a grin. You think this shit is funny. You’re sick you know that?”
Jimin makes a move to return the kick to his youngest member but ends up hitting a far taller, and leaner subject instead. Taehyung, who just returned from the bathroom, throws a hand over his abdomen and grunts from the sudden impact.
“What is—shit Jimin that really hurt!” Taehyung’s baritone voice echoes off the walls as he winces from the pain. He takes a few deep breaths, then viciously eyes the two brawlers followed by the rest of the room. “What the hell is going on? I heard you all talking about __-nim from the hallway. Yoongi-hyung here is trying to kick off his album and tour, which we are supposed to be celebrating over drinks this Friday, but here you are arguing with each other and who has the biggest dick. Well, you can all put it away because as __-nim’s best friend, and number one wingman, only I’m allowed to set her up with someone and it won’t be with any of you! Sorry hyung…” he looks at Namjoon who appears to have brushed the comment off.
As soon as Taehyung ceases his mini-speech, eery silence sets in. Hoseok is the first to dare say a word.
“Uh, so what’s this about being her best friend Tae?”
“Yeah, I had no idea either.” Jimin quirks his head to the side, awaiting the details.
“Same,” Namjoon adds in a short breath.
“What happened to us, man?” Jungkook pouts at Taehyung, a total 180 from moments ago when he was in an unsolicited sparring match with Jimin. “You used to share everything with me. Now you’re holding out on me. Since when did you and __-nim start hanging out?”
Yoongi’s ears perk up for the first time since all the commotion began, curious to hear Taehyung’s response. He only recently discovered the blossoming friendship hours ago and even then, it was a brief inside look.
“I didn’t think to mention it but yeah, we started talking since her first day at Hybe. I bumped into her on the way into work, early morning for both of us. I expected her to be a bit on the reserved side, considering she was a new hire, but she was quite friendly. The more we talked, the more I felt like I knew her as if a childhood best friend I’d reconnected with.” Pausing, he wets his lips before continuing. “We share a lot of our meals together now, like our lunches during the weekday. Her food tastes amazing by the way. I think she missed her calling as a chef but it’s more than food— it’s a love language, a labor of love.”
“Wow, you two sure are connected,” Hoseok speaks first again, seeing the rest of his members working to process the new bit of info.
“Platonically, yes.”
“This’ll be good for Yoongi-hyung and his album then! No bad blood exists here!” Hoseok shifts his gaze between Taehyung and Yoongi, pleased with the outcome. The older of the two remains speechless, yet it’s far from a dazed expression. Yoongi is instead deep in thought, the wheels turning in his head.
So maybe it’s true that birds of a feather flock together, he hums to himself. The two of you seem to be social butterflies with a vase full of commonalities. He, on the other hand, prefers his solitude. That’s not to say he’s a hermit or anything though. Hybe hosts a company-wide New Year’s Eve party every single year and he’s made his best effort to attend them all. He mainly mingles with his members, but he still makes sure to small talk with other coworkers. Come to think of it, did he even see you at last year’s New Year’s Eve party?
He can’t remember much from the night except Seokjin scolding him for not wishing him a happy birthday the minute the clock struck midnight. He was a bit tipsy at that point. Taehyung disappeared soon after to make his usual rounds, stopping to chat with everyone in his path. Maybe he took off to talk to you during that time.
Okay, he really needs to stop thinking about you.
"Just to confirm, is everyone still on for Friday night to celebrate D-Day?" Jimin pipes. "I booked us a good place to have some food and drinks.
Taehyung nods, "I am, as long as it's not the same place we saw our CFO and his much younger date feeding each other. I couldn't eat for the rest of that night."
Jungkook fakes a gag before replying. "I'm sorry but does anyone know how is he still working here? Guy creeps me out."
"I swear, I couldn't agree more. Just yesterday he made an egregiously body-shaming comment toward __-nim to someone else on the board. She kept a brave front when she told me, but I'm damn tempted to get him removed from his position myself!" Taehyung's nostrils flare as he shares his frustration, fingers digging into his hips.
Yoongi takes a final chug of his water before abruptly tossing the bottle on the floor. A sharp crack resounds through the space, instantly commanding the authority of the room. “Fifteen minutes is over,” he gruffs. “It might be twenty minutes with all the bickering earlier. We don't have time to be talking about this anymore.”
“Come on now," Hoseok says. "Didn't you hear what Taehyung said? Our CFO really is a class-A jerk. I feel so bad that __-nim has to put up with his bullshit, she doesn't deserve it." His eyes frantically search the room, hoping to rally support.
"Don't worry about that asshole," Yoongi assures, "I'll handle it." He strides over to his choreographed position on the dance floor as if a leader in his own right, the rest of the members following in his steps.
"Just don't kill him, hyung," Namjoon says, resting a hand on the older's shoulder from behind. Yoongi merely snorts lightly in reply.
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Yoongi is dead tired, his feet feeling heavier the minute he stands from his studio chair. He could have left hours ago, but here it is nearly 9:30 at night, and he's only just leaving the office.
As he shuffles down the hallway towards the elevator, he notices the eerie silence. It's thick, almost palpable. There's not a soul left in the building this late at night. When the elevator doors open, he leans casually against the metal rail, closes his eyes, and mentally retraces his day.
Overall, it was a decent day, he thinks, productive at best. Skipping dinner to work on his album tracks was an easy decision, but he might be paying for it now given the intense growling of his stomach. Despite his songs being considered perfect by his members, he can't help but tweak each one a final time. It's as if his gut tells him there's still a piece missing from the whole.
All at once, the elevator comes to a sudden stop. Yoongi's eyes shoot open, anticipation flooding his senses. Is someone still here? He listens intently, straining to hear any sound over the faint hum of the elevator. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, the elevator doors slide open to reveal an empty, dimly lit hallway. It's the 16th floor. He hesitates for a second, peering into the shadows, but there’s no sign of anyone. Strange.
Just as the elevator doors begin to close, Yoongi hears a distant, unmistakable voice. "Please hold the door!" you plead, your voice strained with urgency. He responds immediately, stretching out an arm to block the door. "Thank you so much," you say, slipping in beside him, your bag thrown over your shoulder.
Yoongi watches as you enter, curiosity in his eyes. It seems you were of like mind tonight, working late and likely burdened by the extra work he caused for you. The feeling of tension is as clear as it was yesterday, lingering as a reminder of the unspoken discomfort between you both.
But then again, there's that issue Taehyung mentioned, looming in his thoughts. He hadn't realized you overheard the horrendous comment his CFO made about you. No wonder you hurried away from him like a bat out of hell yesterday; you knew he knew. He wouldn't dare shine a light on the situation and risk embarrassing you further; no one needs to relive such a belittling experience. Yet, he's wrestling with the right words to say.
"Heading home, Min PD-nim?" You surprise him by speaking first, voice firm with a touch of gentleness.
Yoongi allows a faint smile to tug at the corners of his lips, hoping it'll relieve some tension. "I am, it's been quite a day. What about you?"
You nod, shifting the bag on your shoulder. "Same here. Just had to wrap up a few things before heading out."
He hesitates for a moment, noting how you speak as if it were only a few minutes past five or six in the evening. "I understand. I was working in my studio up until now. I should be back up there tomorrow too," he says, then chuckles lightly, "Sometimes I feel like I should just live up there."
You return the subtle laugh and smile softly at him, your light brown eyes catching his dark ones. It feels like the same prolonged gaze you shared upon first meeting, yet now, it's somehow become easier; perhaps a hint of familiarity.
"By the way," he continues, seizing the opportunity, "feel free to call me Yoongi-ssi. I'm not that formal in case you didn't know." He playfully gestures to his casual attire; tan cargo pants, grey plaid button-down, and sneakers.
You seem hesitant towards the request at first, evident from your delayed response. "Are you sure?" you choke. "I don't want to over step my boundaries."
"There's no need to worry about that," he assures. "We're on equal level aren't we? If we're going to be working side by side for the next eight months give or take, I want us to feel comfortable with each other. Please, call me Yoongi-ssi."
"Okay, I might need some time to get used to that," you say, head nodding, "I'll try calling you Yoongi-ssi from now on."
"There's one other thing too," he pauses, "since we'll be working on D-Day's promotion from start to finish, I'll have many of my own opinions. It's a natural instinct for me, but I don't want to be a hinderance. I don't want anyone else giving you issues either, so I'd like to hear your full thoughts on matters, especially when it comes to important decisions."
"That means a lot Yoongi-ssi, thank you. I'm very grateful that you'd allow me to be a part of this and I'd very much like us to have an equal partnership. This is your album though, so I want to make sure it gets the recognition it deserves in the way you'd prefer."
Yoongi glances at the floor numbers displayed to the right of the elevator doors. Any second now and you'll reach the lobby. He wouldn't mind talking longer, but letting you both get a decent night's sleep is the far better idea at this point.
"I trust that D-Day is in the right hands with you, __ssi," he replies. "It's why I recommended that we work together to promote it in the first place. Bang PD was also confident in the idea. We don't doubt your expertise for a second." He pauses when the elevator doors slide open and allows you to be the first to exit. "Have a good night, okay?"
For the first time, you reciprocate the wish with a full, illuminating smile. It's not a professional one, Yoongi notes, its a real one—as genuine and sincere as his words. He takes it as a sign that the tides may finally be turning for the better. "You too," he hears you say before you push through the large revolving doors and step into the cool night air.
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In the evenings that follow, Yoongi finds himself back in his studio as promised, a glass of whiskey in hand. He ultimately decided that if he was going to be here until all hours of the night, he might as well have a cold beverage to keep him company.
As he leans back in his chair, swirling the dark amber liquor in his glass, his mind inadvertently wanders to you. Were you downstairs again? Were you here with him? It would seem that given your unexpected late-night encounter in the elevator, the validity of the idea wouldn't be all that wild or far-fetched.
With each passing minute, as the clock inches closer to the late hours, he finds himself circling back to the same thought. It's as if the possibility of running into you has become a highlight of his night.
Just then, a deep and familiar voice interrupts. "Burning the midnight oil again, hyung?"
Startled, Yoongi looks up to see Taehyung standing in the doorway, a sympathetic smile on his face. Despite it being almost 9 at night, his younger member is nothing short of flawless in appearance.
"Yeah, working on my tracks," Yoongi replies, offering a small smile in return. "What are you doing here?"
Taehyung steps further into the room, hand tucked in his pocket. "I wanted to stay late to keep __-nim company, but I'm not sure how much longer she plans on staying tonight. I was on my way out when I figured I'd stop by to see you too."
"Well, thanks for thinking of me. Want a drink?" He offers, nodding towards the nearby whiskey bottle.
"No, thanks," Taehyung declines politely, shaking his head. "I'll let you enjoy your whiskey in peace. Although, __-nim might take you up on that same offer one of these days. She has a strong taste for it, as you do. Anyway, I'm heading out. Don't overdo it with your music, hyung, they're already perfect."
Once Taehyung leaves the studio, Yoongi's previous string of thoughts return to him tenfold.
So you really are here, he muses, and you happen to like the same throat-burning alcohol. Should he venture downstairs and offer a drink? No, that would probably be too much, and he wouldn't want to interrupt you. Maybe if Taehyung were accompanying him, but not alone; he doesn't share enough rapport with you to merit such a spontaneous drop-in yet.
No, he takes another sip of his whiskey, he'll see you tomorrow morning instead; during your morning meeting. But that gets him thinking—he's still yet to decide on whether or not he'll make an appearance on Fallon's show. He’d done it with his members numerous times, but this would be the first time doing it alone. His album would indeed benefit from the exposure, though.
"Damn it," he curses, raising from his seat. "I work my ass off. I work my ass off for it all!" He then sits back down, finishing off the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, the burn soothing his frustration momentarily. With a resigned sigh, he turns his attention back to his music. "Damn it, I guess I'll do it."
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If it weren't for his phone notification reminding him of his 10 am meeting on Friday, Yoongi would have missed it entirely. Normally, he never forgets important events, but several late nights in the studio had predictably caught up with him. He feels extremely sleep-deprived today, his memory more prone to blanking than usual. Waking up with a throbbing headache at 5 am, which hasn't dimmed in the slightest, doesn’t help either. Nonetheless, with only ten minutes to spare, Yoongi has no choice but to pull himself together and head downstairs to the conference room.
"Good morning, Min PD-nim," you greet him as he walks through the door. "We're about to start."
Yoongi drags out a chair and takes a seat. You look nice today, he notes quietly to himself. He makes sure to send a small smile your way before returning the warm greeting. "Good morning __-ssi," he says. "I told you we can speak informally didn't I?"
He waits for your response, easily tuning out the startled reactions from the rest of the team. Most high-ranking officials in the organization expected to be addressed formally by those in lower positions, but here he was, openly requesting you to speak as equals. It was almost unheard of during work hours. He was Min Yoongi, after all.
"Right, of course," you reply, "You'll have to excuse me, Yoongi-ssi. It slipped my mind for a moment."
Yoongi watches as you shuffle a few papers in your hand before continuing. "To get us started, I thought we'd discuss the decision to schedule a spot on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. Will we be proceeding with this?"
"After mauling it over I think it's a good idea for the album. Do we have an idea of when this would happen?"
"Ideally after the album releases and around the time the U.S. tour begins April 26th. I say we aim for early May. Given Fallon's show's high demand, we'll need to get a jump on this as soon as we can." You shift your attention to your digital marketing and promotions team. "So-hyun, can you reach out to the producers and see what strings we can pull?"
She nods, scribbling a quick note on her writing pad. "We'll reach out today. I'll let you know as soon as we get a response."
"Excellent, thank you. I'm glad to hear you're on board with this Yoongi-ssi. It'll be a great way to promote D-Day and attract a global audience. The more smartly we utilize our resources, the better your album will be positioned in the current market." You take a brief pause to flip through your notes again. "Speaking of resources, we'll need to start booking magazine shoots and interviews. I'm proposing we run cover pages with Marie Claire Korea and Vogue Japan."
Yoongi would be taken aback by the flood of ideas and schedules you're firing at him, all within the first fifteen minutes, if he weren't already aware of your level of competency. This is exactly why he chose you, he hums to himself, your preparedness is impressive, but not surprising.
"I presume this will take place next year?" he asks. "During their spring issues?"
"Absolutely. We'll submit inquiries soon to get the ball rolling, but having the shoots completed now would be premature. Plus, it'll take some time before there are any openings with the companies. I think we should be consistent with tour dates and have Marie Claire go out in May and Vogue ready in August of next year."
"Okay, I'm fine with all that but we'll need to have something exciting released now, don't we? I know I start my weekly lives tonight, but shouldn't there be something more we can do?"
"I agree," you reply. "That's why I wanted to propose a brand new idea that came to me a couple of nights ago while I was drafting promotional content. Anytime idols release a new album or music, it gets published on YouTube, right?"
He nods, curious on where you're heading. "Right."
"Why don't we start a talk show with you as the host Yoongi-ssi? It can allow your fans to see another side of you, as well as the general public. We can invite your BTS members as guests where you can discuss music or past challenges that you've had to overcome—the choice is yours. To make it more interesting for viewers, you can have these frank conversations over a glass of whiskey or soju."
"I like the idea," he says, weighing it in his mind. "What would the timeline look like for this?"
"If we move forward with the idea, I suggest December 5th and we continue it for a max of two months. I know that only leaves us with just under two weeks to get started, but creating the set shouldn't take more an a day or a day and a half. We can also easily shoot a 30 to 60-minute video in an afternoon and publish it on YouTube the following week. Of course, a preview of the show will need to go out beforehand."
"Would we be able to invite other guests to the show? Outside of my members, I mean."
"Yes, feel free to invite whoever you'd like. We can start with the member for the first several episodes but ultimately, welcoming a variety of guests from the same or differing industries would be the goal."
"If I may." A member of the social media team suddenly joins the discussion, "I think Kim Namjoon-nim might be a good person to feature first since Indigo releases December 2nd."
Yoongi nods in agreement. "I can ask him."
"That would be fantastic, actually. If his availability is limited, we could have him guest star for the second or third episode instead," you add. "Hoseok released Jack in the Box this summer so we could have him be the first guest as well."
"Do we have a name yet?"
"Suchwita," you answer without hesitation. "It's a play on words with Daechwita."
"Suchwita..." Yoongi repeats, "Time to get drunk." He chuckles at the last few words, amusing the room, but you remain contemplative.
"How about Suchwita...time to drink with Suga, instead? It's simple and has a slight whimsical nature."
"Sure, let's use that," he answers, noticing that you've already begun jotting down the idea. "Yours is better."
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Despite the adrenaline from the productive meeting with you and your team, Yoongi still feels the weight of his sleepless nights bearing down on him. His headache remains relentless and he is in dire need of a moment to himself. Once the team disperses, he slips his phone into his pocket and makes his way outside. The crisp, early morning air should offer him some relief, along with the pack of cigarettes tucked in his pocket.
When he reaches the building's designated smoking area, Yoongi takes out a cigarette and lights it, taking a deep drag as he leans against the cool brick wall. As he exhales, watching the smoke dissipate into the clear sky, his thoughts drift back to the meeting. The idea of hosting a talk show, "Suchwita...time to drink with Suga," still lingers in his mind. It’s an intriguing concept, and he can already envision the relaxed, candid conversations that could come from it.
His thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching on the ground nearby.
"Oh, Yoongi-ssi," you say with alarm, obviously startled by his presence. "I didn't mean to interrupt you. I'll come back lat-"
"There's no need for that. Join me if you'd like." Yoongi watches as you hesitate to accept his offer, your feet already positioned to head back inside the building. "Seriously, there's plenty of room, and no matter what they'll tell you, I don't bite."
He allows himself to smirk as you carefully move beside him, only stopping when there is at least two feet of space between you both.
"Thanks," you say, pulling out your own pack of cigarettes and lighting one. "I needed a break too."
"Rough morning?"
"Just busy," you reply, leaning against the wall next to him. "But the meeting went well. We should be able to get the ball rolling now that we have a more finalized plan. I'm glad you liked the idea of starting Suchwita, by the way."
"I do," Yoongi says, nodding. "It has a lot of potential and I'm sure Namjoon will be more than happy to help us out. He's a natural at this kind of stuff. I guess it's why he's our band leader."
"You know you're good at all of this too, don't you, Yoongi-ssi?" You pause, taking a puff of your cigarette. "Even when you have a lot on your mind and a packed schedule, you have a knack for making people feel at ease. It's why I think producing Suchwita will be such a great way to connect with fans and other artists—you'll be the host."
He chuckles, appreciative of the remark. "You really think that? That I make people feel at ease? It's not what a lot of people assume."
"Nah," you reply, tilting your head up toward the clouds. "They're just on the outside looking in. Those who know you, who are around you and talk to you, will agree that you're a pretty calming presence."
"Well, I think we're not so different then." Yoongi shifts his eyes to your face, still looking up at the sky, and smiles softly. "So, what made you come to BigHit? Didn't you say you worked for Atlantic Records? That's a pretty good gig."
"Yeah, it was. I learned a lot there, and man, I was thrilled when I got offered the job as a brand manager. I've always loved music, ever since I was a kid. I could connect so intimately with the lyrics. Music is one of the few things that could soothe me during rough times, and it still does today. I'm sure you can understand."
Yoongi nods, intent on listening to your every word, intrigued by your story.
"Anyway, sorry about getting long-winded here" you chuckle. "I ultimately decided to move on when Bang PD reached out and offered me the marketing manager position for TXT. It gave me the chance to be a more integral part of bringing music to individuals who need it most. It's like we say, 'music for art and healing.' I'd never had the opportunity to manage a completely new set of musicians before either, let alone a group. Plus, being on the global marketing team? I couldn't turn it down."
"It makes sense why you joined us then, and I have to say, it's a blessing you did too. Music is a way of communication for me, a way I can best express my story. That includes my past, present, and hopefully future. After hearing all you shared, I don't think there's anyone else I'd trust with handling my album promos." Yoongi pauses a moment, unsure if he should ask the next thing on his mind. "How come we never met before? I mean really meet and talk?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure myself. But things have a way of falling into place when the time is right, I suppose." You're now looking at him, the intensity of your gaze mirrors his own. A gentle breeze tousles a few strands of your hair and for a split moment, Yoongi begins to understand what Taehyung meant earlier when he said it feels like he's known you his whole life, like a childhood friend he'd reconnected with. While it may not be to that extent for himself, there's a comforting warmth emanating from you that leaves him feeling strangely tranquil.
"Given the circumstances, I feel like we should have at least met through Taehyung by now," he slips out. "Or even at a company-sponsored event."
"Why, do you like me that much, Yoongi-ssi? After five days of working together?" Your playful tease catches him off guard, revealing a side of you he hadn't seen before. It's kind of cute-wait, what?
"I-"
"Sorry," you quickly interject, feeling the need to backtrack. "I shouldn't have said it like that."
"Don't worry, there's no need for apologies. And to answer your question, I like you enough." He hopes you can hear the tease in his own tone as he responds.
You both lapse into a comfortable silence for the next few minutes, the only sounds being the distant hum of traffic and the occasional chirp of a bird. He finds all of it soothing in a way he can't quite explain.
After a few minutes, you turn to him, your expression thoughtful. "You know, if you ever need to talk or just need a break, I'm here. We're teammates now."
Yoongi looks at you, his tired eyes softening with gratitude. "Thanks, __-ssi."
You give him a reassuring smile before pushing off the wall. "I'll let you finish your cigarette. See you later? And by later, I likely mean at 9 or 10 pm in our company elevator."
"Yeah, see you later," he laughs, watching as you walk back toward the building. He takes one last inhale, extinguishing the cigarette and letting the remaining smoke escape his lips slowly.
Yeah, he likes you just enough.
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a/n: Hope you enjoyed it! Lmk what you think 🥰
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easy-there-leftovers · 3 months
Text
Magnum Opus (Prologue)
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When an MIT prodigy on their gap year is contacted by the FBI regarding potential involvement in a series of murders in Washington D.C., she must now cooperate to uncover how paintings are mysteriously appearing at the crime scenes. (Written with Season 1-4 Spencer in mind, but the timeline could be anywhere pre-season 12. No mentions of past cases)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Artist! reader|cw: Canon-typical violence|word count: 700 words
Notes: I made up a bunch of chemicals and their chemical properties up so shhhh!! Also, I'm not American, I have no contextual understanding of the distance of one place to another. The US is large enough.
Also on Ao3!!
Series Masterlist
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"Muses are the silent artists of our souls, whispering inspiration into the canvas of our thoughts, painting the colors of creativity with the brushstrokes of imagination." - Author Unknown.
“Seven months ago, one freelance architect named James Carter aged 42 was murdered in his own home in Newton Massachusetts. The victim was posed like the painting placed at the foot of his own couch. All forms of ID on him were missing.” 
JJ made her way from the map inside the meeting room to the screen to present pictures of the crime scene. All other agents made their way inside, with Garcia jotting down notes, as they listened and took their respective places.
“Four months after that, indie artist Daniel Lopez, aged 25, was also found dead in her apartment with another painting and missing ID. Posed just like the girl in it too. Autopsy revealed similar entry and exit wounds through the chest.” 
Images of the victims’ wounds that have already been cleaned up were exposed to the camera. Wounds that could’ve been missed if investigations weren’t conducted made themselves notable as Emily and Spencer opened up their files.
“Ballistics?” 
JJ shook her head at Morgan's question. “No bullets were found.”
“The unsub probably killed them somewhere secluded, then placed them back in their home.” Emily looked to Spencer, only to see him already getting up towards the screen.
“Look at the way they’re dressed. Clothes fitted like that aren’t meant to be worn without the intention of meeting someone.”  Spencer motioned to their clothes. “They didn’t intend to go just anywhere looking like that.”
“Yeah, well neither did this man.” JJ then presented a picture of another victim, another male, another painting, posed in another home. She then turned to redress the rest of the team. “Found yesterday with similar signatures. The only difference is that he was actually staged in a vacant apartment. Everything in there was left by the previous owners. Still no ID on him.”
The resident team genius furrowed his eyebrows at the information, turning to see what the others thought. “Kills both males and females…”
“Victims were found with their clothes on. Dressed to impress but no signs of torture, no experimentation,” Hotch lifted the pictures nearer to his face. “Doesn’t look like he’s interested in either.”
“A serial killer with no sexual preference?” Emily raised her brow at that.
“Wouldn’t be the first.” Spencer replied, looking closer at the paintings in his own file. “Although the subjects in the paintings look exactly like the victims they’re placed on. It brings up the question of which one came first, the person depicted in the painting, or the painting itself…”
“Says here forensics found no prints anywhere but did find traces of  5-dur– durasta—”
“5-durastalene. Also known as ‘Lunacite.’” Spencer corrected Rossi.
“Actually, this synthetic compound is a little on the newer side, a compound that was originally developed by an MIT student for their dissertation in the Chemical Engineering program. I tried figuring out what the naming convention she used was but she didn’t give an explanation on that part. I assumed it could’ve been one out of a number of references, ranging from an anagram of—”
“How new are we talking?” Hotch interrupted, but deeply thankful that someone on the team seemed to have a lead.
“13 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days new. But it’s weird.” Spencer punctuates his statement by flicking through the papers. 
“The compound shouldn’t be commercially available anywhere and it’s meant to make other materials resistant to corrosion. No one should be using it in paint, let alone processing it.” The team let his words ring in their head before Hotch broke the silence.
“Garcia, look for MIT graduates who have worked with Lunacite and a background in fine arts.”
“Already way ahead of you chief, and deliciously, only one name fits the bill in every angle you can have it.” Their tech analyst who had been typing away then placed her laptop pointedly and turned it onto the round table for everyone to see. Everyone leans forward, but the BAU’s resident pretty boy is the one who says the name out loud.
“Y/N L/N.” On the screen is a put-together picture of you on various digital scans of your passport, driver’s license, doctoral degrees in Chemical Engineering and Anthropology, and undergrad degrees in both Philosophy and Sociology.
“Watch out, pretty boy. You may have just found your match.” Morgan’s comment is greeted with a few snickers, much to Spencer’s dismay.
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Secret Conversation- Thranduil x Human!Reader
Summary: Bard brings his Sindarin speaking friend when going to talk to Thranduil and Thranduil decides to flirt with her
Word count: 1, 352
A/N: italics is spoken in Sindarin
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Though you hadn’t known Bard for very long, only looking after his kids for the past four months, when he told you of his meeting with Thranduil, you had insisted on joining him. You didn’t tell many people, but you did know Sindarin and you believed you’d be a good asset to your new friend.
Even though you stood beside Bard and he acted as a buffer between you and the famed king of the woodland realm, it was difficult to not feel intimidated. Even in such a simple throne in a cloth tent, he still held such power and grace to him, so much so that it was hard to take your eyes from him.
Honestly, you could have stared at the king for hours, but you decided that standing beside Bard and trying to not draw much attention to yourself was the best course of action. Unfortunately however, your wandering looks still managed to catch the attention of the elvish king, and his gaze often caught yours.
Trying your best to stay out of the way as you stood beside your friend, a guard came in to give word to Thranduil.
“What are they saying?” Bard gently asked you, not realising that the elves would definitely be able to hear him, though the whisper was extremely quiet.
“He’s just keeping Thranduil informed of the guard change, and that the number of guards will be increasing now that the sun is lower.” You whisper back as quietly as possible, although you knew he’d hear you.
Thranduil obviously heard your response and it intrigued him. As the kings gaze flicked over to the two of you, Bard stood straighter and your eyes fell to the floor. Though you did not look at him, you could tell Thranduils eyes were watching you intently.
Desperately you kept your gaze on the ground, hoping your knowledge of his language would not get you or Bard into trouble.
“So that is why you brought her along, because she knows of our language. Is that right, girl?” Thranduil teasingly enquires.
“Ye-yes.” You nervously whisper, as your eyes slowly rise to meet Thranduils enchanting stare.
“Interesting. How is it you know our tongue?” Thranduil continues to interrogate, appearing both intimidating and alluring as he looks you over while he talks.
“M-my mother was a linguist. She studied many languages and often acted as a translator for political matters. She shared her love of language and reading with me.” You timidly admit, the thought of your mother helping you to feel less intimidated before such a powerful king.
“She sounds like a very interesting woman.” Thranduil says, offering you a gentle smile, which you give him in return.
“Now I do have questions for your ears alone.” The king asks now in his own tongue, obviously not wanting Bard to hear.
Bard knows this is Thranduils intent and turns to you, worried about what he might have said. You give Bard a reassuring smile and look back to Thranduil.
“What is it you’d like to know?” You reply in his own language.
Hearing you speak Sindarin makes his eyes shine and a cheeky smile to appear on his face as he sits up straighter. Thranduil liked the way you sounded when you spoke in his own tongue. You sounded so enchanting and his fascination for you seemed to grow.
“Do you live with him?” Quickly came Thranduils first question, of what you’d assumed would be many.
“No, I simply care for his children when he is away working.”
Confirmation that Bard and yourself were not together seemed to interest him even more, as he now uncrossed his legs and positioned his body to face you more.
“Such a pretty young thing taking care of another man’s children. Surely you have wondered how it would feel to take on more wifely duties for him. Though he’s not my type, he seems to be the most handsome and intelligent man among your townsfolk. Has a thought not crossed your mind as to how he could make you feel? How his experienced hands may bring you pleasure?” Thranduils enchanting eyes bore into your own, as if he was looking into your very soul, pinning you to your spot.
Bard could sense that Thranduil was trying to intimidate you and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder.
“We can leave if you like.” Bard kindly whispered in your ear, the comment making Thranduils grin grow.
You’d have to be blind to not be attracted to Thranduil and you were not one to back down from a challenge. You wanted to see how far he would go with this game, and honestly, you might have your own fun flirting back with the elvish king.
“Would you like that? Like to leave with him? Well not with him, he would still not warm your bed or draw pleasure from you in the way you desire.”
A slight smirk of your own played on your lips as you saw your opening to meet his challenge. What Thranduil was saying wasn’t necessarily wrong, of course you’d thought of Bard in such a way, but they were more fleeting thoughts of fancy than they were actual desires. The woodland king however? He was beginning to fill you with desires.
“What if I chose to stay here? Would you fulfil my desires, Thranduil?” The kings body erupted as he heard you speak his name.
“I have only slept with the race of men. Tell me, would a night with you bring greater pleasure than what a man could provide?” You meet his challenge in a way he was not expecting. He smirked and looked down as he saw the way you held onto Bards forearm, pretending it was for courage, but both you and the king knew it was to tease him.
“Oh you sweet girl. I have lived more lives than all the men you’ve had combined. I could draw pleasure from you that you had never thought possible. Why if your friend wasn’t standing there, I’d taking you right now in this tent. I’d want to be slow with you, give you your pleasure again and again, but with the way you tease me, I think I might have to take a different approach.” Thranduils flirting continues, though his voice is kept neutral as to not draw too much attention to what you both were really talking about.
“And what approach would that be, your highness?” You meet his challenge, his formal title making the fires inside him grow.
“A more assertive one. Where I rip your blouse down the middle so I can see more of what I know is a beautiful body, and so I can bite and kiss and lick more of your skin. I can be a very tolerable and patient elf, but you have made me desperate. I would push you against the table and take you from behind. I’d have you in a way no man ever has before, but that would be just the beginning of our night. If you don’t leave with him, I will have you in every way there is to have a lover, for as long as your human body can take.”
By the time Thranduil had finished talking, your body was on fire, and you were about ready to pounce on him right here and now, but you knew you had to keep a calm disposition with Bard still standing beside you.
Turning to your friend, you keep your eyes serious as you look to him.
“Go back to the children, I need to discuss some things with Thranduil. I’m not sure how long I’ll be but I’ll find you in the morning. I’ll be okay.” You sweetly explain to your friend, covering any suspicion of ulterior motive.
Bard turned to look at Thranduil, giving him a warning look, before turning back to you.
“Okay, be safe and I’ll be keeping an eye out for your return.” Bard sweetly smiled at you, before leaving the tent.
Turning to Thranduil, you both wore matching devilish smirks.
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beyondthesefourwalls · 9 months
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Cowboy Resolutions
Summary: New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck with all of your friends was a tradition, one that you loved and held close to your heart. When you and your husband decide to slip away from the crowd for a late night stroll on the beach right before midnight, you realize that neither of you had the purest of intentions when it came to wanting to get away. 
Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 2.8K Warnings: Smut with a dash of fluff, including shenanigans in public. Language.
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You feel his arms wrap around you right before you hear his voice in your ear, low and husky and trying too hard to be sexy to actually be sexy. 
“Hey there darlin. How about we be naughty together and save Santa a trip next year?” 
You can’t help the snort you let out as you start laughing. Jake kisses your neck playfully before you turn in his arms to face him, chest pressed to his. You’re careful not to spill the drink you had just gotten. “If that’s how it works, I’m pretty sure we secured our spot on the naughty list on Christmas day a week ago, pretty boy.” 
He wags his eyebrows dramatically, drawing another giggle out of you. “I think you’re right, beautiful. Several times, if I remember correctly.”
“On that note, I’m going to play pool before I vomit everywhere.” 
You ignore Nat’s gag and loud proclamation; you don’t need to look at her to know that she rolled her eyes as she walked away from where the two of you had been chatting at the bar before your husband had interrupted. 
“Well they say you’re supposed to bring in the year the way you want to spend it,” you tell him, and he hums thoughtfully. 
“A year of amazing sex with my absolutely smokin’ wife? Screw the good list, where do I sign?” 
His voice gets lower the closer he brings his face to yours, and by the last word, you can feel him speak against your lips. You grin into it when he finally kisses you. Despite the fact that every regular in the bar should be used to seeing your public displays of affection after years of it, cat calls still ring out over the sound of chatter and the jukebox. You roll your eyes while you pull away, but Jake’s shameless smirk is enough to soften your smile. 
“Jealous fuckers,” he mutters, and you’ve gone through this enough to know he’s only joking. His eyebrows raise again and he lets his hand drift to slide over your butt, squeezing once through the material of your skirt. “Maybe we should really give them something to gawk out.” 
You laugh at his familiar antics and shake your head. “Down, Cowboy.”
But you know that Jake's playful nature, one that not many people get to see, is one of the things you love most about him. His ability to make even the simplest moments feel special and exciting is what keeps the flame alive in your relationship, even after all this time.  
“Aww, darlin. You’re no fun.” 
“Careful now,” you tell him, linking your fingers through his and starting to make your way through the crowd to where your friends have gathered by the pool tables. You grin at him playfully over your shoulder, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Or you won’t get any kisses at midnight.” 
The sound of Jake’s laughter was one of your favorite sounds in the whole world, and you let it surround you as you greet the group you considered family. New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck was something you had done the last two years, and with this third occurrence, you thought it was a solidified tradition amongst you all. It’s nice, being able to have those now. You and Jake have moved around a handful of times in your relationship, never in one spot for long, but San Diego is somewhere you’re so glad to actually call home now. It’s something you were unbelievably grateful for - that, and these people who continuously brought so much joy into your life. 
As the night wears on, the bar becomes increasingly crowded and lively. The music thumps through the speakers, blending with the laughter and conversations that filled the air. It’s when Bradley unplugs the jukebox and settles in at the old, worn piano by the bar that your husband links his fingers through yours, tugging lightly. You look over at him to see him tilt his head toward the general direction of the back door. You smile lightly, knowing what he’s asking without him having to utter a word, and you nod. 
As you take a break from the crowded bar and step outside into the crisp night air, Jake wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. 
“Take a walk with me?” he asks, and you murmur your assent. You know that the heeled boots you’re wearing won’t mix well with the sand, so using him as an anchor, you bend to take them off. You sigh in relief once your toes hit the sand, feeling cool and refreshing through the barrier of your socks. 
“Lead the way,” you smile. 
The moon hangs low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the ocean.  He keeps you tucked into his side as you walk along the empty beach, the music and lights from the bar fading with every step. The chilly wind bites at your cheeks, but the warmth of the alcohol you had consumed and Jake's body keeps you cozy. If you weren’t always so in tune with his touch, you may have missed the way his hand progressively slid lower and lower on your back. 
“I feel like you didn’t have the purest intentions with this walk,” you murmur. A shiver runs through you that has nothing to do with the breeze and everything to do with the sound of his low, deep laughter. It rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your side. 
“Well, darlin’, you know me too well.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple. "Maybe I had a little ulterior motive," he admits, his voice laced with something.  “What do you say?” 
You giggle as he kisses down the side of your face, featherlight and intoxicating, and tugs lightly on your ear. “Here?” 
“No,” he says, “there.” 
He points, and through the darkness, you see the old lifeguard stand, unmanned this late at night, especially this far down the beach. His suggestion hangs in the air, thick with appeal and eagerness.
“Well,” you say after a brief moment of contemplation that really didn’t take long at all. You take a step away from him, your body automatically missing his warmth even as it thrummed with excitement. You shoot him a look that you know he recognizes by how his smile transforms. “I did say you should bring in the year the way you want to spend it, didn’t I?” 
You take off in a run at the same moment he reaches for you, and you squeal with laughter as he chases you right to where he pointed earlier - right to where you want him now. 
He presses you against the wooden structure once you both reach it, and without breaking stride, his lips are on yours. The kiss is slow and tantalizing at first, but soon enough, it deepens, and his tongue sweeps into your mouth in a familiar dance that leaves you breathless. He tastes like whiskey and the leftover mini candy canes you kept in your purse and your heart races. The sounds of the crashing waves and distant partying from the bar fade away as you sink into his embrace. You feel his other hand slide up your thigh, tracing slow circles on your skin. His touch is electric, making your body hum. Even the cool breeze nipping at your exposed skin isn’t enough to cool you down. 
As he pulls back, breathing heavily, you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness of it between them. His breath comes out hot against your lips as he whispers, "I love how responsive you are to me."
His mouth descends upon yours again. His hand moves higher, cupping your breast through your sweater, his fingers teasing your nipple through the fabric. Your response is instantaneous; you arch your back and groan, completely caught up in the moment.  "How do you want it?" he asks, kisses trailing down your neck. You tilt your head to allow easier access to your throat. 
"Jake," you moan. You clutch at him, one hand in his hair and the other wrinkling the material of his flannel shirt. 
"Tell me, darlin'," he requests, commands, and you whimper as it's accompanied by a bite of your skin. "How do you want it? You want to climb up in the chair? Or you want me to take you right here against it?" 
It was hard to think with the way he was touching you and the feel of his lips on yours. But you suddenly had the undeniable urge to ride him. The added bonus of being elevated off the ground like you would be, all the while being safe in your husband’s arms, sent a chill of excitement through you. “Up,” you breathe, pushing him away just slightly. 
You’re both clumsy as you eagerly climb up onto the raised, wide seat. You hiss at the cold of the wood as your knees settle on either side of his thighs, but his touch distracts you immediately as he tugs your short skirt up to bunch at your waist, allowing you to sit on his lap more comfortably and without risk of stretching the material. You smirk for just a second before a groan tears from his throat when his fingers meets nothing but skin. 
“You forget to put something on, baby?” he husks, and you shake your head. You don’t even try to look innocent. 
“You weren’t the only one with ulterior motives, Cowboy.” 
Your hands move to his belt buckle, undoing it with practiced ease. He watches you intently as you move on to the button and zip of his jeans. He's hard under your hands and god, you want him. But you know you're not the only one. Jake groans, his hips thrusting instinctively into your touch. Your eyes flash to his and you see him biting his lip as he watches you intently, his green eyes dark with desire. You feel powerful like this, seeing the hunger there. 
You pull his erection from the denim keeping him confined. He's hard and thick, the head glistening with a bead of pre-cum. You can't resist running your hand over the smooth, velvety skin, stroking him gently. Jake's breath hitches, his eyes fluttering shut as you continue to stroke him. He keeps a hand steady on your back, ensuring your balance, but lets the other reach down between your legs. His touch brushes against your own as he goes, stroking through the liquid heat he finds. You moan softly as his fingers find their way inside you, matching the rhythm of your hand on him. His thumb swipes across your sensitive clit, sending a jolt of need through you. You gasp, your other hand pulling at the back of his head, drawing him closer. 
"Jake, please," you beg, arching into his touch. He pulls his hand away from you just long enough to position himself at your entrance. He drags his cock through your wetness, coating himself. He's hard and ready, and you can't wait any longer. "Please." 
He doesn't need any further encouragement as he slowly enters you, stretching you open in the best way. You cry out in pleasure, your head falling back as you feel him deep inside you. 
"God, you feel so good," he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin. Like you want to prove to him that you can be even better, you lift yourself off of him slowly, sinking back down as he moans. "That's my girl." 
His muscles tense under your touch, urging you on, and you oblige without hesitation. His hands keep a firm grip on your waist as you set a steady rhythm. Your thighs burn deliciously from the exertion, but you don’t mind, leaning forward to capture his lips. It's a frenzied tangle of tongues and teeth, while his hips buck upward into yours. The feel of him inside you is exhilarating, driving you closer and closer to the edge. 
Your hands twine in his hair, pulling his head back just enough so you can look into his eyes. They're lust-filled and dark, mirroring the emotions swirling within you. 
"Harder," you pant. 
"Fuck, baby," he growls as he speeds up his pace. He thrusts into you harder, each hit sending ripples of pleasure through you. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you press closer to him. He hits that spot inside of you that only he can reach and the stars that dot your vision aren't from the sky above you. 
"Yes, oh, fuck. Jake!" He finds it again and your muscles clench. "I'm going to come," you gasp, and Jake's answering groan lets you know that he's close, too. 
"Come for me, darlin'," he chants, his voice low and raspy, commanding you to give in to the feeling. 
His words send you over the edge, and your scream of his name is cut off with his mouth surging to meet yours - you had nearly forgotten that you were outside. Your orgasm ripples through you, your body trembling under the waves of pleasure. You feel him give one, two, three more thrusts before he’s falling over, too. His cum is hot as it fills you and you can’t help but moan into his kiss at the sensation - there was nothing quite like it.
He pulls back once breathing becomes an issue. You're both panting and breathless. He takes your face in his hands, the roughness of his fingertips a long-formed comfort. You just stare for a few moments, letting your heart rates settle. 
"Hell of a way to end the year," he finally murmurs, voice filled with warm affection. 
You can't pass up the opportunity he's given you considering the current circumstances, raising an eyebrow playfully. "With your cum inside of me?" 
He huffs out a laugh, but you feel his cock twitch inside of you nonetheless. “The best way to do it.” 
You hum in response and grab his wrist, twisting it to get a look at his watch. 11:52. 
"If we hurry we can probably make it back to the Hard Deck in time for midnight," you tell him, though you're in no rush to move. Jake shrugs a shoulder, and it's enough to tell you that he isn't, either. You smile at him softly, leaning forward for another kiss. After another minute or two, you gently disentangle yourself from each other. Jake tucks himself back into his pants as you pull your skirt down. The raised wooden structure is really not comfortable for either of you now that you weren't completely caught up in your lust. He climbs down from the chair first and keeps a protective hand on you as you make your way down after him. 
Instead of moving to walk back to the bar, though, you settle together in the sand. Your back is to his chest and his arms are wrapped firmly around you. His chin is tucked into your shoulder and you watch the waves gently lapping in the ocean as you sit in a peaceful, comforting silence. 
“Any resolutions this year?” he eventually asks. You feel his breath against your neck and goosebumps erupt over your skin. You hope you never stop reacting to him this way. 
“Hmmm. None yet. You?”
“Already did it,” he says nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrow and your twist your neck to look at him. 
“What?”
His smirk grows and his green eyes twinkle with mischief. “Guarantee myself on the naughty list for Santa next year, obviously.” 
You smack his arm right as the fireworks start going off, and his laughter is masked by the sound. There are bursts of every color you could imagine appearing in the sky, and you let yourself get distracted by the display until your husband nudges you gently. 
When your eyes meet his this time, the look on his face is softer. It’s a look he only ever has for you, full of love and adoration, and despite how long you’ve been together, you feel butterflies erupt in your tummy as it washes over you. He tilts your chin up with a gentle hand. It’s the sweetest kiss you had exchanged all night, nothing more than a light brush of his lips against yours. Your nose brushes against his as, for a moment, you just breathe the other in. 
“Happy New Year, darlin’,” Jake finally whispers, and his words taste sweet against your lips. 
“Happy New Year, Jake.” 
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Notes: Happy (almost) New Year everyone! Finishing off the trifecta of holiday fics with The Blonde One™️ just felt right. Thanks for reading! Likes/comments/reblogs are the kindest.
Special thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all of their help as always, and for Mak for making the dreamiest banners.
Main Masterlist
498 notes · View notes
darkeralmond · 1 year
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TYSM FOR THE REQUEST BABES I FINALLY GOT IT!!
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Hopper’s Cove
Jeremiah Fisher x fem! Reader
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synopsis: nicole leaves you and your friends in hopper’s cove after conrad texts belly someone romantic. you call jeremiah to pick you up and help which leads to something more.
warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, praising kink, making out, nipple play
word count: 2k
a/n: TYSM FOR THE REQUEST!! i’m so excited for speak now tv… ONLY A COUPLE DAYS!!!
masterlist | request info
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A pair of car headlights shined on Taylor, Belly, and you as it pulled out of Hopper’s Cove. “What the fuck?” you yelled as you watched the car drive away, leaving the three of you stranded while naked in the lake.
Taylor swam over to the dock and pulled herself up. “They took everything!” She looked back at you and Belly with a look of distress on her face.
“What?!” Belly and you yelled in sync before swimming toward Taylor. You pulled yourself up and saw all your clothes were gone.
“The only thing they left was your phone,” Taylor said to Belly. She read the text plastered on the screen from Conrad which really incriminated Belly. Belly couldn’t help but crack a smile while Taylor read the semi-romantic text. “Belly! Focus!” Taylor hit her, causing Belly to snap out of whatever trance she was stuck in.
You thought about a solution while your friends argued. You knew there was one person to call and that was your best friend. “We have to call Jeremiah… and Conrad,” you said Conrad’s name like it was an afterthought. “They need to bring us our stuff.” You got your wet hair out of your face by tucking it behind your ear.
“No, I don’t want to start any more drama with Conrad.” Belly shook her head and frowned.
Taylor scoffed, “That doesn’t matter, Belly. We need to get our stuff back so we don’t get hypothermia.”
Belly continued to argue with Taylor about it, but you had already grabbed your phone and dialed Jeremiah’s number. He answered quickly, “Hello?” There was loud house party music blaring in the background.
“Jeremiah?” you said, your voice a bit shaky. “Nicole and her friends just left us in Hopper’s Cove while we were skinny dipping and she took all our shit.”
“Like what?” Jeremiah replied, obviously confused and concerned by the story you just gave him. “Are you okay? Who’s with you?”
“She took our clothes! I’m with Taylor and Belly.” You looked over at the two girls who listened intently. “Please hurry with our stuff.”
“I’m on the way,” Jeremiah said before hanging up. You put the phone down and looked over at the girls.
“He’s heading over,” you said, nodding at the girls. Taylor had a look of relief on her face while Belly still looked worried.
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Jeremiah and Conrad’s cars pulled up to the cove, their headlights spotlighting you. “Y/N!” Jeremiah yelled as he sprung out of his car and ran toward you guys. “Holy shit, are you okay? What happened?” He leaned down to your level.
You shook your head. “Too much to explain right now.” He frowned as he stared into your eyes, your glossy eyes. It made him feel sick.
“Nicole gave me these,” Conrad said as he placed the clothes on the deck.
Taylor squinted her eyes and glared at Conrad. “We wouldn’t have been in this mess if you had just left Belly alone.” He didn’t say anything after that, he just frowned and stepped away. “Can you two turn around?”
Taylor’s words pulled Jere away from the intense eye contact between you two. “Yeah, of course!” he said, immediately getting up from his spot and turned away with Conrad.
The three of you got out of the pool and threw on your clothes. The dry cloth stuck to your wet body as you put on your shorts and shirt. Once the other girls finished, you said, “Okay. We’re good.”
They turned back around, now acting really awkward. Jeremiah cleared his throat and approached you. “How’s the driving situation gonna go?” he asked.
“Uh,” Belly spoke up. “We could ride with Conrad.” She glanced over at Taylor when she said that. Taylor glared at Belly when she said that, obviously not wanting to go. Belly muttered something to her which caused Taylor to roll her eyes and agree.
You looked up at Jere and smiled softly, “I can ride with you… if that’s fine with you.”
He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into a side hug. “Of course it’s fine.” He pulled away and looked up at Conrad, Taylor, and Belly. “We’ll meet you guys at the house.”
The group of three got in Conrad’s car and drove off while you and Jeremiah hopped into his car. He leaned back against the seat before looking over at you with a soft expression. “Now can you tell me what happened?” he asked.
You cleared your throat and let out a small hum. “Uh, yeah.” Your eyes trailed away from his. You couldn’t keep eye contact with him, it was nearly impossible.
Moments like these made you feel like you were incredibly vulnerable. Like any small move could really mess up this entire friendship between you two.
You cleared your throat, focusing on the lake in front of you. “Conrad texted Belly about how he really wanted to ask her to the deb ball and not only because Susannah told him to.” You looked back at him and frowned.
He let out a scoff and looked off to the lake as well. “Sounds like Connie,” he responded. He ran his fingers through his blonde curls and looked back at you. “So she took all your stuff because of that?”
You nodded your head and let out a small exhale, “It’s stupid. I didn’t expect her to be such a snake.” This won a laugh out of him which made a smile grow on your face. “Thank you for coming.” You looked down at your lap where you fiddled with your thumbs.
“Why wouldn’t I come?” he asked. “You’ll always have me.”
This sent a chill down your spine as you perked your head up. The way he said this sounded different than the other times he did. “What do you mean?” you asked. You didn’t know what made this feel different than the other times before.
His expression turned into a shocked one, you swore you could’ve seen his face dusted with blush. “Oh, well…” he started. “You know… I care about you a lot and… yeah!”
A smile played on your lips as you furrowed your eyebrows. “Jeremiah Fisher, are you blushing?”
He rolled his eyes and looked away. “Shut up!” he laughed. “Yes, I am.” He looked back at you and smiled softly. You met his gaze, listening to the loud pounding of your heart in your ear. “Y/N,” he said, “I really like you. Like… I love you.”
Your eyes widened as your mouth dropped open slightly. His confession caught you completely off guard. Jeremiah loved you? Was he serious? “Really?”
“Definitely,” he said as he reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. A warm feeling crept through your veins and onto your cheeks. Now you were the one blushing.
“Jeremiah, I…” You closed your mouth and looked down at your hands as you rubbed circles onto his hand with your thumb. After taking a deep breath you turned back up to him with wide eyes and spoke very quietly. “Me too. I like you too.” Your cheeks flushed and you smiled a bright smile.
A smile spread on his face as he leaned over to place a kiss on your lips. You kissed him back, your eyes fluttering shut. His lips tasted so sweet and you were giddy at the sensation.
His hand left yours and made its way down to your upper thigh. You broke away from the kiss out of shock before glancing down at his hand back to his eyes.
In the heat of the moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Jeremiah. I want you to be my first.” His blue eyes pulled that out of you, and you were a bit embarrassed.
His eyebrows raised as his eyes widened. “Your first…?” He blinked a couple times in disbelief. “You mean…?”
You nodded your head. “Yes.” You grabbed his hand off your thigh and gripped onto it tightly. “Please?” you begged. You batted your eyelashes playfully as you stared into his eyes. You waited for his answer as he processed everything.
Slowly but surely, his face turned a deeper shade of red. He seemed hesitant to say yes to you, but eventually he did. “Okay.”
You nodded your head. “Okay.” You placed another kiss on his lips, this one more heated and passionate. You unbuckle your seatbelt while your lips continue to stay locked with his. You pulled away and crawled over the seat as he leaned back in the driver seat.
You straddled his lap and looked down at him, your hands now rested on his upper chest. He glanced down at your shirt before pulling his shirt off. You followed him and revealed your white bralette.
He stared at your body in awe, his hands slowly coming up to grope your breasts. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” This caused your face to turn a deep shade of red as he snaked his hands around your back and unclasped the bra.
Your nipples hardened as his fingers grazed against your cool, damp skin. He placed kisses on your body before locking his lips around one of your nipples.
A quiet moan escaped from you as you tilted your head to the side. His hands trailed down to your lower back as he placed kisses on your boobs. “Jeremiah.” You mewled, grabbing his hair gently. He moaned into your skin when he heard you speak his name.
“You sound so sexy when you say my name,” he mumbled. You shook your head and giggled lightly as he sucked on your right nipple.
He gave quick licks against your bud which drove you mad, but it wasn’t enough for you. “Jere,” you whimpered. “Stop teasing!”
“But you sound so sexy when you say my name…” he whispered, kissing the tip of your right breast. You bit your bottom lip and clenched your fists in his blonde locks. “Hurry up, Jeremiah.”
He giggled at your whines, but gave into your requests. He pulled away and unbuckled his belt, sliding his pants and boxers down just enough for him to palm his dick in his hand. You slid down your shorts and panties, looking at him with anticipation. “Are you on anything?” he asked.
You nodded your head, “Plan B.”
“Okay,” he answered and looked down at his erection. “You ready?” he asked softly.
“God, yes. Yes, please,” you replied.
With a smirk on his face, he aligned himself with your entrance. He inserted himself inside you, causing a gasp to fall from your lips. You rocked your hips back and forth at a steady pace.
He groaned at your movement, his hands held onto your hips to guide you. “Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good. So perfect…”
Your eyes fluttered shut as you moved your hips faster against him. You held back a small moan as a tightness began forming in your core. As quickly as it came, the pain disappeared, leaving behind a warm feeling instead.
You opened your eyes and focused them on Jeremiah. He had his eyes closed with a satisfied look etched across his features. His breaths were heavy, he didn’t hesitate to pull his pants down, he must’ve been really turned on.
Your movements began slowing down. Your hips still moved rhythmically to give him an amazing time. He groaned at how close he felt you getting to your orgasm. He tightened his grip on your hips. “Just cum, Y/N. Come on.”
Your eyes rolled back as you released a high pitched moan. Your muscles tensed up as you squeezed your eyes shut tighter than before. You had never felt more pleasure in your life as you came.
You opened your eyes again once you felt the last drop fall. Your eyes went wide and you let out a soft gasp. “Holy fuck, Jeremiah…”
He smirked before placing his forehead against yours. “You did so good,” he grinned.
He brought both of his hands up to your face, cupping both of your cheeks. Before he pressed his lips against yours quickly.
When he pulled away, he asked, “You ready to go? Conrad and them are probably worried we died or something.”
“Yeah,” you giggled. You got off him and sat back down in the passenger seat. You checked your phone and saw that Belly and Taylor had been blowing up your phone.
1K notes · View notes
pure-smut · 2 months
Text
say red.
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featuring: Iwaizumi Hajime x f!reader
contains: academic rivals to lovers, dom!Iwaizumi, rough s*x, degradation, dirty talk, creampie
note: all characters are over 18!
MDNI | 18+ content
word count: 2k
series: 1. say red | 2. say red | 3. say red
masterlist
You’d never paid attention to Iwaizumi Hajime. Just another face in the lecture hall, another voice answering questions, another serious guy with a serious face taking things so seriously.
It’s only when you’re paired together to work on a semester-long project that you pay attention to him for the first time. And wow – he’s fucking annoying.
“We need to meet up more than once every two weeks,” Iwaizumi tells you, frowning at your suggestion. “We won’t get enough done before the deadline.”
“It’ll be fiiiine,” you sigh. “The project barely contributes to our grade. All we need to do is pass.”
Iwaizumi narrows his olive eyes at you, entirely displeased.
“How are you,” he bites out. “… top of the class?”
You give him a sweet smile, throwing up a peace sign.
“Because I’m great, obviously.”
You had somewhat noticed that Iwaizumi’s name was always second below yours whenever test scores were published. It’s clear that’s a sticking point for him because he clenches his teeth so hard, you can see a muscle bouncing in his jaw.
“We’re meeting up twice a week,” Iwaizumi says, standing. When you open your mouth to protest, he gives you a hard look. “That’s final.”
You roll your eyes and shrug.
“Fine, fine.” A grin crawls across your face. “Iwa.”
He shoots you a disgusted look.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What, Iwa? It’s cute.”
Iwaizumi pokes his tongue into his cheek and rolls his eyes skyward.
“Whatever.”
With that, he gathers his bag and stomps out of the lecture hall. Your gaze follows the back of him as he disappears, the smile only slipping off your face when he leaves.
“So annoying,” you mutter to yourself, packing up your own things.
But it’s only until the end the semester. You can grin and bear it that long. Plus, it’s like you said before – the project barely impacts your grades. Iwaizumi might want to force you into way too many boring meetings but you have absolutely no intention of cooperating.
*
Iwaizumi messages you his address and a time to come round to work on the project.
Gotta buy a girl dinner first before you invite her to your bedroom, you message him back. He ignores you.
Like most other students, he lives on campus with a few other roommates. You half-expect to see them when you arrive at Iwaizumi’s but he tells you he’s chosen a day when everyone else is out.
“I need some peace and quiet if I’m dealing with you,” Iwaizumi says.
“Flattered,” you reply.
His room is neat and tidy, a smattering of volleyball trophies on the shelves. You vaguely remember that he’s on the college volleyball team but you didn’t know he’s good enough to have trophies. You smooth your features into something neutral so he doesn’t know you’re impressed.
You both sit at his desk, where Iwaizumi’s already set up notepads, pens and sticky notes.
“You’re prepared,” you remark, eliciting a heavy sigh from Iwaizumi.
“I’m sure it seems that way to someone who doesn’t even bring a pencil to class.”
You swing side to side on his wheely chair as Iwaizumi launches into his plan for the project, talking you through the list of bullet points. You make noncommittal noises, your eyes drifting off.
He has kind of a nice face, you think, your gaze dropping from his short dark hair to his sharp jaw. Iwaizumi’s wearing a t-shirt that stretches across his broad chest, the sleeves tight around his biceps. Damn, he’s pretty built, too.
Iwaizumi continues talking as your mind wanders. You wonder if he’s a good kisser. Hmm, probably too serious for that. Only chaste tongueless kisses and missionary in the dark.
You grin at your own thoughts and Iwaizumi stops talking mid-sentence.
“What are you laughing at?” His brow furrows. “You’re not even fucking listening.”
“Uh, no, not really,” you admit, throwing your hands up in defeat.
“Jesus christ…” Iwaizumi puts his elbows on the desk, digging his palms into his eyes.
He wants to launch himself out of the window. How is it possible that you of all people beat him in class? He freezes when he feels your finger trail over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” Iwaizumi looks up.
“You’re so tense,” you say. You’re not lying – Iwaizumi’s muscles are like boulders. You give his bicep a poke and realise there’s almost no give. “Maybe that’s why you’re taking this so seriously.”
“You’re just taking this too lightly,” he says, frowning.
You’re looking at him weirdly, your eyes locked onto his, and the way you’re touching his arm is making his cheeks feel warm. What the fuck is going on?
Iwaizumi’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard and you smile, knowing you’ve got him. You stand up to move over and put yourself in Iwaizumi’s lap instead. His thighs are as hard as the rest of him and it feels like sitting in an actual chair. You wrap your arms around his neck.
“You’re kind of cute, y’know,” you say, cocking your head.
“Kind of,” he echoes, giving you a flat look. “Thanks.”
Iwaizumi’s hand rests on your thigh despite his unimpressed tone. You give him a sweet smile and trail a finger along his jaw, feeling the slight stubble there.
“Maybe you need some stress relief, hm?” you suggest, dragging your finger down to his hard chest.
“And you’re offering?”
“I thought you were supposed to be smart?” You cock an eyebrow. “Obviously, yes.”
Iwaizumi regards you, eyes sharp, and your breath hitches. Your smile nearly falters but you save it in time. It feels like he’s looking through you, into you. It’s a struggle to hold his gaze but you’ve never been one to back down. So you look right back at him.
Iwaizumi’s eyes soften and you see him smile for the first time. No, he smirks.
“Say red,” he tells you. “And I’ll stop.”
“O-okay.” You’re annoyed at yourself for stammering but something’s changed with Iwaizumi and it’s thrown you off.
“Repeat it back to me.”
“If I say red, you’ll stop,” you tell him and he gives a short nod, satisfied.
“Good.”
Iwaizumi stands abruptly, picking you up with him and throwing you on the bed. You yelp at the sudden movement, bouncing softly against the mattress.
“What-?”
You don’t have time to ask what the fuck is happening before Iwaizumi’s on you. He presses his mouth against yours, kissing you roughly. He pushes his body between your legs, forcing them apart to accommodate his thick frame.
One of Iwaizumi’s hands grabs your hip as the other snakes around your throat, holding you with enough force for you to feel it but not so hard you’re gasping. His soft lips are in contrast to the sharp stubble scratching your skin, his tongue sliding over yours.
Okay, I might have been wrong, you think. There’s nothing chaste about this.
Iwaizumi grinds his bulge against your clothed pussy, now exposed to him as he tugs up your dress. The friction through two layers of fabric is teasing, making your hips buck, desperate for more. You moan into his mouth and he squeezes your throat.
“Needy little slut,” he says roughly.
Iwaizumi’s degrading words only serve to turn you on even more. His voice has completely changed, now deep and throaty and utterly commanding. Iwaizumi keeps one hand around your neck as his other reaches down to unbutton his jeans.
“Is this what you want so badly?” he says as he pulls his cock free.
You gasp as it slaps against your mound, sending a spark of pleasure through you. You try to nod but Iwaizumi has your throat in too tight a grip.
“Use your fucking words,” he spits. “Tell me.”
“Y-yes, I want it. Please, I want it.”
Iwaizumi reaches down and you hear a violent rip. You’re not able to look down, your head fixed in place, but there’s a cool breeze across your exposed pussy. Your mouth drops open as you realise he’s ripped your panties clean off.
Iwaizumi smirks at your reaction.
“You act like a slut, you get treated like one.”
The Iwaizumi you knew before, so serious and studious, is long gone. You look up at him, his eyes feral, and realise you’ve severely underestimated who you’re up against. He lines up the fat head of his cock with your dripping hole.
“Look how fucking wet you are already.” Iwaizumi pushes himself inside you and you give a choked moan at the feel of him stretching you. “You don’t even need me to get you started, do you? You’ll spread your legs for fucking anyone.”
Iwaizumi’s flurry of degradation is making your pussy drool for him, only spurring you both on. But a nugget of defiance forms in your chest, even as tears stick to your lashes.
“This what your needy little pussy wants?” he demands, pushing in deeper to bottom out.
His cock feels so fucking good, dragging against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you to make your whole body feel like it’s on fire, but your determination not to let him take over fully kicks in.
“Y-yes, Iwa,” you breathe out.
Iwaizumi’s jaw clenches.
“I told you not to fucking call me that,” he grits out.
As if to punctuate, he starts to pound at you hard. Every slam pushes you closer to the edge, sending a jolt through your body to the tips of your toes. His large hand around your neck is delicious, pinning you beneath him as he fucks you raw. You sink your nails into his forearm, lustful whimpers falling from your lips.
“S-sorry…” you gasp. “… Iwa.”
Iwaizumi growls, moving faster and setting a brutal pace.
“Fucking brat.”
You don’t have the strength to talk back anymore. Iwaizumi’s cock is pulling you to the edge, making your eyes roll back in your skull as he rips an orgasm from you. Your pussy clenches down like a vice grip around his cock and a moan escapes Iwaizumi’s throat.
“Fuck… fuck…” he groans.
Iwaizumi fights the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, wanting to watch you bounce under him. Your walls are so slick, so hot, so fucking tight. You’re tearing down all his restraint, moaning so sweetly even as his fist is wrapped around your throat. He knows he’s not going to last much longer.
“I’m… gonna cum…” Iwaizumi says, voice hoarse.
“Inside me,” you plead. “Cum inside me, Iwa.”
Your words tip him over the edge.
His grip tightens on your neck, almost making you dizzy, as he thrusts once, burying himself fully. The moan he makes as he comes undone inside you is intoxicating, satisfying in a way you can’t explain. Iwaizumi’s chest heaves as he half-collapses on top of you, his arms shaking as he holds himself up.
Neither of you say anything, breathless and sweat-slicked.
“Well.” You break the silence with a grin. “I dunno about you but I definitely feel better.”
Iwaizumi’s serious face returns as he rolls his eyes, pulling away from you. He tugs a few tissues free from a box on his nightstand, handing them to you first before himself.
“What a gentleman,” you coo, cleaning yourself up.
“It’s polite. I’m not a savage.”
“The way you fuck says different.”
Even though you’ve still got his cum spilling out of you, Iwaizumi’s ears go pink at your comment. He ignores you and buttons his jeans back up. Cute, you think with a smile.
You point at your destroyed underwear.
“And you ruined my panties. That was rude.”
Iwaizumi’s cheeks tint as he blushes harder.
“Yeah, sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll buy you a new pair.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Finished cleaning yourself up, you hop off his bed and straighten your dress. “I’ll just make sure I’m not wearing any next time.”
Iwaizumi stills.
“Next time?”
“Duh.” You put a hand on your hip. “That was great, right? And my head feels totally clear. I think I’m actually ready to listen to your project plan or whatever.”
You take a seat at his desk, hands clasped demurely on your lap and smiling sweetly.
“Twice a week you said?”
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cleopatra-x · 1 year
Text
The Garden (18+)
Pairing | Aemond Targaryen x female reader
Summary | An heated argument in the gardens with your husband leads to something else.
Warnings | SEXUAL CONTENT - MINORS DNI; oral (f receiving), exhibitionism, spanking, rimming (f receiving), hair pulling, aegon making a small appearance
word count | 1.5k
Notes | The reader is a Martell but you may imagine her however you see fit. Please don't put a community label on this.
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“You are unbelievable,” you grumble loud enough for him to hear, stalking away from your husband, to annoyed to be in his presence.
It’s been a year since you and your husband have been wed. Leaving your home in Dorne was not easy, but with time Kings Landing became your second home. Your marriage with Prince Aemond has been a dream come true. Despite him being cold in the beginning. He was always understanding of you, caring, and catering to your every need.
But sometimes he did things you hated. Like, making decisions without consulting you. The both of you are a pair, you felt you should be included.  
As you enter the gardens, you are greeted by the fresh scent of flowers and the sound of rustling leaves. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, the sky transforming into a canvas of vibrant colors.
You could hear his heavy footsteps catch up to yours, “Stop making a scene,” He gripped your forearm, causing you to face him.
“Let’s go back inside.” He attempts to stay calm, although you could tell he was ready to pounce.
You scoffed, releasing your arm from his tortuous grip. “It’s like you to back down from a fight.”
Not being able to stop your rouge tongue, your blood boiling at the fact that he’s always so calm. You wanted him to lose control.
He fixes you with a curious stare and tilts his head to the side, studying you intently as you stand there. “You want a fight?”
You can’t help but let your eyes wander his prominent Adam’s apple as he swallows heavily, framed by the shades of orange and red hat colored the sky. Whether it was just from him sleeping, reading, or doing basic activities, the very sight of your husband always made our stomach churn. You were obsessed.
Aemond takes a step closer towards you, and you put your hands on your hips, standing your ground. You glance around the deserted garden, knowing it was most inappropriate to be this close in public, even as man and wife.
“You are clearly aroused by this, my love.” His voice noticeably dropped an octave as he corned you.
My love. A static hot shiver slides down your spine. Your arousal seeping out of you, to trail down your thighs. You look down at the ground as a silent confirmation, suddenly not having the courage to look him in the eye.
His grin widens into that rare, arrogant face he typically reserves for when you're pleading for him in bed.
“Turn around” he commands, his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for your movement.
“Aem-,” you begin, your eyes widening in pure shock. Aemond was not the kind to do such things in public. Everything was saved for the privacy of your martial chambers.
He dares to take another step closer, your breasts now pressed up against his chiseled chest. “don’t make me repeat myself, dōnus riñus.” Sweet girl.
You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, before turning your body away from him. Your chest heaved heavily at the thought of what’s to come. You could not believe that he would touch you where anyone could see.
You grip onto the wooden edge of a picnic bench; you knew that you should prepare yourself before he ruts into you.
You hear your husband drop to his knees behind you, causing you to turn your head to glance at him. His eyepatch abandoned onto the stone ground, the sapphire that sat in his empty socket, shining in the sunlight. You clenched down on nothing at the sight.
More often than not, Aemond would bring you to release with his tongue or fingers, but never from behind. You would always look upon his face. You audibly swallowed, opening your mouth to protest.
“Do I have to keep telling you, wife?” A slap to your backside caused you to let out a high-pitched, breathy whimper. You chew on your lip once again, before turning back around.
You feel him lift your dress up, settling it at your hips. Both of his hands grabbed your ass cheeks, pulling them apart and exposing you.  The wind grazing against your most sensitive parts had you whimpering. Your hips rolled against the air, seeking out any kind of friction. He groaned from behind you, squeezing your cheeks.
“You’re fucking dripping.” His finger ran up the back of your thigh until it ghosted over your cunt, collecting some of your slick. He popped a finger in his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, making sure it was nice and clean. “Gods, I can’t get enough of how you taste.”
You gripped the edge of the bench, trying to compose yourself. 
Aemond slapped your bottom again, making you jolt forward. He placed a hand on your lower back, bending you over the bench. 
You let out a shocked moan the second you felt Aemond lick up from your sopping wet cunt all the way up to your puckered, brown hole. You squeezed your eyes closed, embarrassment flooding through you as you moaned loudly. It was always lewd when Aemond fucked you, but this was new and entirely improper.
A stinging slap was served to your backside, causing your eyes to snap open. “You know you like it.” Aemond mumbled behind you, the vibrations of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
“Aemond, please.” Your eyes rolled in the back of your head just as the tip of his tongue circled your tight hole. Your husband is a patient man, he could tease you for hour on end, if he truly wanted. It was dirty and disgusting, yet you feel your stomach clenching from the extreme pleasure.
You were mewling freely now and attempted to sneak a hand between your soaked thighs to relieve the ache. Aemond slapped it away immediately, a silent warning to not do it again.
Aemond finally wrapped his lips around your pearl. “Oh- yes!” You reached a hand around and held into the back of his head, grinding your hips back against his exploring tongue. 
“Mm, mhm.” He couldn’t say much, but Aemond was showing just how much he loved the taste of you. Letting his tongue dip into your cunt for a moment before licking up towards your ass, getting it all nice and wet with his spit. 
Aemond was slurping, licking, and sucking. He was doing everything just right and you felt as if you were in heaven. You aren’t certain how he can much air with his face pressed so deeply against you, but you cared naught. Not when you felt this good.
The hand you had in Aemond’s hair pulled at silver strands. “So good, Aemond, so fucking good!” 
It was hard to keep your balance and not fall straight to your knees. The pleasure was growing and you could feel your release fast approaching, making your toes curl in your shoes.
Aemond knew you were close too, and he wanted to feel you spill all over his face. He pulled your folds apart and suckled your pearl back into his mouth, shaking his head side to side, letting his teeth barely graze it. 
Your pearl throbbed in his mouth as your stomach caved in, your wanton moans loud and clear for anyone to hear. You were humping his face, needing everything he had to offer.
“I-Im close!” You were afraid that Aemond would stop, edge you until you couldn’t take it anymore. But he let you speak, kept sucking at your pearl like his life depended on it, making obscene slurping noises. 
You squeezed your eyes shut and slammed your hand on the bench, spilling yourself on his tongue. It was taking its time running through you, letting you feel every bit of pleasure it had to give. “Fuck, fuck!” 
He drunk every last bit of your spend, groaning at the taste. “So delicious.” He spanked you again before standing on his feet again.
Your brain turned the mush, vision blurry, barely registering your husband’s words. Your thighs shook as he pulled your dress back down. He snaked his arms around you, helping you stand up straight.
Aemond wiped his mouth before pressed a loving kiss to your temple, parting his lips to speak.
“Yet, you call me depraved.”
Both you and Aemond turn to the unwanted voice behind you and you were met with eyes of his brother, Aegon.
A pang of cold sweat ran through you as your heart dropped to your gut. Has he been there the whole time? Did he see everything? Will he tell everyone?
You watched as Aemond’s lips pursed into a tine line. If looks could kill, you were sure Aegon Targaryen would be long gone.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Aemond seethed. “Before I kill you.”
Aegon drunkenly giggled before taking a sip of wine from his giblet. He turned his back not before mumbling, “Can’t even enjoy a stroll in the garden these days.”
You wished you could vanish into a hole at that very moment.
1K notes · View notes
mpileons · 7 months
Text
behind the goal posts | alexia putellas x reader
chapter 1 <
Summary: Everyone knows Alexia Putellas. Star football player and the face of Barcelona. However, what they don’t know is that she is been in a secret relationship for years, and that relationship is slowly slipping out of her hands.
Word Count: 2.8K
A/N: i got a bit too carried w/ the angst.. oops. and i didnt proof read this so i apologize for any inevitable mistakes :)
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Chapter Two …
Present Day – 
As 12AM hits, I find myself still waiting for Ale to come home from training. I decide to call my bestfriend to prevent my thoughts from further spiralling. “Hey chica, wait what's up?” my best friend's voice blares through my headphones as a frown etches onto her face, sensing that something is off with me. “Did she do something?” I start to shake my head because I know if I speak my voice will betray me and all my anxieties will be laid bare for her to see. It’s not that I don't want her to see, more that I don't want to acknowledge any of this. I’d like to believe that Alexia and I are still in that honeymoon, that she’ll come home early and shower me with kisses while we make dinner,that we will go back to watching films while our limbs intertwined till we didn't know whose body is whose. I know deep down that we have derailed so far away, we are slowly plummeting into an abyss of resentment and I don't know how to save us. “Y/N please talk to me” Kira’s voice brings me back to earth, I see the anxiety increasing tenfold on her face as she watches me intently. “I don't know," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper as I fiddle with the strings of my hoodie. 
"It's just... Ale was out late last night, and she's still not home. And she's been so distant lately. It’s like I am living with a ghost,  I can't shake this feeling that something's wrong." I rush out as quickly as humanly possible, as if I say it fast enough my brain won’t think about it and therefore it won’t become real.
“That’s strange, have you brought it up with her?” Kira's voice held a gentle probing, her concern evident. But then again, I couldn't fault her for that. Our nightly chats had become a lifeline, teetering on the edge of panic. It's strange, really. Ale used to be the one to ease these moments, but now, it's her actions that stir them up.
Present Day | Alexia’s Point of View —
As I step into the dimly lit apartment, the sharp remnants of the night at the club are still echoing in my mind. However, the laughter and camaraderie of my teammates felt distant now, replaced by a hollow emptiness.
I moved through our shared apartment with a sense of detachment, a space that was once so familiar now feels like a ghost town. The weight of exhaustion drags at my limbs as I head towards our room. But as I pass by the closed door, I can hear a snippet of a conversation that catches my attention, drawing me to a sudden halt.
"... it's strange how Ale used to calm me down from these attacks and now it is her that is causing them," Y/N's voice, tinged with worry and frustration, drifted through the door, sending a pang of unexpected guilt coursing through my chest.
For a moment, I stood rooted to the spot, Y/N’s words hanging heavy in the air like an accusation. The weight of her evident disappointment bores down on me like a crushing weight, quickly suffocating and stealing every word out of my mouth. How had I become the source of Y/N's pain, when did this happen?
Without another word, I retreated to the living room where the walls feel like they are closing in around me as the echoes of Y/N's words reverberated in my mind.  Hours passed in agonising silence, the tension in the apartment thickening with each passing moment. And then, as if on cue, the dam burst.
Present Day | Y/N’s Point of View —
I took tentative steps to the living room to check if Ale had come home, the faint scent of alcohol hanging in the air further proving that she’s back.  
As I rounded the corner, my gaze fell upon Alexia slumped on the couch with her head bowed and a half-empty bottle of whiskey clenched tightly in her hand. Her usually vibrant eyes were now dull and unfocused, the lines of exhaustion etched into her features.
A sudden surge of anger and frustration takes over my body. I naively thought that maybe today would be different, that today Ale would come to me instead of seeking comfort from a bottle.
But as I stood in front of Ale and truly take in the sight in front of me, a different surge of emotions come. I am quickly overwhelmed with a wave of guilt as I watch the woman I love more than anything crumble beneath the weight of her own self-destructive tendencies. No matter what I try to do or say, nothing can seem to get through the indestructible walls she had built around herself, the walls she once used to let down around me. 
All of a sudden, I couldn't muster up any anger towards the woman who firmly held my heart in her grasp. I could shove aside my own emotions, even if it meant indulging in self-destructive tendencies, just to care for her. 
"Ale," My voice was soft, barely more than a whisper as if my words would fracture her even further. I slowly approached the couch, my heart aching with a pain I couldn't name. "What happened tonight?" I asked while tentatively taking the bottle out of her grasp.
Alexia's head snapped up at the sound of my voice, her eyes glazed and distant as she struggled to focus on me, an effect from her excessive drinking that has become more familiar to me than I’d like. "Nothing," she muttered, her voice slurred with the aftereffects of alcohol. "Just... just another night out with the girls."
My eyes furrow with concern, I try to find any piece of the woman I loved, the woman who would buy me new flowers immediately after the previous flowers died, the woman who would wake up earlier before practice just to spend time with me, the woman who would bring me food to the library while I was drowning in assignments. But all I could see was the shell of that woman. All I could was emptiness and it was killing me. She was killing herself while clutching my heart within her hands, bringing me down with her. 
My voice trembled with disappointment as I settled beside Alexia on the couch, the tension between us crackling like electricity. The atmosphere in the room felt heavy, suffused with the weight of unspoken grievances and broken promises. "You promised, Ale," I began, my tone beginning to edge with unbearable frustration as I decide to confront her broken vows. "You swore you'd try to get better, that you wouldn't let this control you anymore. That you would try for me, for us."
Alexia's eyes flashed with a mix of shame and defiance, her fingers stealing the bottle from my hands and tightening around the bottle in her hand as she clearly tried to brace herself for the impending conflict. The lines etched on her face increased tenfold. "I know," she admitted, her voice strained with the evident weight of her own struggles. "But it's not as simple as just trying, Y/N. You don't understand how hard it is. You just don’t."
My patience waned quickly as I met Alexia's gaze, my own resolve beginning to falter under the weight of our unresolved issues. "I'm trying to understand, Alexia," I defiantly retorted, my voice rising slightly with frustration. "But how can I when you won't let me in? You keep shutting me out, pushing me away every time I try to help."
A spark of anger ignited within Alexia's eyes as she rose to meet my challenge, her own frustrations bubbling to the surface. "Maybe if you actually understood what I'm going through, you'd realise that I'm not doing this to hurt you," she shot back, her voice tinged with bitterness. "I'm doing this because I can't bear to see you disappointed in me again."
The raw emotion in Alexia's words further broke my heart, the sting of guilt mixing with her own simmering anger. "I know, but you promised, Alexia," I murmured, my tone quiet  but sharp with anger, "It just seems like you don't care about keeping your word anymore. You're drowning yourself in alcohol, and you're dragging us down with you."
I can see Alexia's gaze harden, her own frustration boiling over as she shot back once again, Never one to back down. “Don't act like you're perfect, Y/N. You're always on my case, like you have it all figured out. But guess what? You don't. You never have."
I clench my jaw as I fight to keep my temper in check, I know that Alexia isnt in the right state for this discussion, but her words hold some flicker of truth which is why the words spill out despite my best efforts. "I may not understand everything you're going through, but at least I'm trying. What about you, Ale? Are you even trying anymore, or have you just given up once again?"
The accusation struck a nerve, and Alexia's temper flared, her voice rising to match my intensity. "Of course, I'm trying!" she exclaimed, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "But it's not enough for you, is it? Nothing I do is ever enough!"
My eyes flash with hurt and indignation while my voice trembles with emotion. "That's not true, Ale," I protest, my heart aching at the sight of the woman I adore unravelling right before my eyes. "I just want you to be happy, but I can't stand by and watch you destroy yourself. I can't do it anymore when it is destroying me further knowing I can’t help you despite my best attempts to."
Tears welled in Alexia's eyes as she struggled to contain her rising emotions, the weight of their argument bearing down on her like a crushing weight. "I don't know how to be happy anymore, Y/N," she admitted, her voice breaking with despair. "I feel like I'm drowning, and I can't find a way out."
The distance between us grew with each passing minute, each second driving a deeper wedge between our fractured hearts. And during the chaos of our bitter exchange, I just had a sinking feeling that my love might not be enough to save us from the impending darkness that I know will consume us completely, sooner or later.
Exhausted and emotionally drained, my voice immediately softened, a tremor of uncertainty lacing my words as I try to grind the words I thought I’d never say out loud, not to Alexia, not even in a million years or in a hundred different universes did I think I’d say this to her.. "Maybe... maybe we need some time apart," I suggest, the weight of the admission heavy on my tongue.
Alexia's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in disbelief at the suggestion. "A break?" she echoed, the word heavy with resignation and a hint of desperation.
I nod, my own heart aching at the realisation that our relationship might be hanging by a thread. "Just... for a little while," I murmur, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "To figure things out."
6 Months Ago | Alexia’s Point of View —
As the sun set over the horizon, casting hues of pink and gold across the sky, I led Y/N to a secluded spot in the park since I decided to surprise her with a special outing to a drive-in cinema. I see her eyes widen in surprise at the sight of twinkling fairy lights strung between the trees and a soft glow emanating from a cluster of candles.
With a nervous but determined smile, I take Y/N's hand and lead her to a cozy spot in front of the car. We start to settle onto a blanket spread out in the back of the car, the air filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the distant sound of birds chirping.
As we cuddle together under the starlit sky, the screen flickers to life with the opening scenes of "La La Land," Y/N's favorite film, I had put that somewhere in the depths of my mind when she told me, knowing it will somehow be important later on.
During an especially poignant moment in the film, I reach into a nearby picnic basket and pull out a carefully crafted scrapbook that took me longer than I’d like to admit. After all I am athlete not an artsy person. But for her, it’s all worth it.
I watch as she curiously flips through the pages, her eyes widening in surprise and delight as she sees photos of our many movie nights together, interspersed with handwritten notes and film strips capturing precious moments we’ve shared over the last few months.
My hands start to lightly tremble while I intertwine Y/N's hand with mine, as I feel her hand fitting perfectly into mine, a warmth spreads through me, comforting the trembles that threaten to give away my nerves. "Y/N," I start, my voice barely above a whisper but laced with the depth of my feelings, "I never imagined that one person could fuel my heart with such love and devotion, I can’t even imagine my life without by my side and I ..."
Y/N's eyes meet mine, shimmering with unshed tears of happiness. Without a word, her gentle nod speaks volumes, affirming the depth of her love and commitment. "Yes, Ale," she murmurs, her voice a soft caress against the night air, "I choose you, now and forever."
Present day | Y/N’s Point of View —
Before I can even take a step forward, a familiar blonde head of hair envelops me, momentarily throwing off my balance. "Geez, Leah, trying to knock me over?" I chuckle, returning the embrace of my lifelong friend. Football was never my thing before Ale, but Leah and I go way back to our days in the primary school astronomy club, and our bond has only grown stronger since then. Proving our friendship to be stronger than any time zone or country.
"How do you manage to shrink every time I see you? Is there something in the water in Barca?" Leah teases as she takes my luggage from my grasp and leads the way to her car. I just shake my head at her usual antics, gazing out at the Heathrow Airport parking lot. London. I haven’t been back home in years, never felt the need to with Ale around, but now that I've lost her, it feels like I've lost my home along the way as well. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, leaving me feeling nauseous. In just a few days, I've lost everything that mattered.
Hours later, after battling the infamous London traffic, we finally arrive at my flat. It's a sad time capsule of my past life. Remnants of old friendships and memories linger in every corner, a stark reminder that while I've changed, the world around me has kept on spinning. That time waits for no one, and as I sink deeper into my thoughts, Leah's concerned voice breaks through the silence. "Are we going to talk about it, or are we gonna keep pretending like nothing's happened?" she asks, her honesty cutting through the tension. I join her on the couch, resting my head on her shoulder with a heavy sigh. "I don’t know," I admit, uncertainty weighing heavily on my mind.
“Cmon, as your favourite bestfriend I think i deserve more honesty than that.” She tries to lightly joke, but I know her words hold some level of honestly. And the words hit me harder than I expected, and for a moment, I find myself at a loss for words. She's always been there for me, through the good times and the bad, but this... this feels different. It's not just a bump in the road; it's a complete upheaval of everything I thought I knew. I know nothing anymore.
"I know," I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... it's all so overwhelming, you know? I thought I had everything figured out, but now... now I don't know what to do."
Leah quickly wraps an arm around me, pulling me closer in a comforting embrace. "It's okay not to have all the answers," she reassures me, her voice soft but firm. "Just take it one step at a time. We'll figure it out together. You still have me no matter what. You know that.”
I nod, grateful for her words of wisdom. But even as I try to take comfort in her presence, a nagging feeling of unease lingers at the back of my mind. How do you move forward when everything you once knew has been shattered right in front of you? Where do you even begin?
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catsteeth · 5 months
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The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog
Sandor Clegane x reader
+:✿ Chapter - 8 ✿:+ Moon Door.
1-2-3-4-5-6-7-_-9
Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 
CW: MDNI, NSFW themes, VIOLENCE, misogyny, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage, 
A/N: This is so late I'm so sorry yall- I was sick :-( 
Word Count: 3398
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✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧
You sat in a carriage as it rocked back and forth. You couldn’t help thinking of the first time you rode to Kings Landing with your father. And now you are going home. looked in front of you and saw the face of Petyr Baelish. That same twisted smirk he always had. 
You turned your face away from him quickly. You tried to lift the blind from the window of the carriage but Petyr stopped you, 
“Best you don’t, my Dear.” He said, his hand on yours, “If someone would see you they would turn you into the Lannisters.” You didn’t know which was worse, Lannisters or what scraps were left of your family in the Eyrie. 
You pulled your hand away from his, “The knights and guards of the Vale will know me.” You huffed.
“That may well be true, but that is why they have sworn themselves to our house.” You held back a disgusted frown at him, referring to your house as ‘Our House’, “They are sworn to keep you safe, even if that means to lie. To say they’ve no idea where you are.”
“Does Lyssa know I am coming.” You asked as you looked down at your hands in your lap, you picked at the skin around your nails.
“She knows I went looking for you, she knows I would only return with you.”  He grabbed hold of your hand. His consistent advances made you feel sick, but also, think of Sandor. Like what he’d have done if he saw this. “I would not have ceased my search for you til I found you.” 
“And how does she feel about that?” You asked, ignoring his advances.
“Should she not feel happy? Contented her husband wishes to see her own flesh and  blood safe?” He said with a smirk
“You see a particular side of Lyssa.” You said as you repositioned yourself uncomfortably in your seat.
“She has always been predisposed towards me.” You tried to conceal yet another disgusted expression, “It would be only fitting she saves her best self for me.”
“She's like a coin. One side is an entirely different being than the other.” That was true, she often switched from hot to cold within an instant. You always thought it was cause she was mad. It grew tiresome after some time.
“May I be curious? When you fled, what is it that you fled from, and what is it that you were fleeing to?” He asked, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.
“I fled my marriage. I was fleeing for my family.” Technically the last bit wasn’t a lie. Which made it easier for you to sound convincing. 
“I see, to tell you the truth, that only makes my curiosity greater. Ser Cole told me you were not… cooperative in his efforts to bring you to me.” You smiled to yourself, stabbing a knight is not what you’d call cooperative either. 
“I don’t trust so easily. Any man could dress in silver plates and tell me he’s a knight.” You said, “And truth be told I do not see you as family.” You said leaning back into the uncomfortable cushion of the carriage.
“And what do you see me as?” He asked, his grip on your hand tightening 
You ignored him. “I want to see my family. My mother and my brother.” Not technically a lie either, only not in the way he thinks.
“I wouldn’t think you’d wish to see Lyssa. After what you’d said.” His grip loosened,
“Our blood is our blood, our name is our name.” You said, with no emotion.
“I must admit that is not all I am curious about. You fled in the midst of a battle, a great war. Not one person saw you, not one knight. That is all without mentioning that you managed to flee without a scratch to you. Completely unharmed. It would seem almost impossible without help. Strong help.” He questioned you,
“Lika is a strong horse, and fast. And I, a skilled rider.” You responded quickly,
“So I hear.” He smirked.
“Now I must be curious.” You said, “You described Tyrion bereft, positively. In your words.” You perched your lips slightly and looked down, somewhat saddened by your own words.
“He is. I have no reason to lie to you on such a matter.” He said, his smirk disappearing. 
“Tell it then, all of it.” Your eyes are sharp, and cold.
“Why burden yourself with another man's madness.” He asked, almost immediately annoyed by the question.
“To torment myself with my own guilt I suppose.” You shook your head,
“He was injured in the battle.” He huffed.
“Badly?” You interrupted
“Not as badly as they say. Deeply cut across his face.” He motioned a slash across his face, “Day after the battle, he demanded the city be combed for you. He was convinced that you were taken by some Baratheon men, that you might be in the city. Dead or alive he wanted you found. Once the city was clear of any sign of you he became convinced you were kidnapped, soon to be held for ransom.” You looked back down to your nails you picked at. Feeling guilty, but not enough to go back. “You certainly convinced him of your loyalty.” He chimed in, “Or perhaps he underestimated you.” 
“Perhaps both.”
As you approached the Eyrie, you were stopped when it was time to walk to the Bloody Gate. 
Petyr stepped out first, offering you his hand as you stepped out after him. You took it reluctantly.
Reminding yourself to play the part. 
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
Meanwhile, Sandor had been captured by the Brotherhood Without Banners. 
While he was taken to an undisclosed location with a bag over his head, he could hear the banter of the men talking. But the sounds of them could not drown out the anxiety he had over you. 
A big part of him wanted to push you out of his mind, to focus on what was happening right then and now. Focus on getting out of this situation. But he couldn’t ignore the pit of dread in his stomach. 
His thoughts kept coming, over and over again, “where is she, is she okay, has anyone seen her?” 
It made him feel a certain kind of frustrated anxiety, knowing he couldn’t be near you, to be sure you were alright.
He was finally taken to some filthy tavern with an even filthier bag on his head. 
“What an uncommonly large person, how does someone capture such an uncommonly large person?” He heard while he was blinded by the bag over his head, until it was stripped. “Ah! Not a man at all- A Hound!” Thoros said, a man Sandor recognized instantly. 
“Thoros, the fuck you doing here?” He questioned with furrowed brows. 
“Drinking and talking too much, the usual.” Thoros said drunk.
Another man who had captured Sandor spoke up, “There was another with him… A woman.” Sandors gaze dropped and went towards the man who spoke up, a soft groan leaving his lips. 
“You sure about that?” Thoros asked, taking another sip of his ale.
“Oh yes, no mistaking that.” The man said as the others snickered, making Sandor groan a little louder. He hated men talking about you, it made him want to break their jaw so they’d talk a little less.
“Your woman I’d assume, hard to believe but stranger things in this world.” Sandor rolled his eyes and groaned even louder. “Oh well, still a pretty prize, Lads!” Thoros shouted, making the men who captured him cheer.
Sandor saw two boys leaving the tavern, and behind them, a girl, the girl You loved so well and helped escape.
“Girl!” He shouted, stopping Arya Stark, “What in seven hells are you doing with a Stark bitch?” He questioned Thoros.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
You had made it past the Bloody Gate, the Knights knew who you were even though Petyr introduced you as his niece, Lennora. They did not question you, and allowed you in. Ser Donnel Waynwood going as far to welcome you back as Lennora. 
After twenty more miles of travel, you’d finally arrived at the Eyrie. It felt like a small comfort at first. A sight you once truly believed you’d never see again. 
Stepping into the main room you noticed Lyssa seated on the throne. Seated where you should have been.
“Sweet child,” She called to you, rising from your throne “Come…” She said as ascended the stairs coming towards you, until she wrapped her arms around you. “My flesh and blood.” She said feigning happiness at your presence.
“Aunt Lyssa,” You said, feigning the same joy.
“You’re dressed in rags, my sweetling.” She said as she examined you, 
“Couldn’t stand to wear Lannister colors any longer.” You said cleverly, avoiding further questioning, distracting her with her own biases.
“Of course you couldn’t.” She gripped onto your shoulders tightly, “Those monsters tried to marry you off to that imp. The very one who killed my husband, your father.” Her grip on your shoulders tightened, “He did not force himself onto you did he?” Her eyes darted to yours, staring deepening and intensely in them.
“No- of course not. We had not wed yet-” You stammered to explain, caught off guard by such a question.
“Still, you cannot trust such men now can you?” She said, her grip loosening finally.
“No, you cannot.”  You said softly
Her hands ran from your shoulders to your hands, holding them tightly, “You’ve had a hard, and brave journey, my sweetling. You must bathe and dress.” She squeezed your hands once more before releasing them.
“Yes, Aunt Lyssa.” You said, slightly proud of yourself for containing such composure.
You nodded to your aunt and turned to leave, Petyr smirked at you as you passed him to take the back steps to your chambers. 
It made your stomach turn. 
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
In the hideout of the Brotherhood, Sandor was tried for his crimes. Trial by combat. 
As he fought, with brutality and efficiency, he could only think of you. He needed to cut this man down, to cut him down and get back to you. To find you. 
Soon enough however, he did. Nearly cutting the man in half. Lord Beric Dondarrion was dead, but only for a moment. 
As Arya shouted out and screamed, wanting him to be killed and tried for the murder of her friend.
Sandor couldn’t give this too much attention however as Beric arose from the dead before everyone. Within the cave. 
After such a scene, Sandor was pardoned and set free. 
“You’re pardoned, free to go. But all your gold is ours, to support the cause. It says it right there on that paper, once the wars over you’ll be repaid.” The man said, giving him paper pardoning him of his crimes.
“Piss on that! You’re nothing but thieves.” He barked loudly as he threw the paper onto the ground.
“We’re outlaws, you’re lucky we didn’t kill you, or go after that girl of yours.” Some man said, stupidly.
“Try it, archer, and I’ll shove those arrows right up your arse.” He said, his voice darkening. He couldn’t stand anyone speaking of you, even if they didn’t know who you were specifically. 
“You can’t let him go! He’s a murderer!” Arya screamed as Sandor’s head was bagged again as he was led out of the cave. 
“Not in the eyes of God. Go in peace Clegane, the Lord of Light is not done with you yet.” Beric said, as Sandor was led out. 
But Sandor did not go far. 
The sun had gone and the night had come. It dawned on him you could be anywhere. And he would have no way of knowing where. 
That was when he heard the brotherhood yelling out for Arya, and soon saw the girl running through the forest he was hiding in.
That’s when he realized, If he couldn’t find you on his own, he’d find another way, and he’d get some gold out of it as well.
He grabbed Arya as she ran away. Covering her mouth as she tried to scream. 
“Kick all you want, wolf girl. Won’t do you no good.” He said, dragging her off.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
While you bathed, you sat in the warm water, sinking deeply into the warmth around you. You closed your eyes, you tried your best to breathe, and calm yourself. 
Sandor was a strong man, a man who cut down five men, a man who cut his way through a riot, and then four men after that. You shouldn’t worry. It would be silly for you to worry. But still you did. 
As you looked at your body in the water, you could see the bruises left by Sandor. By his hands and his mouth. The thumb prints on your hips and the love bites on your sides and breasts. You ran your fingers over the prints, applying a bit of pressure to feel the lovely ache. It was like he was still with you.
You ran your other hand down between your legs, your other hand pressed down on the bruise again, to feel that ache, to feel like he was still with you.
However you heard a noise come from behind the door of the bathing chambers door. 
Uneasy, you got out of the bath, and dried yourself quickly and you clothed yourself in a thick, warm, robe. 
You opened the door, with caution, still uneasy. You stepped into the hallway, you hadn’t seen anyone. Even though you saw no one, you still felt uneasy. Like you were being watched.
You felt that familiar cold air flow through the castle, it only made your anxiety worse. ‘Tea would help,’ you thought. So you made your way to the kitchens, the only way to get to that from where you were however, was through the throne room,
As you stepped into the large room, you could feel the breeze worsen, the air colder, and the sound of wind louder. The moon doors were open, you knew what they sounded like better than anyone. 
What was worse, Lyssa was standing over them. Staring down into the nothingness below.
“How pleasant it must feel, to be clean, and back in your Arryn clothes.” She said, not looking at you, still peering into the vast nothingness below the Eyrie.
“Quite pleasant, Aunt Lyssa.” You said, cautiously 
“It was so kind of Baelish to return you to us. I asked him, why, why he wished for you back. It doesn’t make much sense, you’re the only thing that could possibly stand in the way of his position here in the Vale. Of Robin's position in the vale. And yet he feels responsible for you” Her voice felt sharp and unsteady,
“Lyssa-” You tried to begin
“Why does he feel responsible for you?” She interrupted you, her gaze shifting towards you quickly.
“I am your blood, I am part Tully-” You tried your best to calm her, to reason with her.
“Yes, Eloire Tully, The sister who hated him. Toyed with him, cruel and arrogant Eloire. You look just like her, are you toying with him too?” She said, her eyes were unhinged, and she stepped closer and closer to you.
An anger sparked inside you, “Don’t speak of my mother-” Your eyes and voice filled with disdain
“Did you fuck him is that it? Like those whores in his pleasure houses-”
You interrupted her “That is a vile accusation-” 
And she interrupted you, “So you know the vile things they do, the vile things he lets them do to him.” She said as she pulled at your robe, exposing your breast and your side, she could see the large bruise on your side and one on your breast. 
“I knew it.” She said her eyes widening,
You covered yourself quickly “Lyssa,” 
“Who did it? Who did you let ruin you, you whore!? If it wasn’t Tyrion who did it!? Unless you lied to me!” She began to grab you, grab your arms tightly.
You tried your best to pull away, “I fell from my horse, Lyssa-” You exclaimed 
“You think I’m a blind fool? Who did it? Petyr? Petyr did that do you? It makes perfect sense, You're no better than those whores in those pleasure houses, to him.” She exclaimed even louder, grabbing at you harder. 
“He never touched me-” You pleaded,
“Then who did it-”
“I fell off my horse!” 
“Lying whore!” She held onto your tightly and tried to push you towards the open moon doors, however the struggle between you and her was almost evenly matched. So she pulled out a dagger, raising it. But you were able to hold her arm off, “Why couldn’t you have stayed with them? Stayed far and gone! I won’t let you have him! You know what happens when people get in the way of Petyr and me?” She screamed at you as she continuously tried to push you towards the open moon doors, now at knife point. “My husband- your father, I killed him, all for me and Petyr!” She screamed, her admission however sparked a new kind of rage in you as you struggled back harder. No longer wishing to escape her grasp but to throw her into the moon doors instead.
“Lyssa.” Petyr said from the doorway, “Let her go,” He said calmly. Making the both of you halt,
“You want her? This ungrateful brat? I have lied for you and killed for you! Why did you bring her here? Why?” She sobbed
“I’ll send her away, I swear it.” Petyr said, 
Lyssa threw you onto the ground, cutting your forearm with the dagger she had in her hand. She dropped it to the ground as she sobbed.  
“My sweet wife. Silly wife.” He said as walked towards her holding her in his arms. You began to pick yourself up, your arm still bleeding.
“My whole life, I have only loved one woman.” He said, as she smiled. “Your sister.” He said as he pushed her into the moon doors.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
The next morning, Sandor and Arya had begun their journey north. Sandor had hoped that you had done as he said and made your way there was well. 
As he ate, he offered a bit of the food to Arya, who simply pouted and looked away from the food. It reminded him a bit of you. 
“Sulk all you want. Truth is you’re lucky, you don’t want to be alone out here, girl. Someone worse than me would find you.” He said, his voice gentler than it was the last day.
“There’s no one worse than you.” She spit at him.
“You never knew my brother. Once killed a man for snoring. Plenty worse than me, there's men that like to beat little girls, men who like to rape them. Save your cousin from some of them.`` He said lightly, 
“You’re lying.” Arya said in disbelief. 
“Ask her. You’ll be seeing her soon enough, you just ask her who came back for her during the riots.” He restated confidently.
“Is that the Blackwater?” Arya asked looking at a large river they approached, 
“Blackwater? Where do you think I’m taking you girl?” He asked
“Back to King's Landing, Joffrey and the Queen? My cousin?”
“Fuck Joffrey, fuck the Queen. That’s the red fork, I’m taking you to the Twins.” He sounded somewhat offended.
“But why?”
“Because your mother and brother will be there, they’ll pay for you, and maybe even your cousin will be there.”
“Why would they be at the Twins?”
“Those outlaws you love so much never told you? The whole countrysides yapping about it. Your uncle is marrying one of the Frey girls. Your cousin’s probably heard about it too, she’ll be heading there.” 
“Why do you care if she’ll be there?” She asked, almost annoyed by his constant mentioning of you.
Sandor ignored her question, “Quit your yapping, and we might make it for the wedding.” 
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NOTE: Hey all you cool cats and kittens,  I wish I had one of those iconic A03 author excuse notes like I got hit by a bus or was getting my PHD and that's why this chapter is late, but I don’t I was just a little sick and binged TV. But we are here now, this chapter felt a little clunky and it was definitely a challenge getting Sandor and Y/N to still feel connected to the same story. I am very excited for what I have planned in the coming chapters.  K love you, xoxo Bambi ꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱ Beloved Tags:  @dontfollowjuststuff @helpmeescapethisreality
@merfic
@Broadsdrinkwhisky
@the-queen-of-sorrows
@eddiesbongwater
@not-neverland06
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@wyvernnest
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whateverloomis · 5 months
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Hi! Can you write about a reader who is a traditional goth x billy and stu?
Shes the new girl at school and she seems cool so tate invites her over to the group and when they see her they are like: 😲😍
Ugh, I'm so glad you requested this. Billy and Stu would so be into alt. people, I just know it. (Totally not saying that because I'm alt. myself *cough*)
Note: Scroll to the bottom for extra content before reading 🖤
Warnings: SMUT, infidelity, making out, fingering, double penetration, outdoor s3x, smoking (weed,) AFAB reader (she/her,) use of YN, unedited
Word count: 2.5k (Got carried away lmao)
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"Dude, what's Tatum doing with the goth chick?" Stu asked Billy, as if he had a clue who Tatum even hung out with anymore. Sidney had always been her best friend and Tatum wouldn't ever replace her, but she was always picking someone new to introduce to the group until some kind of drama happened and she unfriended them.
"Fuck should I know." Billy answered, trying to seem uninterested in the topic, but Stu knew better. He had caught his friend taking a peek or two at the new girl when she had arrived the week prior as a transfer student.
"She's hot as fuck man, I bet we could tag team her-" -- "Keep it down, would you?" Billy whispered, elbowing Stu to avoid Sid and Randy from listening.
The boys had done it a few times before. They picked someone they both liked and had a little fun with them, and this new girl was definitely first in line the moment they saw her.
Tatum approached the group with her new friend and the boys couldn't help but eye her from head to toe. She was wearing a black crop top that sat just below her tits, a leather skirt with detailed lace thigh highs, paired with pointy knee high black boots. Her jet black hair sat just above her shoulders, her baby bangs had a perfect little point in the middle creating a perfect triangle that aligned with her pierced nose and matte black lipstick. What a sight.
"Hi guys! Meet our new friend, YN!" Tatum cheered and YN waved at everyone and smiled, revealing a dimple on her left cheek. Fuck, that drove Billy and Stu crazy. She was so effortlessly cute yet mysterious and intense looking. The perfect combination.
The group welcomed YN and clicked with her right away. Randy didn't hesitate to make flirty comments at the new girl and she was a natural flirt just like him, so it became a casual back and forth game between them. Stu obviously joined in, he's usually a flirt with everyone so it didn't seem out of the ordinary, but oh boy, if they only knew the plans he had with the girl.
Billy however, remained in the small talk zone. He felt safe there, plus he didn't want to reveal his intentions to Sidney who was sitting between his legs at the moment. He did make eye contact with YN from time to time and couldn't help but get tense at her gaze. Her eyes were piercing, like a black cats would be at night and it was driving him mad. He wanted to look into them while being on top of her... or maybe YN on top of him would be much better... Gosh, if he kept his imagination running it was gonna be impossible to stop his half boner from getting rock solid.
"YN should join, we have lot's of fun up there when we escape this hell hole." Stu said, snapping Billy out of his thoughts. "The cabin?" The boy thought out loud and Sidney turned around to face him. "Yeah, Stu is planning to ditch last period on Friday again and going up to his dads cabin. We're inviting YN to come along with us." Sid explained and Billy smirked in response and gave Stu a knowing look. "Yeah... Yeah YN, you should join us. Who wants to attend English class anyways?" He replied and Stu patted his back, "That's what I'm talking about." his best friend said, earning an annoyed look from Billy.
"Bring a swim suit too new girl, there's a kick ass lake up there." Stu said and smirked. "Awesome! I love lakes and it's been a while." YN replied and Randy pitched in; "Or better yet, a bikini." he said and the girl smirked at him; "Yeah, I bet you'd like that." YN said and Randy gasped in fake surprise; "I never said such a thing." The boy replied and YN gave him a flirty laugh.
Stu seemed amused with their exchange, knowing damn well Randy is all talk and no show. Meanwhile Billy was annoyed and poking his left cheek with his tongue in attempt to keep himself from saying anything stupid that could reveal his excitement about the new girl joining.
Friday came along quicker that expected and the group was already on their way to their little weekend trip. They were all bunched up in Stu's family van. His parents were conveniently out of town so he "borrowed it" for the weekend.
YN ended up sitting next to Billy after everyone argued about who would sit where and the boy was trying his hardest not to get his hands on her. "You comfortable?" Billy asked loud enough for her to hear as she closed the door. "Never better." She replied while she leaned back on the seat. Her exposed thigh brushed against his and she felt the boy tense up. She bit her lip in amusement and looked at him, smirking before looking out the window. Oh boy... new girl knew exactly what she was doing and it didn't go unnoticed by Billy or Stu who was looking at them through the rear view mirror.
"Why does it have to be me again?!" Randy complained. The group wanted him to test the water to see how cold it was but all he did was stand on the edge of the little wooden walkway and whine about how cold it was last time.
"Oh c'mon, it can't be that bad." YN said while taking her short black dress off. She had a bikini on that sat a little bit above her tits, exposing the perfect amount of under boob along with cheeky bottoms that barely covered her ass. The girls started to cheer and whistle at her in encouragement; "Yes girlie! You look hot as fuck!" Tatum said and Sidney agreed with her, taking her own clothes off and revealing a bright red colored bikini. Tatum had a yellow one on that exposed just as much under boob as the new girl's did, maybe a bit more. The boys stood there looking at them like hungry dogs before they cheered them on. Billy however just sported a smirk and followed the girls with his eyes taking an extra peek at YN's tits bouncing while she ran and jumped into the lake.
"It's not that cold guys, c'mon!" Sidney encouraged and Randy jumped in without hesitating.
"You gonna be able to keep it in your pants big boy?" Stu said loud enough for Billy to hear. "Shut up asshole, speak for yourself." He responded and looked at Stu's crotch before jumping in. Stu looked at his trunks and noticed his hard on was visible and jumped in quickly before muttering "Fuck."
The day was filled with fun, laughs and picking on Randy. It was unlike any other cabin weekend thanks to the new girl. She was cute, funny, a flirt and totally into Billy and Stu. At least that's what the boys were convincing themselves of with every little word and look she gave them. She was hard to read, Billy found, but that made it all the more fun for him.
The group were now sitting around a fire pit, talking about previous school crushes and other adventures. "So, who was your first kiss?" Tatum asked YN as she took a drag from the blunt they were passing around.
"It wasn't a big deal. We were best friends back in middle school, she was a pretty good kisser though." YN replied, taking a quick drag and passing it to Sidney who politely declined.
"Wait, she?!" Randy questioned in shock, choking on his beer along the way.
YN laughed at his exaggerated reaction and bit her lip; "Yes she, I'm bisexual, idiot." She replied while rolling her eyes playfully.
"Hot! I dare you to kiss Tatum!" Stu said rather loudly, earning a smack on his shoulder from his girlfriend. "Don't be an asshole, Stu!"
"What?! I was joking!" -- "No you weren't. Typical." YN replied and smirked at him knowingly. It's not the first time YN has heard those comments. At this point she calls the person out and brushes it off. That being said, she wouldn't mind kissing Tate at all, she's hot too just like her boyfriend.
Everyone laughed at Stu being called out, then continued talking, smoking weed and drinking alcohol around the fire. YN hadn't had this much fun in a long time and she intended on making the best out of that weekend.
After what seemed like hours of conversation, Billy, Stu, Tatum and YN were high as kites, Randy and Sid were drunk, and half of the group was nearly to the point of passing out and falling asleep for at least 12 hours that night. However, YN had other plans.
"I'm gonna go take a walk." She said, and Tatum gasped in surprise; "Alone in the woods, YN? Are you crazy! You can get killed!" the girl practically screamed and the new girl laughed; "It's okay babe, i'll be fine. Maybe I do wanna encounter a slasher, who knows..." She joked and stood up.
"YN, maybe you should take someone with you. It's seriously not safe, especially with the ghost face killings." Sidney said.
Billy and Stu looked at each other knowingly before anyone else spoke.
"I'll go with you. I need a breather myself." Billy said and smirked at Stu subtly before walking away with YN.
"So, you're actually not freaked about the possibility of you getting killed by ghost face?" Billy asked YN and she laughed before responding; "Not really, he clearly has targets and I highly doubt I'm one of them. Besides, I'd probably wanna fuck him instead of being scared."
Billy was amused at her response. If only she knew. "Is that so? You have a thing for slashers then?" He asked and she chuckled, a flirty tone to her voice. "Maybe, do you?" She asked him jokingly. "Nah, I'd say I have a thing for victims." At his answer YN slowed down her pace. His answer didn't exactly scare her but it did take her by surprise.
Billy turned around to face her as they both stopped walking. "What?" He asked, a slight seriousness coating his voice. YN looked down and bit her lip before looking him in the eye for God knows the number of times that day.
"Are you hinting at something, Loomis?" She asked him and the boy took a few steps forward leaving a few inches away between them. "Did it sound like I am? Or do you want me to be hinting at something?" He responded. Smooth.
YN looked up at him and chuckled, not knowing what to say at that point. She was too high to think about any coherent answer, especially with a guy that hot in front of her who was clearly looking to get freaky in the middle of the woods.
"Maybe..." Billy started, placing his left hand on YN's hip; "...I'm hinting at something like this." He spoke his final words before kissing YN slowly. They made out at the slowest most intense way you could imagine. Their tongues danced with each other and YN exhaled little whimpers into his mouth. He loved her little noises and couldn't help but grab both her hips and squeeze the flesh. As they continued kissing, Billy moved his hands to her ass and squeezed it before running his hands up her body and squeezing her tits that were threatening to pop out of her bikini top.
Billy took a few steps forward and pushed YN against a tree trunk, pressing himself against her while deepening the kiss. The girl sneaked her hand down his lower body and gave his throbbing dick a firm squeeze, moaning at the feeling.
YN didn't really care that he had a girl, if anything she would've done the same with her if given the chance, plus she was too high to make sense of anything so she just went with it.
YN pulled the string at the front of Billy's black swimsuit and kneeled in front of him but before she could pull his dick out they both heard the crunching of foot steps, and the girl stood up quickly.
"Well fuck, you guys started without me?" Stu said and appeared from behind the large tree she was against. "Thank's for ruining the mood, asshole" Billy said sarcastically, not even bothering to tie his pants back in place.
"Oh c'mon Billy, aren't you gonna share your meal?" -- "I sure wouldn't mind that." YN followed Stu's words and chuckled at herself. She was so high that this whole situation seemed more amusing than it would've been if she had been sober.
Billy looked at her in mild surprise and smirked, raising an eyebrow before kissing her again. Stu walked towards them and moved YN forward, Billy pulling her forward as well to allow Stu to lean against the tree, her ass pressed against his hard cock. They moved swiftly, as if they had done this countless times before... And they have.
Stu wrapped his arms around YN and pulled her bikini top down, exposing her perfect tits to Billy who started to play with her nipples while deepening the kiss. Stu sneaked his hand up her black skirt and untied her bikini bottoms, letting it fall between her legs. The boy didn't waste anymore time and started to rub YN's clit expertly. She let out hushed moans into Billy's mouth while reaching between her legs, moving Stu's fingers towards her entrance and he knew exactly what she wanted. As if on command he finger fucked her all while Billy was pinching her nipples and kissing her neck.
YN was so impossibly aroused, mostly because of the weed, but having these two hot idiots touching her like this made her feel as if she were in heaven.
"Mm, fuck me... Both of you." She said and the boys quickly stopped their movements and pulled their pants down just enough to release their dicks. YN wrapped her legs around Billy and he picked her up pushing her against Stu in order for them to line up their cocks to her cunt. She was so soaking wet they both slipped in easily. The stretch felt so delicious that she couldn't contain her moans.
Billy and Stu pounded into her like wild animals, breathing heavy and grabbing her steady.
"Fuck... You feel so good..." Billy whispered and YN wasn't sure if he meant her or Stu rubbing his cock against his friends. Either way it was hot as fuck and YN was going to cum any second. The boys were close behind, thrusting out of unison, moaning and groaning. It was music to YN's ears.
"I'm close... Fuck, I'm so close..." The girl moaned as she squeezed around both of their dicks. Billy and Stu couldn't say anything at that point up until they all came at the same time.
They filled YN up so much that their combined juices dripped on the ground.
Once they all caught their breath's, Billy placed YN down on her feet and stabled her. The girl nearly fell from how hard the two fucked her.
"Damn, did we really fucked you that good new girl?" Stu said from behind her.
"Oh, shut up." She answered before getting dressed along with the boys and returning to the cabin as if nothing had happened.
-
Extra detail for fun: I found this pic scrolling through Tumblr last night and it's exactly how I imagine readers'hair! 🖤
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(Picture not mine. If anyone knows the owner lmk so I can credit. Thank you!)
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corrodedcorpses · 2 years
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Boys on Film. Part ii.
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Pairing: PS!Steve x PS!Eddie x Virgin!reader
Summary: It's been a week since you watched that tape and you haven't been able to get the images of Eddie and Steve out of your head since. Scared you'd say or do something weird around them, you've decided to avoid them instead. But of course, they show up announced just to torture you.
Warnings: Smut (18+), light angst, Masturbation (female), Voyeurism, Oral sex (m)
Word count: 9.5k (god damn)
a/n: Here's part 2!! Finally! Thank you so much for the love on the first part and I hope everyone enjoys this part!! Definitely more parts to come 🫢
Part 1 // Part 3
It’s been a week since you’d watched that damn video. A week since you’d even dared to touch yourself, the feelings of guilt growing each second that past since you’d come down from the most intense orgasm of your life. 
Ever since that night you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to see them, or hardly even talk to them. They’d been ringing you nonstop but everytime you picked up the phone and heard their voice you could practically hear them moaning through the receiver. Each time you’d given them some excuse to end the call early, opting now to just not pick up the phone at all. 
Of course they wouldn’t know what you’d done but you couldn’t shake the intense feeling of guilt. You felt guilty for seeing them like that, sure but you mostly felt the guilt at how much you ached for them now. How you would do anything to swap places with the girl in the video. 
How you wanted your first time to be them. 
You’d thought about nothing else and had imagined every scenario of you asking them to be your firsts. But every scenario you played out in your head ended with rejection. There’s no way they would ever see you like that, you were certain.
You also knew that they would sense something was wrong and you were certain Steve’s charm and Eddie’s smirk could convince you to confess to murder. There’s no way you would be able to keep your mouth shut.
But, even if you did somehow manage to just not mention it you weren’t sure you could be around them with all these new and weird feelings bubbling inside you. How could you stand to be around someone when your whole body longed for them? 
***
Steve waited outside his house as he heard the familiar sounds of Eddie’s van coming down his street, the usual beat of some metal song Steve automatically recognises being heard before he could even see the van. I definitely hang out with Eddie too much, he thinks to himself with a fond smirk. 
He nervously picks at the skin on his fingers as he waits for Eddie’s van to park before jogging down the driveway to meet him. He isn’t nervous to see Eddie, it's you. You've been distant with both of them and they’re worried. It’s not like you to push them away no matter what. So they both decided to show up at your house tonight, favourite takeaway in hand and get to the bottom of what was going on with you. 
Eddie greets Steve as he climbs into his van. 
“Do you think she’d prefer Chinese or Pizza tonight?” Eddie asks while backing out of the driveway. 
“You choose,” Steve mumbles back. He’s uncharacteristically quiet and maybe even a little sad, Eddie notices. 
“Hey, I’m sure whatever’s bothering her isn’t that big of a deal. She’ll talk to us, don’t worry. 
Steve sighs in response, “you’re probably right, I guess I’m just thinking the worst. But what if we’ve done something, what if I’ve done something? Like something really bad and I didn’t realise?” Steve rambles. 
Eddie tries his best to listen intently as Steve goes through the list of scenarios swimming around in his head. 
“What if she has a boyfriend?” Steve questions, practically spitting the last word. He freezes as he realises how that must have sounded, “No- ah, I don't mean like that, of course she can have a boyfriend, it's not like she needs, my- um our permission and I wouldn’t like care, just, her last boyfriend was awful and I don’t want her hurt like that again”.
“Yeah, shit, I hated that guy,” Eddie agrees, brushing over the other awkwardness but Steve sees a weird and unreadable expression on Eddie’s face at the mention of your possible boyfriend being the cause for you pulling away so suddenly. “We only saw her less than two weeks ago anyway, there’s no way she could have met someone that fast,” Eddie reassures Steve, although it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more. 
“Well, ah that’s not exactly true man,” Steve says sheepishly, “I did see her a couple days ago at the grocery store, right before I called you actually”.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I said hi and she was weird man, she was looking around too, like anywhere but me as if she was looking for someone maybe?” 
“Oh.” Eddie clenched his jaw as his knuckles turned white against the steering wheel. 
***** 
You had just gotten home from work and changed into something comfortable, contemplating what you wanted for dinner tonight when you heard the unmistakable sound of Eddie’s van pull up your driveway 
Shit. 
You knew it was too good to be true that you would be able to keep your distance. Your goddamn amazing, sweet and thoughtful bestfriends of course knew you were avoiding them and of course they couldn’t just let you. 
You quickly check yourself in the mirror, brushing down your hair and feeling weirdly self conscious in the tiny lounge shorts and singlet top both Eddie and Steve had seen you in countless times. 
You contemplated changing into something more baggy but didn’t have time as you heard a rap at your door. It’s just Eddie and Steve you tell yourself as you open it. 
The minute you see them they’re pulling you into tight hugs, telling you how much they both missed you. You mumble back that you missed them too but can’t help feeling tense under their once comforting touch. 
“We bought your favourite”, Eddie sang as you let them inside, jiggling the plastic bag in his hand.
Your gaze lingered a little too long on Eddie's fingers as he gripped the bag, thoughts immediately going to how they looked wrapped around his cock or tangled in Steve’s hair. It’s not like you’d never noticed Eddie’s hands before, especially with those bloody rings he wore but it seemed as though you were seeing them, really seeing them for the first time. 
You felt arousal pool at your core at the thought of them exploring all over you, inside of you. 
I’m going to ask them.
You jumped as you felt Steve’s hand on your shoulder, realising you’d been staring at Eddie for way too long. 
“You okay honey?” Steve asked, concern scrunching his features. 
“Y-yeah, yeah sorry, I’m just a bit tired I think,” you replied with a weak laugh, “let's eat.”
Eddie and Steve share a look but don’t say anything as you all sit at the table at your usual spots. The spots you’ve all sat in millions of time, eating, laughing and drinking with the closest friends you’ve ever had. Friends that meant the world to you. Friends you couldn’t lose. 
I can’t ask them. 
Eddie and Steve started up a conversation, talking about a new scene Steve had done, how it was “by far one of the craziest”. Usually you’d be interested in what it was but as Steve kept rambling on, you just couldn’t get yourself to listen. Too caught up in your own thoughts as you mentally battled the ache between your legs. 
It’s not like they’d care right? I mean they do this for work. It’d just be like work. It couldn’t hurt to ask at least… unless they completely reject you and you ruin the best friendship you’ve ever had. 
But they did that scene together, they even kissed and did… other stuff and it didn’t ruin their friendship. If anything they seem closer now, it would be the same for you, right? 
But that’s their job. It would be different with you. You’re less skilled, less confident, this isn’t your job. 
Maybe it would be better with you? You’ve known them forever, maybe they’d be even more comfortable if it were you? 
God, you’re not even listening to what Steve’s saying. You feel like such a bad friend. Here you are thinking about fucking both of them instead of listening and having a nice dinner with them. A dinner of your favourite food that they surprised you with because they knew something was off with you. 
How did I get lucky enough to have these two boys in my life?
But you were lucky. These two boys knew you. They knew everything about you and would never judge you. Even if they didn’t want to do it with you, you knew they’d be nice about it. God knows they’ve said and asked you more embarrassing things, they’d forgive you, they’d be kind. 
You want your first time to be them. 
You knew you’d never be able to think straight unless you just asked them. Before your brain could catch up with your mouth you suddenly blurted it out.
“I wanna fuck,” you cut off Steve suddenly, almost yelling it out and startling them both, “me, both of you, want you to fuck me.” The last bit comes out in barely a whisper. 
Wow so smooth 
Eddie all but chokes on his food while Steve lets out a shocked what????
You look down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers as your cheeks flush with embarrassment… this wasn’t how you were going to ask and that definitely wasn;t the reaction you’d hoped for. 
They both stare at you, waiting for some kind of explanation. 
“I watched the tape,” you mumble. 
“Ohhhhh,” Eddie says as Steve looks at him confused. Steve didn’t know that Eddie dropped the tape off, shit. 
“The tape, Harrington,” Eddie explains, “you know, of the two sexiest men alive doing some very naughty things together.”
It finally clicks in Steve’s head what you’re both talking about. “You gave her a copy of the tape?” He asks. 
He sounds angry, you think as shame washes over you. 
“How did you even get extra copies yet?” Steve asks Eddie. 
“I gave her my personal copy,” Eddie shrugs. 
They’re glossing over your question. 
You sink in on yourself further. This was such a bad idea, of course they wouldn’t want to fuck you. The girl in the tape was so confident, so experienced. Why would they want to go for someone like you? There’s no way they’d have any fun with you. 
“Didn’t want her to have to wait until it was fully released and good thing I didn’t. You liked what ya saw that much huh sweetheart?” Eddie says cockily.  
You know he doesn’t mean it to come out mean but it has you on the verge of tears. You feel so embarrassed, contemplating running to your room and locking yourself in until they leave. You can’t bring yourself to look at them. 
Steve kicks Eddie under the table at seeing your reaction to his comment. 
“Ouch! Dude what the-“ he goes to scold Steve but quickly stops at the look on Steve’s face. Steve cocks his head towards you and gives Eddie a look of shut up, look what you did. 
Eddie looks over at you, seeming to only just notice how much you’ve shrunk in your seat. Tears threatening to fall out of the corner of your sad, embarrassed eyes. 
“No, sweetheart, I’m sorry please don’t cry,” Eddie tried to console. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you I just ah, did not expect that.” 
Steve seems somewhat pleased with that and tries his best to sooth you too. “Come on honey, we’re not mad or anything, promise,” Eddie nods in agreement and mumbles out a “yeah absolutely not”. “We were just a little shocked is all.” Steve continues with a laugh. 
You finally chance a glance at them. You’re surprised to see no anger or teasing looks on their faces. They look kind, safe and maybe like pitying you just a little bit. Still not what you were hoping for but you’d take it over them being angry and hating you forever. 
You take a deep breath before finally talking properly for the first time all night. 
“I’m sorry, I should’ve found a better way to ask, it’s just,” you sigh, trying to form the right words this time, “you both know I’m not the most experienced - or really experienced at all- and the little experience I do have… wasn’t the best.” 
Eddie snorts, recalling you ex- douchebag with a scoff of “understatement”. You smile slightly at how annoyed he still is at how your ex treated you. 
“And I just,” you continue, “when I saw both of you, with that chick, and how much she was enjoying it and how much fun it looked, I guess I just felt like maybe I was missing out.” 
“Hey,” Steve coos, taking your hand gently in his,”you’re not missing out on anything, there's no timeframe for when you have to do that stuff.”
“I mean, it is definitely fun,” Eddie expands, “but only if you’re comfortable and feel like it’s the right time for you.”
You give them both a small smile. They’re so nice, but they still didn’t say yes. 
“I’m sorry I asked,” you say sheepishly, “I just feel so safe with you both and I guess just thought that maybe sex would actually be good with you. I know that was stupid because you’re my best friends and I wouldn’t know what I’m doing so I know you wouldn’t have fun with me. I can’t do the things that the other girl did.”
Their hearts swell at your confession, you feel safe with them. But they grow confused as you mention the girl from the tape. 
“Hey,” Eddie tries, “experience doesn’t mean shit -”
“Eddie, I can hardly even make myself cum!” you practically yell at him, you appreciate them trying to be nice but you’re growing frustrated at the whole situation, “I know you both don’t want to and I know you wouldn’t have fun, it’s okay.”
“Wait seriously?” Eddie exclaims before he can stop himself. 
Great, another thing to feel shame about.
This earns him another look from Steve.  “No not like that,” Eddie tries to rectify what he said, “it just seems like a real shame that a pretty thing like you hardly ever gets to feel good, even from herself.” 
You roll your eyes at his trademark flirting but have to hide the smile trying to grace your lips at him calling you pretty. 
Steve and Eddie share a look, seemingly having a silent conversation. You really hate how much closer they’ve gotten recently. 
“Alright,” Eddie says with a nod, “we'll do it.”
“What?” you question.
“We wanna help you out,” Steve explains, “we want to be your firsts, if you still want to.”
You’re hearing things. You must be. The shame got too much and you passed out, this is now some weird and cruel trick your brain is playing on you. It has to be.
“A-are you sure?” you question hesitantly. 
“Positive,” Eddie says while flashing his gorgeous smile, “hell, if I’d known it wouldn’t ruin our friendship I would’ve been all over you since highschool sweetheart.”
You shake your head and bite back a smile. You know he’s joking and just trying to butter you up - but you’re only half right. 
“Well, how do we start?” You blurt out, you want them, need them right now. 
“We’re not going to do anything tonight babe” Steve says sweetly. 
“Oh, right,” you say embarrassed but they both smile sweetly at your eagerness. 
“I’m free Tuesday and Wednesday next week, what about you two?” you ask. 
“Yeah Tuesday works for me.”
“Me too.”
“Perfect,” Eddie says, “so Tuesday we’ll meet here and then we can sit down with you and figure out your likes and dislikes, what you have and haven’t done, and what you’d like to try. Just like we do before any scene we’re in.” 
You’re kind of surprised to see Eddie so serious, all business. But you guess that makes sense, this is his job after all. 
You appreciate how serious they’re treating this but can’t help but feel a little nervous now, you’re not even sure what you like. 
Sensing your nerves, Steve quickly reassures you, “don’t worry, we’ll walk you through it okay?”.
“Yeah, we’ll figure all that stuff out together,” Eddie adds.
“Okay”, you reply. 
Steve gives your knee a reassuring squeeze while Eddie flashes you a smile. You can’t believe how much you trust both men in front of you. 
The rest of dinner went by smoothly. You felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your chest and you finally felt like your old self again. It was back to normal, just you, Eddie and Steve. 
****
Wednesday comes around faster than you expected. You thought that the days in between would drag on but as Wednesday approached you found your nerves easily drawing the excitement you’d once felt. That’s when Wednesday seemed to be in front of you too quickly. 
You’ve spent all afternoon after you got off work frantically cleaning, showering, drowning yourself in nice smelling things, washing your hair, moisturising, your whole routine practically 5 times over. 
You hear a knock on the door, yelling that it’s open as you check yourself over once more in the mirror. You wipe your clammy palms on the front of your singlet top and shorts while trying to huff out all of your anxieties. 
Come on you can do this, you wanted this.
You reach for the door with shaky hands, slinking out of the bathroom on jelly legs. You find them both relaxing on the couch, looking much more comfortable than you feel. 
“H-hey,” you stutter out sheepishly. Their heads turn to you as they hear you enter. Comforting smiles adorn their faces, melting a tinge of your worries as soft heys leave their lips. Eddie pats the couch in between the two of them and you plop down between them, not meeting their eyes as you pick nervously at the skin on your fingers. 
Eddie puts his arm on the back of the couch, absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair as Steve places his warm hand on your knee. The gestures are supposed to be comforting but you can’t help but flinch slightly under their touch. 
“Are you okay?” Steve asks softly, ducking his head to try and meet your gaze. 
“Y-yeah,” you respond shakily, hating how small your voice sounds. 
“Hey, you know we don’t have to do this, yeah?” Eddie asks reassuringly, “say the word sweetheart and we’ll just hang out and watch a movie or something.”
“No, no, I want to… I just have no clue what I'm doing,” you respond with a nervous laugh.
“That’s what your own personal sex gods are for darling,” Eddie quips. 
This earns a chuckle from you and Steve, your shoulders relaxing slightly at the familiar feeling of Eddie. 
“So,” Steve announces, “what are some of your “hard no”s?” And at the confused look on your face, “what’s something that, no matter what, you do not want us to do.” 
You looked away from him as you thought long and hard…. You came up blank though, how could you know what you didn’t like if you didn’t even know what you do? 
“Hard No’s could be something like you hate neck kisses or in more intense situations you’re not a massive fan of face slapping, things like that.” 
Your eyes widened at that. 
“We’re not gonna do anything like that now! No slapping or anything, yet,” Eddie emphasised that with a wink, “but those are some examples.” 
“I-I like neck kisses… I think,” you mumble, “and if we’re not going to do anything that… intense right now I guess I don’t really have any?” 
Eddie and Steve nod as they hang on to your every word. The care in which they’re approaching this definitely helping to lower your rapid heart rate. 
“Okay,” Steve continues, “anything you really want to try right now?” 
“Umm… I guess I wish I was better at kissing,” you say with a cringe, embarrassed at how tame that request was, you try to cover yourself as your cheeks heat up. “I mean, I have kissed before, obviously, I just haven’t for a while and I dunno I feel like I kind of do it weird I don-“ 
Eddie cuts off your rambling when he brings his hand to cup your cheek. You look in his eyes hesitantly as you subconsciously nuzzle into his calloused hand. 
A small smile adorns his lips as he searches your eyes, his own chocolate orbs darkening slightly as he glances at your lips. 
He slowly brings his thumb up to ghost over your bottom lip, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. 
“We can definitely help with that, sweetheart,” he whispers lowly as he moves increasingly closer to you. 
You nod slightly. Trying to will him to close the sliver of a distance between your lips. 
“Words,” he whispers.
“Please,” you breathe. And it’s all Eddie needs to hear before closing the distance, his lips barely pressing into yours as if too much pressure would break you under him. 
Feeling a surge of confidence you push your lips into his more. It’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s deepening the kiss. It’s all consuming, years of emotion, comfort and longing all coming to the surface as you kiss each other with vigour.  
You feel Steve’s soft lips travel up your shoulder to the slope of your neck and up along your throat. You audibly shiver at the feeling, causing Eddie and Steve to smile into your lips and neck. 
“Yeah you definitely like neck kisses,” Steve teases in between the feather touches. You don’t know if it’s from Steve’s tone or the kisses themselves but you can feel arousal pool in your panties because of it. 
You feel all consumed by Steve and Eddie but before you can lose yourself in them completely you feel Eddie pull away. He smirks as you chase his lips but uses the hand still cupping your cheek to gently direct you towards Steve. You see that he also has his other hand cupping Steve’s cheek as he brings you both together. 
Steve’s kiss is gentler than Eddies, where Eddie was all consuming Steve is controlled, where Eddie was intense and a little messy Steve is gentle and longing. Eddie’s hand on your face means he can slightly manoeuvre your face, gently guiding you as you and Steve explore each other's mouths. 
Eddie then pulls you away from Steve, you’re about to protest but before you can Eddie leans forward on the couch, dragging Steve with him before crashing his lips against Steve’s in front of you.
You watch in awe as they practically devour each other. You can tell they were definitely holding back for you as this kiss is feral and bruising. It has you clenching your thighs together, longing for them to handle you like this. 
You’re also very aware of Eddie’s hand still cupping your face and Steve’s hand still on your knee, both of them rubbing soothing circles in your skin to let you know they haven’t forgotten about you. 
You whine as you watch the continued onslaught, causing Eddie and Steve to finally break the kiss. 
“This is supposed to be about her,” Steve breathes into Eddie’s lips, faces barely pulled away from each other. 
“Couldn’t help myself,” Eddie mumbles, staring at Steve’s raw and glistening lips. 
“I don’t mind,” you say quickly, as much as you’d love for their attention to be back on you, you cannot deny how erotic it was watching them together, “trust me.”
They chuckle at how breathless you sound just from some kissing, but it only spurs them on more. 
Eddie leans away from Steve then, dropping his hand from Steve’s face to bring both hands up to your face, palms pressed into your cheeks gently, contrasting the fierce kiss he seers into your lips. 
The kiss still doesn’t match the roughness of Eddie and Steve’s kiss but it’s by far the most intensely you’ve ever been kissed. It’s all consuming and leaves you breathless but aching for more. You subconsciously press yourself further into Eddie as you let him consume you. 
Eddie can’t get enough of you either, wishing he’d had the courage to do this years ago. He expertly hooks his hands under your knees and drags you on to his lap, swallowing the gasp you let out into his mouth, lips never leaving each other. 
His hands venture up the sides of your plush thighs, you can tell that he’s holding back, doing his best to not overwhelm you but you need more. You tangle your fingers in his soft, frizzy hair, pulling every so slightly, as you start to timidly rock your hips against him, earning the most beautiful groan from him. 
You hear Steve shuffle closer, sitting with his thigh pressed into the side of calf as you straddle Eddie. His hand travelling up your back soothingly until it comes to rest on the side of your neck. 
At hearing Steve shuffle forward, Eddie pulls back from you again, so that Steve can capture your lips but also so he can take a breather, self control drastically slipping away the longer he feels your body move on his. 
Steve matches Eddie’s intensity, causing you to let little moans and sighs slip into his lips as you continue to grind against Eddie. Your little shorts and soft fabric of your underwear were almost soaked through.  
Eddie watches you both, pupils blown completely black from lust. You rock your hips at a particularly good angle, dragging sinfully over Eddie’s almost hard dick. He hisses and throws his head back, willing himself to stay softer for long. This is about you, he tries to remind himself. 
“We should take this to the bedroom,” Eddie sighs with a shaky breath, desperation lacing his words.
You giggle and hop off his lap, taking both of their hands and pulling them up off the couch before turning to lead them to your room. Boy are they thankful for you going first, their eyes watching your ass jiggle in your incredibly tight and tiny shorts as you walk. 
You stand awkwardly in the middle of the room as they both filter in after you. 
“So, we’ve talked about it,” Steve breaks the silence first, “and we think the first thing should be you showing us how you get yourself off.”
“That way at least you know how to make yourself feel good and it's a real shame you’re missing out.”
“O-okay,” you mumble, but don’t move, you’re not really sure what they want from you and you’re frozen from the fear of making a fool of yourself. Also trying not to think about the fact that they’ve talked about it, talked about you and how to make you feel good without you. But also very thankful that they’re obviously taking this very seriously. 
After a pause Eddie continues, “why don’t you take your shorts off for us, yeah?”
You nod, and with trembling fingers you slowly slide your shorts off. Both boys eye your core, clad in cute cotton panties. 
“These are cute,” Eddie whispers, ghosting his fingers along your bare thigh before snapping your waistband lightly against you. You jump and giggle, ducking your head as your cheeks turn crimson. 
“Hop on the bed for us?” Eddie asks, but it’s more of a request, “Get nice and comfy against the headboard.”
You do as they say, leaning back against your pillows half propped up as the boys come to kneel at the end of your bed, watching you intently. You’re confused as to why you’re not fully naked, or at least have your underwear off but don’t have time to dwell on that. 
“Whenever you’re ready, beautiful,” Steve coos. 
Before you can overthink it you move your underwear to the side, plunging your finger in straight away. “Whoa whoa whoa, hey,” Eddie stops you and you freeze and take your finger out instantly, looking up at him with worried eyes, anxious thoughts swimming in your head, “you just put your fingers in straight away?” 
“Well yeah…” how else were you supposed to finger yourself? 
Steve smiles at your innocence, trying not to laugh at how adorable you look right now. 
“Jesus well no wonder you can’t make yourself cum, there’s no foreplay” 
You just look at them confused. 
“You know,” Steve tries, “you gotta get yourself warmed up.” But you still just stare confusedly at them. 
They exchange a look, wondering how else to explain it to you.
“Hang on I got an idea,” Steve says, climbing towards you on the bed. Your breath hitches as you watch him crawl towards you, very aware of his proximity to your half naked form, even though you just had your lips all over his minutes ago. “Sit up and scoot down for me a little bit honey?” 
You do as he says and he comes to sit behind you, legs outstretched on either side of yours. He softly drags his fingertips down your arms, until he reaches your hands, you go to hold his hands and you feel him smile against the side of your head. 
“Other way,” he whispers and you flip your hands so that the back of yours is resting in his palms. 
“That’s it,” he coos, “now rub your hands up your thighs, yeah, just like that.” Goosebumps started to rise on your skin from the slight touches, running up and down your legs, sometimes dipping in between them but never actually touching your core. 
“Give those gorgeous tits some attention Stevie,” Eddie demands softly, eyes burning holes into you and Steve in front of him. 
Steve complies silently. Bringing your hands up for you to cup one of your breasts, squeezing softly as your other hand teases the waistband of your panties. Everything feels so good and so sensual but it’s not enough. You start to get antsy, whimpering softly and arching into your own touch, willing Steve to give you more. 
Your eyes meet Eddie’s silently begging him to make Steve do something. You’re lucky that Eddie seems to be in a gentle mood today as he smirks at you. 
“Why don’t you show us those pretty tits properly huh?”
“Please,” you whine desperately. 
Steve lets go of your hands to lift your shirt over your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor. You suddenly feel very self conscious but the look of awe on Eddie’s face and the sharp intake of breath you hear Steve take behind you has you feeling more confident than you thought. 
You can’t help but think back to the look on their faces as they watched the other girl on the tape. You feel almost pride as you realise the way Eddie is looking at you is different, better. He’s looking at you not just with lust but with awe and adoration. 
Steve finally brings both of your hands up to cup your tits firmly, nudging your thumbs up to rub your nipples into hard perks. You moan at the feeling, head lulling back against his shoulder and grinding into the mattress to try and gain some friction. 
“God, look at you,” Eddie practically moans, “wish you could see how pretty and needy she looks right now, and so wet.” You whimper at his words, grinding harder and pinching your nipples. 
“Yeah?” Steve whispers, lips grazing your ear, “that feel good princess? You ready for some more?” 
“Please more, n-need more,” you beg. 
“Mmm good girl using your manners,” Eddie teases, as he inches his hands towards your core, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties. Your stomach flips at the praise, breath hitching. Finally you get to be their good girl. Steve takes note of that. 
Eddie pauses, looking at you for confirmation before pulling them down your legs once you nod. 
Any previous nerves you might have had at being fully naked before them, especially while they were still fully clothed is gone. Replaces only with lust and your need to come. 
Eddie repositions your legs so that they’re spread open and bent before him as he leans back on his heels between them. Steve finally directs your hand to your core. 
“Think you can do this part yourself?” He checks, “we’ll still walk you through it though okay?”
“Yeah, I can,” you reply. 
“Good girl,” he coos much more sweetly than Eddie, smirking when he gets a similar reaction, “leave this hand up here though, keep giving these tits some love.” 
You nod and Steve lets go of your other hand, it’s all up to you now. You dip your fingers near your core, but this time you run your fingers over it, surprised at how wet you feel as you smear the slick around. 
“That’s it, pretty girl, nice and slow,” Eddie coos.
You finally dip your finger into your dripping cunt, moaning at how much more intense it is compared to usual. You pump your finger inside you, and try your best to remember to play with your nipple at the same time. 
Slowly you add another finger, pumping them faster. 
“Do you usually play with your clit too baby?” 
You shake your head, “it’s never really felt that good.”
“You’re nice and wet, trust me it’ll feel good,” Eddie assures you, “use your thumb but keep those fingers going in your pretty cunt.”
Your eyes roll back at his words as you bring your thumb up to circle your clit. You jolt as you feel the pad slide over the wet bud, 
“Fuck it feels so good,” you moan as the boys smirk at you. 
You speed up your assault on your sopping pussy. Feeling the telltale signs that your orgasm was rapidly approaching. 
“‘M close,” you warn desperately. The sounds of your fingers flying in and out of your dripping core filling the room. 
You vaguely hear them tell you that you can cum before your orgasm crashes into you. It's so intense it has you practically screaming, legs shaking as you drench your hand and wrist. 
It lasts for what seems like hours as you continue to finger yourself through it before slumping back against Steve, fingers falling from your abused hole. 
You’re a panting, whimpering mess as you finally register Eddie and Steve whispering sweet praises of you did so good for us, you’re so pretty baby and bet that felt good sweet girl. All while Steve caresses your shoulders and arms as Eddie smooths circles in your ankles. 
When Eddie can see you’ve finally returned to earth he asks how it was, a smug look gracing his features. 
“So good,” you moan with a laugh. 
Eddie then climbs in between your legs, giving you a soft kiss as he mumbles “you look so pretty when you cum for us little one.” The old nickname has your heart swelling and cunt pulsing. 
“More,” you whimper against his lips. They chuckle at you as Steve presses a kiss to your temple. 
“Not today sweetheart,” Eddie responds, “wouldn’t want to overwhelm you”. 
“But what about you two?” you ask innocently, wanting nothing more than to get your hands on more of them. 
“It’s okay sweet girl,” Eddie coos, “you don’t have to worry about us.” Steve mumbles in agreement, pressing more kisses to your temple and cheek. 
You suddenly remember the position in the tape that made you get to the edge fastest, Steve on his knees in front of Eddie. You need to see them fully, you need to see what you got a glimpse at on the tape. 
“Hey you know, in the- ah, in the film,” you start, nerves suddenly returning. Eddie cocks his head, interested in where this is going. “A-after you,” you nod towards Eddie, “had fucked her and then Steve um… knelt in front of you and um-” you try your best to explain it but you can’t seem to form the words you need. Brain foggy from your orgasm and nerves. 
 “You wanna watch Stevie suck my cock baby?” Eddie asks cockily, finishing your request for you. 
You nod.
“hmm guess it’s a good way to teach her how,” Steve reasons.
“Mmm,” Eddie hums in agreement,  “and I’d be lying if I said seeing you cum didn’t make me as hard as a rock sweetheart”. You look down and blush at the obvious outline of Eddie’s hard cock in his pants, eyes bulging slightly. You knew he was big, you saw it in the tape, but seeing even the outline in person was completely different. You meet his eyes again and he gives you a wink, causing your cheeks to heat up. 
“Yeah shit,” Steve replies, “me too.” That’s when you realise you can feel his boner pressed against your back, causing you to blush even further. Surprised you had the effect on both of them. 
“Besides,” Steve continues, tone flirty, “would love to get my mouth around that pretty cock of yours again Eds.” You whimper at his words which causes both of them to chuckle fondly at you. 
“Hop up baby,” Steve instructs while patting the sides of your ass fondly, “We’ll go kneel in front of Ed’s on the floor while he sits on the bed, everyone can be nice and comfortable like that.” 
You nod as you hop off the bed. Eddie rids himself of his shirt as he sits at the end of the bed, grabbing one of your pillows to place on the floor before helping you to kneel on it in between his spread legs. 
Your eyes wander over the expanse of his chest and stomach unabashedly. Feeling much bolder in your post orgasm haze. You take in the black ink that lines his chest and arms, a few more than you realised he’d had and that you’d definitely missed while watching the tape. In your defence you were a little preoccupied then.
Your eyes linger a little on the happy trail that dips into the waist of his jeans. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that you’re going to see Eddie, all of Eddie in person. Something you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about, many times, since that first week at highschool. 
Your eyes travel up and take in how his curly locks cascade over his shoulders, almost covering the demon that adorns his upper chest. Your eyes finally meet his and you realise he’s been watching you watch him the whole time, an amused expression on his face. 
He brings his hand up to cup your face, rubbing soothing circles in your skin. Your eyes flutter slightly as you nuzzle into his hand. 
You notice Steve as he comes to stand next to you, having taken his shirt off too as well as his jeans, leaving him in nothing but his boxers before you. His dick has softened slightly but you can still make out a pretty clear outline of it in your boxers. The site makes you ache for them, but you know they’re going to make you take this painfully slow. 
You look up at him in awe as he comes to kneel beside you, capturing your lips with his, smiling as he kisses you sweetly. 
“Ready Eds?” Steve asks tauntingly, pulling away from you, already knowing Eddie’s answer. 
“Yep,” Eddie replies, popping the last letter of the word. 
Steve’s hands smooth up Eddie’s thighs, looking up at him innocently. He goes to pop open the button of Eddie’s jeans but before he can, a thought crosses your mind. 
“Do guys need to be, like, “warmed up” too?” you ask innocently. 
“Not exactly,” Eddie responds with a sweet, gentle smile, “maybe a little bit to get hard but trust me, watching you cum and having you two pretty things kneeling in front of me is more than enough warming up for me.” He chuckles with a shake of his head, like he’s in disbelief of the sight in front of him. 
Steve finally unbuttons Eddie's jeans, pulling his pants and boxers down as Eddie lifts his hips to help. You and Steve move back slightly so Eddie can get his pants off fully. 
You watch, mouth slightly agape as his dick springs up against his stomach, tip red and leaking precum. Your mouth waters at the sight, but you wait for Steve to demonstrate. 
You watch as Steve takes Eddie in his hand, gripping loosely as he licks from his balls all the way to the tip. Your eyes flick to Eddie’s face, watching as his eyes flutter softly as he sucks in a breath at the feeling of Steve's tongue on his shaft. 
After licking up and down Eddie’s length a couple of times Steve finally takes the tip into his mouth, sucking wetly on it. You watch with lidded eyes as Eddie’s head lulls back, exposing the length of his gorgeous neck as he moans out “jesus Steve.”
Steve smiles as much as he can with Eddie still in his mouth before bobbing his head up and down along the length, taking more and more into his mouth with each movement. He suddenly brings his hand up to the length not in his mouth before pulling off Eddie fully with a pop and spitting a string of saliva over the tip. 
You watch it drip slowly down the length, mouth opening slightly at the urge to lick it up. 
Steve then brings his hand up, catching the spit and rubbing it all over Eddie before taking him back in his mouth, Eddie’s hand flying to Steve’s head to tangle his fingers in the golden locks. You feel more arousal coat your slit as you watch Steve suck Eddie’s cock desperately. 
You hear pretty, soft moans coming from Eddie. You tear your eyes away from Steve to glance up at Eddie’s face. You look at him through lust filled eyes. His lips parted slightly as his moans fall off them, eyebrows furrowed slightly as his face contorts with the onslaught of pleasure, his bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead. He looks breathtaking. 
Eddie notices you staring, dark, chocolate orbs finding your lust filled ones as he holds your gaze, staring deep into you as he continues to moan and whimper. 
Your body feels like it's on fire. You need to feel Eddie down your throat. 
“Can I try?” you ask suddenly. Tearing your gaze from Eddie back to Steve as he releases the older boy from his mouth. His lips are red and swollen, mouth wet from a mix of saliva and Eddie’s precum, his hair dishevelled from Eddie’s fingers and tears pricking the corners of his eyes. 
“Sure thing pretty girl,” Steve rasps, his throat raw from Eddie’s cock, “you think you got it?”
You nod before leaning forward, tongue darting out to rub along Eddie’s slit as Steve still holds the shaft for you. The salty, musky taste of the mix of Eddie’s pre and Steve’s saliva invades your mouth, you need more. 
Cautiously you take the tip into your mouth, sucking on it lightly. You hear Eddie suck in a shaky breath in response, your confidence growing as you start to suck more harshly. 
You start to bob your head before Steve pats your head mumbling out a one second. You release Eddie from your mouth with a confused look on your face and Steve just wants to kiss it away. 
He grabs your hand with the one not around Eddie and brings it to his lips. Kissing the palm before spitting directly on to it. You gasp slightly at the action, not realising how turned on that would make you. 
Steve then directs your hand to Eddie’s length, replacing his hand with yours. You take the tip in your mouth again, using the other hand to jerk off the length not in your mouth, as Steve had. 
You start to bob your head faster and take more of Eddie into your throat. His moans increase and you can tell he’s trying his best not to tangle his fingers roughly in your hair too, knuckles white as he grips the duvet instead. 
“God, you’re such a good girl,” he moans.  You get a little too cocky when his head hits the back of your throat violently, causing you to gag on his thick length, you hear Eddie moan in surprise before you’re pulling off of him, spluttering as tears prick your eyes. 
Eddie rubs your head soothingly, while Steve rubs your back, cooing softly at you until you stop coughing. 
“Sorry,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed by your reaction. Eddie wipes away a stray tear that’s fallen down your cheek 
“S’okay baby,” he reassures, “you don’t have to go that deep.”
“I just wanted to make you cum,” you mumble, looking down at the floor. 
“Oh sweet girl, trust me you will,” he expels air, almost in disbelief at how good you were making him feel, “you were getting me so close.” 
“Really?” you ask, eyes twinkling up at him. 
He nods with a fond look on his face, “wanna try again?”
You nod vigorously, gripping on to his shaft again. You remember how Steve had licked the length of Eddie before taking him into his mouth. You repeat his action from earlier while maintaining eye contact with Eddie, earning you a low moan of oh fuck before taking him into your mouth once more. 
You bob your head a couple more times, speeding up and making sure you keep jerking off the part you can’t fit into your mouth. Eddie's hand flies to your head but he tries his best to not push your head or grab your hair too tightly. 
His head tips back with a groan, orgasm hurtling towards him after holding back and being edged for so long - not that he minded, he wanted to make this good for you, even if that meant being edged all night. 
Eddie turns into a babbling mess, “fuck baby I’m getting so close, yeah just like that, you’re such a good girl for us, yeah, don’t take it too deep, just keep going like that sweetheart.”
You feel Eddie’s dick get incredibly hard, pulsing in your mouth and you know he’s close. 
“Oh fuck baby, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum in that pretty mouth,” he warns. You only look up at him, maintaining eye contact as you continue to suck him. 
“Shit, you want it, don’t ya baby? My dirty fucking girl,” he drawls out. 
You moan in response, the vibrations shooting straight up Eddie’s spine. It’s all Eddie needs to send him over the edge. 
“I’m gonna, fuck sweetheart, I’m gonna-” Eddie cums down your throat with a loud moan, you do your best to swallow it all but some of his cum dribbles out the side of your mouth involuntarily. 
Once you’re sure you've got the last drop you let Eddie fall out of your mouth with a pop. Eddie and Steve stare at you in awe, you look completely fucked out with you glassy eyes, swollen lips and cum dripping down to your chin. 
Steve can’t help himself - he’d missed the taste of Eddie too much-  he leans forward, licking from your chin to your mouth before capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss. Tongue frantically exploring every crevice, savouring any taste of Eddie he can get. 
Eddie watches you both, panting as he comes down from his high. He can see the outline of Steve’s hard cock straining painfully against his boxers, his mouth waters as he gets an idea. 
“I’d hate to break you two up but I think Stevie more than deserves some attention from us too sweetheart.”
You break the kiss with a wicked smile on your face, oh he definitely does.
“Wanna help me babe?” He asks you. 
“Please,” you reply too sweetly. 
“Alright, swap with me Steve,” Eddie instructs. 
The boys swap positions and Steve rids himself of his boxers before sitting in his spot on the bed. You swallow hard at the sight of his thick cock before you, much thicker than Eddie’s is and you’d struggled with his. Your uncertainty must show on your face because Steve tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Don’t worry, Eddie’s gotcha honey,” he reassures cockily. 
“I’m gonna put my hand on your head okay?” Eddie explains, “then I’m gonna move it so one of us is sucking him off while the other plays with his balls and then we’ll swap, sound okay?”
“Jesus…” Steve pants at the idea, there’s no way he’s gonna last with both of you playing with him. You nod at Eddie’s question as his hand comes to tangle softly in your hair. 
He guides you to Steve’s balls while he takes Steve’s tip into his mouth. Steve groans loudly at the sudden onslaught of pleasure from you both. 
You lick Steve’s fuzzy sack sloppily before chancing at taking one into your mouth and sucking lightly. He gasps at the feeling, accidentally bucking at the feeling. You expect Eddie to gag but you’re surprised at how easily Eddie takes him almost all the way down his throat before continuing to bob on him lazily. 
You feel Eddie tug your hair lightly, making you change positions with him. You open your mouth as far as it’ll go before taking Steve’s glistening tip into your mouth. The stretch to your jaw was intoxicating. 
You feel Eddie’s head move up again towards the tip so you release Steve from your mouth, thinking you’re swapping positions again but Eddie doesn’t let you move your head back to Steve’s balls. You watch as he continues to lick all over Steve’s shaft and tip, so you decide to copy his motions instead. 
You both lick messily around Steve, a mix of saliva and pre coating every inch of him. Every now and then you feel Eddie’s tongue graze your own until you’re both practically making out over the tip. You can hear Steve panting and moaning above you. Every time you glance up at him he's watching you both with a dazed, almost pained expression. 
“You guys are, fuck, I’m getting close,” Steve warns. 
At Steve's warning Eddie directs you back to Steve’s balls and you gleefully take one back into your mouth. Eddie takes most of Steve’s length into his mouth, deepthroating him and swallowing, before hallowing his cheeks and dragging his mouth up to the tip . He repeats this over and over until you feel Steve start to shake above you. 
Steve doesn’t even get a chance to warn you both before he’s cumming in Eddie’s mouth with a broken cry, hands flying to both of your heads, holding you both close to him. You’re the first to pull back, watching as Eddie sucks the last out of Steve’s tip with a whine. 
Eddie hears it, and before you see him swallow he’s crashing his lips to yours, shoving his cum covered tongue down your throat. You gasp as it invades your mouth but the sound quickly turns into a moan as you taste Steve on your tongue. 
The kiss is heated and dizzyingly dirty. You’re moaning into each other’s mouths, hands gripping on to each other as your bodies start to inch closer together. You think you’re finally going to feel Eddie’s body pressed against yours when he stops suddenly. 
Eddie could feel himself getting worked up again, and knew if this continued he would have a hard time holding back, wanting nothing more than to make you cum over and over again on his fingers, tongue and cock. Another time he reminds himself. 
All three of you sit panting, none of you willing to break the silence that’s fallen over the room. 
You laugh breathlessly, “holy shit”, you exclaim in disbelief at how the night had unfolded, it was perfect. 
Eddie and Steve copy your breathless laugh. 
“That good huh?” Eddie asks
“It was, shit, it was so good.” 
“Good,” steve responds, “it was fucking good for us too.”
“Fuck yeah,” Eddie agrees. 
“Alright,” Steve groans as he stands up with a stretch, “I desperately need a shower.”
You and Eddie roll your eyes and chuckle at Steve fondly, he sees and give you both the finger while walking back to the living room to grab his and Eddie’s bag, throwing it at the other boy, earning a full blown laugh from you. 
Eddie then stands up before flopping on to the bed, grabbing out to you until you crawl up beside him to join him. He lays on his back while you snuggle up on your side next to him, barely touching each other but close enough to take in the comfort of the others presence. 
“Ya know, if I didn’t know you better I’d think you were lying about being a virgin babe,” he says with no malice behind it, tucking your hair sweetly behind your ear.
You snort and roll your eyes at him. 
“I’m serious!” he assures you, “one of the best blowjobs of my life.” 
You shake your head at him but take the compliment anyway, a smile plastered to your face. 
You lie like that for a while, staring at each other in comfortable silence. Eddie loses himself in your gentle eyes, all the feelings he’s harboured since highschool threatening to spill once again. 
He keeps them to himself though, not wanting to ruin the moment and knowing that wasn’t what this was about. This was just about helping out a friend, so she could be more confident. So she can finally show everyone else the amazing person he’s always seen. 
He watches as your face seems to fall slightly, it’s a subtle change but he picks it up either way. 
“Hey,” he coos, “you still with me?”
“Y-yeah, im fine,” you insist. He doesn’t buy it. 
He gives you the look he always does when he sees straight through your lies, you know there’s no point hiding it. 
“I, um, I don’t know if I wanna be alone tonight,” you whisper. 
You hadn’t noticed the shower had stopped until you hear Steve walk into the room, beating Eddies to reply to you. 
“Duh, of course we’re staying,” he answers. You look up at him in the doorway, drying his hair with a towel and you notice the green and white plaid pjs hanging low on his hips and soft cotton shirt tight against his chest. 
“You’re staying?” you exclaim excitedly. 
“Of course,” Eddie chuckles, “Great sex always needs great aftercare little one.” He plants a sloppy smack of a kiss to your forehead before going for his turn in the shower. 
Steve flops down next to you on his stomach as you roll onto your back, looking up at his damp face and hair. 
“You have fun?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer. 
“So much fun,” you confirm with a smile.
“I think I died and went to heaven when you and Eddie were sucking me off together,” he laughs and you giggle at his dramatics, he’s definitely been spending too much time with Eddie.  
After your laughter has died down he looks at you seriously, tone softening “hey, I’m glad you trusted us enough to do this.”
“Me too,” you reply, soft tone matching his own.  
“And I know eds is glad too,” he continues, you can tell there’s something deeper behind that statement but you’re too tired and blissed out right now to care. 
“I hope so,” is all you reply instead. 
Eddie comes back into the room in his own black pj pants and worn band shirt, letting you know the shower is all yours.
You grab some pjs out of your drawers before having the quickest shower of your life, scared that you’ll take too long and by the time you get out they’ll be gone. This whole evening some sick hallucination your brain made up. 
After you’re dried and dressed you practically run to the room, heart swelling when you see the two men tucked into your bed, facing each other as they whisper softly, Steve on the side closest to your door. They’ve turned off all the lights bar your bedside lamp and have cleaned up all the stray pieces of clothing, all now in a pile at the corner of your room next to their bags. 
At hearing you enter the room Steve rolls on to his back, arm outstretched to you. You take his hand and he helps you climb over him and into the middle of both of them. They mumble hey pretty girl and hey honey and you snuggle up between the two. 
Eddie pulls you on to his chest as Steve snakes an arm around your waist, cuddling up to your back. You’ve all shared a bed together many times before but this time feels different, more intimate. You slowly drift off into a peaceful sleep to the sounds of Eddie’s heartbeat and Steve’s steady breathing. 
Tag List: @andvys @pxrxcxa @wroteclassicaly @eddiemunsonfuxks @usedtobecooler @translatemunson @glorykaterina @bandofoxxking @littledemondani @hellfirebabes @eveatethefruit
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brummiereader · 5 months
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MASTERLIST PREVIOUS PART
Unchained Melody (Part Six/Final Chapter)
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Summary: After a passionate night rekindling your marriage. Yours and Tommy's happy bubble of bliss quickly bursts when the Governess' deadly plan comes to fruition. With each of your lives in danger, will you be able to escape her devilish agenda, bringing her to justice for her harrowing acts of evil? Or will her crazed delusions become a reality for all those that still reside in Arrow House?
Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, violence, murder
Word Count: 6024
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"Tom..." You giggled your husband's name, sat on his office desk with his firm legs perched between your open thighs as his hand roamed up your dress, smiling into your mouth as he pressed hurried kisses to your plump lips. "...someone might walk in" you pulled back as he leaned forward, capturing your lips once again in a passionate embrace whilst pulling at the garter holding your stockings up. His fingers making quick work at discretely unclasping one. " You'll...you'll have Frances in a dizzy, if she walks in on us" you laughed breathlessly, swatting his hand away as you slid off the polished wood before he could venture any further, and things took a heated turn.
" A few hail Mary's, and a visit to confession. And our trusted housekeeper will still make it through the pearly gates after seeing the wicked things I'm gonna do with you" Tommy mumbled into your neck with a smirk, pecking kisses along your jaw as he quickly followed behind you. His hands finding their way back up the curves of your legs as he attempted to pull down the thin fabric of lace to the only heaven that awaited him.
Insatiable, would be putting it mildly. Your husband had become a raging, love-sick man intent on making up for lost time. The previous night of passion having ignited an unstoppable need in him to ravage you every waking moment of the day. Tommy was completely, utterly, smitten as the day he first met you.
"Tommy, everything's going to be ok, isn't it?" You asked, slowly turning to face him as he pulled back from kissing along your neck, and you came face to face with a furrowed expression sat firmly on his brows as he lifted his hands to your hips. Halting any further attempts to have his way with you.
" Why wouldn't it be, darling?" he replied perplexed, as an underlying concern as to what had you suddenly so worried quickly entered his confused thoughts.
" It's just..." You sighed, looking away as your husband's grip tightened. His own unease now rapidly seeping into his still fragile heart, over-shadowing the jovial moment
" Y/N?" Tommy's breath hitched, as he searched your eyes for your lack in response. Was you having second thoughts about him? Did you regret last night? Fuck. He was rushing things, wasn't he?
" ... we're happy, right?" you said as you rested your hands on his broad shoulders, agonisingly dragging out your full response to your husband who was now waiting with bated breath as he nervously watched your eyes dart around the room to anything but him. " I'm...I'm scared Tommy, that it'll all be taken away"
" Fuck, sweetheart..." Tommy breathed heavily, releasing the pressure from within his lungs. His rapidly beating heart enough for him to think he'd kill over at any second, having endured the few minutes that had felt like an eternity. "Listen to me, darling" he said, cupping your cheeks as his face inched closer to yours. " Me, you and William. That's all that matters. I won't let anyone, or anything take that away from us, alright?" he said, leaning in to place a reassuring peck to your lips as one last worry lingered in your thoughts.
" Just the three of us?" You asked, pulling your head away as the unspoken question as to the Governesses employment weighed heavy on your thoughts, having left Tommy to deal with her fate.
" She's gone" Tommy replied, believing his marching orders had been thoroughly followed through when he locked you both away in the refuge of your living room. Away from the buzzing chatter and dying music that had filled your home the previous night.
With your worries dispelled, and your husband's hand soothingly caressing the tresses of your hair. A sense of calm settled between you both as a peaceful smile flickered across your face. A reassuring enough smile to simmer your husband's own concerns as the welcome sound of pitter-patter running along the hallway had him beaming from ear to ear.
"Here comes trouble" Tommy chuckled, looking to the opening door when a squealing two year old came barraging through with wobbly legs and open arms, knocking everything in his path.
"Hi, darling!" You excitedly matched his liveliness, crouching down to wrap him tightly in your arms as Tommy knelt beside you with his hand rested on your lower back, steadying you from your energetic toddler. " We owe Frances a raise" you laughed as you looked to Tommy, who could only agree that your loyal housekeeper was well overdue an increase in wages for not only having to care for the majority of your child's spirited nature in your absence but, Tommy's sour mood she'd put up with for more than two years.
" It was me who looked after him this morning. Frances went into the city, to be seen by a doctor" your ears pierced hearing the voice of the one person you wished to never lay eyes on again as you looked over your son to see her smartly polished heels on the chestnut paneled flooring. Your flooring. Your home. Tommy said she was gone.
"Don't worry I won't be adding that bonus to my final pay check" she giggled as you and Tommy rose to your feet, your husbands eyes widening with a blaring fury." Train was cancelled" she smirked to your husband, who was seconds from wrapping his fingers around her throat and squeezing the smugness from her face.
"Tommy..." You grabbed hold of your husband's arm, gently urging him back when he quickly pushed you and William behind him and away from the woman who had unbeknownst to you, threatened your very lives the previous day.
Unhinged. A screw loose. Call it what you want. Tommy was taking no chances when it came to the safety of you and your child from the viper of a woman intent on not leaving without making it known how blindsided she felt she had been treated.
" William's doctor called from the hospital" she interrupted your husband's rising finger, and angry words ready to spill from within the tightening pressure of his jaw. " He wishes to check on his well-being. Thought you would like to accompany him Mrs Shelby, since you didn't bother when he was rushed to hospital" she chided, looking past your husband to William held tightly in your arms as you cradled his head protectively to your chest. " Shame we couldn't get better acquainted, considering we shared something in common. All but briefly for me, that was" she scoffed as she looked at your husband from head to toe, her eyes lingering on the silver buckle of his belt.
" The shame lies only with you" you quipped back as you walked to stand next to your husband's side. A strong enough message to the woman hell-bent on destroying your relationship, that all had been forgiven on both parts.
" The perfect little family" she seethed through a tight smile, attempting to hide the excitement of her revenge close to fruition." Well, I must be off. I have a train to catch" she said as she turned to the door before leaving one last dire statement. "Mr Giles the cook, has prepared you a flask of tea and some biscuits for your car ride to the hospital. Would be a...shame to forget" she smiled before her burgundy talons brushed behind the door, and your husband's jaw was all but ready to snap as he marched after her.
" One last time, Tommy. For old times sake?" She giggled as Tommy grabbed hold of her forearm, dragging her up the stairs to the small bedroom she once occupied at the far end of the hallway.
With little care for the manners any man of his time would possess for the opposite sex. Tommy, without mercy, pushed her with force into her room, letting her stumble onto the ground into a flustered heap.
" Get the fuck out of my house, do you hear me?!" Tommy's voice boomed through the bricked walls of your home, ignoring her lewd comments as he lifted her suitcase from the top of the wardrobe. Raging with anger, Tommy pulled her clothes from their hangers, throwing them into the wooden case as the rest of her belongings quickly followed with little regard for their value or sentimental meaning.
" Oh, come on, Tommy. While we're up here, we might as well" she purred as she stood up, stroking her fingers along the shimmering of sweat that had gathered on his chin.
" I warned you" Tommy seethed through gritted teeth, grabbing her face and burying his fingers into her porcelain skin until hitting bone. " I fucking warned you!" He screamed in her face before pushing her away from him, revolted by the sight of her.
" Daddy, uh oh" Young William babbled as his doe eyes beamed up at you while you waited in the foyer, nervously bouncing from foot to foot.
" Yes, darling. Daddy's not happy" you said, covering your child's innocent ears from your husband's bellowing voice.
" One hour. I want you gone! Else you'll be leaving in that suitcase" Tommy said breathlessly, as he threw her coat at her before slamming the door shut with enough force to rattle the whole building, and everyone's jilted nerves from hearing his thundering threats.
" Tommy?" Your voice wobbled with worry as he stormed down the stairs to you and his child.
" She's going, ok? She's going" Tommy said cupping the curve of your cheek, pressing a kiss to the crown of William's head as he held you both within the protection of his arms.
" Tommy, If she hasn't given up now, she won't ever" you replied, clutching on to his suit jacket as Tommy looked down at the distress casting a dewy shadow of tears in the wells of your eyes.
" She'll be gone by the time you get back" Tommy reassured, rubbing his thumb over your wetted cheek as your maid Ethel approached with a small satchel of tea and homemade oat biscuits.
" Mam" She said, handing them to you as you juggled to keep your wriggly two year old desperate to get moving from leaping from your arms.
" Maybe I should call the doctor, and cancel?" you proposed, wanting to stay with Tommy in fear of his safety as much as your own as he helped you with the leather-strapped bag, securing it tightly onto your shoulder.
" You gonna wield a gun for me, darling? " Tommy chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. Finding your endearing comments about his safety, the most notorious gangster of Birmingham, with anything but the weight you said them with.
" Tom, I'm serious" you huffed as the engine to your husband's latest purchase revved on the gritted path outside your home.
" Don't worry about me, eh? Tommy smiled, stroking his hand down the curve of your back as he accompanied you both into the welcome sun of a cloudless spring day. "Be a good boy for mum, son" Tommy said as he opened the door, ruffling Williams hair into a messy mane of dark locks. " I love you" your husband's voice soothed your shaky nerves as he bent down to capture your lips, gently sweeping his tongue against yours in a longing embrace before closing the door and heading back into the cool foyer of his grand home.
Fifty minutes, and counting. Tommy's brow furrowed as he looked down at his pocket watch with a heavy sigh before storming off to the sanctuary of his office as he counted down the minutes to the Governesses departure. A departure Tommy would make certain was upheld. This time she would be dealt with personally, by him. In whichever way he saw fit. But nonetheless, quietly, and away from your eyes he had done his best to keep his murderous business doings from seeing.
But the Governess had no intentions of going quietly, if going at all. With her plan to be rid of you and the obstacle your presence brought to her ultimate goal close to fulfillment, she began to unpack her belongings. Neatly hanging them one by one back into the large wardrobe of her former lodgings before turning onto the hallway and to the room she had been barred from since the day of her arrival at Arrow House. Yours and Tommy's master bedroom.
Sat at your vanity in one of the many silk pieces of exquisite French lingerie Tommy had brought you over the years, the Governess ran her fingers slowly through her hair, pining each section in place to favor the likeness of your own soft locks.
" Mrs Shelby. Pleasure to meet you" She giggled as she caressed the curve of her jaw, admiring herself in the weathered glass of your dresser as she played through the introductions her crazed mind thought she would soon be addressing the many acquaintances of your husband.
As her fingers glided over the various trinkets and glass bottles of perfumes sat on the mahogany wood. Her curious hands came to sit over a small silver box carved in flowers. With no regard to your personal belongings, much like Tommy held little for hers when he furiously threw her possessions into the suitcase she had now unpacked. The Governess opened the monogrammed case with your engraved initials to see a twinkling set of pearl drop earrings, sitting within the black velvet lining.
" Oh my, Tommy" she said as her eyes beamed at the delicate jewellery that was undoubtedly worth more than she had ever made or possessed, before quickly snatching them from within the box and clutching them in her envious hands as she threw the small silver tin to the floor.
With the precious jewels Tommy had once gifted you now adorning the ears of the woman that held nothing but hate for you, her attention landed on the small picture frame sat in front of her.
" Mrs Shelby" she seethed though gritted teeth as the contours of her face twisted in a thirst to have any remnant of you destroyed, abolished.
Picking up the framed memory of you and Tommy on your wedding day, the Governesses thumb sat over the picture of your beaming face as her sharply pointed nail slowly pierced through the thin glass, leaving a trail of blood seeping down the white lace of your marriage gown.
" Mrs Shelby" she relaxed her taut shoulders, clearing her throat as she leaned forward to her reflection to dab away the watering charcoal lining the pools of her twitching eyes. "Mrs Agness Shelby..."
Stepping out of the car with William hitched on your hip, you looked up at the imposing hospital sat before you as you apprehensively made your way into the bricked building. The same bricked building your son was rushed to mere days ago.
What did they think of your absence on that frightful day he was rushed into their care? Would they question your role as his prime caretaker, his mother? With too many unwelcome worries clouding your thoughts, you pushed through your nagging anxiety with one determined foot in front of the other, making your way through the double doors to the front desk.
" Excuse me" your timid voice spoke to the secretary filing various documents piled in her hands, the chaos any hospital would bring dulling your voice. " Excuse me, Mam" you spoke above the noise of beds with patients both old and young being wheeled behind you with a following of nurses, doctors and worried family members.
" Oh, I'm sorry dear. We're awfully busy today. There must be something in the air. Emergency or appointment? "The older lady who had seen every bruise, cough and broken bone in her many years working in a hospital smiled to you as she sat down, relieved to finally rest her tired feet.
" Appointment" you replied, adjusting William on your waist, his restless legs wanting to explore the unfamiliar surroundings and all its many enticing doors.
" With who, my lovely?" She said opening the hefty book of appointments in front of her.
" Oh, I...I don't...I'm sorry I don't know his name" you replied with heated cheeks, worried a barrage of questions as to why a child's own mother wouldn't make note of her sons doctor was heading your way.
" Don't fret dear. I couldn't even remember what day of the week it was when my little sprouts were that age" she chuckled, earning a relieved smile from you. Her gentle demeanor dispelling your previous worries into silly notions not worth the concern. " What's your name young sir?" She smiled to William as his chubby cheeks dimpled at the elder woman's friendly nature.
" This is William, William Shelby" you beamed, tickling under his chin as he squealed. Playfully kicking his little booted feet back and forth.
" Young William Shelby, I remember you. How could I have forgotten those beautiful blue eyes" she gushed before turning the page to your son's doctors' schedule. " How strange..." She frowned as her fingers flicked back and forth between the pages.
" Is there a problem?" you questioned, leaning forward into the desk separating you as Williams patience with being held had reached an all-time limit, having now perfected the art of walking, he saw no use in standing idle, when one could simply run everywhere. Much to your dismay.
" We don't have any appointments for William today. The doctor that tended to him is out on call" she said, looking up to you as your mind racked with confusion.
" Oh..." You replied, a sudden flash of fear settling in your stomach, and back to your home Arrow House. Back to Tommy.
" Would you like me to jot down an appointment for him tomorrow, dear?" She smiled, bringing you back from your sudden quietness and distracted thoughts.
" No, no thank you. We need to head back" you politely declined, before saying goodbye and hurrying to the car that awaited you outside.
" We're nearly home, William" you hushed your child's cries seated in the back of the car with you. " Look, you can see the house from here, darling" you enthusiastically pointed out to him. Your attempts to calm his grumbling belly going ignored as he rolled around in his seat, thrashing his arms against the padded cushion.
" We can stop 'ere mam, for a few minutes? Let him get some fresh air" Gerry your driver asked, slowing down the car to a grassy opening blooming with meadow flowers on the side of the road.
" Yes, I think we had better" you chuckled, quickly flinging the door open and grabbing the satchel of tea and biscuits as William hoped down the seat behind you.
" Tea, Gerry?" You asked your driver as he leaned against the car, puffing away on his pipe as you filled your small metal cup to the brim, then resting It on the grass as William happily munched his way through his second biscuit next to you.
" Thank you. Lovely" he walked forward, bending down to take the metal cup of tea when Williams eager hands reached for another delicious treat, knocking the contents of your mug into the ground. " William careful, sweetheart!"
"Yucky!" your son shouted, pulling faces at the sizzling liquid burning through the grass. " Yucky, yucky!" He pointed, as you pulled him away from the substance corroding rapidly through the muddied ground that you and your driver were seconds from drinking.
" Don't touch it!" Gerry warned, throwing his cup to the ground before kicking the remnants in the large flask into the dirt with the tip of his boot.
" Gerry?" Your voice shook, as your eyes darted between him and your son, looking lovingly up at you as he held tightly onto your summer blouse.
" Rat poison, Mam..."
Agness.
Two minutes. Tommy huffed looking down at his gold pocket watch, awaiting the sound of the Governesses heals descending the stairs, when the door to his office flew open.
" Mr Shelby!" Frances hurried towards him clutching her bandaged wrist, with an urgent matter needing his acknowledgment.
" Frances?" Tommy's brow scrunched together as he rose from his seat, unaccustomed to seeing his trusted employee in such a frantic state. " Your wrist" he said cupping it within his hands as he inspected the efficiency of the bandaging, having bundled up many of his own broken bones and injuries in his time.
" Mr Shelby, I need to speak with you" she desperately tried to garner his attention as Tommy walked to his phone, now intent on her being seen by one of his own doctors after having had a small briefing by your cook Mr Giles about her suspicious injury and his insistance on her being seen by a doctor that morning.
" You'll be seen by my doctor, today. Gerry will take you in the car. 125 Temple road, Birmingham. Dr Mil..." Tommy replied as he was put through to the operator at the other end of the phone when all formalities flew out the window and your usually reserved housekeeper interrupted him. Or rather, shouted at him.
" Thomas Shelby! Listen. Please..." The desperation in her voice rose as Tommy lowered the phone and a hint of a smirk peaked at the corner of his mouth, finding a small amount of amusement in being talked to like a mother would her unruly child by his most diligent, quietest worker.
" Young Billy, the scared mite..." She sighed as Tommy's attention finally turned to her and what she urgently had to say. "Informed me late last night of something weighing heavy on his heart since the day little William was rushed to hospital"
" I'm listening" Tommy's posture straightened as he urged her to continue.
"He was in the kitchen with your wife and the Governess when William was handed the chestnuts to eat. But what Billy saw, was not Mrs Shelby picking them out for him, but the Governess, Mr Shelby. Agness. Fully aware of your son's allergy" she finished as the unimaginable news of yours your son's life purposely put in danger in a viscous act of revenge had your husband's heart rapidly thump within his chest as his mouth suddenly went dry. "That's not all..." Her eyes glazed over with worry, as Tommy's widened at the possibility that anything more damning could be revealed. "I found this in the kitchen next to some freshly brewed tea on my return" her voice wobbled uncovering a small bottle of rat poison as Tommy's mind swiftly homed in on the tartan patterned flask you were given that morning.
With every vein in his body pulsing with horror, your husband quickly descended into a state of shock as his stare narrowed in on the bottle of poison in Frances' hand before his eyes flew up to the ceiling and the occupant of the room it once belonged to.
" My wife...my son" Tommy's panicked eyes looked to Frances, believing the unthinkable as an unprecedented fury suddenly overtook every fear he had let his mind believe, and he stormed from his office, gun securely by his side, to the room of the woman he would show no mercy to.
" Get Johnny and his boys here, now!" Tommy bellowed from the top of the landing, pushing through his trembling body and weighted feet as he marched to her room whilst a gathering of employees descended into the foyer after hearing the commotion.
With an empty room and an equally empty suitcase sitting on her bed, Tommy stormed to the master bedroom, throwing the door open. With his eyes widening in disbelief, Tommy came to face the sight of the governess sprawled upon your satin linen bedding, dressed in a dusty pink corset you would wear in your most intimate moments with him, and your jeweled earrings pierced through the lobes of her ears.
" Tommy, I've been waiting for you" her sultry voice oozed as she swept her hand across the empty space where your husband would rest his tired head next to yours.
" My wife, my child..." Tommy's voice lowly mumbled as his body began to stiffen with a hatred, a blaring anger curling deep within the pits of his stomach for the woman callously smiling at him.
" Have they been taken ill?" She batted her lashes as she slipped off the bed and approached him, unable to hide the smirk toying on the edge of her painted lips.
With a roar mustered from the depths of his breaking heart, Tommy lunged forward, wrapping his fingers around her neck until her body slammed into the vanity she had spent the past hour pruning herself to favor your appearance.
" Tommy..." She spluttered as she winced at his tightening grip, watching his eyes glaze over into darkening pools of terror. " Remember..." She coughed as she grabbed hold of his arm, his pulsing veins protruding furiously to the surface of his skin as his muscles tightened. " Remember, the time we spent together. The way..." She managed to mutter through labored breaths as Tommy's head cocked to the side, a scoff leaving his mouth while his grip loosened. Toying with her inevitable fate as he waited for her to finish. " The way I made you feel. How I made you cum" she swallowed, brushing her hand along his chest in attempts to calm his fury as she allowed the brief moment to capture her breath before Tommy's fingers trailed up her neck to the pearls dangling from her ears.
" I thought about my wife the entire time" he whispered through gritted teeth to her. Enjoying the look of fury mounting on her face before ripping the earrings from her flesh and clasping his fingers back around her swollen neck, tightening notch by notch with the twist of his hand.
With the remaining air being sucked from her lungs, the Governess frantically clawed at your husband's arm as the force of his grip pushed her back against the mirror, and her desperate fingers searched behind her for something, anything to hinder him.
As Tommy watched the life slip slowly from her ghostly face. The Governess, with her last breath, grabbed hold of a silver nail file, piercing it through your husband's abdomen just as you reached your shared room after racing to Arrow House with the fear your husband had ultimately met his own deathly ending at the hands of the Governess.
With a look of horror on your face at the sight before you, you stepped back in disbelief. The Governess dressed in your lingerie, pinned up against your vanity, breathing heavily as your grunting husband looked down between them.
No...no! You internally screamed to yourself as you stumbled back from what your mind could only make sense of, as your husband fucking the woman he had forbid from ever entering your home again.
In a state of searing shock, your crushed heart betrayed you with a response of complete silence as you slipped away, running past Johnny and his men in the foyer. Fleeing from your house once again.
Looking down at the trail of blood seeping through his ivory shirt, Tommy grunted as he pulled the metal file from his flesh as the Governess struggled off the dresser, only to be stopped when your husband's lust for her death dulled the burning pain scorching through his body, and his hand flew around her neck as she began to thrash in his hold once again. Tightening and tightening, he squeezed her bruising skin, wringing the life from her with so much force, she fell to the floor, causing Tommy to let go.
" Tom!" Johnny's voice shouted as he ran to the room, his trusted clan of men closely following behind him. " Jesus, bloody Christ in heaven..." Johnny's eyes widened, stopping to see Tommy looming with his gun over the spluttering Governess as blood dripped from his open stomach.
" You killed my wife, my son!" Tommy screamed, his watering eyes blurring his trembling vision as he cocked his gun, whilst Johnny slowly approached with his hands up.
" Steady there, Tom" Johnny spoke lowly, inching forward to him like you would a startled horse, when your husband's dazed mind turned the gun to his friend, warning him to not come between him and his revenge for blood spilled.
" Y/N, William....they're not dead, Tommy. They're safe" he reassured him as he rested his hand over the gun pointed straight to his chest. " Saw her with my own eyes. God is my witness" he looked to the heavens as Tommy brows furrowed together. "Bolted past me only five minutes ago, Tom. Come on now, ey?" he said as Tommy's shaky hand lowered, and he let out a guttural whimper as he hunched over. The news of yours and Williams safety, knocking the wind from his straining lungs.
Brushing the tears from his eyes, Tommy let go of the gun into his trusted friends hand, the sniffling Governesses heavily breathing on the floor beside him no longer his main concern, but instead you, and the fear of losing you again in the chaos and confusion.
"See to it, Johnny" he said nodding his head to the Governess weakly clawing at his feet for mercy before storming from the room.
" Can you swim?" Johnny cheerfully smiled as he bent down to her eye level.
" No..." She croaked as her eyes widened at Johnny's approaching men with a long hemp rope in their hands.
"Perfect. Lads..." he replied, standing up lighting a cigarette as he motioned to his men when a frightened scream of terror from the Governesses lungs pierced through Arrow House.
What were you doing? You cried to yourself as you walked along the empty country road, fleeing once again. Would you really do this to your son, for a second time? You asked yourself suddenly coming to a stop, Arrow house in the distance no longer looking miles away like it once did, but a mere five minutes' walk.
" Mummy, mummy!" William wailed in the front seat of the car as Tommy raced along the same road, frantically looking for you.
" There she is, look William. Mummy's right there" Tommy said, relieved to have spotted you in the distance as his tires came to a screeching stop, and he grabbed your son, shouting your name as he raced towards you.
" William..." You whispered as you turned to see Tommy running towards you with your child bouncing in his arms, your brows furrowing at the crimson red stain on your husband's shirt.
"Wha...what..." Your voice could barely utter as your husband approached you and you looked down at the fleshy wound visible through the thin fabric of his clothing, your mind suddenly whirring with the possibilities of what actually happened in the room you had fled from, and the mistake you could have made.
" I...I thought she'd killed you" Tommy's voice wobbled pulling you into his chest, as your fingers pulled the cotton from his seeping wound. " She stabbed me before I could finish her off. Crazed bitch" he scoffed, annoyed by the fact she had hindered him for the briefest of moments from squeezing her last breath from her. " It's just a scratch" he cleared his throat, attempting to settle any fears you might have as he winced at your streaming tears stinging his bloodied wound.
" Tom" you cried nestling into him and your son, as the sudden realisation that what you had seen was far from what your paranoid mind had cruelly tricked you into believing.
" Don't do this, darling. Don't leave. Fuck, my heart can't take it again" Tommy lifted your chin to his watery eyes, a show of emotion he had only reserved for moments of solitude and the joyous birth of your child, pooling above his cheeks. " I need you Y/N. We need you" he sniffed as he looked down at William in his arms, wrapping his hand firmly around your back, not wanting or willing to let you leave again. His mind screaming with worry that everything had been too much. Everything he had brought you back to, too fucking much for you to withstand again.
Tired of fleeing from your troubled thoughts, your eyes drifted up to your husband's waiting gaze as you nodded your head. In confirmation to not only him but yourself that the love he endlessly held for you, would get you through anything else that was to be thrown your way.
"Fuck...I need a bloody holiday after this" Tommy chuckled with a sigh of relief pressing his lips to your temple, as William curiously pocked his finger into the puddles sitting on your cheeks." How about it William, eh? He said looking past his chin to your two year old grinning up at him with dimpled cheeks and floppy hair. " Shall we take mummy to the seaside?" Tommy smiled down at his little family and the memory of the promise he could only dream of fulfilling, the only image of you happily together his mind could muster up to get him through his sleepless nights without you. " What do you say, mummy?"
" Just the three of us" you smiled up at him, pressing a keen kiss to his waiting lips as your eyes fluttered close, enjoying the peace of a troublesome chapter your life had tested you with, coming to it's long awaited end.
With his family tightly nestled against his tired body, Tommy freed his weighted thoughts as he pressed his forehead against yours, his grazing lips brushing against your own, curving into a smile as the rhyme you once sang to settle your child quietly hummed from his lips.
Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside.
" Are you sure you want to see this?" Tommy pulled you to his side later that night, warming your body next to his from the bitter cold that had descended on Small Heath as you both stood in unison under the cover of dark near the icy waters of the cut.
" I'm sure" you replied, looking through the mist to the edge of the riverbank at Johnny Dogs and his men tying the end of a rope to a silver iron anchor. The other end of that line, securely fastened to the Governesses feet.
" No! Please!" She screamed to the men awaiting their orders, when she spotted you standing with Tommy through the darkness of the night.
" We're...we're the same, you and me. Both troubled minds" she pleaded with you, playing on your sympathy as a fellow woman and the tender heart any mother would have. " Show pity on me!" she wailed as Tommy pressed a kiss to the side of your temple, feeling your body tense with anger at the woman who had shown no remorse for the life of your son she viciously put in danger. " Please!"
"Darling, it's time" Tommy looked down at you, giving your arm a gentle squeeze of reassurance.
Mercy was to be earned. But even then, clemency for those with wicked minds like that of the Governess who had devilishly wormed her way into your home, and put all your lives at risk. Death, was their only saving grace.
" No!" She screamed as you nodded to Johnny, giving the order for him to send her to the depths of Birmingham's rotting water, to be at one with the discarded waste of Small Heaths residents.
With one firm shove of his hand, your husband's loyal friend pushed the Governess into the frosty river, the weight of her body slowly inching her fate tied to the anchor closing in on the banks edge, until tipping over the bricked pavement and pulling her rapidly down to the waters bed. Justice, at last.
" Let's go home, darling" Tommy turned you in his arms to the alleyway with your cars beaming headlights, and guzzling engine waiting for you.
"Lets" you smiled up at him, burying yourself into the warmth of his coat and his firm body huddled next to yours.
The love of a family unchained. A melody of life's obstacles that would now only live on through the troubles of the past. Arrow House and its family of three would carry on, as if time had never kept them apart. With you always, and forever, the lady of the house. Mrs Shelby.
The end.
Thank you to everyone that commented, reblogged and liked this series. Your interactions throughout, gave me the energy boost I needed to finish this emotional rollercoaster. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this final chapter, and if it ended how you had hoped! Thank you again, my lovelies ❤️.
Brummie xxx
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