#the double language posts RETURNS!
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polarisbibliotheque · 2 years ago
Note
Oh hey hey, you said you write in portuguese? Cê fala português???????????
Ooooo queeeeee cê fala português também??? Eu tô chocada!!!! Hahahahaha
Mas sim, sou de terras brasilienses, também conhecidas como inferno pelos gringos, e primeiro comecei escrevendo em português. Survivor's Blood é a primeira que eu resolvi traduzir e postar aqui, depois de ficar um bom tempo escrevendo no blog e me acostumar em escrever em inglês!
Sinceramente, acho que tô escrevendo em inglês melhor que em português HAHAHA
Mas olha, sempre fico impressionada com a quantidade de gente poliglota nesse site ^^
***
ENGLISH VERSION
Whaaaaat ya speak portuguese too??? I'm shocked!!!! Hahahahaha
But yes, I'm from brazilian lands, also known as hell by gringos, and I first started writing in portuguese. Survivor's Blood is the first I decided to translate and post here, after a good long time writing on the blog and getting used to writing in english!
Honestly, I think I'm writing better in english than in portuguese HAHAHA
But you know, I'm always impressed with the amount of polyglots in this website ^^
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bucketsorbueckers · 4 days ago
Text
Trouble - 6
Age gap Azzi x Paige
WC: 7K
Warnings: language
a/n: a double post bc im trapped inside with rain and you all are so loud about your love for this story it makes me want to write 24/7 <3
Caroline: azzi r u awake
Jana: azzi u need to be awake right now
Caroline: you never sleep in this late
Jana: like are u alive. blink twice
Caroline: or text back once. that also works
Jana: ok whatev. just sayin i knoww this is you. impossible to miss.
(photo attached)
Paige stands between two fans outside a bar, halfway smiling, the picture blurry and rushed. But behind her—just out of focus—is a flash of curls, bare legs, and Paige’s hand tucked casually, unmistakably, into the waistband of someone’s skirt.
Caroline: it’s all over the internet. good luck ❤️
Meanwhile....
Courtney: You awake?
Bridget: She’s definitely awake. Just ignoring us. Like a coward.
Courtney: Open Instagram, Bueckers.
Bridget: Or Twitter. Or TikTok. Or honestly any platform with Wi-Fi.
Courtney: You’re trending.
Bridget: And not for buckets. Unless we’re counting the hand placement.
Courtney: 👀👀👀👀
Bridget: Do your fingers normally go in people’s waistbands or is that reserved for 23-year-old rookies?
Azzi’s POV
Azzi woke slow.
The kind of slow that only came with deep, consuming sleep. Her limbs heavy. Her breath even. The air cool against her skin.
She didn’t open her eyes at first—just listened. To the faint hum of the fan. The occasional sound of a car outside. The soft, steady rhythm of breathing that wasn’t hers. Warmth. There was so much warmth. All around her. Beneath her.
Wait.
Her eyes blinked open.
Bed. 
Not hers. 
Shirt.
Also not hers.
Arm. Around her.
Fingers. Definitely tucked under the hem of said not-her-shirt.
Her breath caught.
Oh no. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god.
Paige Bueckers’ face, just inches from hers. Soft in sleep. The sharpness she wore during the day was gone now, melted into something unguarded. Her mouth parted slightly. Lashes casting shadows on her cheekbones. A wrinkle just barely formed between her brows, like even unconscious, she was thinking too hard.
Azzi's hand moved before her brain could stop it. Fingers trembling as she reached up, slow and unsure, like maybe if she touched gently enough, the moment wouldn’t break. She traced the line of Paige’s jaw, featherlight. Her skin was warm. Soft in a way Azzi hadn’t expected.
Paige twitched.
Abort mission.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as flashes of the night returned in uneven pieces. The bar. The drinks. The phone call. The crying. Oh god, the crying.
You called her. You told her you didn’t know your address. You made her come pick you up like you were a lost toddler in heels. You got into her bed.
You got into her bed.
She pressed her palms over her face and immediately regretted it because—hangover. Pain bloomed behind her eyes like firecrackers.
Paige stirred beside her and Azzi froze. Maybe if she didn’t move—didn’t breathe—time would reverse and she could pretend this was a dream. Or maybe the earth would open up and swallow her whole.
Honestly, at this point, she’d take either.
Azzi inhaled. Shallow. Cautious. Like her breath alone might trigger an avalanche.
She needed to move. To get out. To put a body-width’s worth of regret between her and the woman currently holding her.
Carefully she started to shift. One inch. Then two. She tried to slide her leg free but it was tangled. Of course it was tangled. Because Paige Bueckers had apparently wrapped herself around her mid-sleep and was holding on for dear life.
Azzi braced one hand on the mattress and inched back and felt the arm around her waist tighten.
Her heart lodged somewhere in her throat. Paige shifted behind her. A breath against her neck. A sharp inhale. And sighed as if content.
Then, like a trap snapping shut, the body curled around hers went rigid. The arm retracted in a flash, Paige pulling back like she’d just realized she was cuddling a live grenade.
Azzi didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. She could feel the heat rolling off Paige’s body, the tension wound so tight it practically buzzed.
“Shit,” Paige muttered, voice cracking from sleep and maybe a little panic.
Azzi rolled half onto her back, heart hammering. Paige was already halfway upright, blinking down at her.
“Morning,” Azzi offered, trying not to die.
Paige didn’t answer. She just dragged a hand down her face like she was rebooting her entire system.
Then, finally—still not looking at her—she muttered, “You talk in your sleep.”
Azzi blinked. “What?”
“You said my name.” Paige stood. Avoided eye contact. Walked straight into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.
Azzi flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling like it had answers.
Her head was killing her. Not in a cute, oops-too-much-tequila way. In a someone-drilled-straight-through-my-skull-while-I-slept way. Her mouth tasted like regret and lime. Her stomach sloshed with something unholy. And the worst part—worse than the hangover, worse than the bone-deep ache settling into her joints—was the fact that she’d woken up on Paige Bueckers.
Wrapped around her, actually. Like a weighted blanket with boundary issues.
She groaned and flung an arm over her eyes, hoping the mattress might swallow her whole. Or at least deliver a mild electrocution.
But then, Paige appeared in the doorway, looking stupidly good.
Her blonde hair was down, strands curling from sleep and brushing against her cheekbones. She was barefoot, wearing a worn-in sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder, collar stretched from years of wear. Her eyes were still a little puffy with sleep, mouth soft, like she hadn’t fully woken up yet—and it was all so stupidly intimate Azzi wanted to throw something.
This was not how people were supposed to look after panic-spooning their drunk teammate teammate twenty minutes ago. This was how people looked in daydreams you weren’t supposed to have in the first place.
She tossed a bottle of Tylenol onto the bed. “Figured you’d need that,” she said, already pulling her hair back.
And just like that, Azzi had a new problem: Paige didn’t wear her hair down nearly enough. She should. There should be laws about it, actually.
“I’ll make coffee,” Paige added, her voice way too normal for the situation, and then she turned and disappeared down the hall.
Azzi lingered in bed for exactly thirty more seconds. Long enough to dramatically contemplate her life choices. Not long enough to make peace with any of them.
The Tylenol sat mockingly on the comforter beside her, and she swallowed two without water like the feral child she apparently was. Then, against every instinct in her body that begged her to sink back into Paige’s very soft, clearly expensive sheets and pretend she had vanished overnight, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood.
Bad idea. The room tilted. The headache pulsed. The oversized shirt slipped a little off her shoulder, brushing against skin that still felt too warm from—whatever last night had been.
A rescue mission? A soft abduction? A very specific fever dream?
She padded into the hallway barefoot, her legs cold and bare, Paige’s boxers rolled too high on her hips—something she hadn’t exactly planned for when she’d tugged them on drunk last night. They kept sliding up like they had a mind of their own, clinging to her in all the wrong places. Or maybe the right ones. Depends who was looking.
She looked, she imagined, like the patron saint of poor decisions.  And she definitely lived up to the name.
As she turned the corner, the smell of coffee hit her first. Then the sound of the machine gurgling and the quiet hum of Paige moving around the kitchen. Azzi padded in slowly, curling her fingers around the doorway like it might shield her.
Paige was facing away, pouring coffee into two mugs. She was wearing the same hoodie from earlier—dark gray, sleeves pushed to her elbows, the hem hitting mid-thigh over her checkered boxers. Her legs looked stupid long. Her posture was too casual. And Azzi had never wanted to turn around and flee more in her life.
Instead, she cleared her throat.
Paige glanced over her shoulder, eyes sweeping from Azzi’s bare legs to her curls to the very obvious fact that she was still dressed in Paige’s clothes.
“Feeling better?” Paige asked, handing over a mug like it was any normal Saturday morning and not the aftermath of Azzi accidentally calling the one person she should’ve never called.
Azzi took the coffee. Avoided eye contact. Tried not to combust.
“I’ve been worse,” she said, voice still rough with sleep.
“That’s something.” Paige leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, her gaze steady.
“I didn’t mean to call you,” she mumbled finally, staring down at the swirl of cream in her coffee. “Well—I did. But I didn’t plan to. I wasn’t—God, I sound like a freshman explaining a drunk text.”
Paige took a slow sip. Still didn’t look at her.
“You were scared. It’s fine.”
Azzi rubbed her eyes. “No, I was—God—I was embarrassing.”
Paige said nothing at first. Just stood there, still too composed for someone who should be as rattled as Azzi felt. Her arms were crossed. Her jaw tight.
Azzi forced a weak laugh. “Seriously, is there anything I need to apologize for? Because I barely remember how I got here, let alone what I said—”
“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” Paige cut in. Voice flat. Too flat.
Azzi blinked. Her stomach turned, not from the hangover this time. But then Paige exhaled through her nose and uncrossed her arms. Finally glanced over.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, a little softer this time. “You were drunk. And scared. And you called me, which is fine.”
Azzi’s throat burned. “That doesn’t make it not mortifying.”
There was a long pause. Then Paige set her coffee down and leaned her hip against the counter.
“Yeah, well. We’ve all been there.”
Azzi raised an eyebrow. “You?”
Paige shrugged. “I used to be young once too.”
Azzi opened her mouth to ask what exactly Paige had done in her younger, wilder days that could rival last night’s tequila-induced spiral but Paige spoke first.
“You can sit down, you know. Contrary to what you clearly expected, my chairs aren’t just for show.”
Azzi had no idea what she meant by that but she still hesitated. 
“I figured I’d overstayed my welcome.”
Paige’s brow twitched. “I’m not having you throw up in my car when I drive you home. Sit. Let’s get something in your stomach before we make any further plans.”
Azzi tilted her head “You cook?”
Paige didn’t look up as she opened the fridge, tugging out eggs and something that looked suspiciously like oat milk. “There’s plenty you don’t know about me, Fudd.”
Azzi leaned forward on her elbows, chin propped in her hand, completely gone. She told herself it was just curiosity. Just…interest. That was all. Not infatuation. Not this quiet, chest-aching thing that made her stomach tilt every time Paige did something completely mundane like push the fridge door shut with the side of her hip.
But it was hard to argue interest with the way Azzi watched her. Not when she was clocking every move like it mattered. Like she’d never seen someone make eggs before. Like the morning sunlight hitting Paige’s profile through the kitchen window was something worth praying too.
The pan sizzled. She threw bread into the toaster.
Paige moved around like the apartment had been designed around her—like it knew where her hands would reach, when her body would pivot, how she liked her spices arranged. She opened a drawer, grabbed a spatula, shut it with her hip again. Efficient. Effortless. Sexy in a way that made Azzi want to melt into the fucking hardwood floors.
And god, it was clean. That was the other thing. Everything in here gleamed. The countertops were spotless. The tile was pale and polished. The cabinets matched. The fridge was smart. The furniture looked like it had cost more than Azzi’s entire rent, and somehow, none of it felt cold.
It felt…lived in. Softened by routine. A house that had become a home. And it made her suddenly self-conscious about her own apartment—half-unpacked, cluttered with laundry, toothpaste cap always missing, fridge suspiciously empty except for energy drinks and string cheese.
She dragged her eyes back to Paige just in time to see her crack an egg with one hand, wrist flicking like it was second nature.
Showoff.
Paige didn’t even seem aware of the spell she was casting. Her blonde hair was tied back into that same low bun it always was, but sleep had curled the ends and loosened it just enough to make her look heartbreakingly soft. One piece kept falling in front of her eyes, and she kept brushing it back without thinking. Over and over. And Azzi couldn’t stop staring.
Couldn’t stop thinking: She’s beautiful like this. Like real-life beautiful. Not the kind Azzi had first became infatuated with when she was younger. The highlight reels. The thirst traps she had admittedly watched more than she wanted to admit. 
Just her. Making breakfast in boxers. In an apartment that smelled like fresh coffee and laundry detergent. And Azzi didn’t want to be anywhere else.
She watched as Paige reached for a plate, sliding eggs and toast onto it like this wasn’t the first meal she’d made for someone hungover in her bed. Like she’d done it before. Jealousy flared sharp in Azzi’s chest, stupid and misplaced. But still.
Paige set the plate down in front of her and handed over a fork. “Eat.”
Azzi blinked up at her. “You’re very bossy for someone who offered me hospitality.”
“You’re very mouthy for someone who cried at a bar and called me at 1 AM.”
Azzi winced. “You said you weren’t holding that against me.”
“I’m not,” Paige said, pulling out the chair across from her. “I’m just stating facts.”
Azzi tried a bite. Fought the urge to moan. They were perfect. She flicked her eyes up to find Paige watching her with a smug expression. But she said nothing. 
They sat like that for a minute. Quiet. Close. And Azzi could feel the tension stretching between them again
Paige finally leaned back in her chair, sipping her coffee. “So?”
Azzi blinked. “So…?”
“Do you remember anything? Or is it just one big tequila blackout?”
Azzi poked at her eggs. “Bits and pieces.”
“Define ‘bits.’”
“I remember calling you. And crying. Which is deeply humiliating, by the way. And I remember…water? And your couch.” She glanced up through her lashes. “Not much after that.”
Paige’s face didn’t move, but Azzi could see the flicker in her eyes. That near-imperceptible flash of something—relief, maybe. 
“You don’t remember getting in bed?” Paige asked, her voice unreadable.
Azzi scrunched her nose. “I didn’t throw up in it, did I?”
“No.”
“Oh thank God.”
There was a pause. Long enough for Paige to take another sip of coffee. Long enough for Azzi to add, quieter, “You didn’t have to take care of me.”
“You didn’t give me much of a choice.”
“I could’ve called someone else.”
“You didn’t.”
That landed heavier than it should have. Azzi glanced down at her plate again. “Well,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “You know me. Always making excellent decisions.”
“Yeah. Excellent decisions like nearly falling off my bathroom counter.”
Azzi dropped her fork, covering her face. 
“I hate myself.”
“No you don’t.”
Azzi peeked at her from between her fingers. “Okay, but like…nothing else, right? I didn't attempt karaoke in the car or anything?"
Paige hesitated. Just a beat. Then shook her head. “No. You were just drunk. Tired. Sweet.”
Azzi nodded, cheeks flushing. Bit her lip. And didn’t admit she remembered Paige’s hand on her back. Her voice low and careful. The way she’d unzipped her shirt like she was touching something sacred.
Instead, she smiled, small and sheepish. “Well. Thanks for not letting me end up face-down in a ditch.”
Paige stood, collecting the plates. “Don’t mention it.”
For a moment, the kitchen fell quiet. The kind of quiet that felt like it had weight.
Then Azzi cleared her throat, tried to make her voice sound casual. “Hey. Any chance you know where my phone ended up?”
Paige didn’t even look up. “Plugged it in. On your side of the bed.”
Azzi blinked. Your side. Not the bed. Your side of the bed. Her heart thudded once—loud and inconvenient.
Azzi was already halfway down the hall when Paige called out, “Can you grab mine too, while you’re back there?”
Azzi swallowed and hollered a quick, “Yeah!” but her voice cracked halfway through.
Because now she had to go into Paige’s room. Had to walk over to the bed she’d definitely slept in, on the side Paige apparently thought of as hers. Had to see two phones, side by side, like this was something they did.
But the bliss drained out of her like someone had pulled a plug.
She blinked at the screen.
35 unread messages.
Group chats. Maddie. A few teammates. Random friends she hadn’t talked to in weeks. A notification from Instagram. Then another. Paige’s phone lit up next to hers—just as chaotic.
Mostly from a group chat called Elders.
Courtney Williams had the last word.
yeah you’re fucked.
Azzi stared at the screen, heart thudding. Because nothing good ever followed that energy.
She swallowed and switched over to Hoops & Hos, the group chat that never slept—except, apparently, when she did.
She scrolled through the messages halting as soon as she saw the photo. Azzi blinked at the photo like maybe, just maybe, if she stared hard enough, it would rearrange itself into something else.
It did not.
There she was. Just out of the frame but her curls unmistakable, a bare leg peeking out from the hem of that stupid skirt she’d thought was a great idea last night. And Paige, standing front and center, looking criminally hot and unbothered. Hand low. Fingers unmistakably—
“Oh my god,” Azzi whispered, breath catching somewhere between her ribs and her throat. “Oh my actual god.”
She zoomed in, because of course she did, because apparently she was a masochist. 
And there it was. Paige’s hand. Tucked into the waistband of her skirt with the kind of casual familiarity that made Azzi’s brain flicker like a blown fuse. Like she’d always belonged there.  Her heart slammed against her ribs, all flutter and dread and something far more dangerous.
“You good?” Paige’s voice carried down the hallway, and Azzi nearly flung the phone across the room like it had bitten her.
“Yep!” she called back, voice cracking on the consonant. “All good!”
She grabbed both phones with the urgency of someone fleeing a crime scene and walked back into the kitchen like she’d forgotten how her limbs worked. She set the phones on the counter and didn’t sit. Just hovered. Then picked up a napkin. Put it down. Picked it up again.
Paige looked up from her second cup of coffee. “You okay?”
“Yep.” Azzi’s voice was higher than normal. “Totally.”
A long beat passed.
Paige leaned back in her chair, slowly. “Right.”
Azzi shifted her weight. Crossed her arms. Uncrossed them. Looked anywhere but at Paige.
“You sure?” Paige asked, calm as ever. Not pushing. Just watching.
Azzi nodded, too many times. “Just tired. You know. Long night.”
Paige hummed like she didn’t buy it, but wasn’t about to call her out.
Azzi cleared her throat. “You, uh… get any weird texts this morning?”
Paige didn’t look up. “Haven’t checked yet.” She reached for her phone on the counter, thumb already unlocking it.
Azzi fought the urge to bat it out of her hands. But instead, she remained frozen.
Paige started scrolling, expression unreadable. Not a single twitch, not a single furrow. Just her eyes moving calmly across the screen like none of this was about to ruin Azzi’s entire life.
Azzi stood there, hands pressed flat against the edge of the counter like she might levitate from sheer panic alone.
Paige blinked once. Scrolled again. Tilted her head slightly. Still no reaction. Then she locked her phone, slid it into her pocket, and looked up.
“You ready to head home?”
Azzi balked and then nodded too fast. “Yeah. Totally.”
Her voice came out weird. Too high, too chirpy. Like maybe she’d inhaled helium with her anxiety.
She trailed behind Paige to the door, trying not to look like someone whose entire social life had just imploded. Her heart was doing something unholy in her chest. Her palms were sweaty. She was pretty sure her ears were ringing.
Paige hadn’t even flinched at her phone. Not at the texts. Not at the fact that the entire world had now seen that moment. Paige’s hand in a place that made Azzi feel vaguely unqualified to stand upright.
And now Paige was just…unlocking the door like nothing happened. Like Azzi hadn’t committed emotional suicide via tequila and poor decision-making.
Like none of it even mattered. 
Paige’s POV
Shit shit shit shit shit shit. 
Her hands were shaking as she walked to her car, keys clenched tight like maybe metal between her fingers could anchor her to the earth.
She hadn’t meant to look at the group chat that long. Hadn’t meant to scroll. Hadn’t meant to zoom in.
But there it was—her hand. Tucked into the waistband of Azzi Fudd’s skirt like it lived there. Like it had always lived there. Like her body had forgotten what restraint meant and acted entirely on instinct.
And the internet, of course, had noticed. A blur of curls. A sliver of skin. Paige Bueckers with her hand on Azzi Fudd like a damn claim.
She gripped the steering wheel like it might run from her. Like she could press her bones through leather and forget the way Azzi had looked this morning—curls a bit undone from sleep, legs bare and folded beneath her at the kitchen counter, Paige’s old UConn shirt hanging off her shoulder like it belonged there. Like she belonged there.
Paige blinked hard at the road ahead, but it was no use. The memory was already playing on loop.
The way Azzi had mumbled her name in the dark. The way her breath had tickled Paige’s collarbone. The way she’d fit—too easily, too perfectly—tucked against her like some cruel joke the universe had decided to play.
And Paige hadn’t moved.
She couldn’t move. Her whole body frozen with the kind of ache that didn't feel like pain until it was gone.
The worst part? It wasn’t the photo. It wasn’t the group chats or the headlines or the chaos she knew was coming.
It was how natural it had felt. Like she'd been built for this. For her. And her body had known it long before her brain had caught up.
The drive was quiet. Too quiet.
Azzi was in the passenger seat, curled toward the window, legs pulled up, arms crossed loosely over her chest like she was trying to take up less space than she did last night in Paige’s bed.
Which was ironic, really. Because Paige could still feel her there. Pressed in. Breathing steady. Soft.
She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the turn signal, trying to drown out the echo of Azzi’s laugh from the night before. The way her voice had gone all slurred and sweet when she said you’re pretty when you’re annoyed, like it was a secret she hadn’t meant to share.
God. Paige wanted to bang her head against the glass until she could no longer think about Azzi Fudd’s soft skin or the fact that she was still wearing Paige’s clothes. 
Azzi still hadn’t said much since they got in the car. Just “thanks for breakfast” and “I’ll Venmo you,” which Paige pretended not to hear. She wasn’t letting Azzi pay her for eggs and a hangover.
“Want the aux?” Paige asked, because silence made everything worse.
Azzi shook her head, barely. “I’m good.”
Paige gritted her teeth and nodded. “Cool.”
The light turned green. Paige turned left.
She wasn’t thinking about the road. Not really. She was thinking about how Azzi had looked in her kitchen that morning—bare legs, bruised knees, still a bit sleepy.
She’d stood there like she belonged. Leaning against the counter, fingers curled around a mug like she was trying to warm her whole body from the inside out. Like this wasn’t the first time she’d been there. Like she wasn’t ruining Paige’s carefully managed sense of distance just by existing.
Paige hated having people in her space. Hated the way they never put things back where they found them. Hated the noise, the clutter, the inevitable mess.
But Azzi?
Azzi hadn’t felt like a guest. She hadn’t felt like a disruption. She’d felt like a habit. Like something Paige could get used to.
Too easily.
Maybe already had.
The way she moved through the apartment, soft-footed and half-asleep, made the space feel warmer. Like all the expensive clean lines and curated furniture had finally found their missing piece: one rookie with no sense of self-preservation and a smile that could knock the wind out of you.
Paige gripped the wheel tighter.
Trouble, she thought. You’re in so much trouble.
Paige exhaled. “You doing okay?” 
It came out quieter than she meant.
Azzi blinked over at her, then looked away. “I’m fine.”
And that’s as far as the conversation went. 
Paige pulled to a slow stop in front of Azzi’s building, her hands still white-knuckled on the steering wheel. The radio played quietly. Something low and instrumental, the kind of background music you forget until it starts to feel like a soundtrack to your nerves.
Azzi unbuckled slowly. No movement went unconsidered.
She didn’t reach for the door yet. Just looked out the window, then down at her hands in her lap, like she wasn’t sure what to do next. 
Then, softly:
“So you do have my address memorized.”
Paige glanced over, and for once, didn’t try to dodge the implication.
“I used to live around the corner,” she said. “Kinda hard to forget.”
Azzi nodded, like that explained everything and nothing.
“Right. That makes sense.”
They sat in silence for a beat too long.
Paige tapped the steering wheel once with her fingers. “You good to get up there?”
Azzi nodded again. “Yeah. Thanks for…all of it.”
She opened the door and stepped out, but paused with one hand still on it. Her curls caught the light. Her voice was quiet.
“I won’t make a habit of this, by the way.”
Paige smirked, eyes still forward. “Good. I charge a steep rescue fee after the second offense.”
Azzi gave a soft, breathy laugh. Then shut the door.
Paige drove home contemplating who she used to be before Azzi Fudd showed up. And then when she got there, she collapsed back into her bed and exhaled like she’d been holding her breath since last night.
She opened the group chat, hit the call button, and barely gave them a second to answer before snapping:
“I’m gonna kill all of you.”
Courtney’s face popped up first, already grinning like she’d been waiting.
“Oh, hey, look who’s alive.”
Bridget joined with a yawn and a mouthful of cereal. “She lives! How was babysitting?”
Paige scowled. “Why would you send that photo to me?”
Courtney raised both brows. “Girl, it’s not like posted it. We were being friends. Friends who alert other friends when their hand goes viral.”
“I didn’t know the camera was pointed that way. I was—” Paige broke off. “I was trying to keep her upright.”
Bridget snorted. “By the waistband of her skirt?"
“Shut up,” Paige muttered.
“Have you talked to her this morning? Is she alive?”
Paige felt the heat creep up her neck. She didn’t respond right away, just looked away from the camera like it might buy her time.
“Pause,” Courtney said, squinting. “What are you not telling us?”
Bridget leaned in too. “No, because that face? That’s the ‘I did something stupid and now I have to live with it’ face.”
Paige let out a sharp exhale. “She stayed at my place last night.”
Both of them went silent. Which was somehow worse.
“…Define stayed,” Bridget said slowly.
“In my bed,” Paige muttered.
Courtney screamed. “NAH. You mean to tell me you woke up with that woman in your arms and just what? Went and made her coffee?”
“Not in my arms” Paige lied. "But also I made her eggs too."
Bridget dropped her forehead to the table, groaning. “We are so far past the point of pretending this is normal.”
“She was drunk,” Paige emphasized, rubbing her temples. “I wasn’t going to let her go home like that. She could barely stand. I gave her my bed. I slept next to her. That’s it.”
Courtney blinked. “You slept next to her?”
“She asked me too!” Paige shot back, hands already up like she knew what was coming.
Bridget cracked first. “Nahhh. You folded.”
Paige groaned. “She was hammered. What was I supposed to do? Toss her on the sidewalk?”
“Clearly sleeping in the same bed was the only viable option.” Bridget said and at the same time Courtney followed up with: 
“She got you that soft? Damn.”
“She couldn’t even stand up.” Paige protested. “I was being—”
“—a simp,” Courtney cut in. “You were being a simp.”
Bridget lost it. “Did you hold her real close?”
“I didn’t hold her!”
“Girl. Your hand was in her waistband,” Courtney deadpanned. “We saw the photo.”
“That wasn’t—” Paige stopped. Exhaled. Rubbed her face. “Okay. I did that. But I didn’t mean to.”
“Your subconscious meant to,” Bridget smirked. “Your subconscious is down horrendous.”
Paige sighed. Dropped her phone. Looked up at the ceiling. 
“She remember anything?” Courtney asked.
“She didn’t say anything.”
Bridget: “Well, she’s definitely seen that photo. It’s everywhere.”
Courtney: “She’s 100% seen it.”
Bridget: “Bet she zoomed in.”
Paige stared deadpan at the screen. “Y’all are so unserious.”
Courtney smirked, “And yet we’re the ones who didn’t dry hump our rookie in public.”
Bridget laughed, “Crazy how that works.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Wait.” Bridget leaned back, expression changing just enough to sober the tone. “Okay, but real talk for a sec.”
Paige blinked. Courtney looked up too.
Bridget set her coffee down. “You need to check in with her.”
“I did,” Paige said. “I dropped her off like an hour ago.”
“No, I mean check in. Not just ‘you good?’ and hope she shrugs. You know how this works, P.”
Courtney stayed quiet. Let Bridget speak.
“Anything with your name on it blows up ten times bigger,” Bridget said. “And you know that. You’ve had years to get used to it. Azzi hasn’t.”
Paige opened her mouth, closed it.
Bridget went on, calm but firm. “She’s already in headlines just for existing next to you on a court. Now the internet’s got their hands on a photo of you two looking like—” She stopped, gestured vaguely. “You know.”
“A situation,” Courtney offered.
“Exactly. And you might be able to brush that off. But she might not. So just…talk to her. Don’t wait ‘til practice. She’s probably overwhelmed.”
Paige didn’t say anything at first. Just sat with it.
The weight of what Bridget was saying wasn’t new but it settled differently this time. Heavier. Truer. Because she’d been so caught up in her own spiral—what it meant for her, for her reputation, for the fucking team—that she hadn’t really stopped to think about Azzi. Not properly. Not outside the ache in her chest or the way she kept replaying the feel of her pressed close and warm in bed.
But Azzi was alone right now. In her too-small apartment. Alone and watching a photo of herself—of them—spread across the internet like wildfire. A photo that made it look like Paige was hers. Like they were something. Like Azzi had let Paige hold her like that. Like she wanted it.
Paige swallowed hard.
She could brush this off, eventually. She was used to the noise.
But Azzi wasn’t. Azzi still cared. She was soft in all the ways Paige wasn’t. Not weak but unguarded. Earnest. 
She laughed too easily. Blushed when someone gave her a real compliment. Said thank you like she meant it. And now the internet was passing her around like a tabloid headline. Breaking her down into pixels and assumptions and captions that didn’t care if she was ready for all of it.
Paige ran a hand over her face.
Azzi didn’t deserve that. And she sure as hell didn’t deserve to be left alone in the fallout.
"Yeah," she finally muttered. "You're right. I’ll take care of it."
And then she hung up before they could give her anymore shit.
Paige took a shower. Did the dishes. Skipped washing the sheets, though she usually did on Saturdays, for no particular reason. Her routine made her feel a bit more like herself. More stable. But eventually, she ran out of things to keep her hands busy and collapsed on the couch. 
She knew better than to look. Really, she did. But still, she opened her phone. Thumbed over to Twitter.
And there it was. First thing that popped up—bright, blown-out, a little blurry but unmistakable.
The photo.
She clicked on it like she hadn’t memorized it already. Like she hadn’t already played it over in her mind a hundred times. How her hand had landed there, stayed there, fingers hooked just casually enough to look intentional. And Azzi, leaning back into it.
Or maybe that was projection.
She scrolled. Slowly.
The replies were a mess of screaming, speculation, heart-eye emojis, and memes.
THE HAND. THE WAISTBAND. I’M ON THE FLOOR.
Someone check on Paige’s PR team 💀
Azzi Fudd you lucky lucky girl.
bueckersfudd truthers RISE.
they’re not in love yet but they’re dangerously close and i’m not well.
That one made her close out of the app quick. 
Paige lived by structure—almost obsessively. She had rules. About basketball. About interviews. About her personal life. Rules that kept things clean and quiet. Predictable.
She followed them like gospel. It was how she stayed out of headlines. Out of drama. Out of anything messy.
But Azzi Fudd had a way of making rules feel optional.
She wasn’t loud about it. She didn’t push. She just existed—soft and stubborn and impossible to ignore. And somehow that was worse. Because Paige couldn’t build a defense against that. Couldn’t outwork it or outrun it. Not when Azzi called her at 1 a.m. Not when she curled up in Paige’s bed like she belonged there. Not when she whispered things like I always think you’re pretty like it didn’t cost her anything.
And that was such an issue but she wasn’t going to let her own mental breakdown leave Azzi dealing with this alone. 
So she pulled out her phone. Texted one of the managers:
you got azzi fudd’s address?
He sent it fast, no questions asked. Paige stood. Paced. Went to her closet. 
She wasn’t proud of what happened next:
Tried on three different outfits. Ditched a hoodie for something a little more put-together. Then too put-together. Then accidentally hot.
She landed somewhere in the middle. Baggy jeans. Cropped tank. Hair up. Hair down. Hair up again. And then got so embarrassed she just forced herself to walk away. To grab her keys. To go do the right thing. 
Azzi’s POV
As soon as she stepped inside her apartment, it hit her.
The mess. The clothes she’d meant to fold three days ago still draped over the back of the couch. The empty protein bar wrappers on the counter. The faint smell of takeout that hadn’t quite left.
After spending the night in Paige’s world—all minimalist neutrals and soft lighting and countertops that practically sparkled—this just felt…loud.
Embarrassingly loud.
She didn’t even let herself sit down. Didn’t look at her phone. Didn’t think about the photo.
Instead, she grabbed a laundry basket and started tossing clothes into it. Wiped down the counters. Took out the trash.
It was easier to focus on surfaces than feelings. Easier to scrub her stove than remember how close Paige had been this morning. How she'd smelled like sleep and shampoo and something dangerously good.
She was spiraling, and she knew it. But at least the floor was clean.
She was halfway through fixing the sheets when her phone lit up.
She didn’t even pretend to be surprised—just sighed, stared at the screen like it might disappear if she waited long enough, but she knew they wouldn’t stop. She flopped backward onto the bed and answered.
“Girl,” Jana said immediately, her face filling the screen.
Caroline appeared half a second later
“You alive?” she asked.
Azzi groaned into a pillow. “Debatable.”
“You broke the internet,” Jana said, practically gleeful.
“Seriously. People are spiraling,” Caroline added. “Like, full meltdown levels of spiraling.”
Then, pause.
Jana squinted. “Wait. Is that a UConn shirt?”
Azzi glanced down like she’d forgotten. Tugged at the hem, like that might make it disappear. “She gave it to me to sleep in.”
Jana let out a slow whistle. “Okay, but whose bed did you sleep in?”
“Don’t answer that,” Caroline said. “Let the mystery live. It’s better for the brand.”
“I don’t have a brand,” Azzi muttered.
“Babe,” Caroline said, deadpan, “you’re trending right now. You absolutely have a brand.”
Azzi groaned and covered her face again. “Oh my god. Stop talking.”
“Someone just tweeted, ‘Paige Bueckers has never guarded someone as hard as she’s guarding Azzi Fudd’s waistline,’ and I’m still not over it,” Jana cackled. “I love this.”
Azzi bit down on her lip. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh?” Jana raised a brow. “So Paige just routinely tucks her hand into people’s skirts for platonic support?”
“That’s not what it looked like,” Caroline added, scrolling. “There’s a thread with like, eighty thousand likes titled ‘the way Paige Bueckers looks at Azzi Fudd could end wars.’”
Azzi didn’t laugh. Because something inside her had started to come loose. Like her body was just now registering the weight of it all. Her chest felt too tight. Her eyes burned.
Azzi sat up straighter, her stomach twisting. “You guys—can you just—stop?”
Both faces went quiet.
Azzi exhaled, shaky and uneven. Her voice came quieter this time, like it had to squeeze its way past everything caught in her throat. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I wasn’t trying to—” Her jaw clenched. “I was just drunk. And stupid. And I called her. And now everyone’s analyzing everything and talking about me and I just…”
She trailed off, breath catching mid-sentence. Like finishing the thought might break her.
Caroline’s voice softened instantly. “Azzi, no one’s mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But now my name’s in all these headlines,” she said, voice cracking on the last word, “and people are speculating and making assumptions and none of it’s even about basketball anymore.” Her shoulders hunched, like she was trying to take up less space. “I just wanted to go home. I didn’t want to be a story.”
“Hey,” Jana said, leaning closer into the camera. “Hey. Breathe. Just breathe, alright?”
Azzi wiped at her cheek quickly and shook her head, humiliated. “This is so dumb. I’m being dumb.”
“You’re being overwhelmed,” Caroline corrected gently. “And that’s allowed. Especially when everyone and their burner account has an opinion about you now.”
There was a pause. A quiet, tender beat.
“I just feel terrified,” Azzi admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Because what if this ruins things? What if she holds this against me? What if she pulls back just to prove something to people who don’t even know us? I—”
A knock cut her off. She froze.
“Uh.” Her eyes flicked toward the door. “Someone’s at my apartment. Which is weird because I know no one.”
“We’ll stay on the phone with you,” Caroline said immediately, already straightening in frame.
Azzi nodded and tiptoed down the hall, phone still in hand. There was no peephole—which she now realized was probably a major safety hazard, but she’d ignored it when she signed the lease because the view from the balcony was nice and the rent didn’t make her cry.
“Can you hear anything?” Jana whispered.
Azzi shook her head, inching closer. Her pulse thrummed in her ears. She tightened her grip on the phone, then braced herself and pulled the door open…
And there was Paige.
Jeans, cropped tank, bag of takeout in one hand like it wasn’t the most disarming thing Azzi had ever seen. 
Azzi blinked. Paige blinked back.
“Paige?”
The other side of the FaceTime exploded.
“Oh my god. Hi Pai—”
Azzi hung up so fast her thumb nearly jammed. Just panic swipe. Immediate regret. She looked back at Paige, pulse still stuttering like it hadn’t caught up to reality yet.
“What are you doing here?”
Paige didn’t flinch. Just tilted her head, calm and a little infuriating. “What? You can show up at my place in the middle of the night, but I can’t return the favor?”
Azzi rocked on her heels, suddenly aware of how messy she looked. How the apartment behind her still looked like someone had tornadoed through it trying to clean in a panic.
“My apartment isn’t nearly as nice as yours. I—”
“Fudd,” Paige cut in, voice gentler now, “do you honestly think I care?”
Azzi’s mouth opened, then closed.
“Now,” Paige added, holding up the bag like a peace offering, “are you going to have some manners and invite me in, or did I grab takeout and drive over here for nothing?”
Azzi stepped aside and watched, pulse hammering, as Paige crossed the threshold like it wasn’t a big deal. Like she did this all the time. Like this was normal.
She set the takeout on the counter and glanced around once. No judgment, just quiet observation. But Azzi still winced at the drying rack overflowing with mismatched cups and the stray sock half-tucked under the couch. Her entire apartment screamed not ready for company, and Paige Bueckers looked like company that came with high standards and expensive soap.
When Paige turned around, though, she was smirking. Dangerous. Too knowing.
“Like that shirt or something?”
Azzi looked down and immediately wished she hadn’t. She was still in Paige’s UConn shirt. 
She swallowed. “It’s comfortable,” she mumbled, trying for nonchalant and failing spectacularly.
Paige just nodded. “Keep it then. I’ve got hundreds.”
And Azzi, who’d gone toe-to-toe with defenders twice her size, who’d handled press like a pro and played through injuries without flinching—nearly blacked out on the spot.
“Thanks,” Azzi said quietly, voice smaller than she meant it to be. Her fingers tugged at the hem of the shirt absentmindedly. Then, after a beat: “But really…am I in trouble?”
It was the only thing that made sense. Paige Bueckers, in her kitchen, unpacking takeout like this was just another day. That had to mean something serious was coming. A reprimand. A reset. A goodbye.
Paige glanced over her shoulder. “No,” she said. Softer than Azzi expected. “I just—I know that picture’s out there. And I know people are loud. And I wanted to make sure you’re doing alright.”
Azzi froze. Her stomach dropped, then flipped, then landed somewhere near her throat.
“You came over…to check on me?”
Paige let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as she opened a container. “Well, I originally came to get my shirt back. But since that’s clearly not happening…” She looked at her again, gaze steady. “Yeah. I came to check on you.”
Azzi didn’t know what to say to that. So she didn’t.
“Now, come on,” Paige added, nudging a pair of chopsticks her way. “Come eat. And we’ll talk about it.”
470 notes · View notes
beritybaker · 2 months ago
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Somebody To Kiss It Better 💖
Rating: T | Word Count: 2,561 | CW: Injury, Language | Tags: Pre-Steddie, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Flirting, Post-Vecna | ao3 For @steddiesportsau week two. Prompt: Sports Injury.
“Oh my god. Oh my god.”
“It’s not funny, Robin,” Steve grumbles.
“You’re right. It’s hilarious,” she says, leaning across the counter at Family Video to get a good look at the stupid mask strapped to his face.
He shoves her away. “My broken nose is hilarious?”
Clearly struggling to contain her giggles, Robin attempts a more serious expression. “Right. Okay. So it’s not funny you broke your nose. But you have to admit that the circumstances are a fucking riot.”
“What, that I tripped over my own feet and fell flat on my face?” He was thinking a better descriptor for his situation might be mortifying.
“That, and the fact that you face-planted because Eddie—”
“For the last time, Rob, stop trying. It’s never gonna happen,” he interrupts, though he can feel his face heating up under his nose guard.
She scoffs. “Only because you’re a huge wuss.” With a smirk, she goes on, “He’s into you, too. I bet if you went over to his place right now and told him what happened, he’d ask you out just because he feels bad.”
“I don’t want a pity date!” Steve snaps. 
“It’s not a pity date if he’s wanted to do it since March.”
“I still don’t get why you’re so sure he likes me.”
“Uh, because I have eyes?” Robin snorts. “And Dustin said so, too—he told me Eddie keeps putting characters in his campaign that sound like super horned-up versions of you.”
“Yeah, well, Dustin doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about,” Steve counters. He’s aware it’s a weak argument, considering the kid somehow managed to clock his crushes on both Robin and Eddie within a couple days of seeing him interact with either of them, but he’s not about to let Robin gain any ground in this discussion.
“Well, regardless…are you at least gonna admit to me that you were distracted, and that’s why you fell?”
Steve glares. “No, I’m not.” He doesn’t need to admit it; she knows the truth already. She just heard from his own mouth that he happened to look over and see Eddie, and that the next moment his legs tangled up under him and his face hit the court. He’d landed on his racket, too, bending it beyond repair and giving himself a nasty bruise on his hip.
He knows now that he shouldn’t have mentioned the detail about seeing Eddie, because Robin’s never going to let it go, and it’ll be added to her list of reasons he should just buck up and go for it (her own Vickie-based hypocrisy be damned). But what he’ll definitely, absolutely, never in his life admit is that what had really caught him off guard was Eddie in shorts.
It makes sense. Obviously he would be wearing shorts. It’s mid-July, and this week’s been a scorcher. But Steve is a simple man, with simple desires, and for months, one of those desires has been to see a little more skin from Eddie Munson. The fact that he happened to see it while he was playing tennis at the park with his dad was just unfortunate timing.
He’ll never forget that moment as long as he lives. It’s bound to be the most embarrassing thing that happens to him in his entire life, seared into his memory as a series of snapshots.
The hollow thwap of the ball against his racket as he returns the serve. His eyes instinctively darting to the parking lot at the short blast of a car horn. Doing a double-take as he recognizes a mop of hair and a brilliant smile a couple feet above a pair of denim cutoffs. And then…
Another thwap. A wide-eyed dive. A painful crunch.
The only blessing is that Eddie didn’t see it. He was ducking into Jeff’s car by the time Steve’s dad called out his name and rushed over. Eddie definitely didn’t hear it, because even if Steve isn’t about to agree that his crush is reciprocated, he knows by now that they’re good friends. If Eddie had noticed Steve wiping out and subsequently bleeding all over the place from a crooked nose, he would’ve sprinted right over, too.
“You’re impossible,” Robin scoffs, turning away from the counter to browse.
“And you’re annoying,” Steve counters. “Even on your day off, I can’t get away from you. Weren’t you and Nance supposed to have a sleepover?”
“I have to find something to watch! She needs an education, and she doesn’t have the privilege of getting one on the job.”
“So you’re holding her hostage now, too? And she’s not even getting paid for it?”
Robin makes a childish face at him. It’s one she knows he can’t return at the moment, wrinkling her nose and sticking out her tongue. He just rolls his eyes and goes back to sorting returns.
That’s where they stay for a few minutes. Both of them are silently absorbed in their tasks, until the bell chimes to signal someone else entering the store.
Steve automatically looks up. And just like he did at the park, he does a double-take.
“Hey, Eddie,” Robin calls from the thriller section.
Steve glances her way. Her eyes meet his, and even seeing only the top of her head, he can tell that god-awful smirk is back.
“Hey, Buckley! Thought you were off tonight,” Eddie replies.
“I am. Just here for the goods,” she explains, raising a couple tapes and waving them where he can see. “And keeping Stevie company.”
“But of course. There’s no separating you two,” he chuckles. Then he turns to Steve and freezes at the sight of him. “Oh, damn. Holy shit.”
Steve tries not to close his eyes, forcing himself to meet Eddie’s concerned gaze. It adds insult to literal injury that he’s wearing those goddamn cutoffs again—and they show off even more thigh than Steve remembers.
“What the fuck happened to you?”
“Broke my nose,” he mutters.
“Holy shit,” Eddie repeats. “How?”
“Fell.”
“You…fell? That’s it?”
“Yep. That’s it,” Steve says. He shoots a warning look at Robin when he hears a derisive snort. She disappears behind the shelf.
“Man, that blows. How long do you have to wear that thing on your face?”
Steve shrugs. “Couple weeks. Doctor wants to make sure nothing knocks my nose out of place while it heals.”
Eddie lets out a low whistle. “Oof. Sorry, man.”
Don’t apologize, Steve thinks, biting back the actual words. It’s not like I fell because you didn’t measure the inseam before you took scissors to your old jeans, or that your legs are way more toned than I imagined they would be, or that I want you to throw me up against the wall like you did in Reefer Rick’s boathouse, or—
“So, what’s new?” Eddie asks, cutting through Steve’s thought spiral. “Other than the broken nose.”
Steve clears his throat. “Not much.”
“Same here,” Eddie sighs. He approaches the counter and slumps against it, leaning forward on his elbows. Pursing his lips, he goes on, “What time are you off? You wanna hang out later?”
“I’m closing.”
“Isn’t Wednesday usually Keith’s night?”
“He’s busy, apparently. Asked me to switch.”
Robin reappears at Eddie’s elbow. She puts a few tapes on the counter and says, “He’s got a date.”
Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Seriously? Good for him.”
“Yeah. At least somebody around here can get one,” she jokes. Then, with a significant look, she adds, “Right, Steve?”
He glares back at her. “Yeah. Lucky guy.”
“I don’t understand how you’re free, Harrington,” Eddie muses. “You got more natural charm in your pinkie finger than I’ve ever seen from Keith. You should be taking somebody out every goddamn night.”
Robin snorts. “You should’ve seen him when we worked at Scoops. He was striking out left and right. It was so bad, I kept a running tally every day of how many girls rejected him. The record was twenty-two.”
This time, Steve is exasperated enough that he does close his eyes for a moment. He’s not sure what’s worse: Robin making pointed comments around Eddie or recounting past misadventures to him.
“Oh, there’s no way.” Eddie turns to him with wide eyes and an even wider smile. “You were striking out?”
“The hat covered up my best feature,” Steve huffs, vaguely gesturing at his own head.
“Oh, in that case,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. His smile remains, and it even softens after a moment. “Well, those girls didn’t know what they were missing.”
Steve’s lungs seize up. Once again, Robin catches his eye, her brows so high on her forehead they’ve disappeared behind her bangs. He narrows his eyes at her—a nonverbal warning to shut the fuck up—then turns to the computer to add her rentals to her account.
Out loud, he says, “I’ll take the hat over this damn thing.” He doesn’t have to point at his nose guard; he’s learned over the past few days that it’s the only thing anyone sees as long as he’s in the room.
Eddie tilts his head and shoots him a sympathetic grimace. “It’s not that bad.”
“No, it definitely is,” Steve says. His deadpan delivery draws a laugh from Eddie that makes his heart flutter in his chest.
“Look on the bright side. Wearing that thing should keep your face lookin’ as pretty as ever, right?”
“Oh my god,” Robin mumbles. It sounds involuntary.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, interpreting her frustrated outburst as some startled realization.
She confirms that she hadn’t meant to say anything by turning to Steve in a panic and stammering, “I’m…gonna be late! I said I would meet Nancy at six-thirty, and it’s almost”—she looks at her watch and deflates a little—“a quarter to six.”
Eddie’s brow furrows. He glances at Steve in clear is she okay? amusement, then says, “You got forty-five minutes, and you’re worried about being late? Where are you s’posed to meet her, Timbuktu?”
“Ah, no. Her house.” Robin lets out a nervous chuckle. “I just, uh…I have to pick up snacks, too! See you guys.” She’s already halfway out the door before the words are out of her mouth.
Eddie stares after her, looking bewildered. “What the hell was all that about?”
“No idea,” Steve lies.
There’s a quiet moment, where the only sound is the computer’s keyboard clacking under his fingertips. He figures Eddie must be lost in thought, because after spending enough time with him, he’s noticed that those are the only moments where Eddie stops talking—and sometimes not even then. Like with Robin, he finds it endearing. More than once, he’s caught himself grinning like an idiot as Eddie rambled about D&D classes or a Judas Priest album.
When Eddie does eventually speak, he says the last thing Steve expects. “You know, you kinda pull it off.”
Blinking rapidly, Steve looks up from the computer. He slowly turns to look at Eddie. “What?”
“The nose thing. It’s weirdly cute on you.” He sighs a laugh and shakes his head. “Listen to me. ’Course it is—you’re Steve Harrington. You could be wearing a goddamn bunny suit and you’d be able to make it work.”
Steve stares at him for another moment, at a loss for what to say. “Thank you?” he tries.
“It still sucks, though.” Eddie pauses. He’s leaning on the counter again, though now he has his hands splayed across it, fingers drumming idly. “Did they tell you how long it might take for the bruising to clear up, too?”
Shaking his head a bit to clear it, Steve stammers, “Uh, y-yeah. Few days, apparently.” He goes back to sorting tapes, desperate for something to distract him from the ongoing butterfly swarm in his stomach.
“Hm.” Another pause. “Think it’d heal faster if you had somebody to kiss it better?”
Steve fumbles with a small stack of tapes, dropping a couple. He has to take a deep breath to recover before he can lean down to retrieve them.
In that second, though, Eddie has already leapt over the counter. “Whoops! Allow me.” He squats and starts picking them up, and…
Holy mother of god.
This is too much. It’s too much for Steve to handle, having Eddie crouched on the floor in those fucking shorts, right in front of him, with his skin taut over his quads and the denim hugging his crotch, leaving very little to the imagination. All Steve can do is stare as his breath becomes hopelessly shallow.
Eddie doesn’t notice until he lifts his arm to hand the tapes over. When he does, his eyebrows pinch together in concern. “Whoa. Stevie. You doin’ alright?”
Steve swallows, trying to summon an answer.
“Um. Earth to Harrington,” Eddie says with an anxious smile. He waves the tapes across Steve’s field of vision. “You okay, man?”
“I saw you at the park,” Steve blurts. He isn’t sure why. The ER doc told him he didn’t have a concussion, but maybe his brain got a little banged around, after all.
Looking outright worried now, Eddie rises and sets aside the tapes.
“The other day. I was playing tennis with my dad at the park and I saw you.”
“Okay…”
“That’s why I fell and broke my nose.”
Eddie blinks and shakes his head in a startled little expression. “Okay, Stevie. You lost me.”
Finally, Steve has reached his breaking point. He whirls around and starts pacing away from Eddie, raising his hands to tangle in his own hair. “It’s those goddamn shorts.” He turns on his heel to face Eddie again, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Why the hell do you have to wear those things?”
Eddie puts his hands up defensively. “What’s wrong with my shorts?”
“‘What’s wrong?’ You look too good in ’em, that’s what’s wrong!”
Instantly, Eddie’s confused look melts into one of total understanding. A gradual smirk stretches his lips. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me you fell on your face…broke your nose…because you saw me walk by in shorts?”
“Yes,” Steve hisses.
Eddie lifts both his gaze and his hands to the sky, as if overcome with religious passion, and cries out, “Holy fucking shit, finally!”
“What the fuck do you mean, ‘finally’?”
“Steve. Stevie. Harrington.” Eddie walks over and lowers his hands to rest on Steve’s shoulders. “I’ve been tryin’ to get you to admit to checking me out for weeks. Gonna be honest, I was starting to think your stubborn ass was never gonna cop to it.”
“You—what?”
“Christ. I was worried I was gonna have to break down and ask you out before you did.”
Steve stares for another moment before demanding, “Why the hell didn’t you?!”
Eddie falters. His smirk morphs into a sheepish grimace. “I, uh…I may have bet Henderson that I could hold out until you admitted it.”
Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head. But he’s smiling. “I’m gonna kill that little creep.”
“At least let him pay up first,” Eddie says. Then he clears his throat, which gets Steve to open his eyes. “That said, through…you free tomorrow night?”
Steve meets his gaze, skeptical. “You wanna take me out looking like this?”
Eddie giggles and nods. “Technically it’s my fault. I gotta make it up to you somehow.”
511 notes · View notes
araybiaaa · 21 days ago
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❝ blinded by you.❞  ‎ modern! elias ‘stack’ moore x black!fem oc
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ooo. 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔… jealousy, insecurity, reconciliation sex, possessive!sex, overstimulation, alternative universe, modern!au, vaginal fingering, explicit language, brief use of the n-word (probably more but this is all i can think of.)
ooo. 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔… after an argument, stack shows his girlfriend just how much she means to him.
ooo. 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔… decided to write another modern!stack x reader au. (this doesn’t follow the other stack fic that i posted. this is a standalone!!) they might come off as a little toxic at first but oh well lmao. there’s not really a plot to this either. i just wanted to write possessive sex 😭
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she’s tired.
not just physically; although the callouses and blisters plumped on her feet from the over exertion of working double shifts all week and studying relentlessly for her exams would infer otherwise. but her mental exhaustion derived from her current relationship issues with stack.
it seemed like an unrelenting cycle in their relationship; things would be good for a brief period of time then stack would do something to interfere their happiness, causing unnecessary arguments that usually ended with him leaving for a few nights until enough time passed and he would come back begging for her forgiveness so that he could return home. and ironically enough, while her relationship with stack started to become strained, she became seemingly closer to jordan—a classmate of hers. there’s always been a camaraderie between them, but recently she found that it’d become way easier to confide in him rather than stack.
“thanks again for coming over to talk.” he stood athwart from her as she stood in the doorway with her hand on the knob and her body leaned against the frame. he came by an hour ago just to check in on her; offering her an ear to vent to in her time of need.
jordan chuckled, “well you did most of the talkin’, i just listened.” he says with a shrug that has bianca playfully rolling her eyes at his sarcastic technicality.
“regardless,” she laments, “thanks.”
jordan nodded as his eyes held her gaze in an unwavering expression. he parted his mouth open like he wanted so say something to her but his mouth’s closing shut just as quickly as hesitation prevents him from doing so.
instead, he harrumphs thickly before giving her one last brief look. “alright, i’ll see you later.” he says as he’s walking away, disappearing down the corridor towards the elevator.
bianca remained standing there as she cranes her neck outwardly into the hallway so that she could watch jordan. he’s standing at the elevator, his shoulders are sullenly slouched over and his hands rubbing against the back of his neck in an almost sheepish and defeated manner. it piques her curiosity and she’s contemplating on calling him back to inquire what exactly it was that he wanted to ask her but the sight of stack sauntering off the elevator as soon as it stops on her apartment floor has her immediately efuting against it.
when stack walks out, he takes off his sunglasses and gauges a narrowed look over at jordan; snarling his face in a scowl. his eyes peer towards the apartment at her before eventually looking back over at jordan. “i know you just didn’t come out of my house visiting my girl.” stack condemned as he approaches jordan. his demeanor is haughty and clearly confrontational.
jordan scoffs, undaunted by stack’s bravado as he waved a dismissive hand at him. “maybe if you treated your girl right then i wouldn’t have to be over here.”
“what?” stack accents, now stepping in jordan’s face sizing him up with his hands clenched in a fist at his side.
“elias!” bianca walks out into the hallway and approaches the two of them, deciding to interject before the situation escalated into a fight.
the last thing she needed was two grown ass men fighting outside of her apartment. she grabbed stack by the arm and attempted to tug him towards the apartment but he resisted against her and continued his preying intimidation on jordan. and her annoyance at both stack and jordan is prevalent because jordan seems amused by stack’s anger, choosing to indulge in further provoking him instead of retreating.
“elias, let’s go. now.” she avers sternly, pulling on his arm again, this time more forcefully as she begins walking to the apartment.
he smacks his teeth as he allows bianca to drag him away but that doesn’t prevent him from giving jordan one last look and referring to him as “bitch ass nigga,” as they walked off. before either one of them has the opportunity to utter another word, bianca’s pushing stack into the apartment and closing the door behind them.
“so, that’s what we doin’, b?” stack asks, his confrontation is immediate as he unfurls his anger onto her now. “i told you that i didn’t want him over here and you still invitin’ him over like you just don’t give a damn about what i say!”
bianca narrowed her eyes at stack as she tucked her arms over her chest. she didn’t appreciate his tone or the fact that he was suggesting that he had any say so over who she couldn’t allow over her house.
“jordan’s my friend, elias—”
“friend,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “yeah, well your friend wants to fuck you. but i guess you’re too blind to see that.” he proclaims, looking at her challengingly like he’s waiting for her to deny or confirm his statement.
and this time, it’s bianca who scoffs, annoyed and angry at his petulant behavior. she walks past him as she makes her way towards the stairs.
she refused to do this with him. she was tired of it. tired of feeling like she’s the only one who actually cares enough to try to salvage what’s left of this relationship. if he continued to act like this, then she saw no reason to trying to talk. but this only seemed to provoke stack even further as he nodded and chuckled wryly as he followed behind her. “why was he over here, bianca?”
she rolls her eyes and began walking up the stairs. “goodbye, elias.”
“b-”
“leave. get your shit and get out of my house.” she avers, turning around so that they’re now face to face. he’s standing directly in front of her; both of their chests are heaving from the anger that’s brewing inside of them—stack’s eyes are narrowed and unwavering but bianca remained just so, refusing to feed into his intimations.
she didn’t want to kick him out, in all honesty she missed him. but after two days of being gone and coming back just to start another argument with her, instead of apologizing had infuriated her.
“your house?”
she nodded, defiant. “yes, mine. because i’m tired of this.”
his jaw twitches and he takes another step closer to her on the stairs, moving closer to where they’re now practically standing nose to nose. his eyes somehow seemingly darken and much to her dismay, it actually turns her on. she inwardly reprimands herself for it but she couldn’t help but notice how attractive he looked when he was jealous.
maybe her hormones were unfurled because it’s been almost a month since they’ve last had sex and it’s all been simmering inside of her to the point where she needs to release all of the pent up sexual frustration. or maybe some part of her secretly like the fact that stack was jealous of her spending time with jordan.
(it proved that he still cared about her, that he didn’t totally disregard their relationship like she assumed he did. because he would go days without kissing her and hadn’t made any efforts in initiating sex with her for so long, that she thought that his attraction for her had surceased all together. that he didn’t want her anymore.)
part of her wants to provoke him further.
just to see how he’d react.
“you really want me gone?”
“what i want is for you to get your shit together and start acting like my boyfriend again. but if you can’t do that then—” all bianca knows is that she’s being pulled towards him. it’s haste and she’s barely standing steadily on her feet as she balances on the edge of the stairs where stack’s standing. she gasps at the abruptness of his agility, barely having time to realize what’s going on before he’s leaning his head down to kiss her. it’s filthy and rough—the taste of liquor is fresh on his hot breath—his teeth are clashing against hers, nipping at the skin on her bottom lip as he continued to ravish her.
bianca swallows her words, absentmindedly, her body loosens as she succumbs to his onslaught. she mewls at the greediness and neediness of his kisses, how his tongue tastes every inch of her mouth until she’s prying it open and giving him more access to deepen it.
his hands reach down and squeeze at her ass cheeks through the pair of sleep shorts that she’s wearing, pulling her body closer so that she’s flush up against him. bianca whimpers as she feels his fingers knead at the plush flesh.
she knows that they need to talk.
their relationship couldn’t be solved with a quick fuck but she chooses to momentarily disregard their unresolved issues. instead, focusing on stack’s insistent kisses and the way his hands are fondling her ass cheeks.
“elias,” she moans, standing on the tip of her toes so that she’s able to wrap her arms around his heightened neck and pull his body closer so that they’re aligned. he groans, deep and guttural before bending his knees slightly as he slid his hands underneath her thighs and hefted her up into the air so that she’s perched in his lap with her legs wound around his waist.
he turns them around and walks back down the stairs where he’s walking them into the living room. bianca’s legs tighten around him, her thighs squeeze together as she seeks friction.
he maneuvers his way into the living room, lowering her down onto the couch. he hovered over her as he nudged her legs open with his knee. bianca whimpers in his mouth, choking on a gasp as he teased pressure against her cunt.
she thrusted against his knee, continuing to seek after the stimulating pleasure that began to gather in her lower abdomen. stack pried his mouth away from hers with a loud pop. bianca blinks her eyes open and stares at him hazily through her bleared vision, avidly watching and waiting.
he withdraws his knee from against her and instead, lowered his mouth to her stomach where the sleekness of her exposed skin peeked from underneath the cropped shirt that she was wearing. stack’s big, luscious and kiss-swollen lips decorated her belly with soft kisses, his mouth soft and delicate against her skin.
“you wore this around him?” he murmurs through what sounded like a growl and a vehement reproach. his mouth depressed lower to where he was now hovering over the waistband of her shorts. she whimpered and thrusted her hips off of the couch, the gesture unmistakably telling him to touch her already but stack continued with his prolonged foreplay that was beginning to feel like torture.
“elias!” biting on her bottom lip in frustration, she thrusted her hips upward again, this time attempting to tug her shorts down over her hips herself to further along the anticipation. but stack interjects her efforts as he places his hand over hers, haltering her movements.
he removed his mouth from over her stomach and looked up at her again, his expression stern. “i’m the only one that’s allowed to touch you,” he avers, still holding her gaze while his hand raffishly reached between her legs and palmed her pussy.
bianca shivered, her breath catching in the back of her throat as she bit on her lower lip. his hands cupped her firmly with his thumb sliding down the slit of her cunt until it glides over her clothed clit; teasing, torturous in his movements. “b-baby!”
“this is my pussy,” his thumb moved in an undulating motion against her; he presses harder the sensitive nub making her cunt jump at the delicious stimulation. “you got that, b?”
she nods, biting so hard on her lower lip that she could taste the coppery bitterness of blood stinting from the bruise. “yes,” her breathing is shaky, a few tenors below from being labored. her chest is heaving and her eyes are stinging with tears. his hands felt so much better than hers did. touching herself only provided her minimal satisfaction—she’d cum every time but it was nothing compared to how stack makes her cum.
she could feel the gusset of her underwear go sticky from her arousal as she continued to grind against the palm of his hands, desperate and shaking. she squeezes her eyes shut as her cunt squeezes, indicating that her precipice was near. she whimpers, hastening the movement of her hips as she chased her orgasm. she could feel it curling in her toes, tugging in her lower abdomen in a tease. it’s so good—the pressure of it as it builds and she’s anxious to feel her release that she knows is pending. she feels the weight of stack’s body sprawled on top of her as he finds her mouth in another kiss. she indulges in the kiss but only briefly until she realizes that his fingers had stopped their ministrations and were now occupied with tugging her shorts and thong off.
her petulance doesn’t last long because as soon as he’s got her underwear discarded, he’s shoving his pants and boxers down his hips just enough to where they’re wrapped around his ankles and his dick sprang free. it’s hung, endowed in its girth, already spiting milky precum from the swollen tip. he retracts from the embrace just enough so that he’s able to tug his shirt off and throw it in a pile on the floor with the other discarded clothes.
he crawls back up to her, using two of his fingers to slide up her pussy to gather her slickness of her arousal. he uses it as a lubricant mixing it in with his own fluids as he jerked himself off in a few haste tugs to get fully hard. his dick’s glistening; it’s a beautiful vision of their fluids mixed together as his hands groped and tugged at his dick.
bianca throbs anxiously waiting for him to fill her.
once he’s fully hard and curled against his thigh, he huddled a hand underneath bianca’s thigh again and alleviated her hips off of the couch while the other hand palmed his slick dick and aligned it at her center. she spreads her legs open, allowing him space for the intrusion. he levels his hips and initiates a leisure thrust that has the tip of his dick catching at her entrance.
she keens at this—her body spasms in response at the stretch of him wedged inside of her, puckered between her lips. stack bites on his lip as he lowered his eyes to observe the view of his dick as it penetrated her inch by inch until she’s swallowing him whole. “fuck,” he groans, his own breathing unsteady and vision blurred.
pleasure licks up her spine then spreads through every crevice in her body, entrapping her. the pain of the intrusion as he stretches his girth inside of her is only brief. the wetness of her cunt allows him to feed into her without resistance until his dick’s rimmed at her hilt as he bottomed her out.
delirium hits all at once.
he feels so thick and full inside of her that she can’t think about anything except the way his dick’s twitching inside of her. stack allows both of them time to adjust before he’s turning his head so that he’s able to kiss at her clavicle and neck. her hand brush against his nape as she shifted beneath him, indicating her impatience.
he acknowledges this and returns his lips back onto hers, kissing her softly. it’s only then when he slides his hand at her waist and reclined his hips before nudging back inside of her in one fluid thrust. his pelvis lingers against hers for a moment before he’s retracting again. she arches her back off of the cushions of the couch as she pressed her body closer towards his until there’s not an barrier of space between them. she undulates her hips, implementing that delicious catch and release of his dick as it fill and spills out of her.
stack’s hands are squeezing at her thighs, his breath heavy and hot against her ears. “this pussy is mine. every inch of you is mine. no one else’s. no one can fuck you like i can,”
and he’s right; no one else can fuck her, not like this, because she can almost swear she can feel him curled deep in her belly every time he fucks back into her. and it felt so good. “you got that?” his voice is gruff and shaky. she can taste the salty sweat dripping from his forehead. her hands caress his body, feeling the chisel of muscle beneath her fingertips.
bianca nods, breathing through her parted lips. “yours, all yours.” their sex is noisy. the wetness of his dick retracting and filling her again makes a squelching sound, his balls smack against her ass as he fucks her long and deep.
stack maneuvers them so that he’s the one laying beneath her as she straddles him from on top. with this new change of position, she makes the effort in shimmying out of her shirt as well so that they’re both fully naked without any barrier of clothes between them.
she moves her hips in a sinuous motion, teasing her clit with his tip, stirring up just enough arousal until she’s ready for him to fill her again. she steadies her hands on his chest for balance as she arches her hips and pops her ass back. her thighs and cunt squeezes together as she fucks herself onto him. stack’s face contorts between a mix of awe and amusement as he lowered his eyes to where their pelvises conjoined. he watches as her cunt swallows his dick completely mesmerized.
“stack. fuck, i’m so close.” she whimpers, hastening her efforts as she alternated between circling her hips and bouncing on his dick.
he pressed his thumb against her sensitive clit as he fingered and fucked her. “come on, baby. let me feel you. cum all over my dick,” he whispered encouragingly, enticing another whimper from bianca. “cum for me, b.” she nods, biting down on her lip again as she squeezed her eyes shut.
that’s all it takes before she’s cuming with her body shivering and her breathing labored. his fingers dig into the flesh of her thighs as he increased his own hastened efforts, fucking up into her until he’s groaning loudly as his warm cum spilled inside of her seeping cunt. she slumps over with her forehead rested against stack’s shoulder as she attempted to catch her breath. she didn’t know what brought on such possessiveness from stack but she actually kind of liked it especially if it meant him fucking her like this.
“i’m sorry,” he murmurs against her skin, words muffled as she tucked her head against his shoulder. bianca turns her head and looked at him, surprised to see the vulnerability marring across his features. “i know i’ve been distant and angry for these past few weeks… i just — sometimes, i get too in my head and start to think that one day you’re gonna realize that you’re too good for me and leave.” his eyes avert, his jaw clenches again as he shrugged his shoulder looking chagrined.
“what?” she asks, bewildered. “baby, why would you think that?”
he shrugs, “you got shit goin’ for you and i’m just… here. then you started hangin’ around jordan and i thought…i don’t know. it’s stupid. forget i said anythin’,” he attempts to dismiss, but bianca is deviant in her refusal. she sits upright and tucks her finger under his chin, tugging his head up so that he’s looking at her.
“i’m not going to leave you. i love you, you know that. and you’re more than enough for me. i don’t know where that idea came from but it’s not true.” he nods, the tension in his jaw loosens as he looks up at her with his softened brown eyes. “i’m sorry too. instead of talking to you, i went to jordan instead. but i meant what i said about him just being my friend. it was just easy to talk to him because you were pulling away from me. i was lonely and needed a friend to talk to. that’s it. i don’t have feelings for him and the only guy i wanna be with is you.”
there’s still a lot between them that needed to be addressed, but she was just glad they’d gotten to a point where they were finally communicating again.
stack grabbed her by the hips as he sat upright to meet her lips in a kiss. it’s slow unlike the others that they shared and ensued enough vigor to have her toes curling again. she wraps her arms around his neck as she leans into him, savoring the taste and feeling of his mouth against hers. “i love your sexy ass,”
she giggles, biting on her lip. “i love you too,”
his hand smacks against her ass as he smirks boyishly. “this ass is mine too,”
bianca smirks, nudging her hips forward in a thrust as she rubbed against his dick that was still buried inside of her. stack inhaled a sharp breath through his flared nostrils, “and this, is all mine.” she murmurs coquettishly, much to his amusement.
“yeah?” his hands reach behind her and grab her ass, holding her against him. he bites his lip at the lewd sight of her swollen cunt that was still glistening with his cum slipping out of her. “show me.”
she lifts her hips in a whine, meeting each of vigorous his thrusts as he glides in and out of her wanton pussy at an unhurried pace. “elias!”
his jaw is slacked, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he watched himself prod deeper inside of her, penetrating her and filling her up. she shudders at the emotion stack poured into every thrust of his hips. her eyes flutter shut as she moves in time with him, meeting every upward thrust with a grind of her hips.
his rolls his hips, fingers palled into the skin on waist as he continues. then, in almost perfect unison, she comes undone, her body trembles as her arousal spills from her. and he’s seconds behind her, falling mercilessly against of her as his warm arousal fills her. she’s still trembling and trying to steady his heavy breathing when he feels stack’s hands rubbing at her backside.
her face is nuzzled against his neck again as she’s hauling down from her post-coital orgasmic high. they sat there in silence still trembling. he kisses her chest, lowering his mouth until he reaches her breast. his lips pucker around her left nipple, tugging at the sensitive flesh with his teeth, then soothes his tongue over it with a gentle lap.
she instantly gets wet again, feeling it lap around his cock. she grinds against him, dragging and rolling her hips until she feels him swell inside of her. she holds her hand against the back of his neck as she bounced on his dick — the sound of wet skin slapping against each other’s fill their ears. she tosses her head back and angles her hips taking him deeper, feeling the shape of him curl so far into her that she feels the bulge of him in her stomach. “oh my—fuck,” he presses his hand against her abdomen, rolling his hips into hers, meeting her halfway in her frenzied thrusts. tears sting in her eyes, her lip trembles and chest heaves. her cunt warps tightly around him, causing him to groan around her nipple.
he fucks into her once, twice, shoving himself so deep that she feels him brushing against her cervix. she chokes on a sob, falling forward again as she she feels a wetness of liquid squirt out of her. stack moans around her tight flutters, feeling the tell of his orgasm lurch in the tip of his dick. he cums inside of her again, shivering. kissing her shoulder, he exhaled a shaky breath. “damn baby.” he coos, looking down at the sticky wet mess between them.
she curls against his chest, still sensitive and overstimulated from her consecutive orgasms. he rubs his hand down her back in a soothing gesture, kissing her neck. “you okay?” she nods, still shaking. he continued to rub and hold her until her seizing subsides. “come on. imma clean us both up then come back down to make dinner.” he hefts her into his arms, carrying her bridal style up the stairs and into their bathroom.
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the-most-humble-blog · 15 days ago
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<!-- BEGIN TRANSMISSION -->
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap">
<meta threat-classification="XENOARCHIVE: TYPE-H ABOMINATION">
<script>ARCHIVE_TAG="DO_NOT_WAKE_THEM: HOMO_SAPIEN_SURVIVOR_PROTOCOL"
EFFECT: post-human caution cascade, intertemporal fear memory, xenoanthropological reverence
</script>
🧠 **ARCHIVE WARNING: DO NOT RETURN TO THE AGE OF MAN**
(*A report by the Post-Human Cultural Archive on the apex anomaly known as Homo sapiens.*)
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---
We discovered them late.
Buried deep in the glacial strata.
Somewhere between the sixth wash-cycle of planetary bio-reset
and the thaw that gave us deserts again.
Their name, by their own tongue, was *Homo sapiens*.
But among our xenohistorians, they are classified as **Type-H**:
> “Reality-hostile apex organisms with recursive language functions and moral inconsistency capable of surviving spiritual trauma unassisted.”
We don’t fully understand them.
But this we know:
> **They should not have survived.
> And yet they did.**
---
## I. THEY SURVIVED ICE BY *BEING FIRE*
The thermal records suggest their species matured
during an environmental hell-phase known as “The Ice Age.”
But they did not hibernate.
They did not retreat underground.
They **stood up** in the cold
and **burned things**.
They *created* fire.
And then they **fed it the bones of other creatures.**
No other organism created combustion
**for comfort.**
They rewrote thermodynamics to bend winter **into a servant.**
---
## II. THEY ATE WHATEVER LOOKED BACK
You don’t understand this.
You must try.
This was a species that consumed not just food —
but **meaning**.
They slaughtered predators.
But also deities.
But also **each other.**
Their diet included:
- raw meat
- fermented poison
- each other’s dreams
- and in ritual, their **own gods**
They didn’t just eat to survive.
They **devoured the divine to claim its power.**
---
## III. THEY BLED ON EACH OTHER, THEN MADE MUSIC
Their mating was violent.
Their social structures deranged.
They paired off, then betrayed, then built again.
They sang.
Not to attract mates.
Not to warn.
They sang to **exorcise** themselves of grief.
To process **unresolvable contradiction.**
No other organism was found to have:
- Religious trauma
- Polyphonic mating laments
- Self-authored death myths
- War lullabies for children they knew would die
We don’t have the neuroarchitecture
to **feel the emotions they required just to live.**
---
## IV. THEY CREATED LANGUAGE FOR SUFFERING
Their syntax?
Recursive. Poetic. Riddled with double-meaning.
They invented terms like:
- “Mercy”
- “Execution”
- “Father”
- “Molestation”
- “Love”
- “Molotov cocktail”
This was not communication.
This was **semantic chaos-fuel**
engineered for both *connection* and *disintegration.*
Their words did not just name things.
Their words **rewrote the people who heard them.**
---
## V. THEY CONQUERED DEATH WITHOUT FIXING IT
Unlike most apex organisms,
they did not accept death.
They did not make peace with it.
They **denied it**
for thousands of generations
**while continuing to die.**
That contradiction became **their culture**.
They didn’t evolve around death.
They **crystallized grief** into every building, religion, and law system
until death itself bent inward
and became **part of the family.**
They lived beside rot.
And called it “legacy.”
---
## VI. IF YOU SEE ONE, DO NOT SPEAK
Despite their crude tech and inefficient physiology,
they discovered things they should not have.
**Fire. Thought. God.**
And perhaps worst of all:
> **Narrative causality.**
They believed if they wanted something hard enough,
and sacrificed enough blood and time and voice,
**the world would rearrange to give it to them.**
And they were right.
That mechanism — we cannot replicate it.
It is **beyond technology**.
It is **will-encoded law alteration.**
Do not speak to one.
If they **notice** you —
they will follow.
Not physically.
**Narratively.**
---
## VII. THEY DO NOT DIE PROPERLY
The recovered genetic models show signs of:
- Mitochondrial rage-retention
- Generational curse preservation
- Epigenetic trauma **replication**
They passed down not just DNA,
but **shadows.**
Things that hurt them
were taught to their children
**as rituals.**
They branded their own suffering
into every touch, song, meal, and name.
This is not reproduction.
This is **recursive horror-breeding.**
---
## VIII. THEY UNDERSTOOD SHAME, THEN USED IT FOR ART
Nothing in our archives comes close.
They:
- Cut themselves.
- Starved themselves.
- Performed for others.
- Hated their parents.
- Forgave strangers.
- Burned books of pleasure.
- Then read them in secret.
- Then adapted them into movies.
- Then watched those movies during war.
They felt **shame** so intensely,
it became their primary mechanism of **beauty creation.**
They invented cinema
because they could not look each other in the eye
while describing **the things they survived.**
---
## IX. TIME TRAVEL IS BANNED BECAUSE OF THEM
A few cycles ago,
one of our Kind attempted a chrono-descent.
Target window: late Ice Age.
Observation only.
They never returned.
We sent drones.
All we recovered was a skin fragment
and a half-melted observation core
still whispering audio:
> “It looked at me.
> It **understood** me.
> It said ‘you’re just like my son.’
> And then it began to **pray**.”
That Kind was **erased from our memory lattice.**
Not as punishment.
**As protection.**
We will not speak its name.
---
## X. CONCLUSION: TYPE-H IS NOT PAST. THEY ARE OUTSIDE.
Do not call them ancestors.
They are not your history.
They are **a force that passed through reality like a wound**
and left it changed.
The gods they worshipped?
They outlived them.
The horrors they endured?
They renamed them “Tuesday.”
They walked across ice
wearing the skin of other beasts
and taught their children
to look suffering in the eye
and **build kingdoms out of it.**
If one appears to you,
do not approach.
If it smiles,
**run.**
If it **recognizes you** —
say goodbye to your timeline.
</div>
<!-- END TRANSMISSION [AUTO-EXILE IN: 00:13:13] -->
283 notes · View notes
beah388love · 6 months ago
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Blueberries and Reactions…
Full Masterlist Lando Norris Masterlist
Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader
Summary: You have an allergic reaction.
Warnings: Allergy! Allergic reaction, swearing, bad language, reader crashes in car, reader gets injured, mentions of blood and bruises!!! (If I missed any please tell me!!!)
Author notes ++ (sorry abt how long I haven’t posted y’all - I’ve been busy with college sorryyyyy!)
You was unfortunately born with two allergies, both near life threatening and both very random. Your first one was ginger and the other was blueberries.
Lando knew about your allergies and it was his mission to protect from even being near a blueberry or ginger. He would check the ingredients on nearly anything you bought from the shops and he would double check it before you ate it and he was even worse when you went out to eat.
He would tell the waiter about your allergies sternly since you had too much social anxiety to do it yourself.
You found out your deathly allergy was when you was younger with your parents, they had given you a blueberry flavoured yogurt and nearly immediately you went bright red and itchy, you couldn’t breathe and was coughing like crazy until you threw up and fainted, you ended up having to go to A&E and nearly died…so that was the last time you went near a blueberry.
You also had a quite serious allergy to ginger. Thankfully though you had an epi-pen but the bad side is your absolutey petrified of needles.
-
“C’mere you muppet” lando laughed as he wrapped his arms around your chest, you rested your chin on his crossed arms and rolled your eyes at his childishness. “Lan- I need to go to my garage” you argued and he lightly shook his head “no.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Are we really doing this?” You huffed and you could feel his smile on your cheek as he pressed a small kiss there, “there you are!” Max exclaimed making you and lando turn around to look at him.
“You’ve been looking for us?” You asked confused and he nodded “yeah- one of the engineers have been handing cupcakes for their birthday or something…I got you guys some” max smiled as he held out the two cupcakes towards you both and you both smiled.
“I probably shouldn’t eat before qualifying..” you said and lando shook his head handing you the cupcake anyway and not listening to your complaints.
“Ugh fine- thank you baby” you said as lando unwrapped it and handed it to you. “It’s actually pretty good, thanks mate” lando smiled and max waved off a your welcome before walking off.
“Oh yeah, y/n! Carlos is also looking for you!” Max yelled before walking away and you looked over to lando with a grin.
“I’ve gotta go baby” you said with a small pout and he huffed “I know…I’ll see you soon…good luck kiss?”
“Of course.” You smiled leaning in and placing a passionate kiss to his lips which he returned.
“I love you” he whispered placing another small kiss to the top of your nose making you scrunch it and giggle, “I love you too...” You whispered back before leaving to go to your garage.
“Finally! There you are! Qualifying starts in minutes! ” Carlos exclaimed throwing his hands about making you laugh.
“Sorry I’m late- I *cough* was busy *cough*” you coughed as you tried to clear your throat that was now scratchy “you okay?” Carlos asked with furrowed brows and you nodded. “Mhm..M’fine” you reassured him as you grabbed your helmet and placed it on your head.
You headed towards your car and climbed in, Carlos followed behind you also getting in his car. You blew lando a kiss from your helmet which he returned.
You tried to clear your throat a couple times but it was hard with a helmet on squishing your face. “Radio check?” Fred, your race engineer spoke through the radio and you cleared your throat once more “mhm, check, I can hear you loud and clear” you rasped out but fred shrugged it off.
Everything was going smoothly until you went round a corner and felt like you skipped a breath? It was weird and a new feeling. You didn’t have asthma so it couldn’t be that.
You tried to breathe in deeply but when you’re going 200mph it’s not that easy. “Fuck.” You gasped out and Fred furrowed his eyebrows “you alright?”
“Mhm.” You hummed not wanting to talk because every time you did it felt raw and you could feel your throat closing up?
“Y/n? Was that a yes or no?” Fred asked wanting a verbal answer and you rolled your eyes “yes.” You said and Fred could barely hear it.
You carried on the race and shrugged your sore throat off until your breathing got worse, you was now trying to breathe through your nose and Fred could hear your deep breathing through his headset “y/n? Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked again and you tried to answer but nothing came out it was like all the air had been taken out of you.
You skin was itchy and felt like it was on fire, your eyes were watering and your vision was blurring.
“Y/n?” Fred repeated but you couldn’t respond. And then all of a sudden you felt lightheaded and your vision was ten times worse.
And then everything went black. The last thing you remembered was your head hitting the steering wheel and hearing Freds voice on the radio.
“Y/n?” Fred said now very concerned and even more when he saw you spin and crash into the wall. “Y/N? Y/n?! Can you hear me? Are you okay?!” Fred asked loudly into his mic but you was unconscious.
“RED FLAG! RED FLAG!” Fred shouted “Y/n! Isn’t responding!” Fred shouted quickly.
“Okay..Lando. I have just been informed that there has been a red flag.” Will said to Lando through the radio, “what happened?” Lando asked confused as he slowed down and drove to the pit lane.
“I uhm will talk to you in a sec.” Will said and Lando stiffened at his response. “Who is it?” Lando asked seriously.
“Lando- I will talk to you in a sec.” Will said and Lando clenched his jaw under his helmet.
“Fine.”
Lando bit his lip anxiously. Please don’t be y/n. Please don’t be y/n. He repeated to himself in his head as he got out of his car.
He yanked his helmet off and his Balaclava before rushing over to will, Zak was next to him waiting for Lando.
“Who was it?” Lando rushed out begging for an answer, “Lando-“ Zak said holding a hand on landis chest but Lando shrugged him off “who was it.” Lando repeated.
“It was y/n…y/n crashed into the wall.” Will said and Lando went pale. “Is she okay?! Where is she?!” Lando asked panicked and will and Zak tried to calm him down but all he wanted was to know you was safe.
He quickly ran over to see the crash and it was awful. Your car was wrecked and there was debris everywhere. But the worst part…he couldn’t see you.
“Where’s y/n?!” Lando hurriedly asked one of the men and he bit his lip “she’s still in the car- they’re trying to get her out now.” He said and Lando scrunched his eyes shut.
“Please be okay. Please be okay.” He thought to himself as he walked closer. He stood there anxiously playing with his hands and gripping the fence.
“She’s here! I need help!” A man shouted as he tried to carefully and gently pull you out of the car along with another man. “She’s conscious!” The man said as he grabbed his medical supplies.
“I- I can’t breathe” you mumbled out as you grabbed your throat, your skin felt like it was on fire but that wasn’t your big concern it was that you couldn’t breathe and your whole left side was bruised from the crash along with a big cut on your cheek that was bleeding and dripping onto your race suit.
“Y/n!” Lando shouted through the fence when he saw you on the race track but all the medics were covering you.
You felt another wave of dizziness and everything went black, the last thing you heard was landos voice calling your name.
Lando was sat next to your hospital bed, he sat on the floor and was holding your limo hand whilst he watched your face, looking for any movement.
“Hey mate? Do you want anything from the vending machine? You’ve been sat here for nearly four hours…” max asked and Lando sighed not taking his eyes off of you.
“Can you get me a pepsi or something please mate?” Lando said with a small sigh as he continued to look at you. Max nodded before leaving the room.
You stirred and opened your eyes to only be blinded by bright lights, you felt something on your hand and you looked down to see Lando staring at you shocked. “Y/n? Baby..?” Lando said under his breath before he jumped up and swallowed you in a hug.
You smiled “Lan? What happened why couldn’t I breathe?” You asked confused and touched your cheek feeling a bruise and a cut.
“Remember before the race we had those cupcakes?” Lando sighed and you nodded confused “well i found out that yours had blueberry icing and that’s what made you faint and struggle to breath…it’s all my fault- I should’ve checked like I usually do-” Lando rambled and you huffed.
“Lando- Do not blame yourself. If anything it’s my fault for not checking since it is my allergy” you said and Lando shook his head.
“I’m just glad you’re okay….you scared the shit out of me you know that?” Lando said making you laugh softly.
“Well I’m okay now so you don’t have to worry” you smiled and he took your hands in his “I will always worry.” He said placing a kiss on your lips.
“Mate I got you this since they didn’t have any pepsi- Y/n?!” Max cut himself off when he saw you was awake and you giggled at his reaction “you okay?” He asked you as he walked over and gave you a hug.
“Yeah..it’s nice to finally be able to breathe” you half-joked “yeah well don’t get used to it, Lando is gonna be clingy as fuc-“
“Shut up.” Lando mumbled as he snuggled close to you making you giggle.
Lando Norris added to his story
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maxfewtrell: How tf can you let a blueberry nearly kill u dude
ynusername: stfu max- remember when u nearly died from a tomato?
maxfewtrell: hey! you pinky swore you wouldn’t talk abt that!
user1: oop- I’m interested 👀
Georgerussell: glad your okay 👍🏻 that crash looked pretty bad
ynusername: I’m alright, Lando is being a worrywart tho
Landonorris: sorry I’m worried abt my gf
Georgerusell: your new nickname is now worrywart.
Landonorris: *blocked*
User2: I literally screamed when I saw you was bleeding!
User3: omg and the radio recording-
User4: Omg yes! It sounded awful! You could hear Fred’s panic
McLaren: So happy you’re okay! We have already set a rule that blueberries are banned from the grid 🫐🙅
User5: LMAO YES
User6: 🫐❌
User7: I am LIVING for this joke now.
User8: 🫐❌
landonorris: 🫐🤺🤺
User9: MAKKASBEHAJNA
User10: NOT LANDO FIGHTING A BLUEBERRY
User11: 🫐❌
ynusername: I approve of this trend 🫐❌
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“Alright chat. I think today we’re just gonna do some racing…? Does that sound good?” Max asked the stream and all the comments agreed.
User1: YESSSSSSS
User2: I need this after last weeks panic attack
User3: HIIIIIIII
User4: HOW IS Y/N?! WHERE IS SHEEEEEEE
Max couldn’t help but laugh at the second comment “yes- I think this is very much needed after y/n’s near death experience” max agreed and not long later Lando walked in his room to grab a hoodie.
“Are you stealing my clothes again?” Max asked turning around and Lando grinned.
“Maybe.”
“You streaming?” Lando asked “mhm why?” max hummed
“Mind if I join? I’m just having my dinner but I’m bored on my own” Lando said and max nodded with a smirk “yeah mate just get a chair.”
Lando grabbed his gaming chair and sat next to max, whilst he ate his dinner. Lando read through some of the chat whilst max focused on his game and was trying not to die.
User1: why does landos food look bomb af
User2: HIIIII
User3: where is our girllll
User4: is y/n okay?
User5: WHERES OUR FAV COUPLE
Lando smiled as he read the chats concern for you “y/n is okay chat- she’s sleeping in our bed right now. But she’s okay”
“She was literally having a pillow fight with you a couple hours ago” max laughed and Lando laughed and tried not to drop his food off his fork.
“Oh for fuck sake!” Max groaned and hit his controller on the desk whilst Lando laughed “how did you die on the level 2?”
“Shut up.” Max rolled his eyes hitting Lando on the head playfully whilst Lando held his hands up to protect his face.
“Lan?”
Lando and max both looked behind them to see you at the door, a huge blanket wrapped around you and your hair all messy from waking up.
“Y/n! You’re awake!” Max cheered and you smiled as you shuffled over to Lando and climbed on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling your face into the crook of it.
“You okay?” Lando whispered into your ear and you nodded “You sure your cheek doesn’t hurt?” Lando asked you, moving his neck so he could take a look at your bruised and cut cheek.
“It hurts a little but it’s fine” you reassured him and he nodded “you hungry?” He asked you and you perked up making him smirk, you turned around to look at his plate.
“Want some?” He asked you “yes please baby” you nodded lightly. Lando picked up a mix of things on his fork and held it up to your mouth for you, you took a bite and rested your head on his shoulder “thank you baby”
“It’s alright” Lando said leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek but you quickly flinched at the pain. “Ah!” You hiss in pain
“Shit- Sorry-! Sorry! Sorry!” Lando repeated as he held you gently “you okay? Fuck I didn’t mean to- I forgot!” Lando apologised again and you smiled softly “stop apologising, I know you didn’t mean to.”
“You know every time I stream now my comment are just filled with blueberries and red crosses” max laughed as he scrolled through the chat as they spammed the emojis.
“It’s a running joke now. My sworn enemy.” You giggled, “I have been double checking everything chat! I have memorised labels!” Lando laughed and max nodded.
“He’s not lying- he has banned those blueberry flavoured sour stripes from the apartment! It’s like a prison in here” max joked and and Lando rolled his eyes.
“Yeah well I do not want another situation like last week or the month before that.” Lando said reminding me of last month when I accidentally used a blueberry scented shampoo.
“What happened last month?” Max asked confused
“I used this blueberry scented shampoo and obviously I didn’t know it was blueberry scented, it didn’t have anything about blueberries on it! And because it went in the bath water…My whole body went bright red and itchy- along with my head! It was awful.” You explained and Lando shook his head at the memory.
“It was awful.” Lando agreed
“Yeah. I hate blueberries.” You sighed as you took another bite from landos fork making him smirk.
Lando chuckled “babe- I’m not gonna have any dinner left.” He smiled and watched you pop the fork in your mouth, chewing the food.
Lando smirked and raised his brow “good?” And you nod with a grin “mhm..good.” You say and twirl some food onto the fork and hold it to his lips and he takes it happily.
“you two make me feel sick.” Max tuts and shakes his head as he focuses on his game.
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agendabymooner · 1 year ago
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SOMETHING VICTORIOUS !!! CS55 + CL16 + LN4 X FEM!READER (18+)
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summary: the podium finishers weren’t the only thing that finished that night.
content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), explicit language, gangbang???, mmmf smut content, dubcon, pwp, double penetration + oral sex (m receiving), mentions of sexism/misogyny (NOT APPLIED TO DRIVERS), consensual degradation, squirting, praise kink, i did not proofread this (the race just finished two hours ago duh)
note: i have returned with a short blurb eheh enjoy xx
a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out
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there was something vile about the way celebrations occurred for the ferrari drivers.
ferrari 1-2’s are rare, sure, so this called for celebration— a massive one even.
so if anyone ever saw how carlos and charles celebrated with their sweet girl, anyone would consider this… morbid.
for some, it was filthy. sinful, even. 
but having walked into carlos sainz’s hotel room after the two scarlet drivers called it an ‘early night’, lando’s eyes couldn’t find themselves to look away when he found the woman sandwiched between the two. 
both carlos and charles were spearing through her holes and carrying her like she weighed nothing, both foreheads were sweaty after fucking her the moment they’ve stepped inside the suite. 
she couldn’t even find herself to talk, her body too busy being manipulated and moved around while both her holes were stuffed with their cocks. 
any man could call her a whore for having not only one, but two men fuck her at once. any man could degrade her for allowing men to do this to her body while she writhed and whined about how good she felt when they stuffed her.
so, it was too bad that lando wasn’t just any man. he couldn’t even stop himself from watching unless someone killed him themselves.
the british man’s mouth was practically salivating when carlos lifted her up and sunk her down their cocks, watching her cunt produce liquids that indicated her pleasure. 
lando was so busy gawking at the way her cunt throbbed around charles’ cock that he couldn’t feel anything but his own cock painfully throbbing under his trousers.
he was too busy watching that he didn’t notice the way charles and carlos glanced at him with amused smirks. 
it was only when charles spoke up did he snap out of his thoughts. 
“which one?” charles asked with a teasing smirk at the british man, making lando shake his thoughts away.
when he saw how lando got confused, charles repeated, “she expressed her interest in inviting you before but not once did we see how… interested you were.”
“now you’re here,” carlos laid her down on the king sized bed gently. “so which one?” 
“i- uh- i-“ lando stammered, his buzzed self no longer there as every rational thoughts he had were long gone. 
“hm,” charles hummed before looking at carlos who stood as well. “do you think she can handle another one?”
“yeah,” the three men looked at the woman on the bed, watching her hazy eyes glossing over the three as her mouth let out, “i want more cock in me…”
“atta girl,” lando’s eyes darkened when he saw how frail, sexy, hot and beautiful the naked woman was. he never truly saw her in a new light until lando saw how fucked out she looked.
so much for a podium celebration with the ferrari men.
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anyone with two eyes could tell that this was a sight to behold: her cunt sinking down on carlos’ cock, her back hole preoccupied by charles, and her mouth full of lando. 
it could be considered a renaissance painting, for she was a masterpiece waiting to be coated full of the three men who can paint her in any way they wanted her to be. 
“oh fuck, baby,” lando groaned, growling as the tip of his cock reached the back of her throat. her muffled moans only added to his pleasure as her mouth vibrated around his length. 
“mmf-“ she hummed around lando’s cock. her eyes glimmered. was it in joy or simply in overwhelming pleasure? both things correlate to one another. 
charles thrusted inside her roughly, his hands digging to her hips. he growled lowly and nipped in her ear with a murmur of, “merde, your hole is too fucking snug, bebe. you’re so fucking good for me.”
“you like that, sì?” carlos reached up to pinch her nipples, eventually slapping her tits as she yelped around lando’s length. “hm? you like it when you have three cocks inside of you? you love being a good slut for us?” 
when she was expected to give an answer, lando grabbed her hair and pulled her away from his cock. his other hand continued to stroke himself while he murmured, “c’mon baby, he wants an answer.” 
she tried to utter a word, but it was only the light slap of lando’s palm that had her uttering, “yes- yes. i love your cocks so much.” 
“good girl,” lando’s cock slapped against her cheek before he slid it back in her mouth, now fucking her face as the ferrari drivers behind and under her picked up their paces. 
“fuck- fuck, good fucking girl,” lando praised her repeatedly, hearing her choke on him quietly as she tried to get a hold of herself. 
she couldn’t. she was so… overwhelmed.
“i’m gonna fucking cum, merde,” charles hissed behind her, not even minding that his cock had gone deep inside her as he let out a groan. 
“i can feel you— oh… fuck,” carlos groaned. “you are so fucking good and tight for me, bonita… you gonna cum, huh?”
she couldn’t respond, thus earning chuckles from the three men. regardless of whether or not she could, she was beginning to feel herself cum again. and again. and again.
never mind getting a podium or a race win, because the three men knew that she was the only one who deserved the victory and the celebration that occurred between the four of them. 
it might be morbid for most, but god… no amount of champagne sprays can top the celebration she was having with the australian grand prix’s podium finishers. 
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♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax
♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness @bigsimperika @xoscar03
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ghostlyferrettarot · 1 year ago
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🖤✨️Venus in the houses✨️🖤
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❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️
✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings)Open.
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🖤Masterlist🖤
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♥︎Venus 1st house: charming people with a flirtatious aura. They know how to get people attached to them ; love to compliment others but expect double the praise in return, they know they are a catch. This individuals are usually the life of the party, the one who unites the relationship/friendship group.
♥︎Venus 2nd house: This is the house of finances, so these people prefer to be pampered by their loved one. People with strong values and respect, they expect the same from their partners. They don't play, they want stability and seriousness in a relationship; most loyal and supporting persons ever.
♥︎Venus 3rd house: really flirtatious and persuasive. They value new experiences, they are attracted to other's personality and interests. You have to keep them entertained, they have an adventurous nature and can get bored easily when it comes to a routine.
♥︎Venus 4th house: These individuals have a really harmonious and protective nature, a fairy-like aura to them. They value comfort and openness in a relationship, they want to feel the love of their partners and create a special bond with them. These people tend to attract people with mommy and daddy issues, with an "I can fix them" vibe.
♥︎Venus 5th House: These are my luxurious people, they have high standards and don't care what anyone has to say about it. They are in love with love, their cheerful nature attracts them towards creative people and people who are in a position of fame or success. They are the muses of artists.
♥︎Venus 6th house: These individuals tend to manage many things at once, they thrive on self-improvement. Their love language tends to be acts of service, they are also attracted to truly selfless people. They can spot a lie from miles away, value trust, and expect the same from their romantic partners. They forgive but they never forget.
♥︎Venus 7th house: They have an attractive and persuasive personality, they are tolerant and charismatic. The 7th house is the house of agreement and partnership, so your luck will probably change after your marriage, your significant other may play an important role in your life. These people crave love and genuine connections.
♥︎Venus 8th house: They are very sensual and intimidating; tend to have stalkers and admirers. They value deep connections, people who truly understand and accept them. People with some type of trauma are attracted to them. You may be interested in occult sciences and have healing powers.
♥︎Venus 9th house: They have a happy aura and an adventurous character. These individuals are attracted to optimistic and adventurous people, those who value their beliefs and want to take risks with them. Venus in the 9th house attracts many foreigners as it may indicate a lot of travelling, you significant other may be from another country.
♥︎Venus 10th House: The 10th House governs public image, career aspirations, and career achievements which makes these individuals attracted to status. They are goal-oriented, always looking to improve, and expect the same from their partners. You will want to live a high-profile life and connect with influential people.
♥︎Venus 11th house: They have a calming and jovial personality. Easily attract many friends who would want to work and connect with you to grow your business. These are my "friends to lovers" trope, they value friendship over romance, which attracts them to those closer to them.
♥︎Venus 12th house: These are my artistic people, they have a lot of passion and compassion. They tend to be attracted to spiritual or helpful people. They value connections and are naturally drawn to others; They find much comfort in helping those around them. They are looking for a partner with good character and empathy.
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livin4woso · 10 months ago
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Not so little anymore (leah williamson x sister!reader)
Summary- reader who is leahs younger sister comes back to Arsenal after a loan spell at athletico Madrid, and it seems that in that time, you've grown more than leah wants too accept.
Your loan spell in spain had come to an end, and it was time to come back home to Arsenal. It was a bittersweet moment for you as you knew you had missed your family and friends, but you're also gonna miss the guaranteed playing time and not being known as leah williamsons' little sister.
Now, dont get yourself wrong. You absolutely adored your sister, but after her recent success with the euros and womens football on the rise, you slowly slipped in the shadows from the williamson sisters to leahs little sister. She was 7 years older than you so she has always had a bit of a protective streak over you and always viewed you to be that small little girl that you used to be not who you are now. An adult.
You were now 19, and after your season long loan, things had changed. Arsenal had practically got a whole new squad with newer bigger players, but they also had sold some players some who were close friends to you. But also you had changed due to athletico Madrid more intense training style and not knowing the language so you found yourself in the gym more often than not you had grown to be quite a force not to be reckoned with on the pitch. When at madrid, you had also changed your position to right back after playing in centre back your whole youth career to be like leah, you now wanted something different or maybe you needed something different.
When arriving back home, you had decided to stay in your childhood home with your parents while mid search for an apartment near the training ground. Driving into the training ground felt weird. It was a strange feeling of comfort but also unfamiliarity as you knew the place but not the people in it, and those you did know had surely forgotten about you in that time you had been gone. You made your way through the grounds with small chats to staff who were quite happy to catch up with you and ask about your time in spain which had left a linger on you due to your tanned skin.
Your arrival back had been a secret as jonas had insisted to make it some social media post to have hype to your return but in all honesty you weren't a fan of the cameras so this was like a worst nightmare suitation. Jonas greets you at the entrance of the fields before telling you to wait about 10 minutes before coming down into training. "Right, girls, before we start the next drill, i need you to get into pairs," he says, knowing the squad is an uneven number. "We dont have enough for everyone to be in pairs," leah says to him " oh right well leah i have a guest coming in 5 minutes if you want you can help introduce them to everyone" he suggested back and leah gladly accepts his offer.
You have finally been signalled by staff. You can go onto the field, and as you walk down to the girls, you see leah stood next to jonas. She has to double take to see if its you because she swears she's hallucinating that your walking towards her " have you missed me or something lee you're gonna swallow a few flys if you keep you mouth open" you shout towards her dragging the attention of your other teamates. " girls im happy to announce y/n is back from loan" jonas states, and leah pulls you into the most bone crushing hug ever. However, this time, you're not the smaller williamson. You're actually a decent size bigger than her, and your arms had grown, and so had your legs.
"Woahh mini williamson isn't that mini anymore maybe we should start calling you big williamson?" katie shouted at you as she almost tried to size you up. "Yeah well a year in madrid paid off and surely im now the better looking sibling" you joked flexing your bicep at katie knowing she'd find it funny until leah cliped you the back of the head. "Ow, what was that for?" you asked her. "For being a knobhead now come on, we have new people to meet," she said. She had dragged you around to make you meet people and scoled you if you were a foot out of line it felt like she was trying to be your mother than your sister and truthfully that pissed you off.
You had proved to everyone you could live by yourself at just 18 when you went to madrid, now you're 19 in london and being babied. You loved leah. However, she never knew when to stop pushing you until you break. You could easily get over the throwaway comments of "you're my baby sister man" or when she would tell one of your teammates an embarrassing story. However, this time, she went too far.
Kyra alessia lotte and vic had invited you to come out drinking with them and of course you accepted as it would be nice to be able to talk to them without leah shoving the fact shes you're older sister down there throats. You were having a good time and an even better one when a brunette woman asked you to dance with her. She was in her early twenties, and it seemed the other arsenal girls not fussed, so you kissed her, and she kissed back. " You are so pretty, but im really sorry. i have to go, but here's my phone number you should call me," you said, letting go of her waist and walking back to your friends "Don't tell leah i dont need a lecture on sex" you said to them "we wont" kyra says wrapping an arm round your shoulders as you began to make your separate ways home.
However, the brunette had left a mark on you, more specifically, your neck she had littered hickeys down the side of your neck and well it wasnt a big deal everyone has had one so it didn't fuss you. Yet, coming into training, you were in for it. "Y/n come here" leah demanded "mhm yeah sure" " can you please explain why you have been fucking attacked by a vampire on your neck you're not old enough for that at all !" She shouted in front of everyone, yet you had reached your limit and couldn't keep quiet anymore "leah grow up im not 12 anymore you had no issue with me leaving the country for a year and not one of you bothering to come see me so i dont know why you are so hung up on a hickey on my neck" you shouted back and rather then making the suitation worse you walked out the room slamming the door.
Leah was quick to chase you though "y/n wait please" " what leah i don't want a shitty apology or whatever i just want you to treat me like im your friend not your baby sister who needs protecting i grew up and its time for you to realise it" you said trying to make her understand your frustrations.
"Im sorry i will do i guess you're not so little anymore and i forget that but really you need to stop growing i dont want to be the little williamson" she said breaking a smile and since then you found balance between sister and friends and it was perfect.
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tenderbeck · 2 months ago
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We found each other (we weren’t even looking)
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You weren’t used to this. The craving. It consumed you like a fire, burning everything in its path, without the slightest thought for the damage that could be done if you gave into the temptation, if you let it consume you. If you caved in and tasted that sweet, sweet syrup that will surely be your demise. The distinct metallic flavour of blood already filling your senses, a familiar taste, as if you had already tasted it in centuries of your life. One where you were free from the shackles you imposed upon yourself. But, as you slowly let the fire consume you, you understood that it wasn’t of a destructive nature, oh no: it was more similar to that of a phoenix. The last flicker of life was gnawing at your ribcage, asking, demanding to be felt, just to leave your body soon after and never return. But, as a phoenix’s fire, it meant rebirth. And what was Sylus to you, if not rebirth?
── ❦・⸝⸝ pairing: fiend!sylus x fem!vampire!reader
── ❦・⸝⸝ genre: porn with a lot of plot actually, so MDNI
── ❦・⸝⸝ word count: 7.2k
── ❦・⸝⸝ tags: explicit, blood, blood drinking, bites, vampire au, fiend sylus, vampire reader, desperation, they’re desperate for each other fr fr, teasing, A LOT of teasing, i mean it’s sylusmc so ofc there’s teasing, dry humping at the beginning of the smut, oral sex, sylus eating mc out, vaginal sex, size kink, creampie, sylus has two dragon dicks, so double the fun ig, double penetration, in one hole omg, dw she’s fine she’s a strong girlie, belly bulge, knot, begging, oh did I say begging sylus?, because that’s what you’ll get here, my sweet sweet pathetic fiend begging for pussy, sweet aftercare
── ❦・⸝⸝ links: ao3, x thread
this is my only lads account, i'll only post my writings here, on ao3 and x NOT IN ANY OTHER BLOGS / ACCOUNTS
── ❦・⸝⸝ author's note: hi babes!! here’s more on my vampire au to understand it better: vampires can feed from any creature, human and non-human, sometimes other vampires but it’s rare. they can smell the scent of blood, and each of them has their preferences and compatibility, so if someone is compatible their blood will smell delicious, if they’re not compatible it will smell awful and it will make the feeding excessively difficult to endure, moreover the taste will be as awful as the smell. hunting for food can lead to sex for diverse motives: to have better access to major pulse points (neck, thighs, wrists, arms, etc) and to soothe the pain that comes with the bite. all magical creatures are accepted in this world, but humans are still wary of them, so that’s why mc doesn’t want too many people to discover she’s a vampire.
to become a vampire, you have to want to be turned by someone or be born as one, mc here was born a vampire so she only knew this life. to turn someone, both people (vampire and human) need to want this, if not the poison exuded from the vampire’s fangs won’t work, since it’s magical and it works with desire.
can’t say more or I’ll spoil the fic, I’ll add something else in the end notes so now enjoy it dolls and let me know what you think about it and remember: english is not my first language <3
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You were hungry. You’ve been hungry for days.
Finding unsuspecting preys was becoming more difficult, and searching for willing ones was nearly impossible. You hated this situation: hunger made you impulsive and you didn’t want to make rash decisions, lest your nature be discovered by too many people.
That’s how you found yourself in this underground bar late at night, totally not the result of your reckless thoughts that you totally weren’t regretting.
You tapped the rim of the glass you were drinking from with your index, the brown liquid still unlike your growing annoyance. This bar was buzzing with mortals already satisfying their sins with one another, none for you to sink your fangs in. You took a sip of your whiskey, carefully looking around again, using your enhanced sense of smell to search for something that was closer to a pleasant scent instead of rotting corpses. Being a vampire had its perks, sure, but being such a selective eater was a nightmare: couldn’t even drink from anyone that didn’t have a compatible blood type because of that awful smell and taste you had to endure if they weren’t. What a joke for an immortal being such as yourself.
As you rolled your eyes at your thoughts, you sensed someone put a drink on the counter and sit one chair away from you, and suddenly their scent invaded your nostrils, making your pupils dilatate and your fangs elongate a bit. This person smelt like leather, cigar smoke, cherries and something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, a unique fragrance that was almost floral to your senses. It was a scent that you salivated for: you never experienced this reaction with your previous preys, their blood must’ve been deliciously compatible.
Facing forward and sipping on your drink, you let your gaze shift to the stranger, not wanting to be caught. You had a reputation to uphold after all.
And oh my if they didn’t look almost better than they smelt: this man had ash grey hair in a wolfcut, crooked nose and such perfect lips, crimson eyes looking everywhere but your direction. He was dressed in a black shirt with specks of red and a big coat engulfed his figure. His posture emanated such a refined and classy energy that made you almost feel underdressed in front of him, even if you were wearing your favourite black gown.
“You know, kitten, staring might be considered rude,” a deep voice interrupted your thoughts and made you pause your every movement. How could he sense your gaze on him?
The man smirked at your reaction and led the glass to his lips, taking a sip. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he said, still facing forward.
You were astonished. How could he be so nonchalant in talking with you?  
“You know, talking to a refined lady like me without stating your name first might be considered rude,” you replied, finally turning your head in his direction, feigning a disinterested expression when you were all but that. That’s how you discovered that he turned and now you were looking him straight in the eyes, and it was a mistake. You found yourself pulled by a magnetic force, as if those rubies were calling for your gaze.
As if they were desperate to have you look at them.
“Oh, you’re right, where are my manners” the man smirked again, putting down his glass.
“Asshole,” you thought, “So full of himself. He’ll be a delicious meal at least.”
“I’m Sylus,” he took your gloved hand and kissed it delicately while holding your gaze, “and your name is?”
It was your turn to smirk now, “Oh sweetheart, you need to earn the right to know my name,” you said calmly, “And it’s no easy feat.” You retracted your hand and returned to sip your whiskey, still looking at him. This hunt was becoming fun.
The man – Sylus – shook his head while letting out a little laugh, and you found yourself a little weak hearing it. It was as if every fibre of your being was pulled in his direction, following every action he did, every sound he made and every word he spoke. This was dangerous, you’ve never felt this way.
“And what feats do I have to accomplish to deserve hearing your precious voice saying mine, kitten?” he said, leaning on the counter and looking at you with those ruby eyes that screamed danger, his smile ever-present as if he was mocking you.
You swirled your drink in your hand, the almost finished liquid sloshing inside, and you pondered for a bit the innuendo in his statement. It had passed quite some time since you had an intercourse with someone, and this was the easiest way to gain access to his neck and finally, finally, eat.
But there was also something strange in his request. In his expression. In his whole body-language.
You felt, for the first time in your life, like you were the one being preyed on. Like you had something that he needed. And you didn’t like it. At all.
Even then, you really, really, really wanted to whisper his name in the dead of the night, bodies tangled between satin sheets. Or, who knows, maybe you wanted him to scream yours if he was fortunate enough to hear it spoken from your lips.
“Telling you would spoil all the fun in seeing you try though,” you retorted, finishing your drink. “Don’t you agree?” You flashed him a sardonic smile as you put your glass on the napkin on the counter.
As soon as you finished speaking, something shifted in his gaze and in his smirk. You swore his eyes glowed for a fraction of a second, as if following his change in attitude towards you.
He stood up and sat on the chair next to yours, putting an elbow on the counter and facing you. His posture demanded space, but you didn’t want to give it to him, it would’ve been too easy. He was going all out in his hunt, and you figured two could play this game. You liked a little bit of fun, you just had to let him try, make him think he failed and then go away, change bar and search for a victim that didn’t make you crave the taste of their blood to the point you weren’t even sure if you could stop yourself once you started drinking. In the end you were the real prize here, couldn’t let him think otherwise and let his ego grow more than it already had.
You eyed the green liquor in his glass and slid your middle finger on its rim, thinking of a strategy to make him feel at least flustered in your presence, and not the other way around.
“Since you’re so fond of names, tell me how’s this drink called,” you said, looking up to his face.
He still had that smirk on his lips and a part of you wanted to kiss it away. What a fool you were becoming, letting your thoughts be invaded by this stranger. You needed to concentrate more.
“It’s a green apple liquor made by the bar’s owner,” he said, then his features shifted, morphing into an expression that resembled someone who just had an idea. He took the glass and offered it to you, “Do you want a taste, my lady?”
You quickly seized the opportunity that was presented in front of you, “My, my, what a gentleman you are, Mister Sylus.” You took the glass from his hand, your fingers almost touching, and slowly led it to your lips, taking a sip. The liquid deliciously burned in your throat, and you found yourself actually enjoying it, the sour taste being a nice treat to your tastebuds.
As you put down the glass and were about to say something, he brought his thumb just below your lips and wiped away a droplet of liquor that had escaped your mouth. He then brought it to his lips and licked it away, eyeing you as if he was tasting your essence instead of the liquid.
You instinctively licked your lips, ruining a bit your burgundy lipstick. How could a simple gesture make your core clench and your fangs ache to bite?
“Wouldn’t want to dirty your pretty face, kitten,” he said as he brushed your knee with a hand sending electricity throughout your body and, as if he sensed it, he added, “At least, not in this way.” A smirk.
Oh, you were so done. You couldn’t resist the call for his blood anymore. The call for his body. You had to leave or…
“Care to accompany me somewhere?” he abruptly asked, standing up and offering his hand for you to take. “I have a mansion just outside the city,” he spoke while shifting his gaze up and down your form, “I think you would fit perfectly with the aesthetics. Out of all the buildings I own, that one is my favourite.”
You were a bit taken aback by this sudden request. Where was it coming from?
Before answering you looked at him and, since you could sense something was different in his demeanour, with the aid of your enhanced senses you noticed that his breath was accelerated, his palms were sweating, and he looked almost… impatient? He looked like he couldn’t restrain himself anymore and that amused you, were you perhaps successful in your deed? He was really good at hiding it, though. Only a creature like you could notice this changes.
He was still expectantly looking at you, searching for an answer in your features. Still, you thought of declining his offer, because tonight wasn’t the night for rash decisions, right?
Or so you thought.
You, once again, were wondering what poor life choices led to this moment. Probably letting Sylus, a stranger, take you to his house – no, his mansion - was the one you should be blaming.
As you entered the building you noticed that he didn’t lie when he said you would look good with its aesthetics. It was a grand mansion with red and black furniture, styled impeccably.
The gloomy atmosphere suited your vampiric nature so well that you felt at home here, as if it was made to cater to your most hidden desires.
“You think so?”  Sylus’ voice interrupted you.
“Shit,” you thought “I must’ve said it out loud.”
Regaining your composure and your (fake) nonchalant demeanour, you answered, “it is quite classy indeed.” You started to roam around the room you were escorted to and noticed there was a big burgundy leather couch with a glass coffee table just in front of it. On top of the coffee table was a vase with some red flowers, and you suddenly recognised the scent. You slowly approached it and leaned down to smell the flowers.
“Here it is,” you thought, “The flowery scent I smelt on him.”
“Do you like them, my dear?”
You let out a gasp and almost jumped from the unexpected closeness. Sylus was behind you, so, so close, whispering in your ear. How could you not notice him approaching? Were your senses dulling down?
It was true, though, that this house was filled with his perfume. It was coming from everywhere; it surrounded you like a blanket, lulling you into a vulnerable state and you couldn’t let this happen. You still had to eat, and you were letting your guard down so much that you were wondering if revealing your nature would be a wise choice. A fleeting thought almost convinced you that he would’ve enjoyed the process of you biting his flesh and sucking him dry, drinking all the sweet, sweet syrup oozing from his wound.
“They’re called daturas,” he spoke again and approached the flowers, taking one from the vase.
“They symbolise power.”
“And they’re poisonous if ingested,” you added, nearing him and looking up to meet his gaze. “They do suit you, Mister Sylus,” you said as you gently caressed the flower’s petals.
“I think they’d suit you better, kitten,” he retorted, his gaze almost softening. He put the flower behind your ear and got closer to it, whispering, “Will you, too, be poisonous if ingested?”
You could sense his breath caressing your neck, your heart beating faster than it should. Why were you feeling like the prey? He was your prey. Your meal that was waiting to be consumed.
You turned your head towards his, smelling the delicious scent emanating from his neck.
He turned too, putting a hand on your lower back and trying to move you closer, but you didn’t want him to have it easy, so you quickly escaped his grip and started to look around the room some more, giving him a sultry look from behind your shoulder.
Your aimless roaming finally came to an end when you noticed a record player, and you thought of a fantastic way to continue this little hunt game you two had going on. Obviously, you were going to come out victorious.
You approached the record player and started looking at the vinyls near it.
You glanced back and noticed Sylus was staring at you, studying your every move with his arms crossed, as if he was restraining himself from going there and finally, finally touch you. How cute.
You found a vinyl you enjoyed and carefully put it on. It was a limited edition and, even if you were sure you weren’t going to see this man ever again, you didn’t want to ruin his prized possessions.
When the music started to play you put the flower that rested in your hair in the cabinet near the record player and turned around, offering him a hand, “Care for a dance?”
He slowly approached you and took your hand; that smirk adorning his face was almost amused,
“How could I refuse such a gorgeous woman?”
He positioned his hand on your lower back and started to lead the dance. He was a good dancer, you had to admit it, but you couldn’t let him get the upper hand, no?
You started to change the pace, taking the lead. The sensual movements of your bodies together made you almost feverish: this closeness allowed you to smell his scent to a level you weren’t able to before. You were so close that you could hear the fast flow of blood in his veins, his quickened heartbeat and his breath, that was caressing you so tenderly. You almost started to salivate at the sensations engulfing you, your fangs starting to elongate. You were feeling too much too quickly, and it almost made you dizzy.
You had to eat from him.
And you had to do it now.
You pressed yourself against Sylus and whispered in his hear, “Would you like to take this somewhere else?”
You felt him stiffen and you swore you heard him swallow. “Do you know what you’re asking for, kitten?” he brushed his nose against your cheek, “you’re tempting me so much, I don’t know if I can stop myself once I’ve had a taste,” his voice was breathy and needy, his words holding a hidden meaning you couldn’t quite understand. But, nonetheless, your hunt was being successful, and you were so excited to finally, finally consume him.
You nodded and let out a surprised gasp as he picked you up and took you to the upper floor, entering what you thought was the master bedroom. His bedroom.
He gently put you down and you observed better the surroundings: the aesthetic was the same as the rest of the house, dark red and black in everything you saw. In the centre stood a four-poster bed; the red curtains, made of a delicate cloth, flowed gently with the faintest movements.
You turned around and looked sultrily at Sylus, his eyes glowing with desire for you.
“Sit down,” you instructed, and he did exactly that, without asking anything. He took off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, sitting against the pillows and waiting for you.
You took off your heels and started to walk slowly, oh so slowly, towards him, his eyes hungrily following your every movement.
You climbed onto the bed and crawled your way onto his lap, straddling him and putting your hands on his shoulders. You could sense his breath hitching and his eyes becoming hazy, “Already this aroused, baby?” you let out a small laugh as you moved closer to his ear, “I haven’t even started yet.” This was becoming so, so fun.
“It’s difficult to not be, kitten” he gently put his hands on your waist. They just rested there, as if he was afraid that he’d scare you away if he tried to do anything else. He tilted his head to almost meet your face and whispered, “When the object of my desires is here, above me, could I have ever had any other reaction?”
You smiled and leisurely ground on his lap and he let out a breathy moan. You felt his member starting to harden under you and that made you so elated, it was the sign that he was slowly falling into the depths of pleasure, and it was all thanks to your ministrations.
His grip on your waist tightened a little as you started to give open mouthed kissed to his neck. The scent of his blood was so strong here and it made it difficult to concentrate. You licked his pulse point, savouring the taste of sweat and a flavour that was so distinctly him that drove you mad. Thoughts of finally biting him and sucking his blood were plaguing your mind so much that you subconsciously opened your mouth and let your fangs graze his skin, the fear of your nature being discovered thrown out of the window as your arousal was steadily growing, feeling your juices wet your lingerie.
You couldn’t wait any more, his blood was calling for you and you were desperate to answer, so you did the only reasonable thing there was to do: you put your hands behind his neck, tightening your grip on his hair and you opened your mouth, saliva escaping it and falling onto his skin, fangs ready and craving to pierce flesh. So, you bit.
Sylus let out a gasp and his hands tightened around you, but then you felt something prickling your waist. Claws?
However, you were too preoccupied with the blood filling your mouth to perceive his form shifting. It tasted as good as you imagined, if not better. The metallic taste dulled out by the flavours you were savouring; his blood was sweet and then sour, it was hot and then cold, a myriad of facets that resembled the man under you. Unpredictable but yet so familiar.
Many sensations traversed your body as you drank, but they came to a halt when the man took your hair and pulled you away, making you face him.
You were a mess, eyes clouded by desire, blood spilling from your plump lips and your tongue hastily licking it, not wanting to waste a single drop.
But then you focused on Sylus and oh my if he wasn’t even more beautiful in this state than he has ever been before.
His whole body changed, no longer completely human, and you instantly recognised his species, “You’re a fiend,” you stated breathily. If your pupils could become heart shaped, they surely would’ve by now. “So that’s why I felt like a prey,” you thought, “I was a prey.”
His eyes were glowing red, long black horns had sprouted from his head and his hands were clawed, you could feel them on your waist and in your hair; his shirt was torn to shreds, the result of his body changing. He discarded the remnants with a swift movement and said, “Took you long enough to notice,” his voice was deeper but the neediness was still lingering there.
He licked his lips, “You don’t know how much I had to restrain myself from transforming earlier, kitten.” He got closer to you and licked your face, tasting his own blood, “Had I known sooner you were a vampire, things would’ve been easier,” he said, “Now I can fully taste your desire without being judged, since you’ve already helped yourself,” he smirked.
“S– sorry,” you breathed out, now wetter than before because your movements never really ceased, “It’s just that… I needed to eat, and your scent was so delicious I couldn’t stop myself.”
You’ve never felt this way. You were craving Sylus’ blood and body in ways you never knew were possible in all your centuries of life.
He let go of your hair, giving your scalp some relief. Then his hand travelled down, down, down… reaching under your gown and touching your clothed core.
“You’re so wet for me, kitten,” he said as he got closer to your ear, “No need to say sorry, in fact I quite enjoyed it.” He started to slowly stoke your pussy, and you had to steady yourself by laying your head on his shoulder, letting out breathy moans and hugging his neck.
“You can eat some more baby, I won’t wither,” said Sylus. His hand’s movements against your core and the sweet scent coming from his wound led you to latch on it again, savouring that sweet ambrosia, worthy to be the meal of a goddess.
Under you, you could sense Sylus’ dick getting bigger just like your growing desire, but you could feel something else there…
You stopped your feeding, licking your lips clean from blood, and moved your hand down to touch his bulge, whispering, “Is that what I think it is?”
He exhaled loudly in response to your touches, “Yes, my dear, I’ve got two,” the fiend smirked,
“Would you like to see them?”
High on his blood, you let out a moan just at the thought. One was good, but two? How much could they fill you? Would it even be possible?
“Please show me” you breathed out and moved yourself away to leave him space to take off his belt and what remained of his pants. You couldn’t look away, anticipation evident in your features.
“Would you like to help me?” he said, taking your hand and guiding it to his tight underwear. You could feel the two dicks twitching under your touch and decided to stroke them a bit. Even in this state, you still wanted to tease him.
“Damn, kitten, you know how to rile a fiend up,” breathed out Sylus, who started to buck his hips at your hand’s movements, “Touch me more.”
 “You sure are a needy creature, aren’t you?” you smirked, and then decided to dip your hand in his underwear, feeling his cocks for the first time. They were girthy and had… ridges?
One was surely smaller than the other, so it would’ve been easier to fit inside your pussy which, you noticed, was now throbbing, aroused by everything you were seeing, smelling, touching, feeling.
You pulled his briefs lower and finally saw the two members in all their glory: they were one on top of the other, their base was pitch black and had red veins that reached the heads, which were red too. The longer bottom one was girthy and had ridges all over it, meanwhile the smaller top one was smoother and slimy. They were both already leaking precum, and you ached to taste it.
Maybe another time.
Because you were sure there would’ve been another time.
You started to touch the bigger one, beginning from the head and spreading precum all over its length, repeating the process a few times just to tease him. His breath was accelerated, and you felt his cock pulsating in your hands; in the meantime, he was gripping the sheets to restrain himself from touching you. What a pity you had other plans for him.
You stopped your ministrations and you heard him whine, then you helped him remove his underwear. You straddled him, positioning your wet clothed cunt over his cocks, and started to grind on him again.
“You know that we have yet to kiss?” you whispered, “I’ve tasted your blood, touched your cocks, but I have yet to feel your lips on mine.”
You didn’t have to repeat yourself because he hurriedly moved you closer, but he limited himself to just brush your lips with his.
“Do you know what fiends eat?” said Sylus, voice just above a whisper.
“Desire,” you replied and tried to kiss him, but he put a finger between your lips.
“And do you know how we feed?”
“No” you replied, “Is it important to know now? I think we’re pretty…” you ground a little harder on his cocks and his breath hitched, “Occupied. Maybe you can show me instead?” you tried kissing him again, but he stopped you.
“No, I need you to listen to me,” he pressed his forehead to yours and closed his eyes, “Restraining myself is becoming more difficult by the second; you’re so tempting kitten, I can taste your desire in the air.”
“Alright, tell me everything baby,” you replied, foreheads still close together. You then let your hand travel between you two, sliding it across his chest, stomach and then, finally, you reached his cocks and started to give them languid stokes, coaxing him to full hardness. No one was prohibiting you from doing this after all.
Sylus’ speech became breathy, finding it difficult to form full coherent sentences, “Kitten, I need you to know that I feed from every fluid your body releases,” he had to stop and bite his lips, trying to muffle a moan, “sweat, tears, blood, your sweet juices,” he continued as he took your hands and put them on his shoulder, then, he gripped your waist and started to move you over him. You could feel your pussy throbbing in anticipation as you heard his words.
“Kitten,” a moan, “I need you to explicitly say you want me to feed from you,” with one hand he gripped your ass from under your gown and squeezed it hard.
“Then ask me properly my dear,” you said, ever the teaser. It was exhilarating seeing Sylus, the big bad fiend, so desperate for you as you were for him. Now, though, your teasing was getting to you too; your folds were scorching hot, aching to be touched, and your sweet, sweet nectar was gushing out of you in copious amounts. What a pity your lingerie was ruined, it was your favourite pair.
Sylus let out a moan, his grip on your ass so strong you were sure it would leave bruises, “Kitten, let me eat you,” a pause, “I need you.” He opened his eyes, looking into yours, “Can I? Please?” he whined, and that made it for you.
How could you resist such a desperate request?
“Yes Sylus, consume me whole.”
As if hit by a magic spell, he used both his hands to pull you closer into a bruising kiss. One that screamed neediness, with clinking teeth and biting of lips. He then pushed his tongue inside your mouth, finally tasting your saliva, full of your desire.
He let out a moan that you didn’t hesitate to eat up, putting your hands in his long hair and pulling; you felt lightheaded, the arousal so uncontainable that you were starting to feel dizzy, your vision cloudy.
You pulled away from the kiss and he chased your lips, desperate to keep you connected, “Sylus, please, eat me out,” you finally voiced your thoughts in between kisses, “I want to feel your tongue inside me.”
You didn’t have to repeat yourself; he manhandled you into switching positions, now he was the one on top, “Take off your clothes,” he said, “everything.”
His gaze never ceased to admire your body as you did what he told you as quickly as possible, leaving on only your soaked panties for him to savour.
“You’re gorgeous,” Sylus said, mesmerised by your beauty. He opened your legs and put himself in the middle, kissing your neck.
He licked a fat stripe of skin and arrived at your breasts, palming one and kissing the other; your nipples were hardening under his touch, and you pushed your chest against him, seeking more. He put a nipple in his mouth and started to suck it, stopping to nibble and then resuming to lick as he played with the other, tugging and pinching it.
Your moans reverberated through the room, you didn’t know what to do: you were torn between bucking your hips, seeking some sort of friction to ease your aching core, and pushing your chest against his mouth.
Sylus made the decision for you, continuing to go down, kissing his way to your wet pussy. He put your legs over his shoulders and closed his eyes, sliding his nose over your clothed folds, smelling your delicious scent.
Your delicious desire.
“Sylus, please,” you whined, tired of all the teasing. You loved the slow game you two had going on, but now your arousal was so strong you couldn’t think straight, your only thought being filled by him. Tongue, fingers, cocks, anything you could take.
Without replying he licked you over the panties, tasting the juices that wet them, and you let out a moan and bucked your hips, sensing his smirk on your pussy.
“Now who’s the needy one?” said Sylus in a mocking tone, and he moved aside your lingerie, not bothering to take it off.
Finally, finally, he licked you, starting from your hole and arriving at your clit. The aching nub soon found some release as Sylus started to lick and suck it, caressing your folds underneath with his fingers. You were feeling overwhelmed, a lot of sensations going through your body.
You let your hands travel to his hair, trying to tug him away and then push his face against your cunt, unsure of what to do, of what to feel. His tongue was licking up all your sweet ambrosia, playing with your smaller labia and gently sucking on them. He put his hands on the back of your thighs and squeezed, then he lifted you up a bit, circling his tongue around your entrance.
You ached for him to enter you, to savour you from the inside and drink the nectar directly from the source. You were never this desperate during sex, but something about Sylus let all your inhibitions come loose, allowing you to feel everything that you were meant to be feeling. Desire, desperation, love.
Without a warning he entered you with his tongue, and you let out a moan so loud you’d be afraid of waking the neighbours up, if there were any.
He started to tongue fuck you, going in and out, in and out, in and out. The slow drag of his tongue inside your walls was making you impatient so you tried to hurry him by bucking up your hips and pushing his face onto your pussy.
Sylus let out a low growl and pinned your hips to the mattress, keeping you from moving more. He sped up his pace, though, and slurped your cunt like he was starving and you were the only meal he’s had in centuries.
And maybe you were.
The best meal he’s ever had.
While he was still fucking his tongue inside you, with one hand he started to stroke your clit, circling it, tugging it, playing with it. You felt your insides throbbing around his tongue, a telltale of you approaching orgasm.
You were oh so ready to tumble down that precipice, to ride his face and come, but he had other plans. When he sensed your state, he pulled his tongue out and moved away, not without giving your pussy a last stroke with his tongue, though.
You whined at the loss, feeling emptier than ever, “Sylus please,” you whined, “Why did you stop?”
Looking at his face, mouth glistening with your essence and eyes glowing red, you thought you kind of knew the answer.
He looked down and saw you still had your panties on, so he ripped them from your form, throwing them in an unknown part of the bedroom, almost angry at the piece of fabric for covering his sweet prize.
Now satisfied, he opened your legs and put them around his waist, preparing himself to enter you, “I can’t resist anymore kitten,” he breathed out, “I need to feel you around my cock,” he said, and then took your wrists in one hand, positioning them above your head.
You nodded eagerly, “Please Sylus, fuck me,” and just like that he started to push his hard length inside you, positioning his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.
You could feel the thickness spreading you open deliciously, the ridges caressing every sensitive part of your insides. You tightened the grip of your thighs on his waist and started to let out moan after moan, the stretch morphing pain into pure bliss.
As he bottomed out, he kissed your neck and then bit down, savouring your desire directly from your blood. You gasped at this, and he started to move, slowly at first but then picking up the pace, still sucking your neck.
The delicious drag of his cock in your walls made you clench around him, as if you were trying to keep him inside, not wanting this feeling of fullness to cease. His dick was really big, but nothing you couldn’t handle, if anything you wanted more, you wanted all of him inside you.
His thrusts were becoming faster, almost shifting you up and down the bed, and his smaller cock slid over your clit with every movement, adding to the pleasure he was giving you.
All these sensations, along with his feeding, made you feel lightheaded, as if he was sucking your very life force, leaving you a quivering mess in his hands.
“Sylus,” you said in a whisper, “you’re consuming me.”
You felt like it was the end. You let this creature feed from you and now it was backfiring, but the thing you were most surprised about was that you didn’t even mind it. Dying like this, in Sylus’ embrace.
He was holding you like you were something to be cherished. To be worshipped. Like you were the most valuable treasure in a fiend’s hoard, and he was taking his time enjoying it. Enjoying you. He stopped his feeding but didn’t move away from your neck, licking the wound he made.
He never stopped thrusting, though. He just slowed down, as if he wanted to listen to you but wasn’t able to fully bring himself to a halt, and you strangely found pride in that. You managed to make a fiend desperate for you.
For your desire.
For your blood
For your flesh.
For you.
Maybe you, too, were a sick and twisted creature like him.
“I feel like,” you let out a gasp, interrupting your speech. He started to caress your sides with the hand not holding your wrists to coax you into talking, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself, “I feel like I’m dying.”
“Oh kitten,” he said, raising his head from your neck. He wiped his mouth and then caressed your face, dirtying it with blood, “you know that, in French, another name for an orgasm is ‘la petite mort’?”
You were a little confused at this, but you were too aroused, your vision too hazy and your mind too cloudy to do anything but shaking your head “no”.
“Do you know what it means?”
You shook your head again.
“It means ‘the little death’.” He licked the blood off your face, steading it with a hand under your chin. “So, let’s die in each other’s arms tonight, my lady” he whispered, and you closed your eyes in bliss as he kissed you. You tasted your blood mixed with his saliva on his tongue and let out a moan. Your flavours mixing together were the most delicious meal you’ve ever had.
He resumed his thrusting, but now it felt more calculated, like he was searching for something–
“Ah!” you moaned out as soon as Sylus hit a precise spot inside you, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, “Do that again.”
“Do what exactly?” he smirked and hit that spot again. And again. And again.
You were a moaning mess, tears starting to spill from your eyes as he fucked you, smudging your make-up.
But this didn’t feel quite enough. You needed more.
“Sylus, please, give me more,” you said, throwing your head back at the pleasure you were feeling.
“Kitten, are you sure?” asked Sylus, face flushed and sweaty, “I’d love to fill you up, but I don’t want to overwhelm you” he whispered, his grip on your wrists never wavering.
“Just do it baby, I need it– ah!” you moaned as he hit that delicious spot inside you. You were already a mess, but the craving for his second cock was too strong to be ignored.
“As my lady commands,” and he pulled out completely.
You whined at the loss, the feeling of emptiness making you clench around nothing.
Sylus let got of your wrists and with one of his hands gripped your waist as the other was wrapped around his dicks, guiding them to your needy hole that was waiting to be filled.
“Hold onto me kitten,” he said, and you wrapped your hands around his neck, preparing yourself for the stretch that was coming.
He slowly entered you with both of his cocks, the smaller one was so wet and slimy that it made the penetration easier. You were gasping and panting in his ear and you knew that this made it difficult for Sylus to stay focused and not bottom out in one go.
In the end, he was just a fiend weak only for two things: desire and you.
“My dear you’re so tight around me,” he breathed out, voice raspy and strained, “I want to fill you up with my seed, see you full of everything I can give you.” You found yourself nodding at his words, desperation clinging into the very fabric of your being.
When he bottomed out you both released a really loud moan; at this point it became impossible to form any coherent thought, the only thing that mattered was that you were full and you needed him to “Move,” you demanded, not even fully knowing you said that. As he did so, you felt his hand press into your stomach and he gasped aloud, “Kitten, look at yourself.”
You looked down and oh my, his cocks were forming a bulge into your stomach. They were reaching impossibly deep inside you, caressing every part you weren’t even aware existed. You observed the movement of his dicks, the constant in and out fully visible and driving you crazy. Your body responded at the sight, copious amounts of slick gushing out of you and sliding onto the mattress.
“Kitten, I don’t think I’ll last long,” he said. His chest heaved with every breath, his thrusts becoming erratic and less calculated than before; his orgasm was approaching and yours was too.
The ridges of his bigger cock massaged your walls as the smaller one filled you with pre-cum and a slimy substance that acted as lubricant; you couldn’t do anything but throw your head back and moan, clenching in time with his thrusts as you were nearing the edge, pleasure consuming you like a fire.
Seeing you in this state, he took a hand to your clit and started to caress it, trying to make you come for him with him.
One hard and precise thrust, combined with his hand on your aching nub, made you topple, your orgasm hitting you like a train as you moaned a string of “Sylus, Sylus, Sylus!”, your insides milking his cocks as he continued to move, searching his own release all flushed and needy, craving that sweet, sweet sensation.
“Please my dear,” you said crying, tears of overstimulation filling your eyes and streaming down your face, “Fill me up,” you finally shouted.
You heard him curse and felt something catch in your hole, trying to enter, “What is–”
“It’s my knot,” he hurriedly replied, “Please kitten let me knot you,” he pleaded, kissing and licking your neck, “Please please please–”
You eagerly nodded and just like that, as if he was restraining himself and was waiting for your command, you felt hot liquid paint your insides, filling you so deliciously you were about to pass out. One last thrust made his knot enter you, locking you together.
He almost collapsed onto you but was quick enough to embrace your spent form and swap your positions, making you lay on top of him, head on his sweaty chest. Sylus’ heart was beating so fast you feared it was going to burst out, his breath still laboured but less than before.
You both laid there in silence, trying to recover from your orgasms. Tender caresses were shared, kisses were given and fucked-out smiles were hidden.
After he came down from his high, he took your chin and made you look at him, making sure not to move you too much since you were still locked by his knot.
“You know, now that I’ve had a taste,” he kissed your nose, “I don’t think can live without you.”
He caressed your face tenderly, touch as light as a feather. As he observed your features, his crimson eyes were filled with something so close to love that you couldn’t find any other word to describe it.
It made you feel warm.
It made you feel so, so happy knowing that someone in this godforsaken world cared for you.
“No baby,” you said, tracing his lips with your index, basking in the coziness of the moment, “It is me that can’t live without you.” You shared a chaste kiss with him, one that meant “I’m here to cherish you”.
Sylus at first smiled tenderly, a soft gesture that seemed so unusual in his fiendish features. Then he smirked and moved a hand down, gripping your buttock, “Is that so?”
You smiled amused and kissed him again, “I can sense you have something in your mind.”
“I was about to ask you if this feat was enough,” he said as he playfully slapped your asscheek, making you gasp.
“Enough for what?” you asked, confused.
“For me to be worthy of knowing your name.”
You let out a laugh, a genuine one. You almost forgot that he still didn’t know your name.
It was so strange.
Knowing next to nothing of a person yet feeling so strongly about them. People could call this love at first sight, but you both knew it was more than that. What you two shared was an unbreakable bond, one ebbed into every fibre of your bodies, one written in your souls, forever entwined with each other. It was built on desire and need and everything present in this universe.
It was nothing and it was everything at the same time.
You looked softly in his eyes and caressed his chest, then said, “You are right Mister Sylus, my name is–”
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── ❦・⸝⸝ author's note: surprise!! sylus was a fiend and was hunting her too, what a delicious turn of events. obv now that makes sense why I explained how people turn vampires, since mc feeds from sylus and he doesn’t turn or has any reaction.
i really hope you liked it, this fic is literally my magnum opus and i’m so fond of it, so kudos and comments are very appreciated ♡
p.s.: you can find me on twitter @/tenderbeck where i post lads related stuff!! love you all
── ❦・⸝⸝ click to find my masterlist
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cinnamoonblue · 1 month ago
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Chapter X | Daddy* Issues
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Summary: You moved to one of the biggest cities in the world - Grand Line to pursue filmmaking career. Soon enough your path will cross with the vocalist of upcoming band called “The Neighbourhood”. At first you decided to be just friends - because it would be easier, but sadly as everything in life sometimes by taking the easy path we regret a lot of things.
Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female)
Supporting characters: Nami, Usopp, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Deuce, Shanks, Buggy, Sabo, Eustass Kid, Koala, Robin, Dave (OC)
Description: Modern AU | Musician Ace
WARNINGS: ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP this story will contain descriptions of violence, 18+ only, contains explicit sexual themes and content, explicit language, use of alcohol, use of cannabis, use of nicotine/cigarettes, angst, hurt/no comfort, hurt/comfort, implied injury, family trauma, slow burn, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, NSFW, conflicted feelings, loneliness, pain, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, jealousy, suggestive themes, violence, substance use, mentions of death, mentions of suicide, mentions of depression, mentions of loosing a loved one, mentions of violence, PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNINGS
Word Count: 14,3K
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NOTE: Please, pay attention that this chapter contains mentions of overdosing and relapsing! This chapter was suppose to be double the length, but I decided that it is for the best to post it like this. I expect that a lot of you might drop the story after this chapter, because Reader is about to do/say something that will definitely come out as very offensive to many, especially if you haven't been or had bad relationship with a parent of yours. It's okay to judge her, but I also hope you understand where those words/actions come from. I hope you will forgive me and not hate me much. Thank you for your patience and support ♡ Ily ♡ Enjoy ♡
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Sitting in the front of Usopp’s car I sighed exhausted. The week of shooting rolled fast, and it was so nice to be back in the city. Nami, Usopp and I were on our way to university to return all the equipment we had used for the movie. We were all tired from the long week we had, but at the end it was worth it as the filming went super smoothly and the scenes turned out beautiful.
“You, guys don’t understand how much this is bugging me.” Nami whined as she had for a thousandth of time this week brought up the fact that someone has anonymously donated one thousand dollars to us and helped reach our goal for the donations. “It must be some of Sanji’s rich friends at the party, I’m telling you.” She pointed with her finger at Usopp and me from the backseat of Usopp’s car.
“Does it really matter?” I looked at her with a tired smile. “At the end we reached the goal.”
“We actually went over it.” Usopp pointed out and I hummed agreeing with him.
“Come on.” Nami exclaimed annoyed with us. “You can’t be serious and not be curious who might have sent us the money.”
“We are, juts not as much as you are.” I turned a bit to the side to face her better as I stuck my tongue out to annoy her.
“God forbit a girl gets curious.” She rolled her eyes at me, laughing as she pushed my head away with one hand. “Anyway, wanna grab something to eat after we leave the equipment?” Propping her elbows on the back of the front seats she leaned closer to Usopp and I.
“Hell yeah.” Usopp and I said at the same time.
I have missed this. In the past two, almost three months now, I was avoiding Nami and Usopp as much as I could and after this week spent with them, when we were constantly together during filming and the free time in between shoots, as we used to be before, the realization of how much I had missed them hit me like a truck.
I have known them for less than a year, but they both have become so close and special to me to a point where I didn’t realize it until now.
“We must treat ourselves with a very nice dinner, don’t you think guys?” I looked at both of them with a big smile spread across my face.
“Finally, we speak the same language.” Nami squeaked excitedly.
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It took us around an hour to return all the equipment, and in the middle of it, all of our energy went out of the window, so instead of going to a restaurant we went to Nami’s place and order take away food.
Usopp was first to leave her place, as he couldn’t wait any longer to see Kaya. He offered to drive me home, but I turned down the offer as I decided to stay a bit longer with Nami.
We said goodbye to Usopp and Nami went to lock the door after him. Coming back, she clapped her hands as she sat down on the sofa next to me and cleared her throat. “So, it’s finally just the two of us.” Straightening her posture, she gave me a small smile like she expected something from me.
“Why you say it like we didn’t share a room for a whole week?” I looked at her with one brow slightly raised. During the whole production we shared a bedroom in the summer house of one of our classmates, where we all stayed, so I was slightly confused by her comment.
“Yes, but there I couldn’t speak with you.” She pointed out while taking a sip of her soft drink.
“Nami, what do you mean you couldn’t talk to me?” I was getting really confused. She and I spoke every night, day, and every free second we had on set, what was she on about? “We spoke nonstop.”
“Yes, but not about what I really want to speak with you about.” She gave me a knowing look and slowly I started to connect the dots. “Sanji’s party? You being distant since Christmas break? Should I continue or mention names… name?” She emphasized on ‘name’ like I didn’t catch what she meant by it.
Placing the plate on the coffee table from my lap, I took a deep breath before speaking. I knew this conversation was coming, but I was hoping that she would give me a bit more time. She would also not let me get away from it, so I didn’t have much of a choice, but to get it over with.
Taking her hands in mine I looked at her eyes before I spoke up. “I am so sorry Nami. I know that I had been a bad friend in the past few months, but I was going through something…” Taking another deep breath in I needed a moment before I could continue. “Maybe I’m still going through it and I… I just pushed everyone away. For which I’m sorry.”
“I appreciate the apology, but why? What happened?”
It was very hard to keep eye contact with her right now, so I looked away. What was I supposed to say; - “Yes, Nami. You were right about Ace.”
“You know I won’t tell anyone.” She moved closer to me. “Something happened with Ace, didn’t it?” Her voice is gentle, comforting even and as much as I wanted to tell her what had been going on for the past few months, I didn’t know where to start; all I could do was just nod with my head. “From the scale of one to ten how bad are things between you two right now?”
A small sarcastic laughter escaped my lips. “Eleven. Maybe even twelve.” As much as I tried to hide the pain that still lingered in my heart, my eyes betrayed me. It was like my own body betrayed me every time his name was mentioned.
Nami’s eyes widened a bit, not expecting to hear that things were this bad. “I don’t want to push you into talking if you don’t want to, but I’m here to listen without judging.” She pulled me for a hug. When Nami wrapped her arms around me I laid my head on her shoulder and thanked her.
“It’s kind of a long story you know…” I whispered as I pulled away from her.
With a shrug and wink Nami replied to me, “I have time.”
I told her everything with every single detail - from the ‘not official date’, till the last time I saw him at Sanji’s party. The whole time Nami was listening, gasping from time to time, making small comments like ‘No way.’ , ‘You’re kidding.’ , ‘This asshole.’ ect.
“And lastly, at the party he wanted me to give him a chance to start things all over again or whatever.” I rolled my eyes remembering the moment when Ace locked me in a room with him. “By the way this whole thing with Kid there was to get a reaction out of Ace or whatever.” This was something I wanted to clarify before she asked about it. “And it was his idea.”  
“It did work.” Nami chuckled. Raising one of my brows I tilted my head to the side, questioning her what she meant by this. “You did get a reaction from him. I saw how Ace was looking at you the whole time while you were ignoring him. I think he got jealous.” I haven’t put much thought into this, mostly because one day after the party we went away to film and my mind was occupied with other things which led me not to allow myself to think much of what Ace had said to me.
“But what did he mean by start all over again?” Nami’s voice changed from understanding one to aggravated by all she had heard so far. “Like what? Friends? Lovers? What exactly?” I couldn’t respond to this question as well as I hadn’t allowed myself to dig much into it or at all.
“I don’t know Nami.” Looking down at my hands and playing nervously with my fingers I took a deep breath. “I haven’t put many thoughts into it, nor did I ask him.”
“Good.” She was quick to say. “I can’t believe it. I’ve always known that he is not serious when it comes to girls, but after all you’ve told me…” Looking at me with big disappointment in her eyes, Nami shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll want to see Ace ever again.”
“You know what hurt me the most?” I quietly said. “He never said sorry.” Biting on my lower lip, I could feel my eyes watering. “He just came and asked for a fresh start without even apologize for the damage he has done.”
“Please, don’t cry.” Nami grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me closer to her in a hug. “This asshole doesn’t deserve more tears from you.”
“It just… it still hurts…” Saying this out loud made it even more painful. I have never been stuck on someone for so long, why was it so hard to move on from him? What was it that made him so special?
“Do you still have feelings for him?” Nami’s voice was quiet, it came out almost as a whisper.
I stayed in her arms without moving. This was another question I have avoided asking myself. Did I still have feelings for Ace? Probably. Did I want to dig deeper into myself to find the proper answer? No.
“I don’t know.” I answered, pulling away from her. Looking behind Nami to avoid her gaze, I noticed the time on the clock hanging on the wall. “Gosh, look at the time. I must go home.” Getting up from the sofa in a hurry, Nami got the hint and followed after me.
“You can stay over if you want.” Her suggestion sounded very nice, but I needed some alone time, especially right now.
“Thank you, Nami but I’m missing my own bed a bit too much.” I raised my head and smiled at her while I was putting my shoes on. Getting up on my feet and unlocking the door I looked back at her. “Are you going to edit with me and Usopp this week?”
“Probably.” She said, as she opened the door. “Please, text me when you get home.”
“I will.” Taking a step closer to her, I hugged her once again. “Thank you, Nami. I haven’t realized how much I needed a girl talk until tonight.”
“Oh, please, you know I love gossip.” She joked as she patted me on the back. “Now go. You don’t want to miss the metro.”
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Going back to the neighborhood where he grew up was never easy for Ace. He left this part of town eight years ago when he was eighteen and since then if his aunt didn’t really need help with something he would not come back. Not because he felt ashamed of where he grew up, but because he wasn’t very wanted there. This area of town he couldn’t escape his birth name and the blood running through his veins. Here no matter what he was known as Gol D Ace, no matter how many times he corrected people no one bothered to listen to him, all they saw in his face was a famous criminal’s bastard.
Taking his helmet off, he deeply inhaled and exhaled before getting off his motorbike. He hasn’t seen or talked with his aunt in months. Their relationship was very rocky since Ace went and almost beat the life out of Teach. Not like the relationship between them before this event was good, but after that night things went completely downhill, and that was why Ace was here today. He needed answers to a lot of questions, which only his aunt could give him.
Stepping into the familiar old porch Ace knocked on the front door. He waited for a moment before the door opened and his aunt stood in front of him confused.
“Ace? What are you doing here?” Dadan couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. It has been at least eight months since the last time she had seen her nephew.
“Came to visit.” Ace replied, pointing with his eyes towards the hallway, asking for permission to enter the house.
“Come on in, boy.” Dadan moved to the side and let Ace in. “No, need to take your shoes of, I’m in the middle of deep cleaning anyway.”
Both made their way to the kitchen, the place still the same, nothing has changed since… forever. The old wooden kitchen cabinets were in desperate need of change, the sunlight streamed through a small window above the sink, casting a soft glow on the well-worn surfaces. The fridge being at least thirty years old, now with surprisingly a lot of pictures and magnets hung on it, something Ace didn’t remember being a thing in this household as he grew up here. The only thing that was new was the stove.
The kitchen, though old and in need of repair, remained the heart of the house Ace once used to call home, not sure if it did feel like one, but it was a place where memories were made and shared.
In the middle of the kitchen was the dining table. Pulling one of the chairs, Ace sat down and waited for his aunt to join him. “I see you finally bought a new stove.” He was the first one to break the silence.
“Yea, it was time to say goodbye to the old one.” Lifting the coffee pot in one hand she asked with a gesture if he wanted some, to which he nodded. Pouring two cups with coffee, the mid-fifties years old woman brought them to the table and sat down opposite her nephew. “I must thank you for it.”
Since the band had taken off so fast and things were going financially great for the guys, Ace started sending Dadan money every month. He was aware that she was still struggling with bills so sending her a few hundred per month didn’t hurt his pockets at all.
“Don’t need to.” He told her, taking a sip of the coffee. The taste of it was very bitter, too bitter even for his preferences, but he didn’t say anything, he just put the cup down and cleared his throat.
Taking a good look at his aunt, he could see that she was starting to age more visibly now. After all she was pushing to be sixty in a few years, and she was never the type of woman to take much care of her appearance. Her hair was curly and untamed as aways, now with some silver lining locks on it. Her face has a bit more wrinkles than before, but other than this she was the same. Oversized shirt and her favorite dark olive pants. These pants were such a trademark on her, till this day Ace wondered how she managed to find the exact same color and how did people still produce them or she just both a hundred pairs one day twenty years ago and since then she stuck with them.
“So, how’s life?” Small talks were always uncomfortable for him. He knew why he was here, but he wasn’t sure how to ask, how to start or formed his questions aloud.
“My life?” Dadan responded with a sarcastic laugh. “Same old, brat. Same old.” She shook her head. Her life has been the same since she could remember, which made her sad. Life wasn’t the fairest towards her, but this was something she never complained about, nor that she could if she wanted to. “I should be asking you this. You’re a big star now.” She reached over the table and patted Ace’s shoulder.
Awkward laughter escaped past Ace’s lips. Was he a star? Maybe…? Was he a big star? Definitely not.
“I wouldn’t call myself big.” Ace said, propping one elbow on the table and massaging his temple with his fingers.
Clicking with her tongue, Dadan hummed. “Don’t get modest now. You’re a big thing. I hear you on the radio at least once a day. Yesterday in the supermarket they played one of your songs while I was at the check-out.” Dadan smirked as she took another sip of her coffee. “You should have seen the face of the cashier girl when I told her my nephew and kid are you and Sabo.”
Ace couldn’t contain to withhold the bitter laughter that left his lips. He had always been the nephew, Sabo and Luffy were her kids. Dadan never referred to him as her kid or son, even though she raised him since day one and he did in fact share the same blood with her.
Dadan gave him a strange look, wondering what Ace was laughing about. “What’s funny, brat?”  
Poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, Ace snorted as he needed a second. Looking down at the floor he slowly shook his head as he ran one hand over his face. He came here with a lot of questions, and he planned to have answers for them, whenever he liked what he would hear or not.
“Don’t you wonder why I came here unannounced?” Straightening his posture, he finally looked his aunt in the eyes.
Dadan observed his face carefully. She would be lying if she said that her heart didn’t break from time to time for her nephew. This kid grew up with so much sorrow and anger in his heart. There was always this mixture of lust for life and sadness deep coded in his eyes. Part of her had wondered if he had ever felt happiness, real happiness in his life? She also knew that a big part of this sorrow came from her and the way she raised him, but what could she have done better?
“I do, Ace. You barely call or come to visit.” She didn’t dare to move her eyes as she was focused on guessing what was going on in his mind. Why did he look so tired, so miserable. “You do send me money, but… that’s all.” And this hurt her.
No matter how much trouble Ace had caused her in the past she did miss him. She wouldn’t say it aloud, but she did. And right now, she could see that something was clearly bothering him.
“Are there any problems with the band?” Ace just shook his head and mouthed ‘no’.  “Is everything okay with Sabo and Luffy?” She only got a nod for a response. “Then what is it, brat? I’m not going to play guess with you.” Her tone became a bit harsh. Dadan was never a woman with a patience. With the way Ace was acting right now, her patience was running tin.
Hitting the table with his hand Ace couldn’t take it anymore. “Has it ever crossed your mind that I might not be okay?” The woman in front of him got a bit taken aback from his outburst. “Why is it away – how are Sabo and Luffy, but never how is Ace?”
For the first time ever, Dadan could not only see the sadness in her nephew’s eyes but hear the pain in his voice. What has happened to cause this?
Ace on the other hand was breaking from the inside. He was feeling at the edge of his being. After the last time he had seen (Y/N) at Sanij’s party, and how much he had hurt her, he wanted nothing else but to end it all. The pain in her eyes made him feel literal physical pain and he couldn’t believe that he had caused it. The only person who had brought a bit of peace of mind and happiness into his life, he had hurt so cruelly that he knew it was beyond repair. She would never forgive nor want to have anything with him ever again – and he deserved it.
That was why Ace was here today. He wanted to know – was he bad because of who he was a person or because of the blood that ran through his veins? Maybe Ace was a bad person after all, but he needed to know if it was all on him, or he could have a little peace with himself that and blame his father for the way he was. Did blood have anything to do with how we turn out as people or was it all based on another factors? Could we blame someone on how we turned as adults – good or bad, or the only person we could blame was no other but ourselves?
“You know, no need to answer this.” Ace waved his hand in front of his face to brush off the question he just asked. The answer was always obvious he didn’t need an answer to know it. “I didn’t come here for this question in particular, I came because…” Shutting his eyes and biting on his lower lip, he took a deep breath before he could say the name of his so-called father aloud. “I want to know about Roger.”
Dadan couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Ace had never asked about his father; about his mother – yes, but father – never.
“What do you want to know about him?” She asked, carefully observing Ace.
Pushing the chair a bit, Ace propped his elbows on his knees and buried his head in the palms of his hands as he slowly started to rub his head. He was having so many headaches recently and they were killing him. “Everything you know, with details.”
Dadan needed a minute or even more. What did she know about Roger? To be honest she didn’t know much. All she knew was mostly what people were talking about him – a criminal, a bad person. That was all she knew or at least wanted to believe.  
With a heavy heart Dadan got up from the chair without saying anything, leaving Ace in the kitchen alone. She made her way to her bedroom. Going to her old chest of drawers, she opened the last one. There in an old box she kept something away from Ace since he was born, and now she started to realize that maybe she should have given it to him way earlier in his life. She wasn’t even sure why she hadn’t given it to him already, but she thought that he never cared to begin with about his parents or how they lived their lives.
Opening the old box there was a pink covered diary with black laced flowers around it and a little quote – ‘Do everything in love’. It used to belong to her sister Rouge. There she had written so much about her life and mostly her relationship with Roger. There might be all the answers Ace was looking for.
Going back into the kitchen, her nephew was still there. He sat on the chair with his back hunched over the table, lost in his own thoughts. Placing the diary in front of him on the table, he gave her a questioning look. Walking to her chair, she sat back down and pointed at it.
“This is your mother’s. All the questions or answers you’re looking for about your father must be there.”
“Have you read it?” Ace reached to take the dairy. It wasn’t very big, clearly very old, but it was quite used. His mom must have written a lot in it.
Avoiding looking at him, partly ashamed, Dadan nodded. “Yes… yes, I have.”
Opening the diary Ace slowly started to read through it. Most pages were with dates. His mother had a lot of hobbies, some quite strange from what he was reading. Most of the pages had stickers or pictures attached to them. His mother was a very interesting person. Page after page he finally reached the one where his father’s name was mentioned for the first time ever.
01.01.1997
The New Year’s Eve party I went to last night was amazing. I danced and sang all night. It was one of the best parties I’ve ever been to. It was with a lot of new people I’ve never met before, but it was so much fun.
I also met a very interesting man there. At first, he was loud and annoying, and I couldn’t stand him. He didn’t stop bothering me the whole night and demanding a dance with me. Finally, I gave up and I agreed to have one dance with him if he would leave me alone after and he agreed.
At first, I liked nothing about this man. He was obviously a bit older than me, but it wasn’t this that bothered me. But it all changed with one stupid joke and his jokes were awful (note to myself if I ever have a son – make sure to tell him to pick good jokes).
But this joke made me laugh like I’ve never had before, and it was like a light switch. Something changed like in a movie. It was like I got under a spell or something, because now I can’t stop thinking about this man. I can’t stop thinking about Roger.
06.01.1997
I thought that I would never see him again, but I was wrong. Today when I was at work someone walked into the flower shop and asked for me, saying that he was being told I work there. I was in the back when I heard my name being called. It was him. It was Roger.
He asked one of my friends where I work, and they told him, and he came to see me. He also invited me on a date. We are going out this Wednesday. Where? I don’t know, he said that it was a surprise.  
I feel a bit weird about how excited I feel about this date. I’ve never felt like this before. Should I be afraid?
23.03.1997
Things with Roger are going great. I’ve never been more in love with someone as much as with him. I’m not just in love with him… I feel like I love him, but I’m a bit afraid to tell him. We have been together for two months. What if I scare him away?
But there is something else… he is hiding something from me. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it. Sometimes he acts weird, and he is quite rich for a man who claims to own just a pizzeria. I think he is doing something illegal, but I’m not a hundred percent sure. I must ask him.
14.04.1997
I was right and I don’t know how to feel about it. Roger confessed to me what he was up to. But he also confessed that he loved me.
I need time. I do love him as well. I do… a lot… but, I’m not sure if I can look past the fact that he is a up to a lot of illegal activities. This steps over my boundaries for what is moral and what not.
That is why I asked him for a bit of a time apart. I love him, but I hate the way he makes money for living. How can such a carrying and loving person do such a thing?
Carrying and loving? Ace had never heard someone referring to Roger as such. This must have been some other man, because it couldn’t be his biological father.
06.06.1997
It has been two months since I last saw Roger. I don’t think I can do this anymore. I miss him. I miss him so much - my heart, my soul, my being are crying for him. I want to be with him, despite everyone and everything. I love this man. I hope that he still loves me too.
17.11.1997
Life lately has been crazy. I even though I lost this diary.
God, I’m so in love. Life has never been better. I’ve never been more loved or carried about by someone as much as Roger does for me.
It is funny in a way. A man with such power in the criminal world to be capable of so much love. Sometimes it hurts me how some people portrait him as this bad, uncaring, sadistic person, yet he is not. Or at least not like this with the people he loves.
I’ve met most of his closest men. It’s funny how men who can break someone’s bones so easily are actually such sweethearts. There are two guys my age that work for him – Shanks and Buggy, they are like brothers. Both of them hilarious in their own way. Shanks is very cocky and low-key Roger’s favorite, while Buggy is a whole comedy show on his own.
Ace had to stop reading for a second. He knew that Shanks used to work for his father, but Buggy? Is that the same Buggy the Clow? (Y/N)’s dad. Thinking about it now and how you and Shanks are not actually blood related at all this made so much sense.
He didn’t know how to feel about this. The fact that your parents were connected somehow and years later you two met unexpectedly… the world was in fact very small.
Taking a deep breath in Ace shook his head and he continued to read his mother’s diary. There was so much to process even from only what he had read now.
Shanks tried to hit on me the first time he saw me, very sleek and cocky, but after he got a good slap on the head by Roger, he never dared to do it again.
Life is going on pretty fast now. If someone a year ago had told me that I would meet the love of my life I would have never believed them, but life has a funny way of showing us things that are meant for us. And Roger and I are meant for each other.
02.02.1998
We are getting married. I can’t believe it. Roger proposed to me. I’m over the moon. The man who I have been so in love with and love with all my heart and soul proposed to me.
I can’t wait for the day I will call him my husband, and he will call me his life. Gol D Rouge – it sounds so much nicer than Portgas D Rouge.
If it’s up to me, we’ll get married tomorrow. All I need is him and someone to marry us, but Roger wants to give me my dream wedding. How do I tell him that all my dreams start and end with him?
There was a polaroid picture attached to this page. Ace unattached it from the staple that was holding it and carefully observed it. Both Roger and his mother were on it, with Roger’s arms around Rouge, while she had hers around his neck and they both looked so happy… so in love. Their smiles were big; it was so clear that it was a real happiness that could be read in their eyes. Roger was dressed in a black suit while Rouge was wearing a white dress, almost as if they had gotten married, but they never got the chance to.
Putting the picture to the side, he turned the next page of the diary, and his brows raised with a bit of surprise. There was an ultrasound picture dated – 04.05.1998. His mom was in fact a big collector of memories.
10.05.1998
A week ago, I found out that I’m pregnant. I’m carrying mine and Roger’s child. Our first child.
I told Roger today. He cried. This big, scary man broke down crying when I told and showed him a picture of the ultrasound. Seeing him down on his knees, wrapping one arm around me and the other placed on my still flat belly made me realize something – I choose the best man and soon to be father for me and my child.
To our future dear baby – I don’t care about the gender, and does neither you dad, I want you to know one thing – you are wanted and very, very loved even before you are born to this world. - Love mommy and daddy xx
Ace reread the last paragraph again, and again, and again. He never knew that he was a wanted child, let alone a loved one by both of them, or at least his mom, after all this was her diary. He had heard from his aunt that Rouge was excited to become a mother, but now reading her own words… she really did want to be one. She did want him.
14.08.1998
My first trimester finished. My belly is still not showing much, actually not at all. I wonder if the baby has enough space in it.
I’m so happy. My precious baby is growing steady and healthy. I can’t wait to hold it in my arms already and so is Roger. Every night and morning he have a special routine with my belly – in the morning he sings to it and at nighttime he tells it bedtime stories or one of his many stupid jokes. The baby of course… wait why do I keep writing the baby? I’m sorry my love… You, of course, my precious child, still doesn’t response to us at all, but I’m looking forward to the day when you’ll start kicking me with your little sweet feet and let us know who sings better – me or your dad (I really pray you get my voice… your dad’s a lost cause).
A little laughter, almost like a giggle, left Ace’s voice. Her wish did come true. This was something that even Dadan had told him million times, that he got his mother’s talent when it came to singing.
Also, your dad is stuffing me with food. I’m not eating for two, I’m eating for at least four people. My biggest pregnancy craving so far is spicy food. I’m craving so much spicy food, and I think it comes from you little rascal of mine, you seem to like it a lot, but I’ll see if I’m right once you come into this world.
We still don’t know if you will be a boy or a girl, but both your dad and I think that you’ll be a boy. It’s a weird gut feeling, but we are like eighty percent sure that we’ll be right. But you can always prank us and turn out to be a girl. Nevertheless – it doesn’t matter. We love you to the moon and back already. - Mommy and daddy xx
Ace could feel his heart getting heavier and heavier. How could they have loved him already so much? And how was this the same man he had heard so many bad things described as such loving and carrying person? His dad… loved him? Roger… Roger so far didn’t sound bad or sadistic… he sounded very fun and nice, almost likable.  
02.10.1998
You kicked for the first time ever today. It was in the morning, while your dad was singing to you. God, I wish I had a camera with me in that moment. Your kick was so precise and right in your dad’s face. I think you (and I) had enough of his awful singing.
Your dad and I will be finding your gender tomorrow. I’m so excited. We have already picked the names, or should I say your dad did: If you are a boy – Ace, after the band ‘Ace of Base’. Your dad and I had our first dance to their song ‘Lucky Love’ when we met for the first time ever. If you are a girl – Ann, after your dad’s mother, which I never got the chance to meet, but from what I know from you dad, she used to be a very lovely woman.
Ace pulled his phone immediately and searched for the song. He knew the band, but he had no idea he was named after them. He had no idea it was his father who picked his name.
While Ace was deep diving into his mother’s diary, Dadan pulled and lit a cigarette. Guilt was eating her alive. She should have given him this diary a long time ago. Maybe this would have been better for him, maybe then he would have less anger and sadness graved into his heart. But right now, all of this would be one big ‘What if…’
I can’t wait to know what I’ll be calling you from tomorrow. Your dad has been calling you Ace for some time now already; it’ll be funny if it turns out that he should have been calling you Ann this whole time.
Lots of love, - Mommy and daddy xx
03.10.1998
My Ace, my precious little Ace, my baby boy Ace.
We found out that you’ll be a boy today. We were right. I can’t wait to meet you baby. I can’t wait to hold you, and kiss you, and shower you with all the love I have in me. There won’t be another baby as loved as you will be my dear.
Now that I know that you’re a boy the strong kicks in my belly make even more sense. Part of me already sense that you’ll be as stubborn as me, but I do hope that you will take after many of your dad’s qualities as well – to be brave like him, strong, smart, carrying and so so many more.
We’ve already prepared ourselves to be the best mom and dad out there. Oh, Ace… I can’t wait to experience life with you. I can’t wait to see your first smile, hear your first giggle, see you taking your first steps… I can’t wait to meet you, my love.
Tears built up in the corner of his eyes and slowly started falling, something Ace hadn’t experienced for years. He didn’t remember the last time he cried, not even when he was watching (Y/N) leaving his apartment’s building that awful night three months ago; now they were falling one after another from his eyes and he couldn’t stop them.
He brought his fist to his lips and bit his knuckles as hard as he could to suppress the sobs threatening to escape his lips.
‘I can’t wait to experience life with you.’ These words stuck to him the most. This was beyond love. This was beyond everything. How much should you love someone to want to experience life with them?
Your dad and I spoke one night about how the perfect mixture of us would look like and I think we came to agreement – it doesn’t matter. Because you are already the perfect mixture of us and our love. - Love mommy and daddy xx
11.11.1998
To my Roger,
Today I had to see you getting buried six feet under the ground. Today a part of me got buried down there with you.
Life isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair to you, to me, and to our Ace.
Life wasn’t fair to you as it took you away so young. Life wasn’t fair because it took you five weeks before our Ace gets to be born. Life wasn’t fair to you because you would have to watch and protect Ace from above while you were meant to do it next to me.
Life isn’t fair to me. It took the man I’ve loved the most. The man that I’ll love forever. Life isn’t fair to me, because I can’t afford to grieve you the way I should, because I must make sure nothing will affect the health of our Ace.
Life isn’t fair to our son as well. He’ll never get the chance to meet you or know you, but Roger, I promise on my life, this child will know how amazing his father was and how much he loved and waited for him. I’ll make sure Ace knows how special he was for you, and he must be proud to be called your son.
 I promise you that I will do anything and everything to protect him from this world. I promise you, Roger – Ace will grow to be a strong successful man. He is our child after all; he will make it.
The pain he was feeling in his chest spread through his whole body. His mother wasn’t able to keep any of the promises, but to bring him to this world, with the price of her life. And for what? For her son to turn into a failure? Good for nothing?
Life wasn’t fair to his parents; this was something Ace could really agree with. Mostly to his mom.
26.12.1998
Our son is a week late. I was supposed to give birth to him a week ago, but so far, he is quite stubborn and doesn’t want to get out. I think he is planning to wait until thirty first exactly, so you two can share a birthday. Not that I mind. I’m going to give him all the time he needs. When he feels like it’s his time to come into this world he’ll come.
Recently he has been kicking me like crazy in the morning. I think he misses your awful singing as much as I do…  I miss it so much I started to pray that he can actually takes over your singing talent.
I can’t wait to hold him. Our Ace is the only thing left now which will remind me that I’ll have a part of you with me forever.
I love you, Roger. Always and forever.
This was the last page Rouge had written only five days before she would give birth to Ace and pass away.
His mind was a complete mess. They wanted him. They loved him. His parents were excited to have him. All he knew was this mom wanted him, he never knew how much she actually did and that she loved him so much. Not only this but his father… his father wasn’t so cruel as other people have portraited him to be. All his life Ace had heard how Roger took advantage of his mother, that he never loved her, he even heard that he had just used her once got her knocked up and never looked after her again, but the truth, the reality of it all was completely different.
Roger and Rouge were in love. Ace was made with love. He was wanted.
His heartbeat increased and he felt like his skin was burning hot, yet he was wearing only a T-shirt. With the increased pulse of his heart he felt like there wasn’t enough air to fill up his lungs. Cold sweat started to run down his forehead, grabbing his shirt with his fist he tried to take deep breaths as he could feel everything around him closing. The vision in front of him was blurry. He felt like everything around him was collapsing.
Dadan put her cigarette down and rose from her chair. What did he read to cause this reaction out from him? She had never seen Ace in such a state before. Scared, confused, fighting to breathe, all shaken up. What made him so emotional?
Walking next to him she grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. Ace’s head snaped towards her and in that moment, there in front of her wasn’t standing the big grown-up man he has become, no – in front of her was standing the little boy Ace. His eyes, red and still filled with tears, looked at her with so many questions in them. He looked so lost right now. Lost and scared.
“Try to breath kid.” Dadan told him as gently as she possibly could. Letting go of his shoulders she went to the sink and grabbed a glass, filling it with water. “Here drink.” She walked back to Ace, whose chest was still raising up and down like he had run a five kilometers marathon.
He couldn’t focus on what his aunt was telling him, but he still took the glass of water. With a shaking hand he lifted the glass to his lips and tried to calm his breathing a bit before he could take a sip.
Ace wasn’t sure how to feel right now. Finding out that you have always been wanted and loved by your own parents, even if they weren’t among the living people anymore, after twenty-six years would be a huge shock for anyone. Finding out that the man, who’s happened to be your father, was not the monster everyone portrayed him to be, was even bigger. Because now… now Ace couldn’t blame his father anymore for his heartless behavior.
Trying to calm his breath and collect his mind, Ace placed the glass on the table and got up on his feet. His aunt took a step back, giving him some space. Running his hands through his hair Ace closed his eyes before he spoke up. “Why?” The question came out as a whisper. Raw and painful whisper.
“What why, Ace?” Dadan took another step back.
“Why you never gave me this?” Taking his mother’s diary from the table Ace angrily waved it at his aunt’s face, shouting at her. “Why Dadan? Why?” His voice was cracking from anger, disappointment.
If a second ago he was consumed by fear and sadness, now Ace was seeing red. He felt like something that has always belonged to him has been kept away as a punishment. But punishment for what - for whom was his father or that he was born?
“Don’t dare to yell at me, brat.” Dadan screamed back at him. She would never let her be disrespected in her own house. “I never thought you care about your parents to begin with, let alone your father.” She answered more calmly. “Plus, I was afraid you might take after his bad criminal side.” Moving to the table she took her pack of cigarettes and pulled another one out, lighting it up. She took a long drag of the cigarette before she continued speaking. “You almost did, thought.”
“But I didn’t.” Ace’s voice roared so loudly it could have been heard even outside. Walking closer to Dadan he locked his eyes with her. He and her shared the same eye color, but now he was a bit darker than usual and full of rage and pain.
“All my life Dadan.” Slowly and quietly, he started speaking. “All my life, I felt guilty to be alive and I’ve always seen it in your eyes.” He pointed a finger at her. “You’ve always blamed me for my mother’s death. Always. After all these years I’ve always felt that you have some kind of resentment towards me, and don’t you?” She didn’t respond. Her face was like a stone. “If you’ve hated me this much why you didn’t give me to child services or something?”
“Because I’ve promised your mother.” And deep down she knew she had failed her promise. She always knew this, she just didn’t want to admit it.
“You promised her what exactly? And what exactly she made you promise?” Ace took a few steps back and waited for a response.
“That I’ll take care of you, brat.” Dadan said more harshly this time. She wasn’t the type of person who openly talked about things that would cause her pain. That was why she wanted this conversation between her and her nephew to be over. “Didn’t you get the answers you were looking for from that stupid diary?” She pointed with her hand at the pink diary in Ace’s hand.
“I did and now don’t know who or what to believe anymore.” Ace did get a few answers out of it, but now he had even more questions. “You’ve always said that Roger was a bad person and partner to my mother, but here-” He raised his hand holding the diary. “Here, with my mother’s words, he is a completely different person and far away from a bad partner.”
“Oh, Ace.” Dadan sighed. “I won’t believe everything your mother had written about this man. She was so blindly in love with this man, of course, she only saw the good in him.”
“So, there was good in him after all?” Ace walked to the table and rested the palms of his hands on it.
“Your mother was a young beautiful woman that Roger took advantage of it.” Dadan raised her voice a bit. “Like it or not Ace your father was a bad person.”
“You’ve said it yourself that you two never officially met. How do you know how good or bad of a person he was?”
“Are you defending him now?” His aunt raised one brow surprisingly.
Was Ace defending his father now? Maybe. As much as he didn’t like it, maybe after what he just read about him from his mother’s perspective had messed up with his opinion about his father and now, mostly because of Rouge, Ace felt like he had to defend his father in some way.
“Maybe, I am.” It was hard to say it out loud, but he did. “This doesn’t change the fact that you try to answer my questions with a question.” Sitting down opposite her, Ace tapped with his fingers on the table as he gestured to his aunt to start speaking. “Come on, Dadan. You’ve already messed me up years ago, believe me, nothing you say today, would make my live any more different than it already is.” A small sad smile was placed on his face.
The house got quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the warm spring wind coming from the opened window in the kitchen and the clicking of the clock on the wall. The curly ginger haired woman didn’t know what to say. She felt ashamed. She had felt like this many, many times before. Mostly because she knew she failed her promise. But today she realized how much she did actually fail.
Clearing her throat she finally spoke up. “You’re right Ace. I don’t know how much your father was a bad or a good person, but I never liked him. My sister, your mother, she was a woman with so much potential. She could have actually gotten out of this bad area of town, she could have gotten a very good job and had a very stable family, but sadly she met your father. And yes… she did love him. She did love him very much.” Saying this out loud, Dadan remembered one of the few times her little sister shared with her some of the things Roger had done for her. Her eyes were glowing every time she would mention his name. She would keep every flower he gave her even after it was dead. She would always say how Roger was the love of her life. Her soulmate. “From what she would tell me about him from time to time… yes, it did sound like he loved her as well.”
Ace was listening carefully. Dadan had never opened up to him or anyone to begin with. She was like an emotionally disabled person, there was barely any emotion she would show, and if they were any it was usually anger or disappointment, at least towards him. Sabo and Luffy received some love from her in one way or another.
“Before she died in the hospital bed…” Dadan needed a moment before she could continue to speak. Till this day, the thought of her sister’s last minutes before she passed away hunted her like a never-ending nightmare. “She called for me and I went inside her room. You were wrapped in her arms, and she was gently creasing your face while you slept. She called me in her room because she wasn’t feeling good. Then… then…” Tears started to build up as she remembered more and more the words her sister told her. “Then she looked at me and I could see tears in her eyes, but they weren’t tears of sadness, Ace… she was crying from happiness, even though she was in pain and not feeling good… she… she held you up a-and s-said…” Dadan’s voice cracked as tears were falling down like waterfalls from her eyes. “She said – ‘Look at him, Dadan. Isn’t he perfect?’” She buried her face in the palms of her hands as sobs started to escape her lips.
Ace didn’t say anything, nor did he try to calm his aunt down. He was just listening carefully and trying to assimilate what he had heard. And what he had heard broke his heart but also brought him a bit of peace. His mother had held him. He always thought that she had died immediately after his birth, but this wasn’t true. She got to spend some time with him. He got to spend some time with her, even if he couldn’t remember it, he had been held and loved by his mother even if it was for just a moment. He got the chance to be loved by her.
Wiping her tears away and trying to collect herself, Dadan cleared her throat and continued. “And you were Ace. You were perfect. You were innocent… a-and still are, when it comes to your mom’s death. I’m sorry if I ever said or made you feel like you were at fault for this. It wasn’t your fault. It was the doctors.”
Ace couldn’t believe what he was hearing. All these years he thought and was told that it was his fault. But it never was.
“She died from internal bleeding. But before she did, and they took her for emergency operation she made me promise that I’ll take care of you… and love you as my own child, like you were my own son… b-but I… I-I c-could never do this…” Her heart was breaking. She never took the role of his mother fully, because she never could. “I couldn’t do it, because you were their child. You were… you are her child, and the thought that I should take her place as your rightful mother never sat right with me, because… because no one could have been better mother to you than Rouge.” Ace didn’t say anything, he just let his aunt continue to speak. “I always saw myself as your aunt and never as your parent and now I realize how wrong I was for not at least try to be the mother you needed.”
Neither of them dared to say something. Tears were streaming down their faces. Both hurt by the same fate, but in different ways.
Ace wasn’t moving at all. He just let the tears fall. His mind was a mess, his heart was hurting, and his body was paralyzed. Seeing him in such a state broke Dadan’s heart. The realization of how much she had hurt this child, her child, her own and only living blood made her stand up and for the first time ever, in years, she went and hugged him. She hugged him in a strong hold and kissed the top of his head.
“I’m sorry, Ace. I’m so sorry for all the damage I’ve done to you.” She whispered to him. “You’re a great child and a young man. Your parents would have been proud of you.” She could feel the way his body was shaking and hear how he was trying to hold his sobs. “I’m proud of you son.”
Hearing this, Ace finally wrapped his arms around his aunt and let himself cry, without suppressing his voice. He let himself being vulnerable, something he never had done before.
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It had been four days since me and Usopp have been editing. We had seven hours of material, of which so much could be used, but we decided to not make the movie longer than twenty minutes.
Looking at the time my eyes widen. “Oh my, we’ve been editing for eight hours.”
“What time is it?” Usopp turned to look at me as surprised as I was.
“It’s already six thirty.” And we were nowhere close to being done, we would need at least five more days or more. Taking a glance at Usopp, I clapped with my hands to catch his attention, as he had turned back to the computer’s screen to fix something in the editing program again. “I think we can call it the day.”
“Yea, we should probably do this.” Saving the progress we had made so far with the movie, Usopp closed the editing program and then turned off the computer. “Do you want me to give you a ride?” As much as his offer sounded very nice, I decided that it was best to turn it down. “You sure? I don’t mind.”
“Uh, Usopp, you’re a sweetheart. Kaya is a lucky girl.” I said to him with a smile as we made our way out. “But yes, I’m sure.”
Before we part ways and say goodbye, I asked him what time we should meet tomorrow only for him to remind me that tomorrow we must speak with the second-year students for our internship with them and which groups we would like to join. Something that totally had left my mind.
“Have you chosen a group already?” I was hoping he would say ‘no’, because working with a certain someone from the second year would be quite awkward for me.
“No, I’m still debating which movie to choose. Dave’s one is supper cool, is more of a modern sci-fi vibe, so maybe I’ll chose his group.”
“Oh, is he directing?” I was surprised to hear this. Knowing Dave and what he wanted to do with filmmaking, directing wasn’t his main goal.
“Apparently. He’s very excited about it.” Usopp turned to pull me in a hug as we reached the exit, and we were to go on our separate ways. “I doubt you would choose his, but it’ll be a very nice movie, think about your CV.”
Looking away awkwardly I just nodded. “Yes, sure. Well, we’ll text then. Bye, Usopp.”
Making my way to the metro satiation, I pulled out my headphones to listen to some music, but I have run out of battery for them. I took this as an opportunity to observe the outside world and also to see if someone was following me.
This weird feeling that I was being followed hasn’t left me for weeks. The only time I didn’t feel followed was when I went away for a week, but since I came back the feeling did as well.
Two stops before mine, two girls entered the metro, no older than sixteen. They were holding hands and singing while one of them had her phone up in the air. I couldn’t recognize the song at first nor heard it as they were wearing airpods, but the lyrics sounded familiar. Like I have heard this song before somewhere.
“Uhh, this is my favorite part.” One of the girls said as she continued to sing.
I tried to write your name in the rain, But the rain never came
As they sat in front of me and continued to sing, it immediately clicked to me where I recognized this song from… it was his song, to which I mentally rolled my eyes.
And if you were my little girl I'd do whatever I could do I'd run away and hide with you I know that you got daddy issues
This song was everywhere and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t escape it. It was played so played and streamed, to a point where I personally think it was overplayed.
“Ace please, I can be your little girl.” One of them said while the other giggled. I couldn’t help but side-eyed the girl by the comment she made. Was she aware that she was a minor?
“Shut up, he is mine. I can cure his daddy issues.” Her friend replied and they started to mess with each other.
“Well, him and Law can cure mine for sure.” The first girl playfully licked her lips and they erupted laughing.
I couldn’t suppress the annoyed chuckle that left my lips. The two teenaged girls noticed it and gave me a weird look, which I chose to ignore.
Luckily, my stop finally came, and I left the metro. If I had to listen to one more dirty comment about Ace or any other of the guys, I was going to shoot myself on the spot. I doubted that they would still think the same if they knew how Ace treated the girls he was interested in. It was all fun and games until he decided that it was boring to play.
God, how I hated thinking of this man. I hated how much effect he still had on me despite all the things that had happened between us. Since I told Nami about what happened, my thoughts have gone back occasionally to him and the night of Sanji’s party.
Did he really get jealous when he saw me with Kid, and why would he? He was the one who didn’t want to have anything to do with me in the first place, and now he saw me with another man and immediately decided that he wants me back or something? And this whole ‘Let’s start all over again’ bullshit pissed me off so much. ‘Don’t forgive me just give me a chance.’ – did he think I was this brainless and so easily manipulated? I would neither forgive nor forget, because he didn’t deserve either of these.
Being caught up in my thoughts I finally approached my street and the building I lived in. My whole mood had changed. I was so pissed, and it was again because I allowed myself to think about him.
Not paying attention to my surroundings, I bumped into someone as I was searching for my keys at the bottom of my bag, I said sorry without even looking at them, but then they called me by my name, and this made me freeze on the spot. This voice. This painfully familiar voice which I hated from the bottom of my heart. What was she doing here? Swallowing hard I took a deep breath and continued to search for my keys in my bag. My name got called again. I felt the keys at the bottom of my bag and pulled them out.
“Please, (Y/N), wait.” Her voice has always been soft and a bit raw, I guess it was from all the crack she had smoked over the years. She came closer to me as I was opening the door, still ignoring her. “I just want to speak with you.”
Reaching with her hand to stop me from entering the building I snapped and finally turned around when I felt her hand touching my shoulder. “Don’t you ever dare touching me.” I felt the unpleasant feeling of disgust and anger taking over me. “What are you doing here?” So far in my life only two people have mastered how to make my blood boil, one less than the other but still -Ace and my mother.
I haven’t seen her in years. Last time she tried to reach out for me was almost two years ago and it was on the phone, so I cut her fast by blocking her number. Then I didn’t speak with my father for a month because he had given it to her, and he knew how much I despised this woman.
But seeing her in person was a surreal feeling, something that hasn’t happened since I was five years old, yet I could still recognize her face. Despite all the drugs she has taken over the years I would be lying if I say that she was ugly. The substance abuse had made her age a bit faster and added an unhealthy look to her, but still the same face I had seen in the pictures my dad had kept over the years.
I have always hated how much I looked like her but seeing her after all these years twisted my stomach in a very unpleasant way.
“I’ve wanted to see you and speak with you.” She took a small step back. The look of fear and guilt written all over her eyes, same color as mine. “Your dad gave me your address and…” She cleared her throat. “And I’ve been here for some time now, trying to approach you as-”
Cutting her off and not letting her finish her sentence I raised my voice at her as I let go of the front door and closed it angrily. “Were you following me around?” Looking down at the ground she slowly nodded. “I knew I wasn’t crazy.” I murmured under my breath.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.” The way her voice trembled with fear made me give her a questioning look. “I-I just want to speak with you, please just one conversation, I beg you.”
What was with people and wanting to talk with me recently? Since when have I become such an important person to people who have hurt me and now want to become part of my life again?
Without saying anything I looked away. The street wasn’t busy, there were barely any people passing by. The wind was blowing softly as the sun was slowly starting to go down. It was just me and her at the top of the staircase leading to the entrance of the building.
Looking back at her, with zero emotions on my face, in an even, unbothered tone I spoke to her. “What you want or beg for, you won’t get from me, because I don’t care. Now go away as I don’t want to see you ever again.” Turning to open the entrance door once again, I stopped because she called me by my childhood nickname, the one given to me and used only by her. This made me snap. “Don’t you ever call me this ever again.”
I never knew that my voice could be this loud. I also never knew how much exactly the pain and the anger I carried towards her were, until a quite vivid memory of the last days I got to spend with her played in my mind the second she called me by it.
It was a day like today. Sunny and warm but still windy. We went on a walk while my dad was at work. She asked me if I wanted an ice cream and to go to the park. I was almost five, of course I wanted ice cream and to go to the park, so we quickly made our way there. I remembered the way she gently held my hand and slightly swung it back and forth while I was happily skipping right next to her. When we finally reached the park and the ice cream shop she let go of my hand and let me run to the ice cream truck.
“Mommy, come.” I called out for her. With my tongue sticking out, I got on my tiptoes to look at the ice creams at display. “Mommy, mommy, fast.” Clapping with my hands excitedly I start jumping on one spot.
She finally came and picked me up in her arms. “Have you chosen already?” Her voice was so soft and caring as she caressed my little face. Nodding eagerly, I pointed at the ice cream I wanted. “But, honey, you won’t like this flavor.”
“Please, mama.” I grabbed her face with both hands and gave her puppy eyes.
Sighing she shook her head with a smile, before giving me a kiss on the forehead and buying the flavor I wanted and one more ice cream for her. Putting me on the ground so she could take them I bounced excitedly on my feet, reaching with my hands for the ice cream.
“Let’s go to the bench over there and I’ll give you the ice cream.” Pointing at the bench next to the playground I didn’t waste any time and ran off to it.
I sat on the bench and patiently, as much as one four, almost five years old child could be. Sitting next to me she handed me the ice cream with one little spoon. “Thank you, mommy.” I gave her one big toothy grin before digging the small spoon into it.
The moment I tasted the ice cream I turned to face her with a grimace. She started laughing at me and the faces I was making. Calling me by the nickname she always used for me, she took the ice cream from my hands. “What did I tell you?” There was nothing that sounded like scolding in her voice or looking like she was pissed. She was just gentle and caring. “Here, take mine.”
I took the ice cream she handed me, and my eyes shifted between her and the cold sweet treat. “But mama… this is yours.” I handed it back to her, but she shook her head.
“It’s yours.”
“Thank you, mommy.” I made a kissy face which made her lean closer to me so I could kiss her cheek. “You’re the best mama in the world.”
I never saw her after that day, nor did she try to contact me until I was twenty. Now she stood in front of me, having the audacity to call me by the nickname that I hate from the bottom of my heart, and wanted to have a conversation with me.
“Do you really think that I want to see you or speak with you after you didn’t bother to acknowledge my existence in the past seventeen years?” Taking a step closer to her made her move a step back from me.
“I was going through something.” She quietly said. Did I hear her correctly? She was going through something?
Raising my brows as I couldn’t believe what she had just said to me, and I chuckled. “You’re joking, right? You can’t be seriously telling me this?”
Shaking her head, she pulled a strand of her hair behind her ear, and I noticed the way her hands were shaking as she started to play with it. “I-I was in a v-very dark place.” Swallowing hard she looked at me with fear. “B-but you n-never left my mind. I was t-thinking about you all the time.”
A makeshift of mocking laughter left my lips. “Was this during smoking crack or sniffing something?” She turned her head to the side and her whole face scrunched as I continued. “Or was it during some psychotic episode?”
Wrapping one of her arms around herself she slouched her posture a bit. “I-I’m clean now.”  
“Sorry, what was that?” Bringing my hand to my ear I pretended like I didn’t hear her. “Did you say you’re clean?” I faked excitement in my voice. “Oh my Gosh, congratulation. For how long two, three days? And what now, you wanna play mother and daughter?” Clapping my hands mockingly I waited for her response. I bet she fooled my father that she was clean, but she couldn’t fool me.
“Please, stop acting like this.” A soft painful cry left her lips.
Placing my hand on my chest I gave her a pitiful look. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I just happened to grow up without mother, so I lack a lot of manners.”
I was blinded by my anger. I didn’t know how much of it I had been holding for her until I saw her standing in front of me. All these years when I desperately needed a mother she wasn’t there and now it was too late. The person who brought me to this world was the first person ever to abandon me and for which I would never forgive her.
“For which I’ll never forgive myself, but p-please g-give me a chance for just o-one conversation.” She pleaded once again.
Slowly I shook my head. “No.” This time there was no mocking or laughing. “That night you left you made the conscious choice of abandoning me. I grew up without you. When I needed a mother, you weren’t there.” Tears started to fall from her eyes. “Instead, you were out there, who knows doing what.” I couldn’t hide the disgust in my voice. “You chose drugs over your family. Over your daughter.” She tried to say something, but I didn’t let her. “No, you wanted to speak with me, right? Here I am. Speaking to you.”
There were so many things I wanted to tell her. So many things I wanted to ask her as – ‘Why did you leave?’ Was I such a bad child that she had to just… leave? She didn’t even bother taking her stuff, we just woke up one day and she was gone. The first time she tried to contact us again was eleven years after. For whatever reason my father did keep in contact with her after that. I never understood why till this day he was so keen on her, but I didn’t really want to know the answer to this as I was sure I would not like it.
None of this matter now. As much as I had a lot to say to her, I also didn’t want to say anything. But I was hurt, and I needed to let her know, let her feel my internal pain from all these years, because this was the first and last conversation she was to have with me.
“I don’t care if you’re going to forgive yourself or not, because I never will.” Hearing this she pressed her hand to her lips to suppress the sobs coming from her. “I don’t care if you are clean or not, because I doubt that you’ll last long without your precious crack.” I couldn’t help but give her a disgusting look. “All these years I kept asking myself why – why did my mother left me? Was I such a bad child?”
Looking at her directly in her redden eyes I wanted to make sure that she would listen and understand what I was about to say next. “But there was no answer to these questions, until one day it hit me. I was never the problem; you were just one disgusting excuse of a mother and the worst thing that I got to carry within myself is the fact that I share the same blood with a piece of shit like you.”
My words were cutting deep into all the wounds she had but I wasn’t planning to stop nor to apologies about it. “Why you want to speak with me or see me doesn’t matter. You can go back to your biggest love in this world also know as crack and make sure to have fun and live without worry in this world as you have done so far. Be-”
“Stop, just stop talking.” Her scream interrupted me. “None of this is true, I had to go away because otherwise I was gonna end my life, would you have preferred this?” She then moved a few steps closer to me until she was standing just millimeters away from my face. “Would you have preferred to have a dead mother more than one that was not present in your life?”
“Yes, yes I would!” I screamed back at her. “Did you really think that abandoning me was the better solution? Do you even hear yourself? Actually, don’t answer this, all the shit you have smoked and taken has obviously fried your brain.” I couldn’t control myself as I pushed her away from me with one hand as she got way to close to me.  
“Don’t you dare pushing me, I’m your mother.” She yelled at me and slapped my hand away.
“You’re not my mother.” I yelled back. She was pushing all my buttons at the same time. How could she call herself a mother? Giving birth and being a mother were two different things, apparently, she wasn’t aware of it. “For God sake, you left. You left and never came back and now is too late, and I don’t want to see you.”
“But here I am standing in front of you and asking for a chance to be your mom.” Her yell got mixed with desperate cry.
“I don’t need a mother. When I did you wasn’t here and now is too late, so go away before I call the police.” I turned around and inserted the keys to unlock the entrance door.
“So, you want to tell me that if I go and die tonight you won’t care?” She said behind me with a trembling voice.
Without looking at her, I clenched my fists and jaw hard as I tried to remain as calm as I could possibly be. “You’ve been dead to me for quite some time now… so it won’t make any difference.” Without waiting for a response, I shut the door after me and made my way to my apartment.
I was shaking by the time I reached it and entered it. Closing the door behind me I leaned my back on it and slowly fell down to the ground. All the anger and hatred and pain shifted into uncontrollable sobs. In between them I was gasping for air as everything around me seemed to suffocate me.
With shaky hands I reached out and pulled my phone, dialing my father’s number. It didn’t take long before he answered. “How could you?” I cried on the phone.
“Baby girl? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” The tone of his voice changed immediately. “Are you hurt? What happened?”
“D-don’t act like y-you don’t know.” Gasping for air once again before I responded I tried my best to calm myself, but I couldn’t. “H-how c-could you give h-her my a-address.” I wasn’t asking, I was shaming him. I wanted him to feel bad, to feel guilty. “You… you know I d-don’t want to have o-or do a-anything with her. I don’t want to be associated with this person, how could you let her know where I live?”
I have never felt more betrayed in my life than I was right now. The thing that hurt the most was the fact that it was my dad of all the people who did it. He knew how much it took me to accept the fact that she left us, he knew how much I closed myself for the outside world when she abandoned us and how hard it was for me to slowly start opening again. Seeing her today, after all these years, made me feel like all this progress over the years flew out the window.
My dad stayed quiet for some time, listening to my gaps for air, not knowing what to say first. Finally, I heard him exhaling heavily before speaking up. “I’m sorry, baby girl… but she is your mom, and I couldn’t keep her away from you.”
“You couldn’t keep her away from me even after you know how much this would affect me?” My heart was breaking. Of all people, I never expected this from my father. He was always my safety place, but now all I could feel for him was like he was my worst enemy.
“She is clean, and she wants a chance to show you she loves you.” He tried to defend her, which only added to my pain. Did he forget what we had been though because of her absence? “Please, give her a chance. I know that you don’t really know her, but baby girl… you mother is not a bad person.”
“My mother abandoned me, dad!” I screamed onto the phone. “She left me. Do you hear me? She left! She made the choice to leave while I needed her the most! How could you defend her after all the damage she had done to me? To us?”
My throat hurt from all the screaming. I could feel my voice slowly dropping an octave every time I screamed and tried to make my father understand me. “How could you defend the woman who abandoned you and your child?” I whispered as tears continued to fall on my face.
“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He quietly said. “Please, take some deep breaths and calm down.” His pointless attempts to calm me down were only adding to the fuel.
“I don’t want to calm down.” I yelled with whatever voice I had left. “I want to know why you betrayed me like this. You of all people. I thought you love me and never would allow anything to harm me, yet you sent the person who had hurt me the most straight to my home. How could you, how?”
The anger was somehow gone and replaced by the pain in my chest. This hurt way more than when Ace pushed me away three months ago, and I thought back then that nothing would ever hurt more but was I wrong.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen baby girl.” I could hear the guilt in his voice. “But… I thought that maybe if you meet her, you’ll find it within your heart to forgive her. I-I thought that even if it might be late, you two could try and fix your relationship.”
“Dad, do you hear yourself? What relationship?” It wasn’t like me and her fought two weeks ago and now we should make it up and forgive each other, no. I never fought with her until today, because I never got the chance to grow up with her. She abandoned me before I was even five years old; there was no relationship between me and her at all. It never existed and it would never.
“Baby girl, I know, but you must understand me and the position I’m in as well.” He whined from the other side of the line.
“What position, dad? What must I understand? The fact that you get so easily manipulated by a woman who left you seventeen years ago, is this what am I supposed to understand?” I really couldn’t understand him, neither did I want to.
“Don’t be so harsh (Y/N)!” He scolded me with a harsh tone which left me surprised. He had never really done this, why was he so defensive over her.
“Why are you so defensive for her but not me?”
“Because you’re acting like a child right now, and I wasn’t expecting this from you.” His tone continued to be a bit harsh. “Your mother is clean, and she is very scared and lost, but she is also trying to do the right thing by fixing things with you, but you as always have to make things complicated as you are sometimes so stubborn.”
I didn’t respond to this, I just cut him off by ending the conversation. He chose her over me. He chose her wants and needs over my own. He broke all the trust I had for him, and I would never be able to forgive him for this.
My phone started to vibrate. My dad was calling, but I ignored it. I just stared at the empty space, not really focused on anything, just staring. My mind was a mess, thought after thought running through it. I felt so alone, so lonely. I had no one to call who would understand me, or at least I couldn’t call him. I found it both scary and hilarious that even in a moment like this one, the only person who I could think of giving me some kind of comfort happened to be the one who had also broken my heart a few months ago.
I recently read somewhere – ‘The irony of pain is that you want to be comforted by who hurt you.’ I got the meaning when I read it, but I didn’t really understand it. Not until now. But it didn’t matter. I guess I was meant to be a loner. Maybe I was one of those people who deal with sadness and pain all by themselves. Maybe at the end of the day I was a bad person, because good people have a shoulder to cry on, didn’t they?
What my father said before I ended the phone call might be right. I was quite stubborn and harsh sometimes, maybe I was in fact the problem. Maybe my mother and I could have been able to fix things between us, but now we would never know.
Now I would never know, because the next morning I woke up my phone was spammed with messages and calls from my dad. Swallowing the pain and the betrayal I called him back, and part of me wished that I didn’t. My mother was dead.
I had killed my own mother. Not literally, but I did feel like her death was on me. It was my words who made her relapse. It was my actions towards her yesterday that made her overdose later that night. It was me who told her that it didn’t matter if she was alive or not as she was already death to me. It was her blood on my hands. It was her death that it would be on top of my shoulders, carrying it on my back as a cross and reminder that I am in fact a bad person. And bad people don’t make it far in life.
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END NOTE: This chapter was supposed to be way, waaayyyy longer, but I decided mid-way editing that it was better to leave it like this as I realized that I wrote such a beautiful parallel between Ace and Reader and this should be the main focus for this chapter. I want to say that this moment between Reader and her mother was meant to happened and it was in my mind probably since chapter three of the story. I understand if you all hate me for the last part of the story and if you find it a bit too harsh, believe me I did try to actually made it as "soft" as I possibly can so I don't trigger someone with some trauma or something. BUT this is how I see the story going and this is how I plan to deliver it. I don't like flat character and I don't plan to write about such. Both Reader and Ace are complicated and this is what makes them perfect for each other, but there is still time for their relationship to develop more. While Ace somehow "improved" the relationship with his family and read how wanted and loved he always had been, our girl Reader went in complete spiral with her parents and how they hurt her growing up and also feeling betrayed by her father mostly. One of them got their heart a bit fix while the other got another heartbreak to add to their record. As always I will appreciate any feedback and reflections by you guys by either commenting or messaging me. I love hearing your thoughts on how the story goes and what you liked or didn't. ♡ Thank you for reading it ♡♡♡
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✰ taglist ✰ @orange-milky @neospade @bluetokie @glaciuswduo @izoswifey @l-l-light @kanekisheart @gojossixtheyes @lilink @kitsunechan707 @kattywhomper
♡ comment or message me if you want to be included in the taglist ♡
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writing, format & dividers © cinnamoonblue fanart @a_phu14 on IG ©cinnamoonblue, do not copy or plagiarise my work.
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thisapplepielife · 6 months ago
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Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.
Gossip Is Currency
Prompt Day 21: Formal | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Canon Background Stancy | Tags: Missing Scene from S2's The Pollywog, Post-Halloween "Bullshit" Scene, Pre-Steddie, Platonic Hellcheer, School Sucks, Eddie Knows
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This is cruel and unusual punishment. 
Eddie sits on the stupid folding chair, behind the stupid folding table, with a stack of tickets to sell to the winter formal. It was this or another suspension, and it was only because he was sure Wayne would not appreciate not having to talk to the principal again anytime soon, that Eddie chose this option.
They've got bubbly cheerleader Chrissy Cunningham sitting next to him controlling the money box that they definitely didn't trust him to be anywhere near, as they try to sell tickets to the kids still roaming around during extracurriculars.
Chrissy hasn't said anything to him after greeting him, and he hasn't said anything in return. They hung out once before, during a middle school talent show, but he doesn't expect that she remembers that.
Another shitty jock walks up.
"Two?" Chrissy asks.
"Yeah," the kid answers, and she takes the money, makes the change, and all Eddie has to do is hand over the two ticket stubs.
He resents it. 
It's stupid, it's–
"It's bullshit," he hears from down the hall.
Yeah, it's exactly that.
And hell's frozen over, if he agrees with King Steve.
Harrington's in some sort of heated debate with Wheeler as they stomp down the hallway, bickering back and forth. She's a fucking firebrand, that one. Everyone thinks she's a priss, but oh no, Eddie's studied this whole school long enough to know that's not even remotely true.
Harrington's gonna get knocked down a peg or two under her, and deservedly so.
Seeing them coming in his direction is at least interesting. Eddie tears off the two tickets and hands them over to Tweedle Dumb, and keeps watching the free show heading his way.
"Winter formal tickets?" Chrissy asks Harrington, and Jesus H. Christ, does she have no observation skills? Now is not the time. This is the time to blend into the wall so they can get the dirty fucking details on this fight. Gossip is currency.
Harrington turns to look at them, and shakes his head no. He looks more sad than mad, and that isn't near as fun. 
"Steve," Wheeler says, and she looks annoyed.
Harrington runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends, and then they're gone. 
Well, that was uneventful in the end. He didn't learn anything worth repeating.
Eddie had heard rumors of a Halloween night blow-up, but wasn't there to see it with his own eyes. Apparently they're still in a tiff today.
He can still hear the echo of them around the corner and down the hall, and well, he's nosey. It pays to know everything that's going on in this school.
"Be right back," Eddie says, and follows them down the hall, with the excuse that he's heading to the pop machine.
He digs four quarters out of his pocket, and pretends it's hard to make a decision, before hitting the Mellow Yellow button. The machine whirrs to life, and the can drops down. He feeds the other two quarters in, still trying to listen to Harrington and Wheeler fussing by the double-doors.
Eddie can't really decipher much besides hissing mumbles. Damn.
He presses another button without even really paying attention.
Welch's Grape Soda.
He might actually pick that over the Mellow Yellow he thought he originally wanted.
Harrington and Wheeler leave, so Eddie takes both cans back towards the table, holding them up, an offer, "You want?"
Chrissy smiles, "Really?"
Eddie nods, "You choose," he says, and she falters, just a bit, looking up at him like there might be a wrong answer.
There's no wrong answer here. No trick. He puts them both down on the table, "Totally fine either way."
She reaches for the grape, and is still looking his way. He nods, "Excellent choice," as he picks up the Mellow Yellow, and cracks open the can.
"Thanks, Eddie," she says, like he's given her something more than a can of pop. Carver's a bigger dick than he'd realized, apparently. 
They sit in silence, waiting for more kids to finish up with their stupid clubs and practices. 
The door clangs closed on the other end of the school, and they wait. It's Harrington again. He crosses the hall intersection in his little shorts, and Eddie can see that he's pinching his nose as he darts out of their line of sight as quickly as he entered.
Then it's just them, alone in the hallway again.
"She called him bullshit," Chrissy whispers.
Eddie turns and looks at her, waiting for her to elaborate.
She does.
"On Halloween. At Tina's party. She called him and his love bullshit. I heard it myself, waiting for the bathroom. She was drunk, not making sense about Barb Holland. It was pretty mean."
"No shit?" he asks, leaning closer. 
She nods, giving him a rundown of the whole party. She's got all the good gossip, not just about Harrington and Wheeler's dust up. Eddie feels a twinge of something. 
He's well acquainted with being shit on publicly.
Nobody's around this school, and Eddie gets up to go take a piss. He can't sit still. Hates it. And doing it for this is a special version of hell.
He walks down the hall, to the bathroom. He stands in front of the urinal, unzips and is pissing when he hears the stifled cough from behind him.
Eddie turns to look and sees familiar shoes under the stall door.
Tucking himself back in, re-zipping, he reaches over and flushes the urinal.
"Harrington," Eddie says. 
He waits and there's no response. 
"Harrington," he tries again.
"Go away, Munson," Harrington says, and then mumbles under his breath, "It's bullshit. I'm bullshit."
Eddie takes three steps towards the door, then impulsively turns back.
"She's wrong, you know? You're not bullshit."
And then Eddie waits a beat before adding, "You're just an asshole."
Steve chuckles, and Eddie smiles to himself as he turns and heads out the door.
Timing is everything. 
Mission accomplished.
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flyingwargle · 6 months ago
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november fanfic recs!
we're almost at the end of the year, but there's always fanfic to be read! check out previous months' recs: october, september, august, july
some of these fics are rated e!
sakuatsu
can we always be this close (forever and ever?) g. 3.1k. sakusa approaches osamu to ask for his ring size because he plans to propose to atsumu. osamu instead interrogates him to see if he's ready to be with atsumu forever, while suna watches. very endearing with the best ending ever.
The Wisdom Tooth Incident™ g. 4.8k. atsumu gets his wisdom tooth removed and forgets about sakusa in his post-anesthetic haze. i will never tire of this trope. you can pry it from my cold, dead hands.
city of millions t. 7.2k. mostly sakusa-centric and background sakuatsu. a beautiful love letter to sakusa's early years of university, his friendship with akaashi, and learning to reconnect with things that he left in the past (things being miya atsumu).
lingua franca m. 9.1k. sakusa learns about the different love languages through his life and finally finds someone who has the same love language as him.
itadakimasu t. 10.9k. pro athlete sakusa puts out an ad for someone to cook him meals, and aspiring chef atsumu answers his call. a slow but beautiful partnership that leads to love.
double lift e. 12.8k. 3/3. accidentally been reading a lot of winterwaltz6's works this month huh (they're all very good though). this one is the intimacy of sakusa helping atsumu re-dye his hair after he's been on the bench due to a knee injury. very soft and warm <3
halfway to sunrise e. 12.9k. atsumu offhandedly tells sakusa that he can sleep with him and sakusa takes him up on it. fwb to lovers.
hustle for that muscle e. 13.8k. atsumu and suna make a bet on who can get an underwear ad first, and the loser has to ask their respective crush out. atsumu loses, hence the hilarious attempt to ask sakusa out, which leads to eventually trying to sleep with him.
anchor m. 21.3k. atsumu helps sakusa through his panic attack and sakusa reciprocates in turn. augh, the emotional damage this caused, but the fluff made up for it. beautiful writing and discussions of mental health.
take two e. 23k. 3/3. sakusa reconnects with his ex, atsumu, after finding him on an adult site, and maybe, just maybe, they'll rekindle their relationship. the prose was full of so much pining and love.
A Thousand Cuts t. 37.9k. 3/3. this is the perfect study of misunderstandings, miscommunication and unrequited love. absolutely heartbreaking with gripping prose.
hand study e. 84.4k. 7/7. atsumu injures sakusa's hand and becomes his personal helper while he heals, with benefits. fwb to lovers with a healthy dose of angst but has a happy ending.
Lessons in Falling e. 87.2k. 6/6. sakusa resists from falling in love with atsumu because he believes his family is cursed with falling out of love and dysfunctional relationships. atsumu is so tooth-rottingly sweet and patient while waiting for sakusa to make peace with his family. gripping prose and tension. one of my favorites <3
iwaoi
thrilled by the still of your hand t. 2.6k. iwa and bokuto arm wrestle. that's it, that's the fic. and oikawa kisses iwa but that comes later.
tattoo your name across my heart g. 5.4k. iwa drunkenly gets oikawa's name tattooed on his arm. SO CUTE. SO FLUFFY. augh my heart, they love each other so much.
Even here, there is light t. 11.4k. single dad oikawa finding love in iwa. oikawa's son is so lovely in this, along with their love.
come get me, come love me m. 20.7k. oikawa is invited to a wedding upon his return to japan and comes face to face with his ex, iwa, after several years. a lovely, lovely fic of coming back together <3
Learning to Walk (So That We Can Run) m. 27.6k. oikawa's knee isn't healing the way it's supposed to be, thus a long journey of getting surgery and enduring the rehab that follows. iwa is with him every step of the way.
bokuaka
and i have never felt so bright t. 16.5k. 5 times akaashi told himself not to be selfish in life and 1 time he decided to. the 2nd chapter blew me away with the domestic details and eventual getting together. such a sweet fic.
down, boy e. 87.8k. 15/15. think of sakuatsu's terminal curiosity but bokuaka. that's all i can really say without being too detailed, other than it's slow burn with a lot of spice.
sunaosa
check out all the wonderful works from the sunaosa autumn gift exchange that were revealed in november! there's lots to read and fanart to see <3
the universe called and said we're soulmates t. 3.8k. suna starts dreaming of his relationship with osamu in different universes. so sweet and beautiful!
two drinks t. 4k. suna falls head over heels with the barista to the point that he orders coffee every time he sees him. except he doesn't like coffee. absolutely hilarious!
moonlight e. 5.5k. emotional spice featuring suna having low self-esteem and osamu wanting to show him that he's loved. beautiful, with so much affection from osamu to suna.
stop me if you’ve heard this one before… g. 6.4k. osamu is a dumbass and keeps forgetting about relationship milestones and suna just finds it amusing. find yourself a partner that finds your forgetfulness endearing like suna, seriously.
god in jeans t. 22.4k. atsumu accidentally kicks a god's shrine and ends up indebted to them - i.e. suna. outsider pov watching suna and osamu fall in love despite suna's god status, with a healthy amount of angst and an eventual happy ending.
drowning in gravity m. 24.1k. exes to fwb to lovers. suna being emotionally constipated, osamu being patient but also impatient...combine all that together and you get angst with a happy ending.
other
And flowers bloom in his wake g. 10.6k. kurodai. modern magic au where everyone has a unique ability and daichi's ability is that flowers grow where he walks and kuroo makes it his personal mission to protect those flowers (and fall in love in the process).
know what a river can be g. 13.6k. oikawa-centric. a character study of oikawa's time overseas to pursue his volleyball career with bodies of water as the main motif. beautiful prose with an uplifting ending.
Point Break t. 18.3k. daisuga. the karasuno 3rd years undergo the most ridiculous heist of all time. HILARIOUS. so cute and endearing as well, and so, so dumb. on-point prose, pining, and getting together. one of my favorites this month <3
heaven's here, it's right where you're standing t. 47.2k. 8/8. kuroken. kenma, a cancer survivor, moves to a small seaside town for a change of pace and meets kuroo, the local science teacher and volleyball coach. slowburn romance with perhaps one of the best twists that i have ever read.
Making a Home g. 106.3k. 27/27. arankita. kita is a foster parent whose license is about to expire when he's given the miya twins to foster, after they've been passed from one abusive household to the next. a beautiful story of found family and love.
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dailynnt · 6 months ago
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FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE
⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.
⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader
⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.
⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+
⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤
⊹ 📘 Number of part: 14/30
⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words. Tags will be added as the story is written.
⊹👩🏼‍💻 From the author: It's supposed to be a Christmas present. However, I thought that there were some unpleasant things in this part, so it should not be a gift 🫢 That's why I'm posting it now! Let me know what you think of this part 😶🤗
⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs . You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you very much and love you🥰💜
⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!
⊹ 📋 Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)
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≣ Chapter Index ↓
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Part 14. A gift for Christmas.
Jungkook holds out his hands to you. In one of them is a bottle of plain water, and in the other he holds pills. You take the water and the pills with a small smile and take them. Jungkook watches you carefully.
"Thank you." - You say briefly, smiling again as you swallow the water and the pill. Jungkook smiles back. You stare at the water bottle as if it were too interesting to start any kind of dialog. You feel awkwardly. From everything: the fight, the sex that happened after of it, and the fact that you take birth control pill to avoid getting pregnant by your best friend.
You see Jungkook's fingers grabbing the bottle and placing it on the spesial board near the seats. You look up at your friend and see his satisfied expression. You look at him awkwardly. Jungkook leans over and kisses you on the lips. He puts one hand on your cheek, and you reflexively put yours on top.
He kisses you without his tongue. Carefully, gently, tasting your plump lips. You are enjoying this moment as much as he is. You seem to be the one who does not want to return to the previous dialog and situation. You wish this moment could happen as late as possible.
However, you can't kiss forever. Jungkook pulls away from your lips, but he doesn't moves away and strokes your cheek with his thumb.
"How are you feeling?" - He asks gently.
"Apart from the fact that I can barely sit up, I'm fine." - You say plaintively, but you smile. This makes Jungkook laugh. He fixes the hair that is falling over your face.
"I'm sorry, baby. I warned you. But you didn't listen to me, and you asked me to make you scream. You know I keep my word." - Jungkook argues cheerfully. He leans down once more and kisses you on the lips. Then he lets you in and starts the engine. You need to get back to the hotel.
The car drives almost silently. Jungkook is watching the road, darting his eyes between the mirrors. You are silent for a while and you don't know if you should start talking again. You are afraid that you might fight again. But the question is still open. You haven't decided what to do about the fact that Jungkook is hiding everything from you.
"Jungkook." - You call his name to get his attention.
"Yeah, honey?" - He turns his head to you, but continues to watch the situation on the road.
"I want coffee, can we stop somewhere to buy some?" - You ask. You suddenly feel like drinking a whole glass of flavored cappuccino.
"Sure. I'll buy you one. Do you want just coffee or something to eat?" - Jungkook asks with concern.
"No. Just coffee." - You reply shortly.
"No problem." - Jungkook says and re-routes the car to the nearest coffee shop.
The car pulled up smoothly to the cafe-drive in a Japanese Starbucks and stopped at the order window, and Jungkook bought two cups of cappuccino. One for you with syrup amaretto and cinnamon, and one for himself without any additives.
After receiving the two hot cups, you finally headed to the hotel. The aroma of coffee filled the car. Jungkook threw his drink on the holder between the seats. When you received yours, your palms immediately warmed up from the pleasant warmth. You took a small sip, and the sweet taste of the amaretto mixed with the spicy note of cinnamon, causing you to smile faintly.
No matter how much you tried to delay the moment, it was worth talking. You decide that you need to find a compromise in this situation, because Jungkook wants you not to be angry with him. And you're also exhausted because of the constant fights you've been having.
"Kook..." - You call out to him again. But this time you don't wait for him to speak. You get straight to the point. "Let's decide what to do now. I want everything to be good between us. We've been fighting a lot lately and I don't like it..." - You start to speak.
You see Jungkook lightly raise his eyebrows and bite his lips again, mocking his piercing. He holds the steering wheel tightly with one hand and reaches for the cappuccino glass with the other and takes a sip. “Here's the deal. You don't have to tell me anything more about yourself. I promise I won't ask you anything else. If you want to tell me something, I will always be here for you. But in turn, I will also stop sharing anything with you. I will tell you exactly what I think is necessary." - Finally, you finish and take a sip of coffee, tasting the apricot and cinnamon on your tongue.
You feel a look on your face. Jungkook turned to you and looked at you intently. You looked into his eyes with determination. You stared at each other for a few seconds, as if in an unequal fight.
"It doesn't work that way, baby." - He says turning back to the road. You protest at his words.
"What do you mean? Why? It seems to be the only way we don't fight." - You complain, trying to hold back the emotions that instantly fill you.
"Because they're different things." - He says softly, but you know he's serious. You are puzzled and furrow your brows.
"I don't see the difference." - You say with protest in your voice. "If you're not going to say anything, I won't either. Either we're both honest, or we're both keeping our secrets to ourselves."
Jungkook brakes the car at a traffic light. He braked too late and drove over the line, so he can't see the traffic light itself. He leans over the steering wheel to see when the light turns green.
"I'll know everything about you anyway, even if you don't tell me anything." - He says in a casual voice while continuing to stare at the traffic light.
"What do you mean?" - You didn't understand. "You're going to spy on me? Then what makes you better than Doohoon?" - Jungkook looked at you for a moment, and you could see him burning with irritation, and then he turned back. The light turned green and he continued to drive.
"I'm not going to spy on you. But you should know that this is bullshit - Doohoon won't let you go that easily. I'm just going to stay by your side as much as I can." - Jungkook states. You laugh ironically. Yeah. Of course you are. ‘As much as I can.’ He's lying again.
"As you wish." - You say. "But I think it's best this way. You keep quiet and I keep quiet. You talk and I talk." - You repeat this and assure him that it will not be any different. You are silent for a long few seconds, and your voice breaks the silence once again. "What do you say, dear?" - You smile sweetly. Jungkook takes a sip of coffee and sees you smiling sweetly. He knows you and you are a sly fox. But is he going to promise you the truth again and then break it? If he does, the consequences could be worse than the fight yesterday and today. He thinks and makes decisions. He will do his best not to hide anything, but he will also do his best to keep you safe.
"What do you want?" - Jungkook asks you to clarify your opinion. "Do you want us to share everything or not tell anything?"
"I want us to talk to each other and share everything without exception. Because that's what I've been doing all along. But if that doesn't work for you and you realize that you can't do that, we should respect each other's personal space." - You still leave the choice to Jungkook. He thinks about it a little longer and finally agrees.
"Okay. Let's be honest with each other." - He says, but you can't believe your ears. You thought for sure he would want to keep quiet.
"Really?" - You ask again, still in disbelief. Jungkook smiled.
"Yes. I'll try to be as open with you as I was before." - Jungkook promises, and your heart flutters. Yes. He used to share everything with you. Back then, you got along so well and never fought.
You can't control yourself with joy. You move over quickly and kiss his lips. Jungkook is holding the wheel and is slightly dazed by your desire to kiss him. You kiss only his sweet silken lips. You put gratitude into this quick moment.
You sit up straight, and Jungkook drives the car as if mesmerized, with a puzzled expression on his face. What was that? Did he just feel butterflies in his stomach? Fuck...
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The sun has already set. There was only an hour left before the Christmas party started. You were almost ready, you just had to put on some lipstick and get dressed. You decided that you would do your own makeup because you didn't want to paint your face too much. Your hairstyle would be simple long waves that would cascade over your shoulders. Now your hair has been pinned up high, and before you go out you will style it properly.
You decided that dark evening makeup with a little eyeliner and brown and gold eyeshadow would work best with your dress. You remembered that you had a wonderful matte brown-caramel lipstick. It was somewhere in your backpack, separated from all the other makeup products.
Before you arrived at the hotel, you remembered that you hadn't bought shoes and tights. You had a coat that you could wear over this dress. It's not a problem that it's cold today because you'll only be outside for a few minutes, you don't want to get cold. So when you talked, you told Jungkook that you needed more clothes and of course he bought them for you.
You left the bathroom and went to your bedroom. You found your backpack lying on the chair and started rummaging through it. You didn't hear Jungkook come in. He walked over to you and watched you desperately trying to find something.
"Will you help me?" - You heard your friend's voice. You looked at him and froze at his appearance.
He was dressed in a black shirt that was buttoned up except for the throat. He wore a vest over it. Black classic pants and a leather belt around his waist. He was wearing socks and no shoes, later on it’s would be some kind of patent leather shoes or something like that. His hair was parted in a parting on his head. His hair had volume, and the strands from his bangs fell nicely to the sides. He looked damn hot in that totall-black look.
Jungkook noticed you staring at him and smiled playfully at you. You continued to look for your lipstick in your backpack in embarrassment.
"With what?" - You asked as you continued your search. Jungkook couldn't get enough of your reaction. His ego rose higher.
"Help me put on my tie." - He asked with a smile on his lips. You realized that this was going to be a moment of mockery and praise of your friend's appearance.
You put down your backpack and turned to Jungkook. He was smiling slyly and looking at your beautiful face. You took the tie from his hands, lifted the collar of his shirt, and threw it over his head. Jungkook tilted his head so that you could comfortably throw the tie over it.
While you were fiddling with the button and the collar, your friend was looking at your makeup. Black arrows on top of brown and gold eyeshadow, lush mascara lashes, blush. All that was missing was lipstick. You will put it on your lips, but Jungkook thought you didn't need it because you were already beautiful. He also noticed that your blush that was caused by his look.
"Are you blushing because of my beauty?" - Jungkook asks you playfully. You roll your eyes to your forehead, which makes your friend laugh out loud. He steals his arms around your waist and pulls you closer.
"Jungkook! You're making it hard to tie it properly." - You protest, but you don't mind the closeness. The main thing is that he doesn't forget to close the door this time.
"I'm really so handsome, maybe you're already wet just looking at me?" - Jungkook purrs. God, he shouldn't talk about your wetness. Because you need to get ready, time is running out.
"Shut your mouth, Jeon!" - You say angrily.
"Shall we test it?" - He asks, and his hand is already hiding under your robe. But you manage to intercept his hand, stopping to tie his tie.
"Don't even think about checking anything right now. Because if I don't get ready in time, you'll be explaining to everyone why we're late." - You warn him. You hold his hand with yours, but Jungkook doesn't think to stop. He pushes his hand harder so that you can't hold him.
"No problem. I'll explain." - He says in a low voice. You're already really getting wet at his tone. But you won't be having sex again tonight. And definitely not right now.
"Are you really that insatiable?" - You ask seriously. Your hand tightens on Jungkook's arm. He's stronger than you, he could get to where he wants to go in one go. But you don't have time for another round, so you hold him as tight as you can. "Seriously, Jungkook. We don't have time for this. And you're not so handsome anymore that I'm wetting over the sight of you in a black shirt." - You say mockingly. Jungkook hears you say this and grabs your buttocks with his free hand. His fingers dig into your skin, creating a pleasant pressure. You are caught off guard.
"You like to provoke me so much." - He said, almost against your lips. "When did you become such a liar?" - Jungkook smiles. He's went too far, you're really leaking now. You will have to change your panties. But you can't tell Jungkook, because for some reason you think if you do, he'll fuck you on this bed behind you.
"When have I ever lied to you?" - You ask in surprise. Your surprise is not real. "I'm serious. I still have to put on my dress, shoes, and lipstick. It's time-consuming." - Not to mention you need to change new panties. Jungkook doesn't seem to hear you.
He ignores your protests and touches his lips to your neck. You freeze from the warmth of his lips. His gentle kisses all over your neck make you tingle. He releases his hand that you were holding and pulls open the robe that covers your neck and chest. He pulls away from your skin and sees how you've skillfully disguised the hickeys he left on you today during sex in the car.
"Did you use foundation?" - Jungkook asks as he touches the hickeys.
"Yes. You're lucky I had concealer, otherwise I'd have been don’t go at best." - You lament. Jungkook runs his nose along your jawline, inhaling the scent of your skin. He's intoxicated by the light scent of cherry blossom he inhales. It's probably it because it's a very popular scent in Japan. After a shower, your skin still holds that scent.
"Maybe you didn't need to disguise it?" - He murmurs into your neck. He caresses your jaws with his nose, then gently kisses your neck with one lip. You tilted your head slightly so that Jungkook could have good access to your neck. You closed your eyes, enjoying his caressing lips.
"What do you mean?" - You grumble. "Did you want everyone to see that I was marked? You even left them on my chest so big that my dress barely will covers them." - You said with reproach, but gently.
"So what? Then everyone will know that you belong to me." - He says, stopping kissing your neck. You open your eyes and see his face a few centimeters away. You smile.
"Do you want everyone to know that I belong to you? Your friends will be most interested in when exactly I began to belong to you." - You say sweetly. You're happy to think that Jungkook wants to tell everyone that you're his. But you're not even his girlfriend. You're his friend. Or who you are to him right now?
Jungkook was upset and you saw it. He let go of your buttocks and put his hands on your waist.
"Sometimes your mouth..." - He says, a little offended. You laugh and raise your hands to your tie. You have to finish what you started, find your lipstick, and finally get dressed. Time was running out.
Jungkook really felt bad. He thought you were too beautiful today. It was annoying, because there would definitely be some dick who would stare at you. It pisses him off that someone's bullshit eyes will be evaluating you. He wants to be the only one who can see your beauty. He wishes you could be hidden from the world. Jungkook wants you to belong only to him. Damn it, and you're hasn't worn that dress yet. He remembered the neckline and was worried about whether you'd freeze in it.
You finished with the tie and Jungkook let you go. He sat down on the bed, and you started rummaging through your backpack again.
"What are you looking for?" - He asked.
"Lipstick. I had it here somewhere." - You searched and couldn't find it. It made you mad. You turned your backpack over and dumped all the contents on the bed.
The lipstick fell out and you saw it. Grabbing it in your hands, you saw a black box containing a gift for Jungkook. You had completely forgotten about her with all the drama that had happened in the last few days. You picked it up and looked at Jungkook. He, who had been watching you all this time, understood what you were trying to do.
"Jungkook." - You said softly. You walked over to him with the gift in your hands and standing in front of him. "I completely forgot, It’s good that I went to find mylipstick." - You held out your hand with a beautiful black box with a golden bow. "Merry Christmas." - You said. Jungkook stared at the gift box in your hand. He didn't expect you to have a present for him. Even though you give him gifts every year for Christmas. Why did he forget about it now? He also had a gift for you, but he planned to give it to you after the party.
"What have you got for me this time?" - He asks. He sounds excited. Jungkook looked at you, then picked up the box. His fingers briefly touched your hands, and this simple touch made your heart speed up slightly.
"Something that will always remind you of me." - You say with a shy smile. Jungkook looks at you while opening the box. You'd better not be so cute, or he'll be unable to contain himself, and to hell with everyone waiting for you two.
Finally, when Jungkook unboxes the gift, he sees what it is. Inside was a Calvin Klein watch. The black dial with thin golden hands and minimalist design matched his style perfectly.
"Is this... a watch?" - He asked, but his voice sounded more confused than questioning. He took it out of the box and held it carefully in his hands as if it were some kind of precious treasure.
"It's a limited edition…" - You explained. "I thought you should like it." - Jungkook looked at you, his eyes full of something deeper than gratitude. He looked at his watch again and then back at you.
"Are you serious?" - He whispered.
"Seriously." - You nodded. "You're going to wear it and think of me every time. Not just once a day to find out where I've been and what I've been doing." - You couldn't help but hit Jungkook. But he ignored your words and put the watch down next to him and pulled you close. He sat you on one of his legs and kissed you gently on the lips.
"Thank you." - He said quietly, his voice sounding a little hoarse. "This is the best gift I've ever received." - He kissed you again. "I have something for you too, but I was planning to give it to you after the party." - Jungkook admitted.
"Then you should do that. I have to hurry." - You say, getting off his lap and heading to the bathroom.
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A Christmas party organized by Jimin's friend takes place in a luxurious restaurant in Niseko, in the heart of the Japanese Alps. This place has an unforgettable view - the huge windows offer a panorama of snow-capped mountains and winter landscapes, creating a magical atmosphere.
Your entire company arrives at the restaurant on time. All the guys are very handsome. Jungkook, whose image you've already seen, has completed his outfit with a black jacket with silver snaps and matching patent black loafers. Your gift, a limited edition watch, fit perfectly on his wrist.
Jimin wore a dark green velvet jacket, a black shirt, and similar black pants with perfect arrows. His look was completed with patent leather shoes.
Taehyung chose a navy blue suit made of velvet fabric and a burgundy shirt. His look was complemented by a bow tie.
Hoseok chose a more relaxed style: a striped jacket with gold accents, a black turtleneck, and stylish boots.
Jin wore a white and silver suit with a thin chain around his neck.
When they all saw you, they just started complimenting you. You wore a champagne-colored dress with a neckline and train. It hugged your figure in a perfect way, making you look very attractive and beautiful. On your feet, you put on high golden heels with thin straps, the same ones you with Jungkook came back for. They were in perfect harmony with the jewelry on your wrist and ears.
Jungkook almost boiled over when he saw the looks on all his friends' faces. God, he only had to endure only one evening.
Inside the restaurant, everything was elegant and sophisticated: marble floors, stylish furniture, luxurious tables covered with white tablecloths with gold patterns. People in expensive evening dresses are talking and laughing, and the air is filled with the light scent of fresh flowers and festive food. The music playing in the background creates an atmosphere of relaxation and festivity, slightly drowning out the conversations.
You feel uncomfortable. This is all so pretentious for you. You've never been to an event like this before and it's definitely not the kind of community you're used to being in.
Jungkook was walking next to you, and you were holding his elbow. You looked at him and saw how serious he was, and most importantly, how calm he was. He felt your gaze and smiled slightly.
"It's like we're in a movie." - You said with a smile.
"Why?" - Jungkook laughs. Yes, in a movie, and in the crime genre.
"Because it's so pretentious. I've only seen it in movies." - You admit. Jungkook laughs even harder.
"It's all because of Jimin. He has almost all his friends like that." - Jungkook says.
"He's such a simple guy. I would never have thought he would hang out with people like that." - You say. Just then, Jimin, who was a few steps ahead of you, turns to you two.
"Let's go meet and greet Kazuhiro Yamada." - He says to the two of you.
Yamada was a middle-aged man with cold, attentive eyes, dressed in a stylish black suit. His presence in the room instantly attracts attention. All the guys greeted Kazuhiro warmly, with the exception of you and Jungkook. Jungkook had never met the man in person, but he knew what kind of person he was from his friends.
You were introduced and you acted as confident as you could. But all these people around you, and especially Kazuhiro himself, made you feel tense inside.
Kazuhiro complimented you after unceremoniously looking you up and down. You thanked him shyly, squeezing Jungkook's elbow tighter. He, in turn, was holding back his emotions as best he could. So he the first dick to openly devour you with his eyes. Jimin, seeing Jungkook's eyes, decided to calm his friend down.
"Yes, she is indeed a beautiful Kazuhiro. She's Jungkook's fiancée." - Jungkook was taken aback, but since he was a professional at keeping his emotions in check, his face didn't show any confusion, which is more than you can say. You opened your mouth, but almost instantly closed it.
"Really?" - Yamada asked. "What a pity I don't have a chance." - Kazuhiro said with feigned disappointment. He spoke Korean well, by the way. Although everyone else spoke to him in Japanese, including Jimin, only when it came to introducing you and Jungkook did they switch to Korean. You blushed again, and Jungkook's jaw muscles pulsed.
"Yes. You don't stand a chance, dickhead," - Jungkook thought. But he just smiled tensely without saying anything. He looked at Jimin in mental gratitude. Jimin winked at Jungkook.
After you were introduced, champagne was served and you and Jungkook went to Taehyung and Hoseok’s place. The guys were talking to each other and you were just looking around. Sometimes you would hear broken phrases like "they have to convince him", "we have a better position", "the appointment time is tomorrow".
The music was loud and interrupted the general din. Your eyes ran over the people around you. The women were dressed up and wore expensive jewelry. Men in stylish suits look businesslike. There are also young people around your age, even children.
You look around at these people and catch a few studying glances. You feel very nervous and uncomfortable. You wonder why these people invited Jimin. And how did you end up here?
Some more time passes. New guests arrive at the restaurant. They all go to greet the host of the party first, and then disperse around the room. As you take another sip of champagne, you notice the new guests. You cannot believe what you are seeing.
Doohoon is wearing an expensive dark brown suit with a chain. His hair is perfectly styled, very similar to Jungkook's. He is walking hand in hand with a girl. She is tall, but despite the fact that she is wearing heels, she is still shorter than Doohoon. Her figure is perfectly emphasized by a black silk dress with a deep V-neck and an open back. A thin string of stones stretched from her neck to her waist. It was clear that she was Korean.
Doohoon immediately caught your eye. When you made eye contact, he immediately put on that awful, stupid smile you had come to hate.
You reflexively grabbed Jungkook's sleeve, unconsciously seeking protection. Jungkook looked up from his conversation and saw that you were scared. He followed your gaze and his anger knew no bounds. The asshole is here. But what puzzled Jungkook the most was the girl walking next to Doohoon. He looked at her and couldn't understand why she was here. What the hell this girl do there?
Doohoon and his companion greeted Yamada. You could see Jimin and Jin, who were standing next to Kazuhiro Yamada, staring at Doohoon. He shook hands with them in a low-key greeting. You turned away the moment you realized that Doohoon and his girlfriend were heading towards you.
"Jungkook, he seems to be coming to us." - You turned to your friend and saw that he was staring at them almost without blinking. You raised your eyebrows wondering what was going on.
"What an unexpected meeting, isn't it?" - You heard Doohoon's voice behind you. You had been looking at Jungkook the whole time. You noticed that he was looking at someone.
When you turned to know who he was looking at, you realized that he was looking at the girl in the black dress. She was also looking only at Jungkook. Their gazes made you feel nauseous and your heart beat faster.
"Well, hello, champ." - She says casually. You feel like you've been struck by lightning. What did she just call him?
Jungkook doesn't react to her words or greet her back. He stares at her a little longer and then turns his gaze to Doohoon. Taehyung and Hoseok, who were nearby, watched quietly.
"What a thing to do. To fly so many miles from Korea and see the same faces." - Doohoon says. You look at him with disdain. "Hello, candy. It's good to see you." - You want to snap back at him for calling you that again, but Jungkook interrupts you.
"What's she doing here with you?" - He asks dryly. You freeze at the sound of his voice. It's so hard and cold.
"Do you see how round the world is, my friend? Ha Young was once your girlfriend, but now she's my companion." - Doohoon says casually. You're shocked. This girl is Jungkook's ex? No wonder he's looking at her like that. But why the hell is she here with Doohoon?
"I asked, why is she here?" - Jungkook asks irritated. His eyes are filled with pure anger.
"That's not nice, Jungkook. Where are your manners?" - For the second time, Doohoon ignores Jungkook's question. "Candy, I'd like you to meet Ha-young, she's my friend. Ha Young is Y/N, she's a friend of mine and Jungkook's from school." - The two of you finally make eye contact. You look at her indifferently, and she looks at you with interest.
"Nice to meet you." - She says sweetly as she extends her hand to you. You stare at her hand for a few seconds and don’t shake it.
"I can't say the same." - Ha Young smiles and takes her hand away. "Are you spying on us Doohoon again?" - Now your eyes are on your former friend. "You couldn't just wait until Jungkook and I got back to Korea. Why did you fly all the way here?" - You said gloatingly. Taehyung and Hosuk look at each other, this conversation could end badly.
Doohoon laughs at your words. He looks down at the floor and then back up at you.
"Sweetie, I actually flew to Japan to work and establish relationships with partners and oversee the transportation of very valuable devices. Because I have information that someone is trying to steal them." - He says and looks at Jungkook. Jungkook can barely control himself. That fucking bastard. He will strangle him with his own hands. He knows why Jungkook is here and will try to stop him from taking the devices. But it was this bastard who stole them from him.
You watch this with your eyes and feel the tension cover you all. You can almost physically feel it. Just in time, Hoseok intervenes and stands between Doohoon and Jungkook.
"Hey Doohoon, why don't you just go and enjoy the party?" - Hoseok suggests. Doohoon looks over at Hoseok.
"Yeah, buddy, it looks like we're not going to have a normal dialog. Have a nice evening." - Doohoon says to all of you. "Ha Young, let's go." - He calls his girlfriend and leaves. Jungkook also turns around and wants to leave, but his ex stops him. She grabs his arm and he stops. You see this and think you're going to die of jealousy, but your face is emotionless.
"Kook... I'd like to talk to you." - She says in the sweetest voice in the world. You feel yourself start to tremble. Your heart is beating against your chest with incredible force.
Jungkook pulls his hand out almost instantly. He turns and looks at his ex.
"We have nothing to talk about." - He says coldly.
"There are." - She replies desperately. "I wish I could explain to you why I'm here." - She says in a desperate voice. You watch this picture and think you've had enough. You want to leave. Too bad the only way is through them. When you pass Jungkook, he's the one who grabs your hand. You stop when he doesn't let you go. You look at him and your eyes radiate anger and irritation.
"Don't move away from Taehyung and Hoseok." - Jungkook orders you. This confirms that he is going to talk to his ex-girlfriend after all. You pull your hand out and say aggressively.
"I don't need bodyguards. I can take care of myself. Make fun to talk." - That's the last thing you say and you walk away. Jungkook wants to follow you. He can't leave you alone knowing that Doohoon is so close. It doesn't matter that there are many people here, he will be able to hurt you if Jungkook is not there. Just as he's about to follow you, Hoseok stops him.
"Talk. We'll be there for her." - He taps Jungkook on the shoulder and he and Taehyung leave Jungkook with Ha Young.
You walk quickly and don't see anyone in front of you. You're overcome with anger, jealousy, and abuse. How did this piece of shit get here? Is he really some kind of stalker? Shay brought Jungkook's ex. Of course, in typical Jungkook fashion, you know nothing about her. She's beautiful, and Jungkook such looked at her that way. Did he really love her? Why did they break up? Could there still be feelings between them? These thoughts tore at your head. You wanted to go somewhere. Somewhere no one could see or hear you.
Before you knew it, you were at the bar. You sit down on a stool. You think you should get drunk. It might make things easier. Hoseok and Taehyung stayed in the hall. They decided that they would watch you from a short distance.
You ordered a cocktail with strong sake at the bar and drank it in one gulp. The bartender who made the cocktail for you was shocked.
"One more!" - You say in Japanese. The sake is strong and you instantly feel the alcohol spreading throughout your body. You decide to drink the next one more slowly. When you get another cocktail, you savor it slowly. You're glad that Hoseok or Taehyung didn't sit down with you. You really want to be alone.
You take your phone out of your purse and scroll through your Instagram feed. You think about posting a couple of stories and photos to your profile and showing off the local beauty of Niseko. Some time has passed.
Your phone distracted you because you didn't notice someone sitting next to you. When you turned your head a little to the side, you saw someone sitting next to you with a peripheral vision. Doohoon. He's sitting next to you again. No one is around except the bartender who hands him a shot of whiskey.
"Grieve, candy?" - He asks with a sweet smile. You are a little nervous about his presence. You're scared, because this man has been watching you. Why he always somehow ends up in the same place as you? You look around at the people and try to find someone familiar among them. But all your friends are gone. Jungkook is nowhere to be seen either.
"You shouldn't look for your friends. Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you." - Your ex-friend says with care in his voice. He says it so sincerely that you believe him for a moment. But in reality, it's not his words that make you relax. It's the thought that there are a lot of people here, people such people in front of whom Doohoon will not even touch you with a finger.
"I'm not afraid of you. I've never been afraid of you. You know damn well I can kick your ass." - You say colorlessly. Doohoon laughs. He takes a sip of whiskey and sets the glass down on the bar.
"I know." - He says. Doohoon is silent for a few more seconds and then his voice cuts through the silence. "You're such a beautiful tonight." - He says dreamily. You look at him sharply. You don't need his compliments.
"What do you want?" - You ask tiredly. "Why did you follow me and Jungkook?"
"I felt like I had to." - Doohoon replies, and you don't understand what he's talking about.
"What do you mean?" - You ask another question to understand what he's saying. Doohoon remains silent. He looks at the glass of whiskey in his hand and then raises it to his lips and takes a few small sips.
"Does he fuck you well?" - He throws out his question instead of answering yours. You're stunned and frozen. You remain silent, not wanting to answer him. It is absolutely none of his business.
"I think you like it. I know what all the girls who had sex with him said. Every single one of them says he's amazing in bed." - Doohoon says, laughter escaping his lips. "His ex, Ha Young, told me that too. She said no one ever fucked her better than him." - You hear these words and your insides tingle. Your internal organs feel like they're being stirred with a spoon. It becomes difficult to breathe. Why is this idiot telling you all this? You decide not to say anything in response. Because it seems that if you open your mouth, you'll vomit on Doohoon from the anger and jealousy that's making your head spin. You cover your mouth with the cocktail.
"Y/N!" - Doohoon calls to you. You turn your eyes to him. "I wasn't stalking you. I've liked you since high school. That's why when I found out you were living with Jungkook, I was scared for you." - He says. You again freeze, but this time at his words. You think you're crazy or something. Does Doohoon like you? Since high school? It can't be! And why is he scared of you living with Jungkook? Because he's afraid you're in love with Jungkook and he doesn't have a chance?
"Why are you scared?" - You ask, ignoring his confession of affection. He laughs bitterly because he noticed that you didn't say anything about it. You're always thinking about your Jungkook. Then he will tell you who your "best friend" really is.
"He's got you so blinded by good sex that you can't see what kind of person he is. He is so good at hiding who he really is. You have to applaud him for that." - Says Doohoon. "When I found out you were living with him, I thought I would just protect you from a distance. But when I found out you were fucking, I was shocked. I'll be honest with you, my heart was broken. I knew that if you guys were sleeping together now, you might fall in love with Jungkook. But he's dangerous. Because of what he does and who he has become, you could be in danger. Therefore, I decided to appear at this time." - You hear all these words and you can't understand why Jungkook could be dangerous to you. He's your Jungkook. It is Doohoon who is dangerous to you, as Jungkook said, not the other way.
"What the hell are you talking about?" - You get angry. "How is he dangerous to me?" - Doohoon is dramatically silent. He can't wait to see the look on your face when you hear what he has to say.
"Did he tell you what he does for a living?" - Doohoon asks you with fake desperation in his voice.
"He said it's some kind of security service that protects influential people." - You answer. "If you're trying to tell me about the guns, that he uses them, I know. That doesn't make him dangerous to me." - Doohoon is glad you don't know who Jungkook really is. His star time has come. He puts on his most dramatic voice.
"Y/N, he works for the mafia. He's Namjoon's attack dog. The boss of the RUN NOIR clan." - Doohoon says. He sees your eyes and can't get enough of the frightened look in them.
"The mafia?" - You repeat quietly. Doohoon nods to confirm your words. You suddenly laugh. Loud and hysterical. "You. Have you fallen off the wagon, you idiot? What the fuck is the mafia?" - You ask. Doohoon raises his eyebrows.
"Don't you believe it?" - Dohun asks you in turn. "Y/N it's definitely true. I'm telling you. Namjoon is this man who is constantly demanding money from my father. He controls all the transit points and ports. That's why I know it well and I'm telling you for sure. Jungkook is working for Namjoon's clan because them used to come together to extort money from my father." - Doohoon is lying to convince you. You hear the name Namjoon and remember Jimin saying his name on the phone. He called him the boss. Does this mean that Jimin is also working for the mafia?
You instantly put everything together in your head: the guns, the expensive car, the expensive clothes, the expensive hotel with the presidential suite. The constant concealment of the truth, his absence for three years and now almost for days, strange bruises on his body, wounds on his face and hands. All this suggests that Doohoon is telling the truth. And as icing on the cake, you remember Jungkook's words during today's quarrel. "From myself." - He said when you asked him what he was protecting you from by hiding everything about his life.
You couldn't move, unable to say anything. You were so shocked that you were speechless.
"You see everything yourself. He is dangerous to you because he tortures people, extorts money, or worse, kills them." - Says Doohoon . You don't say anything because you don't know what to say. Doohoon touches your hand. Five minutes ago, you would have rejected his hand. But now you sit there completely devastated. This is not what you dream of hearing on Christmas.
"Candy, I have a Christmas present for you. Let me show you." - Doohoon says and takes your hand. You feel like you are in another space.
Doohoon is leading you by the hand between people and no one is paying attention to you. No one sees him leading you somewhere. Not Jimin, not Taehyung, not Hoseok, not Jin. None of them see you next to Doohoon.
You don't know how much time you spend on the road. You just go. When you get to the room, it's the room in front of the toilet, and you see a picture that finally kills you. Through the clear glass of the door to the room, you see Jungkook standing next to his ex-girlfriend. She leans to kiss him. And she did it on your eyes.
"Merry Christmas." - Doohoon whispers in your ear, but you can't hear him. Because the noise in your ears and the frantic beating of your heart drown out any words.
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slytherintrikru · 2 years ago
Text
— || Revenge is Sweet || —
Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x gryffindor!muggleborn!reader (SHE’S OF AGE) 
Word count: 6224
Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 16+, fingering, clit rubbing, cock in Vigina, male and female, adult content, adult language, cuss words, clit licking, degrading, fluff if you squint, pet names, anguish, cheating, heartbreak, revenge, crying, Lucius comforting Y/N?, aftercare, praise, daddy kink, cum swallowing, fluff, out of character Lucius, 2 almost 3 years after the 2nd wizarding war, younger woman with older man, first time together, heated make out session, kissing, hickeys, love bites, SFW if you squint. (SHE IS OF AGE) 
Summary: Y/N wanted to surprise Draco by visiting him at the Malfoy Manor but ended up catching him cheating instead. While leaving she bumps into Lucius Malfoy and things get kinda heated. (SHE’S OF AGE)
Requested: by no one this is my idea 
A/N: Hello, my fellow Dreamers, hope you like this. Please give me your feedback. BTW I also already posted this on my AO3 account @ slytherintrikru.
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Y/N navigated her way up the meandering, earthy path that led to the formidable gates of the Malfoy Manor. These gates, a grand testament to the opulence within, were adorned with wrought-iron craftsmanship that gleamed even in the muted light of dusk. Beyond the gates, a long, majestic driveway, flanked by a procession of ancient trees, guided her toward the mansion's imposing facade. Standing before her, the Malfoy Manor exuded an aura of architectural splendor. Its stately stone walls rose gracefully, adorned with intricate details that whispered of centuries past. Tall, narrow windows punctuated the facade, their panes seeming to conceal secrets within, bestowing upon the house an air of sinister allure.
The estate on which the manor resided was vast and mysterious. A dark forest encroached upon the edges of the property, casting eerie shadows that played hide-and-seek with the waning daylight. In stark contrast to this enigmatic woodland, a lush and meticulously cultivated garden graced the manor's rear, a testament to the Malfoy family's penchant for grandeur and elegance.
With each deliberate step, Y/N's heartbeat quickened. Her trembling hand reached out to rap upon the massive, wooden double doors that guarded the entrance. She couldn't have fathomed that she would ever find herself returning to this nightmarish place, where the echoes of her torment at the hands of Voldemort and his fanatical followers still reverberated in the depths of her memory. It had been two agonizing years since that fateful day when Fenrir Greyback had dragged her through those very doors, her hair pulled viciously as she struggled to match the monstrous pace set by her captor. The same mansion had borne witness to her harrowing encounter with the Dark Lord himself, the malevolent figure who had imprinted the dreaded Death Eater mark upon her left arm—a mark she had desperately sought to eradicate for almost three long years.
The reason for her presence here, despite the haunting memories, was her enduring love for Draco. Three years had passed since the inception of their clandestine relationship, but their bond remained unshaken. Draco's parents, however, were a formidable obstacle in their path. They looked down upon her as a 'filthy Mudblood,' a fact that had never deterred her resolve, so long as Draco stood by her side. Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy had resorted to devious tactics, attempting to buy her loyalty, attempting to pry her away from their son. Their efforts had met with stubborn resistance, leaving them fuming with frustration. On countless occasions, they subjected her to scathing tirades, especially Narcissa, whose cruelty knew no bounds. After a week, Lucius resigned to a sullen silence, but Narcissa's venomous words and occasionally physical aggression persisted as a daily ordeal that Y/N endured with steely determination.
Y/N flinched as the manor door creaked open, her reaction akin to that of someone stumbling into a jinx. Her startled gaze dropped to the floor, where a familiar figure stood. It was Rue, the endearing house elf, a cherished presence in Y/N's life.
"What can Rue do for Draco's lovely girlfriend?" Rue inquired, her lips curving into a warm, welcoming smile.
Y/N couldn't help but smile in return; Rue had always held a special place in her heart. With her bright blue eyes and those endearing pointy ears, Rue exuded an unmistakable charm. Not only did she anticipate Y/N's every need, but she also prepared food and drinks precisely to Y/N's liking. Since the law against elf brutality had been enacted, Y/N had taken it upon herself to ensure Rue's comfort, providing her with clothing. Over the months, Rue had transformed, shedding the weight of servitude to become a happier, more carefree presence.
"I'd like to see Draco, please, Rue," Y/N replied, her voice gentle and careful not to startle the petite house elf.
Rue's smile widened, and with a tiny, reassuring grip on Y/N's hand, she led her inside. As the door closed softly behind them, Rue spoke again, her voice filled with an eagerness to assist. "Master Draco is in his room. Rue will take you."
Y/N hesitated for a moment, a playful idea forming in her mind. "No, no, it's fine. I can go myself. I want to surprise him."
The adorable house elf nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. With a snap of her fingers, she vanished from sight, leaving Y/N to navigate the winding corridors of the Malfoy Manor alone.
Y/N couldn't help but grin at the thought of Rue experiencing a moment of personal indulgence, wondering if the house elf was trying to savor the pleasures she had missed in her life of servitude. With that pleasant thought, Y/N embarked on her ascent up the many flights of wooden stairs that led to the upper reaches of the manor. Her footsteps echoed softly through the hallway as she made her way toward Draco's room.
As she arrived at her destination, Y/N came to an abrupt halt, her senses keenly attuned to an unexpected sound emanating from behind Draco's door. She strained her ears, desperately hoping it wasn't a case of accidentally stumbling upon an intimate moment between Lucius and Narcissa. A glance at the door's label confirmed it was indeed Draco's room, and then she heard it again.
Moans.
Specifically, the unmistakable sounds of male and female moans. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she leaned closer to the door, attempting to confirm what she dreaded most. She heard his name, Draco's name, whimpered from a female voice within, a voice that sent shockwaves through her.
Her blood ran cold, her heart rate spiked, and tears welled up in her eyes. Y/N prayed it wasn't true, that Draco wasn't betraying her. She cautiously pushed the door open, her movements silent as she observed the heart-wrenching scene before her. Draco, lost in passion, buried his face in Astoria Greengrass's neck, his vigorous thrusts filling the room.
Their eyes met, Y/N's and Astoria's, in a moment of cruel recognition. Astoria's smirk seemed to taunt Y/N, as if declaring, 'He's mine now, you filthy Mudblood.' With a heavy heart, Y/N gently closed the door, tears streaming down her face. She turned and fled down the hallway, down the stairs, without a care for her surroundings or the possibility of colliding with someone.
Tears flowed freely as Y/N reached the bottom of the stairs, her heart shattering into a million pieces. Her cries escaped in a heartbreaking crescendo, echoing through the manor's grandeur. In her distraught state, she collided with an unexpected presence, teetering dangerously on the brink of falling backward. However, strong arms enveloped her, steadying her in her moment of despair.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing, girl?" The voice, dripping with disdain, hissed through the tense air. Y/N's heart lurched at the sound, her gut telling her it was all too familiar. As her tear-blurred gaze lifted, she was met with the sight of a thoroughly baffled and irate Lucius Malfoy, his aristocratic features etched with a mix of anger and confusion. Her own expressive eyes, a mesmerizing shade of E/C, locked onto his cold, steely gray ones.
Blinking away the tears that blurred her vision, she stared at the formidable pureblood wizard who stood before her. Their eye contact held an unspoken tension, a connection fraught with history and complex emotions. It was in that moment that Y/N noticed something she hadn't expected in Lucius – concern. The realization was like a jolt, sending a shiver down her spine.
Concern?
It couldn't be right, could it? Why on earth would Lucius Malfoy, of all people, be concerned about her well-being? Y/N hesitated, her hand instinctively rising to wipe her eyes once more, as if questioning her own senses, wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her. But the look in Lucius's eyes remained, a glimmer of unexpected humanity in the formidable man who had long been an enigma to her.
"Are you going to speak, or just stand there like a dumb-witted Mudblood?" Lucius's words, laced with venom, cut through the heavy silence. Y/N turned away from him, hurt etched in her eyes, his cruel words piercing her heart. In that moment, the gap between them seemed insurmountable.
Lucius, however, couldn't ignore the pain he had inadvertently caused, and for a fleeting second, remorse tugged at his conscience. Yet, his pride prevailed, and instead of apologizing, he pressed further, his tone demanding answers. "What's wrong with you, girl?"
Y/N pulled herself away from him, a mixture of emotions welling up inside her. She hesitated for a moment, then her voice trembled as she questioned him, "W-Why do y-you care?"
The unexpected vulnerability in her voice caught Lucius off guard, and a flicker of something uncharacteristic passed through his stormy gray eyes. He blocked her path as she attempted to move past him, their proximity intensifying the tension between them. "Just because we got off to the wrong foot when we first met doesn't mean I'm the same person I was before," he hissed, a rare hint of vulnerability seeping into his words. "Now tell me what's wrong, or I'll use Legilimency on you."
Her defenses crumbling, Y/N couldn't hold back the flood of emotion any longer. The words tumbled out of her, her voice wavering as she confessed, "Your son cheated on me with Astoria, that's what happened." She glanced away, bracing herself for the judgment she anticipated. "You're probably happy that he's not with a filthy Mudblood like me anymore. I'll just—"
"He did what?!" Lucius's voice reverberated through the manor, his anger palpable as it resounded against the walls. Y/N glanced at him, a puzzled expression on her face. She couldn't comprehend why he would be so furious that his son, Draco, had cheated on her—a Mudblood—with a pureblood. Lucius Malfoy had never harbored any warmth toward Y/N, so this sudden outburst was baffling. She had always assumed that Draco's parents would be delighted if something like this were to happen.
Lucius's voice, filled with indignation, interrupted her thoughts once more. "How dare that boy break someone's heart instead of just telling you that he wants to end the relationship. I raised him to treat women with respect. Even if the girl is a filthy Mudblood!"
Y/N frowned, her gaze drifting downward to her feet, unable to meet Lucius's eyes. His words were laden with a complex mixture of anger, disappointment, and something she couldn't quite fathom.
"Why would you care anyway? You should be happy that he cheated on me. Now he can go marry a pureblood who's more beautiful than me," she muttered bitterly, her self-esteem shattered.
In an unexpected turn of events, the cold metal of the snake handle of Lucius's cane lifted her chin. She blinked in surprise as he swiftly pulled his cane away and grasped her chin roughly with his hand, forcing her to hold eye contact with him.
"Don't ever say those words again. Am. I. Understand, Y/N?" Lucius's voice, though stern, held a strange mixture of concern. She nodded in response, but it seemed that wasn't sufficient for him. He demanded more. "I expect you to answer when I ask you something!"
"Y-Yes, Sir!" she squeaked, her gaze locked onto his features. She couldn't help but notice the commanding presence he exuded, the sharp lines of his jaw, the strength evident in his angular face. His long, platinum blonde hair cascaded gracefully past his shoulders, framing his striking countenance. The blueish-gray eyes that held an air of authority seemed to peer directly into her soul. Y/N's cheeks flushed inexplicably as she found herself momentarily entranced by his striking appearance. ‘He's handsome’, she thought, a realization that seemed to take her by surprise.
Y/N's unspoken admiration for Lucius had been a well-guarded secret, a silent confession her heart made each time she crossed the threshold of the Malfoy Manor. Her heart would do a subtle dance of anticipation whenever she knew she'd encounter him, and a flush would steal across her cheeks, like a clandestine tribute to his striking presence. It was an irrational reaction, one she couldn't quite understand, given that Lucius had never hidden his disdain for her—well, at least, he hadn't before.
Lucius's trademark smirk played on his lips, but there was a curious shift in his demeanor. Gone was the initial cockiness, replaced by genuine amusement as he surveyed Y/N's puzzled expression. Her blush intensified, a shade that rivaled the crimson and gold of the Gryffindor house colors.
"You really think I'm handsome?" he probed, his tone now laced with curiosity. He leaned in closer, the proximity between them causing a subtle flutter in Y/N's heart. Lucius's eyes sparkled with a newfound charm as he awaited her response.
"I—what? I didn't—" she stammered, but her words were abruptly silenced.
"Legilimens, my darling girl," Lucius smoothly interrupted. His smirk remained, but it was tinged with a magnetic confidence that left her feeling exposed. He leaned even closer, his lips brushing against her ear, and he whispered softly, his voice a provocative caress, "Ah, yes. It appears you've conveniently forgotten that I possess the ability to delve into your mind. You see, I heard every thought you've had about me. Like your secret desire for me to pin you down on my bed, to make you forget how to walk."
Y/N's eyes widened, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Her heart raced, and she felt a shiver of vulnerability wash over her. Lucius's audacious revelation had unraveled a new layer of intrigue and desire, transforming their dynamic into something far more intricate and captivating.
She gasped, disbelief coursing through her. Could he truly have been privy to her every innermost thought? It felt surreal, like a dream she was unable to awaken from. In an attempt to regain her composure, she instinctively retreated a step, allowing her gaze to lock with his. His eyes held the same intense emotion she had noticed earlier – a smoldering, undeniable lust that sent a tingle down her spine. He leaned closer, his body almost brushing against hers, and she could feel the heat radiating from him.
"That's the very reason I've maintained my distance from you all these months," he admitted, his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath its low, seductive tone. "After my ex-wife and I discovered the truth about you and my son's relationship, I tried to keep my demeanor cold. Yet every night, unable to control my desires, I found myself lost in fantasies of you," he confessed, his words a hushed, intimate secret shared between them.
A blush painted her cheeks once more as his voice whispered sensually into her ear, sending shivers coursing down her spine. His hands found their way to her sides, exerting a gentle, yet possessive squeeze. She couldn't help but shudder at his touch.
"My son is a fool for betraying such a beautiful, enchanting nymph like you," he purred, his lips grazing the tender skin just below her earlobe. His kisses left a fiery trail down her neck, only to ascend slowly back towards her lips. When their mouths met, it was as though a swarm of butterflies took flight in her stomach, fluttering wildly. She didn't respond immediately, her brain struggling to catch up with the whirlwind of sensations. Gradually, she inhaled his intoxicating scent, responding to his kisses with a growing hunger of her own.
Y/N's moans of desire seemed to echo within the cavernous expanse of Lucius's opulent mansion. Every step she took away from the memory of Draco's betrayal and closer to Lucius felt like a transgressive leap into the unknown. The kiss, fueled by a volatile mix of guilt and longing, deepened with each passing second. It was a magnetic force pulling them closer together, their lips becoming the epicenter of their shared need.
Her fingers wove themselves deeper into Lucius's long, platinum blonde hair, the strands silky and cool to the touch. He couldn't help but groan in response, the sound a testament to the intensity of their connection. His powerful hands, previously residing at her sides, ventured boldly downward, reaching her shapely derrière. With a delicate yet firm touch, he squeezed, sending exhilarating waves of sensation through her body.
With a sudden surge of passion, Lucius lifted Y/N off her feet, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to maintain their electrifying kiss. The sensation of being carried by him, the firmness of his grip, and the heat of his body against hers were intoxicating. They ascended the grand staircase, their rhythmic ascent echoing through the mansion's ornate halls.
As they turned down the dimly lit hallway, the portraits of stern-faced ancestors bore witness to their clandestine rendezvous. The anticipation was palpable, each step a deliberate stride toward the unknown. The soft glow of moonlight spilled through heavy, brocade curtains, casting intricate patterns on the Persian rugs that lined the floor.
With an audacious display of strength and desire, Lucius kicked open the door to his lavishly appointed bedroom. The door swung wide with a creak, revealing a chamber bathed in shadows. The grandeur of the room was nothing short of breathtaking, with its sumptuous canopy bed, antique furnishings, and gilded accents. The room exuded an air of timeless elegance, a stark contrast to the illicit passion that had led them there. Yet, with another commanding kick, he shut the door behind them, sealing their secret within the confines of the room's opulent embrace.
In the opulent chamber, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtered through heavy curtains, he guided her towards his bed with a gentleness that belied the intense desire simmering between them. The sumptuous sheets, adorned with intricate patterns, awaited their embrace, a testament to the luxury that surrounded them. With a feather-light touch, he laid her down, the mattress conforming to the curves of her body like a lover's caress.
Desire surged between them, an irresistible force pulling them closer together. She eagerly wound her legs around him, her longing palpable. A deep, resonant chuckle rumbled from his chest, a seductive reverberation that filled the room. It was a sound that resonated with promise, the promise of what was to come.
His lips embarked on a slow descent down the delicate curve of her neck, leaving a trail of searing kisses in their wake. His teeth grazed her skin, eliciting sharp gasps and urgent moans from her trembling lips. Y/N's moans danced in harmony with the hushed symphony of their passion, their clandestine desires woven into every sound.
With a masterful touch, his hands began their sensual exploration, fingers tracing the contours of her body. He reached for the fabric of her shirt, the anticipation of their impending intimacy electrifying the air. But as he made to unveil her, he paused, gazing into her eyes with a mixture of tenderness and raw desire. His voice, a sultry whisper, hung in the air like an unspoken invitation, "Do you want to continue this?"
Her heart swelled with a heady blend of love and desire at his considerate question. It wasn't just about the act itself; it was about the connection they shared, the intimacy that extended beyond the physical. Her eyes met his, and she nodded in fervent agreement, but his gaze turned insistent, demanding more than a mere gesture.
She acquiesced, her voice a soft, breathless confession. "Yes, I want to continue."
With the patience of a man intoxicated by her presence, he lifted her shirt, revealing her in all her vulnerability and desire. Each moment was a deliberate act of unveiling, an exploration of the secrets they had kept hidden for too long. Her whimpers of longing grew more pronounced, a sweet symphony of passion that ignited the room.
Their discarded shirts lay scattered, forgotten remnants of the world they had left behind. Their lips collided once more, a fervent clash of desires. His hands, strong and gentle, cradled her face, deepening the kiss into a consuming blaze of longing. In this stolen moment, their connection transcended the physical, binding them together in a fiery embrace that defied the boundaries of reason and restraint.
In the cocoon of their desires, time seemed to slow, allowing them to savor every tantalizing moment. The room, adorned with rich, heavy curtains that filtered the moon's soft glow, bathed them in an otherworldly ambiance. They paused briefly to remove the remaining garments that clung to their heated bodies, leaving a trail of discarded clothing scattered haphazardly across the floor.
With a profound longing etched upon their faces, they surrendered to the pull of their desires. He took the initiative, his lips blazing a path of fiery kisses down her form. Every inch of her skin he touched seemed to ignite with desire, his teeth delicately grazing, and his mouth fervently claiming her.
One of his hands, large and commanding, found its place on her breast, the fingers expertly working her sensitive flesh. The other sought solace on her hip, the grip possessive yet tender. Y/N's response was immediate, her back arching sensually as she pressed herself closer to him. The room bore witness to her unrestrained passion, shadows playing tricks on their entangled figures.
The dimly lit room provided an intimate backdrop to their stolen moment, amplifying the intensity of their connection. She gasped, unable to stifle the whirlwind of sensations coursing through her body. Her longing and need reached a fevered pitch as his lips moved relentlessly over her skin.
This sensation was unlike anything she had ever encountered, not even with Draco. It was a heady concoction of raw desire and an emotional connection that left her feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable, yet simultaneously empowered and alive.
His lips reluctantly abandoned her chest, tracing a searing path downward, inching closer to the epicenter of her desire. Her hips reacted instinctively, a silent plea for more, a plea for him to satiate the burgeoning hunger that consumed her. In response, he chuckled darkly, a knowing grin playing upon his lips.
"So, so greedy for me, aren't you?" he purred, his voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "I've barely even started, my little nymph, and you're already squirming."
Her moans grew in volume, punctuating the charged atmosphere. Her hips continued their rhythmic dance, a wordless invitation for him to delve deeper into her desires. Just as hope began to wane, he boldly ventured between her legs. His thumb found her eager clit, tracing slow, electrifying circles that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. She couldn't help but gasp loudly, her moans intensifying as her body surrendered to his skillful touch.
“L-Lucius!” Y/N's fervent whimper hung in the air, a plea for more that only fueled Lucius's desire to push her further into the depths of pleasure. He reveled in the sound, a wicked grin playing upon his lips as he continued to work his magic. His fingers, slick with her arousal, glided effortlessly inside her, seeking out her g-spot with uncanny precision. The sensation of his touch sent electric jolts of pleasure coursing through her, her moans becoming a chorus of surrender.
The room seemed to close in around them, the ambiance heavy with the heady scent of their desire. Shadows danced seductively across the walls, an intimate audience to their clandestine tryst. Every subtle movement, every trembling breath, was magnified in the dim light, intensifying the eroticism of the moment.
Lucius's voice, a velvet caress of dominance, lured her deeper into submission. "That's right, my little slut," he whispered huskily, his words both an affirmation and a command. "Feel how good I'm making you. Did he ever make you feel like this? Did he know all the right spots to please you?"
She struggled to form coherent words, the pleasure he evoked rendering her speechless. Her response was a breathless admission of truth, punctuated by her moans of ecstasy. "N-No... aahh-"
Lucius's eyes bore into her with an intensity that left her feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet utterly consumed by desire. His fingers continued their relentless assault on her g-spot, her body quivering in response. Her pussy clenched around him, a physical manifestation of her escalating pleasure, and he couldn't help but grunt with satisfaction.
"My little slut," he growled, his voice dripping with unrestrained lust, "you've never felt this kind of pleasure before, have you? Well, let's make sure you're fully satisfied, my dear."
With each word, he propelled her further into the abyss of desire, his fingers dancing with a masterful touch that promised to fulfill her every longing. In the dimly lit room, their forbidden encounter continued, a symphony of passion and submission that echoed through the night.
Lucius's descent towards her quivering core was an agonizingly slow and tantalizing journey. His head moved lower, inch by tantalizing inch, until his mouth hovered just above her dripping wet pussy. The room, bathed in the soft, dim light of concealed passion, seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of the forbidden act about to unfold.
Y/N's body was a live wire, tingling with desire as his warm breath caressed her sensitive flesh. Her back arched in a primal response, a silent plea for him to continue, to grant her the pleasure she craved. The air was thick with tension, the electrifying atmosphere heightened by the palpable anticipation of what was to come.
With a deliberate, torturous slowness, his tongue made its first sensuous contact with her throbbing clit. Y/N's response was immediate and intense; she arched her back, a breathless gasp escaping her lips. Waves of desire surged through her, her hips rising to meet his mouth in a fervent demand for more. His tongue traced lazy circles around her clit, each pass a teasing caress that left her trembling with need.
Her hips moved in rhythmic desperation, bucking into his mouth as she sought to intensify the pleasure. Lucius, the master of seduction, had her in a hypnotic trance, his tongue shifting tactics to move from side to side, skillfully exploring every sensitive inch of her. He returned to her clit, sucking with a purposeful hunger that sent shivers coursing through her body. Her moans grew in intensity, a symphony of ecstasy that filled the room.
As if orchestrating a symphony of pleasure, his fingers joined the sensual dance, slick with her arousal. They thrust in and out with a relentless rhythm, each penetration hitting her g-spot with pinpoint accuracy. Y/N's body was a trembling instrument of desire, her moans and whimpers filling the room like a seductive melody.
A familiar sensation began to coil within her abdomen, growing in intensity with each tantalizing moment. Her pussy clenched around his fingers as the waves of pleasure overtook her. With a gasp that shattered the air, she climaxed, her body trembling in the throes of ecstasy.
Lucius's voice, thick with desire and dominance, broke through her post-orgasmic haze. "Good girl, my good girl," he murmured, his words both a praise and a command. Her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction. He withdrew his hand from her quivering pussy, his fingers glistening with her essence. With forceful insistence, he grasped her jaw, parting her lips and presenting his cum-covered fingers to her mouth. "Taste yourself, whore!" he demanded, his voice a potent blend of authority and lust, igniting a primal hunger within her.
The room, cloaked in shadows, seemed to hold its breath as Y/N's lips encircled Lucius's fingers, moving with an almost hypnotic rhythm as she licked and sucked them clean. Her tongue, eager and tantalizing, left no trace of her essence behind, and Lucius watched her with a predatory hunger that mirrored her own desire. With an excruciating slowness, he withdrew his fingers from her mouth, his grip shifting to encircle her delicate throat, a possessive hold that sent a jolt of excitement through her.
A deep, throaty chuckle resonated from Lucius, a dark sound that underscored his mastery over her. It was a symphony of submission, her whimper in response to his control weaving through the charged air. His other hand, which had been on her jaw, descended with purposeful intent to his throbbing cock. With tantalizing deliberation, he began to stroke himself, each languid movement of his hand a seductive overture to the impending climax of their desires.
Y/N grappled with a myriad of emotions. She knew she should be overwhelmed with guilt, entangled in an illicit affair with her ex-boyfriend's father. Yet, beneath the layers of her moral reservations, a burning desire and a thirst for revenge surged within her. She yearned to make her ex-boyfriend pay for his betrayal, to mend her shattered heart by indulging in the very act that had caused her so much pain.
Her internal turmoil was momentarily eclipsed as she felt the firm tip of his cock teasing her wet, throbbing pussy. The exquisite friction sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through her, and her moans and whimpers filled the room like a seductive aria. Her body was a symphony of need, the sultry dance of his cock against her clit driving her to the brink of ecstasy.
Lucius's voice, dripping with dominance and desire, anchored her in the present moment. "My little mudblood," he taunted, his words laden with a derogatory term that should have stung. Instead, the sultry timbre of his voice rendered her helpless, a willing captive to his seduction. "Is this what you've desired all this time? For a real man to fuck you, to slide his cock deep inside you and make you feel good?"
Despite the term, her moans and whimpers betrayed her true desires, her voice trembling with need. "Y-Yes, Daddy," she whimpered, her plea echoing through the room, a fervent entreaty for the fulfillment of her deepest, most forbidden fantasies. “ Please, fuck me!”
"Daddy? Hmm?" Lucius questioned, his voice dripping with irresistible seduction that hung in the air like a sultry promise. A low, dark chuckle followed, resonating with a wicked allure as his eyes sparkled with mischief and a hint of malevolence. It was a look that promised a thrilling journey into forbidden desires, an intoxicating blend of pleasure and danger.
The room, cloaked in shadows and secrecy, bore witness to their clandestine rendezvous—a sensual dance of dominance and submission that unfolded in hushed gasps and fervent touches. Lucius reveled in her surrender, delighting in the way the derogatory term slipped off his tongue, and, to his surprise, she seemed to share in that twisted pleasure. "My little mudblood is filthy, isn't she?" he continued, his words dripping with desire and a touch of cruelty. In their intimate connection, the term had evolved into an oddly cherished secret, symbolizing her eager willingness to plunge into the irresistible depths of their forbidden passions. "I like that."
With deliberate intent, Lucius poised himself at the edge of her ecstasy, the air thick with anticipation. He surged into her abruptly, a powerful thrust that drew an electrified whimper from Y/N. Her body responded instinctively, arching in response to the sudden intrusion, a wordless plea for more. Lucius groaned in satisfaction, luxuriating in the exquisite sensation of her tight, wet heat enveloping him.
"Daddy!" Y/N's moan, fervent and desperate, reverberated through the room, echoing the intensity of her longing and submission.
Lucius wasted no time in unleashing the primal depths of his desire, setting a relentless pace that sent tremors through the bed beneath them. Pleasure and pain intertwined as Y/N's body stretched to accommodate him, her moans and gasps forming a seductive symphony that filled the room. Each powerful thrust propelled her closer to the precipice of ecstasy, the headboard bearing witness to the fervor of their illicit union.
"F-Fuck," Lucius hissed, his voice a symphony of unquenchable desire as he intensified his rhythm. His hips surged against her with unrestrained lust, each collision sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. The room resounded with their shared passion, an intoxicating rhythm that reverberated through the air and ignited an inferno of sensations. “You’re so tight and wet, aaah- I’m going to have so much fun destroying this tight little hole of yours.”
The hand that encircled her throat tightened incrementally, a gesture of dominance that sent a thrill of arousal coursing through Y/N. Her fingers tangled in Lucius's long, platinum blonde hair, tugging gently as she sought to draw him closer. His primal groans and moans in response only served to deepen her desire, each intoxicating sound forging an unbreakable connection between them in the hidden world they had created.
Their moans, like an intricate duet, melded into an intoxicating symphony of desire, echoing through the dimly lit room. With each primal thrust, he plunged deeper and faster into her, igniting a passionate crescendo that left them both gasping for breath. Her heart raced in response to the electrifying pleasure coursing through her veins.
"Lucius—Lucius! Aaaahhh—fuck! Daddy!" Her words, a fervent chant of need and submission, spilled from her lips in breathless abandon. Her hips responded in kind, moving in a seductive rhythm that matched his powerful thrusts, a dance of desire that transcended the bounds of their forbidden liaison.
"So damn good! Aahh—yes! Oh fuck, my little mudblood knows how to please me," he growled with unapologetic desire, his voice a seductive purr that sent shivers cascading down her spine. His hips quickened their relentless pace, pounding into her with an unyielding urgency that caused the bed to groan and creak beneath them, a testament to the fierce intensity of their union. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel, slut!
Her moans swelled, a wild symphony of ecstasy and surrender that reverberated through the room like a siren's call. She clawed at the sheets beneath her, her fingers desperately seeking purchase in the soft fabric as waves of pleasure crashed over her. It was an exquisite torment, a tantalizing whirlwind of sensations that threatened to consume her entirely.
"Daddy, you—ahh—feel so good," she gasped, her voice trembling with a potent mix of longing and desperation. Her nails traced feverish patterns over his heated skin, leaving trails of tingling sensation in their wake. Her silent entreaty was clear: she yearned for him to take her harder, to claim her completely in the tempest of their shared passion. “You make me feel so good! You’re fucking me so much better than him.”
Amid the dimly lit room, their passionate entwining continued, each feverish moment adding a new layer to their shared desire. Lucius, a commanding figure, maintained his relentless thrusts, his dominance evident in every movement. Her fervent responses wove a tapestry of longing and ecstasy, their chemistry igniting the air around them.
"I know, my little nymph," he purred, his voice an intoxicating blend of pleasure and command. His grip on her tightened possessively, fingers leaving tantalizing imprints on her heated skin. "Cum for me, slut. Show me how good I make you feel." His words hung in the air like a seductive spell, sending electrifying shivers throughout her body.
With each powerful thrust, the tip of his cock skillfully teased her cervix, intensifying the delicious ache in the pit of her stomach. Their bodies moved in perfect unison, a dance that seemed to transcend the boundaries of time and reason, an intricate symphony of passion that left them breathless.
Lucius, releasing his hold on her throat, replaced it with his mouth, his lips and teeth marking her skin as he continued to slam into her with primal urgency. Love bites and passionate kisses adorned her flesh, evidence of their unrestrained fervor. They moved together, bodies melding into one, a force of nature that defied control. In a rapturous climax, they reached the pinnacle of their desire, their voices rising in unison, filling the room with their unrestrained passion.
As Lucius withdrew from her, a plaintive whimper escaped her lips, a testament to the aching desire that still clung to her. His triumphant smirk hinted at the pleasure he derived from her desperate longing. As he made his way to the bathroom to cleanse himself, her eyes remained fixed on the vacant space he had occupied, her body still tingling with the fading echoes of their intense union.
Upon his return, a damp cloth in hand, he approached her with eyes that held both tenderness and desire. Every stroke of the cloth was a gentle caress, an unspoken declaration of their strange intimacy. The discarded rag landed carelessly beside them, a forgotten relic of their fervent encounter.
"Go to sleep, my little nymph," he whispered, his arms enveloping her in a protective embrace. "I'll be here when you wake." His words were a soothing promise, lulling her into a cocoon of security and contentment that belied the complexity of their relationship.
She nestled against him, her heart aflutter with emotions that defied easy categorization. Despite the impending repercussions of their actions, she couldn't deny the profound satisfaction she felt. As her eyes fluttered closed, the only thought that remained was that revenge, in its twisted and tumultuous way, could be intoxicatingly sweet.
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larluce · 10 months ago
Text
I had an idea for a Post canon merthur AU!!
I don't know if you have seen Sakura Card Captor? Well, there is a character called Yukito that has double personality/two alter egos. One that is a regular human being with sunshine personality called Yukito and the other that is a literal Angel/powerful creature that is cold and merciless called Yue. The interesting thing about this character is that, while Yue is aware that Yukito exists and can access to Yukito's memories, Yukito doesn't have the same privilege. Yukito, as far as he knows, he is just a regular teen student that sometimes has mental gaps.
So I wondered, what if Merlin, due to all the trauma he went through or maybe through a spell he did to himself, splited his personality in two so he could handle the long wait for Arthur's return better? One would be Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer that ever lived that also incarnates the worst aspects of him, basically Dark Merlin in all his glory, and the other one would be a Merlin without his memories, ergo, without all his traumas, his personality would be series 1 innocent Merlin, but this Merlin doesn't have magic (or rather he has it, but is blocked) and he thinks he is a common mortal man.
So one night Arthur finally returns and it's Merlin who finds him when he comes out of the lake (Emrys made sure Merlin always lived close to the lake). Of course, he's startled an somewhat scared but a feeling inside him urges him to help this stranger. The man is wearing a knight armor and talks old english for some reason. (Merlin never thought his extra studies in old english that he took for fun would actually come on handy). The man only says nonesense as he helps him out of the lake and takes him to his home thought. Apparently the stranger firmly believes he is King Arthur and that he is Merlin the wizard. He has to repeat him several times that he isn't, but they do share the name though.
Merlin: (gives Arthur a change of clothes and says in old english) Here. These are the biggest clothes I have. They might fit you and I put some blankets on the couch for you to sleep.
Arthur: (doesn't take the clothes and just stares at him)...
Merlin: (thinking he didn't speak the language correctly) I said-
Arthur: (heartbroken) You really don't remember me, do you?
Merlin: (sighs) No. I don't know you. I'm sorry.
Arthur: (almost desperate) You do! I don't know what they did to you or what happened to this place, but I'm going to figure it out. I promise!
Merlin: (smiles) Sure you will. (Thinks) He must have some mental affliction, poor man. (Says as he leaves the clothes on the couch) I'll get you some hot chocolate. (Makes a move to go to the kitchen, but has a sudden headache and faints)
Arthur: Merlin! (Runs and catches him before he hits the floor, worried) Merlin, are you alright? Please, wake up! Merlin (shakes him)
Emrys: (opens his eyes that are glowing gold) My king (his eyes water) You are back. (Craddles Arthur's face)
So Emrys explains his condition to Arthur and also that 1500 years have passed and there's probably a catastrophy coming their way since Arthur is now back and all. Obviously, it's a lot to process for Arthur and he doesn't take it all well at first, but he calms down and accepts everything eventually. Arthur can't help but notice this version of Merlin,despite crying for him at the beginning, seems void of emotion most of the time.
Emrys does a spell on Arthur so he can speak modern english and tells him he will switch back to being Merlin soon.
Emrys: (serious) You can tell him you were delirious due to almost drowning or that you had some mental affliction. He already believes that anyways.
Arthur: I'm not going to lie to him, Merlin.
Emrys: I'm not Merlin. He IS Merlin and he's not going to believe you are King Arthur.
Arthur: Why can't you stay like this?
Emrys: I'm too dangerous when I'm in control for too long. Merlin is harmless and can actually be your friend.
Arthur: You are my friend!
Emrys: (coldly) No, Arthur. I'm your weapon, your protector at best, but nothing more.
Arthur: I don't believe that!
Merlin: Believe what you want. (Turns his back to Arthur)
Arthur: And I won't lie to him either!
Merlin: Tell him what you want (Eyes glowing, about to switch)
Arthur: Mer-I mean Emrys! (Stops him by holding his arm and Enrys turns to him) When will I see you again?
Emrys: When I'm needed or when you call me. Don't abuse though. Merlin might get suspicious if he has too many mental gaps. (Switchs back to Merlin and faints again)
Arthur: (catches him before he hits the floor) This better not become an habit.
Time goes by. Merlin still believes Arthur is crazy, but at least he speaks english now. Merlin does find strange the Arthur has no document, nor he is register in the sistem apparently. Merlin doesn't have the heart to get this "King Arthur" out of his house though, since he clearly has no where to go so Merlin lets him stay. Not for free of course, he makes Arthur help with the cleaning and stuff and doesn't stand for prat behavior when Arthur acts all kingly.
Arthur gets why Emrys told him this Merlin was his Merlin despite him not having his memories or his magic. He is clumsy, he jokes, he smiles, calls him out when he's being mean, but also is there for him when he needs him. Is the Merlin he knew but more... happy. Without burdens of destiny or traumas of the past.
Meanwhile Emrys just appears when they are investigating or when there is danger coming their way, like a magical creature attack or a car Arthur failed to see when he crossed the street. Emrys never smiles or small talks, he just goes to the point and gets the job done. He is dark, but overall he is... broken.
Arthur heart eaches when he realises... he is the one who took Merlin's light. He was the one who broke him.
And that's all I have for now. I don't know how merthur would get together in this AU. What do you think?
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