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Temperance (3/3)
pairing: wanda maximoff x female!reader plot: Your best friend Kate convinced you to do charity work in Sokovia with some of your old classmates, including your former bully Vision and his girlfriend Wanda Maximoff, who you inconveniently took too much of a liking in. warnings: 18+ !! minors dni. wanda is still with vision… cheating, implications of stalking and manipulation, possessive wanda, power-imbalance, dom!wanda, sub!reader, nsfw: mild choking, nipple play, thigh riding, orgasm delay, fingering (r receiving), cunnilingus (r receiving) word count: 3150 a/n: i strongly recommend reading part 1 & part 2 first, for context.
When it was time to leave the shelter, you had hoped with every fibre of your being that Wanda would want you to ride with her again. That she wanted to spend more time with you. But she didn’t ask. While watching Vision and Wanda get in their car, you felt a lump forming inside your throat. As your bottom lip started to tremble slightly, you knew that whatever last chance you had to get out of this without permanent damage, just extinguished. The physical and mental exhaustion from the past days caught up to you as soon as you sat down in the backseat next to Kate. You still heard the muffled voices of Steve and Bucky, probably talking about the political and economic state of the world, before the tiredness knocked you out. Kate tried her best to hold your head on her lap more or less steady, wanting you to get the rest you desperately needed.
“Hey y/n, wake up,” Kate whispered softly, while running her fingers through your hair. “We’re here.”
Still half-asleep, Kate helped you with getting out of the car. Holding your eyes open became increasingly difficult, your legs barely able to carry you. You had to wrap your right arm around Kate for support, as the two of you made your way to bed. It might have just been your imagination, but you could have sworn that Wanda’s eyes were fixed on you. Just the thought gave you an adrenaline kick, your heart pumping faster again. But even then, you felt like falling asleep any minute. And as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out.
The next morning, you woke up feeling at least somehow well-rested. It was the first time since you got here, that you woke up on your own and not from annoying shouting or the sound of Kate’s alarm clock. With your eyes barely open, you looked at the clock on your night stand. It was already 10 a.m. Immediate panic sat in at the thought that you could have possibly overslept. Why didn’t Kate’s alarm go off? Turning to the other side in the expectation to see Kate, you were instead greeted by another familiar face.
“W- Wanda?,” you managed to stutter out, your voice barely audible.
Wanda was sitting on an armchair not too far away from you, directly facing the bed you were sleeping in. “Good morning sleepyhead. I didn’t expect you to wake up so soon,” she said in a calm tone, her lips curved into a warm smile. And although she sounded harmless and sincere, your heart stopped beating for a second.
How long has she been here?
“So… soon? It’s 10 o’clock, we-.. we should be sitting in the car,” you stated while rubbing your eyes.
Wanda chuckled softly, her hands firmly grabbing the armrests for a split second. “Don’t worry about that sweetheart,” Wanda replied, her voice sounding sweet like honey. “We deserve a day off, don’t you think?”
Slightly baffled, you put your head in your hands for a moment, trying to collect yourself. “Did the others leave?,” you questioned, looking up at Wanda again.
“They will leave any minute now,” Wanda responded, almost cooing. “I assured them that I would take good care of you.”
That is when it finally clicked. You weren’t asleep. This was really happening. It felt like all of your blood rushed straight to your face, as the seriousness of the situation finally reached your brain. What the hell was happening? Instinctively, you quickly got up. You needed to talk to Kate.
“That is really nice of you Wanda,” you smiled nervously as you started walking towards the door. “I will just quickly ta-“
But before you could finish, you were stopped by Wanda’s hand firmly pressing against your shoulder. You didn’t even notice that she got up at all. Now she was blocking the door. “Do you know why you’re here y/n?,” she asked sweetly, her eyes burning into yours. Even now, her face looked as calm and content as always. However, her pupils were slightly dilated. It was almost unnoticeable. But not to you. You saw it before.
You swallowed hard, the tension between you and Wanda slowly but surely pressing down on your chest. “Well-… yes. To help the street dogs.”
“No y/n,” Wanda blurted out sternly. “Do you know why you’re here? How you ended up right here? With me?”
You didn’t know what she wanted to hear from you. By now you weren’t able to keep your gaze on her anymore, your stomach feeling lighter with every passing second. “I don’t think I understand-“
Without a warning, Wanda’s hand traveled closer to your neck, her thumb firmly pressing into the soft space between your collarbones. “Vision somehow had to make up for his ugly behavior during highschool, don’t you think?,” she murmured with a small smirk.
Although you were completely hypnotized by Wanda’s behavior, hearing her talk about Vision’s wrongdoings somehow caught you off-guard.
“He told you?”
But she didn’t reply to your question. Instead she intertwined her left hand with yours, your fingers instinctively reciprocating her grip. Wanda’s other hand meanwhile rested on your cheek. “He’s an asshole isn’t he?,” she asked you, her tone genuine. “And you look so pretty and innocent on your yearbook photo, sweetheart. How could anyone ever be mean to you like that?”
“I- uhm, I forgave him. It’s fine. Really.”
You were so distracted by Wanda’s touch that you didn’t ask how she saw your yearbook photo. Besides, she probably just flipped through the pages with Vision right?
“You didn’t deserve any of what he did to you,” Wanda continued as her thumb brushed over your cheek. Her soft thumb and the cold metal from her rings were driving you insane. You felt yourself leaning into her touch without hesitation. Then Wanda spoke up again. “Even years later, there was no sign of regret for his actions.”
You turned your head slightly away from Wanda’s hand, your eyebrows furrowing. “Well, he invited me here right? To make it up?”
Wanda took her hands back to herself, her demeanor changing into something darker. She let out a small chuckle, her face turned to the floor before she looked at you again. “Silly girl.”
She brushed past you, walking towards a small glass table. Your gaze followed her but you didn’t move from your spot. It felt like you were frozen. Stuck. You wondered if the door was locked. If you could leave if you wanted to. But you didn’t check.
Wanda’s back was turned towards you as you heard the sound of metal clinking. “You would let me do just anything to you, wouldn’t you angel?,” she asked while gradually taking her rings off, one by one. With every single ring, you felt the heat between your legs intensifying. It was almost embarrassing how much it impacted you.
“I-”
Before you had time to lose your shit even further, Wanda turned around and walked towards you again. Her voice seemed to cut the tension in the air, as she approached you with a heavy smirk on her face. “Are you wet for me y/n?,” Wanda murmured into your ear, her hot breath giving you goosebumps.
“Wanda I-,“ you whimpered desperately before Wanda interrupted you.
“I know you are.”
Her hand traveled to your abdomen. Whatever common sense you had left at this point, was now completely gone. You felt her index finger sliding under the waistband of your pants. “Say it. Tell me how wet you are…,” she commanded, a second finger sliding inside your pants “,…for me.”
All of a sudden you heard Vision from downstairs, calling out for Wanda. For a moment you had forgotten that he existed. But now a shiver ran down your spine, your heart pumping even faster than before. Wanda on the other hand, didn’t seem to care. By now her entire hand was inside your pants, slowly traveling towards your panties.
Wanda let out a soft moan under her breath, “Your body is aching for me. I feel it.” Her gaze was dark, her pupils covering most of her irises. It felt like you were being preyed upon. But your thoughts were still with Vision and the fear of being caught.
“Vision is-,“ you tried to argue. But Wanda quickly shut you up, removing her hand from your pants and putting it over your mouth, as her gaze became stern.
“Don’t you want to be a good girl for me detka?,” she hissed, pushing her body into yours until you ended up with your back against a wall. You nodded frantically, causing Wanda to smirk again. “Then don’t say his name. He doesn’t matter.”
He doesn’t matter.
Wanda slowly released her grip on you and took a step backwards. Before eyeing you up and down, she turned on her heel and walked towards the door. With a last glance over her shoulder, she opened it and left the room.
“I’m coming babe!,” you heard her call out.
The door was open the entire time. You could have left whenever you wanted to. And you still could. Ultimately, something felt off about the whole situation. Something felt off about the way Wanda talked to you. What she said to you. What she made you feel. While Wanda was gone, you tried to collect yourself. Although you were no longer pressed against the wall, you felt yourself unable to move. In an attempt to gain back control, you were squeezing your legs together, which were almost trembling from the arousal you felt. But then you heard the front door falling shut. By now, the anticipation almost made you faint.
“Oh, sweet y/n,” Wanda cooed as she appeared in the door frame again. As she walked towards you, her mouth stayed slightly agape, her tongue brushing against her upper lip. “All I need to hear from you is that you want me y/n.” When she reached you again, her hands quickly found their way to your waist, slightly pushing your hips towards her own. “And I know you do. But it’s your decision sweetheart.”
“I-… I want you.”
Your eyes widened at your own words. Seemingly brainless, your confession left your lips faster than you had intended. As the words hung in the room, you saw Wanda’s eyelids flutter slightly. She tilted her head, her smirk turning into a big grin. Your hips were still pushing into each other as Wanda slightly lifted her right leg, her thigh now inbetween your legs, holding them open. You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, your body already far too sensitive for what was about to happen.
“You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you?,” Wanda teased, her thigh dangerously close to your pulsing core. You just nodded eagerly, feeling your eyes already roll to the back of your head. Without warning, Wanda pushed her upper thigh against your pussy, making you groan. “Say it," she demanded coldly.
“I want you,” you started declaring, feeling your arousal soaking through the fabric of your pants “,to fuck me so bad.”
“Such a good girl.”
Wanda's face was just inches apart from yours, her eyes hungrily flickering between your face and your body. As Wanda got closer, you could feel her lips softly brushing against your neck, sending another shiver down your spine. As she softly bit down on your pulse point, you couldn’t hold back any longer. You needed to release the tension that had built up inside your panties. Distressed, you tried to rub against Wanda's thigh, the friction making you groan into her ear. For a few seconds Wanda didn’t react, her mouth still busy with your neck. But then, Wanda took a step back, releasing any contact you had.
“So impatient huh?,” she taunted.
You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together, the lust inside you becoming unbearable to endure. As you pressed your lips into a thin line, a whimper escaped. Wanda’s eyes bore into your soul, her gaze filled with desire.
“Shhh pretty girl. You have waited almost six weeks now, haven’t you?,” Wanda murmured under her breath, her hand slowly traveling under your shirt, up to your chest. As her bare hand touched your boob, your mind went completely blank. She started pinching your hardened nipple, her eyes never leaving your face. “Imagine how much patience I’ve had. You can wait for a bit. Let me savor this moment.”
As Wanda roughly squeezed your breasts, every other thought left your body. Maybe you had found yourself in a dangerous situation. Maybe Wanda had you exactly where she wanted to have you. And maybe you didn’t care.
Once Wanda was satisfied with your sore nipples, she let her hands run over your body, down to your stomach. As she crouched down in front of you, pulling your pants down slowly, her eyes lit up even more. The sight of your panties sticking tightly to your pussy was enough to make her feral.
“God, you’re drenched,” she chuckled darkly, licking her lips like she was about to devour you whole.
“Please,” you managed to gulp, looking down at Wanda who watched you vigorously.
Wanda got up carefully, her eyes never leaving yours. You didn’t know what was happening to you. Her energy became darker, more intense with every second. She did not only take over your entire mind. It felt like her aura was crackling all over the room. The redhead’s right index finger slowly slid along your jaw until it stopped at your chin and she grabbed your face.
“Who do you belong to sweetheart?,” Wanda whispered softly. Abruptly, you felt pressure on your clit. Wanda’s left thumb was pushing firmly against your panties, leaving you completely breathless. Her touch was intoxicating.
“I-”, you breathed out before Wanda pressed two fingers into you, your panties still in the way.
“Tell me,” she demanded sharply. Her thumb started circling around your clit, your legs already twitching from the impact. You needed her so bad.
“I… belong to you.”
“Say my name,” Wanda retorted sternly, her fingers pressing deeper and deeper into you. You just wanted her inside of you, filling you up. While Wanda waited for you to reply, the state you were in left you lightheaded. You couldn’t think straight. Or at all. You needed her.
“Wanda-”
“No. Say you belong to me. I want you to say my name,” Wanda growled, pushing your face closer to hers. Your noses were almost touching, Wanda’s hot breath hitting your lips.
It took a lot of energy but you managed to say just what Wanda wanted to hear, “I belong to you, Wanda.”
That was the final drop. In a flash, she pulled your panties to the side and roughly thrusted two fingers into you. Your head was about to fall back in pleasure, but Wanda held your face steady, catching your moan with her open mouth. Your lips met in a passionate kiss, Wanda hungrily soaking up every part of you. Her fingers were curling up inside of you, constantly reinforcing the pressure that was building up. As Wanda noticed the intervals of your muffled moans becoming shorter, she quickly slipped a third finger in. The increased pressure made your knees weak.
“Good girl. You’re taking me so well,” Wanda moaned in-between your kisses, almost sending you over the edge. With every thrust your back hit the wall roughly, but you couldn’t focus on anything else besides Wanda’s touch. As waves of pleasure rippled through your body, every single one added to your approaching orgasm, making you feel like you’re about to explode.
“Please Wanda, I- I’m gonna-.”, you whimpered desperately.
Then suddenly, Wanda stopped. You felt her fingers slipping out of you, leaving your trembling legs barely able to hold your weight. Your immense desire made you squeeze your legs together, the need for release overwhelming you. Meanwhile Wanda put her wet fingers into her mouth, sucking up your arousal.
“Mmh you taste so fucking good baby,” she murmured, her gaze almost haunting. “I want you to cum in my mouth. Think you can do that angel?”
You nodded eagerly, a small whimper escaping your lips.
“Good girl.”
Wanda grabbed you by the waist and helped you get onto the bed. Once you laid down, everything started spinning. Up until that point, you hadn’t realized how dizzy you felt. But in that moment, you couldn’t have cared less. As you felt Wanda taking your soaking panties off, you looked up to see her hungry eyes fixated on your swollen pussy. Then, her eyes met yours again. She quickly climbed on top of you, hovering over your body. As her face was upon yours, your noses touching, her facial features started to soften.
“I will take such good care of you my love. You won’t ever have to worry about anything,” she whispered softly. Her tone was sincere and charged with emotion, leaving you a little baffled. Wanda’s lips met yours again, but this time the kiss was soft and loving. When she pulled away, a soft smile remained on her face. Your eyes got teary at the sudden affection, your brain unable to process what was happening before Wanda went down on you.
Her mouth softly coated your puffy clit, sending electricity through your body. Wanda started slowly sucking on your pussy, moaning at the raw taste of you. Her hands were keeping your waist in place, as your hips kept moving up with every suck. It didn’t take long until your legs started shaking, your orgasm approaching once again.
“F- Fuck Wanda-," you groaned, the immense pleasure overwhelming you. Wanda’s tongue started swirling in-between your folds before dipping inside of you in a steady rhythm. She went harder and harder, her nose simultaneously rubbing against your clit.
“I’m-," you couldn’t finish your sentence, your orgasm washing over you in the same breath. Wanda licked you clean, moaning at the sound of your desperate cries, while you tried to push her head away.
As you came down from your high, Wanda got up and laid down next to you. You were facing each other when she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. Her gaze was filled with something more than sheer desire and lust. You had seen it in her eyes the first day you met each other. She looked at you like you were the center of her universe. Like nothing else mattered. With a satisfied smile on her face, she rested her forehead on yours.
“You’re mine y/n. Don’t you ever forget that.”
You didn’t even need to answer. Wanda knew that she was right. And so did you.
taglist: @xenaizogie @gabby-duhh
#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda x reader#wanda x you#kate bishop x reader#wanda x y/n#wanda x fem!reader
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losing all my innocence in the backseat
your brother was very clear about the “NO MESSING WITH MY FRIENDS” rule. jaemin gets annoyed just by seeing you exchange some words to any of them, thinking about what might be running through their nasty minds.
you’re not allowed to get that much contact with them, you know that. they’re not that older than you but it still seems wrong in your brother’s eyes.
if you know it’s wrong then why do you find yourself in park jisung’s car? parked outside of your house, sitting so prettily in his lap not giving a damn fuck about the rule.
you’ve been interested in jisung for about some months. you two share similar interests, and you’ve always find him drop dead handsome. going out for ocasional dates, secret hook ups at his place; all behind your brother’s back.
when you had to meet up with jaemin’s friends, it was hard to practically ignore jisung. ignore his presence, pretend he means absolutely nothing. there were some moments you actually thought you were in love with him. in love with the man that has you on top of him right now.
“y’ know that we can’t.. can’t do this here.”, you managed to spat in between those messy kisses you two were sharing.
jisung lowered the seat all the way, giving you maximum access to accommodate yourself in his lap. he has one hand holding your cheek, and the other caressing the bare skin of your waist.
he leaned away from the kiss, “do you want me to stop? we can leave and go to my pla-“
you cut him off, shaking your head and letting out breathy laughs, “no, ji. it feels..wrong but good.”
jisung smiles and leans his head back, amused by your words. you kept eye contact for some seconds, noticing how sweat is painting his gorgeous skin and hair. his shirt is long gone, his jeans suddenly tightening as minutes pass by.
“love.” he mumbles, fingers caressing your jaw and cheek, “have i told you how pretty you look from this angle?”
you couldn’t help but laugh, leaning down and hiding your face in his bare chest, “you’re so cute.” he pulls your face up to meet his again, tenderly pecking your lips.
in the moment jisung pulls you for a real kiss, his right hand travels to your back, fingers messing with the clasps of your bra.
he waited for any sign of approval, which you gladly granted by whimpering a small “please” between the kiss.
your fingers are massaging his hair, lovingly scratching his hot back, reaching for any skin of his that you can reach, wanting to feel him close.
“beautiful. you’re so beautiful.” jisung’s wet kisses made their way to your neck.
the fun soon ended when you heard something buzzing. jisung clicks his tongue, leaning away from your sweet neck and sitting up to get his phone.
the car went silence for some seconds. “ji. who is it?”
jisung ruffles his hair, showing you the contact name on his phone, “it’s your brother.”
jaemin’s name appeared on the display, and the male gave you one last look before accepting the call.
you sit up and search for your shirt, mentally cursing at him for ruining your moment with jisung, but now a part of you feels guilty.
“hey, jaem.” his voice sounded unusual.
“i’ve sent you some messages over the past hour.”
“i’m so sorry man, i was busy and i’m not home yet. what do you need?” that was the last words that came out of jisung’s mouth before the male on the other line hung up.
he quickly opens jaemin’s chat, with over 10+ unread messages.
NA JAEMIN: you think i’m fucking dumb or what
NA JAEMIN: i’m sorry but what the actual fuck jisung
NA JAEMIN: get out of my house. leave her alone
NA JAEMIN: you’re fucking in my backyard is that it
NA JAEMIN: and to think that you thought i wouldn’t find out lol
NA JAEMIN: fuck you
NA JAEMIN: youre so done
NA JAEMIN: don’t even try to excuse yourself
NA JAEMIN: i don’t want to hear a single word
#this was purely based on a dream i had#park jisung#jisung x reader#park jisung x reader#jisung nct#7dream#nct dream#park jisung imagines#nct dream x reader#park jisung nct#park jisung x female reader#nct#park jisung smut#park jisung fluff#jisung fluff
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mr. pines
stanley pines x f!reader
reader needs a job really badly and stanford pines gives her a job... with a couple conditions.
tw // noncon, power imbalance, older man/younger woman, old man stan being gross, slight misogyny (mostly the pet names), also plss lmk if i missed anything
18+!!!!!!!! pls!!! pls!!! mind the tw and tags (also this is posted on my ao3 acc as well!)
you’ve been scrounging around for a job since you moved to gravity falls. finally, after a couple of months of begging around, the diner waitress, susan, had told you that the stan pines might be hiring at the mystery shack. you had promised the landlord that you’d give them the rent as soon as you find a job, but you can tell they were getting tired of letting you stay rent free.
you had walked to the mystery shack, only a 15-minute walk from the apartment. when you walk in, you’re hit with the smell of sandalwood and glue. you walk over to the red-headed teenager at the cashier stand.
“hey, uh- lazy susan said you guys were hiring?” she looks up from her phone to think for a second.
“oh really? um i guess you can check with stan. his office is right down the hall. he should be in there right now.” she points down the dark hallway to your right and goes right back to her phone. you thank her and she gives you a smile in response. goosebumps rise on your skin as you walk down the eerie, dark hallway. you were starting to second guess your choice of jobs, but you knock on the office door before you chicken out.
“come in.” a gruff voice calls from inside. you swallow and open the door.
“hi! i’m here to apply for a job at the mystery shack.” you smile and shut the door behind you. the only light in the room from the windows in the office. he hums and doesn’t say anything. he gestures to the chair next to him. you sit down and look around the messy office. a taxidermized animal head, a statue of an owl, a huge safe, all sorts of odd things litter the office.
“what are some of your qualifications?” he grunts out, surprising you. you list out your old jobs and hand over the resume that you brought. he gives it a once-over before tossing it into the trash can next to him.
“oh i needed that ba-” he holds a hand up and you shut your mouth. you don’t say anything as he leans back in his chair.
“you’ve got potential, (y/n).” he nods, “but… i don’t really want to pay anyone and it doesn’t seem like we really need the people all that much.” he shrugs.
you start to panic, reaching out and grabbing his hand, “please, mr. pines. i really need this job.” you beg and you watch him think for a couple minutes before smiling.
he clears his throat, “you know what, sweetheart? come back after the shack is closed, then we’ll talk about a job.” he stands up, your hands falling back to your sides, and you realize how much taller he was than you, how much more intimidating he was.
you pause to think, but realizing you have no other choice, “sure, i guess i’ll be back around 10 then.” he opens the door, but takes up most of the exit. you squeeze out from around him.
“i’ll see you then, sweetcheeks.” you feel eyes on your ass as you leave the shack. unfortunately, time goes by quickly and you’re back at the mystery shack. your stomach turns, warning you to make the right choice. you quietly go inside and notice that only the lights in stan’s office were on.
you fumble through the shop to the closed door. “hello?” you knock. mr. pines calls out for you to come in. you enter and you see him sitting on his desk, waiting for you. you clear your throat, “hi mr. pines.” he quirks an eyebrow at you and gets up. you force yourself to not back away as he comes closer to you. he walks past you and closes the door. you hear the quiet click of the lock and you feel chills go down your spine. alarms start going off in your head as he goes back and collapses into the chair. he leans back in his chair, groaning.
“so, you want a job here?” stan raises an eyebrow. you nod, “hmm… maybe i can help you, dollface.”
you let out a sigh in relief, “thank you so much, mr. pines. i’ll do anything, i really need this job.”
“anything, huh.” he nods with a smirk. you nod, eagerly.
“i’ll scrub walls, wash your car, or work from open to close! i will do literally anything!”
“you don’t have to do anything like that, sugarpie” you tilt your head, suddenly hearing the pet names. “you’ll just have to do a small little favor for me.” you don’t respond, hoping he’d explain. he gestures for you to come closer. you walk over to his desk and he turns the chair to face you. “kneel down for me.”
you awkwardly giggle, “what?” mr. pines looks at you with an expression you couldn’t read.
“kneel down.” he stands up, you feel your heart drop. stan pines towers over you and grabs a fistful of your hair. he pushes you down and you yelp as your scalp stings. you try to crawl away, but he doesn’t let go of your hair. he uses one hand to unbuckle his belt and let his pants drop. his cock hangs, big and girthy. your eyes go wide.
“mr. pines. please, don’t. i don’t want to do this.” you beg, feeling the panic rise and tears start to well up in your eyes. he looks down at you with a smirk, but let’s go. you scramble up and back against the wall. he sits back down, nonchalantly.
“fine, you can leave, sweetheart.” he shrugs. you back away quickly, hoping to get out of the office as fast as possible. “but…” you pause as your hand touches the doorknob, “you need me, baby. suzie told me about you: new girl with no job, relentless landlord, and not a single friend in town.” he laughs, deep and unsettling.
“fuck. you. i’m going to the cops and i’ll tell them what you did.” you turn and glare, voice dripping in malice. you twist the doorknob, planning to get the hell out of the place.
he stares at you, a smirk resting on his face. you felt frozen in place. “and what then? the people of gravity falls know me, toots. they know of my… reputation. they’re gonna tell you that you should’ve known better. i mean,” he barks out a laugh, “you came to the mystery shack after hours to see me. you should’ve known.” your hand drops from the doorknob. you stare at your feet. “i could help you, (y/n). i’ll pay you good money as long as you meet my requests.” you look up, tears dripping down your face, and stan smiles. he gestures for you to come closer. you, reluctantly, come back to stand in front of him. you make sure to keep your eyes away from his undone pants.
“what-what do you want me to do?” you sniffle. with surprising gentleness, he grabs your hand and helps you to your knees. he cups your face, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.
“all you have to do is do what i say. it’s a win-win situation, toots.” you start to feel yourself going numb. his hand leaves your face and he leans back. you inch closer, carefully placing your hands on his thighs. you move one hand up to gingerly wrap it around his cock. you hear him grunt at your touch and your vision starts to blur as your tears flow harder. you steady yourself on his thigh and stroke his dick.
stan groans, but you hear more irritation than arousal. “you don’t have to be so gentle, sweetheart. it won’t bite.” he growls. you swallow back the bile rising in your throat and tighten your grip a little more. with each stroke, stan’s grunts progressively louder. you watch as pre-cum leaks from his tip and feel his dick get harder with every stroke. but as you feel his thighs tense, stan grabs your hand.
“come closer.” he rasped. you inch closer, “i need you to open your mouth, sweetheart.” you hold back a gag and shake your head. stan grabs you by the chin and pulls you closer, you tighten your lips. stan chuckles before letting go of your chin to pinch your nose. your eyes widen, unable to think or breathe. you open your mouth to take a breath and stan lets go of your nose to shove two fingers into your mouth. you gag around his thick fingers, “you are just so beautiful, dollface, i can’t wait to use you every day.” he whispered and you feel a sudden wave of heat in your lower belly. he pulls his fingers out and you try to look away, but stan’s hand tangles itself in your hair. your eyes trail down from his face to his other hand, gripping his thick cock.
“wait-” you choke out, but stan pulls your head forward and plows himself into your mouth. he moves your head frantically, you choke and gargle as saliva and pre-cum drips down your throat and face. tears flow freely from your eyes as you were used as a worthless sex toy. you can feel yourself getting wetter and you feel disgusted.
“oh god, sugar, you feel so good. so. fucking. good.” he groans out, punctuating each word with a rough thrust. you could feel the tip of his dick almost going down your throat. you could see black spots dancing in your vision and you hit stan’s thighs, praying for a reprieve. you swallow around stan’s cock, trying to bring yourself back to consciousness, and stan moans. “oh, fuck,” stan’s hips stutter and he pushes your head down. your nose hits his springy, gray, pubic hair and you can feel his cock pulse as he cums down your throat. his hand loosens from your hair and you lurch backwards, gagging at the leftover taste of his bitter, salty, hot cum. you stumbled to the ground, leaning back against the wall, with your knees pressed to your chest.
“oh god, oh god.” you sob. stan gets up, pulling up his pants and buckling his belt. he gets his wallet out and tosses forward a couple hundred-dollar bills. “consider this your signing bonus.” he pulls something out of his drawer and tosses a contract in front of you. “once you sign this, you’re a full-time mystery shack employee.” he walks to the door and opens it to leave, but looks back at you, “you’re a good lay, toots. i’ll see you tomorrow at 6. don’t be late.” he turns and walks out, leaving you shivering and humiliated.
#like and reblog <3#x reader#tw noncon#stanley pines x reader#stanley pines smut#stan pines x reader#power imbalance#evil boss#evil old man#gravity falls smut#yandere x reader#yandere#reader uses she/her pronouns#yandere stanley pines#yandere stan pines x reader#stan pines smut#stanley pines#yandere gravity falls#gravity falls#tw slight misogyny
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Mind Games
Billie Eilish x Female reader !
A/n: got a few ideas for this story and I'm so insanely proud of it, I just hope everyone else enjoys it <3
Warnings: SMUT HOES mdni. Ice play, pure filth, strap usage, sub/bratty reader, soft dom billie + a mommy kink 😁 lmk if I missed anything !!
Summary: Billie had been working all day for the past few days, you had been a bit bored and she was being a bit dry with you, causing you to get moody, just wanting some of her attention. You definitely got your wish in the end.
Masterlist
All day. All fucking day she had been in that room. You understand she was working, you got that. But even Finneas told her she didn't need to. Billie was always a hard worker but this had been going on for three days straight you missed her. You were starting to get sexually frustrated, considering you hadn't even had a slight kiss in days, you just wanted to be with her. You'd occasionally go in there to check on her, but she was always so dry with you. Which lead you to your new found behavior. And only then did she pry her eyes away from that stupid computer screen.
It was currently 9 pm at night, nearly 10. Your small figure glided through the small Crack of the door, shutting it quietly behind you. "Baby, come to bed." She waved you off. "Inna minute." Her voice was sharp but at the same time so incredibly dull. This set something off in you. "Orrr you could do it now." She didn't even respond, continuing to click away at the keyboard. You let out an annoyed breath. "You're annoying." You then say. Still, nothing. "My fucking God." You muttered quietly under your breath, but being so close in the silent room, she most definitely heard it. She didn't stop what she was doing though. Letting out a small chuckle. "No need to be like that." Your eyes only roll at that dumb statement. "Theres every need." Again shes not giving you any time of day. "Don't be a pest." Your brows furrow deeply at her words. "Me?! Pft, I'm not the one being dry." She lets out a deep sigh, it coming out a tiny bit raspy.
That just went straight to your core, but you couldn't let it. You needed to keep pestering her the way you were, in order to get any kind of message across. "You want attention?" There, she finally looks at you for what felt like forever. Her eyes had slight bags under them, making her eyes more provoking, you wanted to give yourself up then and there, but you resist. Playing that game. "Yeah, maybe I do? Cuz you're held up in here, when you don't even need to be." Her eyes dart back to the computer screen ignoring everything you had to say, making your frustrations even more visible. "Bitch." You mumbled, going to walk away.
"Sit." She demands sternly, her voice now carrying a slow, taunting tone in the way she spoke. Her hand grips your arm, tightly. Tingles, you silently swallow feelings that sane tingle go through your entire body. You reluctantly do as told, slowly going to sit on her lap. Her hand moves to your hip bone, having it rest there. But she doesn't keep her focus on you for very long. Back to that damn screen again. That irritation still deep within you, taking only one single flick to ignite. She knew what you wanted, but she still wasn't giving it to you. Why? You huff out, letting your focus go onto the door to the room, not even looking at her. "Why so bratty? All because you aren't getting your own way." It's your turn to stay silent. "Cat got your tongue?" Nada. A breath of disapproval leaves her plump lips. Her eyes occasionally look at you and your posture. Your figure. You always wore a black silk night dress to bed, she loved it. The way it'd fall on your body so beautifully. She could never ever resist you when you wore them.
Maybe that was how to get her attention all along. That, and the brattiness. "Alright. Where's my good girl at?" Silence from your end, you wanted to keep this charade up still. "Hm?" She'd continue when you wouldn't respond. Her finger dug into your hip, making you move around a bit, when you finally look at her. Her eyes were the same as her voice, taunting. Sending a shiver down your spine. Those fucking eyes. "Answer me." Again, nothing. "That's the game you wanna play huh?" Her attention was definitely on you now. For the right reason? Who knows. You wondered if you had fucked up, getting a bit nervous at the way she was acting. So nonchalant, her actions so aloof. She wrapped an arm around you, standing with your legs wrapped around her waist.
She strides over to your bedroom, it being dim. The only source of light was coming from your ensuite, that blood red color from the led's cascading into the room you two were in currently. Contrasting how filthy this moment was truly about to be. Your body fell onto the soft black duvet, the bottom of your night dress riding up in the process. She lets her eyes wander for only a second. Making her way over to the closet. "Billi-" But that was instantly cut short when you saw the mix of her HMHAS belt and chains dangling in her right hand. Uh oh. Was the only thing racing through your brain. You were truly in for it.
She comes over to you, her eyes remaining the same, lust filled libido ones from earlier. God this woman. You watch her left hand as it comes in contact with your chin, lifting up your face to look at her. "Do I even need to utter instructions?" She spoke lowly. Do you test it? Continue to be bratty? She wasn't going to go easy on you either way, so you decided it's probably best to behave for now. You give it a moment, putting both of your hands behind your back. She smirks slightly at how well you obeyed. She moves closer to you, looming over your body to tie the belt around your wrists. "Very good." She whispers near your ear. Your breath hitches, closing your eyes. Feeling the coolness of the metal, making your mouth let out a soft gasp. Feeling those same exact shivers all over, once again.
She stood back, observing the scene infront of her. Usually she'd do that and fuck you right then and there. But oh boy were you in for a rude awakening tonight. She leaves the room, making your brows knit together in such confusion, only for her to soon come back with a small glass of ice. Your eyes widen, drifting from the ice, to her face. It had turned evil. Sexy. You didn't want to admit how turned on it made you when she got like this, but it sure did. She drops to her knees, slowly going for the strings of your underwear, sliding them off your soft legs. Letting them pool around your ankles. Her fingers grip one cube, bringing it to your chest. Your body jolts at the cool feeling.
It being soothing in a strange way, as your body had became super hot. Due to the fact she was tormenting you, her eyes, her voice. Her hands. Your brain couldn't function properly. A small noise escapes your lips as the ice slides across your cleavage. Your eyes shutting in the process. She removes it shortly after, getting you to lean back ever so slightly. Her hands spread your legs apart, making the silky fabric slide up your body. Resting on the top of your thighs. Showing how absolutely wet you were for her. She lets out a low hum. Bringing that same chunk of ice to your inner thighs. Sending your eyes shut and mouth agape again. The cool wetness coating your thighs, having you feeling crazy. Loving exactly how it felt. She thought over her next move, gazing your pussy in anticipation. "Watch me turn your mind into my home." She rasps, still maintaining that lustful manner.
Your head lifts, to look at her as she says that. But you're immediately sent back into the state you were in before, as the ice comes in contact with you folds. A moan finally escapes you, she rests her head on her hand, watching everything unfold. You felt such ecstasy as she eventually slide it to your hole, her mouth opens. Mimicking your tiny gasp. She lets a slight chuckle out. "Cute." Your eyes yet again shut, tugging slightly on the restraints. "Bil-"
"Are you my good girl?"
You swallow. "Y-yes." She meets your eyes as they reopen, tilting her head in a way that made a tiny whimper emerge from your slightly swollen lips. Swollen from all the biting you were doing. "Then zip it." You start to frantically nod, earning a cheeky smirk from her end. "Good." She whispers, bringing the ice out again it melting heaps, but before it has completely she moves it up. Kissing your clit perfectly. The icy feeling making you whine out. Keeping silent with your words knowing what she had just said. You couldn't fight this. She thought. Once it's gone she grabs another one, the chill hits your thighs again. "Cold?" You just give a simple nod. "Hmmm. Good." Feeling the feeling you felt before as the ice cube enters your hole. Your back arches wanting more of this feeling. And more. A tiny tired smile is spread across your face, feeling blissed out.
"Think you're winning? With all your grinning?" No answer, only a shake of your head. "but baby. I got the last laugh." You choke on a moan as her fingers suddenly enter you, pushing the ice further in you. Feeling it melt slowly. Her pace was slow and torturing, watching your face contort in pure pleasure. "There she is." Billie draws out. Loving how she has you. Her fingers eventually pick up the pace, sending you into a fit of moans at the rough manner. You were getting there, so incredibly close. She felt it exactly. So ofcourse she pulls them out. "Billiee." You whine, falling back against the bed. She tuts as you speak. "Uh uh, remember what I said." More whines fill her ears, she fucking loved it. Soaking up every delicate sound you made. "Billi please I've been g-" A hand is met with your mouth. "Don't even think about finishing that sentence." Your eyes roll.
Letting out an annoyed groan, her eyebrow raises. To which you only let out a longer one. She removes her hand from your mouth, watching you continue to make that noise. "Touch me." You seem to demand. This makes billie laugh. A laugh you only heard whenever she found something really funny. But this was more vile... Evil... Vicious. You whimper at the jeering tone she was eliciting. "I'm sorry." You pout, regretting all your past decisions that led to this moment. "But I'm loving watching you think you're controlling me instead." The pout becomes more prominent on your lips. She gets close to your face. "Who made you like this?" Her fingers go between your sticky folds. Gathering the sweet necter on her digits. Eventually bringing it to your face. "Go on baby, tell me." Her voice sounded like how velvet felt.
"Y-you." You mumbled. "Sorry what was that mama?" Her fingers go to her mouth, sucking that previous liquid that was coating them. You gulp. "You billie.." Her eyes move to yours, her fingers still in her mouth. Another hum was heard. "Good girl." You breathe out as she says that, feeling your head fall back into the sheets once more. That same finger comes in contact with your face, gently moving over the skin of your cheek. Before she moves it to your lips, you instantly open them, sucking softly. Being on your best behavior now, desperately wanting that release that she neglected earlier on. "Very, very good. Aren't you?" There was a pause. "Only when you want to be, isn't that right?" You keep silent, the most silent you've been that night.
"Don't go quiet on my now angel." You swallow thickly. Her face was inches away from your own. "Isnt. That, right." "Y-yes mommy." A satisfied grin emerges on her features, loving how you called her that. "Such a good girl, huh? ... maybe I should let you cum." Your eyes lit up. She just laughs at your patheticness. Getting up to go get the strap, attaching it to her body. She unties your restraints, letting your arms free. But not for long. She was swift in moving them above your head with one of her hands, staring deep into your soul. "Mind games until you loose control." She breathed against your lips. Your lids flutter shut, squeezing your thighs together. Failing as her legs felt you doing that, using her knees to spread them again. "Once I'm in, there ain't no letting go." She continued, slowly bringing her hand over your face.
Leading down towards your neck, she tightened just a little, watching as your eyes widen. "So pretty.." She trails off, watching the way her hand fit perfectly around your throat. "Mmm." You shut your eyes, feeling the tip prodding at your entrance. A tiny moan surfaces, her hand still holding your wrists letting her other one run from your neck, to your breasts. Very, slowly. When without any warning she takes one big thrust, immediately bottoming out. Having your eyes roll back and your mouth ajar at the insane feeling. "So tight." Your breathing becomes ragged, her pace quickens as more moans come out of you, louder. Just how she liked. If anything you were driving her insane. Not the other way round.
And exactly like before that euphoric feeling crept up making your vision blur. "Please billie please-" You begged. She adored it, she had to let it sink in. The way your whiney voice cracked. "Go on then pretty girl. Cum for me, you deserve it for being sooo good, huh?" You frantically nod as her pace quickens. Her smirk returns as you take every bit of what she's giving you. The feeling comes round, feeling it come crashing down. Gushing out all over the fake dick. She hums truly satisfied at how fucked out you were right now, your breathing slowly coming back. When all of a sudden, she removes her hand from your wrists but only to turn you over. "B-but-" "you didn't think I was done with you, did you?"
A whimper gets let out, feeling the cock still in your sensitive hole, you felt shakey after that last orgasm, trembling as she slightly moves in you.
"Too much.." you breathe sluggishly, closing your eyes as your face smushes into the sheets.
"Mm, isn't it just." .. "might I remind you that you wanted this earlier, correct? Baby."
#billie eilish smut#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish#billie eilish x reader smut#billie eilish x you#billie eilish x y/n
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The One You Need | six
🎶 I spent most my life thinkin’ love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need🎶
pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, angst, first real date, discussion of dysfunctional parental relationships, turbulent sibling relationship, joel makes reader cry [not in a mean way], cuddling, terms of endearment [sweetheart, babygirl], female reader, no physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 6.2k series masterlist | part five a/n: it’s about time, huh? (the last part was released about 10 months ago 💀 but i’m back hunni buns. and back to remembering why i love sweet, emotionally intelligent joel
Make it hurt.
Make it hurt.
The words were seared into Joel’s brain. He even saw them etched into his eyelids when he closed his eyes. If only you’d known that the man standing in the bathroom doorway, watching you get ready, had a mind reeling with worry. Instead you, leaning over the sink, carefully applying eyeliner, snuck a glance at him through the mirror and only recognized how absolutely gorgeous he was.
He’d gotten back into his jeans and green flannel, much to your dismay for the want of his bare chest, broad shoulders, and soft stomach. His arms were folded over that now covered chest, shoulder leaning against the jamb, one foot crossed over the other. Despite you having been getting ready for the better part of an hour now, it hardly looked like his patience was waning. All too willing to have nothing more than your presence for as long as you’d have him. Even when you traded in your eyeliner for the tube of mascara and pulled the firm-bristled brush over your lashes, you heard him take a deep breath but it didn’t sound like an argument to the time you were taking to doll up. After all, it was the first time Joel would see you in any amount of makeup designated for him. You chose to forget the night he’d swooped up on your porch, handgun in his waistband, and shooed your pushy date away. Though that night you hadn’t gotten made up for him.
Face painted and ready to get changed, you waltzed past him in the threshold, keen to the fact that he spun slowly to keep you in his eyeline. Even took a couple steps in the direction of your bedroom before you paused and pressed a hand to his chest, insisting he go on and wait in the living room for you. You hadn’t needed help getting dressed since you were a kid. And it wasn’t like you were getting completely dressed up. Joel was in a flannel and jeans. It was all you needed to know he wasn’t taking you to some Michelin rated restaurant. You ventured to guess he’d take you somewhere a tad nicer than a diner, where food that would stick to your bones was served. So you emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later and pulled the door shut behind you until it clicked back on itself. His boots created soft thuds on the hardwood floor where he paced, waiting, anticipating.
All that stopped when you came into view.
You stood, arms held out to the side to show off the long, simple dress you’d thrown on. Something probably better suited for a day of peak summer day-drinking instead of a dinner date night nearing autumn. But you looked up into Joel’s eyes, seeing if you could figure out what he was thinking before he said it, and it wasn’t hard to do so. It was all written on his face. The way those dark brown eyes darted away from your face and down to the dress and the way the fabric flowed around your legs; a slit in the cotton skirt of it showing just the smallest hint and promise of the skin beneath. His jaw hung slack, forgetting to maintain whatever class or politeness he may’ve felt was deserved. And then all he did was shake his head, eyebrows raised, bouncing a curl loose over his forehead.
“Good?”
“You look…” he shook his head again, advancing upon you with outstretched arms that eventually found purchase at your waist. Fingers dug firmly into it, squeezing. “You look great… beautiful,”
Though you could tell that’s what he thought, hearing him say the word made your heart jump into your throat. He kept ogling, staring, and now up close. Heat rose in your cheeks and you clutched your hands over his biceps gently, urging him back. “Should we get going?”
He nodded and took your cue. A few quick steps toward your front door and he was pulling it open with a protective and secure hand on your lower back as you passed by. It all started to feel very… adolescent. Like he’d picked you up from home, all nerves and anxiety. Like you hadn’t already seen each other naked a handful of times. Like he hadn’t already been informed of the way you seemed to get a little more turned on when he choked you. The way he opened the front door, and then stood by your side, hand still on your back when you descended the porch steps. How you crossed the street together like that, smiling and talking to each other. You weren’t sure if he noticed but you sure did. Noticed that Mrs. Cole was knitting on her front porch when you passed by, and how she stood from that rocking chair and made for the house as quickly as her old bones could take her, calling for her husband. Or the way Kelly… poor Kelly… paused her progress on helping her kid out of his booster seat in the car and stared, having to witness the man she wasn’t a match for, parade down the street with the new neighbor who seemed to be.
That one made you bow your head, trying to avoid not only her gaze, but Joel’s as well. Had your initial resistance to men and relationships been a game? One that the very core of his primal being couldn’t help but want to chase? Had you trapped him here in a false promise that if he caught you and won, there’d be a prize at the end? There was a very obvious and adult way of figuring that out. You could ask him. Talk it out and see what was there. But that would require you to make it real. To say that you were noticing something between you two, and if he noticed that too, which he surely would after you’d brought it up. So you swallowed it and smiled graciously to him as he pulled open the passenger side door of his truck and helped you up into it.
Once you were settled, he closed the door and circled the truck to his side, wasting no time in getting in the driver’s seat and starting the engine. The truck was in gear in no time, and right as he started off down the street, through the neighborhood, past all the nosy, small-town neighbors, he reached over and placed his hand on your thigh. Wrapping his fingers around it and giving a soft squeeze. You could feel his eyes shifting to you. Back and forth from the road to you; inspecting. And fearing that a conversation you wanted to delay would arise, you kept your gaze out the window. Downtown Austin was coming into view but Joel wasn’t exactly taking the route to get you to it.
“Slide on over here,”
Finally, you looked at him. He was already looking back at the road, but his hand on your thigh tightened and pulled, urging you closer to him. Closer meant he wouldn’t have as good of a view of your face, so you obliged. Moved yourself across the bench and settled in next to him, where his arm released your thigh and migrated up around your shoulders. His hand hung limp just over you.
“Nervous?” He asked and shook you gently. And being met with a questioning expression, he pressed a smile. “You’re kinda quiet,”
“Just thinking,”
“Uh oh,”
You nudged into his side, earning a more authentic smile and even a little chuckle. Foregoing focus on driving for a split second, he pressed his lips against your temple. “Wanna talk ‘bout it?”
A quick shake of the head was all you were hoping to have to do to dismiss the topic. Tell him? About how it was scaring the hell out of you that despite your best efforts and consciousness, you were somehow becoming dependent on him. Absolutely not.
Joel took a deep breath. He’d caught the shake of your head from the corner of his eye, and with your lack of clarification, his brain – which had already been on a witch hunt of its own – picked back up where it had left off. Only now you weren’t in front of the mirror with things that could be turned into eye weapons. You were just here. Next to him. Curled beneath his arm. And he couldn’t get this convoluted duality to quiet down. The one where part of it was riddled with this gentle caring and acceptance of what this was, and the other part that resulted in him finding his handprint on more than one spot on your body.
“I’ve been thinkin’ too, and I…”
He leaned forward in his seat, glancing out the side view mirror before he veered into the left lane. The silence gave you time to look up at him and study his face. The graying scruff at his jaw nearly meeting the curls that had grown long enough to wrap at his neck.
“M’not sayin’ I didn’t enjoy it. I think it’s obvious I did,” he cleared his throat, attempting to get the image of you bent over the kitchen counter out of his head. His hand circled the steering wheel, fingers outstretched to make the right hand turn, before circling it back, getting it straight again. “Guess I’m tryna figure it out…” he paused and shook his head, deciding to ask a different way, “did your parents comin’ over have anything to do with… it,”
Your eyebrows furrowed, confusion sweeping through you. And figuring his brain was cannibalizing itself more than yours was, you set your hand in his lap and squeezed his thigh, giving him the permission to continue.
“You askin’ me to make it hurt,” his eyes flicked down at you. All you could do was cower a bit more into his side, but he lost the nerve to keep his eyes on you, and shook his head softly again. “I know you said I did what you asked, but I think I might’ve gone a bit overboard and actually hurt you, and…” he cleared his throat again. “If you asked because your parents showed up, and fuckin’ an older guy sorts out daddy issues, I… guess what I’m tryin’ to say is that’s alright if that’s what this is, but I need to know. ‘Cause then you’re saying stuff like you’re mine. And I know that was during sex, and I wouldn’t want to be held accountable for everything I say during sex, but…” He looked back down at you, the realization that he’d gone ranting catching up with him.
Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, the drive was over. Truck now sat in a crowded parking lot. The world could look in and get a glimpse of something you’d rather have been doing in private. But Joel removed his arm from around your shoulders so he could turn the keys and pull them out of the ignition. “I can’t be the guy that marks up a woman like that,”
“Joel,”
“Not when she says stuff like she’s mine and… yeah I don’t care if it was just a during-sex thing.” He took a breath and cleared his throat, “so I don’t think I’m gonna be able to do that with you again. The really rough stuff. Maybe if you were a one night stand. But you’re not. You’re… you,”
“What’s that mean?”
He glanced at you sideways and pushed his door open, “means we’re on a date. Stay there,” he slid out of his truck and slammed the door shut behind him.
And even if you had been so inclined to move, Joel cut you off by hustling around the front of the truck so he could make it to the passenger-side door first. He tugged on the handle and held the door open for you; his free hand coming down for you to steady yourself on the jump out of the cab. You, however, growing uncomfortable with his honesty, stepped out of the truck by yourself, choosing to forego his help. That was the absolute very least you could do.
If there was any thought or hope that at some point through dinner you’d both snap out of it and return to the chemistry you so obviously had in private, that was squashed by the time the waiter set your plates down in front of you. Conversation had waned – nay, come to a complete stop – and your drinks were the only things keeping your mouths busy.
“Thank you,” you smiled up at the waiter. A quick flick of your eyes to Joel had you seeing that he’d gone straight for his fork and knife, even refusing to say a word to the waiter. Who, also feeling the awkwardness in the air, left your table as fast as humanly possible.
“You gotta tell me what’s going on,” Joel all but demanded.
“What do–”
Beautiful, divine providence. That’s all that could be said for the way your phone started vibrating in your purse at that very moment. And under any normal circumstance, you would’ve ignored it completely. But it was a sign from God. A get out of jail free card. Only you did just that – scoured through your purse with your hand in the shape of a ‘search claw’ and rifled around until you felt it buzzing against your fingers. Another quick glance at Joel to find his expression now purely unimpressed, before you looked down at your phone screen. And seeing the name across it, you wished you hadn’t seen it at all.
Joel noted how you re-hid your phone in your purse by clearing his throat. When it grabbed your attention again, he raised his eyebrows, “talk to me. And don’t say it’s nothin’.” He pushed a forkful of food into his mouth, and just when you opened your mouth to say something, he beat you to the punch, “be honest.”
“I’m not just fucking an old man to get over daddy issues, I’m fucking an old man because I like him,” you glared, a little meaner than you thought you’d be.
“Don’t pull punches,” he smiled.
“My mom is weak. My dad’s a steam roller. And I’ve spent my entire life being pitted against my sister in a battle of which one is prettier and which one is smarter. One of us was supposed to find a man to take care of her, and the other was supposed to get a career and take care of herself. Guess which one I am.” You lifted your wine glass to your lips, thankful this place had a somewhat palatable house red. “I asked you to make it hurt because I wanted to feel something. Something that overshadowed the things that their presence evokes in me. And if I’m being completely honest, I asked you to make it hurt because I like you. Because if you hurt me, I mean, really hurt me… even if it’s just in this way, then I can chalk you up as being like every other guy. No good,”
“You–”
“But I fucked up,” you interrupted him and set your wine glass back down. Cocked your head to the side and shook it absently. “Because you didn’t just hurt me like I asked you to. You fucking took care of me after. You ruined my plan,”
“Sorry,” he smirked.
You shook your head again. This time with more intent, “and Kelly saw us walking to your truck. She knows. And it looked like it broke her heart all over again. So I think we should stop doing this and you should give her another chance,”
“What about what I think?”
“Be able to give you the type of relationship you want. I think she’d make you really happy,”
“You make me happy,” he sat back in his chair and pressed a wide smile when that made your eyes return to his fully. “At least you do for now. Think you’re gonna be a pain in my ass in fifteen to twenty years, but maybe I’ll be dead by then,”
“Joel–”
“You know what I think?” He paused for effect but wasn’t actually looking for an answer from you. “I think it’s fucked your parents pitted you against your sister, knowingly or not. I think it’s fucked up that you were made to believe you’re only smart. I think you’re fuckin’ gorgeous. I think you should stop bein’ so afraid of wanting something. Or someone. And I think you should let me try and get you to fall in love with me.”
“Fall in love with you?” You exhaled in a way that sounded like a laugh of disbelief. “Good luck,”
He lifted his beer bottle, “don’t think it’ll be too hard. ‘Cause here’s the thing,” he scooted forward in his chair, a smirk growing across his lips as he leaned over the table toward you, “you ain’t never had a man take care of you before, and now you’re gettin’ a taste of it. You don’t know what it’s like to let a man in and let him love you. You won’t let yourself. Hell, you didn’t even know sex was supposed to come with aftercare.”
“Did too,” it dawned on you that you sounded more like a petulant child than a full-fledged adult.
“Yeah, you tryna sneak outta my house after the first time because I was gone a couple minutes… Sweetheart, you don’t even know what love looks like.” He took a sip of his beer, “how could you know something if it was never taught to you?”
You bit the inside of your cheek to try and keep the tears you felt burning in your eyes at bay. “What’re you trying to do? Make me feel stupid?”
Joel pursed his lips. His eyebrows furrowed and you couldn’t help but notice but the best description for the expression he now gave was remorseful. “To you, bein’ stupid must feel like the worst thing you could be, huh?” His eyes searched yours for affirmation to his question and found more than enough of it. “It’s not. And you’re not,” Joel reached forward and took your hand when you tried to grab at your wine glass again. He intertwined his fingers with yours and squeezed them tight, holding on despite you fighting him to pull away. “You’re not stupid,”
“Joel,”
“You hear me? You’re not stupid,”
“Stop it, Joel,” you pleaded, the first tear falling from your eye, trailing a wet line down your cheek.
“You’re not, babygirl,”
Finally you’d manage to pull your hand out of his grasp and raised both to your face, covering your eyes. You wouldn’t let him see you cry; to show your weakness. Your chest bounced and the breath caught in your throat as you tried to stifle your sobs. For the only thing worse than Joel seeing you cry, was the entire restaurant seeing you cry. And you’d either been at it for longer than you thought, or he managed to pay for the bill rather quickly, but either way, the next thing you knew was you were being hauled up to your feet. Joel kept a hand on your elbow and the other on your upper back. His thumb and index finger cradling the base of your neck to guide you safely out of the restaurant despite your head being bowed.
“Almost back at the car, sweetheart,” he murmured in your ear.
You figured as much. You’d taken far too many steps to not be back at his truck by this point. Just a few more steps. A few more staggered breaths as calmness still evaded you. Then you were pulled to a halt and Joel reached forward for the door handle. He’d only manage to tug the passenger door open before you were turning into him, standing up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms over his shoulders. Your face buried into the crook of his neck.
“I gotcha, babygirl. I got you,” he kept his arms embraced around you tightly. Squeezed you to his body and kissed your temple in the same moment you pressed your lips to his neck for a kiss.
He rocked you side to side, almost like what you’d do to a baby to soothe them. And whether it was the motion, or the smell of him, or the feel of his lips on the side of your head while he whispered all the gentle things you’d always wished a man in your life would say…
You’re alright, sweetheart.
I’m proud of you.
You’re safe.
You’re not stupid.
And all these things that sounded a little bit like I love you.
Your breathing evened out. Lungs filled with fresh air that also smelled like his cologne. Once you lowered yourself from your toes and returned to your normal height, you looked up at him and sniffled. If he could like you looking like this, he could like you anytime. And Joel, always unwavering, pinned a genuine smile to his face when you showed him your face again. He lifted his hands and cupped your cheeks; thumbs wiping away the wet trails your tears had left behind.
“Sorry,” you shook your head, giving him an exaggerated pout.
He shook his head in return, “no, no. You been carryin’ this weight a long time.” He wiped his thumbs over your cheeks again, this time with a nod. “Don’t I look like a big, strong man that can carry some of it?”
You looked up into his eyes, really hoping that what you’d find was yes, he did look like someone to carry some of the weight. You also hoped that if that was indeed what you found, that it wouldn’t scare you away immediately. “Take me home, Joel.”
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
Home.
Such an odd word to use with him.
Home.
What was that? Your house? His house? Either one as long as he was there? Maybe in this state you were just inclined to read too much into your own words. Let fear build in the recesses of your brain and wonder if they’d be the thing that would eventually scare him off. You figured it was just your own mind playing tricks on you. Making you believe the worst before it ever happened, as if to ensure that it would. A self-fulfilling prophecy.
Joel certainly wasn’t making you feel that way. Not on the entire drive back home. One of his hands on the steering wheel, the other stroking over the back of your head, playing with your hair. Him checking in with you every time a red light stopped your forward progress. Y’alright? And the gentle smile he’d return when you assured him yes. Not when he walked you back up to your front door and waited for you to unlock it. His hand remained on your lower back, his thumb dragging lazy circles over the fabric of your dress. Not when you asked if he’d come in and his answer was an immediate and resolute, of course.
And surely not now when you returned to your bedroom and found him lounging back in your bed in his underwear, ogling you when you walked in in nothing but the green flannel he was wearing earlier. The buttons undone. The fabric undulating against your body. Desire and lust flared up in his eyes as you crawled up on the bed.
“C’mere,” he cocked his head back, inviting you forward to his lap.
Legs straddled his waist with ease as if it had been a move you’d been perfecting with him for years. His hands folded to your thighs. Strong fingers wrapped around supple flesh. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want you to stay over tonight.” You glanced to the side where Joel was already staring at you. “I’m exhausted,”
He chuckled and closed his eyes, turning his head straight again, “wasn’t planning on staying. Your bed fucked up my back.”
“My bed’s not the–”
Joel squeezed your thighs once, twice, quickly, “shh, c’mere, I wanna tell you a secret.”
You furrowed your eyebrows and pressed your hands to his chest. “What?”
“Come closer,” he whispered, very nearly forcing you to lean in just to be able to hear him.
So you did. Crowded his personal space and leaned in, very ready to turn your head to the side to get your ear closer to his mouth for this so-called secret. But Joel lifted his hand and took hold of your chin before you could turn it away from him. He held you there, and as your eyes widened in confusion, you noticed how his gaze danced over your face – from your eyes, to your nose, mouth, down to your chin where his grip grew gentler, and all the way back up to your eyes. And you opened your mouth to once again ask what the secret was, but your lips parted and before any noise could slip out, Joel met you the rest of the way. Leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, softly and then all at once. He inhaled deeply and upon releasing your chin, cupped his hand over the side of your face; fingers cradling the back of your head while his thumb stroked over your cheek.
You parted slightly, catching your breath, “that’s a good secret.”
“Got somethin’ else to tell you,” he hummed, not wasting any time in getting you back into a kiss.
You smiled softly against his lips, allowing your tongue to meet his as it searched for entrance into your mouth. Finding it, a gravelly moan escaped his lungs, hung in the air between you for just a moment, until you swallowed it down. Beneath you, you could feel his length growing harder. Joel, too, let you know that he was aware of it. He let out another hum of recognition and reached around you with his free hand, ducking it beneath your ass, and tugged on the fabric of his underwear.
With another breath, you pulled away from him and set your forehead against his. Eyes pinned downward, focused on your hands on his chest. Fingers dancing over the dusting of hair down the center. “D’you want me to blow you?”
His response was instantaneous. First by shaking his head. Then by the way he leaned in and pecked your lips, and the hand on your cheek drifted down to your shoulder and held you. “No… I–” he rested his head back on the wall behind your bed, “are you okay? I didn’t mean to make you cry earlier.”
For the second time that night, you opened your mouth to say something. To tell him it was alright. You know he didn’t mean to do that. And for the second time that night, your phone interrupted you. There on the nightstand, the whole thing buzzed. The wood tabletop seemed to accentuate the noise and both you and Joel turned to look at it. You know he saw the name flash across the top. And knew he clocked the way you leaned over to quickly turn the screen black again, sending the call to voicemail. It wasn’t the first time you’d done that tonight either.
“Y’wanna get that?” he prodded gently. But you were quick to shake your head and return to your spot on top of him, taking him into another kiss. He took your shoulder again and eased you back. “Might be important if they keep callin’,”
“It’s just my sister,”
Joel’s eyebrows raised. Eyes widened. The very sister that so much of your inner baggage was tied up with. He didn’t want to press. Didn’t want to urge you to divulge too much and end up in tears again. He knew he was treading choppy water.
“I’ll call her back tomorrow,” you mumbled, sounding less than enthused. Running your fingers through his graying scruff, you tried to ignore the fact that you really would have to call her back tomorrow. “Sure you don’t want me to blow you?”
He shook his head again. More insistent this time. “Just want to cuddle up with you before you kick me out for the night,”
You smiled, almost to yourself as you leaned forward, turning your head to the side and resting your cheek on his chest. Legs straddled his lap, arms wrapped around his torso, You couldn’t have been closer to him if you tried. A yawn torn you, absolutely exhausted from the entire day. The fact that your parents had been there that morning seemed like a lifetime ago.
Nuzzling into Joel, you let out a sigh, “your time tonight’s running short.”
He let out a chuckle, and the next thing you felt was his lips pressing down to the top of your head. A subtle nod of acknowledgment.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
You woke up due to a shuffling around your bedroom. Squinting into the sunlight that poured in through the window, you spotted Joel pulling his jeans up his legs. He fastened the button and looked in your direction.
“Mornin’,” he looked around, searching for his flannel that you’d thrown off sometime during the night. “I’ve got an early job,”
You nodded and pointed him in the direction of the foot of the bed where you knew he’d find his shirt. “So much for not staying the night,”
He followed your tip and retrieved the garment from off the floor, quickly sliding it on and doing up the buttons, “yeah, my back’s paying for it.” Rounding back to your side of the bed, he bent forward and kissed your forehead, “you wanna come over tonight?”
Foregoing everything but a nod, you let your tired eyes drift back shut. The next thing you felt were his lips on yours, giving a chaste kiss. It almost made you think you could do this every morning for the rest of your life.
Sometime between Joel using the bathroom and leaving the house, you fell back asleep. Taken back to recuperate from the previous day. Looking forward to doing nothing but lounging around and knowing you’d actually have to put in some work today. Two hours later when you woke again, the rest of the neighborhood had too. The sounds of the suburbs seeping in through your old single-paned windows. Note to self, get Joel to replace those with double-paned.
Rising from bed and starting your morning routine, you noted all the other things around the house you’d have to ask Joel to do. Fix that annoying drip of your shower head. Replace the kitchen faucet to something not so antique looking. Blow out your dryer vent so you didn’t accidentally burn the house down. As you added each thing to the mental to-do list, it became increasingly more frightening how much you needed him to do. How much you needed him. And if that just didn’t make your coffee taste like tar.
It really started to weigh on you. How dependent you were on him being around. How you were spending practically every night with him. Thankfully, the buzzing of your phone pulled your attention away from cynical thoughts. Even if it was your sister calling again. Surely talking to her would be less painful than the rabbit hole in your brain.
“Hi–what?” You furrowed your eyebrows trying to make sense of your sister’s frantic words. It almost made you feel guilty for sending her to voicemail the previous night. “What’re you talking about?” Another pause but her voice didn’t get any less agitated. “Slow down, I can’t understand you,”
Once she took a breath you were able to catch up on her rant. And what you’d gathered was unfortunately something you’d seen had been a long time coming. New parents with a single income in southern California, your sister was cluing into the fact that her husband – the father of her baby – wasn’t exactly the dad she hoped he’d be. You wondered why she was surprised by his absent-mindedness. He hadn’t gone to any of her appointments. He hadn’t waited on her when she was nauseous or doubled over in pain. In fact, he didn’t do much of anything for her in the nine months of what you’d heard had been a pretty hard pregnancy. So her surprise at his absence now that the baby was here was baffling. But here she was, complaining to you about how he leaves for work early in the morning, and comes back in the evening. And though she too had spent the entire day working – as a mother – he didn’t help her with the baby when he got back home. He sat around, waiting for her to cook dinner, and change the baby, and feed and bathe the baby. He bitched at her if the house wasn’t tidied up. Shit, he hardly even acknowledged the baby.
And though you wanted to ask her why she was surprised – this is who he’d always shown himself to be – you knew that wasn’t helpful. This was your sister’s new reality. Surely she was growing aware of what a mistake it had been to be to hitch her wagon to him. And you pointing that out wouldn’t change anything. It would still be a mistake.
“What can I do?” It was the only remotely helpful thing you could think to say. And it was genuine. You imagined venturing into motherhood was hard enough. Doing so as if you were a single parent when you expected to have the support of a partner must’ve added to the difficulty. So when she told you the thing that would be helpful, you agreed immediately.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
If Joel’s back wasn’t hurting enough before work, it surely was after. He limped up the stairs to his front door. One hand clutching the railing and the other clutching his lower back. The perfect night was looking like it’d include a heating pad and a lot of whiskey. He hoped you wouldn’t mind.
In fact, he’d just poured himself his first glass of whiskey when he heard the knock on the front door. Figured you saw him come home. He was going to be sure to make fun of you for watching him out your front window again. All ready to give you a good ribbing, he tugged open his front door with a big smile on his face. But upon seeing you, that vanished entirely. A large rolling suitcase was beside you. A carry-on sized duffel pack in your hands.
“Goin’ on a trip?”
“I’m goin’ to my sister’s house,”
His breath caught in his throat. He remembered all the calls you’d avoided the previous night. Wondered how catastrophically wrong it had gone for you to be leaving. “Why?”
“I don’t know when I’m gonna be back,”
“Can you come in so we can talk?” He stepped to the side to allow you space to come in. He wasn’t prepared for you to deny him.
“I have to catch my plane,”
“Is this because of yesterday?” He cocked his head to the side figuring you weren’t bound to tell him the absolute truth. Yet, he surmised he knew the real reason. “You’re spooked,”
“What?”
He nodded. Hit the nail on the head. “Something clicked in for you about us and now you’re spooked. Running away,”
“Am not,”
“Okay. Then tell me,”
“Joel, I have to go,”
“I’m not trying to trap you,” he murmured and stepped out toward you. “I don’t know what exactly got you spooked, but I’m guessing it probably has to do with me being around so much. Maybe I’m doin’ too much for you. Gotta get you to mow your damn lawn,”
“Joel–”
“I’m just trying to take care of you,”
“I don’t need you to take care of me.”
“I know,” he nodded and cupped his hand to the back of your head. “But I want to. And I can. If you’ll let me,”
“I gotta go Joel,” you pressed back against his hand, but he did he best to keep you in place.
“Give me a kiss,”
You knew it was probably the wrong thing to do given that you truly didn’t know when you’d come back. If you would come back, or if you’d spend some time back in California and end up selling your home here. You knew it’d be easier to cut him off here. But his lips looked so soft and you yearned to feel them at least one more time. So you did as he asked and leaned in for a kiss. Let him cradle your head with all the fondness in the world and give you the most tender kiss you imagined existed.
Joel didn’t want to let you go. He knew if he did, each day that passed increased the likelihood he’d never see you again. But you eventually won out. Pulled away enough that your lips parted and you took a step back. You stared up at him, not fearing his gaze, almost as if hoping to sear his image into your memory. Then with a sheepish nod, you turned with your suitcase and walked off his porch and to the awaiting car he hadn’t even noticed had pulled up to whisk you away from him.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fluff#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#joel miller au#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#the one you need
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Looking for attention
C.S 🔞
“Chriiiiiissssss..” I whine out for the third time, sitting up by his headboard while he’s sat at his desk, eyes glued to the monitor before him as his fingers click away on his keyboard and the occasional curse leaves his lips when he gets knocked in fortnite. He’d been sitting in that same position for hours, clearly enjoying his time as he laughed away with his friends over his headset and continued to disregard my huffs of protest.
I pout a bit, standing and making my way towards his chair to sit on his lap..which he accepts. Not sparing me a glance as he wraps his arm around my waist to continue clicking at his keyboard unbothered.
I’m facing him, taking in the concentrated look on his face. His furrowed brows and narrowed eyes making him look all the more sexier than he usually does, making me want him more than I already did for the past hour. I bite at my lower lip subconsciously, now situating myself to straddle his right thigh as i place my hands on his chest.
“Chris, mute it for a sec.” I say. Despite him not sparing a glance, he reaches his hand up to his headset and presses down on the button beside it, ensuring his friends won’t hear our conversation before his eyes finally lift up to meet mine. His expression is a bit blank but i notice his eyes are fogging with clouds of lust from the feeling of my core against his knee. My hands roam his chest before landing at his shoulders, using them as leverage when i sit further up his lap. Now straddling his upper thigh close to his bulge.
“Please baby, you’ve been playing all day. Can I play with you a bit?” I mumble, leaning down to leave soft kisses against his neck and exposed collarbones from his black tank top. My hands squeezing his shoulders before raking my nails down his arms softly, making him shiver a bit in his seat. He looks at me, and then his monitor.
“Y/n, wait until this game is over. For real.” I whine again against his neck, having already heard that excuse twice in the last 30 minutes.
“But I want you so badly, please.” My hips begin to rock back and fourth slowly against his thigh, slightly moaning out at the hint of relief between the heat of my legs. Chris’ body tenses up slightly, beginning to feel the blood rush to his cock when his neck heats up. I smirk against the skin when I feel how burning hot his neck had become and i bite down on the skin, sucking harshly and leaving my mark. Chris grunts before shaking his head,
“If you wanna get off on my leg like a stupid dog instead of waiting 10 minutes, you do that. But don’t make a fucking sound. Got it?” He says simply, not giving me a chance to respond before he’s unmuting his mic and returning to clicking away. I nod in agreement to myself, a blush creeping up my face at his degrading words before I began biting down on more of his skin to silence any sounds i might make when i grind down onto him harder, my hips finding a solid rhythm against him and my noises threatening to spill out when the material of his jeans swipes against the thin material of my shorts covering my clit repeatedly. I breath out shakily and continue my actions, building up a faster and needier pace as i grip onto his shoulders harder.
“Fuck!” Chris shouts, doing an awful good job at distracting himself from the position i’m in when his character gets sniped in the head. The sudden jolt of his body from the reaction causing a whimper to fall past my lips due to the feeling of his thigh pressing harder against my clit. Chris is now painfully aware of my presence when the match ends, fully taking in the feeling of my wet core grinding onto his lap and my needy hands holding onto his shoulders for dear life. The shouting and huffing from his friends on the mic goes unheard by him, suddenly falling deaf against any noises that weren’t coming from my own lips. His gaze is locked onto my face, taking in my pinched shut eyes and my mouth falling open while my eyebrows furrowed, now rutting against him and chasing my high that’s burning through my stomach. Chris doesn’t even realize his hand is reaching to mute his mic and pull the headset off his head until my noises become louder and clearer due to his ears now being uncovered. He sits still, slightly flexing his thigh and watching. His own expression slowly but surely scrunching into one of pleasure that mirrors my own just by watching me use him to get off. His mouth is slightly agape and he carries that same concentrated expression, except now he’s only focused on watching my orgasm wash over me. I’m taken aback slightly as a gasp leaves my lips when he reaches his hands around my back, rubbing it and finding my hips with his fingers before he grips them and guides my pussy over his now hard cock. Controlling my movements by rocking my hips against his dick and bucking his hips up slightly. Now feeling as desperate as I was,
“You having fun? Huh? Using me to make yourself cum like a dirty lil whore?” He breathes into my ear, practically trying to fuck me through our layers of clothes from how harsh his grip is now, rutting his hips upward and constantly stimulating my clit with the rough material clinging to him.
I nod my head as I squeeze my eyes shut harder, almost forgetting to breathe as I feel my orgasm on the tip of my tongue. Tingles running through my spine and up my neck from now turned on i am. My body is pressed directly against his and there’s something about the extra fabrics between us that makes grinding onto him feel all the more pleasurable. I throw my head back and let out unapologetic whines, feeling my orgasm crash over me and soak through my panties onto his clothed lap. My hands finding the back of his neck to pull his lips against mine roughly, silencing my moans by shoving them down his throat while i ride out my high. Chris moans himself, being so turned on by the entire experience as he shoves his tongue into my mouth, letting it roam every inch and suck harshly onto my tongue to swallow every noise i make. His hips are still rutting against mine desperately, his grunts echoing through my brain as our lips touch and we breathe in each others face. So caught up in the pleasure and drowning in each others satisfying expressions.
I pull back, running my hands down his chest again and leaning to palm my hand over his clothed crotch, pouting at how hard he is while he continues to try and rub me against him further.
Before i could dip my hand into his pants, his hands are under my ass, lifting me swiftly as he stands to his feet. My legs wrap around his waist instinctively, holding onto him tighter at his sudden movements. He moved toward his bed, laying me down against it and kissing me roughly while he continues grinding himself against me from the edge of his bed, taking advantage of my legs being spread out around his body. His hands are hungrily roaming my entire body, gripping at the flesh and moving down to bite at my skin as lust takes over his senses.
“You’ve got my attention now, i’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll wish we never started.”
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets smut#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets x reader#chris sturniolo x reader
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what have you done to me? (c.s)
master list
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: swearing
preview: you and Chris have been friends for a long time. everyone has teased how good of a couple you'd be. but Chris has always shot down the rumors. you never looked at him that way. but Chris on the other hand? he's been acting off.
a/n: I love mamma mia and obviously I love chris, so I have decided to write this inspired by one of the scenes from the movie. but with my twist of course. hope you enjoy!
you wake up with the light hitting your face from it peeking through the curtains. you rubbed your eyes as you grabbed your phone. to see a text from Nick.
nick
y/n wake up! you have to help us prepare for today!
you lay your head back smiling as you reply. today the triplets have planned a trip to the beach. inviting a bunch of people from school. it wasn't really your thing but Nick, Matt, and mostly Chris convinced you on going.
y/n
i'm sorry for waking up so late. I was up all night tossing and turning. i'll be there as soon as I finish getting ready!
you get out of bed as you walked over to your bathroom. you do your morning routine. brushing your teeth, washing your face, and you ended up shaving your legs. you don't remember the last time you've been to the beach. to be completely honest, you didn't even know how to swim.
you go to your closet as you scrummage through your drawers trying to find a swim suit. after a minute of searching, you find a flattering blue two piece where the top is strapless. you put it on as you stare at yourself in the mirror. it complimented your body very well. you smile a bit before putting on ripped shorts and a crocheted cover up top. you packed your tote bag with extra clothes. just in case you actually go in the water.
you pick up your phone wondering why Chris hasn't texted. he usually is the one texting and blowing up your phone. but he didn't today. "that's odd." you whisper to yourself.
Chris' POV
today I woke up with a thought in my head. which i've been having these past days. me and y/n have been friends for years. she practically looked at me and my brothers as her own siblings. but I couldn't push the thought out of my head. I could hear my heart pounding when I thought about it.
i put a pillow over my face as I laid there and sighed. Chris you're being delusional i said in my head. I took the pillow off my face and reached for my phone. I clicked on her contact, going to text her, but, I stop myself. I shake my head as I put my phone back down. I need to stop with the thoughts. she's my best friend. nothing more. despite what everybody says.
"Christopher! have you texted y/n? it's already 10 a.m!" nick yells out at me. "no I have not." I said stepping out my room. he looks at me while shaking his head, "why not? she has to help us out." he says grabbing his phone, "I have to do everything myself like always!" he continues on. Matt lets out a laugh as I roll my eyes walking to the bathroom.
End of Chris' POV
you grab your keys as you head out the door. you get into your car and buckle up pulling out your phone to connect your music. the triplets lived 10 minutes away so you texted the group chat saying you were on your way. you drive as you hum to the music playing.
Chris' POV
"she's on the way!" nick yells out practically jumping. "at least I'd finally get some help." he continues as Matt and I roll our eyes.
as time passes by, we hear the door bell ring. shit. it's her. Nick runs to the door and opens it with a big smile. "finally!" he screeches out. they both hug as I lock eyes with her. they pull away from each other and she walks up to me hugging me. "why haven't I heard from you?" she says curious. "I didn't have time to text. I was busy getting ready." I lie with a small smile. "Chris your hair is still a mess and you're in your pajamas. i'm pretty sure you're not ready." she says laughing.
i roll my eyes before replying, "whatever. you don't need to know everything." she smiles going to hug Matt. "so... what is the plan for right now?" she says grabbing a water from the fridge. "well we have to head to the store and buy a few things. I told everyone to bring whatever they want." Nick says. "then what are we doing standing around?" she says with a smile, "lets go!" she shouts happily. "wait! I'm not ready." I say. "then go Christopher!" Nick shouts at me. Matt and y/n laugh at Nick's words. I ran to my room and got ready.
End of Chris' POV
as you guys waited for Chris to finish up, you sat on their counter thinking. why did he lie? a very obvious lie. he's acting so strange. he couldn't even keep eye contact with you. you shrugged it off. it bothered you because he was your best friend and you wanted him to tell you everything. Chris finally finishes getting ready and you guys put your shoes on heading out the door.
you all take the mini van with Matt driving, Nick in the passenger seat, and you in the backseat with Chris. you all buckle up as you hear Nick speak, "here we go!" you giggle at his enthusiasm. as Matt starts driving, you glance at Chris trying to read his face. he was too busy on his phone. he looked normal even though his actions said other wise.
you guys finally arrived at the store. you guys get out of the car, walking inside. you see Nick gasp right away. "fruit platter!" he exclaims. showing you guys, holding it like a prize. you laugh as Chris joins. "nobody wants a fruit platter Nick. come on, head towards the chips aisle." Matt says, walking past Nick grabbing him by the shirt lightly. Nick pouts jokingly. you hold in a laugh. you all follow along. you guys grabbed a few bags of chips and grabbed some candy, along with some cans of soda. Pepsi, Dr pepper, and Sprite.
Nick ended up paying for everything. “thank you for helping me carry these bags y/n. since these two couldn’t do it” Nick says in a sarcastic tone. “didn’t seem like you needed help.” Chris says as you giggle at the response. “yeah no problem Nick.” you say with a smile, putting the bags in the back seat, in between you and Chris. after the store, you guys finally start heading to the beach. it was already close to 1 p.m.
y/n's POV
the car ride wasn't mostly quiet. the only thing quiet was between me and Chris. usually, he's the one talking the most, being the loudest. but he was so glued to his screen not even looking at me. it's starting to worry me. I decided to tap him, but by the time he looks at me, the car stops and Matt says, "we're here!" I turned to look out the window, "oh wow. looks like we're late to our own party." I say looking at the group of people messing around. there was people dancing to music, people in the ocean, and a group of people just sitting around talking. i went to turn back to Chris but he already was in the middle of getting out the car. i sighed as i got out myself. Matt and Chris carried all the bags because they were told to by Nick since they didn’t help at the store. we all walk up to a free spot. i unfold the blanket from my tote bag and lay it out. Matt and Chris lay down the bags on top of it. “i’m going to go greet people!” Nick says with a big smile as he walks off with Matt. Chris looks at me, “you okay staying here?” he says. i nod with him nodding back walking away to a group. I stand there looking around as I see one of my friends come up to me. Grayson. he was tall and muscular. i'm not going to lie, I find him quite attractive but, it wasn't anything more. "hello y/n" he says flashing a smile at me. “hello grayson” i reply with a smile. we decided to talk while he passes me a drink. “what is this?” i ask swirling the cup looking into it. “beer” he responds. but before he answers i was in the middle of taking a sip. i swallowed making a bitter face. he takes the cup away from me, “okay not your thing i see.” he says letting out a chuckle.
we both laugh together as he asks me if i want to walk around. i nod and we stand side by side just chatting. “i never see you at these type of things.” he says. “well because it’s not my type of scene. i’m only here because of the triplets.” i respond with a smile. he smiles nodding, “oh yeah. you guys are pretty close.” “yup” i say.
Chris' POV
as I was talking to a group buddies from my lacrosse team, I couldn't help but catch something with my eyes. there she was. y/n talking to Grayson. usually it didn't bother me but with the thoughts i've been having? I couldn't help but feel something. I wasn't the jealous type or the possessive type. so this was new.
i continue to take glances at them talking. glances until in a second my eyes stayed on them longer as I see y/n take off her cover up and her shorts. I tense up poking my tongue to the inside of the side of my mouth. I couldn't even look at her because I was too busy looking at Grayson look at her up and down. it infuriated me. something inside of me almost walked over there but my thoughts were interrupted by one of my team mates, "you staring won't stop them from talking Chris." he says. I roll my eyes as I just continue to sip my drink as the rest of the team laughs.
Y/n's POV
"let's get in the ocean?" Grayson says while holding his hand out. I looked at his hand and then at the ocean. “uh i don’t know. i wasn’t really planning on it.” i say trying to make an excuse. I don't know how to swim. but I didn’t want to blurt that out there. I looked at Grayson and he responds, “come on. it’s better than standing around. plus you have a bathing suit on. clearly you were going to go in.” I grabbed his hand, “okay fine but only my feet.” i say with a smile. he smiles back as he drags me closer to the water.
Chris's POV
i put my drink down as I see y/n and Grayson walk towards the water. holding hands. was she trying to drive me insane? she probably doesn’t even know what she’s doing. i mean i have been trying to avoid her today. which was stupid of me because maybe if i just talked to her she would be holding my hand. not his. it was getting harder to keep my composure. why am i being like this?
End of Chris' POV
as you and Grayson make it to the water, you let out a small yelp when your feet submerges. it was freezing. Grayson lets out a small laugh when he sees your face. as you both stand there you spoke up, "it's really cold" you let out a nervous laugh. “there’s only one way to get rid of the cold.” he says. “which is what?” you respond curiously. “by getting all the way in with no thought!” he says. next thing you know, Grayson carries you by the waist and runs with you more towards the water. you let out a playful scream. which catches Chris' attention. you hit Grayson's arms softly asking him to let you down laughing. Chris had enough. Chris walks towards the both of you and shouts, "put her down!" you and Grayson whip your head around towards Chris standing there clearly bothered. "Chris?" you say as Grayson puts you down, "what's your problem?" you continue.
"does he know you can't swim?" he says. “well no he doesn’t.” you respond with a nervous laugh. “well i don’t want to be the one having to save you so…” holding his hand out, "come on." he says seriously. Grayson steps forward a bit, "dude she's just trying to have fun." he says but Chris ignores him waiting for you to grab his hand, "lets go y/n." Chris says. but before you say anything, Chris just grabs your arm pulling you away from the muscular boy walking the both of you away from everyone.
"Chris!" you yelp as you try to get out from his grip. "let go of me!" he listens and lets you go. he's avoiding eye contact. "what is your problem?!" you say in a frustrated tone. "you barely talk to me all morning and now you want to get in between me having fun?"
"fun?" he says with a scoff, "wouldn't have been fun if I were to run into the ocean saving you if his dumb ass continued to push you more in the deep end." you scoff, "that would've been my choice! i wouldn’t need your help." you say.
Chris' POV
she can't be serious. she's mad at me for just trying to be a good friend? even though my reason for dragging her away from the situation was just because it was making me angry staring at them. because it should’ve been me and her laughing and having fun.
"answer me Chris" she says, snapping me back into the moment. "look, the truth is I couldn't stand it. I couldn't take it anymore." I stepped closer to her, "I don't know what's happening.. but you did something to me. I don't fall easily and you know this. when you're not near, I get this sudden urge of yearn. when I saw you with him? I couldn't keep watching you waste your emotions on some stupid idiot who clearly doesn't know you. this is all new to me and i’m confused. confused why all of the sudden i feel like this. but it’s you! you are making me like this. so me seeing you with him? was enough for me.” I practically shout. my heart was beating fast. anticipating for her response. she looks away and lets out a small sigh but I decided to hold her cheek making her look into my eyes. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. i was just trying to figure this all out.” i say.
"Chris..." she whispers putting her hand on my cheek as well. before she had the chance to say anything else, I pulled her in and kissed her softly but passionately. she wraps her arms around my neck kissing back. I pull away as I rub her cheek softly, “so what are you trying to say exactly Chris?” she says with a smile. all i could do was let out a nervous laugh and respond, “what i’m trying to say is… you’re my best friend and i love you. i love you more than just a best friend.” and next thing you know she jumps on me wrapping her legs and arms around me hugging me. she giggles, "i love you too Chris." she exclaims happily. I smile pulling her back in for another kiss. this is the happiest i've been. all the worries and fears left my body as soon as she laid all her love on me.
our kiss was interrupted by a familiar voice, "finally!" we pull away to see Nick shout. me and y/n looked at each other laughing as I kiss her again. feelings butterflies in my stomach. oh what have you done to me y/n?
a/n: if you get to the end where you can read this, thank you for taking the time to read! likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! leave a follow if you like my content! I will continue to upload more imagines and post random shit about the triplets. I can't wait to write more like this. make sure to check my master list. I will try to upload as much as I can!
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo fluff#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets imagines#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#imagine#x reader#mamma mia#fluff#christopher sturniolo fluff#Spotify
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CAUGHT
Warnings: G!P Reader, smut, almost getting caught
Summary: You really need to stop sneaking in through your girlfriends window.
A/N: end of the 1,000 follower special because i lost my complete draft of nasty & i hate shirt’s prologue so i have to rewrite it whenever i get the chance!
Sneaking into Tara's window was supposed to be a one time thing. She had texted you asking you to come over at midnight, and you had agreed. You had only meant to stay for a few minutes, but you ended up spending the whole night talking and laughing. You knew it was wrong, but it was worth it.
The second time you snuck through Tara's window was two days later. You had promised yourself it wouldn't happen again, but you couldn't help it. You found yourself returning to Tara's window again and again, until sneaking through her window became a regular occurrence. Soon, you discovered that the feeling of sneaking into Tara's room was not just thrilling, but comforting as well. You felt safe and secure in those late night visits, like you had a special secret between the two of you.
Sam was one protective sister and if she found out you had been sneaking through her window she would have been furious. Sam didn't even approve of you and Tara dating in the first place, so she would have been livid if she found out you were coming over late at night. She would have probably had some choice words to say, if not more. Sam was a force to be reckoned with and she wouldn't have let you get away with it. In fact, she would have likely put a stop to it immediately and made sure you never came back.
It's not like you snuck into Tara's room every single day, it was like a weekly thing to do. It felt nice to sleep next to each other even if it was for a couple of hours. You never stayed past midnight but it was enough to make you feel connected. It was a nice escape from reality.
This time, it was different. Tara didn't approach you on campus with a kiss like she usually does before asking you to sneak through her window. This time she texted you randomly at 10:18 PM. You had never seen her do that before, texting you so late. You were a bit worried, but you decided to text back and ask her what was going on.
tara <3 : can u come over
you : what's wrong?
tara <3 : please. just come over. my windows open
you : okay im omw, but is everything okay?
You pause your movements from grabbing your coat as your phone vibrates in your pocket. It's a voice message from Tara, you immediately click play, the audio playing in your right airpod. Your eyes nearly budge out of their sockets as you stare at your screen. Tara moans your name, and you can hear heavy breathing as she stutters out her message. You feel your cheeks flush with heat as you quickly shut off the message. You look around, glancing at a sleeping Chad and Ethan on the other side of your dorm room.
Forgetting about your jacket, you leave the dorm room in a hurry, almost tripping over Ethan's slides in the doorway. You take the stairs two at a time as you rush out the door, hoping to make a quick escape. As you step out into the fresh air, you walk as fast as you can to Tara's apartment, your heart pounding in your chest. You arrive at her window, opening it and calling out her name. She appears at the window, half naked, red cheeks, and a smile on her face.
"You're such a tea—" you're cut off by a pair of soft lips onto yours. You wrap your arms around her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours. You pull back, looking into her eyes and she smiles, resting a hand on the side of your neck before pulling you into a more heated kiss.
You reluctantly break away, both of you breathing heavily. She looks into your eyes before gripping your white tee, trying to pull it off your body. You look around, knowing you should stop, but you can't help but smirk as you allow her to pull it off. She then moves to your Batman pajama pants, roughly pulling them down.
She moves back and looks at you with a sly smile, her eyes roaming your body. You laugh at her before taking her into her arms, your lips meeting in a passionate kiss as you both fall onto the bed. You savor the moment, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours, straddling the shorter girl.
She smiles against your lips before pushing you away gently, her hands running over your abs. You smile at the brunette under you, "What's got you so needy?" She blushes and looks away, biting her lip. "I guess I just want you," she whispers, her eyes finding yours again. You lean back down and kiss her deeply, letting her know without words how much you want her too.
She wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you closer. You can feel her heart beating faster in her chest, and you feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Your lips leave hers, moving to attack her neck. She moans softly, her grip on you tightening. You can feel her trembling, and you know she's as lost in the moment as you are.
She pulls you even closer, her head thrown back in pleasure as you continue to explore her neck with your lips. You can feel her body trembling with anticipation, and you know you can't wait any longer.
You move your lips down to her chest, your hand moves her bra away desperately, your lips finding her hardening nipples. She gasps with pleasure as you slowly move your tongue over her nipples, teasing them into arousal. You can feel her body arching in response, her hands finding their way tangled in your hair.
You move lower, trailing kisses down her body, feeling her shudder beneath your touch. You reach her stomach, exploring her with your tongue as you make your way lower. Your hands find her hips, and you move your mouth to the place between her legs.
You feel her body tense, her breath coming in short gasps as your tongue caresses her. She murmurs softly, her pleasure evident in her voice. You move your hands to her thighs, feeling her trembling with anticipation as you continue your exploration.
"No," she gasps out. You pull away, confused. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing. She looks up at you, her eyes full of desire.
"I want your cock," she finally whispers, her voice full of need.
You smile, feeling triumphant as you pull down your underwear. She wraps her hand around your length, her touch gentle but sure. You lean in and kiss her, your tongues entwining in passion. You take her then, pushing her to heights of pleasure like she's never known before.
"Fuck." She mutters as you bottom out inside of her. You stay there for a moment, allowing her to savor the feeling before you move in and out of her in a steady, rhythmical motion. "You're so wet, Tara." You groan, gripping the pillow she rests her head on.
She throws her head back and moans in pleasure, her grip on you tightening. You can feel her muscles contracting around you, pulling you deeper into her. "Shit, shit, faster, fuck..." She screams in pleasure, her body trembling with every thrust which is harder and faster as she requested.
Tara's legs wrap around your waist, and her breathing becomes more labored as you push her closer and closer to the edge. She didn't exactly tell you Sam was home, but the idea of her being caught made her pleasure intensify. One of her hands leave your back, moving to hold your forearm as her eyes roll back in pleasure. "Oh my god...fuck, Y/N."
You let out a satisfied moan as her body shudders beneath yours. She reaches her peak before you do, her body going limp beneath you as she's filled with warmth and contentment. You lean down to kiss her softly slowing down your movements to help her ride out her high.
Sam sits up in her bed, her eyebrows furrowed as she swore she just heard the sound of moaning coming from down the hallway. But hearing it's silent, she lies back down, trying to fall back asleep. She listens for a few moments more, before deciding it was just her imagination. With a sigh, she turns over, trying to get comfortable enough to fall back asleep.
Until, she hears it again.
Tara's face is now buried in her pillow, her arms being pulled back behind her as your hips thrust into her relentlessly. She gasps in pleasure as her body moves with yours, pushing back into you with each thrust. A loud slap is heard throughout the room, followed by Tara's moans of pleasure. Her back arches as you build up to your climax, your movements becoming more and more frenzied.
You lean into Tara, letting go of her arms as you wrap a hand around her throat, pulling her back against your chest. She calls out your name as her body trembles, "Y/N...I'm about to cum..." You tighten your grip, pushing her closer to you as your other hand caresses her body. She gasps and her body quivers as you move your hand lower, and her breathing begins to deepen. "Me too, baby."
Sam angrily stomps through her apartment, her body subconsciously walking to Quinn's room. She stops in front of the door, noticing the moans still sound far away. This causes even more confusion in her brows, and she realizes it's coming from Tara's room. Her legs move even faster.
Sam slams open the door to Tara's room, only to find Tara asleep in her bed. Sam stands there, dumbfounded. She can't believe it was all a dream. She quietly closes the door and slowly walks back to her own room, her mind filled with confusion.
You let out a breath, moving from under the bed. "That was so fucking scary." You stand up and Tara watches you with a small smirk on her lips. "I wouldn't let Sam hurt you, baby. You know that." You roll your eyes at your girlfriend, grabbing your shirt to finish getting dressed. You then laugh, pulling your shirt over your head. "Suree..."
Tara pulls you in for a hug, her arms wrapping around your waist. You can feel the warmth of her embrace, and it immediately relaxes you. You press a kiss to her forehead, mumbling against it. "I'll see you tomorrow, love."
She squeezes you tight, before finally letting go. You take a few steps back, smiling at her before turning around and waving goodbye. Tara smiles back, waving as you leave through her window.
#reader insert#tonyspank#wattpad#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter x y/n#jenna ortega#jenna marie ortega#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x g!p reader#jenna ortega smut#jenna ortega imagine#tara carpenter smut#tara carpenter imagine#scream 6
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give you my lovin
pairing: modern!anakin x reader
warnings: panic attack, mentions of sex, pregnancy scare, anxiety, vomiting
word count: 2.3k
description: reader and anakin are childhood best friends, but what happens to the friendship when the consequences of a one night stand catch up to them?
A/N: This is really bad and I wrote this at 4am bc my new meds are giving me insomnia. Don’t even know where the idea came from. Definitely not proof read or good at all.
You weren’t sure how you got here. Nothing in the past few weeks made any sense.
Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter, your knuckles turning white as you slowly lifted your head up and into the mirror. The bags under your eyes were heavy, the weight of your new reality settling in as you took another sharp breath.
You focused on your lungs, feeling as they filled with air and gently deflated as you breathed out. Your index finger tapped against the sink, your breathing becoming more unstable as you gathered your thoughts.
The alarm went off. Your eyes shot open. Fuck.
Positive.
“Y/N, wait up! Jesus.” Anakin rushed behind you, pulling your backpack into his as you tried to make it to your class on time. Your eyes instantly rolled.
“Anakin, come on-“
“Hey, I just wanted to check on you, you’ve been off ever since- well- you know.”
“Anakin, please!” You turned to face him, cupping your hands over his lips, pretending not to notice how his cheeks flushed under your touch, “Listen, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got a college tour later and-“
“Y/N, for fucks sake, you’ve been avoiding me for weeks!” He yells, ripping your hand off of his mouth as he pulls you into an empty classroom and slams the door. “I love you.”
“Anakin, I know, but-“
“Y/N, I fucking love you.” He steps closer, his hands shaking as his thumb grazes your cheek. The lump in your throat was suddenly much bigger, the pressure behind your eyes building, becoming almost unbearable.
“Anakin, please- Don’t do this. Don’t ruin what we have. That was a mistake- a lapse in judgment. Please-“
“Y/N, I can’t stand here and pretend like I haven’t been in love with you my entire fucking life. Every. Single. Day. Every holiday, every family gathering, every vacation, every birthday- fucking everything! It’s always been you. I can’t be your best friend anymore. I want- need more. And if you don’t feel the same way…” He trails off, stepping away as his arm falls to his side. His lip begins to bleed, his eyes reddening at the sight of you.
“Anakin, I���m so sorry, I-“
He rushes out the door and down the hallway in an instant. Your apology was all he needed to hear.
“Fuck… Fuck!” You rub your eyes on the sleeve of your sweater, picking up your discarded backpack from atop of a desk. Checking your watch, you swear to yourself once more. You were 10 minutes late.
When the door clicked open into your english class, all eyes were immediately on you. Your stomach dropped. You knew how you looked. Your mascara smudged, your sleeves wet, your hands shaky and your cheeks puffy. Except now, you were 20 minutes late.
“We’ll talk later.” Mrs- whatever her name was mumbles, not even giving you the satisfaction of eye contact.
You scurry between the metal atrocities your high school calls a desk, finding your seat as fast as you could.
“What the fuck!” Ahsoka whisper-shouts from next to you, noticing your blank slate of a face. “Wait, what the fuck?”
“Anakin and I aren’t friends anymore.”
“What. The. Fuck.”
“He’s in love with me.”
“Y/N-“
“Not now.” You turn away from her, pulling out your laptop and ignoring her dirty looks.
—————————-
“You had SEX with him?” Ahsoka shouts as you put your head into your hands from atop the picnic table.
“Jesus Christ, can you say it any fucking louder, Ahsoka!” You gently slap her arm, and her brows furrow as she slaps yours back, twice as hard of course.
“I thought you’d tell me when you lost your virginity, brat! And this happened a week ago!”
“He told me he loved me then, too.” You squeezed your eyes shut, begging for yourself to feel nothing.
“Y/N, are you sure you don’t-“
“Ahsoka, come on. It’s Anakin. It’s your brother. I just- wait- why are you making that face?” You stand up, crossing your arms as she avoids eye contact and slides against the trunk of the tree behind her.
“Listen, all I’m saying is that I’m not exactly surprised, is all. Anakin has always looked at you and cared for you a certain way-“
“That’s because he’s my best friend!”
“Y/N, be fucking for real. Come on. He has been head over heels for you since he was fucking 10.”
“Ahsoka,” You whine, throwing yourself onto the grass next to her.
“Y/N, I love you-“
“Not you too.”
“Shut up,” You grin as you roll over to face her, propping your head up on your elbow. “I genuinely don’t believe you when you say you don’t feel the same way.”
“Ahsoka, it doesn’t matter what I feel. We graduate in 4 months. It can’t happen. I’m not letting either of us hold each other back for something like that. We had a one night stand, and that’s as far as any romance between us should go.”
“You said should.” She raises a brow as you roll yours and scoff.
“Ahsoka, come on. You know what I mean. All I’m saying is that it’s not worth it. Anakin’s fucking amazing and gorgeous and perfect for me and yes- he’s everything I want. But I can’t do that. And he doesn’t need to know that.”
“Just don’t hurt yourself more than you should, Y/N. He’s always going to be a part of your life. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”
—————————-
Positive.
Your hand went over your mouth as you choked back a sob, the pressure breaking as tears flowed down your cheeks. Your hands gripped the test, blinking in disbelief at the very clear second line.
“Y/N, come on! She’s almost here, what is taking so long!” Ahsoka shouts from outside the bathroom door, her footsteps approaching as you frantically throw the test into your backpack. The door opens.
“Are you crying- what’s going on?” Her arms come to your side as you throw yourself into her embrace.
“I’m sorry- I- I just got my period and I’m really emotional-“ You cries increase at your lie, letting yourself fall victim to Ahsoka’s soothing embrace.
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay- things are okay. Are you sure you’re up to this dinner tonight? I know my Aunt Katie won’t mind if you miss-“
“No, Ahsoka, I’m going. It’s fine, I’m fine.” You pull away from her, turning your back and wiping your tears. “Let’s go.”
The steps creaked with every push of your doc martens against the spruce flooring. Anakin’s eyes shot towards the stairs from the kitchen, meeting yours. You watched his body tense, his brows furrow. Fuck. He knew something was up.
“Anakin, would you hold Grace?” Katie hands him the baby as her and Shmi begin to set the table. Your eyes soften.
Anakin smiles wide looking into Grace’s eyes, letting her reach up and grab his cheek, tracing her small fingers towards his nose. He blows raspberries into her face, laughing at her giggles and snorts. As he gently rocks her in one arm, he strategically reaches his arm into Katie’s baby bag to find a bottle. Fuck. It was kinda hot. But also- Fuck!
You sigh deeply, sitting on the bottom step and shamelessly never taking your eyes off of him. Your foot bounces, the knot in your stomach and the weight on your chest growing each time he smiles down at her. Your hands shake in your lap, your eyes unable to hold back the tears you so desperately wish wouldn’t fall. The dam breaks, slowly but surely, and a single tear makes it way down, scaling your cheek, down your chin, making its way to your neck. His eyes meet yours. Fuck. The knot in your stomach releases.
Before you think about it, you’re running out the front door and puking into Shmi’s azaelias. Your chest was heavier than before, the tears became a steady river along your cheeks as you coughed and leaned against the railing.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Anakin’s panicked voice meets your ears, his hand instantly on your back while his other pulls back your hair. You attempt to nod, but your body is weak and your legs collapse under you, the railing holding all of your body weight.
His hands instinctively meet your hips, guiding you to the porch swing while you sniffle and choke back another sob, as well as more puke. He bites his lip, his eyes scanning your shaky form. Your trembling hand finds itself reaching into his lap, interlocking with his own.
“Angel, talk to me. Please.” He mumbles, squeezing your hand as his eyes got redder.
You let all go- A new, different sob wracking through your body as you throw yourself into his arms. Your head rests against his bicep, staining his shirt with your mascara while you shiver and hiccup beneath him. He rubs circles into your back, mumbling that you’re safe and okay over and over again like a mantra he worshipped. You hear your mom poke her head out the door, feeling Anakin motion for her to leave.
There was no way out of this. Everyone knew. And you were crying in the arms of the man you love, pregnant with his child. You didn’t even get to celebrate getting into your dream school. You didn’t even graduate. In the span of 45 minutes, your entire life had changed. And you couldn’t hold that in any longer.
You sit up, facing his apprehensive eyes and taking both of his cold hands into your shaky ones.
“I’m pregnant.” You whisper, squeezing his hands as your lungs tighten.
He nods slowly at you, his lips upturning in a small, solemn smile. He says nothing, coming closer and placing a long kiss on your forehead before cradling your head against his chest once again.
“Angel, this is all going to be okay.”
“Anakin, I’m in love with you.” You mumble against his chest, your word vomit getting the best of you after literal vomit had already done it’s job.
“W-what?” He pulls away, holding your face in his hands as your tears pool in his palms. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes.” You whisper again, attempting to smile. “I have always loved you. I didn’t want to hold you back.”
“Y/N, baby, come here.” Anakin pulls you back into him, “This is about you, okay? All about you. I want you to take as much time as you need.”
“Anakin, I got into Stanford today.” You whisper, confessing against his chest once again. His grip tightens.
“I’m so sorry.” He mumbles, feeling his body shake above you as he attempts to conceal his tears in your hair.
“Anakin, I Just- I- Please don’t be mad.” You shake against him, refusing to let your eyes meet. “Please.”
“Y/N, there’s absolutely nothing you could say right now that would make me mad. I swear to fucking God. Nothing.”
“I-I think I want to keep it. Keep the baby, I mean. I don’t know why or what-“
“Shhh,” He pulls away, putting a finger up to your lips and smiling, “You don’t have to explain anything to me. If you want to have this baby, then we’ll be the best fucking parents we can be. I just want you to be happy, okay?”
You go to exhale in relief, but there’s nothing there. Your lungs are tight, your eyes slam shut, there’s nothing but the sound of your heartbeat as everything around you goes black. A familiar ringing sound fills your ears, just as you wipe your trembling hands against your jeans.
“Angel, Angel, Y/N, hey, come back to me, come back. Deep breaths, okay?”
As your eyes flutter open, the porch spins around you. Your hands grip Anakin tightly, your throat closing as you try to search your mind for something, anything.
“You’re safe. I got you. I’m not going anywhere. Everything is okay. In through your nose and out through your mouth, okay?” Anakin tried not to panic, he really did. He knew that was the last thing you needed. But watching the woman he loved for 8 years fall apart in front of him was like being stabbed repeatedly for eternity. It hurt.
“Ana-Anakin, Anakin- Please- I can’t-“ You choked out, whining against his chest as he rocked you in his arms.
“Squeeze me as hard as you need to, baby, I’m here. I’ll always be here. Let me take care of you, okay? This will be all okay. Do you trust me?” He whispered against your head, waiting for the signal he needed.
When you nodded against him, he carefully pulled away, helping you stand up and lifting you with ease into his arms. He walked off the porch, around the house, and into the basement door. As you entered his bedroom, the smell of Anakin instantly filled your senses. And so did the air in your lungs. As he laid you on his bed, the weight in your chest was released, your dizziness fading, and your nausea gone. He kicked off his shoes and laid next to you, pulling you back into his comforting embrace.
“I got you, Y/N. I’ll always keep you safe.” You closed your eyes and turned to face him, burying your head into his chest. You took a deep breath. Anakin.
“Anakin, what about you?” You mumble against his ruined shirt.
“What do you mean, angel?” He hummed against your head.
“You said it didn’t matter what you thought as long as I was happy. I don’t like that. You deserve to be happy too.” He pulls his head from atop of yours, looking down at you with a smile.
“Y/N, you make me happy. There’s nothing to worry about. I will take care of all of this.” You nod, biting your lip and leaning back against him.
“Ani, I want to do this with you. I want to be with you.” He instantly pulls away. You freeze, your eyes slowly meeting his as you look up at him.
“Yeah?” He says, his smile wide in a toothy grin.
“Yeah.”
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Before I Leave You (pt.68)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: Your time is running out. minute by minute, breath by breath, kiss by kiss.
Tags: Angst, Hurt (no comfort yet), illusions to past mental health issues and past domestic abuse, mentions of low-self-esteem, internalized shame and self-shaming behaviors, themes of abandonment, speeding, guns, violence,
W/c: 13.4k
A/N: ahhhhh so here we are! i've been dreaming of this chapter since the very beginning of the series! this is like...the ultimate chapter...thank you for giving me a little bit of extra time to sit with it! we've still got a bit to go! there is a little section near the end where the chapter will prompt you to click on a link to play kate bush 😂 if you feel like you'll be distracted by music in the background you don't need to push it- thats just the song that i always heard playing in my head whenever i heard that part playing.
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
Hobi is sitting on the edge of the nest sipping at his ice water when you come back into the nest room. Someone has drawn all of the heavy curtains over the windows and they pool on the floor at the rim of the room. The plastic pulled up too. The evidence folded and put away for later burning. Like a bad memory or a piece of clothing that doesn't fit right. Shoved in the back of the closet.
The rage and fear and panic are harder to put away. The conviction is not so easy to hide. You can’t put it down the same way that people file their taxes or their children's old scribbles.
You- like a child, have not been able to color between the lines. You- like a child, are messy.
You can’t stop yourself from walking over to him. Drawn to him where he sits nursing his injuries like a moth to a flame. You feel every heartbeat spent in his presence; every breath shared sticky like smoke in your lungs. Every second is savored and every second burns.
You want to ask him if he’s alright, but questions like that seem very pointless now.
Hobi’s not alright- but he will be. He will be okay forever if you do what you have to do. Now that you’ve decided it’s all you can think about. You rarely ever get to know that your last day with someone will be your last day, and now because you know- you look at him a little harder. A little longer.
You wonder what he’ll look like in 10 years and in 20. If he’ll get crow’s feet from smiling so much. If the salt water he loves so much will eventually grow into his features and make him look like something ancient.
You wonder if one day he'll get so many freckles that the tops of his shoulders will be permanently a shade deeper than the rest of his skin- Or if Seokjin’s sunscreen will spare him from the simple pleasure of looking like your favorite thing. Hoseok has always been one part sunshine one part everything else.
He looks pale right now. It hasn't been summer in months and you won't get to see him get all freckly and sun-kissed again.
Growing old is a privilege (you don’t want to grow old) and you’re reminded of that every time you look at his throat and see the bruises there (you wish you and Hobi could stay as you are- like this, in this house- both alive and healing- forever) but you can’t.
You can’t.
You touch his shoulder softly and his head jerks up, body going tense and then slack when he sees it's just you.
It’s quiet up here. The others are just downstairs and they’re making a lot of noise. Hoseok turns, setting his glass of water down on the floor, leaning into your hand in the same movement. It would be cute if he didn’t have black bruises crisscrossing his throat and blood in the whites of his eyes. In truth, every blink only convinces you that this is what you have to do. This is what you need to do.
You know that at any moment the pack is going to come looking for you. That they’ll all come and fill the room with their soothing noises and sweet concern. You're not too worried about finding the right time to slip away. Moonbyul’s given you 24 hours after all.
We didn’t get enough time, did we? I’d have liked more.
Hobi tries to speak and you shush him, he makes a frustrated hum of a noise. You sit down next to him when he tugs you, hand vicelike on your wrist. Your heart is beating really fast. You wonder if he can hear it or at least smell your distress. The whole house is a tangle of distressed scents; your rain, Yoongi’s ocean, Hoseok’s burnt caramel. burning burning burning. It disguises your scent. Hoseok can’t smell how you’re panicking.
You smile at him, and Hobi tries to speak again. unsuccessfully.
“Here your phone-” but Hoseok doesn’t reach for it, he doesn’t reach for anything but you. Pulling you closer to him. His thumb pressed to the pulse point of your wrist, where your skin becomes thin and sensitive. Pulling you until your thigh lines up against his.
The nest up here is the only place in the house that smells somewhat normal, still soaked with your sleepy muted scents from a few days ago (How long will it be until your scent fades from the house?) You take a deep shaky breath, trying to savor it. Hoseok bites his lower lip.
Hoseok starts on your thigh. His hand squeezes it once and then he starts to write. It’s slow going. He can only write one letter at a time but-
“D-O-N-T”
His eyes are positively boring into yours as your breath hitches and you start. “Hobi I-” he repeats it again, writing it out faster. You grab his hand squeezing it. But he pulls it out of your grasp.
“N-O”
You huff, frustrated and close to tears but stealing yourself not to show him your true feelings. How hard this is. You duck in low, kissing over one of the bruises on his neck. He jerks back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. And part of you is just begging him to let it go. You’re half sitting in his lap now all so that he can write out his distress on both your thighs.
“Alright- just stop.” You can hear the rest of the pack on the stairs. It’s getting late, they’ve done all of the cleaning they can manage for today. You can hear Yoongi on the stairway talking to Jin:
“Maybe we should just burn the railing, there’s definitely a bullet or two in it still.”
Jin’s reply is near hissed, utterly scandalized in the way that only Jin can sound. “It is mahogany Yoongi.”
Hobi writes on your thigh, a single tear trailing down his nose. He’s usually a little bit better at keeping himself together but the stress of the day wore him through. Polished all of his usually stubborn edges like the ocean polishes sea glass. He’s too tired to properly argue. Letter by letter as he goes.
“P-R-O-M-I-S-E M-E,” he writes across your thigh.
You have maybe a second before they’re upon you. You have to be convincing. Have to, or else Hobi might tell. You don’t think he’ll get in your way. You don’t want to think about what you’ll have to do if he does.
You dart forward, pressing your lips to his in a way that you don’t really feel, in a way that has him pushing you a little off of him. Trying to reassure him in the only way you know how.
You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying and he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. His fingertips skimming soft across your jaw and your lips. Pressing at the corner of your sad smile like he can peel the fake expression away from your face and have you tell the truth for once.
“I promise, okay? I promise.”
Hoseok is not convinced. He doesn’t believe you all the way. But the pack is up here before he has a chance to write out anything more. Yoongi appears in the doorway, smelling of soap and bleach, a bit of it turning the corner of his shirt yellow where it should be black. His eyes cautious but so loving it takes your breath away a little. He treads softly over to the two of you; like he's worried about spooking you.
The moment between you and Hobi passes when Yoongi's hand curls over the back of your neck and you tilt your face up at him. And he interprets the glassiness there as something else. something more sensitive and more like omegaspace than what it is. you falling through space and time, you dying and drowning infront of him.
He probably thinks Hoseok was just comforting you.
Yoongi’s hand settles softly on the ball of Hoseok’s shoulder too. an equally as tender touch. Long fingers splaying against his collar bones, cradling a bruise there forming. Asking softly, eyes all dark with the anguish and apology of it-
“Do you think either of you can stomach dinner?”
As always, you say you can hot because you want to, but because you know it will make him happy to see you eat. You might not get many more opportunities to make Yoongi happy- you should take this one and savor it.
Yoongi loses that vaguely wounded look in his eyes with every bite you lift to your mouth. His scent sublimating into something sweeter as the night darkens and quiets.
You can tell Hoseok is not convinced of your promises when he stays glued to your side through the whole of dinner. Almost stubborn with how he resists Yoongi’s prodding and Namjoon's. Changing out the cool dressings on his throat and shaking his head at Namjoon’s suggestion that he sleep propped up against the back wall of the nest, where it’s safest. Eyes tracking your movements as you get up and brush your teeth.
His focus remains solely on you, even when Jungkook carries Tae out of the bathroom and places her among the softest things in the nest. When Noodle squirms his way out from under the bed and tries to worm himself in between his legs. Nudging under his elbow with his pink nose.
He wraps himself around you as you get ready for bed. An arm slung protectively around your waist to pull you flush against his front where you couldn’t squirm away without him feeling it and waking up.
It feels like buying time even though you're too distracted to properly enjoy it- the way they try to cheer you up. Everything that they do to try and make things better feels far away like a photograph- a memory just out of reach- the colors a little off.
Jungkook needily wraps himself around Tae and croons soft reassurance into her ear about how pretty her hair looks, how soft her pajamas make her. And would she like some of her skincare routine? Jungkook will do it for her, will pat it across her cheeks, and won't drag it under her eyes to preserve the state of her wrinkles.
Tae answers all his requests with a simple shake of her head. Eyes still frighteningly blank, that 1000-yard stare that you've all seen on your faces at one point or another, that you see in the reflective surface of Namjoon's phone in the nest, discarded and not charged.
Tae's scent is something awful- none of her usual roses and all cinnamon. Does Tae smell more like her old self because that version of her was always afraid? Or was being a boy the first thing she hated and that's why she smells like boy tae now?
You hate it. You can tell the others hate it too. Yoongi drags her close to scent her silly. cheek and neck going all pink from how hard he scents her, and then scents you, and then goes back again.
Jungkook can do little more than cuddle Tae with Jimin, his big hands smooth down her thighs, while Jimin brushes her hair gently- careful not to let the bristles brush her scalp. He's learned how to take care of her over the last few months and he's the gentlest when it comes to detangling. Not like you- who's so used to ripping through your hair without thought.
Up and down their hands go as Jin fluffs the nest around you all. Making the edges of it higher, and more protective of the fragile pups at the center (like fluffy duvets could ever block bullets. In his dreams- Jin’s love is enough to keep you all safe).
Yoongi and Namjoon are only too happy to oblige him with the nest-making and the general fussing. But in between Jin’s request for a hairdryer and another cold cloth for your hands. You catch them watching the door like they half expect some new threat to appear.
Certain things are harder to ignore; like Yoongi sitting on the edge of the nest with a gun balanced across his thigh. Or the heavy thud of a fresh box of bullets, rattling in their acrylic case when Jimin sets them down on the floor. The red shotgun casings lined up in pretty lines- just like Tae’s lipsticks downstairs.
You ask for one of Hobi's sweatshirts and Yoongi puts the gun away to go and give it to you. Hoseok fingers the edge of your shirt stroking over the meat of your hip idly. But every inch of him is taught like he’s going to have to grab you and hold you down. You lace your hand with his and turn to give him a look.
Yoongi’s back with a sweatshirt but it’s Jin who demands to dress you- to guide your fragile and freshly wrapped hands through the holes. Jin pulls it down around your hips with a soft huff before he gets distracted looking at the bruises on your back and side. From getting thrown back into the wall and from an errant elbow. Every time you twist even a little bit- they ache.
A tub of soothing cream that the pack usually uses for the more wanted kind of bruises sits open on the edge of the nest.
The pack moves about in pairs, here and there. Going down to the ground floor in sets of two. Unwilling to let anyone out of sight. There are guns everywhere, Jimin must have let loose his hidden stash of them. A shotgun leans up against the bathroom door. A handgun with an extended stock is always close at hand. There's a larger plan lingering here. You hear it in Jin's soft reassurances. Said hushed over your heads.
"Witness protection isn't as bad as you think it is Yoongi-"
"It won't work- don't you think we know how it works? That won't be safe enough."
"We have at least a few hours, we don't need to make any decisions now."
Jungkook’s scared voice, “Are we really going to have the leave? The house and everything?” A pause. A look is shared between Jin, Namjoon, and Yoongi. Jimin's eyes remain focused on Tae.
“Maybe bunny, we have to wait and see.”
“Do we have a carrying case for Noodle?”
“I think it’s in…” Yoongi trails off, but Namjoon answers for him.
“Yeah, it’s in the basement.”
They set about keeping watch for the night. those of you that aren't nursing wounds that is- mainly Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon- Guns remain at the ready and loaded. Jimin will go first, Yoongi second, and Namjoon last.
Jin tries but Namjoon nudges at his chest and growls in a way that has all of your ears perking up. The pack alpha’s commands can’t easily be ignored. Jungkook tries too to convince them too but even Hoseok shakes his head at him. No one is under any illusions of how fragile this peace is.
No one asks Namjoon to leave the Christmas lights on- but he doesn’t shut them off all the way- leaving just one string lit as a bit of a nightlight. None of you are quite brave enough to risk the darkness.
Hoseok stays close by, his hand clutching your wrist more often than not. Even when the pack settles in for sleep. He wraps his arm around your waist and settles in behind you, caging you in.
(Hoseok’s arms are not the prettiest cage you’ve ever been in but they are the cage you’ve liked the most. You think you’ll miss his arms and his hands. They’re so pretty and long, you lean down and kiss one where it’s gripping the nest and he makes a small noise in surprise that quickly gets swallowed by the hungry quiet.)
The quiet is very hungry, every brush of fabric against skin, every slight movement of the pack sets you a bit on edge. You think it will be hard to sleep- wound up as you are.
You don’t think you're even tired until your head hits the pillow and you have to struggle to stay awake. You want to stay up and listen to the sound of your pack, their soft and measured breathing, the sound of kisses shared above your head, the feel and safety of being in the nest. You want to commit the rhythm of them to memory.
Hoseok’s soft rasping breath on the nape of your neck evens out the more that his swelling goes down. It goes from hissing to more of a squeak as the night settles. Tae shakes through her aforementioned panic attack with all of you piled around her. You get your hand on her ankle at least.
Yoongi and Jimin’s shushing is the only punctuating sound in the half-light. Because what can you say besides sweet nothings when you know she has a perfectly valid reason to fear falling asleep?
You savor every little twitch of their trauma-worn bodies as you flit in and out of an uneasy sleep. Every slight sigh and hand on you rousing you. Jungkook, brushing his fingers through your hair. Hobi, pressed along your back like a second skin shifting and trying to tilt his neck to a more comfortable angle.
You get too hot with Hobi wrapped around you like that, eventually tugging at his sweatshirt that you wear and almost purring when kind gentle hands help detangle you from it with a soothing little shush sound so that you hardly have to wake. Yoongi, around midnight.
Yoongi’s thin but strong fingers rub a soothing touch along your jaw. Soothing away a small sad noise you make that has him curling around your front. The sound of Namjoon's low voice as he says something to your mate and then takes his place at the helm of the nest to stand guard.
“It’s okay pup, I’m here- I’m not going to let anything happen to you- not now- not ever.”
It’s unfortunate, but Namjoon can’t let Tae sleep for more than half an hour before checking her pupillary responses, making sure that her brain isn’t swelling. Concussions are no joke and Namjoon does not take chances with his prettiest alpha. He sends her back off to dreamland with a comforting scent mark and a soothing grumble. After the 5th hour when the risks turn nominal, he decides to just let her sleep.
But Hoseok doesn’t sleep, he can’t really. The pain keeps him awake and what with the way that his neck is injured he can’t find a comfortable position. He shifts and settles the whole night. Keeping you close with that arm around your waist every time you squirm so much as an inch away.
He’s restless until Namjoon gets up to get one of Jimin’s painkillers.
He’s resistant even then, half asleep still fighting. Trying to move away and shaking his head at Namjoon. Namjoon mistakes his unwillingness for simple fussiness and not for fear. If Hobi falls asleep it will be substantially easier to slip away- you watch from below as Namjoon props hobi up and pinches his jaw to make him open his mouth, encouraging the alpha to show his tongue with a prod of those gentle hands. His eyes are barely open, exhausted as he is.
“I know it hurts to swallow Hobi but you’ve got too.” Regardless of his shaken head, Namjoon insistently nudges his mouth with it. Soothing his gag with a stroke of his thumb down Hoseok’s Addams apple. A kiss to his lips for being good.
“This will help the swelling go down, you’ll be okay by morning.”
It’s minutes before they take effect. Slowly- Hoseok’s arm melts away from your stomach. His grip on you slackens from the drugs and his breath evens out. You say a quiet goodbye to him in your head and turn around to face him and kiss his forehead.
At least the last time you touch, it’s soft like that. At least the last time you touch him- it’s gentle.
Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon trade-off. A gun shared between the two of them. Perched on the edge of the nest. Eyes on the vacant stairway Infront of them. Listening for every creek and whisper met with a held breath and hand tightening around the gun. Waiting for the violence that you can all feel coming.
You won’t let it hit them; you won’t let it into this house again. Not while you’re still breathing.
When you're sure that Hobi is asleep you roll onto your back and stare up at the Christmas lights twinkling in the dark. You remember watching Jungkook hang them for you. You remember. You'll always try to remember; you promise yourself right then and there that you'll never let the memory slip away. No matter what happens.
You look over at Kookie, face so peaceful in sleep, a pillow hugged to his chest belly down in the nest, cheek squished close to the top of Yoongi's head on your other side. His back rising and falling.
Jungkook has always been a pretty omega. You reach over to him to stroke down the stiff bridge of his nose, to commit his face to memory. When you turn back to Hobi, you do the same, touching across the heart shape of his mouth, the subtle roundness in his cheeks everything. You look around at all of them- your pack, sleeping softly- sleeping safely. Namjoon's wide back, his shoulders that could hold the world up. Unaware that you're watching him.
You’ll remember all of it, every car ride, every trip to the beach. Every joke and jab. You’ll store each of the memories like a found thing in your pocket. A piece of seashell or sea glass.
You’ll take Jungkook’s laughter and store it- a memory to use when you need to remember that it’s okay to be young for a minute more. When you need to look after yourself you’ll remember how Jin did it and follow his example. And when you need to rest and be soft you'll remember yoongi. You’ll remember Tae like a tube of lipstick and see her every day in the color pink. And Jimin-
Jimin has a hard time sleeping. Even when Namjoon takes the last shift. He sleeps with one hand on a gun, spaced protectively in front of Tae. His bad arm unfolded from his sling. Putting his body between her and the staircase. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the knowledge of that when he glances back, just to check and make sure that Tae and Hobi are still breathing. You hide your open eyes from him when he turns, going extra still and feigning sleep.
Namjoon tamps down on his instincts; the last thing he wants is for his scent to go sour and possibly rouse them. But in the quiet, Namjoon's mind has too much room to fan out and overanalyze. Panic is a particularly alluring drug, his mind festers in it. Rolling around in bad ideas the way that Noodle would roll around in a puddle of catnip.
If he got the pack together, put you all in cars, and drove you far far away from here would that be enough to keep you all safe from harm? Or would that only be temporary? Is temporary safety worse when you know what you have to come back to? Or should he just try to talk to these people, barter with them something. Would money be enough? How much wouldn't Namjoon give?
You are dreadfully similar to him. Only his planning stays in its infancy stage.
It isn’t all silent. Noises punctuate the night here and there. Namjoon is so on edge that he all but snaps his teeth at the shadows. An alpha on alert.
Namjoon’s ears perk up at every car that dares to drive by your narrow street, the neighbor two houses to the left who leaves for work in the city at 4:05 every morning, right on time. Noodle and the sound of his scrabbly little paws on the stairs, zooming up and down them until Namjoon gets up to scruff him too.
Your freaking cat does not like Namjoon on a normal day, he's only ever loved you and Hobi and tolerated Tae and Jungkook- condemning all the rest to hisses and claws, but Noodle settles with Namjoon's hand on the back of his neck. "See, that wasn't too hard was it?"
Noodle gives one last half-hearted hiss as Namjoon places him gently in the nest where he stays put after curled up around Tae’s head like a fluffy little hat. Purring and licking at her forehead. All but taunting Namjoon with his yellow eyes. Flinty and knowing in the darkness. Bushy tail flailing every time the alpha glances back.
You think you’re being quiet when you push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Untangling Hobi’s arm from around your waist and pulling yourself to the edge of the bed. He's out cold from the painkillers. Barely even stirring.
Noodle stirs however, darting from the nest with a small murr sound as if to say, "see- she's awake so why can't I be?" Tail raised high as he prances to the doorway.
You look striking in the half darkness, a pair of Yoongi’s green flannel pajama pants rolled up several times to fit properly around your hips. A thin white tank top that's almost falling down one shoulder. Namjoon’s heart pulses dully with the need to hold, the need to protect. He makes a soft noise in his throat and your head jerks in his direction.
You swallow, and your lips look dry, eyes glassy and innocent in their tilt when your mussed hair fluffs over your shoulder. Messy from where Hobi was nuzzling it in his sleep.
“I was just getting a glass of water.”
Namjoon wordlessly holds his hand out to help you get out of the nest without teetering or disturbing the others. Noodle dashes back down the stairs with a soft meow. Tae sighs and re-settles, smacking her lips and Jimin’s arm tightens. Your mate turns face up in the nest, chest rising and falling, mouth opening like he can taste your scent on the air.
Namjoon doesn't doubt he can, honed in on you and focused as he always is.
Namjoon doesn’t let go of your hand when your feet find the smooth floor. Instead, he checks the wounds on your hands and verifies that they’re clotting. The margins slotted together properly for minimal scarring (he'd redone the glue-suture after your shower with only gentle scolding). He presses a kiss to the bandages after they're re-fastened. Letting his lips linger there for a second.
Namjoon has always had big hands, warm and steadying as they cradle yours. Small and chapped and scarred.
Instead of continuing on downstairs, you linger for a second by Namjoon’s side. Eating up every breath he breathes, his scent, and the comfort of having him nearby. Something you know you won’t have forever. (Somehow- you know that this will be the last time that Namjoon holds you. You can wait one minute more. You can give him one more minute). He sets the gun to the side and pulls you between his legs.
“Joonie?” You ask.
Your pack alpha wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles forward, rubbing his spiky head across your midriff. Nose nudging the dimple of your belly button and the slight pudge there with a quiet happy growl.
Namjoon will never not be happy that he can see the evidence of the pack’s love on you. Will never not feel proud of you and how far you've come. He nuzzles, resisting the temptation to bite and nip with a breath let out through clenched teeth.
Namjoon feels your quiet laugh against his cheek. Your warm soft skin swelling with laughter. Namjoon’s face is blushing red when he pulls back to look at you in the darkness. Corralled in the safe circle of his arms, fingers digging into your hips and squeezing.
“What are you doing alpha?”
“Just thinking- just-” Namjoon’s voice gets so much lower in the nighttime, it's a gravely growl. A sound that paints pictures of lightning and clouds hovering low like a blanket.
“When all of this is over, I want to go somewhere new.” Namjoon's hands tighten on your waist. fingers pressing to either side of your spine, thumbs sitting on the soft bones of your hips. “-With you. Just you. Just the two of us. Maybe.” Namjoon fights back a fresh blush at the confused cock of your head. “Maybe- like- a fancy Airbnb? Or something? Would that be fun? Would you like that?”
You pause, humming. Indulging Namjoon in this as he holds you, fingers rubbing endlessly up and down the sensitive small of your back. Eyes wide and imploring like a child.
You're only too happy to forget for a second and imagine. What would happen if you didn’t leave tonight? What would happen if you found some way out of this?
It’s easy to go further than just thinking about a simple weekend getaway. You Imagine far into the future; a day that you'll never see. A future with Namjoon and the pack. It hits you with such a profound heartache when you think it that you half expect to look down and see your white tank top speckled with blood. The ache so keen and visceral but-
Namjoon would be a good father.
He’d be kind and patient. He’d never snap. He’d never yell. For a moment that’s all you want to think about- not a stupid weekend but a lifetime. A family. A world where you’re never yelled at, where you don't have to be afraid, where nothing is hard, and even if it’s hard you do it together.
If you had pups, you know Namjoon would treat every skinned knee like it was surgery. Would never tell them to walk it off or say it wasn’t that bad. You know that he’d go through every tea party with gusto and stay up late to help them with their homework. That he’d struggle to say no but that you might never need to. It would be lovely- getting to give something small and innocent so much safety. It would be nice to have pups with Namjoon.
You can’t say you don’t want it, but you know in that moment that you won't get it. You'll never get to see Namjoon be a father- even if the pups aren't yours or are just his and Jin's. You’d love them all the same. What use is it to Imagine things that you’ll never get? What good are dreams like this but to tease you, just out of reach.
Namjoon nuzzles into your stomach again. His nose drawing soft circles just under your belly button.
You’d be a shit mother anyway. Too fragile. Too nervous. Too hurt. Too much of everything. You'd fuck them up just by being you. You'd fuck them up the same way you've fucked up this perfectly good pack. You've brought nothing but destruction upon them. The evidence of your wreckage is everywhere. The bullets in the ceiling, the blown apart door. Your hands and Hobi's throat. All of this is because of you.
You snap back to the present, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You’re gnawing at your own leg to survive. All things that bite cannot resist it. What good does hope do at the end other than to hurt?
You can't resist asking Namjoon for more, curled around you like a protective barrier to keep out all the world's hurts (or to keep you in).
“If we went? Where would we go? If we made it- What would it be like Joonie?”
Namjoon rests his chin on your belly button and looks up at you. Completely unaware of the longing tearing its way through you, of what you’re thinking about. Not just one trip or one year, but ten or twenty or thirty.
“Maybe south, to see the cherry blossoms?”
“We couldn’t go, not without Tae- cuz of the pink, and Hobi- cuz of the flowers”
Namjoon nods, agreeing. “Yeah- she does really like anything that’s pink.” There is a Tae-shaped smile on his face, you can feel it stretching your lips too. But he shakes it off, head bowed before you. Eyes closed against the image.
“Still, somewhere safe and quiet just for us, just for you and I to take a deep breath and-” Namjoon trails off, looking up at you. His eyes sparkle with the idea of it, all the little moments he’s picturing.
A private morning where he wakes up to just you. Where you hog his warm spot and his pillow in the chilly spring air. Your cold toes pressed to his shins with nothing to do but appreciate each other and take your loving slow and intentional. Your body and his body and all the space and laughter that you want in between. An idyllic picture of two young people quietly in love. Gently in it.
After almost losing all of it, he wants the chance to properly appreciate you one-on-one. The others too- but they’re asleep, and sleeping vessels cannot reply to Namjoon’s daydreams. You are the only one awake.
(In Namjoon's fantasy, he'll give each of his packmates a different trip. every one of them even if it's just the ones he's recently almost lost that have him thinking of these particular plans.
Hobi would want just a day trip. Namjoon knows the alpha doesn’t really like to be separated from the pack for all that long, a few hours sure. Maybe to some vintage stores that he’s been eyeing to the city or the botanical garden.
Seokjin he’d take somewhere grand and big and full of adventure, maybe to 6 Flags or something. Jin likes to be reminded that he’s allowed to be a kid again, that he doesn’t always have to look after everyone all the time. That he has Namjoon to lean on.
Tae, he’d take somewhere gilded just as she is, like teatime at the Ritz- or maybe abroad to the castle of Versailles. The hall of mirrors and a million pictures of Tae in pretty dresses, twirling. In Namjoon’s head- he watches her turn and flutter slowly like a top. Spinning and spinning).
But none of that is quite your style. You don't really crave outings or adrenaline or gilded things. Your wants are much more simple maybe- because you've always known how priceless quiet and peace is. Gentleness is all you've ever really wanted- not excitement or acclaim or ego.
“A little cabin somewhere in the mountains, a spot for just us. We wouldn’t even have to do anything, A staycation. A night or two.” As the world spins on, you are who Namjoon craves to be still with.
You swallow hard, lingering, still half leaning over him still. Letting him nose at your jaw and purr.
“That would be so nice Joonie."
You swallow, throat thick with something. You lean forward pressing a kiss- too brief, to his lips, Namjoon’s lips part and he breathes gently. You blink back the glassiness in your eye and hope that Namjoon dismisses it as the light from the moon streaming through one of the skylights. All white and black. Wrenching you through something that feels like film. You commit the feel of him and the sound of his voice to memory and then pull back.
“I really need to get a glass of water.”
Namjoon shifts to get up, to come with you, but you just laugh at him and push at his shoulder, he flops back onto the bed.
“I can go on my own Joonie.” He grumbles but stays put. Nosing at the goosebumps on your arms and leaning to retrieve Hobi’s sweatshirt from where you left it in the nest. It smells like sleeping pups and Jin. Milky and soft and safe. Namjoon’s body shivers happily when he sees you put it on.
You squirm out from between his legs. His palm stays wrapped around the tips of your fingers. They slide out of his a little, and then all the way.
“It’s not safe.” You heave a tired sigh, what he thinks is a tired sigh but is actually you trying your hardest not to cry. You lean over him to grab the gun from where it’s rested against the nesting barrier. Getting your phone while you’re at it and sliding it into the pocket of your sweatshirt.
“Is that better?” Namjoon grumbles but still lets you go. Sitting there on the edge of your nest and guarding the others. You look back at him from the top of the stairs and smile.
The house is quiet, with no creeks on the stairs and no winds blowing across the roof. No sound at all in the house beyond your quiet footsteps that Namjoon listens to as you go down the stairs.
Feeling every second of your distance like the sluggish beat of his heart, thump thump thump. Namjoon looks back to look at his pack. Their bodies curled and resting, so gentle in sleep. After a few minutes, there are footsteps on the stairs, small soft ones.
Thump.
“They’re so beautiful” Namjoon comments to you. Waiting for reply.
The silence gnashes its teeth, still hungry.
When Namjoon turns back, it’s not you standing at the top of the stairs- just Noodle with his tail raised high. His yellow eyes glow almost florescent in the darkness, meowing and hissing so loud it might wake the others.
“Noodle, quiet.” The cat just doesn’t quit, batting at Namjoon’s ankles, claws and all. “Noodle- hush.” He scoops up the fussy cat, but Namjoon’s only reward is some claws to his forearms and some more squirming.
Downstairs, he hears a sound that makes him pause. Instincts going from at peace to on edge.
Thump
The front door opens and closes softly with a soft click of the metal doorknob.
Thump
Namjoon goes to the top of the stairs, holding Noodle in his arms before the cat squirms and falls to the floor with a thud. “Pup?” he calls, hushed. You don’t respond. Only silence greets him, sated at last.
Thump, breath, thud.
Namjoon waits a moment, listening for a response that doesn't come before he goes down the stairs, Noodle nearly trips him on the way down, hissing and pacing back and forth in front of the door. The ground floor of the house is completely absent of you- absent of anyone friend or foe. The room is soaked in the blue darkness of morning that is not quite dawn. The white countertops are unassuming and the plates stay in their places.
Thud.
The couch still has its dark spot from where Jin cleaned it. The tangerines are safely in the bowl back on the counter shining like several small suns or planets. Everything is empty empty empty.
Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud
Namjoon checks the shoe rack. Your sneakers are missing, the same ones that match Hobi's and usually sit side by side with his. The spot where they should be empty.
Thud
Your wallet is missing from the bowl just inside the door.
Thud
Namjoon looks out onto the street and finds it empty.
Thud thud thud
Namjoon does not panic, Namjoon does not head out onto the street and chase you down- maybe he should have. He should have done any number of things. The sun is just barely rising turning the sky into that honey blue-green color and Namjoon just stands there and stares.
Namjoon is frozen. What kind of alpha is he- why kind of alpha freezes instead of fights or flights?
Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud
A few minutes pass and something must tip off the packmates upstairs- either the empty nest or the sound of Noodle yowling and quite literally trying to bite Yoongi's ear off.
The next thing Namjoon is aware of is Yoongi is on the stairs, looking pissed off, looking terrified. almost falling down them with the speed at which he descends.
He takes the stairs down two at a time, colliding with Namjoon at the bottom of them. He looks like a puffed-up cat, hair wild and eyes equally as glaring as Noodles when he shakes Namjoon, just a little. “Where is she? Namjoon? Where did she go? Where is my mate!?"
Is it Yoongi's scent- acrid and angry- that knocks him out of his stupor? Or is it the top of his ruffled head almost colliding with the bottom of Namjoon’s jaw when the beta shakes him again.
Namjoon stutters, panic making him inarticulate. So scared he repeats it twice. "I don't know- I don't know, I- she said she was just getting a glass of water. I swear-"
Yoongi's fists tangle in the front of Namjoon's shirt. He sounds sick with it. Voice twisting in pitch.
"You were supposed to keep an eye on her- you weren't supposed to let her out of your fucking sight.”
There are other people on the stairs, roused by the sound of raised voices. A lone light flicked on sends everyone into yellow chiaroscuro. Namjoon is still staring at the street, heart thundering quicker than your footsteps as you run. The streetlights wink out behind you as you go. Fleeing with the night and bowing under the weight of oncoming daylight. Running as fast as your body can carry you.
Could he catch up if he started running now?
It's Jungkook, his dark hair pushed up at the side where it rested against the nest, who asks, “What happened?What’s going on?”
Tae’s eyes dart between Yoongi and Namjoon, her pink silk dressing gown wrapped tight around her shoulders. “Where’s the pup?”
"Yeah Namjoon, where the fuck is my mate??" Yoongi grits his teeth, shaking Namjoon so hard it almost knocks him off his feet and sends him careening a little into the narrow dresser table that the pack keeps by the door for gloves and mittens and keys and wallets.
“I don’t know, I don’t-"
Jungkook and Tae have just spilled out from the stairs into the entryway when Yoongi’s hands hit his shoulders, pushing and then digging into Namjoon’s skin. He’s shaking so hard he can hardly speak.
“You were supposed to be watching her. You were supposed to make sure she was safe-”
“Yoongi- hey- Stop” Tae’s not shaking anymore when gets her hands on his shoulders pulling him away from namjoon where he simmers. Jin is still asleep upstairs. Hasn’t been roused by all the tense voices. Too tired from yesterday- from staying up to scrub blood with Yoongi.
Jungkook skitters to the door as Jimin and hobi descend the steps. nearly bouncing on his heels as he opens the front door letting in a gush of cold air. “What are we waiting for? lets go."
Yoongi's face crumples. “I don’t get it, where did she go- why would she have-”
Hoseok swallows but talks softly, the swelling’s gone down enough even though the bruises look a million times worst in the sunlight streaming through the window. It’s not even 6am yet. His soft hiss is gentle, but the pack pauses to hear it.
“A deal- I think she made a deal.”
It's the first words he’s been able to speak since the attack. Vocal cords straining with every word. Everyone quiets to listen to Hobi. Jimin’s got the shotgun in his hands. He leans it up against the doorway. The heavy thunk punctuates the shocked quiet- but hobi continues.
“When the man was here- she tried to barter our lives with hers." Everyone looks to Tae. And her eyes lower to the floor.
“She did say that but I didn’t think she was serious, I just thought-”
The conversation is a flurry, everyone talking over each other as conversation explodes. Yoongi's face twists from devastated to enraged. “Jesus fucking Christ- that stupid stupid-”
Jungkook clings to Jimin's t-shirt, “What are we going to do? Hyung- what should we-”
Jimin hasn't spoken a word yet, and softly draws Jungkook's hands away from his shirt. “Where would she even have even gone?"
“Did someone pick her up?” Hobi’s words seem to ring out, even though his voice is so fragile.
Namjoon shakes his head. “No- I was listening, I didn’t hear any car in the road- not for like the whole hour.”
“So, you were listening enough to hear the street but not to stop her from literally walking away from us, great. Good to know Namjoon.”
“Yoongi that is like- the opposite of helpful.”
“There's still the matter of where would she have gone. She didn't take a car-” Hoseok looks up in Tae’s direction. She sees the realization light across his face.
“Hobi?”
But Hoseok ignores her, lurching to the small cabinet by the front door; the pack’s drop-off points for their keys, their wallets and your fuzzy little purse from your first ever date with jimin and tae as well as a good slice of Tae’s collection of little red pocketbooks. They keep their things this way because Namjoon loses his keys at least once a month a nd having a communal spot always helps the general disorder of having 8 people live in one house.
Hoseok scrambles not for your wallet but for his.
He reaches for his wallet. Opening it and searching but-
The train ticket is gone.
Your train ticket- the one that you gave Hobi for safekeeping so many months ago is missing from where he usually keeps it in the last slot. Right next to that folded poem of Tae's and an old gift card. In its place is just a simple folded note, a new piece of paper that hasn’t been worn soft at the edges yet. Torn from the same pad of paper that Jin writes the grocery list on. Hoseok’s hands shake as they fish it out. 5 words that aren’t nearly enough.
I’m sorry, I love you.
You’d never told him that- that you loved him. Not after you’d had sex and he’d confessed. Not in the tangle of moments that followed with Jimin bloody and the pack breaking. You’d never spilled your heart to him that way. In the back of his head, he realizes that there just hadn’t been time.
This is the first time you’ve told Hoseok you love him and maybe the last. Hoseok’s heart beats quick. She loves me. Thump. She loves me. Thump. She loves-
Hoseok shoots off like a bullet out the open door, thundering across the porch slats. Too fast for the rest of the sleepy pack to properly anticipate and follow. Peering out after him, a little sluggish and a lot shocked. His socks skid and slip as he tries to arrest his momentum and almost falls as He doubles back for his shoes.
The rest of the pack stares down at him blankly as he tugs them on, sprawled there on the floor just outside the door. Hands shaking too much for bunny-eared loops. He doesn’t even bother to lace them before he’s lunging for his car keys in the bowl too. Nearly knocking over the table in his haste.
“The train station- she’s going to the train station.” He gasps.
The words you shared that night ring in his head, playing on repeat. Like a record that’s been scratched too many times. He’s replayed those moments too many times. He’s not sure if he remembers it correctly.
“Give me one chance, let me try to convince you to stay and if I can’t- then I’ll let you go, and I won’t tell Yoongi what train you took.”
The countless times you’d joked with him after that, the moment so light that Hoseok didn’t notice the weight behind them.
“You still got that train ticket?”
“Of course I do.”
Hoseok never thought that you’d use it. He thought that the ticket would have stayed frayed and pretty in his wallet until you framed it or something. Until you could look back on it and laugh and say things like “remember that night? Remember how it used to be before we loved each other?”
“No, I don’t, can you remind me?”
This is not that, this is not the future that Hoseok had imagined for the two of you. This abject terror. Suddenly Hoseok is unmoored, suddenly he is falling. Usually, you can see the end from a mile away. Is it worse if you lose the person you love because of circumstance or because they decide to leave on their own? Hoseok never thought you'd actually do it.
Hoseok thought your promise last night meant something. Later when he’s not so scared he’ll remember that he’s angry about that.
The rest of the pack explodes too. Jungkook doesn’t bother to put on his shoes- just heaves Hobi up by his shoulders and pushes him towards his car. Yoongi snatches both of their pairs from the floor and joins them. Cold feet on the small pea-gravel driveway. Jimin darts forward wrenching off his arm sling regardless of Namjoon’s protests.
“I’ll drive” Jimin doesn’t have to wrestle with Hoseok’s keys for long. Even with his hands numb Jimin is still the best driver. He won’t pull corners or care about hitting curbs. He reeves it with a roaring purr while the rest get in and looks at Tae in the rearview mirror. Standing on the porch looking breakable and not all there still. Her eyes on his have that same peculiar weight, the same weight that makes Jimin’s blood sing with purpose.
If there was ever someone that Tae needed, it was you. Not Jimin. He will haul you back from the edge of hell if he needs to, for her. because this is not the ending that you and tae deserve. Jimin will tear you from hell. Teeth and sin and all.
Jungkook has barely shut the door before Jimin peals out, reversing until the tires screech against the asphalt and leave dark lines in their wake. Tire tracks, strings of fate, shoelaces. He shoots off down the street and out of sight, knocking over a trash bin with a clang and leaving Tae and Namjoon back on the porch.
Hoseok knows the name of the station you were most likely to go to but not how to get to it. It's an 15 minute walk, maybe a 10 minute run and it's already been 8 since you left. Jimin points his car in the direction of the main road while he pulls it up on his cell phone.
With every sharp turn Yoongi and Jungkook slosh in the back seat and hit into each other. Some early morning commuter honks his horn at Jimin but he doesn’t even see them. The scenery flickering by and the asphalt melting away underneath the wheels of Hoseok’s red car. The small grey towns melt away, Break lights bleeding less than they should. The engine stutters and engages but no one cares about the uneven acceleration. Hoseok would total this car in a heartbeat if it meant getting you in time.
At the straightaway Jungkook stoops to slip his feet into his shoes, Yoongi holding his shoulder. The phone in between them slides on the leather seat, spitting out its electronic voice, overly cheerful.
"Re-routing!"
“Wait Minnie- go left.”
“Fuck!” Jimin makes the turn just barely, sparks skittering and burning out as he goes over one of those tiny reflective dividers. Hoseok curses every pothole for damaging their momentum and slowing them down.
“Are you sure? Are you sure that it’s this station that she'd go to?” Hoseok’s heart is thundering in his ears, beating furious and fast.
“Almost positive.” Yoongi holds onto the back of Hoseok’s chair to keep himself in place.
“We have to get to her before she gets to the city. Can’t you go any faster?” Jimin jerks the wheel around a flashy BMW. Almost hitting them with how close he gets. Jimin lets the speedometer answer Yoongi's question. Pushing 60 in a 35 and then 70.
Your note is crumpled tight in Hoseok's fist, a tiny bit of yellow paper that he unfolds and looks at before shoving deep within the confines of his jacket.
Yoongi is not looking at hoseok when he says his next sentence. Hoseok's not even thinking about his old pack, he's just thinking about the fact that you love him and he never got to hear you say it. Not when Yoongi pulls himself almost between his and Jimin’s seat and repeats the same to Jimin again, the same only different.
Thud.
“We have to get to her before Moonbyul does, if she gets to her- I don't know what I'll be able to do Minnie- even with the power that I have Moonbyul still has more-”
Hobi’s flinch is visceral, jerking like he's shocked.
He turns around to look at Yoongi as Jimin blows through a stop sign and then a red light. Jungkook winces and doesn’t say anything. Pushing Yoongi’s shoes across the seat. “Hyung- you should get ready to run.”
Hoseok and Yoongi look at each other. Hoseok's turned almost all the way around in his seat to stare at Yoongi- more specifically Yoongi’s mouth. He’s not sure if Jimin’s painkillers would make him hallucinate but that’s the only logical reason his brain can come up with after hearing that name- her name- come out of Yoongi’s mouth.
“What?"
Jimin's voice is deathly quiet. "Hoseok- turn the fuck around. If I get into an accident at this speed you will die if you're not facing forward to the airbag."
Hoseok turns back to face the road. Jimin grips the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. “Thank you.”
The sunlight is just cresting the tops of the trees. Dotting the scenery blue and yellow. Hoseok’s ears are ringing with her name.
Yoongi pulls himself closer to Hoseok, hands still gripping the headrest, the only thing that keeps him from bobbing and moving with the movement of the car. Eyes locked on Hoseok's face in the rearview mirror.
"I said something- I said something and you're having a thought."
"I fucking hope so-" Jungkook's quip goes unnoticed. Unnoticed through the volley of honking horns as the red car tares through the street. By some miracle, they haven’t passed a cop car yet.
Hoseok looks in the rearview mirror, at Yoongi’s face. Biting his lower lip. “It’s nothing just that name.”
Hoseok looks at Yoongi and all he can think about is how he'd never said- he'd never told Yoongi their names. Saying them or even thinking them reminds Hoseok too much of his own begging. What kind of alpha begs for an omega to hurt them- to stay?
Yoongi just about puts himself in the front seat of the car as Jimin breaks hard to navigate around a tractor-trailer. Riding on the shoulder, the rumble strips vibrating all of them hard and roaring just like Hoseok’s blood thundering through his ears.
“Moonbyul? Moon Byul-yi? You know it?”
Hoseok shivers, the reaction of his body route, unavoidable. Jarring. Trauma builds itself into your bones whether you like it or not. Triggers are not so much a part of you as they are a light switch that makes the worst parts of you turn on.
"Yeah- I do. It’s the name of my ex-pack omega.” Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be distracted, and he almost gets into an accident for his troubles. They’re silent for a second, Yoongi and Jimin look at each other.
“It could be the same name.”
Yoongi scrambles for his phone on the seat right as Jimin makes a turn and it goes flying. He finds it underneath Hoseok’s seat, hands slippery with sweat on it.
“Hang on, I think I have a picture of her somewhere.”
Yoongi scrolls all the way to the back in his phone. Switches to Instagram, going back and back and back through time, and then he's sticking it in Hoseok's face.
Seeing her face feels like Yoongi’s slapped him. Her face is on Yoongi's phone. Why is her face on Yoongi’s phone? Her hair is longer than it was when they dated, she must not have cut it since. But it's definitely her.
Hoseok feels like he's spinning, it's been so long since he's seen her face but it's definitely the one from his nightmares, the one he sees grinning and crooning false praises that have stuck to Hoseok's soul like glue. The face that he sees behind his eyes and sees in every criticizing comment only on his bad days. She's standing shoulder to shoulder with Yoongi, both of them in black suits along with a man that looks enough like Yoongi for him to guess that that's his brother, your ex-husband.
Your abuser and his and Yoongi in between them. Hoseok can only hear ringing in his ears, he knows he sounds accusatory when he snaps. "How the fuck do you know my ex-pack omega?"
“She’s my cousin. Are you sure that's her?”
Hoseok feels like he’s spinning. “Yeah, I'm sure.”
“I thought you said your old pack was all omega’s?” Yoongi knows Hoseok’s lore, knows it like he knows the back of his hand. He looks up, hair falling across his face. Hoseok frowns jabbing his finger at the phone.
“I did. She’s an omega.”
The dissonance hits him and Yoongi almost wants to disagree but then-
Hoseok watches the lightbulb go off, Yoongi’s eyes widening imperceptibly as he paws at the phone and Hoseok’s hand. The car sickness lurches in his stomach as he turns to look back at Yoongi, and the g force hits him as Jimin takes another turn Impossibly fast. The seatbelt across Hobi’s chest engages with a click, digging into his skin and the bruises on his neck with a painful jerk.
“Are you sure? Hoseok- you have to be sure.”
“I’m sure.”
This is all a game of leverage. A game of who knows what secret and what gets exchanged for whom. Yoongi spent most of last night wondering about Moonbyul's motivation, and now he knows why.
Hoseok is holding onto Yoongi’s phone, they’re hands gripping it together. “Is this who she’s going too? The one who tried to kill us? Is-” Hoseok has to swallow to get the words out right. “Is Moonbyul the one trying to take her?”
“Yes.”
Hoseok shivers, eyes darkening, scent spiraling wildly. His muscles trembling as he thinks about it. You and Moonbyul.
Yoongi pulls himself around Jimin’s headrest. Hand on his throat, digging into his scent gland. He doesn't have time to explain to them.
Only alphas can lead the family, only alphas can rule. If Moonbyul isn't one- that calls into question the legitimacy of her rule. The families would never stand to see an omega on the throne, she'd be ousted, probably killed for daring to lie. The families would tear her apart piece by piece and Yoongi would let them.
If Moonbyul is the person who hurt Hobi- and now she's going after you- that's two people that Yoongi loves that she's directly hurt. Yoongi is thinking all sorts of dangerous things. But they have to get to you first.
If Moonbyul isn't an alpha then Yoongi's just found his leverage and maybe the whole reason why the pack was targeted in the first place.
A packmate for a secret. Yoongi imagines the worst-case scenario; Don't tell and I won't hurt her. Don’t tell anyone and she lives.
How long had she stewed and festered- knowing that Hoseok was out there- knowing that he knew the secret that could lead to her undoing. Maybe she thought his knowing would never come back to bite her, and had intended on tying up the loose end later. Maybe she didn't know Hoseok had found his way into Yoongi's arms until after the old Don and Beta had died. She probably thought that they’d never put it together- at least not until it was too late.
Whatever her reasons, this has gone on long enough.
Yoongi opens his mouth, but Hoseok’s body is taught like a spring-loaded and ready to burst. His voice a near growl.
“Jimin, I need you to drive.”
~-~
Tae and Namjoon are left standing there on the porch. Namjoon left staring after them as they hurl away from the house. Running his hands through his hair hard. Thinking of what to do until-
Tae tugs on his sleeve, “Your phone- Joonie- you should call her.”
“Right- fuck-” Namjoon goes and gets it, and comes back to stand with Tae on the porch. “Come on- come on pick up.” Namjoon paces back and forth on the front porch, the snowmelt from the roof drips out an uneven rhythm onto the railing. the cold spray hitting his stress-warm skin.
Tae stands by the door. Frozen, a statue of Namjoon’s distress. Inside, Namjoon hears a voice. Jin coming down the stairs, probably roused by the sound of the car screeching out of the driveway and down the road.
“Tae? Where is everybody?”
“Pup’s being stupid. The others left to go get her before she’s like- really really stupid.”
Jin freezes in the doorway, fist rubbing his eye. He sounds smaller and younger than Namjoon’s ever heard him. “Am I having a bad dream?” namjoon's pacing stutters and then starts up again. Jin doesn't need him right now, Jin he can help later.
Tae takes Jin's hand and leads him to the outdoor furniture. The cushions have to be damp but they sit anyway. Tae pulls her knees under her and rests her cheek on Jin's shoulder. “That’s what I thought too at first.”
Namjoon almost sobs when he hears it- the click of the dial tone and a single breath. He can hear the thud of the train in the background, the hiss of pressure against the scratchy speaker.
“Pup? oh thank god, stay where you are- the others are-”
“Namjoon? Joonie stop- I didn’t pick up so that you could convince me to come back. I only picked up because I never said goodbye.”
Namjoon freezes, and he feels like the snowmelt from the roof has just dripped down his back. Growing frigid more with each word. If there was ever a question on if you’d gone willingly or been taken- it was answered with that.
“Pup, come home right now or I swear to god-”
“No! For once you’re going to listen!” You’ve only shouted at him a handful of times and he’s hardly ever heard you sound so serious.
"No- you can't-"
“Namjoon, The second you say anything to try and convince me to stay is the moment I hang up, so what is it gonna be?”
Namjoon goes silent and stops his pacing. Holding the phone so hard it feels like the plastic and metal might break.
Namjoon’s very being hinges on every syllable you say, Like the ocean hinges on the moon. Water tethered and kept from the shore by something as simple as gravity. Tae is right there. Tae is watching the driveway not saying anything with that same blank look Namjoon has seen on your face countless times.
All at once Namjoon is reminded of you in the summertime back when he first met you and trauma had you all quiet. Staring off into space in much the same way. Small and fragile and worth saving. You’ve always been that for him; worth saving.
Jin scrubs a hand across his face, clearing himself of the last little bits of sleep. He holds out his hand for the phone, but Namjoon doesn’t give it to him just paces right by him as he listens to you.
“I only picked up the phone because I have some things that I want to say to you.”
You sound more settled and less angry but just as resigned and convicted of what you're doing. Like no part of you doubts your choices. Namjoon wishes you sounded angry, that you sounded sad, but you don’t sound like any of those things.
“I'm not leaving because I think I don't deserve a life with you and the pack. I’m not leaving because I think that I’m not worth your love. I’m leaving because for the first time I know that I am.
“For the first time I understand why Yoongi left and why he didn’t come back until he knew it would be safe. Because when you love something the way that I love you, you’ll do anything to protect them. Can you really blame me Joonie? For doing what you might have done?”
You continue on like you’re not wrenching Namjoon’s heart clean from his chest. Like you’re not a hurricane on his very being- dark and thunderous tearing through him as impersonal as wind. Namjoon’s heart thuds and thuds and thuds.
“Before I leave you, I want you to know that if I loved you less- I might have stayed.”
Namjoon’s lungs ache, ache and sting and swell with words he can’t say, he can’t breathe. His mouth screwed into a soundless sob. He actually might be having a panic attack. He's never had one before- he's not sure if he knows what one feels like. If it's like this- if it's like this he can understand why people call them an attack.
It's frantic, like he's chewing off his own leg to get out of your words. The panic is so terrible. Namjoon hasn't been this scared since he was a child. At least Yoongi had the fucking decency not to make his leaving so visceral.
Namjoon is bent over, tears dripping down his nose, sagging almost to his knees. “Why are you doing this to us!? To me!”
Something jiggles the phone, something that makes your voice all warbly- Namjoon imagines you on the train in a window seat. Resting your cheek against the balmy glass while you talk to him. Staring out at the scenery racing by. Hurtling towards your future like a comet or maybe an asteroid (something more destructive- more appropriate for the wretchedness filling Namjoon’s lungs like tar, the desiccated bodies of the dreams he had for you and the plans he made with you in mind clogging his lungs and making it hard to breathe).
Who knows, maybe off between the trees and the road, you see a red car zooming, trying to keep pace with the train.
Namjoon’s heart feels like it’s skipping too many beats.
“Something Jin told me the other day got stuck in my head and I keep thinking about it, would you like to hear it?”
You take his silence for permission and Namjoon does not turn to look at Jin and Tae sitting on the outdoor furniture. They just sit there; they don't do anything. Namjoon wishes there was something they could do or something he could barter for your safe return but you already have all of him and all of him wasn't enough to make you stay.
“Jin showed me this little article the other day- a few weeks ago now. He can tell you it in more detail but basically, it was about these mice.”
Namjoon struggles to say something- unsure where you’re going with this but desperate to keep you on the line. At least until the others get to you. Drinking down your voice, the whisper of your breath, everything.
“They made like- two test groups, they wanted to measure like- willpower- or how long they would try to live before they gave up. It’s kinda dark I guess. I'm not a good judge of things like that you know.”
Your laugh is the prettiest and saddest thing that Namjoon’s ever heard. He wants to record it and save it for later like some hidden track and he never wants to hear it again.
“Anyways- they put the mice and a bucket of water and timed how long it took for them to stop swimming, to stop trying to live. They’d try for a little while but give up pretty quickly. Like- an hour. That’s how much will to live that they had: an hour’s worth of it.”
Namjoon breaks, shouting, “I don’t want to talk about mice I want to talk about getting you the fuck home!”
Namjoon can hear your smile in your voice, And no-no-no you won’t even let him fight- you won’t even let him snap at you and engage with it. Namjoon’s seen you sad, he’s seen you defeated. He’s seen you so hungry you could hardly hold your head up. But seeing you convicted of this punishment is worse than anything.
“Anyway- they just killed the first group for a baseline. But with the second group just before they died- just before they went underwater- They took them out of the water and dried them off.”
Your voice goes hushed at the end. The morning sunlight cuts across the top of the house yellow. The tree too- it’s early morning- Namjoon’s favorite time of day and he won’t be ever able to properly enjoy it again. Won’t ever be able to wake up at this time of day and not think about the morning you left.
“They let them rest and gave them some food.”
Namjoon feels like he’s about to have a heart attack, blood thumping and hitting against his ribcage. Bullying out the flowers and the butterflies in his stomach.
“Cuddled them a little.”
Namjoon stands at the doorway to the pack den. Hands so tight in their fists that they ache and ache. Namjoon’s hands have saved countless people’s lives before, and they’ve saved yours too- but right now they just hurt.
“And when they put them back in,”
Noodle meows dolefully from the door, swatting at Jin’s ankles and then purring around Tae’s. Namjoon’s knees are shaking.
“They lasted for a whole 12 hours longer. Because they thought they might be saved. Because they had some love to remember. They were able to last for a lot longer than they would have otherwise.”
His face is screwed something terrible with how hard he’s sobbing. How is it that just an hour ago you were safe in his arms, talking about getting away from here. Just an hour ago. It's still 5am a time zone away, if Namjoon got on a plane and flew there- would you still be safe? Is there any way to turn back time?
You only get to love people for as long as you get and not a second more. You get what you get and you don't get upset. Yoongi might have been your lifeblood, the air in your lungs and your reason for existing, but you’d still be that fragile creature close to drowning if it wasn’t for Namjoon.
“Namjoon?” You say his name once and then softer, a croon. “Joonie.”
He's sobbing too hard to see, “Don’t-”
“Thank you for drying me off.”
The phone clicks and disconnects.
Namjoon falls to the stairs, ass in a puddle but none of him cares. He remembers the first day he heard you speak, sitting on these stairs while he helped Yoongi fix the railing. Namjoon remembers the summer heat and feeling scared for you for the first time- because the railing felt so rickety and the last thing he wanted was for you or Jungkook or Hobi to fall. Namjoon is the one who is falling, hurtling towards destruction that stops and ends with his heart.
His hands hurt. He remembers laughing with the others and stealing sips of sweet tea. Nibbling on the sour lemons, sweaty and hot and dusty. His eyes feel like they’re going to fall out of his head with how hard he’s crying. He remembers that you’d poked his dimples and called them pretty, he remembers feeling tired after but fulfilled for it.
One scene in summer and the other in winter now. At the beginning of a relationship and now at the end. The stairs still creek, the wind still blows and Namjoon's hands are still sweaty.
Namjoon sobs loudly and it echos across the empty cul-de-sac gut-wrenching. People cry differently when they lose people they love. Namjoon has heard people cry like this after he’s told them bad news, no sign of brain activity. We did everything that we could. I'm so sorry. It sounds different now that it’s coming out of his own mouth.
He actually might pass out with how hard he’s breathing. Teeth dig into his lower lip so hard he tastes blood. He’s still holding the phone to his ear. “Pup- wait- I love you- you can’t do this to us- to me.” But you’ve already hung up on him.
The dial tone tears through him like a bullet. Namjoon should be bleeding, broken hearts don't hurt this much without blood. People don’t hurt this much without actual wounds.
Eventually, something touches his back, a soft furry creature that only makes Namjoon sob harder as Noodle bullies his way under Namjoon’s arm and licks at his fingertips. Before long there’s hands on him. Jin and Tae pull him up and onto the furniture. One hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. Jin grabs his wrist. Circling it gently before he holds his hands and nudges them until they relax from their clenched fists.
Namjoon cries.
Together they watch the road and wait for the others to return.
~-~
(Hidden playlist ▶ Play track?)
“Shit!”
They miss the first train by just a few seconds. It screeches away from the platform when Jungkook gets out of the car. Standing there for a breath and watching it pull away. The metal thud screech of it drowns out Yoongi’s voice.
Jimin hits the wheel and growls before he revs the engine and turns, almost hitting a fire hydrant with how quick and jerky he backs up and accelerates. Leaning forward through the window to snap at Jungkook.
“Get back in the fucking car!”
Jungkook does, the door barely latching and almost swinging free as Jimin peels out of the parking lot. Slamming back shut when Jimin does a near 180 to accelerate back onto the main road.
“Sorry hyung,” Yoongi doesn’t need to reply- they all know that every second matters.
Jimin almost collides with a car stopped at the light before he drives on the shoulder, spinning around them. The train matches the road at this part of the tracks so it’s easy to follow it. They keep pace with it as Jimin pushes 70 miles an hour and then 80.
Jimin keeps the gas pedal well acquainted with the floor until they're going faster than the train. Weaving in and out of traffic back and forth, getting honked at and almost cut off several times. Leaving his packmates to grip to seats and their handles. Worried about getting thrown off but still- not wearing their seatbelts.
“We’re never going to make it! It’s too fast! We’re going to hit traffic soon!” The closer they get to the city the less likely it is that they'll be able to catch up to you. It's nearly early morning rush hour, another 30 minutes and these roads will be at a standstill.
“Hang on- let me see the map,” Hoseok watches Yoongi look at it.
“If we go to the next station, we won’t make it. But, if we try to go to the one after that and cut it off-” A look around the car says everyone agrees with Yoongi. Jimin steps on it, and there are a terrifying few minutes where Jimin’s driving skills honestly make them all count their prayers and promise things to gods that they’re already not fond of- but when they skitter and screech into the next station he hears it.
“The next inbound train will be arriving shortly, please collect your belongings. And remember-“
Hoseok is hot on the announcements heals. Sliding to get out of the car before it’s really stopped. “If we miss this one just go to the next station without us-”
“-if you see something say something.”
The train is coming- Hoseok can see the lights about a 100 feet down the tracks and it's moving fast. Yoongi almost makes to get out but Hoseok just shoves him back inside. Jungkook gets out of the car too, bolting in the direction of the stairs. “Hoseok-”
“Yoongi- Just go!”
There are maybe three flights of stairs up, then 50 feet across the tracks, and then the same amount of steps down. He and Jungkook book it up them. Making every second count. Hurtling through time and air. Ignoring the sore and tired pulse of their muscles. They’re clearing the top step and the train is below them. A silver bullet careening and destined to do damage but slowing down.
They bolt across the landing past the ticket kiosk and through the push doors. The train is stopping with a hiss of breaks and a screech of metal. A release of pressurized air that billows up to them warm carrying with it the smell of tar and city.
Hoseok’s lungs are burning. Jungkook is usually faster by just a little bit and would be on any ordinary day. They might be roughly the same height but Hoseok doesn't do cardio nearly as often as Jungkook does. Jungkook's the one who runs every day, who does cardio like it's sleeping and marathons like they're mid-afternoon naps. Who works out and hones his body to a lethal edge just because he can.
But he doesn’t run like Hoseok does.
Hoseok runs like his life depends on it- the same way you would run if he was walking into Geumjae’s arms. You’d never let Geumjae touch even a hair on Hoseok’s head and if- if Moonbyul is who you’re going to- then there is more at stake than just your phsyical safety, too much at stake for Hoseok to be held back by his body.
Hoseok thinks of the tiramisu. Of walking with you on the beach. Of making your nightime stacks just the way you like it. Of holding you that one time you almost fell into the water. Telling you that you had to be careful. Hoseok remembers driving out in his car, tugging your seatbelt to make sure it fit snug. Standing with you side by side in the flower refrigerators at work and the feeling the first time you’d rubbed your scent gland to his. Every playlist of his with your name on it, every song that you ever shared. All of that- she’s going to destroy all of that if Hoseok doesn’t get to you in time.
He remembers how small she made him feel. How small you were when he first saw you. He won’t let you get that way again. Hoseok won’t let you disappear.
Jungkook is the one who would win this race on any other day, where the stakes any different, but just this once Hoseok is faster. Hurling himself over the concrete as fast as his body will take him. Hoseok cuts through the air like wind.
They run, feet thumping. Bodies thudding, hearts and lungs delivering oxygen to their needy muscles. Beat-up sneakers gripping the concrete. Down and down the stairs, plummeting. Almost tripping and falling on the slippery concrete steps. The doors start to close just as they round the corner.
By some miracle of blood and sweat, Hobi's the one who overtakes Jungkook. The doors are closing and the train's metal shell is beginning to hum and vibrate as it makes to pull away from the tracks.
In a last-ditch effort, Hoseok throws himself in the direction of the closing doors.
~-~
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Do i think that hobi could have actually warned the pack what she was planning to do? Yes. Do I also think that he thought he had more time to warn them and really wanted to sleep off his near death experience? also yes. Namjoon giving him drugs obviously didn't help. i honestly don't think he was thinking clearly.
this is one of those chapters where everything could have gone differently if they'd just been given a little bit more- but i digress- we all know life isn't so neat and tidy.
I can't not write thinking about the angsty alternative ending for bily- but you guys should know the namjoon/m/c scene...if things had gone poorly in this chapter- this would have been the last time they spoke or touched each other for 3 years- for those who are wondering about the alternative ending- i will NOT be posting any of it on AO3. Only on tumblr through asks! i'll try to tag the super triggering stuff but yeah.
when i think of namjoon and the m/c and their relationship- i think that what they want most for each other is to just see the other old and happy like- that becomes the foundation for their relationship. thats why it's namjoon who she thanks. it also doesn't escape me that yoongi is not in this chapter very much- this is intentional. just wait for next chapter and his anger! i swear its so fucking hot my god i really wanted them to fuck in the next chapter but i just don't think it's going to happen.
the og version of this chapter called for jimin parking hobi's car on the tracks and literally letting the train hit it- not derail- but just hit it. just to get it to stop for the m/c however i figured that was going a bit too far.
Me writing any part with jimin in it- "what if i added a bit of religious trauma to it?"
the line where namjoon talks about his hands hurting is like- directly related to me, because my hands didn't hurt all the time before i started writing bily but now my Knuckles hurt almost every morning. After writing for more than an hour they hurt. i guess when you love something enough it hurts you lol i don't mind.
the "you want a lifetime with them" lines are mostly a callback to like...grey's anatomy. namjoon's charecter is LOOOSELY based on mcdreamy of course the whole...neurosurgeon thing and i am 3 seasons into a re-watch so~ you will have to tollerate that cringeworthy refrence~
i've always wanted to structure a chapter around the thud and thump of a heart and yeah!! i think did a few back but i wanted to do it again~
i don't think i was very subtle with the hoseok train station and the train ticket parts of the story like- i think i forshadowed pretty heavily that it was eventually going to be used but! i hope you liked the big reveal.
how did you guys like the cliffhanger? should i spoil it for you when i've always said that bily would get a happy ending????? i mean...come on... we all know hoseok's gonna be fast enough right?
#bts x reader#bts poly au#bts omegaverse au#bts a/b/o#bts polyamory au#bts fluff#bts mafia au#bts gang au#bts au#bts#bts werewolf au#bts hurt/comfort#bts angst#bts hybrid fic#bts x reader angst#bts x reader fluff#bts x reader hurt/comfort#min yoongi x reader#park jimin x reader#jung hoseok x reader#kim taehyung x reader#kim seokjin x reader#kim namjoon x reader#bts omegaverse#bts omegaverse fic#bts fanfiction#omegaverse fanfic#omegaverse#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook angst
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Different 10 - college hs
Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.
Author's note: hello my lovely people! Here is a new chapter of different. I hope you enjoy!
warnings: SMUT
check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all 25 chapters, various one shots and much more :)
---> different masterlist <---
Forty-five minutes into the movie the couple change positions. Majorly caused by the pain that Y/N had begun experiencing in her coccyx since her whole weight was distributed on it. Y/N sat up, careful not to make any sound that would disturb the rest of the people. She pulled away from him and laid on her side beside him, giving her back to him.
Harry followed and lay on his side too. He threw his arm over her waist and pulled her body close to his. His chest is pressed against her back and their legs are angled together as they continued watching the movie silently.
Y/N couldn’t concentrate on the movie. She could feel his hard chest expanding and condensing against her back. Harry’s fingers had found a small piece of bare skin beside her belly button. Skin that he kept caressing and kept leaving a burning trail. His touch was soft yet penetrable and her hands ached with the desire of touching him. She swallowed every bit of it back and turned her full attention back into the movie.
The two hours left movie blew past them before the couple even realized that the movie had ended. People clap and cheer loudly as the credit roll in. It was dark and chilly, but cold enough for them to make them get up quickly and leave like the others. Y/N pressed her body closer to him and snuggled into his chest.
“Chilly?” He whispered, “Turn around,” Harry said softly, as he reached over her and took another blanket that he had noticed that she had brought. “Here,” he said extending the blanket over her body.
It is dead silent for a few minutes, only their breaths could be heard.
“Do you miss England?” She asked him. Her question brought him back to reality. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked” She apologized and pulled away a bit from him.
“Where are you going?” He frowned, pulling her back into his chest. “I- I do. Haven’t been back in a long time” He shrugged, as he drew patterns on the skin of her arm.
“Have you ever felt lonely in a room full of people?” He exhaled loudly, as his brain scrambled for a response. He wasn’t sure if he needed to be honest with her or lie. The last thing he wanted to do was scared her off, but he also wanted to be truthful with her.
“Always” Harry gulped. Y/N grip on him got tighter as if she was trying to protect him.
“Me too” she whispered.
“I’ve never been to England.” She shared, breaking the tension and sadness that had arisen from the conversation.
“Absurd. We will need to change that” He chuckled after hearing her giggle. Y/N nuzzles her face in the crook of his neck. Hypnotized by the strong odor of his cologne, aftershave, and fabric softener.
The atmosphere was serene and tranquil. The thought of taking Y/N to England to meet the people close to him and where he had grown up — excited him beyond explanation.
“Would you be my girlfriend?” He asked after mustering all this courage. “I- I know that we met a few months ago… You don’t have to say yes… I understand that it might be soon — it just came out.” He rambled nervous to what she might say. She grabbed him by the chin and pulled him enough, so their lips were barely brushing against each other's.
“Yes” she whispered, “I thought you would never ask” and so she kissed him. He tangled his fingers through her hair and pulled her on top of him.
“What are you doing?” He asked feeling how she was shimming her way down this body. She pushed him down. “We are in public” He popped himself on his elbows just to see her flip her hair to the side. Her hands swiftly unbuckled and unbuttoned his pants with a cheeky smile. “darlin’ ” he laughed as she struggled to pull the jeans off his legs. “What if someone sees us?” He challenged, trying his best to regain a serious tone, so she would take him seriously. “I AM SERIOUS” Harry exclaimed with a heavy English accent.
“I am too!” Y/N giggled nibbling and kissing on the skin under his belly button. Harry gasped at the sensation of her warm lips against him. “Let me make you feel good” He nodded but continued staring at her wearily. Y/N pulled down his boxers just enough to reveal the important bit. “No fucking way” she whispered under her breath as she had her first look at him. He was bigger than she had expected.
Harry looked away, clearly feeling uncomfortable and extremely exposed. He was untouched and his innocence only made him more appealing to her eyes.
“Stop looking at me like that” He pleaded to her just seconds before she planted a soft kiss on each of his hip bones, leading a trail to the place that he desired her the most to touch. His skin was smooth and hot. Y/N reached the base of him and securely wrapped a hand around, instantly making his hips jerk towards her.
Y/N peppered kisses, leaving a wet trail to his tip. She can feel him getting painfully harder by the second of her tender touch. She looked up momentarily and caught eyes with him. He was still pooped up on his elbows, with his mouth slightly opened. As she saw the heat and the anticipation that his eyes held, she decided to put him out of his misery and wrap her mouth around him.
“Oh shit” he cried as she felt every muscle on him contract as she slowly bobbed her head. She had never been a fan of giving sloppy blowjobs. They made her feel dirty and men usually took the chance to manhandle her. She also believed that it took the intimacy out of the act. She liked taking her time especially when she desired Harry more than anyone else before. Y/N ran her tongue around the tip before pulling it entirely back into her mouth. She breathed out of her nose trying to control her gag reflex as he hit the back of her throat. “Christ” he breathed, throwing his head back.
“You like that?” She whispered with her lips still pressed against the side of him after she had taken him out. Harry nodded and exhaled loudly, recovering from the extreme pleasure that he had just experienced.
Y/N traced her tongue along the vein that kept palpitating under her tongue. It was quiet for a bit except for the clicking sound coming from the necklace she wore, his heavy breathing, and his occasional cursing. She started picking up her pace, as she felt he was starting to grow impatient. Harry reached out and gathered her hair, helping to keep it out of the way since it tickled his skin.
“Just like that” he managed to say, throwing his head back, raising his hips from the floor, and his grip on her hair tightened. Y/N pressed her hands against his thighs as she tried her best to keep him in her mouth at least until he finished releasing. He sat up to get a better view and watched her swallow any reminisce of him.
Harry sat there with a lustful look. His hair was messy from running his fingers through it and from all the movement. His breathing was still heavy, and his lips were swollen from biting down on them. He had a few marks on his thighs from her nails which he found attractive that she had marked him.
“Did you like it?” She asked, sitting back. Harry doesn’t say anything back, but instead leans forward and pulls her to his lap by her waist. She can feel him against her leg, but she tries her best to ignore it and the desire and tingling that crept up. Y/N wrapped her arms around his next and felt his hands, running down her back.
“It was good” He smiled and kissed her lips, “I can taste myself on you” Harry whispered against her lips.
“Let me help you” Y/N reached down, to try to tuck him back into his pants, but the second she touched him, he jerked away. He was still sensitive.
“Better get dressed before anything else happens” Harry shyly smiled, coming into the senses, and realizing that he was naked from the waist down in the middle of a field. “We should go. I have an early class tomorrow.” All night long, Ganesh had been texting him and asking where he was. He had also been very insistent on the importance of doing the work that the professor had assigned them. “Ganesh” he shook his head as he read over the alarming texts.
“What are you going to say to him?”
“The truth” Harry responded with a quick ok and then blocked his phone.
“That your girlfriend took you out of class, took you to a drive-in, and gave you head in the middle of a field?” She asked as she got off the back of the car to start cleaning up.
“I’ll probably omit the last part.”
--> Chapter 11
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trouble's always gonna find you baby, but so will i
For Whumptober prompt 10, I used "blow to the head" and "slurred words." Title from Western Nights by Ethel Cain.
Also on AO3.
Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Rating: T
W/C: 1546
Tags: post-vecna, established steddie, whump, assault, injured steve, pistol-whipped, hospital, hurt/comfort, happy ending.
Summary: Steve's found by some men looking to pass Al Munson's drug debt on to his son.
But he'll die before he gives Eddie up.
___
“You ready to talk?”
The man’s leaning close to Steve’s ear, rancid breath filling his nostrils, his fist caked in blood.
Steve’s blood.
Steve gasps for air, bats at the man’s wrist again, kicks out futilely. He receives a boot to his leg for his efforts, the second man grunting at the force he puts behind it.
His head’s swimming. Distantly, he wonders just how many concussions a person can take before their brain just sort of…leaks out their ears.
Surely he’s almost at the brain leaking stage by now.
Blood dribbles from his mouth, sticks to his teeth.
“Where’s Eddie Munson?” The first man growls.
Steve keeps his mouth shut. He’ll never give up Eddie, certainly not to these lowlifes, these associates of Al Munson looking to pass a drug debt onto the jailed man’s son.
He’ll die first.
When he says nothing, there’s the tell-tale click of a gun being cocked.
Steve really thinks he might actually die tonight.
If no one walks past this back alley, he’s toast.
Cold metal presses against his temple. Lucidity grips him for a moment, and Steve squirms in the grip of the two men, trembling all over.
“No…no, you can’t…I don’t know where he is, I don’t.” It’s a lie. It’s a fucking lie but he can’t.
“I ain’t fucking playing,” the man spits out, pressing the handgun harder against the side of Steve’s head. “You’ve got about five seconds before I decorate these walls with your brain, pretty boy.”
Steve swallows. He tastes rust and salt, coughs as it goes down. Heart hammering, ears ringing, fingers scrabbling at the hand fisted at his collar.
He’s going to die. Here, in the pitch black, in the dankest, dirtiest alleyway in Hawkins, where Jonathan had once beat him to a pulp while his friends looked on.
His tongue darts out over his lips. The barrel of the gun’s against his head still.
He thinks of Eddie.
Of cracked lips and gentle hands, long curls and pale skin that Steve loved to touch.
He’ll die before he gives him up.
In a moment of defiance, he locks eyes with his attacker.
The man curses, raises his hand, and whips the butt of the pistol across Steve’s face.
Steve’s head is slammed to the side at the force, his cheek immediately wet with blood where the skin parts.
“Last chance.” The man spits at the ground beside him, and then the gun’s lowered in front of Steve’s face again.
The world’s a blur in front of him. Steve blinks sluggishly, listens to his pulse pounding in his ears.
Eddie would be home from work by now. He’d be at the cabin by the lake, where he and Steve had been staying after…everything. They’d just wanted some peace in the wake of Vecna, away from the prying eyes of the Hawkins townsfolk, the ones that still blamed Eddie for everything that had happened to the town.
Steve was going to cook dinner for the two of them.
He’d been halfway through when he realized they didn’t have any butter, had driven back into town to buy some. It lay beside him now with the rest of the last-minute groceries he’d grabbed scattered on the filthy concrete. Even when he’d been jumped in the empty parking lot, he’d kept hold of his bag, too shocked to drop it until they’d slammed him up against the wall in the alleyway.
Eddie would be worried, he’d be wondering where Steve was, he’d come looking…
Steve hopes someone else finds him, after. Anyone but Eddie.
“Fuck you,” Steve slurs, with the last of his strength.
The man’s expression hardens.
Steve’s eyes drift close, and he waits for death.
Instead, there’s the wailing of a siren several blocks over.
The other man, the younger one who’d been sending the other nervous looks the whole time, lets go of Steve. He slumps sideways, lacking the strength to stay sitting upright.
“We gotta go,” the younger man urges.
“Nah, he’ll break,” the elder scoffs.
“That’s the fucking police.”
“They’re still a ways off. Probably doing something else.”
“I’m out, man.” The younger one backs away, turns on his heel, and runs.
The older man swears. The siren gets louder, and Steve thinks he can see red and blue lights in the distance, but maybe it’s just his injured brain firing on all cylinders.
“We’ll be back,” he hisses at Steve, kicks him one last time for good measure, and then he’s gone.
Steve sucks in a breath. Winces as everything hurts, his ribs and his stomach and his face all on fire.
He needs to move. Needs to get out to the road where someone might see him, because there’s no way he’s going to make it back to his car.
A whimper escapes from between clenched teeth as he braces against the wall.
He thinks of Eddie.
Shoves himself to his feet, one arm looped against his stomach protectively. His ribs crunch, and he knows there’s broken bone there, cracked under the onslaught of savage kicks the men had delivered to his sides.
It starts to rain.
And that, on top of everything else, has Steve almost breaking out into hysterical laughter. Because of course it’s fucking raining, just when he’d thought his night couldn’t get any worse. Rain mixes with the blood on his face, leaving watery streaks, and Steve slips and staggers his way across the concrete, past the butter turning to a damp mess, past the carton of eggs smashed across the ground.
Several times, he ends up on his knees, everything spinning.
But slowly, every inch of him screaming in agony, he makes it to the road.
There’s a patrol car up ahead, the siren cut now but the lights still flashing on the roof, reflecting off the rain falling.
Steve’s shirt is soaked through as he hobbles towards the car.
“Help,” he tries to call out, but it comes out as a croak, blood spilling out behind it.
He stumbles again, sobs, scrabbles against the concrete with ragged nails and forces himself upright again.
There’s a familiar figure in front of him, hauling some drunk guy to his feet, waving him away from a storefront.
Hopper.
Steve’s crying in relief now.
“Hop,” he rasps.
The chief turns. His eyes go wide, and he runs to Steve, catching him before he can fall again.
“Steve? What the hell happened?”
Steve’s mumbling into Hopper’s chest, he’s trying to tell him, but his tongue’s heavy in his mouth and his words are all merging together.
“In the car, come on,” Hopper’s telling him, guiding him to the passenger seat of the patrol car and easing him in.
Steve leans against the door, shivering, distantly aware of Hopper saying something, but then his eyes are falling closed and he slips into darkness.
*****
He wakes to a steady beep.
There’s a hand on his, warm and familiar.
He’d know it anywhere.
Slowly, he cracks open one eye, then the other.
Eddie’s beside him. He’s pale, bags under his eyes, his bottom lip gnawed to shit, but he perks up now.
“Stevie? Sweetheart, can you hear me?” He squeezes Steve’s hand.
Steve goes to speak, but no sound escapes his raw throat. Instead, he nods, his head feeling heavy and stuffy.
“Steve, I’m so sorry.”
Eddie’s crying.
Steve hates that he’s crying. Hates that he’s the reason for Eddie’s tears.
“Don’t cry,” Steve whispers, his throat rattling. He feels the unmistakable tug of stitches on his cheek when his mouth moves, feels tender skin stretch and flex under bruises.
Eddie only cries harder, scootching his chair closer, forehead finding Steve’s chest and resting there lightly.
“Hopper told me, he said he could barely make out what you said but he heard men, and drugs, and you said my name…Stevie, they wanted me, didn’t they?”
“I didn’t tell them anything,” Steve slurs, “promise.”
“Baby, I don’t…I don’t care about that, I’m worried about you!” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, swipes at the tears across his face, before taking Steve’s hand again. “You’ve got two broken ribs, a serious concussion, and two lots of stitches in your head. You…you could’ve died.”
Steve’s feeling…fuzzy. He recognizes the warm, soupy sensation of painkillers pumping steadily through his veins, knows without them he’d probably be feeling a whole lot worse than he is now.
He reaches a hand up, paws at the air a couple of times before it finally settles where he wants it, on the back of Eddie’s head, soothing over his curls.
“S’ok,” he mumbles, “I’m ok. Gonna…gonna make you dinner. When I’m outta here. Promise.”
Eddie splays a hand across Steve’s stomach, tears soaking into the crisp white sheet on the hospital bed.
“No, you’re not,” Eddie tells him softly. “When you’re out of here, I’m going to look after you. Gonna make you your favourite meals, I’ll fucking…spoon feed you, I’m not letting you out of bed until you’re completely healed.”
“Sounds fun,” Steve drawls, halfway to sleep because Eddie’s here, he’s warm and his voice is soothing and he’s safe.
“I love you,” Eddie whispers, “so fucking much.”
“Love you too,” Steve slurs out, and then he’s asleep again, secure in Eddie’s arms.
___
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imagine reader and coworker/friend/crush Spencer and you guys are having lunch out of the office and run into your ex who is like a tall shayne basically and spencer gets a bit jealous/insecure and starts avoiding you a bit and you think you did something wrong
idk man I'm not a writer but you know what I mean?
The Ex | Spencer Agnew x Reader
I hope you like it!
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“I don’t know what to get.” You sighed, analyzing the menu.
“Honestly I haven't had something I didn’t like.” Courtney, who was sitting across from you, said.
“Well that's reassuring.” You replied, “What are you getting Spence?” You asked, turning your head to look at your friend beside you.
Some of your friends and coworkers decided to go out for lunch today, taking advantage of the cool weather since it’s been so humid and hot the past week. The group had taken Courtneys suggestion and now you were sitting outside on a beautiful patio, surrounded by your friends.
Spencer sat to your left, like always. Amanda and Angela were sitting on the other side of Spencer, Shayne and Courtney mirrored you and Spencer with Chanse next to them.
“I’m not totally sure. Do we wanna both order something and split both?” Spencer asked.
“That’s perfect.” You replied, “Everything sounds good. I don't think I’d be able to choose just one anyway.”
Your waiter had brought out your drinks and a few appetizers that Courtney and Shayne insisted on everyone trying. You and Spencer were currently splitting the last piece of bread from the basket, arguing over which half was bigger.
“Oh my god Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice ask. You turned, realizing you recognized the voice because stood a few yards away was your ex. You froze for a moment. You hadn’t seen him in at least three years. The last time being at a mutual friends going away party when they moved to Europe.
“Shaun.. Hey..” You replied, still confused, standing to face him.
“God it’s been a minute, huh?” Shaun asked, giving you a friendly hug that you reciprocated.
“What, like two? Three? years?” You asked.
“I think so! You look good, new hair? I like it.” He smiled.
“Well thank you. You look good too.” You responded, noticing how much muscle he had gained. He had always been kinda a gym rat but wasn’t into massive muscle growth when you were together.
Your food came while you were talking, giving Shaun the notice to leave. “I don’t want to keep you from your lunch. Is that plate yours?” He asked, pointing to your order. You nodded. “Taste hasn’t changed then.” He remarked before giving you a half hug and walking away.
You sat back down, joining your friends, only to be met with amused stares. “What?” You asked, placing your napkin back in your lap.
“Who was that hunk?” Chanse asked.
“That’s just Shaun.” You replied casually, beginning to half your meal for Spencer.
“Well clearly there was something there.” Spencer huffed under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, it’s just clearly you had history with this Shaun.” He replied, not looking at you as he portioned part of his food to you.
“We used to date.” You admitted, earning a chorus of teases from the table, minus Spencer. “It was like three years ago!”
“Why’d you break up? He’s… whoo!” Amanda asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you.
“We just didn’t work out, the feeling just stopped being there. We only dated for like 10 months.”
Most of the lunch ended up with the group interrogating you about your relationship with Shaun. Your relationship was fine and ended amicably so there wasn’t much to say.
You noticed that Spencer didn’t contribute much to any conversation. You tried to pass it off as him just being tired since he has been working extra hard lately.
You and Spencer had carpooled to lunch, like you do most days. Usually your drives are filled with laughter, discussion, or singing but this time it was almost silent, save for the music playing softly.
Spencer was one of your favorite people. You and him had instantly clicked and had become good friends ever since. So his silence was unnerving. You tried to talk to him about it but he shut the conversation down and beelined it to his desk when you made it back to the office, promptly putting on his headphones.
—
God what a fucking idiot. Spencer thought, feeling insecure about himself. He was literally jacked. Why would she be interested in me?
Spencer has liked you for a long time. He was immediately attracted to you upon meeting, he thought you were stunning and had great style. The more he got to know you the more he fell for you. He thought you had such a beautiful mind. You were so kind and generous. Not to mention you were hilarious and had a very similar humor to him. He genuinely thought you were the perfect woman.
Your friendship had developed even further a few months ago when you spent the night at his place after a long night. While Spencer was aware of his feelings for you it was solidified that night as you were peacefully sleeping in his bed.
He thought that your friendship was moving into more romantic territory recently but seeing your ex made him feel like he was wrong. Shaun was 6 foot 2 and had muscles larger than Shaynes. He could never compare to him.
Deciding he would never have a chance with you he wasn’t sure how to be around you right now. Every time you laughed Spencer swore it was the most beautiful thing ever, how was he supposed to just casually be around you?
He didn’t want to ignore you but he needed to come to terms with only ever being your friend.
—
The work day was wrapping up, almost everyone was packing their things and saying their goodbyes. Spencer still hadn’t said a word to you. He managed to evade you every time you tried to talk to him. You had filmed a video for the pit channel but you could tell your energy was low and off. Spencer had never acted like this with you and it hurt. You didn’t think you said or did anything to offend him. You were running through the day, retracing your steps to figure out what happened.
You had breakfast with Spencer at work, had two meetings, filmed a games video– and everything was normal. Then everyone broke for lunch and you went out with the group, then you saw Shaun, then you– Then you saw Shaun.
Shit.
You knew Spencer was still in the office, he always stays an extra 30-45 minutes everyday. You waited a little longer, allowing most of the office to leave before you made your way to Spencer.
“Hey,” You began, easing into things.
“Uh, hey.” He replied, quickening his packing to leave before any real conversation could begin.
“You’re so much better.” You added, not wanting him to be able to walk away.
“I’m sorry?” He replied, confused.
“You’re so much better than him, than Shaun.” You breathed, ready to bear your heart.
“I- I don’t understand?”
“You make me laugh so much and you’re so caring and- and you’re my best friend. I haven’t even thought about Shaun in years until I saw him today. You know who I do think about? You. You Spencer. I think about you everyday.” You finished, breathless. Spencer didn’t say anything, he just stared at you. “Please say something.”
“I’m such an idiot aren’t I?” He asked finally. You didn’t say you wanted him explicitly but Spencer could hear it, he knew you so well.
“The biggest I know.” You laughed, “But I love you for it.”
He pulled you into a hug. This was what you loved, Spencer hugged you like you were the most valuable thing on Earth, he held you like you would disappear, he always did and said everything right.
“Please don’t avoid me like that again.” You mumbled into his shoulder.
“Never again.” He promised, squeezing you a little tighter before pulling away, leaving his hands resting on your hips. “Come over tonight?”
“I would love that.” You smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek.
#spencer agnew#spencer agnew x reader#spencer agnew/reader#shayne topp#smosh#smosh games#smosh pit#smosh spencer#smosh cast#smosh fanfiction
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Corporate
John had coasted through his twenties like he thought everyone did. He got a quick degree in business and spent the next ten years traveling, partying, and fucking... A lot. His parents let him do whatever he wanted as long as he got a degree, they didn't say anything about using the degree.
He excused his behavior because every other rich white guy he partied with was doing the same thing. He had never even had an extended conversation with someone outside of the 1 percent, and it showed.
Hey, I mean at least he was really good at the one thing he did. To the point that he wouldn't remember most nights, only waking up with women's clothes in his bed. He would start swinging his massive dick around as soon as he got drunk and it wouldn't take long for someone to drag him to bed.
But it couldn't last forever. 30 came faster than he thought and it hit him like a truck. He couldn't drink like he used to, he couldn't party as hard as wanted to. His hairline was starting to recede and his six pack was disappearing under what would soon be a small beer belly. There were starting to be consequences for his actions. And as if it couldn't get any worse for poor John, his parents let him know what his birthday present was for this year. Every year prior had been something extravagant like a yacht or a sports car, so he was really looking forward to the big gift to make 30 not seem so bad.
Two weeks before his birthday, John received a text saying that his parents would take away his generous allowance if he didn't get a job by the time he was 30. His heart skipped a beat, he thought it was some big joke. He thought back to the times his parents had asked him to get a job before but he never thought they were serious. Though they did ask a lot now that he's thinking of it, and they didn't sound like they were joking.
John texted back, "haha, but seriously what is it?" Hoping they would back off and he could go back to being the old guy at all the yacht parties he threw. But they put their put down this time, threatening his 200k a month allowance and his present he was expecting for his birthday.
One week of the adult equivalent of kicking and screaming later, John gives in. Now he only has one week before it starts to cut into his allowance. He scrambled to make a shitty resume, assuming a business degree would get him any job he wanted.
He nervously clicked on a link his dad sent him to a company that works under his father's business. He submitted his resume and waited. It didn't take long for him to get a response and John patted himself on the back for making such a good resume. Although they obviously never even opened the resume, just going off of his father's recommendation.
He set up an interview for just before his birthday, and continued to party like he was still 20. He woke up the day of the interview, hungover and still wearing his disgusting clothes from the night before. He was nearly falling asleep at the wheel as he hadn't woken up before noon in ages, 10 am was such a ridiculous time to set an interview.
He stumbled into the expensive looking building and stood in front of reception.
"How can I help you?" The young lady behind the counter asked.
"Ugh... Yeah I could think of a few ways you could help me." John winked and gave a lazy smile.
"Sir, if you don't have any business here, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." The lady raised her voice, trying to hide her discomfort.
"Whatever, I'm here for an interview."
"What's your name?"
"John Fitzgerald."
The lady looked up for a moment, recognizing the name. She shook her head in disappointment as she grabbed the phone to call that he had arrived... only thirty minutes late.
A few moments later, an older man in a tailored suit approached the front desk. He walked right past John and asked the receptionist to point him in the direction of John. The lady looked over at John and raised her eyebrows to suggest he was right there. The older man turned and put on a fake smile to hide his disapproval.
"Follow me." The man put on a cheap up beat voice.
The man walked him down to a private office and opened a closet. He grabbed a dress shirt and black dress pants and basically shoved into John's chest.
"No man that respects himself wears those clothes to an interview, put these on." He let his anger slip through a bit.
"Wait really!?" John seemed perplexed. He thought he would answer a few questions about what he liked to do and that would be it.
"Yes, go on."
John sheepishly took off his shirt, revealing the small belly that had grown over his abs. It even bounced a bit as he pulled off his shirt. He then pulled down his pants to reveal his batman boxers that did nothing hide the massive bulge between his legs.
He slipped on the dress shirt, letting it spill to his knees like a dress. Then he pulled up the dress pants and held them at his waist. They were nearly 10 inches too long around the waist, and 5 inches too short, making them ride up his calves.
"They're too big!" John complained.
The man scoffed and grabbed a belt from the closet. Though the belt was also too big, leaving John still holding up the pants.
"They're still too big!" John whined.
"Oh just shut up. How long is this supposed to take." The old man looked impatiently at his watch.
"How long is wha-" John began to ask before pausing briefly, followed by a loud burp that seemed to make the room tremble.
John tried to talk but couldn't. He felt slow and groggy, more than he had before. The only noises he could muster were grunts as a warm feeling filled his stomach. Suddenly his hips thrusted forward and he let out a grunt. John looked down in horror as a sizable beer belly was now hiding under his oversized shirt. His hips thrusted again and his belly had doubled in size, making him look pregnant. One more thrust and a loud grunt and his fat gut doubled in size once more. It bounced up and down as it filled all the room in his massive shirt, finally drooping over his waistband.
John wanted to scream, but he couldn't. The only noises that came from his mouth were moans and grunts that sounded more and more sexual the more his body changed.
His sides soon followed, growing thick love handles that widened his once skinny frame, even spreading to his lower back. His chest puffed forward as his pecs disappeared under a thick layer of fat. His soft man tits finally rested on his gut, pushing up against his shirt and making them impossible to miss.
John looked up in desperation at the older man that stood before him, but he was just staring at his watch. Though he noticed something strange. He was looking up at the man, when he could have sworn that he looked down on him when he first met him. He took pride in his height, so he would have remembered being shorter than him.
This time his body thrusted backwards, making him nearly fall with his new center of gravity. With each thrust he felt the pants get tighter and tighter until his cheeks filled out all of the room in those size 42 pants. At least he didn't have to hold them up anymore. His thighs then thickened into fat tree trunks, permanently rubbing together and squishing his dick in between. Though that last part wouldn't last long, while his ever growing fat pad swallowed inches of his dick, it began to shrink as well. He felt it recede into his soft fat pad, now only having the tip peaking out of his fat. He stuffed his hand between his meaty thighs to try and find it but it wasn't there.
John then felt pressure building up around his feet until a loud POP rang through the office. He looked down to see what happened but it was blocked by his massive gut. Though the feeling of his bare feet on the ground suggested that his feet burst out of his shoes.
His arms began to twitch fat filled them like sausages, making them drop under their own weight. His hands also doubled in size as his fingers started to look thickened. He wanted to react, but it was starting to get hard to remember what he was texting to. All he could think about was finance.
Finally his face began to change. His young and spy look got covered in soft fat and wrinkles, aging him up at least 10 years. His hairline receded as thick sideburns covered his nonexistent jawline and his stubble formed a prominent mustache and goatee combo.
John let out a loud burp as his stomach grumbled. He grunted a few more times as he desperately tried to reach his crotch, but he was unsuccessful. He noticed his boss in front of him and tilted his head back to make eye contact with the man that is now much taller than him.
"What are we doing in your office boss?" John asked.
"Oh, you just had a wardrobe malfunction that's all." The boss said as he passed John a pair of shoes and a tie. "It's on the house since you've been such a good employee the last 10 years. I certainly don't mind getting you bigger clothes when you outgrow your current ones."
John panted and grunted trying to get his shoes on, he wasn't used to the extra padding all over his body. Despite that, he knows that he has been quite fat for many years now as memories of the last 10 years of his life flood in.
"Can't forget the wedding ring." The boss said as he slipped a nice ring into John's hand. "I just love that husband of yours, he is such a great cook. No wonder you gained so much weight after your marriage. It's almost like he got you pregnant." The boss chuckled.
John's face went blank as the memories of him coming out in his thirties and marrying the man that he loves. And he remembers the positive pregnancy test he had just before his 40th birthday.
"Oh my god, you are pregnant!" The boss shouted then covered his mouth. "Your secret's safe with me. Oh and also, I'll order some massive clothes for ya so you won't have to worry about it big guy." The boss said quietly as John left his office.
#male tf#masculine#fat tf#male wg#reality change#male transformation#age progression#mpreg#preppification
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Carmen definitely has black cat energy, maybe more akin to something like a stray cat (saying that lovingly) but definitely is more cat boyfriend than dog boyfriend. Have to leave him alone and gain his trust and then he’ll be curious about you, and then won’t leave you alone 🥰😭
this is completely true, carmen is kinda stand-offish and reserved at first and he is horrible at replying and calling you back because let’s face it he doesn’t really know how to communicate properly. but even after all that, all of that distance and reservations you force him to come out.
you drag him to a nice hole in the wall lunch spot, you take him for drinks, and then something just clicks in Carmen. Once he realises you aren’t going to leave him stranded he completely opens himself to you, and don’t try and tell me he wouldn’t be the most clingy mf after 😭 this man is literally a toddler yall!
So why not a little drabble down below? A sneak peak if you will. it’s likes 200 worth of word vomit and there’s allusion to smut to enjoy ;)
*
The busy streets of the farmers market spilled into the morning traffic, as Carmen rushes between crowds with two cups of coffee grasped against his chest.
They burned, really fucking bad, probably searing a third degree burn right under his pelvis but god did he not care, his legs ran with the wind behind them as he tried making it back to your shared apartment as quick as possible.
He had only left the warm bed where you lay 10 minutes ago, only after you had thought about ‘how good a coffee would be snuggled up here’ and Carmen had shouldered on a flimsy fleece jacket and his house slippers before racing out of the house to fulfill your request.
He didn’t regret it now, but he could practically feel his skin itch with a desire to feel you against him again. There had been a celebratory dinner of sorts for the beef after it got recognised as Chicago’s up and coming restaurant of the decade. Carmen couldn’t wait till you both made it to your apartment and just took your right there in the backseat of his car that now stood stationary in the parking lot.
Carmen can still taste you on his tongue and now he’s grateful he took a much needed day off to spend it with you.
Opening the apartment door, the smell of melted butter and grease washes over Carmen’s senses. Flipping of his slippers, Carmen past the kitchen, where used dishes lay on the stove top and the ingredients for pancakes lay open.
“Baby? I got our coffee?” Carmen yells out, and when there is no answer a sweat begins to break on Carmen’s forehead.
“H-honey? You there!?” Carmen yells louder, looking through the living room before entering the bedroom with haste.
“I’m right here Carmy, it’s alright” The sweet saccharine melody of your voice pulls Carmen from whatever fear inducing nightmare he fell into.
You’re here, back where your supposed to be. Wrapped around the covers that smelled of the both of you.
“Made us pancakes” You smile, the sun streaming in through the linen curtains so they dusted all over your gorgeous face.
If Carmen could shift his eyes away from you (which he can’t) he would see the pretty tower of pancakes dripping with syrup and berries plated on the bedside table. Hell, if he saw how well done they were you feared the coffee might get thrown across the room and Carmen will drag you up to his face.
“Got us coffee” Carmen whispered, placing them to the side, forgotten as his mind was consumed with feeling you against him.
“Just get in here already” You giggle, before the sheets are thrown to the side and the warmth of Carmen’s body encapsulates you once again.
#neonovember#requests#asks#lets talk#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#carmen berzatto drabble#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto x fem!reader#carmy the bear#carmy#carmy berzatto#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto x fem!reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto smut#drabbles#just my mind#carmy x drabble#the bear#the bear fx#carmen berzatto masterlist
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