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strayen-fx · 3 years ago

Text

Red.

》 HHJ x reader

》 angst, vampirish theme

》 warnings: mentions of blood, hints of physical assault

》 2.1k words

》 a/n: short and simple, after months of writing break. Hope you guys enjoy regardless :)

“Stay away from them, my dear. Save your blood from the horrors of their fangs. Be wary of solitude, and be wary of the crowd.”

It was a day not unlike any other. My morning kicked off lazily, with me waking up almost an hour later than a college freshman was supposed to. Nothing unusual there. I did my usual morning prep, took a cup of grandma’s tea in one gulp, and went my way. I was already late for the train—I had to run after a departing bus with an exceptional speed that would put Olympiads to shame. I got in the room just in time as the bell rang for first period. I came in huffing like an old man, but it’s alright. Way better than walking through the early jam-packed hallways.

The first aberration in my daily humdrum existence happened on my way to fourth period. A student from another department stopped me on my tracks. I knew him; he was a member of the student council. Was I in some sort of trouble?

He introduced himself as Han Jisung, then proceeded to ask if I have seen his friend.

“He’s tall,” Jisung explained. “But like, not super tall. Not the towering-over-people kind. He has a mole under his eye. He’s got black—no wait, I think he dyed his hair again the other day. Anyway, have you seen someone like him? He’s noticeably handsome. I guess. I’m more handsome, though, but you know what I mean.”

The whole school would know who he is talking about. The one and only Hwang Hyunjin: champion swimmer, council member, and just a general talk of the town. The Prince. Even if I did see him around, though, I wouldn’t know. I never pay attention to the people I walk by.

I shook my head and muttered a soft sorry. I did feel bad for Jisung. He looked so worried and dejected, and I can’t blame him—not after after the incident with Seungmin. I can’t really take it against him to worry about his friends. I sauntered off to my next class, my mind still stuck on the fact that a normal person in my school has actually talked to me, and I was able to keep my composure.

Fifth period: P.E. I don’t even know why we still have this subject in college. I opted to take a stroll instead. You see, a huge, dense forest is situated right behind the main school grounds. You could say that the school itself lies within the bosom of greeneries. Unkempt bushes and rows of towering trees stretched over several miles deep, starting from the edge of the campus to god-knows-where. It is my goal to scout the whole area before graduation.

Weighed down by my personal monstrous beast, I trudged through. I walked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally reached the spot—my spot. Sheet of decaying leaves cushioned a huge gray boulder, standing at least ten feet tall, shaped like an odd piece of egg smashed against the forest floor. Against it stood a larger stone, this one dotted with moss and weathered with cracks. They were propped against each other for support, as if stopping one another from tumbling to the ground.

There was a smaller rock at the foot of the smaller stone, and I use it as leverage to climb up and sit on top of the largest boulder. It was my favorite place. Most times I could just pretend that I was alone in my own tiny bubble, at the center of that clearing that nobody else ventures but me. I don’t feel the breath of people suffocating me with every step that I take. I don’t feel my heart thumping with the sight of anyone else. I don’t need to hold back. Here, I don’t feel weird.

But today felt somehow different.

It was awfully silent. The wind felt sharper and colder. Electricity was humming in the air, leaving my skin prickling with discomfort. There was a tension in my veins that I couldn’t quite explain—it felt like an omen of an incoming disaster.

Time ticked slow. A couple hours could have passed—or maybe it has only been five minutes—when a nearby rustling perked up my senses.

Trying to keep my movements as quiet as possible, I hopped down and took up a defensive position, which wasn’t easy to do for a student with no actual weapon aside from an almost-empty bag and a worn-out calligraphy pen. My instincts told me to take cover—but my feet seemed glued to the ground. Sweat trickled from my forehead. My hands started to feel clammy.

And then, just as I was about to scamper away, a figure crashed into view from behind the nearest oak tree. I almost threw my bag towards the person’s direction, until I had a clear view of the intruder’s face.

It was Hwang Hyunjin, wide-eyed and disoriented, with his cheeks and uniform smudged with traces of blood.

“Help me.”

His voice came out as a tiny croak, as if his throat was filled with acid. He stumbled towards me, reaching out his hand for support. I wasn’t able to move an inch—and who could blame me? The situation was way too hard to process.

Hwang Hyunjin, the university prince, was hunched huffing before me, his clothes caked with mud and dried blood, his hair a nest of mess on his head. He had a cut on his cheek, I noticed. His breathing was heavy and labored, as if the mere act of standing on his own two feet required all the effort he could muster.

“Help me,” he repeated.

“What happened to you?” I managed to blurt out. My initial thought was that some random outsiders kicked his butt for stealing their girlfriends. But no—someone like Hyunjin would have been able to handle that. Plus, something in his eyes showed an elaborate fear—something only a beast would be capable of instilling. I should know.

My heart began thumping faster, a colossal drum barreling in my chest.

Just as my schoolmate was about to open his mouth and explain, a loud rustling broke the stillness of the air. Before I could process what was happening, Hyunjin grabbed my hand and bolted away, dragging me with him.

“Don’t look back!” he warned.

I did.

At least a dozen feet behind us was another male, probably as old as Hyunjin. He was sporting our school uniform, walking casually under the shades of trees as if time wasn’t of any matter. What puzzled me, though, was the fact that we can’t seem to distance ourselves from him despite the heavy efforts Hyunjin had been exerting to drag us both away from this newcomer.

I took another glance behind me, and to my surprise, the young man wasn’t there anymore. Nowhere behind us, as if he dissipated without a single trace.

Hyunjin took a sudden stop, causing me to bump my head against his back. I was about to call him out for stopping, but then I saw the looming figure a few meters in front of us.

“You…?” I began, my mind a juggle of unanswered questions. How on earth did that happen? How is he—

Hyunjin's friend, Kim Seungmin, stood before us in his dirty school uniform. He looked pale, his eyes bloodshot, but he was standing there in full grace, very much alive, giving us a toothy grin. “You’re hurting my feelings, Hyun. Why are you running away from me?”

Hyunjin’s grip on my hand went tighter. “Seungmin...”

“Friends are supposed to help each other, am I right?” Seungmin continued, faux dismay dripping in his voice. He bared his fangs, its tips dripping with fresh blood. “So help me, Hyunjin.”

I felt my body run cold. I wanted to scream, run, anything—anything to get away from this. From him. From the two of them. From everything. But Hyunjin's hand remained strong around my wrist, and my legs were close to turning jelly. I could start to feel the fullness in my mouth, the pointy ends of my incisors. Something that only happens when I'm in an extreme hunger or danger.

“Stay away from them,” grandma said. “We are the same kind, but we are different. Weaker. They see us as preys, as special commodities. They can smell your blood despite my concoctions, my dear, remember this!”

Seungmin tilted his head to one side, finally regarding my presence. “And you, over there. I’ve never tried drinking such special blood.” He grinned. “Satiate my thirst.”

The last thing I knew, a strong hand was pressing tightly around my neck, turning my vision green.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“Have you heard of the news?”

“What news?”

“Kim Seungmin was safe! They found him in the forest yesterday.”

“Thank goodness! Was he hurt?”

“He had a few gashes, but he’s fine. Hyunjin found him and brought him to the hospital right away.”

Students filled the corridor, everyone bustling and hustling about the news: after his sudden disappearance, Seungmin was finally found by his best friend, Hyunjin. The latter saw him in the forest, hungry and disoriented. They went straight to the hospital to treat his minor wounds, and that was that—nobody bothered to ask how he managed to lose himself in the wilderness, or how we managed to survive seven days on his own. Nobody asked him stupid and unnecessary questions. Seungmin was safe, and that was all that mattered.

I brushed my way past the milling crowd, flinching at every accidental touch. I kept my eyes on the ground, forcing my mind into silence. I was expecting everyone to be in their respective classrooms at this time of the day, but apparently, the news of Seungmin’s return has become enough reason for everyone to wander about and neglect their individual duties. It was a grand miscalculation on my part—I hadn’t braced myself for this huge number of people.

Not here. Not now. Not ever.

I just have to get back home, and then it’ll be over. My insides would stop churning once I’ve drunk grandma’s tea—that has worked for 18 years now. I can stop this. I can stop me.

I made a run towards the comfort room. To my luck, nobody was inside. I washed my face over and over, as if doing so would cleanse me from the impurity stamped on every drop of my blood. The face on the mirror horrified me—I had to stop myself from punching the glass over and over.

The moment I stepped out, I felt his presence.

He was there, leaning against the wall, lurking behind the shadows. There was a faint gleam of terror in his eyes, but at the same time, I can feel it: the hunger. Lust for meat. Thirst for blood.

“Don’t be like him, Hyunjin,” I pleaded. “Don’t be like us.”

He shook his head in resignation. “It’s too late.”

He took a step closer. Another. He kept on walking until he stood right in front of me, too close I can feel him breathe.

Too close I can see the faint traces of blood on his lips.

“I’m still hungry,” he sobbed. “I’m still hungry…”

Fear was apparent in his eyes—fear of what would happen to him, fear of what he had become. “You will be fine,” I offered, taking his hand in mine. “Trust me on this. It will be fine.”

And then I felt it, stronger this time—the hunger he was talking about. The thirst. My stomach growled in protest at the sight of Hyunjin’s pale flesh. I can smell his blood—I can feel its steady rhythm as it flowed through his pulsing veins.

I need to get home. Maybe my grandma could do something about Hyunjin, too. Maybe she could produce a stronger tea, and both of us wouldn’t have to worry about our instincts anymore.

We stood next to each other for a full minute before he broke the silence.

“We need each other to survive,” Hyunjin whispered. “If we drink the blood of our own kind, we can last for a month without feeding on others.” He freed his hand from my hold and gripped my shoulders tightly. “I need you. And you need me, too.”Hyunjin leaned down until we were staring at each other at eye level. He closed the distance between us. I closed my eyes, and for the first time, I allowed my monster to take ove.

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heyhihellowhatsup0 · 4 years ago

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Hooked On Your Feelings - Chapter Two (FWB! Tom Holland x Reader)

SERIES MASTERLIST

Warnings: Some angst, language, eventual smut in future chapters, fluff

Word Count: 5255

Summary: After a bad breakup, making an agreement with your womanizing neighbor, Tom to be friends with added benefits and no strings attached seemed like the perfect idea. Until things become messy, emotions caused your agreement to crumble.

A/N: I am HYPE to post this new chapter! Omg I just love writing this series so much its so fun writing Tom like this lol. Also low key...this chapter has an easter egg to a pervious series of mine and I’m v curious if anyone catches it but probably not because its superrr tiny but either way I hope you guys like this one! Obviously, smut is in this chapter! DM me to be tagged and I cannot wait to hear everyone’s thoughts! (Also .gif is not mine. DM me for credit please, I found on google!) Thank you xx -N

“What happened to that girl you took home the other night from The Lace Rabbit?” Harrison asked as he ordered his lunch before he took a seat at the table with Tom. It was typical for them to meet up during the week on their lunch breaks and catch up when they were not busy being wingmen for the other while bar hopping on the weekends.

Tom shrugged off Harrison’s question as he took a bite of his sandwich, “She got a little clingy so I had Y/N help me get rid of her,” he smiled as he said your name out loud. His friends knew of you as the hot girl who lived next door who bailed him out of sticky situations. Always teasing Tom how he could never actually get you. The irony made it all too funny for him, “How’d it go with that blonde girl?” he asked to change the subject off of him.

He didn’t know if he should bring up the two of you sleeping together with Harrison. Harrison was his best friend and wouldn’t judge but he knew he’d give Tom shit for it. He’d want to know details of your arrangement or how it came about, if you were really that good and Tom didn’t feel comfortable answering that. Not if it was about you. He didn’t want his other friends knowing about you in the way he did. That was personal between you both and he wanted to show you he respected you.

“It didn’t,” Harrison admitted while taking a sip of his water. He let out a chuckle as he felt himself blushing, “Forgot her name and she spilt her drink on me. Can’t say I didn’t deserve that one,” he at least knew when he was in the wrong.

Tom cringed into his sandwich as he let out a cackle, “You definitely deserved it, mate,” he laughed with another bite. His phone vibrated in his pocket but he chose to ignore it, knowing like clock work what it probably was. It was going to ruin the rest of his day and he at least wanted to enjoy lunch with his friend before getting pissed off for the day.

“She’d probably love you,” Harrison teased.

“Fuck off,” Tom rolled his eyes with a laugh. “I’m not taking your angry seconds.”

“Don’t knock angry sex til you try it,” Harrison smirked knowingly.

Tom shook his head as he once again ignored the phone ringing, “I think I’m good, thanks,” he brushed it off with another eyeroll.

He didn’t know why he suddenly felt weird talking about their last venture out at the club. Maybe it was because Tom knew where he ended up after that girl had left and he knew what that meant for the both of you. But Tom wasn’t done with his bachelor days, and even you knew that. Hell, you practically insisted since this was a no strings attached deal.

It just felt strange not telling Harrison about you. Like it was a weird secret. But at the same time, he felt oddly protective of you. Not wanting his friends to see you as some girl he was getting laid with. Or worse, a potential love interest. He knew it wasn’t going to happen. Hell would be freezing over before Tom decided on any sort of long term obligation. But he knew his friends and he knew they wouldn’t see this is a simple agreement between two friends. And he didn’t want to deal with that conversation.

Staying quiet was the better option. For his own sanity. And...well, would you care if he told anyone about this? Tom figured that was another rule he’d have to ask about. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries and he knew you had a list of rules as well that he was happy to follow. As long as that meant one thing and one thing only: non-exclusive.

Harrison noticed Tom’s phone buzzing for the third time. And Tom ignored it for the third time. He checked the message with a huff of his breath before turning the screen face down on the table, going back to his lunch before he had to get back to work.

“Clingy girl?” Harrison nodded towards Tom’s phone.

Tom shook his head, “My mother was supposed to visit this weekend but you know the routine,” he mumbled into his food, not even wanting to respond to her.

“Let me guess,” Harrison began, knowing exactly where this was going since he knew Tom’s whole story inside and out. Including the bits he hated to discuss which was mainly his family, “Going skiing with Clint in Veil instead?” he questioned knowingly.

Tom scoffed out a laugh at his guess, “Surfing with Clint in Malibu but same shit,” he corrected as he tried not to let it get to him. But even Harrison could tell he was getting bothered by it once again and who could honestly blame him.

Always the same story every time no matter what and Tom grew tired of her antics. He couldn’t even blame Clint for it anymore considering she’d been this way since he was a kid before he was even in the picture. Only now she would just use him as the perfect excuse to get out of coming to visit.

He knew he shouldn’t care anymore but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t something easy for him to simply let go of. It was his mother. And no matter how many times he’d try she would always give him back the bare minimum and it always made him upset. She was his one final connection to him and she could care less about any of it, so why did Tom? It always got under his skin and he loathed that it did.

But he would still invite her. No matter how miserable it made him.

“Well at least now you’re free this weekend,” Harrison broke his thought while he gathered their garbage before they headed back to work, “The usual at The Lace Rabbit this Saturday then?” he suggested with a knowing smile to try and get Tom out of his mood.

Grabbing his phone, Tom clutched it tightly as he inhaled sharply. Knowing his change of plans meant doing his normal routine even though he was looking forward to the slight change this weekend, which now just seemed bleak to him

“Yeah,” Tom agreed as he tapped your name on his phone but hesitated when he saw his mother trying to call for a fourth time, “The usual this weekend.”

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Your chest tensed as you got into your car after your extremely long day in the office. Everything around you felt heavy and you couldn’t wait to get home as soon as you could but you found yourself still frozen in your car. Unable to move as the moments from earlier this afternoon invaded your thoughts once again while you tried your best to move in. Even though you knew you were completely grief stricken and didn’t know what the hell to do.

The promotion was yours, at least you had thought it was by the way your boss would constantly hint at it. You knew it was never a definite thing, but you were confident in the hard work you had put into your job and knew you were a top contender for the spot. You worked longer hours, took on extra tasks, you even worked on the occasional weekend to get your work done. Taking every precaution necessary to prove that you were the best fit for the role.

Everything felt like it was lining up for you. Co-workers were giving you a pat on the back for your work accomplishments, your boss was taking note of everything you were doing, and you overall felt really good about where you stood for the potential position. So imagine your surprise when you attended the big luncheon and your boss announced his undeserving son was getting the spot instead of you.

It was both nepotism and misogyny rolled into one and it made your stomach turn the longer you had thought about it. None of it made any sense and it was far from fair. You knew you were the one more deserving of the position, the whole office knew it. Even your damn boss knew but he chose his damn son over you and it felt like a stab right to your gut.

You felt so betrayed and beside yourself as you finally decided to head home. Tears streamed down your cheeks while you tried to focus on the road but you just couldn’t ignore the facts. How were you going to be able to show up and take orders now from your boss’ son? You knew the job more than he did and it felt like a huge screw you.

On your drive home, you tried to make yourself feel better by putting on some music to distract yourself but nothing helped. You felt beyond defeated and frustrated right now you didn’t know what was going to make you feel better at the moment. It felt like the world was against you. Between finding Justin with another woman and your job, you were really batting one thousand lately and you weren’t sure when you would catch a break.

Things were not going how you planned at all. The thought of just quitting your job and starting all over again crossed your mind but the fear of the unknown kept haunting you. You didn’t know which direction to go in or who to turn to for advice anymore. You were slowly drowning and you needed someone to throw you a goddamn life jacket already.

You were relieved to finally be home. Maybe some peace and quiet would make you feel a little better, you thought to yourself while you kicked your shoes off and turned some music on for yourself. Trying to put the day behind you and focus on the present moment while you got changed into more comfortable clothes to unwind.

You jumped out of your skin when you heard a knock at your door, not expecting anybody to come by right now. Pulling your hair up into a bun, you headed back towards the door and looked through the peephole. To your surprise, you weren’t really surprised at all. You were actually sort of relieved when you opened the door and saw Tom standing there holding a pizza box.

“That better have extra cheese,” you asked with a narrowed expression while you invited him inside with the pizza that he would always bring you even in normal times.

Placing the box on the kitchen table, Tom opened it with a grin as he showed you the pizza pie with cheese practically oozing from the crusts, “Figured it was an extra toppings sort of day,” he admitted, knowing he really needed the escape from reality. Even if it was just a pizza.

“Tell me about it,” you sighed as you grabbed a piece closest to you as Tom handed you a paper plate. You headed over towards your refrigerator to grab you both a few beers while Tom leaned up against your kitchen counter as he devoured his slice, “I’m guessing you had a bad day judging by your pizza presentation?” knowing there wasn’t really any particular reason he’d be coming over with it today. Unless if he wanted something?

You slowed your pace back from the fridge wondering if he was going to pick up on how you were feeling. You weren’t entirely sure if you wanted him to notice. Whenever you and Tom had a pizza night it was merely to gossip about your lunatic neighbors or watch a game together. You talked about casual things but never really gone into depth or prying into each other’s lives. Why did it feel like suddenly you wanted something different? Would sex change that much in your friendship?

“We can just ignore that...we don’t have to talk about unimportant stuff,” you waved it off. Tom didn’t need to hear about your miserable day. And you didn’t want to pry into his.

He swallowed the last bite of his slice, “If something makes you upset, it’s not unimportant,” he noted. But when he noticed you just looking at him, he raised his hands in surrender. “Ignore my philosophical ass. But I’d like to hear about your day, you know,” he laughed it off.

What the hell was he doing? He thought to himself. Don’t let personal shit ruin this. Enjoy her company. That’s it.

“I didn’t get the promotion,” you told him. You had mentioned to Tom a while ago that your boss was hinting at it but you never went into detail with him about it. You weren’t used to Tom actually wanting to be open or the other way around. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly surprised Tom even gave a crap about stuff like this.

Tom frowned at your answer and he felt his heart sink a bit when you told him the truth about your bad day. He didn’t know much about your job but he was sure you were a hard worker. He saw how much you loved your job and how passionate you were about it when it would come up. You would share upcoming projects with him from time to time and he would see the look on your face whenever you explained them to him. So hearing that you were passed by for a promotion was upsetting to him.

“I...shit, Y/N,” he put his pizza down as he walked over towards to give you a hug. Sliding his hands around your waist he pulled you into him as he felt you relax against his chest, “You didn’t deserve that,” he added softly.

You allowed Tom to embrace you, his warmness comforting you a bit before you pulled away and started crying when telling him about your boss’ son getting the job instead of you. Making you laugh by calling him every name in the book, you and Tom finally found a common ground as you kept venting to him.

Tom pulled away slowly, his hand resting at your chin while he licked his lips, “You’re boss sounds like a fucking prick, I hope you know that,” he told you reassuringly. The small smile you formed when he spoke made him want to keep making you feel better, “I’m glad you’re smiling,” he blushed at his confession.

Stretching your mouth wider, you flashed Tom a playful yet overly wide grin to deflect the attention he gave to you. The two of you laughed as Tom pulled away with a loud chuckle, shaking his head at your sudden silliness, “That has to be the most hideous smile. But we’ll work on it,” he told you through his laughter.

You rolled your eyes before going back to your pizza, giving Tom a look as you nudged him, “Not gonna tell me about what happened to you?” you finally asked.

Tom tensed as he tried to brush it off with a simple shrug into his pizza. The thought of his mother’s texts and ridiculous apologies and excuses continued to drive him crazy as he mumbled into his bite, “It’s stupid shit,” he told you as he swallowed the crust he was chewing, “Mom stuff, not important,” he added bluntly.

You could see the look on his face and could tell it was important to him but you didn’t want to force him to talk about it. Tom was never one to bring up his family ever to you and that was the first time you had ever heard him even mention his mother. He never spoke of his father, at least to you, so you just assumed both were out of his life for whatever reason and it was none of your business to ask.

And Tom refused to admit it but he wanted you to ask about him. Spending hours upon hours at bars, turning his focus always onto the girl; because he knew no girl would ever want to go home with a self righteous, egotistical guy. It was never something Tom minded to do, especially with complete strangers who he would never open up to in a million years. It might have been the recent development he had with you but there was something refreshing he felt around you and as much as it freaked him out, he didn’t seem to mind.

But diving into his mommy issues with you now seemed too much to deal with right now. You were dealing with more than enough problems with your job and your miserable ex-boyfriend, he figured you didn’t need to hear his bitching right now anyway. He came here to get away from those shitty thoughts, not open those wounds further.

Tom came here for a distraction.

Licking his lips, Tom perked up as he looked at you fervidly, “Wanna have sex?” he asked matter of factly. He figured he didn’t need to beat around the bush since you had your arrangement but maybe he was a bit too direct with his request. Tom cleared his throat as he tried to save the night, “I-I mean, I just figured since we both had shitty days that maybe we could uhm-”

“Thought you’d never ask,” you cut him off with a smirk and you perked up as well, nodding as you smoothed out your hair. Standing back up as you turned your back towards him, removing your shirt in the process, “Let’s go,” you called over your shoulder as you headed towards your room.

“Oh, we’re jumping right in,” Tom mumbled to himself as he practically fell off his chair to follow you into your room, tossing his shirt beside yours as he practically froze already seeing you completely undressed, “Christ…” he breathed out while taking you in.

You rolled your eyes as you walked over to him, bringing your lips to his now bare shoulder, “You’re really acting like you haven’t seen me like this the other day?” You laughed against his skin while you began to suck a bruise against him, hearing him let out a gasp while your hand snaked into his pants sneakily, “Beginning to really like this whole friends with benefits thing we have,” you laughed as you found Tom’s lips.

Practically growling into your kiss, Tom lifted you up and lowered you onto your back on your bed. His lips traveled from yours, to your stomach, dipping his tongue into your belly button as you moaned quietly before he brought himself down between your thighs. His lips peppering your inner thigh before he got straight to the point because this whole arrangement meant no foreplay. Another plus for Tom.

“Darling, I think you may be the best friend I’ve ever had,” Tom breathed out a laugh as he pressed his tongue flatly against your clit. Sliding two of his fingers into your core while he slowly pumped in and out of you, “This is what got me through my day today,” he told you before he brought his mouth back to your core.

You arched your back while your fingers went towards Tom’s curls. His name began to fall from your lips while he lapped his tongue carefully, letting it slip inside of you as he continued to tease you with his mouth. His fingers sliding into you again, adding a third as he moaned against your center; allowing the vibrations to roll throughout your entire body.

“Mmm, oh, fuck...!” you cried out, yanking gently against Tom’s hair as you felt the coil beginning to burn from inside of you. Biting your lip to stifle another moan, “Fuck...yo-you’re really good at that,” you breathed out with a small laugh which turned into a whimper.

With his head peering up at you, Tom flashed you a cocky smile with a playful wink as he licked your folds teasingly, “Did you seriously doubt my abilities to make you cum with my mouth, Y/N?” he raised his eyebrow while pumping his fingers now tantalizingly slow, “You’re gonna pay for that comment,” he said to you.

“Just...shut up and make me cum, Tom,” you told him through another gasp as you felt his teeth drag teasingly against your already throbbing bud. His lips wrapped around it as he sucked more harshly, doing exactly as you had asked him to do, “Ungh...oh god, okay. Yeah, keep doing that,” you instructed as you began to grind your hips against his mouth.

Tom took it as a challenge and picked up his pace, beginning to flick your clit faster while he continuously sucked on it. His three fingers now entirely coated in your warmth as he felt you clenching around them. His pants feeling tighter from his hard on while he knelt at the end of your bed trying to bring you to where he wanted.

His free hand splayed against your stomach, holding you in place while he felt you trying to squirm around from the way he was making you feel. Rubbing your clit in between his breaths, Tom looked up at you as he licked a solid stripe down your center, “Let out how you’re feeling from today and cum for me, Y/N,” Tom commanded.

Your eyes shut as you did exactly what Tom had suggested. Completely coming undone from beneath him while you released as much of the tension from earlier as you possibly could but in the most amazing way. Your eyes rolled back into your head while your back arched as Tom’s tongue continued to work you up while you were at your highest point.

Letting out a breathy laugh as you started to come down from it, feeling Tom begin to kiss his way back up your stomach with a smug look, “Don’t give me that look,” you rolled your eyes at his cockiness as his tongue traced along your neck, “I could do what you just did to myself, you know,” you tried to knock him off his high horse a bit while he pretended to be wounded from your words.

“Ah, but you didn’t. Did you?” Tom reminded you as his lips found yours. His hands still in between your thighs as he brought them between you both, showing you his coated fingers while he tasted you off of them, “Tastes like I made you cum because you wanted me to,” his smugness only elevated as he pushed himself off of you as he laid on his back on your bed.

“Need I remind you that you came to my place like a porno with a pizza looking to get laid,” you retaliated as you shifted so you were now hovering over him. Your hands guiding towards his belt buckle to get him out of his restraintive pants. The pleading look on his face made you just as smug, “Sounds like you want me to do just about the same thing, am I right or am I right?” you sang in his ear.

Tom helped you get the rest of his pants and boxers off, feeling himself spring out as he stared back at you with uncertainty, “Did you...just call me a porn star?” he questioned as the two of you let out a laugh.

“You wish, Tommy,” you teased as you ran your tongue down his abs, placing small and open kisses against his stomach as you made your way down to his legs while your hand carefully gripped his hardened length, your thumb running the pre-cum around his tip while you already heard him gasping for you.

Gripping your bedsheets with one hand, Tom reached around to create a makeshift ponytail to hold your hair. Cussing under his breath as he watched your mouth wrap around his tip, swirling your tongue around it while your eyes searched for his. He was really trying to hold it together but you were already driving him crazy.

“Let’s see what you got, Y/N,” Tom challenged you with a heavy breath as he tightened his grip around your hair, “Sometimes, girls think they know exactly what to do but-OH FUCK!”

His words were lost as soon as your mouth went straight down to his base. Suctioning as hard as you could before coming back up his cock painfully slow. Moaning your name as his chest began to heave, Tom felt his thighs start to quiver from under you. Even just watching the way you were working on him was enough to make him whimper right now.

“Fuck...okay, yeah I take that back,” Tom gasped as his nose crinkled up while his other hand white knuckled the sheets, “God, your mouth is fucking perfect. Why haven’t we done any of this shit before?” he was in such a fucked out haze, he wasn’t even sure if anything he was saying made any sense at all. But he felt his stress from earlier going away finally. Even if this was just a short state of bliss, he was grateful for it anyway.

“You really want me to answer that or would you just prefer me to keep sucking your dick?” you sassed while you kitten licked his tip. You watched from the end of the bed as Tom bucked his hips into your mouth to try and get more contact from your lips but you pulled away from him and just kept licking his tip.

God, you were good, Tom thought to himself.

‘K-keep going,” Tom finally breathed out, flinging his head against the pillow to brace for the impact.

Hollowing your cheeks, you pushed yourself all the way down his cock. Your tongue flicking the base in between as you began to feel him throb inside of your mouth. You could tell he was close so you moaned softly into his cock, watching as Tom shuddered from the sensation you just sent through him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Tom cried out, moaning your name as he rutted his hips into your mouth. His pupils blacked as he felt the heat rising in his body, “Shit...I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” he warned as you pulled away, running your hand down his shaft as he began to come undone for you.

His warmth spilled out into your hand and down his cock while he let go finally. The stress somewhat leaving his body as it did yours while the euphoric high peaked for him. Your lips crashed against his while his tongue parted your lips to find yours, tangling them together as he moaned against your mouth while riding out his high finally.

You waited for Tom to catch his breath before you smiled against his lips, placing a small peck against them as you pulled away with an even bigger grin, “Yeah, you’re welcome,” you gave him the same arrogant tone he gave to you moments earlier before you pecked his lips again.

After taking some time to get yourselves together mixed with the continuous fooling around underneath the sheets, you and Tom finally decided to get up and end the night. Even though he didn’t want to leave, he knew he probably shouldn’t overstay. Primarily, Tom was adamant about never spending the night at a girl’s place that he slept with. That made things complicated and he didn’t want complicated. But since you and him had rules to not make things messy, he wasn’t sure if that applied to you. For now, he wanted to play it safe so he got himself dressed again.

You pulled on an oversized t-shirt, realizing both of your hair looked a mess. Luckily you were already home and Tom was down the hall so it didn’t really matter. You wanted to say something to Tom, that you were thankful he came by tonight. You were thankful even before sex was on the table. It felt nice to have him as an ally to swing by with a pizza when he didn’t even know you needed that.

“...is it weird to say I’m glad you came by?” you gestured towards your bedroom while you walked with him out into the kitchen where the half eaten pizza was left, “I know we haven’t really made too many rules about it but…” you trailed off with a nervous laugh as you smiled at him awkwardly.

“Like we said, zero weirdness,” Tom reminded you as he padded his way over to you. He grabbed a leftover crust from the box and shoved it in his mouth, clearly starving already from the workout you had just given him. He smiled while he chewed lazily, his mouth still filled with pizza crumbs, “But I’m happy to come by when we have shit days...and make you cum as well,” he smirked deviously.

The door opened as you smiled back, “Doesn’t have to be just bad days, you know. We could...screw whenever we feel like it,” you told him, hoping that it wasn’t too much.

“Did you just say screw?” he whipped his head towards you with a loud laugh.

“Alright then, I guess I’ll just leave you to the girls who leave you unsatisfied then,” you fought back.

Tom leaned against the door with his mouth gaped open, “They do not...leave me...unsatisfied?” he questioned himself, knowing that that was true, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“Then why are you here?” you placed a hand on your hip, feeling the smile pulling at your lips while you messed around with him. You certainly weren’t in this mood earlier before Tom came around.

Pressing his lips together, Tom rolled his eye at you, “Fine...we can screw...whenever,” he leaned in closer to you with his eyes big as he mimicked your voice when you said it, “As long as we keep this thing strictly what we intended, you can use me whenever you need, Y/N,” and he meant it.

You didn’t back away when he sealed his words with a soft kiss, paired with his trademark grin. Tom pulled away slowly, taking in the moment as he wished you a goodnight quietly before kissing you against the cheek, “Like I said, best friend I ever had,” he said softly once again.

“Am I interrupting something?” A voice broke from behind the two of you. Both of your eyes widened towards each other as you both simultaneously pivoted your heads towards the staircase where the voice was coming from.

Tom closed his eyes with a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to ignore Harrison staring at the two of you with a crooked grin. Making it known to Tom that explaining this was going to be a lot tougher than he had imagined.

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#tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #heyhihellowhatsup0

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ghost-oftheriver · 3 years ago

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Parent Guidance Recommended

word count: 3,281

focus characters: Pacifica Northwest, Fiddleford H. McGucket

warnings: child neglect, implications of alcoholism, implications of infidelity, mugging, knives, threatening, generally awful people

summary: On the worst birthday she’s ever had, Pacifica finds herself seeking support from a source she’d least expect; the new owner of the once-Northwest Manor, her own former home.

Pacifica was turning fourteen on the Fourth of July. A perfect birthday. Perfect girl. Perfect family.

Her parents would throw a party. Like any Northwest party, with gorgeous, itchy lace ball gowns and impeccable etiquette, each word in every conversation spoken with flawless flow, with purposeful posture and respect-demanding mannerisms. A perfect party for perfect people, with perfect food prepared.

After claiming her designated ruby-studded chair at the dinner table, she would be shocked when her plate was revealed to her. Deep-fried Roareos. Stacked in a small sweet-powdered delicious heap in front of her, chocolately, cream-filled cookies, dipped in batter and deep-fried to perfection. Sugary. Messy. Pacifica had never had it before. How did her parents know she wanted to try it?

She turned her head to cast a quizzical look to her parents, who’d been watching her, holding each other with loving smiles directed at her. A warm feeling spread inside her like warm butter. She reached for a fork.. but hesitated, and hovered her hand over the plate instead. She casted another glance at her parents to see their reaction. No cold response was elicited so far. In fact, she could have sworn her father nodded in approval.

She delicately picked one of the cookies up with her thumb and forefinger, and raised it to her lips to nibble at it. Her senses were flooded with warm, sweet goodness. Just as amazing as she imagined. She stuffed the rest in her mouth, going so far as to lick her fingers. Her lips were coated with melted cream. She neglected the napkins beside her plate to instead lick the sugar mixture from her lips. Barbaric. But her parents didn’t seem to mind either of the actions. She thought she even heard an amused giggle from her mother.

“Sweetie, would you like your presents now or after you’re finished?” Priscilla— no, this was Mom— asked. Pacifica paused. She had a say? Were they not on a schedule? She supposed if she was given the option, she would love to open gifts while she snacked on the rest of the Roareos.

“Now, please,” the young blond girl responded. On cue, one of the butlers was beside her, placing a neatly-packaged gift box on her lap. A beautiful purple silk ribbon sat on top, holding it together. She couldn’t recall the last time she felt so eager to reveal its contents.

What was inside? Some comfy clothes? Paint, perhaps? A cute animal plush that would contrast the creepy porcelain dolls in her room? The possibilities were endless.

Delightfully, she tugged at it. The box opened. As she peered inside, her excitement dissolved. The warm feeling turned to ice.

The bell. The one her father carried on his person at all times. The one that willed his command in the mansion. The one Pacifica hated. Suddenly Preston was standing over her, slowly picking the bronze item up.

Loving smile gone, replaced with a disapproving, even disgusted scowl. She shrank in her seat.

“Pacifica Elise Northwest,” he boomed. “So it’s true. You’re mingling with the common, ignoble crowds these days.”

“No!” she found herself crying out. “It’s not like that! I have to!”

“Have to what? Work a lowly job as a waitress in that slobbish cesspit? At that- that disgusting, sorry excuse for a dining destination? THAT’S NOT ACCEPTABLE EVER. How can you call yourself a Northwest? How can you call yourself our daughter?”

The very first thought she woke up to was that it was too good to be real.

Tangled in her sheets, warm tears trickling down her cheeks. She sniffled and quickly wiped them away before slipping out of bed.

The house was dark. Silent. The clock on the wall read 7:52. Her parents’ bedroom was empty as she passed. It smelled of wine. They would not be back for a while. Pacifica found herself releasing a sigh, her tension easing a little, even if that meant she’d be spending her birthday alone for the very first time. She leaned against the doorframe and closed her eyes, trying to recall the good part of the dream, trying to revive the taste of the sugary treat, but it was gone. Soured by the unreality of it. All it was doing was making her hungry belly ache.

When checking the refrigerator, cabinets and pantry and coming to the realization that all that was left was a loaf of bread, a half-empty tube of Bringles and a couple dinner kits. No breakfast food. Not even a single egg. Not even leftovers. Something like despair and disappointment blossomed inside her. She would have to eat at the diner again…

She snagged her wallet from the counter only to find her twenty had disappeared, leaving only a couple measly ones and fives and whatever coins were loose inside. She felt the tears building a little again and slapped the wallet shut to try to stifle them. There was a time she had nearly everything, but now after Weirdmaggedon, she couldn’t even trust that her own hard-earned cash wouldn’t be snagged if left around her own greedy birthgivers. Her strength was being sapped by the will not to burst into a sobbing fit. There was enough in there to cover breakfast at work when she got to Greasy’s, at least.

With her belly still growling, she changed out of her nightwear, threw on her apron and a pair of aviators and began the walk to work.

The day was a bright one, sunny and a little breezy. A pleasant temperature. It did not reflect how Pacifica felt. Despite the summer weather, she pulled her scarf over her head, casting shade over her face. The neighborhood streets were mostly void of people, every house gated off. Just because they lost the mansion did not mean the Northwests were living in squalor, but her spending money was strictly monitored. Her parents now enforced that any money she spent, she’d have to earn. A fourteen year old. A child. Just so her birthgivers could ensure a few extra dollars in their account.

Pacifica couldn’t help but feel the fanciness of the neighborhood was almost deceitful. Her own household was a prime example. Her own rumbling tummy was a prime example. She wondered if there were others who lived in these houses that had similar problems as hers. Unlikely here.. however there were definitely others, people who’d been pushed to extremes just to get by.

Whether that was the reason behind why Pacifica soon found herself being followed halfway through the trip, she didn’t know. The feeling of being watched intensified by the minute, and glances into the reflections of shop windows told her there was a person. They refused to let up for at least a couple of blocks, the likelihood that they were just going the same direction by chance was steadily decreasing. They probably saw her leaving the wealthier neighborhood. The young girl picked up her pace. It did her no good.

The next moments were a blur. Her arm was snatched. When she struggled, a slice put a stop to it. Her arm began to bleed. Something sharp pressed to her throat, stiffening every muscle in her body. Vulgar language was hurled at her, demanding cooperation before her purse was yanked from her shoulder, and she was thrown to the curb. She was left winded, bruised, panicked and hyperventilating. She struggled for her breath back.

Mugged. She’d been mugged for the few measly dollars she had on her. And the fact that her first thought after all that was concern for what her parents would think that she let those precious dollars be nicked in the first place.. it only increased her distraught. Her breaths hastened more and more, and she didn’t realize her tears had finally started to flow until she was already sprinting down the street, her vision muddled. Every step felt like thunder to her ears. Home. She just wanted to go home. Maybe she couldn’t be herself as much, and maybe she was always busy, under constant supervision. But at least there was stability. At least there was certainty of the future. At least it was comfortable, at least there was always food on the table, breakfast, lunch and dinner. At least her father never stumbled around reeking of alcohol while only Lord knew where her mother was. Maybe her parents weren’t the best to other people but at least she could be certain they were true to each other. At least she could pretend everything was fine.

Pacifica wasn’t sure how far she’d gone. She was sweaty, she felt gross and sticky. Her legs were sore, threatening to give out if she went any further. She was still bleeding. She ached everywhere. But she’d reached her destination. She stood at the bottom of a familiar, long driveway, and at the top, sitting on a large hill, towering over the town stood the proud family mansion. Waves of nostalgia and sorrow crashed over her. Everything felt so gross. Every memory tainted by the knowledge of her parents’ true nature. She couldn’t even speak to anyone, not even her parents. Who would listen to a rich brat whine about how she used to be richer? Certainly not any of the townsfolk.

She found herself staring at the manor for a while, not entirely sure what to do.

“...What am I doing here…?” Pacifica whispered, sniffling and reaching for the tissues she kept in her purse, only to be hit with the whirlwind of events that had just happened again. Her arm stung. She could barely hold herself upright. She felt so… so tired. She meekly wiped her nose on her sleeve, and started to turn around when suddenly she bumped into someone.

“Wo-ah there, kiddo, careful, better watch where ya—” a cheerful voice piped, before cutting itself off when the sight of Pacifica in her disheveled state registered. “Huh? Hey.. Ah’ know you.”

Color drained from Pacifica’s cheeks. This guy again.. Why was he here? She quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks as she tried a witty remark, but — “Y-y-ea-h, well-, wh-o w-ou-uldn’-t-” — ultimately failing when her quivering body wouldn’t stop heaving sobs. Again she sniffled. Disgusting. In front of the hillbilly too.

McGucket’s face morphed into something like sympathy. He kneeled down to her height. “Ah- hey, what’s goin’ on kiddo? Are ya alright?”

Pacifica parted her lips. She wanted to say yes. Her instincts screamed at her to say yes. She could practically hear her birthgivers demanding her to say yes. She had to be perfect. She had to be flawless. She had to be stoic, proud, happy, for her family.

But that’s not what came out.

“n-NO!” she cried, her knees finally buckling as if the years of abuse weighing down on her shoulders finally came crashing down on top of her. Her face buried in her hands, sobbing violently into them. She wasn’t okay, she wasn’t okay, she wasn’t okay. Wails and cries escaped. She couldn’t stop the tears anymore. She was in so much pain, she was so alone. The sobs wouldn’t stop. The raging storm of emotion only continued to demolish her walls, clawing at her pride and self esteem. Everything she pretended to be crashed and burned at that moment.

Fiddleford had been a little stunned by the sudden breakdown, but he started to piece the situation together from the bits and pieces the poor girl was babbling. He didn’t get up and walk away like Pacifica was expecting him to. He stayed put, even placed his hand on her shoulder to try to console her. When she didn’t flinch away from him, the old man started rubbing circles on her back as she cried and cried. Fiddleford never was the best at comfort.. though he could only imagine how long this outburst had been bottled up, and he thought it best that Pacifica let it all out before trying to say anything.

It was a while before Pacifica’s sobs began to calm enough to allow her to speak in more coherent sentences. The story became clearer. She spoke about how her parents had mistreated her, like she was an accessory rather than a human being, a literal child. How things had been getting worse this past year since they were forced to move due to her father’s irresponsible stock market decisions during Weirdmaggedon, to preserve what fortune they had left. How she felt more at home at the diner than she ever did at her own residence. How she hardly saw her parents anymore. How everything had changed for the worst. The way her parents had become about money, even how they scolded her for ‘nagging’ about her birthday the previous day, when it had been the first time she brought it up in half a year. It all hurt terribly to speak of but Pacifica couldn’t help but notice the sudden weightless feeling after getting everything out. She was surprised to find Old Man McGucket was still listening.

“Y’know,” he spoke finally, “Ah knew a fella once who thought ‘e had everythin’ before ‘e lost it all too. ‘Should’a been there for ‘im like he needed.”

Pacifica was quiet for a moment. “..W..ho was he?”

Fiddleford only waved his hand. “Ol’ college buddy. Doin’ mighty fine these days. Now whaddya say we get off’a the street an’ patch up that lil’ ol’ scratch a’ yours inside?”

It tooka moment to register the question through his southern accent, but when she did, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “..I- inside..?”

Inside the mansion. Pacifica almost couldn’t believe it. Old Man McGucket was the one that bought the Northwest Manor. She wondered how on earth a former homeless man was possibly able to afford such a grand purchase, until peeks into a couple rooms along the hallway that had been filled with computers and strange machinery told her she didn’t know nearly as much about McGucket as she previously thought.

It was so strange walking through the hallways again. Everything was the same, but different. Was the grand rustic architecture and furniture always so beautiful? And… were those.. raccoons she was spotting out of the corner of her eyes?

McGucket led her to a room with a couch- a familiar silver-themed room with a certain carpet pattern. It looked nearly the same, except for the banjo leaning against the couch’s armrest, and maybe a few more stains than its previous flawless condition “for guests- that is, for guests to look at”. Despite her emotional state, she found herself smiling at the memory of her adventures with Dipper Pines, trying to bust that ghost… until she recalled the punishment her parents had made for her after that was all over. She began to feel a little sick. Her gaze dropped to the floor as McGucket trudged into the room, plopped onto the couch and patted the cushions beside him. Hesitantly, she followed him and did as gestured. It was.. weird to be back. She wiped her eyes again.

“How’d that’a happen?”

“..What?” the question hit her like a slap.

“The cut.” He gestured to the bleeding injury with a bandaged hand.

“...Oh.” Again, her gaze dropped. Her eyes began to mist again before she shut them. “..I-I.. I was.. um.. mugged on the way here… They stole my favorite purse…” Shame burned at her belly. She didn’t see any sign of judgement in McGucket’s reaction, though. He didn’t ask why she let that happen, or why she wasn’t responsible enough to bring someone with her. There was only concern for her.

“Oh.. ‘Ahm sorry that’a happened. Gravity Falls’s usually safe.. er- ah..” The old man scratched the back of his head. “‘least, it’s not the people ya gotta usually worry ‘bout.”

“Heh.. yeah..” Shrugging, the old man pulled out a full-blown first aid kid, temporarily baffling Pacifica for a moment. “Wai- were you just carrying that—?”

The question went without a response as McGucket went straight to disinfecting the cut. “‘Doesn’t look terri-bubly deep,” he piped. “Should’a stopped bleeding by now but we’ll patch it up ta’ keep it safe while it’s a-healin’.”

“Wait.. how do you know how to do this..?” Pacifica asked, furrowing her eyebrows a little. The old man gave her a cheery grin.

“Well, ‘gotta pick up somethin’ ‘bout it after livin’ in the dump buildin’ evil whatsits and thingamajigs outta rusty metal for a couple’a decades.”

..Oh. Well, that would make sense, she supposed.. Briefly, the question as to why he was being so nice to her after the way she and her family treated him crossed her mind. She wondered if that friend he mentioned had something to do with it… Suddenly she found herself wishing she’d paid closer attention to the details of the relationships between the other people involved in the zodiac. She guessed it could be that hotter Mr. Pines (or.. Dr. Pines?), she recalled seeing some kind of emotional exchange between him and McGucket during Weirdmaggedon.

Occupied with her thoughts, she hardly realized McGucket had completely finished with the bandage until he announced it.

“Done!” he cheered, stuffing the first aid kit back into the oblivion from which it came. Weird. More Gravity Falls weirdness. “...Thanks.”

“Anytime, sweetie. Y’always got’a listenin’ ear right here if ya’ need it.”

Pacifica gave him a small, grateful smile. The old man would never know what that meant to her.

“I.. I don’t know..” she sighed softly. “Today was just… awful… It’s the first birthday I’ll be spending alone, and I guess it’s… getting to me…”

“Yer birthday’s today?? Ah, Ah’m sorry, sugerbun,” McGucket spoke. “Awful break, goin’ through somethin’ like a’this on’a birthday mornin’. Say, ya always got a place right ‘ere if ya need. Plenty a’ empty bedrooms.”

Pacifica raised her head. “...R...Really..?”

McGucket beamed. “Why sure! Ya remind me a’ my lil’ Tator Tot, Ah’ miss ‘em somethin’ terrible. It gets a lil’ lonely in this ‘ere big ol’ mansion sometimes and ah wouldn’t mind a visit from some young folk from a’time ta’ time.”

She could… she could visit. Whenever she wanted? Her old home, without her parents around. McGucket was that okay with her? Even going so far as to compare her to (presumably) his own kid? That was… incredible. Before thinking it through, she threw her arms around the old man, chorusing her ‘thank you’s with a bubble of laughter. Though startled, Fiddleford slowly returned the hug with a warm smile.

He stank quite a bit. Pacifica recoiled a little at the realization of what she was doing. Ew. What would people think of her if they caught her doing something so unthinkable? Willingly embracing this stinky old man who…. gave incredible hugs.. Her concern suddenly dissolved. In its stead, a certain safety appeared, and she melted into it a little more. It was the same feeling she craved in her dreams. Dirt didn’t matter at all anymore. The feeling of a parental embrace shielding her from the unpleasantness of the world was all she could bring herself to care about at that moment. It felt so warm… Before she knew it, she was tearing up again.

“...Thank you, McGucket..”

“Heheh, anytime, sugarbun. Say, since it is yer birthday, whaddya say we hit th’ town an’ find somethin’ ta’ cheer ya up?”

Pacifica wiped her eyes with her palm. What an offer... To think a year ago she would never had even considered walking around with the old kook as a possible option, but.. She found herself looking forward to it. “I… I would love that.”

[Part 1 of ??? possibly 2??]

#this totally isn’t a vent piece for the nightmares i keep waking up from skdhkdbd #i’ll prolly write the second part. soon #my writing #gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls fic #pacifica northwest #gravity falls pacifica #fiddleford mcgucket #gravity falls mcgucket #found family #angst with a happy ending #comfort

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wonder-womans-ex · 4 years ago

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See It In Your Eyes

The sequel to ‘Cause Boy I was Made for You

When Finn O'Hara was eleven years old, he got two things for Christmas: an Iron Man action figure and a telling off. There were probably other things, too, but in ten years (or eleven, or twelve, or even thirty for that matter) he wouldn't be able to remember them.

But the action figure had been the one he'd eyed in the toy store window for the past seven months, and the telling off had been from his Aunt Isla.

"There are two things you must never ask a lady," she had scolded. "Her age, and to see the mark on her wrist. Remember that, Finnegan."

(For the record, he hadn't asked to see her wrist. He had asked her to pass him the stuffing, and he'd said "What's that?" when her sleeve got bunched up around her elbow.) (Not like she cared.)

***

When Logan Tremblay was eleven years old, he nearly broke his jaw. One of the boys on his team tied his shoelaces together after practice and he fell and smashed his face on the locker room bench.

After three and a half hours in the ER, he met his own eyes in the bathroom mirror, cheek swollen comically huge, and thought, don’t let it get to you, even though it already had.

***

When Leo Knut was eleven years old, he got his first job. Sure, it was only a paper route, but to Leo, it was everything. Not only was he making money (real, actual money; his dad couldn’t tell him his Monopoly skills were just pure luck anymore) but he was the first in his family to learn anything interesting. One morning, halfway through his rounds, he flipped to the sports page. The words Local Team Manager Loses Job over Sexuality glared up at him.

At lunchtime, when his parents asked about the news lately, he merely shrugged and took another bite of his taco.

***

When Finn O’Hara was fifteen years old, he fell in love for the first time. Not with a person, no, but no one could deny that he was in love—by the fourth rewatch of Mamma Mia, his mother was resigned to promising him extra dessert if he would please, for the love of God, just sing anything else.

***

When Logan Tremblay was fifteen years old, he and his sister Noelle woke up at five in the morning on April Fool’s to rig their house. Noelle, admittedly, was behind most of it, but Logan came up with five spectacular (if he did say so himself) pranks: baking soda in the cereal and vinegar in the milk, which caused his father’s breakfast to fizz and explode the moment he poured it out; semi-permanent hair dye in his mother’s shampoo (her hair kept the blue tint for almost a month); all the hard-boiled eggs in the fridge swapped out for raw ones and vice versa; glue in his father’s shaving cream; and, just because he felt like it, all the toilet paper in the house hidden in the downstairs freezer. The day was a bright spot in a patch of darkness—it had been only a week before that he had found the tumblr post about anxiety symptoms and thought, maybe…

***

When Leo Knut was fifteen years old, he quit baseball—for good this time. His coach was confused as to why anyone would give up an 84 mph fastball and a glove that could catch any pop fly in favour of the ice, but Leo was sure. Hockey was his destiny. The pitcher’s mound had nothing to offer him, not anymore.

***

When Finn O’Hara was eighteen years old, he met Logan Tremblay. His first thought—though he would not accept it until years later—was, He has very nice lips. I would like to kiss them. His second, mere moments later, was, Wait shit no fuck no dammit shit fuck.

***

When Logan Tremblay was eighteen years old, he began to wonder who his soulmate was. Maybe she would have coffee-brown eyes and a gap between her front teeth, the perfect height for him to rest his chin on top of her head. Maybe she would be taller, with wide hips and sharp elbows and long eyelashes.

He tried to shake his fantasies of fiery red hair and gorgeous grins, because Logan was a hockey player and hockey players weren’t queer.

***

Leo Knut is eighteen years old, and he is being pulled down a dimly lit hallway by Finn O’Hara. His wrist is warm beneath Finn’s grasp, his heart beating a little too fast for his liking.

“Where are we going?” Logan asks from his place at the end of Finn’s other arm, but he gets no answer.

Finally, they reach what Leo assumes is their destination: the…. Well, Leo isn’t sure where they are, actually. Some sort of storage room, he guesses, judging by the net in the corner.

He still has no idea why they’re there.

Logan is looking at Finn expectantly, a curious expression on his face. He looks like he knows what’s happening, and the thought bites at Leo’s heart. Great—he’s the only clueless one here.

Finn takes a deep breath, and then another. “Hi,” he begins, and then stops.

Not sure which of them he should look at, Leo focuses on a spot on the wall between Logan’s and Finn’s heads. He senses one of them watching him. He doesn’t check which it is.

“So,” Finn tries again. “Ugh. I’m bad at this.”

“What exactly is ‘this’?” Logan’s brow, when Leo sneaks a glance at him, is furrowed, only a sliver of green eyes visible beneath his squint.

There’s a thunk as Finn lets his head fall back against the wall. “This is me finally deciding to man up and tell you I’m in love with you.”

Leo’s head turns to look at Logan so fast his neck hurts. He sees Logan blink once, and then twice.

***

Finn meets Logan’s eyes. He can practically feel the electricity crackling between them.

Because Logan knows.

He has to.

He has to know that Finn’s heart nearly beats out of his chest every time Logan smiles. He has to know that sometimes he’ll be talking to someone, anyone—Cap, or Coach Weasley, or the press—and he’ll think about Harvard and he’ll forget how to breathe. Logan is half of Finn’s heart.

But whether or not Logan knows it, the look on his face says he feels the same. Finn feels his lips start to curve into a smile.

And then Leo says, “Why am I here, then?”

There are a hundred ways Finn could answer that question. One of them is ‘Why wouldn’t you be?’ and another is ‘I don’t know.’ He could be passionate. He could be tactful. He could be poetic or blunt or gentle or any of those things.

What he goes with, in the end, is philosophical.

“Who decides it’s wrong?” Finn says to the floor. “Any of it. The feeling. The wanting. The having, even. If it’s real, then how can it be wrong?”

He can’t see Logan’s face, nor Leo’s, but he imagines they must be confused. He goes on, not entirely sure he knows what he’s saying and not entirely sure he cares. “And maybe it’s destiny. And maybe it isn’t. Why does it matter? If it’s real and painful and there for the taking, why bother about whether it’s supposed to be?”

Finally, he looks up. He senses that one of them is going to say something, and whichever it is, he cuts them off.

“Maybe it’s not you. Fuck, maybe it isn’t either of you, and maybe I’m the only one who thinks it should be. But it has to mean something, doesn’t it? Because if it doesn’t… why bother at all?”

And maybe, Finn thinks, I’m going to start crying.

***

Logan, mind still wheeling, is the only one who gets an inkling of what Leo is going to do before he does it. Finn certainly doesn’t, and he’s not quite sure Leo does either.

He grabs Finn by the collar and pulls him up, their faces smashing together, red and gold curls tangling between their foreheads. Logan watches them slowly break apart, far enough away to lock eyes, yet still so close they’re breathing into each other’s mouths. His heart surges—with jealousy, yes, but also with something fiery and sweet. Something akin to excitement, or—dare he say—love.

“Whoa,” he says out loud, not realizing it until Leo and Finn both glance over at him. His cheeks start to colour.

Then Leo places a hand on his shoulder and leans down to kiss him, too. This one is more gentle by far that the previous; a dance rather than a battle. It makes sense—Finn’s always been the brash one, the impulsive one, while Logan is tentative, sturdy—and it seems fitting that Leo is the one to remind them of that.

Logan still doesn’t know what they’re doing there.

Well, he knows what they’re doing, of course. They’re kissing. But he doesn’t know why Finn picked now to haul them halfway across Hogwarts arena and make it happen. Maybe if he really thought about it, something would come to him.

But of course he’s not going to think about it, because Leo is still kissing him.

When one of them finally pulls away—Logan isn’t sure who—Leo reaches one hand up and touches Logan’s lip. They stay there for a long moment, neither of them moving, before calloused fingers carefully skate across his waist. He turns towards Finn.

They surge forward together, meeting in the middle. One of Finn’s hands fists in Logan’s hair, the other slipping under his shirt, as they kiss for the first time in nearly four years.

He can taste salt. One of them is crying; it’s probably him.

When Logan starts to break away, desperate for air, Finn chases his mouth. Within a few seconds, though, he’s pulled back, too. It’s almost simultaneously that they remember there’s another person in the room.

Leo’s lip is between his teeth as he worries at it. He doesn’t speak for a long moment; the silence, before it shatters, if practically tangible. “You two have history,” he says, like it’s a question he already knows the answer to.

“We do,” Finn answers easily. There’s something fierce in his eyes. “But it’s the future that matters.”

Logan wishes Finn would stop sounding like Plato. Or Socrates. Or Aristotle. One of them, anyway. Finn is an American in his 20’s, not a 2000-something-year-old Greek. In any case, mystery is decidedly not Finn’s colour.

Leo shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What do you mean, then?”

“I mean you guys are—you’re practically—” he breaks off. One of his hands moves towards Logan, only stopping when it hovers mere centimetres from his wrist. “May I?”

“I—sure.” Logan’s heart skips a beat when their fingers brush. Leo gently turns his hand so Logan’s palm is up, and it’s not until Leo starts to push his sleeve away that Logan realizes what he’s doing.

But by then it’s too late—those three paw prints he spends so much time agonizing over are on display, no longer private, no longer just for him. For a split second, he considers covering his wrist again and leaving. But he does no such thing.

Because if he can’t trust Finn and Leo, he can’t trust anyone.

Finn’s mouth opens slightly in surprise. “It’s—” he says, and there’s barely any hesitation before he’s pulled his sleeve up, too.

It takes a moment before Finn’s soulmark registers in Logan’s mind. When he does, he starts to smile.

They’re soulmates.

***

Leo feels his jaw clench. He knows he should be happy for them—and he is, really. They’ll smile at each other, and they’ll kiss again, and they’ll go on with their lives as that one couple who are so in love it hurts to look at them.

He turns away when tears start to pool in his eyes. He’ll go back to the locker room; they obviously want to be alone right now. “I’ll just… yeah.”

Just as soon as he takes his first step towards the door, Finn grabs his arm. “Wait,” he says, and Leo stops.

“Logan and I are soulmates,” says Finn, all in one breath, “But there are three prints. Not two. And I know that it’s rare, but Re—but I’ve been told it’s possible. That it’s happened before.”

Leo thinks he knows, but he has to make sure. “Do you mean—do you think we’re—”

“I know you’re only eighteen,” Finn continues. “And I know there’s no way of knowing for a while. But does it matter? Even… even if I’m wrong? I love you—I love both of you—soulmates or not.”

Leo waits for one of the others to say something more. When neither does, he wonders why, and quickly comes to the conclusion that it’s because they’re waiting for him to say something.

“Who told you?” he asks the moment it pops into his head. It’s not the best thing he could say, but it’s not the worst, either.

“Told me what?”

“You said someone told you it was possible to have two soulmates. Who was it?”

There’s a pause as Finn cracks one of his knuckles, deep in thought. “Loops,” he whispers, but not until Leo has decided he’s not going to say anything at all. “I was talking to Loops yesterday, and I told him I thought… anyway, he said I should tell you.”

“You told him we’re soulmates?” Logan’s eyes are wide and fearful. “He knows we’re…?”

“Not you guys, no. Well, Leo, maybe. I just said you were both on the team, that’s all.”

“But you would have had to say something about my age,” Leo concludes, the dots starting to connect in his head. “And I’m the only one who’s not nineteen yet.”

“Yeah.”

Logan swallows, the almost comical gulp audible in the quiet room, and he crosses his arms over his chest. There’s something about the gesture, however, that tells Leo it’s an act of protection, not defiance. “He’s not going to… tell anyone, is he?”

“No. And if he doesn’t, I won’t.”

“What?” Leo thinks he might be missing something.

“He won’t tell anyone we’re… gay.” It’s the first time any of them have said it—that three-letter word that, in their profession, could ruin everything. “Because he has his own secrets. There’s a difference between being ashamed of something and wanting to keep it private.”

Logan’s eyes widen slightly. “You mean… we’re not the only ones?” His voice is incredulous, choked with emotion, and Leo reaches out a hand to him.

“I don’t think we ever were.”

***

Finn feels as though he’s floating. No—this is better than floating. This is dreaming. At any moment, he’s going to wake up staring at the ceiling of his bedroom with Leo asleep just a wall away. A mile away.

It’s like he’s watching, not experiencing, the way Logan’s fingers twine with Leo’s, love overflowing from the gaze they share. He’s imagining the kiss Logan leans forward to plant on his cheek. Leo’s arm wrapping itself around his shoulders is all in his head.

But it isn’t. Without having to speak, the three of them make their way out of the storage room and back into the hall—blond and brunet hand in hand, blond holding redhead so close it seems he’ll never let go. Finn leans into the warm body to his side, and he feels Leo stagger slightly as Logan does, too. They seem as though they would be perfect on the cover of a book, or a movie poster—Three’s Company, his mind provides, and he files it away just in case he ever decides he wants to sell the rights to his life story.

He’s a long way from that, though. After all, it’s been barely half an hour since they started to unravel this knot they’ve spent so long tangling themselves into, and right now all Finn needs to do is try his best to make sure they don’t get tied up again.

The locker room is almost abandoned. Pascal’s packing up the last of his stuff, and he smiles when they enter. Logan, for one, stiffens slightly in fear, but it doesn’t seem like there’s any need to. Indeed, the only thing Pascal says as he does up the zipper of his bag is, “Be good to him,” and none of them knows who he’s talking to, so they all nod.

Finn waits until they have the room to themselves to pull Logan close to him. “It’ll be okay,” he says. “I promise.”

“But if people find out—”

“Then we’ll have to deal with that—all of us will. But you don’t have to be afraid. The team’s family. And family means no one gets lost behind or forgotten.”

Logan nods, chewing his lower lip. It’s obvious when the gravity of Finn’s words clicks in his head—the expression on his face twists into one of confusion. “Wait a second—why does that sound familiar?”

“Because it’s from Lilo and Stitch.”

Swiveling his head towards Leo, Finn stage whispers, “Shhhhh!” This gets a smile out of Logan.

“I knew I’d heard it before somewhere. Shame on you, Finn—plagiarizing the words of an innocent blue alien!” He stops, blinking. “There’s something I never thought I’d say.”

Finn smiles. This is his life now. He thinks he’ll have a lot of fun getting used to it.

***

Skates swishing over the ice, Logan lets the world fall away. He stops thinking about everything—even Finn’s contagious laughter and Leo’s broad grin fade from his mind as he gets closer and closer to the goal.

Almost there, almost there—

He shoots. The puck whizzes past Kasey’s elbow, only barely missing him.

“Nice one, Tremblay!”

Moody is nodding in approval. Logan feels a rush of pride—it’s an easy, everyday drill, something he’s been able to do in his sleep since he was a kid, but praise is always a good thing. When he can’t have a cheering crowd, he might as well have a coach who admires his talents.

“Merci!” he says, beaming, and then, on second thought, adds, “I’d be surprised if it wasn’t!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Finn and Leo bump shoulders. His heart swells—they love each other, and he loves that they love each other. Somehow, he finds it hard to believe it’s only been a day since the storage room and the kissing and—

“Tremblay!” Logan is shocked back out of his thoughts by Coach Weasley’s (albeit slightly amused) shout. “Stop daydreaming and take another shot!”

“Yes, Coach.”

He’s sweating by the time he’s finally allowed to sit down again. He takes a swig of Gatorade, watching Finn try and sneak up behind him.

“Boo!”

“Hi, Fish.”

“Dammit.” Two red eyebrows lift and fall again. “How’d you know I was here?”

“I saw you. You’re not inconspicuous.”

“You don’t just love me so much you could sense me from halfway across the world?”

Logan can’t help it—he glances around furtively, heart pounding, hoping desperately that no one heard Finn’s comment. “Well, that, too,” he adds, once he’s sure everyone else is sufficiently distracted. “But mostly that ginger head of yours just sticks out like a sore thumb. I call you mon rouge for a reason, you know.”

“Fuck you.”

"Peut-être plus tard.”

“In English, please?”

“...Maybe later.”

“But I want to know now.”

(If only he knew.)

Logan feels giddy as he realizes they really do have time for ‘maybe later.’ They have time, and they’ve earned it. After all, it’s been a day. It’s been eight years.

It’s been forever.

***

It’s almost a year later that Leo wakes up in an empty bed. He yawns, stretches, arches his back and hears his joints pop. For a moment, he wonders where his boys—even now, the thought that they really are his boys makes him unbelievably happy—are.

Then he hears the voices from the kitchen. A smile spreads across his face at the exclamation of “Oh, shit!” and he swings his legs over the side of the bed, placing his feet on the floor and preparing for whatever disaster may greet him.

(Honestly, who thought letting Finn and Logan cook was a good idea?)

And true enough, the moment walks into the kitchen he’s greeted by two things: the grinning faces of his boyfriends, and the smell of smoke.

“What’s burning?”

“The bacon.”

“Of course it is.” He reaches over, taking the pan from Finn, and scrutinizes it. “Salvageable,” he declares, “But please never try to make anything other than instant ramen again.”

Logan nods sheepishly. “Sorry,” he says. “We just wanted to make you something special. Y’know, for your birthday.”

Right.

His birthday.

He’d actually forgotten about that.

He’s not sure how—it’s all he’s been able to think about for almost a month now it’s here and he knows all three of them have the same thing on their minds. Sure, he’s excited, but right now, he’s leaning a little more towards terrified. Today’s the day.

But he knows, when he lets a very real grin spread across his face, that they won’t pressure him. They know it’s his choice, and they’ll respect that. He has nothing to worry about except for the fact that the smoke detector is around six seconds away from going off.

“Here,” he instructs Logan, putting the frying pan down on the stove. “Grab the fan from the bathroom—the little portable one—and bring it in here if you don’t want the fire department racing lights-and-fucking-sirens down our street.”

“Oui.”

“Finn… just try not to set anything else on fire.”

The hustle and (incredibly mild, all considering) panic only lasts for a few minutes. Finally, Leo presses a kiss to the top of Logan’s head, ruffling Finn’s hair, and opens the fridge. “Thanks for the breakfast, by the way.”

“Anytime.”

“...Or not.”

They all laugh at this, and when Leo grabs the milk and pours out three glasses, he watches them. He sees Finn pull out Logan’s chair with an exaggerated bow, glancing over and smiling when he and Leo lock eyes.

It’s the classic movie dilemma. Will he, won’t he. Won’t he, will he.

He waits until they’re all seated to bring it up. In the meantime, he rubs his wrist through the long-sleeved shirt he wore to bed yesterday for this very reason. It meant he was warm last night, but at least he gets a choice this morning.

“So.”

Finn and Logan both look up. “Yeah, Peanut?” one of them asks—probably Finn, but Leo’s mind is too far away to give it much thought.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

This time, it’s definitely Logan who responds, shrugging and poking at his bacon before saying, “Do you want to?”

“I think so.”

Here Finn cuts in. “I only have one thing to say, and that’s that whatever’s on your wrist? It doesn’t change anything. You’re mine—you’re ours—no matter what. We don’t have to be soulmates to be in love.”

“I know that. I just… I used to feel like I was missing something, you know? It’s been ages since I did, but at the beginning I felt like this was your relationship, and I was just an extra part of it.”

“I… I didn’t know you felt that way.” Logan’s eyes are earnest, emotional. Leo thinks he might see tears there. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. No, really—I felt that way, sure, but I don’t anymore. I know you guys love me. That’s what matters. I’m just tired of having the ability to tell myself I don’t belong, and this… this is what confirms it either way.

“I want to know. I really do. But I can’t help being afraid of the answer.”

Finn opens his mouth to speak, but Logan beats him to it. “It’s your choice. Whatever you decide to do, we’re here for you. You can do it today, you can do it tomorrow, you can do it in a year, you can do it never. Je t’aime, mon amour. Toujours.”

Time seems to slow down in the instant it takes Leo to reach into the deepest recesses of himself to gather all the courage he can find, take a deep breath, and pull up his left sleeve. His hands are hidden under the table, so neither Logan nor Finn knows what’s happened until Leo’s face spreads into the widest smile he’s ever worn and a choked, happy sob escapes his lips.

He can see in both their eyes the instant they realize—Finn first, Logan following mere instants later—and he rubs a thumb over the golden print. Somehow, he knows that one’s his.

He’s already seen this mark a hundred thousand times, but it feels so much more real there on his skin, blue and golden and green and—

“Yeah.” They know what he means. He wants to shout it out loud, sing it boldly as he walks down the street, because they’re his soulmates, and the only thing that matters more than that is that they’re in love.

thanks to @peggyrose19 for betaing and @lumosinlove for the incredible characters <3

#o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #I made finn and logan that same age because what? even? are? timelines???#soulmates au #they're in love!

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inkjam-moon · 4 years ago

Text

Bells Will Be Ringing - Part Two(M)

Summary: New years is quickly approaching; but with Namjoon still in his heat, should you risk going to the party?

Pairing: Hybrid!Namjoon x Reader x Jimin

Genre: Smut, fluff

Word Count: 11k

TW: swearing; dirty talk; oral (male and female giving and recieving); anal (male and female); fingering; double penetration; mmf; mfm; bottom namjoon; top/dom jimin; vibrators; strap ons; impreg kink?; creampie kink

You should've known it was going to happen like this. With Christmas and New Years being so close together it was bound to happen. You were hopeful, too bad it was in vain. Today is the seventh day of Namjoon's heat. The seventh straight day. It doesn't seem like a lot when you think about it, but when it usually only lasts three to four days maximum, it's a lot.

By the end of the fourth day, neither you nor Jimin could walk. On the fifth day, you both just laid next to Namjoon while he whimpered and whined, thrusting helplessly into the new toy Jimin got him for Christmas, softly caressing and kissing him, occasionally lending a hand, or if you weren't too tired, letting him use your mouth. On the sixth day, you decided that since you don't know how long this could go, you and Jimin would take turns; one of you one day, and the other the next, leaving a day to rest in between each shift for strength recovery and sleep.

Jimin went first seeing as he was used less the previous day, so you sat out on the couch relaxing, listening to the sweet sounds of your boyfriends moaning in the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to join them, but you still couldn't really walk, so you forced yourself to rest. You made their meals and they snuggled with you during the downtime, but once Namjoon felt it, they disappeared back into the bedroom.

At one point, you could only hear Namjoon and you got worried. He has a tendency to go too hard with Jimin, causing the younger boy to retreat into his headspace and pass out, and Namjoon rarely notices. When you went to check on Jimin's state of being, however, the sight you were greeted with wasn't what you expected. What you expected was to see Jimin beneath Namjoon, flopping around like a dead fish, but instead you saw Namjoon face down, ass up while Jimin sits on the bed behind him, gently inserting a decent sized plug into his elder.

"J-Jiminie, I... Hnnn, I can't."

"If you want to stop, use your safeword hyung." Jimin coos, rubbing Namjoon's lower back.

"I don't want to..." Namjoon whines.

"Then just relax for me Joonie." Jimin smirks, obviously loving being in control.

You giggled to yourself as you shut the door, returning to your perch on the couch until Namjoon came and got you for bed and you walked in to see Jimin already fast asleep.

When you wake up the next morning, you grumble when you realize it's your day, your legs still just the slightest bit sore, but you're surprised there isn't a nose or a hand pressed somewhere against you. When you roll over, you notice Namjoon isn't even in bed as Jimin smiles sweetly at you.

"Good Morning love." Jimin whispers.

"Morning." You mumble.

"I just sent him to go to the store for some things so you can sleep a little longer."

"Mm." You nod with a happy sigh. "Why are we whispering?"

"Because I don't think he's left yet and I don't want him to hear you and forget what he's doing."

"You're amazing."

"I know." He giggles, kissing your forehead. "It's too early for you yet jagiya, go back to sleep."

You nod, snuggling up to him and doing exactly as he suggests.

The next time you wake up, it's because you smell food. As soon as your eyes open, you hear the door to the bedroom creak and you look up to see Jimin peeking his head into the room.

"Jagiya?" He whispers.

You stretch with a groan. "Mhm?"

"Ah, hello beautiful." He smiles as he walks into the room, Namjoon behind him carrying a tray.

"What's all this?" You ask as you sit up.

"Joon wanted to make you some breakfast.” Jimin states as Namjoon walks over and places the tray across your lap.

“What’s the occasion?” You ask and you sit up.

“No occasion.” Namjoon mumbles and he climbs into the bed next to you. “Just a thank you for putting up with me.”

“Namjoon.” Jimin scolds as Namjoon scoots closer to you. “Let her eat.”

“I am!” Namjoon whines. “I’m just laying here, jeez.” Namjoon snuggles up and wraps his arm around your waist, his fingers playing with the sheets covering your legs.

"Are we doing anything tonight?" Jimin asks as he seats himself down on the edge of the bed.

"Tonight?" You look at him quizzically, trying to remember what special occasion has slipped your mind.

Jimin giggles. "It's New Years Eve, love."

"It is?" You start counting on your fingers. Seven days since Christmas Eve... Damn. That checks out. "I didn't even realize."

"I don't think we had anything planned, did we?" Namjoon questions.

"I don't believe so." Jimin shakes his head.

"Well," You mumble between bites of eggs , not wanting to even say it. "Seokjin invited us to his annual party."

"He did?" Namjoon sits up, his tail wagging a bit.

You grimace on the inside as you nod. "He texted me the day after Christmas and asked us to come."

"Do you want to go?" Jimin asks you.

You shrug in an attempt to be nonchalant as you finish your toast. "It's up to Joon really. If he thinks he can handle it." You both turn to see his ears perked up.

"I can handle it!" Namjoon bursts.

"Are you sure?" Jimin asks. "You haven't had a lot of energy the last few days."

"I can do it! I promise, I'll be so good!" Namjoon's tail thumps against the bed.

You sigh to yourself. "Okay Joonie, we can go for a little bit if you want." You offer him a smile as you put your tray on the bedside table.

"Thank you!" Namjoon tackles you to the bed and gives you a sweet kiss. And then another kiss. And another until his lips don't want to separate from you.

You hear Jimin chuckle as he gets up. "I suppose it's time."

Namjoon's lips slip down to your neck, allowing you to talk to Jimin as the other boy climbs on top of you. "It is." You agree, judging by the feeling of Namjoon's erection against your thigh.

"I'll leave you to it." He leans over and gives you a quick kiss before grabbing your empty tray and starting toward the door. "Namjoon." He turns back.

"Mmm?" Is Namjoon's response as he bites down on your neck, making you gasp.

"If you want to go tonight, do not wear her out, you hear me? If you do, you'll be in big trouble." He warns.

Namjoon gives Jimin a thumbs up, which seems to satisfy the younger boy as he walks out of the room and shuts the door, leaving you and Namjoon alone.

"I missed you jagiya." He whimpers against your neck. "It wasn't the same without you yesterday." He sits up and removes the blankets that cover your lap, inhaling the scent of your already present arousal. "You smell so good." He groans, kissing his way down your body and pulling your panties with him. As he kisses his way back up your thighs, you giggle.

"Right to it, huh Joonie?"

"How can I not when you smell like this jagiya?" He groans, pressing his cheek to your inner thigh as his fingers gently spread you apart and he looks up at you, his eyes pleading.

"Go ahead baby." You nod, not even getting a chance to catch your breath before Namjoon has his plump lips against you, delicately flicking his tongue against the bud as his fingers massage you, getting the blood to flow to your most sensitive parts as pleasure begins to fill your senses.

It isn't long before you stop squirming away from him and start pushing your hips up against his mouth, silently begging for more. Namjoon happily obliges, wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking harshly on the throbbing bundle of nerves like his life depends on it.

"Ah, Joon..." You gasp, your fingers tangling in the sheets. Namjoon rubs the inside of your thigh before plunging two of his long fingers deep into your core.

"You're so tight baby." Namjoon growls, his own hips rutting against the mattress. "Y/N-ah, I-I want... Please."

The desperation in his voice makes you tighten around his fingers, but you hesitate. "Joon..."

"I'll be good, I promise." He whines. "It won't take me long, please. I need to feel you."

You sigh. "Alright. But remember what Jimin said if you want to go tonight."

"Thank you baby." He growls, immediately shuffling out of his pajama pants and boxers.

Namjoon scoots up between your legs, rubbing his throbbing length against your soaked center, shivering from the contact. He leans over and places sweet kisses against your lips as he presses against your entrance. You can feel the strain in his muscles as he forces himself to go slowly. You gasp as he breaches you, your face getting hot as he swallows your soft noise, groaning against your lips as he fills you.

Much to your surprise, Namjoon is incredibly gentle, fucking you softly, sweetly, taking his time with you the way he usually does when he's not in heat. He feels so good sliding against your walls that it isn't long before you feel heat begin to swirl in your stomach.

"Joonie you feel so good today." You whine.

"You have no idea." He moans. "You have no idea how amazing you feel right now. So tight and so fucking wet for me." He smacks into you aggressively just once, making you squeak in pleasure as he reminds you exactly who you belong to at this moment. "I'm so close already, baby."

"Me too Joonie, it's okay. Let go for me baby."

"Fuck, I love you so much jagi." He smacks into you again.

"Ah~" You whimper as he fills you so deliciously. "I love you too Joon."

"S-shit." Namjoon's hips stutter and he whines as he buries his face in your neck, grinding himself against you to fill you as deep as he can, wanting your warmth to surround him as his orgasm kickstarts.

Thankfully, with Namjoon pressing his pelvis against your clit, along with his melodic moans and whimpers in your ear, your own high finally hits you just before Namjoon's. With the added squeeze of your walls around his length, Namjoon follows you into bliss with a soft cry of your name, his warm release filling you to the brim.

The two of you lay there for a moment, panting, relishing in each other's company until Namjoon begins to whine softly in your ear.

"What's wrong Joonie?" You pull his face back to meet his gaze.

"I'm just tired." He sighs. "I'm so tired, I want this to be over. I feel so bad putting you and Jiminie through this."

"Joon," You cup his face and give him a soft kiss. "We know what we signed up for baby. We love you and wouldn't want you any other way."

"You're just saying that." He mumbles.

You shake your head as you pat his cheek. "Look at me." He hesitates, staring at your neck. "Namjoon-ah." His head snaps up to meet your gaze. "We love you so much. No matter what." You grab his chin. "Don't you ever forget that, you hear me?" He nods, a soft smile playing at his lips. "Good. Now do you need another or do you want to rest for a minute?"

"I think I'm okay for right now."

"Alright. Get yourself cleaned up baby and we'll go watch a show."

Namjoon nods, pulling out of you and grabbing some tissues off the nightstand. He cleans you up first and then wipes himself off as you throw your pajamas back on and head out to the living room first.

"Out so soon?" Jimin asks as you appear around the corner.

You nod as you plop yourself down next to him. "I think it's finally slowing." You state. "Either that or he feels too bad to admit he needs another." You whisper the last part.

"Is he upset again?" Jimin questions, obviously concerned.

"Mmhm. He feels bad for putting us through this."

Jimin sighs. "Was he really rough again? It didn't sound like it."

"He was unbelievably gentle. Like when he's wine drunk. I think you scared him." You giggle.

"Joon," Jimin smiles when the older boy walks into the room. "I heard you were a good boy."

Namjoon blushes at the praise as he seats himself on your other side. "I tried my best."

"He was perfect." You ruffle the hair between his ears. "So good that we can stay at Jin's party for however long he wants."

"Really?" Namjoon perks up.

"Really?" Jimin repeats.

You nod. "Why not? We all deserve a little fun, don't you think?"

"Thank you jagi." Namjoon whispers as he lays his head in your lap.

The three of you revert into silence as Jimin turns on the next episode of your latest binge show. You allow yourself to relax for a bit, although you can't say you're looking forward to Jin's party. You like Jin, you do, it's just that sometimes Namjoon can get a little out of control at these sorts of functions, and with his heat acting the way it is, you don't know what will happen.

Sometimes he can get a little aggressive towards other hybrids when he's in heat, and Jin's roommate Jeongguk isn't the friendliest hybrid to begin with. You've had to pry the two apart on more than one occasion, teeth bared, hackles raised, ears flat, and you don't want to go through that tonight when Namjoon is already upset with himself.

Your mind wanders as you think about what to wear to the party. You don't want anything too flashy or provocation, lest you accidentally turn Namjoon on. As you scroll through your phone to look at makeup tutorials, you feel a hand squeeze your thigh. You look up at Jimin to see him nod his head at Namjoon. You turn to look at the older boy to see him squeezing his legs together, his hands pushing down the front of his sweat pants as he tries not to squirm.

You run your fingers through Namjoon's hair. "Joonie? You need something baby?"

Namjoon whimpers. "N-no, I'm fine."

"Joon, we're here to help you, remember?"

Another whimper. "I know... " He sighs.

"Do you need something?"

"Maybe... Maybe just a little..."

You move your hand down Namjoon's arm to his waist before slipping it into his pants, stroking him gently. He lets out a low groan of relief at your touch, adjusting himself so that he's laying on his back, his head still in your lap. He's already rock hard, his length dripping as you stroke him.

"That feels good jagiya." He hums, pushing his hips up into your hand.

"All you had to do was ask." You remind him. He only nods, too lost in the feeling of your hand wrapped around him. You work him slowly as you watch tv, focusing on the tip the way he likes until you hear a whimper on your other side. You turn to see Jimin, his eyes trained on your right hand.

"God that's hot..." He gasps, his own hand fondling himself over his shorts.

"Really?" You giggle when you see the look on his face.

"I'm sorry." He shrugs playfully. "You know watching you play with each other is my weakness."

You smirk in response before reaching your left hand over and smacking Jimin's hands out of the way, slipping under his waistband and replacing his hands with your own.

"Oh god, Y/N." He whines. "You don't have to-"

"But I want to." You interrupt him.

You relax back against the couch, your hands full as you focus on satisfying your boys. Unfortunately for you, the soft moans coming from both sides of you are making you hot, but it's best not to tell them. You should rest while they enjoy themselves.

After several minutes, you find yourself in another "you should've known" situation. You should've known Namjoon could smell your arousal and you should've tried to hide it better. When you feel Namjoon's hand reach up and start to feel around for your center, you try to push him away.

"Joon I'm okay."

"No you're not." He looks up at you. "I can tell when you need something too, baby." You sigh, knowing there's no point in arguing with him. "Why don't you come sit in my lap?"

You nod as you release both boys and stand up, sliding your panties down to the floor before straddling Namjoon's lap where he lays on the couch. You pull Namjoon’s pants down to mid thigh and rub yourself against his length, letting him feel how wet you already are before grabbing him and sliding yourself down onto his cock.

You moan low in your chest as Namjoon fills you, taking a few deep breaths as you allow your walls to accommodate him. As you begin to move, you watch Jimin get up on his knees and scoot up to Namjoon before pulling his shorts and boxers down to release his own hardness. Jimin leans over the elder boy and taps his dick against Namjoon's plump lips.

"Why don't you put that sweet mouth to work?" Jimin commands. Namjoon quickly obeys, welcoming Jimin's length into his mouth. The sight alone has you groan aloud, whimpering as you tighten around Namjoon. "I think she likes seeing you like this Joon." Jimin smirks.

"Judging by how tight she just got." Namjoon grunts, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You place your hands over his and begin to bounce yourself in Namjoon's lap, wanting nothing more than to feel release.

Entranced by the sight, you can't take your eyes off of the way Jimin's cock disappears behind Namjoon's lips. Sure, you've seen this before, but never with Namjoon in such a submissive position, and it turns you on like crazy. It shouldn't surprise you when your orgasm starts to creep up on you, but it's only been a few minutes and you're already such a mess. You decide to lean over and give Namjoon a hand, or rather, a mouth; hoping to calm yourself down a bit.

Jimin groans loudly at the addition of your mouth, lacing his hands in your hair as Namjoon brings his hand down harshly on your ass. You gasp, drool dripping off your tongue and onto Jimin's length as you whimper before going back to running that tongue up his length to his tip where your tongue and Namjoon's collide, causing Jimin to shiver.

"You two are so fucking good... So good to me." Jimin gasps, but the two of you can only moan in response, neither one of you wanting to stop.

Namjoon is first, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrusts up into you harshly. He grinds himself against you as he fills you with his release, panting as he comes down, and you can't help the whine that slips past your lips.

"Did he finish before you jagi?" Jimin asks, pulling out of Namjoon's mouth so the older boy can catch his breath. You nod, a firm pout on your lips. Jimin sits back down on the couch and pats his thighs. "Come here love. Joon, do you need help cleaning yourself up?"

Namjoon shakes his head as you slip off of him, some of his release dripping out of you as you make your way over to Jimin and sit yourself in his lap, quickly sliding down onto his length with a sigh of satisfaction. Unfortunately, it's only a few minutes before Jimin follows his elder into bliss with a grunted "I'm sorry".

You pout again as Jimin stops your hips from moving, overstimulation hitting him right after he fills you with his hot cum. "You guys." You whine. "This isn't fair!"

Just as you're about to climb off, you're pushed into Jimin's chest, popping you off him as your hips are pulled back and you feel Namjoon slide into you. He leans over and whispers in your ear. "One more for me? You know I couldn't watch that little display and not do anything for you baby."

"Ah, Joon, please." You beg, pushing back into him. He quickly indulges you, setting a quick pace as he slams directly into your g-spot over and over, his fingers bruising your hips as you whimper into Jimin's neck.

"Cum for me baby, come on. It won't take me long. You know how much I love feeling Jiminie inside you." Namjoon grunts.

"Harder." You gasp.

Namjoon stops with a whine, but before you can say anything, Jimin speaks. "It's okay Joonie, she asked for it."

Namjoon immediately starts up again, harder this time as you feel fingers dip between your legs and begin rubbing your clit, helping push you up to and right over the edge, slamming you face first into your orgasm. Your legs shake as your walls spasm around Namjoon's length, quickly sending him into his own high, feeling him fill you one more time before you both collapse on top of Jimin, exhausted.

Jimin rubs your arms soothingly as you all catch your breath. Namjoon's the first to get up, gently pulling out of you as he stands. He grabs a tissue off the coffee table and cleans you up before attending to himself and Jimin. Your legs are already sore as you sit up, clenching your thighs together to avoid leaking onto the couch. You look at the time to see it's already two o'clock. You should get a shower before Jin's party.

"I'm going to go take a shower." You state, stumbling a bit as you get to your feet. Luckily, Namjoon catches you and straightens you up, a look of guilt on his face. "I'm alright Joon." You smile and ruffle his hair. "Just need a hot shower and some food."

"We'll have lunch ready when you get out." Jimin states as he stands behind you, pulling his shorts back up.

You nod and give them both a kiss before grabbing your discarded underwear and heading into the bedroom. You toss your panties and nightshirt into the laundry and grab a change of clothes before walking into the bathroom and starting the shower.

You take a longer shower than you probably should, but you just can't bring yourself to get out, so you decide to pamper yourself. Shave, scrub, body wash, face mask, hair mask, all the extra steps you usually take for dates like your anniversary, except this time it's just because you feel like it. By the time you finally decide to get out, you don't think you've ever been this soft or smelled this nice. You wrap your hair up in a towel and slip into your change of clothes before walking back out into the kitchen to find your boys seated at the table waiting for you.

"Did you save me any hot water?" Jimin jokes.

"Hush." You mess up his hair as you walk by and take your seat.

The three of you eat in comfortable silence, making occasional small talk and jokes as you finish eating. When you're finished eating, the boys start on dishes while you go start getting ready for tonight.

You dry and style your hair before starting on a simple, yet sparkly make up look. When you're finished, you walk over to your closet to pick out an outfit. You decide on the dress Jimin got you for Christmas; a soft, dark grey sweater dress and a pair of silver heels to match. You slip the dress on and then walk back over to your vanity to apply your lipstick as Namjoon walks into the room to get dressed.

"Oh my god." He gasps. Before you have time to react, he's pressed against your back with his hands around your waist. "Jagiya, you look amazing."

"Joon I don't want to mess up my makeup." You whine as his fingers start tugging up your dress.

"Please?" He whimpers. "Last one, I promise."

"Jimin!" You call.

"Yeah babe?" He pokes his head out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist.

"Can you help him?" You push Namjoon towards the bathroom. "I don't want to mess up my makeup."

Jimin smirks. "Of course. Come on Joon." He tugs the older boy into the bathroom and shuts the door.

As you finish your lipstick, you near Namjoon's soft moans coming from behind the door. You wish you could've helped him, but you'd either have to redo your makeup, or take another shower, neither of which you feel like doing.

It's only a few minutes before the bathroom door reopens and a blushing Namjoon walks out, followed by Jimin who's licking his lips. They both walk over to the closet, but you stop Jimin, wiping a bit of cum off his chin for him. He quickly sucks it off your thumb, tossing you a wink before continuing on his path to the closet.

After both boys are dressed, you slip on your shoes and head out to the car, getting in and driving to Jin's house for the party.

Unsurprisingly, when you arrive, the party is already in full swing. Much like every other one of Jin's parties, it's loud; between the music thumping the walls, and people yelling everywhere; you can't hear yourself think, or speak for that matter. Believe it or not, this is a toned down version of the parties he threw in college; at least there aren't people trying to fuck every five feet. In fact, you know most of the people here. You walk up to the door and ring the bell, waiting for only a moment before the door opens.

" Y/N!" Jin smiles widely when he sees you. "You guys made it!"

"Of course!" You attempt to sound cheerful. "Wouldn't have missed it."

"Come on in." He opens the door to let you in and Namjoon immediately begins to sniff the air.

"Is Jeonggukkie here?" He asks, his tail wagging.

Jin nods. "Last time I saw him he was in the kitchen."

"Joon wait!" Before you can say anything, Namjoon disappears into the chaos. "Shit. Jimin, can you... ?"

"Already on it love." He places a kiss on your cheek before following Namjoon into the house. You huff as Jin shuts the door behind you.

"Keeping your pup on a shorter leash?" He inquires.

"He's in heat." You sigh. "Has been since Christmas eve."

"Are you serious?" Jin gasps.

You nod. "I just don't want him to cause trouble. You know how he can get, especially around Jeongguk."

"I'm sure they'll be fine." Jin shrugs, slinging his arm over your shoulder. "Speaking of. Why haven't you let Kook and I join your little harem yet, hm? I can guarantee we make it worth your while."

"Ugh. Have another drink Seokjin." You shrug him off of you. "And keep your crusty dick away from me you creep." You shove him lightly as you walk away, delighting in the way he stumbles.

You make your way into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of chips and some punch, searching for your boys. You quickly find them in the living room. Namjoon is on the couch with Jeongguk, the two of them chatting away, while Jimin stands not too far off talking to Hoseok. You walk over to Jimin and squeeze his arm.

"There you are." Jimin smiles at you.

"Sorry, Jin had to offer himself to me again."

"What a creep." Hoseok laughs. "Why do you even hang out with him?"

You can't help it when your eyes wander over to the couch. "For Joon." You state simply. "If he and Kook weren't friends, believe me, I wouldn't."

"Ah, the things we do for love." Hoseok raises his cup in a mock toast.

"The things we do for love." You and Jimin repeat before the three of you take long swigs of your drinks.

"Anyone care for a refill?" Hoseok asks.

"Please?" Jimin asks, and you nod, both handing him your cups. Hoseok disappears into the kitchen and you turn your gaze back to Namjoon.

"Jagiya, if I told you to relax, would you listen?" Jimin asks, rubbing your arm.

You shake your head. "I don't think I can. I'm so worried he'll start something again."

" Y/N-ah..."

"You should go have fun Jiminie. I'll keep my eye on him tonight."

"Are you sure?"

You nod. "It's my day after all."

Jimin gives you a sympathetic smile as Hoseok reappears, handing you both full cups. "I put an extra splash in there for you guys." He smirks. "To help you loosen up."

"Thanks Hobi." You giggle as you take a sip, your throat burning from the high alcohol content. "Jesus." You cough. "This tastes like floor cleaner."

"That's the good stuff!" Hoseok cheers, patting you on the back.

"The good stuff tastes like floor cleaner." You repeat, albeit taking another sip.

"That's my girl." Jimin beams proudly.

The next few hours go by uneventfully. Jimin goes off to play beer pong while you sit at the edge of the table, cheering him on and casually chatting with whoever walks up to you, while keeping your eye on Namjoon who still sits giggling with Jeongguk on the couch. After Jimin's fifth win, you have to use the bathroom. You quietly excuse yourself, taking one last look at Namjoon before deciding he should be okay for a few minutes, plus Jimin isn't far away.

You make your way to the upstairs bathroom, knowing it's off limits during parties except for people that know it's there. You stumble a bit as you lock the door, realizing just how much you've had to drink tonight and you giggle to yourself. You do your business, peeing for what feels like forever before washing your hands. As you're rubbing the soap in, however, the doorknob to the bathroom jiggles like someone's trying to open it.

"One second." You call out as you rinse your hands.

"Jagi it's me. Open the door."

Namjoon? You dry your hands before unlocking the door and opening it to see Namjoon. As soon as he sees you, he shoves you back into the bathroom and shuts the door behind you both. His hands are on you immediately, feeling every inch of your body as his lips find your neck.

"Y/N-ah, help me." He whimpers.

"Now?" You whine, but sure enough you feel Namjoon's length digging into your stomach.

"This one's your fault!" He pouts.

"How is it my fault?"

"It's the dress." He explains. "When you walked by I could smell your perfume and then when you went up the stairs I could see your ass hanging out the bottom of your dress. Are you even wearing underwear?"

"I'm wearing a thong, which apparently, was a mistake."

"God, it looked so good jagi please." He begs. "Just a quick one. No one will even know we're gone." He grabs your hips and lifts you on to the counter next to the sink.

"Joon you're drunk."

"So are you." He states, unbuckling his belt and pulling his cock out of his pants, spreading your legs with his thighs.

You grab him by the hair on the back of his neck, stopping him in his tracks and forcing him to look at you. "If you make a mess-"

"I won't, I promise!"

You sigh before releasing his hair, using your heels to push him toward you. He happily scoots forward, reaching a hand between your legs to push your thong to the side before immediately plunging two fingers deep inside you. You slap your hand over your mouth as a moan threatens to escape, not wanting anyone to know what you're up to.

Namjoon presses his thumb to your clit, hastening the process of getting you wet for him. It doesn't take long for you to get wrapped up in the feeling of his long dexterous fingers, and soon you're really struggling to keep quiet. After a few more carefully calculated thrusts, Namjoon pulls his fingers out and licks them clean, groaning at the taste.

"Turn over." He growls, pulling you off the counter. "I wanna see that ass bounce for me."

You swallow hard, knowing the glint in his eye is never a good sign as you face away from him to lean on the counter. Namjoon pushes your dress up around your waist before caressing your behind. He wastes no time moving your thong aside before slamming himself into you.

"Oh fuck..." You whimper, knowing immediately that he's not going to take it easy on you. You look up at the mirror to see him smirk, his gaze focused on the sight where the two of you are joined. He spreads your cheeks apart and groans.

"You take me so well baby. Even with barely any prep your tight little pussy opens right up for me."

"Joon, keep it down." You hiss.

Namjoon brings his hand down harshly on your ass. "What's wrong? You don't want everyone to know what a good girl you are?"

"No, now either fuck me, or I'm leaving."

Namjoon pulls his hips back and slams into you viciously, causing you to clamp your hand back over your mouth. "Do you really want to sass me right now princess? When I'm so willing to fill up this tight little cunt with my pups?"

With that, you know he's already gone. Namjoon only ever says things that dirty when his animalistic side has taken over completely. Nevertheless, your walls constrict as the words fall from his lips. "I'm sorry." You mumble.

"Such a good girl." He praises."Now let's see how much this pretty pussy can take, hm?" You only nod, knowing the question was rhetorical as his hips start to move.

Namjoon is relentless, fucking you so hard that you can barely stay upright. Small whimpers and moans manage to escape you and echo around the small bathroom. You dare chance a glance in the mirror to see Namjoon focused on you. When your eyes meet, he smirks, biting his lip, and no matter how much you want to, you can't look away.

After a few more moments, you force your eyes to close as your legs begin to shake, laying your head down on your arms as you try to keep yourself quiet. You feel Namjoon's hand on your back, his fingers running up and down your spine, his other hand tightly gripping your waist.

It isn't long after that you feel heat begin to build in your body, feeling helpless as Namjoon spreads your cheeks apart again, watching himself fuck you. However, before you can reach your high, Namjoon falls into his own. Keeping his promise to not make a mess, he pulls out and strokes himself to release on your ass. Before you can even pout, you feel Namjoon's thumb in your folds, flicking the sensitive skin.

"I'll get you fixed up baby, don't move." He growls. You hear the rustling of clothes and then you feel a tongue pressing against your core.

"Joon~!" You cry out, unable to stop it from slipping past your lips. "Ah, fuck..."

Namjoon's lips go directly to your clit, sucking vigorously on the bud as his tongue flicks against it at what feels like light speed. You hardly have a chance to wrap your head around what's happening before your orgasm slams into you.

"Oh god!" You gasp, your vision going white, but just before you reach the peak of the feeling, You hear the door click open.

"Oh shit."

The rest of your high is ripped from you as you look up to see Jeongguk staring at your ass. The next few moments feel like slow motion as you can only watch in the mirror. Namjoon removes his face from the perfect fit of your ass cheeks to see the intruder. Jeongguk sniffs the air aggressively, his pupils dilating as he attempts to reach for you.

You hear a low growl as Jeongguk states that you smell "so fucking good", and then before you can stop it, you see Namjoon lunge for Jeongguk and tackle him out of your line of sight.

"No!" You screech, jumping into action. You pull your dress down as you stand up and rush out of the room. You grab Namjoon by the back of his shirt to attempt to pull him off the younger hybrid, but he's much stronger than you, and easily tosses you aside as he throws another punch. You fall back against the wall, but keep your balance, immediately going over to try again. "Namjoon stop!" You command, yanking on him again just as Jimin and Jin burst into the room.

They see Namjoon and Jeongguk on the floor and spring into action, helping you to pull the two apart. After they're restrained you step in between them, both of them still growling, and cup Namjoon's face in your palms.

"Joon look at me. Come back to me baby."

"He was going to touch you. To touch what's mine!"

"No one's going to touch me love. Just you. Now look at me. Come on." Namjoon's gaze flits between you and Jeongguk several times before it finally settles on you and his breathing starts to level out. "There's my Joon." You rub his arms soothingly as Jimin lets him go. "Are you good?"

He nods. "I'm good. Oh god, I'm so sorry." Namjoon looks over at Jeongguk who is still growling, his teeth bared.

"Let's get you downstairs until the hormones calm down." You suggest, pushing him toward the stairs.

You follow him down into the living room, surprised Jimin isn't immediately behind you. The two of you wait at the bottom of the stairs for a few minutes until Jimin finally comes down.

"Sorry, I was helping Jin calm Kook down."

"It's okay." You nod. "Is he...?"

"He'll be fine." Jimin assures you. "But we should get going just in case."

"Alright."

The three of you say your goodbyes and then hop in the car for a quiet ride home. You walk into your house and slip off your shoes before heading upstairs to the bedroom. You immediately walk into the bathroom to check the state of your dress, and sure enough, the back of it is littered with cum stains.

“Damnit." You mutter as you hear the boys enter the bedroom. You walk back into the room and grab some clothes out of your dresser before you hear someone laugh behind you.

"What did you sit in?" Jimin asks, coming up behind you to look at your dress. But before you can answer, Namjoon speaks.

"It's my fault." He mumbles.

"Joon-" You start.

"Is Jeongguk okay?" He looks up, guilt obvious on his face.

"He's alright Namjoon." Jimin nods. "Just a little ruffled is all."

"I'm sorry." Namjoon sighs. "I couldn't- I had no control."

Your heart aches for him. "It's okay baby. You were just trying to protect me." You remind him, cupping his face in your hands. "We know you can't control it, it's okay."

"We still love you hyung." Jimin adds.

"Absolutely." You agree. "No matter what." You both wrap your arms tightly around Namjoon, and squeeze the breath out of him.

"Thank you." He smiles softly.

"Now, does anyone want to tell me what happened?" Jimin questions. You and Namjoon both giggle before you relay the events of the night to Jimin, making him crackup. "That's where you went? I didn't even notice Joon was gone until I heard you scream."

"Yeah, that's where we went." You admit.

"And the back of your dress is stained with... creme a la Joon?" He teases. You blush as you nod. "Well that'll have to be dry cleaned."

"Alright you've had your fun. Now let's get changed and we can watch the ball drop."

The boys agree and you grab your change of clothes and head to the bathroom to attempt to clean the dried cum off of yourself. When you're finished, you find your boys already snuggled up in bed and you jump on top of them, sinking down in between them.

"Man, we still have two hours to kill." Jimin observes.

"Yeah, I didn't realize how early it was. I guess because we left the party so early."

Jimin nods. "What should we do?"

"I-I have an idea..." Namjoon mumbles. You both turn to look at him, your curiosity piqued. "Um..." He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly shy.

"Do you need something?" You use the phrase he knows best.

He nods. "Kind of."

"What's up babe?" Jimin asks, leaning on you a bit.

Namjoon gets up, drawing your and Jimin's gaze as he walks over to his closet. You watch him dig around for a moment before he walks back over with three items in hand; his collar, a bottle of lube, and a strap on.

"Are you sure you're ready Joon?" Jimin sits up. "We haven't done that much."

"I'm sure." He walks back over to the bed and sits on the edge next to you. "Besides, it's not like it's as big as you Jiminie." Jimin blushes at this. "As long as Y/N is ready?" He holds his collar out to you.

"Jimin will have to guide me. I haven't even played with him very much."

"I can do that." Jimin smiles, resting his head on your shoulder.

"Then yes," You take the collar from Namjoon. "I'm ready."

Namjoon places the other items on the nightstand before leaning in to kiss you. You reach up after the kiss and fasten the collar around Namjoon's neck, giving it a tug when it's on and making his eyes go wide in surprise.

"Come here baby." You growl, grabbing Namjoon and pushing him down into the center of the bed so you and Jimin both have access to his body.

You grab Namjoon's shirt and pull it up off his body, immediately tossing it on the floor before pressing your lips to his chest. Jimin takes that as his cue to lean in and kiss Namjoon. You kiss your way down Namjoon's chest, paying special attention to his nipples, knowing how quickly it'll get him begging for more. Namjoon moans into Jimin's mouth as you slide a hand down and cup him over his shorts.

As Jimin's lips move to Namjoon's neck, you start to tug down the elder boy's pants, quickly realizing that he didn't even put on boxers. His erection springs up and you lick a long stripe up his length, making him shiver.

"D-don't tease please." Namjoon begs.

Jimin sits up and tweaks one of Namjoon's nipples. "What do you want Joonie?" Jimin smirks.

Namjoon whimpers. "Y-Your tongue..."

"Yeah? You want us to play with that tight little ass you've got?"

"P-please." He whines.

"Turn over." Jimin commands. It amazes you how quickly Namjoon listens, flipping himself over and sticking his ass high in the air. "Good boy." Jimin rubs Namjoon's back, his fingers dancing along the older boy's skin before he brings his hand down harshly on Namjoon's ass, causing Namjoon to moan and arch his back. Heat suddenly floods your center at Jimin's dominant display.

"Wow..." You gasp. "It's hot as hell seeing you like this Chim."

Jimin smirks, pulling your waist to bring you in for a kiss. "I'll get to you later." He grabs your ass once before turning his attention back to Namjoon.

Jimin spreads the elder boy's cheeks, rubbing his thumb over the puckered rim before leaning in and flicking his tongue over the hole, causing a moan to come from the head of the bed. You watch, rubbing Namjoon's thighs entranced by the way he pushes back against Jimin's face.

"Jimin..." You mumble.

"Mm?" He groans, not separating from Namjoon.

"I... Can I try this time?"

He smiles as he licks one last stripe from Namjoon's balls up to his entrance. "Of course." He scoots to the side and let's you move in. "Just like you do for me baby girl."

You nod as you dive in. You immediately flick your tongue against Namjoon before sucking gently on his perineum. Namjoon whimpers as you continue, licking and sucking your way up to his entrance where you dip your tongue inside, making him squirm.

"Good love, keep going I'll be right back." Jimin praises, climbing off the bed. You continue your ministrations, loving the way Namjoon keens at your touch as you hear Jimin walk into the closet. He returns a few moments later and you see him reach under Namjoon for a moment, causing the older boy to whine.

"Jimin!" He groans. "Why?" You pull back to see what Namjoon's whining about and see a cock ring wrapped snugly around the base of Namjoon's length.

"One, so there's less mess to clean up, and two, as a punishment for getting into a fist fight at a party." Jimin states plainly.

Namjoon whimpers. "I said I was sorry."

"We know" Jimin smirks. "But if I remember correctly, this isn't the first time this has happened, is it?"

"But-"

"Noona, you remember Chuseok last year, don't you?"

You nod. "Mhm. I remember a fight then too."

"Then it seems our Joonie hasn't learned his lesson, doesn't it?"

"It certainly seems that way." You agree.

Namjoon groans as he lays himself flat on the bed, his face in a pillow. You rub his back soothingly as Jimin grabs a different pillow and smacks Namjoon's hips. Namjoon mumbles something before lifting his hips, allowing Jimin to slide the pillow underneath Namjoon to lift his hips for your advantage.

"Where do you want to start tonight baby?" Jimin asks, giving Namjoon's ass a nice smack. Namjoon holds up two fingers. Another smack. "Sounds good." Jimin nods before turning to you. "I'm gonna get him stretched out for you baby. You can watch or you can find something else for him to do." He winks at you before grabbing the lube, spreading it over his fingers, and then beginning to wiggle his fingers into Namjoon's entrance.

You crawl up to the head of the bed, gripping Namjoon's hair tightly and pulling his face out of the pillow. "You want to do something for me, handsome?"

He nods, moving the pillow out of the way and helping you situate yourself in front of him before he dives between your legs, ravishing you as Jimin works on him. It's only a few minutes of Namjoon's talented tongue between your legs before Jimin deems Namjoon ready. You sigh, unfulfilled as you separate yourself from Namjoon's mouth, and work your way back down the bed.

You pick up the strap on and look at it quizzically. "So..."

"Let me help you put that on babygirl." Jimin offers, taking the strap on from you. "Hold this part?" He asks, putting your hand on the silicone length which you hold as instructed, as he ties the object to your waist. When he's done, Jimin bounces the strap on with his finger, making you both giggle until Namjoon whines again. "Hold on Joon." The younger boy chides as he climbs off the bed, digging something out of the nightstand. "We can't let you have all the fun."

Jimin walks back over to you and slips his hand between your legs, quickly finding your center and slipping something smooth and cold inside of you. "C-Chim?" You squeak.

Jimin wiggles a remote in front of your face, a smirk plastered to his lips. "Just a little extra. Now." He grabs the bottle of lube and squirts some into his palm lubing up the strap on for you before putting a little extra lube around Namjoon's entrance. "Just be gentle because, you know, you can't feel him." Jimin kneels on the bed behind you, pressing his chest to your back and resting his head on your shoulder. He wraps his arms around you and guides you up to Namjoon who is already back up on his knees, pushing back in search of you.

"You ready Joonie?" You ask, rubbing his lower back.

"Y-yes." He moans.

"Okay." You nod, beginning to push forward.

"Nice and easy." Jimin reminds you.

Namjoon groans low in his chest as you breach him. Taking that as a good sign, you continue slowly, with Jimin whispering sweet words of encouragement in your ear. As you get about halfway into him, something whirrs to life inside you. The vibrations cause you to jerk forward a bit, making Namjoon whimper.

"Sorry Joon." Jimin apologizes. "I probably should've waited for noona to be completely inside you."

"I c-can feel the vibrations." Namjoon whines.

"Does it feel good baby?" You question. He only nods, arching into you more. You continue to push forward until you're completely seated inside him.

"There we go." Jimin praises, reaching around you to give Namjoon's ass a nice smack. "How's that Joon-ah?"

"I f-feel so full..." He groans.

"Mm such a good boy." Another smack. "Are you ready?" Jimin asks. Namjoon nods enthusiastically. "Go ahead noona."

With that as your cue, you situate yourself, gripping Namjoon's waist as you slowly pull out before pushing back into him with a bit more force.

"Oh god..." Namjoon groans.

"A little harder baby." Jimin instructs, grabbing your own waist.

Jimin helps you set a rhythm and after a few moments, you've got it down, thrusting into Namjoon with purpose, relishing in the smack of your thighs against his. With the combination of the vibrator deep inside you, along with the strap on rubbing against your clit, you're starting to feel a wetness dripping between your legs, and Namjoon's soft whimpers and moans aren't helping.

Suddenly the vibrator goes from a dull buzz to a full roar as Jimin goes up several levels at once and your hips kick forward against Namjoon, filling him to the brim as you both gasp for breath.

"Fuck! Jimin!" You curse as Namjoon grips the sheets beneath him.

"Right there jagi , right there oh god~" He whines. "Don't move." You rub Namjoon's back as you hold yourself still inside him, waiting for your next instruction. You feel Namjoon's body tense beneath your fingers before he lets out a high pitched cry and begins trembling. "Oh fuck, oh my god, jagiya, yes!" He finally exclaims, his body continuing to shudder as his orgasm floods his nerves until he starts panting. "What the fuck?"

"Welcome to your first dry orgasm Joonie." Jimin teases as he eases your hips back gently, until Namjoon stops you.

"Again." He demands, bending back over for you.

"I don't think so." Jimin states, continuing until the strap on flops out of the elder boy's entrance. "Bad boys don't get to demand things." Jimin leans over and gives Namjoon's cock a harsh tug, eliciting a whimper from Namjoon. "Get on your back." Jimin commands, soaking your center even more.

Namjoon obeys, moving the pillow that was under his hips before rolling over to lay on his back, his cheeks and chest flushed a bright pink.

"Jimin, what about you?" You question, having felt his erection against your ass since you slipped inside Namjoon.

"Oh we're getting to me baby." Jimin instructs you to lean over Namjoon, which you happily do, placing your lips on Namjoon's for a sweet kiss until he slips his tongue into your mouth with a soft groan. You feel Jimin shifting your body and Namjoon's until he has you where he wants you both, and with Namjoon's legs around your waist, Jimin slides the strap on up to the elder boy's entrance before nudging your hips forward.

Namjoon whines as you slide into him again, gasping into your mouth as his back arches off the bed. You go slow, allowing him to adjust again as you hear Jimin rustling around behind you, telling you to wait for him. However, Namjoon gets impatient and begins to squirm beneath you.

"Y/N-ah, please..." He begs.

You shake your head. "Jiminie said to wait baby."

"But-"

You silence him with a kiss. "Be patient or you'll get nothing Joon."

This seems to work, and with a firm pout on his lips Namjoon leans back in silence. Thankfully, you feel Jimin's hands on your waist a few moments later.

"Mm, look at how wet you are babygirl." Jimin purrs, his fingers swiping up the inside of your thigh to collect your juices as they drip down your legs. "And you're being so good."

"Th-thank you." You mumble. Jimin brings his hand down harshly on your ass, causing both you and Namjoon to groan as your hips twitch.

"Now take a deep breath for me princess." Jimin coos. You inhale deeply feeling Jimin scooting up behind you, but just as you go to exhale, you feel something cold begin to breach your own puckered rim.

"Jimin-!" You choke as he presses his cock into you.

"Relax." He whispers. You whine as you try to relax the lower half of your body, resting your forehead on Namjoon's shoulder. "Damn noona." Jimin chuckles. "You're taking me right in. You're always such a good girl."

You're panting at this point as Jimin just seems to get thicker and thicker as he pushes into you until finally he's completely inside you with a satisfied groan. You, on the other hand, are a little too satisfied, with Namjoon's sweet whimpers mixed with the vibrator's buzzing, and now Jimin's thickness filling you up, you explode. Your body is thrown into an unexpected orgasm and you cry out as your body shakes, the orgasm not entirely fulfilling as it quickly fades away.

Namjoon sits up a bit in confusion. "Did she just...?"

"Yeah." Jimin nods. "Holy shit, noona are you alright?"

"I'm... okay." You state. "I just wasn't expecting it."

"Do you want to keep going?" Namjoon asks, cupping your cheek.

Your eyes focus on his sweet, concerned face. "You're not getting out of this that easily." You smirk before pulling back and smacking your hips into him, eliciting a sweet moan from the unsuspecting boy.

You relax a bit, relinquishing control to Jimin who moves your hips for you with the force of his own thrusts. You love the way Jimin has taken over the situation, getting to be the dominant one for once. You also can't get over the sight of Namjoon beneath you like this; his face contorted in a delicious display of pain and pleasure, but after your unexpected orgasm, the feeling isn't really fulfilling to you, and without realizing it, your mind begins to drift.

The boys must notice this as it's only a matter of seconds before Namjoon's hands are on your breasts and Jimin's hands on your ass, both boys squeezing tightly, jolting you out of your thoughts with a gasp.

"What's wrong noona?" Jimin asks. "Not enough?" He slips a hand between your legs beneath where you're currently joined to rub his fingers up your slit. You shake your head with a slight pout. "What do you want then, hm?" He slows his thrusts. "Tell me what you want baby."

His words send a searing heat to your core as your cheeks flush a bright shade of pink. You can't lie, you would do anything to be filled up by one, or both, of their thick cocks. "I-I want you to replace this vibrator." You whimper.

"Oh yeah??"

"Either of you, really. I j-just... I want to be filled."

"Me too." Namjoon whines.

"You're so needy my loves." Jimin smirks, obviously pleased by how much you both want him. He carefully pulls out of you and takes off the condom he was wearing before grabbing a new one and rolling it on. He then grabs the vibrator where it sits inside you and slides it out, making sure to rub it against your clit, the strap-on, and then against Namjoon's perineum before turning it off and tossing it on the nightstand.

Jimin guides you out of Namjoon and helps you out of the strap-on before nudging Namjoon up onto his knees and then taking the elder boy's place on the bed. You want nothing more than to straddle Jimin's lap and sink down onto him, but you have a feeling his length is going inside Namjoon this time.

Sure enough, he waves Namjoon over. "Are you sure you're ready for this Joonie?" He inquires.

Namjoon nods fervently. "I-I want to feel you."

Jimin smiles and pats his thighs, signaling Namjoon to sit. The older boy obeys, straddling Jimin's lap obediently. Jimin squeezes Namjoon's waist before looking over at you. "Help me get him situated and then we'll get to you baby." He promises. You nod, moving up and grabbing Jimin's hardness in your hand before aligning him with Namjoon's entrance. Just to be safe, you grab the lube off of the nightstand and squirt a generous amount onto Jimin's cock, making sure it's nice and slick for Namjoon.

You press the head of Jimin's cock against Namjoon's rim, signaling him to begin his descent. "Take your time." You whisper in his ear. Namjoon nods as he begins to sink down onto Jimin.

Surprisingly, Namjoon gets halfway down before he has any trouble, but from your own experience, you know that's Jimin's widest point and breaching it can be difficult. You whisper sweet words of encouragement in his ear as Namjoon pants lightly, stopping briefly before pressing on.

When Namjoon bottoms out, a deep growl escapes from his throat as his ears twitch a top his head, his tail flicking in concentration.

"You're doing so good Joonie." You praise, rubbing his waist below Jimin's fingers.

"Damn... You feel good Joon." Jimin grunts. "How is it baby?"

Namjoon nods, his eyes closed as he focuses on the feeling. "G-good... "

"Perfect." Jimin smiles. "Stay put for a minute, yeah? Let yourself adjust." Namjoon simply nods again. "Y/N, come here baby."

You happily obey, moving up to Jimin's side and quickly straddling him like he asks. You lean down toward his face and then he helps you scoot yourself back towards Namjoon. As soon as Namjoon feels your core brush against his length, his eyes open and he groans at the sight of you before him; dripping wet and begging to be fucked.

"Hyung go ahead and slip into our sweet Y/N here; she waited so patiently for your cock."

Namjoon quickly obeys, adjusting your hips to his liking before pushing his length into you, both of you letting out a satisfied moan. Jimin rubs your waist soothingly before reaching up to fondle your breasts, pinching your nipples and causing you to clench around Namjoon.

"Shit, jagiya..." Namjoon gasps.

"Alright Joon." Jimin relaxes against the bed, folding his arms behind his head. "Get moving. I wanna watch you fuck yourself on my cock."

Namjoon nods, steadying himself before beginning to move his hips. it takes him a minute to find the right way to move, but he figures out that the best way is to move his hips in a forward circular motion, thrusting into you as he moves his hips up and pulling out as he sinks down on Jimin's cock, leaning back a bit with one hand on your lower back, and the other behind him on Jimin's thigh for support.

Namjoon has started panting heavily from the stimulation, and honestly, you and Jimin aren't faring much better. The constant upward motion of Namjoon's hips with every thrust has him pressing into your g-spot everytime, and Jimin's tight grip on your waist tells you he's feeling the same way.

A sweet, repetitive chorus of moans fills the bedroom as the three of you get lost in the pleasure, and it isn't long before Namjoon is the first to go. His thrusts pick up their pace, his moans turning to high pitched whimpers as he chases his high, but is only met with disappointment when he reaches his second dry orgasm. He gasps for breath and whines loudly when he doesn't get the release he was craving, but then immediately starts moving his hips again in desperation.

"Noona, do you think two is enough?" Jimin asks. "He's starting to look a little pathetic."

You sit up a bit and look over your shoulder at Namjoon to see just how fucked out he looks, fucking you and himself relentlessly now as his eyes plead with you.

"Mm. I guess so." You nod. "Joonie you can take the cock ring off now."

"Thank you." He whimpers, pulling out of you just long enough to slip the ring off be from plunging back inside you and picking up his pace again. He groans at the feeling of having nothing holding him back and he quickly reaches his peak again, moaning loudly as he slams into you and finally feels the sweet release he's been so desperate for. Namjoon fills you with his hot release, coating your walls as he shivers, but he keeps going, his hips never stopping. "I-I need one... one more." He whines. " Jiminie I want... I want you to fill me. I want to feel it."

Jimin smirks. "Of course baby. I'm close so lift your hips for me?"

Namjoon does and Jimin slips out of him before sliding out from underneath you and situating himself behind Namjoon who practically falls on top of you as he bends over for Jimin.

Jimin grabs Namjoon's hips and quickly pushes into him, fucking the elder boy, and consequentially you, into the mattress. Jimin wasn't lying when he said he was close , it's only a few thrusts before Jimin is ripping the condom off and stroking himself.

"Spread." This one word command has Namjoon immediately reaching back with one hand to spread his cheeks apart as Jimin leans forward, and with an angelic moan, empties himself into Namjoon's waiting entrance.

"Fuck yes." Namjoon groans, relishing in the feeling.

"Mm, you look good dripping like this." Jimin pants, giving Namjoon's ass a nice smack. "Now let noona finish." He orders.

Namjoon quickly turns his attention back to you, slipping out to roll you onto your back before plunging back inside. His hips move fast, chasing his final release as he pounds into you.

"You like watching Jiminie fuck me? Hm? Like it when he fills me up?"

"Fuck yes." You gasp. "It's so hot."

"Now it's my turn to fill you up. You want my cum princess?” Namjoon growls. “Want me to put my pups in your sweet little pussy?"

"God, yes~"

"You have to cum for me first." His hand finds its way down between your legs where his thumb presses harshly into your clit.

"Oh fuck, Joon~!" You cry out as your body convulses, throwing you into a harsh, heavy orgasm.

"That's my girl." You hear him say before he follows you into bliss.

It's a few moments before you come to, with Namjoon crushing you as he lays on top of you, and Jimin laying next to you, just smiling at the both of you. When Jimin sees you come to, he rolls Namjoon off of you and then snuggles up beside you.

"Are you alright jagiya?" He asks, stroking your hair.

"Mm." You nod contentedly. "That was fun."

"Good. Joon?"

"I'm good." Namjoon responds, his face buried in a pillow.

Jimin's eyes crinkle up as he smiles. "Stay here, I'll go get a bath started." And with that he gets up off the bed and disappears into the bathroom. You soon hear the sound of water running, but it takes Jimin a bit longer to come back out than it usually does. He eventually reappears in his robe, helping you and Namjoon up off the bed and into the bathroom where the sight before you takes your breath away.

The tub is filled with bubbles, the room lit by soft candlelight just bright enough for you to see the trail of flower petals on the floor. The subtle scent of jasmine fills the air; one of Namjoon's favorite calming scents; and though your legs ache terribly, the only thing you can feel right now is an overwhelming amount of love.

"What's this?" You question as Jimin leads you to the bathtub.

Jimin only smiles. "Get in my loves."

You and Namjoon quickly slip into the warm water, eager to see what this is all about. As you settle in, leaning back against Namjoon's chest, Jimin sits on the edge of the tub.

"I've been trying to figure out the right time to do this for months, but the timing always felt off." He mumbles. "But tonight feels... It feels right." Jimin reaches into the pocket of his robe and pulls out a small box. "I've always loved the two of you... With all my heart. And I know, at least I think I know that you love me too." You and Namjoon both nod. "Good. Well, I'd like to spend the rest of my life knowing that you love me. So um... I-I was wondering. Will you marry me?"

Jimin opens the box in his hand to reveal two small gem encrusted silver rings. Your heart catches in your throat as tears well up in your eyes.

"Are you serious?" You mumble.

"Y-yes." Jimin nods.

"Yes!" You and Namjoon both squeal at the same time. You go to give Jimin a hug, but accidentally pull him into the tub with you, causing water to go everywhere , but you couldn't care less.

The three of you burst out laughing when you suddenly hear fireworks going off in the distance and then you near Namjoon's watch beep on the counter.

"Already?" You ask. "It's midnight?"

Namjoon nods. "Must be."

"What a perfect start to the year." Jimin adds.

"I can't wait to marry you. Both of you." You lean over and give both boys a kiss.

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angelbrock · 4 years ago

Text

dancing with the demons -the fallen angel

summary: a mischievous 21year old girl dies from a crime she committed, finding her way and new journey to hell and warmly welcomed into the arms of the fallen angel.

warnings: can be graphic- lots of swearing- mentions of death!

pairing: colby x reader!

masterlist

your point of view

you laughed, flipping off the cop cars that chased your car down as you sped through the road. dodging cars, maniacally giggling as adrenaline pulsated through your veins. your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, speeding through the busy california traffic. good girl gone bad is what some may call it, but what you called it was purely living life to the fullest.

what you had done was quoted, “the funniest thing anyone could ever do”. out of all crimes you had committed throughout your years, this one by far was the worst one of all. you had thrown eggs at your annoying neighbours’ windows, spray painted over shops’ glass, drank underage and drove, but this one. oh boy.

you had not only vandalised a police officer’s car with sharpies, but you broke their walkman machine; which you still think was an accident - so not only were you going to get charged, you were about to be sentenced six months in jail. six months because of all the crimes you had committed. however, you were unbothered.

you were determined to escape them, only adding onto your thrill. but, your plans suddenly changed. the second you swerved left, a truck came at the fastest speed towards you. you tried to react as quickly as you could, even though it was completely pointless. the truck had already struck into your side of the car.

your car flipped, your head banged against the steering wheel, your vision went blurry. your heartbeat quickened, then weakened just as quickly. you shot yourself one last smirk before your eyes shut completely.

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

you slowly opened your eyes, fluttering as you did so, then squinting almost immediately towards the brightest light you had ever encountered in your entire life. you sighed in relief, “thank god it was a dream.” you whispered to yourself, rubbing your eyes as you sat up slowly; groaning.

“are you sure about that?” a female voice called out soon after you spoke. your eyes widened, jumping back to the unknown old lady. you stammered, “i know what you’re thinking. ‘where am i’, am i correct?” you slowly nodded, your eyebrows heavily furrowed. “this my dear, is the afterlife.”

your mouth fell agape. “what..?” she nodded in response, “d-did i really die?”

“unfortunately sweetheart.” she reached out a hand for you to grab, you shakily took your hand in hers as she rubbed your back gently.

“am i in heaven?” she was silent for a moment. your non-existent heartbeat wanted to fall to the pit of your stomach as to how quickly she fell quiet.

“i’m afraid not my dear.” she soothingly spoke to you.

“wh-what?” is all you could say. your tongue felt dry and numb, you wanted to collapse, but you couldn’t let yourself fall weak. i never hurt anyone, why do i deserve to go to hell? i’ve never let anyone get to harm. what have i done. thoughts consumed your whole body. “b-but i never hurt anyone..”

“i’m sorry, honey. fate decides these things. unfortunately you have to be a part of the underworld.” you wanted to fight back and argue, but she placed her hand over your forehead, causing your eyes to instantly close. “it’s time to go, my dear. bless you.” suddenly, you were falling. you screamed at the top of your lungs, tears glistening in the air as they floated then melted away.

you fell for a long time, before finally landing on a hard surface. you jumped from the harsh impact, crying out as you reached for your stomach, blood dripping from your mouth. you wiped your nose and mouth, your blood being the first thing that you see. you, being incredibly sensitive to the sight of blood, felt dizzy within seconds before you fainted.

your eyes opened for the second time, groaning out in pain. “well, well, well. look who’s awake.” you were startled by the deep voice who spoke up. your eyes darted towards the direction of the voice,

“stop, don’t scare her.” a short girl scolded the boy. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“welcome to hell, y/n y/l/n.” the same deep voice guy spoke, smirking slightly.

“h-how do you know my name?”

“we know everything.” another man continued on,

“okay guys seriously stop, don’t scare her.” a brown haired girl huffed out. “sorry about them.” she apologised to you, giving the boys a glare.

“the big man is waiting for her, we should probably get going.” these strangers quietly spoke in front of you, as you weere not only freaked out, but were having a total anxiety attack in the middle of their small conversation. they all soon left the room, leaving you clueless and afraid.

soon enough, the doors opened roughly, slamming against the walls causing you to shriek from the impact. you squinted your eyes, trying to see the tall figure’s face. “good-morning princess.” you thought the other guy’s voice was deep? this man’s voice sent shivers down your spine, it was that deep. he slowly walked towards you, the sound of his shoes clinking against the floor was so loud. he turned his back to you, shutting the doors and locking it, the man and silence intimidating you.

you finally saw a glance at his face and, wow. ‘the big man’ as described came closer to you, crouching down and leaning his face towards you, making you flinch and turn away. “welcome to hell.” he smirked at you, his eyes gave off extremely evil intentions. what else did you expect, you were in hell. it’s not sunshine and rainbows, it’s eternal suffering and endless pain. “when someone is talking to you, you make eyecontact.” his rough tone made you flinch once more, his fingers aggressively bringing your chin up to meet his face.

you gulped, “s-sorry..” you whispered, your voice broke off in between the one word you spoke.

“anyways, like i was saying, welcome to hell. my territory.” goosebumps rose on your skin when he said, ‘my territory’. he couldn’t possibly be...

“are you..” a smirk slowly rose on his lips,

“the fallen angel?” he mocked the saying, “yes princess, i’m the devil, lucifer, whatever the fuck you want to call it, i don’t really care.” you furrowed your eyebrows to let that sink in.

first, you committed a crime, second, your car gets hit by a truck, third, you acutally died, fourth, you didn’t go to heaven, and lastly, the devil is sitting an inch away from you. what the fuck. you felt like fainting again. “woah..” you mumbled out, your eyes slightly rolling to the back of your head. his arm went to your side, forcing you to sit upwards.

“this is your third time fainting. can’t you just suck it up?” your hands reached to your head, your breath being shaky as tears stung your eyes.

“why am i here..” you spoke more to yourself than to him. he scoffed, rolling his eyes, rubbing his temples.

“you pathetic humans give me a headache.” he grumbled out, clenching his jaw. “fate, fate is why you’re here. believe me, if i wanted to drag you down here for no reason, i fucking would. no hesitation. but you’re too much of a baby for me to mess with. so i’d get bored too easily.” he stood up. “this is your room from now onwards. and don’t fucking complain about it either. you’re lucky that i didn’t throw you into a pit of dispair as soon as you got here.” he opened the doors, walking out, “enjoy your stay, forever.” his tone was more evil than you had ever heard. he slammed the doors shut, you could hear it lock from the outside.

why is this happening to me? why didn’t i just get thrown into an endless blackhole of suffering? isn’t the devil supposed to be this ugly, demonic looking creature? i’d rather die a second time than be here. the amount of questions you had was unbelievable. you fell back against the bed, why the fuck is there a bed in hell. another thought pondered your mind, covering your face with your hands as tears slowly slipped out.

“what is happening to me... please be a dream, please be a dream, please be a dream.” you hadn’t even realised that you had cried yourself to sleep.

A/N: i really hope you guys enjoyed part one! i’m so excited about this series, i have some really good ideas for this. also working on another series called ‘sweet and sour’ for a while now, let me know if you want me to upload those too! thank you for reading and leave any requests for some imagines if you like! part two is coming out soon! love you all <3

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock series #colby x reader #colby brock imagines #traphouse imagines #traphouse #masterlist

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Imagine:

The reader having an office fling with Erik/Work Hubby

Warnings: SMUT

It’s gonna be two parts because it’s really long and detailed to start. LIKE & REBLOG

You wake up on a Monday morning after enjoying your short weekend to start another 9-5 workweek. Even though a part of you wished that you could work from home another part of you wanted to go into the office so you could see Erik. Your work boyfriend. On Saturday you got your hair done in some knotless box braids, went to the spa, and did a little bit of shopping for some new office attire. Today you decided to wear some of that office attire. Nude wrap skirt, a mauve colored wrap top with bell sleeves and some So Kate pumps in a nude color. Your boyfriend and Erik shared the same name but instead, your boyfriend’s name was spelled with a “C”, not a “K”. That boyfriend in question was a personal trainer and vlogger who traveled to try different restaurants mainly in Cali and NYC. He took a two week trip to NYC with a group of his guy friends. You were used to it and grew not to care so much about it. He was living his life to the fullest.

But were you living your life?

Working as a Secretary for an Environmental Technology company that makes billions of dollars gave excellent pay. The money is good but the only thing to look forward to is your gossiping friend Regina who sat in a cubicle directly next to you and Erik, the Lead Environmental Engineer who was also a Biomedical Engineer. He’s charming, witty, mesmerizing, attractive, hardworking, can be very headstrong at times, loves ramen, and has a cat named Paws. Erik with the “K” has you blushing whenever he locked eyes with you, stuttering while you both have random conversations during tea and coffee breaks, texted you funny memes during meetings when you were supposed to be taking notes, instant messages you from his cubicle computer to bug you saying things like:

-Wyd big head?

-Did Eric with the “C” see you leave the house today in that short ass skirt?

-Connie keeps talking to me with her funky ass breath. Help me 🥺.

-So, when are you going to boss up and get an office? I wanna be next to my work bae.

-You wanna get lunch together? My treat. It’s a surprise.

-I know you and Regina are gossiping about me 😌.

-I missed you after work yesterday.

He’s also the reason why you stayed later on Wednesday and Thursday nights. You would help him brainstorm ideas about improving pollution and what he should say in his speech about global issues such as climate change. He even asked you if you wanted to come with him to Alaska to test the water there but you hadn’t given him an answer yet. You really really wanted to but being alone with Erik wasn’t such a good idea. You were afraid to be in another location besides LA with him for reasons you’d rather not admit to.

After making Erik and yourself an egg white and veggie omelet with a Belgian waffle you headed out the door and to your Prius. Arriving at the office on time, you badge in and take the lobby elevators up to the fifth floor. Stepping off of the crowded elevator, you walk towards the newly decorated staff lounge to put away the food. It was 8:25 am and Erik wouldn’t be in for another ten to fifteen minutes. The lounge had Dunkin Donuts laid out and freshly brewed coffee. You fought the temptation of grabbing a chocolate glazed donut to go to your cubicle and boot your Mac desktop computer so you could check your company email. You said Goodmorning as you walked by. Regina was playing Candy Crush on her cell when you arrived.

“Goodmorning, Gina.” You placed your Chanel bag behind the desktop computer in your cubicle.

“Morning, sis,” Regina tapped away on her phone, “Did you sleep okay?”

“Better this time around, yes,” You flipped your box braids over your shoulder while leaning back in your office chair to talk to Regina, “I haven’t heard from Eric all weekend.”

“Which one?”

You pursed your lips, “You know which one.”

She laughs, “Erik with the C. What’s up with that?”

You shrug, “Don’t know and don’t care. He acts like he can’t answer my calls or texts so I can check up on him so I’ll act like he doesn’t exist.”

Regina gave you a knowing look, “I’m sure you and Erik with the K, aka Captain Planet, texted his work bae, Miss Y/N, all weekend long.”

You bite your bottom lip to fight a goofy smile.

“See,” Regina crosses her dark chocolate legs, “he’s not just your work bae. He’s Daddy.”

“Stop!” You throw a pen at her chest, before lowering your voice, “Erik and I are not having sex, Gina. We may flirt and text outside of work-“

“And during work hours,” Regina interjected.

“Like I said, we are not having sex-“

“Who’s not having sex?”

Regina and your head turned to stare up at Erik Stevens. He had his briefcase in one hand and a black coffee with extra brown sugar in his other hand. Tailored suit colored navy blue with gold cuff links. Burberry dress shoes on his feet. Vintage gold-plated oval eyeglasses over his onyx eyes. He gave Regina and you a teasing smile. The smile where he raised one corner of his mouth to reveal a single deep dimple.

“Y/N,” Regina answered with wide playful eyes.

“Oh?” Erik gave Y/N a mournful look, “Damn, ma. That’s too bad.”

You glare at them both, “I will ignore both of y’all the rest of the day if you keep fucking with me.”

You got up from your seat, pushing in your chair, and tried your best to ignore the snickering from them both. Walking away, Erik was right on your tail, his hand reaching out to grab your shoulder to stop you.

“Calm down, it’s all jokes,” he licks his full lips, “But seriously...no sex between you and your man?”

Groaning, you walk into the lounge to grab the food.

“Why are we having this conversation?”

“Because I’m concerned,” Erik turned his back to lean against the counter with his arms folded over his chest, “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You place his food inside the microwave to heat, “I know. It’s just embarrassing, Erik.”

Erik grabs your chin to make you stare at him instead of the microwave, “Don’t even give me that excuse. Remember, we shared a lot of embarrassing stories in this office after hours.”

How could you forget?

“Yeah...it’s boring, Erik. I’m sure you’re having the best sex of your life in your fancy penthouse. Probably having orgies with models and actresses. They love a sweet and caring guy,” Y/N said sarcastically.

Erik’s tongue grazes the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling, “Why orgies specifically?”

“Is that all you focused on?!!” You shove him before taking his food out, “gosh, I hate you.”

Erik takes a swig of his coffee, “which is girl code for gosh, I love you,”

You shook your head with a grin, “leave me alone.”

“Which means, give me attention,” Erik grabs both of your shoulders, before bringing his head around to plant a kiss on your cheek, “I know y’all female dictionary like the back of my hand.”

Your head turned to face him after his lips caressed your cheek. Now, that area was warm and ticklish. Erik grabs his food and walks over to one of the tables. That gave you some time to breathe and heat your food as a distraction. Why did he have to kiss you? It’s not like he’s never done it before but every time he did it, Erik made you melt and wish it were your lips instead.

“You make some bomb food, girl. I think I’m jealous of Eric with a C.”

“Says the guy who makes the best shrimp and grits I have ever tasted besides my grandma,” you take a seat in front of him. While you ate you watched him cut into his waffle covered in syrup. His long lashes curled each time he blinked and his lips were so pouty and kissable whenever he concentrates the way he does. You felt like a schoolgirl watching him eat.

“So,” Erik chews his food some more before talking, “Alaska.”

“What about it?” You play it off by cutting your omelet up.

“Y/N,” Erik raised his brow at you, “You know about Alaska this is my fourth time bringing it up.”

“When is it?”

“In a month,” Erik takes a swig of his coffee to wash down his food before leaning forward on his elbows to make you look at him, “it’s gonna be for a week, all paid for, a mini-vacay with skiing, Matanuska Glacier walk, and lunch, helicopter tour, cozy cabin...”

Erik tilted his head at you and smiled. You looked down at your food bashfully. It all sounded so tempting. You would love to go...

“I don’t know, Erik,” you shake your head, “Eric will be home and-“

“How many trips does he take leaving you home?”

“More than I can count,” you reply shamefully.

“Exactly. I ain’t tryna overstep but...” Erik left it at that and went back to his food. You slouch in your chair deep in thought. Erik has a point. Your boyfriend traveled whenever he pleased and didn’t even ask how you felt about it once. You respected that he wanted to drop his career as a teacher to travel, eat, and vlog. Not once did he suggest taking you on one of his food journeys. You honestly felt left out.

You deserve some fun too.

Moving your food around with your fork, you finally come to a decision.

“I’ll go.” You spoke softly as if you couldn’t believe you’d just agreed to it.

“Seriously?” Erik asked with his eyes unblinking and on yours.

“Yes,” you let out a breath, “I’ll go to Alaska and have some fun for once. I haven’t been out of town in so long it’ll feel good to go.”

Alaska with Erik Stevens. For an entire week. Just you and him. Your knees shook under the table.

“See,” he smirked while stabbing a piece of omelet with his fork, “It’s crazy how I had to ask your ass four times total to come with me.”

“Why is that crazy?” You asked with a laugh.

“Because it never takes a woman this long to say yes to me,” he says in a very boastful manner.

“I’m not your woman though,” you say before you could even stop yourself.

“You are my woman,” Erik rested his tongue on his upper lip before grinning, “just at work and without the sex, kissing, taking showers together-“

“Okay, you made your point, boyfriend.” You stop him before he continued.

“Does Eric know about me?”

“A little,” you look towards the ceiling, “ he’d probably cancel all his travel plans if he knew how you looked.”

Erik bit into his bottom lip, “how do I look, Y/N?”

“Fine as hell,” you giggle as if you were drunk, “He already thinks he’s the finest thing walking.”

“That’s your man though,” Erik chuckles, “You think he’s fine, right?”

“I mean, yeah, of course.”

Both of you laugh.

“I swear,” you wave him away, “you play too much.”

“Don’t make me steal you away from him.” Erik laughed. His laugh made your stomach do summer salts.

“Okay, Erik,” you speak in a dismissive tone.

“I mean, I could though.”

“Why do you insist on playing?! If I was single-“

“You would be mine,” Erik finished.

“You can have any woman you want. Why me?”

Erik scanned your body at that table, “Really? What you mean? Have you seen yourself, ma?”

“Stop,” you giggle. He can’t be serious. Erik is a flirt but why on earth would he play like this?

“You always think a nigga playing when I say that shit.” He sounded offended. You didn’t have a reply for that. Avoiding his intense eyes you finished your food while Erik closed his empty container and placed it on the counter next to the thermal lunch bag you brought the food in.

“Aight let me get to my desk,” he grabs his coffee and walked up towards you. Erik moves your box braids from your shoulder before grabbing the back of your neck gently. The feel of his smooth fingertips on your skin made the hairs on the back of your neck and arms rise.

“I’ll see you later, babe.”

You blush with a mouth full of food, “Okay, I’ll see you later too, baby.”

His fingers left your neck and combed through your box braids before he walked away and out of the lounge. You were so preoccupied with his fingers on the back of your neck and in your hair that you lost your appetite.

——

You stood at Regina’s cubicle halfway listening to her speak and the other half focusing on Erik in his office. He looked bored as hell. Your eyes watched him ball up random printer paper from his fax machine to shoot into his document waste basketball hoop that he had in the corner near the door. He made it perfectly every time. Erik had the coolest office out of all the other Environmental Engineers. Besides the typical Newton’s Cradle pendulum balls that’s a famous desk accessory, he had a tropical tabletop fountain, stress relief visual illusion toys, stainless steel pin art hand mold, darts, a Rubik’s cube, Nintendo switch, and many other cool and fun shit.

“Girl,” Regina said chewing on a granola bar, “You’re not even paying attention to me.”

“I am,” You allow your eyes to fall on her accusatory ones, “I’m just...looking around.”

“No,” Regina puts up a hand to stop you, “You’re looking at Erik.”

Both Regina and yourself look over at him, spotting Erik walking back and forth now with his suit jacket removed and the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up. He was finger juggling a pen with his right hand while speaking into a Bluetooth in his ear.

“You might as well let him ruin you, Y/N,” Regina says with a whisper.

“Oh my God, Gina,” you stomp across the carpeted floor in your pumps before taking your seat again to finish organizing in Microsoft Excel.

“He could flirt with any other woman in here. Connie, Demetria, Anita, Nicole, any of those chicks, but he chooses you. Why is that, Y/N?”

“I don’t know, Gina, enlighten me,” You roll your eyes.

“No need. You already know. Erik is feeling you, heavy baby. Heavy like that ass in that skirt that we both know you purposefully wore today to make him look.”

“OKAY.” You stop her with an abrupt tone, “Fine. Yes, Gina. Yes, I know Erik is feeling me. But I am in a relationship and I can’t just-“

“Heffa, please,” Regina laughs, “don’t even try that shit with me. You are feeling him just the same. You and Eric with the C don’t even exist when you walk in here. It’s obvious you don’t want to be with that man anymore and I wouldn’t be surprised if he is fucking some chick in NYC and secretly taking her on his little food quests. You can look at me like that all you want but deep down you know I’m speaking facts.”

“Gina,” you speak with a warning, “I will throw this stapler at your head next.”

“Won’t. Change. The. Truth,” Regina flips her long ponytail.

A part of you did believe that Eric was cheating on you. It was so obvious at times but you didn’t want it to come to that. You and Eric have been together for about five years. But then again, that shit doesn’t matter. If it did, he would be worried about fixing the relationship instead of traveling for views.

Ping Ping

-Here comes Connie. Let me take a big gulp of air before she walks in here.

Erik instant messaged you. You snicker like a child doing some sneaky shit. He was so damn goofy.

-Damn. Why don’t you just offer her some gum?

-If I do that she’ll know I think her breath stink.

-Just play it cool. Have some sitting out, grab a piece, and offer her a stick. It’s that simple.

-she talks too damn much. Just talk to me about the Alaska job so I can be prepared. That’s why I’m glad you’re coming with me.

You looked up over your cubicle to watch Connie talking animatedly while Erik swivels in his chair from side to side.

Catch my eye.

Onyx met chestnut.

Erik covered his mouth with his fist to hold in his laughter before placing his hand up at Connie, from what it looked like, to reassure her that he wasn’t laughing at what she’d said.

-want me to drag her out of there by that takky blouse?

-Why are you such a gangsta, girl? LOL aight, come handle my light work, ma

-not before I get a hospital mask so I don’t breathe in her toxic fumes. Llab

-😂😂😂😂😂 straight stupid.

You snicker again.

“What is so damn funny?” Regina peered over at you with curious eyes.

“Just IM with Erik,” you bite the gel acrylic on your thumb nail to smother your giggles, “He can’t stand Connie.”

“Mhm,” Regina smiles, “y’all so damn cute just get married already.”

-she’s gone 😁

-let's celebrate lol.

Erik sends fireworks through the IM. You send balloons.

-enough about her. I see you 👀

-what’s that?

-you showing off. That attire is hella tight. What you doing with all of that?

-nothing. Lol, why do I have to be doing something?

-I know you wore that for my eyes only. I feel special.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. He was going down that lane. You weren’t prepared but still, you typed away.

-I figured you would appreciate it since my man wasn’t home to admire it before I left.

-Yo’ nigga got some screws loose because I wouldn’t be away letting my girl walk out the house like that.

-like what?

-with all that ass sitting in that skirt.

-can’t help that I have a lot to work with.

-ain’t no problem for me. If you were fucking with me Y/N I’d make you forget your name. Real talk.

You crossed your legs under the desk and rubbed the back of your neck. If he fucking bitches to make them forget their identities then that means his dick really ain’t nothing to play with.

-nothing to say huh?

-I’m just thinking.

-about what? Talk to me.

-why you really want me to come to Alaska with you.

-😌

-well? You’re gonna tell me why?

-Because I want you to myself.

-So I can show you something you’ve been missing.

-Eric ain’t putting it down on my work bae like he should be.

You were so damn nervous. Day by day Erik would grow more frustrated with Eric and your situation. Like Regina said, just let Erik ruin you. It’s a shame to say that you haven’t had sex in about a month. It was just you, your fingers, and your favorite vibrator. It could be Erik, his fingers, his dick, his mouth, and multiple orgasms.

-He’s not. It’s been too long. ☹️

-You ain’t gotta tell me how long. I can see it in your body language.

You twirl a braid in your hand. Looking away from your computer, you try to be discreet, bringing your eyes to peer over the top of your cubicle into Erik’s office. He was drinking a bottle of water while his eyes concentrated on the computer screen with knitted brows. He placed his bottle on the desk and leaned in, typing again.

Ping ping

-Don’t ignore me before I walk over there.

-ooooo I’m scared.

-Aight, bet. I’m coming.

-I want you to think long and hard about that, Stevens.

You were flustered, wet, shaken up that he wanted to “show you” what you’ve been missing, and willing to risk it all if he left his office space to come to talk to you.

-that’s what she said. 😈

You chuckle. He could turn any topic into sex.

“Hey, Erik,”

You look up to find him standing next to your cubicle while Regina looked at the both of you with interest. You stand from your seat, ready to get yourself some water but Erik has your shoulders.

“Where you going?” His husky voice tickled your ear.

“For some water.”

Erik starts massaging your shoulders lightly.

“Can I come with you? I need to stretch my legs.”

“Whatever, I don’t care.” You lead the way.

But you did care. You wondered what he was up to. Now that you walked ahead of him with that very tight wrap skirt on you felt exposed like he has x-ray vision and can see your phat dimpled cheeks bounce and sway. Thank God for an empty lounge. You walk over to the fountain, grabbing a cup, and Erik was right on your side, holding the tap down for you. Your cheeks poke out to hide your blush.

“Thank you,” you speak softly. His eyes were intent on you. Not once did you give in and look his way while drinking that ice-cold water. Suddenly unable to breathe you back up a little to make some space between you two. Erik followed with his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

“Don’t you have a ton of work to do?” You ask to try and divert the attention away from you. Too late. Erik was determined to make you weak in front of him.

“I do but we have a long day, ma. I’ll get it done. I just couldn’t stand being away from my work bae.”

You rub your fingers along the wet cup, “I’m convinced now that you only come to work to be near me.”

“I’m cool with that,” He shrugs, “I could be a whole lot of things if it wasn’t for your man who’s supposed to be home with you.”

“He’ll be back-“

“And then he’ll be gone again,” Erik let’s out a sigh, “We’re playing too many games, Y/N. I’m tired of the flirting back and forth when I know you really want me. Stop coming in here to impress me with these bomb-ass outfits. I’ve been impressed for over a year now.”

Erik closed the space between you both, pressing his chest against your fuller one. You look over his shoulder to make sure no one was coming and when the coast was clear you focused your heated gaze on him.

“I’m tryna undress you with my fucking hands, not my eyes.” Erik takes his fingers to play with the bow of your wrap skirt, “You feel what I’m saying?”

You couldn’t speak. Your eyes were to busy admiring this gorgeous man who wanted to fuck you. His inviting eyes saw exactly what you wanted. A long, hard, fuck. Taking his fingers, Erik grabs your chin delicately to stroke. He made you feel so precious and desired.

“So, can I do that?” Erik asked with his lips kissing along your jawline. Your eyes landed on the door to check it and still, no one was there.

“Can I take care of you, ma?”

Yes.

You had this look in your eyes, this look that said, please, Daddy, come fuck me. He smelled so damn good. So invigorating and moisturizing. You could make out a hint of exotic arabica coffee and coconut oil on the skin of his neck.

“No,” you lick your upper lip, “No, you can’t.”

His lips found yours. He swallowed that no with his full lips and tongue. Both of you knew that your answer was disbelieving when your hands came up to wrap around his neck. That was a green light for Erik. His hands came around your waist, and then down to cup your ass. He would alternate between rubbing your spine and making your cheeks bounce in his hands. Erik rests his chin on your shoulder so he could peer behind you to watch his hands squeezing all that ass on you. He would let it go and watch it bounce before slapping it lightly so he wouldn’t make a lot of noise. You felt your heart in your throat. Now, his crotch was pressed into yours. Long and hard indeed. Let’s not forget thick.

“You free tonight?” He whispered in your ear.

“Yeah,” you could feel him lifting you from the floor to sit your bottom on the counter. He was between your legs while your hands reach for his tie to tug on. It distracted you from being so nervous. His hands rested on your exposed upper thighs rubbing your warm skin in slow circles to sooth you. All he was doing was killing you. His touch was so soft and gentle but under all of that was a rough dominating grasp that you yearned for

You weren’t sure which throbbing you wanted to quiet more—the throbbing between your legs or the throbbing from your heartbeat against your chest. All those daydreams about rubbing your swollen pussy lips all over Erik’s face until you came. Now that the both of you crossed yet another line——the touching and kissing line, there was no telling what would happen next. Sex after hours in the office on his desk? Walks to the parking lot only to fuck in the back seat of his car? Happy hour on Friday evenings only to get drunk and have sex at his penthouse?

“Can I come over to keep you company?”

“I don’t know, E. This office fling situation can fuck with both of our jobs.” You nibble on your bottom lip the second his lips came into contact with your throat.

“Nobody gotta know,” his plush lips sought out yours again, “It can be our little secret, baby.”

“But what if someone does find out?”

“It won’t happen like that, trust me,” Erik grabs your hand to rest against his crotch. Erik was swelled to cum-inspiring proportions, making you want to finger-fuck yourself with mounting enthusiasm.

“Damn, Erik.” Now you were thinking about this office fling as a carnal delight after hours.

“I know, right? Imagine me walking around all day, watching you with these big titties...shapely legs...and round ass…”

You had the body, beauty, and brains. That meant that you seldom went unnoticed; especially not by Erik, your work bae. Your slant eyes and supple body reminded him of a jungle cat that, when tamed, purred like a kitten. He wanted to hear you mewl and whimper in his ear while his dick that was currently twisted and curved in his briefs bounced off the walls of your pussy. He could see the lust in your feline eyes how quickly you noticed his arched appendage. You were probably fantasizing about what wonderful things it could do for your G-spot.

“Keep looking at me like that and watch I finger-fuck this pussy right here,” Erik’s eyes went down to look at the Apple watch on his wrist, “It’s almost that time to eat. I’m tryna eat something else though…”

“Eat me?” You couldn’t control that slipping from your mouth.

“Slob on this yummy pussy,” his hand was between your legs now, caressing the outside of your saturated panties, “You gonna feed me?”

“Where?” You whisper.

“Shit, we can go to my car for lunch. I got tinted windows.” Erik was desperate to slide his tongue inside you.

“Erik, this is crazy.” You laugh faintly before he took your face into his hands, gazed into your eyes, and kissed you so urgently it felt as if you were floating away. You could think of nothing else but how good he made you feel. Erik explores your mouth with his tongue, not wanting you to miss an inch of how skilled he was using his mouth.

“You’ll be begging me to make this pussy feel good in a minute.”

You were relentless with your hands squeezing the weight of Erik’s curved erection in his black slacks. You really wanted to untuck his dress shirt, get down on your knees, and suck him with a wide-open mouth. Keep your mouth as wide-open as was physically possible—anxiously awaiting your reward.

“Don’t worry babe,” Erik gently pulls your hand away from his crotch, “wait for lunch and you can have me all to yourself, okay?”

———

You waited and waited. As soon as Erik left that lounge to go back to his desk a last-minute meeting was called and of course, you had to attend as well. Everyone got up from their designated spots to head to the conference room. You squeezed into the same elevator cart as Erik, moving to the back so you could be near him. On purpose, you settle in front of him. Erik’s hand reached out to play with your thick ass while you focused on your phone. That only lasted for about ten seconds because now you were on the 6th floor. Hungry for his touch again you allow everyone else to leave so he could slap your ass.

During the hour-long meeting, both of your eyes would meet and knowing smiles would appear on both of your faces. You didn’t like the fact that Demetria was seated next to him with her cleavage hanging out from her black blazer. She tried her best to make Erik notice her but he didn’t give a fuck about her thirsty actions.

It was well past lunchtime and most of the office had gone to either the food court in the building or outside to find something different to eat for a change. Your stomach was rumbling waiting for Erik. Groaning, you put your computer to sleep before grabbing your Chanel bag to leave for lunch by yourself. It wasn’t Erik’s fault, you knew that, but you couldn’t help being upset and sexually frustrated. No pussy eating or dick sucking in his G Wagon 550 SUV in a desert silver metallic color.

Eating alone was boring and lonely. You played with your Caesar salad and hardly even toughed the veggie lasagna. How were you supposed to feed your appetite when it was salivating for dick? You were so excited to finally hook up with Erik. Checking the time on your phone, you had about two hours left in your shift. You pack away the food and decide to save it for dinner tonight. Standing up, you push in the silver chair at the food court table, walking away with a click-clack of your So Kate pumps. You thumb the elevator button before slipping a piece of gum into your mouth. The doors open up and you enter, turning to watch them shut as your reflection appeared.

Ping ping

Erik -where did you go?

-To lunch. I was hungry.

Erik- Really? Why didn’t you wait for me?

-Because I was STARVING. Plus, you were busy.

Erik- I’m not busy anymore. Where are you now?

-Heading back upstairs.

Erik- I’ll wait for you.

-Erik, I have to go back to work!

Erik- fuck that you know what I want.

DING. Fifth Floor.

“Told you I’ll wait for you,” He smiles at you dangerously.

You almost swallow your gum the way he approached you. You and him, alone in that elevator. Erik kisses your lips, savoring the minty taste from the gum. He pulled back, taking his thumb to wipe the spit from his bottom lip. He turns around to press the 4th-floor button since that’s were the garage entrance was. Suddenly you were shaking in your pumps. It was really going to happen. Finally, your pussy wouldn’t feel painfully neglected. Finally, you could have the touch of a man on your body after an entire month.

“Are you okay?” Erik asked while looking down at you.

“Yeah, I’m cool,” you give him a reassuring smile.

DING. Fourth Floor.

Down a hallway and through the garage door you both went with your hand in Erik’s. You walk along the concrete ground as your ears took in the sounds of sirens and car horns honking in the middle of traffic. His G-Wagon was parked in a private spot. Erik took his keys out of his suit jacket and unlocked it with a click of a button, even started it up as well. You could hear the engine rumble. The large SUV vibrates as the sound of his radio playing blasted through the speakers. Erik opened the back door, reclining the backseats to lay flat like a bed. He takes off his suit jacket, tossing it in the passenger seat before turning to you, lifting you up, and sitting you in the back.

Once there, you take off your heels and place them far enough away so Erik and you could have plenty of space. Erik sat down, leaning forward to remove his shoes. After that, he unbuttoned his dress shirt before pulling it off and balling it up to toss at the front with his suit jacket. He finally turns, crawling his large chiseled body towards you with playful eyes.

“Is that pussy still as wet as it was earlier today? Can I taste that kitty?”

Erik pulled your legs, laying you down on your back. He was on his knees between your legs, opening them wide causing your skirt to lift and bunch around your waist. He came face to face with that phat puss covered in wet fabric. Your voice was stuck in your throat. Erik takes both of his masculine hands to pull down your already saturated panties, spreading open your legs further, and staring at that pink pussy coated with cream. He could smell your scent. His car smelling like your wet pussy.

“Yeah, this pussy still sloppy,” Erik listened to you purr as he flicked your clit with his thumb. Erik continues to do this while slapping your pussy with his fingers. Each time he slapped your pussy, your juices would build and build to the point of making puddles beneath your ass in his car.

“Can I stuff this pussy with my fingers now,” Erik licked his thick fingers clean, “I wanna squeeze in there deep, baby girl.”

“Yes,” Your cunt was starving.

“Good, girl.”

He plunged first one, then two, then three fingers deep inside your pussy, flickering at your clit at the same time. He was directly over your G spot with the pads of his fingers repeatedly rubbing you there. Your legs went wider and wider. The sound of your succulent pussy increased in such severity that it was almost deafening. Your moans mixed with the sound of The palm of Erik’s hand slapping your cunt each time he finger-fucked you had him grunting and groaning.

“Faster, faster,” You called out while gyrating your hips to fuck his fingers.

“There you go, fuck my fingers, just like that, get it, baby,” Erik bites his lip, “look at you ready to bust a nut on my hand, mmm, get that shit, baby.”

A rush of juices flooded the back seat. Erik’s eyes grew wide as your fingers tightened around him. That liquid poured each time he moved his fingers inside of you. All you could do was moan and shake beneath him. Your ass was glued to that surface.

“Damn, Y/N.” Erik takes his fingers out slowly before licking them clean. He got up on his knees to reach into his trunk, bringing a Puma gym bag over towards him. He opened it with his wet hands, pulling out a thick black towel that was wrapped in a body wash. Erik places that towel beneath your ass to soak up your mess.

“Making a mess in my fucking car.”

“I’m sorry,” You cover your face with embarrassment, “I do that a lot.”

“Don’t apologize about that, ma, I don’t give a fuck. Keep doing it like that on these fingers. Better yet...do it like that on my tongue,” Erik laid flat on his stomach, “You can squirt in Daddy’s mouth too.”

Erik began lapping away at your pussy with such zeal that you were squirming and squealing within minutes. With the flat of his tongue, Erik assaulted your pussy with such a lashing that your legs turned to jello. Erik then probed ever so deeply inside your dripping wet pussy with his pointed tongue, tongue-fucking your slot until your eyes rolled up into your head. He found your throbbing, erect clit and tortured you sweetly with licks and nibbles that sent electric charges throughout your entire body. Grabbing your thighs to squeeze, feasting on that syrupy pussy, Erik’s dick dripped pre-cum in anticipation of your walls capturing his dick and holding tight, while he thrust himself deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Damn, ma, I’m literally drinking this pussy dry.”

“You make me feel so good! Make me feel good, Erik.”

Erik’s tongue circled around your pussy. Each time he did that your hips would jerk. He was fighting that pussy back with his lips and tongue each time you pumped your hips. You gazed into his dark, sexy eyes and increased the movement of your hips.

“Oh, fuck!” Erik wrapped his whole mouth around your pussy and started slurping. All Erik could think about was how good you tasted and the heat radiating from your pussy.

“Shit tastes so good, girl,” He licked his plate clean, “fuck, look at my dick.”

His shit was twisted and curved to the right in those pants. Erik got on his knees to undo his pants. He let out a long sigh of relief the minute his pants and briefs made it down his thighs, resting at his knees. He sat down and pulled the rest of his clothes off, now he was naked from the waist down. You watch his thick dick jerk in his hand. That dick looked like it could bench press a barbell with how hard he was as Erik slid his hand up and down his burgeoning erection. His dick skyrocketed to its highest capacity causing your mouth to drool. Erik pointed out that dick at your mouth. Doing that caused his slit to open and show you his pre-cum waiting to be sucked out.

“Come suck me, baby,” His grip was so tight on his dick.

You obeyed every word and sucked him up into your mouth. Damn, Erik was a big boy. So girthy and veiny. Intimidating for sure. His tip blossomed so thickly your lips had a hard time wrapping around it to suck. Erik with a C ain’t have nothing on this dick. A beautiful slab of tasty meat gliding across your tongue and poking the back of your throat.

“Damn, this is how you do it, ma? You should have warned a nigga first.”

He held the back of your head to guide your mouth lower. Each time he did that, he would grunt and whisper oh, my God, which made you super wet. All you wanted him to do was splatter your mouth with his cum. He was already so close to detonation so you opened up as wide as you could stretch to fill him all the way in.

“DAYUM!!!” Erik bellowed, “Good girl, don’t waste a fucking drop when I bust in this pretty mouth. Never.”

You graduated from plain old hungry to ravenous. That cum of his sputtering and spurting forth was your reward. The suctioning noise of your hand jerking him empty into your throat mixed with Erik’s deep moans made your pussy convulse around nothing even though you could feel it dripping. You slapped his ever-expanding dick against your tongue.

“Shit,” Erik looked from his wet dick to your face, “Baby girl, I ain’t cum this hard in a minute from getting head.”

You plant kisses all over his dick, working yourself up to more sucking, “I can give you more, Daddy.”

“Give me more of that mouth,” Erik played with your braids, “Swallow my shit and lick my balls.”

“Mmm, okay, Daddy.”

Erik’s eyes rolled back when your lips would suck and then pop off his sack. He had to control himself from cumming in your hair.

“Shit doesn’t make no sense,” Erik looked at you with disbelief before a strangled look filled with passion overtook his features.

“Fffuckkk!!!” He groaned as he blasted inside your mouth with his sweet, sticky offering. You ran your index finger over your bottom lip to retrieve a dollop of cum. That only left you more famished than before causing you to enthusiastically slurp on his rigid pipe again until it was damn near raw and your pussy was sopping wet.

“Y/N,” Erik’s fingers were tight in your hair. You tasted a bit of leftover cum from his slit with your hungry tongue.

Ring Ring

Erik’s cell was going off.

“Shit,” He reached into his pants pockets while you jerked his dick. He answered his phone with an annoyed expression.

“What’s going on, Greg,” Greg was a fellow Environmental Engineer, “What? Right now?” Erik closed his eyes before tossing his head back, “Okay, give me ten minutes.”

Erik hung up his phone.

“We gotta go, ma,” You could hear the disappointment in his voice, “Supposedly it’s something urgent about Alaska.”

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, “Should I be worried about the trip?”

Erik gave you a soft smile, “Nah, Alaska is happening regardless. Don’t worry, bae, we good.”

You pulled your skirt down and placed your wet panties in your bag. You watched Erik fasten his belt in place before he opened the back door to let some air in. You rose from the car, Erik helping you put on your pumps before placing you on your feet. Digging into your bag you sprayed yourself with a little of your Chanel No.5, hoping to camouflage the lingering scent of sex.

Looking in Erik’s rearview mirror, you fix your lipgloss and clothes, everything else good to go. Erik was currently spraying himself down with some Gucci cologne from his Puma gym bag and buttoning his suit jacket. He looked just as crisp as he did when he came in this morning.

“You still ain’t answer my question, beautiful.”

“What question,” Erik grabs your hand while the both of you walked back inside.

“Can I keep you company later?”

You chew on your bottom lip in thought. Eric with the C, your actual boyfriend, might call you later and you didn’t want Erik with the K to be around to raise suspicion. Still, no word from Eric and the longer that happened the more you didn’t give a fuck.

“Am I pressing too much?” Erik asks with soft eyes.

“No, no,” you reassured him, “I just think it would be better to come to your place instead. That’s all.”

“We can do that,” Erik walked towards you with his body pressed into yours, “Bring an overnight bag. You’re not going back home.”

His lips attacked your throat again, sucking and licking you there.

“I ain’t give my work bae some dick yet so you know I gotta take care of you,” His hands found their way back between your legs and on your sensitive pussy, “You gonna let me do that for you?” He asked huskily.

“Oh, Daddy, please do,” you responded.

————

You got home around 6:30 PM. You showered, finished the rest of your lunch since your appetite for dick was satisfied and drank a little bit of red wine.

Surprised, shocked, nervous, you decided to wear a black velour tracksuit with your Fenty slides to Erik’s place and packed away everything else you needed on a faux fur tote bag. Phone sitting on the charger, you go to check it since you received a few notifications since coming home.

Eric with the C.

Eric- I’m alright. Sorry for the lack of communication. Really busy.

-that’s okay. Be safe.

He didn’t respond back.

No I love you, I miss you, I’m thinking about you, nothing.

Luckily the picture Erik sent to you made up for that. It was a shower picture. From his broad shoulders down to his well-knit waist with that v cut covered in soap and water. You had the urge to satisfy the cries leaking from your pussy at the moment. You had half the mind to pull your pants down and finger-fuck your pussy into multiple orgasms leaving your slit covered in sticky cum for him to find. How dare he tease you like that? Since you were spending the night you can look forward to shower with him. This entire fling had your skin tingling. Your fingers scrolled down to read the texts he left you. You really wished you hadn’t because now you were whimpering.

Erik- Can’t wait for you to put that work in for Daddy.

Erik- where you at? I’m tryna put this thang in your gut.

Erik- want me to come to get you?

He was blowing you up. Eric with the C never did this.

-Hey, sorry, I was getting my things together. You don’t have to pick me up.

HONK HONK.

Erik- too late.

You walk to your living room to find Erik parked outside. He was typing away on his phone.

Ping Ping

Erik- Stop making me wait, girl.

You grab your bag, phone, and keys before locking up and leaving. Walking down your cobblestone trail, Erik hops out of his car, walking around to meet you. He was wearing a black Burberry ribbed beanie with a Pyer Moss color block Reebok windbreaker tracksuit on and the same brand of shoes on his feet. He tongued you down before taking your bag to place in the back seat that was now cleaned and placed normally. Erik opened your door to help you up inside before shutting it to return to the driver's side. You watched him walk all the way around and get inside with sultry eyes. With his hand on your upper thigh, he drove off and towards his Penthouse.

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra @thehomierobbstark @thee-germanpeach @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold @hearteyes-for-killmonger @goddessofthundathighs @njadakillthiscookie @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @dababydababydababydababy @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaa @blowmymbackout @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thadelightfulone @bugngiz @palmstreesallday @skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @nickidub718 @vikkidc @rent-emspoons @abluesforlyssa @abeautifulmindexposed

#Erik Killmonger #killmonger x reader #killmonger imagine #nahimjustfeelingit writes #killmonger smut

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dirtydobrik · 4 years ago

Text

fractured ankle - j.w.

plot: you break your ankle while on a hike with your boyfriend jeff and he wants to take care of you

word count: 1830

author’s note: sorry for not posting lately, i’ve had such bad writer’s block and didn’t like anything i was writing about david, so i decided to try something new and write about jeff!

masterlist

“Baby, get up,” Jeff whispered, nudging you softly. He was standing over you, already dressed for the hike he wanted to take you on.

It was still dark outside and you blinked rapidly as your eyes adjusted to the light of the bedside lamp Jeff had just turned on. You gave him a quick kiss and got out of bed, heading into the bathroom to get ready. You splashed cold water on your face to wake yourself up since you were never up this early, and the only reason you were was because Jeff had been begging you to come on an early morning hike to see the see the sunrise for a while now.

You brushed your teeth and changed into leggings and a sports bra before meeting Jeff in the kitchen. He was filling water bottles and gave you a small smile before tossing you a protein bar to eat before leaving. Jeff tossed the water bottles and a few other snacks into his backpack before glancing at the time on his phone and insisting that you had to leave in the next few minutes. You sat on the floor near the front door and tightly tied the laces of your sneakers, reaching your hand up for Jeff to help you up. He rolled his eyes at you, but took your hand in his and pulled you up.

You followed him downstairs and hopped into the passenger seat of his SUV. The roads were empty as darkness still covered the city. Jeff placed his hand on the gear shift and you rested yours on top of his. The stillness of the city was something you hardly ever saw, but it was comforting.

After a short drive, you pulled into the parking lot of the trail Jeff wanted to take you on. You got out of the car and followed Jeff's instructions of basic stretches to do to warm up before hiking.

Much to your dismay, the hike was a lot harder and steeper than Jeff had promised it would be. The path was windy and the plants were overgrown, leaving it narrow and difficult to navigate in the dim light.

Jeff was walking in front of you, and you carefully followed his steps. The steep dirt path had many large rocks that seemed to appear out of nowhere. You tried to focus on following Jeff's exact steps to avoid the rocks, but you lost your footing trying to avoid one. You stumbled backwards and fell over the large rock you had tried to avoid a few moments ago. Your left ankle got caught underneath you and you heard a loud snap as all of your body weight landed on your ankle. You yelped in agony as you tried to stand up before collapsing back on to the ground and grabbing your ankle in pain. Jeff was a few feet in front of you, but your screams gained his attention.

“Baby, are you alright?” Jeff asked, concerned as he sprinted over to you. His face went pale as he noticed the swelling around your foot. You clutched your ankle, sobbing from the immense pain.

“It hurts,” you whined, tears streaming down your face. "It really hurts."

“It’ll be okay,” Jeff promised, untying your sneaker and pulling it off. He pushed the hem of your leggings up to expose the ankle. You took in a sharp breath and felt nauseous looking at the bruising around your foot.

He searched through his backpack for an ice pack or an elastic bandage in his first aid kit, but had neither. He handed you a water bottle that had ice cubes in it and told you to take them out and wrap them in his t-shirt to hold against the swelling.

“Do you think you can walk?” he asked, even though he knew it was most likely broken. You shook your head, knowing you couldn’t, or shouldn't, put any weight on it.

Jeff paced back and forth, wondering what to do. You were nearly to the top of the hill, and the path was too steep for him to carry you down and too narrow for him to help hold you up as you hopped down.

It was still early so the trails weren't busy, meaning you probably wouldn't run into another hiker to help you out. Jeff picked you up and moved you off of the path, so you wouldn't be in the way if someone did happen to come up.

After half an hour and many failed calls from the lack of reception, Jeff decided he was going to have to carry you down. He had you put his backpack on and you managed to climb on to his back. You clung tightly to him, scared that he was going to drop you. When it got too steep, he had you stand on your good ankle and he would lift you from one clear spot to another.

You eventually made it back to the parking lot, and Jeff had you sit in the backseat to elevate your ankle. He drove you to the nearest hospital, stopping at a CVS to pick up some painkillers since you didn’t know how long you’d be waiting to see a doctor.

You draped your arm over his shoulder and hopped into the ER. Jeff helped you sit down before going to check in with the front desk. He returned with a clipboard of paperwork for you to fill out and a cup of coffee.

"You doing okay, baby?" Jeff asked, kissing your forehead. You nodded, even though the pain was insufferable.

After about an hour of waiting, you were brought over to an empty bed. The nurse checked all of your vitals and a little while later, the doctor came in.

"Well, it's definitely broken," the doctor said, pointing to the clean break in your bone on the scans. "You'll need surgery to realign the bone," he continued, and Jeff reached over to hold your hand as the surgery was explained to you.

Jeff promised he wouldn't go anywhere and kissed the top of your head before a team of nurses wheeled you off to prep you for surgery.

You woke up in a hospital bed a few hours later and Jeff was sitting by your side. Your leg was elevated and you had a cast around your ankle. A nurse came in to check on you a couple of times before the doctor came in to say they wanted to keep you overnight to monitor you post-op.

A few days after you were able to leave the hospital, you and Jeff were cuddling in his bed in his apartment. The contents of the suitcase you were now living out of were scattered across the floor of his bedroom. Jeff had insisted that you stayed with him, at least until you were confident using the stairs with crutches, since your apartment was on the fourth floor and your building didn't have an elevator.

“What are you doing?” you asked as Jeff pulled away from cuddling your to riffle through the drawer of his bedside table. A few moments later, Jeff revealed a thick black sharpie. He uncapped it and motioned for you to move the blanket so he could draw on your cast.

Your rolled your eyes at his childish behavior, but pulled the blanket off. You positioned yourself to be propped up against the headboard, placing a pillow under your cast. Jeff was on the other end of the bed, hoovering over your foot as he doodled mindlessly on the plaster.

You took your phone out to capture this moment, adding the picture to your Instagram story to let everyone know that you were in good hands with Jeff.

After a while, your cast was covered in small pictures and short notes. There was little room let for anyone else to write on it, but Jeff was pleased with his work.

You were restless all night, constantly tossing and turning, hardly able to get any sleep. Even though it was still early, you were wide awake and decided to try to make yourself breakfast. You swung your legs down, using the nightstand for support as you balanced on one foot. You reached for your crutches, determined to master using them today. You were tired of relying on Jeff for everything and wanted to be able to do things on your own. Your goal was to get from the bedroom to the kitchen without getting caught on anything or stumbling.

You let out a frustrated groan and threw one of your crutches on to the ground after the bottom of the crutch stuck to the wooden floor and you pushed yourself forward without having the support following you.

“What’s goin on, baby?” Jeff asked, stumbling out of the bedroom, still half asleep. He was holding a white t-shirt in his hands and was only wearing the pair of boxers he had slept in.

You were standing on one foot, the other kicked up behind you, holding on to the counter top for stability.

“Nothing,” you muttered, turning around and attempting to hop to the fridge so you wouldn't have to put any weight onto your ankle. Jeff sighed, knowing you were lying. He swung the fridge door open and took out the carton of eggs he knew you were reaching for. “I don’t need you to do everything for me,” you snapped, not realizing how aggressive or angry you sounded. Jeff’s eyes widening at your remarks.

“I’m just trying to help out,” Jeff said quietly. You really did appreciate his efforts, but he was driving you crazy. He was constantly around and practically refused to let you do anything by yourself.

"I know you are, but I don't need to be babied, Jeff," you insisted, and he nodded. He understood where you were coming from, but that didn't stop him from leaning down to pick up the crutch you had thrown on top the floor. You shot him a death glare since you easily could've picked it up yourself, but you still took it from him.

"I'm not babying you. I'm just taking care of you. You should be focused on physical therapy and walking with the crutches, you shouldn't have to worry about anything else."

"But how am I supposed to do that when you hardly ever let me get out of bed?" you argued, making a point. Jeff didn’t have a comeback, instead he just apologized for being overbearing and overprotective, promising to let you do more from now on. "It's okay, Jeff. I love you anyways," you smiled, watching Jeff's face beam at the words you had just said. It was the first time either of you had said them aloud, even though you had both been feeling it for a while.

"I love you, too," he grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving you a soft kiss.

#jeff wittek #jeff wittek fanfic #jeff wittek fluff #jeff wittek blurb #vlog squad #vlog squad blurb #vlog squad fanfic #jeff wittek fanfiction #vlog squad one shot #jeff wittek one shot #boyfriend!jeff #jeff wittek x y/n #jeff wittek x you #jeff wittek x reader

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lemonlushff-iy · 4 years ago

Note

(Lostinfantasyworlds here!)

I’d love to hear more about Mad Scientist please!! 🥰👀

AHHHHHH THANKS FOR ASKING @taryn-artistic-optimism 🥰 🥰 🥰

This was inspired by @clearwillow and Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and COVID. Because most things in my life are inspired by @clearwillow. Specifically Strange...which everyone should TOTALLY check out! With her permission though, I followed the urge for an evening to see what happened.

I started this...I think last year. I can’t recall anymore because...what is time?? Anyways! It’s a modern take on the classic... And...Here’s the first highly unedited chapter. Sometimes I need to just...write the first chapter so I can refocus on the babies that are already “out”.

List of WIPs HERE

“Your request to move forward with human trials has been denied.”

“Denied.”

Denied.

The word swirled around his brain like the steam in the shower, flooding his senses and clogging his brain. It kept repeating itself over and over and over and over again…He was sick of it. This wasn’t the first time. Hell, it wasn’t even the second.

No.

This was the third time, and he was running out of funding...but what the hell was he supposed to do? He wasn’t approved to take his project to the next level! And it was absurd! They needed to begin testing immediately.

They just…

They had to.

Inuyasha closed his eyes, allowing the nearly scalding water to run down his body as the spray of the shower coated his flesh. He liked it hot. He hoped it would wash the feeling of failure from him.

Denied.

Bunch of pricks. The whole lot of them.

He turned the knobs, the metal squeaking as he stopped the flow of water from the head above, and wrang the excess out of his long black hair. He watched it pour to the tile below his feet as he opened the glass door, grabbing the towel on the hook just outside the shower.

Denied.

Maybe...maybe he shouldn’t try a fourth time. Maybe he needed to refocus his attention. Give up the lab and start teaching.

What was the saying?

Those who can’t do, teach?

He didn’t feel like he could do, that was for certain.

He sighed, stepping out of the shower and smoothing a hand across the glass of the mirror above the sink.

Denied.

Sunken, taupe eyes stared hollowly back at him. Frown lines marred his forehead. Stress was etched across his face. A face that should be more vibrant. Excited. Determined. It sure as hell used to be. What had happened to him?

Denied.

He smiled sullenly at the face in the mirror, and the expression was returned to him.

Denied.

He should update his resume. Start applying for teaching jobs. He was a waste. All those years of schooling...all those years in the lab...What was it even for? He had nothing to show for it.

He closed his eyes and the image of his lab partner floated past his mind’s eye.

Kagome Higurashi. Smart. Funny. Sexy. Completely out of his league, and yet inexplicably single. He just didn’t get it. The woman was perfect. More than perfect. She was…

If Goddesses were real, she may as well be one.

She was the reason he got out of bed in the morning. Her unflinching determination to get the serum to work. Her unshakable confidence. Her and...Well...The obvious.

He ran his hand down face, trying to not think of his mother right now. He had been dodging her calls all day. Which, with as perceptive as she was, meant that she already knew.

Denied.

His hand fell to the edge of the sink and he gripped it between his fists, his knuckles turning white. What was he going to tell her? He’d been so sure that they would be approved. He’d been ready to spend the night with Kagome at a sushi place eating dragon rolls and throwing back sake. Now he was...sullenly eating take out and trying to swallow his egg rolls around a thick throat.

Denied.

He was a failure.

He couldn’t get their approval and now because of it, his mother…

Denied.

He wasn’t ready.

He wasn’t ready!

Denied.

He didn’t know what else they could do! Kagome had suggested morphing the protein a little more. Just a bit more, and they would be good to go. They could proceed with the H4NY0U drug, and then they could…

He pinched his eyes shut - his breath hitching in his throat.

That wasn’t going to happen because he was a fucking failure. He didn’t care what she said. They’d never move forward with it. And it was because the head of the board had a grudge against him.

____. Fucking asswhipe. He’d hated them since the first grade. How he’d gotten to be the head, he’d never understand. He wasn’t smart. Wasn’t talented. He suspected that the only reason he was interested in this particular project was because of Kagome.

Sweet, beautiful, smart Kagome…

He sighed and backed away from the sink, pulling the towel from around his waist and rubbing his hair in it.

Denied.

He tossed it to the floor as he heard the vibrating of his phone from the other side of the room. When he got to it, he saw the litany of missed calls, including this one. All were from his mother, and Kagome. He couldn’t bring himself to call either of them though. He couldn’t handle the disappointment in his mother’s weak voice...or the overly enthusiastic optimism from Kagome.

He just couldn’t handle that right now.

Denied.

His phone clamored down to the top of his night stand, breaking the otherwise crypt like silence in his bedroom.

He believed in what he was doing with Kagome. So much. He believed in their mission. In what the H4NY0U serum could do for the weak. Those dying from Y0UK4I virus. Those like…

His mother.

He pinched his eyes shut and rubbed his fingers in the corners of his eyes, trying to dispel the negative thoughts, but it wasn’t working. He was spiraling again. Thoughts of “how could he let her down” and “failure” were flooding his mind and his chest. He could feel the painful throbbing of his heart with every beat as he tried to pull himself out of it but it was just getting worse.

He was killing his mother by not being able to convince them to move forward.

Denied.

She would be dead within the year.

Denied.

He had promised her he’d help her.

Denied.

Was this helping her?

Denied.

Was failure helping her?

Denied.

No. It wasn’t.

Denied.

He was killing her. Just like the Y0UK4I virus.

Denied.

But there was nothing wrong with the serum!

Denied.

He believed that! He believed that to his very core!

Denied.

Hell, he’d take it if he could!

Denied.

He would!

Denied.

He’d march right into that lab…

Denied.

Pick up a bottle…

Denied.

And give himself a dose.

Denied.

His face went slack as the idea permeated his being. Take the serum himself.

Take it. Himself.

He hadn’t considered that before. It’d never really occurred to him to use himself as the test subject. But...Why the hell not? No, he didn’t have the Y0UK4I virus...but...also...The serum did so much more than cure it. So why couldn’t he take it? Why couldn’t he get stronger? Why couldn’t he improve his overall health with it?

Denied.

That was just a word. That wasn’t his fate. He wasn’t going to let that lone word control himself, or his destiny, or Kagome’s, or his mother’s.

Denied.

No. He wasn’t going to let that stop him. He believed in their work. Believed in the serum.

Denied?

No.

Accepted.

***

The glass doors of the lab closed nearly silently behind him as he entered. It might have been nearing midnight, but so what? He wasn’t giving himself a chance to second guess this. He believed in this. In them. This was how he was going to prove it.

Inuyasha set up his cell phone on top of the desk, turning it on to record.

“Day 0 of the H4NY0U trial,” he began, looking at his visage in the glass screen of his cell phone. “Doctor Kagome Higurashi and I were once again denied moving into clinical trials of our serum. Something that I, strongly believe, is a mistake. I’m not going to wait for the board to continue to deny us our research though,” he explained, noticing the tick in his left jaw muscle from clenching it so hard.

“I’m going to volunteer myself as a willing subject, just as Alexander Fleming did when he discovered penicillin. I believe just that strongly in the H4NY0U serum. I’m of sound mind, and perfect health. There are no blemishes or rashes on my skin. I’m not currently experiencing any aches or pains. I’m going to move forward with injecting the serum into my right forearm, as I am right handed.”

He quickly stood from the desk and opened the refrigerator in the back, grabbing a syringe and alcohol swab as he returned to his place in front of the camera. He held the materials out in front of the camera, making sure it focused on the serial number on the bottle before he read it aloud.

Inuyasha glanced down at the camera, giving it a small smile as he removed the syringe from it’s plastic packaging, sticking the tip of the needle into the top of the bottle. He read out the exact amount he was drawing, and took an alcohol pad to wipe down and cleanse a part of his skin.

“This is for you, Ma,” he muttered as he placed the tip of the needle on his skin, closing his eyes.

He wasn’t going to turn back.

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t let her die. Couldn’t let years of research be for nothing.

He pressed the down on the plunger, and felt the cold liquid shoot into his veins.

It was done.

***

“What do you mean you took the serum, Yash?” Kagome demanded, looking at the place he had injected himself in disbelief. His skin was a little red - a little irritated. But wasn’t anything major. It certainly wasn’t worth her fussing over it.

“I mean I took it,” he shrugged, taking his arm back and hiding it behind his back. “It’s ready. We know it’s ready.”

“But the board--”

“--the board was never going to approve it. You and I both know that now, Kags,” he sighed, unable to bring himself to look her in the eye. “I thought you believed in this…”

“I do,” she insisted. “I’m just...They denied it for a reason…”

“Did they?” he demanded, and he watched her shift her gaze away from him. She doubted it too. He could see it. Clear as day. She thought that they were full of shit too.

Good.

It wasn’t just him.

“I’ll be ok, Kagome,” he promised, smiling weakly at her. “Trust me. Trust us,” he insisted, taking her hands in his. Her skin felt so soft…

“Trust us, huh?” she breathed, glancing from their hands back up to his face. “I think I can do that…”

***

He felt hot.

More than hot.

His whole body was on fire. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

It was like he was being suffocated as searing pain shot through every joint - every limb - in his whole body. He tumbled out of bed, trying to get to the bathroom.

He needed to cool off. Needed water. Needed air.

He shoved his boxers down his scrawny legs, turning the shower on as cold as it could get. His flat chest was coated in a sheen of sweat - as were his thin, wiry arms. He pushed his way into the shower, allowing the cold spray to cool his body. The cold felt good. Calming. For a time. He could feel his muscles contracting beneath his skin. Could feel something happening to his bones. His eyes. His smell. It was overpowering him.

Can’t think.

Can’t breathe.

Can’t…

Darkness.

***

His teeth were chattering when he awoke. His jaw ached from clenching it so tightly. He was lucky that he didn’t bite his tongue off. The spray of the shower still fell around him, but instead of burning, he was freezing now. His fingers were blue, and he took that as a good sign.

A horrible side effect of the H4NY0U serum, for sure...but...He was fine. That was what mattered.

He rose up from the tile floor of this shower and turned the knobs, making the spray stop. His head felt weird. So did his mouth. His tongue felt thick and fuzzy. Like he was hung over, but he hadn’t been drinking. He needed to make note of these side effects.

This was important research.

Inuyasha grabbed the towel off the hook outside of the shower, running it through his black hair as he tried to warm up.

He patted it over his face as he stepped out, walking to the mirror above the sink so he could get some water. Maybe wash out this bitter, horrible taste in his mouth. He’d known that there would be side effects, but this...this wasn’t something he had anticipated…

He wrapped the towel around his waist, and turned on the sink, filling the glass beside it with water. When he turned it off, he caught something silver in his mirror out of the corner of his eye.

He paused.

Straightened his back.

And looked in the mirror.

There, standing behind his shoulder was a perfect copy of himself. Only this copy wasn’t his mirror image.

His copy was athletic. Strong. Muscles rippled beneath the skin of his naked body. Silver hair flowed down his back and shoulders. A purple, jagged stripe was on each cheek. Pointed ears sat atop his head. Molten red eyes with turquoise pupils stared unflinchingly back at him...a smirk plastered across his face, baring a hint of...fang?

“Hello, weakling.”

His glass slipped from his grip, shattering across the floor as he fainted.

#taryn-artistic-optimism

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faline-cat444 · 3 years ago

Text

Super Giles:Chapter 10-The Last Corner

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

We start this final chapter off with some sound effects...French sound effects and some of those are arguably more easy to turn “English” than others so I dared not try due to lack of experience on the...Weirder...ones.It’s not like all of it is “Honhonhon” and manga tends to be the same way these days by keeping in the kanji effects and placing either the Japanese or English equivalent to the noise in plain text(All depends on the publisher’s/translator’s choice.

Walter Oliviers,Michel Smets,and/or whoever can be credited to writing this story,I hope you are happy with what you managed to accomplish.Whether you’re still alive or between then and now you died and one of my mother’s interpretations of the afterlife is selected spirits re-manifest at certain times if their actions are brought up...I hope the other ghosts aren’t laughing at you for being remembered this way.You arguably had a group of people forced to read this story for some school systems.It might just be due to how I had to pick up a French copy or my own weirdness of opinion but this kind of came off a little too philosophical at points than something your typical fourth grader’s brain is going to comprehend.Then again,if publishing it this way was the only way to share your vision it’s understandable since at least by how my school experience was those in the age chunks between twelve and eighteen would probably chalk this all up to “Drugs,lol”.

If there’s anything to truly take from all this it’s that pretty much anything has the chance to be written if you strike the right time/people.With this now out of the way I suppose I still need to return to that story from the early 1900s about the messenger boy who gains the ability to bounce like a rubber ball from his fairy godfather as he hunts down the boogeyman.

Ehh...While I mean a lot of that this whole story is pretty much how Krusty reacted to Worker and Parasite.

“Vroom-Vroom,” roared the bulldozer.

“Crips-Cnars-Schrip,”cried the crane.

“Schrans-Schrans,”the excavator gobbled.

“Ssssch-Ssssch,”hissed the grinder.

The machines were impatiently waiting for near each other in line,throbbing,thundering,rumbling,and grumbling.A worker raised a small green flag.Suddenly he lowered his hand.This was the sign they could begin.The machines rushed in a cloud of dust.The trees and bushes flew in the air,as well as gravel and earth.

“I’ll show them how a lamppost dies,”the lamppost said solemnly.He straightened up like a candle,held out his lamp high,turned on the light,and shed as much light as possible on the arriving troop.

Giles looked admiringly at his friend.

“Why am I not that brave?”he thought,”I am terribly afraid.”He was shaking like a pipe,and as pale a dead man but smelled like a broken down motorist's gas can.

The devourers were still approaching.Fifty more meters.Forty.Thirty.

A jeep came honking its horn and stopped right in front of the machines.It was the fat sergeant with the crimson face.Huffing,he got out of his jeep.On his arm hung a brand new uniform.

“What is happening here?”he gasped.The workers jumped from their machines and surrounded him.

“I am here on a special mission for General Vanderspleen,”said the sergeant with an air of importance.” I must deliver a new uniform to the Interior Gasoline Supply Soldier!”He held out his hand in Giles’ direction.

“Soldier?”growled an astonished worker.”I only see a gas pump!”

“The supply soldiers know how to camouflage,”said the sergeant in a hushed voice.”The more he looks like a gas pump,the greater value he has as a soldier!”He pushed the workers aside and walked towards Giles.

“On behalf of General Vanderspleen,I am putting on your new uniform here,”he said solemnly.He took the pants off his arm and held them out in front of Giles.

The workers were watching with their mouths open.

The sergeant threw the pants over his shoulder and placed the uniform jacket over Giles’ casing.He then added a cap for the finishing touch.

“Voila,”he grumbled with difficulty.”It doesn't entirely correspond to the rules,but it's better than nothing!”

He saluted,turned around and climbed back into his jeep.

“But what about our highway?”asked an astonished worker.”That pump…Uh…The soldier is in our way. Should we move it?”

The sergeant's eyes flashed flames.

“Are you crazy,old man?”he shouted.”The soldier is a point of support for our troops!Personally decorated by the general! If you dare to touch them,I'll drag you all to the War Council.And then you will all be shot!”

He started up the jeep and drove away.

The workers were looking at Giles,full of respect.They started their machines again,but instead of heading straight for the gas pump and lamppost, they took a turn and passed a few meters further.

“They…They passed us,” Giles stammered.”They made a turn.We…We’re saved!”

“They let us live!”the lamppost sputtered.

At the same time,they started to laugh and cry with joy.

---

The next day brought in the asphalt paver.The wide strip of land was completely covered with a thick layer of asphalt.After this machine came the line puller.It drew beautiful straight white lines that divided the highway into traffic lanes.Three one way, and three the other.Giles and the lamppost watched the work with a keen eye.As if it was their own highway.And it kind of was.

When the highway was completely finished,it was solemnly inaugurated by the minister and a whole collection of personalities.First they drove in their shiny black limousines down the brand new road.The minister looked satisfied.

“Splendid road!Well done!” he kept repeating with no signs of stopping.But since he had a very large and expensive cigar in his mouth it sounded more like “Schplendid woad!Well wone!”

The high personalities nodded.

Suddenly the minister noticed Giles with his new lemon-yellow casing.

“Stop here!”he ordered.The engine slowed down.The minister took the cigar out of his mouth and asked in a stern voice “Why hasn’t anyone told me about this gas pump?”

The high personalities stared at each other and shrugged.They didn’t know either!

“As Minister for 'the inauguration of new things',I should have known.Such negligence!”

“We can officially open up this pump,”a personality proposed.”We just opened the highway,we've got all the tools with us!”

Giles did not understand very well.”Are they going to open me up?”he worriedly wondered.”But then all my gas would leak out!The minister will certainly not allow it!”The minister thought deeply while chewing his cigar.

“Alright,” he replied briefly.

Immediately there was great commotion.

“Where is the ribbon tender?” he shouted at the top of his lungs.”And the bearer of the ministerial scissors?”

The ribbon tender advanced with dignity towards Giles.In his mouth he had a few pins and in his outstretched hands lay a large red satin ribbon.

“He’s blindfolding me first,so I can't see how they going to open me up,”Giles thought.

But the ribbon tenderr draped the ribbon around Giles and made a beautiful knot in the front.Giles looked like an Easter egg.

The scissor-bearer stepped forward even more solemnly than the ribbon tender.On a black velvet cushion he carried a pair of golden scissors.

“Surely those are metal scissors,”Giles moaned.

The minister held his cigar in one hand,and the scissors in his other.”I declare that this wonderful new lemon yellow gas pump is officially opened and is legally ready for use.”

With a quick gesture—as only a minister who inaugurates new things can do—he cut the red satin ribbon.

“And now I will refuel first!” he added.The driver pulled the big limousine forward and the treasurer slipped in a hundred into the slot.” Luckily he doesn't know about the truck,”Giles thought.”I'm only going to let him think he's the first.Otherwise he will get angry again and refuse.”

With the cigar in his mouth,the minister removed the pistol and wanted to place it in the reservoir.

“You fool!” Giles hissed.”Pay attention to your cigar!A single spark could make this whole place blow up!”

He sealed off his rubber hose and did not release a single drop of gas,in fear of an explosion.

“Your cigar,your Excellency,” said one of the high personalities.

“Hmm,It’s true,hold it for me!”

“Whew!”Giles let out a sigh of relief and released the gas.If all his clients were this reckless,he would stop right away.

After the minister and his escorts disappeared--certainly to open other “new things” elsewhere—other cars arrived.And it was good as Giles had imagined it…An uninterrupted flow of vehicles,big and small,all kinds of models and colors.Regularly,there was one who stopped to refuel and Giles did his best to satisfy everyone.He acquired a good reputation and more and more people came to seek their gas from him.

In a line of sometimes several miles,customers waited patiently for their turn.

In the meadow behind Giles,the children were playing tag and soccer until their parents called them.

That evening,by the light of the lamppost,customers continued to line up.

“Gasoline is really cheap here,” explained a blonde woman,who had come especially from Brussels.

“And the pump has such a pretty lemon-yellow color,” her friend said.

Everyone had a good reason for preferring gas from Giles than any other source.

“It lasts a long time,”one claimed.

“It allows you to drive faster,”another thought.

A third source said it made their car give off more pleasant noises.And a fourth said he came mainly for the atmosphere.

In the midst of all this commotion,Giles carried out his work with stride.He swallowed piles of money and gave gas in return.Only once did he get scared…It was the sight of a beat-up old sidecar.On the motorcycle there was a man and in the sidecar a woman.The man got off and removed his helmet.

Giles had a shock.”Father!...Mother!...”

The father placed $100 in the slot.”This is my last one!” he grumbled.”But I’m putting it in the best gas pump in the world.”

How proud Giles was.The best pump in the world,his father said so!Instead of swallowing the money,Giles spat out a whole lot.

“Hey,what's going on?” grumbled the astonished father.”This pump gave us a jackpot.”

“Thank you very much, my little pump!” he whispered and started to refuel.

”You know,”said his mother hidden by the helmet,”it may sound ridiculous,but suddenly I’m thinking very strongly of our Giles.He loved gas pumps very much.What became of him?”

Giles heard her sniffle softly,and he also felt tears come to his eyes.

Giles fill the tank to the brim.

“Now it’s giving us too much gas.We will surely have to come back here!” said his father satisfied as he tried to read the number of liters on the meter.But he did not succeed.”The glass plate is completely fogged up,” he said.

When the old sidecar pulled away,Giles gazed longly,thinking of the past.

“Hey,Pump,is it coming?” said a loud voice.

And automatically,Giles swallowed the next customer's money…

#Super Giles

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Good Omens - “Saving Face” (Rated PG13)

Summary: A gang of bullies use Warlock to trap Adam on Halloween night, herding him towards a big, old, haunted house where no one goes ... and few who enter are ever seen alive again. (3904 words)

Notes: This is one of two stories I wrote for A Big Spooky Fan Zine. Be sure to check the rest of the collection for some amazing spooky works from other wonderful fandom creators :)

Read on AO3.

“Warlock … man,” Adam implores, backing away, hands raised in surrender “... come on. You don’t have to do this.”

Warlock grins at Adam’s trembling voice, his eyes wide with fear reflecting Warlock’s triumphant grin.

“Yeah,” he says, taking measured steps forward, eating up this moment. “I do.”

A pack of five boys in costume creeps up behind Warlock like the jackals they are. They’re not standing with him. They’re there to ensure their plan goes off without a hitch. This initiation into their gang will not only provide them with a minion in Warlock, whose father’s money and connections make the boy more valuable to them than Midas. But it will knock precious prince Adam Young off his popularity pedestal - a position he’s held on to for far too long.

Adam looks from Warlock to his cronies closing in on him, taking their time since they know he’s at their mercy. Talking will not help him, and he can’t fight his way out. Six against one? The odds are not on his side. So he does the only thing he can do.

He runs.

He turns tail and bolts, feet inside his battered trainers pounding the pavement, lungs burning from the strain he’s putting them through. But he has no illusions that he’s getting away, even when he gains a considerable lead. He knows how this gang operates. They’re herding him to one specific place: The Parsons House - an abandoned house at the end of this deserted lane; a monstrous, crooked, ramshackle nightmare overlooking the largest cemetery in their village. It’s the oldest house in this corner of the countryside. A worn, wooden sign attached to a single post that no longer stands upright proclaims it to be so.

No one ever goes there, regardless of the fact that its last known owner, Emily Parsons, lived for over eighty-three years inside, all alone, until the day she died of old age. But it’s been said that her frail body can be seen hanging from a noose in the upper attic window, leading to speculation by local townsfolk that the story of her dying peacefully in her sleep may be nothing but a tall tale.

This gang of boys (sans Warlock) have done this before - chased some poor, frightened soul that they hate to the house and forced them inside …

Kids that never came back to school, who were never heard from again.

In an act that could be described as simultaneously brave and stupid, Adam heads for the house, leaps over its rickety fence, and runs straight for the stairs.

All six boys crow when they see him skid to a stop at the base of the porch.

He’s right where they want him.

Whether he goes in himself or they grab him by his arms and legs and toss him in, he’s going in that house.

“Go on then!” one of the boys yells. “Get yer bony arse in there!”

The boys cackle, lending further to the impression that they are hunchbacked, sharp-toothed predators.

“And what if I don’t?” Adam calls over his shoulder, not fully facing them. Keeping his back turned to this lot is just as foolhardy as seeking safety inside this house, but he can’t turn his back on the house either. It has an essence - something he can feel deep inside his body, into the marrow of his bones.

“I don’t see you have much of a choice,” a different boy yells. “One way or the other, yer going in there. It just depends on whether you’re walking in or crawling in on two broken legs!”

Adam looks at the boys, stopped by the fence, with a slight smirk and a furrowed brow.

“How on earth am I supposed to crawl anywhere on two broken legs?” he asks.

“I …” The boy who made the original comment chokes on the rest of his sentence, realizing then how much that threat doesn’t make any sense. “I don’t know! You’re just gonna!”

“Adam … buddy …” Warlock grips the pointed tops of the fence posts and leans over “… my friends here are going to make sure you get into that house one way or the other. So you might as well get it over with.”

Adam answers Warlock’s comment with a hard swallow. He doesn’t honestly believe those boys are going to grab him up and toss him into the house. They’re too scared to even come past the fence, standing just beyond the splintered pickets, dressed in an array of stereotypical monster costumes – a werewolf, a vampire, a mummy, Frankenstein’s monster, and a ghost – each one blocking Adam’s escape.

Warlock is the only one among them not wearing a costume, opting for slate gray trousers, a white button-down, and the thick, navy wool coat he wears for school. With the exception of being only twelve, he looks, for all intents and purposes, like he’s going on a job interview.

Just an everyday average Joe.

That’s because, he’d explained, serial killers blend in, look like everyone else.

In reality, Adam has the upper hand. He should run inside and hide.

It’s a good plan.

A reasonable plan.

A solid plan.

So why doesn’t he make his feet go?

He searches for a weapon since it seems that fighting might become an option.

The house shifts on its foundation when a particularly forceful breeze passes through it. Adam eyes the graying wood slats falling from the siding, dusty windows clattering while shutters swing off their hinges, smacking dully against one another.

A rock flies in out of nowhere and strikes Adam on the shoulder. He stumbles forward onto the first creaky step. He glares at the house, as if of all the people there meaning to do him harm, it’s the house that decided to throw the first punch.

But it wasn’t the house.

He knows it wasn’t.

And the stakes in this game of cat-and-mouse have just gone up a notch.

“Go on already!” the boy dressed as a mummy yells, tossing a second rock straight up and catching it as it comes down like he’s warming up for baseball practice. “We haven’t got all night! We still have egging to do!”

“Well, why don’t you go do that and come back? I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

Adam ducks in time to miss the rock whiz by his head, coming close enough to nick his left ear.

“No more jokes, Adam!” werewolf boy growls. “You either go inside and take your chances, or we pound you into the dirt!”

Adam looks at the faces around him – mean, unfriendly, shrouded by masks and makeup, which makes these boys feel braver.

It also makes them more dangerous.

But they’re far from anonymous. Adam knows who the boys are underneath their masks. The vampire is Vince: the leader of the gang and the eldest, having retaken two grades twice. The werewolf is his younger brother, David. The mummy is Troy, their best friend from birth. Frankenstein’s monster is Leroy, and the ghost, in his thin white sheet, hiding him from absolutely no one, is Devin.

Yes, Adam knows them. He knows an awful lot about them, really. They’ve lived in the same village together their entire lives. They’ve been to each others’ houses at one point or another, hunted for eggs in the courtyard of the church every Easter till they were ten. But he doesn’t appeal to them. Because somewhere down the line, they changed. Rumors about them run rampant all over town. Outlandish rumors.

Still, Adam is far from impressed.

But Warlock … Adam had had high hopes for him. But Vince and his merry band of delinquents got their hooks into him.

Now, it might be too late for both of them.

Adam looks at the four short stairs leading to the porch. He knows the devils that wait for him if he doesn’t go up those stairs. He might as well try his luck contending with the unknown.

As a former Antichrist, a murderous spirit might be easier to reckon with.

He climbs unsteadily to the second step, ticking it off in his head.

Three more to go.

Somewhere above him, a shutter slams, causing him to skip step three and fall face-first onto step number four.

In the space of a second, he went from starting to nearly done.

He lifts a foot and plants it on the stair beneath him, raising himself up slowly as the plank bends in the middle. He brings his other leg up to the fourth step.

One more, and he’ll be standing on the porch.

Another breeze blows. The front door swings open, making all the kids present jump. Adam finds himself at a crossroads.

Whether he likes it or not, there’s only one way out of this.

He can’t make it past. He has to go through.

Adam flies into the house, the front door slamming shut the second he’s inside, as if receiving him.

Or swallowing him.

Then … everything grinds to a halt.

The wind ceases to blow.

The shutters hang limply, no longer bang.

The house stops its listing.

And from the pits of the boys’ stomachs to the tips of their toes, the earth stops spinning.

“What … what just happened?” David asks in a hoarse whisper.

“I think he went in there,” Leroy says.

“Went in, or was pushed?” Troy asks.

“Who would have pushed him? We’re all out here! Not a one of us has moved!”

“Maybe it wasn’t us,” Devin offers.

“Who was it then? Who was it!?” Troy asks, becoming unhinged. “Tell me!”

The sound of Adam screaming silences their arguing.

“Help! Help me! Vince! Troy! Devin! Warlock! Help me!”

“A … Adam?” Leroy says. “Is that …?”

“Yeah,” David answers quietly. “Yeah, that’s …”

“David! Leroy! Please!”

The boys have heard kids scream in this house before. And they’ve enjoyed it. It’s part of what they live for, why they do this every Halloween. But something about the way Adam is screaming is different. He isn’t just begging for help.

He’s calling out to them, each one by name.

Not only is it unsettling to hear Adam’s fearful voice calling for them, the thought of this house knowing their names sends chills up each of their spines.

Except for Warlock, who looks bored out of his mind.

Silence falls over the house again. A silence that drags on by the skin of its teeth and goes on for far too long.

Right when three of the boys summon up the courage to organize a search party, they hear another scream, this one worse than the last.

Adam again, but his screams have changed.

He’s beyond asking for help, gone from panicked, to bloodcurdling, to strangled, as if someone is pouring cupfuls of sand into his mouth. Above the sound of Adam choking for air comes a hollow, evil laugh, rising in volume and pitch, echoing around the walls and shaking the whole house.

“Vince!” it mimics, chuckling in between. “Troy! Devin! Warlock! David! Leroy!”

The boys stand up straight when they hear it, stepping back as the sound grabs at their insides and squeezes tight.

“We … we should go check on him … maybe?” Devin suggests.

“Yeah,” Leroy agrees. “Why don’t you go ahead and check on him, Vince?”

Vince glares at the boys flanking him side-to-side. “Nu-uh! I’m not opening that door for shite!”

“This was your brilliant idea!” Devin argues. “You’re the one who wanted to bring him here, despite the fact that we could end up dead! Or worse!”

“What’s worse than dead?” Vince asks.

“My mum could find out! I could be grounded till I’m married!”

Vince’s eyebrows snap in the middle. “B-but … you’re gay!”

“Marriage equality exists, Vince!” Devin crosses his arms. “Don’t be an arse, all right?”

“Point is,” Troy intervenes, “this was your plan from the start, so you should go check on him! Man!” He kicks at the pebbles beneath his feet. “I just want for one year to get some tricks or treats! I’m so tired of this shite!”

“Same here!” Leroy chimes in.

The five boys bicker back and forth. Warlock watches, gaze bouncing between them like he’s at a football match - a dull football match, one destined to end in a stalemate. He rolls his eyes.

He’s definitely done with this.

“Oh, I’ll do it!” Warlock says, blowing through the lopsided gate and trudging up the steps. “Ya bunch of pansies …”

“Yeah,” Vince says, visibly relieved. “Yeah, Warlock should go. It’s his initiation.”

“Oh, shut the eff up!” Troy says, unamused.

Warlock stomps up the stairs without a care, daring whatever is in the house that grabbed Adam to grab him as well. “Adam!” he yells, hand cupped to the side of his mouth to ensure he can be heard. “Adam! Where the hell are you?”

When Adam doesn’t answer, Warlock does the unthinkable.

He knocks on the front door.

The gang takes another step back.

“A-dam!” Warlock calls in a teasing, sing-song voice. “Come out here, ya coward! You trynna pull one over on us? Well, it won’t work. I’m gonna count to five, and then Vince is gonna come in and beat the crap out of you!”

“What!?” Vince yelps, his next step backward twice the size of the rest. “Oh, heck no! No no no no no no no!”

Warlock stops knocking. He puts an ear to the door. The boys watch, completely engrossed but prepared to run if anything else should happen.

If anything should eat him, then come for them next.

“Well?” Leroy calls up after a minute. “Do you hear anything?”

“I hear … something,” Warlock moves his ear from the center of the door to the seam. “It sounds like a …”

“Like a what? Like a what?” Troy screams, one creaky floorboard away from losing it entirely.

“I don’t know,” Warlock says, “but it sounds kind of like a … a …”

“A …?”

“... a … burp.”

The boys stare at one another, expressions wasted underneath their disguises.

“A burp?” David says. “Warlock, man! I’m gonna …”

The door breaks off its hinges and flies over their heads. The five boys duck down to avoid being beamed. When the coast is clear, and the cacophony of the door cartwheeling down the street dies down, they stand back up and look to the spot where Warlock had been standing, hoping to get an answer …

… but he’s not there anymore.

Not a scrap of him.

The gaping doorway stands open like a giant mouth breathing in the twilight air.

And Vince can’t stand it anymore.

“Warlock! Adam!” he bellows, then waits for an answer. When he doesn’t get one, he leaps over the fence and storms up to the house. “WARLOCK! ADAM! Come on out, all right? This isn’t funny anymore!”

Vince isn’t necessarily concerned with whether or not Warlock or Adam is alive or dead. He’s much more concerned with his sanity. He’s been to this house dozens of times, and nothing even close to this has ever happened. They have to be making this up. They had to have gotten together before tonight and planned on pranking him, probably hoping to see him mess himself.

Well, that’s not gonna happen!

He makes his way to the doorway with none of his gang behind him. He leans in, looks left and right.

“Warlock?” he calls out. “Adam? Where are you guys?”

He turns back to his crew, all of whom have migrated further down the walkway, preparing to run for their lives.

“They’re not … they’re not in there,” Vince says.

“You’re going to have to go inside then.”

“No way! Fuck that!”

“Vince …!”

“Don’t Vince me! They went into that house on their own! Ain’t no one to blame for that!”

“Adam went in because we threatened him!” Leroy points out.

“He wouldn’t have even come here if Warlock hadn’t invited him,” Vince counters.

“We helped! That makes us accessories!” Devin argues.

“Accessories?” Vince snickers. “What? Are you a solicitor now?”

“Just get in there, Vince!” Leroy says. “Or are you chicken?”

“I’m not chicken! I’m smart! I’m not gonna go in there and die because of fucking peer pressure, and not a one of you can make me!”

A tortured howl shakes the loose boards on the house, pulling the boys’ attention. But it doesn’t sound like Adam this time.

It sounds like Warlock.

“H-holy shit! Holy shit! Vince!” David yells, pointing at the house.

Pointing at Adam, standing in the doorway, two feet in front of Vince, his shirt front drenched in blood. None of the boys can tell if that blood belongs to him or not. Not even Vince, looking him dead in the eye.

But he doesn’t look too much worse for wear.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Vince cries, stumbling backward, missing the stairs altogether and falling straight off the porch onto his tailbone. He lands with a resounding thud, sprays of liquid hot pain shooting up his back.

“What … what happened to you, A---Adam?” Leroy asks.

“I was given a choice,” Adam growls in a new voice as he steps out onto the porch. An inhuman voice. “To submit … or die. And I chose …” He lifts his arms and his body follows, rising into the air above the boys’ heads as Adam grins down at them “… to conquer.”

“Wh-where is Warlock?” David asks.

Adam laughs. “You mean him?” With a sweep of his arm, the limp body of a young boy flies out one of the windows, landing on the ground inside the fence. The five boys scream, staring into the open and unseeing eyes of Warlock Dowling, his face ashen, his mouth opened wide, locked in a horrified scream so that the only conclusion they can come to is that he was literally scared to death.

“L-let’s get out of here!” Leroy yells.

“Oh …” Adam chuckles “… you’re not going anywhere. You’re staying here … with us!”

“U-us?” Troy whimpers. “Who’s us?”

A fist busts through the floorboards of the porch, then an arm clad in rags and the shredded remains of what was once a flannel shirt. Another hand emerges, clawing through the wood to hoist up the rest - the head and torso of a corpse tearing themselves from the earth to do Adam’s bidding. Adam’s eyes - blistering red orbs glowing in their sockets - stare down at his tormentors, so frightened for their lives, they can barely scream. Vince scuttles backward to avoid the eruption. A hand explodes through the dirt beside him, grabbing hold of his ankle, and Vince launches to his feet. He manages a shrill wail as he flips over the gate and sprints off down the street, his four compatriots hot on his heels, one urinating noticeably.

Not until the boys are out of sight does Adam begin to laugh in earnest, his body lowering to the ground, carried gingerly by angelic power. He looks down as the glamour fades – the stain withdrawing, his eyes returning from the spell that made them transform. He pulls at the hem of his shirt, watching as the last remaining blood disappears from the fabric.

Warlock climbs up off the filthy ground. He was never really hurt, helped out the window and through the air by demonic intervention. “That was fun.”

“Better than what we did last year,” Wensleydale groans, clambering out of his hole in the porch.

“Hey!” Brian yelps, pulling off his sweaty mask and sucking in a breath of fresh air. “Last year’s costume contest was epic!”

“That’s because you won it!” says Pepper, pulling off her own oppressive mask.

“Yeah. And that was because your mum was one of the judges!”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t have the best costume!”

“Don’t you children think that was a little much?” Aziraphale asks, walking out on to the porch from where he and Crowley had been hiding in the living room, peeking out through a downstairs window. He’d disapproved of this scheme from the start, back when the Them found out what those bullies were concocting for Halloween night, how they had strong-armed Warlock into helping them. “Wouldn’t it have been better to approach their parents about their brutish behavior?”

“Nah,” Crowley says, slipping an arm around his husband’s waist. “Woulda done no good. Most of the time, the parents are no better than the kids. Who d’ya think the blighters get it from?”

“Isn’t this all going to be moot when they find out that Adam hasn’t been possessed by the devil, and Warlock did not, in fact, get devoured by bloodthirsty zombies?” Aziraphale asks, grimacing at the absurdity.

“No,” Adam assures him, “because no one is going to find out until school on Monday after they’ve already called everyone they know and told them about it. I can’t imagine the amount of trouble they’re going to get into!”

“Yeah!” Wensleydale agrees. “Look at all of the rules they’re breaking! Bullying, assault, trespassing. With any luck, they’ll get grounded for life!”

“Or at least three months.” Aziraphale shoots his husband a significant look that takes Crowley a moment to catch.

“Oh! Yeah, right.” Crowley snaps his fingers, performing the truly demonic miracle of making sure five bastards get their comeuppance.

“Besides, something good is coming out of all this,” Pepper reminds them. “Mrs. Parsons’s grandniece will have a brand new house after we help get this wreck fixed up. It was nice of her to let us borrow it for the night. We must have sounded bonkers when we asked.”

“Not at all. She understood,” Aziraphale assures them. “She was glad that after years of people using her great aunt’s house to scare people that someone asked permission for a change.”

“I think things turned out exactly the way they were meant to,” Pepper says.

“Yup!” Brian concurs. “Let the punishment fit the crime, I always say.”

“When do you say that?” Wensleydale asks, beating dirt and cobwebs out of his ear.

“All the time,” Brian argues.

“I’ve known you my entire life, and I’ve never once heard you say that!”

“Then you haven’t been listening hard enough!”

“Pepper? Have you ever heard him say that?”

“Don’t know. I tend to ignore every third word that comes out of his mouth.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“You were right, Warlock. Go big or go home,” Adam says over the argument ensuing.

“Yeah.” Warlock smiles at his new friends. They were never angry at him for the part he almost played in conspiring against their leader. They offered to help him out with no arguments given. It was Pepper's idea to pretend to turn into the undead. Brian got their costumes together. Wensleydale found out about Mrs. Parsons's grandniece and suggested they give her a call. Then they spent most of Halloween night hiding out in this creepy old house when they could have been roaming the neighborhood begging for candy.

But the best thing they did was let him join their group even though he probably didn't deserve it.

“We went big." Warlock smirks, watching the five boys clamor down the street and, unbeknownst to them, to a two-hour lecture and three months in solitary confinement. “Let’s go home.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale #Crowley

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