#[something secret n dizzying] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

joelscurls · 5 months

Text

best kept secret

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 6.7k

summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3

Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.

It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it, never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.

You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.

He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.

“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”

They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core.

Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can.

Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.

Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.

But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.

Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.

“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.

With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.

He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.

You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.

Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel.

For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more.

It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has.

That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.

He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.

But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.

“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine.

“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.”

Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.

Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.

“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.

“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.”

You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.

“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”

Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do.

“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it.

You slink home just as the street lights dim.

The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.

You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.

You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.

The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.

By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you.

Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.

God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“Something on your mind?”

Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.

“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”

He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”

It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.

You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.

The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-

-there’s a knock at the door.

Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?

And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.

“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.

Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.

The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.

He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length.

No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.

You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay.

Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.

His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.

“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”

He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?

“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.

“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.”

His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.

And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket.

You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.

Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink.

Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.

Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”

Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale.

“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers.

There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week.

This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.

But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context.

You shake your head, no.

“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”

“When I was ten?” you retort.

“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”

You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”

“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.

“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.

“Well, you gotta get back out there!”

Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”

You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch.

I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.

Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.

Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.

“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”

“Will you just give her a chance?”

“Jesus; fine.”

The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.

Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.

He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through.

“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket.

“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”

Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

He’s actually agreeing to this?

You need to get out of here before you say something rash.

The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder.

Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.

The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late.

The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.

It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.

The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.

Maybe he’d be happier with Deb.

They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.

The day passes infuriatingly slow.

The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.

“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.

“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”

“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”

“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.

You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.

He picks up after two rings.

“Darlin’ — are you okay?”

It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.

But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.

“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest.

“Why didn’t you say no?”

“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”

“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“

You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.

“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”

Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.

It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.

Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor.

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”

He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.

The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.

You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.

There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.

Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.

He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.

So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.

But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin.

It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.

On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”

You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.

“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway.

“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”

“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.

“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“

“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.

Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.

Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern.

Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all.

Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait.

You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.

This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.

You jot the address down anyway.

Downtown Austin is buzzing with life.

Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand.

At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved.

That’s not what you’re doing, of course.

No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.

It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up.

You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?

You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.

From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.

Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.

And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.

Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.

But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb.

She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.

She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.

You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.

But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers.

He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday.

Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer.

She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.

You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.

And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.

He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.

Fuck.

He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.

With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side.

He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down.

The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.

“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.

You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?

When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.

“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”

“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”

This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.

“It wasn’t like that,” he grits

“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”

There’s a beat. Joel sighs.

“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”

His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you admit.

He nods. Another beat.

“Did you kiss her?” you ask.

“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now.

Your mouth goes dry.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t want her?”

“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.”

“Why not?”

He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.

“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?”

The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.

“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat.

And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw.

Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep.

He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths.

“Need you — please.”

He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs.

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your breath catches.

You know what he’s really asking: are you going to let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?

But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.

You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”

Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.

“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.”

He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.

He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.

You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”

His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist.

You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.

“Gotta move baby — please move.”

He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.

Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.

Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life.

It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.

One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop.

Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.

“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“

“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”

His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.

His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.

“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”

He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.

You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.

You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.

Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.

“Joel,” you say.

He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.

“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.

“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”

And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”

“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”

You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.

You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.

Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel.

You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.

“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”

He looks at you like you have two heads.

He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.

“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.

“I’m yours?”

He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning.

It all feels somehow sweeter, now.

“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”

end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.

Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)

tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673

#joel x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction

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disasterofastory · 7 months

Text

A shocking night (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

A shocking night // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 2/14 Warnings: shower smut, a bit dub-c, dead bodies

Summary: You meet Brahms, the living one, for the first time.

It's so quiet you can hear the rapid beating of your heart as it tries to break free from the hold of your ribcage. Your chest heaves as you pant and gulp for air. Your lungs burn. You can feel the wild rhythm of your pulse at the tip of your fingers. It makes your limbs numb and frozen. It makes you stop from running and escaping this hellhole.

The entrance door of the mansion seems far away. Too far away.

Your eyes are on the man. He is the only one still alive. The other three lie on the ground, bloody and motionless. They chose the wrong house to break into. Your attention falls on them for a second before snapping back at the one who stares at you from behind his mask. The white but dirty porcelain is familiar. Too familiar.

"Brahms?" Your voice is high and panicked. At first, you think he doesn't even understand your question. He tilts his head to the side before nodding. His posture is still tense and ready to jump at any second if you dare to move even an inch. His broad chest moves up and down as he pants. The white shirt he wears is dirty and bloody, too. Everything is.

How is it possible? You heard about the history of the family who hired you. Malcolm told you about their son who died in the fire that still marks the outside of the house. That's why you were so accepting to take care of a toy. You had no idea what secret they hid among the tall walls of the mansion.

"Y/N?" Your heart stops beating for a second when a high, childlike voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Your eyes focus back on the man in front of you. "Yes?" You ask back, gasping. "Are you going to leave?" He asks. It's a dangerous question. You hear the silent warning underneath his words. "No, Brahms," you force yourself to speak. "I won't leave you." He nods. Even through the mask, you can see the satisfaction that your reply brings to him. "Did they hurt you?"

Did they hurt you? You have to think about his question. You don't remember. Everything happened so fast. In one second, you were asleep, and the next, you woke up at the sharp sound of breaking glass. You went to see what it was, and before you knew it, chaos ensued. Brahms broke through a mirror and killed everyone. Well, expect you.

He steps closer, and your back presses against the wall as you try to keep your distance from him. His hand lands on your shoulder, sliding over the curve until he reaches your neck. His touch is surprisingly gentle.

Oh, now you remember. One of the men grabbed your neck when they noticed you. Your head is still dizzy because of it. And because of everything else. "I'm fine," you tell him. "Please, Brahms." Tears gather in your eyes as you stand still in his hold. "Please, don't hurt me." The man frowns behind the mask as he moves his gaze from your neck to your face. Your face is wet from crying. Your eyes shine with tears and panic. He shakes his head. "If you are good to me, I will be good to you." His words do nothing to calm you down, and his thin voice makes you want to cry harder. How is it even possible? The boy, the man in front of you, should be dead. Taking a deep breath, you reach for his hand still on your neck. His fingers curl around your fingers instantly. "We have to do something with… them," you tell him, glancing at the lifeless bodies behind Brahms.

You are not even sure what you should do. Call the police? You are sure Brahms wouldn't let you, and you would end up in prison without a question. Nobody would believe you. But maybe being behind bars would be better than staying here.

"I will take care of them," Brahms says. His voice is normal now, and you are surprised at how good it sounds. "What will you do with them?" You ask him. "I will take care of them," he repeats his previous words, and you get the hint. "Okay," you nod. "Take care of them, Brahms." At your instruction, the man's posture straightens. He almost seems happy that you told him what to do. "I will go and make some tea, okay?" You ask him. He is not happy about letting you go out of his sight, but the promise of warm tea after he is done makes him relent.

You know this is your chance to escape, but you can't make yourself do it. You are too afraid. And too tired. You sit at the kitchen island for what it feels like forever. You hear Brahms moving around in the other room, and you can see his dark form outside, but the greenery of the garden hides what he is doing. Well, you have a guess, anyway.

"Are you done?" You ask him when he appears under the door of the kitchen. He is even more dirty than he was. His boots are almost black because of the mud outside.

You have to clean up everything tomorrow. You stop at the thought. What? There is no way you will stay and play nanny after this madness.

When Brahms nods, you push the other mug his way, and he sits down in front of you. "How will you-?" Before you can finish your question, he pulls on the mask, and you get a glimpse of his thick beard and lips. "Oh." For long seconds, none of you say anything. Brahms just stares at you while sipping from his cup, and you look back at him with several unanswered questions. "Brahms," you break the silence after a while, clearing your throat. You are still afraid to say the wrong thing and anger him. As it seems, he has a sure place for dead bodies. He says nothing but watches you, waiting. "You were here the… whole time?" He nods. "And the… doll? It is just a toy, isn't it?" He nods again. The thought of him watching you without your knowledge sends unease down your spine. He was there the whole time, and you did know nothing about it. "Your parents," you continue. The words roll down your tongue slowly and carefully. "They wanted to protect you." You heard about him killing a little girl. Brahms nods, putting down the mug onto the wooden surface. It's empty. You have not enough courage to ask him why he did what he did. "You…" Your throat tightens. "You killed those men so easily." He reminded you of a feral beast, taking down those men easily and quickly. Even when they begged, Brahms didn't have mercy in his heart to throw them out and let them run away. "They hurt you," he says. His gaze falls on your neck, watching the dark bruise already forming on your soft skin. It makes him angry. "You came out to protect me?" He looks into your eyes again as he nods. "Will you hurt me?" He thinks for a long, horrible second and shakes his head. The dark curls on the top of his head frame the porcelain mask on his face. "The mask," you continue. "You can take it off." His muscles tense, and he shakes his head again. "Okay," you nod, looking at the clock on the wall. "It's late Brahms. You should take a shower and go to sleep." "No," he replies, and his voice is childlike and high again. You frown at his answer. "Do you want to go to sleep like this?" You ask him. He is dirty and bloody and sweaty. He shakes his head. "Then go and shower. You will sleep better." "No." "Brahms," you sigh. "It's late, and I'm tired. Please, just do as I say." After watching over the doll for weeks, you fall into your caretaker role automatically. "Will you be there?" "While you shower?" He nods. "If you want me there." You have to force your face not to grimace. "Will you bathe me?" 'No' is your first reaction, but you keep it yourself. He is so calm now. You don't want to do anything that can disturb it. "If you want to." He nods again, standing up. "Then go and get some clothes and meet me in your room, okay?" You can see he wants to argue for a second but decides against it at the end. He must be tired, too.

While you wait for Brahms in his room, your eyes are glued to the doll in the middle of the bed. He stares back at you. The dim lights reflect in his glass eyes. You are almost angry at it. There were moments during your time here when you foolishly thought taking care of a toy wasn't the biggest waste of your time.

A thought gets stuck in your head, and you frown. Your eyes are still on the doll when you hear the real Brahms's arrival. "Brahms," you say his name. He stops, watching your back until you turn to look at him. He holds his clean clothes against his chest. "Your parent. They won't come back." Your question sounds like a statement, but the man nods anyway.

You need several deep breaths to calm yourself. Upsetting Brahms won't lead you anywhere good.

"Come," you break the silence after a while. Your voice is surprisingly steady. "The sooner you get cleaned, the sooner we can go to sleep."

In the small space of the bathroom, Brahms seems even bigger. He towers over you easily, watching you put his clean clothes on the toilet through his mask. His heart is wild in his chest. He imagined you this close to him so many times before. Of course, he acted on his desires several times, but now you are awake. You know about him. And you will stay. "Take off your clothes, Brahms," you tell him, trying to look everywhere else but him as he slowly does as you say. "You don't like me?" His voice is a mix of his real and childlike pitch. You gulp. "Of course, I like you, Brahms." "Then why don't you look at me?" He is confused. You don't like how he looks like? Maybe you would prefer Malcolm instead of him? The thought angers him. That man is weak and incapable of protecting you. You force yourself to look at him. "I just thought you would feel uncomfortable," you lie. Oh. The man calms down within a second. How nice of you. "Now go," you tell him, pointing at the already running water. For a moment, you think he will obey again, but at the last second, he grabs your wrist, trying to pull you with himself. "Brahms!" You gasp. "What are you doing?" "You are dirty, too." "I will take a shower after you go to sleep." "No." "Brahms!" You don't stand a chance against his strength. The sleeve of your shirt is already wet. "Get in with me!" The anger is clear and powerful in his voice. Blood freezes in your veins at his sudden aggression. "Okay! Okay!" You gasp, afraid. With a quick step, you are under the water, too, letting your clothes get soaked and stick to your body.

Being so close to him, you don't have any other option but to stare at his bare upper body. His skin is several shades darker, with dried blood and dirt on it. His chest is covered in dark hair that barely hides his hard muscles. How can he be so fit while living inside the walls?

"No," he breaks the silence when you reach out for the sponge. "I don't want that." After his last outburst, you decide to let it go. Pouring some soap in your palm, you smear it all over his chest. Your lungs burn for air as you stare into nothing, trying not to think about what you are doing right now. You can feel his muscles quiver and move under your touch. "Am I a good boy?" Brahms asks, making you look up at him in surprise. "Yes," you reply. "You are a good boy." "I protected you." "You did, Brahms." "And good boys get rewards, right?" You gulp. "I guess you are right." "Then take off your clothes." Fuck. "I will take off my clothes if you wash your hair. I can't reach it." The man thinks about it for a second, then nods. By the time you reach for your shirt, he is already washing his hair.

Brahms's heart thuds in his chest as he watches you get rid of your clothes. Soon, you are bare and soft in front of him. Your hair is soaked, and small drops of water run over your skin, caressing the parts he wants to touch, too. His large palms almost burn with need, and his fingers twitch with need. "Am I still a good boy?" He asks, staring down at you. He doesn't even try to hide the fact that he is mesmerized by your breasts. Your nipples are hard peaks almost grazing his chest. "Yes." Your reply is barely louder than a whisper. "Then I can wash you too." It's more of a statement. "Brahms, I don't think it-" Your words end in a startled gasp as he tugs you closer without your permission. His hands are large on your back. His erection is pressed between your bodies. The friction makes him grunt. He caresses your skin, starting on your back and slowly but surely slipping to your front. His thumb flicks over your nipples, playing and teasing them. "Brahms!" You want to sound stern, but your voice trembles at the pleasurable feeling that goes straight between your legs. When he tugs on one of your nipples, your back arches on its own. He knows your body better than you think, and his little secret pulls a naughty smirk on his lips. "Y/N," he says your name, almost whining. "You said I am a good boy." "You are," you tell him. "But you shouldn't-" Your moan is loud and clear in the small room. His long fingers slip between your legs even when you try to close your thighs. "Let me get my reward," he says, on the edge of demanding. "I am a good boy, Y/N. I protected you from those men." "You did," you cry out, feeling him on your most intimate part. His fingertips graze over your slit, opening you up to caress you some more. He isn't sure what he is doing, but it doesn't stop your body from reacting. You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. His breathing is heavy next to your ear, and his hips rock against your stomach. He grinds his cock to your skin for some friction and whines every now and again. "Teach me, Y/N," he says. "Tell me what to do to be your good boy." If he is a good boy, you won't leave him. You won't even try it. "M-my clit," you tell him, reaching down for his hand to lead him to the small buddle of nerves. "Rub it, Brahms. Here!" He does as you say, watching your face to see what feels good and what isn't. The man draws small circles on your clit while his fingers get soaked in your juices. He can feel the familiar pull on his balls as he continues to grind against your body. Your soft stomach feels like heaven on his aching cock. Your hands snap up to his shoulders, grabbing onto the man to keep your balance. Your legs shake, and your thighs open for his curious fingers. He feels proud when he notices it. "Call me a good boy," he pants demandingly. "Tell me I'm your good boy, and you won't leave me." His fingers on you move faster, rubbing and teasing. "You are my good boy, Brahms," you tell him, gasping and moaning. Hot coil burns in your stomach as you feel your orgasm approaching. "So good!"

You almost fall against the tiles when Brahms squats down in front of you. Your nails scratch over the wall to find your balance. For long seconds, you forget how to breathe as you stare down at the man's curly, wet locks in front of you. You can feel the cold of his mask on your thigh as he pushes it out of the way. "Brahms!" Hearing his name falling out of your lips in a shocked cry makes his cock jerk and leak even more pre-cum.

The scent of your arousal is thick and heavy in his nostrils. Saliva gathers in his mouth as he takes several deep breaths to burn your smell in his memory. When one of your hands finds his hair in a strong pull, he doesn't waste any more time. He leans closer and closes his lips around the small bud he teased a few minutes ago. The vibration of his moan strikes over your body. Your taste floods his mouth, and he can't help but crave more. He devours your pussy like his life depends on it. His tongue flicks over your clit, and his cheeks hollow when he starts to suck on it. "Fuck!" You scream, letting your head fall backward. "Brahms!" Your hips grind down on his face with fastened pace as you chase your release. His muffled whines and moans echo in the small bathroom, mixing with your cries until both of you reach your highs and fall over the edge. His cum lands on the ground until the still running water washes it down the drain while your pussy gets cleaned by his tongue. Your muscles twitch and jerk under every swipe on your sensitive center. "Good boy, Brahms," you gasp for air. "You are my good boy."

#brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire imagine #brahms heelshire smut #the boy x reader #the boy imagine #kinktober 2023 #slasher fucker

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finelinevogue · 11 days

Text

late night shenanigans

summary - you and harry are weirdos late at night

a/n : this started off as something cute and then my mind ran away with me and became … odd… so enjoy

word count : +1k

pairing : fiance!harry x reader

✨💐✨💐✨💐✨💐✨💐✨💐✨💐✨💐

“What?”

You pursed your lips together to refrain from smiling but failed miserably; your dimples popping out on either cheek.

You looked back down at your phone, staring at the new photo that had been leaked of you and Harry on the tube together.

“Whaat?” Harry chuckled. “What’s got you smiling like that?”

“No one.”

Harry scoffed, “So it’s someone?”

“Not telling.” You blushed, sinking further into bed and under the covers.

“Y/NNNN….” Harry whined, slinking his arm over your body and holding on tight.

His stubbly cheek brushed against your shoulder, making you shiver at the touch. He left his cheek sat on you shoulder, his head tilted up to look at you.

“What?” You looked down at him, forming a more-than-double chin.

“Tell me.”

And because he asked so politely.

“You.” You said softly, kissing his forehead that was slightly burnt from being out in the sun too long.

“Me?”

You positioned your phone so he could see the screen as well as you, holding it up to the recently fan-papped photo of you both.

You were sat next to Harry, your arm linked around his as you quietly conversed with each other in London’s busiest form of transport. If fans looked close enough, they’d be able to spot the engagement rings on both your fingers that you’d been keeping secret for weeks now.

“Here.”

“This was today? Of us?”

“No shit Sherlock.” You rolled your eyes.

Harry playfully bit down on your soft skin, making you thwack him with your free hand and mumbling some profanities at him underneath your breath.

He chuckled at you, “And why is this making me smile like a freak?”

“A freak?” You gasped, feigning hurt, “You can fuck off, pal.”

You pushed him away with all your force, making him roll over completely onto his side of the bed. His fault for being on your side in the first place - but he would blame that on finding it physically impossible to be apart from you.

You turned yourself onto your side, facing away from him in a huff, and leaving your phone on your bedside table.

It only took him seconds before he began his apology.

Harry started by moving behind you and curling your hair away from the side of your neck. That movement alone made you nearly give up your fake annoyance.

He moved his head to hover over your neck, giving you a moment to shove him off - which you didn’t - before leaning down and leaving his first kiss on your neck.

The kiss was only short, but as he moved his way along your neck and up to your jaw his kisses became longer. You closed your eyes and let a breath escape your mouth unintentionally.

“Never said freak was a bad thing.” He kissed your jaw again.

“Grovel alll you like. You’re still an ass.” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“I will grovel all I like, thank you.” He kissed your cheek. “After, you tell me why you’re so smiley.”

You turned around then and Harry took the opportunity to slide his arm back around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest. You were nose to nose, eye to eye.

“Because….”

You blushed. You tried to look away from Harry’s gaze but his eyes followed yours, making it impossible.

“Mm.”

“Because you’re mine.” You said quietly, but he heard.

Harry couldn’t help but smile then, leaning in to sloppily kiss his lips against yours. You pushed yourself into the kiss, wanting so desperately to feel all of him.

You cupped the back of his neck and kissed him with all your love, feeling him do the exact same thing.

He pulled back first, with red lips and cheeks.

“I love you.” He started off by saying.

“‘Course you do.”

He kissed you again for your quick comment, making you dizzy with emotions.

“And I smile like a fool in love every day knowing you’re damn well mine.”

You stuck your face into his neck then, giggling against his skin because you couldn’t hold back your excitement of falling in love all over again.

“I love you.” You mumbled into his neck.

“‘Course you do.”

You came out from the safe hiding spot of Harry’s neck then.

“Can’t wait to use that line at the end of the aisle.” You switched to mocking a deep man’s voice then. “Do you Harry Styles take Y/N L/N to be your wife? I do. And then i’ll say ‘course you do.”

Harry stared at you with a raised brow, “You’re so weird.”

“Yeah? Well you’re marrying me. Makes you weird too.” You kissed him again.

“My weird freak.” Harry kissed you.

“When did you stop calling me lovie or sweetheart? When did I become weird freak?”

“You’re always my lovie and sweetheart, but only sometimes my weird freak.”

“You’re weird too.” You pointed out that having this conversation was in fact weird. “But you’re mine.”

“Yeah? That’s why I called you my weird freak.” Harry smirked, thinking he’d won you over with his charm.

“You need to stop.”

Turning around you laid on your other side and Harry stayed tucked against you, spooning you tightly from behind like he did every night.

“Night, weirdo.” You said into the dark quiet of the night, to your fiancé. Harry kissed the back of your head.

“Night, sweetheart.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fiance #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles fic rec

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sweatervest-obsessed · 2 months

Note

okay so i'm thinking post!prison reid and reader break up bc he's not ready to be in a relationship after everything that happened in prison. they just don't get back together bc when spence is finally ready it's been a while and they both think it's too late and no one makes a move and they remain as friends UNTIL jj's love confession brings some feelings back onto the surface - reader finds out about it and (cue jeid and their weird, longing glances🥲) has a whole it's all really over moment and then there's distance between her and spencer until there's a confrontation about it and BAM a love confession and second chances😁😁

THIS IS SUCH A MESS but i hope you get my point</33

Um yeah so, absolutely. Some angst for you indeed. I love a convoluted and angsty fight, especially whenever someone is arguing in circles with someone else because they're both just so passionate but angry, anyways, heheh, enjoy!!

WC: 1.5k

TW: Arguing, mentions of violence, mentions of prison, mentions of guns, honestly if you watched CM then that is your TW.

“I just want to know why you’ve been so distant lately. I mean, this is the first time I’m speaking with you one on one in over a week, and it’s because I manage to catch you in the office at nine fucking pm Y/n.”

"So what do you want me to say, Spence? What could I possibly have to say to you? I'm pretty sure Jennifer said everything there is to say."

This caused Spencer to lose all of the oxygen in his body. It froze up. You weren’t supposed to know what JJ had said, no one was supposed to know what JJ had said.

You and Spencer were in the bullpen of the BAU. Luckily for both of you, since it was so late, no one else was there. Neither of you were extremely public when it came to your relationship, which meant neither of you would have chosen to have this conversation fight in a public place, but no one else was around.

I want you to say something you're afraid to say. Something you'd never tell anybody. And you better make it good. Cause if it's not, it's going to be the last thing you ever say. What's it gonna be?

“How did you know about that?” He whispered.

“JJ asked Garcia to go through the footage, apparently she wanted to make sure no one could ever access the audio from it.”

"Y/n I--" Spencer closed his eyes, his jaw set. He didn’t even know what to say at this point. You had both clearly made up your minds about this, yet neither of you wanted to see the carnage, the outcome of it all. So, instead, you chose to stand in the middle of the bullpen, fighting against one another.

Fighting for one another.

"I just don't understand why you're so upset about this."

“Spencer–you didn’t even tell me about it, I had to find out about it from Penelope, and who knows who else she told. You were afraid to tell me, yet that giant genius brain of yours can’t, oh I don't know, comprehend just a teeny tiny little bit why this makes me upset?" For the millionth time this evening, you scoffed.

Something you would never say aloud, not even to your partner. Your deepest, darkest secret. Impress me, or I'll kill him.

"Y/n--"

Spence, I've always loved you. I was just too scared to say it before, and now things are really just too complicated to say it now. I'm sorry, but you should know.

"Fuck Spencer I have been in love with you since I first fucking joined this team." You gasped out. The air around your head got thinner and felt dizzying like you were floating through the air now that this was off your chest. "And I loved you when you asked me on a date. I loved you through Emily's death. I loved you when you asked me to move in with you. I loved you through when Morgan left the team. I loved you through Hotch leaving. I loved you through fucking Cat Adams. I loved you even after I came home one night and you were making out with her against our fucking door. I loved you through every single case and every single flaw. I loved you when you fucking relapsed a few years ago. I even loved you when you went MIA for weeks and then found out you were in a fucking Prison. And I still fucking love you now. But, instead of being together, you asked for a break."

"That's not fair..." He whispered.

"What? Respecting you and your boundaries? Knowing that you needed time to readjust after you had been released, and believing in your promise that once you felt ready to try a relationship again you'd come to me and talk to me about it? And then watching as you fall for JJ all fucking over again? With your stupid fucking glances. This isn't a goddamn tv show Reid, I can see when you both stare at one another across the room, I can see it."

"We don't.."

"You do. You both do. And then, you tell me that Jennifer fucking Jareau is willing to make her last words the fact that she has always loved you and has always been in love with you, and you---" Your voice froze, the sound cutting out. You looked straight at Spencer, not caring about the tears running down your cheeks. You watched as his hand twitched up. When the two of you were dating, Spencer used to wipe away every single of your tears. But now he wouldn't even lift his hand.

"I--what."

You took another breath, trying to calm down, and really think through your words. "This woman who has been your best friend for over a decade just fucking confessed her love for you, in a life-or-death situation, and you're telling me, that she just fucking made it up, pulled it out of her ass, or at least is telling you that she did and now the two of you are going to act like everything is normal and okay?"

"Y/n..."

"You were in love with her for years Spencer. And now, all of a sudden she confesses her love to you, and that changes nothing?"

"No, Y/n, it doesn't. It changes nothing. Does it hurt a bit? Yes. Does it change the fact that I love you? No." Spencer was trying to keep his voice level, hoping you'll continue to match his volume since he didn't want anyone to potentially stumble by and hear your argument. His hand reached for your wrist, but you couldn't bear to feel his skin against yours.

This caused you to let out a water laugh, tears sliding into your mouth, ugly but pouring down your cheeks. A waterfall of grief in all of its rawest forms.

"You still love me."

"Why-Why is that funny."

"I have been waiting to hear those words since you walked out of that fucking prison and the first time I hear it in years, it's because you're trying to justify loving someone else."

"That's not true."

Make it a million and one, you scoffed.

"I have loved you since the moment you first walked through those doors. You were in a pale blue pair of pants, and a black sweater--I remember it because Emily complimented the pants. I spend my whole life loving you and manage to never fully give you every single piece of love I have because there's simply not enough time in the world. I would kill for you. I would go to prison all over again if it meant you would be okay in this world." Spencer ran a hand through his hair, his voice strained. But his eyes never left yours. "Last week, when that unsub had his gun against your head, I fired before he even spoke, not because I assessed it was the right time or whatever fucking excuse I gave to Emily. I fired that bullet because if you died in front of me, I'd......The only thing I was thinking about the entire fucking time JJ and I were stuck in that room was how the fuck I was going to be able to tell you I love you one last time because I wasn't fucking smart enough to take my chance and say it to you every single day."

Your chest was heaving, but you didn't move towards him. It didn't feel right, it didn't feel real.

Spencer was able to take your hand in his, enclosing it between both of his, trying to get you to look at him. "I should have told you the moment I was ready to try a relationship again, but I thought you...I thought you had moved on because I wasn't worth waiting for."

This caused you to laugh again, eyes red from crying. "Don't fucking start with that shit Spencer.''

"I'm telling the god's honest truth."

"I waited for you throughout all of Prison. I waited for you through Maeve. I am still pathetically standing right fucking in front of you, waiting for you to hopefully realize that you still love me."

He kissed your hand. "And I don't deserve you at all for it."

"Do you still love her?"

"Y/n."

"Answer the question, Spencer. Or I'm done. I-I can't do this any longer, watching you....the way she looks at you just--"

Spencer pulled you into his arms, enclosing your body in his arms and kissing the side of your head. "I have always, and will always, love you Y/n Y/l/n. And I want to spend the rest of our lives proving to you that I would choose you, I want you, over and over again."

“That’s not an answer Spencer.” You whispered, rigid in his arms.

“I-I.” He closed his eyes. “I did. And I still do love her, but not like that. I haven’t been i-in love with her since the moment you walked through those doors.”

Spencer felt the weight of your head against his shoulder as you finally conceded and hugged him back, tightly. “Let's go home.” He muttered into your head, waiting patiently for you to hum in agreement.

Neither of you moved though. You both stood there, locked eternally in the other’s embrace, enjoying the peace you felt for the moment, even though tomorrow was a new day, where you would have to sort through how you really felt about all of this.

But tonight, you stood with your arms around your love, forever.

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Text

Impure

18+

This is so dark and fucked up and I should be doused in holy water because of this but imagine Step dad Bucky lusting after you and how fucking innocent you are. That pretty little silver ring on your finger is practically begging for him to ruin you.

“You’re a good girl” He states, struggling to keep his voice neutral, the hint of a growl lingering in his tone as he takes your hand, nodding to the purity ring sitting on your finger.

You nod, keeping your eyes away from his, trying to ignore the way your stomach churns, your body feeling warm feeling his rough calloused hand. Something about the way he looks at you makes you feel dizzy and weak in the knees, his steel blue eyes looking into your soul.

****

You know its wrong but you can’t stop yourself, the throbbing between your legs aching. You’d always managed to ignore the feeling before but tonight you can’t. You sigh in relief letting your fingers rub the ache away, your body feeling hot at the new feelings tingling through your body, gasping when you brush over your clit. You speed up your ministrations, whimpering as you feel a deep pressure building in your core, shame and lust clouding your mind because you’re thinking about him.

Little do you know you’re driving insane because he can hear every moan and whine dripping from your lips as he passes your door, his cock leaking at the thought of an innocent thing like you pleasing herself. He thinking about your pretty little hand, that damn ring on your finger, it taunts him.

“What are you doing princess” Bucky cracked your door open, cocking an eyebrow, his eyes trailing to where your hands are in your panties, wetness dampening your sheets. You squeaked, pulling your dress down, trying to cover yourself, but its too late, he’s already locked the door, stalking over to your bed like a predator that's caught his prey.

“I-

“Shh, let daddy take care of you princess” He whispered, sitting on the edge of your bed, moving his hand up to stroke the soft skin of your inner thigh. You whimpered, squeezing your thighs together, your eyes growing wide when he takes your soaked fingers, sucking your arousal off. He moaned, greedily lapping his tongue on your finger tips, holding your hand in place after he pulls away with a pop. “Let daddy help with that little achy feeling”

You can’t even get words out, letting him spread your legs and pull your panties off, your tummy fluttering hearing him undo the zip of his jeans. He pulls them off enough to get his cock out, too deep in wanting to ruin your virgin cunt to care about preparing you. He rubs the tip of his cock on you, smirking at the way you moan, pleasured sighs slipping past your lips.

“We-we can’t” You manage to stutter out, but your legs are still wrapped around him, your desperate pussy screaming.

“It’ll be our little secret” He whispers, toying with the ring as he pushes his cock into you, groaning at the way you cry out, the stretch burning and pulsing.

“Let me in baby, let daddy help you” He grunted, forcing his cock in all the way into you, thrusting immediately, getting off on the way you cling onto him, begging for him to slow down.

“You can take it you little slut, you’re not a good girl” He taunts, leaking into you, smirking against your skin when you whine in protest.

“Look at you, taking your step dads cock like a whore. Spreading your legs like a slut, craving cock, you’re dripping making a mess” He gripped onto your hand, growling at the way the silver ring glinted under your bedroom light, “Such a cute little virgin, have you thought about cock before princess? You ever thought about how it’d feel, having a man tear your pussy apart, letting him shove his dick into all your tight little holes?”

“N-No!” You shook your head desperately, you’d always pushed those thoughts away, refusing to give into sin, saving yourself for the right man.

“Then tell me baby, who were you thinking of when you were playing with your princess parts” His eyes bore into you, challenging you as he sped up, pounding you into the mattress.

You whined, biting your lip, not wanting to say anything, trying to hide your face from him, how could you tell him you were thinking about-

“Thinking about your step dads cock huh, is this how you wanted me to take care of you baby? This is what you needed, your slutty little pussy needed her daddy to make her cum?” His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing the sides, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re running around with this pretty little ring around as if you don’t think about my dick inside you? As if you’re not wetting your bed, rubbing yourself, trying to make yourself feel good but you can’t. You need my cock baby, you’re just a filthy cockhungry whore”

“M’not a whore” you whimper, a soft little pout on your lips making Bucky even more feral than before. He bit your bottom lip, tugging in between his teeth as he continued to slam in you, groaning at the way your eyes rolled back.

“Shhh, take it baby, my dirty little girl, not so innocent, are you?”

“I am” you sob out, clenching around his cock, your juices squirting out of you as you climbed higher and higher. Bucky could feel his balls throb, ready to bust in you, his cock throbbing at the vice grip you had on his length.

“C’mon baby, you know you want to, you know it’s wrong huh? You know it’s bad, good girls don’t to that, good girls don’t think dirty thoughts” He taunted you further, a wicked grin curling on his lips at the way you fluttered at his words. “Good girls don’t spread their legs like this or play with their little pearls, you know that right baby? Good girls wait till marriage, but not you huh princess?”

Your moans grew louder, throwing your head back as you felt the pressure build again, pleasure and tightness making your cunt throb around his cock. You bit down onto his shoulder making Bucky growl in pleasure, unable to hold off any longer. He started to jack hammer into you, warmth crawling from the base of his cock to the tip of his cock.

“Cum, cum all over your step dad’s cock, get my dick wet you slut, give me your sweet cream baby- FUCK” Bucky roared against your skin, flooding your cunt with his cum, fucking it back into your sore pussy. He hissed as he pulled out, tucking his cock back into his pants, trying to ignore the way he wanted to take you apart again immediately after.

You panted, fiddling with the ring on your finger, gasping when he grabbed your hand before you tried to slip it off. He pushed it back down, kissing your hand before coming down to brush his lips by your ear.

“It’s our little secret, remember?”

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bambisnc · 2 months

Text

off the record [ft. j.wy]

pairing : wony x reader genre : fluffyy/crack + fake dating trope! cw/tw : kissing mention ;-; wc : idk it was a page in google docs :/

“hey. don’t look at him. he’ll get weirded out.”

“ah yes of course, because your ex showing up at your birthday party uninvited and with a girlfriend of her own is totally not more than enough to do that.”

wonyoung rolls her eyes at you. sure she’d asked you to become her girlfriend; her fake girlfriend but that was for a very good reason okay?!

it was all her ex’s fault. she hadn’t really even liked the guy that much, but the fact that he went from a blinded, lovesick puppy to be the one breaking up with her made her furious. and an angry her did not always have the most logical ideas…

when she saw him drop off his new girlfriend in front of the girls washroom (was it just her or was that highkey weird..) she lost it completely. grabbing you by the shoulders, a girl she vaguely knew from.. chemistry was it?, she immediately pulled you into a stall with a curt, “i need you to pretend to date me.” dropping from her delicate lips.

oh okay, you thought, just an average wednesday. the literal love of your life drags you into a bathroom stall (?!?@?#?$?@#) and asks you to date them. well, fake date them. it’s the same thing really, c’mon.

which is what lead to a major series of unfortunate events (not for you, to be honest – you get to spend time with The jang wonyoung, hell she can use you for whatever nefarious schemes she has cooking up in that pretty little head of hers <3) ending up with you here..

..stuck between a wall and a hard place. quite literally. with wonyoung having placed her hands on the wall, effectively trapping you against it; almost as if in a protective manner. you knew she’d been boasting about you to everyone who’d listen – there was hardly anyone who wasn’t interested in the school princess’ romantic affairs – before you’d arrived.. rather late, unfortunately.

“so are you planning on explaining why you’re late? or will you only be making sarcastic quips at everything i say~?” she asks with the sweetest smile but you will not be falling for that. the nicer her expression is, the more scared you should be is the one thing you’ve managed to learn from having had her arm wrapped around your waist for around 3 weeks now.

“i told you there was just an .. issue. nothing you need to concern yourself with.” you reply back, avoiding her piercing gaze to the best of your abilities. (spoiler you're not really very successful in doing that...)

she’s never been one to back down or leave a matter though, “i’m your girlfriend. how can i not concern myself with every single thing about you.” you’re just about to point out that you are, in fact, just a fake girlfriend but before you can wonyoung interrupts you, tilting your face towards her in a way that leaves your lips inches away from hers (and leaves you completely breathless), her tone dripping with urgency, “he’s looking. kiss me now.”

[series m.list]

notes : creds for idea and honorary dedication to ml @kyuusberry!!! ♡︎ + [m.list]

#order's up~! 📋⋆𐙚 #cakes.♡︎🥮#[something secret n dizzying]#limasxx + 2592 + parisinvlogs pics creds and benkeibear for divs #ive x reader #jang wonyoung #wonyoung #wonyoung x reader #jang wonyoung x reader #ive headcanons #ive #girl group imagines #kpop gg x reader #kpop gg #wonyoung ive #ive wonyoung #wonyoung x you

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sminiac · 3 months

Note

Heyy can we get soul bf if not its okay i really live your intak,theo and keeho ver.

⋆ Haku Shota + Reader

💌 — Of course I can my sweets! Thank you sm <3!!!

Bf!Soul who buys you the silliest gifts whether he’s travelling or not, the type to see ads of utterly ridiculous items that would have no practical value to it and still put them into his cart without hesitation and giggles to himself when handing the package to you when it comes in, wouldn’t say a word even if you repeatedly ask him what it is, just sits and waits patiently for you to open it.

Ex: Sometimes he even goes out of his way to buy you matching accessories, but sometimes it’s the most absurd looking thing you’ll ever see. Also yk how he has 2 custom rings of his dogs? He’d 100% get custom pieces for the two of you, the design pertaining to something that only you and him understand! Would also get a few pieces with your initials engraved in the back, another little secret only you’d know about.

Bf!Soul who doesn’t like messaging you when he’s away, he absolutely will when there’s no other option but he’d much rather hear your voice, and he makes sure to tell you too! “I just missed hearing you talk to me that’s why I called, it makes me feel better, you know?” He’d also send you little texts throughout the day to keep you updated on where he is, what he’s doing, but they’d never be in great detail, you’d look down randomly at your phone and there’s just: “Baby I ate a bug!!” and “Walked head first into a pole >ヮ< I’m okay I think”

Ex: He’d also frequently tell you “I miss you” but every time he’d explain why, and it would almost always be a different reason each time :,)

Bf!Soul who is such an affectionate person, hugs and kisses given to you for the smallest reasons, you open something for him? You’re suddenly being smothered in kisses, they’re so quick and gentle that before you know it he’s pulling away like he didn’t just leave you blinded and dizzy from his lips. Also the type to hug you unexpectedly, just slowly raises his arms leaving his chest open until you get the hint and pull yourself into him, the same with holding your hand, but instead he’d keep reaching, pulling, trying to dig his fingers to his designated spot between yours.

Bf!Soul who builds you the cutest, most aesthetic buildings you’ve ever seen in your shared Minecraft world, the amount of time and effort he’d put into making everything pretty for you is insane. Takes care of your cats, dogs, and other random plethora of animals when you’re offline, would also leave you random little signs with messages on them for you to find whenever you’re active again, sometimes they’re just silly nonsense, others you’ll find really cute ones of him just completely gushing over you.

Bf!Soul who I feel like is so “Guess what Y/n did?” To his members, a constant yapper about you, if you’ve done anything to your hair recently, that one makeup look you did, that outfit you wore, that thing you said, everything and anything he’s constantly connecting to you and then he just has to tell everyone!

Bf!Soul who lets you do anything you want to him, he’s just pure putty in your hands! You want to put his hair in cute pigtails again? He’s already finding a spot between your legs so you have easier access to his head. You want to see him in a certain outfit? He’s laying out all of his options for you to pick from, and he doesn’t complain even one bit throughout the process.

Ex: Small spontaneous photoshoots happen quite often with this, does so many poses for you, even refers to you as his ‘pretty photographer’ when crediting you in the caption of his posts for taking the pictures of him.

Bf!Soul who would request of you to send your favourite songs to him just so he can make a freestyle video for you :,)

Bf!Soul who I feel like puts an incredible amount of effort into conveying his love for you, he really appreciates someone who can even help him, whether that’s guiding him into the words he can’t seem to find or just simply being patient with him. Likes cuddling into you while you play with his hair as he rambles on and on about you, what you mean to him, how lucky he must be to have found someone so reactive to his energy that not a lot of people can match in the way he feels is genuine. When he has the time he really gets into the details about how he feels, the emotion behind it, I feel like he’d really like the deep, touching talks late at night where everything just pieces together right in front of his eyes thanks to your presence, your kind heart. He could talk to you for hours, things are just easy with you.

#bf!p1harmony #haku shota #haku shota x reader #p1harmony haku shota #p1harmony soul #p1harmony soul x reader #soul p1harmony #p1h soul #p1h soul x reader #p1h soul imagines #p1h haku shota #p1harmony x reader #p1harmony fluff #piwon imagines #piwon x reader #piwon fluff #piwon #soul x reader #soul

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brilium · 7 months

Text

❥ K I N K T O B E R 2 0 2 3

Masterlist

➽──────────❥

❥ DAY 3. Camgirl! with Eren Jaeger

Summary. Eren got you a tulip necklace on your birthday, one that you never take off, not even during your livestreams on a secret site at night. And Eren could recognize that necklace anywhere.

Content Warning. Fem! reader, no use of y/n, all characters are adults, smut, use of a toy, overstimulation, maturbation (both receiving).

Word count. 3,056.

MINORS OR AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT !!

Seeing how you get so excited by receiving something so small and simple as a necklace with the shape of a tulip makes Eren's heart throb uncontrollably from excitement.

He created all the design from zero, keeping in mind one time where you told him that your favorite flower was the tulips. Every minute of designing it and working long shifts to pay it totally worth it when you jumped on his arms giggling about how grateful you were to have a bestfriend like him.

Even though he had some girlfriends in the past, his big crush on you never disappeared completely.

Small touches and risky jokes about how it would be if you both would start dating were the farthest that he achieved to make you blush and think a little of the idea of dating him.

This was making him go crazy, but he enjoyed those moments when you kept hugging him longer and tighter than usually.

Some weeks later after giving you that gift —and loving the fact that you never take it off— he came home early from Uni tired from his assignments. All that he wanted was just to find something to distract himself a little and forget about all his final projects piling up on his desk.

Looking at the clock it was still too soon before Armin came home from work, and the games on his console were updating.

Since he was alone, stressed and single, he opened a tab with a particular logotype that he usually only opens late at night. He reminds himself that it will be quick and just to relax a little before starting working on his lab reports.

Anyways— the neckline that you chose to wear today combined with the necklace were calling for his eyes all day, almost feeling like you noticed the way his eyes darted down in the middle of your conversations.

While fighting with his inner thoughts, he starts to scroll down with a blush on his face.

There were the usual miniatures of the typical plots, maybe it was on his saturated brain but any of those titles or previews were particularly calling for his attention.

When he clicked back to the top of the page, the option of "Livestream" awakened an interest in him.

He didn't usually watch those thanks to being used to watching this kind of stuff at night since his schedule and Armin's were almost the same, which led to not having too much time alone at home.

But today things were a little bit in his favor, so he clicked on it.

There was a top ones where you could only access if you paid a fortune for it, so he scrolled more to find the ones of the "Rising stars", one of them was called "TulipGarden" which made him smile at the sudden thought of you coming to his mind.

When he checked the profile, there was only a cutted photo of a girl in a red bra. The photo only showed her smile and her breasts, which gave him a small hint that the girl was cute, so he clicked it and paid a considerably smaller amount to enter.

Eren throws his head back sighing while the charging screen loads the stream, it's the first time he does this and it feels a little weird. Connie once confessed that he spent like 200 dollars on a cam girl he used to follow. He's not the kind of guy who crushes instantly on a hot girl like his friend, so this might be a one time thing.

"Oh! Welcome to the stream, KrugerSoldier!"

The sound of that familiar soft voice drives a cold shiver through his spine, causing him to straighten on his seat and look immediately at the screen in a way that makes his head go dizzy for some seconds.

There you are. Well, a part of you, since half of your face is covered with a white burlesque mask. But he could recognize that voice anywhere, just like that hair, those lips, that skin, and specially: that necklace.

Eren has to bite his lower lip when his eyes can't get off from how that necklace swings between the curve of your clothed breasts with a white lingerie while you lean over to the screen to read the comments. Letting all the viewers see how good your tits hang almost exposed.

Thankfully, he chose as nickname the last name of a friend of the family who used to take care of him when he was a child, so you don't know yet that it's your best friend.

Sorry, Sir Kruger, hope anyone who knows you finds about this username.

"Okay, since there are some new guests on my stream I'll repeat the donation goals!" Since you were seated again on the chair, Eren's attention got back again to your masked face. "Listen carefully! I won't repeat it, okay?"

Eren nods completely stunned even if you can’t see him. At this point he doesn't even care if Armin comes and opens the door to find him in such a compromising situation.

“Well, as you know, through the donations you can control my… toy” Your face gets blushed, even if your cheeks are half covered, the viewers can notice the cute blush growing on them. They love to see your shy reactions previous to the show of how the lust gets all over you, causing the notifications to start blowing a little and make you bite your lip as you close your eyes, throwing your head back. “Yeah… Just like that”

The donations are just like one or five dollars, so the vibrations aren’t intense, but enough to have you already squirming on your seat struggling to keep talking, you can only whine and thank them for the donations with a broken voice.

Oh.

So she's into that.

Eren’s reaction is not far from yours with his head thrown back like yours, his hand is already squeezing softly his hard cock above his gray sweatpants and the soaked spot on his boxers might betray him soon.

Your voice is coming out stained, trying to keep talking through the stimulation of the small pink toy vibrating inside your core as the notifications keep coming.

“G-God! Fuck…” The notifications stopped a little, but the insane wave of them interrupted your words by leaving you breathing hard as you try to recompose and hols the border of your desk to look again at the screen. “Y-You missed me a lot, as I see. Well, as I was saying–”

Kruger Soldier has donated 30 dollars!

A louder “Ding!” resonates on the stream along with the high pitched moan coming out from your mouth as the strong vibrations invade you for some seconds.

You squirm on the gaming chair like you’re trying to escape from the small toy buzzing inside you, covering your mouth and trembling as the site blows a banner saying “Congratulations! Second goal achieved: Getting off from the underwear!”

Even if Eren’s aching cock is already being tortured by his hand stroking it harshly up and down, he’s surprised about how hard the vibrations were sent due to his high donation.

Truth has to be said, he planned to just donate 20 but his finger slipped while he was freeing his erection from his pants.

But he’s not complaining when he sees you sliding down the braces of your bra with a lustful smile, biting your lip while your body is still trembling.

“I see that the new one is a little eager, huh? If you keep that peace I might think of giving you a reward…” His eyes widen, not only by knowing that you’ll reward him if he spends his entire wallet on making you squirm in front of hundreds of strangers, but also by the sight of your bare tits on display for him.

He has fantasized a lot about seeing you naked when he’s touching himself like now. Imagining how they would bounce after taking off your bra while you ride him, and that thought can finally be checked on his list of fantasies— at half, at least.

He lets out a stained moan coming from his mouth squeezing himself a little harder seeing how you shake them in front of the camera. His mind is going more dizzy right now, he could die right now and he’d be totally happy that his last view is how good that necklace looks between your breasts.

And when you shake them on camera? God— He might fucking cum already.

Best fucking present in the world.

The notifications start to blow again, getting a little higher numbers just to get you on the sweet edge of pleasure just like always.

An idea comes to your mind since there's such a good welcome this time, and you take a quick glance to the bed behind you.

Your desk is just in front of your bed, just for ease when the streams get a little more heaty, this kinda looks like an occasion for it. But you need a little reassurance from your viewers, just to be sure.

“Y-You guys are being so good to me today… Should I– Fuck!” Eren has sent another multiple small donations that make you break the character for a little, making you tremble and see again how good those tits look when you start to shake.

The moans can't be held when the vibrations are being sent without a break for you. Your cunt is dripping on the small toy and you have to tangle your fingers on your hair while the other squeezes your breast to not, finally, rub your clit to reach the orgasm.

“You really like to tease me a lot this time…" You see the comments praising you for such a good show and you take a breath before continuing, trying to keep the character. "D-Do you want me to get on the bed for a better show? One for no, two for yes. But I'll leave the decision on our new good visitor, Kruger Soldier. Just for being so good to me, y'know."

The small body on his screen is trembling, already feeling close and you have just reached the second donation goal to get naked, but the way you still manage to keep the act makes Eren snort with a big smile.

You're so cute.

But for you he's the devil.

That damn viewer is sending you so many constant donations that at this point you could cum just by seeing his name on the screen, predicting that this might be the donation that might be getting you screaming his username.

Kruger Soldier has donated 10 dollars!

Even though the vibrations make you moan sharply on your hand, it disappoints you a little that he chose to keep it on the chair.

“O–On the chair, will be then.” You huff, still squirming but a little sad, until another wave of vibrations startles you on your seat in a cry.

The notification sound comes again, from the same user, but this time it comes with a message: “Srry. You said two for yes, right? My bad:)”

You bite your lip at the message after you recover from the intense stimulation, holding your laugh.

This person is clearly teasing you, but you’re starting to enjoy this little game. Anyways, you’re always grateful for a good tip during your streams.

Eren is already close to the orgasm when you get on the bed, letting the camera catch how good your naked boy looks. But he won’t cum now, even if his balls are begging for the release he won’t. He wants to cum with you.

No, he needs it.

When you get on the bed facing the camera, he gets a little sad of not being able to get the view of your ass in delight for him just like your tits before, but he won’t start complaining right now that his red tip is almost exploding with an orgasm.

With small donations of 5 dollars, Eren doesn’t even gives you time to get comfortable on the bed, already having you bending on the bed, with your chest pressing on the mattress as you hold the sheets on your fists, trying to hold something to repress the hard waves of pleasure covering you while your knees try to keep your ass up to give the viewers a good view of the curve of your back.

There's still a part of you that chose this position to let you enjoy the pleasure, wrinkling your eyebrows through the torture of the pleasure and being free to scream on the sheets.

Your moans are harder than ever in a stream before, due to being a “rising star”, your donations are usually small and not that constant, so you aren't used to being this stimulated.

But this new viewer is so stubborn with the notifications that you’re almost forgetting that you’re on live when your hand stops grabbing the sheet to rub almost violently on your clit to reach the sweet orgasm.

On the other side, Eren is already sweating hard, wanting to take off his hoodie to stop dropping on his clothes like he just finished working out, but that would mean stopping giving him pleasure just at the same time as you as he keeps donating.

“Fuck— Please cum, dear…” His voice is already so needy, a small tear coming out from his left eye as his hand gets a rougher and messier peace.

You both already forgot what you are doing, what page you are on or even the fact there are a lot of other people watching you.

The screams of your pleasure are being sinked on the matress but the camera still gets your legs shaking and your cunt tightening around the —fucking still vibrating— toy. You cry hard against the sheets as you ride the orgasm when the viewers start to enjoy your high.

It’s then, when you scream hard against the mattress and your body shakes and rolls on the bed, compulsing and arching of the pleasure that the vibrator is giving you. You grab your tits, thighs, hair and the sheets trying to control the intense shaking of your body as the juices of your cunt blow, soaking on the mattress and making a wet lustful mess of a squirt.

Meanwhile, Eren is cumming harder than ever in his life in a loud moan that chants your name and covering his hoodie and sweatpants with white strings and stains of cum.

He knows that this is going to be a headache to clean, mostly because it is his favorite hoodie because you gifted it to him on christmas but it’s okay.

You won't get mad if you're the reason why it's dirty, isn't it?

Seeing how you’re still laying on the bed, with spreaded shaky legs and still compulsing a little because of the hard orgasm is —even if the context is not the best— the cutest thing.

How you try to get up, holding the bed with weak arms and trying to catch your breath when you walk, trembling to the chair and sitting, fixing your hair a little and smiling shyly.

Eren is not sure if the blush on his face is because of his previous orgasm or because he's madly in love with you.

“Hey… I–I’m sorry, I think that I should…” Your voice is husky and shaky, it even gives the hint that you’ve never came like this on live since your embarrassed reaction. “I should end the stream right now, I… I’m too weak to keep going. I love you guys!”

You wave at the camera shyly and send some kisses before the screen goes black. Eren closes his eyes, still struggling to calm after what he saw and did. He didn’t expect to find you on a page like this but he also can’t complain after almost spending all his money on making you cum.

⋆·˚ ༘ *

“You should fight with your boss for a raise on your pay. Seriously.” You rest your elbows on the bar of the cafeteria, waiting for your coffee as Eren is preparing it.

“I know that you just want me to take you to watch that movie that you like.” Eren grabs your nose between his knuckles, making you whine and blush at his action.

Since he saw you on that page, he has never entered that section again. But he’s gotten more flirty with you, he wants to own you, to see that cute fucked out face again.

But only for him.

You pout at him and caress his hand when he lends you the cup, causing him to tense when your nails caress softly his veins.

“That's true but only a part of it. Come on, I miss you!” Your words make his chest throb and breathe heavy, almost making him grab your face and kiss you. “And, why do you suddenly need money? What did you spend your money on?”

Eren’s eyes glance down to your neckline, where the tulip necklace rests and slowly starts darting to your glossy lips and finally your eyes. He know that you noticed how his eyes almost ate you out but, since you didn’t leaned back from the touch, he brings his other hand up to your face and put a string of hair behind your ear, making you shiver at the contact.

"And what about you? Don't you have a job or something?" He ignores your question, looking deeply in your eyes.

You laugh softly, shaking your head, still caressing his hand with your thumb.

"No, I don't. I had one but it got boring and I dropped it." Eren chuckles at the answer, leaning a little closer to you and making your breath knot on your throat as you glup.

"That 's better. I want to be the only one who spends his entire wallet on you. No one else, okay?"

Eren has to hold himself from kissing you when you nod, biting your lip, giving you your coffee and asking you to wait for him while he changes into his normal clothes.

Maybe clicking on that stream was the best decision he could ever made.

@softlilpeachxx

#aot smut #eren jeager smut #eren smut #eren x reader #eren yaeger smut #snk smut #eren jeager x reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren yaeger x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #snk x reader #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #brilium

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badalivie · 5 months

Text

when you faint on stage

warnings: unhealthy diets, cursing, and some mentions of blood

seungcheol!

“I can’t. My performance is in a couple minutes” You huffed, almost tripping over because of the lack of feeling you had in your left leg.

“slow down” Seungcheol grabbed a hold of your waist and pulled you back up on your feet “y/n please.” Just as he tried to beg you again, your group was called to perform. He could only watch as you hauled yourself onto the stage and smiled brightly, waving and making hearts at the cameras. He hated seeing his members in pain during performances and not being able to do anything to help them. So imagine how he felt watching you, the love of his life, haul yourself onto the stage like a soldier with a duty to battle.

After 3 excruciating minutes, you were able to finish the performance. Seungcheol kept his eyes on you like a hawk throughout the performance. Biting his nails, tapping his foot, peeling the skin on his lips. He felt like his heart was going to burst from worry. The way your eyes began to close and the way your foot was fighting for balance didn’t go unnoticed by him. Just as the lights shut off, you lost consciousness. Seungcheol was fast enough to catch you before you hit the ground, tearing his slacks as his knees slid across the floor. “Y/n, doll, come on” He lightly tapped your cheeks and stroked your head “Fuck.” He cursed, picking you up bridal style and running to your waiting room.

“I don’t care what you think! I’m asking you why you thought it was okay to overwork y/n like this! Extreme diets, 17 hour schedules, are you out of your mind?! You think being an idol is easy?”

The voice of your boyfriend yelling slowly woke you up. “Baby..?” You muttered. Seungcheol’s head snapped towards you when he heard your voice and he instantly kneeled down to your eye level while you lay on the couch.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He smiled sweetly while he waved your manager and other staff away with one motion of his hand.

“Dizzy” you replied, trying to get up

“hey hey, slow down” Seungcheol placed his hands on your back and helped you sit up. “drink.” He gently held your chin as he guided you to drink from the water bottle he had bought earlier, feeding you like a baby. You drank a good amount before pushing the bottle away. “Good girl.” Seungcheol cooed, stroking the side of your head and tucking your hair behind your ear.

“what happened?”

“you passed out.” He frowned

“Oh shit not again” you face palmed. Seungcheol’s eyebrows crashed together.

“again? how many times has this happened?” He grabbed your wrist tightly and pulled it away from your face, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me.” He pressed.

“Just like… three or four times”

A serious, yet worried, expression washed over his features. “I knew it. I knew something was up with you. Why didn’t you tell me?” You sensed a hint of anger in his voice even though he tried his hardest to suppress it. You knew how careful he was with you, always making sure you never bumped into anything or strained yourself too much (which you were grateful for), so you didn’t want to trouble him when you started passing out and kept it a secret.

“because I knew you’d react like this.” You sighed.

His face scrunched up in what seemed to be annoyance before he took a breath and relaxed “of course I’m going to react like this, y/n. I’m your boyfriend, all I want is for you to be happy, and healthy. You can’t expect me to be anything less than worried.” He sighed, eventually calming down, and rested his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry,” You said, attempting to calm his nerves knowing he was probably exploding internally. You rubbed your hands up and down his arms, which you could feel made him physically relax. “It won’t happen again.”

“It definitely won’t. I’ll make sure of that. You’re gonna be okay. I’m here now.”

He’d definitely watch over you like a hawk for the rest of the month. He’d make sure you ate 3 meals a day and had a decent amount of sleep. Your manager adjusted your schedule to make it a bit lighter. How could he not? He was too scared to find out what Seungcheol would to do him if he didn’t ease up on you.

jeonghan!

“so you think I’m weak and can’t handle it?”

“That’s not what I meant at all and you know it.” Jeonghan exasperated

“Yeah well, that’s what it sounded like to me.”

Jeonghan sighed and reached for your arm, rubbing up and down “I just worry for you... That’s all...” Before you could respond, your group was called to the stage. The heartbreak he felt when you shook his hand off was incomprehensible. It started off as a joke. He was teasing you about how pale you were, but when he noticed how weak you actually were, his mood changed. “You can’t go on stage like this y/n.” “You’re too... frail...” “Look at you! You look like you’re going to fall over any minute!” Were some of the things he said. Considering your exhaustion and all his prior teasing, you were not having any of it, which lead to a small dispute.

Jeonghan quietly returned to his seat by his members when the event continued. He kept his eyes fixated on you the whole time. Every time your balance faltered, and when your knees hit the ground too hard, he flinched in his seat. You managed to get to the end of the performance, but before you could strike the ending pose, you fell to the ground. The crowd gasped and the camera flashes went wild.

Jeonghan calmly stood up and excused himself from his members, who all understood where he was going. He heard the voices of your concerned members through the speakers, but he never sped up his pace as he made his way backstage. The pace he was walking at was driving him insane. When he got backstage, away from the cameras, his legs mindlessly began to speed up, taking him faster and faster until he was sprinting to your waiting room.

Jeonghan’s heart sank when he saw you with an oxygen mask strapped to your face. He immediately turned to your manager and lost it.

You woke up to the sound of your boyfriends voice and that irritating tone of his. You only heard it when you got in big arguments with him. It was that tone that made you think he wasn’t taking you seriously, like he was mocking you. It drove you crazy. But hearing what he was saying made your heart warm.

“So what did you expect her to do? Just take it and soldier though? Do you hear yourself right now? What do you want me to say? ‘You’re a genius!’ Pull yourself together dumbass. Look at the state she’s in! Did you not have enough brain to think this far? Do you think she’s a robot?! This is what happens to a person if you don’t let them rest!”

You gently reached your hand and grazed your fingertips over Jeonghan’s hand. A shiver crawled up his spine at the contact. “Baby…” Your boyfriend fell to his knees by your side, brushing your hair back. The staff all silently slipped outside of the room, partly because they were scared of Jeonghan, but because they also wanted to give you two privacy. “I’m sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have been hard on you…” He immediately apologized.

“I’m sorry too. I know you care for me… I shouldn’t have let my exhaustion rub off on you.”

Jeonghan shook his head and smiled sweetly at you “It’s okay. I know I have those moments with you too, and honestly I’d rather you be open to me about how you’re feeling. Okay? Don’t hide it from me.” He grabbed some water and a snack from the coffee table next to you. “Please eat something. You know how hard it was for me to just watch you eat only fruits at home?”

You sat up slowly and debated at first, but when you saw the way Jeonghan was looking at you with his worried, begging eyes, you had to say yes. “Just a small bag of cheetos. That’s it.”

“It’s a step” He chirped, popping the bag open and feeding you pieces of the snack one by one.

He’d watch over you silently but diligently for the next few months. He’d subtly try to up your food intake without you noticing and he’d always cuddle you after eating a large meal, almost like a reward.

shua!

"you’re bleeding!”

You felt blood trickle down from your nose, the droplets landing on your stage outfit. Joshua ran to your side and wiped your nose with a tissue. “This is bad, y/n. Really bad.”

“I’m fine. This happens a lot” You said nonchalantly, stuffing some tissue up your nostril.

“a lot? y/n you need to see a doctor!”

“I’m fine, shua...” You tried to reassure him, but it obviously wasn’t working.

“y/n please.”

Just on cue, you were called to the stage to perform. Joshua grabbed your wrist, asking you to stay and take a break. He didn’t let go up until the very last second. He watched your performance from his seat anxiously. It was obvious to him that your blood was still trickling down from your nose. You kept looking up and wiping your nose when you walked to the side of the stage. You were like a ticking time bomb.

Just before the last chorus could start, you dropped your microphone and fell onto the cold wooden floor. One of your members helped you up and carried you backstage with the help of some staff while your other members continued the performance. Joshua pushed through the crowd and burst through the backstage doors, booking it towards your waiting room.

“y/n!” His heart sank at the sight of you laid out on the couch. Grabbing a blanket, he threw it over your body and fell to his knees beside you. Joshua grabbed your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on the back. After about 15 minutes, you regained consciousness.

“Shua..?”

“you’re awake... how do you feel?”

It took you a second to answer, feeling too drowsy to even evaluate your physical state “not so good.”

Joshua sighed and brushed your hair back, whispering softly “we’re seeing a doctor tomorrow.”

“Joshua there’s no need-”

“No. You are not arguing with me on this. I should have been more stern with you.” His voice was sharp, yet his eyes were still gentle as ever, afraid of hurting or scaring you. “We’re seeing a doctor and that’s the end of the story. If there’s something wrong with you, I want to know, I want to help. I don’t want to regret not taking you to the doctor. I can’t take that risk. I can’t to lose you...”

You cupped his cheeks and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead “And you wont...” He melted upon hearing those words of reassurance, bringing his hands up to yours and pressing them closer to his face, moving his head to the side to kiss one of your palms. “What time do we have to go tomorrow?”

“After we get enough rest.”

The doctor said you were suffering from burnout and exhaustion and advised you to get lots of rest. Joshua was happy that you didn’t have any serious life threatening conditions and that helping you get better was something he had power over. He’d pamper you but also be strict with your recovery, scolding you whenever you didn’t eat enough saying “you didn’t eat a lot, you just ate more than usual.”

jun!

Jun was usually soft-spoken toward you. He always respected and trusted your decisions whatever they may be. So when you were depriving yourself of your basic needs and deteriorating your health, he had no idea how to talk to you about it. You’d never put yourself in a situation that needed his intervention before so he had no idea how to tackle it. His hesitation lasted weeks, with multiple occasions of him saying he wanted to talk to you about something that was concerning him but it ending up with him getting too nervous and changing the topic to something else.

“Love, can we talk please?”

“Of course Junnie. What is it?”

“Are you okay-“

Before Jun could finish you were called by your manager, telling you to get on stage. You told him you’d talk to him later and ran into positions. Jun bit his lip, frowning at how the outfit you were wearing brought out how much weight you’d lost.

You were out of breath and wobbly on stage, something even the audience took notice of. Mid-performance, as your verse was coming up, you fell onto the ground, landing hard on your shoulder. Jun flinched and instinctively ran to you, propping you up on his lap and cradling your face in his hands. The cameras went wild, the flashes almost blinding him. Soon after, staff came to the stage, blocking the two of you from sight and lifted you onto a stretcher. Jun followed the staff that took you to your waiting room with his heart stuck in his throat. He knew that there would be consequences to coming on stage and letting the media see him with you like that, but he didn’t care. He just needed to make sure you were okay. After all, as long as he had you by his side, he could take on the world.

It took about 20 minutes to wake up. You blinked your eyes open to see Jun sitting on a chair across from you, head in his hands. “Junhui...” You called. He jolted when he heard your voice and knelt by your side in a flash.

“y/n! I was so worried! When you fainted I- I didn’t know what to do I-... I was so scared.” You cupped his cheeks and brought his face closer to yours, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips.

“I’m sorry.”

“You can’t keep scaring me like this, y/n. I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself. I can’t take it. This is where I draw the line.”

“Junhui...”

“Listen to me, y/n” His voice was sharp and stern, a polar opposite from his usual gentle tone. After noticing the shock on your face, he took a deep breath and softened his approach “ Please... We’re seeing a doctor, and getting you a dietitian.”

“Junnie, I can handle myself. I don’t need a dietitian-”

“That wasn’t a request, y/n. I’m getting you one”

You knew by the way he was stalking to you that there was no changing his mind. Though, you did realize that if you hadn’t pushed yourself so far, he wouldn’t have been so stern with you. Deep down, you knew he cared about you.

“Okay... Thank you, Junhui...”

His eyes softened “I’ll never let anything happen to you. You know that right?”

“I know... But hey, on a side note, I like you being strict. It’s really cute~”

“stop it” He giggled, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a kiss.

Jun would be very gentle and supportive in your recovery, making sure you knew he would be with you every step of the way. He’d send gentle reminders to eat the snacks he packed you with sticky notes of motivational messages and cradle you to sleep, smiling when he gradually felt your body gain a little more fat every time he held you.

wonwoo!

“stop it.” Wonwoo chided

“Leave me alone, Won.”

“Y/N!”

“JUST GO!” You shook his arm off, stumbling as you did so. “if you’re not going to support me, just leave.”

“you can’t keep doing this. Your body can’t handle it.”

“I know what I can and can’t handle, Won.” The way you seethed his name left a bitter taste in his mouth. He exhaled and gently tried to reach for you again.

“y/n, please... I don’t want to fight.”

You sighed “me too... Just-... I’ll catch you after my performance”. Wonwoo wanted to reach for you again and say something, but no words were coming out of his mouth. The two of you almost got in a really big fight, he knew the both of you needed space. Still, he never stopped worrying about you, not even for a second.

Wonwoo could barely sit still while you performed on stage. Every time you fell too hard on your knees or twisted your ankle, he winced. Before he knew it, in the blink of an eye, you were on the ground, motionless and cold. He jolted up from his seat, watching in horror as the staff carried you backstage. He felt his legs take him to your waiting room where he found you laid out on the couch.

Wonwoo took deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself, loosening his tie and grabbing a chair to sit beside you. He couldn’t stay still no matter how much he tried, so he grabbed a bucket, a towel, and some iced water. He dipped the towel in the iced water and wrung it before placing it on your forehead. “come on y/n...” He whispered, brushing his fingers through your hair.

“Won..?” You blinked your eyes open

“Oh thank God” Wonwoo exasperated “You have no idea how worried I was. I just blinked and the next thing I knew you were on the ground! I-”

“I’m sorry...”

“huh..? for what, love?”

“for earlier...” You lowered your head “You were right and I... I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Oh baby, you’re tired and stressed. I get it. I’m not upset because of that, I’m upset because I don’t like seeing you get hurt.” He rubbed your now bruised knees gently with his hands. “Listen, let’s get you help. Okay? You’re having problems staying up and eating and breathing and just… You need help, y/n, and I’ll give it to you. You just need to let me in. Let me help you help yourself. How does that sound?”

You stayed silent, letting Wonwoo think you were debating it in your head when in reality you already knew the answer. Of course, you would listen to him, why wouldn’t you? What kept you silent is how long it took for you to finally let yourself get help. “Okay… Let’s go to the doctor…”

“Thank you” Wonwoo wrapped his arms around you and held you as close to him as humanly possible. The two of you would have a long, thorough conversation about how you would be handling your health and what steps you’d be taking to get back to proper health. Wonwoo was patient and respectful throughout the whole process, hearing your concerns but also making his side known.

He’d say he trusted you enough to take care of yourself but he’d always be subtly looking after you even if you didn’t notice. Lots of small gestures like putting more food on your plate or getting you juice after practice and opening bottles for you.

woozi!

“This is your fault! Look at what you’ve done to her! Are you proud of yourself?!” Your hearing was muffled but you could make our your boyfriend’s voice in the room, yelling. When you tried opening your eyes, you saw his figure facing your manager, who had a guilty expression on his face. “I told you time and time again that it was too much! You never listened! Now, look what happened! You sacrificed her health for magazine shoots! Are you out of your mind?! You watched her get worse and worse and did nothing! have you no remorse?”

“jihoon-ah...” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. Jihoon froze. “baby, come here” His head snapped in your direction, and when he saw you looking at him, the crease between his eyebrows immediately disappeared. His rage had disappeared into thin air, immediately replaced with worry.

“hey, you’re finally awake.” He fell to his knees by your side, smiling weakly. His voice had taken a total 180 from how he was speaking to your manager just a few seconds ago (who was now trying to leave the room without making a single noise, afraid of what Jihoon would do to him).

“what’s going on..? why am I here..?”

“You passed out on stage.”

“I did?” You tried sitting up, but you felt too tired to do so. Jihoon noticed and placed his hand on your back to help you sit up, placing pillows on your back to support you.

“yeah. everyone was worried. I was worried.” Jihoon breathed, resting his forehead against yours. That was a habit of his whenever he was stressed. You indulged him, letting him hold you for as long as he wanted, knowing how worried he must have been. The silence was broken by a small sniffle coming from your boyfriend. “Jihoon?” You asked, partially worried but also shocked. He rarely cried. “Why are you crying?”

“I can’t take this anymore. Do you have any idea how scared I was?!” He raised his voice a little, a few tears streaking down his cheeks. “You come home at 3 in the morning with barely enough energy to give yourself a bath! You barely eat, you barely sleep, and you barely call anymore. Day and night I worry if you’re okay because you’ve started getting bloody noses often and you have a hard time standing and you don’t even want to eat your favorite foods with me anymore! It’s killing me seeing you like this. The worst part is you won’t talk to me about it! I have to find out through the staff and your friends! Do you have any idea how it makes me feel to find out that my girlfriend’s health is deteriorating right before my eyes and I barely noticed?!”

“Jihoon... I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was affecting you this much.” You cupped his cheeks and wiped his tears “I’m fine, baby. See? I’m right here. I’m going to be okay”

“You say that but you haven’t shown me anything to back it up. You’re getting worse, y/n. I know your schedule has been hectic because of your comeback but you have to take care of yourself too. If you wont do it for yourself, at least do it for me... please...”

“I will, I’m sorry. I’ll fix it. I’ll make everything right.”

“we.” he corrected “I’m with you, remember? every step of the way. I’d appreciate it if you talked to me more. Let me know when you’re in pain, when you’re tired, or sick. I want to know everything.”

“I will, I promise. I won’t hide anymore. Thank you, love. For everything”

Jihoon didn’t say anything in reply and simply kissed you. He was very patient throughout your recovery and basically nursed you back to health himself. He would often push you but you knew he only wanted what was best for you. Every time you overcame a challenge he gave you he’d reward you with cuddles on the couch or a date. You’re so incredibly lucky to have him.

myungho!

“It’s not healthy, love”

“I know but I… I need to lose weight. I don’t want to disappoint the fans”

“You don’t need to lose weight. You’re perfect. Anyway, your real fans would love you no matter how you look. Just like I do.” He stroked your cheek gently, unable to hide the concern on his face. “and you know I’m your biggest fan, right?”

After minutes of constant reassurance, Myungho finally let you join your group to prepare to go on stage. He watched the performance with his lip caught between his teeth. He doesn’t remember the last time he was this anxious. He knew your group had a difficult choreography, and he scolded you a lot at home for starving yourself to this extent. Myungho had watched your mental health spiral downwards after one particular meeting with your manager, where it all started. No words could possibly express how he felt when he noticed you getting smaller and smaller every time he hugged you. The least he could do was try to reduce your anxiety by cuddling you when you got home, cooking you your favorite snacks, making you tea, or even slow dancing with you to your favorite songs on the record player. He did everything he could, but he couldn’t help you if you didn't want to help yourself, which made it all the more difficult for him to watch.

You were a very sharp person, heck, you were the main dancer. You were a perfectionist, so when he saw you falter on one of the dance steps, he knew something was definitely wrong. You managed to finish the performance, but you were more out of breath than you should have been, and Myungho especially caught the way you couldn’t stand straight while your leader was giving a speech. “Y/n!” He whisper-yelled, which you barely managed to hear. You turned your head and looked at him dead in the eyes “come to me” He mouthed, opening his arms to you. You wanted to walk to him and just rest your weight on him, but you couldn’t seem to feel your legs. All you could do was smile before your vision turned black.

Myungho instinctively ran towards you and caught you before you hit the ground. He could hear the gasps and camera flashes from the audience but he couldn’t care less about them. “Y/n, baby, wake up.” He silently pleased, cupping your cheek in his hand. One of the staff approached him and said they had to rush you to the waiting room where the medics were waiting. Reluctantly, he let the staff take over, following closely behind.

By the time you regained consciousness you were already at home. Myungho was sitting on a chair next to the bed, holding your hand while he rested his head on a pillow. “Myungho...” You whispered, stirring him awake.

“You’re finally up” He smiled sleepily, moving his hand up to brush your hair back. “I was worried. I’m... really upset with what happened, y/n”

“What happened..?”

“You passed out on stage before I could reach you...”

“Before you could reach me..? Are you saying you went on stage?”

“Yes.”

“Myungho!” You jolted up, immediately regretting it once you felt a surge of pain through your back. Your boyfriend seemed just as surprised as you as he jumped forwards to place a pillow behind you to support your back. “So our relationship... It’s out?!”

“yeah. the public knows.”

“I’m sorry Myungho...” You sighed, letting him shift closer to plant a gentle kiss on your lips.

“You think that’s what I’m upset about?” Myungho stared at you with a mix of irritation and worry in his eyes. He took a deep breath before speaking again.

“Help yourself, y/n. Please. I can’t help you if you don’t help yourself. It hurts seeing you like this. Please let me help you.” His forehead rested against yours, he kept his eyes closed while he spoke gently.

“Okay... I’m sorry...”

“You should be... Seeing you like that broke my heart, you know?”

It would be a slow process, but Myungho stayed by your side throughout the whole thing. When you couldn’t get yourself to eat, he’d support you, when you felt guilty for eating, he comforted you. He was always there, caring for you and whispering gentle reassurances in your ear until you were healthy again.

mingyu!

"Mingyu!”

“Hyung? What’s up?” Mingyu stared at Seungcheol who was panting by the doorway of the restroom

“It’s y/n.” The older male fought to catch his breath “She passed out on stage.” Mingyu, who was in the middle of drying his hands, froze.

Everything after that was a blur. He could vaguely remember Seungcheol’s mouth moving as if he were speaking but not actually hearing anything. He could vaguely remember bumping into other idols as he sprinted his way backstage. He could vaguely remember tripping on someone’s foot and falling to the ground but immediately picking himself up and continued running to your room. Though nothing would ever make him forget the image of you lying on your waiting room couch with an oxygen mask strapped to your face.

“What happened?” Mingyu’s tone was low and dark. The only other person in the room was your manager, who placed a water bottle on the coffee table next to you.

“She fainted in the middle of her performance. The members are continuing without her but-”

“No, I meant what happened for things to reach this point? Cause I heard you put her on a 1 apple a day diet. Isn’t that right?” Mingyu towered over your manager with darkness pooling by his face as he looked down on him.

“I-I-”

“So it’s true? Now, why would you do something like that? What could you have been thinking, if you were thinking at all? Surely, you did think about the consequences, right? Of what would happen to her if you pushed her too far, and what would happen to you if she ever got hurt. Right? Do you see how skinny she is?” Your boyfriend harshly grabbed your manager’s shoulder, making him wince and groan. “Look. at. her.” Your manager turned his face to gaze at you, staring at your boney figure and feeling the remorse kick in. “Does the fact that you can see her ribs not concern you? What weight is there left to lose?”

“Gyu...” You groaned, slowly regaining consciousness. Mingyu dug his fingers into your manager’s shoulder and brought him closer.

“Leave the room, now. Y/n will take the rest of the day off to recover and she will not follow the ‘diet’ you’ve prescribed to her any longer.”

“but-”

“Did that sound like a request? You do whatever you need to do to let her have the day off. I. Don’t. Care. She will go home and you will do your job properly this time. Am I clear?” Your manager shook his head up and down frantically before Mingyu finally loosened his grip on him. Your manager practically ran out of the room, fearing to stay in the same room as your boyfriend for another second.

"gyu...” You called for him again, voice louder this time.

“I’m right here, baby. Don’t worry” He sat on the floor to match your eye level, giving you his signature sweet smile. “how are you feeling?” You felt his large hands over your own, rubbing circles at the back of your palm with his thumbs.

“Not so good... I’m a bit hungry...”

“how about this, once you feel better enough to walk, I take you to our favorite tteokbeokki place near home. what do you say?”

You smiled at the thought of going on a date with your boyfriend after stressful practice and passing out on stage, but reality hit you soon after. “I can’t... I’m on a diet... Sorry, Gyu...”

“Don’t worry about that. I had a talk with your manager and he said he’s taking you off that diet. You lost a lot of weight, it wasnt healthy.” He caressed your cheek gently and gazed at you with nothing but love and sincerity in his eyes.

“Are you sure..? Am I not too fat..?”

Mingyu seemed taken aback by the sudden question “Don’t be silly. You’re not fat, stop saying mean things about yourself. And quite frankly, I don’t care what you look like. Big or small, you’ll always be the woman I fell in love with. There’s nothing more I could want from you than to be healthy. that’s all, y/n”

“Do you really mean that?”

“of course...” He tucked stray pieces of hair behind your ear and kissed your cheeks. Mingyu began sensing your insecurity a couple of weeks ago when you didn’t want to wear one of the favorite dresses he got you because you thought your arms looked too big for it. He felt the best approach was to be gentle and supportive, making sure you knew he didn’t care about your weight. Judging by your reaction, that was the right decision.

You never found out about the small altercation between your manager and your boyfriend. That was probably for the best. He didn’t want your perception of him to change. He was still that soft, gentle, sweet boy you always knew, and he would continue to be that to you and the people around you as long as no harm came to you.

Your schedule lightened up and you spent more time at home with your boyfriend, rebuilding your confidence back up one piece at a time.

seokmin!

When Seokmin asked if you were okay, you replied with ‘sure’. He didn’t believe you. Those nights he’d find you awake in the kitchen drinking endless amounts of water, when you almost trip whenever you stand up didn’t slip by him. Still, he didn’t want to pry into what seemed your personal business until you wanted to tell him yourself. Still, he kept a careful eye on you while trying to cheer you up whenever you seemed tired.

Seokmin had many regrets. He regretted not asking what was causing you pain, and not convincing you to turn down that stupid diet. All because he knew he’d never forget how he felt when he saw you fall to the ground in the middle of your performance. He froze. His ears rung from the sound your microphone made when it hit the ground. He couldn’t understand or see anyone else but you lying on that stage while your members called for help. He didn’t care about the cameras. Seokmin got up from his seat immediately and ran backstage to your waiting room.

When you woke up you found Seokmin holding your hand in his palms close to his face with his eyes closed. “Seokmin?” His eyes burst open and he turned to look at you.

“You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“dizzy… and hungry”

He gave you a small smile. “Here, have this.” Seokmin fed you strawberries and opened a water bottle he bought for you. “Y/n.”

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t scare me like this again.” He kept his eyes on the strawberries he was picking from the box while he said that. Seokmin felt too guilty to look into your eyes.

“I’m sorry, baby” you whispered, but he still didn’t look at you. “Hey, look at me” You placed your hand on his cheek and lifted his head. “It won’t happen again. hm? I’m sorry.”

Seokmin sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist, digging his nose into the crook of your neck. “I’m here, y/n. Please stop acting like i’m not. Tell me when you’re having a hard time. Let me take care of you sometimes. I know you view me as this cheerful and funny boyfriend but you can come to me when you need help too. okay? Im here for better and for worse.”

“Thank you, Seokmin...”

He’d (endearingly) nag you for probably the rest of your relationship. He made it a habit to text you to eat and check up on you. Whenever he was around, regardless of what either of you was doing, when his alarm went off he’d grab a banana, some milk, and walk to you and say “snack time! you need your energy.”

seungkwan!

Both you and Seungkwan were busy. With him going on multiple shows and you being in a hot new girl group, your meetings at home lessened and lessened. Seungkwan noticed you losing weight whenever he saw you, but he never really thought anything of it. That was until you fainted in the middle of your performance.

He’ll never forgive himself for not seeing the signs sooner. You two lived in the same house for god’s sake!

Seungkwan canceled all his schedules for the week and took you to the hospital. There he sat by your side, holding your hand while listening to the traffic from outside the hospital window. “I’m sorry. I should have known. I didn’t know you were getting this bad...” He sighed, placing his hand on your forehead, feeling your unusually high body temperature. You had a fever, were dehydrated, overworked, and burned out. You passed out from exhaustion and still hadn’t woken up after 13 hours.

When you finally woke up, you found Seungkwan holding your hand while his head and arms rested on your hospital bed. He was asleep. “Seungkwan... baby wake up.”

“y/n, you’re awake...”

“What am I doing here..?”

“You passed out from exhaustion... you’ve been sleeping for almost a day”

It took a few sentences to process what your boyfriend had said. “Fuck... my schedules!” You tried tgo sit up in a panic but Seungkwan placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Slow down, baby. Everything’s okay. You’re on a break right now, I took care of everything. Just focus on resting okay?”

He rubbed your arms up and down, relaxing you. When you finally settled down again, Seungkwan smiled, kissing your cheek. “Hey uh... I’m sorry for not taking care of you better... We live in the same house but I didn’t even notice something was wrong.”

“It’s not your fault... I didn’t know I had already lost control of my health... I was too busy...”

“we both were...” You held his hand and intertwined your fingers with his own. “Listen, I want you to know that even if we both get busy, you can still talk to me okay? Tell me when you don’t feel well or need me and I’ll make time for you... I always will...”

“Thank you... I hope you know I’m here for you too. I know your schedule is tiring too...”

“You know, long days at work aren’t so bad either. It just means more excitement for when I get to go home and see you again” He winked, nudging your elbow in a playful manner

“Oh stop it~” You giggled, pushing his arm

You two laughed together for the first time in weeks. “Okay so here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re taking this week off and spending it at home. I’ll be attending less interviews, and your manager will be making your schedule more flexible. We’ll get you a dietitian too. Just so you can get back to a healthy weight.”

“That all sounds.... great, baby. Thank you.”

What happened to you traumatized Seungkwan, but he was also thankful for the experience. It was a wake-up call for both of you. Ever since then, you two spent more time together at home, talking about each other’s days and ranting and taking care of each other. Seungkwan never failed to make you smile with his daily checkups on you when he called.

vernon!

Vernon, who had just returned to Korea after touring for months, was more than thrilled to see you again. He sat with his group, biting his lip in a weak attempt to hold back a smile while you were on stage performing. But as soon as he saw you walk on stage, his smile faded. When did you get so thin? and pale? Your hair looked like it’d gotten thinner too... His members all glanced at him, seeing his shocked and confused expression.

“Yah, is Y/n okay?” Seungkwan nudged Vernon's elbow

“I... I don’t know... She sounded alright over the phone but this...” He couldn’t even form words to reply to his member. You looked like a different person. All the members took notice of how much you struggled on stage. You were out of breath, tripping, and faltering at every difficult move. It was a miracle that you made it to the end of the performance.

When the lights shut off, everyone heard something drop. The gasps of your members had indicated to everyone that there was an accident. While the lights were still off, Vernon rose from his seat and quickly made his way backstage. By the time he got there you were surrounded by staffs who were fanning you, placing ice packs on your neck and making sure the oxygen mask was strapped to your face.

Vernon took a deep sigh as he gazed at your frail state. When your manager walked into the room and saw Vernon standing in the corner of the room, a shiver ran up his spine. He immediately asked the other staff to step out of the room and give you space. Before he was able to slip out of the room, Vernon grabbed his wrist tightly. “I’m having a word with you later. Don’t think you can run from me.” He growled, harshly releasing your managers wrist and letting him scurry away.

Vernon pulled a stool over and sat by your side, gently stroking your hair before resting his head in his hands. “How did i not notice?” “I should’ve asked how she was doing...” “I should’ve checked up on her more.” “i should’ve-”

“Hansol...” You weakly called for him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Hey baby” He weakly grinned, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You okay?” He asked. You obviously weren’t, but he didn’t know what to say with the adrenaline still pumping in his veins.

“I’m fine...” It was a weak attempt at trying to ease his nerves, because you both knew you were lying.

“bullshit.” Vernon said sternly “how long has this being going on?”

“How long has what been going on?”

“Don’t play coy with me. You know exaclty what I’m talking about.”

You took a deep breath, this was going to be tough for you. “About a week after you left for tour...” If it wasn’t for the sound of your breathing, the room would have been quiet enough for you to hear Vernon’s heart shatter. “I just lost control... I didn’t know it was this bad... I was too busy to notice and I just... I wanted to be pretty. Not just for my group’s comeback but I wanted to be prettier for you when you came back too-”

“Y/n what are you saying?” Vernon’s comment made you glance up to meet his confused gaze. His eyebrows were stitched together with his lips slightly parted in disbelief. “Do you hear what you’re saying right now? You wanted to be pretty? Pretty for when I came back? What does that even mean?” He sighed, cupping your cheeks. “You’re beautiful, y/n. You always have been. if thats not enough and you still want to take measures to help you feel more confident in your skin, the alright, I’ll support you. But never at the cost of your health.”

Tears trickled down your cheeks and Vernon was there to kiss each one away. “I love you, Hansol.”

“I know. Do you know I love you?”

He’d be very gentle yet persistent in your recovery. He’d make sure you ate enough food even if you whined and complained about it. After particularly large meals he’d spend hours cuddling you in the bedroom and kissing your arms, stomach and legs just to let you know that he loved your body no matter how it looked like.

chan!

“I’m not letting you go out there!” Chan sighed

“who are you to tell me what to do!”

“Your boyfriend, who cares about you a lot.” He tried to gently plead with you. “I can’t let you go on stage in the state that you’re in. You just threw up, you’re dizzy, dehydrated, exhausted and it shows.”

“I can’t, Chan. This is the last performance for this comeback, I can’t let everyone down.”

“Y/n-” Before he could try reasoning with you again, you were called onto stage to perform. Chan was pacing around while keeping his eyes on the screen your entire performance. Other idols approached him and asked him if he was okay, to which he just responded to with a wave of his hand and a brief nod. Even his members came out of the waiting room and tried to calm him down because he had been out for a while. He wouldn't leave. Towards the end of your performance, Chan was already waiting by the side of the main stage, waiting for you. You made a big bow, waved towards the cameras and glanced at him. His face was pale with worry and his hands couldn't seem to stay still. You weakly made your way towards him but collapsed right before you were able to completely exit the stage. The crowd saw the lower half of your body hit the ground and murmurs could he heard in the audience.

Chan cautiously kneeled down and pulled your body towards his own, out of sight from others. He cradled your head gently in his arms “Y/n, baby, wake up.” After you didn’t respond, he quickly lifted you bridal style and carried you to your waiting room. The staff tended to you as well as they could before they gave you and Chan space. He didn’t realize he was going it, but when he was sitting next to you he started to gently massage your palms. Pressing on the soft flesh with his thumbs.

“That feels nice...” You whispered as you slowly regained consciousness.

“Y/n! You’re awake!” He smiled, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. “You worried me...”

“Did I pass out?”

Chan nodded gently “You need rest. Please, take a break. And please eat.” He tucked stray pieces of your hair behind your ear while he spoke.

“What if i gain weight?”

“So what? What matters is that you’re healthy, and happy. Let me help you, hm? Let me take care of you for once...”

He’d be very gentle and tender with you during your recovery. He’d talk to you sweetly and praise you for every achievement big or small.

authors note: to the person who requested this, im sorry this took literally forever but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless <33

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iateyourparents · 5 months

Text

little surprise | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x fem!reader

summary: you're exploring some haunted place with sam and colby when spirits surprise you with some news.

warnings: i totally made up this haunted place, use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(I'm sorry, english is not my first language)

pictures are from pinterest:)

"What's up guys! It's Sam and Colby!" Colby started talking to the camera "Today we are exploring Colers' house!"

"Yeah! People call it one of the most hunted places in Florida, so today we will see if it lives up to its name." Sam explained "But we're not alone here."

You and Katrina stood between them.

"These beautiful ladies will be investing with us today!" Colby smiled at viewers "Y/n, Kat, how are you feeling about it?"

"Nervous and excited." you smiled and Katrina agreed with you.

"So let's see if we can catch some ghosts!"

The boys stopped recording and did a quick talk with your guide and then he started showing you around the house.

The tour was quite peaceful, just a few knocks here and there.

When Sam and Colby recorded their explanation about the place for viewers you all started an investigation.

"Okay guys" Sam addressed the camera "We're in Allie's room. It's called the most active room, because apparently she's always here so we will try to contact her and hopefully she will cooperate with us."

"Yeah, as you probably already know, she spent most of her time here and was killed here. This bed is her original one and the doll you see on the desk was her favorite one. Apparently she held that doll when she was murdered." Colby explained "On the back of this doll's dress is her blood stain, unfortunately we can't show you this because the guide asked us not to touch it because of the risk of possession but we will show you a picture of it that the guide gave us."

"Okay so here I will place a rem pod" Sam said while you placed the music box next to the door frame.

Suddenly you felt weird dizziness and had to lean on a wall next to you for a support.

Colby noticed it and came to you.

"Everything ok?" he asked quietly looking at the camera and when he saw Sam was pointing it in another direction he held your hand. Your relationship still was somewhat fresh so you tried to be secretive. You were together for almost a year after being friends for a few years.

"Yeah, I just felt dizzy." you informed him "I will be okay, promise."

He nodded, although unsure, and took the camera from Sam and you all started an investigation.

When Sam was about asking if someone was with you in the room, you all heard thud, like something big fell on the floor.

"It was like from here but there's nothing." Sam said "Maybe Allie wants to talk with us."

"Hi Allie" you started "I'm y/n, we're here just to talk with you. We mean no harm, nor do we want to disrespect you or disturb you. You can talk with us and move something or knock to let us know you're with us and understand what we say."

Not longer than a few seconds later you heard five knocks.

"Thank you, Allie" Kat smiled.

"So now we will use the spirit box. You can say something to it and we will hear it." Sam placed it on the bed.

And right away it said "Hello".

"Hi/Hello" you all said and laughed.

"Allie, is that you?" Colby asked.

"Yes."

"She's answering" Sam said excitedly.

You talked with her for a few more minutes when Colby offered to do an estes method for more answers and you all agreed.

Colby sat on Allie's bed and you blindfolded him and then Kat handed him headphones.

When you were sure he doesn't hear you, Sam started asking questions.

"Allie, are you still with us?"

Immediately Colby answered "Yes."

You three asked some questions to which Allie answered and then you thought of something.

"Hey, Allie. Earlier, after we came to this room, I felt a little dizzy. Was that because of you? Or do you know who or what was that?"

"He." Colby said "Try...attack."

"Someone tried to attack y/n?" Sam asked with furrowed brows.

"Yeah." you gasped at that.

"Can you tell us who is 'he'?" Kat asked.

"Killer." Colby stated immediately "Wanted to hurt...Baby"

"The person who killed you tried to hurt y/n?" Sam tried to make sense of Allie's words.

"Tried hurt...baby."

"She keeps saying baby, maybe there's some child spirit he tried to hurt." you offered and Colby immediately denied.

"No." he was silent for a moment "Your baby...he didn't like...your baby."

"My baby?" you narrowed your brows "Can you tell us who exactly is 'my baby'?"

You saw Katrina covering her mouth while exchanging looks with you and you knew she thought of something.

And when Allie didn't answer, she offered "Is there any chance you could be, you know, pregnant?"

Your eyes got wide and you opened your mouth to answer but nothing came out. Still trying to process her idea you shook your head.

"Yes, she is." Colby said and you just stared at him.

"Allie, are you sure that y/n is pregnant?" Sam asked.

"Yes."

"Oh my god." you covered your mouth in shock. You could see tears in Sam's eyes and you knew he already was happy with news about being an uncle.

But then he realized something.

"We should take him out of trance and get out of here. If Allie is right and something wants to hurt you and your baby, we can't risk it." he stated and Kat immediately agreed with him.

"Let's not say it to Colby yet, please." you asked and they agreed and then you shook Colby's arm.

"We should get out of here." Sam stated to Colby who was confused "There might be something threatening girls. We will explain later."

Colby didn't protest. He saw shock on your and Kat's faces and Sam's teary eyes so he just started packing things.

"Thank you for everything Allie, you were very helpful. We are leaving this bear for you." you said and placed white bear on the bed. You could hear the series of knocks that you took as a 'thank you'.

When you all were in the car Colby finally asked "So what happened when I was under?"

There was a silence and Colby looked even more confused while you thought about what to say.

"Come on, don't worry me even more." Colby looked into your eyes "What happened? What Allie told you, was there someone else? Why Sam was crying?"

You couldn't keep it secret for longer so you just said "You should see what happened there on the camera."

You took the camera from it's box and gave it to Colby who immediately looked for the moment of the estes method. He was listening to the conversation when he finally saw the moment of yours realization and looked at you with wide eyes.

"You're pregnant?"

"If Allie was correct then yes, I am." you stated "I will make a doctor appointment when we are in the hotel."

He just nodded and by his eyes you could tell he was excited.

When you finally parked in the hotel's parking lot and got out of the car, Colby immediately circled the car and hugged you, and then kissed you.

"If...if you are pregnant, would you be happy?"

"I was shocked and unsure because we're not together for very long but yeah, I would be happy. And you?"

"I would be more than happy." he laughed and kissed you.

„Sorry to interrupt your cute moment guys.” you both looked at Sam „But I’m sure you don’t want to share it with a world yet, so should I tweet that our materials mysteriously disappeared?”

„Yes please” Colby nodded „We could publish the video when we’ll be ready to announce it?” he looked at you for an approval and you nodded „Okay, so we should record an outro, Sam.”

Both boys went to a side and you could see them recording.

„They look more excited than you.” Kat laughed and you did the same.

„I still can’t believe it. But I am happy.”

|||

„Hey Sam, Kat” you and Colby walked into his room where he and Kat were laying in the bed. Colby asked „Guess what?”

„What?” Sam furrowed his brows.

„It’s official, you will be a godfather!” Colby laughed and you could see tears starting to pool in both boys eyes and not more than thirty seconds later Sam was jumping onto your boyfriend to hug him.

Kat laughed and hugged you while whispering gratulations into your ear.

Then Sam hugged you and Katrina congratulated your boyfriend.

„So…” Sam started still having wet cheeks but with wide smile „If it’s a boy you should give him a middle name Sam and if it’s a girl, you should name her Samantha.”

#colby brock x reader #colby brock #colby #sam and colby #snc #katrina stuart #sam golbach #samuel golbach

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letsgetrowdy43 · 8 months

Text

Little White Lies—

Quinn Hughes x reader

Request: Quinn bringing his gf to the golf course to tag along with him, his brothers, and their dad. His gf pretended to be bad at gold for his sake…lol until they told her maybe she should go get an ice tea at the country club. But she decided to give them a run for the money…the Hughes Bros vs Quinn Gf and Jim. Jim even said he will invite her out to golfing with his friends… lol Jack even offered to bring her against Trevor. Quinn’s Gf def hustled them.

Off-season was coming to an end, meaning that the Hughes family golf tournament was in full swing.

Quinn had invited his girlfriend out with them for the first time. She wasn't invited out the past two summers that she'd accompanied Quinn to Michigan for the summer season, so she was excited and ready to play some golf.

Quinn grinned as she stood on the grass, her little white lulelemon skirt accentuated her thighs, her tanned shoulders on displayed, and hair was pulled back into a loose bun making his breath a little jagged and his head dizzy.

"Have you ever played before?" Jim asked as she stood next to him on the grass. Y/n took a practice swing, her form perfect as she held her pointer finger up to her lips, motioning for him to keep it a secret, "Ahh I see." "He gets competitive, I don't wanna burst his ego," she shrugged and sat next to the older man on his cart, sipping a Long Island Iced Tea as she watched Luke, Jack, and Quinn approach the cart.

Jack grinned, "Last game of the year, this decides who the best golf in the fam is," he mused, arm wrapping around his oldest brothers neck as his smirk grew, "as we all know I won last year, I'm feeling a two-year streak coming on." Quinn rolled his eyes and dipped out from Jack's hold making the younger brother trip from not having something to support his weight anymore.

"Don't listen to him, I have a feeling the title is all yours babe," the girl smiled innocently as Quinn melted into her hold, arms wrapped around him as she placed a kiss on his cheek. Quinn turned his head and pecked her on the lips, "You taste like rum," he whispered as he kissed her again. "Booze is the only way I'm getting through this day, and the heat," she said with a smile.

Jack groaned, "Stop being in love and lets get going!" "Okay okay," Quinn said, watching the pout on her face grow before he kissed it away, "lets go," he whispered.

Seven holes in and Y/n was putting in the least effort she could, not only was she not wanting to mess with the Hughes family tourney, but also golf was so disinteresting to her.

Quinn smiled at her as they arrived at the eighth hole, his hand on her thigh as she stared out of their cart to his brothers who were arguing in the other one, Jim driving with the most annoyed look on his face as his competitive sons bickered amongst themselves.

"Are you bored, love?" her loving boyfriend asked as they parked. "Am I doing that bad?" she asked, feigning innocence as she finally looked at him, brows pulled together with concern as he made a face that told her the answer, she was horrid. "Let me play this hole, and if I'm bad, I'll just go the bar and sit the rest out," she said with a grin. "I'm not saying you have to stop playing, you just look bored." "I know," she kissed his cheek before hopping off of the cart and pulling out her preferred club.

She let Luke go first, then Jack, and then it was her turn. Y/n turned and looked at Jim, winking at him before taking a deep breath and placing her feet in a better position, "I feel I might be getting better," she mused, Jim held back a chuckle as she swung her club and hit the ball.

The golf ball landed perfectly on the green as she turned around with a grin to look at all of the Hughes boys, a devious look on her face, many jaws dropped. "What?" she asked, dropping the bimbo act. "Your form was perfect!" "You just- have you been fucking around with us?"

The girl looked at Jim who looked thoroughly impressed, Quinn's brows were furrowed, "I thought you hated golf?" "I do," she shrugged, "doesn't mean I'm not good at it, Dad put me in lessons when I was in highschool," she said before taking a sip of her drink. "I feel betrayed!" "You'll live." "I don't think I will! I could've had you as a partner in the tourney against Brady and Matty instead of Jack!"

His girlfriend shrugged, "Speaking of tourneys, I'm gonna need you to partner with me tomorrow when I play against Cole and Trev," Jack said as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, hugging her into his side as she groaned. "I should've stayed at the bar," She looked to Quinn to get him to help her get out of it, but instead he shrugged with a smirk and looked down to his feet, ignoring eye contact. "Help your brother-in-law out!"

Quinn's face filled with amusement as she agreed returning to her boyfriend's side, "Are you mad?" "Of course not," he smiled as his arm wrapped around her, watching as Jim started to line up his club with the ball, "I'll try to get you out of that game tomorrow." "No I deserve the karma for lying," she said with a laugh, looking up at Quinn's crooked smile, her face broken out into a blushing mess as she stood on her tiptoes and pecked his lips lovingly, once, twice, and a third time before she was cut off. "Enough!" Jack screeched.

#rotalks: quinn day #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #jack hughes

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disasterofastory · 6 months

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For breakfast (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

For breakfast // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 14/14 Warnings: mommy kink, housewife kink (i guess) and breeding king

Summary: Brahms wants something else for breakfast.

A/N: Kinktober (2023) is over and my journey with Brahms is over too. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

It's still early when Brahms finds you in the kitchen. The sun is barely above the horizon, filtering through the windows and highlighting the messy strands of your hair. His eyes rake over the soft line of your neck as you lean above the counter, mixing something in a bowl. You are still in your pajamas. It's old and oversized, hiding the curves of your body he loves oh so much. A smirk pulls on his lips, seeing your bare thighs. He knows you wear nothing under the flimsy shirt. Images of your last night's activities flash across his vision. His palms tingle with the memory of your warm skin.

There are moments when he still barely dares to believe what his life has become. Even though he knows his parent did everything within their power to protect and care for him, he always felt like an outcast, living behind the walls of the manor and hiding in the shadows like a shameful, dirty little secret. But it's over now. He belongs with you and not behind the walls. And maybe, he can only hope, a day will come when he leaves this place and let you show him the world.

You tense for a second when he walks up behind you silently. His arms curl around your middle, and his head rests on your shoulder. "The bed is cold without you," he hums. "What are you doing?" "Pancakes," you reply, still mixing the ingredients in a bowl. "I wanted to surprise you." He smiles into the crook of your neck. Of course, you want to surprise him. You always find ways to show him your love and appreciation. "I love you," he murmurs, pressing himself closer to your back. His thick arms cage you against the kitchen counter. "I love you too," you grin. "Go back to bed if you want. I will be there soon." The silver tray on the table is ready for the pancakes with fresh orange juice and syrup.

Brahms has other ideas, though.

His hand slides down and cups your mound through the thin material of his shirt on you. You fit in his paw perfectly. "I'm hungry for something else." His lips brush the back of your air with each word. His warm breath fans over your neck. "Really?" You laugh. He pecks the line of your neck down to your shoulder until he reaches the neck of the old shirt. "Now?" He only hums, palming and squeezing you. His other hand slips under the fabric, running over your warm skin and reaching your breast. His hips already grind to your bottom. "I can't help it," he grunts. The edge of the counter digs into your front. Your palms are flat on the surface to hold your weight. Your pussy is already moist.

Brahms doesn't understand himself either at first, but to be honest, he tends to jump on your whenever he wants until you are a crying, cumming mess in his arms. There is just something in the fact that you are making breakfast for him in the morning. You seem soft and gentle and everything he craves after spending long years behind the walls of the Heelshire manor. He wants this for the rest of his life. He wants you for the rest of his life.

"Marry me." The air gets stuck in your lungs as his words register in your already dizzy mind. "What?" You ask, breathless. Brahms knows it's not so easy or simple since the world thinks he died many years ago, but he still needs to hear your answer. "Marry me," he replies, sliding his middle finger through your fabric-covered slit. "Be my wife. You are my love, my mommy, then be my wife too." It's hard to think straight when his fingers tease your aching cunt ruthlessly. "Yes," you gasp out. "Yes, Brahms." "Really?" He asks. "Will you be my wife? My pretty little wife? Will you take care of me? You will let me fuck this sweet pussy whenever I want?" You wheeze. "Yesyesyes." Fuck. Brahms's cock jerks in his pants. "And you will have my children?" It's another difficult topic with the options you two have, but he doesn't have enough focus or energy to think about it. He just loves the image of your round and filled, cooking and cleaning around the house. Your breasts would be even bigger. His hips buck into the plush of your ass at the thought of your breastmilk. Fuck. "Will you let me fill you, wife?" "Yes," you reply. Your eyes are almost crossed, and your lips are open with silent cries and not-so-silent moans. Brahms's hand pushes up the shirt on you until your lower body is bare for his touches. He palms your pussy again, rubbing your clit and getting closer to your hole. "I will fucking breed you, Y/N," Brahms grunts into your ear. "You will leak with my cum until my seed takes, and you will have my kid." His own words send shivers down his spine. That way, you couldn't leave him. You would be bound to him forever. "Do it," you beg him, bending over the counter some more. The bowl is pushed away and forgotten. "Please, Brahmsy." Your voice is sultry as his nickname rolls down your tongue. "Fuck your wife."

You never thought about your future with Brahms like that. You are not even sure if it would be wise, but fuck, it makes your pussy drenched.

Another moan escapes your lips when he starts to feel around your pussy, smearing your arousal all over your aching center before pushing two of his fingers inside you. Dull pain pulsate in your lower body at the sudden stretch. His other hand is on your ass, kneading and palming your asscheek. His fingers dig into the flesh while you wiggle in his hold, pushing your hips against the press in your hole. "Brahms," you grunt his name. "Please fuck me. I'm ready." The man behind you smirks, listening to the squishy sound your sweet cunt makes every time he moves his fingers. Your arousal glints on your skin and on his digits. You taste familiar and sweet when he licks his fingers while positioning himself behind you. With a quick tug on his pajama pants, his cock jerks free.

The head of his erection nestles at the entrance of your pussy, slowly opening you up even more than his fingers did. His hands are firm on your hips as he presses deeper and deeper inside you. He reaches every nerve and sweet spot, rubbing over your walls as he fills you up. Both of you groan at the feeling. He pulls away a bit, barely letting the tip of his cock stay in your tight hole before thrusting forward again. He slides inside you effortlessly. Your walls flutter around his shaft, sucking him in even more. The muscles on your arms tense as you brace yourself against the counter to move your body with him. He drives into you hard and deep, taking his own pleasure from your warm pussy while you moan and babble the whole time. "Fuck," Brahms grunts. "You are still so tight, mommy." A corner of your lips jerk. "Just for you, Brahms. Just for my sweet baby." "Yes," he agrees, repeating this one word once, twice, three times. His gaze is glued to your wet pussy as his cock appears and disappears in you. His length is soaked in your wetness. "Fuck mommy, Brahms," you encourage him, wriggling in his hold. You need him faster. Harder. "Give me what I want. Give your wife what she wants." An animalistic sound bursts out of Brahms's chest at your words. You are sure your hips will be bruised by the time he is done with you. He fucks in and out of you with increasing speed. He pounds your hole until you are pleading, drooling mess on the counter. Your legs shake under your weight. "I'm gonna cum," Brahms groans, fucking your even faster as he chases is on release. He doesn't even have a free space in his brain to think about your pleasure. The thought of him cuming inside you and fuck you pregnant takes his every sane thought. "Do it," you cry. "Cum in me, Brahms. Fuck!" Your pussy clamps down around his cock as the burning, blinding ecstasy flares over your body. Your whole body shakes, and you are sure if he stopped holding you against himself, you would fall to your bottom. Brahms fills you to the brim and starts to cum. He keeps you tight on his cock as he shoots his seed inside you. His semen is warm on your walls as your pussy clenches and flutters around him.

Colorful dots dance in front of your closed eyes while Brahms pulls out of you, watching his seed leak out of your pussy. A satisfied smirk pulls on his lips at the pretty sight. His fingers dip inside your still quivering hole, pushing his cum back and earning another moan from you. "Come back to bed," he breaks the silence after a while. "The pancakes can wait. I want to eat something else."

Excitement strikes through your body at his words. You have to force yourself to look back at him over your shoulder. "Whatever you want, husband." "Fuck!" He grunts, grabbing you by your waist to haul you over his shoulder. "You are a wicked woman, Y/N."

You are. And you found your match.

#brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire imagine #brahms heelshire smut #the boy x reader #the boy imagine #kinktober 2023 #slasher fucker

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 25 days

Text

Severance - BTS OT7 CEO au Chapter 16

So did anybody guess what was on the news? I thought it was rather obvious (it’s getting harder and harder to find gifs I haven’t used)

Prev / Next

“Care to explain this Y/n,” Junmyeon says, reaching for the remote and pressing play.

You feel your world freeze, the newscasters lips moving but the thumping in your ears drowns her out. Footage after footage of your dates, the three maknaes and you at the airport, date stamped proving you played hooky, there was nothing you could say to disprove the videos, not when in every single one they steal a kiss.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, not even a breath goes in, you’re stuck. You don’t see anything but the screen where the secret you so desperately wanted to keep was aired out for the world to witness. You don’t see Jongin desperately texting Jimin under the desk, what you do see is the channel cut to a newscaster introducing the last woman you ever expected to see, the shock filling your lungs with air so fast it makes you dizzy. Your eyes sting with tears as she starts talking, was this karma? Was this the universe telling you you made the wrong choice, that you should never have fallen for them, that you were too greedy for their love. Was this the price, the consequences?

“I think she’s hyperventilating,” the voice sounds muffled, your ears feel like they're full of burning cotton but at least someone has the sense to turn the screen off. Baekhyun fills your vision instead, hands on your shoulders with worried eyes on your form.

“Cars coming to pick her up, back entrance,” you recognise it's Jongin that’s speaking but the word’s go over your head.

Someone hands you a tissue but you don’t register the gesture until you hear a sigh. Chanyeol gently wipes your tears away, the stern look on his face softening when you look up at him. The sound of the phone ringing sounds so distant, like it was at the end of the tunnel. Jongin answers it before handing it to Junmyeon.

“Namjoon,” he greets through the line, the sound of his tone cutting through the fog you were drowning in. Joonie, you wanted nothing more than to be buried in his arms away from all this, but he wasn’t here. Whatever he was saying though the line made your current boss stare at you with an accusation that didn’t budge.

“We need to get her out without any more commotion,” he says to the others stiffly after he cuts the call.

“I’ll sort out the employees,” Kyungsoo states walking out.

The silence that follows is palpable, the lead CEO breaks it with a sigh, and you know it’s due to the aftermath he would have to deal with because of your decisions. He moves to walk past you, but you grab his sleeve before he can. You try not to flinch under his stare, your hands trembling where they hold him.

“I’m so sorry,” you say as sincerely as you can through a hoarse whisper. He acknowledges your words with a nod before he leaves. You’re quickly ushered to the corridor by the others, the sight of them shielding you like your own personal bodyguards would make you chuckle on any other day, but you were still shaking like a leaf.

All that work, all those years of making something of yourself, all the sacrifices and it came to this. Your life exposed to the world in a way that would cause it ruin. Your future at e.xo was done, no other company would ever employ you, you could never go back to work for bangtan. Everything was gone.

—

“Yeah we’re in the car, we got her out safe,” Seokjin says through the phone while Yoongi drives, his eyes glancing at you with worry.

A question Namjoon asks on the phone had Jin tensing, looking at you hesitantly. Is she okay?

“She’s not saying anything, she’s just shaking,” he sighs, he wanted to say more, how you were staring at the floor despondently, how when Jin tried to hold your hand to comfort you, you tensed and turned away.

The fear in their hearts that you regretted everything you had with them made Jin pull away, all he could do was be grateful they got to you before the media did, and in the tinted vehicle you were at least safe.

“It’s safe to go back to the mansion,” Jin tells Yoongi when he hangs up the call.

The drive is silent, they didn’t know what to say, everytime they tried the words died before they could form. Security was back in full force at their estate, running out any media outlet that tried to sneak close, their lawyers were having a field day. Not to mention the commotion at the office as they walked out, the whispers conjugated together so loud, not even Namjoon’s glare could silence them.

The gates open to the estate, and Yoongi can hear his heartbeat thumping faster and faster in his ears, it felt like they were coming to an impasse and there was no going back. The car slows to a stop, and as he kills the engine all they can do is stare at you.

Move. You had to move.

You could hear a faint commotion outside, the three maknaes running towards the car but a stern look from Yoongi stopped them in their tracks. Worry, anticipation, anxiety, no one knew exactly what concoction of emotions paralysed them, what made them hesitate to reach out to you.

“Kitten,” Yoongi starts softly, “you need to talk to us.”

That made you move, the door opening without a word in return. Your legs work against you, feeling like lead on twigs, a second away from collapsing. You couldn’t speak right now, your whole body felt empty and yet the weight of thoughts in your head made you need to bury it. You wanted your bed, you wanted to hide, and you wanted to be alone.

Yoongi shares a look with Jin, the hurt flashing between both of them at your rejection but they try not to take it to heart. You never wanted your relationship with them made public, not yet at least, you weren’t ready for the backlash, but now the choice was taken from you in the most heinous way.

“Noona,” Jungkook calls for you gently, a sadness in his eyes at the way you were walking with your head hanging low. Jimin holds him back, understanding better than anyone how you were feeling. He used to do the same, when something went wrong, when he made a mistake, he cut himself off from everyone, it would be a mistake to approach you until you were ready, until the voices in your head either broke you or quietened down.

The steps to the front door took so much energy from you, you didn’t think you had any left. You could feel them walking behind you at a distance, and yet it didn’t feel far enough or close enough. Something inside of you was tearing its way out and you didn’t know if you wanted to be embraced through it or to suffer it alone the way you had before so many times.

“Y/n,” Namjoon didn’t get the memo, he tries to embrace you but feels you stiffen against him, letting go immediately to look at your face with worry. “Baby girl, we'll fix this, okay? We-”

You push him away and he looks at you in shock, you didn’t want to hear it right now, you were barely holding yourself together. Voices were pounding inside of your head, the same repeated phrases over and over about how all your work was ruined, it was all for nothing, all your dreams, all your efforts. You couldn’t handle anything right now, you just needed your bed and to cry yourself to sleep alone.

“Y/n talk to me,” Namjoon says sternly, brows knitted at the way you didn’t even look at him.

He blocks your path when you try to walk past him, why didn’t he understand what you needed right now? You hear him sigh, as if his patience with you was wearing thin.

“Baby girl, you always do this,” he says, holding onto your shoulders to ground you, to keep you from leaving him. “You shut yourself down, you punish yourself, you push us away and then you break.”

“You can’t do that anymore sunshine,” Hoseok says standing beside you. “We’re in a relationship, we’re in this together, your pain is our pain Y/n.”

They watch you shake your head, bowing your head down so low as they hear the telltale sniffle that turns into a violent sob. Namjoon is quick to catch you in his arms, hushing your softly, stroking your hair until you calmed. All the while guilt ate him up, this was his fault, he could see it in all of their eyes as they watched you fall apart.

—

The house was solemn and quiet, you had retreated upstairs to your room, Jimin staying beside you while you slept.

“We underestimated that bitch,” Yoongi breaks the silence with what they were all thinking. They’re all scattered around the living room, Jungkook sitting deep in thought on the headrest of the sofa, Yoongi on the seat beside him. Namjoon sat opposite them with Hoseok on the armrest, Jin pacing the room slowly while Taehyung sat on the floor with his face in his hands. The black face of the TV on the wall stared at them, taunting them with what it held inside. The face broadcasted alongside yours and theirs was one that they barely remembered, but she had the audacity to be interviewed by any news outlet desperate enough for a story. They didn’t want to turn on the TV and see her face.

“She signed an NDA,” Namjoon says, a headache forming, “we didn’t think she was going to be a problem.”

“That’s where arrogance gets us,” Jin scoffs.

“Flower worked so hard for so long,” Taehyung says quietly, mourning for you. They all knew it better than anyone.

“We’ll fix this,” Namjoon states, he wouldn’t rest until they did.

“Namjoon be real for a second,” Hoseok sighs, “we might not be able to fix it.”

“No company is going to take her without an agenda,” Jungkook pipes in stoically.

“Or without thinking she’s a corporate spy,” Jin agrees.

“We can’t control everyone and everything,” Hoseok finishes, patting the lead CEO on the shoulder sympathetically.

“And we definitely can’t ignore a problem away,” Yoongi scoffs, staring daggers into Namjoon.

“Let’s not start this now,” Jin warns, feeling Namjoon’s guilt from a mile away.

“What does he mean?” Jungkook asks, feeling confused.

“Namjoon’s been burning threats concerning us,” Yoongi continues accusatively.

“We never opened those letters,” Namjoon argues back, “we don’t know what they contained.”

“Well we know now,” Yoongi says mockingly. He hated when you were upset, the feeling made his own claws unsheath, ready to tear into anyone who was held responsible.

“We don’t know the two things are connected,” Hoseok tries to defend their lead.

“Don’t be stupid Hobi,” Yoongi seethes, “Kitten’s whole career has gone down the drain because of us, what the fuck is she going to do if she finds out?”

“You best hope she doesn’t,” Taehyung snapped, his earlier melancholy now fueled by fear.

“We can’t keep this from her,” Hoseok shakes his head, disregarding the point.

“She’ll hate us,” Jungkook states, terrified it would manifest before his eyes soon.

“She’ll be angry at us,” Jin corrects him, “but we have to tell her.”

“Not now, it’s too soon,” Namjoon says quickly, his own fear warping his judgement.

“You should’ve opened one fucking letter,” Yoongi can’t let it go, all of this could’ve been avoided if it wasn’t for Namjoon’s stupid stubbornness.

“What good is bringing that up now going to do?” Hoseok sighs again.

“We don’t know if it’s connected!” Namjoon yells exasperated. “What we do know is Shin Suran leaked the photos and the story, and she is going to fucking pay.”

—

“So you’re saying the CEOs fired you because you threatened to expose their relationship to HR?” Solar, the newscaster asks her aghast.

“Honestly, I didn’t want to expose their… relationship,” she can’t hide the disgust in her voice at the word, “but I was concerned for Y/n’s wellbeing, I thought maybe they were holding her job over her head until I found out she was only entertaining them to climb the corporate ladder.”

Both anchors were shocked, the information sending them reeling.

“I mean what self respecting young woman would sell herself like that? Y/n was never a team player, or very good at her job but somehow she was always favoured by the CEO’s. It should have been obvious really.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of information to unpack Suran,” Solar says. “Aren’t you scared of the repercussions, these are the world’s business leads you’re going up against.”

“I only want to convey the truth,” Suran lies through her teeth. “It isn’t fair that the women who have worked hard and devoted themselves to Bangtan corporations are not appreciated or given the opportunities they deserve.”

“But Miss L/n left bangtan corporations,” the other anchor Hwasa finally speaks after having watched the little snake for so long. Something didn’t sit right with her and this woman’s sickly sweet attitude, it stank of deceit and she wasn’t blind to it.

“I have it on good information that she was sent to spy on the competition,” Suran’s eyes narrow, not liking her tone of voice.

“That’s a wild allegation,” Hwasa replies, every bit the professional. “I hope you have the evidence to back it up.”

—

“Bangtan corporations are under serious investigation after allegations of corporate espionage came from their former employee…”

She smiles at the screen plating in front of her, the chaos unravelling in so many wonderful ways. The Sun was shining despite the winter air, how many interviews could she fit into one day? Many it seemed, and while the day was over there was always tomorrow to cause more havoc to your life. Now she would sit and bask in the TV light, watching all of her fire ignite.

She had only gotten cosy when the doorbell rang to her little flat, groaning as she went to the door to answer it.

“Shin Suran?”

The three piece suit should give away something serious was in the brown paper envelope in his hands but she couldn’t bring herself to show any respect to the figure. She sneered and rolled her eyes, this man might’ve looked intimidating but she was currently on a high from ruining your life, nothing was going to bring her power trip down.

“Wi HaJoon,” he continues in the absence of a greeting, handing her the envelope. “You’ve been served.”

“What?” That elicits a reaction out of her, for some reason she didn’t even contemplate there would be consequences for her actions, deluded into thinking she was untouchable.

“You’re being sued for stalking, defamation and breaking the nondisclosure agreement you signed.”

That wasn’t part of her plan, her jaw drops to the ground and she realises maybe she played her cards all wrong. In the violent web of wanting to destroy your life she didn’t realise all her defences were gone. Maybe he was right after all.

—

When you wake up, the sun begins to set and Jimin’s warmth engulfs you. The feeling is comforting but fleeting, unfortunately real life problems don’t fade just because you’re in his arms. You wanted to bury yourself in his hold, have him take everything away until you were ready to deal with it. Jungkook’s favourite grey sweatshirt swallows you whole, his smell calming your senses, you try to focus on it when your mind tries to swim through the thoughts that wanted you to drown.

The door creaks open, two figures cautiously peaking in whispering to themselves. When Tae notices you’re awake he takes a seat beside you, caressing your cheek in his palm gently, his thumb soothing your skin. His eyes are downtrodden.

Jungkook kneels on the floor next to you, taking your hand in his and covering it with hard kisses, resting his cheek where they intertwined.

You try to get up but Jimin beside you grumbles in discontent, shuffling closer mumbling something under his breath without opening his eyes. A chaste kiss to your shoulder where the fabric hangs off your skin, lets you know he’s awake but refusing to let you go. The gesture brings a small but genuine smile to your face, one that turns into confusion as the commotion downstairs gets louder.

The younger two give each other knowing glances, one you don’t miss.

“What’s going on?” You ask, voice still hoarse from crying.

The hesitation in both of them fills you with dread. Did something else happen?

“They’re just trying to sort things out bunny,” Jungkook tries to reassure you, “it’s nothing to worry about.”

Despite Taehyung not wanting you to find out, something sickened him at the idea of keeping secrets from you. He knew how the truth always found its way out, and he knew if you didn’t hear it from them, it would have worse repercussions.

“Tae?” you could see a storm in his eyes, a battle between the loyalty to the others and his love for you.

“The hyungs…” he hesitates, Jimin now fully awake and sitting up at his deep uncertain tone.

Jungkook looks at him imploring him not to say it yet, it was going to be too much to deal with so soon after this morning. You grab Jimin’s arm, pulling yourself up closer to Taehyung who now avoided your gaze.

“Guys what’s going on?”

“I’ve been here with you,” Jimin mumbles half asleep, his hair a soft mess on his head.

“Kookie?” you turn to the youngest who bites his lips nervously, doe eyes begging you not to ask him.

“You’re worrying me,” your nerves were shot, the trauma from this morning making you beyond paranoid. What could be worse than this morning, what weren’t they telling you.

“Jimin, Jungkook and I didn’t know,” Taehyung starts slowly, not wanting to put his hyung’s under the bus but he wasn’t going to let them shoulder the blame when they were innocent. Plus when this was over he had a feeling you would ostracise the older four for a while, he couldn’t handle being a part of that.

“Didn’t know what?” you ask tentatively, urging him to continue.

“I still don’t know,” Jimin grumbles, getting annoyed with the suspense.

“Namjoon Hyung has been getting letters,” Jungkook says when Taehyung pauses for too long. He sighs, cursing the hyung’s for keeping this from you when he knew the betrayal would crush you.

“What letters?”

Something ticks in Jimin’s brain, his sleep filled eyes going wide with realisation. The other day in the office, when the hyung’s went solemn, it was to do with that?

“We think…” Taehyung tries not to stumble over his words, “they were threats, about you or us, but we don’t know because…”

Threats? You’re sent reeling, did Namjoon know this was coming? And he did nothing to warn you, or confide in you?

“Because what?” you breathe, your voice heavy, eyes watering as your thoughts ran away from you. Jimin places an arm around your shoulders, trying to soothe you.

“He burned the letters before he opened them,” Jungkook finishes, feeling a deep rooted shame for his favourite hyung, and for selling him out.

“Angel…”

Jimin calls after you as you throw the covers off of you, storming downstairs to confront the men hiding things from you.

“Sunshine-”

“You’ve been getting threats and you didn’t tell me?”

They startle at your accusation, as right as it was, the four of them confounded until the younger three stumble in behind you. All four hyungs glance at them disgruntled and disappointed, this was not the way to handle things, the thought was hypocritical but justified in their minds.

“You didn’t tell me?” Your teary eyes pierce Yoongi with so much sadness, of all of them you never expected him to keep it from you, and for some reason it stung the worst.

“Kitten,” he tries reaching out to you, a vulnerable edge to his voice. He would let you scratch and claw at him until you were satisfied, anything to keep you from looking at him like that again.

“Babygirl it’s my fault,” Namjoon sighs, taking the edge of his hyung and shouldering all the blame. “I told them not to.”

You turn back to him with anger in your eyes.

“Namjoon you’re the lead at work but that doesn’t make you the lead in this relationship,” you snap. “You had no right to keep this from me!”

“I know,” he says, his voice small.

“How long have you been getting these letters?” You ask and he hangs his head in shame.

“Months…” he replies, “since you left the company.”

You stare at him appalled and it wounds him.

“You have the gall to tell me how to behave in this relationship Kim Namjoon,” Your voice is strained through the onslaught of angry tears. “And you keep this from me?”

“I didn’t know what the letters said,” he says as an excuse, and he knows it’s a feeble one.

You shake your head in disbelief.

“I thought you of all people would get it Joonie,” the way your voice breaks cuts through him with shame. “You built everything from the ground up, I admired you long before I loved you. So how the hell could you play with my future like this?”

“Baby girl that was never my intention,” he begs you to understand him now, that he didn’t behave nonchalant with a potential threat, he thought he was doing what was best.

“It doesn’t matter what your intention was! There was a clear right and wrong, and you know it.”

He bows his head again, you were right, he disrespected you when he didn’t discuss the letters with you, you should’ve made the decision together as to what to do with them. But in his heart he thought he was protecting you, protecting your peace and happiness, but all of that was a bubble set to burst.

“We don’t know that it’s connected beautiful,” Jin steps in between you, speaking as softly as he can knowing you were full of rage and sorrow, but he watched Namjoon take the blow and needed to shield him a little.

“We don’t know that it’s not,” you argued back. “We have no way of knowing, because instead of talking to me about something unpleasant, you guys decided to bury it.”

“Sunshine, I get that you’re upset-” Hoseok tries but the look of incredulous shock shuts him up.

“Upset?” you repeat, the strain in your voice carrying tears. “Everything I worked for, all my dreams, are gone.”

It was a struggle to get out every word, having to take a breath between each one, but you were determined to.

“No company is going to employ me, even if they do I’ll be subjugated to whispers and isolation and we know how that worked out last time.”

You sniffle, wiping your nose and tears with your sleeve. You wanted to appear strong but you were breaking down, didn’t they understand what they had done? Didn’t they care? Or were they so comfortable in their gold seats so far above you they forgot about their struggles on the way there?

“I didn’t join your company to seduce you, I wanted to work hard and make something of myself, maybe start my own company one day, but all of that is gone.”

“Kitten,” Yoongi dares himself to try again, to console you even if you pushed him away. He walks over to you, remembering all the times you seeked him out for comfort. It used to confound the others, how Mr Stoic Stone was the one that you reached for, and even though it was unusual for him to step into those shoes, with you it came so naturally. He wanted to be the one you searched for when you needed soothing, he never wanted to lose that connection he built with you, ever. He knew it was a privilege, one he never took for granted.

He hates the way you look at him now, it breaks his heart, those watering eyes showing how truly hurt you were while you tried to control the trembling of your bottom lip, tried to look strong in front of him.

“Whatever you think is gone, we can rebuild,” he takes your face in his hands, kissing the top of your head softly before looking into your eyes. “I am so sorry for not telling you, but I promise you whatever dreams you had will come true. It's just going to suck for a while and that’s our fault.”

“We know better than anyone how hard you work sunshine,” Hoseok smiles at you sadly, regretting not telling you.

“If you want a company babygirl, we’ll get you a company,” Namjoon’s own voice thick with remorse. “Whatever you want.”

“There’s enough space in the office for another desk,” Jimin tries to lighten the mood with a teasing lilt to his voice, but he’s not joking at all. “No one would dare to whisper about our angel CEO.”

You shake your head, removing Yoongi’s hold on you. They didn’t get it. You’ve worked for everything you had, it was how you had always been. You didn’t want to be handed a title you didn’t earn, or have your powerful boyfriends buy positions for you.

“Why would that be such a bad idea, beautiful?” Jin asks softly. “You’re more than capable.”

“I don’t need anyone thinking I slept my way to the top,” you scoff.

“Who cares what other people think, Kitten?” Yoongi sighs. “No one can deny you deserve a CEO position.”

You shake your head again, breathes of humourless laughter escaping your lips. They really didn’t get it. It was so easy to say that when you were untouchable to people’s words.

“You guys made the decision by yourselves to keep this from me,” you state, not looking at them but to the ground. “My career has nothing to do with you, whatever happens next is my choice.”

“Kitten-”

“You don’t have the right Yoongi,” you try to keep the anger out of your voice. “None of you do right now. I need to figure this out alone.”

“Are you breaking up with us?” Jungkook asks in a panic, not moving from the doorway, he would block your exit, he would fall to his knees and beg you to stay.

“No,” you reassure him with a syllable. “I love you, I always will, I’m just angry right now.”

“And you have every right to be,” Namjoon agrees solemnly.

“I just have one last thing on my mind,” you frown, an obvious question was left unanswered.

You face Namjoon, knowing he would hold the answer.

“You destroyed the letters before opening them,” it’s not a question but it sounds like one.

He nods, wondering where you were going with this.

“So how did you know they were threats?”

He hesitates, trying to build up the courage to tell you how he knew exactly who they were from.

“The return address,” Jin answers for him. “It was from the penitentiary.”

The realisation hits you, and for some reason it makes the whole situation so much worse. The accusation in your eyes returns as you gaze at Namjoon. He knew exactly what he was dealing with when he got rid of those letters, and looking at you now he knew he would have to beg for your forgiveness.

—

Bonus scene flashback:

Dear Kim Namjoon,

You haven’t responded to the last 6 letters I have sent, so either you’re not taking me seriously, or you haven’t read a single one. Both choices are not in anyone’s best interest, I don’t think you realise the situation you’ve put me in, I have nothing to lose.

The deadline is approaching for you to transfer the funds and secure my release. I am not spending years in jail because of your jealousy. Enclosed are copies of the images I will release to the media, I bet you’re wondering how I was able to get these when you locked me away.

It seems I’m not the only one you thought you could cross and toss away. For your sake, I hope you make the right choice.

I look forward to hearing from you,

Alexander Pettyfer

“They haven’t responded to a single one of your stupid letters, what makes you think they will now?” Suran scoffs at the news that he sent another.

“Just be patient,” he replies, the usually clean cut male looking rugged and rough. “We need something out of this other than just ruining their lives.”

“Look, the images I got are proof enough about what that whore is doing, I say we release them.”

“Not yet!” The rise in his voice gets the guards attention, and he takes a deep breath to calm down. Stupid woman didn’t know when to listen, it was unfortunate that he had to use her, although he should count his blessings the day she came and visited for the first time with an idea to take the CEOs down.

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