#front of my computer and watch something and do nothing else and then go to bed too late | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

incognit0slut · 7 months

Text

A SPECIAL SHOW

Part 3 of kinktober | main masterlist

virgin!spencer x fem!reader; Lingerie, Exhibitionist/voyeur, overstimulation, squirting

No one would’ve guessed you liked to touch yourself in front of billions of people online, except for your roommate, who you thought would be a great addition to your next late-night session.

Words: 6,213

a/n: my kinktober is running late. Oopsss

THERE WAS SOMETHING EXHILARATING ABOUT BEING WATCHED. You reveled in the sensation of being the center of attention. You weren't sure how it started, nor when it started, all you knew was that every Friday night you were always seated—or sometimes laid—in front of your computer. Webcam on, chatroom on, and most importantly, your alter ego was on.

Princess_Pink is online.

It wasn't the most creative name, but it was your initial thought when you made your account. You had always taken a certain liking for the color pink. As for princess... well, there was nothing else to it, you just liked being called that.

Princess.no1.fan: i've been waiting for you!! Adam_4432: hey princess Keaton-bigdick: ready to jerk off to you baby Hardcock69: turn on your cam!

If you told your younger self that you'd be touching yourself in front of horny strangers online, you would've scoffed in disgust. Your past innocent self would definitely look down on your choices, which honestly, something you once had questioned too at one point. But the amount of money increasing in your bank account always stops you from doubting yourself.

It was partly the reason why you were still doing this. Your nine-to-five job wasn't going to cut out the expenses you needed, providing yourself in other ways was the only option. The reason was, yes, you needed the money, that was true. But deep down you were aware of how much you actually enjoyed doing this. If you once thought that these men watching you were disgusting, horny people, then maybe you were just as disgusting as they were.

And somehow you were okay with that.

Horny_BBC: turn your fucking cam on you slut JadenCums: don't talk to her like that JadenCums: she's not going to give us anything if we don't behave Princess.no1.fan: princess pretty please show us your sexy body

You turned your camera on. There it was, your reflection on the screen. Your baby pink lingerie, a silky second skin, clung to every curve, accentuating the elegant contours of your body with its deep neckline plunging gracefully. Your hair cascaded in loose waves, catching the soft lights in your bedroom, and illuminating your smooth skin. A coy, knowing smile played on your lips, revealing a self-assured confidence that was impossible to ignore.

"Hello, boys," you greeted, your voice deep and sultry. "Did you miss me?"

A chorus of replies filled the chatroom and you smiled. You loved the attention they gave you. It was something you never gained in your normal, mundane daily life, and you actually didn't mind it. You liked being the invisible quiet girl sitting at her own desk, minding her own business. But now you were exactly the opposite of that girl and you thrived on the desires that lingered in those who watched you.

But there was still some privacy that you needed to keep because honestly, you didn't want your coworker to know this secret life of yours. You used to wear a fancy mask that looked like it came out from a masquerade ball, but with how technology has developed, you now opted to use a filter that animated your features. It was perfect.

"I had a very rough week," you continued, playing with your hair. "But now that everyone is here..." You leaned forward, showing the soft curves of your cleavage. "...I feel so much better."

Adam_4432: fucking hot Keaton-bigdick: love the dress Keaton-bigdick: love it better on the floor

You giggled. "Patience, boys. You know how this goes. We play a little game along the way." You ran a hand through your hair. "So what game do you think we should play?"

Your eyes traveled along the comments. "Twister? How are we supposed to play that? Oh—Strip poker? That does sound good—wait! Yes! We should do a classic." A smile curled on your lips. "Truth or dare."

Fatcock_777: ok truth or dare princess?

You rolled your eyes. "Truth, duh. We're starting this slow."

You scanned through the comments and picked a question that seemed easy for you to answer.

Pussylicker: have you ever masturbated in public

"I have masturbated in public," you responded, biting your bottom lip teasingly as you looked straight into the camera. "I once touched myself at work because... well, I was desperate. Locked myself inside the bathroom and fucked myself with my fingers, it was so hard keeping quiet."

You then laughed at yourself. "Alright, next question. I'm still choosing truth, by the way."

JadenCums: will you ever bring a guest here? JadenCums: would love to see you getting fucked

This time you wiped your tongue along your lip. The mere thought of having someone else please you who was not yourself, right in front of these strangers online, aroused you in a way you never thought possible. You clenched your thighs together as you imagined yourself in front of the camera while somebody else was here to touch you, to tease you—to fuck you.

"Bringing somebody else here? Sounds amazing, to be honest," you answered. "But you see, I don't think I know anyone willing to do what I do—"

Bang! Clink. Clink.

You stopped yourself and frowned. A sudden sound vibrated through your room, a jarring clash of clanging and clattering emanated from what seemed to be the kitchen. Your eyes darted toward the noise, curiosity, and concern merging on your face as you attempted to discern its source.

Another clatter followed through, louder than before.

"Wait a minute, boys," you mindlessly said to your audience, your eyes still narrowing on your bedroom door. "I'll be right back."

You quickly turned off your camera and muted your microphone, ignoring the protests thrown in the chat, and rose from your bed. With measured steps, you left the sanctity of your room and ventured into the adjacent kitchen. Your steps halted right at the moment you found your roommate stooping down to retrieve a fallen pan. The metallic clang resonated briefly, then subsided, replaced by the soft rustling of clothes and the muted glow of ambient lighting.

"Spencer?" You called out softly, your voice carrying a note of concern.

He straightened up, holding the pan in his hand. His response was apologetic, a musing note in his voice, "Sorry if I woke you. I couldn't sleep, and I thought drinking something warm could help me relax."

Your eyes wandered to the carton of milk that sat on the counter. "So you decided to make warm milk?"

"Apparently we ran out of tea..."

His voice trailed off as he looked up from the fallen pan, and as he met your gaze, time seemed to slow. His apology hung in the air, a mere whisper, as his eyes found your figure in the soft glow of the kitchen lights. The lingerie you wore, delicate and pretty, cast your curves in a subtle, alluring way.

There was one word to describe your roommate. Cute. He was really cute. If he wasn't so oblivious to your little, innocent crush, you'd already be worshiping the ground he walked on. Maybe you should've told him how you found his habit of dumping facts endearing, but then again, you felt as if he had been avoiding you ever since he found out about your late-night rendezvous with your computer.

Keeping it a secret from your friends, family, and colleagues was easy, you didn't see them often. But keeping it a secret from Spencer, your roommate who you see every day, who bluntly asked why you were whining every Friday night at the exact same time, was hard.

Surprisingly, you thought you'd be appalled by telling him the truth, but something about him made you spill out what you had been doing behind your bedroom door. He seemed like the type of person who never judged, and he obviously didn't when you told him you were doing it for the money. But even though he accepted your secret without pressing any further, you realized, he had been avoiding you ever since.

For a heartbeat, silence enveloped the room, broken only by the distant hum of the refrigerator. Then he finally tore his gaze away, clearing his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "It's Friday, huh?"

You stepped closer, your bare feet making a soft padding sound on the kitchen floor. "Yeah."

"Well, uh, you can go back to what you were doing. Don't mind me."

You couldn't help but study him with a sense of quiet fascination. There was something utterly captivating about the way he appeared in this unguarded moment, and you couldn't resist your curiosity as you observed his relaxed, almost nonchalant demeanor.

Your eyes trailed over him. The lower half of his body was swathed in loose-fitting pajama pants, their fabric patterned with a subdued design. The shirt he wore was equally unpretentious, and its well-worn, soft texture cradled his upper body loosely. His hair seized your attention next. It was disheveled and slightly tousled, its tips barely touching his shoulders.

Yet, it was his hands that captivated you the most. His hands were notably broad, his fingers long and deft. The veins that traced along the back of his hands were what had you staring further, and as you caught the way they flexed whenever he moved between the narrowed space, you wondered what it would feel like to have them on you.

And now the question from earlier kept on repeating in your head. Will you ever bring a guest here? If you had to choose someone else to please you, your answer would definitely be him.

"Hey, Spence?" He looked at you, and under the intense scrutiny of his gaze, your nerves tightened their grip on you. You quickly shook your head. "Never mind."

"No—wait. What is it?"

"It's nothing, just forget it."

He took a step forward, closing the gap between you. "Tell me what you were about to say."

It was now or never, at least, that was what you kept convincing yourself. You then braced for the question that had been lingering on the tip of your tongue. "How do you feel about joining me?"

You noticed the frown forming on his face. "Joining you?"

"Yes, for my stream." The baffled look he gave you made you explain yourself further. "You don't have to be naked! And if you must know, I use this cute filter to hide my face in a way, but if you don't like that, you can be completely anonymous. I'll make sure your face is out of the frame."

You wanted to kick yourself. The silence that came after your proposition was gnawing at you, almost as if it was mocking your brassness. This was Spencer Reid, the hot-shot FBI agent you lived with who had been avoiding you for the exact reason, and you were now inviting him to join you? What on earth were you thinking?

"See? This is stupid. Forget I said anything—"

"What do I have to do? If... if I don't have to be naked."

You blinked, caught by surprise for a moment, and then your lips curved into a coy smile. He was interested.

"You can play with me."

You took a step forward.

"Touch me."

You took satisfaction in the way his eyes lowered down your body.

"Please me." Your eyes bore into him, liking the way they turned a shade darker as he kept staring at your cleavage. "Who knows? Maybe you'll be able to sleep after this."

His eyes swept along the expansion of your neck before they met your gaze. "Just... touch you? That's it?"

"That's it," you confirmed. You wanted to ease the tension, so you joked with a playful grin, "I'll split the money with you from this stream."

Spencer softly chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "No, keep it. People pay to watch you, not me."

"So is that a yes?"

He exhaled a deep breath. "...yeah?"

It was really happening. Before he could regret his decision, you quickly reached for his hand and guided him to your room. He followed you quietly, and when you pulled him in, his eyes swept across your personal space, taking in the predominant color palette of pink that seemed to envelop the space with a cozy, feminine charm.

The heart of your room was undoubtedly your computer setup, strategically placed directly in front of your bed. There was a small camera perched on top of the screen and a professional mic placed to the side, and to be completely honest, the sight of everything was starting to intimidate him.

"I need to tell you something," he softly began. "This is my first time doing this."

You gently squeezed his hand. "I'd be surprised if you've ever done this before. You're not even on social media."

"No, I mean—" He turned you around to face him. "I've never touched someone... intimately."

"Really?" Your eyes shot up as you noticed the way he emphasized the word. "Wait, Spencer... are you a virgin?"

There was a pause as he searched your eyes hesitantly. "Does it make me weird if I told you I am?"

Somehow that didn't surprise you, since you never actually saw him taking an interest in relationships, so your response was swift. "No. You're always weird regardless," you quipped, dissipating the tension with a teasing grin. "I'm kidding."

He smiled, although his question still lingered in the air, and he shifted the focus back to you again. "Do you still want me here?"

"I should be asking you that question, silly. Are you fine with all this?"

To your surprise, his response was affirmative. "Surprisingly, yes, I am."

"Then there's nothing to worry about."

He still looked nervous though, and without putting much thought into it, you closed the distance and stood on your tiptoes. Your hands softly held his jaw, and the moment you pressed your lips onto his, a sound of satisfaction erupted from his chest.

You sighed in contentment as you felt his hands sliding around your waist, holding you closer as you moved your lips against his. The kiss was slow and lazy, yet the sensation of it traveled along your body, leaving you almost breathless as you felt his tongue teasing your entrance. A moan slipped out of you as you buried your hands in his hair, tugging onto the strands desperately as your tongues collided with one another in a delicate trance.

Your lips on his were hot, soft, settling, and wet, pulling onto each other for more and when you finally stopped, his eyes were closed, heavily exhaling, his hair ruffled, and he looked like the prettiest mess ever.

"W- What was that for?" He whispered, still in his dazed state.

"Setting the mood." You slowly pulled away and walked over to your bed, sitting at the edge of it, positioning yourself back in front of your computer. "For someone who has never had sex, you sure know how to kiss."

He collected himself and looked at you as if you had offended him. "I've kissed other people before."

"I can tell." You then narrowed your eyes at him. "Alright, you ready?"

"I..." He took a tentative step forward. "I think so."

With practiced efficiency, you started up the stream again. The moment you turned on your microphone and camera, almost immediately, comments began flooding in. The chat scrolled rapidly. You let a mischievous smile tug at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicked to the monitor.

"Hey, everyone, sorry for leaving you so suddenly. But I guess this is your lucky day... because I have someone joining me tonight!" A chorus of excited responses flooded the chatroom and you giggled at the enthusiasm they were giving you. "Oh my, didn't know you guys really wanted a guest over here."

Pussylicker: fuck yeah Princess.no1.fan: don't know if I should be excited or jealous Adam_4432: gonna fuck my cock watching you Fatcock_777 sent a $100 gift

Easy money, you thought to yourself, and by the way Spencer's eyes went wide, he also caught the amount of money sent to you when you were barely doing anything. "They give you that much for saying that?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his innocence. "Spe—" You stopped as his name almost slipped out your mouth. You cleared your throat and quickly corrected yourself. "Babe, they can hear you."

The pale complexion of his skin accentuated the subtle blush that tinged his cheeks, a result of either your affectionate tone or his embarrassment over his unfamiliarity with the situation. "Oh." He stared at your computer screen with uncertainty, his gaze filled with hesitation. "Right."

You urged him to come closer with your hand. "Come here, pretty boy."

He cast a fleeting glance in your direction, prompting an eye-roll as you observed his clumsy approach towards you. You eyed the camera and addressed your audience, "He's a little shy, please be nice to him."

As soon as he entered the camera frame, the comments section buzzed with curiosity. Many viewers wondered about the identity of this mysterious man, who happened to appear just as someone questioned a potential guest on the stream. Most of the other comments were positive, stating how excited they were, but a few of them disturbed you when they mentioned Spencer's physical appearance and how 'this fucking twig' didn't deserve to touch you.

You quickly guided your mouse to block them.

"I told you to be nice," you emphasized, your voice carrying a subtle edge. "I don't tolerate any form of harassment."

Spencer, seemingly oblivious, frowned at you. "What did you do?"

"Kicking disrespectful people out," you answered for him. Then, directing your attention towards him, you rose from your bed and gestured to the empty space. "Sit here."

He followed your instructions, settling onto the soft mattress as you adjusted your camera at a lower angle, making sure his face remained hidden from view. When you were satisfied, you instructed him to scoot back, which he happily obliged, because how couldn't he? He was captivated by what was happening.

Spencer never thought he would have his lower half on display—albeit still fully clothed—in front of thousands of people online. Yet here he was, sitting right in front of a camera, watching you as you slipped your knee between his thighs, urging him to part his legs. Nervous energy pulsed through him as he found himself in such close proximity to you, especially when you started to kneel right between him, clutching his shoulders as you steadied yourself.

"Someone dared me to show my cute panties," you mused, and even when you were addressing yourself to the stream, your eyes were locked with his. "Help me show them, babe."

His heart quickened as he looked up at you. "W-what do I do?"

You smiled at him and leaned down, pressing your lips against the shell of his ear, making sure he was the only one to hear you as you whispered, "Play with my ass, Spencer."

His breathing became shallow and erratic. He slowly reached out and put his wide hands on your hips before sliding them along your ass cheeks. He gently kneaded them, squeezing them with the utmost delicacy as if he was holding himself back.

Spencer had always been a gentle person, it was a fundamental aspect of his character, something he had known from the depths of his being. You liked that about him, it differentiated him from all the men you had ever been with. But right now you needed him to touch you with the same urgency you craved. You needed him to let go.

"You can do better than that, pretty boy," you pressed on, brushing your lips along his jawline. "Show the audience what they want."

Something in him switched at that moment. Maybe it was the way you were kissing down his neck. Or maybe it was the way you were pressed against him. Whatever it was, he suddenly felt less inclined to be gentle and, instead, he gripped onto your cheeks with more power. He squeezed them, holding your flesh with so much vigor that you had to hold onto him, burying your face in his neck.

He glanced past your shoulder and caught your reflection. He couldn't believe those were his hands on the screen; touching you, teasing you, pleasing you. You were definitely pleased with the way you kept on squirming against him. It mesmerized him how much you were responding to his simple touch, and now when he knew he could make you sigh in pleasure, he wondered how much more you could react the more he touched you.

Spencer pressed his hands at the back of your thighs before trailing them up your legs. He paused for a moment, hearing the way your breath quickened with anticipation, and smiled to himself when you let out a whimper as he squeezed your flesh again. The hem of your lingerie rode up your hips every time he moved, and your laced panties, with their fabric barely covering your already wet sex, were on display for the audience to see.

Hardcock69 sent you a $100 gift

He cocked an eyebrow, fascinated by how showing a little skin could earn you money. Curiosity took over him, and he let his fingers trail between your flesh before spreading them apart, showing off your wet patch to the camera. You arched your back, pressing your lips into his neck again as your arousal shot through your veins before it pooled right in your center.

Princess.no1.fan sent you a $100 gift

Interesting, Spencer thought, and slipped his fingers between the soft material of your panties before sliding it to the side, exposing your wet skin. His eyes shot up when someone gifted you another hundred dollars, and without much thinking, he brushed the pad of his fingers along your folds, loving the way you whined out a desperate moan right into his ear.

"You're doing great, baby," you told him breathlessly. Hearing your encouragement only made him want to please you even more. He let his middle finger glide along your dripping pussy, mesmerized at how wet you were, and braved himself as he slowly pushed his finger inside you.

He couldn't stop the sound of pleasure erupting from his chest when you squeezed around him. You were so wet, so warm, so incredibly tight. He thrust his finger in and out of you and you mewled, arching your back, grinding your hips toward his touch. And just as you were about to relish the sensation, he abruptly pulled his finger out of you and held you by the hips, gently pushing you off of him.

"Somebody dared you to turn around," he said, licking his lips as his eyes trailed along the front of your body, stopping right at your cleavage.

You smiled, amused that he was actually reading along the comments while touching you. Without saying a word, you got off the bed, your back still facing the camera. Your hands gently slid up your lingerie and you tugged on your panties down your legs, not forgetting to arch your back while doing so, making sure the camera captured the soft curves of your ass.

Spencer watched you intently. He watched the way your body swayed from each movement, appraising the swell of your breasts and the way your nipples pressed against the thin material of your lingerie, slightly teasing him behind the see-through lace. His eyes skimmed along your neck, stopping at your face, taking in the way you were looking at him with half-lidded eyes.

You were so beautiful. His fingers moved almost of their own accord, reaching out as if guided by some unseen force, wanting to touch you further. He rested a hand on your hip while his other hand slipped behind your neck, pulling you closer as he slightly reached out, meeting you halfway in a soft, enchanting kiss.

You melted right into him. His unexpected kiss threw you off as you weren't prepared for how passionate he was exploring your mouth; nipping your bottom lip, softly sucking the flesh as he pushed his tongue into you. He was kissing you as if he couldn't get enough of you, as if the first time he tasted you ignited the passion within him, forcing yourself to surrender to his touch.

As much as you wanted it to last, you pulled away, pressing your forehead against his, completely breathless as if the sheer magnitude of his kiss had stolen the very air from your lungs. "We should... we should keep the show going."

Your words reminded him that you were still being watched. "...Right."

Finally pulling away from him, you turned around and faced your monitor, reading along the comments on the screen. Although the camera didn't capture your kiss, the intimate atmosphere was unmistakable, and many of your followers began speculating about the identity of this mysterious man. They raised questions, even going so far as to wonder if he was your boyfriend.

How you wished that was true.

You shook your head and focused on the other comments, picking up the ones where they were throwing you some dares. One of them insisted for you to spread your legs in front of the camera which was honestly something you plan to do anyway.

So you sat between his legs, pressing your backside against his crotch, and stifled a moan when you felt his cock pressing into you. You could tell how hard he was, how aroused he seemed just by touching you. It was undeniably satisfying to be the one who had evoked such a response from him.

You leaned on his chest, placing your head right in the crook of his neck, and slowly spread your legs apart, finally exposing your flesh. Spencer could feel his slacks tightening, feeling himself going hard at the sight of you. The soft, ambient light in the room played a delicate dance upon your wet skin, accentuating its flawless smoothness. He also realized he wasn't the only one mesmerized by you, the chatroom also seemed to be buzzing with excitement.

Horny_BBC: sweet fucking pussy Horny_BBC: dripping wet JadenCums: holy shit I need to fuck you Pussylicker sent a $100 gift Prince_Casper: I dare you to finger her tight little pussy pretty boy

"I think they dared you to do something, baby," you mentioned, arching your back and spreading your legs wider. But Spencer's attention was somewhere else, most precisely, on your chest. Your nipples were begging for attention and he couldn't help but reach out his hands over the swell of your breasts. He gave them both a gentle, appreciative squeeze, admiring the way they looked in his hands.

"Babe," you whispered, your voice almost coming out as a whimper. "T- That's not what they want."

"But it's what I want," he said absentmindedly, too focused on watching the way his large hands covered your breasts. "They can wait a little longer."

His hands then moved to tug down the straps of your lingerie, your breasts spilling out from the sheer lace material and he groaned at the sight. "You're beautiful," he praised you, earning a soft blush along your cheeks. He palmed them again, watching the fleshy, supple skin contort around his touch. "No wonder everyone loves seeing your body."

Your breath quickened as you felt the sensations intensify, pleasure coursing through your body. "Are you sure you've never touched anyone before?"

He hummed a reply as he pinched your nipples between the calloused pads of his fingers, tugging them from your body as he cherished the gasp that left your lips. Letting go as he watched your breast bounce at the motion before repeating the action, wanting to pull more of those noises from your pretty lips. His eyes glanced over to the screen and smiled in satisfaction when your subscribers gifted you again.

"See? They like these as much as I do," he mentioned, giving your breasts a final squeeze before down your stomach, across the dip of your navel, up and down the thickness of your thighs until he stopped between your legs. Fingers lathered down your slit, feathering at your folds and experimentally teasing around your entrance. He watched himself as he pressed onto your pussy lips, spreading them apart for your viewers to see.

This position wasn't unfamiliar to you, you had spread your legs for the camera countless times, but to have another person touching you overwhelmed you in a way you didn't know possible. And when you thought you couldn't take more of the pleasure building up in your body, he proved you wrong by pressing a finger right onto your clit, making circular motions right on top of it.

You couldn't help but let out a moan louder than you intended to. "Babe..."

You gave into the sensation, watching as his fingers continued their exploration. You could already feel him harden with each steady, rhythmic beat of his heart while his fingers explored you, collecting the slick of your arousal before spreading it along your folds.

Hardcock69: fuck her with your fingers Hardcock69: ruin that sweet little pussy

Spencer didn't have to be asked twice, sliding his middle finger into you. You let out a gasp. "Fuck, baby..." Your eyes were transfixed on the screen as you watched the way his hand flexed, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you before adding another one, stretching your inner walls.

You whimpered as he began to thrust into you and your body jerked involuntarily. Your room was quickly filled with the lewd sound of his fingers plunging in and out of you as he kept a steady pace, fingers rutting into your tight hole, your slick inner walls clenching around him with each thrust. He watched your reflection on screen with curious eyes, catching the way your breath hitched and the way your lips fell split.

His fingers were long and thick, dragging along your walls. The moment of gentleness was suddenly gone when he picked up the pace. The speed turned into a ferocious one as if he was trying to reach deep inside of you and force something out. A reaction. He wanted to force another reaction out of you, more than you were giving to him now.

"That's it—fuck." You gasped, feeling that familiar coil in your stomach. "Don't stop. Don't fucking stop."

He curled his fingers inside of you, making your body jolt. He pressed the palm of his hand on your clit, and with every thrust, his skin rubbed against it. Your hips jerked against him again as a tiny moan escaped your lips, your head slumping against his shoulder.

"Faster," you managed to squeak. "I-I'm close."

Who was he to disobey your wishes? He obliged to your needs and pumped his fingers in a mind-numbing speed. The intensity made it hard for you to think, your body trembling as you felt the coil inside you tighten desperately.

A guttural whine left your lips as he began to pump his digits in and out of your sloppy pussy, focusing on the same spot inside of you with each flick of his wrist. Your mouth parted in a squeal as your toes curled, the soles of your feet digging into your mattress as he continued to thrust his fingers inside you, helping you to ride out your release.

Maybe it was the inexperience of sex, the way he had never seen a woman come undone right before him, that piqued his curiosity. It was his first time, and he found himself irresistibly drawn to the unknown, his eagerness to explore and understand the human body, especially your body. Every sensation, every moment, was tinged with the exhilaration of discovery, which led him to continue rocking his fingers into you, not slowing down even when you were a whining mess.

"Baby..." you whimpered. "W-What are you doing?"

Adam_4432: fuck her again Pussylicker: keep going pretty boy Pussylicker: don't stop even if she begs you to Pussylicker sent you a $200 gift

A new surge of pleasure engulfed you, a sensation unlike before. It coursed through your veins like a sweet, intoxicating elixir, so utterly consuming. Your hands clutched at the bedsheets, kneading them between your fingers as you felt this unusual sensation creep up on your lower half. It became so overwhelming your body was trying to ignore it, your eyes clenching shut as his fingers continued to pump into you.

"Oh, shit," You gasped. "I-I can't—"

Spencer's eyes flickered between the comments telling him not to stop and the way your body trembled in his arms. His free arm slid around your waist, pulling him into his chest as he gently whispered, "Do you want me to stop?"

Your lack of an answer was enough for him to keep going, digging his fingers deeper inside you, pressing onto that same spot repeatedly. He felt you shaking again, noticing the way your mouth fell apart as you gasped for air.

"I got you," he said softly, his eyes trailing down your body and his fingers between your legs. "Breathe," he instructed, slightly pausing when you clenched around him.

"N-No, don't stop," you begged him. "I can take it."

He curled his fingers again and you arched your back, hips bucking against his hand. "Oh god," you cried out, your voice sounding a little raw. "That's it—fuck, I'm gonna cum again."

He started to speed up, a sound of pleasure leaving his lips when your pussy started to squelch. It didn't take long for you to reach your second high as he doubled his movement, thrusting into you faster. You were shaking uncontrollably, and as you were about to calm your breathing from the overwhelming pleasure, another sensation burned between your legs.

You tipped your head back as it traveled along your body, clamping your thighs together only for him to push them apart again with his other hand. Every touch from him sent shockwaves of ecstasy, making your limbs quiver and your breath hitch. The sensation was so consuming that it turned your thoughts into a mushy, incoherent whirlwind, rendering your mind of rational thoughts.

"F-fuck, fuck, fuck," you cried out. The intensity of it overwhelmed you to the point your tears began to flow. "R-right there—"

JadenCums: HOLY FUCK Prince_Casper: SHE'S GONNA SQUIRT Prince_Casper: FUCK HER FASTER!!!!! Pussylicker sent you a $100 gift Adam_4432 sent you a $200 gift

Your body trembled uncontrollably, each shiver echoing the overpowering sensations that consumed you, and you couldn't hold it anymore. A harsh whine was torn from your lips as your release rippled through you. You gasped as your cunt began to convulse, a clear stream of liquid gushing from between your thighs as you cried out, "Spe—"

Spencer grunted as he clamped your mouth with his free hand, stopping you from calling out his name. He quickly pulled his hand and rubbed your clit furiously as he tried to coax more of the liquid from your convulsing body. Your body quivered as his meticulous touch kept you teetering on your high, the pleasure flowing through you as you continued to come undone.

He watched as your chest rose up and down, your perky breasts moving every time you tried to calm your breathing. Your body was still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you didn't want your viewers to see you in your most vulnerable state, at least not now when you were still trying to comprehend what just happened. So you sat up and quickly turned off your stream before you glanced at your drenched sheets and the mess you splattered across your desk.

“I- I’ve never—” You were shocked, the sensation completely new to you. "That... that never happened to me before."

You could hear the triumph in his voice as he replied, "Really?"

You were torn between amusement at his gloating and embarrassment at your own overwhelming experience. You turned your head to see him sitting there, grinning sheepishly at you. Your eyes flickered between his legs, noticing the outline of his cock pressing against his pants, and even by the shadow of it, you could tell his size was bigger than you anticipated.

It didn't take long for you to make a move, really, because he was staring at you with doe eyes filled with lust and you couldn't stop yourself from climbing onto his lap, earning a moan from his lips as you settled right on top of his cock. Your wetness covered him and it took a lot of self-control for him not to pounce at you right at this moment.

"Hey, Spence?" Your voice was sweet, the tone of it reminded him of the way you had asked him to join you when you both stood in the kitchen. His ears perked up as he held you by your waist.

"Yeah?"

You smiled down at him.

"What do you think about losing your virginity?"

He had never agreed to anything so fast in his life.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut

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exhaslo · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 31- Ghost face!Miguel x Shy!Reader

*Requested by the many fans of tumblr. Happy Halloween!*

Everyone had warned you about moving to Nueva York. The amount of dangerous people in that city were overwhelming. You were going to be eaten alive as your friends and family warned. You thought of yourself better and wanted to prove to them that you could survive. The shy and quiet you, who barely had to courage to say no. It was something you always struggled with, but you hoped that this new job would help you with it.

You were hired at Alchemax as a lab assistant. You tried to fit in, but everyone was so self centered that you ended up being a loner. Everyone except one person. Miguel O'Hara. He had extended the hand of friendship to you, wanting to make you feel more comfortable around the place. You instantly fell for him. He was so kind to you and understanding. You had just wished that everyone was like him. You had wished you had the courage to ask him out.

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Miguel asked as he tried to grab your attention. You flinched out of your daydream,

"Y-Yeah, sorry. I've been...tired lately."

"I've noticed that you've been taking on other people's work. You need to learn to say no," Miguel told you before typing away on his computer. You could only nod,

"I...know...I've also had trouble sleeping...N-News of that...Ghostface going around killing people has me spooked." Miguel glanced you way, handing you a bottle of water, "T-Thanks."

"You'll be okay, tomorrow's Halloween, that's the last day he goes out. Just stay home, okay?" You let out a small whimper, hesitating. "You are staying home, right?" Miguel asked, stopping his work. Tears almost fell from your eyes,

"I-I got...I was told to join some of the others...a-at a small...work...party," Miguel saw you shaking, "I-I...I couldn't say no..."

"Sí, ¿qué voy a hacer contigo? Mi pobre muñeca inocente. (Aye, what am I to do with you? My poor innocent doll.)" Miguel whispered, knowing that you knew nothing of Spanish. He took you hand, calming you down, "Don't worry, you'll be okay."

You looked into Miguel's eyes, smiling softly as you calmed down. After wiping your tears away, you thanked him quietly before hurrying off to go back to work. Miguel watched you scurry off. He growled lowly as he walked to his trash. That invitation was in there somewhere. Your coworkers didn't care about you to invite you to some Halloween party. They had other plans, and now Miguel did too. Finding the paper, Miguel's eyes shined brighter than normal.

"Tendré que matar a todos y hacerme el héroe, sólo para ti, mi preciosa querida. (I'll just have to kill everyone and play the hero, just for you my precious darling)"

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

You stood in the corner of the small party, watching all of your coworkers enjoying themselves. You glanced down at your costume, wondering if it was too weird. Everyone else was dressed up in slutty and revealing outfits and here you were, with the costume you thought looked the cutest. You sighed sadly, wondering why you were even here. No one was talking to you. You were just there. Another sigh escaped your lips as you made your way to the upstairs bathroom.

As you washed up, you heard faint screaming. You gasped and shut the light off, your heart beating faster. Loud thumps echoed from the staircase, causing you to whimper. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the loud thumping stopped right in front of the bathroom door. You hurried into the tub, holding yourself as you shook. This was not how you wanted to die. You cried as the door slammed open,

"BOO!"

"KYAAA!" You screamed, covering your ears. You heard loud laughter and raised your head to your coworkers,

"Ah man! Did you get that on video!?" One of them yelled.

You stormed out of the bathroom, sobbing past everyone as they laughed at you. You made your way to the backyard since the front entrance was blocked off. You sat on the steps, crying your eyes out. They only invited you to make fun of you since you were so scared of Ghostface. You were just a quiet coworker, what did you do to deserve this? Upon hearing another scream, you whimpered in response. Were they trying to scare you again?

"I'll just stay here for a bit. They have to unblock the door soon," You whispered.

----------

Miguel had watched the whole thing. His anger had reached a new boiling point. Fixing his mask, Miguel's grip on his knife tighten as he made his way inside. He was the one who blocked the door. Standing in the corner, Miguel watched you ran outside crying. Perfect. He was going to start with the stragglers downstairs. It was a big house and not too many people. The job needed to get new employees anyway. These guys were just dead weight.

Miguel approached each person a little louder than he wanted. He was so fueled with anger that he couldn't focus. He just wanted everyone to pay for what they did. After his first kill, Miguel inhaled deeply. The smell of metallic blood filling his nostrils. He was not going to get now. He had taken out his anger during this month. It was the only time he could. Slowly making his way over to his next victim, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he thought of you.

You were going to be his perfect little wife. Miguel was going to make sure you stay in the dark about his secret. He just wanted to keep you safe. He wanted to keep you protected and loved. When you first arrived at Alchemax, Miguel thought he saw an angel. A shy little angel who entered his life just for him. Miguel had hunted every single asshole who dared tried to flirt with you, or even scared you. Miguel was going to be your dark protector.

"AHHHHHH!"

There it was. The first scream of the night and not from a scare, but because of the dead bodies that laid under Miguel. Smiling through the mask, Miguel watched the girl run to warn the others. Ah yes, that was the start. Miguel inhaled deeply, getting enjoyment from true horror. He was going to enjoy his last few kills of the night. It was going to be another year until Miguel could kill again.

----------

After calming down, you decided to leave. You rubbed your eyes once more before entering the house. It was quiet aside from the sound of thumping from upstairs. They were probably enjoying themselves. Honestly, you were mad at your cruel coworkers. You stopped at the front door, seeing that it was still blocked. Why were they doing this to you? The couch was far too heavy for you to move on your own. Looking for another way out, you gasped as you stepped in something.

"My shoe," You whimpered, looking at the red puddle.

Following the puddle, you gasped sharply as you saw one of you coworkers dead. Your heart started to race again as screams came from upstairs. You hurried to the kitchen, wondering if there was a door there and froze as another dead body laid before you. This was bad. Ghostface was here and he was killing everyone. Tears began to roll down your cheeks again as you hurried to find somewhere to escape. Maybe there was a gate in the backyard?

"Please! Don't kill me!" One of your coworkers screamed as another ran down the stairs,

"(Y/N)?! You're still here?!" He yelled and gasped as Ghostface started to walk down the stairs, "Fuck it, I ain't dying here!"

You yelped as your coworker grabbed you harshly and threw you in front of the staircase. You eyes widen as you nearly froze in fear as Ghostface stood directly before you. You couldn't move. His knife was stained with blood. You shook and closed your eyes, crying as you waited for the worst.

"No! Stay back!"

You shuddered a gasp as you heard Ghostface leave to your coworker first. Quickly, you found a closet and hid in there until it was safe. You were frighten and scared. Covering your ears, you tried to stay quiet as you waited. Waited for Ghostface to leave.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?" That voice. You knew it all too well.

"M-Miguel! R-Run!" You cried out.

----------

Miguel whispered some cusses towards your coworkers as he stabbed him. Now that everyone was dead, it was time for you. He knew that you ran to the living room, but where were you hiding? He stopped to clean his knife in the kitchen sink, washing all the blood off. Once that was done, he attached the knife to his thigh strap under his pants. He then took his mask off, putting it inside one of his cloak pockets that was big enough.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?" He called out, wanting to bring you out of hiding.

"M-Miguel! R-Run!" Those cries weren't meant for you.

"It's okay, I'm here now. I saw Ghostface head upstairs, quickly close your eyes and come out. I'll get you out of here."

You were such a good girl for him. You crawled out of the closet with your eyes closed, your breathing still heavy. Miguel just smiled towards your shaken form, knowing that you were going to be in his arms in a second. With ease, he picked you up, holding you close. He could feel your heart beat. You were sobbing and holding onto him for dear life. You had no reason to cry now. Miguel was going to take care of you.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here," Miguel whispered as he stroked your head. You just cried into his shoulder,

"M-Miguel, I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"You have nothing to apologize for. I'll take good care of you,"

"T-They're all dead. I-I thought...I was next...Miguel...I love you. I love you. I'm sorry, I'm a scaredy cat and shy and nervous...I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner," You kept babbling, crying your heart out since you thought you were going to die.

"Dios mío, no me esperaba esto. Voy a follarte bien esta noche para que te olvides de todo esto. (My god, I wasn't expecting this. I'm going to fuck you go good tonight that you're going to forget all about this.)" He groaned lowly.

"M-Miguel?"

"It's okay, (Y/n), I love you too. I'll take good care of you."

-----------

You sniffled as you stepped out of Miguel's shower, rubbing your arms as you wore some of his spare clothes. Miguel was kind enough to take you to his home, wanting to comfort you for the night. You were nervous as you stepped into his living room. It was quiet. Miguel was taking a shower in his other bathroom. Who would have thought that Miguel was rich? You explored his place, still surprised by the turn of events.

You ended up in the kitchen, noticing a knife in the sink. It looked so much like the knife Ghostface had. Shaking the thought out of your head, you made your way back to the living room. You wanted to forget about what happened tonight. You tried to at least. You knew you were going to have trouble sleeping again. Tomorrow was going to be harsher because everyone was going to be asking about the others. Asking why you were the only one left alive.

"W-What if they think I killed them?" You stuttered at the thought. Miguel approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist,

"Then they would be fools," He kissed the back of your neck.

You shuddered at the affection Miguel gave you. Turning around, you pulled him into a tight hug. Miguel chuckled as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom. Your cheeks burned up as he placed you on his bed. Miguel stroked your cheek, calming you down again. His smile instantly making you fold for him.

"Do you trust me?" Miguel asked you as he slowly climbed over you. You just nodded, "Good, there's something you need to know,"

You whimpered as Miguel kissed your neck. His hands stroked your sides under the shirt you wore. He let out a low groan since you looked so good in his clothes. You let out a breathless moan as he cupped you breasts. Miguel was going to wait until you were completely in his grasp before telling you. After all, you couldn't say no. You were going to be his good girl forever.

"M-Miguel?" You whined softly as he took your shirt off, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples.

"You're not going back to work," Miguel whispered as he started to grind his bulge against your cunt, "You're going to stay here. Make it look like you died with the others."

"W-What?!" You asked, but flung your head back as Miguel sucked on your breasts.

You moaned softly as Miguel spread you legs, allowing him to rut into you rougher. You felt yourself getting wetter. The boxers he let you wear were too thin and easy for him to grind against. You tried to ask him what he meant, but you were being overwhelmed with pleasure. Miguel's hands were now resting against the boxers, rubbing your clit against the fabric. You body leaned into his touch, desperate for more. His tongue swirled around your nipple, making his way back up to your neck.

"You're going to stay here, baby." He whispered again, his fingers dipping under the boxers and circling your clit, "My beautiful angel. I can't let anyone have you. I can't let anyone harm you. You were always mine."

"Mhm~ M-Miguel~"

"(Y/N), don't be afraid of me. I will never harm you." Miguel watched as you bit you lower lip, moving your hips with his hand, "Así es. Déjame convertirte en la esposa perfecta. Déjame manchar tu hermosa inocencia. (That's right. Let me fuck you into the perfect wife. Let me taint your beautiful innocence." He groaned lowly.

You whimpered a moan as you felt a knot tighten inside you. Miguel moved his fingers faster against your clit, causing that knot to tighten. You tried to rub your legs together, but Miguel kept them spread. He sucked against your neck, groaning as you cam from just him playing with your clit. His fingers dipped lower, two digits entering your tight, soaked cunt. You moaned again, your cunt squeezing his fingers as he pumped inside you.

"Ah, my sweet innocent little angel. Watching you break because of me is so delicious." Miguel groaned as you squirmed and moved your hips to his touch, "You're going to stay here. I'll make sure no one will ever hurt you again, understood?"

"Y-Yes! Yes!" You cried out as his fingers feverishly fucked your tight gummy walls.

You whined as Miguel raised your legs over his shoulders. Your pussy clenched his fingers as he started to curl against your sweet spot. You flung your head back as he started to wiggle his fingers inside you. His thumb rubbed against your clit again, bringing you over to the edge. Miguel wasn't making any sense, but his words were making you wetter. Honestly, with how tonight went, you wouldn't mind being stuck in Miguel's home forever. He was your protector.

"M-MIG-" You screamed out as you reached another orgasm. Miguel pulled his fingers out, licking them,

"You even taste sweet," He hummed, holding his erection towards your twitching folds, "You have no idea the amount of men I had to get rid of to make sure you stayed innocent, just for me. Seré tu primero en todo... y tu último. (I will be your first for everything...and your last.)" He groaned.

You whimpered as you felt Miguel's dick stretch you out painfully. His cock was so thick and long. Your pussy was convulsing around him, sucking him in while drool rolled down your lips. He was making you feel so full. You wanted to question him on what he meant by getting rid of people, but you started to get drunk off his cock. Another whimper escaped your lips as Miguel groaned, fitting his whole length inside you. You swore that he was pressing against your cervix, but you weren't sure. This was a first for you.

"Un ajuste perfecto. Fuiste hecho para mí, cariño. Voy a grabar la forma de mi polla en tu memoria. (A perfect fit. You were made for me, darling. I'm going to fuck the shape of my dick into your memory.)" He groaned, slowly pulling out of you, "Killing all those people made this worth it."

"H-Huh?"

You moaned loudly as Miguel thrusted his dick back inside you, hitting your cervix with each thrust. You cried out as Miguel started to bully your cunt, causing you to turn into putty under him. You could barely feel your legs as the slapping sounds between you grew louder. His dick forming a perfect space inside your pussy. You trembled as you started to reach another orgasm, unable to take the pleasure that he was filling you with.

"Look at you, so fucked out on my cock. How does it feel to get fucked by Ghostface, baby? Does my dick feel that good?" Miguel moaned as you tighten around him, "Yes, it does, doesn't it. Why else would you be squeezing me this tight?"

"H-Hah~ Ah~ Y-You're....ah~ mhpm...G-Ghost...f-face?" You whimpered lowly. Miguel fasten his pace, enjoying the white ring that formed around his dick,

"Yes. I'm the scary Ghostface that killed those asshole coworkers of ours," He chuckled, stopping to fill you with his seed, "I told you that you'd be okay. I will never, ever hurt you. Only love you."

You wanted to be scared. You truly did, but both your brain and your heart were only thinking about Miguel's dick pounding you still. His hot semen filling your womb as he kept fucking you dumb. You body twitched from overstimulation as Miguel started to rub your clit again. He leaned down to kiss you, biting you lower lip as you moaned for him. His grip tighten against your hips, rutting into you furiously. He wanted to make sure you knew that you were his.

"Awe? Tired already? I think I need to show you how many people I've killed for you. Here's the second victim." Miguel groaned as he cummed inside you again.

"Mhm~" You muffled lowly, growing exhausted. Miguel chuckled as he pulled you to his lap,

"Tienes razón cariño. Vas a ser la esposa de Ghostface. Siempre puedo mostrarte mi amor en cualquier momento. (You're right darling. You're going to be Ghostface's wife. I can always show you my love anytime.)

----------

When you woke up, Miguel was by your side with water, vitamins and breakfast. He had bathed you and put on a fresh pair of clothes. You recalled his confession from last night and grew slightly nervous. Miguel, the man you longed for, was the murderous Ghostface. He killed your coworkers and faked your death. You now belonged to Miguel. You wanted to be scared, but Miguel had proved to you that he was never going to hurt you.

Maybe it was your blind faith or actually being fucked dumb, but you willingly agreed to stay with Miguel. You stayed in his place as his house wife, greeting him with love everyday. Miguel rewarded your love with his brutal sex, reminding you that you belonged to him. By next Halloween, Miguel returned to his Ghostface persona, needing to release some steam. You became his accomplish, making sure that he returned home safe and sound.

"How was my good girl tonight?" Miguel hummed as he slapped his dick into your soaked pussy. You whined into the bedsheets,

"D-Distracted t-the...ah~ police...s-sending em...mhm~ opposite side of...of....ah~ t-town~!" You cried out. Miguel groaned happily, harshly shoving his dick deeper into you to fill,

"That's my perfect angel. Well done."

"T-Thank you!" You moaned against him, shaking from the pleasure. Miguel hummed happily as he kept thrusting inside you,

"I think you deserve a reward. Why don't we try making a little Ghostface jr?"

"Yes! Yes!"

Your vision blurred as you moved in rhythm to Miguel's thrusts. Your mind started to fill with lust as you became tainted by Miguel. You were just as bad as him now, but you didn't care anymore. As long as Miguel was there to love you and protect you, you were okay. You moaned loudly as you cam against his dick, burying your head into the pillow again. You were happy with you life now. You were going to protect and live with Miguel forever.

Forever as Ghostface's wife.

#kinktober #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel

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arieslost · 4 months

Text

cinnamon whiskey | ln4

lando norris x fem!writer!reader

summary: you meet a famous race car driver in one of the last places you’d expect— the adirondacks.

word count: 4,578

warnings: drinking, minor injuries (small description of bruising)

masterlist — join my tag list here!

Your editor was going to kill you.

Every day brought you closer to the deadline for your manuscript, and every day you could hardly help yourself out in getting to your self-imposed goal of 1,000 words. It wasn’t a difficult feat; you’d done it before, and you didn’t have anything else to be doing. You had absolutely zero distractions: it was just you, your notebook, and your computer. There was only one problem.

The words just weren’t coming to you, and you’d already gotten a two week extension on the deadline. It felt like all your writing abilities had been rescinded.

“I’m screwed.” You professed to your best friend, falling into a pathetic heap on her couch. You needed a serious pick-me-up after struggling to write a measly paragraph, and she had readily offered a girls night.

“I think you’re being a little dramatic. Scoot over.” She replied, shoving your legs out of the way so she could sit. “Maybe you just need to get out of your house.”

“And go where? I can’t just pack up and take a vacation right now.” You grumbled into the couch cushion.

“Why don’t you go upstate?” She suggested after a moment of silence.

“Upstate?” You repeated.

“Yeah, go to the Adirondacks. My dad owns a house up there, remember? We had a blast the last time we were there.”

You and your best friend had gone up to the Adirondacks when you graduated college, and you always prefaced the retelling of it with, “It was one of the best weeks of my life.” You almost felt silly for not thinking of doing something like that in the first place.

“It might be a good idea… Do you think your dad would be okay with me staying there?”

Your best friend laughed. “Yes, you idiot. He’s let me stay there by myself, he’ll definitely let you.”

A mere 24 hours went by, and you were settled in a cozy cabin in the Adirondacks with the desperate hope of having the rest of your manuscript ready by the end of your stay. Otherwise, you might as well just fire yourself and save your editor some time.

It wasn’t the only cabin in the area– it was more like a very small community made up of six houses built exactly the same. The area was usually used by people with a decent amount of cash lining their pockets, so you were extra grateful to your best friend’s father. He had taken one look at the dejection on your face when your best friend had mentioned her grand idea, and simply handed you the keys with the promise that your stay would be free of charge.

You did feel a little out of place, though– you could have sworn one of your neighbors was in a movie you’d just watched, and another one was just so ridiculously attractive there was no way he wasn’t famous for something. You’d seen him out on his front porch when you arrived, and had to force yourself not to stare or salivate over his bare torso.

The change of scenery around you helped tremendously. At first. You always felt refreshed when you went somewhere new, particularly if it was somewhere you felt more connected to nature. You had gotten into the habit of taking walks to calm yourself when you got frustrated, and having new sights was definitely an exciting prospect for when you inevitably slammed your computer shut and stormed out the door like you just did a few moments ago.

You’ll be the first to admit it: the story just isn’t coming together. Your main character has a goal, a purpose, but she is entirely lacking any kind of driving force to get where she needs to go.

She has no motivation.

You can appreciate irony, but there’s nothing funny about it right now.

The dirt and leaves crunch under your feet as you walk down the first trail that you see. It branches off from the main path that runs between all of the houses: yours, the attractive guy’s, and one other, and then the suspected movie star’s and the other two on the other side. Right now, you just want to see nothing but the path before you, the trees in your peripheral vision, the gentle summer breeze in your hair, and maybe a chipmunk or a squirrel here and there.

But, of course, you can’t even have that. You’re alone with your thoughts for all of two seconds before you hear a crash off to your left that sends a few birds flying. You would have ignored it if not for the groan that immediately followed.

“Um… hello?” You call out, doubling back to try and see just what the hell had happened.

If you were in a horror movie, this would most certainly be your death scene.

“Ah…” It’s definitely a man, and he definitely sounds like he’s in pain.

“Are you okay?” You step off the path, getting closer to where the noise had come from.

That’s where you find him— your insanely attractive neighbor, practically in the fetal position, entirely focused on the camera in his hand. His jaw is clenched, whether in pain or concern for the camera, you don’t know. You just know he has a sharp jawline, long eyelashes, and curly hair.

Ugh, you could cry because he’s so good looking.

He looks up at you, eyes meeting yours, and he has the decency to look embarrassed.

“What the hell just happened to you?”

“I, um… I fell out of that tree.” He confesses, pointing to a branch, not too high up, but now dangling in half.

“And you were in the tree because…” You trail off, gesturing for him to explain further.

“Right, well, I was taking pictures and had an idea for a good one from a higher vantage point, so I climbed the tree. Thought I had a good balance, but—” He winces as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “I didn’t.”

“No kidding. You’re lucky you didn’t break anything.” You marvel, hands held out in front of you just in case he falls over when he starts standing up.

“I’m not too sure about that.” He huffs out a pained laugh.

“You wouldn’t have been able to stand up so easily if you had, and your wrist and shoulder look fine.” You point out. “I have no doubt that you bruised your side up pretty badly though.”

“Yeah? How would you know?” He leans against the tree he just fell out of, his miraculously unbroken camera hanging from the strap around his neck.

“I’m a writer. I’m like a black hole of useless information.”

“I don’t think it’s useless anymore.” He takes a step forward and his face immediately contorts into a grimace. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Well, you’ve already asked so much of me, but if you really have to, then sure.” You tease, and he laughs again.

“I’m probably going to need some help getting back to the house,” he begins, and then continues after taking in the surprised look on your face. “But you don’t have to. I can just crawl or something. Maybe I’ll get lucky and make it back before nightfall.”

Not just attractive, but funny too? You might as well make the most out of these two weeks and use whatever you can to help you finish that dreaded manuscript. Besides, the only other person you’ve ever met who can hold a torch to your sense of humor is your best friend. This has to be a sign of some sort.

“Alright, but at least tell me your name first.”

His name is Lando, you’ve known him for an hour, and you think you’re in love with him.

Sure, you’re frustrated that he completely ruined the solitude that you craved, but the ice maker in his house is broken and he desperately needs some for the bruise that you know is darkening by the second underneath his t-shirt. So he’s sprawled out on your couch, and you’re in the kitchen collecting ice cubes to wrap up in a hand towel.

“Alright, lift your shirt up,” you instruct, walking into the living room and taking a seat beside him.

“I usually take a girl out before I let her see me half naked.”

“But it’s okay if everyone else sees you out on your porch half naked?”

“You were looking?” He tilts his head down a little and raises his eyebrows. “Liked what you saw, did you?”

You blush. “Just shut up and lift your shirt.”

He hums a little to himself as he pulls his shirt up, revealing the beginnings of a bruise on his tan skin that is already swollen and definitely going to get worse over the next couple of days. It looks like it continues below the waistband of his boxers, but you’re not about to tell him to pull his pants down.

“That’s ugly.”

“I’ve had worse.” He shrugs, biting his lip when you gently rest the makeshift ice pack against his side.

“You have a habit of falling out of trees?”

“I have a habit of being in potentially life-threatening situations. It’s kinda part of my job.” He says it like he’s waiting for you to figure something out, waiting for something to click.

You take a moment to just look at him again. His fluffy curls, his infuriatingly handsome face, his thick neck, his toned stomach. And then something you’ve heard your best friend say a million times echoes in your head.

I bet every F1 driver’s contract has a clause that says they have to be hot in order to get in. I mean, you have Daniel Ricciardo, Charles Leclerc, and don’t even get me started on–

“Oh my God. Lando Norris?” You exclaim, almost jumping up from shock but stopping yourself so you don’t jostle him. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I thought you knew!”

You glare at him. “Cocky much?”

“Well, what did you think when I told you my name?” He asks defensively.

“I don’t know, I thought your parents really liked Star Wars or something.”

He scoffs at this and smacks your hand away, holding the ice himself. “That’s real creative.”

“I’m sorry! My best friend is really into Formula One, but the most I’ve seen is bits and pieces of a race. I’ve never seen you, y’know, not in your car.” You feel like your eyes are practically bugging out of your head. “Wow, this is insane.” You knew he was too good looking to not be famous.

“Want me to sign something for you?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“I will punch you right in your bruise.”

He stays for a couple more hours, readily enduring your endless stream of questions that follow your revelation of him being a Formula One driver, only getting a reprieve when the ice melts and you have to go get more.

He compensates for recounting his entire journey to Formula One by asking you his own questions the moment he’s done. You tell him more about how you became a writer– how you got your bachelor’s degree, got out into the world, and realized you had no clue what you wanted to do with your life, so you took a retail job. It paid a dollar above minimum wage, but it was worth it when something you heard a customer say once inspired you to craft a narrative that your editor liked enough to pick it up. She’d taken a gamble on you; you were her fourth client and the book wasn’t finished yet.

“So that’s why I’m out here,” you pause to catch your breath. “I need to have the manuscript done two weeks from yesterday, and I wasn’t getting anything done at home.”

“Needed a change of scenery.” Lando nods, like he can read your mind.

“Exactly.” You say quietly, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious under his intense gaze but refusing to look away.

The energy in the room shifts as the two of you look at each other, and you break the sudden eye contact when you take note of the fact that it’s dark out.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” he breaks the silence, pulling his shirt back down and letting out a quiet groan as he gets up. “I’ll see you tomorrow? There’s no way someone will be able to get up here to fix my ice machine by the morning.”

You blink at him a couple times, still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that you just spent hours talking with Lando Norris, all because he fell out of a tree. You didn’t even offer to make him dinner or anything, and he’s making plans to do this all over again.

You still haven’t spoken, so he waves his hand in front of your face. “Oh! Yeah, of course. Be careful, okay?”

He gives you an obnoxious salute. “I’ll try to survive the 50 steps it takes to get to my place from here.”

You go running for your laptop and start writing as soon as he’s gone.

He’s at your door in the morning, and spends the whole day with you. Then the next, and the next, and the next thing you know, you only have four days left in your best friend’s dad’s house and it feels like you and Lando have known each other your entire lives. He isn’t able to do much in terms of physical activity, and when he trips over a root after insisting he’s fine you make the executive decision to go back to your house.

“Make some room, would you?” You sigh, looking for a place to sit thanks to the fact that he’s taking up the entire couch.

He simply lifts his head up.

“You’re joking, right?”

“I’m in pain. Don’t you want me to be comfortable?” He pouts at you.

“You’re insufferable, and a liar.” All the same, you sit down, and he rests his head in your lap.

He ignores you, eyes closed with a satisfied little smile on his face.

For his antics, you decide to disturb his newfound peace by putting the ice pack directly on his face and laugh when he bats it away.

“That’s just mean,” he whines, pressing his lips together when you put the ice on his bruise.

It’s mostly yellow and green now, like a weird rendition of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Lando had made a game out of poking it two nights ago that ended just as quickly when he poked himself too hard and blamed you for it when you had been in the middle of telling him not to. After that, he hadn’t touched it, and now it looks a lot better. The ice probably isn’t needed anymore, but you’d prefer to err on the side of caution.

“You’ll live,” you say now, patting the top of his head to distract him from the discomfort.

“The last time I had a bruise this bad was when I crashed in Vegas last year.” He says, blinking up at the ceiling. “Took a while to go away.”

“I think I remember hearing about that. You crashed pretty early, no?”

“Yup. Barely got to race.” The sentences come out very clipped, like he’s still upset about it.

“It was a bad crash, huh?”

“Pretty bad.” You don’t have anything to say in response to that, so you start brushing your fingers through his curls. He relaxes instantaneously.

He almost falls asleep with his head in your lap, and that’s when you can’t take it anymore and have to kick him out. He’s almost to the last step when he stops and turns back, making direct eye contact with you.

“Y’know, it’s too bad you weren’t there when I crashed.” He gives you a soft smile. “You’re pretty good at taking care of me.”

Well, shit.

There’s a bottle of cinnamon whiskey sitting in one of the kitchen cabinets that you’ve been waiting for an excuse to open. You should drink it now when you’re thinking about him, but you decide to wait until you see him again.

You open your laptop and write until you fall asleep.

By the time you let him in the next morning, you’re stumped again. You only slept for a few hours and expected to get right back into your groove the moment you woke up, but when you read over what you wrote last night, your brain just refused to comprehend it. It feels like you’re back to square one, but you can’t be too upset about it when Lando makes his way through the door. He doesn’t mention anything about ice like he usually does, which makes you equally happy and disappointed. Happy that he’s feeling good enough to forego the ice, disappointed because that means that there’s really no reason for him to come over anymore.

But if there’s one thing you can expect from him, it’s his spontaneity.

“We should go out tonight.”

“And where exactly would we be going?” You ask, watching him kick back on the couch like he’s the one that lives here.

“I dunno, just outside, I guess. You like stargazing?”

“I love it.” You reply enthusiastically. “I bet the stars are gorgeous out here. I’ve been cooped up every night, I haven’t had the chance to see them.”

“It’s settled then. Cancel your plans, you’re all mine tonight.”

“I didn’t— never mind.” You silently will away the flush creeping up your neck. “Actually, I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Shoot.”

“How’d those pictures come out? The ones you were trying to take when you fell?” You lean over the back of the couch in order to actually see him as you’re talking to him.

“That was two questions.” He laughs when you smack his shoulder. “I got a couple action shots as I was falling. They’re terrible, but I’m thinking about keeping them for the memories. Fun story for the kids, don’t you think?”

“Sure.” The kids?! You’re definitely breaking out the whiskey tonight. It’s the first (and only) thing you grab when he goes back to his place to get a blanket.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You ask the moment the two of you step onto the trail, and he puts a hand over his heart.

“Your concern for me is adorable.”

“I’m only asking because you almost ate shit last time.” You burst out laughing at the immediate change in his expression.

He ends up leading the way for a mile or two before you reach a clearing that you would’ve discovered had he not fallen out of the tree.

“This is beautiful,” you muse, taking in your surroundings as Lando lays the blanket on the ground.

The sun is just about set, a light breeze passing through; a few different wildflowers are waving throughout the clearing. You look around and can’t see any sign of civilization. While that should make you nervous, since you’re with a guy you’ve only known for less than two weeks, it instead makes you relax. You forget entirely about your computer waiting for you back at the house and busy yourself with getting the top off the whiskey bottle.

“Found it the second day I was here. I’ll have to show you the pictures I got once I upload them all.” Lando says, furrowing his eyebrows as you struggle with your task. “Need some help there?”

“Be my guest,” you hand it over and have to force yourself to remain calm when he pops the top off like it was nothing.

“Ladies first,” he hands it back.

With pleasure, you think to yourself. Maybe getting drunk will help you stop acting like a schoolgirl. You take a generous drink, squeezing your eyes shut and breathing out slowly. “That is strong.”

“Hand it over.” He lets out a low whistle as soon as he swallows and returns it to you. “Wow.”

“I actually had a dream like this once,” you say, wincing at the burn of the whiskey as it slides down your throat. “I was just laying there, staring at the stars, with no worries. It was so peaceful.”

Lando takes the bottle from your outstretched hand. “I don’t dream.”

“What?!” The high pitch of your voice slices through the night. “Are you serious?”

“Yup.” He takes a long sip from the bottle before placing it down in the space between you. “Never have.”

“That’s- that’s crazy.” You shake your head.

“I’d think it’s nicer that way, no?” he counters. “I probably sleep better than you.”

“I mean, I guess. But then you don’t have any crazy dreams to share.”

“You always remember your dreams?”

Now, you blush. You’re not sure why you’re embarrassed. “I, um… I keep a journal.”

Lando’s eyes widen. “No way.”

“I have dreams written down all the way back to 2015.” You confess, reaching for the bottle again.

He starts laughing, like he thinks you’re joking.

“I’m serious!” You exclaim, shoving his shoulder. “In my defense, I’ve actually come up with some ideas from my dreams. Fat lot of good they’re doing for me right now, but…”

Lando hums, eyes skimming over your now crestfallen expression. He passes the bottle back.

“Thanks,” you mumble, tilting the bottle up to your lips.

“I’m sure you’ll find some type of inspiration while we’re out here.”

“I only have two days left, Lan.”

He gestures for you to pass the bottle back, and you do. You watch as he takes a sip, looking from his lips, to his jaw, to his neck, to his Adam’s apple that bobs as he swallows. You’re really going to miss this view. He lets out a quiet hiss. “Damn, that’s strong whiskey.”

“I told you.”

There’s a lull in the conversation, and then he speaks again. “My ice machine got fixed.”

“That’s—”

“Last week.” He cuts you off, doing that stupid thing he does where he stares directly into your eyes.

Your heart is in your throat, and your voice is small when you reply. “Okay…”

“And I was supposed to leave three days ago.”

Now your jaw drops. “Why… Why are you still here?”

“Because you’re still here.” He answers evenly, the alcohol clearly working in his favor. “I initially came here for the same reason as you– needed a change of scenery. It’s summer break right now, and my friend Logan told me it was super nice up here. It is, but then I had my little mishap and… it’s been a lot better since you showed up. So I decided to stay a little longer.”

He’s close to you now, so close you can smell the whiskey on his breath, so you say the only thing you can think to say. “I can’t believe you fell out of a tree.”

“I can’t believe you took care of me this whole time.” He brushes your hair out of your face, and his fingers linger on your cheek.

Your internal giddiness rises when you realize he’s actually about to kiss you. Your stomach is doing Olympic level gymnastics and you don’t trust yourself to speak, so you let the whiskey do it for you: you kiss him first.

You can’t remember the last time you kissed anyone, but the moment he pulls you on top of him you know that you won’t ever forget kissing him.

“Lan…” you break away from him to catch your breath, smoothing his curls back from his forehead. You can just see the glint in his eyes as he stares up at you, and it’s borderline painful knowing that you only get to enjoy this view for two more days.

You don’t remember what you were going to say to him. It’s way too soon for “I love you,” and not the right time to say “I already miss you.” You still want to say both.

Like he can hear your inner turmoil, he silences it by touching his forehead to yours. “Kiss me again, please,” he whispers.

You don’t waste a second in giving him what he wants, wanting nothing more in this moment than to feel his lips against yours again. You’re careful to avoid his side as he lays back on the blanket, keeping a firm grip on your hips so you don’t go anywhere. You try to convey everything you want to say into the kiss: I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. I know I’m going to miss you. Please don’t let me go.

He holds you closer and gently slips his tongue into your mouth, and you melt into him, knowing the whole while that Lando Norris has effectively ruined all other men for you.

Six Months Later.

Your phone is ringing in the other room as you’re in the middle of recounting the kiss to your best friend for the millionth time.

“Sorry, I’ll be right back,” you apologize. “It might be important.”

Thinking it’s your editor, because who else would call you at this late hour, you don’t look at the caller ID before you answer. “Hi, listen, I wanted to talk to you about—”

“The love interest falls out of a tree, huh?”

Your mouth falls open. “Lando?”

“That would be me. Or should I change my name to Darren?”

You roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “I thought you were never going to call me.”

You’d finished your manuscript the day before you went home. He’d been sleeping right next to you as you wrote the final words, and you should’ve brought it up that morning. Instead, you left your number on his porch the day you left, too deep in overthinking mode to actually face him and properly say goodbye. You truly didn’t expect him to call you after that act of such cowardice, especially after the two of you spent almost the entirety of your last days together at various levels of undress.

“I really wanted to,” he admits. “At least ten different times. I think Oscar might have assaulted me if I chickened out this time.”

“Yeah, because you won’t shut the hell up about her!” A voice in the background exclaims, and you hear something go flying.

“Get out!” Lando snaps, and you can hear Oscar’s laughter fading.

“Sweet of you to subject him to hearing all about me.”

“Come to the race at Silverstone.” He says before you can even finish your sentence. “I’ll pay for the flight, the hotel, everything. Just come.”

You feel like the floor just fell out from under your feet. “Lan—”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” It’s said in a nearly unintelligible whisper, but his tone changes so suddenly you have to sit down.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either.” You confess. “That’s… kind of why I wrote you into my book.”

“Please, come to Silverstone,” he repeats, practically begging. “Come be with me.”

And when he finds you in the crowd after taking the win at his home race, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to yours for everyone to see, you’re immediately taken back to those two weeks you spent in the Adirondacks, where you finally found the inspiration you’d been missing your entire life.

note: this one goes out to my fellow writers who desperately wish their inspiration would fall out of a tree— writer’s block will never defeat us.

this got a little long, so if you’re reading this, thank you thank you thank you.

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @anathedivine @xfuckoffx @architect-2015 @violetiss3lfish @havaneselover08 @paigeworlds @whatever7justchillin @xoredmoonlightxo @dovieloovie @totowolffstablexoxo @maddie-bell @lalisgs11 @rrrraaaalllluuuu @formulasportworld @madisonbidaddy @anedpev @estherapz-blog @jess-wither @loveyatopluto @athena-artemis-dorian-gray @lou-larcher5 @clearlyabi @fizzpopsnap101 @fluerlaurent @mcmuppet @positiveaspirations @notturlover @crazymofo-96 @chanthereader @apollo-axolotl

#full fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 3 months

Text

SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

The one where the fire department is called. And Nirvana might not just be a word on a hoodie. or The twenty-sixth installment of the Skz!Pack Prequel series.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, SKZ!Pack, Pack!prequel, ot8, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, hwang hyunjin, lee felix, han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, skz smut, skz fluff, skz angst, skz imagines, skz reactions, skz scenarios, abo, a/b/o, skz abo, alpha beta omega, femreader, poly!skz

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Light Smut

Title: Emergency Stop

12 Hours Earlier

Chan sighs heavily and leans back in his chair, spinning a few aimless circles as he lets his gaze wander across the tiled ceiling of the student studio.

He listens to the sound of fingers clicking across keyboards, the quiet hum of equipment, and then announces finally, to no one in particular, just to get it off his chest, “I think she’s avoiding me.” Hongjoong pulls his headphones off his ears, letting them drop down around his neck, as he turns from his current project to stare at Chan in exasperation, one dark brow arched.

“I think that’s a little dramatic, mate.”

“Wellllllll-” Changbin hems from the other side of the room, a grimace going across his features, as he swivels in his chair to face them, not quite meeting Chan’s gaze.

Chan bolts upright, his voice loud with triumph. “Ah ha! I knew it!”

“Oh my goood.” Hongjoong groans, scrubbing at his face with his hands, before he must decide that they’re not worth the trouble, turning back to his computer and pulling his headphones back up- on both ears this time.

Changbin’s lips twist to the side in an obvious guilt ridden expression, his dark eyes finally meeting Chan’s.

Chan feels his stomach drop as he regards his best friend and packmate’s worry.

“What?” He asks, suddenly breathless, leaning forward in the office chair, his alpha suddenly on high alert. “What did I do? How did I fuck it up? You gotta tell me how to fix it, Bin, it’s fucking with my head.”

Changbin reaches up to rub at the back of his neck, Chan recognizes the nervous gesture, and clears his throat, his eyes darting around the room, as if trying to focus on anything except the man in front of him.

“You didn’t do anything, hyung. I swear to god, but I can’t tell you anything else, because (Y/N) will fucking eat me alive.”

“She is pretty fucking scary.” Hongjoong chimes in once more, glancing over his shoulder at Chan, his fingers paused on the mouse. “Almost in Seonghwa’s league. Almost.”

Chan glances back to Changbin, who is nodding avidly along in agreement with what the other alpha is saying.

Chan’s alpha is growling at his mate’s resistance, at the way he’s holding back, even if he knows how to fix this whole mess, but he takes in a deep, steadying breath, and clamps his hands in his lap, willing the angry wolf back down.

“Bin.” He tries again, glancing back to the other man, his voice steady, calm, imploring. “You gotta tell me something. If I don’t know what’s wrong, I can’t fix it, and I’m going crazy over here.” Changbin’s chest heaves with a sigh, and then he swallows, Chan watches the way his Adam's apple bobs, as he looks up to the ceiling, as if for some form of silent approval.

Finally, he sighs again, audibly this time, and rakes a hand agitatedly through his dark hair.

“Fine.”

Chan feels his entire body tense, waiting on what comes next.

He can sense a headache starting to pound to life behind his left eye.

He doesn’t know if it’s because of the current situation, or because he hasn’t really seen you much over the last week, and his alpha is taking direct note of the loss of contact.

Changbin shakes his head slightly to himself, as if he can’t believe what he’s going to say, going to reveal, and then he grits out, “She’s worried about something she said.”

Chan’s mind races, going over every tiny interaction the two of you have had in the last week and a half.

Nothing significant comes to mind.

“What?” He asks, puzzled, as if Changbin can reveal the clues to him.

Instead, the other alpha gives a half hearted shrug.

“I dunno, hyung. She wouldn’t tell me anything besides that. I’m sorry, man.”

Chan shakes his head, still analyzing every time you’ve spoken, or interacted, since he saw you during Jeongin’s heat.

Honestly, it wasn’t much, considering you’d been avoiding him at all costs.

He manages a weak grin, and stands, walking over to pat Changbin on the back.

“Nah, it’s fine, mate. Thanks for telling me that much. I’ll figure it out.”

Changbin glances up at him, expression unreadable, and gives a curt nod, already reaching for his headphones again.

“She feels things really fucking deeply. Deeper than the rest of us. Sometimes she just needs a little space to figure it out. But she cares about you, hyung. A lot. She wouldn’t be this fucking worried if she didn’t.”

Chan grips his shoulder a little tighter, a silent sign of acknowledgement, and goes back to his own work station.

He knows Changbin’s right. Knows he speaks from experience.

So why is his stomach still in knots?

*******

Fuck.

Your eyes dart around the small kitchen, helplessly looking for an escape route, before they settle on the two men sitting at the table, staring you down.

You clear your throat, and try to work up an easy smile.

“You were talking about me? I’m flattered Min.”

Minho’s smirk widens, growing sharp and dangerous, as if he knows exactly what you’re trying to do.

You’re sure he does.

He pats the chair beside him, in the middle of he and Chan.

“Have a seat.”

You can’t think of literally anything worse in this moment, your skin already hot underneath Chan’s stare, your fingers itching at your side, your alpha begging you to please get the fuck out of here already.

You take a step backward, back toward the safety of the hallway.

“That’s okay, I actually was just leaving to go on a run.”

Minho’s brow arches a little higher.

“At eleven PM?”

There is amusement in his tone, as if he knows he’s caught you in an outright lie.

You give a little shrug, and take another step toward the door.

“I do my best running at night. Must be the wolf in me.”

You don’t dare look at Chan, not when he’s right here, staring at you, expression unreadable. He hasn’t said one word since you entered the room, and you can practically feel your body withering from the shame of his heavy gaze.

It’s like he can see right through you, and you need to get out of here, right now.

“Anyway-” You’re halfway into the hallway now, the front door, your shining savior, within sight. You give the men a little wave and another unconvincing, weak smile. “-gotta go. Have fun.”

You dart for the front door, nearly bowling an emerging Jisung over, sending his popcorn flying.

“Hey!” He protests with a glare in your direction, but you don’t stop, tugging on your sneakers with record speed, before you barrel out the door of the apartment.

“Sorry, Jisungie!” You call over your shoulder, because you are, but honestly, in times of crisis-

You can breathe easier out here, in the quiet darkness of the dorm hallway, even though you’re still practically jogging, headed directly for the elevator.

You’re making a beeline for your dorm a few floors down, and you’re staying locked up in there until Chan decides to leave.

Well, not leave, because he lives here too, but at least until he decides to go back to his own kitchen and stop talking to Minho about whatever the hell they were discussing.

You slide through the gap of the doors in the elevator before they’re fully open, and pound the second floor button a few more times than necessary, catching your breath as you wait for the doors to close.

They’re almost down to a sliver, and you think you’ve gotten away with your hasty escape, when an arm shoots through, bouncing them back open, and Chan steps into view.

Immediately, the breath you’ve just regained leaves your body, as he joins you in the elevator, the doors hissing shut quietly behind him.

There’s silence, the space suddenly feeling smaller than normal, as you stare him down warily from your corner.

“What-” You start to say, in an attempt at least to fill the uncomfortable quiet, but Chan beats you to it.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He demands, dark eyes flashing, as the elevator jolts into motion.

You brace yourself against the wall, your mouth dropping open at his serious, commanding tone.

“I’m not avoiding you-” You start to protest weakly, the lie sounding unconvincing to even your own ears.

“Bullshit” Chan cuts you off once more with a growl, taking a menacing step toward you, and suddenly, you know, you’re not dealing with Christopher Bang any longer, you’re dealing with his alpha.

His irrational, incredibly pissed off and slighted alpha.

Fuck.

The elevator feels tiny now, saturated with the scent of thunder, and you swallow hard, your own alpha flattening its ears in response.

The sound of a ding signals the arrival of the next floor, and before you can make a move to do something, anything, Chan reaches behind him without a glance, and slams his palm down over the emergency stop button.

The elevator grinds to a sudden halt with an eerie shriek of gears, and then there is silence, all movement ceased.

Your mouth falls open once more, but you feel your own anger flare to life in the pit of your stomach, rising to meet his.

“Chan, what the fuck do you think you’re doing-”

He stalks toward you, and you shrink back into the corner, the cool metal of the hand bar digging into your back.

“Exactly what I should’ve done when this whole nonsense started.” He growls, caging you in as he puts his hands on either side of your head, fingers digging into the slick, cool brushed metal of the elevator’s walls as he glares down at you.

You’re choking on the storm now, your heart pounding against the wall of your ribs.

But you hold your ground regardless, lifting your head as defiance flashes across your gaze, and frost starts to crackle outward from you, freezing the storm.

“Oh? And what’s that? Emergency stop an elevator in a little temper tantrum?”

His dark eyes flash, and a muscle ticks in his jaw, but his voice is steady when he responds.

“If I have to trap you in a room with me to get you to talk over things like an adult, like my mate, then yes.”

You scoff, looking away from his burning gaze.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“That’s not what Changbin said.”

Your head jerks up, your angry gaze meeting his.

“Fuck Changbin.”

“I do, and I enjoy it.” Chan fires right back without missing a beat, crowding you into the corner further, his scowl deepening. “But that’s not what we’re here to talk about, is it?”

“I’m not. Avoiding you.” You grind out through gritted teeth, your jaw clicking with the immense pressure of keeping your rage back.

It’s a blatant lie, and you both know it.

Chan’s eyes darken, dripping golden around the pupils now, and when he parts his lips, his teeth flash in what’s almost a snarl, dangerous and threatening.

You can practically feel his alpha’s teeth poised warningly over your exposed throat.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this angry before.

“You think-” He begins, and his voice has dropped dangerously, a menacing growl in the back of his throat, a rumble in his chest. “-that even if I was stupid enough not to notice, he wouldn’t?”

Your lips part, ready to spit something back, but something about his words ring true in the hollow pit of your stomach.

He’s right. You could avoid him all you wanted, but your alpha, and his, would know. They were the ones who were suffering because of the distance, keening for their mates.

Fuck, if it was hell for the two of you, it was fucking torture for them.

Chan’s gaze hasn’t wavered from your own, not once, and when he speaks again, his words are just above a murmur, and you don’t miss the way his breath trembles on his next inhale.

“I can’t fucking sleep, (Y/N.) I can’t eat, I can’t study, I can’t produce, I can’t do anything, because every single waking moment is spent trying to figure out what I did wrong and how to fix it.”

You feel guilt drop like a hot pound of lead into the pit of your stomach.

You lean your head back on the wall behind you, and meet his gaze head on, your voice quiet, but steady, when you reply back, “It wasn’t anything you did.”

Confusion starts to pool into his expression, easing some of the anger, and you feel your own fury start to melt away like sand with the tide, leaving your body tired and heavy.

“Then why?” He questions back, gaze boring into your own.

You sigh, and glance behind him to the still blinking emergency stop button, wondering how much time you have before someone notices the elevator hasn’t moved and calls the fire department to rescue the two of you.

That’s all you need right now. Better hurry this up.

“I said something.” You announce without preamble, shifting your gaze to meet his own once more, sudden fear rising like bile in your throat. You force through the feeling, and swallow hard. “The day you asked me for help during Jeongin’s presentation.” Chan watches you closely, silently, and you give a little shrug and half a laugh-it’s awkward, and fleeting, and leaves the space in between you feeling heavier than before.

“And I wasn’t sure if what I’d said-what I’d admitted-made you feel weird. I was scared I’d messed shit up, and I wanted to give you space to deal, if that was the case.”

Chan cocks his head-the motion is endearing, like a puppy-and you resist the urge to reach up and push some of the curls back off his forehead with your fingers.

Confusion is clear on every inch of his features now.

“What did you-” He starts to ask, and then something clicks behind his expression, his eyes going wide and his jaw going slack. “Oh, you mean the love thing.” “Oh my god.” You groan, covering your face with your hands, already feeling your cheeks heat up. “Do we have to call it that?”

When you peek back through your fingers, Chan is smiling, his lips pulled crookedly to one side, the gold fading slowly from his gaze.

“That’s why you were avoiding me? You were worried about that?”

“Yes!” You shriek,a little bit louder than necessary, and Chan’s grin widens even more. “I mean, that’s a fuck of a thing to announce to someone out of the blue, when they’re already dealing with a ton of shit and I didn’t know how you’d take it.”

Chan tilts his head, regarding you. “But you’ve already told me you love me. Once before. Remember?”

You stare at him like he’s just grown another head, and then it clicks.

“That didn’t count!” You cough out, choking on your own spit, waving your hands wildly as you try to regain your breath. “That was like a post fuck thing, I was feeling sappy, I just threw it out there to everyone in general, you guys had just saved me and given me the best orgasm of my life and it wasn’t-” “True?” Chan finishes for you, though there’s no hurt on his face, only slight amusement.

“No!” You protest, growing angry again as you grow more flustered by the second. “It was true, it just wasn’t so-”

“Direct?” Chan tries once again, watching you closely.

“Yeah.” You finish helplessly, your shoulders slumping.

Chan gives a little laugh, and slides one of his large hands down the elevator wall to grip your chin in his fingers, raising your embarrassed gaze to his once more.

His expression softens, the corners of his mouth settling into an affectionate smile, as you struggle a little and try to resist his gaze.

“Baby. Look at me.”

You finally do as he says, reluctantly meeting his eyes, and he arches a brow at you.

The air between you is heavy with ice and storm, but it doesn’t feel so oppressive now.

In fact, the headache you’ve been battling all week seems to be miraculously gone.

Chan’s lips twitch, and you huff at him a little, folding your arms across your chest at his obvious amusement in your sheepishness.

“Listen. If it hasn’t been incredibly fucking clear since the first time I met you that I’m head over heels for you, then I must not be doing enough to prove it to you.”

Your own lips twitch into the hint of a smile then, and you begrudgingly uncross your arms from your chest.

“No, you’re doing enough. Trust me. Following me around like a little lost puppy when I openly hated your guts for the first couple of weeks definitely sold it.”

Chan laughs, and the sound sends warmth cascading down your body.

Your tired muscles feel a little more manageable now.

Chan leans in, and rests his forehead against yours.

You take a moment to breathe him in, and then he murmurs, breath warm on your face, “Now, say it again, but don’t run away this time.”

You smirk, keeping your eyes closed as you whisper back, “There’s not really anywhere for me to go. You saw to that.”

He chuckles, breath fanning across your skin, but doesn’t move to pull away.

You take in a deep breath, and let your hands skim up the warm length of his arms, letting your fingers take him in for a moment, before you breathe out, “I love you, Christopher Bang. Even though I hated your guts, and fucked up a couple of huge things, and you trapped me in an elevator with you-twice, I might add, against my will-I love you, and I don’t think that’s ever not been true.”

Chan opens his eyes, and you stare into the golden flecks of his irises, before he pulls back, and his lips curve into the start of a smirk.

“Now, was that so hard?”

You swing an arm out and hit him lightly in the chest, giving him a fake glare.

“Say it back.”

He grins, and leans in, caging you with his forearms once more against the cool metal behind your head, his nose brushing your own.

“I fucking love you, (Y/N), I always have. Even when you hated my guts. In fact, in retrospect, I think that made me love you even more.”

You giggle, and Chan covers your mouth with his without warning, swallowing the sound.

You let your hands trace up his back and into his hair, fingers tangling in his curls, as he flicks his tongue between the seam of your lips and into your waiting mouth.

The sharp points of his canines graze and tug at your bottom lip, and you moan, breaking the kiss as you let your head fall back to the wall behind you, breathing heavily, as Chan presses kisses down your jaw, the column of your throat, tickling and teasing your skin as he nibbles your collarbone, traces your scent gland with his tongue.

“They’re gonna send the fire department after us, you know.” You gasp out, gaze flicking beyond him once more to the flashing button on the wall, as he drops to his knees in front of you, fingers finding your hip bones.

Chan looks up at you, lips red and kiss bitten, a grin stretching the pink skin over white teeth.

He arches a brow.

“Lucky for you, baby, they’re not incredibly known for their fast response time, and I’m a fairly quick worker.”

You reach out a hand to stop him as he reaches for the closure of your pants, and when he looks up at you in confusion, your lips lift into a smirk.

“What if I told you I wanted to take my time?”

His lips slowly lift into a wicked grin of his own.

“I think we can make that happen.”

********

Your apartment is closer than Chan’s (by one floor, but hey, a floor is a floor), so after apologizing to some severely annoyed alphas who were waiting on the stalled elevator, you push through your front door and Chan doesn’t wait a second before he pounces.

He backs you against the wall of the hallway, his hands dropping to your waist once more, his mouth already on yours.

His tongue swipes around the inside of your mouth, and you groan into him. “About that taking our time thing-”

Chan chuckles huskily, the sound going right to your core, and if you weren’t already incredibly wet before, you sure as hell are now.

There’s a quiet sound behind the two of you and you freeze, leaning up to glance over Chan’s shoulder, suddenly on full alert.

“Jeongin?”

Chan follows your gaze, your mouth open in shock, to the omega standing beside the front door, waving sheepishly to the two of you, his cheeks almost as red as his hair.

“Hey, noona.”

You slip out beneath Chan’s arm and approach him, surprise clearly etched across your face.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was waiting for you.” Jeongin gives a little shrug, but he won’t meet your eyes, embarrassment clear on his pretty features. “You said later earlier and I thought-”

Oh. Fuck.

You let out a sigh, suddenly feeling more than a little remorseful. “Sorry, Innie. I was hanging out at Minho’s and then Chan was there-”

Jeongin glances down, scuffing his shoe into the worn carpet. “No, it’s fine, noona. I was just gonna sneak out when I heard the two of you, but I should’ve known I had no chance when up against a wolf’s hearing.”

His hand reaches for the doorknob, and without thinking, you reach out and stop him.

“Wait-” You swallow, his large, dark eyes flicking to you in surprise. “I mean. You can join us? If you want?”

Jeongin stares at you, his pupils huge.

“What?” Chan approaches, his hand going on your shoulder as he addresses Jeongin. “Yeah, Innie. It’s up to you, but we don’t mind-”

You notice the way Chan reaches up to rub his neck as he speaks, as if he’s just as nervous over this as Jeongin is.

“Don’t feel any pressure.” You hurry to reassure the omega standing in front of you. “I know you don’t have much experience, and one alpha on a good day is a lot, so if this is too overwhelming-”

Jeongin bites his lip and glances between the two of you. Finally, he says hesitantly, voice barely above a whisper, “I think I’d like that. But-” He takes in a nervous breath. “Can I just watch for a little bit first? Would that be okay?”

You smirk. “Oh, so you’re one of those?”

Jeongin instantly flushes, and you rush to reassure him you were only teasing, looping an arm around his shoulders as you lead him back toward your room, Chan following on your heels.

“I’m just kidding, baby. There’s nothing wrong with a little voyeurism. Minho loves to watch.”

“He also loves to boss.” Chan says with a slight smirk, as he steps ahead of you and pushes open the closed door, allowing you both to pass first into the room.

“That he does.” You laugh a little, and then turn to Jeongin. “Okay, pup. Pick your poison.”

Jeongin glances around, clearly still a little shy given the circumstances, and then he settles into the desk chair in the corner of your room, opposite the bed. He pulls his knees up to his chest and nods. “Okay. Just pretend I’m not here.”

Chan has come to stand against your back, tickling his fingers up and down your spine, brushing his nose across the juncture of your throat, and at Jeongin’s words, he groans, and you feel him press into you from behind. He’s still clearly worked up from before, the momentary pause hasn’t even phased him.

“That’s gonna be pretty hard to do when you smell so fucking good, pup.”

Jeongin looks wide eyed at Chan’s throaty admission, and leans over to not so subtly sniff his own shirt. “I don’t smell anything crazy.”

Chan growls in his throat, and you smirk, reaching back to palm him through his jeans. He bucks his hips up into your hand, his fingers digging into your shoulders.

“That’s because you’re used to how you smell, but you’re kinda blooming, Innie. It means your omega has sensed the presence of alphas-pack alphas-and is desperately trying to get our attention.”

“Oh.” Jeongin murmurs, looking suddenly small. “I’m sorry, I can leave-” He makes a move to get up.

“Sit down.” You command, and his pupils dilate at the sound of your timber, but he does as he’s told. You soften your tone a little. “You’re fine, Innie. You’re not going to distract from anything. If anything, your scent is going to make this all the more enjoyable.”

Chan’s teeth graze over your scent gland, and you glance back at him, arching your brow. “Eager, are we?”

Chan growls again, the sound a low rumble against your back, and snakes his hand around your waist, letting his fingers find the inside of your thighs. He applies pressure with the palm of his hand, and you arch your back in response, letting out a quick hitch of breath.

“Very.” He replies, licking a stripe up the side of your neck with his tongue, tasting you.

You turn to face him, your eyes flashing gold to match his own, but before you fully lose yourself in him, you glance once more at the omega over your shoulder, saying in a soft, serious tone, “Innie, if you want us to stop at any point, say something, and we will. Without hesitation.”

He nods. “Yes, noona.” His eyes are wide, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he watches Chan pull you toward the bed.

“Sit down.” Chan orders you, much like you had commanded Jeongin earlier, and you do so, but not without a slight smirk in his direction.

“I’m not going to make this easy.” You warn, settling onto the edge of the bed, your expression wicked.

Chan knocks apart your knees and stands between your legs, a look of annoyance on his features. One hand tangles into your hair and he yanks your head back, forcing you to look at him, as the other hand comes to loosely wrap around the front of your throat.

You feel your pulse quicken under his hold.

“Don’t play that game, pet. Not right now. You already made me wait far too fucking long already.” Chan lifts his lips into the hint of a snarl, and the flash of his sharp canines has your inner thighs slick with want.

He slides his hand slowly up the column of your throat, finally letting his fingers find purchase beneath your chin, tilting your head back even further.

“But you know that already, don’t you?” He murmurs, staring down at you with something akin to a hungry predator in his dark gaze.

You swallow beneath the hold he has on your throat, and arch a brow pettily in response. “Care to remind me?”

Chan’s lips curl, and another animalistic growl slips through the barrier of his teeth.

You hear Jeongin let out a sharp exhale from the corner, but you don’t look over.

Your entire body is electrified, waiting for Chan’s next move.

“I could remind you who you belong to-” Chan muses, eyes flashing golden as he stares at you. “-but I don’t think that’s necessary, do you?”

He leans down, and without warning, slips a hand down underneath the band of your pants.

His fingers immediately touch your heat, and just by the look of satisfaction that flickers across his features, you can tell he feels just how wet you are already.

He pulls back, and holds up his slick, glistening fingers for you to see with a cock of his head.

“I think you already know.” He repeats in a low tone, advancing toward you now, backing you onto the bed, until he’s straddling you, leaning over your prone form. “Don’t you?”

“Yes.” You breathe out, tired of playing already, tired of staying away from him.

“Yes what?” He prods, lips curling up into the hint of a dangerous smirk, as he moves to strip you of your clothes.

“Yes, daddy.”

Chan freezes, his pupils blowing at the nickname, and a muscle in his jaw ticks, as if he’s silently fighting himself for control, his hands curling into fists beside you on the bed.

You openly smirk up at him. “Oh, I knew you’d like that one. You know, given your certain proclivities.”

His irises are completely drowning in gold now, his lips parted slightly as he stares down at you, his breath coming in harsh pants, his chest heaving.

Still smirking, you roll your head to the side and find Jeongin in your line of sight, arching a brow in the omega’s direction.

“Did you catch that, Innie? When he was fucking you through your presentation?” Your voice is smooth like butter, dripping with taunting. You’re playing with the alpha on top of you now, and you all know it.

Jeongin stares at you, his stare moving slowly to Chan and then back again. “Catch what, noona?” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been holding his breath.

You shift so you’re staring back up at Chan, looming over you, and your lips tick upward into a dangerous expression meant to goad.

“Our Channie here has a little obsession-a fantasy, if you will-with breeding. He probably went easy on you the first time he knotted you, because you’re inexperienced, but he just loves to fill you up when he fucks you, loves the idea of stretching you with his seed and then his pups, hm, Channie?”

A low growl rolls from Chan’s chest, and you hear Jeongin’s breath catch.

The smell of cinnamon is overpowering.

Chan pins your hands above your head in one smooth, quick motion, and leans over to bite down-hard-on your scent gland in the curvature of your shoulder.

Not hard enough to mark or draw blood, but damn near close.

Your body goes limp beneath him, your mind going blank, your jaw slack, and suddenly, any of the teasing from before is long gone, and the only thought is-alpha, alpha, alpha.

He pulls back, licking his lips with a wicked smirk, and fuck it, he knows he’s won already.

“I should punish you for teasing me, pet, but lucky for you, I’m far to eager to feel you squeezing every last drop out of me to make myself wait any longer.”

And without warning, he leans over and sinks his teeth into your muscle once again, sheathing himself fully inside of you in the same frantic motion.

You cry out, the sensations hitting you all at once, and arch your body up into his hold.

He hadn’t prepped you, but honestly, you were wet enough that he slid in without much resistance, and the friction was honestly close to pushing you over the edge already.

Chan growls, the sound sending goosebumps over your skin, muffled by his hold on your shoulder, and thrusts wildly a few times, like an animal gone mad with desire.

You let him, your fingers scrabbling at his skin, and letting your head roll to the side to give him more access to your neck, you catch sight of Jeongin, watching the two of you with something clearly hot, but tentative, on his features.

Reaching a hand out, you splay it across Chan’s bare chest, stopping his movements, and he releases his teeth’s hold on you, as you say quietly to get his attention, “Chan.”

He’s panting, but he stills, and the feeling of him filling you without moving is enough to drive you crazy, but you keep your focus on Jeongin as you hold out your free hand.

“Done watching, Innie? Wanna join in?”

The omega swallows, you see the way his throat bobs, and then he stands, looking suddenly nervous, but you can tell he’s intrigued and more than a little hot and bothered at this point if the tent in his pants is any indication.

He approaches the bed, and swallows again.

“You don’t have to.” You say softly, taking his hand in yours and rubbing his fingers. “I know this can be overwhelming, but if you want to-”

He nods, glancing down at you, his eyes trailing down the length of Chan’s body atop yours, before he meets your gaze once more with a look of determination.

“No, I want to.”

“Good boy.” You praise, before you tug him forward and onto the bed beside you and Chan. You jerk your head at his clothes. “Take those off.”

He does so quickly, and then sits back down beside the two of you once more, looking unsure. “Now what?”

You give him an encouraging smile. “Now, you’re gonna kneel above me and slide yourself into my mouth.” You open your lips and lean your head back to show him, careful not to jostle Chan.

Jeongin’s eyes go wide. “What? But what if I hurt you-?”

A raspy chuckle leaves Chan’s lips, and he gives the omega a soft look. “You’re not gonna hurt her, pup. I promise.”

“You’re not.” You reiterate, as Jeongin finally takes a breath and moves to kneel above your head. You glance up at him, as you wrap your hands around the back of his thighs. “And besides, now is as good a time as any to talk about safe words and safety gestures. I won’t be able to talk, obviously, but if I need you to stop at any time, I’ll tap you twice, like this, okay?”

I tap the back of his thigh with two fingers hard, twice.

Jeongin nods, staring down at my head between his knees. “Okay.”

“Okay.” You repeat back, parting your lips once more. “Whenever you’re ready.” Jeongin hesitates briefly, glancing to Chan, who gives him a little nod, and then he leans forward and places the tip of himself into your mouth.

You adjust slightly to allow easier access as he slowly slides between your lips.

You see the way his body tenses as he feels your tongue on him, but he still gives you a worried sort of glance. “Okay?”

You nod slightly, and hum a sound of affirmation, before you let yourself suck, creating suction with your tongue.

Jeongin instantly groans, his head falling back and his hands scrabbling to tangle in your hair.

Chan takes that as his cue to move again as well, and he resumes his thrusting from before, his hips moving more rhythmically now.

You feel Jeongin hit the back of your throat, and oh god, he tastes just like he smells, and fuck, with Chan moving like that-

You can feel the muscles in your body tensing, readying for release, as you keep working Jeongin with your mouth and Chan shunts your body over and over with his.

“Fuck, noona, I-” Jeongin starts to say, and then he’s shuddering, and you feel him release, tasting the sweetness on your tongue.

“Fuck.” Chan swears, watching Jeongin come for you, and then he leans forward, his sweaty skin sticking to yours as he rests his forehead on your chest, fingers digging into your wrists, and roars through his own release.

Everything whites out for a moment as your own body uncoils, and you have to remind yourself to breathe, as Jeongin slowly pulls himself from your mouth and Chan lies on top of you, catching his breath.

“Fuck.” Jeongin repeats, staring down at you, his eyes full of awe. “Fuck.”

You give a weak little laugh and reach out to brush Chan’s sweaty hair back from his forehead. He glances up at you, his chin on your chest, and releases his hold on your wrists, one of his hands moving to your jaw and pinching your mouth open so he can look inside.

A small smirk quirks the corner of his mouth as he says hoarsely, “A shame to waste all that perfectly good come on your mouth, baby.” You grin down at him, wincing slightly as he pulls himself out of you with a long, low groan.

He flops down beside you on the bed, covering his face with his arm as his chest still heaves.

On your other side, Jeongin collapses down as well, his hand finding yours, even though his eyes are closed.

After a few moments of silence, Chan pushes himself up with effort, and scoots to the edge of the bed. He waves a finger between you and Jeongin’s prone forms.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

You give a sound of assent, but don’t open your eyes.

Soon though, you hear the sound of his footsteps padding back, and he nudges you with his hand.

“Drink this, baby.” You crack open your eyes, and take the bottle of water he offers you, passing the other one to Jeongin, who guzzles it down immediately.

Chan slides back onto the bed between your legs, and begins to wipe down the sticky skin of the inside of your thighs with the warm rag, cleaning up all the residual juices that were left behind.

You relax into his gentle motions, and when he’s finished, he turns to Jeongin, arching a brow at the younger boy.

“Can I?” He asks, and Jeongin hesitates, before he nods slightly, spreading his legs for Chan to clean him up as well.

You watch them-how gentle Chan is, how trusting Jeongin is-and you feel warm from head to toe.

Warm and content.

When he’s finished with Jeongin, you finally sit up and reach for the rag, motioning for Chan to lay back on the bed.

“Okay, now you.”

He opens his mouth, as if to protest, but Jeongin pushes him down gently with a hand to his chest and a small smile.

“C’mon, hyung. It’s only fair.”

Chan rolls his eyes, but lets you wash him over with the warm rag anyway, and you can tell, by the slight hint of pink on his cheeks, that he enjoys the tender touches just as much as you do.

When everyone is cleaned up, you motion for Jeongin to snuggle down between the two of you, your arm looped comfortably across him, your fingers making nonsensical patterns on the warm, bare skin of Chan’s chest.

Leaning over to press a kiss to the tip of Jeongin’s nose, you say softly, “I love you.” Jeongin glances up at you with large eyes, and his lips curve into a smile.

“I love you too, noona. And you, hyung.”

You grin and press another kiss to the top of his soft, red hair, before he glance across to Chan, who is watching you affectionately, a small smile on his lips.

He arches a brow at you and whispers over the top of Jeongin’s head, “I’m proud of you. You’re getting better.”

You grin back at him, and reach up with your free hand to cup his jaw, before you squish Jeongin between you as you lean forward to press a kiss to his lips.

“I love you, Bang Chan.”

He tugs you forward for another kiss, and Jeongin whines slightly at being squished.

“I love you too.” ********************************

“So, I’m guessing the two of you made up?” Changbin remarks offhandedly, leaning against the desk as he eyes you with an arch of his brow and a smirk on his lips.

You give a little shrug, sifting through Chan’s papers to find the one you’re looking for. “I guess. How can you tell?” You stop, glancing back at him with a narrowing of your eyes.

Changbin grins, his eyes dropping pointedly to the large black hoodie you wear. “That’s his favorite hoodie.”

You hold out the heavy fabric so you can see the Nirvana logo printed across the front of it, staring at it skeptically. “Really? This old thing? I just stole this the last time we went over to his dorm after hide and seek.”

Changbin laughs and shakes his head, leaning around you now to pluck up a piece of paper and present it to you.

It’s the one you’ve been looking for.

You snatch it from him with a teasing glare.

“Really.” He nods, tugging at the hood of the hoodie teasingly. “This fucking thing is his favorite fucking thing on the whole planet, so the fact that he let you take it and wear it-” He shakes his head in slight disbelief, and smirks down at you. “-well maybe that just means that he has a new favorite fucking thing on the whole planet.”

You grin at that.

“I kind of like the sound of that.” Changbin grins back and tackles you onto the futon in the corner of the studio, tickling you as you shriek and struggle to get away from him.

“I knew you would.”

449 notes · View notes

0097linersb · 5 days

Text

No Control (m)

ONE SHOT

Pairings: Wooyoung x Reader

Genre: Smut ( pwp)

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Exhibitionism with a non-participating person, beware.

Follow me on twitter for updates, previews, spoilers: wooyosgfreal <3

“Isn´t it a bit too cold in here?” You asked the boy next to you after ignoring the shivers running up your arms for the past 15 minutes for the sake of not moving.

“Don´t think so,” Wooyoung shrugged, not even looking up from his phone which he had been lazily staring at for the past few hours.

You rolled your eyes and decided to look around for the air conditioner´s control yourself, to at least get the air blowing in a different direction instead of right on top of you. After fumbling around the pillows with no success, your frustrated eyes met what you were looking for: across the room, on the table, inches away from San´s busy hand, there it was, the solution to all your problems in all its shining white glory.

“San,” You tried calling but the man did nothing indicating that he had heard you. You tried again, louder this time, “Choi San!”

“He won´t hear you. Noise-canceling headphones,” Wooyoung informed and got a groan in response. “You can always stand up and get it, you know.”

“No,” You groaned, with a pout on your face.

Your friend rolled his eyes and reached his right hand under the bed, you heard the sound of a drawer being opened and suddenly a heavy blanket was being thrown on top of you, “Here, princess.”

You happily unfolded the fabric, tucking yourself under it and humming in content.

“Leave some for me,” He scolded you, grabbing the corner of the heavy blanket and pulling it towards himself.

“You just said you weren´t cold!”

“I was lying ´cause I didn´t wanna move, just shut up and let me watch my TikToks.”

You rolled your eyes for the tenth time that day. Teenage movies and fanfictions have lied to you that being friends with men was all flowers and rainbows, that they would protect you and do anything for you like you were a helpless beautiful little princess. The only things you´ve ever gotten from San and Wooyoung were purple bruises and poorly mixed drinks. Well, they did fix your computer every time something stopped working but that was only because they needed you to play to complete the squad and you were way better than Yeosang.

After 20 more minutes of doing nothing, a loud groan filled the room – Coming from you. Wooyoung jumped in the bed next to you and San as expected, didn´t hear it.

“What the hell was that?”

“My phone died,” You whined, burying your head deep in the pillow to express your frustration.

“Just charge it?”

“My charger is in my bag in the kitchen.”

“Then just take a nap.”

“Nooooo, entertain me.”

“Do I look like a clown to you?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Ok, I just set myself up for that one.”

“You absolutely did. Hand me the remote,” You extended your hand waiting for said device.

Wooyoung´s free hand fumbled around the bed for a minute before exclaiming in success, placing the TV´s remote on your palm before going back to his phone. You turned on the TV and put on one of the shows you were currently watching, volume not too loud so it wouldn´t interfere with the audio on San´s Discord call since the TV was right next to his chair.

You quickly got distracted by the show, even with Wooyoung´s videos playing loudly right next to your ear and San´s occasional screams at Yunho and Mingi through his microphone. It did help that you had absolutely nothing else to do and there was an incredibly attractive man on the screen in front of you.

Every once in a while, Wooyoung would show you a stupid video he was laughing at and San got up one time to go to the bathroom, but besides that, everything remained the same for the next hour or so. That´s it until you felt Wooyoung´s hand wrapping around your thigh.

Your friend was a touchy person so it didn´t immediately register as something out of the ordinary to you necessarily - although normally when he touched your legs, it was usually never too far up from your knees and not right in the middle of your thigh like at the moment, but you excused that because his hands and your body were under the covers so he couldn´t really see what he was doing.

Even when his thumb started to draw soft circles against your skin, you didn´t think much of it.

Your body did go into alert when he started to move the tips of his fingers up and down your thigh, though. You looked over at him, lying in bed next to you but his eyes were glued to his phone like nothing was happening – which made you think maybe nothing was and you were just overthinking.

Jung Wooyoung, your friend of almost 3 years.

Yeah, your friend.

His fingers continued to trace your skin innocently enough and you enjoyed the display of affection for a while, goose bumps naturally erupting down your body from the touch, even internally laughing at yourself for having your mind in the gutter.

In 2 years of friendship, Wooyoung never tried anything with you or gave any signs that he would be anywhere near interested, quite the opposite actually - You literally saw the man not taking a shower for over 3 days once during summer break. Also, San was right there in the room. You didn´t know where those crazy thoughts of yours were coming from.

But oh well, turns out you should trust your instincts more.

After a few minutes of mindless petting, Wooyoung apparently had banged his head on the floor earlier, because his fingers started suddenly traveling to your inner thighs and every time his touches went up your knee, they inched down deeper between your bent legs when coming back down. You were too in shock to do anything immediately, eyes wide as you looked at the man once again, who was still laughing at a video on TikTok.

He was so good at pretending he was doing nothing, you almost considered you were hallucinating.

That´s it until his fingers inched so deep down your legs, the tip of his fingers touched the bottom of your shorts, a breath away from actually touching your chore. Your body jumped in surprise, eyes finding the same scene as before when you tried looking next to you.

What surprised you the most though, was the way your walls sort of clenched around nothing at the touch.

Fuck.

While you were trying to process what was going on, he continued his ministrations, his fingers tracing softly the inside of your thighs up and down, ghost touches that had you holding back a squirm with all you had.

Eventually, what you figured was his middle finger, traced over your slit on top of your shorts and you couldn´t hold back the little spasm in reaction. That´s when you decided to stop that madness, looking at Wooyoung, who this time was already giving you a sheepish smile.

“What do you think you´re doing?” You whispered like San could hear it.

“Didn´t you ask me to entertain you?”

“Yeah, with like a gossip, not with whatever this is,” You exasperated, his finger pressing down right on your clit over your clothes, and you had to bite onto the inside of your cheek to hold back any reactions.

“And what exactly do you think this is?” He raised an eyebrow, his conniving smile still plastered across his face.

“One of your stupid little games.”

“Oh really?” Wooyoung asked, his hand trailing up to your abdomen where he played with the waistband of your shorts. “´Cause I kind of just wanted my fingers inside you.”

It was sad the way you felt yourself pulsing between your legs at his words.

“Shut the fuck up,” Your brain was short-circuiting, and his fingers were inching down, now toying with the elastic band of your panties.

“You´re the one asking questions.”

“You´re the one with their hand down my shorts.”

“Was bored,” He stated with a shrug, looking up at you as his middle finger found their way inside your panties and dipping it down your slit, “And apparently someone was enjoying it.”

He pressed a finger slowly inside of you just to prove his point, smirk growing bigger at the way it slid in with so much ease. All the thoughts of it being just him trying to prank you flew right out of the window.

“San is literally right there,” You breathed, heart almost coming out of your mouth.

“It´s not like he would see anything,” Wooyoung argued.

“Wooyoung,” You warned once he started pumping his finger deeper, you could feel the way he curled them because of how slow he was going. He was just teasing you and it was already driving you insane.

“I will stop if you want me to, if not just shut up and go back to watching your movie.”

He gave you no time to answer, looking once again at his phone, waiting for your verdict. You were sitting down, your knees were bent close to your chest, forming a tent around your legs, which meant no movements could be seen from Wooyoung´s hand in between there. He was half lying down half sitting up, his shoulders supported by two thick pillows and one of his hands was out from under the covers to hold his phone. The position didn´t seem suspicious at all and he never once stopped slowly pumping his middle finger inside you while you were having your little mental debate, and exactly because of that, your rational line of thought was getting further and further away by the second.

You could deal with the consequences later, or Wooyoung could since he´s the one who started this mess out of literal nowhere.

With no words you looked back towards the TV, noticing the smirk opening up once again on Wooyoung´s face from the corner of your eyes. His Tiktoks started playing loudly once again and he used his now more than coated middle finger to draw circles on your clit, your whole-body shuddering at the first contact.

You wanted to keep an eye out for San, to stop everything if he happened to turn around, but it was physically impossible to keep your eyes open with the way Wooyoung knew how to use his stupid fucking finger. Your breath was already so shaky and you had to harshly bite down onto your lip to stop any sounds from coming out.

Wooyoung was not even in a rush, his movements languid like he was just having his fun and had all the time in the world, which was honestly annoying because 1. you were already close and it was humiliating and 2. you couldn´t whine about it.

You sensed he somehow knew you were close to the edge because he soon stopped circling your clit to now let two fingers inside of you, carefully looking for your sensitive spot – which he found abnormally fast considering most times you couldn´t even find it yourself.

“If you keep trying to be quiet I´ll stop,” He warned, browsing through Tiktok like he wasn´t literally about to make you cum under the covers, not even batting an eye in your direction.

You took a nervous look in San´s direction to check if he didn´t listen to Wooyoung´s words, but his fingers were still angrily pressing his keyboard. You could even listen to Yunho raging on his headphones.

“He´s not going to listen, look” He rolled his eyes before raising his voice: “Hey San, you need to turn around and see how pretty Y/N looks with my fingers so deep inside of her-”

“Wooyoung,” You slapped his shoulder in shock, eyes wide as you looked once again in San´s direction from any signs he had heart Wooyoung´s almost yell. He didn´t seem to have.

“Oh,” Wooyoung smirked at you. “Interesting.”

“What?”

“Hey San, you wouldn´t believe this. Guess who´s clenching around my fingers every time I mention that you´re in the room with us.”

Wooyoung let out a genuinely amused laugh and you would punch him if he wasn´t right, you didn't know why and it was an unconscious reaction, but a shiver went up your body when Wooyoung teasingly called San and a whine literally slipped out the second time he did it. Maybe you had an exhibitionist part of you that was never uncovered before.

“So you like that San´s here, huh?” Wooyoung teased, “Kinky.”

You were doing your very best to keep any noises inside but the closer you got, the harder it became. Wooyoung seemed to appreciate it because he would speed up slightly after each sound you let slip from your mouth, which meant you were about to lose this battle very soon.

“I wonder, do you want us to get caught or the thrill is just in the fact that he´s here unaware of the mess you are from just my fingers?”

“Wooyoung, I´m close,” You breathed out.

Why oh why did you have to open your godamn mouth? The second you finished the warning, Wooyoung completely stopped what he was doing, fingers going still inside of you.

“Now that´s no fun, is it? I´m enjoying this with you so much.”

“Wooyoung for fuck´s sake-”

“Do you guys want to order something to eat?” San´s voice suddenly surprised you, making you almost jump out the bed as you now watched him taking his headphones off. “I´m getting kind of hungry.”

Your breathing was even more erratic from the scare, but San was just innocently staring at the two of you, completely clueless to the way Wooyoung´s fingers were still inside of you and your walls were spasming so much around them you could almost cum with no stimulation.

“Yeah, me too,” Wooyoung agreed, his eyes once again so naturally glued to his phone.

“Do you want me to order it or will you do it?” San asked.

Fucking Jung Wooyoung decided that was the perfect time to start moving his fingers once again instead of taking them out like any normal person would once their best friend was literally looking at the two of you.

You were already so sensitive from being edged before, you had to dig your nails deep into the fabric of the covers to not moan out loud.

“I can order,” Wooyoung answered and his voice didn´t even shake. “What do you feel like eating?”

“See if any of the restaurants we like are opened,” San suggested.

This can´t be really happening.

You saw Wooyoung opening the food delivery app, scrolling down the options with one hand while the other pumped into you teasingly.

“There´s that italian place on sunset, the shawarma one, Mc Donald´s, the chinese one we had with Seonghwa, pizza, mexican -”

You stopped listening halfway through the list when the man next to you started to once again circle your clit. You wanted to physically stop Wooyoung´s hand but there was no way of putting your hands under the covers to hold his pulse without making what was going on completely obvious to San.

“What do you think, Y/N?” San directed his attention to you.

“Whatever is fine,” Your voice was really shaky and you couldn´t even look at San´s face for any reactions because not only were you too embarrassed, it was also taking every single fiber of your body to not moan out loud.

You were so fucking close but you were not about to cum with San watching.

Would it be too obvious if you elbowed Wooyoung super hard?

“You can´t say that because every time we order something that isn´t exactly what you feel like eating you whine the whole night,” San lectured you.

“Pi- Pizza then.”

Could San see you were shaking?

“Nice, what toppings?”

You were so so close, you were in fact about to cum in front of your friends no matter how much you didn´t want to. Wooyoung has been teasing and edging you all night but the one time you truly wanted him to stop, he was giving no signs that he would save you.

“I feel like pepperoni,” Wooyoung offered.

“Hm, I kind of wanted cheese.”

“Oh my god, just literally order whatever,” You groaned, or maybe moaned, you don´t even know anymore.

Just please turn the fuck around.

“Damn, -”

“Sannie, could you do me a huge favor first? Can you bring me antacid? My stomach is killing me,” Wooyoung frowned in fake pain.

He was not even a little bit ashamed.

“Sure man, be right back.”

The second San was out of the room, Wooyoung threw the blanket to the side and practically jumped in between your legs, moving so fast you barely processed it until he was laying down with his head between your thighs.

“You gotta be fast love,” He smirked up at you.

“Oh, that won´t be a problem- Oh fuck.”

You had not even finished the sentence and Wooyoung had already grabbed the bottom of your shorts and panties and pulled it to the side, his mouth immediately meeting your clit – and your thighs his ears consequently.

Wooyoung´s free hand snaked between you two and he pushed two fingers inside of you while his tongue worked circles on your clit, you could even feel his soft plumpy lips against your skin and it was driving you insane enough to bite onto the back of your hand so you wouldn´t moan loudly.

While before he was teasing you and moving slowly, now he was eating you out like a man starved and it took about less than a minute to get you shaking under him and grabbing his hair.

Wooyoung looked up at you clearly pleased with himself, face looking like a mess as he placed your clothes back in place. You barely saw as he rolled back to his previous place and used the hem of his shirt to clean his chin, your brain was way too dead to think about anything at the moment other than catching your breath.

“Dude, you´re so lucky. It was literally the last o- Oh,” It was comical the way San suddenly stopped, frozen in place. You followed his eyesight to nothing other than Wooyoung´s sweatpants, where a very apparent hard-on - that he either didn´t get the time to hide or just didn´t care - stood tall. “Bro, have some fucking manners, there´s a lady present.”

You choked around air and held back your laughter.

“You´re right. I´m sorry for tainting your innocence with this sight, Y/N. I´ll be in the bathroom for around 10 to 15 minutes correcting my mistake.”

And with that, Wooyoung climbed on top of you to get out of the bed and leave the room. San took upon him to give you one last apology and explain some biology to you.

“Sometimes boners are involuntary, we can´t control it.”

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fics #ateez fic #san fic #wooyoung #mingi #yunho #seonghwa #wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fics

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jeongheart · 1 year

Text

03:45 am

summary: late night snack run with chan.

w.c: 1.2k

tags: established relationship, fluff.

a.n: chan in the newest code ruined my brain, he's just so boyfriend coded.

as always, english is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes. leave your thoughts if you like, it means a lot.

You've tossed and turned more times than you can count in the last half hour, the clock impassively marking 03:45 am with its big red numbers. You sigh tired and put the device back on the nightstand to turn around once more; the bed was warm on your side because you been lying in the same spot for hours. You touched Chan's side, it was frozen and with the sheets in place.

With a slight groan due to the sudden movement of your muscles you got out of bed, you didn't bother to wrap yourself up and you dragged your feet across the room towards the living room, you knew exactly where your partner was at this time and, after drinking water, you went in search of him.

The study door was locked, so as not to disturb and not be disturbed. The house was completely silent, except for the faint sound of keys being pressed and papers falling to the floor from time to time.

You gently knocked the door to announce your presence, and a few seconds later, you made yourself present in the room. Chan was hunched in front of the computer, his nose was so close to the monitor that for a second you feared that the fluorescent colors would end up engulfing him, taking him to a world of musical tracks to be arranged.

Around him was all kinds of garbage, except for food wrappers, you could imagine that it had been a long time since he eaten anything and you shook your head as you approached his figure. He always had that bad habit, nothing else existed when he worked; no matter how many times you told him it seemed like your words went in one ear and out the other.

When you were almost two centimeters away, you realized that he had his headphones at full volume, an unreleased song was playing loudly and surrounding everything around him, that's why he hadn't heard the door before and hadn't greeted you when you walked in. Between the darkness of the room, the loud music and his concentration he almost seemed to be absent.

Not wanting to scare him, you put your hand on his shoulder, he didn't flinch from your touch until you put a little more force in your grip. Finally returning to the real world, he took off his headphones to leave them on the table in front of him and looked you straight in the eye.

His eyes were a little red after so many hours of watching screens, and his expression danced between confusion and exhaustion.

"What are you doing?" He asks you in a whisper.

Taking your hand off his shoulder, you moved it up to his face, caressing his cheek gently. Chan unconsciously relaxed and placed all the weight of his body on your hand, still looking at you.

"I couldn't sleep" You answer simply.

Chan laughed softly, a clear sign of his exhaustion, and with his right hand he took yours (which you weren't using to caress his face) and guided you to his lap, you let out a little cry of surprise at the sudden change of position but you let him accommodate you to his liking.

When you were comfortably seated, Chan hugged your waist with both arms and rested his head on the space between your neck and your shoulder, where upon feeling the smell of your shampoo and your perfume he sighed happily and finally closed his eyes. You kept busy those seconds playing with his hands that were still tightly gripping the lower part of your body.

You could feel his breath against your neck, he was freezing and you still had the heat of the sheets on you.

"Let's go out for a little bit" You told him when you felt his breathing become heavier. Chan let out something similar to a growl, you didn't know if he heard you or had already fallen asleep.

"It's late" You almost couldn't understand what he said, his lips were so close to your skin that the sound was almost lost.

You moved your head a little to make him pay attention to you, your heart sank a little when you saw how a small hint of sadness crossed Chan's expression for taking him out of his comfortable position against you. "I'm hungry and you need to stretch your legs, besides, how long has it been since you've eaten something?"

Chan looked away at the question, and there you got your answer. "I have to finish, love" He made a gesture to lift you from his lap and return the chair to its place in front of the computer to resume his work.

"Ten minutes, a bit of fresh air will do you good" You grabbed his face with both hands so he couldn't look away or question you, you were like this for few seconds; just staring into each other's eyes. You could feel how Chan's face was starting to heat up from the closeness and, letting out a nervous giggle, he nodded his head.

You laughed and kissed him on the tip of the nose "Don't forget to bundle up".

The walk to the convenience store was relatively short, Chan was telling you details about the work he been doing so far and how proud he was of how everything was turning out. You listened attentively, excited by his happiness and without letting go of his hand in the ten blocks it took to get to the store.

The automatic door greeted you with its characteristic sound, as did the worker behind the counter who offered you a warm smile despite the late hour and the cold January air that swept in with you. "What do you want to eat?" Chan began to drag you through the corridors of the place in search of whatever and anything to fill his stomach.

You followed him closely as he went through each shelf with the initiative of a small child, showing you package after package full of colors no matter what it was (salty, sweet, bittersweet), unable to decide what to finally buy. You laughed when you saw that he placed each package that caught his attention in the cart you were pushing, his work and the deadlines already forgotten by the promise of eating delicious things.

After a few more minutes of indecision, you finally made it to the checkout to pay for the items. The cashier laughed seeing the various items you carried (from spicy noodles to coconut ice cream to cheese sticks). Chan ended up paying for the purchases even though you insisted that you could separate the bill, he simply ignored your speech and took the three bags full of food while you followed him out of the store, reproaching him for his actions.

"I'm not listening, I'm made of wood, I have fish ears~" Your partner crooned as he began the walk back to the apartment, you rolled your eyes and decided that it was a hopeless case so you had to accept your defeat.

"Next time I'll pay" You told him as you took one of the bags he was carrying to take his hand instead, you didn't know what time it was but you didn't care at that moment. Chan was laughing out loud (so much that you were afraid that he would wake up the people who were sleeping in the houses on the side of the road) and he looked more relaxed; a fond smile appeared on your face and you squeezed your partner's hand tightly.

"Thank you for getting me out of the house, and from my own head, love. You were right, I needed it" Chan stopped walking to press you against his body and envelop you in a warm hug, you breathed in his aroma and let his presence envelop you completely.

#stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz soft thoughts #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #bri writes

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 days

Note

Hii not sure if your requests are open or not- so ignore this if they’re closed! <3

Can I request some Obey Me! Headcanons?

So reader is the 8th sister of the brothers. So she’s the youngest.

Just some general headcanons of her relationships w the brothers

( And some of the side characters if it’s not too much trouble :>)

Thanks <33

I've already done something like that but I love the concept so I'm just going to build that 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Youngest Sibling Reader Headcannons | Yandere Obey Me

Lucifer

Before I said he was the worst one and I mean it

He’s an amalgamation of someone who understands you but undermines you at every moment

Because he understands, he does listen

He just doesn’t hold your opinions on the same level as his own

But worse

Of course his brother’s constant chatter about aimless things isn’t on his level

But every now and then he’ll enjoy hanging out with them

But not you

Never you

“Ah so you do pay attention to the political atmosphere. Good job.”

“I don’t expect you to know but I’ll tell you anyways.”

It’s degrading

It’s disrespectful

And he does not care

You can cry and yell all you like

it’ll just sound like a tantrum to him

So he’ll treat like one

“If you can’t behave, I’ll have to send you to the attic.”

Leviathan

As previously stated is apart of the group that just misinterprets everything you say

It’s hard to say if it’s delusion or denial

Because sometimes he’ll slip up

You’ll catch him crying or a single mumble in his late night rambles

“Aw my baby is so grown up…I just can’t believe it anymore.”

If you try to address it he’ll pat your head and ruffle your hair (if you have any)

Before telling you it’s nothing for the baby to worry about anyway

It’s incredibly annoying

When he writes off your achievements in gaming as button mashing

Or saying your just a genius so you’d get on his level eventually

Any protests or ‘grown-up’ conversations are often just outright ignore

Now doing things outside of the ‘baby’ image he has of you mostly has him ignoring that too

Unless you come back hurt or specifically crying for his help

He will actually start flooding places and going into an absolute rampage

He won’t listen to you about calming down

Its going to take all the brothers to de-aggro their brother to save everyone from drowning

“Sorry guys I just want to make sure our baby sib is doing okay!”

Asmodeus

Also a part of that ‘doesn’t listen to you’ crew

Accept while he might actually here you his brain literally just never let’s him hear your real voice

“Can you please stop trying to rearrange my closet?! It’s weird to find you digging through my stuff–”

“Okay okay no need to cry what’s the problem baby sib? C’mon you can use your words! Tell big bro Asmo what’s the matter?”

It’s almost a concern when he does it in front of your other brothers

Especially the ones you can hold an actual conversation

“Hey (Y/n) can you pass the salt and the salad.”

“Sure, man.”

“Hey Hey! Why are you bothering (Y/n), they’re trying to focus on eating? Not to mention your being such a meanie, trying to make them reach with their tiny arms!”

“(Y/n) is sitting closer to me than you…”

“So? How do you expect them to know good manners if you don’t show them! Here I’ll show you how! Watch me baby (Y/n)!”

He honestly doesn’t compute when you’re getting older

He’ll celebrate birthdays, milestones, awards

But he doesn’t believe you are growing and can’t see it either

Reprimanding you when you went out with your own car

“I’m all for playing with your toys, but you have to have a chaperone. Okay?”

That being said any advances from others are met with extreme animosity

“Not my little (Y/n)! Try that with someone else’s little baby!”

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yanderes #yandere #yandere obey me #yandere platonic #yandere platonic obey me x reader #yandere platonic obey me lucifer #yandere platonic obey me asmodeus #yandere platonic obey me leviathan #yandere obey me x reader #yandere obey me asmodeus

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fanfictionalraven · 3 months

Text

Promises

Title: Promises

Summary: You and Dean had promised each other you'd always be there, no matter what. But when Sam falls into the pit, Dean runs to someone else.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Bobby Singer, others mentioned

Word Count: 3,754

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of character death

Author's Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published October, 2017. Italics are flashbacks.

You run your hand over your face as you stare at the computer screen in front of you. This motel’s wi-fi sucked. You’d been waiting on this same page to load for five minutes now. Rising from the chair, you pull your jacket on. If it was going to be this slow, you were gonna go get a drink.

You make your way to the door, straightening out the collar of your jacket. You grab your keys and pull the door open, jumping back at what’s waiting on the other side. Your hand instinctively flinches for the gun tucked into the back of your jeans before you stop yourself.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You ask, more venom in your words than you had really intended.

“Hello to you too,” Dean Winchester snaps, the hand he had raised to knock falling to his side. It had been well over a year since you had seen or even spoken to Dean.

The two of you had practically grown up together. Your fathers had left you both at Bobby’s often and you considered the Winchesters family. You, Dean, and Sam had been through so much together but there was no denying you had been closer to the older brother. You were there for him through everything. Sam going to college. John dying. Sam dying. You’d watched him get dragged to Hell and were there as soon as he came back. You had been fully prepared to pull him through Sam falling into the pit. But Dean didn’t pick you. He’d picked her.

Lucifer had just blown Castiel into chunks before throwing Dean into the windshield of the Impala. Bobby shoots at him and with the flick of his wrist, Lucifer snaps his neck.

“Bobby!!” You scream out, moving towards his body quickly. You sob as your hands ghost over his neck, knowing there’s nothing you can do. Lucifer begins to punch Dean repeatedly. You rise to your feet and take a step to run and help him. Lucifer holds up a hand, freezing you to the place.

“No,” Dean chokes out, spitting up blood. Lucifer lets out a laugh as you attempt to move.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going to kill her yet. It’ll be more fun to make her watch me kill the man she loves with my bare hands,” he says.

You call out and sob, completely useless as Lucifer uses Sam’s hands to beat his brother within an inch of his life. Dean can barely see as he tells Sam it’ll be okay. Something snaps inside Sam. He regains control, grabs Michael, and the two tumble into the pit.

Once the pit closes up again, you’re released from the place you’d been standing. You rush to Dean’s side, quickly assessing his injuries. Cas appears next to you and reaches down, healing Dean instantly. He brings Bobby back as you help Dean to his feet.

The drive back to Bobby’s is quiet. Dean, yourself, and Bobby all ride together in the front seat of the Impala. Dean keeps both hands tight on the steering wheel as he drives. Once he stops the car in front of the house, Bobby gets out leaving the two of you alone. You peel one of Dean’s hands off the wheel and hold it in yours.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, your voice soft and comforting. He shakes his head, staring at the dashboard in front of him. “We’ll get through this.”

“I’m getting out,” he says. Your eyes widen in surprise before you nod.

“Okay. Well – ummm,” you start. Out had never really been in your plans but if that’s what Dean wanted, what Dean needed, then so be it. He pulls his hand away from yours, returning it to the wheel.

“I’m gonna go back to Lisa and Ben,” he says, eyes still forward. You stare at him in disbelief before your cheeks heat up quickly in embarrassment. Lucifer had put your feelings for Dean out there, plain as day. You loved him. But clearly Dean didn’t feel the same way. This was his way of breaking the news to you.

“Oh. Well – that’s, that’s good,” you say, sliding across the seat to the passenger side door. “If you need me, you know how to reach me,” He nods once, his eyes never leaving the dashboard. You couldn’t help the rage that was starting to build. Years of friendship and support and he just seemed to be tossing you aside. “Have a good life,” you tell him as you quickly exit the car. You barely get the door closed again before Dean’s spinning tires, leaving you in his dust.

“How did you find me?” You ask him now, crossing your arms. He rolls his eyes, squeezing into the room past you.

“Bobby always knows where you are,” he says. You frown and curse Bobby internally. Damn traitor.

“I thought you were out,” you say, closing the door as you turn to face him. He looks at your computer screen and raises an eyebrow.

“Was,” he says. “You’re hunting a rugaru by yourself?” He arches an eyebrow at you and you shrug, walking over quickly.

“So what if I am?” You ask, reaching past him to close the laptop.

“Never knew you to be stupid,” he says. Your eyes narrow, anger bubbling in your chest. You hadn’t seen him in over a year. Who did he think he was just barging in here, telling you how to run your own hunts?

“Why are you here, Dean?” You ask. He looks at you and something shifts in his face. It’s a look you know well. He’s worried.

“Sam’s back,” he says. You nod, biting your lip.

“I know,” you tell him. He frowns slightly and you sigh. “I’ve known this whole time. We even worked together – for a little while.”

“So everyone knew my brother wasn’t in Hell except for me,” he says, anger slipping into his words. You roll your eyes.

“You had what you wanted,” you tell him. He stares at you now, disbelieving.

“What I wanted?” He asks. You shrug your shoulders.

“Lisa and Ben, your perfect little normal family,” you sneer, walking past him. He grabs your arm and you look at him quickly.

“The hell is your problem, Y/N?” He asks. You jerk your arm away from him.

“Any time something happened, you ran to me and we faced it head on together. We promised we’d always be there for each other, whatever came. And I was there. Long before…” You stop, biting your lip. You didn’t want to do this. Every fiber of your being was fighting to keep the floodgates closed. Dean Winchester was sure as hell not about to see you crying over him.

“I needed a break, away from the life. I had to try for Sam, or so I thought,” he says. You squeeze your eyes closed, turning away from him. Taking a slow, steadying breath, you regain your composure.

“When Sam came back, I told him we had to tell you. I swear I did, Dean. But he said he’d seen you with Lisa and Ben and that you were happy. The happiest he’d ever seen you,” you tell him. Turning back to face him, you find he appears crestfallen. He looks like he’s struggling to say something before he shakes his head.

“You said you hunted with Sam,” he says. You frown and nod.

“For a little while – couple months maybe,” you tell him. The look on his face changes again, as though he already knows the answer to his next question.

“What happened?” He asks. You bite your lip and look away. “Y/N, I need to know.”

“He almost got me killed. We were on a hunt, a djinn. I can’t prove it but I – I think he let me get captured,” you confess. He nods slightly, watching you.

“I’m pretty sure he let me get turned into a vamp,” he tells you. Your eyes widen slightly before they jump to your bag of weapons open on the bed. Dean catches the movement and shakes his head. “Samuel cured me. Sounds crazy, I know, but you can check me yourself.” You shake your head slightly. “You met Samuel?”

“Your grandfather? Yea, he was a real charmer,” you say, rolling your eyes. Dean lets out a laugh and nods.

“Yea, he’s an ass,” he says. You smile a little then look down.

“Why’d you come?” You ask. He sighs and you look up at him again.

“Wanted a second opinion on Sam. And – ugh – I missed you,” he says. You can hear an added weight to his words. I missed you. His eyes are locked on yours, trying to pass those words’ deeper meaning telepathically. You shake your head, fighting tears once again.

“You picked her, Dean,” is all you can manage to say. He frowns and takes a tentative step towards you.

“I was trying to keep you safe. The people I care about most, they don’t do too good with me around. I couldn’t lose you like I lost Sam. So, I ran,” he admits.

He takes another step forward, closing the distance between the two of you. His hands capture yours and you look up at him. His eyes are soft as they search yours. He leans down slowly and your eyes flutter closed. You feel his nose bump yours gently and his breath, a mix of mint and whiskey, washes over you. At the last possible second, just before his lips touch yours, you find the strength to turn your head away.

“I don’t want to be your backup plan,” you tell him, your voice trembling. He frowns and raises your chin with one finger.

“That’s not what this is,” he says. You shake your head and pull your hands from his, taking a step away.

“That’s how it feels. Now, I’ll help you with Sam cause I’m worried about him too. But we’re just friends like we always were,” you say, picking up your computer.

“We were never just friends,” Dean says, staring at you. You look back at him, fresh tears threatening to spill over. You swallow hard and nod.

“Soon as we figure out what’s wrong with Sam and get it fixed, I’m gone,” you say, tossing your bag over your shoulder.

You meant it. You swore to yourself you’d meant it. The moment Sam was back to his normal self, you were going to be out the door. You weren’t going to slip back into your old routines with Dean. You would sleep on the floor before you’d share the motel bed with him like you used to. The stupid, flirty banter that used to make you think you meant more to him? That wasn’t going to happen either. That was your plan. It was a great plan. You just couldn’t stick to it.

You managed to keep your distance until you got hurt on a hunt. Dean was at your side in an instant, worried as usual. His hands made quick work of removing his flannel shirt. He tied it just above the gash in your leg then lifted you into his arms, carrying you bridal style back to the car as Sam finished clearing the nest.

He made Sam drive back to the motel, keeping constant pressure on your wound in the backseat. Sam parks the Impala outside the brothers’ room of the motel. You had your own room, your new normal, but Dean carries you into theirs and carefully deposits you on one of the beds. He reaches for the button on your jeans and you grab at his hands quickly.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” You ask. He rolls his eyes and swats your hands away.

“Sammy, get me the –,” he stops short. Sam is already at his side, needle, thread, and a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hands. Your eyes widen and you grab Dean’s hands again. He looks at you, exasperation fading into concern quickly. He knows how much you despise stitches. You were an ass-kicking hunter who had no problem facing a demon or a nest of vampires. But bring out a needle and you were running for the hills. “This isn’t a job for a bandage, Sweetheart. I’ve got you,” Dean reassures you. You groan and lay back on the bed, putting your hands over your face.

Dean unties the shirt he’d been using as a tourniquet and you feel the blood start to rush again. He quickly, but as carefully as he can, pulls your blood-soaked jeans off, handing them to Sam who throws them away. The next sensation causes you to sit upright and scream out. Dean had poured the whiskey onto your wound. He hands the bottle to you quickly and you turn it up before handing it to Sam. You look at Dean’s hands as he threads the needle effortlessly and your stomach churns. You follow his hands with your eyes as they move to your leg. One of his hands comes up, cupping your chin, and forces you to meet his eyes.

“You know the drill. Eyes on me,” he says, his voice calm and comforting. You nod and he presses his lips to your forehead quickly. His eyes drop to your leg momentarily before returning to yours. You feel the tug at your skin of your leg and grimace. “You remember the first time I did this?” He asks. You blink then nod, the memory returning. “Tell me about it.”

“We were just kids,” you start. Your voice is still trembling so you take a couple of deep breaths before continuing. “We were playing in Bobby’s scrapyard, exactly what he’d told us not to do. I fell and cut my arm. We were worried about how mad he was going to be so you said your dad had taught you how to do stitches. You started and I passed out.”

“I thought I’d killed you. I carried you back to Bobby and he finished with your stitches before you woke up,” he continues. His eyes shoot down to your leg between every stitch before returning to your face. “That was when I learned about your needle thing.”

“It’s a phobia, Dean, not a needle thing,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. He chuckles.

“And then I learned to do this,” he says, smiling at you proudly. “Perfect stitches, barely even looking.” He winks at you now and you shake your head.

“Promised you’d always take care of care me that day too,” you say. His smile falls slightly as his eyes drop for a second.

“I remember when Sam brought up the idea of anti-possession tattoos. I’d never seen you so pale,” he says, changing the subject. You groan at that memory and shake your head. “I got you through that too though.”

“You held my hand and kept me distracted,” you say, smiling a little. He nods, his eyes staying on your leg just a second longer before he looks up at you and smiles wider.

“Just like now. All done,” he says. You look down at your leg, surprised. There was a perfect line of needlework across your thigh. You smile and shake your head, looking back at Dean.

“Thank you,” you tell him. He shrugs then rises to his feet.

“You can use our shower to get cleaned up,” he says. You nod and he helps you up from the bed. “You’re staying in our room tonight. I’ll sleep in the chair, I don’t care. But – I’d really like to be able to keep an eye on you. You lost a lot of blood.” He has an arm around your waist, helping you towards the bathroom.

You didn’t make Dean sleep in the chair that night. And you didn’t get a separate room any longer. After that, everything felt normal again. You and Dean would tease each other mercilessly just like you always had. You’d find yourself wrapped in his arms in the early morning hours just like you always had.

A few things had changed though. He didn’t hit on women in the bars like he used to. Instead, he’d stay close by your side, scaring off any man who dared get too close. Normally, you would have been pissed but suddenly you didn’t mind so much.

In the days that follow, Dean makes some backwards deal with Death in order to get Sam’s soul back. He does it behind your back, knowing you’d try to talk him out of it. The slap he receives when he returns tells him he was right not to tell you. The hug and kiss on the cheek tell him you forgive him immediately.

“Soon as we figure out what’s wrong with Sam and get it fixed, I’m gone.”

Those were your words. Your solemn vow to yourself. And that time was now. Sam’s soul had been restored and he seemed to be adjusting well. You’re in the spare room at Bobby’s, packing your bag. A knock at the door draws your attention.

“Come in,” you call out. The door opens and the younger Winchester walks in, smiling.

“Hey, ummm – I wanted to apologize. Cas told me what I did,” he says. You smile at him and shake your head.

“We’re good, Sam. The djinn was nothing,” you tell him. He frowns more.

“That’s not what I meant although I am definitely sorry for that too,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him and he sighs. “I made you believe that Dean didn’t want you.”

“Sam, that’s between me and Dean,” you say, looking back at your bag.

“Yea, but if I hadn’t have opened my big soulless mouth, would you have gone to him?” He asks. You sigh and hang your head.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I would have done. I don’t know what I want to do. I don’t know anything anymore honestly,” you say, looking back at him. He smiles a little.

“Well, let me tell you what I know,” he says as he walks over. You sigh and cross your arms causing him laugh. He puts his hands on your shoulders. “I know that you’ve been crazy about Dean since you were 12. I know that he’s wanted you since you went to prom with that Sanchez guy. And I know that you’ve both been running from each other for years,” he says. You shake your head slightly.

“But…”

“Talk to him, Y/N. Please,” Sam says. He presses a quick kiss to your forehead before leaving you alone. You frown and run your hands over your face. Shaking your head again, you turn back to your bag. You hear the door open and the sound of boots walking across the floor.

“Sam, I swear,” you turn and stop short. Dean’s standing just inside the room. He glances at the bag sitting on the bed.

“Sam said you were packing,” he says. You frown and nod slightly.

“He’s back to normal,” you say. His face falls and he shakes his head.

“Don’t go,” he says. “We’re good together, Y/N. And I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You picked her, Dean,” you say, looking at the floor to avoid his eyes.

“It was never because I wanted her more, Y/N. You gotta believe that. I was never fully present there with her. And she knew it. She thought it was Sam or hunting, and part of it was. But it was mostly you,” he says, walking towards you. “By the time I’d realized I’d made a mistake, I couldn’t just leave them. And I didn’t think you’d have me after the way I left either.” You wipe at your cheek, furiously.

“You abandoned me. You weren’t the only one grieving, you know? I mean, I get that he isn’t really my brother but I was hurting too,” you tell him. He frowns and shakes his head quickly.

“No, I know. I know you were and there is no excuse for what I did,” he says, reaching for your hands. You step back, balling your hands into fists at your sides.

“Sam said he saw you. That you were happy. Happier than you’d ever been. Happier than you could have been with – with me,” you say, trying to control your emotions. This was the conversation you had wanted to avoid. You hated letting people see you cry, especially Dean. He drops his hands at his side.

“Sam told you what he knew was going to keep you away from me. Because he knew that if you had shown up on that doorstep, I’d have been back in. In a heartbeat,” he says. “I’ve been happier in the last couple weeks with you than I was the whole year with her, even with the crap that’s been going on.” He tentatively reaches for your hands again and this time you allow him to take them.

“What if she calls?” You ask, still avoiding his eyes. He hooks a finger under your chin and lifts your face to meet his.

“She won’t. It’s over. And even if she does, it won’t matter,” he tells you. You bite your lip, searching his eyes. “I’m not good with words. I don’t know how to tell you how much you mean to me. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes. You name it and it’s yours. You want a dozen roses and a diamond ring or you want me to – to jump off the roof or paint your name on Baby or – or – okay, maybe not anything to do with Baby.” You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, looking away. He smiles, leaning in towards you slightly. Your eyes close as his lips brush against your cheek.

“Me and you?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper. You look back up at him now and he’s smiling at you softly.

“Me and you. Till the end of the road. I promise,” he says. You smile then stand up, pressing your lips against his. Your lips move in perfect sync, like it wasn’t the first time they’d ever met. You feel him smile before he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re staying then?”

“Oh, you’re never getting rid of me now,” you tell him, smirking. He laughs then lifts you up with ease, tossing you back onto the bed behind you.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #reader insert #bobby singer #castiel #fanfiction #fanfic #spn

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melrodrigo · 1 year

Text

Tardy, part 3

Tara Carpenter x F!Reader

Summary: Ghostface makes his first move, how will you and Tara react?

Warnings: Violence, slight gore, suggestive themes, Tara giving powerbottom vibes, kissy kissy noises, fluff

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I’m still writing out the plot for the rest of this series, so if you have something you really want to see, send them in my asks! As always, thank you for all the love <3

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to die.

It doesn’t happen exactly like that; it’s all a blur of feelings and pure animal instincts. When you see Ghostface make his way towards Tara, full force with a knife held over his head, something in you snaps.

You can’t seem to focus on anything else.

Tara whom you’ve been enamored with at first sight, Tara who makes you monthly playlists, who remembers your class schedule, Tara who just kissed you.

Tara. Tara. Tara.

Ghostface’s a finger away from Tara before you grab your computer; still playing Titanic, and slam it across his head.

“Get the fuck away from her.” You spit, watching as Ghostface whirls around bewildered, obviously not anticipating you fighting back.

He’s bigger than you, but he looks unsure. You see it in his stance, in the grip around his knife.

He surges at you, hands gripping around your shoulders tight. The knife is still in one of his hands, you’re acutely aware of it. You guys thrash around wildly, and fall onto the floor; hard. His head connects to the pavement with a loud thud, and for a moment you think he might be dead.

That is until Ghostface lets out a groan, and reaches out to try and grab you again. He’s weakened, and you take the moment to your advantage, kicking at his shins with all your might.

He cries out, grabbing at thin air.

You’re about to reach forward and rip the mask off his face, but Tara stops you with a tug on your arm.

You furrow your eyebrows, sending her a questioning look. Did she not want to find out who Ghostface was?

“Come on, we have to go. They’re still- Sam, she’s still down there.” She rushes out, and it’s only then you notice some messy mascara stains are running down her cheeks.

You frown. You know Tara’s a nervous crier, but it’s never happened right in front of you.

It seems like only then Tara realizes she’s been crying. Her cheeks flush red a little in embarrassment, but she’s still staring at you with urgency in her eyes.

You swipe quickly at her cheeks.

You follow her lead, but not before locking the door to the roof; leaving Ghostface locked up outside.

Sucker.

You and Tara sprint down the stairs and into the apartment, stopping short at the sight in front of you.

It’s a mess.

The coffee table is broken, carpet stained with blood; but worst of all, it’s empty.

You search for any signs of life, any screaming. They were here moments ago, where could they have gone? More importantly, where was the other Ghostface?

There’s always two, you remember.

You decide you don’t want to stick around and find out. You grab Tara’s hand, tugging her out of the apartment and down the stairs of their condo.

“Tara!” Sam’s voice bellows from below you. She looks uninjured, other than a couple of blood stains on her shirt.

You guys round the last corner of the stairs to come face to face with all your friends. Anika and Mindy stood tight together, holding onto each other’s hands for dear life. Chad’s behind them, looking smaller than you’ve ever seen him.

Sam’s at the front, nothing but fury in her eyes.

She rushes to Tara the moment you guys hit the floor, taking her in her arms; holding tight.

Despite the mini-argument they had before, Tara melts into her sister's arms. She sniffs a couple of times and buries her face in her sister’s shirt.

Then, Sam turns on you.

“What were you thinking? Bringing Tara up alone, when Ghostface is on the loose like this?” She hisses, eyes hard.

“How do I know you’re not the killer, hm? Distract Tara, let your partner come in and attack us. Was that your plan all along?” She continues, accusations spewing out of her.

“Sam, I know it looks bad but I did not plan this. I would never, ever hurt Tara. Ghostface came and attacked us too.” You reply, starting to feel agitated.

She scoffs and turns away.

“Are you guys okay?” You ask, turning and searching their bodies for any serious cuts or bruises.

“He didn’t come for us. He came in, gave Anika this, then went straight to the roof.” Mindy answers, voice hollow. She’s staring at the wall behind you, and you’re anger dissipates into uneasiness at her empty gaze.

Her words make your eyes dart to Anika. She’s cowering behind Mindy a little, one arm bloody, the other pressing into the wound. Your eyes widen.

“Oh, my god. Anika, are you okay?” You start walking up to her, but an arm in your way makes you stop in your tracks.

Mindy stares at you, accusatory glance in her eyes. Anika pushes her hand away gently, debating in a silent conversation. It seems Anika wins when Mindy finally let's go, and you send her a grateful smile.

“I’m okay. It hurts like hell right now but I’ll be fine.” She says, voice strong. You breathe out in relief, “I’m glad.”

“I think you need more urgent care than me though.”

You raise your eyebrows, what was she talking about?

“Oh shit YN, you’re bleeding,” Tara says as she pulls away from her sister, quickly rushing to you.

You look down, and you realize that you are in fact bleeding. Quite a lot actually, how you didn’t see it before was a wonder.

Your shirt is ripped at the part below your collarbone, and a deep cut could be seen; from your shoulder to the skin a little above your chest.

Woah, where did that come from?

It must’ve been the adrenaline, that stopped you from feeling it before. Because the minute you see it now you feel a throbbing pain shoot up immediately.

Tara stares up at you, her eyes guilt-filled and worried.

“Does it hurt?” She asks, her hands twitching at her sides; like she wants to reach out and soothe you.

It sure does hurt, but you’re not going to worry her with that now.

You bring your hands to her cheeks again, wiping a new teardrop that just fell. Now that Ghostface isn’t here, you take your time wiping her face. Savoring the feel of her skin against yours.

“No, it doesn’t.” You mutter softly. It might be a lie, but if it lets you stay in this moment forever you’d gladly say it for the rest of your life.

A cough from Sam once again breaks you out of your trance. She’s still glaring at you intensely, but at this point, you don’t even care.

“So, there was only one Ghostface?” You question, mind starting to get slightly woozy.

“Only one for this attack, we don’t know for sure if there’s only one.” Mindy corrects, and you can almost see the cogs turning in her head.

“Can you get your hands off my sister now?” Sam cuts in, still scowling. How are her eyes not tired?

You roll your eyes slightly; not enough for her to see, because well she was Samantha Carpenter. The only family your girlfriend-? had.

Was Tara your girlfriend now? She kissed you, but that could mean anything. She’d agreed to the date, but she could’ve easily changed her mind after it.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Tara takes you in a hug.

You can’t help but wince at the sudden contact with your open wound and she pulls back quickly.

“Knew it. You are in pain.” She mutters, before pressing her lips to your cheek.

Your eyes widen and you flush red embarrassingly fast. You stare at the rest of the group while she does this, gauging their reactions.

Sam glares, Chad has a pained expression, Mindy’s eyes soften, and Anika has a small smirk playing on her lips.

You’re still embarrassingly red when Tara pulls away, making her smirk as she eyes you.

“Shut up.” You mumble.

Tara tuts, “That’s not a very nice thing to say to your lover, now, is it? But I’ll let it go just this once. You did take a stab to the shoulder for me, after all.”

You don’t have time to process the fact that she called you her lover before she grabs your hand and pulls you outside; where an ambulance is waiting.

Getting fixed up wasn’t so bad, especially when Tara was by your side the whole time. Sat in peaceful silence; you can’t help that your mind starts to wander.

Ghostface was back, and you could tell it affected everybody in the group. You were lucky in a sense, this was your first time experiencing it; you didn’t carry that same trauma they did.

You glance at Tara, whose eyes are dark and gloomy. She’s watching Anika get fixed up too.

“I can’t believe the motherfucker is actually back.” She says, more to herself than you.

“We’ll get through this, Tara. You’ll get through this. You always have.”

She doesn’t say anything as she scoots in closer and wraps an arm around your waist. You don’t have the heart to tell her the position hurts your wound.

You don’t think you mind though, if it means staying here in Tara’s arms; where you belong.

“I think you should flee the country,” Tara starts abruptly. “It didn’t work for me and Sam but I think it might work with you. Ignore what I said before, you aren’t the star of this movie, it should work.”

You feign offense, hand over your heart.

“Well damn, you didn’t have to attack me like that.”

Tara shakes her head, still looking vexed. She turns to stare into your eyes, a serious look painting her face.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, and if you’re with me you will get hurt. Maybe even more than this.” She says, almost whispering.

You chuckle a bit and pull her head down so it’s resting on your shoulder.

“Tara, you’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you. I was serious about before, as long as I’m with you; I’m content.” You tell her, and her hands wrap tighter around your waist.

She doesn’t say it out loud, but she wonders how she got so lucky with you.

She tilts her head up to kiss you on the cheek.

You don’t tell her, but you’re thinking the same thing too.

If Tara was flirty before you confessed your feelings to her, then you could call her behavior now feral.

It hasn’t even been a full day since the attack, and so far; Tara’s managed to pull you into four different rooms in the apartment to make out.

You’re yanked into another one, her hands madly grabbing at you.

“Jesus chr-“ You barely let out before she’s kicking the door closed and connecting her lips to yours.

Her kisses descend to your neck, hands on your waist.

“Tara. Sam’s in the living room.” You warn, trying to push her away gently.

She bites down on your neck, enough to hurt.

“But I want you,” She says, voice muffled by your skin. “I’ve wanted you for so long. Now that I have the opportunity I’m not letting it go.”

You whimper slightly. Now that was embarrassing.

She smiles and takes your lips in a fierce kiss. You reply just as eagerly, fingers curling in her hair.

“Do you not want me?” She asks, biting at your bottom lip.

You stifle the groan that threatens to leave your mouth. Shake your head no aggressively.

“Of course, I do,” You mumble. “I just want you know…our first time to be, special.”

She softens a bit at your confession, reluctantly pulling away.

She huffs as she says, “Fine.”

You miss the feel of her body against yours immediately, and you grab at her; bringing her back into your arms.

“I never said we couldn’t do other stuff though.” You whisper, leaving little pecks on her lips.

She grabs your face and brings you to her lips forcefully, “Don’t do that, kiss me like you mean it.”

You gladly do.

“So…any chance you’re taking me on that date anytime soon?” Tara asks, arms propped up on the bed.

You swallow, try and steady your breathing.

Then you nod animatedly, “I really want to, but with Sam and everything…I think we’re on house arrest.”

She hums and falls back into the bed beside you.

“We could still sneak out, I do like pissing off my sister.” She suggests, eyes sparkling.

“Well, I don’t. Sam already thinks I’m a psycho killer, I don’t need her thinking I’m irresponsible too.” You reply, fingers tracing the fabric of her clothes.

Tara whines, pulls you closer by the collar of your shirt.

She flashes you those pleading eyes, and you feel your argument start to dissolve immediately.

“Please? I want to go on a date with you.”

You're silent in your thoughts, debating if it’s worth it to give her what she wants.

“Please,” She whispers a final time, and you decide that her begging is your new favorite thing to hear.

“Okay.” You relent, and she smiles victoriously.

“I can’t wait.” She giggles, giving you a quick peck and letting go of your collar.

When she gets up and out of the bed, you protest. She looks almost guilty as she tells you, “Sam’s gonna kill you if I stay in here any longer.”

You reluctantly nod, agreeing with her statement. She sends you a quick smile before exiting, leaving you sprawled on the bed.

You stare at the ceiling, millions of thoughts racing through your head. One comes out victorious.

How are you going to plan a mind-blowing date in one day?

#tardy #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream vi #tara carpenter x y/n #scream #tara carpenter x you

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in1-nutshell · 6 months

Note

Hey, not sure if you're down for writing a continuation of the “Megatron 'accidentally' adopting human Buddy who fears nothing” post. But there was a line “Rung has a line of bots that express the same worry for Buddy one day doing something dumb and not being able to come back from it.” that I think should be expanded upon. Dangerous things are constantly happening to the lost light crew and Buddy must have the devil's luck to come out of everything that happens unscathed. I'd like to see that luck run out. I'd like to see the crew panicking because Buddy got hurt badly and there's been no news if they'll recover or not. I want to see Megatron deal with the impending mortality of his newly adopted kid poorly. And I want to see everyone on the lost light panic even more because if Megatron doesn't start a war if this kid dies, Whirl absolutely will. P.s please let buddy live, I may crave angst, but not that much.

Have a good day, love your writing

Ooooh! Have you been peaking at some of my drafts? haha! I have been thinking about what would happen if Buddy ever got hurt on Megatron's watch. But now more bots are going to watch.

Hope you enjoy!

Megatron and Fearless Buddy who gets seriously hurt

SFW, familial, platonic, angst but happy ending, mention of injuries but nothing graphic or detailed, Human reader

MTMTE/LL

As we all know Buddy fears nothing

And this put some stress on their friends and new dad, Megatron.

“Hey Megs!”--Rodimus

“Rodimus, don’t call me that.”--Megatron

“Yeah, not gonna happen. Anyways I was wondering if you’ve seen Buddy anywhere. They were supposed to show me something?”--Rodimus

“Show you what?”--Megatron

“Something about being a present for being Brainstorm’s ‘Guinea pig’?”--Rodimus

Buddy flying by on a jet pack.

“Hi Roddy! Hi Megs! Bye Roddy! Bye Megs!”--Buddy

“…”—Rodimus and Megatron

CRASH!

Both mechs start running

But as time continues to go on, their little antics are just normalized. Sure, there are still some bots that know the true fragility of the human life span. Such bots included but not limited to Ratchet, First Aid, Velocity, Swerve, Rung, Megatron, and Whirl

“Where are you going with those pilars?”—First Aid

“It’s nothing illegal, yet.”--Buddy

“What type of answer is that!?”—First Aid

But for the most part the crew thinks Buddy is almost as durable as they are. Yes, even Megatron has been guilty of this type of behavior. He isn’t too proud of that.

“C’mon Fleshy jump and do a flip!”—Random Bot

“Bet—”--Buddy

“I think not.”--Whirl

“Whirl?!”--Buddy

“If you break your dumb fragile bones who else is going to come with me on planet expeditions? Cyclonus? I think not. He sucks out all the fun.”—Whirl

“I am literally right here.”--Cyclonus

So, let the angst begin.

The place was being invaded by space pirates.

The pirates where taking the bridge and had successfully barricaded themselves in.

“Why can’t we just break the door down?”--Buddy

“The main room has delicate equipment. One wrong move…”--Megatron

“Okay that’s a bad idea then.”--Buddy

“We just need an opening from the main door and we can figure out the rest.”--Rodimus

“Hey, I’m tiny enough to fit through the crack under the door. I can open the door!”--Buddy

“Absolutely not.”--Megatron

“For once I’m agreeing with him.”--Whirl

“Hey, its not like we have many options here. Unless someone else has a better idea then I am quite literally the only thing stopping these guys.”--Buddy

“…go then…”--Megatron

He was going to regret saying it like that. The computers dashboard in order to unlock the door or at least give it an opening. So, when they were sure that the aliens weren’t looking, they sprinted over to the console by swinging up with a grappling hook to the chair and began running towards the buttons.

They had indirectly activated the plasma screens.

These were holoscreens all over the ship that would show what was happening on the bridge. Everyone had a front row seat to Buddy sprinting across the console. There where cheers as Buddy was coming closer and closer to the button

“They made it!”--Rodimus

“Way to go Buddy!”--Tailgate

“Just press the button.”—Ultra Magnus

“That’s my Amica—”--Whirl

It was right there…

The alien came out of nowhere…

“EW! A Rat!”--Alien

“A ra—"--Buddy

They swatted Buddy across the room in one swift movement. They’re tiny body hurdling across the room and off screen. A small sickening crack was heard.

It was barely noticeable.

But it caused a deafening sound across the entire Lost Light.

Good news for the crew, Buddy’s shoe came off from the force of the hit and successfully pressed the button opening the door.

Everyone is lined up to take these aliens down.

Megatron and Whirl are at the forefront of it.

Megatron is trying to find Buddy while Whirl is absolutely destroying everything.

Megatron spots Buddy slumped over in the far corner of the room.

No motion, nothing

He is just frozen in place.

“Buddy…”--Megatron

“…”--Buddy

“Megatron! Move!”--Ratchet

Ratchet snaps him out of it as he is trying to help Buddy.

Megatron snaps out of it a cover him.

Buddy is rushed out an into the medbay.

Everyone is waiting.

The sudden gravity of Buddy’s mortality weighs heavily on the minds of everyone involved.

Megatron sulks in his room thinking about how he failed them. He can’t bear to sit by Buddy in the med bay. Ratchet understands and tells him that he when Buddy wakes up.

Whirl on the other hand, stays by Buddy’s bed side the entire time.

“Hey Tiny. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve open those little eyes… You mind opening them up?”--whirl

“…”--Buddy

“Fine be like that…”--Whirl

“…”--Buddy

“Well, you’ve missed a lot since you took that hit. One you have a ton of inner most energon by your room and a growing number of get-well gifts. I personally made sure none of you’re a secret bomb. Megs is still in his room and its giving everyone the creeps.”--Whirl

“…”--Buddy

“… Don’t tell this to anyone… but we miss you, you scared the ever living Pits out of us.”--Whirl

“…”--Buddy

Whirl has lost every good thing in his life. He is going to make sure that this one thing does go so soon.

Buddy does wake up

“Hye Whirly Bird?”--Buddy

“Buddy?!”--Whirl

“Why you looking at me like that? Someone died?”--Buddy

“You nearly did Tiny!”--Whirl

“But I didn’t, huh? It takes more than a hand to stop me.”--Buddy

“…I guess huh.”--Whirl

Megatron is zooming over when he hears. Buddy is trying to play off their injuries to try and keep the peace.

“Hey Megs.”--Buddy

“Buddy…”--Megatron

“You okay? You look like you’re dying.”--Buddy

“… that was a poor choice of words.”--Megatron

“Yeah I guess— woah, Megs?"—Buddy

Megatron gently holding Buddy’s hand the best he can

“Just let me hold you please, just a little bit.”--Megatron

“Sure Megs.”--Buddy

As they are recovering Buddy is treated with a bit more respect than they had before. Good thing too, they did after all manage to save the ship after all.

#transformers #transformers x reader #idw mtmte #mtmte x reader #mtmte megatron #mtmte rodimus #mtmte whirl #maccadam #mtmte x platonic reader #human buddy

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thisismeracing · 7 months

Text

King of my heart | extras | Mick and Yn create a playlist together

― Summary: Yn and Mick are still threading through their feelings, none of them yet aware of how deep it is. Some say that actions speak louder than words, but guess songs do too sometimes. ― Word count: 1.3k ― A/n: This can be read as a stand-alone, but it’s better when you’ve read the series. ― Warnings: mention of food; tooth aching fluff.

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“I created the playlist,” Yn shares once she finds Mick in the garage. It’s close to lunchtime, and some of the crew are already leaving to eat at the paddock cafeteria. George is pointing something to Mick on the computer to which he simply nods before turning to Yn. “I just sent you the Spotify link,” she adds.

His eyes take her in and he nods again. He wants to say a lot of things, how beautiful she looks, how he missed her the whole morning, how boring it felt without her laugh, how happy he is that she created the playlist, that way he’ll have yet another excuse to text her, but he just nods. A lot of the things that are going through Mick’s mind are making him choose to keep his lips sealed. He knows each little thing can and will be pointed to by his friends as catching feelings.

The worst thing is that he believes that maybe it is true.

Maybe he is falling for Yn.

His friend’s sister.

His co-worker's sister.

“What playlist?” George asks, poking his head in their direction and Yn rolls her eyes playfully.

“It’s nothing, you’re a driver, not a reporter, you don’t need to know everything,” her retort makes Mick throw his head back in laughter and even Russell himself can’t contain the snicker.

“You’ve been walking too much with Lando, you’re getting sassier,” the British points while taking off the headphones from around his neck.

“As it happens, I’ve actually been walking a lot with you, George.”

Mick snickers watching the whole interaction the way you watch a tennis match, head going from one side to the other to catch the faces the duo is making.

“Anyways, I gotta go have lunch, you two have fun,” Russell patted Yn’s and Mick’s back before leaving them alone in front of the computer.

“Are you having lunch in the cafeteria with everyone?” he asks but what he really wants to say is: would you like to have lunch with me?

Yn shakes her head, “I ordered lunch.”

“Oh-”

She adds before Mick can say something else, “I ordered two…you said you wanted to try that salad last time, and I thought-”

“Awesome! So we go through the songs while we eat lunch,” Mick has a small smile on his pink lips, whereas he’s jumping up and down inside.

Yn nodded, starting the track to one of the meeting rooms she used to work while in the garage. Mick is right behind her, and the silence until they reach the door is peaceful. Yn left the package by the table along with two bottles of water, but they settled on the couch sitting in front of each other. Shoes discarded on the ground, legs crossed.

“I already added one song, I’m sorry,” Yn starts and Mick nods, silently asking her to continue. “Die Hard, by Kendrick Lamar.”

“This song is amazing!”

“Do you like it?” Yn asks, smile wider this time, and Mick nods.

“Can I add Lost by Frank Ocean?” the blonde asks and Yn jumps up and down while still sitting.

“Yes!! Absolutely!!”

She digs her fork into the food before taking a bite. Mick sips his water, and then asks, “So, you add one I add one? And we only add the ones we agree on or? How’s this gonna work?”

“I think we can make a mix, no need to agree, we will listen to everything afterwards and then we can talk about the ones we never heard before… that is if you agree.”

“Well, I’ve never made a shared playlist like this before, so yeah, I agree.”

Yn smiles, “I do them all the time with Lewis, he hasn’t surrendered to Taylor Swift quite yet, but I always try,” Mick chuckles. “Anyways, I think we should add some classics like It Wasn’t Me, we were listening to it that day in the car, you remember?”

“Yeah, you sang that Mick song too.”

“Oh, Mick, you’re so fine, so fine you blow my mind,” she sang teasing him and the German rolled his eyes playfully, a flush creeping from his neck to his ears.

“Does she actually sing Mick?” he’s truly curious.

Yn shakes her head, “But I do,” the way she winks at him makes his stomach roll and feel cold in a strange yet good way. “She sings Mickey, but I think Mick fits better, don’t you think?”

Mick is at a loss for words, so he chooses to stuff his mouth with lettuce and shrug instead of answering. How could he answer? Were they flirting? What the hell was this feeling in his stomach?

“I propose we add the songs and go through it in real-time. Open the app there,” she points to his cell phone and Mick does as she says.

“You just added Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls,” he states and taps his fingers on the screen adding Tennessee Whiskey, watching Yn as she furrows her brows.

“I’ve never heard this one.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t know much about Country music,” she confesses.

“I’ll add my favorite ones for you.”

Yn smiles at him.

They go about eating and adding songs to the playlist. There’s a smile and a giggle here and there, sometimes laughter, and frowns with the unknown songs.

Yn is sipping her water and looking at the phone, when she sees a new song pop on the list, “What does ‘schön’ mean?”

“I’m adding some German songs for you,” Mick explains, but Yn is not satisfied with the simple answer.

“‘Mkey, how do you say this?”

“Sch-ön,” he slowly mouths and she giggles.

“With kissy lips?” Mick nods. “Man, you Germans are kinda cute. You make kissy faces every time there’s a word with this thingy?”

“Umlaut,” he explains, holding back a chuckle. “And yeah, kinda.”

“So…what is this song about?” Yn asks, hitting play.

Mick watches as Yn bops her head to the rhythm, a grin on her plush lips and her eyes closed.

Du bist schön und es macht Spaß, dich anzuseh'n

(So schön)

Du bist schön und meine Augen sind verwöhnt

(Verwöhnt)

Du bist schön, uh, du bist schön

“What is he saying, Mouse?”

“You are beautiful, and fun to look at. You are beautiful and my eyes are… spoiled,” he tries to focus on the lyrics, but the second her eyes open and they find each other the song becomes mere background noise. “You’re beautiful,” this time his voice is a bit softer.

“Did he sing that again?”

Mick shakes his head, notices what he just did, and then nods.

“Yeah, it’s… it’s a simple song, it’s a good choice if you want to start learning some words in German.”

They go about adding songs in silence again, until Yn jumps from the couch hitting play on yet another song, “Oooh, this one’s good, you’ll like it!”

“Taylor Swift?”

“You were able to identify, that’s a good start. Yes. This one’s called Karma, it totally has your energy, Mouse.”

Mick furrows his brows in confusion and Yn starts walking around the room while explaining to him the story behind the music which took them over twenty minutes, but the Schumacher wasn’t bored, quite the opposite, he listened to everything, asking one question here and there, and chuckling at her enthusiasm.

It’s only when Lewis texts Mick telling him lunchtime is over that they wrap up their conversation, agreeing on adding songs to the playlist whenever they find something the other might like or should see.

“Thanks for lunch. Guess I owe you dinner now, huh?”

Yn sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, and Mick’s eyes drop slightly following the motion.

“Yup,” she nods. “See you in a few, Mouse.”

And when the door closes behind the blond Yn sighs. Her brother would have to forgive her. Not liking Mick was getting harder and harder.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you guys like this piece! A huge shout out to my ☕️anon for proofreading this piece so quick ❤️ Don’t forget to reblog and comment, and follow me if you liked it!

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#komh #millie writes #mick schumacher #ms47 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x black!reader #mick schumacher x reader #f1 fandom #mick schumacher fluff #f1 x you #f1 fanfiction #mick schumacher fanfiction #hamilton!reader #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic

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strstab · 1 year

Text

𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 - 𝐣.𝐦

summary ; planning to study on the beach, not much gets done as your boyfriend comes to you for affection

pairing ; jj maybank x fem!reader

notes ; kissing, beach studying, pda, fluff, mentions of kids & marriage

a/n ; i had something else planned for today but i wouldn’t be able to finish in time so hopefully it’s out tmr? sorry this sucks it’s last minute 😓

ALSO THANK YALL FOR 200+ NOTES ON MY PREV POST. honestly my phone was buzzing every couple minutes and it made my day. hopefully this gets around the same attention as the last. enjoy <3

after hours of surfing and downing beers with your best friends, you decided to settle down and do you homework as the sun began to set.

after setting your notebooks and laptop onto your towel, you laid on your stomach and began to copy down your notes that were written on your notebook. writing paragraphs and finding answers came easy to you, but not to the blond that approached you after a good 10 minutes with droplets of water dangling from his hair.

“left us for a computer and stacks of paper, baby?” he looked down at you with a lopsided grin. you looked up at him, shielding your eyes from the beaming sun that was soon to be gone and replaced with the glistening moon.

jj plopped down next to you, ruffling his hands in his wet hair causing the drops of water to fly onto your dry skin and notebook. you slapped his knee and scolded him for wetting you and your work. he refrained from making a dirty joke and apologized. he stared at you as you typed along the keyboard of your laptop, fingers leaving satisfying clicking sounds at each key you tapped.

you looked ethereal in this moment. sun beaming on your glowing skin, strands of hair dangling in front of your oh so focused face. he loved that face you made when you were focused. determined or just simply thinking of the random thoughts that flooded your mind when you were around people. the ways your eyes squinted in the slightest way and brows creased as you chewed on the bottom of your lip. or your nails. he knew you chewed on your nails at times. the nails that you got done once every month. every month he’d pay that place on figure 8 to see his favorite girl pleased as she looked at her designed nails, even if she was able to pay them herself.

he pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck and you laughed at the ticklish feel. he snatched the mechanical pencil from your fingers and threw it far towards the sand that faded into blue waters.

“jj! that was my last one and kie’s going to kill you for throwing plastic AND lead into the ocean!” you chide, sitting up to look at him.

he muttered something a long the lines ‘she won’t know’ or ‘she won’t notice’ and pulled you into his lap. you let out a loud sigh as he left a trail of kisses on your cheek and down to your neck.

when he was done, you decided it was your turn. you kissed his jaw and tried to suppress a smile. how could you be mad? yeah, you spent the whole day together but your boyfriend was too cute to be ignored. homework could be finished… sometime later. or maybe never.

he nuzzled into the crook of your neck and whispered pretty nothings only you two could hear. there was something about the waves crashing in and the sun being right on the horizon as you watched the silhouettes of your friends splashing each other with the love of your life right behind you.

jj lifted his face and whispered something inaudible. you tilted your head to look at him but his were fixated on the ocean before you. “what’d you say, baby?”

“i said ‘do you think we could get married on the beach?” you were a little taken aback by the sudden comment but smiled nonetheless. he wanted to marry you. you always saw a future with jj, but hearing him mention it out loud just hit different.

you pushed him onto his back and kissed his lips. he cupped your jaw and melted into you as your lips moved together. you pulled away with a big smile and planted soft peck onto the tip of his nose.

“is that your way of proposing, mr. maybank?”

he sneered and shook his head, “hell no. baby my proposal for you is going to be so big that you’re going to remember every little detail of it and stress out our kids about it so they grow to have high standards,”

kids. jj never was a fan of children. even when he was one himself. but with you, he’d be willing to give up stealing and smoking if it meant being with you for a little longer. so if it was kids you wanted, kids he’d give you. raise with you, scold with you, maybe drink without you but you get the gist.

“but i promise i’ll make you my mrs one day.”

“did you look at the list of baby names i sent you?” you asked looking into his pretty blue eyes.

he had. he went through all of them and surprisingly liked some of them. but you had A LOT of time before he was signing the birth certificate of your kids.

you leaned in for another kiss right as you were smacked in the head with a cold, aluminum can. you snapped your head into the direction where the can flew from and saw your friends standing with grossed out faces.

“get your asses up before we call the PDA police!” john b yelled as kiara and sarah mimicked siren noises.

jj groaned and sat up, giving your cheek a kiss before sliding you off his lap and cleaning up the area.

#jj maybank fluff #beach date #studying #jj obx #jj mayback x reader #kissing #fluff #john b routledge #kiara obx #jj maybank imagine #fem reader #jj maybank x reader #strstab

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sattlersquarry · 1 year

Text

the end is here (steve harrington x gn!reader)

Summary: (Season 4 adjacent) Your boyfriend Steve Harrington is keeping secrets from you, and you aren't sure how much longer you can take it. (Title comes from "I Know The End" by Phoebe Bridgers.)

This is a direct continuation of the video store frame-up of '86. You don't have to read that one to get it but I recommend it!

Word Count: ~5.3k

Warnings: angst up the wazoo w/ a happy ending, language, mentions of sex, some violence and mentions of medical emergencies/broken legs/painkillers.

A/N: Tonally, this is quite different from the video store frame up of '86 but I wanted to explore what it'd be like to be an outsider in Hawkins during Season 4 when all the shit is going down.

gif is from the Netflix giphy account

March, 1986

Working with Steve is fun, and your relationship blossoms the more time you spend together. However, there’s still a nagging thought in the back of your mind—the thought that he’s keeping something from you. Something big. You ignore it as best you can, but you have a feeling that your curiosity is going to catch up to you.

And it does the day you clock into your shift and see Steve, Robin, and two of their friends searching the Family Video database for an unfamiliar name.

“Uh, who’s Rick Lipton,” you say, “and why are you four stalking his rental history?”

The group whirls around, startled by your sudden appearance.

“Y/N! Hey!” Steve says. He angles his body so you can’t read the computer. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for my shift, same as you,” you say. You crane your neck to get a better look at the screen. “So, does he have mega late fees or something?”

“Who?” Robin asks innocently.

“Who else? Rick Lipton, the guy you’re looking up.”

“It’s nothing like that,” the curly-haired boy with them says. He’s Dustin, one of Steve’s closest friends.

The name of the girl, with plaited red hair and sharp blue eyes, escapes you. Margie…Melanie…Meg…it starts with an M. You’re certain of that much.

“Max and Dustin were just leaving,” Steve says, giving them a look.

Max! That was it.

“But we need you to drive us,” Max says to Steve.

“Drive to Rick’s?” you guess. “Why?”

Steve looks different than you’ve ever seen him. He’s agitated. Not the kind of agitated you’re used to: frustrated with Keith’s many demands or annoyed with his role as resident carpool king. No, he seems…scared.

“Rick and Dustin have a mutual friend,” Steve says coolly, attempting to assuage your curiosity (and failing). “We just need to check up on him, that’s all.”

“And it’s a time-sensitive matter,” Dustin says. “So we need to go now.”

He starts dragging Steve and Robin toward the front doors, Max on their heels.

“Can’t it wait?” you say. “I can’t run the store myself!”

“Sorry!” Robin says with an apologetic grin. “We’ll make it up to you! I’ll cover any shift, promise!”

Steve wrenches free from Dustin’s grasp. He returns to the counter, and you think he’s going to say he won’t leave you alone.

Instead, he reaches under the counter to grab his jacket and car keys.

“I’m so sorry to ditch,” he says quietly. “Seriously, I know this is a dick move.”

“Mm-hm,” you say, eyes narrowed.

“But it’s important. Dustin’s friend might be in danger.”

“What kind of danger?”

“I can’t tell you.”

You scowl.

“Please don’t be pissed,” Steve begs. “It’s a slow day, and Keith will be around later. You’ve got this!”

You’re mad. But you’re also a bit worried. Steve’s very responsible and wouldn’t leave unless it was important. And he still looks so scared…

“Steve…what’s really going on?” You step closer and lower your voice. “Is everything okay with you? I mean, I know you’re worried about Dustin’s friend, but—“

“I’m fine,” Steve says. He kisses your temple. “I’ll call you tonight. Okay?”

You nod and force a smile, watching him race out of the store and unlock his car for his friends. They pile into the BMW and zip away.

Someone clears their throat. You snap your head to the right, where a punk kid with spiky hair stands by the cassettes.

“Do you have the newest Madonna tape?” he asks, shocking you with his music taste, considering his whole vibe.

“Uh, yeah,” you say, thankful for the distraction. “I’ll help you find it.”

***

Steve doesn’t call you that night. Or the next morning.

And when you arrive for your next shift, you’re greeted by Keith at the counter, not Steve or Robin.

“Where’s Steve?” you ask.

“Your loverboy called in sick,” Keith says, before taking a huge bite of a breakfast burrito. You wince as he continues talking with his mouth full: “Buckley is sick too, so it’s just you and me today.”

“Great,” you say flatly. Both Steve and Robin being sick the same day isn’t inherently suspicious—they are best friends and hang out all the time. But after what transpired yesterday, their absence is fishy.

That, plus the fact that Steve had the time to call Keith and not you, sours your mood.

“And since they’re out, I’ll need you to work a double.”

“Fantastic,” you snap. “That's exactly how I wanted to spend my Sunday.”

“Hey!” Keith says. “No sass. Family Video employees must remain upbeat and positive at all times. We want our establishment to be a welcoming place. Not a dark hole of pessimism…like Blockbuster.”

You plaster on a big, fake grin.

“Much better,” Keith says smugly, before disappearing to the back room to file some paperwork.

The day drags on. There isn’t much traffic to the store, due to the announcement that not one but two Hawkins High students were killed. People seem too scared to go anywhere or do much of anything.

On your lunch break, you call the Harrington house. No answer. Either Steve is too sick to reach for the phone on his nightstand, which frightens you, or he’s off with his friends.

You wonder if Dustin’s friend, the one they went to find, is one of the victims. The thought makes your stomach twist. Maybe that’s why you hadn’t heard from Steve or why he wasn’t home—he needed to comfort the younger boy through his grief.

When it’s finally closing time, you decide to drive by the Harrington house to check in. No BMW in the driveway confirms that he’s definitely not home sick.

You feel a bit sick yourself wondering where he is and what’s going on.

***

The next day is your day off. You call Steve first thing when you wake up. You also drive by his house again after breakfast. It’s like he disappeared off the face of the earth…

…until you take a shortcut down Maple Street and see his BMW parked at the Wheeler’s house.

You haven’t heard from him in two days, and his car is at his ex-girlfriend Nancy’s house. You feel numb.

Steve didn’t seem like the type of person to stoop to infidelity, but you haven’t known him for that long. And he (and his friends) are definitely keeping something from you. Maybe all that “Rick Lipton” stuff was a cover-up so Steve could hang out with his friends and cozy up with his ex.

You hate how jealous you feel. You hate how it makes you want to cry, scream, and throw a brick through the BMW’s windshield.

Against your better judgment, you park by the curb and stomp toward the front door. You aren’t usually a confrontational person, but you feel a spark of anger that won’t be tamped down unless you get some answers.

You ring the doorbell and knock, for good measure. A tired-looking, middle-aged man opens the door.

“Can I help you?” Mr. Wheeler drawls.

“Is Steve here?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“The troublemakers are in the basement,” he says. He sarcastically adds, “We already have enough guests to legally be considered a hotel. What’s one more?”

Mr. Wheeler opens the door a bit wider and allows you in, pointing you in the direction of the basement door. You thank him before charging down the steps.

Dustin and Max are down there, along with their other friend Lucas. Max scribbles furiously at the desk while the boys sit on the sofa, heads bent low while they discuss something with hushed voices.

“Where’s Steve?” you demand, scanning the room as if you expect him to pop out from behind a corner.

“Whoa!” Lucas says. “How’d you get in here Y/N?”

“Mr. Wheeler let me in. He’s a real peach. So. Steve?”

“He’s upstairs in Nancy’s room,” Dustin says.

Your eyes widen.

“Not like that!” Dustin says quickly, sensing the miscommunication. “They’re just talking!”

“Talking alone in her room?”

“To be fair,” Lucas says, “Robin’s there too, so it’s not like it’s romantic.”

“And it wouldn’t be!” Dustin says. “Steve only has eyes for you. He told me so.”

“You, and Phoebe Cates,” Lucas corrects.

“Right. You, Phoebe Cates, and maybe Cindy Crawford.”

“Definitely Cindy Crawford,” Lucas says. “Have you seen her?”

Max turns in her seat and glares at Lucas. He gulps.

“I mean, Cindy’s not my type. But Steve loves her.”

Your turn to glare.

“Not as much as he loves you!” Lucas says. He turns to Dustin. “We’re making things worse, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” you say. “I’m gonna go talk to him.”

“You can’t,” Dustin says. “They’re a bit preoccupied. And I know that sounds suspicious, but I promise. Steve isn’t cheating on you.”

“Then what is he doing?” you say. “And why hasn’t he called me?”

“All good questions,” Dustin says. “But I can’t answer them.” He gestures to an armchair nearby. “You can wait for Steve if you want. I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

You consider it, but this whole situation is weirding you out. What are Steve, Robin, and Nancy so preoccupied with anyway? Does it have to do with the murders? And why won’t anyone just tell you what’s going on?!

“I have to go,” you say, voice clipped. “Just tell him to call me.”

You storm up the stairs and out of the house. A sense of dread overwhelms you—dread that threatens to swallow you whole.

***

At around 11 o’clock that night, someone knocks at your apartment door.

In a half-asleep stupor, you stumble to it, gripping your baseball bat. No one should be visiting this late, unless—

“Y/N? It’s Steve! Can we talk?”

You huff and put the bat down, opening the door for your (sheepish-looking) boyfriend.

Your facial expression remains stony as you study him.

“Hey,” he says. He clears his throat. “Can I come in?”

In lieu of a response, you turn on your heel and stomp to your couch. Steve locks the door behind him and follows.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, sitting next to you. He reaches to put an arm around you, and you pull away. He deflates. “Babe—”

“Is this the part where you say you can’t tell me what’s going on?” you snap. “And you promise to call me tomorrow, but then you don’t, and the only reason I’ll know you aren’t dead is because I’ll see your car at your fucking ex-girlfriend’s house?”

Steve closes his eyes and sighs.

“I deserve that. But it’s not what you think. Whatever you think is going on, I promise, it’s not that.”

“So, what is going on?” you say.

He turns away and rubs his face.

“I—”

“You’re sorry,” you deadpan. “Why don’t you throw in one more? Best things come in threes, you know.”

You’re being unfair. You know this. Steve’s obviously very upset about something, and you’re being too harsh. But the way he’s acting, and the way he’s not giving you a real answer why, is driving you insane.

He hesitates and reaches for your hand. You allow him to take it.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. His eyes are wide and mournful and desperate. “But I just can’t talk about it. Not right now. I’ll make it up to you. Anything you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

You take a deep breath and feel your anger evaporate at his sincereness.

“You could start by kissing me?” you say.

Steve’s face splits into a grin and he leans in, kissing you softly.

Well, it starts soft. The heat picks up a bit too fast for your liking, and you push him away.

“Whoa buddy,” you say. “I’m so not in the mood for make-up sex right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, blushing. “I didn’t mean to push.”

“I actually need to get some sleep,” you say. “Care to join me?”

“I really should be getting back,” Steve says, glancing at his watch. “Max is going through a really hard time right now. She needs as much support as she can get.”

You want to know more details, so you try not to be too specific and ask, “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

Steve nods.

“She’s strong,” he says. “She’ll be fine. She has to be.”

He kisses you goodnight and leaves.

This time, he doesn’t promise to call. You aren’t sure if that makes you feel better or worse.

***

The next night, Steve shows up again much too late, looking as if he’s seen a ghost.

He’s wearing the same navy polo and jeans from yesterday. You don’t know how you feel about that, as the reminder that Max and the group are staying at Nancy Wheeler’s house rattles around in your head.

“How’s Max?” you ask, pouring Steve a cup of tea.

“She’s a bit better,” he says. He rubs his eyes. “It’s sort of…touch and go.”

You sit across from him at the table with your own mug and ask, “I hope I’m not being insanely nosy, but is she…sick?”

“Not really sick, exactly. At least, not physically.” Steve hesitates before adding, “She’s grieving. She lost her brother Billy at Starcourt. She hasn’t been the same since then.”

The Starcourt Fire of 1985. It was a big stain on Hawkins history, along with the myriad of disappearances, deaths, and government conspiracies that marred the town’s legacy.

You aren’t sure how to respond. You settle for drinking your tea in a slightly uncomfortable silence.

“You know,” you say after a beat, “I have a bunch of old board games and movies. I could bring them over to the Wheeler’s place tomorrow if Max wants to check them out. It might lift her spirits.”

“No,” Steve says quickly. Off your hurt look, he says, “No, sorry. I mean, we won’t be at the Wheeler’s tomorrow. We’re going for a drive.”

“A drive?”

“Yeah, a drive in the…in the countryside. So Max can clear her head.”

He’s lying to you. He’s lying to you and he’s bad at it and it makes you sad and mad all at once.

“Please, for the love of god, cut the bullshit,” you say. You slam your tea down harder than intended and it sloshes across the tabletop. “What are you guys actually doing?”

Frustration flashes across his features.

“I told you, I really can’t tell you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Don’t say that! It’s not!” Steve says, voice raising. He stands from the table. “I can’t tell you! Why can’t you just accept that?”

You stand as well, crossing your arms.

“You’ve got to at least get your story straight if you’re going to lie, deceive, and leave me out!” you yell. “What is this really about? Because first it was all about Dustin’s friend, and now it’s Max. Or does it have something to do with the murders?”

Steve goes ghostly pale at the mention of the recent killings.

“I won’t tell you,” Steve says firmly, a fraction more calm than he was moments before. “It’s too dangerous.”

“So it does have to do with the—”

“I have to go,” Steve says, storming toward the front door.

“Steve Harrington, you get back here!” you call, following him.

Too late. He’s out the door, slamming it behind him.

As soon as he’s gone, your resolve just crumbles. You cry. You cry, because your sweet, sensitive boyfriend is acting like a different person. You cry because he’s obviously hurting and in some kind of trouble but won’t talk about it, making it impossible to help him. You cry because you don’t want to lose him, because you’ve only been dating for a short time but you might love him. Because you aren’t sure how much longer you can do this.

***

You’re back at the Family Video the next day, working alongside Keith and Randy, a former employee home from college on spring break. Randy’s a pretentious film student who won’t shut up about movies you’ve never seen. It makes you wish you were working with Steve today, despite last night’s argument. You aren’t even sure if Steve wants to be your boyfriend anymore, and that thought tortures you all day.

“The Godfather is a perfect film,” Randy drones as the two of you log returns in the computer. “Have you seen it?”

“No, I prefer comedies.”

Randy scoffs.

“Oh, that drivel?”

“Comedy is not drivel!” you protest. “People need to laugh sometimes.”

You spend the rest of your shift defending your favorite movies, and you seriously consider whacking Randy upside the head when he insults The Muppets Take Manhattan.

Again, you drive past Steve’s house, and are surprised to see his car parked in its usual spot.

“Steve?” you call, banging on the door. “It’s Y/N. Are you home? Can we talk?”

You continue knocking and shouting for him to answer, to no avail. Eventually, his next-door neighbor yells for you to shut it, so you leave.

At 2:30 in the morning, your phone rings. You mumble a “Hello?” into the receiver, wondering if you’re dreaming.

“Hey, Y/N.”

It’s Steve. You figured as much. Who else would call so late?

“Hey,” you say, feeling more awake than you did before.

Part of you wonders if this is evidence of some kind of shift in your relationship. Maybe Steve doesn’t want to actually date you anymore. Maybe he just wants to sleep with you, and that’s why he’s only been visiting and calling late at night, and not talking about what’s going on. You don’t like that thought.

“I’m so glad to hear your voice,” Steve says with a deep sigh.

He sounds weary, and almost hoarse. This panics you. Under normal circumstances, you’d think he was just sick. But now, you aren’t sure what to think.

“Steve, where are you?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does! Are you okay? You sound weak.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I don’t mean it as an insult! Seriously. Do you need me to come get you? Or call an ambulance, or something?”

“I’m fine, Y/N. Just tired. Tired, and missing you.”

“Well, then, why don’t you come over?” you say. You tamp down your worry and try a different tactic: “Maybe we can finally give that make-up sex a try.”

You hear a chorus of “Ew, gross!” and “Gag me with a spoon.”

“Sorry, I should’ve told you,” Steve mumbles, “I’m not alone.”

“Yeah, I got that now. Is Max doing okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. We're at her place now. I just wanted to…no, I needed to call you and say sorry. These past few days, I’ve been really shitty to you.”

“You kind of have been,” you say. “But I haven’t been very supportive. I’m sorry too. Whatever’s going on, I hope it, um…gets better.”

“Thanks,” Steve says. “Oh, and about the make-up sex—can we get a rain check?”

“I’ll see if I can pencil you in my busy social schedule,” you tease. “Call me tomorrow night?”

“I will,” Steve says. His voice wavers and he adds, “I promise.”

***

The next night, he does call. Still wearing his gear from the Vecna battle, he calls your house from the hospital payphone minutes after Max is wheeled into surgery.

“Pick up, pick up!” he grumbles. “Why aren’t they answering?!”

“Have you tried calling Family Video?” Robin says. “It’s inventory night. Keith always makes us stay late for inventory.”

“Oh, fuck,” Steve says. He looks at Robin with panicked eyes. “We were supposed to be there for inventory. Did you remember to call out for us?”

“I thought you did!”

“Here’s some more quarters,” Nancy says, appearing from around the corner with a handful of coins. “After you call Y/N, I need to call Max’s mom and the Sinclairs. Robin, have you called your family yet?”

Steve dials the Family Video number and waits with bated breath. He groans when the call doesn’t connect. He needs to hear your voice, to know you’re okay after the earthquake.

Unfortunately, you are far from okay.

You’re at the store doing inventory with Randy, listening to more of his dry takes, when the earthquake hits.

Randy immediately begins to panic.

“There’s no tub!” he screams over the sound of the rattling earth.

“Huh?!” you yell back, holding onto the counter for dear life.

“In an earthquake, you’re supposed to hide in a tub!” He scans the room and gasps. “Or a doorframe!”

He darts toward the doorframe that leads to the back room.

“Randy, stop running!” you scream. “You’ll hurt yourself!”

You notice a tall shelf of tapes tip forward and you surge ahead, pushing Randy out of the way as the shelf hits the ground. In the scuffle, one of your legs gets pinned underneath it.

A bloodcurdling scream echoes through the store. It takes you a minute to realize the sound is coming from you and not from some banshee.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Randy yells. “Y/N, are you okay?”

The earthquake slows, the violent shaking making way for a quiet rumble. He runs back to you and tries to lift the shelf off of you, with no luck.

“It’s too heavy,” he says, face pinched with fear and a bit of guilt. “Can you move your leg at all?”

You wince and shake your head, tears running down your face.

“I can’t move it,” you say. You sniffle. “It hurts really really bad.”

“I’ll call for help!” Randy says. He grabs the phone off the counter and curses. He tries the second phone, and then races to Keith’s office to try the third. “No signal. I guess the quake took out the telephone lines. I’ll go get someone!”

“Don’t leave me!” you cry out. “Please!”

“I’ll be right back,” Randy says. “I promise! And I’ll reevaluate my stance on comedies, just for you.”

“I appreciate that,” you say through sobs.

Randy rushes out into the night, and you hear him shouting, “Hey, hey! We need an ambulance!”

As you lay alone in the video store in unimaginable pain, you worry. You worry about Steve and his friends, hoping they fared better than you in the natural disaster. You worry about your leg, wondering if you’ll ever be able to use it the same again. You worry that you wasted your time being upset with Steve, and—in a particularly dark moment—you worry that you may never see him again.

After what feels like an eternity, Randy returns with a group of paramedics.

“Hey there,” one of them says. “Are you Y/N?”

“The one and only,” you say through gritted teeth. “I can’t feel my leg anymore. Are you going to have to amputate it? Please say no.”

“Amputations are rare,” another paramedic reassures you. You breathe a sigh of relief. “Let’s get this thing off you and get you to the hospital, yeah?”

***

The rest of the night is a blur for you. The paramedics free your leg and pump you full of so many painkillers, it’s hard to focus on much of anything.

You don’t feel fully like yourself again until the next morning, when you wake up in a hospital bed with a bright blue cast on your leg.

A soft snore to your left indicates company. You are so relieved to see it’s—

“Steve!” you shout, startling him awake. “What happened to your neck?!”

“Y/N, oh my god,” Steve says, jumping from the armchair he was uncomfortably squished into. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

“Did someone choke you?” you say, sitting up against your pillows. “Who do I need to fight?”

“You aren’t fighting anyone until that’s gone,” Steve says, pointing to your cast. He gingerly sits on the edge of the bed, careful of your leg. “Geez, I was so worried about you. I called and called, both the store and your house, and then I saw some paramedics bring you in on a stretcher, and I just panicked. I was so afraid I was going to lose you.”

You reach over and hold both of his hands with yours. He smiles at you, but his eyes are sad.

“I’m here,” you say. You wince. “My leg hurts like hell, and I’ll probably never walk, run, or swim as fast as I used to, but I’m here.”

“I’m so glad you are,” he says quietly. He sucks in a breath. “Max got really badly hurt in…in the quake. She’s unconscious and they don’t know when…if…she’ll wake up.”

“Oh, Steve, I’m so sorry.”

You pull him into a hug, and he holds you tightly.

You know you should keep your mouth shut and just be in this moment with him, but a nagging thought in your mind won’t leave you alone.

“Steve,” you say quietly, pulling away. “I don’t usually believe in ultimatums, because things aren’t usually so black-and-white. But I’m about to give you one. Please don’t hate me.”

Worry flashes in his eyes. He shakes his head.

“I could never hate you,” he says, voice cracking.

You squeeze his hands and say: “If you can’t be honest with me about what’s going on, I think we have to break up.”

Steve’s eyes widen.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, before he can say anything. “I know that’s so unfair. But what’s a relationship without honesty and communication, and we just…don’t have that at the moment. I have the sneaking suspicion that this earthquake and the killings are connected, and I think you know more than you’re letting on. The earthquake did this—” You gesture to your leg. “And I feel like I have a right to know the truth. To know what’s hurting you. Please, Steve. Just tell me.”

You watch his facial expression. Unreadable emotions flick across his features, and you can tell he’s brainstorming. Thinking hard, trying to determine the right thing to say next.

“Y/N,” he says, voice low. “It’s dangerous. Really dangerous. I don’t want to involve you if I can help it.”

“Steve—”

“I don’t want you to get hurt—”

“I already got hurt!”

“I won’t put you in any more danger,” Steve says. He looks about two seconds from sobbing, but he says, “Ignorance is bliss, right?”

It guts you to do so, but you gingerly drop his hands.

“Okay.”

“Y/N, can we just—”

“I think you should leave.” You can’t even look at him as you say it, instead staring at some wilting daisies on the windowsill.

Steve opens his mouth as if he’s going to protest, but closes it and nods.

“If that’s what you really want, I’ll go,” he whispers.

You nod, despite the part of you deep down screaming for him to stay.

He hesitates before walking out.

***

A day and a half later, you’ve been discharged from the hospital. From your perch on your couch, you watch ash swirling outside your window. The sight is terrifying, and the news is full of weathermen trying to make sense of the strange weather pattern.

Knock, knock, knock, knock!

You hobble to your feet, clumsy as a baby deer due to your crutches, and open the door.

“Steve!” you say, a bit shocked (yet relieved). He’s got flakes of ash on his head and shoulders, looking like a dusting of snow. “Hey, I was going to call you. I think I made a big mistake—”

“I want to tell you everything,” he blurts out.

You stumble a bit and he grabs your shoulders to steady you.

“Really?” you say. “Because I thought about it, and you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Steve says. “You’re right. I need to be fully honest. And, frankly, I can’t do this without you.”

So you let him in, and you sit on the couch with your injured leg propped on pillows while he tells you everything. About Will Byers going missing, and how he wasn’t just lost in the woods like everyone thought. About how he came back from another dimension but he brought something dark and twisted with him, an evil sort of presence. How that evil presence latched onto Max’s brother Billy last summer and used him as a general of sorts, collecting more soldiers to create a terrifying monster. How the mastermind behind the plan, Vecna/Henry Creel/One, is the real murderer.

“Everyone thinks it was Eddie,” Steve says, looking down at his feet. “But Eddie sacrificed himself so the bats wouldn’t swarm our version of Hawkins. If he hadn’t done that, the casualties would’ve been a lot worse.”

“And Vecna tried to kill Max too?” you say. The first thing you’ve said since he started his tale.

“He did kill Max. But she came back, somehow. It’s a miracle.”

You aren’t sure what to say. Monsters and alternate dimensions and evil doctors. It’s all the stuff of science fiction…right?

Steve huffs out a laugh at the twisted frown on your face.

“You don’t believe me,” he says.

“No! I do. I’m just…processing.”

“It’s all true,” Steve says. “Every word. And as much as it sucks, I have to help my friends stop Vecna and destroy the Upside Down once and for all. Once we do that, maybe things can get back to normal.”

“Sounds like a plan. When do we start?”

Steve’s brows pull together.

“Uh, did you just say ‘we’?”

“I did. I want to help.”

“No way!” Steve scoffs. “I told you because I didn’t want to keep it from you anymore. Not because I want you to get involved in this fight.”

“Steve—”

“Y/N! Seriously!” Steve says. He laces your hands together. “You’re, like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m not going to let the person I love throw themselves into this mess. I need you to be safe.”

He looks up and is a bit surprised to see goofy grin on your face.

“You said you love me,” you whisper.

Steve blushes.

“Oh, right. I hope that’s okay?”

“You hope it’s okay that you love me?”

“Uh, yeah. And I hope you’ll take me back, but if you feel like you can’t after everything I told you I understand and—”

You grab him by the collar and pull him in for a kiss. He melts into it, wrapping his arms around you.

“I love you too,” you say, once you finally pull away. “And I am taking you back, and I’ll respect your wishes not to get involved in your monster hunting mission, but you have to promise me that you won’t get killed or something, because that would massively suck.”

“You got it,” he says. He checks his watch.

“You heading out?” you ask, a bit disappointed.

Steve shakes his head.

“Nope. I have three hours until I’m meeting the others to discuss our next move.”

“Three hours,” you say, eyes sparkling a bit hungrily. “Huh. There’s so much we could do to fill that time…one activity I can’t get out of my head rhymes with ‘take-up schmex.’”

“Y/N. Your leg is broken.”

“The medical term is actually ‘smushed,’ so I’m cleared for sexual activity.”

“Is that so?” Steve says. “Well, if your doctor says it’s okay…”

In one fluid motion, he scoops you up in his arms. You squeal in surprise as he carries you to your bedroom.

Hawkins had changed overnight. Everything Steve told you makes it seem like a much scarier, darker place.

But you have Steve, and he has you, and you know that no matter what happens next, nothing is going to change that.

***

tagging some people who asked about it and/or expressed interest in this fic! Y'ALL ROCK @crappymixtape @starry-eyed-steve @mrskeery-mclaughlin @sailor-steve

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x gn! reader #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #stranger things 4 #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #st fic: r&j

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wannabelife · 10 months

Text

telepathy – myg

paring: yoongi x afab reader

genre: smut

warnings: phone sex, fingering, handjob, descriptive, multiple orgasms, dirty talk

a/n: i missed yoongi on stage so muuuch!! like wdym tour ended?? :((( did u all watch the final?? also, i cant believe he's already leaving :((((( here's a lil something to help us cope :)

and there you are again, screen in front of you while agust d performs live but far away from you. you dont really know why you summit yourself to this. you could just ignore it and go to bed, but you can't.

since tour, yoongi and you can not always call each other, because of schedule, work but especially timezones. being away for quite some time just makes you a bit more needy than usual. also, the way he's sweating on stage, hip thrusting to nothing, growling, and working his hands on the guitar doesn't help at all.

you decide to shut the computer screen since this lack of attention is getting you frustrated. there's nothing more you can do.

a hour fly by of you trying to sleep, but your mind just can't seem to leave you alone today. you turn around on the bed to light the lamp on your nightstand as you grab your phone, checking the time, it is already past midnight. you know yoongi's concert had already finished around this time. you stare at your phone contemplating if you should call him or not.

maybe you should, whats the real bad in that? at least, you could try. you disk the numbers and wait for an answer on speaker.

"hello" yoongi's voice echoes in the room, sounding lower and raspier than usual because of all the singing and shouting on stage. you cant put a finger on it but at the moment it hits your ears, you feel your stomach tingles.

"hi, its me" you reply hating that you sound weak.

"i know its you" he let out a giggle and you can sense he's smiling "how are you?"

"im fine, what about you? was the show tiring today? you looked excited"

"i dont really feel it since im just happy to be on stage" you nod at his words even tho he cant really see you. after a small time of silence, he adds "were you watching?"

"what? your show? of course i was"

"what do you think?"

"what do you mean what i think?" you laugh a little because why would it matter "i like it... i like it a lot... its quite frustrating tho, just watching, not able to act— hm, act on... i mean, its nice, i like it a lot"

you can hear him laughing out loud on the other side while you just want to hang up on him and ignore everything. why would you ramble and stutter like that? there's no real reason for it.

"act on what? you didnt finish"

"i cant really come up what i was going to say"

"i know you are lying, yn. just go ahead and say it what you were thinking. act on what?"

"act on... my thoughts"

"and what is it that you imagine?"

"why does it matter anyways? they are just thoughts"

"why cant you just say you miss me? aren't you enough needy to ask for me?" you blush at his straightforwardness, not so unusual but always surprising.

"i am. i am needy for you, yoongi. i miss you so much. i want you but cant have you right now, and its so fucking frustrating" you groan more to yourself but that affects him too.

"tell me what is it that you miss so much, maybe i can help"

"your touch, yoongi. your perfect mouth on me"

he inhales after hearing you, his cock threatening to get hard at just the thought of it. the thought of you. he misses your touch too, the way you suck him like no one else does, the way you know all his right spots. the pretty sounds you make when he's on you and the way you two can go from raw and needy to passionate and slow. he misses having multiple rounds with you.

"does my slut miss it that much?"

you whine at the possessiveness in his voice, its true, you're his little slut after all.

"come on, bring the toy i bought you to your side. let me help my baby cum"

you hate how excited you feel at his words, jumping out of bed in one montion to do what he asked you, taking all of your clothes off in your way back, staying spreed naked for him even tho he cant see you.

"im already naked for you"

"how needy" he smirks to himself "send me a picture just to make sure you're right for me"

you open the camera on your chat room with him, making sure to open your pussy with your two middle fingers so he can see it perfectly. as you send it, you can hear the notification ring on the other side.

"you look so beautiful. lay down for me" he hears the bed sheets making a sound as you get comfortable and when it dies down, he assumes you're just right to get it started "i need you to suck your fingers for me, understood? when you are done bring them to your beautiful nipples"

you do as he says and after you suck them wet with your saliva, you use it to carass your nipples. your eyes closing at the feeling.

"babe, tell me how many fingers have you sucked?"

"four" as you deliver your answer, he lets out a low moan at the thought of it, he always knew your mouth can take a lot "what you want me to do?"

"keep massaging your pretty titties" you keep going but this is not enough right now, like he heard your thoughts, he speaks again "now pinch your nipples for me" you moan at the amazing feeling hitting you "i miss biting your pretty nipples and getting those moans myself" you cant help your legs closing for some kind of friction, your core begging for attention.

"i need more, yoongi-ah" you whine.

"alright alright, you can touch yourself now, but you cant touch your clit"

you whimper, a bit desperate trying to reach the pleasure he's keeping away from you.

"what's that? are you complaining?"

"no" as you obey him, you bring your finger to your core, teasing your entrance.

"tell me, how wet are you?"

"not much" you slide your finger up and down your bare pussy, not reaching your clit as he asked.

"gotta prepare that tight cunt, right?" you are just able to babble a small hmm as an answer as you start to feel the tension building between your legs "you can get on your clit now since you're doing so good for me, such a good girl"

as you slide again on your folds, you finally get where you need the most. you start drawing circles on your clit in a small motion at first. the wet noises getting louder each stroke as you pick up your pace. feeling like he deserves more too, you get the speakers close to your core so it can capture the wet sounds as you masturbate "can your heart it, yoongi? it's for you, all because of you"

"you're doing so great, my pussy slut, getting me so hard"

you keep moaning, your pussy clenching and as if he was there with you, feeling you himself, he speaks up "can you enter a finger for me?"

"yes– yes, oh my god... thank you, thank you" you enter with your middle finger, going in and out slowly to ajust. as you're fingering yourself, you get your thumb on your clit again doubling the feeling. you add another finger whimpering at the sensation inside you.

you're able to hear yoongi's bealt getting undone "baby, you are doing so good, keep going for me" you hear muffled sounds of movements on the other side of the line as a spitting sound hit your ears. yoongi spits on his hands, getting it to stroke lazily at his hard cock.

"curl your fingers, baby, make yourself cum"

you curl your two middle fingers inside you "its not enough" you grunt.

"i know, i know. my fingers and cock can reach so much more, make you feel so much better" you whimper, not able to stop the moans because you cant have him right now "just keep going, you're doing great" you fasten your fingers, moaning louder when your other hand start to work faster on your clit.

"who's cunt is it?"

"yours, yoongi. only yours"

"that's right. mine. mine tight beautiful cunt, fits me so perfectly" you can start to hear yoongi working on his cock, the sound getting louder, him leaving low gasps every now and then.

"im close" the built on your stomach getting closer to the edge each minute as your head is thrown back and eyes shutting.

"cum for me, yn" and you do. after his command, you let it go. goosebumps spreading all over your body as you mewl.

"get the toy i asked you" his voice sounds out of breath compare to before. your mind going blank, having a hard time to process his words after your high, but you get the sex toy either way. bringing it to life, the buzzing sound being easy to be heard "good girl" he praises you for obeying so nicely everything he asks.

the screen of your phone lights up, and you can see yoongi is facetiming you. you answer fastly, placing it on the desk in front of your bed, so he has a great view of it and you. he's half naked, his cheeks a bit rosy and his hand on his cock. he grazes his thumb on its head, collecting more precum from it as he sighs in relief.

you spread yourself in front of the screen, finally bringing the toy to your clit. feeling sensitive post orgasm, you whine at the slight pain it brings you that it's not bad at all.

"get another finger inside, i know you can take it" you moan and slowly add the third finger inside you, curling it up, making you see stars "fuck, look at me, yn" he pleads.

you do. he's faster on his length as he brings his other hand to caress his balls. yoongi moans audibly now, watching you without blinking, nipples hard, your fingers working on your cunt, and he can see it clenching around them too.

you fight the urge to close your eyes to keep the eye contact, the overstimulation hitting you as you circle the toy on your clit. your legs threatening to close as the built starts again "that's right, my babe is going to give me another one"

"cum with me, yoongi, please" he hears you, swearing at the view, at your words, at the feeling. your body goes stiff for a second, your legs trembling and a whine coming out in high pitch as you are cumming again. the toy leaving your hand hitting the floor with a sound, just the three fingers fighting to prolong your orgasm.

yoongi cant stop staring at your form, your pretty sounds and your eyes rolling back from the pleasure "fuck, im close" he says and you finally start to relax, all the cum dripping from your core weting the mattress as he cant help it anymore. he's coming undone with a moan.

both of you breathing loudly and fast, as your chests goes up and down, waiting for the comedown.

"you are amazing" he sighs.

#yn #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #suga smut #suga fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts yoongi #min yoongi imagine #yoongi ff #yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios

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loveandleases · 10 months

Note

Hii! Could we have 56. "Are you flirting with me?" for every RO?

Ask and you shall receive~ (It's pretty long.)

დ Cam- You've spent 30 minutes helping Cam clean up his room. He's flopped on the bed, a bed that's littered with rolls of film and lenses. A bag of chips and what was once a candy bar is now a melted mess.

Cam's always been this way. A mess, a very handsome mess. You tilt your head slightly as you look at him, his hair disheveled covering up his eyes. Letting out a groan he raises his shirt to rub his stomach.

Neither of you says anything long enough that he looks at you. "What?" he asks, ignoring the smudge of chocolate that has somehow found its way onto his cheek.

You smile at him before walking over to rub his cheek. His voice catches, his eyes wide as they look over your face. "A…are you flirting with me to get out of cleaning?"

დ G- You hold the dog softly, not wanting to scare it, as G goes to check its leg. G is precise in their movements. The tone they use to talk to the dog is soft, calming.

They catch you staring a few times and only arch a brow at you. Once determined the dog is fine they take it from you, holding it gently in their arms.

No one would believe the sight in front of you if they saw it, a smile on their face as they rub noses with the dog. Hell, you barely do.

"Cute." The word escapes your lips before you can catch yourself.

The speed at which they turn their head looks painful. Their dark eyes bore into you, searching your face as a blush creeps onto their cheeks. "Are you flirting with me? Now of all times?" They turn to press their head against the dog, the tips of their ears bright red.

დ Kara- You two have been at the leasing office all day. You've been helping her file papers for easily an hour now. While you finish up the last bit, Kara comes in with food. "I owe you so my treat." She motions for you to sit down.

You oblige, trying to get as comfortable in the stiff chair. Kara is usually so put together, her hair always in place, her makeup perfect. Yet now there is a slight sheen to her face, her hair a little messy, undone from the ponytail she had it in. You like her better like this.

She catches you staring, saying nothing as she tucks her hair behind her ears. She takes the utensils from their packaging and holds them out to you. When you don't take them, she looks at you, "I must look a mess." You shake your head at her. Kara Clarke is anything but a mess.

She stares at you a moment longer, placing the utensil down. You notice a blush on her cheeks. "Stop kidding, or are you flirting with me?"

დ M- They said one more paragraph over half an hour ago. Yet still there they are, slouching at the computer. You've noticed they have been staring at the screen for at least 20 minutes. Walking over, you wrap your arms around their neck.

"I'm sorry MC. It just isn't reading right." They rub their eyes, turning to you. Pulling you against them so they can rest their head against your stomach.

They stay that way for a few more minutes before they look up at you with tired eyes. A warm smile on their face.

"You should go to bed, you're going to exhaust yourself at this point and I'll be left stuck taking care of you." You can't help to tease them a little. That little smile pulled at their lips.

"If you wanted to get me to bed, you just had to say so." They say it so easily. Is there a deeper meaning there? It's hard to tell, but something in their eyes tells you there is.

You scoff, pushing them back in their seat. "Get in bed or else." You try not to smile as you say it. They cock their head at you and run a hand along their chin. "Are you flirting with me?"

დ Isaac- You're unsure how long you've been standing there. Leaning against the steps of the apartment while Isaac tinkers with something under the hood of their car. It was supposed to be a quick drive to the apartment to pick up some things.

Yet here you are, watching them dirty their shirt with even more oil stains. At least the view is nice. It's not too hot, slight breeze in the air.

"Hello, Earth to MC!"

You blink, noticing Isaac looking at you as they take off their shirt, and wiping the sweat from their brow. You know they said something, yet you can't think of a response. Not when you see the sweat glisten against their warm umber skin. You can't help but whistle at that sight.

They laugh, flinging their shirt at you. "Seriously flirting with me right now?" Isaac grabs you by the hand, pulling you to the car. "Get in."

დ Ardent- You squirm slightly, ignoring the tingling sensation of your butt going numb from sitting on the counter for so long. Ardent stands in front of you, arms crossed, brows furrowed.

"I'm not asking again. Where the hell is Cupid?" He glares at you, those brown eyes searching your face as you reposition yourself again.

"I told you we don't have the cat." You avert your eyes, instead focusing on the scars on his arm.

Ardent reaches forward, raising your chin so you have no choice but to look at him. His hair has begun to fall out of the tie he had it pulled in, now grazing against his jaw.

You can't help but notice a strand against his scarred lip. Lip's that are slightly moist. This very thought makes you shake your head. Which only makes him hold your chin tighter. It only annoys you more. Why is it that every time that cat is missing, he thinks Cam took it?

You push against his chest, and your patience has run out. What little he did move was just for show. "Don't be a brat.", he says sweetly. As if your being annoyed is just what he wanted.

"Fuck off." You say it firmly. Or at least try to. It's hard to mean it with that crooked smirk on his lips.

"You really shouldn't be flirting right now. I only want what's mine."

#love and leases #loveandleases #twine wip #if wip #upcoming if #cam #g #kara #isaac #m #ardent #prompt

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the-way-of-words · 5 months

Text

PolyVerse Cam Boy AU//Jolly

Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson x Holly(ofc) with mentions of Noah Sebastian x Holly(ofc), Nicholas Ruffilo x Holly(ofc), and Nicholas Ruffilo x Holly(ofc) x Noah Sebastian

Content warnings: partner sharing, exhibitionism, oral (male and female receiving), mentions of fisting, P in V sex, squirting, light choking, mentions of sex work

Contains sexual situations with fictionalized versions of real people. None of this is real, and we should all know this by now, but if it's still not your thing, hit the back button.

For the lovely @throwingmetothelions who has let me play in her Cam Boy HC sandbox not once, but twice now, since Jolly decided he wanted to have a turn. And thank you to @signs-of-ill-portent for being the best fucking cheerleader and beta ever to grace my life.

tag team: @cncohshit, @jxstthisonce, @kingdomof-omens, @ladyveronikawrites, @deathblacksmoke

if you would like to be added to a taglist, feel free to comment or send me an ask <3

~~~~~

Jolly doesn't exactly know what the whole situation is with Nick, Noah, and Holly. At the very least, he knows she's fucking both of them. Or maybe they're both fucking her. Although, judging by what he heard last night, he's pretty sure they're all fucking each other.

Not that it matters all that much, but it's important he has some kinda story straight in his head when he enters the kitchen almost every morning to the sight of her dressed in someone else's shirt and little to nothing else.

He feels like he's going insane, but who can blame him when he's had to go to sleep almost every night this week, hearing how pretty she sounds when one of them takes her apart? He tries not to listen – he does – but at this point, it almost seems like they're doing it on purpose.

Add to that the fact that he watched every second of that stream they did a couple of months ago, and he's been a very distracted man indeed. It doesn't matter that they cut it off before any actual fucking took place, because he now knows exactly what she looks like writhing with a head between her legs, and it's beautiful. Jolly's dreamt about it; getting on his knees in front of her, throwing a leg over his shoulder while he eats her out, exactly how Nick said she likes it, only to wake either hard as a rock or sticky in a mess of his own making.

It's fine, he tells himself. He just has to stick it out for a few more days until Nick and Holly return to Virginia. He tells himself that he can handle it. It’s just a few more days, a few more sleepless nights, but it doesn't help. Jolly spends all of his next stream barely speaking, as the fantasy of Holly walking in on him takes hold and cums so hard, he's pretty sure he hears his jaw crack.

"So, this is where the magic happens, huh?"

He jumps at the sound of her voice, mouth going dry when he turns away from his computer to eye Holly leaning in the doorway because she's dressed in a shirt she must have taken from Noah’s laundry because it's actually his; he swallows, trying to will away the hardness forming in his sweatpants. The garment swims on her frame, and he hopes to God she’s got something on under it.

"You know," she says conversationally as she kicks away from the door, "I thought about walking in on you while you were doing your stream thing yesterday." His eyes track her as she crosses into the room, cataloging the curves he can’t see, but knows are there. She perches herself on the desk in front of him, staring down at him with interest. "That's your thing, right? You like to be walked in on…watched?"

He thinks it’d almost be funny if her words weren’t actively trying to break his brain.

His fingers drum against his thigh, and he sighs. This is a bad idea, a voice in his head murmurs, and yet he answers anyway. “Uh…yeah.” He snorts. “Yeah, it is.”

Holly nods, humming quietly to herself as her crossed ankles swing softly in the small space that separates them. His mind wanders back to what she said earlier, and he’s curious.

This is a bad idea, the voice says again, but the question tumbles out of his mouth before he can think to stop it. “And what would you have done?”

“Hm?” Her eyebrow quirks, as if she’s confused, but he knows better. Jolly can see the little spark of mischief in her eyes. The one that reminds him so very much of Noah, and he understands now what Nick meant when he said those two were like two peas in a pod.

“What would you have done? If you had walked in?” He shouldn’t encourage this. Not when Nick and Noah are just on the other side of the wall. But he is so desperate to take back control of the situation, and, maybe if he goes far enough, he’ll be able to. Maybe if he tries hard enough, he’ll scare her off and she’ll go running back to them and stop rattling his cage like this. Jolly tilts his head as he stares at her for a beat longer, fingers pyramided in front of his chest.

She doesn’t move when he suddenly rolls his chair closer, smirking as he settles his hands on her knees.

“Would you have opened up these pretty legs for me?” He moves his hands up her thighs until his fingers can slide under the hem of her shorts. “Would you have let me bury my face in this sweet pussy of yours until one of them came looking for you?”

Glee rolls up his spine when Holly’s breath hitches as his fingers crawl higher under her shorts, and he pauses, hands halting until their eyes meet. He raises an eyebrow, wondering if this is all it will take, if now is when she’ll say stop and leave. But she doesn’t. Instead, she meets his gaze head-on, as if daring him to keep going. So he does, his calloused fingers searching until they reach the edge of her underwear. She leans back, spreading her legs wide as he slips beneath the elastic, shock replacing the satisfaction when he finds her folds slick.

“Is that what you would have wanted, Jolly?” she asks, voice low, almost a breathless purr. “Is that what you thought about when you got yourself off last?”

He was, but it’s not as if he’d tell her that. Not when he’s slowly losing this dubious game of sexual chicken they’ve found themselves in. Jolly clears his throat, trying to focus on his goal instead of how warm she feels underneath his hands, how soft, how she smells like soap and hot water and some kind of strawberry lotion that makes his mouth water. But then she shifts her hips, causing his thumb to brush against her clit, and before Jolly can make sense of what he’s doing, he dips it down and into her wet slit.

“Something tells me I’m not the only one that’s thought about it,” he counters. “Tell me, Holly, how many times have you thought about me when one of them has been between your thighs, huh?”

He feels very, very warm all of a sudden, the heat pooling in his gut spreading out to the rest of him, and while he knows he should stop, should take his hands off her and tell her to get out, he can’t. He’s too mesmerized by the feel of her inner walls clutching at his thumb as he slides it in and out of her.

It’s her whimper, a breathless call of his name, that snaps him out of the haze, that finally pulls his hands off of her as he stands abruptly, and maybe if he had any ability to actually think this through, this would be the end of it. But he’s too far gone now. Can’t do anything but take hold of her face with both his hands and plant his mouth on hers.

The kiss is messy and desperate, wet, open mouths and tongues and he can’t figure out which one of them has wanted this more. Is it her, with her hands fisted in his t-shirt, trying to tug him closer? Or is it him, with the way he pulls away from her lips to lap up the taste of her from the sticky trail his thumb left on her cheek? He lets go of her face to suck his thumb into his mouth, and as her sweet musk settles on his tongue, he knows he has to have her.

There are no thoughts of the consequences they may encounter as he shoves his hands into the waistband of Holly’s shorts. He follows them down, planting his knees on the carpet, eyes zeroing in on the small patch of fabric a little darker than the rest.

“Can I?” It’s an out as much as a request, their last chance to stop this before they go too far, and he hopes she takes it. Because he knows once he fully lets himself give in, there will be no going back. But she tangles a hand through his hair instead, nodding to him while she utters a quiet yes. It's all he needs to throw one of her legs over his shoulder and pull her underwear to the side as he licks into her.

She invades his senses, the smell and taste of her all he knows, all he wants, and he wastes no time putting his stolen knowledge to use; rolling his tongue across her clit lightly before he tucks two fingers back into her.

“Oh fuck,” he hears her rasp, fingers tightening in his hair. “Someone’s… someone’s been sneaky--”

Her teasing reproach cuts off with a quiet moan when he crooks his fingers, another following quickly after as a third joins them. He pulls away for a moment, his cock twitching at the sight, and Jolly wonders exactly how many of his fingers she’d let him fit inside her… if she would let him work up to getting his whole fist inside, just to see how she would look stretched around his wrist.

He doesn’t realize he’s voiced his fantasy until he hears a sharp intake of breath. “You’re kinda a kinky fucker, aren’t you?”

His eyes slide up to glance at her face, and fuck, isn’t she a pretty sight? Her face flushed, mouth fallen open in pleasure as she watches him fuck her with his fingers.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t let me?” he asks, twisting his head to take a nip of her thigh, “Wouldn’t let me call your boys in here and let them watch me open you up--”

For a split second, he thinks he hears a creak of the floor just outside his bedroom. But then she uses her grip on his hair to guide him back to her cunt and Jolly forgets all about it as he sneaks his tongue down to lick around his fingers, taking pride in the choked gasp of his name right before he sucks her clit into his mouth.

Holly lights up under his touch, pulling him even closer with shaking thighs as she cums. Her release gathers around his knuckles, and he drinks it up; licking and sucking until she’s pulling him away, tugging at him until he rises from his knees…only to plant her hands on his chest and send him stumbling back onto the bed.

“Take your pants off.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, shuffling his sweatpants down his legs and tossing them to the floor while she pulls a condom from god knows where.

The full weight of the situation, the actual wrongness of what they're doing, doesn't hit him until she kneels between his legs. It only adds fuel to the fire, sparking the heat inside his veins in a way that makes him ache. The floor creaks again; he’s sure of it this time, yet when he turns his head, there’s no one there. But that doesn’t stop his thoughts from running as she takes him into her mouth.

The wet heat makes his eyes roll back, her tongue pulling bitten-off curses from his mouth as she swirls it around his cock head, and he wonders briefly who it is, standing with their ear to the door, hand on the doorknob, ready to walk in…he groans, squeezing his eyes closed. Or maybe it’s both Nick and Noah, taking turns to creep into the doorway and watch their girl with someone else, and he’s struck with the idea that maybe this has been the plan all along.

But then Holly’s pulling off and rolling the condom down his length, straddling his lap, causing all coherent thought to cease as he slips inside her. She takes him in slowly, lips parting in a quiet sigh as she lowers herself at a snail’s pace, thighs flexing beneath his hands when she rises, only to sink lower with every pass until she’s fully seated.

Holly pauses, her eyes fluttering closed as she rocks back and forth minutely. It makes his hips kick up on their own accord because even through the latex he can feel how wet she is, the tight clutch of her cunt pulling him under her spell even further. It’s almost as if he’s adrift, and the weight of her on top of him, the feel of her softness against him is the only thing keeping this from being a dream.

She gasps, a noise caught somewhere between a laugh and a moan, as she steadies herself on his chest, “Easy, tiger. I need a minute.”

“I'll try to behave,” Jolly snickers, deciding to let his hands roam as she continues to grind against him.

He grips her thighs, enjoying the way her flesh gives under his fingers when he thumbs at the flowers inked into her skin just below the crease of her hips. His hands trail under her borrowed shirt to caress the skin of her waist and she shivers, goosebumps forming in their wake as his hands slide up her torso to her ribcage, going further still until his thumbs reach the curve of her breasts. The full flesh fills his palms perfectly, and what he wouldn’t give to have her fully naked, to see all of her as she undulates on top of him. But he still doesn’t quite know where the line is, so he settles for teasing the sensitive buds of her nipples, pinching and rolling them until they stiffen.

He hears the telltale noise of movement outside the door once more just as she begins to rock her hips back and forth, working up to a slow, steady rhythm that has arousal pooling at the base of his spine already; he cuts his gaze to the doorway, where he’s met with Nicholas’s heated stare. But before the panic can fully take root, the other man smirks, nodding in their direction as if telling him to keep going…and that’s when all the pieces start to fall into place.

There's a reason they haven’t come looking for her. This has been a game all along, and that gives him an idea.

“Do you think any of your boys are watching, sweet girl? Hmm?” Jolly asks. His hands slip from her chest to her waist, clutching her tightly as her hips twist devilishly.

She smirks, lowering down to her elbows, her breath hot against his ear when she whispers “What makes you think they haven’t been watching since the beginning?”

He should probably be upset at the idea of being played like this. But instead, all it does is make him want this more, and if they want a show… who’s Jolly to deny them? He holds her steady, thrusting up into her roughly one last time before lifting her off him.

Confusion colors her face. “Jol--”

“Turn around,” he interrupts and she follows his direction immediately, settling on her hands and knees as she faces the door.

He’s quick to fit himself against her, eager to find his way back inside her tight heat. One of his hands slips under his t-shirt, caressing the ridges of her spine on its way to rest between her shoulder blades. It only takes the littlest amount of pressure for Holly to get the hint, and she lowers her chest to the bed, arms stretched out in front of her.

He groans when he pushes inside, the tight clutch of her cunt trying to pull him deeper as she parts for him. He wants to take it slow, savor it, but when he spies Nick outside the door again his hips snap forward sharply, and he buries himself as deep as he can go. It’s almost as if he’s on autopilot, his body chasing the pleasure he knows hers will provide. His hips pull back before rolling forward, setting a satisfying rhythm as he drapes himself over her back.

She was right earlier. He is a kinky fucker, and a kinda nasty one at that, which means he is not above slithering a hand underneath her to cup her throat, using that hold to pull her face up from where it’s buried in his duvet to meet her boyfriend’s gaze.

He can tell the exact moment the two lock eyes: a sharp gasp falls from her mouth as she throws herself back to meet his thrusts as best as she can. The wet, slick sound of her pussy hurtles him closer to the edge, and fuck, he wishes he could see her face as the pair stare at each other, but watching Nick watch her is a good consolation prize and he takes it willingly.

He can see the sheer want in his friend's face, his jaw slack as he stares unabashedly, taking in every bit of what's happening in front of him, his inked hands press against his groin, tongue poking out to wet his lips before he swallows. Nick's hands fall to his sides, clenching into fists, and Jolly's curious.

“What about after this, huh?” he pants into the shell of her ear, tightening his grip on her neck until he can feel the flutter of her pulse, “Are you going to crawl back into bed with your boyfriends and let one of them inside you?”

“Fuck,” Holly curses when he relaxes his hold, “o--only if you don’t make me cum again.”

Jolly smirks when her inner walls start to quiver around him, even if it makes it harder for him to hold on, and he waits until Nick’s attention is on him before he replies.

“Well, I’d hate,” he gasps, “to send you back to them unsatisfied… shit, Holly--c’mon, touch yourself for me.”

He buries his face in her hair, unable to look at Nicholas any longer once she starts to play with herself, but he can still feel the burning weight of his friend's gaze as he chases his own end. It prickles at his insides, driving him closer and closer until Holly seizes up. Delight joins the ecstasy coursing through him when her release bursts forth, wetting the both of them before it drips onto the bed beneath.

Light explodes behind his eyes as he digs his teeth into her shoulder, smothering his groan into the freckled skin as he lets go. His hips stutter and jerk as he gives her all he has, rutting into her until he’s spent. He feels fuzzy, a pleasant hum spreading through his bones when he lets himself slump onto the bed. Holly follows, coming to rest on her side, throwing a leg over his and he’s just about to tug her close and pull her into a kiss when Nick appears at the side of his bed.

Jolly rolls to his back and focuses his eyes on the ceiling as if to give them some sort of privacy, trying to not give in to the awkward feeling settling in his stomach now that it's over.

“I didn't know you could do that.” To his surprise, there’s not a trace of jealousy in Nick’s voice when he breaks the silence, it almost sounds like awe, if Jolly were to put a name to it.

“I, uh, did not know that either.” Holly laughs and pride swells in Jolly’s chest.

“Well, Noah's going to be sad he missed it…He had to take a call from Matt just as you were getting started. Something tour-related, I guess, couldn't wait,” Nick says, preoccupied. Jolly sneaks a glance out of the corner of his eye, watching the man’s hand travel up Holly’s thigh to her center. Her legs part without him having to ask, yet she still makes a surprised noise when his fingers delve into her center, “He got you all messy, didn’t he?”

It makes him feel a certain kind of way, being talked about like he’s not there. “I’m right here, you know.”

Nick snorts. “You gonna participate in the conversation then, or just stare at the ceiling pretending to not be here?”

Holly’s hand is warm when it settles on his cheek, pulling his attention from the light fixtures to the two of them instead. They both smile and Jolly finds himself smiling back.

“So… this isn’t going to be weird then? We’re okay?” he asks.

Holly and Nick trade a glance before the man huffs another laugh. “Wouldn’t have done this if we thought it was going to be weird…” Nick studies his face, “But are you okay with it?”

“Fuck, are you kidding me?” he laughs, “I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before.” He means it, and if things aren’t weird for them, then he can’t say that things are weird for him either… especially if it means this is going to happen again.

The next time he streams and Holly’s in town, he makes sure everyone can see how Noah watches before he walks in on them and Jolly doesn’t think he’s ever made that much money for a single session.

And even though he doesn’t quite understand exactly what the four of them are doing, he’s gonna enjoy it while it lasts.

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